#also this is giving me vague fic ideas...

[steddiehyperfixation]

aftermath

my @steddieexchange gift fic for @resande! here's some canon complaint kas/vampire eddie angst with a little side of hurt/comfort and a dash of fluff at the end <3 also happens to fit one of my @steddiebingo prompts: panic 6.3k words | rated t | ao3 link

People are always saying that dying is like falling asleep. But as Eddie lies there choking on his own blood, he thinks this is very much not like falling asleep at all. It’s not peaceful or easy or safe. There’s no sense of his soul being carried gently from one life into the next. It’s painful and terrifying and fucking heartwrenching, tears caught in his throat as well as the blood as he spends his last moments struggling to speak, trying to give the poor kid crying over him some parting words, some small comfort. Dustin’s already going to be traumatized for life from this, it’s the least Eddie can do.

Eddie’s breath rattles. Death rattles. His vision darkens, thoughts growing sluggish, and, oh, maybe this is the part that’s like falling asleep. The dull numbness spreading through his body, the looseness and heaviness of his limbs, the soft swooping sense of release as everything goes black.

He even dreams. Hazy scenes float in and out of his vague awareness, disjointed and nonsensical, as dreams often are. Breathing in the fresh forest air under the stars… Laughing with the kids… Kissing Steve Harrington... Maybe this is heaven. Blood on his hands and in his mouth… Fear and hatred burning in his friends’ eyes... A horrible creature with the appearance of a man skinned and scarred and mutated beyond all recognition of humanity standing at his side... Or maybe he’s in hell. The monster telling him, “Kill them, kill them all...” The air filling with sounds of pleading and screaming… No. No. This must be hell. A nightmare. He doesn’t want to know how this one ends. He sinks back into the blackness and he doesn’t dream again.

And then he wakes up.

Gasping and shivering, Eddie’s eyes fly open in the undeniable sharpness and solidness of reality. He’s acutely aware of his own body, of every sensation in and around it. A physical form feels almost foreign to him now after so long of dreaming untethered. Being alive is such an assault on the senses, has anyone else ever noticed that? He’s never felt so real, so cold, so hungry. “Fuck,” he gasps out as he heaves his upper body up from the cold hard ground he’d been laying on.

He’s sitting in the dirt, on the blood-soaked earth of a recent battlefield. Bodies of dead Upside-Down creatures lie scattered all around, including the corpse of his nightmare monster-man, whose head now sits quite a few feet away from its body. No human bodies lie among them, thank god. The humans, his friends, are all still alive, their victory apparently recent and the relief of it still fresh as they tend each other’s wounds and collapse into one another with tearful hugs. The sound of Eddie’s movement gives them pause, a collective apprehensive breath rippling through them. They all turn to look at him.

“Eddie!” Dustin’s face lights up and he moves as if to run towards him, but Steve almost immediately shoots his arm out to block him, holding the kid back with a firm hand on his chest as he steps protectively in front of him.

“Is that really you?” Steve asks with narrowed eyes and a voice harsh with distrust.

“Yeah, of course it’s really me,” Eddie answers. “Have I ever been someone else?” He means to say it like a joke, but his humor dies in his throat under the wary glares of not just Steve but everyone else as well. Even Dustin’s face has fallen into a hesitant frown. And suddenly the idea doesn’t feel all that funny; suddenly it seems like a very real possibility.

Robin is the one to confirm his growing fears. “Yeah, actually,” she says plainly, “you have. You just were.”

“Oh.”

It certainly explains things: how he got here, alive and back in Hawkins, when the last thing he remembers was dying in the Upside-Down; why he feels so unused to his own skin now; why his hands and face are currently sticky with blood that’s not his own; why Steve won’t let Dustin get close to him; why none of them will quite look him in the eye. Someone or something else had been parading around in his body, wreaking havoc or doing who knows what for who knows how long, while Eddie had been dreaming none the wiser. He shivers again, his stomach twisting, because not only is he cold and hungry still, now he’s also guilty. Guilty of something that’s made his friends afraid of him. He looks over each of them. They all appear to be in rough shape, not one of them unmarred by deep scratches or bruises; Steve even has a large bandage covering the side of his neck, the bloodstain seeping through shaped just like rows of teeth. Eddie can’t help but wonder which of those injuries were inflicted by his hands, if the claw marks on Dustin’s arm would match his own fingernails, if the bite on Steve’s neck would match his own teeth.

He rises unsteadily to his feet. Everyone takes an instinctive step back, flinching away from him, and Eddie raises his hands in what he hopes is a non-threatening gesture (although given the amount of blood they’re covered in, it might not actually be all that comforting).

“I, uh, I’m sorry f-for whatever I was, whatever I did,” he says shakily, “I don’t know what happened. I don’t know- but I-I’m me now, I promise. I’m me, I’m Eddie. Good old confused and terrified Eddie.” He punctuates the end of that sentence with some self-deprecating jazz hands and then immediately cringes at himself. Back from the dead and still a loser, some things never change.

Dustin looks up and over at Steve. “I believe him.”

Steve frowns, his expression carefully guarded. “Yeah, well, we all believed him the first time around too, and look where that got us.”

“I didn’t,” Nancy speaks up. “The first time around, I never totally trusted him the way you guys did, but I think I believe him now too.”

“Yeah, Steve, I think maybe this time we really did get an extra win,” says Robin.

“Maybe.” Steve doesn’t sound entirely convinced, but he does relax his protective stance somewhat in favor of crossing his arms and turning slightly to look at the rest of the group while still keeping Eddie warily in his peripheral. “Anyone else care to chime in?”

“I never really met the real Eddie, so I wouldn’t know either way,” the remaining older teen of the group, who Eddie recognizes as Jonathan Byers, says with a shrug. “Do you guys, like, feel anything?” Jonathan directs the question towards two of the kids - his little brother Will and a girl with a growing out buzzcut, who Eddie assumes is probably that superpowered girl El he’s heard so much about.

Eddie watches, twisting his rings around his fingers as they all talk about him like he’s not there.

Will and El both shake their heads. “One is dead,” El says, and Will agrees, gesturing vaguely at the back of his neck, “There’s nothing there anymore.”

“So then obviously that’s the real Eddie,” Erica says like anyone who thinks otherwise is hopelessly stupid. “It was all a hivemind, right? Cut off the head and the body dies? Well, we cut off the head. Literally. Nothing under Vecna’s control could’ve survived that.”

So the beheaded monster-man corpse must’ve been Vecna(/Henry/One). Gross. For some reason Eddie had been picturing a much cooler-looking villain than that. Not that that’s at all relevant right now though. Bigger things to worry about.

“She has a point,” Lucas adds. “Kas was part of Vecna’s hivemind, so if Vecna is dead then Kas is dead too.”

“Kas?” Eddie questions, briefly drawing some of the attention back to him.

“That’s what we called you after we figured out that you…weren’t you,” Dustin explains. “As in-”

“As in Kas the Bloody Handed, Kas the Betrayer. Right. I get it.” Eddie’s more than familiar with the D&D character Kas, the deceptive and disloyal vampire who serves as the dark wizard Vecna’s right-hand man right up until Kas ultimately betrays him too; Eddie had only just used him in his own campaign. It fits, bloody hands and deception and all. Vecna’s minion. Eddie wonders if when the kids named him they did so with the hope that he might eventually fulfill his namesake and turn on this world’s Vecna as well, help them defeat him. He hadn’t.

Guilt again, running deep and dark and ugly in the cold hollow of his veins and his stomach. Guilt and hunger are really not a good mix. If his stomach twists one more time he thinks he might throw up. If there would even be anything to throw up. Did Kas ever eat?

The rest of the group has returned to squabbling amongst themselves over whether or not Kas could possibly exist outside of Vecna, and Eddie is just another problem to them, something to solve. He stands on the outside, trying to swallow down how uncomfortable he is, all his pain and fear.

He fidgets with his rings again, stares at his stained hands. Kas the Bloody Handed. For some reason, curiosity or instinct maybe, Eddie finds himself bringing his fingers up to his lips and licking tentatively at the blood still dripping from them. The tiniest touch and the sweet metallic taste explodes across his tongue, instantly bringing some relief to not only his hunger but the cold he feels as well, as if the blood is warming him from the inside out. His mind clears of everything except the craving of that relief. He laps up more, licking his hands clean. He shoves his fingers in his mouth to suck the remaining blood from them like a lollipop, and something sharp pierces his skin.

“Ow, shit,” he hisses, pulling his hand away and watching as the tiny pinprick wounds on his fingers close up and disappear within seconds. The sudden pain had snapped him out of whatever daze he’d just been in, and now the true horror of it all can begin to set in. Eddie lifts a shaking hand back up to his mouth and carefully feels along the edges of his teeth. Sharp, pointed. Fangs. Fuck.

“Uh, guys?” he calls out, interrupting whatever debate is still going on about him. “Your Kas didn’t happen to also be a vampire, did he?”

The attention turns towards him again, and his question receives the wary response of, “Yeah, why?”

Eddie grimaces, lips drawn back just enough to reveal the sharp new points of his teeth. “I, uh, I think he might’ve left something behind…”

“I fucking knew it,” Steve sneers with a bitter sort of vindication. He gestures sarcastically towards Eddie as he raises a bitchy eyebrow at everyone who’d spoken up in defense of the vampire. “You guys were saying?”

“Wait, that doesn’t mean he’s still Kas though,” Dustin protests.

“Look at him, Steve, he’s terrified,” Robin says. “That has to be real.”

“Kas was a good actor.” Steve looks at Eddie like it pains him to do so, a million contradictions in his expression. Though his face softens slightly, his eyes are hard and conflicted, so many unreadable emotions behind them. “I know that more than any of you. Besides, how else do you explain the fact that he’s still a vampire?”

“I’m not Kas,” Eddie insists, though no one really seems to be listening to him. He takes a deep breath and wills his fangs to retract - and, miraculously, they do. Maybe it will be easier if he looks more normal again.

He really shouldn’t have said anything. He should’ve kept his sharp new teeth to himself instead of reigniting everyone’s suspicion. He’s not sure what he was thinking, only that he’s so fucking scared he needed to do something, and maybe some stupid desperate part of him was still clinging to the hope that his friends might give up on trying to solve him and start trying to help him. But clearly that’s not going to happen anytime soon. There's no comfort to be found here. He’s on his own with his fear and it's threatening to overwhelm him.

But he can't have a breakdown, not now, not here, not with these people. Eddie takes another measured breath and tries to redirect his growing panic into something safer, something more productive. Agitation maybe, frustration.

It's not too hard. Everyone is theorizing again.

“What if the vampirism wasn’t actually because of Kas?” Mike is saying. “What if it happened separately from Kas, like a mutation in just the body that maybe made it more viable for Kas or whatever, but not necessarily connected to him?”

“So when Kas died with Vecna, the mutation still stayed,” Will tacks on, nodding like it makes total sense. “It might even be what’s keeping the body alive still.”

“I’m not some fucking thing!” Eddie finally snaps. “And I’m right fucking here!” Predictably, there’s a collective flinch at his outburst, startled eyes snapping to attention. He huffs, pulling agitated hands through his grimey, tangled hair. “Look, I’m not a threat to any of you, alright? In fact, all I really wanna do right now is just go home and take a nice hot fucking shower because I’m exhausted and filthy and clearly I’m just freaking you guys out by being here. So if you’re all done trying to figure out what sort of monster I am, can I get going now or are you guys gonna try to stop me?”

There’s a bit of an awkward pause at that, like no one’s quite sure what to say or how to say it.

“You, uh, you can’t go home,” Robin tells him, a little apologetic scrunch to her face. “Not because we won’t let you or anything, it just kinda…doesn’t exist anymore.”

“Your trailer was destroyed when Vecna split the world open and your uncle moved to some government-paid-for house miles outside of town,” Nancy explains. “He was told you were dead, so…”

So Wayne didn’t have a reason to stay in Hawkins anymore, especially not if he had enough government hush money to afford somewhere nicer. Eddie can’t fault the old man for that, although this news does waver his current ability to keep holding himself together. He forces down the emotion rising in his throat. “Right.”

“You stayed at Steve’s last time,” Dustin offers helpfully, earning him a glare from Steve, which he then makes worse by amending, “Or, well- Kas did, while he was pretending to be you.”

Eddie graciously manages to ignore Dustin’s complete inability to read the goddamn room, and looks at Steve instead. “I take it that’s not an option this time?”

“I don’t know.” Steve crosses his arms and frowns as he considers Eddie with those fractured eyes of his. “You can use my shower,” he decides finally, “just so that the sight of you wandering around covered in blood doesn’t send the whole town into another witch hunt again. But beyond that…I wouldn’t count on it.”

“That’s good enough for me,” Eddie says. He just needs to get out of here, as if a change of scenery might change his situation. Everything else he can figure out later when he’s not so singularly focused on trying not to fall apart.

“Great,” Steve says dryly, like he might already be regretting this decision.

