#she said he was fighting another dog

[pitchblackveins]

some awful woman at the park asked my partner to leash herman and leave because she saw him being "aggressive" the other day; for "aggressive," read "existing as a pitbull"

[mirokuna-hime]

I'm really not good with theories and stuff, but I saw a couple of people speculate that Dazai was gonna say "die together" and while that is certainly beautiful in it's own way I prefer to think that Dazai was gonna end his sentence with "live".

Him and Chuuya are destined to live.

[joelsgoldrush]

“crawl home to her” | 7.5k

old man!logan x f!reader

SUMMARY: Will he be able to control himself once he's near you? In this moment, he feels more animal than human. Creeping, on the verge of crawling, back to you. OR Like a sinner seeking absolution, he finds his way back to you after every absence, as if you're the only salvation he's ever known.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni smut 18+ cursing. drinking. dirty talk. some fluff. comfort. feelings. self-deprecation. miscommunication. sort of established relationship. age gap (reader's in her late 20s). petnames. religious imagery. logan's POV. chauffeur!logan. dom!logan. reader wears logan's dog tags and clothes. pussy pronouns. phone sex. oral sex (f and m receiving). 69. fingering. masturbation (he jerks off in the limo). one (1) single spank. sort of rough sex. unprotected p in v. creampie.

A/N: i wrote this as a part 2 of this story, but still, it can be read as a standalone (i'd recommend that you also read the first part as well 👀 you'll understand their relationship better). hope you like this one! <3

Logan is tired. Bone-deep, soul-crushingly tired.

He takes a slow, deliberate drag from his cigar, letting the smoke curl inside his chest, teasing his lungs. Doesn’t even bother to crack the window open—why would he?—before exhaling, the haze lingering inside the limo like a fog.

One quick glance at his phone screen just to make sure his vision isn’t screwing him over—no older notifications. A pang of disillusionment settles in his being.

Not only is he fighting to keep his eyes open, exhausted from driving the same family around for the past few days while they enjoy their quality time, but he’s also bored out of his mind. 

Where the hell are you?

He adjusts his glasses, pushing them higher up on the bridge of his nose, preventing them from sliding down to his lap. When his phone buzzes, he jolts, nearly hitting his head on the roof of the limo due to his excitement.

His poor heart gallops as he fumbles with the screen, unlocking it with the same urgency as a man starved for contact.

But it’s not you. It’s one of his passengers.

We’re getting out in half an hour, the message reads. By we, she means herself, her husband, and their two kids.

Logan can’t bring himself to type an actual reply, so he leaves her on read. She knows he’s not going anywhere, parked outside the arcade as if he’s rooted in place with no way out.

Family after family enters that hell on earth, kids of all ages bouncing on their heels, voices shrill with enthusiasm. He watches, half-heartedly, as parents get dragged by their little ones, who negotiate how much money they are allowed to spend tonight.

He almost feels bad for those parents. Almost. He hopes that at least they know how to say ‘No’.

All in all, he’s got another thirty minutes of solitude ahead. The radio has long since ceased to entertain him. He’s been parked here for two hours, and his mind is starting to drift. He could stretch his legs, walk around, or maybe grab a drink—but damn it.

He wants to talk to you.

You’d said he could call you after dropping the family off. That was three hours ago. The last message he received from you was still stuck in his head, replaying over and over like a lifeline. Logan knows you must be busy, probably taking care of Charles and—

Okay, he’ll get back to that later.��

You: Just got out of the shower. Call me in five?

Right now, he could die a happy man. Were he a dog, his tail would be wagging furiously, anticipation already building for the simple joy of hearing you.

Logan: Got it.

The next five minutes feel like an eternity. He finishes his cigar, flicking the stub beneath the seat without giving it a second thought. For now, he doesn’t care about being a messy fucker. He’ll deal with the mess some other time.

Priorities.

A quick spritz of some cheap air freshener he picked up from a gas station fills the car, masking the distinctive scent of smoke. God forbid the kids start whining about how ‘weird’ it smells in the limo.

With a grimace, he sprays a little more—floral, of all scents? It feels insulting.

How kind of him to still be this considerate.

His thumb hovers over your contact, and he presses the call button with an agility he hasn’t had in years (thanks to you).

One, two, three rings, and then—

“Logan,” you say softly, your voice a little breathless, like you’ve been hurrying all over the place.

He stops grinding his jaw, the tension in his shoulders easing. He unclenches his fists, fingers uncurling one by one, as if letting go of some invisible burden.

Outside the vehicle, people stop dying, babies stop being born, and the world itself pauses just for him to listen to you.

You can’t see him, but he smiles either way. “Hey, baby.”

“Gosh, I’m so sorry. I lost track of time talking to Charles. We had dinner, and then I just—I felt so gross, you know? From cooking and all that. Took a shower, and it got pretty late.”

You end with a sigh, and he imagines you rubbing a hand over your face. “Please tell me you weren’t sleeping when I texted you.”

“Not even close. Still waiting for them.”

“They’re really taking their time, huh?”

“You wouldn’t believe it,” he murmurs, his fingers drumming a soft rhythm on the steering wheel. “How was your day?”

“Great! I’m already in bed.”

“My bed.”

You laugh, that sweet sound making his heart stutter. “Well, yeah. Where else do you want me to sleep if I’m at your place? On the floor?”

If someone had told Logan a year ago that he’d let someone live in his space, let alone take care of Charles, he’d have scoffed. "Pathetic," he’d have said, rolling his eyes with that familiar growl in his throat. Pretty sure he’d also puffed his chest while saying so.

Because Logan Howlett wasn’t one for accepting help. He’s been on his own since the earth was still cooling down.

But for you? He made exceptions. Plenty of them. And if it weren’t for your altruism, he wouldn’t have accepted this job—a job that pays well enough to cover Charles’ meds and put food on the table. He needs this rich family’s money.

“You’ve got a girlfriend now?” Charles had asked, when Logan explained he’d be staying with you while he went away for a few days.

“Big word you’re using there,” Logan had replied, placing two pills into Charles’ palm. The old man gave him a death stare. “Don’t play dumb. It’s not like you don’t know the drill.”

Mumbling something incoherent before swallowing the pills, Charles had taken slow sips of water between each one, sinking back into the mattress with a weary sigh. “If she’s not your girlfriend, then what is she?”

“A friend.”

“That’s nice. Is that what they’re calling it now?”

He shakes that memory away, forcing his mind back to the call. “Try not to be so kind to him. What if he falls in love with you?” he inquires, a mocking tone weaving through his words. 

And that’s when you drop the bombshell. “You mean like you did?” 

You laugh, but Logan… doesn’t. He can’t do it. He makes sure he’s breathing on command: in and out, in and out, in and out. 

The mention of love unsettles him. He doesn’t feel safe anymore, doesn’t know what game you’re playing. Where’s the rulebook?

Is he—could he be—falling in love with you? Is that what you’re implying? And if so, do you feel the same?

In the long run, you mumble: “It was a joke.” Only then do his lungs fill with fresh air, untainted by the weight of his unease. But he can’t let it pass, the fact you sound disappointed. Defeated.

He promised himself he’d never hurt you. Though he doesn’t intend to, it feels as if he’s just stabbed you in the back, twisting the knife further into your frame—unwillingly.

“Remember the—” he pauses a moment, throwing his head back in frustration, silently cursing himself. “The pills. You’ve been giving them to him, right?”

“Yes, Logan.”

“Please, remember it’s only—”

“Logan,” you try again, cutting through the wave of his spiraling thoughts. He can picture you behind closed lids, looking at him through your lashes, your hand resting gently on his chest. “I have it under control, okay? He’s doing alright. I swear I’m taking good care of him.”

“I don’t doubt that, honey.” Casting a glance at the rearview mirror, he feels an unexpected sense of longing for your presence there, like a ghost haunting his every move, confined to the limits of his brain. “Can’t help but worry. That’s all.”

A soft hum reverberates through the line. He hears the rustle of sheets, the sound of you tossing around in his bed, and his pulse quickens at the thought.

“You said you’re sleepin’ on my bed.”

“Good memory you have.”

“You wearin’ my clothes as well?”

 Thick silence, the kind he relishes.

“Yeah,” you finally reply, shifting the phone from side to side. You take a deep breath, and add: “I forgot to bring mine.”

He hates how you easily find a way to get him riled up despite being miles away. It must be the power of words.

“I don’t believe you.” He knows he shouldn’t, hates himself for doing it, but one of his hands palms the half-hard bulge in his black slacks, suppressing a low groan. “Think you did it on purpose.”

A rush of heat, sharp and urgent, washes over him. Is he really about to do this? Get himself off in the very car he uses for work? Twisted, incredibly sick of him, he thinks.

Still, he craves more. “Tell me what you’re wearing.”

You laugh at his demanding tone, fanning the flames of his desperation. “When did you turn into a horny teenager?”

“Always been, baby,” Logan purrs, undoing the button of his pants, followed by the fly. His eyes flick upwards for just a moment—no cars, no one in sight. He’s presumably alone. It’s all the confirmation he needs to say: “C’mon. Tell your old man what clothes you stole from him.”

He’s never done this before—phone sex. He’s heard about it, sure, but never imagined he’d fall so hard for the idea. The thrill of it sinks into him, electrifying.

What are you doing? Is your lip caught between your teeth? Do your eyes wander down your own body? Maybe your fingers are already skimming over your skin.

“It’s just a random shirt,” you murmur. “Plain, white.”

“What else?”

“There’s nothing else.”

Logan’s breath hitches as his hand moves to his cock, spotting the damp patch on his briefs where the tip has already started to leak. The moment he slides the elastic down past his balls, he fists his shaft in a slow stroke, going from the base to the head. “No panties? And you expect me t’believe this wasn’t planned?”

Your muffled whimper is like molten lava spilling into his ear, bringing him to full hardness. More shuffling follows on your end, driving him wild with the anticipation. “Why do you do this to me if you’re not here?”

“‘Cause I want you touchin’ yourself just like I’m doin’.” He thumbs the head, hips jerking involuntarily at the sensation. He aches to feel your mouth there instead. “Bet that pussy’s been cryin’ out for me, huh? Must’ve got used to me fillin’ her every other night.”

Your breathing grows more uneven, small gasps filtering through the speaker. “I need you here with me. This is—ugh—not enough.”

“What’s not enough, sweetheart?”

There’s a pause as the sound of your phone shifts again, and then he hears it clearly—the wet, needy sound of your fingers working between your legs, filling the silence with the loud squelching of your cunt. “My fingers,” you blurt out, more distant than before, like you’re merging with the bed, dissolving with every touch.

Logan spits roughly into his palm, the slickness of his saliva easing the drag of his calloused hand along his length, good enough to make the movement more satisfying.

He moans aloud, eyes shut tight, your name slipping from his lips, a whispered prayer, as if saying it could somehow summon you to his side. “I spoil you too much,” he rasps, wedging his phone between his ear and shoulder, using every resource available to him, anything to feel something real. “Seems like you’ve forgotten how to make yourself come.”

Your moans follow his, the breathy sounds a clear sign of how close you are, hanging on the edge, your release just a heartbeat away. But it’s not enough, and you need him. He wonders if you can feel his thoughts from miles away, because— “Want your cock so bad, Lo. I m-miss you.”

He has to stop jerking himself to hold off his orgasm, stomping his foot against the pedals. “Fuck, darlin’. You keep sayin’ those things and I swear I’ll be back with you by morning.”

His sole focus now is you—getting you to come. Driven by his growing frenzy, it’s the only coherent thought that claws through the haze in his mind. “Keep talking, please,” you plead, fingers still lost in the heat of your body. “Tell me what you’ll do to me when you see me.”

Logan picks up the rhythm again, his movements faltering as his chest heaves, ragged breaths spilling out while his hand works faster. “Gonna fuck you slow and deep, just how you like it. Face to face, so you can kiss me as much as you want, ‘cause I know my girl loves that, am I right?”

My girl. He’ll regret that one the second the high fades and clarity sets in.

Word after word falls from his lips without thought, uncontrollable, as though he’s surrendered to the storm of desire raging in his being—a storm in which your name is the eye of it all.

You are everywhere, and you take up all the empty spaces he thought were impossible to fill, sinking into the depths of his unconsciousness.

Not a single part of him is left untouched by you, by the power of your presence in his life, consuming him in ways he never imagined.

Your airy mewls ripple through the line, feeding his ravenousness, adding to the tightening knot of pleasure coiling low in his abdomen. His muscles strain, thighs tensing. Each stroke of his hand prolongs this sweet torture. 

“Come for me, princess. You’d make me so h-happy if you came right now.”

And you do, because it’s not just his touch anymore—it’s his voice, and the way he commands you without force. How you’ve become accustomed to him, nodding along to each instruction he mutters.

Beneath your fingers, your swollen clit pulses, and though he can’t see it, he imagines it perfectly, having spent enough time worshiping it.

He knows, even from a distance, what your body must be doing. Your back arching off the bed, thighs quivering and clenching tight around your own hand. Those perfect legs of yours trembling as you reach your so-desired climax.

Loud and unrestrained, you moan, and for a moment, he wants to be with you so badly that he ponders if the theory of traveling across time and space sounds that far-fetched after all.

Logan doesn't need much after that for the thread to snap at long last, his groans dying on his lips as he stares in awe at the spurts of his seed landing wherever his eyes fall: a bit on the top of his pants, on his hand, his briefs. His cock twitches in his grip as he continues stroking himself through the aftershocks, gulping when it becomes too much to handle.

So phone sex is off the list now. Great.

“Miss you, too,” he mumbles once he’s caught his breath, tossing his glasses onto the passenger seat. His forehead feels damp to the touch, and he contemplates when was the last time he came this hard.

The elephant in the room hasn’t been addressed yet. He knows you expect him to say more, something deeper and rawer, but that’s all he can force himself to spit out.

Sometimes, he forgets that you can’t read him all the time. Although you know him better than anyone else, there are certain thoughts and memories locked tightly inside him, things you'd never discover on your own. Secrets he admits he should share with you, but he’s at a loss for how. Words aren’t doable when he needs them the most.

Maybe it's a matter of age—you’re a natural at voicing your feelings.

At some point, you ask: “When did you say you were returning?”

One thing’s clear: he can’t afford to lose you. He’d be an idiot if he let that happen.

“In five days, I think.” Were he with you, he'd hold you in his arms, kissing your lips. God, how he misses kissing you. All of you. “I’ll keep you updated.”

“It’s okay,” you respond, and in his mind, a blank canvas fills with the familiar image of you lying on your side, curling into a ball the way you always do. “I should go to sleep. Talk to you tomorrow.”

“Sure.” Thank you for everything. “Get some rest.” Are you still in love with me? “Bye.” I’m coming back. You know how I feel about you, do you?

So much left unsaid, words he lacks the strength to speak. That, along with his come-stained clothes. And, of course, the limousine now perfumed like a flower shop.

Exhaustion clings to him again.

His luck has never been this good.

The next afternoon, one of the couple’s kids falls ill. Must be something he ate, the woman tells Logan, her voice light, though he can hear the shuffle of urgency behind her words.

Her husband packs their bags in the background, the muted thuds of luggage hitting the floor. You know how children are. Their hands are always filthy!

What she doesn’t realize is that Logan, in fact, doesn’t know how children are, because how could he?

He’s holed up in the hotel across the street, his only responsibility being to wait on their call, ready to drive whenever they needed him. Needless to say, his accommodations are nothing like theirs. Not that he minds it—he’s not one for luxury, has never needed it.

Truth be told, he’s no stranger to beds that groan if you shift slightly, clogged toilets that spit back water like they’re alive.

Joy rushes through him when he hears the news. He’s coming back earlier than expected, a thrill building in his chest. Twelve days he’s been away, his greed growing with each second in that desolate hotel room.

Now, the beating of his heart quickens, a faint thrumming as he stares out the window. He debates whether to let you know about his early return or keep it as a surprise. Would it be better if he just showed up?

How would you feel, knowing that, by the time the lights are out, he’ll be yours again?

He knows he should feel sorry for the poor kid, but all he can muster is a look of concern that barely reaches his eyes. Each time they pull into a gas station, he listens to the hurried slap of footsteps as the boy rushes for the bathroom to empty his insides.

He watches in the rearview as the kid’s father shakes his head, clicking his tongue with disapproval. “Do you have kids?” he asks, his voice forced into a casual tone, like he’s trying to break the silence that’s settled between them. 

Logan’s only response is to turn up the radio, some pop song he’s never heard spilling from the speakers. The lyrics are a blur of nonsense to him, but it’s enough to drown out the man’s words and the boy’s misery.

Some things never change.

As the sun dips below the horizon, he’s finally free, no longer at anyone’s beck and call. He contemplates the possibility of getting a speeding ticket, weighing his options. It hardly matters. The pull to see you, to feel you, is stronger than anything else.

Even though he tries to think of another time in his life when he felt such a raw need, no memory comes close.

When he does pull up to his place, he does it quietly. Parking the limo, he doesn’t honk, doesn’t announce himself. Fumbling with the keys ever so lightly so as not to wake you up, fitting them into the lock.

His wrist twists, and the door gives way with a soft creak.

Anxiety ripples through him as he steps inside. The smell of freshly cooked food hits him, but it only tightens the knot in his stomach, reminding him of how long it’s been since he last ate.

Later, he tells himself. After. Once he’s sated his true hunger—the kind of hunger that can only be satisfied by sinking his fingers into something real, fleshy, malleable. 

Hunger—yes, it’s animalistic, feral even. Will he be able to control himself once he’s near you? In moments like this, he feels more animal than human. Creeping, on the verge of crawling, back to you.

His feet take him to his bedroom, knowing the path to it very well. Fingers hovering over the knob, he takes a deep breath.

It’s already late, past midnight, yet energy courses through his veins as though he’s just woken from a long, ethereal dream.

He finds you asleep, your body wrapped snugly in the sheets, clutching a pillow close to your chest. Your cheek is pressed into it, breathing soft and steady, lulling him in. Kneeling on the edge of the bed, he kicks off his shoes, then slips in beside you, mirroring your position. 

A lamp sits on his nightstand, one that isn’t his, and he figures you must have brought it from your apartment. There has to be a symbolism for that.

It’s incredible how his entire world can fit into such a narrow bed.

The smart thing would be to let you sleep, to simply watch you for a moment longer. But he can’t help himself.

His thumb lingers near your face before gently cupping your cheek, and the very first contact with your skin sends a shudder through him, the warmth of your skin grounding him. He trails his fingers down to your chin, holding it with just enough pressure to remind himself that he’s here.

Leaning in, he presses his lips softly against your forehead, your typical perfume wrapping around him like a welcome.

Welcome home, Logan.

For the first time, he feels that someone’s been counting down the minutes until his return. He’d always believed a person like him didn’t deserve this. That he just wasn’t built for it.

Countless years had he spent convincing himself he’d never be the kind of man who could inspire love. His life had already been written long ago—predetermined by some cruel hand in the sky.

Destiny, fate, call it what you want—once the cards are laid out, there’s no escaping them. Or so he used to think.

You had taken that pen into your own hands, rewriting his future. You, of all people, had changed his life. No matter what the future held for the two of you, he’d always be grateful. Grateful that you’d seen the dim spark in him that others had chosen to ignore.

Thoughtlessly, his fingers continue their gentle strokes along your cheek, your hair. You stir beside him, shifting in your sleep. Your eyes flutter open, close again, and then open once more, blinking in confusion.

“Logan?” you croak, voice still groggy and thick with sleep, coming to your senses. Before he can respond, you throw yourself on top of him, smothering his face with kisses. “Why—how—”

“Sweetheart,” he says, attempting to hide his grin, but failing when your kisses shift to his neck, your nose nuzzling against his skin. A laugh slips out, warmth flooding his chest.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming home early!”

Home. Had he heard right? Had you used that word knowingly?

Peering into your eyes, he catches his reflection in your pupils, tiredness etched into his features. “Wanted it to be a surprise.”

“You could’ve told me,” you reply, fingers threading through his greying locks, massaging his scalp. You place a tender kiss on the tip of his nose. “I would’ve waited up for you at least.”

“Well, I’m here now,” he whispers back, gaze drifting to your lips, and you close the space between you, his sigh mingling with yours as one hand cradles the small of your back, fisting the fabric of his shirt. His other hand tilts your head, inviting your tongues to greet each other in an unhurried dance.

You move languidly on top of him, and he notices, breaking the kiss and pulling back. “You’re gonna fall asleep on me, are you?”

The way your lashes flutter in response should be illegal. “I could use a human-size pillow.”

“I should shower first.”

“No.”

“Baby, I smell like gas.”

“So?”

A smirk tugs at his lips at your insistence, and he gently lays you back against the mattress. Drawn to your charm once again, he licks into your mouth, mentally scolding himself when he gets carried away, letting the kiss linger longer than intended.

