#big ten champs

[obsessive-evie]

DEEEAAAA LAWDD HAVE MERCAY

😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

[illpadrino]

[practically-an-x-man]

steam summer sale is going to have me making a poor financial decision

[monstersflashlight]

Imagine werewolf bf x werebunny(?) with a predator/prey kink and werewolf bf chases her in the woods and it’s just total smut and filth.

Hope that makes sense

Hi! <3 I hope you like this, it turned out to be a bit more fluffy than expected.

Little rabbit, bad wolf

Werewolf x fem!werebunny || predator/prey kink, chasing, dirty talk, knotting

It started as a bet. If he caught you, you were supposed to be his bunny maid for a week, costume included. But if he didn’t, he would build you a nice burrow for your heat. It was a good deal, and you were sure you could outsmart him. He gave you a head start, just a few minutes, but you thought it would be enough. So you took off your clothes and ran. You ran as fast as you could and found the perfect little spot to hide your quivering body.

When you agreed to play this with him, you weren’t expecting to be so fucking turned on. You thought it would be fun, but the heat pooling on your lower abdomen, and the slickness between your thighs were a new development. The idea of him running after you, him chasing you… it was driving you insane.

A thousand and one ideas were running around your mind as you hide. What would he do when he found you? Would the big bad wolf eat you? Would he go feral for you? Would he grab you by the hair and pull you to his cock? Would he make you get on all fours and ride you until you were panting and drooling over the forest floor? So many possibilities that were only making your breath faster, harder. You needed to calm down if you wanted him to lose.

He had to look for you for more than ten minutes if you wanted to win, just ten minutes and then you won a new burrow. At least five minutes have already passed when you heard a sound close by.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are…” You could hear his rapid breathing and his joking tone as you hid. “You can’t hide from me, little bunny, I can smell you.” You tried to be quiet, covering your mouth to stop the whimper that wanted to come out, his harsh voice making your pussy tingle.

You thought your hiding spot was perfect, but you didn’t think about your rapid heartbeat, so fast and so loud in your ears that you were worried he was going to find you soon. You didn’t think about your smell, and how good werewolf noses really were. You saw him pass a few meters away, thanking whoever it was up there that he didn’t see you. He kept walking and you lost sight of him, breathing a sign of relief.

Feeling in danger of being caught, you ran again. Bad choice, you realized instantly. You could hear him running behind you. The fire in your veins and the heat in your pussy was making your body push itself beyond anything you thought possible. He was fast, but you were a bunny on a mission. You wanted that damn burrow. But you wanted to get caught so badly, you wanted him to ravish you completely. But you kept running. You wouldn’t lose against a dumb predator, you might be the prey, but you were faster. Or so you thought.

At some point, you stopped to listen, your big ears twitching. You couldn’t hear him anywhere, the forest completely quiet. You should have guessed that was a bad sign. “Here you are!” An arm darted towards your body, you tried to escape but failed. He grabbed you by your fluffy tail and pulled you to him, making you scream. You could feel the heat pooling down on your abdomen. “I caught you. Now I get to eat you, bunny.” His voice was predatory, and you had no doubt you were going to enjoy whatever eating he did of you.

He didn’t give you time to react before you were on your back and his head was buried between your legs. He made out with your pussy messily, all drool and eagerness, pulling on your tail every once in a while. He was so good at that, he ate pussy like a champ and you could only moan as he did so, your mind going blank with pleasure.

You came twice before he growled and launched at you. He manhandled you into your stomach, his big body covered your back, pulling at your hips as he pushed your torso down. You were face down, ass up, when he pounded into you, fast and hard. You were the bunny in the relationship, but he was the one fucking you like a piston, so fast and so hard you couldn’t even scream, your throat raw, your mouth open in a silent scream, drool falling off as you panted.

“Are you going to be a good maid bunny for me?” He asked, you could feel the smirk on his voice. “I bet you will. And you’ll like it. You like to be my little servant, don’t you? You like when I order you around and make you do whatever I want. I bet I could make you suck my cock every evening when I get home. I think I’ll do that. I’ll have you kneeling on the floor and you’ll suck my big fat cock as soon as I get in.” Your pussy twitched around his hardness at that. “I felt that. You like the idea, don’t you? You like the idea of me having total control of you…” You whimpered, his words affecting you more than you thought.

He kept telling you every little detail of all the things he was going to make you do when you were his bunny maid. His words so filthy against your ear, his dick so hard as he pushed into you over and over that you lost your mind completely. He was hitting all your erogenous zones at once and you couldn’t hold back the noises you were making. When his knot started to stretch you out, you screamed. He chuckled and pushed deeper. Grinding his knot against your G-spot. You didn’t see stars, you saw whole galaxies as he made you come over and over. When he finished, he came so deep you could feel it in your sternum.

When he pulled out you felt his cum leaking out, your pussy slick with the mixed juices. “Look at that. Your pussy looks so good all messy with my cum.” You groaned, his words making some aftershocks ran through your body. “Looks like the big bad wolf caught the little rabbit at the end.” He chuckled at his own joke and you moaned, too tired to say anything. “Come on, bunny, let’s go home.” He picked you up and cradled you against his furry chest.

He made good on his promise and you had to suck his cock every day as soon as he got home. He also built you a good burrow so he could fuck you properly during your heat, claiming it was more for him than for you, but you knew better. Your boyfriend liked to chase you down like he was going to eat you, but he was very much in love with you. As you were with him.

[dollyhao]

cw; nsfw

bimbo!reader who clings to her big sexy gf, using her as your second brain because she makes you so comfortable that you feel like you don’t even need to think when your with her.

abby opens doors for you wherever you go out, she carries your bag when your shopping, she pays for your stuff and treats you like an absolute princess.

but you absolutely do not take advantage of abby’s love for you (like some people like to think/say). when you go shopping you make sure you grab her somethings. granted it is her money, but you thought about her when you picked it out, thinking about how amazing abby would look with it. you also carry at least one out of your ten of your bags, because it might be too heavy for her :(.

but obvi, you do more. your basically a housewife. making abby breakfast, lunch and dinner, keeping your house clean, and wearing the cutest outfits for her to come home to.

and let’s not even get started on when abby comes home from a stressful day of work, so pent up and all she wants is her princess :(. you have to stay ready you know.

so when abby got you bent over your the back of the couch, hands gripping you ass tightly eating your pussy in the messiest way possible. all spit and cum dripping down your thighs on to the floor. your knees pulled together from them shaking at the way abby spits on you pussy and rubbing it all over your cunt, making a mess of you, you take it like a champ.

you slump on the couch, moans muffled by the couch cushions. this doesn’t seem to work for abby when she pulls your hair making you sit up so she can hear every sweet sound that comes out your mouth. “your so good to me baby.” she voices as she feels you clench. around her fingers.

and afterwards you make her plate, face hot from earlier activities. she lets you sit in her lap as she eats while you two talk about your days. because no matter how many times abby’s friends tell her ‘she’s being used’, abby knows how much you love her and doesn’t care what anyone else has to say.

[tarjapearce]

Old Friend

Summary: You meet an old friend in your shopping trip with the family.

Nothing but a slice of life, fluff, bit of angst and a jealous Miguel ~

Whenever it was restock day, Costco or Walmart would be the main places to go.

You'd get the list, Miguel would secure Rosie to his chest, as Benjamin would get inside your cart. Gabi would walk alongside you or her beloved Papa, pushing his cart.

Each would take separate ways, you'd get the meats and veggies, as Miguel would get the rest, powder detergent, cleansing products, and snacks.

"Mama, can I have these?" Benjamin swayed his feet pointing at the  colorful packaging of dinosaur shaped nuggets.

"Course you can, mi niño. Which one you want?"

"I tried the red one last time, I'll get the purple"

Benji's boyish voice echoed around you as you stopped on the frozen meals section.

"Alright, purple it is."

You picked the purple package, a triceratops and a T-Rex on the cover. Then, filled the cart with different sort of meats, Miguel's favorite cuts, hams and of course, lots of canned jalapeños. Orange, pineapple, and cranberry juice, a couple of sodas and finally you got to go to the cereal and coffee aisle.

Miguel was running out of coffee in his office, and back at home you only had a couple of packages. It reminded you the time Miguel nearly had an anxiety attack when he found out he had ran out of the black liquid gold, even in his secret stash.

For some reason the brand he always bought was put on the top shelves. With a huff you looked around to see if there was any ladder, but upon finding none, You stepped on the bottom shelf, trying to get the six pack in the edge, but obviously, you couldn't reach it.

Benjamin giggled when you missed, as revenge you smothered his face in kisses, earning you a loud and bubbling squeal.

"Here, let me." A deep voice rumbled behind you. Your eyes widened at the all too familiar face before you. Reaching effortlessly for the coffee packaging.

"Richard" you mumbled while taking the package, to then put it on the cart.

"Hey" His hand waved softly. Clad in a hoodie, bermudas and sneakers. A little gold band hugging his ring finger. Dull, as his overall aura.

Despite the years coming through, he hadn't lost his kind green eyes. Some wrinkles adorned his matured face. Ricky was only two years older than you, and still had some white hairs poking out here and there.

He sported a short and well trimmed beard, hair parted and neatly arranged to a side. His eyes darted to the boy that undoubtedly resembled alot like you, except for his curious big and round red-ish eyes.

"Whose this little champ?" The smile on his face was coy, but genuine.

"It's my boy, Benjamin."

A proud beam stretched on your face as your hand caressed Benjamin's head, some of his curls trapping your fingers.

"Nice to meet you, champ." Ricky stretched his hands towards him and Benjamin shook it, a tad nervous.

"He definitely has your curls."

You smiled, eyes diverting behind him, ready to meet his partner but, there was none, just his half cart full of car appliances, some diary products and snacks.

"My goodness, you have a beard now."

Ricky chuckled and scratched it. He was a handsome man, undoubtedly. Good and well worked physique. Lean muscles, athletic and healthy looking. Green eyes a shade darker than green apples, pretty lips you liked biting and a healthy tan on his skin, despite him being a pale guy. A couple of freckles adorned his nose.

"And you've got a kid now." there was a bit of disbelief in his tone.

"Three actually. Funny how we ended up doing the things we always said we wouldn't do right away."

Richard gave a soft laugh.

"At least we look good. And I'm sure you're a great mom. How long has it been?"

"I don't know, I suck at math. But I do know it's more than ten years." You pushed the cart to get the cereals and naturally he helped you to get them. Eyes looking for Miguel in every chance you had.

"How have you been?" He tensed a bit at the question, not expecting your openness to talking so casually, specially when your finger shone with a golden band. He graduated college and never saw you again, until now. Gentle and caring as always. You hadn't changed, and he was glad.

"As usual. Existing, trying to keep myself afloat after, uh... my divorce." His mouth pressed in a tight line, green eyes looked away for a second, unable to meet your stare. Ashamed.

Your eyes blinked at his reply. Clearly surprised by such thing. Face falling with worry. "I'm sorry to hear that."

Richard shook his head, and gave a nonchalant shrug.

"Things happen. It's one of those situations that get your eyes open for good." Ricky rubbed his neck awkwardly and you offered a little reassure with a hand on his shoulder, patting it softly.

"Hey, you've got this. I know it's been a while, but I'm sure your problem solving skills are still top notch."

Hw chuckled, almost sympathetic at himself, "I don't even know anymore, if I'm honest. But if you say so."

The voices in the aisles kept indistinct, each in their own world, mingling with the upbeat background music.

"Also... I'm sorry." His eyes remained on yours. Something he'd always do when speaking truthfully.

Your brow quirked, "Whatever for?"

Ricky's hands squeezed the insides of his pockets as he spoke.

"For breaking up with you. Specially like that. It was a d-" He caught his tongue before continuing with the french before Benjamin, "It was wrong of me."

You could only stare at him, and he recoiled further in his spot, shoulders hunched, eyes on the floor.

"If something's worth saying, I... divorced cause my mom also ruined it for me."

You frowned, confused and he shook his head.

"So I cut ties, went to therapy and yeah." He reached out for a three pack of granola for himself, and another for you after you pointed at the brand.

"I'm sorry, I'm kind of confused as to why would you think I'd be happy to know something awful happened to you, Richard?"

Richard's brow puckered. You really hadn't changed at all. Even after he dumped you a few days before Christmas eve.

"I... don't know? Thought you'd hold a grudge for what I did."

"A grudge?" You tittered and this threw him off guard, "Not to sound mean or anything, but I didn't even remember what had happened until now. You know I'm forgetful."

You both chuckled as he nodded.

"Yeah, kinda wondered if you'd lose your head too if it wasn't attached to your body."

You gasped while mocking offense, "That was rude."

You grabbed a couple of cereal boxes Benjamin pointed at.

"But true. In all seriousness, I'm glad that at least something great came after me. Is he a good man?, wait..." He shook his head softly, "Stupid question Of course he is, you married him."

You beamed and this made his chest swell in a mix of happiness and pride. You deserved it after all he also put you through.

"You'll find someone, I know so." It always made him wondered why he was stupid like that to allow his mother come in between.

"I'll give myself a couple of years to heal first. Wanna make sure I don't repeat things over."

It was your turn to get that pride sensation in your chest. Knowing he was making a good progress out of his mother's shadow also made you happy. You out of everyone knew how hard it was like.

"Hope they're ready to listen country music nonstop in your car." He rolled his eyes.

"I know you hated the genre, that's why I always played them"

Your lips pursed with faked anger as he tittered, however, Ricky cleared his throat off the laughing upon watching a behemoth of a man, approaching from behind. Red eyes set on him. A shudder crawled on his skin as he gulped. The baby on his chest did little to appease the intimidating aura around him.

"Mama!" Gabi came to you with an excited face as she showed you her new acquisition. A purple and glittery cover for her phone.

"Qué lindo! Do they have it in blue too?" (How cute!)

"Nah, it was the last one, Papa said this would match with my room too."

Said Papa hugged you from behind, and kissed your temple, red eyes never left him. Ricky gave Miguel a polite smile as he backed away a few steps. Miguel's strong features only turned sharper. It would be a lie to say if Ricky wasn't surprised and intimidated.

Surprised cause you hugged Miguel's narrow waist, a pleased and proud purr emanated from his chest. Loud enough for only you to hear it.

The man before him screamed danger a mile ago. But also, explained lots of things. Like Benjamin's eyes.

"Richard, this is my husband. Miguel O'Hara."

Ricky hesitated for a second, but stretched his hands towards him, big tan hands easily enveloped his in a firm shake.

"Nice to meet you." His nervous smile was like fuel to your husband's ego.

Miguel acknowledged him with a brief nod, eyes not tearing away from him. A quiet She's mine in his eyes.

"Richard and I used to go at the same college. Oh! This is my eldest daughter, Gabriella. And my youngest baby, Rosie."

Gabi smiled politely while holding onto Miguel's hips.

"You have a beautiful family." His green eyes stared at an ever curious Rosie that gazed back at him. Miguel's shoulder's tensed when Rosie gave Ricky a smile.

"Thanks, You'll be fine though. Things take time, but, It all comes together somehow. Just be patient. I'm glad you're doing good on your own." Again, you patted his shoulder, he just gave you a small but genuine smile. Miguel's guts churned as his jaw clenched.

Ricky left after saying his goodbyes, not wanting to impose his presence any further.

"Gabibi, mi amor, can you get the food cart to the line, please?"

"Okay. Don't take too long, please?"

Gabriella took the cart as Benjamin showed her his nuggets, leaving you and Miguel with Rosie alone.

"Alright, interrogation can start now." You chuckled and Miguel pulled you by your waist towards him, ebbing you to walk a few steps before giving a firm slap on your rear.

"Miguel!" you hushed, flustered while looking around to see of there were people and he smirked.

"Wanted to do that before that guy, but that wouldn't be too polite of me, wouldn't it?"

You kissed his cheek, but he quickly corrected the place and pecked your lips.

"That's better. Who was he anyway?"

"My ex from college."

He just hummed and it was your turn to return the squeeze, he chuckled, "Relax. He just got divorced and obviously not having a good time."

"Too bad." He shrugged, a bit nonchalant and you deadpanned.

"Don't be mean. You were scaring him on purpose."

"Obvio. Still, forgot to thank him." (Obviously)

You chuckled as you approached to the line, Gabi waved at you both.

"Thank him?"

"Well, he let you go, and I wouldn't have met you in the first place. So thanks to that."

"Well, he's there on the other line, go tell him."

You teased, but to your surprise Miguel stepped away from the beeline and was walking towards Richard.

"W-Wait! Miguel!" You had skip a few steps to catch him and pull him back to spot, he smirked while pulling you tighter towards him.

"Don't tempt me, mi reina."

"God, I swear. You're-"

"Your husband, mi amor." He smirked, satisfied at his own title in your life.

"A jealous one."

He leaned to your ear and whispered, "Espérate que lleguemos a casa. No te la vas a acabar conmigo, mi reina." (Wait till we get home. You'll see what's up.)

Gabriella rolled her eyes at the flirty atmosphere around you and covered Benjamin's eyes.

"You're too young to see that."

[artssslut2]

Champ

Summary: Arts wife goes into labor during one of his most important matches and Patrick is caught in the middle.

Art Donaldson x Reader

Okay it’s a little long but I like the way it turned out! Please send requests in!

It was July, it was hot and you were heavily pregnant. The combo did not go well, you were so uncomfortable and anyone around you longer than ten minutes knew it especially Art. Art felt terrible he didn’t know how to help, you were so irritated most of the times he felt like it was his fault. But if he acted like it was his fault you would cry and think your a bad wife so he just kept to himself and did the best he could, doing whatever he could for you.

You and Art had been back at home for a few months and were able to get the nursery all set up and were ready to welcome your baby girl. However Art had one last match before you planned to give birth. The U.S open. Luckily it was right by your house this year so you didn’t have to travel. You were doing your best to support his prep but you were kind of pre occupied.

It was the day before the match, Art was off because he always took the day off before a match to rest and reset,

“Can I get you anything babe?” Art asked you standing up from the outdoor lounge bed. It was a painfully hot day and your air conditioning had broke in your house so you and Art were outside relaxing

“No Art sit down. I should be getting you stuff you have the most important-“ Art cut you off while you tried sitting up

“Hey hey stop, it’s okay just relax, you have something big coming up too so let me take care of you” he said making you lay back down

“Art I’m such a bad wife” you started to cry, you felt pathetic, Art knew the drill

“Baby stop your the greatest wife you know that” Art knew what would make you feel better even if it would make him feel worse “can you… get me some water?” He offered more for you than him. You stopped crying and started to stand up and grab his some water,

“It is so fucking hot!” You yelled aggressively handing your husband your water, “I just need this baby to get the fuck out! My back hurts my feet hurt I’m huge and it’s so fucking hot!” You continued on your hormonal rampage Art stood up letting you finish which he learned was best. He walked up to you and wrapped His arms around you, you slowly gave in Art waited a minute before saying soemthing

“You know it’s so amazing what your doing for our little girl, I’m sorry it’s so hot out. But it two weeks we will get to see Lily, and hold her and I will never let her forget all that you did to bring her into the world.” He softly told you. You loved him so much he always knew what to do

“ I love you Art. thank you I’m sorry I’m such a wreck.” You said into his chest

“You’re allowed to be my love… want me to give you a back massage?” He offered, you just looked up at him smiling already going inside.

“I’ll text Patrick and tell him to bring over all of his fans.” Art said picking up his phone

The rest of the night you spent relaxing as did Art, doing some minor prep things for his huge match tomorrow. You knew he was nervous this is the first open of his career. Patrick had brought over four fans which helped but not much.

Throughout the night you couldn’t sleep which wasn’t unusual for you lately but this was different you were having some pain in your stomach and back. You have had Braxton hicks before but these felt different, you were pretty sure they were real contractions. This couldn’t be happening not now before your husbands big match. You tried to stay calm mabye it would pass and you were just over reacting. You decided not to say anything to Art, he needed to focus. If he knew that anything was wrong he would not play as well. Besides the contraction we’re very far apart and not frequent enough to worry anyways.

