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#sorry for going off the rails in the tags. it will happen again
arom-com · 1 year
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Relapsed <- thinking about The Glory (Netflix) again
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angelltheninth · 8 months
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hello can i request a Honkai Star rail scneario where they accidentally grab you're chest, Characters: Dan Heng, Jing Yuan, Blade and Gepard.
Ah, the popular anime tropes hit again! I love them.
Pairing: Blade, Dan Heng, Gepard, Jing Yuan x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, very suggestive, kissing, accidental boob grab, groping, teasing, neck kissing, cuddling
A/N: Every time I see this happen in anime I get so much second hand embarrassment I groan and laugh so hard.
Blade swears that it was an accident... this time. All he wanted was to hug you from behind, he didn't anticipate you moving and his hands slipping over to your breasts. But now that they're there and you're already arching your back and pushing your ass against him maybe this is a good opportunity for a little more fun before you eat. Well, he's eating at least.
Dan Heng tries to stop you from going into the Archives, he knows you'll be a distraction, but in doing do he side steps too fast and pushes against your boobs. You're quick to turn away and call him a pervert. And really, he thinks you're distracting? He should look at his pants, now that is a distraction. One that you could help with if he says sorry.
Gepard was cuddling you from behind when his hands landed on your soft boobs. You both gasped because he usually doesn't get so bold in the morning. He still isn't. His hands squeeze once on instinct before he pushes away and falls off the bed, his legs still dangling off the edge. Laughter fills the room, followed by a sudden gasp as you start to pull his briefs down. His lower half is in a perfect position for you to ease the tension.
Jing Yuan grins when he just so happens to grab your boob when you hand him papers. It was an accident but a happy one. Heh, you're the one who moaned. And... sat in his lap. There's still work to be done but he will be a man and take responsibility for touching you like that first. If you could turn towards the door, he wants to kiss your neck a little, make grind on him until he's hard enough.
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breadbrobin · 4 months
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Hi idk if you’re taking reqs but I’ve been reading your posts about Luke Castellan a lot and I think I’m getting obsessed- So could you make a fic/shot about a Luke Castellan x daughter of Apollo reader where they’ve known each other since childhood and they’re kind of like frenemies (friends and/or enemies) and one day he ends up getting badly injured after a quest so she has to take care of him in the infirmary for a week, but ever since that happened he’s been trying to get injured just to go and see reader at the infirmary again?
Sorry if that wasn’t clear, and this is kinda inspired from another fic you made about Luke and daughter of Apollo:)
But if you ever make something like this I would really appreciate it if you tagged me!
two hearts
luke castellan x reader — percy jackson and the olympians
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[fem!daughter of apollo reader]
summary: (as above)
warnings: canon typical mentions of violence, kissing, flirting, a couple of swear words, blood, idiots to lovers a lil bit too (can you tell it’s my favourite thing)
word count: 3.5k
(hiiii hello hi!! sorry this took me so long to get out, but here it is!! thank you so much for the request i had a lot of fun with this one (3.5k words of fun apparently). hope you enjoy it!)
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if someone had told you luke castellan was going to be gone on a quest when you arrived at camp for the summer, you wouldn’t have spent the whole drive to camp preparing to deal with his annoying ass.
you hiked up half-blood hill and over the boundary, noticing the distinct tension in the atmosphere. something was off.
when luke hadn’t come to see you as you dropped your bags off in the apollo cabin, or when you stopped into the infirmary, or even when you walked past the hermes cabin, you were clued in that something was up.
“where’s luke?” you asked chiron curiously.
“he is on a quest, child. sent by his father,” he smiled down at you warmly. “do not worry about him.”
“i’m not worried,” you bit your lip. “just curious. that’s all.”
and that was that.
it was weirdly boring being at camp without luke’s constant snarky comments. ever since you’d both gotten to camp when you were younger, he’d been a persistent thorn in your side. maybe it was because you both were new around the same time, or because you didn’t like it when he hovered around the infirmary, poking his quick fingers into buckets of bandages and medications. whatever it was, he seemed to enjoy irritating you. and you apparently enjoyed it more than you thought.
monotonous days: breakfast, archery, infirmary, training, activities, dinner, bed.
sleepless nights: nightmares of quests and dragons and a bright white scar.
you sighed one night, waking up from yet another dream of flashes and brief images. your siblings were sleeping around you, a couple of them snoring, and you sat up.
the air on the porch was cooler that night, especially for summer time. you wrapped your sweatshirt a little tighter around yourself and leaned on the porch railing, peering out into the darkness. you just needed a minute, really. you sat down on a chair and relaxed.
you woke up abruptly.
at first, you were confused as to why.
then you saw the figure on the hill.
it was a camper. the hint of orange in the full-moon light told you that much. they were stumbling down—no, they were rolling now.
you stood up and dashed back into your cabin, grabbing your to-go first aid kit. you then turned and ran towards the obviously injured figure. there were only three people it could be. and where were the other two?
you reached them quickly, dropping to your knees beside them and rolling them over.
luke.
it was luke.
the air rushed from your lungs. he was here. he was back. he was alive. you’d never felt such an overwhelming emotion before. it drew slight stinging tears to your eyes.
his eyes were barely open but he gripped your arm with a strength you didn’t think his weak body could still possess. “y/n?”
“just hold on, luke,” you whispered. there were injuries all over his body. you hardly knew where to start. “just hold on.”
“they’re gone,” he said absently.
you looked at him, but didn’t stop trying to help. “who’s gone?”
“everyone,” he stared up at the moon.
you bit your cheek and looked over your shoulder. one of your brothers had gone on that quest with him. “wake up!” you shouted. “someone come help!” you turned back to luke. “okay, luke. you’re gonna be okay.”
his cheeks were hollow. it was then that you noticed the way his eye was swollen closed and a dark red angry cut traced its way down the side of his face. you gasped and turned his head gently to see it better.
“not looking good, huh?” he murmured bitterly. “guess i won’t be getting any modelling contracts soon.”
“we’ll see about that,” you muttered. “stay awake, yeah?”
“you’re not the boss of me,” he grumbled, but kept his eyes open as help finally arrived to get him to the infirmary.
he’d had more injuries than you’d originally thought. it was like he’d been attacked by half of the monsters in greek mythology, honestly, based on the peppered burn holes in his shirt, the cuts and scrapes on his arms and knees and the gashes littering his abdomen. oh, and not to mention the gaping spear wound in his right shoulder.
after working all night with some of your siblings and chiron in the infirmary, he was finally stable. finally, he’d be okay.
you volunteered to stay with him to keep an eye on him for the first few hours, though your eyelids were drooping with sleep.
you held his hand. it felt like the right thing to do.
he didn’t stir.
it was strange, being around him without him talking. since you were fourteen, he’d rarely managed to shut up around you. incessant talking and waving his hands around, explaining some new thing he learned in sword fighting or some joke one of his brothers made. it was both infuriating and entertaining. you loved and hated it, just like you loved and hated him.
sitting in silence with luke castellan felt like the world was turning on its head.
a couple of hours passed. you didn’t let go of his hand. not even as you slipped into a dream—a memory, really.
you were fifteen, and it was raining. it had only been a few months since you got to camp. things were still fresh and somewhat unknown. what you did know, though, was you could never get a moments peace anymore.
“y/n?”
you rolled your eyes. of course it was luke. “what?”
“where are you?”
you supposed you were hidden pretty well. sitting among the reeds at the bottom of the lake was one of your favourite places to be. it was cooler there, but even in winter it wasn’t cold. your feet could sit in the water if you wanted them to and the reeds blocked you from the wind and outside attention.
when you didn’t respond, you could hear him coming closer anyway.
“that’s fine, don’t tell me. i’ll find you anyway.”
and he did. he always did.
there was some theory about that, you realised as he sat beside you, the tiny space between the reeds barely big enough to hold both of you. some theory about a string of fate tying people together. some greek myth about people originally having four arms, four legs and two hearts, and when zeus split them down the middle, those people spent the rest of their lives searching for their other halves. drawn together by fate and reconnected always. you arm was pressed against his arm and your leg against his leg, and maybe it felt so right because you were cold and he was warm. not because of some silly soulmate theory that didn’t even make sense. because there was also the idea that maybe he’d put a tracker on you, but you had no idea where he would have gotten that. or maybe you were just bad at hiding.
“i’ve been looking for you,” he said.
you tilted your head in confusion. “what? why?”
“well,” were you mistaken, or were his cheeks kind of red? “i kinda hurt myself at training today. and the people in the infirmary told me to grow up and get over it. but honestly, it really hurts and i just wanted to know if you could heal it.”
you rolled your eyes. “always needing something, huh, castellan? is it so much to ask for you to just want to see me?” you hold your hand out and he extends his sword arm, revealing the cross-muscle cut on his forearm.
“i do want to see you,” he protested. “honestly. it’s not my fault that i’m also coincidentally injured whenever i want to see you.”
you couldn’t stay mad at that smile. “coincidentally, huh?” you handed him a small section of ambrosia from your pocket as your fingers ran over the cut, whispering a prayer to your father. you watched as the skin knit itself closed again, leaving not even a scar on his arm. you pulled back with a smile. “there. done. good as new.”
“thanks, doctor. don’t know what i’d do without you.”
“die a horrible death and be left permanently disfigured? to the point where we’d do a closed casket funeral just so we don’t have to look at your ugly face?” you tilted your head with a teasing smile.
he elbowed you. “shut up, loser. you know you love my face.”
and as you woke up, feeling his hand tighten around yours, you realised you kind of did. there was gauze over the cut on his eye and cheek, covering half of his face. and yet, he was still annoyingly beautiful.
“something on my face?” he mumbled as he saw looking, finally awake. “except for this thing, of course.” he gestured to the gauze.
you smiled wanly. “i’m glad you’re awake.”
“missed me?” he half-grinned.
you snort and drop his hand, patting the back of it and standing up to check his bandages. “you wish.”
he was silent as you checked his bandages and reapplied the few that were loosening. then, as you left to go and get the next person to keep an eye on him, he spoke up. “i missed you.”
you paused in the doorway, a small smile growing on your face. you looked back at him. his eyes were earnest and soft. he looked younger like this. “i’ll be back a few hours. we’ll have dinner together.”
you did have dinner together. in fact, you had almost every meal together for the first few days.
it was quiet, mostly. you didn’t ask him what happened and he didn’t tell you. you knew he’d already been interrogated by everyone else. he didn’t need that from you.
annabeth came and joined you a couple of times, chatting about some new architectural design she’d learned about or a new move she’d learned in training.
you realised how alike they were. family in every way that mattered, regardless of blood.
it didn’t take long for luke to start getting annoying again though.
once he’d been in the infirmary for four days, he regained most of his usual personality. and that meant bad jokes, incessant talking and poorly-timed, half-hearted flirting.
“the sun makes your eyes glow,” he said one day. he’d never had much of a filter, so it wasn’t too out of the blue, but it still caught you a little of guard.
you fumbled the supplies in your hand. “sorry, what?”
he was sitting up on his bed now. his wounds were almost healed. two more days and he’d be out of the infirmary. you didn’t know if you were one hundred per cent happy about that.
“your eyes. they glow in the sun.” he repeated.
you paused, glancing over at him. “thank you…?”
he nodded and leaned back, his eyes staying on you.
that was only the beginning.
within five hours he’d complimented your eyes, your skills, your smile and your kindness. multiple times. it got the point where the other two patients in the infirmary had stopped taking you seriously, just complimenting you instead. that’s where you drew the line.
“okay, luke, you need to stop. this is too much,” you said. you were checking his remaining wounds and nodding happily at them.
“what, am i flustering you? are you blushing?” he teased.
you were not blushing at all, you decided. whether it was strictly true or not was between your brain and your cheeks, not your honesty. “you’re annoying me,” you grumbled. “like, a lot.”
“you know you’ll miss me when i go back to my cabin,” he leaned back on his pillows, a smirk on his lips. it warped the scar on his cheek more than you expected, and it made your heart clench every time.
“if i miss you, you have permission to annoy me for the rest of my life,” you grumbled. you definitely wouldn’t miss this.
finally, he was out of the infirmary.
finally, you could work in peace.
finally, you could— oh, what the hell?
“good morning!” luke said as he waltzed into the infirmary. “i’ve injured myself.”
you looked him up and down as you walked closer. “you look fine to me. what did you do?”
“i fell of the rock climbing wall and hit my head.” he turned his head to show you the small trickle of blood above his ear.
you sighed and led him to a bed. you handed him ambrosia as you used a wet cloth to clean his head. “you were meant to take things easy for the first few days.”
“i did!” he protested. “i was only like, twelve feet up!”
you pursed your lips and shook your head. your hand was under his chin now, stopping him from turning his head to look at you. “taking it easy means no rock climbing at all, dumbass. you’ve been out of here for half a day and you’re already back!”
“maybe i like it in here.” he shrugged, pouting slightly, looking up at you.
“maybe i find you really annoying and ban you from coming in here,” you countered.
“you can’t do that,” he gasped.
“watch me, castellan.” you prodded his cheek mockingly. “don’t mess with me.”
his smile wasn’t exactly the response you were looking for, but you found that you didn’t mind it all too much.
luke came into the infirmary almost every two days for the next two weeks.
there was always some new injury that he couldn’t ignore, that he needed to have you heal. he only came in when you were there though, like he knew your schedule off by heart.
he probably did.
his sheepish smile was becoming a fixture of your days and you couldn’t help but smile a little brighter when you saw it. you couldn’t stop your heart from beating a little faster either, and it was annoying.
in the years that you’d been at camp, luke castellan had driven you up the wall. did you hate him? did you love him? how did you love him? how a friend loves a friend? how a doctor loves a patient? how a lover loves a lover? how did you hate him? why? why anything? why nothing? the questions only got worse.
“another minor injury?” you sighed, hearing his footsteps entering the infirmary. you didn’t know when you memorised the sound of his footsteps, or the rise and fall of his breathing while he slept, but you did.
“uh, not exactly…” the weakness in his voice made your stomach drop.
you turned around to see him clutching a bright red wound on his inner arm. he looked pale. that wasn’t a good sign. the blood was still seeping past his fingers. also not a good sign.
you gasped and pulled him to a bed immediately, pushing him to lie down and placing hard pressure on the wound. you could feel him reaching into your pocket and fishing around for ambrosia. once he found some, he ate it quickly and sighed in relief.
“what the hell happened?” you exclaimed.
he shrugged with one shoulder. “sword training.”
“were you training against the fucking terminator?” you took in the other minor cuts and bruises. your voice was unfairly shaky. you didn’t want to get close to losing him again. even just the thought made you feel sick.
his eyes were soft when they looked up at you. you almost dropped all of your anger right there. “i got sloppy,” he said nonchalantly. “i’ll be fine once i get back to normal.”
“this is an artery,” you said. “you could die.”
he didn’t look all that upset or shocked. “i won’t die, baby. i won’t.”
your stomach gave a pitiful lurch at the nickname. “save your energy.”
“is that your doctorly way of telling me to shut up?” he teased.
“yes, it is,” you nodded. “now, shut up while i help you.”
he looked at you like you were hanging the stars in the sky, not tending to him with hands red from his blood.
no one had stopped talking about luke since he got back. the first failed quest in years, with two of the three members dying and the third one permanently scarred by a dragon. not a good ratio.
you often saw luke sitting alone now, and when he was nowhere to be found, you knew where he was.
maybe there was something to the strings of fate theory, you thought as you found him and sat down beside him among the reeds. they were taller now and more dense, but the two of you had carved out a little spot for yourselves over time. your limbs were still pressed against each other though. that was one thing that would never change.
he was turning something over in his hands. a repetitive motion.
you tried to make sense of what it was, but couldn’t.
“it’s a dragon claw,” he spoke up. “the one that did this.” he pointed at the still-red scar on his face. that was why you couldn’t get rid of that one. magic scars never really went away.
you stayed quiet.
“peter distracted the dragon just in time for me to get my sword back. i got the cut, but when i turned back he was getting thrown against the mountainside.” he shook his head bitterly. “he didn’t stand a chance.”
you stared at a dragonfly on a reed in front of you. “knowing my brother, he just would have been happy to be there. and happy that you’re alive.”
he smiled, but it looked forced and bitter. “yeah. he spent the whole time talking about how lucky we were for this opportunity, and how he was so excited to explore beyond camp… and gianna was the same. they were just…” he was fiddling with his camp beads now.
you watched his movements slowly. it was like he’d never been gone, but also like everything had changed. there was a new tension in the air around him. you weren’t sure if it was you or him.
“don’t be resentful,” you said softly, breaking the silence.
“what?” his eyes turned to you. “what do you mean?”
“don’t resent yourself and the gods for this,” you said, leaning a little closer to him and looking away. the dragonfly hadn’t moved—like it was listening. watching. “peter and gianna made their choices. they’re in elysium now. that’s about as good as it gets.”
he pressed his lips together and nodded. “i know.”
maybe there was something to the two hearts theory too, because you could tell he didn’t. he didn’t agree. he didn’t want to. you slipped your hand into his. “you know i’m always here for you, right, luke? i mean, you annoy me—a lot—but you’re still, well, you. and you’re important to me. i’ll always be there for you. if you want to hold hate in your heart, then be my guest. i’ll just have to hold more love in mine to balance you out.”
he was watching your connected fingers as you spoke. his hands were calloused and hard, but yours were softer. less time spent training and more time spent healing. “love for who?”
you, you thought. you didn’t speak.
he turned to look at you. you were already looking at him. “love for me?”
you swallowed tightly. “luke…”
he leaned in closer, until his lips were moments away from touching yours. one wrong move and you’d touch. or was that the right move? was the wrong move pulling away? leaving him alone—again? that didn’t feel fair. but nor did your pounding heart and your flushing cheeks, and maybe you were blushing now, but that didn’t mean you had to like it.
then you gave in. that string that connected your souls was pulling you too tight. your lips brushed against his softly at first, and before you could think to move any further, his hand was gripping the back of your neck and pulling you closer, and his lips were pressing against yours with the passion of years of built up tension. you’d never hated him at all, you realised. you loved him the whole time. sure, he was irritating. he was chatty. he was pushy and annoying and never stopped bothering you. but you’d missed his bothering, and you’d missed his smile, and when he pulled away to take a breath, you missed his lips with a fiery need that bubbled up from deep down inside you.