“I’ll be quick,” he promises, pulling the sheets over your body. Resigned, you simply nod, settling on your side.

Ten minutes later, you’re dozing off, teetering on the edge of unconsciousness when he slips into bed, wrapping himself around you from behind. One arm drapes over your waist, the other cushions your head, and there’s not a patch of skin between you left untouched.

Fatigue begins to delve deeper into his bones the longer he stays curled around you, but before the weight of sleep takes him, and the silence steals his chance, he huffs: “I missed you.” His beard grazes your skin in a soft, unintentional caress.

You pull his wrist to your lips, pressing a short-lived kiss to the inside of it. “Missed you, too.”

How the roles have reversed.

In the quietness of this starless night, you leave him no other choice but to believe you.

3:34 a.m. Still hostage to the lack of light outside. The world remains submerged in the gentle tides of sleep, undulating between dreams, except for him.

Logan wakes up at 3:34 a.m. because he’s rock hard, and being flushed against your back wasn’t helping him with his situation at all. If anything, it only heightened it.

He sits at the edge of the bed, his mind running in circles, debating whether he should jump to his feet and head to the bathroom for another shower—this time, a cold one. Returning to sleep, at least in this moment, is not a viable option.

His gaze drifts to the moonlight spilling through the window, casting its pale glow across the room. Is this your doing? The question lingers, unshakable, in his thoughts. It remains as just that: a question.

When you quietly rest your chin on his shoulder, he stifles a sigh, biting the inside of his cheek. Your voice breaks through the quiet.

“What’s wrong? Can’t sleep?” Wrapping your arms around him from behind, you circle his frame, in an effort to persuade him to sink back into the mattress.

“It’s nothing,” he says, pulse accelerating. Please, don’t look down. “I’ll be back in a second.”

“But what is—”

He doesn’t get to hear the rest of your sentence. You do look down, finding the outline of his hardened cock straining against his briefs, stealing your full attention.

“Wow.”

“Go back to sleep.”

“And leave you like this?” One hand creeps toward his waistband, your breath warm against his ear. “Wouldn’t miss this for anything in the world.”

Your nails trace a path through the coarse hair at his navel, and Logan tenses. His legs feel like jelly as you cup his balls, fondling them gently between your fingers.

Behind him, your low chuckle stirs something primal in him, making his blood thrum hot beneath his skin. He should be the one doing this to you, not the other way around.

“Darlin’, I don’t—” He’s cut off by his own guttural groan when you fist his length, pumping him in rhythm with his uneven breaths. “I don’t need this.”

“Seems like you do,” you whisper, momentarily halting your ministrations to place your palm in front of his face, hoping he takes the hint. You kiss his stubble, pausing just short of his mouth. “I want to take care of you. Always do.”

Your palm hovers before him, inviting. Grabbing your wrist, he licks it, coating it in his spit and guiding you back down to him. Together, your hands glide along his length, and his gaze locks onto yours, the intensity of it making his neck tense.

You beam with delight under his stare. That red organ caged within his ribs—a blood-pumping machine of passion—surges back to life as he sees you.

He had won the battle. He had triumphed over his past; had lived enough lives, endured enough years, to arrive at this moment.

This had to be the purpose of his existence: to share this part of his stay on earth with you.

“You’re so hard,” you say, twisting your wrist at the tip of his cock, reveling in every buck of his hips, each movement a reflection of his exaltation. “Guess you did miss me.”

With a quiet growl, he reaches behind, nudging your thighs apart until they find your mound, cupping you through your underwear. “I’m not the only one who’s been missin’ someone.” He pulls the fabric aside, sliding his fingers through your wet folds. His nostrils flare as he feels how ready you are. “Why am I not surprised?”

Your breath hitches, and you press yourself closer against him, your tits against his back, mouth teasing at his neck. “That’s what happens when you’re gone.” Another kiss on his nape. “You could take me with you next time.”

“Can’t do that,” he answers, teasing your entrance. “No work would get done.”

His movements cease to a stop. Yours do too. Turning his head just enough to glance over his shoulder, he scrutinizes your expression, pride swelling in his chest as he takes in your affected state.

“You’re not goin’ back to sleep, are you?”

There’s the shake of your head. A single word escapes your lips, imbued with pure fervor: “Please.”

He captures your mouth in an ardent kiss, tugging at your shirt (which is, in fact, his) to undress you, his wandering hands roaming beneath it.

As his mouth meets your neck, something cold brushes against his lips, drawing his gaze down to what’s hanging from your neck.

His dog tags. The ones he had given you before leaving for that job, as his way of telling you I’m coming back without having to say it aloud. And you, as always, understood; had even promised to keep them safe, though he hadn’t expected you to actually wear them.

Now, with your shirt discarded, they lay against your bare skin, his name resting in the valley between your breasts.

“You like ‘em?” His fingers grip the chain and give it a gentle tug, drawing you closer so he can breathe over your lips, his breath mingling with yours. “Like knowing you’re mine? You get off on it?”

You nod in agreement. Of course, you do. Though emotionally constipated and not the most expressive, Logan is a lover who knows how to awaken desire—a good lover, indeed. A decent one.

Which is why he agrees to any idea that crosses your mind, like the one you just whispered in his ear.

He may be older than you, but he’s always been more on the traditional side. You, on the other hand, are continually searching for new ways to innovate.

The round globes of your ass jiggle over his face as he spreads you apart, entrenched by how your skin moves above him, your glistening hole clenching around nothing, as if your body itself is calling to him.

With his head propped against the headboard, he watches you take him deeper, your saliva dripping down the wiry hairs of his cock. The slick heat of your tongue traces over his slit, back and forth, driving him to the edge.

When he hears you gag, it stirs something inside him—a deep need to return the favor, to match your devotion.

At the end of the day, he’s a man on a mission, and right now, that mission is you.

Right there, with his nose and mouth buried in you, he wonders why he hadn't thought of this sooner. If he could choose a natural end like any other man, he'd wish for it to be by suffocation—your body his last breath.

Logan inhales deeply, like a man starved, working two of his fingers inside your throbbing center, his tongue flicking relentlessly over your clit, punching moan after moan out of you. Each thrust of his fingers, each stroke of his tongue, sends waves of pleasure coursing through you.

His beard, streaked with gray, leaves a trail of fire wherever your hips meet his face, pushing back against him. Every so often, you pull off his cock just to ramble, panting, about how good he's making you feel.

From where he lies, you’re a sight to behold, nothing short of divine. “Just what I needed, doll. You taste so fuckin’ sweet,” he blurts out, your frantic cries pouring into his ears as he sucks the swollen bud between his lips. “Can’t believe you let me do this to you. You love makin’ your old man happy, don’t you?”

He used to think he'd burn in hell for indulging in the desire to know you like this—raw, ungraceful.

His judgment must be fucked up, because now, all he sees in you is heaven incarnate. You must be the closest thing to it he’ll ever find.

“Shit, I…” you trail off, gasping as he replaces his fingers with his tongue, drinking from your arousal and tasting every bit of you. “I thought about you every day.”

“Bet you did, just like that night I called you. You know how I felt when you told me you were wearing my clothes?” His hand comes down with a firm slap on your right asscheek, drawing a whine from you as your movements falter. “Can smell you all over these sheets. Makes me wonder how many times you made yourself come while I was away.”

You slip the tip of his cock back in your mouth, your hands and lips working in sync. His nose brushes against the plush skin of your thighs before his teeth graze your flesh, biting down just enough to leave a sting. His fingers curl inside you, hitting that perfect spot again and again, and you moan around him, your throat vibrating against his length.

He makes you come like this, knuckles deep inside you while his thumb circles your clit. Overwhelmed by pleasure, you let go of his dick, and it hits Logan’s stomach with a wet pop. His strong arms tug you closer to his face, eyes falling closed as you ride the wave of your orgasm against his mouth, palms pressed flat on his chest.

For a brief moment, he can’t breathe, can’t feel anything but you, your scent, your taste filling his senses.

Later, he rolls you onto your back and climbs on top of you, uncertain of how much time he has spent lapping at your wetness. His hard length glides along your folds, and he lines himself up without pushing in, looking right into your eyes. 

“Remember what I told you that night over the phone?” he asks, his breath coming in quick bursts, and you nod, head lolling back as he pinches your lower lip between his fingers. “Repeat it.”

“Logan—”

“You say it, and I’ll make it happen.”

Perplexity clouds your features. “You said you’d fuck me slow and deep, just h-how I like it. Face to face, because—”. The words escape you, a sob tearing through your throat as he eases the first few inches of himself inside you, your walls instinctively making space to wrap around him.

He’s home.

“Go on. What else did I say?” he teases, relishing in it. He’s guilty as sin. “Or were you too lost in thought touchin’ yourself?”

“F-face to face,” you slur, nails digging into his scarred back, and he keeps plunging his length into your interior to the hilt. Your lips part slightly, craving the kiss that only he can give you. “You said you’d do it face to face so I could kiss you whenever I wanted.”

He hums, low in his throat, as he gives the first thrust of the night, taking great pleasure in your expression: open-mouthed, eyes scrunched, and a slight crease forming between your brows.

Smoothing his thumb over your forehead, he tsks, pausing his movements. “None of that, princess. Look at me, c’mon.”

You obey, forcing your eyes open, and in that instant, he swears he can feel every tremor coursing through you. “Logan,” you coo, your voice aching as you stretch your neck toward his mouth.

The way you say his name—seductively, charged with a fascination that riles him up—manages to ignite a fire only you can kindle. It’s all the invitation he needs.

“I know. Too much, huh?” His tone drips with condescension, teasing in a way that feels almost cruel. He can’t help it, though: it’s in very his nature. “Need to hear you say it. Need you to tell me how much you want this.”

Like everything else in your world, your patience begins to wither, hips instinctively bucking beneath him, seeking even the slightest bit of friction. But he still withholds the kiss you long for, dangling it just out of reach.

“Please,” you beg, voice breaking as you plead. “Fuck me, baby. Missed you so much while you were away. Please, please, please—”

Logan enjoys hearing you beg. He won’t pretend otherwise. There's a satisfaction in knowing he holds this power over you, that he's the only one who can unravel you this way, your body splayed open beneath him.

The thought of others who may have once been in his place, making you fall apart just like this, sets his blood on edge.

Jealousy, sharp and corrosive, crawls up his spine, and it spurs him on, guiding the tempo of his thrusts.

He wonders if he’s ever fucked you this fiercely before, with a passion that pulses from every part of him. You’re given no space for thought, no moment to catch your breath—just his unforgiving pace and the sounds spilling from your lips.

He has a way of breaking you down, turning you into a trembling, whimpering mess beneath him, and you surrender willingly, craving each second of it.

So fuckin’ tight. Can y’hear her? How badly she needs me?

Sex had never felt like this before. He’d grown accustomed to quick, meaningless fucks in poorly lit bars, fleeting encounters that left him questioning if this was all there was. If this wasn’t the best he’d ever know. 

For a while, he’d tried to solve that emptiness, searching in nameless lovers and hollow hearts for the very thing he feared most: love.

And yet, he wanted it, yearned it, guarding his desire like a secret he barely admitted to himself. Until one day, you stumbled into his life, and all the strength he thought he had wasn’t enough to push you away.

He presses deep into the back of your thighs, bringing your chests so close they're nearly brushing. Claiming your mouth in a maddening kiss, all teeth and tongue, leaving no space for softness. As he nibbles at your bottom lip, he feels you tighten around him, your cunt pulling him under, clouding his thoughts.

“Close?” he murmurs, hips snapping against you with an utterly obscene rhythm that drowns out the world, better than any song ever made. “Such a good girl. Gonna come, sweetheart? Let me see how gorgeous you look when you fall apart, making a mess just for me.”

The constant, steady drag of his cock doesn’t seem to get old for you. He’s leaving his mark within you, inside you, carving a space for himself. His tip keeps hitting all the right spots, prompting you to tilt your pelvis to meet him halfway, telling him there, yes, there. More, please.

His hand slides down, rubbing your clit with his fingers. Doesn’t need any extra help when doing so, your arousal providing all the slickness he needs. He feels like a runner on the final stretch, the finish line within reach, so close he can almost touch it, savoring the euphoria and bliss of crossing it.

The way you sing his name never loses its allure, despite all the times he’s heard it spill from your lips. Especially at this moment, with him buried deep inside you, every thrust a promise to make you feel good.

You shamelessly come while he keeps driving into you, vigorous and untamed—like a caged animal unleashed, tasting freedom for the very first time.

Ankles digging into his lower back, a trail of persistent kisses along his beard. You want him inside, that much he can tell.  It’s not like he ever finishes anywhere else, but the reminder doesn’t bother him. It only serves as a reassurance: that you still want this, want him. You haven’t changed your mind.

He sinks his teeth into your neck the instant he feels his orgasm tearing through him, hips stilling and sagging as a string of grunts abandons his being, dampening your skin even more.  He loves to fill you up, it consumes him entirely.

Such an intimate, visceral act, and then he gets to see his seed trickling down your thighs. He realizes that he doesn’t need much to be happy.

You keep kissing him, his neck, his face. It may seem absurd to say that every kiss feels like the first, yet it’s true.

Even after he’s traced all the contours of your mouth and committed every detail of your body to memory, he can’t help but feel that same thrill of excitement he experienced months ago when he dared to push beyond the boundaries he had set for himself.

Staring at each other, naked, all the love in the world seems to fill these four walls. The compassion and tenderness in your gaze remain unchanged. You’re a dream come true.

It can’t end like this. He can’t allow you to drift back into sleep without saying what needs to be said. Something has to happen, something only he can conjure.

“I think…” He hesitates. Starting with I think carries an air of uncertainty. “I don’t—”

“Logan,” you interrupt, your hand finding his. “I know.”

Yes, you do. You always seem to know everything, but that can’t be enough. He can’t lean on your unspoken understanding of his feelings.

“You still deserve to hear it.”

“It’s not necessary.”

“It is.”

More silence. The moon is the solitary spectator of his upcoming declaration. 

“You were right,” he begins, drawing your intertwined hands closer to his face, pressing a soft kiss on the back of yours. His voice drops to a murmur. It’s not just his body that feels completely exposed anymore; something deeper within him stands bare. “I’m in love with you.”

You scrutinize him as if he’s revealing the secret to eternal life. Again, you kiss his cheek, cupping it gently with your palm.

“It won’t get any better than this. There are no more layers to peel away, okay?” He offers explanations you never even asked for in the first place. “This is what I am.” Much to his dismay, you overlook his choice of words: what instead of who.

He glances away, his gaze landing on the dog tags resting against your skin. The same old guilt threatens to engulf him, as it does each time without fail, and that seems to be your cue to lower yourself to his eye level, eyebrows raised.

“I’m not with you because I’m waiting for you to change. I like you just as you are, Logan. And I want all of you, both the good and bad stuff.” A gentle smile breaks across your face as you stretch your arm to retrieve his glasses from the nightstand. Placing them on your nose, your eyes twinkle with contentment. “Do they look good on me?”

“You don’t need them yet.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t pull them off.”

“Come here,” he mutters, sighing when you nuzzle his chest, cradling your head between his hands. He ponders what to say, what to do next, but no clear idea sounds promising.

And so it gives you the chance to speak up: “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

I hope I don’t, he thinks to himself as he brushes your hair away from your face, fingers caressing your temples. I hope I never do.

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! <3

[whytheylosttheirminds]

Don't Call Me Kid - chapter 1

(Rafe Cameron x Reader, series, 3.9k words)

series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.

tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder

content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues

⇢ series masterlist

The drive down to Miami was idyllic. Windows rolled down, you and Carter sang along to the playlist you’d made for the trip and ate your favorite childhood snacks. Blue skies above you as Carter’s new Jeep flew down the coast, you actually started to feel excited for the week ahead.

Then, you pulled up to the Airbnb, and it all faded.

The second you saw all of Carter’s high school friends in the driveway, unpacking their cars and exchanging hugs, it all came rushing back. The way you felt like you never really fit in, how they’d tease you for being quiet, how the boys’ eyes would skip right over you in search of your sister.

Carter turned down the radio when she noticed the way you were biting your lip with trepidation.

“It’s gonna be fun,” she tried to assure you. “Promise.”

You put on your best fake smile, determined to make this a good week for her. After everything she’s done for you, if all she wanted in return was a fun week at the beach, you’d give her that. You pushed your anxiety down as best as you could and hopped out of the Jeep.

“Oh shit!” Topper called, standing at the open trunk of his Range Rover. “Is that who I think it is?”

He rushed over, sweeping Carter up and throwing her over his shoulder.

“Put me down, Top!” She yelped, not entirely convincing that she wanted him to.

He set her down and smiled wide at her, just as smitten as ever. She gave him a playful pat on the head, like a dog, and went to get the bags from her car. Topper’s eyes shifted over to you and his jaw nearly dropped to the floor.

“No way, Little Carter is that you?” He teased, using your least favorite nickname.

“What’s up, Topper?” You tried to sound unannoyed.

Before he could answer, still slightly gawking at you, another voice emerged from the front door of the house.

“Yo who is it, Top?” Kelce yelled down from the top of the front steps.

“Come see for yourself, jackass!” Topper shouted back.

Kelce hopped down from the top step and approached you in the driveway, throwing his arm around Topper’s shoulder.

“No fucking way,” he said, when it finally dawned on him who you were. He looked you up and down and added, “what do they put in the water at that fancy school of yours?”

“Smoothe, man,” Topper smirked at him.

Your cheeks burned, you rolled your eyes at them to try and seem unaffected. They had never talked to you like this before. The majority of your interactions with Topper and Kelce in high school consisted of them teasing you about Rafe and asking where your sister was. They never even came close to flirting with you, and now you couldn’t decide whether you liked it or not.

“Can you two stop drooling over my baby sister and come help me with these fucking bags?” Carter called to them from the back of her Jeep.

“Yes ma’am,” Kelce winked at you before going to help your sister carry in the hundreds of dollars worth of beer she’d made you stop to pick up on the way here.

“You assholes better pay us back,” she told them, passing Topper a couple of 12 packs.

“Okay, give me your sister’s number and I’ll Venmo her right now,” he responded with a smirk.

You actually laughed at that one, which caused his chest to puff out with pride. Boys had always been somewhat of a mystery to you, but these two were painfully easy. Their playfulness helped you relax a little, wondering if this week might not be so bad after all.

Once you were inside, you and Carter each chose your own rooms, all your recently opened trust funds allowing you to rent the biggest house in the neighborhood. After unpacking, you walked down to the beach with Topper, Kelce, a couple of Carter’s girlfriends, and a guy you’d never met.

Topper and Kelce introduced him as their friend from college, a frat brother. His name was Tom, he was on the taller side, brunette, super cute. The way his toned arms flexed in his sleeveless shirt was the first thing you saw, but his bright, dimpled smile is what really caught your attention.

When you told him your name, offering him your hand to shake, he held it for a few seconds longer than any of the other girls and Carter gave you a knowing look. You’d never wished so badly that you knew how to turn off your blush.

Once you got down to the water, you helped Carter set up the umbrella and volleyball net you’d brought. You played intramural volleyball for your college and had actually gotten really good at it, you were excited to play with Carter, who’d always wanted you to get into sports with her.

When everything was set-up, you started to take off the bathing suit cover you had on over your bikini, but quickly realized there was a problem.

“Shit, Car, did we even bring sunscreen?” You asked your sister.

“Fuuuuck,” Carter said with a careless giggle. “Guess we’ll just burn.”

“Um no, I’m not listening to you whine about your sunburn all week,” you scolded her. “Top, did you bring sunscreen?”

“I hate to say no to you, beautiful, but…no,” Topper answered.

“Great, so we have eight hundred Natty Lights but no sunscreen,” you huffed.

“Sounds like a perfect vacation to me,” Kelce joked, already cracking his first beer.

“I brought some sunscreen,” Tom offered helpfully.

“Ah, my hero!” you smiled at him playfully.

You could feel all eyes on you when you said it. None of them had ever seen you flirt so comfortably before, or really even heard you speak. This was the person you were at school, but they had never met her before. You cleared your throat, feeling uncomfortable.

“Could I borrow some?” You asked Tom, who appeared oblivious to the shift in atmosphere.

“Yeah, it’s up at the house, I’ll go grab it!” You watched him run up the beach, his toned back muscles flexing, Carter bumped her hip into yours.

“Five minutes and he’s already whipped for you,” she teased. “Told you this trip was a good idea.”

By the time Rafe finally pulled up to the house in his truck, all the rooms had been claimed except for the shitty basement, with its low ceiling and lone twin sized bed. After dropping his bags, scowling at the mildew smell in the small space, he filled one of the coolers he brought with some imported beers and white claws and headed toward the beach.

“Yo, Top!” He called from the back porch, beckoning Topper up from the beach to help him carry the heavy cooler.

“Jesus, what you got in here?”  Topper grunted, struggling to lift his side of the cooler.

