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#I say quick bc this didn’t take five hours
daisynik7 · 2 months
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Make Me Sweat
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Pairing: Aoi Todo x f!reader
Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
Word Count: ~2.5k
cw: written with a curvy reader in mind, canon-divergent (post-Shibuya but a happy one), all characters are 18+, explicit language, smut – cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, spit play, PIV sex (cowgirl position, mating press), breeding kink, praise kink, pet names (sweetie, sweetheart, baby, pretty girl, good girl), creampie 
Summary: With the start of the new year, you make it one of your resolutions to become more active. You begin at your apartment's fitness center, where you run into your muscle head, loud-mouth next-door neighbor, Aoi Todo. He offers his gratuitous advice, annoying you at first. But when he suggests a particular kind of workout, it piques your interest enough that you can't refuse.
Author’s Note: I used metric units (kg) to describe the weights. Also, I am no expert in lifting so please take all of this with a grain of salt LOL. I just know that canonically, these characters are fucking STRONG. I stopped with the tag list on this one bc technically this was a bonus fic and I wasn't sure if anyone wanted to be tagged in these. With that, please enjoy some shameless smut about our favorite JJK himbo! Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.
part 6 of to all the boys who live next door anthology series
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When you said you wanted to start exercising more, you weren’t expecting this: being bounced up and down your next-door neighbor’s impressively huge cock. Yet, here you are, getting pounded with your ass slapping lewdly on his thighs. His big hands dig into the sides of your belly, his lips on the skin of your neck, voice gruff and husky.  “Told you, didn’t I?” 
Let’s rewind to a few hours earlier.
You haven’t been prioritizing yourself lately; your obligations during the day drain all the energy from you and your bed is always so enticing for a nap. When the new year approaches, you make it one of your resolutions to be more active. The gym in your apartment complex is finally open after being renovated the past three months and now, there’s really no excuses when the opportunity is just five floors below you. Your forego your usual nap and suit up in your favorite workout clothes, heading down the elevator to the fitness center. 
Luckily, it isn’t crowded; the only other people inside are Aoi Todo, your neighbor, and his pink-haired buddy, Yuji. They’re both at the weights section, Yuji doing squats with the barbell while Todo spots him, yelling at him encouragingly. “Come on, brother. Hold it, hold it! You got this!”
Yuji grunts, holding the deadlift for as long as possible, eventually dropping it to the floor with a loud thud. Todo claps emphatically, beaming at him. “That’s what I’m talking about!”
You smile to yourself, amused at Todo’s contagious enthusiasm. When he notices you, he gives you a nod, which you return, slightly embarrassed for being caught watching. 
Have you mentioned yet how fucking ripped he is? Today, he wears a loose tank, arm holes cut low to show off his extraordinary physique. Arms bulging with muscles, an incredibly large chest, a well-defined eight-pack. He’s built like a Spartan warrior, ready for battle, destined for victory. It’s impossible to ignore a body like his, even more impossible to ignore his eccentric attitude, which gets on your nerves when you have to listen to his noisy demeanor on the opposite side of the wall. 
The cardio section is on the other side of room, so you make your way to one of the treadmills, setting the level to a walking pace for a quick warm-up. Before you put your headphones in to listen to music, you eavesdrop of their conversation, observing them from your peripheral. 
“Good shit, brother,” Todo says, massaging his shoulders affectionately.
Yuji scratches his head, grinning. “Still got work to do to match my PR. After Shibuya, my strength hasn’t been the same.”
“You’re still the strongest fucker I know. Besides me, of course,” Todo adds, chuckling. “Spot me before you go.” 
They replace the already notable weights with what you suspect are heavier ones. Yuji whistles through his teeth. “300. You’re losing your touch, don’t you think?” he teases, nudging him in the ribs.
Todo digs into a container of powdered chalk, coating his fingers with it. “I’m taking it easy today. Don’t want to over-exert myself in case something exciting happens later.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He grabs on to the barbell, smirking. “I don’t know yet. We’ll see.” Maybe it’s your imagination, but you can almost swear that his eyes meet yours for a split second in the reflection of the mirror. 
You continue to observe as Todo easily deadlifts 300 kg, as if it weighs nothing to him, repeating this ten times without breaking a sweat.
Yuji laughs, helping him rerack. “That’s crazy.”
Todo pats his back. “You’ll get there soon, brother. Once you’re fully recovered, you’ll be lifting more than me, I’ll make sure of that.” His unwavering support is actually endearing. Sure, he can be obnoxious, but this side of him is charming. 
Unfortunately, this sentiment doesn’t last long. Once Yuji leaves, Todo decides to choose the treadmill right beside you, purposefully neglecting the surrounding unoccupied cardio machines. You’re still at a walking pace, eyeing him suspiciously as he stands there, blatantly watching you with a cocky grin. “Did you enjoy the show?”
Avoiding his gaze, staring at the console in front of you, you mutter, “Excuse me, but I’m trying to focus here.”
“Focus on what? Walking?” he scoffs, leaning on the handrail nearest to you. “You’re not going to get far if you keep going at a snail’s pace.”
You roll your eyes, finally looking at him. “So what do you suggest, Oh-Wise-One?”
It’s meant to be sarcastic, but of course, he thinks you’re genuinely asking. “You’ve got to alternate between high intensity and low intensity. Sprint for thirty seconds, then walk for a minute to cool off. Then repeat. Simple as that.”
As much as you appreciate the gratuitous advice, you’re already familiar with high intensity interval training. You’re just nervous to actually do it, not confident in your running abilities. “I’m not a good runner,” you admit. 
“I’m sure that’s not true. Come on, show me what you got.” He crosses his arms over his pecs, waiting. 
Deciding it’s better to relent to him rather than argue, you brace yourself, upping the speed so that you’re doing an easy jog. 
“You can do better than that!” he hollers, reaching for the controls to increase the level, making the track move faster and faster. You’re sprinting full speed now, lasting about thirty seconds before you swat him away, tugging at the emergency shut off cord to stop it. 
You catch your breath, glaring at him, sweat starting to bead on your forehead. "What the fuck, are you trying to kill me?!"
He’s unfazed by your outburst and oblivious to the asshole move he made. “Don’t be so dramatic. You did great. You have really nice form.”
You don’t let his compliments dissuade you from being angry at him. “You can’t just do that without any warning. I’m still getting used to all this.”
“You’re right, I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “I won’t do that again.” He watches you take long sips from your water bottle, scanning your figure up and down. A coy smirk spreads across his face. "You know, if running ain't your thing, there are other workouts we can try that might suit you better."
You continue to drink, gradually regaining your composure. "Like what?"
He leans in close to you, breath hot on your ear. "Sex."
You choke on your water, using your towel to wipe the mess. Ready to give him an earful, he hops off the track, walking towards the exit. "If you want to work up a real sweat, you know where to find me. I promise to make it worth your while.”
And with that, he's gone, leaving you speechless. And intrigued. 
~~~
After dinner, you take a long shower, Todo’s unconventional suggestion replaying continuously in your mind. You’re almost certain it’s a ridiculous joke, though the more you analyze it, the less ridiculous it seems. In fact, by the time you’re drying off in front of the mirror, checking your reflection carefully, you’re seriously considering it. You’re not particularly tired from earlier, so maybe you have room for one more workout. And hey, if the offer still stands, why not take it?
You slide into a different pair of leggings, one that shows off your curves, and slip on a t-shirt, fulling prepared to exercise. In your running shoes, you walk the few steps next door and knock twice. When he doesn’t answer within the first ten seconds, panic sets in and you’re tempted to turn on your heel to retreat. Before you can, the door swings open and you’re greeted by Todo’s bare bust. He smirks, not at all surprised to see you standing in front of him. “Hey.”
Swallowing the thick saliva gathering on your tongue, you let out a meek, “Hello.” His enormous frame towers over you and you can’t help but salivate at the sight of him. You always assumed he’d be the type of guy to walk around shirtless in his apartment. Not that you’re complaining.
He beckons you inside, closing and locking the door shut behind him. “Can’t stop thinking about it, huh?”
You roll your eyes at him, cracking a smile simultaneously. “Well, it’d be rude to turn down such a generous offer, right?”
He lets out a small laugh, stepping towards you, gripping at your hips to pull you into him. “I knew you were a smart girl.”
You’ve severely underestimated how much bigger he is than you until this moment, as you peer up at him eagerly. “Todo.”
He bows his head down, mouth grazing your ear. “Aoi.”
“Aoi,” you repeat, breath hitching. 
“Good girl,” he praises, making you shudder with anticipation. “Tell me exactly what you want and I’ll give it to you.”
You paw at his chest, admiring his sculpted muscles, pressing your fingers into them without even making a dent. “I want you to give me that workout you promised me.”
“Yeah?” he croons, his noticeable erection strained in his sweatpants. “You want this fat fucking cock, don’t you?”
He’s as vulgar as you imagined he’d be and it only spurs you on. You link your arms around his neck, on your tippy-toes to meet him for a kiss. Instead, he hoists you up, holding you with his hands below your ass, your legs wrapped around his waist. His boner throbs as you buck your hips on him, desperate for friction on your aching clit. “You feel it, don’t you?” he purrs, grinding you against him. “That’s all for you.”
He carries you into the bedroom, kissing you sloppily with his massive tongue invading your mouth. When he can’t take it anymore, he tosses you onto the mattress, stripping his clothes off swiftly, you doing the same. He crawls on top of you, ogling your naked body, a lustful gleam in his expression. “You’re so fucking hot.”
“You’re so fucking big,” you blurt out in response, not knowing a better word to describe him. Because everywhere you look, Aoi Todo is big. Big biceps, a tremendous torso, a huge fucking cock ready to fill you the fuck up. You spread your legs open for him, practically begging for him to fuck you. 
“Look at this perfect pussy,” he coos, face inching closer to your cunt. He hocks a thick wad of spit directly onto your clit, smearing it with his tongue. “So wet for me.”
You squirm beneath him, unable to control yourself. “Fuck, Aoi,” you swear, toes already curling from the sensation. 
“I’m going to make you come first. Make this pussy extra creamy for my dick. Is that okay, sweetheart?” He massages circles into your clit with his thumb, looking up at you from between your thighs. 
“Yes,” you whine, trembling with arousal.  
“Good girl,” he says again, and you realize how fucking sexy it is when he praises you like this. “Can I finger you too?” 
“Oh god, yes,” you moan, growing impatient, needy for whatever he’s willing to offer you. 
With his lips latched to your clit, he teases your entrance with his middle finger, slowly sliding deeper until he bottoms out. He adds another digit, pumping inside you while he sucks on your bud, tongue swirling around it. You rock your hips against his face, greedy for more. Todo hums, encouraging you, the vibrations spurring you on until it’s too much. You come for him after a few more strokes, gushing all over his face. You reach down to grab his hair, trying to pry him off you, but he’s obviously way stronger and more resilient. “One more,” he muffles, chin shiny with your slick, his tongue flicking your clit. “For me.” He flashes you a cocky smirk that makes him even more impossible to deny.
You throw your head back into the pillows, staring up at the ceiling, hazy-eyed from the pleasure. The squelch of his fingers in and out of your wet cunt is obscene, combined with the shameless moans pouring out of you. After your second climax, or maybe it’s the third (you’ve lost count), he finally eases off you, slurping his digits clean to swallow up your juices. “You’re doing so good for me, pretty girl.” He strokes his cock in his fist, tapping the glistening head on your swollen clit. “It’s going to feel fucking amazing.”
You hum, the only response you can muster in this fucked-out state. 
“How do you want it, sweetie?” He lifts you off the bed, having you straddle his lap. “You want to ride me?” 
You nod, resting your head on his shoulder, yearning for anything. “Yes.”
“Fuck yeah,” he growls, slapping your ass before guiding his cock into your slippery cunt. You gasp, astonished by the extraordinary girth of him filling you up to the hilt. “You’re swallowing me up.” He spreads your cheeks apart, squeezing your ass in his grip. “That’s my girl.”
You gaze at him, pressing your forehead to his, sticky with sweat. “Fuck me,” you whimper, kissing him fiercely, completely enraptured by him.
He does, bouncing you on his lap, hitting your sweet spot over and over until you’re unraveling for him once more. “Told you, didn’t I? Told you I’d make it worth your while.”
Whatever semblance of rationale you had is gone. All you can think of is Todo’s manhandling you like a fucking rag doll, pliable and yielding to his every touch. Before you reconsider it, you spout the words, “Breed me,” wishing nothing more but to have his hot load leaking out of your cunt.
As if he wasn’t already feral enough, he most certainly is now, planting his feet on the bed to fuck up into you faster and harder. “That’s what you really want? You want my fucking seed in you? Oh fuck. I’ll give it to you, then. I’ll give it to you so fucking good.”
It happens quickly; you’re on your back again, folded nearly in half, knees to your chest, Todo fucking you in a mating press like his goddamn life depends on it. The mattress creaks noisily with each savage thrust he delivers. Sweat drips from his face onto yours as you kiss each other passionately, his massive body surrounding you as he floods your womb with his cum. “Fuck, milk it all out of me baby. That’s it. That’s my girl.”
You stay like this for a moment, allowing yourselves to catch you breaths and cool down. This really was a workout. Todo takes his time, reluctantly pulling out and watching his cum ooze out of you. 
“I can’t believe we did that,” you sigh, hiding your face in the pillow.
He gets comfortable beside you, giving you a smooch on the forehead. “Honestly, I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.”
“Really?” You look at him, cupping his cheek gently, wiping the perspiration off his brow with your thumb. 
He smiles, nuzzling into your palm. “Yeah.”
“Then maybe we should make this a regular thing,” you suggest as you snuggle into his arms. 
“Sounds like a plan to me,” he agrees, embracing you.
And just like that, you have yourself a new and very, very personal trainer. 
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wh0re43van · 4 months
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Frogger Pt 2 (Peter Maximoff X Reader)
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Summary: You return to peters house to finish what you started, but he’s way ahead of you.
Word count: 3k
Warnings: Very smutty, Masturbation, sub!peter (no mommy kink tho bc Idr fuck with that), edging, whiny Peter, pantie stealing
A/n: I can’t get this divider to work right and I’ve also just realized that Frogger came out on Atari in ‘83 not ‘73,,, so just ignore that huge plot hole pls 🙏🏻 Speaking of which, I’d like to take this moment to say: Frogger? I hardly know her!
Okay thats it. Thank you for reading!!
Pt 1
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After picking my little brother up from school, I pull into our driveway.
“Alright come on, Finn. you’re gonna learn how to heat up a TV dinner today,” I say as I open the passenger door for my brother, ushering him quickly towards our front door.
“Why?” he asks, confused as we enter our home.
“Cause I got shit to do. You’ve got five minutes to ask questions then I’m leaving,” I say as I walk into the bathroom right next to our kitchen to check my reflection. “So, you better start now,” I say as I reapply my lipstick.
“What? Does mom know?” he asks, sounding horrified.
“No and she won’t find out because I’ll be home before she gets back from her Tupperware party and you aren’t gonna say anything,” I say as I shake my finger in his face.
“Y/n, I’m only eight. What if someone breaks in?” he squeaks as he follows my quick steps to the freezer. I open the door, pulling out a random frozen meal.
“Then hide,” I say flatly, knowing that our neighborhood is safe. He looks at me, still horrified.
“Ugh,” I groan before grabbing a pen and writing the Maximoff phone number on our calendar that’s hanging on the fridge. “I’m going to Peters. This is their phone number. Call and ask for me if anything happens. I should be back in an hour or two,” I say before grabbing my keys off the counter and walking to the door.  “Lock the doors, don’t answer for anyone unless it’s me, mom, or dad and stay inside the house,” I say as I unlatch the wooden door.
“Wait! You didn’t tell me about the dinner!” he stops me in my tracks.
“You can read right?” I ask, he nods his head. “Directions are on the box,” I lock the door behind me as I all but run towards my vehicle.
As I take the short drive to Peters house, my heart races in anticipation. I hate to admit it, but I managed to get just as worked up as he did- if not, more. My Fleetwood Mac cassette plays loudly in my stereo, but all I can hear is the whimpers that escaped Peter’s mouth earlier. He looked so fucking pathetic writhing underneath me, mewling through shaky breaths; It was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. The image of peter standing half naked, desperate, and confused with his pants so tight around his erection that his button could pop off at any moment makes more core ache. I pull up to the Maximoff house, parking halfway on the curb, but I’m in too much of a hurry to fix it. I sprint up to the door, taking a deep breath to compose myself before knocking. Ms. Maximoff soon opens the door.
“Y/n, back so soon?”  she grins, allowing me to enter.
“Yes ma'am, I have something that I need to finish,” I smile innocently. She nods.
“Peter should be downstairs, I haven’t seen him since you left,” she walks back to the kitchen, leaving me to make my way to Peter’s room. I quietly walk down the stairs, stepping onto the shag carpet. I freeze in my tracks, my breath hitching in my throat and my heart skipping a beat at the sight in front of me.
Peter sitting upright on his couch, completely naked, his head thrown back, resting on the back of the sofa as his hand pumps his rock hard dick. His eyes are squeezed shut as his mouth hangs agape, releasing the hottest whimpers I’ve ever heard. His cheeks and lips are flushed as his nose scrunches in pleasure… then I hear it.
“Fuck, y/n” he mewls, so quiet I could barely hear it, but the sound of him muttering my name as he strokes himself rings through my ears like a trumpet, making my knees weak.
‘Oh, this gonna be wicked!’ I smirk to myself.
“Yes?” I bite my lip, approaching the disheveled boy. Peter’s so stunned that he just jumps up. He doesn’t zoom away. He just stands there with the most horrified expression I’ve ever seen.
“I-I-I didn’t- I wasn’t- y/n,” he sputters, I walk up to him, gently pushing him back down to the couch.
“You weren’t what?” I sit next to him, placing a hand on his chest; He’s hot to the touch. “Rubbing one out while thinking about me?” I ask lowly.
“I well, y-y-you just left me,” he says, staring at me with wide eyes, his dick still standing at attention. “I tried not to, it just wouldn’t go away,” he explains as he pushes his sweaty hair out of his face.
“Hmm,” I tap a finger to my lips in mock consideration. “I think I know how to help you,” I say with a shrug. Peter smiles at me, settling into the couch, closing his eyes, waiting for me to touch him. I get down on my knees in between his legs. “But I need you to show me what you were doing first,” I look up at him, laying my head on his bare thigh. He looks down at me, confused.
“Y-you want me to…” he motions towards his erection.
“Mhm,” I hum, looking at him through my lashes. His cheeks burn bright red, but he slowly moves his hand to his length. I watch intently as he begins to stroke himself. His hand runs over his red, swollen tip and he lets out a quiet whimper. “I wanna hear you, Peter,” I hum.
Even though he’s embarrassed, I can tell that he’s enjoying this. His breath quickens and his dick twitches in his hand as I speak. He picks up speed, obeying my command, letting out a pathetic little moan, as he stares down at me. “I think I know what you’re doing wrong,” the sultry tone drips from my tongue as I sit up on my knees.
“What?” he asks, his voice small as he watches my every move. I take his length into my own hand, dipping my head down, gathering spit in my mouth that I allow to drip from my lips onto his swollen tip. His brown eyes, wide as saucers, watches the saliva trickles onto him.
“Holy fuck,” he whispers as I use my fingers to spread the lubrication around. I hear his breath hitch, then I pull my hand away.
“Now try it,” I smile. I can tell he’s getting sexually frustrated.
“Really?” He whines. “But I want-“ he whines some more before I stop him.
“Do it, Peter,” I say sternly. He gulps, returning his hand to his now slick cock. He moans, throwing his head back.
“Doesn’t that feel better, baby?” I coo. He looks down at me, nodding his head. I slowly shift from my knees to sit on my ass, keeping his desperate eyes locked into mine. I spread my legs, revealing my soaked white panties underneath my skirt. Peter whimpers loudly at the sight, thrusting his hips into his hand.
“C-come on y/n, what are you tryin’ to do to me?” He groans, breathlessly.
“I’m helping you, quickie,” I giggle lightly before I run my hand over my clothed core. Peter shifts on the couch, sitting up to get a better view. His hand picks up speed around his length. I hum at the contact on my core, laying my head back, allowing my hair to fall from my shoulders down my back. I tilt my head to the side, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth when I catch Peters gaze locked onto my dripping panties, not even blinking as he pumps his cock mercilessly. The muscles in his arm tense and his dick twitches, precum oozes out.
“Fuck I think I’m gonna-“ he whimpers breathlessly.
“Stop,” I demand. “Remove your hand, Peter,” I direct him as I continue rubbing circles on my clit through the thin cotton. With a reluctant whimper, he pulls away.
“Mmm,” I slide my panties slowly down my legs, he watches with intensity. I’ve never seen him focus on anything this long before. “Good boy,” I praise, tossing the panties beside him on the couch. He looks at them, then back at me. I giggle, pulling my sweater and my tank top over my head, leaving me in just my bra and skirt. When I return my gaze to the couch, Peters eyes are still locked on me like before, but my panties are gone.
‘That pathetic little perverted kleptomaniac,’ I smile to myself. I don’t mention it-allowing him to keep the drenched panties as a prize for listening so well. Instead, I just bring my fingers down to my now exposed core. His eyes follow my hand like a cat’s follow a laser pointer. I use a finger to dip into my soaking entrance, dragging my slick up to my clit before I begin to rub circles on the sensitive skin.
“Mmm, fuck, Peter,” I relish the pleasure that I bring myself. He let’s out a string of mewls as he thrusts up into the air, desperate for some sort of friction.
“Are- Are you tryin’ to kill me?” He whispers, bringing his gaze from my slick folds up to my eyes. I can’t help but laugh at the desperate state of the poor boy.
“What do you mean?” I play Innocent as I move my fingers back to my entrance.
“I-“ He starts but he’s immediately distracted when I slip my finger inside myself, letting out a pornographic moan.
“Go on Peter,” I smirk. “I’m listening,” I bat my lashes.
“You’re just so-“ he speaks as if his mouth has gone dry.
“Fuck,” I let out another moan, purposely cutting him off again as I slip another finger inside myself and begin to curl up into that special spot.
“Please,” he whimpers, his voice cracks, his legs are shaking, his silver hair is stuck to his face with sweat and his dick is so hard that the tip has taken on a purple hue. Finally, I broke him. “Please, please, please, y/n please I’ll do anything,” he whines, pleading for mercy.
I smile, hoping up then turning around, slowly sliding my skirt down, bending over as I push the thin fabric to my feet.
“Please,” he whimpers again. I turn back around, smiling at the poor boy. “I’m not sure I’m enjoying this as much as you are,” he mewls as I straddle his waist. He winces when his erection slaps against my stomach.
“Oh, don’t lie to me Peter,” I whisper in his ear. I bring my fingers that I was using on myself up to his mouth, he happily opens, sucking them clean as he stares up at me with his big puppy eyes.
Jesus Christ I moan internally.
“You’re doing so good for me,” I bring my face right in front of his, grabbing either side of his cheeks with the same hand. “Don’t act up now,” I say sternly. He responds with an audible gulp. “Tell me Peter. Tell me how much you’re enjoying our time together right now,” I whisper as I ghost the fingers of my free hand over his needy cock. He twitches in my hand.
“I-you-“ he gulps again. His wide eyes looking directly into mine. “Y/n, this is hotter than any porno I’ve ever seen,” he admits whole heartedly, through muffled words as my hand squeezes his cheeks together a bit, earning a genuine laugh out of me.
“Well luckily for you,” I grab his length firmly, beginning to pump him slowly. “You won’t have to rent those stupid films anymore, not with me around,” I smirk before I bring him into a kiss, wrapping one hand in the back of his head. To my surprise, he kisses back intensely. His hands shoot up, grabbing both sides of my face to pull my head closer to his. He kisses me with strong desire.
“You don’t know what you’re doin’ to me,” he groans into the kiss. I lift my hips up, not breaking the passionate kiss, using my hand to line him up with my dripping entrance.
“Of course, I do, Peter,” I whisper before setting down on his desperate cock, taking him all the way into me in one swift motion. He lets out a loud whimper- almost a shriek. “Shhh” I giggle against his lips, stifling my own moan.
“I’m sorry,” he whines. He peers into my eyes with his chest heaving, sweat covering every inch of his toned body while his shaky hands hold their death grip on my hips. I place my hands behind me onto his thighs so I can slowly slide myself up down on his length.
