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darthfighter · 3 months

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it’s you.. isn’t it?

Chapter Two of Your Shadow Series

warnings: violence, tension, & sexual tension if you squint 🫣

summary: since the encounter with the stranger, you stay on edge while trying to heal your wound from the night before. but it seems as though the man you met the day before can help you?

word count: 2.7k

authors note: part two is here!! i’m so excited to continue this series :) i have so many ideas for it. lots of hcs. future chapters will have smut in it don’t worry, just need to build development first.

part one here

Back against your bed, bottom numb from sitting for so long, and hands shaking on your lap. You have been alert since your encounter with this Stranger. You anxiously have been waiting for their return, but it has yet to come in the past fourteen hours. Meaning you haven't slept a wink this whole night. Now, it being morning, your stomach ached for food while your left arm throbbed in pain.

Your arm was still unhealed. Frustration was an understatement on how you were feeling. To be able to use the force, but only for a short amount of time due to your lack of experience with it lately, made you angry to no end. Healing your arm with your force wasn’t an option. Although that didn’t stop you repeatedly trying every thirty minutes. But no matter what, your arm was injured.

You could feel your anger burning in your chest. Never could you run away from your past no matter how much you stomp your feet. Healing never brought you any comfort even though that is its purpose. Flashes of your memory play in your mind as you are in your most vulnerable state. You remember your brother, laid on his bed in the room you both grew up in. His clothes are ragged and dirty and his hands calloused while he has oil under his fingers. He’s tired. But there you are. Young and in your clean Jedi robes. You tower over him in the bed feeling the sting in your heart like he personally dipped his hand through your skin, to your muscles, through your ribs, and tightened his grip on your heart. Your young hand hovers over him, shaking, while your brother laid, unmoving. You begin to heal him.

But here you are, older, hurt inside, and wounded outside. Incapable of healing yourself. You inhale through your teeth and hold your breath in anger. Hot tears leave your eyes. You know if you let yourself let go with your feelings, you won't be able to stop.

You take that as a signal to get off your ass to get something to eat and after your meal, you’ll find some medicine in town.

After your quick snack, you start to walk towards your small chest where you keep your credits. Thirty. Thirty credits is all you have. You haven’t been able to find a suitable job since moving to Olega, so you’ve been living off of your savings. You start to wonder what Maker forsaken place will even accept thirty credits for something to heal you. But looking for a place that will, is the only option you have.

You march outside your home, ready to scout the area.

Five places rejected your offer. Five places let you down. Five times have you almost broke down in disappointment. This took a toll on you. You have gotten to the point where you shuffle your feet through the dirt covered streets slowly. Feeling your motivation start to fade out of you. Your feet stop. You’re in the middle of the street, hungry yet again and still in pain. You start to contemplate if you should turn around and make your way home. Although that thought brought you fear at the mere chance of this Stranger returning once more.

A loud crash echoes through the street to your right. Your attention shifts to the sound to see the man you saw the day before in these streets. This time, he seems more lively than before. That being because he speaks before you do this time.

“Hello!”

You accept this greeting by walking towards him while holding your left arm with your right hand. Now, you stand before him in front of his shop. But before he can speak again, you ask a question. “Do you know a place nearby that has a reasonable price for medicine? Not too expensive.. I uh-” You finish the sentence by moving your hand to reveal your burn. The man responds with an over exaggerated wince.

“Actually..” The man walks back into his store while finishing his sentence inside “I have just the thing.” making the rest of his statement sound muffled.

You shake your head in amusement, but also feel the weight off your shoulders leaving knowing your mission to find medicine is now over.

Walking inside, you see all sorts of items. Gadgets, antiques, even weapons. Him rummaging through his cabinets and drawers is all you heard. While also listening to his quiet mumbling. “Just a second… I just had this.. damn thing..” His voice is low and smooth. The rummaging stops as he holds what he was looking for. He starts to walk towards you and motions you to sit on the counter.

“Right now? Shouldn’t I pay you first?”

“You can pay me after.”

“But you didn't say how much this is!”

“How many credits do you have?”

“Only thirty-”

“Perfect!”

He walks more towards you, you walk backwards and clash with the counter. Your heart begins to thump against your ribcage, and your nervous shaky hands hold you up so you can sit on the counter. Like he told you to.

He starts to make his way closer to you, positioning himself in front of you. Making this the closest he's ever gotten to you. His hand reaches your left arm, but before he rests his hand on it, he looks at you for approval. You nod your head softly and he gently touches your arm. He then pulls down your tear to give your injury more access to the bacta spray. Then, he sprays the bacta onto your arm making you flinch from the instant feeling it gives.

It felt cold. The cold that hurts.

You begin to slightly pull away from the spray and it makes him hold onto your arm tighter, to hold it in place. “Just for a bit more, I'm almost done.”

You swallow your pain while the man looks at your expression. As the spray scans your burn, he scans you with his eyes. You can feel his gaze on you, and you close your eyes to distract yourself.

“Alright. That should be all good now.”

He sets the bacta spray on the counter but his hand still lingers on your arm. Realizing this, you open your eyes to check in on your arm. He lets go and scans your whole arm this time. His eyes set on your hand.

“Looks like you already got one of these, huh?”

You pull down your sleeve in embarrassment. As well as the fact you don't want to explain to a random person that you got the scar in your padawan days.

“Thank you, for this. You have no idea how close I was to giving up. Everything is so expensive these days.” You lift your bottom off the counter to stand up. Now, you are close to the man and feel intimidation while also having a hint of curiosity in him.

You put your hand out for him to shake, and introduce yourself. His hand meets yours and you immediately feel something. It feels as though holding his hand felt like you were on the edge of a cliff. You feel energized. Your heart thumps against your chest. You look up to him and he has a certain look on his face. It’s like the one you saw before in the street.

“I’m Qimir.”

—

The best plan you can muster out of your head is to scout your own home on your neighbors roof. From this view you’ll be able to see the Stranger come inside your house. That is if they decide to come again tonight.

So here you are. With your black robes to help your disguise. Even though there were no people around you, you felt a bit silly on how paranoid you looked. Although you shut those feelings down remembering you are fearing for your life. You felt like it was justified at least a little bit.

Time passed and you started to feel yourself grow less alert. You scouted the area less and less, and let your blinks last a bit longer than you should’ve.

Then suddenly, it feels like time froze. One second you're tiredly looking at your home, and the next you are lighting your lightsaber on instinct. The instinct being the Stranger attacking you from behind with their own lightsaber. Immediately you block their attack and your lightsabers illuminate a bright light on the rooftop. The lights reflect off their helmet giving you a better view of them on this dark night.

You lift off the ground to get ready for your stance, but you start to feel your knees shake before you out of fear.

“Your tolerance has weakened.”

You feel offended by this, even though it is entirely true. You launch yourself towards them and sway your lightsaber. The two of you match each other's blocks, and swift your wrists together. Once you get an ounce of a break from your physical conflict, you observe them. The way they are walking, the way they’re tilting their head at you, and the way their voice stays smooth like they aren’t even fighting you.

“I sense so much pain. Suffering.” They force pull you close to them and you position your saber in front of you, which helps you block their attack. Now, the two of your lightsabers are crashing together inches away from both of your faces, they finish their sentence– “Anger. You just don't know where to put it.”

Fire then left your throat turning into a scream. You know this will bring attention to your neighbors and people around you, but you don't care. You put all of your frustration into your force push causing a distance between you two. You know they are right. They’ve been winding you up with their antagonizing that it’s making your blood boil, and it's clearly giving you more power to the force than before.

You start to huff from exhaustion but know you need to stay on track. You want this all to end. The taunting and the fear. Enduring another minute of fighting with whoever this person is and them reading your thoughts is too much to bear.

The masked Stranger lunged towards you, and the two of you duel together. You move your lightsaber to attack, to only have them raise their arm to block it causing your lightsaber to give out.

The panic sets in. They take a big step forward and sway their saber towards you, but you move out of the way just in time. You start to back away, and look down to your saber. It’s flickering with purple shining in and out.

“It’s easier to let it out. I can help you.”

“Get out-” Your lightsaber lights back up on its own and you form your stance before your strike. “-of my head!” Your feet stomp towards the stranger and the two of you crash together again. A block here. A clash there.

There is a moment in your duel where they are able to grab ahold of your arm, and headbut into your saber. Causing it to give out once again. In this moment, it’s the first time they’ve touched you. But there is something about their hand on your arm that feels familiar. You're on the edge again. You feel as though you're looking over on a cliff, feeling the adrenaline. The shop. The medicine. Qimir.

Your eyes squint towards their helmet as though you can see through it. This causes them to push you away from them. You can feel the panic radiate off of them.

Again, your lightsaber lights but you have it lowered to the side of you. You have given up fighting at this moment because all you want is an answer. The answer being if this person before you is Qimir.

With heavy breaths you say “It’s you.. isn’t it?”

They dont answer, but only slowly take slow steps towards you. You feel like the fighting is over and you start to let your guard down. Although your saber stays on. Now, the Stranger is in front of you. Tilting their head. But then, they sway their legs under yours to sweep you off your feet.

Your back stings at the immediate pain of hitting the floor. The Stranger then strikes you, and all you see is red. Until you force block their attack and hold their lightsaber in place. The saber vibrates in front of you and they are temporarily frozen. You needed to take advantage of it. You kick your foot against their shin and they fall to the floor. This time, you know their helmet causes your lightsaber to short circuit. So, you turn yours off and use the hilt of your saber to strike their helmet. You hit it three times until it crashes to the floor.

You bring your feet into a crouch to stand up. They do the same. Both of you stand up together, in sync.

“You..” You faintly say, like a whisper.

His face is still and precise. The same face you saw before, but it looks like you're looking at a different person.

“You feel it too, don't you?” His voice isn’t modulated this time. If anything, it feels more intimidating than before. You stay silent and frozen. “Mm. You don’t have to answer that. I know you do.”

“You know nothing about me.” You spit back.

“Don't let your fear blind you to what you feel.”

You stare into his eyes in the hopes to read him like he's reading you, but all you get is nothing. His door is locked and you can jerk the knob all you want, but it just won't open. He takes a step to you, you take a step back. And this happens until your heel hits the back of the roof, near the edge.

“You’ve been what I needed all this time, as you need me.”

His words make you stumble and you start to lose balance, but before you can fall backwards. Qimir reaches towards your wrist and holds you in place mid fall. He is touching the same arm he previously did. This time, he brushed his thumb over your scar on your hand. It brings shivers down your spine and your hair stands up. He gently pulls you forward to set you standing straight again.

The commotion to both of your fighting has brought attention to your neighbors, and you can see bright lights coming your way. Qimir doesn’t look behind him but knows they're coming with his statement.

“What’s keeping you here? They’re gonna find you. Question you. Take you in. Once they find out your ex Jedi.. Well.” He shakes his head side to side while puffing air out. “I don’t think you want that.”

He makes a good point. The last thing you want to do is have the Jedi back into your life, and question you as to why you left the order. Making you relive the painful reason you left all over again.

“Or.. you join me.” Silence fills the air as the tension grows with his offer. He speaks again. “You figure out how to make peace with your past and join me as we both live a life where Jedi don’t make all the rules.”

The rules. The words brought anger inside you. Qimir senses it and smirks. He knows he's convincing you. Your door is starting to crack, and he's easing his way in.

“UP THERE!!” A loud voice yells from below your building and it gives you a signal you need to make a decision fast.

The thought of staying behind while you deal with the situation that will come to you full of dread and anger makes your face scrunch of how much you don't want to deal with it. Then the thought of joining Qimir, who senses your feelings you’ve been suppressing for so long. As much as he frustrated you, you felt a sense of relief in finally being able to be seen in that way. As negative as it was. But that's what drew you to him. He’s no Jedi, that's for sure. Because if he was one, he’d treat you like some maniac for having such strong feelings of hatred and anger. You sense familiarity in Qimir. In some ways, you feel like you're looking in a mirror.

A mirror you wanted to keep looking into.

You nod your head yes, and he smiles to himself. Ready for what's to come.

read part three here !

#qimir #qimir x reader #qimir the acolyte #star wars x reader #star wars #star wars fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #manny jacinto #the acolyte

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sweetbans29 · 4 months

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Protector - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: 3 times Caitlin is overprotective

Warnings: jealous(ish) Caitlin

Word Count: 2.8k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: Here's another one for you!

one. fall.

You have no idea why you thought it would be a good idea to go rollerblading. It has been years since you put them on but you begged Caitlin all day saying it would be a fun little outing.

You were completely wrong. It wasn't even 5 minutes in when you fell and got a pretty nasty scrap on your knee.

It takes a few seconds before you feel like you can stand and when you do you wince then sit back down.

Caitlin is looking at our scrap with furrowed eyebrows as she examines what the best course of action would be.

"We should get you home to clean that up, I don't want it to get infected," Caitlin says as her eyes are still glued to your knee.

"No, we just started. I want to keep going," you combat and try to stand again.

Once you are on your feet, you realize you can barely move your leg. You try to hide the pain you are in from your girlfriend but have a hard time hiding anything when you begin to put any sort of pressure on your left leg.

"Okay that is it," Caitlin says as she turns around and hoists you up on her back. She leave both of your rollerblades where you fell and is now carrying you back to your apartment in her socks.

"Cait! I am fine!" You say frustrated that your cute date has been cut short.

"You are not fine." She mumbles as she marches back. "I am going to inspect it after I disinfect it and we will see if I need to take you to urgent care to get it stitched."

"Babe, chill - I am okay." You say, then realize it is a mistake.

Her head whips around as she comes to a complete stop. You can only see her profile but you know she is giving you her death stare.

You learned early on in your relationship how protective Caitlin can be. At first, you thought it was normal but then one of her teammates pointed out how whenever you are in any sort of compromising situation - both physical or mental, Caitlin is right there watching over you. It is always endearing, but could also be too much at times.

You kiss her shoulder and you feel her relax.

The two of you make your way into your apartment. She places you on the kitchen counter as she makes her way to the bathroom to grab the first aid kit.

While she is gone, you attempt to stand up, putting most of your weight on your hands as you slowly lower yourself to the ground. Once you are down on your right foot, you slowly shift your weight to your left and feel pain shoot to your knee. You hiss and begin to lose your balance, trying to grab onto the counter.

Before you know it you feel yourself going down. You mentally brace for your second impact on the ground today but it never comes.

Cait has made her way back to you and has caught you mid-fall, effortlessly lifting you back up and sitting you back down on the counter.

"Do not do that again," is all she says as she opens the first aid kit.

You listen and feel bad for trying to get down on your own. You know Caitlin is doing everything in her power to care for you and you are doing everything you can to do it yourself.

Caitlin takes her time as she disinfects the wound, her hands are the most gentle they have ever been. She is locked in on ensuring she does a thorough job and you do everything in your power to not flinch away from her touch.

You can begin to see steam come out to Caitlin's ears as she is working so intricately on your wound. You bring your hand to brush down the left side of her head.

