#and i still like some of this stuff so i've been scanning it and putting it together

[maturiin]

i saw that angel in a church in teguise

[jasmines-library]

Hey, I love your Batfam work! Is there any chance you could do a whump/angst one of batsis being kidnapped by a villian(you can choose whoever you want) and she’s tortured for days with it being broadcasted to the Batfam while they try to track the footage. I feel kinda bad but can you do maybe some head trauma md severe burns? Maybe she has to be put in a medically included coma or smth because of the damage? Also is there any way you could include Barb and Duke along w/ the four robins? If not that’s totally cool! Sorry for the long request but I hope you have a great day!!

Anonymous Requested: batfam x batsib reader whos the youngest and newest robin and is just really goofy and doesn’t take anything seriously (ex: them blaring “who’s the (bat)man” on the comms during patrol [that songs stuck in my head i had to mention it]) and something happens, maybe their first close encounter to death or a run in with the joker and they just become a shell of who they were and stuff

Jokes On Me

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Note: My god im so sorry this literally took me forever to write, thank you so much for being patient. I've been trying to write this all week but just couldn't sit down for long enough to finish it.

Warnings: Torture, blood, burns.

Word Count: 2.5k

⛧ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛧

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

“Y/N, turn that shit off.”

Jason grumbled at you over the coms. You had been blasting some wretched song that you’d found on the internet over and over again and it was beginning to drive him mad. 

“Nope.” You said, popping the ‘p’ loudly. 

“Seriously.” Dick deadpanned. He had found it amusing at first, but it was now beginning to test his patience. 

Agitated, you sighed and turned off the music. “Fine.”

“Thank you.” Jason expressed gratefully, turning his eyes back to the road he was patrolling. The night was cool and quiet besides the odd dog walker or couple returning from an evening out. It was one of those nights where patrol would end early and he could return home to take a warm bath and read a book before turning in for the night. Or so he thought. 

You were rounding the corner, humming that tune that was still stuck in your head when his laughter ricocheted across the walls. You stiffened, eyes widening and hands fumbling for your weapon as your breath hitched. No amount of turning and craning your head allowed you to catch a glimpse of the dreaded figure, and you thought for a moment that perhaps it had just been a trick of your mind, or one of your brothers playing a cruel joke on you as payback for winding them up earlier. But then you heard it again, only this time to your left. You clutched your weapon tighter, eyes scanning the area with a new found sense of urgency. 

“Wing…” You whispered into the coms so quietly that you were surprised he heard it.

“What now?” He somewhat snapped. 

“We have a problem.”

Dick’s heart sank through the floor, his ears pricking up and his demeanour changing completely. “Where are you? What’s the matter? He was trying to let his panic show, but you hadn’t been patrolling as a vigilante for very long, and while you were well trained, you lacked the experience to deal with something big on your own. And from your tone of voice, he could tell that you were in some deep shit. 

Jason worked his legs harder to push himself to reach the direction he had seen you head off in. Albeit it seemed even his hardest wasn’t enough.

When he stepped out of the darkness, the first thing you noticed were his eyes. Wide and bright, easily mistakable for a cat’s as they flashed in the darkness; wild. Rabid. As he emerged fully with that infamous twisted grin splayed out on his face, you felt like a cornered animal; a deer in headlights. You froze, unable to move despite how your heart screamed at you to run as it pounded, trying to break free from your ribcage. 

“He’s here…” A mere whisper sliding over your tongue, so fragile that you weren’t even sure if you had actually said it aloud. Jason had heard it. 

“Who?” 

The Joker was circling you now, dragging out his strides in lazy circles. You should have fought but in that moment all of your training had drained out of you, along with the colour in your face. He smirked, leering down upon you as you tried to keep your trembling hand still. He pouted in mockery and at your silence, Jason repeated his question to you, but you never got the chance to respond. 

“Oh…Just an old friend, Jay-bird.”

“Joker.” Urging his body to move faster, Jason grit his teeth. 

Dick paled. “You leave them alone.” Dick spat. It tried to be a command, but the effect was lost somewhere in transmission.

The joker pursed his lips, tilting his head as he analysed. One of his hands had found his way to your jawline and he trailed it with a cold, gloved hand. You wanted to lean away, to run and find your brother but you knew that now he had you in his grasp there was no point in even trying. “And why would I do that? They’re right in front of me. I could just…snatch them up.”

“Don’t you dare!” Dick was frightened now. “Y/N, you stay there as long as you can, okay? You fight. We’re coming, you hear?”

The Joker frowned at you. “D’you hear that? Big brother birdy coming to the rescue. How sweet.”

His grip on you tightened. “Too bad you’ll be long gone by the time they get here.”

With one swift motion, he had thrown you harshly to the side, your head colliding with the wall with a sickening crack. 

The two boys skidded to a halt just a second too late. You were already gone. 

~

Your head hurt when you woke up. Your eyes squinted against the sterile light. They did no favours to your pounding headache. With a groan, you tried to twist, to roll over and soothe the crook in your neck but instead all that happened was the jinging of a metal chain. You craned your head and spotted the thick chain that had been wrapped around your wrist, confining you to the chair. Struggling, you tugged on them, trying to free yourself only for them to rattle and scrape against your skin. 

“Yeah, that’s not going anywhere, birdy.” The joker chided.

You glared at him through narrowed eyes, trying to mask the thumping of your heart. The joker grinned wildly at your frightened complexion. 

“It was such a shame that Grayson and Todd didn’t get to you in time, but it was far too easy to catch you, little bird: you completely froze.” He snapped his fingers to emphasise his point. “Didn’t batsy teach you better?”

“Don’t talk about them.” You snapped. 

The joker raised his hands, palms facing toward you in surrender: taunting you as if you were the one with the power in the situation. “Touchy subject I see. Too bad.” 

He gestured above you to an incessantly blinking light. “Smile for the camera, you’re live.”

~

Babs had been monitoring the street cameras when the computer beside her flickered to life. She had been searching for any sign of you ever since Dick and Jason came flying through the grandfather clock. Everyone was on edge. 

The moment the screen flashed on, her eyes perked up to watch it, alarmed. She hadn’t turned it on. And there were very few people who could bypass the caves system. So when she saw a small frame curled up in a chair she knew immediately what was up. 

“Duke…” she called to the dark haired boy who was trying to help decipher your whereabouts. “Go and get B.” 

It did not take long at all for everyone to gather around in the cave. Duke was fast, and everyone dropped what they were doing to race down: even Alfred had taken his leave from his duties to see. 

It was almost like some sick irony because as soon as they were all there, you began to scream. A guttering, perfect scream that cut that through them like a knife: unclean and pinging into them messily again and again. 

The joker had taken a knife to your left thigh, his smile dripping with malice as he watched the camera, somehow knowing that at least one of them would be watching. 

Your face was contorted in pain, twisting in agony as tears rolled flatly down your cheeks from fearful eyes. Damian felt sick, his stomach churning. Jason wanted to leave. But all of them were stuck watching. Barbra was tapping away, trying to locate the signal from the video to no avail. 

“I hope you’re watching this Batsy…” He moved round to trail your face with the edge of the knife. You whimpered. “I’ve got your little bird here and I must say, you need to work on their training. They were far too easy to catch.”

Bruce felt his jaw tightening and Tim had to place a hand on his arm to remind him of his place. 

“Anyway I thought we would play a little game… how long can little y/n survive for. I wonder if it’ll be any longer than our very own Jason Todd.”

Jason twitched. 

“I’m testing you here, Bat. Tick Tock.”

The transmission cut to black. 

~

It seemed hopeless. Even though they had been searching for days, they were no closer to finding you. And to make matters worse, they could see you. Not long after the first transition ended did it start up again. It had been lifestreaming since then, and although they had tried to block it from their minds, it was hard to ignore. Especially when your agonised screams ricocheted throughout the halls. 

You looked like hell. Dark bags occluded under your eyes and there wasn’t an inch of your skin that wasn’t marred or stained with drying blood. The burns were worse. Damian could still hear the scream you let out when the joker first brought the hot poker to your skin. It had bubbled and blistered as the skin peeled away; you had thrashed against your restraints violently. Tim was certain that they were going to get infected if they didn’t reach you soon. 

It felt as if they had searched everywhere. Dick and Jason had even asked around to see if anyone had heard anything, going as far to talk to the Jokers closest associates in Arkham, but even if they did know, nobody said anything. Duke had even gone as far to go back to the area to use his powers to see if he could trace anything, but nothing seemed out of place; they had hit a brick wall. That was…until a small light appeared on the monitor. Babs had managed to trace the signal to a small building on the outskirts of the city. 

They were suited up in minutes, making a beeline for the building. They stormed it, recklessly taking down the Joker's goons before Batman chased wildly after the Joker, his face stony and his fists burning with anger. The other four boys chased down the winding corridors, flinging open the doors until they found one that was locked. Tim wasted no time, picking the lock with ease he peeled it open. His breath hitched when he saw you. 

Your face was gaunt, hanging low by your chest. Your suit was torn and there was less of it on your body than there was ripped away. You looked so fragile as your chest heaved sporadically. 

Jason nearly had to take a step back. This place reminded himself too much of his own encounter with the Joker not too long ago. But he pressed forward, fighting his instincts. He had to be strong. Instead of turning back, he kneeled in front of you, whispering your name. His hand came up to cup your face. You flinched away. 

“It’s okay kid. It’s us.” He tried to reassure you, but you shrank back into yourself. 

“We’re so, so sorry kiddo.” Dick tried placing a gentle hand on your arm before moving to work on the cuffs around your wrists. “We’re going to get you out.”

You said nothing, just continued to stare at the black space before you, and Dami wasn’t sure if you even knew they were in front of you. But when Jason moved away from you to help remove your restraints, your fingers latched onto him and you squeaked in protest. 

He sighed shakily. “Don’t worry kid. I’m not going anywhere.”

Damian twisted from where he was guarding the door. “We need to leave.”

Dick nodded bluntly, finishing with the last of the locks. “I’m going to have to pick you up, okay sweetheart?”

You barely registered what he had said. Everything had grown numb, you nodded anyhow. Moving his arms underneath your legs and slipping one arm behind your back, Jason began to lift you. He nearly recoiled when you cried and whimpered with the way your wounds jostled as he sprinted out of the building to get you back to safety. 

~

You were yet to say anything since you came home. You had been back a few days and your wounds were healing up nicely thanks to Alfred’s handywork, but the air was eerily silent around you. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t been communicating with them; you spoke to them with gestures or writing but no one was used to not hearing your voice. The stark contrast between your loud and bustling personality and you now was unsettling. No one wanted to push you too far but the manor was beginning to grow lonely. 

It was one particularly rainy night when you finally spoke.  You were curled up in a large armchair by the window in the library, sinking back into the plush leather as you watched the raindrops race down the glass. Jason had been watching you from afar, contemplating whether to talk to you or not when he walked over. 

“What are you up to?” He asked you, making sure you knew that he was there before he spoke. 

You gestured toward the window,then to the half opened book at your feet and shrugged. 

“I see.” He nodded, taking a seat on the armchair opposite you. A comfortable silence settled between the two of you. Jason wasn’t much of a talker. He knew more than anyone what you were going through, which was why it was nice just to know that he was willing to sit with you, just so you knew that he was there if you needed him. It made you feel safe. But you also couldn’t help but feel guilty, and frustrated with yourself for being in a place that made him feel as though he had to do that. 

“I’m sorry.” You whispered. 

Jason had to do a second take. His heart swelled. “What for?”

You sighed. “This. When I saw him…i-i froze. If I had run then this would never have happened.”

“Shh. This isn’t your fault.”

“But-”

“I promise, Kid. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

You nodded, looking away from him. But then you furrowed your brows and turned back to him. “How did you do it? How did you deal with this, Jay? Every time I close my eyes he’s there.”

“I guess I don’t, really. Or sometimes it feels like I don’t. I still get scared sometimes. I still see him in my dreams. But over time it gets easier. I had people around me to help me. And so do you, kid. We’re here. We’ll always be here.”

Jason shifted to brush away a rogue tear and you leaned into his touch and then wrapped your arms tightly around his middle. 

“I’m here. Always. We’ll get through this together.”

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BATFAM TAGS

@aestheticdaisies @hearts4robs @xxrougefangxx @mamapucket @hell-o-kittys @harleycao @batfamsstuff @alicedawitchbish

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[iholdwhatican]

tension

part two to reunions - must read part 1 first!

pairing: art donaldson x reader x patrick zweig

length: 3.2k

author's note: this took wayyyy too long for me to do yall, i'm so sorry. these two have a tight hold on me and i'm in the trenches. i've got some good stuff lined up tho, and i'm super excited to write it heeheehee :) also smut in the future will be much longer and much more detailed, just fyi

tags: y/n is art donaldson's wife ; birthday party ; art is down bad ; patrick wants y/n ; possessive!art ; the boys are fighting ; no use of y/n ; pining ; sexual tension ; sugar mommy y/n? ; unapologetic flirting with your bff's wife at his birthday party

warnings: sexual content, p in v, not super detailed but still there!

summary: the stressful night of the birthday party continues, and you find yourself pinging between art and patrick like a tennis ball. how the hell did you get yourself into this?

originally posted by iholdwhatican

It took four minutes and 36 seconds of Art and Patrick being alone outside before the anxiety became too much. Your dress was too tight against your skin and the chatter of the guests rattled in your skull. Your mind replayed the anger on Art’s face over and over, convinced that he’d direct it at you the moment he came back in. And if you were being honest, you couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss. 

Your blood boiled with the ferocity of it, and an ache in your core begged for another taste. 

Another three minutes and 18 seconds passed while you downed half of your second glass of wine. You made conversation with a few people who caught your eye, making sure all the food and drink were up to par. Not that you really could care about that right now. Your mind was a jumble of thoughts about the two men on the balcony. 

Art, Patrick, Art, Patrick, Art, Patrick, Art, Patrick

“You look like you’re gonna puke.” 

For the second time that night, Patrick Zweig’s voice made you jump. 

You looked at him, catching sight of that damned smirk that made your stomach flip, and furrowed your brows. One quick scan of the room came up empty for your husband, forcing the anxiety in your chest to worsen. 

“Where’s Art?” You asked, not missing the way your voice wobbled slightly. 

“Relax.” Patrick responded, resting a hand on your shoulder, “He went to the kitchen, I think. I didn’t kill him. And he didn’t run for the hills either.” 

You decided not to comment on how easily he’d read your worries without you saying anything. For some reason, you were an open book to him. 

A deep sigh left you. You licked your lips anxiously- which immediately caused Patrick’s eyes to fall on your mouth. 

“What happened out there?” 

The man gave you a shrug, letting his hand fall back to his side, “Nothing, really. We just talked for a bit. He told me I could stay, as long as I stopped flirting with you.” 

“So does that mean you’re going to stop?” The idea made you slightly unhappy, which in turn filled you with guilt. Why were you so excited by his flirtations when you had a wonderful, loving husband who treated you like a queen? 

But then Patrick grinned, and you knew the answer before he said it, “Well, I’ve never been one to do what I’m told.” 

A smile grew over your lips, and you tried to hide it with an eye roll, “Why don’t you mingle? Try some food. I’m going to find my husband.” 

He didn’t miss the enunciation you put on ‘my husband’, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes darkened as you said it. You didn’t give it time to linger, instead turning away and moving towards the kitchen. 

You knew the look Patrick had in his eyes. You’d seen it a dozen times in Art’s. On the court, over a board game, in all sorts of scenarios. And every time, even now, the look sent a chill down your spine. 

That expression was clear, resolute competition. 

Just as Patrick had said, you found Art in the kitchen. With his back to you, you had a perfect view of his tense shoulders and hanging head as he poured himself a glass of water. He was all wound up, and you knew it was your fault. Now it was your responsibility to fix it. 

You stepped up behind him, sliding a hand between his shoulder blades. He didn’t hesitate to lean into the touch, a subconscious reaction. He knew it was you just by the feel of your hand on him. And, even if he might be furious, he still found comfort in it. 

“Hey…” You breathed, leaning to the side to meet his gaze. Art looked at you over his shoulder, a half-smile quirking his lips up, “How are you doing?” 

“Hey.” He responded, turning and sliding his hands over your hips. Your chest pressed against his as he leaned down and placed a kiss on your hairline. Then he just lingered there, breathing in your smell, “I honestly don’t know. I just- it was so weird to see him.” 

“Yeah, of course it was.” Your words reached him in a soft, comforting tone. The guilt of putting your perfect, doting husband in this situation was enough to make you feel like you had barbed wire around your neck. You had to pay penance- somehow. You rubbed your hand in circles over his back, “I’m sorry, sundrop. I don’t know what I was thinking when I invited him.” 

Sundrop. A nickname that went way back to the early days of your relationship. Art was an energetic puppy dog with a halo of golden curls and a smile that made your insides feel hot. He was what you pictured a personification of the sun to be, hence the pet name. He pretended not to like it, but his eyes always sparkled a certain way when you said it. 

Art pulled his head away to peer down into your eyes, his own pensive and confused, “No, baby, don’t be sorry. It was a great fucking surprise. Just… a surprise.” 

You shook your head. He was so fucking good to you, “You’re allowed to be mad at me.” 

“Mad? At you?” In one quick motion, he picked you up and set you on the counter. Your legs opened for him without hesitation, allowing him to slot right in between them, “I don’t think that’s possible.”

You fought the blush rising in your cheeks and rolled your eyes, “You think too highly of me.” 

“No. Never.” He replied instantly. He kissed your chin. Then your jaw. Then your neck. Then down your throat, “As far as I’m concerned, you’re God.” 

“Art-” You argued, though you weren’t sure what for. You tilted your neck back and offered yourself up to him. 

“I could spend my life on my knees for you and be happy.” His words were muffled as he mouthed at your neck, sending shivers down your spine. This, combined with the kiss from earlier, was making you ache with need. You were half-tempted to end the party early and take your pretty husband to bed. 

You bit your lip when he ran his tongue over a sensitive spot above your collarbone. If he wasn’t in between them, you’d be squeezing your thighs together. 

When Art pulled away, his eyes had darkened. Dilated pupils and heavy breaths told you all you needed to know. He was just as fucking horny as you were right now. His hands held your hips tighter. 

“Do you think we’d be left alone long enough for me to show you how much I mean it?” He asked. It was almost as if he were begging. As if he couldn’t bear the idea of doing anything other than dropping to his knees and devouring you. 

And God, when he looked at you like that, you had no choice but to say yes. 

Unfortunately, fate intervened, and you were kept from making a scene at your husband’s birthday party. 

“Hey, you two, quit snogging and come entertain us!” One of Art’s tennis friends called, sticking their head into the kitchen. The big grin on their face told you it was just teasing, but you still felt your face burning with embarrassment. 

“It’s my birthday, let me do what I want.” Art jeered right back, lifting you off the counter and back onto your own two feet. You laughed airily at the comment, feeling more light-headed than anything. 

Before following his friend back into the action, he whispered a quick, “Later, okay?” to you. And then he left you standing in the kitchen- touch-starved, foggy-headed, and excruciatingly aroused. 

It was then that you realized you didn’t even get to ask him what happened with Patrick.

Upon re-entering the party, you found yourself taking note of two things- or rather, two people. One, Art- conversing with some friends from the foundation with a big grin on his face. Two, Patrick- having his fill of finger foods from the refreshment table. He was alone. And though you tried to fight it, you found yourself gravitating towards him. 

“Do they not have food where you’re from?” You teased, falling into place at his side. Your gaze slid over the spread before flicking up to his face. 

You’d caught him mid-bite, and he attempted to swallow quickly and regain his composure. Something warmed slightly in your chest. Endearing. 

“Well, I’m kinda… in between places right now.” He explained, tongue stuck in his cheek to clear out residual bits of food, “And there’s never stuff as good as this.” 

You let the compliment slide away, instead focusing on his more troubling response, “Are you homeless?” 

“What? No.” He chuckled, as if the question were preposterous, “I go all over for tennis. It’s just easier to stay on the move.” 

You raised an eyebrow, “And on off-season?” 

Something in his expression darkened, only for a moment, and then he was back to cocky smiles and overwhelming confidence, “I’m too busy to care about that. And what’s it matter to you, anyway?” 

