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uglyducklingofthe2000s · 29 days

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Behind Closed Doors - Max Verstappen

Dark fic 18+ - if you don't like this or the warnings/themes make you uncomfortable. I can't stress this enough, DO NOT READ THIS

Summary: Max has a secret girlfriend, she might not have been happy about it at first but she'll warm up to him. He just has to keep how he got into the relationship secret. Or he'd lose everything, including her.

Theme/warnings: Abduction, stockholm syndrome, smut (dub con kind of, she's initially asleep but never attempts to stop him), manipulation

No part 2 requests please - Also bc of this not being my usual content I haven't put the taglist on just incase someone who usually reads my fics would rather not read darker content

There's perks to being a millionaire. Perks to the power that comes with being Max Verstappen.

Including facilitating the kidnapping of the young woman lying in his bed right now.

She looks so peaceful. So perfect.

Y/n has been with him for a couple days and she is never happy to wake up to him. But he can see he's slowly breaking her down by actually treating her with love and care.

It's just...he's forcing her to accept that love and care.

He isn't silly. He did everything he needed to in order to make sure she quit her job, by emailing her boss her notice. Thankfully she doesn't see her family much anywhere so sending them small messages here and there was enough for them to not be a bother.

Y/n finally wakes up and immediately looks to check, then practically sighing in defeat when she looks at Max. She seems to wake up every morning wishing it was all just a horrible dream.

"Good morning, beautiful." Max smiles while she just keeps herself quiet for a few beats seeming to consider her words and actions carefully.

"Morning." Y/n mumbles before she finds herself pulled over into a hug and his lips press to her cheek.

Her body tries to fight off the fact she's feeling a lot of comfort from the close proximity but eventually her body can't fight it, relaxing down against him.

"Are you hungry?" Max asks softly making her swallow.

She'd tried a hungry strike, but Max very quickly managed to get her to eat and he wouldn't even say it really took much effort. He just got her what happened to be her favourite meal and that quickly proved to get her to cave into her hunger.

"Not right now." Y/n mumbles earning a nod.

One thing Max wouldn't admit to anyone but himself, y/n is hard to read. She masks her thoughts well and while it annoys Max, he's still on a mission to change her thoughts about this. To make her see how good she has it with him.

He's breaking her down and making progress. It's not going to be long before she's lost her fight and succumb to his advances. Then they can be really genuinely happy.

Y/n sits sitting with Max's cats who have taken to loving on her about as quick as Max has. She is sitting at the locked door of the balcony.

It's been a couple weeks now.

Summer break for Max is almost over and she's actually a little fearful to ask what will happen when it comes to him leaving for the races. Some of them he can't just leave her there.

"What are you thinking?" Max asks suddenly but she doesn't turn to face him, just keeping her gaze trained outside on the sunny outdoors.

"Are you leaving me when you go to races?"

"Planning your escape?" Max jokes making her finally turn.

"No." Y/n admits and actually she's really not, but she even seems nervous about admitting that. Teeth chewing on her bottom lip like chewing gum.

Max can't even help the twitch of a smirk on his lips as he moves over and crouches down, finger hooking under her chin as he looks at her, eyes invading her soul with his gaze.

"Do you want me to leave you?"

"No." Y/n swallows almost feeling hypnotised as he speaks.

She can feel her heart absolutely pounding in her chest as she tilts her head up more when he leans in and closes the space between them, his lips pressing to her own.

She doesn't realise it's a test, seeing what her reaction is. Disgust, fear, or compliance?

When she kisses him back, not flinching from it or even fighting it for maybe more than a slight hesitation before she moves her lips to match his own. Max breaks the kiss feeling there's certainly progress made but he's not stupid. He's also not taking a risk that y/n could easily use as a means of escape even with her willing to kiss him and denying the suggestion.

"You'll have to stay here for the next race. If you're good and don't cause any trouble. Maybe I'll think about bringing you to Monza." Max lies. He won't be, that's still too soon and he thinks that leaving her alone might be the finally nail in the coffin to her breaking point of completely accepting her fate.

He'll probably decide after Monza to see how he feels about taking her to Baku. Testing the waters with Singapore might be the best option.

"If you prove I can trust you to not be difficult while I'm gone. Then I'll consider you coming with me."

Y/n wants to argue that she's been good.

"You'll have the cats. They love you." Max smiles making her look down at the cats who are basking in the warmth of the sun through the window. Their silky coats glimmering under the rays shining down on them.

"I thought you loved me." Y/n mumbles then biting her lip.

That has got to be a new low. She sounded pathetically needy but there's something chilling about the thought of being left locked away by Max while he's away.

"I do love you. Why else would you be here if I didn't?" Max smiles hooking another finger under her chin and kissing her again which he is happy to feel her returning the gesture of. "I'll make sure there's plenty of food and you'll be completely fine. It will be a few days and you can watch me on the TV."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, of course." Max nods with a smile then sighing as he finally sits down. "I wouldn't watch you watching something else when you could be watching me."

Y/n nods obediently to his words then somewhat leaning over to him, resting against him as they sit in the sun.

Max had left for his home race, and he kept to his word making sure the fridge and cupboards were fully stocked with all the food she could think of wanting.

And she did watch Max in the race with the cats laid with her on the sofa. Despite her efforts to keep herself busy there was a longing whenever she saw Max on screen. She wants him there.

But she shouldn't want him there. Logic, common sense, rationality, it all tells her that she shouldn't want the man there.

Not that any of that changes the truth.

That y/n misses Max.

Being left on her own for days, locked away is going to sure be justification for feeling like this and she knows he's her only chance at not being alone anymore.

It doesn't help that he didn't tell her that when he'd be back. He didn't even tell her when he'd be back after the weekend. Not an idea of what day or time.

He actually returns while she's asleep, having left for the airport as soon as the debrief was done. Having his jet at the ready to leave for Nice within a couple hours of the race finish.

He returns to find her laid out on his bed, the tv on in the background as she sleeps. She's only in a t-shirt and her body is so exposed, having been away from her for days and not having ever actually had even the smallest taste of her. His self-control is wavering.

Taking off the thick of his layers of clothing, he leaves himself in his boxers and creeps up onto the bed, gently pushing up the t-shirt to expose her stomach.

Y/n's not wearing underwear, and positioning himself between her legs. Max can see her in all her glory and she looks needy and neglected. At least that's how Max sees it since he knows she's had no sexual attention from a man for weeks now.

A sudden thought of another man being the last to have fucked her makes his heart rate pick up and that cements what he's about to do.

As soon as he licks his tongue over her hole up to her clit, there's a gasp and her body jumps at the sudden pressure. He does even bother to check if she's woken up before he dives in, eating her out like a starved man.

Y/n wakes with a start at the feeling and a moan escaping her own lips before she pants desperately.

"M-Max?" Y/n chokes out, groggy and unsure of if this is really happening or not.

Not that Max replies with any words.

He wants to give her an orgasm but the overwhelming need to be inside her trumps the need to aim for multiple orgasms. He'll tackle that another time. For now she's slick enough that there shouldn't be so much issue in getting inside her.

"Max." Y/n mumbles as he moves up pushing his boxers down and teasing the tip at her pussy before pushing into her. Sliding smoothly into her while she groans at the feeling.

She's tight, and maybe understandably tense from still not being sure entirely what's happening.

"Fuck." Y/n whines as he pushes till he's fully seated in her heat. "Don't stop."

And Max doesn't need to be told twice for that. He withdraws from her before pushing back in setting a pace that is feeding some primal need that he's really never felt before.

His grip on y/n's waist tightens giving him complete control as he almost mercilessly pounds into her. Her moans and fists clutching at the sheets being enough for him to know she's taking pleasure from rough sex. Noted for future reference.

His pubic bone is knocking her clit just right and she's feel her body build up with tension and heat as she nears her own orgasm. One particularly nudge at her g-spot sends her over the edge and he continues thrusting into her through her twitching and tightening around him, impossibly tight before he finally spills into her. His heavy pants while she presses herself back on the bed.

Y/n swallows thickly before she just holds herself there. Her body sticky and she's looking at Max with hooded eyes as he slowly eases out of her, the cringe on her face giving away that the slight rougher treatment after going untouched for however long.

He'll just have to make sure she doesn't go too long again.

"Are you ok?" Max asks softly pulling his gaze up from seeing his cum leak out of her onto the sheets.

"Yeah....just a bit sore." Y/n nods biting her lip.

To say the least she looks disheveled and a little dazed.

"I would ask if you enjoyed that but I think I have all the proof I need." Max smiles then looking at her for a moment. "How was your time on your own?"

Y/n swallows, she assumed Max may have been watching her. She suspected he may have cameras. Whether they usually act as just securities cameras or not, they were certainly watching her. She just doesn't know where they are.

Of course she's right, Max was always able to check in on her when he had the chance.

"...Can I come with you for the next race?" Y/n mumbles making Max look at her with an expression which certainly feels like he's about to deny her. "Please. Please. I'll be good. I promise. I swear. I'll not even talk, you-you can pretend I'm mute."

Begging and promising to "be good" to the man who kidnapped her just so she can get be with him and not alone might be a new low.

"I'll think about it." Max states letting his gaze flick back down to her pussy. "Come on, let's get cleaned up."

Y/n didn't end up going to Monza.

Max decided that it would only benefit him more if she was so openly needy with him after being left for the Dutch GP. By the time he came back from Monza, y/n practically wouldn't leave his side and she was almost holding onto Max the whole time.

So finally he decided she'd be joining him for Singapore.

Her appearance is a surprise to everyone. Literally everyone. No one in Red Bull knew about a girl in his life, no one had a whiff of a rumour of a woman in his life. The team, the fans, the media and the rest of the paddock were all shocked when they saw Max appear with a timid looking y/n by his side.

"Max...who is this?" Daniel questions catching the champion as he stands in conversation with Lando and Oscar. "Where have you had her hidden away?"

Y/n unintentionally tightens her grip on Max's hand but it's not noticeable to the other drivers who seem in awe of seeing her with Max.

"This is y/n, she used to work for one of the sponsors." Max explains earning small intrigued nods. "You can talk y/n." He plays it off as a joke, chuckling which earns smiles from the other drivers.

"Sorry, hi. It's nice to meet you all. It's cool actually. Meeting you and not just watching you on a screen." Y/n states since Max said she doesn't actually have to pretend to be mute.

"Well it's always fun. Make the most of it." Lando smiles looking her up and down, which makes her smile a little awkwardly while Max frowns at him.

"We need to get moving. See you boys on track." Max grumbles looking very much annoyed at the fact he just watched Lando check y/n out.

The rest say their goodbyes before she is pulled along with him to the Red Bull unit. Y/n swallows as she follows him all the way to his driver's room.

Max has been torn about where he wants her to sit while he is out doing media or if he wants her as close as possible so he can keep as close an eye on her.

"What do you think? Can I trust you to come around with me, or should I keep you in here?" Max asks, obviously his question is rhetorical. Her answer won't influence his decision. So she doesn't bother. "If you can behave you can come around with me. We don't do a lot of media so it should be alright."

"Really?" Y/n smiles perking up a little. "I'd rather stay with you than be on my own anyway."

"Good." That's exactly what he wants her to say and he's trusting that she's not just saying it.

He's gotten better at reading her emotion, or maybe she's just gotten worse at hiding it as she's been broken down in her isolation and desperation for Max to let her out from his apartment.

She also just sort of, doesn't feel that urgent need to not be near him anymore. Pushing him away is a foreign though and concept by this point. In fact, things have shifted with Max's presence and how it effects her. She feels safe, his kisses make her feel intoxicated with a need for more of him.

Y/n moves closer, smiling as she looks up at Max. She has gained some confidence with him.

"So what do you do on Thursdays if you're not in the car?" Y/n asks making Max smile as his hands hold her waist.

"Media stuff, we do some stuff for fans on stage. Just talk, answer some questions. Nothing too exciting." Max states earning a nod. "So long as you keep behaving and don't say anything you shouldn't. This is going to go well for you."

He sounds sweet with his voice but the intention behind his voice speaks for itself. Things might be going well, but he's not going to fail to remind her that she is still on thin ice with trust. One wrong move, saying one thing wrong that might raise alarm with someone else is not a wise move. Even if it's accidental.

She's sure she'll be handcuffed to the bed and left there while he is busy as a means of making sure she can't possibly do anything else wrong out of his control.

Y/n just smiles lightly trying to hide her nerves, but Max sees the emotions behind her eyes and he'd be lying if he said he felt no satisfaction in still having the power. He never wants to lose the ability to make her fear him, purely as a means of making sure she never feels like she can leave him.

"Did I tell you how much I like this dress?" Max asks brushing a hand up her inner thigh after raising the hem.

She's only in a silky white slip dress which just about hits her mid-thigh in length and the back is exposed with just a tied string to give it some structure.

"I want you to stay away from the other drivers when I'm not with you." Max states as she feels his fingers pushing the thin and flimsy material of her thong out the way as he teases her as she looks up at him for a moment before dropping her head with a gasp as his finger plunges into her. "Do you understand?"

"Yes." Y/n whimpers before almost pouting when he pulls his fingers back from inside her.

He doesn't even say anything as he moves her to bend of the table in his room. Pressing her upper body down against the cool surface as she feels her dress flip up and he's thrust into her with no need for warning because just the teasing of his fingers and his touch was enough for her to feel more than ready for him.

"You need to stay quiet. Wouldn't want someone hearing you." Max states making her whimper and actually move her hand over her mouth.

This angle is letting him poke at her g-spot with scary precision and she's not even certain he's meaning to. Usually he'll somewhat rely on her clit, but honestly this time with this angle and maybe the thrill of being at his place of work. There's something just pushing her quickly to an orgasm.

Neither of them last long, her tummy tensing before her whole body tries to fight through the orgasm which almost feels like she's trying to push him out rather than suck him in. Not that he lets up, in fact he gets more brutal absolutely pounding into her, picking up her upper body while extending her spasming orgasm around him.

Her hand has fallen from her mouth which has dropped open a little and the beginnings of a loud moan makes his hand clap up and over her mouth, blocking the noise as he slams into her a couple more times then spills his cum into her, so much so that it leaks out around his dick held deep inside her.

He doesn't move them for a moment before he rubs her waist for a moment then returning her to lie her upper body down. Her lips let a small whimper pass at the feel of this angle pushing against her g-spot yet again. But he slowly pulls out taking a moment to appreciate the view before he scoops some of his cum leaking from her onto his fingers.

"Open your mouth, baby." Max instructs, knowing she'll do what she's told he reaches his hand around to her face and pokes his fingers between her lips. The obedience he's perfectly instilled into her meaning she sucks the warm cum from his fingers before he feels it cleans from his skin and pulls his hand back. "Don't move. I need to clean you up."

And she doesn't she lies there just waiting.

Max can definitely get used to this and he's certain there's been enough damage to her that he has got her exactly the way he wants her. She's been moulded into the exact girlfriend he wanted her to be from the moment he saw her and knew he'd make her his.

Was it the most morally righteous method of getting a girlfriend? No.

But did he get exactly what he wanted and will he change anything? Yes he did, and no he won't.

Y/n will be his and only his and she's never ever getting away from him. If she plays up, she'll be back in Monaco locked in that apartment for as long as he deems necessary.

But he has a feeling she's learned that her place is by his side or waiting for him so she can be by his side again.

Max cleans her up and smiles as she seems to try and readjust everything making sure her hair is tidy and her dress doesn't look creased or sitting wrong.

"You look beautiful."

"Thank you."

"Try to keep to yourself. I don't want you talking to drivers, but really I'd rather you didn't talk to anyone much. Avoid talking too much." Max states watching her smile waver as he sighs gently moving his hand down from cupping her face to holding her around her throat with some light pressure. "Just because I trust you to come with me and not cause trouble. Doesn't mean that you're free to do whatever you want. You get my permission to do anything. I don't want to see you talking to people."

"Ok." Y/n nods though only slightly thanks to his hand at her neck.

"I do this because I love you, y/n."

"I love you too, Max." Y/n smiles, because despite being scared of the man. Hearing those three words brings an annoying effective warmth throughout her body.

He uses the hold on her neck to pull her forward slightly kissing her heavily, his possessiveness communicated perfectly. And his warning will stay with her.

Max is the one in control. He's got the power between them and he'll use it if she doesn't live by his rules.

He literally kidnapped her and he's got away with it and now, she says she loves him without an ounce of doubt in her body even when he makes clear threats to her.

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murdrdocs · 3 months

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WHERE YOU ARE. luke castellan

description. almost a year after you and luke breakup, you find yourself in his embrace once more to scratch an itch you can't reach yourself.

includes. SMUT 18+, exes hooking up, fem!coded reader, unprotected p n v, outdoor sex, both r and luke have major attitudes, r is claimed but not specified, a little angsty (they're exes cmon what did u expect), takes place during tlt but no major plot points mentioned; title and inspiration from sunshine by steve lacy

wc: 4.2k+

a/n: as mr steve lacy said, "still will give you dick anytime you need!". ao3 link

There is an itch you can’t scratch.

It’s been there for almost exactly a year, persistent and reminding you of what you’ve been lacking since last summer. You’ve attended to it time and time again, digging into it with all of your might, only to be left semi-satisfied. Never left with lazy eyes, relaxed limbs, and a far away want to do it all over again once you recovered.

The blame for your lack of satisfaction is placed on your chosen partners.

Humans, all either far too eager to please or not eager enough. Either too cocky and overconfident, or lacking any and all confidence at all.

They got between your legs, did the job, but never well enough. They never did it like he did.

And for the past year, specifically the past few months, you’ve been trying to ignore it. Day by day, when you were forced to coexist with your ex, you attempted to push the feeling to the side. You instead focused on the heat on your skin and the gravity pushing large droplets of uncomfortable sticky sweat down your body, ignoring the way sweat made his skin shine. You buried yourself in work, taking up chores offhandedly mentioned by Mr. D, especially if they would get you away from group settings.

But then, in the solitude of mindless duties, you had nothing to do except think about Luke Castellan.

His dark curly hair. His even darker eyes. The way his rounded face had become more chiseled since last summer. The sound of his laughter and the smell of his shampoo. The feeling of his hands on your hips and your waist and your ass and especially between your thighs.

At the end of the night, you would always fall back and spend a little extra time in the showers, bringing yourself to orgasm after orgasm with hopes that eventually one would give even half of the amount of satisfaction a single orgasm from Luke would.

Clearly, with the way you’re watching him from across the dining hall with wide eyes, it hasn’t been working.

“You’re staring.” The pointed voice of your sister next to you breaks you out of your stupor.

You’re quick to avert your eyes to your plate instead, finding that your food had been picked over, conformed from its original shape and placed in a few different spots so your plate appears as if it’s overflowing instead of losing its contents.

You don’t bother saying anything in response, instead shoveling a fork full of brisket into your mouth.

“Just two more days. You can last until then,” she reassures you.

You’re not sure if you could.

ㅤ

Only a few minutes later were you sliding almost all of your food into the fire, completely ignoring the rumbling in your stomach.

Please.

The rest of your brisket glides into the fire.

Just give me one more time.

Your cheese and bread join it.

That’s all I ask for.

In goes the fruit and then your plate is empty.

Someone steps up beside you and you’re about to leave anyway, so you pay them no mind. Not until they speak to you.

“Hey.”

Gods, it’s almost pathetic how the simple greeting makes you feel.

Suddenly, the waving flames of the fire in front of you is the most interesting thing you’ve ever seen.

“Hey.”

“What’d you give up?”

Has his voice always sounded like that? Suddenly it’s … deeper. Granted, the last time you spoke to him alone was a year ago. Both of you have matured since then, but in some ways you’re still stuck in your old nature.

“Fruit. Bread. Brisket. The usual.”

Even though the conversation is extremely lackluster, you find yourself wanting it to continue. You want to speak to him more.

Luke hums and it’s only then that you look at him.

He’s turned to face you now, holding an empty plate in his hand and you wonder: when had he given his offering up? Surely you should have seen it since the fire was all you could focus on during the last minute. Really, you just weren’t taking in any information at all save for the addicting sound of Luke’s voice.

“And what did you ask for?” His eyebrows lift, his tongue darts out to glide over his lips for a split second. A brief memory of how nice it’d been to kiss him comes back before you can prevent it.

“You know I can’t tell you that.” You take a step closer to him as you easily fall into this old routine. Tease and tease and throw in a flirtatious tone to beat around the large bush that held a ‘please fuck me’ sign.

“Telling you my prayer is like telling you my birthday wish.”

Luke tilts his head, letting his eyes wander to the side for a second before finding you again. The fire reflects in them, adding a warmth to his eyes you haven’t seen all summer.

He’d been off the past few months, holding a tension in his shoulders and having a clipped-ness to his voice at times. You might be imagining things when you feel as if he’s different—good different—with you.

“Which you used to do all the time.”

You shrug. “It was always things you could do for me. I just wanted my wishes to come true.”

“Oh yeah, like do your chores. All that time I spent scrubbing the bathroom floors for you.”

A grin finds your lips. “It was a good lesson in responsibility. Right, Luke?”

When he rolls his eyes, you notice how there’s no malice behind the action. It’s almost too easy for both of you to fall back into your old pattern.

“Yeah. Sure.” He takes a small step closer to you and if you weren’t so in tune with every detail about him, you wouldn’t have noticed it. “So you gonna tell me what you asked for or not?”

There’s no point in him knowing, other than to intrude on your life. Unfortunately, you don’t mind the intrusion.

You stare at him a little while longer, your eyes flickering back and forth between his. Every so often, you let your gaze fall to his lips, only to bring it back up to his eyes like nothing ever happened.

For a second, you pretend to think about it, falsely balancing his proposal before deciding.

“I’m good. See you around, Luke.”

When you return to your table and sit next to your sister, she has the kindness to not say anything about your prolonged absence for only a few moments.

Then, “Am I covering for you?”

You delude yourself into believing she won’t have to for a few seconds. And then you catch Luke’s eye from across the dining hall and you sigh.

“Yeah.”

ㅤ

“Knew you weren’t over me.”

You stop walking at his words, shoes thudding against the grass. The thunderous roar of the waterfall covers any other possible sound you could’ve created, but Luke never needed to hear you to know when you were approaching. It was a weird intuition thing you never understood.

“Hello to you too, Luke.”

He turns around to face you, and as expected, he’s wearing a smirk. His arms are crossed over his chest, he’s no longer sporting his camp tee, having replaced the bright orange material with a deep blue hoodie instead. Practically everything about him screams relaxed, his gray sweatpants adding to the ambience that his aura creates—one that says he knew you were going to meet him tonight.

“We’re way past formal greetings at this point, don’t you think?” He turns back to face the waterfall in front of him when you join his side. “You never used to greet me before.”

“Things change.”

“Yet you’re still out here. That could only be for one reason.”

You shrug, folding your own arms over your chest. You have nothing to do with your hands yet, and you’ve been flexing them impatiently with anticipation.

“Maybe I wanted to stargaze. Who knows.”

Luke doesn’t say anything.

In your peripheral vision, you can see him staring up at the sky, presumably stargazing like you falsely claimed you were doing. You try to do the same, picking out a few easily recognizable constellations you knew. But it’s only a minute later that you’re caving.

“Okay.”

You turn to face Luke.

He does the same.

He’s brought a lantern out here and it sits on the ground in front of you both, bright enough to illuminate the side of his face with an orange-yellow glow.

“Okay?” he asks for clarification.

Your teeth gnaw on your bottom lip for a second as you mull over your words. After tonight, there’s only one more night of camp left, and then you won’t be seeing Luke for another year. There’s almost no repercussions for laying it all out now, dropping your poorly built guard to get what you’ve been craving for a year now.

“I’m not out here to fucking stargaze.” You sound exasperated as you admit it.

Luke paints a picture of faux shock on his face. He gasps, splaying a hand out over his chest as his eyes widen. “Really? I never would’ve guessed.”