"I'm sorry I forced you to go rollerblading." You say looking at her. "And I am sorry I fell and that you have to take care of me." This is the best you can do to say Caitlin was right about the whole rollerblading idea.

She looks up at you for the first time since last scolding you for moving.

"You don't need to apologize, babe. I know you didn't do this on purpose." She says as she kisses your right knee. You give her a half smile as she places a bandage on your knee. She stands and you pull her in between your legs and wrap your arms around her for a hug.

She wraps her arms around you and lets out a sigh. The second she does, you know it has been one she has been holding in for a while now.

You rub her back knowing the stress you have caused her this afternoon. Her body relaxes into yours and you can't imagine having anyone else take care of you the way Cait does.

two. handsy.

It’s the Hawkeyes first game in March Madness and you could not be more excited.

Typically you attend games with your friends or sit with Caitlin's family but in this game, Caitlin was able to score you a courtside seat which you gladly accepted.

You get to the game and get escorted to your seat. You chose a simple outfit that consisted of black jeans, some black pumps, and of course your girl’s jersey.

As you sit down you notice the seats around you are empty, you know they will fill up right before tipoff.

You watch the girls come out and begin their warm-ups. You see Caitlin looks around the court until her eyes land on you. Giving her a little wave, she smiles and gives a wave back. Typically you don't drag Cait's attention away from the game but being so close and seeing her look for you, you couldn't help it.

As they are announcing the teams, the people next to you show up. You don't pay them much attention as they begin to announce the Hawkeyes, cheering on Caitlin as she makes her way onto the floor.

The game begins and you are locked into watching Caitlin dominate the court.

You are pulled away from the game when you feel a tap on your thigh. Looking away from the game for a second, you turn to the girl sitting next to you.

She points down to the ground where her lipgloss has rolled by your foot. You pick it up and hand it to her with a smile then turn your attention back to the court.

The first time out is called and you are able to sit back in your chair and breathe for a minute. Watching Caitlin always has your elbows on your knees, holding your breath, with your eyes on her. So any time they call a time-out or the quarter ends you are able to sit back and release the tension your body holds.

"Hey, I'm sorry I interrupted you from the game," the girl next to you says.

You giver her a smile, "Oh you are good!"

"I'm Sarah," she extends her hand. You shake it and introduce yourself.

The game begins again and you assume your position. You cheer on the team as they put in work to stay ahead of the other team. You are on the edge of your seat and don't realize these are folding seats as you push it back slightly, losing your balance.

Just as you are about to fall you feel arms come around you as Sarah has effortlessly caught you and saved you from making a fool of yourself. You are in an awkward squat for .5 seconds as she scoots your chair back to support you. As you sit, your hand comes to her lower thigh as you mumble a thank you, still embarrassed.

"Hey you're good babe, I won't let you fall," she says with a beaming smile. You give her a small smile and nod, thanking her.

Your attention goes back to your girl who you notice has eyes on you. She is staring directly at you, eyes going between you and the girl sitting next to you. Sending you girl a nod, you lock back into the game.

It isn't long after that the half is announced and the girl next to you starts making conversation with you. You don't want to be rude and enter into the light conversation. She stops what she is saying then takes her finger and removes a hair that got caught on your lip. Her finger comes and brushes your cheek and you feel like this is going a little too far.

"Sarah, you seem like a really nice girl but I'm in a relationship." You say.

"Oh my gosh, I promise I am not hitting on you!" She says and introduces you to the girl next to her who's her wife.

A blush instantly makes its way to your face as you feel the fullness of the embarrassment that has overtaken your body. Sarah then puts her arm around you and gives you a side hug as you hide your face in your hands.

Little did you know that Caitlin had seen the whole interaction and had quite frankly had enough of whatever was happening on the sidelines.

Taking only a few giant strides, she is now in front of you.

"Cait!" You yell surprised she has abandoned her post before the fourth quarter.

She is looking right at Sarah, eyes burning into the girl next to you.

"I'm going to need you to remove your arm from my girl and keep your hands to yourself." She says as she removes her arm from you, setting Sarah's hand on her lap and patting it.

"Caitlin," you try getting her attention to let her know the newfound fact that Sarah is indeed not hitting on you.

Caitlin just goes on to tell Sarah that you are happily in a relationship and that she doesn't need the distraction of someone hitting on her girlfriend every 5 minutes.

You get fed up, standing and grabbing Caitlin's face.

"Sarah is married and you are the only one for me!" You yell at her so she can hear you over the crowd. She freezes and now it is her turn to feel the heat of embarrassment creep into her cheeks.

You place a little kiss on her nose and release her, turning her shoulders back to the court and pushing her towards Gabby who checks in with Cait. Caitlin brushes her off as she can't shake the smile on her face.

Your nose kisses are her favorite.

three. work.

Caitlin is currently sitting in the rolling chair right next to yours, tossing up a lacrosse ball as she waits for you to finish up some admin work.

Your staff decided to do its first ever 'bring your spouse into work day'. You thought it was silly considering your company is literally a team of rugby players but caved in when you told Caitlin about it and she was completely on board.

Caitlin and you weren't married yet but had been dating since high school. The two of you talked about marriage quite frequently but wanted to wait until after college to figure it all out. You both knew it was coming but just a matter of when.

"I am almost done here and then we will head out to the field," you say finishing up one of your reports. Caitlin nods, which is unseen to you but you know she is content. Between her practices, games, your work, and school - any time the two of you got together was gold.

You finish up and the two of you head out to the field. You work as a part of the sports medicine team for a local rugby team. It was perfect because it's what you are studying in school and will look good when on your resume. Your goal is to go into the WNBA with Caitlin's team wherever she is drafted.

During the practice, it is a lot of retaping and making sure all the players have what they need. Caitlin watches in awe as these giant guys come up to her girl needing her help with something. You aren't the tallest person to begin with but seeing these full-grown men come up to you makes Caitlin so proud.

Once practice is done - you and Cait go back to your office knowing the fun has just begun. Caitlin takes a seat back in the rolling chair as you grab a pile of towels and make sure your massage table is out and prepped.

Aside from taping, one of your main jobs was massaging out the guys at the end of practice and/or games if needed.

Caitlin knows what you do - you talk about frequently when your job is ever brought up in conversation. She knows what you do firsthand as you have spent countless hours rubbing out knots that she has built up from her own sport. But she was not ready for what she was about to witness.

The first player comes in and you and he joke around as he gets set on the table. By the sounds of it, he is in here after every practice.

He sets himself on his side and hikes up his shorts on his right leg as he twists to the all too familiar position. You place a towel on his upper thigh and glut. As you begin to work out his glut he starts groaning in pain.

You laugh as you continue to work him out. His hand comes up to grab your shoulder, trying to get any sort of pressure released as your elbow assaults his knot. Caitlin's eyes are on the player's hand that is clutching your shoulder now.

You ease up and nudge his hand off, making a joke that he is making you uncomfortable. Caitlin released the breath she didn't realize she was holding.

The thing is - Caitlin is beyond secure in your relationship. She has no doubts that you are hers and only hers but seeing this guy wither under your touch has a fire burning within her. At this moment, it provided no comfort to Caitlin knowing how good your massages are.

Caitlin sits there with her arms crossed as you finish working with the guy. The guy thanks you and heads out as you have a little break.

"I don't know if I like this," Caitlin says, arms still crossed as she is leaning back in her chair.

You shoot her a smile and make your way to her.

"You know best what these hands can do," you say with a shrug and a little smirk. Her eyes widen, not expecting that response from you as the next guy walks in. You lean over and kiss her on the head as you greet the next player.

The next player is similar except you are working out the back of his calves and thighs. He keeps moaning and groaning which you laugh at. Caitlin knows the sounds the guy is making are due to the pain he is in but she can’t help but feel jealousy rise within her.

Again, she knows this is your job and she knows that she is the one you come home to every night but it is wild to her that these guys are squirming at your touch.

This player is feeling so much pain that he reaches back and grabs the back of your thigh just to hold onto something and Caitlin can see him squeeze it.

She leans over and grabs the guy's hand, removing it from your leg.

“Okay that’s enough,” Caitlin says putting her hand on your thigh where she just removed his.

The player apologizes and you give Cait a questioning look.

She doesn’t say anything to you but lets you finish the massage. The player grips the table until you are finished and thanks you upon leaving.

“What was that about babe?” You ask putting everything away.

“There is no reason for them to touch you - especially the way the second guy was. It’s inappropriate,” she says.

“It’s a reflex, it means nothing. And trust me, I always have them remove it.” You say walking up to her.

You stand in between her legs as her hands come up to find the back of your thighs. She looks up at you for a second then her head falls to your stomach. Your hands come to her head and soothe her hair over.

“Your hands are the only ones I want on my body babe.” You say in a sweet tone.

“They better be,” she says giving your legs a squeeze as she pulls you in and hugs your middle.

AN: I hope you enjoyed this lil cute one. And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

#caitlin clark #caitlin clark imagine #caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark masterlist #22

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ellecdc · 5 months

Note

hello! would you maybe be willing to consider writing a kind of follow-up to the poly moonwater fics where reader is pregnant? maybe when she has the babies and everyone’s reactions?? ty for reading my request🙏

I love this little family so damn much 😭🫶

poly!moonwater x afab!reader who gives birth to their twins

CW: pregnancy, hormonal fits, brief discussion of Regulus' childhood, brief discussion of Remus' childhood, going into labour, portrayal of breastfeeding though nothing is described, Barty losing his fucking mind, Uncle Sirius for Best Uncle 2024, also the babies look like their daddies to avoid describing/labelling the mother's features

Remus felt for you. He really, really did.

But also, he was a little afraid of you.

Scratch that, he was very afraid of you.

But his sympathy for you ran deeper than his fear, which is how he found himself sitting in one of the (many) gliders Regulus has purchased for every room in your shared home as you fought to find a comfortable position in your bed.

And yes, your bed.

Because you had since kicked Remus and Regulus out of your shared bed.

And though they didn’t feel particularly bad about it, you claimed it was their fault.

You see, after a particularly worrisome fall - that took place at six and a half months pregnant (with twins, no less) as you missed a step on your way up the stairs of your townhouse - unfortunately for you, and fortunately for Remus and Regulus, it happened in front of all of your friends one night when they were over for dinner, which resulted in a lot of fussing by James and Sirius, and caused Barty to go marching upstairs and begin moving all of your furniture and belongings into the spare room on the main floor.

“Like fuck my Treasure is navigating these stairs in her condition. The two of you are sodding useless; this should have been done months ago.” He spat venomously as Evan shouted at him that it was “not polite to reconfigure someone else's house without permission.”

You vehemently protested the move.

Regulus and Remus didn’t think it was such a bad idea.

Because of their ‘betrayal’ (read: their lack of support in your arguments against your most capricious friend devotee), the boys were not allowed in ‘your room’.

So, perhaps Remus was already pushing the limits by taking up residence in the glider as you tried and failed to find a comfortable position to read in, determined to take a nap.

“The babes giving you grief, dove?” He asked softly, earning him a derisive scoff from you.

“What do you think?” You spat.

Remus grimaced but decided to soldier on. “They may be ready to come any day now.”

That was the wrong thing to say if your quick glare was anything to go by.

“No they are not.”

“Dove,” he started, closing his own book and leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he considered you. “Anywhere from 34 to 38 weeks is full term for twins. The fact you’ve made it to 35 is incredible, baby.”

Your lips pinched as your brows dipped, and Remus was sure you were close to tears. “No, I’m not ready, I-” you let out a breath as you cut yourself off, alerting Remus to the fact that you were about to give away the sex of (one of) the babies. “Baby B, they need more time.” You admitted, voice quieter as if you were afraid saying it any louder would somehow jinx it and trigger your own labour.

“They’re going to come when they’re ready.” He repeated.

He left the room after you threw your book at him.

He followed the sounds coming from the kitchen where he found Regulus on his hands and knees underneath the cabinets, of which he’d emptied of all their contents.

The second Regulus found out that the three of you were expecting twins, and due to the nature of the superfetation and thus the risks involved, he quit his job and strong-armed (read: lightly encouraged) Remus to do the same.

And while Remus focused on catering to you and ensuring you were comfortable (or…as comfortable as humanly possible when you had two little freaks using your organs as trampolines) and well fed, Regulus focused on…whatever this was.

“Reggie?”

“Mhm?” He responded quickly, voice muffled from where his head was still shoved deep within the lower cabinets.

“What are you doing?”

Regulus shifted and his head made a painful thump sound when it connected with the top of the cabinet before he pulled himself out of it.

“Cleaning.”

One of Remus' brows arched at that. “The lower cabinets?”

“Right.”

“Why?”

Regulus rubbed the back of his head as he looked between Remus and the mess he was currently surrounded by in the name of ‘cleaning’.

“Well…the babies-”

“Won’t be concerned with the lower cabinets.” Remus cut him off, looking down at his boyfriend lovingly.

Remus watched as Regulus took a deep breath and deflated significantly.

Remus pushed aside some large pots and various cleaning products as he joined Regulus on the floor and pulled him closer by the ankle.

“What’s going on inside that head of yours, love?” He asked him quietly, rubbing his thumb along his Achilles tendon as Regulus seemed to organise his thoughts.

“I don’t think I’m going to go back to work.” Regulus blurted finally.

Remus fought to school his expression as he tilted his head in consideration. “Ever?”

Regulus shook his head and rested his chin on his knees. “I don’t know. Maybe just part time or something…I just- I don’t…I don’t want to be like him.”

“Like who, sweetheart?”

“Like my father.” Regulus bit out, bitterness colouring his tone. “Avoiding my family and responsibilities by hiding at work. Coming home to find out the babies have done something wonderful and I missed it. I…I want to be here, and I’m afraid; I’m afraid I’ll be more like him than I mean to be.”

Remus smiled sadly at Regulus as he squeezed his ankle twice. “I already know you’ll be nothing like him, my star. Considering you’re so worried about it, I know you’ll be 100 times the father he was. But, I’ll be here to make sure that stays true, okay?”

Regulus’ eyes met Remus’, and he felt his heart squeeze at the redness rimming Regulus’ eyes as they turned glassy.

“I’ll take care of you - both of you; all of you. You’ll never have to want for anything, you know that right?” Regulus stated urgently.

Remus smiled softly at him as he nodded. “I know, love.”

“You could stay home indefinitely too, you know.” Regulus offered shyly.

Remus chuckled. “You just don’t want to have to face our little mama bear all by yourself.” He teased.

Regulus chuckled in response but his eyes morphed into a lovesick gaze as he stared unseeingly out the archway of the kitchen. “She’s just uncomfortable and stressed right now.”

“She’s gonna be such a good mum.” Remus agreed quickly.

“The best.”

“We’re so lucky.”

“Rem? Reg?” Your voice sounded from the hall before your form hobbled into the archway as you used the door frame for support.

“What’s the matter?” Regulus asked quickly, kicking his feet out and sending various pots toppling over on the tile floor.