“Nicer shit than anything you brought,” Rafe said. “I’m not drinking cheap gas station beers all week.”

“Fine by me man,” Topper added a second hand to the cooler to help him lift it.

As they carried the cooler down the beach, Rafe mocking Topper for his inability to lift his share of the weight, Rafe scanned the private section of the beach to take a manual headcount of his housemates for the week.

He saw everyone he expected, the same people that would gather at the island club every time there was a break from school, the party always finding its way back to Tannyhill. The same girls that hung around him and his friends in high school, Carter, who he had never gotten along with, Kelce, who he had seen just last week, and…someone he didn’t recognize.

The mystery girl was facing away from him, but he could still tell she was gorgeous. Her bathing suit wrap hugging her body, her shiny, bouncy hair flowing in the ocean breeze. She bent down to set up her beach chair and he nearly dropped the cooler. 

“Woah, man,” Topper laughed. “Now who’s got butterfingers?”

“Who is that?” Rafe asked sternly, ignoring Topper’s harassment. 

“Dude, are you serious?” Topper eyed him.

Before Rafe could ask what Topper meant, you turned around, looking up towards the house in his direction, shielding the sun from your eyes and smiling a big, beautiful smile.

This time, Rafe really did drop the cooler. It was you. He hadn’t seen you in four years, and nobody told him you were coming on this trip. Nobody told him you looked like that now, either.

Everything that happened between you was so long ago, but he assumed you still hated him. But now, you were looking right at him and smiling. His lips started to turn upward for a moment and he almost lifted his hand to wave at you, when someone bumped into his shoulder.

“Shit, my bad man,” Tom said, his eyes not even looking at Rafe, glued to you. He ran off and approached you, and Rafe realized with a punch to his gut, it was this random guy you were smiling at and not him.

Rafe and Topper dragged the cooler a bit farther down the beach, dropping it behind all the umbrellas. Rafe immediately grabbed one of his expensive IPAs and twisted it open, throwing back a sip bitterly as he watched Tom hand you something, you smiled and touched his arm gratefully.

Carter approached the boys and the cooler, following Rafe’s eyes to you. She twisted her lips, trying to hide her smile, everything about this day going exactly as she had planned.

“Hey, Rafe,” She smirked. “You good?”

Rafe looked at her, eyes narrow as he tried to catch her meaning. When he realized she had caught him staring, he cleared his throat and took another sip of his beer, trying to seem nonchalant. 

“Fine,” he mumbled.

Rafe reached in the cooler and grabbed a white claw, offering it to Carter. Things had always been chilly between them, though they’d still been cordial with each other. Aside from that big argument senior year which they never talked about. Now, it hung in the salty air so prevalently, your presence after all this time stirring up old tensions.

Carter accepted the drink with a thank you, cracking it open and looking back to you. Both Carter and Rafe’s eyes went wide when you took off your cover-up, revealing a barely-there bikini and the new body none of your high school friends had seen yet. 

Everyone on the private beach was staring at you, but Rafe was staring at you, his knuckles going white around his beer as he eyed you up and down. His heart pounded so loudly in his chest he was afraid Carter and Topper would be able to hear it. Then, when you handed Tom the sunscreen and asked him to rub it on your back, an unfamiliar feeling bubbled in Rafe’s stomach and crawled up to his chest. He glared at Topper.

“Who the fuck is that guy?” He barked.

Carter and Topper’s heads both snapped towards him, neither surprised to hear the usual edge in his voice, though while Topper looked at Rafe with concern, Carter’s face only portrayed pure amusement.

“Who, Tom?” Topper asked, watching as Rafe’s eyeline returned to you, starting to catch on to the source of Rafe’s irritability. “He’s a brother from Alpha Tau.”

“I thought this was supposed to be a high school reunion trip,” Rafe snapped at him.

“Wow, someone’s pressed,” Carter beamed at him, delighted in his discomfort.

“I’m fine, just didn’t know we could invite people, that’s all,” he insisted.

“Sure, Rafey, that’s all,” she goaded him.

Rafe and Carter gave each other a knowing look, Topper’s eyes flashing between them, utterly out of the loop.

“What did I miss?” He prodded.

“Nothing,” Carter assured him. “Let’s play chicken, you’re on my team, Topper.”

“Oh hell yes,” he dashed after her like an excited puppy.

Rafe ignored the interaction, eyes glued to you in the distance as you settled into your beach chair and pulled out a book, Tom leaving your side and heading toward the water to join the game that had started. Rafe smiled, of course you were reading while everyone else was partying. Maybe you hadn’t changed that much after all. 

The spine of the brand new book cracked as you opened it, you sighed happily, loving the sound. You rarely ever got to read just for fun, always so busy with schoolwork, and you were so excited to dig into the fluffy romance you’d bought off tiktok and turn your brain off.

But then, just as your eyes grazed over the first sentence, you heard a voice from behind you that made your sun-kissed skin go cold.

“Whatcha readin’?” Rafe asked, his tall frame casting a shadow over your sunbathing spot.

You had pretended not to see him when he arrived a few minutes ago, throwing your attention at Tom instead, who took it happily, no idea that he was just a distraction from the flips your stomach was doing at Rafe’s arrival. You actually thought for a minute you might be able to avoid him this whole trip, but of course, he was pouncing as soon as you were alone. He always preferred talking to you when no one was around, sharing hours of meaningful late night conversations together, yet ignoring you at parties and in the halls at school as if you barely knew each other.

You closed the book slowly and placed it in your lap, any clever words you had to say to him flew suddenly from your brain. Regret swept over you, it was foolish to think you could pretend to be unaffected by his presence. He’d said two words to you and you were already nervous, overthinking every movement you made.

When you didn’t answer him, Rafe took it upon himself to plop down in the beach chair next to you, leaning over to read the title of your book.

“Is it any good?” You still didn’t look at him, but you could hear the teasing smile in his voice.

“Wouldn’t know,” you looked down at your lap. “Just started it.”

“Well let me know what you think, might need to borrow it,” he kept his eyes on you, running over your body, making his own face go warm.

“Since when do you read?” You finally lifted your eyes to him.

Rafe’s jaw went slightly slack, all the swagger he’d brought on this trip with him suddenly disappearing. You were even prettier up close, your features more defined and striking than he remembered.

“People can change,” he finally mustered up, less bravado in his voice.

You gave yourself exactly three seconds to look at him, eyes sweeping quickly over his nose, lips, chin, anything but his eyes. His eyes were like a prison you’d once been held in, and you swore you’d never go back.

After your three seconds were up, you shifted your gaze to the ocean, hating that you wished you had three more to take him in. He was just as, if not more, gorgeous as you remembered. His features somehow sharp and soft at the same time. His lips pink and soft, skin a golden bronze even though the summer had just started. His hair was a little shorter now, but still long enough to stick up in the back in that messy way you liked.

The familiar red hue crept up your neck slowly, making its way to your cheekbones. You needed him to get up and leave you alone before you broke into an all out blush. You picked up your book and pretended to start reading again.

“You should go play with everyone else, looks like Kelce could use someone on his team,” you threw out, hoping he’d take the hint.

“What if I’d rather stay here and talk to you?” He asked, voice dropping just a hint.

You thought you could handle this, but you couldn’t. Was he seriously flirting with you right now? If you knew Rafe, the second you tried to flirt back, he’d grow uninterested and blow you off. With him, it was always like he convinced you to jump off a cliff with him, but then at the last second, he’d step back, watching apathetically as you fell all alone.

“I need to go unpack,” you said, standing from your chair and grabbing your book and beach bag, knowing full well your stuff was already neatly sorted in your room.

He looked up at you as you collected your stuff, and you hated the way you were sucking in your stomach. You spent four years working hard to love your body the way it was, and now, in front of him, all that self-consciousness came flooding back. 

You hurried away, catching Carter’s eye as you beelined for the house.

“Where are you going?” She said, slightly out of breath by the time she caught up to you.

“I can’t do this,” you explained, still walking fast.

“Wait,” she grabbed your arm, causing you to halt, hot sand burning your feet. “What happened?”

“He’s here,” you didn’t have to explain any further for her to understand.

“I know,” she said sympathetically. “But we knew he would be. We’re gonna ignore him, remember?”

“I don’t think I can, Car,” you sighed. “I think I should just go.” 

“No, please please please don’t go,” she begged. “I need you here. And you were having fun before, right? Tom’s cute! Just hang out with us and tell Rafe to go fuck himself.”

“That sounds more like something you’d say than me,” you smiled at her.

“Okay, fine,” she agreed. “I’ll tell him to fuck himself and to leave you alone.”

“No, don’t, I don’t want to cause any drama,” you requested.

“Well I think storming out twenty minutes after we got here would be pretty dramatic,” she argued.

Your lips in a tight line, you gave her an annoyed look, but she did kind of have a point. Everyone would ask why you left, and how would Carter explain it to them? Plus, you didn’t want to give Rafe the satisfaction of knowing he affected you this much.

“We’re about to play volleyball,” Carter said. “Come show them what a beast you are now! And then after you kick everyone’s ass, if you’re still miserable, you can leave and I’ll tell everyone you got sick.”

You squinted back at the group on the beach, considering her offer. Topper and Kelce were wrestling in the sand, somehow both losing. You smiled affectionately at their antics, you were really enjoying hanging out with them before Rafe got here.

“Okay, fine,” you agreed. “One game.”

It took half of one volley for you to get comfortable, head fully in the game. You were tempted to put your cover-up back on before playing, well aware of Rafe’s eyes on you through the net, but you decided not to, determined to love yourself the same way you had grown to when you thought you’d never see him again.

Tom was on Rafe’s team, also eyeing you through the net, but with a much more innocent, friendly expression.

“You’re pretty good!” He said when you’d spiked a ball into the sand right next to him.

“Thank you,” you smiled sweetly. “I play at school.”

“Hey man, stop flirting with our opponent and focus,” Rafe snapped at him from the serving line.

Tom just raised his eyebrows at you in amusement and mouthed “I’m in trouble.” You giggled and Rafe seethed, slamming the ball so hard on his next serve that his hand was red. 

After a few more volleys, you had rotated until you and Rafe were face to face across the net again. As you waited for one of your sister’s friends, Sabrina, to make her third attempt at serving, Rafe eyed you up and down.

“You look good,” he said quietly, so only you could hear.

It lit a fire in you, but not the one he was hoping for. You locked-in, bent low in a competitive stance, ready for the setter to tee you up. When Sabrina finally made her serve, you went all out, diving in the sand and running all over the court to keep the ball in play. Rafe’s athletic instincts took over, and he met every one of your attempts to score with a firm block. Eventually, your lungs burning with your heavy breathing, Rafe spiked the ball and you slipped in the sand, letting it get past you and land next to your feet with a thud.

You looked up at Rafe, who was high fiving his teammates and looking down at you with a smirk. He ducked under the net and reached out a hand to help you up.

“Sorry, kid,” he grinned as he lifted you to your feet. “I’m just that good.”

Kid. It all came back as you stared at him. The hours spent in your car, waiting for him dutifully. All the late night texts that meant everything to you and nothing to him. The cheek kisses and side hugs that fueled your fantasies. His hands around Cassie’s waist as he kissed her in broad daylight, though he’d only talk to you behind closed doors. 

Your cheeks turned red as they so often did, but this time, it wasn’t from embarrassment, it was from anger. He wouldn’t make you feel small anymore, you wouldn’t let him.

You turned to your team to fire them up, “let’s go, fucking lock in guys! You got me Top?”

Topper nodded with excitement, loving your new energy, as he got ready for his turn to serve.

“Fuck yeah, I got you, captain,” he saluted you.

Topper served. Rafe tried to dominate again but you were two seconds ahead of him on every play. Now it was you that had him diving around in the sand like an idiot. The smug smile wiped from his face, his jaw now clenched in frustration as he grunted with effort every time he hit the ball.

You were on fire, un-fucking-stoppable. After a few more volleys, your team was winning, one point from game.

You wiped the back of your hand across your forehead and down your neck, flicking off the sweat that had pooled. You felt two sets of eyes on you, Tom’s and Rafe’s, but you didn’t care, laser focused on your next play. When you lifted off the ground, body stretching to reach for the ball, you threw every frustration into the hit, hand colliding with the ball as hard as it could. Rafe dove, but he couldn’t get it, he crashed down hard, sand flying in his face as he whiffed, and you won the game.

Your side of the net broke into cheers, high fiving and whooping obnoxiously. Tom approached the net to offer his sportsmanlike congratulations, but you didn’t notice him, already making your way towards Rafe, who still sat defeated on the ground, eyes burning from the sand.

He smiled as you approached, reaching out his hand, thinking you were gonna help him up. But you just stepped around him, bending down, lowering your voice so only he could hear as you said,

“Sorry, kid, but I’m better.”

You left him sitting there, hand reaching for nobody like an idiot, dumbstruck and down bad as you sauntered up the beach.

(chapter 2)

a/n: I know I literally just posted the prologue but I didn't want to wait to get into the actual story. I'd love to hear what you think and where you want to see the story go! xoxo

[milksnake-tea]

━━ fear not the road untaken .

Sunday hadn't spent long with the Stellaron Hunters before boarding the Express, but the memories he'd made with them were priceless. One quiet day in the Express's cabin, while reflecting on his experiences with the Hunters, you appear to visit him.

astral express!sunday x gn!stellaronhunter!reader

contains: sunday used to be a stellaron hunter, teasing, FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF THIS IS THE CUTEST THING IVE WRITTEN SO FAR, SUNDAY IS DOWN BADDDD AS HE DESERVES TO BE BITES FIST I MISSED THIS SO BADDDDD, not established relationship sunday just has a massive crush on you

word count: 2.06k

a/n: happy drip marketing yall. you all get a sunday fluff piece. as a treat. also yes i am completely and totally sane. (THIS IS THE MOST SELF INDULGENT FIC IVE EVER WRITTEN I AM SO SORRY GUYS)

taglist: @sh0jun , @themoderatelyawesomeninja , @xphantasmagoriax , @rainswept , @lucensei , @akutasoda , @naraven , @scribs-dibs , @apathicace , @flurrina , @tragedy-of-commons , @cakechase , @kiiyoooo

“Sunday, we’re going out to Belobog for a bit. Wanna come with?”

Heeled boots still in the midst of a step. Feather-like hair shifts and tousles as he turns his head. At the invitation, gold melts, sapphires glitter, and a gentle smile warms his lips.

March is a blessing, he thinks. She is bubbly, kind, and always manages to light up whatever room she steps into - in that regard, she is not too unlike his beloved sister. Although her ability to plan ahead leaves much room for improvement, he cannot deny that it was her presence that made his transition into a Nameless much easier than it would’ve been.

Although, truthfully, he’d expected more resistance from her - out of everyone, she seemed to be the most traumatized by the Charmony Festival Disaster, and she also had more of a distaste for Stellaron Hunters than the others. But surprisingly, she’d come around to him, and welcomed him into the Express with open arms - and a lot of food. He swears, every time she’s come back from a trip, it’s another sweet or drink shoved into his arms - not that he’s complaining, though.

“Thank you for the invitation,” he begins, then rests a hand over his chest as a reflex. “But I’m afraid I’ll have to refuse. The last expedition has left me rather exhausted - and as you know, I don’t fare well in cold weather.”

Dan Heng nods in understanding. He’s never been a man of many words, and for that Sunday appreciates him. He rather likes straight-forward people, who aren’t afraid to say their mind - perhaps that’s why he’s grown to adore both the Express and the Hunters so much.

“Is there anything you want us to bring back?” pipes up the Trailblazer, dog-like eyes shining as they lean over March. “Like, sweets or whatever?”

Sunday bites back a chuckle. Somehow, word had gotten around that Sunday had quite the sweet tooth. He doesn’t know who started it or how they found out (he has his suspicions on March), but ever since the trio has been dragging him around to various planets and encouraging him to try the local desserts.

He wonders if he’s gotten cavities yet. He hopes not.

Maybe he should check again, at a later time.

“That Rye Bread Iceberg you brought last time was rather enjoyable. I’d like to try it again.”

March and the Trailblazer brighten at his words. “Okay, on it!”

Dan Heng only hums his acknowledgement before turning to leave the parlor car. “Let’s go,” he advises the others. “You know Seele doesn’t like to wait.”

Sunday has never personally met this Seele (the Trailblazer describes her as a crass but kind-hearted warrior), but her fury is enough to whip both March and the Trailblazer into shape. It isn’t long before the trio is waving him goodbye as they descend into the frozen planet, and he also bids them farewell.

And then it is just him, and the conductor.

A small sigh leaves him as he sits down on one of the many couches. He wasn’t lying when he said he was exhausted. Fighting - or any physical activity, for that matter - isn’t exactly his strong suit. Even during his time with the Hunters, he’d stayed behind the front lines, acting as a pseudo Kafka with his carefully crafted words and tuning abilities.

That’s one of the few things about the Hunters that he prefers over the Express - they didn’t force him to hike through deserts and jungles and mountains and Xipe knows what else. All they did was throw him off a skyscraper in the name of the script (he’s pretty sure Elio just wanted to see if he’d actually fly or not).

Sunday blinks, realizing just what had just passed through his mind. Then he sighs with a smile, leaning back into the red plush of the couches.

Only a few months since his fall, and he’s already beginning to think as weirdly as the rest of them.

“Sunday, are you alright?”

Sunday glances down to see the conductor waddling by his feet.

Pom Pom is… strange, no doubt - for whatever reason, Dan Heng fears them and has advised Sunday to not anger them at all costs. Their past is shrouded in mystery, but Sunday finds himself drawn to the conductor. Perhaps living most of his life in a fever dream like Penacony has warped his perception of what is normal and what is not.

“I’m fine, thank you.” He shifts on the couch to make room, but the conductor shakes their head.

“Are you sure? Pom Pom saw you laughing to yourself,” they fret, tapping their nubby hands together anxiously. “Have you been sleeping enough?”

Sunday crosses one leg over the other, and rests his hands over his knee. “If you’re concerned about my transition from Penacony to reality, be at ease. The Hunters have practically beat a proper sleep schedule into me.”

Pom Pom yelps in shock. “B-Beat?! They beat you?”

“Not literally,” Sunday hastes, instinctively reaching out a hand to calm the conductor. “It was more akin to… ominously threatening checkups. Although, there was this one time-”

He sees the look on Pom Pom’s face, and decides to stop it there. He fears they might break out sobbing if he continues.

“Nevertheless, rest assured that I am sleeping at an appropriate time,” he finishes reassuringly. His practiced smile pays off as the conductor gradually calms down, albeit worry about the Hunters’ methods still lingers.

“Alright, if you say so, Sunday.” They look around uneasily. “Do you want anything to drink?”

Sunday waves his hands hastily. “No, I am alright, thank you-”

“He’ll have some tea.”

Pom Pom jumps with a shriek and Sunday’s wings puff up. A familiar laugh ghosts his ear, and immediately Sunday’s face brightens.

“What- What are you doing here?!” Pom Pom quickly hides behind one of Sunday’s slender legs, hugging it like a lifeline. Sunday places a hand on their head to calm them as he turns to the hologram with a warm smile.

“At ease, conductor, they’re a friend.”

Your holographic form glitches in and out of reality. There’s a thin blue filter over your appearance, but other than that, everything is the same as he remembers.

“Hey, angel,” you coo, leaning your elbow on his shoulder as you sit besides him. Its weight is not the same as it would be in reality, but the presence is enough - a small, barely noticeable tingle that has his heart fluttering and his wings following in suit. “How’s life as Nameless? Do you miss us yet?”

Sunday laughs gently. “It has only been two weeks since I left the Hunters. I’m afraid I haven’t had the time to miss you all.”

You pout playfully, sticking out your tongue.Even though parts of you chip away and reappear, and your form isn’t stable, Sunday can’t help but be as captivated by you as he was when he was still among the Hunters’ ranks. Where the projection fails, his tinted memory fills in.

“Silver Wolf misses you, although I doubt she’d actually say it,” you say, taking a lock of his hair and twirling it around your finger. “Has she visited you yet?”

Sunday stutters a bit before weakly batting your finger away with his wing. “No, I’m afraid she hasn’t.”

“Hm.” You smile at his attempt to brush you off. Letting go of his hair, you instead opt to tug lightly at his cheek, earning a squeak from the Halovian. “That’s weird. Maybe she was too shy to speak up.”

“I-” Sunday rubs his cheek when you finally let go. Embarrassingly, his wings jump to shield his face, an unfortunate reflex he’d yet to curb. “I suppose she was…”

He hears you hum, and he lifts a wing to peek at you. His cheeks feel hot - no, that’s an understatement, the entirety of his body feels as if he’s in a fireplace.

“Give her my regards,” he finally breathes out, thanking the Aeons for his training in keeping his composure. Sure, it ultimately fails whenever he looks at you, but at least he’s able to fix himself quickly enough… or at least, he hopes that’s what it looks like.