“I’d like to think I’m a good person.” You said, plucking a snack off the table and popping it into your mouth. You chewed it halfway before continuing, “And a good person worries if they think someone they care about isn’t doing well.” 

Patrick grinned at you for five long seconds. And it took him actually saying the words to realize where you’d slipped up. 

“You care about me?” 

Shit. You had not meant to say that. Why was this man so damn good at getting every little thought in your head to spill out of your mouth? 

“If caring about you means I don’t want you sleeping under a bridge somewhere, then sure.” 

“Okay, I would never let it get that far-” 

“I wanna help.” 

He blinked, “Help how?” Briefly, very briefly, you thought of your bed. Your comfortable, spacious bed, perfect for three individuals. You could picture it- you, safe and sound and nestled between the two men. Art, your lovely, obedient husband on one side, letting himself love and be loved. And Patrick on the other side, nice and cozy with a roof over his head and a full belly. 

The image flashed in an instant, and you were left with hollow, heavy guilt. You swallowed. 

“How much do you need?” 

“Huh?” You rolled your eyes at him, “How much money do you need? To keep you afloat for the next little while. And I’ll send you home tonight with leftovers.” 

Patrick let the words wash over him, slowly smiling as they did. He took a step towards you, close enough that one tiny shove would have your bodies pressed together. You could smell him, all sweat and cigarettes and woodsy cologne that made your head spin. You’d been wound up all night, and this was absolutely not helping. 

“You gonna write me a check? Use your hard-earned money to get a practical stranger a hotel for a couple nights?” He murmured, heavy on the charm, “What would your husband think?” 

He knew he’d gotten under your skin. He knew what he was doing. He was fucking enjoying this. 

You tried to hold your ground, looking up at him through your lashes, “It’s his money, actually. He makes sure I never have to work unless I want to.” 

“Guess he treats you pretty well. And look how you’re taking advantage of it.” His hand lay on the table next to yours, his fingertips nearly brushing the skin of your wrist. How bad would it be if you closed the gap? 

You bit your lip, “You’re allowed to turn me down.” 

“I don’t think I’d ever turn you down, Mrs. Donaldson.” 

Something about that title, something about the way he said it, made your blood run hot and cold at the same time. It reminded you of the myths of sirens. Beautiful monsters of the sea that used their voices to bring others to their demise. Talking to Patrick had that same type of allure, and the sense of danger. 

“Then tell me what you need.” 

“What do you think I need?” 

Oh, you could think of a few things. But you could also feel a pair of eyes on you, and you knew exactly who they belonged to. Part of you wanted to tempt him, see if you could get another reaction like out on the balcony. However, you quickly shot the idea down. Not right now, not in the middle of a crowded party.

Lips curving into an innocent smile, you pushed yourself a step back from him, “I think you need a nice place to sleep. And a few good meals. And maybe a hug.” 

The sudden switch-up took Patrick by surprise, but he handled it smoothly and responded only a beat later, “You’re offering?” 

“At least for the first two.” You didn’t know what you’d do if you were in his arms. With the way you were feeling now, with two glasses of wine in your system, your boundaries were getting blurrier and blurrier. How humiliating. 

His bottom lip jutted out into a pout. Which unfortunately dragged your gaze right down to his mouth. It took you a moment too long to meet his eyes again. 

“What, we can’t hug? Don’t you consider me a friend?” 

“I do.” You shrugged, tucking loose hair behind your ear, “Maybe I’m just not a touchy person.” 

A lie. You knew it, and you could tell by the look on his face that he knew it too.

“Yeah.” He smirked, sounding the opposite of sincere, “Art’s wife isn’t a touchy person. Sure.” 

You needed a cold shower. Or to go have some one-on-one time with your vibrator. Or maybe move to the seaside and spend your days going mad in a lighthouse. You weren’t sure. All you knew was how increasingly hot you were feeling. 

“Speaking of Art, go talk to him. Try to make amends. Meet some of his friends.” You suggested, glancing over at your husband. He wasn’t watching you anymore, at least not straight on. But he had a radar when it came to you, and he was very diligent in keeping tabs. No matter what.

“You trying to get rid of me?” Patrick asked lightly. No heat behind the words. 

“Oh, yes.” You admitted, placing your hands on his shoulders and pointing him towards Art, “Find me again before you leave and I’ll have your check.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned at you over his shoulder, sending a wink before sauntering off. 

Finally, you felt like you could actually get a breath in your lungs. 

The party had ended. Guests went home, Patrick got his check and headed to a hotel you recommended, and you and your partner left all the cleanup for the morning. You barely gave it a second glance as you went up to bed with him, your hand held tightly in his. 

Art fucked you like a starving man that night. You barely got into the room before his lips were plastered on your skin, his hands unzipping your dress with quick precision. He was usually much more reserved, but something about tonight had made him ravenous. And he wasn’t the only one.

You ended up on his lap; bare chests pressed together, skin sweaty and breaths heavy as you rolled your hips into him. His hands clutched your thighs, keeping you close, fingers pressing into the flesh. You pulled on his hair and his head immediately fell back. As if he were a puppet for you to position and use however you wanted. His eyes looked up at you with a fire in them you’d never seen before, but the adoration, the reverence, was all too familiar. 

Your name fell from his lips over and over again like a prayer. The single word weaved with threads of devotion, possessiveness, desire. A song joined in chorus by whatever nonsensical phrase entered his head. I love you, so perfect, all mine, please, please, please. 

He was claiming you. Marking his territory in his own special way. It didn’t matter that Patrick wasn’t here to see it, or that he probably would never even know. As long as Art could tell himself that you were his, he’d be okay. Jealousy was a good look on him. 

You could feel your core tighten with each and every movement of his hips against you. You weren’t going to last much longer. But by the look in your husband’s eyes, neither was he. 

Parted lips claimed yours in a messy kiss, tongue sliding into your mouth and exploring every open space. Then you were being flipped over; back pressed into the mattress as Art rocked into you with reckless abandon. He intertwined his fingers with yours and pinned your hands above your head without ever breaking the kiss. 

You lasted about thirty seconds. Finally, the tension in you snapped and your orgasm washed over you in waves, leaving you limp and trembling. Art finished only a moment later. You could feel him pulsing inside of you as the aftershocks slowly faded away. The room reeked of sweat and sex and your head was spinning. 

Art, your precious, dutiful man, rested his head on your chest as he attempted to catch his breath. You could feel the tickle of his lips kissing your skin, the soft squeeze of his hands on your hips. You ran a hand through his damp hair, fingers massaging his scalp. 

“I love you.” He murmured against your ribs, right over your thundering heart. He said it like he couldn’t quite believe he was allowed, like he didn’t believe you were here, that you were his. 

Dark hair and cigarette smoke flashed through your mind. Almost-touching hands and paper checks. 

“I love you.” You responded, kissing his hairline, “Happy Birthday, baby.” 

The only response you got was a tired, happy sound and another kiss to your collarbone. A quick adjustment later and the two of you were tucked under the blankets, your head on Art’s chest and his arm around you. Neither of you cared enough to clean yourselves up or to put pajamas on. Art was already softly snoring next to you, and you could feel your eyelids getting heavy.

As you listened to the baddump of his heart, a strange thought flitted through your mind. You’d just had the best sex of your life, and it was because of Patrick. You weren’t the only one who’d been thinking of him while in the throes of passion. The notion made something strange twinge in your gut. 

And then, like he’d somehow read your mind, your phone lit up with a text. 

Patrick Zweig: You free for lunch tomorrow?

***

Taglist: 

@jxssimae

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@yesimwriting

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@brunettegirl

[nikkeora]

e-42!Miles Morales headcanons (fluff) ㅡ

Okay, so, I've seen a lot of people headcanon that Miles is going to buy you anything and everything you even look at

but while that's fine because they're headcanons, let me remind you the boy is 16. He's not gonna be walking into Gucci and buying everything off the displays like a webtoon.

That being said, if he has a little extra cash he'll most likely spend it on you.

I'm talking little meaningful things though. Flowers, books, little trinkets that reminded him of you and such,

if your hobby needs supplies, he'll discreetly scan your stock when he's over and get you a refill of whatever you're low on.

He also cherishes whatever you gift to him and refuses to throw anything from you away.

Like once, you got the both of you matching shoes. They've been his favorite pair ever since.

And also dates.

Dates are a little rare between the two of you ngl, because 1) New York is literally Gotham atp, and 2) being the Prowler takes up a lot of time.

so you mostly hang out at each other's places as a substitute.

But when you do go out, Miles will plan everything down to a T

because let's face it, he tries to act cool but boy is nervous

You're the first person that isn't family he's actually opened up to. He doesn't want you to have a single bad experience with him.

But even if your dates go sideways, either one or both of you always find a way to make it better :)

At the start of your relationship, he's not too big on PDA.

but as it progresses, he starts getting more comfortable about stuff like holding hands or chaste kisses in public.

Once he's completely sure of himself and the two of you, he's always touching you in some way;

linking pinkies, holding hands, hand/arm around your waist, etc.

Never, I repeat never in front of Uncle Aaron though.

It's not that he's embarrassed of you or anything, but his uncle will definitely tease the living hell out of him

Speaking of Uncle Aaron, he likes you.

The first time he heard about you was a week or two after he taught Miles the Shoulder Touch™

Keep in mind, this is before Miles's dad passed away and all that,

so the boy was awkward.

When he tried it out on you, you couldn't help laughing, just a tiny bit.

Then he made the mistake of telling his uncle, who made it so much worse

"Can you please stop laughing? I'm being serious!"

"I'm sorry man–"

"No you're not 😒"

Back to physical affection, Miles is a sucker for any that you give him.

hugs, cuddles, kisses, you name it.

He will literally melt into your arms.

He'll try to deny it at first but it isn't fooling anyone, so at one point he just gives up the tough guy act when it's just the two of you.

Forehead/top of the head kisses? PLEASE PLEASE P L E A S E

he needs some soft affection.

He is down bad.

You get back hugs. all the time. extra when he's sleepy.

he will literally penguin walk you everywhere.

A lot of times he'll put his head on your chest and hear your heartbeat to remind himself you're still there and his. Especially when 'work' was hard.

Speaking of, he also told you he's the Prowler.

Of course, he tried to delay it as much as he could, but once the two of you were absolutely stable he felt wrong keeping it a secret.

Especially when he had to bail on plans for some inpromptu work thing and couldn't give you a reason why.

You'd kinda put two and two together at that point, but it was nice to hear him actually tell you.

After Miles comes clean though, his protective tendancies will double.

He isn't controlling or smothering, but he has some strong feelings against you walking in the streets alone after dark and such.

And they only get stronger after he tells you what he does. If something happened to you because you knew, he'd never forgive himslelf.

So he takes precautions. Whenever he drops by your place after work, he always changes first so that no one sees the Prowler frequent some random apartment.

he'll never let you anywhere near his job. You don't need to watch all that nasty shit.

and so on, so forth.

He's also a big whiner. He will drag his words out to the ends of the earth if he has to.

"Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa–"

"Miles, my paper's due in two days."

"Finish it tomorrow then. Necesito sostenerte, hermosa."

"...Fine."

Mrs. Morales also loves you. You're basically her daughter in law already.

Which is great!

Until she starts showing you the baby pictures.

"Miles had the cutest little face–"

"Má, please–"

She loves having you around and will let you stay the night whenever (as long as the door's cracked open).

You're invited to every single family event courtesy of Rio.

Miles will try to participate in anything you're interested in.

you like doing makeup? put some on him pls.

he'll also watch youtube tutorials to learn how to do it himself and do it for you.

which doesn't work too well the first few times, but now he's a natural!

his first time doing your eyeliner though:

"Miles, you've been at it for like 10 minutes. Let me see!"

"..."

"Is that– is that a wing?"

"..."

"🏃‍♂️🚶‍♂️"

"No, no, it's nice– it's so nice–"

Rio almost died laughing.

If you like to draw, he'll take you on grafitti dates !

But if you're nervous about that, then he'll just sit and draw with you or something.

don't look at his paper, he's drawing you and will be very flustered (he'll try to play it cool but blushing isn't rly something he can control)

so yea look at his paper

If you're part of a fandom, he'll study everything he can find on it so that he can understand what you're talking about.

He'll most likely like it too, and you guys could spend hours talking about it if you want.

but if he's not that into it, he'll just sit and listen contently to you talk about it with the stupidest smile on his face like :]

He has the softest spot for you even a blind person could see it.

He just loves you so much pls love him back

probably do a pt.2 soon

[catsvrsdogscatswin]

I've had this thought swirling in the back of my head for a while, but it's finally congealed enough that I think I can make a coherent pitch, which is: I think RWBY's problems with the more vitriolic part of its fanbase partially stems from the fact that RWBY is a deconstruction that doesn't advertise it's a deconstruction.

RWBY's status as a deconstruction is pretty textbook. It takes apart standard fantasy, shounen, and anime tropes in order to analyze them and their deeper meaning and then reassembles them in new and interesting ways for the plot/characters/series. Thing is, it never says that outright in promotional material, which can lead to later outrage in fans.

See, unless their way of discovering new shows is to close their eyes and stab their finger at random, most people tend to choose series to watch/read based on expectations. Maybe a friend said they'll like it because it has [insert thing], maybe they read the summary and were intrigued, maybe they thought the poster/cover art was cool, whatever. These small pieces of information are generally enough for people to make a snap-judgment of the style and genre of the series, which they can then gauge against their personal tastes and decide whether or not they want to try.

Most of the time, this works just fine. Well-written deconstructions also generally give the viewers some warning/buildup before they take a hard swerve. See Madoka Magica: the magical girl paradigm is shaded by the possibility of death as soon as we're introduced to it, then there's an onscreen death with blood, and then a few episodes later we eventually realize the Faustian bargain of it all. Even innocent viewers who stumbled into watching it, unaware of the show's reputation, would go "Oh, wait, this is not going in the direction magical girl shows usually go" by a third of the way through.

The thing is, with RWBY, this does not happen unless you're paying a lot of attention and/or looking for it. And neither the cover art nor the summary nor, I believe, the fanbase gives a lot of warning about the swerves ahead.

In fact, RWBY initially bills itself as a pretty standard shounen anime. The main protagonist is hinted to have Special Powers and gets into the Magic Monster-Hunting School in the first episode, and the first two-and-a-half seasons are taken up by her and her friends' superhero-esque slice-of-life shenanigans as they thwart robberies and terrorist attacks and gear up for a tournament arc against the looming background of a larger conspiracy.

Then in the last half of the third season the villains' entire Rube Goldberg machine of a scheme snaps into completion and the plot twists so hard the entire genre takes a hard right. If you're used to character analysis and common anime tropes, this is not completely a surprise -up until this point, RWBY's character arcs and plot have been subtly traveling in non-traditional directions that hint of greater flexibility in genre treatment ahead- but if you're not... well.

Thing is, people watching RWBY up until this point have signed up for pretty standard shounen and they've been getting it, but the third season's ending smashes that all to bits. From then on out in RWBY, it's like they ordered fries and suddenly got a hamburger. It might be delicious; but it's not what they asked for, what they wanted, or what they paid for, and they are, justifiably, displeased.

So when the reasonable people either adjusted their expectations or sighed, shook their heads, and clicked back out (perhaps with a grumble and a scowl), the unreasonable people dug their heels in and began insisting that everybody was Getting The Show/Character Wrong and that CRWBY is ruining it, because the fact that RWBY's method of deconstruction is to put standard tropes in a blender and then arrange what's left in deceptive patterns means that said unreasonable viewers can scan the bare surface and argue that all the stereotypical stuff is clearly still under there, somewhere.

So they're continually trying to drag RWBY back to the tracks of a typical shounen anime series (it's closest relative), which creates a dissonance between the show they're watching and the show they think they're watching. They're trying to turn the hamburger back into fries, basically, except that doesn't work and just frustrates everyone involved, because you're trying to make RWBY into something that it's not. Hence, this attitude probably starting/fueling some of the more contentious statements in the fandom, i.e.:

"Ironwood was right the whole time" (in most action movies and shounen anime, allied military leaders are trustworthy beyond reproach)

"Adam's character was wasted" (we all know how much shounen loves their powerful warrior antiheroes)

"Ruby and the others are in the wrong about [insert thing]/or for doing [insert thing], and this is bad writing!" (shounen protagonists don't usually make more than One Very Big Mistake over the course of their entire careers, which is usually fixed/overcome/redeemed via an appropriately rigorous training arc)

And to be clear, there's nothing wrong with shounen tropes or shounen anime. They're wonderful storytelling devices in their own way and their own time: but if you want standard by-the-book shounen without any new and interesting concoctions, then RWBY is definitely not the show for you. And most people don't find that out until it's too late.

[hwathinker]

"no one's going to look at that dress on you except me."

pairings ; idol!boyfriend!seonghwa x non idol!fem!reader warnings ; just pure smut (mdni lol), yes i have a thing for fingering and licking </3 wn ; i've been very lazy lately but i felt like writing something haha (just want hwa's cock fr) lmk if there are any errors thanks

its your dinner night with your co-workers today, now you're unpacking your things out on the floor one by one. seonghwa had a day off from work after their world tour as they're already finished. he booked a room in the hotel you're going to have dinner at, but instead of booking for one person, he got a bigger room as he's going to accompany you along. honestly the best idea to let him be with you. really.

you and seonghwa went to the mall after you've checked in and already had your stuff in your hotel room. now, hunting for foods to stay in the night. "baby, are you sure you're going to the dinner night? i got a bad feeling about it.." seonghwa said. he didn't want you to go simply because he don't want anyone to look at you with the dress he got you on your birthday. you looked at him, smiling and confused at the same time. "why wouldn't i? its my first dinner night as a co-worker. of course i'd go." you grabbed three to four packs of chips, along with some instant noodles and put it in the basket seonghwa was holding.

"i know but... ahh you know baby?! Sometimes it's quite best to listen to your boyfriend! I mean.." he stuttered, not wanting to let you know about his jealousy over the dress. You didn't bother to say something, bringing him to the counter and pay for everything. After you both had shopped for foods, you head back to your hotel room. To get some rest before going to have fun tonight.

you plopped down on your shared king sized bed leaving the foods unpacked from its plastic bags. seonghwa was still at the front door, taking off his shoes before joining you. he moved closer, grabbing you by the waist. "baby, please? i don't want you to go." he pouts. you caressed his cheeks as you smiled. "its just for about.. until midnight. just like how we're away when you're busy with your schedules." you said, pinching his nose as he smiles. "fine. i'll let you. lets take a nap, shall we? wouldn't wanna let my baby gets tired before her best night." seonghwa said. little did he know, he won't let you go tonight anyway.

8:25pm

strawberry perfume filling the room, with your heat curled hair just on the right length. the red satin dress that seonghwa had bought for your anniversary months ago, hugs your body so well, with a little cut to your knees. everything goes so well along with your perfect makeup you had practiced for tonight. also, your black purse making you look elegant. seonghwa was in bed, already in his favorite black pajamas. behind being busy with his phone, he was too nervous to look at you. "hwa, do i look good?" you said, turning back from the mirror for him to look at you clearer. seonghwa cleared his throat, eyebrow furrowed but his eyes didn't shift a little to even glance at you. "uh.. yeah... it looks very pretty, baby." he said. the reaction he had doesn't excite you that much. you walked towards him, putting your purse down on the bed. hovering over him sweating a little by little. you took his phone away, throwing it somewhere only god knows.

seonghwa, once again cleared his throat. folding his hands over his chest as he looks away except you. you quickly grab his face by his chin, eyes locked to his big ones. seonghwa finally giving in, making an eye contact with you, slowly going down to your dress. scanning your whole profile, he felt himself growing erection. you backed off, giving him more view of your whole look. seonghwa was in awe, sitting up as he's still looking at you up and down, slowly. "so? any comments now?" you said, feeling impatient for his answers. seonghwa simply got up, basically hovering over your still small body even wearing the high heels. he held you by your waist, pulling you closer to him . caressing your hair, gently grabbing some to admire. you smiled, throwing your arms over his shoulder, approving his silent compliments. "oh baby, i bet everyone will love this look of yours." he said, cupping your cheek as he kisses you passionately. his other hand, going down to your ass, gently squishing them.

you melted into the kiss, slowly forgetting about the dinner you're going to have for about an hour. seonghwa pulled you closer, slowly walking backwards to the bed. as you both pulled away from your kiss, he's finally sat on the bed, with you hovering over him. hands on his shoulders, your left leg placed beside his, as his hands are still glued on your body. you looked at the clock on the wall, 8:49pm. "shit, its getting late. i have to go now-" you were about to let go but seonghwa had his arms around you as soon as you noticed. you looked down at him, his eyes were.. full of lust. his tongue pressed on the inside if his cheek. "baby i have to-" "no one's going to look at that dress on you except me." you were once got cut off again by him. looking at him ever so confusingly, you laughed it off. "so.. you begged me not to go because of this dress i had from you?" you said, placing your hands on his shoulder once again.