Whatever you had been on your way to say seemed to be placed on the back burner as your brows pinched and your eyes darted across the chaos that was currently your kitchen.

“What were you doing in here?” You asked slightly breathlessly. Both Remus and Regulus stood sheepishly.

“Erm, uh….cleaning?” Regulus answered in the form of a question.

One of your brows raised as you continued scanning the mess. “You’re not very good at it.”

“What did you need, dove?” Remus asked gently.

Your face softened as you looked up at him worriedly.

“I think my water broke.”

You could have heard a pin drop in the messy kitchen as Remus and Regulus stood staring at you dumbfoundedly.

“You…” Regulus started before clearing his throat. “You think?”

You grimaced as you looked down to your stomach sheepishly. “No I…I’m quite sure. I think-” You paused to suck in a breath through your teeth. “I think it’s time.”

The breath that followed the end of your sentence bordered on a groan and the boys jumped to action.

“Okay, come here amour.” Regulus said gently as he supported you with one hand on your elbow and the other on your lower back and he guided you to a chair in the dining room. “Rem, can you grab the babies’ bags?”

“On it.” He answered quickly and went running to the nursery to grab two matching nappy bags. Merlin, babies come with a lot of stuff.

“Are you grabbing our bag?” Remus called to Regulus who was then running up the stairs to the ensuite bedroom.

“Oui! Amour’s bag is in her closet.”

“Got it!”

Regulus and Remus reconvened in the living room with four bags, two baby carriers, and enough panic to fill an olympic swimming pool.

“Okay, baby bags have nappies?” Regulus asked, reading off a list in his hands.

“Check.” Remus responded.

“Snappies?”

“Check.”

“Blankets?”

“Check.”

“Hats and booties?”

“Got it.”

“Okay. And who packed mama’s bag?”

“She did.”

Regulus let out a relieved sigh. “Okay, no need to check that one then.”

Remus offered him an unimpressed look as he re-zipped the babies’ bags and threw them over his shoulder.

“Okay, you grab the carriers and our bag, I’ll grab the rest.” Remus instructed, which Regulus complied as they stepped up to the floo.

“Alright, St. Mungo’s.” Remus said clearly as the flames surged green and the two men stepped through to the intake room of the magical hospital.

Both men were breathless as they nearly collided with the desk where an unimpressed mediwix looked them both up and down.

“We’re checking into the maternity ward; our partner has gone into labour.” Remus explained in an exhale.

The mediwix moved his gaze between both men, their stomachs, and the various belongings they were carrying.

“Right,” he drawled before his eyes returned to Remus’. “And, your partner?”

“Y/N L/N.” Regulus added quickly, causing the mediwix to move his judgmental stare to him.

“Right….and where is she?”

Both men spun to face each other in a mixture of horror and embarrassment.

Remus rounded the corner of the kitchen to find you sitting where Regulus had left you, one hand massaging a point of your stomach as you considered him with a look full of judgement and mirth.

“Where’s Reg?” You goaded as Remus helped you up from your chair and started making the slow trek back towards the floo flames; his face burning hot with shame that he was sure was spreading to the tips of his ears and well down his chest.

“He was too embarrassed.” He admitted quietly.

You sounded like you were getting ready to laugh when you doubled over and a pained whimper escaped your lips.

Remus quickly bent down so he had one hand on each of your arms, trying to help keep you upright.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I’m sorry. We’re going to get you in a bed and feeling better, okay?”

You whimpered again and looked up at Remus sadly. “I’m sorry.” You cried quietly.

“Dove.” He admonished sadly. “What on earth are you sorry for?”

You took in two large breaths as you tried to breathe around the pain. “You have to do this every month.”

Remus wanted to cry. For you, or for himself, he wasn’t sure. He loved you so sodding much he couldn’t even tell what exactly it was about what you said that touched him so much.

“You’re so much stronger and braver than I am though, dovey. So if I can get through it, I know you can too, yeah?” He offered softly, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I’m only brave because I learned it from you.” You gritted out through a sob.

“We can argue about this later, okay? Let’s get you checked in; I’m sure the mediwix is glaring daggers at Regulus for having abandoned his pregnant partner.”

He managed to coerce a small laugh out of you which he considered a win before you both stepped through the flames.

Remus didn’t grow up expecting much out of life.

Bitten at only four years old, he was certain something would go wrong with his little body during one of his transformations and he’d be dead long before he ever hit Hogwarts age.

He couldn’t attend muggle school growing up due to his affliction and the risk of performing accidental magic in front of muggles.

Though he was certain he was going to die before age 11, he was even more certain that should he make it to 11, he’d never be accepted into Hogwarts.

When he was accepted into Hogwarts, he was certain he’d never make any friends.

When he made friends, he was certain they’d hate him if they found out about his lycanthropy.

When his friends accepted him for his lycanthropy, well….he never imagined he’d be so lucky as to find a partner who was just as accepting.

Let alone two.

For as long as Remus Lupin could remember, he never imagined ever feeling as much love or as loved as he currently felt in this exact moment.

Not only did he have two people who he loved beyond measure, but those two people gifted him two of the most perfect, tiny little beings he could have never imagined possible.

And suddenly - sitting here in a hospital room with you resting in a bed with your eyes closed as Regulus wiped lovingly at your face with a damp cloth, with a tiny little black-haired baby swaddled to perfection fast asleep in a see-through bassinet on your other side, and with an even tinier fawn-haired baby snuggled perfectly into Remus’ bare chest - every single full moon was worth it.

Every broken bone, every scar, every ache and pain and sleepless night that brought him here was absolutely, without a doubt, worth it.

“Knock knock!” Remus could hear Lily murmur quietly yet brightly from behind the closed hospital door.

“That is so cringey, Red. Why wouldn’t you just knock?” Sirius muttered.

“Because!” She hissed back and he could hear what sounded like Sirius being swatted with her purse. “They could be sleeping! I don’t want to startle them with a loud knock.”

“Oh yeah, Rem and Reg are definitely gonna piss their pants at the sound of you knocking on the door. Shouldn’t mama be all drugged up right now anyway?”

You chuckled under your breath as you peeled open one of your eyes to look over at Remus who was looking at you with a matching smile as you listened to Sirius being walloped three more times.

“Okay, well, you guys settle this out here then.” James decided as he pushed the door open.

He smiled at you and Regulus before his eyes met Remus’ form in a glider as he was currently doing skin-to-skin with his miniature doppelganger.

James made a very embarrassing cooing sound (if you asked Remus) as he made his way into the room, tiptoeing like he was avoiding invisible trip wires.

Lily and Sirius stopped their scuffle as they followed James in, beaming widely at Remus.

“Oh my Godric, Moony.” Lily cooed, looking awfully close to tears as the nickname so unusual out of Lily’s mouth caused Remus’ eyes to well up similarly. “It’s you as a baby!”

“Who was right? Girl or boy?” Sirius asked quickly, daring to reach forward and lovingly stroke a finger along the downy soft skin on the baby’s cheek.

Remus snorted and Regulus groaned.

“Girl, Pads.”

“Yes!” Lily and Sirius cheered quietly as they gave each other double high fives, clearly over whatever tiff they were having in the hallway mere moments ago.

“Better luck next time, Reggie.” James called towards him, causing you to narrow your eyes dangerously at your friend.

“Wait.” James said as he caught sight of a little something in a bassinet behind Regulus. “WAIT.”

“What?” Sirius asked, craning his neck to see what James was looking at.

“No…” Lily breathed out disbelievingly.

“Twins?!” Sirius shrieked.

“What?” Regulus asked derisively, and Remus had to work really hard to keep his face neutral at that.

“Wha-” James started, violently whipping his head back and forth between the two infants in the room. “What do you mean, what!?”

“There’s two!” Sirius exclaimed.

Your mouth dropped open in ‘shock’ as you looked at Sirius aghast. “You see the other one too?”

The room fell painfully silent as James, Lily, and Sirius all looked bemusedly between the family of five before Remus couldn’t take it anymore and started giggling.

His daughter began to stir from the rumbling of his chest causing Regulus to scoff in faux admonishment.

“Would you knock that off, Remus; you’re going to give her shaken baby syndrome.” He muttered before he was gently prying the tiny infant from Remus’ chest and wrapping her up in a blanket before holding her close to his chest.

“Mama.” Lily breathed out. “Two!?”

“Two.” You confirmed. Remus delighted at the shy yet proud smile you adorned as you tucked your chin to your chest.

Throwing his jumper back on, he moved over to perch on the opposite side of your bed and pulled the little bassinet closer to the two of you.

“Are they both girls?” Lily asked.

“Yes.” Remus laughed, causing Sirius to cackle from where he stood looking over Regulus’ shoulder at one of his nieces.

“You were wrong twice little brother!”

“Sod off, Sirius.”

Sirius smacked Regulus up the back of the head. “You watch your mouth around my nieces, hellion.”

“Isn’t hellion a swear word?” James queried.

“It’s not a swear, it’s a noun.” Sirius explained.

“But then wouldn’t fuck be a verb?” Remus asked, causing the room to fall silent as everyone pondered that for a moment.

The silence didn’t last long as the sound of two heavy footfalls grew in volume before they stopped abruptly in front of the hospital room.

“Am I too late!?” Barty screeched (albeit quietly) into the room as he and Evan stood in the doorway catching their breaths.

“Too late for…what, Junior? What did you think was happening here?” James asked.

“Shut up.” Barty spat as he moved into the room, shoving past everyone to press kisses against your forehead.

“My beautiful, sweet Treasure. All this work for two tossers. We could still run away, yeah? You, me and the baby; just say the word.”

“Try babies, Junior.” Sirius taunted, causing Barty to straighten up so quickly he nearly collided with Lily as he turned to look at Sirius incredulously.

“What!?”

Sirius smirked as he pointed to the baby in Regulus’ arms as Barty moved to inspect the tawny-haired babe.

“A Lupin. That’s too bad.” Barty muttered quietly, causing Regulus to kick at his shin and you to shout a reproachful ‘Bartemus!”.

“And there.” Sirius continued, pointing to where Remus was picking up a black-haired babe from a clear bassinet to pass into your waiting arms.

“A Black!? Even worse!” Barty shrilled.

“Barty!” You chided again, though the smile playing at your lips severely diminished the severity of your tone.

“Oh, oh gods, oh my. I-”

Barty didn’t seem to know where to look; pained puffs of air leaving his lungs as he spun comedically on the spot, dividing his attention between you and the two baby girls.

“Rosier, your boyfriend’s about to combust.” Lily teased as she leaned back into James who quickly wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her head.

“Barty.” Evan tried, causing Barty to look at him in horror.

“There’s two!”

Even Evan seemed to find some humour in the state of his boyfriend as his lips quirked up into a smirk. “Yes, babe. I counted that many as well.”

“Two!?” He shouted again as he turned his sights on you.

“How’d….How’d you have two in there!?” He barked as he pointed accusatively at your stomach.

“Magic?” You asked shyly, looking down at your daughter who was beginning to fuss.

“Way to go, Junior. You’ve upset her.” Sirius grumbled.

“She’s hungry.” Remus corrected, stroking her dark hair before moving his hand to stroke yours in much the same way.

“Her?” Barty asked quietly, watching as you helped the infant latch.

“Two girls, Uncle Barty.” You offered quietly, smiling softly up at your fiercest friend.

“I’m a girl uncle.” He said in awe, moving his smile towards the baby in Regulus’ arms.

“What are their names?” James asked eagerly.

You looked shyly up at Remus who in turn fielded the question to Regulus.

“This here,” Regulus started, pausing to clear his throat as he looked down at his daughter. “Is Rome Valeria Lupin.”

Lily let out a breathy ‘awe’ as she touched her hand to her chest, and Remus pretended he didn’t notice Sirius wiping a tear from under his eye.

“Named after the Empire, just like her daddy.” James commented with a soft yet proud smirk.

“And that one there is Soleil Pax Lupin.”

Sirius’ gaze moved to the little head he could see nuzzling at her mother’s chest. “A Sunny little girl.” He whispered quietly.

“Pax, that means peace in Latin, yeah?” Evan commented, smirking as Barty scoffed at him.

“Of course it does, Evan. Everyone knows that.”

James’ eyebrows furrowed as he looked towards Remus. “I didn’t know that…” He admitted quietly.

“And Valeria means strength; Rome was a little younger than her sister, but she was a powerful little fighter.” Remus explained, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“They’re perfect, you guys. Just perfect.” Lily commented emphatically, earning nods in agreement from James, Sirius, and Evan.

“With no help from these wankers, surely. You did a great job, Treasure. They may have lost the lottery in terms of fathers but these girls couldn’t have asked for a better mum.”

And though Regulus rolled his eyes with an annoyed shake of his head, no one bothered to argue.

These two girls really lucked out when it came to their mummy.

“Oh gods.” Barty whispered as he stood hastily.

“What?” Regulus asked cautiously.

“Oh gods.” He shrieked, turning a withering glare towards his friend. “You sods should have told me!”

Remus helped you right your robe as you pulled Soleil away from you and began patting gently at her back. “We thought it would be a funny surprise.” He explained.

Barty scoffed derisively and turned his ire onto him.

“Well ha ha, very funny.” He deadpanned. “I’ve only bought one of everything!”

Regulus waved him off after he passed Rome to his brother’s eagerly awaiting arms. “That’s fine, Barty.”

“No! It's not fine, Barty!” Barty volleyed back. “Evan, let’s go.” He ordered as he bent to press another kiss to your head, kissed his hand and gently pressed it to Soleil’s shoulder and did the same to Rome (much to Sirius’ chagrin).

“Where?”

“Shopping! I need to go back and buy another of everything that we’ve bought!”

“Over the past seven months!?” Evan asked incredulously.

“Yes!”

Remus could hear them arguing all the way to the floo flames.

Lily offered to take Soleil from you to finish burping the baby as the room fell into a comfortable silence.

“So, when can we start trying again?” Regulus asked, causing Remus to grimace and you to level him with a look that would send a lesser man straight to his grave.

“Okay,” Regulus acquiesced. “We’ll talk more next week.”

Sirius laughed as he looked down at the babe in his arms.

“Sounds like your papa’s going to be sleeping on Uncle Siri’s couch, Roro.” He cooed.

From the look on your face, Remus was sure Sirius was quite right.

A/N: thanks to some of the ideas that were sent to me from anon's, like the idea that they rushed to the hospital and forgot reader at the house 🤣

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smileysuh · 6 months

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heart aches - TEASER

🌙 starring. Jeong Jaehyun x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. Your ex finds your sweet spot as easily as ever, as if it hasn’t been two years since his tongue stroked this specific patch of skin and made your whole body tingle with pleasure. You let out a shaky sigh, threading your fingers through his hair and relaxing against the pillows. “Don’t leave me again,” you whisper. “Never again,” he promises.

tw/cw. foreplay, fingering, mutual masturbation, hand job hand fucking, spitting, finger sucking, inklings of oral fixation, praise, dirty talk, pining, reminiscing, breast worship, teasing, Jae being a simp, unprotected sex, handholding while fucking, Jae is pretty vanilla but pent up as hell, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 5.3k

🍭 aus. ex's to lovers, non idol au, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I don't normally do angst, but Idk, this felt right for some reason this month

It feels like deja vu to be walking into your apartment with Jaehyun. You’ve had the same unit for years- and you know it must feel even weirder for your ex to be here again after practically living here with you for half of your time in university together.