“It’s okay Peter, but you gotta keep it down a bit. Can you do that for me, baby?” I coo. He nods his head as he watches in awe as I fuck myself on him, unable to look away. He fills me up perfectly, his desperate cock sliding in out of my velvet walls earns a few low moans out of me. ”You’re so big, Peter,” I compliment, he smiles at me flashing his dimples. With a surge of confidence, he brings his fingers to his mouth, wetting them before bringing them to my clit, tracing figure eights, watching my face for approval. “Mmm, that feels good, baby. Good job,” I praise him. He moves his fingers faster, and faster, and faster to the point that his hand is just a blur. ”Fuck!” I accidentally shout from the vibrations coursing through my body.
“Shhh,” he smirks. “You gotta keep it down, remember?” he mocks me. I can’t help but laugh, his sudden confidence is a bigger turn on than I thought it would be. He moves his hand from my core- much to my disappointment- before he grabs my hips again.
“May I?” he asks politely, his voice small again as he thrusts into me, wanting to take a bit of control. I lean forward, wrapping my arms around his neck.
“Mhm,” I grant him permission. “Only since you’ve listened so well,” I smirk. As soon as I give him the okay, he’s pounding into me mercilessly.
“Peter!” I shout in surprise and pleasure as he thrusts into me at inhuman rates. The speedster doesn’t seem to hear me as he throws his head back in pleasure.
“Thank you,” he whimpers. “You feel so fucking good, oh my god,” he whines, still somehow sounding submissive even when I’ve given him control. I quickly feel my release nearing as I grip onto his shoulders to keep him from bucking me off. I’ve never been so worked up in my life, my body feels like it’s on fire as I watch the handsome boys hips blur underneath me.
“Peter, I’m close,” I moan, my words come out punctuated as if I’m in a vehicle that’s driving 100mph down a pothole filled gravel road. His head shoots up at my words.
“Please y/n,” he whimpers as I bring my lips to his. “Please I wanna feel you cum while I’m inside you, please,” he whines and begs like a starving puppy, sending me over the edge. Pleasure shoots from my vibrating core throughout my whole body as a string of moans and curses fall from my lips. “Thank you,” I hear him mewl as I chase the euphoria I’m feeling.
‘Did he just thank me, for cumming on him?’ I think to myself. This man knows exactly how to get me worked up, and I don’t even think he realizes it. Suddenly, with a fwp I’ve lost all contact with him as I’m sat beside him on the couch. His eyes hungrily explore my body while he continues to pump himself as whimpers and groans fall from his lips, his dick is visibly twitching.
‘oh’ my confusion subsides once I realized he was about to cum himself. I regain my position on my knees between his legs, watching his face as I take him into my mouth. I consider ruining his orgasm again, but before I can make up my mind, his eyes are scrunched shut and his nose is wrinkled in pleasure as the hottest, most pathetic whimper I’ve ever heard fall from his swollen lips like music to my ears.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he groans as he empties his seed onto my tongue. I swallow the huge load, kitten licking his slit and hollowing out my cheeks a few more times for good measure. He falls onto the couch, lifeless. His chest heaving, the muscles in his legs twitching and his eyes rolled back in his head.
“Peter?” I ask, slightly concerned. “Peter?” I ask again a but louder, slapping his leg as I stand from the ground, sitting next to him.
“I…” he slowly turns his head next to me. I can almost see his heart beating out of his chest. “I think you just changed me as a man,” he pants. I laugh at his revelation, placing a kiss on his cheek.
“Well I’m honored to be the one to do it,” I smile. He slowly sits up, holding his head as if he’s dizzy.
“I’m fucking starving,” he sighs. I stand up, starting to get dressed.
“Well, clean up real quick and we can go get some food after I check on my brother,” I smile. His eyes light up at the mention of food. He stands, taking a step then stopping, looking at me confused. He takes another step, stopping.
“You broke me, I can’t even zoom across the room,” he looks mortified. I giggle putting my hand on his shoulder.
“It will come back soon, give your body time to catch up,” I slip my skirt on, without my panties. “At least I know your weakness now,” I giggle.
“A dominant woman?” he smiles as he slips on his shirt.
“My used panties,” I smirk, motioning to the white fabric sticking out of his bedside drawer. His eyes go wide.
“I’m sorry you can ha-“ I cut him off.
“Keep ‘em. I think you earned it,” I wink. He looks away with blushed cheeks before dressing his bottom half.
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home is where the heart is
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PAIRING: soft!Tangerine x fem!Reader
WORD COUNT: 2.8k
SUMMARY: you and Tan have a free day, deciding that you want to spend the cold day together at home doing cozy and domestic activities.
TAGS/WARNINGS: tooth rotting fluff, pet names, swearing, established relationship, just cute domestic stuff. no mentions of ‘y/n’
A/N: unfortunately there’s no smut in this one, booo- I know I know. but I am planning another story that’s got lots of angst and a tonnes of dirty smut. I wanted to create a quick little cute story, that can be for everyone. it felt really weird to write something that had no smut, and just all fluff- so that was a challenge, plus ive been in a bit of a writing slump since my last post got deleted (yes im still pissed about it lmao) I was in a rush to post this, bc during xmas time I didn’t have much time to write this plus it’s 2023 (wtf?) also hope you enjoyed the holidays & happy new year💌 feedback is always appreciated. hope you like:)
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Frosty mornings like these were your favourite, waking up in his warm arms; the comfort and safety it brought you was something that could never quite be topped. Most mornings he’d ‘accidentally’ awaken you by playing with your hair, stroking your shoulders or tracing over your features. Today was no different.
Sometimes he’d wake up an hour before you, and he would become so impatient that he’d have to physically stop himself from opening your eyes.
Today he opted for a different route, growing restless; waking you up by planting kisses all over your face.
“Finally” he rasps as he sees your eyes slowly open “mornin'”
“Good morning” you sluggishly reply, still half asleep.
Noticing the sleep dust in your eyes, he swipes his thumbs in the corners of your eyes, softly removing the sleep crusties. “You look so pretty in the morning”
Shying your face away into the pillow “shut up” you muffle into the fabric before loudly groaning while you stretched in a starfish.
“Come back” readjusting you, so that your head rested on his chest- embracing you tight to him.
You adored the quality time you two shared, you could sit in comfortable silence for hours- just quietly enjoying each other's presence.
“What you fancy doin' today?” He asks, interrupting the ten-minute-long silent cuddle. Taking your hand, placing his against yours above the covers.
“We got the whole day together right? I kinda wanna have a chill quiet day in”
“Good, me too”
“Okay good good- alright let me go now, I’m gonna piss myself” you say, trying to push yourself away.
“No, five more minutes” he whines, pulling you back in.
“I am ten seconds away from wetting the bed”
“Just do it in my mouth” he jests.
His response caught you off guard making you guffaw, followed by a loud gasp.
“Don’t- that’s not funny” now ripping yourself from his embrace, speed walking into the bathroom.
“Babe? I’ll go feed the cat, I’ll be downstairs.” Tangerine shouts from the other side of the door.
Last year you and Tan rescued a ginger cat from a shelter; he was very reluctant on getting a cat- in fact, he hated the idea, instantly shutting it down. You begged him for months and months until one day when he finally caved.
You thought that the cat would be your own pet, considering how much Tangerine was against it- but that was not the case; he and the cat were practically inseparable. He even chose her name before you could get a chance- naming her Mandarine (Mandy for short)
You were feeling a bit sweaty and grimy from last night’s dirty escapades, deciding to quickly hop in the shower.
Drying off and putting on some comfy loungewear, before briskly walking down the grand staircase.
“Something burning?” you shout out, once making your way to the bottom of the stairs.
Walking into the kitchen, stopping in your tracks looking around the room as if a bomb had just gone off in there.
“I know I know, it’s a shithole” he admits, resting against the worktop looking defeated. “I tried making you breakfast”
“You did? That’s so sweet”
“When I say breakfast I mean a pile of shite, you might get ill if you eat it” he says looking almost embarrassed, sliding the plate behind him- hiding it from you.
“I want to eat what you made” you sweetly coo, trying to make him feel a bit better. “You took time and effort, so I’d like to try it”
Reluctantly he pulls out the plate, sliding it along the counter towards you, looking away.
You tried so so hard to show a poker face because you knew that it would crush him if you turned your nose up at it. It looked revolting- just straight-up foul, but he could never know that.
Taking a fork from the draw, and walking yourself over to the island chair to take a seat. You were trying to decide what would be the least disgusting thing to eat. The almost raw scrambled eggs? The charcoal-coloured toast? Or was it the burnt baked beans?
Begrudgingly you slide your fork into the beans, scooping a mouthful and taking a bite. In your mind this was you showing him how much you loved him.
“No stop, I can’t let you eat that. I don’t want you to get sick.” He announces abruptly, pulling the plate away from you.
“It’s okay, I wanna eat what you made” sneaking your fork onto the plate again, taking another bite of the beans- once again proving some kind of bizarre loyalty.
“What you doing you knob?! Don’t eat it. I will go and get something from the shop” he blurts “anyway I used up everything in the fridge making this shit.”
“Thank you for making it, I really do appreciate it” you reassure him. “You go to the shop, and I’ll clean up this pigsty, okay?”
He jogs upstairs to change. You look around the room trying to decide where to start.
Clattering comes rushing down the stairs “alright my love, I’m off.”
Walking up to you, kissing you on the forehead “I love you, be right back”
Smiling back at him, “I love you, be safe” waving him off.
With the door closing you spin on your heel in an attempt to clean.
Putting on some music to help get you in an energised mood.
You couldn’t help but feel something was off with Tangerine, usually, he’s a pretty good cook- quite organised too. But with the state left in the kitchen, you wondered if something was on his mind.
~
Being so occupied with the music and cleaning you had no idea that Tan had been watching you for the last couple of minutes- too busy dancing and singing along to your favourite songs.
A couple light taps on your shoulder snap you out of your trance, instantly frightening you. “AH-ohmygod don’t do that” you shriek, turning the music right down- almost muted.
Chuckling to himself “sorry sorry” pulling his hands from behind his back, handing you the most beautiful bouquet of flowers “sorry I took so long, I stopped by the florists”
“These are stunning! Thank you” you respond full of joy.
“Always welcome. I’ll put these in a vase for you. Put your feet up… and thank you for cleaning my mess”
“Of course! And no it’s okay, I’ll put the shopping away”
“Wait, before you do that, get my phone… in my pocket” noticing you look around in a confused way. “My hands are wet, my phone in my pocket.. my joggers- the ones I’m wearing.” He knew that sometimes you could be a bit slow, so he made sure to never lose his temper with you.
“Oooh” cackling to yourself. Reaching your hands into his pocket, pulling out his phone.
“Okay good, unlock it… now go on photos”
Looking up at him slightly befuddled “are you sure? It’s your phone, I don’t wanna snoop”
“Yes- do it” looking down at you to see your reaction. “I know you love the sky… the sunrise looked beautiful this morning and thought you’d like a picture of it” focusing on you, trying to figure out what you were thinking.
“Why are you so thoughtful? I’m gonna send these to myself. It’s so pretty, thank you handsome” giving him a quick couple of pecks on the lips.
“Oooo wait- what’s this?” Finding a picture of him on a mission, showing him the selfie on his phone- mouth agape “looking good my friend, Jesus Christ you’re so pretty… I’m sending this to myself too”
Both beaming at each other. “These look good, right?” He asks, placing the vase on the accent table in the hallway, and adjusting them a couple times.
“They’re beautiful” smiling at him, from behind the fridge door. “Babe? Why so many eggs?” You ask.
“You talk about how much you want to bake again, I thought we could do that today” strolling over to you, standing behind you, and wrapping his arms around your waist. Resting your head back on his chest. “You are too cute sometimes, ya know that?”
Kissing you on the cheek, walking away to put the kettle on “fancy a cuppa?”
“Ooh yes please” you reply, closing the fridge and putting away the bags.
“Is that-?” Tan asks himself, walking over to your phone “it is” turning it up a bit. “It’s our song” it was live forever by Oasis.
Taking your hand, slowly swaying with you around the kitchen. You pick up Mandy, noticing that she wants if be included, holding her between you both as you step around the table. Smiling at each other, like a cute little family.
Once the song finishes you place the cat down on her favourite spot on the windowsill. Making your teas, taking a few sips.
“What do you wanna make?” You ask while looking through the cupboards.
“I’m partial to those blueberry muffins you make” he instantly responds, almost as if they were already on his mind.
“Ooh they do sound good right now actually”
Working together as a team, doing things as though your minds are connected- as if you both know what the other needs before they even know it.
Once everything had been washed up, you both waited impatiently for the timer to go off. You were sat on the counter and Tan was standing between your legs with his back to you, hugging around him, resting your face against his muscular back.
“Oh hurry up you stupid oven” you say out loud to yourself.
You could feel your face bob up a couple times from the vibrations of his chuckle
*ding*
Tan opens the door, pulling out the tray of muffins with the tea cloth, placing them on a heat pad. You rush over snatching one, raising it to take a bite. He cups his hand under your mouth because he knew what was about to happen next.
“Ashahsahash” you muffle, steam exiting your mouth, letting the piece of muffin fall into his hand.
“Hot?” He jokes, smirking at you.
“Yup”
Instead of throwing your bite away or putting it aside, he eats it straight from his hand. You hated to admit it, but that was so hot. Your eyes widened, looking away smirking.
“Go put sommat on the telly, I’ll be in there in a min- before you go, take in the drinks would ya?” he sweetly instructs.
You set the sofa with a few fluffy blankets, closing the curtains. Lighting some candles before flopping onto the sofa.
He follows not long after with a tray of goodies. The muffins, a bowl of pretzels and couple bags of chocolate. A few small oranges on the board to add some balance. He even decorated the tray with a flower in an empty beer bottle.
Setting it down on the coffee table. Plopping himself down next to you- adjusting the pair of you so that he was sitting in the corner of the sofa, allowing you to lounge into him.
Covering yourselves with the blankets. “What do you fancy watching?” He questions while picking up the controller.
In sync, you both suggest “Gavin and Stacey?” Which was followed by a laugh from you both.
With his arm draped over your shoulder, he lifted your jaw up so that he could give you a couple sweet deep kisses. Snuggling into him as the tv plays, Mandy joins- laying soundly on Tan’s lap.
~
After a few hours had passed, you wanted to get up to have a quick stretch and pee break. By this point, you were half laid on his chest and half falling down the back of the sofa. “Okay I gotta get up, my back is killing” you announce.
“Me too, I’ve been needing a piss the whole episode.”
“Quick break and rejoin in five?” You ask.
“Naa make it ten, I need a cig”
“Sorry, Mandy baby, mummy’s gotta get up” you softly say to the orange ball of fluff sleeping on the dip in your waist.
“Awh she’s so mean Mands, aww you poor thing, come to daddy” he jokes while picking her up, smirking at you because he loves winding you up.
“Evil” you respond to him shortly.
After your short break, gathering back together on the couch. This time his head rested on your shoulder as he cuddled into you, running your fingers through the length of his hair. Laying together in peaceful silence.
His phone rang obnoxiously, interrupting the quiet. “Hello? What?!” He snaps to the person on the receiver. Tan’s tone was always different around other people, he spoke to you in a gentle, caring, and loving way- he wouldn’t dare speak to you the way he does to others.
“Alright keep your fucking knickers on” he groans into the phone. “I’ll be right back love” he whispers to you, kissing your forehead before leaving the room.
Even though the door was closed you could still hear what he was saying, it muffled throughout the walls, but you didn’t want to eavesdrop.
“No! I ain’t fucking doing it. Find someone else”
Your eyebrows screwed together in confusion. “What was he on about?” you thought to yourself.
He re-enters the room, and you pretend that you weren’t listening to his call.
Slumping down next to you, looking irritated.
Turning round to look at him, you were concerned “you doing okay?” You question.
“Yeah. What you wanna watch now?” He asks, changing the subject.
“Hey? You can talk to me.”
“I don’t wanna bother you.”
“You could never” you reassure.
Huffing out a long breath before professing what was on his mind. “This Russian nut job wants me and Lem to collect his son and some ransom money in Tokyo. He’s been hounding us for days. I don’t want to do it- he knows about the Bolivia job and personally wants to hire us. But that man- he’s fucked in the head. I don’t want to get caught up in that shit.”
“Would it be selfish for me to say that I’m glad you don’t want to take it?” you admit. “I just want you safe. Why don’t you invite Lem over? You can talk it over in your office, I can make us all some dinner and maybe we can play some card games by the fireplace or watch some tv? He can stay over and hopefully it will help get your mind off it all?”
“Okay… we’ll try that. I’ll ring him now” holding your face, bringing it close to his- giving you a couple long kisses before leaving the room- going upstairs.
You hurry to the kitchen, looking through the fridge to see what to make for this impromptu dinner evening. Deciding on creamy chicken pasta with steamed veg.
Tangerine joins you a few minutes later, helping you cook the food. “He won’t be long, he’s already in the area”
“Good good, is his stuff up in his room? Or in the laundry?” You ask, wanting to make sure Lemon feels welcome when he arrives. A couple years ago you both turned a spare room into his room so that whenever he visits (more often than not) he’d feel comfortable and at home.
“His room” he replies like he’s trying to remember.
A couple echoing knocks come from the wooden door, and Tan rushes to it- unlocking it. A booming voice follows with footsteps towards the kitchen.
“Lem! Hi, welcome welcome. Hope you’re hungry” you gush, walking around the island to give him a hug.
“It smells fucking banging in here” he compliments.
“Thank you. Your stuff is upstairs on your bed, it should be clean and folded”
“Ah you are a gem”
“Dinner is almost done, babe you do drinks, Lem you do cutlery and I’ll serve” you instruct.
“You’re the boss” Tangerine says, saluting you.
Walking to into the living room, handing them their bowls, before taking a seat on the sofa between the brothers.
“What we watching?” Lemon asks before taking a bite. “Woah that’s fucking good,” he says with a mouthful.
“Thank you”
“Before you ask Lem, we ain’t watching fucking Thomas” Tangerine pipes up.
“What about Gavin and Stacey?” Lem questions.
Your neck whips round to face Tan, both bursting into laughter.
“What? Did I spit on you or something?” He asks sounding a bit embarrassed.
“No no! Just we’ve been watching that all day” you comfort.
“Yeah, I can watch it again” Tangerine chirps in.
For the rest of the night, the three of you plus Mandy lounged around. Watching tv and playing board games until it was time to sleep.
All of you getting ready for the night, saying goodnight to Lemon before heading to bed.
Snuggling into Tan under the duvet, using him as a hot water bottle.
“Thank you for taking my mind off everything today my sweet” he softly hushes. 
“Anytime my love” you soothe.
“I’m fucking knackered. Goodnight Clementine, I love you” he whispers, turning around to tightly spoon you.
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charmercharm3r · 1 year
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Overstay
BC
Masterlist
wc: 5.3k
Requested (though I’ve lost the request and can’t find it so if the person who asked sees this, I hope you like it!)
Synopsis: Your photography job was getting boring, then came your next client.
warnings: smut, explicit sexual content, idol!chan, photographer!female reader, oral (m receiving), bit of ass slapping, praising, protected sex, nicknames, just a bit of work-after-hours fun
-
Photography is a beautiful thing, you’d always thought, capturing life in real time and being able to share that. That passion for the art medium is what made you want to pursue photography as a career, never did you think you’d grow tired of it.
But people grow and start to fall out of love with the things they swore they’d never give up. You were working for a magazine company that generally focused on lifestyle and fashion, the target audience being young. That meant there were celebrity features every month to keep the magazine’s traction high.
You weren’t doing what you planned, capturing life and whatnot. No, instead you were photographing people that were put on a pedestal, some you’d come to realize after meeting weren’t remotely the same on camera as they were behind it. Some of the people you photographed weren’t worthy of their power to influence people, especially the audience your company sought after. Your hope for humanity had slowly begun to waver, growing tired of dealing with the same shallow, cold hearted people.
Until you met the model for this October’s issue. Bang Chan, you’d learned his name was. You didn’t really take the time to look into detail of the clients you were to work with after realizing they weren’t worth learning about. But your coworkers were just so excited he was going to be here, only having positive things to say about him that you couldn’t help but do a bit more research— in preparation, of course. 
A quick google search showed he was nothing if not incredibly well established. Self made and sincere, he seemed to hold so much weight on his shoulders, you wondered how he could be so young and so accomplished, for he was around the same age as you. Sure, both your careers were thriving, but aside from his immediate occupation as an idol, Chan has producer, lyricist, and a few other titles under his name. You? You were just a photographer who hated her job. 
The day of the cover shoot with Chan, you’d come in earlier than most to help set up as usual, making sure you had everything you needed. If Chan wasn’t comfortable, nobody working the set was. It was tradition for you to bring in some coffee for whoever was there earliest and another cup for the model, labeling it with his name and setting aside for when he arrived.
It couldn’t have been more than forty five minutes since you’d gotten to set when the door opened, walking in your client for the day. Alone. He was alone. Unusual, you’d thought, because generally there was an army of assistants and stylists following behind them.
His face was hidden beneath a hat and mask, dressed in an all black set of hoodie and gym shorts with just sandals on his feet. Your coworkers weren’t joking when they said he was humble, none of the other celebrities you’ve worked with ever came in with less than guns blazing. It was a shock to your professional system so early in the morning, to say the least.
He walked in with his head up high, looking for any signs that he was in the right place. It was sort of cute how he scanned the room like a lost puppy.
“Bang Chan?” You called out, setting your camera bag aside in exchange for greeting him properly. 
“That’s me,” he held up a hand, waving shyly.
The steps of your boots echoed throughout the concrete room, lack of bodies present only adding to the sound. The few employees that were here with you stopped to greet him as well, though going back to their work immediately.
When you reached him, you held out a hand for him to shake, to which he took politely. It was hard to ignore the difference in size of your hands, his much larger yet surprisingly gently to the touch. What was also hard to miss was how pretty his hands were, fingers long and slim and knuckles slightly bruised red. Perhaps he was just cold, or maybe he enjoyed a good work out. Would it be unprofessional of you to find out?
“I’m Y/N, head photographer. I appreciate the punctuality, but I don’t think we were expecting you until later?” Reluctantly, you let go of his grip, leading Chan towards the area where he could put his stuff and relax. Conveniently, it was also where you’d left your camera bag. 
“No, you’re right. I like to come in a bit earlier and get a feel for everything. Also get to know everyone I’m working with.” He was soft spoken, voice slightly groggy as if he’d just woken up.
Laughing and thanking him for his wonderful company so early in the morning, you offered him the traditional cup of iced coffee. “Oh, I don’t drink coffee,” his voice trailed off as if he truly felt bad. “Caffeine just doesn’t do much for me.”
“No worries. I’m sure you can give it to one of the interns when they arrive. They’re so excited to meet you, wouldn’t stop talking about it since we found out you were the one that’s gonna be on our cover.” You didn’t mean to out your employees like that, but something about Chan made talking just feel so easy, like you could say anything without judgment. 
The tips of Chan’s ears began to blush red, only noticing when he brought a hand up to thumb at the lobe of his earring. Cute, you thought.
“Ah, I see,” he shied away again, placing his bag on the table next to yours and pulling his hat tighter to his head.
“Don’t worry. I won’t let the vultures get you.” Placing a gentle hand on his bicep, you could feel him tense beneath the hoodie’s fabric.
Conversation with him flowed easily, Chan was a great conversationalist. Your hunch about being judgment free around him was right, for it seemed like Chan had a positive outlook on just about anything you’d said. He seemed like he was genuinely engaged and wanted to keep talking. The dimple in his cheek when he smiled was ever so endearing, you wanted to eat him up right then and there. For a moment, just as your hands brushed when the both of you moved to get more comfortable, you thought maybe he was a bit more interested in just the mundane conversation.
Though, there wasn’t much time to dwell on the slight rise in temperature in your cheeks, it was getting closer to when you’d both have to begin working. You’d explained the theme and idea you had in mind for the shoot, taking him towards the area you’d photograph him. The black backdrop was rather large, a deep red velvet couch in the very middle of it. The lighting setup was warm, not too yellow that would make the vibe more sultry rather than sunny. All the different outfit variations stylists put together were just a bit off to the side of the backdrop, mostly black and leather. “I thought we could take a more mature approach to this month’s shoot. But don’t feel pressured to do anything you don’t want to do,” you reassured him.
With a kind smile and thankful tone, Chan replied, “I never do.”
The shoot itself went smoothly, staff sprinkling various flower petals around Chan, who laid horizontally on his side towards the camera, and tossing them into the air as you took many different shots. Then, he asked for one of the light pink flowers, holding the stem and running the edge over his prettily painted red lips. Most of the shoot could’ve been rated PG until he did that, his eyes boring into yours as if he was looking for a reaction.