“You didn’t answer my question though.” Propping your elbow on his shoulder again, you rest your cheek in your palm. “How’s the Nameless life treating you?”

“It’s chaotic,” Sunday admits with a fond sigh. He relaxes into the couch once more, feeling himself sink into the plush. Briefly, he’s tempted to lean his head on your shoulder, but given that you’re a holograph, he holds himself back. “But it’s fun. The Nameless have been kind, and the planets I’ve visited… It’s nice, to see the universe as someone other than a wanted criminal.”

“Wow. Thanks.”

Sunday would apologize, but considering that it’s you he’s talking to, he doesn’t feel the need to. After all, you’ve said worse to him, and him to you.

“You know what I mean,” he chuckles. “To be honest, though, the Express and the Hunters aren’t so different.”

He hears Pom Pom squawk indignantly, and again he ruffles their fur to calm them. Turning ever so slightly to your hologram, he gazes at you with adoration and fondness swelling his heart.

“To the both of you, I am forever grateful. If it weren’t for your kindness, I’d be rotting away in an alley somewhere. I wouldn’t be where I am today.”

All distaste for the Hunters fades from Pom Pom as they giggle bashfully. “Aw, Sunday… You don’t have to thank us. We were just doing what the Nameless do.”

You nod in agreement, reaching through his wing and poking his cheek again. “Conductor’s right. No need for thanks, birdie.”

“Still-” Sunday makes a sound like a startled bird as you poke his cheek harder, squishing it against the rest of his face. Underneath his coat, his primary wings strain with the urge to flutter and twitch, while his secondary wings are held back by sheer willpower. The only sign that they want to flap so badly is with the tiniest of tremors.

“None of that,” you chide him gently, tapping him lightly on the plush of his lips. “We’re just glad you’re happy - right, bunny?”

“Who’re you calling bunny?!” Pom Pom protests, steam puffing out of their head while steam threatens to escape Sunday’s face for completely different reasons.

Before you can reply, however, your form begins to glitch out, flickering in and out of reality at a higher frequency. With an annoyed click of your tongue, you stand up.

“Looks like Silver Wolf isn’t happy,” you comment, brushing off imaginary dust from your clothes. Taking one step so that you’re fully in front of Sunday, you lean in so that your projected nose barely brushes against his. “I have to get going now. You have my number, so text me if you need anything, okay? Or if you want to catch me up with your travels, you can always call me.”

Sunday’s voice feels lodged in his throat. With a subtle gulp, his Adam’s Apple bobbing ever so slightly, he manages to speak with an even voice.

“Okay,” he whispers, his voice almost a whimper. He wants to explode.

You smile fondly, and duck in to peck at the corner of his lips. The buzzing of your holograph morphs into electrifying lightning, surging into his veins, puffing up his feathers and making all of his hairs stand up and sending his already tapping heart into a frenzy. His body freezes into a statue, and all coherent thoughts melt away into a haze that is both ecstatic and shocked.

By the time you pull away, his wings are flapping erratically and his entire body is dyed in a rosey red. His mouth opens and closes like a fish, but all words die on his tongue and he is left blabbering like a fool.

You laugh again, eyes crinkling so beautifully he swears he’s ascended.

“If that’s how you react, I wonder how cute you’ll be when it’s the real deal.”

And then you’re gone, vanishing like a sweet dream in a flurry of pixels, leaving Sunday there to dazedly touch his lips, and then where you’d kissed him.

And then he smiles, giddily, and his halo practically glows as soft, love-stricken giggles begin to leave him.

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

[rin-may-1103]

Just a Bite.

Master Post | Next

Danny stared out at the busy street from behind his dumpster.

or well, not his dumpster, but it might as well be his considering how many nights he's spent sitting behind it like some rabid raccoon.

Two months ago, he would have been sleeping in his own bed. His glow-in-the-dark stars vaguely lighting up his room in soft luminescent colors. The sound of Jazz snoring in her sleep just a room over, his parents still milling around in the basement.

he would have just finished fighting the box ghost and collapsed onto his bed, the sound of his home lulling him to sleep.

Oh, how things can change in a blink of an eye.

No, instead of sleeping on his bed with his cartoon ghost sheets and NASA poster covered room, he's out here in some random dirty city, sleeping behind dumpsters.

dirty, grimy, rusty dumpsters.

"did you hear?" some lady dressed in a light blue summer dress asked, turning to look at her friend as they started to walk past. "Mr. Wayne donated another lump sum to that charity." she huffed, shaking her head like she had just said the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard.

her friend stopped in the middle of the alley opening, her graying hair splaying in an ark as she twisted to face the other women. "my word! again? what the hell is that man thinking?"

the woman huffed, then smirked in amusement. "it's like he's shouting for the world to hear how desperate he is for attention. he thinks if he donates enough money to those scoudrails they'll love him or something. With how he's acting lately, it's like he wants all the street rats to barge into his home asking for money, food, and clothes."

her friend clicked her tongue in disgust, "I'd believe it. he has so many kids now, it's like he's running an orphanage. someone, anyone really, with black hair and some tragic story could walk right in and not even be noticed. they'd blend right in with the others."

"I heard it's genetic, his father was the same way before he met Martha. Bruce's blood son, Damian I believe, acts just like his father. the boy's been spotted taking stray cats and dogs inside. It wouldn't surprise me if the paper posted about him convincing his father for another sibling at some point."

the women then turned and started to walk away, their conversation slowly bleeding into the surrounding city ruckus.

Danny leaned back, resting his head against the crumbling brick behind him.

walk right in and not be noticed? wouldn't that be grand. He had heard of Mr. wayne and his gaggle of black-haired children. What were their names again? he could have sworn Sam told him before, in one of her rants about rich society.

Richard Grayson was the first, Danny remembered because Tucker had been making none stop dick jokes for a few hours. Danny didn't understand why the man would willingly go by Dick, but then again, who was he to question someone's name when he fights ghosts like Skulker and Technis on a daily basis?

Next was... Jason? Sam had mentioned there was a whole conspiracy theory of how his death was a cover-up. how all the unsolved crime community swore it was Bruce who killed the kid, that or the kid had some terminal illness that Bruce didn't want the media to know about.

thennnnnn-

Danny glanced around, trying to dig through his memories of Sam's rant. Dick: the orphaned circus act taken in the night his parents died. he's romanie? maybe, Danny wasn't too sure on that one. Jason: taken off the streets, one of his parents was out of the picture and the other one died of a drug overdose.

and then there was..... Tim! Right, Tim, the one who was Mr. Wayne's neighbor before his mother died and his dad went into a coma, then died later on. right, right. he was the known tech genius, the one who took over the company while Mr. Wayne stepped back for a while.

there were others? like, four others? Damian, the lady said he was the blood son sooo, that would imply he was the only bio kid.

who else was there? hmmmm.

well, either way, Danny's tired brain agreed with the women. someone, anyone, who looked vaguely like the other kids could walk right into the house and no one would notice.

it was a bad idea. a terrible one really. but. Danny was hungry.

he's been sleeping behind dumpsters for a few weeks now, he hadn't had anything good to eat in forever, and he was tired. (not as exhausted as he was back home, but still tired. who would have guessed he'd sleep more while homeless?)

he wasn't going to steal from people, his core wouldn't allow him to. and well, he's pretty sure Dan would have stolen already, so there was no way Danny was going to. not unless his life was at risk, and well? it wasn't right now, so no stealing.

but this? walking right into a house and blatantly taking food? right in front of them?

it wouldn't be stealing if he just flat-out didn't try to hide it. they'd be able to stop him and send him away. heck, he doubted he'd even make it past the front gate before they turned him away.

...

was he really going to do this?

...

yes, yes he was.

standing up, Danny started making his way out of the alleyway and over to the tall building with Wayne's name on it. It was a good place to start, maybe he could even find one of the kids and walk with them. or, even better, he could find Mr. Wayne and walk with him. he liked that better than following some kid around.

suddenly, a car honked right next to him, the window rolling down to reveal a tired and disheveled man behind the wheel. glancing up, Danny made eye contact with the taxi driver.

the man yawned and gestured for him to get in, already speaking before Danny could decline. "Mr. Wayne! Your father," yawn, "Father already paid for me to take you home. just hop in."

Danny blinked then glanced around, looking to see if the Wayne the man was talking about was around. nope. turning back, Danny spotted a green sticky note on the back seat.

well, alright then. guess he was getting into the taxi and doing this after all. Clockwork obviously approved if he messed with the timing of things.

Next

[sturnsdarling]

'Stay the fuck away from her'

{based on this ask I left in @sturnioz inbox} fratboy!chris leaves shy!reader alone at a party for the first time and it goes south, quickly.

vibe check: fighting, violence etc, pressure to do drugs, fratboy!chris being a guard dog, fratboy!matt being a lil bruiser (i love him) a TINY bit of fluff bc I cant help myself and I'm a sucker for an asshole (fb!chris) with a soft spot (s!reader)

1.6k words

A/N: based on cas' fratboy!chris au. FUCK I love this. I had this idea after cas' lil blurb about jealous!fbchris and she told me to write it so mother gets what mother wants. another day another slay y'all lets fucking go. PART TWO HERE

love and cigs, merc

The frat house was nearly vibrating with the movement of hundreds of people, all moving, dancing, fucking and taking drugs in every millimetre of the house.

Chris and Matt were off doing their rounds with the freshers, Chris handing out his new stuff to all the sorority girls that pushed themselves against him before palming them off to Matt, who was just as uninterested in them but of course, made the moves to make the sale.

Tonight was a big night, it being the first party back after Christmas break so, the boys actually left you by yourself for the first time ever to make their rounds. Of course, Chris had instructed Nate to watch over you, but he was so faded that he could barely look after himself.

You were sat on a smelly couch in a back room, pressed in between two rival frat brothers to Chris' frat, both of them fawning over you as you sat there uncomfortably, shifting in your skin at the sensation of them peppering encouraging touches over you.

"come on, baby, one lil pill wont hurt you" one said, holding a small white pill in front of your face, your eyes nearly crossing as you stared at it.

"yeah, it'll be fun, and don't worry, we'll look after you" the other said, menacingly smirking at his frat brother

you shook your head, "I'm alright, I don't do drugs like that" you said, trying to crane your head back from them.

"theres a first time for everything, baby" one of the boys said, pressing his thumb into your chin, attempting to open your mouth as his friend moved the pill closer to your lips.

Nate was sat on the other side of the room, two girls draped over his lap as he sucked on one of their necks, palming the other ones ass.

"oh fuck" he said as he looked over to you, pressed between two frat boys as they waved a pill in front of your face.

He pushed the girls off him and they whined in a huff. He lifted his lips and pulled his phone from his pocket, opening it and calling Chris.

"Chris, dude, theres some guys here n'there all over your girl, touchin' her n'shit, one of them has a pill and kid is basically forcing it in her mouth" he said down the phone.

Chris didn't reply, only hung up the phone with a tsk sound and summoned Matt to follow him.

Within seconds, Chris was in the room, searching around the sea of bodies for you. He met Nates eyes first, who was once again sandwiched between two blondes. Nate pointed over to the other side of the room to you. The sight made Chris' blood boil, a villainous smile etched across his face, shaking his head and pressing his tongue to the side of his mouth as the thought of what he was gonna do to that kid raced through his mind. You were desperately trying to free yourself from the trap the boys had laid for you, squirming as they touched you and edged a pill closer and closer to your lips.

Chris stormed over, taking a long drag of his joint before tossing it to the floor. Just as quick as he arrived at the sofa, his hands were wrapped around one of the boys shirts, pulling him off the sofa and throwing him on the floor. Everyone gasped, moving out the way and gawking at the sight of Chris coming to stand over him.

"dude what th-" the guys questioning was cut off by Chris coming down on him and clocking him round the jaw with a swift punch.

"Chris!" You shouted, jumping off the sofa and grabbing his shoulders.

He shoved you off him and turned back to the kid underneath him, swinging down once more and cracking his jaw off his knuckles.

"y'think you're hard 'cuz you pressure girls into taking your shit pills? huh, kid? y'think you're a fuckin' gangsta?" Chris screamed as he laid into him.

The guy was borderline unconscious as you screamed Chris' name over and over again. Matt came up behind you, grabbing you by the shoulders, "go stand with Nate" Matt said, pushing you in Nates direction.

You nearly fell forward as you stumbled over to Nate, unable to tear your eyes of Chris as he continued to hit the boy beneath him, never letting up despite the boys pleads.

"yo, get the fuck off him" His frat brother shouted, coming to grab Chris by the shoulders. His movements quickly cut off by Matt, pulling him backwards and shoving him back to the sofa.

"watch ya hands, tough guy" Matt chuckled, grabbing the guy by the scruff of his shirt and nutting him, cracking his nose off his forehead. The guy recoiled, blood pouring from his nose instantly as his hands flew to his face.

Matt pushed him back as he stumbled, meeting him on the floor with a brutal clock across his jaw.

Chris got up off the guy and pulled him up with him, holding his bloodied and swollen face inches from his, "think you're a fuckin' big dog, yeah?" He turned and threw the nearly limp guy on the sofa.

The boy shook his head frantically, holding his hands up as Chris stood over him. "no, no, I don't, I don't, I didn't know she was your girl dude, m'sorry" He stuttered.

"well, now you do, so stay the fuck away from her, yeah?" he spat, moving as if he was going to hit him again.

The boy flinched and whimpered, running away, leaving his frat brother to fend for himself as Matt continued to pummel into him. He was relentless, near enough laughing as the boy lost consciousness underneath him.

"you wanna force girls into doing shit? you wanna be a tough guy n'drug girls jus' so they'll fuck you?" Matt said, pulling the guy up off the ground by his shirt, "hows it feel bein' a fuckin' loser, huh? tell me kid, hows it feel?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" the guy cried and Matt just laughed in his face.

Chris panted as he watched the guy he near enough battered run away. He turned round to Matt, placing a hand on his shoulder and tapping him.

"s'enough, Matt, y'gonna kill him" he said, pulling Matt off the bloodied and battered boy on the floor.

Chris eyes immediately searched for you, finding you tucked into Nate, scared shitless of what you had just witnessed. He walked over to you, everyone in the room still staring at him as he did.

When he reached you, he grabbed you by the back of the neck and pulled you round to face him, taking your face into his bloodied hands.

"did they give you anything? huh? did they do anything t'you?" His eyes searched your face for any signs of drugs or bruises.

"no" you shook your head, brows furrowed as tears welled in your eyes.

Chris sighed and pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. It was weird, Chris never hugged you like this, but as if on instinct you sunk into him, wrapping your hands around his waist.

"m'so sorry I left you alone, y'not leaving my side ever again, okay?" he muttered into your hair.

You nodded into his chest, whimpering slightly at the sensation of Chris breaking the hug.

"and you-" Chris spat, pushing Nate by the shoulders, "y'were s'possed to look after, her not let sketty fuckin' sorority girls distract you, fuckin' idiot" Chris said, insulting the girls as if they weren't right there.

"chill man, it all turned out peachy" Nate chuckled, stepping backwards with his hands up in surrender.

"get the fuck out my face, dude, can't even look at you" Chris spat, turning back to face you, taking your face in his hand once more.

"y'sure you're okay, kid?" he asked, soft eyes baring into yours.

you nodded, leaning into his gentle touch, the smell of iron lingering on his hand as it caressed your face.

"you didn't need to go that hard, Chris, you could have gotten hurt" you said, bringing a soft hand up to wrap around his wrist.

Chris chuckled, soothing a thumb over your face and raising his brows. "does it look like that kid could'a hurt me?" he asked, a prideful grin spread across his face.

You returned his smile and shook your head, gripping his wrist tighter.

"besides, you're important t'me, or whatever, so, I wasn't gonna let that fuckin' loser be all over you like that"

"I'm important to you?" you cheesed

"yeah, whatever, kid, try not to pull a muscle from cheesin' so hard" he rolled his eyes with a smirk.

"thankyou, for protecting me, Chris" you said, tugging at his wrist slightly.

"always" he said simply, before pulling you into a soft and quick kiss, his mouth slotting perfectly over yours, the taste of weed and shit beer lingering on his breath.

You chased the taste, whimpering slightly as he pulled away and dropped his hand from your face. You were smiling from ear to ear as he shifted his weight between his feet.

"wipe that smile off ya face, kid, s'not happenin' again" Chris said, referring to the kiss as he wiped a wet spot off your lip with his thumb.

taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles-0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10

[alloftheimaginesblog]

following in our footsteps {benedict bridgerton}

plot: as the wife of benedict bridgerton, you're always fixing his clothes and readjusting his collar and as your husband, he's always smoothing your dress down when you get out of the carriage... you don't realise but these traits get passed onto your children.

requested by anon

"Remember," you said as you took Benedict's hand as he helped you out of the carriage, "it's Colin's birthday, not yours, so please... let him enjoy his day without you and Anthony winding him up."

Benedict smiled at you widely, "Me? Annoy Colin? Well, I never." You rolled your eyes. Your husband, being the wonderfully kind man he was, then proceeded to circle you, smoothing your dress down if it had hitched up or gotten a little crumpled. Once finished, he stood in front of you and you straightened his lapel and his collar.

This had been a ritual for the two of you since your courting days. It started when Benedict had came to you with a bunch of flowers when he was calling on you one morning and you brushed off some petals from his shoulder and then in that same morning, he had wiped the tiniest speck of jam from your dress. Since then, the two of you had a routine in place of helping the other sort themselves out.

"Beautiful," Benedict smiled before placing a soft kiss on your knuckles where your wedding ring sat, "Right," he straightened and clapped, "come along children!"

One by one, your four children clamber out of the carriage. Charles comes first, holding his hand to help his sister Alexandra, then waits for William and lastly, the three help Violet as she was the youngest and also the clumsiest.

As the children are climbing out, you and Benedict find yourself in conversation about something else entirely and it is only when you hear the words, "Oh, honestly, Violet! You always seem to get yourself into such a muddle!" that you turn your attention to your children.

Your face stretches into a wide smile, "Ben, look."

William and Charles stood facing each other, straightening their collars, "Is that good?" They each nod before they look to Alexandra. Charles smooths down an unruly wisp of hair, tucking it behind her ear, while William smooths down the ruffles on her shoulder. Lastly, they all help their youngest sister, Violet. Charles wipes crumbs from her cheeks, Alexandra readjusts the hairband in her hair and William brushes her dress so it sits nicely.

They turn back to their parents who are... crying?

"Mama," Charles frowns, "are you well?"

You sniff, wiping your eyes with Benedict's handkerchief he handed you, "All is well, my love," you smiled, "It is just so nice to see you all looking out for each other."

"You fight like cat and dog but like your mother said, it is spectacular watching you look out for each other," Benedict smiles, clapping Charles on the shoulder.

The children don't understand the big deal, they glance at one another before Charles shrugs, "It is what we see you and Mama do each and every day. You make sure that you are both presentable and attractive, it is nice to look out for each other, is it not?"

You nod quickly, giving each of your children a kiss on the forehead, "Mama," William groans, "now we all have lipstick on our foreheads!" You laugh and hand Charles Benedict's handkerchief and one by one, they each wipe the lipstick off of each other's foreheads.

"Oh, we did good, did we not?" You ask quietly, melting into your husband's embrace.

"We certainly did." He presses a kiss to your forehead, "We really did."

[yourfavoritewitchbitch]

Desire, I'm Hungry

Summary: You and Steve happen upon a strange flower and suddenly find yourselves separated from your friends in the Upside Down. An unrelenting desire overtakes the both of you, taking your friendship past the point of no return.

CW: Porn with plot. Sex pollen (so this could be considered forced intimacy). Underlying idiots in love. Mutual pining. AFAB Reader. Steve's canon S4 injuries. Steve's a little mean. Fluff ending. Biting. Blood. Fingering. Makeshift gag. Unprotected P in V. Reader has a vagina. Small breeding kink (it is Steve, after all). Creampie.

This one would not leave my brain until I got it out! Enjoy!

WC: 10.4K

In all the years you had come to know Steve Harrington it had its ups and downs. Being his best friend came with firsthand experience with all things Upside Down that ultimately led you into some pretty precarious situations.

Demogorgans, demo-dogs, Russians and a monster composed solely of melted people were the least of your worries because HE had always been there.

Until this very moment you saw him as untouchable. An invincible protector, the one person who came when you needed to be saved, not the person who needed saving.

He'd reached for your hand in desperation as he disappeared under Lover's Lake. The tips of his fingers slipped through yours, leaving you grasping and screaming out in panic and shock.

“Steve! No, no, no, no!” You scrambled next to Robin, pulling off your jacket about to jump in when she suddenly caught your wrist.

“Hey Y/N! No! You can't just jump in there!” She yelled. Before you could get a word of protest out, you heard Eddie yell behind you.

“Woah, Wheeler you're not going in there, are you?”

“Just wait here.” She replied, briefly cutting her eyes to you before the sound of splashing water drew your attention.