You picked out Arts outfit like you always did. Art was leaving before you to warm up and get ready.

“Patrick is gonna pick up in a half an hour, I don’t want you to have to drive right now” he told you, you rolled your eyes playfully at his over protectiveness. You may have protested but you didn’t think it was a good idea to drive either.

“Go get ‘em champ” you whispered before kissing him with your arms around his shoulders, he gave you a nervous smile then leaned down to your bump

“Hey Lily girl wish your daddy luck today, okay?“ he kissed your belly making you smile, she definitely was wishing him luck. Art kissed you once more before leaving. You finished getting ready, you had only felt one contraction since he left about fifteens ago. They were starting to get more intense, you wished Art was here to support you.

Patrick came though the front door as you were leaned over clutching the counter top in the middle of a contraction.

“Fuck y/n are you okay what’s going on!?” He rushed over to you putting his hand on your back, the contraction ended after about 40 seconds

“Yeah I’m fine. I’m just… I’m fine” you stuttered. Patrick looked at you knowing you were lying. He looked terrified “I think I’m in labor” you continued. Patrick’s mouth opened wider

“Well should I call Art?!” He panicked already grabbing his phone

“No! Don’t call him!” Patrick looked at you very confused “he can’t know this is the most important match of his Career he can’t miss it or be distracted. He can’t” you had tears in your eyes because of how terrible you felt that this was happening today.

“Y/n you gotta call him it will be fine” Patrick tried convincing you

“No Patrick! It’s fine the contractions are far apart and spontaneous, it might not even be real, and if it is we’ve got a lot of time so we are going to the fucking match and we are going to support my husband and not take this away from him! So get in the damn car right now so we aren’t late!” You ordered, Patrick hesitated then decided to listen to you. You took a deep breath and headed out to the car as well.

The drive to the stadium you had one more contraction only lasting 30 seconds this made you feel better because you knew they should be one minute before thinking about going to the hospital.

You and Patrick sat in the stands, Patrick keeping a very close eye on you. He was scared shitless and it was obvious. The coin toss just happened art was serving first he saw you in the stands and gave you a smile and a quick wave. You did your best to not look freaked out.

The match was going well art won the first set and they were on to the second it had taken about an hour and you had three more contractions but they weren’t too intense. The two player just started the second set when you felt another one hit you like a train this time in your back too, you gasped grabbing Patrick’s forearm tightly. You looked at you,

“Y/n, Y/n is that another one? Y/n”

“Just shut up” you said through gritted teeth squeezing his arm so tight.

“Pat you gotta do me a favor and time them okay? How far apart they are and how long they last, please” you asked him letting go of his arm.

“Of course. But we really gotta go I think we should at least tell someone on Arts team or-“

“No! It’s almost done he needs to win this I’m fine, my water didn’t even break yet” you interrupted him trying to believe your own words, but as the day progresses you started to panic more. You knew it was the real thing now.

It had only been about an hour but it felt like a lifetime. Art lost the second set so now they had to play a third. Contractions had really started to pick up and you didn’t know how much longer you could last.

“Y/n that’s eight minutes apart. Stop this you have to go.” Patrick told you trying to be firm

“Don’t you want him to win!?” You said in a whisper yell,

“I don’t want you to have his kid in the stands!” He whisper yelled back. A few people around you probably cougt on but you didn’t care.

“It’s almost over. Your supposed to go to the hospital at five minute and eight minutes is not five minutes Patrick” you said clearly not budging on your plan. Patrick put his head in his hands, he was a mess, sweating pale you’d think he was the one in labor.

It had been another hour and the match wasn’t over. Luckily things hadn’t progressed to much probably because you were just sitting this whole time. Contractions were six minutes apart. You were in so much pain you couldn’t believe it. You were trying to hide it from everyone but it was becoming harder. Patrick was bouncing his leg nervously and it was driving you insane.

“Patrick stop.” You said glaring at him

“I’m nervous okay. This is crazy”

“I know it is. But can you just stop being so annoying because I’m nervous too. I’m about to give birth on live television at my husbands tennis match.” You told him, he looked at you realizing he should stop being a baby

“You’re right y/n I’m sorry. It shouldn’t be too much longer now. Can I get you anything a water?” He offered putting his hand on your knee.

“Yes please thank you” you patted his hand but before he could stand up the crowd went wild. To be honest you or Patrick weren’t paying attention to the match at all. You looked down at the court. Art had won. You totally forgot about how much pain you were in for a second seeing the confetti fall down to the courts

“Oh my god Patrick!” You smiled Pulling Patrick in for a hug

“He won he fucking won! He’s won the US open!” Patrick cheered, everything felt unreal until another contraction came crashing through ruining the moment

“Fuck Patrick get Art we gotta go now” you said clutching him to help keep you standing, he held you up until it was over

“Okay I’m going just hold on” he said helping you sit down, Patrick ran down the stairs leaning over the edge to motion art towards him art had just finished shaking his opponents hand than ran over to him while simultaneously looking for you in the crowd. You couldn’t hear what Patrick said you just saw arts face go into shock as he was frozen then Patrick hit his arm and art leaped over the bar into the stands. People were still cheering like crazy. Art found you in the stands and bolted towards you kneeling in front of where you were sitting

“Hey baby what’s going on?” Art said out of breath and panicked

“I’m definitely having this baby now” you said feeling another contraction come on Patrick was right behind Art. Now the three of you had caught some attention. Art looked shocked and confused

“Oh my good um okay I’ll- i um- I don’t hav e my car here fuck” Art stuttered looking like a mess still sweaty from his match and in shock that he’s about to have a baby

“We can take mine come on!” Patrick said both boys helped you up out of the seat. The crowd was still cheering and arts coach’s and team were looking for him, he would explain later. He didn’t care about giving a speech or doing interviews or any of that all he cared about was you.

You all piled into the car after making your way through all the people, people were shouting at Art cheering for him asking for autographs but be totally blocked it all out. Art sat in the back you were in the front,

“How long have your been in labor?” He asked leaning over the seat from the middle

“Since this morning, we’ll kind of last night” you admitted feeling guilty all of the sudden

“What!? Why didn’t you tell me y/n!?”

“I couldnt! You had to play, you couldn’t miss this match Art!”

“Well I can’t miss the birth of our child either!”

“Well you didn’t! And I knew if you knew I was having contractions you wouldn’t play as well, and I haven’t had her yet and you won so we are all winners!”

“Guys! Mabye you should focus on the big picture?” Patrick shouted interrupting you and arts disagreement

“Your right I’m sorry baby, I’m just surprised. Are you okay how do you feel?” Art asked shifting to a calming compassionate tone that instantly made you feel more comfortable.

“I’ve been better. I’m just happy you’re here now. I was starting to freak out I thought the match would never end” you reached grabbing his hand looking back at him he looked at you and smiled

“We’re having a baby y/n” he laughed kissing you. Just then you felt something pop, your legs became wet. Fuck.

“Shit I think my water just broke” you cursed looking at Art terrified, you saw Patrick grimace probably worried about his car seat

“Uh um. It’s okay baby we’re almost there just take deep breaths” Art said stroking your arm. Art was terrified but he knew you were too. He didn’t have time to freak out and he needed to be there for you in case you freaked out.

“Fuck I’m scared Art.” You whimpered you hadn’t even realized how scared you were because you were so focused on trying to get through the match.

“I know. Me too. But your already doing so great. I can’t believe you were doing this all alone”

“I mean I was there too” Patrick chimed in but you both ignored him

“Your gonna be such a good mom y/n I’m so proud of you my love” you spoke softly cupping your face. Another contraction ripped through you the worst one you’ve had yet you let out a gutteral moan grabbing Arts hand, you could hardly breath. You couldn’t talk through it, it was much more intense now.

“Patrick how far away are we?” Art asked trying to stay calm

“ like ten minutes but we’re stuck in traffic so I don’t know” he said also trying to stay calm

“I don’t want to have a baby in Patrick’s car” you cried as you felt the contraction coming to an end

“You’re not baby it’s okay we will be there soon” Art reassured but was terrified you might actually have a baby in his best friends car.

You had been sitting traffic for ten minutes and your contractions were now four minutes apart. You were arched off the seat grabbing your stomach trying to get through the contraction, Art looked like he was about to cry from seeing you in so much pain. Patrick looked angry that there was so much traffic.

“Your doing so good y/n/n, just keep breathing okay?” He said stroking your hair.

“Art what do we do?” You asked scared that the traffic wouldn’t let up

“We um we-“

“Finally!” Patrick yelled seeing the traffic break. Everyone sighed with relief.

You had finally made it to the hospital and were settled in a room laying down with Art kneeling by your head stroking your hair. Art sent Patrick back to let his team know why he left and make sure everything was okay. Your labor seemed to be at a stand still, no progress had been made since you arrived.

“Hey I never told you how proud I was of you champ.” You said facing your husband smiling putting a hand on his face

“Well you were kind of busy” he laughed kissing your nose

“Sorry we couldn’t celebrate”

“This is a pretty good way to celebrate are you kidding?” He chuckled

“We’re gonna be parents. Like tonight” you whispered sweetly to him he had tears in his eyes

“Thank you for going through this all baby I owe you everything” he kissed you.

It had been another hour. Very little progress had been made you were so frustrated and just wanted to get your baby girl out and hold her. They suggested walking around to help move the process along which was the last thing you wanted to do. But here you were walking around with Art right by your side. Another contraction came on and you helped in pain, your arms were around arts shoulders as you leaned down in pain. He held you up and swayed you back and fourth.

“I can’t do this anymore” you cried grabbing your husband for dear life.

“What can I do for you y/n how can I help you babe” he asked wholeheartedly

“Can you help me walk, I gotta hurry this up” you said breathlessly. Art came behind you and wrapped his arms under your armpits and walked with you, pretty much for you. You couldn’t ask for a better father of your child. He was the most supportive guy you’d ever seen. He would do this for hours for you.

Now you were settled back in bed exhausted. It felt like an eternity had gone by but then the nurse came in to check you.

“Alright your ready to push I’ll call the doctor in” she smiled. You were shocked and scared. You looked at Art

“What? I don’t I can’t I’m not ready I can’t-“yes you can y/n. I know you can. Your the strongest person I know you’ve made it this far I’ll be here the whole time.” He instructed you. You looked up at him with tears nodding.

It had been half an hour and you were still pushing not making much progress. Everyone could tell you were exhausted.

“Y/n cmon you have to push harder we gotta get this baby out” the doctor said

“I can’t … I can’t do it anymore” you cried feeling lifeless. Art didn’t say anything he just climbed in bed behind you and straddled you holding you up with his body.

“Now y/n push” the doctor told you again

“Baby look at me just look at me. You can do it only a few more than you’ll be able to hold Lily. Okay? You got this champ” he told you tears in his eyes too. You let your head fall back on his shoulder as you screamed in pain pushing as hard as you could. Art was holding you legs back with his arms around you.

“Good good, just one more y/n” the doctor told you

“Your doing so good darling just one more” art was in tears you couldn’t see but you knew. You have one more push before hearing a very loud cry

“Oh my god” you cried as they Laid your daughter on your chest

“Congratulations you have a little girl. “ the doctor smiled. Art was speechless and balling, he couldn’t believe his baby was here he was holding the love of his life who was holding the other love of his life that you two created together, it was a perfect moment.

“We gotta have more Art she’s so cute” you said crying harder every second, everyone in the room laughed,

“I can’t believe it y/n. Thank you so much thank you so so much” he said crying into your hair. He reached his arm around to the baby who grabbed his finger with her tiny hand. You both cried with joy

“Oh my god look at her fingernails” Art said still in disbelief “there so tiny”

“Art we have a daughter” you said to him as he kissed your cheek multiple times

“Does she have a name?” The doctor asked

“Lily” you both said at the same time smiling. You and Art decided on her middle name a few weeks ago

“Hi Lily Jane” you whispered kissing her head. You were so content with your family. All the pain and tears were 100% worth it.

Later on that night Lily was cleaned and wrapped up in a cute little blanket with a hat on in her dads arms next to the hospital bed asleep. Art was smiling down at her still teary eyed. After examining all your babies features you decided she was a clone of her father. She had your lips but his everything else. Even a little speck of brown in her blue eyes that made your heart swell. You had never been more tired but you also had never been happier.

“She’s so beautiful” Art whispered trying not to wake her up “I could look at her for hours.” He smiled

“She looks just like you baby” you told him, he looked at you then her and smiled

“ I don’t know I see you a lot in her too” he told you. Just then you heard a knock at the door and saw Patrick’s head poke through, he was carrying the trophy Art had won

“Hey I thought I’d bring this by” he said quietly “is now a good time?” He asked softly, you nodded and he came into the room

“Wow.” He said carefully walking over to Art staring at the baby in his arms “She’s uh wow she’s-“

“I know.” You finished knowing his was mezmorized by his niece.

“I’m so proud of you guys” he said speaking from the heart

“You wanna hold her?” Art looked up at his best friend

“Oh I don’t know she looks pretty comfortable”

“Oh come on she’s gotta meet her uncle.” Art said standing up and handing him the tiny baby. Patrick took a deep breath staring at her

“Jesus Art she’s your twin” he laughed “Let’s hope she doesn’t get your ears” he teased

“Yeah Pat your one to talk” he he teased back.

Patrick didn’t stay long it was getting pretty late. You and Art decided to announce it on his social media to fill everyone in on why he rushed out of there after winning. He posted a picture you took of him holding Lily in one arm and his trophy from that day in the other. He captioned the picture with

@ArtDondson:

I didn’t think my day could get any better… but it did. Welcome to the world sweet Lily Jane, she’s already our little champ🤍

Of course the post blew up and many people commented and reporters contacted him but he ignored it. At least for now. He had never been so happy with his life than in this moment. This day would go down in history for the Donaldson family.

[astonmartinii]

head in the clouds | lando norris social media au

pairing: lando norris x fem flight attendant!reader

there's no one more attractive than the stranger at the same gate as you at the airport and sometimes that stranger works on your best friend's private jet.

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 3,105 others

yourusername: violently hungover, don't tell my boss x

view all comments

user1: i need to be her

maxverstappen1: your boss follows you on instagram genius

yourusername: oh yeah lol but i'm still alive and i was still on time

maxverstappen1: you took a nap on the flight?

yourusername: it was about ten billion hours long so spare me the lecture

maxverstappen1: you're so lucky we're friends otherwise i'd fire your ass

yourusername: you love me too much to do that maxy (and i know way too much about you) x

user2: how did you get this job?

yourusername: nepotism babes x

danielricciardo: i think you masked it pretty well for the first three hours

yourusername: THANK YOU

danielricciardo: but i did hear you throw up around hour four

yourusername: nothing like a tactical chunder on your childhood friend's private jet

landonorris: i for one couldn't tell you were hungover

yourusername: well look who's my new favourite, you should fly with max more often

danielricciardo: he's only saying that cause he has a crush, I'M STILL YOUR FAVOURITE

yourusername: whatever helps you sleep at night x

landonorris

liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 1,034,566 others

tagged: danielricciardo

landonorris: reunited and it feels so good 😊

view all comments

user3: always obsessed with this pairing

user4: they're cute but i know they're so annoying to fly with

danielricciardo: i knew you missed me :)

landonorris: of course i did you big sap

danielricciardo: so you didn't replace me with a younger and sexier version of me?

landonorris: not technically no

oscarpiastri: i'm just gonna take the compliment, thanks dan :)

danielricciardo: massive compliment, i'm extremely sexy

user5: thank the lord daniel is back who was going to make lando blush all the time?

danielricciardo: believe me he doesn't need me to do that when he flies on air max that's all y/n

landonorris: DANIEL?

danielricciardo: she took these photos - look at the blush. LOOK AT THE MATERIAL

yourusername: i think i'm just a better photographer than you two combined so i just capture my subjects well

danielricciardo: nope. i think lando just has a BIG FAT CRUSH

maxverstappen1: LMAO

yourusername: who wouldn't? (i'm shaking)

user6: wtf is going on here?

user7: i think we're witnessing bullying

maxverstappen1

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 892,330 others

tagged: georgerussell63, alexalbon, landonorris & yourusername

maxverstappen1: getting some padel in on the weekend off

view all comments

user9: max really puts his hyperfixations above his beef because who thought we'd see him playing with george after baku

danielricciardo: how did lando get through a whole session with y/n there he can barely get through a sentence around her

landonorris: why are you so obsessed with exposing me in public

danielricciardo: funny.

yourusername: he did very well, he took a few balls to the face but he took them like a champ.

maxverstappen1: i'm sure he'd rather be the one putting balls in your face. get it? his balls? sex?

yourusername: i got it, you're not funny pal

maxverstappen1: well i think i'm hilarious so

user10: poor lando is going through the ringer rn

yourusername: whipped all of your asses call yourself professional athletes?

alexalbon: you were freakishly good what is your trick?

yourusername: only time i'm not playing padel is when i'm asleep or on a charter with max it's the only thing i can be better than him in

landonorris: you're definitely better looking than him and like 10 million times nicer than him

yourusername: you're not too bad yourself norris, you've just bagged yourself an extra bag of peanuts next flight x

alexalbon: romance is dead

f1wagsupdates

liked by user11, user12 and 4,109 others

tagged: yourusername

f1wagsupdates: this is y/n y/ln potential new girlfriend of lando norris. she is a close friend of max verstappen, to the point that after she finished university and was without a job, he financed her education to be a air hostess, the job she now has on max's private jet. as far as we know she's never been in a public relationship but she also lives in monaco, is a padel enthusiast and has exchanged flirty comments with lando. also, she's a real one because she refuses to charter if jos wants to fly on air max - she slays for that one

view all comments

user13: if she's a longtime, potential childhood friend of max, the jos thing probably makes sense

user14: gosh she's so pretty

user15: giving your bestie a job and a life where you get to have her travel with you everywhere is really what nepotism should be

user16: for real where's my friend who will pay for me to learn to be a air hostess so we can hang out all the time

user17: i think her and lando would be cute

user18: and they would also make sense, they'd have a schedule that completely lines up and y/n would understand the sport and the lifestyle

user19: she also knows all of his friends already and they seem to get on with her

user20: "never been in a public relationship" she's just like us

user21: except she's gonna pull lando freaking norris and we're all still lonely

yourusername

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 17,098 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: THE way to spend your saturday, perks of the job x

view all comments

user22: hey siri play that should be me by justin bieber

maxverstappen1: glad you could take a break from being a tourist to actually come watch me

yourusername: lies i'm always there you just don't know because i sit in hospitality so i can drink ;)

maxverstappen1: is that why my mum looked so happy to see me after sitting with you in hospitality?

yourusername: NO! sophie just loves me

user23: omg y/n and sophie just chill in hospitality? i love them

landonorris: i heard mclaren have great hospitality and actually has a cup of tea with your name written all over it

yourusername: hmmm we'll see if it beats the team who broke the cost cap on catering but i'm willing to take that risk

landonorris: i promise it's worth your time

danielricciardo: @maxverstappen1 look he's finally making a move 👀

maxverstappen1: ugh finally !!!

yourusername: yall mind? ACTUALLY i'm not coming back to red bull you're annoying

user24: has the bullying worked ?

mclarenf1

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri and 1,093,455 others

tagged: landonorris

mclarenf1: lando is back on the podium with a p2 finish with oscar just behind in p4 congrats papaya boys!!