Chan sat up when you looked at him from over your camera, needing to see the image for yourself. He looked so comfortably sexy in all the right ways, an idea came to mind. “Could you take the jacket off? Just hang it off your shoulders,” you asked, trying to feign confidence that was wavering the longer he stared at you. 
He complied easily, corners of his lips peeking up and showing his dimples again while. After a moment of following your instructions, Chan stood, removing the jacket all together and slinging it over his shoulder. It took you by surprise how he started to pose by himself, movements fluid and natural. It made for some great shots. Then he placed the stem of the flower in his mouth, now free hand tucking under the hem of his tank top. You could see through your camera lense the bulge of his hand beneath the fabric, laying over his pectoral as the bottom rode up and exposed the plane of his stomach. It was like he knew you had to physically stop yourself from drooling, see him eye you like a hawk. Another devious smile played along his plump lips, mocking, toying from afar. A dull throbbing between your legs made you flex your abdomen, breath hitching. Bang Chan was humble, kind, genuine, and absolutely knew the effect he had on you.
The entirety of the rest of the shoot, you attempted to steer your mind back to work. Professional. You are a professional. A nice smile and cute dimples cannot and will not sway me, you thought again. 
Chan was as everyone talked about him. He spoke to everyone that worked with him, even the giddy interns, for a few minutes to thank them. But being with him for the shoot didn’t last very long after it was done, his manager trying to drag him out of the photo studio for his next schedule. 
You were attempting to seem indifferent about his leaving, eyes doing their best to focus on monitoring the pictures when Chan made his way to where you were sat. He stood behind you, placing one arm on the back and the other on the armrest of your chair, leaning over your shoulder. The warmth of his breath tickled your neck, indicating just how close he truly was. “Thank you,” he spoke softly, as if intended for your ears only.
It was hard to keep your cool when the smell of his cologne lingered in the air so deliciously. “Thank you, too. You’re a great model.” You gestured to the unedited pictures on the screen before you and smiled, only partially peering over your shoulder at him.
“Only because I had a great photographer.”
There was no missing the intentional flirtiness in his voice, not when his hand on the armrest was slowly creeping towards your forearm, fingertips only barely grazing your skin. Your gaze drifted from the screen to where he lingered, just watching. How he wasn’t fully touching you made the burning in your core light brighter, wanting nothing more than for him to take you fully into his embrace, engulf you in his brain hazing scent.
It was incredibly unprofessional, and could potentially end your career. Never had you ever thought of a client like this. Guess there’s a first time for everything.
The call of Chan’s name made you both snap your heads around, finding his manager beckoning for their departure and mentioning how he’d already overstayed his welcome. A deep sigh left his lips, and just as he was about to pull away, you grabbed his hand to stop him. “You’re always welcome here.”
A deep blush flushed his cheeks this time, trailing down his neck where his collar bones peaked out from beneath his shirt. It was dizzying to think that the shy, hard worker you’d met this morning was now feeling comfortable enough around you that he’d risk being late to his next schedule to stay and talk to you, not that you were complaining.
As badly as you wanted to act on your needs— the ones between your legs that’s been screaming for relief since the shoot started— your job wasn’t worth throwing away no matter how much you hated it. Meeting Chan today gave you the small taste of what you’d come to love about photography in the first place. So you let him leave with those few parting words, watching him saunter away with a cheeky grin and blushing skin.
Early to arrive, last to leave, as usual you stayed until all of the other employees decided to call it a night. It felt like there was just too much to do, you couldn’t go home even as the sun had set and the only light was coming from the other room. You’d taken to sitting on the prop couch where the shoot had taken place, laptop in your hands as you scrolled through the pictures of Chan. It was impossible to get him out of your head no matter how hard you tried, he was everywhere and there was nothing you could do to stop it.
Just as you were about to give up on work and close your laptop, the echoing of the door rang out. Footsteps grew closer to where you sat, but didn’t bother getting up. You’d thought it was just one of your coworkers coming back to help.
Then stepping into your line of vision, Chan peered around the corner. He was still dressed in the outfit he wore when he’d first come this morning, except instead of a hoodie, just a black shirt covered him. A tight black shirt.
“Oh? You’re still here?” He called out, waddling a bit closer before stopping and scratching his neck.
You held up your laptop, smiling sweetly. “What are you doing here?”
Chan awkwardly padded over to the table he’d initially left his stuff, grabbing a black lump of fabric. “Left this,” he laughed nervously. “Are you allowed to be here this late?”
“Are you allowed to be here at all?” The quick retort made him smile again, inching closer to the couch slowly.
“I generally don’t have places to be at midnight.” He stood at the end of the couch now, leaning onto the edge of it on his palms.
“It’s midnight?” The time truly awoke you now, eyes widening and looking at the clock on your computer.
His exasperated laugh felt heavy in weight, tired and exhausted as Chan slumped into the other end of the couch. “I see you’re a workaholic, too.”
You sighed, running your hands through your hair. “There’s just so much that needs to be done and so little time to do it.”
“I get it. Today’s actually the first time in a while that it didn’t feel like I was at work.” Closing the laptop and placing it on the floor, you turned your full attention to him now.
Seeing your sudden enthusiasm, Chan shifted his body to face you as well, resting his arm over the back of the red couch. “Really? Why is that?” Your voice was playful, hinting almost as you unconsciously scooted closer to him. 
There was no one around to see you press your legs together, reminded by his scent of how Chan posed for you before. The slight peak of his abs you’d caught replayed in your head, the warmth of his hand on your skin before he left. There was no one but you and him, sitting so casually next to one another just having a friendly conversation about the stress of work. There was no one around to tell you not to shift and tuck your knees underneath you, almost leaning into Chan’s arm that was still resting between you two.
“This might be a bit weird but…” his voice trailed off again, looking at your face for anything telling him to stop talking. Except there was none, and he continued, “I feel comfortable… around you, I mean.”
“Yeah? I’m glad. You’re a lot more fun to work with than others, for sure.”
“How so?” Chan leaned in closer, pressing the topic of first impressions.
It wasn’t the question itself that made you nervous, moreso how he asked it, how he waited for you to answer. There was an expression on his face that implied he was expecting a certain answer. The air was wafting with tension, as was your core. If you kept silent any longer, you were sure Chan would think you didn’t want what he was sure to be implying. After all, he didn’t need to stay when he’d already gotten what he’d come back for. Right?
“I was surprised you don’t drink coffee.”
“I’ve got a lot of stamina,” the answer slipped from
his mouth, whether it was playful or intentful, you didn’t know but hoped for the latter.
With a grin of your own, “I don’t doubt it.”
“What else?” Chan was getting confident now, less of an embarrassing flush across his neck and more anticipation.
You pondered shallowly, making him wait for your response. “You’re funny.”
“Funny? That’s it?”
“Do you really need the stroke to your ego?” If you weren’t hyper aware of everything at the moment, you might not have caught the way his chest slightly puffed.
“Amongst other things.” Your head tilted as the grin Chan wore turned devious, tempting in how close in proximity he was becoming.
“You didn’t just come back for your jacket, did you?”
The air swirled thick with pheromones, prominent from your lower half. If it wasn’t seeping from your pores, it sure as hell was off of Chan. The first wave of arousal you’d felt earlier because of him was hitting again, stronger now that you had him all to yourself. He was practically radiating lust, the words he spoke sealing the final nail of your coffin of desire.
“Amongst other things,” he spoke slower now, every word punctuated and voice an octave lower as his breath fanned over your lips. How you didn’t notice exactly how close he was was beyond you, head foggy with need. 
Without needing any other signs, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his, finally getting to feel them. It was a soft kiss, just feeling out one another. His hand on the backrest of the couch came to cup your cheek, pulling you deeper into him as the kiss became hungrier. Chan all but moaned into you when you balled your fists into his shirt, tugging his body down.
Your bodies moved together seamlessly, finding it easy to undress one another and get you onto your knees before him without a hitch. However long you’d been repressing the aching in your cunt, it could wait a bit longer. Because now you were kneeling between his spread legs, gesturing for Chan to raise his hips so that you could tug down his tight underwear. As his cock, hot and heavy, slapped against his lower stomach, the sinful sight of him towering over you washed a fresh wave of arousal through your body, probably dripping down your leg and onto the floor with how badly you wanted him. Chan groaned at the feeling of your breath against his cock, letting his head fall back against the couch but still watching you through heavily lidded eyes. The natural scent of his skin made you dizzier than you already were, mouth watering at the prospect of being able to feel him.
Softly, you dragged your fingertips up the inside of his calves, towards his inner thighs teasingly as you brought your lips to the skin of his right one, kissing the flesh ever so lightly. Just the tip of your tongue dragged a wet streak from there to the base of his cock, not entirely letting yourself taste him. Another strained groan echoed from his chest, urging you to hurry no matter how much he enjoyed the warm teasing of your lips. 
When you finally took the tip into your mouth, Chan let out an unrestrained moan, guttural and oh so beautiful. You’d only taken in a little of his cock and he was already falling apart. Flattening your tongue against him, you swirled it around the tip and collected the beads of precum that leaked, swallowing it without pulling off. The suctioning feeling pulled a few more whines from him, feeling satisfied in sinful ways. 
His hips lightly kicked up, wanting you to take more of him. You slid down on him slowly, engraving the weight of his cock on your tongue into your brain. And when you came to the hilt, you teased him more by attempting to swallow once more, throat constricting tightly around his cock. The action made his hips rut up into you again, this time harder. 
Stilling for a moment to let him feel you, you pulled off and let your eyes slightly cross to watch the way your saliva connected your lips to his dick. To say it was one of the hottest things Chan had ever seen would’ve been short of a compliment, right next to how you gathered your hair into a ponytail and took one of his hands to replace yours.
Your eyes grew wider as your lips wrapped around him again, then jaw going slack when you put all control into his hands, placing your own behind your back. Chan moved his hips closer to the edge of the couch and experimentally raised them, but it wasn’t enough. To get him to move faster, you pushed over his hand to guide your head, encouraging him to lead.
Once he was given this unspoken permission, Chan began gently to push you down, taking him deeper. Just before you came to sheath him completely, he suddenly roughly shoved himself into you, causing you to gag and tears well in your eyes. Water pooled in your mouth at the intrusion, drooling out the corners of your lips.
“You take me so well. That’s it, good girl,” he said breathily. 
Chan held your hair tightly, hauling you off his cock to look into your eyes. A gentle hand came up to the side of your face and swiped away the saliva from
your lips. A wicked smirk twitched his lips before guiding you back down, keeping eye contact as you took him again. 
He used your mouth like it was just a hole to be filled, and to be fair, it was. It was exactly what you wanted. You could feel the stress this man carried in the way he kept your hair in an iron locked grip, positioning you perfectly so he could thrust up and your lips meet his pelvis half way to deep throat. How sexy he looked from your position, manspreading and lightly sweaty as he seeked his high. The sound of you gagging on his cock, hitting your uvula with every upstroke, Chan’s abs contracted tightly, so close. You knew this,
growing impatient and more desperate and whining for him to abuse your pussy just as well. Three more harsh, deep thrusts and he pulled you up for air, taking rapid puffs of oxygen. Laughter echoed in your ears, his laughter watching you blink away your tears.
“Pretty girl, c’mere,” Chan reached for your arms and pulled your already weak body into his lap while simultaneously reaching for his wallet. Pulling out a condom, he ripped the foil packaging quickly and rolled it onto his cock in zero time. As badly as you wanted to slick up and down him, seeing as how he was just as ready as you, you waited, waited for him to tell you you could.
Biting your swollen lip, you pleaded with your glistening eyes for him to say yes. “Oh, you really are good, hm? Waiting for me to give you permission?” You nodded weakly, placing your hands on his shoulders and lifting yourself to sit higher. It felt natural to kiss him again, slotting your wet lips against his, let him taste himself.
Your hands wandered his body needier, like you couldn’t get enough of the way his skin felt beneath your fingers. No, you couldn’t. There was no way for it to feel like he could ever engulf you the way you wanted.
“Go ahead, baby girl. Use me. I know how badly you want to.” Upon his approval, you leaned into his lips again though not pressing fully against them, waiting until you stood his cock straight and sunk onto it slowly. Just as you did, you swallowed every one of his moans with the kiss, both your bodies buzzing in excitement and desperation. 
Clit coming into contact with the wet skin of his pelvis, the warmth of his skin sent shocks of electricity through you, wanting to rut against him. That feeling almost overrode the slight uncomfortable stretch of his cock, still adjusting to it. Chan’s hands came to run up and down your spine soothingly, he could feel the tender pulsing of your walls around him as you waited to move. A few more moments of sloppy, needy kisses, the friction against your clit started to feel more and more heavenly. 
“So big,” you murmured. Your hips began to swivel in circles, languid yet smoothly as you felt everything, everything down to the slight twitch as his abs constricted again. He kept your chest pressed against him, reluctant to let go as your fingers carded through his hair. For a bit longer you moved slow, but the need to feel the high was overwhelming.
Taking his hands from around your waist, you moved them down to rest against your ass to which Chan took handfuls of happily. With your own hands planted on his shoulders, you sped up, pressing your clit harder into his pelvis and his cock deeper into your cunt. It felt wonderful for a bit, but not quite enough. Instead you reached back and rested your palms onto his knees and flicked your hips in upwards motions, hoping to replicate that of a scooting movement. Your moans started to pick up, body moving animalistically as you found the sensation you were looking for.
Tingling took over your legs, the sound of your arousal lewdly bouncing off the concrete walls of the photo studio and the warm lighting coming from the other room made Chan look all the more alluring. As if he couldn’t have gotten any hotter, his mouth slightly parted and his hair was messy. A sweet blush took over his cheeks now, too, only barely visible like his blown out pupils. 
The more you whined in pleasure, the harder he gripped the flesh of your ass. As badly as you wanted to reach your high, it was getting harder to maintain a rhythm due to the soreness in your legs. You leaned forward and anchored onto his broad shoulder again, raising just your hips to smack back down into his. This made Chan moan out again, louder than he had all evening. 
“Fuck— just like that,” he groaned, burying his face in your neck and hair. “Ride me so well, take my cock like it’s meant for you.” His praise fueled you to move your hips faster, then he released your ass only to bring his hand down and leave a harsh slap. The sting made you ground your hips onto him hard, skin on skin echoing loudly. Chan grunted and sunk his teeth into the crook of your neck, as though he was holding back from being any louder.
Your walls constructed around him tightly, Chan was all but ready to blow. But no, he had to power through the intense pleasure. Though, your legs were growing tired, annoyed that you couldn’t use him the way you wanted.
“Lean forward,” Chan instructed as though he could hear your thoughts. Taking your ass into his hands again, he lifted you every so slightly and put your weight onto his shoulders. Just the tip of his cock stayed snug in your cunt. Keeping your hands laced in his hair, you held on, waiting for the impending fuck you’re about to endure. 
He adjusted his feet while you reattached your lips to his neck, eliciting a quiet whimper from him. Then, he testingly kicked his hips up, not sliding even half way in but the change in angle already had your eyes rolling back. At the small whine you made, it pleased Chan to know he could give it to you how he wanted.
He waited a few more seconds, but a few seconds too long because you wiggled your ass just a little, enough to make the head of his cock shift and rub your wet walls. “Fuck,” Chan cursed lowly, “impatient, are we?” His hand sent a few more taunting slaps to your ass before thrusting upwards without warning, filling you entirely. The sudden intrusion made you cry out, pleasurably so. 
Chan didn’t stop, he kept your ass cheeks spread and suspended in the air, the only reason you weren’t flying off his cock was because your hands were tangled in his hair. Truth be told, he loved the way you tugged it, the sting felt so good with how hard he was pummeling into you now. You didn’t have the mind to do anything but moan, the only coherent word from you spoken being his name. He wasn’t any better, so lost in your warm walls that he didn’t mind the feeling of your sweat mixing, also the scent of your skin messing with his head.
However, his grip began to falter and the need to feel you closer had his hands sliding around your torso again, keeping your chest pressed firmly against his. You were practically bouncing on his cock this way, ass rippling with every upstroke you met half way down, it made your moans jump and fall as well.
It was all in the angle, his cock brushing the inner part of your clit with every smack of his hips into yours. The coil in your gut strung tighter and tighter, so close to breaking. “Don’t stop— god, so big, ‘m so close. Please, don’t stop!” Your pleas came out in a higher pitch than intended, but that only made Chan continue his ministrations.
“Beg more, baby. How badly do you wanna cum?” His nails clawed into your back, probably leaving red marks to be reminisced later.
Another deep and hard thrust pushed the head of his cock into the spot that made your toes curl. “Please! So bad, need it so bad! Let me cum, please let me cum.”
“Fuck, you sound so pretty when you ask so sweetly,” his lips were practically glued to your collar bone, “cum for me, baby. Cum all over my cock.”
You loved the power he so easily has over you, simple commands slipping from his mouth making you want to do anything to please him. When he allowed, you lowered yourself just a little so that his thrusts became quicker and shallower, not pulling out completely and keeping you filled until the knot snapped. Just as you hit your peak, Chan stilled almost entirely, feeling your walls pulsing and keeping him so snug it was impossible to pull out anymore, like your cunt wanted to keep him there. And he wasn’t complaining one bit. The convulsion of your pussy practically milked him to completion into the condom alongside your own orgasm, to which it felt like lingered for minutes. 
Chan kept you tightly wrapped in his arms, sweaty and unmoving as the both of you caught your breath. It felt all too comfortable with him, much less professional and much more intimate. Though, intimate would be short in words based on the past hour you’d just spent together.
“Can I be honest?” He broke the simple silence, speaking quietly into your skin. You hummed for him to continue. “The taxi ride back here cost way more than the hoodie.” A short chuckle left your lips at his admittance. “What’s so funny, beautiful?” Chan asked, pulling away from his hiding spot in your neck so you could see the pretty flush of his cheeks, post orgasm glow suiting him well. 
“Your manager sure as hell isn’t letting you come back here, now.” He let out a laugh of his own, pulling you back into him and feeling his chest rumble.
“I won’t tell if you don’t. That is, as long as I haven’t overstayed my welcome.” 
-
A/N: i’m finally done with midterms and have more time to write. to the person that requested this, i’m so sorry it took me so long! i also apologize i can’t find the ask for it, but i remember seeing enough of the description to write this!! pls forgive me :,)
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k-femdove · 11 months
Text
Ruin Me | L.TY
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pairing :: sub!omega!Taeyong x dom!alpha!reader and slight kun x reader
warnings :: Professor Taeyong, college student reader, taeyong has a pussy bc he's an omega, the reader has a dick, kissing, slight exhibitionism (door is left open), fingering and oral (ty receiving), two orgasms, using a lava lamp as a dildo, feminization (reader calls taeyong a girl), slut shaming, major degradation, taking photos without proper consent, no aftercare (always do aftercare!!), sex for better grades
word count :: 2.8k
synopsis :: After your affair with Kun, Taeyong tries to confront you. It doesn't go quite the way he expected it to.
playlist link here or listen to gaslighting by onlyoneof
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For the first time, Professor Lee Taeyong drew a blank. He was an intelligent man with the wisdom and patience of an elder. No matter what people asked him, Taeyong would have a quick answer.
When his close friend and TA Kun showed up to class with a noticeable limp, Taeyong was concerned.
At first, Taeyong brushed it off as a good night. They were unmated adults, so what was the harm in having a little fun?
The more he thought about it, the less likely it got. Kun isn't the type to fool around like that, especially not before work.
A week passed, and Taeyong's concern grew. Although Kun got better at hiding it, Taeyong saw how he winced every time he moved too much. Not only that, but the limp never seemed to go away. Kun isn't big on sex and isn't in heat, either. They'd have to be fucking like rabbits for him to be sore all week.
Strange, huh? Taeyong sighed, shoving a few papers in his bag, and glanced at the clock. Five hours after his last class. Kun had left a little before that to meet you for tutoring. Speaking of which, how was that going?
Taeyong's stuck uncomfortably as he plays a game of never have I ever with a group of friends: Johnny, Kun, Doyoung, Taeil, Ten- you know, the usual.
Personally, Taeyong did find it a little childish. A bunch of thirty-year-olds getting drunk over a game of “Never Have I Ever” sounded stupid.
At first, the questions were innocent. The drunker they got, the more sexual the questions became.
“My turn!” Says Haechan, Taeil’s little brother. He's the only one that's still attending college.
“Never have I ever... Kissed a student?”
Taeyong frowns. What kind of question was that? They’d never-
Ten laughs and pours himself a shot. Right after he drinks it, he pours another and smiles mischievously.
“I think there's someone else that should drink here.” He says and hands it to Kun, whose eyes are wide with disbelief.
Collective gasps fill the room. Taeyong’s jaw drops.
“Wait, whaaaaat?” Johnny said.
“Kun, don't let Ten defame you like that!” Taeyong exclaims, turning to Kun’s flustered face. “You didn’t, right?”
Instead of denying it, Kun sighs in defeat, taking the shot.
“How’d you know?” He asks.
Ten scoffs. “I didn't even think you were trying to hide it! Your obvious limp, attachment to them, and weekly ‘tutoring’ sessions are all dead giveaways. Their place reeks of strawberries.”
Kun buries his head into his hands, mortified. Taeyong looks around, confused as to why everyone was being so casual about this.
“Hold on, who are you guys talking about?” Haechan asks, now wondering if he knows who they're talking about, but Ten waves him off.
The game is forgotten as the night continues, and everyone becomes wasted. Everyone except Taeyong, that is. Most of the others had gone to sleep, and he was stuck with a drunken Haechan.
“Oh, man.” Haechan groaned, stretched out on the couch. “I can't believe I'm spending my weekend with a bunch of old men.”
Taeyong can't even bring himself to be offended. His mind is already on something else.
You and Kun. Kun and you.
Although he was against it, Taeyong wouldn't report something like that yet. You were both adults, so it technically wasn't wrong. The issue was that it was affecting Kun’s performance. He wasn't as diligent in class and spent way too much time by your side. Taeyong was convinced that you were coaxing Kun into it for better grades, and he was about to put a stop to it.
You smiled as you sat in Taeyong’s office. His smile appeared slightly strained.
You took a look around the office. It was a decent size and relatively neat. Bookshelves lined the blank wall and a miniature lava lamp sat on his desk.
“How are things going with Mr. Qian?” Taeyong asked, starting lightly.
“It’s going great,” you respond honestly. “He's a very thorough teacher.”
Taeyong frowns. He's going to get this confession out of you.
“I see that you have a very nice... relationship.”
You hum in response. “I guess you could say that.”
Silence fills the air and you begin to understand what this is about. Your dismissive expression morphs into something serious. Taeyong grows uncomfortable as your gaze pierces him.
He suddenly becomes hyper-aware of your scent, overpowering his own. The omega in him struggles to ignore the faint smell of mandarin oranges and freshly cut wood, deep and arousing.
Taeyong wants to bang his head on the table. Damn him and his stupid omega body. He continues the questions, eager to get this over with.
“I just don't understand why you need to do this. I feel like it’s more beneficial to study.” He confesses.
Your eyes narrow. “Are you accusing me of sleeping my way through your class?”
Taeyong sighs. There isn't a way to sugarcoat it. “I'm not accusing you...”
“Well, rest assured that I and Mr. Qian’s relationship has nothing to do with my grades.” You say, defending yourself.
Taeyong stands and leans over his desk. “I'm sorry, but there is no reason for you to be doing it otherwise.”
You stand too, leaning closer to him. “Why don't you loosen up a bit, Mr. Lee?”
Taeyong takes a step forward, refusing to back down. All of his professionalism goes out the window. “You have everyone falling at your feet. What could you possibly be doing for all this attention?”
You inch closer, looking him in the eyes. If you were thinking logically, you would've sat down and avoided being kicked out of the class.
“I swear.” He continues, glaring at you. “If you even had the chance to try me, I doubt that you’d earn a better grade.”
You scoff, now centimeters away from his face. “And if I win you over?”
It surprises both of you when Taeyong envelops your lips in a kiss. Just as he realizes what he’s done, you pull him closer, kissing him back. Your hand meets his crotch, and he pulls away quickly, eyes wide in disbelief, but the damage is done.
“I can still leave before this becomes something we’ll both regret.” You tell him.
Taeyong hesitates. He was genuinely curious, and he had two hours before his next class. If he let you do what you were about to, it could provide him with valuable information as to why you were so popular. If it was for research, there wasn't a problem, right?
When you're met with no response, you turn away. You open the door a little before a hand grabs your wrist.
His breath catches in his throat for a few moments, as his mind suddenly goes blank. His face is as red as a tomato, and suddenly, it’s a lot harder for him to stay calm and composed. He tugs on your sleeve as he speaks out, his voice shaking, clearly full of nerves.