“guess i’ll be annoying you for the rest of our lives then, huh?” he said softly, chest rising and falling against yours.
your eyes were still closed, reeling from the kiss. “wasn’t that a given anyway? i wouldn’t want it any other way, personally.”
when he kissed you again, you decided that the theory about two hearts was, in fact, correct. you met as two, seperate halves in a fucked up world that had you grow up far too fast. you grew as two, finding your places at camp, finding your people, but always finding each other first. you met now as one. four arms, four legs, two hearts, meeting in a tumultuous display of love and desire. and that’s how you wanted to stay. your limbs locked with his, your hearts pounding in sync, your every feeling, every emotion, every sensation making your very soul hum with joy. you’d found him, finally, after years of your hearts waiting for this moment. finally, your two hearts were one again.
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solarsturniolo · 3 months
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Nothing // M.S.
by Natalie 💋
summary: Inspired by the song Nothing by the Script
tags: @flowerxbunnie @mattslolita @mattsbratt @oversturn @simplysturn @soursturniolo @megamett44-lover @sturnybabes @jjmaybankswifes-blog @plasticferal @cupidsword @liz-stxrn @sturniolosreads @sturnioloskies @bernardsleftbootycheek @egirlshit @matthemunch44
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warnings: lowkey kinda heart wrenching / drinking / borderline addiction / swearing / toxic??
DISCLAIMER: This story is fictional! I am aware that the triplets are sober. This is a little thing I like to call 'story telling'.
text - reader
text - matt sturniolo
Word Count: 1739
So I stumble there, along the railings and the fences
I know if I faced her face, that she'll come to her senses
Every drunk step I take leads me to her door
If she sees how much I'm hurting, she'll take me back for sure
“Please be up. Please be up.”
“...mmph…Hello?” 
“...H-Hi.” 
“What is it?”
“...C-Can I come over?”
A heavy sigh. “No, Matt-”
“Please,” he interrupted her, afraid that if he didn’t she would hang up. “I miss you.”
“How much have you had to drink tonight?”
“I haven’t-”
“Goodnight, Matthew.”
“Fuck- fine, six,” he mumbled, sniffling sharply and rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. “I had six-”
“Six what, Matthew?”
“I…I-” he paused, sniffling again. “I miss you, can I come see you?” 
“No, Matthew.”
“Stop it,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “Stop calling me that, you never call me that.”
“You need to get some rest. I’m calling Nick-”
“No, d-don’t go. Please.”
“Matt, you’re not taking care of yourself.”
“I just need to see you again,” he stated, sniffling again. “Please, I…I’ll leave you alone if you let me see you one more time.”
Another sigh. “How do you plan on getting here.”
“I’ll dr-”
“No you will not.”
His heart leaped. She still cares. She doesn’t want anything to happen to me. There’s still hope. “Uber?”
“Where are you right now.” 
He looked around. “Outside.”
“Is there anything around you?”
“Trees?”
“Where are Nick and Chris.”
“Insid-”
“You make my blood boil,” she groaned. 
“I’m sorry,” he hiccuped. “I miss you. I-I love you.”
“Stop.”
He sniffled again, a chill running through his body. He pulled his thin jacket tighter to his body. “Can I come see you?”
“Matthew, where are you.”
“I c-can get an uber, or I can walk. I don’t mind walking-” he whispered, his voice breaking again. He sniffled. “Please, I need you. I need to see you and hear you and..and feel you.”
“Matt, are you safe? Where are you. I need you to answer my questions.”
“I’m at home,” he mumbled. 
“Where.”
“The driveway.”
“I will send you an uber, but this is the last time.”
Click.
___________
The knock at the door startled her, despite anticipating it at any moment. She got up from her spot on the couch, making a beeline for the door. She opened it and in stumbled a drunken Matt, who dropped to his knees in front of her, wrapping his arms gently around her thighs. He rested his cheek on the plush of her thigh. 
She couldn’t bring herself to look at him. She would give in if she did. She could hear his soft sniffling and the sound of his lips leaving soft kisses to her thigh. “I’m s-sorry, please look at me. Please say something.”
“You can’t keep doing this, Matt. You have to let me go.”
He sniffled again. She felt the warm dampness of his tears on her skin. “I c-can’t.”
“You have to.”
“Please don’t make me,” he sobbed. She finally looked down at him, her heart aching at the sight of him clung to her legs, completely broken. “I need you, I can’t-”
“You need to find a way,” she insisted, reaching behind her to take Matt’s hands out of their interlocked state. He refused, holding her tighter. “Matt, you need to let me go.”
“You’re all I have,” he hiccuped, looking up at her with watery bloodshot eyes. His lip quivered, a tear rolled down his cheek. “I-I have nothing without you,” his voice croaked. 
She sighed, sinking down onto the floor. She gently stroked his cheek, wiping the tears off of his face with her free hand. “Why do you do this to yourself?”
He sniffled. “I don’t want you to go, p-please,” he begged her. “Don’t leave me.”
“You know I can’t stay with you,” she whispered to him. “You do this to yourself every night. I’m so worried about you, Nick and Chris are worried about you.”
He looked at her, his face blotchy and red from crying. His eyes were even bluer than normal. “Y-You are?” he asked, leaning into her touch as she held his cheek. 
“Matt, everyone’s worried about you,” she replied. “You have so many people that care about you, why are you torturing yourself like this? It kills me seeing you like this.” She brushed his messy hair out of his face, looking into his glossy eyes. 
“Please- one more chance,” he pleaded, moving in close to her. He rested his forehead against hers, their noses gently brushing together. “One more…I can’t lose you. You’re the only person in this world that I want,” he continued. 
“Matt…”
“You’re the only girl I want to wake up next to,” he whispered, his hand coming up to gently cup her cheek, his thumb delicately tracing her chin. His lips ghosted over hers. She could smell the alcohol on his breath. “You’re the only girl I wanna take out and show off, you’re the only girl I want to lay next to at night. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before,” he whispered, tears rolling down his cheeks. “I…I’m so fucking scared. I’ve never been this vulnerable and open with another person before,” a soft sob fell from his lips. He bumped his nose gently against hers, their lips grazing. “Tell me you don’t love me, and I’ll go away,” he stated.
“Matt-”
“Say it. I’ll never bother you again, I’ll never call or…or show up uninvited again. But you have to say it,” he whimpered, his eyes opening to look into hers. His free hand cupped her other cheek. “Please look at me,” he pleaded.
She pursed her lips, opening her eyes as well to look at him. As soon as she looked into his deep blue eyes, she felt herself melting. Matt’s gaze softened, noticing her more relaxed state. He leaned in to close the gap between them, only stopping when he felt her cold fingers touch his lips. 
“You have to let me go, Matt,” she whispered again.
His lip quivered, a whimper getting caught in his throat, tears threatening to spill once again. “Say you don’t love me,” he repeated.
She stayed silent once again. She couldn’t say it. She knew deep down that she loved him, and that a part of her always would love him. 
“I can get better, I can be better,” he continued, looking down at her with tearful eyes. “All I want is to be better for you-”
“You can’t go a single night without drinking yourself dumb,” she stopped him. “You can’t change, Matt. You’ve had the opportunities-”
Matt shook his head in disbelief. “Please, I-I know I can change-”
“You can’t.”
She went to stand back up, her heart shattering as he clung to her for dear life. “N-No, please,” he hiccuped, his fingers digging into her clothed hips. “Please,” he sobbed, looking up at her with his glassy blue eyes, his pupils blown out and bloodshot. “Don’t…Don’t push me away. Don’t push me out,” he whimpered. 
She stood her ground, refusing to look down at his pathetic state. She refused to touch him, knowing if she did, she wouldn’t be able to let go of him. “I’m calling Nick.”
“I’m begging you-”
“I can’t let you stay again. I can’t keep letting you hurt me.”
Matt’s lips parted in disbelief, a stray tear rolling down his cheek and falling from his chin. “Hurt you?” His eyes glossed over with pain, one that he had never known before. “H-How…What do you mean?”
She pursed her lips, her eyes closing as she tried to think of the best way to word what she wanted to say. “You always do this, Matt. You come over, you do this every time. I always give in because-” a pause interrupted her sentence, her questioning if she should say it out loud or keep it a distant shout in the back of her head. “Because I love you, and…I can’t not love you.”
A glimmer of hope replaced the sorrow in his eyes. “I never stopped loving you,” he spoke, his voice wavering, his nerves shot from the lack of control he had over himself in this moment. He rose to his feet gracelessly. His hand felt cold as it touched her cheek, though the gentle caress of his fingers on her skin made her melt. “You’re all I’ve ever wanted. Let me show you, let me prove it to you.” He watched her face, examining any little change in her expression. Please don’t let me go. Please don’t push me away. 
“I can’t go through this again, Matt,” she whispered, leaning into his touch. “You have to promise me-”
“I promise, I promise. Fuck, I swear on my life,” he enveloped her in his arms. “I promise,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her head. He felt her arms snake around his waist, hugging him back, and he nearly collapsed as relief flooded his body. “I love you so much,” he mumbled softly into her hair, kissing her head again. 
“We have to start slow,” she spoke softly, setting her boundaries. “I can’t jump right back in like none of this ever happened-”
“I know,” he replied. “I know, that’s fine, I’ll wait forever if I have to.”
“You’ve sobered up quite a bit,” she sniffled softly, and it was only then that Matt released his embrace, pulling away to look down at her. She looked up at him, smiling softly as a tear rolled down her cheek, glimmering in the moonlight. 
His thumb brushed across her cheek, wiping the tear from her face. “Why are you crying?”
“I missed you, Matt,” she replied. It felt like a stake being driven into his heart, it stung. All of those nights of him wallowing in his own self pity, wasting away his potential, all of those nights thinking she loathed him, thinking he would never be able to feel happy again; It was all in his head. None of it was real. She never felt that way about him. She waited for him, she loved him through his mistakes, through his flaws, through his lowest moments. Nobody had ever been so loyal to him before, apart from his family. Nobody had ever waited to catch him when he fell. 
“I missed you too.” More than you could ever know.
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httpsclarye · 7 months
Text
#NOTHING SERIOUS+!
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You had no idea why you were so concerned about whether or not your relationship with Zoro was serious. You both were certainly merely supporting each other, especially in the midst of the ocean, where people crave tenderness. Until he shows how seriously he considers you.
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Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader
Word count: 2.5k
Warnings/tags: 18+ content, reader is a overthinker, sanji as best friend, swearing, (kinda) idiots in love, there’s some talking about relationships, eventual smut, like in the end, don’t expect too much, oral sex (f receiving), face-fucking, face-sitting.
Ao3: Nothing Serious
English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes :) Enjoy!
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“You'll see him tonight.”
You inhaled the cigarette smoke till your lungs burned. It wasn't the first, second, or third time Sanji had brought up the matter; you were tired. Leaning against the rail of the ship, smoke encircled the two of you.
“I have no idea what you're talking about.” You took another inhalation before giving the blonde's cigarette back. “Anyway, it's nothing serious, whatever you're thinking, I assure you.”
He snorted, and you could see he wasn't buying what you were saying. After years of working together at Baratie, Sanji was able to read you like a book. “Oh, please, darling, I believe that at this point only Luffy is unaware of what is happening between you two.”
“Again, it's nothing serious. He's only a friend.”
“No, darling, I'm your friend; Nami is your friend; he's…” He dropped the rest of his cigarette in the sea and began to head to the kitchen to prepare dinner, yet not before lingering at the door to give you a sidelong glance. “Zoro is a very complicated person, I'm just saying. I think he has something going on in his moss head. If you happen to want to keep doing this, be careful.”
You continue to wander the deck of the ship while mulling over the conversation until the sun eventually sets and darkness falls. It was nothing serious. Zoro was really easy to be around; there were no challenges when you were around him. He was additionally very hot. Nothing that had been going on between you two had anything to do with the fact that whenever you felt that your pirate life was getting to be too much, you would always flee to his embrace in the dead of night. Especially in the midst of the ocean, people crave tenderness. Zoro was simply there to help you. Nothing serious.
However, once the two of you have had enough sex, he embraces you and plays with your hair until you nod off. Or how he always tries his hardest to make sure you enjoy yourself as much as he does, despite his issues with feeling vulnerable when you're topping. Or how he took a mattress so sex wouldn't be uncomfortable on the hard ground or leaning against a wall.
"Fucking Sanji, what does he have to do with what I do?" You murmured to yourself as you walked into the dimly lit kitchen, which was already packed with the crew dining at the table and savoring the food the blonde had prepared.
Dinner went quickly, and you just engaged in the conversations surrounding the upcoming supply gathering. Zoro's gaze tracked your movements, and you couldn't help but blush when you caught his attention in you. It was foolish, and even he looked puzzled by your behavior.
“If you'll excuse me, I need to wash the dishes to avoid a buildup.” You swiftly rose out of your chair as you began to pick up the dirty plates from the table. “Sanji, come with me.”
You were furiously scrubbing the plates when Sanji caught up with you at the sink and lit a cigarette “What's going on?”
You didn't know exactly what was going on. Outside of the nocturnal meetings, your relationship with Zoro was always easygoing; neither of you ever brought up your activities nor anything odd that might have addressed it. “It’s nothing serious, right? We're pirates, after all, so it makes sense that we would sleep with each other. He may have another female on a random island.”
If not for the fact that he had no random girls lying around, he had casually revealed to you that you were the only person he had slept with in the past few months. Why had he told you this?
“I don’t know what exactly you want me to say, love.”
“This is all your fault; I would have been perfectly normal if you hadn't started off with the idea of being serious or not.”
Sanji gave you a bored face, as he didn't seem stunned by anything. He snorted as he peered over your shoulder at the crew's still-occupied table. “Talk to him.”
You mumbled something indecipherable, hoping to put an end to the conversation. You didn't want to tell Zoro your thoughts because it might make everything too genuine, too real. Also, you couldn't help thinking that he may taunt you and assure you that what you two are doing is simply a casual fuck.
Even if you begged the gods for time to move more slowly, or even if you stood by in the kitchen a little longer to help the blonde clean the counters, you knew that eventually you would have to face Zoro.
As you walked down the stairs to the storage room, you limited yourself to positive thoughts; perhaps he won't notice your odd behavior; maybe he won't even give you a chance to speak before he picks you up by the hips, tosses you onto the mattress, and then takes you in such a way that you'll have to stifle your moans.
“Hey.” He was undoubtedly waiting for you for some time, as he was sitting on the mattress without his shirt on. You wondered how much time you spent helping Sanji in the kitchen. “C’mon here.”
Without looking him in the eyes, you untied your bra, dropped your shirt while approaching him, and just kneeled low enough to straddle his thighs. “Guess someone had been waiting for me."
“You look... so... pretty.” You moaned as one of Zoro's hands reached and pinched one of your nipples. “So perfect, only for me.”
He begins kissing and pinching the skin on your neck and jaw while stroking your breasts, yet your attention doesn't turn to the sensations in your body. For the thousandth time since your previous talk, you ponder whether he viewed you as special, whether or not he did what he does with you with others, if he engaged them in conversation about their insecurities, if he also talked about his childhood, if he also...
“What are you thinking?”
You emerged from your thoughts and let out a sigh as you regretted having come to see him with those thoughts in your head. You should have gone directly to your room and trusted that he would get the message. In short, you shouldn't have shown up.
“Could you just fuck me, please? I'm not in the best mood, Zoro.”
“No, I won’t fuck you when you’re barely here.” He threw out a sigh of annoyance at the situation at hand. ”Just tell me what's going on; you've been acting oddly since dinner.”
“Are we serious?”
The green-haired one grew silent and turned to face the wall behind you. As the room fell quiet, you tensed in his lap and started getting ready to get up and leave when he grabbed your hips roughly.
“I told you that I wasn't seeing anyone.” You could see a hint of color on Zoro's cheeks, as he was reluctant to look into your eyes. “I thought that meant quite the deal.”
“Oh. Oh. Are you for real? I didn’t realize this meant that.”
The realization made you feel embarrassed. It was so simple, yet you had been thinking about this particular comment of his for days. Of course, the careless manner in which he talked affected your understanding, but it was so fucking obvious.
“Y/N, I like you. But I don’t do this bullshit of boyfriend and girlfriend,it’s too... childish.” When he turned to face you, the inside of your chest started getting warm. “So, I really enjoy you. If you want to go tell Nami or the waiter that we are more than crewmates, sure, no problem, whatever.”
There was nothing you could say to express your delight other than a soft kiss, so you gave him that. You knew it wasn't a declaration of love; it's very likely that you weren't at that point in the relationship, but it was something.
“Just don't expect me to brag, kiss you on the deck or do anything cliche. You know that I am not like that.”
“Yeah, I know that.” Your lips curled into a faint smile. “I kind of like the private thing we have right here.’’
“Well, then, can we continue what we were doing? I mean, no offense, but it's difficult to pay attention with your boobs that close.”
You had barely finished nodding when his lips crashed into yours. He began nipping and sucking your lower lip between his teeth before sliding his tongue inside your mouth. His hands went right to your breast, and you whimpered when he lightly pinched your left nipple.
“Oh, Y/N…” Zoro mumbled, his pupils expanded, and his eyes grew dimmer. “I want you to sit on my face.”