He turns away from him again for more conversation Eddie's not part of anymore. But at least they're not talking about him this time. It's mostly just a basic discussion of what everyone's doing next: who's going to update Max (who apparently is currently blind and wheelchair-bound and couldn't be here for the main fight), who's going to stay and help dispose of all the Upside-Down creature corpses, when they're gonna regroup next, how long El thinks it will take for her to recharge enough to be able to use her mind powers to check on the situation in Eddie's head. Okay so maybe some of it is still about him.

Steve makes a comment about how his task is to “babysit the vampire,” and Robin must’ve caught the way Eddie grits his teeth a bit at that because she ducks away from the rest of the group to talk to him.

“Hey, Eddie. Cut him some slack,” she says, gesturing with a dip of her head towards Steve. “Kas messed with all of us, but he messed with Steve the most. This is especially hard for him, just give him some time.”

“Yeah, okay.” Eddie folds his arms over his chest, his fingers pressing into his biceps like it might help to press down everything roiling inside of him. He’s getting antsier and antsier by the second, and Robin is absolutely not helping. His guilt flares again and so does his irritation, the two mixing like oil and water. He can’t even begin to imagine what awful things Kas had used him to put everyone through, and of course he understands that, but at the same time it’s not like this is all that easy for him either. No one seems to appreciate that Eddie is also having a terrible fucking time right now too.

“Oh, and you should know - if you somehow are still Kas and you fuck with him again, I will personally make sure that you join Vecna in the beheaded freaks club in the afterlife,” Robin adds, perfectly matter of fact, and Eddie doesn’t doubt her.

“Yeah, alright, Robin, I get it,” he assures her before she can say anything else to make him feel even worse. “You don’t have anything to worry about.”

“Good.” She nods, apparently satisfied enough with his response, and the tiny half-smile she offers him then is the closest thing to sympathy or apology he’s received all day.

“Are you ready to go?” Steve approaches, swapping places with Robin as she falls back to rejoin the rest of the group.

Eddie nods, dropping his arms and rolling back his tense shoulders. “Lead the way, Stevie.”

Steve flinches. “Don’t call me that.” He turns sharply on his heel and starts walking off in long, quick strides.

Eddie nearly has to jog to catch up to him. “Sorry.”

Steve doesn’t respond and the rest of the walk to his house passes in a thick and heavy silence. He can still hardly seem to look at Eddie, always staying a few steps in front and keeping his eyes fixedly forward with the same sort of steeled and measured determination that Eddie is also currently employing. Like maybe they’re both trying not to have a breakdown.

Thankfully this horribly uncomfortable journey does not have to be suffered through for very long, and they soon emerge from the woods into the Harrington’s sprawling backyard. If Eddie was in any state to, he might’ve made some comment or joke, some dig about Steve’s rich-kid house, but now he stays quiet, mutely following Steve inside.

Steve gathers up a fresh towel and some clean clothes for Eddie to borrow. “Here. You can use the bathroom down the hall, second door on the right.”

“Thank you,” Eddie says, sincerely. Steve only nods, looking away from him again.

And now Eddie is finally alone, in the biggest bathroom he’s ever seen in his life. His entire trailer could probably fit in here three times over and that’s only a mild exaggeration. There’s huge mirror above two sinks, a jacuzzi bathtub in one corner and a fancy shower with glass doors in the one adjacent, and in the center of it all there’s even this large circular cushioned seat, perfectly in front of the toilet just in case you wanted to have a friend come sit and chat while you take a shit. Again, this would be a comedy gold mine if only Eddie wasn’t already too distressed to appreciate it. Instead he hardly even takes a second to look around before he simply strips off his filthy clothes and makes a beeline for the shower.

The second those glass doors close behind him and the warm water hits his back, that flimsy little wall he’d been trying to build up around his emotion crumbles completely and all his fear and guilt and everything else tears out of him in a ragged sob that wracks through him so completely his entire body shudders and convulses with it. Another sob breaks through before the first one’s even finished, and then another and another and another. He’s choking on his tears, hardly able to breathe. His thoughts aren’t helping either, set free and spiraling through every awful thing he hadn’t been able to let himself dwell on earlier.

What did you do? You were used, violated, your hands have drawn blood, maybe even killed, why didn’t you stop it? His mind berates him, blames him. Kas had hurt and damaged and destroyed, every act seeping into and staining the vessel he’d used to do it, and then he’d left Eddie behind to carry the weight of it all on his own. Left him in the body of a monster, in every single way. You’ll need to draw blood again to live, drain the life of another living thing to sustain your own. Who or what will you hurt next? You’re a monster. A monster a monster a monster.

He’s never felt such despair or so trapped in his own skin. I can’t live like this. He sinks to the ground, curled in on himself and gasping, drowning, drowning in the roar of his mind and emotion and the water still beating down on him from the impassive shower head above him. His thoughts are becoming less and less complex or coherent with every hyperventilating breath until they ultimately solidify into simply: I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t.

A hesitant knock on the door startles him suddenly. Maybe if he wasn’t so lost inside himself and the sound of his own sobbing he would’ve heard the footsteps passing by and then passing back, a wavering pacing before the knock even occurred, but he hadn’t, and so it startles him, his rapid breaths now freezing entirely for a moment.

“Eddie?” Steve’s voice floats uncertainly from outside. “...Are you okay in there?”

“I’m fine,” Eddie manages, voice raw, and his lungs take the opportunity to resume with breaths even more panicked than before, as if to make up for the previous few seconds of suffocation.

“Are- You don’t sound fine,” Steve says after another moment of hesitation. “You…you kind of sound like you’re having a panic attack.”

Yeah, no shit. Eddie only curls up further, knees to his chest, arms in a death grip around his legs. He can’t find the breath to speak again. He can’t he can’t he can’t.

A few more seconds stretch by and then Steve knocks again, softly. “Can I come in?”

I can’t. Eddie couldn’t move to unlock and open the door for him even if he wanted to. His body won’t listen, too stiff, too busy shaking. I can’t. “I can’t-” Aloud this time, quick and broken through his gasps. “I can’t- I can’t get up.”

A much longer pause this time. Maybe Steve’s left. Eddie doesn’t know, doesn’t care - can’t care, mind too full and too loud. And why wouldn’t Steve leave? He’s already made it clear he still thinks Eddie is a monster. A monster a monster I can’t

Something clicks in the lock and the door swings open. “Oh, Eddie…” Steve whispers at the sight of him, immediately rushing to open the shower doors, turn off the water, and drop down to join Eddie on the floor. He pulls Eddie’s tense and trembling body into his arms and holds him against his chest.

Eddie’s head falls into the crook of his neck, too close to the artery there, too close to the sound of Steve’s blood and the monster inside of Eddie. He dips his head lower, tucking it under Steve’s chin instead. Safer. “I don’t- I don’t want to be a monster, Steve,” he sobs, in all the choppy, shaky speech he can manage. “I can’t- can’t live like this. I can’t.”

“Hey, it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay,” Steve murmurs; soft, soothing voice. A hand comes up to gently stroke Eddie’s hair. “Just breathe, Eddie, you need to breathe. Can you do that? Can you breathe with me?”

Eddie can feel the slow, steady rise and fall of Steve’s chest beneath his head and he struggles to breathe in tandem with it. He manages one breath, two, but the third one breaks and shudders into another bout of hyperventilating.

“It’s okay, you got it,” Steve encourages, gentle and patient, still holding him, still stroking his hair in time with his even breaths. “Just keep breathing, keep breathing. That’s it,” he says as Eddie sucks in a deep inhale and tries again.

Slowly, very slowly, Eddie’s breath finally begins to consistently match the rhythm of Steve’s, and his shakiness starts to ease.

“There you go, good,” Steve continues to whisper. “That’s good, Eddie. You’re okay.”

Eddie’s recovered enough for some of the tension to drain from his body and he lets himself sag further into Steve’s chest with a heavy sigh. His coherence returned, he lets out a shaky, sniffly little laugh, hoping it doesn’t sound too bitter as he says, “Does this mean you believe me now?”

“Yeah,” Steve says quietly. “Kas never would’ve cried like that.” He holds Eddie a little closer, fingers curling in his hair. “I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you before.”

“S’okay,” Eddie mutters. “I get it. Robin said-” His voice wobbles still, tears pricking back up into his eyes. He takes a deep breath. “Robin said Kas messed with you more than the rest. What- what did he do to you?”

He can feel Steve shaking his head, his chin brushing against the top of Eddie’s hair. “Don’t worry about that.”

“I want to know.”

Steve is quiet for a moment. “Kas- well, you know he pretended to be you for a couple weeks before he turned on us, so he really fucked with everyone’s heads, but with me…for some reason with me he decided to fuck with my heart too,” he says finally, still incredibly vague and not actually offering much at all in the way of explanation, but Eddie gets the gist of it just fine.

“Oh.” It makes a little more sense now, the depth of pain in Steve’s eyes, why he found it so hard to look at him, why Robin was so protective. Kas hadn’t just betrayed Steve’s trust and friendship, he’d seduced him into thinking they were something more than that and then broke his heart too. Eddie feels like he might cry again. “I’m so sorry…” He lifts his head and sits up a bit, suddenly finding it kind of cruel to keep being cuddled up to Steve like that.

“It’s okay, it wasn’t you.” Steve’s arms fall away from him and he leans back slightly as if to give Eddie some space. His tone is reassuring enough, though his gaze has become avoidant again.

Eddie hadn’t really wanted Steve to let go of him, but maybe that’s cruel too. He pulls his knees back up tight to his chest, and it occurs to him also that he’s still quite naked.

This has evidently occurred to Steve too, because he’s already turning away to reach for the towel that Eddie had, in his rush earlier, dropped unceremoniously on the floor just outside the shower. “For your modesty, dude.” He cracks a lopsided smile as he tosses the towel over Eddie’s lap.

“Thanks,” Eddie returns the smile with a soft chuckle, grateful for the attempt at levity in the face of the awkwardness that’s beginning to settle back between them. A brief moment of respite before Steve shutters his expression of genuine affection and Eddie’s mind returns in force to all its guilt and worry.

Selfishly, he wishes Steve would still hold on to him, because he still feels like he could fall apart again at any moment. That wouldn’t be fair to him, though, and so Eddie simply holds himself a little tighter, arms wrapped firmly around his knees. Beside him, Steve has shuffled into a similar position, a little less tense and hunched maybe but still just as uneasy.

It’s a game of looking and looking away, eyes never quite on each other at the same time, neither of them sure what to say or what to do, only with a sense that there is something more that should be said or should be done.

“Um-” Bringing this up won’t help anything, in fact it will probably only make things worse, but Eddie starts to ask one of the questions on his mind regardless. “You said Kas messed with your heart, so did-?” He pauses, hesitates, then rephrases, “When I was…gone, I wasn’t really, um, aware of anything, but sometimes I would have these dreams, just little bits and pieces, and in some of them- in some of them I saw us kissing. So did that, uh- did that actually happen?”

Steve looks over at him. “Yeah.” He nods. His eyes land briefly on Eddie’s lips and then guiltily dart away. “Yeah, that actually happened.”

“Okay.” Eddie takes a breath, tapping his fingers against his shins, nervous to find out just what else exactly his body had been used for. “And was it only kissing, or did we- did you guys…?”

“No,” Steve is quick to reassure him, his eyes going wide as he shakes his head. “No, it was just kissing, that’s it, nothing else happened. We realized it wasn’t you before our, uh, relationship could progress that far.”

Eddie exhales in relief. “Good.” That probably would’ve sent him into another panic attack. Not that he’s necessarily opposed to the idea of sleeping with Steve Harrington, he’d just very much prefer to actually be there and present in his own body for that if it ever were to happen. So it’s a good thing it didn’t while he wasn’t. That worry, at least, is eased.

But something about the way Steve is looking at him - or rather not looking at him - is still stressing him out. He glances at Steve who glances away, and there’s still more that they’re not saying.

“There’s something else, though, isn’t there?” Eddie presses, his fingers resuming their nervous drumming. “Something else happened that you’re not telling me?”

Steve shakes his head again. “It’s nothing, it’s not- it’s nothing you need to worry about.”

“Right, that’s super reassuring,” Eddie huffs. His mind could spiral through a thousand awful possible things it could be if he’d let it, and he’s trying very hard not to. “What- Did Kas hurt someone or something - like, seriously?”

“He bit my neck, tore up Dustin’s arm, and got Robin’s face pretty good too.”

Eddie had gathered that already. “But that’s not the thing you’re not telling me.”

“No, because it’s stupid. It’s not anything Kas did, it’s not a stain on your hands. He just knew how to get under my skin, is all. Don’t worry about it,” Steve insists.

“Too late, I’m already worried about it,” Eddie says, getting frustrated now. “And clearly you have something you want to say about it, otherwise you would’ve gotten up and left by now.”

Steve blinks like this analysis has thrown him. “I haven’t gotten up and left by now because I wanted to make sure you were okay. But I can get up and leave if you want me to.”

“For fuck’s sake, Steve!” Eddie bursts out. “Can you just fucking tell me!?”

