Latest Posts by artsyclxwn - Page 3

had a vision (more in reblog) (← that's a link btw you can click on it)

Hi there! As i really like this character in SSO i tried to do my best to bring him to Life in The Sims 4, hope You'll like him aswell <3

This Set contains:

Medieval Round Bridle (2 swatches)

Jumping Saddle with Stirrups (2 swatches, ea fit)

Jumping Saddle v1 with long Stirrups (2 swatches, ea fit)

Jumping Saddle v2 without Stirrups (2 swatches, ea fit)

magical horse feathers (4 swatches)

DOWNLOAD Google Drive | Patreon

known Issues: the Reins don't attach properly to the new halter, I haven't found a fix for that problem yet. I will update the files when i find a conclusion to this problem!

HERE are the other Links for the CC used for Khaan:

Eyes:

1. .OBJUCT @objuct- Smaller Eyes + Eye Geom Fix

2. EACHUISGE CC @eachuisge-cc- REALLY Unnatural Horse Eyes

Body:

1. PURE WINTER - [PW] Better Horse Body

Mane&Tail:

1.NV-GAMES @nv-games- HORSE, FORELOCK, MANE, TAILS

Tack:

1. ZORELA - Iberian Show Saddle Pad

Tosche Station: Oasis Springs

Over the weekend I got it into my head to make a Star Wars Themed restaurant that can take advantage of the existing Star Wars costumes, and all the new experimental food items. While recreating the Mos Eisely Cantina was the obvious choice, I’ve never been one to go for the obvious, hence why I chose Tosche Station instead.  I mean there had to be more than just power converters that had Luke Skywalker so anxious about going there.

In addition to the Restaurant and Bar, the build features Bacta Baths, a Rancor Pit, a Lounge, a Sarlacc Waste Disposal chute in the kitchen, and of course, a Power Converter shop. You can find additional pictures of the build on my blog.

I’ve created a bit of custom content (pictures, stickers, bantha milk dispenser, door and counter recolors etc) for this build which you can download below. You’ll also need some additional custom content by other creators which you can fun listed under the cut.  You can find the Tosche Station restaurant in my SimDoughnut gallery. simply enable the “include custom content” button under the Advanced Options menu, and use the hashtags #starwars #toschestation #restaurant and #dineout. I strongly recommend enabling the MoveObjects cheat before placing this lot. I hope you enjoy the build.

Have Fun :)!

Tosche Station Stuff Pack Download (Dropbox)

Читать дальше

Sixam’s Freed Plantlife (GTW Needed)

Idk about you guys but I like to have my landscaping STAY PUT when I’m done. I also like to use these pretty thangs IN my landscaping but some of them are garden objects that need watering/weeding/spraying/evolving. Ok, well that’s great if they aren’t being use as landscape objects and their pathing is obscured by other landscaping items making them go bad essentially. I really dont like moving around my landscaping solely so my sim can get to them, talk about wasting valuable gameplay time. 

They are found in deco > plants for 5 whole simoleons and do not require gardening. They will stay put and won’t override your copies that DO require gardening. Talk about perfect!

I have to thank @sims4studioofficial + @inabadromance for sending a couple incredibly useful tutorials my way to achieve this.

~ * Download @ SimFileShare * ~

Hey you guys! I have hit 100 followers so I made this quick gift! It’s another set of recolors using the same mesh as the Mod Abstract prints that I posted last week.  All images are from The British Library’s collection of vintage space & sci-fi illustrations.

❤ Thank you so much for the follows, everyone! I hope you enjoy the prints! ❤

Vintage Space Wall Art

5 original designs

standalone recolors

design tool enabled & custom thumbnails

DOWNLOAD: dropbox

TOU: Please do not re-upload or claim as your own. And, if you wanna, tag #sjane4prezcc so I can see what you make!

Credits: original mesh [BLACK], recolors by dailywizard

Made with Sims 4 Studio

Marvel Unleashed #1 (2023)

written by Kyle Starks art by Jesus Hervas & Yen Nitro

Make Me Sway (Thomas Hewitt x Reader) + RQs info

Summary: After going on a road trip with your friends, you become the sole survivor of the group, trapped in the Hewitt’s residence, because Thomas doesn’t like the idea of you getting killed as you show him humanity and fearlessness in the face of death.

Part 1

Part 2 and 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9 (NSFW)

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14 (NEW, I am back <3)

Notes: This story happens somewhere between the events of Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning (2006) and Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2003)

Warnings: Violence, Mention of rape, Trauma

Content: Reader has moodswings due to trauma, and is acting on irrational impulses, however has a strong/fearless personality, wittiness and calm nature despite the circumstances, Thomas is confused by his emotions, he knows he should kill you, but he doesn’t want to, Fluff/Smut coming your way 

REQUESTS INFO:

What I will write:

NSFW

SFW

Headcanons

Oneshots

Who I write for:

Thomas Hewitt

Michael Myers

Jason Voorhees

Brahms Heelshire

Bubba Sawyer

One-eye/Sawtooth/Three-finger (Hilliker brothers)

All League of Legends champions

Anime characters

Consider, RZ Michael and Thomas with a s/o who likes to play with their hair. Like braiding it or just absent minded playing with it

Sorry this took so long!! I wrote and rewrote it so many times over the past couple days tryin' to get it right. Still not the happiest with it but I hope it's what you had in mine!

Summary: RZ Michael and Thomas with a s/o who likes to play with their hair.

Warnings: Suggested NSFW-ish, mentions of abuse and bullying

Wordcount: 1.5k

Michael Myers

Not gonna lie to ya chief, Michael doesn’t strike me as the kind of dude to give a flying fuck what happens to his hair. Or his body. Like, the dude gets shot, stabbed, slashed, burned throughout all the movies. I highly doubt his hair would be where he drew the line.

But, the act itself is intimate, personal. That IS something he gives a fuck about. It unnerves him. Years of isolation, cruelty from staff, harsh touches, and rough treatment? Getting close enough to even raise a hand to him without his own snatching your wrist into a vice grip would take time and patience. A lot of it.

Once your relationship with him finally grew enough, and he allowed your touch without smacking away your hand or walking out the door, you could get away with a lot when it comes to him.

Michael’s never had someone to touch him tenderly besides his mama all those years ago. So touch him with love, with care. The fucked up wires in his brain would uncross, reconnect and he’d eventually realize how much he actually enjoyed it. He’d soak it up like a sponge.

Now, playing with his hair? That all started out as something you would do when you could wrangle him onto the couch to watch a movie or a show with you in the evenings when he wasn’t prowling around the neighborhood. Always bribing him at first. “I’ll buy you a bag of Reese’s if you watch a movie with me,” or “I’ll make you a cherry pie if you sit with me while I work.” Every time, your hands would twitch when his hair brushed over his shoulders, when it swayed as he turned to look at you. Your thoughts filled with “What if’s” and ”What’s it like-”

It made watching the movie or focusing on whatever you were working on a nightmare.

Of course, in the end, you couldn’t resist touching it. Once you’d forced him into the habit of showering and using hair products, the blonde locks that sprouted from his head looked like gold strands of silk. And it felt like it too. It didn’t take long for your resolve to break down. He watched you like a hawk the first time your fingertips grazed his hair, piercing baby blues peering down at you. They’d shift to your hands for only a second, unnoticed by you, then back to your face. The only time people had touched his hair was when he was getting man-handled in Smith’s Grove, or when victims were trying to claw their way out of his grasp, desperate hands fisting into the silicone mask and catching his hair in the process.

But you weren’t them, and he wasn’t in Smith’s Grove anymore. You were the one who bought him candy and made him pies, so he let you sink your hands in and brush away those memories with every stroke.

Sometime down the line, if you're really lucky and hummed whatever melody came to mind in a soft enough voice, pressed the pads of your fingers into his scalp nice and slow, his eyes would close and his shoulders would just barely sag.

But only sometimes, it is Michael after all.

Congrats, you trained the boogeyman to let you touch his hair! After that, he wouldn’t care if you braided pieces of it, it’s not any different than you running your hands through it in his book, If you left them in and tied them off, he won’t take them out until he finally showers. The only reason he’d tug them out is if they got in the way or made his mask sit funny. Other than that, expect to see them when he comes home after hunts all frazzled and out of place.

Thomas Hewitt

Thomas is a whole different story though. This man was bullied his entire life, called all the names in the book, hit and beat by students and teachers alike. He was undeniably called a sissy, weak like a girl, every other bullshit insult towards femininity in the book. C’mon, it’s Texas. While braids aren’t inherently feminine, the only people he saw at school for the short time he was there wearing braids was the girls in his class, sporting lil' pigtail braids.

Because of all this, braids would mainly be off the table for him. Especially when Hoyt stormed into your shared bedroom one time and let out a slew of crude jokes at Tommy’s expense. He’d probably let you get away with it if you and him alone, just the two of you. Hidden away from Hoyt’s yappin’ and howlin’ in the basement, or laid somewhere on a blanket in a field under an old oak. But before anyone at home could lay eyes on em’, to your dismay, he’d softly pry them out. He’d be feeling really guilty about ruining such fine work though.

Just running your hands through his hair though? Petting his head, fixing any stray fly always with your cute hands on him? He’s fine with that. Absolutely fine with it. Hell, he’d practically melt every time.

It’d always start in the mornings when the early rays of sun start to peek through the curtains over the windows. They’d slowly shift through the old room as the next hour passes, finally tilting through the glass window panes just enough to kiss his face and start to rile him from his sleep. He’d always give a heavy sigh when stirring from whatever dream he was gifted, somehow always feeling like he didn’t seem to get enough rest. Then again maybe that’s just what farm life is like. Especially when he’s been the only real able-bodied adult in the house. Luda Mae and Hoyt can still get around, but all the tuff labor gets shucked onto his shoulders, and after so many years of it he can’t help but be a little worn down.

You’d be next rise from your joint slumber. Waking up with Tommy would mean waking up curled into his side with his arm around you, holding you against his warm body. Now and then your leg is found tangled in his, but almost always your arm would be limp, situated over his stomach. You’d stretch your fingers and try to blink away the drowsiness in your eyes while tilting your head back to look at him, hoping one day you’d catch him asleep. No luck this time. Droopy brown eyes would be looking down at you with adoration, the arm around you pulling you almost impossibly closer while his thumb rubs circles into the soft flesh on your back.

Another few minutes would pass, and you’d find yourself laying on his belly, either by your own will or by his. A low hum would rumble through his thick chest as you slid your dominant hand up and through his chest hair, ever further till you reached his face. He is eyes would flutter close when your hands brushed against the scruff of his cheeks, and a sigh would have your body fall with his chest once they made purchase in his choppy brown hair. They’d dance through the gentle waves, and you’d feel him press into your touch, sighing as your fingertips slid against his scalp in mesmerizing ways.

Of course, it only lasted till someone started howlin’ Tommy’s name. But throughout the day you’d find moments when your hands could sink into his hair.

One is when you’d walk out to the barn with a cool glass of lemonade to give him while he works on fixing up one of the stalls. He’d set whatever he had in his hands down and take a seat on a nearby bale of hay, the furrow in his brow melting away when you hand him the glass. While he sipped on it you’d make idle conversation, your fingers finding themselves into their favorite spot.

Another is after dinner, whenever Luda Mae asks the two of you to clean up and handle the dishes. Thomas always insisted on washing, not wanting your hands getting dirtied unnecessarily. Forever stuck on drying duty. So for the first few minutes of him starting the water and getting everything soaked in the water, you’d steal the opportunity to hop up on the counter and scoot yourself as close to him as you could, hands reaching towards his hair as they always do.

That favorite, intoxicating feeling of it sliding through your fingers was usually bested by the soft groan of pleasure from the man that usually followed. It was an addicting little sound.

And sometimes it got you in the best kind of trouble.

Light in the Darkness (4)

Abby Anderson X Fem!Reader, College AU, Part 4

Since part three was so short I am double posting, so when there is a small journal entry or “thought” chapter then there will usually be a double post because the content was so short.

But I’m not promising anything.

TW: Anxiety, overthinking.

PT. 3 PT. 5

Chapter 4–> Line Without a Hook, Ricky Montgomery, Week 12

Lyrics: “All my emotions feel like explosions when you are around

And I’ve found a way to kill the sound.”

Fuck Max, Tatum, and Bailey. Not literally, but figuratively. Why? Because now you’re in a small club with way too loud music, way too many flashing lights, and way too much of the smell of alcohol induced vomit that could very well be touching every nook and cranny of this hell hole. Of course, you did say yes, so it was partly your fault.

But you were still overstimulated, about ready to explode with anxiety. Tatum was already on the dance floor, dragging Max along behind her. Max was Tatum’s designated ‘gay’ best friend. They’ve always clicked, it’s like they share the same brain.

Bailey was with you, sitting at the bar. She wasn’t drinking, having been the next designated driver in the trio’s rotation. You offered to drive, but they all declined. Maybe it’s because you never went to bars or clubs with them, which was fine. They’ve never been your scene. But Max begged you to go, he felt bad because he thought you felt left out. Even though you explained that you didn’t feel left out, you said you’d go with them tonight.

“You good?” Bailey asked, leaning close to you so you could hear her over the music. Shrugging, you turn to look at the dance floor. There were a lot of people pressed close together, grinding, making out. You couldn’t find Max or Tatum anymore, but someone else caught your eye.

Owen, Abby’s ex-boyfriend. He was making his way through the crowd, stopping to grind on an unsuspecting woman. It was weird, maybe disgusting. Definitely disgusting. You had a weird feeling about him, even when you were bitching at him because of the Red Bull.

“I’m going out onto the floor,” Bailey said, catching your attention.

Nodding, you watch Bailey blend into the crowd. Turning back to the bar, you pulled out your phone. Pinterest seemed to be a good app to get your mind off of the club, cats being your choice of obsession.

“Hey, you’re Abby’s lab partner, right?” A voice too close to your ear caused you to flinch, scaring you from looking at a bright orange picture of a cat.

Turning your head, you saw a dark-skinned girl sitting on the stool next to you. Her body faced the crowd of sweaty college students, but her face was towards you.

“Yeah,” You frown, “Why?” Does Abby talk about you? You would probably be brought up because of her project, but hopefully nothing else would be brought up.

Abby’s friend widened her eyes, “Oh, she didn’t say anything bad, I promise.” She looked as if she let out some horrible secret, her deep brown eyes shifting away. “I’m Nora, I’d like to say I’m Abby’s best friend.”

You raised an eyebrow, not sure why she would approach you out of nowhere. Let alone at a club, and without Abby near. She already knew your name, which was weird considering Abby barely talked about her friends.

“Nice to meet you, is Abby here with you?” You ask, not trying to show your suspicion. It seemed to work, Nora visibly relaxing as she hummed, looking around the crowd.

“She is,” Nora said, “ She arrived a couple hours ago.”

Nodding, you bit your lip, “You brought Owen too?” You couldn’t hide the slight disgust tinting your voice.

Nora sighed, “He’s like the Scott Disick of our group.”

“God he looks like it.”

Nora smirked at your comment, then she pointed at the crowd, “There she is.” You follow the direction of her finger to see Abby. She was dancing with Owen, not seductively, more like she was trying to get away. Nora turned towards you, “I’m going to join them, hope to see you again.” She hopped off the stool, slightly jogging over to her two friends.

After Nora left, the music seemed to have gotten louder. It pounded through your skull, causing a fog in your brain. Looking around for a bathroom, you sighed in relief when you found one. It wasn’t too far away, just on the other side of the bar.

Making your way over, you cupped your hands over your ears to try to muffle the bass. You pushed the door open, surprised at how small the bathroom was. There were two small stalls on your right, a dingy light bulb flickering above your head. Both stalls were occupied, so you walked to the far side of the room, leaning your back against the wall.

As cramped as the room felt, it did muffle the music enough for you to gather our thoughts. You pulled your phone out again, going back to the pictures of cats to distract you from your anxiety. One of the stall doors opened, and you glanced up to see a woman with smeared lipstick and disheveled hair stagger out. She glanced at you, but then turned to pull the door open.

As she pulled the door, she kind of stumbled backwards. Someone was on the other side, pushing the door open. The girl caught herself, cussing as she held onto the stall door behind her. The other girl, who was pushing the door open, apologized, appearing as she walked in.

Abby was the other girl, peering at the drunken one hanging onto the stall door. The drunk girl stood up, glaring up at Abby. She pushed her way past the blonde, calling her a “sightless whore,” as the door closed behind her.

The blonde shook her head, turning away from the door to see you. Her hair was in her signature braid, some stands having fallen out, they were framing her face. Her cheeks were flushed, probably from the hot air from the outside, probably from the alcohol she’s consumed. Her blue eyes were blown wide, pupils almost overtaking her irises. She was wearing a cut-off black tee paired with green cargo pants and brown combat boots.

“Hey,” Abby murmured, a slur hinting at how drunk she may be. If she was blacked out, she definitely hid it well in front of you.

Giving a half-wave, you smile, “Didn’t think I’d see you here.”

“In the bathroom?”

“Sure, we could say that,” You laugh, noticing the light dust of pink overshadowing the flushness of her cheeks.

Abby frowned, looking around the dingy bathroom. “Do you want to get out of here?” She asked, placing a hand on the back of her head.

“I didn’t drive.”

The blonde pulled out a set of keys, “I did, but I need a driver.”

With a quick text to Max, you decided to drive Abby to your dorm. You didn’t really have a choice, Abby, having been more drunk than you anticipated, passed out in the passenger's seat as soon as you both got into her car.

The drive back to your dorm was brief. What wasn’t easy was trying to get Abby to stand up to get to the building’s elevator.

The girl was heavy, leaning on you as the elevator rose to the third floor. Abby didn’t smell entirely of alcohol, hints of cedar coming through. Her hair smelled of Pantene, which made some sense. Abby seems like the type to stare at the shampoos, remember Selena liked Pantene, and decide to go with that one.

The elevator doors opened, forcing you to hoist Abby further onto your shoulder as you practically dragged her.

“For how muscular you are, you sure as hell ain’t using any of them,” You grumble, half-dragging the blonde. Thankfully, your dorm wasn’t too far from the elevator, and you made it with minimal casualties. The only one being Abby’s hair tie, which you decided to hate as you vowed never to go back to save it.

Sliding your key card, you push the door open. Abby seemed to have gained a bit of control of her legs, kind of helping you out as you made your way to the couch. Your energy was depleting quickly at the sight of the couch, running on fumes as you dropped her onto it. She landed face first, and if anything hurt, she didn’t show it. Your muscles that were previously screaming at you, seemed relieved as you hunched over.

Turning, you went back to close your door and turn on the main lights. You and Max bought nightlights for the dorm, having both not liking how dark the rooms could get.

Abby grumbled, catching your attention as you made your way back to the couch. She turned over onto her back, blinking languidly. You crouch, taking her boots off.

“Where am I?” She asked as you finished getting her boots off.

You sat on the floor, leaning your back against the couch. Abby dragged herself into a sitting position, rubbing her eyes. She looked confused as she looked around, when her eyes met your face she seemed to have realized where she was. Her name left your lips, but nothing else.

“What?” You ask, staring at her ruffled hair that was quickly falling out of its braid.

Drearily, Abby patted the cushion beside her, “Sit with me.”

Standing up, you sat beside her, turning to face her. She was looking at you, back slightly hunched. You leaned forward, propping your elbows up onto your knees as you rested your head onto your hands.

“You’re so pretty,” Abby murmured, a hand slowly reaching up to touch your cheek.

She was drunk, she didn't know what she was doing. The heat that rose to your cheeks was embarrassing, a direct reaction to her touching you and her compliment. She was drunk, she couldn't be in the right state of mind. Abby leaned forward though, and you didn’t lean away. She was a couple inches now from your face. She had to be able to hear your heart racing, the loud thumping pounding in your ears.

“I mean it,” Abby whispered. “You’re so pretty.” Time slowed down as she leaned closer, her lips bridging the gap as she kissed you. Her lips weren’t chapped, having a minty taste to them. Abby kissed lightly, as if questioning you.

The blonde pulled away, suddenly looking sick. She leaned forward again, but this time not to kiss you. Instead, she puked onto your lap.

Posted on: 4/21/23

WC: 1,732

Housewife situation fem!reader with abby anderson???? Fluff and smut or whtv you want!! <3

Ok here's the thing, I love love love Abby Anderson. Like I have an enormous crush on her okay. And I just—THE BRAINROT IS REAL. And picturing a whole housewife scenario with her??? This just makes me want to marry her ONG 😩😩😩😩😩😩

-----

Abby always wakes up early since she's got the morning patrol. She'll be out of bed before the sun rises, and she'll pepper your face with kisses as she leaves.

You grab her by the wrist, the hem of her shirt, her hand—whatever you can reach of her in your half-dozed state.

“Stay,” you beg, pulling her towards you, and she sits on the bed beside you. “Please. Just five more minutes.”

“You know I can't, baby,” she tells you, brushing your messy hair off your face. “I'll be late to work.”

“Please,” you insist, cuddling into her lap, her thighs strong beneath her khakis.

She sighs gently and caves. “Five more minutes,” she agrees, holding you, caressing your face. She loves how you look so pleased that she's staying five minutes more beside you. Sometimes, she can't understand how she managed to get someone like you to love her. It amazes her as much as it thrills her.

When the five minutes are over, she presses kisses to your forehead as she says her goodbyes, and you watch her go with half-lidded eyes.

You get out of bed a few hours later, when the sun is bright and shining through the thin curtains. You change out of your pajamas into a pair of small shorts and one of Abby's t-shirts that smells like her, and get to your chores.

You make yourself breakfast and clean your plates, you sweep the kitchen, the living room, the bedroom, the bathroom, and the hall. You dance and sing on your own with a few songs that play on the radio, and you think about Abby.

You make the bed, organize the pillows, fold your pajamas and Abby's. As you're working and singing, your eyes fall on the pretty pink box of yours that Abby stashed under the bed.

Your pussy clenches at the knowledge of what's in there, and, even though you shouldn't—you still have chores to do and no time to waste—you slide the box out from under the bed and open it.

Inside: a tube of lube, a rabbit vibrator, a few bullet vibrators, handcuffs, and a stack of Polaroids that you're quickly reaching for. You realize that Abby's strap on isn't here, which only riles you up more because it means she's wearing it to work.

You climb on the bed, eyes scanning over the pictures. There you are, all teary-eyed and swollen lips as you suck on Abby's cock. Another picture of you with your thighs spread, your slick dripping down to the bed, your thighs covered in hickeys. A third one reveals your breasts, littered in bite marks and hickeys, Abby's mouth in the picture as she sucks your nipple. Another one, you on all fours while Abby fucks you from behind, the strap on coated in your slick, your ass red from where Abby's rough hands have been gripping it.

You can feel your pussy throbbing, your arousal pooling onto your panties. You lay back against the pillows, one hand rubbing your pussy over your shorts while you continue studying the pictures.

Abby fucking you from behind, both of you standing as she forces you to watch yourself in a mirror, the flash a bright white against the edge of the mirror. A picture you took, Abby's gorgeous blue eyes looking right into the lens from between your thighs, your pussy raw, Abby's mouth and chin covered in your slick as she eats you out.

You push your shorts to the side, along with your panties, and run your fingers over your dripping folds. A soft breath leaves your lips as you brush soft circles on your clit.

Another Polaroid shows you on top of Abby, your head thrown back, your chest on display as you ride her.

You pinch your clit, placing the Polaroids on the bed beside you, focusing on your fingers on your cunt and wishing it was Abby touching you.

Unbeknownst to you, Abby has taken advantage of the fact that it's Friday, and she's managed to get someone to replace her afternoon shift. By midday, she's making her way back home. Back to you.

The radio is on, some late 80s jam playing loud enough for Abby to hear the music through the door as she fetches her keys out of her pocket.

She unlocks the door and walks in, shutting it after herself. She walks down the hall, making her way toward the kitchen in search of you when she hears you gasping in the bedroom.

Somewhat alarmed, Abby rushes towards the bedroom, swinging the ajar door open and saying, “Baby?” only to find you on the bed, all spread out, soaked shorts and panties pushed to the side while you fuck yourself.

You jump when you see Abby, quickly removing your fingers from your cunt. “Bee!” you say, shocked, as you sit up, trying to recover your breath.

Her blue eyes study the bed, the Polaroids you were using to get off, the pink box full of your sex toys, and she's quick to do the math.

She raises an eyebrow. “Do you always touch yourself when I'm not home?”

You swallow, cheeks warming with a blush, and shake your head. “No, I-I was going to get started on lunch, I just—You're home early,” you stutter out.