"i don't think i allow my princess to go around so sexy like this. this look on you.." he hissed, furrowing his eyebrows together as he looks at your curves along with his hands tracing them. "its only for me. for my eyes only, baby." he leaned down, bringing you along as you're now hovering over him again. "do you know how much i've been imagining you with this dress on but you never put it on back then.. i'd love to hear my name moaned out by your sweet voice.. in this dress." he said again. his eyes still admiring your body non stop. you smirked at him, rolling down next to him, signaling him to go on top of you.

"obedient... and controlling much? love, you have no idea how hot you are." he said, grabbing the both of your hands and holding them with one hand over your head. "you love it hm? love it when i use this kind of clothing so that you would have an excuse to fuck me out with your aching dick?" you teased, wiggling your feet to let go of your heels and place them around seonghwa's waist. "you're one to talk." seonghwa kissed you, not rough, but also not so gentle. just the way you love it. he leans closer to you, resting his body on yours as his other hands rests on your neck. you felt his crotch pressed against your wet core, so you tried to thrust upwards to meet his aching dick once again. he noticed that, stopping every movements as he backed off an inch away to look into your eyes. "i thought you were more into the dinner more than me." he said, getting up from you. he flipped you around and took off his pants. you looked back, noticing a patched on his boxer. you smirked in his current state. seonghwa gently press on his erection, eyes only locked on you. "you see this..? this is your fault, babygirl." reaching to your back, he unzips your dress.

exposing your back, naked without a bra. (shh.. you used a sticky(?) bra thing on ur tits ;D) seonghwa licked his bottom lips, caressing your waist as he slid the dress down till it fell on the floor. "baby.. where is your bra hm? really was expecting this moment don't you?" he said, now ripping off your laced black panties. you whined at his hands roaming around your body, basically tickling you in a hot way. "please.. stop." you begged, not wanting to be in the teasing session anymore. seonghwa leaned to you, holding your face up by your chin making you look at him. "please what..?" he licked your earlobe, pecking on it all the way to your shoulder. "p-please.. just fuck me already..!" you whined, feeling his soft lips going down to your wet core.

seonghwa finally reached your heated cunt, looking at every curves as possible. "i need you to turn around for me baby." he said, tapping your thighs twice. you obeyed, rolling to your back as you sigh in relaxation. seonghwa put your legs up, locking them down on the mattress with his arms to get a clear view on your leaking core. seonghwa breathed to your pussy, knowing you would feel it. "baby, you're already so wet now? you are so.. so naughty." he licked your folds, wanting to hear the pretty voice of yours. after giving them kitten licks, he went looking at your cunt again. this time, you're constantly twitching as you wanted more of his tongue. he loved the way you just breath so hard without your words, but your cunt says everything you need just by twitching so much.

seonghwa caress the outside of your folds before inserting one finger in, eyes focusing on your reaction to it. he loves.. like really loves you making those faces while you hold in your moans. "louder love, don't hold them in if you love it." he said, increasing the pace of his finger. "a-ah, mm.. hwa.. please.." you moaned out. seonghwa slowed down once more, "please what hmm..?" sucking on your clit and flatten his tongue on them. your mind was spinning at how good he's making you feel. "just... let me cum.." you quietly said, stopping seonghwa's hand from moving again. instead, his tongue was teasing your clit. "please.. hwa, i just want to cum on your face.. your dick.." you breathily begged. he kissed your inner thigh as approval, inserting another finger inside you as he pump them faster. along with his tongue licking your pussy so good. you rolled your eyes back, pleasure waving over. your thigh was shaking, winning over his arms that was holding them back as you squished his face with your thigh.

when you were close, he pulled out his finger as he gets up. he licks them until they're clean, it made you shiver. "oh baby, need you to cum all over me now." seonghwa went back to his position, this time he's licking your cunt until you cum. his tongue works so perfectly inside you, rolling them smoothly and hitting the right spot. "yes.. more.. ah, i'm gonna-" as soon as you were going to finish your sentence, you moaned out in pleasure as you came onto his tongue. seonghwa cleaned your release so well, not missing any drop behind.

after he licked them clean, he gave your puffy cunt a peck before getting up to get off his boxer. his dick springs out, almost touching your lower stomach. "don't think i am done yet with you. that was only a warmup. well, for me."

-

haa omgg shai posted another seonghwa smut omg ! bro yall have no idea how HORNY i am over the recent concert like... seonghwa be fucking the thin air and i'm here with my aching pussy like... GOD just fuck me already

[thecomfortgoth]

Peeping Tom Part 2

18+ MDNI (just don't, ok?)

Part 1 can be found here. Masterlist can be found here.

Eddie Munson x Fem Reader x Perv!Steve Harrington

Summary: Steve hadn't been able to get what he'd saw behind that gym block out of his mind. Even when he was fucking other girls. A confession, a confrontation and a deal is made.

WC: 8.2k

CW: unprotected p in v sex (use a condom, pls), booty call, masturbation (m), panty sniffing/licking, gaslighting, use of degrading pet names, use of praisey pet names, daddy kink, dom!Steve, ONE use of y/n (I tried avoiding it but I couldn't), face fucking, fingering (f receiving), Steve being a fuckboy and a pervert, very small & brief mention of a piss kink (only time this will ever happen), mention of squirting, posessiveness, jealousy, mentions of voyeurism/exhibitionism, violence (there's a little bit of blood), bullying/teasing, illusions to/discussion of cheating, dirty talk, kinda angst? all characters are 18+

Please let me know if I've forgotten anything and I will add it.

A/N: okay here it is, part 2 finally. It was originally going to end up being huge so please don't worry, this is NOT the end of this story, there WILL be a part 3. I am a little worried this will be a bit of a let down, but I promise part 3 is gonna be worth it, so bare with me, it's coming. Leave feedback, let me know if you enjoyed it!

My requests are currently OPEN and I write for Eddie, Steddie, Steve and Billy. Send me some stuff!

Smut (and a little bit of angst this time) under the cut

He knew he'd find you here. Standing at your locker, completely unaware of his presence.

He snorted a quiet laugh to himself as he thought of how that wasn't the first time you didn't know he was there. He watched you from down the hall, sorting through textbooks and putting some in your bag, taking others out and slotting them into their rightful place inside the small metal closet full of your belongings.

His eyes gazed over the little dress you were wearing today. A gorgeous deep wine red, strappy with a black t-shirt underneath, the fabric hugging at your waist and flowing out around your hips. Your legs were bare, they looked like they were so fucking soft. The whole ensemble finished off with a pair of simple black leather platform ankle boots.

Steve had never really been one for noticing exactly what a girl was wearing, usually too focused on getting them out of their clothes to be bothered with it. But with you? It was different. He kinda wanted to fuck you fully clothed, hiking that pretty dress up enough for him to slot between your thighs and slip inside that soaked slit between your legs that he'd thought about since it was first revealed to him last week.

Fuck, he'd thought about it almost every night. Even when he was balls deep inside whatever his flavour of the day was. But he also thought about having you completely bare and exposed for him too. Alot.

Before he knew it, he was moving forwards, smirking a little as he saw your eyes flash towards him, finally noticing him. Your cheeks turned a real pretty shade of pink and he just knew it complimented the colour of your perky nipples, and that it had flushed all the way up to the tip of your ears.

You'd been actively trying to avoid him. Apart from a few little winks in the corridors in passing which made you want to shrivel up with embarrassment, you'd managed to successfully do so. But now he was coming up to you. And Eddie wasn't here to hide behind or use as an excuse or a distraction. The hallway was filled with strangers as you scanned around for one singular familiar face, cursing under your breath as you heard the footsteps get closer.

"Looking for someone, pretty girl?" He crooned, smooth and his voice still a little thick with the morning. Turning your head you saw him leaning against the locker next to yours, a thumb slotted into the belt loop of blue jeans as his other hand held the strap of his backpack.

Fuck. You had to talk to him now. You didn't want to be rude and you definitely didn't want to just walk away. It'd look really fucking strange if you did that. As much as you wanted to, so badly. "Uh.. n-no I was just.. seeing if Eddie was coming, he should be here a-any second now" you stuttered out nervously, giving him a small tight lipped smile, trying to deter him by threatening the appearance of your large intimidating boyfriend. You definitely had scary dog privileges, and you were thankful for it right now.

"Oh I'm sure he's coming alright" he grinned at you, bearing his teeth like a shark, eyeing you up and down slowly, drinking you in. You found it somewhat threatening. Even if you couldn't help but think about just how perfect his incisors would feel sinking into the skin of your shoulder. You swallowed and shook your head a little at his comment, trying to get rid of your thoughts as the blush on your face deepened.

"Look, Steve, I-I know you saw us that day behind the gym block b-but-" you started, looking down at your feet as you closed your locker but were cut off by him laughing a little at you. Kind of meanly. You looked at him in confusion, reaching up and fiddling with the guitar pick necklace of Eddie's that you always wore. He'd told you it would show everyone you were his girl - even if everyone already knew that. It'd become somewhat of a security item for you now.

"B-but what?" He mocked you a little, cocking his head to the side and looking at you now like he pitied you, still with that fucking stupid grin on his face. "Don't sit there and act all shy, sweets. You definitely weren't when I sat and watched your boyfriend drill his dick inside you while you flicked your tongue at me and watched me cum in front of you" he chuckled low, getting a little closer to you.

You still couldn't look at him. You kept your gaze on the floor, shuffling uncomfortably from foot to foot. You felt like the walls were closing in the closer he got, feeling your back hit against the cool metal behind you and a hand plant itself next to your head, the sound of it making you gasp a little and your head shooting up. You looked at the hand. It was his hand. His big, thick fingers tapping steadily at the grate of the locker. Why did you clench your thighs at the sight of them, thinking about how they'd feel stuffed inside you?

You turned your face slowly to see him closer than ever, only inches from your face now. Jesus fucking Christ, what was he doing?! Eddie was sure to come around the corner any moment now and catch you two like this. And he'd fucking rip him limb from limb if he saw him up this close and personal to you. Even if he wasn't even touching you. "Y-you need to go" you squeaked out pathetically, your voice just above a whisper.

"Why? I mean, it's not like Eddie's gonna really care. He let me watch you two fuck, didn't he?" He grinned his teeth at you wider, the grin faltering a little as you ducked your head again. "Shit" he muttered under his breath. "He had no fucking clue did he? You let me see all that and he didn't even know? And you still haven't ratted me out? Wow, maybe you are a dirty little slut after all, keeping naughty little secrets like that from your boyfriend" he groaned a little, getting a tiny bit closer. "Wonder if you'd keep any more dirty little secrets from him.." he said in a raspy tone, making your heart flutter at a million miles an hour for more than one reason.

"You want me to make your cunt drip down your leg with my cum like he did that day?" He smirked as you gasped at his words, your face shooting up as you looked at him angrily now, Steve getting ever closer to you as his hot breath fanned your face. "He doesn't have to know, does he? Cause you can keep a secret, can't you?"

You'd had enough. You couldn't fucking take this bullshit anymore. You used all your strength and pushed him away from you, watching as he stumbled back and laughed at you, seeing you storm off down the hallway with the straps of your backpack gripped tightly in both hands. Your face was now matching the colour of your dress and your jaw clenched, lips pursed tightly against each other as you made your way to class, steam practically rising out of your head.

He'd got what he wanted. He'd successfully riled you up. And he knew you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. He smirked in your direction, watching the way the skirt of your dress would flounce around your ass as you briskly walked off. He couldn't help but kiss the air again in your direction, like he'd done that day last week, before he made his way to his own class. His mind now filled with a million dirty thoughts, a lot of them about throwing you in a janitor's closet and making a mess of that pretty little flushed face of yours and getting that little dress off you. As much as he'd love to be inside your cunt with it still draped over your every curve.

That night was just a normal Wednesday night, and Steve had no plans. His parents were gone and it wasn't quite the weekend so there was no use trying to throw a party. But he couldn't shake the thought of your pretty dress and the way it swished around your thighs, almost revealing your round, jiggly ass to him as you walked off.

How it hugged against your swollen chest as you huffed down the corridor angrily. He wasn't sure why he found the thought of you walking away all pissed off and embarrassed because he'd been teasing you at school so fucking hot. He smirked to himself, humming a little and feeling a tent in his pants form as he lounged around on the couch in his grey sweats and no shirt, his bare hairy chest fully exposed to the elements.

He palmed at himself a little, thinking back to what he had seen in that alley that day. The way you looked at him, the way you licked your lips, the way your mouth fell open and you made a really pretty noise when Eddie fucked you a certain way, probably hitting your g-spot with the head of his cock. Fuck. He groaned at the thought of that, how your pussy would flutter at having that special spot inside you battered against repeatedly with a thick cock.

Steve was rock solid now. He wanted to push his dick between your wet little lips and face fuck you into next fucking year, make your eyes water and your drool spill down your chin and neck, soaking the collar of whatever you were wearing. Or just your bare tits if he'd got you out of your clothes by that point.

But he can't, cause you're Eddie's. And yeah, maybe that did make him a little jealous, because he wanted to destroy you and leave you more of a mess than Eddie had. More of a mess than you probably had ever been.

Fuck it. He wasn't in the mood to deal with his boner himself, not when he could have someone else's hand wrapped around him at a moment's notice, the perks of being "The King". He pushed himself up off the couch, heading up to his room to find his little notebook of girls phone numbers he kept. You know, the kind that any popular senior high guy would have.

Or maybe it was just Steve. Chicks really digged Steve for some reason. He wasn’t sure if it was the hair, his charm or the fact that he was more than well endowed. Or maybe he just knew a lot of slutty girls. He looked through the book, trying to find someone who was even anything close to you. Although they'd never compare, not in a million years.

Not Tammy, she sounds like a fucking muppet even when she’s having sex, especially when she cums. Steve shuddered at the memory of it. Not Nancy, she's with Jonathan and definitely too much of a goody two shoes to cheat on him, even if he knows that his dick has to be bigger and better than that little rat looking fuckers. He scoffs a laugh as he flips past her name.

He finds a girls name, no last name, just written down hastily as “Claire from Chem class”. He couldn’t remember who that was for a minute, he had to think about it. Wow, was he really that much of a manwhore? He chuckled to himself as he thought of it, coming to the conclusion that he was but he didn't particularly care.

Suddenly his eyes went wide when he remembered that she was the girl who could deepthroat a cock without taking a breath for at least 5 minutes. And she’d let him cum inside her, she did last time. “Shit” he hissed out, rubbing at his erection over his sweats, mulling it over in his head. She did have the same hair colour as you. And the same body shape. So it would make imagining it was you much easier. He picked up his phone and immediately dialled her number, confident in his choice of fuckdoll for tonight. It wasn’t long before she answered the phone eagerly, giving him a sweet little “Hello?”

He smirked to himself, poking his tongue on the inside of his cheek as he lounged back against the headboard of his bed, the cord of the phone stretching over as he lazily stroked a finger up and down the outline of his clothed dick. “Hey babygirl” he said down the phone, turning that charm up to 11 as he heard Claire from Chem Class giggle and say his name down the phone breathily, clearly trying to be sexy. “What are you up to, gorgeous? You wanna come over? I’ve missed you”

It's not long before Claire is at his place, he’s grabbing at her and pulling her close the second she's in through the door, biting his lip at her and sliding his hands up her hips to her waist, pressing her against the wall next to the front door, her hands going to his shoulders and laying there, letting him feel her up as he pleased.

He does notice as she's trying to say hello to him that she’s wearing a nice little blue denim skirt and a white tank top that pushes her tits up nicely, they’re just about as big as yours too and they make him groan at the sight of them, surging forward and sloppily making out with her, all tongue and teeth and spit as she reached down and cupped his bulge. She fucking knew exactly what she was coming here for, the little whore.

The thought makes him stiffen further in his sweats as he moves his hands under her top, cupping at her bare tits, pinching at her stiff nipples a little meanly as she whimpered into his mouth. Fuck, no bra. And suddenly he’s thinking about you again. How you showed Eddie (and him) your tits behind the gym block that day. Completely exposing yourself for any wandering eyes to potentially see.

He fucking practically growled, picking the girl up who he’d basically asked to come over so he could use her like a fleshlight, wrapping her legs around his waist, carrying her upstairs and into his bedroom. He swatted a firm hand down onto her ass and listened to her moan out as he grabbed at it under her skirt, not bothering to close his door behind them. No one was home so it didn’t matter.

He quickly got her to the edge of his bed, stripping her off out of the few pieces of clothes she actually was wearing, tossing her pretty blue lace panties into the corner of his room. Not before he brought them up to his face and inhaled them deeply as she leaned forward and sloppily made out with his neck, flicking his tongue over the small wet patch of her arousal he could see darkening them. She wouldn’t be getting those back, that was safe to say. He’d be adding them to the pile of girls underwear he’d started collecting in the last few months which he’d started doing for… reasons.

God, what he’d give to have a pair of your panties, he doesn’t care what colour they are or if they were sexy or not, he just wanted to have something that had been pressed tightly against your cunt all day, soaked with your sweet wetness, something he could sniff and lick at just like he did a moment ago with Claire Whoever's, something he could wrap around his cock and get himself off with whenever he wanted. Or until it was too covered in his cum and he physically couldn’t use them anymore.

He tossed her onto his bed with a bounce, standing at the side smirking down at her as she looked up at him, licking her lips as her eyes hungrily watched him shuffle his sweats off, his cock springing up against stomach and already leaking a little. It was all because of the thoughts of you he’d been having. And maybe also a little because this Claire girl from chem class was actually pretty hot. He got onto the bed in front of her, spreading her legs and holding them apart for him, studying her shaved wet pussy that was spread open wide for him as he hovered over her.

Steve wasn't fussy about pussy hair or the lack thereof, if there was a hole and a clit for him to bully, he really didn't care about anything else. But yours had a tiny patch of hair, perfectly groomed that sat just above your slit. He wondered what it’d feel like against his tongue if he licked that little patch of hair on your cunt. If he’d be able to taste you from it before he’d even dipped his tongue into you.

He heard her whine a little, grinning down at her like she was his prey, rolling her hips towards him ever so slightly. “Keep your legs open for me just like that babe, yeah?” he said as he slipped a hand between her legs and slid his fingers up and down her already soaked slit, teasing her as he watched her whimper and gasp underneath him, leaning down to kiss and bite at her neck, not particularly caring if he was being too hard or not.

She didn’t say anything anyway, she just moaned out so he assumed she was enjoying it. He quickly remembered she was the type to like being used, maybe a little bit of a pillow princess. He wondered if you’d like that too, if you'd just lay there and let him do whatever the fuck he wanted to you, move you around however he wanted to.

“You gonna suck me off like you did last time, baby? I haven’t forgotten what you can do with that fuckin’ throat of yours” he groaned against her neck, licking over the teeth marks he’d just made in her skin. She nodded her head and placed her hands on his shoulders again, which he swiftly grabbed by each of her wrists and pinned above her head, pulling back to look down at her as he used one big hand to tightly bind her wrists together and push them into the mattress a bit more.

“I asked you a fuckin' question. I expect you to answer me, using your words. Or is that too much for your dumb little brain to handle?” he said through gritted teeth, clenching his jaw a little. Safe to say, Steve definitely liked to be the one in control in the bedroom, he liked overpowering girls, making them bend to his will and obey his every command.