Really, his attitude is starting to get on your nerves.

Your temper flares and you suddenly understand the rage and frustration Clarisse always inhabits.

“Don’t be a dick.” You try to manifest the negative feelings taking over your mind when you speak, but your tone betrays you. The command comes out too soft to change anything. Too gentle to be real.

“Thought you liked it when I was a dick?”

Something you’d told him in confidence last year. Confidence and drunken delusion. The shameless way you were grabbing at his clothes at the time clearly showed your inebriation.

“Gods, Luke, would you just stop talking and kiss me already?” You take the step closer to him, finally entering his space to get what you want. What you’ve literally been dreaming about for the past year.

He stops for a second, his eyes flitting to your lips once, twice, and just when you think he’s about to kiss you, his lips part for a different reason.

“You also liked it when I ta–”

You do it yourself.

You expect him to hesitate before giving in, but his response is quick.

Hands at your hips pulling you closer to him. His head tilting to the side so he can deepen the kiss just enough. His tongue wastes no time entering your mouth, pressing against your own tongue which allows you to taste the slightly off flavor of the root beer he’d had earlier in the night.

Just like everything else had gone tonight, you two found the rhythm easily.

You let Luke lead, pressing your chest into his, arching your back when his palm rests right above your ass.

He kisses you like he wants more, a little over eager as the tip of his nose presses into your cheek with a little too much pressure. And he could take more, you’re offering it to him with the way your hands slide under his sweatshirt and press against his bare abdomen, fingers tracing his abdominal muscles. Luke just refuses to take it. He refuses to go the extra step.

You huff against his lips, eyebrows furrowing in vexation.

Luke pulls back from you first. He stares down at you, unmoving, not saying anything and when your brain is clouded like this, you don’t have it in you to try and decipher the storm in his dark eyes.

When your brain is clouded like this, all you can think to do is speak.

“And for what it’s worth, I’m over you. I’m just not over…” you trail off, not really feeling like a conclusion is necessary to communicate exactly what you’re missing.

Luke’s laugh is more like a sharp inhale. He cups your cheek with one hand. “And that’s a part of me, angel.” The pet name sounds almost villainous coming from his lips now. It’s too heavily dipped in confidence, dripping with sour arrogance.

If you weren’t so horny, you would be turned off at the sound of it. At least, that’s what you convince yourself. But there’s very little that Luke could do to turn you off.

Instead of dwelling on it, you lean back up and press your lips to Luke’s again.

This time, Luke kisses you how you expected.

He’s rough, lacking politeness and a little bit of coordination. His hands grip at your ass, pinching the fabric of your pajama bottoms and the fabric of your panties between them. There’s lots of tongue and even more spit, a few moments where your teeth knock into each other’s.

Now that he’s participating how you want him to, there’s not much anticipation.

Your long sleeve tee is thrown over your head and placed at your feet, the same treatment goes for Luke’s sweatshirt. Your hands glide along each other’s bodies yearningly. You can’t help but start to feel satisfied with what you’re getting, even though it’s close to nothing.

You’d been wanting to even be in Luke’s vicinity with intentions other than solely platonic—almost professionally—for so long now, so just feeling the weighted heat of his hands on your bare skin is enough to make you sigh.

It doesn’t take long for both of you to end up on the ground, and after a small dispute about who gets to be on top, you end up on your hands and knees, hips wiggling impatiently as you wait for Luke to make the final move. The one to start the end of the beginning.

There’s a few prolonged moments where nothing happens. You’re trying to be patient, busying yourself with chewing on your bottom lip and listening to the soothing sounds of water falling, but you’ve been so empty for so long and you really don’t think you can last any longer.

You look over your shoulder to see Luke sitting on his haunches behind you. Just staring.

He seems to be stuck in a trance, and just when you start to get a little insecure, Luke spits into his hand and runs his fingers down your cunt, reaching back up to probe two fingers into your entrance to the first knuckle.

It’s slightly too much of a stretch all at once, and you wince a little, fingers gripping the strands of grass beneath you.

You think you hear a small apology from him but you can’t tell. Either way, he corrects himself and slowly sinks one finger into your cunt. Already, you’re letting out a drawn out sigh. It comes out more guttural than intended, as if Luke pulled it directly from deep within you as he draws his finger back out, only to plunge it back in.

His fingers scratch along places you haven’t been able to reach on your own. The tip of his digit strokes along a spot you’d been searching for for months, only having found twice on your own. (Both occurrences can be attributed to pure luck … and sheer desperation)

You don’t have to ask for more. Luke pulls the singular digit out and when he pushes back in, you feel the same stretch from before. This time, it’s more expected.

You know to let yourself relax to allow him to continue.

He enters you easily, and he starts to set a pace that hints at his intentions. He isn’t fingering you to prep you anymore, at least that’s not what it feels like he’s doing. His fingers are caressing parts that he only reaches when he wants you to cum. His pace isn’t one of careful leisure. Instead it’s goal searching.

“Luke,” you start without even knowing if there’s a finish intended.

He hums distractedly.

“Fuck me. Please.”

You aren’t above begging at this point. It’s all a means to an end for you.

But you don’t know if it’s the same for Luke.

His free hand comes to your ass and he caresses the flesh in a surprisingly tender way. You watch him lean up, and you watch him pepper kisses along your lower back.

“I’ll get there, angel, promise.”

And it suddenly occurs to you that Luke is taking his time with you. He’s savoring it all.

For a second, the carnal desire melts away to reveal something more raw. The urge you used to feel to just talk to him first thing in the morning and last thing at night. The way your insides would flutter when he smiled, or the way everything seemed a little darker when he was down.

Every emotion you’ve been working to get over for the past few months comes back tenfold in this small moment.

And then Luke hooks his fingers and you’re brought back to the more debauched side of your circumstances.

His pace speeds up a little. He introduces his other hand along your clit, singling out two fingers and rubbing wide and slow circles around the bud.

During your nostalgia filled moment, your body had gotten closer to orgasm. Luke only has to pump his digits a few more times and tighten the circles just enough and you’re digging your hands into the dirt, pushing your hips back into his touch, and arching your back as your muscles tense up and you announce your orgasm, only to let go a few moments later.

It’s a little more than pathetic how hard you cum. But you haven’t felt the touch from someone other than yourself in a long time. And you haven’t felt the touch of someone adequate enough to satisfyingly please you in an even longer time.

Your hips twitch back and forth, the muscles in your thighs tense until you ache to relax them, only to repeat the action as waves cascade through your body. Luke is there through it all, slowly pumping his fingers in and out of you as he coos gentle words from behind you.

Your head hands low between your shoulders, but you still hear him coaxing you through it.

“That’s it … just let it happen. ‘S it’s a big one. You really did miss me, hm?”

He still sounds smug, but it comes off more affectionately this time. At least, a little less annoyingly.

You’ve barely let yourself calm down from your orgasm before you’re reaching between your thighs blindly, swatting Luke’s hands away and searching for something else entirely.

He chuckles, mumbles something under his breath that is definitely snarky, and you’re immediately swearing.

“Luke, I swear to the fucking Gods, if you don’t fuck me right now I’ll..”

It’s embarrassing how the meeting of his head and your entrance instantly shuts you up. It’s like a pacifier nestling between your lips, not fully settling into your cavern without a few teasing strokes up and down the plane of your cunt first.

But the teasing makes it all so much more worth it. Just the first inch makes your eyes roll back.

It’s so familiar, but in a slightly foreign way. You haven’t had it in so long, but you remember everything you loved about it.

The way his head stretches you out first, and then comes the rest of him, only a few moments of reprieve before you get to the thickest part of him. The way his fingers press into your skin as he sinks in, exercising as much restraint as he could. The way his tip parts you open, scratching parts of you that have been itching for a while now.

He’s bare within you, and if you hone in your senses enough you can feel everything. Every ridge and mountain plane and every vein. The way he’s warm and heavy within you, filling you so well you don’t know how you’ve been empty this long.

It’s like an insatiable hunger has finally been filled.

You don’t know how you’ll ever go back to being without this. Without Luke.

By the time Luke has bottomed out, you’re already attempting to fuck yourself back on him. Luke takes over quick enough, digging his hands into the fat at your hips as he drives into you.

You can feel your ass rippling with each thrust, and you think there’s clapping, too.

Luke is harsh with it, any tender moments you two had during the night are gone, replaced with fierce thrusts, his cock pistoning in and out of you with an intensity that tells you he wants to cum as badly as you do.

You have the sudden urge to see his face, to watch his eyebrows pinch together as he cums. You look over your shoulder once more, and sure enough his thick eyebrows are pushed together. His lips glisten in the ambient lighting, pink and plump and parted as he focuses. His eyes don’t leave your ass, trained on where the two of you connect.

Only a few moments later does he notice you’re watching him, and he casts a look up to meet your eyes. His expression doesn’t change, still as concentrated as it was before.

Then he tells you, “turn over”.

You’re quick to comply, barely even having to mourn the brief emptiness before you’re on your back (on the ground but it doesn’t matter at this point) with your legs spread, Luke quickly entering you and resuming his pace.

He leans down, holding your thigh for leverage with one hand and holding himself up beside your head with the other. His forehead rests against yours, his eyes close and yours do too.

“‘M close,” he tells you.

Your hand slinks up to dig into his curls, and like this, you’re allowed to reminisce once more.

Not one specific memory finds you, but the position is so well known. It’s so intimate, only becoming more so whenever Luke presses his lips to yours.

It doesn’t cross your mind to tell Luke to pull out. But you don’t want him to.

You need to feel him, all of him, just one more time.

So when Luke spills warm cum inside of you, it’s the highest form of pleasure.

He fucks it into you a little more, a few punctuated thrusts ensuring none of him leaks out, and then the hand on your hip comes between your thighs again. He pulls out, waits, and when you feel something trickle out of you he catches it with two fingers and drags it up to your bud.

“Can you cum for me one more time?” he asks, voice sweet and gentle.

Even if you couldn’t, if you were physically unable to, you would still give it a try if he talked to you like that.

You nod, keeping your eyes pinched shut and licking over your now unoccupied lips.

“Look at me,” Luke commands. “I wanna see you.”

Your eyes peel open. You stare up at Luke. And with two more flicks, you cum.

“Heard you’ve been calling me your ex.”

You shrug as you pull your bottoms over your hips. Your shirt is already on, but you shake it out a little, trying to get rid of dirt remains that somehow found their way into it.

“Yeah. That’s what you are.”

Luke pulls his sweatshirt back over his head before responding. “We both know I’m more than that.”

“You were more than that. Things change, Luke.”

When he meets your eyes, there’s something in his gaze. Maybe remorse?

He licks his lips, shrugs. “They don’t have to. We could go back to how things were before.”

It’s such a tempting proposition, one you laid with for weeks. Watching the sun set and then watching it rise all in one wake, wondering where things went wrong, trying to fix them in your head so you could get it all back. You treated your breakup with Luke like a mission gone wrong, and that’s where you went wrong.

You shake your head a little and start to walk away.

“Goodnight, Luke.”

His hand catches you around the wrist. He stares down at you, gaze hard and serious.

“Hey, anytime you need that. Anytime you need me to give you that, you come find me. Okay?”

Satisfaction flares in your chest as you nod.

ㅤ

By the time the sun has made itself comfortable in the sky, you’re the last one out of bed.

You shower quickly, paying extra attention to your knees to scrub the remnants of dirt off of them, and then you’re at the dining hall for breakfast, sliding up next to your sister with striking bags under your eyes and an alluring glow added to your aura.

She doesn’t say anything for a while and neither do you. Both of you tend to your hunger, slowly setting food into your mouth and savoring the sweetness of the strawberry pancakes.

Only when nothing is left on your plates but your offerings does she speak.

“Covering for you tonight again?”

You don’t hesitate at all when you say, “Yep.”

“You owe me.” She’s trying to come off a little demanding, maybe a little mean. But she looks a little amused. Maybe even happy for you.

Your eyes leave hers to look across the dining hall, finding Luke already looking at you.

When you grin in response, sickly sweet and triumphant, you don’t know if it’s towards her or Luke.

Either way, your reply is the same.

“I love you.”

#lukesworld!#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan #celeste writes misc #luke castellan smut

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xqueen-of-disasterx · 1 month

Note

Congrats on 1k! Absolutely love your work, especially the darker fics.

Can I request step-sis intersex!Nat walking in on reader as she's asleep and deciding that she's finally going to take her for herself? Nat starts eating reader out to get her wet and the reader moans Nat's name in her sleep, so Nat wakes her up so she can really enjoy it.

Thinking that maybe Nat ties the readers hands above her head, as Nat forces her huge cock inside the readers tiny body, creating a belly bulge. Finishing inside her to breed her and then making the reader cock-warm her so that she can stay full. Belly rubbing because Nat is obsessed with the sight of her cock inside her innocent little step-sis.

Kinks: bondage, breeding, dub-con that turns consensual, somnophilia, belly bulge, Daddy kink and thinking cock-warming too.

Thank you!

Closer

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: fem!reader x step-sis!Nat

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐲: Having your beloved step sister back home for the summer turned more pleasant than expected.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, DUB-con, but the reader is very into it, amab!Nat, dom!Nat, sub!reader, age gap (legal), taboo relationship, kinda mean Nat, tattooed Nat (Nat is just the stereotypical bad boy), innocent!reader, Daddy!kink, alcohol use, bondage, breeding kink, somnophila, cock warming, size kink?

!Disclaimer English is not my first language so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. This story is completely fictional. I do not own these characters!

𝐀/𝐍: kisses from the hospital guys enjoy the first park of the 1k special I’ll post more requests soon. This request was really fun to write

𝐌.𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Natasha knew how wrong it was to feel that kind of way about her step sister, but she was only a human too. Ever since she had came to visit her father for this summer she couldn't help herself but see you in a different light.

Back when her dad first started to live with your mother, she only had eyes for the many girls tendering to her, who were in her grade or above. She never really noticed you, of course you were her annoying little step sister who could've guessed you'd turn into this?

You weren't innocent either, you were always found of Natasha. In your eyes she was the coolest person you'd know, with her blue tainted hair and fast cars, you were heart broken whenever you saw a different girl enter her room.

Natasha soon went away for college, meaning you'd only get to see her for the holidays which was still enough to keep you crushing on her. It was special that she visited this summer especially since you just turned 18.

This summer had been unusual hot for the colder climate of Ohio, but it's not like you were complaining to see Nat in all those wifebeaters and sport bras. She normally rummaged in the garden, laying at the pool, again in sports bras and swim trunks. It made your cheeks heat, your stomach feel weird, and every once in a while when you saw how she climbed out of the pool, the muscles under her wet skin flexing, it made you feel all itchy down there.

Another hot summer day, another day where you'd relax under the water sprinkler in your backyard, just like you did when you were a child. Except for a pair of eyes watching from the pool. Natasha Romanoff, your step- sister, whose eyes hid under her shades, watched every move of yours. She sat by the pool shirtless to "tan", Natasha never tanned, she had the skin colour of a porcelain doll and always used the highest sunscreen to not end up looking like a lobster. No, she was there to observe, not the local birds, or nature, no, you. How could anyone be so carless, she asked herself as she watched your white camisole top turn translucent.

Shortly after realising what she was doing she, or better what your view did to her prick, she looked back on her phone scrolling on a black screen to look less suspicious. But it's not like you would've noticed anyway, Natasha knew how innocent you were, how your mother had sheltered you in contrast to herself. God, get yourself together Natasha, she thought to herself. If she wanted she could've get a hook up here within the day, but it wouldn't help last time she tried she accidentally moaned your name while cumming. Something so utterly embarrassing the girl left immediately after.

"Natty" you ask in an innocent voice, every other person calling the other woman that wouldn't stand here today, but she let it slide. "What's up" She asked as her eyes wandered over your wet body to which your clothes clanged. Natasha never was a religious person but in this moment she thanked god for the invention of sunglasses.

"Can you get me towel from inside" you asked giving her your best bambi eyes. "Go get it yourself, I'm not your personal servant" She scoffed "Please, Tasha I'm all wet and I don't want it tripping on the floor board" She shook her head "You should've thought about that in the first place" She mumbled under her breath but still got up to get you your towel. She could never say no to one of your pleads.

"Thank you" you grinned and wrapped you up in one of this big fluffy towels. She smirked back at you her hands rubbing over your wet skin. "There you go sweetheart" She mumbled again feeling a tingle in her pants when her hands touched you.

"Where's mom?" You asked stepping into the large living area you parents had. "Out for dinner with my dad" She remarked not even looking up from the TV where some, for me, unimportant soccer game was running. "Why are you still standing there?" She asked in a dismissive tone "They'll be gone the whole night" Oh, the whole night just you and your step sister together, great. Nat chugged more of her beer side eyeing you to leave her alone, of course she wanted you close, closer than close, but you couldn't know that yet. Not to mention that with the more of the bitter liquid she had the less she could control her urges.

It wasn't that wrong, she tried to tell herself, millions of guys before her had fucked their step sisters right? Eventually you opened your mouth again "I'll head to bed now" you started and only earned a little hum from her and some mumbled words you didn't understand before slipping on her beer bottle again.

Her team lost, of course it did, Natasha turned the TV off rubbing her eyes before too going to her bed room but not without making another stop at your room. She slipped though the crack in the door closing it gently before taking a seat next you on the soft cushion of the bed. She always did that, making sure you were save and sound but tonight it was different. She was frustrated, and horney, one more than the other.

"You're so pretty" she mumbled being lost deep in the haze of the alcohol and lust, she knew you couldn't hear her nor feel but she still gently wiped some lost hair behind your ear. You squirmed under her feather like touch. You rolled onto your back the blanket slipping from your body exposing your topless body. Fuck, you had forgotten to wear a shirt to bed, or had you? Nat saw it as an invitation to taste your sweet body.

She stood up pulling her hoodie off to reveal a hard set of muscles covered in tattoos, she strangled your smaller body kissing the valley between your breasts before turning to kiss down your soft stomach. You squirmed again your hands trying to find something to grip on, Nat caught your hands bringing them above your head before using her abandoned top to tie your hands to the head board of your framed bed.

Finally she could turn to your soaked panties tugging them off your legs, your step sister placed both of your legs on her shoulders giving you better access to your sleeping form. She kissed your pubic bone before taking a deep sniff of your glossy cunt. "let my taste you baby girl" She groaned before licking over your weeping pussy, you tasted fantastic better than any girl she had before you.

Your clit was pulsing in need to be touched, standing proud from his hood Nat couldn't resist tasting the forbidden fruit. When she took your bubble of nerves in her mouth she couldn't believe her ears. "Nat" came a sob from your throat she let she teeth scrape over it just to check she wasn't completely mad "Natasha" now it was a full blown moan, she smiled getting more and more bold with her movements.

She kept on licking away on your cunt and thankfully to her many years of experience with the girls in college she had you trembling towards the edge within minutes. She took your clit in her mouth again this time biting down gently, to wake you from your slumber you thought to yourself.

"I- what" poor innocent you were to confused to even grasped what was happening to you you were lost in a haze of mind numbing pleasure until you tried to find to source of it. "Nat-?" you were interrupted by an almost pornographic moan breaking free from your throat. You winded your body on the bed tugging on the restrains before climaxing under her tongue. She made you ride out your orgasm before hushing your quiet sobs. "You're mine baby girl" she kissed your pelvis bone. "Nat we can't" you mumbled "No one needs to find out" She reassured you "Just say no and we'll forget a bout this all, but something tells me, little girl, you want me just as much as I want you"

"You’re right" you mumbled under your breath making Nat smirk she stood up again tugging off your boxers to reveal a dick of a size you had never seen before. Of course you didn't have much experience but she looked inhuman. "Nat it's not-" She hushed you "call me daddy" Instinctively you closed your legs making nat chuckle. "Too big" You mewled again "Oh bunny, I'll make it fit, daddy would never hurt her little girl" she reassured you her hands trailed down her body brushing over the small patch of her which made up her happy trail. She pried your legs open before pushing them to your chest.

She alined herself with you before slowly pushing inside your small hole, bringing tears to your eyes. It felt like her dick suffocated by your tight velvet walls, when she finally did bottom you out she knew it was heaven of earth. She admired the small bulge forming on your lower stomach rubbing over it in an awe.

She waited for you to at least try to adjust before setting a rapid pace giving you no breaks, it felt like she was trying to compare her performance with a machine. I string of moans and whispers left your throat as her hips kept pistoling into your tight heat.

"Fuck" She groaned in between thrusts "I'm gonna fucking breed this little pussy. Wouldn't you like that daddy making you a mommy?" You were too dumbed down to even comprehend her words and the self assigned title made you see stars. "Answer daddy" She commented slapping your tits which bounced with ever vigour truths of her hips. "Yes daddy" you mewl in ecstasy "make me your mommy" You moaned making your step sister grin.

With a few more truths you were both on the edge of ecstasy, especially you saw the stars already. "Cum" she commanded "Fucking cum with me" another sting of curse words left her mouth before releasing her white juices inside of you triggering your own orgasm. After leaving your high she gently rubbed your belly again not dreaming of pulling out from your walls. "mine" she mumbled upon seeing the clear bugle she had formed in your stomach. She freed your hands kissing each of your wrists which made you giggle at the romantic gesture, as if she hadn't just fucked you into oblivion.

She moved you to lay on top of her making you trace the fine lines of her tattoos, she was your step sister but from this night on she was much more than that.

#natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #black widow x female reader #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x reader #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanoff #lesbian smut #lesbian #marvel woman x reader #marvel smut

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bumblequinn · 6 months

Text

hi @sourpatchsquids! thank you for your question.

as an artist with ADHD, i know this struggle very well. unfortunately offering advice on this kind of thing can be tricky, because what works for me may not work for you (and vice versa!). nonetheless, i can try; take whatever works for you, forget the rest, or reshape any part of it as you see fit. :)

but before i offer any actual tools, i have one caveat. i want you to take a moment to reflect and consider if you should be:

changing expectations

the timing of this question seems fated, because just the other day i had a therapy session wherein i expressed my grief and frustration over struggling to work lately due to my seasonal depression. it's not fair that i'm struggling just because it got a little darker outside! i just want the spark i had in the summer! i was so much more consistent!

my therapist's response: nothing about human beings is consistent. we get sick, we get tired, we get hungry and thirsty (and thirsty) and sad and lonely and restless and stressed and overwhelmed. this all gets amplified for folks who are atypical in some way or another.

when my therapist compared our seasonal cycles to those of plants and other animals, who wilt and slow down and hibernate, i protested aloud that i wanted to be a perennial instead. at this she said: even perennials change with the seasons. rose bushes have to be pruned, sometimes down to half their height! it was a dose of perspective i didn't particularly want, but really needed.

so when you're struggling to work through executive dysfunction, burnout, or brain fog, it can help to first check in with yourself about a few things. what do you have the capacity for right now? do you need any accommodation? and if so, what changes you might make to accommodate yourself?

with practice and self reflection, i've learned a handful of specific routines that help me when i'm struggling with creative work, which i'll detail next. note that while your question is specifically about music and i am specifically a musician, i believe that all of these suggestions can apply to most any form of digital creative work.

with that in mind:

#1: work slower

when i'm at the top of my game, i can get a LOT done in a day. but when i'm depressed, fatigued, or distracted, i just can't go full steam. sometimes i'll try to convince myself that i can if i just push harder, but what actually ends up happening is that i'm just fiddling with settings and going in circles rather than moving forward.

instead of that, when i want to work a lot but can't, i try to work slow. how slow? however slow i need to. take four hours to figure out the melody for a single verse. take all day to figure out that drum groove. yeah, i take a lot of breaks in between. who says i have to be my Absolute Most Productive Every Day Or Else? that's the puritan work ethic talking. kill it. be kind to yourself.

i'm reminded of advice i once read about some super successful and prolific author (gaiman? king? pratchett?) who said they wrote only four hundred words every weekday. that's already less than the word count of this post, and i'm only—[travels into the future to check my final word count]... 22.8% of the way through writing it!

now, i don't think i could function that way, because ADHD means some days i'm hyperfocused like crazy, and other days i just have no steam at all (more on that in #4-6). but it seems to me that if even someone highly respected in their profession can achieve what they have with only a little bit of work on a regular basis, maybe i don't have to punish myself for not pumping out a finished work every single week.

doing less work per day means you're much less likely to burn out, which does a lot for working more consistently. if that consistency still doesn't look like a five-day work week, that's okay! as long as it helps you work even a little more often when you want to, it's something worth doing.

however, if you're still feeling truly stuck, all hope isn't lost. you can still try:

#2: switch projects

sometimes the reason i'm moving slow is because of a bad brain day, but sometimes the reason is that i just cannot muster the motivation to do the specific task i'm trying to do right now. ADHD is fueled by novelty and interest, and if i'm not interested in what i'm doing, or it's feeling stale, that's a sign that i need to switch gears.

this is why first it's helpful for me to have more than one project going at a time. this might mean completely unrelated works, or it might just mean related tracks as with the music for a game like SLARPG or susan taxpayer.

the idea here is not to start a dozen different projects and bounce around them like i'm playing whac-a-mole—though i have done that. (i don't recommend it.) the idea here is to have a manageable number of different projects i can be working on so that if i get bored or stuck on something, i have fallback options.

what that number of projects is depends entirely on the week. maybe right now it's two, maybe another time it's three. i would probably be getting carried away if i tried more than that, but that's just my own limit. maybe yours is different. that's something for you to think about.

but it doesn't have to stop there.