“Lunch, you say?” She grins, ignoring your comment as she makes her way toward the bed, discarding her jacket and her halter on the ground. “That sounds real good right about now. I'm fuckin' starving.”

You watch as she climbs on the bed, crawling towards you, and she places her hands on your hips. With a quick, swift movement, she pulls your shorts and your panties off, and tosses them aside.

You gasp softly as she leans down, placing her mouth to one of your thighs, then the other, before licking over your folds.

You shudder, laying back down against the pillows, your nails digging into the bed sheets. “Bee,” you mewl lowly. “Please, I've needed you so bad.”

Abby smirks before she presses her face into your pussy, her nose against your clit, her mouth sucking at your folds before her tongue slides into you.

You reach for her head, fingers eagerly tugging at her braid until you manage to pull it loose. Her blond locks fall over her shoulders, and you tangle your fingers in them, hips rutting up to meet her face.

“Abs,” you whine, legs trembling around her head. She lifts your thighs and wedges her broad shoulders between them, placing your legs to rest on her shoulders.

She drags her teeth over your clit, making you shudder, and she smirks. She loves how sensitive you are when she touches you, how you get soaked with only a few licks. You're so easy for her, and she loves it.

“Please,” you gasp, back arching off the bed, your eyes fluttering shut. Your fingers drag through Abby's thick hair, pulling her closer, your cunt raw and throbbing against her tongue.

She groans into you, making you mewl, and she can feel her own pussy growing wet, soaking the strap on she wore. She enjoys having eight inches of pink silicone between her thighs, imagining you on it, impatient to get home and stuff it inside you.

“Fuck me,” you beg, trying to pull her away from between your thighs. “I need you inside, Abs. Please.”

“Not yet,” she says, her voice reverberating through you. “I want you t'come f'r me first.”

You groan, mewling. “Okay, okay,” you agree. “Mmphf! 's so good!”

Your body is trembling, your pleasure coiling in your womb and threatening to snap. Your eyes are rolling into the back of your head, your nails digging into her scalp.

“Abby! Please, fuck!” you cry out. She can tell you're close, both by the hitch in your voice and the way your slick gushes out of you.

She nuzzles her face against your pussy, sending you whirling over the edge. You mewl, “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Abby—Oh, God!”

And then your orgasm crashes over you, making your thighs shake, your thighs squeezing her head. She laps up your orgasm, drinking every last drop, enjoying your sweet sent and your taste.

As she pulls away from you, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, you reach for her. You grab onto her shirt, making her crawl over you, and she cages your body beneath hers.

Her mouth finds your lips with ease, sneaking her tongue between them, allowing you to taste yourself. You wrap your hands around her neck, threading your fingers into her hair.

She pulls away from the kiss to push her pants and boxers down, low enough for the silicone cock to spring free. You spread your legs wider, eager, and she smiles before caging you under her once more.

She guides the dildo between your folds, teasing your entrance for a moment before sliding into you. You gasp, wrapping your legs around her waist and forcing her deeper until her hips meet yours.

“Fuck,” Abby hisses out as you buck your hips up, causing the strap on to rub against her swollen clit.

“Abs, please,” you beg, grating your hips in search of more friction. “Please.”

Abby has had something on her mind for a while now. Something she wants to propose to you but is a little shy to admit. Yet, she takes her chance now, and asks, “You think you can call me something else, love? Give me a pretty nickname when I fuck you?”

Your eyes meet hers, the blue darkened by her lust, pupils blown wide. “Okay,” you breathe, trembling.

“Call me Mommy, hm? Let's see how that sounds from your pretty lips.”

You're surprised at first, your eyes wide before they quickly glow with delight, excitement coursing through you. Your pussy clenches around the dildo, your heart racing.

“Mommy,” you say softly. “Mommy, fuck me. Please.”

Abby groans, heat rushing to her core at your words. “Fuck, baby. Such a good girl, goddamn.”

“I missed you,” you admit, dizzy with pleasure, drunk on the feel of Abby's body on top of yours. “I always miss you when you leave.”

She places a soft kiss on your forehead as she begins thrusting into you, making you gasp. “I miss you, too,” she tells you. “All the time. I wish I could take you to patrol with me, but it's dangerous work. I'd rather you stay here, safe.”

You mewl, nails digging into her back. “You could stay here with me,” you suggest, voice wavering as the pleasure runs through your veins, making you tremble. “We could be together all day.”

Abby smiles softly. “You know I can't, honey. It's my job,” she says, gasping softly as the strap on adds more pressure against her clit.

“I know,” you reply. “I know. I just need you so much.”

She presses a kiss against your mouth, feeling your gummy walls tighten around the strap on. You mewl, eyes rolling back into your head, and Abby swallows the sound.

“I need you too, love,” she tells you. “I always need you.”

Her hips slam against yours, the bed squeaking beneath you, the headboard crashing into the wall.

“Mommy!” you cry, trying to pull her closer. “Please. Please.”

“Yeah, I'll make you come, baby,” she promises, breathless from the pleasure. “Don't you worry about that.”

You nod, shaking, the pleasure crawling through your veins and igniting your skin. “Fuck! Fuck! Mommy, 'm so close!”

She increases her pace, bruising your cervix, the dildo dragging against your g-spot. “Come on, my angel. I know you can do it,” she encourages. “Come on my cock, yeah? Be a good girl f'r me, baby.”

She licks your jaw, lowering her mouth to your neck. She bites on the delicate skin of your throat, her hips bruising yours, and she can feel how you scratch her back through her shirt.

Your cunt clenches around the strap on, making it harder for her to thrust in and out of you, and then you're hurling over the edge. You gasp and moan, body trembling uncontrollably, your pussy dripping onto the bed.

“Atta girl,” Abby says, burying her face in your shoulder as she feels her own orgasm nearing. Her clit aches beneath the rubs of the strap on, begging for release. She grinds her hips onto yours, making you mewl, and she's getting herself off at the same time.

When you buck your hips up, meeting hers, it drives her to a frenzy and pushes her over the edge.

“Fuck! Goddamn,” she moans, biting your shoulder through the thin material of the t-shirt you're wearing as she comes, her broad figure trembling. She rests the weight of her body on you as she tries to catch her breath. She places her head on your chest, hearing your racing heart, and you run your fingers through her tangled hair, caressing her head gently.

“I love you,” you tell her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “So much, Abby.”

“I love you,” she replies, kissing your neck. “You're everything to me, angel. What would I do without you?”

You smile. “Come back to a messy house?” you joke.

She shakes her head, pushing herself up so she's not crushing you under her weight, and she kisses your lips. “You know that's not what I mean,” she says, the words falling right against your mouth. “Without you, I'd be empty, love. All alone, without anyone to understand me, without anyone to love me.”

You wrap your arms around her neck, giving her mouth a peck. “I'll always be with you, Abs. I'll always love you. You know there's no one else out there that can even come close to comparing to you. You're it for me, Abby.”

She kisses your chin, the corner of your mouth, and then your lips. It's a soft, slow kiss, gentle and loving. It makes you happy, a bubbly sensation bursting in your chest.

“How come you're home early?” you question as she pulls away to press a trail of open mouthed, wet kisses down your neck.

“I wanted to be with you,” she says. “I felt guilty this morning when I left. I haven't spent as much time with you lately, with the Fireflies needing more people to patrol, and me too willing to help. I-I haven't given you the time or attention you deserve, and I'm sorry for that.”

You kiss her again, softly. “You're here now, Abs. That's all that matters.”

She pulls out of you and you're left sore, aching in the best way, and then Abby's cleaning you.

She helps you into a pair of new panties and shorts, and then you make your way to the kitchen. As you cook, Abby helps you, chopping vegetables, finding the seasoning, setting the table—anything she can.

You stand in front of the stove, stirring the food, and Abby hugs you from behind, placing her head on your shoulder, humming in your ear.

She raises the volume of the radio and grabs your hand, pulling you toward her, and she leads you around the kitchen, dancing. You laugh, delighted, having missed her so much. This past week she's been particularly busy, leaving early and returning late, with barely any time to spend together.

Abby watches the joy on your face and her heart melts, feeling so fucking lucky. She makes you this happy, and that just makes her dizzy with awe.

How did she get you to love her?

You have lunch, and then you cuddle on the bed and Abby tells you all about her day and she just releases all the stress she has pent up. You two take a small nap, with you in her arms and one of her legs around you, and wake up a while later.

You make popcorn, Abby chooses a movie, and then you pretend to watch it while mostly talking to each other.

It gets late quick and you grow tired. Abby pulls you to her, allowing you to rest your head on her chest, and you're quick to fall asleep. Abby kisses the top of your head, inhaling your scent, and she promises herself that she will spend more time with you. Nothing matters if she's not with you.

-----

@kamcrazy123 @yagirlheree @sweetllamaparadise @neytirishottie @crazy4books1

Should I tag you in works about other fandoms as well??? Please tell me so I don't tag you in works that aren't your type!

-----

Blog masterlist

it’s golden, like daylight

dilf!neighbour!steve x babysitter!neighbour!reader

summary: when moving to hawkins the last thing you expected to find was any sort of love. especially not from the single dad who lived with his daughter two doors down. after offering to babysit for steve when he’s in a bind, it becomes a regular thing. through weeks of stolen glances and secret whispers, your feelings for each other bloom into something more. with both of you unsure of how the other feels and wondering if any of this is right, things are bound to get tangled up. after a particularly confusing night, you and steve find yourselves with no where to look but at each other.

word count: 17.4k

warnings: 18+ content,singledad!steve and his daughter whose name is daisy, age gap (reader is in her early twenties and steve is in his early to mid thirties), lots of back and forth pining and flirting, so much miscommunication, minor angst that gets resolved, mentions of blood (reader cuts her hand on broken glass, nothing serious), steve patching up the reader ( but it is not described graphically), steve being the sweetest, smut, dirty talk, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, size kink, reader struggling to take steve, reader getting teary eyed during sex, happy ending

authors note: hello again! i know some of you are wondering where the third chapter of invisible string is, and i promise it’s coming, but this is what i’ve been working on the past three weeks. this is the longest fic i’ve ever written and so i’m feeling very proud of it and of myself. this idea is one i’ve had for months but finally got inspired enough to finish. i want to announce here that because the love i feel for this fic is so strong, i am making this an au! here on my blog! that means you can request fics or send asks about this story as well as i will be writing more for it in the future! i hope you all love it even half as much as i do! i need to give some attention to some amazing people as i post this. a big thank you to @mysticmunson for creating the header for this and for listening to me talk through every idea i had. another big thank you to @bejeweledmunson @petal-veined and @moonmistt for putting up with this being all i’ve spoken about for week! i love you all so so much. also… @loveshotzz here she is, the glorious dilf fic i promised and i’m so sorry it’s probably a lot softer than you were thinking!

The quaint town of Hawkins was nowhere near as bad as you had prepared yourself for it to be. Moving into small towns like this could be difficult, considering everyone knew each other and most inhabitants had lived there for their entire lives. 

Living in the city you were used to most people being relatively rude to strangers, everyone always having somewhere to be with no interest in small talk of any kind. You were pleased to see that the few people you had met were nothing short of kind and made you feel right at home. 

The weather of the town was much nicer than you were used to. The sun beamed down brightly, the sky a bright blue with fluffy clouds scattered throughout it. This fact had you forgetting about your unpacked boxes on your first day there. Instead you rushed to the nearest florist, buying different already bloomed flowers to plant in the front, making the rental home feel more like your own. 

You had only been living there for a week, your boxes all finally unpacked and you were comfortably settled. The neighbourhood you lived in was cozy, green grass on each lawn, mailboxes all looking freshly painted, and sidewalk chalk covering every other driveway. 

You were seated in your front window, enjoying your morning coffee as you flipped through a few pages of a book. Your mind was wandering to what you needed to get done, jotting down a few things as you spotted something out of your window. You looked once more after the first time, realising that it wasn’t something you were seeing, rather someone, a small someone. 

There was a small girl in your garden, looking around it as she carefully walked beside it. She couldn't have been older than seven, her steps still wobbly despite the attentiveness to each step she took. 

She had dark brown hair that was in one french braid along the back of her head, a few small clips holding any loose pieces of hair back. A pair of denim overalls sat on top of a light pink t-shirt, her little white shoes covered in dirt all over. 

You were unsure of what to do. She wasn’t doing anything wrong, but truthfully you didn’t want her destroying the garden that you had just planted days ago. You got up off the windowsill, making your way out your front door quietly, not wanting to startle the tiny girl. 

“Hi there.” You said sweetly as you walked down your front steps, watching as she slowly walked over to where you were. 

“Hi!” She lifted a hand close to her body, waving it shyly. Her voice was slightly frightened, but she was putting on her bravest face. You didn’t look all that intimidating, a fact that you were hoping would play to your favour in this situation. 

“I like your overalls.” You pointed to them, kneeling down next to her. “They’re very snazzy.” 

She giggled at your words, freckled nose scrunching up as she smiled. Her cheeks were a little red from the sun and what you assume playing outside in the heat. 

“I like your flowers.” She replied, looking back at them before turning to you again. “They’re very snaz-snazzy!”

You laughed at her attempt to use the word you just did, making her laugh a little harder this time. You wondered if it was normal for kids here to approach strangers the way she did, if the parents of Hawkins just trusted that no one here was a bad person. 

She held out her hand, a pile of beaded bracelets on her wrist. You took her hand in yours, her whole hand nearly fitting into your palm. 

“I’m Daisy.” She hummed, aggressively shaking your hand. “I live down there.” She pointed down your street at a big white and blue house. 

“Like the flower!” You gasped excitedly. “I’m Y/n, it’s a pleasure to meet you Daisy.” As she let go of your hand she began to play with her fingers, her mind searching for the correct words to say. 

“I was wondering…” She trailed off, looking everywhere but your face. “If-If I could have a few of your flowers…but they aren’t for me!” She exclaimed as if it would make her question sound more believable. 

“Who would they be for, sweet Daisy?" You inquired, lifting one of your knees from the ground, the hard pavement beginning to make it hurt. 

“For my dad!” She said happily. “It’s Father’s Day a-and I forgot to get him a present.” She winced, squinting as you copied her facial expression. “He never forgets my presents, and I feel not good.” 

Your heart was aching so hard your teeth were hurting. You were positive you had never met a kid this cute, nevermind this thoughtful. There was no way you could tell her no and send her away, knowing that it would weigh on your chest for the rest of your life. 

“I’ll tell you what.” You whispered, standing up fully but still bending so she could hear you. “I’ll help you put something together for your dad if you let me have one of those pretty bracelets.” 

It was not a fair trade in the slightest, but you weren't about to tell her that, not when she squealed with excitement, jumping up and down on your grass. 

“Thank you! Thank you!” She sang, grabbing your hand and dragging you to your garden. 

You let her pick whichever flowers her little heart desired, not surprised when she chose a few daisies as her final touches. You grabbed some newspaper and ribbon you had inside, putting the arrangement in the middle of it and tying it up to look somewhat presentable. 

“Do you know how to write?” You asked her, taking a pen and a small piece of construction paper. 

“Not very well.” She grumbled, making you let out a breathy laugh. “My dad lets me write while he helps!” You take her word for it, placing the paper on the wood of one of your stairs, leading her hand along the paper with yours as you write. 

“To dad.” She mumbles to you, telling you what she wanted the note to say. “I love you, from Daisy.” You see her nodding her head, content with her word choice. 

You finish the poor attempt at a note up, it being painfully obvious that she helped you write it, the words being barely legible. You were sure her dad wouldn’t care, you weren’t even positive he would care as much as she thought he would, a thought that made you worry this might have been a bad idea. 

As you finished putting it together, you watched her reach behind her neck, unclipping the beaded necklace and showing it to you. It was pink and white, with a flower charm sitting in the middle of it, a daisy. 

“Do you like that one?” Her eyes were hopeful. “It’s pink like your dress but you can pick a bracelet instead! No mean feelings! It matches so I thought it would be a better choice for you!” 

You assumed she meant ‘no hard feelings,’ which made you bite back a laugh. She was great at speaking for someone her age, but still struggled to pick the right words.  

It had a childproof clip on it, the odd one that you sort of just push together which really did make it easy for you to put on. It sat right between your collarbones, the size of it not quite being big enough for an adult, not that you minded. 

“This one is even more perfect than a bracelet, thank you, Daisy.” You tell her, handing her the bouquet. “Think it would be okay if I walked you home?” 

You thought it might be a good idea to take her home. You didn’t want her dad to think she was with a freaky stranger, but rather a neighbour, who was also a stranger, but one with no harmful intentions. 

“That sounds very okay to me!” She smiled at you, nodding her head as she reached for your hand. “I think my dads gonna love this with all his heart.”

“I sure hope he does.” You followed behind her, eyes widening as she began to run.

“Dad!” You heard her yell as she disappeared onto the property. 

The house was only two down from yours, their driveway being one of the many with chalk all over it. As you stepped onto the driveway you saw a man kneeled in front of her, his back turned to you. 

“They're beautiful, sweetie.” You could faintly hear his voice over the sound of someone mowing their lawn. You watched her explain something, hands flying all over the place. “Yes, I love them so much, best Father’s day ever.”

You walked up the driveway a bit further, still keeping a healthy distance. 

He engulfed her in a hug, holding the flowers behind her so that they wouldn’t get squished. When they separated he whispered something to her, the question making her look over his shoulder, pointing to you happily. 

His head turned to look at you, staring for a moment before he handed the flowers back to her, muttering something. She ran off into their backyard with the flowers, giving him a moment to stand to his full height. 

You had no idea what you were expecting Daisy’s dad to look like. Maybe someone much, much older than you, someone who wasn’t very attractive and who was possibly going to curse you out for talking to his child without him present. 

You were dead wrong. 

He wore a faded grey t-shirt, the words on it so worn out that you couldn't read them. His blue jeans had grass stains on them, only getting dirtier as he rubbed some dirt on the thighs of them as he approached you. He looked like he had been doing yard work of some sort, throwing the gloves he was wearing by the stairs that led to his side door. 

His hair was a pretty shade of brown, dark in most places but lighter in areas where the sun was kissing it. It was clearly long, but styled in a way that made it lay perfectly on the top of his head. The gold rimmed glasses that sat on his nose suited him well, complimenting the colour of his skin in a way that was extremely flattering. 

There was no way around admitting that the nameless man in front of you was the most handsome person you had laid eyes on in a very long time. 

The two of you stared at each other for longer than normal, not a word being exchanged as he stood in front of you. Each time you went to speak your words escaped you, only being able to smile brightly at him. 

It wasn’t everyday Steve found himself staring at anyone as breathtaking as you, nevermind having someone that enthralling standing on his driveway. 

The powdery pink dress you wore hugged you in all the right places, going all the way down to your ankles. The straps on the top of it were barely there, leaving the top part of your chest exposed. 

Everything from the bridge of your nose to the ends of your hair was radiant, leaving him speechless. He didn’t know if it was the sun's fault your skin looked so glowy or if you always carried such beauty with you. 

He wasn’t ignorant to the fact that you were seemingly younger than him, hoping that his staring wasn’t coming off in a way that would make you feel uncomfortable. 

You weren’t ignorant to the fact either. The only firm indication you had that he was somewhat older than you was the scruff that adorned his chin and the beginnings of wrinkles that formed when he smiled. 

“I’m so sorry about her.” His voice was as thick and smooth as honey, the sound sweet to your ears. “We were outside together and she wandered off… and I didn’t even realise until a moment ago, and now you probably think I’m a horrible parent.” 

His lips curved into a smile, freckled cheeks pressing into his eyes. 

“No! No…not at all.” You shook your head. “She didn’t stray too far anyway, I live a few houses down.” You pointed with your thumb before holding your clammy hands in front of your body. 

Your voice only made you prettier, a powdery pink haze filling his mind. 

It really was the best Father’s day ever. 

“She didn’t cause too much trouble did she?” His voice was slightly panicked, his fingers combing through his hair. 

“There was no trouble, she’s honestly the sweetest kid I’ve ever met.” You beamed. “I found her in my front garden, she thought my flowers would make a good gift for you.” 

Peeking behind his shoulder you checked to see if Daisy had come back. There was no sign of her as you looked back at the tall man in front of you. 

“She felt terrible she didn’t have a present for you, so there was no way I could say no to her.” 

He shook his head, a smile forming on his lips. As much as he didn’t love the thought of Daisy hanging around strangers, he was happy that she was at least sweet about it. 

“That… uh, that was very kind of you. Thank you for being so sweet to her.” He spoke, placing a hand in his back pocket. “Is there any way I can repay you?” 

You held your hands up, disagreeing immediately as you reached to grab a hold of the beaded necklace. 

“She already took care of it.” You could tell by his expression he was slapping himself internally. “Think I might’ve ripped her off though.” 

Steve couldn't remember the last time someone made him genuinely smile this much. He felt a bit stupid considering the fact he had been smiling from the moment he laid eyes on you, but he could and would blame that on you and the fact that you were wearing the necklace his daughter loved most. 

“I’m happy to hear that.” He shrugged. “I was worried her cuteness might’ve looped you in. Happens to me more than I’m willing to admit.” 

“Almost.” You tilted your head. “Her sob story nearly got me, but I toughed it out.”

He took his hand from his back pocket, once again wiping it on his jeans before holding it out to you. As you took his hand it was apparent his hand was much larger than yours, his hand feeling much firmer than your own. 

“I’m Steve.” He told you, shaking your hand gently. 

“Y/n.” You replied, letting his hand go after a moment. 

“Y/n.” He repeated your name. “Pleasure to meet you, thank you again for taking care of her.” 

As the words left his mouth he realised that was exactly what you did. You took care of her and looked after her, even making sure to walk her the short distance home. His chest was consumed with an unfamiliar feeling, like something was twisting and pulling at his heart. 

“It was nice to meet you too, Steve.” You backed away slowly. “I’ll see you around I’m sure.” 

“Yeah.. yeah I hope so.” He commented. “Welcome to Hawkins.” 

You walked away wearing a saccharine smile, trying to not let him catch sight of your face as you turned off his driveway. 

Steve knew for a fact you weren’t just new to the neighbourhood, he would have definitely remembered your face if he had ever seen you in town. 

Turns out, you’d be running into Steve more often than you thought. 

The first few times were when you both were crossing paths. He was leaving as you got home, or you were both heading out at the same time. 

This cycle of small talk and running into each other continued for a few weeks, neither of you daring to push the conversations much further. 

That was until one early morning around 5am. You were sitting on your front steps, a blanket wrapped around your body, a steaming cup of coffee keeping your hands warm. You were tossing and turning all night, finally giving up and deciding to start your day early. 

The sky was halfway painted with a pastel orange colour, the clouds and run rising with it. The air outside carried that crisp freshness that only the morning could bring. The grass had been tricked with dew overnight, the droplets of water beginning to clear up. 

The silence was enjoyable, the sounds of birds chirping made you feel less alone, their presence being welcomed by you. You didn’t expect anyone to be awake this early, mainly because you would never willingly wake up this early. 

Your silence was interrupted by the sounds of feet hitting against the ground. Your eyes searched for the source of the sound, not finding it right away. Turning your head a little further to the left, you were met with the sight of Steve. 

His face was flushed, a light shade of crimson sitting on top of his cheeks. He was wearing nothing but a pair of running shorts, his grey shirt hanging from his arm. Your eyes dragged down to the patch of thick hair that rested on his chest, the view of it making you pull on the skin at the back of your neck. 

Everything he did, every move he made, every piece of him you got to know more was only making him more attractive. You couldn’t fathom how you happened to move in two houses down from a man who invented the concept of dads being hot. 

You considered running into the house before he saw you, painfully aware of how you looked this early in the morning. Your hair was a bit of a mess, eyes dressed with bags, and you knew for a fact your face was still swollen with sleep. 

There was no time left to put that plan in action as he looked over at you, pushing the headphones off his head. 

“You really shouldn’t be out here all alone at this time.” His husky voice spoke as he stopped at the bottom of your stairs. 

“I could say the same about you.” You replied, clearing your throat to try and make your voice sound better. 

It was then, from the close proximity you noticed the deep spots under his eyes. He had the look of someone who was stressed out beyond belief, a certain rigidity to his whole body. 

“I’m clearing my head.” He yawned, leaning onto the wood. “What’s your excuse?” 

“Couldn’t sleep.” You told him honestly, catching his yawn after you spoke the last word. “Is something going on?” 

It might have been weird to ask him that, but you hoped he wouldn’t be taken aback by the question. 

“Ah.” He let out a deep sigh, licking his lips. “I’m gonna have to call off work for the second time this week, which you can imagine I’m not thrilled about.” 