“Fine!” Steve snaps back, then sighs and softens his voice, “Fine. Kas was a liar, I know that, so it really doesn’t matter anyways, but fine.” He runs a hand through his hair, hesitant and reluctant, wavering through a few false starts as if unsure of exactly how to tell it. “He’d just attacked us after we confronted him with our suspicions. I mean- his teeth had just been in my neck, the jig was up, and now he was just saying whatever he thought would hurt us most in that moment…”

Eddie nods with impatiently widened eyes, urging him to stop stalling and get to the goddamn point already.

“He told us you were dead, gone, whatever, but that he had access to all of your old thoughts and memories and feelings,” Steve finally starts approaching the point. “Kas never actually cared about me, he told me that and it wasn’t a surprise, but then- I mean, he could’ve just gone for easy and brutal and told me that you never gave a shit about me either, but no. No, Kas was so clever with his cruelty…” He falters again here, a bitter exhale and an awkward pause, not quite looking away from Eddie but not quite looking at him either.

Eddie curls apprehensively over his knees. “The suspense is killing me, man. What the fuck did he say about me?”

Steve takes a deep breath, as if to steel himself. “He said that you did give a shit about me? I mean, he said that he had just been going off of what was already there in your head, that he only…went after me the way he did because of the thoughts and, uh, feelings that you already had about me - or for me, I guess. I know he was probably lying though,” he barrels on before Eddie can even begin to react to any of that. “I think he just thought the ‘what if’s and ‘what could’ve been’s would drive me crazier, you know, hope always hurts more, and it did, he was right, but it’s fine. I know Kas was just a liar and a jerk and I shouldn’t believe a word he said-”

“Wait, Steve-” Eddie interrupts his nervous rambling, sitting up a little straighter. “Steve, he wasn’t lying - not about the, uh, my thoughts and feelings and stuff at least, not really.”

Steve finally looks at him, eyes a little bigger with surprise and a tentative hope. “He wasn’t?”

Eddie shakes his head in confirmation. “No, he wasn’t.” He shrugs, feeling nervous and strange, like a little kid with a crush as he admits, “I mean- Well, I mean, yeah, I’ve thought about you. Like, in school I’d always had a sort of…curiosity about you, I’ve always looked at you, of course I have, you know, you’ve seen you. And then when we actually spent some time together, I mean yeah we were stressed out and fighting monsters and shit, but I don’t know, I liked just being around you, I really did. So- It’s not like it really got the chance to develop all that much or anything, but yeah, the thoughts and feelings were there- are there. I, uh, like you, or whatever the kids are calling it these days.”

“Oh.” Steve's face slowly spreads into a smile. “Really? That’s good to know. I, uh, like you too, obviously. I just wish we could’ve been figuring this out under better circumstances.”

“Yeah. You know, in any other context, me naked on your bathroom floor would actually be the perfect circumstance,” Eddie jokes, wiggling his eyebrows playfully. Steve laughs, a genuine burst that brightens his whole face, and, oh, Eddie would do just about anything to make sure that light stays in those gorgeous eyes forever. “I mean, seriously,” he continues teasing, “what the hell else are you supposed to use this bathroom for? There’s even a cuck couch in here and everything.”

Steve snorts, shoving at Eddie’s shoulder. “Shut up.”

“But I guess it’s just not as sexy when I look like a drowned rat and my face is still all red and puffy from crying, though, huh?” Eddie laments, his theatrics embellished with a mock pout.

“Says who?” Steve smirks and sits up on his knees to shuffle closer. He lifts a hand to Eddie’s cheek, gently tilting his face up. “I still think you’re beautiful.”

Eddie blushes, heart and lungs and brain rendered suddenly utterly useless. His dramaticism has shorted out and all he can manage is a flustered “Shut up.”

“I mean it.” Steve smiles at him, so softly, so warmly. Hard to believe that only a mere minute ago they were in the midst of the world’s most awkward conversation ever. Not that Eddie’s complaining at all about this turn of events though. Steve’s thumb brushes over his cheekbone. “And if you’re okay with it, I’d really, really like to kiss you - the real you this time.”

Yeah, Eddie is definitely not complaining. “I’m absolutely okay with it,” he says, the words barely past his lips before he’s getting a hand in Steve’s hair and tugging him closer.

They meet in the middle in a slow, sweet kiss, lips sliding together unhurried. The panic that had been sitting in Eddie's chest for so long is now entirely replaced by something warm and sparkly blooming through him, the remainder of his tension and worry melting away in favor of savoring the simple feeling of Steve's mouth against his. It's the sweetest thing he's ever tasted, a tenderness he's never known before. He could get lost in it forever.

Forever, however, happens to only be about 30 seconds, the kiss breaking when their growing smiles soon get in the way.

“Hmm,” Steve hums as they pull apart grinning, cradling Eddie’s face in both hands now.

“What?” Eddie asks breathlessly.

“Nothing, it's just, you’re softer than Kas was,” Steve muses. “I like it.” He kisses Eddie again, brief but lingering. Their foreheads rest against each other as Steve smiles softly at him and says, “I’m glad you’re you again.”

[crossdressingdeath]

Alistair: You're... you're taking advantage of the Templars! Encouraging them! And for money! You... despicable, profiteering crook!

It is very interesting seeing this line and then remembering that the context is Alistair being very upset that a Circle mage is... selling (smuggled) lyrium to the Templars. Alistair. Honey. If anyone in this arrangement is taking advantage of anyone it's not Godwin. Also given Godwin can't leave (meaning he can't really do a lot of shopping) I doubt it's just about the money? Like, it would make a lot of sense for part of the reasoning to be "If I'm supplying them with lyrium they'll probably be nice to me". I would love the option for a mage Warden to actually comment on the fact that... yeah, a lot of mages probably have arrangements of some variation or other with the Templars to keep them more or less friendly! Smuggling lyrium for them is probably one of the less upsetting options! The moments where Alistair's Templar training and lack of experience with mages and the Circles come to the surface are so fascinating to me, I'd love to actually discuss it with him.

[necrotic-nephilim]

i recently remembered DickTim Week 2024 is happening very soon and i looked at the prompts again to see if i could get anything out for it and. the Hades & Persephone AU prompt for day 1 has got me really thinking so here's a vague concept i plan to write.

i've been pretty burnt out on modern Hades & Persephone retellings because of how they always seem to fall into the same generic "innocent wide-eyed girl runs from her evil mean mother into the arms of a dark mysterious man because actually she went willingly and chose to marry him" which has gotten repetitive for my tastes. (for clarity i don't care if this retelling is your cup of tea personally, so long as you're not actively trying to rewrite the original myth and claim untrue things about it, if this is your favorite flavor i sincerely hope you enjoy the buffet i just have little interest in it since it feels overdone for me and exhausted of it's supposed commentary atp)

but? but. biblically accurate Hades & Persephone AU has me all kinds of interested. because wait listen so hear me out right. Hades!Dick and Persephone!Tim, obviously. i feel it'd be more loosely inspired by with themes and imagery (though playing with death and nature powers could be interesting, i haven't decided) rather than explicitly making them gods and all. but. something dark and fucked up where Dick and Bruce are especially estranged. maybe to do with Jason's return, maybe to do with them just clashing and having their usual explosive arguments. and Bruce knows the peace needs to be kept, if he and Dick are at odds then everyone starts to pick sides and things just fracture so he needs a peace offering.

and the peace offering is Tim.

Bruce (the stand-in for Zeus) offers up Tim. agrees to have Tim move to Bludhaven and be Dick's... whatever Dick wants him to be. knowing that with the implication comes the likelihood of Dick grooming Tim. and Tim has no real say and is hesitant to put up a real fight. he doesn't want this, he knows what this is going to imply Dick will do to him, but he also knows if he says no things have the possibility to just... fall apart. so he's the unwilling bride, dragged off to the metaphorical underworld (Bludhaven) with Dick, away from his family, his friends, the life he built.

and on the flip side, i think weirdly enough, your best pick for the Demeter stand-in is *Jason*. just, hear me out on that. not necessarily on the side of it being motherly, but on Jason being just estranged enough from the Batfamily to be the one willing to call it out for being bad and wrong and raising bloody hell to get Tim back. maybe it's because Jason wants Tim for himself, maybe it's truly out of a concern for Tim to have autonomy, i'm toying with the idea of it primarily being Tim's POV and him genuinely not knowing which of these is true. (and the truth possibly ends up being a complicated middle ground) and because i like Helena, i think you can use her as the Hekate stand in, the one who strikes a tentative alliance with Jason and tries to go find Tim and bring him back. Tim stuck with Dick, getting groomed and hyperaware of it, possibly even getting fucked the whole time as well, knowing he can't go back without causing massive issues for Dick and Bruce because well, Bruce did promise him to Dick. so he has to adjust his whole life, try to figure out being a vigilante in this new city with Dick breathing down his neck the whole time.

and then much like the ending of the myth, a sort of compromise is struck that's a shaky deal for everyone involved. Tim is put on an essential timeshare, going back and forth between Gotham, where he has friends and family and a support system, then getting dragged right back to Bludhaven with Dick in this brutal cycle that he slowly gets used to and stockholm'd into even liking it. Dick isn't so bad, once he gets used to the quirks of their unbalanced 'relationship'. the sex is even something he can adjust to as well. not quite a happy ending but one that sits in this realistic grey area that becomes Tim's life.

i will write this, eventually, but i don't know if i'll get to it before DickTim Week ends so by posting the idea i'm essentially putting it out into the world so the peer pressure holds me accountable. i just. really like the potential of making Hades/Persephone AUs as fucked up as they can be simply by adhering to the source material and making it a raw story of being stolen away and forced to like this new home you didn't ask for.

also a less fleshed-out aspect of this idea i have ties into Persephone becoming the Queen of the Underworld when she's taken and how the transition from Kore to Persephone could be reflected in Tim. how he makes the best of the worst situation and becomes something far more dangerous and dark when he's in Bludhaven, possibly takes on a new vigilante name/identity and leans into the worst quirks of his personality he tries to tamper because there's no point in not going full tilt Obsessively Weird if he has no choice anyway and it being one small way he takes back his autonomy, and that inevitably making Dick *more* into him, because he gets to see Tim finally just. let loose.

[apocalypticdemon]

man. i really thought i knew where this was going and now. i once again realize i have no idea what i'm doing

[tethered-heartstrings]

how do you get story ideas? i love creative writing but i can never find ideas for what to write about. do the ideas just come to you? do you do anything to inspire you?

it is a bit of both. sometimes ideas just come to me, especially pwps. a scene pops into my head and then i build a bigger scene/story around it. usually like "wow that wound be hot if xyz..." and then figuring out how to make that happen. sometimes it is something vague that inspires me like "werewolves" and then my brain goes 100mph and thinks of things that could fit into that kind of story/idea. for my first long fic, i had an idea but nothing super specific, and as the story progressed, a big monumental scene would come to me and i would build up to and taper down from that moment, versus me thinking of all the steps in between first. a good chunk of that story was me writing as i go (not ideal for me personally)

the most specific thing that inspired me to write, which was the first time it has really happened, was seeing @hannibalhadalittlelamb's art from an ask prompt. and the best way i can describe it is i saw it and the story started to unravel in my head. i didn't have to "think" about it, my brain made pieced something together

what's helped me is anytime i get an idea, even if it is vague or silly, i write it down and add any details or scenes or ideas that could fit. they may not all make the final cut, but it helps my brain formulate an idea. once i have disjointed ideas, i "sketch" out a plot and make the ideas in a linear timeline.

i also have some mutuals i bounce an idea off of and see if it works, and then in explaining it to them the plot starts to "write itself" if that makes sense. the big idea organically branches itself out to smaller, more specific details

i struggle with creative writing, but writing for a fandom and having pre-established characters that i understand helps a lot. i just take those personalities and sometimes canon events and reshape them to fit a new situation. i never force an idea. if it comes to me, and the vague plot "writes itself", then that's awesome. but if i stare at a prompt and nothing comes to me, i just scratch that and move on. i chase the lightbulbs that turn on, but i won't bother with making the ones that are burned out work.

[alwaysbethewest]

Dave York is an older, edgier (read: murdery) Marcus Pike 🤷‍♀️ It’s totally possible to remain on the edge of the pit as an observer. I’ve watched Equalizer 2 an embarrassing number of times and haven’t fallen in.

No chance against Joel and a knife, the “you’re next” smirk, and “WHAT TOWN.” I’ll dig the holes for that man’s dead bodies 🥲

Received this yesterday and honestly couldn't reply to it because every time I read that second paragraph and remembered that scene I felt tingly all over and could no longer function 🥴

I do find Dave an interesting character but I don't find myself drawn to interpretations of him that are, I guess, redemptive? I prefer ones that embrace his dark side.

[stellarspecter]

okay yall I kinda wanna write a fic transing steve harrington's gender there are some good ones out there but I want to also lmao

[itsabird-itsaplane-nopejustabird]

DPxDC Prompt

I've had this idea for a while (since seeing that art of Johnny and Kitty robbing a bank so Danny can get Top Surgery lol) but I haven't even had the brain to work on my own fic recently (sorry about that btw) so I'm writing this instead

So the concept:

T4T Johnny and Kitty, who died in the 80s after running away together.

