#of course he only gets looks like he's gone nuts | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hungharrington · 11 months ago

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okay what are ur thoughts on challenging steve to edge himself everyday for no nut november 🫣 do you think he would make it through the entire month????

okay this turned into a whole rambling thought fic ??? a whole 3k of it?? this is hella unedited cos i'm running out the door so i'll be back to check for mistakes but enjoy some sub!steve & some sorta mean!reader, definitely a hint of a humiliation & exhibitionism kink so beware if that isn't your thing! enjoy u horny bastards MDNI this entire blog is 18+

the whole thing comes about because of a playful bicker.

it’s starts with talking about how long you’ve gone without sex— with steve insisting his dry spell before you two started fooling around was way longer and more difficult than yours.

and you had laughed and teased, cooing about how he could absolutely not make it through an entire week without cumming like you did for a whole month— while he insists the opposite is true.

and steve is nothing if not a competitive bastard who loves to try prove people wrong. so you challenge him to last the whole month — no cumming, no nothing.

but you don’t say no touching. and steve, poor, oblivious to the consequences he’s going to feel very soon, figures there’s no harm in giving in to his morning wood, rutting against his sheets with these quiet grunts until he gets bored and rolls out of bed. it’s something he’s done before and his hard-on goes down in the shower like usual & he goes to work far too smug, feeling so confident and ready to brag when he sees you.

you come into family video middle of the day and steve delights, ready to demolish the challenge you’ve set, bragging about his easy morning and his killer restraint.

your eyebrows raise and you look pleasantly surprised — not miffed, like steve hoped you would — and you offer to raise the stakes. leaning over one of the shelves as he works idly, you change the rules a bit… and set a prize if he’s to complete your challenge.

“if you go the whole month, no cumming, i’ll let you fuck me,” you hum, a wicked smile on your mouth at the way steve straightens up. you’ve been fooling around, tucking your hands into each others pants like horny teenagers but you haven’t actually slept together yet. “anywhere you want, any way you want,”

and steve is smarter than he looks, even as you can see this lust glazing over his eyes— options, so many options pour into his mind.

you in his car, in his lap, riding him and making those nice pitiful noises you do. you in his bed, beneath him, head thrown back in his sheets as you cry out. you, against the wall behind the family video, hidden away but only just, moaning into his hand as you try to keep quiet while you fall apart on his cock.

his cock begins to thicken in his pants just at the thought & steve shifts his weight.

“what’s the catch?” he asks.

“to make your challenge more difficult, you have to touch yourself every day of the month.”

“touch myself?”

“mhm,” you nod, eyes darting down to his bulge. your wicked grin grows at the sight of it growing in his jeans. “properly. not just a little touch, a proper jerk off. how long’s it take you to get hot and bothered? let’s say 5 minutes of stroking, each and every day.”

you’ve got this look in your face like you don’t think he can do it — so of course, steve takes the bait.

“easy.” he snips back, eyes narrowing. “hope you’ll spend the month getting prepared to take it. after a whole month of nothing? can’t promise i’ll be too gentle.”

your smile turns almost feline.

and so it begins. the first few days sail by, steve easily using his mornings in bed to stroke his cock idly, feeling his desire swell and then letting it swirl down the drain in a shower that gets colder every day. after the fifth day, steve has to admit it’s not nice — he can feel his mounting urge to cum building up but it’s not terrible. it’s certainly ignorable. he’s got this in the bag.

another five days pass— but now, he’s waking up aching hard. it takes longer now in the shower to get his hard-on to flag and worse when steve realises he has to still jerk off to win your challenge. his hand feels so much softer than usual and his keyed up lust springs to the surface to moment he starts to stroke himself— steve groans lowly, pressing his head against the tiles and tries go think of unpleasant things.

he fucks up on day 13.

his alarm goes off late and his dream had been lewd and vulgar, an endless loop of sinking his fat cock into you and envisioning how wet and warm you’d be around him. his cock is throbbing when he drags himself out of sleep and he realises he’s been humping against the mattress in his sleep.

the cold shower helps, barely. shivering beneath the icy spray, steve stares at his thickened cock and groans— knowing if he wraps his hand around it now and fucks his fist, he’ll cum in a minute.

so he leaves it and goes to work, wound up enough to snap at robin and then apologise 20 minutes later. you come into his work again, having been absent for the last couple of days, and it’s like you can smell it on him.

“hard morning?” you smirk at him.

“fuck off,” he growls, shoving a vcr back onto one of the shelves. then he looks back at you. “i’m still winning your stupid challenge by the way.”

“uh huh,” you say, not believing him at all. “how’s it’s been going? fucking your cock but never getting finish?”

even your words have an effect on him. steve feels his body flush, his dick strain in his pants, his gut churning with heat. he stiffens up and scrambles to think of a reply — but you’re already laughing.

“oh man, we’re not even halfway through the month and i think you could blow in your pants right here.” you muse teasingly. steve grips the shelf tighter and shakes over the fluster you have on him.

“i have more self restraint than that,” he snips back. the flush passes and he resumes his task, flashing you a quick glare.

you nod and hum again, like you don’t believe a thing he’s a saying, and then he’s watching you head out the door again.

the moment steve realises he’s fucked up is when he’s getting into bed. his cock is, thankfully, not hard — even if there is this persistent tug from his balls that never seems to leave. but he hasn’t stroked himself at all today.

painstakingly, he begins to — soft, gentle strokes over his cock, hoping, praying he can get five minutes in without working himself up too bad. it’s futile because it only takes about twenty seconds behind his cock is twitching in his hand, growing heavier, the head of it beginning to dribble pre-cum and steve moans in anguish into his pillow.

he stares at his alarm clock and strokes slowly, so slowly, having to stop every couple of seconds until finally five minutes passes. steve sighs and releases his cock which twitches in response, the head giving a sad spurt of pre-cum. he’s so keyed up he can’t possibly sleep. his cock is so hard it’s throbbing.

as he pulls his boxers up and buries himself under the duvet, but every touch is too stimulating, his skin on fire with how the urge to cum itches beneath it. he ends up having a very cold shoulder at 3am and his cock never fully softens.

it’s brutal from there on out. from day 14 onwards, his cock remains in this permanent state of aching, always half thickened and ready to go the moment it gets some stimulation. which turns out, is far easier to get now— jeans on the tighter side, the right seat, even the rumble of his car beneath him are enough to have steve swearing and pushing at his crotch, willing it to go down.

that’s how you find him on day 20, five minutes late for his shift because he’s staring down at his tented jeans and trying to think of anything to make it go away. your tap on his window makes him startle, seizing in his seat before he realises it’s probably the only person who’s expecting to see him with a boner in public.

“hard morning?” you joke again, this time pointing at his obvious bulge.

steve glares at you. “you already made that joke.”

“and you didn’t appreciate it the first time!” you say back cheerily. you round the front of his car and open the door, plopping yourself in the passenger seat like you own it.

“what are you doing?” steve asks, going to cross his arms but feeling terribly exposed. he settles for covering his groin, muscles twitching at the slight stimulation the weight of his hands does. his hips twitch forward.

“i’ve got a proposition for you,” you say.

steve shakes his head instantly. “nope, no way.”

you laugh at his quick insistence. “wait listen! i think you will want to consider it, okay?”

you pause and when steve doesn’t say anything more, just eyes you warily, you continue.

“i will knock off five whole days off your challenge,” you hold up your hand, fingers splayed out to indicate the number. your mischievous eyes make steve worry. even if five days off makes his challenge that much easier.

“if you do your five minutes today right now.”

steve blinks. his chest flushes hot at your proposal as it sinks in— here, in the parking lot in front of his work, you want him to jerk off for five whole minutes?

“what? right here?” the question bursts out of him.

it’s not busy out in the least. even in the store, steve hasn’t even seen keith walking about or any customers milling around. he knows keith won’t come outside to fetch him and he’s the only car in the parking lot, besides one another that parked down the other end.

“five minutes for five days off,” you say, twiddling your fingers with a wicked smile.

steve considers it, even though he can already feel his cock growing harder beneath his hands. he groans and throws his head back against the headrest. was he really about to do this?

he looks at the time and then starts to undo the button of his jeans. fuck, guess he was.

he steals a glance at you as he pulls down his zipper and tugs his jeans down a couple inches to expose his boxers. the mischief from your smile has faded, a hunger taking its place. steve averts his eyes, far too aware of how his cock twitches in his boxer at your attention.

he slips a hand into his boxers and curls it around his hard cock. a keening noise pulls from his throat and steve blushes scarlet— all his little noises as he’s spiraled into this lustful denial haven’t had an audience until right now.

he shifts his hand up, a slow stroke, but you’re quickly reaching out to grab his wrist, halting to movement. steve opens his eyes, not sure when they had closed, and makes a noise of confusion.

you grin deviously. “wait,” you point to the clock on the dash. “you can go when the minute changes, big boy.”

steve’s hips jump forward at your words, both the name and your denial. he groans before he can help it, his eyes trained intently on the dash. in his hand, his cock leaks pitifully, a wet spot beginning to stain through his boxers.

humiliatingly, you notice it too. “aw, you’re making a mess and you haven’t even started.”

“stop,” steve murmurs, aiming for stern but failing pathetically. the word comes out as a whine. his cheeks glow fiery hot.

you laugh and then tap his wrist— the minute having flicked over just a second ago.

steve starts his stroking, slow and easy, his eyes slipping closed. five minutes, he can do five minutes of jerking off. even if he was suddenly keenly aware of your watchful gaze, of the window beside him, of the pure exposure of the situation.

“that’s not jerking,” you huff disapprovingly. steve’s eyes crinkle open, his mouth already hung open as he pants softly. his hand does another pass over his cock and he smothers a moan into the palm of his hand.

“go faster or it won’t count.” you say wickedly and steve whimpers, his hand obeying without thought. with the way he’s leaking all over himself, it only takes a couple long strokes before he’s making lewd, wet noises as he fucks into his hand.

it shouldn’t be as hot as it is — rubbing his own cock while you watch, eyes darting between his moving hand and his flushed face. steve can hear himself making little noises with every exhale, tiny little whines as he burns up. the coil in his tummy tightens unexpectedly.

“f-fuck-!” he stops his hand completely, gripping the steering wheel with the other as he feels his orgasm swell. it grows closer, so near to tipping over that steve can’t control his hips as they keep moving, rutting into the air frantically, into nothing, as they try to get him over the edge.

it takes another thirty seconds for his breath to catch and steve to settle down enough to not cum immediately. he quivers in his seat. his eyes flutter open to look at you.

“that was really cute,” you muse, eyes almost feline, dragging up and down his body, slow as trickling honey. steve feels his cock twitch at your words, flushing hotly when your eyes dart to his boxers and definitely notice.

“not five minutes though,” you say with teasing tilt in your voice. you point to the clock on the dash. “i think that was… 1 whole minute?”

despite how he tries to stop it, steve can’t help the pathetic noise he makes in response. he wants to be able to finish this stupid fucking challenge you’ve set, wants to prove himself, wants to be good.

he starts moving his hand again before he can consider how bad of an idea it is. he should just say no and do the next ten days. but it’s wet and warm in his hand, the tip of his cock so drippy that he can pretend his hand is yours. you seem pleasantly surprised to see him going again so soon, your lids low as you watch him closely.

“are you normally this loud?”

steve knows you mean the slick noises coming from the way he’s fucking into his hand. he tries to huff but it comes out as a quiet moan and his face flushes hotter again.

he shakes his head instead, his hair scraping against the headrest. god, his neck is burning up. he’s pretty sure he’s never been harder in his life — but fuck, he can’t stop now.

“how- how ma- many minutes?” the words strain to get out, wrapped in his arousal. his nipples peak hard in his shirt, the friction only adding to his pleasure.

at some point, his hand stopped moving all together and his hips started doing all the work. steve presses against the drivers seat, hips lifting off and bucking into his hand and— shit, it’s too much, the sticky boxers are gonna make him cum if he rubs against them one more time.

in haste, he shoves them down his thighs, exposing his cock to you and anyone who deigns to take a peek in his window. something churns in his gut and steve screws his eyes up, willing himself not to cum yet. so close, he’s so close.

“just one more,” you say, suddenly sounding more breathy than before. steve’s eyes snap open, darting over to look at your face — but you’re fixated on his crotch, watching with a hungry expression.

your eyes lift to his face. another devious smile. steve whines. so close, he’s so fucking close, so close he can taste it. he can win, he can do it.

“steve,” you say softly, reaching out to nudge his chin in your direction. he wasn’t aware of when his eyes slipped shut again but your staring him in the face all lovingly, all wickedly and steve wills his orgasm down. another minute, another fucking minute, he can wait, he’s so close he’s— “cum,” you command.

steve does. white hot flashes through his body as he tips over the edge, ecstasy washing over every sense, stronger than he's ever felt before. his cock kicks up in his hand and a whorish moan drags out of his throat as he paints the steering wheel with ropes of cum.

for a minute, steve doesn't give a fuck if he's just lost— he just cares about how fucking good it feels to fuck his fist, to feel every pass over his slit all the way through his body. he whines and whimpers as the feeling tapers off, his hips finally settling down into the seat.

the mortification of what he's done begins to set it, like the drizzles of cum drying on his steering wheel. he can't stop panting, can't think of single word to say, his lips opening and closing as he tries to recover from the best orgasm of his life.

he hears the car door open and it shoots him into gear, stuffing himself back into his sticky boxers, a shiver going down his spine at how unpleasant it feels. oh fuck, and he's got a whole shift ahead of him.

you're still hovering, one hand on the open car door, leaned down and watching him frantically try to recover— all with that damned wicked smile on your face.

you rap your knuckles on the roof of the car. "damn. better luck next month, right harrington?"

you don't sound sorry at all. steve watches you close the door and leave, weaving between the stores and out of sight as his cock softens and his boxers grow colder. he screws his eyes up and smacks his head back against the headrest.

he's so fucking screwed.

#jay writes #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader smut #sub!steve #sub!steve harrington

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subbmissivesuccubus · 1 year ago

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No Nut November ~

a/n. A request by my Patron for the month of November! It was quite the fun one. If you'd like me to write a story for you, please consider joining my Patreon! (link in bio)

Contains : Toji X Fem reader. No nut November antics. Toji being horny. Reader being a tease.

"Fuck-" you cursed, panting heavily as you lied back on the bed, finally getting a break. Your partner, Toji, lied down next to you, half as tired but just as satisfied. He hummed as his muscled relaxed, hot and sweaty from the numerous rounds of sex, completely naked as he got comfortable enough to drift into sleep.

You couldn’t help but frown at him, a bit annoyed at his satisfied and content expression while your body was crying from the over-stimulation. He had taken you over and over and over again, his stamina seemingly never ending as he fucked you multiple times in multiple positions. Even when you complained that you couldn’t take it anymore, he claimed that he’d make you take it. And after he pumped you with several loads of cum, he finally called it a night.

"You- you're such a horndog." you said. The man chuckled, manhandling you to get closer to him, placing you on his chest before giving you a sweet kiss on your hair. “You love it.” He teased, giving your butt a greedy squeeze, making you flinch as he touched the bright red mark he had left on your cheek before.

This was your routine. Toji and you would go to work, you'd come back home, have dinner together before he took you to the bedroom and gave you the most toe curling, back arching, pussy squirting pleasure you'd ever experienced. The man had a huge dick and a ton of stamina, not going soft unless he's cum multiple times.

And it's amazing it truly is.

But after a while...it becomes a lot. There's only so many times your pussy can take a pounding before she gets sore and it starts to hurt even when you sit down. There's only so many times your nipples can get suckled on before any friction, even from your bra, makes them ache. There's only so many times you can wear a turtleneck before people connect the dots. You tried to say so to Toji, letting him know of your trouble but he either laughed it off, took is as a compliment and continued to fuck you silly regardless.

His desire for you and his constant want to have his hands on you was a big ego boost, but you needed a break and you figured out the perfect way to do it.

“Have you heard of something called No Nut November?” Toji snorted, looking down at you amused, “Sounds stupid. I’m guessing it means you don’t cum in all of November?” “Exactly. It’s an internet challenge. Think you can do it?” He chuckled again, not taking it seriously, “I have a beautiful girlfriend who I can fuck on a daily basis- why would I give that up for a dumb internet challenge?” “Hmm, thought so.” You said, acting unimpressed as you poked his nose, “There's no way you can keep your hands off of me for a month. You don't have the self-control. Why am I not surprised?"

Now, Toji knew what you were doing. You were baiting him, plain and simple. And was he going to fall for it? Of course not... but he didn’t like your tone.

"Wanna bet on that?" he asked.

You tried not to grin, the man falling for your trap hook, line and sinker. There was no way a man as proud as him would not rise to the challenge just to prove you wrong.

“Fine. From tomorrow until the end of December, you can’t cum.” You said, “That means no sex and no jerking off. If you fail, I get to decide when we have sex for at least a month.”

“And if I win, you are going to be my little sex doll I can fuck whenever I want with no complaints.” Toji challenged. You scoffed, more than confident that he wouldn’t be able to do it.