As you toss your keys onto the entryway table, you hear a familiar meow. Your cat slinks in from the kitchen, but instead of heading to you, she immediately moves toward Jaehyun’s feet, letting out an obnoxiously loud purr as she begins to rub against him.

“Looks like Mittens hasn’t forgotten me either,” Jaehyun smiles, immediately bending down to pick up the fluffy grey and white kitty. She leans into his touch, purring like an engine as he scratches he cheeks. Her paws begin to make softies on his arm, and it makes your heart ache.

You’ve dated a few guys casually in Jaehyun’s absence, and Mittens has never liked any of them. She always was a daddy’s girl- after all, you’d started dating Jaehyun only a few months after you’d picked her up from the shelter.

You still have pictures of the two of them on your phone, hidden in a secret file- you’d never had the heart to delete them, and as you watch their reunion, you’re glad you never did.

“She missed you,” you admit. “We both did.”

☀️ to read the full fic AND 3.1k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here

👹 or wait till the fic is posted on tumblr Saturday, March 16th, 2024

🔮 see what’s already available to read on my m.list

READ IT HERE

#nct #jaehyun #jaehyun smut #jeong jaehyun #jeong jaehyun smut #nct jaehyun #jaehyun nct #nct jaehyun smut #jaehyun nct smut #jung jaehyun #jung jaehyun smut #nct 127 #nct 127 smut #nct smut

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loveshotzz · 1 year

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bouncer!steve x fem!reader steve’s night.

🎵 I finally found someone that can make me laugh, hahaha you so crazy, I think I wanna have your baby.🎵

summary: You’ve got a crush on the new bouncer at The Foxy Lounge. Turns out he’s not very good at his job.

word count: 13.6k

warnings: 18 + 90’s AU// Steve is in his early 30’s, Your date gets drunk and says some night nice things, some mild violence (bar fights), possessive steve, fingering, smut (p in v) cream pie, ass eating (f! receiving), oral (f! receiving), dirty talk.

authors note: It’s finally here! Part two of Whatta man! Steve’s night. You don’t have to read Eddie’s Night to read this one, I just think it’s more fun if you do 😉 There’s LOTS of bartender!eddie in this fic if you miss him though. (he’s your bff) This part has been a long time coming (since march lol) and I’m so happy to finally share this with you. Thank you to all of my friends who have had to listen to me talk about this for months and all of you guys who have sent me asks about our favorite boys at the foxy lounge! I wouldn’t of been able to do this with out your endless support, and excitement for this little world. Thank you, ily forever 💗

The perks of moving into the apartment that presides above The Foxy Lounge were vast for a single girl like yourself, but the perks of becoming friends with the bartender that worked there seemed to make them endless.

Memorized orders and free drinks when he was feeling nice (which he almost always was), he wore the crown of wingman of the century with pride, Eddie always made sure you had a good time. It was days like today that were your favorite though, heading home from a shitty morning shift at work, you weren’t surprised when you tugged on the front door an hour before open and it wasn’t locked. The annoyed look on his face told you he wasn’t either. An irritated groan leaves his chest at the carelessness of the owner and your landlord before popping the caps off two beers with ease. The loud clink of metal to glass echoes in the empty bar, as he flips his bottle opener between his fingers like muscle memory stuffing it in his back pocket.

“He’s gonna get us robbed one day, and I’m just gonna take my favorite bottle for damages and let them have the rest at this point.” His smile shows the lack of truth behind his words when you sit in the stool in front of him.

“Lucky for the both of you, it’s always just me.” Winking when you take a swig, the bitter liquid and the company eases the bad day out of your bones almost instantly.

The beginnings of a relaxed sigh start to push past your lips when the jarring sound of his rings slapping against the wood of the bar to the tune of a drum roll has you tense right back up. You’re unable to stop the slam of your beer before deadpanning, “you know I hate when you do that-“

“My best buddy Steve starts tomorrow night, I finally got Rick to say yes.” Eddie’s excitement has him vibrating when he cuts you off to tell you the news of the latest Foxy Lounge employee. “You’re gonna have such a crush on him. I’m calling it now.” The smirk on his face and the arch of his brow dare you to challenge him as he leans forward into your space.

Rolling your eyes with a snort, you start picking at the white sticker wrapped around the bottle.

“As if you know my type, Munson.” You can’t control the twitch of your lips the second the words leave your mouth when you finally dare to meet his amused gaze.

Eddie knew your type better than anyone else. Watching the men and sometimes women you’d bring upstairs weekend after weekend. He had you pegged and the Cheshire smile on his face told you he knew it too.

“I can hear it now.” He changes the pitch of his voice so it sounds like a bad version of yours before he continues with an exaggerated batting of his lashes, “Oh Eddie, Steve is just so dreamy. Do you think he thinks I’m cute? Will you talk to him? Come on Eddie!”

“I do NOT talk like that, asshole!” Launching a handful of bar nuts at him, he raises his hands in mock surrender shaking out the few that got stuck in his hair with a booming laugh.

“I don’t think that's a nice way to treat the guy who not only didn’t kick you out but also gave you a free beer before we opened, sweetheart.” His dimpled grin and perfect smile almost has your stomach in butterflies.

“I basically live here, besides your boss is the one who left the door unlocked. Maybe it’s a good thing you’re upping your security around here,” you tease, gulping down the rest of the beer before sliding the empty bottle over.

“We’ll see about this Steve guy you won’t shut up about, who knows Eddie, maybe it’s you who’s got a crush.”

Sweeping up the mess you made behind his bar he smirks before wiggling his brows.

“Everyone’s got a crush on Steve, baby.”

The pink fluorescent lights of the Foxy Lounge sign that hangs outside your window paints your studio in a blush tinted glow. It bleeds through the sheer floor length curtains, softening its harshness in a way that you liked. The darkness outside always makes it shine brightest around this time, a constant fight with your overhead lamp before bed. Your eyes catch the glaring red numbers on your clear digital clock reading 8:45pm.

Shit. You’re late.

No Doubt’s I’m Just A Girl plays loud enough through your boom box speakers to drown out the murmurs of the bar downstairs that spill through the slight crack in your bedroom window. You finish the last touch ups to the bubble gum colored gloss that coats your lips, smacking them together loudly. You give yourself a sweet smile in the mirror before fluttering your lashes for good measure. The finishing touch.

Finally feeling ready enough to leave, you adjust the black velvet choker around your neck with lavender painted nails. They highlight the lime green tube top that wraps around your chest as you pull at your black maxi skirt that sits above your hips hugging your curves just right.

You give yourself one last once over while you slip on your clunky Steve Madden slides, telling yourself the whole time you didn’t get all done up for the new bouncer. Instead you tell yourself it’s because you want to get lucky with the guy that invited you to get last minute drinks conveniently at the bar you above.

Turning around to give your studio apartment the safety check, you shuffle over your baby blue carpet with loud clacks from your sandals to hurriedly straighten your pink comforter and snuff out your incense. Grabbing your bag, you rush out with a flip of the light switch, only getting two steps away before having to pop back in to grab your keys hanging by the door.

The platforms on your slides are heavy as you make your way down the staircase, the narrow hallway bouncing your steps off the walls despite the cushion of the ugly brown carpet. One hand on the banister and the other dragging along the wall for balance, you pick up your pace barreling towards the door. Pushing it open with more force than normal, you hit something on the other side, hard.

An oof and the sound of plastic skidding across the sidewalk is followed by the crash of a stool that must’ve belonged to whoever was sitting on it. Stepping onto the pavement with a clack from your sandals, you stop in your tracks when you see his broad shoulders first. Bent over, you watch him collect what looks like an orange Tamagotchi, stuffing it quickly in his back pocket before brushing the dust off his dark denim clad thighs. The way he fills his jeans has your mouth dry up and his muscles flex under the black cotton shirt that wraps tight around his torso, the seams barely containing what’s underneath. Turning around he runs a big hand through his honey colored locks that stop just below his ears, pushing the fly aways from his face while the shine of the street lamp highlights his cheekbones and sharp jaw.

God you hated when Eddie was right.

Hazel eyes rake over your form while yours follow the freckles that run along his neck that lead to small moles placed like a cluster of stars along his jaw. His chiseled nose runs down a narrow line with lips tinged pink like his cheeks. The expression on his face going from irritated to flirty in a matter of seconds flat, the whites of his teeth showing when he gives you an easy smile.

“I’m - oh my god, I’m so sorry. I’m running late and no one is ever sitting there and I - Are you okay?” Talking a mile a minute, you hate that he has your nerves getting the best of you.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Raising his hands up to stop you, the press of your thighs is instant when you see the silver band wrapped around the thickness of his middle finger. “No apologies necessary, it was an accident, honey.”

The endearment leaves his mouth while his lips turn his smile crooked, and it makes you dizzy. Bending down to grab the stool off the ground, a matching chain slips out from under his shirt and the glow above gives you a glimpse at the patch of thick chest hair hidden from sight.

“Besides, it’s not the first time a pretty girl has knocked me on my ass.” Folding his arms across his pecs, he leans against the brick of the bar crossing his legs at the ankles. The black boots that cover his feet look big and menacing despite his disposition.

Biting your bottom lip into a smile, you look up at him through shy lashes and you swear you hear him sigh at the sight.

“Well as long as you’re okay-“

“Steve,” he offers his name with a flash of his teeth again, a spark lighting in his eyes when he sees the way you react to it.

“Well you’ll probably see my face around here a lot,” you say, doing your best to ignore the way your cheeks burn.

“I sure hope so.” Pulling a toothpick out of his back pocket, he slides it between his lips. Jaw clenching when he bites down on the wood while his eyes roam your curves again before offering you another grin.

It makes you do one thing a man has never made you genuinely do. You giggle. Tucking your hair behind your ear, you hardly recognize yourself anymore.

“I was gonna say, 'cause I live upstairs.” Your voice is sweet despite the roll of your eyes, his jaw clenches against the wood. He liked that.

He only breaks his stare to follow the path of your finger, his eyes lingering on your open window for a second before bringing all his attention back on you. The tension grows even thicker when he kicks off the wall, realization hitting him. The soles of his boots are loud against the pavement when he closes the distance between you with two long strides. Getting close enough to smell the cinnamon on his breath, and the expensive cologne that lingers on his bronzed skin, you forget all about your date waiting for you inside.

“Eddie’s told me all about you.” Using the tip of his tongue, he pushes the toothpick to the other side of his mouth, his smirk telling you all you need to know.

“That’s funny, Eddie’s told me about you too,” you lick your lips, tasting the fruit of your gloss as you look up at him from under hooded shimmering lids, “Steve.”

He inches just a little closer to teeter on the edge of what’s appropriate before responding, “Oh yeah? Did you like what you heard baby?”

His smile is as sinful as it is blinding. A darkened gaze locked on yours as he pulls the tooth pick out his mouth letting the sharp end snag his bottom lip before stuffing it in his back pocket again.

The electricity in the air sparks and fizzes, standing close enough to see the freckles that line his nose and the specks of glitter smattered in a similar pattern on your cheeks.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Raising an eyebrow, your response has him sucking his teeth before rolling his tongue against the inside of his cheek accepting your answer with a nod of his head.

Pulling out a small red flashlight with a soft click of the button at the end, white light floods the dark. The beam roams over the expanse of your body with a purposeful path before stopping at his outstretched hand.

“I.D.?” Amusement evident in his voice, he wiggles his fingers at you keeping up with his charade. The motion daring to make a mess of your underwear.

You try to cover up your laugh with a fake scoff, making it come out loud enough for him to snort. Your lips twitch as you try to fight the losing battle with the smile threatening to break across your face.

“What? I need to be careful here sweetheart. It’s my first night, I gotta make sure you’re really who you say you are, and not just some pretty girl trying to flirt her way inside.” He keeps the perfect poker face while he tuts at you to hurry up for the invisible line behind you.

“Would it have worked?” you ask handing him your driver’s license, wincing internally at the picture he is about to see.

Brushing his fingers against yours when he takes it for closer examination, he huffs out a laugh before looking down at you with a smug grin.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” He winks like an expert before making a big show of bringing your ID close to his face like it might be a fake.

Tsking to himself as he reads it over, he peeks over at you with a sly smirk. “A whole year older than me. Good for you, I like older women.”

Closing the space that developed when you had to dig in your purse, you snatch the plastic out of his hand, relishing in the way his breath hitches because of it. “I’m shocked you can read Steve, Eddie’s taste can be a bit…shoddy.”

“I think I’m pretty good at it actually, I’m good at reading a lot of things.” Ignoring your jab he’s quick to regain his confidence. “Things like, I don’t know, body language.” The spice of the cinnamon returns when he pulls out his toothpick again. He flashes you his pearly whites when he bites down, keeping his eyes locked on yours, a silent dare to prove him wrong.

Like magnets finding each other, the toes of his boots brush against your sandals. When did he get this close again?

Mariah Carey’s Fantasy cuts off any witty response that sits on the tip of your tongue as the bar door creaks open, rudely snapping you both back to reality. A boy who looks barely above the legal age is the culprit for popping your bubble, stopping dead in his tracks when the flirting bouncer’s attention redirects itself to where it should be. You already miss it.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up, punk.” Grabbing the kid by the collar of his shirt, he mutters a ‘shit’ under his breath.

You take a step back, your eyes meeting Eddie's from inside, the commotion catching his and a few other patrons' stares, including your date.

Oh yeah, you had a date.

“I’m gonna need to see some I.D.” Steve’s voice drops deeper after he clears his throat, if his tamagotchi didn’t beep right after, signaling it’s need to be fed it would’ve been more intimidating. Your own digital pet buried at the bottom of your bag probably doing the same, already reborn fresh this morning from forgetting it at home while at work the night before.

“Umm, you see, I left my wallet at home,” the kid starts to stammer, the metal of his braces showing when he gives the bouncer a nervous grin.

Almost forgetting he had an audience, Steve’s eyes meet yours, softening before that million dollar smile takes over his handsome face.

“You’re free to go in. You know where to come when you wanna talk about all those things you liked hearing about me.”

Your stomach flutters despite the roll of your eyes at his words and you're reminded crossing the threshold that you’re here to meet another man, already scolding yourself for not taking Eddie’s warning seriously.

“I bet you’d like that wouldn’t you, Steve?” You linger in the door frame, looking at him from over your shoulder, and it makes the corners of his eyes crinkle.

“You already know the answer to that, gorgeous.” His toothpick switches sides again before finally going back to doing his job, tugging the kid closer.