Johnny was the kid of some rich asshole automobile mogul from Bristol, and Kitty was one of the workers' kids from the Narrows. They become friends, fall in love, both realize they're trans around the same time and then decide to run. They know that being trans on top of tax bracket difference gives them almost no chance of making it. Johnny steals a bike and a fuck-ton of money from his parents, and Kitty's parent(s) helps them leave.

They're still toxic and spiteful as hell, but nothing the other does can change the fact that they know and understand each other better than anyone else could.

They travel around the country being menaces together for a while until they decide to settle down in a strange city called Amity Park. They figured it could handle a couple more anomalies. But before they can get there, they get into a bike wreck with their final thoughts being of each other and Johnny specifically cursing his bad luck in life.

The next thing they know, they're in the infinite realms being given the chance to stay together and the freedom to simply exist with no strings attached. (Other than each other cause I firmly believe that they're mutually the others' obsession)

About 20 years have passed, a portal to their old world is permanently open and this scrawny little ass kid ghost that they've never even heard of keeps stopping them from going through it.

It isn't until Johnny actually starts paying attention a few months into it that he notices that first, the little shit can actually fight, and second, HE WAS FIGHTING THEM WITH A BINDER ON. (Johnny also vaguely wonders why Danny looks so much like his old neighbor Brucie, but that's less important than the binder thing). Johnny lets out the universal ghost fight timeout signal and vaguely explains the situation to Danny, who seems confused about the noise he made and why it made him stop.

Johnny gets Kitty to spread the word that if the timeout isn't called off by the next morning, stay TF away until they get an all-clear.

That night, *after yelling at him a bit*, he starts teaching Danny how to reshape his ghost form to his preference and even his vocal cords.

From there, Johnny and Kitty sorta ghost adopt him as a sibling and then take him to Frostbite to make sure his T-shots are ecto compatible.

(I hope this was coherent it's 4am for me and I haven't slept lol)

[starswallowingsea]

okay i decided to do a random number generator and some tarot cards so uhm. lets see. this is just spitballing ideas under the cut btw not an actual fic

for the characters i got yuzuru and mao, and i pulled the chariot, the three of swords, and the magician. so i think this is a deviation from the canon of the game in the ! era, at least in my mind, though i'd need to read more trickstar and fine stories to really do this idea justice and clean it up so just take this as me word vomiting a plot onto a post.

there are minor parallels between mao and yuzuru and their roles in their respective units, given that both of them take on more work than they should and are in the student council, combined with yuzuru's being tori's butler. they get along well enough and mao calls yuzuru by his given name now so its not like they get along poorly. this is all i have gathered just from quickly skimming mao's wiki page and their section on the relationships page.

i think...this fic would be a deviation from the canon in that trickstar doesnt come out on top and are defeated by fine and their counterparts from it (ie hokuto and eichi, wataru and subaru?, mao and yuzuru and i guess that leaves makoto and tori but i am not versed in trickstar lore very well so take this with a mountain of salt i never said this was going to be good) but which happens after they have developed this relationship where at least mao consideres yuzuru a friend and now that's just. shattered.

yuzuru doesn't necessarily realize in the moment what their relationship was to him until its broken before him on the stage as he pushes forward with fine until the very end, and it sinks in a little afterwards, maybe a few days, when mao is suddenly very very cold to him at the student council meetings. whatever amiability there had been before is gone, and there's no getting it back any time soon.

[sanguinesmi1e]

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 (you're here)

Full fic on Ao3

Art of LBM

Pt. 4: An Unexp-ectoed Party (not on Ao3 yet)

Constantine was quietly freaking out. He couldn’t be sure, but he suspected that the ghost who had turned itself into a cute little tatzelwurm to avoid answering questions might be something far beyond his capabilities to deal with. Everything it said and did suggested it was way outside his scope of experience. While Tim used a shoelace to play with it like a rambunctious kitten, John mentally catalogued the things that threatened to give him a panic attack:

Before the ghost even arrived, the blinding power flowing through his spell array nearly knocked him flat. It had felt like being swatted in the eyeballs by an eldritch god.

The ghost appeared in human form, fully alive, before being transformed by the summoning magic. John had only ever heard whispers of legends about a being who could do such a thing. The legends were vague and grandiose, but some epithets included The One Who Walks Between, He Who Straddles Life and Death, Twilight Walker, Shroud Danger Child, and The Halver. 

The ghost could not only see his soul at a glance, it could perceive all the damage he had done making deals with demons.

The ghost implied it was on casual, friendly terms with the Ancient of Time aka Chronos, Kala, Father Time, etc. And that it had altered the timeline at least once already.

It could age. Despite what the ghost said, only Neverborn should be able to age. The dead were static, and given the death that he could feel sustaining the portal, this ghost had definitely died.

It was brilliant enough to pinpoint a weakness and successfully distract Tim by transforming into a shape that could manipulate his protective instincts. John did not want to admit that he also felt protective of the cute little blighter.

It had hopped out of the summoning circle as if it were just chalk scribbles, despite John working in some of his most powerful containment spells as a matter of what he had thought was excessive precaution.

Shite, the list had already reached seven items. The tatzelwurm (had Drake really just named the thing Little Baby Man?) glared at him and called him “Gross!” 

“Seriously!? This cloaking spell should be more than sufficient.” John grumbled. “Did it really have no effect?” If so, that was gonna be item number eight.

Little Baby Man tilted his head. “It worked.” Then he huffed with amusement. 

Thank fuck for small blessings. 

A quickly muttered spell turned his burning cigarette into a makeshift sort of laser pointer, and Constantine distracted Little Baby Man while he tried to think of what to do next.

“Hey kid, this is a problem.” He kept his voice low, and watched to see if the tatzelwurm appeared to pay any attention to him. It dedicated all its attention to the glowing dot, and ignored the two men.

“I assume this isn’t the normal direction your interrogations go.” Drake wound his shoelace around his hand and pocketed it. “It’s certainly a first for me.”

“Ditto, in so many ways.”

“Any idea what to do now?”

“We should probably return him where he came from, and wait for Zatanna to get back from wherever she’s disappeared to now.” John would really like a second opinion. He would also like to dump this mess in someone else’s lap and be on his way. 

Although to be fair, watching the tatzelwurm careen around after his lazer dot was actually pretty fun. Not that he’d ever admit it. Still, the creature was done answering questions and John wasn’t prepared to bind the thing because he didn’t think he’d need to pack the tools to bind an eldritch god when Batman called him to do a “quick consult.”

Danny couldn’t remember the last time he had this much fun. The CEO person played with him! He did feel a bit bad for hurting his foot, but it was difficult to dwell on regrets or worries when he could attack the string instead. And now there was a red dot to chase! It was very fast and sneaky, but he was faster and sneakier.

Is this what Paulina felt like when she wished herself to be a giant chibi version of herself to be loved and worshipped by everyone? Because he felt adorable. And fierce. He was going to kill that red dot so hard when he finally sunk his claws in it!

Frustratingly, it seemed to also have intangibility powers. Well, Danny knew what to do about that! He concentrated ectoplasm into his paw and bapped it down hard on the dot. This scorched the floor a bit, but when he lifted his paw, the red dot was skewered on one of his claws. It tried to tug away, but he clung tight. Apparently its size belied its strength, because it started to drag him across the floor. 

Danny tried to release the dot, but his claw was firmly snagged, so he resigned himself to being dragged back into the chalk circle. He tingled a bit as he crossed the perimeter, but it wasn’t a bad sensation, just a little odd. Then a portal opened up and pulled him through the water filled tube snake toy sensation in reverse and ugh! Just as bad the second time, if not worse.

The spell spat him out in human form under the Specter Speeder. Or rather, it ejected him at speed so he smacked into the bottom of the Speeder before falling back to the ground with a heavy thud. Thankfully he didn’t crack his head against the concrete, but he still couldn’t stifle a pained groan.

A firm hand wrapped around Danny’s ankle and dragged him out, and he found himself staring up at Drake and Constantine for the third time that day.

“Uh, hi,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I suppose I have some explaining to do.”

Being able to create ghost portals would come in real handy right about now. Maybe he should just commit some arson and let these two deal with escaping the basement on their own.

[ghsface]

Hi k have a kinda specific request that I thought would make a good fic! I was thinking that maybe we see the BAU and y/n and Spencer the morning after Yk… the girls figure out that y/n just got layes and they do the whole bonding girl gossip thing. Derek sees Spencer wearing a scarf and makes a joke about it, only to realize that he was right. Penelope tells Derek and then without y/n or Spencer realizing like everyone knows. They also figure out why Reid is the only one with hikeys 🫢 and yeah…. Thanks queen! I hope this makes sense

New Message ✮⋆˙

Hey gorgeous, I love this idea so much, it was very fun to write I hope you like 🎀 🩷

our secret, not so secret - Spencer Reid

Sumary: You and Spencer try to hide your relationship, but it's hard when you have hickeys on your neck.

Warnings: fluff, jokes, hickeys, the bau being chaotic, I think that's all, this is pure fluff,

A/n: I'm sorry if there is something wrong or not understood, my first language is not English.

⛧°。 ⋆༺ ✮ ༻⋆。 °⛧

It was a chaotic morning for you. You woke up a little late and the mess was evident in Spencer's bathroom mirror, with those little reminders on your neck that not even the concealer could completely hide. You were aware that you were trying a desperate maneuver, but well, Spencer had already warned you that the makeup would not last the entire day. Still, you were determined not to leave any evidence, you applied the last layer of foundation before leaving his apartment, determined not to give any clues about what happened the night before.

For Spencer, the situation was not much different. She decided to cover the marks with a scarf, trying to act normal as they prepared to face another day of work at the BAU, as if everything was perfectly under control. The two of you looked at each other knowingly before leaving, in an attempt to keep your relationship a secret... again.

Arriving at the office, you said good morning as if nothing had happened. But it wasn’t long before Emily and JJ, who seemed to have a radar for these matters, caught you in their line of sight. They looked you up and down with a mischievous grin, and without missing a beat, JJ raised an eyebrow and fired the first bullet: “And that face, Y/N? Long night?”

You tried to shake your head with a nervous laugh, avoiding looking at the two too much, but Emily stepped closer, lowering her tone so as not to draw too much attention. “Oh, come on, babe. There’s a sparkle in your eyes… and, from what I see, on your neck too.”

With your heart in your throat, you quickly glanced at your reflection in a nearby frame and noticed that the base had already begun to fade, leaving a faint purple mark showing. Emily and JJ glanced at each other, and then Penelope, who appeared out of nowhere as if she had smelled the drama, also joined the small circle. “Please let me guess… was anyone busy last night?”

Between laughs and accusations, you tried to defend yourself without much success. You knew they were trying to provoke you and that, at this rate, the secret wasn't going to last long. Emily and JJ's laughter soon attracted Derek, who approached with a mocking smile. “What's up, girls? Something I'm missing?”

Emily gave him a knowing look and pointed towards the entrance, where Spencer had just appeared with a very inconspicuous scarf. Derek narrowed his eyes and laughed. “Since when does Spencer wear scarves? It's spring, for God's sake.”

They all looked at each other, hiding their laughter, as Derek approached Spencer. With an attitude that only Derek could adopt, he patted him on the back and gave him a knowing smile. “Pretty boy… do you need some advice on how to handle the weather?”

Spencer froze for a second, trying not to lose his cool. He knew he had been caught. He tried to respond with a vague excuse about “changing his style” and “protecting his throat,” but Derek simply held up his hands in an innocent gesture. “Sure, sure, I imagine the weather was intense last night, right?”

Meanwhile, you were trying not to burst out laughing at Spencer's obvious blush and despair. But Derek, who had caught on to the whole situation, turned around to join Emily, JJ, and Penelope again, winking at the girls. “See what I'm saying? Our genius boy is growing up.”

Before Spencer could respond, Hotch walked past the group, observing the laughter and commotion with his usual seriousness. But something in his expression betrayed that he fully understood what the conversation was about.

“Anything you want to share?” he asked, without losing his composure.

Derek shook his head with a smile, but took the opportunity to continue provoking. “Nothing, Hotch. It just seems that some of your colleagues have… interesting extracurricular activities.”

Hotch cast a quick glance at you, who were trying to make yourself small at your desk, and then at Spencer, with her suspicious scarf. For the first time, a barely perceptible smile crossed his face.

“I guess ‘activities’ require a little more discretion next time, too, huh?” Hotch said, before continuing on his way.

As the team laughed and threw around comments, Rossi walked over with a cup of coffee, assessing the scene like the veteran he was. “Ah, youth… that energy and lack of subtlety. There’s nothing like first love at work.”

By then, the rumor had already spread throughout the office.

Hours later, as you tried to continue with your work, Penelope approached with a whisper. “Honey, we all know. You two don’t have to hide anything.” Your surprised expression was enough to make her laugh. “Did you really think you could keep it a secret? Come on, we’re profilers. Wait not me but thay do. Plus… you’ve never come to the office so… happy.”

You decided to give in and accept it, and just as you were about to approach Spencer to tell him, he appeared at your side, still wearing the scarf. When you turned to look at him, he already had that resigned expression on his face that made you laugh. “How much did you hear?” he asked with a sigh, looking around and catching everyone’s smiles.