“Deal!”

~~~~~

One week had gone by and it was already hell. Toji had to will himself to not drag you into the bedroom every night, the condescending smirk on your face actually giving him motivation to keep going. Ever since he started dating you, sex was a common and daily occurrence so to have it taken away was difficult for him to navigate but he could do this. He was an adult with self-control and he wasn’t a horny teenager who needed to get their rocks off all the time.

But during week two, he wondered if he truly had the self-control he thought he did.

You were not making it easy for him, oh no. You were a naughty little minx and once Toji went by one week with no sex, you realised you needed to make him break. Whether it was make-out sessions with a bit more tongue than you normally use, or ‘forgetting’ to lock the door while you showered so he’d walk in on you naked, or going to bed in nothing but his oversized t-shirt, or asking him to give you a massage and letting out sweet, filthy little moans as he worked out the knots. These small things were piling up, riling the man up even more to the point where in a sweet kiss from you would make his dick hard. You were good. But he wasn’t giving up.

But neither were you. And you decided to ramp it up for week 3.

“…And what are you doing?” Toji asked, looking you up and down and undressing you with his eyes. You were standing by the bedroom door, looking absolutely stunning in a lingerie piece he hadn’t seen before. It was a beautiful lace red piece, the underwear framing your body deliciously. Your tits, your stomach, your ass and the heaven between your legs- all the blood instantly went to his cock just by looking at you.

“Tojiiii~” you cooed, walking over towards him, your hips swaying seductively as you reached him. He was sitting against the headboard of the bed, idly scrolling through his phone but the random video he was watching was all but forgotten as you crawled between his legs. Your tits were practically swinging in front of his face as you straddled him, the man unable to deny you as he placed a hand on your waist, running his fingers over the soft lace.

“I’m so horny, Toji~” you cooed, rubbing your hand up and down his covered chest, “I need you.”

“Nice try.” The man responded, snorting as he flicked your forehead with his other hand, making you gasp, “I know your game here, little minx. You’re not getting me to fuck you.”

“How mean.” You said, pouting adorably and showing off the lip gloss you had put on, “If you’re not interested, then this can probably go on past November-“ “Not a chance.” Toji growled, gripping your waist so tightly it made you gasp, “You know I’m owning that pussy once this month is up. So be a good girl and wait.” “Wait?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow, “Why do I have to wait? I’m not doing the stupid challenge.” You smiled at the way Toji’s eyes followed you as you got off of him, bending over in front of him as you reached for a familiar drawer in the bedside table.

“Just because you’re not going to fuck me doesn’t mean I can’t have fun~” you said, holding up your favorite wand vibrator as well as a thick, vibrating dildo. “It’s not as big as you, but it’s good enough~”

What proceeded was the worst yet best night of Toji’s life. He watched as you pleasured yourself, your sweet moans echoing through the room as you fucked yourself with your toys. With the vibrator rubbing your clit and the dildo sliding in and out of your pussy, you practically gave him a private show. Your lingerie was still on your body but pulled aside to expose your breasts and your cunt, making you look so delicious he just couldn’t keep his hands to himself. He didn’t dare to touch himself as he helped you along with your session, growling dirty things into your ear as he took over and fucked your cunt with the dildo, working it way better than you could yourself, groaning in delight as he suckled on your nipples as he drove you over the edge.

His dick was so hard it felt like it would explode. But he wouldn’t budge. He wanted to- God he wanted to- but he was going to stay strong. The reward he’d get for sticking with this at the end of the month would feel way better than the momentary pleasure he’d get from rubbing one out. So he stayed strong. Days went by, feeling longer and longer and your antics growing more and more bold. Your masturbation sessions were happening often, you were walking around the house in skimpy clothing, he’d wake up and find that you had ‘accidentally somehow fallen asleep with your face close to his cock’ but try as you might, you couldn’t break him.

He increased the ice-cold showers. He took longer working hours to distract himself. He fingered you so he could remind you of how good he was going to take you once the month was up. Hell, he even took up meditation to try and ease the tension in his body. And finally. Finally. After all that hard work- he made it.

He did it. He actually did it.

He was on the last day of November.

A full month of no sex. No pleasure. No jacking off. His cock hurt and his balls ached so badly, dying for some release and he couldn't wait to get it. Tonight, when the clock strikes midnight, he was going to take you and pound the shit out of you- fucking you so hard you won't be able to walk for days. He made sure you knew it too. Throughout the day, he was whispering filth to you, growling in your ear and palming his cock in front of you, loving the blush on your face as he detailed all the bad and naughty things he was going to do to you tonight. There was no doubt you felt defeated and after this, he was going to break and punish you.

Just an hour. He could do this. He was going to do this!

He was lounging on the couch of the living room, not focusing on what was on the TV as his mind was occupied with lust when he saw you walk out of their bedroom and upto him.

"How do I look?" you asked, twirling around so he could see your outfit. It was a cute short dress with a pair of leggings and he hummed in approval.

"You going out?" he asked.

"Yup!" you said, suddenly dragging a suitcase from behind you, "I’m going to my parents’ house."

Toji raised his eyebrows, his eyes widening. What?

What?

"Excuse me?" he asked, watching as you dragged your suitcase over to the door.

"Sorry, I forgot to mention it before." you said casually, clearly ignoring the expression on his face, "Last minute plan- you know how it is."

"Bullshit." the man snarled, walking upto you before slamming his hands on the wall behind you, caging you, "You're just trying to fuck with me, aren't you?"

"Whatever do you mean?" you asked, a curious tilt in your tone which told Toji all he needed to know, "I just miss home and I know you have a busy workday tomorrow so I didn’t think you’d want to come. That’s not a problem, is it? I’ll only be there for a week.”

“A week-“ Toji growled, nails digging into his fist as he still cornered you against the wall, “You’re not fucking serious.”

You shrugged, faking innocence, “I mean, is there any reason I shouldn’t go? I have a few days off from work and my mom has been begging me to come by someday. The train leaves in…” you checked your watch, ignoring Toji’s scoffs at your audacity, “thirty minutes. So I better get going-“

“You’re not going anywhere you little brat!” Toji snarled, his patience snapping. There was no way in hell he was going to let you leave and have you been gone for a week. He was confident you were just bluffing but he was not taking that change. With a growl, he bent down and threw you over his shoulder, making you yelp as you were suddenly held upside down. He gave you butt a sharp spank, a slap so hard it made you forget how to breathe for a second before he stormed towards the bedroom.

“Wh- what about the bet?” you asked once he threw you onto the bed, Toji immediately getting undressed as he practically ripped his shirt off.

“Fuck the bet.” He said, grabbing you by the ankles before he pulled you towards him, a feral look in his eyes as he fisted the fabric of your tights, “Fuck No Nut November. And fuck you.”

You gasped as he started tearing apart your tights, the fabric ripping away like paper as all he could think about was fucking you. You could see the imprint of his cock straining against his sweatpants, you man already hot and bothered and eager. Your heart was beating fast in your chest, the excitement over-riding the fact that you were going to win the bet. Once the tights were torn enough and before you could even get a second to complain, he flipped you onto your stomach.

He slid your panties to the side, so desperate for you that he couldn’t be bothered to properly undress you before he grabbed two greedy handfuls of your ass. You mewled under him as he squeezed, the man spreading your cheeks apart before he dove in, face first. You yelped as Toji took a long, rough lick of your pussy, the familiar sensation something you truly missed since the start of the bet. You gasped and moaned as he started feasting on your cunt, his thick tongue sliding into you and working you open, your pussy slowly getting wet for him.

Toji growled against you, the vibration making you feel even better as he got you hot and bothered. His cock was so hard it was genuinely hurting him, the sensation of your pussy against his tongue and the taste of your sweet nectar making him go into overdrive. But even your pussy wasn’t going to make him forget how you pissed him off.

“Mmph- this isn’t for you- got it?” he snarled, smacking your ass once to get your attention, “I’m getting this cunt wet enough to fuck my fat cock deep inside you. I don’t care if you feel good and I don’t give a shit if you cum or not- you’ve gotten enough of that this month.”

“Don’t be- ah- mean.” You protested, gasping as he suddenly pulled away from you and flipped you onto your back again. “Oh, I haven’t even gotten started.” Toji said as he grabbed the hem of your dress and pulled it up harshly, also not caring to take it off completely. All he wanted was access to your tits and once he pulled your bra upto your chin, he got what he wanted. “You’ll see just how mean I can be.”

He took a nipple into his mouth before you could say anything, not wanting to hear anything out of your lips unless it was moans, cries or apologies. He slid his fingers into your panties, his thick digits sliding between your damp pussy lips, the slick sound of the contact echoing through the air. Despite the attitude, he knew you missed him too. Dildos just didn’t compare to him.

He slid a finger inside you, the glide easy due to your wetness as he slowly but thoroughly started stretching you out for his cock. Your fingers were in his hair, tugging at it harshly as he suckled on your nipple, his tongue twirling the sensitive bud around before he bit down, making you yelp from the pain. You rocked your hips against his fingers, arching your back as he slid a second one inside you before scissoring you open just how you like it.

“Fuck- good enough.” Toji said, separating from your nipple (which he indeed sucked raw) and gently taking his fingers out of you. He knelt between your legs after he gave you a quick peck on the lips, pushing his pants down to reveal his cock. Your eyes widened at the sight, your pussy throbbing as you gazed at the member you practically hadn’t seen all month. It was rock hard and twitching, precum leaking out of the tip that was so red, you wondered if it would burn your tongue if you sucked on it. His balls were always big and heavy and you didn’t know if the time apart muddled your memory a bit but you swore, they were somehow bigger.

“Spread those fucking legs- show me that pussy.” Toji said, gripping his cock before he started tapping it against your cunt, purposefully targeting your clit and making you tremble from each hit, “Look at that. So needy and dripping even though you fucked yourself on that dildo every other night.”

He spat on your pussy, making you gasp at the vile action but it made your cunt gush even more. He truly was using you like he owned you. His cockhead rubbed at the glob of saliva that was trailing down your cunt before he finally, finally pressed it against your entrance.

“I won’t last long, but I don’t care.” Toji said, rocking his hips lightly as he teased your hole, “You’re here to be my cum dump. You’re here for my pleasure, got it?”

You couldn’t help but he bratty even though every fibre of your being wanted to beg the man to just fuck you already: “Enjoy it since I’m winning this bet~” “Oh, are you sure about that?”

You frowned at his words before your eyes widened and you looked over at the clock to see that…it was midnight. November was officially over. And you had lost.

“That- ah!” you screamed loudly as Toji plunged his cock into you, his girth splitting apart your wet, velvet walls as he pushed into your cunt. He laughed as he got inside you, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he felt your pussy wrap around him, that sweet, amazing feeling of your walls squeezing him greedily. He grabbed your legs by the back of your knees before pushing them upto your chest, catching you in a mating press, driving his cock deep, deep inside you.

“Fuck! Fuck- fuck!” you squealed, the whiplash from realizing you lost to the sensation of your cunt being stuffed full for the first time in a month making your head spin, “I thought- you- fuck!” “Nice try baby.” Toji snarled, body trembling as he got to feel your cunt again, his balls already threatening to spill his seed inside you, “But you’re going to have to try harder- fuck yes- if you wanna beat me~”

He lifted his hips up and thrust into you again, both of you moaning as he stuffed his cock deep inside your delicious cunt. He started picking up the pace, the nasty sound of his balls clapping against your ass was music to his ears as he started using you. This was for him.

“You’re my toy now, understand?” he asked, tightening his hold on your legs and keeping you nice and folded for him, “my sweet little fuck toy that I’m going to use to break every. Single. Fucking. Night!” he thrust harshly at each word, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you felt his cock deliciously slide inside you, truly owning you. You hated to admit it, but you were secretly happy he won. As he pounded into you, you couldn’t help but remember how torturous this month was for you as well.

Sore pussy be damned, you were too addicted to Toji to give him up.

And while you swore you had more time before midnight struck, you were too cock drunk to think about it. Which was good for Toji as he thought ahead and might have changed the timing on the clock to make it a touch faster. But what you didn’t know wasn’t going to hurt you and by the time he was done with you, you’d forget how to count anyway.

#subby writes #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #toji x reader #toji smut #toji x you

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princessbrunette · 11 months ago

Note

asking rafe for a nutting vid? it's okay if you don't want to write tysm!

u r so real for this request !

☆🫖➛🎀*.☽

rafe was going away for a week, some business trip with his dad that he couldn’t get out of. naturally, you found a week to be a very long time — so the evening before he leaves, he’s at your place to spend some time with you. the time finally comes where he has to leave to go home, and you’re clinging onto him, teary eyed and pouty.

“you can survive a week, kid.” a smirks, squeezing your hips where the two of you stand in the dimly lit hallway infront of your front door, not wanting him to go just yet.

“its a long time… and you’re not a good texter. not even gonna get to talk to you much.” you huff, already finding problems with his plans to go away. he licks his lips, shaking his head as he stares off, cupping the back of your head affectionately as he thinks.

“well what do you want me to do, huh? not like i can back out of it. time will fly, you’ll barely notice i’m gone.” he shrugs, trying to be as reassuring as he can possible muster up. he was learning still, being a boyfriend wasn’t really second nature to him.

“buuuuut…” you look at the ceiling, trying to come up with another reason he should stay, moreso trying to keep the conversation going on for longer to delay him leaving. you stifle a giggle. “i’m going to be left unsatisfied. s’not very nice of you.”

“unfortunately, you are going to have to do some of the work for once n’get yourself off. think you can manage that?” he drawls, keeping his voice low as he holds you closely to him. if he hadn’t fucked you within an inch of your life earlier on to tide over your withdrawals for the week to come — you might’ve tried to initiate something right there and then to convince him.

“will you call and help me?” you bat your lashes, putty in his arms.

“gonna be with my dad 24/7. don’t think he’d… appreciate that.” he blinks and you slump. after a silence, he opens his mouth to speak — attempting to once again say goodbye for the sixth time before an idea strikes you and you interrupt.

“wait, rafey do you think you could…” you get shy on him, giggling and dropping your forehead to his chest. he draws back, shifting on his feet with a slight impatience.

“what? hm?”

you look up, a seriousness held in your gaze and you fiddle with his shirt button again. “could you… make me a video? to help me?” you smile and he thinks he’s being mocked so he sighs, lips pressed together petulantly.

“the hell do i look like to you, hm—”

“rafe please, just — just a video of you making yourself feel good… you know, the ending… with the sound on.” your voice is quiet, not quite knowing how he’ll take it. he lets out a long exhale through his mouth, shaking his head as he thinks before shrugging.

“alright— maybe, okay? i’ll— i’ll think about it. now can i get a kiss because i am leaving.” he puts his foot down, knowing you’ll keep finding reasons for him to stay.

you feel he has pretty much dismissed your request, so you dismiss it too— forgetting all about it as you sulk in bed that night, nighttime routine finally done as you prepare to go to sleep. infact, you’re literally about to put your phone down when your phone dings.

one attachment from rafe.

you open the message, but as soon as you do— your phone rings, the contact picture of him steering his boat flashing up on your screen.

“hello?”

“its done, alright — and you’re only getting one of these videos so i suggest you wait until you really need it to watch it. yeah?” his voice sounds through your phone and a grin spreads onto your face, realising what he’s talking about.

“oh thank you rafe!” you all but squeal and you practically feel him roll his eyes through the phone.

“yeah, yeah— and don’t let me find out you’ve shown that shit to any of your friends, okay? this is just for you.”

“of course not, rafey… do you want anything in return?”

“you send me any freaky shit when i’m with my dad and i’ll wring your neck when i get home. this is just — it’s just to get you through the week… because apparently you can’t live without dick.” he sighs tiredly, a tinge of amusement in his tone telling you he’s being lighthearted in his own fucked up way.

“thats your fault.” you giggle and he hums, the sound of sheets ruffling on his end.

“alright, gotta be up early so i’m gonna head to bed. be good, yeah? i’ll text you when the jet lands, you’ll probably just be waking up at that time.”

“okay rafey, night!”

you actually make it all the way to thursday without using the video. you were tempted — don’t get it twisted, but there was part of you that wanted to hold out, make yourself really need it before you reward yourself.

you find yourself home alone, missing rafe and horny — so you end up on your bed, finger hovering over the play button.

“alright, this is for you baby. don’t ever say i don’t do shit for you.” you hear him first as he adjusts his grip on his phone, using one hand to film his crotch and the other to pull down his boxers — hard, pretty cock springing out. his hand disappears off camera for a second, and returns with a glob of spit in his palm, smearing it all over as he starts to jerk off.

aside from sighs and moans, he’s quiet for the most part until closer to the end — his tip red and throbbing and he gets more desperate. “this kinda shit gets you off, huh? probably gonna hump that little hand like i caught you doin’ that one time. ‘was real cute, baby.” his voice is breathy and you can tell he’s practically talking himself through it, pushing himself closer to his orgasm.

he’s right, your hand is down your panties— rubbing your clit and spreading your thighs as you let out whimpers of your own. “fffuck. you — mm— you wish you were cummin’ on this right here, don’t you? yeah, leavin’ a mess. as usual.” he grits his teeth, stopping for a moment to grip the girth of it in his fist, letting a bead of precum slide down his knuckle.

“shit, you wanna see me cum don’t you baby. dirty fuckin’ girl — wanna see me blow this fuckin’ load for you, huh. oh shit.” he groans, bordering on a whimper before more moans and curses follow, dripping all down his hand before the video cuts off, your boyfriend catching his breath. you continue to rewind it, rewatching until you hit your own peak, whining and moaning his name despite his absence.

he’d had a busy day, so it was no surprise he hadn’t called — and you knew you’d get in trouble, but you send him a picture of your messy, drippy cunt afterwards anyway, simply captioning it ‘loved ur vid rafey <3’

he calls almost instantly, to tell you off.

☆🫖➛🎀*.☽

#anon #rafe cameron prompt

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sketchalicious · 1 year ago

Text

doomed au timeline thing? idrk

uhh okay so . i saw that the doomed au kinda popped off n i figured i'd go into a bit more depth for fun so i doodled out this crappy comic thing. i think i saw a homestuck comic do something similar LOL.

im gonna give like. aftermath of the ninja's deaths and such for the sake of clarity , since i know this is just an angsty clusterbump.

Kai: The real ignition for Lloyd's downfall. The staff was destroyed moments before the transformation ritual by the green ninja himself. In Lloyd's mind, his friend would return to normal. But he was met with something else as Kai desperately took the shards and ran away instead, too far gone into his ego and insanity. Returning home they remain the same in quantity, with Lloyd and Nya heartbroken, and Zane blaming himself.