view all comments

user25: LET'S GOOOOOO THE WIN IS COMING I CAN FEEL IT

oscarpiastri: congrats lando :)

landonorris: your podium will come oscar you're killing it right now

user26: omg faves i can't wait until the double podium

user27: y/n in the likes ..... 🤔 makes you think

yourusername: idk what you conspiracy theorists want to hear but you don't need to know everything that happens in the drivers' personal lives and i can like posts of my friends doing well

user28: so you're not together

yourusername: you people have the reading comprehension skills of a rock

maxverstappen1: congrats mate, try not to get too drunk tonight, air max is scheduled early in the morning 👍

landonorris: i'll be there no worries

danielricciardo: of course he will, his favourite will be there

landonorris: laugh all you will but i have a pack of peanuts promised to me

yourusername: i'll put salt in their drinks don't worry lando

maxverstappen1: i have done nothing wrong?

yourusername: i am in solidarity with lando

maxverstappen1: i'm ur best friend?

yourusername: he's cute :)

user29: you can't tell she doesn't like him back

danielricciardo

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 1,209,778 others

tagged: yourusername, landonorris

danielricciardo: podiums give you balls. balls get you girlfriends.

view all comments

user32: HOLYYYYYYYYYY SHIT

maxverstappen1: they are not awake yet lol they're going to kill you

danielricciardo: i'd like to see lando try. y/n i am afraid of though.

maxverstappen1: you should be, a girl once threw a drink over me in the club for walking into her and y/n went feral. i was afraid and impressed

yourusername: had to protect your virtue max

maxverstappen1: much appreciated, probably the only time i've been attracted to you

landonorris: AND THE LAST TIME

user33: considering their new relationship just got exposed, they're doing pretty well

yourusername: oh we're waiting until daniel is in an enclosed space where if he tries to escape we all die :)

landonorris: he's going to regret this before such a long flight, esp with a hungover y/n

danielricciardo: is it too late to say i love you guys?

yourusername: free enchante merch and i'll drop it

danielricciardo: done.

landonorris: Y/N???

yourusername: what were we really going to do? plus i've had a crush on you for so long people would definitely know by now if i wasn't dead in bed

landonorris: you had a crush? why was i the only one getting bullied?

maxverstappen1: please refer to my comment about the feral club night

landonorris

liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 1,237,903 others

tagged: yourusername

landonorris: on a scale of 1 - 10 how annoyed would you be if someone joined a particular club on your private jet?

view all comments

user35: THE MILE HIGHER CLUB?

maxverstappen1: you're banned from the bathroom now, get a UTI i don't care do NOT shag on my plane

landonorris: so is that a 10 definietly not?

maxverstappen1: i will make sure you will never be able to use it again if you have sex on my plane with my best friend

landonorris: understood 😅

yourusername: i don't know how you did it but you made your first post about me even less romantic than dan's and his mentioned balls TWICE

landonorris: but i love you so that's all that counts right?

yourusername: i love you too but i also clean that plane so no one will shag on it or i'll scrap them

landonorris: i get the message no mile higher 😭

yourusername: but at least you get extra peanuts and the best pillow for life

landonorris: you spoil me too much

oscarpiastri: happy for you mate, it was painful watching you mope around the garage

yourusername: awww you moped ???? that's so cute

landonorris: i moped because i really liked you and daniel made it his mission to embarrass me constantly in front of you

yourusername: babe i've cleaned dan's sick off the floor of the jet nothing he could say could make me not like you

landonorris: thank the lord cause if i didn't ask you out i think i may have combusted

yourusername

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 30,987 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername: the 4am call times and mad max tantrums have all been worth it to meet you <3

view all comments

user36: god i have seen what you have done for others

maxverstappen1: now you're together i can say this, 1) i love you guys and i'm glad you're happy. 2) lando saw you once at a karting competition and had a crush ever since this was not new

landonorris: THAT WAS BETWEEN ME AND YOU

maxverstappen1: and he confessed that seeing you in your uniform is what finally pushed him over the edge

landonorris: STOP WHAT ARE YOU DOING

maxverstappen1: bro don't worry you guys are together, you're set for life

landonorris: thanks for having faith i guess?

maxverstappen1: BRO SHE IS SUPER DUPER IN LOVE WITH YOU

yourusername: he's not wrong

landonorris: hehehehehehehehe

oscarpiastri: he's literally sat in hospitality giggling and kicking his legs btw

landonorris: proudly so, my gf LOVES me

user37: lando got a gf before a win and i respect that

landonorris: i love you, can't wait for the rest of my life with you

yourusername: i can't wait, i'll even play golf with you x

danielricciardo: mate at least wait until the six month mark before you propose

landonorris: no promises x

note: hope you enjoyed, had this thought and i just had to do it. i'm working on requests and mamma mia p4!!

[beachbxtchforev]

I’m Wearing UNC Blue for Him

after you support Rafe at his big game, he shows his appreciation for you on the way home.

pairing: basketballplayer!Rafe x fem!reader

word count: 1k

warnings: 18+, fingering, slow burn, some curse words, use of “baby”

1:37 left on the clock. the Heels lead the Huskies 78-72. Connecticut possession.

this was one of Rafe’s biggest games of the season. going against last year’s NCAA conference champs, UNC needs to pull off this win to secure a top bracket position. the roar of Chapel Hill was mind numbing, your ears were ringing from the chanting that surrounded you. today, you opted to sit with the Cameron’s instead of cheering from the student section because they often secured seats closer to the court. you wanted to be able to see Rafe up close, maybe even give him a glimpse of you showing your support for extra motivation.

the ball is thrown in from the sideline, making its way up the court towards UConn’s basket. their player goes for a layup and makes it. 78-74. 1:24. Kelce checks the ball to Rafe, with the two of them making their way back towards their hoop. UConn’s impressive defense forces the ball to be passed until Rafe can make his way into the paint. he once again gets the ball and is quickly fouled. just as you expected. you hate when the game is close in the end with both teams doing whatever it takes to prevent points.

you stand for Rafe’s free-throws, thumb nail up to your mouth out of habit, feeling the stress of 20,000 fans watching his every move. he bounces the ball, shoots, and sinks it. thank god, now just do it again. and he does. 80-74. 1:10.

the minute left of game play really takes ten, anxiety seeping into your every move. Rafe has the ball with four seconds left, taking a shot from the 3 point line. its in! the Heels win!

you fly out of your seat, hands reaching the air, quickly turning to Sarah at your side to embrace out of relief. Ward high fives you as Rose’s smile beams.

-

Rafe always takes a while to join the group after a game, especially one as big as tonight’s. when he comes out of the locker room you are so excited to see him that you run to jump into his arms. “you did it baby! im so proud of you,” you exclaim as you wrap your legs around his torso. he chuckles at your enthusiasm, pecking the side of your head.

once he lets you go, he shares moments with each of his family members and you walk hand in hand out of the facility.

a winning game day is always your favorite because it ensures a good mood from your boyfriend for the rest of the night.

“I can’t believe that last shot you made, you just had to rub the win in their face babe?” you jokingly question as he opens the passenger door to his truck for you.

“what can I say, im tryin to make some noise in prep for the tourney, baby. plus I really want to start getting NBA scouts’ attention.”

you watch as he rounds the front of the truck to get in.“well you got my attention, that’s for sure.” you smile at him, leaning over the center console to give him a peck on the mouth.

putting the car in drive, you guys head back towards his apartment. Drake plays through his speakers as you look out the window at your beautiful campus lit up by the moon. you’re pulled out of your trance by Rafe’s hand reaching out for your thigh, giving it a light squeeze. just like you predicted, he’s in a good mood from his win, so you might as well let him bask in it.

you’re wearing just a UNC vintage pullover that you stole from Rafe and some jean shorts, which you feel his hand working towards. biting your lip and sneaking a glance at him, you decide to unbutton the denim and slide it down your legs, revealing your lacey thong to the darkness of the truck. Rafe’s hand moves higher, grazing over the fabric of your shorts to meet the now bare skin of your hip, while his left hand controls the wheel. you let out a gasp when his fingers dip into the top of your panties, grazing your slit.

his actions are followed by a whimper from your mouth, already feeling yourself getting soaked. however, you have been turned on since you saw him in his Heel blue jersey on the court. his fingers apply pressure, finding your clit and moving in circles. your legs spread, giving him better access as he multitasks his way into giving you and orgasm. what can’t this man do?

“Rafey, inside me. please” you beg, wanting to feel his fingers.

“ya baby? want to get fucked by my fingers? huh?” he teases as he continues to maneuver the truck through the emptying streets.

“y-yes! yes, pl-“ your words are cut off my your own moan as Rafe’s middle and ring finger thrust into your entrance. he too groans at the feeling of your gummy walls around his fingers, blood rushing to his cock.

his fingers move in and out, working you open. he adjusts his hand so the heel of his palm can apply pressure to your clit while his fingers work your hole, warmth invading them. he adds a curling motion to his thrusts, finding the spot that almost always has you cumming.

“shit y/n. squeezing my fingers baby? you gonna cum?”

“please Rafe! im so close,” you moan out. band in your stomach ready to snap.

as soon as he turns the truck into the parking garage, fingers moving rapidly, you release, wetness coating his hand, your heavy breaths filling the cab. after a couple more pumps, he removes his fingers from you and slides them between his lips, collecting your juices. you turn your head to face him, hair slightly disheveled and sticking to your forehead.

“you taste so good baby,” he says, as he takes his fingers out of his mouth and tucks a misplaced piece of hair behind your ear.

leaning over to give you a needy kiss, he grasps your wrist, pulling your hand to feel his hardened cock.

“now how about we go upstairs and you give me a three celebratory rounds for that 3 pointer that impressed you so much?

-

let me know what you think ✨

[sanguineterrain]

redamancy | steve harrington

Summary: redamancy (n.) - the act of loving someone who loves you back; a love returned in full // or, four times you kissed Steve Harrington, and one time he finally kissed you back.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings/tags: friends to lovers, 5+1 fic format, no use of y/n, FLUFF, PINING PINING, injured s4 steve, hospital setting, general vecna angst (eddie's alive bc i will never kill eddie in my fics), bed sharing, happy ending, and kissing. if that wasn't clear. :)

A/N: fun fact: this is the first time i've written a 5+1 fic! technically it's 4+1 but whatevs. if you enjoy this fic, please give it a reblog and support your local steve harrington tumblrina.

divider by firefly-graphics

i. the promise 

"Would you ever get married?" 

You open your eyes. The setting sun nearly blinds you through the windshield. Immediately, you stick out a hand to block it. 

You're still reclined all the way back in the passenger seat, because Steve's fancy schmancy BMW can do that. He frequently lectures you about doing it while he's driving. Have I taught you nothing? Road safety! 

"I mean, I guess so," you say. "If someone ever wants to put a ring on me."

You sit up and pull down the sun visor. Steve turns. His hair lightens in the summer, shades of reddish blond peeking through. He insists his hair has never been anything but brown, fiercely pledging his allegiance to brunettes. You coo at his highlights all the same. 

"I want to," he says after a minute. "I wanna get married." 

You're parked down the block from your house. You should've gotten out ten minutes ago, but there's never any rush when you're with Steve.

"The line to wed you will be out the door, champ," you say around a grin. 

"Hm. I dunno." He stretches in his seat. "Maybe if I was the same guy I was a few years ago." 

You wrinkle your nose. "I doubt that."

"But what can I really offer?" he continues. "I'm just some guy who can't get into college."

"That doesn't mean no one will marry you. Some people who go to college are dumber than dirt. They get married. College has nothing to do with it. You can go, if you really want to. One rejection doesn't say anything about you, Steve." 

"I guess."

You pull the lever on the side. The seat shoots up with a brrrap! It clicks as you straighten. 

"Where did all this come from, anyway?" you ask. 

Steve shrugs. "Just thinking."

"Dangerous."

He smiles. "I like to live on the edge."

"Contemplating marriage like the world's biggest sap. Definitely edgy."

Steve hums. His hands are in his lap. He picks at a cuticle, a habit he’s recently developed. You wonder why he’s so anxious. 

"Two people from our graduating class got married last week."

Your eyes widen. "You're kidding."

"Nope. Lisa Schell and Gary Brewer." 

"Wait, didn't she cheat on him?"

"Yeah, but he slept with her sister, so I guess they called it even."

You shake your head. "That's insane. They're literally babies, Steve. That's like Dustin getting married."

Steve scowls. "He's not allowed to get married before me." 

"Not even to his possibly fictional Suzie?" 

"Not even to her."

You stare at the freckles on Steve's face and how his frizz kind of looks like a halo in the light. You imagine the feel of his hair in your hands, the warmth of his scalp.

"I'd marry you," you say. 

Steve's eyebrows shoot up. 

"What?"

"Like, if you were in a pinch."

He looks at you sideways. You flatten, then scrunch your hands over your knees. Your tongue feels too big for your mouth. 

"I'm talking about spending the rest of my life with someone, you know. Not borrowing fifty bucks."

"Fifty bucks is a lot of money for some of us, Harrington."

"That’s probably how much Lisa's wedding dress cost."

"I hope she kept the receipt."

Silence descends. A soft breeze blows through your cracked window. You want to search Steve's glove box for gum, but you've just told him you'd marry him, so you can't do anything except think about the fact that those words came out of your mouth. 

"Are you…" Steve begins, then pauses. "Why did you say that?"

"Because you're worried, for some incomprehensible reason, that no one will marry you."

"I scoop ice cream for a living."

You level him with a look. 

"Steve. We're kids. Cut yourself some slack."

His eyes turn hollow. They've been doing that lately. You wish you knew why. 

"I don't really feel like a kid these days," he says. 

Something about the way Steve sounds makes you want to climb over the console and curl into him, cradle his head to your neck. Which is crazy. You guys don't do that. Steve isn't yours to do that with. 

"Let's make a pact," you say softly. 

He meets your eye. "A pact?"

"Mmhm. Let's say if both of us aren't married by… thirty, then we'll get married."

"Well, I don't want a pity marriage." 

You roll your eyes. "It's not a pity marriage, Steve."

"Thirty is so late! You really think I won't be married by then?" he asks. 

"No, I don't think that. I already said folks will be lined up to marry you," you say. 

"I can't wait till I'm thirty." 

"Or you'll turn into an old maid?" 

"Meh meh meh," he mocks without any heat. 

You purse your lips so you don't smile. "Fine. We'll split the difference. Twenty-four?"

Steve considers that. Really considers it. It suddenly occurs to you what you're promising and who you're promising it to. You wonder if you'll both forget about it. Or brush it off. Oh, what did we know? We were kids!

Except Steve doesn't feel like a kid. And maybe you don't either, as much as you wish you do. 

"Do you mean it?" he asks. 

"Of course I do."

"No, seriously." He's serious. "I mean it, so if you don't…"

"Steve, I said I mean it. I do."

"You'll marry me?"

"I will."

"Swear on it."

You hold out your right pinkie out, waiting. Steve hooks his finger over yours. Impulsively, you kiss your linked pinkies. To show that you really, truly mean it.

You try to picture it. What walking down the aisle to meet Steve at the altar would feel like. You wonder if he'd keep his hair long, like it is now. You like it long. Would he keep it long for you?

"Will you buy me a ring?" you ask. "If we get married, I mean."

"Of course I'd buy you a ring," Steve says. "I'd get you anything you wanted."

"Okay." Your heart hammers in your chest. "I'm gonna go home."

"Alright. Want me to pull up to the door?"

"No, it's fine. Walking is good for digestion. Those milkshakes were no joke."

Steve smiles. He has such a lovely smile. His Cupid's bow is shaped exactly like a heart. 

"Same time tomorrow? It's movie night." 

Right. Your movie night. A semi-regular occasion that includes you, Steve, Robin, and the kids, sometimes. You've watched at least a dozen movies this summer together. Only this time, you're watching a movie after promising to marry Steve. 

"Sounds good," you say. "Will you pick me up?"

"Always."

Another promise. You hadn't realized how many Steve makes to you. 

"'Kay. See you."

You get out. Steve waves as he pulls away from the curb. 

Your ring finger feels bare. You rub it, hoping the feeling will go away. 

ii. the wound 

The plastic chair has turned your legs numb. Your butt is about to follow. 

Can butts go numb? You're not sure. You'll find out soon, though. 

You rub your eyes. God, you need sleep. 

Across the room, you catch Joyce Byers' gaze. She smiles at you, though it's brittle. You try to smile back, feeling distinctly like you might break if you stretch your mouth too far. 

She looks away, and your not-smile falls. 

"They'll let us in soon," she says, like she knows. She does know. Better than you, certainly. 

The hospital smells cold. It smells like a place people go to die. 

Your heartbeat ratchets. You shouldn't think like that. 

"You don't understand," comes Dustin's voice. He's at the receptionist's desk, flanked by Mike and Lucas. Dustin's face is red and blotchy, near tears. 

"I need to see him. You won't let me see Eddie, so—" 

The receptionist rears back, like she can't believe three children are daring to speak to her. 

"Neither patient is cleared for visitors," she says icily. "Now, for the last time: have a seat."

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Joyce begin to stand, ready to herd the kids away. You beat her to it. Out of everyone in this room, you're probably the only person who has the strength to stand. 

"Guys, c'mon. It won't be long." 

They don't look at you. You don't take it personally. An hour earlier, you'd cornered Dustin and forced him to tell you what happened. What's been happening. 

So he did. And now you're here. 

You don't blame them for glaring at the prickly receptionist. But you know that won't do anything. It won't heal Steve quicker. And it won't make anybody feel better. 

"Hey, Dustin." You lay a hand on his shoulder. He looks at you like you're not Steve. You wish it was you in surgery instead. 

"Come sit," you say. 

"I need to see him," he tells you. 

"I know." Your throat tightens, threatening to trap your words altogether. You rush to get the rest out. "I do too. But this isn't going to make that happen faster. Come sit with me. Okay?"

"He'll be fine," Mike says quietly. "They don't wanna get sued by his asshole dad."

You nod, because yeah, good point. Quite possibly the first time Richard Harrington has brought anybody comfort. He's in Cancun, last you'd heard. You hope he chokes on a margarita. 

Dustin follows you. Mike and Lucas sit next to Joyce. The five of you wait. 

At some point, you fall asleep. When you wake up, it's to the contentious receptionist peering over you all. 

"Mr. Harrington is awake," she says primly. "You may see him now, young man."

Dustin flies out of the chair, Lucas and Mike at his heels. 

A part of you wants to go home, and you feel terrible for it. You feel terrible that Steve almost died, but you're the frightened one. You don't know if you can bear to see him tied to tubes and a heart monitor.

"Go on."

Joyce tracks you sleepily. Her hair is more knotted than before you fell asleep. She nods to the hallway. 

"Go see him."

You can’t voice every thought, every fear. I don’t know if I can see him like this.

“It’s good he won’t wake up alone,” she says.

“He’s got a family.” You wave your hand weakly. 

Joyce watches you for a moment. Then she gets up.

"Yes, he does." 

She holds out her hand. 

You don’t know Joyce Byers very well. This is probably the longest conversation you’ve had with her. You realize, then, that you're wrong—you’re not the one who’s strong enough to stand.

“Let’s go see him,” she says. "All of his loved ones should be there." 

God, are you really that obvious? 

You take her hand, and the two of you go down the hall.

Steve is nearly unrecognizable in the hospital bed. The kids are speaking to him, unusually quiet. They look up when you enter. 

Steve’s eyes lock with yours. 

“Hey,” is all you say.

“Hi,” he says, voice rough with disuse and getting choked by what Dustin had described as demon bats. 

“Boys, come on,” Joyce calls. “Let’s make a cafeteria stop.”

You see Dustin about to protest, but Lucas tugs his arm like he knows, and goddamn, you really are that obvious, aren’t you? 

You wait for the door to close behind you. Then you walk to Steve’s side. 

The gnarled ring of flesh around his neck makes you queasy. The rest of him isn’t much better, red and purple smeared across any skin that’s not covered by the chalky hospital gown.

You sit in the chair. It’s the same plastic kind as the ones in the waiting room, but this one doesn’t feel so hard.

