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multifariousqueer · 3 months

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Ooo for a Nate request could you do something like Nate x shy virgin reader or something like that ?🤭

Ofc darling!!🩷

Warnings: smut, mentions of bruising and abuse, deflowering, sub! Reader, strong language, nate being rough, idk I think that’s it

The warm autumn air brushed your skin as Nate’s hand snaked its way around your waist. He had began walking you to school during the summer so that you didn’t get kidnapped. That was one of his biggest fears, you getting kidnapped and assaulted. He would offer to drive you but you liked to walk when the weather was nice:

“So I’ll pick you up at 3, okay?” He spoke. It wasn’t a question so much as it was a statement.

You knew not to test Nate after seeing what he did to Maddy and Cassie. Nate would never intentionally hurt you physically, but hey, accidents happen right?

“Okay” you said softly. Nate loved when you would speak softly and do whatever he wanted.

He smiled and led you into the building, where he saw Maddy who gave you both a death glare:

*Flashback*

“You know he’s toxic, right? He held a gun to my head, are you fucking stupid? Why would you date him?” Maddy said to you once she found out about your relationship

“I’m sorry” you said in tears. You had always looked up to Maddy and seeing her mad at you made you want to die.

“You will be” she said before leaving. That was the last time you guys spoke three months ago.

Since that day, Nate became more and more protective over you. He was always the jealous and possessive type but this pushed it over the edge. Nate loved Maddy but he loved you more, and if anything happened to you, he would kill whoever hurt you with a baseball bat.

Nate always had his hand around your waist or holding your other hand as he carried your books in his abnormally large hand. If anyone looked at you funny, he would shoot them a death glare and grip you tighter, sometimes even leaving bruises. Nate liked leaving bruises because it proved that you belonged to him.

He watched as you migrated over to your friends and watched in awe at how pretty you looked. Your hair was in a ponytail and your clothes were tailored to your body perfectly, your smile lit up the room as you giggled at one of your girl friends jokes.

Nate barred you from having guy friends that weren’t his because he didn’t like the idea of someone hitting on you, Nate took offense whenever someone tried to take what was his. To him, you were his toy, his object of affection that only belonged to him and no one else. He admired how clean and untouched you were, never having a serious relationship before him and never even having sex at all. Thoughts of you in compromising positions and in outfits that only he could see littered his mind throughout the day and made his pants tighten. He couldn’t wait for what he had planned after school.

*Flashback*

Nate and you had gone to the mall one day after school. You browsed for a new pair of shoes but Nate had gone for other, more promiscuous reasons. He took you into Victoria Secret and bought you a bunch of lingerie in pink:

“Here. Try this” he said, holding up a stringy pair of underwear with a bra that had a bow on the breast.

You eyed it nervously before hesitantly agreeing to try it on.

You tried it on and Nate’s breath hitched. He pulled you in between his legs and grabbed the bow on the bra and pulled it, leaving your breasts exposed.

Nate pulled your sensitive buds in his mouth while you let out a small moan:

“Please not here” you breathed

Nate bit down on your nipple and gave you a look that told you to just go along with it. He rolled your nipple in between his teeth as you let out small moans and breaths, the fitting room getting a bit hot as his mouth moved from your nipples to your mouth:

“I don’t wanna take your virginity here, babe” he breathed

“Than where?” you asked

Nate whisked you up over his shoulder as he took off the lingerie and replaced it with your normal clothes. He walked up to the register, still holding you and said:

“These please”

You walked out of the mall and he ushered you into his truck, your outfit riding up a bit as you slid into the seat.

It seemed like you would never use that set but the day finally came. He took you to his house where he had a picnic in the backyard:

“Hi, y/n!” Nate’s mother said

“Hi, Mrs. Jacob’s” you answered with a smile

Nate’s family loved you because you made Nate seriously happy and you were respectful, unlike Maddy who disrespected them all the time.

Nate ushered you into the back and sat you down gracefully.

“Aww Nate, thank you so much” you cooed

“Mhmmm anything for you, babe” he spoke

You two chatted about any and everything, mostly about football and how he had found his fathers tapes:

“That’s horrible. What can I do to help?” You asked

“Well, now that you mention it-“ Nate started before lifting you up bridal style and carrying you to the bedroom.

You were innocent and Nate knew that. You had never done anything sexual with anyone in your life:

“Have you ever done this before?” Nate asked

“no” you said, feeling 1 inch tall

“Have you ever touched yourself?” He asked, looking down at you as he placed you on the bed.

“Ummm… yes” you said, hesitating to answer honestly because you were afraid that he wouldn’t be happy

“Hm. Okay” he said before laying you down on your back and spreading your legs

Nate pulled your panties off and spit on your core, sending low whimpers from your mouth into the space. He grabbed your neck and whispered in your ear:

“Can I fuck you?”

“yeah. just be gentle” you begged

Nate scoffed and said:

“always”

He rubbed circles along your clit as moans escaped your lips, sliding two fingers in and pumping them gently:

“Fuck you’re so tight for me” he breathed

Your mind was preoccupied on how full you felt. If his fingers were this big, you couldn’t imagine how big his cock was. Luckily, you didn’t have to imagine long because as your orgasm was approaching, Nate stopped, leaving you empty and frustrated.

“Not yet, cutie” he smiled.

Nate pulled out his hard cock as you watched in awe at the sheer size of it. He saw the look in your eyes and said:

“You’ll get used to it”

He pushed himself inside of you as you let out a moan of pain. You gripped onto his bicep as you felt like you were being split open by him. He let out a loud groan as he felt your warm walls grip onto him. His eyes found yours as tears filled your eyes and he grabbed your hand:

“Do you wanna stop?”

“I- ughh- no” you said through tears

Nate paused for a moment to give you time to adjust to him. You tapped him to let him know that he could keep going and he did. His hips moved at a slow pace as your face went from an expression of pain to pleasure. His pace picked up as moans escaped your lips and his mouth found your neck and chest, leaving large bruises on both. He wanted the world to know that he had you the night before, in such a vulnerable position underneath him.

His pace went from fast, to very fast as the vulgar sound of skin slapping and your tight cunt drove him to the edge. His eyebrows furrowing as his orgasm approached in a wave. He looked down at you and placed his hand on your neck as he angled his cock up so that it was touching your g spot. He thrusted upwards in a way that made your walls twitch and grip onto him. Your back arched and your mouth parted as your orgasm approached fast:

“I think I’m gonna cum” you moaned

“Not yet.” He said

“Please?” you pleaded

Nate pulled out his cock and you whimpered.

“Since you wanna act like a slut and not listen to me, I’ll treat you like the slut you are” he breathed before flipping you onto your stomach and holding onto your neck.

His thrusts were rough and merciless as you whined into the pillow, his grip tightening on your neck as his thrusts became sloppier and your orgasm became closer and closer.

“Cum. Now.” He barked

You did exactly that as a wave of pleasure washed over you and made you unable to move. You lay there, a moaning mess as your boyfriend released ropes of his cum into you, marking you as his.

“I’m sorry for being so rough” Nate said breathily

“Mmmmm it’s okay” you moaned

He picked you up and laid you on the mattress properly as he left to grab a cool towel and your favorite big shirt of his. You laid there reminiscing on how amazing your first time was.

Nate cleaned you up and joined you on the mattress, pulling you into his embrace.

“Nate?” You asked

“Yeah?” He said

“Can we do that again?” You asked innocently

He chuckled and said:

“Maybe tomorrow, Princess”

#nate jacob’s #nate jacobs #Nate Jacob’s x reader #nate jacobs smut #euphoria #euphoria smut #nate jacobs x y/n #nate jacobs x reader #nate jacobs x you #nate jacobs blurb #nate jacobs imagine #jacob elordi #jacob elordi x reader #jacob elordi smut #jacob elordi imagine #for you #foryou

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forlix · 7 months

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𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬, 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬 !・h.h.

— you’re just trying to do your job; your client has other ideas.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬・1.3k 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠・idol!hyunjin x gn!makeup artist!reader 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬・very suggestive so mdni, reader implied to be shorter than hyunjin 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞𝐬・fluff, flirting, humor, big fwb vibes

𝐚/𝐧・this took me less than half an hour to write i am actually the biggest sucker for this trope. also, we hit another milestone recently!! i appreciate all of you immensely; look forward to more ♡

[!]・hi hey hello as of one month later a full-length fic based on this au has been posted!! here it is; you can read the two in any order. ok bye much love

“Five ‘til!” A crew member calls into a walkie-talkie, and you’re so surprised by this information that you stumble right over him, your heel ungracefully ramming into the poor man’s toes.

You apologize hurriedly, bowing yourself out of the awkward situation—and then you check your watch. 7:55 P.M. A quiet "shit" leaves your lips as it dawns on you that you'd completely lost track of time.

Briefly, you contemplate your predicament, drumming the palette of makeup you’re holding in your right hand against the palm of your left: do I have to? Is it really necessary? But you know your answer even as you’re asking yourself the questions. You’re damn meticulous—sometimes to a fault, but always to your own satisfaction.

You had a vision, and you’re going to see it through.

With impeccable timing, your coworker appears out of nowhere, and you fasten a hand around her arm. “Hey, where are the members again?”

“Stage left.” Then she registers your question in full, and snaps her eyes to your face; stylists were supposed to have finished up with their respective members nearly an hour ago. “Hang on, are you out of your mind—”

“I won’t be a minute!” You call, scurrying away.

“You won’t be employed!” She returns, but you’ve already disappeared into the curtains’ dense shadows.

You jog a short distance, turn a few corners, and finally spot the eight members clad in outfits of varying amounts of silver and black, every inch of them so sparkly that they’re reflective, even with how little light reaches this part of the stage.

You’re looking for one man in particular, though, and you single him out right away: long, black locks falling into his eyes as he adjusts his microphone, broad shoulders and tall frame flattered perfectly by an obsidian suit, looking like he fell off a Paris Fashion Week runway and into a wormhole that teleported him to Osaka.

All your doing, by the way.

“Hwang Hyunjin!” You shout, and he (along with several of the other members) whips around at the sound. And Hyunjin furrows a perfect brow when his stylist materializes before him, four minutes to curtain up, wielding a palette of makeup like it’s a baseball bat.

“Are you out of your mind?” He calls.

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” You lift a pointer finger into the air and curl it twice. “Come here. Hurry."

Hyunjin gives the others an apologetic glance before hurrying over, and you are met with a blast of Byredo Blanche when he arrives in front of you, the expression on his face equal parts amused and confused.

“Down,” you say, flicking open the eyeshadow palette with one hand.

And then Hyunjin understands. A loud, uninhibited laugh leaves his lips, a sound you’ve become so accustomed to by now that you’re completely oblivious to the fact that only you bring it out of him.

“You really are something,” he says, spreading his feet apart until he’s brought himself to your eye level.

With that, you get to work, one hand gathering some eyeshadow on the pads of your fingers, the other moving to hold his shoulder. Brushes are luxuries you can’t afford right now.

“Close your eyes,” you direct, your voice softer now that your face is only inches away from his, and Hyunjin heeds your words obediently. You begin to dab the crimson powder against the curve of his lids, careful to avoid messing up the rest of his eye makeup. His lashes flutter involuntarily at your gentle touch.

“A shadow to match the lip,” you murmur absently. “I pictured it and knew it had to happen."

Hyunjin makes a sound of approval, and then there is that smirk on his face, the one you’ve learned only means trouble. “You’ve been thinking about my face the whole night, then?”

“No. I’ve been thinking about whether vegetables can feel pain,” you deadpan. “Yes, I've been thinking about your face. It’s my job.”

“Is that all?”

“Sure is.” You blow gently on his finished eye and move on to the other. “Now save your voice for the stage.”

He obliges, but that dreadful, self-assured expression remains on his face, and you're immeasurably grateful that he can’t see the blush that you’re well aware paints your cheeks.

“Done,” you say a minute later, straightening with a confident flourish. And you think you could squeal when Hyunjin opens his eyes, and you see that the exact effect you’d hoped for has been realized: a splash of maroon that is both subtle and seductive, sleek and suave; that not only accentuates the shape of his eyes but pulls attention to his lips, which are dyed a similar hue. Damn, you’re good at your job.

“I don’t have a mirror,” you say, looking around. “I can use my phone if you want to—”

“It’s fine,” he says. “I trust you.”

You grin at this. “Good. Because you look sexy as hell."

Upon hearing your words, he straightens to his full height. You don’t think much of this at first, too busy re-examining the masterpiece you’ve created on his eyelids, but in the blink of an eye you’re suddenly aware that Hyunjin is standing conspicuously and intentionally close to you. You instinctively move away, but you’re too late; he’s already guiding your back to the wall behind you, his body enclosing yours against the smooth surface.

You send a panicked look over Hyunjin’s shoulder, only to realize that the two of you are completely out of anyone’s line of vision. That doesn’t stop the sharp hiss that leaves your lips: “Hyunjin, are you cr—”

But then there is a familiar gust of breath against your skin, a thumb over your cheekbone.

He knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t help himself when you get like this; all bossy and concentrated, an ambitious glint in your eyes, an air of confidence in your gait. He always thinks it’s ironic that your job is to make him look good when all he’s ever done is admire your beauty, so effortless and profuse that it feels timeless, like freshly bloomed forget-me-nots.

He knows he shouldn’t—but that makes him want to more.

When your lips meet, they move together with an ease and familiarity that reveal how many times you’ve done this before. He brings a hand to the small of your back, and you tangle your stained fingers in his luscious hair, the delicious pressure of his mouth upon yours rendering your reluctance (and the eyeshadow palette, which clatters noisily to the floor) momentarily forgotten.

As the kiss deepens, the bridges of your noses slide together; your every sense becomes overwhelmed by the slippery plush of his full lips and the warm caress of his large hands; you drink in the rosy musk of his cologne like your cells need it to live as opposed to oxygen. The tip of Hyunjin’s tongue teases the seam of your lips, as if requesting access, and you grant it to him with a light moan that is both blissful and thoroughly exasperated. When he hears the gorgeous sound, he has half a mind to scoop you up and leave the venue then and there.

Then, a voice bellows from not too far away: “One minute, everyone! Places, places!”

You’re so startled that you not only break away from him but jump a meter into the air, giving Hyunjin’s bicep a hearty slap on your way down. But he is entirely unbothered, dipping his head to press a trail of light kisses along your jaw instead.

“You’ll be watching the performance, yes?” He murmurs against the sensitive skin.

“Of course, what else—”

“—don’t take your eyes off me.”

And the words throw your heart against your ribs like uncooked French fries in a vat of oil.

He is just about to walk away when you realize how decidedly disheveled you’ve left him, and you yank him back to you with a fresh wave of panic. You wipe at his smudged lipstick with the cuffs of your sleeves; nitpick his hair until every strand is back in its proper place. Only when you’ve gotten rid of all the incriminating evidence do you permit him to leave.

“Thank you very much,” he says, bending into a gracious bow, the perfect image of professionalism. The facade is given away only by the upturned corner of his still-flushed lips.

“Break a leg,” you return drily.

The last thing you hear is that stupid, bright laugh before Hyunjin rejoins his members, and they step into the strobe lights together.

Even when the concert begins and the stadium is drowned in fanatical screams, the heartbeat in your ears remains the loudest sound of all—and you bury your burning face in your hands.

Hwang Hyunjin will be the death of you.

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

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starkwlkr · 1 year

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Hey can I request a Ruby fic where she’s visiting Charles to one of the races and paps have unintentionally scared her so Charles goes into protective father mood. Thank you. I love your ruby universe very much.

mean | charles leclerc

I’m just going to make this take place during the miami gp idk why but i just think since there’s a lot of celebrities and influencers (🙄) going to miami there’s more paparazzi (I THINK IDK IF THAT HAPPENS) so yeah <3

Charles was proud of Ruby’s outfit choice, mainly because he had picked it out himself. Ruby had her hair in two braids, some shorts and Charles had gotten her a Ferrari baseball jersey so they could match all day. Y/n decided to stay behind a bit in the hotel with Mathéo so he could take a nap before they joined them in the paddock.

“Is Jack coming?” Ruby asked her father as they walked into the paddock. She loved playing around the paddock with Jack and always asked if the boy was going to be at the next race.

“I’m not sure. But we can always play together. There’s a big field and I can ask someone for a ball.” Charles explained to the girl. There was not doubt that finding a ball for Ruby to play with was going to be hard to find. They were inside a stadium after all.

Several photographers saw the father and daughter enter so they took out their cameras and started taking pictures of them. Charles didn’t like the idea so he took off his sunglasses and placed them on Ruby’s face even though they were a bit bigger on hers. He then lifted her up into his arms and tried his best to shield her away from the photographers.

“Papa, why are they taking pictures?” Ruby questioned. From under then sunglasses, she saw flasses of light.

“It’s their job, Ruby. I don’t like it either.” He admitted as he continued walking to the Ferrari garage.

“Charles! Charles! A picture with your daughter please!”

Ruby could hear her father’s name being yelled more and more. She didn’t like it. She saw the men with the cameras follow them. To her, it was like the monsters from the fairytales in her books were following her and her papa. She snuggled up to Charles’ neck causing the glasses to fall from her face. In that moment, every photographer tried their best to take pictures of the young girl.

“Papa!” Ruby yelled as she was blinded by the lights. (I promise this is not a musical reference oops)

“Can you back up?! No, don’t take pictures of her!” Charles raised his voice at the men.

Still, they ignored him.

“Hey!” A loud voice was heard from behind the group of men. “Leave them alone. Go bother someone else.”

Charles watched as the photographers backed away once they heard Lewis yell at them. He stayed with Charles and Ruby until the last photographer left. “You okay, man?” Lewis asked Charles.

“Yeah, I wish they could just leave us alone all the time. Y/n hates them.” Charles said. He then pressed a kiss to Ruby’s cheek. “Are you okay, Mon chéri?”

Ruby slowly nodded. Her attention was on her papa’s glasses on the floor. Lewis noticed and grabbed the glasses. “I believe these belong to you, Miss Leclerc.”

“They’re papa’s! They’re big on me!” She laughed when Lewis tried to put them on face.

“You sure? They look much better on you.” Lewis laughed.

“Thank you.” Ruby smiled at the Mercedes driver.