“W-what? Why?”
Several times throughout your six or seven months with Zoro, he found himself between your legs. Receiving orals has never been an issue for you; in fact, he might actually like giving you orals due to how you wriggle under him.
But no, not in the way that he was requesting. The green-haired man was always reluctant when you were keen on riding his dick or being in any other position where he was at the bottom and “vulnerable”. Even though he never said it verbally, you could tell by the way he always tensed.
“What do you mean why, I want to eat you puss-“
“No, I know that.” You cut him off; it seemed odd that he wanted to do the position right then; you didn't want him to perform the deed out of a moral duty or anything similar. “Just, you know, you don't enjoy it when I'm topping.”
“Y/N… It's not that I don't enjoy it'” He cocked his head to the side while offering you kisses and hickeys in your neck. “Normally, I don't feel at ease. You, though, are the exception, and I want to make you feel good.”
You stopped straddling him to get off the mattress and take off the rest of your clothes. You felt his eyes watch you until you heard a noise that was obviously his body lying down completely on the mattress. Nervousness rose in your body as you returned to your starting position on his lap.
“It's alright, babe, come on up.” You were taken aback by Zoro's unexpected pet name—he never used that kind of thing—as his hands got to your waist.
He helped you climb up his body to his head, where you found yourself sitting on top of the green-haired face. But fuck, you dismissed all your anxieties the moment you felt his hot breath travel down your center.
He helped you climb up his body to his head, where you found yourself sitting on top of the green-haired face. But fuck, you dismissed all your anxieties the moment you felt his hot breath travel down your center.
“So wet for me.” You feel a rush of pleasure as you hear his breathy voice. “C’mon let me taste you”
He pushes you down by placing his hands on the inner sides of your thighs. Your folds are immediately warmed by Zoro's exploratory mouth heat. You whimpered as he ran his tongue over the length of your pussy, up and down, just to get a fickle at your clit and amplify your screams.
Zoro toys with the bundle of nerves with his teeth as he slides his tongue into you slowly. He knows exactly how to get you immediately over the edge. At first, the sensation is odd, yet gradually it causes your eyes to roll back in ecstasy. He is skilled at fucking you in every way possible.
“Y/N, I-” He stopped moving his head and breathed heavily into your core, “Ride me.”
The waves of pleasure pulsing through you nearly caused you to ask him to repeat what he had just said. If it weren't for Zoro's hands reaching to your ass and guiding you to move against his face, the lack of expertise probably would paralyzed you.
So you did ride him. You initially felt a little ashamed of the newly acquired control you had until you reached the ideal angle where his tongue pierced you and their teeth scraped your clit as you rocked back and forth.
“Oh, fuck Zoro, fuck..”
The green-haired man's hands were groping you blindly, squeezing your thigh and ass so thougly that it would probably have marks in the morning. You were drawn closer to his face as a result of his claws piercing right through the flesh.
You flung back your head as pleasure overtook you. Grabbing Zoro's hair with both hands and moving his face to find more friction, already too out of it to care what he felt.
You feel a rush of vibrations go through you as he moans into your core, and you just know that you’re close. Your walls clenched around Zoro's tongue as you rocked faster against his face.
“I-I’m so close”
You cum with a muffled scream of the green-haired man's name, and he continues fucking you through your orgasm, your body already getting tired from the overstimulation.
You're not sure how you got out of the position, but when you open your eyes, you're lying next to him, still gasping for air. You feel something shifting towards you, and when you look, Zoro is looking directly at your state.
“Are you alright?”
“No, I should be the one asking you that. Fuck, that was good”
He licks his juicy lips with his eyes half-open, completely pussy drunk. You suppose you should have an odd expression because he laughs, and you think you could hear that sound for the rest of your life.
You look away and end up coming into line of sight with his crotch, completely marked by his hard cock, which must be hurting at the time. You bring your hands to the waistband of his pants, but he stops you.
“No. Today was for you, only for you.” His tone is solemn, and you lack the strength to disagree or try to persuade him.
So you lie there next to each other, your body aching from the circumstances, but your mind is completely clear. You did not want to leave; you wanted to remain there forever, but you know it's past midnight and you both need to go to your rooms.
He gets up first. He's awkward and trying to hide his erection, despite the fact that you are already aware of it. “I need to go; you know, this mattress is not that comfortable…”
“Yeah, me too. I’m going in one minute.”
He comes to a halt just before the door, peering into your eyes one last time. “You should ride my dick next time.”
You can't stop your chuckle, and he grins as he leaves and closes the door.
You don't know how long you stayed on that mattress staring at the ceiling, remembering the whole night over and over again. You just know that when you finally got back to your room and finally let the tiredness get to you, it didn't take long for Nami to wake you up for the day.
Your body was sore; there were purple marks on your neck, thighs, and butt but everything was fine. When you arrived in the kitchen to have breakfast, he was there, like every day, but this time there was a tiny bit of difference in the way he said good morning to you.
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harrywavycurly · 9 months
Text
Fake Husband Eddie Munson AU Part 3: Not Him
Part 1: here
Part 2: here
Tag List: @alana4610 @fluentmoviequoter @alicentswife @vivalasv3gan @goth-cowgirl-03 @yujyujj @slowgabinaburninroom @zaddyskye69 @manda-panda-monium @ckeeks4563 @raven-rust @adaydreamaway08 @nikkisheep @flawiette @knmendiola @corvusskid @itsmadamehydra @saramelaniemoon @winchestergirl87-blog
A/N: I have one more little epilogue type update for this little story and really I’m so glad y’all enjoyed it and I hope you’re happy with the ending ✨
*Eddie just knows he’s not leaving until you forgive him*
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“You’re such an idiot.” Eddie mumbles to himself as he rushes up the steps of your front porch. “God how the fuck do I fix this?” He asks himself as he runs a hand over his face and lets out a sigh. “Just tell her the truth.” He whispers as he reaches into the pocket of his work overalls and pulls out the skull ring the bartender tossed at him.
“What exactly is the truth Eddie?” You watch him jump at the sound of your voice and you have to hold back from laughing because he nearly dropped the ring that he held in the palm of his hand. You stand up from your rocking chair so you can lean against the railing crossing your arms over your chest. Eddie turns his body so he’s facing you and he feels his heart drop when he sees your eyes are glossy and red letting him know you had been crying and it was all because of him.
“I’m so sorry.” You roll your eyes as Eddie takes a small step towards you. “I don’t even know how it happened.” Eddie tries to find the words to explain himself but he’s coming up short as he rubs at the back of his neck.
“I can tell you exactly how it happened.” Your voice is harsh as you stare Eddie right in the eyes as you stand up straight and take a step towards him all of a sudden making your front porch feel extremely small. “You got so caught up in whatever you were doing at work that you forgot about me.” Eddie doesn’t miss the way your voice cracks a bit as you speak making him look down at his feet because looking at you when you’re on the verge of tears is too much for him. “Wanna know how I know that? Because this isn’t the first time someone’s forgotten about me because something more important came up …so please tell me Eddie…what was it that got you so distracted?” You watch him lift his head up but instead of looking at you he turns his head so he’s look in the direction of his van that’s parked in your driveway.
“A minivan.” You almost don’t hear him due to his voice being almost a whisper. You just nod your head as you let out a scoff making Eddie look at you and the way your porch light glows he’s able to see a few tears escape your eyes.
“A minivan? Really?” Eddie tries to close the space between the two of you but you’re quick to take a few steps backwards away from him. “I told myself I wouldn’t do this again.” You watch Eddie reach his hand out for you but you just shake your head and cross your arms over your chest.
“Do what?” He asks as he watches you look down at your feet.
“Be with someone who doesn’t care about me or…have time for me.” Eddie feels like his heart is about to break into a million pieces because he knows who you’re comparing him to and it kills him because he knows just how poorly Jason treated you and he doesn’t ever want you to think he’s anything like him.
“I do care about you and I absolutely have time for you.” Eddie needs you to hear him so he bends down so you’ll look him in the eyes. “I am so sorry sweetheart…I swear it won’t happen again…I’m not him okay? I had tonight circled on my calendar and everything.” You just let out a huff as you wipe your eyes.
“Yet you still didn’t show up.” Eddie knows he deserves this, it’s his fault he didn’t make sure he got off work in time to meet you at the Hideout by six, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less seeing you upset at him. “Just go home Eddie.” You whisper as you take a seat back in your rocking chair as you look down at your hands in your lap.
“No.” Is all he says before he’s closing the distance between the two of you and dropping to his knees right in front of you and picking up your right hand in his so he can place his skull ring back on your ring finger. “I’m not going anywhere…call Hopper if you want but I’m not leaving.” You look from the ring to his eyes as he gives you a little smile. “I fucked up but I swear…it won’t happen again and honestly I’d be fine with proving that to you for the rest of our lives but…that seems like a little much to say considering we haven’t even had our first date yet.” You just shake your head as a soft laugh escapes you making Eddie smile.
“Whose fault is that huh?” Your voice is playful as you look back down at the ring on your finger.
“Oh it’s my fault…but I’m here now so…what do you say? Will you let me take you somewhere?” You can hear how hopeful he is and you know in your heart he isn’t anything like Jason and he’d never hurt you intentionally.
“Okay.” Eddie smiles as he brings his hands up to cup your face. “Don’t make me regret this.” You whisper as you lean into his touch and Eddie just nods and leans in to place a kiss to your forehead.
“You won’t..I promise.” You smile as he kisses your cheeks. “Oh and one more thing.” You raise an eyebrow as he drops his hands from your face so he can grab your hand that has his ring on it. “I’m going to need you to stop trying to give this back to me.” He explains as he twirls the skull ring around on your finger a few times.
“Then I need you to stop being an asshole and never make me sit in a bar for two hours waiting for you ever again.” Eddie just nods his head as he places your hands back in your lap.
“Deal.” With that he leans in and places a kiss to your lips making you smile as he pulls away. “Now how about we go have ourselves a first date Mrs. Munson.” You just laugh as he stands up and reaches his hand out to help you out of your chair.
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birthing1020 · 5 months
Note
🫃2️⃣🩺💦
Tags; male, twins, birthing center, orgasmic birth.
The day you were due, you showed up at the birthing center. Your hung over and swollen belly had finally dropped and contractions were a few hours apart — you’d rather be safe than sorry and giving birth in your home instead.
You sighed and waddled down to the suite they had assigned you, your shirt above your enormous and stretched out belly. You gave it a slow rub as you set your bags on the couch and shut the door. Tossing your shirt off, you squeezed your milky and swollen tits trying to make yourself comfortable in this unfamiliar situation.
You looked around and saw a birthing pool, a huge hospital bed and a birthing ball. “Hmmm.” You grabbed the ball and stripped out of your remaining clothes, sitting on the object. Your now plushy ass rubbing on the material as you rotate your hips. You let out a soft moan as the movement alleviated some of the pain these contractions were making you feel. Your big hairy belly in full view as it separated your legs, your twins kicking around and making themselves fairly known.
All of a sudden the door opens and quickly shuts as a male was in the room, you try to cover yourself up — but you figured they have seen births before so this wasn’t unusual.
“Good job baby boy, I’m your midwife”. Just those words made you blush, you continued to rock your hips with this unfamiliar man’s encouragement. A contraction tightens your belly and you moan out. “I’m going to help you give birth….nice and slow.” The man was in uniform after all — so this could be rather interesting.
The man approached you, kneeling beside you as he pants and encourages breathing techniques, you’re trying to keep your composure but this man was turning you on — so much, you were already dripping with excitement. You moaned out as another contraction rippled through your body, panting harder and longer than before. The pressure building between the horniness of this mysterious man and your twins racing to get out of your cunt.
All of a sudden he cups your cunt and you can’t help but grunt, from the dominance of this situation and the first crowning baby in your hole. “Nice and slow…let’s break your water, I want you to feel it all.” His tone low and husky, if you weren’t crowning you’d be bending over and getting railed from this guy. You part your legs further and you moan loudly, pushing your ever so slowly bulging cunt into his hand.
You palm his hand with your cunt, panting as the babies shift into place and your pussy is now expanding and widening. You squeeze your eyes shut and pant harshly, one of his fingers slip inside you and rub your aching clit, just drenching his fingers. “Oh—oh! Oh!” You chant and let out a scream, you rock your hips but that does nothing but palm his hand faster. “Oh my god! Oh my god!” You screech and water comes gushing out of your cunt.
“Good boy — c’mon honey, push her out, use this strength. Make your achy little cunt stretch out for me”. And just like that, you orgasm all over his fingers and push the hardest push you have done, this orgasm rippling around you as you push your first baby out.
You pant harshly, trying to contain yourself with what just happened. The midwife cuts the cord and wraps the little girl up, setting her peacefully in a bassinet. “Get on the bed and face away from me, kneel on all fours.”
You nod and oblige, kneeling on the bed as another contraction hits. You moan and put your ass in the air, everything in full view of this man. Your legs part because of your huge belly, your milking tits pushed into the sheets and you’re groaning with desire. He sits on the edge of the bed and reaches up, toying with the newly crowned head that has made its presence known.
“Feel this, baby boy? Feel this head expanding your cunt? I want you to feel everything ~ and I want you to cum again for me, before I let you birth.” He cups your sensitive and bulging pussy, pushing the head back in and allowing it to drop out ever so slightly before easing it back into place, ruining the work your birthing body is naturally doing.
You put your head into the pillow and whimper with frustration, your pussy bulging bigger than ever with this baby as you whine out. You squat down more, pushing your pussy into his hand and you rub against it, slowly but surely beginning to get yourself off. You pant and moan louder, the closer you are to the edge. He shoves the head back inside you again and you scream out in pleasure, orgasming all over his hand before beginning to push.
“That’s a good boy, keep going. Keep going. Push for me!” His encouraging words keep you going, one leg now dangling off the bed and you push hard, the head now fully crowning and expanding your cunt. You stop to breathe for a second, the head now out and poking out of your more than sensitive cunt. “One more push baby boy.” He stands up and rubs your hairy belly with one hand, cupping the head with the other.
He ever so slowly pulls the baby out as you push. One. Two. Three pushes and the body flops out and into his arm, he cuts the cord and places the second girl into a new bassinet before leaving the room.
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freminet-writings · 5 months
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Hiii~I'm the anon who requested grand priestess reader- could I request the same story but this time they get sent on a date- like this time freminet wants to keep her so he uhm fucks her wanting to keep her by his side no matter what cause..in freminet lore we know he is interested in penguins so he might think penguins mate for life that kinda situation. .
Breeding is the correct explanation..
Sorry if it's too much
FINALLY SOME INTERNET 🙏 my laptop is the only thing that will get any lol so i can at least keep playing genshin and star rail, and write some on there!!
tags: @astroellez @sukirosiac @lyneys-hat @scaranaris-lil-niko @sukiidreams @circles19 @xyvelin @kirbystrange @saralovesyouu this is a fem reader if i got anyone wrong please lmk 😭
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now it had been weeks since what happened with you and freminet, the two of you interacted occasionally because of mutual friends, you always tried to avoid his eyes, even with how badly it he wanted you to look
back then, freminet used to be bothered with how outgoing and teasing his brother was, but now he couldn't be more grateful as lyney noticed his stares and arranged the two of you for a date, all alone in their house
it was perfect, you were all alone with no way of avoiding him, he knew you wanted it too, if the last time was anything to go off of
it barely felt like a second you were alone when he practically jumped on you, taking your lips in a rough fashion, weeks of passion and frustration pouring out of him
"you're so beautiful... I've thought about nothing but you...under me, begging me for more, you want it too, don't you?" he whispered as he pulled away, his mouth moving down to bite and lick around your neck, his hand squeezing your thigh as it slowly went higher
your breathing came quicker, you didn't even realize he had already taken his cock out as he kissed and marked all over you
"hm~ you're mine, I already decided that when i last did this...but why don't i make sure we're together forever...?" he pushed into you, making you gasp out
"m-mnhng...what do you mean...? a-ah~" his hips thrusted into you, as his hand moved down to flick and rub at your clit
"haah...if i got you pregnant, i would take care of you... I'd make sure you were well, and never had to work again... don't you want that?" he thrusted harder, his groans and moans in your ear
you couldn't even respond as he held you down, thrusting repeatedly and seeming to know every little thing that makes you see stars
"that's right... you'll be mine forever, we'll have as many as you want, I'll breed you day and night if you want it, oh, god..." his thrusts became faster, his grip on your thigh was tight as his cock worked perfectly into you, as if you were made for it
his fingers skillfully flicked your clit until you came around him, squirming under him as he continued, he moaned out your name as you slowly milked him, but he didn't stop as he came
"what? i said i was gonna get you pregnant..." he grunted as he gave a hard thrust "I'm not stopping until you're about to pass out..."
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doodle-pops · 5 months
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House of Finarfin | Getting Into A Fight for Their S/O
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A/N: For my inactivity, have a cookie 🍪 and some headcanons for the golden boys. It was nearly impossible to write for this house when they’re so classy and more tamed than the others. Like imagine Finarfin getting into a fistfight (⊙_⊙)?
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˖ ࣪ . ࿐ ♡ ˚ . Finarfin
This elf does not condone violence and would not even for the slightest allow himself to engage in such unmannered acts…before the public eye or yours. You really believe if push came to shove, Finarfin would be a bit violent, and I don’t mean physical alteration.
Underneath, he’s boiling with rage and desires to jump–kick that idiot (for the first time he felt physical impulses) who decided to spill belittling accusations about you and his family. The glass in his hand has cracks on the side, ready to shatter.
Aware that this matter would become worse as the idiot prattles forever on, he’ll call his men to have them removed and thrown into prison to spend the night or a few days. While that occurs, he drags you off to enjoy the rest of the night doing everything to dissipate his anger.
