#okay so these four do need a little of explanation

[jianqzai]

...like son [2/2]

Like father [1/2]

[lightsoutnaway]

A Whole Family

PAIRING: Lando Norris x single mom! reader

WARNINGS: none!

SUMMARY: Lando meets your daughter when you need a last minute baby sitter.

WORD COUNT: 1,305

Your heart was going a mile a minute. You had just been called into work, but you were taking care of your daughter that day. You had called everyone you could think of. Your sister and mother were out of town together. Your usual babysitter already had a job for the day. Your best friend was at work as well. You had one last person to call, but you were worried about it.

You and Lando had been dating almost four months, but you still hadn’t introduced him to your daughter. It was a big step that you weren’t sure if you were ready for. You weren’t sure if Lando or your daughter were ready for it either, but it didn’t seem you had a choice anymore. You nervously pressed Lando’s contact and lifted the phone to your ear.

“Hey, baby,” Lando’s sweet voice came through the phone.

“Can I ask you for a really big favor?” You asked.

“Anything for you, love,” Lando assured you.

“Can you watch Ada?” You asked. “I know I’ve never introduced you before, but my boss just called and I have to go in and I can’t find anyone else,” you rambled. Lando’s heart was racing, but he wasn’t going to say ‘no’ to you.

“Yeah, I can do that,” Lando assured you. “Do you want me to come over there?” He asked.

“That would be great,” you said. “It would save me a little time.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes. Don’t stress, baby,” he said. Lando’s heart was still racing when he knocked on the door to your apartment. He wanted to be a part of your life. If your daughter didn’t like him, how was he supposed to make that happen? Most kids liked him, but your daughter was more important than any other kid had been to him and he hadn’t even met her.

“Thank you so much,” you said as you opened the door.

“It’s no problem,” Lando said.

“I really wish I could stay and talk for a few minutes, but I’m already late. She’s in her room. Just don’t let her make too big of a mess,” you said. You kissed his cheek before rushing past him. Lando stood dumbfounded in your entryway. He had taken care of kids before, but he was expecting a little more explanation before you left. He locked your door and then slowly walked towards your daughter’s bedroom. He had never been in it before, but he’d been to your apartment enough times to know where it was. He knocked on the doorframe when he got there.

“Hi, Ada,” Lando greeted. Your daughter turned to look over her shoulder. She was sitting at a small table with a toy tea set in front of her. She was wearing a pink princess dress and had a glittery plastic tiara on her head.

“You’re mommy’s boyfriend?” Ada asked. Lando chuckled.

“Yeah, my name’s Lando,” he said.

“Mommy told me to be good because she likes you,” Ada said. Lando blushed, your daughter oblivious to how much that meant to him.

“I like her too,” Lando replied.

“Do you want to have tea with me?” Ada asked. Lando nodded.

“I’d love to,” he answered. He started to move towards the other tiny chair beside Ada.

“Stop!” She shouted. Lando froze and looked at her. “It’s a princess tea party,” your daughter explained. “You have to be a princess first.” She got up and hurried towards one of the drawers in her room. She pulled out a set of play makeup, another crown and a pink feather boa. Without hesitation Lando took the crown and boa from her.

“Are you going to do my makeup? I don’t know how,” Lando said. Ada giggled with joy.

“Okay!” She agreed. Lando sat as still as he could while your daughter jabbed his face with her different brushes. She put cheap blue eyeshadow on him followed by glitter on his cheeks and messy red lipstick.

“Am I ready?” Lando asked. Ada nodded. She quickly put the makeup away and then sat back at the tea table.

“Now we can have tea,” she said. Lando chuckled. Your daughter was just as sassy as you were. Lando spent the next hour playing pretend with your daughter. He liked her. She was sweet, funny, and smart. She liked him right back. He went along with all her games and joked with her.

You walked into your daughter’s room to find Lando still sitting at the tea table and your daughter laughing loudly at something he said. Lando looked up at you.

“Hey,” he greeted. You broke out into a smile. He looked absolutely ridiculous but you loved it. Your daughter noticed you and jumped up, running towards you. She threw her arms around your legs and you leaned down to hug her as well.

“Hi, sweetheart,” you greeted. “Did you have fun with Lando?” You asked.

“Yes! Lando let me make him a princess and we had a princess tea party,” she told you.

“He looks very pretty, you did a good job,” you told her. Lando stood up.

“No, don’t leave!” Ada begged.

“It’s dinner time, Ada. I don’t know if Lando can stay,” you said.

“I can,” Lando told you. “If that’s okay.” You smiled at him.

“Yeah, it’s okay,” you replied. You looked at Ada. “Clean your toys up while Lando and I start dinner.” Lando followed you out to the kitchen. He grabbed your waist once you had gotten out of Ada’s view. You turned around and leaned back against the counter, pulling him with you as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Thank you, Lan,” you whispered.

“I’m actually Princess Lando now,” he replied with a smile. You laughed. “She’s just like you,” Lando added. You smiled.

“You like her?” You asked hopefully.

“She’s amazing,” Lando said.

“She definitely likes you,” you said as you wiped some lipstick off his chin. Lando looked at your lips, but hesitated. He didn’t want to make Ada uncomfortable. You noticed and leaned towards him, giving him a chaste kiss.

“Her dad’s picking her up after dinner,” you told Lando. “Maybe you could spend the night?” You offered.

“Of course,” he agreed. You looked at him thoughtfully.

“I’m taking Ada to the aquarium this weekend,” you said. “Would you like to come?” You asked nervously. Lando’s face brightened up.

“That sounds great. I can pick you guys up,” he said.

“Oh, she actually needs her car seat and I don’t have another,” you said.

“I’ll get one,” Lando told you.

“You would put a car seat in your Mclaren?” You questioned.

“Not the Mclaren,” he answered. “I’ll put it in the Mercedes. It’s safer and there’s more room in the back seat.” You grinned.

“You’re incredible,” you gushed.

“She’s incredible,” Lando replied.

“I’m glad you like her,” you admitted. “I didn’t really want to introduce you this way.”

“It wasn’t how I was expecting it, but I’ve been wanting to meet her. I know you were nervous about it,” Lando told you.

“She’s just a big part of my life and…you are too now,” you confessed.

“I was worried she wouldn’t like me,” Lando admitted.

“We were both worried for nothing I guess,” you said. Just then Ada bounded into the kitchen. She sat at the table and looked over at the two of you.

“I want spaghetti!” She exclaimed. Both of you laughed at her enthusiasm.

“Spaghetti it is,” you answered. Lando was already going for the pots to help. You smiled when you realized he already knew his way around your kitchen. He was a part of your home and your daughter adored him. You couldn’t stop your heart from bursting as you realized you had a whole family in your house again.

[themultifanshipper]

Oscar had blabbed. That’s the only explanation you could come up with at the moment, given the position you found yourself in, kneeling at your friends’ feet.

It’s 4am, leave me alone. Inspired by these pics

Warnings: blowjobs, sex, threesome, one mention of yolo, and if you don’t like cum, probably don’t read this, it’s filthy (literally), PinV sex at the end

Alex and Logan had been eyeing you up all week. At first, they seemed to be glancing in your direction constantly, head movements catching your attention, but as soon as you’d look back at them they would avert their eyes. Then you noticed that they were staring at you for longer periods of time from across the room, seemingly unaware of what they were doing until they’d snap out of it on their own. But yesterday, that was when you saw their gazes shift into something else. Before they ranged from blank to vaguely curious, but yesterday, they looked hungry. It sent a shiver down your spine the first time. Now you just found it downright confusing, wondering what could have possessed them to start looking at you that way.

That night you were at your best pal Oscar’s place in Monaco, having just given him a congratulatory blowjob for his performance in the race (Oscar always said you were the best he’d ever known at giving head), and you decided to tell him.

“You know, Alex and Logan have been acting real weird lately” you called from the bathroom.

“Yeah? In what way?” he replied, in bed scrolling on his phone.

“Well… at first they just started staring at me, I think unconsciously, but now they’ve started looking at me like they want to eat me or something. ”

‘Shit!’ he thought. You couldn’t see him, but his eyes widened and he immediately started typing out a message to the boys: "what the fuck guys? Stop staring at her it’s weirding her out!"

“What do you mean?” he asked you, managing to keep his voice level.

“I don’t know… like- I’ve only ever seen that look when someone wants to rail me, you know? But it can’t be that, right?” You came out of the bathroom and Oscar turned his phone off a little too quickly, which confused you, but you were too tired to question it at that moment as you crawled into bed and snuggled up to him.

“Nah probably not, maybe you’re imagining things?” he tried, you didn’t bite.

“Absolutely not. We’re flying with them tomorrow, then you can see for yourself.”

The next morning when you woke up, you saw that you’d been added to a three way group chat with the two Williams drivers. You had two messages:

Alex: ‘We need to talk to you, privately”

Logan: ‘It’s nothing too serious tho dw <3’

‘Thank god for Logan’ you thought. Unbeknownst to you, they had been bickering all morning about how to broach the subject.

You would all be meeting at Nice airport to get a jet together so you didn’t have to wait too long for answers.

The four of you were alone on the jet, and when Logan got up to go to the bathroom, you glanced at him and he motioned for you to follow him.

'Okay, here we go' you thought nervously.

He closed the door behind you and you stared at him waiting for him to speak first, but he just stood there fidgeting nervously so you broke the silence.

"So what did you need to talk to me about?"

The room was relatively cramped so you were rather close, closer than you were used to, and you were able to count the freckles that dusted his face as you waited for an answer.

Instead of doing so however, he surged forward and kissed you. Which was confusing, but to be fair you weren’t going to start asking questions, as his lips were softly trailing over your jaw, making you let out a shaky breath.

“I’ve been thinking about this all week” he mumbled into your neck.

Before you even had time to form a response, the door slid open and there stood Alex, with a massive smirk on his face at the sight of you two.

“Started without me Logan? Bastard.”

He stepped inside and closed the door behind him, as you stood there, half pressed against the sink by Logan’s hips, and very confused at was on earth was going on.

Alex came and pressed a light kiss to your temple before tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Are you okay with this?”

You nodded, not even sure what ‘this’ was but, yolo, as the kids say.

So he plastered his body to your side and turned your head to kiss you, as Logan started trailing downwards, taking the waistband of your joggers with him. He gasped loudly as he very quickly realized you hadn’t put any underwear on underneath. You glanced down and raised an eyebrow at him.

“What? I travel comfy!”

Logan didn’t even hear you as he was already trailing kisses all over your thighs, lifting one of them and hooking it over his shoulder. His fingers spread you as he licked a broad stripe from your perineum to your clit, making you shudder in anticipation.

Alex’s hand on your jaw brought your mouth back to his, and his other hand snuck under your top to play with your breasts, making you keen under his touch.

One of your hands was in Logan’s hair as he lapped up your juices, getting his face soaked in the process, the other was making its way into Alex’s pants to grab hold of his cock, which had been hard ever since he saw you get up to follow Logan to the bathroom.

Your movements were uncoordinated as you were getting closer to orgasm on Logan’s tongue (and fingers that had since joined the party), and when you came, Alex had to put his hand over your mouth to muffle the loud moans that threatened to spill from you.

Logan stood up, a fucked out expression on his face, and licked his lips before grabbing Alex by the hair and crashing their lips together, Alex groaning into his mouth at the taste of you on his tongue.

You took their distraction as an opportunity to get down on your knees and unbuckle Logan’s pants, immediately getting his cock out and licking a long stripe form base to tip.

That made him shudder and he moaned into Alex’s mouth, the two of them still going at it, so you took him deeper and deeper, alternating expertly between breathing through your nose and swallowing, and you took Alex out of his pants to start stroking him at the same pace.

It eventually got too intense for poor Logan as he grabbed your hair and pulled you off him.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come too fast if you keep going like that.”

Alex grinned at him, then down at you. “You really are the best then, yeah?”

Your brain didn’t even register the implications behind that statement as you took Alex into your mouth, down to the base in one go, as if to say ‘see for yourself’.

You alternated between the two of them, getting them to the edge before pulling off to breath properly before switching. At some point they had started kissing again, groaning into each other’s mouths and running their hands through each other’s hair.

Then, without warning, the door opened and there stood Oscar, smug as anything.

“Well well well, what’s all this then?”

The image of George briefly flashed in your collective minds.

You pulled off with an obscene pop and looked up at the other two boys.

What sight the three of you made, you on the floor with tears running down your cheeks, Alex and Logan flushed and messy, hair sticking up and looking fucked out, with their cocks out.

That’s when it all clicked. The looks, Oscar’s avoidance, this whole mess in the bathroom.

Oscar must have blabbed about your activities to them.

You turned to the man in question.

“Did you plan this?!”

He laughed. “No one could have planned this. But I did mention to them how good you are for me, and I’m certainly enjoying the show. Do carry on, that looks painful.” he said, gesturing to where Alex and Logan were still hard, and leaking all over themselves. You looked at them in disbelief.

“Are you enjoying this? Being watched by your best friend while you’re getting sucked off?”

They had the audacity to look bashful, and it also kind of did it for you. So you slowly took Logan back into your mouth and Alex in your hand and they groaned in unison. You savoured every second of it, even the sound of Oscar’s breath hitching as he inevitably started touching himself in time with your pace, made you wet.

As the three men got closer, their noises got louder and Alex asked “Where?”

Oscar answered for you. “If you ask nicely she’ll let you come anywhere you want”

The two others groaned and quickly rushed out “Can I come on your tits?” and “On your face, please?”

You nodded at them, and they started jerked off hard and fast, aiming at your face and breasts as you closed your eyes and stuck your tongue out. Alex came a couple of seconds before Logan, painting your face in streaks of white, most of it landing on your tongue, then you felt another load land on your chest as Logan whined out his orgasm.

As Logan caught his breath, Alex pulled you to your feet and kissed you sweetly as a thank you, before he leaned down and started working his tongue over where Logan’s cum streaked your skin, making you gasp. Then Logan came closer and started licking Alex’s cum off your face. It was hands down the weirdest situation you’d ever been in, but it was hot as fuck. That was made obvious by how Oscar groaned behind you, still working over his cock at a leisurely pace.

“What a sight you three make. If Lando were here he would cream his pants…”

You huffed “I’m sure he would, but you’re certainly not going to tell him about this, right?”

His eyes twinkled “We’re meeting him for lunch tomorrow in Montreal.”

The other two finished cleaning you up and got you (and themselves) dressed again, kissed you one last time, Logan giving you a quick tap on the ass, before leaving you and Oscar alone.

“You mind getting on your knees one last time for me, baby?”

“Anything for you, Osc” You smiled, but before you could move, he grabbed your arm.

“Actually… I want to make you feel good too.” He glanced at the mirror. “Stand in front of the sink, hands on the mirror.”

You obliged, planting yourself firmly before he pulled down your pants, already having noticed your lack of underwear earlier, and pushed a couple of fingers into you.

“God, baby, you’re dripping.”

“I know that, just get your dick in me!”

He chuckled and lined himself up, bottoming out in one go.

“Fuck- so warm and tight, just for me” he groaned and kissed your neck before grabbing your hips tight, and pounding into you.

