Babes, Art The Clown Would Definitely Be The Type To Tickle Tf Out Of His Lover And I Need A Few Headcanons

Maybe it's just my proximity to middle age, but for my money, Halsin is the most attractive romanceable character in BG3 by a mile. He's kind. He's courteous. He takes responsibility for his mistakes and undertakes to fix them without roping you into a bunch of drama about it and then goes on to help you save the world just because he likes you. He's a leader with a healthy ambivalence about leadership. He's effectively an eco-socialist with deep and abiding convictions about the treatment of the underprivileged, especially children. He is passionately romantic about you while also decrying the constraints and jealousies of compulsory monogamy. AND he's built like a brick shithouse and will fuck your brains out. I'm just not seeing what's not to love about this man.

bro is not slick

omg I just watched terrifier 3 it was so good 😩!

I was wondering if you could do something on the reader being jealous of Vicky? I found that whole dynamic in the movie interesting, wanted to see your take on it 🤭

You Jealous?

Art the clown x reader

summary: you’re jealous of all the attention vicky is getting.

warning: this does have a little bit of T3 spoilers, some cussing, and demons.

when he left you, you died. spiritually tho but to you it still counts. those 5 years have been a hell of a ride for you, since your clown man was no where to be seen. i mean sure, he would still contact you through dreams and what not, but you miss seeing him eye to eye.

after those 5 years of pain, you finally saw him again. even tho he was decapitated, you were still so glad to see him again after all this time. but your mood shifted as soon as you saw his ‘work parter’ vicky. you knew she was another demon, but the way she acted around him made you so fucking mad. you help art with his plans, i mean what can you say? you loved him. but you’d rather it be just you that helped him.

you were glad she gave birth to him so you could see him again, but that’s was all she was good for. your clown man doesn’t deserve a demon like her, or whatever the fuck you wanna call her. you didn’t like her, because she always had his attention. you knew you couldn’t kill her, so why even try.

one day you couldn’t take it anymore, and that day was the time she was dressed like him. as soon as you saw her, your blood boiled as your vision got blurry, not with tears, but with anger and jealousy. why was he letting her get close to him? why her and not you? does he like her now? will he leave you? you had no answers to any of those questions that flooded your head.

as soon as art left the room for a moment, you knew it was your chance.

“what the fuck is you problem, huh? dressing like him, always sitting next to him, taking pictures with him, are you fucking okay??” you couldn’t control yourself, letting your anger run loose.

she turns her head and looks and you, before cracking that ugly smile on her face and laughing.

“aww is someone jealous??” she fakes pouts at you before slapping her knee with laughter. before you could attack her, art came back in the room and grabbed you. you yelled at him to let you go but it was no use. he was dragging you to a different room with him.

“the hell do you want art?!” you couldn’t help but yell at him. you took a second before realizing he heard the whole conversation you just had. you knew he was nosy little thing. he just looks at you before he starts gesturing something with his hands. he points to him and throwds the place vicky is at and shakes his head no. as if he’s saying don’t be jealous, me and her aren’t a thing. you could only look at him with and empty face.

he leans in and gives you a hug, the hug you’ve missed all these years. your head rests on his shoulder breathing in the scent of blood…and piss.

“art you’re taking a shower tonight.”

if you’d like a part 2 let me know!!

Late Night Visit

Pairing: Thomas Hewitt x reader

Warnings: None at all really! Mostly just fluff

Summary: Thomas comes late in the evening to see you.

Now, it’s no secret around these parts, the house that is, that you always struggled with rolling out of bed in the mornings.

It easily took you at least an hour to fully rise to your feet and finally go about your day, it was simply how your body chose to function.

Especially in such… Unique circumstances.

While Hoyt always used it as an excuse to kick your bucket and peel the meat from your bones for dinner, thankfully Miss Luda Mae was much more considerate and just sent her boy Thomas every ten or so minutes to shake the sleep out of your bones.

Quite literally.