“Thanks Lewis. We have to leave, but I’ll see you later.” Charles nodded at the driver.

“No problem. Bye, Ruby.” Lewis waved goodbye to the girl.

“Bye! Say hi to Roscoe!”

As the day went by, Charles kept Ruby close to him until Y/n arrived. If he wasn’t available to look after Ruby, Pierre and Kika took care of her. Charles wasn’t going to let the photographers ruin Ruby’s day.

Now in the Alpine hospitality, Kika sat next to Ruby coloring on a piece of paper with the girl. Charles and Pierre sat next to each other across from the girls talking about the lack of security. Ruby managed to understand some of the words they were saying.

“They were mean. They yelled at papa.” Ruby added.

“They did?” Pierre asked, gasping a bit.

Ruby nodded. “They are so mean! And loud and scary! What if they yell at mama and Théo?”

“I’m going to make sure mama and Théo don’t get yelled at by the mean scary men. Don’t worry.” Charles assured his daughter.

“Kika, can I tell you something?”The girl said to the woman. She then cupped her hands and whispered some words into Kika’s ear. Both Charles and Pierre watched, wondering what the little girl could’ve told Kika.

Kika then gasped just like Pierre had done. “Really? Then he’s the best papa in the world!”

Ruby nodded and giggled. “He is!”

Kika saw the confused faces on the drivers and asked Ruby if it was okay to share the information she had just told her. Ruby nodded and grabbed her crayon to continue coloring.

“She said that her papa was protecting her from the mean scary men and that he was very brave.” Kika said and watched Charles’ lips turn into a smile.

No matter what, Charles would always protect his little girl from anything. (Even in the future when she would start dating, yeah he would never be ready for that.)

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc one shot #cl16 x reader #ferrari #baby leclerc series #charles leclerc imagine #dad!charles leclerc

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roosterforme · 9 months

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Batting Practice Part 28 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You finally have a wedding dress and a hopeful plan for the future. But when Molly caves and tells you what's been bothering her, you desperately wish she would take your advice.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, swearing, pregnancy, mentions of abortion

Length: 4600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

Work was insanely busy, and the month of August really started to get away from you. It was getting precariously close to September, and you really needed to buy a wedding dress. There wouldn't even be time to get anything altered at this point, and you winced as you thought about what that might mean.

Your weekends and evenings had been consumed with activities. Bradley's baseball games, visits to the park, rainy days scouring the flea market for baseball cards. Honestly, you couldn't remember ever being happier, and you made sure you told Bradley that all the time.

"We don't need to have an actual wedding," you whispered when you couldn't stop yawning, curled up in bed with Bradley. "We can just visit the justice of the peace."

He pushed you onto your back and smothered your entire face in kisses. "No way, Kitten. I'm not doing what Danny did. Besides, I want to have a wedding."

You wrapped your arms and legs around him as he kissed your paw print charm. "I guess I better buy a dress then."

"I don't care if you get married in this," he rasped, tugging on the old shirt you were wearing. "But we're having the wedding."

You rolled your eyes hard. "Since I'm absolutely not wearing this, I guess I'll keep my plans to go dress shopping with Molly in the morning."

"You do that, Kitten. And I'll take Ev and Bob out for breakfast at that place you hate that everyone else likes."

"The place with the sticky floor?" you asked, grimacing.

"I'm pretty sure it's just sticky from maple syrup."

"Keep telling yourself that, Coach. That place is gross."

He snorted and rolled back onto his side with you. "Let's get some sleep. I'm fucking beat. I love you."

You were asleep within minutes. And then as things usually went on the weekends, Everett was in your room, waking both of you up, complaining he was hungry first thing in the morning.

Bradley groaned and pulled him up into bed. "If you go back to sleep for another hour, I'll take you out for chocolate chip waffles, okay?"

"Yay! I love that place!" Everett cheered before quieting down and snuggling into the pillows next to Bradley. You kissed his forehead and then Bradley's and then slipped out of bed to take a shower. They could do their own thing for breakfast, but you and Molly would be having a mimosa lunch after you bought some dresses. And nobody was going to tell you no.

You ended up leaving for the dress boutique the same time Bradley and Ev left for breakfast, but when you got to the shop, Molly wasn't there yet. "Typical," you muttered, texting her to let her know you'd meet her inside.

After fifteen minutes, you felt completely overwhelmed. There were so many options, and you just wanted something simple. All of the fabric was starting to feel the same under your fingertips, and nothing looked quite right. Honestly, Molly was so much better at this stuff than you were. Maybe she forgot about the plan? You started to panic without her here. Perhaps you could see if Nat was free.

Just as you turned, ready to dash back out to your car, Molly walked in. "There you are," you sighed in relief, but then you gasped. "What's wrong? You look terrible."

"Nothing," she muttered. But her skin looked dull, and she was wearing an outfit you would have never imagined she'd leave the house in. Was she wearing one of Bob's undershirts? She was barely meeting your eyes now. "Did you pick one out yet?" Even her voice sounded lifeless. She was usually so expressive.

"No," you said carefully. "I was waiting for you. I can't do this kind of thing without your help."

"Okay," she replied as she started to grab a few dresses off the racks and handed them to you.

You took them all in your arms and said, "Molly, just tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong," she snapped. "Try those on. I'll be in one of the chairs."

Unsure about what to do, you just did as you were told. But something was wrong, and you thought about texting Bradley or Bob from inside the dressing room. But you didn't want to upset her further. So you pulled on the first dress she had given you, and you were shocked. It was beautiful, it fit you well, and it wasn't too fancy for the wedding location.

"Molly, you're a genius," you said as you opened the door.

She just nodded at you from her seat with a small smile. "You look very pretty. Try on another one."

"Okay," you told her, watching as she rubbed her hands over her face. She looked like she was about to cry. You quickly changed into a second dress which was also pretty great, and you walked out a second time to find that she actually was crying now.

"Molly, please," you begged, bending down to try to wipe her tears away, but she just shook her head and quickly stood up, avoiding your reach. "Talk to me." You followed her across the store, down a row of dresses, and you could hear her sobbing as she rushed away from you.

Once she reached the back corner, she had nowhere else to go. When she turned to face you, she looked like she was in agony. Tears were dripping down her face and she shook her head. "I fucked up," she sobbed miserably. "I fucked up so bad."

"Molly," you gasped, reaching for her. This time she tripped forward into your arms, and you held her against the fabric of the wedding dress you were wearing. "It's okay to talk to me about it." You rubbed her back as thought after horrible thought popped up in your mind. Was it something to do with Bob? With work? You'd never, ever seen her this upset before.

But now she couldn't even talk. She was just crying and shaking in your arms. You kissed the top of her head and held her, glaring at anyone who tried to come back this far in the aisle until they turned back. And eventually, she pulled away from you a few inches, and she let you wipe some of her tears away.

You didn't push her to say anything. You knew better than that. You just held her face in your hands and waited.

She took a deep, ragged breath and let it out slowly. Her voice was a soft, trembling whisper as she said, "I'm pregnant."

Your lips parted wordlessly before you closed them again. She was obviously very upset about this fact, so you weren't sure what to say. But you eventually settled on, "What did Bob say when you told him? He's upset?" You couldn't actually imagine Bob being upset with Molly about anything, but you supposed it was possible.

She shook her head in a jerky motion. She sounded so small as she said, "I haven't told him."

"Molly," you sighed, pulling her in for another tight hug. "How long have you known?"

"About a week," she gasped, pressing her tear streaked face to your neck. She'd kept this inside for a week. You were honestly shocked. "I suspected it for a little while at least. I didn't think it was actually possible at first." She was hiccupping between words. "I just thought my cycle was off. But then I took a test the other day. And then I took a lot more tests."

There were so many questions you wanted to ask. How far along was she? When was she going to tell Bob? "Molly, were you using birth control?"

"Of course!" she keened. "I'm not stupid! I work in healthcare!"

"I know, I know," you soothed, rubbing her back. "I was just checking." After you got pregnant with Everett, you'd made her promise to be safe.

"But I switched from one pill to a different one," she whispered. "I did everything I was supposed to fucking do! How could I have let this happen?"

"Shh," you whispered. She was sobbing again. "Does Bob not want to have kids with you?"

She pulled away from you and threw her hands up in the air. "How the hell am I supposed to even know that?!" she asked, loud and sarcastic. "I've only known him for like four months! We have never, not even once, never talked about having kids together! I know he likes them. He loves Ev and Piper, but that's different."

You nodded, reaching for her hands and stroking her knuckles with your thumbs. "Molly, you have to tell him."

"No," she said vehemently. "No way. I'm so mad at myself. I don't want him to look at me differently now. I told him I was on birth control. I promised him there was nothing to worry about." Silent tears were streaming down her cheeks, almost like they were never going to stop. "I can't tell him. But he knows something's wrong. He thinks I'm going to leave him, and honestly, maybe I should."

"Don't say that," you whispered. "Don't say that about Bob."

"Exactly!" she said, pointing at you in anger. "That's exactly it! You don't even worry about me anymore, because I'm with Bob! I finally got my shit together. I'm finally dating a good guy. A stable one who actually loves me! He loves me! Or he did. I can't believe I fucked this up. It was perfect!"

She sank to the floor at your feet and cried, burying her face in what you were now certain was Bob's undershirt. You tried to sit down next to her, but you had to fold the dress a little awkwardly. And then a sales clerk came over.

"Excuse me, but you can't just crawl around the floor in one of our dresses. And you shouldn't be crying near them either."

You took a deep breath to reply, but Molly was already saying, "Fuck off, lady. Your goddamn dress will be just fine, okay?"

As the woman bustled away, looking completely scandalized, you turned back to your sister. Her gaze looked steely now as she licked her lips. Her voice was calmer as she said, "I'm not going to tell him. I'm going to pretend to go away for a couple days, get an abortion, and then never mention any of this again."

"Molly." You were shaking your head. "You can't. That's not fair to Bob. You need to tell him about this."

"So I can end up like you?" she said, and her words struck you mute. "No, I know, and I'm sorry, but there's not always going to be a Bradley waiting at the end of the tunnel, okay? You got lucky. Everett is the perfect kid. And somehow you upgraded from Danny to something much better. But I'll never get this lucky again. I'll never, ever find something better than Bob. And I don't even know if I can be a mom. Because I've seen you do it, and it's actually fucking impossible, okay?" She was crying and laying on the floor, inhaling the scent of the undershirt. "It's either leave Bob or get an abortion and never tell him. And I know I can't bring myself to leave him."

----------------------

Bradley was sopping up a plate full of syrup with a pancake when Bob finally caved. "Molly's seems unhappy."

"What makes you say that?" Bradley asked cautiously, glancing at Everett playing a game on his phone. He thought back to that night at the Hard Deck a few weeks ago when everyone had been in a great mood. Molly and Bob had sex in the bathroom. He'd heard Molly tell Bob she loved him.

"She's been acting strange for the past few weeks. I can't get her to talk to me." Bob's face looked helpless as he said, "I just want to make her happy, but I don't think I actually know how. She's gotta be planning to move out."

"No," Bradley said. Truly, this didn't make sense to him. "It has to be something else? Work?"

Bob just shrugged. "I wish I knew." He looked like he was in pain as he reached for his wallet, but Bradley handed his credit card to the waiter.

"It's my turn," he insisted. "I think you should head home and talk to Molly now. I bet they're done shopping and getting margaritas or whatever they're doing."

"Mimosas," Bob whispered. "Molly likes mimosas."

"Right," Bradley agreed. "Let's just skip the batting cages, and you can get home and talk to her since I'm sure they must be done with mimosas."

Bob just nodded and barely managed to say goodbye as he walked back to his truck.

"What's wrong with Uncle Bob?" Everett asked on the way home. Bradley winced.

"Not sure, kiddo. But I bet he'll sort it out soon."

Bradley was actually a little surprised that you were home when he and Everett got there. "Did you pick a dress?" he asked, wrapping you up in a hug.

"Yeah," you mumbled, frowning up at him, and Bradley wondered if this had to do with Molly.

He kissed your forehead and said, "Hey, Ev. Remember our plans for the Phillies room upstairs?"

"Yeah!"

"Why don't you get the measuring tape out of the closet and start measuring the room. I'll be up in a minute."

Bradley watched him dash up the stairs with a smile on his face, and then he turned back to you. "What's wrong with Molly?"

You pressed your lips together and whispered, "She's pregnant."

"Oh," he grunted. "Bob seems to be under the impression that she's going to leave him."

"I mean..." you said with a shrug.

"She wouldn't leave him. He's perfect for her. Oh fuck... she didn't tell him yet!"

You shook your head and looked like you were going to cry. "She's so upset, Bradley. It was unplanned. She thinks she destroyed her relationship, and she doesn't intend to tell him at all."

"She has to," he said, shaking his head. "They'll be fine. Bob loves kids." He paused before asking, "Were they using birth control? Yours seems pretty sturdy, maybe she should have been on that one."

"Bradley," you said, rolling your eyes as he rubbed your tummy. "I told her to tell Bob, but I don't know that she will."

"Fuck," he whispered. "What do we do?"

"Just wait," you responded softly. "She said she'd never get as lucky as me. She said she'd never find someone else as good as Bob later. She said she doesn't think she can be a mom. And I think I fucked that up for her, because she saw me do it all by myself for so long." Now you were crying, and Everett was shouting for him. "Just go up with Ev. I'll be on the deck."

You pushed him away and went to sit outside while you cried, and Bradley didn't know what else to do, so he just went upstairs.

----------------------

You ended up buying the wedding dress that you were wearing when you sat on the floor of the bridal shop. The sales team was so obnoxious, and you were honestly afraid Molly was going to scream at them, so you just bought it and left. Good thing you liked it, because it was yours now. You were looking in the mirror in your bedroom, trying to zip it up when Molly called.

"You okay?" you asked when you answered the phone.

"Yeah," she replied. It had been a few days since the dress shopping fiasco, and you'd been checking on her constantly. She hadn't told you much. You weren't even sure if she'd had a conversation with Bob. Frankly, you weren't sure about the status of her pregnancy.

"You wanna come over?" you asked her. "I have ice cream hidden in the freezer."

She laughed. "You always have ice cream hidden in the freezer. But I can't. Bob and I are going out for dinner, and I have to work at six tomorrow morning."

A dinner date with her boyfriend? That sounded promising. You kept your voice upbeat. "Where are you going for dinner?"

"I wanted sushi, of course, but we're going out for Italian instead."

"And Bob's okay?" you asked. You kind of missed the days of tee ball practices and games when you'd see him more often. Of course you could just call him, but you wanted to hear it from Molly.

Her response was soft, and she still didn't quite sound like her usual self, but it was a far cry better than seeing her on the floor in the bridal shop. "Yeah. I actually just wanted to ask you if it's okay if I wear a plain navy blue dress for your wedding. I can text you a picture of it."

Your heart started beating faster. Your wedding was close, and your sister seemed at least marginally interested in it. "Molly, you can wear anything you want. You don't need to send me a picture."

But the message already came through. It was a cute, form fitting dress with little cap sleeves. "It's perfect! Get it! You'll look adorable."

"It's just that it's stretchy, and I'm already feeling bloated, so I want to get something that I know will be okay."

Your eyes went wide as you looked in the mirror. "That's great, Molly. You'll look perfect no matter what. And Bob can wear anything."

She chuckled. "I think he's planning on matching Bradley and Ev, but I'm not supposed to tell you that."

You felt a little better as you ended the call.

"Kitten?" Bradley shouted as he walked up the stairs.

"Shit," you muttered, trying to unzip your dress. "Don't come in here!" you yelled.

"What's wrong?" he asked as you practically slammed the bedroom door in his face.

"I'm wearing my wedding dress!" You tried to jiggle the zipper, but it wasn't budging. You took a deep breath and held it, holding it in, but that didn't help either. "The zipper is stuck!"

"Open the door. I'll keep my eyes closed."

You let him in, and he stumbled toward you until you took his hand and placed it on the zipper at the side of your dress. He eased it down slowly and without issue, never even cracking an eye open. "This is not how I imagined you taking this dress off of me," you whispered before kissing his cheek.

He smiled softly, but he said, "Once I'm able to look at you, we need to talk."

"About what?" you asked slowly, realizing he looked a little frustrated in spite of his closed eyes. "The Phillies room? I said you two can do whatever you want in there."

You could actually hear Everett sorting through Bradley's tubs of baseball cards right now. "No, not about the Phillies room. Meet me downstairs."

Then he was gone, and your dress was hanging awkwardly off your body. You changed and headed downstairs to find Bradley sitting on the couch with his legs splayed wide and his hands on his thighs.

"What's up?" you asked him, slowly making your way through the living room. His face was nearly expressionless, but you could still tell he was upset.

Bradley cocked his head to the side. "Is Danny giving you a hard time?"

You just shrugged. "What makes you ask that?"

"I saw that huge packet of information from your lawyer on the kitchen counter. You need to talk to me about this." His voice was harsh, like you'd never heard it before. "Be honest with me, Kitten. If we're getting married, if Ev is going to be my stepson," he said, gesturing upstairs with his hand, "then you need to let me know what's going on here!"

"I'm sorry," you whispered. "He's not... giving me a hard time. Well, I guess he kind of is." You sighed and sank down onto the couch. "He's been served with papers. He has a few months to comply, so I just know he's going to take as much time as he can before paying me a cent of child support. And the worst part is, I'll have to wait until Ev is a legal adult before I can have his birth certificate amended."

Bradley looked pensive, scratching the corner of his mustache with narrowed eyes. "I'm sorry, Kitten. I wish there was something more I can do. You already asked your lawyer if there's anything I can do after we get married?"

You didn't want to keep the truth from him any longer, but you just simply said, "I'll let you know, Coach. We'll figure it out." Really, you weren't sure if you would better benefit from having Danny out of your lives completely or getting child support from him.

When Bradley tugged on your arm and stretched out on the couch, you started to smile. "Come here," he whispered, gently pulling you on top of him. "You know you don't deserve all the runaround, right?" He kissed you and wrapped his hands around around your waist, letting his palms rest on your lower back. "And Ev doesn't deserve anything Danny does."

"I know," you replied, pushing your hands up through his hair. "But we're making out pretty well these days. Got ourselves an upgrade." Your lips met his neck in a soft kiss that had him tightening his grip on you.