“Y-yes daddy” she whimpered pathetically, and she almost sounded just like how he imagined you would if you said the same thing. He chuckled lowly, his cock twitching at what she’d just called him, leaning down and placing his other hand on her jaw, opening her mouth for him as he licked into it and then spat directly on her tongue, watching as she swallowed before shuffling himself up so he was straddling her chest, still holding her wrists in one hand as he lined up his cock with her mouth.

“Thats what I like to fuckin’ hear, atta girl. Now open wide, don’t keep me fucking waiting." he gritted out, watching as she parted her lips and suddenly thrusting his whole length into her mouth, moaning out as he felt her gag around him at the sudden intrusion, but welcoming him in all the same. He fucked her mouth just like that, closing his eyes and pretending it was your mouth he was fucking into instead, feeling her squirm a little underneath him and listening to all the little whimpers and whines coming from her between chokes and gags. He wasn’t exactly quiet either, moaning and groaning without abandon as he pumped himself harshly into her throat.

"Stay still, slut. I'll just fuck harder if you don't stop, leave your throat all bruised from the inside, that what you want, hm?" She sighed a breath through her nose and whined as he said that, stopping her writhing and just laying there, letting him use her mouth for his own pleasure, spreading her legs wider behind him, exposing her pussy to the cool air of his room. Just like he'd wanted.

He continues on like that for a few minutes, until she slaps her hand back on the pillow a few times to let him know she needs some air, pulling out and moving beside her, taking one of her hands and wrapping it around his cock. He moved it up and down, silently instructing her to stroke him, his hand slipping between her legs again and immediately finding her clit, rubbing harsh circles into it for a moment before sliding his fingers down to her entrance and pushing two of his fingers inside her, hearing her moan out his name, not really close to how he’d imagined you would but it would do.

He latched his mouth onto the nipple closest to him and sucked at the peaked bud, licking and slurping at it harshly. He pumped his fingers in and out of her fast and hard, feeling her pussy clench and flutter around his digits, groaning as he made her cum on his fingers after a few short minutes, listening to her moan loudly, calling her a dirty whore and asking her if she liked being used like this, to which she just whimpered and nodded, fucked out and drooling all over herself already.

Steve was too fucking good sometimes. He could have girls squirting with minimal effort sometimes, and yeah maybe he was a little cocky about it. Even if Steve really was only after his own release, he still made sure they had a good time. Good enough they'd come back begging for more and he could have a healthy collection of all kinds of girls he could take his pick from whenever he fancied it.

Soon after, he’s moving between her legs, grabbing both of her calves and pushing her legs right back, her knees almost touching her shoulders. “Think you’re ready for me now, baby. You want daddy’s cock filling you up nice and deep?” he moaned a little, reaching down to position himself at her entrance, not giving her a chance to respond before he was thrusting inside of her and bottoming out immediately.

He didn’t like to waste time with these girls, which is why he immediately got to thrusting inside her, leaning back on his heels as he held her legs up in the air, open wide for him. He listened as she cried out at the stretch of him, grabbing the pillow behind her tightly and screwing her face up as her mouth hung wide open, her tits bouncing obscenely as his balls slapped against her ass with each pump of his hips.

He imagined it was your gorgeous face. Your pretty round tits. You laying on your back underneath him, spread wide for him as he fucked into you faster and harder, groaning and cursing as he watched you lose your fucking mind beneath him, moaning louder and louder with each thrust. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to get lost in it, lost in the feeling of the girls tight cunt swallowing him up, lost in the fantasy of fucking you behind Eddie’s back.

He just had to break you down a little first, get you to the point you couldn’t resist and would just have to fuck him. He saw how you looked at him, how you licked those lips at him and your gaze stayed on him the whole time your boyfriend was railing you against the wall. Through his thoughts, he distantly heard a voice moan something about how his dick was so big and how she was gonna cum again.

“I know baby, I know, s’so big isn’t it? You’re so fucking tight jesus f-FUCK, you like being fucked like this? Like being used and being my little stupid cockwhore y/n? Bet you fucking do, such a slut fucking me while you're with Eddie” he moaned out loudly, not even realising what he was fucking saying. Suddenly the girl beneath him went quiet, but he continued on, still rutting into her, eyes closed tightly as he moaned at the thought of what you’d say back to him, imagining all sorts of filth coming out of your mouth.

“What did you just fucking say?” That wasn’t your voice.

Shit. He looked down at the girl beneath him who was giving him daggers, still fucking her but slowing down a little as he gave her a confused look, shaking his head and panting. “What? Do you not like being called a slut or something? I thought you liked it last time” He honestly couldn’t remember if she did or not, but he started to realise what he’d just said and was trying to cover his own ass.

“No, not that you fucking- get off me!” she said, sitting up and slapping at his chest, shuffling back from him as his cock slid out of her and he sat back on his heels, holding his hands out in front of himself and shaking his head again.

“What are you talking about then?”

“Who’s name did you just fucking say?”

“Yours?”

“You absolutely did not fucking say my name! You said Eddie Munsons girlfriend's name!” she barked at him, looking at him as her face screwed up angrily, her eyes narrowing in on him. “Were you just thinking about her while you were fucking me?!”

“What? I didn’t say her name! You’re fucking hearing shit, you’re that fucked out your making shit up in your head, come on babe, stop being fucking stupid and I can make you cum again and give you a nice big load of my mine” he tutted, sighing out loudly as he tried to reach forward for her, but she slapped his hands away, getting up off the bed as she looked around for her clothes. He watched her as she did so, seeing the glisten of her arousal leak down her thighs a little that he wanted to lick up with his tongue. Shit. He’d fucked up. But he only cared because his dick was painfully hard at this point and he really needed to cum. He reached down and began tugging at himself lazily, watching as she started putting her top on.

“Yes you fucking did. Stop jerking off, jesus christ. I thought you actually liked me, I thought that's why you’d called me and asked me to come over again!” she yelled at him, her expression a little hurt but mostly still angry as she hurriedly shimmied her skirt up her legs to her hips, toeing on her sneakers.

Steve was done with this shit. He fucking hated when girls assumed that they meant more to him than a quick dirty lay. He scoffed a laugh at her, shaking his head as he leaned back on his bed on an elbow, still jerking himself as he smirked at her and moaned out a little.

“Baby, you’re really gonna try that? You knew I was just calling you for a fuck, I already told you before I didn’t want anything serious with you” he chuckled, stroking the remnants of her slick over the head of his cock as he grinned at her, all teeth and sharklike. “Besides, what if I did say her name, hm? Can’t blame me, she’s a real fucking pretty girl. Got a pretty cunt too”

“Yeah, like you’d know, Eddie'd fucking kill you if you went near her so I know you haven't." Steve just shrugged and smirked at her, continuing to jerk at himself as he watched her roll her eyes and scoff at him. Oh if only she fucking knew. "Don’t fucking call me again, Steve. Lose my fucking number in that stupid little phone book of yours!” she yelled out, he could see tears pooling in the corners of her eyes as she stormed out of his room and down the stairs, hearing the front door slam shut as Claire From Chem Class left.

He knew he should feel bad, he’d clearly hurt her feelings. But he really didn’t. He’d literally just wanted to fuck her, dump his cum inside her or over her tits or something and then kick her out anyway.

He shrugged to himself, getting up and going over to the panties that she’d not even bothered to look for, taking them in his hand as he lay back against his headboard, wrapping them tightly around his cock and biting his lip, bucking up into his fist as he continued his fantasies about you, openly moaning your name and other disgusting things, rather than just thinking them, now that he was alone.

“Mmm.. you wouldn’t storm out if I said another girls name, would you baby? No, you wouldn’t, you'd be too fucking cockdrunk and gone for me.. Too fucked out with me licking your cunt, making you cum as many times as I could before splitting you open with my dick, you'd take it all baby, wouldn't you?.."

"I need to fuck you so bad, I don’t care if you have a boyfriend or if he knows or not, I need to be inside that fuckin’ dripping hole, need to feel it for myself.."

"Maybe you'd let me in your ass too, oh god, bet s'just as perfect as your pussy, you gonna show that to me too honey? Come on, spread those cheeks for me and lemme see, oh fuck.."

It wasn’t soon after that he was spilling out into the blue lace snug around his length and his hand, moaning out your name loudly. And it wasn’t the first time tonight he’d cum thinking about you. He had to throw those panties out with how many times he’d jizzed all over them while he thought about you and fucking every hole of yours available to him.

The next day at school, people were definitely talking. And Steve wasn’t sure why. He watched a few people whisper and look at him before quickly averting their gaze when he made eye contact. What the hell? He looked at them all confused, watching as a couple people walked by him and held their heads down, giggling as they did so. He sighed to himself, thinking that Carol was spreading more shit around the school about him.

He’d fucked her a few times behind Tommy H’s back, she’d said she was gonna leave Tommy for him because she loved him, Steve laughed at her and told her not to bother. She obviously didn’t take that too well and ended up making up some.. quite honestly entertaining and colourful rumours about Steve and the kind of things he was into. He’d set everyone straight when he revealed the real reason she’d been talking shit, Carol trying to deny that anything happened between her and Steve, but it was written all over her face.

Tommy dumped her on the spot and she chased after him, begging and crying for him to forgive her, saying that it didn’t mean anything, which is clearly not what she’d been saying before.

So he thought nothing of it, thinking she’d started up her hate campaign again because Tommy still wouldn’t take her back. The old rumours were quickly squashed by some other girls confirming that he definitely wasn’t into what she'd said he was and definitely didn’t have a piss kink. Okay, maybe the last one was up for debate a little, since he really did like it when he had girls squirting all over his hands, his cock or his face and he wasn’t sure if that was practically the same thing or not. He’d have to look into it to be totally sure.

He made his way over to his locker, not paying any more mind to the people around him, mentally shrugging it off since he really doesn’t care at the end of the day. He’ll still The King. He was practically untouchable, really. If he could deal with Billy Hargrove literally trying to dethrone him the minute he got here, and it still hadn’t happened? Then nothing could. He opened his locker and began shoving some random shit in there from his bag, picking up a calculus book that he knew he needed for class this afternoon so he wouldn’t need to come back later.

“HARRINGTON!” Eddie barked, turning the corner and immediately finding the exact fucking gross pervert he’d been looking for. He looked fucking livid, clenching his fists by his side as he stormed up to him, his big boots stomping along the linoleum.

Steve turned his head as he heard the angry voice calling his name, freezing on the spot. He wasn’t scared of Eddie, even if he did look a little intimidating and there were rumours about him being a Satan worshipper and a cult leader because of that little D&D club he ran. But the way he was coming towards him, looking a bit unhinged like was ready to kill someone, did give Steve a slight cause for concern. Shit, had you told him? Had he finally found out that you’d been making eyes at Steve behind his back while he jerked off and watched Eddie fuck you?

“Munson, what can I do for you? You look a bit.. pissed off, but that's nothing new really is it?” he laughed a little, shutting over his locker. He was about to turn around when he felt a hand grab at the collar of his shirt, dragging him along and into the empty classroom that was right across the hall from his locker.

Okay, maybe he was a little scared now.

Eddie threw him into the room and Steve stumbled a little, turning around to fix his shirt and brush himself off as he looked at the tall metalhead who was slamming the door shut and locking it, turning to face him again and slowly stepping towards the slightly shorter boy. Steve wasn’t scared at all now, he was just fucking annoyed. “What the fuck Munson?! Who the fuck do you think you’re laying your hands on?” he said, stepping closer to him and poking him in the chest as he did so.

“Whats this I just fucking heard about you fucking Claire Quinn last night, but moaning my girls fucking name while you were doing her?” he spat confidently, his jaw clenching tightly as he finished his sentence.

"Oh that was her name. Claire Quinn." Steve chuckled a little meanly. "Just had her down as Claire from Chem Class"

Eddie was well known to be protective and possessive over you. He didn’t like any guy looking at you for a little too long or in a certain way, always pulling you closer to him and giving them death stares. Sometimes it’d get the better of him though and he’d get physical with these guys depending on what they said or did. He’d punched Gareth once for saying that he thought you looked nice today. He soon apologised to him, realising that Gareth was actually just being nice. He'd smacked a cafeteria tray across Jason Carvers face once when he smiled at you. He didn't apologise to him.

The random guy that one time in The Hideout who grabbed your ass and said that your boyfriend didn’t need to know about it if you went home with him (when said boyfriend was stood right behind him as he said it) even after you'd told him you really weren't interested, deserved the broken nose, the missing tooth and both of you being banned from coming back for a month. It was worth missing a few gigs to Eddie, to know he’d successfully protected what was his. You’d ridden him in the back of his van 5 minutes later too, so he knew it’d turned you on and you liked it.

Steve just looked at him, blinking at him for a second before he burst out laughing, walking over to a desk and leaning back against it, folding his arms over his chest as he shook his head. “So that's what everyones been talking about huh?” he laughed quietly again, shrugging his shoulders and smirking at Eddie. “And what if I did?”

“Don’t fucking play with me, Steve. I really do not give a fuck who you are around here, I will knock your fucking teeth out if you even think about my girl again” he stepped right up to him, pointing a finger in his smarmy fucking face. Usually people would retreat by now, as soon as Eddie bared his teeth to them.

But Steve wasn’t. He continued smirking at him, keeping eye contact and Eddie was a little intimidated himself. After all Steve Harrington was the most popular guy in school and Eddie was literally fucking getting all up in his personal space right now. He could have Eddie’s life ruined in a simple trip to see Chief Hopper and a few mentions of the illicit substances that Eddie was well known around school to be in possession of at almost all times.

“You know you won’t” Steve grinned at him, licking across his teeth a little. “Come on, what's so bad about me thinking about your girl? I mean… I’ve already seen you two fucking behind the gym block”

The colour drained from Eddie’s face. Looking at him with wide eyes, blinking as he processed exactly what he’d just said. Fuck. Was he lying? No, he can't be. No one knew you had both been there or what you'd done. How much exactly had he seen? He scoffed, shaking his head and throwing his hands up in the air as he turned his back to him, slowly stepping away as he tried to think of what to do here.

He was even more annoyed now, especially since he knows for a fact that Steve had seen you in one of your most intimate moments with Eddie. But he also knew if he did to him what he did to that dude from The Hideout, he’d be immediately expelled and he would never graduate. He really needed that fucking diploma this year, he’d already had a do over. He absolutely couldn't do another.

Steve knew he had too much on the line to try anything, at least in school. But they didn’t really cross paths outside. Not really even at parties, since he usually made some girl get his weed for him, thinking he’d be able to get a discount if he did so. And just purely because he knew he could get certain girls to do anything for him and it amused him. “I mean, your girl totally enjoyed it. Shoulda seen the way she was looking at me, licking her lips and shit while I jerked off, she came quite a lot didn’t she? She ever squirted like that with you before? Nice puddle left behind, I'd have got on my knees and fucking drank it from her cunt if I coulda” he laughed, deciding he wanted to poke the bear a little

That was it. Eddie's vision went completely red, he was suddenly like a bull and Steve was the matador.

He turned around and charged towards him, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and slamming his back up against the nearest wall, punching him quickly and getting right into his face, almost touching as Steve laughs in his face with his eyes screwed shut, his nose aching from the ring clad fist that just smacked into it. “Don’t you fucking dare say that shit about her. She’d never do that shit. I fucking know my girl and she’s not fucking like that” he growled at him through gritted teeth, watching as Steve lifted a finger up, swiping the tiny amount of blood dripping from his nostril now and continued laughing in his face.

“I’m serious, ask her. She sat there and watched me and she didn’t say shit to you the whole time, she was fucking loving it to making all those noises for both of us” he said, still chuckling a little as he saw Eddie rear up to punch him again. Okay, time to try and deescalate a bit, he was really pushing his buttons and maybe going a little too far here. “Ask her! Just ask her first before you beat my ass, fuck dude" he laughed loudly again, watching as Eddie leaned back a bit, still keeping him pinned to the wall but lowering his other fist. “I know I'm laughing but I'm deadly serious, you need to ask her about it”

Eddie was still raging inside. But as he thought about it, now he was a little angry at you too, not just Steve. Why hadn’t you said anything to him? You had been the one who was so scared about someone catching you that day. So why hadn’t you said a fucking word to him when Steve had inevitably seen you both? He was a tiny bit hurt too, that you willingly let someone watch you both having sex. Especially Steve Harrington, one of the most attractive guys in school, probably in Hawkins actually. Even Eddie thought so, despite the fact he’d absolutely never admit to it.

He stepped back a bit more, letting go of Steve's shirt as he sighed and rubbed his hand over his face, trying to think of exactly how he was going to ask you about this. Trying to decide how he was going to deal with him, now he didn’t know if he actually had a good reason to be violent like he wanted to be.

“What’s it gonna take for you to leave my girlfriend alone and not look at her or.. Or even think about her anymore?” he asked, rubbing at his stubbly chin and finally looking at the annoyingly handsome brown haired boy who was currently trying to fix himself up a little.

Steve scoffed, shaking his head as he fished out a tissue from his bag. “You’re not gonna fucking like what my honest answer would be to that question, Munson. And I’m not exactly thrilled at the possibility of another knuckle sandwich” he chuckled slightly, finally finding a hanky and wiping his nose with it, shoving it back in his bag and ruffling his hand through his hair.

“Just fucking say it, I really don’t fucking care, you’ve already said enough” Eddie sighed a little defeatedly, shaking his head as he turned his gaze to look out the window, crossing his arms over his chest. He was honestly still trying to process what Steve had just told him.

He really couldn’t get over the thought of you just letting someone perv on the two of you and get off to it, encouraging it. And he was also slightly confused about the fact that he thinks he would have found it hot having someone watch, if you had told him at the time. It made his blood boil and his dick twitch all at the same time. This was definitely something he’d have to unpack later on.

Steve studied him as he leaned back on the desk again, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets, crossing his ankles over one another. He thought about it for a second, whether to actually say it or not. He absolutely didn’t need to think about what he wanted to do to you, what it would take. He’d been thinking about that for a whole fucking week now already since he first saw you both. And he’d always fantasised about you anyway, since he’d never even had a chance to get into your panties.

You’d been inseparable from Eddie since pretty much the first week you’d moved to Hawkins, even if you’d only been friends for a few months before you got together. Eddie had made sure of it that no one even got a look in, since he’d fallen in love with you the moment he saw you.

“I wanna fuck her. That's what it'd take. Just once, and then I’ll leave you both alone. If I happen to catch you guys getting it on again, I’ll walk away. It’ll probably make me stop thinking about her too, it’ll be out of my system or something” He fucking wouldn’t stop thinking about you, he never would. You were literally the one thing he couldn’t ever have and that made you even more desirable to him. And Steve wasn’t one to give up without a bit of a fight to get what he wanted. At least if he got to fuck you, he’d be able to dig up the memories while he jerked off or fucked some other girl.

Eddies head snapped round at him as soon as he said he wanted to fuck you, staring at him in complete fucking disbelief. He burst out laughing and shook his head. “Not a fucking chance in hell, Harrington. You can get that idea so fucking far out of your head” he chuckled, staring the boy down as he licked across his teeth and clenched his jaw again. Who the fuck did this asshole think he was? He’d just punched him in the face for saying shit about you, did he seriously think he’d just give you to him, like he was loaning him a guitar or something, and let him rail you?

Steve shrugged, looking down at his shoes as he toed a scuff mark off the side of one of them. “Then at least let me watch again” he said matter of factly, shrugging as he smirked and looked back at Eddie. “One last time, then I swear I won’t bother the lovely couple ever again” he chuckled, rolling his eyes at how ridiculous that sounded.

Eddie stared at him, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue as he mulled it over. He really fucking didn’t want to let him watch. He didn't want him to see you as you fell apart under Eddie's touch again. But he also kinda really did? Besides, it would be a one off thing. And it’d keep Steve away from you. If you’d really already let him watch before, then he’d already seen everything…

“Okay, fine,” Eddie said quietly, throwing his hands in the air in surrender. “One fucking time. But I swear to god Harrington…” he stalked towards him, pointing a long thick finger at him. Steve wonders if he got close enough if he’d be able to smell you off of his fingers still, from the last time they’d been plunged inside you. “If I even so much as hear a single fucking thing of you saying her name again or talking about her or.. Or.. you even so much as breathing near her.. I’ll do worse than punch you in that big fuckin' nose again"

Steve smirked at him, keeping eye contact as he narrowed his slightly, licking at his lips slowly and not missing the way the tall metalheads eyes linger on them for a second too long. He felt his cock kick up in his jeans at the mere suggestion of seeing you exposed to him again. He’d have to go deal with that before class. He's sure he has a Polaroid or two of Pam in his bag that he stole from her bedroom the last time he fucked her that he could use as quick spank material.

