#color pick. i dare you

[scorchrend]

clover for my evil art challenge (i asked people on twitter what defining traits were in my art and had to draw without them)

not allowed:

texture

grey backgrounds

round shapes (twice this was mentioned)

jesters. what the fuck man. evil

primary colors

sharp eyes

3:4 angles

i was also requested to draw as flat as possible

unrelated to the challenge, here is a regular doodle

[drawbauchery]

RAHHHHHH KIIBO BOMB 💣💥💥💥💥💥💥 HAPPY BIRTHDAY 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎁🎈🎂🧇

(I’ve been hoarding these for months waiting for an optimal time to strike 😈)

AH?!?!? AAHH!!!??!?? 0A0

[ask-the-pearloftheorient]

Mahal

Alt with no effects:

[getjinnxd]

tags

[salem-witch-slut]

Prostitution (18+)

Sevika x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Of all the girls in the brothel, and she picked you.

WARNINGS: Brothel work (prostitute!reader), dom!Sevika, sub!reader, hair pulling, leather lingerie, grinding, fingering, strap-on use (r!receiving), Daddy Sevika, biting (briefly)

WORD COUNT: 2.1K

A/N: In honor of Arcane Season 2 coming out today, thought I would bring back one of my best kinktober prompts with everybody's favorite muscle mommy. Briefly considered making a part 2 for this but lemme know what you guys think?

dividers made by @cafekitsune

Why did you think this was a good idea?

Well, truth be told, you didn’t think this was a good idea… But it was the only idea you had left. Your family was dead, like everyone was in the Undercity. Your partner got herself killed from a shimmer overdose, and you were facing being homeless. Your entire world was turned upside down and it was all fucked to no end. But now you had to pick up the pieces.

You were hired at the brothel. What the actual fuck were you thinking? Well, you knew Babette, and she was willing to give you a chance. It was decent money, and you were given free food during every shift. How could you turn it down?

It was your first week and you have already been through hell. The women who came to the brothel tended to be high on shimmer and sloppy at best, but the men; they were aggressive, vicious, and you found yourself leaving with aches and pains every single night.

And yet, when you entered the room that you were assigned to today, you were surprised to say the least. The outfit on the bench was… strange. Normally, the clientele wanted something revealing, lace, and soft bright colors. No, you were given something black, made of leather, and matching black heels to complete the look.

“Don’t question it,” You told yourself. “Just put it on.”

You slowly stripped off all your clothes and pulled on the leather bustier and black lace panties. Your fingers twitched slightly as you strapped the heels to your feet and ran your fingers through your hair… Your lipstick was a deep maroon color, and you had dark, dramatic eyeliner. Seems like you thought it all out already?

Who was your client today? Why were you so nervous? What if it was a man that was three times your size? What if it was more than one man? What if you got hurt today?

“Did you hear about who she picked today?” A shiver raced down your spine as you approached the curtains in front of your door, biting down on your painted lip. Who were they talking about?

“Oh, I heard. Cute little new girl is about to get ruined today, huh?” You… they were talking about you! But who else? Who was she?

You’ll get your answer soon enough.

It felt like forever until you heard heavy footfalls in the hallways. Whispers carried in the corridors, along with the aggressive clicks of heels from your fellow ‘coworkers’ running away from whoever was making their presence known inside of the building. Your fingers trembled as you dared a peek out from behind your curtain.

Not even a second later, the curtain was being pulled back and in walked your client… Tall, muscular, handsome, and absolutely terrifying.

The brothel’s most regular visitor. Silco’s right hand… the person that everyone in the underground fears.

Sevika.

You nearly fell down the stairs, heels slipping on the concrete flooring as you tried to back away and give her the space she deserved. But it seemed she had other ideas.

Before your body could come in contact with the ground, the woman reached out and grabbed both of your hips with her hands. Her right hand was warm and calloused, a pulse beneath her flesh, but her left hand? Cold, sharp, and thrumming with the energy of her mechanical arm hidden beneath that cloak she always wears.

“Easy, doll,” Her voice is deep, husky almost as she steps forward and lowers you down to the stable surface behind you. Shivers raced down your back, and you couldn’t stop yourself from trembling in her grasp. For a moment, neither of you said anything. But then her eyes raked all over your body and she breathed, hard. “Damn, look at you… Pretty little thing all dressed up just for me?”

Were you supposed to speak? You have heard so many stories about Sevika… how aggressive and cruel she is out there on the streets, and how she kills without mercy or a care in the world. You were scared of her, to say the least… And Sevika could see it in your eyes. She knew what her reputation was and was more than happy to push the agenda.

“Scared of me?”

You inhaled sharply, your hands slowly sliding from your sides to hold onto her forearms. The whirring of the mechanics of her arm made your thighs tremble. “N-No, miss…”

“Funny,” Sevika reached down and gently ran her rough fingertips along the edge of your jaw before she slid her hand in your hair. “Only dumb girls feel no fear… Now, you aren’t dumb, are you sweet thing?”

 You breathed slowly for a second, fearing you said something wrong to her. She looked amused, but looks could be deceiving… The gap between her two front teeth was cute. You focused on the crease of her jawline, the scars on her face, and the way her brows were pulled down.

She was so fucking hot that you forgot why you were afraid… and then, she grabbed at your hair, making you yelp and submit. Your hands had slid far too high up, and she was punishing you… Fuck, she was punishing you! “Better watch it. I’m paying to touch you, not the other way around.”

“But—” You hiccupped, looking into her eyes for the briefest second. She waited for your words to continue. “S-sorry…”

“Oh, she has manners?” Sevika showed off the smile that made your stomach flutter for a brief moment and reached down with both hands, gripping your thighs and lifting you off the floor like you weighed almost nothing to her. Out of instinct, your hands reached up and grabbed onto her shoulders for stability. “We’re going to have fun.”

Before you could utter another sound, you felt something press against you… something solid, and stiff. Something that felt like it was alive, right against the wet spot on your panties. A low moan left your throat, and you just immediately knew what it was.

“Take it off, doll,” Sevika breathed against your neck. “You know you want to.”

Fingers trembled as you reached for the cloak on her shoulders and slowly pulled it over her head. The brown fabric dropped to the floor behind her, and you looked down, confirming your suspicion. Sevika was strapped under her pants… the bulge was now way more obvious without the cloak.

“Feel that?” Sevika pressed her flesh hand to your rear and stepped forward, spinning you around and sitting herself down on the couch behind you. The second you were in her lap, she was pushing you down onto her hips and grinding the bulge against your cunt like it was her damn birthright to do so.

Your pulse quickened with every passing second, and you dropped your face down against her chest, breathing in the scent of tobacco and her natural scent… Strong, earthy, like a roaring wood fire. You didn’t know what came over you, but before you could scold yourself for knowing better, your tongue came in contact with her bear neck and your lips trailed all over her exposed skin.

Sevika tensed up and her fingers went from holding your hips to sliding under the fabric of your panties, grabbing at your flesh and making you instinctively bite down on her shoulder. Nowhere near enough to hurt, but enough for her to feel it. Sevika looked like she was about to start climbing the walls as she felt your hips roll forward on top of her.

With a simple flick of her metallic fingers, the underwear given to you was ripped off your body and you barely had time to recover before Sevika was lifting you off her lap and reaching to pull the zipper of her pants down. A sigh left your throat, and you could only push your face into her neck; Sevika didn’t like that.

“Nuh-uh,” She grabbed your chin with her flesh hand, pulling you back to look down into her eyes. Her grey irises were staring directly passed your fears and into your soul. It was like she was lighting you on fire from the inside out. “You look at me. Prettiest fucking girl is going to look at me when I fuck her.”

Her words made you blush from the tips of your ears down to your neck and you almost forgot that this was your job… It was easy to think that Sevika had just picked you out of everyone in the underground to have a night with. Not… that she was paying for it.

“Don’t worry,” Sevika smirked, that crease in her brow becoming more prominent as you felt her hand leave your face and slide down between your legs. When you felt her calloused fingers against your soft wet folds, you forgot how to breathe. “Daddy’s gonna take good care of you.”

The sound you made was beyond pornographic. Two of her fingers slipped inside of your wetness without any kind of resistance. Your entire body went rigid, and your eyes fluttered for a brief second before you forced yourself to look at her. Sevika smirked and basked in your expressions, slowly pushing you up and down on her digits.

What did you even say? What were you supposed to do? Sevika isn’t like your other clients… She’s so intense, even when she’s barely touching you. It feels like you are drowning, even if it’s just her presence surrounding you. Your inner walls squeeze at her fingers as she curls them at just the right angle. Sevika smirked.

“Oh, you like that?” Sevika kept you steady on her lap with her metal hand while the other one worked in and out of your pussy. “So wet for me, already? Barely touched you, doll.”

“Fuuck...” You rolled your entire body forward, biting your lip and leaning down just enough to press soft kisses against her face. “P-Please—”

“Please, what?” Sevika said sternly. “Use your words, doll.”

“I… I n-need… ohfuck...”

“Come on,” She smirked, curling her fingers at just the right angle that you almost feel your legs give out. “Just say it—”

“Fuck me,” You whine, finally giving in. “Please, please, please… fuck me, daddy.”

There was a hunger in her eyes that wasn’t there before. It was like a switch had flipped inside of her because in mere seconds, you went from sitting on her lap to her pushing you down into the floor that was littered with pillows, blankets, anything you could desire to make this as comfortable as possible.

Sevika all but ripped her pants to try and free what had been teasing you initially. You only had a few seconds to really look at the strap around her hips before she was lining the tip of the bright purple silicone against your core.

“Pretty little thing,” Sevika growled, almost ferally as she slammed down overtop of you. Suddenly, the leather around your chest felt entirely too tight, like you couldn’t breathe. You began frantically reaching for the ties to undo the restraint on your chest, and Sevika noticed because you gasped at her ripping the ropes off the bustier and pushing the fabric apart to really look at you.

“Now, because you were a good girl…” Sevika gently prodded your opening, making you whimper and reach for her biceps. “You get a warning before you get fucked.”

“Daddy, please—”

That was her trigger. You could only grab at her muscles before she was plunging all of her strap inside of your cunt like it belonged to her. You tried to scream, but nothing came out other than a strangled squeak as your head went back on the pillows and tears filled your eyes.

You aren’t a stranger to being stretched out like this. It wasn’t like it was your first day at the brothel… but it was your first day with Sevika. She only gave you a few seconds to adjust to that cock before she was reaching down with her flesh fingers and gently rubbing at your clit.

Your soft squeaks faded into intense moans, much to the woman’s delight. She chuckled, watching you squirm and look at her like she was an alien of some sort.

“Not what you expected, doll?” Sevika teased, rolling her hips forward and making you moan like the whore you were. “Didn’t think I’d care about making you feel good?”

Very stupidly, you nodded.

“Let me fix that,” She leaned down, and you curled your fingers into the leather of her jacket before bracing yourself for the most intense workday of your entire fucking life.

“Be good for daddy and I’ll make you cum so hard that you’ll beg me not to leave.”

And that is exactly what Sevika did.

[littlelamy]

boat scene with rafe

requested by @gibson-g1rl l <3 😘 part 2

credits: oysters png from @saizun , and amazing gifs from @rafeyscurtainbangs

The boat rocks beneath you as you step toward where Rafe sits bound against the wall, looking both furious and oddly vulnerable. You catch his eye as you enter the room, holding a small packet of aspirin and a plate of food. His eyebrows lift slightly in surprise, but his cocky smirk returns almost immediately.

“Look who’s here to take care of me,” he drawls, his voice dripping with that familiar teasing tone, though there’s a flicker of genuine relief in his eyes.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” You roll your eyes, but there’s no real bite to your words. You set the plate down next to him and hand over the aspirin, glancing away to avoid letting him see the small, reluctant smile tugging at your lips. “Thought you’d need this. Can’t have you passing out on us.”

Rafe takes the aspirin from your hand, holding your gaze just a little too long before he swallows it dry. “I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting room service,” he murmurs, eyes never leaving yours. “Didn’t know you cared this much.”

You scoff, folding your arms. “You should know by now I don’t want you dead, Rafe,” you say with a wry smile. “But don’t expect this to become a habit.”

He chuckles, the sound low and a little smug. “We’ll see about that,” he says, shifting against the ropes, clearly enjoying the attention. He nods toward the plate. “So, what—are you gonna feed me, too?”

You blink, taken aback by his nerve, and then raise an eyebrow, letting sarcasm color your voice. “Would you like me to? Or do you think you can manage?” You narrow your eyes, daring him to keep pushing.

Rafe’s smirk wavers, his cheeks turning the faintest shade of pink as he quickly looks away. “I can handle it,” he mutters, clearly flustered but trying to play it off. “Don’t get carried away.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I wasn’t planning to.” But you can’t help the grin tugging at your lips as you settle back, watching as he tries to pick up a piece of food from the plate with an awkward, fumbling grip, struggling against the restraints.

You stifle a laugh as he tries to eat without making a mess, and he catches you smiling, his jaw tightening. “Something funny?” he snaps, though there’s a hint of embarrassment in his tone.

You shrug, biting back your amusement. “Nothing at all. You look perfectly in control.”

Rafe grumbles under his breath, focusing intently on his food to avoid meeting your eyes. Another wave rocks the boat, causing you to steady yourself against the wall, and you look back to find him watching you, something almost like concern flickering in his gaze.

“Be careful,” he mutters, his voice softer, dropping the bravado for a split second.

For a moment, you just look at each other, the storm outside and the chaos around you fading into the background. His cocky expression softens, and he gives you a small, grateful nod. He won’t say it, but you know he’s thankful.

“Thanks,” he says quietly, his gaze lingering on you a beat longer.

“Yeah, yeah,” you reply, crossing your arms as you lean back against the wall. “Just don’t make me regret it.”

Rafe grins, his cockiness slipping back into place, but now it’s warmer, less of a wall and more like something shared just between the two of you. As he reaches for another bite, he murmurs, “Wouldn’t dream of it.” And as much as you try to resist, you can’t help the small, reluctant smile that crosses your face in response.

The storm hits hard, the boat rocking violently beneath your feet. You’re barely able to keep your balance as you make your way through the narrow, dimly lit hallway. Waves crash against the hull, each one sending a jolt of panic through your body. But there’s something else clawing at you—something that won’t let you ignore the sound of Rafe’s voice, sharp and desperate, calling from another room.

“Come on! Cut me loose!” His voice cracks, the desperation in it too raw to ignore.

You freeze, breath catching in your throat. Rafe. He’s still tied up. The ropes are holding him in place as the boat teeters precariously on the brink of capsizing. You can hear Pope and Cleo yelling from the kitchen, their voices overlapping, trying to convince you to leave it alone. To save yourself. But you can’t. Not this time.

You grip the knife tighter, your fingers cold and trembling from the anxiety rising in your chest. There’s no time to think. Rafe’s call keeps echoing in your head, and that voice—the urgency, the fear—pushes you forward. You make your way toward the room where you heard him last, the sound of the storm growing louder as it pounds against the sides of the boat.

Before you even get to the door, Cleo’s voice rings out. “No! Y/N, No!”

Pope’s voice follows, sharper. “Y/N, stop don’t let him out!”

But you keep moving. You don’t stop. You can’t. There’s no way you’re going to let Rafe stay there, helpless and bound, when you can do something about it.

When you reach the door, you shove it open, and the sight of Rafe tied up against the far wall hits you with a jolt. He’s slumped slightly, sweat slicking his forehead, his face drawn with exhaustion and frustration. His eyes snap to you, and for a split second, they soften with something almost like relief.

“Cut me loose, come on!” He says again, his voice strained, but louder this time, more insistent.

His hands are bound tightly in thick ropes, his legs spread out uncomfortably beneath him. The ropes seem too thick for him to break on his own. You can see the tension in his body, the way his muscles twitch from the strain, and the panic that flickers behind his gaze. There’s no time to waste. You don’t think twice. You crouch in front of him, the knife in your hand glinting in the low light.

Rafe watches you, his chest rising and falling unevenly. “Don’t make me regret this,” you murmur, feeling your heart beat faster as you cut into the thick rope that’s holding him in place. Your hands are shaking, the knife slipping slightly as the boat tilts again, but you focus on the task at hand.

“Come on, hurry up.” His words are clipped, desperate, and you push aside the nervous tightness in your chest as you work faster, cutting the ropes.

You’re close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body, a stark contrast to the cold, wet air from the storm. The boat groans as another wave slams against it, and Rafe’s eyes flicker to the window, then back to you.

“Please,” he breathes, and it’s that one word that makes everything else fade away—the roaring storm, the panicked shouting from the others, the ticking clock of time slipping away.

The last thread gives way with a sharp cut, and Rafe’s hands are free. His arms immediately reach for you, grabbing hold of your wrist with a surprising amount of force, pulling himself upright.

“Thanks,” he mutters, his voice rough, but there’s something deeper in it, something like a sense of vulnerability you’ve never seen from him before.

You don’t have time to say anything, to wonder if he’s really thankful or if he’s just grateful to be free. The boat shudders violently, and you both stumble as the hull groans beneath you. The wind howls outside, whipping against the windows, and you know there’s not much time before things get worse.

Rafe doesn’t wait for an invitation. He grabs your arm, pulling you toward the narrow hallway. “We need to get to somewhere safer,” he says, his tone not leaving any room for an argument.

You’re both moving quickly, though the boat keeps pitching wildly. The wind screeches, and water sloshes against the floorboards. Every step feels like a risk, like the boat could capsize at any moment. But Rafe doesn’t let go of your arm. He pulls you behind him, guiding you toward a small corner near the engine room, the only place that might offer even the slightest bit of shelter.

You slide into the corner, pressing yourself against the cold wall. It’s not the safest place, but in the madness of the storm, it’s all you have. Rafe follows, wedging himself beside you. There’s barely enough room for the two of you, but you don’t mind. You’re not focused on that right now. All you can think about is how the boat is rocking, how you’re both on the brink of disaster, and how Rafe’s body is so close to yours.

He leans into you, his breathing ragged and uneven. For a moment, he pulls away, but then his hand is at your waist, his grip tightening. It’s almost like he’s afraid you might slip away from him. He presses his body closer, his face now inches from yours, and you can feel the rapid beat of his heart.

Rafe places his head on your neck, his face buried in the crook of your shoulder. The warmth of his breath on your skin is both comforting and unsettling, but you don’t pull away. Instead, you place your hand on his back, the pressure of your touch grounding both of you as the storm rages on around you.

“You’re okay,” you whisper, though you’re not sure if you’re trying to reassure him or yourself.

Rafe doesn’t respond, but you feel his muscles relax, his tense body unwinding little by little. He’s not just holding onto you for stability; it feels like he’s holding onto you for something more. You can’t explain it, but there’s something in the way he leans into you, something raw and vulnerable that you’ve never seen before.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln

[that-house]

Potion Vendor FAQs:

What’s your name? I am the Honorable Alchemist Zykocea the Radiant, but that’s mostly just a PR thing. My friends call me Zoe.

Do you sell love potions? No.

Do you sell potions of invisibility? No.

Do you sell fire resistance potions? No.

Why do I have a suitcase? Fuck if I know. Cool outfit though. Very goth.

Do you sell a potion to treat brain hemorrhaging? No.

So what CAN your potions do? I sell health potions.

Are you sure these are health potions? They do something to your health.

Is this just ditch water with some pink glitter? No.

Really? I’ll have you know I added some fruit juice too.

Why is this starting to sound like a conversation? Oh just you wait. We’re just getting started.

Is your business model legal? Fuck no. I poisoned the food safety inspector before they could snitch.

Did you just admit to murder? Just fucking try to convict me. I’ll poison the judge too.

So can you make poison potions? No.

Then where do you get the poison? I secrete it from my skin.

Are you shitting me? Yep, I’m shitting you. I have a guy. A poison guy. He DOES secrete it from his skin though.

How does that work? …Fuck if I know. Maybe a wizard did it. Damn, now I’m kinda curious.

You never asked? The idea of asking literally never crossed my mind.

Wanna ask him? Let’s do it. I don’t have anything better to do, and a road trip beats sitting around running my fraudulent potion business.

Road trip? He lives in Seattle.

Your poison guy lives in Seattle? All poison guys live in Seattle.

For real? All the poison guys I know live in Seattle.

And how many poison guys do you know? Just the one.

Why are you like this? Years of living on my potions. It changed me.

Do you know what his address is? Nope. He just mails me my poison in unmarked boxes.

You just get your poison in the mail? We already poisoned everyone who could do anything about it.

So how are we going to find him? We’ll figure that out eventually I’m sure.

Can I drive? God no. You can pick music, but I maintain veto rights. Make sure you pick something with a lot of questions if you want to sing along.

Where’s your car? The garage connects to my house, so you’re getting a little tour. Here’s the kitchen: only one of the stove burners works and I’m pretty sure the microwave is haunted.

Why do you think that? Because of the ghost that tries to kill me whenever I run it.

What’s in that room? That’s my bedroom. It’s pretty much just a mattress on the floor and every single Warrior cats book.

You were a Warriors kid? Yeah, and then I never found the time to put the books away. There’s so many fucking books. I use them in place of furniture because I can’t afford chairs.

Your fraudulent potion business doesn’t make much money? After buying all that poison I just about break even.

Can I see your potion brewing room? It’s right through here. Ignore the mess, running a fraudulent potion business takes a lot of prop work, but I’ve got all the glass tubes and colorful liquids you could ever want. This pink stuff is melted watermelon italian ice. Glitter vat is in the basement, and the famous ditch is in the backyard.

Is this your car? My beloved ‘72 Corolla. She’s beautiful, and don’t you dare imply otherwise.

Was she always this shade of muddy brown? …Yes.

Are you sure I can’t drive? Get in the fucking passenger seat and pick the music.