#3: switch focus

maybe there is this one project that i just HAVE to work on, but the task i'm trying to do at this stage just isn't coming to me. okay, well, why don't i try working on a different task?

let's say i can't figure out what i want to do with the melody in one part of the song:

what if i try jumping ahead to a different part of the melody? ...no, i'm stumped on melodies today. okay, how about working on the drums instead? ...hmm no, i think i'm just completely tapped out on writing parts right now. alright, what if i organized my tracks, making sure they're all grouped and named in a way that i can work with easily? what if i did a rough volume balance for the mix?

and so on. if that's not enough to shake the off stuckness, i might consider: what can i do to make this project more interesting to me?

what happens if i try using an instrument or effect that i almost never reach for? what if i try sampling something obscure? what if i bang out the drums using my midi keyboard instead of drawing it in on the piano roll?

any approach that breaks me out of my usual habits is bound to get that feeling of novelty and fun back when i need it.

or maybe i can't do any of that right now, and so i take the time to answer a question from a fellow musician instead. i consider that part of my work, too, in a broader sense. check in with yourself and figure out what you can do right now. the rest will still be there later.

but okay, let's say you try switching gears, and switching again, and again, and nothing is moving. you try new approaches, but that wall of awful is insurmountable in this moment. it happens! the next thing you might try is:

#4: learn something new

when you aren't able to make progress on your projects, you can still make progress on your knowledge and craft. i often find this stokes a flame of inspiration in me where there wasn't one before. and even when it doesn't, it still gets my brain out of that feeling of stuckness and dread and into one of thought and action. learning also benefits in the long term because it adds to the well of knowledge from which you draw for all your future works.

for all the awfulness that exists on the internet, it remains an absolute treasure trove of teaching. there's an endless ocean of videos, blog posts, and articles from which you might learn something about your craft. (and if you sail the seven seas, plenty of book PDFs as well. 🦜🏴‍☠️)

it's true that the quality and depth of information out there can vary wildly, but in my experience most resources get at least some things right. and the more you research, practice, and figure out what works for you, the better you will learn to differentiate between the advice worth keeping, and the advice to forget. (that goes for all of what i'm saying here, too!)

that said, since our shared focus is music, a few resources i would highly recommend are:

music theory and composition music matters, 12tone, charles cornell, music with myles, 8-bit music theory, and this introduction by andrew huang

mixing and production dan worrall (especially this series for fabfilter), kush after hours, red means recording, andrew huang, alice yalcin efe, in the mix

general inspiration nahre sol, ben levin, david hilowitz, game score fanfare, posy, jerobeam fenderson, open reel ensemble, and ELECTRONICOS FANTASTICOS!

(if any readers have their own helpful resources for creating music or any other media, feel free to share in the replies & reblogs! 💓)

of course, on an especially bad day, it might be a challenge to seek out information, let alone retain it. that can feel pretty bad, but remember: be kind to yourself. the next thing you might consider trying is:

#5: consume art you love

not just music. books. shows. movies. games. illustration. animation. whatever moves and inspires you.

but do it intentionally. don't just pull up some random thing the algorithm suggested! check in with yourself about what you want (or are able) to engage with right now. choose accordingly. if you get a little way into it and realize it's not scratching that itch, hit the bricks. check in with yourself again. wash, rinse, repeat, until you find whatever it is that speaks to you right now.

and do it actively, if you can. don't just let it go in one eye and out the other! really pay attention to the work. what do you like about it? what are its themes and motifs? what makes it work so well? what are its flaws, and how much do they matter? what might you do differently? you can write notes as you do this if it helps, but even simply noticing and thinking goes a long way.

what you don't want to do is come at this with a lens of shame or envy. you're not here just to say to yourself, "ugh, if only i could do THAT." it's okay if it happens. use that thought as a springboard for curiosity: "well okay, how DID they do that? do i have the resources for it? if so, how could i apply that to my own work? if not, how can i adapt it, or what do i need to learn?" keep your mind open and approach the work with a sense of wonder.

as a creative person, it's very easy to think, "i should be making something right now, not watching a movie!" but that thought forgets something vital: your art is a response in a conversation. of course the "language" you use is your own, and maybe if you're lucky you'll invent a new word. but most of the words you use have been around long before you were born. you're just one voice in a dialogue that spans continents and generations, and that's okay. it's even the whole point.

none of us is an island. we are profoundly social animals. just as we can't live without eating, we can't make without learning. so half of making art is consuming it. consider this part of the process as well.

and finally,

#6: rest, and live your life

let's say you're in really dire straits. you've tried working slower. you tried changing focus, you tried changing projects. you want to take in new information or actively engage with your favorite art, but you're not in the headspace for it. what now?

take a nap. take a walk. take a shower. eat a nice meal, or an okay one. talk to a friend. maybe even do that chore you've been putting off (you know the one).

it's human to always crave making, but you're not a machine—and even if you were, machines need regular maintenance, too! you wouldn't drive a car that's completely out of gas, and you won't do yourself any favors treating your body that way either.

i know that when you take a break it feels as though you're not accomplishing anything, but you are: you're taking care of your animal self. and while you do that, your creative brain doesn't stop working! much like windows, it has countless background processes running at any given moment, with inscrutable names like "cbdhsvc_692da" or "Microsoft Edge Update Service." it's true, i checked.

when you're stuck on a project and you step away to rest, your brain is still chipping away at your ideas unconsciously. i like to tell people, "it's percolating." much like waiting for a pot of water to boil, that idea is still heating up, even when you take a step away. just be sure to check in on it once in a while. the time will pass, and it'll be boiling again before long. :)

before i go, i'll leave you with one last thing to keep in mind as you try all of these strategies:

be kind to yourself.

being human is just about one of the hardest things you can do. let alone being a human trying to survive capitalism while living with disabilities! the last thing you need on top of that is to overwork yourself, talk to yourself negatively, or treat yourself harshly. there are plenty of other people in the world who do that to you—don't be one of them.

i'm not saying that you shouldn't try to challenge yourself, to test your limits and go above and beyond your ambitions, if that's what you want to do. just remember that hard work and self compassion are not mutually exclusive. so be careful not to bully yourself. take pride in the progress you make, even when it seems small. encourage yourself like you would a friend who's going through a hard time. and when you challenge yourself, be your own cheerleader.

i hope you find this advice helpful! remember, this is just what helps me, so don't feel like you have to follow any of it exactly. maybe taking time to learn new information helps break you out of your rut more than working slowly, so you reach for that tool first. maybe having multiple projects going at once is too distracting for you, so you prefer to stick to one at a time. whatever your needs are, feel free to alter and adapt these ideas to fit you.

thank you for reading, and i wish you the best of luck in your creating.

with care, bee 🐦

#adhd #advice #asks #from #sourpatchsquids

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di-girls-dem-sugar · 2 years

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#colorism tw #so i am a lightskinned black person. when i say lightskinned i mean one white grandmother and one lightskinned grandmother.#i was in canada for 4 months (during the winter) and naturally came back pale as hell #i live in the caribbean which means year round sunshine and i LOVE being outside #so when i came back home in the summer i was outside a lot and naturally my skin tanned #i think this is the darkest ive ever been? one of my friends told me this is the most tanned shes ever seen me #this is fine with me #personally ive never been more in love with my own skin tone #but my MOTHER.#see one thing about jamaicans，a lot of them are colorist like it pays the bills #especislly the older generations #and my mother will not stop saying that my complexion is 'ruined' and i need to go back to canada to get white again #like. lady. i already feel like shit because of my acne???#not only that but my sister is darker than both of us... how do you think that makes her feel???#its really shitty #and its crazy bc i saw my gp earlier today (shes nigerian) and she was talking ab the racism she faced in texas #while also saying shes never understood it bc look how beautiful dark skin is??#and then to come home to that... yeah #shut up kayla

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rafecameroninterlude · 9 days

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i found your blog today and i’m so obsessed, i love it smmm! i was wondering if you could do a oneshot where reader finds out she’s pregnant and rafe is so sweet and supportive abt it. like he immediately starts treating her like she’s fragile to the touch and spoils her rotten :(((

- also idk if you do emoji anons but if you do, can i please be 🍓??

warnings: soft!rafe, unprotected sex, pregnancy

“fuck, i’m gonna cum, baby,” rafe groaned, about to pull out so he could finish on your tummy instead. “no, no, please cum inside me rafe!” you cried out, wrapping your legs around his waist so he couldn’t move. “shit- are you sure?” a groan fell from his lips, his hips stuttering as he continued thrusting into you. he grabbed your chin, making you look him in the eyes as you nodded frantically. “yes, i’m sure. fill me up!” your words pushed him over the edge, both of you moaning in unison as he emptied himself inside of you

now, nearly a month later, here you were staring down at two pink lines. you chewed your lip nervously, taking a second test to make sure your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you. sure enough, the pink lines showed up darker than the first ones. “i’m so pregnant.” you whispered to yourself, a smile forming on your lips as you used a pillow to muffle your scream. “no way!” you squealed, freezing once you realized you needed to tell rafe. “oh, fuck..” you glanced at the time on your phone, 4:30 PM. only thirty minutes left until he got home.

you rushed back into the bathroom, grabbing the tests and hiding them in the drawer. your mind was racing a million miles a minute, trying to figure out how you’d break the news. you changed out of your clothes and into rafe’s favorite summer dress, quickly freshening up your hair. by the time rafe walked through the door, you were buzzing with excitement, fiddling with the ring on your finger. “hey, baby.” he pulled you into a hug, his arms swallowing whole. “how was that meeting with your dad?” you let him carry you to the couch, both of you sinking into the cushions with a sigh.

“good, real good,” he nodded. “it was funny, we met up with this family and they had these kids running around. ‘was real cute.” rafe smiled. “that was all my dad talked about on the way home, ‘said he needed to be a grandpa already.” he shook his head. you couldn’t help but gaze up at him. “what do you think about that? having kids?” rafe looked down at you, his eyes growing soft as he traced the curve of your lips. “oh, man. when that time comes, there wouldn’t be no doubt in my mind that you’d be the most amazing mother to our babies.” he kissed your knuckles.

you couldn’t help the tears from welling in your eyes, rafe immediately pulling you against his chest. “what’s wrong, love? was it something i said?” he tucked your hair behind your ear. “no, it’s just.. i feel like i really needed to hear that.” you smiled, rubbing his chest. “you needed to hear me say that you’d be a great mother to our babies?” rafe sounded slightly confused, making you stand up. “stay here, i’m gonna get something.” your heart beat in your ears the whole way up and down the stairs, your hands shaking as you showed him the positive pregnancy tests.

he stared for a moment, slowly taking them from you. rafe was silent for a long time, tears rolling down his cheeks when he finally looked up at you. “oh, my god.” he stood up, hands reaching out touch you as if you weren’t real. “oh, my god, baby..” he lowered himself on his knees, lining his head up with your stomach. he wrapped his arms around you, clutching the hem of your dress as he cried into your skin. “are you happy?” you squeaked out, running your fingers through his buzzed hair. “are you kidding me? this is the best day of my life.” he sniffled. picking you up bridal style, and carrying you upstairs.

“i’ve wanted this for a very long time.” he kissed you, laying you down ever so gently. “we’re going shopping first thing tomorrow,” he kicked off his shoes, “what’s that app you’re always on? picnic? painter?” you laughed. “pinterest, rafe.” he nodded, “yeah that,” he settled in next to you, draping an arm across your torso. “we’ll start looking for inspiration for the nursery, oh! and we should probably tell our families once we’re in the safe zone, just to make sure everything’s alright..” you sighed, tracing shapes into his skin as you shut your eyes momentarily. “thank you.” rafe rested his head in the crook of your neck, “no, thank you.”

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yndrgrl · 10 months

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katsuki bakugo has a glow up during summer break, & now he has a lot of girls' attention

fluff. ooc! bakugo. bits of jealousy. sfw. x reader. acquaintances to lovers. long ass fic.

a/n: the horny content will continue after this message :) also i kinda got nerdy so just ignore my rambles about fighting haha

the whispers & murmurs buzzed like bugs throughout the halls of u.a. you couldn't help but eavesdrop when you heard lower classmen gush about how good katsuki looks, how he definitely had a summer glow up.

it's not that he was bad looking before, that's just not the case. so, when you heard that he somehow got hotter over the span of a few months, you grew curious.

your best friend, ochaco, began to rave about him. "no, you don't understand, y/n. have you seen him yet?"

"i haven't yet, but it doesn't matter! he's still rude as hell!" you told her. "besides, aren't you still going after midoriya?"

"yeah, but i can still appreciate attractive people," she retorted, shoving the rest of her her breakfast-on-the-go in her mouth. you fished your phone out of your school cardigan pocket to change your music when, like a kdrama (or a shitty fanfic), you ran into something-- no, someone.

speak of the devil. "oi! watch it!" the abrasive blonde spun around & met your eyes. his harden glare soften oh so subtly.

"i'm sorry," you quaintly apologized. it's the first day & the first hour of the next 180 days, & you're not going to get in a fight.

"it's whatever, just make sure where you're going next time," katsuki responded. his tone was still harsh, yet what he said was almost nice.

he walked off into the both of yours' classroom, leaving you & ochaco stunned. you both stared at each other, mouths agape. "what just happened?" she finally spat out.

"i have no idea."

"WAS HE JUST NICE?"

a week later, you sat in class, listening to mr. aizawa drone on about something so utterly boring, you'd rather stick your head in a toilet & flush it yourself. you let your eyes wander around the class. for the most part, everyone stayed the same.

then, your eyes landed on katsuki, who was seated by the window. now that you had time to think about it, he did change. his jawline was a tad sharper, his hair appeared more soft, & his shirt clung onto every inch of his upper body. he definitely bulked up during the summer.

his skin is clear, he must've also began caring for a sense of style because his fingers displayed grunge rings, & his eyes were somehow a darker, more alluring shade of crimson. wait, his eyes... were staring at you.

no, he was staring at you staring at him.

god, you felt like a creep. you were expecting him to yell at you, scowl through gritted teeth, but no. he didn't do any of that. he shot you a smirk, then went back to jotting notes.

confusion settled in after embarrassment. you couldn't help that a light pink dusted your cheeks. it wasn't noticeable though, thank goodness.

the subtle, weird antics didn't stop. maybe he's just playing with me or something, you wondered. or maybe i'm looking too much into thinks.

when passing him in the halls, he'd acknowledge you by giving you a small nod-- even if his friends were talking his ears off. he'd hold the doors open for you & only you, but would walk away quickly. he was treating you differently then he treats everyone else, & you don't know why.

"bakugo~" a girl you barely recognized greeted. "you look handsome today!"

he & his friends sat on the other side of your friends' long table. you were the closest to his squad, only three seats away from them. they could hear your conversations, but that means you could hear theirs.

"shut it, & eat your food," he scoffed, rolling his eyes. with his chopsticks, he picked at his bento box.

"ooo~ what did you pack?" she pressed as she inched closer to him. "aww, did your mom make that?"

"no, i did," he raised his voice. she wouldn't take the hint though.

she merely giggled, asking, "could you feed it to me? i wanna try some~" she crossed her arms under her breasts to intensify her cleavage. she was picture perfect, to say the least. any other guy would be drooling at the sight of her.

not bakugo though. he was goal-oriented, focused on the future, & not into dating from what you gathered. a small part of you is bummed out that he isn't interested in romance. he was practically everything you wanted in a guy after all-- just minus the whole "jerk" part.

"what are you looking at, bakugo?" you didn't realize you were staring -once again- until the girl whipped her head around & caught your gaze. her cattish smile dropped into a thin line. "quit staring, idiot-"

"don't call her that, bitch."

both yours & her eyes widened at the quickness & unexpected defensiveness spewed by bakugo. he stuck some of his egg omelette in his mouth, unbothered.

"wh-what? i don't think i heard you, bakugo."

he swallowed his food, ran his tongue across his top teeth, and started to pick up more food with his chopsticks, reiterating, "don't talk to y/n like that, got it?" he put the food in his mouth.

she scoffed, humiliated. "i have to leave," she said, voice dropping at least an octave. your eyes trailed her as she sat with her friends, & they immediately began gossiping. how could you tell? the way they all looked back at you with a nasty expression on their faces.

you returned your attention back to bakugo, who had both your friends & his friends floored with what just happened. "thanks for that," you started. "you really didn't have to do that."

"i know i didn't, but someone had to shut her up."

you replied, "i mean, i'm sure there was a nicer way."

"i tried," he told you with that small smirk on his face again. "she didn't get the hint, i have to be more obvious."

"yeah, in more ways than one," a friend on his side, sero, snickered.

"hey, what's that supposed to mean?!" classic katsuki, reverting back to yelling.

ever since that happened, your friends haven't stopped talking about it since. "guys, c'mon. it's almost been a week," you groaned. you were all getting ready in the school locker room to do hand-to-hand, no quirk combat with a celebrated instructor.

"i think bakugo likes you~" ochaco teased in a sing-songy voice.

you tried to reason, "maybe he was just annoyed with her, & it has nothing to do with me."

"i don't know, y/n," momo laughed, pulling her hair into a ponytail. "he seemed pretty into you."

"no way, not bakugo-"

"well, why not bakugo?" mina, who just so happened to be good friends with said man, asked while she slipped on her shoes.

"because we all know what he's like. he doesn't really scream the dating type, you know?" you grabbed a water bottle & locked your back into your locker.

mina shrugged, & ochaco said, "you said one time that bakugo was the closest to your type... do you like him?"

"WHAT?"

the rest of the conversation was cut short when tsuyu pointed out they should be in the training room by now, causing all the girls to scramble out of the locker room.

the instructor, once the bell rang, introduced himself. he was a nice man seemingly. he was a well-seasoned martial artist who knew what he was talking about.

after his brief speech, he had his assistant -a younger, more egotistical guy- be his dummy when explaining a move. "does anyone have any questions?" he asked. no one answered. "cool, find a partner, & try it out."

everyone scurried to find their partners. pair by pair, no one chose you... all except-

"hey you, be my partner," bakugo practically demanded.

"me?"

"no, the wall behind you. yes, you, y/n," he joked, the same smirk only you get to see on his face. this time, however, it was a full-blown smirk.

"are you sure?"

"yeah," he scoffed, dragging you by the arm to an empty space. he studied how your face contorted from surprise to concern. "listen, if you think you're gonna drag me down or whatever, you're not-"

"no, it's not that," you interrupted. you felt your pride inflate slightly.

"then what is it?"

"i just don't want to hurt you."

it was his turn to be shocked. what did you mean by that?

the first hour went by, techniques were taught, & moves were learned. however, now it was the time that really put things to the test: open spar. it was at this time in training when things got heated. everyone in the room gives it their all no matter what, so the atmosphere turns into something animalistic, yet so empowering.

but before that, is a small water break. speaking of water, where did you leave yours? you swear you brought it in. bakugo must've seen how confused you appeared when he offered (or told you), "here, take some of mine."

too thirsty to even care the open-mouthed expressions from your peers, you took the bottle from his outstretched hand. "thank you!" you cheered, taking a few sips then handing it back to him.

"was that even enough? you barely drank anything," he jested. it sounded like he was teasing you, but, again, he said something like he cared about your well-being.

"yeah, i'll be fine. the worst that can happen is i'll faint."

"you better not. i need a good training partner."

"oh whatever, you're getting a good training partner."

suddenly, the instructor boomed, "water break is over! get back with your partner for sparring!"

once everyone huddled back with their partners & got situated, the instructor explained briefly that everyone will be grappling ("no striking" he repeated ten times as well) five minute rounds, switch partners, another five minute round, & so on so forth. "alright got it?"

"yes sir!"

"good," he nodded to his assistant, who got the stop watch ready, "3, 2, 1, go!"

yoy & katsuki go into your stances. one thing about being shorter than him is that, in the game of wrestling, you're at in advantage at first. "don't go easy on me," you told him, it was meant as a warning

"i was just about to tell you i wasn't." the moment he finished, he took a double-leg shot. it was executed near flawless-- emphasis on the near.

you sprawled your legs back, collapsing your body on top of his. you drove your shoulder into his neck, which resulted in bakugo's face smushed against the mat. he might be strong, but no one's neck is that strong to hold up an entire person. you heard him audibly groan "fuck!"

you caught his arm & his head with one of yours. the two of you were on your knees, but your goal was to get him flat, stomach down. with his trapped arm & leg, you pulled him out from under you & quickly sped towards his back. you mounted him, keeping yourself close to his. you gazed up at your instructor, who gave you a knowing nod of approval.

like a good fighter, katsuki sprung his head up. he missed your nose, instead having his skull collide with your cheek. it hurt, but you had to keep going. "since when did you learn how to wrestle?"

"what do you mean?" you thought everyone knew. you swore that you've mentioned it in front of the class.

"you're fucking good, you know that?" he praised as he fought of your hands.

"you're not too bad yourself," you told him before you crossbody locked him.

"no, i'm being serious. you're too damn good. you're gonna be my partner every time we grapple."

you & bakugo, now you call him katsuki, have only grown closer since then. he would take time out of his study session to ensure you understood the material. before he could finish, the library assistant -a girl around your age- would ask if he needed help with anything, shy blush on her face.

other times he'd walk with you back to your dorms when a group of girls would ask for his number.

it was a constant occurrence; girls notice him, ask for something, then ultimately get rejected. it wasn't in a nice way either. he always degraded & humiliated them, but they'd let him because of how handsome he was.

it was a saturday afternoon where you & katsuki got food from a nearby convenience store & sat in the park. no scheduled training or overwhelming amounts of homework. he insisted on paying for you, & who are you to reject free food?

"okay, but i really have to ask," you started, eating your food, "why aren't you dating anyone?"

"i don't know," he simply put it, downing a bottle of a protein drink.

"you do know, you're just not telling me." you actually didn't know if that was true, you were just bluffing.

"fine, i'm just waiting for a some girl to realize i like her," he admitted so nonchalantly, as if he didn't drop a mind bomb.

your mood dampened. he was your dream guy, the more you hung out with him. you might have developed a crush on him, yet you didn't even realize he liked anyone else.

"no way! who?" you had to sound enthused or he would know something was up.