The angle made it so that he hit your g spot on every thrust, getting you close to the edge in record time, your loud moans spurring him on to go harder.

You came together, panting and coming down from your highs with him wrapped around you, breathing into your neck.

Logan and Alex were in the cabin, listening to yours and Oscar’s needy moans as they squirmed in their seats. They were wondering if maybe next time, Oscar would let them fuck you.

[pretty-circa006]

Dumb Little Slut

Negan x F! Reader

summary It was a stupid mistake, really, but she didn't think Negan would get this mad at her.

tags rough sex, boot worship, gagging, spanking, choking, unprotected p in v, creampie, squirting, crying and dacryphilia, degradation and name calling, mild dub-con

wc 1.3k

note i totally forgot i had an ao3 account where i uploaded this fic, so when i remembered, of course the first thing i did was cross post it here! fair warning, this is something i would consider dark.

*you are responsible for your own content consumption. if this is something you DO NOT like, simply DO NOT read or interact! :) *

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆ 

With Lucille in hand, Negan sat at the head of the table surrounded by Saviors as he awaited an explanation as to why they only came back with less than half the stuff they were supposed to.

Simon sighed. "One of the workers forgot to close the back of the truck and most of the stuff fell out." 

"Ya couldn't go back and get it?" Negan questioned. 

"We didn't notice until we got back." Negan sighed and ran a hand over his face. He was beyond pissed. Even though The Saviors would be okay without it, he still hated that half his shit was out scattered on the roads somewhere. 

"Who in the hell forgot to close the truck? I want a name and I want it now," he demanded with a slam of the baseball bat to the table. 

"[Name]," Simon said. Negan sighed. He should've known it'd be her. This wasn't the first time she's fucked up this stupidly and it sure as hell wouldn't be the last if he didn't teach her a lesson. 

"Bring her to my room. Dismissed." He stood up and stormed out before the others could. 

...

She nervously stood under Negan's harsh, hazel glare. He was sure she knew why she was here, because the first thing that came out of her were streams of apologies. 

"I-I'm sorry, S-sir! I thought I had closed it, honest!" she sobbed with big teary eyes. He grabbed a fist-full of her hair and forced her head back to make her stare up at him. She winced, which only motivated him to tighten his grip, earning a whimper from her trembling lips. 

"This isn't the first time you've fucked shit up," he growled, a dark look in his eyes. She started crying even harder, which made him smile. He roughly released her hair from his grip. With his gloved hand, he cupped her jaw, his thumb and fingers squeezing her cheeks so hard her lips puffed out. He leaned down to her level, his face barely an inch from hers.  

"Your ass is so damn lucky I don't have that pretty fuckin' face of yours burned," he said lowly. He could feel her quivering in his hold, but she maintained eye contact. 

"T-thank you for not b-burning my face off," she choked out. 

He smiled his charming dimpled smile at her, but his eyes were still dark. With anger or lust, she didn't know, but either way she was afraid. 

"Don't think for a second you're getting off scot free. You know damn well you have to make it up to me." She nodded her head as best she could in his grip. He roughly let go of her jaw and shed off his leather jacket before sitting down in his leather couch. 

"Strip," he ordered once she was standing before him. 

"Y-yes, sir." She unlaced her boots before toeing them off. With trembling hands, she unbuttoned her jeans before stepping out of them along with her panties and pulling her tank top over her head. Negan wolf whistled when he saw she wasn't wearing a bra. Normally, that would've had her all hot and bothered, but this wasn't like the other times she's been called to his bedroom.  

"On your knees." She lowered herself to all fours and crawled over to him. She awaited her next orders like an obedient puppy. 

"Get yourself off on my boot." His boot was relatively clean, considering, so she didn't hesitate to put her bare clit on the toe of his boot. She looked up at him from beneath her lashes with remorseful doe eyes. She began to  grind her hips on the leather, giving her clit the much needed friction.

"You are one filthy slut! Look at you gettin' off on my goddamn boot," he mocked. 

Without warning, Negan shoved his index, middle, and ring finger in her mouth, commanding her to suck, which she did eagerly. Her tongue swirled around the digits before he shoved them as far down her throat as he could, until the rest of his hand stopped him, causing her to gag around his hand.

"Thaaat's it, take it like a good little slut," he simultaneously praised and degraded. 

She continued humping his boot, coating it in her slick as she became more aroused and closer to her orgasm. The coil that built up in her lower belly was so close to bursting and Negan could tell by the garbled moans that came out around his hand. Every now and then, he'd press down on the back of her tongue, causing her to gag and more hot tears to pour down her face, making him grow even harder in his pants. She was about to come, Negan saw all her telltale signs, but this was a punishment and she didn't deserve to.

"Oh no, you don't get to cum, at least not yet!" 

He yanked his hand out, causing her to cough and picked her up from under her arms bent her over his lap. Her hard sensitive nipples against the rough fabric of his pants caused her to moan. He slapped her ass hard enough to leave a handprint before slapping it even harder a few more times. He could see her arousal pouring down her inner thighs. She was enjoying this far more than he'd like her to. 

"N-negan, please!" she begged, earning another slap to the ass. 

"You do not fuckin speak unless I tell you to," he said darkly. He pushed her off his lap and onto the floor before ordering her to crawl to the bed and get on it. He followed behind her as he undid his belt and unbuttoned his pants, freeing his rock hard cock. It sprung up and slapped his abdomen. Negan was huge and she was honestly nervous to take him without prep. He never prepped her when he was angry at her. He stroked it a few times before lining it up with her leaking cunny. He slid his aching red tip up and down her slick slit before sliding himself all the way in and bottoming out from behind. She screamed out in a mix of pain and pleasure. 

"What a slutty pussy, baby," he moaned. He didn't wait for her to adjust to his size and started roughly fucking her with a bruising grip on her hips. As he pounded into her, he roughly kneaded the soft flesh of her ass. Wanton moans escaped her lips with every deep thrust. He tangled his hand in her hair before pulling her head back by it, earning a pained scream from her. His large hand wrapped around her throat, cutting off her oxygen as he got himself off. Her slick, velvety walls clamped down on his girth, a sign she was close. She clawed at Negan's hand, but he only gripped her throat harder. 

"Take it like the goddamned dirty girl you are, doll," Negan encouraged. The sounds and smell of sex filled the bedroom. He removed his hand from her throat when he felt her go limp in his hold. Slightly worried, he turned her onto her back while still balls deep in her pussy. His thrusts slowed as he lightly slapped her face a few times until she woke again.

"Don't go passin' out on me now, babydoll." 

He put her legs over his shoulders, bending her in half as he picked up his rough pace. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she moaned his name repeatedly. He pawed at her tits as they jiggled with each thrust. His dick twitched inside her before he came without warning. He threw his head back as he moaned her name while emptying his white hot seed into her slutty pussy. She shook with her orgasm as she squirted around his now semi-hard cock, wetting his dark comforter. 

"That's my dumb little slut," he praised as he pulled out. His girl was lazily sprawled out on his bed, barely able to keep her tired eyes open as his cum leaked out of her. He sent a playful slap to her already abused cunny. 

"You won't be so lucky next fuckin' time, so I suggest you get your goddamn shit together before you get burned." 

She sleepily mumbled in response, too tired and fucked out for anything. 

this was originally posted on my ao3 account on 4/28/2024. i haven't posted on there since because people don't comment and barely leave kudos 🥲

[rizzanon]

silly little sanaerio that came to me in a dream (literally)

reader tries to sneak out to go to the park with caitlyn and adrien and gets caught by damien

to shut up damien reader takes him with them and they all go park tgt idfk

damien refuses to admit he wanted to just spend time with reader , he wasnt actually gonna snitch

when sneaking back in they all domino onto eachother (reader walks in first then stops beecause ruh roh they got caught) and damien bumps into reader, caitlyn bumps into adrien and eyeah

tgis prollh doesng make sensw idk what im on abt tyoing this half aslddp

-🍰

HELLO WHAT?? I LOVE THIS (although this exact scene won’t happen, i think it’s cute that damian is forcing reader to let him tag along so that he won’t snitch—literally younger sibling core and there will definitely be a moment or two like in this undoing fate (for the bants/fluff) lol)

reader: (quietly tries to sneak toward the back entrance of Wayne Manor, bag slung over your shoulder)

Damian: (from the shadows) And just where do you think you’re going?

reader: (startles, spinning around) Damian?! What the— What are you even doing here?

Damian: (arms crossed) The better question is: what are you doing? Sneaking out like some common criminal. Suspicious, don’t you think?

reader: I’m just going to the park to meet Caitlyn and Adrien, okay? It’s no big deal. Go back to brooding or whatever it is you do.

Damian: Tch. You’re sneaking out to meet those two? Again? Does Father even know about this?

reader: (glaring) Do you know how to mind your own business?

Damian: I could let this slide… or I could inform Father. Imagine his reaction when he hears about this little escapade of yours.

reader: You wouldn’t dare.

Damian: (raising an eyebrow) Try me.

reader: (groaning, pinches the bridge of your nose) Fine. You want to come? You can come. Just don’t ruin it for me, okay?

Damian: …..Hmph. I suppose I could accompany you. Someone has to keep you out of trouble.

reader: (mutters) Yeah, because I’m the one who causes trouble.

(You and Damian reach the park where Adrien and Caitlyn are waiting for you)

Caitlyn: Took you long enough. (gaze shifts to Damian) Oh, you brought company.

Damian: (flatly) I assure you, I did not want to be here. Someone needed to supervise you lot.

reader: (rolling eyes) Oh, please. He just didn’t want me to have fun without him.

Damian: (sharply) I don’t care about your fun. I have better things to do.

Adrien: (teasing) Sure, sure. And yet here you are.

Caitlyn: (grinning) Well, since you’re here, you might as well enjoy it. Or at least try.

Damian: (grumbling) I’m not here to enjoy anything.

[pretend you all hangout at a nearby night fun fair, and afterwards, after much begging, Adrien and Caitlyn managed to convince you to let them crash at the manor for the night]

reader: (whispering) Alright, stay quiet. No one’s around, so if we’re careful, we’re good.

Damian: (scoffing) Speak for yourself. I don’t get caught.

reader: (rolling eyes) Right, because you’re oh-so-perfect.

reader: (steps inside cautiously, but freezes mid-step as you hear someone—) Oh no—

Damian: (not realizing you stopped, walks straight into your back) Watch where you’re—

(Adrien, close behind, bumps into Damian, and Caitlyn crashes into Adrien. It’s a domino effect, leaving all four of you in a heap at the door.)

Adrien: Why do I always end up on the bottom?

Caitlyn: You’re just unlucky, I guess.

Damian: Get off me, you imbeciles!

reader: Shh! You’re gonna—

Alfred: (calmly stepping forward) I trust you all have a good explanation for this?

[All four of you collectively freeze, dread sinking in.]

Adrien: (still on the floor) …I’m just gonna stay down here.

Damian: This is entirely her fault. (points at you)

reader: Yeah, this is going to be a long night….

(i might write a full on oneshot for this lol i actually love this idea)

[toxicanonymity]

ring doorbell 🚪

5400 words, stepdad!Joel x f!reader

stepdad master

Summary: Joel holds it together at a Christmas party, only to show up at your apartment later. WARNINGS: I8+ stepcest, toxic fluff, f masturbation, party-typical alcohol, angst, reader dacryphilia, grinding, unsafe P in V INTERCOURSE FINALLY ❤️‍🔥 (he's clean, I tested him myself), pulling out (this time), big mess of cum. 💦

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Note: not a big deal but white elephant gift /party explanation if you don't know

This is the wk before Xmas week like 12/16/23 yes the whole fic is mildly in the future lmao the exorcist comes out this October.

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You still haven't snapchatted Joel back. After he sends nothing one day, you think about it a lot. You want to send him your own, but you can't decide what to send. You never used to overthink it, but after all this, whatever you send feels like a big deal. The next day, you're lounging on your bed thinking about it when you get a notification.  

[Snapchat: J. has shared a photo with you] 

You've gotten yourself off to Joel's snaps so many times  that as soon as you get the notification, you're throbbing.  You’re also relieved–after going a whole day with nothing from him, you were getting anxious.  It's a rainy day and you're doing nothing, so you get out your silicone Joel but it’s dead.  You change the batteries, silently thanking Joel for his foresight, and fold a towel under you.  Before you open his Snapchat, you get yourself close with nothing but your imagination. 

You imagine him showing up at your door, eyelids red, cheeks still wet with tears, unable to speak he's so desperate for you. Latching onto your lips as he barges into your apartment, hands cradling your head, pulling your face into his. Kissing you like he's starving.  Taking off each other's clothes on the way to your room without a single word spoken until he's on your bed and rasps "I fuckin' need you right now" as he gets between your legs. Tangling your fingers in his hair as his bare chest hovers over yours and his cock hangs heavily onto your mound until he reaches down and puts it where you need it.  His lips on yours again. His tongue pushing into your mouth as he pushes his cock into you.  Your legs wrapping around him as your body swallows his length. Joel pounding into you, moaning that moan you've heard so many times now, his skin against yours, thrusting into you, approaching that moment where he'll give you the biggest load you could imagine. 

At this point, you open the snap, and it's not what you expect. 

Photo: Close-up selfie of his face and bare shoulders. His shoulders are so muscular and tan that it takes you a moment to realize his head is resting on your pillow, in your room (at their house). His eyes are large and his brow is furrowed. He looks tired. Caption: Hope this is okay.  

A lewd snap could follow any minute, but the first one makes you cum.  Just the sight of his face, the face that would be right up against yours with that big, hard, beautiful cock finally inside you. Fuck. You keep staring at his face the whole time you cum.  You almost kiss your fucking phone.  This has gotten that out of hand.  You leave it on read.  It's sweet how he's being careful, almost timid.  But at the same time, bold to go into your room.  Hope this is ok.  You fall asleep, and when you wake up, there's another photo from him, just four minutes earlier. 

Photo (82 min after the first one): Close-up selfie on his side, hair is tousled. Arm looking huge. Eyes weak. Hugging one of your pillows.  The corner is covering his chin and mouth. Caption: Good nap.  

He just wanted to take a nap in your room? Your heart flutters, which is a little uncomfortable, like it's easier when he's just nasty. But you can't deny you like this sweet side of him. He doesn't know it, but you basically just took a nap together.

—------

The next morning, Joel sends another Snapchat.

Video: He's in your bed again, laying on his side shirtless with strong shoulders, muscle cleavage, and sleepy eyes as if he slept there all night. His voice is hushed. "Mornin', beautiful” (he yawns) “So about tonight . . .I'm not gonna make it weird, ok? I'll act normal."

Video (less than a minute later): He's in the same position but holding his phone further out and at an angle and your covers are pulled down so you can see a lot more of his torso. He says, "Hope you're still comin'." 

Later that day

Photo: Mirror selfie in a red and white fair isle sweater and a mostly straight face but his eyes are a little sad. Caption: See? Normal. 

There's a family Christmas party, and you're anxious despite Joel's assurances. Can you act normal? You haven't tried in person since that night with Jacques. If Joel is finally as willing as he seems, for some reason, that makes you nervous. For months now, you've been trying to break him down, often thinking it might never happen. Even with his dick pressed right up against your leggings on Thanksgiving, it felt far away. Now after weeks of no physical contact, it feels closer than ever. And as much as you wanna make your move on Mr. Cant-believe-he-ever-turned-you-down, you're unexpectedly anxious. 