“Holy shit,” Robin breathed out, clutching a hand over her mouth.

“Robin, we can't stay here. Not with both of them down there! Let's go!” Reaching out to her, as you turned back to look at the metalhead. “Eddie?”

“What? No. You can't go. What the fuck man!” He wailed. “She said wait.”

“Yeah, we heard her.” Robin finally nodded, squeezing your hand reassuringly as you both leapt from the boat.

-

You'd never been a strong swimmer, even with all the summers spent by the Harrington's pool. Much more interested in getting some sun instead of swimming laps.

Only now you were regretting never listening to the boy when he tried to give you those life preserving pointers, as you swam to the pulsating gate beneath Lover's Lake. Your lungs were on fire by the time you made it to the opening, Robin extending her hand to help you through.

Eddie surprisingly followed a moment after, while you were still trying to catch your breath.

Suddenly, ear splitting screeching noises and Nancy's voice pulled your focus in time to see Satan’s own flying hell spawn attacking Steve on the ground, as she attempted to fight them off.

“Oh my God! We have to help them!” You shouted, taking off in a sprint toward your friends, Eddie and Robin hot on your heels. All regard for your own safety was quickly forgotten.

A weapon was the furthest thing from your mind but as you drew closer, you realized just how dire the situation appeared.

Steve was being strangled by one of the creatures, with its tail wrapped around his neck and another making a meal of him. Nancy had successfully pried one off and was in the midst of fighting it back.

“Steve! Just hang on!” You shouted, stomping a foot down directly on this thing's back as it shrieked out in pain releasing its jaw from his side, immediately turning its attention toward you.

“Oh fuck.” You hissed, as it leapt up taking flight. You turned to run but Robin was right there with an oar.

You ducked as she bashed into this thing, splintering the wood as it fell to the ground. Rushing over you began to stomp on it repeatedly until it stopped moving.

You all turned in time to see Steve holding this creature by the tail and whip it around hitting the ground until it lost consciousness. Stepping on it with his bare foot and pulling until he ripped it apart with his bare hands.

“Fuck,” you huffed, stunned. He was bloodied and bruised, as he spit blood from his mouth, but he was alive.

Robin leaned over slightly, whispering low enough for only you to hear.

“Might want to pick your jaw up off the floor.”

You shut your mouth and shot her a sideways glance, as she snickered.

The joy of a victory was short lived as you rushed over to Steve’s side.

‘Steve, are you okay?” Suddenly hurdling yourself into his chest with a thud as he grunted out, throwing your arms around his neck as he wound his around your back, holding a little too tightly and maybe a few seconds too long before letting go to give you a proper answer.

“Well,” Looking down at his torso, when you stepped back. “They took about a pound of flesh. But, other than that, yeah, never better.”

Robin began ranting about rabies, but you couldn’t take your eyes off of Steve as your own set of worries began to seep in. Completely lost on the conversation around you until you heard Nancy yell.

“The woods. Come on!”

“Y/N, c’mon!” Steve frantically tugged at your arm before you all made a run for cover.

You were huddled under skull rock pressed in like sardines, waiting with bated breath until the bats finally dispersed.

Everyone grumbled, and voiced concerns as you stood. Steve took a few uneasy steps before he fell against the rocky surface opposite of you.

“Oh shit,” coming out on a shaky exhale, as he tried to upright himself.

“Steve?” Your head whipped around as you stepped into his space, reaching out to help steady him.

“I'm fine. I'm fine.” He huffed out, still a little dazed.

“No, no you're not. You're bleeding. Sit down.” Worrying over him.

He slid down, as you knelt in front of him, guiding his wrist to take his hand away from his oozing wound. Nancy began to tear the bottom of her shirt, quickly handing you the fabric.

Robin started rambling about rabies again before you glared at her.

“Rob, not helping!” You hissed before she mumbled an apology and backed away from the two of you.

“You ready?” Asking him as he looked down at you, poised with his makeshift bandage.

“Yeah, just do it.” He pinched his eyes closed, bracing himself, wincing once you pulled it taut against his abdomen and began wrapping.

“Too tight?” Chancing a glance up at him but he was already staring down at you, with a scowl plastered across his features.

“Why the hell are you down here?” He suddenly blurted out.

“What the hell do you mean? We all jumped in for you.” His question genuinely bewildered you, eyes drifting back down, concentrating on the task at hand. Wouldn't he do the same for any of you?

“You should have stayed in the boat. Like I told you to.” He chides.

You work to finish covering his wounds, ignoring the sting of his words. Scolding you as if you were a petulant child who didn't listen to their father.

“A thank you would be nice.” Mumbling out as he winced when you tightened it to begin tying it off.

“A thank you?” Scoffing down at you. “Well instead of me dying, now we all might die. Don't you get that? Jesus, Y/N you don't lis— Fuck!” He hissed out.

You made sure to pull the last knot even tighter, effectively cutting off the rest of his little tirade.

“Oops.” You smirked, finally standing and stepping away from him.

You were drenched and cold, suddenly all too aware of your grim situation. You sure as hell didn't need a lecture from him right now after saving his ass.

“Fuck off Steve! We were all trying to save you!” You shouted, leaving the rest of the crew to stare around awkwardly, shifting gazes amongst each other.

“I didn't need to be saved! You should have stayed on the fucking boat!” He yelled back.

“Hey, guys,” Nancy cleared her throat, trying to break the tension between the two of you before it got any worse.

“What?!” Shouting in unison, turning your heads to look over at her.

“Maybe we should get going, yeah? And uh… stay a little quieter?” Her eyes drifted to the treetops overhead, scanning a moment.

You'd both been so fixated on the other, the horrors of the upside down had slipped your minds. She was right, you were trying to avoid attention, not bring it directly on top of you.

“Let's all just calm down and get through this together.” She hummed, satisfied with your nods of agreement taking off ahead of you once more as Robin followed.

Eddie's wide eyes met yours and then Steve's.

“Right, I should, uh…” he said, thumb pointed in their direction. “But uh, here.” Shrugging his vest off before forcefully tossing it toward Steve's chest.

“For your modesty dude.” Smirking before he darted away to follow after the girls.

Steve sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, voice coming out quieter this time but still laced with annoyance.

“C’mon. Just stay close and don't wander off.” Before taking a few steps to catch up to Eddie.

“Don't wander off.” Mocking under your breath, staying a few paces behind, not wanting to be near your ungrateful so-called best friend.

The forest got darker the further you went. It felt like eyes were on you the entire time. You wrap your arms around yourself, suddenly feeling chilled and uneasy, closing the gap between yourself and the boys.

You were close enough now to catch bits and pieces of their hushed conversation, more Eddie talking than not. You knew Steve well enough that he was still brooding about the entire situation. He didn't hate you, quite the opposite. His harsh tone only masks his own worries and fears.

You caught him more than once glancing over his shoulder to make sure you were never too far away.

“Dustin… said I was badass?”

“Oh yeah. Shit. Kid WORSHIPS you, man. Like, you got no idea. It's rather annoying to be honest.”

You smirked at that. Dustin never told Steve anything like that, coming off as an annoying little brother all the time.

“Those ladies jumped in after you and I was too damn ashamed to be the one who stayed behind. Wheeler there, she didn’t waste a second. I mean not a split second. She just dove right in. I don’t know what happened between you two, but… I’d get her back, man. Whatever it takes. ‘Cause that… that was as unambiguous a sign of true love as these cynical eyes have ever seen.”

Steve stops at Eddie's spiel, looking over his shoulder once more, as you roll your eyes. Of course it was always about Nancy. The one that got away. Not like you tried to dive in first, right? Eddie was too freaked out to notice back there.

Before Steve had the chance to respond the ground began to shake once more, as everyone tried to hang on. You lost your footing, tripping over a stump and thankfully not landing on one of those damn vines, losing sight of everyone behind an overgrown thatch of bushes.

The rumbling slowed to a dull roar just as something caught your eye in a small clearing up ahead, emanating a small bluish-purple glow through the trees ahead. It was faint but while everything in the Upside Down was muted and dull it stuck out like a sore thumb.

As if it was pulling you in, you stumbled forward, quickly righting yourself and heading toward it. It was pulsing slightly; a steady, slow rhythm like a heartbeat.

You stopped at the center of the clearing, as you stepped closer, you realized it was a flower or at least flower shaped. Something akin to a Dahlia back home but it was a glowing azure color, petals almost transparent.

There were a few unopened buds that were also pulsing. The closed pods thumped, not taking notice of the way the pulses quickened as you stepped closer.

Your mind was clouded as you watched them. Beauty in a barren landscape, so mesmerizing you didn't hear Steve calling out for you.

As if on autopilot, your hand began to drift toward it as he jogged up beside you.

“Hey, did you not hear me calling for you? What're y—” He trailed off, feeling helpless watching your fingertips graze the pod as he tried to yank you back, but it was too late.

You were both too close when the thing practically exploded open, releasing a cloud of pearlescent powder into the space between you.

The dust landed on everything in a five-foot radius, as it invaded your lungs causing you both to choke on what you could only think of as its pollen. He grabbed the back of your shirt, dragging you away.

“What the hell was that?” He asked in between coughs and a few sneezes.

“I don't…” before you could properly form a response, screeching could be heard from overhead once more.

“Shit!” He hissed, before shouting back to the others to run for it. The hive mind. Everything was connected down here, it only made sense the flowers were too. The flying bats were back.

You and Steve took off the opposite way that you entered the clearing, dodging vines and low hanging branches in the process. He was trying to slow down so you could keep up.

“C’mon y/n. I think I see a building up ahead!” He shouted.

It was a dilapidated looking cabin, but it would have to do, as he took the steps two at a time reaching the porch with you right behind him.

He barreled through the door, thankful it wasn't locked as you rushed past him, slamming it shut in time to see some of the creatures flying low, unsure if they'd spotted you.

His hands quickly moved to the deadbolt, looking around the small space grabbing a chair, wedging it under the door handle.

You both stood there a moment facing the door, trying to catch your breath as a loud thump echoed overhead as it landed on the roof. It let out an ear-piercing screech that had you covering your ears. Steve hovered his finger over his lips as a shushing motion as a few more thuds and mirrored screeches followed.

He was trying to think, shining the flashlight this way and that, finding an open door near the edge of the kitchen, spotting a set of stairs that were leading down.

He quietly shuffled over to it, shining his beam ahead. It looked like it led to a small basement or at least a root cellar, as he nodded for you to follow as he began his descent.

You sighed, but reluctantly walked over as quietly as possible and trailed behind him, closing the door softly behind you. There was no lock, but it did latch shut.

It was dark, the only light emanating from his flashlight, as he shined it back to the stairs for you to climb down.

“I think we'll be safer down here.” He whispered. “There's a cot over there.” Pointing to the corner.

It was a small room. No other outlet, looking more like a bunker than a cellar. Shelves lined the wall with food and various supplies. At least you were covered if you had to stay a while but hoped it wouldn't come to that.

“Steve,” You began but he immediately cut you off holding his hand up.

“If you hadn't gotten distracted, we wouldn't be in this situation.” His voice is a little louder, but still barely above a whisper.

“It's not my fault Steve, I saw something glowing, like it was pulling me in. You didn't have to fucking follow me!” You knew he was right, but you were feeling attacked.

“Yeah, I did. I'm not leaving anyone behind in this fucking place. Even if you can't follow simple directions.” He huffs, throwing a hand to his hip as he surveyed the room. “Not enough you get us separated, but you have to go and touch that weird ass flower. God knows what the hell that shits going to do to us.”

He was venting more than yelling toward you at this point, frustrated with the entire situation.

“You knew you weren't supposed to touch shit… that hive mind…”

“Steve.”

He continued to mumble over in the corner, with his back turned, throwing his hands around in dramatic fashion.

“But no! You touch it and now we're contaminated…”

“Steve!” Hissing out more forcefully, finally knocking him from his train of thought and little rant.

“What?!” He spun around, throwing the beam from his flashlight directly in your face. “What Y/N?”

You threw a hand up shielding your eyes with a grimace before he quickly lowered it, mumbling an apology.

“Can you just stop pacing? It's not helping anything. You're just giving me a headache.” You grumbled, sitting down on the cot. It slightly squeaked under your newly added weight, as your elbows landed on your knees, bringing your hands to cover your face with a groan.

“You're giving me a headache…” he mumbled slightly under his breath, but you still caught it. He found a small chair in the opposite corner, plopping down with a sigh.

After about ten minutes of total silence, you laid back on the cot, unwilling to give him any more attention. Though he continued to mutter under his breath occasionally, you ignored him.

“Hey,” he finally spoke up. “I'm going to give it a few more minutes and see if they're still on the roof. Maybe we can make a break for Nance’s place and regroup.”

“Yeah, fine.” Huffing a reply with an eye roll.

It was then you noticed a strange tingling on the skin around your neck, kind of like a cold chill. Shaking your head as you sit up, to rub the back of your neck.

“You ok?” He asked, watching intently.

“Fine. Just… a chill.” You shrugged, as he nodded.

Another drawn out silence before either of you attempt to speak.

“Hey, are you… do you feel itchy?” He asked, scratching his exposed shoulder.

“Um, well now that you mention it, yeah. This spot on my neck is itchy.” Your hand absentmindedly reached up, scratching at it again.

“It's that damn flower. I knew it!” He exclaimed, standing up. “Look, we need to see if we can get out of here.”

You watched him carefully retreat up the stairs, his footsteps creaking across the floorboards above your head, stopping for a few moments before making their way back over to the door as he came back into view.

“Ok, looks like we might be here for a while. They're still moving around up there, and when I looked out the window there's a few in the surrounding trees.” He slid back down into the chair, spreading out as much as he could to make himself comfortable.

“Fuck, isn't that just great?” You huffed out, taking your turn to pace the small room. Was it getting hot in here? A bead of sweat rolled down your back. When did it get so muggy?

“Just calm down, we'll get out of here. Okay?” He sounded so sure of himself; you almost believed him.

You sat back down, stretching your legs out onto the cot and finally laying back. The situation was looking bleak, your own mind filling with anxious stress. At least Steve’s here. You don’t have to die alone.

You watched him from the corner of your eye, wiping his brow several times before finally rolling your head toward his direction.

The vest Eddie gave him hung open, revealing his chest, the thick smattering of hair slick and matted down. Was he sweating too? His toned chest moving up and down, a steady rhythm with each breath he took. His head was leaned back on the wall behind him, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.

You pulled your lip between your teeth, before letting go as he picked his head up looking at you as if he could feel your eyes on him. You didn't look away, holding his gaze.

“Steve?” You finally asked.

“Yeah?” His eyes shift away from your face, trailing down your body before looking back up as his tongue darted out wetting his parched lips.

“Is it hot in here?” Sitting up, fanning yourself. “I feel like I'm burning up.”

“Yeah… yeah, no. I thought it was just me.” Letting out a sigh. “It could be the close quarters, but I don't think we should go upstairs yet.”

“No, yeah. You're right.” You laid back down, eyes to the ceiling. You could ignore the heat if it meant survival for at least a bit longer.

He turned the light off a little while later, trying to conserve what little battery life it had left.

At some point you drifted off to sleep because you were roused by him touching your arm. It felt like ice touching your flushed skin as you sat straight up trying to catch your bearings.

“Hey! Woah, it's just me.” He soothed, as you flinched away from his unusual cold touch. He pulled his hands back, giving you some space. “I wanted to check on you. I don't think it's hot down here. I think it's us.”

You felt dizzy sitting all the way up, throwing the back of your hand to your forehead. You were on fire. Your nearly dry clothes were sticking to the dampness of your flushed skin, making you cringe. There was also an overwhelming feeling of an unquenchable thirst in the back of your throat.

“Fuck, Steve. I really did it this time.” You folded over yourself, head in your hands, groaning at the way you almost felt drunk or drugged, wondering if he felt as bad as you did.

“No, hey. Look, I'm sorry about earlier. It's not your fault. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. I’m the reason we’re in this situation.” You moved your head to look up at him, willing your bleary eyes to focus. A thin sheen of sweat covered his exposed skin, hair sticking against his forehead. His eyes are what caught your attention the most.

His usual golden flaked, honey hued irises were a mere fraction of a ring around a black abyss. This pollen was affecting him the same, he just had a better poker face but he couldn't control the truth his eyes showed you.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked, as you sat there unblinking.

“Yeah, I…” Shaking your head to look away. “Yeah, no. I don't fucking know right now.”

He shuffled over to one of the shelves looking for some water or anything to help alleviate your symptoms. Pausing for a moment, wondering if anything could be trusted from the Upside Down but there wasn't anything of value he could find in any case.

“Fuck!” He hissed, turning back around.

“Steve, it's ok.” You croaked out. “Just sit down.” You patted the small space beside you on the cot as you scooted over. He hung his head and skirted back over, sitting down carefully trying not to touch you.

_

He didn't want to tell you that while you were sleeping this overwhelming urge started to come over him. An ache low in his belly, and groin. It started out dull but began to grow, radiating through him as a spiked sense of arousal began thrumming through his veins.

Shame began to wash over him. How could he be so turned on at a time like this? A few more minutes passed when he was hit with the most intoxicating scent. It was faint at first. When he took in another heavy exhale it invaded his nostrils and filled his lungs.

He didn't understand where it was coming from, but he felt light, almost high, as he continued to breathe in and out, letting it wash over him. He could only describe it as a familiar, yet exotic thing, wrapping him up in a warm hug. It was almost irresistible, in the way a bakery or candy shop lures you in with promises that, yes it tastes just as good as it smells.

He turned the light back on, shining it toward your still sleeping form, shifting his hooded and heavy eyes over you stretched out on the small cot. There wasn't much skin showing, aside from your exposed arms but then you turned toward him as your shirt rose up slightly, exposing a sliver along your hip that suddenly had him drooling.

He felt his cock stir in his pants, with an ache that was suddenly all consuming. He hadn't realized when he'd gotten up, but he was suddenly standing over you, reaching out, fingertips grazing your arm.

You stirred slightly, as he watched your lips part with a soft breath settling back down.

He placed his palm to your arm, fingers wrapping around your soft, pliable flesh and an instant feeling of relief flooded his senses but then you'd woken, startling him out of this sudden trance.

-

You stretched and yawned beside him, shedding the last bits of slumber from your small nap. You couldn't have been out long, but you were so tired and thirsty.

Had he been awake the whole time? A sudden pang of guilt overtook you at the thought.

“If you need a nap, I'll move so you can take the cot.” Saying as you slowly stood, stiff on unsure legs, as you swayed just a bit plopping back down, your arm brushing his. It was brief but the feeling was cool against the searing heat radiating from you.

“Woah, just take it easy, yeah?” He turned toward you, hands at the ready but just hovering. He didn't trust himself right now.

“How… how are you so cold? Your skin, I mean? I thought you were hot too?”

“I am, look at me. I'm fucking sweating.” He gestured toward himself, a thin sheen of sweat still covering his face and body.

“Can I…” You couldn't get the question out before your hand was already reaching up, suddenly gripping his wrist.

Your brain is flooded with endorphins. A dopamine hit that had you suddenly searching for more. Your eyes closed at the contact, missing the way Steve’s mouth parted slightly releasing a shuddered breath.

As if you had no control of your body, your other hand moved up, planting itself firmly on Steve's chest, eliciting a small whimper from him that made your eyes shoot back open.

“Do you feel that?” You asked, watching his eyes flutter closed. All he could do was nod, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth.

You moved his wrist up, as he opened his hand, already anticipating what you were thinking, as you placed his palm to your chest.

“Oh my God,” it slipped out, almost a moan more than words. His hand immediately soothing the patch of exposed skin that had your eyelids lazily closing once more.

“It feels so good, Steve.” You breathed out.

Your words were doing nothing to quell his ever-growing arousal. He took in a heavy breath and there it was. That overpowering aroma was suddenly surrounding him once more, too heavy to ignore.

It was you.

When you opened your heavy-lidded eyes, the pupils were blown wide, full of lust and desire. Your lips parted slightly, releasing a small exhale you had been holding. All he wanted to do was lean in and press his lips to yours, letting his tongue explore and taste all that you had to offer.

“No.” He hissed out, jumping up and stumbling back, putting a little space between the two of you.

“What? What's wrong?” You asked, mourning the loss of his contact.

“This. This isn't… Jesus!” He whispered out, trying to maintain his composure. “Can't you see what's happening? It's the goddamn flower, that powder. It's making us… whatever this is.” Gesturing between the two of you.

Of course he had an attraction to you. He'd been harboring, what he thought, were unrequited feelings for the better part of two years.

“Yeah, I know, but it feels so good when you touch me, Steve.” Your voice was dripping with seduction, even if you hadn't meant it that way. Your head was getting all fuzzy again, swaying a little.

“Goddamnit, we need to get out of here.” He hissed, wiping his forehead. “I'm checking upstairs again.”

You watched him go, leaning back on the small cot once more.