“Deal.” he said, grabbing hold of Eddie's hand and shaking it, startling the long haired boy slightly. “Just let me know where and when, Munson. If that's all and we’re done here..” Steve said, grinning at him as he leaned down and picked up his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder as he patted the metalhead on his own a little patronisingly, making his way over to the door and leaving the room, heading down the hallway to get rid of the now uncomfortable bulge he was packing in his pants.

He had a smug fucking smile on his face the whole way to bathroom, thinking of how he would soon see your perfect body again.

Hopefully you'd love his eyes on you while you're spread out and being made to cum as much as you did last time.

I'd like to thank @elvendria @changemunson and @emsgoodthinkin for their help and encouragement on this chapter. I really REALLY could not have done it without you all, especially Elvendria who had to sit and listen to me have a fucking Menty B over a discord call because of some stuff that's now gonna be in part 3 lmfao.

Banner by me, dividers by @saradika

Taglist: @aol19 @thewillowsareskipping @htycp890 @sllooney @justmeinadaze @inesven @tlclick73 @munsonslure @madaboutjoe @falling-throughthe-hourglass @hazzaismyreligion @jjmaybankswifes-blog @lilianraynne @moonflower1387 @eddiesguitarskills @ancientcrone-blog @dovakinbruh @sameyessblue @love-me-satoru @peach97 @org12 @fireflyislands @5tud10-54r4h @kennzie @myfavoritesareproblematic @emsgoodthinkin @lunakitty2608 @hideoutside @thegothicfox @kelseyms-world @bandaids-n-porcelain

[melissa-kenobi]

🎃 Kinktober 2024 🎃 Peter Parker + Sex Pollen

Waheeyyy, 2nd part of Kinktober, we've got Peter Parker up next!

Under 18s, DNI

Warnings: Breeding, Web Fluid, Dirty Talk, Sex Pollen, Possessiveness.

Word Count:

🎃 Kinktober 2024 MasterList 🎃

***

Peter was causally making this way through the room filled with hunters. His spidey instincts were on fire, and every inch of him itched to rid his city of these people. But he couldn't, not now. He had a job to do, to find Kraven.

He made his way through the Hunters, making sure that he maintained his cover as a waiter trying to serve Mr Kravinoffs bodyguard.

Peter was getting anxious. He carried the platter on one hand before heading through the door, looking behind before rushing inside and accidentally bumping into the other servers.

"Oh no! I'm so sorry!" Peter apologises, putting the platter down, trying to help before the other waiter yells at him for not looking where he was going.

"Hey! Why don't you watch where you're going?"

"I'm sorry!" Peter apologises and backs up before the doors open again, and another waiter crashes into the two of them, making the tables topple over each other. The waiter curses and yells at the other man, making Peter's eyes go wide at the mess.

Quickly scanning the area for an out, he spots the elevator.

Bingo.

Peter backtracks to the elevator, hoping that he will finally find Kraven. Once the elevator reaches the final stop Peter hesitantly steps out eyes flickering around before he senses there's no-one there.

"All clear." He whispers to himself as he stalks around the room, noticing all the trophys and animal heads hung up as prizes, "Spider-Spy to the rescue."

"Spider-Spy? Really?" A sickly sweet voice echoes from behind him.

In an instant, Peter feels the hairs on his arms stand up as he whips around, only to come face to face with a real-life tiger.

"Hey, so at least you're real and alive..." Peter mummers under his breath, eyes wide before they fall upon a female hunter sat atop the tiger, watching Peter carefully. Needing to be cautious, Peter casts a glance at female hunter.

"I've been watching you, Spider-Man. You're not as slick as you think you are." You say before flipping off the tiger and standing right in front of Peter. You'd been watching the little spider make his rounds. You had to admit was pretty fit under that mask of his. He had a cute, handsome face. "You ought to be more careful with the way you walk around, you stuck out like a sore thumb."

Peter is slightly speechless, he thought he was more slick and undercover, "What do you want?"

"I want a lot of things little Spider, but mainly I want your head on a platter for Kraven." You say tilting your head at him whilst stroking the tiger, eyes still on the Spider.

"Well, I can't say its the first time I've heard that." Peter retorts, "How about I apologise and leave swiftly before you unleash that tiger on me and we pretend I was never here?"

"No can do." You say before lunging at him with your bladed knife. Peter swiftly jumps out the way, shooting a web at your arm which you block and flip over.

Your eyes follow the Spider's every move, waiting for him to throw another attack at you. Within seconds, he attacks, shooting web after web at you. You grimace as you dodge each and everyone but not before some of it lands on your thigh.

"That is disgusting. Is this stuff coming outta you?" You say as you swipe off the remains of his webs on your thigh.

Spider-Man shrugs, "It's complicated." He swings up in the air, being held up by one of his web as he hangs upside down, "Look I don't really want to hurt you."

"I do." You growl, eyes focused on his mask before gesturing for your tiger to approach. You watched as the eyes on his mask widened as he watched your tiger approach him, with a menacing glare.

"Hey kitty, good kitty..." Spider-Man said, slowly lifting himself up but not before you threw a knife at his web, instantly cutting through it, making the superhero tumble to the floor as he landed on a vase of something. The vase broke under the weight of Spider-Man, and a yellow puff of smoke erupted from it. Your tiger growled as she inched forwards in front of you, closer to the Spider, almost as if she was protecting you.

You inched closer, gently kicking at his thigh whilst he lay still on the broken vase. He didn't move.

Was he- Was he dead?

You moved closer and bent down to look at him, "Hey- wake up. You can't die that easy." Sighing, you got up to grab some rope to tie the Spider up only to turn around and find that he was gone.

"Fuck- where'd he go?" You spin around to ask your tiger only to find that she too was gone. You curse under your breath as you find your animal gone and the smell of meat lingering. Shit, he had gotten rid of her too.

Before you knew it, you were being swung in the room and webbed up against the wall, and Spider-Man hanging above you as he slowly decended and watched you. You growled as you tried to rid yourself from the webs.

"Let me go." You hiss at him, noticing a slight change in his demeanour.

"Where is Kraven?" He growls, tone darker and voice more gravely as he inched closer to you, pressing his chest to yours. He traced your face with his finger, swiping at the yellow substance.

"You'll never find out from me." You smirk, taking in the yellow powder that coated the bottom half of his suit. You sniffed the air only to cough and spit out the scent. Your eyes fell upon a bulge that was poking through the crotch element of his suit, "Oh fuck-"

Of course he had to fall into that pot.

"Look- Spidey, you're not well. You need to- "You begin to say before you're cut off by him sniffing at your neck. He lifted the bottom half of his mask off and kissed at your throat, moaning softly at your sweet scent.

"You- what did you do to me? I feel-" He hisses, sniffing at your neck, loving the smell of you. It surrounded him like a hoard of bees. The sweet, tangy scent of you was stuck in his mind, in his head, he ached to feel it around his cock, "What is that? It smells so good. You smell so good."

"I-" You begun but was cut off as Spider-Man pushed his lower body against you, slowly rutting his hips against your thigh, "Wait- Spider-Man, you don't want this."

"What was that substance I fell into?" He growls in your ear. Fuck that was hot. Nope. No you shouldn't be- oh shit, now you were going to be affected too.

"It was the pheromones from a plant. A very dangerous plant, one that Kraven used to use to help our population increase." You admit, suddenly feeling your core ache and become wet.

"What does that mean?" He growls again, still not understanding. He moves back a little bit, but not enough to give you room to escape.

You watch his reaction, almost as if he was having a mental conversation with himself about something. His head tilts as he mutters to himself, "Ours?"

Suddenly, his eyes fall upon you, "Her?" He says, sniffing and licking at your neck once more.

"Mine." He growls once more in that low baritone voice, one that sounded so unlike the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man you had seen. He rips his mask off before lunging forward and sucking on your neck, almost possessively. His hands tear at your outfit, ripping it to shreds leaving you exposed whilst his own suit opened up to reveal his cock.

"Holy fuck-" You curse, eyes widening with shock as you watch him pump his cock. That thing was huge, and leaky and red and angry. Fuck, the pollen must have really affected him.

He glances at you before positioning his cock against your lower lips, the head of his cock tapping light against your clit making you moan softly.

"Soaked." He whispers in awe whilst sliding his cock back and forth between your lips before plunging himself in, in one go. You scream and roll your head back against the wall as he penetrates your pussy.

He moves with quick rapid thrusts, not caring at all about your pleasure, only wanting to find his release, and if you weren't so horny you would care. But you enjoyed the way he filled out your pussy, the way you could feel him in your stomach, almost as if he was going to break you. His thick length pushes against your walls, and you loved the way it hurt but felt so good. You wanted more of him.

Peter wasn't holding back. He wanted you. His instincts wanted him to breed you, to fill you, to claim you. You were his, and this was the only way. He didn't care that you were one of Kravens hunters. You were his now. Reaching his peak, he gripped your throat gently, pulling you to his lips before placing a soft kiss on them.

"Mine. You belong to us." He whispered before letting out a low growl of your name and filling you with his cum.

***

[ibetonlosinghuskies]

patience and pleasure pt 6

summary: as paige packs to move to uconn, she starts to doubt herself. grasping for a sense of security, she goes to the one person she knows can make her feel better. azzi.

disclaimer: as always everything i write is fictional!

warnings: fluff, angst, emotional distress, mild anxiety mention.

word count: 4.6k +

author's note: ik this probably isn't what you were expecting lol, very sorry. i will be giving yall what you want very soon.

~flashback to july 2020~

paige's pov:

i can't believe i'm doing this.

playing at uconn has been my dream since i was a kid, but now that it's finally happening i feel paralyzed. packing my stuff made things feel final.

i'm really leaving minnesota. everything i know is here.

who's going to build legos with drew? who's going to make my parents coffee in the morning?

my hands shake as i fold another shirt, memories flooding my mind. friday night games, late-night drives with the team, sunday morning cartoons with drew.

what if i'm not ready? what if i can't handle the pressure?

i'd been doing a good job keeping all this to myself. putting on my best smile for every interview, every photoshoot. i had a good enough support system too, my family, friends, fans. but behind every "congratulation", i felt their expectation. a standard of perfection only a prodigy could fulfill.

what if i let everyone down?

i can't let them see me crack.

it's not like i'm not grateful for the opportunity. this is all i've worked towards for years. it just hurts to leave everything behind, especially for a future i had no control over. i felt safe here, in this moment, i'm full of potential.

the weight of my potential weighs heavily on my shoulders, keeping me up at night.

i sink to the floor, surrounded by half-packed boxes. part of me wants to unpack it all, to pretend that time isn't moving forward.

my eyes snap up when i hear a knock at my bedroom door.

"hey kiddo," my dad says warmly, leaning against the door frame.

"hey," i reply weakly, putting on a smile. i feel his eyes scan my face, his expression warming with sympathy.

he knows my smile is fake.

"already packing? you don't leave for another week, it shouldn't take you that l—" he stops mid-sentence looking at my closet. "but with that shoe collection maybe you should've started a month ago," he teases, trying to make me smile.

"i just want to be ready," i say, sounding more insecure than i expected.

"it's okay to be scared, you know?" he starts, his voice gentle. "i know this is a big change."

"i just don't wanna disappoint anyone," i stand, continuing to pack my stuff, eyes glued to the floor.

"you could never disappoint us," he assures me. "we're all so proud of you, no matter what."

a mix of gratitude and homesickness rushes over me. i crumble over his words, a few tears escaping my eyes. walking slowly, he grabs me in his arms. we stand there for a moment, the heaviness of change lingering in the air.

"you know," he says suddenly, "i think azzi's still in town at her grandparents. why don't you give her a call?"

he's right, i usually visit her around this time of year. the thought of azzi brings a small smile to my face. memories of our summers spent together fill my mind—trips to the fair, month long sleepovers, sleeping in her clothes.

"not everything has to change, paige," his voice knowing, eyes gauging my reaction.

if anyone could understand what i'm going through, i'd be her.

"yeah, i'll give her a call," i nod, trying to shake my heartache.

"good," he says, walking to my door. "don't forget to leave some of your shoes behind. we don't need the whole state of minnesota wondering why there's a shortage."

i roll my eyes, laughing. "i'll think about it."

he gives me one last warm smile before closing my door. i take a deep breath, reaching for my phone.

azzi's pov:

i'm sprawled across my bed, scrolling through my phone when it starts buzzing. paige's name lights up the screen, and i can't help but smile.

"hey p," i answer, my smile showing in my voice.

"hey az," she replies, and immediately i know something's off. her voice is quieter than usual, lacking its usual charm.

"you okay?" i ask, sitting up straighter.

there's a pause, i can almost feel her forcing a smile through the phone. "yeah, i'm good. just...packing."

packing. right. she's leaving soon.

i'm hit with a wave of anticipatory grief. i've been trying to avoid thinking about what it's gonna be like when she leaves. we'd fallen into such an easy routine. she's spent countless summers at my grandparent's house, becoming part of my family.

"how's that going?" i ask, trying to sound hopeful.

"it's...going," she laughs gently. "it's just a lot, you know?"

i do know. the spotlight she's received these past couple years has been intense, but paige made everything she did look effortless. her confidence carried off the court, giving her a new charisma.

she was so easy to love.

"yeah...it's a big change," my voice matching her quiet tone.

there's another pause, the soft hum of the phone. i listen for her breath, a sigh, some background noice. but nothing. i feel her worry through the phone.

"can i come over—"

"you should come ov—"

we say at the same time. "i'll pick you up tomorrow morning," i smile at the thought of finally getting to see her.

i hear her take a steadying breath, "okay," her voice sounding a bit lighter.

my mind starts to wander. what if i don't see her again for years after this? all this time, and i never thought i'd have to confront my feelings for her.

"hey, i'll call you later, okay?" i'm sad to end our call, but i didn't have time to waste.

"uh yeah," she says, sounding a bit disappointed. "talk to you later."

i hang up the phone, my mind racing, filled with all of her favorite things. that minnesota lynx jersey she loves, her favorite snacks, the lego sets she builds with drew.

i can't let her leave without knowing how much of me she's taking with her.

i start in my closet, sifting through my clothes. my fingers brush against the fabric of my favorite hoodie—the one paige always steals when she's here.

i pull the hoodie closer to my chest, hoping that, for a moment, i could capture the warmth of her hug. a mixture of my perfume and her shampoo. i swear no matter how many times i wash the damn thing, it always carries a piece of her. like the intricate stitching holding the fabric, our bond sewn into the core of who we are.

i run my fingers along the seams—strong, resilient, trustworthy. i guess some things are too deep to be washed away. maybe it'll remind her that no matter how far she goes, a part of us will always be intertwined.

she should have this. it's practically hers anyway.

next, i move to my bookshelf, scanning the titles. my eyes land on one of my favorite john green books, looking for alaska. every once in a while she'd ask me to read it to her so she could fall asleep. paige always claimed my books were boring, but sometimes i'd catch her leaning in, eyes wide and attentive, consumed in the story. maybe she'd finally get around to reading it herself.

lastly, i grab some scissors off my desk and head for my front porch. the old basketball hoop stands sentinel, a silent witness to countless hours of our shared passion. i run my fingers along the worn metal, remembering all the times we'd scrimmage until the streetlights flickered on. our laughter and trash talk echoing through the quiet neighborhood.

i tilt the hoop towards me cutting off a piece of the net. the frayed edges feel like memories slipping through my fingers.

she was my champion first.

before the world knew 'paige bueckers', i knew paige. the slight competitive spark she'd get in her eyes before every shot. her confident sway as she played, turning my front porch into an arena.

everyone is finally gonna see in her what i've known for years.

back in my room, i surveyed my collection. each item, a different memory. i reach under my bed, adding the final touch to my gift—an old lego set paige and i bought together a long time ago. i put off building it with her, claiming we should save it for a special night.

there is nothing more special than tomorrow night.

i want everything to be perfect. i find myself frantically cleaning the house at 2 am, as if paige hasn't visited countless times. i organize my bookshelf, fold clothes, anything to keep my hands busy and my mind from wandering to her.

my exhaustion finally takes over and i lay sprawled across my bed. i try to sleep but she's all i dream about.

except these aren't the usual dreams.

a sequence of different visions flash through my mind, in each of them i'm losing her. we're on a basketball court, but something's off. paige is wearing a uconn jersey, looking different in a way i can't quite place. older, more independent. i'm still in my high school uniform. we're on opposite sides of the court, the air between us heavy. i call out to her but no sound comes out.

i want to tell her something. but my throat tightens, restricting like it's trying to hold her too.

i wake up before the sun, in a cold sweat. it felt so real, almost predestined. a heavy ache in my chest lingers, still unable to articulate what i need to tell her. the thought of my nightmares becoming real ignites a motivation in me to figure it out. fast.

i close my eyes again, hoping for dreamless sleep this time.

tomorrow, i'll find the words. i'll make sure i do.

paige's pov:

the sun peaks through my blinds, waking me up earlier than usual. awaking to the sight of half-packed boxes leaves me disoriented. but my heart flutters when i check my phone to find seven unread text from azzi.

i'm gonna miss stuff like this the most.

glancing at the time, i start to pack a bag to stay the night. she technically didn't say i was sleeping over, but i know us well enough to know that i will.

i start throwing things into my bag—my favorite hoodie, some shorts, and a pillow. then i pause, remembering the last time we hung out at her grandparents' place.

everything i needed was already there.

i empty half the bag, smiling to myself. the hoodie she'd always let me wear, my toothbrush, that book azzi's always bugging me to read, even my favorite pillow. they're all still at her place.

i'm reaching for my phone to tell her i'm ready when i hear my doorbell. smoothing out my hair, i nearly trip down the stairs running to answer the door.

i take a quick breath. even after all this time, i still want to look good for her. the moment i open the front door i'm met with azzi's smile, carrying two coffees in her hands.

everything i need is right here.

"i'm surprised you're not still in your pajamas," she smiles, handing me a coffee.

"what? no, of course not. i've been up for hours," i lie, letting her roll her eyes at my comment.

"mhm," she turns walking to her car.

i glance at her while she walks, her attitude showing in her posture. within just a few seconds, i already feel lighter.

the drive there is both long and short. as we pull up to her grandparents' house, i feel a wave of nostalgia. how many summers have i spent here? how much of me will i be leaving behind?

azzi's grandma is already at the door as we get out of the car. "paigey!," she calls out, her voice warm and welcoming. "how's our little superstar?"

"hi grandma fudd," i mumble, as she pulls me into a hug. i feel like a kid again in her arms.

"look at you," she says, holding me at arm's length. "more beautiful every time i see you."

i blush bashfully at her compliments. "hey, what about me?" azzi pouts from behind us.

"oh hush, you too," she pulls azzi into a deep hug. "i'm glad you finally came, paige. i was worried you weren't gonna make it this year. azzi here hasn't stopped talking about you since your last visit."

i shoot azzi a look, raising my eyebrows at her. she blushes, looking away.

once inside, memories pass me by like a warm summer breeze. the creaky third step on the stairs, the faded marks on the doorframe where azzi and i measured our heights every summer. old family photos lining the hallway, many of which include me.

azzi leads me up to her room, her hand gently tugging at mine excitedly. i let her lead like it was my first time in this house.

as we enter her room, i can't help but notice how clean it looks. her bookshelf organized by size and color, desk clear and neat. i almost miss the messiness of it all, the way her personality leaked all over her bedroom walls.

had she cleaned everything for me?

i scan her bedroom walls, all of which are covered in photos of us. photos from practice, summer trips to the lake, championship games.

her bedroom a museum of us, a bold testament to our bond.

"you kept all of these?" i asked softly, touching the corner of a photo from years ago.

azzi shrugs, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. "of course," she clears her throat nervously. "only because i look so good in them," she laughs failing to hide her affection.

i turn to her, ready to tease her about being sentimental, but the words die on my lips. she's holding something behind her, smiling with her eyes.

she takes a deep breath, bringing her hands forward slowly. in them is a carefully wrapped package, similar to the half-packed boxes littering my floor at home.