He glanced toward the stairs. "Kitten," he whispered, his tone a warning that made you feel warm all over. When he met your eyes he was shaking his head. "I wanna take you to bed, but I need to get to practice."

"Mmm," you hummed, letting your eyes drift closed as he kissed you. "Later then. When you're all sweaty and hot."

"You're killing me," he grunted, standing with you in his arms, pressed against his body. He kissed your forehead and said, "I'll go see what Ev is up to before I head to practice. Bob told me he's skipping it tonight. Not sure what that's all about."

"He's taking Molly out to dinner."

"That's.... good?" he said, but it sounded more like a question.

"I hope so," you whispered. It felt strange to know that your sister wasn't going to be coming to you immediately with all of her problems now. Because it sounded like a decision had been made. You just hoped that Bob could handle her and all of her glorious personality.

"I'll check on Ev and then get going. I told him he can organize my baseball cards however he wants. But between you and me, I hid most of the really valuable ones under our bed."

"Good call," you told him with a laugh.

Once he had gone to practice, you went upstairs to work on the boys' Phillies room with your son. While you had nixed painting the entire room red for fear of it looking like a bloody crime scene, you did let them hang up some baseball decals. Everett had apparently hung up some more Phillies posters without help, because they were very crooked, but the room was actually coming together.

"Mom! Look!" he said, holding up a red and white pennant that said BRADLEY and looked like it was from the '80s. "Can you help me hang this up? I don't think Dad even knew it was in here with his baseball cards!"

Your breath caught like it always did when he called Bradley his dad, and it took you a minute to pull yourself together. "Yeah," you replied with a nod. "I'll help you. Let's put it up next to the door."

"And maybe I can make one with both our names out of poster board. I'm getting pretty good at making signs and stuff."

"You really are, Ev," you told him as he taped the pennant into place.

"Do you think we can all dress as baseball players for Halloween this year? Are you getting married before or after Halloween? I keep forgetting. Do you think Aunt Molly would dress as the Phanatic? I think she'd probably be better at it than you. No offense. But we could go trick or treating with them, because then there would be more people to help hold all the candy I get. Dad will dress as a baseball player and hold my candy if I ask him to. I'm pretty sure."

"Oh, Ev," you said, hugging him as tears filled your eyes. "We can do whatever you want, okay?"

He let you hug him for a few seconds before he wiggled his way free and asked, "Why are you crying? You haven't been crying as much."

It was because you didn't want to have to think about Danny. You didn't want him to try to pull some stunt in a few years or withhold child support and make you chase him down. He was the type who would make you waste a bunch of time and money just because he could. He would make your life miserable now because he always blamed you for ruining his life with Everett.

"I'm sorry," you gasped. "I'm sorry I'm crying." You pulled him in closer again. You knew. You were sure. You would better benefit from having Danny out of your lives completely. And Bradley was the easiest way to get this weight off your chest, because whenever you thought about Danny, it made your body ache. You wanted to be able to stop thinking about him. About the way he had hurt Everett. About the way the law had been designed in such a way that guaranteed he'd be able to continue to hurt Everett in the future.

"Did I make you sad?" Everett asked softly. "We can be magicians or pirates for Halloween instead if you want."

"Oh my god, Ev," you gasped. "No, you didn't make me sad. I love you." You knelt down on the floor in front of him and kissed his cheeks. "I was just thinking about your biological dad, Danny."

Everett's expression turned to one of fear as he said, "I don't want to see him."

"You won't," you promised, pushing his hair back and kissing his forehead. All the child support in the world wouldn't matter. You didn't need it. Your son was absolutely terrified of Danny, and some money wasn't going to make up for that.

Everett seemed to accept your answer as he nodded, but he still looked concerned. "We don't even need him now."

"We never did," you agreed with a small smile. You had overheard Bradley tell Bob back in June that he would like to adopt Everett. Maybe you should just go ahead and ask him to. Maybe you should just tell him the truth: he could help remove Danny from your lives one hundred percent. "Ev, do you know what it would mean if Bradley adopted you?"

He nodded, his brow creased in slight confusion. "I think so."

"Let's talk about it, so we know it makes sense. And you can tell me if it sounds like something you might want. And then we can talk to Bradley about it. But it'll be our little secret for now."

-----------------------------

I hope Molly and Bob have come to a decision they are both comfortable with. More of that will be posted in The Curveball. Next up for Coach and Kitten....the wedding! Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32

PART 29

Don't forget to check out Bob and Molly in The Curveball!

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sunshinesteviee · 1 year

Text

call it what you want - s.h.

summary: you find yourself on the edge of friendship and something more with steve at a halloween party. for @sparklingsin's spookinktober writing challenge with the prompt "quick, switch costumes with me!" wc: 8.1k wtf warnings: friends to lovers. alcohol consumption. smut!!! 18+!!! f!reader. a/n: this is the longest thing i've ever written and it killed me lol i hope y'all like it. feedback is much appreciated! love u sm. also huge shoutout to @sparklingsin and @familyvideostevie for reading this and helping me out and listening to me complain about this gd fic for weeks i love u so much thanks for putting up w me

Masterlist

Parties weren’t Steve’s thing. Not anymore, anyway. And Halloween parties in particular were definitely crossed off the list, especially after everything that had happened with Nancy a few years ago. He was over Nancy, they were even friends now, but something about the idea of going to another Halloween party stirred up a sick feeling in Steve’s stomach that he wanted to run from. Somehow, though, Robin had managed to convince him that it would be fun.

Really, it hadn’t taken much convincing on Robin’s part — all she had to do was mention you, and Steve was in, though he’d never admit that to her. It was stupid, she thought, the way the two of you were constantly pining for each other, but refusing to do anything about it. She’d heard enough lovesick complaints from her best friends, and decided she’d take it into her own hands. And Halloween seemed like the perfect opportunity. She wasn’t quite sure how yet, but she was sure the night would end at the very least with confessions. She’d make sure of it.

And so, Steve was two drinks deep in a crowded house, filled with more regret than beer. Robin had somehow disappeared after one drink, Eddie was nowhere in sight, and he still had yet to see you. Maybe you’d decided not to come. If so, the whole night would be a waste. He hadn’t missed parties one bit. The stuffy, crowded rooms filled with sweaty bodies pressed against each other as music pounded in his ears, pulsing lights making his head throb.

It didn’t used to be so bad. He used to be the keg king, down shot after shot, maybe get lucky, and still wake up the next day more or less fine. Now, two drinks usually did him in, and he didn’t always like the feeling of being drunk. Of being out of control. To be fair, he’d taken quite a few beatings that had definitely fucked with his head since he’d last been to a proper party. But parties just weren’t enjoyable anymore. Especially when all of his friends had disappeared, and he didn’t know anyone surrounding him.

Tipping the last of his drink into his mouth, Steve crushed the red plastic cup in his hand and tossed it into the trash can nearby that was already almost overflowing. A familiar laugh sounded behind him, a sweet sound above the loud bass, “Whoa there, champ. How many drinks have you had?!”

Steve already had a smile on his face as he turned around, and his jaw nearly hit the floor at the sight of you. You hadn’t ditched. And better yet, you looked fucking gorgeous. He let out an adoring laugh, eyebrows furrowing together, forehead wrinkling as he asked, “Champ?”

“Your costume, silly,” you nodded towards his outfit as you reached out, placing your warm palm against his bicep. Without thinking, Steve leaned into your touch, stepping in closer to you, his hand grazing your hip slightly.

Since it had been a last-minute decision, and since he wasn’t fond of Halloween anyways, Steve had decided to pull his baseball uniform from high school out of his closet. It fit a little tighter than it used to, but would work well enough for one night. The ugly green and orange baseball jersey was tucked into a pair of baseball pants, and he’d even tucked his wild hair underneath a Hawkins high baseball hat. Steve’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, the soft pink obvious on his pale skin, even in the dim lighting of the house. “Oh, right. Yeah, I think I kinda… knocked it out of the park with this one.”

The snort that left your mouth had Steve smiling again as you clapped a hand over your mouth, “Oh my god. That was fucking awful, Steve. It does look good, though. Can’t believe you’d ruin all of your pretty hair under that hat.”

Steve flushed again, a common occurrence that he couldn’t help when he was around you, and shrugged, “What can I say? I’m dedicated to the costume. I like your costume, too, by the way; you look nice.”

Your eyes lit up at his compliment as you bounced on the balls of your feet nervously, “Yeah? Thanks, Stevie.” You were wearing a short shirt that had “Camp Crystal Lake” printed across the chest, with a picture of a lake underneath it, and a pair of red shorts that were also nearly too short; you were a counselor from one of your favorite horror movies, Friday the 13th. Quite frankly, the costume fit you perfectly, accentuating all of your best features, and you weren’t oblivious to the way his eyes had caught on you when he’d first turned around.

“Yeah! That’s a great movie.”

“I thought you didn’t like horror movies?” you questioned, a teasing tone lacing your words. You and Eddie had had to convince him more than once to watch a horror movie on one of your movie nights, and he usually hid underneath a blanket for more than half the movie.

“Well, no,” Steve huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he narrowed his eyes at you, “But I’ve seen that one, and it wasn’t bad. Do you want a drink?"

When you quickly agreed, Steve’s hand left your back as he pulled back from you. Before you could mourn the warmth of his hand on your skin, though, his hand was reaching toward yours. “C’mon then, babe.”

Without a second thought, your hand slipped into his, fingers slotting together easily. Steve started pulling you through the crowd, weaving between bodies skillfully. The grip he had on your hand, though gentle, was firm, as if you’d be lost forever if he let go. As if the crowds of people would swallow you whole and carry you away from him. He glanced back a few times to make sure you were alright, flashing you a small smile every single time his eyes caught yours.

The alcohol was finally starting to hit Steve, making him feel a bit lighter, though maybe it was just from being near you. Your hand in his was enough to make him feel tipsy. To have him questioning if it was real. He definitely didn’t need to have another drink, not if you were going to be holding his hand like your life depended on it. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, to be close to you, but the alcohol had his senses dialed up. Steve knew that if he wasn’t careful, he might let his real feelings for you slip, and he didn’t want to risk the friendship you had.

Steve shook his head in an attempt to clear it, though the alcohol was making it a bit difficult, and refocused back on you. He gave you a lopsided smile, working to untangle his fingers from yours, “Whaddya want, cutie? Punch? I had two cups and it’s kinda strong because I’m definitely starting to feel it, and—”

“I’ll have punch!” You’d listen to him ramble for hours, but the kitchen was even more packed than the room you’d just been in. You didn’t see Steve drunk, or even tipsy, often, and you adored the way his face flushed red and he started rambling. He’d clearly had just enough to have him feeling good, not enough to tip him over the edge, and it was endearing the way he seemed to let go a little bit.

Not wanting to be away from your side for too long, Steve hurried across the kitchen to get a cup and fill it with punch for you. He pushed by a few people on his way back, trying to be gentler than the asshole who had pushed you, and frowned as some of the drink spilled over the edge of the cup and ran down his fingers. The pout was still on his lips as he approached you, holding the cup out, “Sorry, didn’t mean to spill it. Here you go, babe.”

Taking the cup from him carefully, you smiled gratefully, glad that you hadn’t been the one to cross the kitchen, “Thanks, Stevie. You didn’t get one for yourself?”

“Nah, if I have more I’ll be suffering tomorrow,” he replied. As he talked, Steve lifted his hand that was now covered in the sticky punch, and slipped one of his fingers into his mouth to clean it off. Heat rushed to your cheeks and you stared in disbelief as Steve did it again with another finger. This time, he caught the look on your face and his own eyes went wide as he stared at you in confusion, completely oblivious, “What?”

You nearly choked on your drink, and you quickly shook your head, turning away from Steve so he wouldn’t see the reaction you were having. There was no doubt you were attracted to Steve — how could you not be? He was kind and funny and brave, and treated you better than anyone else ever had. The problem was, he wasn’t your boyfriend, and you were fairly certain he had no intention of that. He was a nice guy to everyone. Just because he called you babe or cutie from time to time, and held your hand or shared blankets with you… that didn’t mean he was interested, and you’d done your best to shove those feelings down. You didn’t want to lose Steve’s friendship above all else, so if you had to pretend your feelings for him were strictly platonic, you could do that. But watching him lick his fingers clean sparked something in your stomach, and made your face feel hot. To be fair, you had already downed a shot with Nancy while the two of you were getting ready, so maybe you could just blame the way your thighs clenched on the alcohol.

Instead of responding, you downed half the cup of punch just in time for Steve to look back at you, a grin breaking out on his face as he chanted teasingly, “Chug, chug, chug!”

You nearly choked again, this time as you laughed, sputtering some of the red liquid out of your mouth, “Steve!” You wiped the back of your hand across your mouth to catch the drops sliding down your chin with a giggle, “Stop itttt.”

“Hey!” Steve’s pout matched yours, eyes narrowing at you, bottom lip pushing out, “How come you can tease me when I’m drinking but I can’t tease you?”

Your eyes may have lingered too long on Steve’s lips as he pouted, but he didn’t notice with the way he was unabashedly returning the favor as your tongue darted out to catch the last of the punch that had spilled past your lips. You wondered what his lips would feel like against yours. If they were as soft as they looked. If he was as good a kisser as the girls from high school claimed. You shook your head, desperately trying to focus so you could answer Steve’s question instead of gawk at him, “No, it’s not allowed.”

Steve laughed hysterically as his arms wrapped over your shoulders so he could pull you into him. He got even more affectionate than normal when he’d had some alcohol. Pressing his lips to your hair, he shook his head, but was totally sincere as he replied, “Okay, fine! I’ll never make fun of you again, cutie. Promise. Should we find Robin? Or maybe Nancy and Jonathan?”

His words had you feeling like you were on fire once more, but you quickly agreed, needing to find someone else to get your mind off of Steve. To think of something other than SteveSteveSteveSteve. Your cheek pressed into the rough fabric of the jersey he was wearing, and you nodded against his chest, “Yeah, let’s go find them.”

“Wait,” he paused, fingers wrapping around your arm as you tried to pull away from his grasp, “you still have…” His sentence trailed off as he licked the pad of his thumb before placing his free hand against your cheek, fingers slipping into the hair just behind your ear. His thumb pressed to your chin, rubbing across your skin carefully in an attempt to get rid of the last of the punch that you’d spilled. Steve’s hand slid down, fingers hooking underneath your chin as his thumb dragged down, pulling on your bottom lip slightly, and you thought for a moment that he was going to kiss you then and there, his eyes flashing with something you hadn’t seen in them before. But as quickly as it came, it disappeared, and Steve was back to his tipsy, bubbly self, “Got it!”

You felt absolutely breathless, frozen in place as Steve pulled away searching the crowd for anyone he recognized. “You coming or what, babe?”

“I, uh–” you shook your head to clear it and moved towards Steve, “Yeah, ‘m coming.”

Finding Robin seemed to be a lost cause, but Nancy and Jonathan had been easy to find, talking to some of Nancy’s friends from high school, drinks in hand. And after talking for a bit, it didn’t take much to pull your friends away to dance with you. You immediately grabbed Steve, feeling bolder than you normally would be, and pulled him into you, chest to chest.

Steve’s heart thudded in his chest as his hands grabbed at your hips at the same time, fingers pressing lightly into the soft skin there as you swayed to the music. Had he been sober and more aware of what he was really doing, he probably would’ve been much more flustered with the way you were pressed up against him. And, had he been sober, he would’ve seen the look Nancy and Jonathan were exchanging knowingly, with Nancy in on Robin’s plan.

–

Robin found you a bit later, the sound of your name being called over the music was enough to get your attention, and you quickly stopped dancing next to Nancy to search the crowd of people surrounding you. It wasn’t hard to find Robin, who was already pretty tall and was wearing heels for her costume. You grinned at her, throwing your arms out to her for a hug as you shrieked her name, “Robin!”

“Hey, hot stuff!” she replied, wrapping you up in her arms, careful of the drink in her hand, “Where have you beeeen? I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”

You scoffed, “Stevie and I have been dancing. Thought maybe you weren’t here,” you said, pushing your bottom lip out into a pout.

“I am! I have been the whole time!” she laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world, “I’m glad I found you! We’re gonna play a game!” She paused and turned to point at Steve who had been watching the two of you, “You too, dingus! You’re gonna play, too.”

“What? No, Robin, I don’t—”

“Please, Stevie?” you asked, cutting him off with wide, pleading eyes, even though you had no idea what the game actually was, or who you’d be playing with.

The alcohol Steve had consumed was now starting to wear off, while it seemed like it was in full swing for you. Had Robin shown up half an hour ago while he was still feeling tipsy, and was actually dancing with you, he would’ve agreed no problem. Now, as he started to think a bit more clearly, he knew that Robin’s drunk ideas usually weren’t her best, and at the very least, he’d make sure you all didn’t get into too much trouble. And, as always, he couldn’t say no to the look you were giving him. “Okay, okay, fine! I’ll play.”

Reaching out to close the distance between the two of you, your fingers curled around Steve’s bicep to pull him closer. You were giving him the brightest smile he’d ever seen as you leaned into his side, “Yay! C’mon, Harrington.”

The smile that pulled at Steve’s lips was involuntary as your hand pushed down his arm and into his own hand, tugging him behind you as you followed Robin through the house, back to the other side where she’d been beforehand with a few other friends. They weren’t really people you knew – mostly Robin’s friends from band, and Eddie and a few of his friends – but you weren’t going to let that stop you from having fun.

“Okay!” Robin clapped her hands, drawing the attention of the small group, “Everyone stand up, get in a circle. We’re playing a new game!”

“What game is it?” Eddie grumbled, ever the contrarian, though he was getting to his feet to do as Robin said.

Steve had also reluctantly joined the circle, standing at one of Robin’s sides, arms crossed over his chest as he waited impatiently for her to explain what was going on. You couldn’t help but giggle at his sullen expression as you glanced at him from the other side of your friend standing between the two of you. Your laugh caught his attention, and he cracked a smile as he glanced over Robin to look at you, eyebrows furrowing together as if he was asking “What’s so funny?”