Steve had mentioned in passing he was a paramedic. The job normally would have come with unforgiving hours, being called in at any time of the day or night. However, in a town this small, that wasn’t the case. He explained that he rarely got called in, telling you how happy he was to have a job he loved so much with hours that worked well for him. 

“Are you not feeling well?” You sounded concerned, raising your brows with worry. 

“No no, I’m okay.” He reassured you. “Daisy really hated daycare when we tried it. So usually I get one of her aunts or uncles to take her or come over and watch her, but…” Running a hand over his face he continued. “Everyone’s been so busy lately which puts me in a bit of a bind.” 

“Your wife works when you do?” Your question was genuine for the most part, an ulterior motive may have been present. Steve’s eyes widened before he smiled slowly. 

“It’s just Daisy and I.” He spoke. “Her mom’s not in the picture anymore.” 

“I’m sorry.” You shook your head, feeling embarrassed but relieved at the same time. “I had no idea.” 

“That’s okay.” He chuckled, kicking your stair with the tip of his shoe softly. “I’m sorry for dropping this all on you, I’m sure it’s the last thing you wanna hear this early.” 

The idea swirled around your head before it left your mouth. 

“I could help…if-if you wanted, that is.” Your suggestion did make his ears perk up, mouth falling slightly open. “I’m always home anyway, don’t really have a lot going on.” 

“I couldn’t ask you to do that, Y/n.” There was a tenderness to his voice, one you had never had the pleasure of hearing before. 

“You didn’t ask me.” You quipped. “I offered, Steve.” 

You could tell he liked the idea, he was just contemplating whether to admit it or not. It would make his life a lot easier, and you had proven that he could trust you with his child. 

“Are you gonna let me pay you?” He asked. “Because if you try and do it for free I might just lose what’s left of my mind completely.” 

Babysitting Daisy was a breeze. 

She seemed to like you a lot which made the time you spent with her a lot easier. The two of you got up to everything from playing outside to sitting on her bedroom floor while she showed you her books for what felt like the tenth time. 

At first, Steve only called you when he exhausted all other options, not wanting to burden you constantly. 

That quickly turned into you watching her each time he worked.

Daisy had expressed to him how much she enjoyed being around you one night when Eddie showed up to watch her instead of you. 

Eddie was incredibly offended by his niece's words, not understanding why her and Steve both seemed more keen about you coming over. That was until he had the pleasure of meeting you as he came to pick Daisy up from your house one evening. 

You opened the door a few seconds after someone had knocked on it. On the other side of the door was a man who looked extremely rough around the edges, his face and clothes covered in oil. 

“Eddie, right?” You asked him, voice a little hesitant. You wanted to make sure you weren’t handing Steve’s daughter to a complete stranger and by the looks of the man in front of you, you weren’t entirely sure this was the right guy. 

“I must have the wrong house.” He froze. You were way too pretty to be Steve’s babysitter, at least much prettier than he was anticipating. Even if you were actually the babysitter, he had no idea how Steve managed to get out more than one word to you. “You’re Y/n?” 

“In the flesh.” You tried to hide your confusion at his reaction. Daisy came to save the day, running into Eddie’s legs hard enough for him to let out a groan. 

“Uncle Eddie!” She screamed, hugging one of his legs. “Are you here to get me?” 

Her little mind was going a mile a minute, not even saying goodbye to you as she walked down the front stairs. She was young so you understood how her mind sometimes flew from one place to the other with no regard. 

“Thanks.” He nodded in your direction. The longer he thought about it, the more he understood why Steve was such a fan of you. Eddie imagined if he had such a pretty babysitter he’d want her around all the time too.

As you closed the door you could hear the pair bickering. Eddie let out a laugh, telling Daisy to stop pretending like she was happy to see him. 

You hoped not all of Steve’s friends were as strange as Eddie. 

Slowly, you began watching Daisy at Steve’s house more often. It was easier for you to be there so she didn’t have to bring a bag and all her toys with her. 

You had begun to pick up on housework while you were there. Doing the dishes, keeping everything tidy, and making dinner every night you were there, leaving more than enough in the fridge for Steve when he retired home. You usually only washed Daisy’s laundry, but on occasion you found yourself washing the dirty laundry that he was too busy to get around to. 

He was paying you way too much for you to just sit around and watch her anyway, so you insisted this was how you made things even. 

Steve would make a fuss about it sometimes, but he would be lying if he said he had a problem with it. It was nice to not have to worry about certain things after long days or nights at work.

He liked having you around, probably more than he should have. 

There was a tension growing between you and Steve, one that could only be ignored for so long. It was the kind of tension that was created when two people were obviously and painfully attracted to one another. 

It started with Steve having to watch you move around his kitchen, knowing where everything was placed, knowing exactly how he liked it. It progressed with the pride you felt each time he commented on how well you did something, your body burning with a sensation that only Steve could bring to you. 

Many stolen moments shared between the two of you continued to make the tension thicker. 

The short dresses you wore around him made it hard for him to breathe, his eyes not being able to leave your figure no matter how hard he tried. When you bent over to grab something the dress would rise up the backs of your thighs, exposing your body to him more than he thought he deserved. 

Reluctantly, he’d drag his gaze away before you turned back around, focusing on calming himself down and getting rid of the twitch in his cock. Part of him hoped you did it on purpose, that these moments weren’t a series of accidents that he happened to bear witness to. 

Steve didn’t make it easy for you either. 

He would always place a hand on your hip as he squeezed behind you, his front brushing against your ass as he moved. His hot whisper of ‘sorry, honey.’ played through your mind for hours each time he said it. 

You never missed the way he stared at you when you arrived at his house. His eyes examining you for a moment too long, making their way back up to yours where he would smile at you softly. 

You weren’t much better, the sight of him in his clothes for work had you in a tight grip, making it impossible to look anywhere but at his arms in that shirt that was a size too small. 

These moments were why you were shocked and hurt in a strange way when Steve called you one afternoon, asking you if you could come watch Daisy. 

“I thought tonight was your night off?” You frowned a bit, hating that he kept getting called into work last minute. 

“It is.” He felt a lump in his throat, the hand that wasn’t holding the receiver was on his hip. “I uh…I have a date tonight.” 

You never thought that four short words could leave you feeling so many things at one time. There was a pain biting at your heart, its teeth sinking into your skin hard enough to make your entire chest throb. 

The root of the pain was unidentifiable. There was jealousy and betrayal present, playing their roles together to leave you feeling like a fool for thinking that a man like Steve would ever want anything to do with you. 

You were his babysitter, nothing more. 

“Oh.” You sounded surprised. Steve could picture the ways your lips were curling in, a hand coming up to smooth your shirt down to cover up the fact that something was bothering you. 

Steve was only doing this as a poor attempt to resolve whatever feelings he was having for you. He thought there was a chance seeing someone else could work out and he would maybe be able to stop thinking about waking up next to you on slow mornings and kissing you each time he walked through his front door. 

Through this all, he found himself refraining from thinking about how things could have been between the two of you if this one small detail had been different. He knew there was no good in dwelling in what could have been, but he wondered if these thoughts ever crossed your mind. 

“Yeah, yeah I can come watch her.” You cleared your throat. “What time did you want me over?” 

He had never heard you like this. Choked up. Like there was something wrapping around your vocal chords, not allowing you to say what you really wanted to. 

“How’s seven?” He asked, the thought of cancelling the date bouncing around his head. 

“Whatever you need.” You tried to sound happier, but you failed miserably. Your remark came off caustic, leaving Steve with a sour taste in his mouth the rest of the day. 

You wanted to cancel on him last minute, ruining any prospects of his date going well. However, you didn’t have it in you to do something cruel to Steve when he was the last person in the world who deserved it. 

So, you went to watch Daisy at seven. 

Steve told you he would be home by ten and he didn’t lie. Right at ten he unlocked the door, seeing you sitting on his couch watching some random movie. 

He was relieved to see you, a faint feeling of happiness lingering within him as he stepped into his house. His date was nothing short of horrible and he had spent the majority of the time counting down the minutes until he could return home again. 

“Hey.” He whispered. “Is she asleep?” 

“Of course.” You hummed, standing up and gathering your things. You didn’t want to have to be around him for longer than you needed to. Pushing your feelings down was only going to work for so long, and looking Steve in the eye would have been what made them come right back up. 

“Thank you, I know it was short notice.” He walked closer to you, sensing this new kind of tension, one that he wasn’t so fond of. Steve grabbed his wallet, reaching for what he owed you plus a little bit extra. 

“It’s not a big deal.” You smiled softly, grabbing the money from him and putting your shoes on. “I’ll talk to you soon.” 

And with that you left. There was no goodbye, no asking him about his time out, and for the first time since he met you he didn’t get to hear your laugh as he made some stupid joke.

With that, he couldn’t help but notice the dishes weren't done and Daisy’s toys still scattered around the floor, left for him to clean up. It wasn’t like you had to do those things, but you always did. The fact that you didn’t do them should have had Steve running out the door after you, begging you to tell him what was wrong. 

But he didn’t. He stood there alone in his living room, frozen in place. 

For the first time in months, Steve’s warm and lively home went back to feeling like a cold and lonely house. 

Steve going on dates became a regular thing. At least once a week he was taking out some woman who he barely had any interest in, hoping he might like her more than the last. He felt like he was fresh out of highschool again, looking for someone to mend the hole in his heart that Nancy Wheeler had left behind. 

Only this time, he wasn’t trying to fill the hole someone else put there, he was trying to heal the wound in his heart that came from the knife he twisted. The job to fix it this time wasn’t easy, not when the women he was seeing were all dull and boring, not being able to make him feel a fraction of the way you did. Steve felt old again, like the single dad that couldn’t land more than a shitty one night stand. 

Part of you felt bad that all of his dates were going terribly.

He never went into the details much with you but you could tell by the way he looked that he was happy to return home after each one. He looked more drained than he did before he left, a deep sigh leaving his lips as he hung his jacket up. 

Steve was always home before 10pm, walking in either a few minutes before or right as the clock struck the hour, he was never a minute late. You were caught between thinking he did that to leave the dates earlier and to keep his word true, not wanting to make you feel like your time was something he would throw away.

Slowly, you grew to tolerate him going on dates. Swallowing down the poison that threatened to spill out of your mouth and stopping the tears that sometimes burned the back of your eyes. 

You both noticed that everything shifted back to how it was before that first date. From the extra work you did for him to the stolen intimate moments the two of you shared like a secret, whispering in the late hours of the night under the covers of a bed.  

That was until one gloomy Friday night. You made the short walk to Steve’s house, pulling the baby blue cardigan you wore over your body further, the wind being extremely unforgiving.​​ The white dress you wore was bright looking compared to the dark conditions outside. The clouds were a mean shade of grey, preparing to let out their anger in the form of cold droplets and cracks of thunder. 

You rarely knocked on the door anymore, letting yourself in with a faint greeting to anyone who may have been close by. As you walked onto the carpet at his front door you weren’t met with the usual sounds of Steve and Daisy singing, or the television being a little too loud as she sat in front of it, barely watching it as she played with her bead kit. 

Daisy was sobbing her little eyes out, whole body shaking in Steve’s arms. You were immediately panicked, heart dropping to the floor as you tried to understand what was happening. She didn’t cry often at all, in fact this was only the second time you had ever seen it happen. 

“Sweetie.” Steve sighed defeatedly, his white button up covered in her tears. “The sky is only a little dark, I’m sure it’s only gonna be a little rain, I promise.”

“Don’t go.” Her voice wobbled with fear, small hands clinging to the collar of his shirt. “Daddy I-I don’t want you to go.” 

You knew that might have just done him in completely. Daisy had that man wrapped around her tiny little finger, knowing exactly what she needed to say to get Steve to give in. She never did it in a bad way, only ever using her power to guilt trip him when absolutely necessary. 

Steve lifted her up, rubbing her back in soft circles as he turned around to see you. He gave you a sad look, mouthing ‘I’m sorry’. You only shook your head, coming closer to him and craning your neck to look at her tearful face. 

“Sweet Daisy.” You frowned, wiping one of her tears. “What’s going on?” 

“T-there’s gonna be a storm.” She breathed. “I don’t like thunder…I need Dad to stay and protect me.” You nod your head, thinking for a second. 

“I see.” You hummed. “That’s a real shame…because I had a really important secret to tell you once he left…” You sighed dramatically. “But I guess if I can’t protect you from the thunder…” 

“No!” She gasped, leaning off of Steve’s chest. “You promise you’ll save me from the thunder?” Her eyes were wide with excitement, the idea of getting to know a secret taking over whatever bad thoughts she was having. 

“I promise!” You held your hands up, “Wouldn’t let anything hurt you.” She squirmed in Steve’s arms, shouting something about changing into her pyjamas so she could be comfortable while you told her the secret.

He let out a painful noise as she ran up the stairs to her room. 

“I should stay here.” He shook his head. “If it actually starts to storm I’m going to feel like the worst.” 

“Steve.” You smiled sadly. “You’re far from the worst and she’s really lucky.” You whispered, noticing how handsome he looked right now. His hair was pushed back, one single strand of hair not getting enough gel, hanging in front of his face. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, releasing his pink lips from the tight line they were in. 

“I’ve got her if anything happens okay?” You hum. “She’s gonna be just fine with me here.” 

Steve was looking at you with nothing but adoration. His friends who he considered family all loved Daisy and cared for her greatly. But he was yet to find someone outside that circle, someone whom he wanted in a different way who cared for his daughter as much as you did. 

The way he was looking at you was making the lock that kept your feelings away come undone, letting them trickle out of their hiding place slowly. 

“Okay.” His voice was soft. “I trust you.” 

“Good.” You bit back a smile. “Because your collar looks absolutely horrendous.” Without thinking you reached up for it, smoothing the stiff fabric down. 

“Are you nervous?” You were trying to calm him down from what just happened, really not caring to know much about how he was feeling about a date that was with someone who wasn’t you. 

“Not really.” He watched as you fixed his shirt for him, your eyes focused on what you were doing. He noticed the way your nose twitched when you were focused, scrunching up when you were really trying to get something right. “I haven’t seen her since highschool, so it should be interesting.” 

You tried to avoid thinking about the fact that this person might not have been a total stranger to Steve, making the chances of this being a good date slightly more probable. 

Reaching behind his neck you smoothed the fold of his collar down. He didn’t know what to do with his hands as you worked at making him look presentable. Did he hold them in front of his body? Did he put them behind his back? Did he rest them on your hips like he so badly desired to? 

“Oh my, since highschool?” You breathed. “That was what? Forty years ago?” 

Your eyes flicked away from his shirt to look at him. He was still looking at you, nodding his head as he chuckled. 

“Forty years!” He laughed, making you let out the giggle you had been holding in. “I see how it is!” 

You lost track of what you were supposed to be doing, your hands resting flat on his shoulders as you both shared a playful string of banter through fits of laughter. Steve had more fun in those three minutes than he had on the hours he had spent out on dates combined. 

Your touch, your smile, your laugh, they filled his body with so much joy that for a second he forgot that you weren’t the woman he’d be seeing tonight. 

Once the sounds of laughter died down you removed your hands from his body, backing away a bit as you gestured to his shirt. 

“You’re all ready to go.” You told him, looking towards the stairs as you heard Daisy trampling down them as fast as she could. “And I think she’s ready for you to leave.” 

Your suspicions were proved correct when Daisy began basically shoving Steve out the door, saying goodbye to him as fast as she could. His exit was a rushed mess of him trying to bargain with her for a hug, but not being surprised when she barely gave in.

Next came the part of the routine that never changed. 

“I’ll be back before ten!” He shouted as he closed the door. 

11:47pm. 

You had been staring at the clock that hung in the middle of Steve’s living room for so long that you could barely read it anymore. 

You checked it once, then twice, then finally you ran to the kitchen to check the clock there, not believing what you were seeing. 

11:49pm. 

“What the…” You whispered under your breath, a hand making its way to your head. 

Steve was never late, nevermind nearly two hours late. Your mind ran rampant with terrible thoughts, anxiety serging through your veins as each new idea formed. You tried your hardest to not let yourself think that something bad had happened to him despite how badly you wanted to believe it. 

Daisy had fallen asleep a half hour ago, but not after she asked you a plethora of questions about where Steve was. It felt impossible to try and calm her nerves when your own were burning at the ends, the sparks catching on each dendrite, setting everything on fire from synapse to synapse. 

The worry you felt was intense, making your jaw tense, your teeth grinding together. Your nails dug into your palms, the dread trying to claw its way up your throat and take you under completely. 

As you searched through the notepad that was hung on the fridge for Robin’s phone number, the phone that sat on the end table by Steve’s couch began to ring. The buzzing of the phone scared the life out of you, putting you even further on edge. 

Your shaky hands grasped the receiver, bringing it to your ear. 

“Hello?” You tried to sound a bit more lively than you felt, not wanting the person on the other end to know something was wrong. 

“Shit, Yn.” He uttered. “I didn’t even realise the time, I’m so sorry.” 

Your heart felt heavy, like a large rock that had been thrown into a body of water. You were relieved to hear his voice, to know that regardless of what happened he sounded like he was okay.

“Steve.” Your voice trembled, your fingers squeezed the coiled wire of the phone. Before you could ask a question, he was speaking again, obviously being rushed for a reason that was unknown to you. 

“I called Robin, and she’s gonna come and pick up Daisy.” He spoke. 

“What? Why?” Your confusion was like a thick fog, covering everything around you and making it hard to see. 

“It’s late and I feel bad for not calling.” His speech sounded distracted, as if he was trying to listen to the chatter behind him as he spoke. “I don’t want you to be waiting around for me.” 

You didn’t know what to say, so you said nothing, waiting for his voice to fill the silence again. 

“Steve! Let’s go!” You heard the voice of a woman from his end, all high-pitched and filled with giggles. 

You felt sick to your stomach. 

You thought that something bad had happened to him. You were genuinely worried that the reason he wasn’t home and hadn’t called was because some unfortunate event took place. Not once did you consider the notion that Steve might have just been having fun and for once enjoying himself on a date. 

You felt so stupid for believing any of the lies you were feeding yourself. You got worked up over nothing, your worry turning into a burning feeling of betrayal. 

“I’ve gotta go, okay?” His voice was a little louder now. “I’ll come by tomorrow to pay you.” 

The line went dead. 

Steve was never this short with you, nevermind not doing as little as saying goodbye to you. 

It hit you slowly, putting together the pieces that told you exactly why Robin was picking up Daisy and why Steve insisted you head home. 

He probably wasn’t going to be returning home alone. 

The house felt dark, the ghosts standing in the room with you were the only things keeping you company. Everything was too quiet in contrast to the beating of your heart, throbbing against your chest like it never had. 

Robin showed up not long after, helping you peel Daisy from her bed. Luckily her sleep was enough to stop her from asking too many questions, her little eyes barely being able to stay open as Robin carried her downstairs. 

You had met Robin on a few different occasions, and given the way she was looking at you, she knew something you didn’t. 

Truly, she was sick of listening to Steve talk about you and do nothing about it. So, to see you in his house looking like a sad puppy made her want to kick him right in the ribs. 

After she had left you felt even lonelier than before, the absence of Daisy allowing you to experience your emotions even heavier. You decided to quickly clean up before you left, thinking that this might be the last time you babysit for Steve for quite some time. 

This tug of war with your heart was getting hard again, slowly becoming unbearable. For the first time in the months you knew him, the flirting and moments you shared didn’t seem intimate at all, they seemed like a really good way for him to string you along and win himself more favours. 

You refused to cry about something like this, not here, not in the four walls of his house. 

The sound of the water running as you washed dishes almost covered up the sound of the front door opening. Your ears perked up, listening to hear if he was alone or not, getting ready to awkwardly excuse yourself. You didn’t expect him to be home within an hour, not by the way he was talking over the phone. 

You didn’t hear any voices, no noises that would have signified someone was with him. There was only the sounds of him kicking his shoes off, feet padding to where you were. You kept your back turned to him, focusing on finishing up with the four items you had left to wash. 

“Honey…” His voice was thick with regret. He didn’t think you would have bothered to stay a moment longer than you needed to. 

But of course you did. 

You didn’t respond, not even acknowledging his existence. Your silence was deafening as well, causing a ringing in his ears the longer he listened to the sounds of water hitting the bottom of the sink. 

“Y/n.” His voice grew closer, his feet taking a soft step in your direction. 

You placed a plate in the dish rack, reaching and grabbing a dirty glass. 

Steve felt a lump growing in his throat, a lump made up of worry and fear, similar to the one that lived in your throat as you waited for him to come home. He would understand if you were mad at him for not calling, maybe you had plans after being here tonight and he ruined them, or maybe you just wanted to go home and- 

“Do you have any idea how worried I was?” You seethed, wiping the outside of the glass, not turning to look at Steve. 

His face grew softer, the wrinkles on his forehead smoothing out. 

“You’re never late and that would have been fine if you just called sooner.” He could see how tense you were, shoulders moving ridgeley with every syllable. 

Oh. 

“I thought something happened.” Your voice cracked. “I thought you got into an accident or got hurt.” The cloth slid into the glass, your hand cleaning the inside of it. “Do you know how fucking scary that was?” 

Oh. 

You weren’t mad at him, not in the way that he was anticipating. You were worried about him, the kind of worry that made you anxious and restless. He had to fight every urge to come and grab your face, to kiss you so softly that you forgot why you were worrying, being blissfully reminded that he was standing right in front of you. 

“God, Steve.” Your eyes close, head tilting back slightly. “I was so relieved to hear your voice for a second.” You looked at him, hurt etched into your usually glowing irises. “But then you made me feel like an idiot for worrying in the first place.” 

“Hey now.” He stepped toward you, reaching a hand out to hold your shoulder. 

“Don’t!” You barked, going to step away from him. Encapsulated in your sadness, you forgot about the glass around your hand, slamming it against the sink. 

The glass shattered, the debris flying all around the sink. The sound of it was loud, louder than the frustration that was booming in your head, pulling you back down to earth. A gasp fell from your lips as you felt something tearing at the skin of your palm. 

You pulled your hand back from the sink, your other grabbing your wrist and holding it tightly. 

“Jesus, Y/n!” Steve bellowed, grabbing the kitchen towel from by the stove. He reached for your hand again, unhappy to see you pull away from him. 

“It was an accident!” You trembled, the blood dripping from your hand onto the wood floor beneath your feet. You hated how upset he sounded, your face burning with embarrassment over what you just did. 

“I’m sorry.” His voice was soft spoken, his warm hand finding safety on your forearm. “I didn’t mean to raise my voice, but you’re hurt and you need to let me help you.” 

His hazel eyes searched yours for forgiveness, not only for yelling, but for everything that had gone wrong tonight.

“Okay.” You put your guard back down, letting him in again. He took your injured hand and wrapped the towel around it, placing your other hand back on top to hold it there. 

Steve guided you upstairs and into the bathroom, rinsing your hand off as gently as he possibly could. He stood behind you, his chest pressed against your back as he made you keep your hand under the water. 

The close proximity made it hard to breathe. The smell of his cologne filled your nose, notes of cedarwood and bergamot dancing around you. The scent was one that over time you began to associate with him, goosebumps growing along your skin with each whiff of it you got. 

What nearly pushed you over the edge was the way he was whispering words of encouragement to you as he poured alcohol onto your wound. 

“Just a little longer, okay? You’re being real strong.” “Breath for me, you’re okay.” “I’ve got you, honey, I’m right here.” 

The winces you were letting out weren’t all from the pain of your cut, but rather the sting that each thing he said was leaving behind.

Once he got the bleeding to stop enough, he took you into his bedroom. You had been in his room only a handful of times, coming in to grab his laundry without taking time to really look around. 

It was exactly what you expected his room to look like. The walls were all a plain cream colour, nothing on them. The floors were carpeted unlike the hallway, the brown material feeling nice on your feet. All of the furniture in the room was wooden from his bed frame to the thick walnut desk in the corner. The desk and the shelf next to it were covered in framed pictures. Most of them were of him and Daisy but the other few were of his friends whom he considered family. 

“Sit up here.” He tapped the desk lighty. You manoeuvred your way onto it the best you could without putting much force onto your palm. Steve opened a few different drawers, grabbing the various supplies he needed to help you. 

“My job comes in handy a lot more than you’d think.” He set everything down next to you, turning the lamp on the desk on. A yellow glow illuminated his face, extenuating his features in a way that made him somehow look better than he did before. 

“I can imagine.” Your voice was softer than before. You felt yourself retreating, opening the curtains again for him. He slipped himself between your legs, fixing the end of your dress so it was covering your knees. 