"no one, forget i said anything," he cleared.

"i want to know~ i can help find out her favorite flowers or something so you can confess!"

"really?" he asked, brow quirked. you nodded your head.

"tch, alright. what's your favorite flower?"

that didn't make any sense. "what?"

"you said that you're gonna help me confess, so what's your favorite flower?"

"katsuki, i don't think she has the same favorite flower than me."

"oh my god, you're so fuckin' dense," he muttered under his breath. "i want to know your favorite flower, y/n, so i can confess." his cheeks reddened as he gave you intense stare, studying your expression. it was still confused.

"confess to who-" he cut you off by putting his hand behind your head & pulling you into a kiss. it was gentle, passionate, & truly shocking to you.

"confess to you, idiot," he panted when the two of you pulled away. "i'm already here," he said with a fuck-it attitude.

"y/n, i've liked you for a long time, a really long time. i thought i made it obvious but you never really caught on cuz you're a dumbass or something."

you laughed, & he smiled at you.

he continued, "so then shitty hair told me i had to make it even more obvious, so that's what i've been doing this entire year."

"but all those girls-"

"yeah well i didn't know i was getting a fan club this year. honestly, they don't fuckin' matter though. what matters is you & i," he told you, his face still so close to yours. "so tell me, if you feel the same."

"i-i do," you stuttered out. in your defense, you were not used to such close proximity to anyone, let alone a sculpture chiseled by ancient greeks themselves.

"say it again," he said, voice deep & eyes half lidded. "i need to hear it again."

"i do, katsuki," you repeated per his request. "i really, really like you."

he pulled you into another kiss, & you both felt each other smile. it felt right.

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loveshotzz · 8 months

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All I Really Want Is You

older!neighbor!widower! steve x fem!reader chap nine/ten - a slow burn series of blurbs - updated every wednesday

Ask Me What I’m Thinking About

summary: Baseball can be a dirty game.

wc: 8.3k

warnings: 18+ some drinking, semi public fooling around (in a skybox), steve gets a little too worked up teaching you the rules of the game😏 (slight daddy kink)

authors note: I can’t believe we’re at the second to last chapter 🥺 thank you to everyone who’s been reading and all your sweet words this whole series, you guys really are the best 🧡

🌇 <- chapter eight

The Masterlist / The Playlist / The Tune:

The kiss lingered on your lips for days after the Fourth of July. A week at work lost in daydreams about the man that tasted like lemonade and stole your breath under fireworks at the lake. Fingertips trace the places graced by his lips to try and keep the feel of them fresh in your mind, impatiently counting down the days till you see him again.

You tug at the bottom hem of your sundress standing at Steve’s front door. It’s shorter than you’re used to, and the shade of red it was could never be found in your wardrobe until earlier this week. You’d fallen victim to an after work shopping trip with a coworker who had persuasive opinions that had you feeling confident when you looked in the long mirror of the fitting room. Her words ringing in your head like a mantra as you take a deep breath before knocking. Somersaults and cartwheels in your stomach, you wonder if it will always feel like the first time.

Bandit’s loud bark makes your cheeks push up in the kind of smile you usually only give to Steve. The sound of long nails scraping excitedly on the other side of the door followed by his owner's deep bellow of his name only make it grow more. Butterflies take flight when you hear the click of the lock, another tug and a second deep breath.

“Bandit stop- Hey - oh wow, baby.” Standing there with the door half open, Steve drinks you in with hungry eyes. They roam up the expanse of your thighs, licking his lips when he sees how dangerous a strong breeze can be. “You look - wow, you look beautiful.”

It feels like summer heat on your cheeks, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth as you try not to beam. Maybe Jenny from work was right. Your eyes are just as greedy as his when you notice the tight fit of his jeans, and the white cubs jersey with the top two buttons undone. It makes his tan darker, along with the crisp tank top underneath. The silver chain around his neck catches in the sun from its place of the soft patch of chest hair that you’re realizing is always on display. His feet are bare and it makes you shift from side to side like it’s something intimate.

“You look very easy on the eyes yourself Mr. Harrington.” You giggle and it makes him blush a furious red all the way to the tips of his ears.

Bandit whines impatiently behind Steve, his nails tapping against the wood floor.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. She’s coming in, calm down.” He opens the door a little more, turning around with one hand on the handle to usher the dog back to let you in. Your eyes catch his last name patched onto the back of his jersey like it's official. The realization that it probably is intimidates you.

It almost smells like the last time you were here, the rich cedar undertones are met with a hint of Bandit when you cross the threshold. He gives you a loud excited bark for good measure before his owner cuts him loose, shutting the door behind you. Steve doesn’t even try to stop him from jumping when you welcome him with open arms and a high pitched “hiii, handsome!”

Steve rolls his eyes dramatically when Bandit whines licking your face, but the smile he can’t fight gives him away.

“Alright, that’s enough. I didn’t even get my kiss yet buddy.” Steve chuckles, snapping his fingers making Bandit fall back on all fours in a huff.

I didn’t even get my kiss yet.

The words make your breath catch in your throat, Steve was going to kiss you again. He was just going to do that now, whenever he wants, and you’re gonna let him.

“Gettin’ jealous or somethin’ Steve?” You tease trying to hide the way he sets your skin on fire when his darkened eyes look at you like that.

“What if I am?” His voice drops to something new, something dirtier and it makes your thighs clench.

One of his hands finds its way to where your dress sinches and smooths out at your waist, while the other rests against the wood behind you. He takes the few steps that have your back pressing against the door, fingers squeezing softly at your side before he reaches up to cup your cheek in the warmth of his palm. Looking down over the sharp line of his nose, the pad of his thumb traces the sticky silk of your glossed bottom lip. He wonders what flavor it is today, he can’t wait to find out.

“I’d tell you to do something about it then.” It’s a little shy the way it comes out just above a whisper, meeting his gaze from under your lashes.

His nose brushes with yours, the mint from his toothpaste fanning cool against your cheeks. Needy fingers find their way to his belt loops giving him a gentle tug closer and it makes him grin, you let his lips be a phantom against yours, impatience winning when you pull him in.

It’s gentle at first and it feels like fireworks at the lake, like the butterflies from your first date. It’s when your hands slide up his chest and wrap around his neck that he presses his weight against you. His thumb pulls at your chin begging you to open up for him while his knee pushes its way between your legs. A week of being kept apart with nothing but thoughts of this has your tongues meeting greedy in the middle when you get lost in it. Spoiled with it. Noses press against cheeks and he can taste the tangerine that coats your lips in a sticky sweet mess.

He groans when you bite at his bottom lip, thick eyebrows marrying in the middle when he kisses you harder, his knee getting a little bolder, getting closer. He can feel the heat that radiates from between your thighs like this and he curses at how short your dress is. Were you trying to kill him? Irrational jealousy pangs in his chest at all the guys that’ll get to look at you like this today. Guys your age.

Bandit barks at something he sees outside making you both jump apart. Even with kiss bitten lips and a little dizzy from the lack of oxygen, you already miss him. He laughs quietly, pressing his forehead with yours the golden specs in his mossy eyes gleam feeling like a teenager again. All he wants to do is kiss you.

“I’ve been thinking about doing that all week if I’m being honest.” Steve confesses, long fingers finding yours, lacing them together like he needs you.

“I was terrible at my job this week, and it was definitely your fault.” You grin looking up at him like you love it.

The two of you stand there for a minute letting your eyes take in features that had started to soften in your memories. He smiles before bumping his nose with yours one more time, stealing a quick peck pulling away before you have a chance to kiss back smirking at your small pout.

“Let me get my shoes on and we’ll get out of here. We’ll get some dogs at Wrigley.” Steve calls over his shoulder, ruffling Bandit’s head on his way up the stairs.

“Dogs?” You snort under your breath so he can’t hear, your fingers finding their way back to Bandits fur scratching him behind his ears. You swear he’s smiling when he pants looking up at you with big friendly eyes.

You gaze towards his kitchen as you try to catch the breath he took with him up to his room, the memory of your almost first kiss feels like a lifetime ago. It’s not long before Bandit takes advantage of Steve’s absence, snorting playfully before he trots to the living room. Long nails click against the wood floors when he comes back making your heart swell when the stupid dancing banana you won at the block party sits in his mouth. Its stitched eye is already half gone, and an arm just barely hanging on.

“This your banana, cute guy?” You coo with a sweet smile, reaching out to accept his invitation to play tug of war with the plush toy.

You’re a mess of giggles when he starts ‘growling’ at you and trying to rip it from your grasp, pulling you forward every so often when he pushes back on his paws for an extra hard tug. Too lost in your own world, you don’t notice Steve watching from the top of the staircase. The necklace he bought last week burns a hole in his pocket, especially seeing you like this. He knows he’s already in love and it makes him want to laugh. Classic Steve. The hushed conversation he had with Eddie on the phone in his room lights a fire inside him.

“It’s a necklace, it’s not a ring Steve. I stopped waiting around for the ‘right’ time and now I’m tryna start a family with the love of my life. What sign are you looking for, big guy? She’s seen your darkest parts and she’s downstairs waiting for you.”

You looked too pretty in that dress not to be his.

You finally get the toy away from Bandit, throwing it far enough for his paws to slide in place for a second before he takes off after it. Too busy laughing at the way he shakes the toy from side to side when he finally gets it between his teeth, you don’t hear Steve come up behind you. The fresh spice of his cologne hitting your nose gives him away first, the big hands that grab at your waist to pull you against his chest, the second.

“Missed me?” He teases, pressing a kiss behind your ear that makes you shiver. He likes that he can do that.

“Not really, I was having a pretty good time with Bandit actually.” He can’t see your shit eating grin, but he knows it's there.

“Not even a little bit?” He presses with a smirk in his voice, his lips ghosting against the exposed skin of your shoulder. You can’t help but tilt your head, giving him more to kiss.

“Maybe,” You tug your bottom lip between your teeth, lashes fluttering when there’s a gentle nip at the dip of your neck. “Maybe a little bit.”

Steve smiles against your skin, humming in approval at your admission keeping you close for a few more minutes, and you realize you’d be more than happy to just do this the rest of the day.

“Before we head out, I uh - “ He clears his throat, going a little stiff against your back as he starts digging in his pocket, “I got you something.”

You feel the way his hands shake, and it makes you want to turn around but the grip on your hip only tightens to keep you in place.

“It’s easier to give it to you like this.” He mumbles, giving you a reassuring squeeze, your heart thumps wildly in your chest.

“Steve what are you -“ Your sentence dies on your tongue when you feel something dainty and cold wrap around your neck. Your fingers reach up instinctively and the tips of them meet the smoothness of a stone that dangles at the end of it. The necklace.

“I couldn’t help myself, I hope it’s o - you just said you liked it and -“ Steve’s a mess of nerves behind you while you look down, fingers toying with the stone, awestruck at the gesture. “If you think it’s weird I can -“

Turning around you cut him off with your lips, tangerine gloss in the form of appreciation makes him smile into the kiss. You keep it short this time, pulling away no matter how much your body screams for more. You start to think you’ll never have enough. Is this what it’s like to be in love?

“Steve, I love it” You whisper rolling back on your heels, your fingers already obsessed with touching the stone as you look up at him through your lashes. “Thank you.”

His cheeks turn to cherry blossoms, all the tense muscles in his shoulders relaxing, Eddie was right.

“Yeah?” He wants to hear you say it again, and he can tell by your grin and the glint in your eyes that you know he does too.

“Absolutely, I’m probably never going to take it off.” You giggle looking down in admiration again and it makes Steve feel like a million bucks. He never wants you to take it off either.

Steve doesn’t hesitate to grab your hand as you walk up to the main gates of Wrigley Field, fingers intertwining like he doesn’t want to let go when he shows the security guard his work badge and you suppress the urge to grab it from him when you make it inside. The urge to see the picture lessened knowing that the chances of it actually being bad were slim to none.

The stadium is intimidating when it’s empty, your mind reeling when you think of what it’s going to be like in an hour when the stands are filled with screaming fans. Concession stand workers bustle around the two of you in preparation for the onslaught of sports goers. Summer hangs heavy in the air with the sun high and bright in the cloudless sky. It smells of fresh cut grass, pop corn, and hot dogs. The perfect day for a baseball game.

Your eyes grow wide when they land on the bright green field that looks even bigger than on TV, it’s the kind of green you know can’t be real with crisp white lines that lead to each of the bases. There’s a few players out practicing, they wave at Steve when they notice him. His fingers squeeze yours tighter when one of them smiles a little too friendly in your direction. The memory of you in his car on the way here admiring the necklace in the visor keeps his jealousy at bay. You were his.

“You gonna give me the grand tour or somethin’?” You ask with eyes unable to focus on anything in particular, still mesmerized by how big it all was while the two of you head in a pointed direction.

“Just grabbing something out of my office for Richard, and then I’ll show you around.” Steve winks and the gesture makes your knees weak.

“Ooo I get to see your office?” You grin, bumping shoulders. It makes his cheeks push up.

“It’s nothin’ special, baby.” He chuckles, letting go of your hand, fingers curling around your hips to pull you into his side instead. Your heart skips a beat, looping your arms around his waist, still not used to his affection coming so effortlessly like he’s been doing this his whole life with you.

It feels like a maze while he leads you through the stadium, twists and turns down long back hallways, tight lipped greetings every time someone walks by throwing him a ‘Steve’ with a nod of their head. Their curious eyes always land on you tucked under his arm. Who is that? Your palms sweat at the thought of how Steve was going to introduce you. The gift around your neck makes your mind wander.

It’s when you get to an elevator that you decide there’s definitely no way you’d be able to find your way out of here alone. More than confused when the back of it is all windows overlooking the opposite side of the field you had come in from. Steve laughs from behind you as if he can read your mind, big hands finding their way to the metal bar, caging you in with your back against his chest.

It takes you to the very top with a loud ding before it drops a little and the metal doors slide open. He doesn’t let you get too far before he takes your hand again to lead you down a hallway. The white walls are lined with awards, plaques, and framed Sports Illustrated covers filled with faces of different baseball players, some you recognize and some you don’t, as you make your way to the very end. You try not to make eye contact with the few men who have their doors crack half way open.

“Just gotta find the plans for next season really quick, then we’ll go see Eddie’s guy Antonio. If I don’t buy hot dogs from him specifically, I’ll never hear the end of it.” Steve rolls his eyes at the last part but you catch the hint of a smirk playing at the edges of his lips as he unlocks his office door, pushing it open to let you in.

“I’m startin’ to think Eddie might be your boyfriend. Were you talkin’ to him in your room earlier? Does Peach know?” You tease looking up at him as you brush past, and you’re not surprised when the smell of cedar hits your nose again. The faint hint of cigar smoke creeping in underneath. Of course his office smells like him.

Steve’s eyes go wide, cheeks flushing pink when he realizes he wasn’t as quiet on the phone as he thought.

“I was just - I was just following up with him on something about my trip out there in a few days.” He stammers, making you giggle. You try not to think about the news of him leaving again so soon.

“Yeah, whatever you say, handsome.” You grin and it’s his turn to roll his eyes at you, the whites of his teeth showing in spite of himself.

“Ha ha, very funny.” He dead pans before making his way around his desk that just looks like a bigger version of the one in his house. An actual desktop replaces the sleek laptop. He clicks the mouse harshly before his long fingers work the keyboard.

It’s hard to tear your attention away from him but your curiosity gets the best of you. His office is huge, you think. Maybe the size of your whole apartment kinda huge, and it's just as nice as you thought it would be.

A giant window that overlooks the entire field takes up one whole wall, walking over you realize you’re so far back that it makes the grown men out there look small. Your chest tightens when you see how high up you are. The rest of the walls are decorated with similar pictures like his office at home, group shots of work retreats, team building dinners, shaking hands with people you’re sure are important in the sports world and he looks handsome in all of them.

There’s a baseball bat propped in the corner, and the image of him on his bluetooth swinging it around in his office while making a deal, makes a home inside your head and the dough of your thighs press. Glancing back over your shoulder at him, he’s too lost in whatever he’s searching for in his emails to notice the smirk on your face, his bright eyes squinting at the screen.

It’s heavier than expected when you grab it, the weight of it making it feel like a weapon in your hands. You do your best to remember what you’ve seen a few times on TV as you try to grip it how a real player would, before giving it a sloppy swing, your wrists almost giving out on the curve.

“Honey, you’re holding it all wrong.” You can hear the way he tries to suppress his laugh, the sound of his shoes hitting the carpet telling you he’s coming to assist.

“Oh yeah, Mr. Big League?” Regripping the wood again, you try your best to ignore him when he stops behind you, determined to do it without him.

“These nicknames, you need to stop. They aren’t very good.” He snorts, referring to the previous classic ‘Mr. Sports’.

That’s when he gets it. The first eye roll of the date. He thinks the first is always his favorite.

“I think it was the nicknames that got me the second date.” Grinning like an idiot you take another terrible swing.

“Jesus Christ, you’re gonna break your wrist.” The laugh he was trying to hide earlier comes out when his arms wrap around you from behind, big hands over yours holding the bat steady and it makes you forget how to breathe for a second.

Steve’s arms cage you in and it feels like he’s everywhere. The mint on his breath still smells fresh when the side of his face presses against the top of your head, hot breath fanning across your cheek. The muscles in his stomach twitch against your back, while the ones in his arms tense, squeezing you close as his fingers move over yours helping you tighten your hold. You can barely see your hand underneath his and your stomach flips at the sight.

He’s talking but you can’t focus on the words he’s saying, not when you can see the way his Adam’s apple bobs from the corner of your eye. The stubble on his jaw rubs against your temple as he tries to explain the proper stance on deaf ears. Pine form his body wash lingers on his skin, he overwhelms your senses but all you want is more. You can feel it in the way your body leans into him, the curve of your ass shameless against his denim.

“Okay, so that’s the grip. Now your stance, it’s all wrong.” His mouth is closer to your ear, lips ghosting along the shell of it demanding your attention. It’s as if he knows he doesn’t have any of it and all of it at once and you swear he gets closer, a subtle grind of his own hips in response to yours.

“I’m listening,” you say breathlessly. It gives you away, making his lips curve up into a smirk.

“I’m sure you are, baby.” The tip of his nose nudges behind your ear, while his fingers make a path down your arms, the pads of them dragging gently against your heated skin, callouses leaving goosebumps after them. Your breath catches before they curve around your sides, squeezing at where the dip of your hips meets the top of your thighs.

“Now, you wanna push back your hips a little.” His strong hold moves your body with ease, making your ass press hard against him and you feel that part of his body for the first time. His heart is beating so fast you can feel it. Thump, thump, thump.

“Like this?” you ask, innocence dripping from your tone. When you grind against him with more pressure you can feel just how big he really is – especially as his jeans begin to tighten.

“Fuck - baby.” It comes out a little desperate, like he’s warning you but his hold only tightens keeping you in place. “Yeah, just like that.”

It’s his hips that roll this time, and it makes your eyes hit the back of your head. Your fingers threaten to come loose around the bat, too distracted by the man behind you. Especially when his lips ghost a path up the side of your neck, hot and wet.

“I think it’d be easier if I could have something to lean on, you know? I just really wanna teach you right.” He nips at your earlobe and it makes you shiver, pressing yourself back against him hard enough to feel the zipper of his jeans between the fat of your ass cheeks.

“You’re the professional, who am I to say no to you?” You knew you were laying it on thick, but the groan it earns makes you swallow your pride with a press of your thighs.

You squeal when he yanks you back, dropping the baseball bat to the ground with a low thud. Your giggles fill the usually quiet office and he wishes he could have you here all the time. He takes a couple long strides backwards before he hits the front of his desk, pulling you onto his lap as he sits on top of it. His hands get greedy when they reach around to grab at the tops of your thighs, the material of your dress bunching up underneath them, revealing more new skin to him. He wonders if you can feel just how hard you already have him.

“Despite not watching, like, any sports, something tells me this can’t be right, Steve.” You smirk, another giggle slipping out when you feel his smile against your neck.

“Like you would know.” He scoffs, his hands find their way back to your hips, encouraging another roll from them. The little gasp he earns makes him twitch in his pants. “Yeah?”

You nod with a ‘mmhmm’, eyes closing when he does it again. Tangerine on your tongue when you suck your bottom lip between your teeth, your hands finding a home on the tops of his thighs. You grind against him like you mean it, like you’re not playing along with whatever game this was before.

“God, - shit, baby, this dress. This fuckin’ dress. Do you even know what you’re doing to me?” His lips get sloppy on your neck, tongue and teeth nipping on sensitive stubble rubbed skin.

Knock, knock, knock

You both jump at the same time, hearts hammering in your chests. The feeling of being close still makes your body buzz at high frequencies as you try to recover from the last five minutes.

“Steve?” The familiar voice is muffled behind the closed door.

You watch Steve readjust his pants to try and hide the obvious, a nervous hand running through his hair before he answers. You make him feel like a fucking teenager.

“Hey Richard,” The husk from Steve’s voice is gone as he looks at you to make sure you’re ready for company.

Tugging the hem of your dress down, you pull the straps back onto your shoulders giving him a quick nod, cheeks burning and underwear a mess.

“Come on in.”

Richard strikes again.

Steve takes one last look at you, dark eyes that eat you alive while his tongue rolls in against the inside of his cheek. Eyebrows marry together in a mixture of annoyance and lust when he realizes just how close he’d gotten to everything he wants.

The door creaks and it wouldn’t be so loud if it wasn’t so quiet. A tentative Richard steps into the room, brown eyes looking back and forth and you wonder if he can tell he interrupted something. You try to control your breathing, turning towards the window after you give him a friendly smile to try and hide the way your chest heaves.

You hate Richard.

“So we meet again.” He jokes trying to break the ice. Yeah, he knows.

Steve gives him a tight lipped smile pushing himself off the desk with another hand through his hair, the soft thuds of his shoes filling the beat of silence as he walks back behind his desk.

“I was just finishing printing out those spreadsheets for you.” Steve clears his throat and it makes your lips twitch, your eyes getting lost in the green field below you.

You can’t bring yourself to face his boss like this, again.

“Great! I’ll take them now. I was just coming up here to see if you and your lady were coming to the pre-game drinks at The Barrel Room downstairs, some of the guys wanna run some things by you.” You can hear Richard scratch the back of his neck when Steve doesn’t answer immediately.

Steve wants you alone. Now.

“You know I hate to mix business with games, but they really wanna meet the guy behind the marketing.” He adds, telling Steve it’s really not an option to say anything other than ‘yes’.

“Sure, sure. The game doesn’t start for another hour anyway.” Steve gives, and you meet his eyes from over your shoulder with a small smile that says it’s okay.

Despite the no smoking sign, the smell of cigars linger on most of the men in the members only bar under the field. Your summer dress feels out of place in a room full of business men dressed in their expensive casual attire. Their expensive cologne mixes with the sting of whiskey that’s over a sphere of ice in most of their glasses. Lit by a dimmed chandelier, small TV’s line the space over the bar with live feeds of the field and ESPN. The nicest sports bar you’ve ever seen.

Steve keeps a tight hold on your hand when he orders you both glasses of champagne and a bottle to be delivered to the suite, winking at you when he picks the sweet option.

“I’m sorry, honey, I didn’t think I’d be doing anything for work today.” He lets go of your hand to wrap his arm around your waist pulling you to his side. His soft lips kiss your temple as a second apology.

“It’s fine, it’s actually kinda hot seeing you like this.” Looking up at him from under your lashes, you love the way it makes the tips of his ears turn pink.

“Oh yeah?” He grins, the green in his eyes threaten to turn black when his hand slides a little lower, the tips of his fingers touching just above the curve of your ass. They twitch with the urge to squeeze.

“Yeah.” It’s quiet, just for him to hear, dripping honey like in his office. You turn your body towards him, pressing yourself closer with a palm running up his chest, fingers playing with buttons when you bite your bottom lip into a smile.