You shook your head, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth with a smile as you quickly glanced away, trying to focus on what Robin was saying. Only after you’d listen to half of the “rules” did you realize that this was some kind of speed costume changing game, and you groaned, feeling a bit too tipsy for trying to change quickly. Not only that, but this felt like a game that some boy in high school had come up with in hopes to see the girl he liked half naked.

“On the count of three, find someone that you want to change costumes with, and then we’ll time everyone! One… two… three!”

You’d been counting on switching with Robin, considering she was right next to you, and you could probably get into at least some of her clothes. Steve had a similar idea – who else was he going to switch with when he’d already shared clothes with her before? – and turned in her direction. Robin, on the other hand, had a different idea, pointing aggressively at Nancy who was across the circle from her, “Nance! You’re my partner!” She quickly stepped out from between you and Steve and darted over to Nancy without letting her respond.

At the same time, both you and Steve groaned in frustration, “Robin!” She all but cackled, an evil grin on her face that you knew meant this had been her plan all along. You’d told her about your feelings for Steve, but you never expected her to use that information against you.

Still, you turned to Steve with a grin, hooking your arm through his to pull him closer to you, “Guess you’re my partner, Harrington! No backing out now!”

As soon as he realized that partners were being shoved in one of the closets one at a time to change as fast as possible, Steve wished desperately that he could back out. His face burned at just the thought of being in a confined space with you while you took off your clothes. He didn’t have long to think about it, though, as after two other pairs were timed, Robin quickly pushed the two of you in, closing the door behind you and plunging you into complete darkness, except for the small sliver from under the door.

You and Steve weren’t strangers to being close to one another, but this felt like a new level of intimacy, and Steve didn’t know what to do. His heart was pounding in his ears, so loud he was worried you’d be able to hear it, too, considering how close you were. It didn’t seem to affect you as much, though maybe that was just the alcohol, and you giggled with an urgent whisper, “Quick! Switch costumes with me, Steve! I don’t wanna lose!” With that, you pulled your shirt over your head, nearly elbowing Steve in the face with how fast you were moving. Steve immediately averted his eyes to the dark ceiling, wanting to be a gentleman, though he’d be lying if he said he’d never thought about you shirtless.

Frustrated with how slow he was moving, you gave his shoulder a weak push, “C’mon, Stevie!”

Steve huffed, amused with how badly you wanted to win, even though he knew it wasn’t going to happen, “Okay, I’m going!” He started unbuttoning the baseball jersey as fast as he could as you started to shove your shorts down your legs, and suddenly his buttons became a lot more interesting, fingers fumbling with the small pieces of plastic. The closet felt scorching hot as he shrugged off the jersey and quickly pulled the plain white tee he was wearing underneath off as well, shoving it in your direction. “Jesus, babe. Here.”

The shirt you’d been wearing had been quickly dropped to the floor as you pulled Steve’s shirt over your head, immediately engulfed in his scent. He always smelled nice, and this shirt was no exception. As much as you wanted to hug yourself and breathe in Steve’s comforting scent, you also wanted to win, and slipped the jersey on, motioning for Steve to take his pants off next. Your voice was frantic when you spoke again, “Pants! Give ‘em to me!”

The giggling from his friends outside the door was distracting to Steve as he thought of ways he could get back at Robin for this. It was torture, really, being shoved into a small space with the girl he liked while they undressed, but in a situation where he couldn’t touch her without seeming like a perv. He was only snapped out of his thoughts when your hands reached out towards his waist, going for the button on his pants. There was no way he could let that happen, and pushed your hands away, all but shouting, “I got it!”

He quickly shimmied out of his pants and traded them with you for the tiny shorts you’d been wearing. Groaning internally, Steve pulled them up his legs and knew immediately that he looked ridiculous. They barely fit over his thighs, and his ass was nearly hanging out. It was bordering on completely inappropriate to be wearing in public; he might as well just be wearing his boxers with how little it left to the imagination. “These do not fit.”

Just then, you stumbled forward as you tried to get Steve’s baseball pants on, hand catching on his chest for the second time that evening. His hand shot out as if on instinct, grasping at the bare skin of your hip to steady you, even though there wasn’t really any place for you to go. You were giggling like a maniac, breathless as you murmured a thanks and pulled the pants up all the way. It was only as you buttoned the pants that you realized your shirt had dropped on the ground, and you grabbed it, shoving it into his hands, failing at your horrible attempt to avoid looking at his bare chest, “Last one!”

Steve stared at the fabric in his hands skeptically; the shirt was already short on you, there was no way this wasn’t going to be the most extreme crop top anyone had ever seen on him, “I don’t wanna rip it!”

“You won’t!” you reassured him, “‘s okay if you do, anyway. ‘M never gonna wear it again.”

Letting out what was possibly the most dramatic sigh you’d ever heard, Steve pulled your shirt over his head. The fabric stretched around his arms and chest, the hem falling just below his pecs. His entire stomach was exposed, and while it wasn’t exactly what he’d prepared for that night, the smile on your face in the dark made it worth it.

As your hand reached for the doorknob, Steve realized you were missing one last piece of his costume, “Wait! Can't forget this.” He lifted his hat off of his head and placed it on yours carefully, running his hand through his hair, “Okay, we’re good.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest as he placed his hat on your head, and you nearly dropped everything to kiss him then and there, but the sound of someone laughing outside the door caught your attention. You gave Steve a grin and then pushed the door open, nearly falling over yourself as you shouted, “We’re done! Did we win?!”

Steve’s hand was at your hip again to steady you as he followed you out. He finally felt like he could breathe again. The whole thing couldn’t have taken more than a few minutes, but it felt like he’d spent a lifetime in the closet with you. So close, but so far.

So wrapped up in his own thoughts, Steve missed everything you and Robin were discussing, until there was a loud wolf whistle from someone else in the group, “Damn, Harrington! Who knew you had all that ass!”

Without even glancing in the direction of the noise, Steve knew who it was. He flipped his middle finger up but grinned at his friend, “Fuck off, Munson!”

You let out a laugh as you turned to Steve to say something, but you felt like all of the air had been sucked out of your lungs when you finally properly saw Steve. It’d been too dark in the closet to really see what your clothes looked like on Steve, so you were surprised to see how little of your costume actually covered him. His biceps, stomach, and legs were on full display, and somehow, it still wasn’t enough. Your eyes caught on his arms, the small moles and freckles that covered his stomach, and then, the trail of dark hair that disappeared into the waistband of the much-too-short shorts.

Robin, who was standing next to you, nudged your shoulder, a smirk evident on her face. Her plan was working. You were short-circuiting. Even though your head was feeling less fuzzy due to the alcohol, you might as well have been drunk on Steve. You watched for a few seconds as he found space on the couch to sit down, his cheeks flushed a light pink, and then turned to your friend.

“Robin!” you hissed her name, grabbing at her elbow to pull her closer to you. You gave her the most menacing glare you could muster, but before you could say anything else, she let out a low giggle.

She looked quite pleased with herself, leaning in and whispering loudly, “Did anything happen in there?”

“No! How would that even be possible?” you asked, laughing a little yourself at her ridiculousness.

“Dunno, but a girl’s gotta try. Still have the rest of the night to make something happen.”

As much as you didn’t want to give in to Robin’s hand, you were starting to realize that if she was trying this hard to get something to happen between you and Steve, it probably meant that Steve felt something for you too. You narrowed your eyes at her and then huffed, all but stomping away in search of Steve. If something was going to happen, it had to happen before you lost the confidence.

He was still sitting on the couch, chatting with Eddie, but quickly looked up as you walked over, eyebrows furrowed in concern at your seriousness, “Are you okay?”

“Will you come with me?” you asked instead of answering his question, holding your hand out to him.

“Yeah, of course,” he replied, still confused, but took your hand in his and stood up, allowing you to lead him away. You weaved in and out of people, trudging up the stairs to find a quieter place to talk.

When you finally found an empty bathroom, you flicked on the lights and pulled Steve inside, shutting and locking the door behind you so no one would bother you. The music from downstairs had quieted to a dull thud and suddenly the idea of confessing your feelings felt much more daunting in the harsh light of the bathroom. You quickly turned away from Steve to try to take a deep breath, wringing your hands. Steve watched in concern, reaching a hand out to rest on your forearm gently, “Hey, what’s going on? Are you okay? Did something happen?”

You were just going to have to go for it. Turning around quickly to face him again, you started rambling, “I don’t really know how to say this, so I think I just have to jump into the fucking deep end and say it. Especially since Robin’s getting on my nerves with all of the scheming and smug smiles, which I’m sure you’ve noticed, but if I’m reading this wrong, I’m really sorry, we can just pretend it never happened, and–”

“Say what, babe?” Steve interrupted, shaking his head which caused his hair to bounce slightly, “You’re worrying me.”

“I really like you, Steve. A lot.”

It was silent for a moment, and you couldn’t tell what Steve was thinking with the way he was staring at you so intently, nearly scrutinizing. Your heart began pounding in your chest, worried that you had read the entire situation wrong. His arms crossed over his chest and he let out a soft sigh, “You’re drunk.”

“I’m not!” you insisted quickly, shaking your head vehemently, “Maybe the tiniest bit tipsy, but mostly sober, I swear. I’m– I’m serious, Steve. I just… I thought maybe Robin had a point? And honestly, you look so fucking good in those shorts, and I–”

You were cut off as Steve surged forward, one hand moving to cup the back of your head, the other grabbing at your hip to pull your body into his. Before you could process what was happening, Steve’s lips were on yours and he was kissing you desperately. Your hands struggled to find purchase as they landed on his shoulders and you kissed him back, hardly able to believe that this was actually happening. That you were kissing Steve. But just as soon as you’d started to wrap your head around it, Steve pulled back, eyes wide, chest heaving.

“You don’t…” he stopped himself and shook his head as he looked down at the floor for a moment before looking up to you, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that. How long I’ve liked you.” His hand that had grabbed at your side flattened as he smoothed over the fabric of the baseball pants, his gaze dropping down to the floor again bashfully.

“Are you drunk?” you asked in disbelief.

Steve laughed, a soft and amused sound, as he shook his head and repeated your earlier sentiment, “No. Just barely tipsy, almost completely sober. I feel sober now.”

The kiss had sobered you up, too. Your hands slid down from his shoulders, palms resting flat against his chest as you tilted your head up so you could see him clearly. You could count each individual eyelash if you wanted. Count each and every freckle on his face. But all you really wanted was to kiss him.

Your lips met his again as you pushed your chin up, fingers curling into the fabric of the shirt as Steve sighed into your mouth. Both of his hands dropped to your waist, pressing against your body gently until the small of your back bumped into the counter behind you. He squeezed your waist again as he murmured against your lips, “Up.”

You jumped just enough as he helped to lift you onto the counter. His palms grasped at your thighs, fingers digging into the softness there as he stepped into the space between your legs. Once his lips were back on yours, his hands dropped down to your ass and pulled you forward on the counter easily. The feeling made you gasp; your shorts on him left little to the imagination with how you were pressed against him, “Steve.” Your own hands slid down from where they were resting against his chest and pushed against the soft lines of his abdomen, feeling up towards the tiny shirt on him.

“Mm?” he hummed, distracted by the feeling of your hands on his skin. His lips trailed along your jaw, nipping at your skin softly.

“Want you,” you breathed out, eyes fluttering shut momentarily at the feeling of his lips on your neck.

This caught Steve’s attention and his eyes lit up at your admission, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded quickly, cheeks filling with heat as you recalled the moment earlier in the evening when Steve had licked the spilled punch off of his fingers, “Want… want your fingers.”

“Shit, okay, babe. Just let me…” he trailed off as his fingers hooked into the waistband of the baseball pants. You lifted your hips to help, letting him drag the fabric down your legs and drop them to the floor. Steve’s eyes caught on the wet spot in the center of your underwear and he cursed softly as his hands slid back up your legs, thumbs sliding up the inside of your thighs. A smirk was growing on his lips, “Y’already so wet, baby.”

You let out a soft huff of embarrassment, cheek pressing into your shoulder to ease the burn as you looked up at Steve, “You’re… you just… you look really fucking hot in basically a crop top and short shorts and then you’re kissing me like I’ve never been kissed before, and–”

“Relax, cutie. I got you,” Steve’s eyes softened, the pads of his thumbs rubbing small circles up your inner thigh, inching closer and closer to the hem of your panties. At the same time, the tip of his nose brushed down the length of yours before gently nudging up against yours until he caught your lips with his own.

He kissed you a bit softer than he had before, murmuring as his fingers slipped under the hem of your panties, rubbing back and forth against the delicate skin, “Can I get rid of these?”

Instead of answering, you lifted your hips off of the counter again so Steve could pull the fabric off. It dangled off of your ankle for a moment before falling to the ground to join the pants. Steve’s hands were warm at your knees as he pushed your legs apart, but before he could properly touch you, you grabbed at his wrist, fingers circling around it carefully. He watched you in confusion, about to speak but quickly cut himself off when you finally did what you’d been wanting to do all evening.

You pulled his hand up to your mouth, kissing his palm once before your tongue darted out to circle his middle and ring fingers. Steve’s jaw dropped open slightly, eyes somehow growing even wider as you took his fingers into your mouth, his breath hitching, “Jesus fucking christ, babe, I—” Your hand still wrapped around his wrist gave it a small tug, releasing his fingers from your lips with a small pop. “Fuckin’ hell, baby.”

Steve kissed you like it was his last chance, tugging at your lips and licking into your mouth, distracting you enough to let his hand drift back down to your center. You jolted forward, whining into his mouth as his spit-slick fingers traced up your center until his fingertip nudged into your clit. “Please, Stevie.”

“I got you, baby,” he replied softly, emphasizing his words with another circle over your clit. Then, as if reading your mind, he slipped two fingers into you, drawing quiet moans from the both of you. “Shit, you’re so tight.”

His words had you clenching around his fingers as you leaned back, pressing your palms into the cool countertops beneath you. Finally, he started moving his fingers, thrusting them in and out of your cunt at a slow pace. “Steve, I need— oh, shit— I need more.”

Happy to oblige, Steve picked up the pace a bit, fingertips just grazing the spot that was going to make you see stars. Ever in tune with you and your body, he heard your soft whimper, and saw the way your fingers curled over the edge of the countertop, knuckles white with how tightly you were gripping it. He didn’t really have to ask, but did anyway, a knowing smirk settling over his lips, “Right there?”

“Ri-right there,” you repeated, voice breaking as you nodded frantically and rolled your hips against Steve’s hand. He curled his fingers inside of you and then he doubled down, fingertips repeatedly rubbing against the same spot that had you keening before. And when his thumb pressed to your clit, you nearly fell apart then and there.

“C’mon, baby, know you’re close,” Steve muttered, rubbing his thumb over your clit again and again and again until you were clenching around him and falling over the edge with a loud moan of his name.

Your head fell back, thudding against the mirror on the wall behind you as you gasped for air, knocking Steve’s hat on your head off, chest heaving, “Fuck, Steve, I–” The words died in your throat as your eyes fluttered open, only to find Steve with his fingers halfway to his mouth.

He paused for a moment but quickly took note of the way your breath hitched, eyes wide, and slipped his fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean for the second time that evening. You squirmed against the counter, trying to shuffle off of it as Steve hummed around his fingers and then pulled them from his lips, “Mm, y’taste so good, babe.”

“Holy shit, Stevie,” you gasped as you stumbled off of the counter.

Steve’s hands shot out, grabbing at your hips to steady you, “You okay?”

“More than okay,” you replied, nodding as your hands trailed down Steve’s chest. To prove your point, you leaned up on your toes and pressed your mouth to his. One of your hands curled into the tiny shirt as you kissed him, and the other slid down his chest and abdomen, brushing over the soft hair that disappeared under the waistband of the shorts. You paused, pulling your mouth from Steve’s to look up at him through your eyelashes, “Can I?”

“I— yeah,” Steve nodded hard, hair bouncing with the movement. He looked so pretty — prettier than normal — with his messy hair and wide hazel eyes, lips pink and shiny from your kissing. As he dipped back down to kiss you again, you slid your hand under the waistband of the shorts, but over his boxers. He groaned as you began palming him, and you nearly did as well.

The shorts left very little to the imagination — you knew Steve was big, but feeling him hard in your hand was something completely different. You wanted him, and you weren’t sure you could wait much longer. Your fingers tugged at the shorts and his boxers, discarding them into the pile of your clothes, and you pressed a kiss to his hipbone as you straightened up again, “What… what do you want, Stevie?”

His chest heaved as your hand wrapped around his length, stroking him slowly while you waited for an answer. Steve felt like he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t function. Not when you were finally, finally touching him. He wanted to do so many things with you, but most of all, he wanted you. “Need to be inside you, baby, fuck.”

Your breath hitched a little at his admission and you nodded quickly, wanting whatever he wanted, “Okay. ‘M yours, Stevie.”

“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me, baby,” he groaned, fingers sinking into the soft flesh of your hips again to help you back onto the counter and pull you towards the edge. “Do you— um, I don’t have a condom, I—”

“‘S okay,” you shook your head quickly, leaning back into your hands as one of your legs hooked around Steve’s waist and pulled him in closer to you, “‘m on the pill.”

“Are you sure?” he asked softly, eyes searching yours carefully.

“Positive, Steve. I want you. Have for a long time.”

That was enough for Steve, and he shuffled forward, one hand resting against your waist while the other reached down to line himself up at your entrance. You sucked in a sharp breath as Steve pushed in slowly, your hands sliding into his hair at the back of his head. It was more of a stretch than you were used to, and it must have shown on your face because Steve’s hand left your hip and came up to cradle your cheek carefully, lips pressing to the corner of your mouth, “Okay?”

“Mhm,” you breathed out heavily, eyes flicking open to find Steve’s face centimeters from yours. His thumb rubbed soothingly over your cheekbone, back and forth a few times, and you nodded, “More, Steve.”

Steve nodded, pressing another soft kiss to your lips as he pushed forward again slowly, searching your face for any sign that you wanted to stop. And when he found none, he continued until his hips were flush with yours. His jaw clenched, fingers digging into your thigh that was around his waist, and hitched it higher up his side to push a bit deeper. “Tell me when you’re ready,” he murmured, dropping kisses to your shoulder.