During the night when you’re fast asleep—which he ensures before departing—he’ll pay his newly recruited prisoner a visit for a nice heart–to–heart conversation. This means he’s rolled up his sleeves to brace the perpetrator against the wall and have them sweating bullets.
No one has ever seen Finarfin like this, nor will anyone ever (and believe it). Finarfin is still elegant as ever as he speaks menacingly and warns the prisoner to never let it happen again or this nice talk would be different.
By sunrise, he’s back in bed and cuddled up at your side. Whispering sweet nothings into your ear and expressing his love and adoration as though he wasn’t threatening someone in the prison cells hours earlier for indecent behaviour.
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˖ ࣪ . ࿐ ♡ ˚ . Finrod
Remember that this is the same Nom Nom who fought with a werewolf naked and killed it with his teeth. So without further ado, how foolish does one need to be to provoke our quiet Finrod? Astronomically.
All Finrod wants to do is enjoy the night with his lover and family and get drunk from the unlimited stock of wine, but someone has to ruin his night by throwing physical insults and jabs at you. As a composed individual, he’ll attempt to dissolve the issue, but nothing ever goes as planned.
The next thing you know, you’re witnessing a fluffy golden–haired male going ‘left right uppercut goodnight’ and a bite in the middle of the celebration and a bunch of guards and his brothers are rushing to prevent the fight from escalating.
Finrod is seething with a calming rage that appears terrifying because all he’s doing is S T A R I N G as they remove him from the beaten–to–pulp perpetrator on the floor. It’s the look in his eyes which no one has ever seen before that’s sending fear down your spine.
His brothers would suggest that you tag along to show Finrod that you were safe and alright. They would make you stay with him the rest of the night to keep him busy instead of doing something impulsive.
Finrod would be embarrassed and ashamed when he snapped out of his state and realised that you just witnessed him in an unhinged manner, fighting someone. So much apologies, Finrod would throw himself on his knees to beg for forgiveness while you’re cleaning his injuries. The sight would make you chuckle and freeze.
“Findo, sweetheart. I know you’re sorry, but you were also defending me, don’t apologise.” Give him some kisses and cuddle him to relieve his stress. His glow would return.
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˖ ࣪ . ࿐ ♡ ˚ . Angrod
He’s hot–headed and could give a few of the Feanorians a run for their money when it comes to flying off the railing and diving headfirst into a fight to defend you. He’s not giving the individual a chance to beg for forgiveness because in his mind, “Why would you talk about my S/O as a joke?”
Seeing Angrod in a fight comes off as…normal due to already seeing his and Aegnor’s temper. You naturally had the inclination that him getting into physical altercations would occur, however, you were expecting it other reasons.
Cue, his older brother and cousins getting involved to struggle drag a madman away as he shouts profanities across the room and attempts to break free of their grasp. He’s seething and fighting to break free to finish what he started.
You would have to be stern in order to gain his attention away from the perpetrator being dragged off. If you thought Finrod did damage, wait till you see what his younger brother managed.
S H A K E him back into reality because his focus is elsewhere, refusing to meet your eyes, mostly because he still isn’t aware of your presence yet. But still, give him a violet shake and scold him for injuring himself because his knuckles were all bruised.
Angrod would remain broody for the rest of the night while you pull his ears and pinch him to drop the altercation because he’s swearing under his breath every chance he gets. Push him in a pool of cold water to wake him up and join him for a swim, he’s finally dropped it.
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˖ ࣪ . ࿐ ♡ ˚ . Aegnor
Angrod 2.0 because he throwing his fists with fervour, left and right the minute words of insult are thrown in your direction. Insult him, but not his family or his beloved. In the beginning, there would be a small attempt at escaping the scene because you’re there and he doesn’t wish for you to overhear.
Yet, the fool who wishes to continue prattling doesn’t get the hint when receiving the look of death. Some extra foul words would be exchanged before Aegnor releases himself from your grasp and lunges at the elf, dragging him across the floor.
Never before had you seen your lovestruck elf so enraged, and it terrified you, even if the matter were to defend your name and honour. The sight of his calmest and most treasured smile vanished into the air when you caught a glimpse of his face stone–set and focused on the actions.
However, it was the guards under the order of his father who tugged him away while he threw daggers at the unconscious elf. The person who could speak sense into him would be you reassuring him that you were fine, and no harm was delivered.
Hold and squeeze him tightly as you pepper his face with butterfly kisses and turn his attention onto you (kisses are the best way to keep him focused on you). Probably take him for a swim for his stress to fade. Let him skip a few stones to release his frustration.
And when he’s done, reassure him that all is well, and you’re not upset by his choice to defend you. Tell him how brave or fearless (or impulsive) he was to dive into the fight and save your pride, it’ll make him turn into a strawberry.
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Masterlist
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Taglist: @lilmelily @rain-on-my-umbrella @ranhanabi777 @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @mysticmoomin @a-tong @aconstructofamind @stormchaser819 @involuntaryspasms
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sturn777 · 27 days
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ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴇʀ ꜱᴍᴀꜱʜ! ᴘᴛ2
chris sturniolo x naomi west
outfit | pt1
warnings - smut, no protection, mentions of male being hard, fucked dumb, male x female smut, never written smut before so sorry if its bad, cant think of anything else
tags: @st7rnioioss @its-jennarose @timmyscomputer @kriissy4gov @liz-stxrn @sunrisemill @mattssluttywaist @riasturns @mx0qin @junnniiieee07 @alorsxsturn @annasturn0lo
Chris had left the tent whilst Skies prepared to perform on stage - so to waste time him and Matt decided to go watch Playboy Carti.
As the two of them walked up, the song Carti was jumping around to finished and he began announcing something through the microphone. “Yo! I wanna bring somebody out for this song, Naomi get your ass out here!”
As he said the girls name fans screamed from the mass of a crowd - Chris smiled as he would be able to watch her. He didn’t listen to Naomis’ music religiously but he still appreciated it.
He watched as she jogged out onto stage, now in a different outfit than the joggers she was wearing when he had first met her. Matt puled out the camera and recorded the stage for a minute before shutting it off again. Allowing Nars to pull him off to another section.
Chris bopped his head to the music, watching as Naomi danced around laughing with Carti. He listened as the beat changed up, watching as she grinned and prepared for her verses.
He stood off to the side as the crowd bounced up and down to her bars, the rhymes flowing smoothly. The large crowd sung along word for word.
As there was a gap in Naomi’s verse, Carti rapping for a while she turned around and began to twerk - earning screams to ring throughout. Chris could feel the tent appear again, the way her back moved and-
Gross, you just met her Chris.
He watched as she stood up, laughing brightly before rapping her shared verse. Dancing around stage with Carti once again.
——
Chris couldn’t focus the entire time he was on stage, barely getting the lyrics out his mouth as he jumped around stage with his idol. It didn’t help he had scrolled through Naomis instagram before hand either.
After saying goodbye he, Matt and Nars checked what was happening - hearing an after-party was happening. They decided they would go and leave if they didn’t like it.
In the ride there Matt pulled the camera out, allowing Chris to narrate. As soon as his brother put the camera back down a ring came from his phone, and a smile appeared on his face from the notification.
Naomi 💋🤍: you going to the after party?
Chris chuckled at the emoji’s Naomi had added to her own name earlier on.
Chris 😍: Yeah are you?
Naomi 💋🤍: yeah js wondering if u wanna meet 🙃
Chris 😍: Bet, I’ll tell you when I get there
He put his phone back into his lap and grinned, doing everything in his power to not think about the girls instagram posts.
——
As they walked into the house, music blared loudly throughout. Chris quickly texted Naomi and she told him she was near the stairs.
“Matt, I’m gonna find the bathroom. I’ll find you whenever.” he shouted into his brother’s ear who just nodded and walked off with the others.
Chris wandered through the crowds, occasionally dapping up somebody who knows him. He noticed the girl near the stairs, sharing a blunt with Carti before he took the last hit and walked off with the girl that was wrapped around his arm.
He watched as Naomi blew the smoke out of her mouth, it twirled gracefully before evaporating into the air that was hot from the amount of bodies.
He exhaled, gaining confidence before tapping onto Naomis shoulder. “You good, ma?” he teased, looking into hed low and droopy eyes. She nodded with a grin. “So what you tryna do?” he smirked.
One of his arms came and rested on the stair railing, trapping Naomi in slightly which she couldn’t help but blush at. She shrugged confidently, “Up to you baby.”
Chris’ eyes flickered over her features before he leaned in, his nose brushing hers before their lips connected roughly. His hands quickly found the girls hips whilst Naomis wrapped around his neck. “Wanna find a bathroom or something?” Naomi suggested, pulling away slightly out of breath.
Chris nodded, leading the girl down the hallway as she giggled. He pulled her in, locking the door after them and immediately connected their lips once again.
Stepping forward he caused the girl to step back, leaning her up against the wall. His hands found her hips again, one tapping her ass.
Taking the hint Naomi jumped up, straddling his waist as he pressed her into the wall. His lips travelled down her jawline and under her ear - hitting the sweet spot to which her back arched into him.
“Please, just” Naomi panted, a hand steading herself on his shoulder and the other tugging on his wavy hair. Chris nodded as he understood. Sliding her dress up and unbuckling his belt.
“Use your words ma.” he instructed, pausing his sloppy kisses, waiting.
Naomi whined at the loss of contact, giving in to speaking. “Fuck me please Chris.” the brunette nodded, muttering a ‘yes ma’am’ before going back to marking her neck with dark bruises.
Using a hand he slid his jeans off along with his boxers, looking at the girls screwing up face. He wish he could see that more often. Her panting up again the cold tiles, the marks he left scattered along her neck even dipping down to her covered chest.
“You sure ma?” he asked once again, earning a rapid nod from the girl. Using his hand again he moved the lacy thong out of the way of Naomis heat, seeing it soaked already.
Chris kissed the girl again before pushing himself inside, earning a loud moan and grunt as they adjusted to each other. Chris waited until Naomis grip has loosened on his shoulders slightly before continuing. “Tell me if you need to stop ma.” he grunted, pushing himself further inside causing her to nod her head with a whimper.
Naomi dug her head into his neck. He was way bigger than she expected and she was already fucked dumb. Chris smirked at the thought of that, thrusting faster each time he went, hair nails gripping harshly at his shirt.
The bathroom became hot, the small mirror and window steaming up as the air felt tight and had the smell of sex. Chris’ thrusts slowly began to become sloppy as both him and Naomi reached their ends.
“Imma, ‘m…” Naomi slurred slight, Chris nodding encouragingly as he too felt the pit in his stomach.
“Whenever you’re ready ma.” he soon felt her tighten and relax, riding her through it before releasing his own onto her thigh. “You’re so pretty, you know that?” he panted, pushing his hair back and chuckled, her following. Chris kissed her shoulder before grabbing a washcloth from underneath the sink.
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angelltheninth · 1 year
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Dub-con breeding blurb with Sukuna? You can't tell me he wouldn't do it, the men has to be pent up as hell.
Pent up yeah, I bet, a whole lot, just waiting.
Pairing: Sukuna x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, dub-con, breeding kink, rough sex, dirty talk, use of the word Master, creampie, name-calling, degradation, demon mode Sukuna
Word count: 0.8k
A/N: This ended up being a lot longer then a blurb sorry not sorry lmao. I think Sukuna is the embodiment of if evil why hot? If evil why you wanna suck him off?
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"What's the matter, where did all your attitude from before go, huh sweet cheeks?" Sukuna's hands held you by the wrists, pulling them towards himself while his other two pairs of hands kept your legs spread open, "You were so feisty before I got my cock in you."
"S-Shut up. Just... fuck!" Your back arched at one particularly deep thrust. Damn it, you were supposed to be watching him, making sure that he's not up to anything crazy. Last time you checked your duties didn't include being absolutely railed by him, but that was what was happening.
Sukuna's eyes darted all over your body, from your pretty, flustered face, your lips, red and swollen from his, your eyes welling up with frustrated tears, your body, marked by him, kisses and scratches painting such a pretty picture of his ownership over you, your clit, which was just begging for attention, your pussy, being rammed by his cock. What a sight you were.
"Your cunt is opening up. It knows it's master, about time you accepted me. You're finally being more honest with yourself. Ah, but I want you to say it, say it. Before I breed you like the bitch in heat that you are, say who your master is." You almost did, your body on the verge of betrayal, your pussy walls tightening around his dick. No, no, you couldn't lose to him. "What a stubborn bitch. It's fine, I always welcome a challenge." He started pulling on your wrists, pulling your body towards his, no longer were you just having his cock rammed into you but he was pulling you onto it too, the frequency of the wet, slapping sounds increasing, along with your moans. "Close?"
He was so damn smug, he knew it already, he just wanted to humiliate you more, "No." You lied, "I... I can't... I won't..."
"You can and you will. Disobedient slut, think you can lie to the King? Fine, I'll make your slutty pussy admit it then as it takes my seed." Sukuna almost roared as he smirked down at you, his eyes locked on your still defiant face, "It wants it already, your pussy wants my cum. So dirty of you, wanting to be breed by the man who you're supposed to hate. I'll breed you for all to see, for all to know you're my woman, mine."
"Go. To. Hell." Your threat was a lot less convincing with how good his cock felt inside of you. Sukuna's hand guided one of yours towards your clit and without thinking you started rubbing to. "Fuck...!" It felt so good, so damn good, you shouldn't enjoy it, you should hate him, want him dead. You did but... a part of you also wanted his cock, and that part was starting to get hard to ignore.
His triumphant laughter made you feel even more ashamed, "That's it. It feels good doesn't it, to give in. Surrender, and I'll take good care of you. You don't need the Sorcerers anymore, hell they probably won't take you back now that you've enjoyed my cock. Or maybe they will, because they know your good pussy can keep me at bay."
You bit your lip, struggling against the reality of his words with little success. He shouldn't be right, he shouldn't hold any sort of power over you, he shouldn't make you feel good. But he was, against all your wishes he was making you feel so damn good right now. Desired, and the way he spoke, like it was all you, it was you who could keep him at bay. You, as long you were his.
"Never again." You still tried to argue against him.
"Liar. You're such a liar. But I have all the time in the world to get you to be honest with me. In the meantime, I want to see how much cum this hole can hold." He started going faster, at lightning speed almost as his thrusts actually stung where his body met yours, "Dishonest mouth but a honest pussy I see. You'll take it, take my seed, get pregnant you little lying whore, see if you can deny me then, when you're properly breed and round with my child." Sukuna roared his release, his cock shooting bursts of thick, hot, white cum.
The sensation made your body halt in the spot, then start shaking as your orgasm hit you, your fingers moving recklessly and with wild, lustful abandon over your clit. "Pull out." You groaned and whimpered, already knowing it was too late for him to do so. Still he obliged, smug as ever, but only to see the flood of his cum rushing out of your still clenching hole. "You're such a fucking bastard."
"Agreed. At least I admit what I am. You'll get there soon too, until then..." Sukuna leaned back and pulled you along, four arms wrapping around you, "I'll have to teach you your lesson over and over. Get ready for round two." His cock entered your sensitive hole again, starting the process until you admitted that you were his.
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funnylittlelad · 1 year
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Rules Made To Be Broken - Steve Harrington x gn!reader
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Thank you for (over) 200 followers!!
Masterlist - AO3
Rule One >>
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summary: As you and Steve grow closer, things seem to be going perfectly. That is until your police chief father steps in. The more you lie the deeper a hole you dig, but what else can you do? No matter what your dad says, you're not staying away from Steve Harrington.
wordcount: 12k
notes/tags: Hopper!reader, secret dating, sneaking around, fluff, friends to lovers, almost teenage car shenanigans, events of season three do not take place (canon divergent), Hopper is a bit of an overprotective helicopter parent, mentions of/talks about: abusive parents, tumultuous relationships, divorce, death, and family trauma., Steve's dad is his own warning, We Love Callahan In This House.
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Prologue: Accidents Happen
It happens by accident. At least, that's what you tell yourself. You’d had the odd relationship here and there, but it’s never been serious. It's never been allowed to be serious. Your dad made sure of that. He scared anyone off before they got too comfortable. Usually, you're fine with that. It saves you a lot of trouble in the long run. You like that you don't have to commit. That's why Steve Harrington coming out of nowhere scares the living shit out of you.
Over the past year, you’d gotten closer to him. Not a lot, but enough for him to get a foothold. Then he started working at the ice cream shop next to your job at the mall arcade. You’d pop in every so often to say hi to Robin. She was one of the few friends your dad approved of. He never stopped you from being friends with people, but there would always be a telltale hmph. After a few weeks, you started visiting more, only it wasn't for Robin. It was for Steve Harrington and his little sailor shorts. 
“You’re gonna get me fired with all these free samples,” Steve pretends to complain with crossed arms.
You finish polishing off the most recent little spoon with a smile.
“You’re the one that keeps giving them to me, Mr. One-Per-Customer,” you tease.
“Don't you have snot to clean off of some video game?” he jabs, leaning forward on the counter.
“I got off and you seemed like you needed company,” you shrug.
“Well, I get off in fifteen. What d’you say to keeping me company through a movie?” Steve asks in a rare show of bashfulness, picking at an invisible spot on the counter. 
You grow a dazzling grin.
“I say that sounds fun.”
It was fun. Until Steve drove you home. Your driveway is lit only by the last reaches of sunlight, an orange fading to purple over the trees. On the front porch, leaning with his forearms against the railing, and a lit cigarette hanging from his mouth is your dad. He watches Steve’s car with narrowed eyes, taking a slow drag. The half-unbuttoned uniform tells you he just got off duty. 
“Should I say hi?” Steve asks unsure.
“No,” you sigh, “We’re about to fight.”
Steve looks at you startled.
“What?” 
“Jonathan isn't home, which means I was supposed to come back right after work to watch Will and El. Except Will and El don't need a babysitter, but I need a life. So, we’re about to fight,” you explain like it's a simple equation.