"i, uh, got you this. well, more like...put together." she hands me the box.

my fingertips brush against hers, heart racing as i look up into her eyes. "az, you didn't have to—"

"just open it, p," she interrupts, her voice soft and eager.

i unwrap the box, finally catching sight of its contents. it feels like all of the air has been sucked out of the room, it's all too much for me. her favorite hoodie, a worn copy of looking for alaska, a piece of frayed net from the hoop on her porch. and...is that the lego set we bought a long time ago?

all pieces of us, delicately put together in a small brown box.

"az..." i whisper, blinking away tears.

"i wanted you to have a piece of home to take with you," she explains, her eyes seeking my reaction. "so you didn't forget me—us."

i look up at her, my vision blurring the edges around her face. a warmth in my heart builds, surrounded by fragments of us. the finality of it all finally hit me.

how can we pack all of us into a box? years spent together, inseparable for the longest time, just to be neatly packaged in a cardboard box.

there's still so much i want to take with me. how do you package the sound of azzi's laugh? the feeling of her hand in mine? how do i fold up the comfort of her presence and tuck it neatly into a suitcase?

our friendship is a living, breathing thing. packing it away feels inhumane. she will never be a cardboard box i push into the back of my closet, the back of my mind. azzi's warmth pulses underneath my skin. she's the movement that pushes the blood through my body.

i realize something now. home isn't minnesota. it isn't my house or even this one.

home is azzi. and i'm about to leave it behind.

the weight of this box, however light in pounds, pulls me to the floor. my knees buckling underneath me, unable to form a coherent sentence. i'm drowning in a sea of emotions, waves of nostalgia and fear crashing over me. i cry, clinging to the box, like a life vest. my breath comes in short gasps, like i'm barely keeping my head above water.

i hear her call my name, but i can't respond. her voice feels far, muffled by my own emotion. i want to reach out, to tell her i'm okay, but my body won't cooperate.

azzi's hoodie wraps around me like a buoy, keeping me from sinking into the depths of my fears. the book, a raft of memories. the piece of net becomes a rope, pulling me to the shore of home—to her.

i can feel her worry radiate off her in waves, matching the momentum of my fear.

azzi's my anchor, solid and hopeful, grounding me in this storm. her hands cup my face, holding me like water, wiping away the flood.

her touch is gentle, safe. i lean into it instinctively, she always knows how to bring me back to myself.

looking up, i meet azzi's gaze. her eyes are a mirror of my own—a mix of worry, empathy, and something deeper. something that's been left unspoken between the two of us for a long time.

i feel her eyes search my face, a warmth that cuts through the chill of my tears.

azzi's looking at me like i'm her anchor too like she's just as terrified of drifting apart.

"paige, look at me," she says softly, also crying, wiping away my tears before her own.

i force myself to focus on her face. the wetness of her eyelashes, the trembling of her breath, her flushed cheeks—anything to slow my thoughts.

she sits on her knees, catching my tears in her palms. "you're not losing me, okay?" her voice reassuring, but also breaking between her tears.

"okay," i mumble sniffling. before i can thank her or apologize, she pulls my forehead to her lips. they tremble softly against my skin, her sadness showing but insistent on soothing me first.

azzi pulls my head into her chest, stroking my hair gently. i wrap my arms around her waist firmly, thinking that maybe if i hold her tightly enough, i can keep her here—in this moment, forever.

my tears begin to settle as i focus on her heartbeat, trying to memorize it. each beat a resilient promise, a faint whisper of trust, something to hold on to.

we stay there for a moment before azzi pulls back, staring at me with such a tenderness it almost sets me off again.

my eyes fall on the lego set peeking out of the box, and i can't let but let out a shaky laugh. "you're finally letting me build this," i smile, "it only took me almost moving away, huh?"

azzi's face breaks into a small grin, relief showing in her eyes. "like i'd trust you to build it on your own. someone's gotta make sure you read the instructions."

"hey!" i gasp in mock offense. "instructions are for people who don't know what they're doing, i'm a professional lego architect."

"oh we'll see about that," she jabs, opening the box.

azzi's pov:

as we build the lego set together, i can't help but steal glances at paige. i read the instructions to her but she's definitely not listening. already working at the pieces, her focus is unbreakable. her tongue pokes out slightly as she concentrates. it's so quintessentially her, it makes my heart ache.

the day passes by in a blur of laughter and shared memories. it isn't until i notice how dark my room has gotten that i realize we've spent hours on my bedroom floor.

"see, i don't need instructions," paige says, proudly showing off the part she's assembled.

"yeah, whatever," i laugh, admiring her confidence.

we're interrupted by a soft knock at my door, the scent of fresh-baked cookies wafts from behind the door. i open the door to my grandma, always the perfect host, holding a plate of chocolate chip cookies.

she smiles warmly, "i thought you two might want a cookie break."

paige lunges up from the floor almost pushing me over, reaching for the plate. "you're gonna have to send some of these to connecticut," she says, between mouthfuls.

she laughs at her comment, "i wanted to give you this also," in her other hand she hands me an old film camera. "maybe you can capture something special," she smiles before closing the door.

"your grandma makes the best cookies," paige's voice muffled under the sound of her chewing.

before she can react, i snap a photo of her. the camera clicking in a way that makes me giggle.

"hey, i wasn't ready!" she snatches the camera out of my hands. "you're always the model anyways," she says, snapping a photo of me.

i give her a fake smile, still reaching for the camera. "happy now? give it back," i laugh, chasing her around my room.

"not until you give me a real smile," she holds the camera above her head.

"that's not gonna work, we're the same height, stupid," i reach for the camera nearly knocking it out of her hands.

"one picture, with a smile," she takes the camera up to her eye to look through the viewfinder.

i give her another impatient smile. she kneels down dramatically, shifting back and forth while snapping photos.

"okay, my turn," i reach for the camera again.

"these aren't real smiles," she pokes my side, making me giggle. "see there it is, hold still."

i drop my smile and pout dramatically. paige moves the camera away from her face and lunges towards me, jabbing at my sides. "stop, paige," i giggle, swatting at her hands.

she dodges me, her fingers continue relentlessly. i push her onto my bed, using my body weight to keep her still. we fight for a moment squirming around my mattress before i pin both of her wrists down. satisfied, i grin down at her. our laughter comes to a soft stop and we're both breathless.

"see, was that so hard?" paige tilts her head to the side, still out of breath. she attempts to reach her hands up again but i tighten my grip.

"oh, whatever," i roll my eyes, leaning closer to her, my hair draping over her face.

"can i tell you something?" she starts, her voice sounding a bit more serious.

"hm?" i respond, still satisfied i could hold her still.

paige hesitates for a moment, her eyes searching mine. "i've never actually had my first kiss," her cheeks flushing a light pink. "i thought i would've by now, before college, you know?"

i loosen my grip on her wrist, "oh, i had no idea. i figured plenty of guys would be lining up to kiss the paige bueckers," i tease.

"i guess," she looks away bashfully, "i just want it to be with someone special. someone i care about," her voice lowering to a whisper.

there's a silence that hangs between us. i feel my heart pounding in my chest. "like who?" i ask quietly.

i need to hear her say it.

her eyes flicker to my lips briefly before meeting my eyes again. "like...you," she says nervously, almost asking it like a question.

was she saying what i think she was?

"really?" i lean closer to her, my eyes wide and hopeful.

she lets out a nervous breath, her eyes intently locked on my lips. "yeah," she whispers, blinking quickly.

before i can overthink it, she leans in, closing the gap between us. her lips meet mine softly, and my hands reach for her face. i feel a nervous tremble in her lips, soft and warm. the pure flavor of her lips, tasting like vanilla and chocolate. her hands move to my waist, her thumb swaying slightly. we move slowly, gently, not wanting to rush this moment.

our kiss is tender like a warm summer night. her lips move sweetly and determined like she's thought of this before. her hands stroking softly saying "i've wanted this. wanted you."

when she pulls back i feel a new kind of emptiness. how am i going to live with the absence of her touch? she's opened a crack in my heart, long enough for the light to come in.

kissing paige was like sunlight embodied.

we stare at each other for a moment. caught in this new in-between.

what do you say after you kiss your best friend? how do you tell her it was your first kiss too?

"i'm glad it was you," she smiles, sitting up.

"yeah, me too," i murmur, my voice full of emotion. i lean to the side, still dazed from her touch.

"it's getting late, we should probably—" she starts.

"yeah...um," i respond uneasily, standing up to walk over to my closet. i grab one of my old t-shirts and a pair of shorts. "you can wear these to sleep in."

paige takes the clothes from me, her fingers brushing against mine. when we touch this time, it feels different, heavier. she heads to the bathroom to change, and i let out a breath i didn't know i was holding in.

even being just a room over, it feels like she's slipping through my fingers. i'm reminded of my nightmares from last night, paralyzed by the thought of losing her.

i need to tell her.

i grab a piece of paper and pen off my desk, my hands quivering slightly as i start to write.

the first part of the letter flows easily. but as i continue, i feel a shift. the truth hanging in the space between my pen and the paper.

she deserves the truth. and i owe it to myself, to finally tell her.

my heart races, searching for the right words as i continue...

i reread the letter, feeling vulnerable under my own words.

what if this ruins everything? what if she doesn't feel the same way?

i glance at my bedroom door, knowing paige could return at any moment. the panic sets in and i make a split-second decision. my hands shake as i tear the paper in half.

the first part, full of friendship and encouragement. it's a bit more sentimental than usual but not enough to make her suspect anything. i fold it neatly, placing it atop the other objects in the box. it's safe, expected.

the second part, my true feelings for her. i can't bring myself to throw it away, but i'm not ready for her to read it either. i tuck the small slip into the final pages of the last chapter of the book i'm giving her.

maybe one day i'll find the courage to tell her. maybe someday she'll finish the book and know how i really feel. but for now, this feels safe.

i don't know if i'm hoping she finds it or not.

as i hear the bathroom door open, i quickly close the book, sealing my fate. my heart pounds with the weight of my unspoken words.

my thoughts cease when i see her in my clothes. she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, looking unabashedly herself. for a moment, i see our future. imagining our closets becoming one, holding her as she falls asleep, an endless sleepover.

how am i supposed to let her go?

she catches me staring and smiles softly, a knowing glint in her eyes that makes my heart ache. without speaking, we settle into our usual routine. i let her sleep on my favorite side of the bed, she shifts around, trying to get comfortable. eventually, she turns on her side, her back facing me.

right before i drift off to sleep, i hear her call out to me. "azzi," she whispers softly into the dark.

"hm?" i answer, struggling to keep my eyes open.

"can you hold me?"

her voice gentle and vulnerable, as if i could hold every piece of her together. "of course," i wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her in closer. she sinks into my touch, her breath slows.

she drifts to sleep quickly in my arms, our heartbeats syncing. the weight of our unspoken words between us, laying heavily on my chest, pushing me towards a deep sleep.

i dream of never having to let her go.

[dood-itsradical]

Same Difference.

Pairing: Jake Kim x F!Reader

Summary: Never the one to speak of your father, Jake beat you up to it. Finding the irony of the situation.

Genre/Trope: Fluff, established relationship, friends to lovers.

Details: 1.1k words, tomboy!reader, f/name stands for father's name, reader's dad is gen 0 hotshot.

A/n: It's only been two days since I last posted. I'm just itching to write/post and not doing it actually makes me tweak. I love feeding y'all 😔 As always I don't do requests.

Masterlist

"Hellooo...! Earth to (Name)."

The snapping finger finally released yourself from your daydream.

"Huh?" You turned to Jake. "Oh, sup J." You brushed your hair back.

"You alright? How far are you?" He leaned on the desk to your side. You shake you head, ignoring his question. "Sorry, what were we talking about?"

"Right." He nodded, decided not to pry on you further. He gestured the boxes and files, "You were helping me getting rid of these junks?"

Giving him a weird look as you put two and two together since it's obvious that he could've just given this task to anyone.

"If you wanna hang you could've just said so, you know." You deadpanned.

He shrugged innocently, "Guilty but I wanna be careful. See if there's some stuff I might wanna keep."

You grimaced, pulling a grin. "Might."

"Might." He cringed. "Because see this." He pulled out old photos to you. Most of them were Gapryong Kim, no doubt. Few were him with other folks.

You took them from his hand, looking closely for yourself, "What are you hoping to find? I thought you hated the guy."

"Can't a guy look around without feeling bitter? I ain't a sissy."

His casual reply made you rolled your eyes. But you get him. And good for him for getting over the grudge. Or not. It's no rocket science that he's just hiding it for the sake of his image. Especially to you. To anyone, really.

"Huh."

"What?" You turned at him.

"Didn't know he and (F/Name) knew each other. Not surprised but, damn."

Your brows lit up but luckily he didn't notice. You leaned closer towards him to take a good look at what he meant. And well what'd you know? His old man and your old man standing together.

"You...know him?" Jake nodded, "Not much. But I heard enough. I always wanna learn (F/Name) fighting style. That fist. I just couldn't get it right." He formed his own fist, demonstrating his failed attempt.

Your gaze trailed at his body posture curiosity. You take notes to what he lack. Almost as if you're be able to scan him right here and then.

"Like this." You instead automatically showed him how it's done without feeling like you're showing off. You aren't. You're just show what you know. So forming a fist of your own, you leaned your upper body forward slightly and push the air, mimicking a subtle punch.

"This?" He followed you, again still getting it wrong. You shook your head, scratching your neck, "It's a bit complicated. I don't know how to explain."

Jake grinned and relaxed his body once more. "Don't be like that. Teach me. You know didn't you? I've never seen you kick ass up close before, it's not fair."

You only chuckled and continue with the junks. But does he stop talking about (F/Name) after that? No. And it confuses you. What did he see in your father that you don't? To you, he was just a guy with knowledge to pass down before he grow old. But an old fashioned influencer? You legit thought the guy was a nobody. He was an isolated man. Respect or feared by many. Never in your life thinking he'd get out there. Let alone having friends. Friends are too generous. Colleagues are more like it.

"Does he...have any kid?" You didn't know why you asked that, but you were mindful enough be vague about it. You were quite curious now that you know your pop was, or still is a big shot. Might as well use the privilege by hearing it from Jake.

He nodded, tossing the papers into the burning barrel. "One. A son. Never seen him. People said he's good too. His first kill was when he was nine."

Your face hardened. First kill. Nine years old. You really didn't wanna hear about that. Seems like words do come around here. And a son. People refer you as 'the son'. It makes you wonder if that's what your father rather see you as or you just look like one. Besides, you hardly get by proper friends back then. Son or daughter, same difference. They were all afraid of him. The thought still makes you slightly somber. Your movement slowed.

Jake notices but continue, "Got something you wanna share? I won't bite. I'll get it if you have a bitter pasts with him. Consider how knowledgeable you are." He tossed the last one in his hands then sit down on a portable chair. "But I'm curious about what you've learnt. Hell, I'm not gonna lie, I'm very curious. So...why not be a doll and share it? With your favourite boy Jakey?"

Your solemnity faded, replaced with a snicker, "'Jakey'? You really know how to persuade me. You persuade better than girls do."

"Yes, well, it's part of the big deal." He lays out his one-liner like winning an award. You laughed, tossing the papers towards him but missed completely as they flew to the opposite direction. "Oh my God. You're not gonna stop using that, are you?"

He laughed with you, leaning back only to lose his balance and landed his back on the ground. You both shared another round of laughter.

"Okay but seriously. I can't know?" He kept himself laying on the ground for a bit, eyes stayed on you.

"I never said that. I'll be honoured to teach you." You sighed, stretching your arms. "Besides, I hate to keep you in the dark. We're friends-"

"Boyfriend and girlfriend." He quickly corrects you.

"Right, sorry. And I'm too guilty for not telling you that (F/Name) is actually my dad."

He nodded, "Yeah, I totally get that. I'd be to- wait." He paused, "...What??" now standing up to look at you properly. He comes forward and grasps your shoulder firmly with intense eyes. "Please. Teach me."

Save to say he took it pretty well. And as promised during your spare time you spar with him by teaching him what your father had taught you. Seeing him so concentrate surely piqued your interest. You have so much to focus on. From fixing his postures and techniques to his constant shirtless, sweaty, covered-in-tattooed self.

"That's it for today." You exhaled, wiping your sweat with a cloth.

"You go ahead, I'll meet you inside later." He insisted. But you didn't leave yet. "You could use the break too. I hate to...hit the shower alone." You muttered, hoping he didn't hear that part. But he did, now staring at you like a deer caught in a headlight. Now you feel embarrassed. You're no better than him. Flustered as he is.

"Nevermind, um, forget I said that." You turn your head sheepishly. He was quick to catch up with you. "No, no. I'll come too."

"No, it's fine-"

"I'm coming, no take backs. You, me, shower. Yes? Yes. Okay." He fastened his pace, pulling you by his arm effortlessly. He's totally gonna be the death of you.

[whenlostinthedarkness]

Ellie x reader where they take nudes of each other on a Polaroid camera they found on a patrol and completely forget about them until someone finds them🫣😭

May or may not have written a whole ass one shot because this got me so inspired lol. Thank you for requesting this; Enjoy anon xx

Warnings: Sexual overtones and some sexual stuff sorta but not really, swearing, & use of marijuana.

Word Count: 2.5k

Anytime you and your girlfriend Ellie were put on a patrol route together, you could feel the giddiness exploding between both of you.

On a usual day where one of you had the day off and the other was out on work duties, the one at home would be sitting around, bored, and attempting to busy themselves until their girlfriend returned safe and sound. But today was one of those lucky days where you both were needed on the patrol route.

The start of patrol was pretty chill as both of you alternated between sifting through withered buildings and riding along on your horses, allowing time to appreciate the scenery of the area around in the downtime you had.

"Hey, let's check out that building with the camera sign," Ellie spoke as she rode on her horse directly next to you, pointing her finger in the direction of a storefront sized building.

You peered in the direction she was pointing at before looking back at her with an accepting shrug, "I'm down if you are."

The both of you guided your horses over in the direction of the building before leaving the animals to stand side by side, just a few feet from the broken glass door that went into the, what you assumed to be, old camera store.

"Check this shit out", Ellie said with excitement in her tone as her bright eyes marveled at the colorful, peeled wallpaper and exposed brick in a building that had to have been the ideal modern storefront before all of the infected shit happened.

You squealed as you quickly walked over to a massive bookshelf set on a wall. Several scrap pieces of cardboard and glass littered the shelf, but what your eye had been after was the books that were some how still set on the shelf as if the world hadn't completely shifted since they were first placed on the shelf.

You picked one of the books up, shoving off the layers upon layers of dust and debris that had gathered over the years, until you could make out the title on the cover, 'Camera's Throughout the Years'.

"Shit, look at this babe!"

You glanced over your shoulder to Ellie who was holding what appeared to be an oblong, square shaped, object.

Immediately, you walked over to her as she stared at this object that nearly looked futuristic to the both of you.

" What is it?", you said, tracing your finger along the thing in question.

"Hell if I know," Ellie shrugged, pressing all of the buttons on the mystery item in hopes that it would somehow start talking or moving or..doing whatever the hell its purpose was.

"Let me see if its in this book".

Quickly, you removed the cover of the book and flipped through the pages, scanning the table of contents in search of info, until you came across a diagrammed image of what appeared to be the very thing set in Ellie's hands.

"El, I think I've got it!"

Ellie was quick to move the camera away from her face and look down at the book you held in the palms of your hands.

"Looks like it's something called a Polaroid Camera." Your eyes were still scanning the book as quickly as you could as your fingers followed along with the typed words on the page.

"I think if you press the button over..here on the right..," your eyes were fixated on the object in Ellie's hand and she couldn't help but admire the way your eyes were squinted in concentration as your tongue slightly peaked out between your parted lips.

"...and just lift up on this part...it should open up."

It took you a couple tries, but eventually the top part began to move upwards until it was sitting straight up, exposing a fully intact Polaroid Camera.

"Holy shit dude!", Ellie exclaimed, eyes wild and smile never ending as she examined everything (and I mean everything) about the cameras exterior.

You rattled off the instructions on how to use it as Ellie continued to marvel at the object.