“Everything?” you said with a mocking smile.

Finally, Derek, with an air of triumph, approached the two of you and announced loudly, “And that’s how it’s done, ladies and gentlemen! Our boy has become quite the man.” The office was filled with laughter and jokes as you and Spencer exchanged glances that were somewhere between nervous and amused.

Emily approached you and, not missing the opportunity, added, “So… how long did you think you were going to last without us finding out? A day, maybe two?”

You bit your lip, embarrassed, and looked at Spencer, who didn’t know whether to laugh or faint. In the end, there wasn’t much else to say.

JJ laughed, giving you a gentle shove. “Relax, Y/N. We knew before you guys realized it. We were just waiting to see how long it would take you to admit it.”

You and Spencer exchanged a resigned look. Maybe their “secret” hadn’t been so secret after all.

⛧°。 ⋆༺ ✮ ༻⋆。 °⛧

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly, and feel free to leave a request ✮

[vitentia]

DEAR DIARY, DAY TWO OF HAVING A GIRLFRIEND….MIGHT DIE.

pairings ━━ jackson!ellie williams x reader

warnings ━━ tooth rotting fluff I fear

synopsis ━━ you like Ellie, ellie likes you, she grows enough tit to ask you out and surprise! you said yes! yet somehow you’re more nervous around your girlfriend than when she was your crush…AGH!

authors note ━━ did I go ghost for a year? yes. did I hear someone ask for more fluff/angst amidst freaktober on tumblr? also yes. I have come to provide🫡

IMPORTANT note — if you wanna request an Ellie or Abby fic, just pm me! I think coming up with all the fics on my own is the reason I burnt out but send me any ideas you have that aren’t smut bc I SUCK at writing that. Im also considering writing for arcane?? So yeah!

Cleaning horse shit isn’t the sexiest job in the world, which is why you were eternally grateful your girlfriend had been assigned to go on patrol with Tommy this morning. Even the thought of “your girlfriend” sent shivers down your spine and a red hot blush on your cheeks. You sniffled and wiped your cheek against your shoulder, conveniently the jacket your girlfriend, Ellie, had given you last night.

Again, you fought back a smile as the words “my girlfriend, ellie” popped into your head. Just 48 hours ago you were accepting the fact that you might have to yearn for the brunette from afar for the rest of your lives, and today you were biting your lips trying not to look too happy shoveling actual shit.

“Hey girlie!” Called out the man in charge, his big gut making it’s way into the shed before his head did as he leaned against his favorite horses stead. “You’ve been relieved. Tommy and Ellie are on their way back, just put the girls back where they belong and I’ll feed them, get it?”

“Got it.”

“Good.” He replied quickly before raising the pitch of his voice and cooing down at the large horse between his palms like a baby.

You snickered at his actions but couldn’t resist the speedy pace you walked at as you grabbed your hanging bag and ran towards the shed bathroom. As soon as you locked the door behind you, you immediately shoved off your almost knee length rubber boots and changed into your cutest (aka least creased) boots. Despite not having any perfume like they did back then, you did make sure to grab a special bar of soap before you left your house and scrubbed the lavender scent into your arms like your life depended on it. Looking in the dirty mirror, you tried to vaguely make out whether or not you looked presentable. You tried lowering the v-cut shirt you were wearing but immediately shook your head and decided against it.

Just as you were in between hyping yourself up and finding an escape route, the guards on top shouted out, stating that the doors were opening.

You were a nervous wreck. Constantly pushing your hair in front of your forehead and then behind your ear while simultaneously walking towards the front of Jackson where your girlfriend would be making an entrance.

With the sun beaming behind her head and shining her brown locks into a beautiful golden color, you had to raise your hand above your eyes to protect yourself. Has she always been this beautiful or are the God’s reminding me how perfect my girlfriend is?

“Millers! You’re back early.” A nearby card player called out, kicking his feet back against a wooden barrel with a cigarette hanging half out of his mouth.

“Yeah well, Ellie was killin’ them things left and right. Would’ve thought she had somewhere to be.” Tommy joked, sliding off his horse and giving you the reigns with a smile. For a second, your heart skipped a beat, believing she might’ve told him on their journey.

“Hey, if you’re a lousy shot, just say that.” Ellie teased him back with a shrug, remaining on her horse with no movement towards getting down. You looked up at her in confusion but as soon as your eyes connected, you immediately looked away, feeling your face burn.

“Yeah, next time I go out on patrol I know who to call.” The man chuckled

“Thank you, man.” Tommy beamed

“Not you, dipshit.”

You and Ellie let out a surprised cackle, and while you tried covering yours up with a cough as Tommy glared in your direction, Ellie couldn’t hold back her hearty laugh. She slapped her thigh and wiped an invisible tear from her eye as Tommy rambled on. While her uncle turned his anger to the card player, she caught your eye and motioned her head towards the stables.

“Lead the way.”

You nodded and lowered your gaze again, mentally freaking out as you guided Tommy’s horse back into her stable with Ellie following close behind on her own. Whilst you removed her gear gently, you could hear the clanging of Ellie following suit behind you. And when she finished, she simply watched you.

“You’re so gentle with them.” You jumped at her words, not expecting her to be so close as she leaned against the entrance of the stable. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” She chuckled lightly.

“No, you’re good I, uh, I have this…idea that they’re so on edge from being outside that they can’t really tell when it’s time to relax and when it’s time to work. So I just try to make the transition easier, you know? No loud noises, extra treats, stuff like that..” You answered, giving the ol’ girl a nice rub on her sides.

Ellie hummed and leaned her body backwards, looking both ways to see if anyone was around before stepping into the stable you were in. Her steps were slow as she approached you and you resisted the urge to step away, not for any reason besides you literally thought you might combust being this close to her.

She stood in front of you, eyes staring deeply into yours while her hands remained at her sides. “I’ve been thinking about you all morning.” She said in a low voice.

“Really?”

“Of course.” Her head lowered to find your hands, she clasped both of your hands in both of hers as she admired you. “How could I not?”

Your mind was screaming, blaring alarms, and throwing burning papers in the air as the people in your head attempted to regulate…well everything.

You let out an airy chuckle and looked down bashfully. “Well, you’re lucky you didn’t see me an hour before.” She gave you a confused look, so you continued. “I was cleaning up after the horses.”

Ellie looked up at the ceiling and thought about the vagueness of your words before a smile grew on her cheeks. She lifted her hand to cup her cheek to look her in the eye. “I think you would’ve looked beautiful anyway.”

“Shoveling horse shit?” You snorted

She shrugged. “As long as it doesn’t get in your mouth, no harm, no foul, right?”

“Ewww!” You whined as Ellie laughed at your reaction. You shivered at the thought. “Too early.”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” She surrendered, admiring your entire face for a minute before looking behind her quickly. “Hey…” she whispered, almost nervous in a way.

“Hey.”

She moved closer to you, reaching up to stroke your cheek and hoping you wouldn’t notice the way her hand shook the entire way up. “Can I get a kiss?”

Your heart leaped. Your vocal chords were nowhere to found, so you attempted a simple nod. But Ellie smiled at you and shook her head.

“Can I hear you say it?”

You gulped. “Please kiss me, Ellie.”

With a wide smile, she leaned in and connected your lips so gently, you felt like you were being kissed by a fairy. She let you both grow comfortable in the kiss before pulling away lightly, giving you the same chance, and leaning in once more when you chased after her lips. The two of you remained in a tight embrace, neither pushing the others boundary too much but putting enough pressure to know she were there. For a minute, you forgot where you were.

“Hey girlie!” A voice boomed

The two of you pulled away in shock, looking between each other before you quickly looked around at your surroundings and hurriedly threw a brown bag in Ellie’s direction. She caught it in both arms before spinning around to face the burly old man who sauntered over.

“Williams. What are you doing in my shed?” He questioned her.

You popped out from the other side of the horse and patted her side. “Sorry, sir. She wanted to give the girls some treats for their hard work out there.”

He looked between you two suspiciously before crossing his arms over his chest and staring at Ellie with a look you couldn’t put your finger on. “So you’re the one who’s been sneaking my girls extra snacks, eh?”

Ellie’s mouth opened and closed for a second before sighing and handing him the bag as if she’d been caught. “Yep, it’s me. Sorry, man.”

He sucked his teeth and snatched the bag out of her hand, reaching inside to grab a red apple and bite into it. “You’re lucky you’ve saved my ass more times than I can count, Williams.” He pointed at her and then to you. “And you, stop bein’ so damn nice. Y’all are gonna fatten my horses up. Now, get.”

You and Ellie swiftly made your way out of the horse shed, walking side by side inconspicuously throughout Jackson. Your hands occasionally bumped each other and you both resisted the urge to grab it. Ellie, because she didn’t want her business out to the whole world, and you, because your hands were probably dripping from how sweaty they felt.

You’d never felt this nervous around anyone. The secrecy of your relationship made it all the more wild. And yeah, it would be nice for everyone to know that Ellie is yours.

It’s also just nice being able to tell yourself that Ellie fucking Williams is your girlfriend.

[ladymercysletters]

NSFW Alphabet - Aemond Targaryen

A/N: very NSFW, obviously 18 + only. Me being horny on main for a full 8 A4 standard issue pages. I've written essays shorter than this. Honestly, you could probably take most of these as individual blurbs in themselves. Feel free to request fics based on any of the ideas floating about in this filth.

Word count: 4,006

High Valyarian Transation

“kostilus … ñuha jorraelza, ñuha mēre … kostōba vala” - Please… my one, my love… strong man

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

You might expect him to be cold and uncaring. Especially if your marriage had been arranged by your families. He would of course do his duty by you, but no more. Except it didn’t take him long at all to realise that you weren’t a duty; you were his – and his to take care of and love. After sex of any kind, or even a passionate kiss more than once, he would sink into your space and surround you with softness, lowly checking if you were well and if there was anything he could get for you.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Since losing his eye Aemond has carved his own body into a weapon. Each muscle was built for a particular role and allowed him to defend himself and attack his enemy successfully every time. If he had to choose a favourite body part of his it would probably be his arms. His swordsmanship is something he is something he is very modest about, though he would play it off as being obvious that he had skill but would never gloat about it. He is particularly proud of how he can manoeuvre a blade over his shoulder, twirling the heavy sheet of steel effortlessly to reign down on his opponent’s throat. He decided for definite that he would always train with a sword when he caught you watching his training one afternoon with Cole; he kept a close eye on you as yours never left his body as it moved. He watched as your chest rose and fell with each swoop of the blade and clash of metal, and especially when they paused for a break, and your eyes practically melted the clothes from his body where he stood.

Aemond would never tell you he preferred one part of your body to another. Though when you hide your smile with your hand he is always there to delicately pull it away. He once told you to never hide your smile from him; and whilst he had made it sound vaguely threatening at the time, he never actually told you it was because seeing your perfect lips widen into a brilliant smile made his heart practically leap from his chest with love for you. If he had to pick something tactile, Aemond would also say he loved how smooth and soft your skin was. A complete contrast to everything else around him, Aemond’s favourite part of the day was the end – when he would join you in your shared quarters, chambers, bed, and he could hold your soft form in his arms on your soft bed and you spoke about your respective days.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

At first Aemond would always cum inside you, one way or another. He wasn’t a huge fan of the mess, and neither of you being that experienced he quite naturally presumed as with everything, its best to be tidy. As you grew to know each other and explore what brought each other pleasure quite openly Aemond discovered he loved to see you covered in his cum. It first started when he had slipped out of you as he came, cumming across your open legs. For a short while he stared openly as the white pearlescent mess between your thighs before slowly spreading it further over you, moving his cum up and through the lips of your pussy to stimulate your clit. He was mesmerised with how you looked covered in him, marked as his. He went absolutely feral the first time you pulled off as you were sucking his cock, stroking him and giving small licks to the head of his cock as he lost control - cumming over your mouth before you pulled away to let him finish on your open blouse. When the hot flush had ebbed from his face he lolled his neck to look down at you. Seeing the mess he’d left on your face and his seed slipping down between your breasts and turning your shift translucent made his cock twitch in want.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Aemond would never reveal an ounce of your relationship or intimacies to anyone, not event the sept, but of course there were things that gave him more pleasure than he would grant voice to. More than once, he had thought about his love of it and cursed himself under his breath. He was a cunt-drunk fool. He could deny it all he liked but if the world fell apart tomorrow, he would not notice if he was buried between your thighs. The soft moans he could pull from you when your thighs quivered around his head, or the howling screams of pleasure and the gush of your completion that drove him to ecstasy himself more than once, when you rode his face. He would die your valiant steed if that was what you wanted. The way you would use him, his nose to rub against your bud and his tongue licked through your quivering folds, hands snaking round your thighs to suffocate him more. His hips would cant up, humping the air or the very breath you let out he did not know. But he would make himself a boy once more and spill untouched as you took your pleasure from him.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Before you wed Aemond was not experienced at all. He doesn’t think of what happened to him years ago as any kind of experience. Surely that wasn’t what his duty was, to lay with you would be different – and if it wasn’t maybe you could both carry on without it. But your first night together was different. He knew a lady should not be as experienced as the women in the streets but he was enamoured at your shy touches and looks as he held himself above you. As you explored your pleasure together Aemond found someone he could be truly vulnerable with, who would not mock or push him into doing something he did not wish to. Instead your shaking hands explored his firm lithe muscles, drawing soft fingertips down his back that made his hips jolt involuntarily into you.