Steve was doing everything he could to make you feel comfortable, like he always did. You were hurt by his actions, but felt like a child for how you handled the situation. A swift feeling of regret filled you, making your gaze shift to his face. 

“Gonna bring your hand up, yeah?” He waited for some sign of you agreeing before lifting your hand closer to his face. “I can see a few pieces of glass in there, so I’m gonna take them out and then we can wrap it up for you.” 

“Okay.” You were trying to keep calm as he grabbed a pair of tweezers. His eyelashes fluttered as he plucked out a small shard of glass, dropping it into the small bowl of water he placed beside you. 

Steve looked so focused, barely breathing each time he brought the tweezers to your hand. The feeling was bearable at first, but the stinging quickly became a lot to handle. You let out a sharp squeak as he had to push the tweezers a bit deeper. 

“I’m sorry.” He glanced up at you, staring at you as he let you settle from the pain. “You should try and distract yourself, it’ll hurt a lot less.”

“How should I go about doing that?” You asked. 

“Talk to me.” He offered plainly, raising his eyebrows for a second. 

You knew he wanted to discuss the events of the night, so you decided to dip your foot into those waters hoping they weren’t going to be as cold as you anticipated. 

“I take you had a good time tonight.” The comment was seemingly genuine, but there was something bitter about the way it rolled off your tongue. 

Steve avoided eye contact after you said it, not replying as he sucked in a deep breath. 

“No, I really didn’t.” He spoke finally. “I had a pretty terrible time.” 

To say you were confused was an understatement. Nothing about the way the evening played out implied that he had a bad time from returning late to the laughter of the woman who was rushing him off the phone. 

You tilted your head quizzically, watching every small twitch on his face. 

“What happened?” You blurted out, wishing you had taken an extra second to think of something better to say. 

He continued picking the glass from your skin, glancing up at you for not even half a second. 

“We went to dinner, and it was fine.” He mumbled, shrugging his shoulders. “Then she suggested going to this bar.” His voice trailed off as he shook his head slightly. “And we ran into a few people…Eddie and Dustin and a few other people from highschool.” 

There’s a hint of pent up frustration in his voice, a tone so deep that its thickness was built up by an ongoing feeling of resentment. 

“She got really drunk.” His nostrils flared. “And by that point the date was more than over. She found someone else to entertain her. When I called you I was about to drop her off at home, which was probably the best part of the whole date.” 

He wasn’t rushed on the phone so he could run off with his date. He was rushed because he was uncomfortable, wanting nothing more than to leave and be home. 

Steve was a lot of things, but most of all he was a really good person. Of course he wasn’t going to leave her drunk at a bar, he was going to be the one to take her home and make sure she got in safe. Even if she made his night horrible, he wasn’t the type of man to storm off and leave her to fend for herself. 

“I’m so sorry.” Your words dripped with guilt. Steve wouldn’t meet your stare, keeping his eyes directed on your hand. 

“Don't be sorry…the dates are always the same.” He muttered. “I show up and they talk about themselves the whole time.” A sigh falls from his lips. “They have no interest in me or at least it dies off pretty quickly after they find out I have a kid.” 

After his fourth date with a different woman, you began to wonder why he never made it to a second date with any of them.

“But I guess I'm no better.” He pushed his glasses off his face, letting them sit on his head where they look like they’re about to fall off. You felt the burn of the alcohol seeping into your cut, the sensation making you bite back a wince.

“What makes you say that?” You reached with your free hand, taking his glasses off his scalp, placing them on the top of the shelf next to you. 

“Because the whole time they’re talking I’m thinking about someone else.” His gaze flicked up to yours, eyes locking like magnets. 

You felt paralyzed, not one part of your body daring to move in a way that might be even a little bit noticeable. Trying to process what you heard, you remained speechless. You thought you were out of the woods for a brief moment, the guilt you felt being accompanied by selfish relief. 

“Someone else?” You blinked rapidly. 

Steve couldn’t help but to be amused at your innocence regarding the subject. His lips were being tugged at the edges as he fought off the smile he so badly wanted to show you. 

“Someone else.” He confided. “Someone who listens to me, and cares about what I have to say. Someone who cares about my daughter almost as much as I do.” 

Your heart was working incredibly fast, beating in large thrums as it pumped your blood through your veins. The blood rushed through your body, making a pulse appear in every place where one could form. 

Steve cut and measured a bandage, the metal scissors making a clicking noise as they hit the desk. As he wrapped it around your hand, he kept talking. 

“I can’t stop thinking about her.” He released, securing the bandage by placing it around your hand a few times. “

“I can’t get the smell of her vanilla perfume out of my head and I really can’t stop wondering if that lipgloss she loves so much is anywhere as sweet as she is.” His voice was as soft as the silk of your pillowcase, keeping your face and hair safe as you slept. 

Your heart was beating so fast you were sure he could hear it, the sound filling his ears the same way it filled yours. 

He was talking about you. He was talking about the vanilla perfume you sprayed on each morning you left your house, making sure to put it in places it would stick. He was referring to the lip gloss that sat on your lips as he spoke, the strawberry flavour filling your mouth more than it ever had. 

“And sometimes I think about those nights when I come home and find her asleep on my couch…” Steve places your hand down in your lap, never letting go of it. 

“I never wanna wake her up.” His fingers reach out, pushing a small piece of hair from your face. “I wanna put a blanket over her and let her sleep soundly… or carry her up to my bed and let her sleep comfortably next to me.” 

Steve looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever set his sights on. Your beauty was intoxicating, making it hard to concentrate on anything but the way your smile was visible on your entire face. 

Steve thought he would have noticed the day that his innocent fondness for you grew into something more, but he didn’t. 

Maybe he would have if he was paying more attention, but he was too busy loving every moment he got to spend with you. He was hypnotised by how much he liked you to realise how hard he was falling for you. He was too distracted by the constant voice in his head telling him this was wrong to notice that you felt the exact same way. 

Your stomach contracted, nerves forming there and balling together. The hairs on your body stood on end, the air in the room feeling ice cold. 

Though it was obvious who he was talking about, you played along with the idea that you had no clue. 

“Why don’t you take this someone else out?” You put forth, not moving your hand from where it rested in his. There were freckles on his cheeks, spreading down his neck like the stars in the sky, making you want to reach out and touch them. 

“I’m not sure she sees me like that.” He said honestly, looking from your lips back to your eyes. 

“You won’t know for sure until you say something to her.” You hum, the pain that lived in your hand faded into the background, along with the hurt you were feeling earlier. 

“It’s more than that.” He shook his head. “I’m worried she might find this whole thing inappropriate and think I’m a terrible person.” His face held a genuine concern, one that you had yet to see from him. He was afraid of disappointing you and making you think of him in a way that was all too familiar with his younger self. 

“I promise you.” You sat up further, a begging look on your face. “She could never think anything negative about you.” 

Steve wanted to accept what you were saying as the truth, but a small part of him was still ridden with some kind of worry. 

“I’m still not sure it’s the best idea.” He whispered, his large hand cupping your cheek like it was a snowflake, delicate and light, melting if he touched it too roughly. 

“Steve.” You begged, his heart aching so strongly he felt it in his back. You pushed into his touch, rubbing your cheek on the palm of his hand. 

Slowly, you moved further to the edge of the desk, pressing your thighs into the sides of his. Your dress rode up, the edge of it sitting in the middle of the doughy part of your leg. You felt him move closer, pressing himself into the wood. 

“Tell me this is okay.” He whispered, both hands holding the base of your jaw up to your cheeks. 

“I can’t stop thinking about you either…no matter how much I try.” You breath, your hands wrapped around both his wrists. 

The longer he stared at you, feeling your breath fanning his face, the softer his expression got and the closer he got to giving in. 

“Please.” You say so quietly he almost didn’t hear it. It was the final push he needed to allow himself to give in to the thing you both so badly wanted. 

Steve rested his forehead on yours for a second, resting there as he attempted to ground himself. You stayed there peacefully, soaking it up just in case it was the first and last time you were going to be this close to him. 

After what felt like a lifetime of waiting, he tilted your chin up, capturing your lips in a kiss so sweet that happiness threatened to spill from your eyes. 

Steve took his time with you, kissing you so slowly that it felt like your heart was going to give out on you. His lips moved against yours like they had been there before, knowing each curve of them and exactly what to do to make you feel like you were floating. 

Your lips were softer than he ever imagined, and your lip gloss was just as sweet as he was hoping it would be. Everything about you from the tickle of your breath to the smell of your hair was making a warm sensation blossom in Steve’s chest, taking over all of his senses. 

Every inch of you was lit up with an incandescent glow, a garden blooming in your stomach, its roots travelling to intertwine around your heart. Steve’s hands on your face, his lips on yours, they were lighting you up in a way you never experienced before. 

Your hands travelled down his arms, curving down his neck to rest upon his chest. Right there, a little adjacent to where his heart lived, you could feel it beating against his chest so hard it felt like it was trying to escape from his ribcage. 

“You okay?” You grinned against his lips, not being able to stop it no matter how hard you tried. The feeling of your hand resting on his chest made Steve dizzy, making him feel like he was a lovesick teenager again. 

“Barely hanging on here.” His smile was impossibly large, causing a giggle to fall from your lips. 

Hesitantly, he moved a hand, pressing it onto your chest, over your dress, and above your left breast, holding it there flat. Your eyes were inviting him in, a silent and unspoken way of telling him this was still okay. 

“Are you okay?” He whispered with a smile, feeling your heart beating against your chest. 

“Hanging on.” A whispered giggled was pushed from your diaphragm. “By a thread.” Your comment was meant to be a playful push back at what he said, only it was the truth. 

He rubbed the tip of his nose on yours, the back and forth motion sending a tickle straight through you. The action was filled with care, but within it there was the promise of something more, telling you this wasn’t where he planned on leaving things. 

“Have you thought about this before?” He asks. The question would have been innocent if it weren’t for the heat emitting off his body, making the knots of sexual tension between the two of you come undone. 

“Many times.” You admit, your fingers playing with the top button of his shirt. Steve leaned into your touch, his hands moving to rest on your covered thighs. 

“Is this how you imagined it?” Though his breath is hot against your face, the chill that creeps down your back is cold. 

“Sometimes yeah.” Your eyes meet him as you pull the button out of the fabric, fingers carefully moving to the next one. “Usually there’s a lot more kissing.” 

Steve laughs softly, planting a kiss on your cheek, then another, and one more after that. He leaves a chaste kiss on your lips, one that has you longing for more. 

Another button pops undone, dark brown chest hair peeking out at you. 

“Have you thought about this?” You ask him, leaving a sticky strawberry scented kiss on his freckled cheek. 

His fingertips glide down, coming in contact with the bare skin of your knee as they creep under the fabric of your dress. 

“Many times.” He whispers, his own body suffering from the pain that anticipation brings. 

“Is this how you pictured it?” Your voice is gentle as you take out the fourth button, leaving Steve’s chest exposed. 

“Normally I’d have you in my bed by now.” He smiles at the noise you let out, a mix of a hum and a whine. 

There’s a syrupy smile on your face, a kind of smile you wear when you finally get something you want and are able to hold it in your hands finally. 

His hands are up on the dough of your thighs now, thumbs rubbing soft back and forth motions there. The whole thing is intimate and sweet, confessions being spilled between two people who yearn for each other. 

As you undo the final button your hand pushes against this bare torso, encouraging him to step back. 

Of course he does, letting you know that you’re in control as much as he is. His blood runs cold for a second as you slide off the hard desk, careful to not put much pressure on your hand. 

His brain runs crazy with the idea that something is wrong, like the reality of the situation just settled into you and you’re about to go home and never speak to him again. 

Steve is too stunned to speak, body turning slowly as he watches you for the first time ever rest your body against his bed. The white of your dress stands out against the darker colours in his room. Your being there added a lightness to the room, a gentle beauty that he alone could never bring into the space. 

“Now I’m in your bed.” You mused. The way he was staring at you was making you nervous, palms growing clammy as you waited for him to make a move. 

He hides a smile as he nods, walking over to where you’re laying. You feel the bed dip beside you, one of Steve’s knees pressing into the mattress between your legs. He rests a forearm onto the pillow beside your head, his face inches from yours. 

“And now you’re in my bed.” He beamed, kissing you slowly. 

The kiss was a bit more rushed this time but still as gentle as it could possibly be. Your lips parted slightly, allowing him to slot his tongue into your mouth, earning a soft moan from you. 

You pushed the wrinkled fabric of his shirt off his shoulder, pleased as he tried to work it off his body without removing his mouth from yours. Once it was off you ran your hands along his naked shoulders, ending your movement at the back of his neck where you scratched his skin kindly. The sound that leaves his throat is a groan that he tried to swallow, the noise getting caught in his throat. 

His palm smoothes over the skin of your thigh, fingers bringing the light fabric of your dress up, exposing your panties to him. He doesn’t break away to look at your body, instead letting his fingertips explore the new land that was your skin. 

Steve’s fingers trace where the lace rests on your hip, making his way around to where it rests below your tummy. There’s butterflies growing everywhere he touches, fluttering their wings against you where the feeling of his fingertips linger. 

There’s an ache that starts in your stomach, extending down to where you need him most. 

Right when you think he’s about to give you the satisfaction of a small touch, his hand makes its way back around to your thigh, squeezing your skin. 

“I’m gonna take these off, baby.” It’s both a statement and a question as he hooks a finger under the band of your panties. 

“Okay.” You say, reeling at the sound of him calling you something so sweet. You lift your hips for him, making it easier for him to slide your panties down your legs. 

He rewards the action with a kiss to your knee, a silent ‘thank you’. 

You didn’t realise how wet you actually were until the sticky lace was pulled from your core, a string of slick falling onto the sheets below you. You would have been embarrassed in any other situation, an apology forming on your tongue but quickly fading as you hear a guttural moan from Steve. 

“God, you’re beautiful.” He spreads your thighs open, leaving you on full display for him. His thumb runs along the edge of your dripping cunt, his mouth ajar as he watches how easily you open up for him. 

“Steve.” You whine, his mostly unintentional teasing becoming unbearable. Your hips jerk up off the bed, searching for his touch. He firmly presses them back into the bed, his hand holding them down as he eases down to lay beside you. 

“I’m right here.” He hums, holding your thighs open. “I’ve got you.” 

Before you can take another breath you feel his fingers gathering some of your slick, dragging it through your folds up to the bundle of nerves at the top of your cunt. He rubs your clit slowly, circling it with just enough pressure. A sharp sound of pleasure falls from your parted lips, eyebrows knitting as you relax into this feeling. 

Steve’s face is above yours, his elbow propping him up over you slightly. He’s watching every move of your face, enjoying every small sound you’re making while he strokes your cunt. Your body is still slightly rigid, he can see how hard you’re trying to stay still. 

“Sweetheart.” He whispers, moving toward you so that his body is resting against your own. He lets himself rest on his forearm again, pressing it above your head. “Breathe for me.” 

You move as close as you can get to him, turning your body so you’re facing him, a leg resting over top of his. You let out a shaky breath, holding his face loosely with your hand. His fingers and moving down every so often, the tips of them dipping into you before pulling back up to your clit as if he was playing an instrument. 

He kisses you delicately, pink lips moving against yours with tender care. His middle finger slides into you with ease, your body accepting it greedily. You keep kissing him, small hums vibrating through your body as he works his finger in and out of you. When he slips in a second finger, you break the kiss, moaning right into his open mouth as he curls the digits deep inside you. 

“That feel good, honey?” He asks with a smile, lips ghosting over yours as he continues the exact same motion. 

“Uh huh” You mewl, letting your swollen lips brush on his. You can barely think with his fingers inside you, the feeling of them blurring your thoughts almost completely. 

“You wear such pretty dresses when you come over.” His voice is deeper than before as he looks from the material back up to your eyes. “Are they for me?” 

There’s a new confidence in his voice, comfort and trust settling in, allowing him to say everything he’s wanted to for months. 

His fingers physically can't get any deeper, so he brings his thumb up to brush against your clit. You’re giving him the sweetest sounds he has ever heard and he hopes he can remember them forever. 

“They’re for you.” You manage to say at the end of a deep breath. “Wanted…” A whine rips through you. “Wanted your attention.” 

“That’s real sweet, baby.” He presses a long kiss to your forehead. The kiss is filled with love rather than lust, your words making Steve burn with the urge to care for you. 

He moves his hand a little faster, the sticky sounds of your cunt hitting against his hand filling the bedroom. He’s still managing to curl his fingers inside of you, your nails scraping against the slope of his shoulder. 

“You always have my attention, hm?” He tells you truthfully, feeling you arch into his hand. You can’t reply, only gasping at the feeling blooming in your lower abdomen. 

“Think about you the whole time I’m out.” He murmurs. “Come home early just to see you again, I can never help myself.” 

Your head is leaning against his shoulder as you sob out an obscene noise, your eyes shut tight. You’re clenching around him hard, your walls closing with every word that leaves his mouth. 

“S-Steve.” You swallow, breath ragged as the feeling below grows stronger. “I want you…I want you inside me.” 

Your words make his cock harden in his pants, straining against the black material uncomfortably. He so badly wants to let you have him, but he knows better than to try and fuck you without making you cum atleast once. 

“Need you to cum for me.” You’re rolling your hips against his hand, searching for more friction. “You’re so fucking tight, honey. You won’t be able to take it if you don’t cum for me.” 

“Can take it, Steve.” You pull your face from his arm, a weepy look on your features. “Please let me have it.” 

You’re desperate for him and you’re desperate to cum, the combination making you relentless to get what you want.  

“You gonna be good for me?” He looks at you, eyes gente but stern as he speaks. “Be good for me, sweetheart, come on.” 

The thrusting of his fingers keeps up, giving extra attention to the skin over your clit. Your thighs are shaking slightly, the muscles getting tight as you try and focus on letting yourself go. Steve whispering something to you that you can’t make out over the ringing deep in your ear. He’s doing everything he can to help you get there, his lips kissing your cheek repeatedly. 

There’s a high pitched whimper of his name as you tip over the edge, unable to control any of the noises you make. Your body feels heavy then light again, toes curling and calves aching as a delightful feeling spreads through you. You know Steve is gonna have red marks on his shoulder from how hard your nails are digging into it. 

“That’s it.” He praises. “There’s my good girl.” You can feel him smiling on your skin, his voice dripping with pride. 

Slowly he moves his hand from your cunt, your face pulled together as you adjust to the uncomfortable emptiness. You close your thighs around his hand, trying to make the shock waves of pleasure slow down.  

“Steve?” You breath raggedly, suddenly aware of how hot you are, your dress feeling suffocating. He can sense that you’re uncomfortable, a few lines of worry forming on his forehead. 

“Yeah, honey?” He looks at you sweetly, noticing the thin layer of sweat on your forehead. 

“Can you take my dress off?” You request, leaning into him so that you can kiss his stubbly chin. 

“I can do that.” He says, pulling his hand from your wet thighs. “Think you can stand up for me?” 

Steve’s making his way across the bed and onto the floor beside it before you can answer, reaching out a hand for you. He looks incredibly handsome right now. His tan skin is glowing more than you had ever seen in the past, styled hair now a bit rustled up but you know he could care less right now. The thick patch of hair on his chest makes you throb with need again, your eyes unable to look away. 

He sees you staring, a breathy laugh leaving him as he watches you slowly getting off the bed with your eyes attached to him. 

“You’re really handsome.” You whisper as you settle in front of him with your back turned to his chest. It makes his cheeks glow a soft pink as he kisses your shoulder softly, happy that you can't see his face. 

“And you’re the prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen.” He hums into the shell of your ear, thick fingers working to pull the zipper of your dress down. 

“I am?” You ask as he pushes the fabric down your shoulders, watching it cascade down your body. His hands are rubbing your back soothingly as the dress finally falls to the ground. He kisses your naked back a few times, a gesture that makes everything ache from your lungs to the space between your legs. 

“You are.” He confirms, his touch running down your sides before pulling your body into him. “Too beautiful for this world.” 

You feel something hard against your ass, pressing into you with need. You moan quietly, placing your hands over his as he moves them around your body. 

He urges your head to the side, tilting it so that your neck is on full display for him. 

“Too beautiful to let just anyone touch you, honey.” The first few kisses on your unclothed neck are innocent, starting by your ear and travelling to your shoulder.

To let anyone but me touch you. Is what he really meant, afraid to let the words fall out.

The kisses that follow are darker, his lips sucking on each spot of your neck they stop. He finds a spot he likes, biting at the skin there tenderly, his tongue running over the spot after each bite that is harder. 

“Feels like a dream to be this close to you, can’t believe it’s real..” Your mouth is open but there's no sound coming out, jaw slack at the bliss you feel. 

His hand runs over your tummy, greedily trying to get a feel for every inch of your body as he sucks and bites at your sensitive skin. The urge to touch him is overwhelming, it was completely tangible, yet it took everything to pull yourself out of the moment. 

“S-Sit down.” You request, secretly wishing he would never stop kissing you. “Please, Steve.” 

He reaches to hold your hand, not wanting to be away from your touch. Backing up slowly he sits on the edge of the bed, his eyes alight with elation as he pulls you closer to him. You couldn’t help but notice how much softer his eyes got whenever he looked at you, the golden hazel colour becoming a comforting light brown that felt like a warm drink on a cold day. 

“What’re you doing, baby?” He’s amused but curious, hands grabbing the backs of your thighs once you get close enough for him to do so.

You stand between his legs, bending down so you can kiss his toned shoulder. 

“Showing you this is real.” Your voice is angelic, light and golden as you whisper in his ear. 

You kiss along his tan shoulder, taking the time to kiss each freckle that adorns his skin. Your breath along his skin was amiable, heating him up both physically and mentally. The open mouth kisses you trail up and over his Adam's apple are wet and a little sticky from what barely remains of your lipgloss. 

His hand moves to the back of your neck, not to hold you there but to massage you and remind you that this was all okay. Somewhere along his neck your kissing turns into a gentle nipping, biting into his skin enough to make his pulse quicken. 

When you pull away you look at his skin, the beginnings of broken blood vessels present, but nothing that will leave much of a mark, unfortunately for you. 

“I don’t know how all of those women didn’t fall at your feet, Steve.” You run your fingers down the hair of his chest, your thumb running down to above his belly button. 

You duck your head down again, kissing the soft skin of his tummy. 

Steve groans like you’ve never heard. It starts out as a choked out word, transforming into an inaudible sound of disbelief. He sounds like he’s stuttering, trying to form a sentence but the pleasured noises from his diaphragm keep cutting him off. 

You look up at him with half-lidded eyes, the sight above you is so intense you have no choice but to kneel into the ground between his legs. 

His chest is heaving heavily, cheeks a burning red colour, beginning to look the way they did that morning when you saw him on his run. The way he’s looking at you is something you had never experienced. It’s hungry and sinful, but at the same time it’s gentle and beautiful, two things you were sure only lovers experienced together. 

Humming softly you close your eyes, continuing to leave feather-like kisses on his stomach.

Steve felt as if he was about to have a heart attack. He didn’t find himself in bed with people often, and when he did he was always left emotionally unsatisfied, even physically sometimes. 

But this was putting him into overdrive, all of his senses being overloaded at the same time to create a feeling that was burning him to his core. He feels energised but completely weak at the same time. He wants to give you everything right now, but for the first time since the fall of 1984, he’s okay with the idea of letting someone, you, love on him for a moment. 

“Steve.” You whisper, the sound causing his eyes to blink open again to look at you. Your hand is on the button of his pants, thumb rubbing over the small details on the front of it. “Can we take these off…” 

“Of course.” He sits back up from where he was leaning, cradling your chin in one hand. “Go ahead, my girl.” 

My girl. 

Your stomach twisted into a knot, heart beating in your ears so persistently that you were sure you must have misheard him. His words are so gentle, stare so intense, but instead you decide not to dwell on words that were most likely created by the heat of the moment. 

The button pops open, the zipper coming open slowly. You can’t pull them down anymore without help, looking at him with the beginnings of a pout on your lips. 

“Come up on the bed, honey.” He kisses you once you stand to your full height, guiding you onto the bed. 

You kneel into the middle of the firm mattress, shamelessly watching as he starts to take his pants and boxers off. He shakes his head as you make eye contact one last time, your lips turned up into a soft smile.

He pushes them down completely, stepping out of his pants and coming onto the bed next to you. You aren’t even looking at him, gaze caught on how his hard cock rests on his stomach when he lays down. 

The tip is bitten pink, one thick vein running down the side of it, he easily has the biggest cock you’ve ever seen, the size of it alone makes your stomach twist with need. The longer you looked at it the more you understood his persistence on making you cum before he fucked you. 