Aside from the dizziness, there was something stirring just under your skin. An itch you couldn't quite scratch, a buzz or a hum starting at the base of your neck, traveling down your spine sending a sudden spark to your lower abdomen like when you were… Oh God. Your legs closed as if by their own volition when that spark suddenly had your core clenching around nothing just as he descended back down the stairs.

“I think we're almost in the clear. The ones in the trees are gone and… hey, are you okay?” Finally noticing the almost pained expression etched across your face.

“I… I'm… Steve, what the hell is wrong with us?” You sat up quickly, getting to your feet with a gentle sway. He didn't think this time reaching for you.

His touch both soothed and electrified you. Cooling hands on hot skin but an even hotter feeling pooling between your thighs, making a small whimper escape you.

He closed his eyes as your cheek hit his chest. He was trying to think of something, anything else other than the way you felt against him.

You inhaled deeply, his woodsy musk surrounding you entirely. It was illogical. You'd both been in the lake and running through the woods, yet his scent was mouth watering.

“God, Steve, you smell so good.” You murmured, feeling intoxicated, grabbing onto Eddie's vest with clenched fists.

“Yeah, s—so do you.” Dropping his hands to rest on your hips, your head lifting at his admission.

“Yeah?” You asked, almost breathless. He nods, licking his lips, your eyes landing there as your hands slip under the vest smoothing over his chest, the coarse hair tickling your palms as a shiver ran down his spine.

It's like you couldn't stop yourself, stepping closer into his space as his grip on you tightened, pulling you fully into him, your lower stomach meeting his hips.

“Steve?” Asking as you inch forward, calves beginning to strain as you stand on the tips of your toes.

“Yeah?” He asks, holding his breath.

“I really want to kiss you.”

No sooner than the statement left your lips, he surged forward closing the gap.

Parched from the day's activities left his usual plush, soft looking lips chapped and dry but you didn't mind.

An immediate feeling of relief washed over you. It was like finding an oasis in the desert, drinking the taste of him down, briefly quenching that immeasurable thirst.

He tilted his head, bringing his hand to the back of your head, tangling his fingers into your hair as his nose pressed further into your cheek. You worked in tandem until his tongue dared to slip out, silently begging for permission.

You parted your lips with a soft moan as they met, slowly circling and entangling but you were hungry for more. Your hand slid up his chest and wound around the nape of his neck, finding his usual soft strands of hair, dirty and matted, pulling on the ends before pulling him closer, earning you a moan that you eagerly swallowed down.

The hand on your hip traveled south, snaking its way to the fat of your ass, suddenly groping and kneading your pliant flesh through your jeans pushing you further into him. His now very prominent hard cock pressed into the softness of your lower abdomen, taking you by surprise when you felt it twitch between you as he groaned.

At some point the two of you had begun moving, only realizing it when your back hit the far wall, knocking you from your trance. Your lips separated but still momentarily connected by a thin string of saliva as you pant into each other's mouths.

“Fuck, I need you, Steve.” You hissed out, pushing at the shoulders of the denim vest he still wore.

“Wait,” A moment of clarity for him, grabbing your wrists to halt your movements making you pout, as he looked around the dingy, cobweb infested space.

“Shit I— we can't do that down here.”

“Why not?” Asking, as your lower lip jutted out, eyebrows crinkling. The ache in your lower abdomen was getting worse, your clit was throbbing, practically begging for any kind of stimulation.

He shouldn't have looked at you. Your eyes were glossy in the dim light, looking as if tears were about to roll down your cheeks. He wasn't any better off. His cock was throbbing painfully against his pants, a wet patch of precum visible where his head laid.

“Goddamnit!” He hissed, pausing for a deep breath, tilting his head toward the ceiling. “Because I don't want the first time with you to be on a filthy basement cot in the upside down!”

You couldn't help the grin that lifted the edges of your lips into a smirk, as you continued to stare at his bared throat. Wondering for a moment what it would be like to sink your teeth into him. This deep primal hunger was overpowering your senses, overtaking any other basic needs.

“Fuck me upstairs then.” You blurted out.

“Wh—what?” As if he'd misheard you, whipping his head back down.

“I said,” leaning closer to him. “Fuck. Me. Upstairs. There's a bed up there.” You nip at his nose and giggle when he pulls back, grip moving, holding firm to your shoulders.

When it disbursed, you had taken the brunt of the pollen, if you could even call it that, apparently it was affecting you more severely, unable to concentrate on anything else for more than a few seconds at a time.

“We can't— you— don't know what you're saying, and those things are still up there.”

“Stevie, please?” Your voice drips with desire, sultry and sweet. Looking up at him with your best doe eyes had all manner of his resolve quickly fading.

“I can be quiet. I promise.” You whispered with a pout, as your fingertips dance along his exposed chest. “What're friends for, Stevie? We need to help each other out.”

“Fuck,” he groans, slipping his hand into yours, turning without saying another word to grab the flashlight pulling you along. He wasn't going to be able to hold out, suddenly driven by the unwavering need in his pants, it seemed better to give in to your advances than try to fight them. Your sweet tone, seemingly needing him just as much as he needs you, he couldn't resist.

His mind was flooded with the vivid image of how your tight cunt would feel wrapped around his shaft, he quickly ascended the stairs looking back once holding his finger to his lips when he reached the door, easing it open. The rush of cooler air hit you as soon as the door opened for a small reprieve.

“I'm going to check out the windows, go down the hall. Quietly.” Nodding toward the right. “The first door on the left has a bed and no windows.”

You nod your understanding as he lets go of your hand, letting you go your separate ways. Tiptoeing down the hall, it was quiet, aside from the errant clap of thunder that echoed through the walls every thirty seconds or so.

The room had been exactly where he had explained. It seemed small, but the only light filtered in from the hall, illuminating only a portion of the bed. As your eyes adjusted, the bed came more into view, a little dusty but bigger than the cot downstairs.

You threw the quilt back, revealing surprisingly pristine sheets underneath. You decided to discard your muddy, lake soaked shoes as he came into view.

He had turned his light off, a silhouette of broad shoulders illuminated against a dusky red backdrop as another bolt of lightning split the sky outside. He stood there lingering in the doorway, eyes briefly running over your form. Your breath hitched in your throat drinking him in when he finally took a few steps forward.

He stood before you without saying a word, quickly finding your hips and wasting no time pulling you flush against him once more as you let out a small squeak of surprise bracing yourself against his chest.

“Steve, I—”

You were quickly cut off when he sealed his lips over yours. His intoxicating scent once again surrounded you as your brain began to shut off, driven only by your primal desires.

Your hand trailed down his abdomen, fingertips grazing his bandages finding the exposed skin low by his waistband. He shuddered at your soft, lingering touch. Going lower still, he hisses and pulls back from your kiss as you palm at his erection over his pants.

It felt like you were on autopilot. The only thought in the forefront of your mind was the overpowering need for relief. The need to be as close as possible.

He was taken by surprise when you grabbed the lapels of his vest and quickly pulled him around. The back of his knees hit the bed, as he fell rather ungracefully.

The springs groaned under the sudden pressure of his added weight as he let out a grunt, uttering a “shit,” under his breath.

You quickly straddled his legs, giving him no time for protest, crawling up and sitting flush on his bulge trying to be mindful of those raw wounds fresh on his sides.

A chorus of expletives left both of your lips the moment your hips grind down searching for friction with your hands pressing firmly to his chest holding him in place. Your aching clit gets some relief, the stiff denim pressing into you sliding down the rigid length of him and back up. A fresh wave of arousal flooding from your core adding to your already ruined panties.

In any other circumstances, you would feel embarrassed rutting up against your best friend like a wild animal in heat, but seeking out and taking what you needed was first and foremost.

You leaned forward, burying your face in his neck, breathing him in.

“I could eat you up.” You whisper, lips grazing just below his ear, teeth nipping at his sensitive skin before your tongue rolls out, languidly licking at his jugular, his pulse thumping wildly against your muscle.

You whine, relishing the salty, earthy and coppery mixture as it settles along your taste buds, feeling him shutter beneath you taking a ragged breath only adding to your desire.

His hands find the plush of your hips, pulling you down to meet an upward thrust that has you leaning back up and moaning out without any regard for his earlier warnings and your promise.

His eyes shot up to you, barely illuminated in the dim light but you were a sight to see.

Your head is thrown back as if you were already in the throes of heady pleasure. Your mouth hung open slightly, another breathy wine escaping as you dragged your hips against his cock once more. Any and all of what was left of his will power was gone. His imagination ran rampant with the thought of you coming undone, falling apart only for him.

In one swift motion, he bucked his hips, gaining momentum to flip you over. Your back hits the mattress, making you gasp sharply as he seated himself between your parted thighs.

Your eyes go wide with surprise when his hand quickly shoots to your mouth, his large palm stifling your sounds.

Leaning further into your space, his lips ghost the shell of your ear as he spoke.

“I'm going to give you what you want but you've got to be quiet. Can you do that for me?”

You nod, fisting the vest in your hands, letting out a small whimper as he slowly took his hand away.

“Use your words, honey.” He scolded.

“Yes, I– I can be quiet.” You breathed out, beginning to feel faint.

“Good girl.” He purred, his words sending your mind into overdrive.

You pawed at his chest, pushing the denim at his shoulders. He sat up, finally pulling it free from his body and tossing it across the room. Your hands roam across the expanse of his chest and broad shoulders.

He reached the hem of your shirt, fingers skirting up your tummy, cool fingertips sending goosebumps across your flesh. You nodded as his eyes caught yours before he quickly pulled it over your head.

He sucked in a sharp breath, watching intently as your chest rose, pushing your breasts against the cups of your bra with each steady inhale, threatening to spill out all on their own before you reached behind, deftly unclasping it and lifting it away.

“Fuck, honey.” His eyes go dark, one of his large hands immediately finding its way to your soft skin. His calloused palm engulfing you as he kneads timidly, at first. You keen into his touch, arching upward, searching for more.

His mouth meets your pert nipple on the other side, swirling his tongue and roughly squeezing the breast under his palm. He nips at the taut bud as if testing the waters, teeth grazing before applying more pressure and immediately soothing the mild sting, laving the wet muscle back across your skin.

To keep from crying out, you bite down on your lip, whimpering as his touch sends shockwaves of pleasure down your body, shooting straight to your core.

He pulls off of you with an audible pop, eyes darting to your face when he feels you trying to push his pants down.

“Please, Steve. I need you! I can't wait.” You hiss out, still trying to maintain a whisper but the longer this keeps getting drawn out the more desperate you become, aching to be filled. An ache that was growing so strong it was boarding on painful.

Dipping your way past his waistband just a moment later, he shudders when your fingertips graze the soft skin of his shaft, wrapping your hand around his girthy cock.

“Oh fuck,” he breathes out, ducking his head into the crook of your neck, trying to muffle his own sounds as you stroke up and back down at an agonizingly slow pace.

Your thumb finds his head, a steady stream of precum already leaking from the tip, swirling your digit in the mess was almost too much as he sinks his teeth into the juncture between your neck and shoulder.

Your mouth fell agape with a silent gasp, a cry caught in your throat as your other hand flew to the back of his head, fingers digging into his locks and tugging harshly. He quickly unhinges his jaw, peppering kisses where his teeth had just been.

“M’sorry,” he mumbles out, pulling back and swatting your hands away from his pants as he sits up.

Your thighs go slack, as he blindly pops the button on your jeans, pulling the zipper down harshly, digging into the denim waistband before you lift your hips aiding in him hastily tugging them and your panties down your legs.

He tosses them somewhere behind him, before standing up and shedding his own pants and boxers, letting them unceremoniously pool at his feet.

Your eyes quickly rove over as much of his naked body as the dim lighting would allow, licking your lips. His cock was standing at full attention, curved slightly upward as he wrapped his own hand around it, pumping it lightly a few times.

His knees find the mattress, planting his hands on your thighs, spreading them apart to accommodate his frame.

Pausing a moment to appreciate the site before him, his fingertips trail the inside of your thigh, inching closer to where you yearn for him the most. You let out a small yelp of surprise when he tightened his grip and pulled you toward him.

“Steve,” you plead, as he ghosts over your slick lips, his thumb and forefinger spread you apart with a sticky release before he finally presses his thumb pad down onto your puffy clit making your hips buck up.

Sensing your urgent need, his finger begins to tease your aching hole, your arousal drips out, as he finally dips in, your hips rising up in time to push his digit further in.

Your head falls back into the pillow, the hand at your hip pushes you flush against the mattress holding you there as he pumps in and out of your tight pussy, quickly adding a second finger to help stretch you out.

“I can smell your needy cunt.” He hisses, practically salivating. Both of your pheromones were in overdrive, your scent wafting through the air like honey, luring him in. A feast begging to be devoured. “I bet you taste just as sweet.”

His words mixed with his current ministrations left you teetering on the edge, his digits stroke up, finding that sweet spot along your frontal wall and just when you were about to fall apart, it suddenly disappeared. Feeling as though it was subdued by some unseen force, leaving you whimpering and unsatisfied, as tears spring to your eyes in frustration.

“Steve, I— it's not working, I need more.” You huff out. It was then you noticed he was fisting his cock, searching for his own release alongside you.

“Fuck, yeah, okay.” He let out a little breathless. “It's not working f’me either.”

You immediately mourn the loss as his fingers slip from you before he promptly shoves them past his lips, humming around the taste, the potent elixir bursting on contact with his taste buds flooding his senses, igniting his insatiable hunger even further.

“Jesus Christ, I fuckin’ knew it.” His pupils dilate, high on the taste of you, a drug he suddenly realized he'll never be able to fully detox from.

He grips the base of his cock with one hand, leaning over and lining himself up with your soaked entrance, pressing the tip in, feeling your gummy walls start to mold around him, as your hands fly up to grip his shoulders.

“Please.” It was a breathy thing, as your muscles instinctually constricted around the welcome intrusion.

He groans, unable to hold himself back any further, snapping his hips and burying himself in one fluid motion. Your pussy gives little resistance between how wet you are and the unrelenting desire to be completely filled.

“Oh God!” Biting back another loud moan being ripped from your chest, digging your teeth into your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood this time, as his thick cock splits you open.

There was a slight burn, as he sat snugly inside your tight channel that quickly gave way to overwhelming pleasure when he pulled back, withdrawing almost completely leaving just his leaking tip before plunging back in, somehow feeling deeper than before.

You muffle your cries the best you can, as he begins to set a near brutal pace. Every thrust pulling little ah, ah, ahs past your lips as your legs tighten around his waist, heels digging into the fat of his ass pushing him further into you.

He hisses and stills when your legs gripping a little too tight, pull his focus from fucking you to the searing pain at his sides. The wounds had been forgotten from the pure ecstasy he was feeling.

“Shit, I'm sorry.” It was enough to knock you from your lust fueled haze momentarily as he pulled out.

“Flip over.” He grunts.

“Wha—” A sharp smack to the side of your thigh has the words dying on your tongue with a gasp.

“Flip. Over.” Repeating himself a little more forcefully. The soft boy next door being replaced with a rougher version, that suddenly had your pussy clenching around nothing at his harsh demeanor.

You rolled onto your stomach, as his hands came to grip your hips with a bruising force, pulling your ass up.

He wastes no time shoving his throbbing length back between your glistening lips, bumping your clit once before slowly guiding his ruddy tip past your entrance, as your cunt flutters around him practically sucking him in.

He's trying to contain his grunts to a minimum, when your noises start to fill the air he brings his palm down hard against your ass, making you jerk away, burying your face in the sheets below with a whine.

“Giving you exactly what you want, and you still can't keep that pretty mouth shut?” He hisses, grinding his hips slowly, to properly scold you. “Feels too good, huh, honey?”

You merely mewl and nod, before another smack echoes around the room, his palm smoothing soothingly over your reddened cheek.

“I asked you a question, honey.” His voice is lazy, dripping sugary sweet condescension.

“Yes, Steve, mmph— it— you feel so, so good.” Finally able to mumble out a coherent sentence.

He smirks, letting a hand slide down the length of your spine, fingers coming up to tangle in the hair at the back of your head before hauling you up, back flush against his sweaty chest.

Winding his arm around your midsection, the other detangles from your hair to cover your mouth as he places a soft kiss to your temple before his hips snap harshly, the new angle making you cry out, but it's muffled with his palm securely placed over your lips.

“Gotta be quiet, remember honey?” He huffs, breath hot against your neck, unrelenting in his conquest to see your demise.

You grip his forearm, nails digging crescents into his skin, hanging on for dear life. Each outward stroke and upward thrust, punching the air from your lungs as your eyes roll back, suddenly careening you toward the edge of oblivion.

His hand helps stifle your moans, blunt fingertips digging into the apple of your cheek, but you can't help the involuntary sounds that continue to slip out.

“Fuck, y—you feel good.” He stutters out, right in your ear. “Pussy feels like it was made f’me. Mmmm. Gripping me so fuckin' tight.”

The hand around your waist starts drifting south, coming to caress your mound momentarily before delving between your folds finding your puffy, neglected clit with expert ease, drawing swift circles against you causing your cunt to constrict around him sending another wave of arousal flooding out, soaking his balls and dripping down your thighs.

“That's it, honey. I promise we'll get there this time.” His cocky demeanor was doing it for you. You'd never seen this side of Steve, taking control, fucking you better than anyone ever had.

“You're going to cum on my cock while I stuff this cunt full.” You whined out at his words, high pitched against his palm. “That's what you want, huh? Fill you up and make it stick? F—fuck I think I'm close.”

You try to nod, letting him know you were too.

The heat that had been simmering for the last hour in your abdomen was finally reaching a boiling point. Pressure was building, as he continued to pound into you, his cock hitting at just the right angle.

Your grip on his forearm tightened, fingernails beginning to draw blood, but he didn't show any signs of distress, never ceasing his movements solely focused on you and the way you felt around him.

You close your eyes, as the flames begin to lick up your spine, spreading further and growing hotter. It was an all-consuming pleasure, your cunt begging for release, begging for his release.

Whatever this pollen had done to the both of you, it was clear it had a driving force with one thing in mind. Procreation. Unsatisfied and unsatiated until you were bursting full of his life giving fluid.

You're finally able to pry his hand away from you to let out one more breathy plea.

“Cum in me, Steve. I— I can't cum, I need you.” Your voice was low and raspy, but he heard you loud and clear.

He fully removed his hand, suddenly pushing you forward. Too weak to fight, your body fell onto the mattress with a small groan as he quickly withdrew himself and manhandled you around to lay on your back.

No matter what this pollen had done to him. He was still Steve deep down and he could never imagine not looking at your beautiful face as you fell apart for the first time. All for him.

He slips off the bed momentarily, picking something up from the floor before crawling back between your legs.

“I'm sorry, honey. You can't stay quiet.” He whispers.

“Wh—,” your question was cut off when he stuffs your filthy panties past your lips for a makeshift gag, kissing your forehead before grabbing the backs of your knees, practically folding you in half.

His palms push you down and hold your thighs open for him as he ruts his cock up through your folds, the tip grazing your clit before catching at your entrance. His head tips down to watch himself slowly disappear into your tight heat.

Your head flies back, feeling every ridge and vein upon his deliberate reentrance, fisting the sheets beneath you as muffled cries echo across the room. He pauses to take delight in the way your face is screwed up with pleasure as he buries himself to the hilt, suddenly wishing he could hear all the pretty sounds you were making unhindered.

He starts to move again, eyes drifting back down to where the two of you connected to watch himself plunge in and out of your soaked pussy, seemingly mesmerized by the way your greedy hole takes him so well but he tears his eyes away when he hears a pained whimper from you, pausing to search your face.

Your eyes were closed, tears flowing down the side of your face, feeling anything but pain as you looked up at him, eyes glazed over, begging him to continue.

Suddenly twitching at the thought of his impending release, he grinds his hips back into yours. The wiry thatch of hair at the base of his cock catching your clit just right, wrenching another moan from you as you nod at him to keep going.

He starts to thrust again but can tell he's close as his balls begin to draw up, and lower stomach tightens. Skin to skin doesn't seem to be enough when there's a sudden overwhelming need to be closer. He wants to crawl under your skin and embed himself there.

He releases the hold on your legs, letting them ease back to the bed as he drapes himself over you, caging you in. The hair on his chest grazes your nipples with each thrust only adding to your sensations as your hands find purchase on his back.

Holding himself up on one elbow his palm finds your breast, pressing and kneading before his mouth finds the other, sucking a little harshly leaving the top of your chest with a dark reminder as your body arches upward, craving more. His tongue moves over your pebbled nipple before he latches on.

It suddenly feels like he's everywhere all at once. Hands roaming, mouth hot as his cock continues to carve its way into your guts.

He pops off momentarily, sensing a shift in you because he can feel it too.

“You gonna cum with me, honey?” You look up into his eyes, a black abyss. The familiar hazel irises are nowhere to be found. Your best friend now hell bent on ruining you for any other man.