“Robin called me,” you say.

Steve closes his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, you’d better be.” Your voice cracks. “Can’t believe you went dimension-surfing without me.”

“You’re mad at me.”

Your breath is punched out of you. 

“No,” you say softly. “My God, Steve. I’m not mad at you.”

His hand creeps to the edge of the bed. His fingers are scraped.

You take his hand and lace your fingers together. He slow-blinks. He’ll probably fall asleep in the next half hour. 

“It’s okay if you are,” he whispers. “Mad, I mean. I’d be mad too.”

You know he wouldn’t be, though. You know Steve would forgive you in a heartbeat.

“I’m not mad,” you say, equally as quiet. “I just… I was scared." 

He nods. "I'm sorry for scaring you." 

You bow your head and close your eyes. When Robin had called, you'd run to the bathroom and coughed up stomach acid.

They say he’ll make it, she'd told you, and you'd realized with violent clarity that you love him. 

But Steve doesn't need that right now. So you bury it.

You lean in and bring Steve's knuckles to your lips, taking care not to jostle him.

His eyes widen. Part of you hopes he won’t remember this conversation.

"Don't do that again," you say. “Not without me.”

"Okay,” he whispers. “I won't." 

You wait until he falls asleep, hand in his. 

iii. the brand

“There’s no way I’m getting in your death van, Munson!” Robin whines.

“Death van is an exaggeration, Buckley. If anything, it’s a life van. I’m still here, aren’t I?” Eddie asks.

“Definitely not because of that heap of metal,” Steve murmurs to you. You snicker.

It’s nearly dark, but a summer dark, where it doesn’t actually turn to night until well after nine PM. The top two buttons of Steve’s dress shirt are undone, and you can’t stop staring. It’s embarrassing, really. You’d nearly missed Eddie’s walk across the stage because of that damned triangle of tanned skin and dark chest hair.

“Why can’t we take the station wagon?” Robin asks. 

“I think Nancy already left,” you say. “Sorry, Rob.” 

“And I’ve put my car jacking days behind me,” Eddie announces, flinging his arms out. “So my van it shall be!”

Robin whips her head around to glare at Steve. 

“This is your fault,” she accuses scathingly.

“Me?!”

“You just had to go and get a flat tire yesterday.”

“Yeah, Steve,” you add cheekily. “Why couldn’t you have foreseen the dreaded timeline where Eddie drives?”

“Et tu?” Eddie asks. “I’m hurt. I’m a great driver, y’know. Better than Steve, some have told me.”

“Dustin only told you that ‘cause you were high on morphine and about to burst into tears,” Robin says.

As they bicker, Steve draws closer, so your arms brush. You close the distance, crowding him.

“Y’okay?” he asks quietly.

“Yes,” you say, startled. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Just checking.”

“Are you okay?”

He turns to you. He looks like he’s searching for something. You don’t know what.

“Yeah,” Steve says after a minute. “I am. Better than, actually.”

“‘Cause I’m here, right?” you ask with a gooey grin.

“Yeah. ‘Cause you’re here.”

He sounds honest, so you turn away, because you can’t handle that and his chest hair. 

"I should get to choose where we go," Robin says as you arrive at Eddie's van. "Since it may be our last trip and all."

"Funny you were in Band and not president of the drama club, Buckley," Eddie says dryly. 

"Pot, kettle."

"How 'bout Rita's?" you suggest. "Unlimited refills and no one will hassle Eddie."

"Aw, you care about little ol' me?" Eddie asks. 

"If you get us there in one piece, yes."

Eddie huffs. "No wonder you and the Hair are like this." He crosses his fingers. 

"Damn right," Steve says. "We even finish each other's—"

"Terribly cliche sayings!" you say. 

Robin looks at you for a moment, unusually smirky. Then she looks at Steve. 

"You match. Blue dress, blue tie."

"That's so if she gets lost, they know who to return her to," Steve says. 

You scoff. "More like the other way around." 

He pouts. "Hey."

"Hay is for horses," you sing, skipping ahead to Eddie's van. 

"I'm sorry, are you excited to ride in the Hell Van?" Robin asks. 

You shrug. "We could use some excitement around here, couldn't we?"

"No!" all three say.

"I've had enough excitement for ten lifetimes," Robin mutters. 

Eddie pulls the door open. Your smile quickly drops. 

"Uh, Eddie? Where the fuck are the seats?"

"Right, so, usually I only have Gareth and Jeff ride with me. Gareth always calls shotgun—"

"Shotgun!" Robin hollers, and races to the front seat. 

You stare at the single backseat chair. There's no way it's big enough for you and Steve. 

"Holy shit," Steve says, taking stock of the "backseat."

Eddie rubs the back of his neck. "Yeah… listen, if I'd known we'd be taking her, I would've put the other seat in, swear! Usually we take it out for the equipment." 

"Well, what are we supposed to do? Lay down and pray? This is how people get head injuries, Eddie," you say, arms folded. 

"Maybe we can call a cab," Steve suggests. 

"At this hour?" You shake your head. "No way. This isn't Indianapolis."

"Oh my God." Robin groans. "The solution is so obvious. Sit on Steve's lap. Boom. Now come on, I'm starving."

You tense. Steve is tactile, sure, and you've become acclimated to that over the years. 

But this? This is way, way beyond that. 

"Uh…" Steve glances at you. "Do you… I mean, if you don't mind?"

You glance at Eddie, who's got the tiniest smirk. You glower and he clears his throat, hiding his mouth behind a lock of hair. 

"I don't mind," you say, more confident than you feel. "It's a short drive."

Eddie nods. "Definitely. I'll step on it."

"Please don't step on it," Robin calls. "We're already chancing fate by letting you drive in the first place."

Eddie huffs, walking to the driver's side. "Y'know, Buckley, you are just…"

You look at Steve. He smiles at you, sweet as always. 

"This isn't gonna aggravate any injuries, right?" you ask. "Me… sitting on you?"

You wince at the wording. 

"No, should be fine. My PT gave me the all clear a month ago."

You nod tightly. "Right. Okay. You go first."

Steve climbs in, planting his feet on the floor. You go next, stooping in front of him. You catch each other's gaze for a moment. Then you laugh, suddenly trying to look anywhere but at Steve. 

"Right, so I'll just…"

You slide onto Steve's lap, trying to hold some of your weight so you won't crush him. He splays an easy hand over your belly and leans over to pull the van door shut. Your heart thunders in your chest. 

"You can sit back, y'know," he says, breath tickling your ear. "’M not made of glass."

"Didn't want your legs to go numb," you joke weakly. 

Steve makes an unhappy noise and tugs you back so you're fully seated on him. You angle yourself so you can look at him. Steve looks up at you, lightly tracing a pattern on your hip. Like you do this all the time. 

"Hi," you say, too jittery to crack another joke. 

Steve smiles gently. "Hey."

His tone is fond. You feel sick. 

"Everybody good?" Eddie asks. 

He adjusts the rear view mirror and you watch his eyebrows shoot up in the reflection. 

"You two look cozy."

"Shut the fuck up, Munson," you mumble. "Just drive, already." 

Eddie giggles like a gremlin in reply and turns the ignition.

It’s not bad, at first. Eddie takes it easy driving through Hawkins. Part of it is because he doesn’t want to attract attention. The other part is that Hopper promised Eddie a night in jail if he caught him running the stop signs again. 

You personally think it’s a bluff. Robin does not; she’s enthusiastically annoying about road safety, and points out every single sign and red light. This causes Eddie to start slamming the breaks in retaliation. 

“Holy fuck!” you yelp when Eddie hits the breaks particularly hard. “Eddie!”

Steve is quick to tug you backwards, considering you’re not belted. You scramble to grab his shoulders and twist to look at him.

“Thanks,” you say breathlessly.

He smiles, then leans away, glaring at the front.

“Really, Munson?”

“She started it!” Eddie insists. “Blame your BFF!”

“Can you drive like someone who doesn’t have a death wish?” Robin shoots back.

Steve’s hands are now on the small of your back and on your hip, respectively. Your legs hang over the side of the carseat, butt nestled quite firmly on his thighs. 

God, you’re never living this down. 

“Y’okay?” 

Steve’s breath in your ear makes you squirm. You turn to look at him.

“Fine,” you murmur. “I’m not crushing you, am I?”

“No,” he says. “Don’t worry.”

Eddie breaks again, harder than before. You slip. 

Steve reacts instantly, his hand grabbing the meat of your thigh. Your dress rides up, so it’s skin on skin. 

The momentum is worse, however, because you jerk back. Right into Steve’s face.

Your nose mashes into his, which isn’t great. But then, your lips smush against his cheek. When you pull back, there’s a smeared lipstick print.

Maybe you’re the one with a death wish.

Robin is screeching incoherently but you can't focus on anything but the smudge of pink on Steve's cheek. Your chest feels tight. 

He looks like he's yours.

"Yeah, we're fine, " Steve says, voice close enough to startle you back into the conversation. 

He looks up at you. Your hand lands on the lipstick, like if you cover it, it'll go away. Steve tilts his head, mouth open in a question. 

"Sorry," you rush out before he can speak. "I got some of my, uh, lipstick on you." 

He relaxes. 

"Oh. Thought I was bleeding or something," he says with a slight laugh. "'S okay, I can wipe it off when we get there."

"Uh-huh." 

You drop your hand. You can't stop staring. Stop staring.

The print isn't exactly in the shape of your lips, but it's close. You can see the divots and where your lips parted. If someone were to see you two, they'd assume a lot of things you're not. 

Steve's collar is wrinkled from the van ride from Hell. His neck is flushed. You wonder how your lipstick would look there. 

Eddie presses the brake, softer this time. Steve's fingers dig into the meat of your thigh anyway. More marks. 

"Alright, relax, gang," Eddie says. "We're almost there."

You touch Steve's cheek again and hope he'll forget to wash you off of his face. 

iv. the secret

It's raining. You're in Steve's bed. 

Thunder shakes the sky. You curl further into your—Steve’s—pillow. It smells like his soap and detergent. 

You used to like the rain. Not so much these days. Rain makes you think of blood on asphalt and being alone at twenty-four. Rain silences you. 

"Do you think he'll come back?" 

You've never dared to ask anyone. Not even Joyce. She'd know. She wouldn't tell you the truth, though. 

Nancy Wheeler probably could. She'd face you with that steel brow of hers and give it to you straight. 

Yes. The monster's back. You're not getting married. 

You slip your hand into Steve’s. He squeezes your fingers. Outside, the rain roars. 

"I don't know," Steve says into the darkness. 

You can't see him like this. It makes you mildly claustrophobic. Maybe you should turn on the hall light. 

"Hopper said he was dead. So did that other guy—uh, Murray. And like, Eddie's okay. And Max. El would tell us if she sensed something. It's not like he could come back without making a sound. I mean, from what she told me, she basically, like, unraveled him from the inside out. Which is pretty gross, but also a good way to keep someone dead."

He's rambling. He's rambling to distract you. 

God, what the fuck are you going to do when you're twenty-four and unmarried and Steve's forgotten all about you? 

"I don't want anyone to die," you whisper. 

Steve squeezes your hand harder. 

"No one's gonna die."

You shift closer. You can barely make out Steve's silhouette. The ends of his hair tickle your knuckles. 

"Hey," he says, and you try to find his eyes, but you can't. "Nothing's gonna happen, okay?" 

"Yeah," you say, even though something did happen, something that almost took him away from you, and you don't know if you can handle that again. 

"You can stay here as long as you want," he says. 

"I can go back to my room."

Steve threads his fingers with yours. You can't see his eyes but it's okay.

"Don't," he says. 

"Okay."

You scoot forward, closing another few inches between you two. Now, you feel Steve's breath on your face. He smells like minty toothpaste. He is alive. 

The rain batters against the windows. You could kiss him. You could kiss him right now, and no one would know except for you and him. 

His breath has begun to even out. You lean in blindly. Your lips land on his hair. 

It's hardly a kiss. It’ll be your secret anyway.

+ and, finally, the first.

"Dustin wanted chocolate milk," you say, not looking up from the tub of yogurt you're searching the date for. 

"Yeah," Steve says, parking the cart to the side. "Kid's addicted."

He opens the giant fridge door and a burst of cold air nips at your arm. You shy away. 

"Six dollars? Jesus, does it come from gold cows?"

You snort, finally putting the yogurt in the cart. You stay at Steve’s house more often than not these days, so there’s no point in getting a separate cart.

"What?" Steve asks, looking at you. 

"You're funny, that's what."

"I am?"

"You sound like somebody's grandpa."

"I do not!"

"Do too," you say sweetly. 

"Do not."

"Do too infinity."

Steve rolls his eyes. 

"Yeah, whatever. I'm a grandpa 'cause I don't wanna spend a leg and an arm on chocolate milk for the little shit? So be it."

"Steve," you begin, eyebrows drawing together. "It's his birthday. Have a heart, old man." 

"Oh, good grief," he mumbles, but he takes the carton and puts it into the cart. 

You smile. Steve shakes his head. 

"This is why I don't go shopping with you. You're an enabler."

"I am," you say happily, walking alongside him as he pushes the cart. 

"And you don't push the cart."

You tut. "Pretty girls don't push shopping carts, Steven." 

"Oh, they just find some poor sap to push it for them, huh?" 

"I'm so glad you're on board," you say, skipping ahead to the chip aisle. 

You look through the shelves and land on two types of Doritos. Cool Ranch and Original. It’s a tough decision.

“Steve, what do you think?” You hold up the bags. “Which do they like better?”

“Ranch. According to Mike, liking the original flavors of snacks is lame.”

You snicker and take three bags of the Cool Ranch. Steve pushes the cart to you. 

“I feel like we’re shopping for our kid,” you say. “We’re the awesome house everybody wants to visit because we have the best snacks and the biggest pool.”

You look up when Steve doesn’t reply. He stares at you, expression unreadable. Your smile dims.

“What?” you ask.

Steve shakes his head.

“Nothing,” he says quietly. “It’s nothing.”

“Steve, seriously. What is it?”

He shakes his head again. 

“Nothing, really. Just zoned out for a second.”

He continues to push the cart down the aisle. You watch him for a moment, then follow. The two of you quickly check off the remaining items on Steve’s list (yes, his actual, physical grocery list), and then you check out.

The cashier smiles at you both in line. She’s an older woman, with the typical poofy blowout nearly every woman over fifty gets at Brenda’s Salon in downtown Hawkins. You busily put the items on the conveyor belt while Steve takes out his wallet and makes conversation with the cashier. It’s a good routine you two have established. 

When the cashier’s done, you squeeze past the cart and grab half of the bags. Steve takes the receipt and the rest of the bags.

“You two are very sweet together,” the cashier says, her round cheeks blush-red like apples. “Have a wonderful day.”

“You too, ma’am,” Steve replies, and heads to the exit.

You’re frozen for a moment, startled until Steve calls your name. You heft the bags in your arms and hurry after him. 

Steve stops and takes two of your bags before crossing the parking lot. 

“Steve,” you say, and huff. “I can carry them.”

“Pretty girls don’t push carts or carry bags. It’s the rule, remember?”

You watch, unimpressed, as Steve then proceeds to try and get his car keys with an armful of grocery bags. When he almost drops a bag for the third time, you sigh and take pity. 

“Which pocket?” you ask, snaking your arm around.

“Back left,” he says, smiling sheepishly.

You roll your eyes, feeling disgustingly fond. You shove your hand down Steve’s back jean pocket. He wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“Take me out to dinner at least,” he says.

“Pretty boys don’t get taken to dinner until the pretty girl has been asked out properly,” you shoot back. 

Steve smiles, but the joke doesn’t land like it usually does. You step away as soon as you get the keys, clearing your throat. 

“Well, I hope you’ve learned your lesson about carrying all the bags, Popeye.”

You open the trunk for him, then go to open the passenger side door.

“If I don’t carry all the bags, how else am I meant to show off to the ladies?”

You pull the handle on the driver’s side for Steve and he gets in, beaming cheekily at you.

“The only person who’s watching you make a fool of yourself is me, big guy,” you say. “So, mission failed.”

You open the glove compartment and start fishing through for gum. You find a Juicy Fruit packet but it’s empty. 

“Damn, that’s what we forgot,” you say, defeatedly crumpling the cardboard. “Gum.”

You start to turn to Steve. “Do you think we—”

You’ve wondered, probably more than you should, about how Steve Harrington kisses. 

Now you know: tenderly. 

He cups both sides of your face, and you have to brace yourself on the center console for balance. Your other hand tangles in his hair. It’s as soft as you imagined, free of product, and you scrunch the baby hairs at the base of his scalp. Steve makes a quiet noise. 

You kiss until you need air. Even then, Steve doesn’t let you go far. You part with only an inch or two between you. 

“There’s gum in the middle compartment,” is the first thing he says.

“Huh?”

“In here.” He pats the compartment between the seats. “Hubba Bubba. I got it last week.”

You giggle and grab Steve’s face with both hands. His hands slip to your arms and he squeezes, smiling gently.

“What?” he asks.

“Fuck, I’m glad I know you,” you say. 

Steve kisses you again. Two. Steve Harrington has officially kissed you two times. 

You hope you’ll lose track at some point.

[burrowlvrr]

— ANXIOUS VICTORY, joe burrow.

PAIRING: Joe Burrow 𝔁 Black!Wife!Reader

GENRE: Husband & Dad Joe

SUMMARY: In which — Y/N has her mind set on attending Joe's game with their three year old twins, Hudson and Elijah, but Joe has his worries due to her blossoming pregnancy.

NOTE: Fair warning, this is kind of long because I enjoy reading long stories/imagines. Feedback is appreciated as well as your support. I apologize for any spelling errors or mistakes. Feel free to send me more ideas and suggestions, enjoy!

UNIVERSE: Tenderhearts & Touchdowns!

The Burrow home was warm, dimly lit, and smelled of tomato sauce. Joe and Y/N's three year old twins, Hudson and Elijah, were sprawled out on their living room rug, scribbling away in their new Paw Patrol coloring books. Y/N was washing a few more dishes as she waited for the garlic bread in the oven, and Joe was setting the table as he usually did to help his wife. He had just placed the twins' booster seats on their plush dining chairs as the oven began to beep — indicating that it was time for him to rush to the kitchen, so he could get the bread out of the oven before Y/N. He entered the kitchen just in time, seeing his wife bent over sliding an oven mitt on her hand.

"No, ma'am." He spoke, placing his right hand on the small of her back. "I'll do it."

Y/N straightened her back, smiling at the blonde man as she slid the oven mitt off of her hand. "I'm perfectly capable of grabbing a pan of breadsticks, honey." She said, earning a small chuckle from her husband.

"I know, mama." He took the oven mitt from her, moving it onto his much larger hand. "I just wanna make sure you don't strain yourself too much." The volume of his voice descended as he bent over, and quickly opened the oven before removing the fresh breadsticks from it. Y/N couldn't help but blush from how considerate her husband was, how he always had been. He was the exact same level of protective when she was pregnant with Hudson and Elijah, only he was much more anxious because they were the first pregnancy.

"I'll fix all of our plates." He placed the pan on the counter, throwing the oven mitt to the side. "You go grab the monsters. The food'll be on the table when you get back." He finished, placing a quick kiss to her forehead before she turned and exited the kitchen.

Waddling into the dimly lit living room, she slowly crouched down to her children's level. "Hi, mama." Hudson chirped. "Hey, mommy!" Elijah cheesed, both of them looking up from their coloring books for the first time in over ten minutes.

"Hey, champs." She ran a hand over their unruly blonde curls, "Are you guys hungry? Daddy is getting your favorite ready."

Their little blue eyes immediately widened in excitement, lifting up from their stomachs to their feet. "Sketti?" He showed his bright teeth as he looked at his mother, Elijah put a hand on his head, looking up at the ceiling with a groan.