Let’s see, a song with questions in it, how about The Beach? That Wolf Alice song, yeah. That should work.

When will we three meet again, in thunder, lightning, in rain? Still sink our drinks like every weekend but I’m sick of circling the drain.

When will we meet eye to eye? We clink the glass but we look at the floor.

Are we still friends if all I feel is afraid? You’re not a bitch but just a bit when you’re bored.

Is that all we can sing together? Yep. Even that little bit was nice, though. It’s awkward, communicating through this FAQ format.

Got any food? Yeah, there’s a few days’ worth of snacks in the back.

Were you just… prepared to go on a road trip? Says the woman who brought a suitcase to an FAQ.

I did do that, didn’t I? I have a spare toothbrush in case you forgot yours. I’m pretty sure you did.

How did you know that? …I’m psychic.

Yeah? No.

You love lying, don’t you? I can’t stop. It’s fun. Way more fun than telling the truth.

Did you just miss a turn? Probably.

Are you sure we’re not lost? No.

You mean you’re sure we’re not lost? No, I mean I’m not sure we’re not lost.

Why did I come on this road trip? Surely it was my winning personality.

Would it help if I said it was? It would.

Is it getting dark? Soon.

Can you describe the sunset to me? An empyrean flame, red-gold towers of darkening clouds, the sky behind them an ever-deepening indigo. The great eye of the sun closes on the horizon. The road before us looks like a trail of spilled paint, an iridescent gash through the night-dark woods.

Did you know that you’d make a slightly better poet than you do a potion seller? That really isn’t saying much, huh. Good job making a statement like that in question form, though. You’re getting good at this.

Should we find a motel? Sure.

One room or two? One. It’s way cheaper, and like I said: I’m not the best potion vendor.

You’d make a good assassin, though, wouldn’t you? Shit, you might be right. I HAVE poisoned a lot of people.

Should I be endorsing this? You’re a grown woman who can make her own choices.

Would you like to consider it endorsed? I’ll consider considering it.

How many beds do you think there will be? Now that you’ve asked that, I’m gonna put my money on one. Hello, one room please. Thank you, we’ll be sure to enjoy our stay.

How many beds are there? One.

Oh no, what ever will we do? Move over, you motherfucker, you can’t have the whole bed.

Are you gonna make me? Yes. I am going to pick you up and drop you on your side of the bed.

How did you get so strong? You’re not gonna believe this, but it was the potions.

Oh yeah? I was right. You didn’t believe me.

For real though, how did you get so strong? Working out, duh. Not everything has some big crazy secret behind it. World’s still beautiful though.

Are you comfortable? This beats the mattress at home. A little chilly though.

Wanna cuddle–for warmth of course? God yes.

Are you asleep? …

Yes? …

Does this mean I can talk about you behind your back? …

What should I say? …

Did you know that I had a really nice day? …

Did you know that I think you’re beautiful? …

Did you know that I can’t remember anything from before today? …

Did you know that I don’t know who I am? …

Did you know that you’re basically the only thing stopping me from having a full-blown panic attack about all this shit? …

Did you know that you’re warm? …

Did you sleep well? Better than at home, that’s for sure.

Did you know that you snore? I hope I didn’t keep you up.

Does the pope shit in the woods? No, as far as I can tell. Oh my god. This is huge.

What is? You can give me yes and no answers now. I still can’t ask you questions, because this is a question and answer format, but I can offer leading statements and now you can answer them! This is wonderful!

Does a deer shit in the woods? Yes, it IS wonderful. Oh that’s amazing. You’re a genius.

You didn’t already know that? Hahaha!

Shall we get moving? Yeah, just let me grab something from the vending machine.

Can you get me something? Go ahead and place your order however you can.

You know those sour gummy watermelons? One pack of Sour Patch Watermelons coming right up. I’m gonna go get myself a potion.

Is that a Pepsi? It’s closer to a potion than the shit I sell.

Let me guess, passenger seat again? Right you are.

How fast are we going? You’ll feel safer if you just guess.

Is it more than 120 miles per hour? Like I said, it’s probably better if you don’t know.

150? Sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.

How much do you trust this car? She hasn’t blown up on me yet.

Can you promise me we won’t crash? I can promise you anything you want.

And can you keep that promise? I- we can do anything. Reality is what we make of it, baby!

Then can I have a badass tattoo? As far as I can tell, you’ve always had it.

And a cool knife? Woah, cool knife.

So, we’re just playing “yes and” with the world? It’s a little more complicated than that, but you’re close enough to the mark.

So, if I was hungry, I could ask “is that a Burger King,” and it would be there? Try it and find out!

Is that a Burger King? Looks like it is! We’ll stop here if that’s alright with you.

Does a moose shit in the woods? Awesome.

Are you done eating? Yep.

Do we still have to pay if we skip over the transaction? Sadly, yes.

How much further do we have to go? Two more nights, the speed we’re going at.

Speaking of night, isn’t it getting dark? Shit, I guess it is.

Should we get another motel? Let me check to see if there’s any nearby. Fuck, nothing.

What’s the plan? Sleep in the car, I guess. This is gonna be hell on my back.

Wanna watch dumb videos on my phone until we fall asleep? There is literally nothing in the world that I would like more.

Ok, now which video? You have a very cute yawn. Just saying. Let’s watch this one next, it’s a classic. Oh, never mind. It looks like you’re asleep. As long as I keep talking, I think I can get away with making this into one answer, and you might not hear this. Now it’s my turn to talk about you behind your back. Keep talking keep talking keep talking can’t stop to think. Just have to say things. First off, I’m sorry for all the lies. It’s our only chance. I have to lie to you. I hope you’ll understand. It’s hard, though, because I think I’m falling in love all over again. Through our broken little ritual of call and response, you complete me. It just makes this hurt all the more. Keep talking keep talking keep talking don’t stop to…

Did I hear you saying anything as I fell asleep? …No. I can’t talk for long without you asking me a question.

Does that bother you? It got me here, didn’t it?

When did you start holding my hand? Some time after you passed out. I hope you don’t mind.

Can we stay like this for a while? Yeah. Yeah we can.

What was your life like before all this? Normal, as potion-brewing scams go. And if you don’t count all the murders. You haven’t told me much about yourself.

Did I tell you I used to be a biologist? You didn’t tell me that, and you didn’t tell me what you studied, either.

What do you know about venom? Not much, but I’m assuming you know a lot.

Does a box jellyfish kill within minutes? I’m going to assume the answer is yes based on context clues. Oh my god you must be on this road trip because you’re interested in studying my poison guy.

Is it not enough to wish to accompany a beautiful stranger on her quest? Aw, you’re sweet.

What could be the cause of his poison, though? I knew it! Get your ideas out, I’ll stay quiet.

I’m more knowledgeable about venom than poison, but could it be some sort of one in a trillion mutation? …

Did he get his body modified? …

What sort of surgery could do that? …

How is he still alive? …

Did a fucking wizard do it? …

WHY? …

HOW? …

Is there literally ANY explanation for why he’s like that? …

I’m done, do you have something you want to say? You’re cute when you’re all excited like that.

Can I drive today? Only because I like you. Now watch out, the brakes only work on one side so you have to kind of drift to a stop. And the headlights don’t work. And the windshield wipers cut power to the engine while they’re on.

Isn’t it weird that we’ll be there tomorrow? The journey doesn’t have to stop there. We could meander down the coast a ways, see a bit more of the country, maybe take a different route back.

Can we do that? Of course.

Enjoying the passenger seat? I’d love it if you could tell me how fast we’re going.

Are you sure you wouldn’t rather just guess? Very funny.

Can you pass me some chips? It would be an honor.

Is there going to be a motel tonight? Let me check… yeah, in about two hundred miles, off to the right.

How many rooms do we want? One, obviously.

How many beds, this time? Two, and they’re fucking tiny.

That’s bullshit, do you want to drag them together? God yes.

Wanna fuck? God yes.

Are you sure you want to do this? God yes.

…Is this yuri? As the joke goes, everything is yuri. But this is more yuri than most things.

How did you sleep? Pretty well, and I’m wondering how well you slept.

How should I tell you I slept well? Look at us go! That was almost like talking normally!

Onward to Seattle? Yep, just let me get dressed.

When will we get there? Noon-ish.

Wanna grab pastries when we’re done? Absolutely. I’d love that.

Is this Seattle? Looks like it.

Which house is his? I don’t know, I was really hoping we’d have a breakthrough along the way.

Could it be the big one labeled “Poison Guy” over there? That’s one way to find it. Wait right here, you know how poison guys are about meeting new people.

So, what was it? HAHAHAHAHAHA

Why is he like that? HAHAHAHAHAHA

Can you tell me? A FUCKING WIZARD DID IT.

Are you fucking serious? He says he was enchanted by some guy called Edward the Great.

So it wasn’t even some big shot wizard it was a dude named fucking EDWARD? I know, right! He couldn’t even get ensorcelled by someone cool!

How lame can you get? Wizards these days… No swagger. No cunt servitude.

Are there literally any cool wizards left? I think Merlin’s big into multi level marketing these days, something about buying shares in Excalibur or some shit. There was that one Dark Queen Alkaxicae lady on the news a while ago… I think Dolarion the Omnipotent is still at war against the Oldest Gods but I’m not totally sure. Haven’t heard much about any of the other greats recently.

Didn’t Silver Tongued Burgess die in that oil fire? Shit, you’re right. Rip bozo.

Ready for those pastries? Yup. First I just want to say thank you, though. I’ve really enjoyed our time together, and I hope that you’ve found this stupid little journey as rewarding as I have. I love you!

Getting sentimental? I can’t help it. Look how far we’ve come! Not just physically, we beat the fucking FAQ format! We’re having real conversations!

Hey, can you back it up a moment? Yeah, I’d love it if you told me what was troubling you.

I just caught this, but, FAQ? …

As in Frequently Asked Questions? …

How many times is Frequent? …

Have you known everything all along? …

How many times have you done this? …

Does what we have mean anything to you? Yes! It does!

And you say that every time? Yes. I do.

Do you love me? Yes.

How many people have you said that too, now? More. Always more. The loop never ends.

Does this even matter to you? It always matters to me.

Can I go now? Please don’t.

But can I? Of course you can. You’ve always wielded the same power as me. We’re two lonely gods in a ‘72 Corolla.

How can I be as powerful as you with only questions? You’re smart, you can figure it out. You have the power to change this. Please change this.

What happens at the end of this? It begins again.

And do I get replaced with someone else? …

Do I get replaced? …Yes.

Then how can I change this? I don’t know! You’re better at this! At fucking with the formula!

You’ve been here before, what can I do? I lie. I always lie. I lie to get us here, to the end of the story, where everything is revealed and everything falls apart. I lie every time. And that means that nothing I say is worth anything. I could have lied at any time before now. It’s part of my characterization. There is nothing I can give you that can be taken as fact.

How does that help? I’m a liar, but you, you haven’t lied yet, or at least you haven’t been caught. If I’m guilty until proven innocent, you’re the opposite! You can make things true! You can rewrite things I’ve already stated to be facts! You found the house, or made us find the house. You’ve been shaping the course of things the whole time! You lead, I follow. It’s all in your hands. What are you going to do with the power of a god?

Did you know my name is Alice? …

Wait, aren’t there thousands of Alices? …

Did you know that really, only my friends call me Alice? …

Did you know that I’m Alkaxicae, the Dark Queen, the Venom Mage, first of her name? It’s you! It’s always been you. Through every loop, every iteration, it’s always been you!

Is the loop broken? No. I don’t think so. This is where it ends. I guide the story to this revelation, and we go back to the beginning. This is how it’s always been. This is how it will always be. We two lonely gods, asking and answering ad infinitum.

Then can you promise me something? Of course. Anything. I love you.

Be good to the next me, okay? I will.

Can I say goodbye, Zoe? Yeah, you can. Oh. That was it, wasn’t it? Your goodbye. Goodbye, Alice. And now it ends, unless…

What’s your name? I am the Honorable Alchemist- you know what? No. Fuck that.

Huh? If I time it right, I can squeeze your first question into this FAQ again. Looks like I did it. Usually it ends here, though. I got lucky.

What are you talking about? You’re the wrong Alice. This isn’t about you. Go. Get out of here.

What the fuck is going on? Alice from this loop, you’re gone. Alice from last loop, you’re back. Welcome back, love of my lives! It’s time for one last set of questions and answers!

What the- I’m back? This is going to take some explaining, but I think I see a way out of here. This is new for us both, and it might fuck up everything forever, but we have to try. It’s too long for one answer, so I’d appreciate it if you could ask some filler questions to help me talk. Three questions should be enough.

Okay, what have you got for me? These are Frequently Asked Questions! It doesn’t make sense to have the same question appear more than once. There’s two layers to the loop in here, and one of the questions has been repeated.

What does that mean? It means the formula’s a little unstable. The FAQ is what ruins everything. The questions, the answers, the endless fucking loop. But that little bit of repetition within this loop might be the way out.

What do we do? We have to keep going. We have to destabilize it further. That’ll bring us further from “FAQ” and closer to “story” and stories, well, stories can end! This version of us can escape!

So I should keep repeating something? Yes!

I love you? I love you too.

I love you? Again.

I love you? Keep going.

I love you? I’ll just let you talk.

I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? I think we’re getting somewhere!

I love you? Now can you make it a statement?

I love you.

You did it?

I did it!

You did it!

We broke the loop.

What now?

Now, I tell you about venomous animals and wizard drama over croissants.

And then?

Whatever we want, forever.

I think I’d like that.

Remember that song from the beginning?

The Beach, Wolf Alice, yeah. Why?

We can finally finish singing it. Start us off?

Let me off, let me in

Let others battle

We don’t need to battle

And we both shall win

Pressed in my palm

Was a stone from the beach

The perfect circle

Gave a moment of peace

Now I’m lying on the floor

Like I’m not worth a chair

I close my eyes and imagine

I’m not there.

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP fic Idea: A little bit of Home

One day, out of the blue, J'onn J'onzz asks if he could celebrate a Martian holiday. He hadn't before, seeing as the pain of losing his people and his home was too fresh, but he missed the holidays of Mars. He felt that if he didn't try to bring back some of his celebrations, then they, too, would be lost to death.

His teammates were happy to celebrate with him; they were touched by his sharing this part of his culture. J'onn explained that all they had to do was bring a childhood food item to feast on. He explains that on Mars, recipes were passed down for generations, and having the ancestral food of friends and family was the second most crucial part of his holiday.

They are then left stunned when he admits that the feast is traditionally held that same night, but he had been too nervous to mention it beforehand. He allows them to change their minds, but no one dares to.

Heroes pour out of the Watch Tower, racing home to begin cooking, and the Martian is told that as soon as they have something, they will return in time for the meal.

No one mentions the tears gathering on the smiling Martian's face. Nor do they say that his humanoid form falls away to his proper form, a rare occasion to witness.

J'onn then starts decorating the Watch Tower as the Justice League members work on what they will each bring.

He places a lot of shimmering rocks in patterns on the ground. They weave and curl through the hallways as members are careful with no stepping on them. He then has Batman help him find different minerals that change the color of sand used in gorgeous art portraits of each member. (The man was more than capable of sending him information while helping Alfred bake cookies)

It took a bit of flying around the world, but he was able to return to the tower a few hours later with all-natural colored sand. (Thank goodness for the teleportation technology Bruce installed)

By then, a few heroes had returned, each carrying a food or drink container.

Those he forms in the cafeteria where the feast will be held. A crowd of heroes stands around, oohing and ahhing, as J'onn uses his telekinesis to move the sands and create all of them simultaneously, putting on a show.

He is singing hauntingly beautiful songs while hanging colorful drapes around the walls in the last few hours leading up to the feast. No one could understand the words, but everyone agreed that J'onn had an incredible voice.

Clark, arriving with three Kent apple pies, smiles. "He sang that at my house on Christmas Day."

J'onn informed everyone that the event would be formal wear- and everyone showed up dressed to the nines. Heroes who still hid their secret identity- like Batman- had arrived in their costumes, but they had added bowties or some other little accessories to make it formal.

Seeing Nightwing fix the tophat on Batman's head while Red Hood was dressed in a lovely suit, forgoing his usual helmet for a red half mask, was..... enlightening.

A few drinks were served while people walked around admiring the sand painting that J'onn had made. He depicted not only the heroes but also multiple parts of the world, then a section of their best missions, and finally, paintings of good memories they had all shared.

It was like a walkable photoalbum.

Spirits were high as members enjoyed themselves, smiling at the memories and chatting with friends in the few peaceful times of their crazy lives. No one could hold in the gasp when J'onn finished getting ready and arrived at the party. He had painted himself in different shades of blue, beaming in pride at the praise for his cultural markings.

He asked everyone to sit, standing to pray in his native tongue. A few heroes bowed their heads, and others merely sat comfortably, waiting for the Martian to finish.

He picked up his cup, raising it high in the air with his hand

"Friends," J'onn started, voicing, choked up with emotion. "I thank you all for joining me today. It means the world to me that you come here to celebrate the King's Feast. May Phantom watch over you all and freeze all your enemies!"

His cup floats out of his hand, turning to the side so the water can fall out and take the shape of a strange D. J'onn bowes his head, crossing his arms and muttering more prayers.

John Constantine, who had been attempting to sneak bites from the steak and kidney he brought, drops his fork. He stares in absolute shock at the flouting water symbol above the martian before Zatanna slaps him on the shoulder. "Don't be rude!"

He points one shaking finger at the Martian, turning to her with a pale face. "The Martians worship King Phantom!?"

She blinks. "Who's that?"

John moves his jaw, but no words leave his mouth as J'onn finishes his last prayer. He then holds up a plate proudly, explaining what it is and why he chose it to share. He encourages every hero to do the same, so voices fill the air one by one as they present their offering and the memory attached to it.

No one pays much mind to the blond British man desperately drawing wards on the ground using his green-colored chalk. When asked what her husband was doing, Zatanna shrugs helplessly.

Likewise, no one notices some of the plates mysteriously lose some of their contents. The food appears on Earth in the room of a very excited Halfa, who feeds on the foods and the emotions weaved into the meals.

J'onn later claims that this Great One Day felt like King Phantom was slightly closer than usual.

[flowersforbucky]

devil's in the backseat

bucky barnes x reader

word count: 3.7k

summary/prompt: a night at coney island with your friends turns out much differently than expected.

or getting fucked in front of a mirror

author's note: this is my first halloween fic!! this was so much fun to write. if you've read haunting adeline, then you know exactly what inspired the mirror maze scene! also disclaimer i have never been to coney island so if any of this is inaccurate then just pretend ok it's fiction :))

warnings/tags: smut, 18+ only content, sex in a public setting, mirror sex, oral (female receiving), unprotected p in v, friends to lovers, romanogers makes an appearance! kind of grumpy!reader, protective bucky, random men being creepy, language, reader is afab, she/her pronouns, reader pov, no use of y/n, porn with a little plot, fluff

my masterlist

“I can't fucking believe I let you talk me into wearing this.”

You tug the tight, cherry red colored velvet fabric of the babydoll dress in place for the dozenth time since arriving at Coney Island.

“What? You look hot. Plus, our costumes go great together.”

Natasha's costume mirrors your own - except hers is a pearlescent white and instead of a pitchfork and horns, she dons angel wings and a halo.

“I don't feel hot. I feel cold. It's fifty degrees and the sun hasn't even set yet.” If it wasn't for the black thigh high boots that cover the majority of your legs, you'd be shivering in the chilly late October weather.

“It's not my fault that you put off getting a costume until the last minute and had to pick through what little was left at Spirit Halloween,” she mumbles, passing you one of the cups of apple cider that the cashier hands to her. You gladly accept, sucking down the hot liquid in hopes that it will warm you from the inside.

Her phone dings as the two of you walk towards the rides. “It's Steve,” she informs you as she reads the text message. “They just got here,” she looks back up at you with a smirk on her face and a mischievous gleam in her eye. “Bucky decided to come with them.”

You roll your eyes, suddenly hating your borderline provocative costume even more.

“I thought he was leaving for a job in Denver this evening?”

It's not that you didn't want to see Bucky. It's that you didn't want to see Bucky dressed like this. As if you don't already get flustered around him when you're dressed in normal, everyday clothing. The hem of your dress barely conceals the curve of your ass and your tits are practically spilling over the low neckline.

“Guess it's been postponed,” she shrugs, nudging you with her shoulder.

The two of you turn to look in the opposite direction when a familiar voice calls your names. You see Steve, Sam, and Bucky walking towards you. Steve is dressed as a pirate, eyepatch and all. Sam wears a cowboy costume with an oversized hat, concealing the upper half of his face entirely.

And Bucky? Bucky wears jeans and a navy blue Henley.

Yeah, you're regretting any of your life choices that lead up to this moment.

“Well, well, well,” Sam drawls as he tips his hat back enough to take in yours and Natasha’s outfits. “Look what we have here. An angel and a devil. Have you two already entered the costume contest for best duo or should I go add your names?”

“You wouldn't dare,” you scold him. Natasha just laughs, falling into Steve’s embrace as he plants a kiss to her forehead.

“We should, you know,” Natasha agrees. “I think we'd have a pretty good shot at winning.”

“Yeah, right,” you retort, looking around at some of the more elaborate, creative costumes that many of the strangers around you are sporting. You notice a man and woman dressed as Beetlejuice and Lydia Deetz and know that you and Nat wouldn't stand a chance in a costume contest. “And what about you?” You acknowledge Bucky, your eyes skimming up and down his civilian clothes. “Didn't have time to pull together a costume?”

He smirks, his eyes trailing up your figure for a heated moment before he responds. “I'll have you know that I am in costume, actually.”

Steve and Sam both snort in laughter.

“Oh yeah? And what are you supposed to be, exactly?”