—------

When you get to your cousin's house, both Joel’s SUV and your Mom's car are there.  A small mob greets you at the door.  One of your aunts takes your white elephant gift off your hands. Joel is nearby, quietly sipping a drink.  Looking over another aunt's shoulder as she hugs you, you can see how the sweater hugs Joel's biceps and has polar bears in the pattern.  Does he have to be so cute? As you finish hugging them hello, Joel puts down his drink and tacks himself onto the end of the hug train. 

He looks you in the eye with a subtle smile – sad but hopeful.  He lifts both his arms, meaning this is a full hug and your arms will go around his waist. As you get closer, his scent hits you and you have to physically stop your eyes from closing in pleasure as you inhale through your nose. When you first touch, there's a literal spark. Static electricity. You gasp and he chuckles. Not to be deterred, his scruff brushes your cheek as his big arms wrap around you and squeeze.  This brief moment might be the coziest you've felt all winter. You loosely embrace his waist, and when you pull back, he lets you go. You share a loaded glance, his eyes falling to your mouth as he wets his lips. An aunt comes to beckon you to the kitchen. 

When you glance back over your shoulder, Joel adjusts his glasses and awkwardly hovers near the door. He’s wearing khakis, and his sweater is bunched up above his ass.  Your aunt turns to say something to you and you whip your head back around and say "sorry."  

In the kitchen, your Mom says she feels like she hasn’t seen you in forever. “Sorry I didn’t get to meet Jacques. Joel said I just missed him.”  Joel comes and stands in the door frame, drinking out of his solo cup. 

“That was weeks ago,” you say, not feigning warmth.  

She asks if Jacques is still in the picture, and you shake your head no.  When you glance at Joel, he looks about as satisfied as you expect. He helps change the subject by asking your uncle about golf.  

One of the kids yells from the other room, "Uncle Joel! play Mario Kart with us!" And Joel leaves.

You overhear Joel say, "No cryin' when I beat ya this time." 

Followed by an outraged, "YOU DIDN'T BEAT ME!"

Then Joel says, "Oww!" 

—------

About an hour and a half later, you go outside alone to the deck for some air. The yard is dark. There's a trampoline and a treehouse. You’re leaning back against the wood railing, facing the house.  A lot of the adults are drunk now and the kids are being put to bed.  You want to leave, but the white elephant exchange hasn’t happened and you don’t need everyone asking after you, wondering what happened, whether you’re okay.  You’d rather serve the time at the party. Preferably without being social.

You figure no one will notice if you go up into the treehouse meanwhile. You climb up and use your phone light. There’s a lantern up there.  You turn it on.  There are papers scattered on the floor with crayon drawings of monsters and people including a stick figure with what appears to be a huge dick pointing straight toward the ground and he's urinating on a crowd of smaller stick people.  On another sheet, there’s a snowman with stick people for arms and they don’t look happy. 

The treehouse smells like cedar chips and melted crayons. You can hear the murmur of the party which grows louder as someone opens the door. You sit and scroll your phone, confident no one saw you go up there. You think about snapchatting or texting Joel but wouldn’t want anyone to see it if he’s too drunk to be discreet. 

—--

A twig snaps in the yard.  A few seconds later, the ladder to the treehouse shakes under weighty footsteps and Joel appears in the little door frame. 

"Thought I might find ya here." Fair enough–you weren’t anywhere else. He seems only a little tipsy. "It's almost white elephant time."

You look at each other in silence. His hair is messy. He’s so hot. You can't help but smile. He stays there in the doorframe with his big hands gripping the top of the ladder. 

You break the silence with crude teasing about how he stopped sending you lewd snaps. "What happened yesterday, you didn't nut?" 

He chuckles and looks down shyly.  "Takin'' a break, I guess.  And, uh. Wasn't sure you wanted that stuff.” He looks at you again. “Cause you never reply, so." It doesn’t sound like a complaint, it just sounds a little sad. “Guess I got in my head.”

You nod in understanding then rest your head against the wall again. “Guess I didn’t know what to say.”  

He asks, "But you like it?"

You raise your eyebrows, impressed, and slowly nod.  You say, "I guess practice makes perfect, 'cause damn." You take a deep breath and spread your legs, a symbolic gesture since you're wearing pants. 

He groans softly, making you tingle.  "Christ . .Don't get me hard while I'm on this fuckin' ladder." 

You reach forward and extend your hand to bring him in and out of view of the door. His hand engulfs yours for balance, but he holds his own weight as he crouches into the small structure. Unable to stand, he gets down on his hands and knees and looks around and asks,"Think this thing is stable?" 

"You're the expert." 

He laughs, then it fades and you both seem to realize he's on all fours between your legs. He clears his throat and sits back on his heels. He looks at his watch. 

"Do you, uh, wanna talk? We've got a minute." 

You shake your head. 

"I mean, we prolly should," he says softly,  then clenches his jaw and his eyes seem to weaken when you break eye contact. Ugh, he's so hot and pitiful. You rise to your knees and knee-walk toward him. He lowers his voice, "But we don't have to talk . . .right now." When you've closed the short distance, you watch his eyes glisten and smell the egg nog on his breath. “Maybe later,” he says even softer.  He swallows then cups your face in his hand and looks at your mouth.

After a final glance to your eyes, Joel softly presses his lips into yours and you meet him with the same softness. It makes you lightheaded.  You’ve never kissed each other tenderly before, but it turns you on just as much as if he had ravished you. Because it’s real. He’s really into this, and he’s stayed into it for weeks without taking out any of his self loathing on you, IF he even still hates himself for this. 

Joel's tongue brushes your lips, then you hear the sliding door to the house open in the distance. Your uncle yells "JOEL???" and you pull away.  Joel pulls you back in for a few seconds with one hand behind your ear and another hand on your ass. His khakis press into your jeans and your heart jumps when you feel his cock begin to harden. 

"JOEL! YOU FIND HER?"

You pull away again. He takes a deep breath, looks you over, and adjusts himself as he turns away. The uncle goes back inside.  Joel exits the treehouse first then helps you down the ladder.  As you brush off your knees and butt, he says, "shoulda told me you were comin' out here." 

“Why?” you ask and he brushes himself off as well. 

He hesitates and his face falls.  “I dunno.”  His eyes look more like his sad videos, like his cool facade is cracking.  “I was lookin’ for ya.”  His Adams Apple catches your eye as he swallows.  He puts his massive hand on your back for a moment, ushering you toward the house. 

—---

Your Mom gets too drunk and goes to sleep in a guest bedroom halfway through the white elephant game. Not the first time this has happened. 

You're in a chair and Joel is sitting across the room on a sofa, manspreading. He rests his hand on his inner thigh and your breath hitches. You cross your legs, clench your thighs, and try not to stare, but you feel him looking at you from time to time.

Your cousin’s husband Barry opens the gift you brought.  It’s a sweatshirt that says Cutie. He holds it up to himself and spins around for laughs. Joel glowers. Joel steals it when it's his turn and smiles when everyone laughs. No one steals it from Joel. At the end of the game, you hug everyone goodbye. Your hug with Joel is brief. 

—----

In the middle of the night, your phone wakes you up with a Ring doorbell alert. It’s Joel. He’s wearing the stupid cutie sweatshirt. He adjusts his glasses. He rakes his hand into his hair and looks around in a way that makes you wonder if he might regret coming. You lie there for a minute or two watching the Ring feed, but he just stands there waiting.  He braces his arm on the doorframe. His biceps stretch the sleeves.  You turn your lamp on the dimmest setting and get out of bed. 

You open the front door silently and he steps back as you open it.  His eyes are a little red.  He looks dead serious.  He puts his hand back on the doorframe and the sweatshirt rides up enough to expose a sliver of skin.  His Adam's Apple bobs and he asks hoarsely, “can I come in?”

You look around outside then step back and let him in. 

“I can’t sleep,” he says as he walks into your dark kitchen.  He shakes his head. “can’t sleep after seein’ you.”  His eyes glisten. “Can we talk?” 

You feel your heart rate rising and wonder if he can tell how nervous you are. You’d prefer to break the tension physically, but apparently he has something to say and you’re gonna have to hear it sooner or later.  You turn and walk into your bedroom.  You stack pillows and lie down face up.  If he's not willing to get on your bed at this point, you're not sure if you wanna hear what he has to say after all. 

At first, he stands at the foot of the bed with his hands behind his head, elbows bent forward in distress. Your eyes drift to his exposed happy trail and the way his joggers hug his groin.  “I dunno what the hell’s wrong with me.” He looks toward your window and chokes back tears. Then he kneels on your bed. “You’re never gonna know how sorry I am.” 

“Joel, I know,” you say softly. “C’mere.” You offer space next to you. Instead, he gets between your legs and your heart skips a beat. He lies face-down, with his feet hanging off the bed. His armpits rest on your upper thighs with his elbows and forearms on either side of your hips and torso.  It turns you on of course, yet he doesn't seem to be making a move sexually. 

“I am so, so sorry,” he says. 

“I know,” you say again. “We can move on. I don't wanna keep talk–”

“But,” he says, then pauses and swallows.  His eyes are big and watery.  “I dunno if you get it. How sorry I am.” a tear rolls down his cheek. He wipes it and takes his glasses off.  You reach out your hand to take them and put them on your nightstand. He whispers, “thanks,” as he dabs his eyes with his fingers which only sends the tears to his cheeks.  

“I know you’re sorry, Joel, I get it.” 

“No,” he shakes his head. “I don’t think you get-” He puts his face down on you for a second like he’s dabbing his cheeks on your PJs, then he lifts his head again. While choking back tears, he blurts out, “I’m SO fucked up over you." He blinks and looks away and another tear escapes his eye. "can't even fuckin' sleep except in your bed." He buries his face in your thin cotton PJs.

Now you’re turned all the way on. You take a deep breath as your ache for him deepens.  When you don’t respond, he whispers, “I’m sorry,” then puts the other side of his face down on you, his mouth below your belly button. His tears are dampening your PJs. “I dunno why I’m here,” he mumbles into the bottom hem of your tank top.  Your hips lift into his upper chest once, as though adjusting your position.  He ignores it and continues, “FUCK, i’ve been tryin’ to give ya time.” He looks up at you. “Tried to act normal tonight.” He shakes his head and his brow furrows.

He presses his eyes into your tank top one by one to dry them without using his hands.  “Then i show up in the middle of the fuckin’ night,” he laughs softly at how pathetic this is. It’s taking all your restraint not to rock your hips into him. You’re wet, so wet. 

—-

“Stop. Just c’mere,” you say quietly and open your arms. You lift your hips again. He looks up at you and the distress on his face dissolves.  As he crawls up your body, his big, sweet eyes begin to darken.  He puts his forearms down on the bed on either side of your chest and your eyes connect for a moment. Your lips part.

“You’re so. . .fuck,” he sighs, then presses his lips into yours. Your mouth warmly accepts him. His lips move against yours and he licks into your mouth slowly at first, like he’s savoring every brush of his tongue against yours. Then it becomes needy at a sensual rhythm. 

With your mouths still connected, he shifts his body. The warm bulge in his joggers meets your clothed heat, and then, oh god,  his cock hardens against you.  He softly hums, "mmm" as your mouths move together and he swells harder against you. You're throbbing, aching.  For a second, you wonder if you're having a wet dream (you're not).

There's a different electricity between you now. You can both feel it – He breaks away for a moment and looks at you, breathing heavily, and you can see it in his eyes. He's not crying anymore.  He looks at peace.  He rests his weight on one arm, and his opposite hand slides onto your breast, slowly palming it as his lips move with yours and his growing arousal digs into you. It’s the first time you’ve had his whole body against yours. And fuck, he feels good. It’s the first time you’ve been on a bed together.  That one time on your couch, he said it was dangerous being alone.  This time, he's not stopping, not even slowing down.

He didn’t regret it last time you hooked up, but now there’s a different buzz inside you now. If he ends up regretting it this time, you could get hurt. His rejection never deterred you before, but this time, you feel like it could crush you. You're not even sure why, but you have to somehow acknowledge it before he puts his head between your legs, or whatever he has in mind. 

“You’re sure you wanna. . . do stuff,” you begrudgingly say and inwardly shame yourself for the tremble in your voice. 

“I’m so fuckin’ sure, sweetheart.” 

—--

That's all you need, because you can feel it in his body, too. There’s no part of him that doesn’t want you. Your mouths embrace again and only come apart for heavy breaths and moans as your hips and lips move in rhythm.  His cock grows even stiffer and his hand moves from your breast, down your side. His hands are so big and masculine, but gentle. There’s nothing hesitant about his movements. He grabs your thigh, and you bend your knee. He hikes up your leg and pushes himself harder against you where it counts.   

He slides his hand down your thigh and into your soft sleep shorts, his fingers getting closer and closer to the pool of desire that's begging for him. When his fingertips reach your cunt, you arch your back and whine, pulling your lips away as your head tilts up toward the ceiling. His mouth comes to your breast and dampens your cotton tank top as he tongues your nipple through it. 

"Fuck," you say between heavy breaths.  You've never wanted anyone–or anything–so bad in your life. It's a need. 

You run your hands over his hulking back, feeling the muscles flex on either side of his spine, and curl your fingers under the hem of his sweatshirt.  He takes it off in a flash, his white t-shirt coming with it. He takes off your tank top, then his lips return to yours, his cock grinds into you, and you sigh.  

He breaks the kiss and pauses. His tan shoulders look huge the way he's hovering there over you. 

His voice is weak and hoarse. "Don't want ya to think I came here just to–"

"Shhhh," your hips lift and you moan at his hardness. 

"Ohhh, God," he rolls his hips into yours and sighs your name. He dips his head and noses your neck, then murmurs into your skin, "didn't come here to fuck ya, baby."  His scruff brushes your cheek on his way to look at you again. 

"I know," you say.  God, you need him so bad. 

"Okay," he whispers, then covers your mouth with his again, kissing you hungrily. 

Your lips break away, then you meet his eyes and tell him, "but that's what you're gonna do."

Joel reads your eyes for a moment, breathing heavily.  Then he nods silently and a surge of arousal runs through you.  "Yeah," he nods again. "I am."   

You pull him down so his bare chest is against yours. He kisses you hard with a little bit of tooth, making your lips buzz and your nipples harden against him. He sucks your neck, and his rock-hard cock presses against your clit rhythmically. You throb violently.  Then he whispers in your ear, "'m'gonna fuck ya, sweetheart," drawing a moan from you. 

"Now," you beg. You lift your shoulder blades off the bed, pressing him up with your breasts and stomach.  You reach around to his back and hook your thumbs into the waistband of his joggers. 

"Yeah," he breathes.  You tug down his joggers. He kicks out of them and you observe the massive tent in his boxers with a pang of need from your core through your heart.  He urgently pulls off your sleep shorts, then says "fuck," and takes his boxers off, too. 