You nod, with a muffled “mmhmm” hoping to God you can finally crest over the precipice.

“Wrap your legs around me.” He hums, hiking your thigh up his hip. Your brows marry with confusion because of the day's earlier blunder.

“It's ok.” He soothes your worry away, large hand gripping your ass as he continues to grind down.

You do as he says, wrapping them around his torso, locking your ankles at the base of his spine. He winces only once before focusing all his concentration on pumping in and out, in and out. Making sure to tilt his pelvis on the upward thrust, simultaneously stimulating that spot deep within you and brushing your clit.

This was it. Fading embers reignited as flames slowly fanned across your lower abdomen. Your brain is all but mush, yearning for a release that only he can provide.

“I'm close.” He hisses out with a grunt, burying his head into your neck. His breath fans hot across you as he starts to whine and mutter. “M’gonna fill this pussy full. F–fuck my goddamn load so far into you. Mmpmh, is that– that’s what you want?”

A few more erratic thrusts before he pushes in so deep that his head is kissing the crown of your cervix. Your walls clamp down around him, holding him in place before his cock twitches and begins to spurt his release into your greedy womb.

Your body reacts suddenly, hot white heat floods your core with the hardest orgasm you've ever experienced. Everything around you seems to fade, as a blinding white light bursts behind your eyelids. Your cunt spasms around him, milking everything he had to give, he groans almost painfully but the sound seems so far away. If you weren't lying underneath him you would have sworn you could float away.

Your chests heave against one another as his body goes limp, crushing you in the best possible way. The lust fueled haze was extinguished with your release, leaving you tired and spent.

His softening dick kicks up a few more times making you whimper as your legs and arms fall away from him, utterly and completely exhausted.

You're pulled out of your blissful afterglow when he pulls your panties from your mouth. Humming as you close your mouth, dry and parched, smacking your lips together softly.

You still had your eyes closed, as his hand comes tp to caress your jaw, thumb running tenderly across the apple of your cheek as you both came down from your highs.

“You ok?” He asked timidly, as you nod with a “mmhmm.”

“I didn't hurt you, did I?” The sweet, caring best friend returning to his senses, as you reply a low “no.”

“Good.” He whispers back, pressing a kiss to the side of your mouth.

“Steve?” Managing to croak out, voice hoarse and rough.

“Hmmnh?” He manages, eyes fixated where the two of you were still connected, finally pulling his softening cock free, your mixed fluids flooding from your spent hole. He had the urge to shove it back in, but stopped himself.

“I was going to jump in first,” you whispered out, as his head shot up to look at you. You were completely dazed, on the verge of sleep.

“What?” He asked, easing himself back, eyes roving over your body littered with bruises and bitemarks. Proof that he hadn't experienced some sort of upside down drug induced hallucination.

“The lake.” You hummed. “Robin stopped me.” Yawning before continuing. “I would've jumped in first.”

“Yeah?” He asks, smiling softly to himself, easing beside you, brushing the loose strands of hair from your face. Spending a few more minutes tangled up in you, before the weight of reality would inevitably come crashing back down.

“Mmhmm. I'd go anywhere with you.” You confess, wrapping your arms around his middle as he pulls you into his chest. If he's being completely honest with himself, he's been in love with you for years. He would've jumped in head first if the tables were turned, he just didn't want anything to happen to you.

“I know, honey. I'd—,” a loud banging at the front door startling you both from your daydream, as he rose up ready for anything.

He hurried to get his clothes back on, throwing your bra and shirt up to you as he walked out into the hall leaving you to get dressed.

He could hear muffled voices behind the door. Your friends had circled back to find you.

Everyone stopped talking as soon as he threw open the door looking a little worse for wear.

“Oh thank God!” Robin was the first to speak, reaching out and grabbing his shoulders. “What the hell happened to you?”

“We're fine Rob,” Stepping back and letting them enter the small space, hand rubbing the back of his neck. “The bats chased us here, stuck around a while but we're fine.”

They were all chatting when you finally walked into the room clearing your throat as everyone whipped their heads around, eyes all going a little wide at your appearance.

Robin's gaze flitted your neck, as she sent you a knowing look, raising her eyebrows causing you to pull the collar of your shirt over the exposed skin as your cheeks heated.

“Seriously?!” She smacked Steve's arm, looking wide eyed back to him. “Down here? I mean, it's about time. You've only been dying to confess your feelings for wh—”

“Robin!” He hissed out, cutting off her rambling. “Stop!”

She slapped her hand over her mouth, looking over to your confused expression.

“Can uh, you guys give us a minute?” He asked, hands falling to his hips, as they all looked between each other before heading back out the door. Robin mouthed a “sorry” your way, shutting the door behind her.

“Feelings, huh?” Toeing at a small rock on the floor instead of meeting his gaze.

“Fuck. Well, yeah. It's you. How could I not?” He sighed. “But, we seriously don't ever have to talk about this again. Pretend it never happened and feelings aside, you're still my best friend.”

“What if I don't want to forget?” You bit the inside of your lip as your mouth curled into a shy grin. “And…” Taking a step toward him. “What if I told you I had feelings for you too?”

“Yeah?” He asked, reaching out to haul you in close, as you took another step.

“Yeah.” Your hands taking hold of Eddie's vest, curling into his chest. “And, once we get out of here, maybe we can try all of this again?” His face lit up, as you smiled at him. “Without the raging, horny sex pollen?”

You both huffed a laugh, relaxing into each other.

“Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that.” He nods, excitement blooming in his chest.

“C’mon handsome, let's get out of here.” Your hand found his, sending him a small giggle as you pulled him toward the door to rejoin your friends.

Despite the dismal cloud looming above he had a feeling that everything would work out this time.

Tagging a few mooties that might be interested (and please let me know if you don't want to be tagged!): @thecreelhouse @teen--marvel @bunnyhargrove @xxbimbobunnyxx

And also: @crybabyddl (since you asked!) 🙂

[ellecdc]

Hi, I don't actually know if your requests are open but I was just wondering if you could do a fic about poly!Mauraders x reader, but it's a full moon and when James and Sirius are out with moony, they run into another wolf (reader) and moony just instantly takes a liking to her. Imagine moony trying to follow her around, and reader keeps snapping her jaw at him. I could also imagine reader is maybe a Slytherin?

Sorry if this isn't good, I just popped into my head, and I went with it. Take your time, and don't rush yourself 💓

"sorry if this isn't good - don't rush" uhm, it was fantastic and I wrote it IMMEDIATELY thank youuuuu!!!! <3

poly!marauders x werewolf!reader who's unwittingly integrated into their pack [2.3k words]

CW: fem!reader, werewolf behaviour, some aggression/fighting, canine aggression and submission, Padfoot's had it up to fucking here with them all thank you very much

Padfoot wondered for a moment if maybe he was just some glorified herding dog at this point whilst he struggled to keep Moony on their usual routine when the werewolf seemed thoroughly hellbent on breaking it.

Moony - a blood hound tonight, apparently - insisted on following his nose, Padfoot’s incessant demands to stick to plan be damned. 

And unfortunately for Padfoot, it didn’t seem like Prongs or Wormtail had any clue how to deal with Moony either.

Great.

So instead of their usual routine of transforming in the shack, letting Moony out, following their trail where they run (and roll, in Moony & Padfoot’s case) down a large hill before chasing each other along the river bank, grabbing a drink from the edge of the Black Lake and slowly making their way back to the shack…Moony no sooner got to the bottom of their hill before he picked up some scent and followed it down dark, wandering paths through the Forbidden Forest.

Padfoot had tried encouraging a mouth wrestle and romp - no dice. Prongs tried taking off in a sprint, hoping to elicit Moony’s instinct to chase - no dice. Wormtail bit Moony’s foot which only saw him nearly stomped on as the werewolf continued on his journey. Prongs tried bodily shoving Moony back in the direction of the shack to no avail. 

Padfoot was just about ready to pick a bloody fight with the beast when he heard snuffling followed by a low growl.

Unfortunately for Padfoot, Moony didn’t miss it either, and before he knew which way was up, Moony took off in a sprint towards the sound. 

Padfoot hoped to come back in his next life as a border collie - maybe he’d have better luck with the likes of sheep.

And that decision was only solidified when he turned the corner to find Moony staring down another werewolf who had her hackles raised and teeth bared at the bastard who seemed either ignorant to canine body language or was actively choosing to ignore it.

At least sheep will have the bloody wherewithal to avoid danger. 

Padfoot made a quiet whimpering sound, hoping to encourage Moony to get the hells out of here, but it only served to have Moony’s ear flick in his general direction before returning to his new wolf friend. 

Prongs huffed a breath and stomped his hoof into the earth, and Padfoot noticed then that Wormtail was nowhere to be found - the bloody coward. 

Moony tried to crane his neck forward to sniff at the wolf's paws, only for the wolf to snarl and snap at him before smacking him with said paw like a sodding cat. 

Moony at least had the grace to lower himself to the ground in submission for but a moment before he bounced back up to try doing much the same. 

This time, the wolf charged at Moony, pinning him to the earth by his throat as she growled at him; the sound muffled by the fact that Moony’s sodding neck was in her mouth.

Prongs grunted and made to charge in Moony’s defence, causing the wolf to release Moony and look at him sceptically, and Moony to growl at Prongs warningly - he did not want their help. 

Fine by Padfoot. He wasn’t much interested in helping a werewolf with a death wish anyway. 

But when the wolf decided this was all perhaps a bit too much for her, turning away from the strange pack to continue on its path - of which the marauders should be on their own, thank you very much - Moony went to follow, and dammit, this was Padfoot’s pack.

And if it wasn’t his pack, it was his herd, and what kind of border collie would Padfoot be if he let his pack sheep out of his sight?

Not a very good one, is what.

So, with a huff of resignation, Padfoot trailed behind the wolves - one that kept turning to nip, snap, and snarl at pesky Moony, and pesky Moony who kept trying to get a sniff or even, more disturbingly, incite play with a gentle nip - Prongs (and Wormtail, by means of Prongs’ antlers) trailed behind him. 

The wolf seemed resigned to her fate in having company for the rest of the evening, though that didn’t mean she was pleased about it. Every time Padfoot thought the wolf’s hackles were going down, Moony playbowed in front of her like an overgrown lanky puppy, and they rose right back up. 

The new wolf, for her part, spent the evening snuffling through the dried leaves and moss on the floor, stretching against tree trunks and using the bark to sharpen her claws (still not unlike a cat), and chewing on a stick. 

Padfoot thought that actually all seemed like a really nice way to spend the evening.

Or, you know, it would have been, had he not been in charge of this ridiculous rag-tag group of misfits he unwittingly found himself responsible for. 

But eventually, the evening had to come to an end, and that end was signalled by the twitching of Moony’s muscles underneath his fur as the moon started pulling at his bones, and it appeared to be doing the same for you.

But the night couldn’t end, it seemed, if you weren’t coming with Moony. And for as annoyed as Padfoot had been all evening, he was growing increasingly anxious. 

You abandoned your stick and stood, beginning to limp away from them when Moony grunted and hurried after you, causing Padfoot and Prongs to bark and bleat respectively. 

Any levity that the wolf had found for the marauders quickly vanished in the face of her oncoming transformation and the pain radiating through her when she turned on Moony and lunged at him. Padfoot whimpered and felt his heart try to escape through his throat as earth flew up in the air due to paws digging into the ground for traction and scrambling for purchase. 

The wolf's growls were different now, though; they weren’t bored, they weren’t dismissive, and they weren’t even all that threatening. The wolf was scared - panicked, even. Padfoot could see it in the speed of her breathing and the whites of her eyes that she was quickly descending into terror. 

They were close, so close, to the shack; Padfoot was certain he could get Moony back before the transformation if he would just get a sodding move on.

But it appeared Moony was wholly unwilling to leave without this wolf, and he wasn’t taking no for an answer. 

The wolf seemed to come to the same conclusion as Padfoot, stepping away from Moony before submitting for the first time all evening, and wincing as Padfoot heard one of her joints shift. 

Moony let out a sigh, moving over to the wolf who seemed so small now that she was cowering at the base of the tree with Moony standing above her, nudging her face and neck with his nose before licking over her face. 

The wolf whimpered, and Padfoot watched as Moony’s right hind foot came out from underneath him for a moment - as if he tripped - telling him that the transformation was starting. 

Padfoot whined, and he swore Moony actually nodded his head in understanding before he gently grabbed the wolf by the scruff of the neck and encouraged her to stand. 

Resigned to her fate, the wolf followed the pack towards the shack, barely making it into the room before the transformation took over.

The first thing you noticed when you came to wasn’t the pain, though that was there. It was always there. 

No, the first thing you noticed when you came to was the feeling of linen on top of you and something soft below you. 

That wasn’t right; that couldn’t be right, could it? You were supposed to be in the cave. 

But when you shifted your arm and felt the linen - a blanket? - fall from your shoulder, you knew it was true. You were not in the cave. You were not in the cave, and someone had found you. 

“I think she’s awake.” 

Someones had found you.

You were not in the cave, people had found you, and you were not alone.

You sat up suddenly, holding the blanket to your chest as you shuffled away from the sounds before your back met something solid. Your head felt heavy and off-kilter, like you were standing on a boat swaying on rolling waves.

You had a wicked migraine coming on.

“Whoa, whoa. Easy there doll.” Another voice sounded.

“What-” You tried, cutting yourself off to clear your throat when your voice came out gravely and painful, threatening to bring up whatever you still had in your stomach from dinner two nights ago; the last time you could manage food. “Why are you- why am I here? Where am I? What-”

“Open your eyes, L/N.” The second voice offered, though you could tell the inflection was softer than it naturally was; you wondered if that took him a lot of effort. “You’re okay.”

Your breaths began to quicken because you didn’t feel okay, this didn’t feel okay. Someone knew, they knew; they had found you, you were found out.

The sun was still low, so the light in the….room? shack? hut? was dim, though it still made your eyes water with the impending migraine lined up in your temples as if just waiting for a good excuse to wreak havoc on your brain. 

You were accosted with the sight of Sirius Black crouching in front of you, elbows on his knees as his eyebrows hooked in the middle; James Potter standing behind him with his arms crossed over his chest as he looked at you much the same. 

“You’re okay.” James repeated, nodding his head encouragingly as your vision began to swim.

“Try to relax, doll; you’re not going to feel very well if you work yourself up.”

You let out a hysterical breath that bordered between a laugh and a sob as a few tears spilled out. “Relax? I- what… How could you- why are you here?”

James grimaced. “Sorry, that would be Moony’s fault.” 

“Moony? I-” But your question was cut off  when you heard the shuffling off bedding from across the room, and both James and Sirius turned towards the sound, exposing Remus Lupin sitting up on an old mattress, rubbing at his eyes as a blanket fell and pooled at his hips, exposing his bare torso that was….covered in claw marks.

“Oh gods.” You let out with a sob. “What did I- Did I do that?” 

“What?” Remus let out groggily as both Sirius and James quickly denied it. 

“No, no. Listen, angel, please relax-”

“Stop telling me to relax.” You nearly shrilled. “And stop calling me nice names!”

Too tired, too freaked out, and too confused to have chosen your wording carefully, you appeared to have said something wrong when Sirius’ mouth turned up in a salacious smirk. 

“You like our nice names?”

“No!” 

“I think you do.” James continued.

“Leave the poor girl alone.” Remus grumbled before he fell back onto his bed, rubbing harshly at his eyes.

“Where are we?” You asked simply, swallowing around your gag reflex.

“The shrieking shack.” James answered just as simply.

“Okay.” You acknowledged. “Why?”

“Well, Moony wouldn’t leave without you, so we sort of had to bring you with us.” Sirius answered.

“Moony…?”

“That’s me.” You heard Remus mutter, voice muffled from behind his hands. 

“And…I didn’t hurt anyone last night?” You asked slowly. 

James’ face softened as he started to shake his head no, but Sirius scoffed.

“Define hurt, gorgeous. I was pissed, for one. Two, you had that wanker by the throat for most of the night.” He said, gesturing behind him to Remus with a careless thumb. 

“Why?”

“He wouldn’t bloody leave you alone! I was exhausted just watching.” Sirius continued.

“Would you stop bloody shouting?” Remus grumbled, and you couldn’t help but agree as you rubbed at your head. 

“Anyway,” James continued at a more appropriate volume, “he wouldn’t leave without you, so we brought you back here for the transformation. Where…where were you going to go for the transformation?” 

You flushed as you wrapped the blanket tighter around your person. “There's…a cave I usually go to.” You admitted in a whisper.

“Well, I bet this is an upgrade then, no?” Sirius offered somewhat haughtily, but his face fell quickly when you began speaking again.

“You can’t tell anyone…please.” 

“Tell anyone?” James repeated.

“I…no one knows, no one can know.”

“Whoa, babe, hang on. Who’re we gonna tell?” Sirius asked then, a disbelieving look painting his features. 

“I-” you started, swallowing again “I don’t know but, I just, you can’t-”

“We weren’t gonna tell anyone.” James assured you. “We aren’t going to tell anyone; there’s nothing to tell.” 

You must have looked sceptical, because Sirius quickly intervened.

“Alright look, we promise not to tell anyone about your lycanthropy, as long as you promise not to tell anyone about Remus’, or about James and I being illegal, unregistered animagi.” 

Your mouth actually fell open as you looked between the three of them; James as he turned to grab some vials of pain potions and healing balms, Sirius who was smirking at you salaciously, and Remus who was carding his hand through his hair and smiling (try grimacing) at you apologetically. 

“Welcome to the pack, L/N.” Remus said wryly before he downed the potion James handed to him in one, effortless swig and laid back down. 

“We’re called the marauders.” James explained as he handed you a matching potion. “We’ll have to find you a nickname. Don’t worry though, we have a whole month to come up with one.” 

What the fuck?

[planetaryupscaled]

Steamy Vacation

Male OC x Yeji x Yuna

Tags: 5k, cheating, oral, creampie, threesome

The story is not ours, we alternate the original story to match our desired settings.

“Fuck! Yesss! Keep going!” Hwang Yeji moaned.

“Almost there,” Minho told Yeji as he repeatedly impaled the ravishing idol with his cock.

“Little bit longer…almost there,” she said between breaths. “Do it…at the same time.”

Both of them were naked and having sex in the Jeju apartment bedroom. Minho had his arms on either side of Yeji as he was on top of her doing her in the missionary position. She had one of her legs wrapped around him and as her third orgasm of the afternoon approached, she reached up and grabbed onto his biceps.

“Now, Minho. Now! Annhhhh!,” She let out a loud moan as she came, and watching her o-face and feeling her already incredibly tight pussy clamp on his cock drove him to fill the condom he was wearing with his second load with her that day. He lowered himself to kiss her before rolling off of her. She let out a pleasurable sigh, and then said, “I love vacation sex.”

“You’re happy to be out for a bit, or are you happy to be on vacation from your boyfriend?”

“Watch it,” she said giving him a playful slap. She didn’t like him talking about her boyfriend, especially not while they were both naked together. Minho and Yeji’s boyfriend had never warmed up to one another. Minho wasn’t sure what the deal was between Yeji and her boyfriend.

They had been dating for several years, but that didn’t stop her from hooking up with him after that summer time in Busan, at first, he thought it was supposed to be a one-time thing but one thing led to another, now he just consider himself a lucky guy.

You bet he is.

“Sorry,” he apologized.

“I need to take a shower,” she said, getting out of bed and walking naked to the bathroom.

“Want some help?” he asked as he followed her.

“No, we need to get ready,” she told him.

“We have time,” he said as he plopped the used condom into the trash bin.

“Not really, and we both know what will happen if we get in the shower together.”

“I’m not sure if you can, but I can control myself,” He said confidently, but jokingly. She did not give an audible answer, she rolled her eyes at him and then looked down. She slapped his cock lightly, and his erection bobbed up and down for a moment.

“Alright, fair point,” he conceded, “but you know what we could be doing is better than seeing anything on Lotte.”

“Yeah, sure,” she laughed. “Look, I promised Yuna I’d take Hongsam for a walk before leaving, so you can go do that while I shower. This way I don’t need to worry about you sneaking in with me.”

“So you’re kicking me out?”

“Temporarily,” she answered and lightly pushed him back until he was outside the bathroom. Minho didn’t put up a fight and just redressed. He then went to take Hongsam for a walk. Hongsam was Shin Yuna’s dog. The room he was just having sex with was the guest bedroom of Yuna’s apartment, which they rented while performing here in Jeju.

Minho too was visiting Jeju, but he was there for work and was staying at a hotel room that his employer was paying for. He was happy that his trip lined up with ITZY performing so he could see his friend perform on stage.

Though it appears as though Yeji might have had some other ideas for the trip as well. The two went to lunch together, and then she invited him back to Yuna’s place to hang out before the show. And from there, things quickly progressed into them having two rounds of sex on the guest bed.