“Show me what you can do.” He whispers.
That’s all it takes for you to grab him by the waist and crash your lips against his.
Taeyong whimpers as you unbutton his shirt. You pull away from him, breathing heavily. The door is still cracked open, but that can wait. You know that no one was on this floor of the building around this time. All the other teachers and students had classes.
You sit him in a chair before removing his pants and leaving them on the floor.
“Bend over that desk for me.” You say.
He complies eagerly, knocking over a small cup of pencils. His white panties are positively soaked, turning slightly see-through. Biting your lip, you move closer. Taeyong’s brain goes foggy because fuck, this is happening.
You kneel to grab him and inhale his clothed pussy. He releases more of his scent, driving you crazy.
His scent is mostly tart and fruity blackberries, complimented by husky cedar wood and the floral undertone of bay leaves. It's by far the most masculine scent you've smelled from an omega, but that only makes you more aroused.
Taeyong seems to sense your fascination with his scent and mewls when he feels you nudge your nose against his underwear.
“Eager, are we?” You laugh, slowly taking his panties off.
He whines as you pull them down to his ankles before licking his cunt. His taste is somewhat stronger than his scent if that’s even possible. You don't wait before you slip your tongue into his entrance, tasting his walls. A hand reaches up to rub his clit in small circles.
The sensation lights a fire in Taeyong's stomach, sparks coming off of it in little bursts of pleasure. The contrast between your hot tongue and the cold air of the office makes him shudder.
To your surprise, Taeyong is a moaner. He's so absurdly loud that despite there being nobody on this floor, you wouldn't be surprised if someone heard him.
Replacing your tongue with fingers for a moment, you tut.
“Shush, pretty. People are gonna hear you.”
Getting back to work, you continue to please him. Taeyong flushes, quickly covering his mouth with his hands. He desperately tries to silence his noises, the sound music to your ears. In exchange, you delve deeper, savoring every bit of his nectar. A muffled cry escapes him as he cums around your tongue. You lap up all of his juices, not leaving a single drop.
When you pull away, Taeyong pushes his ass out more. He says a few words you can’t understand, but then it clicks.
“More?” You ask, smirking.
You see what he wants, but you can’t fuck him yourself. It takes much longer to stop cumming when you’re buried deep inside a cunt like his- the body knows you’re trying to breed. You can tell that Taeyong knows this as well.
Halting your actions for a brief moment, you ask him a question.
“Do you have any toys around?”
“No, but...” He starts, then pauses.
“But?” You inquire, wondering what he would say.
“The lamp...”
You turn to your left, eyes landing on the lava lamp sitting on his desk, unbothered.
Taeyong starts to burn up, a blush painting his cheeks.
“I knew the prestigious Mr. Lee was just a desperate slut.” You tease, reaching for the pink and orange lamp.
You slide it between his folds, watching the tip grow wetter as Taeyong leaks in anticipation. A soft gasp escapes his lips once more as reality sinks in. Even knowing what's coming, he can't help but blush again.
The gasps turn into moans when you thrust it in without warning. You slowly fuck him with the top, inching closer to the middle with each thrust. Even though your thrusts are slow, Taeyong can feel the stretch.
Eventually, you reach the middle, the widest part of the lamp. You watch as it disappears inside of him, stretching him open.
As soon as he’s a centimeter past that point, you pull out your dick, dripping with precum. You begin to jerk yourself off before harshly thrusting the rest of the lamp into Taeyong, hitting his G-spot.
The only part of the lamp that isn’t in him is the metal base you use to control the lamp, thrusting it into him.
Taeyong whines as you thrust at a snail’s pace, intentionally missing his sweet spot before pulling out until only the tip remained inside him. You watch in amusement as he desperately tries to fuck himself onto the makeshift dildo.
“Aw, poor baby.” You say mockingly. “Stupid slut will fuck anything, won’t she?”
Taeyong whimpers, shaking his head no. Despite his protests, his hips continued to roll against the lamp, desperate for satisfaction.
“You say no, but your body says otherwise.”
You pull out completely. Tears begin to form in Taeyong’s eyes.
“I suppose that’s all sluts like you are good for.” You say, thrusting the lamp into him mercilessly.
He moans, tears falling from both stimulation and shame, his whole body shaking and quivering from the intense sensations that were running throughout his body. He tried his best to hold in the moans, but the most primal and basic of noises escaped him.
“With a body like that, you could seduce anyone.” You continue as Taeyong’s moans grow louder despite his hands. His body and thoughts are both burning hot, endlessly aroused by your actions.
“That’s why you got the job, right? Sleeping with dozens of old men? Whoring yourself out to students and begging them to fuck your omega cunt?”
Taeyong cries out in humiliation. I’m not a whore! He wants to yell, but arousal pools in his stomach, and slick gushes out every time you degrade him.
You lean over the desk, whispering in his ear. “I could leave you in class like this. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Bent over for all your beloved students to breed you until you're full of hundreds of pups like the cocksleeve you are?”
Just like that, Taeyong is clenching around the lamp, thighs pressing together. He swears that he saw stars when his orgasm hit him, stifling a scream. Wave after wave of pleasure washes over, enveloping him in a burning fire of desire. His climax seems to startle him, a most yelling at the sudden and abrupt feeling.
Pulling the lamp out, it doesn’t take long for you to jerk off at the sight. Taeyong’s whimpers paired with his used body push you over the edge, releasing all over his used pussy with a soft moan. Even though you didn’t fuck him, there was still an absurd amount of cum. You pull his panties up a bit before shooting the remaining sperm into the crotch of his underwear.
Taeyong pants heavily, unable to move from his position. You grab your phone from your pocket, taking a video of the ridiculous scene.
His nameplate is visible, placed next to his ass. “Lee Taeyong, Ph.D.,” it says, written in a fancy font.
You caress his smooth legs, making your way up to his hole before zooming in. He whimpers as you lazily finger your release into his cunt, making sure to get it in deep.
The man sucks in a breath as you pull his cum-soaked panties back on him before flipping him over. After snapping a couple more pictures of his disheveled appearance, the phone is discarded on the table.
You hear a peculiar sound, jerking your head to look at the door. Before you can properly look, Taeyong wraps his arms around your neck, gazing at you with glossy eyes.
“Kiss me. Please.” He pleads, leaning into your touch.
You grab his tiny waist, kissing him in a way that felt much more sensual than anything you’d done earlier. More of his tart scent releases, captivating you.
He practically melts, a shiver going down his spine as he tastes himself on your tongue. He’s never been this needy for someone, and he isn't sure it's a good thing.
Taeyong whines when you pull away. Desperate for your attention, he grinds himself against your now-clothed cock. The cum in his underwear presses uncomfortably against his skin.
“Is my little girl still worked up? What a cockslut.” You tease, hand placed on his thigh. “I'd love to stay longer, but your class is in 20 minutes.”
Taeyong groans in response, nearly fucked dumb. You toss him his pants, not sparing him a second glance. His heart hammers in his chest as you leave, the sudden ache in his legs growing more prominent.
It's nearly midnight, but Taeyong is still wide awake. His fingers moved in and out of his soaked pussy, dirty, wet noises filling the room. He bites down on his dirtied panties to stay quiet, the taste of his slick and your bitter cum spreading across his tongue.
Your degrading words and lustful touch play on repeat in his head, pushing him closer to the edge. He picks up the pace, imagining calloused hands on his smooth skin. The hands groped him all over, treating him as if he were a toy. Your hands are all over his body, feeling him, pleasing him.
Taeyong's eyes are glazed over when he cums at the mere thought of you touching him, his release trickling down his trembling thighs. Still, he plunges his wet digits into his sensitive cunt until he's almost faded. It's only then that he absent-mindedly takes the panties from his mouth, rising with shaky legs to clean himself up in shame.
The next morning, you open your laptop to find your most recent assignment returned to you, an A+ in the place where your B- was the day before.
You really did win him over, didn't you?
239 notes · View notes
thewriterg · 1 year
Text
♡︎𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐲♡︎
pairing(s): Two Bit Matthews x gn!reader, Dallas Winston x twin!reader, Curtis Gang x reader
Summary: Dating Two-bit was a roller costar and it takes for you to step into a trap to finally snap watching the chaos in the Curtis household was the best revenge you could get.
Word count: 1.1k
Request(s): Can I request Curtis gang x reader where Y/N starts a prank war by drawing dicks on Two-Bit's back windshield with window chalk and not telling anyone they did it. —anon
Warning(s): Overprotective siblings, mentions of Slyvia, prank wars, sarcastic reader, kisses, pet names, and language
A/n:—GIFs aren’t mine— Okay so I just choose Gn reader bc this one didn’t specify and this was so fun to write! And ofc I put a little too much backstory into a simple image but that’s what makes me me lol
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The stupid war had started with Steve and Soda something about Soda taking a part away from Steve’s car causing it to malfunction that you couldn’t be bothered to care about
Actually you were never one to care about such petty things such as the wars the boys had found their self finding being Dally’s sibling you were actually more alike than you both were willing to admit
Or even how you were both overly protective over one another Dally being twenty minutes older than you and didn’t quite let you forget it especially when you had revealed that you a Two-bit were in a relationship
Or even how you were both overly protective over one another Dally being twenty minutes older than you and didn’t quite let you forget it especially when you had revealed that you a Two-bit were in a relationship
But you were no different neither of you were ones to get in relationships and even when it came to your flings or one night-stands you didn’t let up and when it came to Slyvia breaking your brothers heart you didn’t take it lightly
Let’s just say things were damaged. Car windows smashed. Tires slashed. Houses were egged, tp’d, and spray painted. Just utter chaos but what more could you expect from a Winston
It took Dal some time to warm up to Two not because of the fact he didn’t know him but being in denial of one of the guys your guys dating his sibling
But you ended up having a heart to heart semi screaming match and Dally finally gave you both his blessing not that you were going to act as if your relationship depended on it you were stubborn. It was just you Winston way but it was still nice to have your brothers approval
Now you were here drawing some pretty good looking dicks on your boyfriends cars windshield in the early hours of the morning with some white a black chalk you had stole picked up from the Markets window that they used to advertise weekly sales
Now how you got yourself in this position was quite simple
💌💌💌💌
You were getting ready for work in the early hours of morning as everyone slept soundly in Curtis household everyone had slept over making themselves comfortable on the floor, sharing the couch, or even in Darry chair that wasn’t at comfortable as he claimed
You and Two-bit had shared the couch with many groans and complaints from Dally and Pony occasionally joining in on the teasing
Johnny and Ponyboy had shared his bed because Soda had insisted staying up with Steve to play Cards they made themselves a comfortable pallet fort of pillow Darry slept in his own bed per usual and blankets on the floor while Dallas slept in the recliner chair
You were the only one who had to go to work that day a quick four hour shift you had no one to cover now you and your brother usually got by with stealing, lying, very illegal car races, and plain ole betting’s
But you had took the fall for something your dear ole Dal had did and got the choice of five years probation with no drinking and smoking or you could get a part time legal job to show court records something about occupying the access free time you had on your hands that got you into trouble
But it was simple enough you were a cashier at the DX working with Steve and Soda you could care less about the job someone could come in the store threatening to burn it down while stealing every penny from the cash register and you would barely bat an eye
So you’d kiss Two bit on his forehead not one for PDA even if quite literally everyone around you were unconscious snores abruptly bouncing of the walls around the room you’d still settled for what you did before getting in the shower
Getting out you decided to clean up your appearance trimming the ends of your hair that Darry uses taking the access hair sweeping it I to the small trash can that sat next to the side of the sink
You grabbed the old blow dryer under the sink plugging it up into the socket next to the light switch you turned on the switch to be met with a face full of flour that indeed got into every nook and cranny you didn’t even know you had as the sound of the old door connected to the frames hinges got your attention for you to turn and look to get a full view of the living room your boyfriends mouth slightly agape as he along with a fraction of the gang slept peacefully as an idea sprung to your mind
So there you were drawing dicks on your boyfriends truck cracking a few eggs that began to sizzling in Tulsa’s morning heat for good measure before grabbing your bag and walking to work with a smirk on your face in a pep in your step
💌💌💌💌
Opening the door to Curtis household was quite a site to come home to it was only 2:30 in the afternoon still quite early to being seeing what you were
Everyone was in a bunch that formed a lopsided circle yelling and screaming at each other you couldn’t get clear words from the conversation but you didn’t have a rough time figuring what it was about
“What if Y/n/n did it?!? Their the ones up the earliest” Steve stated as all attention shifted toward you while you couldn’t help but roll your eyes
“Oh come on Randle! You’re so desperate to get out of it you’re gonna blame my girl/boy/significant other!? You know they stay out of our shit” Two bit defended you locked eyes with Steve
“And for your information Steven I woke up late this morning and wouldn’t have all that time to do whatever it is you’re talking about.” You added on you were a good liar, a great liar even most people would’ve slipped up and would’ve said something about Twos car but it was getting an oil change and some needed washing at the DX and not in the driveway
You sat on the end of the couch your spot everyone knew not to sit in watching as the gang argued in Chaos hell even Darry did a little hollerin to get his point across. The only who sat off the loop beside you was Johnny sighing for the fifth time In one hour
Being silent and deadly was sooo fun
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underoossss · 5 months
Note
I saw you say you wanted some Halloween requests 😊 what about a Steve and girlfriend going to a haunted house and the reader is nervous about it and of course Steve tells her he's there to protect her and in the end Steve ends up jumping a few times and reader teases him about it.
thank you for requesting this, it was so fun to write! (I’m writing this again though bc it got deleted :( ) anyway boyfriend Steve is so wonderful and dreamy I hope you enjoy!
“It’s probably not that scary.” Steve says from where he stands next to you, his arm around your shoulder to help you fend off the chilly October afternoon.
The two of you stand in front of the haunted house, the main attraction of the Halloween fair, wondering if you should go in or not. Well, you are the one wondering if you should, Steve is confident there’s nothing to be scared of. Your friends already went in, leaving with laughter and many comments about the jumpscares inside. Yet your stomach turns at the idea of going in; you’re also itching to know what's it like inside.
“Eddie said we’re going to shit our pants.” You turn in your spot to face Steve, wrapping your arms around his waist as you look up at him. “You think he was just trying to scare us?”
“Everyone tried to scare us.” Steve chuckles bringing one of his hands to cup your cheek as he leans down. His lips brush yours softly, the tip of his nose as cold as yours when they brush together. When you open your eyes again, his are staring at you fondly.
“What was that for?” You smile at him.
“You look so pretty all bundled up.” He shrugs, kissing your Cupid’s bow for good measure.
You look down at your clothes, the chunky cream coloured sweater and dark green scarf around your neck. “Thank you Stevie.” You say glancing away from his loving eyes and back. “But we have to decide!”
Steve laughs and shakes his head. “Babe, I told you we should go in only if you want to.”
“I want to!” You nod, squeezing his waist and making Steve smile.
"Then let’s go." He motions towards the house, moving to step back but you shake your head and stop him.
"I’m scared!" You groan, leaning your forehead on his chest for a moment.
Steve sighs, exasperated, but his smile never wavers. You’re seriously the luckiest person on earth to have found him, he loves you like it's the easiest thing in the world. "Baby," Steve whispers with a fond roll of his eyes, "The guys were only teasing us because we didn’t go in with them. And these houses are only full of people with disguises. You’ll be fine."
"How do you know?" You ask him, sure that you're giving him puppy eyes.
Steve's grin widens. "Because I’m gonna be there to protect you."
You smile, loving how proud he looks just uttering those words. "Really?"
"Of course I will." Steve says and he bends forward, taking you with him as he kisses your giggles away. His lips press to the corner of your mouth and chin before standing upright with his arms around you. "I’ll be right by your side."
You believe him, and you know you're probably exaggerating but the screams coming from inside the haunted house paint a pretty horrific picture. "Promise, Stevie?"
"Of course," Your boyfriend winks, "Besides, if you make it through the house we can get all the treats you want."
You look up at him with a smile, admiring how wonderful he looks in the golden hour with the cotton candy pink clouds behind him. His perfect brown waves and lovely smile, the denim jacket over the thin sweatshirt and pink nose from the cold. Your heart beats louder and louder against your chest, for him this time. "Okay, deal."
"That’s, my girl." Steve smiles and prompts you to turn around and make your way to the queue. "We'll have fun, you'll see."
There are five other people waiting when two of you get to the house and Steve is quick to intertwine your fingers and make sure you haven’t changed your mind. "Everything okay?"
You nod up at him, feeling nervous but more at ease with your fingers firmly intertwined. "Yup!"
Steve's about to say something else when a man comes out of the dark curtains at the entrance and begins to talk.
"There are markings on the walls and the floor to lead the way." He says, voice muffled by the Friday 13th mask he wears. "Hope you make it out alive."
"What the fuck." You whisper as the group starts to move forward. "That's not very reassuring."
Steve leans close to you as you enter the dark house, "They're just trying to make you nervous, it's only–"
A high pitch scream comes from somewhere in the dark room you stand in and makes both of you –and the rest of the group– jump. You try to look around but it's so dark you can't really make out anything except for the dim arrows that show the way. Steve's grip on your hand tightens as you move along, and you press your cheek to his bicep when eerie music fades in and out around you.
There's suddenly a crashing sound coming from the way you came in, which makes you turn around as the lights start to blink red and white. It confuses everyone enough to be distracted when a creepy-looking clown shows up out of nowhere and runs towards you. True to his word, Steve pulls you behind him but you don't miss the way he screams in fear just like you.
"Go, go, go." Steve says, holding you hand and urging you to continue. You know he can't see you but you nod anyway, trying to get away from the clown who suddenly disappears.
You have no time to wonder where he went because the lights go out again just in time for hands to start grabbing your ankles in a dark hallway. Steve and you scream, jumping in place and clinging to each other's hands as you try to get away. Things only get worse after that; a terrifying zombie scares you as you round a corner, then a demon-like creature comes running at you from an empty room, and lastly you're locked in yet another dark room with the rest of the group as creepy laughter echoes through the walls.
"Stevie." You whisper, arms around his waist as you wait for something to happen. "Is it over yet?"
Another voice, that's not Steve's speaks up. "Yes"
You turn around to find a horrible-looking creature smiling creepily at all of you, at the same time a chain saw comes to life on the other side of the room and the Jason from earlier chases the group out of the room.
Steve wastes no time picking you up and running out the, now open, door screaming until the two of you are outside. Hearts beating loudly and throats aching from all your screaming, you look around you to calm down. The sun has set in the distance and there's only a tiny hint of orange painting the now purple sky, some stars have started to shiny above you and the sounds of the fair around you bring you some much needed comfort.
Steve sets you down and you waste no time hugging him close. "That was horrible."
Steve nods against your hair and places a kiss to your temple. "Won't be doing that again."
You smile and move to look up at him, "Weren't you the one who said we'll have fun?"
Steve doesn't miss a beat, even as his cheeks flush pink. "I mean, it was pretty fun wasn't it?"
"You were screaming because it was really fun then." Your smile widens and hurts your cheeks. "It had nothing to do with the fact that house was deeply haunting."
"Exactly." Steve nods confidently and it makes you laugh. Looking back at your reactions now in the safety of the well-lit fair, a big belly laugh escapes you. Steve soon joins you, and the two of you laugh until your stomachs hurt.
"Thank you for protecting me though, Stevie." You gaze at him with what you know is all adoration; your hand pushes some of his hair back. "Even if carrying me out of the house was very dramatic."
"I had to get my girl out of there." Steve only shrugs then leans down to kiss you, once, twice, and three times for good measure before smiling against your lips. "Now, I did promise you some treats."
"Like this wasn't a treat just now?" You ask, stealing another kiss and feeling giddy you flustered Steve again. "You can lead the way, handsome. Maybe some hot chocolate will be good for you after all that screaming."
"Hey, you were scared too!" Steve pretends to be upset, even as he throws his arm around your shoulder and walks towards the food stands. "I was only offering some... moral support."
"Sure, babe."
✶✶✶✶✶✶
reblogs are always welcome 🥺
Masterlist
109 notes · View notes
Note
Could u please make n11 with Jinx, vi, caitlyn, cat, dina and ellie?
(Hello! So sorry but I cut out Caitlyn bc six characters is a lot, so sorry but here ya go, Enjoy!)
Falling Asleep On Them
Jinx
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This happens more than you would think
For both of you, really
Jinx doesn’t usually sleep at night, just naps here and there
How does she do it?
I have no freaking clue
But she was just at her desk, coloring on Fishbones because she found the parts
It was pretty bare so why not spice it up and add some mother fucking color
That it the Jinx way
So, as she is coloring the face onto it, she heard your footsteps on the metal of the huge fans
She was about to call out to you, say Hi and whatever
But she was cut off when she just felt you grab her chair and turn her around
She was confused but you just climbed into her lap and just…fell asleep
She just looked down at you for a bit before giggling to herself
She shushed herself like “Shush, (Name)’s sleeping.”
She was all smiling before she turned back to her desk and continued with her drawing
She doesn’t care if your taller than her, no matter your body built or weight
Sleep on her, she doesn't care!
It makes her happy!
Vi
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Vi likes holding you, for some reason
She just likes knowing you are there
She also likes being held tbh
So if you let her sleep on you from time to time, she’ll let you take a nap on her
On her shoulder, in her lap or with your head in her lap
She doesn’t care
As long as she can continue with whatever she is doing, she’s fine
But if she were ever in a situation where she couldn’t continue in fear of waking you up
You will wake up to her frozen in that exact position
She was wrapping her hands after another fight
Really Vi, really?
Anyways
She was wrapping her hand before she looked up and saw you sit in front of her on your guys’ bed
She just smiled at you and said Hi
She was confused when you didn’t respond but she just kinda smirked as you climbed into her lap
She had finished wrapping her hands anyway and just let you
After you were all good and comfortable, you fell asleep
She did not move at all, let me tell you
She didn’t move you either
She just sat there until probably hours later when you woke up
She didn’t care if she was starving, had to use the bathroom, got bored
Her motto is “Don’t move (Name), ever.”
Cat
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You don’t fall asleep on Cat much
Only when you feel like it or just need to be held tbh
She doesn’t like the feeling of not being able to move
So if you do fall asleep on her, it won’t be for a very long time
Like an hour or an hour and a half maybe
And that’s a hard maybe
The most you have ever napped on her was about forty-five minutes
She wasn’t doing much though when you did this time
She was just messing with some markers, drawing on her jacket since the previous colors had faded
And she heard the door to her room open
She looked up and just saw you plop onto the couch next to her
“Hey, Baby.�� She would just give a quick smile before you already made your move
Pushing her hand aside and maneuvering your way into her lap
Cat kinda just sat there and watched you do it
She kinda excepted it because she heard around your patrol squad the day you had
She would just let you have it this time
Once you were all good, you fell asleep and Cat just resumed what she was doing
She let you sleep on her for a little longer than normal
Be happy though!
It’s an accomplishment!
Dina
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Dina actually encourages you to sleep in her lap!
She likes holding you and being warm, especially on a particularly cold day in Jackson
She likes sleeping on your lap also from time to time
But actually prefers you sleeping in hers
She was about as sleep as you were when you walked through the door and joined her
She just laid there and let you climb into her lap and get comfy
“Why, hello there.”
Dina just bid with a smile, hugging you for a moment as you just laid your head on her chest
You both got pretty comfortable and warm
It’s no secret that you both fell asleep pretty quickly
It was a good nap
You both ended up in a pile of limbs after waking up but it’s a good way to wake up!
These are actually Dina’s favorite moments with you tbh
Ellie
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Ellie is smug about you being comfortable around her and sleeping on her
She doesn’t care if your bigger, smaller or taller than her
Throw that shit out the window and sleep on her for God sake!
She was finishing some sketches up in her journal when she heard the door opened
She was sitting on her bed also and just watched as you climbed over to her all quiet
She just smiled and set her journal down 
She helped you get comfortable also
“Tired now, are we?”
“Shut up.”
She would probably just laugh and lay back with you on top of her
She will hold her journal up behind your back to finish up but she also sometimes rubs your back
She will run her hand through your hair time and time again just because
Eventually, like Dina, would fall asleep too
She just wakes up and her book fell over on your back and her pencil rolled onto the floor
She probably went back to sleep
And when you wake up, you better pray she woke up also
Because she has a grip of steel and lets say this is not a situation you can get out of easily
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hawkinsindiana · 1 year
Text
okay. deal.