“I.D. or no entry dick head.”

Despite there being no line outside, the bar was pretty full. The low buzz of conversation before the drinks really start to hit filling the crowded space. Mariah finishes her last high note when your eyes connect with Eddie’s before meeting Devin’s. He’s dressed like Danny Tanner and it makes you cringe. Pushing up his wire frame glasses, he waves so eagerly the Salmon’s that cover his dress shirt look like they're swimming in the background rapids with the movements of his arm. He’s completely oblivious to Eddie mocking him behind his back, mouthing ‘DORK’ with a shit eating grin before finally attending to the girl with smeared makeup that had been desperately trying to get his attention from the other end of the bar.

You take a deep breath, readjusting the strap of your bag before you push your chin up making your way over. Determined to have a good time, you put on your best face, returning his wave with forced enthusiasm while Steve’s smile etches itself into your memory permanently.

Paula Abdul’s Vibeology starts pumping through the speakers around you, the sticky floor vibrating with the bass under your sandals as you sway your hips to the beat. He stands up when you approach his spot at the bar and you notice his button up is tucked into mustard colored corduroy slacks, and it makes you miss the tight fitting denim of the man outside even more. Shaking your head to try and get rid of all the thoughts swirling in your head about the guy you weren’t on a date with, you desperately try to match Devin’s excited energy when he opens his arms for a hug.

“I was starting to get worried you were standing me up.” He laughs nervously as you tuck yourself into his chest. Your eyes peek over his shoulder meeting Eddie’s again as he slides your favorite drink over (tequila and pineapple), and god you wish you hadn’t.

Wiggling his eyebrows, you flip him the bird behind Devin’s back watching the bartender pretend to catch it and put it in his pocket making your eyes hit the back of your skull.

“No, sorry, I just lost track of the time.” Not a total lie you leave out the fact that you forgot about him completely just a few minutes ago. Pulling away, you avoid his eyes, too scared they’ll give you away.

“All is forgiven, pretty lady.” He bows slightly, and you have to ignore the way Eddie snorts as he walks past with hands full of Miller Lite.

“You’re so sweet,” cringing at how fake your voice comes out but Devin doesn’t seem to notice as you both take your seats, knees barely touching between the space of the stools.

“Thanks for agreeing to drinks tonight, I’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while now. Just didn’t know, w-with office etiquette a-and all,” stuttering, his nerves get the best of him. He tries to hide it behind a sip of his beer.

“No, I’m, I’m glad you did,”you lie, your eyes flicking to the door one more time before grabbing your drink. An awkward silence settles between the two of you as you press your lips to the rim to slurp at the top to prevent any spill over.

God, you already want this to be over.

The conversation does get easier after your first drink, the flirting a little less forced as your hand finds its way to squeeze his thigh when you laugh at something he says that’s only half funny. Choking on the foam from his beer from your sudden touch, he wipes his mouth bashful from his outburst. Eddie murmurs a “go easy on him tiger” when he gets you a refill, earning him your bratty tongue.

“So you transferred here last year from Portland, right Devin? What’s it like over there?” Resting your chin on your knuckles, you look up at him from under your lashes enjoying the way it makes his breath catch.

“It was- It was a lot different from here…”

Finally on your A game, you try not to pay attention when the front door opens behind your date. It’s to no avail when you catch his figure in your peripheral and you can’t fight it anymore. All the progress you’ve made going out the window when Steve makes his first reappearance since your arrival.

Toothpick replaced with what looked like Big Red chewing gum, his hazel eyes scan the crowd before landing on you. The smirk that you’d been trying to forget tugs at the corners of his lips, and any luck that Devin might have had with you tonight disappears like that.

The bouncer looks pointedly at the man beside you, sizing him up, smile stretching wider when he assesses his threat. Leaning against the wall, he crosses his arms across his chest so the sleeves of his shirt look like they are being pushed to their limits as the muscles in his biceps flex. Hips pushed out in a way that’s daring you to look below his waist, he throws you a wink with a snap of his gum.

“...So yeah, that’s the long and short , it,” Devin finishes with a proud smile and you just nod, not catching a single word he said.

Steve’s stare is relentless, and your body responds to it without you having to even meet his gaze. His tongue swipes across his bottom lip, jaw clenching with every hard chew of his gum. Pushing himself off the wall, he starts a slow walk towards you. Big heavy steps bring him closer, every thud of his boots making your thighs clench, as you try desperately to stay concentrated.

Your date’s in the middle of another story that sounds like white noise, your lack of attention making him a babbling mess. He doesn’t notice the way Steve stops next to him first, giving him a once over from up close to make sure he wasn’t missing something from afar before coming up to you with the kind of smile that’s dripping with trouble.

“....So the logistics of it are kinda crazy when you think-“

“Just checking on my pretty new friend over here,” Steve cuts Devin off, not interested in anything but you. His large hand finds the small of your back, his palm almost big enough to cover the exposed skin between your skirt and top. It sends a shiver up your spine that the pad of his thumb soothes when it rubs circles over your sprouting goosebumps. “Having a good night, baby?”

The pet name falls so smoothly off his tongue that it takes Devin a minute to realize that it even left Steve’s mouth, a scowl souring his face when he sees the way your eyes glaze over looking up at the bouncer.

“Yeah, I’m having a real nice time Steve.” Sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, he notices the subtle way you lean into his touch. Your body needy for more.

“You better be.” He winks, letting the blunt ends of his nails scratch along your back before adding salt to Devin’s wound, “And you know where to find me if that changes.”

There’s a knowing smirk that plays on the edges of his mouth, biting his lip he finally tears his eyes away from you to give a head nod to the date you’d forgotten about for the second time tonight. Steve tosses him a wink too, a gesture that makes Devin’s jaw clench. Steve opens his mouth to say something that was sure to piss him off more, but he’s cut off by the sound of Eddie’s rings slamming hard on the bar behind you.

“Dude! What the fuck are you doing inside? Do you know how many people have walked in without getting checked? It's PEAK hours!” The bartender's eyes are frantic, fingers running through his curls as he yells at his friend. “Quit flirting and go do your job. Also, is that a fucking kid man?”

Eddie points to the boy that the bouncer stopped earlier who was snooping around abandoned tables in search for leftovers he was definitely not of legal age for, Steve’s cheeks tint the color of your lipgloss when he looks at you with sheepish eyes. The confidence he was dripping with disappears into embarrassment while doing his best to ignore the smug look on your date’s face.

“Calm down man, it was three minutes! I’ll get rid of the fuckin’ kid. Again.” He rubs the back of his neck as he walks away, stalking towards the boy who looks like he’s seen a ghost. “Hey asshole! You must’ve grown eight years in twenty minutes for me to be seeing you here!”

The boy raises his hands up in surrender slowly backing away, giving Steve an opportunity to turn around to toss you one last smile and wiggle his fingers at Devin before focusing on the high schooler who is already halfway out the door. The kid's walk turns into a run when Steve cracks his knuckles for show, following him out with long strides, disappearing back outside and out of sight.

You’re left with awkward silence between you and your date as Eddie stomps away muttering under his breath. Devin clears his throat, twirling his beer, the glass against the wood making a sound that starts to grate on your nerves. He’s daring you to look at him. The huff he exhales afterwards begs you to look. Your mind races with ideas of how to get out of this and when you dare to finally take a peek, he’s looking forward, emptying the last of his bottle.

“I’m gonna go smoke a cigarette!” You blurt out, grabbing your bag and leaving no time for a response. Your sandals clack as you power walk to the door. To Steve.

The summer night is sticky on your face when you step out of the bar, the sound of a girl’s sniffled “You’re right Steve” directing your stare to the bouncer you were looking for. Sitting on the very stool you knocked him off of, his big boots sit on the lowest footrest with his knees spread wide. Inviting. His eyes connect with yours, widening a bit when you smirk at him while getting yourself comfortable on the brick wall on the opposite side of the door. Digging your cigarettes out of your purse, you notice the girl next to him has mascara running down her cheeks that she only makes worse when she wipes them with the back of her hand.

“You know Maryanne, it sounds like this isn’t the first time he’s done this to you. I think it’s time to kick him to the curb. You deserve better.” He speaks to her like they’ve been friends their whole lives and you have no idea how he’s learned so much about her in the few minutes he’s been outside. Crossing his arms as he leans back enough for the legs of the stool to pull up, he catches himself with his shoulders against the wall behind him.

“He sounds like a chump if you ask me,”you chime in, lighting your cigarette. Steve’s smile shines under the pink luminescent sign above him when he hears your voice. The wooden legs of his stool smacking loud against the cement when he pushes off the wall.

She’s startled by your sudden appearance, not noticing when you came out - too lost in her own world. She gives you a weak smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes before she nods, tugging at her high pony and somehow making it higher. The sequined scrunchy in her hair catches the street light as she tries hyping herself up to return to whoever was making her cry inside.

“He is a chump, but most men are.” She sighs, her shoulders relaxing a little more as she calms down.

“You’ve got this honey, tell him to fuck off and go home with Lisa if that’s what he wants so bad,” Steve champions, patting her on the back, a new layer to Maryanne’s story being revealed. His eyes flick back to you as you take a drag, the mossy green going dark when he watches your cheeks hollow.

“Thanks for listening Steve, I’m gonna go back in now.” She wipes her nose one more time, before giving you a polite head nod.

“Have Eddie make you something sweet, and tell him it’s on me.” The bouncer winks, giving her the boost of confidence she needs before opening the door you just came out of. Monifah’s Touch It adds to the tension between Steve and you when it leaks out of the bar as she disappears inside. The bass thumps against the brick, leaving the song just muffled enough to be background noise when it closes behind her.

The air is heavier, thicker with something you both know is there. Playing hard to get, you don’t meet his gaze, despite feeling it over every curve and dip of your body. Inhaling another hit of nicotine, you lift your head up to exhale the smoke into the dark sky, extending your neck for him to see before you finally give in and chance a glance in his direction.

He looks far too handsome, smiling wide when you meet his eyes, all his perfectly white teeth baring themselves at you in a way that makes your legs shake.

“Missed me already baby?” His feet hit the sidewalk, his man spread somehow bigger this way as he scoots closer to the edge of the stool.

“You’re not very good at your job, are you?” You grin, successfully dodging the answer he already knows as your head hits the side of the building. Tilting your chin in his direction with your lip tucked between your teeth, you catch his narrowed glare.

“Nice try sweetheart, I used to watch Road House, religiously. I learned from the best. I’m just distracted,” the buttery smoothness of his voice returns, the last of his sentence coming out in a purr.

“Distracted?” You quirk a brow, not giving into him just yet.

“Yes, very much so and I regret to inform you that it’s all your fault too.” He sticks his bottom lip out at you in a pout, earning the giggle he’d been trying to get again since he first heard it, even if it's accompanied by your pretty eyes rolling in the back of your head.

“I’m on a date, Steve.” Even though you know it’s a weak comeback at this point, you still give it and he doesn’t miss a beat.

“Where? I don’t see him.”

Your cheeks heat up at his observation so you take another drag of your half smoked cigarette to try and hide the way he’s affecting you.

“I’m supposed to be quittin’, but you’re makin’ it look too good, pretty girl. Let me have a puff?” His question is an invitation, making the first move to call your bluff, to get you closer.

“Is that why you seem to have a cinnamon addiction?” you tease, not surprised when you kick off the wall accepting it with a smirk and an exaggerated sway of your hips.

He licks his lips while his eyes roam the length of your body unashamed, one large hand raking through his hair when you stop close enough to smell the topic of discussion on his breath.

“Could be addicted to worse,” he murmurs, not sure where to look having you between his legs like this.

“It’s a Newport, S‘that okay, Steve?” you ask him from underneath flirting lashes. His breath hitching before a sly smirk spreads across his pink lips.

“More than okay baby.” He leans closer, fingers wrapping around the plush curve of your hip to anchor you in place.

Tipping up on your toes, your hand comes down on his thigh making the muscle flex against your palm, your touch sending shocks through the rough denim while the other holds the gloss stained end up to his mouth.

Steve holds your stare when his lips wrap around where yours just were. His nails dig half crescent moons into your exposed skin as his cheeks hollow out. You can feel your heartbeat between your legs, your brows meeting in the middle when he tugs you even closer before tilting his head up. The thick expanse of his neck on full display as he blows out his drag, adam's apple bobbing in the light making the moles dance across his skin.

“The strawberry really sets it off.” He grins as his hand dares to slide down the top curve of your ass, making it his new home when you make no moves to get away from him.

“Thanks, it’s my favorite gloss.” You shrug, pretending to unphased by his teasing, but the mess in your panties would give you away if he could see.

“Maybe I could get a better taste,” his words are bold, but his free hand is bolder. Soft fingertips play with the top hem of your skirt, daring to dip under the fabric every once and awhile and he swears he hears you whimper.

“You want more?” Your voice comes out small, dripping in honey just for him. You know what he really wants, but he’s not gonna get it yet.

“God, if you’ll let me honey.” There’s a light squeeze on the dough of your ass, and it makes you flutter around nothing.

You lean in slowly, your hand moving further up his thigh watching the way his chest starts to rise and fall from it. Stretching the cotton of his shirt with every breath. The fingers that had been exploring the top of your skirt start a path up to the bottom of your top. A low hum coming from under his breath when the sweetness of your body lotion hits his nose.

His eyes shut when your faces get close enough that he feels like he can taste the strawberry that he wants so bad. He doesn’t notice when you pull back at the last second to replace your kiss with another puff until your cigarette shoves past his puckered lips.

When he opens them, he’s met with your giggles, a sound he wants on a loop. He pretends to glare, still taking the hit you were offering him, exhaling it through his nose like an angry bull. He opens his mouth to chastise you but the beeping of his digital pet interrupts his intimidating moment again.

“Gotta get that?” Your lips twitch while you try to contain your laugh, flicking the cigarette onto the street.

“Listen, my best friend got it for me. I thought it was incredibly stupid, and I definitely told her it was too.” The hand on your waist leaves to dig his Tamagotchi out of his front pocket. “But now I’m attached to the little guy.”

The key chain sized toy lights up in his hand, as he starts to feed it with a press of a button.

“Mine died yesterday,” you admit and the laugh you’d been fighting off echoes loudly when he looks up at you horrified.

“What? Do you have it with you now?”he questions as the small happy tune plays signaling that his pet is fully satisfied.

“She’s somewhere in my bag, don’t worry she was reborn this morning,” your words don’t reassure him considering they seem to need food every thirty minutes and you haven’t pulled it out once since he’s met you.

“Sounds like you want her to die again to me.” Steve’s very real concern about your Tamagotchi has you smirking.

“They die so easily, you’re telling me yours hasn’t died?”

Your jaw drops when he shakes his head ‘no’, a smugness taking over his handsome features.

“Steve, that’s like really hard to do.” You don’t know whether you should be impressed or roast him but when his hand grips at your ass one more time you decide it’s the first.