You remembered the first time poor Thomas made the trip up the old creaky stairs to the room you were tied up in. The large man didn’t realize you were a sensitive riser at the time, and Luda Mae hadn’t bothered to warn him, which caused the whole ordeal to end with a sprained wrist on your end and a juicy black eye for Thomas. The whimper that came out of him surprised you for certain, he downright sounded like a wounded puppy, not at all in character with the man’s hulking appearance.

Then again, you also hadn’t been expecting an officer of the law to pistol-whip you and drag you to his house for dinner. To BE dinner, mind you.

Granted while it hadn’t ended up going Hoyt’s way, the sentiment was a little hard to shake.

But here you were anyway.

After that little scuffle though, they started tying your legs again, and a certain upset mama bear banned the man from the chore. But of course, after Luda Mae got tired of always making the trip up the stairs, she finally caved and sent her sweet boy on the missions his younger legs could handle once again.

Not before a stern warning not to be difficult to her baby boy, of course.

Thomas only lasted three days before noticing the bright rope burns glowing on your ankles, and the pair of big brown eyes hidden behind wild hair swirled with guilt at the sight.

Your wriggly feet had been free since and you both kept the little secret just between you and him.

It was an easy one to keep too, considering he always made extra sure to tuck the blanket under your feet before bed. You remembered the indistinguishable look in his eyes when you offered a feeble smile at the minor, yet thoughtful action the first time he did it.

Since then, the air in the room had started to shift over time. Whenever he ducked his towering frame through the door every morning and night, you could see his large shoulders droop, the tension seeping out from the core of his bones. At first, you thought it was because there was a wall between him and the noisy bickering that always seemed to be floating through the halls. A good portion of the subjects bein’ about the butcher himself.

Always in a not so kind light, too.

But, eventually, you came to realize it was just your presence that drew out such a thing from him.

You never did really prove that the sentiment was real, the introverted butcher made that sure, but lord be damned if you didn’t hope it was true.

Months passed, and you’d finally come to terms with the fact that you’d never get to leave the Hewitt house. Upon that realization, you found yourself more comfortable with the notion than you’d expected. You had cracked a smile when a certain resident of the home came to mind. Granted they were still a cautious bunch and made certain to chain you to your bed every night. Plus you were damn near positive you’d get early arthritis from all the sewing they were having you do. But, they let you skip out on the more meaty meals they served in favor of the veggies from the garden.

Can’t get any worse you supposed.

If anything, it got just that little bit better when a few cold nights later. You turned your attention from the book nestled in your hands to your door, the familiar sound of heavy footfalls closing in on your room per routine. Though that said routine had been finished over half an hour ago, your toasty tucked-in toes and chained wrist were a testament to that. The oddity caused you to smooth down the corner of your page, saving your spot before reaching over to set it on your nightstand. Hands now resting in front of you with calloused fingers picking at the threads of the blanket, you waited for the telltale whine the door always gave when it opened and gave a curious albeit worried tilt of your head.

Once there was a sizeable crack, that telltale shaggy head of hair slipped it's way in, a pair of big chocolate eyes peering at you in the dim-lit room. The hesitant look in Thomas’ eyes paired with how they struggled to stay locked onto yours drew an amused yet soft chuckle from your lips, the heat of nerves seeping out from your chest.

You can’t remember a time after settling into the home when Thomas didn’t show his southern charm, those polite little manners Luda Mae made sure her boy had. Which, considering his occupation, never lost its charm.

“You can come in, Thomas.”

The gentle murmur encouraged him to gently swing open the door, ducking his head as always while shuffling his way into the room. Your eyebrows furrowed as he hovered around the entrance, though a smile was still present on your lips.

He was so tense, nervous. Noticing this pulled down at the corners of your mouth a tad. Why was he so stiff? One of his hands was picking at the string tying his apron to his body, while his other hovered almost stock-still at his side, clenched into a tight fist. You hadn’t seen him like this since a person Hoyt brought for him to butcher had slipped through his fingers and escaped the basement. Kudos to him though, as he’d chased the woman down with ease and had brought her back in record time, but the verbal and physical lashing he received had him dangling on the edge of a panic attack for a solid two days.