"Looks like we need films in order to use it El," you said with disappointment in your voice, "...unless."

Ellie could tell the wheels in your brain were turning as you looked the camera up, down, side to side; quickly, she handed it over to you.

"Holy shit, there's still film in this thing."

"You've got to be shitting me?!"

"Look!" You exclaimed, showing Ellie the little box of film that was still snugged inside of the square shaped compartment at the very bottom of the camera.

"Should we...test it out?"

"Oh most definitely", you replied to Ellie as you pulled the camera up to your face and looked through it's small view finder.

"Smile for me El."

Immediately, Ellie pulled up her hand to cover her face from the camera, "No fucking way."

You pouted, but continued to follow Ellie with the camera persistently, "Please El."

"What's in it for me?" Ellie smirked, bringing her hand down in order to cross both of her arms in front of her body, just below her chest.

You removed your eye from its focus on the viewfinder and lowered the camera down away from your face with an annoyed, yet amused grin.

"Oh god."

"What?"

"You know what Ellie."

Ellie walked over to you until her feet were planted on the cracked wood floor with the tips of both of your shoes touching. "Enlighten me then."

Smugly, you moved your face ever so slightly towards Ellie, which didn't go unnoticed by her. "You're never fair with your little games."

"What games", Ellie shrugged, fully playing the part of an innocent victim (which she wasn't).

"Mmmm okay."

"Okay," Ellie mimicked, trying to match your tone.

You weren't one to back down from a challenge to one up your stubborn girlfriend and now wasn't any different.

"You really wanna go there?" You moved your body forward, making Ellie nearly fall backwards from your gentle, yet sturdy nudge as she stood directly in front of you.

"Go where?"

"Shut up Ellie," you continued your nudging, but this time you didn't stop. The both of you continued on with Ellie walking backwards and you walking forwards directly into her.

"Make me."

Ellie watched as, the moment the words left her mouth, your innocent eyes seemed to cloud with devilish intention.

Gently, you placed your free hand on top of Ellies and guided until it was landing on your clothed chest; Ellie's pulse instantly began to quicken as her mind and emotions shifted from playful to aroused.

FLASH!

A strong beam of white light over took the dimly lit store as the sound of the film being spat out of the camera took over the only sound in the store, that is until Ellie let out a "What the fuck!"

You backed away from your girlfriend with a playful smile as you moved the camera away from your face and shook the film in your hand; again, doing just as the book advised.

"Babe cmon on," Ellie protested, trying to grab the film out of your hand.

"El, don't you want to see what your face looks like when you grab my boob?"

"No actually, I'd rather just see your boob."

You playfully scoffed, "Maybe you will if you stop being so difficult."

At that, Ellie stopped attempting to grab the photo in your hand, "You better be for real."

You shook your head, "You're ridiculous, you know that,"

Ellie's soft yet playful smile made you crack a genuine smile as you reached out for her hand, intertwining the tip of both of your fingers.

"Awww Ellie", immediately you cradled the photo to your chest with your free hand.

It only took a quick look, but the photo was preciously adorned with Ellie and an awestruck look on her face that made her features seem so soft and relaxed.

Ellie rolled her eyes, still wearing a smile that let you know she was appreciating your admiration for her looks, "Yeah yeah."

"You look so cute dude. I'm going to put this up in my place."

Ellie couldn't help her smile now, not even bothering to attempt to cover it up as you clutched it to your chest with two hands now, gleaming right back at her.

"I guess, it's time for your end of the deal now," you spoke slowly, raising the camera up and out to hand over to Ellie.

"What do you mean?", she questioned.

You smirked, moving your arms out of your shirt until it was lifted up & over your head.

"Wha-what are yo-you.."

Before Ellie could finish her stuttering sentence, your shirt was being discarded onto the ground, leaving you standing in your dusted jeans and grey sports bra.

Your hand out stretched to Ellie, beckoning her to come closer to you, which she happily accepted.

"What the hell are you doing?" Ellie said as she now stood just a bout a foot or so in front of you.

"Helping you get your picture." Suddenly your hands were slowly reaching for the bottom hem of the only fabric that was covering your chest.

"Babe."

"Hmm?", you hummed, lifting the fabric off of your top half until it was discarded alongside your shirt, leaving your chest naked, much to Ellies pleasure.

"Holy Shit." Ellie admired quietly, her eyes naturally raking over your chest and then back up to your eyes. "Are you asking me to take a picture of..you know," Ellie motioned her hand in the general area of where your tits were.

The mix of nervousness and astonishment in Ellie's voice was something you wished you could recored to play on repeat for those days when she was out on patrol without you.

As you stared at your girlfriend, giving her a smile, she didn't think twice about lifting the camera up to her face.

"All you do is put your eye in that little Hole right there and press the red button on the side," you explained, but if Ellie was being honest, she was only half able to comprehend any of your words. She was much too preoccupied with the way your tits were naked for her to devour with her eyes..and now to capture and have for..whenever the occasion arose.

As Ellie peered through the viewfinder, her cheeks reddened as you shifted your shoulders back, making your tits that much more pronounced and ready for her to bring her lips to.

Ellies pointer finger held down the shutter as the familiar noise of the film ejecting itself echoed through the store.

"It'll take a second for it to-"

Ellie interrupted you by quickly placing the camera and it's fresh film onto the nearby shelf and pining your back against the red brick accent wall, surely leaving slight scratches along your bare back.

You gleamed up at her as you wrapped your arms around her neck; it didn't take long for her lips to come into contact with yours in a harsh kiss that was dripping in longing.

Ellie let out a chuckle as her lips removed themselves from yours, "Maybe we should take this along so we could..take some more."

------

A Week Later

"Shut the fuck up Jesse," Ellie nudged her friend with her shoulder as the alcohol in his body made him giggle like a school child next to her.

Ellie and her friend in tow were crunching their way through the snow covered roads as they got closer and closer to the front door of her house after a night out of catching up.

Ellies hand twisted on the doorknob as she flicked on a lamp and stabbed her knife into a nearby table.

"Let me find my weed real quick then we can smoke up."

Jesse nodded, removing both his boots & coat before flopping down on Ellie's couch.

Jesse had been to your home many times before, probably having it subconsciously memorized if you had quizzed him on all the contents of your home...but something caught his eye this time that seemed out of place.

As Ellie went to her bathroom, grabbing the small tin that held potent smelling greenery, Jesse's curiosity got the better of him.

Peaking out from underneath one of Ellie's sketchbooks was the corner of...something..an object that Jesse couldn't fully make out. Looking around quickly, Jesse sneakily thumbed the corner of the object, sliding it out from underneath the leather bound book, until...it was revealed.

His cheeks grew red at the polaroid of you and your naked chest staring back at him, making him forcefully tuck it back underneath the sketchbook.

"Two pre-rolled joints coming up," with every word, Ellie's voice came closer and closer until she was in full view and plopping down on the couch next to her sheepish looking friend.

"Here", Ellie's long fingers pinched the edge of the joint as she passed it over to Jesse, but he didn't take it right away.

"Jess?"

"Hmm? Oh, sorry", Jesse's eyes must've been deer in the headlights worthy as Ellie scanned him with a furrowed brow.

"You good?"

"Yeah. Fine."

"You don't seem fine," Ellie chuckled as she held the lighter up to the white stick in her mouth until it was smoking at the end.

Jesse took the lighter Ellie held out to him, lighting his joint with a look of disassociation still evident on his face.

"Dude, what's up with you?", Ellie questioned as she exhaled.

Jesse gulped after taking the first hit and breathing the smoke out through his nose and mouth.

"You uh..you may want to try to hide this better."

Ellie looked confused at her best friend, "Hide what?"

The substance was beginning to relax Jesse more as he felt the weight on his shoulders soften and his once mortified eyes beginning to fall more closed than usual.

He chuckled, moving his eyes down to Ellie's sketchbook, doing his best to give her the hint without him having to actually say that he found her girlfriends nudes.

"What the hell are you on Jesse", Ellie chuckled, deeply inhaling and eyeing her friend.

Jesse sighed before bringing his hand down to Ellie's sketchbook, tapping his finger against the corner of the polaroid picture that had been revealed to his eyes just minutes ago.

Suddenly, Ellie's squinted pupils grew wider than ever as she came around to what he was talking about.

"Shit," she said, grabbing her sketchbook quickly, but forgetting that the intimate photo that Jesse found wasn't the only one set underneath the journal.

Jesse's eyes subconsciously dragged over to the..not so safe for work images of you, Ellie, and one of Ellie's hand wrapped around what he assumed to be her girlfriends neck.

"Fucking hell Ellie!" Jesse covered his eyes quickly as if somehow that would magically erase the images that were sure to burn into your mind for the foreseeable future.

"Damn it-Fuck, fuck fuck," Ellie swore as she grabbed the remainder of the images, placing them completely hidden under her sketchbook that was now on her bedside table.

"I-I'm so sorry Jesse."

But Jesse was much too fucked up by now to be able to be bothered by the accident, all his mind thought to do was begin laugh vigorously as his hand vibrated as it rested on top of his abdomen.

"Hey, fuck off," Ellie said as she began to lose the embarrassment as she playfully taunted her friend before once again sitting down next to him on the couch.

"I see why you date her," Jesse quipped, his laughter still spilling out to the point where it was difficult for him to get even one word out.

Ellie wasn't sure if it was the weed beginning to do it's job, the situation that had just happen, or a good combination of both, but she too began laughing hysterically and playfully hit Jesse's shoulder.

"Erase that shit from your brain dude."

"Oh don't worry," Jesse nodded through red rimmed eyes, "I'm going to try to."

[queenburd]

it's not going to let me rest until i write about it, so tonight I want to talk about the TSP2 Expo in Ultra Deluxe, and why it's a thing at all, and what it means about the Narrator, and how deeply self-conscious he is.

The Expo is, and I say this without exaggeration, the Narrator's deep, desperate need to respond to the audience and the reviews from the Skip button ending. They say he's not funny; he makes "a whole lot of gags". He's still reactionary, he makes all of this in response to (and in my mind, in the downtime during) the Skip button, and it's the first thing you can find right after the game resets from the Skip button.

He's not over it.

TSPUD in general is in a big way about the relationship between an artist and their audience. (i swear on my life i've written those words before...) it's about how a creator can and does create for themself but does, on a real level, yearn for an audience to understand and appreciate, while also being scared that people wont get it, and also being scared about "needing" a reaction to begin with.

Create for oneself, sure, but you still want people to like the thing you made. You want them to experience it, this thing you put so much time into. You want them to laugh at the jokes, that's why the jokes are there, and you hope they hit right.

Elements of that have always been in TSP but they're at the forefront of TSPUD and especially all the Expo stuff. Even while the Narrator, in Skip button rants, berates the audience for wanting jokes and gags and bits to distract them, he immediately wants to please. He's yearning to be understood, and he thinks if he can just give the people what they want, then surely they'll find the meaning in his work.

And then there's that darn Bucket. And while the Bucket feels like, at times, a stand-in for the Narrator or a way for him to project, it's easier for me to see him trying to frame Stanley's bond to the Bucket as a parallel to his bond to Stanley, instead of the other way around.

Stanley is the thing that is here in this world and story to comfort the Narrator. But Stanley is also the thing that can crush the Narrator's spirit.

In the Press Conference Ending, Stanley's bold new approach to story-telling gets him lauded, gets him praise. In the Bucket version, he tries to make the Bucket understand him through other people understanding him, and it fails. It scans as the Narrator desperately trying to reach out to Stanley, even as he tries to get adoration from an audience. Stanley only has eyes for the Bucket in the Apartment ending; in the end, the Narrator only has Stanley for company, and he on some level wants Stanley to appreciate him. He asks for feedback in the Games ending. And while nothing will ever really make him happy, there, he still asks.

In the end, Stanley's the only audience that really matters. He wants Stanley to like the things he makes.

"Why did I create Stanley? Was I lonely?"

He was. And the audience he's looking for isn't one he can interact with.

TSPUD is about a creator's relationship with an audience, hoping they will play the game, and like the game, and understand the game, so that they'll keep playing. And the game "ends" when the creator says "okay. I think I'm ready to try something new. for real this time!"

And then he gets pulled right back, because the audience response is just so uproarious. How can you move on from a thing that did, on some level, garner you success? Shouldn't you just stick with the thing that made you successful? But how do you make it better, when it felt like a complete work?

When do you get to move on? When do you make that choice? Will the audience understand? Will they follow you? Or do they just want more of the same?

The answer isn't simple.

[alexthebordercollie]

Papa Ford pg 1

I haven't drawn on paper in years. Nice to see I've still got it and haven't become completely dependent on digital art. TBH I like how the art style came out when I was free handing better than the stuff I've been drawing in Clip Studio, but I digress. I fully intend to put out more pages of this. I probably won't make an entire fic in comic format just some scenes but I have more unfinished pages of this I'll post later. I'm gonna try and get my scanner working so future pages don't look like mud. Hell maybe with some good-quality scans, I might even slap on some colors for a treat.

[captainsophiestark]

Oldies And Goodies

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: Marvel

Summary: Bucky's not a fan of modern dating conventions, until Sam sets him up on a date with a good friend who shows him the potential of the modern world.

Word Count: 1,543

Category: Fluff

A/N: To the anon who sent me an idea outline for this, I hope you like it! It got merged with another idea I had, but hopefully, it's still pretty close to what you had in mind :) Thanks for continuing to read stuff for Grant Ward and enabling me to keep writing him- he's my fave, so I'm glad I have at least a few people to share the love with!

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

My eyes scanned the restaurant, trying to make out Bucky through the dim lighting. After a moment, I caught sight of him at a table by the window. I smiled and started heading his way. As soon as he noticed me, he shared my smile and stood to greet me. Always the perfect gentleman. My heart skipped a beat, and I made a mental note to make Sam some cookies or something as a thank you.

Sam Wilson, a good friend of mine even before he'd taken up the superhero mantle, had recently introduced me to the second supersoldier out of time that he'd befriended. Bucky Barnes, the reformed Winter Soldier, was a little different than the Man With A Plan Steve Rogers, but he'd been different in a way that I liked. We'd hit it off pretty well, and with a some meddling from Sam, we'd set up a date within a few weeks of first meeting each other.

I'd spent an hour and a half making sure my outfit looked just right and trying to convince my nerves to calm the hell down. It was just a first date, with someone I was already friendly with. And I knew Sam wouldn't steer me wrong. Tonight was going to be fun.

Once I got close enough to the table, Bucky pulled a small bouquet of roses out from behind his back, holding them out to me with a lopsided smile. I gasped, taking them from him with a slightly disbelieving look.

"I've been told the flowers are a little old fashioned, but... it seemed like the right way to go," he said. I gave a little laugh, taking a moment to smell the roses (literally) before beaming back at Bucky.

"I love them," I said. His shoulders seemed to relax a little, the smile spreading to cover the rest of his face as he took a few steps closer to me.

"I'm glad. Here, let me get your chair."

He pulled my chair back from the table, gesturing for me to sit down. I nodded my thanks, trying to ignore the butterflies exploding in my chest as he scooted the chair back in for me like it was nothing. I gently laid the roses down on the table as he took his seat across from me again.

"Thanks for finding this place," I said, scanning the restaurant to take in the ambiance this time, instead of just searching for Bucky. "It's... really nice."

"Yeah, no kidding," he said, huffing a small laugh. "Honestly, I'm... a little out of my depth here. A lot's changed since the last time I asked somebody on a date."

"Well, for what it's worth, you've been doing pretty damn well so far."

We shared a smile, but then a silence settled over us that wasn't entirely comfortable. As much as this night seemed perfect, I couldn't help agreeing with Bucky. This place wasn't totally my scene, and I was starting to feel a little out of my depth, too.

"So..." I said, taking a deep breath and meeting Bucky's eyes again. "What exactly did dates look like back in the 1940s? One of the handful of times I talked to Steve, he said you set up a pretty cool double date to... some kind of expo?"

Bucky's eyes fell to the table even as his mouth pulled up in a smile. He nodded, talking as much to himself as to me.

"Yeah. Despite how it ended, I was always pretty proud of the Stark Expo one. We got to see a car fly long before any of that should've been possible. Walking around, looking at all the exhibits and experiments... honestly, it was incredible." He looked back up at me, the soft smile still in place. "Unfortunately, there weren't a lot of major, groundbreaking expos happening tonight for us to swing by."

"Damn. That would've been fun," I said, gently reaching across the table to take Bucky's hand in my own. I bit my lip, then looked up at him with a smile. "You know, Steve also said you're kind of a nerd."

Bucky snorted. Clearly, that's not what he'd been expecting me to say. He shook his head, but when he looked back at me, he had a smile on his face.

"Steve's got quite a few stories of his own that he should keep in mind when he says things like that."

"Well..." I took a deep breath, hardening my own resolve. Bucky and I were friends, and for whatever reason, this restaurant didn't feel right for either of us. I needed to trust him and our relationship so far, rather than pretending for norms or anybody else's approval. "Look, I don't know about you, but... this restaurant is lovely, but not exactly my usual vibe."

Bucky sighed, shaking his head and pulling his hand out of mine.

"I know, it's not really mine either. I just-"

"Hold on. I have an idea for a solution that might suit us both. And I think it'll be super fun."

Bucky stared at me for a few moments appraisingly, the faintest ghost of a smile appearing on his face.

"You know, I'm not used to letting the other person plan the date. But I guess I can make an exception."

I grinned. "Good. Because I have an idea that didn't exist in the 40s, but is the kind of modern thing I think you'll be able to get behind. You trust me?"

"...Yeah, I do."

"Good." I took Bucky's hand, grabbed my roses, then stood from the table. "Then follow me."

****************

"...and in the original, Gollum volunteered the ring as a prize for Bilbo winning the riddle contest!"

I beamed at my date as he raised out of his chair, the few beers we'd had and his passion for Tolkien pushing him to make his point loudly after being called on for the bonus question of this round of trivia. The host grinned, ringing a bell and pointing at Bucky.

"Aaaaand that's correct! Mark that down as three points for Oldies and Goodies! Hang tight everybody while we update the scoring, and we'll be back with our final round in ten minutes."

With that, the bar dissolved into chatter again as everyone went their separate ways for the break in trivia. Bucky settled back down into his seat with a sigh, then carefully cut his eyes towards me.

"So... was that a dealbreaker for you?"

I laughed. "Are you kidding? You got us three points, all while schooling the rest of the bar on some nerdy shit! It was hot."

Bucky laughed at that, shaking his head even as a smile stayed in place on his face.

"Alright, I've done a lot of complaining to Sam about how much dating's changed since I last did it, but I'll admit... I like this."

I grinned. "I'm glad. And for the record, I like it too. As far as I'm concerned, being able to have fun and kick ass at bar trivia with someone is one of the best green flags there is."

"Well, good. Because that table over there is right behind us in the points, and after they shouted out the worst string of horseshit about the Hobit I've ever heard with complete confidence, there's no way I'm letting us lose to them."

"Hell yeah! I'll go grab us another round, and then we'll make them wish they'd never come to this trivia night."

I jumped down from my seat and started heading past Bucky to the bar, but he caught my arm before I could get very far, his expression more serious than I'd seen it all night.

"Hey. Thanks. For getting a round of beer, for agreeing to come out with me tonight, for bringing us here... it's the best time I've had in a while, and you've been pretty much the entire reason for that. So thank you."

I smiled, my heart speeding up in my chest as I took a half-step closer to Bucky and softly kissed him on the cheek before leaning back.

"You're welcome. Thanks for being willing to try out something as new and chaotic as bar trivia. Maybe we could even make it a weekly thing?"

Bucky beamed back at me. "Sweetheart, I would love that."

"Okay, good. Then start getting ready for the next round, because if we're coming back here next week, I want it to be in defense of our title. This is the beginning of the trivia power couple Oldies and Goodies."

"I like the sound of that," Bucky said, his voice dropping an octave as he leaned into me a little. I smiled, and he pulled me into his side, squeezing me tight before letting me go so I could get us both another round.

My dopey smile stayed on my face even as I got to the bar. I'd always had butterflies in my chest when I was around Bucky, but now, it was more than that. Being around him made me happy. I felt comfortable, and I didn't want the night to end. And luckily for me, he apparently felt the same way.