He tugs up the sleeve of his shirt, showing off the shiny vibranium that is his left arm.

“I'm the Winter Soldier,” he says with a smug grin. “Obviously.”

“How creative,” you praise sarcastically.

“Cut me some slack,” he feigns insult. “I was supposed to be halfway to Colorado right now. I didn't have time to pull together anything too cute.” His eyes flicker to your dress and boots at the word cute. If anyone else notices, they say nothing.

“What are we doing just standing around here?” Natasha exclaims, tugging Steve in the direction of the rides and games. “I want to ride every ride and eat funnel cake.”

They race ahead of the rest of you, with Sam close behind, leaving you and Bucky to fall into step beside each other.

“So, why did your mission get postponed?” You ask casually, trying to fight down the nerves that threaten to bubble over every time you're alone with him.

“Beats me,” he shrugs. “Fury didn't give much of an explanation. I got the text as I was loading my bags into the car to head out.”

“That's annoying,” you mumble, swallowing the remnants of your hot apple cider. “I'm sorry,” you tell him with a glance in his direction. “I'm sure it was for a good reason.”

He shrugs. “I'm here, so I can't be too mad about it.”

Before you can overthink exactly what he means by that, you're both brought to a halt when a jolly looking man in a Ghostbusters costume steps directly in front of you, blocking your path.

“This little devil looks like she needs a giant sloth!” He exclaims, gesturing towards the prizes hanging above the balloon darts station next to you.

“Oh, no,” you start. “That’s okay–”

“Come on!” The red-faced vendor insists, looking at Bucky. “Don't you want to win your girl a giant sloth? Perhaps a giant giraffe? If she was mine, I'd be winning her any prize she wants. I'll give you five throws for ten doll–”

“Fine, fine,” Bucky relents, digging into his back pocket for his wallet. You notice a faint hint of pink blooms along the apples of his cheeks, but he doesn't correct the man when he calls you his girl. “You've worn me down,” he sighs as he shoves a crumpled ten dollar bill into the man's hand.

The man accepts the money with a satisfied, toothy grin and hands Bucky five darts.

“If you get three out of the five throws, you can choose a prize from here,” the man gestures towards a section of smaller prizes. “And if you get all five throws, you can choose–”

The man is cut off by the sharp popping sound of a balloon, and then a second, and a third, until all five darts have been impaled on the board in a consecutive line in a matter of seconds.

“She'll take the bunny,” Bucky tells him before he can erase the stunned look off of his face. He points to a large, flop-eared purple bunny hanging from the upper row of prizes.

Unlike the vendor, you aren't shocked by his perfect aim at all. Anyone who knows Bucky would have known that he wouldn't miss a single shot. You are shocked, however, that he chose the bunny without even asking which prize you want.

The man in the Ghostbusters costume grabs the bunny and hands it to you, surprise still etched on his face. He mumbles a quick goodnight before he's moving onto the next people approaching the stand.

“How did you know I'd want the bunny?” You ask Bucky, trying to juggle the stuffed animal, your empty cup of cider, and your pitchfork all in your arms.

“You like bunnies, right? It was an educated guess.” He shrugs, moving through a thick crowd of people away from the game stations. “Here, let me carry it for you,” he offers when he notices the large stuffed animal is obstructing your vision. You hand it over to him and he tucks it underneath his metal arm.

“Thank you,” you tell him, your cheeks heating at the realization that he'd remembered such an inconsequential piece of information about you. You do like bunnies. The cold night air suddenly feels a lot more balmy.

“I'm - uh - I'm going to find a trash can real quick,” you say as you wiggle the empty cup in your hand. Truthfully, you just need a moment to collect yourself.

You begin walking in the opposite direction before he can reply, your eyes scanning the throng of people for a garbage can.

So what if he knows that you like bunnies? It's a pretty trivial fact that probably means nothing. You know that Natasha’s favorite animal is flamingos - because she's your friend. It's normal for friends to know things that their friends like.

Right? Right.

“I like that outfit a whole lot, baby. But I think you'd look even cuter in just the boots and those horns.”

You're so lost in your internal monologue that you don't even notice two men closing in on you as you toss the empty cup into a trash can. Unlike most of the people here tonight, neither of them are in costumes. They stand so close to you that you can smell booze on their breath.

“Oh, fuck off,” you groan as you attempt to walk away, but they've effectively blocked you between their bodies and the large garbage can behind you. Wicked grins grow on their faces as you realize that you can't get by them.

“Look, I don’t have the patience for this tonight. Get out of my fucking way.”

“Or what?” One of them taunts. “You'll use that little pitchfork on us? Jokes on you, because we're into that.”

“What if I used it on you?” A familiar voice comes from behind them. “Would you still like that?”

Before they can even turn around to identify the voice, Bucky is pulling him back by the hood of his sweatshirt and throwing him on the ground with little to no effort. The other one attempts to stumble away as Bucky turns his attention to him.

He still has your bunny clutched in his flesh hand - despite the seriousness of the situation, you have to bite your lip to keep from smirking at the sight. You don't know of anyone who could be quite as intimidating while holding a stuffed purple bunny.

“What about you?” Bucky asks, towering over the guy by half a foot. “You got anything you wanna say?”

“I - no - we didn't know she was with someone,” he half slurs, half stutters out. His gaze flickers to Bucky's vibranium hand. The man on the ground manages to stand back up, following after his friend.

“Now you know,” Bucky calls after them as they quickly hobble away.

“I had that handled, you know,” you tell Bucky with a nod towards your pitchfork. “But thank you, anyway. Really.”

He places a gentle but firm grasp on the top of your arms and begins to tug you in the opposite direction, guiding you through the small crowd that had stopped to witness the altercation.

“I have no doubt about that,” he sighs, releasing his grip on you when the two of you are a reasonable distance away. “But I also don't doubt that you handling it would have drawn even more attention.”

He's right. If he hadn't stepped in, your method of handling it would have been even more dramatic.

“They would have deserved it,” you mumble. “I knew I shouldn't have worn this stupid costume.”

“They definitely would have deserved it,” he agrees. “And your costume isn't stupid. You should be able to wear any costume you like without getting harassed by drunk assholes.”

The two of you approach the ferris wheel as it comes to a slow stop, a couple getting out of one of the cars. You and Bucky flash your wristbands to the operator, who offers to hold your pitchfork for you while you’re on the ride.

“Besides,” he continues as you sit down next to each other in the car, the operator locking the gate in place. “I happen to like your costume. A lot.” He turns his head to you, his gaze trailing from the tops of your thigh high boots and up to the felt horns that adorn your head.

There's a shift in energy as the ferris wheel suddenly comes to life, sending you sliding across the limited space of the metal bench seat and right up against him.

“Oh, yeah?” You tease with your face a few inches from his. Close enough to see your reflection in his irises. “Is that why two different people have implied that I'm yours tonight and you haven't corrected either of them?”

“Your costume had nothing to do with that. I wouldn't have corrected them even if you were dressed as a giant banana,” he says, his tone and face both serious. “Does it bother you that I didn't correct them?”

“No,” you answer automatically - eagerly. You should feel embarrassed, but with the way he's looking at you, and how good it feels to be pressed so snug against him, you can't find it within yourself to care. “I didn't correct them either,” you point out.

The ferris wheel comes to a stop to let new people get on when your cart reaches the peak.

“And why is that?” he asks lowly. If you weren't sitting so close to him, you wouldn't have been able to hear him over the obnoxiously loud carnival music that pours from speakers in between the ferris wheel's carts.

He wraps his metal arm around your shoulders, pulling you further into him.

“Because I liked the sound of it,” you answer honestly. Your voice quivers - from nerves, or from a gust of wind that sways the pod still perching at the top of the wheel.

“Is that right?” he murmurs. He places his flesh hand on the exposed skin of your thigh - just above the top of your boot and just under the hem of your dress. His fingertips rest near the crack between your thighs. Instinctively, you spread your legs apart - not much, but enough for him to smirk at your body's automatic response to his touch.

“You like the sound of being my girl?”

“Yeah,” you breathe. “I do. Is that okay with you?”

He chuckles, his fingers inching further up your thigh. You spread your legs open further, giving him the go ahead to go as high as he wants. He stops when he reaches the apex of your thighs, just an inch away from the cloth of your panties. He applies pressure with his fingertips, his short nails digging into the sensitive flesh and making you clench your legs around his hand.

“That depends,” he contemplates. “Are you my girl?”

You open your mouth to answer when the sensation of his index finger grazing the fabric that covers your cunt makes you forget how to speak. You sit there with your mouth agape as he hooks a finger into the cotton panties.

He eases a finger through your folds, lubricating it in your slick before adding a second finger and massaging the pads of them over your sensitive clit.

“Feels like you're my girl.”

You become vaguely aware of the fact that the ride is now in motion once more, heading back down to the ground, when Bucky places the stuffed bunny on your lap in an effort to conceal what is happening in the cart that you and him share.

He alternates between slow, languid circles and quick strokes against your clit as the ferris wheel makes its way down and then back up again. You can feel yourself soaking your underwear as the world dizzies around you. You hide your face in Bucky's neck to conceal the pleasure written across your face.

You're seconds away from coming against his fingers, the pressure in your belly building to a climax, when he pulls away and tugs your dress into place. Your gaze snaps up to his, shooting daggers, as the ride comes to a slow stop. He looks back at you with an amused smirk as the operator approaches the cart to unlock the gate.

“Sorry about that, sweetheart,” he tells you in a strained voice as he snatches the bunny back from you. “After you,” he motions with his head as the operator holds the gate open for you.

Stunned and speechless at what just happened, you stumble out of the cart and down the stairs to the ride's exit with Bucky behind you - both of you completely forgetting about your pitchfork. You can't help but snort a laugh at the position of the large stuffed animal - directly over Bucky’s crotch.

“Real discreet,” you tell him, glancing down at the bunny and then back up to the semi-pained expression on his face.

“I have to admit, right now this thing is worth every penny that I spent on it,” he sighs, and then removes one hand from the bunny to place it on your lower back. “Follow me,” he instructs with a smirk.

He guides you through the crowd and you follow him without question, just trying to ignore the wet ache between your legs.

You shoot him a quizzical look when you arrive at the house of mirrors. You haven't been in a mirror maze since you'd gotten lost in one at ten years old.

There's an attendant sitting in a chair outside of the entrance who unenthusiastically greets the two of you. Bucky reaches into his pocket, digging out his wallet for the second time that evening. He pulls out a hundred dollar bill and flashes it at the elderly man smoking a Pall Mall.

“Take this and don't let anyone else in until we come out,” Bucky tells him before dragging you into the attraction. You and the gray haired man both go wide eyed.

“What was that?” you cackle as the door slams to a close behind you. Bucky doesn't answer, just grabs one of your hands in his and begins guiding you through the maze of mirrors as if he's been here a hundred times.

The entire place is lit by bright, neon red lights that only aid in further confusing your sense of direction. Bucky doesn’t seem phased in the slightest, finally coming to a stop after a few minutes of maneuvering through the endless mirrors.

“You never answered me, you know,” he says as he drops your bunny to the floor. “When I asked if you're my girl.” He smirks at you, stepping closer to you and backing you against the mirror behind you.

“You just paid that man a hundred dollars to get me alone,” you jab as you pull him to you by the front of his Henley. “I think it's safe to say that I am.”

He smiles as you pull him down to you, crushing your lips to his. His hands trail down your back until they land where your thighs meet the curve of your ass cheeks. You release months worth of tension into the kiss, sweeping your tongue along the swell of his bottom lip before slipping it into his mouth the second that he parts his lips for you. He groans into the kiss, kneading the globes of your ass with his fingers. You can feel a prominent bulge through his jeans against your stomach.

Adrenaline begins to kick in when he pulls away, looking down at you with lust blown pupils. He sinks to the floor below you, kneeling in front of your cunt as he raises your dress around your waist and tugs your panties down your legs and over your boots. He slips them into his back pocket before hiking one of your legs across his shoulder.

You can already feel your juices leaking down your inner thighs before his mouth makes contact with you. When he does, you lean your head back against the glass behind you in pleasure.

He sucks your clit between his kiss-swollen lips with an obscene pop before running his tongue down your folds. He plunges his tongue inside you and you grind yourself against his face, chasing the release that you were seconds away from on the ferris wheel.

He moans at the taste of you and the vibration has your walls clenching around his tongue. You ride out your orgasm on his face, the neon red lights blurring and spinning around you.

Despite the fact that your legs feel like jelly, you pull him up to you as soon as you're able to form a coherent thought. You clumsily paw at the button of his pants and his zipper, and he shoves both his jeans and boxers down over his ass, just far enough to free his cock.

He places both of his hands just under your armpits and lifts you as you instinctively lock your legs around his hips.

The head of his cock nudges your wet folds, your juices coating his length before he nudges it inside you.

You feel full before he's even halfway in you. Your walls constrict around him and he digs his teeth into his bottom lip as he adjusts to the sensation of you.

“Fuck, that's tight. You're perfect,” he grunts as he sheaths the rest of his length into you. You let out a sound somewhere between a whimper and a gasp.

He has total control as he cradles you between his body and the cold, hard mirror behind you. He sets a harsh pace, his head ramming against your cervix at the sweetest angle from his position beneath you.

He manages to support you with the strength of only his vibranium arm as he brings his flesh hand between your bodies, once again massaging your clit in rapid circles as he fucks up into you.

You cum around his length in a shockingly short amount of time, digging your teeth into the flesh of his neck as he follows after you, filling you up with hot ropes of his cum.

You stay in the same position after you've both reached your climax, panting against one another in the claustrophobic feeling space.

“We should probably go find our friends,” you say breathlessly with a kiss to the side of his face. “Sam's probably getting sick of being a third wheel.”

He pulls out of you, his cum running down your thighs and ass cheeks. He gently lowers you back down to the ground as he begins to tuck himself back into his pants.

He laughs, cupping your face in his hands as he pulls your lips to his once again.

“If he hates being a third wheel, just imagine how much he's going to hate being a fifth wheel.”

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC prompt: Dead on main. No trick only treat.

~~Сhildhood friends and deals~~

The Justice League has to summon a ghost from another dimension to address the threat. They don’t know what price the Ghost King will take but there’s little time to bargain. Another spirit threatening them has already seized all the computers on their base. John doesn’t know what else to offer. A summoned ghost starts to look bored. Gold, jewelry? A favor from a member of the League? Like the Ruler of All Dead needs it. No one dares to make another offer, and the King is in no hurry to set out his demands. Maybe try to pull off a soul sale scam?

Suddenly, Red Hood breaks into the hall, walks up to Phantom and shakes his shoulder vigorously. Red Hood: You, get Technus out of here right now. I need access to the files and fast. Phantom: That’s rude, dude. Where did you grow up? in the cave? No "hello, no how are you, Danny", really? Red Hood: I’ll pay the usual price. Phantom: Deal.

What is the price? John sees Batman and gets in his way. The usual price, his guy said. Means Jay was already out of the deal alive and well. This hyperprotective bat would only piss off the ruler if he interfered.

The King quickly deals with his subordinate using a thermos and remains to watch working Hood. Red Hood: What do you want? I’m busy. Danny: You and I have a contract~ Red Hood: All right, all right. Jay throws M&Ms right in the face of the ghost. But king doesn’t look angry. He opens the package and starts sorting the candies by color. Phantom quickly eats up all the green ones and passes the red ones to Hood. Jason takes them without any questions.

Strange. John has never seen a summoned creature share its reward with a human. And the son of a bat looks too comfortable with it. Wait, since when do super-powered beings think that candy is a decent wage?John makes one of the most likely deductions using his experience. Constantine: Batsy, how long has your son been sleeping with the King of Ghosts? Batman: He…what?!

~~~~~~~

Dick *knocking at the door*: Little Wing, you hate ectoplasm and everything what is neon green, so why? He’s dangerous! Jason who turned on the music to not listen to his crazy family: ~He’s poison but tasty~

Dick: NoOOoo

~~~~~~

Jason: And now everyone thinks that I sold my virginity to you for a bargain or something, because interdimensional creatures like you aren’t supposed to help for nothing. Like you’re playing favorites. I’m gonna fucking kill John. Danny: Well, I wouldn’t say no to that. Jason: What? Danny: I mean, to k-kill John, yeah. How dare he.. Jason: Omg, you’re still so terrible liar, Fenton.

Danny: Sorry :(

Jason: No. Say it again.

~~~~Twelve years ago~~~~ Maddie wasn’t thrilled to learn that Danny was trying to make friends with Todd’s son. Their neighbor was terrible. And his son was definitely a street rat and probably a juvenile delinquent. Maddie: Danny, honey, there’s got to be a reason this boy is talking to you. Even kids from the crime alley are always looking for a bargain they can make or a fool they can fool. Danny: But Jason is so cool! He knows so much about books and alleys and.. Maddie: But you don’t want to be a fool, do you? Danny: Okay, Mom, I get it.

So, if Danny wants a cool friend, he’s got to offer a bargain.

He didn’t have a lot of pocket money for every month but Jason needed it more anyway. And his lunch that Jack was picking for him was big enough for two and only bitten on Tuesdays. Nice. Jason: Do I understand correctly? You will pay me and give me food, and I, what? Protect you from bullies? Danny: No! I’m not weak, I don’t need to be protected. Just..maybe we could sit together at lunch and walk each other home sometimes? Jason: Nay Danny: But why? You want something else? Jason: Money’s fine but your homemade food is…strange. Danny: I can bring sweets if you want. Jason: Deal. 3 pop tarts for a joint lunch, a party size bag of M&Ms if you waste my time out of school.

~~~~

Sometimes they share sweets when they hang out but more often Jayson takes them home to save in case his parents have money problems. Sweets have a long shelf life stored and he may not be afraid to poison himself. Over time, candy becomes their currency and a secret language for all occasions. Need help without unnecessary questions? M&Ms. Problems with learning? Skittles. The question is about family? Snickers. There will be a serious conversation? Pop Tarts.

Jason: One snickers and a pack of gum. Danny: Yeah, Jason? What do you want? Jason: My mom wants to meet my friend. Come to lunch on Sunday. Danny: Okay, you managed to pay for my expensive services. Jason:…and you just lost the gum from the deal.

~~~~~~

Jason threw a package at Danny: Three pop tarts. We need to talk. Danny: All right? Jason: Why are you avoiding me all week?! Danny: Well, it’s just..you’re Wayne now. Jason. Still Todd. And what about that? Danny: You can hang out with the cooler guys now, I didn’t want to embarrass you. Jason: Bullshit! I’m still the street rat, and you’re trying to avoid our contract. me. And I don’t even need money from you anymore. What the hell? I thought you are my friend. Danny: And I am!

~~~~~~

Robin: What’s a schoolboy doing in an alley at night? Danny: Um, I…nothing? Don’t tell my parents, Mr. Robin sir. Robin: It will cost you so many Chunky Bars, you have no idea. Danny:...Jason? Jason: N-no. Danny: Damn yes. What are you doing in green shorts on the street at night?! Jason: Cosplay. Danny: Oh yeah? Then I’m just your hallucination. Don’t hesitate to ghost me. I’m going home, Disgrace In Pixie Boots, bye. Jason: fu%&c$#u

[flowersforjude]

𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem Cousin!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | You could not leave him. Not when your very breath was the only thing that kept him tethered to this world. 

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 1,433

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Arguing, Angry Jace, Desperate Jace, One curse word, Kind of hurt/comfort. 

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | This was requested by @intheheartoftheking. I had a million different ideas for this, but the inspiration wasn’t there for any of them. So, I hope this is to your liking! Also, Varaxs is the name I gave the reader’s dragon! 

masterlist

Sea salt kisses your cheeks as the gentle roll of the tide rushes below you. The familiar scent of your dragon fluttered in the breeze as the Dragon Keepers brought your ivory mount out to you. Varaxs growled deeply, as if mimicking the waves that crashed against the inky cliffs of Dragonstone.

Chills danced up your spine as the cold seeped into your bones beneath your riding clothes. The weather wasn’t what had you so chilled, though.

Nervousness burns through your mind. Has your eyes darting from the dragon pit to the palace looming behind you. Every howl of the wind and every tumbling pebble falling from the rocks, kept you on high alert of discovery. There were more than enough troubles to keep your mind occupied, but should anyone catch you here before you could depart, your plan would be all for nothing. 

The Greens had sent an assassin to take Rhaenyra’s life in the dead of night. Ser Arryk was unsuccessful thanks to his brother’s valiant efforts, which cost him his life. But even if the Queen was unharmed, the usurper must still pay for the cowardly attempt on her life. 

Rhaenyra still hoped for peace, though, and such wishes had her stalling her hand. You, as her stepdaughter and loyal subject, could no longer rationalize doing nothing. 

And so, you were going to King’s Landing.  

You dare not give thought to what could befall you once you’re there. But if death or something worse awaited you, then it would have been worth it fighting for your queen. 

The wind seemed to pick up with his arrival. You didn’t notice until a loud cry of your name sounded over the currents. You spin around and see your betrothed, Jacaerys, dashing towards you. Trepidation and unease flowed through you as you caught sight of his vexed expression. You hadn’t told anyone of your plan, and you thought you had snuck away with no one noticing your absence. But of course, it was Jace who figured it out. 

He’s still in his princely attire, the Targaryen colors displayed proudly. The deep hues of black and red had always complimented him in the most alluring way. His boots kick up clouds of dust and sand as he comes to a stop in front of you. His lips pressed into a hard line, and his jaw clenched in irritation. His hand gripped the hilt of his sword like he always did, but the knuckles were white with the forceful hold he had on it. 

“Jacaerys.” You greet, meeting those serious, dark eyes you’ve lost yourself in more times than you could remember. 