Cole: He acted as the stable rock of the group. He brought the ninja back to their high spirits again, acting as a replacement flame for Kai to reunite his team. He even began the trend of looking for the missing ninja, with hope they were still out there. Yet despite being the very reason they stabilized, no one seemed to realize he disappeared. Instead they suddenly felt lost, like they were missing something. The grief returned, and the dots never connected.

Zane: His disappearance set the team on course for failure. With him, Asphera never explained where she had banished him, and the others were left to believe he was really, truly gone this time. He acted as the caretaker for the group, tying them together once more as he tried to bring back the joy they lost through menial tasks and the small details of the world. Even back to when Kai disappeared, Lloyd could be a leader with his help. With the last light in the tunnel gone, no one had any more confidence to step up.

Nya: Jay and Lloyd's breaking point. Without her, they lost their drive to keep searching. Her disappearance plays the same as canon, becoming one with the sea. Though she was less hesitant now, understanding that this was just fate, that the team wasn't meant to survive. If that was the case, she'll go out with a bang, knowing that with her gone they would understand too. At least she knew they would be safe for now.

Lloyd: His disappearance happened long after he recognized his Oni form. After having to fight the overlord alone, he went on a downwards spiral. Jay couldn't be there, and frankly, Wu couldn't get through to him like Garmadon did. Lloyd hated the idea of fate. He felt too, like Nya, that the team wasn't meant to last. As such, in his last effort to feel control, he caved into what came easy.

Pixal: Like Zane did in canon after Nya, she turned off her emotion meter. She knew some of the ninja could be saved, and she knew she had to stop grieving in order to even try. In a frustrated effort, she attempted to bring the ninja to her level, only to blame herself for Lloyd's snap. After realizing she couldn't do much for a grieving Jay, she leaves to find the others.

Jay: Who knows where he is. Wu entered his quarters to find only a pair of nunchaku, and his gi laying on his pillow. Maybe he joined Pixal, maybe he existed as a criminal like Lloyd now. All Wu knew is he lost his last student and the last defender of Ninjago. It's likely Jay quit, afraid of becoming next in fate's cruel hand. He'd only learn after the merge.

okay thats it lmao. i might add more ideas in the future but im not creative enough to plot it out properly gO NUTS

#i know the proportions are weird #im not even joking i drew every 'panel' with variations of tiredness #i know their legs are long #my hand is just quirky like that. mettaton core #ninjago #ninjago kai #ninjago zane #ninjago jay #ninjago cole #ninjago pixal #ninjago lloyd #ninjago doomed au #ninjago au #also. i wanna point out that jay has more significance in this au than im letting on haha i just dont feel like writing it really

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meow-xine · 2 months ago

Text

okay, one thing’s clear and that is that kirishima is obsessed with you in all the meanings of the word.

the biggest of these obsessions is just the dichotomy between the two of you. kiri is an absolute softie inside, but that doesn’t change his hard exterior— his skin, muscles, teeth, quirk, even his his sheer strength. and then there’s you, always the smoothest skin imaginable, he swears he could break you if he really wanted to.

don’t even get him started on your mouth.. aside from your plush skin, your thighs, your mouth takes the cake. he is enthralled with your velvet lips, and you find this out after only a few minutes into your fourth date.

“whatcha’ looking at?” you mutter, your voice a little muffled due to the ice cream you previously shoved in your face. “i guess im making a mess huh? i’m sor-“ you were cut off by kiri’s hand wrapped in a napkin, wiping the corner of your mouth. not a single person in the crowded parlor seemed to notice.

“don’t worry about that [name],” he smiled, “and that’s not why i was staring, swear. you just look really pretty right now.” his eyes trailed down your face, making their way to your lips after memorizing everything above.

“sorry! i got distracted, please—keep eating.” he shuffled, glancing around while scratching the back of his neck. the two of you continued small talk, mentioning everything from hero work to the mundanity of everyday life. the whole time, kiri couldn’t keep his eyes off of your spoon, gliding into your mouth topped with creamy ice cream dribbling down your chin every once in a while. you didn’t fail to subconsciously play with your spoon either, twisting in in your mouth slowly. it was driving him crazy, he wished so badly to be your spoon, to be the ice cream dripping down you, the thought of even touching you making sitting still unbearable. of course this was something you easily picked up on.

“is everything okay..? you’ve been acting a little weird, y’know you can always talking to me if something is up right?” you shot a concerned look, gaining a strained expression in return.

kiri’s thoughts seemed to be in conflict with his words, until finally he spoke, “[name] i’m really sorry for what i’m about to say.” he started, making your heart race in anticipation. “so, i like you a lot, and this whole time i’ve just been..distracted by you. there’s nothing i want more than to get out of here, or go to the car, or fuck- even the bathroom.” he motioned for you to come closer, you now positioned leaning over the table and leaving little room between the two of you. he leaned in, speaking in nothing above a whisper, “you’re driving me fucking nuts. please, i can’t take this.”

he backed up agonizingly slow, taking you in, his situation wasn’t getting any better by your big eyes slowly blinking back at him. “okay.”

he leaned further back in his chair, “okay?”

“okay.”

since then, not a month has gone by where you two didn’t have an ice cream date where you catch up on the mundanity of life

#kirishima eijirou #mha eijirou #mha #mha headcannons #bnha x reader #bnha #kirishima #kiri #eijirou #mha x reader #mha fic #bnha fic #kirishima x reader #eijirou x reader

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marieracingteam · 8 months ago

Text

A Flower to a Lilybug – ls.18

stepdad!Lance Stroll | series

word count: 1612

summary: The story of how Lance finally met Lily, or the story of how Lawrence became a flower before he became a grandpa.

Lily was just two years old when Lance met her mom, which meant that Lily wasn't really aware of all that was happening in her life.

She knew she had a mum and she knew, somewhere, she had a dad. Dad, however, was never around so she didn't really think much of him or his family, whom Lily had barely met. She also knew that mum had a mum and a dad who lived far away and she only saw once or twice a year and a few more times over the phone.

But that was pretty much all. For Lily, mum was her everything –and for the most part her only thing– for her whole short life.

That was until Lance came through.

Her mum and he had been talking for a whole year before she agreed to start calling their dates dates, but not before he met her daughter and she gave them their blessings.

Lance of course had accepted her pace, how could he not when he knew she was just protecting her daughter and herself after being betrayed by her last partner?

And because he knew how much she needed everything to be perfect, he tried extra hard to make everything perfect on that first day.

Maybe a little too hard.

He had spent long hours thinking about every single detail. He had even asked his father for help like he tended to do.

Maybe that is why he was so nervous when he first met Lily. The now three years old, in response, got also shy, probably sensing the grown-ups expectations.

“Hello Lily. I am Lance, mom’s friend. Mom has told me a lot about you and I wanted to meet you” he said while offering the girl his hand.

“Hi you!” she squealed before running back into the living room where she was playing with some dolls.

However, the dinner had gone more smoothly. At least at first. Lance had relaxed enough to make conversation with the little girl and Lily had quickly forgotten that she didn't know him when he started to ask her about the things she loved.

He had thought about gifting something to the little girl, but his father had told him to not buy the girl with expensive gifts. So instead he had learned to do paper dolls like Lily's mum had told him she loved to do.

Lily was so close to liking him when her mum started to breathe strangely.

“Peanuts” she screamed, grabbing her neck and making Lance run to where she always kept an EpiPen in her bag.

If he hadn't been so worried about the woman swelling up in his backseat, he would have probably been stressed about the crying little girl he had left with his father at home.

Because he loved his father, he truly loved the old men, but he could be scary and he knew he was bringing down his chances of winning the little girl’s heart by the second.

“Sorry, love. The bakery must have mix up the cakes. I don't know how that happened. I am so sorry. I told the man a thousand times to not put any nuts” Lance said again and again while he ran to the hospital.

The woman just laughed at the situation and when Lance looked at her through the rearview she was smiling. He didn't know then, but that was the first time someone had cared so much about her and her daughter.

And Lance didn't have anything to worry about, because back at home his father was doing all the hard work with Lily.

“So…” Lawrence said looking at the little girl who was sitting on the sofa eating ice cream “I heard you like doing paper dolls”

“Yeah” she answered, licking the spoon clean “And you?”

“Not my expertise, but I can see the charm in it”

Lily just looked up at him. When she had calmed down after the old man explained to her that her mom was fine but she needed a bandaid to be perfect, the girl had started to analyze the man.

Her mum had told her beforehand all about her friend and the get-together they were going to have that night, but she didn't expect any of that. Her mother had forgotten to tell her that after dessert they would run out and leave her alone at home with an unknown man.

Lily knew she was just a little girl, but wasn't that what her mother had told her not to do?

“You are weird, Flower” the girl finally said after deciding that she could trust the strange man with the funny name. If her mother trusted him enough to leave her in his care, who was she to not do it?

“Why is that?” Lawrence asked sitting beside her on the couch.

The girl just shrugged her shoulders. Her mother had taught her that it was wrong to say those things to people, especially older ones. The previous comment had slipped out of her mouth.

In her defense, Lily would say that Lance's dad was strange indeed. Lance too. Her mother's friend had sweaty hands and had dropped his spoon more times than she had. Plus, mom's friend's face turned red all the time. All the times her mom spoke at least.

But Lance's dad was even weirder. All his hair was white, all. Plus he was the oldest person Lily had ever seen, even older than Mom's friend from work who had just turned 40 recently and invited them to her party. The man was tall and was wearing a suit like on TV. Lily had never seen anyone on the streets of her town in Canada wearing one of those outfits beyond the movies.

Plus, Lance's dad had let her eat the ice cream straight out of the container to stop her from crying, which was weird, because her mom never let her do that. But she wasn't going to complain.

“And what is that Flower thing?” Lawrence asked finally.

“Your name, duh” Lily responded with the spoon still in her mouth.

See? Weird. The man had just said that was his name.

“My name is Lawrence” the man corrected.

“Florence,” she said back before making the connection “flower”.

The man laughed a deep laugh that reminded Lily of movie villains. And he looked like one. If he didn't have such a funny name, Lily probably would have been scared of him. “I am not a flower”

“You look like one” the girl responded, sure of her opinion.

“Why is that?” the man pressed, amused at the conversation.

“The white petals” she said pointing at his hair “Do you know how to braid?”

Lawrence laughed again. Lance had told him a lot about the woman he was meeting and had told him some things he was discovering about her daughter, but Lawrence did not expect the pleasant surprise that was meeting first the mother at a gala and then the girl, even if it was under those circumstances.

The mother was polite and affectionate with his son. Lawrence had been doubtful of her at first, as he always used to be when someone new came into their lifes. But at no time had she shown interest or asked for anything in exchange of her company like other used to do. If Lawrence was right, and he usually was, the only reason she was still with Lance was because she was really interested in his son.

And the girl. The girl had been a breath of fresh air.

It had been a long time since Lawrence last was around small children. His children were already grown and despite his insistence, his daughter had not yet made him a grandfather.

Even if the girl wasn't exactly Lance's, if everything went as his son expected that night, this wouldn't be the last time Lawrence would see the girl.

And, at that moment, he felt like it was in his power to help make everything happen that way, even if he himself had shown him his reluctance when he found out that the woman his son was with already had a daughter from a previous relationship.

“Yeah, I do. Do you want one braid?” he offered.

“No” she said still licking the empty spoon.

“Lance also knows how to braid. He is very good at it” lied the man. He didn't truly know why he was doing it but he guessed that he will need the extra help impressing the little girl after almost poisining her mom.

While waiting for her mom to come back, Lily decided the man wasn’t that bad anymore. And he was a flower after all. A flower who had ended up braiding her hair into smalls braids and had cut the paper dolls Lance had brought for her.

He was still a little weird and a little scary looking but he wasn't that bad.

And he was comfy. She had found that when she laid her braided head in his chest while playing with the dolls.

And! When her mom asks her tomorrow when she wakeds up on her own bed surrounded by all her plushies, she will say that the flower was a magician. Which was a pretty impressive story.

Even when she had swore she wasn't going to fall asleep until her mom came back, the flower had charm her into sleeping while rubbing her belly, like she did with her mom's friend's puppy.

She may not know a lot about old people or grandparents but the flower wasn't that bad himself. And maybe his son wasn't so bad either.

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #formula 1 #formula 1 fanfic #f1 angst #lance stroll #lance stroll x reader #lance stroll imagine #lance stroll fanfic #lance stroll fluff #ls18 x reader #ls18

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 2 years ago

Note

Listen, i have way more Peter Quill ideas if you’ll allow me-

Can we get one where the reader is super horny for Peter but she doesn’t really want to say anything because they keep getting interrupted by the other guardians (like Mantis, Rocket or Groot needing something) and it happens multiple times until the reader just pushes Peter aside and they start making out. 😂

It can be full smut or just end wherever you want it I’m not picky…but i wouldn’t turn down smut👀 it can also be gender neutral i don’t care, thanks Love! 💖

~Bear🐻

hii again sweetheart!! of course, send them in at anytime:) love love it, I was nice I wrote smut🤭 thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

storage room rendezvous

Peter Quill x f reader

wc || 1.3k

warnings || 18+ only sexually explicit content minors dni

masterlist + rules

taglist

Being confined to the Bowie during long-haul missions often meant there wasn't much space or privacy, never having the luxury of a moment's silence without getting interrupted by one of the other guardians. You and Peter had recently started dating, so the amount of need you had for him was unbearable. You wanted him all the time.

Rocket had to do an emergency landing on some random planet, twenty-something jump points away from Knowhere so he could tinker. So that left you and the rest of the crew stranded on the ship until the issue resolved.

Waltzing your way over to the front of the ship, hands cutely laced together as you joined Quill in the captain seat, sitting across his lap. "Whatcha doing?" you question, making yourself comfortable.

"Taking my seat before Rocket gets back," he chuckles, placing his hand on your thigh, adjusting you as he pulls you closer. "He ain't gonna like it," grinning at the thought. "What's up?" he asks, kissing your shoulder.

"Bored," you say slowly, your tone speckled with suggestion.

"Bored, huh?" he repeats, his tone matching yours. "What'd ya wanna do?" he asks, already knowing what you're thinking, waiting for you to admit it.

"I did have one idea..." you hint, lightly trailing down his chest. "Oh, god!" you jump, lowering your face to the nape of Peter's neck. "Don't do that."

"What?" Quill questions, his eyes concerned as he follows your initial gaze. "God, Drax. How long you been there?"

"Since we landed," Drax responds matter-of-factly, pulling a rustly bag from his pocket.

"That was an hour ago." You chime in, poking your head up to look at him.

Shrugging simply. "Yeah... Zarg-Nut?" He offers, shaking the bag between you both.

Quill extends his hand over the back of the seat, cupping his palm towards Drax. "What?" he chuckles at your displeased expression, shoving a handful of the dried snack into his mouth. "I'm hungry."

"You are unbelievable," you playfully scoff, avoiding his green eyes.

"Hi, guys." The soft voice of Mantis appears next to Drax. "Oh, can I have one?" She asks, nodding to the bag in his hand.

"They're all gone," Drax replies before pouring the contents into his mouth.

"I am Groot."

"Okay!" you say finally, clapping your hands together once. You loosen from Peter's grip as you stand up, lacing your hand into his as you lead him away from the group. "Come with me."

"Where we going?" Quill questions, following after you, his hand gripped into yours.

"Shut up," you whisper, leading him through the corridors as you search for a suitable storage room.

"You want me, don't ya?" he smugly asks, briskly walking to catch up with your long strides.

Poking your head through door gaps. "Yeah, now shut-up,"

He playfully chuckles, his tone full of assurance. "Knew it," snickering.

"Here's one," you mouth, dragging Peter into the empty room, forcefully shutting the door behind him.

You immediately attach your lips to his, ravenous and starved, desperately tugging at his t-shirt. He separates, his head hung low as he assesses your eyes. "Whoa, whoa, whoa... ain't even locked the door." He smirks, reaching behind to twist the lock.

Quill loved when you needed him, loved seeing you desperate. He loved when you were verbal, telling him what you wanted, but not right now. He wanted the control and leadership he craved.

He lightly trails his hand up your throat, grazing higher before cupping around your jaw, grasping the side of your face to bring you in. He instantly clashes his hungry mouth with yours, rolling and licking over your soft lips while his other hand travels behind your head to pull you closer. The need grows more urgent as his hands roam you, loosening the grip on your jaw to travel down to your throat. He holds it as he controls and deepens the kiss, pushing you back up and against the wall.

"What do you want?" he breathlessly asks against your lips, a wry grin looming.

"You," you shakily reply, snaking your hands around his back, gripping the hem of his tee.

"Yeah?" he softy whispers, entertaining you.

He slips his hand under your ass, cupping over the cheeks as he manhandles you, eagerly kneading the doughy flesh between his fingers.

Sliding his palms up, they rest and clasp around your waist, kissing you in desperation as he squeezes you, grinding his clothed groin into yours.

He picks you up, holding you under your thighs as he walks you over to the stacked storage containers in the corner, placing you down atop them. His fingers snake into your waistband, immediately palming over your wet pussy, teasing your clit as his spare hand slides into his waistband. Lightly gripping his hardened cock and pulling himself out of his pants, firmly stroking up the length.

You eagerly squirm out of your pants, letting them slide down your thighs and hang around your boots, draping from your ankles as you wrap your knees around his hips, bringing him closer. He yanks down his pants and boxers before sliding his tip through your folds, collecting your arousal around his shaft. "Fuck," he mutters at the contact, momentarily throwing his neck back.

He spits in his palm, rubbing the saliva over his veins to lube himself up as he adjusts you, bringing your hips forward. He pushes his head through your folds, slipping through the slick flesh as you both watch in anticipation. Needy whimpers fill the dingy room.

Gripping at his base, he eases into you. Slowly sliding his tip in as he attaches his mouth to yours, catching and muffling your initial moan. His hands graze up your back, holding you close as he sinks further into you, melting around his every inch. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, whining and mumbling against his warm skin as you adjust to his girth, clutching at his biceps. "Oh, God," muttering, his eyes screwing shut.