“Right, I forgot Hopper and Joyce shacked up,” Steve nods.
“Don't talk about my dad shacking up,” you scrunch your face in disgust.
“Sorry,” Steve laughs and stretches an arm over the back of your seat around the headrest, “When can I see you again?”
A spiced apple scent surrounds you, rolling off of him. A smell that's Steve’s and Steve’s alone.
“You see me almost every time you work,” you point out with a light blush.
“I know, but I mean like this,” he gestures between you with his free hand.
The smile that crawls onto your face is impossible to fight off. You glance back at your dad. He’s stamping out his cigarette in the ashtray on the railing. Then he pulls out the pack of Camels that's always in his breast pocket and takes out another. His eyes stay glued on Steve as he lights it, settling back into his position on the railing to make it clear he isn't going anywhere. 
“I’m free tomorrow after four,” you look back at Steve who is still watching you.
Your heart races under his scrutiny.
“Pick you up at four-thirty?” He raises his eyebrows hopefully.
“See you then.”
You slip out of Steve’s beemer with one last smile. Your back stays to your father as you gently wave at Steve while he pulls out. Once he’s driving away you sigh. There’s no more putting this off. You turn around slowly to find your dad standing upright with his arms crossed. The newest cigarette hangs from the side of his mouth.
“You’re late,” he states.
“And the house is still standing,” you gesture behind him.
“Why was Harrington bringing you home?” he questions, jerking his chin toward the now-empty space in the driveway.
“Because we’re friends and we hung out after work,” you shrug. 
“Friends, huh?”
“Yes, dad, friends. Y’know, those things I have every now and then until you scare them off,” you cross your own arms.
“That's all you are?” he checks suspiciously.
“Yes, that's all we are,” you confirm.
“Alright,” he nods in understanding, “You’re grounded.”
“What? You can't ground me! I’m nineteen years old!” You argue.
“My roof,” he shoots back.
“This is bullshit,” you scoff.
Your dad’s eyebrows shoot up and he looks around like there are people around to witness your audacity. 
“You were supposed to come home after work. What if something happened?” He reminds you sternly.
Your arms flail angrily in the air toward the house.
“Nothing happened! Will and El are fourteen; they don't need me to watch them!” 
“You’re grounded for a week,” he deadpans.
You let out a humorless laugh. Frustration bubbles in your chest until you can feel it pressing against your eyes. You hold the tears in. They’ll do you no good here.
“Dad, you have to accept that I’m not a child at some point,” you snap. 
“Good to know,” he drawls, “Check back at the end of the week and see where I’m at.”
“You're ridiculous,” you grumble as you storm past him, slamming the front door behind you.
Will and El sit wide-eyed on the couch totally not listening. You ignore them as you storm down the hall to the room you share with Jonathan, slamming that door too. With a groan, you flop face-first on your bed and let out a half scream into your pillow. There’s a soft knock on the door. 
“What,” you call out, face still in the pillow so your voice is muffled.
The door creaks, just like all the doors in this house.
“Are you okay?” El’s voice asks from the doorway. 
You sigh and turn your head to look at her. The grown-out hair looks good on her. The confidence it brings her looks even better. El has been your sister since the moment you met her, no question about it. Even if it hurts like hell to look at her sometimes.
“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m sorry I wasn't home,” you answer softly.
“It is okay. Will has been helping me get ready for school,” she says. 
You smile and prop yourself up on your elbows.
“You excited to start?”
She shrugs with a small smile.
“Nervous,” she decides.
You nod.
“That's normal. Don’t worry. You’ll have Will with you and I’ll be here when you get home,” you promise.
She nods, shoulders relaxing.
“Is dad upset?”
“Yeah, he is,” you sigh.
“Joyce will fix it,” she assures you.
“You’re probably right,” you agree.
Joyce likely will fix it. She seems to be the only person who can really get through to your dad. It's something you're endlessly grateful for. You love your new family members. You really do. You just wish there was more room. You wish you had your own space. You wish there wasn't a battle every day for the shower before all the hot water is gone. You wish the food containers were always full and never put back empty, always causing a fight. 
“I miss the cabin too,” El admits quietly as if she read your mind. 
A small, sad smile crawls onto your lips.
“Dad and Joyce have been trying to find somewhere bigger. We won't be so cramped soon,” you tell her, mostly trying to convince yourself.
“Good,” she nods.
Later that night Joyce does indeed fix everything. At the very least, she got you ungrounded. She manages to make your dad realize that grounding you is not only a little extreme but a bit childish. He even begrudgingly agrees to Will and El being home without supervision more. Not a lot more, but more nonetheless. 
The next day Steve picks you up at four-thirty sharp. Your skin buzzes as you slide into his car. He’s smiling before you even get in. It's lovely, like a sunset over a meadow. Soft, light, and calming. You end up getting milkshakes and sitting on the hood of his car in the back parking lot of the diner. It's a nice evening, warm and breezy. Golden hour transforms Steve into something otherworldly. Every blond highlight becomes so much more, his skin looks like it's glowing, and his eyes are sweet glimmering butterscotch candies on you. 
“I hope I didn't get you in too much trouble last night,” he says with a smirk.
“You didn't. I'm pretty sure he likes you anyways. Y’know, after you helped save the world and his kid. He was mad at me, but I think he’s over it,” you answer. 
“It must’ve been hard having the police chief as your dad growing up,” Steve comments thoughtfully.
“It was,” you smile wryly, “It didn't get me invited to any parties, that's for sure.”
Steve cringes as red blooms across his cheeks. He sips on his milkshake, avoiding your amused eyes. The two of you weren't friends in school by a long shot. When he finds them again, his own are far more apologetic than they need to be.
“I’m sorry if I was a jerk to you at all.”
Your wry smile turns soft and genuine.
“You weren't, but you're right. My dad’s job definitely didn't make me popular. Everyone assumed I was a narc. Even the people on the track team with me.”
“Yeah,” Steve chuckles, “I remember that being said.”
“Can I ask you a dumb question without you laughing at how dumb it is?” You nudge his sneaker with your own.
He puts on a serious face and gives you a dutiful nod. 
“Ask away.”
“Is this a date?” 
Steve immediately starts to laugh. You hit him in the chest.
“You said you wouldn't laugh,” you whine.
“I said I wouldn't laugh at how dumb it is. I’m laughing at how cute it is,” he informs you with a smile.
You can feel the flames lick across your skin as his words heat you up. You take a sip of your own chocolate milkshake to cool down.
“So, what’s the verdict, Harrington?” You cut right to the chase.
Steve chuckles some more.
“I’m really seeing the Hopper genes,” he teases.
“Shut up.”
“No, no, really, I do. I can see them riiight,” Steve reaches across and brushes his cold thumb over your lips, “here.”
His hand cradles your jaw as his thumb continues brushing the cool soft skin of your lips. His fingers are so icy from holding his milkshake that you shiver. 
“You stare at my dad’s mouth a lot?” You breathe teasingly.
Both of you regard each other with hooded eyelids.
“He smokes a lot of cigarettes,” Steve shrugs, “It draws the eye.”
You’re in the middle of laughing when his lips capture yours. The kiss is sweet, tender, and chaste. Steve’s hand slides to tangle his thick fingers in your hair. He puts his milkshake down next to him to free his other hand. His newly liberated hand cups your jaw as he deepens the kiss. Your heart races in your stomach as you get a taste of Steve Harrington on the hood of his beemer. When you pull back you're both breathing heavier than before. Wide smiles spread across both of your flushed faces. 
“So, is it a date or not?” You jokingly ask with furrowed brows.
Steve laughs and you can't help but laugh along. It feels good to laugh with Steve. It feels right. Your laughs mingle like they were always meant to be heard together. When you finish your milkshakes Steve brings you home. Once again, your dad is on the porch smoking. No doubt he’s waiting to see if you abide by your promise to be home before dinner. 
“Is it just me or is he trying to melt me with his eyes?” Steve smiles and waves at your dad through the windshield as he asks.
Your dad gives him a nod of acknowledgment. You roll your eyes at your dad’s standoffishness. 
“Don't take it personally, he does it to everyone.”
“Noted.”
“I had a lot of fun with you today,” you smile.
Steve grins at you, so tempted to kiss you but conscious of your father’s eyes on him.
“Me too. Y’know- uh- Robin and I do these movie nights every week. Would you maybe wanna crash the next one? I know she wouldn't mind and I wouldn't mind spending more time with you,” Steve’s hand subtly moves to brush your thigh under the cover of the dashboard.
“You’re positive Robin won't mind me being there?” 
“Absolutely.”
You find yourself smiling and nodding before putting much more thought into it. All your little pleasure-seeking rat brain heard was more time with Steve.
“Then I’d love to.”
“Great, I’ll give you a call tomorrow with the details.”
“Lookin’ forward to it,” You say, wishing you could kiss him.
Then you slide out of the car. Steve doesn't pull out until you hit the two porch stairs. Your dad watches him leave before turning to you.
“You and Harrington normally hang out alone?” He asks. 
“What's the big deal?”
“Just didn't realize you two were that close.”
“Yeah, well, fighting otherworldly creatures of the night with someone tends to strengthen a friendship,” you drawl sarcastically.
“Isn't he friends with your friend with the tuba?”
“I know you know who Robin is and what instrument she plays,” you roll your eyes playfully, “and yes he is.”
“What about them, there something going on there?”
“No,” you snort, “definitely not. Why are you so interested in Steve’s dating life?”
“I’m your father. I’m just looking out for you. I've caught Harrington in the back of that beemer enough times to know what his dating life is like,” he explains gruffly and takes a drag of his cigarette.
The thought of your dad tapping on the steamed-up window of Steve’s car with the butt of his flashlight puts a bad taste in your mouth. It makes you miss the sweet taste of Steve. 
“You don't think it's possible for people to change?” you question, trying not to sound too defensive.
Your dad huffs a laugh and puts out his cigarette.
“Guys like him don't change, trust me,” he tells you.
Anger starts to prick at your skin. You can't fight him, though. It wouldn't change his mind anyways.
“Well, I’m going to his house for a movie night with Robin this week,” you inform him.
He seems to physically relax when he hears Robin will be with you. It fills you with a strange sense of dread. You thought your dad liked Steve. You didn't think he’d have an issue with Steve or his dating life. Anxiety starts to creep in. What if your dad chases Steve away? For once, you care if the person you're seeing is scared off.
“Look,” your dad rubs his jaw as he collects his thoughts, “Steve is a decent guy. I know he’s good looking and I’m sure there are rumors about- about- his virility-”
“Okay, that’s enough,” you cut him off sharply, “What’s the point you're even trying to make?”
“Just stay away from him like that. It's fine you're friends, but keep it there. You’ll only end up hurt,” he tells you.
Well, that certainly isn't what you expected. A dense ball of anger, sadness, hurt, and defensiveness sits in your gut. If you don't get away soon you’re sure you’ll blow one way or another.
“Yeah, okay. I’ll stay away from Steve,” you lie.
There's no chance in Hell.
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Robin’s eyes are wide as saucers as you tell her about your dad’s Anti-Steve sentiments. You lay across her bed as she sways herself to and fro on her desk chair. Her room is as scattered and cluttered as her mind is, but that’s what you love about it. It’s like living in one of Robin’s thoughts. “He seriously told you to stay away from him?” She questions incredulously.
“Sure did. God, he’s so dramatic. I don't get why he's so against it. I mean, sure Steve has been known to… get around, but that was high school. He hasn't even been able to score a date in like a year,” you vent.
“What are you going to do?” Robin's eyebrows knit. 
She was admittedly ecstatic when Steve told her he wanted to ask you out. She was even more ecstatic when you told her you may have a tiny crush on Steve. You swore up and down it was the sailor shorts that did it, but you both know better. It's clear when you and Steve are around each other. You gravitate toward one another without thought, slowly growing closer and talking more until it's like you're the only two in existence. 
“I’m not going to stop seeing Steve,” you shake your head, “I mean we've only been on one date and he hasn't even asked me on a second one yet-”
“Nope, don't even go there,” Robin cuts you off.
“What? I’m just saying-”
“You’re about to convince yourself that Steve doesn't really like you. I’m not letting it happen.”
You pout dramatically at her. There's no time to try to argue or push back playfully. Steve honks from the driveway three times to signal his arrival. A grin spreads across your face as you shoot up and start heading down. Robin shakes her head as she breathes a laugh. 
Steve is standing with his arm propped on the top of the open driver-side door. He smiles wide at you as you emerge from the house. You stroll right up to him allowing the door to act as a physical barrier. Before you can say anything, Steve ducks down and plants a quick kiss on your lips. You’re suddenly boiling. He smiles sweetly when he pulls away.
“Hey, there,” he murmurs.
“Hey,” you murmur back.
“Okay, if this is how it's going to be all night, I change my mind,” Robin complains from behind you.
You poke your tongue out at her teasingly causing her to chuckle. Instinctively, you start going for the backseat because Robin is here. The moment you start in that direction you’re stopped.
“Ah-Ah-Ah- Since you and Steve are officially sucking face now it only seems right you take shotgun,” Robin puts her hands up to insist.
The smile that starts to spread on your face dies.
“Thanks, Rob, but I probably shouldn't. My dad is on duty today and if he sees that I’m suddenly the one sitting in the front…,” you trail off with a sigh.
“What's the big deal if he sees you sitting in the front?” Steve asks with furrowed brows.
You glance at Steve anxiously and then at Robin. Both of you look back at Steve.
“My dad may be against the idea of us dating and he might have told me to stay away from you in any romantic sense,” you tell him.
Steve frowns with searching eyes. He reminds you of a cartoon puppy.
“I thought he liked me,” he says.
“He does! He just…,” you start, but struggle.
“He thinks you're a whore,” Robin chimes in.
“Robin,” you hiss and shoot her a glare.
She mouths a sheepish sorry. You sigh and look at Steve’s hurt expression once more.
“He just doesn't want me to get hurt. It doesn't change anything. All this means is we have to keep it down low until we can change his mind,” you assure him.
He nods but doesn't look convinced. 
“Guess that means a sleepover tonight is off the table?” he checks half hopeful.
“My curfew is graciously at eleven,” you smile sadly.
“Curfew? You’re an adult,” Robin scoffs.
“An adult who doesn't have a key for the new house yet. My dad said if I’m not home by then the door will be locked.”
“What's the big deal if the door is locked if you have somewhere to stay?” Robin pushes.
“Look- I don't have an explanation for everything, okay? I know my dad is really strict and it’s kind of pathetic because I’m too old for it. It’s more complicated than it looks. If that's something you don't want to deal with o-or-” you start a slightly panicked ramble.
“Whoa- no one is saying that,” Steve reaches out and places warm hands on your upper arms.
The contact grounds you. You nod, taking a deep breath.
“I’m sorry I upset you. My mouth gets ahead of my brain sometimes and I-” Robin starts an anxious apology.
“It’s okay, Rob. I know,” you offer a small smile.
You all clamber into Steve’s car after that. You place yourself in the middle of the backseat. Steve’s eyes meet yours in the rearview mirror every few minutes. Each time you felt the corners of your lips twitch and your cheeks warm. Something about Steve makes you feel like you're in middle school again trying to figure out how to act around the person you like-like. 
In the end, you're glad you chose the back. Around half way to Steve’s house, you see the truck. Your dad is camped out on a pull-off, normal for a cop scouting for speeding tickets. Not normal for the Hawkins Police Chief, though. You groan when you realize he planted himself where he knew Steve would likely drive by. His eyes scan the car as Steve drives by. Steve very pointedly drives the speed limit. You avoid his eyes entirely.
“You said your curfew is at eleven?” Steve double-checks, meeting your eyes once more in the mirror.
“Yeah,” you confirm with a nod.
“Got it,” he nods resolutely.
It's safe to say he’s determined to get you home on time after the look Hopper just gave him. Steve kind of wishes he didn't look over in the first place. The moment he noticed the chief’s truck he should have kept his eyes forward like he didn't see a thing. Likely the worst part about the whole thing is how blatant it was. Hopper wanted Steve to know that he was watching, to be careful, and tread lightly. It’s a message he heard loud and clear. Steve won’t give Hopper any more reasons not to like him.
They make it to Steve’s without incident. Hopper thankfully doesn't follow them, but Steve makes sure to abide by every traffic law anyways. He wouldn't doubt Hopper has eyes everywhere. Plus, he’s seen the man in action and he'd like to not be on the other end of that.
“Steve,” Robin groans when she sees the VHS on his coffee table, “Why did you have to pick that one?”
“What? I like that movie,” he defends, face beginning to glow.
Your own face catches fire when you read the cover. A couple of months ago you and Steve had a break at the same time. You spent the entire thirty minutes at a food court table talking about movies. At some point you let it slip that your favorite has recently become The NeverEnding Story. The very film that sits on the coffee table now. You send Steve a shy smile that he catches.
“Fine, it’s your week to pick,” Robin sighs with a dramatic eye roll. 
It doesn't surprise anyone but you when Steve takes your hand to lead you to the end of his plush couch. He sits and pulls you down with him so his arm is automatically over your shoulder. Robin shakes her head playfully with a smirk. She sits on the other end of the couch so she can stretch out like a cat. Her feet and yours barely miss each other as you curl into Steve.
A quarter of the way through Robin is knocked out cold. The way her arms flop over her face makes you chuckle. Steve breathes a laugh and shakes his head at her.
“She's unbelievable. She does this every week,” he tries to sound exasperated but fails.
“Sounds pretty believable if it happens every week,” you say.
“At least now that you’re going to be here I won't be left to finish the movies alone,” he comments somewhat absentmindedly.
Your eyes widen.
“Now that I’m going to be here?” You echo.
Steve’s bright brown eyes quickly move away. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. 