Destroying our enemies at trivia was just the beginning for us. And with no ending in sight, I truly couldn't wait to see what came next.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

Marvel Taglist: @valkyriepirate @infinetlyforgotten @sagesmelts @gaychaosgremlin

[boringkate]

the thing is that you're extremely lucky. I transitioned at 22 as well, and very much aware that starting that late is very much a roll of the dice. I have been on HRT for 3 years at this point and I have seen essentially no physical changes. I cannot even fit into most women's clothing because my shoulders are too broad relative to the rest of me. wearing what rare women's clothing I can fit my body into makes me so dysphoric it typically leads to a full scale emotional breakdown. nobody in my real day to day life could ever possibly take me seriously as ANY kind of woman. they couldn't even see me as a trans woman, my body is so hypermasculine I just scan as undeniably male to everybody. so I don't even bother with any of the social stuff and I have to just live my life day to day as a man. so like, I'm really happy for you and shit and you're really beautiful but your experiences are so incredibly PAINFULLY not universal.

I absolutely never said that my experience was universal.

I also feel like you have a distorted idea of what my life even is. I'm out here wearing baggy unisex graphic tees 24/7 too and doing my best to live some type of trans girl separatist life because I can't trust cis people either.

The idea that starting hrt at 22 is late is still a joke though. 22 is young as fuck. 22 is younger than average. I've been fucking trans sluts for a decade now and I don't think I've ever even met one that got put on puberty blockers.

To argue that nobody should transition at 22 would be to arguing that trans women shouldn't exist.

I am genuinely sorry that you're having a rough time. It's easy to see how you could end up hating both yourself and your life. Transphobia and transmisogyny and lookism and shit life syndrome are real af. YOU DESERVE BETTER.

But trans women (even happy ones that are encouraging others to transition) aren't to blame for your self loathing.

Transbians are weak in the knees for bitches with broad shoulders. I'm weak in the knees for bitches with broad shoulders. Transphobic misogynistic cishets are the ones that hate women with broad shoulders. They're the ones defining whats monstrous. They're the ones you should be resentful towards.

I mean this very seriously: You're beautiful. Not everyone may see it and you might not believe it, but you are beautiful. The world is wrong.

[novelant]

Movie Night

Pairing: Phillip Graves x Fem! Reader

Summary: Feelings for your dad's best friend can't go wrong can it?

Genre: Smut

Words: 4.1k

Warnings: MDNI: Dom! Graves, unprotected!sex (wrap it before you tap it), P-in-V, implied age gap, some after care, some praise

Reminder: This is purely fiction and will have no correlation to in game character or backstory

A/N: I know that the fic before this is a dad's best friend scenario but shoot me because this is all i have in my drafts that I needed to get out so I can escape the trope. :)

Masterlist Here !!!

Phillip Graves, your dad's best friend, was taking a break from military duties and decided to stay with your family for a few weeks. He was always a busy man so you two rarely met, but you had heard a lot of good things about him from your dad. While watching some late night horror movies in the living room, you heard Graves’s deep, raspy voice coming from behind.

“You are still up this late?” He asked while sitting down next to you with a cold beer in hand. Jumping from his sudden presence behind me. You turn to see Graves sit down beside me. "Can't sleep." You lift the blanket covering me offering him some to keep warm. "Why are you up so late?" You enquire. "Can't sleep either," he took a sip from the cold beer while leaning his elbow on the arm of the couch. He looked at you, and a wave of heat washes over me, feeling your warm breath.

Graves shifted a bit to make himself comfortable, sitting with his legs crossed and one arm over the back of the couch, almost blocking me in with his massive presence. Feeling his body so close to mine. My cheeks flare up. The only thing hiding it is the darkness of the room. You shift your body closer to his to keep warm. Your head is lightly resting on his shoulder. Your eyes focused on the movie playing on the TV.

I've always had a thing for my dad's best friend but it's wrong, so wrong. I've not met him occasionally as he's busy but he's a charmer and won me over.

As Graves takes another sip from his beer, the aroma of the alcohol tickles my nose, and my mind drifts to thoughts of his smooth, soft skin as you lean closer to him. Your breath hitches when he slides his arm to rest on my lower back. "Still single?" he asks with a bit of a smirk, staring at me from the corner of his eye. "Hmm... Oh... yeah, put off guys for a while." You shrug but equally as shocked by his question. "Just annoying and they don't care for girls like me anymore." Pulling back from his shoulder. Muttering, "Sorry l should've asked to rest on you."

"What do you mean by 'girls like you'?" he asks and reaches out to place one of his fingers under my chin. You look up to see his sharp, handsome features as his eyes scan every inch of me, the intensity and heat of his gaze causing a stirring sensations within me. He seems genuinely concerned by what you said. The feeling of his fingers lifting my chin gives me butterflies in my stomach. You go nervous, he's so handsome as his blue eyes pierce into me.

"I mean girls who want a proper relationship, want all the romantic stuff. Guys nowadays just want to have sex and leave. They don't want romantic stuff." You explained to him. "So you want a committed, serious relationship?” his smile softened and he lets go from my chin, taking another sip from his beer while leaning back on the couch, stretching and letting out a small grunt in satisfaction. He raises his eyebrows as he looks back to me, "and the guys you've recently been dating haven't been giving you that?", "Yeah. I do . I want to go on dates and be loved. And you're right... The other guys haven't given me that." You give a weak smile and lean back,  resting my neck on his arm which is stretched over the back of the couch. Graves shifts his arm to drape its length around you as you lean against him. He takes a deep breath into your hair, relishing the aroma of your perfume as it lingers in his nose. You can feel his body slowly relaxing as he begins to drift into thought.

“Tell me," he says softly while looking out the window, "what are your thoughts on dating older men?", "... Older men... I umm I've never thought about it." His cologne and the alcohol mixed together lingers in my nose. A comforting and relaxing aroma you relax further into his body. "Would you ever want to try it out?" he asks while turning back to look at you. His eyes narrow on your beautiful face and your full lips as he brings his lips closer to yours. His voice is low, almost a whisper, "would you ever want to date someone as old as me?"

"I've never thought about any of it. I've dated people my age the whole time." you realise him checking you out. Getting closer to me as he speaks. You look up into his blue eyes, seeming to draw me in.  "Well," Graves lifts one of his hands, lifting your chin once again so you can look up at him. His touch stirs something deep within me, making it hard to breathe as you feel my heart beating out of my chest. My body feels a sudden rush of heat as the scent of alcohol and his cologne linger in the air.

"Could we try it?" he asks softly while bringing his lips just inches from your own. My tongue darts out to wet my lips instinctively, when his hand lifts my chin again. "Phillip... You're my dad's best friend... I'm his daughter... It's not right." You want this and you're very aware that he knows that you do as well.

"Does that really matter?" he asks while tilting his head to the side and letting his other hand come around you as both of his hands now frame your head, gently massaging your cheeks. You can feel his breath on your lips as his voice grows deeper and his gaze grows darker, "Is there anything stopping us but our minds?" He leans in slightly closer, his lips just barely skimming past yours as your breath grows erratic.

"Phil..." He lets out a small grunt as he pulls away from your lips, his breath quick and shallow. The air feels heavy around the two of us, the heat of his breath still lingering. His eyes search yours as a small flicker of uncertainty and doubt creeps into his eyes. "I shouldn't..."

You couldn't hold back anymore. You take his cheek in my hand and press my lips to his. Taking it slowly but it felt right like his lips were meant to fit with mine.

Graves whole body relaxes as his lips eagerly meet yours, his breath becoming more shallow as his tongue darts out to meet you. His hands drop down to your waist and he pulls you into him, your warm body now pressed up against him. His lips part, his breath growing quicker and hotter as he kisses you harder. Pulling away from the kiss. A smile tugging on your lips. Finding yourself situated on his lap now. I end up getting shy and hiding my face in his neck. He lets out a small grunt as you slip onto his lap, his hands now finding their way to hold your hips. The heat from your bodies mingled as you buried your face into his neck. The smell of his cologne and alcohol still lingered from your kiss, both mixed together as his hands move up to caress your back and sides in long, slow strokes.

Going all shy on Graves. Feeling his breath on my neck his lips ghosting over it. The lone kiss planted down my neck and onto my shoulder as well as his hands stroking my hips and back. The feel of Graves's warm lips against the sensitive skin of your neck sends hot ripples down your back and a wave of heat washes over you. He continues to kiss the soft skin of your neck, his lips now moving back up to your shoulders. His hands move to the small of your back, squeezing softly and pressing you into him. The smell of his cologne fills the air once more, this time more intense than before.

"Phillip..." you mumbled into the crook of his neck. I can hear the murmur of the movie you were watching in the background but your focus is on his lips kissing you neck. "Shh... it's okay." he whispers softly, his lips kissing your neck again. His hands run gently up and down your back, holding you closely as his lips slowly move back up towards your ears.

The movie playing in the background suddenly goes silent, the two of you are now in your own little world. His lips now finding the skin of your face again as his hands reach under your shirt and starts stroking the skin of your back and sides.

Feeling his calloused hands touch my soft skin sends a jolt of electricity up my spine. The blush on my cheeks deepened to a darker red. You emerge from the crook of his neck when his lips find my face again. The feeling of his hands and his slowly lust darkening blue eyes and me on his lap is a lot to take in. As your lips meet his again, the two exchange a long passionate kiss, feeling each other's bodies pressed against one another. The kiss was slow and teasing at first, but now grows faster and hot, your tongues twisting and twining together as you each taste the other's lips. Graves' hands move further up towards your waist, bringing you even closer to him, feeling your heartbeat in your pulse pounding against him. Graves' face heats up as you kiss him, your lips tasting so sweet as he kisses back. Your hands wrap around his neck as he pulls you slowly into him, his own hands coming to wrap around your body.

The two linger on this kiss, their bodies pressed together as their mouths slowly part and Graves holds you steady by your waist on his lap, with your legs wrapped around his waist Another kiss ensues starting off slowly and then forms into tongues fighting for dominance. Amongst the heightened moment I lightly grind my hips against his lap. Graves' grip on you becomes tighter as your kiss grows more intense, your tongues locking together as your bodies grow hotter. Your grinding against him sparks a reaction within Graves as his body begins to grow harder beneath your body. 

His hands move up and down your sides, gently squeezing them as your lips separate for another breath. Your mouth opens as Graves begins to give small bites to your lips as his hand moves up to your chest and starts sliding under your shirt.

You start to undo the buttons on his light blue shirt in a haste to take it off. Your hands roamed his bare and sculptured chest, until they rested behind his neck once again. The kiss only gets more passionate but slower to take in the most of it all. As you undo the buttons on his shirt, you feel his muscles flex underneath his skin as he lets out a small grunt against your neck. Your hands roam up and down his chest as your lips grow more impatient, wanting more of each other.

Graves let's out a soft moan as the two kiss, his lips pulling away from yours for another breath. It was only for a moment but his hands begin to drift down your body until they reach the button of your jeans. Feeling his hands rake down my body until they reach my button of my jeans I let out a strangled whimper the feeling of his rough hands working wonders on my skin. Your hands are still roaming his bare upper body tracing his abs and scars which adorn his chest exploring each one as your body slowly grinds on his lap. He is in complete ecstasy as he feels your breath against his bare skin, your hands grazing over every curve of his muscle.

Graves fingers swiftly pop open the button to my jeans, his hands still caressing other parts of your body while he does. Before hastily removing them. His lips sucked mine. Hands roaming and groping each other’s hot bodies while filthy noises spilled from our mouths. “Please..” you whimpered, “I need you— I need to have you.” He pulled away slightly, panting heavily. His dark siren eyes held me captive. My eyes were half-lidded with pleasure, lips burning from how roughly he kissed you. He was all teeth and tongue, kissing with the intention to take, to seize. As if you weren't the only one dreaming, aching for this moment. "God..." Graves gasped for a breath, your body grinding against him as he leaned forward slowly to kiss you again. His eyes searched your's as he took in more of your warmth, your lips tasting sweeter each time.

His hands gripped onto your waist, pulling your body tighter against him as you could feel his breath in your ears as he whispered. "We shouldn't be doing this..." his voice had a slight edge to it as he suddenly pulled away from your lips. My cheeks flushed with heat, lips slightly parted as you try my best to find the right words to respond. My mind didn't seem to comply with that request as you went blank and simply let out a sharp breath in embarrassment. All resemblance of self-control broke loose as you removed your hands from his body to hastily tear your top off with one swift move, desperate for skin to skin contact, leaving me half bare with my bra  as the sole obstacle. Graves's breathing grows faster as your top slumps off your body, your skin looking so smooth and inviting. His eyes grew wider as you pulled off your top, revealing a bra that was just hiding your breasts.

The sight of you in just your underwear and bra was one of the hottest things he'd ever seen and it took everything in him not to rip the bra off as well. He looked at you with a hunger in his eyes as he leaned forward and started kissing your neck, your breasts pressing against him even more. Graves' hands travel down to your ass and give it a quick squeeze. He lifts you slightly and places you down so your back is now on the sofa. He leans over you and starts attacking your breasts and body with kisses. His kisses tickle and you start squirming underneath him. His spare hand comes down and pins you in place by the waist.

The feeling of Graves's hands squeezing down on your rear sends a wave of warm heat up your back. His tongue flickers out, licking all around your neck and down to your breasts, his breath hot and intoxicating as he continues to kiss down your body. As you squirm against him, his other hand grabs onto your wrists, holding both of them down as he continues to kiss down your stomach. His lips start to tease the line of your underwear, kissing and biting softly and teasingly. His hands ran up the backs of your legs, causing you too shiver in anticipation. His breath was close to where you wanted him and you whined in response, tilting your hips back ever so slightly. At the movement Graves clicked his tongue and slapped my ass. 

“This pussy’s mine, y’hear?” He growled a possessive tone in his voice, fingers digging into the sides of your waist, keeping you from moving away from him. "Look at you doll. So eager for me, huh?" One finger gently traced along the length of your clothed slit. "Hmm and so wet too." and you keened, trying to push my hips back to gain more friction, but his other arm wrapped around your hips, pinning them to the couch. Already, your legs were trembling as his thumb brushed against your clothed clit. You bit my lip, fingers pressing into the cushion below you as you felt him lift up the soaked underwear and pull them to the side. 

That quick slap on your ass made your body shiver, sending a wave of heat all the way through your body for a moment. It was as if you'd hit the switch and your body grew even more desperate for Graves's touch. His breath fell against the line of your underwear, now growing even hotter as his fingers moved underneath them and you could feel his breath tickling you. His thumb brushed against your clit, and you could tell he was teasing you on purpose.

"P...hil..." You breathe out "Stop teasing."

You grab his wrists which are still pinning you down as some sort of support while he is teasing you. Your back can't help but arch off the sofa at the sensations you're feeling and your head tilts back pressing deeper into the cushion supporting it. His body moves up so you can feel his breath on your neck but his hand remains brushing against your clit and pussy. You can feel his hardness pressed against your inner thigh as he reconnects your bodies after what felt like hours but in reality was only minutes. Your words have no effect on him now, Graves seems to be enjoying himself as you beg for him to stop teasing you. You feel even more desperate as the pressure of his hand moves even closer to you, your body instinctively arching up and wanting an even bigger sensation.

Graves is now leaning in closer than you've felt before as his body touches you intimately. The feeling of his hardness pushing against your inner thighs is driving you wild with anticipation as your back presses back even more into the cushions. His lips connect with my neck once again and leave dark purple marks in their wake from his relentless attack. Your hands slide into his blonde hair and lightly tug at him while a quiet whimper escapes my lips. You wriggle again to try and achieve some friction between you both. Hoping he'd take the initiative to continue this dirty act. Your small tugs on his hair bring him back into the moment with you, your body's movements letting him know just how much you want him. The lack of friction and the teasing drives you so crazy that the sound of your whimper is like music in his ears.

His hands grip onto your thighs as he shifts his body lower, his own breathing growing heavier even in this moment. He pulls you closer to your body using your waist, getting rid of the small gap between your bodies. Graves dip his hand lower once again before slowly pressing into me closing the gap completely between us. He gives you a little bit of time to adjust to the intimate moment before he begins to slowly move. All while your head is still thrown back and your mouth is locked in an open gasp. The feeling of him on your inner walls felt tight but you eventually got through the initial pain before the lust took over.

The moment you realize what is happening is almost too much for your body to handle. The feeling of him pressing into you sends a sharp tingle up your spine as the sensation grows and the pain gives way to the most intense feeling you've ever felt. Graves makes sure to take things slow at this step, trying not to hurt you as you gasp against the couch, your body now completely enraptured in desire. Graves continues to take things slow as he watches your mouth stay open in pleasure, your body growing hotter with each movement. Your hands are clamped on the couch, still needing support for the motions he is making. The lack of friction and the slow speed drives you crazy at how intimate this moment is, your breaths coming in and out in small rapid breaths while you're now trapped between the couch and his body.

As you adjust to the feeling, Graves slightly starts increasing the speed and your body tries to keep up. Your arms start to strain under the constant pressure so you have to let them relax off of the couch itself. This also means Graves gets deeper and deeper with every movement and by the time you're nearly about to reach the climax of your body, you're so used to the feeling that your breathing has picked back up. The slow pace and the gentle feeling in this moment makes it hard to believe that something this intimate is with someone like him.

The moment hits before you even realize it, and the feeling of you reaching your climax is the most intense sensation you've ever felt. Graves slows down even further, the last few motions making your body shake on the couch as your eyes are squeezed shut tight and you feel yourself getting overwhelmed by the sensation.

Fully collapsing on the sofa once you both reach your climax, Graves pulls out and lies on top of you. Holding you through the moment that just happened. Giving you pepper kisses on your face and neck. Your breath slows down from the rapid breath from being in the act you both did. Graves wraps his arms around you and pulls you in close, kissing you all over your face and neck. Your body is exhausted and your breathing slowly returns back to normal. His hand stroking your hair and whispering in your ear, "You did amazing for me doll and "Couldn't have been any more perfect sweetheart." which makes you feel cared about, it seems to bring back the comfort that was missed during the more aggressive moments.

In an all dazed out state, your bodies pressed together. You whispered in his ear, jokingly, "Did that just happen."

"It did... How do you feel?" Graves whispers in reply, his body still pressed next to yours as he strokes your neck softly. He sounds genuinely curious about how you feel about what just happened with him, having a slight tone of nervousness in his voice. "I feel tired but I feel good." You lean up a little to give his a chaste kiss on his lips. You feel my eyes getting heavy and sleep threatening to take over. "Me too... Are you ready to rest?" Graves whispered, noticing how tired you seemed to be as well. Your body pressing back against him and your eyes starting to get heavy made you feel even warmer as you lay against his broad chest. Continuing to whisper "Hmm I think I am. But I think the comfort of my bed will be lovely."

"Then let's get you to bed then." Graves said softly, his fingers stroking through your hair still. He started to get up quickly after that response and took your body in his arms, standing up with you in them as he quickly walked you towards the bed in the bedroom. You could see the slight blush on his cheeks from the activity and how excited he was to spend time with you after what you've just done together. Getting to the bed, Graves sets you down on the comforters surface letting you lay down. He crawls in with you, making sure to hold you close as he pulls the covers over the two of you.

With that, he lays next to you, his body pressed next to yours and holds you close to him. The blankets are heavy and the heat of the room is now much warmer with both your bodies under the blankets. "You alright?" Graves whispered, the heat and the weight of the covers making him wonder how you felt after all this time of being together. He laid a gentle hand on your hips, softly caressing your skin while you were still catching your breath. He pulled you slowly closer to him so that his arm was fully wrapped around you, and your bodies were now lying almost on top of each other under the blanket. "Hmm much better now..." You trail off. His warm body heat lulled me off to sleep. His hand caressing me creating a soothing atmosphere. "How are you? I never asked" You ask your voice a whisper. Your hand caressing his chest. "I'm good... Better than good." Graves said as he laid his head back onto the pillow, the softness of your voice and the feeling of your hands caressing him made him feel even more at ease. He sighed happily as he got a tiny bit more comfortable, getting closer to you so that he was holding you like a body pillow. It almost felt like you were a couple, cuddling together in a warm bed.

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