The low groan you get vibrates from his chest, his hand daring to go a little lower, pulling you even closer.

Clink, clink

The bartender slides the two flutes over, popping you both out of your bubble right as someone clears their throat behind you.

“Steve, they're over there in the corner. They just need maybe ten minutes of your time and then I’ll get out of your hair.” Richard’s voice breaks you two apart but Steve still keeps a hand on the small of your back as he hands your glass over, the popping and fizzing of the bubbles inside making it shimmer rose gold in the low light.

“Sure, I’ll follow you.” He takes a sip before bringing his eyes back to yours, the blunt ends of his nails scratch lightly against your back, giving you his undivided attention. “You gonna be okay for a little bit?”

“I’m a big girl, handsome.” You smirk around the edge of your glass, all the blood rushing to your cheeks when he looks at you like that.

“I know you are, baby.” The smile that takes over his face knocks the air out of your lungs. Steve presses a kiss to your forehead before he follows Richard to the two men across the room who are looking eager to meet the man you can’t get enough of.

Ten minutes turns to twenty and another glass of champagne, your eyes meeting Steve’s every so often across the room in a silent apology. This second glass is enough to make your skin come alive, fingertips buzzing and nerves melting. The bubbles tickle your lips when you take another sip, the strap of your dress falling down your shoulder at the same time.

Licking your lips, the sweetness of your gloss mixes perfectly with the fruity hints of the champagne and it makes you give a quiet ‘mmm!’ when it hits your taste buds. Setting your drink down, you can feel him staring as you fix your dress. Your fingers wrap around the soft material, and you dare to meet his eyes again. The green forest you’re so used to getting lost in is replaced by the kind of darkness you’ve only seen in the night sky, the kind where the moon hides the stars in its depths. The men surrounding him are talking but he’s not paying attention, his sole focus is on you.

The two glasses of champagne makes you feel bold. Holding his stare, you move slowly when you pull it back to its home on the top of your shoulder. Soft fingertips drag across your skin, leaving the kind of goosebumps he usually gets and it makes his jaw clench. He needed to get out of here.

He knocks back the rest of his glass, saying something to the men that have stolen enough of his time from you. He finally excuses himself with a few strong handshakes and that million dollar smile. The one that always makes your thighs press. Running a hand through his hair as he pushes through the crowded bar, his eyes stay locked on yours, heavy lidded and hungry and it makes your stomach do flips.

“Ready to pay attention to me?” You pretend to pout when you turn around to face him. When you lean back on your elbows he can’t help but take in everything you’re offering him.

Big hands grab at your waist, pulling you against his chest. He’s got a lopsided salt and pepper grin when he dips his head down to skim his nose along your jaw before his lips stop right at your ear. They twitch when he feels the way it makes you shiver.

“More than you know, baby.”

The suite is somehow even nicer than you’d imagined it’d be, the kind of nice that makes you giggle when you take it all in. Flat screen TV’s hang from two separate places on the exposed brick walls. The bottle of champagne he’d ordered earlier sits chilled in a bucket on the marble countertop in the small kitchen with two glasses. The stainless steel fridge that you’re sure is fully stocked shines in the bright, low hanging lights.

The open concept leads to a living room area, a dark gray leather couch sitting in the middle looking way too comfortable for something like this. It faces a giant window that overlooks first base, high enough in the stadium for no one to be around you and gives out to a balcony with four seats to watch the game outside.

“Jesus Christ.” You laugh wandering around the new space, fingertips touching the cool leather of the couch as you look at one of the TV’s that hang over it. A crystal clear image of the game getting ready to start just outside. The empty stands were completely filled while you were busy in the boys club downstairs.

“Yeah, it’s a little ridiculous.” Steve chuckles, the loud pop of the champagne being opened echoes in the big space. “I never watch games in the suites. Me and Ed are always in the stands. I was actually a little surprised when Richard offered it.”

Maybe Richard wasn’t that bad.

You can hear the way the bubbles fizz when he pours you each a glass, neither of you speaking. The realization you were finally alone hangs thick in the air. No more interruptions. The crowd cheers outside when the announcer booms through the speakers that line the outside of the field. The sounds of the game starting cuts through the tension like a knife. Steve clears his throat behind you, making you jump a little.

“Sorry, honey,” He smiles, trying not to laugh as he hands you a glass.

“Champagne and hot dogs? Steve, I think you’re trying to get me to fall in love with you,” you say, a part of you that feels like it’s already too late. You are in love with him.

“I still can’t believe you asked Antonio for ketchup, shoulda taken a picture of his face.” Steve snorts, cheeks turning pink at your words.

“Normal people eat their hot dogs with ketchup, Steve. I’ll ask for ketchup at every hot dog establishment in this city. I don’t care.” You roll your eyes at him for the second time today, and he thinks he’ll get a lot more of those by the end of the night as you keep sipping your sweet drink.

“I’ll make sure not to be there when you do.” Steve winks smiling over the edge of his glass and it makes you just as flustered as the first time.

“Whatever, it’s a stupid.” You mumble turning back towards the window because looking at him was becoming too much you– fingers twitching to touch him, your lips pouting just to kiss him.

You set your drink down on the coffee table, the buzz from before coming back when the alcohol breaks through the food you had on your way up here. The nerves in your stomach become a mess as you walk up to the thick glass. The game he was supposed to teach you was already in full swing below. The tight baseball uniforms have you imagining what Steve would’ve looked like iand the thought is enough to make the softness of your thighs meet.

Steve sets his glass down next to yours, licking his lips as he gets to take in the way your dress wraps around your curves. You can feel the heat of his stare on you and it makes you shiver, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth. You try to focus on the game and not the way he comes up behind you. He smells like whiskey and summer, the fruity notes from the champagne coming out in the breath that fans down your neck in a mixture of Steve.

“Speaking of rules.” The husk in his voice is back, and the tip of his nose nudges behind your ear. He can’t see the way it makes your eyes hit the back of your head, but he can hear the way it makes your breath catch as his lips brush that sensitive spot on your neck.

“Yeah, some teacher you are. The game, the-“ you stutter when his hands find their way to your hips, squeezing before they move down, long fingers spreading wide over your thighs. “The game’s already started.” You manage to breathe out, giving into him pulls you against him.

He’s already hard again, and he’s barely touched you. The feeling of your body, with only the thin material of your dress keeping his hands from what’s underneath, sends his brain into orbit, especially when he feels the slow grind of your hips searching for more.

“You actually gonna listen to me?” Steve asks with lips so close to your ear that it almost makes you whimper. All you can do is nod, and he relishes in the way your eyelids get heavy when he hums ‘hmm?’ to ask you again.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll listen.” You can’t find it yourself to care how you sound a little desperate.

One hand stays on the curve of your hip, while the tips of his fingers on the other trace over the goosebumps already blooming on the exposed skin of your thigh. They catch the bottom hem of your dress, dragging the soft material up with them. Wet lips leave sloppy kisses along your neck, smiling against the curve of it when he feels the way you spread for him, silently granting him permission.

“So, the umpire is the guy crouched behind the hitter,” He whispers, as he keeps moving up at a pace so slow it almost makes you stomp your feet, tempted to throw a fit to make him touch you. “He keeps track of the pitches, the swings and misses. Three strikes, you’re always out.”

He reaches the lace edges of your panties, and it makes him twitch in his pants. How dare you?

“Fuck - baby.” He dips a finger underneath, tugging the material lightly before letting it snap back against your hip. “You wear these for me?”

“Maybe.” You smirk, arching your back so your ass rubs against him in a way that makes his grip on your hip turn bruising. He exhales a deep breath through his nose to try and regain control.

“Maybe?” He tsks while the hand under your dress gets bolder, the pads of his fingers brushing over the heat between your legs, groaning when he feels the way you’re already soaked through them. “This doesn’t feel like a maybe.”

“I’m missing the game because -“ You gasp when he dares to push them to the side, a thick middle finger swiping through your folds, moaning at how you feel like silk..

“Because?” He practically purrs as he circles your bundle of nerves with a pointed pressure, like he already knows just what to do to make you fall apart.

He feels even bigger pressing hard against your ass like this. Your hips roll to meet the motions of his finger, offering him a little relief when his hips meet yours at the same pace.

“You’re -you’re not teaching me.” Your jaw goes slack when another finger starts circling your entrance, lashes fluttering against your cheeks.

“Well, you’re not looking.” He’s smug, especially when he dares to push the tip of his finger in just enough to stretch you out, earning a gasp.

The crack of the bat meeting the ball makes your eyes snap open. The loud cheer of the crowd is enough to make the ground shake underneath you. Steve uses the distraction as his opening to slide the first two knuckles of his finger inside you. Your hand comes down to wrap around his wrist, a small whine escaping you when he pushes it all the way in. He braces himself against the window when your hips start to roll, helping him work you open. Every movement of his hand brings you closer against him to meet in the best kind of friction.

“See, your eyes are closed, honey.” You can feel his grin when he nips at your jaw, the middle finger on your clit being replaced with the pad of his thumb when he has it join in stretching you more for him.

Opening your eyes is the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do, especially when he already has you feeling so full with just two of his fingers. They flutter open with every ounce of your strength you have left, and he hums in approval when he sees them again.

“Good girl.” His praise makes you clench around him and he’ll never forget it as he starts littering kisses along your shoulders, the strap of your dress falling down again. “Now he didn’t get a home run, but the bases are loaded. Do you know what that means?”

The deep baritone in the way he’s talking to you makes it even easier for his fingers to keep up their pace, coating them in even more slick when it vibrates against your ear.

“No- oohhh,” Moaning when his thumb adds the kind of pressure that threatens to make your knees buckle. He grinds himself against you with a little more force, never this close to cumming in his pants since high school.

He grunts, his cool facade breaking when you meet his hips, circling slow when you feel him push between your ass cheeks again.

“It’s when the hitting team has a member - god, baby, you feel that? So fucking wet.” He pauses so he can hear the mess you're making of his hand.

“There’s a player on every base, so if he can hit it far enough and they can all make it to home base, they’ll gain the lead - You’re so damn tight.” Steve doesn’t know if he can even do what he’s asking of you anymore, too lost in the feeling of the velvet of your walls wrapped around his fingers and what it’s going to feel like when he finally gets to be inside of you.

All you do is nod, the coil in your stomach tightening in a way you’ve never felt before. Your grip on his wrist tightens, and the muscles tense as he keeps working you to the edge. The thrust of his hips against you becomes shameless as he chases his own end.

Another loud crack of a bat catches your attention, you can barely see the baseball as it soars far over the field. Bouncing off of the back wall when no one catches it, the players on their respective bases start making a run for it, making the crowd go wild.

“You gonna cum for me, pretty?” He asks leaving open mouth kisses anywhere he can reach, teeth nipping at sensitive skin while his fingers curl, the tips of them hitting the spot that makes you see white. Your eyes catch the silver around your neck in the reflection of the window and it's enough to make you give in.

“Ohmygod, Steve - fuck, yes, yes, daddy, yes.”

He doesn’t know if it’s how your voice raises a pitch when you call him daddy or if it’s the way you reach behind him shamelessly trying to work him through his jeans, but it’s enough for his own body to go rigid. He moans loud enough to drown out the crowd, and you feel the warmth of his release under your palm. Your own washes over you hard enough to make your legs shake. You clench around his fingers that struggle to keep up their pace, but still relentless in their mission to keep you falling apart for him. You give him another squeeze through his pants and it makes him whine overstimulated against your neck.

The sound of the sports broadcasters vibrates from the speakers of the TV, signaling the switching of teams with the Cubs in the lead for the first inning. When Steve can finally see straight, the realization of what just happened makes his cheeks tinge the darkest shade of red. You made him cum his fucking pants. The day of touching and teasing took just as much of a toll on him as it did you. Your walls still flutter with every twitch of his fingers still buried inside of your heat, and he swears his dick threatens to get hard again.

He’s gentle when he pulls himself out of you, pressing soft kisses with sweet words against your cheek when you whimper a little at the feeling of being empty again.

“How’s my tough girl?” He whispers nose nudging your cheek as he puts your underwear back the way he found it, tugging down the bottom of your dress before turning you around to finally face him.

Your body still buzzes like a live wire, no one making you cum that hard from just their fingers before. The men your age always want to move so quickly. Steve’s eyes are still glazed over with a post orgasm glow, cheeks flushed, hair mused and all you wanted to do was kiss him.

“Feeling like an expert in baseball.” You giggle, and it makes him throw his head back giving you one of those deep bellied laughs you love so much.

You don’t wait anymore, pushing up on your toes - your lips meet his in an explosion of things you want to say but can’t. Not yet. He doesn’t hesitate to meet with the same eagerness, pushing you up against the window with a big hand coming up to your cheek, his thumb coaxing you open with a pull on your chin.

That feeling stayed with you the rest of the day, the two of you attempting to watch the game in between kisses cuddled on the couch and teaching of rules that you claimed were stupid just to get him to scoff. It swelled in your chest the whole car ride home, your fingers fiddling with the stone dangling from your neck and his hand finding a home on the top of your thigh.

You almost let it spill when he walked you to your door, kissing you stupid in your narrow hallway despite the sticky thick humidity. He watches the way you silently battle with the urge to invite him in, and despite everything inside of him wanting to just get lost in you for the rest of the night, he couldn’t have you like that once and leave. So he keeps kissing you by your door until sweat drips from your pores and your dress gets rucked up to your hips again. Promising you his time when he gets back, eyes gleaming with sincerity with his forehead against yours.

Yeah, you were in love with Steve Harrington.

———————————————————————

beta’d by @chechelia thank you ily ♥️

dividers by @chechelia

🌇 -> chapter ten

#my writing #all i really want is you series #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington fanfiction #steve x you #steve harrington slow burn #steve harrington series #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x fem!reader #older!steve #older!steve harrington #Spotify

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theghostofashton · 2 years

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#just finished a run #and it's starting to get warmer here and today there were no clouds it was just straight sun #and i noticed i'm def starting to get a tan from these runs #and that reminded me of last summer when i popped into frame for a couple seconds while my mom was on the phone w one of my aunts #and she immediately goes 'neha why have you gotten so dark'#and last summer i was running a lot too #and i'm someone who gets tan so easily like im outside for 45 minutes when it's not even that sunny and i come home w tan lines #and that comment has not left my brain since she said it lol and it isn't even me being upset that i'm getting more tan #it's like. why did you feel the need to point that out as if it's a bad thing like this is just what my skin does in the summer #and being darker is not a bad thing #and i know exactly what it's rooted in and why she said it too so it's like :/#colorism is a disease and it still runs rampant #and so many brown people of my parents' generation are still like this lol #my mom used to be annoying as fuck about it but she's stopped in the past few years #and overall it's just like. why. why do you feel the need to say shit like that why do you feel the need to judge that #she took one look at me and that was the FIRST thing she said like just ugh #idk why i'm still annoyed by it #i think knowing i'm not going to stop running and i am going to continue to tan just has me like #i wish brown relatives knew how to not comment on our bodies i wish they knew how to shut the fuck up #delete later

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cameronspecial · 2 months

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Ghost Of A Memory

Pairing: Dad!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Loss of a Spouse During Childbirth and Grief

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.9K

Summary: All Rafe wants are memories of his family, but sometimes he has to remind himself that he can't have that.

Masterlist

The warm summer sun glows across Rafe’s pale skin, kissing it so that it will soon tan his skin a darker shade. Laughter fills the air and a sappy face falls on Rafe’s face as his eyes fall on the sight of his wife and daughter on the playground. Hannah is climbing the ladder on a mission to go down the slide again; Y/N is waiting for her baby girl at the bottom of the slide to catch her. Hannah plops her butt onto the plastic contraption and squeals in delight as she zooms toward her mother. He finishes laying out the sandwiches on the plates and calls out to his girls, “Lunch is ready.” Y/N keeps her daughter in her arms, taking them both to the picnic blanket, where their lunch is laid out on it. “Salami, tomato, arugula and garlic cream cheese for me. Cheese and lettuce for Little Lady. And turkey, lettuce, tomato, and Havarti for my love,” Rafe announces, pointing to everyone’s meal as he lists the ingredients. Y/N leans forward to kiss his cheek, “Thank you for getting this all ready, Handsome.” Rafe’s cheeks warm like they always do at the nickname. It’s such a basic nickname, but coming from her, it makes him feel like he can do a thousand backflips one after the other. Hannah throws herself into her dad’s arms with her own thank you directed towards him.

The family finishes their food and Hannah is invited to play ball with a boy around her age. Y/N rests her head on Rafe’s shoulder as they both watch their daughter play with her new friend. “I think we should have another one,” she whispers to him. He beams at the idea and presses his lips to her temple, “I think I would love to have another one. Maybe a little boy with your hair and my eyes this time.” “Hmm, that sounds like a great idea,” she agrees. Hannah lets out a scream in delight, except the longer it goes on, the more it starts to sound like a cry.

———

Rafe wakes up with a jerk into a sitting position. He rubs his eyes with the palms of his hands as he looks around the dark room. Hannah stands in her crib in the corner of the room, rattling against the bars with her cries. Her father swings his feet over the side of the bed and pads over to her. She reaches her arms up toward him and he picks her up. He brings her to his chest, letting her nuzzle his neck. “Shh, it’s okay. I’m right here, Little Lady,” he soothes. He bounces in hopes of providing her with some sort of comfort. He is so tired, yet he can’t go back to sleep because it seems as though Hannah doesn’t want to sleep. He presses his lips against her forehead, “Please, Little Lady, go back to sleep. Daddy is tired.” He tries to see if she is hungry and quickly learns that she isn’t. “What can I give you so you can go to sleep?” he begs, picking up her stuffed penguin. The penguin is rejected, so he tries offering her her blankie. Hannah screeches and throws it on the ground in dissatisfaction. His eyes dart around the room in search of anything that will appease the bebe. Finally, he spots what he thinks is going to cease the crying.

He picks up the fading navy zip-up sweater and wraps it around his daughter's shoulders. The nine-month-old immediately calms, snuggling into the fabric of the hoodie. Rafe sighs, “I know. I miss her too.” He sits in the rocking chair opposite the crib. He looks at the empty spot on the bed beside his, drawing in the figure that should be there for himself. The woman creating a dip in the bed sits up and gives him a lazy smile. “Did she wake up? I don’t know how I slept through her cries. Is she hungry?” Y/N mumbles, standing from the bed. Her footsteps drag against the floor to stand in front of them. He grins up at her, “It’s okay. I figured out what she wanted. It was your Chapel Hill sweater.” He lifts Hannah up a bit so Y/N can see the school logo on the back. “That makes sense,” she agrees. “She’s always been a Mama’s girl.” Rafe chuckles, “So true. I can’t blame her though. She has a pretty amazing mom.” Y/N leans over to kiss her family members and he closes his eyes to embrace the feeling, but just as her skin is supposed to make contact with his, the daydream he is creating for himself dissolves. Instead of the feeling of her lips, he gets a kiss from the wind and he opens his eyes with furrowed eyebrows.

The room is void of any other human being, except for Hannah in his arms. He looks over to the other side of his bed and finds it empty. Likes it has been for the last nine months. The room lacks air and Rafe begins to hyper-ventilate. His immediate thought is to get up to look for the missing link in the room. And then he finally remembers that his dreams can only ever be the ghost of a memory he never gets to make because the love of his life never made it out of the hospital with their baby girl.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming

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uglyducklingofthe2000s · 29 days

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They Wouldn't Understand - LN

Dark fic 18+ - if you don't like this or the warnings/themes make you uncomfortable. I can't stress this enough, DO NOT READ THIS

Summary: Lando starts dating y/n, and despite his red flags, y/n loves him. Lando's not going to let her listen to anyone who tries to get in the way. What do they know?

Theme/warnings: toxic relationship (with Lando), manipulation, purposeful isolation, jealousy, gaslighting, possessiveness, controlling behaviours, smut ;)

naive/innocent/sweetheart!reader

No part 2 requests please - Also bc of this not being my usual content I haven't put the taglist on just incase someone who usually reads my fics would rather not read darker content

Lando wasn't always like this. At least not in his head. He'd watched others speak to y/n and tell her to be careful, to not jump into the relationship head first.

He's only relieved she didn't listen.

By the end of the first 2 weeks he'd got her away from her meddling friends and to Monaco. They're thankfully entirely out the picture after an argument which she spend defending him, then in tears she cuddled up to him while saying she didn't understand and that they just didn't know him like she does.

It's not as if Lando doesn't love her, in fact he loves her so much he doesn't want anyone else involved. Y/n is the centre of his world and he doesn't want anyone to threaten that.

"Baby, I know it's hot. But you can't walk around the paddock like that." Lando states with a frown as he sees her choice of shorts which very nearly show the apex of her thigh and a bralette.

"Really?" Y/n mumbles looking down then sighing.

"You know I just want to protect you...not everyone is going to look at you and think nice thoughts like me...I'd love to see you walk out like that, if I knew other people wouldn't judge you for it." He also hates the thought of any other many seeing more of her body if he can help it.

"I know. I'll change." Y/n smiles lightly genuinely believing that Lando is just protecting her.

Y/n changes into a light summer maxi dress, it might show some of her chest, but Lando will compromise that and maybe he can get her in a jacket later.

"I love this dress. You look beautiful." Lando smiles gently kissing her before he checks the time and sighs. "Time to get going."

Lando and y/n walk through the paddock, Lando keeping a tight hold on y/n and walking with her almost pressed against him. His body very much blocking largely blocking the view of y/n from the front as they walk.

He always wants her close and he always wants to hide her as much from cameras, fans, other team personnel and especially the media.

There's been a few unappreciated comments saying y/n is out of Lando's league or she's not his type by the likes of Alex and George. Not meaning any harm in saying it, but Lando would've liked to throttle them both for the comments. Then there's fans online, and actually they do talk about y/n in such a vulgar way that Lando wants to genuinely protect her from them.

"Lando." Zak greets then leaning around to smile at y/n who is smiling slightly peaking out from behind her boyfriend. "Hi, y/n."

"Hi, Zak." Y/n smiles stepping out a little while Lando clears her throat and kicks into a conversation about the weekend.

Lando won't fault y/n for talking very briefly with Zak. He's not even very fond of her talking to Oscar or Jon unless she's feeling entirely rude for ignoring them. But really he tries to minimise her interactions with anyone else in the entire paddock. Most of the paddock just assume she's quiet.

"Right, we're just getting to my room." Lando states at the end of the conversation when Zak asks what they're doing first. He shifts his hands from holding hers to holding her waist as he pulls her in front of him.

As soon as they get to his drivers room Lando sighs pulling her back into himself and kissing her neck.

"Alright, baby. Where do you want to place yourself for the day?" Lando asks while he smirks a little at her.

"I don't know. Where do you want me?"

"You can just stay in here if you'd like. Out the way so you're not getting trampled by crowds or bothered by anyone." Lando states watching her try to hide her disappointment that he is suggesting she just stay in the unit. "I'll come back and get you later when I've got the seat fitting in the garage. Ok?"

"Ok." Y/n nods, smiling when he kisses her.

"You ok?"

"Yeah. I'm good." Y/n confirms then swallowing. "Thursdays always good quickly."

Lando nods stroking his thumb over her waist for a moment, his gaze almost burning through her.

"You know I'd bring you out to watch us do all the media, but everyone is rushing around and getting in the way and I don't want you getting hurt. Especially with fans, they might try to hassle you and I don't want that. Not after the last time."

The last time being when some fans decided to tell her exactly what they'd do in order to treat her better than Lando does. In ways that had them thrown out and y/n in tears. It worked perfectly into Lando's hands for her latching onto him for safety, but he was too caught up in his rage and doing everything to have the fans ban for what they said. He only noticed after he'd calmed down that y/n had been desperately holding onto him.