"Ugh! We always have sketti, guys!" Y/N giggled at Hudson's excitement and Elijah's annoyance before nodding her head. "Yeah. Sorry, buddy. Sketti is really good and easy for mommy to make." Elijah crossed his arms over his chest with a smirk, giving his mother a knowing look.

"We have to clean up our mess before we eat, though. Okay?" Y/N said, her boys seemingly standing at attention now.

They nodded their heads. "Yes, ma'am!" They chirped, plopping down to their knees. Hudson grabbed their coloring books and neatly stacked them on the table, while Elijah quickly threw their crayons into a large pencil box. He closed the lid before Hudson threw their coloring books on top, grabbing it and sliding it on the table next to their long couch. "All done!" Y/N smiled brightly at her boys, feeling her heart swell with joy knowing how well her and Joe had been raising their boys.

She took her time to rise to her feet, being mindful of her big belly. Once she stood up straight, her boys reached out for her hand and began leading her into the dining room. Joe's face lit up seeing his favorite people, the twins released their mother's hand before running to their father's side instead. "Hey, dudes!" Joe smiled, placing the final plate down on the table and engulfing his sons into a tight hug. "You guys ready to eat?"

Y/N smiled as the boys vigorously nodded their heads. Joe placed them in their booster seats one at a time, where they immediately picked up their small forks and shoveled noodles into their mouths. Joe pulled his wife's chair out as usual, rubbing her shoulder gently once she sat down. "Thank you." She said, placing her napkin on her thigh.

The dining room was consumed by the quiet. The only noise being the scraping of forks on the plates, and the exaggerated slurping sound from the twins eating their dinner. Dinner always went this way, the first few minutes are quiet, then once Y/N starts slowly becoming full she breaks the silence. She finished chewing her garlic bread, wiping her mouth with her napkin before placing it down on the table. Her eyes sparked with enthusiasm, "Guess what, honey? The boys and I were thinking of coming to your game this weekend!"

Joe with a mouthful of spaghetti noodles, glanced over at their lively toddlers, and couldn't help but feel a wave of concern. "You sure about that, babe? The game can get pretty chaotic, especially with the boys being so energetic, and, well, you being pregnant." He said, his tone laced with concern as he spoke.

His wife only smiled, her eyes reflecting her determination. "I know it might be a lot, but they love watching you play, and I want them to experience that excitement. Plus, the baby can hear the crowd cheering, right?" She suggested. She was right, if they went, it would be her and the twins' first game in a while due to her pregnancy's waves of sickness. She had been feeling great all week, and had been itching to see Joe in action on the field.

Joe sighed as he placed his fork down, torn between wanting his family there and worrying about their well-being. "I just don't want it to be too much for you." He looked at his wife, "The stadium can get pretty loud, and the boys are two big bundles of energy."

Look, Y/N was pregnant, almost a week past her five month mark. Her belly wasn't huge, but it most definitely wasn't little either. She had been sick for most of the pregnancy so far, and sometimes between the pain it was fairly easy for her to become aggravated. Joe was very understanding in those times, and was always sweet to her no matter her attitude. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. "I appreciate your concern, Joe, but we can handle it."

Hudson, completely oblivious to the conversation, was busy playing with his food. While Elijah was occasionally mimicking the cheers of a football crowd. As the dinner conversation continued, Joe could sense Y/N's irritation slowly rising even though she was doing pretty well at containing it. "I don't know, babe. Can I just think about it a bit more?" He asked genuinely, looking toward his wife with brooding eyes.

She forced a small smile as she huffed out her nose, "Yeah, sure." She replied, standing from her seat and gathering her plate and silverware. "I think I'm gonna take a bubble bath. Can you put the boys to bed?"

Joe nodded, eyeing his wife's body language as she walked into the kitchen to put her dishes away. She came back into the dining room, placing a kiss on Hudson and Elijah's tomato splattered cheeks before making her way up the stairs. She didn't look at Joe again, letting him know that she truly was irritated with him now and he would have to smooth things over before bed.

He looked toward his twins with a smile, "You full?"

★

Y/N took her time in the bathtub. She felt guilty about leaving dinner abruptly, but she knew Joe would come around, even if it took just a little bit of time. Although she didn't feel up for a conversation right now, she wished Joe would come upstairs already because she hated being upset with him. That was really the only downside of her pregnancy, she was always so emotional and found herself getting irritated with her husband much easier. She finally decided to step out of the bathtub, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around her body.

Joe figured Y/N wanted to be alone for a bit longer, so once he had the boys sound asleep in their race car shaped beds, he went back downstairs and cleaned up the mess left behind by dinner. Y/N had just slipped out of the bathroom, when Joe quietly shut the door to their shared bedroom. He almost winced as he watched his wife walk right past him, grabbing some clothes before going back into their bathroom.

He sat down at the foot of their bed, thinking about how he should approach his wife on the soft topic. Once he had an idea, he untucked their sheets, set his alarms and turned on their bedside lamp. Trading his sweater and jeans for a pair of sweatpants, he made his way over to the bathroom door. He hesitated for a moment, before lifting his hand to softly knock on the door. "Y/N, can I come in, please?"

He heard a faint response, slowly opening the door to find his wife standing at the sink, applying a lotion to her under eyes. He took a moment to examine her features, a look of frustration and hurt was on her face. "I didn't mean to upset you and I'm sorry if it came across in the wrong way." Joe began, his voice filled with remorse. "I just worry about you guys at the game."

Y/N turned to face Joe, seeing the look of guilt and worry on his face. "I know, I just feel like you don't want us there or something." She tried to hush the last part of her sentence, but Joe heard her loud and clear. He could tell by the way her bottom lip began to puff out, she was slowly getting closer to a breakdown. He instantly brought his hands to her cheeks, running his thumbs over her under eyes. "I thought we were supposed to share these moments as a f—family." She stuttered, and her vision blurred from the tears that began to burn her eyes. Her pregnancy was effecting her emotions more than ever right now, and that alone was irritating her more than Joe.

"That's the last thing that I want." Joe said, "I'm just really worried, that's all." Y/N nodded her head, feeling a wave of defeat wash over her body. She nodded her head slowly, as she reached up to remove Joe's hands from her face. "Okay, honey."

Joe felt so guilty, hesitated before he decided to speak up again. He reached Y/N's hand before she could grab the door knob, "Hold up, you gotta let me finish." He said, causing his wife to look up at him with tired eyes. "Maybe it's just my nerves talking. I want you and the boys there more than anything. You just gotta promise me you'll take it easy, okay? Don't go all wifey-bear if I get sacked and scream so loud you lose your voice." Her eyes instantly lit up, she stood up straight to adjust her slouching shoulders.

"You know I can't promise that, Joey." She joked, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "I won't do too much screaming, I don't wanna scare my boys just yet." Joe could see how her mood had already changed, a warm smile of his own forming on his face.

"I'll bring them some ear protection, and I'll even keep your parents on speed dial if I need anything." She reassured his worries, a wave of relief washing over his features as he swept a few stray curls from her forehead. He rested his hand on her cheek, looking into her eyes lovingly. "Okay, mama." He whispered, licking his lips as his eyes grazed over her whole face.

Y/N noticed the way he wet his bottom lip, "Just gonna keep starin' at me, or are you gonna kiss me?" She teased, looking up at her much taller husband. Joe didn't think twice before placing a soft kiss to his wife's lips, pulling away much quicker than she wanted him to. He peeled back with a smirk, leaning over her shoulder to open to bathroom door. "Let's get some sleep."

He helped her into their large bed, throwing the blankets over her, she instantly pulled them up to her chin. Joe made his way to his respective side of the bed, sliding in the sheets beside his wife, who mindlessly scooted closer to him and laid her head on his chest. "I'm sorry for blowing that whole thing out of proportion." She apologized, tracing shapes onto her husband's chest.

Joe shook his head, rubbing circles on her shoulder. "You have nothing to apologize for, Y/N. Just because you're pregnant, doesn't mean you can't make your own decisions. I failed to recognize that. I'm sorry, baby." Joe apologized right back, causing his wife to look up at him with a remorseful expression on her face.

"It's alright, Joey. I get that you were just worried." She responded, moving her ring clad hand to his cheek, rubbing the stubble that he knew she loved so much. "I promise you, Hudson and Elijah are gonna have so much fun, it'll all be so worth it." Joe smiled warmly, thinking of the smile that will never leave their faces once they're at the game. It's not like it would be their first game, it'll just be their first one since their mom found out she was pregnant with their younger sibling.

"I know." Joe replied, watching as his wife's eyes clearly began to get heavier to hold open. He grabbed her hand from his cheek, moving it to his lips before kissing her palm. "Goodnight, mama. I love you."

"Goodnight, Joey. I love you more."

★

The stadium buzzed with anticipation as the Bengals star quarterback prepared for the upcoming game. A subtle layer of worry masked his usual game-day focus, even after the conversations he'd had with his wife a few nights before. His five month pregnant wife, Y/N, and their wildly energetic three year old boys, Hudson and Elijah, were attending the game tonight.

Joe paced nervously around the locker room, glancing at his phone for any updates. The last time Y/N had texted him was the let him know they were getting snacks first, seeing as she didn't want to be up and around much during the game. He couldn't shake the concern about any potential challenges of having his family amidst the excitement of a football game.

"Everything okay, Joe?" Tee Higgins inquired, noticing the furrowed brow. He chewed a piece of bubblegum harshly, cocking his head to the side to look at his quarterback.

"Yeah, just a bit worried. Y/N's pregnant and the boys can be quite the handful. I want them to enjoy the game, but it's chaotic out there." Joe admitted.

His teammate, understanding the delicate balance between family and the intensity of the game, offered a reassuring nod. "They'll be fine. Your family is strong, just like you, man."

Just then, their coach gathered all their attention and Joe quickly thanked Tee for his understanding before grabbing his helmet.

As game time approached, Joe couldn't help but steal glances at the stands. When he spotted Y/N, her baby bump noticeable, with Hudson and Elijah, wide-eyed with excitement, a mix of anxiety and joy flooded their emotions. They both wore some ear protection that looked like it could weigh their head down if they leaned to one side, he smiled seeing his wife's hand raise in the air to give him an excited wave.

Y/N watched the whole game on the edge of her seat, occasionally standing up despite her best efforts to stay seated — trying her best to follow Joe's safety requests. Hudson's smile never fell, he was screaming louder than anyone in their section for his father. Elijah clapped in excitement, looking over at his mother and pointing to his father every three or so minutes. They had been to a few games before, but they were a little older and had a better understanding of the sport. They were already talking about playing it once they started school next year.

Y/N clapped her hands loudly as halftime finally approached, she knew Joe would be over there soon. Not even ten minutes later, her blue eyed husband was standing in front of them on the sidelines. "Hey, you guys okay?" he greeted, a touch of concern in his eyes.

"We're doing great, honey. And so are you." Y/N smiled, reaching her hand down to touch Joe's. Joe smiled widely, relieved to know that his family was enjoying themselves. Hudson and Elijah, both bouncing with enthusiasm, chimed in, "Daddy, did you see us? We waved at you!"

Joe's worry melted into a grin. "I saw, guys!" He reached up high to touch both of his son's heads. "That's awesome. Just make sure you're having fun, okay? And both of you be good for mama!"

Due to his coach's demands, Joe had to jog to the locker room after their interaction. Y/N, Hudson and Elijah waved him goodbye and took their seats until the second half.

As the game progressed, Joe felt a newfound motivation fueled by the presence of his family. Y/N, attuned to his emotions, whispered words of encouragement, both calming and inspiring. Meanwhile, Hudson and Elijah's cheers echoed through the stadium, each one a source of pride for his quarterback father. The Bengals came out on top, the game ending with a touchdown made by a pass from Joe. After the game, Y/N grabbed all of their belongings and both of her sons hands, being careful as they went up and down steps. They stood outside the locker room as she'd done since her and Joe began dating in college, both her and her boys bouncing with anticipation for the man to come out to them.

Once he emerged from the locker room, he swung his bag to his back, took Hudson onto his hip and hugged his wife with one arm around her neck. Y/N held Elijah on her hip as well. "You guys made this win even sweeter. Thanks for being here." he said, genuine gratitude in his eyes.

Y/N hugged him tightly, "We wouldn't miss it for the world. We're your biggest fans, no matter the chaos." She raised a hand to rank through his blonde hair, tears prickling in her eyes. They weren't tears of sadness or fear, just tears of pure happiness.

As they left the stadium, the Burrow family walked hand in hand, the worries of the game day transformed into a cherished memory. In that moment, Joe realized that having his wife and sons by his side added a layer of joy and support that went beyond the triumphs on the field. They were a team, weathering the excitement and challenges together, creating a bond that extended far beyond the football game.

[freedomfireflies]

Tease Me*

Summary: An extra for Teach Me*

The one where you and your best friend, Harry, are invited to a Haunted House.

But ghosts aren’t the only fun thing about this party.

(For my non-spooky besties, the house isn't actually haunted! Just old and abandoned! There are no jump scares💞)

Word Count: 9.5k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, slight exhibitionism, Daddy kink, masturbation, creampie, slight breeding kink, fluff, subspace, Harry being a simp

“Holy…shit.”

The large mansion looms into view. A tall, skeletal structure that’s brightened by the soft glow of the full moon. Hidden behind tall pines and a collection of dancing shadows, it stands like a sentinel of forgotten secrets. Ivy drips from the rotting wood, and boards cover a majority of the windows. The once grand façade bearing the scars of time.

You can see a collection of breathtaking stained glass windows lining the top story of the house. You can’t exactly make out the artwork from this distance, but you know, undoubtedly, that they’re beautiful. Only imagining what those reflections might look like in the sunlight.

The car sneaks along the gravel driveway, the sound of rocks and crunching leaves following you every inch of the way. You feel your breath hitch as you glance over toward Harry, who returns your look with a cocked brow of his own.

He pulls up next to the only other car on the lot. Rather, the only other car for miles. From the passenger seat, you can see Charlie, Jackie, and Caleb all huddled around the hood, conversing in hushed voices, and waving at you both in greeting.

Harry shifts into park before leaning back in his seat to turn his attention to you. “Well?”

You suck in a quiet breath before nodding once. “It’s…spooky.”

“Mhm.”

“And…big.”

“Thanks, but I meant the house,” he replies cooly, and you can’t help but grin.

“Funny. Honestly, I don’t think this is what I was expecting.”

“No?” He considers this with a nod of his own. “I guess it’s more ugly than scary. Caleb said he used to come here all the time when he was a kid. His brother claimed it was haunted.”

“Ooo,” you tease, and Harry smirks. “Do you believe in ghosts?”

He lifts a shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. “I don’t ever really think about it.”

“That’s fair.”

Now his expression twists into something more mischievous as he leans closer to you. “But…if any ghosts come out and try to steal you from me, I have no problem sending ‘em back to the afterlife.”

You laugh again as you playfully swat your hand across his arm before surging forward to kiss him. “You’re an idiot, baby.”

“Yeah. But m’your idiot.”

“Unfortunately.”

He laughs.

With that, you both unbuckle your seatbelts and step out of the car, joining your friends just beside the front steps of the mansion. 

“Well, well, well,” Charlie grins, nodding his chin at the two of you. “Can’t believe you actually showed. Thought Har-Bear wasn’t into Halloween.”

Harry offers another shrug; relaxed but amused. “I’m not. But I wouldn’t mind seeing you get the shit scared out of you.”

Charlie’s expression falls while the rest of you laugh. “Okay, funny. Hysterical. Caleb’s the one that pissed himself when he was here last.”

“I was ten, dipshit,” Caleb snorts. “And I didn’t piss myself, I just screamed a little.”

“Right,” Jackie teases, nudging him with her elbow. “Whatever you say, champ.”

Caleb’s eyes roll, but he’s smiling as the five of you begin to make your way up onto the porch. “You’ll see. It’s spooky.”

“I’m sure we will, bud,” Charlie replies, tossing him a wink. “And after you go running back to the car in tears, we’ll make sure to lock up for you.”

“Thanks.”

“Welcome.”

With a soft laugh, Harry looks over at you. “You scared, Bee?”

“Me? Scared?” you snort. “Never.”

“Good.” He tosses his arm around your shoulder and tugs you into his chest. “Nothing to be scared of while I’m here.”

The other two boys pretend to be annoyed while Jackie offers you both a cheeky grin. “You guys are sickeningly sweet.”

“Oh, we know,” Harry answers impishly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I mean, I do a majority of the heavy lifting. But Bee’s pretty cute, too, I suppose.”

“Hysterical,” you deadpan, using your elbow to shove him away as you all approach the front door.

Your little group slows to a stop, exchanging glances and deep breaths as Caleb slowly says, “…are you ready?”

The air is laced with anticipation and excitement, and the four of you nod before his hand outstretches for the door.

 It opens with a shrill screech as a flock of birds fling from their spot on a nearby branch and take off into the ghostly night sky. 

With a deep breath, Caleb leads you all into the house, head held high, and shoulders back. The mansion is dark and the floorboards creak beneath your sneakers. The air is musky and cobwebs drape from each corner of the doorframe.

Quicky, you all search for your cellphones and flashlights, flipping them on to illuminate the path before you. Revealing a bit more of the corridor as you make your way inside.

“Shit,” Charlie murmurs, eyes wide as his focus flicks from wall to wall. “All right, maybe you weren’t kidding.”

“Told you,” Caleb retorts, peeking his head into the first room. “It’s not exactly scary, but it is cool as hell.”

“No kidding,” Jackie chimes in while you nod. “How many rooms are there?”

“No idea. But there are at least three levels. Plus, the attic, but Zac and I could never figure out how to get up there.”

“I’ll find it,” Charlie declares confidently, and Harry shoots you a knowing smirk. “What? If anyone can, it’s me.”

“I’m sure,” Caleb huffs, slipping in to what looks to be the drawing room. “By all means, go ahead. Honestly, we can split up and check out the other rooms. There’s a lot of cool shit here.”

Charlie nods once, running the light from his phone down one of the walls. Examining the faded wallpaper and dust-covered picture frames.

With a cock of his brow, Harry leans closer, nudging his shoulder against yours. “What do you say? Wanna do some exploring?”

You grin eagerly, nodding as well. “Yeah. Maybe we’ll find the attic first.”

You catch Charlie’s frown out of the corner of your eye, but the five of you can’t help but laugh as Harry leads you toward the next hallway.

The group disperses, with Charlie and Jackie searching the kitchen, Caleb ascending the stairs to the second floor, and you and Harry beginning for some of the bedrooms. 

The house is quiet. Eerily so, with only the sound of your footsteps to accompany you. And even with two flashlights, you can only see a portion of the narrow hallway at a time. From the wooden trim to the chipped paint. 

You fall in line behind Harry’s taller frame, allowing him to guide you toward the furthest room as he strides with a confidence you envy. Unaffected by the sounds, and smells, and ghostly aurora. 

“You all right back there, Bee?” he calls after a moment more of your silence. Seeming to catch your strained inhales and lack of commentary. “Still with me?”

“Yes,” you whisper, but it’s airy. As though your voice has been swept away by the hands of a ghost. “Just…trying not to trip.”

Even without seeing the full of his face, you can tell he’s smiling. “Come on, lovey, you know I’d catch you.”

“Uh-huh,” you murmur, lashes fluttering as you glance up toward the old chandelier dangling from the tall ceiling.

Suddenly, Harry stops, forcing you to catch yourself against him before he glances at you. “Hop on.”

Confused, you blink. “What?”

“Hop on,” he repeats, placing his cellphone between his teeth while crouching down. Allowing you access to his back in an invitation to climb up.

And once you finally understand, you can’t help but smile. Slipping your arms around his shoulders before hoisting yourself onto his body. Legs curling around his hips while his hands reach back to keep you sturdy.

Once you’re settled, you gently pull the phone from between his lips and aim the fluorescent gleam across the room. Providing him a bit more light to see as he straightens up.