“Yeah,” he shrugs nonchalantly, “Y’know, if- if you'd want to. We could make this a regular thing.”
Your face breaks into a large toothy grin. Steve’s face starts to mirror yours as he registers your reaction.
“That sounds like fun. As long as you’re sure my dad hasn't spooked you,” you joke half-heartedly.
“You kidding? After I took a bat to a Demogorgon right in front of you, you don't think I can handle your dad being a little protective?” Steve scoffs playfully.
“A little?” You question with a smirk.
“Okay, a lot protective,” He concedes with a dramatic little shake of his head.
You watch the front of his soft-looking hair bounce with the movement. It strikes you how pretty he is in the dull glow of the television. You find it a little unfair how pretty he is in every setting. As nerves settle in you look back to the television.
“Are you sure you don't mind?” You ask more seriously, “I know it’s a lot to deal with. I get it if you'd rather just stay friends.”
Steve brings his hand up. His finger crooks and finds the underneath of your chin. He uses it to guide your face to look at him. When your wide eyes meet his intense ones he doesn't stop guiding you. He meets you halfway, stealing a sweet gentle kiss. Butterflies flutter around your gut as his tender lips move against yours. It’s over far too soon, but he keeps his forehead on yours.
“I like you too much to just stay friends. I’m okay doing whatever it takes to be with you,” he states firmly like it's a fact.
Another smile crawls onto your face. 
“I’m really glad you said that because I like you too much to just stay friends too,” you tell him softly.
He grins as his hooded eyes look into yours. This close in the dark they look so deep, his pupil and irises still fully distinguishable but the color is clearly rich. Rich in a way that gets lost in the low lighting.
“When can I take you out again?” he asks quietly.
“We probably can't do anything romantic too publicly, but it wouldn't be too hard for me to sneak out at night,” you say innocently.
“Won't your dad kill you if he finds out?” Steve’s eyebrows furrow.
From this close, you only know that because you can feel him do it.
“Well- yeah, but I have the benefit of something you, unfortunately, don't, my dear Steve,” you tease.
“And what’s that?” 
“Siblings.”
“How does that help?” 
You chuckle.
“They’ll cover for me if I need it in a pinch,” you explain.
Steve’s smile returns.
“Is tomorrow too soon?” he asks, trying to make it sound enough like a joke to pass it off as one if need be.
He’s terrified of coming on too strong. It’s just that when Steve likes someone he does it with his whole chest. He loves emphatically and that's not for everyone. Although, no one is talking about love right now. Definitely not, that would be far too soon. Steve fancies himself a pretty intuitive guy, though. He can feel the potential there. A seed in need of watering and tending until it blooms into something beautiful.
“Tomorrow’s not soon enough,” you answer, “but it’ll have to do.”
You wake Robin up when the credits roll on the screen. She’s a little moody about it but gets over it quickly. It’s half past ten so Steve brings Robin home first. With her out of the car you move to the front. The entire way back to your house Steve’s hand rests on your thigh, heavy and warm. When the house comes into view it slinks away leaving your skin to miss it.
It doesn't surprise you in the slightest to see your dad on the porch smoking. You roll your eyes at the sight, not caring if he can see. The clock in Steve's car reads a quarter to eleven. Steve got you home with fifteen minutes to spare. 
“Is ten too late for tomorrow?” You ask, suddenly feeling shy.
What if he wasn't being serious about tomorrow? The insecurity gets you talking again.
“My dad has night duty, but he’ll think I’m in bed so there's no reason for him to leave the station,” you explain quickly.
Steve is nodding before you finish.
“Ten sounds perfect. Should I park down the street?”
“Yeah, near the end by the sign,” you confirm.
“It’s a date,” he grins.
Your face catches fire for the millionth time tonight. You're grateful it's too dark for your dad to tell from the porch. 
“Have a good night,” you tell him softly.
You resist the urge to kiss him. You resist the urge to even just hug him knowing you have an audience.
“Have a good night.”
When you slip from the beemer a sigh escapes your lips. You wish your dad wasn't so… Well, your dad. The thing is, you also know him. It’s hard and takes time, but you can change his mind. Maybe you can even recruit Joyce in the effort, speed up the process. You'll have to ask Jonathan and Will if they think she’d help or just tell your dad about you and Steve.
“You have a good night?” Your dad asks as he puts out his cigarette.
“Yeah, it was fun. Actually, they invited me to do it every week,” you answer happily.
He nods as you two head inside.
“And Harrington will be driving you every week?” He asks.
“Yes, unless you’re going to magically pull a car from somewhere,” you answer.
He shoots you a deadpan look.
“Alright. Don't forget, I have night duty tomorrow,” he reminds you.
“I know, dad. Don't worry, I plan on coming home right after work anyways. I don't have anything to do tomorrow,” you tell him.
You ignore the tiny seed of guilt that drops in your stomach. You don't like lying to your dad, but he doesn't leave you much choice. A sturdy hand finds the back of your head. He pulls your head forward and plants a slightly too-rough kiss on your forehead. It's gruff, prickly, and warm just like him. For a second you feel like a kid again, before everything went to shit. 
“Sleep tight,” he tells you.
“Sleep tight,” you smile tightly.
Jonathan is awake reading and listening to music on his walkman. The movement of you coming in draws his attention. He pulls down his headphones until they rest around his neck. Slow rock leaks from the speakers.
“Hey,” he greets.
“Hey, I’m glad you're up. I actually have a pretty big favor to ask,” you say.
He regards you suspiciously. The two of you aren't close by any means. It took weeks to have a civil conversation when you're in the bedroom together. There was a territorial showdown that nearly tore the house apart.
“What is it?” He questions slowly.
“I’m going to sneak out tomorrow night after my dad goes to work. I just need you to leave the window cracked so I can get back in and to make sure no one knows I’m gone,” you say.
“Oh, is that all?” He scoffs, “No way. I’m not getting murdered when your dad finds out you snuck out.”
“He won't find out. Please, Jonathan, I wouldn't ask if it wasn't really important to me,” you all but beg.
His eyes narrow on you as you sit on your bed. 
“What are you sneaking out for?” 
“I’m seeing Steve.”
He snorts humorlessly.
“So, you want to die,” he says mostly to himself.
Realizing this isn't going your way, you set your jaw and straighten out your shoulders. You sigh and click your tongue.
“Y’know, it's a shame…,” you begin absently.
“What is?” He takes the bait.
“How long you're going to be grounded when I tell my dad and Joyce about the stash under your bed,” you shrug.
If looks could kill, you’d most definitely be dead. 
“How do you-”
“You’re really not as subtle as you think,” you laugh.
He exhaled sharply through his nose.
“Fine,” he snaps.
The headphones are back over his ears in a second.
“Thank you,” you sing.
That night you curl into bed buzzing with anticipation. Steve doesn't care if it's a little hard to be with you. He doesn't care if your dad is difficult and overprotective. He likes you enough to try anyway. You only hope you can change your dad’s mind about him before his patience runs out.  
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Jonathan is bitter about you sneaking out, but you don't care. Everyone is home for dinner, making it a raucous affair of arms reaching over the table to fight for food even though there's more than enough to go around. You swear Jonathan starts fighting with you over the last drumstick just to get back at you for your blackmail.
“You’ve already had three,” he protests.
“So have you!” you shout back incredulously, gesturing wildly.
“Yeah, but I eat more.”
“Really? Why is that?” You challenge him cruelly.
He glares at you, seething from across the table.
“You’re such a-” he starts.
“Alright,” your dad loudly interrupts and snatches the drumstick off the plate, “Now it’s mine. Problem solved.”
Both of you grumble and sink back into your seats like a couple of children. Will and El, the actual children at the table, exchange amused looks as they fight off laughter. 
“How has work been?” Joyce asks you pleasantly.
She’s completely unphased by your dad’s tantrum in response to your own. You suppose she's probably used to the Hopper family antics at this point. 
“It’s been fine,” you shrug, “there's a supervisor position opening up. I was thinking of going for it.”
“That’s great!” Joyce beams. 
It makes you feel warm in your chest.
“Supervisor? Won't that put you full-time? What about college? I thought you were starting next semester,” your dad grills.
It’s a struggle not to roll your eyes, but you succeed. 
“Yeah, I’m thinking of extending my gap year,” you shrug like it isn't a big deal.
Joyce cringes a little but attempts to maintain her smile. Jonathan, Will, and El all look between you and your dad.
“Really? When did you decide that?” Your dad questions.
“Does it really matter? It’s what I want to do,” you defend.
“Is this because Steve isn't going to college?” He’s outright interrogating you at the dinner table now.
“Jim,” Joyce warns softly.
He looks at her with an incredulous smile.
“What?”
She tucks her chin in a tad and gives him a look. 
“For your information, no it's not because of Steve,” you snap, “I don't even know his plans for the fall. What’s your issue with him?”
“Nothing!”
“No, clearly there's something! You have such a weird thing about me and Steve. Why are you so afraid of me being friends or getting into a relationship with him?” You demand.
“Because I've seen what it looks like when a Harrington loves someone,” he shouts, “It’s usually black and blue!”
Anger rises hot and red to your cheeks. Your heart pounds in your chest. The air around the table is so tense it's hard to move.
“You’re unbelievable,” you shout back and shove away from the table.
“Where are you going?” he calls after you.
“To bed. Have a good night at work,” you slam your bedroom door shut behind you. 
“Jim,” Joyce sighs.
“What?” He asks defensively.
“Steve really isn't that bad,” Will comments gently, “He’s friends with Dustin.”
“I think Steve is a fine guy,” Hopper states, “But I've seen the kind of relationships he grew up around.”
“That doesn't mean Steve is anything like John,” Joyce reasons.
Hopper’s jaw flexes as he clenches.
“Yeah, well, I’m not willing to take the chance,” he answers gruffly.
Jonathan is the one that gets the conversation moving forward. They try to enjoy the rest of their dinner while Hopper seeths and you blast music from your bedroom. Thirty minutes later Jonathan comes in and shuts off your stereo.
“Hopper and mom went to work,” he informs you.
“Thanks,” you sigh.
You can feel Jonathan’s eyes on you as you collect your things.
“What?” you ask shortly, not stopping.
“Nothing,” he quickly snaps before relaxing a little, “Mom tried talking to him after.”
“Yeah?” You snort humorlessly, “What’d she say?”
“She was on your side. Told him you don't have to go to college if you don't want to.”
You reply with a simple hm.
“When will you be back?” he sighs.
“Around midnight.”
“Okay- just… be safe.”
You turn with everything you need in your pockets. Your eyebrows are nearly in your hairline as you take in Jonathan. He sits on his bed, hands in his lap. His hair has gotten long and shaggy in a way that makes you want to cut it.
“Careful, I might think you care about me,” you tease.
He rolls his eyes.
“You might be annoying, but you’re family,” he says.
A small smile creeps onto your lips. You give him a playful punch in the upper arm. He rubs it and makes a disgruntled face at you. 
“Love you too, bro.”
You nearly eat dirt on your way out of the window, but you make it unscathed. With a wide smile, you trot down the street where you see Steve’s beemer waiting beneath a streetlamp. The door is unlocked when you get there allowing you to slip in easily. Steve’s lips are on yours before you can say hi. His hand cups your face as he presses his lips urgently to yours.
You’re downright giggling when he pulls away. It's embarrassing.
“Hello to you too,” you murmur. 
“Hello,” he murmurs back with a sweet smile.
Steve takes off after that. His hand is on your thigh again. This time you find the courage to intertwine your hand with his. He flashes a smile at you when you do so. Hawkins has never felt so perfect. It's like a scene from a movie as you steal glances at Steve as often as you can. 
“Where are you taking me, Harrington?” You ask with teasing suspicion.
“I know this spot by Lovers Lake. Figured we could just hang out,” he shrugs, attempting to hide his insecurity.
“Not enough room for the two of us in that big house of yours?” you chuckle.
His eyes shift uncomfortably.
“My parents are home right now. I’m sorry if you thought-”
“No, no, Steve, it's fine. I was just teasing. As long as we get to spend time together, I don't care where we end up,” you promise.
His soft eyes fall on you as he stops at a sign. Before he could allow himself to fall in too deep too fast, he clears his throat.
“Speaking of parents,” he says and starts driving again, “How’d it go with yours?”
You groan and roll your eyes dramatically. 
“I told him I don't plan on going to college. You can imagine how that went,” you tell him.
Steve grimaces as he pulls off onto a dirt road. It’s bumpy, but Steve isn't driving for long. You end up parked on a little overlook of the lake. Moonlight ripples across the surface giving the water the appearance of a night sky below you. Steve’s seat belt is off so he can angle himself to look at you fully. You mirror him. Gentle music trickles from the radio too low for you to really make out what it is.
“I take it he wasn’t too happy with that then?” Steve raises his eyebrows in sympathetic curiosity.
“He doesn’t seem too happy with me in general lately,” you sigh and begin picking at your fingers in your lap.
His hand takes yours to stop the anxious movement. The action draws your gaze. Steve is half frowning, thumb rubbing circles into the skin of your hand.
“He’s just worried. I kinda get it, y’know? You’re his kid and he isn’t ready for you to grow up,” he reasons.
“It doesn’t matter if he’s ready,” you frown, “He was so annoying tonight. I actually left dinner and locked myself in my room.”
Steve leans over and gives your temple a quick comforting kiss.
“My mom asked me how school was today,” Steve huffs a laugh. 
You wrinkle your nose.
“How old does she think you are?” You ask.
“Seventeen apparently.”
“Is she always so detached?” 
There’s something sad in his puppy dog eyes when they find you. The corners of his lips twitch in a sardonic little gesture.
“Yeah, she’s pretty spaced most of the time,” he answers quietly.
“And here I am complaining that my dad pays too much attention,” you joke.
It earns you a soft chuckle from him.
“At least my mom doesn’t stake out side roads she knows I’ll be driving on,” he teases back.
You throw your head back as you laugh. Steve grins as he watches, drinking in every last detail. His eyes drag over the silhouette of your nose and jawline in the moonlight. You’re so soft, yet there’s a bite about you. It draws him in and leaves him always wanting more, more, more. It leaves him reaching out to brush the hair from your face. Then the hair is tucked away, but he continues to skirt the backs of his fingers over your cheek. He can feel the warmth rise to them. Your face moves into his touch as you turn to look at him.
“Steve?” You probe so quietly that you aren’t sure he hears you.
“Yeah?”
“My dad said something tonight and… I think it might take more than we thought to win him over,” you admit.
Steve’s brows furrow as his eyes searches yours.
“What did he say?”
You take an even breath.
“He’s afraid, because of y-your dad, that you’ll-”
“Stop,” Steve closes his eyes and shakes his head, “Don’t say it.”
You don’t. Instead, you lean over the center console and throw your arms around his shoulders. Steve immediately melts into your embrace, circling his own arms around you and burying his face in your neck.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper.
He shakes his head the best he can in his current position. Then he’s pulling back, hands holding either side of your head. His eyes bore into you.
“I’m not like my dad. I wouldn't ever do what he does,” he promises.
There's no need to ask what it is Steve’s dad does. You've gathered enough context clues tonight to piece it together. Your hands come up to cover Steve’s.
“I know,” you tell him, “I trust you. You’re a good person, Steve Harrington.”
Steve can feel how lovesick his smile is. Your voice and words are a salve on wounds rubbed raw. You worry your lip between your teeth for a moment before continuing to speak.
“Does your dad ever do that to you?” You inquire softly.
“Not since I started fighting back,” he answers with a sad smile. 
“I’m so sorry,” you say because you don't know what else there is to say.
You hate that Steve has had to go through so much and always has it overlooked. You hate that your dad thinks Steve could be anything like this father. All he’s ever been is kind and gentle with you. 
“Let’s just forget about everything else tonight,” he suggests with a voice like silk, “There’s just us.”
It's a request you're more than willing to oblige. Especially when Steve’s lips find yours in a fury. It's more heated than anything the two of you have done until now, but it feels so fucking good. Steve’s hands are wide and thick as they tangle in your hair and hold the base of your neck. Your own hands explore Steve’s firm chest and shoulders over his shirt. The two of you together are the flame of a candle, flickering hot and quick. 
Steve moans when you nip at his lip, allowing you to become acquainted with his tongue. It’s all so much and not enough. Everything around you is all Steve. There's nothing but Steve. He leans over the console more, hands moving to find your sides and running down them until they meet the hem of your shirt. His hands skirt around the thin layer of skin exposed by your shirt riding up. A shiver of want runs through you. You nod as his mouth continues to devour yours. Steve’s hands leave trails of heat licking up your skin as they commit every inch to memory.
You’re ready to take it further. You want Steve in every way. You want him until he’s all there is. It doesn't matter if you’re in his car out by the lake. All that matters is it's you and Steve and Steve seems to want you just as much. You muster up the courage and start to palm where his pants have grown noticeably tighter.
Just as Steve is moaning into your mouth there’s a clink clink clink on the driver's side window. The two of you fly apart, snapping to see the source of the noise, and then looking back at each other completely panicked.
“C’mon, Steve, the windows aren't that steamed up. I know it's you,” a familiar voice drones.
You groan and drop your face in your hands. The voice itself brings relief, but not a lot. Steve rolls down the window and a flashlight clicks on, blinding both of you.
“Christ- Uncle Phil, can you quit it with that?” Steve complains and shoves the flashlight away.
The light clicks off revealing a curly head of brown hair and a pair of glasses you know all too well.
“Hey, Callahan,” you greet meekly with a small wave.
“No- no,” he groans, briefly throwing his head back with his hands covering his face, “Not Little Hopper! Steve, do you have a death wish?”
“Please, don't tell my dad,” you beg quickly.
Callahan’s eyes slide between the two of you. His tongue is firmly in his cheek as he takes in the sight of his nephew moments away from having sex with his boss’s kid. 