“Better give her to me for the night baby, I’ll keep her nice and healthy for my favorite girl.” Stuffing his back into his pocket, he holds his palm open for you in a vow to keep your digital pet alive and an excuse to see you later.

Rolling your eyes playfully, you obey his wishes. Digging to the bottom of your bag till you find your purple one. The screen already going off, and the muffled beeping that signaled the need for it to be fed finally becomes loud enough to hear.

“See! I told you. On the cusp of death already.”

You drop it in his hand, right as an older trucker comes barreling out of the bar reminding you where you’re at and that Devin is still waiting inside. Again.

“Fuck, I should go back in.” You sigh as your fingers play with the seam on the leg of his jeans.

“Go back in and tell that guy to get lost,” the bouncer almost whines, his grip on your hip tightening before he lets you go.

“Steve,” you huff but the smile on your face gives him hope.

“Just saying sweetheart, could be fun.” He shrugs, putting on an air of nonchalance while your Tamagotchi dangles from his thumb.

You both know who you really want to go home with tonight.

The bubble you and Steve are in pops as soon as you get back inside The sound of the distant cars on the freeway and Steve’s voice is replaced with Return of the Mack and the crowd that was at a simmer when you first got here is now at a full boil.

You have to get rid of Devin.

He’s right where you left him, hunched over and twirling his beer bottle on top of the bar. You notice the three empty shot glasses before you see Eddie dropping off another one while giving you the kind of eyes that say ‘Come take care of your date’ as he walks away. Taking a deep breath, you make your way towards him going over all the ways you can let him down easy while your nerves drown out the little bit of guilt you had for ditching him.

“Heeeey,” your voice is high pitched, awkwardness dripping from its tone when you finally return to your stool next to him.

Crickets.

You freeze - he’s ignoring you. How can you get rid of him if he’s ignoring you? Your eyes shift around the bar nervously, offering an awkward tight lipped smile when anyone meets your stare. You search for Eddie again, hoping to silently ask for help but his back is to you, clearly putting the moves on a girl at the other end.

“Devin.”

You hope that saying his name will elicit the desired response but that dwindles quickly when he chugs the rest of his beer, continuing his charade and keeping his gaze forward before slamming the empty bottle down.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” he grumbles, irritation laced in every word before he pushes off the stool still not meeting your eyes.

You wait till he’s out of earshot before you let out a groan, your long disappearance clearly pissed him off. Propping yourself up by your elbows on the sticky bar, you close your eyes, rubbing your temples while you try to think of the right way to go about this. Eddie’s knowing chuckle is the last thing you want to hear but that’s just how the night is going now.

“You pretty little scoundrel!” He slaps the spot in front of you forcing your eyes open, his smile only widening when you glare at him.

“He’s so pissed and now thanks to you,” gesturing towards the empty shot glasses Eddie gets rid of with quick hands, you avoid the real reason, “He’s gonna be trashed!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa sweetheart. I’m not the one who can’t keep their hands off Stevie boy. And on a date too? Tsk tsk tsk.” He crosses his arms with a shake of his head, “Now you broke poor Derek’s -“

“Devin.”

“Whatever - fish guy’s heart. Aren’t you in a little predicament hmm?” Eddie hums the last part, but you can see the excited glint in his eyes. He loves watching your escapades.

“Listen,” you can’t help the giggle that bubbles past your strawberry lips under his knowing gaze, “When you told me he was hot Eddie, you didn’t tell me he was that hot.”

Smirking, you enjoy watching the way his face contorts knowing that was a damn lie.

“Are you kidding?” He throws his hands in the air, giving you the reaction you were baiting him for, “It was the first thing I told you.”

You laugh loudly at his exasperation with your antics, almost forgetting about Devin entirely for the third time tonight.

“Have fun figuring out this little love triangle you’ve created, I need to get to the rest of the paying customers so I can get back to that hottie at the end of the bar.” He points to the girl he was talking to earlier who’s sipping a drink she looks surprised to even like.

“I bet you aren’t charging her for anything are you?” You narrow your eyes playfully, cackling when he rolls his waving you off as he walks away.

Sliding off the stool, you tug up your tube top, ready to give it to Devin straight, more than eager to get back outside again.

“I knew the guys in the office said you were easy, but I didn’t think you’d be spreading your legs for anything that walked on our date.” Devin’s voice comes as a surprise, but the tight grip on your arm pulling you to him is an even bigger one.

Searing rage fills every part of your body at the fact that he put his hands on you, palms flat on his chest, you use all your strength to shove him away. Shock paints his features, not expecting you to fight back so aggressively. All the drinks he’s had make him stumble back, losing his footing almost falling into the couple next to him.

“Well I’m sure as shit not spreading them for you!” you spit, looking him up and down with disgust before putting a finger in his face, “And your shirt? It’s fucking ugly.”

You give him one last once over before shaking your head and walking away. Heading back towards the entrance, you notice Steve inside again. A hard glare is set on his face, nostrils flaring as he zeros in on Devin behind you who’s still trying to regain his balance.

God, it’s the hottest he’s looked all night.

Steve’s hazel eyes meet yours and they instantly soften when you can’t help but smile as he opens the door for you.

“Thanks Stevie,” using Eddie’s nickname, you run your hands across his chest when you walk by, just to add salt to Devin’s wound.

The flush that paints his cheeks tells you how much he likes it.

“When I told you to ditch your date, I didn’t mean to fist fight him, honey,” he teases, following you outside, letting the chipped red door shut behind you and muffling the sounds of the bar again.

“He got mad about my little disappearance before I could let him down easy.” Turning around, you bite your bottom lip to try to hide your growing smile.

“Poor guy.” Steve grins before taking the two steps to close the gap, to crowd your space. Cinnamon fanning across your face, “Never stood a chance.”

It’s harder for you to breathe when he looks at you like he wants to kiss you, but before you can respond, the door flies open.A drunk Devin stumbling out with a glare breaking you two apart.

“Of course, of FUCKING course. Not even two seconds later? You really are a slut, huh?” Devin seethes, stumbling out onto the sidewalk.

“I’m really going to need you to watch your mouth champ. No need to call girls names. You’re a big boy.” Steve’s tone is condescending as he squares up, making sure you’re behind him.

“You think you’re so fucking cool,” Devin scoffs before hiccuping, “Careful with this one, she’s probably sucked your buddy’s dick inside too.”

“Yeah, that’s enough, asshole. Go home, before I have to beat some respect into that ugly skull of yours.” Steve cracks his knuckles again, but it doesn’t have the same effect as before, Devin only raising his eyebrows at the bouncer.

“Respect? That’s funny. The whore behind you hasn’t heard of it.”

Steve loses his cool and like a flash he’s on him. Pulling his fist back Steve moves just a little too slow and Devin clocks him right in the jaw. The sound of bone against bone echoes loudly into the night. Stumbling back, Steve cradles where an ugly bruise will start forming in the morning, rubbing it out. He cracks his neck before barreling towards Devin, taking him down to the ground like a football player.

In a flurry of fists and cuss words, Devin somehow gets Steve pinned. The alcohol and anger flowing through his system turns him into The Hulk. Your screams for them to stop fall on deaf ears while they continue to roll around on the ground. Panic sets in when you realize neither man is going to stop. Doing the only thing you know how to do in these situations, you get Eddie.

Frantic, you open the door, ignoring the fact that Third Eye Blind is playing at the exact worst time, you scream Eddie’s name loud enough to silence the bar.

“Eddie! It’s bad. Steve needs you!”

He looks up from a clearly flirtatious conversation with the girl from before, both of their eyes landing on you as you get your friends attention. He grumbles, grabbing her hands saying something to her that makes her nod bashfully before jumping over the bar top. Jogging out the front, he towers easily over the two men, neither one of you bothering to check the red heads I.D. that walks in after you.

“The first fucking night man!” Eddie yells at Steve, grabbing Devin by the back of his shirt pulling him off the bouncer with ease, but not before Steve gets one more cheap shot in.

He wrestles against Eddie’s grip for a second before finally giving up with a hiccup, hocking a loogie in Steve’s direction.

“You done?” The bartender's face is unamused, as he waits for Devin to nod. “I never wanna see you or your shitty ass style at my bar again. Beat it bozo before I give you a matching black eye to go with the one Steve gave you.”

Two against one is too much for Devin to take on, so he raises his hands up in surrender when Eddie lets him go. Rolling his tongue against his cheek he shoots you one last glare before turning on his heel. Flipping everyone off as he starts down the sidewalk. Steve returns the gesture, spitting at his retreating form.

“You good?” Eddie asks, extending his hand for his friend to take.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Just hate that guy.” Steve mumbles, looking everywhere but at you while he straightens his shirt and dusts off his jeans with bloody knuckles.

“Your hand dude, I can’t have you bleeding all over people I.D’s. and I know Rick doesn’t have a first aid kit. At least I’ve never seen one.” Eddie rubs the back of his neck, stress coming in the form of knitted brows.

“I’ve got one,” you mumble, finally finding your voice and the bartender claps, wiping his hands clean of the situation.

“There, go play nurse with lover boy and get out of my hair tonight. I’m like this close,” he pinches two fingers together to show “to scoring and you both have been fucking it up every chance you can get. I swear to god.”

Eddie waves you off as he makes his way back in, and you can feel the shift in energy between you and the bouncer you’ve been wanting all night.

Steve’s quiet the whole walk up the stairs to your apartment, fuming with anger and embarrassment, the confidence from before gone while the bruise on his jaw deepens and he cradles his bleeding knuckles.

“This is me,” you break the silence cringing, your voice amplified in the walls of the narrow hallway while you dig out your key.

“Thanks for this, angel,” his words come out in just above a whisper but at least it’s something.

The endearment has a smile creeping across your face and you finally dare to turn around to get a look at him after you hear the click of your lock. You press your back against your open door, it’s your turn to extend an invitation.

“Anytime Stevie.”

His face softens the minute he lays his eyes on you again, jealous of the way you bite your bottom lip sweetly, he wishes it was him.

You let Steve into your world one heavy boot at a time, locking the door behind you. Watching the way his dimmed eyes brighten, curiosity winning over any leftover irritation. The ghost of a smirk twitches at the corners of his lips while he walks the small space of your studio taking everything in. The neon sign outside your window is the only light that illuminates it, shadows dancing off trinkets on shelves and pictures on walls, he was getting a glimpse of you.

He stops in the middle of your room, right at the edge of your bed. The dark denim and leather that cover him are a stark contrast against your baby blue rug, but you think he looks like he belongs here. You watch the way he takes in your hastily made bed, licking his lips when he sees a pair of panties that didn’t quite make it in the laundry basket in the corner. The radio you’d forgotten to turn off plays a commercial, filling the space between you, and you aren’t prepared for when he puts his full attention back on you again after not having it for the past twenty minutes. Your body responds immediately to the playful glint in his eye.

“Cute place, for a cute girl.” He grins, running his good hand through his hair before he walks over to the window to take a look at your view.

“I bet you say that to all of em’,” you tease because it’s easier to do with his back to you. Making your way to the bathroom, nerves burst like butterflies in your stomach.

“You’re the only one baby.”

His response is quick as he turns around, the flirting you’d grown accustomed to coming back like a raging storm. He watches your hips while you walk the short distance with a heavy stare that covers every part of you. Leaning against the door frame with your curves on full display, something shifts behind his eyes. Flipping the lightswitch, white beams break apart the pink, highlighting even more of you for him to drink in.

“Come on handsome, let’s get you patched up.”

His cheeks flush at the new nickname and it's his turn to bite his lip in a shy smile for you.

It doesn’t take more than a few steps for his long legs, the wood creaking under his weight. Pressing your back to the frame, he stops in front of you with one foot over the threshold and the other still in your room. He takes up so much space. His biceps flex when he reaches for your hip, tugging you even closer, you can smell the menthol still lingering on his breath. On instinct your palm hits his chest, muscles dancing under heated skin as you tilt your chin up to meet his eyes. Squeezing at your softness before he speaks, he lets his middle finger dip under the top of your skirt.

“I really meant it when I said thank you back there. Just need you to know that.” His finger dares to dip lower, rubbing circles that make your back arch, hips pushing forward on a search for his. The curve of your stomach touches the cool metal of his belt buckle and the heat of his body sets fire between your thighs.

“I know you did,” your voice is sweet for him, the tone you know he likes while your hand moves down the dip between his pecs, “Thank you for sticking up for me.”

You can feel the coarse hair that starts at the top of his belly button where your hand stops, and you swear you feel him twitch in his pants. A second one of his fingers finds its way under your skirt and another subtle tug gets you even closer. So close that all you’d have to do is stand on your tiptoes for your lips to touch.

“Anything for you, pretty girl,” he breathes, spice and tobacco taking over. His adam’s apple bobs when he catches the way you start staring at his lips, the gloss on your own shimmering in the new light.

“Anything?” Quirking your brow with a smirk, your innuendo makes him moan and his hold on you tighten.

“Absolutely.” Ducking his head lower so his nose brushes against the bridge of yours, he dares you to make the first move.

“In that case…” Pressing your toes down to push yourself up, the playful glint in your eye goes unnoticed by him.

Your lips are a ghost, his top one barely brushing against your bottom, it's enough for him to taste the strawberry he wanted more of outside but not enough to satisfy. His eyes flutter closed waiting to feel their full plushness but your words bring him back to reality.

“Sit on the toilet for me.”

The specks of emerald shine again when his eyes snap open to see you flat on your feet with a grin. Groaning loudly with fake irritation, he lets go of you in exasperated defeat, letting his head fall back and hit the wood of the frame.

“What? We came up here for my first aid kit, didn't we?” You giggle after you say it, you don’t mean it.

“Sure, sure, yeah, yeah.” Nodding, he runs a hand through his hair while he looks around your bathroom.

It smells like your coconut body wash and it drives him crazy. He takes an unexpected step forward, his hand finding its way back to your hip to push you against the wall. One heavy boot between your wedged sandals, getting just close enough to kiss you. Is he going to?

It's your eyes that flutter closed this time, your fingers wrapping themselves around his belt loops again. He’s tentative with his injured hand when he uses it to cradle your jaw. His palm is soft as it covers half your neck, his thumb pushing up against your chin to tilt your face up to his. He runs the tip of his nose along your cheek and you feel your knees start to get weak, a whimper begging to fall from your parted lips.

“If that’s the only thing we’re here to do then we should get to it then, huh?”

Just as quick as he invades your space, he leaves it. The porcelain of your toilet seat cover clunks loudly when he drops himself on it. Spread out like on the stool outside, he takes over the room, leaving you to catch your breath with a smug grin.

It’s a staring contest with narrowed eyes after that, but the twitch of your lips tells him you aren’t actually mad. He snorts when you clear your throat to regain your composure, purposely ignoring the obvious when you bend over to open the cabinet under the sink, pulling out the bright red zip up bag.