“Thank you, baby,” he hums. “You all right?”

“Mhm. Are you?”

“Very. Just make sure to hold on, yeah?”

You grin a bit wider and tuck your chin over his shoulder. “Promise.”

With that, he begins down the hall, keeping his fingers tight around your ankles. “All right, baby dove, where do you wanna go first?”

Vaguely, you gesture toward the closest room. From the small sliver your light catches, you can see that it’s filled with large curtains and furniture draped in cloth. It looks…reminiscent. Calling to you and inviting you to step inside a lost era, a forgotten memory. 

He carries you closer, and as he strides through the murky corridor, you use the height advantage to look around. Taking in the more subtle details of the old house.

The hand railing beside the staircase. The broken floor beneath you. The cracked light fixtures and dusty bookshelves. 

You can’t imagine the life that was lived. The parties they threw, the elegance that sang from every corner, the memories that were created.

You wonder about the people who built it. Wonder what they were like, what made them leave. If they ever reminisce about the old house they used to call home.

“It’s beautiful,” you find yourself saying, exhaling the sentiment almost fondly.

Harry hums again, eyes trailing across the expanse of the carpet underneath his shoes. “Shame nobody ever bought it and fixed it up.”

“Yeah,” you agree quietly. “Maybe we should.”

He smiles at this, squeezing your legs a bit tighter. “Oh, yeah?”

“Mhm. Wouldn’t it be fun? A little passion project?”

“Maybe. Don’t know what we’d do with all this space, though.”

You shrug. “Well, we’d have plenty of room to storm off if we got into a fight.”

He laughs. “Yeah?”

“And we’d have plenty of places for…you know, other things.”

“Other things,” he repeats knowingly, glancing back with a smirk. “I do love our other things.”

You snuggle closer. “And if we ever wanted to start a family…we’d have room for that, too.”

He’s quiet now, his tongue slowly sweeping across his bottom lip in thought. “D’you think about our family, Bee?”

“I do,” you admit, almost sheepishly. “Sometimes. Not, like…right away, or anything. But…I just wonder, I guess. What you’d be like. What we’d be like.”

“Yeah? And how are we?”

“We’re good,” you tell him. “You’re the fun parent. Of course. And I’m the one that makes them do their homework and eat their veggies.”

He grins. “Of course.”

“And they have your hair. Lots of curls, very wild.”

“Mm.”

“And they love to sing. They aren’t good at it…but they love it.”

He laughs a bit louder this time, head shaking as he brushes his thumbs across the exposed skin of your ankles. “Sounds about right.”

“And we’re really happy,” you finish tenderly. “And we have two dogs, and one cat. And nothing changes between us. We’re still us, and we still love each other a lot, and we still go on tons of adventures and have really good, wild sex.”

He’s smiling so hard, you can see his dimples. “I wouldn’t want anything less.”

“Me, either.”

You fall silent as Harry finally brings you both into the large room, ducking beneath the frame to make sure you don’t hit your head. You kiss the side of his jaw gratefully before he sets you down with a gentle plop, allowing you both to straighten up and take a look around.

Sizable paintings hang from each wall. Encased behind gold, elegant frames that are layered with a light film of dust. Even still, the artwork is breathtaking. Portraits of what look to be great men and women. Soft brush strokes that are wildly vivid, despite the many years stuck in this dark room.

Harry takes his flashlight from you and aims it toward the green, velvet sofa in the middle of the vast space. Eyes wide as he studies it. “A lot of this stuff is in better shape than I thought it’d be.”

You make a noise of agreement as you gingerly run your fingers along the faded wallpaper. “I wonder what made them leave this all behind?”

“I don’t know. S’probably worth a fortune.”

“And it’s still here? Nobody came and looted it?”

He sports a rather charmed grin at your choice of wording. “Guess not. Kind of strange, honestly. City never reclaimed it, either.”

“Yeah…”

He glances over, a mischievous glint behind the soft green. “Maybe there’s a reason.”

“What?”

The corner of his mouth quirks up. “Maybe…the ghosts won’t let it go.”

Finally understanding his joke, you roll your eyes with a snort before striding toward the giant bookshelf. “Ha, ha.”

“Maybe the owners died in the fifties,” he continues, dropping his voice to a lower drawl. Attempting to add a bit of mystique and suspicion. “Maybe they were murdered in cold blood. And they never found out who killed them, so they haunt the grounds of their old house. Until the day their killer dares to come back.”

You pretend to be intrigued, nodding along with faux fascination. “Uh-huh. Which makes us…what? Ghost bait?”

“Mmm…perhaps,” he murmurs, stalking toward you. “Perhaps that’s why Caleb really brought us here. To feed us to his ancestors. Appease the Halloween Gods.”

“Right.”

He closes the distance between you, angling the beam of his light up toward his face as dark shadows dance across his features. “Or maybe Caleb isn’t Caleb at all. Maybe…he’s a ghost—”

Suddenly, he jolts forward, making you gasp as you steel yourself from the sudden movement. Eyes wide and heart racing.

But once you realize he’s merely messing with you, you begin to glare. Scoffing, “God, you’re an ass.”

He drops his cellphone and beams at you. Much too smug with his victory. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I won’t resist drop kicking your ass out that window.”

“Fair enough,” he chuckles, peering down at you with a delicate look of adoration before he’s pressing his lips to yours. “Forgive me?”

You try to pout into the kiss, but he’s too good. Warm and soft and the definition of comfort. “Hm. Fine. Just this once.”

He offers one final peck before returning to his search. Hands sweeping along the grimy bookshelves, fingers trailing down the broken spines. He seems lost in thought, and you watch almost fondly as he reaches out for one particular title.

“Frankenstein,” he reads aloud, tilting it back with a smile. “Used to be my favorite growing up.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. My mom used to read it to me all the time.”

And you feel this undeniable tug on your heartstrings as you settle behind him, arms slipping around his middle. “What did you like about it?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess I liked the idea of something so…broken being so beautiful. Or maybe it was just the idea of how he was built. And why. You know?”

“Yeah. I think it’s sweet you liked it so much. You never told me.”

“I mean, I stopped reading it as I got older. I think I just liked the way my mom read it to me. She’d do all these voices, try to freak me out.”

You laugh. “Yeah, that sounds like her.”

“It was great. I loved it. S’probably one of my favorite memories growing up.”

And there’s that yanking in your chest again. “You’re cute, you know that?”

He smirks. “Thanks.”

With that, he releases the book, allowing it to fall back into place on the shelf beside the other novels.

But, the moment it lands, a startling and rather jarring rumble explodes from somewhere behind you. Compelling a jump as you both spin around in search for the offending sound.

And there, just beside the old grandfather clock that sits near the door, hangs one of the large paintings. This one of a beautiful woman wearing a stunning, purple grown and a coy smile. Yet, her portrait is moving. Sliding across the wall as if by magic until you’re able to see what lies behind.

A passageway. 

You suck in a gasp as you and Harry both shine your lights into the dark opening. Finding nothing more than a narrow stairway that disappears into somewhere else in the house.

You look to Harry.

Harry looks to you.

“What the fuck,” he whispers, but you can see the excitement weaving through his dimple. “That’s…the coolest shit I’ve ever seen.”

You can’t help but agree, feet drawing you closer, as if compelled by the mesmeric introduction and inviting shadows. “Yeah…”

Footsteps follow you. “Bee, hold on. We don’t know where it goes or if we can get back out.”

Now, you hesitate, considering the rather valid point. “It probably leads to the attic. Caleb said he couldn’t figure out how to get up there, but I’m sure there’s a way back down. There’d have to be.”

“Maybe. Or maybe…that’s where the ghosts are waiting to lure us in—”

“All right,” you hiss, shoving on his arm before continuing for the door. “I will slap that dimple right off your face, I’m serious.”

“Well, you know I like it when you do.”

And even despite his teasing, you feel your stomach flip. Memories calling back to the forefront of your mind as you remember his pink skin and arrogant smirk. The way he’d beg you to keep going – give him more. 

“Can you please be serious?” you choose to say, reaching back for his hand as you approach the entrance. “Because if we die in here, I don’t want one of the last things we said to be one of your shitty jokes.”

He laughs, but intertwines his fingers with yours willingly. Squeezing your palm for comfort. “Sorry, lovey. By all means, please do lead us into the deathtrap. You’ll hear no more jokes from me. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

“Good boy.”

He squishes your hand again knowingly before you take a deep breath and begin up the stairs. 

The walls are about five feet apart in width, providing a rather narrow space for the two of you to slip between as you ascend up into the rest of the house. The path curves like a spiral, up and up until you’re almost sure there’s nowhere else to go. And your head pops right out of the roof.

Then, you come to the last one, and see that it opens up and leads into something else. A vast, empty floor with more light that you’ve seen anywhere else in the house. 

Curious, you move a bit faster, eager to see what awaits. And once you step into the room…your breath catches.

Stained glass windows decorate each wall, the full moon projecting the most beautiful colors and imagery across the entire space. From the floor to the ceiling and every inch in between. It’s like walking into a rainbow. Or heaven. Such a stark contrast from the eerie journey up the stairs in nothing but darkness.

Harry’s shoulder brushes against yours as he steps up beside you. Eyes fluttering as he pockets his phone and glances about the room admiringly. “Wow.”

“Yeah,” you agree in a quiet whisper. Walking toward the first window as your fingers outstretch for the tempered glass. “It’s…it’s beautiful.”

“It is.” He follows you. “They must have loved it up here.”

You feel yourself smile. “I bet it was the perfect hideaway.” You motion toward the furthest wall where a dainty (but somewhat tattered) window seat lies. “Bet they came up here and just read or painted all day. Watched the sun rise and set.”

You feel him staring at you. Observing your profile as you continue to glance around, trying to soak in every little detail. 

Then, you feel him. His touch sweeping across your cheek before he’s brushing a bit of hair from your shoulder. “Did you mean what you said earlier?”

You glance over.

“About us. Having kids, starting a family.” His expression is void of any of his previous taunting. Instead, solely focused on the soft skin of your jaw as he ghosts his thumb beneath your chin. “Is that what you really want? With me?”

And a part of your heart aches because…yes. You’d live a million lifetimes with him. With kids, without kids. Here, there. Fast-paced or easy-going. You’d do it all. You’d do everything with him.

Everything.

You reach up and slip your fingers around his wrist. Keeping him close as you nuzzle into his palm. “Of course I would, Har. Just want you.”

He steps closer, taking both sides of your face in his hands now as he keeps you in his strong hold. Gazing at you lovingly until you feel your insides twist. 

“I will give you anything you want, Bee,” he murmurs, and you can feel his promise dance across your lips. “Give you kids. Give you a big, beautiful home. Give you the life you deserve.”

You inhale quietly, desperately grasping onto his arms.

“Anything you want, baby,” he breathes, and you know how much he means it. “Give you fucking everything.”

Tears spring to your eyes, dancing along your waterline until one jumps down your cheek. Right into Harry’s waiting thumb where he quickly soothes it away. “You know I would,” you tell him in a timid whisper. “I promise, I would, I just…I can’t…”

His eyes soften when he understands, yet his head shakes as he brings your chest to his. “It doesn’t matter how or why. If we want to start a family, we can. Any way we want to. Any way you want to. Nothing else matters, lovey. Just wanna do it together.”

Together.

You stumble over a choked sob, burying yourself in his embrace while he dips down to kiss you. Harder than he has all night and filled with a kind of love that can’t be explained. Only felt through the synchronistic brushing of his lips against yours. 

“My girl,” he exhales, nudging his nose along your cheek before bringing his kisses back. “My fucking girl. Know I love you, yeah? Know you’re my only?”

You whimper, nodding pitifully as you allow him to take the reins. Deciding how far and how deep this kiss goes. 

“Good.” He drops his hands to your hips, squeezing once. “Because you are, Bee. Never loved anybody the way I love you.”

And you know – you know he means it. 

Something clicks in your brain. Something lustful and needy. You’re overcome with this anxious desire to have him. To be with him wholly. You want to crawl into his skin and live there. Be as close to him as possible. 

Show him exactly how much he means to you.

The kisses become hungrier. Sloppier. Rushed and borderline animalistic as you reach down and lace your fingers with his. Guiding him away from the wall and toward the carpet in the center of the room.

He seems to understand your intent. Smiling against your mouth as you move him where you want him.

“Sneaky girl,” he breathes, pressing his mouth to your neck. Nipping below your ear until you sigh contently. “S’that why you really wanted to come up here, hm? Wanted to get me alone? Have your way with me?”

And even though he’s effortlessly putting the power in your hands, you can’t help but feel swayed by him. Drawn in by his suggestion and prowess while your stomach flips in on itself.

“Maybe,” you admit quietly, grinning when he chuckles darkly. “Because maybe I know…you want me to have my way with you. Don’t you?”

He nods quickly, groaning almost to himself before he gropes at your waist and moves his kisses to your exposed collarbone. “Do anything you want, Bee. I meant it.”

Pleased, you take yourself away from him. “Good. Because I want you on your knees.”

And he almost looks disappointed that he’s had to stop kissing you, but the starvation behind his eyes is unmistakable. 

He drops so quickly, your head spins. Head tilted back and hands obediently landing on his thighs in wait. 

“Good boy,” you can’t help but mutter, reaching down to press your palm to his cheek in gratitude. “Always obey me so well.”

“Always,” he repeats reverently. Voice thick as though drunk with longing.

“Can’t take too long, okay? They might come looking for us, and I don’t think we’d ever be able to live that down,” you add, softening your tone some to ease the charged tension.

“I know,” he replies quickly. Almost pitifully, as if desperate to agree and make you happy. “Be quick, I swear.”

A grin splits your face. “Want you to take off your jeans, baby,” you instruct now, nodding toward his hips. “Just your jeans. Don’t want you to get cold.”

So, he does. Fumbling with his belt and button before dragging the dark fabric down his beautiful thighs, revealing his new tattoo. It catches the moonlight and the reflection of the red glass across the room. Drawing in your attention while your mouth nearly waters.

But he doesn’t seem to notice. Instead working quickly to rid himself of the material before returning to his knees. 

“Good. My jeans next,” you tell him, and he extends his hands toward your waist.

Just as quickly as before, he slips, pulls, and tugs until you can step out of your pants and toss them aside. Making sure to hold your hand as you do so you don’t lose your balance. 

It’s these little things that endear you to him. The way he doesn’t even realize he’s done something thoughtful. Instead offering such a gesture out of reflex and love.

“Thank you, baby,” you whisper, squeezing his chin once. “Now…I want you to lie back for me, okay? Don’t want you to do anything else. Just wanna take care of you.”

His Adam’s apple bobs with a thick swallow, and you can nearly see his heart thumping against his chest. He’s on his back in seconds, obediently lying on the carpet with his focus trained on you. Eager to see what you have in mind. 

Truth be told, you’re rather eager, too. Crouching down near his ankles until you can straddle his legs.

He lifts his head off the floor in order to see you, glued to your every move while his breath hitches.

You begin to make your way up his body. Bringing your lips to the beautiful, warm skin of his thighs as you travel toward his hips. Allowing your kisses to guide you.

You hear him release a strained curse. Catching the way his chest rises and falls a bit more rapidly, as if in tune with his racing heart. And you’re going so slow, you think you might kill him. Dragging your tongue along the tattoo before flicking your eyes to his. Making sure you truly have his undivided attention.

His lashes flutter, leg twitching beneath you. “Bee…”

“Yes, baby?” Your coy innocence makes another groan reverberate from his chest. “What do you want, hm?”

“Please,” is all he has the strength to mumble, fingers twitching beside him. Desperate to weave through your hair and tug. “Lovey, please…”

“I know. But I wanna play with you a bit first, okay?” You straighten up and crawl toward the tops of his thighs, just above his dark boxers. “Gonna let me play with you, Daddy?”

Another quick nod before he drops his head back to the floor. Overcome with desire.

And you imagine you know what he thinks you’re going to do. That he’s confident in his guess as he awaits for you to confirm his suspicion.

But there’s something much more thrilling about catching him off guard. Torturing him just a little. 

Because you know he loves it.

Once you feel comfortable in your new position, you allow your hand to travel between your legs. Dancing beneath the hem of your sweater before settling atop your baby blue underwear.

Your light grazes are innocent at first. Soft strokes along the cotton fabric. Enough to earn a shiver while Harry’s eyes cement to your hand. Mesmerized by the way you touch yourself.

You hum at the faint but teasing touches. Feeling almost giddy to quench this flame. Create pleasure for yourself and allow him to watch you. See exactly how good it feels.

Then, you hook the fabric to the side, and allow him the perfect visual of your cunt.

You notice a sharp chill as the cold air nips at you, but it only aids in encouraging you further. Making you grin to yourself while you use your other hand to drag your fingers through your pussy. Slipping between your folds and up to your clit.

“Shit,” he murmurs, eyelids growing heavier. “Shit, Bee—”

You circle the sensitive nerves a few times to work yourself up. Indulging in the feel and the unexplainable relief it provides. It’s like a drug. Addicting and somehow not nearly enough.

“Baby, please—” he tries again, palms finally reaching for your thighs in an effort to touch you. At least somehow. “Fuck—”

“Thought you wanted to be good,” you say, pinching your clit until you gasp. “Thought…thought you wanted to give me anything—”

“I do,” he answers through a rushed breath. “Bee, I do. I do, please—”

“Then, I want you to watch. Want you to watch what you do to me.”

He groans again, and you can see the slight pink in his cheeks from the frigid air and the way he’s so entranced with you. “Lovey, please…”

You slip down, teasing the tip of your finger around your fluttering hole until you can feel the arousal beginning to gather. Humming while you roll your hips in tune with your hand. Riding your own fingers before you’re moving back to your clit.

“Har…” His name slips out before you can stop it. Sighing from your tongue without pause. As if it’s instinct to associate him with your pleasure. To say his name in a desperate plea for more.

You feel him squeeze your legs. Tighter than he ever has. “M’here,” he calls. “M’right here, baby. What do you need?”

Too much. “You, Har. You, always.”

He’s pulling on you now. Palms smoothing up the globes of your ass until he can practically yank you closer. “Just ask. Ask me, Bee, and I’ll give it to you.”

And you’re torturing yourself. Perhaps more than him, and you nearly whimper when you realize how badly you miss him.

So, you remove your hands from between your legs in order to reach for his boxers. Slipping inside and pulling his cock out until he lands against his stomach. Beautiful, and flushed, and leaking pearlescent drops that glisten beneath the light of the moon. 

And once it’s free, you grind down. Dragging your once more covered cunt along his shaft. Close, but not close enough. Just to provide a bit of friction and make him moan as you brace yourself against his chest.

Your nails curl into the dark material of his shirt, scraping down his stomach as you reel. It’s so much and yet not even close to satiating you. Merely taunting you with the idea of what you really want. A type of release that will never be truly satisfactory like this.

“Fuck—” A lewd moan scrapes from the back of his throat. Hands pressing hard into your hips to help roll you over his cock faster and quicker. “Gonna fucking kill me, Bee.”

You’d like to be smug, but you’re too far gone to feel anything but need. “Har—”

“Gonna cum like this, baby? S’this all it takes?”

“I’m…I…”

“Look so cute, lovey. So fucking cute, using my cock to get off. Feels so good, doesn’t it? Rubbing your pretty little pussy all over me?”

Your eyes roll back, head feeling heavy as your chin drops to your chest.

Then, you feel his thumb against the only part of your clit he can reach. Pressing into it just enough to make you whimper. “Shh. It’s okay, I’ve got you. Wanna cum? Go ahead, you can cum, Bee. Make me so happy…just wanna feel you—”

And you hate how quickly it hits you. Hate that you truly thought you’d be able to edge yourself until you made him break.