ALMOST PARADISE: PART FOUR - CHAPTER SIX OF NINE
pairing: steve harrington x henderson!reader
word count: 13.5k (THE MOTHERLOAD)
a/n: holy fucking fuck. literally the most ridiculous chapter i have ever written. INSANITY. can’t believe i’m about to say this but... this chapter is rated 18+. while there’s no actual smut, the scene is sexually charged, so for the sake of being safe, that’s why i’m using the ranking and the tags i am. also warning for intense and graphic descriptions of medical treatments and just genuine horrible angst bc you know me. OKAY I THINK THAT’S ENOUGH but huge quick shoutout to ms. ruby for helpin me make this steamy :). y’all know where to find the masterlist! ENJOY HEHEHE.
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“Max? I need those bandages!”
“Here, sorry. Didn’t know what size you needed so… I brought all of them.”
Max quickly shoves the collection of bandages into Steve’s hands. He thanks her quickly; he’s trying to run through the check list in his head.
“Do you have, what the hell is it, that peroxide stuff?”
After a moment of thinking, Max’s face scrunches up with regret, “Shit, no I don’t. I ran out a couple weeks ago. Nasty fall off some stairs downtown.”
Steve curses under his breath — that’s what he needs the most. A lightbulb goes off in Max’s head, the idea propelling her through the living room and into the kitchen. She appears a few seconds later with a bottle clasped in her fist, amber liquid sloshing around inside the glass.
“I guess this is the one time Mom’s drinking will be beneficial.”
Steve sighs; it’ll have to do. He extends his free hand and wraps his fingers around the neck of the bottle to take it from her. As soon as his grip is firm, he spins to return to the bathroom — his heart is starting to ache, he’s been away from you for too long. It’s maybe been five minutes, but with you in this state, it feels like it’s been much longer.
Robin is crowded inside the small room with you. The girl is nervously running her palm down your arm, attempting to comfort you until Steve arrives with the rest of the medical supplies. It’s not working too well — Robin’s notoriously bad at reassurance during stressful situations. On the other hand, Robin’s smart enough to know that your brother shouldn’t see too much of you like this. Dustin and Lucas are in the doorway, her body angled just right to prevent either of them from seeing more than a sliver of your face.
Sweat drips down your skin, coating you in a light sheen despite the grime that also sticks to you like glue. Crumpled on the floor, your limbs tremble and shiver without Eddie’s jacket to keep you warm anymore. The second Steve deposited you here, he returned it back to the other boy in preparation. Stabilizing you became his top priority the moment you crossed over into Hawkins once again.
Thankfully, it’s not blood loss that’s got you reacting this way — it’s pain, continuing to radiate from the wounds on your back and shoulder, the pounding in your head worsening now that there’s light surrounding you. The exertion from the back leg of your journey through the Upside Down exhausted what little energy you still had left; the events from the past couple hours all combined into an awful cocktail inside your veins. 
Steve pushes past Lucas and Dustin without much thought, his mind purely dedicated to returning to you. Max follows behind and hovers near the other boys in the doorframe.
“Hey sweetheart, I’m back. I’m here, okay?” He speaks quietly, setting the assorted items into the sink before reaching out to you. The skin of your cheek is clammy against the back of his index finger; the soft touch brings you out of your agony, even for just a split second. Steve’s crouched beside you, desperately trying not to let his overwhelming despair show on his face.
He turns away for a moment to snatch the Tylenol off the counter — four pills into his palm before he’s grabbing one of your wrists. Steve doesn’t particularly care what the warning label says, he needs to get a buffer for this pain in your system. Instinctively, you unfurl your fist before he easily passes the painkillers to you; a gulp of lukewarm water from Dustin’s plastic bottle sends it to your stomach.
“I’m gonna move you now, yeah?” Steve mumbles, shifting to weasel an arm around your back, “I know. I know baby, I’m sorry. You gotta- there you go.”
Whimpers spill from you as he scoots your body further from the wall, giving him more space to work with. Your eyes pinch shut until you’re settled, or until Steve can’t stand the pained sounds anymore — it’s hard to tell which comes first.
“Do you, uh, want any help?” Robin offers hesitantly. Not because she thinks she’d be of much use, but because she can already tell that this has taken a toll on Steve — seeing you so weak and desperate for relief. He shouldn’t have to do this on his own. 
Steve genuinely considers Robin’s assistance for a moment; having an extra set of hands could make this process significantly easier. But this… this isn’t like you’ve gotten a scratch on your knee; it’ll be painful for anyone who watches. She shouldn’t have to see this.
Besides, Steve’s pretty sure he’s the only one he trusts enough to take proper care of you. He might not be as adept as you at this sort of thing, but that doesn’t mean he’s incapable. He knows what to do, which order to apply everything in; he helped you recover from your gunshot wound last summer. He can do this.
There’s no one else you would want to help you through this. You trust him enough to allow him to hurt you.
“Thanks Robin, but I think it’s best if it’s just me,” Steve finally answers. He makes the mistake of glancing over towards the door, meeting the eyes of three dejected teens. Dustin’s gaze is glued to the small bit of you he can see, face contorted in a mixture of sadness and guilt; he never should have let you get on that boat. It’s a little easier for Lucas and Max to hide their concern, but there’s still a glint of it in their eyes, furrowed brows giving it away. Steve gets a major case of déjà vu. 
With a final pat on your arm, Robin gets up from the ground and ushers the teens away from the door. They don’t even try to fight her — that argument’s already been had. Steve would never dare to let any of them help, even though they desperately want to. Dustin takes one last glance before letting Robin lead him away with a comforting hand on his shoulder as even more sadness creeps in.
When she latches the door, Steve gets to work.
He doesn’t think you have the energy or strength to stand, although that’d be ideal, so the floor will have to do. As quickly as he can, he collects everything Max had given to him and begins placing it onto the tile, unpeeling wrappers and loosening caps as he goes. You taught him that — it’s significantly easier to do this sort of work when everything’s already opened. He washes his hands and finally settles on the ground behind you, face to face with your wounds. You can’t sense much of his presence behind you, but knowing he’s there is enough of a comfort.
Steve sighs. He has to resist the urge to bury his face in his palms before he begins. As much as he’d rather attempt to hug you better, or just press an endless number of kisses to your skin, he knows what has to come first. There’s a significant chance that this is the hardest thing he’ll ever have to do — hurt you in order to help you. 
Much to Steve’s surprise, you don’t make too much noise as he removes the makeshift bandage. Maybe you’re too far gone to care. The sting doesn’t cross your mind when the true pain lies even deeper beneath your skin — aches that will take more than Tylenol to quell. He reaches up to discard the piece of Robin’s shirt into the sink, desperately trying not to think about how much of your blood has soaked into the fabric.
Steve’s lucky Max has a decent selection of medical supplies to choose from. The problem is that he’s trying to work fast and put you through as little as possible. If you weren’t already reeling from searing pain, he’d take his time and give you as many breaks as he could. He’s more focused on preventing infection than doing a truly thorough job — that can come later. 
Cleansing the claw marks earns him nothing more than a few hisses from your lips; it’s uncomfortable but a mere fraction in comparison to what you’re currently feeling or have experienced before. The scratches are the easy part. It’s the bite that’s going to be far, far worse. 
Steve can’t help himself — even though it’ll make his job significantly more difficult, he has to offer one of his hands, sliding it through the gap between your arm and waist. A moment passes before you finally take it between yours, like you had to summon the small amount of energy it would take to move. Your grasp is weak, fingers barely clinging to him, but it’s enough. The minuscule comfort calms both of you, the weight of the conjoined hands on the muscle of your thigh serving as a solace. 
Max’s dining room is filled with the dread of a hospital, relatives and loved ones crowded together waiting impatiently for a scrap of news. You and Steve do a fairly decent job of keeping your heads in the midst of chaos; an unfortunate skill you’ve had to learn. But seeing how hurt you were, how delicately Steve led you from the gate, and how beside himself he was through it all — the others are left reeling. Steve’s never been this upset. You’ve never been this fragile. The rest of the group almost feels lost. If you two can’t keep it together, how are they supposed to? 
Not much sound has echoed from behind the closed door of the bathroom; inflections of Steve’s voice coaxing you or a rare response from you, mixed with an occasional sniffle or two, has been the extent of it. So when you finally cry out in pain, a sign that the worst of it has begun, they’re thankful for Steve’s original stubbornness. The sound makes Robin clasp her hands over her ears. Dustin’s face pinches, cringing intensely at how you immediately begin to cry. Lucas has to get up from his place at the kitchen table and start pacing slowly. Max’s grip on her arms tightens. 
Your lip is quivering uncontrollably, tears now rolling down your cheeks in addition to everything else. You didn’t think the pain could get worse, but it exponentially does as Steve dabs the bite with an alcohol soaked cloth. The hold on his hand is of bruising strength despite sweat clinging to your skin, making it tough to keep a firm grip. A sob crawls out of your throat, words deciding to materialize. 
“Steve, I can’t… I can’t do it. It hurts too much.”
“I know. I know, baby,” He mumbles back to you, trying to force back the tears at his lash line from the sight of you in such pain, “I gotta clean it, okay? I know it hurts but it’ll get worse if I don’t. Just hold on for me, yeah? A little while longer.”
Heartbreakingly, the semblance of a nod dips your chin down to your chest. You punctuate it with a whisper, “Okay.”
Steve nearly breaks right then and there. He’s taking care of you, he reminds himself. This has to be done.
While he wants to finish this task as soon as possible, he has to pause for a second. A trail of blood has begun to drip from the wound; Steve switches to a clean rag to wipe it away. The whiskey sloshes inside the glass bottle as he takes this opportunity to refresh the alcohol on the other. His hold on your hand remains unwavering.
You let out a particularly agonizing shout when he, as gently as he can, forces the cloth a little bit deeper into the muscle. Your head pounds, fuzzy and ears buzzing, eyes pinched shut as he continues. You’ve probably got two minutes before you black out from the pain. 
Steve swallows harshly. His thoughts are scrambled, only thinking of how much he wishes he didn’t have to do this. In a moment of clarity, he stops mumbling assurances and asks you a question instead. 
“What’s the apartment like? Tell me about our home. Big windows? The kind that let the sun into the living room during the evenings? C’mon sweetheart, talk to me. Tell me everything.”
Something else to focus on. You squeeze your eyes even tighter, as if you’re trying to visualize it in front of you. It works — the front door, a deep maroon, appears in your mind.
“The a-apartment,” You stutter, huge gasps of air filling your lungs in between your sobs, “The kit-kitchen has a green oven and… and wooden cabinets.” 
You stumble over your words, pain forcing its way out your mouth as Steve swiftly continues his work. Faintly you can hear him repeating it from behind you, sharing his thoughts but you don’t have the mind to take it in. 
“The bedroom,” You mumble next, trying to hold onto that image in your head. Your bedroom, where you’ll come back to each other every day. Your bed, the first one that will belong to both of you, piled high with pillows and blankets despite always using each other to keep warm. You won’t have to wait to see your love on the weekends, you’ll get to return home to him every single day.
“There’s a balcony. It’s tiny but… but…” 
The thought dissolves as your resolve crumbles, your shoulders curling into your chest, your head starting to tip forwards. A terrible whimper sounds from your throat as you feel pain begin to overtake your consciousness, darkness creeping in from your periphery. When Steve feels your grip go slack in his hand, he stops immediately, dropping the cloth to loop his arm across the front of your stomach. 
Regretfully he removes his other hand from yours to grasp your bicep, preventing you from falling, “Hey. Hey, stay with me, okay? I’m done, we’re done. No more pain, I promise.”
You nod sluggishly, the relief of knowing it’s over is enough to keep you from completely passing out. Although his work isn’t finished, there’s no way Steve’s putting you through anymore of that. His skin aches as he removes his hands from you — like they were meant to be there — and makes quick work of the large bandage Max provided. You wince slightly as he lays it over the bite wound; exhaustion prevents you from reacting any further. Additionally, Steve dresses you in a dark tank also borrowed from Max. It’s a bit small, but now you get to protect more of your modesty without Steve having to see you in Eddie’s clothes. A necessary step in his mind.
The moment the fabric’s settled over your abdomen, he’s ushering you into his lap, finally able to comfort you in the way he prefers. Your arms loosely wrap around his ribs — even in this haze of pain, you’re still hyper aware of his own injuries, desperate not to touch his bandages. As you slump, falling straight into Steve’s chest, it’s like the sky inside you opens up. You sob.
You’re tired, so fucking tired. Tired of this life you lead, tired of the trauma that haunts your every step, tired that something else has come between you and a normal life once again. You’ve suffered so much more than you deserve, Steve has suffered so much more than he deserves. The apartment, the symbol of domesticity for the pair of you, seems further and further away. You’ll never get it in the same way others do, even if the day finally comes. You and Steve will always be tortured by this and what’s happened to you, no matter how hard you try to forget. That fact feels so ridiculously, absurdly, disgustingly unfair. You two deserve that too.
There’s nothing Steve can do except sit here crumpled on the bathroom floor with you. He whispers assurances, apologies, literally anything he can think of to try and make this better. He understands the feeling far too well to try and stop you from crying; Steve doesn’t dare interrupt.
Once you’ve gone quiet and your hiccups and gasps for air have stopped, he waits for you to move first. When that moment doesn’t come after several minutes, Steve glances down to gauge how you’re feeling. What he finds is far from what he expects — you’re fast asleep.
Steve has a rule never to wake you. With your nightmares and everything in between, he knows how tired your body can grow when you’re forced to neglect your sleep. He’s seen it far too often; you fall asleep when you’re with him half the time. He likes to think that’s because he makes you feel safe. Whether it’s on top of him, beside him, or on the opposite side of the bed, Steve will never rouse you. You’re a rather light sleeper now; the fear of something occurring while you’re dreaming has created this habit in you. A small touch to your skin or a shift beneath you can bring you out of slumber with ease. 
So when Steve’s arms instinctively tighten around you and there’s nothing but a flutter of your eyelashes in response, it speaks to the depth of your exhaustion. He runs his thumb along the swell of your cheek; this rest is well deserved.
It’s gone far too quiet. The others have resorted to glancing between each other as they continue to wait; Eddie and Lucas have taken seats next to Dustin on the couch, hoping their presence is enough to comfort your brother. Nancy remains outside, where she retreated after her horrifying experience with Vecna; it’ll take a couple hours to process everything he showed her before sharing with the group. The girls have taken over the dining table — Robin and Erica sat beside each other, Max on the opposite side.
Dustin’s a minute away from throwing the bathroom door open to see what’s happening now, but it swings in on its hinges before he can. A few of their faces go ashy at the sight of you limp in Steve’s arms, one slung across your back with the other tucked under your legs. He quickly reassures them, voice hushed, “S’okay. Just sleeping.”
Heartbroken doesn’t even begin to describe the feeling that washes over the group, but especially the teens. You’ve always been strong, even before Will disappeared; seeing you like this is new. 
Dustin and Erica were with you as you led the rescue attempt for Robin and Steve. Not even a bullet wound could slow you down. Then in the fall of ‘84 when a broken hand and a concussion didn’t stop you from helping the others distract the Mind Flayer. Vecna finally broke you. 
“Is there, uh, somewhere I can-”
“Yeah, yeah. Of course,” Max interrupts Steve and silently beckons for him to follow to her bedroom. It’s a bit messy, but that doesn’t matter to him; he just wants somewhere quiet for you to rest.
As gingerly as he can, Steve places you onto the mattress laying on your side, praying that you won’t attempt to roll over during your slumber. He pulls up a blanket at the foot of the bed and tucks it around your neck to keep you warm. You don’t move an inch through the whole process, your soft breaths continuing despite the movement. 
Before he leaves, Steve brushes a few strands of hair away from your forehead and places a kiss to the skin. It lingers for a moment, like he’s wishing it’ll heal you instantly. Regretfully, an ounce of happiness blooms in him; he never gets to dish out affection while you’re asleep for fear of waking you. Doing something so simple as pressing his lips to your forehead while you dream shouldn’t be something that brings him joy. Especially with these circumstances.
When Steve turns, he’s met with the kids crowded in the doorframe. Well, they’re not kids anymore, but he swears he sees the same puny assholes they used to be, clad in frowns and sad worried eyes. It reminds him how long he’s been doing this — long enough to see them grow up right before his very eyes. His chest aches.
Quietly, he ushers them away and back into the hall. None of them protest, although they want to be with you right now. But before Dustin can move, Steve places a reassuring hand on his shoulder. He doesn’t need to speak for your brother to instantly understand. All Dustin can manage is a nod and a grateful smile in the hopes his tears don’t start again; his eyes are puffy and red around the edges. Silently, he enters Max’s bedroom while Steve briefly returns to the bathroom.
He’s pretty sure he could throw up, just vomit all over the sink. Some of your blood is on his hands, smeared and scarlett against his skin. He hates the sight. With a deep sigh and lips firmly pressed in a line, Steve washes it from his palms; he’s thankful it scrubs off easy. Unfortunately, something tells him this won’t be the last time he’s forced to patch you up. He wishes it didn’t have to be him.
Steve makes quick work of cleaning up after himself, discarding wrappers and soiled cloth into the trash can under the sink. He swallows two of the painkillers for himself — his wounds ache profusely, but he thinks he’ll be alright for a little while. What he wants to do more than anything is rest beside you. His chest burns once again at the thought; it’s been too long.
An absurd amount of worry and adoration sparks inside Steve when he shuts the door to Max’s room; Dustin’s taken the spot beside you on her mattress, sitting up against the headboard. He doesn’t feel like sleeping. Your brother’s face is wrought with concern and a smattering of other emotions, all of which Steve also feels brewing inside him. There’s nothing he thinks he could say to make this better — ‘she’s gonna be okay’ seems condescending and weightless. The truth is that yes, physically you’re probably going to be fine. Your body has healed before. Mentally… this could take quite a toll.
Steve drops to the ground and leans back against the nightstand, his arms balancing on top of his knees. From here, it’s easy for him to spot you out of the corner of his eye; with a slight turn of the head, he can see all of you. Aside from some mutters that echo from the room beyond, it’s completely silent. He can hear his own heartbeat growing slower and slower, adrenaline and shaky hands starting to melt away as he begins to relax; Steve clenches his fists once to steady them. 
A rather deep exhale from you has his eyes darting to your sleeping form. As his gaze roves over your face, Demobat blood and dust splotched across your skin, the tempting allure of rest creeps up on him. 
Steve doesn’t remember falling asleep. One moment he was watching over you and then the next Dustin’s hunched over him, poking him in the arm until he wakes. He blinks a couple times as he gains his bearings, mouth strangely dry, as Dustin informs him of what’s happening — Nancy’s ready to talk.
Under normal circumstances, Steve would let you rest and fill you in later; he has a feeling that whatever it is that’s been keeping Nancy preoccupied for the last few hours is crucial to the next step the group makes. Which unfortunately means he has to wake you.
Steve wants to be gentle so you’re not startled, but you need to get up. He sits down beside you and his hand grips where your hip is beneath the blanket — you haven’t moved since he placed you here. Your body only stirs a bit when he mumbles your name, so regrettably, he has to shake you slightly. A small whine leaves your throat as your eyes peel open; Steve crumbles at the sound. He moves his hand to your face, thumb gliding across your cheekbone as a comfort.
“I know, m’sorry, sweetheart,” He mutters before your irises lock onto him, “Nancy’s ready to tell us what she saw.”
As Steve helps you stand with an arm wrapped firmly around your waist, your focus is brought to the makeshift bandage around his abdomen; blood has started to seep through the fabric — shades of maroon and red nearly stop you in your tracks. The promise you made to him pops into your mind.
“Didn’t get to clean yours.”
He nearly laughs because of course you’re more worried about him than yourself. He opts for a small smile instead, choking back a groan as he straightens, “S’alright. It’s not that bad anymore.”
But Steve was right earlier; cleaning the injury has helped in the long run. While there’s still an ache in your muscles and the wound shoots with sharp pain if you move your shoulder too much, it’s not nearly as bad as it was before. The short nap has helped as well, your body less exhausted although you feel like you could still sleep for hours. You want him to have the same relief, especially as you notice his face pinch as the pair of you begin to move. He’s lying to you. You visibly pout at the thought.
Steve sighs. He does adore how much you love taking care of him. He gives in.
“I’ll let you take a look later, okay? I promise. Let’s hear what Nancy has to say, yeah?”
With arms linked together as you sit on the couch, your hands clasped over the crook in his elbow, you receive the worst news you’ve ever heard. 
You’re no longer fighting for your own lives, but for the lives of the entire town. Perhaps the world. Vecna plans to merge Hawkins and the Upside Down — a foreboding and tense feeling settles in the pit of your stomach. This is far more than you ever signed up for. Fighting a monster or two? Fine. Saving the town from complete and total destruction? You’re not even sure how to do that. But you do know one thing; Vecna has to be killed. You have to go back in.
It’s an awful idea — a sure fire way to get yourself and everyone you love slaughtered. But you think you’d hate yourself for the rest of your life if you didn’t try. You and this band of misfits are the only ones who can stop this, which is why you’re now helping Eddie Munson hotwire a Winnebago. Add that to the list of things you never thought you’d do. Sneaking into this poor unsuspecting couple’s trailer is incredibly sobering; with a new burst of adrenaline, you almost feel back to normal.
Eddie could probably do it himself, but considering the time crunch and the soon to be angry hicks outside, a little help wouldn’t hurt. To his surprise, you manage to strip your wire slightly faster than him; all that tinkering with your brother has paid off. It’s enough to impress.
“Shit, you’re pretty good with your hands, Henderson. Is that a uh-” 
Eddie clears his throat, smirking since he knows what he’ll be walking into — your boyfriend is looking over both your shoulders. He can’t help himself. Seeing Steve Harrington squirm and bunch up with jealousy is sort of hilarious.
“That a transferable skill or…?”
Before Steve can say anything, you’re laughing as you hand the wire back to him, “Oh I don’t know, why don’t you ask Stevie?”
Steve would be kind of mad that you so openly flirted with Munson in front of him if he wasn’t a bit shocked by the fact that he liked it.
“Stevie, huh? That’s cute,” Eddie immediately answers, forcing Steve’s brow to lift just slightly higher; he liked that more than he was expecting too. Robin watches on in disgust and confusion, her cheeks pinched as her gaze darts between the three of you.
The moment’s short lived as Eddie starts up the RV, the engine igniting and shaking your surroundings. Steve is forced to quell the raging blush that’s beginning to rise up his neck and practically throws himself into the driver’s seat; Robin and Eddie retreat back to the others while you take the passenger’s. You have to resist the urge to spit out directions as you speed away from the trailer park, Steve’s foot firmly on the gas.
The panic doesn’t wear off until Steve chuckles in disbelief to your left, head shaking slightly as he drives further from the scene of the crime.
“Now that’s the stupidest thing we’ve ever done.” 
You laugh along with him in agreement, nodding profusely, “I can’t believe you’re driving someone’s house right now.”
“Y’know it’s not so different from the BMW, Henderson,” He replies smartly. Knowing it’ll get a reaction out of you, he glances over briefly before he has to refocus on the road; his tone and the mention of his rich boy car earns him a small scoff and a roll of the eyes.
“Well if you ever want a break, I can take over for a bit,” You add after a pause, casting your gaze out the window, “Just let me know.”
Steve’s chest warms at your offer; it’s stupid how much he loves you.
“Thanks baby, but I got it,” He spares another couple seconds to look at you again, fully curled up against the fabric seat with your arms wrapped around your knees. Steve couldn’t dare ask you to unfurl from yourself; you look genuinely relaxed like this.
“I’ve kind of always wanted to drive one of these things around anyways,” He continues immediately, removing one of his hands from the wheel to wave his fingers through the air. 
You tilt your head back over towards him, shifting in your seat to turn a bit closer. The sun is streaking through the trees, casting the shadows of leaves onto your cheekbones as he drives. The dark splotches glide over your skin before the RV rolls across a brief patch of pasture; the sun bounces through your irises, now intently focused on him, the color highlighted perfectly.
Steve swallows, forcing his eyes back to the expanse of road in front of him. Fuck.
Your voice is light, a little teasing, “Is it everything you hoped for?”
“Eh, different circumstances, but…” He trails off, his tone matching yours, “It’s not so bad.”
“What do you wanna drive an RV around for? Are we going to a tailgate or something? Camping?”
Your humoring gets a small chuckle out of him, his eyes checking the rear view mirror — he adjusts it momentarily, “Sure, if you want, but I’ve always wanted to go on a road trip.”
Steve sees your face brighten slightly in his periphery, a smile growing at the thought. Touring the states in a Winnebago is so American and cliché it’s adorable. You don’t speak; you can tell he has more to say.
“It’s always been a, uh, dream of mine to do this with…”
He pauses for a second, nearly shrinking in his seat. He’s never told you this before. He doesn’t know why he suddenly finds it a touch embarrassing. 