“We need to wash your knuckles first, then I’ll put some ointment on them and wrap it up for you. We’ll keep it that way for the night and we can check on it in the morning.” The words leave your mouth before you can stop them and he catches the slip up instantly.

“Oh? You need to keep me overnight for observations?”

You bite your lip to try and hide your smile, grabbing a washcloth running it under hot water instead of looking at him.

“You know what I meant, I’ll come check on it tomorrow when you get to work.” You don’t even believe your lie, and the toothy smile you catch from the corner of your eye tells you he doesn’t either.

“But nurse, I don’t know. I think I should stay, I got hit in the face too. Concussions you know? I really shouldn’t be alone tonight.” He lays it on thick, eating up the way he sees you loving it spreading across your face when you ring out the soapy rag.

You don’t try to hide it when you finally face him, or when you settle between his legs for the second time tonight. The new position has him eye level with your chest, easier access to his lips. You hold your palm out for him, your hand disappearing completely when he drapes his wounded one over it.

“Concussion, huh? Are you feeling light headed Steve?” You play along giving your best impression of a medical professional.

He hisses when you press the damp cloth to his knuckles, sucking in air between his teeth when you start to clean. The soothing circles the pad of your thumb rubs on the side of his hand is almost enough to distract him from it.

“Yeah, but that started before I got hit.”

You finally dare to meet his gaze, a flattered smile spreading wide across your face that you try to play down with a roll of your eyes.

“Hmmm,” you hum to yourself, deciding not to give in just yet as you switch from the rag to the ointment, getting the bandaging and medical tape out.

“I mean, you’re the professional honey. You tell me.” You feel his good hand tug at the bottom of your skirt while you smear the neosporin on his knuckles with a q-tip, his long fingers flexing at the cooling effect.

“It started before you got hit?” You question with a fake pensive expression, gently taking his palm in your hand to start the wrapping process.

“Yeah, you see, this girl hit me with a door earlier. Knocked me clean off my stool.” He makes the motion of him falling with a swipe of his hand, “ and I haven’t been the same since if I’m being completely honest.”

It takes everything inside you to not give him the satisfaction of a laugh, the way you met coming back to the forefront of your mind.

“Some would argue putting your stool in front of the door like that is kinda stupid, but that's just my professional opinion.” Your shrug earns a loud laugh from him and you relish in it, promising yourself you’ll get him to do it again.

“All done.” You let go of his hand and he already misses you holding it, but the proud look on your face is a good distraction while you admire your handy work.

He holds it up, and you still can’t get over just how big they are. Curling his fingers in before extending them, he only winces slightly from the pain. The pressure of the bandage already helping. He jumps slightly when the backs of your fingers smooth over the fresh bruise forming on his jaw, the stubble tickling your skin. His eyes watch yours as they rake over the damage, the softness of your touch almost enough to make his eyelids heavy when you stroke the sore spot again.

“What do you think, huh?” His question comes out quiet, the playful edge gone while both his hands find the back of your legs. Rough fingertips run up your calves, catching the bottom of your skirt as they go, “Are you gonna keep me baby?”

A shiver runs up your spine when he hits the back of your thighs and you feel yourself getting pulled closer. He drags his nose up the bare skin of your sternum while his hands grab doughy handfuls just below the curve of your ass. The sound of your moan when his fingers get high enough to just barely graze the soaked material between your weakening legs sends him into overdrive. Growling, he nips at the tops of one of your breasts.

“Come on, tell me, what’s it gonna be?” Despite trying to sound confident, there’s a desperation in the way he asks. He knows you want it but he needs you to say it.

It’s when his fingers slip under the lace trim of your panties that you finally give in with a gentle grab of his chin. His eyes are black when they meet yours, the ends of his nails digging into soft skin.

“Yeah, I’m gonna keep you.” You give into an urge you’ve had since you laid eyes on him, tangling your fingers in his hair as you spread yourself open for his hands to wander.

He doesn’t hold back anymore and you’re reminded of just how tall he actually is when he stands up. His actions are quick and with purpose, the strength you knew was behind those muscles showing itself when he lifts you onto the edge of the sink with your skirt rucked up to your hips. He man handles you in a way no one ever has and you feel it light a fire in your gut. Impatient for his next move, you grab the collar of his shirt while his hands spread wide over the tops of your thighs, your lips finally getting to do what they’ve wanted all night.

It’s soft at first, both of you moving slow as you figure out what the other likes, careful not to hurt his jaw. One of his hands finds its way back to your cheek, the pad of his thumb rubbing the length of the bone while his tongue begs you to open up. He traces the top of your lip, shuddering at the taste of the strawberry and it makes him wonder if your skin tastes like the coconut he smells.

You give him the access he wants, your tongues meeting in the middle, making the fire that had been begging to consume you pour out from your fingertips that bury themselves into the roots at the nape of his neck. You need more. The hard length that has been fighting against the denim of his jeans presses hard into where you want his attention, your legs wrap around him - silently begging him to do it again.

One arm snakes around your lower back, holding you flush against his chest, the grind of his hips giving you the friction that makes you keen. A moan and a breathless “fuck” is what breaks your lips apart when his zipper catches your swollen clit with just the right amount of pressure. He uses his new found freedom to kiss down the length of your jaw, humming against your heated skin when you tilt your head to give him better access to all the sensitive places he can’t wait to discover. He sucks the soft spot behind your ear when you meet the next roll of his hips, your slides falling loudly off your feet to the tile floor.

“Steve,” his name comes out in a high pitch whine when he starts sucking a bruise in a place you know you’ll have to try and cover up for the next few days. He was marking you, and you could care less. You hold him there, encouraging more as his teeth graze your pulse point, a “baby” slipping past his lips when he finally pulls away.

He meets your eyes with flushed cheeks and messy hair and the kind of hunger that makes you melt.

“Let me take you to bed, let me take care of you,” he’s panting, his hold on you tightening so you can feel just how bad he needs this. A smirk spreads across his swollen lips when your hips shift in search for more, giving him the answer he needs along with the nod of your head.

Just as easy as he lifted you on the sink, he carries you to the bed, big hands cradling thick thighs before he lays you on your back. Your giggle fills the space in between heavy pants before TLC’s Creep starts playing over the speakers of the radio. His hands find their way to the bottom of his shirt, pulling it over his head and you watch an expanse of new freckles and moles get revealed to you. You want to kiss them all. They dot the spots next to the dark hair over his belly button while the thick thatch of chest hair you’d only gotten a glimpse of glistens with beads of sweat in the glow of the Foxy Lounge light.

His jeans hang low enough for you to get a glimpse of the veins protruding from the V shape that leads to the part of him that’s sure to make you forget your own name. His grin is cocky when he recognizes the expression on your face. Grabbing your ankle, he pulls you closer to the edge of the bed. The bottom of your foot resting on the soft hair of his chest while long fingers hold you in place. He keeps his eyes trained on yours while he starts to trail wet kisses down the inside of your leg. The stubble covering his jaw scratching along his path in the best way. He stops when he gets to the soft skin of your knee, nipping playfully, he smirks at the squeal it earns him before he drops your leg in favor of curling his fingers under the top of your skirt.

You lift your hips for him without him having to ask, and the flash of his teeth is almost enough to blind you. He’s slick with his movements, taking your panties too. You hear his breath catch in his throat when he sees the effects all his teasing has on you. His fingers grip at your thighs before pulling your sticky skin apart with a lick of his lips.

“Look at you baby, all this for me?” The last part of his question comes out in a groan when he swipes the pad of his thumb against your bundle of nerves, kicking up in his jeans when your legs shake in response. “So sensitive too. Let me make her feel good, yeah?”

He swipes his thumb against your clit again making your eyes shut tight and your hips buck.

“I need to hear you say it.” He keeps rubbing circles, applying just enough pressure for you to forget how to speak, “Come on, be a good girl for me.”

His other hand pulls down your tube top, breasts spilling out in the blush light for his eyes to devour. He groans at the sight, his other hand coming up to cup the soft flesh feeling the way your nipples pebble against the warmth of his palm.

“Steeeeve, please.”

You’re whining for him and it makes his brows pinch together, feeling drunk off you.

“God angel, you’re fuckin’ beautiful you know that?” He emphasizes his question with his hands, giving your sides a squeeze while his eyes roam every dip and curve of your body. “Turn around for me? I wanna see all of you.”

The look on his face makes you decide that you’ll never deny him anything he asks, giving him a nod, you run your hands up his arms, nails dragging across the light hair before you push yourself up to get on all fours.

You feel completely exposed to him like this, all the secret places of your body on full display. He’s quiet for a minute and it’s almost enough for your nerves to get the best of you until you feel his palm find the apple of your ass. Fingers digging into doughy flesh, a groan loud enough to drown out the music erupts deep from his chest.

“Baby, baby, babyyy,” he emphasizes the last endearment with another handful before pulling your cheeks apart to get a better look at your dripping cunt, “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever fuckin’ seen.”

Your hips wiggle at his words, your walls fluttering around nothing while the cool air from the overhead fan hits your heat, sending goosebumps dancing across your supple flesh. A dark chuckle leaves him when he sees how much power his words have over you. His knees hit the side of the mattress, one hand hooking around your hip while the other runs down the dip of your spine giving you a light push when he hits your shoulder blades until you're bent over for him.

“She likes when I talk to her, huh?” his voice is low, mesmerized when you start dripping on the bed for him and he’s barely touched you, “She likes when I call her pretty doesn’t she?”

The moan that leaves your mouth is pathetic and he wishes he could record it.

“Playing hard to get all night, but look at you.” His good hand comes down hard enough on your ass for the fat to jiggle and you to fist handfuls of your comforter because of it, “Making such a filthy mess and I haven’t even put my mouth on you yet.”

His grip is rough when he tugs your hips, the outline of his dick pressing into you, the denim scratching against your clit in a way that has your eyes rolling in the back of your head.

“Tell me how much you want my mouth baby, tell me how much you want me to make you cum.” He grinds against you again, only this time making sure to apply the kind of pressure that makes your back arch.

“Fuck - Steve, please I want it. I’ve wanted it all night. I’ve wanted it all night,” you're babbling as he circles his hips, fingers kneading your soft skin.

Satisfied with your answer he mumbles a “so good for me” as he pulls away he gives you another light slap to your ass - signaling for you to scoot up, your mattress dipping behind you when he gets on his knees.

Big hands spread you apart, your forehead hits the comforter when you feel the heat of his breath against your slick folds. Your walls flutter, begging for his attention when his tongue runs a long stripe up your slit. He hums at the taste before he does it again, this time making sure to circle your clit before lapping up everything you were drenching him with like he was thirsty for it.

“Oh my god,” you huff into your blankets, toes curling when he starts an assault against your bundle of nerves, the pointed tip of his nose pressing deeper into your entrance as he gets lost in the sounds he’s pulling from you.

His fingers stretch across the tiger stripes on your butt cheeks, pulling you even further apart to give him better access. The coil inside you already threatening to snap when he sucks hard on your clit. He lets it go with a loud pop, smirking to himself at the way he has your body shaking from overstimulation already.

“Taste so fuckin’ good. Strawberries, just like your lips.” He groans, inhaling your scent like a man starved, his good hand coming down on your cheek again only this time a little harder pulling out another broken moan from you.

“Can I taste all of you pretty girl?”

There’s zero hesitation when you say ‘yes’, in fact it’s a little desperate. He could have whatever he wanted from you now. Not even sure what he means, your brain’s too fuzzy with lust to comprehend anything until you feel the tip of his tongue circle a place you’d never let anyone else go before.

“Holy shit - Steve.” The new sensation sends another wave arousal to your dripping core, a needy whine following it when he does it again.

“This okay?” He kisses the curve underneath the apple of your cheek, the softness of his voice comforting you while he checks in.

“God, it’s, it’s -“ He gives you another kitten lick and it makes your eyes roll in the back of your head, “It’s more than okay - Jesus Christ.”

Too lost in the feeling of him testing the tightness of you with his tongue, you aren’t expecting his thick finger to start circling the entrance he’d been neglecting, the one you need him to fill the most. Your silk walls welcome the intrusion with ease, the stretch only stinging a little when he pushes to the last knuckle while his tongue starts getting a little more bold. Your back arches when he groans against you, curling his finger to hit the spot only you’d ever been able to find with ease. He adds a second digit when you start bucking against his face, the new addition almost makes you run away. He tsks at you from buried between your butt cheeks, one large hand locking you in place when he starts feeling you get close.

“Give it to me,” he demands, coming up for air. Fingertips relentless against the spot that has you squelching loudly.

His mouth returns to the sensitive part of you, tongue circling your tightness in a way that has you finally snapping. Your walls constrict, wrapping around his fingers while your vision goes white. Your body freezes, the orgasm overwhelming your muscles with a violent shake, his name falling from your lips like it’s the only word you know. You feel him grin against you, the movements of his fingers only slowing down but never stopping, milking every last drop you give him.

“So good, so pretty when you cum baby,” he mumbles praises, his lips kissing anywhere they can reach while your body comes down from its first high.

You feel his weight leave the mattress, hear the metal of his belt buckle clinking followed by the low thump of his jeans hitting the floor. You find enough strength to look over your shoulder and it’s enough to make you whimper. Steve’s big. Dark hair at the base, it’s thick and curved, the pretty pink tip leaking just for you. The long vein that runs up the side pulses when he gives it a couple of tugs before his knees hit the mattress again.

His hands spread over your hips pulling you closer before he starts trailing kisses up your back, the silver of his chain making you shiver as it runs up your spine till his lips stop right at your ear.

“You ready for me?”

Your eyes meet his and they’re pitch black, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you know yours looks the same when you give him a nod but you know that’s not going to be enough for him.

“Come on, you know what I need,” his tone is mocking as he grabs his cock at the base, swiping his head through your folds, smirking at the way you try to suck him in, your body greedy for him.

“Please, please, please, please.”

All your self respect goes out the window when he pushes the tip in and you can’t stop repeating yourself. The stretch is already bigger than his two fingers and he wasn’t even half way in yet and for a brief moment you wonder if he’ll even fit.

“Fuck - baby.”

He moans as he pushes further, sheathing himself half way and he feels the way it makes your legs shake. His hand sneaks around your waist to find your clit, slippery fingers rubbing circles to get you to open up more as he rolls his hips one more time bottoming out. He groans so loud you’re sure anyone who might be smoking outside of the bar can hear him.

“Holy shiiiit, I’ve never had pussy like this.” He stills, adjusting to how tight you feel, and it’s his turn to babble as you constrict around him making him twitch - dangerously close to cumming already.

“You feel so good Stevie,” you whine as you push back against him, taking his length even deeper, feeling every curve and ridge of him against your walls.

He pulls out half way before slamming back in and it makes him curse under his breath before he does it again, only harder.

“God, fuck- this is all mine now, yeah?” he mutters, an angry edge to his words when he thinks about Devin getting to do this.

“Mmhmm,” your answer is automatic, no thoughts behind your eyes while his cock fills you in the way you fantasize about when you touch yourself.