“Steve.” You swallow thickly, face struck with disbelief. There’s a hint of fear in your voice, a sound that he doesn’t like. 

“What’s wrong?” His eyebrows twist along his forehead, placing a hand on your thigh. 

“I’m not…I can’t.” You shake your head and place your gaze back to him. “I can’t do it…you’re too big I can’t take it.” 

Steve can’t help but smile, clicking his tongue in his mouth as he rubs your thigh. 

“You can do it, sweetheart.” He whispers, pulling you into his lap. “You’re such a good girl, I know you can do it.” 

“I can try.” You whine, melting in his arms like it’s nothing. “But I’m sorry-” 

“None of that, no sorries.” He kisses your cheek gently. “We’ll go so slow, yeah? Stretch you open nice and wide for me.” 

Your uneasiness fades into nothing, being replaced by the need to be close to him. You can feel yourself dripping on his abdomen, the slick connecting your cunt to his body. You feel hot, like if you don't get him fast enough you might just start crying. 

“Can I be on top?” You ask him, hands already locked around the back of his neck. 

“Yeah? You wanna fuck yourself onto me, baby?” He teases, managing to sit up a little bit with you on top of him. “Are you sure you can do it? Be a big girl for me?” 

Steve takes notice of how hard you whine when his words are a little condescending. Your focus drifting away, eyes closing as you smile gently and nod your head, trying to find the words to say to him. He never would have expected you to like it so much, but he’s not complaining whatsoever. 

“I can do it.” You nod, trying to find a stronger voice. “Need to feel you.” 

You placed your knees on either side of him, your hurt hand holding onto his shoulder. The feeling of the gauze there makes Steve feel it off him, checking that the bandage was still okay. 

He only looked at you, checking in on you silently the same way he did when your car broke down and he took it to Eddie’s shop for you. The room was loud and busy but even through it he gave you that reassuring look, reminding you he was right there if you needed him. 

“It feels okay. I promise.” You say quietly, earning a squeeze on your arm as he places your hand back down on his shoulder. 

You reach a hand between your bodies, taking his cock in your hand. It feels even bigger now that you’re holding it, one of your hands not being enough to wrap fully around the top half of it. Steve hisses when you rub your thumb over the slit, pushing the clear liquid leaking out around his burning skin. 

“Lift your hips a bit for me.” He suggests, opting to hold the back of one of your thighs to support you through it. You guide the tip of his cock to your entrance, the mere prodding of it against you makes you moan. 

You sink down slightly, letting his cock into you just enough to catch him there. Already your cunt is burning from the stretch, the wind being knocked out of you as you manage to fit the tip of his cock into you. 

“Look at you, baby.” He praises. “Already takin’ me so well, aren’t you?” 

The noises you were trying to conceal break free after that, a loud shaky whimper that has you opening your eyes to see his reaction. He’s staring at you the same way he always does, like you’re what makes the world turn on its axis, causing the sun to set and rise again. 

You try to sink down further, the burning sensation only getting worse. Steve can feel how much you’re stretching around him, your walls so tight around him that he’s moaning pornographically. He’s about halfway inside you now and you already feel full, having no idea how you’re meant to fit the rest of him inside. 

“Oh god.” You whine, pussy clenching around him tightly. “It’s s’big, you’re so big.” 

“I know, honey, I know.” He was rubbing your skin in any way he could, doing anything to ease the pain you were in. 

Your voice is almost as weepy as your cunt, dripping down his shaft more with each huff of air you let out. 

A little bit more of him pushes in, making your whole body tense in a way that has you pouting in discomfort. Steve knew this was bound to happen, never in his life had anyone taken him with ease on the first try. He hated knowing that this was hurting you, and by the choked up sounds you were making, he knew it was becoming a lot for you to handle. 

“I can’t.” You say, feeling embarrassed. “It’s too much, I can’t.” 

You had never had anything this big inside of you, your walls not knowing how to with it. The frustration bubbled up with the realisation that you wanted to move, to take him fully, but it felt impossible for a second. 

“Hey hey.” Steve whispers quickly, sitting up so he can tug you into his chest a bit. Firm hands rub your naked back, trying to calm the repeated whimpers you let out. 

“So brave, hm?” He tells you, letting you tuck your head into his shoulder. “Why’re you embarrassed, baby? I’m so proud of you, doing such a good job.” 

He feels you relax into him, shoulders untenseing, your gummy walls opening up for him once again. Steve chuckles as he hears you whine, pulling your face from his neck and looking at him again. Even though it's the first time you’re having sex with him, he knows you well, he knows what you want.  

“You were so sure of yourself with my fingers in you.” He taunts, feeling you sliding down his cock at a painfully slow rate.. “Not so tough anymore, huh? My cocks too much…what did I tell you, honey?” 

Your head falls back, a loud sigh escaping you when you’re able to take more of him, making Steve groan. He reaches to tug on one of your nipples, the sensitive bud hardening under his fingertips almost immediately. 

“I can do it.” You argue, walls fluttering around him with need. “Want it all.” 

You let out one last shaky breath, relaxing your body as you take the last bit of him. The fullness you feel is overwhelming, making it seem as if he was in your stomach. You’re gasping as you let him sit in you fully, trying to remember how to breathe properly. 

“That’s it, there you go, sweetheart.” Steve grunts. “You feel so good for me, your pretty pussy keeping me nice and warm.” 

“Oh my- mmm” You pant, fingernails scraping the back of his neck. Your head is a mess, thoughts floating around so fast that you can’t catch them. 

The burn of the stretch begins to fade slowly, clit aching with how much you need to move on him. He’s so big, but you know it’s gonna feel heavenly when you start to bounce on his cock, letting him really split you open. 

You try to move, try to lift your hips and move back down onto him but you can’t. Your thighs are shaking, buzzing with a cramping sensation with every move you make. Your hands move to his chest, trying to get leverage but they end up clenching into fists. 

“Oh you poor thing.” He teased. “Never been fucked this well have you? Don’t even know what to do with yourself.” 

“N-No.” You shook your head. “I need you to help me, Steve, please.” 

He’s grabbing one of your legs and untucking it from where you kneel, telling you to wrap your legs around him. It’s a bit awkward trying to manoeuvre your body when he’s inside you, every movement making you wince. The new position has the tip of his cock hitting deep inside your channel, rubbing on that sweet spongy spot that makes your eyes roll back into your head. 

It’s a sticky mess between your bodies, your slick coating everything below it from your inner thighs to Steve’s balls. Once you're seated fully on him, you can't stop moaning, feeling every single inch of him pressing into you. His thick arms wrap around you, practically hugging you as he kisses you over and over again, letting you whine into his mouth. 

Slowly, he begins pulling your body into him, moving his cock inside you for the first time. It’s sinful how easily your bodies slide together, the motion happening with no struggle at all. His chest hairs are brushing against your breasts, tickling your nipples each time you’re pulled back into his body. 

“O-Oh.” It’s a high pitched whimper. “You’re so…you’re so deep.” The way his cock is nudging against your cervix has you reeling, toes curling harshly. 

“You’re so fuckin’ wet, honey.” He murmurs, his nose nudging against your throat. “Feels so good around me.” 

His hair is a mess now, sticking out a few different ways, his lips are swollen a mean red colour, cheeks stained with a rosy blush. You wondered if he only looked this good when he was inside you, something you intended on putting to the test in the future. 

You move against him, not caring how much your legs hurt. The way his cock is sliding in and out of you is too good for you to not try and chase more of it. His fingertips are digging into your hips, holding you there as if he was afraid you were going to try and escape. 

“You hear that?” He whispers, looking at you with soft hazel eyes. “Hear how much she likes me?” 

He’s talking about your cunt, and it makes you dizzy. The lewd sounds from it are intense, a sticky squelching that fills the room every time his cock thrusts in and pulls out again. It’s delicious, and fuck does it feel good. 

Your moans have turned into sobs of pleasure, they’re desperate and breathy, begging him to not stop. It’s too late before you realise how fucked out you are, your emotions getting the best of you as you begin to mumble something that Steve can’t quite make out. 

“What is it, baby?” His fingers trace your spine, scratching lightly. 

“Am…Am I..” You choke out. “Am I your girl?” 

Steve’s face softens, pulling you back into his chest as he shushes you sweetly. Practically hugging you he starts whispering to you, not wanting you to be embarrassed for needing reassurance. He thinks you might be overwhelmed with pleasure, needing to hear him talk to you. 

“I’m right here.” He breathes. “You have me, I'm right here.” 

He can feel you shaking your head on his neck, fighting his biceps to let you look at him again. There’s a hollow feeling in your heart, a worry that he avoided your question for a reason. 

“Steve…Am I your girl?” Your eyes are glossy, lip caught between your teeth. “You called that earlier and…” You trail off, looking at him as you try and fight off the moans that threaten to spill. 

“Shh.” He whispers, one hand leaving your back to hold your face. “You’re my girl, honey. Ever since I saw you on my driveway you’ve been my girl.” 

He watches your expression soften into relief. 

“You’re so sweet and so perfect.” He tells you with confidence. “I don’t want anyone else.” 

With your bodies intertwined like this and the words leaving his mouth, Steve can’t stop feeling like maybe he had been wrong about love all this time. Maybe it wasn’t hot and cold or black and white. 

Loving you was warm, it was golden, like daylight. 

Both of your arms tighten around him, hanging onto him like your life depended on it. His fat cock is still dragging in and out of you, only adding to the immense love you’re feeling for him. He knows you’re content with his response by the long whiny sigh you let out into his ear. 

Steve can’t help but to reach down and search for your clit, rubbing the still sensitive bead as delicately as possible. The feels makes the pressure in your stomach grow faster, all the pain you felt before dissolving into a sugary sweet bliss. 

“Feels…feels good.” Is all you can get out, making Steve chuckle. 

“I bet it does, my pretty girl.” He growls, his cock twitching inside you. The same feeling is growing within Steve, his balls begging to drain with each thrust of his hips. “Can feel you tugging me in, know it must feel good.” 

You know you’re done for when you reach down and press a hand into the space above where your pubic hair would grow. You can feel the head of his cock against your hand, tapping it each time Steve pushes into you. 

“I-I…oh my fucking god.” You sob out. “I can feel you…” 

Steve’s hand is replacing yours before you can think to show him, licking his pink lips as he laughs. 

“Shit, baby.” He mocks, pressing his hand into it. “Can feel me in your tummy, huh? Pretty pussy…she's swallowing me whole.” 

Everything feels snug right now, from the fit of Steve’s cock in you to the space between your bodies. The bliss growing in your stomach is nearly tipping over the edge, making it hard to breathe in a normal pattern. The sound of Steve moaning and growling your name is making it impossible to keep off your orgasm, teary eyes dragging to look at him. 

“S-Steve.” You vibrate, body shaking again as you try and blink the tears away. 

“Yeah? Crying over my cock, sweetheart?” He’s taunting you again, knowing the impact it carries. “Just so bent out of shape, huh?” 

You don’t get a moment to think before you’re cumming again, white hot pleasure pulsing through your veins. The sob you let out is a scream, followed by several smaller ones back to back to back. You swear your ears are ringing, only being able to hear the small whispers from Steve. 

“There’s my good girl.” “Cum on my cock, that’s it.” “So sweet for me aren’t you?” 

As you come down your fingers tangle in his brown locks, letting him bite on the skin of your neck again as makes it to the finish line himself. He goes stiff against you with one final hard thrust, staying there as he paints your walls with his release. He thrusts a few times after that, letting his cock cool off from the overload of bliss. 

You stay tangled together for sometime after, catching your breath while you draw patterns into his skin. There’s a lingering fear in the air from both of you, not knowing what’s gonna happen when you lift your heads and see eachother again. 

He feels you move a hand over his heart once again, feeling it beating. 

“Are you okay?” You smile softly just how you did earlier. 

“Never been better.” He places a hand over your heart once more, feeling it for a few seconds. 

“Are you okay, honey?” He asks you. 

“Hanging on…by a lot more than a thread.” You whisper, letting your forehead fall against his before kissing him with the same gentleness as the first kiss you shared tonight. 

You felt at peace for the first time since you met Steve, not having to guess how he felt about you through shared glances and stolen touches. He was finally letting you in the way he dreamed of, feeling less scared of the idea of being loved by someone in this way. 

“Stay the night.” He whispered as he broke the kiss.

Your chest burned with happiness, your eyes smiling as well as your lips. 

“Is this to make up for all the nights you didn’t let me sleep here?” You asked with a light laugh. 

“Mm, yeah.” He nodded, pulling you closer. “And you know…you are my girl after all, right?” 

“Yeah…yeah, I am.” You whispered, looking at him fondly.

POV: Scrolling through Steve Harrington’s camera roll

𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐯𝐞 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary jealousy makes people do crazy things. when steve finds out you’re going on a date with eddie munson, he devises a plan involving one pair of binoculars, one robin, four adopted children and an important question. [7k]

warnings gn!reader, ditzy reader, protective steve, childhood friends to lovers, pining steve, mutual pining, fluff, love confessions, slight hurt/comfort, soft steve, steves pov, eddie fucking munson ♡ tw for toaster bathtub joke

𓆩❤︎𓆪

Steve knows you're outside not because you told him you'd be visiting him at work today, but because you're talking to yourself. You quieten as you pull open the door, a smile on your face that hasn't changed since he first met you in the third grade. Some kid had pushed you down and when he'd asked if you were okay you'd smiled just like that, like you hadn't been pushed at all. 

"What are you talking about?" he asks lightly. 

You stop in the middle of the store and blink. "What?" 

He skirts around the front desk and wraps you up in a hug. You're still at first like you usually are, though you slowly relax under his touch and hug back. 

"What were you saying? Before you came in?" he asks, rubbing your back with both arms. 

"Um… I don't really remember." 

Steve holds you at arm's length to assess your face. You're lying to him. He can tell from the way your top lip twitches towards your nose, almost pouting. 

You drop your arms from his waist and take a step back. Steve has years of knowledge on your whims and whiles and is reluctant to let you move away from him just yet, his hand clasped loosely around your wrist. 

You smile and your hands float at your sides like lily pads bobbing in the air. He decides not to pry, returning to his station behind the Family Video desk. You hop up onto the counter and watch him from over your shoulder. 

"Where's Robin?" you ask. 

"I'm starting to think you like her more than me." 

You smile at him softly and he doesn't know what it means. It's alarming. Robin appears from the backroom before he can work himself up over it, a crate of tapes in her arms. 

She groans as she puts them down on the counter. "I miss Scoops Ahoy." 

"Cute uniforms," you mumble.

"It's not the uniforms I miss," Robin says, letting her forehead fall to the counter. "My arms hurt. I'm not cut out for manual labour. If Steve were a better man he'd do all the heavy lifting for me." 

"Where's the equality in that?" Steve asks, looking to you to see if he's made you laugh. 

He has. Your lips quirk up into a startled smile as a rush of breath escapes you, a lilting miracle of sound. 

He realises then that he's doing something he's not allowed to do and decides to be a better man. "I'll do the rest, Robs." 

Robin looks up, surprised at his charity. "You will?" she asks, not trusting his genuineness. 

"Sure. Keep Y/N entertained while I'm gone." 

Once he's securely in the backroom he starts to freak out. He's been harbouring a mess of feelings for you ever since he hit puberty but has discarded them time and time again. Your friendship is longstanding and special to him, even when closeness with you has been hard to obtain. Not because you're purposefully distant, but because you're a total dreamer. 

Head in the clouds your entire life, Steve has wrangled through hoops to try and protect you from bullies, from bad friends, from your own distraction; you forget to eat, you're lucky you graduated because your attention span for anything that doesn't interest you is non-existent, and you hate parties so your circle is a closed loop consisting of just Steve. 

Now you've both graduated there's a lot of time to be spent together. 

Steve is suffering through it. His life feels like a constant game of look but don't touch. 

That might be unfair. He's definitely very touchy. 

You're giggling to yourself as he carries the second box of tapes in and heaves it down by the first. Robin's laughter is much more evil. 

"What's funny?" he asks suspiciously. 

"I'm giving Y/N tips." 

"Tips?" he asks, so used to Robin's absurdity that he starts to unpack his second box, elbows brushing Robin's as she hums. 

"Mm-hm." She taps her nails over a plastic case and leans towards him. "Boy tips." 

"And what would you know about boys?" he asks her. 

"I'm not stupid. Boys are like… frogs." 

"Frogs," Steve repeats dryly. 

"Slimey. Predictable. Easily disected." 

"Green," you say seriously. 

Steve chokes on a laugh and drops the tape in his hand back into the box of new arrivals to cover his mouth with a fist. 

"Babe, what?" he asks. 

You look at him and shake your head lightly. He knows he's not gonna get any answers from you, trying for nonchalance as he asks, "Boy tips? For who?" 

"They have a date." 

"You do?" Steve asks you. He almost snaps his neck. Robin coughs to cover a laugh.

A knife in his chest. Twisting. Steve's definitely been stabbed. He looks down to his sternum and doesn't find a wound.  

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asks, pretending that's why his lungs have exploded. He's gonna suffocate to death any second now. 

"I didn't think you'd have any boy tips," you say, clearly surprised at his surprise. 

Whatever. Steve takes a huge breath in through his nose and becomes your friend again, rather than a jealous idiot. 

"Y/N," he says, "I don't know if you've noticed, but I am a boy." 

"I've noticed." 

"So I know what boys like." 

"No, you know what you like," Robin says. "You don't know what Eddie Munson likes. You're different genres." 

"You're going on a date with Eddie Munson?" he asks you, almost shouting. Not his smoothest moment.

"Friday," you say, in the sometimes infuriating way that you do, like you have no indication that he's shocked. And he's shocked. 

"When did he ask you out?" Steve asks. 

Robin smirks behind her hand. Steve would love it if she had, like, a miniscule amount of compassion. An atom's worth, for his struggle.  

"I asked him," you say. 

Steve needs to flee. He can't because he would look insanely obvious so he cracks on his customer service smile and tries to stop asking questions. 

He fails. "You like Eddie Munson?"

"I don't know. That's why I'm going on a date." 

An insane wave of jealousy sloshes around inside him. Or maybe the slurpee he'd had a half hour ago. Whatever it is, he's nauseous. 

He's also confused (a common theme when it comes to you.) He'd had no clue you were dating, or looking to date, no clue this was a lane that was open. And you're so pretty, so magnetic, so disgustingly special and this Munson kid is gonna snap you right up if he has any sense at all. 

Steve isn't proud of anything that he does next. 

"I heard he's a drug dealer," he says. 

Your eyes are wide. Not in horror, as he'd hoped, but puzzlement. "Is he?" 

"For sure. The devil's lettuce, Mary Jane, marijuana, everything." 

"I thought they were all the same," you say, perplexed, your voice like an ebbing wave. 

They are all the same. He was hoping you didn't know that. "Right. What if he gets you hooked on something?" 

Robin frowns at him. "Since when are you so judgemental? We've been high together. Like, fifty times." 

He steps on her foot. Robin, unused to him fighting back so quickly, gasps in outrage and steps on his foot right back. What ensues is an undignified battle of shoes that has him throwing his arm out and hitting her in the stomach. 

"What's your problem?" she asks, eyebrows pinched. 

He holds his hands up in surrender. "Sorry! I think you broke my foot." 

He flinches when he remembers you're there and watching, only you're not there and you're definitely not watching, having made your way to the two boxes of new movies on the counter. You're sorting through them slowly and singing something to yourself under your breath so quietly he can barely decipher the words. The loudest part is your inhales, familiar, small intakes of air. 

"I told them boys like it when you slip them the tongue," Robin whispers smugly.

Steve steps on her foot again and gets promptly slapped in the arm, hard enough to ache. 

Later, when Robin's left and the store's finally closing and you're waiting at the door for Steve to drive you home, he tries to slander Eddie again. He almost feels bad. 

"You know he's still in high school, right? Isn't that a little young for you?" he asks. 

He flicks up the collar of his jacket and switches off the neon lights. You hold the door open, leaning against it with your back arched, like a doll that's fallen down. He pokes the naked skin you've accidentally exposed, a taunting sliver of hip, as he walks past you. 

"He's twenty." 

Again, Steve knew that. He was just hoping you didn't. 

"The whole still being in high-school thing doesn't bug you?" he asks as he locks the door. 

You shift from foot to foot beside him, cold now that the sun has disappeared for the night. You shove your hands deep into your pockets and kick the floor. 

"I don't know," you say. 

He feels bad for trying to dissuade you when you sound like that, insecure. 

Despite his selfish wants, he says, "No, I mean. It's totally fine. You're the same age." 

"Right," you agree quickly. 

"Right," he echoes. 

The two of you climb into the BMW and the silence feels unnatural. Conversation between the two of you has always been easy. Now it's stilted. 

He sighs, scrubbing a hand through his hair furiously and starting the car. 

"You know… I've heard he's really nice," he says. 

You perk up. "Yeah?" 

"He's in a band, too. A rock band. You like that stuff. You'd be good together," he says, unconvincing even to himself.

Each word could be demonstrated as a plier held to his teeth, slowly pulling. It's agony to stick up for his competitor. No, he corrects himself, not a competitor, because you don't like him. Steve's alone in his pining. 

"I don't know about all that," you whisper. 

"You don't have to be nervous, okay? I'm sure he's a nice guy and that you'll have fun." 

You don't seem very cheered up. 

He unclenches his jaw and sneaks a look at you. You're picking the hemming of your long sleeve with a thoughtful look in place. Steve thinks, Fuck, they must really like him. 

"Seriously, babe." 

You drop your head against your shoulder. "Can I sleep at your place?" 

He should say no. "Yeah, of course you can." 

"I think there's a racoon living in my attic." 

"I'll come take a look tomorrow." 

"Thank you." 

You tumble out of the car and up the gravel to Steve's house, unlocking the door with a practised ease before running up the stairs. Steve follows with little urgency behind you. 

"Babe?" he asks, closing the door behind him.

"I need the bathroom," you call. 

Steve nods and beelines for the kitchen, looking for something to make that you'll enjoy and that won't take a year off of your life expectancies. If Steve were by himself he'd skip dinner or order something greasy, but he thinks you should have a proper meal.  

He's got a can of soup warming over the burner when you come back down, having switched your outfit for something comfy, clothes you keep in the bottom of his wardrobe for such occasions. 

"Pee your pants?" he asks, grinning. 

You hit your hip into his on purpose and hoist yourself onto the counter to watch him stir. 

"Watch it! Can't you see I'm performing a culinary miracle?" 

"It smells nice." Your face floods with happiness.

"It's your favourite one." 

"They don't sell my favourite in Bradley's anymore." 

"It was at the back of the cabinet. Might get food poisoning," he says. 

He's lying through his teeth – he'd gone up to some fancy Indianapolis grocery store and bought a fuck load. He prays that your attention stays on him and not the cabinet behind your head where evidence of his affection hides in wait. 

"Yum," you say.

"There's ciabatta in the bread bin. Do you want, like, the works?" 

"Balsamic vinegar," you nod your head sagely. "Yes." 

He feels a tendril of fondness curl around his heart. 

-

Fed and watered you crawl into Steve's bed like you always do, smack dab in the middle, sheets pulled up to your nose. Your moaning nonsense to yourself about being greedy and evil demons that cause bloating. 

"I told you to slow down," he murmurs as he climbs in beside you, the two of you smelling like spearmint toothpaste. 

Your hands smell like soap as you bat at him uselessly. "Shut up, Steve." 

He moves onto his back and sighs. "You have such an attitude problem."

"I do not."

He throws his hand out fast and squeezes your sensitive waist. You gasp and pull away, giggling as his hand chases you. He digs his fingers into your ribs until you're panting for air, your legs kicking him away from you. 

"Stop, Steve. Steve, Steve, Stevie, please stop." Your words are garbled with laughter. 

"I can't hear you." 

"Stop!" you cry out. "Please." 

He pulls his hand away and feels smug at how little effort it took to get you that badly. "I didn't know you could shout that loudly, babe." 

"Only for you," you say, catching your breath. 

Steve feels his cheeks go red. Physically feels the blood blossom under his skin. He clears his throat and turns away from you, flicking off the light fast so you can't see his embarrassment clear as day. 

You calm your breathing and Steve calms his heart. After a few minutes there's a dead silence. Not even the sound of a passing car. 

"It's so quiet," you say. 

"It was." 

Your hand at his back. He suppresses chills as your knuckles move over the dip of his spine and then over, your palm smoothing down his arm until you find his hand. Another one of your quirks when you're tired and dizzy with content, you search for his fingers and twine them with your own as you talk. 