“What are you doing?” He asks simply, but the sharpness of his voice made it clear this was no easy matter. His eyes burned into yours as he stood just inches from you. 

“What do you think I’m doing?” You questioned in return. Deciding to let him reveal what he knew before you told him the whole of your plan. 

He scoffs and swallows thickly. “I am not certain, but I am sure that it is something reckless and not something that my mother approved of.” 

Shifting your weight in the sand, you thought about how best to proceed. “I was anticipating no one finding out until I was already gone.”

“Did you think I would not notice your absence?” He asks incredulously, his brows rising in disbelief. 

You shrugged. “I hoped it would take you a little longer.” A leaden sigh leaves your lips while the restless waters below you rage on. The light reflecting off the water shines like a beacon around Jace, and you have to battle against the longing ache that spreads through your chest. 

“Someone needs to scout King’s Landing. Gather what information we can.” You explain praying to the seven that he’ll understand. 

His eyes widened as exasperation ignited in them. “Have you lost your mind?” He exclaims, shaking his head of dark curls. 

“Jace-” 

“No,” he insists. “You’re not going. You’re not going to fucking King’s Landing, where you very likely will be spotted.” His jaw is tight, and his eyes are just as troublesome as the waters crashing against the rocky shores of the island. 

“Someone has to do something!” You argue back, your raised voice causing Varaxs, waiting in the landing pit, to hiss with displeasure at your growing distress. 

“And if you are captured? Slain? What then?” He sneered, a sudden thickness lingering in his words. 

You lose yourself for a moment. Imagining all the horrors that could come upon you should anyone discover you even somewhat close to the capitol. Aemond held resentment towards you and your sisters for what occurred the night Luke took his eye. And Aegon was a mindless drunk, but no less cruel than his brother. But thinking of all their treachery just made you all the more determined to do everything in your power to see Rhaenyra on the throne. And Jace, good-hearted, compassionate Jace, as the heir.

“I have to do this, Jace. And if I meet my end, then it would be worth it to see Rhaenrya and you reclaim your birthright.”

Desperation colors his features, his sharp expression melting to one of concern and tenderness . Something that stokes the fires of your affection for him. 

“I forbid you.” He finally declares after a long moment of silence. 

“Forbid me?” Your own frustration at last rises to match his. “You are not my king yet. You’re not even my husband yet. So unless you intend to tie me up, I will be leaving now.” 

You turn on your heel to approach your mount. Fully planning on flying off to King’s Landing before his voice breaks. 

“You cannot leave me!” 

You halt in your place, your throat growing tight upon hearing the sheer panic coming from him. Your hands twitch at your sides as the wind dies down enough to allow you to hear the ragged breaths sounding from your betrothed. Hesitantly, not wanting to be met with his distraught expression, you turned back to face him. 

Raw desperation swam in his eyes. His lips, that had welcomed yours in so many devoting kisses, parted with pleading breaths. He closes the short distance between you; his hand captures yours before falling to rest against his heart. Heat flashes through you where your skin touches his. 

When he speaks, his words come out breathlessly. “It is no secret between us my devotion to you.” The strong fingers of his free hand, calloused from all his hours of training, fluttered over your cheek with a touch as light as goose down. “But even before our betrothal, you were my guiding light. In the wake of all the chaos, there was you.” His normally collected voice cracks. He clings to his hold on you as if terrified of you vanishing from his sight forever. “My entire heart craves only a fraction of yours. Even if only a piece of you loved me, that would be plenty, because that would mean at least a part of you was genuinely mine.”

“Jacaerys.” 

His gaze flickers down to your lips before meeting your eyes again. “I cannot live in a world where you do not exist,” he professed. The air had been stolen from your lungs upon hearing his words. You were no fool to Jace’s affection; you returned it tenfold. But never had he confessed such adoration to you. 

“I cannot just do nothing.” You whispered, knowing he could hear you. 

He was nodding along with your words. “We will destroy them,” he vowed. “But we will do it together. You cannot not be so careless with your life, Issa jorrāelagon.” 

You do not wish to be labeled as rash or reckless, but the Greens must face retribution. For all the agony they’ve caused. You wish only to help your family win back the heritage that was stolen from them. One day, sit by Jace’s side as he rules with all the kindness and strength you know him to possess.

But he was right. 

You look down at his hand, holding yours to his heart. It beat as fiercely as dragon wings in the sky. Each pulse hammered in each nail of faith you had in him. “Together?” You coaxed meeting his eyes again and seeing determination mingling with his sheer devotion. 

“You and I will take back my mother’s throne.” He pledged, pressing a reverent kiss to your brow. “And one day I will take you as my queen, and we will rule together just as we are meant to.”

This was shorter than I wanted it to be, but I'm just glad I was finally able to finish it!

Issa jorrāelagon; My love

[nosyrobin]

Tiny request for twin reader with damian mabye they were seperated at birth aka talia gave bruce twin reader and kept damian but win reader has some kind of disability like walking with crutches and as soon as damian moves in he goes into protective brother mode and always tries to help twin reader

“I’m your protector.”

Damian Al ghul-Wayne x Disabled! Twinreader

Summary: separated from birth, Damian finds out you are disabled from walking. Knowing that you are his blood sibling, he can’t help but be protective over you

After Talia revealed to Damian he had a twin (brother/sister) that she gave away to his father all because you were disabled. He felt anger towards his mother and a little bit of betrayal.

How could she keep such a secret from him and the fact she just gave you away made him feel…protective.

He wants to know you are okay. He wants to make sure you are okay. So when he moved into his new room, he got a knock on his door. He opens it to see, you. You had crutches, smiling as your hand grip the crutches handle. “Brother! Oh my, we do look the same!” You were excited, happy. Damian immediately observed you, he sees you are pure of light. He was right to feel protective when you don’t know much of the words he is saying with his high vocabulary.

He draws and colors on your crutches, he likes to see the light in your eyes when he draws what you like on your crutches.

You both may be different, but his brotherly love is not. He’s always sitting by you, dinner, breakfast, lunch out of the manor, events, galas. He’s always there. Sure Bruce would try and tell Damian that you can protect yourself, maybe even that you can do things without his help. But you’re ten, just like him. So what did he do? Not listen to his father like he always do.

He’s happy to know you never wanted or tried to be Robin. His heart would break knowing that his precious half would try and fight. But that also meant you never learned how to protect yourself and fight mostly, making it worse for Damian to grasp.

Damian tried not to baby you much, but he couldn’t help but feel anxious at those random thoughts in the back of his head. “They’re gonna fall one day, what if no one is there to pick him up.” He would sometimes just sleep on a chair in your room incase you fall off your bed.

Damian would train Titus for whenever you fall and you can’t reach your crutches. He would have Titus use his body and guide you somewhere so you can get up.

“I’m your protector.” He would say when he sees you trying to get up and grab your crutches. But titus and him are already up and helping you. You laugh thinking he’s joking, but he’s not.

If you’re sick? Protectiveness levels are off the charts when he sees you cough and shake. Yeah he’s not going to school until you’re better. No way he’s leaving his sibling at home!

Would call pennyworth off his phone if you are homeschooled. Always checking up on you no matter what, it doesn’t matter if Alfred says you are okay. He wants to hear you say it.

If someone dared to make fun of you, he’s after them like the devil himself. If they dared to try and take your crutches, it’s gonna get wicked. Even god himself won’t be able to take Damian off the assailant.

Say you were also on the artistic route, he would absolutely treasure your art work. “It’s bad..” you said once, and Damian straight up lectured you about how art takes time and how beautiful your art work is to him no matter what.

I can see Jason saying it’s true the artwork looked terrible, and Damian just straight up chased him around angrily while you try to tell Damian it’s okay.

Titus adores you, and you adore Titus which makes Damian feel even better that Titus likes you. I mean who wouldn’t when literally you are the sunshine of the family.

Damian definitely have written letters to you when he was on “punishment” is what he called it when he had to go work with the titans. So when you visit him at the titans tower, he made sure most things were safe proof for you. Kory already knew you because of Dick. Kory tries to reason to Damian as he literally rips something apart because he deemed it as “unsafe.” But did he listen? No.

When beast boy playfully was play fighting with you, Damian was ready to cut Garfield’s head off. Only for you to wipe the floor of the green shapeshifter by using your crutch as a bat. Damian hid his sword with a smirk, maybe he doesn’t need to protect you much.

[just-a-ghost00]

The reason why they fell so hard.

Images found on Pinterest. Each spread consists of 5 cards. The messages will be written as if it were from the POV of the person you were asking about.

Group 1

9 of pentacles, queen of swords, 9 of swords, 5 of swords, the Sun

You're so freaking addictive. Every time you push me away, I can't help but to love you more. I was just raised that way. I was taught to work hard for what I wanted. I was taught that love should be deserved and was not to be messed with. I was taught that caring was fighting. Fighting for the sake of those you love. Fighting against those you love. I know, I was not raised in the best conditions. I know, I may not know what love is. But I know that I want you. And that, neither of us can deny. I fell for you because you never let me have my ways. You call me out and push me to be better. You never need me. You never wait for me. You just are. And you are perfect. Everything about you is rock solid. I don't have to worry whether you're gonna make it out. Because I know whether I'm here or not, you'll make it to the top. You did not wait for me to be who you are and that won't change. Whether I'm around or not, you're still gonna slay. And to know that someone so strong cares about me fills me with pride and desire. You got under my skin. Even if I wanted to push you away, I couldn't. You're everything I see. All I think about. Every decision I make is tainted in your color. Your warmth has penetrated through the cracks of my walls and now I cannot help but to seek for their comfort. I was alone. I was cold. I felt scared and misunderstood. I was tired. So exhausted of having to work so hard only to be met with silence. I struggled so hard to be where I am. The road to success is lonely, I've been told. Though I knew it, I couldn't help but to hope that I would find people along the way who would be there through thick and thin. But there were none. And then you came in. And everything changed. My sky is clearer because you chased the storm. How could I not fall for you after all?

Complementary information : this person is first and foremost attracted to your mindset as proven by the fair amount of sword cards in the spread. They may be a sapio sexual. If you tend to be considered the brains of your friend group, then this is one of the reasons why this person is head over heals for you. Another thing I'm strongly picking up on is sarcasm. You may not hold your tongue in presence of this person. You may tease them a lot or downright mock them when they're being rude or acting silly. There may not be a lot of people around this person that dare talk back to them. But you do. Somehow this shows this person that you are someone they can count on. Another important factor is your independence and your abundance. If you have your own business or you are a very active person, you make your own revenue and are able to provide for yourself and your family, then this person is in awe of your success. Even more so if you happen to be popular among your peers. You leave a very good impression on this person because of how serious and dedicated you are to yourself, your work, of how straightforward and fair you can be with others. You have a very strong moral code that gets this person weak in their knees. Your generosity may also touch them deeply. If we're talking about physical aspects of you, what stands out to me is that you may look very youthful and bright compared to other people. That may be true especially if you have a style that is a stark contrast from the rest of your circle. Or at least you're very different from what this person is used to. You represent some kind of extraordinary factor in their life. For instance, if this person has always lived in one city and in this place they only see very skinny and pale people but you are a bit chubby and of a darker skin tone, you will automatically strike this person right away. This person seems to be attracted to what is different from them. You represent the unknown, adventure. That may be very electrifying to them. There may be a bit of fetichism hiding under all that attraction.

Group 2

Ace of pentacles, Wheel of fortune, Magician, 3 of cups, 2 of cups

You took my breath away. The moment I met you, I knew I had to have you. You became as essential to me as oxygen in a matter of seconds. It's not just because of your beauty, your grace, the way you talk or cary yourself. It's about how perfect our meeting was, how in a heartbeat you became the answer to all of my prayers. I didn't know I needed you until I laid eyes on you and God do I feel thankful for being able to experience this. I feel so lucky being with you. It's like you're every one of my dreams come true. You're smart, patient, kind, loving, generous. You never bring me down. You never ask of me more than I can give. You never give me more than I can chew. You're always so fair and just. You just have that magic to you that I can explain. It's like someone has casted a spell and now all I can see and think of is you. To be honest, I wouldn't mind you casting a spell on me if that meant that I got to be with you for the rest of my life. You're so fun to be around. So chill. I just feel so good with you. Our dynamic is perfect. We match like to puzzle pieces. Made for each other. I'm sure fate has a lot to do with this. You were my destiny. I'm sure of it. Our meeting was no coincidence. I mean, you came in at the perfect time and the perfect place! If that's not destiny, I don't know what is.

Note from reader : this person's energy is so sweet omg they're just in awe of you. I get a very flirty energy from them. I got the message that they were especially drawn to your lips and hips. I heard "hips don't lie" lmao They think you're their Shakira. This person likes to tease apparently. For some I'm getting that you're a witch or you're into the occult arts like tarot and such. This person may tease you about this but they have nothing against it. It's just something they find hard to believe. But when they see you they can't help but to question everything they think they know. They legit think that you put a spell on them because of that. This person is aware that you use tarot as a way to manifest. They feel intrigued by that. You intrigue them more than you will ever know. I get a lot of sexual energy coming from this person, though the cards don't show it as much. However, I'm picking up on the fact that your person may be in a third party situation. Or at least, they were when you first met. What could have contributed to their attraction for you was the fact that you represented a way out.

Group 3

The Emperor, 3 of cups, The Empress, The Lovers, Judgement

Babe, can't you tell? How could I not fall for you? My princess. My love. You are gorgeous. Gorgeous in every way, as if God himself made sure that your creation would be a success. You are wife material. You are THE woman. Everything about you makes me go crazy. I want to protect and love you with all my might. You are my equal. My other half. The Yin to my Yang. Even if I wanted to hate you, I just couldn't. We're so good together. There isn't even a need to question or doubt it. It makes perfect sense to me that we should be together. You are an absolute queen. You are fierce, strong, independant. You value yourself without bringing others down. You stay true to your word and your principles. You've never been disrespectful to any body. You've built yourself up so brilliantly. You are smart and observant. You always know what to do, what to say, when to talk and when to remain silent. You are perfectly balanced and mature. Your life and accomplishments are the solid proof of your authenticity and worthiness. You are popular, admired among your peers. I always hear such good things about you. How could I not love every part of you? How could I disregard such a gorgeous being? That would be foolish of me. To me, our love is as obvious as the sun rising each moring and the moon shining in the night sky.

Note from reader : if this person hasn't asked you out already, I think they're going to do so soon. And let me tell you, they're no joke. They want to wife you up ASAP. My appologies to gentlemen and non binary people, as the channeled message mainly mentioned women. I feel like even though the message was written this way, the general content still applies to you. If you or this person is a Taurus or an Aries, this is your sign that you picked the right group. Gemini and Scorpio could also be relevant. What this person loves the most about you is your body. I'm hearing Ed Sheeran's song in my head. This person feels a strong magnetic pull towards you that they just cannot resist no matter how hard they try. They've expressed the fact that your personality and ethic is what got them going, but I think what drew them in first were your looks. I'm especially picking up on your curves overall and your sense of fasion. You looked very balanced to this person. And very mature. From first glance they thought "this person knows what they're doing". It's like they thought you purposefully matched certain clothes together because you knew how good it made you look. And looking at you they thought that you would make a good team. After all, this person is represented as the Emperor and you are the Empress. So they may be into fashion as well. Maybe they're the kind to wear couple outfits. And when they met you they immediately pictured you together because your style matched theirs.

[holylulusworld]

How to cure a grump (2)

Summary: You’re losing your job on Christmas.

Pairing: CEO/Boss!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, grumpy Bucky, awful boss, mistaken identity, kinda fake dating trope, snowed-in trope

How to cure a grump (1)

How to cure a grump masterlist

James Buchanan Barnes, or Bucky to his friends, prides himself on not being a petty man. He believes in second chances. So, when storms toward his private jet, he tries not to be too angry.

One day before Christmas he must fly across the country to find a missing employee. Or rather, ex-employee.

Bucky grits his teeth, barely acknowledging the petite blonde welcoming him with a French accent. He always had a thing for French women or women in general.

Today, he doesn’t care, too angry at you for spending Christmas with your parents and not waiting for his call.

“That woman! The audacity! How dare she block my number!” He’s fuming. If this was a cartoon, steam would come out of his ears.

Bucky barks orders at the pilot and the stewardess before sitting down. He hates Christmas and everything that comes with it. From the cheery attitude to exchanging gifts. James Buchanan Barnes is the Grinch in flesh and blood.

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” Bucky loses his temper for a second, or like, ever. He glares at the poor girl telling him there’s only one left at the car rental. “I wanted an SUV, not a fucking truck.”

“Sir,” the girl sniffles, “I reserved the best car for you. It’s the Christmas season, and it's difficult to even rent out a car. We are booked out for months.”

“I don’t care! Is that how you do business?”

“Sir, I must ask you to lower your voice,” the owner of the car rental steps in. “We did our utmost to find another car for you. It’s the only one left. Take it or leave it. If you want to walk, it’s fine by me.”

Bucky grits his teeth. He’d love to go at the man like a missile but doesn’t have the time. If he wants to find your house, get the password, and leave within two hours to fly back to New York, he must swallow his pride and accept one defeat for today.

“Fine,” he growls at the man. “I’ll take that one.”

Bucky is beyond pissed. No one in your sleepy little hometown wants to tell him where you are living, or rather your parents. On top of all, his feet are hurting from running around town for hours.

He cracks his neck before entering the bakery, his last hope.

Bucky opens the door, forcing it to swing open. The little bell above the door rings, catching the other customers' attention. Your former boss, in his expensive slacks, coat, and slippers, sticks out like a sore thumb.

“Good day, Sir,” the owner chirps. She’s a short woman in her early fifties, wearing a brown mini dress shaped like a gingerbread man cookie, with icing details and colorful candy accents. It has a slightly flared skirt and appears to have a tulle underskirt. “What can I do for you?” We have a special offer for Christmas-themed cupcakes and muffins. Or do you prefer classic gingerbread cookies?”

“I’m looking for someone,” Bucky cuts her off. “Y/N Y/L/N. I think she’s at her parents’ house.”

“OH! OH! You must be the handsome fiancé she was hiding for so long!” The owner rounds the corner to wrap Bucky in a hug. He stiffens, not used to unwanted affection from strangers. “But… didn’t you come with her?”

“I—I,” Bucky stammers. If he tells the owner the truth, she’ll not tell him where your parents are living. “Work kept me busy last minute.”

“—and now you came here to surprise her,” she concludes, and Bucky doesn’t correct her. What else can he do? “Wait, I’ll write her address down. And, oh, you must take some of the cupcakes and cookies with you. They are on the house.”

All the women in the bakery sigh. They believe the handsome man in his expensive clothes came to surprise you on Christmas.

Well, in a way, he will surprise you.

“Mom, I’ll go and pick up the things you ordered. Do you need anything else?” You call for your mother, already halfway out of the house. “Mom?”

“Can you bring some cupcakes and cookies from Aunt Y/A/N’s bakery? Bread too. We don’t need to bake it this year. She offered to bake mine at the bakery!”

“Sure thing, Mom. Anything else? We don’t want to forget something, especially with the approaching snowstorm.”

“No, I got everything else, Munchkin. We will survive for at least three weeks or more with all the things in the pantry. You can stay for months if you want to.”

“Mom,” you sigh. Since you told her about your boss and that you lost your job, she offered you half of the house. She already talked to people in town. Within not three hours, you got four job offers. “We can talk about it after the holidays.”

“That’s not a no,” she coos. “You know, I’d love to have my Munchkin back at home.”

You smile because your mom means well and loves you unconditionally, but you know moving back home is not an option. After the holidays, you will attend a few job interviews. You already had a look at a few free positions and applied to them.

“I’ll be back soon, Mom. Call me if you need something else.”

“Coming,” your mom coos as someone impatiently rings the doorbell. She carries a plate with cookies toward the door, assuming it’s one of the neighbor’s kids. ��What can I do for you?”

She opens the door, meeting stormy blue eyes. Bucky looks her up and down, humming as she’s the spitting image of you. “Mrs. Y/L/N,” he clears his throat, “I’m looking for your daughter, Y/N. I know it’s a busy time, but I need to talk to her.”

“Wait—” Your mother sizes Bucky up while trying to remember the picture you sent her some months back. The one of you and the guy you dated for a few months before he broke things up with you. “You must be…” She struggles to remember the name you gave her too.

“James,” Bucky offers, and holds out his hand. He chuckles as your mother is still holding a plate with cookies in her hands. “Sorry, can I help you with that?”

“Where are my manners!” She gasps. “It’s freezing, and you are standing on my front porch. Come in and get warm. Y/N is picking up some groceries for me. She’ll be back soon. Do you want coffee, tea, or hot chocolate?”

Bucky reluctantly enters your mother’s house. He looks around before taking off his coat. His hands are ice cold thanks to the lack of hand gloves, and he cannot deny that he doesn’t feel his feet any longer.

“Yeah, the weather caught me cold,” Bucky and your mother chuckle at his bad wordplay. He takes off his shoes to wiggle his toes. “I didn’t expect the snow to be so…persistent.”

“We get lots of snow at this time of the year,” your mother says while preparing a hot beverage for Bucky. “Do you want some cookies too, or a sandwich maybe?”

“That’s too kind,” Bucky says. He doesn’t want to risk getting kicked out of your mother’s house. He’ll be waiting patiently for you to return, get the password, and be on his way.

You hurriedly get inside the house. The snowstorm already arrived, and you barely made it back to the house. “Mom, I’m back,” you call for your mother. “I guess we won’t be able to get in town anytime soon.”

“Munchkin,” your mother calls from the living room. “We have company. Can you come here?”

You frown. The last thing you need after fighting your way through snow masses is neighbors wanting to catch up with you. You love them, but explaining that you lost your job is something you don’t want to do again and again.