He kisses the side of your neck, lightly nibbling and suckling the skin as he slides in and out of you, moulding around him as he fucks into you. Completely filling you with every hasty wind of his hips, rolling into you as he chases after the high.

He grows desperate and demanding as he pushes into you. Massaging inside you, rubbing over your g-spot with the upper side of his cock, fucking into the areas you needed. He finally attaches his lips to yours, swallowing your open moans and whimpers as he groans into your mouth. Slipping in his tongue every once in a while.

You felt the overwhelming build of the high consume you, aimlessly whining against his lips as you felt yourself get closer. You convulse around him, sucking him in further in with every jolt.

"Can I come in you?" he shakily asks, resting his forehead against yours. "Please- fuck," he mutters, closing his eyes like he's holding himself off.

You eagerly nod, wrapping your legs tighter around him, crossing your ankles as you keep him glued to you. Desperately clawing at his back as you let go. Quill pulsates for the final time before spilling his load deep into you, senselessly whimpering in one another's mouth as you both reach your long-awaited release. The room full of hot shaky moans.

He gingerly drags himself from you, watching the connecting strings of his cum as he pulls out. He bends to the floor, pulling up his pants before doing the same with yours, holding your hand as he helps you down from the containers. Keeping you balanced, chuckling at your stumbly footing.

"I'll uh... I'll, um," you stutter, momentarily closing your eyes as you think of the words. "I'll join you out there in a few minutes... don't make it obvious," you grin, reaching up to kiss him tenderly, playfully slapping his ass as he turns away.

Turning around with a faux displeased expression, head cocking. "I'll tell 'em," he warns with a raised brow and boyish smirk. "Don't think I won't..." teasing you.

Grinning with raised hands as if to symbolise your innocence. "I'll see you in two minutes... Quial."

#peter quill #peter quill x female reader #peter quill x reader #peter quill x you #peter quill x fem!reader #star lord #star lord x reader #starlord x you #starlord x reader #guardians of the galaxy #gotg fanfiction #gotg #peter quill fanfiction #peter quill fanfic #peter quill imagines #peter quill smut

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kryannoy · 1 year ago

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you're so calm. you're only feral when you're fighting and . . . y'know

DAY 4 | OCTOBER 14 | PUBLIC SEX

genre: nsfw, smut character: dom!megumi x sub!reader summary: doing the deed outside and almost getting caught warnings: public sex, brat taming, cockstepping, unprotected sex, degradation (use of slut), exhibitionism

He never thought shoving his cock into you outside the house would ever cross his mind, nor even cross off his checklist. Never did you, but it did. You can thank yourself for this.

All you wanted to do was rile him up so he can slam you to a wall as soon as you guys got home but you didn't think he wouldn't wait. He's always been patient so you intended it as a joke.

But yes, now is not a joke anymore with him deep inside your hole in an alley that you're pretty sure passersby can watch the show you guys are putting on.

In a restaurant, you accidently brushed your feet to his crotch when you were adjusting your position. And his reaction did not go unnoticed in your eyes. Your devilish smirk is hidden as your feet crawls up his shin to his thigh. He smacked you away with a glaring look, telling you to behave. But of course you don't listen. You continue rubbing his cock under the table and he's trying his best to keep in his moans, only having to fake cough for coverup. His blush was noticeable, though. His hands flailing to make you stop and his eyes sending death glares. However, all of that went over your head, thinking that he won't do such things in public so you have to wait at home.

After dinner, instead of making your way to both of your car, Megumi pulled you in the alleyway next to the restaurant. The thing is, it's a one way window glass--you can see the people inside but they can't see the outside.

"You wanted to act like slut, huh? Well, I'll treat you like one. Don't worry." His pants are down and your dress is hiked up to your hips. Your panties are long gone in his pocket. He maneuvered you to the window, bending you down ass up, tits and face pressed up against the cold glass. He gives you a loud smack on your ass and aligned his cock to your pussy. You moaned out from the sudden stretch with no prep.

"Oh, you really want the customers to know, huh? You love that, don't you?" He hisses when he feels your walls clench around him from his dirty talks. His hips started thrusting, pounding into your wet, sopping cunt. His grip on your hips will surely leave a mark. If you gave him no chance to contain his dignity just now, then he will do the same.

Not even two minutes have passed and you're already creaming on his raging cock. Somehow you couldn't control your voice, forgetting that you're out in the open. The two customers that was close to the two of spin their head into your direction. You weren't sure if they heard you or not. But after awhile, their turn back to their food.

Megumi lets out a low groan as he also bust his nut inside you. He didn't stop there, oh no. He wants to tease you like you did. He pounded his dick into you so hard you jolted into the glass. Then, he waits a little before doing it again. Waiting and pounding, waiting and pounding. Your moans accompanying each thrust, getting higher and higher. The same two customers look back to both of your direction again and you shut your mouth this time. Whimpers only coming out. Megumi leans in to you and whispered in your ear.

"They're watching you and here you are with my pussy clenching down my cock? You want me to fuck you again, you little horny bastard? C'mon, let's give them some entertainment."

He starts picking up his pace, his pelvis smacking into your ass, giving you spanks at a time. His fingers crawl up to you lips, forcing them open so you can be loud. At this point, you're pretty his shyness and usual timid self has thrown to who-knows-where and you kind of not complaining. You were the one who brought this upon yourself.

The customer has called a waiter to come check the mysterious noise near them, which the waiter obeyed the orders and approach your direction. You lifted yourself off the glass so you won't be seen if looked closely. However, Megumi notices your intention and pushed you back to the glass. This time caging you so you have no way to move around. His head is buried into your neck, biting it to only contain his voice while yours and still forced open with his fingers shoved down your throat. You met the waiter's eyes and you couldn't help to cum for the second time on his cock.

"You dirty slut," he coos before smacking your ass from your naughtiness.

Thankfully, the waiter turned back around and shook his head to the customer. You both assume it was nothing and he only came to 'check' the noise just to satisfy the customer needs. You sigh in relief as Megumi came again in your pussy. He groans out as he removed himself from you. Your hole now dripping with white cum in huge globs. You hear him growl from behind you as he shoved back his cum into you with his fingers so it wouldn't drip again when you walk to your car or staining the seat of his car because he won't be giving you your panties back.

#kinktober 2023 #jjk smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #megumi smut #megumi #fushiguro smut #fushiguro #fushiguro megumi #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi x reader

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inthebitterwatchesofthenight · 3 months ago

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Five and Lila (nonromantic) subway headcanons

Like everyone I really hated the Five x Lila storyline and the butchered potential of their almost-sibling relationship development.

But one thing that really ticked me, and that I haven't really read about yet, is: that timeskip montage looks like 3 weeks, maybe 2 months at best, not SIX FUCKING YEARS. In six years, people visibly age, especially under duress, if, for example, the only thing they can eat is rats?? (I'm not even talking about how they managed to keep roughly the same clothes and haircuts for six years without any explanation, or how they miraculously cleaned up before going back to Diego and Lila's precisely at the right point in time...) In six years alone with another person, you would probably struggle keeping your sanity, and the end result for each of them would probably look something like early stages of Apocalypse S1 Five. In six years alone with another person, even with prior attraction (which would already be ooc for both of them but whatever let's just grant them that for the sake of the argument), you would end up HATING each other all the way through your codependent relationship. I could see them having sex after six months (still following those creepy-ass ooc assumptions), but I could certainly NOT see them kissing softly and romantically wine-dining after SIX YEARS (the time those goddamn showrunners told us it took for passion to die down in a perfect marriage?? How about helltrap subway then??)

So after that really long preamble, here are my headcanons for what that subway section should really have looked like:

No Five x Lila, obviously

They bicker all the time; this escalates into outright fights. At some point, Lila storms off somewhere and they lose each other for five months.

When they realise they're not going home anytime soon, Five finds a timeline with a Dolores (other than the original one) and steals her away, because he's going to need her to cope through this. (Of course, he needs to apologize to her for being gone this long.)

At first, Lila thinks that Five is nuts for talking to Dolores, but in a matter of days she understands the urge and Dolores becomes her best friend. Five and Lila fight over Dolores's approval all. the. time.

Lila collects little trinkets to bring home to Grace and the twins (like the plushies in New Grumpson). After two years the gift bag has got way too big and Five helps her sort out the ones she really wants to keep; she bawls her eyes out and they arrange the throwaway gifts neatly on a bench, just in case they can come back and get them.

They find some really weird and fun timelines. Don't care what, they just do. Lila almost gets killed trying to bring home a souvenir.

Five and Lila find Max's Delicatessen together. By the way, there's a few Lilas there, ones that also met Fives. Lila can vent about her relationship trouble Diego with another Lila who has also married a Diego. But the other Diego is dead, and Lila realizes just how much she wants to get home before that happens.

This is a bit irrelevant, but that Five deli paradox psychosis plothole is explained by a random artefact created by Commission Five (like in his room in S3 I think?).

Five and Lila wait a short while in the deli to make a plan about the apocalypse. Another Five arrives, finds out about the marigold, and says out loud that the solution would be to erase all Hargreeves siblings from existence. A few seconds of silence, and then all the other Fives slaughter him because what kind of Five would to this to their family???? This is also one of the purposes of the deli, by the way. To make sure no Five comes out of the subway with delirious, dangerous ideas about harming their siblings.

Five and Lila realise that if Viktor can take away the marigold from people like Harlan, then he can take it away from his siblings. And what about Viktor himself? Well, Lila can mimic his powers and they can take away each other's marigold at the same time, and lose their powers just as they're done. Darn, why didn't they think of this sooner?

Lila tries to relook Five. After four or five years, he gives in, sees the end result and immediately finds a timeline with a suit to steal so as to fix this freakish mistake. He wears a hat for a while to try and hide his undercut hair.

Lila sings a lot. Five lets her, and just mumbles about her lousy tastes in music to Dolores.

Lila adopts a monstrous pet (three-headed cat? Giant bee?) for a few stops, and it mysteriously disappears at some point. Major fight ensues. Maybe this is why she leaves for a while.

In another timeline, they briefly meet a version of Diego that's not dead yet. He tries to kill them, Lila tells him that he's a great dad, he's weirded out and runs away.

Five picks up littered newspaper to see if there's anything interesting. He becomes a crossword addict. He moves to a new special interest puzzle game every few months.

After a fight, Five's big making-up strategy is to sit down next to Lila and start talking shit about the Handler. It kinda works.

I'm gonna stop here, this is already way too long. Please share your own headcanons if you have any!

#the umbrella academy #umbrella acedmy #tua s4 #tua #tua spoilers #tua five #number five #five hargreeves #lila pitts #brisket five #tua4 #we were robbed

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zg0nuwa · 2 years ago

Note

Hey, hope you're fine...and i see that you're another fan for Miguel (we are) can you write the father day with his daughter and the reader as his wife please:(?....(i just hate my daddy issues)

★ best dad ever ! ⎯⎯

i don't think you understand how much power you just gave me with this (i had like half of this written already but tumblr crashed and i was one step away from going into my joker era)

miguel o'hara x wife!reader

warnings ; angsty fluff, i tried experimenting with the spanish but i feel like i failed miserably, lowercase intended, i'm not a spanish speaker so you're free to correct me on the spanish.

miguels work schedule was very unstable. there were times when he would be gone for the whole day and then there were times when he could spend most of the day at home. you understood, for the most part, he had the multiverse on his shoulders no matter how hard you wished for him to have a much less dangerous job. of course not everyone knew why he sometimes had to disappear for long periods of time.

and one of them was your daughter. all she knew was that " daddy does very important things and he has to go but he will always come back ".

this year, fathers day rolled up on a sunday which meant not only your daughter was home but also you. for your husband it was a little more complicated. he woke up in the middle of the night to a notification from lyla about another anomaly going nuts in the wrong universe. you loved the ai but in this particular moment you wanted to explode her with your mind.

" i'll be back before sunset, i promise " with that and a kiss on your forehead he left through the portal in your bedroom.

the next time you woke up that day was because of your daughter. she climbed onto your bed and started to shake you lightly with her small hands.

" mom? where’s daddy? " you opened your eyes to gabi hovering above you with her favorite plush animal pressed close to her chest. she had this disappointed expression on her small face. you knew it was because of miguel being gone. she planned this whole day for him, you even helped her organize everything.

" i’m sorry sweetheart… daddy had to go to work. " you pulled her in so her head was under your chin. she clung to you like a small koala bear as you played with her thick brown hair. definitely his genes.

" but, he promised he'll be back before your bedtime sooo, we can still make something special. what do you say about that? "

after a small argument about who gets the cooking part of preparations, which obviously ended with you being responsible for it, you and gabi got to work. as you were looking through your old mexican cuisine recipe book [ that you definitely didn’t bought only for miguel to feel more at home during meals ] you saw your dughter holding a box of artsy stuff.

" cariño, ¿qué estás haciendo allí? "

" making daddy a poster! it's going to say 'el mejor papa de todos'! " you couldn't help the big smile from appearing on your face. you knew how much time miguel put into teaching gabi spanish and it always warmed your heart when they sat down at the dining table and simply talked in spanish, your husband making little corrections in pronounciation or grammar from time to time. but no matter what he always looked as if he had hearts in his eyes.

★

you knew miguels work schedule was unstable and sometimes took him out of the house for a whole day, and you understood. but gabi not so much. so here you are, 10:48 pm on the clock and no sign of your husband. you spent the past two hours comforting her and promising her that it wasn't miguels fault and that he loved her. finally at around 11 pm she fell asleep in her bed. you turned off the cat shaped nightlamp and as quietly as possible closed the door to her room.

with a heavy sigh you went back to the kitchen to start cleaning everything up. while puting away food into the fridge you heard a specific glitching sound and you already knew who showed up home.

" you're late. " you weren't really mad at him , it was just tiring sometimes.

" i know, i'm sorry love... it's just - things got a little out of control. " you didn’t look at him and his first thought was to come behind you and hug your waist hoping it would make you feel even a little bit better. “ was there something that i forgot about today? is that why you’re angry? “

" i’m not angry, but your daughter is. she planned the whole fathers day for you. "

" ay, coño… " he sounded defeated, tired, and disappointed in himself. you pulled yourself away from him and came up to the poster gabi made, its was rolled in a tube to not spoil anything before the big reveal. you handed it to miguel with a tiny smile on your face. he was a bit confused for a second but he got the memo and rolled out the paper to it’s full extent. you could see the tears forming on his waterline as he chuckled. probably because of the spelling mistake made by gabi that you didn’t have the heart to point out.

" me and gabi made a deal for you, you have take us to the zoo tomorrow, and she demands that you let her piggyback the entire time to repay for your sins. "

" i guess there’s no other option. " he said with a smile.

cariño, ¿qué estás haciendo allí? - honey, what are you doing there?

el mejor papa de todos - the greatest dad ever

ay, coño - oh, fuck

#atsv miguel #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman atsv

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weirdgenetic-fuckup · 7 months ago

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No Nut November

A/n: Did anyone ask for this? No, will I still rewrite this because I didn't like this the first time and came up with what I think is a better trope? Yes. I only meant to make Guns N' Roses and I panicked when people asked for Metallica but I don't want to come out bad so I hope people like this version better than the first :'3

Link to the original

Kirk Lars James Cliff

Metallica was making a new album but they'd barely worked on it at all and it was getting closer and closer to the date they'd set for it to come out, normally they'd just push it back but they'd already done that twice.

Their manager decided to stick them in a house together, thinking if they didn't have a moment apart they'd actually get work done.

You were their managers daughter and were definitely a fan, when you heard he would be moving in with them you had to come up with an excuse to move with him, you knew he couldn't say no to you with a good enough reason.

You were going to University and you said since it was almost summer break you wanted to visit him so you'd be coming down once school was out.

He hesitated, not wanting your summer to be spent in such an environment, but eventually let you because he'd found a place where you could have your own room. He wanted to let you have your privacy.

You couldn't be more thrilled.

And so, you packed up your clothes and some other essentials, said goodbye to your roommates, you had a flat off campus, and made a quick road trip down to L.A. where your dad was staying with the one and only Metallica.

Your dad welcomed you with open arms and gave you a tour of the house, showing you to your room so you could drop your bags before he introduced you to the guys.

They were all sitting in the living room in the back of the house, there was a wall of windows with a matching glass door leading out to the backyard, a beautiful green lawn with an underground pool all of it fenced in and overlooking a cliff. It was gorgeous but you were more focused on the four men all ogling you as you came down the stairs with their manager.

"I thought you said you were bringing your daughter?" The short one asked, you of course knew him as Lars Ulrich, the drummer.

You dad nodded. "Yeah, this is my daughter, Y/n." He said, gesturing to you. You gave a small wave, biting your lip to prevent the ear to ear grin that was waiting to break out.

"By daughter you meant, like, grown woman?" The blond, James, asked.

"Yeah, it's summer vacation and she wanted to spend some time with dad before she had to go back to University." He explained. They all took in his words, exchanging whispers.

The phone rang, a landline on a table not far from you. Your dad answered it, uttering a few words before he set it down. "Right, I gotta go, all of you be nice." He said, giving you a quick hug and apologizing for having to leave so soon.

He left and you waved the boys goodbye before heading upstairs to unpack some more.

They waited until they heard your door close before they started talking. "Jesus, who would've guessed." Kirk asked, keeping his voice low just to be sure you couldn't hear.

"Who the fuck cares, what the hell do we do?" James asked, keeping his eyes on the stairs where you'd just gone.

"Fuck do you mean 'what do we do'? What do you think we do?" Lars whisper yelled, looking like he just wanted to slap him.

"We can't fuck the managers daughter." Cliff said, fumbling with his hands in his lap.

They kept discussing it, all agreeing that nothing could happen.