Your mind was racing, but with thoughts of only SteveSteveSteveSteve once again. Your senses were flooded with him; the smell of his cologne and sweat, the sound of his heavy breaths in your ear, the taste of his lips on yours, his hands on your body and his cock buried deep inside your cunt. With a gasping breath, you pulled Steve’s chest to yours, your other leg wrapping around his waist. “Ready. ‘M ready. You can move.”

His hands slid under your arms and wrapped around your back to hold you against him as he began to move his hips slowly, “God, baby, you— fuck— you feel so good around me. So good for me, huh? Been wanting you like this forever.”

You rolled your hips into his as you all but sobbed his name, pressing your heels into the small of his back. He took the hint quickly and picked up the pace, the filthy sound of his skin smacking yours filling the small bathroom. Your hands searched over his shoulders and back, slipping underneath the shirt of yours that he was somehow still wearing, nails digging into his skin.

Steve’s chin hooked over your shoulder, and he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror behind you. He looked just as fucked out as he felt; eyes and hair wild as he clung to you. What really got to him, though, was the sight of his last name sprawled across your back. Maybe, just maybe, you’d finally be his after all of this. Heart racing at the sight, he set a punishing pace, “Look so fuckin’ good in my clothes, sweetheart. You’re so… so fucking perfect.”

“Steve— oh fuck— you feel so good. Gonna come soon, ‘m so close—” you were mumbling incoherently into Steve’s neck, trying your best to meet his thrusts, which became harder as one of his hands snaked down between the two of you to rub over your clit. You clenched around him again at the feeling, pulling the best noise you’d ever heard from the back of Steve’s throat. Your moan echoed his, completely oblivious to the fact that you were still at a party and that someone could probably hear you.

“Gonna come for me, my pretty girl?”

My pretty girl. His and only his. It was enough for you to come undone, Steve’s name intertwined with the curses and filthy moans you couldn’t hold back. His thrusts faltered, hips stuttering against yours as he came, your name spilling from his lips in a way you wanted to hear again and again and again.

Your chest heaved against his as you both tried to catch your breaths, and you left soft, open-mouthed kisses to the crook of his neck where you’d buried your face as you’d come. His hands were gentle as they pushed up your thighs and hips, around your back to slip under the shirt of his you were wearing. They were exceptionally warm, tracing over the curve of your spine as he pressed your body into his, voice soft at your ear as he murmured, “Are you okay?”

You let out a soft laugh as you kissed up Steve’s jaw, fingers slipping into the slightly damp hair at the nape of his neck, twisting a strand around your index finger, “‘M perfect, Steve. Are you okay?”

“Fuck,” he laughed, shaking his head in amusement, popping up from your shoulder to look into your eyes, “I’ve never been better. Meant what I said… been wanting you forever.”

“Yeah?” you asked quietly, feeling bashful, like he wasn’t still inside of you.

“Oh yeah,” he nodded, dipping his head down to press a soft peck to your lips. At the same time, his hands moved back down to your hips, holding you tightly as he finally pulled out. You winced slightly at the feeling, causing a soft apology to tumble from Steve’s lips, followed by another soft peck.

It was quiet as you cleaned each other up as best as you could, stealing sweet kisses from the other more often than necessary. The sound of the music had finally come back into focus, and you realized that it wasn’t as loud as you’d remembered. Still, you’d do it all again, even though you weren't sure you could walk, and you knew your friends were going to give you shit for how long the two of you had disappeared.

As you redressed, you finally swapped your clothes back, but just as you were about to give Steve the last piece of his costume — the jersey — he shook his head, cupping your cheek in his hand, tilting your head up, “You wear it. Looks better on you. And besides, need everyone to know you’re mine now.”

You didn’t put up a fight, grinning and shrugging the jersey back over your shirt that Steve had definitely stretched out. Smoothing down your shirt, you held your hands out to your sides slightly, “Good?”

Steve laughed again, reaching out to swipe a thumb under your eye in an attempt to remove some of the mascara that had smudged, “As good as it’s gonna get. And still perfect. Ready?”

Before he could open the door, you grabbed his hat off of the counter and brushed his hair back before placing it on his head, “For the sex hair. Oh, and Steve?”

“Yeah, cutie?”

“Good game!” you giggled, slapping his ass before bolting out of the bathroom, leaving Steve to stare after you for a few moments with the biggest grin on his face.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington imagine #strangertober #best friend!steve #best friend!steve harrington #steve harrington x f!reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #sunshinehollandd #sunshinehollandd writing

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miniimight · 7 months

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first off, I just wanna say how I love how you write izuku like??? my sweet boy doesn't get much appreciation and I'm just obsessed with the scenarios you've made with him 🤭💜 second, would it be okay to request a scenario in which the bnha boys (Deku, Bakugo, any other if you want!) who's been dating the reader for a while but it's a secret relationship- which suddenly gets revealed?

thank you! can't wait for more of your writing! 💜

SECRET RELATIONSHIP GETS REVEALED ! the secret relationship between you and your pro-hero boyfriend gets revealed to the public

with deku, bakugo ( pro heroes )

notes ahaha izuku is definitely one of my favs and ur so right when u say he doesn't get enough appreciation :( but i'm here to change that lol ! thanks for requesting ! idk if this is what you had in mind but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless <3

your boyfriend didn't want his relationship with you to go live because one, he's legitimately one of the most hated heroes by villains and two, the media won't ever leave you alone. he found it better this way, for both of your sakes.

it worked for a while, and though the both of you had to make little sacrifices here and there, the arrangement was more than perfect. that was until someone tipped the media off with one (1) very rare photo of you and boyfie out and about in disguise (a terrible one, at that).

photos of the pro-hero's new companion dominated the internet and everyone was wondering who the mystery person was.

it happened so fast that you and your boyfriend were out of the loop. in fact, you and your boyfriend were out on a secret date when the news exploded.

IZUKU

izuku zipped his crossbody bag up and fitted a black baseball cap tightly on his head. his green curls were hard to miss regardless of any disguise he thought up. he flashed you a determined smile. "ready for our day out, love?"

"born ready," you mimicked his way-too-serious tone. "but won't you relax a bit?"

at your comment, his shoulders stiffened. "why, do i not look relaxed?"

he was standing like his friend, iida—almost robotically, like a sentry who was on high alert. you could see the tired circles under his eyes though the shadow of the cap made them almost invisible. his casual outfit covered one of the essential pieces of hero gear; his gloves. it was almost as if he was expecting something bad to happen.

you drifted to his side, an amused smile on your face. "we've done this before, izu. nobody will notice!"

"at least i have a better chance," he raised an eyebrow at you, spinning you around in his arms. "your disguise is non-existent."

"hey, i'm not the super-famous pro-hero that everyone adores." you stuck your tongue at him, making him smile reflexively.

"it's not my fault i'm so charming."

"oh my god."

a little more bickering and a car ride later, you both arrived at the museum you had planned to tour. the guide handed you pamphlets after welcoming you to the grounds, informing you that she'd take you around the exhibits in a short moment.

"oooh..." you flipped through the brochure, excitement bubbling through you. "there's a lot of things in here."

izuku rested his chin on your shoulder, trying to read as fast as you were flipping pages. his hand enveloped yours in an effort to stop you from turning the pages at a lightning pace— "honey, can you go slower?"

you giggled and thumbed the whole pamphlet, making a little buzzz sound as you did so. "weren't you at the top of your class, izu?" you shrugged nonchalantly. "just read faster."

his hands snaked to clasp around your stomach from where they rested on your waist. an uncontrollable laugh threatened to bubble out of you. "really, 'just read faster'? a little cheeky today, aren't you, love—?"

"uhm... couple at the back, please refrain from pda as there are children around." the tour guide cleared her throat. a crowd had gathered for the next tour around the museum and it appeared as though they were ready to start.

you and izuku jumped away from each other as if you were caught by a teacher in high school, your cheeks heating up from embarrassment.

"sorry, miss." izuku mumbled in a low voice, head hanging. he gave you an amused smile that you returned with a huge grin, accepting the hand he held out for you.

halfway into the tour, the group grew so bored they retreated to the comfort of their phones. hanging around the back, you thought it unusual that so many people began to glance backwards at you and your boyfriend, whispering among themselves.

you caught glimpses of their phone screens, questioning why the hell your face was on them.

you nudged izuku's side to tell him just as the teens in front of you spun around, screaming "it's deku and his s/o!"

you and izuku froze like deers in headlights as the commotion spread through the group.

wait, how do you know? the news just made a story about it today. there's a picture of them here! and besides, he's wearing the same disguise.

you gave izuku a pointed look and he smiled sheepishly at you. "what the heck should we do?!"

"deny it??" he said, though he didn't seem sure of his answer. "that photo?" he talked to the crowd again. "not her."

"yeah, i get it all the time," you chuckle nervously, playing along. you shrunk into his side. the attention was sending shockwaves through your body.

the kids weren't buying it. "well, you're obviously deku." one deadpanned.

"me?" a boxy grin spread on his face as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "no, i'm just... not him..."

seriously, didn't they have specific media training classes at UA for this kinda thing? you rolled your eyes at his response.

"who else has green hair?!" another crossed their arms. "you're so deku."

you both held up your hands, as if caught red-handed by the police. you squeaked, "we're just two random, normal strangers having a date in a museum, promise—"

a kid waddled up to deku's side and pulled his signature gloves out of his pants' pockets, holding them up triumphantly. yours and deku's head slowly turned to watch it unfold before looking at each other almost comically. a long pause followed.

"it's deku and his s/o!" the kid yelled, pointing a chubby finger at the two of you. the whole vicinity was alerted to the famous hero's presence.

you clung to izuku's arms and the swarm encroached on your space, clamoring for autographs, information, pictures—anything they could get their hands on.

to your surprise, deku wasn't the only center of attention. you were asked your name, age, and occupation, where you grew up, if you knew 'their' deku in high school—

izuku's upper arm came under your bum as he leapt back from the crowd at lightning speed, yelling a very apologetic sorry! as he zoomed the both of you away to safety. you screamed as you hung over his shoulder.

he parkoured his way up the museum building, crouching on the roof. it wasn't the first time izuku used his super speed with you in his arms, but holding you like a sack of potatoes wasn't the best position—not if you liked your neck.

he set you down and smoothed your clothes, his hands flying everywhere accompanied by a thousand apologies.

your hands caught his wrist and you gave him a pointed look. "how did they find out? we were super careful."

his concerned expression quickly turned unimpressed. "sweetheart, you have no disguise."

"they believed i was just some random person after we denied it. they already knew you were deku!" you retorted, flicking his cap upwards and allowing the tufts of green to spring out.

he opened his mouth to respond before he snapped it shut. "it's not my fault i'm hard to miss..." he muttered.

you softened and moved closer, wrapping your arms around his waist and leaning into his chest. "i'm sorry, jus' a little on edge."

his hands rubbed your back soothingly before he hugged you back. "it'll be okay." he felt something cold against him and he looked down to see you pull out your phone, pressing it against his body as you got to the bottom of this. "hey—"

"it's all over the news, along with katsuki and his s/o." you hummed, scrolling through article after article.

"hey." he repeated firmly. he gently tugged the phone from your hands, slipping it in his pocket. "it'll be okay. i'll make sure you're protected, not that you aren't already, and we'll get you a new apartment, closer to mine."

you sighed. "i'm not really worried about that."

he gave you a concerned look, wondering if he needed to look into your lack of self-preservation. "...you're not worried about someone potentially attacking you?"

you rolled your eyes, lightly swatting his chest. "well, duh, but i know no one can really get past you and your brigade of hero friends." you waved off his concern. "i'm worried about the paparazzi and gossip channels—what if everyone decides i'm not good enough and they pressure you to leave me? what if—"

"i'm going to have to stop you right there," he gave one of those self-proclaimed (but also, he wasn't wrong) 'charming' smiles as he cut into your rambling. "being with you is my conviction. no one's gonna pressure me to do anything except marry you one day."

you blinked, a huge grin spreading on your face. all your worries were gone when you let his words sink in.

izuku realized what he really said. "or... something like that, you know?" he muttered under his breath, color rising to his cheeks as he looked away.

a moment passed as he held you on the museum rooftop, the date turning out much different than expected. he gasped out of nowhere, jostling you out of your thoughts. his little giggle made you suspicious.

"kacchan just texted me something really interesting; he got stuck in traffic and is trying to hide out in his car—oh."

"what?"

he turned his phone to you. it was a post titled 'NEW!" and underneath was a very blurry photo of you and izuku on the rooftop at that very moment.

you scrunched up your face. "your fans are weird."

he laughed openly. you stared at him with such adoration that you hoped the press got a picture of his blissful face so you could fawn over it later. "have you even read the things they're saying about you?" he kissed your forehead. "i have a feeling they're gonna grow to obsess over you more than me."

BAKUGO

you heard the impatient jangle of keys as bakugo called after you. "we're gonna be late for our res, baby, get your beautiful ass in the car."

you giggled as you stuffed the last of the stuff you needed in your bag. you exaggerated a gasp and wagged a finger at him. "take me on a date first, mister."

he rolled his eyes. "i am literally trying to do that right now, but someone ain't listenin."

"fine, damn, i'll go on a date with you." you huffed, keeping up with the bit as you walked past him, tossing him a playful look over your shoulder. he smiled softly, following closely.

you got in the car and watched him with starry eyes. he was focused on starting the car and setting the music, but all you could think of was how good he looked in a turtleneck. he had so much faith in that face mask, though, as you'd told him multiple times that it was a really bad disguise.

"you're starin'." he glanced out his window before pulling out the parking spot.

heat rose to your cheeks. he held his hand out and you laced your fingers in them. he squeezed your hand.

the ride was smooth and calm, the hum of the engine complimenting the mellow yet catchy songs playing. you were jamming out until you realized you hadn't moved in a while.

you ducked closer to the windshield. the light was red, and the traffic was piling up. you pursed your lips, glimpsing at the irritated drivers around you.

"looks like we might not make our res, huh?" you mused. bakugo hummed.

"it's whatever, betcha they'll still take us anyway." he grinned mischievously.

you squeezed his hand, chastising him. "kats, you can't use your 'i'm a famous hero' card on date nights."

"m'just teasing, baby." he chuckled softly, leaning back in his seat. his head rested on his shoulder as he gave you a look. "better get comfortable."

you laughed and let go of his hand, turning fully in your seat to face him. "kats! keep your eyes on the road!"

"why? i wanna look at you." he smirked.

snap!

a bright flash made both of you freeze, though bakugo reacted quicker. he sat up in his seat, leaning over the wheel as he peered out your window at the car beside you. the two girls in the front row were fawning over the picture they just took.

he glared. "a couple of fans, i guess?"

you breathed out a sigh of relief. "thank god i was facing away from—"

snap!

you squeaked in surprise and reflexively covered your face. you leaned back in the seat to see a couple other teens laughing triumphantly over their rare photo.

bakugo observed your shock and panic silently before he laughed, thoroughly amused.

you groaned, slumping below the windows. "i was talking when they took that picture, i'll look distorted." you whined, voice muffled behind your hands.

he tsked. "i'm sure they got your good side, babe." he was trying to act calm but really his mind was racing at a million thoughts per minute. he had tinted windows. he made sure to make an appearance this morning so people would think he was out hero-ing for the whole day. was this a freak occurance, or...?

you opened your phone and were flooded with articles upon articles of you and bakugo on your dates. in hindsight, yes, those disguises were really bad. those pictures were low-quality but anyone who was anyone would be able to recognize bakugo's spiky blond hair.

everyone was speculating who the mystery person was and how their relationship would be, etc etc. you groaned again as you held up your phone to bakugo.

"what?" he whispered, breaking out of his thoughts.

"come down here," you motioned for him to join you below the window.

he scrunched up his face. "... i'm not doing—"

"come down here." you hissed, pulling him by his shoulder to crouch below the window's line of sight. he blinked, not entirely surprised or against the action. "look!"

he scrolled through, some news pages looking familiar. he sighed. "my agency was starting to talk about these rumors."

"why didn't you tell me?!"

"i thought they'd handle it!"

you pouted and he softened, kissing your cheek. "no one's gonna get a hold of any bad pictures of you, promise. i'll make sure of it."

you smiled. "really?"

he grinned, lovesick. "yeah." so what if the whole world would know you're his? he could deal with the details later.

muddled banging made you jump.

"dynamight, is that your s/o?!" the girls from the car over squashed their faces to the window, cupping their hands around their eyes.

you screamed and dynamight gave them a what the hell look.

he blast through the car roof, holding you by the waist as he soared upwards with loud pops behind him. landing on a nearby roof, he checked to make sure you were okay. all he was concerned about was the frown on your face.

"what, you not comfortable with everyone knowin' bout us?" he asked, voice soft.

you perked up, shaking your head. "no! obviously not. i'm just..." you curled your knees to your chest. "you're a hotshot and you have so many people after you. dunno if i meet expectations."

"who cares?" he scoffed indignantly. "you exceed mine. that's all that matters."

you giggled, your sad disposition quickly morphing into a smile. "yeah?"

"yeah." he assured you, pushing your knees down and swinging them to the side. the momentum made your whole body twist so that you were parallel to him. he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and you leaned into his embrace.

"now i gotta call that nerd so he can move our car. we're causin' more traffic."

bonus:

"kacchan!" izuku chirped, his s/o on his back as he floated in the air. bakugo's face twisted up as if the green-haired boy wasn't one of his best friends.

"hey." bakugo jerked a thumb at his very broken car. "can you take care of that for me?"

"yeah, i got it." with his gloves on, izuku initiated blackwhip. the tendrils snaked around the car and hoisted it into the air, freeing up that lane once again. "did you suddenly get exposed out of nowhere, too?"

bakugo snorted. "yeah, ain't that a coincidence?"

izuku chuckled softly as he nodded. "yeah, super weird."

who could've gotten the jump on two of the most famous heroes' love lives, anyway?