Some fans really don't like Lando, and y/n is just collateral damage of that dislike. Plus she's gorgeous and Lando is more than aware he can't let her slip out his grasp. That's why he is so protective of her the way he is.

Lando smiles as he lifts y/n up and puts her into the cockpit of the car and then pushes his helmet down over her head.

She changed into some borrowed joggers and a McLaren t-shirt since she couldn't get into the cockpit wearing her dress and Lando is definitely not mad about seeing her in a number 4 McLaren top and much more covered up.

"How do I look?" Y/n grins through the helmet making Lando smile down at her.

"You look amazing. As always." Lando states only for Will to appear moving to talk to him and catching his attention from y/n momentarily.

Y/n ends up pulling his helmet off and just watching him talk in a pretty intense conversation. It actually goes on a while and a mechanic ends up noticing her looking a little stranded in the cockpit.

"I can help you, love." A mechanic states making the rest of the mechanics grimace since they know not to cross such a line when it comes to y/n.

"Oh, thanks." Y/n smiles but as soon as she begins to shift, Lando has paused his conversation and is looking at the mechanic.

"I got her mate. Thanks." Lando states and wisely the mechanics reads his tone and expression enough to know to back off. Usually Lando is never so seriously or cold towards them but he draws the line with y/n. "Come on baby."

Y/n resists the urge to send a sympathetic but grateful smile to the man and instead just focuses on standing up and being lifted out with the help of Lando before she is placed on the ground.

"You ok?" Lando asks making her smile and nod then kissing him softly.

"Yeah, I'm ok." Y/n nods before Lando flicks his gaze, presumably to the mechanic but she just smiles at him. Her hands sliding around his waist as she hugs him.

Y/n isn't entirely stupid, she knows Lando might be a little more jealous and possessive than other men. But she doesn't really think there's anything wrong with that. Lando is the way he is because he loves her.

"Alright, come on baby." Lando mumbles patting her tummy where his hand had been keeping her pressed back against himself, making sure he had her closely kept pressed to him.

Lando guides her through the garage then switching her to her usual spot somewhat to the side but behind him as he links their hands.

"Are you hungry?" Lando asks making her nod a little. "Go up to my room. I grab us something."

Y/n moves up to his room mumbling hi's and how are you's to staff as she passes, never wanting to come across as rude.

When Lando appears he places down a poke bowl which is one of his go-to meals and she's always more than happy to just stick to his diet.

"I like seeing you in my clothes. Especially in my number." Lando comments suddenly once they finish eating making her smile and look up at him. "I would just always have you in my clothes if I could."

"I like wearing your clothes...even if they're a little baggy on me."

"You look beautiful in baggy clothes." Lando states with a small smirk then holding out his hand for her to take which she doesn't hesitate to take and allow him to guide her over. "But I do like what's underneath the most."

"But what if someone walks in?" Y/n mumbles then swallowing as he pulls her down.

Lando's been hard since he had her pressed against her after he got her out the car. He's already wait for them to eat, but he wants her now and thankfully y/n is always compliant.

"I'll tell them to go away. What do I tell you?"

"No one else gets to see me like that. I'm all for you." Y/n states then obediently moves her own hands down to pull him out as she stands up kicking off his joggers and her underwear before she climbs back onto him suddenly very eager before she sinks down on him. Maybe a little dry but she shudders at a ripple of pleasure from being filled.

Lando is actually patient, letting her adjust and feeling her grow wetter around him before she hums a little as if trying to contain louder noise as she holds his shoulders.

"That's it baby." Lando soothes as she begins to pull up up with the aid of his hands on her ass.

He ends up controlling the pace, pushing her down on himself till his tip is brushing her cervix and then eventually beginning to knock it hard with every thrust as he thrusts up, somehow getting deeper while she tries to contain any noise. After all these paddock units are not made of bricks. She wouldn't be surprised if people can hear them anyway and are aware of their activities.

"Fuck baby, you always feel so good." Lando grunts feeling her begin to sweet him at those words, the lust in his voice having such an effect that it's not long before she's completely seized on him. Feeling his own orgasm be triggered as he slams her down on himself, filling her with his cum. Her so tightly around him that it fills the space and leaves her feeling the pressure of being so full and she can't contain the moan that passes her lips at the feeling. "Good girl."

Lando holds her there for a few beats before gently setting her down beside him.

"Alright baby. let's get you dressed." Lando states after giving himself a bit of a clean up and tucking himself away.

"But your-"

"Next time someone wants to try and touch you, they can do it while you know my cum is leaking out of you." Lando cuts off making her remain quiet as he helps her back into her underwear and then his joggers. Gravity not quite having worked to make his cum leak back out of her yet but she can feel the movement.

"What if someone sees?" Y/n mumbles earning a small smile as he moves his hand to tip her chin up as he leans over, stopping just short of her lips.

"The joggers are black baby, no one's going to see. That felt good didn't it? And you like being full of my cum." Lando states then kissing with a very hot and heavy kiss that she can't even stop herself from melting into. "I want to see my cum all over you later when we're back at the hotel, so don't even think about about trying to clean it up."

Y/n actually feels herself twitch at the thought of what he might have planned later and how she's going to feel when it happens. If there's one place she'd never ever try to deny Lando excels it's in the bedroom, or in this case in his driver's room.

She ends up spending a couple hours being pulled around feeling the cum leak out of her, soaking her underwear which is hardly anything that protects the joggers from at least coating it from the inside along wish the top of her inner thighs where it's dried out too.

When they get back to Monaco, Lando is almost relieved to be able to confine both himself and y/n to his apartment. No interference and no random people trying to get close to y/n.

Though Lando has gone out to have dinner with some sponsors. He certainly was not going to have Y/n dress up nice and be the only woman there playing as eye candy for the men.

"Y/n?" Lando calls out as he returns home. "Baby?"

Y/n appears from the hallway and he feels an instead heat rise from the sight of her eyes bloodshot and puffy.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." She mumbles moving to hug him with a very small but forced smile. "Missed you."

"Baby, tell me what's wrong?" Lando frowns as she sniffles. "Did you hurt yourself? Did someone say something online?"

"No. No. My mum called and said all my friends have been messaging saying that you're a bad guy and that you're going to hurt me and they're scared for me. So she wants me to go home for a bit."

"What did you say?" Lando questions immediately making her swallow. "You're not going back to England just because some fucking assholes think they know what's going on, y/n. What am I doing that's so wrong?"

"Nothing. I don't think you're doing anything wrong." Y/n rambles shaking her head.

"So you want to leave me for doing nothing wrong? You know they're just trying to get between us and now they've pulled your mum in because they think she has the power to get between us in the way they didn't. You're really just going to give them what they want?" Lando questions then scoffing as he steps back. "If you don't want to be with me just say rather than trying to put it into others."

"N-no. I want to be with you. They're wrong. I just want to prove it to them. I want to tell them." Y/n panics trying to move closer.

"If they don't support us then why do you even care about them. Baby, if your mum cared then she wouldn't upset you and make you cry because you're in a safe and happy relationship."

"You're right. You-you're right." Y/n nods feeling her heart thump in her chest.

"Why would you even want to talk to you mum if she's going to be as bad as them? What kind of mum is that unsupportive?" Lando questions making y/n blink a couple times, tears gathering in her eyes and Lando sighs. "Baby, how many times do I have to tell you? All these people they're just jealous that you're happy and they're trying to ruin this?

"I know. I was just thinking about going home. But I told my mum I'd talk to you and you're right." Y/n states then swallowing thickly while Lando sighs gently at her. "I'm sorry. I think they mean it from a good place."

"You wouldn't be upset if they meant it from a good place." Lando sighs softly as he moves closer to her and gently pulls her closer. "I love you, I'm just sick of people thinking they know anything."

Y/n nods then smiling as she loops her hands around the back of his neck.

"I just need you." Y/n smiles then sighing. "Anyway, now you're back. How was your dinner?"

Lando knows y/n is locked in. She's really just dismissed her own mother in favour of him and she's still looking at him with absolute adoration.

He still doesn't want anyone thinking they have a chance so he's not going to chance how he is with her and really he's not going to stop till he's cut everyone who poses a threat out of her life. Family, friends or not.

Y/n is gonna be all his. At any cost to herself or the other people who love her.

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macfrog · 8 days

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hi queenie, love of my life 😌 i’d like to ask the following for 🩵: d’you think there was ever a moment where joel really thought holy shit. she drives me insane… i gotta fuck her. ???

(rly hoping there was 😌)

ily, sister! thanks for the gif. feeling really. normal. about him. right now. oh, yeah. he had his moments. let's get into it.

compensation 1.1k words | duckie's baby shower 🩵 warnings: literally just joel masturbating to the thought of his neighbor. good shit.

she can’t have been older than twenty-five, when she moved in.

hell, she’s not even thirty yet, as it is. she’s too fucking –

you’re too fucking young for him, and that’s the end of that.

at least – that’s what joel’s telling himself, trapped on your front porch. watching you relive the story of the ups driver who almost wouldn't let you sign for his package.

doing his best to keep his eyes on yours, and not the thin tank top you’re wearing.

“…she’s like, how do i know you’re gonna get this to him? i’m like, uh, what the fuck do i want with my boring ass neighbor’s mail? no offense, joel. but c’mon. i’m literally signing for it. anyways.”

you turn, bending down for the box by the stairs, and joel drags his eyes upwards.

his hand shakes at his side. jaw ticks, watching you turn back, the package leaning against your front. your breasts – oh, jesus.

he swallows. his throat feels like carpet burn.

“’s heavy,” you mutter, edging towards him. “rock collecting?”

“mind your business,” joel clips, slipping his hands around the box. the back of his wrists brush against the swell of your breasts, and he stares so intensely at his own address on the label that he hopes it’s burned forever into his vision.

you huff as the weight passes into his hands. a little sigh.

something twitches beneath his belt buckle.

joel sits the box on his hip. “well, thanks for this. and for calling me boring.”

you cross your arms. it only pushes your tits up more. “stay humble, old man.”

he should walk away. right now. he should take his package, and his pride, and the fucking rock in his jeans – and head on home.

but then you slump against the doorpost, one ankle crossing over the other, and say, “s’posed to get pretty hot this summer.”

“’s already pretty hot.”

“hotter, jackass. they’re sayin’ record temperatures.”

“they say that every year.”

you poke at the inside of your cheek with your tongue. the way you always do, when you’re trying to annoy him.

and it’s working.

“actually, uh –” joel shifts between feet, “– i was gonna ask you a favor.”

“mhm?”

his gaze trickles down your figure. each curve and swell of supple skin. the shorts he’s getting a little too used to seeing you in, too used to looking for. your bare legs, and the glow of sun on them.

when he looks back up, you’re smirking at him.

christ, he wants to wipe that smirk clean off your face. wants to twist it into something darker, something…something louder, and filthier, and –

“joel. hellooo?”

you wave your hand in front of his face, and he snaps back.

“huh? oh, shit. sorry – i, uh…” a flush rises like an inferno up his neck. he shakes his head, fighting it off. “yeah. a favor.”

“you good? don’t pass out on my porch,” you warn. “wait until you’re back on your own land to do that.”

he breathes a laugh – panting, almost. “i’m good. i just – i need someone to water my, uh – my plants. i’m outta town next week, visitin’ my brother. if you wouldn’t mind…”

he feels like a fucking moron when he finally meets your eye again.

you blink back at him, frowning. head tipped, looking him up and down. “i don’t mind,” you say, something cautious in your voice, “but i expect generous compensation for my time.”

“compensation,” joel agrees, nodding. he’d do anything to be off this goddamn porch right now. “how about i’ll owe you one?”

“works for me.”

“alright. thank you, again,” he holds the package up, “and, uh – i’ll see ya.”

he’s gone before he hears your response.

too young. she’s too young. you’re so young. goddamn it.

you drive him fucking insane. you and your little shorts, the simper on your face. he swears he could see through the white of your top, two perfect circles where –

oh, fuck.

he spills into his bathroom, a heavy hand slamming down on the valve. the water roars from the showerhead, louder than the blood in his ears.

joel hauls his tee over his shoulders, the fabric peeling from his muscles and crumpling in a damp pile on the floor. he shucks the rest of his clothes off, kicking them to the side, and steps straight into the cubicle.

he looks down, and – fucking hell.

his cock sways between his legs, all rosy and already dripping. he can feel his pulse hammering at his tip; hisses when the stream sprays over it.

his hand lifts, curving around air.

shit, he just wants to touch himself. wants to relieve the ache between his hips. he has to.

he balls his fists against the tiled wall. his head drops low between his shoulders. the water pours down over him, pastes his dark hair in soaking flicks around his face. he can taste the salt of sweat and sun as it slips from his skin.

once. if he only did it once, would it matter? he’s hard now, anyways. there’s a quick fix.

you just – you caught him off-guard. he only went over there to pick up a package. he didn’t fucking know you’d be – oh, christ – he didn’t know you’d be in that shirt. no bra, no nothing beneath it.

he can still feel the plush of your tits on his knuckles. the way they moved as you leant against the doorframe. he can still see the summery shine on your skin.

he thinks about slipping his hands under the hem of your tank. up, up, up, across your smooth skin until he’s cupping them. squeezing them; circling his thumbs over the hardening peaks.

the short breaths from your lips, your smirk melted into a delicate o-shape. voiceless, nothing but whimpering and gasping when his teeth take your nipple.

before he even realizes it – he’s stroking his cock.

and quickly.

he groans, lips turning to his bicep. he bites down on the skin, hard.

he’d slip your shorts down your hips; see whatever slutty little panties you wear. he’d pull your thighs over his shoulders, unfold your sweet cunt and –

“shit,” joel pants, hips stuttering. his fingers splay out on the slippery tile.

you’re so infuriating. loudmouthed and fucking bratty. and he could shut you up, he knows he could. he’d sit you on his cock, wrapped perfectly around him, and fuck you dumb. fuck you until you’re nothing but a sobbing, soaking mess.

fuck you with that scrap of a tank top on. tits bouncing beneath it, the fabric riding higher and higher until they’re exposed.

what a good fuckin’ girl, taking all of him. letting him split you open, letting him fuck you raw. so big he’ll leave an ache deep inside you; so hard that he makes you come three times over before he’s even close.

but – fuck, he’s close, right now.

“c’mon, baby,” he mutters into his skin. teeth gritted; fist so tight the skin threatens to split across his knuckles. “make me come, c’mon.”

it’d dribble from your cunt, and he’d push it straight back in. make damn sure you keep it all in there, make damn sure you’re walking around all full of him. the seam of your thighs slick, semen seeping into your panties.

“goddamn,” he groans, and with a throb, coats the shower wall.

his cock twitches, pulses until he’s empty. the ache begins to thaw.

he shuts the shower off, still massaging his softening dick as he steps back out. he lifts a towel and drags it across his tingling body.

and he swears, when he notices the sun dipping below your roof –

it will never happen again.

#another “short” one from me :) will i ever stop rambling about this man's dick #duckie's baby shower #🩵#mrsmando

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steddieas-shegoes · 2 months

Text

crawl home to you

for @steddiesongfics february song 'work song' by hozier

rated e | 5,223 words | full tags on ao3

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

Steve should never have kissed him. He knew that now.

While Eddie was dying, bleeding out on the ground of their version of Hell, the only thing Steve felt he could do to help him was kiss him. It was quick, just a peck on the lips, lingering only for a moment. Their eyes never even closed.

Steve wanted to take in every remaining moment that Eddie had.

There was nothing else he could do, just hold him, try to whisper comfort that may not have even been heard.

Dustin was yelling to save him, but there was no way to do that. His injuries were too severe, he’d already lost too much blood. Moving him now would just kill him faster and more painfully. Nancy and Robin were trying to hold Dustin back, but their tears were making it harder to maintain any control.

When Eddie was gone, Steve set him back down on the ground.

“We have to get out of here,” he said, biting back the sob he could feel in his throat.

“We can’t leave him! Steve, please,” Dustin begged.

“We can come back for him once we check on everyone else. I promise. I’m not letting him stay here,” Steve lifted Dustin in his arms, ignoring his protests.

******

When they finally managed to sneak through the safest gate, Eddie’s body was gone.

Steve fell to his knees, silently begging any higher power to make him appear.

But Robin’s hand on his shoulder and Jonathan’s voice by his side made him stand up and leave.

He was gone.

He couldn’t even bring his body back to bury it properly.

He’d made another mistake.

******

Nobody moved on quickly, but Steve seemed to feel the most guilt. It was written all over his face anytime someone mentioned Eddie, it was in the way he visited Eddie’s uninhabited grave every weekend to clean it and leave flowers, it was there when he wore the battle vest around town, still bloodstained and obvious.

No one commented on it. Only Robin ever saw him cry over it.

Only Robin knew that part of his guilt was from not saying how he felt before Eddie died.

The kiss was too late and the words were nonexistent, and now Steve had to live with the missed chance.

******

It was a hot summer day when things changed.

It was subtle at first, the sky darker than usual and the air stagnant.

He got ready for his day, skipping the vest since he’d be volunteering and “bloodstains scared the children.”

And then he heard a crash outside, followed by yelling and banging on his front door.

“Steve!” “Open up!” “Code red!”

Steve ran downstairs and threw open the front door.

“It’s time,” Dustin said.

“Now?” Steve asked, incredulous. How had they not had more warning?

They all thought El and Will would be able to sense more of the Upside Down leading up to Vecna’s return, even Dr. Owens had mentioned a possibility of signs for days or even weeks leading up to his return.

How could they all have been so wrong?

“Where are we meeting?” He asked, running through a checklist in his mind of everything he would need to bring with him. Most of the emergency things he planned on having were already in his car, but it helped him keep the nerves at bay to have something to do.

“The cabin. It’s closest to the gate we can use. El’s already there with Will and Hopper getting what they can done. We don’t know how long we actually have.”

“Do they feel him?” Steve had to ask, had to know.

“El said she’s not sure if it’s Vecna or the mindflayer, and Will thinks it’s just the entire hivemind, but yeah. They do feel something. They expected it to be stronger so Nancy thinks something is messing with their connection,” Lucas said.

Steve nodded and told them to load their bikes in his trunk while he finished grabbing some things.

Most of what they would wear was already at the cabin, but he couldn’t do this without a piece of Eddie.

He slipped the vest on and laced up his boots. He put the only ring he had of Eddie’s on his ring finger, the only one it would fit on.

He checked the mirror once to make sure he didn’t look like he was falling apart at the seams.

The black shadows under his eyes and greasy hair would have to be alright.

******

They split up, but differently this time. One group stayed with El, protecting her while she protected the world. One group stayed with Will in the Upside Down.

Steve insisted on being part of the group in the Upside Down.

He carried his nail bat while Robin carried a flamethrower. She had lessons and everything.

Joyce had a rifle loaded with special bullets that exploded into actual flames upon impact, something Dustin and Suzie had cooked up over the last month to try to gain any leverage they could.

Nancy and Jonathan were ahead of them, rifles in hand to fire warning shots if they saw anything before Will felt it.

Will was quiet, but he’d been pretty quiet since he’d arrived in Hawkins.

It was eerily quiet, more than they were expecting. They’d come in thinking they’d be fighting off demobats and demodogs constantly, but so far they were met with nothing but falling ash and the occasional sound of a tree limb breaking.

“Are we sure he’s still here?” Steve finally asked.

“He’s here. I can feel him. He’s just being quiet, waiting,” Will answered. That was the most he’d said all day.

So they continued.

A gunshot went off.

Everyone froze.

Jonathan yelled to them that something was nearby.

“It can’t be him. He’s still too distant,” Will said as Joyce stood in front of him.

“Unless he’s messing with you,” Robin whispered. “He knows we’re on high alert, right? He knows we’re strong and we aren’t just gonna give up. He’s not gonna let himself be known until he’s certain he’s got us in our weakest spot.”

Will nodded. “I don’t think he has that much control over what I can feel, though.”

“He has a lot more control over all of you than you think,” a voice said from to their left.

All weapons were pointed towards it except for Steve’s, who would recognize that voice in any situation, no matter how insane.

“Eddie?” He pushed everyone out of the way and moved towards the voice.

“Wait!” Eddie said from the shadows, barely an outline visible in the darkness. “Don’t come closer yet.”

“Why not?” Steve felt Robin’s hand on his shoulder, comforting and holding him back at the same time.

“I’m not…Steve.” Something in his tone told Steve to actually listen to him, to not push.

“Can you at least let me know if you’re alright?” Steve was scared to actually believe this was Eddie.

Eddie was dead. His body was missing.

If this wasn’t actually Eddie, Steve wouldn’t handle it well. He’d do what he needs to make sure everyone gets out of here, but after that?

Who knows.

Eddie sounded like he was cursing under his breath, which felt like such an Eddie thing, Steve couldn’t help smiling a little.

Maybe the world would end today, maybe he’d die, maybe everyone would die. But right now, Steve felt Eddie’s presence, and that was something worth dying for.

“Okay, this is gonna sound like a trap.” Eddie cursed again. “But I don’t know if I can be trusted near anyone except Steve.”

“Yeah, hard pass,” Robin said as she tugged Steve back. He’d already put one foot forward like he was actually going to get closer. “If I can’t see you, you’re not getting any closer to him.”

“That’s what I thought you’d say,” Eddie sighed. “I just need you to not freak out if I come out there.”

“Why would we-” Steve started to ask as Eddie stepped out of the shadows.

It was still pretty dark, but it was easy enough to see the outline of him.

In many ways, he looked the same, still pale, still long dark curls, still wearing the clothes he’d died in. But there were things Steve noticed immediately.

His wounds seemed healed, which should be impossible. Well, he shouldn’t even be alive, but even still, there should be way more scars covering his face and neck. His eyes were nearly black, not the deep brown they’d been before the life left them in Steve’s arms. When he opened his mouth to speak, his teeth were pointed, sharp.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone. But I haven’t been around anyone since-” He gestured to himself. “And I’m not sure how much control I have.”

“What…are you?” Nancy asked from behind them.

“I wanna say vampire, but nothing is really that simple, so blood-thirsting creature who hasn’t had blood since he discovered he needed it.” Eddie flashed his teeth. “I’ve got no heartbeat, which is weird. And I can hear what Steve’s thinking.”

“What?” Steve asked, almost too shocked by seeing Eddie to actually process what he was saying.

“Your thoughts have been like, the only thing keeping me alive. No blood yet, remember?”

“How does that even work?” Joyce asked, hand on Steve’s arm. “Did you feel anything strange?”

“No,” Steve answered, not taking his eyes away from Eddie. “So you…you know?”

“Yeah, Stevie. I know,” Eddie took one step closer and paused, closing his eyes. “I don’t wanna get any closer to anyone. But I know for a fact that I wouldn’t hurt you.”

“You know how that sounds, right?” Will finally spoke up.

“Yeah, Will the Wise, I do. Which is why I won’t push. But I think something happened when Stevie here kissed me while I was bleeding out in his arms and I’m pretty sure that I would actually die if I hurt him,” Eddie said.

Everyone looked to Steve, who could no longer think of a single reason not to go to Eddie.

Robin seemed hesitant to let him go, but he smiled at her and said to trust him. They all had plenty of weapons if something went wrong.

He walked closer, his only thought being able to actually touch Eddie again, maybe kiss him when he wasn’t dying.

“I wouldn’t be opposed,” Eddie said quietly as Steve stopped right in front of him. He seemed taller, just a couple inches, but definitely noticeable. “Gotta watch the teeth though. They’re pretty sharp.”

“It’s really you,” Steve reached a hand out to cup his cheek. Eddie nuzzled against his palm. “You came back.”

“I’ll always crawl home to you, Stevie.”

“How did this happen?” He whispered, his hand dropping to Eddie’s chest. He really didn’t have a heartbeat. “How are you here?”