Then you came back downstairs in a bikini, holding a towel and a bottle of sunscreen, ready to sit by the pool. You didn't look at them as you walked past but you could feel all their eyes on you as you swayed your hips.

"Twenty bucks goes to whoever can last the longest." James blurted, still watching you through the windows as you rubbed sunscreen up your arms.

And thus the bet began, whoever could last the longest without giving into temptation got twenty bucks, the four men throwing down five dollars each.

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projectionistwrites · 2 years ago

Note

moonboys and a reader who maladaptive daydreams?

hi, nonnie! thank you for this request, you must’ve seen my blog description haha. this is my first fic request which is very exciting! my inbox is always open so if you’d like to request something, i’d appreciate it. :) anyway, i hope you like it!

IMPLODING THE MIRAGE

Moon Knight x afab!reader (primarily Marc Spector) (10.6k+)

You’ve been escaping into yourself more and more often, and the boys are starting to notice. How are you supposed to explain to them that you don’t want to live in the moment, when the version of your life inside your head is so much better than reality on the outside?

RATING: EXPLICIT (18+, mdni) WARNINGS: maladaptive daydreaming, insecure reader & negative perceptions of self, depictions of injury & violence, kidnapping, miscommunication, SMUT (inappropriate fantasizing, unprotected p in v sex, cum eating, dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics if you squint)

imploding the mirage — the killers

i had to do it, i had no other choice you’ve got to listen to the inside voice a bullet train will get you there fast but it won’t guarantee a long last sometimes it takes a little bit of courage and doubt to push your boundaries out beyond your imagining

He was the moon, and she was the stars.

It was serendipitous, how the couple had come to fall in love throughout the course of their divine adventures alongside each other—two servants to a pair of primordial Egyptian deities, serving as Avatars to protect those who could not protect themselves. She’d met him at a meeting of the Ennead, when he’d been called upon to answer for his actions against a human named Arthur Harrow, who was accused of attempting to raise Ammit from eternal isolation.

The trial hadn’t gone well, and certainly hadn’t worked in his favor, but her goddess protector had a soft spot for Khonshu, the God of the Moon—after all, he was the reason she had been given five extra days with which to bear her five children.

So her Avatar was secretly assigned to keep watch over the Moon Knight, to aid in his fight to keep Ammit contained and offer her services should he need them.

He was resistant at first, but Khonshu insisted that having Nut as an ally could only serve to benefit them in their journey—after all, she was the sky, and without her, the Moon could not rise.

Marc Spector and his alters didn't anticipate becoming so infatuated with the soft curve of her Avatar’s smile or the cosmos she seemed to hold within her eyes. But as time passed, they grew closer, and when she saved him again and again, the navy blue of her armor shimmering with glowing silver emblems of stars, he felt as if his soul was tethered to her. It seemed to be fate, as clear as a constellation, that their lives were somehow intertwined and their happenstance meeting was actually the result of some unseen gravitational pull, guiding them through the darkness until they found solace in one another.

He heard her sandal-clad feet softly hit the solid ground, her body drifting down from the sky to land beside him after her short flight in the air. He turned to look at her—the flowing robes of her ceremonial armor billowed in the evening breeze, her hair pulled back intricately with thin glittering bands of silver, adorned with five-pointed stars that captured the moonlight in her curls. She was ethereal, heavenly, celestial, and when she turned and smiled at him, he swore the planets aligned in some brief moment of rapture.

“Where to next, Moon Boy?”

She teased lightly, her nose crinkling with amusement. His hands twitched at his sides, unable to control the movement of his arm as it reached for her hand.

He heard Khonshu chuckle deeply from somewhere behind him, condescending and slightly mocking. Still, he always spoke kinder about the woman beside him than any other being on this Earth.

“I should’ve known you would become enamored with the little star. Nut always finds a way to reunite the beings of the night sky.”

Marc ignored him—he was too enthralled by the way her breath hitched in her throat at the feeling of his fingers brushing her own, the hood and mask of his armor receding to reveal the tenderness of his gaze. He turned to face her, his other gloved hand reaching to cradle the side of her jaw. He watched as her gaze flickered down to his lips, and he smiled.

“Anywhere, as long as it’s with you.”

He leaned forward to capture her lips with his own, swallowing her contented sigh as she melted into his touch—

“Jesus Christ!”

You nearly toppled forward when Marc abruptly yanked his arm away from you, his face contorted into a look of pain. You blinked once, then twice, eyes clearing to focus in on the blood staining your hands and the curved needle that was pinched tightly between your forefinger and thumb.

“The fuck was that? Are you even paying attention to what you’re doing?”

Marc hissed at you, cradling his injured forearm to his chest, gritting his teeth as your eyes widened in realization.

“Shit, shit, I’m sorry, Marc, I zoned out, here, just let me see—”

“Forget it, I’ll just do it myself.”

He snatched the suture from your hand and laid his arm back on the marbled countertop of your bathroom sink, giving you a clear view of the mistake you’d made—you’d laid the stitch nearly a full inch from where the edge of the gaping incision had started, sinking it into completely uninjured, healthy skin.

“Marc, stop, I’ll do it.”

You stopped him before he could hurt himself even more—he never had the patience to treat his wounds properly, but for ones that were this deep, it was smarter to close them by hand than wait several hours for his magical suit to heal it on its own.

He grunted in protest, but nonetheless allowed you to retrieve the needle from his hold and lean over his arm, tongue pinched between your teeth in concentration.

You were much more careful, this time, deliberate with each pull of the thread beneath his skin, finishing sewing shut the injury quickly. When you’d finally finished, you leaned forward to bite the end of the stitch and tear it away with your teeth. You reached for a piece of gauze, pouring a generous amount of saline solution onto the cloth in order to blot the excess blood from his skin.

You could feel his eyes on you the whole time, burning into your skull as if he was trying to read your mind. You sulked.

“I said I was sorry, Marc, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Your words were soft, and he could hear the guilt that was churning in your stomach. He didn’t flinch when you began dabbing at the drying blood around the wound.

“S’fine. But—what happened? It’s like—you just tapped out for a second, there. Did you even hear what I was saying to you?”

You frowned.

“No, I’m sorry. I just—got lost in thought.”

“Hell of a time for that to happen.”

He chuckled in an attempt to lighten the mood, but you didn’t laugh. Your eyes were still fixed on the skin of his arm, even though you’d successfully wiped away most of the remaining blood.

“I was just saying that—that I appreciate that you’re willing to do this for me.”

Your eyes darted to his face, surprised at the vulnerability he was displaying by expressing his gratitude.

“I mean—I never figured that when I’d stumbled onto your balcony all those months ago, beaten to all hell, that I’d meet someone who was willing to patch me up over and over again. Well—at least, before you stabbed me with a needle.”

Your eyes fell again, cheeks reddening at his jab. But he just laughed warmly, lifting his arm to rest his hand on your shoulder. Your bristled beneath his fingers, although his touch was nothing more than a friendly expression of appreciation.

“I’m just teasing you. But either way—just wanted to say thanks. Steven told me that I don’t say it enough, so...”

Now you laughed. It was more of a scoff, really, accompanied by the roll of your eyes as you reached for the knobs on the faucet, rinsing the blood from your fingers.

“Of course Steven made you.”

A lopsided grin found its way onto his face, and when you looked at him again, there was a twinkle in his eye. Your breath stuttered in your throat as you gazed at him—ebony curls spilling messily against his forehead, his lips quirked upwards at the corners, the fondness that was lingering beneath his brown irises. Was it possible? Could he really care about you the way you cared for him?

You turned away, standing and exiting the bathroom quickly before you could make a fool of yourself, face heating up at your own naïveté. Of course he didn’t feel that way about you. You were just—you. Only in the sanctuary of your imagination would he ever look at you and see anything beyond just a nurse playmate, or even maybe a friend.

You heard his heavy footsteps follow you back into your flat, where you wandered into the kitchen and retrieved a couple glasses.

“Do you mind if I—”

“Spare bed’s already made, I washed the sheets since last time you bled all over them and didn’t even tell me.”

You turned on the tap to fill the two cups with water. You were certain Marc hadn’t remembered to drink anything since his most recent escapade as a masked vigilante, and being around him always tended to make your mouth run dry.

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

You slid the glass of water across the countertop towards him, leaning back against the kitchen island to sip at your own. You watched him above the rim of your glass—the way his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he took a large swig of the cool liquid, the way a stray droplet of water dribbled down his chin when he pulled the glass back, the way his hand came to wipe it away, the plush of his bottom lip supple beneath the swipe of his fingers.

She fell back against the mattress, breath temporarily stolen from her lungs as she felt the heat of his lips hungrily mouthing at any exposed skin it could reach—her jawline, her neck, her collarbone, the swell of her breasts. A soft whine fell from her mouth and Marc swiftly lifted himself back to her face to swallow the sound, tongue sinking into her mouth to taste her.

Her fingers clawed at the fabric of his t-shirt, twisting and yanking him impossibly closer, legs lifting to wrap around his waist to press the heat of her core against the growing tent in his pants. A low groan escaped his chest as he rutted against her, pulling back to take stock of the hazy fog of lust that clouded her eyes and the O-shape of her lips as she let out a shaky exhale.

“Fuck, Marc.”

She whispered, arms wrapping tightly around his shoulders, fingers digging into his shoulderblades.

“Want you—need you so bad.”

“You’re doing it again.”

You blinked once, then twice, finding Marc's dark gaze staring straight at you as his voice pulled you back to reality. Your brows lifted in horror when you realized you’d shamelessly been ogling at him, too engrossed in your thoughts to notice how long you’d been standing there.

“Shit, I—sorry.”

You rubbed at your eyes with your fingers, hoping that maybe if you pressed hard enough, the image of Marc’s body hovering above you would erase itself from your mind. It didn’t work.

You heard the clank of his now-empty glass as he set it down on the granite countertop, his arms crossing over his chest.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s wrong?”

You should be used to the rush of heat to your face by now—just being in Marc’s company caused you to blush uncontrollably, but still, the discomfort of your ruddy cheeks made your pulse quicken. Your gaze flickered down to your feet, eyes meeting the stupid fucking bunny slippers that you wore to accompany your fleece pajama bottoms. Fucking embarrassing.

“It’s nothing, Marc.”

You whispered quietly in response, although nausea was beginning to settle in the pit of your stomach. You were out of control—this man was driving you insane.

He studied you for a moment longer, eyes narrowed in suspicion, but when you didn’t look back up at him, he just sighed.

“Okay. I’ll just—leave you alone, then. Goodnight.”

There were tears pricking the back of your eyes. You wanted to ask him to stay, to come share your bed instead of the one in your guest room, to kiss his stupidly handsome face.

“Towels are folded in the bathroom for you, and there’s clothes in the wardrobe if you want to change.”

You said instead, turning to refill your glass of water in the sink behind you. If he heard you, he didn’t respond—you listened to his footsteps disappear down the hall before the door to the guest bedroom creaked shut with a quiet click. Your shoulders immediately slumped forward, eyes squeezed shut tightly in an effort to combat the desperate urge to break down.

Her eyes were full of detestation as she glared down at him, nostrils flared with rage. He wanted to shrink beneath her disapproval.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?”

The woman started, and in spite of her towering figure looking down at him, he couldn’t help but gawk at the way the moonlight framed her, her silhouette outlined by the subtle glow of the night sky behind her. She offered him a hand and he took it, allowing her to yank him to his feet without an ounce of gentleness.

“You’re lucky I was here, Lockley, or things would’ve ended differently.”

She hissed, dusting herself off as if to showcase the strenuous effort she had put into saving his ass. He scowled behind his mask, the blood from the wound on his forearm beginning to soak through the bandages of his suit, tingeing the cream-colored fabric a dark crimson.

“I don’t need your help, estrellita. I was handling it.”

She scoffed as he turned on his heel to stomp away, crossing her arms tightly over her chest.

“Yeah, sure looked like you were handling it—why didn’t you call me? Nut had to drag me out of bed so you didn’t get yourself killed. Didn’t the old bird tell you we were together on this?”

He scowled, eyes narrowed in contempt.

“Yeah, he did, and I said no. We are not partners. We’re hardly even friends.”

He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, the way her face fell and her brows creased causing a pang of guilt to stab through his already-sore chest. He sighed.

“Estrellita, I didn’t mean—”

“Why do you push me away?”

She interrupted, and Jake was taken aback by the question.

“What do you mean?”

“You need me, Jake. We need each other. I’m just—I just want to help you, why won’t you let me help you?”

He didn’t respond, just stared at her as her eyes flooded with tears. At his silence, she shook her head, turning away to stare up into the star-filled sky.

“We’re supposed to be a team, Moon Knight. The stars and the moon—you can’t have one without the other.”

He could see the reflection of the crescent-shaped moon in her glassy eyes, the soft glow painting her face with silvery beams of light.

You’d left the balcony door wide open—your routine was fairly habitual, now. A mug of warm tea was cradled in your fingers as you curled up in the wicker chair, eyes flitting across the scattered stars that were visible from your tiny apartment complex.

You watched him sit down beside you in your periphery, the movement to your left pulling you from your reverie. He reached for the glass of bourbon you'd set out on the table in front of him.

You sat in silence for awhile, finding comfort in the man’s quiet presence. You liked that about Jake—you never felt like you had to fill the air with meaningless conversation. He was perfectly content to just enjoy your company, the same as you enjoyed his.

You heard the ice in his glass clink against the side as he took a sip.

“Are you going to tell them?”

Neither of you looked at each other when he spoke—the question was spoken out into the world, not really directed towards you, although you knew what he meant.

Jake was too fucking perceptive for his own good. Even when he was silent, he was always there, watching, listening, observing—even if the other alters were oblivious to the yearning that was thinly veiled within your eyes, he certainly wasn’t. You sighed.

“No.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, but something about his lack of verbal response bothered you, itching at the back of your brain. You turned to scowl at him.

“What?”

Jake hardly spared you a glance, barely quirking a brow at your emotionally-charged reaction as he shook his head.

“Nothing. I didn’t say anything.”

“Exactly.”

You glared, fingers anxiously tapping at the rim of your mug. The contours of Jake’s face were sharp in the dim light of the moon, features accentuated by the shadows. He finally turned to look at you.

“You know what I think, nena. You’re only hurting yourself. And your constant...daydreaming. It’s not as subtle as it once was. You—You should talk to them. Or me.”

The last bit of his proposal caught you off guard. His eyes had already drifted elsewhere when he said it, staring into his half-empty glass of liquor, but your brows lifted in surprise.

“I—you?”

He glowered playfully.

“Don’t sound so surprised, nena. I always listen to you.”

That was true. Some of your fondest memories with Jake were of late nights spent out on your balcony, getting drunk on cheap wine and sharing stories.

“Yeah, you’re good at listening, but not so much the talking part.”

Jake shrugged, although he nodded in understanding. He was all too aware of his own weaknesses.

You took a sip of your chamomile tea, letting its warmth combat the chill of the evening air.

“Why won’t you tell me?”

You asked quietly, and even without elaborating, Jake knew what you were referring to. He sighed, tossing back the last of his bourbon before setting it on the small table between you, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

“I’ve told you before. It’s not my place. I know what they think, but not what they feel.”

You huffed quietly, although deep down, you knew he was right. It wasn’t his place to share how Marc or Steven felt about you. You sort of admired the way he was so strict in his moral obligations—especially considering the lengths you were willing to go in order to change his mind.

Jake stiffened when he felt your hand rest on his bicep, fingers wrapping around it and squeezing lightly.

“But what about how you feel?”

His jaw rippled, and you felt the muscle beneath your fingers tense at your coy words. You could feel the restraint within him as he sat up abruptly, pulling away so his arm fell from your grasp. He still didn’t look at you.

“It doesn’t matter how I feel, nena. Not until you talk to Marc. He—you were his first. I’m not going jeopardize your relationship with him until he knows the truth.”

Anger flared within you.

“I’m not his. I don’t belong to anyone. My choices are my own.”

Jake flinched, eyes softening as they flickered over to you.

“You’re right, I’m sorry—I didn’t mean it like that. I just—you have to understand. He—I can’t go behind his back like this. Yo no sería capaz de vivir conmigo mismo.”

“But you can’t even tell me if he feels the same way?”

You asked, and he could hear the pain in your voice as your tone wavered slightly. You’d had this conversation many times before, but things had been escalating recently—perhaps because it was getting increasingly difficult for you to be content in the reality you lived in.

Jake’s eyes were full of sympathy as he regarded you.

“No, nena. I’m sorry.”

You turned away.

“But you need to tell him. And Steven, too. They deserve to know. And so do you.”

You heard his weight shift as he stood to head back to bed, having spent too much time keeping the body awake—he didn’t want his alters to grow suspicious at the exhaustion when they woke in the morning.

“What if he breaks my heart?”

He paused in the threshold on the doorway, glancing back at you when he heard the thickness in your throat as your eyes welled with tears.

“What if he doesn’t feel the same way?”

Jake pursed his lips, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides as he pondered his response. Finally, he released a long sigh.

“I don’t think you have to worry about that, nena. He’d be crazy not to.”

The smell of cinnamon wafted down the hallway as Steven rose from his slumber. There was a gentle melody floating in the air as he pulled himself from the bed, rubbing sleep from his eyes, his bare feet padding along the tiled floor towards the source of the noise.

She was singing quietly to herself, back towards him as she chopped the fresh strawberries into fourths. He couldn’t help but smile at the domesticity of it all—the woman he loved, that he fought beside, making breakfast for them to share. His heart felt whole.

He sidled up behind her, arms wrapping around her waist and his body pressing flush against her back. He placed a kiss to the exposed skin of her neck, her hair pulled up in a sloppy updo.

“G’mornin’, darling.”

He hummed sleepily, and he felt her chest rumble with an airy giggle as she leaned into his touch.

“Hi, handsome. Sleep okay?”

He reached over her shoulder to steal a strawberry from the cutting board, taking a bite of the succulent fruit before offering the other half to her by pressing it to her lips. She smiled and happily accepted his offering.

“Would’ve slept even better if I’d woken up to your face beside me.”

She threw her head back, leaning against his chest as she laughed brightly—his favorite sound.

“Oh, boohoo. Sorry for getting up early to make you breakfast.”

She teased, and Steven pressed his face into her hair, the smell of her coconut shampoo enticing him. His arms reached to rest on the countertop to either side of her, successfully caging her in. He heard her breath hitch as the movement of the knife in her hand stalled, his body pressing up more firmly against her—enough so that she could feel the hardness of his manhood against the flesh of her ass.