While before, you would’ve mourned for the person who failed to escape what you’d thought was hell, now the memory of how distraught Thomas was the only nasty taste left in your mouth.

When your lips parted to ask the poor man what was wrong, his head was quick to bow down with his jittery gaze following. He looked at his mucked and worn boots for a few beats of his stuttery heart, before they finally flickered up to meet your own. You took the chance to scoot over in your bed, the old mattress creaking before you patted the now free spot next to you with your free hand, the other chained to the metal baseboard.

His Adam's apple bobbed noticeably as he tried to swallow his nerves, before taking the short steps his longer legs needed to reach the now open seat next to you.

The bed groaned even louder as he sat down, his back facing you. The new, larger body caused a dip in the mattress and had you sliding over, your shoulders bumping against his spine. Your hand reached up to press against him out of reflex to catch yourself, and your struggling smile finally fell once you felt the small tremors coming off him.

You pulled up the edge of your nightgown and shuffled towards his side, only barely managing to peek around his wide shoulders before the chain connecting you to the bed grew taught, cutting into the bandages Thomas swaddled around your wrists to protect them.

Another shiver vibrated up his spine as you slid your hand from his back and over to the front of his shoulder, chin barely pressing into him as you gave out a low, thoughtful hum. You’ve learned over time through experience that patience was the way to go with the man. Demands and pressure will only bring his anxiety to a boiling point before it pours out of the soup pot that was Thomas Hewitt.

His tremors slowly eased over the next few minutes, the heavy breathing puffing from behind his muzzle-like mask soothing down into a more relaxed rhythm.

By that point it was your cheek resting against his shoulder, the hand that was there moving onto his shoulder, gliding over the muscle in the usual way you would when wanting to help bring him back down.

It was like there was magic in your fingertips, he could swear.

If you were hoping he’d nudge you awake when you fell asleep on his shoulder, you’d be mistaken. He just couldn’t help it, honest. With you leaning on him so willingly he was scared his heart would burst out of his chest and wake you all on its own anyway. He just couldn’t help letting you drift off leaning on him. You were so small in comparison.

Mesmerizing, to see at times.

And this was one of those times.

Eventually, though, he could feel the object in his fist shift, giving him a reason to finally bring you back to the land of the living.

You’d felt as though you’d dozed off and been sleeping for hours, though you knew it not true as you felt Thomas’ back straighten, his large body shifting slowly to face you.

Sometimes you felt that man could stomp his foot and split the earth in two, he was so large.

The feeling of fingers ever so gently grazing your cheek shook you from your sleep-ridden thoughts and had your eyes struggling to open, blinking away the sleepiness that had started to creep up on your body.

Seeing those eyes easily drug out the last bit of drowsiness that weighed you down.

They were filled with so many different things, all swirling around in his head at once. It was one of the things that had your opinion of him turning what seemed like months ago. The thing that was changing him from being the cold-hearted cannibal to the broken and lonely man, stuck in a twisted house. It was still hard, and you still got scared when you heard the screaming from down in the basement, but you were trying.

And after getting to know the family, you felt Thomas deserved to have someone try for him, for once.

A heavy sigh puffed from behind your lips when his fingers pushed on past your cheeks to run through your hair, and you couldn’t help leaning into the touch. God he was making you sleepy again like this.

He huffed, his thumb rubbing over your cheek to try and brush that sleepiness away, a quirk of a smile tugging at his lips.

Settling with only closing one eye and leaving the other on him, you rose a brow quizzically.

“You feel better?”

The question had him retracting his hand to fiddle with the edge of his apron, moving his other closer towards you. Looking down, you notice he still had it clenched into a fist, must’ve been next to him on the bed the whole time.

It was shaking too, his poor nerves.