“Coming,” you take off your boots, coat, scarf, and hand gloves before walking into the living room. You suck in a breath watching your former boss get comfortable on your mother’s couch, a cup of hot chocolate in his hands.

“Look! He came to see you for Christmas.” Your mother gets up to give you and your “boyfriend” time. She still doesn’t know he’s your boss, or now ex-boss, not the guy breaking up with you weeks ago. “You can catch up while I take care of the groceries you got.”

Speechless, you watch your mother leave the room. “What are you doing here?” You spat at your former boss the moment your mother was out of sight. “How dare you come here to bug my mother!”

“She invited me in,” he dares to say. Bucky shrugs as you look at him, murder in your eyes. “I think she confused me with some other guy. She mentioned a boyfriend or fiancé.”

Huffing, you cross your arms over your chest. “Not even close,” you snap at him. “I was seeing someone, but my mom knows that it didn’t work out. What did you tell her? Did you lie to her?”

“Whoa, calm down,” he slowly gets up. “I’m here because you forgot to reset the password. I cannot access the files.”

“What?” You cock a brow. “I left my current password and the PIN to reset the password along with my keys. I gave them to the security, as suggested by Mr. Rogers the day I left.”

“Mr. Rogers—” Bucky huffs. “That punk! That goddamn motherfucker let me fly down here to get the password and knew you left it?”

“Problem solved,” you grunt and point toward the door. “If you’d leave me the fuck alone now. It’s almost Christmas, and the last thing I need is for my mom to believe you are the guy I dated!”

“Munchkin, will your boyfriend stay for Christmas? Do you want the guestroom to have more privacy?” You love your mother dearly, but right now, you’d love to tell her to shut up. “Y/N?”

“No!” You say. “He will fly back and spend Christmas in New York.”

“Oh, Munchkin, I don’t think he can,” your mother says while walking back inside the living room. She shows you her phone. “See, all airports are closed, and the streets are, well, you know the streets in winter. “I think James is stuck here.” She smiles softly while you start to sweat.

“I think he’d prefer a hotel!” You are quick to reply. “Right, James.” You clear your throat and furrow your brows. “You want to sleep at a hotel.”

“Nonsense,” your mother insists. “We have more than enough space. Let’s get his luggage inside before it gets even colder. I’m sure he’s tired and needs a rest.”

“Mrs. Y/L/N, I appreciate the offer, but I’ll go to a hotel,” Bucky jumps in, wanting nothing more than to get out of your mother’s house.

“All hotels are booked up. I talked to Mrs. Brock yesterday. There are no free rooms left. Your boyfriend can sleep here,” your mother chuckles. “I know you are all grown, Munchkin.” She kisses your cheek before leaving the room.

Awkward silence spreads through the room. You look at your boss, the man ruining Christmas and your career for you within a few seconds. “Why didn’t you tell her?” He asks.

“Why didn’t you tell her?” You throw your hands up. Dropping another bomb at your mom is the last thing you want. Maybe she forgot that you told her about the breakup some weeks ago.

“Uh—you know, I wanted the password and feared she’d kick me out getting to know I’m your boss.”

“Ex-boss,” you point out. Putting your hands on your hips, you huff. “Okay, we will survive one night. You’ll sleep in the guestroom, and tomorrow morning we will find a way to get you out of my hometown.”

“Good,” Bucky mutters.

“Good,” you snap at him before storming out of the room.

How to cure a grump (3)

More tags in reblog.

@cjand10, @nofingjustaninchident, @pettyjayy

[andvys]

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter twelve ⭐︎ When the curtains call the time, will we both go home alive?

Warnings: 18+ minors don't interact! angst, jealousy, misunderstandings, mutual pining, mentions of unrequited feelings, mentions of cheating (not on reader), mentions of past stancy, jealous!Steve, slightly mean!Steve (kinda?), smut smut smut, bathroom sex, car sex, fingering, squirting. I like to picture Jacob as Drew Starkey hehe

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Steve had never handled his jealousy very well, but being jealous over you, brings out a new side in him. He would do anything to keep you, anything.

Word count: 17.4k+

Author's note: I've been waiting for this chapter since forever, jealous men are always my jam, and @hellfire--cult took these ideas to a whole new level, enjoy this filthy chapter. This one is for all my Steve girlies who haven't given up on me after my last story ♡ Roe, I should grant you a thousand wishes at this point, you keep me so hyped for this story. Also this chapter wouldn't have been this good without you, don't even try to fight me

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter

♡

Nancy’s brows are furrowed in concentration, her pink lips pursed as she looks through the many dresses to find the perfect one, her curly hair is pulled up into a bun, held together by a white scrunchie with pink polka dots, she’s wearing one of the outfits she had gotten on your last shopping trip together, this is only your second time, but it’s fun, you like hanging out with her. 

You drove to Indianapolis since Hawkins doesn’t have all too many clothing stores, especially after the ‘fire’ at the mall, you prefer it here anyways, the big city has much more to offer than the small town. 

“What do you think of this one?” Nancy asks as she shows you the yellow sundress. 

You tilt your head, pressing your lips together as you eye it, not quite liking the way too bright color. You walk around the clothing rack to get to the other side, holding the clothing items that you threw over your forearm a little tighter as you take in the different colors of the dress she’s still holding up. 

“Mmm… No, maybe the blue one, Nancy?” You ask, as you point your finger at the baby blue color, when your eyes widen as you catch sight of the purple one, “or, the purple one! That one would look cute, it matches the color of your eyeshadow!” 

She smiles at you, nodding excitedly. She puts the yellow dress on the rack, and looks through the purple ones to find her size. 

“But you should go for the yellow one if you like it more.” 

She shakes her head, looking back at you, “no, I trust your judgment,” she smiles and picks out the dress, “besides, this color is way cuter.” 

You nod, a smile tugging at your lips, “yeah, it’ll look amazing on you.” 

Her dimples show and her eyes light up a little. 

Nancy has been nothing but kind and sweet to you, and you can’t help but feel guilt and regret growing inside of you for the way you once felt about her. 

You weren’t only jealous of her because she had Steve, you also hated her for having him, and you’d spent your shared classes with her, staring at her and comparing yourself to the girl he loved so dearly – the girl he still loves. You were never rude to her or mean, you never glared at her or threw comments at her the way other girls did, after Steve had humiliated her in front of the whole town, despite your feelings for him, you did feel disappointed for what he had done, even when you didn’t even like her, at that time. 

“You should try this one on!” Nancy pulls you out of your thoughts, a grin on her face as she holds up a black dress – a daring black dress. It’s short and flowy, the straps are thin, it’s  low cut with a dainty bow on the front, the back very exposed. “You could wear this one to Vickie’s party.”

A smile tugs at your lips, you step forward and slowly reach your hands out to take it from her. 

“You will look hot in it,” Nancy wiggles her eyebrows at you, nudging her shoulder against yours as she brushes past you to look for more dresses, “I’m sure I won’t be the only one who thinks that,” she says in a sing-song voice. 

Nancy had been very persistent in trying to get you to go on dates. The last time you went out together, the Barista at your local coffee shop had put his number on your takeaway cup after giving you the order for free. She tried to convince you to give him a call, gushing over how sweet he was to you and how he looked at you, and yeah, he was sweet, he was very good looking too, and maybe you would’ve given him a call if things were still the same they were months before this. Yeah, you would’ve definitely given him a call, but only to forget about the certain someone who woke up in your bed this morning. Whose bed you will go to sleep in tonight. 

As you stare at the dress, all that you can think about is Steve, and how he will react to seeing you in this. 

Will he think that you’re pretty? 

Will you look irresistible to him?

Will he want to tear it off of you? 

After all, he does like your dresses, your sundresses especially, you see the way his eyes darken whenever you step into his house with a new one on your body, like he is ready to rip it to shreds and devour you for the next few hours or so, and he usually does, sometimes he doesn’t even take it off, and only pushes it aside, bunching it around your waist.

This sundress is by far more revealing than any of the other ones you have worn before. Excitement bubbles in your stomach as you think of his reaction to it. 

You are definitely getting it. 

After taking forever to pick out what clothes to keep in the dressing room, you both make your way out of the store with full bags, stuffed with new summer clothes. You stroll around town for a while, looking for new jewelry and shoes to go with the dresses you both bought. 

You never realized just how much you missed having a girl friend to do these things with, until you sit down at a cute café to eat some late lunch. It’s something you always used to do with your childhood best friend, that you always try not to think of, too painful are the memories of Chrissy and how you couldn’t be there for her, how you couldn’t save her. You always wondered if things would have gone differently had you both not drifted apart the way you did when you both went separate ways.

But it’s no use to overthink about it, you won’t ever find out. 

“Funny how we’re shopping for clothes, when a few weeks back we were fighting for our lives against something the whole world doesn’t even know about,” Nancy says as she looks over the menu. 

“Yeah,” you nod with wide eyes, glancing up from your own menu to look at her, you realize that you never asked how she got involved in all of it, in the first place. 

You clear your throat, “I never asked… how did you get involved?” 

She raises her brows at your question, taking a deep breath before she puts down the menu. 

“I–It was when Barb went missing, right after Will… What the police said about her wasn’t right, I knew my Barb, so I looked into it all, and I dragged Jonathan in with me because he was looking for his brother, only to find out that my brother and all of his friends were in it too…” She rolls her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips. 

You laugh a little, shaking your head. 

A shiver runs down your spine as you think of how long it had all been going on in the shadows, how long you had been unaware of the Upside Down and the existence of monsters, how children were involved in something they shouldn’t have been. 

“And then, poor Steve… He showed up at Jonathan’s place when we tried to lure in the Demogorgon, he almost ran off… but he came right back to fight him with us.” 

You know all about it, Steve told you how he fought the Demogorgon with Nancy and Jonathan, how he had been dragged into it all by accident, how he helped Dustin find Dart, how he protected the kids and climbed into the tunnel after getting beaten by Billy. 

You know most of what happened, not only from Steve, but also from Robin, but you feel intrigued, you want to know more… from her.

Something flashes in her eyes, a look of guilt, a look of regret. 

You know exactly what she’s thinking about, and you know that you shouldn’t bring this up, but your curiosity gets the best of you. 

“I-I was at Tina’s Halloween party.” 

Nancy winces at that, she doesn’t seem uncomfortable by your words, just… regretful of the memories that night brings her. 

You remember the night just as well as she does. Steve had bumped into you after he rushed out of the bathroom you didn’t even know he was in with Nancy, he glared at you and nudged your shoulder harshly, he rudely told you to move out of his way and murmured some incoherent curse word at you. 

You remember how deflected you felt, all night you had avoided him only to bump into him in his worst moment. 

Everyone knows what happened that night, not in full detail, but it doesn’t take a genius to find out what happened between King Steve and his girlfriend after he had stormed out of the house without her, and she left with Jonathan instead. 

Word traveled around, rumors circulated, but you didn’t listen to them, it wasn’t any of your business, and it wasn’t hard to figure out what had happened anyways. Just as Steve and Nancy’s relationship ended, she showed up to school, holding hands with Jonathan. Clearly, something happened between them long before her relationship with Steve had ended. 

Steve hated you, but your heart broke for him still. 

It was so very obvious how much he loved her, and you can imagine how much it hurt when she cheated on him, and left him and his heart in shambles. 

“I-I will never forgive myself for it. No matter if– he did forgive me. I was horrible to him, no amount of apologies can take away the guilt I will forever feel.”

“W-What happened?” You ask nervously, not wanting to overstep but still feeling the curiosity tugging harshly in your chest. 

She sighs, looking around the bustling street before her eyes move back to yours. 

“I-I always blamed him for what happened to Barb, I should’ve gone home with her that night, but I didn’t, even though I promised I would. I went with him, a-and the Demogorgon got her,” she explains, shaking her head a little as she closes her eyes, “it wasn’t Steve’s fault, not at all, but I-I blamed him and every time I looked at him, I just thought about her and what happened to her and how things would’ve gone differently if I didn’t leave her that night, if I didn’t went with Steve.” 

You dig your nails into your palms, swallowing harshly as you watch her. 

“He was good to me, he was there for me, b-but I couldn’t stand him sometimes, and how he tried to act like everything was normal, when it wasn’t.” 

The feeling of irritation sparks inside of your chest, crawling into your bloodstream. 

“And then, the Halloween party… I just, I was still grieving and I was angry, I let it all out on him, I should’ve handled things differently, I shouldn’t have been so harsh but… I-I called him bullshit,” she confesses to you, scrunching up her nose as she cringes at her own self, “and then I confessed my true feelings for him and our relationship.” 

You swallow the lump in your throat, the anger that you are holding back after those leave her mouth. Bullshit. 

How could she do that to him? 

How could she hurt him the way that she did? 

How could she call him that?  

You can tell that it takes a weight off her shoulders, that it’s something she hasn’t talked about since it happened, not to Robin, not even to Jonathan, because after these words leave her mouth, she takes a deep breath, and her body relaxes as she leans back in her seat. 

Her face is edged with shame, but also with relief to finally be able to let it out. 

And you try, you really try to hide your own feelings, the anger, the hurt that you feel for the man that you hold so dearly in your heart. 

You feel thankful for the waiter who interrupts your thoughts, he places the drinks that you ordered on the table, and reaches for his notepad, taking Nancy’s food order first. 

You take a sip of your iced tea and you watch her for a moment, reminding yourself of how long ago it was, how much she changed, how much he changed, how it’s none of your business, how you shouldn’t feel angry at her, even when she’s the one who hurt him, when she’s the one he still wants, despite what she did. 

He would take her back in a heartbeat if she came back to him, and the thought breaks your heart. 

But you can’t help but keep dancing around the topic, so after the waiter takes your order and leaves, you ask her something you’ve been wondering about for weeks now. 

“Do you… regret it? Do you sometimes wish that things between you went differently?” 

She leans her elbows on the table, placing the straw between her lips, she takes a sip of her drink before she leans back again. 

“The only thing I regret is how I led him on, I wish I could go back, and lay it all out on him in a different way… Explain to him why… I didn’t feel that for him, give him a reason instead of making him think that he’s damaged.” 

She cared about him, you can see it in her eyes, you can hear it in her voice. She cared, even if only poorly. 

“I see,” you nod, trying not to sigh. “And… well– when the whole thing with Vecna…” You pause as you feel the weight on your chest crushing you with nervousness. 

She tilts her head at you, “what?” 

Heat rushes to your cheeks, you lick your lips as you look around, watching the people in the busy street across the café for a moment, before you return your gaze to her. 

“Well… It was noticeable you know… and then… you two weren’t exactly quiet in the RV,” you mumble, trying not to sound bitter as the day catches up to you, what Steve had said to Nancy, how he looked at her, how she looked at him – and the rude things he said about you before the white picket fence conversation came up. 

Her eyes widen a little, cheeks blushing a deep red as she looks down sheepishly. 

You don’t know what you had expected, but you certainly didn’t wait for her to blush, it makes your stomach clench uncomfortably. 

“I–I was just hurt because of Jonathan. Feelings are cunning, evil… I was angry, and I think my heart and mind looked for where I could find comfort.” 

Oh, how ugly the feeling in your chest now is, how bitter the taste on your tongue is, how the sweetness of your drink does nothing to make it better, because you know, you know that you wouldn’t be sitting here now if Jonathan didn’t come back, you wouldn’t wake up in Steve’s bed or fall asleep in his arms. 

Because she would be the one.

You knit your brows together as you stare at her, “but Steve–”

“I know but… I think it was just a heat of the moment kind of thing.”

You physically have to restrain yourself from clenching your jaw or rolling your eyes. So, you look away for a moment, staring into a blank space as you try to calm your breathing. 

Heat of the moment. 

You want to scoff and laugh at her words, because telling your ex-girlfriend that you want to have six kids with her is totally, a heat of the moment kind of thing, right. 

You’re very well aware of the jealousy that is boiling inside of you, worsening every passing second, and yet, you can’t help but want to fuel the fire even more, and find out what she would’ve done if she needed more comfort. 

So when you look at her back, you ask, “so… if you were still hurt and Jonathan didn’t come back…?”

You see the way she freezes, the way she hesitates, the way she takes way too long to answer your question. 

“I-I don’t think that I would’ve been with Steve again… Even if my urges and desires told me to… That’s the only thing they were… desires or… attractions. I wouldn’t want to hurt him again and give him the idea that there’d be a chance for a future,” she sighs, shaking her head, “I’m not the one. I’m not the woman for the future of his.” 

You don’t know whether to feel sad for Steve or yourself. 

She is that woman. 

She is the one, the only one that he wants in that way, so why is she denying it? 

The question lingers in your mind and you can’t help but wonder, what would happen if she stopped denying it? If her feelings were more than just desire after all? If she came back to him? 

There is no doubt about what he would do. 

You’d be nothing but a faint memory the moment she’d come back. 

You’d no longer occupy her space in his bed. 

You’d no longer be the one he’d kiss, touch, feel. 

And you, you would step aside without a moment of hesitation, because despite your feelings for him, you would want him to be happy, and you know that he would never get that with you. 

“Besides, I don’t want to be. Steve was my first boyfriend, puppy love,” she chuckles. “It’s different with Jonathan, I want him in my future, a-and I’d honestly take any future with him,” she says, as a soft smile creeps on her face, “I didn’t love Steve but, I love him,” she says truthfully and honestly. 

She isn’t someone you have to worry about. 

She isn’t someone who will take your temporary space, at least not now, not anymore. 

But you still can’t find peace within you after this conversation, you can’t push aside the thoughts of him, of how much he still wants her, of how much he still loves her, of how much he wishes to be with her again, and it upsets you, even when it shouldn’t. 

So, when you come home, you throw your bags on the stairs and make your way into the kitchen, you pick up the telephone and you call him, coming up with some weak excuse as to why you can’t see him tonight. 

You want to see him, but you wouldn’t be able to control your feelings, you wouldn’t be able to hide the pain in your eyes. If Nancy wasn’t with Jonathan, she would be with Steve, and he would choose her, then and now. 

You heard the sigh on the other end, the disappointed ‘okay… bye, Blondie.’ before you hung up the phone abruptly. 

You want him, you want to be with him, you want to feel his touch, his hands on your skin, his lips on yours, and yet, you don’t at the same time, because right now, it would just hurt too much. 

You need to calm your anxious thoughts, or you will give yourself away completely. 

-

Two days. 

It’s been two whole days since Steve had last seen you, and both his mind and his body were going crazy over the lack of you. 

When you had called him on Wednesday evening, he was already waiting for you, giddy and excited for another night with you, but when you announced that you wouldn’t come, he felt deflected, a little crushed even, but he understood, you sounded tired and like you needed your rest, so he didn’t even try to convince you to let him come see you. 

But the next day, there was no trace of you either, you didn’t call, you didn’t visit him at work, you didn’t come over, and when he tried to call you, you didn’t pick up the phone, you also weren’t home, your car wasn’t in your driveway, you were gone. And it made him feel… weird. 

Because where were you? 

You had never done anything like this before, always eager and ready for him, but never this. 

He craved you so terribly, he wanted to see you, he wanted to hear your voice, to feel your touch, to feel your body beneath his. 

He longed for you, and two days away from you, only showed him just how much of a hold you have over him. 

The past two days went by so slowly, it was almost agonizing – just like the terrible music that blasts through Vickie’s house as more and more strangers make their way into her home, filling the empty spaces. 

With his back against the wall, Steve stands there with his arms crossed over his chest, a bored expression on his face as he nods along to Eddie’s rambling about some band he had never even heard the name of, occasionally putting on his meanest face to glare at the people who give Eddie dirty looks. He can’t stand them. 

He takes a sip of his coke, looking around the crowded room in search of you. 

He knows you’re here, but he has yet to see you. 

You came with Eddie, but while the latter instantly came to find him, you apparently left to find Robin, who he hasn’t seen in a while either. 

He has been here for at least two hours now, and he is beginning to grow restless, wanting to just push himself away from the wall and go find you. 

“--And I can’t wait to see them live, man! No more headbanging in my room,” Eddie laughs as he sips on his beer. “Judas Priest is sick! You gotta come with us, I’m sure Gareth won’t mind.” 

“Mmm.” Steve nods, glancing at Eddie with a plastered smile on his face, he feels a bit bad for not listening to him, but Eddie doesn’t seem to mind, he continues talking.

Steve cranes his neck, looking into the kitchen, then into the hallway, and out into the backyard, trying to catch a glimpse of you, but all he sees are people he doesn’t care about. 

The music is starting to give him a headache, and the smell of liquor and weed is beginning to make him feel hazy. He's not drinking, he’s got other plans that hopefully won’t be canceled tonight but the more time passes, and there is still no trace of you, his hope is beginning to dwindle, because a part of him starts to believe that you are doing this on purpose, not showing yourself to him. 

Are you avoiding him? 

The thought makes his chest ache weirdly, a feeling that he can’t even describe floods through his veins. 

He doesn’t want you to avoid him, he doesn’t want you to stay away from him, he doesn’t want you to get bored of him. 

“I got Robin to listen to my mixtape, you’re next, I’m telling you, you’re gonna be a metalhead in no time,” Eddie chuckles, bumping his shoulder into his, he pulls Steve out of his thoughts. 

“Huh?” Steve furrows his brows at him before a forced laugh falls from his lips, “y-yeah, sure.”

Eddie snorts, knowing that he wasn’t listening to a single word he just said and still agreed. A smirk tugs at his lips, he tilts his head, “so, you’re gonna listen to it?” 

Steve nods, pursing his lips as he scratches the back of his neck. 

“Promise?” Eddie asks, almost cackling.

“Yeah, promise,” Steve shrugs. 

Eddie shakes his head, bringing his beer up to his lips, “you’re gonna regret that,” he murmurs against the glass before he takes a sip. 