"Thanks for dinner. You're a better cook than you'd think, Steve. S'like being at Enzo's but with none of the tables and chairs. Or the music." 

He rubs his thumb gently over the back of your hand where it rests on his thighs and chuckles. "I'll give the chef your compliments." 

"Thank you." 

Another stretch of silence, broken up only by the sound of your breathing. Steve's more familiar with your breathing than his own. He thinks of nights where he'd feigned sleep and watched the rise and fall of your chest through barely parted lashes. 

With his back to you it's easy to pretend you're more than friends. He pulls your joined hands to his chest and worries your skin with the pad of his thumb, a thousand thoughts rattling around his brain. 

"Y/N," Steve says suddenly, unsure if you're still awake. 

"What?" you ask quietly.

"Don't listen to Robin, okay? Don't… don't try and tongue kiss Munson the first time." 

You inhale weirdly. "I won't." 

"Good." He moves your hand back to your chest and drops it gently. "Goodnight," he says.

You don't say anything back. 

-

Dustin sits under the Family Video desk with his radio contraption that Steve doesn't understand, him and Robin having entered a surprisingly easy conversation. Less surprising upon discovering the topic: Steve's ineptitude, Steve's idiocy, Steve's hopelessness. 

"I feel sorry for him," Dustin says conversationally. 

"Really sorry for him." 

"Because it's his third snub in as many years-" 

"And that's not counting each Scoops Ahoy disaster-" 

"Exactly. And, it's like, going on how many years of being friends?" Dustin asks. 

"Twelve," Steve says, resigned to his fate and feeling very pathetic where he manually ticks through returns on the computer. He doesn't even look up. 

"Twelve years to make a move and now he's too late," Dustin says. 

"Well, never say never," Robin says, her voice high. 

Steve frowns and looks through the screen for a moment before turning his gaze over his shoulder to where Robin lounges on the floor, legs crossed and a book between her thighs.

"What?" he asks. 

"What?" she repeats. 

They stare at each other. Steve's expression changes from depressed to incensed.

"Oh my god, you know something." 

"I don't know anything." 

They stare at each other more. Steve doesn't believe her even slightly. He knows Robin. They've been friends for an entire year by this point. Steve would even say that they're best friends. He knows when she's lying. 

"'Never say never?'" he quotes. 

Dustin has stopped messing with his technology to watch. His head moves one way and then the other like he's following a tennis ball, his brown curls bouncing around his ears. 

"It's a common saying-" Robin defends. 

"But why did you say it?"

Tense silence.

"You do know something," Dustin says. Excitement gives his face a boyish charm.

Robin closes the book between her thighs and smiles awkwardly. Steve feels his heart leap into his throat when she tilts her head to the side guiltily and sighs. 

"Shit," she mutters. 

-

Operation Stakeout is redundant, according to Mike. 

"An operation and a stakeout are basically the same thing," he mutters.

"That's not true," Dustin says, know-it-all tone in play. "A stakeout is always an operation but operations aren't always stakeouts." 

Lucas eats a handful of chips noisily. Max groans. 

"It feels redundant," Robin says. 

"It's about to feel jeopardised," Steve says scathingly, forcing her head back down where the six of them hide behind a trimmed hedge outside Enzo's. 

"When's it my turn with the binoculars?" Robin asks. 

"Never," Dustin says. There isn't a trace of sympathy in his voice. 

"Sexism?" she wonders to herself. 

Max snatches the binoculars from Dustin’s hand and brings them to her eyes, looking through the painted window of Hawkins best Italian restaurant for any sign of you and your date. 

They must look like a group of idiots. Half the gang are in dark clothing where Mike, Robin and Max had all refused to bother. Dustin had brought a camouflage net and strewn it over their heads, though most of them had shrugged it off, holding it to their shoulders like a terrible blanket. 

Steve waits impatiently for Max's report. 

"There they are," Max says. 

He can't himself as he springs up and searches for you. They'd all watched secretly as you'd arrived and met Munson outside. He scrubbed up well. It boiled Steve's blood. In a totally fun, carefree way because he's being very normal about this whole thing. You know, if you ignore Operation Stakeout. 

"Where?" 

He holds his hand out for the binoculars and Max drops them heavily into his palm. Steve almost blinds himself as he brings them to his eyes, squinting for a glance at you.

"Toward the left." 

"They're ordering," he says. 

"They're on a date," Mike says. 

Lucas makes a sad sound and eats more chips. Steve feels a sharp wave of pity for him though he quickly forgets it in favour of the look on your face. You're smiling wide but insincerely. 

"Y/N is not having a good time," he says happily. "Is it evil to feel relieved?" 

"Yes," a few voices say. 

Dustin shrugs. "Let's hope Eddie makes them cry. Or the other way around."  

"Dude." There's a silent conversation that Steve isn't privy to then that ends with Lucas and Dustin shoving each other. 

"Why are we expecting this to end badly?" Max asks. "Because I'm still not convinced." 

Steve watches you reach for your drink and tries not to recant his explanation with any bias. Tries. "Y/N doesn't like Munson." 

"We already knew that, to be fair," Robin says, still trying to defend you now that she'd possibly exposed your secret. Guilt is a new look on her. 

"Right, but not liking Eddie and liking Steve are two different things," Max says. 

"Well, why wouldn't you like Eddie?" Dustin says. 

"If you like him so much why don't you marry him?" Steve asks, deadpan. 

"Shut up." 

"I know who I'd choose," Max says. 

Steve waits for a follow up because he has no clue who Max would choose. When she doesn't answer he peels his gaze from your upturned mouth and finds that the rest of the group are giving Max the same curious look. 

"What?" she asks furiously. "One is clearly more attractive." 

"Which one, Maxine?" Steve asks. 

"Eddie," Mike and Dustin say. 

"Steve," Robin and Lucas say. 

Max is saved from having to answer by the ensuing argument. They can both drive. Steve is wealthy - "Generationally!" - where Eddie's less so. Steve graduated - "Barely!" - and Eddie's in his third senior year. 

"He's in a band," Robin says unhappily, like she's sad that Steve isn't measuring up. 

"Have you heard them play? Steve's definitely winning," Lucas says. 

"Steve doesn't know who Gollum is," Dustin points out. "He's, like, socially misplaced." 

"Does Y/N?" Max asks. 

The group ponders. Robin takes the binoculars from Steve's hands and aims them at you again. "Wait, did Eddie get the carbonara? That's a point for Steve." 

"It's an Italian staple!" Dustin defends.

"You'd think a cult leader would order something a little more adventurous." 

"Hellfire isn't a cult, Steve, don't be fucking offensive." 

"Okay, watch your mouth, Henderson," Steve says testily. 

His knees ache from hiding and his hands are frigid. It's dark enough for Lucas to switch on a torch as he offers Max his pringles. She wrinkles her nose in disgust and the poor guy looks dejected beyond words. 

A disgruntled old lady complains behind them at having to walk around them. Mike complains louder. "This is pointless." 

"It's not pointless," Steve says. 

"Yes, it is." 

"No, it isn't." He glares at Mike. 

"It totally is! You're wasting our night to perv on someone who couldn't be less interested in you." 

"I didn't ask you to come!" Steve shouts.

"I wanted to see you be wrong in person," he says. 

Steve sighs because maybe he is wrong. He doesn't know what he believes anymore. He's working on the tiniest evidence that you like him, a slip of the tongue. 

When you'd walked into Family Video a few days ago and asked Robin for 'boy tips', you'd said something suspicious. Steve doesn't think you know what you said. Robin thinks you're both idiots, though she thinks you're pathetic in the loveable way and Steve the pathetic way. 

"Why Eddie?" Robin had asked you while he was hidden away in the backroom. "I didn't know you liked the rock and roll type. I was thinking, like, Steve's calibre. Homegrown boy next door who's a little misguided." 

"Well, Steve's never gonna ask me out," you'd said. 

"Thank god for that," Robin had joked awkwardly. Steve doesn't hold it against her. 

When she'd relayed the conversation to him he'd been happy at first, because in most situations this would imply that you're waiting for it. That you want him to ask you out. 

But you're not like most people, and you might've meant Steve in place of someone like Steve. 

"I don't think he's wrong," Dustin says now. 

"You're the same IQ," Mike says. 

"You might be right, Wheeler," Steve huffs, holding his hands out for a turn. Robin passes them obligingly. "Y/N's so literal. They might've just been stating the obvious." 

"Or maybe they thought Robin was implying they liked Steve and got defensive," Max adds. 

"Or maybe it's exactly like it sounds and they have a crush on Steve," Lucas says. He wilts under Max's fierce scowl. "Or maybe they were being defensive." 

"Defensive isn't really their style," Steve says, not sure what side he's on, sick with hope.

"What is their style?" Mike asks. "Delusion?" 

"Shut the fuck up, man," Steve says. 

"You're such an asshole sometimes," Max says. 

They dissolve into bickering and Steve spies on you, watching through the binoculars with one eye pinched closed as you set down your cutlery. You're laughing. 

Steve pulls the binoculars from his face and feels maybe every stage of grief as he hands them off to Dustin. "Mike's right, we're wasting the night here. If Y/N liked me, we wouldn't be camped outside Enzo's right now under the world's most threadbare throw blanket." 

Mike clears his throat, and Steve knows he must have sounded pathetic when he, at odds with the cold indifference he usually sports, says, "I mean… People are complicated. El broke up with me last summer because my grandma died." 

"That is not why," Max says. She sounds like she wants to be mad but can't manage it. She sounds about as happy as she has all year, so Steve decides maybe the night isn't totally wasted. 

"Your grandma died?" Lucas asks.

"No." 

"He just grabbed Y/N's hand," Dustin announces, one eye pressed to the binoculars. 

His head is smushed against Lucas', who peers into the binoculars with his opposite eye and hums thoughtfully. "More of a caress than a grab." 

Steve snatches the binoculars. "Give me that," he demands. 

"You still haven't explained the spying," Max says. 

Steve finds you in the restaurant. Your hand is extended across the table. You're twisting the rings around Eddie's fingers, saying something he doesn't have the talent to lip read. 

"I thought that," he starts, morose, heart stomped on with every second you spend fawning over Munson's rock star hands, "if Y/N likes me, the date would be a total failure." 

"Right, like halfway through the date Y/N was gonna have this amazing epiphany and come crashing through the doors, like a rom-com," Robin continues. 

"That's stupid," Mike says. 

Steve agrees with him. It's stupid to expect you to throw away a good chance at happiness and keep a candle burning for him instead when he's never showed any interest in you before. But, in his defense, he didn't know he was allowed. 

"Whatever," he sighs. "I'm sick of thinking about it. Let's just go home." 

There's an awkward silence then where everyone feels sorry for him and nobody knows what to say. 

"Plenty of fi-" Lucas starts, voice lilted up in question until he's socked hard in the arm. He clears his throat. "Plenty of time left. On the clock. We can go get food?" 

"Steve needs ice cream," Robin says cheerily. He scrubs his face until his eyes hurt as she continues. "He needs to eat through the heartbreak. Ice cream, pizza, moon cakes, cheese balls." She turns to him fully. "I'm really sorry your love life is so sad, but look on the bright side! You now have an excuse to watch Splash on repeat." 

"Oh, goodie," he says. 

He gets a round of sympathetic shoulder pats and then everyone starts to pack Dustin's spy equipment and the snacks away. There's a pounding headache between Steve's eyes and his back pops in three places as he stands. He's getting too old for shit like this. I need to go home and sleep for twelve hours, he decides. And have a self flagellating bubble bath. With a toaster.

"Shit, they're coming out." 

They dive back behind the bush. Steve locks eyes with Robin. She holds her hand over her mouth as the door to Enzo's creaks open. 

"What size are you?" Eddie's asking. 

"I don't know. Do I have to wear the shirt?" 

A handsome laugh. "No, you don't have to. It's just for club morale. Plus, it's pretty sick." 

"It's not sick, it's cute." 

"No, no." He's being so nice it makes Steve feel terrible for wishing bad things upon him. "Not bad sick. Good sick, like awesome." 

"Right," you laugh. 

Robin starts to lift her head. Steve shakes his vehemently, begging her not to. She does anyways, her eyes shifting up over the green hedge line. He tugs her shoulder urgently. 

Robin starts to push against his face with her hands. It's increasingly difficult to fight her silently, especially when she smacks him straight in the soft part of his nose. 

He winces and covers his face with both hands. God, are you there? He thinks urgently. It's me, Steve. 

Robin gasps. 

Five sets of eyes whip to her and Steve yanks her hard to the ground, covering her mouth with his hand. She licks his palm and Steve throws himself back, sprawled on the ground with his elbows stinging, his heart hammering because there's no way you didn't hear all that. He waits to be caught. 

"I'll get it printed for you. Everyone has one. Like a uniform."

"Thanks for dinner," you say. 

"You're welcome. I'll see you on Friday, yeah?" 

"Yes. Thank you, Eddie."

Your voices stop. Steve lets himself collapse onto the sidewalk beneath, hair crushed under his neck. Your date must've gone pretty fucking well if you're going on another. 

Robin's face above him. Her hair hangs down, blocking slices of her face from view. 

"Don't sulk, Steve." 

He glares at her. "You heard that, right? They're going on another date. Leave me here to die." 

Robin's beaming. "Steve." 

"It's too late. I should've- I don't know why I thought this was a good idea. I'm a loser." 

"Could you stop feeling sorry for yourself for a second?" she asks. 

"What's the point?" 

"Steve," Robin laughs. "They didn't kiss." He swallows around the dryness in his mouth. "They didn't kiss," she repeats. "Eddie tried it, but…"

"Total head turn," Dustin says, the top of his head touching Robin's as he comes to stand over Steve, his shoes at Steve's shoulder.

"Doesn't mean anything. They're still going on another date," Steve says. 

"Dummy," Max says, joining the two hovering above him. 

Mike and Lucas join soon after. "You're definitely a loser-" Mike says. 

"Dude." 

"If you don't try," Mike finishes. 

Steve looks up into the circle of their faces. They look super weird from this angle. Too happy. It's never a good thing when they're all smiling the way that they are. Hope in this family turns into stupid decisions. 

"The head turn was on purpose?" he asks. 

He's crushed by their hesitation. 

"Well, it's Y/N," Robin sighs. She rolls her eyes at his expression. "Nah, I'm messing with you. It was definitely on purpose." 

He covers his face with his hands and stares at his friend's through parted fingers. "Shit." 

A ruckus of laughter and smiles as Robin offers a hand to pull him up off of the ground. "Alright, come on, dingus, we have work to do." 

"Work?" he asks. 

"T-minus six days and… twenty two hours until their second date," Dustin says, checking his watch. "Six days to make a move, Harrington. Can you do it?" 

-

It only takes him three. 

Saturday and Sunday are spent feeling sorry for himself and sick with worry that he can't make a move or that his move won't be reciprocated. 

But then he sees you on Monday and can't really stand it anymore. You'd turned your head. You hadn't let Eddie kiss you. 

Steve needs to know if you'll let him. 

You're all in blue today with your eyebrows pinched up, looking sad. He knows from experience that you aren't sad at all, only thinking, sitting on the hood of his car with your legs pulled up. You're demure. You're probably an angel. 

"How long have you been out here?" he asks, coming to a stop in front of you. 

"I'm too afraid to come see you," you say. It's more honest than Steve had been expecting. Certainly more straightforward than you tend to be. 

"You're seeing me now." 

You look up into his face. The sun behind you, your face in shadow and your hair kissed by golden light, you open your hands over your thighs. Steve thinks of Lovers Lake, the Victoria flowers bobbing on the surface. Green, soft cups over dark water. 

"I'm seeing you," you say. 

You twist your fingers together and the lily pad turns to a water lily, your fingertips a tight bud. 

You're nervous.

Steve crosses his arms over his chest and leans back slightly to take you in. 

He lifts his chin at you. "How did your date go?" he asks. 

"It was okay. Eddie's a nice guy. He's… interesting." 

"Yeah?" 

You hum. "Why are you asking me?" 

"We're friends. I want to know if you had fun." 

You shrug your shoulders and turn your haze to the hood of the BMW, scratching your nail over an imperfection he can't see. 

Steve's unnerved to see you so still. He waits for your legs to kick or for your hands to fidget, to wear holes into the hem of your shirt. 

"I don't think we're friends, Stevie," you say finally. 

He actually feels mad. It shocks him, but he does, and he won't shy away from it. "Why did you ask Munson on a date?" 

"He can drive. He's nice to girls. He's good looking." You stop scratching but don't look at him. Your ankle swings towards his car, stops before it hits the front bumper. 

Your answers hurt his feelings, little pinpricks of annoyance? Jealousy? He doesn't know what he feels. He was hoping you'd say something reassuring. 

He kicks himself quickly. You're not going to reassure him because you don't know he needs to be reassured. You don't know anything because he hasn't told you. 

You mumble something too low for him to hear. 

"What?" he asks gently. "I can't hear you." 

"I asked him because I thought if-" You stop. Steve watches your hesitation turn to distress and steps forward to take your wringing hands into his. 

"Don't do that," he says quietly. 

You stop rubbing your wrists. "I'm trying to tell you." 

"I know you are. Don't wind yourself up over it. Tell me slowly." He doesn't like this expression you're wearing. So unlike you. He wants to see your quiet face again, your features settled, your eyes bright. He bends at the waist to talk to you. "What did you think?" 

"I thought if anybody in the world could make you jealous, it would be Eddie." 

He works your clenched fingers open, rubbing his thumbs over the small creases in your skin. His heart thrums in his chest.

He smiles at you. "Now why do you wanna make me jealous?" he asks fondly, a hint of smugness creeping in. 

You raise your eyes to his and squeeze his hands. "Steve," you say pleadingly. "Don't be cruel." 

"About what?" he asks, his eyebrows pinched together in confusion.

"I know that I'm- I'm stupid, and distracted and-and I miss things, and-" 

"Hey. That's not true." 

You overflow.

"No, it is, it's true." You pull your hands out of his grip and cross them over your torso. Your eyes squint in efforts to stop the tears he can see gathering from spilling over, and your mouth twists up into a bitter smile. "Everyone says so. I- I don't know why I thought you would like me back." 

"You like me?" he asks weakly. 

You stop. "I thought you knew." 

Steve's eyes flit in disbelief from your eyes to your lips, wondering if you've truly just said what you said. 

Fine, whatever, he can be brave too. "If I tried to kiss you, would you let me?" he asks. 

The upset wanes from your face and is replaced by a lighter kind of lovely. You pout. "Why would you ask me that?" 

"Do you want me to kiss you?" he tries again. 

"I don't know what the right answer is." 

"I could…" Steve taps under your chin with his knuckle and lifts your face to his, eyes skipping between yours, the circle of your pupils dilated and shining. "I could never be cruel with you." 

You wrap your hand around the crook of his elbow. 

Understanding moves between you. He can pinpoint two realisations on your face as they happen. The first, that he isn't toying with you. That Steve had no idea how you felt, and that he hadn't known you were trying to make him jealous. The second, that you're about to be kissed. 

"You were right," he says, his thumb sliding over the apple of your cheek. 

"About what?" you ask, your eyes restless, clicking over each of his features in turn and getting caught on his lips.

He leans in, your mouths an inch apart. "Your date with Munson – I was jealous. But it's not about him. It's about you. You could've," he stops to laugh, bringing his second hand to the curve of your neck, "could've gone on a date with Keith and I would've been sick with it." 

"Really?" you ask. 

"Mm-hm," he hums lightly. 

Your eyes close. Steve hesitates still, can't believe that he hasn't moved in, but he needs to say it.

"If I tried to kiss you, would you let me?" he asks again, voice barely louder than a whisper. 

"Yeah, I'd let you."

His hands tremble with anticipation, a long time spent longing. He moves in, his ears pricked at the sound of your sweet inhale. A hitch, the same sound you make when you sleep beside him. The same sound you make when you're dreaming. 

He spreads his hand over your thigh and kisses you. 

Your lips are soft as a downy feather beneath his. You're shy, moving back as he moves forward, pliant under his guiding. He pets the juncture of your neck soothingly and pulls back fast, a short, chaste kiss. His lips burn. 

"Again?" you ask. 

He wades in carefully, worried to overwhelm you. You're like a wave cresting sand, falling back to push forward quickly. He's so elated to have his kiss returned that he sighs into you, palm spread wide over the dough of your thigh and squeezing carefully. He can feel your smile grow, your lips parting with it, the kiss inadvertently deepening. 

You pull back. "I'm sorry." 

His eyebrows furrow and he shakes his head. "For what?" he asks, rubbing your thigh. 

"Boys don't like it when you slip them the tongue on the first kiss." 

He blinks owlishly and has to step away from you to stop from laughing in your face, never at you, but laugh all the same. He smothers it with a cough and then doesn't bother, chuckling as he stands between your legs and throws his arms around you in a steel-armed hug. 

You giggle and bring your forearms to the back of his head. Your wrist craned, you sift your fingertips through his hair, nails running over his scalp fleetingly. 

"Right," he says. "Duh." 

"I remembered," you say, sounding infinitely pleased with yourself. 

He feels the heat of your body sink into his and wants to scream. The indescribable heat of your kiss plays over his chest, snaking tendrils. He feels weightless. 

"The second kiss though," he says. Strictly informative. "They don't mind it, the second time."

He moves his head away from yours to meet your eyes. They're lit with mirth. 

"Don't mind it, huh?" you ask knowingly. 

His cheeks ache with a grin as he pulls you back in. 

-

"You know, I saw you spying outside Enzo's," you say much later, your head tucked into Steve's chest.

He didn't know but he's not surprised. "Gonna cancel your date?" he asks.

"What date?"

"On Friday?" 

"That isn't a date. I joined Hellfire Club." 

Oh my god, he thinks. Eddie fucking Munson. "You're gonna have to kiss me again," he says morosely. He cheers up considerably quickly as you lift your chin, beaming.

𓆩❤︎𓆪

thank you for reading! | my masterlist

HORROR/THRILLER/SUSPENSEFUL STORY SETTINGS AND PLOT IDEAS:

[Feel free to use any prompt that shouts out to you! I would very much appreciate a tag if you post a story that was inspired by a prompt of mine! Happy writing everyone!]

A

amusement park (where the ride breaks down with everyone trapped on them, and there is a killer loose in the park…)

art gallery (where paintings trap visitors inside the frame and force them relive the scene the painting was based on...)

aquarium (where the protagonist gets trapped inside one of the shark tanks...)

B

basement (where the basement floods, there’s no way out, and there’s something weird swimming in the water…)

blood bank (where a blood bank is run by a vampire cult…)

board game cafe (where a group of teenagers are forced to play a game of snakes and ladders in real life, with real snakes and real ladders…)

bunker (where the captor holds his victim hostage in an old bunker and convinces the girl that he is protecting her from a world apocalypse…)

C

car (where a taxi driver picks up the wrong person and fears he may never live to tell the tale…)

castle (where the gargoyles come to life and attack the royal family…)

circus (where everyone who is hypnotized by the magician turns into a member of his unholy cult…)

D

desert (where a group of travellers are swept away by a sand storm and wake up in a haunted oasis…)

dungeon (where the visitors pay to torture subjects and the subjects are paid to be tortured…)

F

farmhouse (where the scarecrow comes to life and attempts to create a new body for himself with the farming family’s bodies…)

forest (where a lone hiker is caught in a bear trap in the woods and unable to escape, the bear is close by…)

G

graveyard (where the dead buried at the local cemetery come back to life and all the living people in the town die, except for you…)

H

haunted house (where a house manages to kill anyone who enters it…)

hotel (where the concierge is a vampire with a thirst for his visitors’ blood…)

house (where the family home falls into a sinkhole that leads straight to hell…)

I

island (where a new species of insect is discovered, and when the travellers get bitten, they start mutating into bugs…)

J

jungle (where a group of explorers start disappearing one by one during a rescue mission deep in the jungle…)

L

library (where the ghost of character killed off in a series haunts anyone who reads the book…)

M

military base (where a group of soldiers end up face to face against their canines who have somehow turned into werewolves…)

O

opera house (where the killer murders the musicians with their instruments...)

operating theatre (where an unwilling subject wakes up part way through the operation and is unable to move no matter how hard they try...)