Steve licks his lips, brow furrowed for a moment as he collects himself. His voice is softer than before — nostalgic or sheepish, you can’t tell.
“To do it with a big family or something, I guess. A few kids probably.”
Your face creases a bit in shock. You don’t know why it surprises you, “Really?”
Now smiling at the thought, Steve nods. His excitement picks up with your interest; the words flow out of him much easier. 
“Oh yeah, like a whole brood of Harringtons runnin’ around. A few lil’ nuggets, like five or six kids-”
“SIX?” You can’t help but sputter, eyes widening in pure shock. He laughs a bit at your outburst, darting his focus back to you for a second, “What’s so wrong with that?”
“Steve, my uterus hurts just thinking about it! Oh my g-”
You abruptly cut yourself off; you assumed he’d be talking about you.
You and Steve haven’t discussed the future at all, outside maybe a couple of months in advance. With your college education being a factor to consider, the most you two ever discussed were weekend getaways or plans for the holidays. Even with him now moving in with you, it was about getting to spend more time together, not necessarily promising a future. The decision was a natural progression for your relationship — you like it in the city, Steve hates it in Hawkins when you’re not there. Why not come with?
There never seemed to be anything wrong with that. You started dating in high school, when you were teenagers — the big picture wasn’t something to worry about, not when you’re young. You’re not much older now, but your lives are different. There’s more responsibility you have to consider, and in turn it has made both of you more mature. This is uncharted territory. 
Early on in your relationship, Steve had decided not to think too far ahead. With Nancy, he had gotten the better of himself and pictured their life together years in advance, wondering what it’d be like when things were allowed to be normal for once. In the end, that was one of the most detrimental aspects of their relationship. Enough so that when it came time for you, Steve forced himself into the present. He forced himself to take everything one day at a time, worried that he’d get carried away again and ruin what you two have. He learned to meet trauma head on instead of hiding from it, which actually wasn’t a difficult change to make — especially when it helps you more than you can articulate.
Suddenly, Steve goes several shades of red. In all the years he’s dreamed of himself having kids, he doesn't know how he never pictured that it’d be with you. You… the mother of his children. That image, the mere thought, has him swallowing harshly. 
The way you interact with the teens should’ve been a dead giveaway. You’d be an amazing mom.
His hands tighten around the steering wheel. Of course it’d be you. He doesn’t… he doesn’t think he wants to do it with anyone else.
Steve desperately tries to forget about the flush in his cheeks and the thought of sharing a family with you, but he can’t help but get lost in the daydream for a moment.
They’d have his warm eyes and your brilliant smile, the classic Henderson curiosity lighting a fire beneath their tousled curls. They’d be wicked smart, just like you. Perfect mixtures of you and Steve — the best parts. But most importantly, they’d be protected from all of this, kept so far away from the horrors you two have experienced that it’d be like none of it ever happened at all. 
It takes another second for either of you to speak again. 
Steve clears his throat, unable to summon the courage to look over at you. His grip on the wheel tightens even further, “But uh, I-I figured all of us Harringtons would rent somethin’ like this and just… go see the country. All of us, just for a couple weeks in the summer.”
“Take them to see the Rockies or that big geyser thing. Or Yellowstone maybe. The Space Needle? I don’t know… whatever they want. We’d go to all of it. End up parked on some beach in California, maybe learn how to surf or something.”
He almost feels guilty imagining doing this with you. He doesn’t even know if you’d want that with him — a family. After all, you’re the one in college. You’re going to be searching for a career in a couple of years. It’s silly to be thinking about something so serious as having kids when you have the rest of your lives ahead of you. Well, granted you survive the next couple of days.
Steve’s right, it is silly. But there’s also a huge chance that you don’t make it out of this alive. You think you want to have something to fight for, something more than just an apartment with him in the city. You’ve never really thought about what would come next, but you suppose-
“That does sound nice.”
The words spill from you before you can think. But it’s not a lie. You think you want a life with him. The idea of you and Steve pouring an abundance of love into some children — your children — living proof of your pure devotion to one another… you should be combusting due to how quickly your face heats. 
Steve can’t help it. He has to look over at you. He meets your gaze instantly, drawn to you like moths to a flame, like his soul is tethered to yours. He’s searching your eyes for something, although he’s not quite sure what. Maybe honesty, perhaps excitement. He’s a tad too overwhelmed at the concept of having children with you to think properly.
“You think so?”
You nod — a silent promise. You want to do it with him. 
“Yeah, I do.”
Steve blinks. You do too. He feels delicate despite the raging thoughts swarming through his mind. Everything around him seems trivial with your eyes locked like this, two colors that could be passed onto mini versions of yourselves. It’s unfair he has to look away. It’s unfair he can’t reach you from here. It’s unfair that all this could be is just a stupid dream, something to keep you moving until you’re cut down and bleeding out. It’s unfair that it might never happen.
Even though this is something you’ve wanted for only about thirty seconds, your heart aches at the possibility of getting to do it — getting to raise kids with your love and be the family both of you deserved but never got. God, you want it so bad. You didn’t think you could want something this much. You want to give Steve the chance to do something more with himself, be a father and nurture. He’d be so good at it too; it’s almost like he was made for it. Made to give love like it’s easy, like it’s a fierce instinct inside him he’s pushed down for far too long. You never want him to have to do that ever again. Not while you have him.
“Except… maybe two,” You say, shyly breaking the silence that crawled between you. You keep your voice low to ensure it stays between the both of you, “Two kids, I mean.”
Another smile starts to pull at Steve’s lip, far more gentle than anything else as he continues to stare at the highway in front of him, “Two, huh?”
You shrug slightly as you find yourself drifting further into this dream, joy filling your every limb, “Yeah. And maybe a cat or something.”
“What if I want a fish?”
���A fish? Wha-” 
You can’t help but laugh in surprise; Steve looks over once again. After a few moments of falsely pondering in thought, as if you wouldn’t give him anything he asked, you answer, “Okay, fine. We can do both.”
We. He doesn’t know if you meant to say it, but it makes his heart do something funny inside his chest. 
He exhales as his hands shift on the steering wheel, “Two kids, a cat, and a fish.”
Steve repeats it like he’s speaking it into the universe, manifesting it to occur in a few years — one of these times, something good’s going to happen to you. The idea of your little family indents itself into his brain, tattooed in golden ink. Steve won’t give up until he gets it with you. 
You nod in agreement, “Yeah, that sounds…” 
Amazing. Perfect, even. 
“Reasonable.”
Steve huffs and shakes his head at your word choice, rolling his eyes just enough to get a giggle out of you. His grin grows impossibly wider as he thinks about it for a second. Anything, literally any type of future with you sounds like the best thing he’s ever heard. 
He nods too, “Okay. Deal.”
A beaming smile, the kind that’s hard to hide, curves your lips in record time. You have to drop your chin and turn away before you can begin to smother it, the pads of your fingers ghosting over your face as you come to a startling conclusion: you and Steve want a future together.
The War Zone parking lot is packed to the brim. You don’t know why you’re surprised — with tensions rising in Hawkins due to Eddie’s disappearance and rumors of a demonic cult, it makes sense that the surrounding citizens would flock to arm themselves. You’re also in rural Indiana, which also means it could be busy just because.
Steve doesn’t like the idea of you staying in the RV with the Hellfire Club members while he goes in with the others — he can’t really stand the thought of leaving you right now. But Dustin’s right; if the basketball team’s looking for him, there’s a decent chance you’re on their list too. It’s not worth the risk.
“Get me some good stuff, yeah?” You say quietly, your fingers dancing across the skin of his forearm. Steve’s crouched beside the passenger seat with his palm smoothing over your calf, your legs still bunched up into your chest. He only lets a hint of his worry show on his face, his brows slightly furrowed with a small frown; he really really doesn’t want to leave you. He’d rather just crawl onto the seat and bury his head into your shoulder.
Steve scoots a bit closer, his hand hooking around the back of your knee as if it’ll keep him near you forever, “I’ll be right back, okay?”
You melt at the desperation in his voice; you can hear how much this pains him, even though you won’t be far for very long. You nod softly, the press of your fingers engraving the texture of your skin onto his. With your free hand, you reach over to brush a chunk of hair away from his cheek, “I know, Steve.”
Steve’s lucky Robin is in the middle of distracting the others with her rambling when he leans over to kiss you; his palms rise to caress your head between his hands, a firm but careful grip. It doesn’t last long, but you’re still breathless when he pulls away — everything the pair of you have been feeling over the last few hours is exchanged between your lips. You spy it in his eyes as well, a familiar intensity blooming in his pupils that’s mirrored in yours as well. Your gaze darts down to his cupid’s bow for a moment, half expecting him to kiss you once more but it never comes. Instead, Steve clenches his jaw as he tries to banish the influx of thoughts and urges that invade his mind. 
It’s tough to resist but he’s helped by Robin calling for him; you don’t breathe again until Steve’s touch leaves you. Something about that felt different than it used to, like there’s words still left unsaid and feelings still unprocessed. Maybe you’re just craving the closeness and his skin on yours — it has been a few days since you had time strictly to yourselves. But whatever it is, it makes you feel like you’re burning. 
Several minutes after Steve exits with the other girls, Eddie saddles up beside you. Although you’re parked on the side of the building and out of view from most patrons, he makes an effort to stay below the base of the windshield. He tosses an elbow over the armrest connected to the driver’s seat.
Eddie gestures blankly in the air between you, “Are you… alright?”
“Yeah, I’m a bit better now, thanks,” You reply, shifting your focus from out the window to him. His hair’s a little wild — wilder than usual — due to the lake water and from him fiddling with it. A few strands are twisted together, almost like he tried and failed to braid them.
“How about with the, um…” 
Eddie doesn’t really know how to bring up the topic, so he’s lucky you’re smart enough to understand what he means; the realization flickers across your face.
“Right, uh, not gonna lie I kind of forgot about that,” You answer with a light laugh in your tone, “Considering what’s happened in the past few hours, that seems like the least important thing I should be worrying about.”
Eddie scoffs to himself — it should be obvious to him that you’re barely thinking about that. You’ve been through a lot since your conversation with him in the woods. He feels a little stupid for bringing it up now.
“Of course, yeah. I just…” He trails off, a clink of his rings echoing through the air as he brings his hands together, “Just wanted to make sure we were cool after that. Pretty sure Harrington wants to kill me now.”
That gets a proper laugh out of you. At the thought of your love, you instantly cast your eyes out to the sprawling concrete like it’ll cause him to appear in front of you. You miss him.
“Steve’s really protective of those he loves,” You smile, feeling beyond overwhelmed that you get to include yourself in that group of people, “Trust me, you’re not the one he’s holding a grudge for.”
Instinctively, you trace your thumb along the back of your left hand. It falls into a small divot below one of your knuckles — a section of your skin that never grew back quite right. There’s not a day that goes by where you don’t regret him. All it brought you was anger and sleepless nights, terrifying dreams and painful memories you still haven’t healed from, like an unclosed tomb that won’t let you mourn what you lost.
Eddie might not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but he can read through the lines when he has to. He remembers the brace on your hand and the bruises on Harrington’s face. It was obvious that Billy had been the cause of the boy’s injuries, especially when he practically bragged about it, but he never figured Hargrove could’ve been responsible for yours as well. Suddenly it hits him — Billy Hargrove did a lot more damage to you than spreading a few rumors.
Before either of you has the opportunity to speak again, the door to the RV bursts open and the rest of your group piles in, plastic bags filled to the brim with all manner of supplies. It’s ridiculous how warm you feel when Steve takes his place in the seat beside yours; all he’s able to offer you as a greeting is a loving smile before he’s changing the gears and speeding off in a hurry. He shouts something back to your brother in argument as you start to peek through the bags placed by your side.
There’s a larger selection of medical supplies, meant for use in the event of any more injuries and to tend to those previously sustained. One is filled with bundles of thick clothes, another with a smattering of assorted items to make molotovs — gasoline cans, liquor bottles, and cheap t-shirts to slice up. Bullets knock against each other as you search a fourth bag and you instantly grow tense; you can spot Nancy’s shotgun out of the corner of your eye, making you worried what they could’ve gotten you in your absence.
Steve watches as the anxiety creeps up behind you like a shadow. He runs the back of his hand along his jaw, a light wash of stubble beginning to coat his skin, “Robin has your stuff. She insisted on finding you an outfit.”
Instantly, Robin materializes behind you, as if she was just waiting for someone to bring it up. As bubbly as ever, she pulls out a military green flight suit and a thick protective vest to be worn on top. She also hands you a thigh sheath, already containing a decently sized hunting knife, before passing over a much larger one. It’s a large machete bound in a brown leather sling with a wooden grip; it’s a bit too big for your hand but you’ll manage. As if she already thought of this, Robin finally reveals a set of fingerless gloves to assist with your grip on the weapon.
“Nance wanted to get you a handgun but I… figured this was probably a better idea,” Steve says as Robin returns back to the others. Your eyes dart over to him and you’re now able to properly take in his outfit change. It’s stupid how hazy it makes you feel — the sight of your boyfriend clad in the warm browns and greens of leather and camouflage. He looks strong, tough for the journey ahead. The contrast of his exterior with the soft vulnerability you know lies within has you swallowing harshly; it doesn’t help that Steve understood what you needed and pushed for another way for you to defend yourself. To say you’re overwhelmed would be an understatement.
“Thank you,” You whisper as you outstretch your hand to him with a grateful grin spreading across your face. Steve takes it immediately, his warm fingers curling around the side of your palm. As a response, he smiles too and leans over to press a kiss to the mark on the back of your palm. Your cheeks heat from the gesture.
After nearly thirty minutes of driving, Steve parks the RV off a deserted stretch of highway; the next exit isn't for another few miles, no one should find you all the way out here. As the group begins to stir, grabbing the supplies they’ve acquired, you stop Steve with a hand to his arm.
“Can I patch you up now?”
Right — Steve nearly forgot the promise he made to you. He nods once before lifting the bags he holds, “Yeah, of course. Just lemme drop these off outside.”
You’re taking stock of the contents below the sink when he enters a couple minutes later and shuts the door behind him. You’ve found a half-used roll of paper towels and some spare rags that seem clean enough. As you start to wash your hands, Steve peels off the jacket with ease and drapes it over the small booth.
“Alright, Henderson,” He says before yanking the shirt off by the back of the collar, “Where do you want me?”
You sweat your brain short circuits. Luckily, you gain your thoughts back to reply fairly quickly, but Steve knows you better than he knows himself. The miniscule drop of your jaw, slight pause of your hands beneath the water, and the pass of your eyes across his chest did not go unnoticed. 
“The couch is fine,” You answer as you try to forget about the warmth in your stomach. You’re unsuccessful — you have to push out a deep exhale while drying your hands. The tension’s building inside your body with nowhere to go.
You’re almost jealous Steve gets to relax against the back of the cushions while you tend to him, but all you want is for him to be comfortable through this. Using a foldable beach chair Robin found stashed beneath the bench, you situate yourself in front of him, one of his legs between both of yours. You instruct him to grip your knee if he has to, which he does instantly, his fingers a tantalizing pressure as you continue to prepare. Steve watches you patiently.
You sigh and glance up to his eyes, which pinch shut in anticipation as you begin to untie the fabric around his wounds. Steve gulps as the final layer is peeled away, exposing the bites to the air for the first time in hours. You have to push away the instinct to tear up at the sight of his stomach smeared with his blood and littered with injuries. Rather than dwell on it for too long, you get to work.
It doesn’t take long to wipe away the blood on his skin, thankfully — Steve doesn’t react much other than a short grimace when the damp cloth passes over a rather sensitive spot. As you soak a gauze pad in the disinfectant, you finally speak again.
“This is gonna hurt,” You mutter, moving to re-adjust closer to him, your hand hovering over one of the bites, “I should know.”
Steve lets out a noise similar to a strained chuckle, his neck tensing as he anticipates the pain to begin; he realizes you’re waiting for him to give the okay. He nods, “Just do it.”
As soon as the alcohol is pressed to his torn skin, Steve winces, his jaw clenching immediately. You watch his reactions intently, ready to stop at a moment’s notice. Your free hand tapping his leg forces his head up from the back of the couch, “Don’t bite down on your teeth like that, baby. You’ll break ‘em.”
A whimper of pain leaks into his sigh as you continue to dab the gauze around the edge of the wound. Steve runs both his hands over his face in exasperation, trying to remember and focus on your words, “Right, right. Sorry.”
You laugh a bit at his apology. When he lets out a particularly restrained curse, brows tightly creased, you know that it’s time for a break.
Even though you’ve paused, his stomach continues to clench, the waves of pain still rolling through his body. When Steve drops one hand from his face, you grab it instinctively; it’s already warm and sweaty, another indication of the state he’s in. 
“We’re gonna take as many breaks as you need, okay?” You assure him, tightening your grip on his hand as if it reinforces your words, “Anytime you need.”
You squeeze his fingers once more before preparing to continue the tedious work in front of you. This time, a choked whimper escapes Steve’s lips at the contact, his hand immediately back on your knee. You’re mumbling praises and comforts, not wanting to keep him in too much silence; Steve cuts you off, face still contorted in pain.
“Can…” He breathes through his gritted teeth, releasing them as he remembers your words, “Tell me about the apartment again. P-Please.”
You can’t help the heat that rises to your cheeks at his request. Given his current condition, you almost feel bad for being so giddy that he wants to know more about it. But you oblige, humming for a second as you think, tossing soiled gauze in the plastic bag.
“The walls in the bathroom are light blue, like the color of the sky today,” You say as you prepare another one, “The shower has a bathtub, which is very exciting and rare to find in the city.”
Steve can feel your words calming him down as he pictures every little detail you tell him. The cleaning goes quicker with your words with him seemingly distracted enough that you can work for longer before he needs a break. You save the details of the apartment for when you’re cleaning, and every break is the same; a rush of kisses to his hand, telling him how well he’s doing.
“There’s big windows, just like you said,” You add, a hint of a smile spreading on your face as you remember your first visit and switch your focus to the other bite, “You can see the park, and the sun comes into the kitchen in the afternoon.”
“The kitchen isn’t the biggest,” Your words continue, chewing your lip as you try to spring all the details back to your brain. 
“Gr-green oven?” Steve asks, voice mostly breath.
“That’s the one. There might be room for some dancing maybe,” You grin up at him, referring to the many times Steve has swept you into his arms while waiting for the oven to ding, insisting on a waltz. His hand squeezes your knee — not in pain this time.
Steve can’t tell how long it’s been, his muscles aching from how they’ve been tensed for so long. While you’ve stopped using the disinfectant, you’re still working away at his stomach, fingers setting him alight when you graze his skin; it’s a type of fire he doesn’t mind. He shivers.
“Are you cold?” You speak up as you wrap his abdomen in a fresh layer of gauze. You must have felt his shudder. Steve shakes his head, tongue darting out to wet his lips. He’s having a tough time breathing with you taking care of him like this.
Steve feels his body relax in relief when you tape the bandage down, going a bit limp against the cushions, but the expression you carry stops him; you don’t seem finished.
“What? What is it?”
Your eyes rove over his skin before landing on his neck. You gesture to your own as you reply, “Your throat. I’m just gonna clean it up quickly.”
With the couch as deep as it is, you can’t reach him from here. An idea pops into your head that makes your heart beat a bit harder inside your chest. You sigh in defeat, knowing what you’re getting yourself into by doing this, before getting out of the chair.
Steve’s brow furrows in confusion until you throw one of your legs over his thighs. While you’re planning on hovering over him, his large hands instinctively reach for you and gently tug you down to rest on top of him. Both of you feel flustered by the proximity, regardless of how long you’ve been together. Your breath hitches with his fingers now pressing into your waist. Steve’s jaw slacks — he’s known for getting overwhelmed when you’re above him like this. Regardless, a boyish, proud grin pulls at his lips.
“You’re blushing.”
You scoff as the alcohol soaked gauze makes contact with the skin above his collarbone. You shake your head slightly as you tease, “Yeah, yeah. Be quiet.”
The way you’re taking care of him — almost in a controlling way — absolutely wrecks the man beneath you. He’s got no say in the matter, forced to let you tend to his wounds with nothing but love and care. God, if Steve doesn’t adore knowing how much you love him. But then again, you’re also nervous at the closeness, displaying the softer and shyer feelings you hold for him. He gets both from you at the same time?
“Stop that,” You mumble.
“What?”
When you glance down to him, you’re met with his loving eyes, the same ones you know you can never refuse. You have to swallow harshly to try and keep yourself in check.
“Stop looking at me like that,” You respond, remembering to swipe the gauze across his neck, “You’re distracting me.”
Steve’s brows raise, his grin growing once again, “Oh, I’m distracting? You got on top of me, y’know.”
You decide to bite your tongue, opting to continue working with nothing but a small smirk tossed his way. Steve doesn’t have the same thought — he clamps down on his lip for a moment before speaking, his voice low.
“Could use a distraction.”
His fingers move to the sides of your hips before dipping under your shirt to graze your skin. His chest burns delightfully as your expression falters, but you do your best to stay focused. The hand on his neck has paused, just for a moment before you steady yourself and continue despite his teasing touches.
Steve is glad the bruises on his neck don’t hurt nearly as much, but he was right — you provide the perfect distraction either way. His hands skim up, his nails scratching your ribcage. You inhale sharply. 
“Steve…”
It’s supposed to be a warning. From the slight widening of his eyes, it definitely doesn’t come off that way.
The air is thick. It’s almost like you’re suffocating, throat closing up the longer you and Steve spend teasing each other with no crescendo. You’re not as strong as you thought — you drop your head a bit, your nose dangerously close to brushing against his. You need to kiss him, your eyes drifting closed.
After the day you’ve had, you feel this intense draw to each other, unlike any you have had before. Something’s different now, like your relationship’s shifted somehow. Maybe it’s the thought of making him the father of your children. Maybe it’s desperation after nothing more than a kiss or two for the last few days. Or even maybe it’s the fact you crawled out of an alternate dimension together, a place you could’ve lost each other to.
You’re both hesitating, no matter how badly you want this. If you start something… it could be difficult to stop. 
Steve’s brain reminds him of something. His pupils are almost fully blown out as he stares up at you, “I locked the door behind you.”
The dam breaks — your lips are on Steve’s in a millisecond; he’s almost caught off guard by how quickly it happens. He snaps just as quickly and is kissing you back instantly. You’re discarding the paper towel, or cotton swab, or… whatever it was you previously held; your mind is far, far too fuzzy to remember. Your top priority is freeing both your hands, which settle down onto his bare shoulders. 
Your breaths swirl together as one of his palms is removed from your back to cradle the nape of your neck. In a moment of courage, you tug slightly on his skin, a silent signal that you’d like to pull him up. He immediately understands, following you into a sitting position. The pain in his stomach doesn’t even cross his mind.
No, the only thing on Steve’s mind is your lips on his and your greedy hands, fingers digging into his shoulders in an attempt to bring him closer. He feels feverish — these kisses are hot and fast as opposed to the soft and slow ones that you usually share together. Both of you are spurring each other on, but not an ounce of passion is lost.
Steve’s hand on your waist grips you tighter, pulls you closer, and it forces another breath from you. The beginning of a whimper forms in your throat, your cheeks blazing as the sound escapes. His fingers slide into the hair at the base of your scalp as he moves his lips south, the warm press of his mouth finding its way under your jaw. 
Anger surges beneath the desire that pools in his stomach. Steve thinks that he finally understands the foreign, sudden jealousy he’s been experiencing. As he sits here with your chest arching into him and his lips on your neck, the thought of literally anyone else, but especially Eddie Munson, getting to touch you the way he does makes him feel incredibly possessive. 
To be quite honest, Steve’s not entirely sure how he feels about Eddie right now — there’s a lot of confusing thoughts running through his mind regarding that topic. But there’s one thing that he does know for certain. 
You’re his. Steve only wants to be yours. 
He only wants your wandering hands gliding across his skin, gripping tightly onto him when he pulls those beautiful sounds from you night after night. He only wants to hear your laugh in response to his terrible jokes, head thrown back in pure joy. He only wants your eyes to meet his from across the kitchen table, fully enamored with the domesticity of sharing a home-cooked meal together. He only wants your voice calming him from his horrific nightmares, tone full of understanding as you mumble gentle assurances. He only wants your lips brushing against his, smiling into his loving kiss. 
Steve only wants you. 
Instinctively, you tilt your head back for him; he knows where to go, which places to run his tongue and teeth along to earn those delicious mewls from your throat. Your hold on Steve tightens even further, hanging onto him as his mouth finds the spot on the side of your neck, almost close enough to reach your collarbone. 