You take a deep breath as you stroke your clit and spread yourself open for him. He moans softly at the sight of your fingers at your glistening cunt. He wets his lips as he reaches between your legs. His hand replaces yours, and he sharply inhales.  He spreads your slick around your folds and gently rubs your clit. “Yeah,” he whispers. “Yeah, let’s go.” 

He gets in position and hikes up your leg again. His head falls, putting his messy head of hair in your view.  He watches himself align his cock with your entrance, and your breath hitches at the first touch of the smooth head of his cock.  He begins to push inside with a moan, opening you up with his swollen tip.  Your clit twitches. His hips push forward, giving you more of him, and his mouth falls open as he watches it happen.  You both moan as his cock parts your insides. It’s happening smoothly, without effort, and the stretch is delicious.

Joel pries his gaze away from where your bodies are joined. He locks eyes with you, then plunges to the hilt and shudders as he bottoms out. God, the way his cock fills you up. His eyes glisten and his face looks like he’s in pain, but he’s not.  You catch yourself holding your breath, and you exhale with a whimper. Joel stays all the way inside with his swollen balls against you and closes his eyes, his chest expanding with air. “Jesus, fuck,” he whispers. His chest is heaving.  He opens his eyes and tries to speak. “You feel – god damn. . . you're. . .(a vocal sigh). . you–" 

You cut him off by pulling him in for a kiss. He twitches inside you and you both moan. 

After a moment, he slowly pulls his hips back, then pushes in again. "Mmmm" he moans into your mouth. All the times you’ve imagined this, you never counted on the contact of your bodies and faces together.  You could never have dreamed how full you’d feel. Even after having him in your hand. In your mouth. This feeling is new for you. It’s like he’s shaped just for you. He pulls back, then bottoms out again and groans against your cheek. How is it already the best you’ve ever had? He retreats, then slides all the way in with a punch of his cock as he bottoms out. 

"That okay?" he asks like he doesn't wanna hurt you. 

You nod urgently, "Give it to me."

He thrusts into you harder, working up to about once per second, at first. Breathing heavily, grunting, moaning, vocalizing constantly in one way or another. He kisses your lips, sucks your neck, and lightly bites you as your cunt hugs his cock just right.  He steals downward glances at your body and groans as he watches his glistening cock disappear into you again and again. He gradually ups the pace and intensity until you're whining.  

"Fuck," he sighs, and you whimper. "Too much?"

"Don't hold back," you shake your head. "Don't you dare hold back."

"Oh, baby," he says, then slams into you with all his weight. You asked for it, but you're really not prepared for the other realm he sends you to.  "Fuck MEee," he moans. He pounds into you, grunting each time he buries his cock in your dripping core.   He snaps his hips and kisses you sloppily. Your mouths are half connected and half moaning into each other's cheeks. 

You moan, “Jo–” but stop yourself. 

“S'okay," he pants. "You can say it.”

“Fuck, I–”

“Say it, sweetheart”

“Joel,” you whine.

"Oh, Christ," he pants.

"Fuck, Joel, uggggh–your--"

"Oh, Fuck"

"Feel so–"

"Yeah," he breathes, slamming into you with his weight behind it. “Fuck, baby–yeahhh”.

You feel the pleasure building in your gut and core as he fucks you.  Your sounds must seem increasingly distressed, and so do his. They tumble out of the back of his throat. The tension in your belly tightens. He lowers his chest against yours again. Your arms are around his neck and his forearms squeeze your sides. He manages to fuck you so deep and good, even while he's flat against you. His hips move like a mating animal. 

It hits you like a ton of bricks: This is it. Every other man is ruined for you. How could anything compare? Your own eyes prickle with tears.

Joel tries a few times to say things, but every time it devolves into a moan or guttural sigh. He makes sounds you haven't heard before. 

"Ohhh, fuck," he moans. "I dunno if I can–" 

You open your eyes and the agonized look on his face puts you all the way on the edge. He must be close. 

"Give it to me, Joel."

He pistons into you harder, all his muscles flexing.  You whimper as your thighs tremble. 

"C'mon, baby," he whispers, then he grunts. He growls, "Soak me, baby–ohh–Just fuckin'––nnngh"

You sigh vocally and start to clench around him.  You moan his name, long and drawn out as pleasure seizes you. 

You flutter around his cock and he gasps, "oh, fuck." You gush and groan, your hips lifting into him, mouth hanging open, breathing and whining at once.  

He pants, "Fuck–(a low moan), I wanna fill–ohhhhh, god (heavy breaths). Sweetheart, i really wanna–ahh, shit." He bites his lips together, his cheeks puff out, and his neck vein flexes. You’re still cumming. He grunts from the back of his throat as he pulls out and slaps cock down on your mound. He presses his body against you so his cock rubs your still pulsing clit. 

His cock is nestled between your bodies, and he’s grinding into you when he erupts massively with a shudder from deep in his chest.  His pulsations drag yours out as his cum coats your mound and lower belly. He groans as he slowly, wetly grinds against you. He breathes and gasps for air, still cumming. His cock pulses so powerfully, a hot rope every couple of seconds. 

With the movement of his hips and sliding of his cock, the warmth of his cum spreads around your skin, settling into your navel, and he’s still cumming. The obscene mess between you is sticky and growing.  Then, even after his balls have emptied, he stays on top of you, hard cock pressed against you, empty pulsations waning for what feels like minutes.  He's so warm and wet and hard. He lies there with his weight on you and dips his forehead to your pillow, resting his temple against yours. You both have aftershocks against each other as you try to catch your breath.

"Holy shit," you pant softly. Once he rolls off you, you're already sticking to each other near the edges of the mess where it's drying. 

—--

All you can do is breathe heavily. His lips find yours. He kisses you deeply, then pulls back and hovers over you. He brushes tears you don't realize you're crying off your cheeks and his brow furrows.  

"Shit," he says as his thumb brushes your cheek. His eyes are wide. "You okay?" He swallows and studies your face. 

You nod confidently and look him in the eyes. He bows his head with relief, then gently kisses you again. You're terrified he's gonna come down and regret it. Your wet skin begins to feel cold. You look down. "Oh my god." It's so much cum. You're covered in it. It's all the way up to your breasts, at least. It's all over him, too.

"Oh shit," he says with a small laugh. "Gimme a sec." He gets out of bed. 

-----

Cleaning both of you up takes multiple warm washcloths. You really need a full shower, but you're so tired and just want to be held. 

You move to  the dry side of the bed. You'll deal with it all in the morning. He turns off the lamp and gets under the sheets with you. You face each other, and he wraps his arms around you. 

You ask, "What time do you have to leave?" 

"I'm not worried about it," he says. 

There's a long silence, during which he strokes your shoulder with his thumb.

Then you whisper, "What now?"

"Mmm….We do it again, and again, and again. . ." 

You look up at him. "Are you mocking me?" 

He kisses you.

"I'm trying to have an adult conversation," you mock back.  

Then he whispers, "let's go to sleep" and kisses you good night. 

—-------

His Xmas party look 😍😍😍

Distressed stepdad art 🥹🥹🥹

Thank you so much for reading and engaging. Your comments and reblogs mean a lot!!!! I love you guys. You can follow @toxicfics to turn on notifications. make sure your phone has push notifs enabled for tumblr.

If this is the first one you've read, I strongly recommend reading the series (it's not long like prob <15k total). there are references to it in this.

------

[strawbeerossi]

Mine

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: Whenever the police chief gets a little too friendly with you, you find yourself having a very strict conversation with Spencer at the hotel.

Content/Warnings: Jealous!Spencer, unprotected sex, squirting

Word Count: 1.6K

Kinktober Day Twenty Eight: Squirting

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

Spencer felt his eye twitching as he noticed the newest chief of police was all over you. There was a child abduction case in Nashville, Tennessee that the BAU had offered their resources to. It was standard, children going missing and parents getting weird texts the longer their children were kept captive. You were spending a lot of time at the precinct with him due to you being the designated member alongside JJ to interview the families and surviving child victims who were let go.

“So agent. I got a few questions on your profiling abilities.” The man stated as he was leaning against the desk he was closest to, your gaze lifting from the case file the team had been building up over the past few days. “Okay, lay them on me.” You were just being friendly, not being the best at sensing when men were hitting on you or outright flirting. It was both a blessing and a curse. “Is it true that kids in abusive homes are guaranteed to be murderers?”

The question was quick but you were faster to answer. “No! Not in all cases. Stressors and triggers from childhood can play a big part in the psychological damage of a serial killer but there are people who came from relatively good homes who have murdered others in cold blood. There’s no exact genetic makeup or reason yet, but one day I’m sure it’ll all be answered in depth.”

The rest of the day went like that. He’d ask a question and you’d happily answer, although he was essentially eyefucking you while you were too enthralled in an explanation to pay close enough attention. Hotch had eventually instructed the team to go to their hotel for the night, the team needed rest after being awake for nearly twenty four hours without so much as a break.

The SUV ride back was dead silent, mostly because of exhaustion setting in. However, you could sense tension in your boyfriend as you rested your head lightly against his shoulder.

He’d been abnormally quiet at the precinct, barely even looking in your direction when you came near him. You figured it was exhaustion. Not only were you up for long hours but cases involving children were some of the most draining things you’d ever have to go through. After arriving at the hotel and everyone disbanding to get to their rooms, you were unlocking the door and getting your shoes off while Spencer quietly walked deeper into the room.

“Did you want to take a shower first, babe?” You asked, offering a smile.

It faltered though whenever your boyfriend was facing you, fury in his eyes. “Are we not gonna talk about how chief Lorn is shamelessly flirting with you? It’s like you're eating it up! I mean come on, babe. Why would you ever assume he would care about profiling related things?” His tone was steady, yet anger bubbling over the surface. You looked confused, an eyebrow raised. “Flirting? Spencer, he’s asking questions. I think you’re just tired and taking your emotions out on me.”

Very good guess and probably true, however Spencer wouldn’t admit that. “No. I’m not taking out my emotions on you for no reason. You think I don’t see you batting your eyelashes or laughing at anything this guy says? You don’t know how angry it makes me to know how blind you are to these signals.” Blunt. The words had your mouth agape in shock. “I’m not flirting with the damn police chief! Jesus, Spencer.”

“I don’t believe you. You look like you are eating up all the attention. You know, I bet he wouldn’t even treat you the way I do. Do you think he’d spend every waking moment dedicating his life to you? Huh? Do you think he could love you like I do?” His footsteps were quick and his path decided to back you up against the wall. “Cause I know for sure that he can’t make you cum like I do.” His honey colored eyes were blown out with lust, his hands immediately moving to grip your hips tight. “Spencer!” You squeaked, your pussy clenching desperately around nothing as you could feel the heat of arousal coursing through your veins. Spencer hardly ever got jealous like this, however you liked this side of him. He was rough and could be a little mean, which really did get the job done. “Tell me I’m lying.” His eyes narrowed, hand under your chin making you stare up at him.

“I-I wasn’t flirting with anyone! I was just being friendly.” Your voice was barely above a whisper while Spencer sighed and dropped his hand from your chin. “Go get on the bed.” He murmured, already working on getting his tie off. You knew what you were in for. Spencer didn’t act like this much but you knew that special incidents would pull this rather uncharacteristic side out of him. You’d done what you were used to, already stripping yourself down as you were crawling onto the hotel bed while preparing yourself for whatever was coming.

You knew that he wasn’t going to give you the princess treatment like usual, instead Spencer was getting right to business as he was reaching in his bag to pull out a condom from the side pocket and using his teeth to tear it open. After rolling on the rubber, he was heading over to the edge of the bed to grasp your ankle, tugging your body down the mattress. His gaze was focused on your pussy, a low hum leaving his lips. “Look at how wet you are.” His fingers were teasingly running through your slick folds to collect your sweet arousal, holding a hand up to show off the glistening digits. “Now, I wonder who did that..” He playfully pondered while giving his cock a few lazy tugs.

As he was situated between your legs, Spencer was grasping his shaft and smacking it against your pussy before moving to run his tip through your folds to further tease you, your hand gently reaching for his hip. “Fuck, Spencer. Please.” You whined.

That was all he needed to hear, his large hands wrapping your legs around his waist as he readied himself, his right hand on his cock while the left squeezed your hip. As the thick tip was breaching your soaked cunt, the male was shushing your whines. “We haven’t even gotten started yet. Tonight, I’m gonna show you just how much you don’t need some idiotic police chief and learn how to appreciate what you do have.” Jealousy wasn’t something Spencer was proud of but the emotion was prominently on display and he wasn’t gonna hide it.

His hips were slamming against yours without warning, a loud gasp falling from your lips as your head was falling back against the mattress. “Fuck!” You cursed, feeling the burn of his cock stretching out your desperate and leaking pussy from being shoved deep into your warmth. “You think he’d have you acting like this? Look at how desperate you are and I’ve barely touched you.” His voice was low as both hands roughly gripped your hips. Spencer was normally more of the soft and sweet side, however in these sorts of moods, he was different than anyone who really knew him could imagine.

His thrusts were relentless, your pussy sinfully squelching from each rough snap of his hips, your arousal adding a shine to his cock. “Is this what you wanted? To be fucked like a cheap whore?” The vulgarity alone was making your stomach do flips. This was the man who was bashful with saying the word bitch, yet here he was, cursing and calling you a whore. You wouldn’t complain at all, mainly because you couldn’t.

With his onslaught of assaulting your cunt, you were letting out a series of moans, shaky whines, and pleas for him not to stop. Your skin was flushed, nails digging into your partner’s shoulders as you were in pure bliss. “Look at you. You like it when I abuse your cunt, don’t you? Want to be used like the whore you are? Fuck,” He huffed out, lips smashing against yours as he wasted no time practically shoving his tongue in your mouth while slamming his cock into your pussy, slamming into the spot where you needed him most.

The feeling of your walls constricting and spasming around his cock was like a dream. Spencer was sensitive, so he loved feeling your gummy walls and being able to have them gripping at his shaft, your desperate pussy making an attempt to suck in more of his dick even though it just wasn’t possible.

You were seeing stars, a familiar heat brewing in the pit of your stomach. However, you weren’t able to speak, only being reduced to blubbering about being close, even so the words were slurred together and still hard read. Thankfully, Spencer knew exactly what you were trying to convey, a hand coming down between your sweaty bodies as he was quick to press his finger against your clit, the pressure on the bundle of nerves causing you to whine desperately.

However what happened next was something that even snapped Spencer out of his jealous haze.

He was in the midst of roughly fucking into you whenever your legs were shaking violently, your nails dragging down his back as your body arched from the bed while hitting your orgasm. Instead of making a creamy mess of his cock, there was a gush of arousal that painted his thighs, pelvis, your thighs, and the hotel bedsheets below you. Spencer was slowly coming to a stop while staring at you with wide eyes.

“You’ve never done that before!” He squeaked, his eyes casting down at the glistening of your arousal painting his skin. You were fucked out, your eyes glossed over as you opened your mouth to speak, however a moan falling out soon after.

“No, no. We are doing that again!”

[marauroon]

JEALOUSY, RESOLVED — REMUS LUPIN!

remus proves his devotion to your relationship, and his friends do too.

remus lupin x fem!reader | flangst | 1.3k | masterlist.

part one. | part two.

a/n — who doesn’t love a happy ending?