P

prison (where the inmates are released from their cells and the officers are locked up in their place, leaving them at the complete mercy of the prisoners…)

psychiatric ward (where patients are forced to fight to the death in padded cells…)

pyramid (where archeologists discover an ancient tomb and unleash an ancient curse…)

R

railroad (where a cowboy spends his final hours repenting his sins as he lays tied to a railroad track…)

research centre (where the subjects loose the ability to either see, hear, or speak…)

S

sewer (where a family takes cover in the sewers when a nuclear missile is headed towards the city…)

shipwreck (where divers explore an ancient shipwreck, but the pirates are very much still alive and do not take well trespassers…)

space (where there is an explosion on ship leaving the crew without enough oxygen, there are only four extra tanks left, but there are six people…)

submarine (where there's an unknown killer aboard and no way to escape the deep ocean...)

T

tavern (where a knight is seduced and kidnapped by a handmaid who plans on avenging he sisters murder in the most heartless of ways…)

U

underwater (where evil merpeople kidnap scuba divers...)

university (where a group of students engineers create an artificial intelligence that goes rogue and attempts to create a real life body out of human remains…)

V

virtual reality (where virtual reality becomes a true reality, and to escape, 10 players have to survive all levels of the game, but after every level, the loser dies…)

Z

zoo (where the animals turn into zombies and attack their abusers…)

Same energy

Some people turn sad awfully young ... No special reason, it seems, but they seem almost to be born that way. They bruise easier, tire faster, cry quicker, remember longer, and ... get sadder younger than anyone else in the world.

– Ray Bradbury, Dandelion Wine

thank you lgbt people who are into horror

Steve x reader where the reader maybe hasn't gotten alot of sleep and so they are having a movie night and cuddling and she falls asleep and later the kids walk in and steve gets all protective and is trying to make sure they dont wake her up

I literally started giggling when I read this?

Warnings: female!reader, fluff, protective!steve,

She's Dreaming | Steve x Reader

Movie night was a special tradition in the Harrington household. You have been doing it every single Friday since you’ve known him and today was no different - except, the raging tiredness, stemmed from balancing schoolwork and the busy babysitting life of Steve, was taking a toll on you.

It was a colder night than usual, with light showers and heavy fog. Perfect for a movie night. If only you were in the mood for it. Steve was heavily anticipating watching The Outsiders, mostly due to the attractive cast but he wouldn’t willingly share that. You were both situated on his living room couch, a thin blanket covering you lightly, with a bowl of popcorn between you.

Barely an hour in, your eyes began to fall, forcing you to lean on Steve to stay awake. Of course, he welcomed this gesture and made sure to pull the blanket tighter, preventing anything from disturbing you. He had known how much homework wears you out, offering to do it for you even if he wasn’t the most academic person alive. It’s the thought that counts. He was hoping you’d take advantage of the movie night so that you could catch up on some rest. After all, he did care for you.

This wouldn’t be the first time you had cuddled up close to Steve. It was typical on a movie night. The low lights. The calm and peaceful atmosphere. Steve himself was just the perfect cuddle buddy and certainly wasn’t afraid to be the first to initiate it.

Staying awake was the most difficult part. Sleep was luring you into pure relaxation and the gentle warmth radiating from Steve was not helping at all. Steve was humming softly, playing with your hair between his long calloused fingers. Soon you were lulled to sleep by the sense of security Steve was providing.

Maybe thirty minutes had passed since you had fallen asleep. Steve was focused solely on letting you rest, turning the television down a few notches and covering your ears with the blanket. There was a light scratching noise emanating from the door and Steve already knew what was about to happen.

Before he could get up and stop the boys from causing a ruckus, he remembered you were asleep next to him and could not bring himself to disturb you. Knowing the boys, they would not be very quiet at all. After separate different tries to unlock the door, Dustin finally opens it, falling in along with Lucas, Mike, and Will in tow.

“HEY-“ Dustin attempted to say.

“Henderson” Steve warned, gesturing to your sleeping body next to him. “Be quiet.”

“I’m sure she’d love to see us, what’s the big deal?“ Lucas butted in, pushing past Dustin to look at you.

“She needs the sleep.” He whispered. “Quiet.”

Dustin shrugged his shoulders and sat on the couch opposite to them. “So what are we supposed to do?”

“You can go up to my room but I swear to God if you make any noise, you’re gone.” He glared, pointing directly at Dustin and Lucas. “And please don’t touch anything.”

They all sighed with Steve giving them multiple shushes. He pointed at the stairs and didn’t say another word, monitoring you to see if you were woken up. Once everyone else was upstairs, Dustin ventured down to harass Steve - again.

“So when are you going to tell her that you’re in with love her?” Instead of being met with a response, a thick pillow was promptly thrown at Dustin’s head, smacking him straight in the forehead.

Sleepin’ e. Eddie Munson, Billy Hargrove, Steve Harrington

How they would sleep with you next to them..

Eddie is probably at your house, in your bed and most definitely in clothes you washed the last time he was over. (A custom Black Sabbath hoodie and boxers) His hands are hooked around your waist, one of your legs between the both of his and your head tucked under his chin, forehead laying in his chest. Your hands are around his waist as well, drawing shapes on his back as you both fall asleep. Eddie mumbles a goodnight, receiving on back from you before you both doze off for the night.

Billy is also the type to be at your house, not because his room is dirty or unorganized like Eddie’s but because of his dad. He sleeps without a shirt and only in some of his basketball shorts he left over at your house a while ago. On your bed he’s on-top of your comforter with you next to him, your back to his chest and his arm around your bicep hugging you. While he starts off as the big spoon, throughout the night you both move a lot and he ends up little spoon by the time he wakes up. Instead of saying goodnight, he likes to kiss your forehead or if that’s not accessible he’d kiss back of your neck.

Steve likes you over at his place, not that he doesn’t like your house or bed but he believes his bed is the most comfiest and will debate with you about it. But Steve is another guy that sleeps without a shirt, but he wears long plaid pants that sit right below his V-line. Steve probably has to drag you to bed after a movie night in his living room. He little spoons..in a way. His back to your chest, one of your arms draped across his bicep and his head laying on the other, both of your hands locked around him. And your leg raised over and above his thigh. He doesn’t know how you sleep like that, but it makes him feel loved and secure so he’s all for it. You kiss his cheek and he mumbles a love you before dozing off.

The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 1974 blooper reel

How they would react to you hugging them from behind with agent Strelnikov

SCP Scenarios: When you hug them from behind (+ Agent Strelnikov)

SCP Scenarios Masterlist | My Works Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Rules | My Original Post | Request | Socials

(I'm so terribly sorry that this took so long, I was busy with college and had some work to do as well as a couple other requests that I've recently finished)

SCP 073 (Cain)

Probably is in the middle of cleaning his own bed while you came up and hugged him from behind

Cain would find it endearing and adorable

Most likely would hold your hand while you're there

Would lift up your hand and kiss it gently as he turns around

Probably would cup your face while he looks at you adorably before kissing your head

Then he would give you a big hug

Most likely would blush if you did it outside of your rooms

But he wouldn't back away from it

Feels more protective over you because he is just that type of (boy)friend

The foundation would be in awe and entertained by how Cain is wrapped around your fingers (literally and metaphorically)

SCP 076-2 (Abel)

Abel would be confused at first since he isn't used to physical affection

Would blush and finds himself enjoying it more and more

Shyly would ask you to hug him from behind again

Which is how you saved everyone from a breach

The foundation would ask you to do it again if Abel show signs of breaching the facility

Like Cain, Abel would be wrapped around your fingers

Most likely would give that threatening stare to whoever's looking in your direction while you hug him

Word got out and everyone manages to tease Abel, but only when you're around because they don't want to die

SCP 999 (Tickle Monster)

Would giggle a bit

999 loves any kind of affection for a start (No surprised there)

Probably would gasp and screech a bit when you hug him from behind without him knowing

Then he would tickle you afterwards so there’s that

Would be disappointed if you let go of him

Even though you both were attached to each other for hours

The foundation would find a cute sugary mess

They wouldn’t have the heart to break you both up

Some would consider it cringe but is happy for you both nevertheless

SCP 682 (Hard to destroy reptile)

Would tell you that it’s disgusting even though he clearly loves it

It would take a while but eventually, 682 would start to nudge your side for more hugs

Occasionally would tease this giant mf because why not

Tries and not let you do it in public though because he'll be embarrassed af

Everyone saw but didn't say anything until they got out and they started laughing

Even 079 was having a giggle about it

Made you swear to not do it in public but you definitely would just to destroy his ego (Just like your mirror, jk jk)

When the foundation wants to conduct a test with 682 and he's mad af (because he's on his period) they would get you to hug him to calm him down

Because the last time you gave him a back hug and he was still mad was the time you bonked his head and he went flying

SCP 049 (Plague Doctor)

Is such a gentleman about it

I can imagine he has this posh af accent (like the stereotypical British accent y'all like to imagine we have, and yes, I live in the UK) while speaking to you

Would put his hand(s) around yours while you're at it

Wouldn't complain at all tbh

Feel free to rest your head against his back and sleep because he would piggyback you to bed

Isn't too bothered about people walking by and just witnessing the scene

As long as nobody bothers you, then it's not really a problem

Probably would give you a little peck as well

Especially on those hands of yours (Not that he has a hand fetish or anything)

SCP 035 (Possessive Mask)

Would be the most vocal about it without a doubt

Definitely would reciprocate

Doesn't care if anyone sees

Hell, he would even let you do it in front of everyone

Would tease you as well or would even call you 'cute'

Sometimes when you both visit 049, you would hug 035 from behind and you both would giggle

049 just died of second-hand embarrassment

You both would tease how 049 is still single

The foundation would be done with all your teasing and stuff

Definitely is wrapped around your fingers (literally)

SCP 105 (Iris)

She would love it

Probably isn't as formal as 049, or as open as 035

Iris would be like the average girlfriend when it comes to affections

Most likely would reciprocate as well tbh

Maybe a little shy when you first do it, especially out in the open for everyone to see

But she would warm up to it pretty quickly

Sometimes 035 would drop hints or some dating advice

076 would think it's odd while 073 would smile warmly but would be a little worried about you both

343 would react like Cain but more open to the idea of you both dating

The foundation doesn't really bother much since you're not smothering them with your PDA

Iris would give death glares at anyone who looked at you weirdly, in disgust or made stupid comments about your affection

SCP 106 (Old Man)

Similar to Iris but more reserved

I would say 106 would be quite mutual, but leaning closer to liking it than hating affection

Would prefer if you did it in private where nobody would see

Isn't too much bothered if anyone walks by his cell while you hug him from the back

Definitely is in more of a docile and friendlier state when you do

Not particular huggy but would try and reciprocate

Ended up in crushing your ribs by accident

Never did it again

Literally cried when that happened

SCP 096 (Shy Guy)

Would be shooketh

Like he would be so confused

Affection is foreign to him so you'd have to tone it down a bit

Definitely relaxed after a while and finds that he enjoys is

096 lives up to his name, especially when it comes to affection

Like, he would be shai and embarrassed every time youhug him from behind despite you being so smol

You could literally see the blush on his cheeks (no hun, he's burning up from a fever)

The foundation would just giggle a bit at the sight of 096 being all shy from everything you do

Like, he's shy to begin with, but with you around, he's next level shy

SCP 1678-A (Bobbies/Policeman)

Loves it

A little bit like Iris, cus he would be all chill and stuff

Would definitely return the affection regardless

Even more so when you're both at home

His officer buddies would tease the living daylights out of you both

Especially your man ngl

Even the birds would spy of you both

Normally, he would be the one hugging you from the back

Probably bushes lightly

Would chuckle as well

The foundation would accidentally run into your private moment just because

Luckily you both were just having a passionate hug (No, not like that, you filth minded nuggets)

SCP 079 (Old AI)

(Imma be real here, I'm having a mind blank moment w 079 because I just don't know what to write for him in this one)

You'd basically be engulfing his whole body unless he had a robotic body of some sorts

Might be a bit of a Tsundere, but not as much as 682

Is pretty open to your affections

Sometimes 682 just wants to vomit from the sight

Could really care less about it

You do have some odd stares here and there whenever you hug 079

079 would most likely hack into the system so they won't bully you for hugging an AI

SCP 343 (God)

Is a little like 049 ngl

He would be quite chill with you showing some affection

Is probably quite reserved as well, but not as much compared to 049

343 would definitely relax with you while you hug him from behind

Thinks it's pretty cute and sweet

The foundation thinks you're an old married couple despite your extreme age difference - If you're an ordinary human that is (Y'all do be looking old)

343 does tend to ignore some comments here and there, mainly because it's quite harmless

But if it bothers you or if the comments aren't as nice, he will treat the situation calmly and kindly

SCP 173 (Sculpture)

Loves PDA just as much as 035 does

Comes at a close second, if not drawing in first place with 035 when it comes to affections

Doesn't really care if anyone sees

Will literally return the gesture whenever he can

Is quite sassy like 035, if not even more, so you won't need to worry about being judged

Peanut is basically like your personal guard dog in cat form that loves affection

Will melt every time you do that sorta hug

173 would be completely chill with you doing it in public

Might even encourage you or initiate the affection if you were quite shy about it

SCP Scarlet King

Would be slightly confused since he rarely receives the affection

And that his brides don't exactly return the gesture when he tries

Seems to actually like it whenever you're the one initiating the hug

Soon enough he would show the whole foundation bout your PDA

The Scarlet King would melt into your tiny arms

The foundation watching be like: 👁👄👁

SK might even go touchy touchy or kissy-kissy with you just because he can

If either of you ever gets judged, the Scarlet King most likely would judge them back

Knowing the foundation, they might either return the sass or just pretend it never happened to avoid chaos being unleashed onto them

Agent Strenikov

Sorry, I'm still not that familiar with Agent Strenikov, so my interpretation of him might be pretty off

First of all, Strenikov might try and stop you from doing that in the first place (because he's shy)

So he would probably ask what you're doing and might even act like a dick, but that doesn't mean he hates it

Would most likely realise that he had hurt your feelings just because of a hug

Would feel bad so he comes over to you and hugs you back

Lets you hug him whenever and wherever

His subordinates might even tease him from time to time in which he just glares at them from across the rooms while rubbing your knuckles

Might even threaten the guy if words get out

Dr Bright and Dr Clef definitely know so they tease him relentlessly while Dr Glass, Dr Lights and Dr Kondraki congratulates him for having such a loving partner

Thinks you're adorable when you hug him cuz you look like a koala

Dr Jack Bright

Loves that you just so casually hug him from behind

Isn't bothered about PDA in public in general

Does it to you quite often so he doesn't see it as much of a problem in that ngl

Clef would joke around about it from time to time

Glass would be quite happy that he found you and think it's adorable that you wrap your little arms around him

Kondraki is just relieved that he can be left alone temporarily and that nobody would bother him much

Sometimes would just tease you if you're not usually as handsy or affectionate and/or if you were just shy and introverted (Don't lie, we all know you're touch starved but you're too shy to admit it)

If you were shy, he would encourage you to do it more often

Dr Simon Glass

Definitely enjoys it but would blush

Even more so if it was in front of everyone

Would prefer if you did it privately

If you're you did it while he's working, then he would tease you by asking if while trying to distract him from work

Would chuckle when you do hug him from behind

Might even turn around to give you a kiss on the head as well as a hug

Glass would definitely relax into your touch

Even slept on you one time and you had to get Kondraki to get him off cuz your legs went numb

Dr Alto Clef

Would react like Bright

Doesn't really care if it's out in the public

Is even more of a tease compared to Bright

Would give everyone a lecture if they gave you an odd look

Might even show off how cute and affectionate you are while being protective af at the same time

TBF everyone would back off from you once laughed at then killed all the while, nobody knew where the guy went they've found out you were dating Clef to begin with

It's because the last time it happened someone got kidnapped, tortured, got tortured, then got laughed at and killed, all the while, nobody knew where that guy went

Not even you or Dr Bright does and that says a lot coming from the guy who hangs out with him on the daily

Anyways, not many people would comment about your affection

Only because they're glad that he's not bothering people as much now (Unless you were just as if not more chaotic than the guy)

Dr Benjamin Kondraki

I'd imagine him being similar to Dr Glass

He's quite an introverted guy, so he most likely would prefer to keep the PDA behind closed doors

But it doesn't bother him as much if anyone sees, despite his cheeks going red af

Unless it's Dr Bright and Clef

Most likely would get teased by them ngl

Has a burning hatred for them whenever they do tease him, even more so if they get you involved

Glass would most likely have to drag them back out again just because Kondraki is the favourite child

The foundation was surprised that he got a partner yet alone an affectionate one

hello I have another super fluffy Sundrop request!!!! reader and Sundrop playing house with the kids (with reader and Sunny being the parents) and then, after hours, reader shyly comments he would mind being Sundrop's husband for real 👉👈 hope u like my idea lol <3

now i wanna play house with sun :(( i wanna be this mfs husband so badly 😔

warnings: none

word count: 757

Sundrop had always admired how well you got along with the children in the daycare. And how willing you were to do it at that. You were a simple day guard for when Moondrop wasn’t active, you didn’t even need to talk to him unless it was an emergency. Yet here he was, playing house with you, his partner, and the children at the daycare.

He wasn’t going to deny how happy he felt whenever the children would refer to you as his husband, feeling his machinery start to overheat with each passing comment. You were quite red as well, smiling with a giggle.

You being his husband didn’t sound so bad if he was being honest. Logically, he knew it wasn’t possible, the most he could do was have a pretend wedding during your shift but he couldn’t stop himself from imagining it. In a world where he wasn’t confined to the colorful daycare, in a world where he was able to live with you.

Being able to wake up next to you each morning would be a blessing, and although he hadn’t been gifted the ability to sleep like the other animatronics, he’d be entertained by watching the rise and fall of your chest. That got him wondering, did you have any sleep habits? Such as drooling or snoring? Did you move around a lot? Sundrop would love to see it! It’d be so cute!

His fantasies played on his mind, absentmindedly going along with whatever the kids wanted. But it was very clear that his mind was elsewhere if your confused and worried glances were anything to go off of. Oh how he’d love to kiss the concern of your face, but he was incapable of doing so. Instead, he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, drawing a happy squeal from a young girl.

In his mind, you’d wake up as he waited, and then you’d prepare breakfast and he’d get your work outfit out of your closet for you. On your way out, you’d give his rosy cheeks a kiss and leave him to his own devices, demoting him to a house husband. Sundrop doesn’t think he’d mind that.

Later in the day, when most of the kids had left and the remaining few were too exhausted to keep playing, you and he sat in one of the structures, your head resting against his shoulder.

“You seemed pretty out of it today, are you sure you’re alright? Is something wrong mechanically?” Your voice sounded, soft and anxious as you looked up at him. His smile widened and he brought a hand to pat your head, running his thumb over the shell of your ear.

“No, nothing’s wrong, angel. Just thinking, that’s all.” He cooed, watching you shake your head fondly under his hand.

“You really are something.” You whispered, picking at a loose string on your blouse. Sundrop gasped, mock offense in his tone as he spoke up.

“My, my! Do you think lowly of me Y/N?”

You laughed, a wonderful sound that was music to his ears. Gosh, he would do anything to hear you laugh, to see the joy on your scrunched-up face.

“No, I meant it endearingly. I don’t think I could ever speak of you cruelly.” You assured, snuggling into his side.

“Ahh, good to hear, good to hear indeed.” He muttered, his fingers moving from your head to dance over your shoulders.

“Y’know,” You started, your face starting to heat up as you looked to the side. Sundrop took pride in the flushed look on your face, knowing he was the most likely cause of it. “I wouldn’t mind being your husband for real. Sounds kind of nice, actually.”

Oh, well that’s news. Was he malfunctioning? He may be because he’s entirely sure he shouldn’t be clicking and shaking like that.

Hesitantly, you pulled away, pushing away your embarrassment to stare at the flustered mess that is Sundrop. Gently, you poke his faceplate. “Yo, you still in there, Sun?”

It took him a moment before he was scooping you up in his arms, standing abruptly with a loud whoop that no doubt woke up a kid or two. “Oh, my Y/N! I was thinking the same thing! You’d be the most adorable husband ever! So pretty, I’m sure of it.”

“Sun!” You whined, burying your heated face against his chest plate, ignoring his booming laughter. But he caught sight of the bright smile on your face, a matching grin on his own face.

“Yes, yes, so incredibly pretty.”

hi!! I'm kinda shy abt asking this can I have a lil writing abt a transmasc (he/they) security guard confessing to Sundrop and/or Moondrop via a love letter bc he was too shy to do it verbally? Besides that, I don't really have any specifics besides just making it super fluffy and sweet! thanks for ur time >////<

gosh this idea is so cute im sobbing. i live for love letter tropes because i know damn well if i ever get a serious crush i will NOT be saying shit, it will be written on an amazingly decorated letter. i made the letter kinda cheesy but in a cute way...i think in a cute way at least.

i hope you're okay with me just doing sun cause i really didn't feel like writing this twice (i've been working on stuff all night!) but if you ever come back with some headcanons for sun and moon then i'd love to write some headcanons for them both. but, there are mentions of moon in this!

warnings: none

word count: 1.2k

Sundrop was used to being handed papers, sorting through them with ease no matter how sticky or unintelligible they were. So it was a bit of a surprise when a kid handed him a letter, bright pink and covered in stickers. Normally, the children didn't decorate the outsides, just using plain colors or crayons.

With his curiosity peaked, he set down the stack of papers he was going through, for once not paying attention to the giggling kid who ran off to someone's waiting arms.

Gently, he peeled off the tape keeping it shut, pulling out the vanilla-colored paper inside. Ohh! It was decorated so nicely! He'd have to praise whoever made it.

After getting distracted by the soft strokes of paint lining the letter, his eyes flit to the top, catching sight of the poetic words of the writer.

'Dear Sundrop,' It read, the handwriting neat and pretty. It couldn't have possibly been a child, not even the older kids had handwriting this neat. 'You are impossibly bright, a shining star in an ocean of constellations. No matter how mechanical you may be, you're genuine and compassionate, you hold my hands when I'm nervous and compliment me over the smallest things.'

If he could blush he swears he would be, instead, his left hand came up to cup his cheek as a wide grin crossed his face. He felt Moondrop inside him, his laughter echoing in his head. Though, it went ignored as Sundrop continued reading the letter.

'I admire your skill with the children, how soft you are with the young ones, and how you preach safety while still entertaining them. You adapt so easily to whatever you need to, the bells on your wrists are proof of that. Oh and the children adore you, always asking me about you. It's adorable how much they look up to you, their eyes shining with wonder. I'm sure I look the same when I look at you. I muster all the affection I can, yet I'm too shy to say anything. My cheeks heat up and I stutter around you. It's so embarrassing! But you've never made fun of me, you're too sweet, too gentle, for that.'

A gasp left his voice box as a thought popped in his mind, the face of someone special flashing across his eyes, yet he pushed it away, denial sitting heavy in his gut.

'Even when you get incredibly excited and get loud, you're always so...humane around me. You're you. You're not the daycare attendant, you're just you, you're Sundrop. And that's what I love about you. Like I previously mentioned, I would never say this to your face, I'm horribly nervous around you! But I can't keep being around you without making you aware of my feelings, especially since we see each other every day.'

'Sundrop, I'm in love with you. And that's just how it is. From, (hopefully) your favorite day guard, Y/N.'

And with that last sentence his head snapped up, the paper crinkling beneath his grip. There you were, a small smile across your lips as you kneeled in front of a kid. You were applying a bandage to a scraped knee like you hadn't even realized the effect you had caused on him.

He laid down the letter, letting it fall to his desk as he stepped around the counter. The children were too distracted with playing to see Sundrop's new object of attention, the day guard, the boy Sundrop so happened to have been crushing on since he was introduced.

Sundrop had always found you cute, always finding an excuse to touch you. Of course, it could be excused as Sundrop being overly affectionate to gain the favors of the new guy, hugging him and pinching his cheek softly. Your cheeks had always turned bright, looking away as you chuckled. Yet you never protested against the public displays of affection, and now he knew why.

In a couple of steps, he managed to be next to you and the child who was profusely thanking you for helping with their knee. With a cheer, he kneeled down, giving the kid a pat on the shoulder. "Hey, there bud! Do you mind leaving me and Y/N alone for a moment? I need to ask them something!"

The kid nodded, giving a thumbs up to indicate they understood before running off to a girl with pigtails. Once the kid was out of ear-shot he turned towards you, watching your face heat up at the attention. You knew he had seen the letter, and you were now playing with your fingers, embarrassment practically oozing from you.

"So? A love letter, huh?" He teased, poking your forehead.

"Don't make fun of me!" You cried, laughter bubbling out of your chest. "I just didn't know how to say it verbally alright." A sigh left your lips as your expression became something more neutral. "Nothing has to change between us...I just didn't want to keep any secrets from you. That's all."

Sundrop brought a hand to his chin, rubbing an imaginary beard before leaning forward, squinting at you. "Well, what if I want something to change between us, huh?"