“The strawberries are sweet, darling, but I’d rather have something even sweeter for breakfast this mornin’, yeah?”

“G’mornin’, darling.”

The knife fumbled in your grasp and the blade slipped across your fingers, slicing a divot in the tender flesh between your thumb and forefinger.

“Steven! Shit!”

You immediately dropped the knife and rushed towards the sink, rinsing your wound under the cold water to inspect the damage and dilute the blood.

“Oh, Gods, m’so sorry, love—are you alright?”

You could feel his body creeping up behind you, an arm reaching around to grab yours in an attempt to investigate the source of your discomfort. The warmth of his presence against your back startled you, a fierce blush rising to your cheeks as you reached for a towel and sidestepped, trying to put as much distance between the two of you as possible.

“It’s—I’m fine. It’s just a tiny cut, it’s no big deal.”

You brushed it off, although your palm was beginning to throb. You pulled the washcloth away from the afflicted area, finding it soaked with a generous amount of your blood.

“Looks like it hurts. Can I—may I help you with it?”

There was trepidation in his big brown eyes, obviously put off by the hastiness with which you’d pulled away from him. You surrendered yourself, offering a sigh and a slow nod.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

You found yourself in a similar position to the previous night, although this time, the roles were reversed—and your wound was from an unfortunate kitchen incident, not a scuffle with a group of evil antique smugglers.

Steven’s bottom lip was pulled between his teeth as he secured a piece of gauze on the injury with medical tape, winding it around your palm so it fit snugly against the area. His hands were nimble and his touch was painfully gentle, the pads of his fingers just barely skimming over your skin in an effort to prevent you from more discomfort. A chill crept up your spine at the close proximity.

He looked rather satisfied with himself when he’d finished, shoving the medical supplies back into the bin beneath your sink that you had specially packed for him.

“There we are—good as new.”

He smiled cheerily at you, and it was so contagious that you couldn’t help but grin back at him. Your mind briefly darted back to your conversation with Jake the night before; then the unholy thoughts you’d been having this morning when Steven had snuck up on you. Gods, you really were getting out of control...

Steven led you from the bathroom and you returned to your post, rinsing the knife and the sliced strawberries to ensure they weren’t contaminated. You stepped over to the stove to check the steel-cut oatmeal that had been simmering—Steven’s favorite. You gave it a few good stirs before deciding that it was finished, filling up two bowls with generous servings and sprinkling the top with strawberries, brown sugar, and a pinch of cinnamon. Steven was already seated at you breakfast bar when you turned to offer him his meal.

“Bon apétit.”

You flourished playfully, passing the bowl in front of him as you seated yourself on the stool across the way. His eyes crinkled with appreciation when he smiled.

“Oh, it smells bloody lovely. Thank you, darling.”

He always called you that, you rationalized. It was nothing more than a term of endearment—a friendly pet name.

You ate in silence for awhile, save for the sound of silverware clinking against porcelain and the birds chirping from your open window. Your eyes couldn’t help but follow him as he slipped a strawberry past his lips, something reminiscent of a moan escaping him as he savored the flavor of the fruit. Your face flushed bright red.

“Yes, darling—just like that, please.”

He was whimpering beneath her, pupils blown wide as he gazed up at her from where she straddled him, sliding her naked and exposed core over his boxer-clad erection.

“You wanna be inside me, Steven?”

She cooed, leaning forward to kiss along his stubbled jawline, and he moaned wantonly, hips rutting up against her.

“Gods, yes, love, please, I can’t—”

“S’there somethin’ on my face?”

Panic flooded you at the bewildered expression on Steven’s face, his hand coming up to wipe at his mouth in case you'd been gawking at some remnants of food on the corners of his lips.

You shook your head, eyes wide and cheeks already turning pink.

“I—No, no, there’s not, I—sorry. I was just—just thinking.”

He gave you a brief scrutinizing look before shrugging and diving back into the remainder of his oatmeal.

“What were you thinkin’ about?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Oh, it’s—nothing, really. Sometimes I just—space out, I guess.”

You offered sheepishly, toying with the last few bites of your food with your spoon—your appetite was suddenly gone.

“You seem to do that a lot, yeah? S’everything alright?”

“Yes.”

You answered him a bit too quickly, hastily jumping to end the conversation before it even began. His brows furrowed, watching as you quickly grabbed both bowls to busy yourself with cleaning up.

He wasn’t quite satisfied with your answer—in fact, it only served to startle him more. He watched you carefully as you began to viciously scrub at the blue porcelain bowls with a sponge.

“Are you...sure? I’m just—you’re worryin’ me a bit, yeah? And with last night, with Marc—if somethin’s the matter, you know you can always talk to us, ‘lright?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing yourself to take in a slow, careful breath in an effort to soothe your frazzled nerves.

“Yeah, I know, Steven—thank you. But—but everything’s just fine, really.”

She’s lying.

Steven was surprised to hear Jake’s voice echo from the back of the headspace—it wasn’t often that he offered internal commentary to any conversations outside of when he was fronting.

And how do you know that?

Marc quipped back in his mind—Steven hated when they argued in the headspace, especially when he was the one in control of the body. His brain felt too full and it was easy for him to get overstimulated.

What—you think she’s telling the truth, jefe?

Marc didn’t respond, and Steven was silently grateful that their quarrel had ended quickly. Still, he knew his alters were correct—you definitely weren’t ‘just fine.’

But the last thing he wanted to do was push you away, especially since it already felt like you were putting up a wall between you, keeping him at arm’s length.

He let out a long sigh, standing up from the bar to get ready to depart for his shift at the museum.

“Well, thank you for brekky, love, and for—everything else.”

You startled when you turned, finding him standing directly behind you, pulling you into his warm embrace without any due warning. God, why was he so fucking sweet? Guilt gnawed away are your insides—Jake was right. He really did deserve to know the truth, why you were spending more time living in your fantasyland than grounded in reality—but surely it’d scare him off. Marc, too.

Perhaps it was just better to keep imagining what it would be like to be loved by them—at least without being outright rejected, there would always be that small sliver of hope gleaming in the back of your mind, that tiny semblance of ‘what if’ that you let linger.

You melted into his arms, face pressed into his shoulder.

“Anytime, Steven, really. It’s my pleasure.”

There was always a smile on her face when they departed—even if their time away from each other was difficult, she knew she could look forward to the next time they'd see each other. The way his big brown eyes would light up with elation when he saw her, like an overexcited puppy reuniting with its owner.

The grin remained on her face, still, after he’d kissed her goodbye and they parted ways. She hummed softly to herself as she journeyed down the hallway to remake the bed and tidy up the room.

He never did remember to tuck in the blankets. She laughed quietly to herself and she entered the room, filled with the distinctive cypress scent of him. She reached to fluff the pillows—

Oh. That shouldn’t be there, should it?

Your fingers wrapped around the small white trinket, strung along on a leather braided band. You lifted it up to your face to inspect it more closely—it was an pendant carved from ivory, shaped like a cross with a loop at the top. An ankh—the key of life—you recalled, as Steven had once taught you. There was a certain texture that ran along the sides, and only when you brought the object right up to your nose were you able to see that there was a teeny tiny pattern etched into the surface. Hieroglyphics.

Shit, you realized. This looked like something that would be in the museum Steven worked at—although it looked a bit too high quality to be sold in the gift shop. Nonetheless, you realized that it must’ve slipped from his pocket while he was getting dressed. What if it was important?

You wandered back to the kitchen and tried calling his cell, once, then twice, without receiving an answer. He was probably already being berated by Donna—oh, well. The museum was on your way to work anyhow, just one bus stop before the café that you worked at. You could swing by and give it to him before your shift.

You glanced down at your phone to shoot him a quick text.

hey, you forgot something here i’ll drop it off for you in a bit x

It was only when you were strolling down the street with the pendant strung around your neck that a thrill of excitement ran up your spine.

What if this was from his latest mission?

It wasn’t something you’d considered before, but now that you thought about it, it seemed like the likeliest explanation. The boys didn’t tell you much about their escapades as the masked lunar vigilante, save for the vague explanations about the injuries they asked you to patch up—but you knew enough to be two-and-two together. This must be the ancient artifact he had been sent to retrieve on Khonshu’s behalf the previous night.

You suppressed a smile by sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, filled with giddiness. You were actually helping.

“Where is it?”

A venomous voice seethed, peering down at the crumpled form of the man at his feet. Marc was hunched over, arms chained behind his back, blood from his abdomen beginning to soak through the white fabric of his suit. His mouth tasted like copper, teeth coated in the sticky red substance as a gruff hand came to harshly grip his jaw, forcing his eyes upward. He sneered.

“I told you. I don’t know.”

Another punch collided with his face, this time connecting with the bridge of his nose and sending him careening backwards, landing against the concrete with a grunt.

“You’re full of shit. We know it was you at the burial site, Spector. We have eyewitnesses. You’re the only person in the world who could have possibly taken it.”

To the man's utter surprise, Marc Spector began to laugh. It was a wet sound, his mask receding so he could spit out a wad of crimson-tinted bile as he chuckled wolfishly, his lips curling up into a snarl. The perpetrator felt fear shoot through him at the look on his face.

“You’re wrong, actually. See, I was there.”

He clarified, eyes glinting dangerously. His attacker stumbled backwards as a harsh silver light blinded him briefly, and when his vision cleared, the Moon Knight had risen to his feet, freed from his shackles.

“I just wasn’t alone.”

The hair on the back of his neck prickled as he slowly turned around, met face to face with intense glare of a woman, her eyes still glowing with residual power. She tilted her head at him condescendingly, before lifting her right hand—the white ankh charm was dangling from her fingertips as she smiled coyly up at him.

“Looking for this?”

She cooed, smirking innocently, and before the man could even blink, she had pounced, wrestling him to the floor and pressing his face down against the cold flooring, cheek smushed against the pavement. She straddled his back, using her weight to hold him still while her fingers made a curling motion in the air—a rope of pure silvery light materialized with the sweep of her hand, binding the man’s hands behind his back with tendrils of starlight.

Her partner was dealing with the other two lackeys, one already laid out on the ground and the other lifted in the air by his neck, one of Marc’s gloved hands raising him up with his fingers pressing beneath his jaw.

When he stopped resisting, Marc let his body collapse to the floor in a heap before he turned back to face the woman, whose chest was rising and falling with heavy breaths. Even after a fight, she somehow appeared graceful and collected—she reached upward and pulled a stray hair from her eyes, tucking it back into it’s place beneath her star-laden headdress. Their eyes met briefly.

“Thanks.”

Marc swallowed, his head bowed low in embarrassment. He waited for the jab to come—‘I told you so.’ He deserved it, really. It was stupid to come in alone.

Instead, he was startled when she approached him softly, her eyes glittering as she lifted her hand to gently brush over his cheekbone, her smile gentle and kind.

“I’ll always have your back. You know that, right?”

He looked away, ridden with guilt and remorse, but she urged his eyes back to her with the nudge of her fingers.

“Marc. I mean it.”

He felt tears stinging the back of his eyes as he sniffed, trying to play off his emotions with fabricated nonchalance.

“Yeah, I know.”

She nodded once, withdrawing her hand from his face before lifting the ancient artifact up to his face, waving it for emphasis.

“We should probably get this to the old bird, then, huh?”

Her head snapped to the side at the gust of wind that abruptly passed them, her eyes trailing up the heavenly form of the aforementioned deity, the slope of his ivory beak towering above her. She swallowed—she’d never actually seen him before, only heard of him in passing from his Avatar. Khonshu.

Time seemed to freeze, briefly, as her breath slowly made its way back to her lungs. The skeletal bird tilted his domineering skull downward, staring her down with intensity.

“Wake up, little star.”

Her brows furrowed, her jaw dropping to reply, but he interrupted.

“You are not a part of this. You’re going to get yourself killed.”

Her head started to swim, the image in front of her turning hazy as her vision began to blur. She blinked profusely. This isn’t a part of the script, this isn’t supposed to happen—

“Wake up!”

With a jolt, you were pulled from your daydream—just in time for a hand to slip over your mouth to muffle your scream before everything went dark.

When your eyes blinked open, heavy with exhaustion, you were staring up at the white ceiling of your bedroom. You made a move to sit up, but the movement caused a throbbing pain to bloom in the back of your skull, forcing you back down against the pillows as a groan of discomfort fell from your lips. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to regain your bearings, when a set of heavy footsteps grabbed your attention from the hallway.

He faltered in the doorway when he made eye contact with you, his dark brows furrowed heavily with concern, dark purple bags settled beneath his lower lashes. When his initial shock wore off, his jaw set as he approached you slowly, a glass of tap water clutched in his left hand. He perched carefully on the edge of the bed, mindful not the nudge you.

“Marc?”

You croaked, your throat hoarse and dry, and he wordlessly reached forward, propping you further up onto the pillows before lifting the glass to your lips.

“Drink.”

He said sternly, pressing the rim to your mouth, and you obliged blindly, letting him tip the contents of the cup back into your mouth as you took slow, tentative sips. When he was satisfied with your water intake, he pulled the glass away and set it on the bedside table, the movement punctuated by a heavy sigh. Your eyes followed him carefully, brows knit together in confusion.

“I—what happened?”

You asked slowly, sitting yourself upward just a bit more. The pain in your head was lessening, although their was still a dull ache lingering at the back of your neck. You could see his jaw ripple again as he clenched his teeth, his body facing the door and his eyes focused on the wall across from him. You studied his profile carefully before he ran a tired hand down his face, rubbing at his eyes with his fingers.

“What do you remember?”

He prompted, and you hesitated, thinking back on the last thing you recalled. You remembered leaving for work, and finding the little white pendant you were planning on returning—and you remember getting lost in another fantasy before a hand clamped around your mouth and—

“Was I kidnapped?”

You asked incredulously, eyes blowing wide with realization as you recalled the sensation of a strong grasp around your face and neck before your fell unconscious. You watched his lip twitch with frustration.

“No. Well—yes. But you, I mean—what the fuck were you thinking?”

He finally turned to look at you, and when he did, you immediately wanted to shrink away and evaporate. His eyes were fiery, burning red hot with fury, the disapproving expression on his face striking something deep in your chest.

“What do you mean?”

You asked quietly, feeling tears begin to prick at your eyes, and Marc stood up, running a hand through his unruly curls as he took in a deep breath, obviously attempting to maintain some semblance of composure.

“You almost got yourself killed—bringing that charm with you, parading it around like a trophy.”

“I didn’t know, Marc, I just—”

“It doesn’t matter. I can’t let you get wrapped up in all of this—fuck, if I hadn’t been there...”

His back was towards you, but you could see the tension in his shoulders, his body heaving with heavy panting breaths. You felt small, like a child being reprimanded. You felt your eyes flood with tears.

“I was just trying to help.”

“Yeah, well, don’t.”

His voice was firm and harsh as he snapped over his shoulder at you, glaring.

“You can’t help. You’re not a part of this.”

You felt your heart hammering in your chest, desperation clawing inside of you as you threw back the blankets, swinging your legs off the side of the mattress so you could approach him.

“But maybe I can, Marc, if you’d just give me a chance, if you’d let me—”

“Stop!”

He whipped around to face you, voice louder than you'd ever heard it before. He was yelling, towering over you as he snarled, fuming.

“Just stop. If you keep this up, you’re gonna get yourself and a lot of other people hurt. You’re not a fucking Avatar—”

“You don’t think I know that?”

Marc flinched when you matched his intensity, the tears falling down your cheeks a stark contrast from the sheer anger that dominated your expression.

“You don’t think I realize that? Or think about it every goddamn night when I have to sit here, alone, wondering if you’re gonna show up, or if you’re somewhere dead and I can’t do anything but wait.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, attempting to swallow your tears down as you broke down in front of the man, your internal conflict reaching a boiling point and spewing out of you without warning.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve wished I could be out there with you, doing something, helping, anything—how often I imagine what it would be like if I wasn’t fucking useless, if I was actually a part of—”

“What did you just say?”

Your eyes snapped open, and your anger faltered when you saw the look of pure horror on Marc’s face, his skin looking several shades paler than it had before. Your mind was reeling, trying to look back on what you said, what your mistake had been, but he quickly clarified for you.

“Did you just—are you saying you wish you were an Avatar?”

His body was rigid, his expression suddenly stony and impenetrable as he looked down at you, offering a barely perceptible shake of his head as he grimaced.

“How could you—how could you possibly want that? Why would you ever—”

You could see his eyes turn glassy as he turned away, his chest beginning to heave again as he ran both of his hands through his hair anxiously, his gaze suddenly appearing frenzied. His words were laced with something adjacent to betrayal.

“You have no idea what—what I wouldn’t give to go back to my life before all of this, to—to not carry this weight, to not—I fucking kill people, do you not understand that? I’m a monster, because my life is fucking controlled by a monster, and you wish you were like me? You wanna suffer like this?”

“At least we’d be suffering together.”

It was barely more than a whisper, your addition, but Marc caught it. You couldn’t bear to look at him anymore—you turned and sat back on the bed, folding your hands in your lap and staring down at your fingers as your heart finally poured out of your chest.

“I don’t know what else I could do, Marc. I don’t know any other way to get you to actually see me.”

“See you?”

He asked incredulously, face marred with confusion, and your lip quivered as you looked anywhere but at him, awaiting his rejection as you spoke.

“I just—all I’ve ever wanted was to be able to help you. To—for you to trust me, for you to—to care about me, and—and the only scenario I can actually imagine you wanting me is if I’m not myself, I’m a version of myself that’s actually strong and capable and—”

You stifled a sob, your face scrunching up as your arms wrapped around yourself in a protective stance, huddling inward as you cried.

“—I don’t know what I’m trying to say, but I just—I want to be more than I am because—because I want to matter to you, Marc, but I know that won’t happen because I’m just—I’m just me.”

Marc fell silent. Your heart was hammering in your chest as you squeezed your bleary eyes shut, forcing yourself to take slow, deliberate inhales despite your desire to hyperventilate. You felt like the room was closing in on you, the walls shrinking and shrinking and you wished the space would swallow you whole.

“What have I done to ever make you think you don’t matter to me?”

His voice was soft and quiet, and when you blinked your tear-filled eyes open, he was staring at you, a look of genuine hurt on his chiseled features. You stuttered.

“I—what?”

“I—”

You watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed thickly.