F = Favourite position (this goes without saying)

Anywhere he can see your face. He’d take you in any position you asked him, or any that fit in the moment, but he’d never deny the most pleasure he gets is when he can see your face when you’re intimate. Missionary, when you’re lying in bed together in the evening – he can move you into whatever shape he wanted but he usually settles for hooking your leg over his hip, getting a better angle to thrust deeper into you. As much as he loves to control you movements and protect you he cannot deny the first morning you rolled him over and mounted him he prayed the gods would take him then and there so he could die in true bliss. Smoothing his hands over your curves as you lifted your linen shift over your head and rolled you hips – Aemonds breath was taken away from him.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Unsurprisingly he’s not goofy at all. Aemonds emotions have never come out of him in joyful giggles; the only emotion he’d ever let himself express fully before is anger. The most he has ever expressed in humour or light heartedness is when he first heard you whispering in broken High Valyrian to him as he had you against the door of the library. Your soft sighs of “kostilus … ñuha jorraelza, ñuha mēre … kostōba vala” made him beam with happiness against your neck, warmth and a tightness constricting his heart as he realised you had been practicing just for him. He showed his joy

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

His fine pale hairs that lightly trail down the lower half of his body, though they get slightly courser the closer to his cock and balls they get, barely mark any sort of maintenance – so he doesn’t really bother.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Aemond is far more romantic than anyone gives him credit for. Upon your marriage day, though both of you had barely spoken previously, he took your hand in his whilst you sat beside each other. Under the table where no one else could see and stroked the back of your hand with his thumb. On your wedding bed he covered your body with his own. Though there was no bedding ceremony, at Aemonds fiery insistence, he protected your modesty from the empty room with his bare back, your lower halves covered by a thin linen sheet as he settled himself between your legs. His hands often give away his softness towards you. Reaching out for you or lacing your fingers together as you lay with one another.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Aemond doesn’t really like using his fist. He’d much rather have you. When he’s away from you for any extended period he does, with grumbling regert, find that he’s more often than not stiff in the moring. A drawback to you awakening something within him and haunting his dreams whilst he is away. He groans in defeat as his hand trails down his abdomen. Stroking down his shaft before gripping it firmly. He’ll massage himself slowly, imagining you’re with him, doing it for him. Squeezing his balls in his other hand, he can make himself cum to the thought of your body, splayed out on your soft bed for him, calling to the gods only for him.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He much prefers to be dominant when with you. Mostly because it gives him control over himself but when you fully submit to him he can’t deny it thrills him the most. It first happened one evening, he’d been training all day and had some small cuts and grazes to him. The soothing bath the servants had prepared was doing much to ease the tension in his muscles but the way you tended to him distracted him from true relaxation. You had dismissed the maids, insistent you could tend to your husband yourself, and watching you looking almost like a maid yourself, the steaming water curling strands of your hair that fell from your face. When he was settled in bed you tended to him further, not listening as he told you he’d rather you lay with him to rest – only yielding when he grabbed at your waist, curling his arm around you and pulling you back to bed. As much as you fought in protest at injuring him further Aemond overpowered you. Hiking your skirts up and pushing himself inside you before you could utter another word of rest. Your pretty moans spilled from you as he took you helplessly, loving how your arms relaxed in his grasp and you legs spread further at his intrusion. Yes, Aemond loved to take you.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Your bedroom or chambers are his favourite. He has the freedom to take you wherever and however you please without anyone disturbing you unannounced. He loves the intimacy and comfort of your bed, being able to move into any sort of position you want with ease. Though the balcony at sunrise was one of his most favourite memories. In the quiet of the morning light, with your balcony facing the countryside, open plains the spread towards Hayford and Roseby. Aemond remembers how the light touched your skin as he rolled your shift off your shoulders, pressing reverent kisses to your warm exposed skin as his other hand trailed up your thigh and between your legs.

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

You. We’ve already gone over how Aemond had never thought of marriage as anything other than duty before you; and how your affection and love grew for one another after no more than mere months. His main motivation in wanting you at any time is that you understand him, you love him and he loves you. Of course this he can control day to day; but when your dress is a little more revealing than usual – exposing your neck to him and giving him a better view of your curves as you walk his eye drifts. When your hair is down in soft waves over your shoulders and back Aemond thinks of how it splays so nicely over your sheets, surrounding you like a halo as he treats you like his queen.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He would walk over hot coals if you asked him, but he hates the thought of every making you not feel good, or doing something that hurt or made you feel uncomfortable. He also hates the idea of being cornered and pushed into a situation he didn’t want. If you were to back him up into a corner and press yourself against him he would have no complaints what so ever; but if you were to do something he’s never done before without even speaking about it first he would go into an absolute panic and retreat back to the small boy he was the first time it happened.

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

As we’ve discovered Aemond could die a happy man between your thighs, so he of course prefers giving. But receiving is still one of the pleasures of the flesh he was most surprised to find himself enjoying. His shoulders would untense as you took him into your hot mouth. The feel of your small tongue licking the underside of his large cock and his view of you taking more and more of him into your throat had the meat of this thighs straining. Kisses, he didn’t know kisses could feel so good going down his cock, his breath hitching as you swallowed one, the both of his testicles into your mouth, tongue rolling over and playing with them – laving them before trailing up to the throbbing tip of his cock once more. Seeing you suck so deliriously on his head tasting his seed in your mouth and watching it fall from your face, making a mess of his bride was something that broke the last restraint holding him back from bringing you the utmost pleasure.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He has had you every which way – often depending on the circumstances. And he likes both for different reasons. The thrill of taking you wildly where at any moment you may be discovered, or slowly and passionately pulling only the best of sounds from your throat through the entire night… he couldn’t pick.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

When the mood strikes Aemond loves to take you in a hurry. Knowing he can have you and make you cum quickly leaves him feeling triumphant, the thought that you were a perfectly serene lady only moments ago – he can leave you a wanton, moaning mess; hair falling down and blouse open. Thighs sticky with your combined mess as he fixes himself only a little to leave when called upon. The image of you holding yourself up against a wall burned into his eye for the rest of the day, all through council meetings and bartering talks with his brother; all he could think of was getting back to your rooms this eve.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

As a rule, Aemond would never want to expose you to any sort of risk. He was almost insistent that you would not be intimate anywhere other than your bedrooms; especially when goaded by his brother that surely he would take you everywhere within and outside of the castle walls now that he would finally get his end away. For the first few months of your marriage he maintained his composure, treating you with only the utmost respect as demanded by your marriage and status. But as you grew to know one another, and Aemond’s passion for you warmed as well as his regard for you as a confidant his will slowly slipped. It started with a passionate kiss in the darkened corridors of the keep, on the way back from a feast when you just couldn’t wait for one another. From there it progressed to more frequent instances where Aemond or yourself, would pull each other away from a task or a group, into s quiet corner where no one would notice your intimate embraces – Aemond laying soft kisses up your collarbone or along the back of your neckline. Of course once he gets a taste for the thrill of your love outside of the bedroom he gets all sorts of ideas. The library for one.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

His stamina is ridiculous. Once he worked out that sex is essentially a form of exercise, he almost starts treating it lie a challenge. How many times can he go, how much can he make you come before you’re begging him to stop.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn’t want to use toys on you – or at least hasn’t discovered the pleasure of them yet. Your marriage is still young and he wishes to know your body fully with his own, wanting to pull as many beautiful sounds and finishes from you as possible.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He doesn’t enjoy teasing himself; he can just about bear when he sees you in the hall wearing one of his favourite dresses – the colour complimenting your tone and the cut of the bodice just slightly lower than normal, allowing him a view of the curve of your breast. Teasing isn’t something Aemond specifically seeks out in you, but when he realises that he has you on a precipice; and he sees the flush in your cheeks, quickness of breath, and the glazed look in your eyes he thinks he may just try and keep you that way for as long as possible – slowly drawing a firm thumb over your clit as he stills his cock inside you.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s not loud. Obviously – but he does groan softly. First when you kiss him, touch him, and spark his senses. He can smell your hair, taste the small amount of salt on your skin, feel your pulse under his lips as he trails them down your neck. When your hands wonder down to his cock he groans again, and once more when he first takes you. As the pace increases his breath will come out heavier, low rumbles that could be mistaken for thunder if your mind was elsewhere, growing into harsh pants as his hands grip onto you and passion overtakes him.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

When he finally got you pregnant with your first child he was terrified. He, like you, thought that when you conceived it would make him more deliriously happy than he had ever been, but a sense of dread almost immediately overcame him when he thought about how he was going to protect you as you grew his child in your belly. He retreated so fast you thought you had done something for him to hate you, or that the sight of your changing body had disgusted him. You were a sobbing mess for a week, causing the maesters to worry for your condition and the stress on the baby. It was only when one of your most loyal handmaidens searched out the Prince herself and explained your state, did he run as fast as he could to you. Barrelling passed the double guard he’d had at your doors since you announced to find you curled up in bed, face pressed into one of the last shirts he had worn to bed with you that still held some semblance of his scent. The noise sent you bolt upright, blinking back tears as you stared into the eye of your husband. His nostrils flaring as he berated himself internally for your current state. He slowly made his way towards you, kneeling on the bed gently as though you’d fly away if he moved faster, he surrounded you, taking you into his arms and holding you to his chest. The sobs you let out as you curled around him almost broke his heart in two, his eye welling up. After he explained why he had distanced himself from you he vowed to himself never to let you too far from him again – even if he thought it for the best it was not.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Oh we know.

The first time you were intimate with him on your wedding night you barely saw his cock; he was between your legs and covering you almost as soon as he had stripped himself of his clothes. Your first time close and intimate, which you were grateful for as you were shy yourself. Slowly though, as you lay together more, you discovered how truly beautiful he was all over. Your mother had, on the one occasion she discussed what married women are for, told you of what men had between their legs. She didn’t seem all that impressed herself and described it more like an overripe fruit that what his looked like. It was almost pretty, just like the rest of him. Flushed from the tip, a rosy pink colour much like the roses that grew in the gardens – you thought. Pale skin was un-marred and surrounded by fine silvery hairs. Even when soft, as you’d seen many times when he’d risen from a bath or laying together in the morning he was perfect.

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

Initially Aemond had trained his sex drive to be nearly non-existent. But after three moons had passed Aemond could not imagine not having you nearly every night. He could control himself well when in public, but if you found yourselves in a darkened corridor on the way back from a fest he could quite easily push you into a corner and have you right there; and then again when you did finally make it back to your rooms, tearing the stiff dress from your shoulders and kissing every inch of skin bared to him. He could be a very jealous man if you danced with the wrong lord.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

After your first night together, he didn’t want to go to sleep. You both lay next to one another, basking in each other’s eyes as you rolled to face each other. You were the first one to close your eyes, slipping closed with a small smile on your face as Aemond brushed a curl from your forehead. He curled an arm over your head, bringing you closer to his chest. He wanted to stay awake longer, wanted to watch your serene features as you slept. But exhaustion caught up to the exhilaration of the evenings activities. Aemonds eyes fluttered shut only five or so minutes after yours. Long lashes splaying across his high cheekbones and an uncharacteristically easy sigh leaving his throat.

[fictionismyreality3]

Sharing is Caring (18+)

Kinktober fic #1

Warnings: 🚨SMUT WEEWOO WEEWOO🚨

Notes: I’ve been so tired n busy lately this is all I could whip up, babes 🤷🏻‍♀️, also I would totally let them run a trai-

“C’mon, L.T. Let me ‘ave a turn with ‘er.” Soap pleaded.

The air in the room was thick, hot and heavy with the smell of your dripping pussy and the musk and sweat of the 4 men who were each pounding the brains out of your head.

When Simon had first suggested opening your relationship to other people, you were a little hesitant. Before Simon, most of your sexual experience had been mediocre quickies with guys in college, and you weren’t exactly eager to the idea of dealing with teaching another guy what you liked all over again.

But he had been so reassuring, coaxing you with enticing promises and a night of him making you explode all over his tongue. And that’s how you found yourself stuck between two muscled men, getting your holes stuffed while the others watched.

“That’s it, good girl.” Simon hissed lowly in your ear, his cock barreling into you.

Your mouth hung open, eyes half-lidded and glossy as you gazed back over your shoulder, your eyes catching on the wet, sticky sweetness coating his lower abs. You almost wanted to lick it.

Someone was grabbing your face, pulling your attention back over to the cock in front of you. “Open up, baby. Give me that mouth.” Gaz groaning was all the warning you got before his dick was pushed past your lips, your cheeks hollowing automatically as you gagged around his length.

Soft, squelching sounds were coming from beside you, making you vaguely aware of the more boisterous man Simon introduced you to. Trying to look over, you caught a glimpse of him fucking into his own hand before your head was force back straight.