He watched horror dance across your face and quickly realized how his phrasing could be taken and was quick to correct himself. "wAIT! Not in a bad way, I swear! I just mean I wouldn't mind...letting you do stuff that uh couples do, y'know?"

Deep in his chest, he could hear Moondrop snickering at his awkwardness as if the other half of his animatronic wasn't stupidly smitten with you too.

You giggled, bringing up a hand to muffle your laughter. "Would you really like that? Or are you just saying so 'cause you feel bad?"

"Now you're the one teasing! You said I was genuine and I'm being genuine now alright!" He wailed, flailing his arms. You jumped forward, pinning his stick arms to his sides as you laughed, your cheeks a soft pink.

"Whatever you say, Sundrop."

"Now," He started. "If you wanna...if you wanna do that romantic stuff couples do you can."

You gave him a grin before a look of false confusion crossed your face. "Like...kiss? Does the daycare attendant want me to kiss him?"

"I dunno...maybe."

And with that you reached forward, your hands pressing down on his shoulders before you placed a tender kiss to the front of his faceplate. Due to the nerves that were carefully crafted in each animatronic, he felt it as if it were a regular kiss. Sundrop felt the way your lips brushed against his face, the way soft laughter could be heard in your throat, and the way your thumbs gently ran over the plating of his shoulders.

You pulled back, watching as the animatronic just stared at you, clicks and squeaks coming from his voice box. "Don't tell me I broke you." You said, tilting your head to the side.

It took him a moment before he shook his head and stood to his full height which was a whopping seven feet tall. "Nope! I'm doin' just fine! Feel like I just drank a pack of Fizzy Faz though..."

"Respectfully, you always feel like that." You commented, smiling up at him. Sundrop waved his hand in dismissal before plopping them on his hips and leaning forward.

"Y'know, for someone so shy, you're such a tease Y/N." He admitted, glancing over when a kid called his name. "Oh! Looks like I'm being called elsewhere! Buh-bye!"

And with that he was gone, not hearing your endearing comment of "I'm only a tease for you."

Imagine Sundrop Seeing Your Scars

TW: Self-Harm Scars

Relationships: Sundrop x Reader

Word Count: 1335

Tags: Sundrop is a sweetheart, Sundrop, Moondrop (mentioned), Daycare Attendant, FNAF, Five Nights at Freddy’s; Security Breach, Reader-Insert, Chubby Reader, Gender Neutral Reader, Established Friendship, Fluff

The day you finally were able to wear short-sleeves was a blessing. You’d been working at Freddy Fazbear's PizzaPlex for a hot minute. The uniform you got to wear as an assistant Daycare Attendant was hastily thrown together considering the idea was thrown out originally, but with all the bad reviews, they thought having an actual human helping out the animatronic would help. So, when you’d been hired, they had thrown a long-sleeved shirt at you, a pajama hat, poofy pants, and some ribbon bands to mimic the ones upon the Daycare Attendants. It hadn’t been ideal for you since you were pretty chubby as it is. Running around, keeping up and entertaining children was hard work. But, hey - as a suffering college kid, you managed. So, after about month three, they handed you a shirt in your size and said to wear it the next day, you could say you could feel some relief.

The shirt looked like the long-sleeved one, just with actual buttons on the chest for design instead of printed ones. It was nice though. Sundrop had complimented you on it, giving a little push to one of your buttons when you’d arrived. Everything went fine for the day, though you had basically been separated from Sundrop to have a side table of arts and crafts for the children to come and go as they pleased. It had been an idea you’d submitted to your boss, who begrudgingly let you do it.

Ever since you’d been hired, it had in fact had a positive effect on the PizzaPlex’s reviews. Kids felt more safe with you around during naptime as you were able to calm the Moon animatronic and make sure they were well taken care of in a more human-like manner. Don’t get me wrong, Sundrop and Moondrop definitely were human in their own way. You’d at first, found the animatronic to be quite creepy though fascinating with how advanced their A.I. system was. They both truly had their own personalities and flaws, but it wasn’t like error codes being thrown around. There was genuine human emotion. Sundrop with his need to please and OCD cleaning. Moondrop with his strict punishment towards human children despite not following rules himself when nighttime came. They shared some characteristics though not many.

Despite being freaked out at first, they’d grown on you. You’d spend many nights still there, playing with Sundrop or having deep talks with Moondrop. Tonight was no different. You’d been hidden by Sundrop in the room behind the curtains of his tower. It still was so exciting to see how strong he was when he picked up your chubby body to bring you up there. You didn’t trust any human to pick you up as you were afraid they’d drop you, but with Sun or Moon, you let them whenever the opportunity arises.

You were instantly being shown some new items that Sundrop had been given to entertain the children. He excitedly showed you the small versions of some instruments.

“See! Look at all these fun things! I have like three different drums, a few flutes, tambourines, ukuleles and guitars! Here, here! Try it out!”

The tall animatronic hunched over, your eyes trailing over his happy smile. You grinned at him, taking the tambourine from him, giving it a little shake. It was cute and small, definitely painted to match Sundrop's theme.

“Well, big guy, what are you gonna play?” You asked, glancing at the rest of the many different types of tiny instruments.

“Hmmm! Good question, little sunshine. I was thinking the maracas! Look! They have painted on them Moondrop’s and my faces!”

Sundrop turned to pick them up and held them down to your level. You couldn’t help but to giggle and nod.

“Those are pretty cool, my dude.”

The chittering noise of happiness came from Sundrop as he gave a little nod, face giving a spin.

“I thought so too. Okay, okay. Let’s go! Let’s start in - One, two, three!”

You felt a little silly, though in a good way. You held up the tambourine and began shaking it, with the occasional hit to it. Sundrop added in the unique noise of a shaking maraca, which made you giggle with glee. He was too precious.

You’d finally been able to let yourself be free and playful. It was something you struggled with, since you had to grow up so soon as a child. It was easier to have fun and be relaxed around Sundrop and Moondrop. They were literally unable to harm you, could be super silly and sweet. Overall, they’d helped you grow a lot in healing your inner child. That didn’t mean you still weren’t scarred from it.

That’s why after a bit of playing around with the instruments, you noticed the sounds of the maracas stop. You’d been giving the occasional spin around for flair when you heard a slight noise come from the animatronic. Your playing slowly ceased when Sundrop knelt down on his knees in front of you. For an animatronic, he was quite expressive without facial features. Your eyebrows furrowed and you stopped, mouth parting to ask him what was wrong, but was interrupted by Sundrop.

“Sunshine…” Sundrop croaked out, his large hand reaching out to grab your hand. He gently took the tambourine from you, setting it aside as his gaze looked to yours. His touch was warm, soft from the silicone padding he had. A little sniffle came from his voice box, causing you to shift uncomfortably.

“Who… Who hurt you?” This time, his voice was quiet. It was very different from his usual boisterous voice that could echo in the whole daycare if he wasn’t too careful. That’s when you realized what he was talking about. Your self-harm scars. They littered both arms but the one you’d been using to hold the small instrument was more affected than the other.

By the time you realized what he was talking about, you were engulfed into his embrace. This wasn’t the first time Sundrop had hugged you, but this time he was being extra gentle. Hand coming to press into your lower back, bringing you closer. The other cupped the back of your head as he craned his head down to press his face to the top of your head. You were grateful his sun spikes were soft as one gently grazed the top of your head. At this point, you were flushed. Hands up on his chest as he clung to your much smaller form.

“I-I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, I’msorryI’msorrysorry so so sorry.” Sundrop began babbling this out, your eyes watering. For a moment, you felt ashamed of your scars. You were making this poor animatronic basically feel sympathy for your sufferings and in a way, it hurt. To have someone acknowledge your pain, to feel sad that you had it – It was more than any other human being had ever given you. If anyone else had noticed your scars, they never said anything, much less basically cry on you. This wasn’t pity. This was genuine concern and sympathy.

A tear slipped from your face, a lump forming in your throat. No one had ever made you feel more cared about and it was painful to realize that. That this animatronic showed more love and affection than anyone else. Sniffling and hiccup noises came from Sundrop’s voice box in a way that mimicked someone crying. That’s when you felt it. A cool wetness on top of your head. Another drop. Then another. You shifted a little, looking up at Sundrop, trying to blink away your own tears when you noticed a wetness streaking down his features.

Sundrop was crying. How or why they gave an animatronic the ability to cry was beyond you.

Sundrop was crying for you. He was crying for all the pain and suffering you’d been through. He was crying because he knew you were hurt and what that hurt led to because you didn’t know any other way to get it out. He was crying because he cared.

Based on this tiktok I found:

TikTok

🌸Bunny bubbles🌸 on TikTok

Reply to @0_moon.drop_0 He loves you dearly. #fivenights #fnaf #fnafsecuritybreach #viral #fyp #sundrop #moondrop #fypシ #sundropfnaf #fnafsu

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I hate that they cut my comic

A little doodle and fixes I almost forgot to post here hope you like them :"^✨

Bubba Sawyer Belly Appreciation Post

every time i sit down 2 watch a horror movie i think of that one tweet :/

i beg for more peepaw or Thomas spice 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

┊ 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓 ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭.

┊ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒) ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐭 ( 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 ) 𝐱 𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐛!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫.

┊ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓/𝟏𝟖+! 𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐡, 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐯𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐯𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐞, 𝐬𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭.

┊ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — 𝟑,𝟐𝟖𝟕.

┊ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 @wanderbreadsworld 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚! 𝐈 𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞. 𝐈𝐭’𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐜 𝐧𝐠𝐥. 💀 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐲. 𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲’𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲! ❤️

The expanse of empty space next to you was devoid of warmth, marked only by a faint indent of where Thomas slept. Cicadas and crickets sang just outside in the middle of the night, but that wasn’t really why you woke up. With Thomas’s hectic schedule, you hadn’t gotten to see him as much, he wasn’t home as often. You missed him, missed his massive form slumbering next to you, missed his face, missed his presence.

Sometimes you wondered if you thought about him too much, and not all of it was exactly wholesome. Your mind produced debauched fantasies of what you wanted him to do to you, especially after getting intimate several days prior. You shivered, folding one arm beneath your head as you rolled over to face the vast amount of space next to you.

Admittedly, you were practically craving his touch, craving his grasp. Everytime you really dwelled upon his size and his capability of splitting you in half, it got you so hot and bothered, tangled up within some feverish lust that you couldn’t shake. Your stomach was reduced to mush, sloshing with a very pressing anticipation.

You shut your eyes, thighs squeezing together to fight the wave of arousal that washed over you. That empty space next to you was singing to you, coaxing you to go and look for Thomas. You didn’t really want to bother him, but at this point, it was nearly unbearable — you couldn’t help yourself.

Flinging forward from the thin sheets, you tugged your nightgown back into place, skittering off of the bed and to the creaking wooden floorboards. You made sure to pull on your slippers — the house wasn’t exactly in the most stellar of shapes, and you wanted to avoid getting splinters as you crept down the stairs, arms loosely wound across your torso.

It was eerily quiet throughout the Hewitt household, which was something of an abnormality, not that you minded. The closer you got to the hefty basement door, the more you could hear the scuffling of tools and belongings, which promptly ceased when you slipped past the gap, shuffling onto the top of the stairs that descended into a dimly-lit darkness.

Your knees wobbled the whole way down, nearly knocking together as you clutched onto the rickety railing, holding yourself as upright as you could. You hated being so needy like this, afraid that you might suffocate Thomas with your clinginess, but you figured he would make it known if you were hounding him — he hadn’t yet, thankfully.

A hulking shape came into view at the bottom of the stairs, shadow eclipsing any sliver of light that fell across your trembling form. There was a flicker of happiness that danced within his eyes, which were devoid of the usual stoic melancholy. Thomas grunted, his stare falling upon your shivering form, assuming that you were cold.

As soon as you hit the step closest to him, thick arms were tangling themselves around your form, practically squeezing you against his chest, and he was absolutely warm, like his own radiator. Thomas swept you right off of your feet. He held you like a doll, one leg collecting underneath the backs of your thighs as the other settled against your ribcage.

“Oh,” It wasn’t a proper distraction from the heat pooling between your legs, only furthering the sensation as Thomas moved toward the large chair next to his workbench, sitting down with you right in his lap. Those big, calloused hands were smoothing over your goosebumps in an attempt to keep you warm, and that only made you whimper. “Thomas.” You didn’t really want him to stop, but you weren’t shaking because of the cold.

Thomas appeared perceptive, slowing his hand, attention fixated upon you. You made the same noise from when he’d eaten you out, keen enough to start to connect the dots in regards to your current state. With a resonant grunt, he watched you quiver, planting your hand on top of his, which he promptly held, massive fingers enveloping your dainty hand.

“I’m not cold.” You whisper, mouth going dry, tongue pressing against the inside of your cheek. You wondered if he would even pick up on your vulgar implications, and you sat there atop his lap, burning so hot with need that it likely seeped into him.

So that was what you wanted.

In the spirit of transparency, Thomas was feeling the same way lately, wistful about you, yearning so much that it made his heart ache. Your frenzied need for him was mildly amusing, maybe even bewildering to him, but this was what he loved about you — you were very unpredictable, in a good way. Thomas never expected you to want more, but here you were, practically shaking in his lap.

He rocked his leg against you a time or two, silently teasing you about the state of your neediness. Thomas pushed his lips against the side of your face, watching you scramble to try and press your core into the muscles of his thigh, but he locked you into place, watching you let out some hapless mewel. Thomas wasn’t exactly the teasing sort, but he had to this time, just to spur on your incendiary desire.

It would be the first time for both of you, and that was a thought that had Thomas foaming at the mouth. The momentary lightheartedness seemed to die out completely, replaced with a seriousness and something amatory. Thomas wanted to make sure it was good, but even then, he wasn’t sure what was defined as ‘good’ when it came to losing one’s virginity.

“I need you, Thomas.” You nearly moaned, listening to the hitch in his breath, his hooded glower as you guided his hand to the apex of your thighs, heart hammering within your chest. Thomas looked absolutely enthralled, watching where you took his hand, right to your soaked cunt, letting him feel just how much he wound you up, made you unbelievably needy. “Need you so bad.” You whispered.

Thomas’s satisfactory rumble was akin to the growling of a truck engine, sending shivers up your spine as he felt against your cunt, all wet just because of him — just the thought of him made you like this. With furrowed brows, he let you move his hand to exactly where you needed him most, slipping past the thin fabric of your panties, right to your throbbing slit.

His mouth crashed into yours, bruising and devouring you whole with a sloppy, uncouth passion. Thomas was still trying to really figure out the whole kissing thing, but you didn’t mind whatsoever, feeling the bite of leather against your cheeks as you reciprocated his fiery kiss. He kept his hand poised against your cunt through the kiss, ghosting over your clit.

It was dizzying, intoxicating — your head was spinning in circles, drunk on both desire and a festering need for your hulking lover. Thomas was perfect to you, extraordinary even if he didn’t see himself that way. A breathy moan elicited from you as his index finger languidly circled around your clit, sending you spiraling even as you kissed him.

“Please,” Your whine was breathy, high-pitched, and your whimpers were absolutely captivating. Thomas’s jaw tightened, cock twitching and hard within his pants as it began to strain against your thigh, highlighting his own amount of lust. It all seemed to be mutual, really. “Please, Tommy, please.” With a moan, you felt him pick you up right off of his lap, hauling you against the workbench instead.

Some depraved part of you didn’t want something soft and sweet — you wanted him to obliterate you, turn you into a pile of mush, make you scream and sob until your throat ran hoarse.

The plane of his broad, bulky chest was snug against your back, towering over you to the extreme, as if he were filling in the entirety of his height, making himself as large as possible. Those thick, calloused hands grabbed at your hips, fingers molding you as if you were made for him, ragged breath being drawn out from his leathery muzzle.

Hot, possessive kisses would be placed all along your neck and bare shoulders, consuming and tinged with something desperate. It paled in comparison to your pathetic, pitiful state of need, but it was enough to make you rock back into him, listening to his thunderous grunt. His hand slithered between your legs again, shoving past your panties, like a heat-seeking missile as thick fingers rubbed at your cunt.

An inhuman sound burst from the back of your throat, as if you choked upon a moan, but it produced something different. Thomas was so massive, colossal compared to you, and that only furthered arousal from both parties. One hand clapped into the supple flesh of your haunch, tugging your leg apart, letting out another rumble as he stroked at your clit, wet enough to cover his fingers in some thin sheen.

“T—Thom—“ The words coagulated in the back of your throat, hips attempting to grind themselves into his hand. Your cunt clenched around absolutely nothing, vision swimming with a blurry haze as he touched and pleasured your poor clit. You didn’t think it could get any better until you felt his erection straining against the curve of your rump.

His straining, pulsating cock was practically begging to be inside of you, threatening to burst if he didn’t find some semblance of relief soon. Thomas wanted to treat you gently, be the best lover to you for your first time, but his concept might’ve been skewed. Many of the animals he saw were brutal, and it was callous, without feeling.

Thomas loved you dearly — and he needed to show you just how much.

You almost expected him to spin you around, but something explosive erupted within your gut as Thomas bent you over the bench at the hip, leathery hand tracing up the smooth plane of your back, tangled within your nightgown. He was decisively swift about bunching the fabric up, letting it pool around your hips as he yanked at your panties.

Prying the thin bundle of fabric away from your cunt, he burrowed himself against you, aching cock throbbing and grinding into your backside, enough to where you could feel the heat bleed through. Thomas was getting a little too excited, especially with your newfound position. It didn’t exactly seem correct — he almost thought about letting you be on top of him.

However, you weren’t vocalizing any sort of disapproval. You careened back into his groin, pushing your hips against him, moaning and sighing his name, absolutely desperate for him to pound you into oblivion, no matter the amount of force. You knew how big he was, and that any roughness would threaten to split you into two, but you didn’t care.

Thomas’s pupils became blown out, like black saucers as you rocked yourself into his clothed cock. The possessive growl that ripped from his throat made you tremble, and he was beginning to throw all inhibitions to the wind, hastily wrestling with his belt and fly of his trousers. He eased his cock out, slathered with precum and enough to really break you in.

Your knuckles were white as you gripped the edge of the bench, feeling his cock split past your folds, thick and fully erect. You weren’t sure if you’d be walking tomorrow, but at least it would be from this, from the overwhelming amount of pleasure you were about to experience.

Thomas began to push forward, somewhat nervous because it was his first time and yours. Maybe he should’ve been doing something different, but he pressed on anyway, his massive cock beginning to bury its way into your tight slit, feeling your cunt clench around him. He grunted, nearly letting out some husky groan at how good you felt.

“Please,” Another wanton moan left you as you hung your head down, feeling his big hands splay out on either side of your hips, squeezing into pliant flesh. “Please, Tommy.” You panted, wanting him to move and move quickly. His sluggishness was likely experimental, and the more you begged, the more his desire grew.

He was torn between going slow and taking it easy, and going absolutely ballistic — as soon as you pushed your hips backward, cunt taking more of his cock, he snapped. With that ironclad grasp he maintained upon your hips, Thomas began to go full steam ahead, hips rutting forward with an impressive speed. He was like a bull out of the pen, already beginning to fuck you.

It was ecstasy.

It was rough, unyielding, messy and sporadic as Thomas fucked you within an inch of your life, groin clashing against your rump, flesh to flesh as he drove his cock in and out of you. He set a brutal pace almost immediately, listening to your myriad of breathy whimpers and blissful cries, back arching and hands digging into the splintering wood of his workbench.

Thomas sounded like the crackling of thunder, his grunts purely animalistic and feral as he pounded into you, cock battering your cunt with nearly all of the force that he could muster. Being bent over like this might’ve sounded a little callous at first, but you were enamored, nearly sobbing from pleasure and the snugness — you felt so full, stretched around his hefty cock. You didn’t really care about the discomfort as he took your virginity, you were too far gone to notice.

“Thomas!” You couldn’t smother your volume, and if you woke the entire Hewitt household up, so be it. Thomas was rutting into you as if you were some bitch in heat, pounding into you so hard that you were rocking forward, the workbench creaking and groaning in protest. You were absolutely soaked, insides battered by the heft of his cock.

Thomas was getting a little too voracious, and he was afraid that he was going to hurt you. His hips stuttered and he began to slow down, hunching over you as he saw the faint glitter of tears stinging your eyes. He knew that he needed to slow down or stop completely, brows drawn together in a look of concern. You were moaning even still, desperately pushing your hips back into him.

“No, no, don’t …” You huffed, shaking your head back and forth. “Please don’t stop Thomas, please.” You begged and pleaded, your body a trembling mess as he let out a softer grunt. “Keep going, Tommy, please!” Tendrils of precum and intermingled arousal oozed from your cunt, and you kept squirming around, desperate for more.

He let out a ragged, husky rumble, watching you cry and whine, your pleas dissipating into needy whimpers that drove him crazy with lust. Thomas hadn’t had anyone beg for him like this, beg for him to demolish them in the way that he was with you. You were the very first, and you would be the very last. He couldn’t get enough of you.

You couldn’t take him not moving, his cock still swollen and full inside of you, lacking any semblance of friction or ounce of movement. You needed him so bad that it was almost paralyzing. “Please.” You whined, the breath nearly ripped from your lungs when he roughly jutted his hips forward, cock beginning to reassume his previous pace.

Listening to you begging for him to pound your cunt again was horribly enrapturing, and Thomas felt obligated to do so now, flying into that brutal pace, quick and needy, almost as needy as you. He wasn’t dragging anything out, he wasn’t fucking you with slow, deliberate thrusts — everything was fast-paced and hasty, cock obliterating your cunt with all the force of a battering ram.

He couldn’t stop.

Thomas was fucking you senseless, almost to the point where he was using you, a notion that irked him. His grunts and your moans filled the space, consuming the feverish atmosphere as he clashed into your rump with his groin, cock pushing into you as far as it could go. He was quick, only pulling back a mere inch or two before clapping back into you, tugging your hips back against him with a powerful command.

You were actually drooling, feeling a hot salivation pool around the corners of your mouth until it dribbled onto the workbench. Your face was nearly pressed into the wood as you were unable to keep holding yourself up at this rate. Your noises were drowned out by the feral, darker sounds of his growls and grunts, cock pulsating with shockwaves of heat that made you shudder around him.

He could see your legs shaking like the leaves on a tree, but Thomas was keen on chasing after his orgasm, wanting to cum inside you, make you feel every palpitation. You moaned his name as if it were the only word you knew, occasionally rocking back against him, only to be rewarded with another sharp thrust of his hips.

The speed of his desperate rutting didn’t slow down even when you came around his cock, flying into your orgasm as if you’d been thrown into it. You were nearly crying, tears of pleasure stinging your eyes as Thomas continued to rail you, hunching in over you, head hung, eyes all glazed-over with a salacious, lustrous shimmer.

“Thomas.” You panted, chest rising and falling, mouth slack and coated in your own drool. It might’ve been embarrassing in any other situation, but you felt so good that you were literally blinded by pleasure. You were dizzy, feeling his cock bury itself into your needy cunt a few times over before the dam broke.

Shamelessly spilling his seed inside of you, Thomas grunted, bringing you back up against his chest as he pumped you full of cum, that breeding urge always prevalent whenever he came. Any excess happened to slather the insides of your thighs, warm and sticky, and you collapsed back against the workbench, legs feeling like jelly, like they lacked any structure whatsoever.

You had to catch your breath, but you would’ve been lying if you said you didn’t want him to do it all over again, right here and right now. Your eyes were blurry, and you hastily blinked the tears of ecstasy out, using the collar of your nightgown to wipe your mouth clean of drool, skin covered in a thin layer of perspiration.

Thomas let out a softer rumble, but he was terrified that he’d gone too far, that he hurt you. You weren’t hurt in the slightest, but your quivering legs and disheveled state said otherwise to Thomas, who pulled out of you with some lewd pop, collecting you into his burly arms.

The concern was obvious within his eyes, but it steadily ebbed away when you hit him with some nonchalant, dazed smile. He stroked your cheek, letting you lean against as he held you close, pressing a kiss against your forehead. You were certainly wanting more — you were hungry for it.

“I want you to do that again,” You mumbled, fiddling with his tie, giving him the biggest pair of bedroom eyes that you could muster. “You won’t hurt me, Tommy. Promise.” Your voice was much too saccharine to properly ignore, and you could hear the grunt forming in Thomas’s chest.

Thomas wasn’t about to deny you anything, but one thing was for certain — you weren’t going to be able to walk tomorrow. After a moment of contemplation, he set you onto solid ground again, watching you grapple onto the workbench for support.

Before you had time to say anything else, he was bending you over again.