#bakugou x reader #izuku x reader #deku x reader #izuku midoriya #bakugou katsuki #bnha x reader #mha x reader #izuku fluff #bakugou fluff #deku fluff #katsuki bakugo x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku

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morgy-doo · 9 days

Text

school bus graveyard realtionship headcannons

^ such cuties

Ashlyn Banner~

insanely protective

when you are in the phantom dimension this girl is mostly focused on making sure you don't get hurt/die

keeps you away from Aiden in that dimension so you don't end up getting roped into something stupid

Altho she isn't the most affectionate person, she will grab your hand and squeeze it tightly when she is nervous

she begrudgingly...after ALOT of begging, allowed you to play with her hair, when it is undone it is super wavy from being in those plaits all day

if you every get seriously hurt/die in the demon dimension, she will act calm and collected at first, but then totally lose it

she wont cry until she is alone of course

refuses to leave you alone until she knows you are better

after that she doesn't let you leave her sight

she just wants to keep you safe and close to her

Aiden Clark~

your more of a mother/father than a girlfriend/boyfriend-

CONSTANTLY bouncing off the walls

literally-

at one point in your relationship he would tell you he had a cute date planned....you had no idea that it was skydiving

he loved it

you not so much

in the phantom dimension he is using you to back him up in arguments

and he definatley tries to show off for you at one point

when they get locked in the mental assylum, he paints his face as you instead of the clown because why not

he found it endearing, you found it absolutely terrifiying

if you die then he will go silent, not as energetic or bouncy until he knows you are okay again, he constantly brings you things to entertain you with while in the hospital

he just wants you to never get bored of him

Ben Clark~

the most sweetest boyfriend ever

he will buy you flowers out of nowhere just to see you smile

sometimes he feels bad that he cannot say how much he loves you verbally

constantly has hand cramps from writing huge paragraphs about his love for you

the type of boyfriend to just pick you up and hug you when you are mad

you help him calm down when his temper starts to flare up

he really enjoys doing soothing activities with you such as pottery, painting, and baking

he is AMAZING at baking

he loves making you food

in the phantom dimension he likes to have you on his back

to reassure him that you are still there and safe, and also as a way to have quick access to you when you are in danger

if you die in the phantom dimension he will have this deeply disturbed look on his face

he honestly looked after you better than the doctor did

he brought you home cooked meals, your clothes, some things to cheer you up

he wants you to feel loved and to know that he will always be there for you even though you cannot hear him say it

Taylor Hernandez~

such a sweetie

she is so good at reading your feelings and can tell when you are upset/ when something is bothering you

she has pictures of you two together all over her wall so she always has something of you with her

she loves matching outfits with you

she 100% owns a shirt that says "i love my boyfriend/girlfriend" and has no shame in wearing it

she has this ritual where she kisses each picture of you before bed each night and saying "i love you y/n" over an over until she has kissed each picture

Tyler was just stood in the doorway of the room terrified-

in the phantom dimension you both make a vow to protect each other

and she will protect you with her LIFE is she has too

if you die in the phantom dimension she would never forgive herself

she would think its her fault as she didn't stick to her side of the vow

she let you get hurt

will sob infront of everyone

honestly needs more comfort then you do

when you are on the road to recovery tells you all these silly stories about her and Tyler to see you smile

she wants you to never leave her

Tyler Hernandez~

this one is a mixed bag

lets just say you will be very aware when he has entered the room

you slowly help him start to enjoy baseball again

he invites you to practice to show you off to his team

you are now lumped into his protection pile

congratulations, you are now one of his top priorities

he wont say it very often, but he adores you

and he misses you very much when you aren't around

he plays guitar for you when he is feeling especially loving, he teaches you the songs his dad taught him

when you are in the phantom dimension he gets very angry very easily

he is just so overwhelmed and worried about keeping you AND Taylor safe.

he is terrified he would of failed in his job of protecting you

if you die in the other dimension he would be angry at everyone but mostly at himself

he would close off, he wouldn't speak to anyone and he ends up flunking some of his classes to see you at the hospital

he is very aggressive to everyone else but when you are getting better at the hospital he is all gentle smiles and sweet tones

he owes it to you for letting you down

he wants to be able to feel that he can provide and protect you

Logan Fields~

he thinks he doesn't deserve you

why would you pick someone small and pathetic when you can have the full package like Tyler

despite his self doubts he treats you as best as he can

he is the most cliche person ever

has definately watched the sun set with you

study dates are a must

you both defo have this little potted flower that you have "raised" together

he tells you ALL about flowers as he has alot of knowledge about them

when you are in the phantom dimension he always has this dreaded feeling sitting in his stomach

as if he knows something is gonna happen to you and he wont be able to stop it

the feeling would eat him up inside

if you die in the phantom dimension, he would be determined to be the reason you got better, that it wouldn't happen again

he wants you to view him as worthy of your love, and he would do almost anything to earn that

257 notes · View notes

feyhunter78 · 10 months

Note

PLEASE UPDATE IM BEGGING THIS IS MY BRAND NEW LIFE SOURCE RN

I'm gonna assume this is about Pink Pastels, and gladly give you what you're asking for👀

Pink Pastels Pt 6

Description: It's time for Gabi's field trip, and wouldn't ya know, you and Miguel are in the same group.

Pt 7

Miguel’s never been a chaperone before. During Gabi’s Kindergarten field trip he was away on a business trip, but this time he made sure to be there, not just because Gabi’s class was going to the zoo, and she loves the zoo, but because of you.

There’s this need to protect you, like an itch beneath his skin. He can’t forget the look of fear on your beautiful face, or the way you clung so tightly to him, desperate and terrified. The crunch of that man’s bones beneath his fists, the fear that ran through your attacker as Miguel tore into him, talons and fangs covered in his blood, crimson drip, drip, dripping down to the pavement below, it was an almost ecstasy.

Your broken and discarded shoes are hidden in the back of his closet, along with your hairband. It’s pathetic, really, the makeshift shrine that’s beginning to form, and he knows that his actions could so easily borderline being creepy, but you’re his. He knows it. You’re meant to be together, and he’s simply showing his devotion.

“Papá, Papá, we’re here.” Gabi tugs on his shirt sleeve, her face lit up with pure, innocent excitement, and he resists the urge to crush her to his chest and never let her go.

“I see, where do you want to go first, Mija?” He asks, adjusting her baseball cap and making sure it’s snug on her head. He doesn’t want her face to get sunburned, but she hates the feeling of sunscreen, so they compromised.

“I want to see the hippos!” She says, bouncing in her seat as she turns to talk with her friends behind her, little, high-pitched voices discussing and debating which animals were the best.

“Mr. O’Hara, here’s your map, and safety packet. I trust you went over the info online ahead of time?” You hand him a manila envelope, smiling brightly at him.

Your hair is down today, the crown of your head covered by a white bucket hat, and you’re wearing jeans with a sage green T-shirt that reads SRE Field trip, in big white block letters. He’s wearing the same, everyone is, to ensure if a child is lost, they can be easily returned to their group.

He takes the packet from you, nodding. “Of course, can’t leave my chaperone partner to do all the heavy lifting.”

You laugh a little at that and continue down the bus aisle, handing out the remaining packets.

He lets Gabi pull him off the bus and is soon swarmed by five first-graders, each one a friend of Gabi’s—she makes friends so easily, something he can’t take credit for.

“Okay everyone has their groups, please stay with your chaperone, and your buddy, don’t go wandering off, and meet back here, at the entrance at three o’clock.” An older teacher says, before she gathers her own group and heads through the zoo gates.

You bend down to face the kids, an excited smile on your face. “Alright, what animal are we seeing first?”

“Hippo!”

“Lion!”

“Monkeys!”

“Seals!”

A chorus of answers rings out, and you turn to Miguel. “Mr. O’Hara? Do you have any suggestions?”

You look so pretty, the sun shining down on you, the casual outfit, the way you tap your finger against your lips in thought, clearly putting on a show for the kids. If he ignores all the others and focuses on only you and Gabi, he can almost imagine this is a family outing, not a field trip.

“Last time I was here, they had snow leopards?” He feigns ignorance, but when your face lights up, he feels that intoxicating shot of dopamine.

Snow leopards are your favorite animal, the one you’ve voiced your desire to go see many times while in the school’s teacher’s lounge. One which has cameras, that Miguel has access to. Obviously.

“They still do, they’re my favorites.” You confirm what he already knows, and the children immediately change their answer to match yours.

“Why don’t we go there first, then if the kids see any animals, they want to visit on the way there we’ll see them afterwards?” He suggests, still acting oh so innocent.

“What do we think? Everyone agrees with Mr. O’Hara?” You ask the children, straightening up and throwing him a smile when they all agree to his plan.

Miguel stands back behind you and the children, watching as you join them up at the glass, helping them read out the informational signs, and marveling over the big cats.

The environment set up for the leopards is lush, full of greenery and stone. Perches and outcroppings meant to mimic their homelands, and mounds of snow that they seem to disappear into, reappearing with a flash, causing Gabi and her friends to jump back in surprise then burst into giggles.

You soon join him, your arms tucked behind your back as you watch your students. “I think this is one of my favorite days of the year. I know it’s stressful, and tiring but seeing how excited they all are, just really makes me happy.”

“Gabi loves the zoo, we come here every year on her birthday.” He tells you, desperate to include you in their life, if only through shared pieces of personal information. “I’ve got all the photos in my office, my coworkers’ joke that by the time I retire I’ll have half my office wall covered.”

“I used to go to the aquarium when I was a kid, there’s something about standing underneath those giant tanks, with the way the light plays through the water—it’s breathtaking.”

You’re breathtaking. He wants to say, but he doesn’t. Instead, he says, “I know the feeling.”

You smile shyly at him, and for a moment he’s back on the side of your building, watching you through your window. He didn’t intend to be there, to watch you, he only wanted to ensure you were okay. You were fast asleep, hair askew, in a soft looking oversized t-shirt, the moonlight dancing across your peaceful face.

He couldn’t tear himself away, enraptured by the sight.

You let out a huff, and in his peripheral, he spies the name on your phone. Todd.

He hates Todd.

“Everything okay?” He asks carefully, his eyes on Gabi.

“Yes, sorry, just some personal issues, nothing serious.” You say quickly, sliding your phone into your pocket.

“Ms. Y/N, can we go see the hippos now?” One of Gabi’s friends, Emma, comes up to you, looking up at you with big blue eyes, her hand tugging at your shirt.

“Is that what everyone else wants to see?” You ask, gaze sweeping over the other children.

“Yes.” Emma says confidently, running off in the direction of the large animals, Gabi following closely behind.

“Girls!” You call out, looking from them to the others.

“Go, I’ll bring the others.” He reassures you.

You take off after them, and he gathers the remaining four children, who huddle around him like ducklings.

“Is Ms. Y/N mad? She looked mad.” One of the little boys—Tony, named after the Avenger or a family member, Miguel isn’t sure—asks him, chewing on his bottom lip.

This is that Tony, Gabi’s told him about this boy, how he’s very nice, and funny, but gets scared easily. She likes him, maybe not in a way she yet understands, or that Miguel is ready for, but if his baby girl has to have a crush on anyone, an easily scared little boy isn’t the worst.

“She’s probably mad at her dumbass boyfriend.” Dahlia, a girl he can tell is from the Bronx by her thick accent, speaks up, and it’s all he can do to keep from laughing at the scandalized look on Tony’s face.

“Don’t tell Ms. Y/N I said a bad word, but that’s what I’ve heard Ms. Melissa call him.” She says quietly when she sees Tony’s face.

“I won’t tell if you won’t.” He promises.

“Gabi’s right, you are the coolest.” Dahlia says, grabbing his hand and swinging it back and forth as they walked.

The coolest? He wanted to run ahead and scoop his daughter into his arms, she thought he was the coolest.

Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @miggyoharaswife, @badbishsblog, @imisshim2much, @wanderlustingcastaway, @lynn-9703, @sleepyamaya, @erensbbg, @sweetea85, @ilovemiguelohara, @natthernandez, @stxrrielle, @ihateuguys, @jenniferdixon05207, @blep-23, @luvisaaxoxo, @minimari415, @emerald-09, @violet-19999, @kenchosaikuo, @groovycass, @youcantseem3, @lovefks, @nightshxdex, @dusstory, @aesniri, @munsonssecretblog, @kirke-is-my-name, @starbearieee, @chatoicboy, @act1839, @needsleep3000, @totally-not-georgia

#meg's writing #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #Miguel's pastels #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel ohara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel ohara x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099

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suraemoon · 24 days

Note

I adored your headcanons!! Any way you would be willing to do Bucky Egan and reader relationship hcs?

John Egan Headcanons

~Relationship Edition~

🎶: Am I willing to do Bucky headcanons? Of course I am, dolly! I’m so so happy that you enjoyed the other ones I did. You adored them? I’m flattered. I adore you. I hope the ones I have cooked up are good enough. If not I’ll do more.

💋: Bucky Egan x Reader. Fluffy relationship headcanons.

Bucky loves physical touch

He follows you around whenever you ago, it’s like having a little puppy in your tracks or a second shadow keeping you company

You two are constant hand holders, you’re always hand in hand. He traces the lines of your palm, kisses each of your fingers, the back of your palm is an ideal kissing zone

He squeezes your cheeks and gives your lips a quick peck before you can even process that it happened. It’s a quick series of warmth. His warm eyes looking down at you, the warmth of his pink lips, and the warmth of your cheeks as you blush after the fact.

When you sit next to him, his hand stays on your thigh with the occasional squeeze

Sitting on his lap > Sitting in the chair next to him

He loves pulling you onto his lap. The closeness, the intimacy, the plush of your ass placed on just the right spot.

A room full of people and you’re comfy on Bucky’s lap, his arm wrapped around your waist protectively

He’s a cuddler

You two trade big spoon and little spoon.

How does a 6’2 unit of a man little spoon? Where there’s a will there’s a way.

You like to sleep in? Bucky gives your face soft and gentle kisses in the morning. He nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck. He admires your side profile while you sleep, the way your chest rises and falls with each breath, the way your soft lips are parted.

Your boobs are his favorite pillow. So warm and comforting, he wants to stuff his face into them at all times.

More of an early bird? You can wake up early but you aren’t getting out of bed easily. Bucky’s arm is around your waist and it is not letting go. If you manage to get away from the grasp, it isn’t long until his eyes flutter open too. Your weight and warmth are gone.

Also...thigh riding

I mean, look at a picture of this man’s sturdy tree trunk thighs. They're the perfect size for straddling.

If you get excited about something, best believe Bucky is just as excited. Just seeing your smile and happiness is contagious for him.

You know those guys who suddenly act too cool for their girlfriends around friends? Hell no. He’s very proud of you, never ashamed. He’ll tell anyone about you.

Even a random stranger he’s getting directions from on the street. He’ll say loudly, “This is my girl right here! I’m taking her to…”

Chatting to old friends from Wisconsin about baseball and then out of nowhere, “You’ve met my girl yet?”

You were zoned out staring at his face

So, several pairs of eyes all of a sudden being focused in your direction pulls you out of your little trance after a quick “Huh?”

He’s brings you up whenever he can. “Oh, my wife is the same way.” “My wife told me about that yesterday.”

Ever since you two got married, he’s loved the fact that he can officially call you his wife to other people

That one time you went to try on dresses for yet another friend’s wedding and brought Bucky?

You come out of the dressing room and he immediately stops a sales consultant “Excuse me, ma’am. Sorry to interrupt ya but ain’t my wife gorgeous? Blue’s her color right? That’s what I’ve been trying to tell her…Mhm. She says she’ll bring some more for you to try on, babe.”

It doesn’t even have to be a fancy outfit. You could come out of the bathroom after getting ready for a regular day out and you’re met with a long whistle.

“You’ve gotta do a spin, baby.”

You decide to take him on a trip to New York for the first time and this man talks a big game on how he’s gonna blend in so well. “I’m such a big Yankees fan, I might as well be an honorary New Yorker.”

When I tell you he is the most obvious tourist ever, believe me

We ain’t in Wisconsin anymore

The buildings look so much higher than they do in the pictures, he’s gotta look up and stare with wide eyes while people hurry by getting around him.

Bucky resembles one of the trees in Central Park, so he can easily cause traffic when stopped in the middle of the sidewalk

Taking him to his first Yankees game and he’s trying to explain every rule of baseball to you

Meanwhile you’re too busy focused on the big bucket of delicious popcorn he bought you before the first inning

You nod along though, pretending to know all of the different terms and player names that he’s rattling off at you

“They should put me on the field, I wouldn’t have missed that.”

If this man is going to do anything, it’s call you a pet name. Every one in the book.

But of course he has a special nickname for you that he comes up with not too soon after meeting you

Maybe it’s something you remind him of, a certain feature you have, a specific talent you possess

It’s very personalized

Bucky insists on trying to do your makeup one time because “It can’t be that hard” and you end up looking like a Ringling Brothers circus clown

The blush is bright red, the mascara is not limited to only the lashes, the lipstick is over lined to oblivion

He took a picture of you and now it’s taped to the mirror of your vanity along with a bunch of other random photos that have collected over the years

“Now when you do your makeup, you can be reminded of how horribly I did. Whenever you have to wipe something off or redo something think…wow, at least I don’t look like that. You always look beautiful, honey, even when I do your makeup.”

According to him, you don’t need makeup anyway

He loves taking pictures of you. Pin up photoshoots by the beach, candid snapshots of your relaxed resting face while you aren’t looking.

Sometimes the lighting is a little dark, maybe the photo came out a little blurry. But you’re in it, so it’s perfect.

And he’s clingy. He doesn’t like when you’re gone. If it’s been one hour, that’s three years in Bucky world.

Bucky is such a girl dad

You have your first little one and she’s so tiny swaddled in his arms, the sun shining softly through the hospital room windows

A little bit later, he’s shirtless and she’s laying on his chest

He’s whispering to her but it’s so soft, only him and his little girl can hear. The most beautiful little secrets that will stay between them forever.

You get a lot of attention post birth too

He’s thanking you, telling you how strong you are, how you’ve changed his life forever, you’re the love of his life, he loves you, he loves you, oh how he loves you

The second baby comes not too soon after the first and it’s another little girl

Baby number three is another girl

The fourth little darling has plenty of bright eyed big sisters waiting for her at home

There’s a drawer full of hand-me-downs but there is also an array of brand new stuff because every baby is her own person. They all get the same amount of preparation, dedication, love, and care..

Did he used to dream about having a son? Sure.