“Why would you ever think that I don’t care about you? That you have to—to be someone else for that to happen?”

He sounded broken, his big brown eyes wide and imploring, and the sight made your chest feel tight. You pressed the butts of your palms into your eyes.

“I don’t know, Marc. You’re—you’re a fuckin’ superpowered badass who was chosen by an ancient Egyptian god to beat up monsters and go on these epic missions, and—and how can I even compete with that? I don’t even understand why you waste your time with me.”

“Why do you keep saying things like that?”

You startled when he took a few hulking steps towards you, his brows creasing in a look of frustration.

“If you’re so convinced that I’m some superior being to you—which I’m not—then rationalize that, for me. Why would I keep coming back if I didn’t care about you?”

Confusion flashed across your face as you contemplated his question.

“Because—because I patch you up when you get hurt, and I—and I take care of you. You only come here when you need something—”

“But that’s not true.”

He insisted, sounding exasperated with your obstinance.

“I have a magic suit of armor that heals me, I don’t even need you to stitch me back together—”

“But you told me—”

“Well, I lied.”

He snapped, his arms crossing over his chest, and you felt a foreign feeling flutter in the pit of your stomach as his hands came up to rub at his jaw—a nervous habit.

“It was an excuse, and honestly, not even a very convincing one. An excuse to see you.”

Your head was starting to pound again, a dull ache blooming behind your eyes as your mind continued to reel. It didn’t make any sense.

“But you—you never needed an excuse. I would’ve dropped everything for you, Marc—for all three of you.”

“I know.”

He nodded sadly, his face pained as he flinched at your words.

“And that’s what’s so bad about all of this. I shouldn’t have—you shouldn’t feel that way about me. I’m—it’s dangerous. I’ve been trying so hard to push you away because if something happens to you, if you get hurt—that’s on me. And I don’t know what I’d do with myself if—”

“I’m a big girl, Marc.”

You defended, and he seemed impressed with the conviction of your tone.

“You’ve never been anything but honest about the kind of life you live, the kind of things you do—if that scared me, you wouldn’t be standing here right now. I made that choice for myself.”

He looked like he wanted to argue, his lips parting to scold you or deny your claims, but there was resolve in his eyes. You watched as he slowly walked towards the bed, slumping into a seated position beside you, utterly defeated.

“I know.”

It was difficult for you to focus with the proximity of your bodies. He’d left a generous gap between the two of you, but his legs were spread wide as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, and your legs were almost touching. It was unbearable.

“I always thought you were taking advantage of me.”

You spoke smally, a bit ashamed and hesitant to admit the truth, and you saw Marc’s shoulders tense before he hung his head low, a deep sigh coming from his chest.

“Yeah. Jake told me that you might be feeling that way.”

Your eyes darted to his face, taken completely by surprise.

“He—he did?”

Marc chuckled ruefully, scoffing a bit at his alter.

“And I never fuckin’ listened. Told me I needed to come clean—be honest about how I feel, or else I’ll just keep hurting you more—”

“I didn’t realize he’d actually tried to talk to you about it.”

Marc’s brows furrowed.

“Wait, are you—did you tell him that?”

You blushed, feeling somewhat guilty as you nodded. You weren’t proud of the fact that you’d been talking about Marc and Steven behind their backs to their other alter.

“Why did—why didn’t you just talk to me?”

Marc leaned towards you, trying to catch your gaze with his, but you quickly looked forward again, eyes focusing in on your shaky hands.

“I didn’t know if—I never had to question things with Jake. He’s never been shy about how he feels about me.”

“Jake’s never been shy about anything in his entire goddamn life.”

You actually giggled at that, Marc’s tone sour and somewhat envious, but a soft smile easily curled on his lips at the sound of your laughter. When your amusement faded slightly, your breath caught in your throat when you felt a warm hand fall atop your knee, thumb rubbing over the flesh gently. You stared at the place where his skin met yours, heat flushing your cheeks.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. If I would’ve known sooner—if he’d have told me—”

You shook your head quickly, dismissing his apology.

“No, don’t. I made him promise me he wouldn’t tell you. And—and the reason I didn’t say anything is, well—he would never tell me if you felt the same, so I didn’t—I just kind of assumed you didn’t.”

“I don’t understand why you think so little of yourself.”

His fingers gripped your knee a bit more firmly, the heat of his hand traveling upwards despite your attempts to stop it.

“You really think—thought the only way I’d want you is if you were an Avatar?”

You laughed wetly, swiping the last of your tears from beneath your eyes as you shook your head abashedly.

“When you say it out loud, it sounds so fucking stupid.”

“Hey, it’s not stupid.”

He corrected, and you froze when you felt his hand lift from your knee to reach towards your face, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear so he could see you more clearly. His fingers slipped beneath your jaw and gently coaxed your head to face him. You forgot how to breathe.

“It’s just not true.”

“Baby, I’ve wanted you since the day I met you, Avatar or not.”

She let out a quiet gasp at his confession, face lighting up with delight as he surged forward and captured her lips with his own, whimpering against her mouth as his arms encircled her body. He guided her back towards the bed, laying her out beneath him, looking absolutely heavenly, truly ravishing, and the sight made him ravenous as he worshipped her, starting by dragging his tongue—

“Hey. Where’d you go?”

It was only a brief moment of wistfulness, your daydream, but Marc saw the way your eyes misted and filled with a faraway look. He let his fingers dance across the softness of your neck before reaching to cradle your jaw in his hand, fingers threading into the hair behind your left ear.

You blinked away your reverie, trying to ground yourself in the present regardless of how desperately you wanted to fantasize about how much you craved him, how much you just wished he wanted you—

“Sorry.”

You uttered, voice barely above a whisper, and you blinked up at him through your wet lashes, doe-eyed. Your shame quickly melted away into something entirely different when you saw the ghost of a smile flicker over his lips.

“What were you thinking about?”

Your breathing stuttered, and you opened your mouth to speak but he cut you off quickly, the timbre of his voice low and gravelly.

“You can tell me, sweetheart. Whatever it was, whatever you want—I’ll give it to you.”

It all became too much too quickly—the swirling heat of desire coiling lowly in your abdomen, the warmth of his exhales across your face, the roughness of his hands against the soft skin of your cheek, the almost taunting gleam in his dark eyes. His promise emboldened you, and without much thought, you surged forward and captured his lips in your own, whimpering against his mouth as your arms encircled his body.

He was quick to meet your pace, his free arm twisting to wrap around your lower back so he could pull you into his lap, one of your hands sinking into his brown curls and the other digging into his right shoulder. You heard him groan into your lips and you took the opportunity to sink your tongue into his mouth, deepening the kiss as you pressed your body flush against him, desperately seeking as much closeness as possible.

When his lips left yours and began to trail down your jaw and throat, you were pulled out of your stupor.

“Wait—wait.”

You whispered, fingers tugging at his curls so you could see his face. His brows furrowed in concern as he looked at you with worried eyes, his lips dewy and kiss-swollen.

“What’s wrong?”

He asked carefully, his voice gruff but still attentive, and you lifted both hands to cradle his face, thumbs sweeping over his cheekbones as you drank in his features, studying his face carefully.

“I just—”

You let out a shaky exhale, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his.

“I need to know that this is real. That you’re—that this is all real.”

He pulled away from you slightly, grinning somewhat wolfishly at you.

“This is real, baby��does it feel real?”

You nodded eagerly, your lips still tingling from the severity of his kisses, and he pulled you in for another one, his touch deliciously bruising.

When he pulled away again, you felt his fingers trace down your arm before he grabbed your hand in his. Your brows furrowed in confusion as he guided your grasp between your bodies, but your hips jolted when he pressed your hand into the hardness of his bulge in his jeans. You whimpered at the feeling, fingers curling around his length to squeeze him. His lashes fluttered.

“Yeah, baby—you feel what you do to me? That’s fuckin’ real.”

You felt yourself grow increasingly desperate at his words, fingers curling into the hem of his shirt and yanking it over his head with abandon. He seemed in tune with your own neediness because pretty soon, clothes were being ripped off and haphazardly tossed around the room, lips meeting newly-exposed skin at every opportunity.

You were laid out beneath him, his body slotted between your parted legs as he hovered over you, pumping his cock languidly as he gazed down at you with hooded eyes.

“I’ve pictured this, too, you know.”

You felt a small smile find your face.

“Really?”

He bit his lip, the pace of his hand jerking his length speeding up just slightly.

“Oh, fuck yeah, baby. You’re even more beautiful than I ever imagined.”

His sweet compliment was a stark contrast to the depravity of the current situation, but you could hear the sincerity in his words. You smiled up at him, reaching forward to take his cock in your grasp and line him up with your awaiting entrance.

“And you’re even bigger than I ever imagined.”

You purred, watching his eyes flash with pride as he leaned forward to brush the tip of his cock through your sopping folds, causing you to mewl unsurepetitiously.

“Please, Marc, shit—I can’t wait anymore, please.”

He grinned wickedly down at you, and before you could even take a breath, he was plunging into you with force, his cock sheathing itself fully within the softness of your cunt.

He choked above you, his arm slamming down on the mattress beside your head for support, his fist curling into the sheets.

“Jesus fuck, you’re tight.”

He breathed out, his expression almost pained with just how perfectly your walls were squeezing him.

The sudden intrusion was a startling sensation, but the burn of the stretch was quickly evolving into an addictive sting of pleasure.

“Oh, God, yes—move, Marc, please.”

You begged, brows furrowed deeply, and Marc quickly obliged, starting a rapid pace as he hammered into you, his hips snapping forward with jarring strength. The sound of slapping skin echoed within the room and only served to add to your arousal, the noises leaving your lips sinful and completely involuntary.

“Fuck yeah, baby—is this what you wanted? This what you’ve been daydreaming about, huh? My cock filling you up?”

You moaned wantonly, back arching at Marc’s words. His curls were falling across his forehead, dampened with sweat, and you reached up to grip his shoulders for support, fingernails digging into the carved muscle.

“Yes, fuck, yes—so good, Marc, so fucking good—”

He reached down and lifted your legs to wrap around his waist, forcing his cock even deeper inside of you, the new angle earning a sharp cry. Your walls were fluttering around him.

“Yeah, you wanna cum, baby? You wanna cum on my cock?” He hand reached between your bodies to thumb at your clit, and the added stimulation sent you suddenly toppling over the edge into your orgasm, your eyes rolling back into your head as you let out a long, drawn-out moan.

“Yeah, attagirl—fuck yeah.”

Your walls were clamping down on him, pulsing rhythmically over the ridges of his cock, and he felt his release rapidly approaching.

“You want my cum, baby?”

You nodded frantically at him, eyes wild with desperation, and Marc groaned as his pace began to stutter.

“Where, baby? Where do you want it?”

You fingers sank further into the flesh of his shoulders.

“Mouth—want you to cum in my mouth.”

Your request alone was enough to send him hurtling over the edge.

“Oh, shit, gonna cum—”

He pulled out of you quickly, hand reaching down to fervidly fist at his cock as he crawled forward to straddle your stomach on his knees—you eagerly leaned forward just in time as his balls drew up tight, his cum shooting straight across your awaiting tongue as you opened your mouth wide for him.

“Oh, baby—fuuuuckkk—”

His hips thrusted into his fist with each pump of cum that escaped him, some shooting above your lip and dribbling down your chin. He grunted harshly as he tapped the tip of his cock over your tongue, coating the head in his release that had pooled within your mouth. You quickly closed your lips around him and suckled the tip into your mouth, swallowing all of his seed as you swirled your tongue around his length.

He let out a low groan before he finally reached forward to tug you off of him, collapsing onto the mattress beside you heavily.

You both caught your breath for a few moments, coming back down to Earth after your intense climaxes.

It was Marc who broke the silence first, a deep chuckle coming from his chest.

“If this is what you’re constantly daydreaming about, then fuck—you gotta tell me. I will make every goddamned one come true.”

Your laughter matched his own as he reached over to wrap an arm around you, pulling you towards the warmth of his body comfortingly. Your smile quickly faded as the heat of the moment made way for reality.

“Was this—I mean, this wasn’t just—just a one-time thing... right?”

Marc pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering along your hairline.

“No, baby. Besides—Jake and Steven haven’t even gotten their turns with you.”

His attempt at a joke fell flat.

“That’s not what I mean.”

You said quietly, and Marc sighed, letting his head rest atop yours as he held you close.

“Sorry. I know what you meant, but still, the answer’s no. Kinda hoping this is an all-the-time thing.”

Now, you laughed, and he swore it was his favorite sound in the entire world.

You had a brief conversation with Steven about your mutual feelings, later—although he was a stuttering mess, his smile was wide and eyes were bright with elation when he finally kissed you. He fell asleep holding you close to him, and you listened to his breathing slow as you began to doze off beside him.

Just when you were about to fall asleep, his arms around you squeezed tighter.

“Told you so.”

Jake’s voice taunted jokingly, and you lifted a fist to punch his shoulder at his teasing. He chuckled, and you tilted your head so you could see his face—he looked relaxed, truly at ease, and you practically melted into his touch.

“Yeah, I guess you did.”

You admitted defeat, and Jake gave you a cheeky lopsided grin before he leaned down and gave you a soft, chaste kiss that left you breathless.

You rested your head back against his chest, but he interrupted your peace yet again.

“Can I ask you somethin, nena?”

You nodded.

“You told Marc you imagined being an Avatar. ’m just curious—what kind of things do you think about?”

You felt your face flush with embarrassment, still feeling silly and insecure about admitting to your daydreaming habits, but Jake gently encouraged you enough until you relented, explaining how you’d always had an infatuation with the deity Nut and liked the poeticism of the pairing of the moon and the stars.

“And you called me estrellita.”

You informed shyly, nuzzling into the crook of his neck, but you could hear the way his breath caught in his throat, his muscles tensing just slightly.

“Estrellita?”

He questioned, and you lifted your head to look at him, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“Yeah, it—it means ‘little star.’”

You explained, and he shook his head.

“I know that, but I—hmm.”

His lips pursed, and you nudged him, his confusion worrying you.

“What? What’s wrong?”

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye before staring back up at the ceiling, his expression contemplative

“No, it’s nothing. It’s just—today, when Khonshu came to tell us that you were in trouble, he—he called you that. Little star.”

You bolted upright, the color quickly draining from your face.

“He fucking what?”

Jake shrugged uneasily, but you felt your heart begin to hammer in your chest, recalling the bizarre intrusion Khonshu had made in your fantasy today, interrupting your own train of thought. Was that—actually him?

Little did you know, Khonshu had been eavesdropping on your daily mental escapes for some time, entertained by both your active imagination and the elaborate stories you seemed to conjure up on a whim. As a matter of fact, both he and Nut found great amusement in your investment in the life of the Egyptian deities, and should something happen to the Goddess of the Sky’s current Avatar—she knew exactly where to find her next candidate.

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stevesjockstrap · 1 month ago

Text

Santa Claus is Coming To Town

Rated E • Stevie/Eddie • read on ao3

Written for @stevieweek Holiday Movie Marathon: Santa Clause Counting it for @steddiesongfics too

Santa Stevie/Elf Eddie, I’ve seen the Santa Clause movies too many times, Getting together, elf magic used inappropriately, transfem Steve Harrington

“Thank you so much for coming so last minute, honey,” Claudia gushed, hugging Stevie as she was pulled inside into the hall. “Dustin is excited you’re going to be babysitting.”

“Mooommmmm!!” Dustin shouted from the dining room. “I’m not a baby!”

Stevie laughed quietly with Claudia as they walked to the other room.

“Of course you’re not, Dusty buns. We know you’re very mature and adult for an eight year old,” his mom winked across the room as she pressed a kiss to his head. “Now be good for Stevie, dear. There’s tons of food and I’m sure he’ll want to be in bed early so Santa can come.”

Dustin perked up at that, nodding aggressively. “I sure will, mom!”

Claudia grabbed her purse and was gone, having to help at the hospital due to call offs and the emergency room was already packed.

Helping herself to the home cooked meal on the table, they settled in for the night.

“We have to read ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas! It’s tradition!”

Stevie rolled her eyes but agreed, snuggling in next to him in his bed with the book.

“What’s ’a rose such a clatter?’” he frowned.

Pointing at the words, she explained, “Arose means — it came. And a clatter is a big noise.”

“Why do they have to use such weird words?”

“…Merry Christmas and to all a good night!”

“Stevie! Wake up!”

She groaned, looking around. It was pitch black, she was still curled up on the couch. “What’s the matter?”

“A clatter!”

She rubbed her eyes, not understanding at all what was happening. “What?”

“It’s Santa! You know, the big noise! He’s here! C’mon!”

He pulled her off the couch and out into the front yard. She rubbed her eyes again.

“What the hell?” Dustin elbowed her. “Lay off, kid, my cussing is the least of our worries right now,” she hissed.

On the top of the house, there was a real sleigh with eight real reindeer. She blinked her eyes a bunch, then looked around for a camera crew or something.

“Hey look!” Dustin pointed up at the roof again, where a tall man in red had appeared. “It’s Santa! He’s real!”

The shout apparently shocked him, and he misstepped, losing his balance and toppling off the roof.

They could only stand there as the man hit the ground in front of them, as they watched his body disappeared, leaving only the red suit.

“You killed him,” Stevie whispered.

“I didn’t mean to!” He cried, looking around starting to panic.

Stevie felt drawn to the suit, somehow knowing there would be an answer inside.

“What are you doing?” Dustin hissed at her.

“I have no idea,” she responded, but then held up a small card that was in a pocket of the suit. “Look.”

Dustin snatched it from her. “If anything happens to me, put on the suit and get in the sleigh, the reindeer will know what to do. What does that mean?”

She turned to go back inside, the rational part of her brain finally clicking on, but she ran into a ladder that had come from nowhere. “What the fu-“

Holding her head, Dustin came over to investigate. She almost laughed at the face he made, but then he was scurrying up the ladder to the roof. “Wait! Hey!” She called. Remembering the suit, she hastily grabbed it from the ground before climbing up after him.

The reindeer did not look impressed. The front one snorted as she appeared on the roof. “Same to you,” she scoffed. “Now what?” She asked Dustin.

“Put on the suit!”

She looked down at the pile of red in her hands. “No way, we’re going to leave all of this alone and go back inside and call the police and maybe your mom. This is nuts! This is just a dream, or like a hallucination.” The reindeer snorted again. “Shut up!”

Dustin, however, was standing inside the sleigh. “Come look at this!”

“Ugh,” she huffed, stomping over to climb up into the massive vehicle. “This is too much, we gotta go- woah!”

The reindeer had taken off, sending them down into the seat and flying so fast the lights around them turned into streaks. As suddenly as they had started, they stopped. They were on another roof, who knows where.

“Oh my god,” Dustin whispered. “We have to keep delivering the presents.”

“What?” She cried. The first reindeer turned around and nodded at her. “For real? How are we supposed to do that?”

“Put on the suit!” He pointed down at the floor where the red fluffy thing had fallen.

Something inside of her knew that was what she was supposed to do. With a sigh, she slid her legs into the pants, pulling them up. “This belt better be really freaking magic,” she muttered.