He mumbles something incoherent to you against your skin, his fingers on your head supporting you as you whine, Steve beginning to leave his mark on the expansive skin of your throat. Your hands grasp at his shoulders even more, fingernails embedding themselves in the muscles there. It’s getting to be too much.
Steve thinks he could do this all day, just to listen to the sounds you make when he brushes his tongue and teeth along your skin. Your entire neck is flushed, warm to the touch and he relishes in the darkening mark he’s left behind as he finally pulls back. 
You’re his. 
Your chest rises as you pant to get in some oxygen, head a little dizzy from the sensations you just experienced. Steve observes you with a proud grin, lips wet and eyes shining as he plants another kiss on your neck, then your jaw. You meet him in the middle, mouths melting into each other. 
You still can’t get enough, drinking in the curve of his chapped bottom lip, the heat of his tongue — you pull back, trying to restrain from kissing him again when Steve chases your mouth.
“S’my turn,” You breathe, tilting your chin to gesture to his neck before you start littering your kisses along his jaw instead. 
Steve swallows harshly as your lips descend further, his breaths beginning to quicken and you’ve barely begun. This — your teeth and mouth on his throat — is one of his favorite things. There’s no particular spot you have to search for because Steve likes everything. Wherever gets you the prettiest sound is where you’ll go to work. His hands are flexing and clenching in an attempt to control himself as you kiss along his neck, carefully avoiding any injuries. 
It’s not until you reach a spot beneath his ear that you get the first groan, low and husky, and you can’t help but grin against him. A flare of pride sets you alight. You begin to suck on the skin, lips hot and soft. Steve curses, trying to restrain the noises building in his throat — there are some that could overhear after all. You’ll have to settle for whispers.
“Don’t stop,” He pleads, his palms sliding up the middle of your back; your shirt is caught on his wrists now, almost exposing your entire spine to the cooler air that surrounds you. It’s hard to tell if the goosebumps that litter your skin are from his touch or the sudden shift in temperature. He feels his skin growing hotter each second, desperate to envelop your lips in more searing kisses, but he’d be an idiot if he pulled you off him.
As Steve relaxes further into the sensation of your kiss-swollen lips on his throat, he finds it difficult to focus on one specific thing you’re doing; you’re all consuming. It’d be a disservice to you to only keep his attention on one element of your relentless teasing for so long. 
Your hands have drifted from his shoulders, one firmly grasping his bicep and the other deeply twisting your fingers into the hair on the back of his head. His grip on your waist falters when you tug lightly at the strands in your fist, earning you another restrained whimper from him. The added pressure of your body on top of his doesn’t make this any easier; his head spins, especially when you shift your hips a bit to elongate your posture and continue biting at the determined spot. 
Your nose bumps the shell of his ear every time you open your mouth; the light skimming is driving him insane in the best way. The light stubble that coats his jaw from the past couple days rubs against your soft cheek, further spurring you on in a way you can’t describe. Your fingers tighten in his hair.
His head finally falls backwards, completely giving in to your ministrations when your teeth not only pinch some of his red skin between them, but pull it away from his body. A full, unsuppressed groan vibrates his throat and fills the air; it goes straight to your abdomen in a pulse of electricity. 
Steve barely recognizes the sound that you pulled from him, not particularly caring anymore if someone overheard. What’s the worst that could happen — he gets chewed out by Robin? He’d take that any day if it meant this happened prior.
Another curse spills from Steve; he shivers, a stream of cool air hits the growing mark, your lips pursed as you blow a small amount of your exhale onto it. You’re finally satisfied with the work you’ve done, pressing one more feather light kiss to the bruising skin before dragging your attention back up to him. 
Steve’s eyes are still pinched shut, brow furrowed out of bliss; his face relaxes when your lips make contact with his chin, signaling your desire for further attention. He tilts his head back down, peeling open his eyes to see a smirk curling the corner of your mouth. 
“How’d I do?”
You’re preening, still high off the sounds you were able to earn from him, glad to know that you did a good job in pleasing him. He can’t understand how you’re able to switch from some minx, leaving dark marks scattered across his skin, hips shifting dangerously in his lap to this: a bright gaze, cheeks flushed, begging for his praise.
He’s yours. 
Steve actually manages to gather his thoughts enough to respond. His fingers splay out over your back as he quips, “I still don’t understand where you even learned how to do that.”
“That good, huh?” Your voice is laced with a chuckle, your eyes darting over his face as you brush a few strands of hair behind his ear. The moment is much softer than he was expecting, making his chest ache out of pure admiration for you. His voice is breathless, words mumbled as he cups the back of your head again, pulling you closer, “It was fucking fantastic.”
The kiss becomes heated immediately. There’s still this strong urge from your built up emotions, continuing to cloud your every judgment, especially as you continue to crave Steve’s skin on yours. He goes to whine in frustration when you pull your lips and touch away from him, only for you to grab the hem of your tank and tug it over your head. 
Steve doesn’t know where to look as his hands frame the delicate lines of your ribcage. He’s nearly overstimulated by you — a common occurrence in situations like this.
In traditional fashion, he decides to make a joke. It’s an attempt to playfully bruise your ego a bit and give himself the high ground; you’re gorgeous, you’re perched on his lap, you just gave him the best hickey of his life, and now you’re topless. 
He doesn’t know how he got so lucky. 
“Y’know, this is a little less exciting now that Munson knows your bra color,” Steve pouts, lightly tracing his middle finger up the strip of your sternum before his palm settles at the base of your neck. Goosebumps erupt over your skin as he continues, his hand sliding across your collarbone to fiddle with the strap of your bra, “Thought that was supposed to be a reserved boyfriend privilege.”
You know he’s only joking; you can tell by the type of smile that toys at the end of his lips. The look in his eyes, those full blown pupils — you know how he really feels. Regardless, you can’t help the teasing scoff that his comment pulls from you, an attempt to try and rile him up as you play coy, “So? Robin saw it too.”
Steve pushes out a really deep exhale, trying to pretend like that doesn’t mean anything. He knows Robin would never try anything on you (for a multitude of reasons). But he couldn’t help but notice the nervous swearing that accompanied her quickly darting her eyes away from you, not before they widened slightly at the sight. 
You return your hands to him, fingers skimming over his arms, “Besides, you took your shirt off too, Stevie. I think we’re even.”
His jaw tightens at the nickname, hands clutching you a bit firmer in a foolish effort to suppress the shiver that rolled up his spine with your tone. He clears his throat, “Well, it’s not a show every time I do it, is it sweetheart?”
You hum, winding your arms as loosely as you can around his neck, “I would beg to differ.”
Steve can’t help himself, crashing his lips onto yours once again. Your fingers thread into his hair, twirling the dark strands as you feel yourself growing more restless. When you shift again, hoisting yourself up higher, Steve stops abruptly. His hand, moving to re-adjust on your body, drifted over the bandage covering your skin — his throat goes dry. 
With hooded eyes, Steve stares at your face, grimacing at the feeling of the bandage beneath his fingertips. It’s a cold shock, a terrible reminder of what nearly took you from him. You understand, the same worry mirrored in your expression as you meet his gaze, now soft and full of concern. You can’t help but run your hand along his chest until you reach his own wounds, swallowing harshly as you glance down at the sight of them almost resting against your stomach. 
These pieces of your bodies are never going to feel the same. A part of you aches — you wish you had known there would be a final time the skin of his abdomen would be smooth and untouched; you would’ve spent hours worshiping the skin, saying good-bye to the familiar feeling beneath your hands. Steve would’ve done the same. Your back will never be the soft, delicate slope under his touch he’s learned over the last fifteen months. 
Someday soon, the skin on your bodies will be marred and twisted. The pair of you will be marked by this for the rest of your lives. The realization settles within you both: you and Steve are forever bonded, with souls fused together and equipped with the matching scars to prove it. 
No one will ever understand your pain like he does. No one will ever understand his pain like you do. 
“Are you…” You start but the words get caught in your throat, eyes still intensely focused on his wounds, fingers brushing around the edge of the gauze you placed there; Steve’s stomach clenches under your gentle touch, “Are you okay to keep going?”
Steve takes another second to think — he’s more worried about you than himself. Your screams of pain are still rattling around inside his head, twisting his gut even now as he holds you close. He thinks he needs to be even closer to accept that you’re okay, that you’re still here with him. 
“Are you?”
You drag your focus back up, taking the time to rove your gaze over his skin before landing on his face once more — the face of your protector.
Steve’s recounted his nightmares to you, at least the ones where he can collect himself enough to speak. You’re not surprised he’s so torn up about your injuries; it’s pretty damn close to the horrors his mind has previously concocted to haunt him. 
He’s had numerous dreams about you dying — that tends to be what terrifies him the most. The difference between your nightmares and Steve’s is the intensity. You used to get nightmares almost every single night, your anxious mind swirling about anything and everything, concocting a mix of the worst moments of your life to torture you with. 
When Steve gets his, one every couple months, they’re destructive. He’s always a step behind, a split second away from saving you when you’re taken from him. He’s shown images of you being swallowed whole by one of those creatures, or torn apart by a pack of demodogs, or beaten until your face is unrecognizable. It takes him hours to be able to fall back asleep, if he even does it at all. 
But you’re here this time. You’re alive. 
You swipe your thumbs across his cheekbones before cupping his jaw. Instinctively, Steve nuzzles further into your touch, turning his cheek to your palm and shutting his eyes for a moment. As he lets himself relish in the warmth you emit, he presses a firm kiss to the heel of your hand, sliding his nose along the side of your thumb.
The burn in your torso grows even more with Steve’s gentle affections; this is the man you love. The careful, passionate, amorous lover. He’s not a fighter, he never has been. But god, would he fight for you. He’d do anything for you. 
You confirm your answer with a kiss, which Steve graciously returns. His hands slide to the slope of your waist, with his left curling around to press into the small of your back and arch you even closer. With your thumb, you pull down on his chin to deepen the kiss; a sigh escapes you at the hot glide of his tongue. 
Your mind is going fuzzy again. You can’t focus on anything other than Steve’s soft groans and the slow drag of your lips against his until his fingers dip below the waistband of your bottoms.
The RV shakes — someone’s trying to open the door. They do it so aggressively that it shocks both of you back to your bleak reality. Thank god the door was actually locked. 
You’d probably fall backwards in surprise if it weren’t for Steve’s hands already on you, moving quickly to support your back before you can tumble. You grip his shoulders tightly to steady yourself. Eddie’s voice just barely pierces through your Steve-induced haze, eyes blinking as you try to adjust to the sudden change in atmosphere, “Open up in there, Henderson. Gotta grab something, it’ll be quick.”
You lock eyes with Steve and neither of you can help it — you share a breathless laugh, faces scrunching up in bright smiles, knowing how close you were to being interrupted far more dramatically. Steve can’t stop himself from kissing you through it, humming as you arch into him once more. A knock on the door has him sighing in frustration.
“Fuckin’ Munson,” Steve mumbles before you press one final kiss to his lips before you have to start removing yourself from him, leaving your fingers on him the longest to draw it out. He passes you your shirt as you stand, watching with hooded eyes as you put it back on with a wink.
His jaw clenches as you make your way to the door, twisting the lock and pulling it only part way open. Your annoyance leaks into your tone, but you try to sound pleasant.
“What do you need, Eddie?”
Eddie shifts his weight, gesturing to the interior of the RV, voice slightly muffled by the cigarette between his lips, “My lighter is in there.”
You roll your eyes. This is what you stopped for?
“Alright, where is it?” You ask between clenched teeth, pointing for him to stay there when he tries to enter. 
He brings his hands up in a silent apology as you disappear, shouting the answer to your question, “Should be in my vest on the booth!”
Steve laughs slightly, watching you flash a frustrated glance in his direction as he, unfortunately, tugs his shirt on over his head. The door’s shut as soon as you toss the small metal rectangle outside — Eddie just barely catches it.
“Nice hickey, by the way!” He calls through the door. You’re tempted to open the door again just to slam it. Your cheeks are glowing hotly as you sigh, turning on your heel to return to where Steve is. 
Steve himself seems to recall the gravity of the situation, and how far off track the two of you had stumbled in your little endeavor. His eyes track up and down over your figure as you pad back over, collapsing next to him on the couch, gaze eventually catching on the mark on your throat. He has no doubt that there’s a matching one on his skin, feeling it pulse in time with his heartbeat as the blood rushes beneath it. 
“Rain check?” Steve offers weakly. You roll your head to grin at him, an unexpected laugh passing your lips. It feels silly to be stealing these moments when the world is going to shit but grazing your eyes along the expanse of his skin, lips pinker than normal, you can’t find it in yourself to have any regret.
“Definitely.”
You don’t want your little bubble to end, but you suppose it has to eventually. You hate the thought that spills into your mind — this could be the last time you have him alone like this. Regretfully, you get up from the couch, but extend your hand for Steve to take. He waves it off, a sheepish smile pulling at his lips.
“I’m gonna need a minute.”
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whaleofatjme1920 · 2 years
Text
Only One He Sees [Sal Fisher X GN!Reader]
[Warnings: Like, none? I mean, I guess emotional cheating and angst.]
[AN: this is a hot mess!! But I just wanted to write something quick and angsty bc I adore Joji's song "Glimpse of Us". It's like,,,, 1:30 am,,,, be nice to me yall,,,,,, I haven't written anything of quality in eons. ALSO I don't ship Ash and Sal, I just needed a shoddy plot device im sorry. 2681 words <3]
Sal doesn’t do anything half-baked. He ensures that his all is in everything he does, everything he says, everything he means. And when he loved Ash, he loved her hard and with everything he was. Did you know their love story was slow? She’d always viewed him as a dear friend, and he’d always been hesitant in getting close to her. But through high school, they had grown closer. Ash’s love with him was almost perfect. No one had ever seen two people fit together as perfectly as they did. 
You couldn’t go five seconds without seeing their dreamy smiles and gazes peeking through the tiny sliver of windows on the doors as they passed by the other’s room, how they yearned for each other when seated far away, and gods, who could forget how they disappeared for hours caught in their own little world? Sal had never loved anyone as much as he loved Ash, and he would have spent his entire life with her if the gods had willed it so. But, good things never last, and Sal is unfortunately more aware of that than anyone else. 
He respected her wishes more than anyone else, even more than his own, and it led to their downfall. They were best friends before, during and after their relationship. A breakup brought up by differences in future lifestyles wouldn’t change that. But oh, gone were the halcyon days when they could be carefree kids in love. Sal considered a part of him gone with that relationship, his walls a bit higher than before when it came to matters of the heart. 
But you? You were a stubborn thing. You sat yourself down next to him in one of your classes your senior year of university, intrigued by the things he was doodling in his notebook. And he was charming, polite, his blue eyes smiled as you imagined his lips were. He had told you what a pleasure it was that he was meeting you for the first time, and you returned the compliment. 
A semester had never passed faster than that silly filler class with Sal. Every day you’d come in, 11 in the morning, plop down next to him and pass him some drink you picked up from the on campus cafe - one of many. You and Sal made it a mission from the beginning to try something new at the beginning of the semester. You watched over the weeks as something came back to him. You could have sworn you heard his heart beat again, he’d been so silent when you first laid your eyes on him. When the final class rolled around, you’d been saddened to realize that - 
“So this is where we part ways?” You said as you began to pack up your things. You had a small, polite smile gracing your lips, fingers just barely fumbling with the zipper as if to give him a moment or two to respond. But really, you enjoyed his presence.
Sal slowly closed his notebook before shaking his head. “It doesn’t have to be?” He offered. “H-Here,” he chuckled upon seeing your puzzled expression. He fished out a sharpie and made a small grabby motion for your hand. He held you warmly, gently, like you were made of glass as he painted the digits of his numbers onto your hand. “I’m surprised I didn’t give this to you earlier,” he admitted with a sheepish grin verbally popping through his almost shy voice. 
Your heart fluttered so fast, so loud, you were sure to take flight. “It’s nothing,” you said as you shook your head. “I’ll call you sometime soon!” You said it so fast, Sal hardly had time to register it. You felt like you were floating as you popped out of your seat, cutely waved to him and damn near sprinted out of the classroom to get back to your car. You heard his laughter. It was nice to hear him like that. 
It was safe to say that a relationship between the two of you blossomed after that. You kept him waiting a tad longer than he originally expected, but you were worried you would come off as clingy, desperate. It felt like hell waiting to send that silly little ‘hi! This is Reader, from-’. You must have written it dozens of times before clicking send and hoping for the best. But everything with Sal was so easy. Never had he made you feel like a stranger in the house the two of you were building. 
Some late nights, the two of you would park your car in the middle of an empty lot and stare up at what little stars you could actually see peeking through the night’s abyss. Looking for gems in a sea of ink had to be one of your favorite things to do with him, because when the heat of the sun was gone, he’d wrap you in his strong arms, and hum softly in your ear. Sometimes, Sal would whisper stories of how the stars above received their names. You felt loved by him without him having even said it. 
On one of these outings, you felt him pause. His painted nails had been just barely massaging your scalp when he pulled his fingers downwards, as if he was trying to run them through your hair. Upon realizing his action, he stopped, a slightly confused, and disturbed expression on his face behind his prosthetic. 
“What’s wrong?” You whispered, your body moving upwards a bit to tilt back to look at him. 
Sal shook his head. “Nothing,” he said, his gaze soft but still perturbed. “Autopilot,” he chuckled. “I’m sorry, baby,” he cooed in an apologetic tone before turning your attention back to the faint stars above, his low voice explaining them in a whisper only a lover was afforded to hear.
You studied him as best as you could, and for the first time you realized he wasn’t looking at you. Perhaps he never was to begin with. 
It happens, right? Sometimes people just do that. But this? This felt off, a deep seated pain that had erupted somewhere deep inside of him, spilling to the surface to a point he couldn’t hide it anymore. To say it planted a seed of doubt would be an understatement. It sprouted an entire garden. Everything Sal did, he said, you thought of what could have caused him to look at you as if you were someone else. Time and time again you were able to reap the fruits of your labor. He was constantly searching, touching you, hoping you were someone else. 
If you didn’t catch him that first time, you might not have ever caught it to begin with. It’s everywhere, glaringly obvious, practically lit up in bright red lights and bolded for you. The way you have to reposition his hand when you’re snuggling, his defaults are never in tune with yours, his humor just out of sync with yours, and how he lays in your arms feels so empty. You know he’s waiting, hoping and praying for someone else. So, why is he passing time in your arms? 
You never let your suspicion show. You treat Sal with the utmost love and respect as you can, watching as the summer ebbs to winter, and as the day fades to night. You tell yourself time and time again that it’s your problem. You almost make yourself believe it. 
Do you know the pain that comes with doubting someone you love so deeply? You ran yourself dizzy, sick, wondering who it could have been. You didn’t want to distrust him, you didn’t want to question him, but the thought of someone else having that effect on him cracked your heart into pieces. Of course, you did your best to hide this from Sal, but he’s a smart man. Of course he’d figure it out eventually. 
“You feel different.” It was stated as an observation, but you know he meant to prod more. His arm, draped around your blanket ending in his hand lovingly clasped around your outer shoulder to bring you in closer to his side lovingly rubbed at you. His thumb traced little moons and stars, circles, even hearts. 
“I do?” 
He hummed a ‘yes’ and nodded slightly. “What’s eating you?”
You took in a deep breath and attempted to push the feelings away. “Do you love me?” The blue haired man pauses his actions entirely, body rigid and expression taken aback. “What?” You can’t see his expression, but you know he’s shocked. “Of course I love you,” he continued. Sal’s voice is cracked, his confidence clearly taken a hit that you would doubt him. 
“Then why does it always feel like you’re searching for someone else?” You asked, no accusation in your tone, but rather genuine curiosity. 
The man at your side shifted again before a deep sigh echoed from his chest. “I’m sorry that I made you feel that way.” He studied your face as he spoke. “My ex, Ash, was my first love. I don’t love her anymore, I promise.” He reached for your hand and squeezed it reassuringly. “You are my everything. Always have been, always will be. But, I guess some part of me-”
“Misses her?” You finished. 
Sal scoffed slightly. “No, I don’t miss her,” he shot back. 
You could feel the defensive energy radiating off of him. “Okay,” you said softly, letting him calm down. 
He ran his fingers through his hair, a nervous tic, before taking in yet another deep breath. His shoulders rolled before dropping, practically drooping. “You’ve been so good to me,” he murmured, “I could never think of anyone else but you, Reader.” He’s lying through his teeth, but you believe him. You smiled, taking his hands warmy into his. 
“I’m sorry for being stupid or anything-,” you rambled, deeply unsettled about the feelings of dread pooling in the back of your throat. How could you ever compete with someone like that? 
Sal let your hands go before reaching back to his prosthetic, clicking it off. “I love you.” That was the first time he said it. 
It felt so empty. 
He leaned forward to kiss you. 
You kissed him back. 
The next few years that passed in your relationship with him were rather peaceful. You had almost forgotten about the pain, but every now and then his actions would remind you, and your heart would ache all over again. But, Sal is good at making you feel loved. You. You and you alone. And for a while, you were certain that he’d fallen out of love with Ash. 
Why did you tell him that you were okay with going to that little friends meet up? Why did you tell him that you would go with? Why did you tell him that you wanted to meet the people who he went to high school with? You already know Larry, isn’t that enough? When you first agreed, none of these thoughts were on your mind. You wanted to support Sal and genuinely see the people who made his high school years that much better. You wanted to meet who made him happy! 
And oh how sweet they all were. Larry’s more than used to you, but meeting Todd, Neil, Maple and Chug? You already feel like you’re one of the gang with how friendly they are. Larry’s made it his mission that you fit in - in fact, he seems more enthralled in the whole process than Sal does! 
“Is she coming?” You heard Neil ask, a small smile on his lips as his arm rested comfortably around Todd’s waist. 
“Running late,” Sal replied as he looked up from his phone. “She just texted me.” 
You feel something inside of you pluck roughly. The strings of your heart are being played, aren’t they? “She should be here in a minute or so.” 
“How’d she text that from her bike?” Snickered Larry in a lovingly teasing tone. 
Sal shrugged. “Just glad she’s coming today,” he added before coming to your side and mirroring Neil’s actions. He gently nuzzled you with his prosthetic, as if he was pecking a kiss to your temple before making a small motion to leave. “Did you want anything to drink? To eat? I know this place like the back of my hand,” he offered with another chuckle. 
“Maybe some more water?” You replied in a half questioning tone. You watched as he left your side before being whisked up by the other people in the room. 
You didn’t hear Ash come in. You didn’t see Sal forget you were even present. Being so caught up with his friends, you didn’t even realize your boyfriend hadn’t come to check on you in hours. 
You crossed through the place with Maple, a cup in your hand on the way to get some cake Chug had brought when you saw them sitting in a bay window. Sal looked positively invigorated with life. He was glowing on the inside and out just being by her again. His body language was so much more animated. His voice was lively. He was laughing at Ash’s jokes, even if they weren’t funny. And gods, how he leaned in just to hear her secrets. He contorted his form better just to be that much closer to her. It was like his heart was clawing out of his chest to be with hers. 
He was still in love with her. Anyone could see it. 
Feeling your gaze, Sal’s attention briefly moved to you. He saw your smile, something soft, something gentle, something validated after years of wondering. He waved at you from where he sat with Ash, just faintly disheartened you did not wave back. He watched as your lips turned slowly to a frown. He could hear your heart break. And even though he was looking directly at you, he still only had eyes for her. 
At that moment, you hated him, truly, and as deeply as one person could hate another. You watched as Ash commanded his attention back, and like a sweet little puppy, he followed. You knew he was smiling under his prosthetic. His touches to her were pure and sweet in a way he’d never afforded you. You thought back to all the lazy mornings and hazy evenings you’ve spent with him curled up in bed. Those touches that felt so foreign, as if you were a placeholder all made sense. It was a deep innate feeling you felt ever since you were gazing up at the stars with him. Finally, finally it was validated. 
Your body feels like it’s floating as the rest of the night passes by. You don’t see Sal until it’s time to go, and your words are failing everything you want to say to him. You’re angry, that’s at the forefront of the things you feel. You feel betrayed. You want to call him everything under the sun. His hand on your thigh doesn’t feel right. The way his lips press to the side of your head when he briefly moves his prosthetic to kiss you doesn’t feel right. You have every intent of getting out of the car and throwing your things into a suitcase and leaving the home he’s made you feel a stranger in. You have every intent of cutting your losses and moving to something healthier. You don’t deserve this. You’re practically seething in your seat when you hear him say it. Those four words that make you weak all over again. 
“I love you, Reader.” 