But girls make amazing little baseball players

And dads make amazing fairy princesses

Bucky becomes very accustomed to tea parties, glitter, sparkles, and having his nails sloppy painted

Eyeshadow used as blush, contour, and foundation all in one

He doesn’t tolerate anyone who makes a backhanded comment about his girls

One day, you got back from taking the kids to the grocery store

The moment you see Bucky, all of your Egan girls run to hug him

It’s not long before he has two little girls clinging to each of his legs, one with her arms around his neck, another holding his hand with no intent of letting go

You quietly recounted to him later in the day how the grocery store cashier remarked upon glancing at all the pink, “Your poor husband. You refuse to give him a boy, huh?”

Bucky was ready to drive to the grocery store and give that worker a piece of his mind

He has healthy, happy kids. What’s there to be poor about?

(Years later, when you two thought you were officially done having kids, the pregnancy test is positive. It’s a little boy. He’s the baby of the family and so much like his dad.)

Another lucky girl gets her own Egan to cherish!

Bucky is protective of his family, even before little Egan’s got added to the family, he’s always been protective of you

If someone ever bothers you, makes you uncomfortable or says something bad about you, he has to confront them

even if you insist to him over and over that it’s no big deal

He keeps you so close to him not only because he cannot imagine being too far away from someone as amazing as you,

I mean, you smell fantastic

also that dress fits you so well

and your smile makes him lightheaded

your voice is so soothing

Wait what were we talking about? Oh yeah…he’s protective. He keeps you so close because he cannot fathom something happening to you.

You can accidentally trip over your own feet and Bucky will find a way to blame himself

Something fell on the floor and you stumbled over it, Bucky should have seen it and picked it up before you had the chance to even get close enough to fall

Bucky’s a man who lives off of reassurance

He loves praise

But he’s not aware of how much he needs it, how much he thrives off it

A compliment will make this man’s day

Reassure him of how amazing he is

Tell him how good he is and how lucky of a girl you are to have him because you are so so lucky

He values your opinion, so your compliments mean so much more than anybody else’s

Every anniversary he writes you a love letter

Always so heartfelt, detailed, and meaningful

He talks about all the reasons why he fell in love with you and continues to fall in love with you every single day he breathes

All the little quirks and habits that you don’t pick up on, but he adores

Maybe something you did the same day he wrote the letter and it’s so fresh in his mind that he has to talk about it

Something special that happened that year

A baby that was born, a trip you went on, and special event, a funny moment, a specific date, something you said to him this year that he continues to think about all the time

Anything that comes to mind

They collect over the years and you put them in a pretty little keepsake box

When you eventually pass on, all of his letters are buried with you

What makes Bucky frustrating sometimes is the fact that he doesn’t like to talk about what he is feeling

He’ll claim he’s fine when something is clearly bothering him

He’ll walk away from an argument declaring that he “doesn’t care anymore” and “you can do whatever you want”

but the reality is he does care

He just hates to yell around his wife, let alone yell at her. It makes his skin crawl.

Bucky lets all the feelings build up inside but just his facial expression alone can tell you that he isn’t alright

And it leaves you feeling confused because why doesn’t he trust you and confide in you enough to communicate?

It’s late at night when you two resolve the conflict

His voice is soft and it takes you by surprise

In situations like these, you always wait for when he’s ready to talk

And when he does his voice is always so small and broken

All is forgiven, all is resolved, everything always ends up okay

No small disagreement or petty argument can break you two apart

Don’t tell Bucky that you are ever insecure about something because he will be utterly appalled

You’re a goddess to him, he worships every single inch of you

Whenever you take your clothes off, he’s taking in all of you with adoring eyes and a parted mouth

Every curve, every beauty mark, every stretch mark

It all comes together to make the perfect picture

He loves the way he fits so snug inside of you, the way you taste, the way your noises blend so perfectly with his to make the most beautiful of melodies

Every moment with you is heaven

How did he go so long without you? He thinks about that often.

His heart has never been so full of love, his mind has never been so full of hope

You two complete each other in every way

He was the first to say “I love you”

You were taken back at first because a man who’s so magnetic, charming, handsome, likable, the center of attention in any room he’s in

He’s in love with you

Little did you know he was just as taken back to hear you say “I love you too, Bucky”

He remembers the first time he saw you across a room and how his eyes immediately gravitated towards you

He remembers how nervous he was to talk to you, which was so unlike him it was scary

Maybe his hands were shaking just a little, tapping his foot to a nonexistent beat, a never fading smile on his face

And over the years the two of you exchange thousands of “I love you”s

You can talk for hours on end about nothing “important”

Chatting about the random topics that pop into your minds, asking to be discussed

Accompanied by matching glasses of wine

Those conversations are your favorite because it’s a little bubble with you and the one you love, nothing else matters

————————————————————————

I hope you enjoyed reading and I hope it was alright lol

If there’s any specific requests or anything I didn’t touch on that has you wondering “how did she miss this?” please let me know, lovey

Ahhh I love Bucky so much

#masters of the air #mota #john egan x reader #john egan #bucky egan #bucky egan x reader #bucky x reader #masters of the air fanfic #masters of the air fanfiction #mota fanfiction #mota fanfic #mota headcanons #headcanons #not proofread

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ripleyresonance · 4 months

Text

Sweet Enough to Eat

Sugar Mommy Rhea! x OC

Part 2

Happy Holiday's Mosherz. I hope you all made it on the naughty list this year. This is part 1 of a sugar mommy Rhea fic idea I had. Let me know if you want more...it might be ready already...

Cali had always enjoyed the finer things in life.

Her favorite perfume was Vanilla Diorama by Dior. Her favorite weekend getaway was Nicè, France. And she had even had her favorite sakè flown in from Japan on a bi-weekly schedule.

The best part was that she didn’t spend a dime on this lifestyle. It was all thanks to her sugar mommy.

Cali smiled sitting at her vanity and looking at a picture of her “mami” on her vanity. Cali was unsure which state or country she was in right now. Being an international WWE superstar meant she was gone most of the time. And with past sugar mommy’s, Cali had never cared as long as they bought her what she wanted she was happy. But something about this one left this empty feeling inside of her when Rhea left.

It all started a few months ago. Cali was down on her luck in a major way. Her last sugar mommy had ghosted her and she was running low on perfume. It had even been three weeks since she had her nails done. It was a dire situation.

To take her mind off it she went to her favorite bar from college. She knew they had cheap drinks so she put on a baseball cap and sunglasses and just tried to keep your head down and drink the sadness away. By the time she left, she was understandably pretty fucked up. Maybe she was a little too fucked up as she was bent over throwing up on the brick wall next to the building in the ally. She went to sit on the cool pavement as she felt a strong arm hold her up.

“Woah woah easy there beautiful. Don’t want you to sit in this puke puddle.” An Australian accent said to Cali.

Cali giggled as she stood up facing the woman.

“Y-you sound like bluey.” Cali burped.

The woman laughed.

“You would be surprised how often I get that.” She smiled.

“Can I get you an Uber love, you look like it’s been a rough night?” She said frowning a bit.

“Oh, you wouldn’t even believe the half of it! I mean first, she ghosted me and didn’t even leave me enough money to get my nails done last week now look at them.” Cali cried showing the woman her nails.

“Who could ever let such a pretty thing let their nails go undone?!” She said playing along with Cali.

Cali smiled at the woman as her drunk brain thought someone finally understood her problems.

“What’s your address honey?” the woman asked propping her against the wall to grab her phone.

Cali frowned at the woman.

“I don’t wanna go home. It’s not like anyone will be waiting for me.” Cali said making the women pause for a moment. “Did you want to go back to my place?” She offered.

Cali gasped dramatically.

“Are you trying to kidnap me!?” Cali said loudly.

The women panicked.

“NO NO oh god you just looked sad and sounded like you-“ the woman stuttered.

Cali laughed loudly playfully pushing her shoulder. “I’m fucking with you. A sexy buff lady just asked me to come back to her house. I’ll happily be kidnapped.” Cali said putting her hands out in front of her acting ready for cuffs.

The woman chuckled rubbing the back of her neck.

“You going to be a real handful huh?”

“I could be two handfuls if you wanted..” Cali said grabbing her chest and making the woman laugh.

“C'mon then my car is around the corner she said grabbing Cali’s hand to guide her. It was warm and grounding, enough for her to realize.

“Wait wait wait,” Cali said making the woman stop to face her.

“I’m about to go home with you but I don't even know your name. I mean not like I haven't hooked up with someone before not knowing their name” Cali said.

The woman thought for a moment before touching Cali's chin lightly.

“ We are not doing anything tonight in the state you are in besides getting you a new outfit. You can call me Rhea…what can I call you?” Rhea said her voice low.

“Shit with that voice you can call me whatever you like.” Cali felt her face heat up. “But my friends call me Cali”.

“Well…Cali, shall we go home?”

The next thing Cali knew she was opening her eyes to a bull terrier licking her face.

She shot up in a bed that was not hers as a woman ran in the door.

“Oh shit I am so sorry I wanted to let you sleep in. Barry DOWN off the bed.” the woman snapped as the dog ran off.

Cali looked at the woman momentarily as last night flooded back to her. She remembered her picking her off of the sidewalk, going back to her place…throwing up on her-

“Oh, my god.” Cali said “I just remembered…I am so sorry!” She went to move from the bed until she realized she had no clothes on.

Cali looked mortified as Rhea quickly reassured her.

“We didn't do anything! After you threw up on me I went to go shower and I came back to you naked and laying on my bed so I threw the blanket on you and went to sleep on the couch” Rhea said frantically.

“I- oh my god.” is all Cali could say putting her head in her hands.

“Hey hey we all have had those days, trust me,” Rhea said leaning down next to her and placing a glass of water and ibuprofen on the nightstand.

“You have woken up naked in a stranger's bed after she picked you up out of your own puke?” Cali said peeking out of her hands.

“Well…no,” Rhea admitted causing Cali to groan and fall over.

Rhea laughed going to her closet to grab Cali some clothes.

“Here you can take a shower real quick and throw on these clothes, I will make us some coffee.” Rhea smiled before leaving Cali alone.

As Cali showered all she could do was die of embarrassment remembering the night before. Did she call A total stranger a “sexy buff lady?”. On top of that strip naked and lay on her bed. Cali had to get out of there quickly but after walking out to the kitchen she was hit with the smell of toast.

“There you are sunshine, I got coffee and some toast, the hangover breakfast of champions.”

Rhea sat the food on her kitchen island before Cali as she just stared at the woman.

“Why are you being so nice to me…” Cali said quietly. Rhea looked at the woman with soft eyes.

“Last night you told me you didn't want to go home…you said no one was waiting there..and I don't think anyone should feel that way…especially not someone as beautiful as you are.”

Rhea mumbled the last part as Cali blushed taking a seat and drinking a sip of coffee.

“So did you just break up with your partner then?” Rhea questioned as she leaned against the counter sipping a cup of her coffee.

“Oh no, I haven't dated in…a long time.” Cali laughed

Rhea cocked her eyebrow.

“Sorry you mentioned someone was paying for your nails and perfume so I assumed,” Rhea said

Cali groaned internally thinking how she was about to explain to this kind stranger that she just gets sugar mommies to buy her things. She should have just lied but the ibuprofen was taking longer than she wanted to kick in.

“I uh…people like to buy me those things sometimes,” Cali said avoiding eye contact.

Rhea had a devious smile across her face.

“Are you a sugar baby?” Rhea questioned.

Cali signed looking at Rhea.

“Okay okay let me explain I started back in college and it was super easy and I started getting used to all the gifts and attention and-” Cali rambled.

“Hey hey, no judgment from me..It's not like you are scamming people. They just like giving you what you want, and I see why.” Rhea smirked.

Cali looked confused as Rhea set her cup down standing in front of Cali grabbing her hand. “You were right last night. I cannot believe someone would let you have your nails grown out this much. I would let you change them multiple times a week if that was what you wanted.

Cali stared at her shaking her head and laughing.

“Okay okay poke fun of me all you want thank you for the breakfast,” Cali said getting up as Rhea as Rhea pulled her hand again.

“I’m being serious…Cali.” Rhea said.

“My job has me flying everywhere, I am rarely here at home and it would be nice to have someone to come home to when I am back Maybe even fly out sometimes.” Rhea smiled.

Cali blinked a couple of times trying to process what Rhea was saying.

“… I’m sorry but do you remember me puking on you less than twenty-four hours ago? Why in the fuck would you want to be my sugar mommy.” Cali said highly confused.

“Because Cali I find you…interesting, and I want to find out why,” Rhea said lightly kissing the inside of Cali’s wrist making her blush.

As the offer hung in the air Cali’s mind raced at the unexpected turn of events. Rhea offered to go get her nails fixed she couldn't help but feel a sort of tension in the air…Cali did not know if it was all in her head or what but she could have sworn that kiss to her wrist was more romantic than transactional.

#rhea ripley #wlw #wwe #wwe raw #mami rhea #Rhea Ripley x OC #rhea ripley imagine #rhea ripley x reader

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cowboyjen68 · 4 months

Note

Hi Jen, sorry for dumping a big rant in your askbox but your blog has helped me figure out my identity and I don’t have anyone to talk to about this in real life lol. Feel free to delete if this is too weird.

So I’m a 17 y/o butch, and I have been masculine since I was a little kid. I always felt lucky to have a family that was generally okay with my gender nonconformity. They treated it like a cute quirk of mine, and I never felt like I was being judged or that I should change the way I am around them. My dad got a kick out of it. One summer he let me help him build the deck in our backyard. He always took me to baseball games, he dressed me up in his old clothes, basically treated me like I was his son and I loved it.

I feel like as I get older, my masculinity becomes less acceptable. I went to visit my paternal grandmother for the holidays, hadn’t seen her in a few years, and the first thing she said to me was “I thought you would’ve grown out of all that by now” (in reference to my haircut and outfit, I think.) I just don’t know how to react to the way my extended family treats me now. They used to be totally fine with it, but I spent my entire Christmas feeling like I was being judged for every little thing.

Like, what’s changed? Why is it cute and funny when a little girl wears boy’s clothes and wrestles with her cousins, but disgusting when I grow up and settle into my masculinity?

It’s like I’ve crossed the invisible line between being a tomboy and being a dyke, and now no one wants to entertain it anymore.

Again, sorry for the rant haha, I just feel like I’m going crazy because I tried to talk to my sister about it and she said she didn’t notice them acting any different, but I swear my aunt spent half of our Christmas dinner telling me how pretty I would be if I just wore a bit of makeup lmaoo. I’m just wondering if anyone else has experienced this, because I’m feeling pretty lost right now. Thanks, and happy holidays!

It is not weird at all. I hear that young lesbians, particularly butches, do not have older role models to bounce ideas off of or vent or get any perspective on certain experiences. Moms and Dads and straight sisters and cousins, no matter how well meaning, will just not always "get" what is happening. They say things like "we love you no matter what" and "we don't care if you are a lesbian" and they mean it, mostly. But they often don't see the subtle clues (or blatant ones)they toss around that indicates how uncomfortable they are with you being so visible, but just existing as you naturally are.

AND OH MY GOSH yes I have experienced exactly what you are talking about with the deepening judgement as you move from a cute little Tomboy to an adult butch women. It is almost like they hope to "catch it early" when we are in our teens and redirect us away from the "danger" of being a visible lesbian. And a woman who does not, in very overt ways, conform to their idea of how a woman should be and act.

My dad was relatively consistent in treating me pretty much like he would a son and, to his credit, he did so with my straight sister. We were allowed to do just about anything my older brothers did. In part because my sister was pretty strong willed but also a lot like him. I was less strong willed but she had mowed the path.

Mom was the one who was forever concerned about my looks and behavior, both out of worry I would not fit in, and because she had a certain expectation of how her daughter should grow up. Both normal Mom reactions. She understood bullies and knew that sticking out could be difficult. Her solution was not to strengthen my resilience but to attempt to "tone me down". Her efforts increased as I made the jump from kid to teen and into my late teens. She would discourage me from cutting my hair, becoming almost angry when I brought it up. She would tell me how lovely I was in dresses and skirts and say thing like " a little make up would be nice". It got really old. It lead to us not always getting along even though I loved and respected my mom. She was a great mom. But this one thing made us both crazy. She could not cool it and I could not change who I was.

Friends at school saw hints of my liking girls. I stopped wearing cowboy boots and my favorite horse buckle and it their place went with K Mart Tennis shoes and a generic belt that came with my pants, again, from Kmart. I put away the cowboy fringed shirts and flannel and went with simple jeans and sweatshirts, the acceptable attire for boys and girls in my rural high school. I kept my hair long to disguise my "looking like a boy" traits.

I (barf) agreed to date a boy and spent the better part of that time making excuses to not kiss him or spent time with him. I was starting to listen to mom and do my best to hide ME from the world. Anything (with in reason) to throw the world off the scent, the scent of me being a lesbian. Being butch made that one more step difficult.

It is hard to hide the space we take up naturally.

It might seem hard to see it now by your family is slightly well intentioned, knowing that being "seen" easily as a lesbian can be dangerous. But also, they are uncomfortable with your energy and physical presence because it does not coincide with their ideas of what a woman acts, feels and moves like. This is a THEM problem and I can give you words of comfort based on experience.

The more you begin to be you, and dress in what gives you comfort the more your confidence will grow and be evident. People who are emboldened to try and change you for their own comfort tend to back way off when there is no opening for their opinions. They just sort of realize they are wasting time. AND for those that don't, there are always a few, you don't have to give them any air or acknowledgement. You get to let them waste time and energy while you look great in whatever you wish to wear and however you wish to cut your hair. And in a wonderful turn around, you don't have to spend any effort just being you or trying to defend or correct them.

You are fast approaching adulthood and with that will come even more freedom and independence. Don't rush it but also, work towards that.

#butch #lesbian #family #unwanted opinions of family

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x0x0josephinex0x0 · 6 months

Text

little wonders | wonwoo

genre: childhood bsf!wonwoo x reader, game developer!wonwoo, all fluff, a day in the park in autumn, comfort <3 warnings: reader is not in a great place mentally, but no explicit mental illness is named. skinniness is brought up, disordered eating is mentioned, childhood bike crash & stitches mentioned, gendered terms used (woman), dresses and makeup mentioned, jeonghan makes an appearance, reader mentions church once, lmk if i'm missing anything

You plunk out a single, despondent note on the piano, and look glumly around the empty room in your brand new apartment - empty but for the terribly out-of-tune piano the last owner left behind for you after hearing you were musically inclined. The off-key note hangs in the air like the melancholy loneliness that was your seemingly constant companion these past few days. You can’t even muster up the energy to sigh.