The next morning is tense.

You wake up with swollen eyes, a heaviness lingering in your chest, and a dread that settles deep in your stomach. Remus had held you for what felt like hours, whispering apologies and promises that everything would be okay, but now, in the stark morning light, you're not so sure.

You avoid him for the first half of the day. It’s cowardly, you know, but you don’t have the strength to face him yet—or worse, to face them. The Marauders, the trio that seems to fill Remus’s life with laughter and light, the friends you’d always felt overshadowed by.

What would they think of you now? You’re sure Remus has told them everything.

After lunch, however, you can’t avoid it any longer. As you’re leaving the Great Hall, you spot Remus waiting just outside the entrance, leaning against the wall with an expression that’s somewhere between determined and nervous. You hesitate, but he sees you before you can make your escape, and his eyes soften.

“Hey,” he says gently, stepping forward. “Can we talk? Please?”

There’s no escape this time, so you nod and follow him out onto the grounds, walking silently side by side until you’re far enough from prying eyes.

You expect him to start with another apology, but instead, he stops and looks at you with a seriousness that takes you by surprise.

“Can you meet us tonight?” he asks, his voice firm but kind. “In the common room. After dinner.”

“Why?” Your tone is wary, guarded.

“Because I want to make this right,” he says, his eyes searching yours. “I talked to the others. They want to talk to you, too.”

You open your mouth to argue, to say that you’re not ready, that you don’t need their pity or their explanations, but there’s something in Remus’s expression—some mix of resolve and hope—that makes you swallow your protests.

“Okay,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. He smiles, relief washing over his features, and it’s almost enough to make you believe that maybe, just maybe, things can be different.

—

That evening, you feel like you’re walking to your own execution as you make your way to the Gryffindor common room.

The Marauders are waiting for you, clustered together on the couches near the fire. They stop talking when you arrive, and the sudden silence is almost unbearable.

You sit down hesitantly, the cushion feeling too soft, too warm beneath you. Remus gives you an encouraging nod, and you take a steadying breath, trying to muster what little courage you have.

It’s James who speaks first, his voice unusually gentle. “Look, we know we’ve been... well, maybe a bit clueless,” he says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “Remus told us how you’ve been feeling, and we’re really sorry. We didn’t realise you felt... left out.”

“Or that we were making you feel that way,” Sirius adds, and his voice is softer than you’ve ever heard it. He’s not wearing his usual roguish grin; instead, he looks almost vulnerable. “We never meant to make you feel like you weren’t welcome.”

You don’t know what to say, so you just look down at your hands, twisting them in your lap. It’s Remus’s hand that comes to rest gently over yours, grounding you.

“You’re not just Remus’s partner,” James says, leaning forward, his voice sincere. “You’re one of us, if you want to be. We just... I think we didn’t know how to include you without making it weird.”

“We’re kind of rubbish at being subtle,” Sirius admits, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “We’re used to it just being the four of us. But that doesn’t mean there’s no room for you. We want there to be.”

There’s a silence, and you realise they’re all waiting for you to say something. You take a shaky breath. “I just... don’t want to get in the way,” you say, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I don’t want to be a burden.”

“A burden?” James says, his eyebrows shooting up. “Are you kidding? You’re brilliant! Remus is always talking about how smart you are, how funny—how you’re the only one who can keep up with him in a debate about some obscure magical creature.”

“And you’re bloody good at Potions,” Peter adds with a grin, his eyes bright with something like admiration. “Better than any of us, anyway. Remember that time you saved me from failing that essay on Veritaserum?”

The compliments catch you off guard, and you feel a warmth spreading through your chest, an unfamiliar lightness. You glance at Remus, who’s watching you with a hopeful smile, and something in you begins to ease.

“We didn’t mean to push you away,” James says earnestly. “We want you to be part of this—of us. If you want that, too.”

You hesitate, feeling the weight of the decision. But then you think of all those moments you spent on the edges, wishing you could be part of the laughter, part of the friendship that Remus shared so easily with them. Maybe it’s not too late to be part of it, too.

“Okay,” you say softly, and it’s like a dam breaking. The tension in the room dissolves, replaced by a flood of relief and warmth.

Sirius whoops and claps you on the back, nearly knocking you off the couch. “Brilliant! I knew you’d come around.”

“Welcome to the gang,” James says with a wide grin, extending his hand. You take it, and he pulls you into a quick, awkward hug that makes you laugh in spite of yourself.

“We gotta get you a nickname-!” Peter jumps ahead of himself in his enthusiasm, and Sirius falls straight into planning it with him.

Remus’s arm wraps around your shoulders, and he presses a soft kiss to your temple. “Thank you,” he whispers, and you know he means it for more than just showing up.

—

From then on, things are different.

At first, it’s a bit awkward—the boys seem overly careful not to exclude you, going out of their way to make sure you’re involved in every conversation and inside joke.

But slowly, it becomes more natural. You find yourself laughing with them, teasing Sirius about his hair routine or rolling your eyes when James brags about his Quidditch moves.

They start inviting you to their adventures—sneaking down to the kitchens at midnight for snacks, or helping with the latest prank they’re planning on the Slytherins.

You even start contributing your own ideas, and when one of your plans works better than expected, Sirius gives you an impressed nod, muttering something about a “bloody genius.”

It’s not perfect, and sometimes you still feel a pang of jealousy when Remus slips easily into an old memory with them, but it’s not the same sharp, unbearable ache it used to be. Because now, when he turns to share a smile, you’re there beside him, part of the circle, part of the jokes.

It’s one evening, weeks later, where you’re all crammed together on the couch—Sirius snoring softly on one end while James dozes against the other—that it kind of properly sinks in.

Remus’s head is resting on your shoulder, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your wrist, and you feel... content.

For the first time, you don’t feel like an outsider looking in. You’re one of them now. A part of the Marauders, in all their messy, chaotic glory.

[kiarrahatesboys]

Realistically, today had been a good day. Most of Lena's technology worked perfectly, and any tweaks she needed to make went smoothly. Nia had bought her coffee. At a private moment around noon, Kara had kissed her cheek before flying off to do rounds on the city.

Lena, however, stands in the hallway of Kara’s apartment building wishing she could punch a hole or twelve into the drywall. Her keys - including the spare key to the loft that she had been given - fall out of her hand to the floor, and she feels the tension in her chest build.

It takes an eternal four seconds to pick them up, unlock the door, and step inside.

Kara stands by her kitchen sink, sipping from her purple water bottle. “Hi, baby.”

There is no will to look over and smile in response. Lena drops her purse on the floor and trudges straight to the bed. She falls face-first into it, feet dangling in the air.

All the blankets and abandoned clothes from this morning smell familiar. Lemon and woodsmoke – Kara. Lena likes to joke that the woodsmoke smell is because she flies so fast she burns up.

She can feel the furrow in her eyebrows, and what's worse is that she has no idea why it's there. It was a good day. She didn't even have to make a pit stop at Luthor Corp to put out any fires. There's nothing wrong.

The lack of explanation for her frustration makes her even more frustrated.

“Hey.” The mattress dips as Kara sits down. “Rough day?”

“No,” Lena says into blankets, suddenly near tears. She rolls over onto her back. “That's the thing, it was good. So why am I in meltdown territory?”

Kara’s hand is in her hair – soothing, home, safety. “I’m sorry. Let me help you?”

Lena nods, toeing off her shoes. They clatter to the floor. Kara offers her hands and pulls her into a sitting position. She helps Lena out of her day clothes and expertly offers the right pajamas. Good texture, good match, good breathability.

It takes a moment for her to start pulling them on as she prepares to go from stationary to in motion. The clean air surrounding her body after she changes helps to lessen the dread in her shoulders. Kara knows the little details to make her comfortable - hood up over her head, a fresh pair of socks. Once dressed, Lena flops over onto her side and curls up tight.

Kara leans over to kiss her head. She draws the curtains. The room becomes dark, and Lena feels her eyebrows relax. It’s a warm summer day outside, and the sun has made its presence clear. The darkness now dampening her vision offers peace.

“Do you want me around?” Kara asks, voice soft.

“Yes, please.” Lena sounds childlike. Her voice is fragile, muffled under her hands.

“Okay, scooch. Make room.”

Lena falls limp as a smile ghosts her face.

“Wow. Okay.” Kara heaves a dramatic sigh.

She feels Kara’s arms snake under her body. For a moment, she’s weightless, and then she’s gently set a foot or two over from where she was before. The mattress bounces again as Kara settles.

Lena reaches behind her to pull Kara's arm over her stomach and takes a deep breath.

“Good girl,” Kara says innocently.

“Hmm?”

“The deep breath. Proud of you.”

Lena’s body feels warm with love. “Thanks.”

The conversation lulls. Lena keeps breathing. Cool air keeps her temperature regulated under a hoodie and Kara’s body. Tension still weighs in her chest, but the accommodations matter. Kara doesn't even ask what she needs, she just knows. Lena barely has to move. She's surrounded by so much love.

“I wish I knew what was wrong.” she says into silence.

Kara hums, sounding sleepy and content.

“Like, nothing bad happened. I had a good day. Why do I feel like I want to implode?”

“You’re autistic, love.” Kara slips her hand beneath Lena’s hoodie to hold her tummy. “That happens. Sometimes there's no answer. I know you don't like that, I’m sorry.”

Lena hates how whiny she sounds. “But I want an answer! I want something to fix.”

“I know, baby.”

She sighs, then rolls over into Kara’s embrace. Having nothing to blame makes the situation feel unresolved. Agitation swirls in her gut, but she knows there's nothing to be done. Sometimes there are just days where the world is too much.

“Too much world.” Lena mumbles.

Kara puts a hand in her hair. “I know. I’m sorry. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

As much as the lack of answer makes things unfinished, the hoodie helps. Having the hood up helps. She has clean socks and a dark room. Her girlfriend loves her, and is warm and solid against her.

Despite it all, she's loved. And that’s important too.

"Thank you." she whispers into darkness.

Kara scratches gently at her scalp. "Always, baby."

Always.

[hxneyfarm]

got the idea in my head of the party clocking the steddie tension and bullying eddie about it so this happened | 1.7k | rating: g or t, depending on how you feel about swearing

“I’m gonna need you two to either quit that or get your shit together and make out already.”

Eddie drags his eyes away from the door at the top of the basement stairs that Steve’s just closed on his way out to pick up Max and El, back to the task at hand, the table in front of him, his lost little sheep taking their places around the table in the Wheelers’ basement. It's Erica that spoke up, her eyebrow raised in a condescending kind of way that Eddie’s not sure if she learned from her mother or from Steve.

“Hey, watch your fuckin’ mouth,” he chastises, a little belatedly, a lot unnecessarily, and very obviously a deflection from the meat and potatoes of what she said.

It’s not just little Sinclair watching Eddie anymore; they’re all peering expectantly at him like they’re waiting for an explanation. Well, they’re not gonna get it. This little dance that he and Steve are doing - if it’s even a dance at all - is nobody’s business but their own. 

It’s been months now and it’s driving Eddie out of his goddamned mind but it’s not like he’s going to talk to the fucking kids about it. Jeff and Grant have been pretty receptive about the whole thing and Eddie’s talked both their ears off to the point of annoyance. Gareth won’t even give him the time of day anymore when Eddie starts in on talking about Steve.

It’s just that he and Steve have had this little back and forth going for a few months now, where they’ll flirt and Eddie will just start to think that maybe’s he’s got a shot and then Steve will back away. And then they’ll go a few days without talking and they’ll be back at it with a vengeance, picking on each other and making suggestive comments and very intentionally checking one another out.

But then Eddie’ll see Steve laying that same charm onto every girl that walks into the video store and snap back to himself. The mixed signals make him want to scream a little bit. One minute he’s psyching himself up to ask Steve to come back to his after work, maybe watch a stupid movie and make out on the couch, but then he reminds himself that he’s fucking delusional and Steve is just like that. He’s a flirt, and the way he flirts with Eddie doesn’t mean anything.

But the kids are still watching him, still waiting for an explanation about the way he and Steve were just gazing at each other as Steve climbed the stairs to leave, and so Eddie sighs.

“It’s nothing, okay?”

“Right,” says Henderson with a roll of his eyes and a shrug of his shoulders. “Which is why you two can’t stop making those lovesick faces at each other and flirting with each other, and why neither of you can ever shut up about each other.”

“Steve talks about me?”

“Jesus Christ,” Mike mutters. He’s tipping his chair back, balancing it on two legs. It’d be so easy for Eddie to just… tap it with his foot, send little Wheeler to the floor.

“Anyway!” Eddie says again, clapping his hands together. “It doesn’t matter! It’s nothing! Stevie’s just… like that. Y’know? With everybody. Let’s get to work, we’ve got a campaign to get through, no reason for us to be wasting time talking about Steve Harrington. Right?”

“Wait,” Will cuts in. His smile is a little mischievous, a little mean, and suddenly Eddie doesn’t remember why he likes the littlest Byers as much as he does. “You think Steve acts the way he does with you, with everybody?”

“Yeah. We’re friends. He’s… flirtatious. It’s not a thing, y’know? It’s just. A thing.”

“So you really think he willingly stuffs four teenagers in his car every Friday night to drop us off here, and then goes back out to pick up two more teenagers to bring them out here because…? Friends?” Lucas is looking at Eddie like he thinks he might be ready to grow another head.

Okay. Fuck. So they’re actually talking about this. Eddie and a bunch of snotty little kids are about to talk about his fucking crush on their babysitter. Jesus Christ.

“Listen. We are not discussing this.”

Will ignores him. “If you like him, ask him out.”

“And ruin a perfectly good friendship, baby Byers? I think I’ll pass. Besides, him and Nance…”

“Are long over,” Will insists, leaning forward and putting his arms on the table. “She’s still going out with my brother.”

“Like I said,” Erica cuts in again, “I need you two to suck face already or cut it out. We might be kids but we aren’t blind.”

“Please, he doesn’t even like me like that.”

“Are you kidding?” Dustin again. It’s like a game of round robin, each kid around the table lobbing questions and insistences at him in turn. “How can you say that, Eddie? The way he looks at you, the way he talks to you. He spends his Fridays here, in his ex-girlfriend's basement, to spend time with you. Don’t you see the way he watches you?”

“He just… I tell a good story.”

Mike lets loose a scoff and a sigh that could very well shake the foundations of the house around them. “I don’t even like Steve, but yeah. He treats you different. Special.”

“I already told you - he flirts with everybody. He’s a flirt! That doesn’t mean that it means something.”

“Who else does he call baby?” Lucas asks him, deadpan.

“He has pet names for everybody.”

“No he doesn’t. Who else is he going around touching all the time?”

“Robin, who he does have a pet name for. He calls her Bird.”

“Because you started calling her Bird. He picked that up from you,” Dustin argues. “And yes, he talks about you. He asks about you when he hasn’t seen you in a few days. He mentions stuff you said. He had an Ozzy tape playing in his car today and when I asked about it, y’know what he said?”

“‘Eddie gave it to me,’” Will supplies with a smile. “And he was smiling when he said it. That weird smile he gets sometimes. You know the one.”

“The Eddie smile.”