He seemed to be offering it out to you, which had you granting him a smile. That seemed to boost his confidence, and his own smile grew just that little bit bigger.

You shuffled back and used the hand on his shoulder to encourage him to follow. The poor man realized and made quick to follow, pausing to shake off his shoes before settling himself in the middle of the bed, one leg extended with the other drawn up closer to his chest. You couldn’t help a breath of relief at the newfound freedom you had when it came to the movement of your chained hand. Turning your attention back to him from your chains, you couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled from your throat at seeing him fill up the small twin-sized bed, he was just so…

And without a moment of hesitation, you took the gamble.

The gargled yelp you got from him after getting to your knees and bouncing on the old springy mattress had your giggle blowing up into a clear laugh. His ass didn’t even leave contact with the stupid sheets at all! But judging by the red starting to pool in his ears and the squinted eyes, he wasn’t too amused even though the mischievous glint in his eye said otherwise and was quick to retaliate.

The moment your body left the mattress was the moment he realized he didn’t quite calculate your weight into the equation, and you had to slap a hand over your mouth to keep the childish squeal from waking up the house. The two of you stared wide-eyed at one another the second you made contact with the bed again, your hand reaching out to grab his knee to steady yourself. He was smiling and you were snickering as quietly as you could, pinching his knee as payback. Thomas was quick to cover his teeth with his lips while he smiled, and you pursed your own in turn, folding your hands on his knee before resting your head there. Bad dental genetics or not, you thought his smile was lovely, but that was a battle for another day.

“Alright big guy, back to business. What’d ya have for me?”

Hello, hope you having a good day/night can you do some cuddle headcannons with Art the clown? If you can't I understand hope you have a good day/night

ofc i can do this!

wow, art the clown cuddling, that’s like impossible.

naw i’m just kidding he loves cuddles!! only if he likes you. he has to like you, or well…you know don’t you?

he rubs his nose in your neck a fuck ton. that’s his favorite thing to do when y’all cuddle. he’s like a big teddy bear. a very skinny, thin teddy bear. 😂

he may try to touch you somewhere you don’t want to be touched at the moment. just pop his hand and he’ll stop. it happens a lot, he can’t help it, but he’ll eventually get the memo and quit.

when he comes home from murder his first thing to do is get in bed with you. BUT!! you make him either A: take his dirty ass a shower then get in the bed. B: make him sit on the floor, which forces him to take a shower because he wants cuddles. either way he’s getting in the shower.

he likes to be the little spoon but sometimes he’ll be the big one, he likes to feel like the protector. also yes, he does suck his thumb. what can i say, he’s a big baby.

sometimes you give him back rubs after a long day. he struggles to stay awake as your hands rub along his back. he loves you, he really does. he also trust you enough to sleep around you, with his back turned and everything.

give him forehead kisses when y’all cuddle, please!! he needs them, or else he’ll beg and then the damn air horn comes out.

oh how can i forget, watching movies!! horror movies, at fucking 5 pm on a saturday. he’s so weird, but you’re weird too because you’re the one dating him.

“My sisters cat doesn’t like leafy greens but pretends to eat them to make her bunny feel comfortable“ 

(via)

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.

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

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.

May I request nsfw alphabet for Tommy? btw, I'm always love your posts! S2 S2

Thomas Hewitt NSFW Alphabet:

A = Aftercare (What they're like after sex)

Thomas is super into aftercare. He hates when he has to leave you after sex, for whatever reason it is, he wasn't to be able to just bask in the afterglow with you. Ideally, he'll just get to lay with you, holding you and being close to you. He loves when you give them those little smiles of bliss before giving him a gentle kiss, he just adores you so much. If he does get called away from your side, he tries to make it up to you as soon as he can.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of yours)

If asked for his favourite body part of yours, Thomas wouldn't be able to answer. He just couldn't choose! However, he definitely has an unconscious preference for your thighs. They're so soft and he loves touching them and having them wrapped around him.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically...I'm a disgusting person)