“I don’t really know. I woke up and got flashes of your thoughts, and then my own memory kicked in and all I could think about was getting back to you.” Eddie leaned forward until his forehead touched Steve’s. “It killed me to hear how much you were hurting and I couldn’t do anything.”

“Why couldn’t you come through the gate?” Steve asked, fingers curling into Eddie’s shirt. “Why didn’t you come to us when we came to get your body?”

“Every time I tried to leave, I would pass out. One of those times was when I could hear your thoughts about coming to get me and I wanted to meet you at the gate, but I blacked out somewhere by Skull Rock?” Eddie sighed. “I didn’t get to you in time.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Steve sobbed.

“Hey,” Eddie cupped his face and shook his head. “You didn’t know. This isn’t your fault. If anything, you’re the reason I’m even alive-ish to begin with.”

It was like everything around them disappeared when Steve leaned up to peck Eddie’s lips.

It was even quicker than the first time, barely even a graze. But they both felt the spark.

Steve fell against his chest, his face nuzzling into his neck as he let out another sob. “I needed you.”

“I know. I’m here now,” Eddie said.

Steve hadn’t realized how much it was true, how much he did need Eddie this whole time. The grief he’d felt was beyond what he should’ve felt, more than what even some of the people closest to Eddie had been showing. It didn’t make sense to him why he felt so much for this man he barely knew.

“It feels like I have your heartbeat in my chest,” Steve mumbled. It didn’t make any sense.

“Maybe you do, sweetheart,” Eddie kissed the side of his head. “Must’ve stolen it from me when you kissed me.”

Steve smiled against Eddie’s skin. “Maybe I did.”

“Um, not to break up…whatever this is,” Robin started. “But Will’s hearing things.”

Steve whimpered as Eddie pulled away.

“It’s okay,” Eddie said as he laced his fingers with Steve’s. “I’m right here with you.”

And it turned out, he was more help than anyone could’ve expected.

He wasn’t exactly connected to the hivemind, but he could sense Vecna. He was almost certain Vecna was the reason he passed out anytime he tried to leave.

Which Nancy had explained probably meant Vecna would need to be severely weakened or die before Eddie would be able to leave.

If Steve had to kill Vecna himself to have Eddie back, he would. He would do anything.

But since Eddie seemed connected to him, he could give them more warning than even Will could when something was going to happen.

That warning is probably what saved them and ultimately helped El get into Vecna’s mind to finish the job she started in March.

It was obvious almost immediately when she won, when they won.

Steve’s first response was to hug Robin, her tears and sweat and a little blood soaking into his shirt while he cried into her hair. He could distantly hear everyone else crying and yelling, cheers coming from the walkie that Joyce was holding.

Everyone was okay.

Robin patted his back and pulled away. “You better get to Eddie before he rips my face off.”

Steve’s brows furrowed as he looked over to Eddie. He’d distanced himself from everyone, and even though he was smiling about their victory, he looked incredibly uncomfortable.

“Hey,” Robin said, patting his cheek. “I’m happy for you. If he’s what you want, I’m glad you get to have him.”

“Thanks, Robs.”

Robin turned to pull Nancy into a hug and Steve made his way over to Eddie.

“We couldn’t have done it without you,” Steve started. “You made sure we got him before he could get us.”

Eddie’s wide eyes wouldn’t focus on him, darting from his face to his neck to behind him.

“Stevie, I-” He groaned. “I really need blood. Everyone smells so strong. I think Vecna was covering some of my hunger before.”

Steve paled. “Okay. Let’s just- okay.”

“Steve.”

“Bite me.”

“Steve!”

“No, seriously. You won’t hurt me. You can’t hurt me. And I barely even lost any blood today. Might as well let you have some.”

Eddie whined. “I-”

“Eds, look at me,” Steve guided his face towards him. “If you drink a little now, we can all leave here. You can come home. You can see Wayne. You can see the kids. You can stay with me if you want.”

Eddie nodded. “I just don’t wanna freak you out. I feel like you’re handling this too well.”

“Maybe,” Steve snorted. “But this is not even top three weirdest things to happen to me. I want you to feel like you have control again. You can be in control of your own body.”

“I don’t know what it will feel like for you. It may hurt,” Eddie said.

“It won’t hurt as much as knowing you’re suffering.”

“You would fall on a sword I’m holding if it meant I was happy, wouldn’t you?” Eddie asked, shaking his head. “How have you not died?”

“I almost have many times.” Steve cupped the back of Eddie’s head and pulled him in, tipping his head to the side so he had better access to his neck. “This won’t be one of them. You can’t hurt me.”

“Steve,” Eddie nipped at his neck. “You smell so good. I can’t-”

“Then don’t, baby. Drink.”

The moment Eddie’s teeth sunk into his skin, every surrounding noise and sight was gone from Steve’s mind. All he could think about was giving Eddie everything, whatever he needed was his.

He could feel Eddie moaning against his neck, but couldn’t quite hear it.

Eddie’s arms were around his waist, holding him up while he took the blood he needed.

Steve lost track of time, lost track of everything except the way Eddie’s lips felt against his pulse point. His tongue lapped up the blood leaking from where his mouth connected to his veins.

They both shivered.

Steve blacked out.

******

“If you killed him, I swear to god Munson, I will kill you.”

Robin’s voice was the first thing Steve became aware of.

And then he felt Eddie’s fingers on his wrist, probably checking his pulse.

“‘M not dead,” he managed to say.

He was definitely in a bed, though he couldn’t be sure if it was his own. He didn’t really want to open his eyes yet.

He turned his head a few inches and let out a small whimper at the sting in his neck.

“Can’t believe you tried to eat my babysitter,” Dustin’s voice said from somewhere across the room. “After he basically saved you by kissing you. I gotta call Suzie. There’s theories on a “sleeping beauty” kiss, but there’s no actual science to back it up. Yet.”

“Dustin, please shut up,” Steve groaned. “I’m fine.”

He finally opened his eyes to emphasize his point, shocked to see almost everyone surrounding the bed he was in.

“This wasn’t really an everyone needs to be here situation, was it? I just passed out.”

“Eddie was panicking. He thought he killed you,” Lucas provided.

“But he cannot. You are soulmates,” El said from a chair on the other side of the bed. She looked exhausted, but otherwise okay. “It is impossible for him to kill you.”

“Well that’s…nice.” Steve was feeling a bit exhausted himself. “How long was I passed out?”

“Long enough to get through the gate and get you back to your house. 30 minutes maybe?” Eddie said, pulling his hand up to kiss his fingers. “I was worried I took too much.”

“No,” Steve said, certain he hadn’t. “I think it was just overwhelming. It won’t happen next time.”

“Did I hurt you?” Eddie’s voice sounded broken and unsure, like he would crumble into pieces if Steve said yes.

“No. You didn’t hurt me. I promise. It felt…good,” Steve was hesitant to say more with so many ears listening in, especially young ones. “It was just a lot.”

Eddie watched him for a moment, determining if he was lying. But he could read his thoughts, knew he wasn’t, and eventually gave a nod and another kiss to his knuckles.

“Well, since we know he isn’t dead and probably won’t be anytime soon…we should go!” Robin said because she was a good friend who knew what Steve was thinking even without the mindreading superpowers.

“But we should monitor him and make sure nothing weird happens. We don’t know what Eddie’s got going on and-” Dustin started to argue.

“Yep, he’s fine.” Hopper started to nudge everyone out the door. “We have stuff to do anyway. Eddie can watch him. He’ll call if anything weird happens, right?”

“Right,” Eddie answered, not taking his eyes off of Steve.

As everyone filtered out of the room, Steve blinked back at Eddie, fond smile spreading across his face.

“You need any more?” Steve asked when the door closed.

“You’re joking,” Eddie laughed, but there was no amusement in it. “I could have actually killed you. I’d never drank before and you tasted so good, Steve. You have no idea how hard it was to stop. And then you passed out! I almost had them bring you to the hospital!”

“I’m fine! I passed out because it felt good.”

“Steve. No one passes out like that just because something felt good.”

“Well, it did! It felt kinda like having five orgasms at once. Except kinda different, too. Like I wasn’t quite over the edge?” Steve shook his head. “Either way, I’m okay and it felt good and if you need more, you can have more.”

“I don’t need more right now,” Eddie sighed. “But I know I will. We’ll figure out what to do to make sure you get enough vitamins so I can drink from you next time.”

“Mhm. Sounds good,” Steve closed his eyes and tugged Eddie’s hand to rest on his chest, where his heart was beating against his ribs. “Feels like you’re part of me.”

“Yeah. You feel it too?”

“El said we’re soulmates?” Steve opened his eyes again and found Eddie’s gazing back at him already.

“I don’t know, but there’s definitely a connection. A pretty strong one. I don’t think we can ignore it,” Eddie admitted, almost apologetic.

“I wouldn’t want to. I should’ve told you before how much I wanted to get to know you,” Steve felt tears in his eyes. “You didn’t deserve to only know after you were already dead.”

“I’m not dead. I’m here with you.”

“But I watched you die. I thought you were dead. I mourned you with the kids. Robin had to stay with me for a week straight because I could barely sleep, blamed myself for everything. You must have heard all of that.”

“I think I heard a lot of it. You tortured yourself. I wanted to come here and tell you I was okay so many times. I tried so many times,” Eddie kissed his forehead. “But I’m here now. You’re mine now. I’m yours. We can figure out what this means for us.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, sweetheart.”

“Will you get in bed with me?” Steve asked.

“To sleep?”

“Eventually,” Steve smirked. “Remember when I said I was still on the edge?”

Eddie snorted. “I’m not fucking you tonight. No way.”

“Why not?” Steve pouted.

“Because it should be special and because you’ve already been through enough today,” Eddie chuckled. “You can wait a day or two.”

“Can we at least make out a little?” Steve tried to compromise.

“Will you get some rest after?”

“If you make me tired enough.”

“I didn’t know I’d end up with Steve Harrington, The Brat.”

“You’re the one who pointed out I was a spoiled rich kid,” Steve argued, turning on his side so that Eddie could climb into bed next to him. “I’m used to getting what I want.”

Steve hadn’t felt this light in a long time, maybe even years.

Eddie must have sensed it, his beaming smile lighting up the room, his sharp teeth glistening in the low lamplight.

His lips crashed against Steve’s, his arms pulling Steve closer and then on top of him as he rolled onto his back.

Steve moaned into his mouth, licking past his lips and across his fangs.

He could almost still taste his own blood in Eddie’s mouth.

He rolled his hips forward, cock already straining against his pants. The friction was perfect, just enough to keep Steve on the edge, but not so much to make it seem like he was pushing.

He was pushing though. He wanted to see how far Eddie would go, how far they could get tonight even with the events of the day behind them and the exhaustion sinking in.

Eddie nipped at his lip, just enough to break skin, and Steve whimpered.

“Shit, sorry. Forgot how sharp these things are,” Eddie pulled away and thumbed away the blood.

“It’s good, I like it,” Steve gasped out. He pulled Eddie’s thumb to his mouth and sucked on it. “Bite me anywhere.”

“Sweetheart…”

“Please, I’ll be good. You don’t have to drink. Just…bite me.”

Eddie held him still for a minute, his eyes searching his face.

“I have an idea.”

Steve nodded. “Anything.”

“Ever fingered yourself?” Eddie asked casually.

“Um, kind of? I mean I have, but I got frustrated with the angle pretty quick.” Steve suddenly caught up to what Eddie was suggesting. “Are you gonna finger me?”

“If you have lube.”

Steve sat up, nearly falling back over from a head rush. Once he managed to stay upright, he reached over into his bedside table and moved a couple things over to get the lube.

He handed it to Eddie and started to get off of him, but Eddie’s hands grabbed his hips and stilled him.

“Nope, like this. I want you to ride my fingers,” Eddie smirked. “You can find what feels good like this. Use me to get off.”

“Is that what your idea was?” Steve gulped. He’d never done anything like this before and wasn’t sure he’d do it right.

“No, but it’ll make my idea more fun,” Eddie squeezed his hips. “But we can stop anytime, okay? Even if it’s just because you’re too tired.”

“I’m not.”

“Love, you defeated an alternate dimension and its super evil guy today. Plus, I drained you of a pint or two of blood. You can be tired,” Eddie opened the cap of the lube. “You wanna get undressed?”

Steve rushed to pull his shirt off, and quickly stood up to remove everything else. Eddie tried not to laugh at his eagerness; It was honestly pretty endearing.

Once he was naked, he got back on Eddie’s lap. “Are you gonna get undressed?”

“Not right now. This is all about you, sweetheart.”

Steve’s blush went down to his chest, and Eddie was ready to proclaim his love to anyone who would hear it. He didn’t care how ridiculous it was; He loved Steve and his beautiful red glow.

He hadn’t mentioned it to him yet, but Eddie could hear the blood rushing in his veins, could hear his heart pounding even from across the room. He could almost feel every breath in his own lungs.

He spread the lube across his fingers as he helped Steve scoot up enough to make this easier for both of them.

Steve’s breath hitched as he circled his hole, and Eddie heat rushing to the places his fingers brushed against.

He pushed a finger in slowly, slow enough that it felt like Steve’s entrance was making his finger a part of him. Steve let out a long, low moan as he pushed himself down further, until Eddie’s knuckle was resting against him.

“You were made for me, weren’t you?” Eddie said in awe. He’d done this plenty, but never like this, and never with someone who wanted him this badly. “Taking me like you’re starving for it.”

“Am starving for it. Need you,” Steve moved his hips forward and back, barely riding Eddie’s finger.

Eddie pulled his finger out and replaced it with two, trying to take it slow, but Steve wouldn’t let him.

“Oh fuck,” Steve whined when Eddie crooked both his fingers inside him, brushing against his prostate repeatedly as Steve’s hips started moving again.

His cock was leaking, dripping precome down his length and onto Eddie’s stomach. He couldn’t wait to have a taste of it later. Soon, if the way Steve’s heart kept skipping a beat was any indication.

“You want another?” Eddie asked him, somehow feeling breathless despite the fact he may or may not even need to breathe.

“Please,” Steve begged. “Need to be full.”

“You want me to fill you up?” Eddie stretched him open around three fingers, going a bit slower this time when Steve tightened around him. “How much can you take? Think you can do four fingers? Think you can have my whole cock in there next to a couple fingers?”

Steve nodded, though Eddie was pretty sure he had no idea he was doing it. He wasn’t picking up any actual thoughts from him right now, which was definitely good for his ego, but a little concerning.

“Hey,” Eddie paused with his fingers inside him, his free hand against Steve’s chest. “Let me see those pretty eyes.”

Steve blinked his eyes open and Eddie was gifted with a few random thoughts about how nice his fingers felt and how much he wanted to come.

“You wanna come on my fingers?” Eddie asked.

“Mhm.”

Eddie thrust his fingers in and out a few more times before tugging Steve down.

The new angle caused him to nearly scream, Eddie’s fingers putting constant pressure against his prostate as his cock got trapped between them.

“Gonna test something. Can I bite you?” Eddie whispered against his ear.

“Fuck, yes,” Steve agreed, tilting his head to the side like the good boy he was.

Eddie stilled his fingers, but kept them as deep inside Steve as he could. He leaned forward and breathed in the scent of Steve, his sweat, the lingering smell of his body wash from his last shower barely clinging to his skin, his blood.

His teeth found their mark and he bit down, groaning as he broke the skin and tasted the first drop of blood on his tongue.

He didn’t suck, didn’t need to. He lapped at the droplets of blood as he felt Steve tense, let out a high-pitched whimper, and warmth coat both their stomachs and chests.

He pulled off immediately, pulled his fingers out so he could wipe them off on the sheets.

“Fuck, sweetheart, that was perfect. You were perfect for me,” Eddie kissed his neck, his shoulder, the side of his head. “Can’t believe I get to do that.”

“Mmm…again?” Steve’s raspy voice breathed out against his shoulder.

Eddie laughed. “Not tonight, beautiful boy. I need you to rest. You did so good.”

“Mhm. You too.”

Eddie laughed again. How did this become his life? Or death? Undeath? Whatever.

He didn’t have the heart to move Steve, but he knew they’d end up literally stuck together with dried cum if he didn’t at least wipe them down. He managed to lift Steve enough to wipe them off with the sheet, but it wasn’t perfect and they’d definitely need to shower as soon as they woke up.

Eddie had changed as soon as he got to Steve’s house at everyone’s insistence, but he had yet to shower, and he was pretty certain the only reason he didn’t smell worse was because he technically wasn’t alive to produce any body odor.

He turned his head to look into the bathroom.

Steve had a huge bathtub. They could share in the morning.

For now, Eddie ran his fingers up and down Steve’s back as he fell asleep on top of him.

“Thanks for kissing me, sweetheart,” he whispered before closing his eyes and letting out any of the tension he’d been holding onto.

Tomorrow, they’d find a way to explain his presence to Wayne, and he’d really be back home.

But tonight, he’d let the weight of Steve and his love cover him up.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddiesongfics #work song #check ao3 for full tags #vampire eddie munson #blood drinking #soulmates #canon temporary character death #canon typical violence

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berryzxx · 5 months

Note

omg hi

can i request a fic where reader has had a bad day so theo cheers her up (like bff's to lovers) bc i want im desperate

thank you

Your mine, sweetheart

hey gal x (also who isn't desperate for Theo?) Pansy is a bitch in this one but anyways hope u like it x)

Summary: Theo cheers you up after a bad day

Theodore Nott x reader

Pansy looked me up and down, hate simmering in her eyes. She scoffed "Don't tell me that's what your wearing. You look like an absolute slag"

After being best friends with her for our first few years and realising how toxic she really was I had tried to keep my distance from her but she didn't get the hint and instead liked to comment on each and every thing I did. Of course the comments hurt me but maybe after the years they just didn't hurt as much. Maybe I was immune now. The dress I had chosen for this nights party was a short green dress, something to celebrate our Quidditch win but of course the dress didn't live up to her expectations. What was really annoying was she wore a similar dress just a few weeks back but according to her I was the one who looked like a slag.

"I think it looks nice Pansy"

I turned to my mirror and applied a light pink lip gloss that was almost finished because of the amount of times I had used it. I couldn't be bothered arguing with her tonight. I wasn't about to let her ruin my mood.

"I bet you tried finding the shortest dress in that store"

I rolled my eyes "What are you on about?" I was getting tired of her stupid, annoying comments.

"You know exactly what I'm on about. Don't think Theo's gonna fuck you after this, honey. Your just like all the other desperate bitches at the party"

I gritted my teeth together and put my lip gloss down trying to appear as unaffected as I could. "Fuck off. Jealousy isn't a good look on you"

I walked past her, tears forming in my eyes. Before I could leave she made sure to mutter "Once a whore, always a whore". I let my feet carry me outside to the warm summer evening where the sun was setting. I walked around the lake trying to blink away the tears so my makeup wouldn't be ruined. Was there any point of going to the party? No, probably not.

I sat down on hill, the freshly mowed grass making a soft carpet for me to relax on. Me and Theo had sat hear many times before whether it was to have a late night snack or to miss lessons. It was a comforting place.

I sat there until the sun set and soon it got darker. Almost too dark. My thoughts had cleared now. My tears no longer trying to make an appearance. Maybe I could join the party. Just because one person was being an ass didn't mean everyone else would be.

As I was contemplating on whether I should stand up or not someone cleared their throat behind me. I raised my wand instantly expecting...well something scary I guess.

It was in fact Theo holding a small golden lantern. I didn't bother standing up and instead waited for him to flop down next to me.

"My favourite person isn't going to congratulate me on my performance today?" He placed the lantern between us so we were both bathed in a warm orange light. I could just about make him out, his features looking almost worried.

"You were good." I said. I didn't have the social battery to talk to him right now even if he had done nothing wrong.

He smiled at me "I know. What's up with you? Your usually dragging me to parties but instead your...well from my point of view it looks like your mourning your rabbit"

I let out a small laugh. Even at times like these he could make me laugh. "I just don't understand. Why is it so hard for some people to be nice?"

Theo shrugged "They're probably insecure. Or jealous."

"Yeah. Probably"

We sat in silence for another few minutes before Theo stood up stretching out his hand to me "Come on, sweetheart. Your the life of the party. It's no fun without you"

I stood up and handed him the lantern instead "You can be the life of the party tonight. I'm tired"

"Don't let someone ruin what you want to do. Y/n you love parties. You've never missed one. Unless you really are tired, I'll respect your decision and walk with you to your room"

I contemplated my options. I could do what I really wanted to do which was go to the party and enjoy life with my friends or I could get cosy in my bed and feel like a coward for the next week. He was right. No one got to influence what I wanted to do.

"Your playing truth or drink with me then" He grinned at me "Whatever you want, sweetheart"

As we walked back inside the castle from a more hidden entrance Theo made sure to hold my hand because apparently he "didn't want me to trip and get hurt". Whatever the reason was it didn't stop butterflies from forming in my stomach.

I had to blink at the sudden brightness of the corridors, the light finally letting me see Theo clearly. He had dropped my hand and instead was surveying me.

Theo's eyes took their time on inspecting my outfit, hungrily devouring the way the dress emphasised my curves. He finally brought his gaze up to look at me, his eyes slightly darker than usual "You look absolutely divine"

I smiled at the compliment "If you weren't my best friend, I'd say you were flirting with me"

He raised an eyebrow "Maybe I am. It's quite hard not to when my best friend is so fucking gorgeous" My cheeks heated at his words, my dress feeling a little too tight all of a sudden. I think I needed to sit down after that.

He extended his arm so I could wrap my hand around it. "I can't wait to tell everyone we're dating"

I paused. What did he say? "If that's ok with you" He added hastily.

I thought about what he said. Had I always imagined what it would be like if Theo asked me out and we weren't just best friends anymore? Of course I did. Every single second of every single day.

"That's fine with me"

He smiled again, a small dimple appearing in his left cheek "Then it's settled. Your mine, sweetheart. And I'm yours"

(not proof read cause im a lazy bitch)

(also will be creating a master list soon :) )

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unholyhelbig · 2 months

Note

oversight request if ur down! what if nat’s enemies captured ronnie? how would nat get her back? (i love seeing this darker side of nat… she’s hot asf when she’s mad 🥵) thx !!

Title: We Have Your Daughter [An Oversight Oneshot]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Summary: When Veronica is taken from a friends house in the middle of the night, it's clear that reader and Natasha will stop at nothing to get her back and get revenge.

Warnings(PLEASE READ): Gun use, kidnapping, use of gags & zipties, broken glass, threating statements, knife use, strangling, and horrible grammar.

[a/n: This one wasn't my favorite thing I've ever done, but I was way too far to scrap it. I might take a small break from Oversight oneshots so I can clense my pallet a bit!]

Check out the full Oversight universe

The phone buzzed against the mahogany table on Natasha’s side of the bed. You were in a haze of sleep, something so cloying that it was hard to distinguish what the noise was. There were four monotone vibrations and then a silence so thick that you nearly drifted back into unconsciousness. But then, it started again, louder this time, it seemed, as the phone fell from the nightstand and to the carpeted floor.

An alien blue light filled the room and you groaned softly against the side of Natasha’s neck. You’d ended up laying fully on top of her; legs tangled. Your hands were under her, holding her as close as possible. The rhythm of her heart picked up when she stirred from her own sleep.

She blinked a few times before reaching blindly to the carpeted floor and retrieving the phone. It had stopped ringing again, but soon amped back up. The number was unknown, which formed a small marble of dread in the pit of your stomach.

Natasha sat up carefully and you shifted to the side to give her more mobility. Both of you shared a frowned look of confusion. It was three in the morning, and a stranger was calling. That was enough to arise panic in anyone, but with your profession, it seemed to echo further than most.

“Romanoff,” Her frown deepened, then. You couldn’t hear much, just the warbled and panicked voice of another. “Wait, slow down.”

She flipped back the duvet and stood up, flicking on the bedside lamp. You winced at the sudden brightness but tracked her frantic movements all the same. She was pacing. It often helped Natasha think. All trace of sleep had left you both.