Eddie’s mouth is dry. His head is swimming a little bit. His heart races. There’s blood pounding in his ears as he thinks about Steve listening to The Ultimate Sin in his car even when Eddie’s not around to tell him about the production of the album or explain the intricacies of the instrumentals. He listens to it because he enjoys the music Eddie’s shown him. He talks about Eddie to the kids, asks about him.

Eddie exists to Steve outside of the weekly campaigns at the Wheelers’.

Doesn’t mean Steve likes Eddie the way Eddie likes him, though. Eddie can’t let himself dwell too much on the possibilities of what that could mean. He’s been crushing for months now. It’s almost winter in Hawkins, and Steve’s started coming around to campaigns more and more often the closer to the holidays it gets; Eddie figured it’s because Nancy will be coming home for Christmas soon - she was just here for Thanksgiving and Steve spent most of that Friday upstairs with her instead of in the basement with Eddie and the kids. So Eddie just kind of figured they were reconciling… 

He’d moped about it after he went home, certain that he’d never have a chance with Steve in spite of his very big, very obvious crush on him.

The thing is, Eddie’s never been all that subtle in his affections. He’s a tactile guy as it is, but with Steve it’s like he can’t keep his hands to himself at all. He finds himself reaching out whenever they’re together, a moon orbiting a planet, and Steve is all too willing to be the gravitational pull that draws Eddie close.

But that doesn’t mean he likes Eddie.

Which is what he says to the kids. They’re still looking at him, waiting for his response.

“You are so blind, God,” Mike groans, covering his face. “We can all see the way he feels about you, and you’re so gaga for him it’s a fucking miracle he hasn’t asked you out himself. Jesus, we are all so sick of this shit.”

“Language, Wheeler.”

“Stop deflecting, Munson. If you don’t say something when he gets back here, I’m gonna tell him for you. We’re all fucking tired of this!”

“I don’t wanna hear it from you, of all people!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“If you don’t know then I’m not gonna tell you. Dumbass teenagers.”

There’s a flurry of footfalls above them, and then the basement door opens to reveal El and Max coming slowly down the stairs with Steve following close behind.

“Tense down here,” Steve smiles. “What’d we just walk in on?”

Panic rises in Eddie as Mike pins him with an evil smile and starts to open his mouth to spill the beans.

“Good news first or bad news first?” Eddie blurts out, holding out a hand towards Mike to shut him up.

“Uh oh,” Steve says. He pauses on the bottom step as the girls hover near the table. Steve’s eyebrows draw together, a little confused and a little concerned, and Eddie’s overcome with the urge to reach out and touch him. “Bad news first, always.”

“We were arguing about you.”

“And the good news?”

“Good news for you, either way. You have the option to prove them all wrong or severely gross them out.”

That crease between Steve’s eyebrows deepens. “What are you talking about?”

Well. Here goes nothing.

“The kids are all convinced you’re into me the same way I’m into you but I told ‘em that’s ridiculous. So you can tell ‘em they’re all idiots or you can come over here and kiss me, make ‘em all wanna wash their eyes out with bleach.”

Steve’s smile is slow to spread, but spread it does. It starts as a twitch in the corner of his mouth and his face softens. That twitch goes a little lopsided, one side of his mouth tipping up into an uncertain smile before it bleeds over onto the rest of his mouth, and he’s grinning. 

The Eddie smile.

It takes him no time at all to cross from the stairs to where Eddie sits at the head of the table and he drags Eddie up out of his seat.

“Guess we better get some bleach ready, then, baby,” Steve says.

And then he kisses him.

because you both asked to be tagged literally anytime i write something: @steves-strapcollection and @patchworkgargoyle - here, i wrote something

[paceprompting]

Countdown to '86

written for ‘midnight’ and ‘confession’ | wc: 1000 # | steddie | rated: t | cw: no archive warnings apply | tags: pre-season four, getting together, steve has a crush on eddie, eddie finally gets a clue

@steddieholidaydrabbles & @steddiemas

Part One Part Two Part Three

Eddie had decided not to go to the New Year’s party.

Really.

He and Wayne had finally saved enough to get the van fixed. There was no reason to not spend one night with his uncle by going to a party at Steve’s Harrington house instead.

The jacket sat in its pristine Bloomingdale’s box on his desk, taunting him.

He had no idea whether or not it fit, or if he would have a miraculous allergic reaction and could honestly never wear it.

There was (unfortunately) only one way to find out.

He had a floor-length mirror in his room, and he stared at himself in the black denim jacket that Steve Harrington had given to him as a Christmas present.

It fit. Perfectly.

Not too tight at the shoulders. Simple design, easily alterable to Eddie’s aesthetic.

Why the hell had Steve given this to him?

He could wait until after winter break to find out. Corner Steve in the parking lot and demand an explanation. But that was another week where Eddie would have to stare at the jacket and tear his hair out over the questions.

Eddie wasn’t going to go to the New Year’s party.

But he had no other choice.

Having made a decision, Eddie didn’t remove the jacket before he drove off toward the Harrington house. He didn’t bother parking a block away, setting up right in front.

He didn’t have his lunchbox, so anyone sober enough would realize that Eddie was horribly out of place. Hopefully, his stride was quick enough that he could get in, get some answers, and then get the hell out.

Finding Steve was easy.

Eddie nearly smacked him with the front door, the drink in his hand sloshing onto the floor. Steve didn’t miss a beat, avoiding the door with a move Eddie recognized from gym.

“Hey,” he said, eyes quickly traveling over Eddie. He smiled when he noticed the jacket. “You wore it. Fit okay?”

“Yeah.” Eddie glanced at the crowd, already getting bumped into two feet into the house. He shoved his hands into his pockets and said, “We need to have a discussion.”

If Steve was surprised, he only gave it away with a single blink. Otherwise, he took the request in stride, tilting his head toward the staircase.

“Upstairs?”

Eddie nodded quickly, not bothering to wait for Steve before he shouldered through the crowd and made a beeline for the (somehow) familiar space of Steve’s bedroom. He kept his back to the door until Steve closed it behind them, muffling Dick Clark's New Year's Rockin' Eve.  

Eddie turned and came right out with it.

“You gave me a present.”

It wasn’t the smoothest start to a conversation, since Steve only furrowed his brows at what Eddie has basically phrased as an accusation.

Eddie swallowed. Tried again.

“You gave me a ride. We hung out at the mall. And you got me…a present.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I did.” Steve agreed plainly, standing in the low light of his bedroom in his dark blue Henley and jeans.

“Why?”

“I—” Steve wavered, setting his drink on his dresser.

Eddie scoffed. “Seriously, Harrington, this is really involved if you’re just going to fuck with me. I’d rather you just came out with it.”

Steve took a long breath, his eyes downcast to the floor.

His voice, when he spoke, was barely loud enough over the sound downstairs.

“Are you going to believe me if I said I wanted to do all those things?”

“No,” Eddie said.

It was the truth. Mostly.

Steve looked at him from under his lashes, with a strange determination that contradicted the whole conversation.

“Could I prove it to you?”

Eddie found himself nodding.

And then Steve crossed the room, his warm hand sliding along Eddie’s jaw to tilt his head up to meet the soft press of his lips.

And things made…a little more sense.

Eddie inhaled through his nose, but Steve didn’t push. He moved their mouths once to make the kiss last that much longer, and then pulled back, his hand still on Eddie’s face.

It was certainly proof.

“What time is it?” he asked.

Later, if asked, he would have chocked it up to his brain severely malfunctioning from the whole being-kissed-by-Steve-Harrington thing. Otherwise, he would not have still been standing so close to him.

“What?” Steve asked.

“How much longer until midnight?”

Steve shook his head slightly, glancing over Eddie’s shoulder toward his bed. Maybe to an alarm clock.

“Few minutes,” he answered.

Eddie could work with that.

“So,” he wet his lips. Steve glanced at it, unable to hide that he’d done so. “This all start in the car?”

“No.”

“The mall?”

Steve chuckled, the sound vibrating in his chest where Eddie was pressed against him. “Lunch. I don’t really remember which one.” He got this look on his face. Eddie nearly called it fond. “You’re hard to miss.”

“Pretty sure most people would prefer I cracked my head on floor during those.”

Eddie tried for dismissive, but Steve easily sidestepped.

“You’re so…free. Defiant,” Steve continued, his thumb dragging across Eddie’s cheek. He’d nearly forgotten it was there. “So different than I am. Better.”

How that led to standing in Steve’s bedroom, seriously considering having Steve’s mouth on his again, he had no idea.

Eddie didn’t have to ask for the time. The crowd downstairs had started the countdown.

“What do you want from me?” he asked.

He’d said it before. People like Steve and people like Eddie didn’t…mesh.

“Just you,” Steve answered, biting his bottom lip. “If you’d like to, I mean.”

For weeks, Eddie had been blind. And it went against every part of him he’d thought was set in stone, what had gotten him through years of bullshit. Every part determined to say that boys like Steve did not want boys like Eddie.

“Damn it, Harrington,” he said, as the crowd cheered the last second of a passing year and Eddie pressed his mouth hard to Steve’s.

Tag list: @here4thetrama @tillystealeaves @th30ra3k3n @fairytalesreality @rabidhungryrat

[thecordelialetters]

I’ll love you in every multiverse Pt. 2 I Five Hargreeves x Reader

Post Apocalypse Au! WC: 1.8k Pt. 1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4

Summary: The Umbrella’s can understand jumping through time and all its rules, yeah fuck with the timeline and it’ll fuck you right back. But what happens when a portal opens up in the middle of the academy and outfalls a girl who claims to be Five’s wife from a different universe.

It had been four hours since you and Five arrived at the library. Piles and piles of books surrounded the two of you, none of which seemed to have the answers you needed. Equations were littered across the table and papers were strewn about. Five spoke up a few feet away from where you were sitting. "Im getting nowhere. I think we need to start from square one with my formula for time travel and superimpose that on the multiversal possibility." You looked at him ready to ask for a simpler explanation but when you saw his eyes focused on the paper ahead of him, you couldn't help but feel a throb in your chest. You missed your Five. The feel of his skin, the look of love in his eyes, the tone of his voice when he said he loved you. Five noticed your silence and looked up. "Are you okay?" You looked away blinking back tears. "Yeah I'm fine, let's just keep looking." But Five sensed you were no longer in the mood to research, so he got up and held his hand to you.

"Come on, staring at these pages too long will fry your brain, let's get some food." You grabbed his hand and savored the warmth it held. Each callous represented the number of missions he went through, though it was clean of the blood he shed it felt like home. If this was home, if this was before the fight, you and Five might be sitting together, not 5 feet apart, reading books. Perhaps the two of you would be in comfortable silence, your feet in his lap and his hand massaging your ankle every once in a while. Maybe he would look over, and you would glance back, peaking over the words of little women, one of your faves. Possibly he would put his book down and climb over to you . He would kiss your cheek, then your neck, and then settle in a comfortable spot beside you.

A cough from this universe's Five pulled you out of your reverie. The two of you ended up in a small Chinese takeout place that was decorated to the brim with gaudy oriental lanterns and curtains. It wasn't too busy, the noise mostly consisted of the cooking in the back and the occasional ring of the phone. Five brought over two containers, pork and white rice with steamed vegetables for himself and beef broccoli lo main for you. Surprisingly even this Five subconsciously knew what you wanted.

“How,” he looked uncomfortable, as if he didn’t know how to talk anymore. “How have you uh been so far?” He put a big spoonful of rice in his mouth as if it were to stop him from asking another bland question.

Awkwardly you looked to the side, “I’ve been fine, missing home, worried about how my husbands doing, worried how I'll be able to get back, if I could get back.” You paused for a second, pursing your lips at the thought. “Wondering what I’ll do if I can’t get back.”

The sentence brought tears to your eyes, as if saying it out loud only solidified the possibility of it.

Despite thinking you’d flinch back, Five hesitantly reached over to touch your hand. But you didn’t, it was an action he had done a million times over. "I will do everything I can to help you." His eyes held so much sincerity at that moment. Behind the relief you felt at that statement, you felt a question poke your subconscious. Maybe it was the fact that he was another version of your husband, but he looked so handsome and sweet in that moment, that you actually thought about leaning over to kiss him. Five looked at you deeply after promising to help you get home, but he wasn't sure if he even meant what he said. Some part of him enjoyed having you around. You already knew him and he was still shocked that in another world he was able to have you. The two of you finished up your food while making some small talk about your old life, and what his previous plans were. Walking back home was a comfortable silence, two hands occasionally brushed up against one another without the confidence to fully connect.

It was late when you arrived at the academy, a tired look adorning your face with sleepy yawns escaping your mouth. Five gingerly led you through the entrance to his room. He left you sitting on the bed and brought back an assortment of things. "I grabbed you a towel, toothbrush, and an extra set of pajamas. There is a bathroom right outside to your left and if you need anything I'll be sleeping in Vanya's old room." You peeked up at him through thick lashes, "Thanks Five." He closed the door and left the room to clean up for bed. As he was changing he imagined yourself helping him get ready, maybe playfully joking while the two of you brushed your teeth. What were you like in bed, not in that way, but how did you sleep? Did you cuddle him? Did you prefer to be big spoon or little spoon, did you snore? It was 2 hours and he was still imagining the life the two of you would have, did have. His wife. He had Delores and his family, but settling down with a real woman and being able to live a peaceful domestic life was something he thought was a farfetched dream in this world.

Meanwhile, as you got ready for bed you started to look around Five’s room. Everything from his childhood was here. He definitely had a knack for math seeing the equations everywhere and the toy trains on his dresser. You couldn’t imagine young Five being too different from older Five, probably a smart ass. Lifting the covers you slid into the bed engulfed by his scent. Closing your eyes you swore you felt a ghost of an arm reaching around you.

The lights from the window hitting your eyes woke you up. You laid under the covers relishing the warmth, your hand moved over to your left, a cold spot where Five would have been. Your heart yearned for him like crazy, and wondered what he was doing right now and if he was okay. Getting up you got ready for the day, brushed your teeth washed your face before digging through Allison's closet for more normal clothes. Deciding on a pair of jeans and a tank top you made your way down the stairs where you were greeted by Five accompanied by an all-American breakfast, bacon eggs, and toast. "There's some coffee in the pot, creamer in the fridge, and sugar here." He gestured to the counter with a cup in his hand. "Thank you Five, this smells delicious." You let your hair fall over your face to hide your smile. Sweet. That was sweet of him. "Where uh is everyone else?" You hadn't seen anyone at the estate since you arrived. "Im not sure they usually like to go off on their own." Short and sweet, Okay probably wouldn't be getting much help from them. You made yourself a cup and sat down at the counter across from him. He stood there staring at his notebook and occasionally sipped his drink. You probably stared at him longer than necessary because he looked up at you. Green eyes met brown until yours flickered away. "Sorry It's just, you," you paused to think of the right words. "You're him, I can't stop thinking about him."