But it consumes you from the inside out. Blindsiding your dominance until it sweeps you under his current. You become a trembling, shaking, moaning mess above him.

“There you go. Good fucking girl. So good…s’perfect,” he murmurs, continuing to guide you through it until you nearly collapse. “Feel better, baby?”

You nod weakly, cracking your eyes open just enough to catch his look of approval.

“Good,” he replies before a dark look seems to take hold. Hungrier than you’ve ever seen him. 

Suddenly, he’s sitting up. Forcing you to lean back as his arms loop around your waist and he’s hoisting you both into the air. Straightening back onto his feet while carrying you in his arms toward the furthest wall.

You barely get the chance to glance around before he’s dropping you onto the small window seat, right against the painted glass.

With a gasp, you collide with the cushion (which is admittedly much more comfortable than the floor), gazing up at him with surprise and wonder.

He says nothing. He can’t. He’s lost in his need for you – for your pleasure. Crouching down near your legs in order to reach for your panties and rip them from ankles. And once they’ve been tossed aside, he settles his body between your thighs, and surges forward.

His mouth is the closest to heaven you imagine you’ll ever get. Warm and wet and so expertly kind as he drags his tongue between your soaked, sensitive folds. Flicking at your clit before sucking it into his mouth with the kind of sound that makes your chest cave in.

“Har—” you whine, writhing a bit from the overstimulation and intensified pleasure. He’s chasing after your next orgasm before your first has even subsided, and it nearly wrecks you. “Shit, Harry—”

Still, he has no response. There’s no time or room to speak with the way he nips at your cunt before lowering. Letting his tongue slide inside you before pulling it back. Just enough to leave you squirming.

“Harry,” you try again, reaching out to card your fingers through his hair. Tugging with fervor until he does it again. “Fuck…please—”

His hands find your thighs. Pushing them open even further until you can feel the strain on your muscles from such a stretch. 

He’s suffocating himself. Buried in your pussy, he takes whatever he wants. Greedily swallowing you down with lascivious groans and exhales of contentment. Fingers curling around your legs, leaving bruises along your sensitive skin.

He’s insatiable. Ignoring your cries and whimpers for mercy, instead pushing you back to the brink. Making you see stars before you can prepare yourself.

You’re all over his face. Can see yourself glisten off his chin and swollen lips, the stunning stained glass windows painting ethereal pictures of him on his knees. Taking you on his tongue as though his life depends on it.

He captures your clit between his teeth and tugs. Eliciting another wounded, pitiful noise as you slump against the glass.

The second orgasm is just as powerful as the first, if not more. Because this time, he’s actually touching you. Blowing on your clit the moment he sees you begin to unravel, effortlessly dragging you into more pleasure.

You scratch his scalp so hard, you’re surprised you don’t draw blood. Practically pulling him through you while you ride his tongue and the wave of euphoria until you come crashing back down to Earth. 

“Oh, my god,” you whimper, features contorting with bliss. “Shit, H…please…please—”

But he’s far from through. Already licking the remnants of your orgasm from your quivering hole while you attempt to writhe away. The overstimulation almost painful as tears spring back to your eyes.

“Wait…wait, please,” you whisper, trying to recapture his attention by yanking on his curls and pushing your legs against his hands. “Baby, please…I need you. Need more, H…please.”

He looks up, and you see a glimmer of the moon in his eye. “What do you need more of? Hm? Tell me.”

You let your head drop back against the window, chest heaving beneath your thick sweater. “Har…can’t…I can’t, I need…need—”

“What?” he pushes. And you can hear the smug undertones as well as the reemergence of his cocky dimple. “What, baby? Tell Daddy what you need.”

And he knows what you need. He always knows, even before you do. But he wants to hear you say it. Wants to force the words from your mouth. Wants you to beg him for his cock.

With a heavy sigh, you answer, “You.”

“You already have me.”

You whine and toss your leg over his shoulder. Digging your heel into his spine to encourage him closer. “Need you to fuck me, H. Please…please, fuck me.”

His grin grows. “Well, well, well. Look at that. My sweet girl knows how to use her words after all.”

He crawls up to you, hands settling beside your hips as he leans forward.

“Doesn’t she?” he whispers, allowing his lips to ghost across yours. Teasing you with a taste of yourself. 

You feel as though you’re drowning. Unable to capture enough air in your lungs to survive, and you throw your hands around his neck to yank him the remaining two inches. 

 His tongue feels like heaven against yours. A mix of you and him that you swallow greedily. Wanting more than he’s seeming to give you.

“Please,” you try again. Releasing the ask against his cheek before nuzzling your nose under his jaw. Intoxicated by the scent of him. “Harry…”

He doesn’t have much strength to refuse you. His willpower long forgotten as he quickly obliges and grabs onto your waist to yank you to the edge of the seat.

He then lifts your leg and sets it onto the cushion, bending it at the knee to create the angle he wants. Allowing him enough room to work while he grabs onto his cock and removes his boxers the rest of the way.

Hard and heavy in his hand, he guides the tip between your thighs. Dragging it down your clit almost tauntingly before slipping in. And it’s far too easy. He disappears into our pussy almost unintentionally. Allowing your warmth to draw him in and keep him inside you.

You can’t help the smile that stretches across your face.

“Shit,” he whispers when he feels the way your walls squeeze around his length. You might be used to his size, but those first few seconds are always euphoric. “There you go…you all right, Bee?”

You nod wordlessly, reaching out for his shoulders for something to hold onto. 

“I know,” is all he says in response. Able to read your tells better than anyone ever has. “S’all right. I’ve got you.”

Once he’s fully inside of you, he offers a moment of relief. Settling there while his hands return to your hips to lift you up ever-so-slightly in order to use you the way he wants. 

“Go,” you beg, nails drawing patterns down his back. “M’okay, go. Wanna feel you. Need to feel you cum.”

“Yeah?” He draws back before driving in. Hard enough to knock a gasp from your chest. “That’s what you want? Want Daddy’s cum in this pretty pussy?”

A blissful haze begins to cloud your vision. His sinfully sweet taunt ringing between your ears. Inciting an idea and a need you hadn’t thought possible.  

“Oh…” When he realizes, that wicked look returns. “Oh, baby. You do, don’t you? Wanna be full of me. Want me to fill this sweet, little cunt until you’re dripping. Till I’m spilling out of you. All down your thighs. Down to the floor.”

You make another incoherent noise before succumbing to his hard thrusts. Falling mute and limp. 

“Want me to lick it up…just to spit it down your throat,” he continues. “Want me everywhere. In your pussy…in your tummy. Just wanna be so fucking full of me.”

Every word from his mouth is crude and delicious. Designed to torture you and it works.

Because he’s right. You do want him everywhere. Want to feel him across every inch of your skin, inside every pore, dripping from every part of your body. Want to be stuffed with him. His tongue, his cock, his cum. There’s no part of this man you aren’t infatuated by.

“Say it,” he hisses, tugging your body up higher until he can slam into you from a different position. Finding that beautiful spot that makes your toes curl while you cry out and grab onto the seat beneath you for support. “Say how much you want my cum. Beg me for it.”

You can feel the sweat dripping down your back. Can feel the exhaustion in your limbs from having to contain so much pleasure. 

And he’s careless yet practiced. Still gentle, even when he’s ramming his hips into yours. Nearly tearing you in half with the force of his cock, but with a sort of devotion you can’t explain. Even with such force, you feel relaxed. 

Almost as if this is how you were always meant to be.

And then…something faint. Distant and familiar. The sound of voices – your friend’s voices, coming from somewhere inside the house.

For a moment, you worry you’ve been caught. That they’ve found you and are ready to run screaming from the house.

But you catch pieces of their conversation. Vague and somewhat confusing. 

“—well, then, you check. I already tried—”

“—probably just looking around. Maybe they went back to their car—”

“—I’ll text her. They could be lost. This place is huge—”

They haven’t found you. In fact, it seems they’re still searching. Unaware that the two of you found the attic, and perhaps even unaware of the passageway, too.

Harry seems rather relaxed as he pauses just long enough to glance up. A look of understanding forming as he nods toward the ceiling.

You look, too.

The voices are coming from the vent. Echoing the conversation from somewhere else in the house as they walk through.

Your heart races. Because if you can hear them, that means…

He seems to consider this at the same time you do, head cocking deviously as he pulls back. “Shh,” he murmurs, thumb stroking your waist. “Gonna have to be extra quiet for me, okay?”

You take in another deep breath, another whine already bubbling up the back of your throat.

But he realizes this almost instantly. Hand coming up to press against your mouth and muffle your pathetic cry before you can make it. “Uh-uh,” he hisses, attempting to chastise but you can tell he’s amused. “Said no, Bee. Need you quiet or I stop.”

But he can’t stop. You can’t let him stop. You think if he stops, you might die. That you’ll disappear into nothing and spend the rest of your life chasing something only he can offer.

Instead, you grab onto his wrist, and keep it against your lips. Using it as an excuse to whimper against his palm and promise your attempt at silence.

And maybe he’s unconvinced. But he’s just as desperate as you are. To finish and find that serenity. To feel each other in every sense of the word.

So he takes your vow of obedience and continues. Resuming his thrusts as the sounds of voices slowly begin to fade away. 

You’re brought right back to the precipice of pleasure. Reminded yet again of why you’d do anything for him. Why he’s so addicting. Not just because of his body…but because his heart.

Shades of blue, red, yellow, and purple explode across the walls and across your eyelids. The colors rich and vibrant, accentuated by the bright glow of the moon. 

And you can see him perfectly. Can see his stunningly structured face. The ridge of his nose, the sharp edge of his jaw. The damp curls that lay across his forehead and the rosy skin of his cheeks.

You know he’s always been handsome. Not just to you, but to everyone.

But now…he’s ethereal. Because he’s not just some guy. He’s not just Harry. He’s the man you love. The only true home for your soul. Your comfort place, your future.

Your everything.

And that’s what makes him so beautiful.

When he notices your stare, something shifts. He drops his hand, and surges forward to kiss you. Throwing a stutter in his rhythm as he laces his tongue with yours. 

“Shit,” is all you manage to make out of his hushed moans. “Gonna give you everything, Bee. Gonna fill you. Keep my cum inside you forever. Fucking forever, baby. M’yours. Always.”

You can feel yourself clenching down on him. Already approaching your third before he’s even allowed himself a first. It’s a trait of his you’ve noticed he exhibits quite often. Perhaps it’s a masochistic practice or perhaps it’s his nature to want your orgasms over his own. Waiting until he’s sure you’re taken care of before he allows himself to find relief. 

Yet another one of these little things you’d be lost without.

When he realizes just how close you are, he leans back and brings his lips together. Spitting directly onto your clit before bringing his fingers into play.

“There,” he grits, inflicting quick circles against the tender, swollen nerves that make you whine. “That’s all it takes, isn’t it?”

Your body answers for you. You’re nothing but a string of noises and twitching muscles. Dissolving into your orgasm until that’s all you are. Just his victory. His perfect prize to be claimed.

You feel him watch you. Infatuated with the way you tense and squirm before you finally settle back against the glass to catch your breath.

And perhaps that’s what does it for him. Not just feeling you cum but seeing it. The physical proof of your passion written so visibly across your face. The way you soak his cock, the way you drip down onto the seat below, the way you cling to him.

He chases that sensation. Chases the way it makes him feel and the release it promises him. 

It doesn’t take long for him to finish now that he’s not holding himself back. A few quick but hard thrusts and he’s spilling himself into your pussy with a low groan, face burying into your neck.

He holds you still through every second. As close as he possibly can, even after you’re sure he’s finished. 

The emotional orgasm feels just as overwhelming as the physical one. You can’t help but wrap your arms around his body to hold him against your heart. Listening to the sounds of his strained breaths before they slowly even out. 

And he’s so happy. You know he is. Refusing to move as his cum sits inside of you. Wanting to keep it there like he promised.

You want to keep him the same way. 

“Fuck,” you hear him whisper. It seems unintelligible curse words are about all the two of you have to offer in moments like this. It makes you smile. “Think I came so hard, I blacked out.”

You giggle at this, moving to hook your leg around his middle. “I’m glad you came. Feels good.”

He turns his head so his cheek can rest on your shoulder. “Yeah? S’my cum feel nice? All warm inside you?”

And there’s something about the way he says it. Soft but secure. Teasing you and caring for you all in the same breath.

You hum.

“Got it all snug inside your little pussy, baby?” He presses a kiss to your neck. A reassuring gesture meant to reward you. “Gonna keep it for me?”

You nod fervently before clinging onto his body a bit tighter. Feeling a shiver roll down your spine – either from the cold or his response. Truthfully, you aren’t sure. 

“Hmm. That’s my good girl,” he murmurs, slipping an arm around your waist in order to hold you closer. Hugging you, almost, as he settles in your embrace. “Guess we better get going, hm?”

But you don’t like this idea. Already feeling your expression fall into a desolate pout as you suck in a sharp inhale and cement yourself to his larger frame. 

He senses this shift – this refusal – and stills. “What? What’s wrong?”

You don’t have an answer. You suppose nothing is wrong, per se…as long as he doesn’t leave. 

“Bee,” he tries again, a bit firmer. The singular nickname laced with apprehension. “Lovey, what happened, what's wrong? You know you have to talk to me, okay? Have to communicate with me—”

“Nothing,” you whisper, cutting his bargaining short. “Nothing, I just…don’t want you to go, Daddy.”

A brief pause. Silent and filled with an unspoken tension that melts into something tender. “Bee, I’m not going anywhere. Just wanna clean you up and hold you a bit. Like we always do. That’s all right, isn’t it?”

You consider this. You do love when he holds you. Especially when he runs his hands down your sore limbs. Massaging the aches away while keeping you safe in his arms.

The mere thought makes you sigh. “Promise?”

He squeezes your hip. “Always, baby.”

With that, you unhook yourself from his body, and allow him to move back. Taking himself from you almost painfully before he’s putting himself away and moving for your clothes. 

He finds your underwear and both pairs of jeans, bringing them back to you almost respectfully.

He helps you step into them, securing your panties around your waist with an impish wink and a soft, “Gonna save it for later, yeah?”

Once you’re both dressed again, he fits himself between you and the window, and places you in the middle of his lap. Your back against his chest while his palms sweep up and down your arms, easing the pains away.

“Was that okay?” he asks after a quiet moment of reflection. “Did you like what we did?”

 You drop your focus down to his hands. To the way they look on your body. You hum. Say nothing. 

In turn, he shifts, attempting to sneak a glimpse of the side of your face. “Bee, d’you hear me?”

Still, you’re silent. Trailing your finger along his knuckles and over his wrist. Entranced by him. Hypnotized.

He uses this very hand to reach for your jaw. Squeezing it just hard enough to capture your attention and turn your face to his. “Baby, you’re scaring me. Are you all right?”

You feel your frown return, chest tightening with the implication. “Scared? Why are you scared? What…what did I do?”

There’s a subtle pull in his eyebrows. Almost imperceptible but you manage to catch it before it smooths away. “Nothing, sweet girl. But I want to make sure you’re okay. That I didn’t hurt you or take things too far. And if I did, I want to know. I need to know.”

“Daddy, you never hurt me. Ever.” The frown intensifies, nearly taking control of your whole face. “Don’t say that, it makes me sad.”

Again, a flash of confusion and subtle recognition streaks behind his soft gaze. “Daddy just wants to make sure you’re feeling all right. That you feel safe and comfortable with me. Now…and before.”

“Of course I do. Always feel comfortable with you.”

You imagine he should feel relieved to hear this, and yet he sighs as he releases your jaw. “Oh, baby.”

It’s heavy the way he speaks. Akin to disappointment, but there’s a touch of sadness. Perhaps even understanding.

It breeds a constriction in your chest that feels like a snake coiling around your lungs. “What…what did I do? Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” he’s quick to whisper, tightening his hold on you. “God, no, sweet girl. Just realized something, that’s all.”

A tad reassured, you straighten up. “Oh? What?”

He nuzzles his cheek against your temple and pulls you even further into his chest. “Nothing bad, I promise. Just that I need to take extra good care of you right now.”

“Really?

 He nods. “Mhm. So, what do you think, lovey, hm? Should we go home? Think we’ve done enough exploring for one day.”

Your lashes flutter, a bit startled by the switch. “We…you wanna leave?”

“I do. I wanna take you home and hold you. Properly,” he says gently, laying a chaste kiss to your forehead. “We can take a bath, get all nice and warm again. Know it’s getting cold, isn’t it?”

Truthfully, you hadn’t realized the drastic drop in temperature. But with this mention, you feel a noticeable chill dancing across the room. Can feel your breath grow icier as it leaves your lips.

“And once we’re warm again, we can crawl into bed, and just stay,” he continues. “Watch a movie, eat some snacks. Do whatever you wanna do, baby. S’that sound good?”

And it does. It sounds like heaven. Anything with him always does. “Can we please?”

He grins again before kissing your temple again. “Of course. We’ll head out now. Think you can walk or do you need my help?”

Your legs do feel a bit wobbly, but in all honesty, the idea of having him hold you all the way down is what you really want. To make sure he doesn’t take himself from you, even if you’re merely walking to the car.

Your innocent pout is answer enough, and he chuckles. “Want my help, don’t you?”

Nodding eagerly, you sit up, allowing him to slip back out from behind you and stand. Once he has, he takes your hand and pulls you to your feet, making sure to steady you when you feel a bit rocky before leading you toward the stairs.

You leave the heavenly room behind, bidding the stunning shadows adieu as you disappear down the dark stairwell. 

And you hope, if there are ghosts, that they enjoyed the show.

After you’ve returned to the spare room on the first floor, Harry strides over to the bookshelf, and tilts the Frankenstein book back just like he had before. Prompting the portrait to slide closed in the same manner as it had when it opened. Hiding the secret staircase away for the next wandering couple.

Then, he turns to you. “All right, baby, let’s go.”

He crouches down, signaling that he’d like you to climb onto his back again, and you do rather giddily. Cementing yourself to his spine as you cling to him like a koala bear, allowing him to lead you back out into the main part of the house.

You find your friends already waiting by the door, talking casually until they see you coming out from the shadows.

You feel Harry squeeze your ankles as a sign of encouragement and you sigh to yourself while cuddling closer.

“Where the hell have you been, we’ve been looking everywhere,” Jackie calls. “You just left me with these dipshits.”

Harry chuckles. “Sorry. Got a bit lost and then we started talking. Did you find the attic?”

“No,” Charlie huffs, and he sounds rather offended. “I don’t think there is an attic. Think Caleb’s just full of shit.”

“I’m telling you, it’s there,” Caleb argues. “Other people have gone up, I just don’t know how they found it.”

“Huh. Weird,” Harry muses, and you have to turn your face away to hide your smirk. “Well, listen, I think we’re gonna head out. But this was fun. Thanks for the invite.”

“Aw, really? Already? We thought maybe we’d head over to Waffle House or something,” Jackie tells you. “You know, eat a shit ton of whipped cream and syrup in the spirit of Halloween.”

To this, Harry smiles, glancing back at you as if to check for permission and see if you’re interested. But you can’t really offer him much else except a shy grin, which he seems to understand.

“I think we’re just gonna turn in for the night,” he says instead. “But you guys have fun. We’ll have to do this again for Christmas.”

The other three laugh as you call your goodbyes and allow Harry to carry you to the car. 

He sets you down by the passenger door in order to unlock it and swing it open. And once it is, he’s still ever the gentleman, helping you sit and making sure you’re buckled in before shutting the door and jogging over to his side.

As he fumbles with his keys and gets the engine started, your eyes trail up toward the top of the large mansion before you. Finding those beautiful windows once more as you bid them goodbye as well.

You feel Harry’s hand slip around yours, recapturing your attention as you look over and catch his grin. “You ready?”

You nod and squeeze his palm three times. “Mhm. Always.”