“Dumb fuckin’ baby, keep your eyes on me.” Heat surged through your belly, Gaz pressing his hips forward as your nose met his pubic bone. “Oh, fuck, pretty g-girl-” Your throat and pussy clenched at the same time, Simon’s hips stuttering slightly, his cock dragging out of you and teasing that delicious spot inside you. One hand was reaching down, rubbing your clit, and you locked eyes with Price.

“Look at you.” He crooned, rubbing his cock on your soft, plush thigh. “Fucking wrecked, aren’t ya?” You nodded, groaning around Gaz’s cock.

The bed creaked under the 5 of you, Soap coming to bully Gaz out of the way, replacing the Brit’s cock with his own. The girth of him was a sudden change from how long Gaz had been, and you choked, eyes tearing up as you hit weakly against his leg.

“Be fuckin’ gentle, Johnny.” Simon snarled possessively.

“Sorry, L.T, she’s so-” His cock hit the back of your throat. “She’s so fucking perfect.”

A large, calloused hand grabbed one of your own, and you mewled as Price wrapped your hand around his thick cock, enjoying the tortured groan he let out. You felt stupid for ever questioning Simon, remembering how tentatively you accepted the idea. But now?

Now, you could get used to this.

(Idk might continue might not, kinda meh)

[seafoamsol]

The best years of my life...

... what I wouldn't give to have them back.

I had the great pleasure of working with @spiderscribe on a DeadCeptor work for the @tf-bigbang, which you can (and should!) read [ HERE ]!

Details and artist commentary under the cut!

Okay, first off, I just wanna say, thank you so much to @spiderscribe for picking up my very loose scribble and taking the jump. She's an absolute champ, and I IMPLORE you to read her writing. She did a knockout job on the fic, and guaranteed, these two pieces wouldn't have been so elaborate without her. If you're a fan of deadceptor, parallels, lovers to enemies to apocalyptic teammates to ???s, I'm sure you'll find that and more in there.

[ HERE ] is the link to that, if you missed it the first time around.

The background for the supermarket was a MASSIVE undertaking. I ended up blurring it in the final to keep the dream-like quality, but there is a lot happening there! Most of the time I spent on the background was (jokingly) complaining though.

Anyone who works retail will know the agony of customer-misplaced stock. The little canisters of energon additives seem like prime candidates to be placed willy-nilly.

The little warning sign... My favorite soda, apple sidra, has a carcinogen warning, so I'm familiar with it. It was slightly surprising to me that those warnings are not countrywide, despite the fact that they very clearly say "California Proposition 65", and well. Not something else, like "Federal" or whatever.

The bags of nuts and bolts below, I asked several people what flavor they would be, and I suppose I failed in my job, because I wanted the purple to be the "regular" flavor, and the green to be the "sour". But grape and lemon-lime work as well!

The tub is full of rust-sticks. I have no idea if that came across. My friends kept calling the individually wrapped ones slim jims, which I mean, I guess!

The car batteries... My idea was that they were similar to shots, in a way? So that's how I ended up with a battery with enough terminals to rival an international airport. It's also sunset-coloured, because, I don't know, that's what Party Flavor is to me.

Okay. The second illustration. This one was a headache, mostly due to my own lack of planning, and the fact that I lost the file for... basically everything I did, including the above illustration. So it was a bit of a rush job.

The background bots started off as these very vague silhouettes, which I'm a little proud of. Look at how nice and somewhat readable they are! Okay, now what if I ruined it? What? You don't like that? That's rather unfortunate, because that's what I proceeded to do. In fact, if I take off all.. 10 or something adjustment layers, they look like this:

My process went: Shadow block> Fill rest of form> Color randomiser> Copy and skew (to populate background)> Hue adjustment> Gradient map> Fill Light> Chromatic aberration> Vignette> Levels> Curves.

The.... Magenta cube is there because due to the nature of the color randomiser, the foot had a high value, and stuck out like nobody's business in the end.

Here's what it would look like without the cube. Begone, distracting white blob! (I didn't have to worry about the lava arm because Percy happened to cover it up. What a save! But if he didn't then... there would have been a second cube.)

Basically, it was a mess. But... at least it came out fine in the end! I hope!

I'd love to have speedpaints on hand, but I was switching between CSP and PS for a good majority of the work.

I'd say that's it for these two pieces! I actually have more, but those demand more time. I'm much slower at doing inks than I am at painting, but I hope you'll get to see them soon.

[evansbby]

𝑻𝒘𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒅 (𝑾𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝑮𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝑫𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆)

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: mean jock!Ari Levinson x naive!Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+, smut, mean Ari, condescending Ari, seriously he babies her so much in this, manipulative Ari, in fact just wg!Ari bc y'all know he's a warning in himself, daddy kink, oral (m receiving), cheating, lying, adultery, kind of public sex, sugar daddy vibes, dirty talk.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You skip class to attend Ari's basketball practice because he finally wants to hang out with you.

𝐀/𝐍: This is a drabble that takes place before the events of Wicked Games. You don't have to read that fic to understand this drabble! Enjoy! And shoutout to this anon for the idea for this drabble!

“Ari, you were so great!!!”

You can’t contain your excitement. You’ve spent the better part of the past hour sitting front row and watching Ari dominate during basketball practice. In fact, you’re so excited that you forget yourself, jumping into him and throwing your arms around his neck to give him the biggest hug. It doesn’t help that you’re genuinely so excited to see him. You haven’t spoken to him for an entire week and a half. But Ari had told you that he was going through the process of breaking up with Sharon, and that he needed some alone time to do that. He’d told you he’d contact you when he needed you, and that just so happened to be today! And of course, you’d jumped at the opportunity to see him play.

“Baby, relax,” Ari chuckles, not quite hugging you back. He looks around to see if anyone has seen you embrace him. The court was slowly emptying out, but a few people are still milling around, and so he simply pats your back before gently peeling you off of him, “I know you’re excited to see me but we gotta wait till we’re alone, don’t we?”

You pout, “I know, I know. But I thought you’d broken up with Sharon by now like how you said you would.”

Ari pauses before he shoots you his winning smile, chucking you under your chin like you’re a baby or something. “I have broken up with her, beautiful. But you don’t worry your little head about that, alright?”

“But–”

“No buts, baby. Let daddy handle his business, okay?” He grabs your shoulders and turns you around, patting your ass condescendingly, “In fact, why don’t you go sit in the bleachers and wait till I call you over?”

You frown, a part of you not appreciating how he’s lowkey dismissing you. “But I skipped class to be here for you, Ari. Just like you told me to.”

“I know that. And I’ll show you how appreciative I am for that later. But right now, there’s still people around, and we gotta lay low for a while, okay? You know daddy only wants what’s best for us.”

You’re about to open your mouth to argue some more, but when he squeezes your hip reassuringly, all your thoughts melt away. Oh, he was just so dreamy! You loved how in control he was, how he walked around like he owned everything and everyone. How he controlled you with such charm and ease. He really was just so manly and perfect! And things would be even more perfect once he made you his new girlfriend. Which would probably be any day now.

You sit in the bleachers and watch him talk to his teammates. A few cheerleaders are milling about – probably friends of Sharon, which was definitely why Ari didn’t want to be seen with you. It was understandable, but Ari had told you that him and Sharon had been having problems for a while now. He’d told you that they fought a lot and he didn’t want to be with her anymore, and vice-versa. He’d also told you that you were a baby and you didn’t have to worry about his relationship problems because babies like you couldn’t handle stuff like that and it was better if you just didn’t think at all.

So, that’s what you do. You try not to think. Sometimes, it’s easier that way.

After around fifteen minutes, the last person leaves the indoor court, and Ari closes and locks the door behind him, a mischievous grin on his face. You vaguely wonder why he has the key to the sports hall and who exactly put him in charge of locking up, but think better of bringing it up with him. Ari never really answered any of your questions properly anyways, and he also had a way of making you forget you’d even asked them in the first place.

“Hey, cutie,” he easily picks you up off the bench and into his arms, your tiny pink skirt riding upwards but he doesn’t care. In fact, he cups your butt cheeks lewdly, giving them a squeeze as he carries you down the steps towards the front benches, “I love your little outfit.”

You want to be mad at him for making you wait an extra fifteen minutes while he had ignored you, but your insides turn to mush at his compliment. You’d chosen your outfit especially for him, of course. Early on in your “relationship,” Ari had made it clear how he’d wanted you to dress for him. In cute, girly clothes – always revealing so he’d have something to look at while he played. And always short, so he’d have easy access once he had you all to himself.

And you loved dressing up for him. Today, you’d worn a cute light pink miniskirt and a white tank top with matching pink lacy trim. You’d gotten a few looks from the other guys on the basketball team – namely Curtis, who had even winked at you! But all of them paled in comparison to Ari – he was the biggest and sexiest and hottest man you’d ever known. And you were so glad that your outfit had impressed him.

“Thank you, I wore it just for you,” You beam up at him, winding your arms around his neck again to be as close to him as possible as he smirks and sits down on the bench, with you in his lap. “Although it’s not very nice how you ignored me the whole time I was here!”

“Aww, you’re such a little baby, aren’t you?” Ari coos, doing that thing where he starts babying you to the extreme. He even reaches up to pull your cheek condescendingly. “Little baby skipped her class to see me, huh?”

“Uh huh!”

“Well, you have my full attention now, sweetheart,” He fingers the material of your skirt, pushing it up even more to get a better look at your bare legs. “And of course I know you wore this for me, you always wear your slutty little outfits to impress me. I find it very cute, actually.”

He kisses the top of your nose while you squirm, embarrassed at how obvious your attempts at winning his favour are. It’s just, you can’t help it! He’s the hottest, most popular senior on campus and for some reason, he’s interested in plain, simple little you! You feel like you’re living in a fairytale sometimes.

You open your mouth to say something, but soon grow distracted by Ari as he slips the straps of your top down your shoulders. Then he dips his finger into your cleavage before tugging your top down. He licks his lips when your lacy pink bra is exposed, cupping your tits through the material and squeezing. Hard. It makes you wince, but you know better than to stop Ari while he’s fondling you. You’ve learnt that he likes to take his time with your body, exploring, kissing, caressing and touching each crevice. He especially loves your ass, and recently he’s been quite into your tits too.

Just the other night, he’d made you give him a strip tease. He’d sat on the edge of your bed, a can of beer in his hand from whatever party he’d stumbled out of before making his way to your dorm room in the early hours of the morning. “Strip for daddy, and maybe I’ll give you a reward,” he’d said, watching with dark, expectant eyes as you’d shyly slipped your PJ top off. “Slower, baby,” he’d commanded, before grabbing the front of your bra and yanking you into him with such force that your pretty bra had snapped completely, and your tits had spilled out. Immediately, he’d latched on to your nipple, sucking, nipping and biting for what seemed like hours. He’d even poured his beer all over your breasts, licking it off while he made you hump his thigh and cum over and over again till you’d cried like a little baby from the overstimulation.

Now, the memory makes you shiver as you watch Ari play with your tits, a look of unabashed lust on his face. Shyly, you bring your fingers up to card through his thick hair, smiling when he slightly leans into your touch.

“Are we gonna go back to your room tonight, Ari?” You ask him innocently, twirling a piece of his hair round your finger.

“Nah, I have somewhere to be later, baby. You know how it is.”

Your heart sinks and you pout, hoping he’d see your disappointment but he’s too busy fondling your body to notice. You’d never been to Ari’s room before – he’d told you never to go there. That if he wanted to see you, he’d call or text you himself. The furthest you’d gotten to was the inside of Ari’s car in the dead of the night when the roads were all empty. Apart from that, he always just came to your dorm room. In fact, you’d given him a spare key to make it easier for him to come and go as he pleased, hoping this would show him how serious you were about him.

Suddenly annoyed that he was going to ditch you tonight to go somewhere else, you untangle yourself from him and jump off his lap, a glimmer in your eye.

“I wanna play basketball!” You say, voice all sweet and twinkly. It wasn’t often that you ever got to tease him, and even rarer when you succeeded. But that didn’t mean you’d stop trying.

Ari looks unamused, “Get back on my lap.”

“No, I think I’m gonna play some basketball.” You muse, skipping away from him and hoping he chases you. You grab a basketball from nearby and dribble it gently, not wanting to ruin your nails, “Come play, daddy.”

Teasing Ari always went one of two ways. Often, he just wouldn’t have it, telling you that babies like you weren’t meant to tease, that you didn’t know how. He’d shut down your teasing instantly, telling you that he was the one who’d taught you everything you knew about sex and therefore he’d always be two steps ahead of you. Either that, or he’d just lose his patience and fuck you hard just to show you that you could never tease your daddy, that he’d always be in control.

But sometimes… Oh, sometimes he’d play along.

Now, he stands up to his full height (six foot six and a half, last time he’d let you measure him), and in two easy strides he’s on the shiny court floor next to you. You smile cutely up at him, dribbling the ball in front of his face. But a mere second later, he snatches it away from you before you’ve even realised what’s happened. Smirking, he spins it around on the tip of his pointer finger with ease, looking down at you cockily.

“You wanna play, huh? Fine. Let’s play.”