It looked like Five was having an inner conflict before one side eventually won. He swiftly rounded the corner, face hovering just above your head. "I'm not him...but I hope this helps." He wrapped his arms around your body. Your nose buried in his shirt, the feel, the smell it was all so overwhelming. You brought your hands around him and clung back, eyes clenched so tight as if he would disappear the minute they opened. "Please don't go" you whispered. "I would never." He replied. An outsider, upon looking at the two, would never guess they were strangers. This was a lover's embrace. Surprisingly you were the first to let go while Five continued to squish you. Slowly he loosened his grip, but not before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. "Do... Do you think I'll find her? My (y/n)?" He pulled away to look at you. You bite your lip, you didn't want to give him false hope nor want to crush him. "I don't know, there's no way to tell for sure. Maybe one day you'll cross paths. But know this." You grabbed his hand and put it over your wedding ring. "You'll make her the happiest girl in the world. And she will love you, all of you, for everything you are." It took everything in him to not kiss you, you weren't really his. The walk back to the library was quiet. Not a comfortable silence like before but there felt like there was an elephant in the room. The tension between the two of you was like a thick block of concrete. You pulled out 4 books from across the library and brought it over to the table the two of you sat at. "Here this one deals with multiversal theories, this one deals with the quantum realm, and this one is about space-time and math." The last book unbeknownst to Five was actually Viktor's memoir. You had seen it discarded in a "free book!" bin and was curious about what information it contained. While your study partner was busy with equations, you silently skimmed the book under the table. You read about the pain Reginald Hargreeves inflicted on the children, how Viktor felt like an outsider in his own home, how the children struggled with the lack of love at home, and the day Five jumped. There wasn't much about the actual day but what happened after, and Viktor's grief coming to terms with it. It was heartbreaking to read, even more so when you read about Ben's death.

Before you could read any further a cough snapped you out of your concentration. "So from what I gathered...we are going to need a lot of equipment. Now there's a lot of inheritance money left from my father but it's going to take a while." He grimaced, Five felt bad. He felt bad that you were probably suffering. “Don’t worry I’m going to help you, we’ll work day and night to get this thing going. It'll take having to use our powers and though, are you okay with that?” He knew that using your powers siphoned your life force and he didn’t want to risk that. “If that's what it'll take for me to get home then so be it.” You nodded comfortably. “I’ll try as much as I can to make sure you don’t use too much, but nothing's certain.”

He would make it certain. In the few days he'd spent with you, it wasn't hard to imagine eternity. No matter what he would make sure you could get home safely.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚

Author's note: I know I haven't posted in forever but I have like so many chapters in my draft sooooo... be on the look out for She's my angel as well ! She's my Angel Pt1. Shes my Angel Pt2.

Taglist : @cialovesklopp , @lovehatekill

[qu1cks1lversb1tch]

Hoping that this isn't weird but IMAGINE Vox having everything, fame, money, power, but he loses the one thing he treasures the most on extermination day– his family. Like imagine if Vox and his pregnant wife had this hugee argument before extermination day causing her to storm out of the tower, but he didn't chase her cause it was just probably the hormones and she'd come back. But she didn't manage to come back in time. So Vox had to wait in the tower cause he couldn't go out and pray that she was okay. After the extermination, he of course went ballistic trying to find her, jumping from camera to camera until he found her corpse in some random dark alley. What would be the aftermath? I HOPE THIS ISNT WEIRD I JUST CRAVEE ANGST ‼️‼️😭

A/N — I rewrote this a total of four times 😭 I hope this satisfies your need for angst, my lovely anon. This is the one my sister finally approved for everyone to see. Poor kid hates reading my fanfic and she's been subjected to being my conscience while I wrote this. I had to bribe her with coffee and a 20 piece nugget from McDonald's to get her to read more than a paragraph 😭

Fade To Black

Warnings: ANGST, pregnancy, Fem!Reader, loss of wife + child, Vox in denial, got kinda dark with the implications at the end(?), Alastor is mentioned a few times. Guys, I'm literally so sorry

Word Count: 1.2K

“You're not listening to me!” You reiterated for what felt like the billionth time, your gaze momentarily darting to the small curve of your stomach where one of your hands rested securely, the other on your hip.

Vox sighed, exasperated. “Listen, Doll, I'm hearing what you're saying and—”

“—That's exactly the problem! You're hearing what I'm saying but you're not actually listening to me, Vox! For Hell's sake, step away from your work and weird obsession with the Radio Demon for two seconds and focus on what's important!” 

The words felt like knives as you spoke them, each one spearing the air of the penthouse. The room fell silent. The other vees were no stranger to the arguments that broke out, hell, they were a part of most of them. . . But not this one. . . Vox stiffened and squared his shoulders. 

“My work is important. My work is what allows us to live the afterlife we do.” He said, his tone firm, almost condescending. 

“And what about your obsession, huh? Watching the rinky-dink hotel cameras in your office after hours for a glimpse of that antlered little freak who doesn't give a shit about you — when you should be home, here, with me?” 

You waited for an answer, yet Vox only stared at you. It was painfully clear that he didn't know what to say. “Lucifer's tits — fuck you!” You hissed, throwing your hands up in the air, showing just how done you were with all of this.

The next moment, you were turning on your heel and storming out of the room. 

Vox only scoffed and dropped onto the couch, watching as you walked away. Hormones. He thought to himself. It had to be.

He'd never seen you so worked up about his late nights at the office. Never seen you so angry when referencing Alastor, who had once been a good friend and mentor to you. 

Hormones. It was the only logical explanation, right?

He let you go, knowing you needed your space. . . Knowing you'd come home once you cleared your head and had just enough patience to once again approach the topic with a semi-level head, likely once the extermination was over.

You knew the moment you cleared the doors of the tower that you had likely overreacted. The hot, dry air of Hell against your skin seemed to bring the realization to the forefront of your mind. 

Yet it was pride and stubbornness that kept you from turning back to the tower, rather storming through the desolate back alleyways, a metaphorical thundercloud looming over your head.

Vox hadn't followed you, and you weren't about to give him the satisfaction of going back. You loved him, and you knew he loved you too — as shocking as it was that the two of you found genuine love in Hell.

As much as you loved him, he infuriated you, even more so now that you were carrying his child. . . 

The carnage of Extermination Day met your ears and your steps faltered, drawing you to a stop as your instincts then screamed at you to go home. To go where it was safe. 

Safe. 

Safe at Vox's side. At home. . .

How could you have forgotten what day it was? The anger. It had to have been the reason for your lapse in memory. . . So you began heading back towards the tower. 

Pride and stubbornness be damned.

Sticking to the shadows, you ventured forward towards the net of safety that you so desperately needed.

So close, yet so far.

Too far. 

It'd been too long. 

You'd been gone too long. 

The moment Extermination Day had been declared finished, Vox was out looking for you. Every camera on every street he could possibly reach. 

Every sinner he found dead and dying in the streets, he hoped he wouldn't see your face. Your beautiful face. . . The thought alone made something twist in his gut like a double edged blade — fear, he recognized. 

Pure unbridled fear. 

Fear of losing you. Fear of losing the two most important beings in his entire afterlife. 

He searched for what seemed like forever, until he caught a glimpse of you in an alleyway, almost entirely hidden from view. He easily recognized your clothes you had been wearing that day and your hair — oh, how he loved that hair. 

Relief flooded him as he rushed towards you, though it disappeared, his heart plummeting as he dropped to his knees.

“Hey, Doll, wake up. . . It's okay, it's over.” He said, his voice shaky as his hands came up to either side of your face. 

“You did good. . . You played dead so you could survive. They're gone now — you can open your eyes, Doll. . . Please open your eyes. . .” He begged softly, his touch and voice becoming more frantic.

“No, no, no, open your eyes for me, okay? I know you're mad at me, Doll, I'm sorry. . . I'm so sorry. . . Wake up. . . Wake up. . . Wake up. . .” He pulled your body closer to his, clutching you close. One hand held the back of your head to his chest, the other trailed down to your stomach. 

Too many emotions clawed at him as he begged you to wake up, to give up the charade. . . He made promises to make it up to you. He'd spend more time at home with you. He'd give up on his obsession with Alastor. He'd do it. He would do it for you. . . 

But it was too late. . . The blood that soaked your clothes and his was a chilling reminder. . . The all powerful TV Demon choked out a sob as your skin turned cold beneath his hands. 

His world stopped spinning, the axis snapping and floating off into the abyss as he held you close. . . He wasn't used to feeling your skin cold. He was used to the warmth, the life, the light that came from you. 

He couldn't feel you. 

And it killed him. 

He couldn't breathe. His chest ached. Nothing in all of Hell mattered more than you. More than the child that had been created out of love and the use of a loophole within Hell's complex laws of nature. 

And now it had been ripped away from him. He hated himself. He was angry. 

It felt as if the light and warmth had been sucked out of his universe, leaving nothing but cold darkness that seeped into his very soul, gnawing at him, tearing him apart from the inside out. 

He could hardly remember his afterlife before you. Now, facing a reality where he'd have to live in an afterlife without you. . . It consumed him in all the wrong ways. . . 

He wanted you back. 

He needed you back. 

Yet the darkness that gnawed and clawed at his entire being, the absence of you — your light that was supposed to guide him through this perpetual landscape of flame and rot for all eternity. . . The shadows remained like a constant reminder, a plague of its own, slowly eating away at him at every opportunity. 

Without your light, he was nothing. 

Without your laugh, he was nothing. 

Without your attitude, he was nothing. 

Without your warmth, he was nothing.

Nothing more than a shell of the overlord he used to be. . . And when the shadows clawed at his mind like a beast seeking a debt to be paid, he let them win. 

He let it all fade to black. 

[praisetheaxolotl]

The Arsonist Theory, Part 2: We Get It, The Billboard Was A Metaphor

Part 1: Mandibles!

First off, I want to say thank you all for giving the first part of my theory such love! I appreciate each and every one of you and I'm so happy that you all like my theories so much!

For those who are new here, the Arsonist Theory proposes that Bill wasn't alone in destroying his dimension- rather, he was used by a third party. This is part two of four, with the remaining two parts coming out very, very soon.

Also, same as before:

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE BOOK OF BILL, INCLUDING SOLUTIONS TO CIPHERS

Let's get into it, shall we?

In The Great Gatsby, certain motifs have more than one symbolic meani-- no, really, stay with me here!!

...Okay, fine. Let's back up.

In the Book Of Bill, you'll find a webpage called thisisnotawebsitedotcom.com. Go there, and you'll be prompted to enter a password. Go back to the Book of Bill, and hidden in a stretched-text section, you'll see the phrase NEED A PASSWORD? FINE, I'LL TALK / IT'S THE NAME OF THE EYEBALL DOC.

"The eyeball doc" is from the excerpts of The Great Gatsby further back in the book-- T.J. Eckleburg.

(Honestly, this explanation is moreso that context doesn't get lost to time.)

So... Gatsby. T.J. Eckleburg.

Hirsch could have chosen any number of public domain novels for that gag in the book... so why this one? Why tie it in by making it the password?

I believe it has some significance to the greater plot. Furthermore, eye doctors in general are a large point of Bill's early life in Euclidia. Take the silly straws- the red one has a numeric cipher, while the other three use a Caesar cipher.

In the order of RGBY, they read as follows:

TWISTED OUT OF SHAPE AFTER THE KILL / THE GHOSTS OF HIS FAMILY ARE HAUNTING HIM STILL Eye doctor of a different kind / Who wants to make his patients blind The doctor says / Three sips a day / Will make the visions / Go away Fussy eater / Baby Billy / Wouldn't drink / Unless it's silly

These ciphers refer to a certain couple of tidbits Bill tells us about his home.

One- He could see the third dimension. A rare mutation.

Two- Talking about it at all was illegal.

So, what were his parents to do when their son started talking about nonsense that was illegal to even mention? Well, if your child started acting strange and seeing things that weren't there... you would take them to the doctor.

It's clear to me that Bill's parents were concerned about the "visions" their son was experiencing, and took him to the doctor to cure them- an eye doctor that wants to make his patients blind. The blue straw explains how the medicine is supposed to work. The yellow straw explains why Bill has such a fondness for silly straws- he was a picky little kid, and hated his medicine, so his parents got him silly straws to drink it out of.

I wonder if that's why he collects them- because they remind him of home, of his mother urging him to take his medicine, of his life before all of this happened.

But never mind all that.

The thing is, an eye doctor is crucial to Bill's past, which of course brings me back to T.J. Eckleburg.

In The Great Gatsby, certain motifs have more than one symbolic meaning, and the eyes of T.J. Eckleburg are no exception.

(Okay full disclosure, I have not actually read Gatsby and I'm Sparknotes-ing this shit. But, so did all of you when you were assigned this in high school, so we're even.)

They appear on a billboard in a place called the Valley Of Ashes, and at first, they seem to symbolize God. But as the scenes continue, they take on a different meaning.

See, our POV character, Nick, is going on this journey to meet the mistress of his friend. Nick is aware that this is an immoral action, yet does it anyway. Now, the eyes of Eckleburg cast judgement... along with issue a warning.

They now take on a new meaning-- a foreboding omen about the tragedy that lies in wait, inching ever closer. The tragedy in Gatsby being the death of Myrtle, the mistress, and subsequent string of deaths that follow it-- and, curiously, Nick states that the eyes of Eckleburg almost supernaturally draw him someplace... which ends up being where Myrtle is.

Both a higher being, and a warning of a horrible tragedy that ends in death upon death upon death... curious!

What's more curious is when Bill is admonishing the story and Un-Gatsby-ing us, he says this:

The billboard is a metaphor? Why mention that? Out of all the symbolism in this book, why the billboard? Is it because it was mentioned in the preceding pages? Then why mention the theme of the American Dream being a myth? That wasn't on those pages! If you had to mention symbolism, the green light would have been the most iconic example of it from the book.

So why the billboard?

Is, perhaps, the image of some sort of higher power watching you, admonishing you of the tragedy you will have a hand in causing, supernaturally pulling you to someone that will be the catalyst for it all.... relevant somehow, to Bill?

(And, as a sidenote- the theme of the American Dream being hollow could also apply here, as Bill got what he wanted- freedom into the third dimension, Weirdmageddon, all of it. But he's still not happy and still wracked with guilt over Euclidia, ultimately an interloper in a place he doesn't belong in, just as Nick says at the end of the novel that he is a Midwesterner unsuited to life in the East Coast city.)

Let's talk about Flatland.

It's interesting to note that in the original novel, A. Square does have help witnessing the third dimension-- a Sphere contacts him, and tells him about the third dimension, intending to use the Square as a conduit to educating the rest of Flatland.

This, of course, leads to mass imprisonments and executions, one of said imprisonments being of the Square's own brother, with the Square being imprisoned himself at the end of the book.

Point being... in the original story of Flatland, the two-dimensional outsider was visited by a higher being, one that used him to alter Flatland and only ended up causing chaos and ruining lives.

All I'm saying is, the Book of Bill and Bill's story in general draws parallels to two existing books-- Flatland, and now The Great Gatsby. It would be foolish to write this off as a random occurrence when the game of Gravity Falls has always been analyzing the smallest of details. I believe the choice in book was on purpose, and moreso, that it was specifically used to hint that maybe Bill wasn't alone in all this. There was some kind of higher being that influenced him, just as the Square was influenced. That looked down upon him with impossibly wide eyes, pulling him closer and closer to ruin.