Your heart seizes. You think over your options. Entire lifetimes must have passed through your mind’s eye as you consider it, and you know that if you got into another relationship, all you would be able to see is him. 
He’s the only thing that matters to you, even if you're not the one that matters to him.
You bite back a sigh, a pained smile on your lips to follow as you face him. 
“I love you too.”  
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xbabybajix · 1 year
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Halloweenie w/ Hanma~
A/N: hiiii my fellow hanma stans!! here’s a small drabble? I thought of on the quicks for Shuji bc his birthday just passed and it got me thinking about what it would be like to spend halloween w him <3 hope everyone who reads enjoys! 
It’s October 31st and what better way to spend it with your boyfriend they call ‘The Reaper’ because of this Hanma thought of the idea as having you be a succubus and he as the grim reaper- picture this as a slutty couples costume
Hanma basically wearing the cloak with no shirt under and some leather pants w/ platform docs, and yours being a body suit with ass and titties out with some fake blood and cute lil horns too 
Hanma’s a pretty unpredictable guy so knowing what was planned for today was a bit worrisome, yall can either spend it going to random parties that Hanma got invited to, roaming around a downtown area and hitting up bars or clubs, or perhaps indulge in trick or treating if Hanma wanted something sweet to snack on while watching you strut your cute ass around the neighborhood.
Going to Halloween parties with Hanma is the best because he LOVES to coordinate costumes with you as you pleased, he needs to wear makeup? Sure! Anything his baby asks of him, she gets. Spend a full hour taking selfies together? Ofc! He has to show off his girl everywhere!! Yall love pregaming before heading out and pumping yourselves up to dance the night away!! (have a headcanon that hanma is a doja cat fan so that’s what you guys listen to before leaving)
Parties with Hanma end in a couple ways, either both of yall are plastered and end up being all over each other inside a random room, or someone ends up making moves on either or and one of yall ends up getting kicked out by the host for starting a fist fight but also ending it! :-) 
In the case where the night actually ends less chaotic than most, it’s spent with constant banter and flirting. Hanma likes to wander off to where he usually finds Kisaki or other members from gangs he knows and will keep an eye on you from afar. Your safety will always come first but Hanma likes watching you lose yourself on the dancefloor with your besties too, it turns him on seeing how your hips sway along with the beat of the music.
To spice things up in your relationship, Hanma LOVES to roleplay w you in public and act like he’s just some guy hitting on you and you LOVE IT because of the tension that rises when his face starts to ease into yours while feeling traces of his fingertips on your lower back till he reaches your ass and gives it a lil squeeze.
If Hanma notices you act more aloof and silly, he’ll know it’s time for yall to head out, when this happens it usually ends with you shouting out your profound love for him and it catches him off guard every time. Hanma is used to hearing you say loving things, but for some reason when you say it while being drunk, it makes his stomach do flips. They say the truth comes out when your drunk, so knowing that even in the state you’re in, you still choose Hanma every time.
Drunk y/n can be a handful sometimes, mostly because it ends with you throwing a small tantrum about how you can still have another drink or five before leaving and Hanma is not having ANY of that esp bc he’s seen you blackout and he refuses to let you get to the point of throwing up, but in the case that you do anyways, he’s there with the hair tie and water <33
If Hanma doesn’t feel like dealing with your brattiness he will just carry you over his shoulder until you reach your home and sit you onto your shared bed together, and will get all your things you use for your bed routine <3
Hanma is also the type to indulge you when you go off a tangent talking about the most random things you thought of while being drunk. “Oh yeah? I didn’t think of that” “oh wow baby you never told me this, that sounds crazy though” “And what else happened?” “you’re so smart even when you’re drunk too doll, its no wonder I love you” pls he says all this while helping you undress and get into your nightwear and then proceeding to take off your makeup and gently rubbing it off from your face.
Once the night has finally ended, hanma makes sure that you’re all taken care of again and then he starts to get ready to climb into bed with you. Nights like these end with you drifting off to sleep in his embrace but before you whisper your i love you’s and smother him in kisses <3 my guy is in heaven and loves the holidays for this reason 
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nakamurastorrington · 9 months
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Hello! Is it ok if I ask for a short Percybaster drabble?
screams. is it ok. IS IT OK. my good oomf i have been writing about nearly nothing BUT them these past several days. they have annexed my brainspace.
before we get to the drabble, here are your suggested readings (fuck sorry for the college term). i’n a chronic plugger bc we must make do with our meager treasures:
cherry wine: completed, under 3k words so very quick read, examines the potential of percybaster as enemies with benefits whoop
poseidon is horrified: drabble from tumblr ask, percy is very protective and says fuck olympus to his dad's face
percybaster college au meet-hate: what it says on tin
knock knock: drabble of al being in his love/hate feelings for percy LMFAOOOO
swimming: my most recent ask-inspired drabble, as in just posted... a few hours ago?? JHFDSJKADSH al is trans and percy is a sweet goof
anyway here goes
Night has fallen by the time they arrive at Keeseville. Percy is thankful that Al takes the initiative to quickly usher their travel-worn selves to a decent inn. For one, he knows the little village better, having camped there for a while some years back. For another, Percy’s too busy trying to pick Al’s plain John Doe disguise apart, searching for anything like glints of warm sienna underneath the nondescript blond or brief flashes of vibrant green when Al’s fake blue eyes dart around for any suspicious figures. Of course, there’s nothing; Al’s Mist work is flawless and airtight as usual.
“Hi,” Al greets the receptionist. “Got any vacancies for the night?”
“Yup! How long will you be staying, sir?”
At that point, Percy zones out. Wait, no, keeps an “eye on their surroundings.” Now that’s a totally valid excuse to tune out the pleasantries Al is dragging himself through with the receptionist. Except for Al’s voice—that, he didn’t bother changing with the Mist, and Percy quite likes the sound of his voice. Likes the way it thickens with power when Al yells his incantions, the melodious tenors he mindlessly hums while tending to his pocket magic herbs… the arid air it takes on when the two of them are verbally sparring. Likes it rambling about his theories and cracking from disuse and use and rasping and dropping with the intent of seduction and madly mumbling and gasping…
“… your price for two rooms?”
“I’m afraid so, sir.”
“You’ve gotta be joking. You guys sure as hell aren’t any five-star Michelin hotel, and I’m not gonna be spending—”
“Whoa,” Percy says, tuning back in. He blinks and smiles at the receptionist. “We’ll take one room.”
“We? Who the fuck is we?”
“You guys have one with a double bed?”
“What?!”
The receptionist untenses and gives Percy a knowing smile. “Yes, we do! I can put you guys up in it right away. Just give me a second, and…”
“Oh hell no!” Al snaps, but the receptionist already has the key off the hook and the warpath to their room ready. He whirls around and jabs his index finger in Percy’s face. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”
Percy shrugs. “Saving money.” He sidesteps past Al and moves to follow the receptionist. “Also just to be safe.”
“‘Just to be safe?’ That I won’t run away in the middle of the night?” Hurt bleeds into Al’s voice. “I’ll have you know, Jackson—”
“That neither of us get jumped by anything in the middle of the night,” Percy says lowly. Still sensing some ire, he tries to tease, “Aren’t you gonna protect me from the big bad monsters, Al?”
The receptionist finds their room and opens the door for them. “Here you go, sirs! Have a good night!” A wink and a jingle as the keys are tossed to Percy.
And they’re alone. Percy lets his bag drop to the ground with a heavy thud.
Al does the same with a clenched jaw. “I can take the floor,” he curtly says.
Percy sighs. Al and his hair-trigger temperament. Sometimes Percy can’t help but feel frustrated with him, constantly walking on the eggshells of their past. Al’s a victim of his circumstances, and whether Percy intended it or not, Percy happened to be one of those circumstances. But if Percy’s walking on eggshells, Al is trudging on with feet already scored and bloodied and infected, wounds that inevitably open at Percy’s presence.
It’s not so much for him to extend a little patience, in comparison.
“Okay,” Percy murmurs. Something trembles in Al’s hand, but Percy reaches out to quell it. “Before that, though, I wanna see your face again. It’s been odd, talking to another person that has your voice. That’s some Twilight Zone shit.”
“Why, haven’t seen it before?”
But Al strips his disguise, and Percy’s hands instinctively fly up to cup that narrow, freckled, sublime face. Runs his thumbs underneath spidery lashes, palms the familiar jump of the carotid artery, ghosts his fingers down the swell of Al’s mouth and the ridge of his clavicle. Eyes like toxic radium glint judgementally up at him in the unlit room, and Percy can’t help but press a kiss to each of Al’s eyelids.
“Still mad?” And he grins when Al doesn’t answer, save for a huff. It’s as good an admission as any.
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bernardisgross · 11 months
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Warning for : tca, eating disorder, depression
this is just a block of babbling
Today i chopped lots of veggies to freeze and cook later ! I’m exhausted rn but so happy ^^ ! I had a bit of extra money this month thanks to my employer being scared of gov retribution and finally giving us our yearly bonus ^^ so i went out several times this week to buy lots of food !!! Yesterday was such a nice day i went downtown with my cart and walked for three hours from one shop to the other then back home to get special imported groceries i can’t find near me. I’m planning on doing some meal prep again ! wow ... haven’t doing that in a long while ! I used to do that a lot in uni (back then i was unemployed and i got so extra careful with groceries when i started living in dorms which lasted for humm ?? 4 years ??) and especially when i was living in japan. I was EXTRA super poor back then so i had all these pre-portioned stuff i had cooked myself in the freezer (thank goodness i had a freezer in my dorm room °_°) and thanks to that i could get a meal a day. But i was also eating the same chicken/kimchi/veggies/shirataki/rice meal everyday. I got so tiiiired of the prepping and eating the same thing when i came home, i couldn’t do that anymore ! It’s been four-five years and i’m still feeling sick from the “idea” of being limited in what i can eat.
I got sick twice this month and i totally know it’s because my body’s weak from overworking myself with work/shop/work/commission/event, lack of sleep and not eating well enough. Well ! can’t go back in time ! This weekend i went to work feeling so bad and everybody could see how pathetic i was haha but they were all nice so it’s ok! glad i didn’t miss (*is poor*). Anyways, twice is too much u_u *big sigh* so i’ll be more careful in the future ! Can’t say i’ll eat well everyday but next shop opening or something, i’ll be sure to plan nutritious stuff in advance !
Because the problem here is mainly that i don’t wanna cook nor plan groceries :/ . Oh i still have an appetite, i don’t think i can get rid of it LOL it’s in my genes at this point to love food and love eating ! i just don’t feel like doing it anymore and i have a very convenient supermarket right round the corner of my street so °_° .. just picking what i feel like eating when i do even if it’s not a proper meal ! I’ve had a sandwich phase recently, i ate so many of the pre-made disgusting sandwiches TOT !!!!!!!! i don’t like ready-made stuff but boy was i eating these sandwiches !!! so convenient, didn’t take me any time ! I’ve grown tired of them thank goodness ...
I talked with a friend and coworker who’s pretty much going through the same and it’s nice to have someone else near who you can mention it to bc it can easily put you in a tight spot, ppl (and i include myself) are often quick to worry and thus chastise you for bad “habits”. I know it’s out of love but it’s tiring nonetheless. It’s nice to have someone understand it’s not a habit and that whatever you’re eating it’s ok, as long as you’re eating !!!!! That’s the 1st step and it’s great !
Something else is that i eat very differently from what i used to ! i still eat meat and fish but only cook fish from time to time. I only eat meat if i eat from a restaurant (or if i buy disgusting triangle sandwiches 🙄), i don’t wanna cook it anymore. Trying to stop eating it completely but i know it takes time and i do have a “weak” body. So all that to say that everything i’m used to cook (and i used to looove cooking for myself) well .. is kinda out of the party now huh... it’s not hard to make the same dishes without the meat though, but sometimes i’m really like :I ok .. something’s amiss but i don’t have like.. tofu in the fridge. ALSO i’m a lazy person ;9 and i don’t like inconveniences
also food is hella expensive.... bro..... the corpos... they’re out of control.......... the price of things in the stores .. °_° bro.. u ok ??? they really said “then, starve”
Also wanna mention i’m only able to think about this and actually putting in the work in gathering ingredients etc bc i’m not doing anything else. Like, this is the moment, it’s now or never ! I’m in a slow period with work so i’m just .. well doing nothing (RESTING!!!!) which allows me to actually try to cook ! Also mentioning that i’ve still been eating random stuff during that last few days of hunting and gathering HAHAHA (bread...bo-bun from the shop, apples, bananas, bro i can’t even remember what i ate on monday and tuesday ?????) so .. prepping’s great but let’s see if i actually take stuff out of the freezer and heat them ;9
une affaire... à suivre 😎
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i’m sorry but i’m just the biggest sucker for racer!harry whenever he protect her & when grey’s being the biggest mana boy🥺🥺 i love me a good mama’s boy moment🥰🥰 -🥐
No they are so adorable like I hate them bc of it 😞 so we’ll do one of each 🙏
“No, mama. I don’t wanna go to school.” Grey frowns, holding onto his mothers leg during drop off. Beau had already ran in once he saw his friends and left with a kiss on the cheek from his parents and a hug from his younger brother. “Go see your friends, sweetheart.” Grey starts to throw a fit, his tiny dinosaur back pack starts to slip from his shoulder while he whines and stomps his foot.
“No mama! No mama!” He yells, hiding his face in her thigh while she tries to encourage him to walk into the school. “I want to stay with you! No!” Harry decided to step in, prying the little boys arms away from his mothers leg. “Listen to your mama, you’re going to see her right after you get out of school in a couple hours. Let’s go see your friends.”
Y/n fell easy in the trap of Greys little puppy dog eyes and his cute round face that she just wants to squish and press kisses over. But she has an excuse- she’s a mum! “No, I think it’s okay if he stays home today. School can be draining even for him and if he’s saying he doesn’t want to go this bad then I’m not going to push it.”
Y/n holds her hand out for Grey and grabs his backpack to hand out to Harry. She pulls Grey onto her hip and walks back to the car. “We can get back into our pajamas once we’re home.” y/n reassured her son, buckling him in the car seat before Harry turns to talk to Poppy. “What are we going to do with your mama?” Harry asks, his hand rested on his chin. “You give the woman one glance and you get whatever you want.”
Y/n rolls her eyes before buckling herself in, slapping his arm. “I’m the say way with you, shush up and drive.”
Harry laughs loudly, slapping his thigh. “If that was true we would have about ten more babies.”
~~
“No, y’not going.” Harry murmurs into his girlfriends hair. His other racer friends had set up a little party for the team now that the season was over and they had done so well. Harry blew off the invite and decided that a quick flight back to his home in London would be better than a night out with his sloppy drunk and horny teammates. “Why not?! I thought we would have a good time, no? You had a great season and you deserve to party it up, lover.”
Harry sighs, pulling her in and tightly wraps his arms around her waist. “Yeah, but I don’t like the idea of my horny teammates drooling all over you. They are just a bunch of big headed losers who try and impress you with their expensive cars and tiny dicks.” Y/n laughs, rolling her eyes.
“So not even an hour? I’ll stay by your side the whole time?”
“No, not even and hour. I know how them boys are, honey. They are going to try and take you back to their cheap hotel room within five minutes. I’ve already booked the flight let’s just pack up and go, please.” She frowns, not that he mentions it staying home and celebrating was better than celebrating with a bunch of people she didn’t really know.
“Ugh, you’re so smart. Let’s just go home.” He laughs, smiling wide and picking her up only to throw her on the bed. “Let’s hit the road!”
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anartsyvoid · 3 years
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Quick drawing for you guys
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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years
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BABY MAMA
A/N: woke up and just knew i needed to write about dad Harry, bc lets be honest, he is my fav. this fic is perfectly fine as a oneshot, but if you'd like, it could be a sequel to Grammy Winner Husband and Baby Grammy, i wrote things to line up with them!
PAIRING: Husband!Harry / Dad!Harry x Reader
WORD COUNT: 2k
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The arena is blowing up, the fans are screaming from the top of their lungs and Harry is putting out a show just as good as the previous ones have been. He is blowing the stage up, singing, dancing, joking around with the fans, enjoying this time he gets to spend with the people who got him to this point in his life. He’ll never be not grateful for what he has, what he is experiencing, no matter how hard this life can get sometimes.
“Dallas, how are you feeling tonight?” he asks in the mic as he walks back to his water bottle to have a few sips. The crowd erupts, the screams almost burst his eardrums, but he just chuckles, easing his thirst with some water before he returns to the microphone stand.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” he teasingly asks, though the reaction is the same. Insane screaming. “Alright, let’s move this show on before you get bored,” he chuckles playfully, the band starts playing the next song and he is back at what he does the best. Performing.
Though not far from the arena, there’s someone who thinks there’s something he is even better at than performing. That person is you, and you’re one hundred percent sure Harry is best at being a father to your five months old son.
Owning the stage, putting out the utter best he can, Harry’s thoughts still wander away from the show he is supposed to be focusing on. He can’t help it, his instincts are just completely drawn to his baby in the hotel suit, dying to know how he is doing. Leaving for the show late afternoon was harder than usually, because baby Theo was having a fever and coughing quite badly. His heart was breaking that he couldn’t help his son, didn’t even know what could be done for such a tiny baby.
“Love, he’ll be alright, okay? The doctor is on the way, it’s gonna be fine,” you told him gently as he was cradling Theo to his naked chest, always so eager to be skin-to-skin with him. Harry kissed his soft little curls on top of his head before nodding, though you knew it was eating him away.
“Call me or Jeff if something happens, okay?” he told you, handing Theo over to you, who was finally asleep after fussing for hours.
“I will,” you nodded, but he cupped your face to make you look at him.
“Y/N, I mean it. I’ll come off the stage if—“
“You won’t come off the stage, Theo is gonna be fine, he just probably got a cold from the aircon at the greenroom in Denver. He’ll be here when you get back, okay?”
He knew this tone, this was your momma bear voice and he would never argue with you when you used it, so he just nodded, kissed you and then Theo’s chubby cheek before heading out.
Now as he is nearing the end of the show he can’t help but think about finally being back at the hotel with his wife and baby, though he won’t let it be seen how eager he is to get off the stage.
The last song passes, the whole arena blows up from the energy and he is throwing kisses everywhere as he heads off the stage, down the aisle that leads him backstage. As he puts on his mask he turns around one last time, throwing some more kisses around to his beloved fans before disappearing behind the curtains.
“Did she call?” he instantly asks Jeff instantly, who hands him his phone over, a text from you already waiting for him.
Doc just left, everything is fine, left some meds for bub. Love you Xx
Even though this is what you told him before too, he feels relieved that the doctor confirmed it, but he still can’t wait to see the two of you.
“Alright, get the car ready, I’m leaving in ten,” he tells Jeff.
“Got it,” he nods, not even daring to argue with him. He knows better than to stand between Harry and his baby.
His legs bounce nervously on his way back to the hotel and he jumps out of the car as if it was on fire, running inside in a rush. He swipes the keycard through the reader on the door and opens it quietly, scanning over the place for you and Theo and there you are, sitting in one of the armchairs with his sleeping son in your arms, your hand gently tapping on his bum. You must have just finished feeding him, because a rag is still thrown over your shoulder and your shirt is all wrinkled around your chest. Theo loves playing with the fabric while you breastfeeding him and Harry loves watching his tiny fingers grab onto it and massaging it aimlessly.
“Hey,” he breathes out, quietly pushing the door closed behind him before he walks over, kneeling in front of you. He kisses Theo’s forehead first, before pressing his lips to yours too. “How is bub feeling?”
“He is doing good. The doc gave him some meds for the fever and we have a syrup for the coughing. He said he’ll be fine in a few days,” you softly explain to him, nodding towards everything the doctor left you on the coffee table.
Harry grabs the bottles, inspecting them as if he knows anything about medicine and you can’t help but smile as he furrows his eyebrows, reading the packaging.
“Want to put him to bed?” you ask him, his head snapping up right away.
“Of course,” he nods eagerly. You both stand up and he carefully takes the little boy from your arms without waking him up. “Hey bubs, I missed you,” he coos at Theo and as you watch him sway with the sleeping baby, your heart could easily burst from just the sight of them.
You didn’t know what life would be like as a family of three. After Harry posted a picture of you with his Grammy award and your belly ready to pop, the whole world went crazy over the fact that Harry Styles is going to be a dad. Despite the buzz, you managed to stay hidden for the rest of your pregnancy and just three weeks after that post, Theodore Styles decided to come to the world. Harry cancelled everything for the first two months, it was just the three of you, showering in the joys of parenthood. You had all the ups and downs, but you wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Then tour got rescheduled and Harry was hesitant whether it was a good idea to go on the road with a five months old.
“Sarah and Mitch are coming too, she gave birth a week after me,” you reasoned when Harry was about to cancel the whole tour. It took you some time to convince him that it’s gonna be fine, though you knew he would be extra cautious with Theo.
Now as you see him gently sway his way to the bassinet next to your bed, knowing that he just performed to thousands of people and now he is here with you and your son, you wouldn’t change it to some peace at home. Besides, you’re convinced tour is gonna do good for Theo, make him get used to people around him, not just the two of you or the grandparents and aunts. During the first night in Vegas, he barely spent an hour in your arms, everyone wanted a piece of him and you gladly let them befriend him, especially because he loves meeting new people, just like his daddy.
As Harry lays him into the bassinet and stands next to it with a lovesick smile on his face, you sneak behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He smells so fresh, he surely had a quick shower before heading back to the hotel, but you’re already planning to seduce him to join you for a quick shower as well. He won’t say no.
“Watched a livestream for a bit, you were so good,” you hum, kissing his right shoulder blade and you don’t miss how he leans back against you. “Loved the shimmery outfit.”
“Yeah?” he chuckles softly. Reaching around, he pulls you forwards so he can wrap you in his arms, kissing your forehead gently. “I missed seeing you dance at the side,” he smirks at you and you don’t miss the reference to the old times.
On his first solo tour, when you weren’t even married yet he often caught you dancing like crazy at the side of the stage, it would always make him laugh mid-song and you loved hearing his giggles through the mic, so you often did it on purpose. A few nights ago in Vegas you did the same, but with Theo in your arms, a massive ear protector on his head so the noise didn’t hurt him. When Harry spotted you, he almost started crying, he mouthed I love youand then carried on with the show.
“I’ll be there soon,” you smile at him, cupping his face in your hands to pull him down for a kiss that’s more than just a peck. “Now, I need help with something,” you mumble against his lips.
“Anything, baby.”
“I need you to help me shower,” you tell him cheekily. He pulls back and stares down at you with a playful grin, his hands already wandering under your shirt.
“Oh, is that so?”
“Yeah, I need someone to wash my back and… maybe somewhere else,” you hum seductively and start pulling him towards the bathroom, peeking at Theo one last time, but he is sleeping so deep, the two of you can have some alone time.
“Alright, I could never deny anything from my favorite milf,” he grins, but you smack his chest with a gasp.
“Harry! I told you not to call me that!” you protest, the two of you walking into the bathroom not to bother the sleeping baby in the room. You start running the water right away so it can be nice and hot for you when you walk in.
“Why? You are a milf,” he smirks, so full of himself, already pulling his shirt over his head.
“Then you’re a dilf, just so you know.”
“Baby, my fans have been calling me that for years, even before Theo,” he chuckles softly.
“You were destined to be a dad,” you giggle, getting rid of your own clothes. “Hey, if Theo feels better tomorrow, we could maybe take a walk in that park we saw on the way here,” you suggest, but when no answer comes, you look at Harry and find him just standing there, fully naked, staring at you grinning widely. “What?” you ask, glancing down at your own naked body. Suddenly, you are way too aware of the weight you haven’t been able to lose after giving birth, the stretch marks on your waist and how you’re not at all freshly shaved. Just as you’d move your hands to cover yourself a bit, Harry grabs your wrists and stops you.
“You are so fucking gorgeous, baby,” he hums, dropping his head until his lips could reach yours.
“Stop being such a flirt,” you giggle, feeling your face heating up.
“It’s the truth! I have the prettiest baby mama and that’s a fact.”
He looks at you with so much love and adoration in those beautiful green eyes, it almost makes you cry, knowing that this man is your husband and you get to spend the rest of your life with him.
Wrapping your arms around his neck you kiss him hard, pulling him into the spacious walk in shower.
“Then come and get your baby mama wet,” you giggle against his lips, making him laugh with the ambiguous request as he shuts the glass door behind him, his lips hungrily kissing wherever he can reach and you’re pretty sure the hot water is not the only thing that’s steaming up the glass.
Thank you for reading! Please like/reblog if you enjoyed!
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