What follows is insanity. You’d thought he’d go easy on you, but he does the exact opposite. “Try and steal the ball from me,” he challenges, dribbling circles around you while you try to grab it from him. But you’re way too slow, and too small. Easily, he switches hands while dribbling, or he holds the ball over your head, making you jump for it. At one point, you do manage to get hold of the ball, but he slaps it out of your grasp so easily it’s laughable. Except the only one laughing is him, while you shoot him a sour look.

Your plan had been to be lithe and fast, trying to look sexy on the court as you dodged him each time he tried to grab you. But Ari’s got you all sweaty and bothered, running around the court and trying to catch up with him as if it’s a basketball bootcamp or something.

“C’mon, Miss ‘I wanna play basketball,’ try and shoot a basket,” Ari taunts you as if you’re one of his real-life opponents, throwing the ball at you not-so-lightly. You breathe hard and scowl at him before taking aim and doing your best imitation of a jump shot. But Ari, being the giant that he is, easily slaps the ball away before it even touches the rim of the basket. He doubles over in laughter, “Wow, princess. You really suck.”

“Don’t be mean!” You complain, trying to shoot again. “It’s ‘cause you’re in the way, you big giant! Move so I can see where I’m shooting!”

Ari rolls his eyes, not budging an inch, “It’s called guarding, genius.”

“I don’t care what it’s called! It’s not fair if I can’t see the basket!”

He shrugs, moving to the side. You smile, take aim and shoot. But of course, he easily swats the ball aside again, using his other hand to stifle his yawn while you gape at him.

Then, he decides it’s time to teach you how to do a layup shot, “Just take three running steps and jump to shoot.”

“Okay, Ari, thanks for the pointer!”

You take a deep breath, preparing to do just that. Except he shoves you the moment you start running. But even a light shove from someone as big as Ari has enough force that you fall over, ending up in a sorry heap on the shiny court floor, a dismayed look on your face as you stare at your broken nail.

Ari doubles over in laughter, as if he’s just performed the practical joke of the century. You pout, staring sadly at your poor nail. You’d just gotten this set done less than a week ago in anticipation that he’d notice and say something! You can’t help it when your lower lip juts outward even more, your eyes welling with tears.

“Aww, come on, don’t be such a baby,” Ari crouches down next to you, patting your head condescendingly, “It’s not my fault girls suck at basketball.”

“You’re a big fat cheater and a meanie!”

“And you’re the cutest little cry-baby,” he chuckles, pulling your cheek while you glare at him through your tears. Oh, why did he have to look so handsome, even with that cocky, shit-eating grin on his face? He wipes your tears with his thumb, amusement shining through his eyes, “See, that’s what happens when you try and act like a tease.”

You cross your arms over your chest, “I hate you.”

“For being a better basketball player?”

“No! For cheating and for being mean and for breaking my nail!” You sniffle, “I’m a girl, Ari, you’re supposed to go easy on me!”

“I was going easy on you.”

He bursts out laughing when you shoot him another glare. But what you don’t expect is him lifting you up. Easily, as if you’re as light as a feather, he hoists you on top of his shoulders. Fearfully, you hang on tight for dear life as he stands up to his full height, handing you the basketball in the process.

“Fine, if the baby wants special treatment, I guess that’s what you’ll get,” he says, walking over to the hoop till you’re face to face with it. “C’mon, baby. Shoot your shot. If you miss from up there, then I’ll have no faith left in you.”

Smiling through the remnants of your tears, you finally score a basket, letting out a delighted little yelp despite the fact that you’ve literally been hoisted up to eye level with the hoop. “I did it! I scored a point!”

Ari gently puts you down on your feet, before thinking better of it and hoisting you up again. This time, you wrap your legs around his waist while his hands rest firmly on your ass.

“You did,” he says softly, “You scored a point. Well done, baby.”

He kisses you, and the gentleness of it catches you by surprise. But it only lasts a second or two before he grows impatient. Then, his kisses grow more ravenous, biting at your lips and pushing his tongue past them. But even when it’s all fast and rugged, his kisses are still the best, they still make your head spin in the best way possible, make you want to make out with him forever if he’d let you.

He takes you back over to the benches, back to how you two were before the impromptu basketball match. But this time, he quickly slips your top off, till you’re straddling him in just your pink lacy bra and your tiny little skirt.

“You broke my nail, by the way,” you point out when he takes your hand and presses it against his hard crotch.

“Mm?” Surprisingly, Ari tears himself away from kissing and fondling you to take a look at your broken nail and scoff, “Just glue it back on or whatever.”

“That’s not how it works, Ari!”

He rolls his eyes, before getting his phone out of his pocket. You watch as he types away, not too sure what he’s doing. But you don’t have to wonder for long, when a second later, your own phone pings with a notification.

A. Levinson transferred $400 to your bank account.

“Oh my gosh, Ari! You shouldn’t have!” You squeal happily, inadvertently bouncing up and down in his lap and making him grunt and press his boner up against your butt. You hug him tightly, maybe deliberately pressing your chest against him. “Seriously, nails don’t cost this much to get done.”

He shrugs, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, “Then go buy yourself something nice with whatever’s left.”

You definitely would! Oh, you loved how he took care of you! This wasn’t the first time Ari had sent you money casually on a whim. It’s how you’d found out that he was loaded – or his parents were. Like in the three weeks that you’d been hooking up with him, he’d surprised you with multiple gifts and gestures. Once he’d had a box of very expensive lingerie delivered to your room along with an intricate bouquet of pink roses. The lingerie had been pink too, and you loved how he knew it was your favourite colour.

He was also always calling you Ubers, and ordering food for you, and sending you exorbitant amounts of money whenever you mentioned having to get the bus to go into town or something normal like that. Once, you’d said you were going shopping with Wanda, and Ari had told you to take his credit card with you. You’d declined, obviously, but it made you giddy knowing how well you’d be taken care of once he made you his official girlfriend.

“Thank you, daddy,” you say sweetly. Feeling slightly devilish now, you get off his lap and sink down to your knees in front of him. Ari shoots you a cocky look, pressing the top of your head down as he pushes your hand past the waistband of his sweats. You lick your lips when your fingers encircle around his thick cock, pulling it out right there in the middle of the court.

You’d never given a blowjob before Ari, and he’d made sure to teach you how to do it to his exact liking. Now, he holds your hair out of the way so he can see your face as he shoves his dick past your lips. He always warned you that you had to maintain eye contact while you sucked his dick, that all good babies looked their daddy straight in the eye when getting their throat fucked. And you feel him get even harder, the act of stuffing his huge cock down your tiny throat making him hornier than ever.

“Good girl,” Ari breathes, petting your head condescendingly, “Such a good little girl for daddy. You take my cock so well, don’t you? Like your lips were made for sucking cock, fuck!”

You try to take him as deep as you possibly can, but he’s way too big and girthy for you to deep-throat him all the way. The first time you’d tried, you’d ended up gagging and crying and Ari had laughed at you and called you a baby and told you that you had to learn to be a better cocksucker if you wanted to keep him happy. You’d promised that you’d try, and he’d been all too happy to teach you, using those “lessons” as an excuse to get you on your knees in front of him as many times as he wanted.

Not that he ever needed an excuse. He knew as well as you did that Ari Levinson owned your body.

“You’re such a slutty little girl, sucking your daddy’s cock in the middle of the basketball court,” Ari whispers, his voice so gravelly yet velvety smooth at the same time, turning you on down to your core. “Is this why you were so desperate to see me, baby? You wanted my cock that badly, huh?”

He pulls your head back, and you gasp for breath before nodding desperately, “Y-Yeah, I think about you all the time!”

Ari smirks, “I know you do. You’re fucking obsessed with me, aren’t you?” He yanks your hair, making you nod your head up and down with your mouth stuffed with his cock once more. “And you look so fucking cute, baby. On your knees for your daddy like the obedient little girl you are.”

He thrusts into your mouth hard as fast, effectively fucking your face ruthlessly. He often got like that, rough and hard and rugged. He was just so strong, and you guessed that sometimes he just didn’t know his own strength. Like now, as he bobs your head up and down roughly on his thick length, like an iron rod jamming in and out of your mouth at top speed, getting your face all messy in the process – which he also loved.

From your peripheral, you see Ari’s phone vibrate and glow from where he’s kept it right next to him on the bench. And you don’t mean to invade his privacy, but it’s close enough that you can just about make out the text that appears on his screen.

Curtis: You still with your little fangirl? 😂😂😂

You pull off Ari’s dick with a pop, quickly wiping your mouth and frowning up at him.

“Fangirl?!”

Ari grabs his phone and reads the text quickly before setting it down again and smirking. He rubs your cheek softly while pumping his dick casually with his other hand.

“Classic Curtis. He probably meant to send that to Colin. You know Colin Shea, right baby? He and his band had a gig tonight, and he has literal fangirls who come watch his every show. That’s what Curtis was referring to.”

Oh. That made sense. Didn’t it?

You smile up at Ari sheepishly, “S-Sorry, I didn’t mean to jump to conclusions.”

He doesn’t grace you with an answer, instead yanking you up by the hair till you’re on your feet once more, standing between his legs while he looks at you and pumps his dick. Pulling you into his lap, his hands immediately go to your butt, kneading it and squeezing it like it’s a toy. You can feel his dick, hot and heavy and twitching against your stomach, and it makes you want to press your thighs together.

Ari seems to get the message, finally pushing his hand between your legs to give your poor, neglected pussy some attention.

“She missed me, huh?” Ari grins wolfishly, his fingers gliding up your soaking slit before he pinches your clit meanly. “Tell me how your little baby pussy missed her daddy.”

“Sh-She missed you!” You garble, playing along with his dirty talk as you rock against his hand, wanting him to push his fingers inside you, or rub you or do something to make you feel good too. You haven’t felt his expert touch in more than a week, and your body is desperate for the relief that only Ari Levinson could give you.

Instead, he grabs your hips, lifting you and lining your cunt up on top of his hard dick. Oh, he was going to fuck you! Right here in the bleachers of the basketball court! Thrill ripples through you at the thought of doing something so naughty, although you’re happy that he’d locked the doors and no one was able to come inside.

“How bad do you want my daddy dick?” He breathes, looking all casual as if he’s not as feral for you as you are for him. You envy how well he hides his desperation, how in control he always is. You wish you were like that, but sex was so new and exciting to you. He’d made you obsessed with his cock, he’d made you want him all the time, and you had zero patience when it came to fucking him and getting that sweet pleasure only he could give you.

“So, so bad, Ari! Please put it in me! Please!”

“I don’t know, baby,” He pretends to think about it, the cockiest smile on his face, “Maybe I will, maybe I won’t.”

“Please do it!”

Desperately, you grab at his cock but he easily slaps your hands away and shoots you a warning look.

“Beg me some more,” he orders you while pumping his dick lazily, “And I’ll think about it.”

You do. You beg him and you plead him. With Ari, your self-respect and dignity sometimes went out the window and you didn’t even care. When he’s got you all submissive and desperate, you’d do absolutely anything he asked of you. He’s got you right under his thumb and he knows it, and all you can do is cry like a baby, and whine for his cock. Tell him how badly you want it, how you’ve been craving him and missing him all week. How you always think about him, how you miss how full he made you feel the last time he fucked you. How he made you see stars behind your eyes with how skilled of a lover he was.

Ari smirks, praising you for being such a desperate little slut for him, and he’s about to sink you down on his dick when his phone starts vibrating again. This time, you don’t see the name that flashes on the screen, but you pout in dismay when he answers the call.

“Hey. Yeah, I’m with Curtis.”

You frown. Who was he talking to? One of his other friends?

“Tonight? Really?” Ari frowns, listening to whoever’s talking on the other end, “Yeah, that’s cool.”

He grunts, “Okay, I’ll be there when I’ll be there. I’m busy right now. Bye.”

He hangs up before focusing his attention back on you.

“Wh-Who was that, Ari?”

“No one.”

You bite your lip, “Was it Sharon? I thought you said you broke up with her?”

“We’re practically broken up,” he says vaguely before he starts kissing your neck. “You done asking questions?”

“I just think that– AH! OH FUCK!”

In one quick motion, Ari slams you down on his cock. Hard. You scream and grip on to his muscular biceps tightly, and he doesn’t give you even one second to adjust or catch your breath before he starts bouncing you up and down.

“Little girls like you aren’t meant to ask their daddies dumb questions,” he whispers silkily in your ear, forever casual and unperturbed as he fucks you hard, “So now the only think I want to hear coming out of your mouth is my name, got that?”

“Ngh, fuck! Y-Yes, daddy!”

“That’s my good little girl.”

AHHHH omg, first wicked games drabble done!! Poor reader, she has no idea the rollercoaster she's in for. I had forgotten how innocent and naive she was until I reread WG1 a few days ago, and that's why she's so innocent here! Ari really goes on to do a number on her lmfaooo (and Steve too). BUT ANYWAYS. Do let me know what you thought! Reblogs, comments, asks with feedback are all SOOOO welcome! This is around 4k words btw but I wrote it fairly quickly in a few hours! TYSM K I SHALL STOP YAPPING NOW BYE.