“You two are putting me in a real tough position here,” he sighs, shaking his head.
“We know. That’s why we would be super grateful if you didn’t tell Hopper anything,” Steve says.
Callahan levels Steve with a stare for a moment before his eyes move to you. Your heart is thumping at the speed of sound in your chest. It wouldn't be surprising if you dropped dead of a heart attack right now. This man who you’ve known for years, who has watched you at the station and played Uno with you, who has been like family in a lot of ways has your life in his hands. It’s unfair for everyone involved. 
“I’ve been fearing the day I find you in someone’s car like this,” he tells you with a wry smile, “If it had to happen, I’m happy it's with Steve. At least I know you’re safe.”
A timid smile tugs at your lips. 
“Does that mean you won't tell?” You ask quietly.
He lets out a deep heavy breath and shakes his head.
“I won't say anything,” he points sternly at you, “but it better not get back to your dad that I knew about this.”
You and Steve nod. Steve even gives his uncle a salute. 
“So, are you gonna…,” Steve trails off, gesturing with his eyes for his uncle to leave.
“Yeah, right,” Callahan snorts, “You two are going home and brainstorming ways to be more discreet. Separately, no sneaking each other into anyone’s houses.”
Steve rolls his eyes but agrees. He’s in no position to argue with his uncle right now. Callahan pulls out enough for Steve to get you guys out of there. He flashes his lights once as a goodbye. The silence of the car threatens to suffocate you. Steve stops the car the turn before your street. You can feel his eyes on you as you squeeze your hands together in your lap.
“You okay?” He asks softly.
“I’m okay. Are we?” You risk a glance.
The knit of his brow tells you he’s confused, maybe even a little worried.
“Of course we are. Why wouldn't we be?”
“I guess I was afraid that might have spooked you,” you shrug sheepishly. 
“It’ll take more than my Uncle Phil to spook me,” he smirks.
You chuckle and lean in to steal a quick kiss. He does it back like it's a competition he’s determined to win. You scrunch your nose and stick your tongue out at him. He returns the favor. The two of you break into giggles. Thoughts that bubbled to the surface this morning, and kept bubbling up every hour after that, make their grand reappearance. Does Steve want to take this to a more serious level like you do? Has he already decided to stop seeing other people like you have?
“I like you, like a lot,” you tell him with all the eloquence of a rock.
“I like you, like a lot, too,” he smiles.
“I have a crazy question that I just thought of right this moment,” you segue with an innocent smile.
“Oh, is that right? What's this totally not premeditated question?” He teases.
“What are we doing here exactly?” It comes out far timider than you’d like.
“What do you want to be doing here exactly?” he smirks knowing you're melting inside as he dances around an answer.
You give him an unimpressed frown that's fighting to be a smile.
“Personally, I think I'd like to call you my boyfriend,” you go for it and try not to hold your breath too much.
Steve’s smile becomes something dazzling. Mischief appears in the background of it, though.
“You think, huh? I dunno,” he sighs dramatically, “I only date people who are enthusiastic about dating me.”
You roll your eyes as the smile wins. 
“Oh, is that why you kept striking out at Scoops?” you tease.
He throws a pout your way.
“Maybe.”
“Well, Steve Harrington, I would be pretty enthused to call you my boyfriend,” you tell him with a sweet smile and even sweeter eyes.
“I’d be pretty enthused too,” he grins as he leans toward you.
He kisses you with almost as much passion as before. Pre-Callahan rudely interrupting. The two of you giggle into the kiss, causing you to pull apart but stay close.
“When will I see you again, boyfriend?” you hum.
“I have family stuff tomorrow after work, but my parents will be gone again Thursday. We could hang out at my place. Then movie night is Friday. It’s Rob’s turn to pick,” he answers.
“Five dollars says she picks Fast Times,” you smirk.
“Are you kidding?” he snorts, “I’m not taking a bet I know I’ll lose.”
You laugh, resting your forehead on his shoulder. When the giggles subside you bring your head up once more and find Steve’s impossibly warm gaze. He looks at you like you just invented laughter before his very eyes. It’s almost too much for you to handle. It makes you more afraid of losing this, of losing him, to your dad’s strictness.
“My dad will be home Thursday, but I don’t think Robin would mind covering for me for a few hours,” you say. 
“Should I get you from Rob’s?”
“That’ll probably be for the best.”
The two of you get stuck, trapped in a trance of gooey gazes and lovesick smiles. Anyone watching would gag at the sight. No one else matters to the two of you right now, though.
“You should get inside before Uncle Phil finds us again,” Steve sighs.
You nod.
Both of you surge forward to steal one last kiss. You don't think you’ll ever tire of the way Steve’s kisses make you feel. It’s like you’re static clinging to a freshly dried sweater, warm and buzzing with energy. Your foreheads stay together when you part. Your lips hover so close you could kiss again by accident.
“Goodnight, baby,” he murmurs 
The pet name brings heat to your cheeks as if there are hot coals beneath your skin. There’s a fluttering in your stomach that makes you shy.
“Goodnight,” you answer just as softly.
You steal the last peck before slipping from his beemer, winning the game for tonight. It's simple enough to get back inside. You round the side of the house to your window. It’s still cracked. You peek in first. Jonathan is listening to music on his walkman as he writes in his notebook. 
The window slides up easily. As you climb in, Jonathan shoots up pin-straight, breath noticeably heavier. Once it registers it's you he relaxes and slumps back down. He takes off his headphones.
“I thought you wouldn't be back until midnight,” he says, a hint of annoyance creeping in.
“Callahan caught us and sent us home,” you explain as you shut the window behind you.
“Callahan caught you? Why aren't you more freaked out by this?” He questions, furrowing his brows.
“Because I’ve known him like half my life and he’s Steve’s uncle. He promised not to tell,” you shrug. 
“He’s Steve’s uncle?” 
“Yeah, on his mom’s side. I saw them around the station a few times,” as you say it you suddenly wonder if they were at the station for another reason that went over your head until now. 
“How are you so lucky?” He scoffs and shakes his head.
“I dunno, nepotism?” 
Jonathan actually laughs. You ignore the skunky smell and take the win.
“So, when are you doing this again?” he jerks his chin up at you and crosses his arms.
“Thursday, but don't worry. Your services shouldn't be required then,” you answer jovially as you pick out pajamas to change into. 
“Wow, four whole days? How will you ever manage?” He drawls.
“Shut up. Steve’s parents are home. He has to do something with them.”
“Oh, that mayor thing probably.”
You pause and turn to look at Jonathan.
“Mayor thing?”
“Yeah,” he shrugs, “there’s some town award ceremony thing this week. Aren’t you going with your dad?”
“I am,” you nod slowly, “but why would Steve be there?”
Jonathan looks at you like you're stupid. Right now you're inclined to think maybe you are.
“Because his dad owns like half the town and wins at least two things a year,” he answers.
You inhale deeply and slowly, trying not to get too angry at yourself for forgetting. This stupid event that you always try to get out of, but couldn't this year. Your dad is winning something big apparently. That's not to say you're not proud of him, you are. This thing is just dreadfully boring. Steve being there makes things more interesting. More terrifying, sure, but more interesting nonetheless. 
“How do you even know all this, weirdo?” You question.
“The school newspaper,” he sneers, “We cover it in the first issue.”
 “Whatever, I’m going to get changed,” you grumble and leave the room.
The bathroom gives you the first moment alone to process everything tonight. When you catch your reflection in the mirror it's a little flushed, a little frazzled, but happy. Built-up energy comes out in the form of a little squeak and dance. Steve Harrington is your boyfriend. Steve Harrington is your boyfriend! Now, all you have to do is find a way to guarantee your dad won't kill him for it. 
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You and your dad fuss uncomfortably with the fancy clothes you've been out in. Joyce worries about all the finer details around you, swatting away your hands when one of you goes to pull on your collar or loosen a button. You have to admit, the Hoppers clean up well. They just hate getting cleaned up. It’s like giving a cat a bath.
“Oh, look at the two of you,” Joyce gushes, “We need to get pictures!”
Both you and your dad start to protest, but it's to no avail. She's already calling for Jonathan and his camera. He wears a smug smirk at your clear irritation. You shoot him daggers in return. 
“At least try to smile,” he tells you and your dad.
You look at each other. You have to look upward to meet his eyes. One thing you didn't inherit from your dad is his height. A look of resigned agreement passes between you before you’re smiling at the camera. Jonathan takes a quick succession of photos and you're allowed to leave. 
It feels funny being all dressed up in the chief's truck. This is the first time you've felt out of place in it. 
“So,” your dad starts awkwardly, “About college…”
“Dad,” you sigh and rub your eyes with one hand, “Can we please not do this tonight?”
“I’m not- I’m just-” he pauses and takes a breath to calm down before trying again, “What I’m trying to say is, if this supervisor thing is what you wanna do… Then do it.”
You watch him drive with wide eyes. 
“Really?” 
He nods.
“Yeah, really.”
“What made you change your mind?” Your hazard to ask.
“Don't get me wrong,” he waves a hand around, “I still want you to go to school and get an education, but… I want you to be happy more.”
His words cause a bright light of hope to flicker on in your chest. A small smile sprouts on your face. With a steadying breath to muster up the courage you take the dive. 
“I’m really glad you said that beca-” You start.
“God damn it,” your dad’s frustration cuts you off, “Harrington is already here.”
Your eyes snap forward. Sure enough, ahead of you in a rounded driveway is a shiny sleek black car. The apex of the driveway meets the front of a local event hall that’s been decorated to the nines. No doubt thanks to all that Harrington money. There are valets waiting to take everyone’s cars. 
Out of the car comes a well-groomed polished man in a suit. His hair is a short chestnut coif and he has dangerously green eyes that feel perpetually sharp. From the other side appears a woman with an elegant red dress. Her own dark hair is up in a fashionably loose bun. They don't smile at each other. In fact, they barely regard each other at all. They immediately jump into talking to those around them. 
Then he climbs out of the back. Steve is in a sharp black suit of his own and his brown hair has been perfectly blown out. His smile is unnaturally tight. It takes a massive amount of restraint to not fling your door open and run to him.
“Can you just be civil for tonight?” You sigh.
“I’m civil,” your dad argues lightly.
“Is that so? Then you won't mind me hanging out with Steve tonight,” you say knowingly.
Your dad’s grip tightens on the steering wheel. A ball of disappointment drops in your stomach. Any hope has been extinguished. Clearly, him caring about your happiness the most doesn't extend to Steve.
“Probably best to stay away while his old man is around,” he advises cryptically. 
“Why? Steve isn't his dad,” you snap without meaning to.
“Maybe not, but he’s always worse when he’s around. Callahan caught him with someone last night, y’know. I told you, guys like him don't change,” he half lectures. 
You look out your window as your face catches fire. 
“Whatever, Steve is my friend and I don't want to argue about it tonight,” you state.
Your dad sighs but doesn't carry it any further. He doesn't want to argue about it tonight either apparently. Steve disappears into the venue leaving you to watch after him. After a short wait, you finally get to the top of the curve and climb out of the car.
“Hey, Chief,” the kid working valet greets.
The chief truck stays in front of the building, but off to the side. Just in case some world-ending call comes in. Half the town is here and the other half wants to be. It's a nice excuse to dress up, have a few drinks, and eat a free meal. You’re most excited to steal looks at Steve. 
When you enter it's a grand room with circular tables arranged around a stage at the front. The back of the room has an extravagant bar where most people are mingling right now. The decorations are simple yet tasteful. The mayor, a young man the town elected to save them from all the crazy shit Hawkins seems to attract, shakes hands with his constituents around the room.
Some councilman starts talking to your dad. You’re introduced briefly then you’re just stuck standing there. This is the part you hate about these things. Just waiting around as your dad falls in and out of conversations. Bored, your eyes scan the room searching before you know it. 
Sticky sweet eyes, molten light brown that you know has green hidden near the middle like caramel apples, catch you from near the bar. Steve’s entire being brightens when he realizes you’re there. He smiles and sends you a discreet little wave. He’s so pretty it makes your teeth ache. You return both the smile and wave, already calculating how you can sneak off to say hello.
“I’m going to get a drink,” you say.
Your dad nods as the councilman continues talking his ear off. Whatever they're talking about, your dad doesn't seem especially interested. With him distracted, you easily make your way to the bar. You take care to stick to the opposite end as the Harringtons, but Steve’s eyes have already found you. He excuses himself and waves through all of Hawkins’ finest residents. The bartender comes up to where you're leaning on the bar with your forearms.
“What can I get for you?” he asks.
“Just a sprite, thanks,” you smile.
“Make that two,” Steve’s voice comes from behind you.
A wide grin spreads across your face as you turn around. You’re met with an expression similar to your own. 
“Why, Mr. Harrington, funny running into you here,” you muse.
“Mm, I’m considering it lucky. You look amazing,” he tells you as his eyes trail up and down your form.
“You look exceptionally handsome yourself.”
“I didn't know you’d be here,” he comments, still drinking you in.
Your face warms under his eyes.
“Normally I wouldn't, but I didn't have anything to get me out of it this year. What table are you guys at? We’re over at four,” you point at a round table near the front.
“We’re at one,” he points to a few tables away.
“Good, I think my dad would burst a blood vessel if he had to sit near yours tonight,” you attempt to keep it light, but the weight is still present.
“He won't burst one when he sees you over here talking to me?” he teases, helping to carry the load.
“Eh, he’ll survive,” you wave him off. 
“Sprites,” the bartender announces as he places the two glasses on the bar top. 
You reach for your wallet, but Steve’s hand catches your wrist.
“Put it on the Harrington tab, thanks,” he says.
The bartender nods and walks off. Steve’s hand stays on your wrist.
“So, there’s a coat check over in the entrance hall…,” you trail off suggestively, glancing to the doorway to the entrance hall.
Steve’s eyes follow yours and a smirk grows on his lips. His lips you wish you could kiss right in the middle of this stupid event.
“Meet you in twenty-” he begins to plan.
“Steve, there you are,” a deep voice sighs.
Steve goes stiff, straightening until he’s ramrod straight. Your eyes widen as they move to the man over Steve’s shoulder. Steve turns around, clenching his Sprite a little tighter than before. 
“Sorry, sir, I came to grab a drink and ran into a friend,” he says, but his voice is different.
He’s different. His hands move less, barely at all. The inflection of his voice is more proper, professional almost. Your eyebrows furrow as you stare at the back of his head. 
“Who is this friend?” His father asks, sounding tired.
“We work at the mall together,” Steve explains.
“Right, the mall,” his father states disdainfully.
“Steve is a really good worker,” you pipe in, attempting to back Steve up.
Both men’s eyes turn to you. Steve’s are soft and tender, but the gentleness of them is cut through by the sharpness of his father’s. His father sizes you up, but it's unlike anything you've experienced. You don't feel like he's looking at you, but all the price tags attached to the things you own and wear. It's as if his eyes are calculating your value. You feel like a burger from Benny’s compared to Steve’s fine dining at Enzo’s. 
“And who is it you belong to?” he questions with narrowed eyes.
“Oh- uh-” you stutter.
“John,” your dad’s curt voice saves you.
All eyes go to your dad. 
“Jim.”
He stands taller than John Harrington and thicker. His eyes are stony and his mouth is set. The two men hold each other’s gaze like dogs readying for the other to launch. Your dad’s eyes soften when they land on you behind the Harrington men. They create a wall between you. A wall you desperately want your dad to break through. This situation has gotten itchy and uncomfortable very fast.
“You okay?” he checks.
“Yeah, I just ran into Steve while getting my drink,” you answer with a small smile, holding up the drink in question.
Your dad nods, resetting his jaw. His eyes fall on Steve. Steve who, to his credit, is trying to convey as apologetic a look as he can get away with in front of his own father. He tries to communicate that he doesn't want you around John Harrington anymore than your dad does. You aren't sure it works.
“It’s good to see you, Chief,” Steve smiles tightly.
“Yeah, you too,” your dad replies unconvincingly.
“So, how've you been, Jim? How’s- uh- Diane, is it?” John inquires.
Now it’s your turn to go completely stiff. The mention of your mother sends your heart racing and your stomach plummeting. You look at your dad, panicked and worried. Steve catches the shift. Your dad has gone completely cold. He glares at John, jaw flexing as he restrains himself. There’s no way John doesn't know… right? It feels like everyone in Hawkins knows the tragedy of the Hoppers. A tragedy that split them up and sent half of them back home to Hawkins. 
“Fine,” your dad answers short and hot before looking at you, “Let’s go find our table.”
You don't argue. You don't even speak. You simply nod and shoot Steve a shy smile as you shuffle past him. John Harrington’s eyes are heavy on you, but you don't acknowledge them. Your dad casts a solid arm over your shoulder, sheltering you from the Harrington men. Then he’s ushering you away. The only noise comes from the people around you blissfully unaware of the tension stretching between the Hoppers and the Harringtons. Little cards on the table with your names on them aren't hard to find. The two of you take your seats.
“Dad,” you start quietly, “I’m really sorry.”
Your dad fixes you with a tired smile.
“Nothing to be sorry for. You were just saying hi to a friend, right?” He raises his eyebrows slightly.
You have to swallow the lump of guilt in your throat before responding.
“Right,” you nod, “His dad came over right when we got our drinks.”
He sighs and runs a hand down his face. The gesture skews some of his mustache hair.
“Look, if you’re going to be friends with Steve, fine,” he says evenly, “But I don't want you anywhere near John Harrington.”
“Okay,” you agree without hesitation.
Your dad smiles warmly at you. The trust he casts over you only makes your skin crawl. Are you the worst kid in the world? It’s starting to feel that way.
“I’m sorry he mentioned mom,” you attempt to assuage some of your guilt.
“Don't be,” he sighs, “He knew what he was doing.”