Thomas has a breeding kink so...that's pretty self explanatory. However, he is aware of the consequences and wouldn't want to put something on you that you didn't want...so, he'll be more careful. Honestly, he's happy with whatever you're happy with, it doesn't bother him that much.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Thomas' dirty secret isn't some sort of hidden kink that he's ashamed to tell you about, it's all about before you were dating. Now, he figures he is allowed to look at you and think about you in a certain way, you are his S/O after all and you have a sexual relationship. But when you were just his sweet friend that cared about him so much? God, he felt terrible for thinking about you in such a way. You would give him the gentlest of touches and it would send a thrill through him, which only brought him shame. No matter how much the thoughts of you plagued him, he could barely look you in the eyes afterwards. Thankfully, it's not something he has to worry about now that you're together.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?)

Thomas has no experience before you and that does make him a little nervous at first, but you soon put him at enough ease to feel like he has nothing to worry about. He's just a little worried that it's not going to be good for you, so he does accept any form of guidance you offer. Thomas is a fast learner and wants nothing more than to please you. He knows that no matter what, you were perfect and are wonderful to him, he just wants to be the same for you. Like I said, fast learner and eager to satisfy, he may have no experience but you won't be disappointed with him.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying)

It may not be very adventurous but Thomas' favourite position is missionary, it allows him to be close to you and it feels intimate. Plus it can be considered somewhat 'traditional', and Thomas kind of likes that. Another favourite of his is just having you ride him, having you take care of him, giving him kisses and praises. Plus, he gets to watch and admire you.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

Thomas does see sex as a serious thing. He really does see it as an act of love between two people, and why wouldn't he take that seriously? As time goes on and things become more familiar, he does become (and enjoys being) more playful on occasions.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Not...well. At least, not before your relationship. It's relatively ungroomed, Thomas never really saw the point but his insecurities might bug him to consider it when he thinks the two of you might start having sex. Still, he doesn't really know what he's supposed to do, so probably ends up leaving it for the most part.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect...)

Thomas is very intimate during the moment. Whether he's being completely serious or more playful, he's still intimate. He absolutely loves intimacy of any kind with you, the closeness and love of it all is what he enjoys the most. When one of you goes out of your way to be a little more romantic, Thomas' heart just soars.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Oh boy, there's that shame again. Thomas has no real shame around masturbation in general, having come to see it as a method of releasing tension more than anything. But then you came along and plagued his thoughts, now you were the reason for the stirring feeling within him. Jacking off becomes more regular for Thomas, even if he tried to resist it at first. He always found it hard to look at you the next day.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Praise kink. For the love of God, please praise this man, he will just melt. Tell him how good he is to you, how good he feels and how good he makes you feel, how handsome he is and how much you love him. He’s already in love with you and in awe of you, but he can’t get enough of your loving praise. 

Body Worship. He will worship your body without you needing to ask. He adores everything about you, and now that he can touch and admire your body shamelessly, he is going to take advantage of it. But if you flip that and take the time to worship him, you’re about to hear this large strong man whine for your touch.

Breeding kink. The thought of you having his children drives Thomas insane. He wants a family and the thought of having that family with you just makes him want to throw you over his shoulder and march you up the stairs to his bedroom.

Dominance and Submission. This one was a surprise to him but there is a dominant side to Thomas and it sends a shiver down your spine whenever it comes out.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

Thomas' favourite location is his bedroom. It's the one room in the house that is just yours, you're little sanctuary where other members of the household are less likely to bother you. It's safe there and the two of you can just be together, in your room. Other than his bedroom, he quite likes the basement. For the same reason that nobody really goes down there so it offers more privacy. Though, this can only start happening once Thomas allows you to even step foot in the basement. Even then, he makes sure to clean up more than he used too, for your sake.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

You really don't have to go out of your way to turn Thomas on, just being around seems to be enough. But certain things do get him going. Talking about the future, talking about marriage or children, makes him want to get a head start on it. Also, just when you're being extra affectionate, it just makes him want to be closer to you.