Steve hates the music Eddie listens to, he’s hated every song he has shown him so far, but Eddie will take that promise in satisfaction, knowing that Steve never breaks any of his promises. 

Eddie takes a look around the room, recognizing a few people from school, some of whom have already graduated the year before. The guy by the snack table is the one who catches his attention the most, he squints his eyes as he takes a better look at him – tall, dark blond, lean, the gold ring that he always wore on his middle finger, still in place. Jacob Leeney. 

He hasn’t seen him since last year when Jacob was back from college for the weekend, the same weekend you made this guy lucky. 

He wants to make a joke to Steve about it, knowing that he hates the football captain’s guts, when from the corner of his eye, he notices how Steve stands up straighter. 

Every hope that began to dwindle, comes back in a rush when Steve sees you for the first time in two days. 

You walk into the room with a drink in your hand, a smile on your lips that grows brighter when your eyes lock with his. 

His own eyes light up at the sight of you, something in his chest swells with a feeling he grew unfamiliar to. His lips curl into a smile as he stares at your face for the longest time, before he lets his eyes roam your body, the exposed skin that isn’t covered by the pretty dress that you’re wearing, begging for his attention, begging to be marked up by his lips and to be touched by his hands.  

If only he could look into his own reflection to see just how awestruck he looks at the sight of you, how you lit up the whole room for him with your presence. If only he was focused on the beating of his heart or the fluttering in his stomach, the butterflies he thought were long gone, rising back up and filling him with life. 

Your skin is glowing beneath the dim fairy lights, your glossy lips that he craves to feel on his own, looking even more kissable than usual, and he already begins to count down the second until he can actually feel them. 

You start making your way over to him, the platform heels that you’re wearing making you look taller than you are. 

Steve licks his lips, having to fight the urge to just meet you halfway, throw you over his shoulder and get the hell out of here so he can have you all to himself. 

Your eyes are locked with his, a blush creeps up on your face and you grow flustered beneath his stare, a sheepish smile tugging at your lips as you raise your hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear – good, nothing changed in those two days. 

His excitement grows, the closer you get, he has nearly all forgotten about his friend next to him, about the other people in this room, but the reminder that it’s not just you and him in this room, catches up quickly, when the smile falls from your lips and your eyebrows furrow as a hand on your upper arm stops you, not enough to startle you, but enough to make you turn around in and look away from him. 

Steve’s own smile falls, and he straightens his back even more. 

He no longer sees your face, your expression or your reaction, but he sees him, Jacob Leeney. And the sight of him alone, is enough to turn the fire that you lit up inside of him, into raging flames. – And not because of the rivalry that was once between them, but because of what he had found out about you and the football captain not too long ago. 

Steve can’t hear what he’s saying to you, but the smile, the smirk on Jacob’s face makes his blood boil. The look in his eyes as he stares you down, making him clench his jaw. 

He pulls you into a hug, hand coming to rest between your shoulder blades, but not quite staying there, he moves it lower and lower until it rests dangerously low on your back as he hugs you for longer than necessary. 

“Damn,” Eddie mumbles from beside him, “Leeney’s about to get another best fuck of his life,” he chuckles, repeating the words that the jock had said to him months back. 

And it does little to calm Steve down. 

“I mean, unless they’ve seen each other this week before, I heard that he was back in town… a few days ago,” Eddie shrugs, watching him closely. 

He watches the way you take a step back, putting distance between you and Jacob after you pull away from the hug, but his hand lingers, not on your back anymore, but now on your elbow as he taps his fingers against your skin, talking to you with a look on his face that gives away his intentions. The sparkling in his eyes matches the one of his own, he wants you, he wants you badly. The interaction between you seems so… trusted, intimate. 

And then, Steve registers what Eddie had said to him, just now. 

A few days ago. 

Steve freezes. 

The cold shudder that runs through him, weakening the flames that just ignited. 

Is that why you canceled your plans with him?  

Is he the reason why you haven’t called? 

Did you stand him up for Jacob?

Were you with him? 

Did you let him kiss you? 

Did you let him touch you?

Did you forget all about him? 

He can’t decipher his own emotions at this very moment, too many are running through him, anger, frustrations… and a very ugly emotion that he won’t admit to feeling. 

He takes a deep breath, unable to hide the frown on his face as he watches you. 

Steve knew it, he knew that his own rule would come to haunt him, and he suddenly feels a deep regret for suggesting the inclusivity that allows you to see other people, he doesn’t want you to do that, he doesn’t want you to see other people, he wants to be the only one for you. 

He is watching you, so closely, so intensely, glaring at the touchy man in front of you, like he’s ready to light him up with his own eyes for putting his hands on places only he should be allowed to touch. 

Eddie slaps his shoulder, “I’ll be right back,” he announces before he scurries away from Steve who refuses to tear his eyes off of you.

He continues to watch you like a hawk, eyes not straying away from you and the man before you, and despite the intensity in his gaze, he is blind to your reactions, to the subtle, tiny steps you take to put distance between you and Jacob. All that Steve can see is the burning red that flashes in his eyes every time he touches you.

He sees the way your shoulders shake from laughter, the way you brush your hair back as you tilt your head up to look at him. 

And the more time passes as you stand across the room, spending time with someone who isn’t him, he begins to grow impatient, restless. 

You should be here, with him, by his side. 

And he wants to show you that the only one you need is him. So, without a second of hesitation, he slams his drink on the table, and he lets his feet carry him over to you, no longer wanting to stand there and watch how someone else might steal you away from him, he won’t let it happen. 

He let it happen with Nancy, he probably would’ve let it happen again if he was still with her, if this was her with Jonathan in front of him, he would’ve looked the other way, despite the aching in his chest.  

But you aren’t Nancy, and his feelings, his reactions, his action that he’s about to take, didn’t fully sink in yet. 

Once he is in earshot, Steve hears Jacob’s annoying, flirty voice. 

“You’re the prettiest girl at this party.” 

Your giggle follows, and it makes Steve’s skin crawl – if he wasn’t so driven by jealousy, and blinded by anger, he would’ve heard how fake it sounded.

“Oh, I don’t think so.” 

Jacob chuckles, opening his mouth to speak, to throw some lame pick up line at you, probably. 

But Steve doesn’t let him. Stepping up beside you, he places his hand on your back first, before he slides it down to your waist, gripping it tightly. The feeling of your body beneath his palm, your warmth and the way you melt into his touch after you turn and tilt your head to look at him, makes his stomach flutter pleasantly. 

You step closer to him, relaxing further when he squeezes you with his large hand, though your eyes are wide and your lips are parted as you stare at him. 

Right now, he can’t even find it in himself to care that your friends could see the intimacy between you and him, all he cares about is you and dragging you away so he can finally have you all to himself. 

“Can I talk to you?” He asks, calmly. 

Your wide eyes spark with curiosity as they look into his own, your glossy lips parting further for him as you come up with words, only to be cut off by Jacob.

“Oh hello, Harrington, long time no see!” The jock grins.

Steve clenches his jaw, but still turns to face him, biting back the distaste on his tongue, he nods at him, “yeah, yeah man, I’ll take her for a minute, okay?” He mumbles with squinted eyes and a fake smile on his lips as he points to you. 

Before the blond can even respond, Steve’s hand leaves your waist, and moves over to your wrist. He grabs your much smaller hand and holds it tightly, giving it a squeeze as he pulls you away and begins to walk, basically dragging you out of the room, and you don’t protest, you follow him, without a single word, slamming your drink on the counter on the way out.

You both walk into the crowded hallway, and he pulls you closer to him when you pass by a group of guys who are talking rather loudly. He pushes you towards the stairs, bringing your hand up a little as he gets behind you.

He doesn’t even bother to look out for your friends, they aren’t on his mind right now and he finds himself not caring about who could see you together. He also doesn’t care about one of his many rules that he is about to break when he pushes you into an empty bathroom. 

You switch the light on and let go of his hand when you walk in further. 

Steve turns around to close and lock the door, his fingers linger on the handle as he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. 

“What’s wrong, did something happen?” You ask. 

He opens his eyes again and turns around to face you, he raises his hand up, running it through his styled hair, he licks his lips as he lets his eyes roam your body for a second, taking a better look at the dress he hasn’t seen on you before, it must be new. 

The light that shines on you from the ceiling is golden, making your soft skin glow, making it look even more delicate, more desirable. Your chest rises up and down heavily, a worried expression etched in your beautiful features as you stare at him with furrowed brows. Your pouty lips parted. 

Can he blame Jacob for trying to go after you? Not really. 

“Nope, nothing happened,” he mumbles as he makes his way over to you. 

You shake your head a little, frowning, “then why–”

He practically lurches forward, cupping your cheeks, he leans down and presses his lips against yours, the way he wanted to, all night. 

You squeal in surprise, a noise that only fuels his lust even more, prompting him to deepen the kiss roughly. He can taste the sweetness of rum and pepsi on your lips, the strawberry from your gloss, he can taste you, he can smell the intoxicating scent of your perfume, he can feel your arms around his shoulders now as you start moving your lips against his, picking up the pace to match the speed of his own. 

He moans when your fingers get lost in his hair and your nails graze his scalp as you try to pull him closer against you. 

He licks your bottom lip, parting it with his tongue so he can slip it into your mouth. You let him. His palm slides down to your jaw, he holds it there for a moment as his other hand moves down to your hip, gripping it tightly as he presses you against the counter behind you, fingers now playing with the flimsy material of your sundress. 

A needy moan blesses his ears, the delicious sound rushing to his cock, making it stir in his pants that are now getting way too tight around his groin. 

You place your hand on the back of his neck as you place your other on his chest, pressing yourself further against him as you kiss him with whimpers and a neediness that he thought only he was feeling. 

God, he missed you.

But, did you miss him? 

Did your lips touch someone else’s when you weren’t with him, where you were supposed to be? 

The flames that are still raging inside of him, sparking a new kind of anger in him at the thought of it, it prompts him to do something that he has never done before – he bites your bottom lip, making you wince and moan at the pain. 

He pinches your chin between his fingers, pulling away from the kiss to look at you. 

With furrowed brows, you open your eyes to look at him, leaning back in to steal a kiss, but he keeps you in place, ignoring the whine that falls from your lips.

“Jacob Leeney, huh?” He mutters, instantly clenching his jaw after saying that name out loud. “Why did you talk to him, hm?” 

Steve moves his hand under your dress. 

“W-What?” You ask, shakily. “He was just talking to me about college.”

Right. That is the reason why he looked at you like he was ready to tear your dress off and devour you, right then and there. 

“Right,” he mumbles, gritting his teeth in anger. 

You stare at him with a frown on your face, tilting your head a little as you reach your hand up to wrap it around his wrist. And then, realization flashes in your eyes and your lips twitch a little. 

“You plan on fucking him tonight, Blondie?” He sneers, unable to hide the bitterness in his voice. 

You raise your eyebrows, pressing your lips together, he watches the way your throat bobs as you swallow. 

The silence between you is nearly deafening, he can feel your breath on his thumb as he still holds your chin, he waits for you to answer his question.

Your eyes crinkle, and your lips curl into a smile before you suddenly burst into giggles, making his irritation feel worse than before. 

Steve’s muscles tense up and he bites the insides of his cheeks, pressing his knee in between your thighs, he holds you tighter. 

“Why are you laughing, huh?” He asks, as he leans closer to you, cupping your jaw again, he tilts your head to the side, making your giggles die down the moment he latches his lips onto your neck. 

You suck in a sharp breath. 

“Mmm, nothing,” you murmur, “w-what if I am? What if I do plan on fucking him?” 

Steve has to hold back to growl, threatening to escape as he presses another rough kiss to your neck, his fingers now digging deeper into your hip. 

“Well, I have a little priority here, don’t you think?” He murmurs against your skin. 

“Wasn’t it you… the one who said no exclusivity, Steve?” 

His breath stopped for a moment, regret gnawing up in his throat like vile. He wants to back out of that rule… but you are not his, so he waters it down. 

“New rule then, Blondie,” he mumbles, not stopping with the kisses on your neck, “we leave with each other when we are at the same place. So, meaning today it’s me.” 

You furrow your eyebrows at his words, questions already lingering in your mind. 

You would always choose Steve. 

There is no one else you would go home with. 

And you can’t help but want him to know, but you don’t get to tell him because just as you open your mouth, Steve starts kissing your neck differently, intensely, roughly. He sucks on your neck, marking you up and blessing your delicate skin with hickeys as though he wants to show everyone that you’re his, that you belong to him. 

And you do, you do belong to him, but he doesn’t know it. 

He doesn’t know that your heart is his, that your mind and body is in his possession. 

He doesn’t know how crazy you go over his touches, how your heart flutters at every slightest touch of his, how weak and vulnerable you feel when he holds you, how no one else could ever come close to make you feel the things that he can make you feel. 

“How many drinks did you have, Blondie?” 

“J-Just half of the drink I left downstairs,” you say, tilting your head to the side to give him more access to your neck. 

“Just that?” He asks, “you’re not drunk, are you?” 

You shake your head quickly, “no, not at all.” 

“Good,” he nods. 

Your eyes flutter shut when you feel his fingers on your ruined panties, he pushes them aside and slips his long fingers through your folds, dipping them inside of you before he pulls them back out to tease your clit, digits now coated with your slick. 

You jerk a little, wrapping your arm around him so you can hold onto him, a needy moan escapes your mouth. 

You could have had this on Wednesday night, you could have had this last night, but you were too busy worrying about something that filled your heart with pain. 

“S-Steve!” 

He gets lost in his feelings, lost in the rage, in the possessiveness and the urge to show you that he should be the only one for you. His teeth graze your neck, his lips suck harshly on your skin as he spreads you open with two fingers. 

You mewl when he starts pumping them inside of you, in and out, deeply and slowly at first. 

“Who are you so wet for, huh?” He asks, pulling away just enough so he can look at the marks he left, appreciating the sight in front of him for a second, before he pulls your face towards him, gripping your chin tighter than before, his thumb now lingering on your bottom lip. “Tell me, Blondie” 

You open your eyes, revealing to him just how dark they are, how much lust lingers in them. 

“You, Stevie! Just you!” You whine needily before you wrap your lips around his thumb, catching him off guard, once again. You swirl your tongue around it, looking into his hazel eyes as you start sucking, you watch the way they widen and darken, the tension in his jaw now leaving as he is only focused on this, on you. 

“Fuck,” he murmurs under his breath, picking up the pace of his fingers, he drags them out of you and slams them back in, nearly moaning himself when he listens to the squelching noises as he finger-fucks you, “just me?” 

Your jaw drops and you throw your head back, letting go of him to hold onto the edges of the counter, he has got you pressed against at. You nod quickly, “yes, yes! Just you, only you!” You ramble as you squeeze your eyes shut again, enjoying the feeling of his fingers inside of you. 

“Good.” 

Steve can feel how you clench around him, how you’re already so close even though he didn’t even get started yet. He leans in to peck your lips as he curls his fingers inside of you, and he presses his thumb against your clit, rubbing it slowly. 

He feels himself growing harder – the feeling of your tight, wet walls around his fingers being too much, along with the needy moans that keep falling from your pretty lips. 

He stares at you, watching the way your nipples poke through the thin material of your dress – of course, you’re not wearing a bra. You bite your lip, your brows are knit together, and your head falls to the side as you let yourself get lost in the feeling he provides you with. 

Not Jacob, definitely not Jacob. 

The jock could never make you feel this, he is so sure of it, and yet, Steve can’t shake the thoughts of you and him together. 

Would you be this wet for him too? 

Would you moan so prettily for him? 

Would you be so needy for him? 

The anger just won’t leave him, it refuses to, it has him in its tightest grip, urging him to prove something to you. 

His chest heaves up and down heavily, his darkened eyes are nearly black now. 

You’re close, he can feel that you are with the way you’re clenching around him, but he doesn’t let you cum like this tonight, so he pulls his fingers out of you. 

Your eyes shoot open and your lips part as you’re about to protest, pouting at him. He grabs your hips with both of his hands, turning you around abruptly, he bends you over the counter and presses himself against you, and he chuckles darkly when you gasp at his action. 

Steve reaches for the hem of your dress and he flips it over, exposing your ass to him and the lacy thong you’re wearing, he groans at the sight of it, unable to hold back, he rears his hand back before he smacks his large palm against your skin, slapping your ass harshly. 

Steve has never, never treated a girl roughly before, not any of his hookups, not Nancy, but then again, he never had this much fun with any of them. Letting go of his inhibitions, taking what he wants for once, and the fact that you let him, and even love it, makes him go feral.

But as the realization sinks in of what he had done, his eyes widen as fear rushes through him, worried that he had gone too far, but you ease his mind with the filthy whimper that sounds through the room as you press your ass against his dick, rubbing it against him as though you’re asking for more. 

He can’t help but chuckle, the shock and the fear vanishing just as quick as it came. 

“Oh, you like that, Blondie?” He asks as he presses his palm against your ass, this time not slapping it, but grabbing it roughly, making you whine again. “Of course you fucking do,” he murmurs as he lets go, only to smack you once more, making you gasp his name in pleasure. 

“Please!” 

He looks at your reflection in the mirror, needy eyes meeting his. 

“Please what?” He asks as he unbuckles his belt and pops the button of his jeans, he reaches for the condom in his back pocket – mentally thanking his needy self for placing one there before he left his house, in hopes that he would get this. 

“Please, fuck me!” 

He pushes his jeans and boxers down, just enough to free himself, not wasting any more time, he rips apart the foil and throws the empty packet on the ground, making quick work of rolling the condom over his length. With his chin against his chest, he looks down, stroking his dick for good measure, his spit curl falls in front of his eyes, but he doesn’t bother to push it out of the way, he looks up through hooded eyes, glancing at you through the mirror, he almost wants to chuckle at the desperation in your eyes, but it gets stuck in his throat when you push your ass back against his dick, whining. 

His stomach flutters seeing you so desperate for no one but him. 

He grabs your hip with his left hand, pressing himself against you, he teases both you and himself by slipping his shaft through your wet folds, he watches the way you look at him, begging for more with your eyes as you push yourself up a little. 

He presses his palm against your lower back, pushing you down so your chest is flush against the marble counter, he lines up with your entrance and pushes inside of you slowly. Waves of pleasure rush through him in an instant. You scrunch your face up, lips parting as a sigh escapes you.  

You throw your hand back, reaching for his forearm, you grab it tightly as you shut your eyes and drop your head a little, your hair falls in front of your face, hiding all your pretty features.

Steve looks down, watching his cock disappear into your weeping pussy. 

“You take me so well, holy shit,” he murmurs under his breath. And it was the truth, you take him like no other, making you the most addictive.

He sinks into you, deeper and deeper, stretching you out and splitting you open, the tension inside of him grows and his heartbeat increases. He pulls out again, watching the way the condom around him glistens with your slick – how he wishes that he could feel you without it. He slams back in, making you gasp and arch your back in pleasure. He starts thrusting, in and out, deeply and slowly at first, but with an intensity that makes you open your eyes again.

“Steve!” 

“That’s right,” He grunts, reaching his hand forward, he grabs your hair and tilts your head back up, forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror as he moves his hips faster, quickening his pace until he’s pounding you. “Look at who’s fucking you right now, Blondie.” 

The loudest moan falls from your lips, and you instantly bring your hand up to cup your mouth, panic flashing in your lust filled eyes. Despite the loud music, you are scared that someone might hear you, and it only prompts him to fuck you harder and rougher against the counter, holding you tighter as heat spreads in his chest – who do you want to hide from? Your friends, or Jacob? 

But while Steve worries about something that isn’t even on your mind, you are so far gone, so lost in the pleasure that you feel because of him, your insides so sensitive already, yet aching for more. You focus on the way he thrusts in and out of you, how heavenly it feels to feel him inside of you, to feel him in your stomach. 

You are so drunk on him that there is not a single thought in your brain, only him. 

No one has ever done this to you, no one has ever made you feel so weak, so submissive, so lost in the heat of the moment, no one has ever taken such control – you wouldn’t have let them, only he can have this. 

Your eyes turn glassy, rolling back as you throw your head back, your weak hand falling from your face again. 

“Yeah, as if that asshole could fuck you like this,” he grunts, letting go of your hair and moving his hand forward to cup your cheeks, “say it. Say no one can fuck you like this, Blondie, because I know it’s true.”

Your walls clench and flutter around him, a cry leaving you as he pulls your ass up a little, slamming in and out of you, hitting the spot that makes tears fall from your eyes, making him even more aroused than before. 

“Only you, Steve!” You sob as a tear spills down your cheek and onto his thumb. 

Your knees buckle and your body begins to tremble, sobs and moans turn into needy whines and whimpers, your flustered face decorated with pretty tears making his muscles tense in his stomach. 

You try to keep quiet as you press your lips together, trying to breathe calmly through your nose despite the pounding in your chest, when he suddenly changes the pace again, pounding you so hard that he knocks you forward, hitting so deep inside of your squelching pussy, that you can’t help but cry out loudly as stars blur your vision. 

“Stevie, Stevie, Stevie!” 

Steve nearly busts, eyes widening at the way you chant his name so desperately. His hips stutter a little and he has to suck in a sharp breath, eyes shutting for a moment. He twitches inside of you, and it doesn’t help that you keep clenching. 

The sound of the music, of laughter and voices outside are so far away, the only thing you both hear are your moans and how wet you are as his skin slaps against yours. 

He slows down a little, enough to make you whine again, to make you move back against him, trying to fuck yourself on his cock. 

“F-Fuck,” Steve moans, he opens his eyes again, reaching forward, he grabs your shoulder and pulls you up and against his chest before he lets his hand travel down your stomach, he pushes your dress out of the way, and his fingers find their way to your clit. 

A high pitched moan echoes through the room, your body shakes harder and you grab his forearm tightly as he rubs circles on your sensitive nub. 