A beat of silence passes over you. Anxiously, you sip your drink.
“I… I haven't talked to her, y’know. Since she…,” you can't finish the thought.
“You should,” he tells you, “You should call her soon.”
You furrow your brows at him. That wasn't what you had been expecting from him.
“Why?” 
“Because she’s your mother. I’m sure she would like to hear from you.”
A short puff of air exits your nose as you cross your arms.
“She’s someone else’s mother too now. I’m sure she’s busy,” you answer bitterly.
Your dad sighs once more, running a hand down his face again. 
“You can't stay mad at her forever,” he reasons.
“But you can?” 
“That's different we’re- She’s your mother. It’s different.”
“She was my mother. You two aren't the only ones who lost someone. You aren't the only ones that get to be mad at each other for everything. I was there too, I experienced it too,” you snap quietly enough to only be heard by him.
His features soften at that. He nods solemnly. His heavy hand clamps comfortingly on your shoulder with a squeeze before retreating back to the table.
“Are you doing that movie night thing with Steve and your tuba friend?” he asks.
You chuckle and roll your eyes.
“Robin and I will be going to Steve’s on Friday, yes. His parents will be gone again by then. He wouldn't have us over otherwise,” you reply. 
“Good.”
“He was trying to keep me from him,” you tell him, picking at a spot on the white tablecloth.
“Good,” he echoes.
“Does that mean you’re going to stop being so crazy about me and him?” you raise your eyebrows at him.
His mouth flattens into a line.
“I’m okay with you being friends, but there are rules,” he lifts a finger to start listing, “One, no hanging out alone unless it's in public. Two, you don’t go there if his parents are home. Three, he only comes over when I’m home.”
“Anything else?” You half-joke.
He levels you with a serious look.
“Just… Be honest with me. I just want to know you're safe.”
If you didn't know any better you’d think the whole world is crashing around you. Fuck, you feel god awful. Your dad’s voice mixes with the ghost of Callahan’s in your head. At least I know you’re safe, Callahan had said when finding you with Steve. I just want to know you’re safe. You force a smile that you hope is convincing.
“Yeah, of course,” you say, “There aren't any secrets between us.”
He smiles, the corners of his mustache lifting up in the way they do when it's really genuine. He gives you a loving shoulder squeeze. You struggle to hold back your nausea. There aren't any secrets between us. Maybe at one time that was true, but certainly not anymore.
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Rule One >>
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186 notes · View notes
bucknastysbabe · 1 year
Text
Kink Bingo - Free Space (C*ckw*rm*ng)
Rating: Explicit
Tags: TW PTSD/Nightmares, Tommy’s guilt, panic attacks, fluff fluff fluff, cockwarming, his gf hypes T up, all luved up, doggy style, getting railed and then made breakfast, set in Jackson
A/N: short n sweet
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The things he and Joel did.
Cold sweats and nightmares didn’t happen as often the longer he’d been in Wyoming. But some nights the man couldn’t wake from the memories. Smell of blood and gunpowder— noises non-infected shouldn’t make. They didn’t care. It was in the name of survival. Canis canem edit, dog eat dog. Tommy’s chest tightened again, flashes of the fear of someone’s life draining out in their frantic orbs. He needed to get up, take a walk, a trip, something.
“Tom? You good baby?,” came her sleepy voice. 
Tommy relaxed a bit at her sweet voice. His baby never failed to make him feel grounded. The tether from letting him float off into a miasma of guilt. He gruffed, “Nothin’ sugar, just gettin’ some water. Want any?” She turned over with a sleepy sigh, bleary eyes gazing up at his own dark orbs. Her lips downturned, a slight furrow in her brow.
“Stay here. I’ll get the water, okay?”
Tommy gulped around his arid throat, body unable to move. He felt paralyzed, grunting his assent in the quiet room. She rustled the plaid covers and padded to the kitchen, Tommy’s eyes roving her stark form, locks swishing in the moonlight. He’d go back to the dark times for her— deciding to lock that thought away for later.
She returned with a big glass of water, perching on the side of his bed. Her eyes were kind as she took in his stricken impression, murmuring, “I’m sorry baby.” She grabbed the glass and held it to Tommy’s dry lips. He gulped the cool drink down, pausing to draw a wet breath. She cooed, rubbing his trim chest, “That’s it, you’re not there anymore sweets. Breathe. Breathe Tommy.”
Tommy tried to breathe, really did. He pulled her flush to his body, crushing the poor thing in his embrace. He couldn’t help the tears slide down his cheeks. The man cried, “Am I even worth it? Worth all this?” She gazed up and nuzzled his cheek, stating softly, “Your past doesn’t define you baby. You’re good. Good to the people, the town, to Joel and Ellie.” She pressed a dry kiss to his cheek, “You’re real good to me. Third place I’d been by, starving, close to death and you decided to take me in,” she patted his cheek, “You’re a damn fine man Tommy Miller and I love you.”
He tearily smiled, lamely joking, “You always gotta’ make me cry.” She hummed, stroking his hair, “Someone’s gotta. Can’t be big protector of Jackson all the time babe.” Her mouth grew closer to his as she whispered, “S’okay to be soft. I won’t tell.” Tommy warbled, “I love you,” and kissed his woman passionately, arms snaked round tighter. He spread his thighs to slot her in, savoring her natural essence.
They kissed softly for what felt like ages, simply holding and loving on eachother. Tommy cooed and praised her glory. She reached down to palm his stiff cock, mumuring, “Nightcap? Might help you sleep.” Tommy clenched his jaw in thought. He really just wanted to be closer to her tonight, joined as one.
He gruffed, “Think ya’ can just, uh, join me. Lay together, together I mean.” She smiled softly, moonlight catching on her cheeks, a painting of an angel. She cocked her head and crooned, “Sure honey. We can do that.” She reared up and guided Tommy’s flush cock to her slick core, quietly mewling his name. The man gasped and held to her as she seated herself and flipped them to the side, full and sated.
Tommy pressed kissed to the nape of her neck, purring, “Thank ya’ sugar. So good to me.” She turned to give him another kiss, chiding, “C’mon and relax now Miller. Let’s get some sleep.” Tommy was off to sweet oblivion in no time, breathing evening out.
By the time the sun filtered through the curtains, Tommy was awoken by a wonderful noise. A frustrated little moan of his name. Taking inventory, Tommy’s reignited cock was deep inside of her twitching pussy. It was slick too, good god. He rasped, “Mornin’ sugar.” She rolled back onto his cock, pussy swollen and needy.
The girl begged, “Fuck baby, woke up all needy- C’mon, c’mon so wet for you. Tommy please!” Her nails gripped at his sinewy arms wrapped round her squirmy waist. Tommy chuckled, “I gotcha’, least I could do,” he patted her ass, “On your belly baby.” She moaned loudly at the loss, presenting eagaerly. Tommy groaned as he stretched, moving to face her need.
He slid a calloused thumb through her copious slick, cursing, “Gaht-damn baby you’re a mess.” She peered back at him with teary eyes, “Pleasplease Tommybaby!” Tommy grinned and lined his pelvis up to hers, sliding his cock in. He cursed again at the tight slick, gripping her ass to hold himself. Down boy.
Feeling energized from decent sleep last night Tommy went at it, fucking her in deep thrusts, so loud the floor shook and squelches filled the morning air. She tore at the pillow, whining like a damn bitch in heat. Hell, he felt like he was in rut. He rasped, “Shit honey, so sweet, squeezin’ me real good.” He swatted her bouncing ass.
“All for you, so good!,” she howled.
If Tommy cared, he’d be embarrassed for the neighbors, but alas he didn’t give a fuck. Not with this tight little thing under him. The elder yanked at her hair, biting and sucking down her nape. He growled, “Good pretty little slut for your old man. You just love it dont’cha?” Tears streaking her pretty face she wailed, “Yes! Fuck yes!”
Tommy yanked her hair in one hand, didn’t miss a fucking thrust, and dug down to rub her obscenely swollen clit. That sent the sweetie into a frenzy, caterwauling and squeezing, legs shaking violently. Tommy bit down on his lip to keep quiet when she milked him clean up. He yanked his cock out, splattering hot seed on her quivering ass and back. He patted her on the cheek again, cooing.
“Thas’ what ya’ needed. Get my girl all tuckered out.” He pressed a kiss to her sweaty cheek and said, “You stay here n’ rest, hows’at sound?” Her smile and slur filled his heart, “Ngmm-pls” he hopped like a damn bunny.
He leant over to give her swollen lips a peck, murmuring, “How ‘bout breakfast huh, just take a breather sweetie.”
“N’uhokay,” she slurred.
Tommy ignored the usual morning aches and pains, hopping like a bunny to cook for his love. His sweet, kind love who gave him hope.
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silurisanguine · 3 months
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Sunday Snippet
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thanks to @therealgchu for the tag. im tagging the Coemancer Crew as usual, plus ANYONE else who'd like to share what they are working on. This is from the upcoming chapter to Chasing Your Star Until I Reach Home.
Seren opened her eyes to the familiar sight of her own body being cradled by Vlad as always. ”Barely stepped on the journeyman’s road with us. Cant see another soul off to the void so soon….” She didn’t even speak, just turned sadly, even though she knew what she was seeing wasn’t real. That that wasn’t Vlad and it wasn’t the Eye she stood on. Instead she walked towards the anomaly, leaving the vision of grief behind her. She came out to find both Ren and Sam gripping the rails of the lift in silence and waited till the lift came to a halt at the bottom. Sam turned and looked at Ren who had tears falling down her eyes and closed the gap, pulling her into a tight hug. He let go after a moment, holding Ren at her shoulders for a moment before she nodded to him and he turned to Seren, tears visible in his own eyes. ”I saw myself, lying there dead as you said I would, Barrett holding my body and Ren crying at my side…Cora was cryin too but she was yelling at Ren…saying awful things… Seren's breath came out in a shudder as the memory of her past came crashing back to her, the sound echoing through her helmet into the opening of the cavern. ”That’s what actually happened in yours isn’t it? I’m so sorry” He moved forward when she nodded, pulling Seren into an embrace and for a moment she froze, not wanting to feel that familiar warmth she couldn’t keep. But instinctively her arms came up to hold his oh so familiar body, her helmeted head sagging against his shoulder, losing herself for a brief moment in a comforting feeling. After what seemed like ages, he pulled back, mirroring the same as he did with Ren, holding Seren by her shoulders. She looked up, her visor opaque again and she saw the pain in Sam’s eyes that he couldn’t see her face, but she couldn’t let him see the anguish in her eyes, not with the fight they had to deal with next.
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thewolvesof1998 · 10 months
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WIP Wednesday
Alright, Cowboy, Go get ‘em
Rodeo/Bull Rider AU WIP
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Not tagged by anyone but here's a little snippet of chapter two!
Chapter one is already up and this is my master list of all my posts about this fic.
Buck could not stop thinking about Eddie Diaz and his brown eyes, sinful lips and well, his cock. He couldn’t stop thinking about the words Eddie’d whispered in his ear before he left Buck aching and hard after just coming minutes beforehand:
I can’t wait for next Saturday so I can fuck you while you wear nothing but those chaps.
Every time he’d strapped on his chaps this week he’d almost gotten hard remembering those whispered words. Buck and his hand had gotten quite acquainted with each other since last Saturday. He was so distracted that his coach, Billy, yelled at him twice during training this week. Buck was used to a lot of hookups and one-night stands; Dan affectionately calls him a slut, so yeah, he’s not ashamed that he likes sex. Does he sometimes wish it would be more than just sex? Yeah, he’s human, connection would be nice but it just doesn’t happen for people like him, he’s used to that by now. Most of the time. 
Anyway, the point is that this hook-up with Eddie should be like the others, a good time but ultimately in a few days Buck can’t remember his name and in a few weeks his face. But Buck remembers Eddie in high-definition. 
How he’d looked at Buck under the brim of his hat in the bar. How his fingers had felt in Buck’s hair as he tugged him up into a kiss. How he’d look down at Buck, shirt open, panting as Buck took Eddie’d dick down his throat. How he’d rasped out that order for Buck not to come until he’d get to touch him. How Eddie’s come had tasted as he’d sucked it off Eddie’s thumb. How the mix of sweet and Buck’s own come had tasted on Eddie’s eight-pack. A fucking eight-pack!? I was in the best shape of my life and I still couldn’t achieve that. 
“Buckley,” Billy shouts over the sounds of the crowds and music, he looks like it’s not the first time he’s tried to get his attention, “where the hell is your head?”
“Sorry, I’m here” Daydreaming about getting railed by Eddie Diaz after my ride today. 
“Dan’s got Dakota ready for the grand entry, get your ass in the saddle.” 
“Yes, sir” 
Buck headed over to the starting area for the grand entry, the other competitors were already lined up on their horses. Buck beelined for Dan who was holding the reins of a horse the color of moonlight and an antithesis of the night sky; white with a star-like splattering of dark spots. Buck rubbed a hand down Dakota’s nose and held out a sugar cube for her. 
“You ready girl?” He whispers and she downs the cube, noses at his pocket that holds another one but when Buck doesn’t give it to her, she huffs in indignation, “It’s for after,” they do this dance every time and it usually settles his nerves before riding out into an arena packed full of yelling people. Today it does nothing for the fluttering of nerves in his stomach. 
Buck heads to her side, he places his left foot in the stirrup and swings himself up into the saddle. He adjusts himself before taking the reins from Dan. He sometimes forgets he’s only been riding for a year and a half with how natural it feels to be in the saddle but he always takes a minute to make sure he’s doing everything correctly. Doesn’t want to get anything wrong and disappoint his team. 
“You ready?” Dan asks, a sharp teasing smile on his face. He’s not asking about the grand entry or even the bull riding. Dan had pried Eddie Diaz out of Buck one night after a couple of drinks and he hasn’t stopped teasing him about it since. The glint in Dan’s eyes and the humorous tilt of his lips says he’s asking about Eddie, about seeing him again today. 
“Fuck off,” Buck says and Dan just chuckles as Buck’s cheeks warm and the nerves in his stomach double. I wonder if I’ll be able to see him in the crowd, feel him watching me Even just the thought of Eddie’s eyes on him has warmth pooling in his gut making the butterflies lethargic and turning the anxiety into syrupy anticipation.  
The problem is that Buck knows the signs and he knows he’s getting attached to Eddie, a man he’d only met once, they hadn’t even exchanged numbers. But Buck couldn’t help himself, no matter how many times he got burnt. 
He didn’t even know if he was actually going to show up, people say they will but then they’ll forget or freak out; especially guys and especially guys who go to the rodeo who are usually so far in the closet they’re in Narnia. Buck’s been out as bisexual since his first and only year of college when he and his roommate had hooked up after a frat party. 
Dan jokes that he’ll fuck anything on two legs, which he’s not wrong but Buck has to be careful picking up guys at the Rodeo. He’s ended up with a black eye or two for flirting with the wrong guy or the right guy but in front of the wrong people. He’d been surprised when Eddie had been the right guy, Buck had entered that near-empty bar, hyped up on adrenaline and he’d taken one look at the drop-dead gorgeous man at the bar and had gone a little silly. He’d ignored his usual ‘how to not get punched by homophobes’ checklist and when straight to flirting when those whiskey eyes had met his. Fuck, I’m so fucked. 
Let me know if you want to be tagged in any update to do with this fic by commenting or tagging it when u reblog!
No pressure tagging: @wildlife4life​ @prince-buck-diaz​
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lovecolibri · 27 days
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oh your tags on that one post are EVERYTHING:
#you want to love your child from a distance you do that by sending birthday and christmas cards #and sending letters and maybe having phone calls #you don't do it by cutting the child out of your life #and then making it all about yourself
like loving your kid from a distance doesn't mean much if they don't know about it. i was always annoyed about her lines about "maybe you've adapted to life without me, i hope for that and fear it" or whatever the exact lines were. like that is so freaking self centered and of course it's ok to feel that way but don't put it in the letter to your kid!
Hiiiiiiiiiiii *waves from 3 weeks down the line* Look what I found in my inbox that i forget to check especially now that my app is refusing to work at most things. ANYWAY. Yeah, I was confused when everyone was ooohhing about how sweet that letter was because to me it just felt so manipulative and a way to shift blame. I know I put in the tags of another great post about this the other day that Shannon needing time is understandable and needing to go be with her mom is understandable but cutting off ALL contact?? With her child??? Did she bar her mom from contacting her grandson?? Did her mom call and Chris and Eddie had to wonder why Shannon refused to speak to them? How many birthdays and holidays went by before they stopped checking the mailbox for a card? Did Shannon's mom still send cards and like the phone calls did they hope to see Shannon's name in them only to be disappointed she couldn't even sign a card for her child?
I've said it before and I'll say it again, I actually liked the arc in s2 because it paints SUCH a contrasting picture of a) Shannon and Eddie as parents, b) Eddie's trust in Shannon vs his trust in Buck with Chris, c) Shannon and Buck as co-parents, and d) Shannon and Buck as partners to Eddie. We get a LOT of milage out of just a few scenes! And an underrated moment, I think, is seeing that Eddie has abuela chaperoneing Shannon and Chris. But in season 3 we see Eddie being perfectly fine leaving Chris alone with Buck, including AFTER the tsunami. It speaks volumes to me!
And all of that is why I SO dislike the retconning KR tried to pull in s6, and I really hope we get to see more than just that letter "fixing" things for Chris. He's getting older now and I would love to see him and Eddie having some hard talks about what happened and how they both felt and working through some of that together. Maybe even some family therapy with them! Tim has so far been doing a good job of getting the show back on the rails and righting some wrongs ("I don't know what I was thinking dating a death doula" still cracks me up) and I would love if this is one of those things.
Thanks for stopping by! Sorry I am Bad At Tumblr Friends
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