This is not what you had expected when you had decided to follow your dreams. You were finally here -- in New York City, the place where you had always wanted to live, working in your dream career. And yet, although this was a change you had desperately wanted to make for yourself, you felt drained, alone, and empty. Plus, there was the crushing worry that always accompanied guilt. After all, you couldn’t help but remember all the friends and family members, some of whom relied on you, whom you had left behind. All for this -- to sit in your sad, empty apartment, alone on weekends. From where you sit on this raggedy piano bench, it looks embarrassingly foolish.

Your phone buzzes. It’s your mother. You stare at her name on the screen, debating silently. If you don’t answer, she’ll be worried. If you do, she’ll also be worried. There really isn’t any way to win. You choose the third option, texting her as your phone continues to ring: “Sorry, I’m busy right now and can’t talk! I’ll call you later.”

She texts back after the call goes to voicemail. “Ok, just wanted to make sure you’re alright!”

“I’m alright,” you reply, “Just getting settled in. I love you!”

That ought to hold her off for a couple hours, you say, stretching. Tired, you lay your arms on the piano keys and then let your head fall, your eyelids fluttering closed.

You are abruptly awakened at the sound of a knock at your door. Thinking of all the horror stories that start this way, you creep forward and look through the peephole. Standing at your door is a tall, good-looking man wearing glasses and a black baseball cap. It’s Wonwoo, your childhood best friend and now new neighbor, who made the move to the city a few years before you had and lived two floors above you.

You curse under your breath. You’re in a raggedy tank top and pajama bottoms, and quite aside from Wonwoo being the most attractive person you know, he knows you well enough to know that if you’re dressed like this, it probably means that you’re not doing well.

He knocks again, and calls out to you, just as you debate leaving him to rot on your doorstep. “I know you’re in there,” he says, and there’s a laugh in his voice.

Frustrated, you crack the door open just a tad, so that all he can see is your face. “Hi,” he says, and the way he beams when he sees you is almost enough to dispel the melancholy. “It’s been awhile.”

It really has. Wonwoo had been out of town on a business trip when you’d moved in a month ago, and had only yesterday returned from some distant town. You hadn’t seen him in person since he’d moved to the city two years ago, although you had spoken frequently and had partially made the move because of him. “Hi,” you say back, trying to sound normal, but sounding dumb even to yourself.

He shoots you a quizzical look. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you hedge. “You look good.”

“Thanks,” he says, still looking at you suspiciously. “Can I come in, or are you naked in there?”

You glower at him, and then step from behind the door so he can see your outfit. “Not naked. I don’t really have anything for you to sit in, though.”

“Well, that’s okay,” he says, stepping across the threshold. “I don’t need to sit.” He walks into your empty living room, turning around, a sad half-smile on your face. “Your mom called me,” he tells you.

“She what?” you ask him.

“She’s worried about you,” he says, moving over to the empty mantle. It’s covered in dust, and you blush with embarrassment. “Honestly, I’m a little worried too.”

Your eyes fill with tears. You had anticipated a large, loud, warm housewarming party with new friends from work and church and other social events, but no one had ever even been inside your apartment but you. All at once, you feel empty and lonely and nearly invisible, and the feeling overwhelms you. You wait till Wonwoo’s back is turned before breaking down completely.

He notices right away anyway. “Hey,” he says, his tone gentle, and he crosses the room in two strides to pull you into his arms.

It’s been a long time since anyone hugged you, and the last hug you’d given Wonwoo was awkward, observed by both of your parents, who had long wanted something to happen between you two. You were surprised at how much he’d seemed to grow in the two years he’d been absent from your life -- you remembered hugging him had felt bony and uncomfortable because of how skinny he'd been as a teen, but now, cradled in his arms, you felt the muscle beneath his shirt and jacket. It was comforting and warm here, like a piece of home you desperately need, and you let the tears flow freely, watching as they hit the red pattern on his jacket.

Your shock continues when, as you sob into Wonwoo’s chest, you feel his hand on the back of your head, offering gentle strokes of your hair. The Wonwoo who’d left you for New York had been the kind of person who was awkward with physical touch. He had rarely hugged you -- not even when you’d graduated high school together, not at your last performance that he’d come to see. This new affection from him is both confusing and vital for you. You breathe him in, needing this closeness more than you need air, letting him hold you until the tears stop.

When they finally do, he pulls back to look at you. “What’s going on?” he asks, brushing the wet stickiness of your tears off your face with the back of his jacket.

“I think I bit off more than I can chew,” you tell him, still sniffling. “Was it hard for you, when you first moved away?”

He thinks for a minute. “I don’t think I ever cried this much,” he admits, still stroking the back of your head. “But I also don’t think I’m naturally that social. I think you’ve been alone here for far too long.”

You nod in agreement. He tucks you into his chest again, swaying back and forth soothingly. “Why haven’t you had anyone over?” he asks. “It’s hard for me to imagine you haven’t made any new friends here.”

“I really haven’t,” you admit, and the guilt washes over you again. Tears choke your voice. “All I do is go to work, and then I come home to this. I can’t invite people over to a place where there’s no furniture, and I don’t even have anyone to help me move it in.”

“You have me,” he reminds you.

“Now,” you tell him. “You were gone.”

He sighs. “Well, I’m not going anywhere far for a good long while,” he tells you, giving you a little squeeze.

There is a brief pause in the conversation before he continues. “I think you haven’t bought new furniture because you’re thinking of leaving. Am I right?”

You are once again shocked. “How did you know?”

He chuckles. “I didn’t have furniture for a week after I moved here.”

“Really?” you ask, pulling away to look at him. “I thought it wasn’t as hard for you.”

“No, I just didn’t cry as much,” he says, still grinning. “I struggled plenty for a week or so.”

“It’s been a month,” you remind him, starting to feel panicky again. “I’ve been here a month, and things haven’t gotten better.”

His eyes are kind. “Everyone moves at their own pace,” he says gently.

You shake your head. “I wanted to move here so bad,” you say bitterly. “I thought I was finally going to live the life I always dreamed about. And I’m just miserable.” You hate how your voice shakes, and how the tears begin to well up in your eyes again. “I think there’s something wrong with me,” you whisper to him, the worry in your voice evident.

He smiles at you. “What you’re feeling right now is very normal. Whenever anyone makes a big change like this, it takes time to adjust.”

His eyes suddenly light up. “Go change. Wear something warm,” he says. “It’s a bit chilly. We’re going out.”

“But --” you start to protest, but he lightly shoves you toward your bedroom door.

“Go,” he says, exasperated but laughing. “I promise you it’ll be good for you.”

You reluctantly change into a sweater and jeans, throwing a puff-top beanie on top of your mess of hair. Tumbling out of your room and putting on your favorite pair of boots, you face him. “Okay, I’ll play along,” you say, a little breathless. “Where are we going?”

“I’m going to show you,” he says, grabbing your hand and running out the door so fast you barely have time to lock it.

It’s no time before you’re in the brisk fall air, the sun spotty between clouds, the chill nipping your nose. You struggle to keep up with Wonwoo, whose energetic pace is not like him. Normally quiet and reserved, you had normally been the one dragging him out on adventures. He must be very excited, you reason to yourself, and you can’t help but smile. The thought makes you feel warm.

The first place you stop is at a meatball sandwich restaurant. “This is the best meatball sandwich in the world,” Wonwoo says, accepting the foil-wrapped meal with a thank you to the tubby gentleman who hands it to him. “Try it.”

You do — and an explosion of flavors hit your mouth. You look at Wonwoo with wide eyes, and he grins at you. “You were right,” you say, taking another bite and handing him the other half of the sandwich. The depression of the past month had guaranteed that you did not eat much, because making food was so overwhelming and hard. But this reminder of how food could taste brought you some hope that your energy would return. You try not to cry as you look down at the sandwich, and Wonwoo takes you by the hand to guide you to the next place.

“This city is home to some of the best food in the world,” Wonwoo reminds you as you walk hand in hand. “It’s pretty crazy that we live two blocks from that sandwich.” He then looks at you, and you can see the awkward teenager he used to be shining out from his eyes. “If you ever…well, if you ever don’t feel like eating again, you can let me know. I’ll take any excuse to go back to one of my favorite places. I can even grab it to go and bring it to you if you can’t go out.”

You don’t know how to respond to this thoughtfulness, so you just take another bite. You have suddenly become very aware of his hand in yours, his fingers intertwined with your own like you used to do as kids, and you’re glad that it’s chilly so that he can’t differentiate from the sting of the cool air and the blush that has stolen up your cheeks.

You stop at Central Park. It’s beautiful on this gloomy day — the fall colors are popping against the cloudy sky, and the occasional bursts of sun seem to set the world on fire around you. Wonwoo points at bluebirds that flit around the branches of the trees, making you laugh as he tries to imitate the sound they make in the morning. “Do you remember Mr. Scarecrow?” you ask him suddenly, remembering in elementary school when Wonwoo used to walk in a whacky, limp stride at your request.

He smiles. “Of course,” he says, letting go of your hand to lurch around on the empty path.

You giggle. “We were weird kids,” you admit. “What was that about?”

He looks at you, his smile softening with nostalgia. ��It’s not that strange,” he says. “I just loved hearing you laugh.” This revelation hits you right in the heart, and it thumps hard. You have to take a deep breath to calm yourself. After the numbness of the last month, any feeling is foreign, but it is especially odd to be feeling this with - and about - Wonwoo. Wonwoo, who you’ve known since before you could read. Wonwoo, who was at every performance and event, whose parents set you up on play dates, who dated girls in high school and watched you date boys, who knows you better than almost anyone, and with whom it now feels like absolutely no time has passed, even though it’s been years. You are amazed, thinking of how quickly you’d adjusted to having him in your life, and how comfortably he fit there. It feels like a line is being crossed, and you can’t tell what exactly waits on the other side of it.

When he comes back to stand next to you, he doesn’t take your hand again, and you are strangely hollow at the thought that maybe he really was just showing you around — maybe the frantic beating of your heart against your chest was nothing close to how his own heart felt with you. You try not to be crushed at this idea. To occupy your hands, you shove them in your pockets, striding alongside Wonwoo as he tells animated stories about his life in New York and his job as a game developer, and even despite yourself, you find yourself grinning.

Suddenly, Wonwoo gets a call. He checks his phone and his eyes get wide. “Hey, Jeonghan,” he says in answer, giving you a significant look. “You know that girl I was telling you about? I’m with her right now.”

You shoot him a quizzical look. He grins, half-listening to his friend on the other end. “Oh?” He says, nodding. “Yeah, I think we could stop by for a few minutes tonight.”

You point at yourself in disbelief. As Wonwoo hangs up, you ask, “what was that about?”

“My boss wants to meet you. He’s really cool. I told him we’d come by his party tonight if you were okay with it.”

Your stomach turns over. “I don’t know,” you say.

“I thought you might say that,” he says, and throws his arm around your shoulder. “But we have awhile until then. We could go home and get ready right now, and still have some time to chill beforehand.”

The way he says it — like he plans on being there with you the whole time — comforts you. “You’ll never make friends here if you don’t find courage to try to meet people,” Wonwoo says, rubbing your shoulders gently. “I know it’s hard sometimes, but these people have heard about you. And they’re really good people.”

You feel warm inside. “What did you tell them about me?” you ask him.

“Just that you’re my best friend and I was really excited for you to move here,” he says, not meeting your eyes.

You can tell there are things he’s not telling you, but you decide not to pressure him. “Okay,” you agree. “Let’s go then.”

🥰🥰🥰

Three hours later, you’re standing in your living room, your hair done and wearing an acceptable amount of makeup, in a little black dress Wonwoo picked out for you. “Are you sure this is okay?” you ask him as he emerges from your bathroom, wearing a white button-down and black pants.

You find yourselves staring at each other. “Wow,” you say in unison. He looks stunning, and he simultaneously looks stunned. “I forgot how well you clean up,” you say first.

“You look beautiful,” he says, his eyes wide as he examines you.

You blush. “Thanks.” He doesn’t move, just looks at you, still taking you in. You grin. “If we don’t go now, we’ll probably be late.”

He seems to shake himself into reality. “Right,” he says, grabbing your hand, and you lock your apartment door on your way out.

He holds your hand all the way down the stairs, helps you into the cab, and looks at you with a small smile as it pulls away. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay,” you say honestly. It feels good to be going somewhere dressed up, and you find that your anxiety is greatly calmed by how peaceful Wonwoo seems. You examine him in the lights from passing cars and billboards as the taxi crawls through New York traffic. “You seem happier,” you tell him.

He nods, looking out the window. “I am,” he says simply.

“I’m glad,” you say.

He takes your hand again. “Me too,” he says, interlocking your fingers.

The cab lets you out near a huge skyscraper. Wonwoo opens the door for you, helping you out of the car and keeping hold of your hand as you approach the doorman. “Hi, John,” Wonwoo says. “We’re just here for Jeonghan’s thing.”

The doorman smiles widely. “I’m glad you brought that girl you always talk about!” he exclaims, holding out a pudgy hand. “Good to finally meet you!”

“Thank you?” You say, a bit of a question in your voice, and you look at Wonwoo. He’s blushing deeply, but he looks happy to have introduced you to this guy.

John lets you in, and you head to the elevator. Wonwoo hits the 15 button, and you turn to him as the doors close. “How much do you talk about me?”

He smiles widely. “Enough,” he says. “Didn’t you talk about me while I was away?”

“Everyone I know already knows you,” you tell him, both flattered and embarrassed. “What have you been telling them about me?”

The elevator dings. Wonwoo smiles mysteriously, before grabbing your hand to lead you into the penthouse.

It’s luxurious and decorated with tasteful, minimalist art. As you turn the corner, a group of people call greetings to you and Wonwoo, and he raises the hand you aren’t holding to wave. “Hi,” he says to his friends, a few of whom jog over to shake your hand. One of them, clearly the host of the party, looks you up and down before twirling you.

“You’re even prettier than he said,” he says, winking at Wonwoo. “I’m Jeonghan.”

“Thanks,” you say, looking at Wonwoo hesitantly.

“We’ve heard a lot about you,” he says kindly, leading you over to the rest of the group. “We have so many questions for you.”

A tall, dark-haired boy in the corner calls out to you. “What was Wonwoo like as a child?”

“Shorter,” you say automatically, and the group laughs, including Wonwoo, who nods his agreement.

“I didn’t like to share my toys or other things,” he admits. “I’m still that way.”

“Is that why it took you so long to bring her to meet us?” someone asks, and everyone laughs.

He gives a small smile. “If I hadn’t been gone, that might have been part of it.” He grins at you. “The things I like the most are the hardest to share.”

You feel yourself flush red. “He wasn’t all that bad,” you say. “He was also very loyal and honest, even as a baby. Once an older kid shoved me down, and he didn’t know what to do, so he sat down next to me and cried with me. He’s still that way, too.”

“He did say you have a gift for seeing the good in people,” says Jeonghan, the teasing tone of voice clear. “Even if it’s hard.”

“It’s not that hard,” you say quickly, and Wonwoo beams.

You continue speaking with Wonwoo’s friends. They are kind, interested in you, and full of life and laughter. You feel at home — even though this is one of the nicest apartments you’ve ever been in, and these people began the evening as complete strangers to you. A piece of your heart seems to heal.

Still, you are grateful when Wonwoo offers to show you the view from the balcony. After being isolated for a month, the company feels nice, but overwhelming. You sigh as the cool air hits your skin, and you drink in the sight of the city lights twinkling at you from below.

“They’re not so bad,” you finally admit to Wonwoo, gesturing back at the group.

“They like you, too,” he tells you, leaning against the railing of the balcony.

“Will you ever tell me what you told them about me?” you ask him softly.

His eyes are starry in the darkness. He pushes slowly off the railing of the balcony and takes a step toward you. “Sure,” he says, his voice casual, but his gaze is intense. “What I didn’t tell them is more interesting, though.”

“What didn’t you tell them?” you breathe, close enough that when you speak your breath moves his hair.

He grabs both your hands. “I didn’t tell them a lot. I didn’t tell them about the time we were learning to ride bikes together, and we crashed into each other so badly that you needed stitches, but you wouldn’t let your mom drive away without giving me bandaids and pain medicine. I think that was the first time I realized what kind of person you were.

“I didn’t tell them how I spent all our lives trying to stay close to you without really understanding my reasons for it. How I got angry every time you dated a boy that wasn’t me, and they mistreated you. How I looked for you in the eyes of every short-lived relationship I had with anyone else. And how whenever I was less than compassionate to myself, it was you that helped me be gentler. I left out the part where you were the one who taught me what it meant to be loved.”

He steps closer again, and you are so close that your noses are almost touching. He brings a hand up to your chin, tilting it up. “And I also left off the part where you knew me better than anyone, and vice versa. I didn’t tell them that being around you is the happiest I ever am, even on your worst days, even when you worry about not being able to be fun or happy or excited for everyone else. That you left home to follow your dreams, but you feel guilty about those you love that you left behind. That you can become emotionally attached to anything, even the cracks on the sidewalk. How every little thing with you — even just a sandwich or a walk in the park — feels like something special to me, because you make it that way. That everywhere you go, you bring some kind of small magic with you.” He is gazing into your eyes now, begging you to see what he’s trying to tell you. “I didn’t tell them a lot.”

“What did you tell them, then?” you whisper.

He smiles at you, his eyes gentle and full of joy. “I told them they would finally get to meet the woman I love.”

You feel yourself beaming at him. His thumb caresses your cheek before he whispers to you, “I also don’t think I’ll tell them about what happens next.”

And with that, he leans down and presses his lips to yours. You throw your arms around his neck, smiling against his lips, and laugh when he starts to kiss your cheek and temples and nose and jawline. “You love me?” you ask him as he lifts your feet from the floor, still showering you in kisses.

“Of course I do,” he says. “I have for almost my whole life.”

“I love you too,” you say, cupping his cheek in your hand and kissing him back.

#wonwoo #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo fluff #svt fic #svt imagines #svt #svt fluff #svt x reader #jeon wonwoo #city boy jeon wonwoo has my heart #wonwoo imagines

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