“That’s right baby, it’s mine. You’re mine.”

His thrusts get aggressive as he gets closer to his release, your slick making it easy for him to slide almost completely out before pushing back in. The rough hair covering his pelvis rubbing your clit at the same time his tip reaches the same spot his fingers pulled your first orgasm from.

“Shit, Steve, right there.” Your jaw goes slack, eyes closing tight when he hits it again, your words spurring him on while he tries to re-grip his hold on your sweat-kissed skin.

“Yeah? you want more?” He makes sure to put all his attention where you want, slowing his hips just enough to hit it even harder. “I’ll give you more.”

Steve tilts his head to the side watching how you wrap around him, and the way he barely has to push back in, your greedy walls doing almost all the work when he finds the perfect pace that has you twisting the sheets.

He huffs out a cocky laugh and it makes you tighten in response, tears pricking the corners of your eyes.”Yeah, I know baby. I know. You gonna cum again for me?”

“Uh-huh,” you manage to get out with a nod but it’s not enough for him, he needs you loud enough for Devin to hear from across town.

The sound of skin slapping against skin drowns out the music, keeping his stamina up despite the twitch of his cock, he bends over, somehow getting deeper, the cool metal of his chain dragging across your back while one hand snakes under your waist. His fingers are unrelenting when they find their way to your puffy clit again, applying just enough pressure to get your legs to shake for him.

“I’m gonna ask again, are you gonna cum for me?” He keeps his voice even, but he knows he’s not gonna last much longer, especially not when your cheek hits the mattress and you meet his eyes looking like that.

“Yeah, god, yeah Steveee! Please, please, please.” You don’t even know what you’re begging for but it makes Steve’s resolve break.

The moan he lets out is loud enough to echo off your wall, warmth flooding your insides as he cums hard enough to collapse against your back. It’s enough to send you over the edge for the second time. Your walls fluttering enough to make his nails dig crescent moons into your hips with a low “fuck” escaping him as you milk him for more with the sweetest chant of his name he’s ever heard.

“That’s it baby.” He coos lips placing sloppy kisses along the your shoulder blades when you collapse against the mattress, your bodies tangled in a way you don’t have the energy to leave quite yet.

The radio cuts out leaving just the sound of the two of you trying to catch your breath, you can faintly hear ‘Pony’ playing from the bar below but the sound of a car driving past quickly snuffs it out. You feel his nose nudge against your ear, a slow lazy smile creeping across your face when his lips brush your temple.

“I don’t think you have a concussion, but you better stay the night just in case.”

His laugh vibrates against your back, a toothy grin pressed to your skin.

“It’s always better to be safe than sorry,” he agrees. The response you somehow managed to conjure up gets lost on your tongue when both your long forgotten Tamagotchi’s go off in his abandoned pants in a matching tune you’d never heard before.

“Our babies need daddy, honey,” he groans, slowly lifting himself up on his elbows.

You roll your eyes with a snort as he trails kisses down your back only wincing slightly when he pulls himself out. Folding your arms under your head, you still can’t bring yourself to move, but the view of him naked and still semi hard while he holds the two digital pets in his hand with a confused expression isn’t one you really can turn away from.

“What?” Your curiosity is piqued when his eyes grow big.

“No fuckin’ way,” he mumbles more to himself than you, “I didn’t even know they could do this.”

“What??” The irritation is clear in your voice, the feeling of being left out turning you into a brat.

“Umm, I think they had babies… yep. Marty definitely got her pregnant.” The smile on his face gives away just how excited he actually is and you hate to admit that it’s contagious.

“Well we’re gonna have to figure out a child support plan I’m afraid. Daisy’s a free woman Steve.” The serious delivery makes him do a double take before he narrows his eyes.

“Child support? No, we're raising these kids together. So I’m gonna need you to care a little bit about keeping her alive. It's not just you here honey.” He tosses you the toy before jumping back on the bed pulling your body into his chest with ease, “I’m afraid you’re never getting rid of me.”

---

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x y/n #eddie munson #my writing #whatta man

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msbigredmachine · 6 months

Text

New To This - Chapter 1

Jaded by her fiancé’s disinterest in her ambitions to become a professional wrestler, Delilah Parrish’s life takes an interesting turn when one of WWE’s top names offers her the support she’s not getting at home.

Pairing: Jey Uso/OC

Warnings: As we go along...

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: This was initially a Roman fic but I realized I have too many upcoming stories featuring him, so I switched it up and passed it off to Jey. Hope you enjoy!

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“Come on, Parrish, move your ass! Get on her!”

The damp, unruly strands of baby hair in Delilah Parrish’s eyes temporarily obscured her vision and made it difficult to take on her trainer’s instruction. Brushing them away impatiently, her mind flitted to the next line of offense, but her opponent had tackled her to the canvas before her thoughts could fully register. The hard surface made unfriendly contact with her body, but the rushing adrenaline helped fight off the pain, and she battled with her opponent trying to twist her body into a sleeper hold. Delilah tried to concentrate on countering the hold, but between the hundreds of thoughts scrambling around her head and the yelling coming from outside the regulation wrestling ring, it was a near impossible feat.

“For fuck’s sake, Parrish, what are you doin’?” Pounding his palm hard on the mat, her trainer, Makena 'Tank' Kalua, shouted again. “Quit pullin’ her arm like that! You’re gonna break it!”

The other woman, an older, more experienced student named Janie from England, easily slipped out of the armbar Delilah was attempting on her and sat up, seizing both of Delilah’s legs and twisting them in a figure-four leg lock. Usually it was Delilah’s job to sell this move, try to roll over to ease the pressure, or even grab the bottom rope for relief, just like she’d learned. Instead, she kicked her legs carelessly, grunting as she wildly fought out of the hold.

“What the fuck! Is that what I taught you?” Tank screamed again. Blowing the whistle around his neck, he reached under the bottom rope and grabbed Delilah by her leg, forcibly dragging her out of the ring and setting her on her feet. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Huffing irritably, Delilah yanked her arm away from him and marched away to the other end of the warehouse, ignoring Janie and the other girls that glared wearily after her, wondering what Tank saw in her to begin with. Delilah wondered that herself sometimes.

Ever since she was a little girl growing up in the tiny town of Pensacola, Florida, she dreamed about being in the middle of the fabled squared circle, performing for sellout crowds all over the world, making a name for herself in the notoriously tough wrestling business. And now she was finally getting her chance. In two days’ time, she would be partaking in her very first singles match, lacing up the boots she had worked two extra shifts at the local gym to afford. At last, she was taking that small step towards her dream.

So why did she not feel ready? Why was she doubting herself at the last hour?

One word; Andre.

She was starting to lose count of how many fights they’d gotten into in the six months since she’d embarked on what her fiancé openly thought was her childish desire to become a professional wrestler. Once he realized that it wasn’t just some hobby she would lose interest in after a week, his support began to dwindle more and more as the months went on. There were heated arguments between them on a weekly basis it seemed, mostly on what her ambitions were costing the couple financially. After all, they still had a wedding to plan; their already tight budget was being nibbled at by her exorbitant wrestling class fees. There were bills to pay around the house; she’d already squandered a month’s salary to purchase her wrestling outfit and boots. Yesterday, Delilah had kept quiet, refused to argue, and let Andre vent all he wanted. But this morning, her nerves were starting to kick in over her upcoming match, and when Andre began another tirade as he headed out to work, she not-so-politely shut him down. Tempers were lost and words were exchanged, and both left the house angry. Delilah hadn’t heard from him all day. Secretly, she was glad. She didn’t need his crap today.

Evidently, Tank didn’t need her crap either. The trainer usually gave her some leeway but today he wasn’t having it at all. “Hey, get your ass back here!” His deep, angry voice sounded behind her. He grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him. “Where ya goin’ huh? You wanna run home like a little girl?” he asked her. “Go ahead, go.”

“Just stop, alright?” Delilah snapped, her fists clenched involuntarily as she fought the urge to hit him right in his face. Unfortunately she didn’t stand a chance against him, not when he weighed over a hundred pounds more than she did and was an entire foot taller than her, and certainly not with his over two decades of wrestling experience in comparison to her puny half-year.

Moving closer to her, Tank placed a calloused hand on her shoulder. “What’s goin’ on Dee? You’ve been acting up today.”

Delilah knew she was among the very few trainees Tank afforded the luxury of his concern and sympathy. She liked to think it was because she was one of the teachable ones, easily picking up the wrestling moves like she’d been doing it for years. She was always one of the first to arrive and one of the last to leave, helping set up the ring and take it down after classes. Her attitude was refreshing, and she eventually managed to become something resembling a friend to him.

But there was only so much friendship could do for her current situation. Running a hand through her hair, Delilah tried to figure out where to start answering his question. She was fuckin’ tired, for one. She was wrestling in front of an actual crowd in a mere forty-eight hours. Her fiancé was being an ass. Her pride however, wouldn’t let her say those things out loud. That he considered her to be a friend didn’t mean she had to go crying to him for every problem she had. “It’s nothing, I’m fine,” she murmured, choosing to focus on the Polynesian tribal tattoo spread over his right arm.

Tank rolled his eyes with a huff. “We both know that’s bullshit, but if you say so.” Turning back for the ring, he sighed heavily. “You got sixty seconds to clear your head, then you get your ass back in that ring. We got shit to do so hurry up.” With that, he walked away.

She expected no other response. He never coddled her, not during working hours anyway. She didn’t want him to, either. The last thing she wanted to look was weak in front of fellow trainees; people, as Tank always reminded her, who wanted this career, who wanted this life, more than anything else in the world. And that brought her back to the same question she’d been asking herself for months.

How badly did she want it?

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The next couple of hours seemed to go on forever. Tired, bruised and battered from a long day of training, Delilah hitched her bag over her shoulder and cast a glance at the round black clock on the wall as she walked towards the exit of the warehouse. Andre had sent a text message that filled her with hope of reconciliation after their heated morning. Maybe they could sit down and talk about what had happened, and hopefully work things out like they always did.

“Hey, Parrish, come here a sec,” Tank's voice sounded out of nowhere. “Got someone I want you to meet.”

Sighing heavily, Delilah turned her gaze towards the doorway of the small office where he stood. “Do I have to? I gotta meet up with Dre.”

“He’ll be there when you get home,” he dismissed her excuse. “Come say hi. You won’t regret it, come on.”

With a quiet groan, Delilah shuffled toward the office. “I hope not,” she mumbled, stopping short when her eyes fell upon the hulking, tattooed figure sitting on Tank's desk. Her eyes widened and her jaw slackened, unable to believe what she was seeing. “Oh shit!”

Tank's grin widened as he pushed her further into his office. “Told ya. Delilah, meet Jey Uso. Jey, this is one of my students, Delilah Parrish.”

Standing up from his place on the edge of his friend’s desk, Joshua Fatu extended a hand to the toned beauty standing in front of him. He smiled when she placed her hand in his, noticed how it trembled. “Sup, Delilah, nice to meet you,” he said.

Delilah tried to reply, but her mouth seemed to have forgotten its primary function. She could feel her face burning as she continued to hold his large hand, wanting to let go but somehow unable to. It wasn’t every day she shook hands, or was even within a mile radius of Main Event Jey Uso himself. She’d been a big fan of his ever since his debut with his brother, Jimmy. To see them evolve and grow from a tag team to singles stars was so rewarding. The Bloodline storyline was must-see TV for her, and she had found herself sympathizing with the Right Hand Man over the course of the storyline. She followed him on X and Instagram, and had a couple of his Yeet T-shirts. To be in the presence of a man whom she watched on TV every week, a guy she grew to idolize and respect so much, was beyond mind-blowing.

Before her silence could grow awkward, Delilah removed her hand from his grasp. She’d always hoped that the day she got to meet a WWE Superstar, she’d act much cooler and more composed and not like the average tongue-tied fan. She knew she just failed miserably.

Josh crossed his muscled arms over his chest, his gaze firmly on her face. “So Delilah, Tank tells me you gotta lot of potential, uce. Says you’re very talented,” he said, his deep, gruff voice tinged with curiosity.

“Well, all those bumps he’s taken over the years have finally damaged his brain cells,” she said sarcastically, smiling when she drew a laugh from both men, particularly Jey.

“Nah, I’ve known this fool for damn near twenty years now,” said Josh, jerking his thumb in Tank's direction, “If he say you got talent, then you got talent.” He sat back on the desk and let his eyes admire her, silently wondering just how smoking hot the body hidden underneath the baggy clothes was. “So how long you been training?” he inquired.

Delilah shoved her hands into the pockets of her sweatpants. “I started working out about nine months ago, tryna get in ring shape,” she answered. “But I’ve been training for about six.”

Josh nodded his head. “And your first show’s the day after tomorrow, right?” he queried, keeping his eyes on hers.

“My first match,” she corrected him. “I’ve been to a few shows, done some ring announcing, valeted a couple of times,” she added proudly, as though that would make her look more credible in her idol’s eyes. As she spoke, she stole the chance to look him over. Diamond Cuban links glittered around his neck and both his wrists and gave a shine to his fitted Nike sweatsuit that covered up the tattoos she knew decorated a good portion of his russet skin. He was taller than she expected, and just as ruggedly handsome. And those eyes…a hint of danger lurked behind the jovial, friendly facade, very much giving off bad boy vibes. Against her will, she was intrigued.

Ignoring the eye-fucking session going on in his office, Tank patted Josh’s shoulder. “A’ight y’all, time to get outta here.” He ushered the two of them out of his office and towards the exit of the gym.

“So…what brings you back to town, Jey?” she asked Josh as they walked side by side behind Tank.

The Samoan smiled at the young woman who hadn’t stopped blushing since they met. “Not much. Just hangin’ out with family and shit,” he replied. “Thought I’d come visit my mans over here, but now I hear there’s a show in town, I may just stick around a while longer.” He paused, noting the way her face paled a little. “You nervous?”

Delilah blew out a breath. “Honestly? I’m terrified.”

Josh shook his head. “Naw, don’t be. Focus on all the positives, how far you’ve come, and you’ll be fine.”

She nodded and bit her lip. That was reassuring, just a little bit. “Thanks,” she said, noting that her trainer’s car was heading their way. Tank always dropped her off at home as he lived not too far off from hers. “Well, I better get going. It was so cool to meet you, Jey,” she added, thinking it better to wave this time rather than shake hands.

“Same here Delilah. And trust me when I say I’ll be seeing you more often in the future,” Josh replied.

For some reason, it sounded to Delilah like there were a handful of promises in those words, but she waved off the silly notion immediately and opted to leave before she made a fool of herself in front of the Jey Uso. It felt like she was walking on air as she approached Tank's car, still star-struck, still stunned by the last couple of minutes that had just happened.

But then, as she slammed the car door shut, she remembered what was waiting for her at home, and with a tired sigh, she was forced to push the moment away, forced to forget about the intense brown eyes that continued to stare after her even as the car drove away from the warehouse.

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Thank you all so much for reading and commenting!

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