Pleased, he brings your knuckles to his lips. Leaving a lingering kiss that nearly takes your breath away. “Happy Halloween, Bee.”

And your heart has never felt so full. 

“Happy Halloween, Harry.”

HAPPY HALLOWEEN 🧡🧡🧡 (or just regular old Tuesday)!!! Thank you so much for joining me for Freaky Fun and for being so kind and supportive!!! You all have my heart!! Have a safe, wonderful night filled with laughs and amazing treats!! 😭♥️

~ Full Teach Me Masterlist

~ Full Freak Fun Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

~ Blurb Masterlist

Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @onlystylesss28 @winterrays @jessitpwk @aslugforharry @allthelovehes @straightnogayhs @adoringhrry @harrysxcarolina @lillefroe @avasversion @littlelunamoon @harrysgf01 @lexiecamposv @spinningoutwaiting4ya @hs-tpwkrry @vyctorya @b-reads-things @thiyaabs @buckybarnessimpp @whoreforjamesbuckybarnes @cherryluvhobi @mybabyh @xellybellyx @reneemunson @juliatpwk @wolfmoonmusic @buckyssbestgirl @wandasbae616 @imavirginhoe @nuggetdean @chubby-cheek-calum @itsmytimetoodream @scndsofsummer @theofficialprongs

[katemartinismywife]

big ten champs - k.m

☺︎ kate martin ☺︎

Overtime. Natalee was praying that Iowa was going to come out with the win. She kept her eyes on her fiance Kate Martin as they were exiting the huddle to begin the jump ball. "Come on baby" Natalee yelled with no care in the world. She wanted this win for Kate.

She knew they could win this for the third year in a row. Kate ran to the corner preparing for her three-pointer. Sydney gets the ball and passes it to Kate allowing her to sink the shot. Natalee cheered and squeezed Kate's mom's hand.

"They've got it" Jill spoke squeezing her hand back. 84-82. Iowa was losing. It was back to Iowa's ball possession. They left Kate open at the three-point line. 84-85. Nebraska shoots a three...they make it. 89-91. It is time for Kate to shoot her free throws.

Jill wraps her arms around Natalee, praying her shots go in. Her first show bounces on the rim a little before falling in. "Yes, Kate!" Jill and Natalee both yell getting ready for her next shot. She misses her second shot. "It's okay baby! You got 18 seconds left" Natalee cheered watching Kate the entire time.

She didn't miss the light smirk Kate did while running back to get on defense either. 89-94.. IOWA WINS. Jill and Natalee begin jumping up and down hugging each other. After the two minute team celebration, Kate runs over to Natalee pulling her out of the stands.

Natalee wraps her legs around Kate, hiding her face in the crook of her neck. "I'm so proud of you baby," Natalee tells her leaning up and kissing her lips. Natalee slides down seeing cameras zoom in on the two.

Natalee wipes the happy tears off of Kate's face and places a kiss where the tears used to be. Kate continues holding her waist while hugging her mom and speaking to fans. "Meet me in the tunnel" Kate whispers to her kissing her cheek and running off.

"You make her so happy Nat" Jill smiles hugging her future daughter-in-law. "That's all I want to do" Natalee states hugging her back and wiping a tear off her face. Natalee walks inside the tunnel and scrolls on her phone before she feels her fiance's presence in front of her.

"Hi baby" Kate smiles wrapping her into a sweaty hug. "Hi my love" Natalee responds wrapping her arms around her waist. "I heard you cheering for me" Kate smiles letting her hands rest on Nat's hips. "I have to support my fiance" Natalee cheeses showing Kate the ring.

"Mm that word sounds nice"

"What word?" Natalee teases allowing her hands to crawl under Kate's jersey feeling her sweaty back. "The f word" Kate smirks kissing her forehead. "My sexy fiance" Kate connects their lips letting them move together slowly. Both girls letting out small moans.

"Excuse me? Kate they are ready for your interview" One of the team managers tell her shyly then walking off. "Way to ruin a moment" Kate jokes pulling Nat with her to the interview.

Natalee stands in the corner to make sure she isn't in the way, but she still has a good angle on Kate.

"Kate you carried your team during OT with your three's. How does that make you feel?" Kate keeps her eye on Nat who smiles at her from the corner. Kate smirks then begins to answer the question.

"Nebraska just left me open and when I see an opportunity I take it. All of our girls put in work to win this game today, so people can't just say it is me, Caitlin, or Gabbie."

"Why was this game so important to you?"

"Every game is important, but this is my last college championship and I had to make sure I did everything I could out there. And it is hard for every game to not mean something because I have my family and my fiance cheering for me, I mean they miss important things to them just so they can come watch me play."

"Fiance?"

"Yes. I got engaged recently and I guess this is our announcement." Kate laughed scratching the back of her head. "Is he in the room with us?" "SHE is actually" Kate motions for Natalee to come stand beside her.

"This is my fiance, Natalee." Kate smiles kissing the side of her head.

[megu-meow]

missin' you crazy - Gojo Satoru

gojo satoru x fem.reader

Summary: moments when Gojo misses you and tries to cope with you being away.

Satoru always did everything so that he wouldn't depend on anybody but himself. Growing up, he was given everything, he didn't have to do anything on his own - that shows when he moves into the Jujutsu Tech dorms and he's the only one incapable of doing his own laundry, however, he always preferred being alone for his emotional well-being. He was conditioned into thinking that friends, family, and lovers were only sources of weakness, and the Strongest must not have weaknesses. But people change in high school and that most certainly applies to the prodigy of the Gojo clan as well. Firstly, he befriends his classmate, a dark-haired kid with the ability of Curse Manipulation, Geto Suguru. The two of them click instantly, despite their different upbringings and their clashing personalities. They wreak havoc around campus together, making every teacher and student aware of their immense power and the dominance they have over the entire Jujutsu World. So when you get admitted to the Tokyo branch of the two existing sorcery schools, you are already aware of the potential your upperclassmen have. However, you're not the type to settle, so you challenge yourself to work hard enough to get to their level, and for the first time, Gojo Satoru meets someone he finds to be intimidating. Not only are you determined and hot-headed, but you're also kind-hearted and gentle. Satoru cannot help but blush every single time you ask him about his well-being or every time you bring him souvenirs from your missions from around the world. Gojo finds himself slowly falling in love with you, a big no-no for him, based on the teaching of his clan members. However, he wouldn't be the Strongest if he let anyone but him influence his decisions in life, so he asks you out anyway and is thrilled when you agree, because no matter how arrogant, spoiled, and insufferable you think he is, he also has a big heart and he's sweet, considerate and gentle towards you.

Over time, Satoru learns that you're sent away abroad a lot, given how your cursed technique consists of you being able to speak any language, imbedded with cursed energy that can manipulate humans, curses, sorcerers, and curse users alike. It's a unique and powerful technique that Gojo admires, one that is considered extremely useful around the globe. And with you, his favorite person on the entire planet, being away comes an unbearable amount of suffering - so he says.

The first time you take on a longer mission overseas, it's around three or four months into your relationship. Satoru is being driven back to campus by an auxiliary manager from the airport, where they dropped you off approximately ten minutes ago. His eyes are glued to the display of his overly expensive flip phone, an obnoxious message from you opened, one full of emotes he would usually consider silly, but his heart aches from knowing that this is the last point of contact he would have with you for the next two weeks. The year is 2006 and cell phones are not developed enough to maintain stable connection across the globe, so he knows he won't hear your voice or see your face until you come back to Tokyo. As soon as he arrives back on campus he looks for Shoko and Suguru, maybe they could distract him enough so that he forgets how much he misses you. It's a new feeling for him, it somewhat pisses him off, not one person was important enough for him before that he would experience how missing someone would feel like, but here he is. Miserable.

"You look rough, champ." Shoko teases from the top of the girls' dorm building, where she and Suguru are sharing a cigarette.

"What happened, Satoru? Did they run out of strawberry mochi at the convenience store?" Geto asks curiously. It's not every day that Gojo's smile is wiped from his face or the bounce is missing from his step.

"No, I don't want mochi right now." the white-haired sorcerer sighs dramatically, as he teleports to the roof and sits down beside his friends.

"Oh, something's definitely wrong. You always want mochi..." Shoko exclaims.

"I KNOW WHY HE'S SULKING!" Geto states with a wide smile, trying to contain his laughter "Didn't our beloved kohai, Y/N leave for a long mission today?"

"You're right, Geto, she did!" says Shoko, while Satoru stays quiet, his eyes focused on the ground under him, his long fingers fiddling with a loose thread on his school uniform. "Do you miss her already, Gojo?"

"I guess so... We didn't spend much time apart since we started dating."

"You're smitten, Satoru!" Geto says matter-of-factly and flicks his best friend in the head to annoy him even more.

"Yeah..." the wielder of the Six Eyes agrees and disappears in an instant, teleporting into his dorm room. He hopes that waking up early and running around helping you pack all day tired him out enough so that he could go to sleep straight away, but he's totally wrong: he's been tossing and turning for hours now, unable to sleep, thinking about how you're so far away, possibly still on a flight to get to your exotic destination. He's huffing, dramatically flailing his limbs around as he turns into his back, eyeing the blank, perfectly white ceiling of his dorm. He remembers the fluorescent stars decorating your room, he thinks about how calming they are when it's pitch black outside and there's no other source of light when he wakes up beside you in your bed in the middle of the night. He turns again and suddenly gets a whiff of your sweet perfume and he shoots up, looking around the darkness surrounding him. He spots one of your plushies that he gave to you on your second date, that time you went to an arcade and he promised he would get you any stuffed toy you wanted. His plan miserably failed, but then he used his technique at ring toss, wielding the air around so that he could succeed and got you the stuffed penguin you were eyeing the whole evening. He picks up the toy, bringing it close to his chest as he buries his nose into the soft fur in between his fingers. It smells exactly like you, a mixture of your perfume, your shampoo, and body wash as calmness takes over his tense muscles. Sleep comes easy after that and the next 13 days fly by just like that, he keeps the toy close to his person the whole time, having it around gives him a sense of security, one that he didn't realize existed while he was around you before.

After 14 days you're finally back in his arms, he's at the airport waiting for you, of course, with a bouquet of flowers and an explosive amount of energy. He swoons a bit when he spots you, in one of his expensive, black sweatshirts and he teases you for wearing it, however, you don't mind, you tell him without hesitation that it was the only item that could provide you the comfort to go through your mission without him. He smiles widely, pressing a loving kiss to your forehead, but he doesn't mention his newfound attachment to your stuffed penguin.

The second time you leave for nearly a month, Satoru is dealing with a lot. His best friend just recently left Jujutsu High to become a curse user, a murderer (Gojo hates referring to him as one, but it's the truth). You don't want to leave either, it's evident from the endless tears that are running down your face. You want to assure him, that you love him and you'll always come back to him, but the "L word" is not something you've said to each other before and you know talking about feelings is not the Strogest's forte, so you stay silent, trying to express your strong emotions towards him with long embraces, soft, loving kisses and mindful squeezes to his hands. He understands, more than ever, that you're just as committed to this relationship as he is, he knows you're not going to leave him like Suguru and you will never develop insane beliefs that would turn the entire Jujutsu World against you. You're more level-headed than that. So he decides, he's gonna confess to you, he's gonna admit he's irreversibly in love with you, but no words leave his mouth. He doesn't know why, he thinks it's because he recently lost one of the few people he allowed to get close to his heart and he doesn't want to admit something that would make him vulnerable. The real reason though, is that those words have never been spoken by the Strongest for anyone besides his mother. So he spends the whole time you're away contemplating his decision to let you leave without telling you how he really feels, his brain drifts towards the scene at the airport even while fighting a Special Grade curse he would consider amusingly weak on any other day. He doesn't sleep, he overworks himself, but that doesn't affect him as he conditioned his brain into healing itself constantly. However, at one point the tiredness takes over him and he shuffles instinctively towards your dorm room where he falls asleep instantly in between your familiar sheets. That night he dreams of you, he cannot quite recall the details, but he knows he wakes up with a smile on his face and that's the point where he decides he would tell you he loves you the moment he picks you up at the airport. He does exactly that and you say the words back in between tears because you're an emotional mess every time you two get reunited.

The third time, he's already a teacher at Jujutsu Tech and the two of you have your own house inside the school barriers. Satoru spends a lot of time on missions as well and he doesn't like leaving you completely alone, so knowing that you're safe inside Tengen-sama's protection gives him a level of calmness but he never stops worrying for you. However, it's the first time you're leaving him since you moved into your shared home and he suddenly realizes that home does not necessarily mean a place, but a person. The first time he truly felt at home somewhere was in this exact house when the two of you moved in, but without your music softly playing, the smell of your cooking lingering around and your soft hums/giggles it's not the same. When he gets home late from a mission he notices your absence from the couch, your curled up form waiting for him with tired, but happy eyes. The heater setting is the same as he put it on a few days ago, not slightly higher, because you're not around to complain about being cold. He walks towards your shared bedroom with his head hanging low and he looks around the usually comforting space with a lonely sigh. He walks up to your vanity, your jewelry box open, displaying all the beautiful pieces he gifted you over the years. Images of you wearing them run through his mind, the domestic scenario of you asking him to put on your favorite necklace for you in the morning. He always complies, leaving kisses on your neck and collarbones, inhaling your scent that never changed since high school. His eyes drift towards the slim band around his ring finger and he smiles, because you made an oath to return to him every time you leave.

A few days later you're back, as you get older your missions shorten because you finish them in a smaller time frame than expected. You're cool and talented like that. The house fills with your music and the smell of your cooking again, the giggles can be heard as well after Satoru starts tickling your sides while he admires the smile plastered on your face lovingly.

The fourth time, Itadori walks around campus, looking for his teacher. He's late for class and after an intense battle between the three first-year students, it has been decided that Yuji had to be the one to look for Gojo. However, he's caught by Principal Yaga, whose blood instantly boils upon hearing about Satoru's slacking out.

"Follow me, Itadori. I know exactly where that idiot is." the intimidating adult starts walking down the corridor, towards the staff offices. He guides the kid to your office and he opens the door widely. Yuji steps in and he instantly notices his teacher, fast asleep on your couch with a fluffy, pink blanket around him as he embraces your stuffed penguin close to his chest. This has become routine of Satorus over the years, as he slowly learned how to cope with your absence. He knows you spray both the blanket and the stuffie with your perfume before you leave because you know what he's doing every time. You've received numerous pictures of him in this exact state from Shoko over the years and your heart swells with love every time.

"Whoa, whose office is this?" Yuji asks looking around. He admires all the different memorabilia you’ve collected from your travels around the world.

"It belongs to Y/n-san. Gojo loves sleeping in here when she's away." the principal explains, as he tries to shake Gojo awake, but fails miserably because of his infinity.

"That's a bit creepy, isn't it?" the boy asks, not quite understanding the situation.

"Not when she's your wife and you're the clingiest person to ever walk on this earth."

"GOJO-SENSEI HAS A WIFE?" Itadori exclaims in shock, fishing out his phone from his pocket to text Nobara.

"Yeah, the prettiest one as well." they hear from the couch as Gojo gets up and stretches. "I'm sorry for being late to class, I don't get much sleep when..."

"...your pretty girl is out of town, we know Satoru! Now get back to teaching!" Yaga exclaims and Gojo mutters an obnoxious 'scary' into Yuji's ear.

The boy giggles and they both leave towards the classroom they're supposed to be in. As soon as they get there, Nobara bombards them with millions of questions, demanding to see pictures of the 'idiot that tolerates Gojo' and is surprised when Megumi scoffs at her, warning her not to refer to you as an idiot. However, Satoru is glad to show them all his favorite pictures and he tells the kids stories about you, ones that are new to Megumi as well. Gojo Satoru is not alone anymore, on the contrary, he hates being alone. However, over the years he learned how to cope. At least he knows you will always come back to him, no matter what. As long as he's surrounded by your scent, your belongings, Megumi, his other students, and the stuffed penguin is close by, waiting for you to come back is not as hard as he first imagined.

[theroyalsims]

BREAKING: ANYA AND GUS MAKE SIMBLEDON DEBUT

Our favourite soon to be Mr. and Mrs. were welcomed with loud cheers at Simbledon this afternoon!

Lovebird Anya and Gus enjoyed the Simbledon Women's Singles Finals in the best seats of the arena straight from the Royal Box.

(Above: This marks Gus' first official outing as a soon-to-be member of the Royal Family.)

The historic day at the courts marks the first official outing of the couple after their engagement was announced a couple of months ago.

Although, yes, it might seem like the two are just enjoying a day off and having a tennis date, the trip to the world's most prestigious tennis arena is actually "work" for the Crown Princess, who is attending the event as the Royal Patron of the Brindleton Tennis and Croquet Club (BTCC).

(Above: Anya and Gus received a very warm welcome upon their arrival.)

HRH and Gus were greeted by former Simbledon champ, Louisa Naayers - Hawthorne and her husband. Louisa famously had a 7-time back-to-back Simbledon win over three decades ago. She now sits as one of the directors of the BTCC.

Anya stunned in a bright blue knit dress, which she complemented with nude accessories including a clutch and low-heel slingbacks. Gus, meanwhile, looked dapper in a cream suit. He did, however, match his tie and his trousers to Anya's blue frock.

(Above: Gus rests his hand on Anya's back, as the couple head to their seats at the Royal Box.)

And while there wasn't any hand-holding - rumour has it that the Queen "advised" the two about proper decorum and protocol while out on official engagements - we did notice that Gus constantly kept a protective hand behind Anya's back. They were also seen engaging in lively banter during the event.

Gus, however, is somehow new to the glitzy world of Brindelton tennis, and it seems like he much rather prefers rugby and football. A source close that he's recently just picked up the game - thanks to Anya, of course:

"He's not exactly what I would call a 'tennis guy.' He isn't particularly fond of tennis. He doesn't, or maybe I should say 'didn't,' play. He's more into rugby and football. He's catching up these days though, particularly since Anya loves the sport. They've played a few times, and Anya's coaching him - he's in very good hands because she's actually wonderful at tennis."

(Above: The couple sat next to Mr. and Mrs. Hawthorne at the Royal Box.)

Could his inexperience in the sport be a sore spot for the couple? The source says "no":

"Oh, no, not at all. He loves that he's seeing more of her world. He's happy to be a part of it. And of course, Anya is very excited to share things with Gus. If there's any competition in whatever sports they play, it's very friendly - these two have a shared wicked sense of humour."

(Above: Today's big win belongs to Glimmerbrook's Lucky Harries.)

As for today's big game, Glimmerbrook tennis pro Lucinda "Lucky" Harries won big! Living up to her name, the two-time champ once again proved that she's one of the best in the game! The multi-hyphenated powerhouse (she's has a law degree!) beat Komorebi's Wi-Yen Kobaya in a nail-biting 3-set thriller match.

(Above: Anya and Gus in their own little world! Despite being in an arena and surrounded by over ten thousand tennis fans, the lovebirds were spotted enjoying a lovely moment!)

The Crown Princess is expected to attend the closing ceremony to hand out the awards later this week. Here's hoping she lets Gus tag along again, because we just love seeing these two together!

[secret-cod-thoughts]

(I'm doing another Graves one because, you don't understand, IM OBSESSED)

Philip Graves, again, is such a fucking bottom.

If you're AMAB, this guy will suck you DRY. He will stay on his knees for as long as you let him, just keeping up at it. God, he'll whine so nicely if you grab the back of his head and throat fuck his throat RAW...

If you're AFAB, he will take your strap like a goddamn CHAMP, no matter the size. You can start off small, but he'll whine about it not being big enough. Bust out the big one, I'm talking eight, nine or ten inches and he will SCREAM for you.

Philip would not have any shame and he would fucking scream for you, calling you Mommy or Daddy, begging for more.

(Mommy/Daddy, go faster, go harder, FUCK ME! Make me limp, spank my ass raw, make my voice hoarse!)