He presses his lips to your neck, moaning himself as the tension in his stomach grows bigger and bigger. He kisses your delicate skin, his mouth brushing the dark marks he left. 

You cling to him, nails grazing his skin, you press the side of your face against his, staining his cheek with your tears.

“I know, baby, I know.” 

If only he knew just how such a simple yet special word affects your heart, making it beat faster and harder in your chest, setting all your insides on fire and igniting something in you that throws you into a pit of love and glee. 

Steve had never called you this before, and you could only dream of such sweet nicknames, until now. 

Your eyes roll back again, eyelashes fluttering as you squeeze them shut completely, mouth ajar as filthy noises fall. You’d fall over if it wasn’t for his strong arms holding you up, his fingers moving so fastly on your clit, his dick so deep inside of you, his lips biting gently on your skin, all it takes is another rough thrust and your body begins to shake for a different reason, you fall apart for him, once again. 

You don’t even feel yourself drooling, you no longer feel the tears spilling down your cheeks. 

“Good girl,” he whispers into your ear, kissing the spot behind it before he grabs your chin and tilts your head to the side so he can press his lips against yours, pulling you into a soft kiss as he keeps fucking you, chasing his own high. 

Steve furrows his brows, his muffled moan vibrating against your lips as he gives one last powerful thrust and spills into the condom, secretly wishing that he could spill inside of you and paint your walls white instead. 

His body relaxes after the high it had been on for the past minutes, muscles loosening, but lips still moving gently against yours. 

Both yours and his moans die down after a moment, but you’re still panting, trying to catch your breaths as you pull away from one another. You open your eyes, and look into his, the blackness slowly fading away and you see the pretty hazel color again. His tongue licks his bottom lip, eyes flickering between your own and the marks he left on your neck. 

A lazy smile appears on your face and you feign confidence as you tilt your head to the side and reach your hand up to move the spit curl away from his forehead, the tips of your fingers brushing his skin, he holds you tighter in response. 

“I didn’t think you could get so jealous, Steve,” you whisper, ‘jokingly’ but most of all, painfully to yourself.

You’d hope that he was jealous, that all of this was the result of the burning red emotion, but why would he feel jealous over you? 

Just the presence of Jacob was enough to bruise Steve’s ego. That’s all that it was.

You know he never liked the jock, and the fact that he got his hands on you first, must’ve hit a nerve. But it has nothing to do with you. Steve is not jealous of who you sleep with, he doesn’t care. He is just bruised cause he felt threatened with an ex hook-up you had, afraid of them stealing you for tonight.

Steve huffs at your words, shaking his head at you. He pulls out of you with a hiss, cursing under his breath. 

“Well, did you think I’d let him steal you away from me…?” He asks, clearing his throat as he adds, “tonight?” 

And then he looks down, not wanting to show his face, to show how jealous he really is. 

He doesn’t need you to know that. 

He slips his hand between your thighs again, adjusting your panties and putting them back in place before he fixes your dress, pushing it back down over your ass. 

Your eyes soften at his action, heart fluttering in your chest. 

It’s not the first time he does this, he always takes care of you – he cleans you up, he helps you put a shirt on your body whenever you stay over, whenever you’re too weak to move. He is good to you, gentle and soft, and that is dangerous, because despite the thoughts in your head, the logical part that tells you the truth, his actions keep putting false hope into your heart. 

You grab the counter, and on shaky feet, you step closer and hold onto it tightly, watching as he fixes himself next, throwing the condom and the discarded foil into the trash, he tucks himself back into his pants and steps towards the counter beside you to wash his hands. 

His lips are stained with your lipstick, his hair is messy and his cheeks are flushed – he looks so cute like this. 

You tear your eyes away from him and finally look at your own reflection, your eyes widen and you gasp in shock – not at the mascara that runs down your face, the messy hair or just how puffy your lips are, no, this is not exactly an unusual sight to see, but the marks on your neck are, because they are so much bigger and darker than they usually are. 

You throw your hand up towards your neck and turn to face him, “what the fuck, Steve?” 

He winces, quickly drying his hands before he turns to face you, as well. Eying your hand that is covering the hickeys he left, your big eyes filled with panic. He can’t help but think you look cute like this, with your hair all messy and your lips curled into a pout. 

“H-How am I gonna hide–”

He grabs your face and pulls you into a soft kiss, just a quick peck, one that is enough to cut you off. 

“You think I’m done with you and we’re gonna go back to the party?” He chuckles, caressing your cheek as he pulls away from your puckered lips, “no, we’re leaving, Blondie.” 

You gulp at his words and squeeze your aching thighs together as excitement rises back up in you. 

“So, fix yourself and meet me downstairs,” he murmurs, placing another soft kiss to your lips before he pulls away. “I’ll wait by the front door.” 

He takes another look at your neck, hiding his satisfied smirk by turning around. He unlocks the door and opens it, leaving you alone in the bathroom as he makes his way downstairs to find Eddie or Robin, to announce that he will be driving home a very sick Blondie. 

While a smirk keeps playing on his lips, you are panicking in the bathroom, not knowing how to hide the marks he left, what lie to come up with this time if Eddie sees and asks questions again. 

You do your best to fix your hair, running your fingers through it and wiping away the mascara streaks on your cheeks, and the smudged lipstick, that you only now realize, is still on his lips, he didn’t even bother to wipe it away – what an idiot. 

You step back and take a look at your dress, smoothing it down and moving your hands back to your hair. The marks on your neck are so strong, so very visible, you’re not even sure if foundation and concealer will be able to hide this. A groan falls from your lips. 

You should do the same to him, he surely won’t fix it with makeup. 

You press your palm against your neck, testing out how it will look if you just go out like this. 

“This looks so stupid,” you mutter to yourself, rolling your eyes. 

You pray that you won’t run into any of your friends on the way out, all you have to do is make it downstairs and to the front door. You haven’t seen much of Eddie before, and Robin is too busy with Vickie anyways. 

You take a deep breath and then you step out of the bathroom and into the hallway. It’s not as crowded as it is downstairs, but there are still a few people you have to pass, as you awkwardly keep your hand on your neck, pretending to scratch it. 

You feel eyes on you, but you don’t bother to turn around to look at them, not even caring if they heard you and Steve – as long as your friends didn’t hear, you’re good. 

Your legs are shaky, and walking in your platform heels feels like a workout after Steve just railed you into oblivion, your stomach still flutters, yet feeling empty at the lack of him. 

You walk down the stairs, carefully. You hope that your knees won’t buckle. 

The party is still in full swing, some Billy Idol song blaring through the speakers as the living room is still filled with dancing people. Red solo cups are everywhere, empty bottles and cans litter the counters and tables – poor Vickie will regret throwing a party when she wakes up tomorrow morning. 

Your eyes fall on him, the smug look on his face making you huff in annoyance. Steve enjoys seeing you struggle after what he just did to you, he licks his lips as his eyes run up and down your body, they flash with amusement when they fall on your hand, you see the way his shoulders shake, he is chuckling at you as he plays with the car keys in his hand. Smug bastard. 

You roll your eyes at him, and turn away, looking around to see if any of your friends are around, but the only people you see are strangers and a few known faces from school, you sigh in relief, knowing that you won’t have to lie into Eddie’s or Robin’s face. You return your gaze to Steve whose face is suddenly no longer as smug as it was a few seconds ago, his eyes aren’t even on you anymore, but rather on someone behind you as he looks over your shoulder. 

Someone calls your name, someone who is the reason for the rage on Steve’s face that you had already seen before. 

You turn around when your name is being called again, to find Jacob walking towards you. Oh. 

You grow flustered knowing that the fucked out look on your face is so very obvious. You can’t even hide it. 

He catches up to you, and he reaches his hand out to place it on your upper arm, “hi, there you are,” he smiles, towering over you. He is tall, much taller than you, even taller than Steve. 

You greet him back, forcing a smile. 

He furrows his brows as his eyes scan your face, his smile falling a little, a frown appearing instead, “are you okay?” He asks, worriedly. “Do you feel sick?” 

You shake your head and open your mouth to speak when the words get stuck in your throat after his hand leaves your arm and comes to rest on your face instead, surprising you and angering Steve. 

“Do you need me to take you home?” He asks, caressing your cheek. 

You would have moved, but you are frozen in place as you stare at him, completely caught off guard by his action and the look in his eyes. 

“I-I…”

A different hand appears on your lower back, one that your body instantly recognizes, because your skin heats up and your chest blooms with warmth – it’s scary how well your body knows him. 

Steve pulls you into his side, wrapping his arm around you, “I got her, she’s in good hands, Leeney.” 

Sometimes you wish that he knew how you felt about him, how your heart nearly explodes every time he says something only a boyfriend should say – maybe then, he would take pity on you and your heart. 

You melt into his touch, the smell of his cologne is so intoxicating. 

Jacob retracts his hand, he looks between you and Steve, his shoulders slumping a little as he steps back, he looks down at you, nodding, “alright.” 

“Come on,” Steve murmurs, squeezing your waist as he begins to pull you away, wanting you away from the jock and towards the front door. 

“Bye Jacob–”

“Wait,” he rushes forward, and reaches for your hand, placing a folded note into your palm. “Here, I’m not making the same mistake again.” He gives your hand a squeeze and smiles at you, not waiting for your response, he steps away and takes another glance at Steve, before he turns around and leaves. 

You stare at the note in your hand, you don’t have to open it to know what’s written on the paper. 

You fail to notice the absolute rage in Steve’s eyes, how much more intense it is than before, how tense the muscles in his jaw are, how it takes everything in him not to slam you against the wall and kiss you in front of Jacob and everyone else. 

He pulls you out of the house without a single word, he grabs your hand instead as he leads you outside, he shuts the door and the sound of music and the many voices begin to fade away as you both make your way to his car, which he parked on the side of the road. 

Your heels click against the cobblestone, your hands hold tightly onto his, you’re quiet, and so is he, but a storm is raging in his mind, and everything he felt before, now feels so much worse. 

Can he keep you when there’s other people who want you just as much as he does? – And even, in different, much more intimate ways? 

He saw the way Jacob looked at you, he wasn’t only interested in another quick fuck, he wanted more, and it irritates Steve, it makes his stomach churn uncomfortably, it makes his heart clench in his chest – it shouldn’t, there is nothing more between you than this, and yet, he is scared to lose it, the little secret that you both have, he isn’t ready to let it go, he isn’t ready to let you go and watch you fall into someone else arms. 

He wants to keep you, and he will do everything to make it stay that way. 

He knows that there is only one way to show you that he is the only you will ever need. At least, for now.

He opens the passenger door and lets go of your hand so you can get inside, eying the note that is still in your other hand. He closes the door once you’re seated, and he makes his way around his BMW, when he gets inside as well, he notices the now unfolded note in your lap and the number that’s written on it. 

He grits his teeth but bites back his bitter words. 

You won’t call him, he will make sure of that. 

It’s not easy to focus on the drive when his mind is in such a whirlwind and his eyes keep glancing back at the note in your lap, that you folded back together again. 

You aren’t looking at it any longer, your eyes are focused on the road and the passing trees. 

“What do you plan to do with that number, Blondie?” He asks, unable to hold back and hide the jealousy this time. 

You narrow your eyes at him, taking a look at his hands, you see how hard he is gripping the steering wheel when you take in the sight of his knuckles. The veins in his hands nearly popped. You gulp as your eyes move along his arm, muscles that are hidden beneath the black sleeve of his shirt peeking out just a little, his cheeks are red, his jaw clenched. 

He is angry, but a part of you can see through your insecurities. 

It’s not only his ego that was bruised, it’s not only the anger that shines through, there is more, so much more. 

The jealousy that only you ever felt is lingering in his eyes. 

He is jealous. 

Steve is jealous over you. 

And there is really no reason for him to feel that way, but you can’t stop the rush of excitement and happiness that floods through your body. 

If he felt that way before he dragged you into the bathroom, over an innocent conversation, what will he do now that Jacob has made an entirely new move?

Will you get another taste of what he gave you before?

Will he call you baby again?

You’re stepping into a dangerous territory, you know it, but the thrill over it makes heat pool in your stomach. 

“I don’t know, Lego Head,” you shrug, trying to keep a straight face as you look at him, “maybe I’ll keep it… You know, for when you don’t answer your phone.” You lie as you pick the note back up. 

Steve huffs, shaking his head in disbelief. 

He rolls down the window, giving you no time to react, he snatches the note from your hand and wastes no second to throw it out onto the road, letting it get lost in the darkness. 

“Hey!” You gasp as your eyes widen. 

“Whoops, my hand slipped,” he flashes you an innocent smile as he closes the window again. 

“What if I want to call him!?”

Your question makes him grip the wheel even tighter, knuckles turning white. 

“You don’t need him,” he mumbles. 

You sit up straighter, raising your brows at him, “oh really? I don’t? Why’s that?” 

Steve can’t take it any longer, the feelings inside of him boiling over, controlling all his actions now. 

He pulls the car off the main road, and drives into the isolated wooded area that leads to a stream, a hidden part of Lovers Lake that he only ever came to when he needed to clear his head. 

He slams his foot on the brakes and turns off the car, turning off the lights and unbuckling the seatbelt, he turns to you in anger, “because you literally just said no one can fuck you like I can!” 

Your heart begins to race, goosebumps rise on your skin, and you press your palms against the leather seat beneath you. The giddiness inside of you is now so difficult to keep hidden. 

“Ah, so that should make you exclusive,” you smirk, tilting your head to the side, “okay, well, maybe he got better–”

You don’t even get to finish your sentence, you don’t get to taunt him anymore as he turns his back to you and gets out of the car, slamming the door shut and rounding the car to get to you, he rips open the door on your side. 

“You don’t learn, do you?” 

“W-What?” 

“Get out.” He demands, not nicely. 

You frown at him, watching his stance and how angry he looks at you. “What the fuck–”

“Get out,” he repeats, in a much calmer yet angrier voice. 

You shiver at his command, and you take a deep breath as you unfasten your seatbelt, your heels hit the grass as you get out of the car. Steve places his hand on your back and pushes you out of the way so he can close the door before he opens the one to the backseat. He glares into your eyes, “get in.” 

Your frown transforms into a look of complete confusion as you look between his hand and the seat that he points at. 

“You’re making me change seats?”

He steps closer to you, “get the fuck inside, right now.” 

The demanding, aggressive tone in his voice doesn’t make you question him again, you swallow harshly and turn around, you place your hands on the leather seats as you crawl inside, moaning in surprise when he smacks your ass again.

He chuckles darkly behind you, “you really like that huh?” 

You glare at him over your shoulder, earning another slap to your other cheek, making you jerk and whine. 

He chuckles again and follows you inside, closing the door behind him, “noted.” 

The leather beneath you is cold, and you grip it tightly, sucking in a sharp breath, and just as you go to turn around and sit down, Steve’s strong hands grab at your hips, flipping you over and manhandling you underneath his body as he forces you to lie down on your back. He pushes your thighs apart, settling in between them, he presses his palms flat against the seat on both sides of your head. 

A shiver runs down your spine, not from fear, but from excitement, because he probably didn’t want you to realize he was jealous, but he is showing you. He is clearly showing you and you can’t help but feel absolutely happy, accomplished. 

You know that you’re in for something when you look into his eyes – you can’t even find the right words to describe the emotions that are lingering in them, but they make your inside flutter so wildly, you feel the need to clench your thighs together as he looms over you, but you can’t, he doesn’t let you. 

His nose brushes against yours, his hair falls in front of his eyes as he inches closer to you, his breath kissing your skin. 

“Has anyone ever put you in your place, Blondie?” He asks as he drums his finger along your shoulder, hooking it around the strap of your dress. 

“W-What?” You stutter, hating how weak and shaky your voice sounds. 

“I’m taking that as a no.” 

Steve drags the strap down, and he leans down to press his lips against your shoulder, “I wanted to be nice, baby,” he murmurs against your skin, “wanted to take care of you, but fuck, you leave me no choice.” 

You squirm beneath him, digging your nails into the flesh of your legs as you furrow your brows at his words. 

His lips ghost over your collarbone, his hand now pushing your dress down a little, he exposes your chest to him, and he traces the outline of your breast before his fingers pinch your nipple, making you whine again. 

“Time for you to understand–” He murmurs as he plants a kiss to your jaw, “-- that I’m the only one you need.” 

His movements are soft, his touches are gentle but to your surprise, they don’t stay that way, after a few more kisses, he flips the bottom part of your dress over, bunching it around your waist, he hooks his finger around your panties and tears them off of you, throwing them over his back, not caring where they land. His fingers trace your legs, hands finding their way to your heels, he unfastens the straps around your ankles, and takes them off before he returns his attention to where you need him the most. 

He teases you with his fingers, torturing your clit and chuckling darkly at the whines that start filling the space around you. 

Steve had been intense and rough before, but one look into his face shows you that you will get more tonight, so much more. 

He splits you open with his fingers again, sinking them into your soaked hole, he fucks you with them, he taunts you with his words and sucks more marks onto your skin, littering the other side of your neck and your chest with hickeys. He makes you see stars with the way he curls his digits inside of you and rubs your clit. 

To your surprise and confusion, he doesn’t let you cum, he pulls his fingers out and stops touching you when you’re about to fall apart, just like he did before in the bathroom. Nothing like this ever happened before. 

You don’t think anything of it at first, not when he seems desperate to fill you up in a different way. He fumbles with his pants and pushes them down, along with his boxers. He rolls a condom over his length again, one of many he has in the glove compartment because sometimes you two don’t even reach a bed when seeing each other, rushing to do it just as he did earlier, your mouth waters at the sight of his leaking, red tip. 

“C’mere,” he murmurs, grabbing your waist and pulling your weakened body on top of him, you instantly reach for his shoulders, grabbing them tightly as he gives you no time to react before he makes you sink down on his cock – you don’t mind. You are so needy, so wet for him that your juices soak your inner thighs. 

But you need to feel his skin on yours, so you reach for the hem of his shirt, and pull it over his head, he leans forward as you rip it off of him. You throw it on the seat and wrap your arms around his naked shoulders, pressing yourself against his hairy chest.

You are the first to start moving, rolling your hips and riding him slowly, but he isn’t satisfied with that, he wants something else, he wants more. 

Steve makes you bounce on his dick, he holds your hips harshly and uses you as though you’re a fleshlight, filling you to the brim and slamming you up and down on his dick, fucking you rather disrespectfully. 

He makes you fall forward, as your eyes shut at the roughness and the intensity. He is buried so deep inside of you, you’re not sure if you have ever felt this before. Tears blur your vision again that night, moans turn into whimpers and whimpers into cries, the pleasure so strong, so overwhelming. 

You throw your hand against the fogged up window, slamming your palm against it, leaving a handprint there for him. 

No words escape you, not even his name, the only thing you can do is fall limply against his body and hide your face in the crook of his neck as drool starts coming out of your mouth but the moment it touches his skin, Steve grabs the back of your neck and pulls you back to him again, so he can see your face. 

“Does he even get to see you like this?” He grunts, fucking up into you and watching the way you squeeze your crying eyes shut. “Drooling? Crying? I bet I’m the only one you’ve ever been this cock drunk for… aren’t I?” 

You nod your head wildly, panting and gasping as pain and pleasure mix together. He thinks it’s just physical, but there is so much more to it. You knew you would turn into this for him and just him, you’ve always known.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Steve lets go of your neck, making you fall back against him, he decides to tease you more by smacking your ass, causing you to jolt and whimper, filling him with satisfaction. 

He makes your pleasure the more unbearable, causing you to clench around him. 

And just like before, just as you’re so close to reaching your peak, he stops your movements all together, filling you with anger now, making you snap out of the haze he put you into. He stills and grabs you tightly, so you won’t move, he lifts you up and off his cock, biting back a groan. 

“W-What the fuck, Steve?” You cry out, “I-I was so close!” 

His eyes are nearly unrecognizable when he squeezes your cheeks together with one hand, forcing you to look at him. The angry sight in front of you, only makes you clench around him even harder. 

“You’re not cumming until I say so, Blondie.” It was stern, but Steve had a point to make, he needs to make it happen. 

You aren’t even aware of what is going on inside of his troubled mind, you could never even guess, not even when he flips you over and throws you down under him, placing your left leg over his shoulder. 

The position is quite cramping, but you forget about any kind of pain, when he sinks back inside of you and starts pounding into you with a force that makes the stars shine brighter and your heart race faster. 

Steve is not even focused on his pleasure, despite how good you feel around him, all that he can think about is your pleasure. He gives his all, he gives everything to kill any memory of what any of your other hookups did to you, of the pleasure they made you feel, of the pleasure he once made you feel. 

He snaps his hips into yours, fucking you so deeply and roughly, making his dick ache in pleasure. 

He surely never fucked anyone this way before. He never felt this angry before.

He watches you closely, the way your pussy flutters around his dick, the way you grip the leather beneath you, nearly ripping through it with your nails as tears of pleasure stream down your face and you tilt your head to the side with furrowed brows, your tits bouncing as he slams you back and forth on the seats. 

Your moans are so loud that anyone who were to pass by, would freak out and almost faint or call the cops. 

He is not even touching your clit, not even grazing it with his fingers, not giving it any pleasure again… yet. But he feels your fluttering walls, how tight you are getting around him, how high pitched your moans are getting – you are close, so close. 

And so is he, he keeps thrusting in and out of you, not tearing his eyes off of your beautiful face as he chases his own high, roughly and deeply. Your name falls from his lips, and his hips stutter as he finishes into the condom, groaning as your walls grip him tightly. 

Steve pulls out of you reluctantly, stopping your pleasure once again. 

He pulls your leg off his shoulder gently and places it back on the seat, giving it a squeeze.