“No, no. We’ll be right there. Thank you.”

When Natasha hung up and her eyes met yours, any hope of a peaceful existence had been sucked from the room. The words ‘I’m sorry’ seemed to be on the tip of her tongue. But she didn’t’ say it. Instead, she threw the cell phone on the end of the bed and moved her hands through her messy russet locks.

“Natasha,” you said, almost viciously. “What happened?”

“That was Luke. Someone broke into the house. We should… get dressed. We need to get dressed and get over there.”

Her words were broken, causing you to rise despite the wave of nausea that overtook you. Unsteady on your feet, you closed the distance between and grasped onto her shoulders as if to stabilize you both. Natasha’s eyes threatened to boil over with tears, they were red-rimmed and oh, so broken.

At thirteen years old, you both had deemed Ronnie mature enough to start having sleepovers with the other kids in her class. Of course, you’d meet with the parents first, and give them all the emergency contact information. Never tightening the reigns there.

But the Jones family were trusted more than most. Ronnie and their daughter Dani had been close since diapers. You’d spent days by the pool together and even took a family vacation with them to Niagara Falls this past summer, despite how ‘lame’ Jessica’s son deemed it when they dawned the yellow plastic ponchos.

“Is she hurt? I know we told Luke and Jess to call us first if something like this happens but if she’s hurt we really should get over there right away and get to the hospital. Call an ambulance maybe? God, please tell me she’s not hurt.”

Natasha’s hand cupped your cheek, and she peered into your eyes. There was sadness behind her stare that was incomprehensible. You couldn’t stop your thoughts from rushing at you in all different directions. Her touch quieted the noise, if not for a moment.

“She’s not hurt,” Natasha frowned, backtracked. “I don’t know if she’s hurt. She’s just… gone.”

The man said his name was Grant. He didn’t give a last name, and Veronica did not ask for one. Grant would do just fine. He looked like a Grant; his eyes were beady and black, his hair combed in various directions with a generous amount of gel. He was trying to look effortless and cool.

Veronica thought he looked like he was trying too hard. Of course, she didn’t say that, but the fact remained the same. The gag that had been nestled tightly against her mouth tasted stale, like the way a thrift store smelled. Maybe it was the carpet in the trunk of the car that lodged itself into her lungs.

She was calm and collected; prepared for something like this. As much as her mothers had poked and prodded and huffed and puffed when she suggested she start to learn basic things (like how to get out of zipties, or what to do if you were trapped in the trunk of a car), they had yielded.

Really, her aunt Lena had Yielded. While she still was discouraged from the heavy-hitting stuff, she did know how to break free of most contained spaces. She could also throw a mean punch if she put her entire body weight into it. But she had been sleeping when Grant shattered the window, and groggy when he hit her temple with the blunt end of his pistol.

The selfish part of Veronica knew that her mothers were scared right now, and reveled in it, for only a brief moment. She’d let out a grunt from being jostled when the car hit a particularly bad speedbump. Her teeth bite down harder on the gag, releasing a sordid taste that did not settle her stomach.

Even at the age of six, which Veronica remembers in bits and pieces, she knew that something wasn’t right with her mother. It wasn’t wrong, either, but it put her on edge and kept her voice trapped in her chest like a music box without a key.

You’d come home smelling metallic, sometimes like the salt of the earth itself. It was much less palatable than the sweet coffee that often graced your collar. She used to inhale the familiarity of it, but had stopped when you’d begin to get bruises and deep red gashes against your skin.

It was something that you’d try to hide from her, from Aunt Darcy, but in the deepest moments of your sleep, the fabric of your shirt would lift and expose the camouflage markings on your ribs or the crack of flesh on your back that Veronica was certain hadn’t been there before.

Then there was Mama.

Natasha. Natalia. Romanoff.

She’d heard every variation of the title. The name was spoken with a certain type of urgency in some, fondness from you, and fear from most. It wasn’t until Veronica was eight and paid more attention to those around her that she realized Natasha was the source of the un-well scent on you.

“Your moms whack people,” Dani had told her one day as they played up in her room. Veronica was meant to stay the night but there had been a heated and insignificant argument about who got to marry Malibu Barbie.

She’d whined back, “They do not,”

“They do too! I heard the other mommies at the playground talking about it. They whack people and it makes everyone else afraid of them and you.”

“You’re lying!”

Veronica had felt the tears prickling at her eyes. Not because Dani’s words were too much, they were just the right amount of hurt. Deep down, Veronica knew that something was fucked up about her family. And while they tried to shield her, it never stopped people from talking.

She would get looks from the parents of her schoolmates. Once that reeked of worry, and sometimes pity. It fed her anger, stoked the coal fire that burned within her. She shouldn’t be angry at her moms, she knew it was unfair. But as she clenched the barbie in her little fist, anger was the only thing she could truly feel.

“They don’t hit people!”

“That’s not what whacked means, dummy.” Dani seemed to catch her bearings, lower her voice to keep her own mother from hearing the accusations. “People that are near your family are never seen again. That’s what Cassie’s mom said. People that are near your family die.”

How could that be true? Things were so different here. There were different smells and Dani’s family didn’t eat around the table like hers did. The house was smaller and cozier. There were pictures on the wall that were black and white and worn with age. But there was love here, just like there was love in Veronica’s house.

A house with love couldn’t be a house where her mothers… whacked people.

Natasha held her with so much warmth at night. She read her two stories if Veronica asked and would get her a glass of water in the middle of the night. Sometimes, on the way home from school, they’d stop for ice cream even though you had cautioned against it.

Someone who let her get extra chocolate sprinkles was not a killer.

But the thought lodged itself in Veronica’s head and refused to leave. She was unnaturally quiet on the ride home, having called you to pick her up early from the wall phone. She held back tears and pressed the plastic close to her face until it was numb.

Natasha had cooked steak and mashed potatoes. Usually, it was Veronica’s favorite, but she watched as the pink runoff seeped into the white mush and quelled the nausea in her stomach by taking little sips of water.

She pretended not to notice the wary look her mothers gave each other, but it was impossible to ignore the way you cleared your throat, palming the wine glass to give your hands something to do. “Baby, is something bothering you?”

The dam broke. Veronica hated when you took that tone with her because it made her cry each time, made all of the hidden emotions bubble up until her cheeks were red and she was a sniveling mess.

This time, she blinked them back and looked between both you and Natasha. She clenched her fork in her little hand and drew in a breath. These were big emotions for such a small girl and she didn’t quite know how to swallow them.

“Why is everyone afraid of you?”

Your hand tightened on the glass you were holding, just loose enough to save it from shattering. Natasha had been mid-chew, her stare moving frantically to you before she swallowed and used her napkin to wipe the edge of her mouth.

“Sweetheart, did someone tell you that?”

Veronica seemed to tremble, shrinking into herself. She had gotten so verbal over these last few years, and this was a side that you refused to let her fall back into. You set the glass down and reached across the table. You covered her hand with yours, despite her refusal to unfurl it. It helped to ground her, had since she was little.

“Dani said that people are scared of you, and that they die around you. I called her a liar, a dirty liar, but she kept telling me it was true.” She looked up with tears in her eyes. “That’s not true, right?”

The silence seemed to answer her question, but she stared at both of you. She wanted to hear it. She wanted you to look under the bed and slay all of the monsters that were intent on grabbing her ankles and pulling her down. Natasha looked down at her plate, almost shy. You gave her hand a squeeze.

“Baby, it’s complicated.” You started, her wild eyes moving to yours. You felt her grow tense. “Your Mama and I, we want to be honest with you no matter what. This family is complicated, but that will never change how much we love you.”

They’d abandoned the food and spent most of the night explaining what they could. She was still only eight years old, and they held back from her. Each year of her life, they revealed more, eased her into it. And if she asked a question, they never, ever, lied. They answered truthfully- even if it wasn’t an answer she didn’t’ want to hear.

Veronica’s muscles had become stiff. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been shoved inside of the trunk, but light was leaking through the edges. She’d drifted in and out of sleep, her legs burning. She wanted to break free of her binds and stretch them out. Grant tied a good knot.

It was no matter, she thought, because her mothers wouldn’t let her linger for long.

Glass and blood sprayed across the back patio. Someone had clearly wrapped their hand and shattered it with sheer force. They’d cut themselves at one point or another, but it didn’t’ seem to stop them from muscling their way into the Jones’s home.

Luke, in his hulking nature, reached into the highest cabinet and got his daughter a glass of water. She hadn’t touched the muffin that was set in front of her. Luke was nesting, trying to ply her with gifts to ease the horror of what had just happened.

You felt bad, having to dredge it up when the memory was still so fresh. She had the deer-in-headlights stare. Wide eyes flicked to you and Natasha. She opened her mouth and closed it in succession twice. She looked like a fish.

It wasn’t that you hated Dani, you didn’t. She was thirteen-year-old child, after all. But, you were admittedly wary about her after she had brought Veronica’s walls down when they were younger. Kids, you reminded yourself. They were innocent, but they were also mean when they wanted to be.

“I already told you, “She said, frowning down at her untouched muffin. “We were both asleep when we heard a loud crash. It didn’t wake up mom and dad. I wanted to call the cops, but Ronnie was against it. Why haven’t we called the cops?”

The silence in the room was palpable. You were studying the edges of the glass, the dried dark blood against the edges. It was better for you to focus on that, than the fact that Veronica wasn’t here. You would spiral, then. You’d think about all the places she could be, and none of them were particularly good.

“Fine. There was a man with a gun in the kitchen and he… aimed it at us. Ronnie wasn’t scared. I don’t know how, the look in his eye was determined. Horrifying. He said that he wasn’t going to hurt us, he just needed her and then he would leave.”

“And she just went?” Natasha urged; her voice strained with exhaustion.

“Yeah, yes. I didn’t try hard to stop her, he had a gun. A gun!”

“Okay, alright. Thank you, Dani.” Luke placed his hand on the small of her back. She crumbled into him, dwarfed by his sheer size. Jessica glared at her own reflection in the mirror above the sink. She had been deathly quiet.

Suddenly, Dani looked so tiny in his arms, hugging her close. Your heart seized and you frowned at the broken glass at your feet. Natasha willed herself to continue. “Dani, I’m incredibly sorry about this. About all of this; but we need to know what he looked like.”

“I don’t know, he was tall and had these blue eyes that were just unsettling. He was sort-of good looking.”

Jessica seemed to find herself at that moment, working her hand through her hair. It was damp and unkempt with sweat. “You both need to leave.”

“Jess,” Luke interjected.

“You need to leave!” She raised her voice, turning to face the group. She kept her palms on the counter to steady herself, refusing to look at Natasha, but clocking you with a deathly stare. “We’ve ignored so much. We’ve watched Veronica when the two of you leave on your business trips, and come back looking like you’ve been raised from the dead. We pretend not to notice the guns you carry even at the fucking beach! But this is not something we can ignore. Y/n, this is my home.”

Her chest was heaving with rage but there was immense sadness in her eyes. Dani’s fingers clenched at the fabric of her father’s shirt. Natasha’s hands were in her back pockets, her red-rimmed stare trained on the ground.

“I understand. Thank you for everything. We’ll uh, get someone to come by and fix the patio door. I apologize for all of the trouble.”

Natasha moved to follow you, her hand on your shoulder. You hadn’t realized you were trembling until her firm touch was there to quell it. Her words were said with a gentle authority. “I made a few calls. A patrol call will be positioned across the street for the next week. Longer, if you’d like. I’m sorry.”

“Wait,” Dani stood from the barstool. “There’s one more thing. The man, he had on this gaudy jacket and there was a patch on the pocket. It was red and there was a skull with these tentacles coming out of it. Totally villain coded.”

You frowned, diverting your stare to the small bug light at the corner of the door. It emitted a small buzzing sound that was barely noticeable. If you stared at it long enough, the tears that threatened to spill over would eventually go away.

“I hope you find her.”

Dani had said in a quiet voice. And you hoped beyond hope that you did too.

There was ugly green tile in the bathroom. Veronica had counted them twice over, and then to check her blurry math, she multiplied the length and the height until the numbers matched. She was bored and cramped in the off-white bathtub of a shitty motel.

For the first half-hour, she had her eyes on the water-stained ceiling. There was an abnormally large roach that crawled in circles. It had the whole ceiling, why did it confine itself to one spot? She’d made up a story; the brown little bug was training for a race. He was following the imaginary track.

He’d win, she decided, tugging softly on her binds. Even if though the horsefly can move up to 90 miles per hour. They’d learned that in class and it was one of those facts that she just couldn’t seem to forget.

Veronica could hear Grant on the other side of the wall. He had made an exasperated phone call and threw it down on the bed. He’d been oddly gentle and patient with her when he removed her from the trunk and subsequently locked her in the bathroom.

After living with a family of deadly criminals for the better part of her life, Veronica toyed with the idea that she was being held for ransom. Her mama, she didn’t hesitate when it came to stuff like this. Veronica had asked her once if that was easier.

They’d been jogging along a small path that cut through the woods around the property. Natasha was used to doing stuff like that alone, pacing herself and breathing in the crisp scents that nature had to offer.

It had shocked her when Ronnie asked to join, but she was quick to agree. She’d slowed to a brisk walk when the girl started to fight for air. Natasha may have pushed a little hard, but she was content to walk with her daughter, all the same.

The question had caught her off guard. “Ronnie, I don’t think your mother would appreciate me answering this.”

“You’re my mom too.” She stopped by a particularly large rock, placing both hands behind her head to stretch her chest out enough to ease her breathing. “Unless you’re afraid of her.”

“You’re baiting me.”

Veronica gave her a wolfish smile. Of course, Natasha wasn’t afraid of you. She wasn’t. You would sometimes get a deep look in your eyes that made her squirm in her seat. It was the mom look- the type of look that you seemed to inherit from the moment you first hold a baby against your chest. The need to protect was deep seeded.

Natasha felt it too, especially with the girl that goaded her right now. But she knew when not to push, and when to gently suggest something to you. Right now was a terse moment that blurred the line between something you’d be okay with, and something you’d initiate the silent treatment for. She sighed.

“Sometimes, there is more to suffering than the pain that’s inflicted. Does that make sense?”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Waiting for the end is more tortuous than the act of ending itself. What I mean is, putting someone out of their misery is not only a mercy in some situations, but a necessary evil. I’m not a monster, Ronnie.”

She believed her in that moment. Natasha wasn’t a monster. Not to her. She could see how some of her charges would think differently, but this was the woman who would curl up in fuzzy pajamas and watch shitty romantic comedies with her, even shedding a few tears when the lead got the girl.

Veronica let out a long sigh and slumped further down into the bathtub. An uncomfortable and sluggish hit of pain moved through her legs and to the base of her back. First the trunk, and now this.

Her body stiffened when she heard the giggle of the door handle. Heels dug into old porcelain as she pushed herself up. Parts of Veronica’s stance was numbed entirely. Her shoulders were tight with tension, and a fine layer of dust was kicked up.

Grant clenched his jaw and unclenched it at the sight of her. He’d left her to her own devices for far too long. She watched carefully as he unscrewed the cap of a water bottle. The seal cracked and she relished in the sound, praying that it hadn’t been tampered with.

He knelt down against the side of the tub, pulling her gag from her mouth. She drew in a desperate and clear breath, clocking him with a glare. Sickeningly, he smiled at that. “You must be thirsty.”

She didn’t’ dignify him with an answer but allowed him to guide the water bottle to her lips. She gulped down more than half in a hungry fashion. Spare drops soaked into her collar and drip against her jaw. He pulled away and recapped it.

“I want you to know this isn’t personal. I’m not big on the whole ‘kidnap kids’ thing. I have a son of my own, and I wouldn’t ever want something to happen to him.” He paused and resituated himself into a more comfortable position. “This is business. I do what I’m told.”

Grant was trying to relate to her, make her feel some sort of sympathy for him. She wasn’t going to fall into his tactics. Instead, she glowered at him. “I hope he has a good mom. Because when mine find you, he’s going to need one.”

“Yeah, sweetheart. I’m counting on it.”

This time, you had made sure that the gun was fully loaded. You were all for showmanship, leaning into the nickname that those who roamed the streets had given you. Even those who didn’t, a woman at the laundromat or the waitress that had replaced you at the diner all knew you as Roulette.

Once upon a time, you couldn’t push past the shadow that Bucky Barnes had created. He was the Winter Soldier, Natasha’s immoveable force of nature. She’d command him with a solid hand and anyone on the other side of that wrath was doomed.

It was a reputation that was impossible to live up to, yet somehow, you had done it. Not only could you kill with such ruthless abandon, but you had found a family along the way. Bucky would never question Natasha’s orders. But the two of you made them together, and that brought a new type of fear.

When Leo Fitz had moved for the weapon tucked into the back of his neatly pressed pants, you made sure to move with a quickness that rivaled anyone else in the room. The tip of your revolver was pressed to his temple, his gloved hands raising in surrender.

Ophelia Sarkissian smiled. Blood dripped across her teeth from where Natasha had connected her fist with bone. She was slammed up against the back wall of her office now. Her mantle shook with the force of the hit, and dust rained down from the ceiling.

“That’s the problem with old buildings,” she said, a mix of sticky saliva and russet discharge. “The aesthetics are there, but you sacrifice the integrity of the room. Don’t you agree, Nat?”

“I’m not here to discuss architecture.”

Natasha reached into her own pocket, not releasing her hold on the leader of Hydra. The little organization of evil had gotten admittedly bigger than either of you thought was possible. They’d gotten more men, more property. But they were resigned to Hells Kitchen and that was simply not under Natasha’s jurisdiction. She never found it in herself to care, not until now.

Knives were Yelena’s weapon of choice, but Natasha still found joy in the subtle bout of fear that flashed momentarily across Ophelia’s serpent stare. Leo attempted to move, but stilled when you pulled the metal hammer back on the revolver. All you had to do was pull the trigger and there’d be a new mural in Ophelia’s office.

“Natasha, would you mind calling your dog off? Doctor Fitz is a brilliant scientist. It’s not any old brain she’s fixing to blow out.”

The side of the silver blade had found its way to the edge of Ophelia’s eye, not quite touching it, but she knew that the slightest movement would spear her iris. She stopped squirming under Natasha’s threats.

“Okay, okay! What is it that I can do for you lovely ladies?”

“What is it you can do for us?” Natasha’s voice was a thick and hollow growl. Any sign of mercy had escaped her, one hand clenching the woman’s throat, the other pressing the tip of the knife hard enough to break porcelain skin. “Sweetness, I think you know exactly what we want.”

“You’ll have to be more specific, Natty. I have my fingers in a lot of cookie jars.”

“If you’re inclined to keep your right eye intact, I suggest that you lead us to our daughter. I have no trouble taking a woman’s sight.”

Ophelia laughed and it infuriated you. Rage and impatience made a dangerous cocktail. You had tolerated the woman and her lackies through dinner parties and the occasional get together. But that was the extent of your relationship.

Seven full years and she still viewed you as nothing more than Natasha’s pet waiting to be house trained. You’d long since left your probationary period. You’d married the woman who had an iron grip on the city and in turn, raised a competent daughter in your stead.

“I have no godly idea what you’re talking about. You think I’m stupid enough to steal from you? I wouldn’t take a wine glass, much less your daughter. I have some common sense. What led you to believe that I would?”

You hated to admit that you believed her, but you still refused to remove the gun from Fitz’s temple. “The symbol on the jacket of the man who took her. It was your insipid mass of tentacles.”

Fitz cleared his throat “Ma’am, it could be Ward.”

“Ward?” Natasha asked.

“I fired him months ago. He’s mostly harmless but would do anything to get into my good graces. I suppose it would be possible for him to pull a stunt like this. Last I heard, he was living at the Motel six off county.” Ophelia gritted her teeth “It’d be greatly appreciated if you both left before you do something you regret.”

Natasha mocked a pout, dragging the tip of the blade against the side of Ophelia’s face. A trail of pin-prink spots of blood rushed to the surface of her skin. “But you’d look so good with an eyepatch.”

Veronica had drifted into an incredibly fitful sleep. She could hear the world around her; the skittering legs of the bug that ran laps on the ceiling, the slow and steady drip of the sinks faucet, the football game that Grant had turned on to drown out her movements.

It was the unmistakable sound of woods splintering that had caught her attention. Ronnie forced herself to control her breathing, just like you had taught her. She clenched down on the sour tasting gag in her mouth, heart pounding violently in her chest.

The television had been turned off and Grant’s muffled voice seeped through the crack in the door. She knew that her mother’s preferred to work silently. They tried to shield her from everything and everyone that held a potential threat. But there were some things that Veronica wanted to see. Including the downfall of her captor.

She made a small noise against the back of her gag and slammed her heel on the puke-colored tub. The dull thumb was enough to halt the movement in the room. There was shattered glass, and an exclamation that could have only been from Natasha.

Grant had locked the bathroom door from the inside and closed it. There was a strong hit that rattled the weak wood. Her breathing picked up as another hit caused the door to bend like it wasn’t a solid force at all, but entirely breakable.

Finally, it gave way and you stumbled into the bathroom in a cloud of slivers and dust. None of that seemed to bother you, eyes darting directly to the tub that your daughter had been housed in for the last six hours.

Veronica was reduced to a bubbling mess of tears. She hadn’t realized how much she wanted to see you, needed to see you. There was something so warm and safe about your touch and it cut through the cold bathroom air like nothing she had ever felt before.

“Oh baby,”

Your voice cracked as you dropped to your knees, making quick work of the gag. Veronica’s jaw ached when you removed it, tossing the cloth aside. You used the very knife that Natasha had used to threaten Ophelia with to cut the zip ties that had cut dark purple bruises into her wrists.

“Oh, my baby, I’m so sorry.”

She gripped you with a strength that reminded you of the first day you’d dropped her off at kindergarten. She’d cried then too, wetting the collar of your shirt with nervous tears. Veronica had clung to you and wicked her fingers into its fabric. It broke your heart to let her go then.

You’d had a meltdown in the driver’s seat of your car with all the other parents that had emotional attachment issues. It was where you met Jessica for the first time. She’d dropped Dani off. Her second child so it was easier this time. She brought you a beer and told you that everything would be okay.

“Mom,” she whispered, over and over again, gripping you to make sure you were real. She was much too old to carry, but you didn’t give a damn in this moment. You scooped her up like she was six years old again and she wrapped her legs around your waist without any protest.

You tucked her head into the small of your neck. “Keep your eyes closed, baby girl. You’re safe now.”

Veronica clenched her eyes shut and dug further into you. She tried to ignore the noises she heard in the single-bed motel room. The choking sounds that Grant let out as Natasha did what she did best with the electrical cord of a lamp.

She kept her eyes shut in the freezing stairwell, and even when the warm mist of an early-morning dew coated his skin. She waited until she could smell the familiar leather of her mother’s car, and even then, she held you in a vice grip that you weren’t willing to let go of anytime soon.

You’d taken your jacket off and draped it over her shoulders. She curled into herself in the backseat of the car. It only took a few more minutes for Natasha to exit through the same service door that you did. Her hair was disheveled, a long gash against the side of her arm that you were certain would need stitches later.

Black blood dripped from the wound and pooled from her fingertips in small splashes against the pavement. She didn’t’ seem to notice, her adrenaline screaming loud enough to quell any pain she would have felt.

Natasha gently urged you to the side before she climbed into the backseat wordlessly. Ronnie seemed to let out a long breath of relief. She launched herself into the woman’s arms. Natasha grunted at the force but squeezed her as tightly as she could, letting her cry.

“Mama, I’m so sorry.” Veronica sniffed “I shouldn’t have gone with him, but he was going to hurt Dani.”

“Do not apologize moy malen'kiy strelok.” She pressed a kiss to Veronica’s temple, fighting back tears. “Never apologize.”

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