Oh, by the way-- Bill up there mentions being touchy about his weaknesses ever since... something. This is clearly his death, but... is that all he means? But that's gonna be in part four.

Next time, it's all about the many cycles and the distinct breaking of them present in Gravity Falls itself, and what that means for Bill as the villain and foil to them.

Part 3: Journey To The Vicious Spiral Nebula

Part 4: Blame The Arson, Not The Fire

[writinginatree]

Candlelight, Roses and a Locked Door

Relationship(s): Bodhi Durran/female!Tavis!reader, Bodhi Durran & Xaden Riorson & Garrick Tavis, background Xaden Riorson/Violet Sorrengail

Summary: Garrick and Xaden are sick and tired of having to witness your and Bodhi's endless pining, so they hatch a plan to finally get the two of you together.

Warnings: Swearing, set during Iron Flame, Xaden's POV

Xaden has had enough. If he has to keep watching Bodhi and you dance around each other like lovesick puppies without actually acting on your feelings any longer, he'll lose what little patience he has left and smush both of your faces together like a kid playing with dolls. Maybe he should. Clearly this isn't getting anywhere without outside help, despite how glaringly obvious your and Bodhi's mutual attraction is to everyone else.

"That seems a little extreme," Violet notes, catching the thought through their mental connection. "Though I have to agree that they could use a little push in the right direction."

"Well, they're about to get a little push, all right," Xaden decides, giving her a conspirative little smile across the breakfast table as the beginnings of a plan take form in his head.

He'll have to get Garrick to help, too, and find an empty room to use. They'll do it today, he decides — it's the weekend, so you and Bodhi should have time, and it's not often that that's the case while him and Garrick are home and can say the same. No time to waste.

"What are you up to, exactly?" Violet wants to know.

"We're going to set them up on a date. Candlelight, rose petals, and a locked door."

"It's winter, Xaden. Where are we supposed to get roses from?"

Shit. He didn't consider that. Okay, strike the rose petals then. He'll think of something else.

"Maybe there's some flowers up in the valley we could use instead? There's no snow up there."

"Maybe," Violet agrees, "but, uh, what's with the 'locked door' part? You just want to lock them in a room together and hope that'll make them finally confess their feelings?"

"Well... basically, yes."

Xaden can sense that Violet is sceptical, and he has to admit that phrased like that, his plan doesn't sound all that good. It's the surrounding circumstances that will make it work — hopefully.

"Could you try and find some candles? I'll get Garrick, then we can go over the details of the plan together."

"Alright. I'll meet you in our room?"

"Yeah."

After breakfast, he pulls Garrick aside, giving no explanation as to what exactly it is he needs his best friend's help with. He doesn't want to explain his plan twice, or even mention what the goal is with others in earshot. Having you or Bodhi overhear it would ruin the whole thing, and it's not like anyone else needs to know that he's sticking his nose into things that technically aren't any of his business.

It's true that there's a whole pile of other things he could — and should — be doing. Tomorrow he and Garrick will leave for the front again — maybe not the worst thing, considering there's no telling how Bodhi and you will react if you do become aware of their meddling.

"We've got to do something about Bodhi and Y/N," he tells Garrick once they're safe behind the soundshield protecting his room. "It's getting ridiculous with them."

There's no need to elaborate — your brother is well aware of the situation, and certainly just as tired of watching it as Xaden is. When the four of you were kids, they used to joke about you and Bodhi being in love — the idea had seemed funny and vaguely embarrassing then, but it long since became obvious there was truth in those jokes. Now the constant pining is just annoying for everyone forced to witness it. As your closest friends, Xaden and Garrick are the main victims of this, but they're far from the only ones. Xaden is fairly sure that by now, every rider in Aretia has at least once wondered what the fuck the both of you are waiting for. Well, everyone, with the exception of those who believe you already are dating, of course. An outsider might easily make that assumption, but unfortunately, Xaden and Garrick know better.

The part that annoys Xaden the most is that he can't for the life of him figure out why neither of you is acknowledging your feelings for each other. He can't think of a single reason for it that would make sense, which, he supposes, means you and Bodhi simply are idiots forever waiting for the other to make the first move. But not much longer. Not on his watch.

"And what are we supposed to do about that?" Garricks asks.

"We're setting them up on a date," Xaden declares, just as Violet enters the room. She actually managed to find a couple of candles, triumphantly holding them up.

Garrick isn't convinced yet, though Xaden is sure he'll approve of his scheme once he's heard the details. "You think that'll help?"

"If that doesn't do the trick, they're a hopeless case for sure. I have a plan, okay? Just hear me out."

He starts laying out his plan, and by the end of his explanation, Garrick and Violet are both nodding.

"That might just work," his best friend agrees. "As long as they don't immediately see through it."

Xaden nods. "That's the tricky part. But unless you have any better ideas, we'll just have to go with this and hope for the best."

Neither of them does, so they decide to go through with Xaden's plan.

For maximum effect, the actual date will have to take place in the evening, but there's plenty of preparations to be made to kill the time. As the location, they decide to use an empty storage room in the basement — not the most romantic setting, admittedly, but private and inconspicuous, and, most importantly, with a good old sturdy lock on the door. After removing layers of dust and cobwebs, and setting up a small table with two chairs (they even found a tablecloth with cute lace edges that only faintly smells of smoke!) and decorating everything with the candles and what few flower petals they managed to find, Xaden would almost dare call the result cozy.

When everything is ready and the time for dinner is drawing near, they set out to put the plan into motion. Violet returns to the library and her work on Warrick's journal, but not before making Xaden promise to keep her updated on how it goes. He heads to Bodhi's room, while Garrick goes to get you.

"Xaden?"

"Come with me."

Used to Xaden's being in charge, Bodhi easily obliges. "What's going on?"

It's a good thing Bodhi is walking behind him, because Xaden can't help the grin spreading over his face. "You're going on a date with Y/N."

"Wait, what?" Bodhi sputters, steps faltering.

Xaden reaches back without looking and pulls him onward. "You heard me. Come on, you don't want to keep her waiting, do you?"

"I guess not? But— what do you mean, a date? Like— like a date date?"

"Obviously."

"Really? She wants a date with me? Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. Trust me."

It's not even a lie. Even if this date will be just as much a surprise for you as it is for Bodhi, Xaden is one hundred percent certain that you secretly dream of something like it — just as surely as Bodhi does, too.

Garrick is lingering in the basement hall when they get there, giving them a thumbs-up and a wink. Bodhi is still trying to get more information about his date, but Xaden ignores his questions, opens the door of the room you're already waiting in, and unceremoniously shoves his cousin inside.

Shutting the door, Xaden locks it twice. It's showtime.

"Did he just lock the door?" your voice reaches the hallway.

Wonderful — Xaden won't even need his signet to eavesdrop. Garrick is already standing by his side, ear pressed to the wood of the door so he won't miss a thing. They grin at each other. This should be fun.

"Sounded like it," Bodhi replies to you.

"What do we do if they try to get out now?" Garrick whispers.

"Why would they?"

"Maybe they don't want to be locked up in your basement?"

"They're on a date, Garrick, that's the only thing they care about right now. Besides, they have to know we'll let them back out eventually."

"Eventually, huh?"

"Yeah. Eventually."

"And if this doesn't go as planned? Are we just going to let them rot in there?"

Xaden shrugs, refusing to consider defeat. "In that case we'll just have to think of something else."

Even though they can hear everything being said inside just fine, Xaden uses his shadow signet to keep tabs on what's happening, too. Would be a shame if they missed any important developments like handholding or even a kiss just because they can't see what's happening.

"What are they doing?" Garrick whispers.

"Nothing interesting," Xaden whispers back. "They sat down and are starting to eat now."

It's silent for a moment, then you ask, "So, uh, you planned all this?"

Uh-oh. Not good.

"What? I thought you did?"

"Uh, no? Garrick said—"

You trail off, locking eyes with Bodhi as understanding dawns on both of your faces.

"They tricked us," you groan.

Well, shit. Xaden had known you'd figure it out eventually, but he'd hoped it wouldn't happen until after the date. Good thing they're prepared for all eventualities. This is where the locked door part of his plan comes in. Neither of you is getting out of that room until you've admitted your feelings for each other.

"But why?" Bodhi wonders aloud. "Just to mess with us? That doesn't really seem like them."

"Maybe they thought we need to relax? Which would be ironic, considering they're the ones constantly overworking themselves... But I can't think of any other reason."

"Yeah, me neither."

"You've got to be shitting me," Xaden mutters under his breath. How two normally smart and competent people can be so ridiculously oblivious when it comes to each other is beyond him. Will he have to walk in there and smush your faces together after all?

"No one can be that fucking stupid," Garrick whispers next to him, ear still pressed to the door. "No one. Maybe they've long gotten together and are just pretending they didn't to drive us insane."

"I wish, man. I wish."

Inside the room, Bodhi shrugs. "Well, since we're here already, we might as well just enjoy it, right?"

"Right."

"We don't have to call it a date, of course."

"Of course. I don't mind though."

Garrick elbows him in the side, grinning. Xaden grins back. It's not much, but it is a tiny step in the right direction at least.

The brief wave of optimism quickly fades again. Eavesdropping on his little cousin's first ever date is more boring than Xaden could have ever imagined. The both of you talk about mundane bullshit, throw longing looks across the table, and continue to not. make. a. fucking. move. Xaden could strangle the both of you for being so godsdamned reluctant. Maybe his plan wasn't straightforward enough. Maybe he should raise the shadows from under the table and use them to smush your faces together. But with how dense you guys are being, he's starting to think not even that would get the point across.

Well, the date isn't over yet, and until it is, Xaden refuses to think of his plan as a failure. He still has one more trick prepared, though he'd hoped they wouldn't have to rely on it.

A few more minutes pass as you finish eating; when you're done, Xaden's shadows bring out two fortune cookies he'd hidden on a shelf, and place them in the middle of the table. You both jump, clearly not having expected his interference and probably now wondering if he's been spying on the whole date. Oh well.

"Uhm. Okay," Bodhi laughs. "Thanks, Xay."

"Are they reading them?" Garrick whispers.

Xaden nods, impatiently waiting for any reaction. For a few very long seconds, there is none.

Then Bodhi finally breaks the silence. "What does yours say?"

"It— uhm—"

Apparently too flustered to read it out loud, you put the little strip of paper into the middle of the table for Bodhi to read. He places his own beside it, hand brushing yours in the process.

The text on both is identical. Xaden knows, because he came up with it himself. With a little help from Violet's friends, they'd manipulated the cookies to say: Open your eyes and you will find that the love you feel is returned (Please just kiss already!!).

Bodhi and you are staring at each other across the table, but are you seeing the love?

"Come on," Garrick mutters. "This has to work."

As if on cue, you finally find your voice, softly saying, "It says we should kiss."

Bodhi nods. "Then I guess we'd better do that, huh? We wouldn't want to provoke fortune."

"Yeah. Yeah, we'd better listen."

Thank fucking gods. It really took long enough, but finally Bodhi leans over the table, lips meeting yours. Xaden bumps Garrick's shoulder and nods toward the stairs. Their job here is done, and he doesn't want to be witness to whatever happens next.

"Mission complete," he thinks in Violet's direction. "Now how about we have some alone time of our own before I have to leave?"

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

logan howlett x asexual!reader

notes: fluff, mentions of sex, kissing, nuanced take on asexuality.

It took you a long time to say yes to going out with Logan.

And it wasn’t simply a case of you ‘playing hard to get’. You have no desire to be a fling. Sure, you recognize that objectively, he is hot! And you think to yourself, maybe you’d give him a shot if he didn’t just want to sleep with you.

So, for months, he pines. And it’s a rather new experience, he’s used to people just throwing themselves at him after a few flirty conversations, but it takes almost four months for you to even agree to go out with him.

When you do, he makes sure to put in his best effort—You two go out to a really nice dinner, and then you go on this long drive to a cliff side, and you lean against his motorcycle, holding hands as you look to the stars.

His heart thumps as your thumb gently rubs against his knuckles.

So the two of you date—

You kiss, you eat lunch together, you spend long nights with your hands running through his hair, reading to him.

But you don’t sleep with him.

He thinks maybe it’s a religious thing or maybe some weird fetish, like you think waiting will make it even better. But he doesn’t ask you about it, because he remembers how long it took you to go out with him, so he keeps it to himself.

Until one day, about seven months into your relationship.

The snow whirls outside the X-Mansion, the wind rattling your windows, as you curl up in bed, wrapped in his flannel, a couple of blankets and his arms.

“Can I ask you a question, Spitfire?” He wonders.

“Anything.” You answer, meaning it whole heartedly.

The Wolverine feels himself get nervous before he asks,

“Why haven’t we had sex yet?” He asks, and you take a minute. You knew the conversation would happen eventually. Logan isn’t your first boyfriend, so you know that the people you’re with are owed an explanation. And you brace yourself—If he isn’t willing to listen to you on this, you’re ready to walk away.

You sit up so you can be looking at him—It’s rather intimate.

“I’m Asexual.” You answer.

A beat.

“A sexual what?”

You laugh a little, mostly because you think it’s silly, especially considering Logan isn’t straight (you see how he’s looked at Scott).

“No, Asexual—It means I experience little to no sexual attraction,” You answer, and he tilts his head.

He’s committed a lot of time to you already. The explanation sort of scares him, and he’s ready to run away but he stays put, not wanting you to think he can’t handle whatever it is you’ve just thrown at him—But he was born in the early 1800’s. Have a bit of grace for the man.

“Okay, What does that mean, though?” He asks, and you’re grateful he hasn’t broken up with you yet.

“So, I.. I really like you. I mean—I love you, Logan.” You confess, “But sex just.. isn’t something I need, especially not often. I get horny, It’s just.. Sex is different for me. I like making out with you, kissing you, touching you—and there might be times where I do want to have sex with you, probably to show my affection and grow closer to you—Sex isn’t procreation or pure pleasure to me, it’s something that I only like to do every once in a while and I do it as a way to get closer to whoever I love. Does that make sense?”

Logan nods. It does make sense—Sex isn’t your thing. And he knows historically, he’s been passed around by the other x-men like a blunt, but in dating you for a while, since you two haven’t slept together, he’s much more okay with that being more rare.

Sure, you’re both attracted to each other, and like you said, making out is really nice, but..

“Yeah.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“Well, I just..” he takes your hands in his, trying to convey what it is he wants to communicate. “We’re more than just dating. At least to me. No one’s ever been in my corner like you, and.. I don’t just look at you in a physical manner, I.. I look over my shoulder for you when I see something stupid or fun, because I want to share everything with you. I know it’s been rocky at times, but..” He clears his throat. You see tears well in his eyes and you just smile, your hand detaching from his to wipe a tear that runs down his face.

“I know.” You say softly, and he smiles.

“I don’t need sex to love you.” He tells you. He kisses you gently and asks, “Don’t feel like that’s ever something I need, okay, spitfire?”

“Okay, Claws.”

//i don't know what else to say about this other than i know i write smut often and graphically but i am in fact asexual, so i wanted to throw my hat in the ring for writing not only a queer reader but a reader who is asexual. you deserve a place in fanfiction too. also, readers description of asexuality is based off my own, so please remember that asexuality isn't a one size fits all thing.