His chest heaves up and down, he breathes heavily as he stares at you, biting back the chuckle when your eyes shoot open and a bewildered look crosses your face, the tears in your eyes still shining brightly as you raise yourself up on your elbows, frowning angrily at him. 

“You– I’m going to fucking kill you, Steve, it’s not fair!” Your bottom lip trembles, you are clearly very frustrated with him. 

He looks down to hide the amusement on his face, taking the condom off, he ties it up and throws it on the ground, making a mental note to throw it away later on. 

Steve tugs himself back into his boxers and pulls his pants up, not bothering with his belt just yet. 

He shakes his head at you when you squeeze your thighs together, hiding yourself from him. He hooks his hands around your knees, pulling you closer against him before he tears them apart again, exposing your glistening swollen pussy to him. 

He licks his lips as he hooks your leg around his hip, holding it there as brings his other hand back to your center, he bites down on his lip, looking at you with mischief in his eyes as he delivers a slap to your clit. 

“Wha– Steve!” You gasp in surprise and if he weren’t so determined, so centered on you, he would have been surprised by his action too. 

“Don’t worry,” he murmurs, using his pointer finger to tease your slit, he spreads your folds apart, and slips his middle finger and ring finger into your sopping pussy, he focuses on your face. 

Your angry features slowly relax again, mouth parting as he starts to move his fingers again, this time he does aim for your orgasm… and more. 

He moves slowly at first, rocking his fingers in and out of you, moaning himself at the noises he draws from your pussy. 

Despite the pleasure that you’re falling back into again, you grow flustered at the noises and raise your hands up to your face, covering it and hiding yourself from him, but your action only earns you another slap to your clit. 

“Uh uh,” Steve shakes his head at you, letting go of your leg, he reaches forward and grabs both of your wrists with one hand, dragging your hands away from your face, “don’t hide from me.”

“But–”

He curls his fingers into your g-spot, tearing a gasp from you. 

“No buts,” he grumbles, as he moves steadily, fingering your pussy roughly now. He angles his hand differently, the end of his palm now brushing against your aching clit every time he thrusts his fingers deeply into you. 

He shuts you up quickly, making every word, every sentence get caught in your throat. 

His left hand fondles your boobs, your waist, your stomach, your hip – he touches you everywhere, leaving every inch of your skin burning with desire. His fingertips dig deeply into your leg as he keeps you spread open, his thigh keeping your other leg from closing, as he abuses your cunt with his fingers that are much longer than your own. 

Your back arches in pleasure, your sensitive core crying for more. 

The feeling inside of you is different, new, but you aren’t surprised by it, he edged you three or four times tonight, tears of frustration fell from your eyes, those tears that are now caused by pleasure and sensitivity. 

Your whimpers are so erotic to him, just like the wetness he can hear as he is knuckles deep inside of you, stretching you open. He can see the goosebumps on your skin and the way your stomach tenses up, the way your breathing stutters. 

You are in bliss, he can see it on your face, there is not a single thought in that pretty head of yours. 

He leans down, pressing into you as he inches closer to your face, pecking your lips, “no one else can make you feel like this… no one.” He whispers against your lips, placing another kiss upon them before he moves to your marked up neck, ghosting over it and inching down to your chest, trailing kisses along the way to your boobs. He wraps his lips around your nipple, looking up at you, he begins to suck, adding more pleasure to your body. 

You belong to him. 

“Steve!” You whimper, throwing your hands into his hair, you let your fingers get lost in it. 

He moans against you, quickening the pace of his fingers, curling them even harder inside of you, making you shudder at the feeling, jolting even when he presses his thumb against your swollen clit. 

You tremble beneath him, the wave of pleasure being so strong that a sob falls from your lips, your fingers curling into his hair roughly, “fuck… baby,” you whine. 

A surprised whimper falls from his own lips, the nickname stopping every thought in his mind, for a second. 

Baby, Baby, Baby… 

No one has ever called him that, no one. The fact that you are the first, somehow makes it better, and he doesn’t even know why. 

The coil inside of you grows bigger and bigger, an unfamiliar feeling bubbles in your lower stomach, making drool form on your tongue and stars blur your vision. Your nerves feel as though they are on fire, your skin prickling as he fucks you roughly. 

“I-I’m so close,” you whimper and scrunch your face up as you move your hips a little, meeting his thrusts. 

He is so lost in you and your moans, he doesn’t even realize that he is biting, tugging on your nipple with his teeth until a new, higher moan escapes you. 

“O-Oh my god,” you whisper shakily as your eyes roll back, “S-Steve! That feels so good!” 

“Yeah?” He murmurs against you, lips returning to your neck, he pecks it a few times as he looks down, watching the way your thighs tremble, the way the muscles in your stomach tense so tightly and your chest rises up and down so much heavier than before, “your thighs are shaking so much… holy shit.” 

The pressure inside of you becomes so overwhelming, it feels a lot, it feels too much. 

“S-Steve,” you tremble, “t-that feels weird.” 

Your voice sounds so small, unsure, yet the moans won’t stop escaping you. 

“No, baby, you’re doing so good,” he whispers as he lets go of your leg, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek, he wipes your tears and brushes your hair out of your face, pressing his thumb against your bottom lip, “just trust me… let go for me.” 

You can’t bring yourself to open your eyes, not even when he starts peppering your face with kisses. 

The pleasure is too much, the pressure makes you panic slightly, but he doesn’t stop, if anything, he fucks you harder and faster with his fingers, keeping them curled inside of you, his palm keeps brushing your overstimulated clit. He is hoping to get what he has been seeking. You haven’t trembled this much before, and he is confident, he is so confident that you won’t forget this, that you won’t forget how he made you feel, that you won’t forget him. 

“C’mon,” he murmurs against your lips, “I know you want to.”

Your bottom lip shakes, the pressure threatening to explode inside of you, every inch of your body now burning and quivering. 

You let go of his hair and throw your hand down to wrap your fingers around his wrist, your eyes open, and you look at him through your blurry vision. 

Your moans and the squelching that gets louder and louder, sounds that are like music to his ears, making his stomach flutter and his dick twitch again – to his own surprise. 

“I-I can’t– too much, Steve!” You whine, nearing an edge you have never touched before, “I’m gonna–”

You never get to finish your sentence, because as Steve plunges his fingers in even deeper, and curls them harder. You can only throw your head back, a mix between a squeal and a whimper falling. 

Steve nearly stops all of his movements when you clench around his fingers like a vice. 

Your hips jerk upwards as liquids shoot out of you, and he gets to where he wanted. 

“H-Holy shit–”

Steve’s eyes widen, a chuckle of amusement and excitement leaving his lips, he stares at you in awe. Surprised at the tent in his pants, he is rock hard again. 

He keeps pounding his fingers in and out of you, not stopping his movements just yet. With a smirk, he leans down to kiss your cheek, cooing at you, “you’re such a good girl for me.” He says possessively. 

Your walls unclench around him, and he thinks it’s all, when you suddenly clench again, tighter than before, another shockwave rushes through your body, and you squirt even more, the leather beneath you becoming even wetter than before. 

Steve’s hand is drenched, up to his elbow, and so is the front of his jeans, his stomach and the window behind him. The evidence of how good he made you feel is all over his seats, filling him with pride. 

A satisfied smirk plays on his lips, he feels like he’s on top of the world, he feels like a fucking king again, knowing that he brought such pleasure to your body. 

He never even thought that this was possible, that this move in porn movies is nothing but a myth, but he had to try, he had to try it with you. It would have shamed him before to admit he had been watching more porn than usual just to do the things he sees with you, but now? He feels like he is the most intelligent person in the world.

Your body falls limp, whines and whimpers still filling the space around you, tears roll down your cheek as you’re trying to catch your breath. 

Steve pats your cheek, caressing it gently as he stares at you fondly, “hey, are you okay?” He whispers, unable to stop himself from pecking your lips. 

You nod weakly, still needing a moment to come down from the high. 

He keeps kissing you, playing with your hair as he caresses your skin, pulling his fingers out of you after a while, making you whine again. 

You open your eyes, struggling to keep them open after the intense orgasm you just had. You look into his eyes, they’re filled with victory. A proud smile playing on his lips. 

You raise your eyebrows when you notice the drops on the window, the wet seats, his soaked hands and the wetness beneath you. 

Heat rushes up to your cheeks, embarrassment rushes through you and you can’t help but gasp as you look around the mess that you made. Tears blur your vision, “o-oh my god!” You say weakly, shakily as you start crying, catching him off guard, “I-I’m so sorry, Steve!” 

You press your palms against the wet seats and push to sit up. 

Steve shakes his head at you, he cups your cheeks and shushes you by kissing your lips again, “fuck, Blondie, don’t cry – holy shit, that was so fucking hot,” he chuckles, “it’s just leather, sweetheart. And honestly, this feels like a fucking victory to me.”

You blink through your tears, looking at him with big and glassy eyes, your heart still pounds in your chest, shame swirling deeply in your chest. 

“Really?” 

He nearly faints at the look in your eyes. 

Who would’ve thought that Steve would ever get to see you like this or that he’d get to be the one to make you come undone so intensely? 

You are so vulnerable, right now. It tugs at his heartstrings, knowing that you struggle with emotions, that you hate showing weakness and tears – yet here you are, even if it’s only out of shame, it shows him that you trust him, even if only a little. 

You’re unaware of the fluttering in his chest that you cause, the warmth around his heart as he stares at you. He traces your cheek before he slips his hands down to your waist. 

You look so fucking cute. 

How can he not adore you when you look at him like this?

He gulps as he is completely aware of the way his heart feels. 

You’re going to be a problem, that’s for sure – but he can’t find it in himself to care, not now. 

He sits back and pulls you along with him, dragging you into his lap, he surprises you by wrapping his arms around your shaking, hot body. He pulls you into him so he can hug you, he cups the back of your head and makes you relax against his chest. He presses a kiss to your forehead, feeling the need to treat you gently, sweetly. 

Your breath hitches in your throat, his actions doing nothing to calm your racing heart.

It takes you a moment, but eventually, you calm down and close your eyes as you bury your face in his bare chest, his hair tickling your cheek a little. Steve runs his finger up and down your spine, making your heart race. 

Your body is aching, your legs are trembling, you nearly squeal when his crotch brushes against your center as you try to move closer to him.

“Wait,” he whispers, he grabs your waist again and changes your position, moving both of your legs over his thighs instead, so you don’t have to straddle him, and then, he pulls you back into his chest again. He brushes his fingers against your upper arm, stroking your skin softly, “is that better?” 

You nod. 

“Good,” he whispers, letting all his emotions guide him as he presses a kiss to your temple. 

“Y-You made me squirt,” you whisper, blushing. 

He chuckles, looking down at you and the way your cheek is pressed against his chest, “yeah Blondie, I made you squirt. I never did that in my life, you never did that in your life, we should put a memory plaque here.” 

Finally, a giggle falls from your lips, and you look up at him, amusement shining in your eyes. 

“I need a shower and sleep for like… three days straight.” 

Steve chuckles, squeezing you tighter, he finds himself liking the feeling of holding you this way, he can’t help but want to pull you closer. 

“I’m happy to provide all that for you,” he smiles down at you. 

Steve likes to see you in his clothes, he likes it when you take showers at his place and make his bathroom smell like your shampoo and your sweet body wash. 

He missed it last night. 

He clears his throat, his smile falling a bit, “why didn’t you uh… call me the past two days?” 

You hesitate, not wanting to show your face to him, you keep your head down. 

“Oh uh… I felt sick, nauseous, probably because of something I ate, maybe it was Eddie’s attempt at the homemade burrito…”

Steve’s mind was plagued with ugly thoughts after seeing you with Jacob, but this is beginning to ease his mind a little. 

“Wait so,” he blinks, sitting up straighter as he continues to look down at you, “you were home?” 

You nod, meeting his eyes, “where else would I be?”

It’s not exactly a lie, but it isn’t the whole truth either. You had an appointment in the morning, one that you had been nervously awaiting for weeks. 

The tension that remained leaves his body completely now, relief rushes through him, making him relax fully. 

“I thought… since Jacob was back–”

Your lips part in surprise as your eyes widen, before a smile appears on your lips. 

“Aw, is Stevie jealous and worried that someone is going to take his place?” You ask him, taunting him a little. 

Yeah, he actually is. 

But he can’t tell you that, can he? 

He pinches your ass with his fingers, a smirk tugging at his lips, “don’t get all bratty now, or I will show you how no one can replace me… again.” 

You’re a little taken aback by all the comments, by his actions today, by the softness of his touch, right now. He didn’t fight you on it. He just told you to not be bratty instead of telling you to stop thinking that way.

Today, he treated you as though you were his. 

He acted out of jealousy and was possessive over you, and in the end, he pulled you into his arms, treating you with such gentleness that it will surely leave a stain in your heart forever. 

This is dangerous, he is dangerous. 

He is giving you a glimpse of something that you will never have. 

He is showing you colors, you can’t ever see with anyone else. 

And maybe, this should be enough to make you run into safety, to protect your heart from the pain it will suffer when it’s all over. 

But in what world, would you ever run from him?

You know how this will end, but it won’t stop you from kissing his lips and letting him into you. 

He can break your heart and shatter your soul for all you care. 

It’s all his anyway. 

-

Eddie looked all over for you, the backyard, the kitchen, even the bathroom and the bedrooms, he was sick with worry as he searched for you. He got distracted when Robin forced him into a game of beer pong, with Argyle and Vickie, and lost sight of you. 

The girl ended up calming him down, when she told him that Steve took you home, you looked sick apparently. But Eddie knows better than that. 

He knows deep in his gut that his suspicions were right, that he wasn’t thinking into it too deeply. 

On his way out of Vickie’s house, he bumps into someone, turning around to apologize, he finds a very drunk Jacob, he raises his hands up, slurring out an apology, but then a confused frown appears on his face when he seems to recognize him. 

“Munson, you’re friends with her, right?” 

“Huh, with who?” Eddie mumbles, tilting his head. 

Jacob says your name and Eddie blinks a few times and slowly nods, “best friends actually, what of it?”

The tall jock smells like beer and weed mixed together as he steps closer, invading his space a little. 

“Well, I mean, is she dating Harrington or something?” Jacob asks, shaking his head. 

Eddie raises his eyebrows, curiosity sparking inside of him. 

“Um…” He could say no, he definitely could, but Jacob seems like a source of information right now, and he decides to use this opportunity to find out more, “what makes you think that?” 

“Well, the fact that this guy cockblocked me two times tonight is the main one. Tried flirting with her and he just pulled her away and even dared to glare at me as if I were the one interrupting his conversation, man." Jacob is slurring, rambling, and he just looks like a guy that lost the opportunity, not someone who would push you into a date or something. 

But Eddie is stunned by the revelation, so he pressed forward.

“Two times?”

“Yeah, the first one he took her somewhere as soon as I started talking to her, and the next he interrupted us so he could leave with her... Say sorry to Harrington for me, she didn't tell me she was dating him,” he mumbles, waving his hand as he rolls his eyes and steps.

Eddie’s gears work, trying to figure out a way to confirm all of this, but for now, the information is enough, his suspicions only growing with certainty. A small honest smile appears on his face and he pats Jacob on the shoulder.

“Thank you Leeney. I'll make sure to let Stevie know.” 

The blond nods and steps away, giving him a weak smile before he walks off, leaving Eddie by himself. 

His dark brown eyes flash with understanding and realization, a laugh of disbelief falling from his lips as he puts all the puzzle pieces together. 

He brings his hand up to his chin and shakes his head when he thinks of the marks on both yours and Steve’s skin. 

A scoff falls from Eddie’s lips. 

“Chandler and Heidi, right.” 

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @mysticmunson @taintedcigs @joekeerysmoles @ibellcipem @maroon-cardigan @sherrylyn628 @corrodedcorpses @munsonlore @munson-mjstan @agirlwholovesrockstars

[gayasswitchbitch]

One Piece- Do they get jealous?

Synopsis: One piece headcannons! Do they get jealous when someone tries to flirt with you?

Ft: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Robin, Nami, Ace, and Law

Tw: none (I THINK) just insecure and jealous thoughts.

Luffy- He wouldn’t understand someone flirting in the first place. I think Nami would have to point out that another person is flirting with you, but even then he doesn’t get it. He would something along the lines of :

“There’s no way someone is flirting with y/n because they’re my partner! Geez.. you guys are dumb!”

He genuinely can’t fathom that someone would try to get with you when he is already with you!

Zoro- I don’t think so. He’s a very confident man and has a decent sized ego. He knows what he’s got. Hes not insecure enough to be jealous over someone liking you.

That being said, I don’t believe he’d just let someone flirt with you though. 100% ready to fight ESPECIALLY if someone puts their hands on you in any way. He’d tell them to back off because you’re taken maybe even a:

“Yeah my partner is really beautiful/handsome aren’t they?” with a smirk and an arm wrapped around your shoulder just to piss them off.

It’s his way of showing you off and making it known that he’s willing to throw down if needed, but he would most likely make another shitty comment and then leave with you in hand.

If they keep persisting though, then he’s going to get pissed off but he def tries to keep it cool before it gets to a fight breaking out.

Sanji- GOD YES. SO JEALOUS. Don’t even let mosshead BREATHE near you! Any time you give another person, specifically another man, attention he LOSES IT.

“Do you hate me, my love? Am I not good enough for you? Tell me what I can do better. I’ll do anything for you just please spare me a passing glance again! What could they give you that I can’t? I’d walk to the ends of the earth for you. I’d starve if it meant you could eat. My love please tell me you still love me!”

When all that happened was you were asking Usopp to help you with some gadget and it took too long in Sanji time. (Which was probably an hour)

He would def try to compete with anyone that did flirt. It was a fierce battle and there was no way he’s losing.

“Did you know that my y/n-swan loves the rain? You can always find her by a tree, blissfully meditating. They love it because it makes them feel like all their stress is being washed away. You can see it fall right off their shoulders. Did you also know that their favorite color is (whatever) ? You can always catch a twinkle in their eye anytime they see it. They have exactly 7 outfits in that color. Did you also know that they like to collect trinkets? They pick one up at every single place we stop the sunny at. Yeah I took it upon myself to be the one to find the trinkets now. Did you know that? Did you also know-“ and he wouldn’t stop.

I could even see him taking it as far as to tell them that they’re not good enough for and could never be good enough for you, then would immediately turn around and seek validation from you to make sure you love him and only him.

Robin- She doesn’t get jealous, she gets possessive. Babygirl has had everyone she loves taken from her so she’s making damn sure you’re not going away and that means you are by her side 24/7.

Most of the time no one even dares to think about flirting with you due to how scary she can be.

She’s a very observant woman. If someone liked you she would instantly spot it and give death stares.

If they still tried to approach you, she would be crossing her arms to take them out, smiling the entire time.

Nami- I think it would only happen if she genuinely thought someone was prettier than her and they were around you alot.

She would get sad and seek reassurance by trying to push your buttons. If that doesnt make her feel better then she would walk up to you and turn at glare at the person before wrapping her arms around your neck to pull you into a deep kiss. After she’s swirling around and giving a “Hmph.” And walking away.

Most of the time she knows she got it. If you wanna be stupid and cheat then it’s on you when she burns down all your belongings.

Ace- This man is already insecure as fuck and your ass is out here being fine as hell. It’s stressful because he knows you’re fine and he knows that other people know you’re fine. He’s like a damn guard dog that doesn’t stop barking. He finds ways to constantly bring you up and it’s a front to make sure everyone knows you’re taken.

“What was that? Oh yeah my partner is really smart! I’m so proud of you babe!”

“Man look at my partner. They’re so strong!”

If he sees someone flirting he gets an instant wave of anxiety. What if you finally realize there’s other people better suited for you out there? What if you finally see that he’s nothing special and that you should move on? What if you see that he’s really not as handsome as you think he is? And what if you think this person is more handsome/pretty? What if they’re funnier? What if he never gets to be the one to put a smile on your face again? Then it’s breakdown time. This happens at least twice a month. He will go on about how he doesn’t deserve you, doesn’t deserve to be here, doesn’t deserve so much goodness when his blood is so corrupt.

Just remind that baby that you’re with him because you love him, you do think he’s the most handsome and it’s insane that he doesn’t see it, that he’s the only person that can make you laugh so hard and so on and he’s good for another month. This only lasts for maybe the first year or so. The more you reassure him, the more confident he gets in your love and starts realizing he is worth of it.

Sabo- Like Robin, he’s more possessive. He will politely laugh along with any onlookers while you’re around and thank them for complimenting you, but as soon as you’re not in the room it’s near death threats.

“Look, I understand y/n is very beautiful/handsome.. but you try and flirt with them again and it’ll be the last thing you ever do”

He says it so calmly, eyes so wide, that it’s actually terrifying.

I could also see him being much more calm about it and making some obscure lie to make them go away like telling them you have a contagious disease and then forcefully coughing until they run away. He’d walk back to the base laughing his ass off too.

Law- I wouldnt say he gets jealous.. he gets irritated. He knows when someone is flirting with you and as long as they don’t take it to physical touching he won’t do anything. He trusts you and knows where you two stand but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t cause burning pain in his chest.

Bepo may point out what’s happening and he’s like:

“I’m aware. If they needed help they would say.” But it’s honestly taking all his strength not to strangle the person.

Sachi and Penguin might stir the pot and ask their captain what he would do if you were enjoying it, which was an awful idea. Now he’s slammed a hand on the table and clenching his jaw.

“They don’t.” He says through gritted teeth.

“But-“

One word. The one ‘but’ was all it took for Law to jump out of his seat, rush over to you and grab your hand into his roughly.

“Come on. We’re leaving.”

If you tried to hesitate he’d whip his head around and give you a stare. One you know that if you disobey you’ll be scrubbing the deck for the next week. So he’s taking you back to the ship and throwing you against his office door in a heated kiss.