Tying the sash around her waist and then the belt, she held her arms out to Dustin who gave her a thumbs up. She turned around to show the reindeer, the front one huffing at her impatiently.

“Alright, alright. Now what?”

Dustin threw something at her and she caught it, then screamed when Santa’s sack started floating over her head, taking her with it. “This is nuts!”

She blinked and she was being sucked down the chimney under her. “Holy shit,” she muttered, looking around the dark house.

There was a small child asleep on the couch, so she tried her best to walk silently in the big boots. She set the toys under the tree as quietly as she could,

“Santa?” A tiny voice startled her. “Why are you a girl?”

She stopped short, toy doll in hand. “What are you, my dad? You want this doll or not? Go to sleep!”

The girl closed her eyes, but as Stevie turned to approach the fireplace, wondering how she was supposed to go back up, the voice behind her reminded her, “You’re supposed to eat the cookies and drink the milk.”

She rolled her eyes and took a deep breath. “Jeez kid, it’s my first day can you give me a break?”

Whipping around to find the small end table with a Santa-shaped plate, she grabbed a cookie and took a bite. While the child watched, she made sure to gulp a bit of the milk down.

“Merry Christmas, now go to sleep,” she grumbled.

Thankfully as soon as she stepped into the fireplace, she was pulled up by the bag and found herself standing on the roof again.

Dustin perked up when he saw her. “How was it? How’d you get back up?”

“Christmas magic, Dusty buns, obviously,” she sassed.

Once she was sitting down the reindeer took off, but stopped at another house. “The bag is empty, guys! I-“ she picked up the sack to show them but found it heavy once more. “Oh man, this is going to be a long night.”

“Yeah, the best night ever!”

The novelty wore off at some point for Dustin, who curled up on the seat and fell asleep. Stevie rolled her eyes, figures.

“Oh shit, wake up dude, look at this!” She elbowed him until he blearily peeked one eye open. They’d stopped again, but this time not at anyone’s house. There wasn’t much to see, snow whipping around them. It felt familiar somehow, like a strange sense of Deja vu. But she’d clearly never been here before.

The reindeer took off, leaving the sleigh in the wind. “Hey! Take us home!” She looked finally down at Dustin who could only shrug.

“Look!” He pointed out into the horizon. She blinked the snow from her eyelashes, then rubbed her fists into her eyes. It couldn’t be. “It’s an elf!”

Whatever the stranger did, the sleigh was then lowered into a vast room full of people and noise.

“Santa’s workshop! I wish I had a camera!” Dustin whispered excitedly, looking around like he was instead trying to memorize every inch of the room.

“Excuse me,” Stevie called once they’d reached the ground. “Who’s in charge here?”

Deadpan, the closest person said, “You are.” Before walking quickly away.

“This is all such an amazing practical joke, but I’m ready to go back to reality now.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” A deep voice came from behind her. She spun, and gulped as the coat around her opened and she was reminded of her crop top and high waisted leggings as the attractive man’s eyes wandered over her.

He was a couple inches taller than Stevie, who was already towering over all of the people around them. The long dark wavy hair cascading past his shoulders over his dark flannel shirt gave him a grungier look than everyone else in the room in their more flashy outfits. What stole most of Stevie’s attention however were his dark eyelashes outlining his chocolate brown eyes.

“Who are you?” Dustin asked.

“Eddie,” he said shortly. “And you are?”

“Dustin. Dustin Henderson.”

“Of course you are,” Eddie grinned, his eyes never leaving Stevie. “Okay Santa, lets get you more comfortable.”

“I’m not Santa,” she argued, but he had turned and was already walking away. She had to almost jog to keep up with him. “If that’s the problem, Dustin was the one who made him fall, I had nothing to do with it.”

“That’s not true!”

“You read the card, correct?”

“What card?”

Eddie huffed and pulled them into a room. “The card in the Santa suit. In putting the suit on, you fell subject to the Santa clause. You accepted the contract.”

She stared at him. “The contract? It was a tiny frolicking- filibustering- what?”

He smirked at her. “It’s Santa’s workshop, babe. No swearing.”

“You’ve gotta be sleighing me. Jiminy Christmas.”

Dustin piped up again, “How did she sign a contract? It was just a tiny card. She didn't do anything.”

“Thank you, Dustin. Do you have it?”

Stevie glared at them but stuck her hands in the pockets of the pants and pulled out the card in question. Eddie took it from her and placed it behind a magnifier on the table. “What does this have to do with the guy who fell off my roof?”

“Nothing, now. This isn’t about Santa Claus, the person, but Santa clause, the clause.”

“My brain is going to explode,” Stevie grumbled.

“It’s all here — In putting on this suit and entering the sleigh, the wearer waives any and all rights to any previous identity, real or implied, and fully accepts the duties and responsibilities of Santa Claus,” Eddie recited as the words without looking as she followed along on the card.

“What does that mean?” She asked, knowing the answer.

“It means, you put on the suit, so you’re Santa.” He let his eyes wander down her again. “Albeit not the usual type, but you’ll do. Let me show you to your room.” They looked at each other for a long moment before he held the door open for them.

As they walked down a winding hallway, he continued. “You’ll leave tomorrow morning. You have eleven months to get your personal affairs in order and you’ll be expected back here after Thanksgiving. I’ll send the list to your house.”

“The list? What list?”

Dustin again helpfully supplied, “You know! He’s checking it twice? Gunna find out who’s naughty and nice!”

The crowd of elves continued the song loudly, echoing around the huge space. “Santa Claus is coming to town!”

Eddie yelled menacingly, “Alright, get back to work!” Then he turned and winked at her. “This way, c’mon.”

The room was the coziest place she’d ever seen, full of soft fabrics and toys, the bed made up with more pillows and blankets than she could count. Dustin immediately crawled into a play tent in the corner and was snoring before Eddie appeared again with a pile of clothes.

“You’re not what I expected,” he murmured as she wandered over to the window.

She laughed, a little sardonically. “I get that a lot.”

Eddie looked upset for a moment, then it was gone before she could study him. “Not in a bad way, of course. Unfortunately it’s been centuries of boring old guys. I look forward to seeing what you bring to the position.”

She got lost in his sparkly eyes and he moved closer, seemingly just as interested. However as soon as she thought he’d lean all the way, he pulled back and shoved the clothes into her chest.

“Get some rest, Santa,” he said with a smile.

“It’s Stevie.”

The smell of coffee woke her, and when she stretched she almost toppled off the couch.

Wait. The couch?

“Morning, Stevie dear. How was your night? I hope Dustin didn’t give you too much trouble.”

She looked around, nothing seemed out of place at the Henderson’s. The tree, the sounds of Claudia tinkering around in the kitchen. Then Dustin made his appearance by sprinting down the hall and sliding on his socks through the dining room.

“Oh my god! You’re still here, and you’re in the pajamas!”

Claudia came out to see what all the fuss was. “Oh yes, very festive pajamas, honey. Did you bring those with you?”

Stevie looked down at herself, confused. She’d gone to sleep in her own clothes. Seeing the red satiny set made her jaw drop.

“It was real! Mom, last night Santa came! He fell of our roof and Stevie put on his suit and we delivered the rest of the presents! She’s the new Santa Claus! It was awesome! We went to the North Pole and we met the elves-”

They both stared at his mom as she held a hand up. She sent an unrecognizable look to Stevie and she knew she was in trouble.

“No, Dustin, it must’ve just been a weird dream. Maybe we ate too fast, or-“

He cut her off, running back to his room with a shout.

“Look at this! How is this not real?”

Stevie had to walk around his mom to see what he was holding. It was a gorgeous, old fashioned snow globe. As they all watched, Dustin shook it and a tiny sleigh pulled by reindeer flew across the atmosphere.

“Eddie gave it to me. He told me I had to take very good care of it for him,” he explained seriously.

Claudia seemed even more concerned now, understandably. “Eddie? You brought a boy over here?”

“He’s not a boy, mom! He’s an elf! And no, we met him at the North Pole!”

Stevie could only stare at Claudia, unable to come up with any excuse whatsoever for this. “I-I’m sorry, Mrs. Henderson, this is all my fault. He got into some candy last night and we read ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas, he probably stayed up too late and had a strange dream. I promise nothing bad happened, and we didn’t have any guests over.”

“But Stevie!” Dustin stomped his foot and she immediately shook her head at him, begging him with her eyes to stop arguing.

“No, it’s okay, buddy.” She swallowed past the lump in her throat then looked back at Claudia. “And, I’ll understand if you don’t want me watch Dustin anymore. I’ll, uh,” she shook her head sadly. She wasn’t sure where the rest of her stuff was, or where the clothes she had changed out of were.

Claudia sent Dustin to his room, and Stevie went home feeling miserable. What in the world had happened last night?

The next few months were intense. She couldn’t go anywhere without people staring at her, Claudia and Dustin were distant, and she was having very vivid dreams.

Claudia had taken it about as well as could be expected, for your eight year old to be obsessed with the idea that his babysitter was now Santa and talking about it and the North Pole throughout the spring, even after several adults sat him down to try to reason it out with him. Stevie had gotten this information from Nancy, whose mom had been called in as part of an emergency mom group to provide backup.

Stevie herself was changing. She’d gained about thirty pounds, but most of it went to her boobs, hips and ass. Everyone in town assumed she had been getting work done. She couldn’t very well explain what was happening, so she had to ignore all the whispers behind her back and the dirty looks. Her hair was suddenly lighter, too. It wouldn’t hold dye at all, creepily reverting back to the white blonde waves by the next day every time she tried.

Then there were the dreams. A lot centered on delivering the toys, speaking with children and elves about toys, but there were a handful of others — where Eddie was featured — and they were unlike any dreams she’d ever had before. She’d wake up and her body would be sore and achy like she’d run a marathon in her sleep.

“Thinking of me again, sweets?” Eddie’s deep voice rumbled against her neck as he stepped up behind her, wrapping his hands around her waist.

“Always,” she murmured happily before turning in his arms and meeting his lips.

It wasn’t long before their clothes disappeared in dream efficiency, and she was crying out as she was taken apart over and over.

Just as she had convinced herself that she was going insane, there was a knock on the door. A delivery man held a clipboard out to her and she scribbled her name without looking too closely.

The phone rang in the other room and she called out for the guy, “Just put it inside here, please.”

After a few minutes on the phone, she realized she could still hear boxes being set down.

“What is all of this?” She walked back into the entryway to stacks and stacks of red shiny boxes, some as tall as she was.

The delivery guy was walking down the stairs of her apartment, waving to her. “Wait!”

But she sighed. Just her luck.

Going back inside, found a box that had an envelope attached. Here’s the list. Check it — twice! Yours, E

“Ugh, that bastard, how am I supposed to-“ she screamed as someone tapped on her shoulder. Spinning around, she was met with the smarmy grin of one particularly attractive elf. “Oh fuck, Eddie,” she gasped.

He stepped closer, flashing a grin at her and letting his eyes drift over her figure. “I do like the sound of that, sugar.”

She covered a moan with a small cough as the now familiar swoop in her belly made her think of her dreams.

“Do you happen to have, like, powers?” Stevie looked at him seriously.

He pushed her hair over her shoulder, tracing a finger down her jaw, making her shiver. “I like the new look, by the way. Suits you.”

“That isn’t an answer, you know,” she huffed. Her attention was drawn to the boxes around them. “Could you use your fancy magic powers to maybe, move these? Or shrink them? Robin already thinks I’m actually losing my mind.”

Eddie tapped his chin with a long finger, “I could, maybe. Where would you like them? Hypothetically, of course.”

“My bedroom?” She regretted it as soon as a feral grin appeared on his face. But where else could they go?

“Inviting me into your bedroom? Seems naughty.”

She shouldn’t have been shocked, but magically they were standing in her bedroom and all the boxes were stacked neatly against the far wall.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” he shrugged a shoulder, his eyes wandering down her figure. “Now back to the topic at hand. I think you’re the only new Santa who looks better after their transformation.”

Stevie felt her cheeks heat, feeling underdressed in her own bedroom as Eddie continued staring at her.

The feeling that always plagued her when she’d gotten this far with someone before crept up. She looked away, not wanting to ruin this but wanting to be clear from the beginning. It wasn’t as if Eddie knew her very well, or had been privy to the things she’d been dreaming.

“Uh, there’s probably something you should know, Eddie. A-about me, I mean,” she couldn’t look at him.

He reached for her though, tipping her chin up to look at him fully. “I think I might know already,” he said softly. “Dustin may have given me the shovel talk before you left on Christmas.”

“Oh.”

He spent another long moment staring into her eyes, while she was unsure of what to do next. “So, you don’t mind?”

Eddie shook his head, inching impossibly closer. “Definitely do not mind. I think you were made just for me, if I’m being honest.” He finally closed the gap between them, and Stevie gasped as her lips tingled against his.

Pulling back a tiny amount, he chuckled against her. “Sorry, elf magic. It’s hard to hold back, especially when I’m all worked up.”

Stevie shrugged and closed the distance again. It took another second before something sparked in her memory. “Hey, you wouldn’t be able to mess with dreams, would you?”

He winked and simply said, “I plead the fifth,” before pulling her closer by her waist and deepening the kiss.

His hands started wandering and she gasped again as the tingling spread wherever he touched. She had to pull away as he cupped her breasts through her thin cami, panting against his shoulder.

As his hands starting traveling down, a strange buzzing startled them.

“Nutcrackers,” Eddie swore. She giggled but then tried to see what he was looking at. A tiny pager-like object in his hand was blinking red and green. “I have to go. Read over the list and I’ll see you before you know it.”

She tried to hide her disappointment as she pulled him into another slow teasing kiss.

As the holidays approached, she slowly started realizing this may be real. She knew kids names without asking and knew if they were on the nice list or naughty list. Sometimes even adults. She had crazy sweets cravings, making more cookies in a week than she’d ever made in her life.

“What is happening with you?” Robin asked again as she walked into the kitchen to find her baking again.

“Sweet tooth, what can I say?”

Her roommate eyed her suspiciously. “Uh huh. You still think all of this is just side effects of your new meds? Maybe you should call your doctor back.”

“Yeah, maybe I should make an appointment,” she offered.

“Your hair looks even lighter than it did this morning when I left.”

Stevie hummed and set the timer for her cookies.

Pack whatever you can’t live without, I’m Santanapping you tomorrow. XO -E

She grinned at the note left on her bed, trying to decide what that meant.

At noon the next day, she blinked and almost fell over as she was standing in the cozy room at the North Pole instead of her apartment.

“Welcome home, honey,” Eddie teased her, coming up behind her and pulling her hair away from her neck to place his mouth there.

“You could’ve warned me, what if I was in the shower or something?”

His hands grabbed her waist and pulled her back into him. “You’re right, next time I’ll have to plan better. Bring you wet and dripping right to me,” he promised darkly.

“Oh frost, I mean- that’s going to get really old,” she whined.

“You get used to it, I’m afraid,” he laughed. “But you’re right. Come with me.”

They did garner some stares as he lead her hand in hand down the hall, but a quick glare or reminder to get to work from Eddie made the elves scatter.

Just as she was about to ask where he was taking her, he put his finger up to his lips and quietly opened a heavy door, pulling her inside.

Staying quiet, they got past a few elves in what she could now see was a stable. He grinned at her and pulled her up into a smaller sleigh.

“Push this for me, sweetness,” he asked, pointing to a handle.

“Me?” He nodded at her and she complied, the sleigh starting forward as she did. “Holy snowballs.”

She flew the sleigh out the doors and above a snowy landscape. “This is amazing,” she breathed.

“I think you’re a bad influence on me,” Eddie chuckled.

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, one of us definitely is.”

“Stop anywhere you’d like,” he suggested.

“Oh yeah…” She’d almost forgotten their adventure had been for a purpose. She let up on the handle, slowing down to look around for a spot.

Finally the sleigh settled in a small clearing surrounded by a ridge and trees.

“Very nice. You went secluded, I’d have thought you were a bit more of a show off.”

She laughed. “Maybe next time,” she teased.

“Oh really?” Eddie sassed back before pulling her to straddle his lap.

Predictably even though the sleigh wasn’t covered, they stayed warm and the wind didn’t touch them. She assumed it was the sleigh, but it also could’ve been Eddie.

His hands went to her waist, but quickly settled instead cupping her ass. “Can I compliment you again on your new Santa figure? I swear it’s like you’re my very own Christmas present. Maybe after seven hundred years I get something after all.”

Stevie pulled back to look at his face. “Seven hundred years?”

He laughed, nodding, but his eyes were serious. “Don’t look at me like that, most elves live thousands of years. I promise I’m not like robbing the cradle or anything.”

She glared at him. “That wasn’t really what I was thinking. I do like older men, for the record.”

He met her glare, pulling her closer. “Well I guess that settles it then. For the record, I’ve never done this with a human, much less a Santa.”

“Awww, a newbie, huh?” She stuck her tongue out and he leaned forward to nip at it.

“Watch it, baby.”

“Or what?”

She squeaked as her clothes disappeared with a snap of his fingers. Even though the cold wind wasn’t able to reach them, her nipples hardened and she got goosebumps.

“So gorgeous, Stevie,” he drawled, letting his gaze drag down her form. After a moment of enjoying the attention, she began pulling at his shirt, earning a small laugh as he shrugged out of his layers.

He was pale, his dark hair making his skin seem even lighter. She briefly wished they had a mirror, her light hair against his dark would be beautiful. He hung onto her tightly, then she realized his legs were bare.

“Couldn’t wait any longer,” he explained. She rocked forward and they both cried out as their lengths slid against each other.

He leaned down to suck a nipple into his mouth and she groaned. “Fuck yes,” then she giggled once she realized she could swear again.

“There’s my girl,” he murmured. She rutted against him harder, but then backed off.

“Do you have, um, did you bring any-“

“Don’t need it.” He snapped his fingers again and her eyes rolled back. He slid two fingers around her hole, where it was already slick and ready.

“Oh my god,” she panted.

“Just Eddie will be fine, princess,” he teased.

She groaned, pulling herself up with her hands on his shoulders. “Please fuck me already.”

Together they angled his cock so she could lower herself onto it, their mouths meeting as they settled into a rhythm. He apparently couldn’t help but squeeze at her, his hands never staying in one place. The tingling sensation traveling around her body was driving her closer and closer.

“Wait,” Stevie gasped.

He stopped, holding onto her and gazing up at her with his sparkly eyes. It took her a moment to remember what she wanted.

“Wanna, um, can we-?”

“Anything, beautiful,” he groaned.

She slid off of his lap, turning around to bend over the front of the sleigh. “Fuck, you’re perfect, baby. Look at you,” he growled as he stood. He grabbed handfuls of her cheeks and spread them, staring down at her hole before lining back up.

Unable to hold back, he pushed in roughly, Stevie having to hold on so he didn’t send her flying out of the sleigh. This angle was sending lightning up her spine with every thrust, and as she got closer, Eddie reached around to wrap a rough hand around her dick. The tingling was multiplied now and she knew she wouldn’t last.

“Gunna, oh fuck Eddie, coming!”

He made a low keening noise as she clenched around him as she came, and after a few thrusts she felt him spill inside of her.

When she opened her eyes again, they were cuddled together in the huge bed back in the workshop.

“A girl could get used to this,” she murmured.

To be continued?

Divider credits to @/strangergraphics

#stevieweek #stranger things #steddie #transfem steve harrington #stevie harrington #Santa Stevie #elf Eddie #mine

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