N = NO (Something they wouldn't do, turn-offs)

Thomas would never share you (not that there is really anyone to share you with anyway), he values loyalty and exclusivity. The thought of anyone else touching you breaks his heart.

He also is not into degrading, giving or receiving. He would never want to insult you, even in a roleplay situation, and he couldn't handle any degradation coming from you. However, that doesn't mean he won't be rougher with you if you ask him to be and let him ease into it.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Thomas wouldn't ask for oral and only ever hesitated the first time you had offered, he would never turn down your generosity now. While he certainly enjoys receiving, he also enjoys genuinely enjoys giving. His approach is never particularly...skilful, but its determined and effective.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? Etc.)

It all depends on Thomas' mood. In early stages of your relationship, he leans towards slow and sensual, not wanting to accidently hurt you in anyway. As your relationship progresses, Thomas becomes more comfortable with being faster and rougher with you, finding that he enjoys it just as much as you do. So, now, it all just depends on his mood but he does both well.

Q = Quickie (Their opinion on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Thomas prefers proper sex, without a doubt, but sometimes he can get busy. The family relies on him for so much these days that he is kept busy a lot, so he understands that quickies can be more practical at times. He doesn't hate them, he does enjoy them and always makes sure to take care of you, but he definitely prefers proper sex.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

For the most part, he is open to experimenting. Pretty much everything is new to him and whether you're introducing him to things or you're discovering things together, he's excited to do so. So, he is open to taking some risks but Thomas will always be hesitant to do anything that he thinks might harm you in anyway (even if it won't, he's just being cautious).

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last...)

Thomas has good stamina, he's an active man with impressive stamina in other aspects of his life, why would it be any different in this case? His stamina always surprises you, sometimes you don't even know how he has it in him for another round, but he usually does!

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?) 

He doesn't own any and he's not all that interested in using them. If you ask to incorporate them into sex at some point, he will agree and give it a try, but it's not really for him. He prefers for it just to be the two of you, he thinks it's more intimate that way.

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

Thomas isn't much of a tease, not at first anyway. As his confidence grows, he becomes more of a tease. If he notices you staring at him, he makes sure to keep your attention on him, thriving on your attention and infatuation. You probably tease him more than he teases you, even if you don't realise it.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

While not being exceptionally loud, it might be the loudest or most vocal you hear him. You adore his groans and occasional grunts. He's relatively quiet for the most part but it's not like either of you can be very loud, since the house always has other people walking around. But on the rare days when you get the house to yourself, you're both allowed to be louder and Thomas does take advantage of the opportunity and you love it.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

There is a lot to Thomas under the surface and you have to be patient to see every side of him, especially in the bedroom. He absolutely cherishes you and he always manages to show that. At the beginning of the relationship, his touches are always so gentle, like you're something precious that he doesn't want to break, like he doesn't want to do anything wrong. Slowly but surely, Thomas begins to become more confident. He stops waiting for you to touch him first, stops trying to be so light-handed with you, stops being overly gentle with you. He starts making the moves rather than waiting for you to make them all. He knows you won't break, that he won't hurt you, that you're enjoying the way he's touching you. It's thrilling the first time he manhandles you, when you feel his fingers digging into your thighs as he plants you down on the table. You love seeing him come out of his shell, becoming more sure of himself.

X = X-Ray (Let's see what's going on in those pants)

I'll leave this one to your imagination...sorry! XD

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Thomas has a high sex drive, it might even be surprising to you when you realise that after you're platonic relationship when he was pretty timid at times. He is pretty much always ready for you, is nearly constantly desiring you.

Z = ZZZ (...how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

It depends. Sex doesn't necessarily wipe Thomas out completely, and he is normally perfectly capable of carrying on with chores afterwards. But after a long day when the two of you had ended up in bed, Thomas will have released his pent up tension and be more than ready for sleep. So, he'll likely only stay awake long enough for you both to get comfortable, cuddled up together before finally getting some well deserved rest.