After about thirty minutes, Minho took Hongsam back to the apartment and gave him a treat for doing his business. As Yeji got dressed, he took a quick shower to wash the sex scent off himself. Once they were both dressed, they got a quick bite to eat since they were planning on having a very late dinner with Yuna after the show.

Yuna had left them tickets and they were in their seats with five minutes to spare before the curtain opened. ITZY was great on stage, though Minho could not help but notice how good Yuna looked. Dressed in black with her legs exposed in black tights. He was still a little turned on from being with Yeji that afternoon and watching Yuna was not subduing those feelings.

Yeji notices after they’ve finished their performance. She saw how focused Minho was on the stage, and it was after the intermission that she thought she noticed a lump in his pants.

“I can’t believe you had an erection,” she laughed.

“Quiet,” he tried to hush her.

“Was that just from watching us, or were you thinking about something else?”

“Hoping I was thinking about this afternoon?” he quipped while waving at Yuna as she came out the door. She waved back but had to sign some fan autographs and take selfies before she could go with them.

“Want me to stand in front of you? Hide any boners you might get.” Yeji said.

“Is that the reason you want to stand in front of me? In case I get an erection, I’ll have someplace to hide it.”

Her teasing him had somehow morphed into some high-level flirting. As Yuna got closer, bringing more people closer to them, they quit talking. Though even when they went to go have dinner with Yuna, Yeji dropped a number of euphemisms and double-entendres during their meal. She told Yuna that they had Minho’s “full attention” throughout their performance. Minho was not entertained by this, but he did his best not to show it and have Yuna catch on.

After they eat, they all went back to Yuna’s apartment. Yuna went right to her room to change into sweatpants and a t-shirt, and then she took Hongsam outside for a quick walk. Minho thought it was time for him to leave, but Yuna told him to stay and they could hang out for a bit when she got back. Once she was out of the apartment, Minho turned to Yeji and snapped at her “What the hell was all that?”

“All what?” she played coy,

“All that stuff at dinner. All the erection innuendos.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Minho paused and thought a moment. “You know, I thought you were just making fun of me, but now I’m thinking that you’re jealous that I might have gotten hard looking at Yuna.”

“There was no might about it,” she snidely replied.

“See I knew it.”

“Look, Minho, I’m sorry you had a HARD time at dinner, but you’re crazy if you think I was jealous of anything.”

“I’ll show you a hard time,” Minho snapped back and lowered the fly on his jeans. Yeji excitedly bit her lip as she saw him reaching into his pants…

When Yuna got back to her apartment, she heard some strange sounds and noticed that neither of her friends were anywhere in sight. She took off Hongsam’s leash and gave him a treat before she went to investigate. She followed the sound to the hallway and before she rounded the corner she heard a loud moan from a woman. Turning the corner, she found her friends in the hall.

“What’s going on here!” Yuna exclaimed. “I can’t believe you two.” Of course, it was extremely obvious what was happening. Yeji was braced against the wall in the hallway with her pants down just above her knees, and Minho was right behind her with his pants below his ass, and his cock pumping in and out of Yeji.

“Oh God, this isn’t…ummm…” Yeji tried to think of something to say.

“This is exactly what it looks like,” Minho said and then withdrew his cock. Exposing his condom-wrapped hard cock to Yuna, with it glistening in the hallway light from her friend’s pussy juices.

“Wow, she was pretty wet, huh?” Yuna said as she looked at his cock and took a few steps forward.

“Yeah, she is,” he agreed.

“Let me ask, are you hard because of her, or because you are still thinking about me on stage?” Yuna asked, and Yeji laughed. Minho’s head quickly snapped and looked at Yeji.

“You told her? When?” He wanted to know.

“I texted her about it as soon as the show was over.”

“So the whole time you were making subtle jokes during dinner?” he asked Yeji.

“I knew what she was doing,” Yuna answered.

“Don’t worry, I found it flattering.”

Yuna then grabbed hold of his cock. “Maybe we should take this to the bedroom,” she suggested.

The three of them quickly moved into the guest room.

Yuna had Minho sit on the edge of the bed and she dropped down to her knees. She yanked off the condom and began sucking his cock. While Yuna hungrily sucked his dick, Yeji stood nearby and began stripping out of her clothes. Once naked she got onto the bed with him. She and Minho began kissing, and he reached out and began fingering her. Yeji moaned into his mouth when she felt him slide a second finger into her. Yeji eventually reached down for his cock that Yuna was still sucking on. Yeji’s hand replaced Yuna’s on his shaft and she began stroking him while Yuna’s lips and tongue focused on the tip. Eventually, it was all too much for Minho. He could no longer even concentrate on trying to kiss Yeji, he was just lost in the feeling of pleasure he was getting on his dick.

“So how is she?” Yeji asked.

“Soooo good.”

“Is she better at it than me?”

“No chance I am answering that,” he said smartly.

“And you really don’t want to play that game,” Yuna teased Yeji before going back to giving him a blow job.

“Well, you do look good with a dick in your mouth,” Yeji teased her back. Yuna responded by flipping her off.

“She is right, you do,” he told her honestly.

“Yuna, I’m going to…”

“Then do it already,” she told him. Like with Yeji, Minho and Yuna had hooked up dozens of times after that summer in Busan. Also, just like Yeji, Yuna was currently dating a guy that Minho disliked. While Minho never got along well with Yeji’s boyfriend, it was Yuna’s that he really didn’t much care for. He could not understand how they ever got together or why they are still together.

Normally he could feel Yuna swallowing as he came into her mouth, this time he could not. He found out the reason for that after he finished cumming. Yuna dragged her lips off his cock with a pop before opening her lips to show him all the jizz she’d collected in her mouth. Yuna then got up off the floor and moved to Yeji. She grabbed her by the back of her head and pulled her in for a kiss. Minho watched as the two pretty idol kissed, and saw Yuna push some of his cum from her mouth to Yeji’s, with some trickled down the sides of both of their lips as they kissed and snowballed his cum.

Even after they had swallowed all of the cum, they continued to kiss. Yuna was the aggressor, and Yeji fell backward to the point that Yeji fell backward.

Yuna did not allow Yeji to escape and crawled onto the bed, so her knees were right on the edge with her feet hanging off of it, and her hand propped her up as she leaned over Her teammate before bending back down to kiss her some more.

Minho, just like any other guy in his position, could not help but get aroused by the sight next to him. If his dick deflated at all after the blow job, it was now back to full mass. He took off his shirt and kicked off his pants and boxers, which had pooled around his ankles as Yuna began to suck his cock again.

With Minho and Yeji now naked, there was only one person in the room who was still wearing clothes. Yuna except for having no shoes, was still dressed as she was when she took her dog out for a walk. That did not last long. Minho got off the bed, positioned himself behind Yuna and yanked down her sweatpants. She had a pair of white panties that were soaking. He could clearly see how wet they were.

He put his hands on Yuna’s ass and bent down to look at her flawless backside. Her smooth-shaven pussy was literally dripping wet as he ran his tongue along her slit, licking up all her excess juices. Yuna sat up and moaned as she felt his tongue. She then turned around to face him when she felt his tongue pull away.

“Don’t tease me…” she pleaded.

“Trust me, I’m not,” he told her and then slid his hard cock inside of her. She was so wet that despite being crazy tight, he had no issue sliding his dick into her. Yuna moaned and smiled back at Minho, who began to fuck her from behind.

“God I missed this,” he told her. “You feel so good… so tight.”

“Nnhhh yesss,” she said with pride about how tight she was.

“Ahhh, I’ve missed this too,” Yuna told him as he slowly began working his dick in and out of her.

Despite Yuna laying on top of her, Yeji was feeling left out of the action. She reached up and gave Yuna’s hard brown reddish nipples a tweak. Yuna let out a bit of a yelp when she felt her nipples suddenly being played with.

“Oh, oh, wow, already, ugghhh,” Yuna moaned. It had only been a few minutes, but Yuna was so aroused even before Minho had his cock in her that it didn’t take long for her to reach the point of near orgasm. She grunted as her pussy gushed as she came, dripping down onto the bed she soaked the bedsheets beneath her. Minho pulled out of her and Yuna rolled over onto her back.

“That was a good one,” she said, sounding satisfied.

“You know, I was on the verge of something close to that before you interrupted us earlier,” Yeji said, reminding the other two that she two was still on the bed.

“I can help you out with that,” Minho replied.

“You, better,” she told him. She had him lie down on the bed and was quick to get on top of him. She was quick to sink down on his dick and began riding him. While she was on top of him, Yuna slid next to him.

“Doesn’t she have the cutest nipples,” Yuna whispered to Minho as she watched her friend methodically grind on her snatch on top of him.

“Yeah, she does,” he agreed, as he reached up and cupped her tit and ran his thumb back and forth over her small nipple. Yeji moaned as she felt her tits being played with. Minho groaned as Yuna kissed the side of his neck. Having one idol ride him while the other kissed and rubbed his chest made him even more excited. He then grabbed Yeji’s hips and started thrusting his cock up into her. Yeji’s moans were getting louder as he fucked her hard and fast. After a few minutes, he flipped her over. Once again Yeji was on her back with Minho between her legs. She raised her legs and spread them wide as he pushed back into her. Just like the afternoon, Minho and Yeji were doing it missionary. However this time, Yuna was right there with them.

After stripping off her shirt and removing her pants completely, Yuna went back and forth kissing both of them. Now with Yeji on her back, Yuna’s hands roamed over her friend’s chest, playing with her tits. Looking over at Yuna, Minho could not help himself from reaching over and pushing two fingers into her tight cunt. He fingered her for a minute before pulling his fingers out and sucking them clean. Minho remembers the first time he ever went down on Yuna, and he couldn’t believe how good she tasted and still tastes just as good now as she did then. He then pushed his fingers right back into her, which caused Yuna to moan right into Yeji’s mouth as they made out.

After several more minutes, Yeji got the orgasm she desired, but Minho still continued to pound her pussy. He thought about pulling out and driving back into Yuna, but she whispered something in his ear that made him change his mind.

“Are you close,” Yuna asked between neck kisses she was giving Minho.

“Kind of,” he grunted.

Yuna then moved right up beside his ear, “Cum in her,” she whispered, giving him a devilish smile. Unlike Yuna, Yeji almost always made Minho use a condom when they hooked up. He was so caught up in the moment that when he switched between the two women, he didn’t think about a condom. Now that he had noticed it, he was becoming increasingly aware of how her pussy felt around his cock. He then began fucking her faster, harder.

“Ohh ahnn, fuck!” Yeji called out in response to him taking things up a notch.

“That’s it, Minho,” Yuna encouraged. “Fuck her good, and fill her.”

“Fill me?” Yeji asked. “Wait, condom.” You’re not wearing a condom?

“No,” He informed her.

“Ahh…shit…” she said.

“Just let it happen. You know you want it,” Yuna advised Yeji. She thought for a moment, as Minho continued to rail her.

“Fuck it…” she gave in.

“Slut,” Yuna giggled at her.

Minho’s response was to grab Yeji’s legs from out on the side and move her legs up over her head. He continued fucking her hard as he had her folded in half.

Yuna repositioned herself behind Minho as she watched her friends fuck. She encouraged him.

“Stop holding back and do it, she wants it, breed her.”

He could feel her tits pressing into his back, her hands moving around his body, and her lips working on his neck and shoulder between whispering into his ear.

He looked down at Yeji’s face as he thrust into her. He could feel the build-up rising in his balls, and the look on her face said that she was closing in on another orgasm as well.

“I- I’m gonna cum,” he announced, giving Yeji one last chance to back out. She just gave him a simple acknowledgment nod as she moaned. He gave three more pumps before burying his cock deep inside her.

“Oh god, Minho,” Yeji moaned as she felt the steady stream of cum filling her unprotected womb.

When he did finally stop and did pull out, Yuna was right there to polish his dick clean of the mix of his and Yeji’s cum. Though Yuna did have ulterior motives as well. Even after she had given his cock a spit shine, she still kept blowing him for a bit longer, not giving his dick any chance to go down at all. Once she felt his cock twitching in her mouth, she knew he was ready to go.

She had Yeji move up on the bed and then she laid down herself between Yeji’s legs. Yuna then went to town on her friend’s well fucked pussy, freshly full and leaking with cum.

Yuna then lay on her stomach in front of him. He knew she loved to do it prone, and he had an open opportunity to do that, but he was going to put that on hold for a minute. He had already creampied Hwang Yeji; there was no way he was not going to do it to Shin Yuna as well, but first, he was going to eat that pussy.

Minho got down low and spread Yuna's legs. Feeling him move her, she gave up little resistance and allowed him to move her body as he pleased. With her legs now open, he then spread Yuna's ass with his hands, allowing him deep into her while burying his tongue.

For the next several minutes, the three of them were laying in a straight line. Minho laying on his stomach eating Yuna out, who was laying on her stomach eating out Yeji, who was on her back. Yeji was the first to cum, as she cried out while grabbing onto the bedding which between sweat and cum was becoming wetter and wetter.

Before Yuna could have one of her own, Minho pulled away from her. She let out a disappointing groan. That groan was soon replaced by a sudden squeal from the petite idol as she felt Minho wedge his cock into her cunt. Yuna was still eating her friend even after Yeji orgasmed, However, she soon became too distracted to continue. She almost had an orgasm from his tongue as he took her prone on the bed.

“Yes, Minho, keep going,” Yuna moaned.

She was now holding onto the bed tightly. She was so close that she began rocking her body back into him. It was only a matter of time, Minho could feel the buildup happening, and then suddenly she popped. Yuna cried out and once again she drenched the bed below her as her body twitched in orgasm bliss. Minho pulled out as soon as he felt her cumming. God knows he loved that feeling from her, but he loved it a little too much and was not ready to be done with her.

While Yuna was cumming, and then coming down from her high, Yeji moved in and she repeated what Yuna had done and sucked his cock clean of the other’s juiced. Once she had sucked him clean, both Minho and Yuna were ready to take things to the next step.

Neither were usually much for reverse cowgirl, but there was a full-length mirror across from the bed and on the far wall. He sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled Yuna on top of him. She sat right on his cock and began to bounce on it. The two of them are looking at each other in the mirror. She has a bright smile on her face and her perky tits are shaking as she bounces up and down on his dick. For the first two minutes or so, Minho is just happy to observe Yuna. Putting aside the sensation of her tight pussy gripping his dick as it moved up and down the shaft, seeing a naked Yuna bouncing like this made him feel extremely lucky.

Eventually, he did get into the action, brushing her hair over to one side, and then moving his hands around her body. One hand when north to cup her breast and the other traveled south between her legs. As she had done to, him, he began kissing the side of her neck as he rubbed her clit and tweaked her nipple.

“You know this was what I was thinking about when you were on stage, right?” he said into her ear. “As good as you looked on stage, I couldn't stop thinking about your sexy body and how you'd look doing all that without anything on.”

“That’s why you got hard?”

“Um-hm,” he said as he kissed her neck. “And then my mind went to how much missed the feeling of cumming inside your tight pussy.”

“Maybe you should stop thinking about it and do it already,”

“You want that?” He asked her.

“You know I do,” she moaned. Minho had her spin around. She was now sitting on his lap, facing him, with her legs wrapped around his back. With their faces just inches apart now, they began making out as they fucked. Yuna rolled her hips while on top of him. He did not give her any warning before cumming. He just moaned into her mouth as they kissed and let it go. Exploding his load into her. When she felt him cumming, she moaned right back to him and her nails dug into his shoulder. Even as he was cumming she continued to move her hips until she got off once again as well. After they finished, they moved back and laid on the bed next to Yeji, who had been fingering herself while watching her friends fuck .

The three of them all lay in a pile in the guest bed for a few minutes, catching their breaths and coming down from the sexual high. Yuna suggested that if they were going to go to sleep, they should all go to her bedroom. She didn’t say why, but they all knew the why. Between sweat, cum, and vaginal fluids, the sheets on the guest bed were at a minimum moist, and in spots were just flat-out soaked. So they got out of the guest bed and headed to the master bedroom, but before getting back into bed it was suggested that they should all take a quick shower first.

While they washed the sex off of each other, there was a significant amount of bumping, grinding, and touching as they shared the shower. Some of it was unintentional, some of it not so much. The bumping increased as Minho’s shaft swelled to its full size. Yeji and Yuna enjoyed teasing him.

Although the teasing from the two pretty idols was becoming a little too much for him. He finally snapped when Yeji dropped the loofa and bent down with her straight legs and her ass pointed right at him as she went to pick it up. He couldn’t help himself and quickly moved right up behind her and thrust half his cock into her.

“Ahh! Fuck!” Yeji yelped in surprise.

“Tell me to stop, and I will,” he told her as he pushed the rest of his cock inside of her. She said nothing, so he began fucking her. Yeji raised back up a bit and put her arms out to brace herself against the shower wall. Yuna was not going to be left out of the action. She moved to the side of both Yeji and Minho. With one hand she pulled his face down to kiss her, and with her other hand, she moved it between Yeji’s legs and teased her clit.

“Oh god, seriously Yuna?” Yeji moaned and questioned her friend as she felt her love button being played with. Not to leave her out, Minho moved a hand between Yuna’s legs and fingered her while the two of them made out as he fucked Yeji. With the two of them working on her, Yeji did not last long. She let out a moan and her leg buckled as she came. Minho grabbed her around her waist to make sure she did not fall.

Once she was steady on her feet, Minho pulled out of her and turned to Yuna. She then wrapped her arms around his neck and leapt up. Minho grabbed her body and quickly had his cock completely embedded in her. As they fucked, Yeji gave herself another long rinse under the shower spray before leaving the stall.

“You two have fun,” she said then gave him a long loving kiss. “Thanks for today,” she told him before stepping out of the shower and wrapping herself in a towel.

Meanwhile, Yuna and Minho were lost in their own lust-filled world, aggressively fucking against the glass of the shower stall. Yuna had her back against the glass with hands holding onto the top of the shower above, and her legs over his shoulder. The two were going at it, until Minho tried to readjust his stance and almost slipped on the shower floor, nearly bringing them both tumbling to the floor.

After that, they briefly stopped what they were doing, turned off the water, and exited the shower. They did not move far as they set up right on the large bathroom countertop. Yuna stood in front of the counter and bent down at the waist, pushing her ass back against him. He quickly got behind her and lifted her leg onto the counter before sliding his manhood straight back into pristine her pussy. As they fucking on the counter they maintained eye contact nearly the entire time through the mirror.

“God, Yuna. You feel so fucking tight” he groaned.

“Ehm-mm, anhhh, fuck…”

“I can't hold out for much longer.”

“Cum inside me...pleaseee, Anhhh…”

“Turn around!” he said.

Yuna had barely gotten her foot on the floor when Minho grabbed her hips, spun her around, and lifted her onto the counter. He quickly inserted his cock back into her. After two more pumps, Yuna expressed her desire for him to unload inside of her.

“Now Minho, do it now!” She demanded him and his cock busted, and that feeling got Yuna to hit her climax as well. They both came hard. He moved in to kiss her, and they exchanged a series of kisses, as euphoria from their orgasms died down. They cleaned up a bit and went into the bedroom and saw Yeji sleeping in the bed. Minho had to work the next morning and debated heading to his hotel at that point in the night.

Yuna asked him to stay and when he was still on the fence, she promised him a morning blowjob before he left. That made his decision an easy one. He set his alarm for a few hours and got into bed with his two idols friends. Yuna slept on her side in the middle of the bed facing Yeji, while Minho slept on the other side spooning Yuna.

Yuna kept her word and gave him a blowjob when his alarm went off the following morning. Minho got a great start to the day before heading to his hotel room for a quick shower and change of clothes before heading out to work.

—

Yuna called him later that night.

“Hey, do you mind coming over on Friday and taking Hongsam for a walk after you’re done with work? I can leave a key for you at the front desk.”

“On Friday? Yuna you know that’s my last night here. I was planning on going out with people after work.”

“I know, but I thought you could help me out and then we can do something after the show.”

“So you want me to take your dog out and then just hang out at your place alone for a few hours?”

“Yes, but I would put it as more as, I was hoping you’d be waiting in my bed… preferably with your pants on the floor.”

[brainmuncher]

Danny would like to preface that this was entirely Vlad's fault. The fruitloop had made another harebrained scheme to kill off his dad and marry his mom… nothing new. What also wasn’t new was the three vultures in fez hats that he had to chase across the Nasty Burger’s parking lot after dismantling the whole plan. Vlad was a fruitloop after all so it only made sense that he’d do the same thing over and over and actually expect a different result.

What was new was the gun that Vlad had appeared with during the chase. He looked pissed that Danny had gotten away again and wasn’t aiming well. Unfortunately, Danny had Fenton luck so he eventually got hit by whatever the gun was firing. One of the vultures also got stuck in one of the stray blasts so he didn’t feel too bad about it.

It turns out it was shooting some sticky substance that was impossible to phase through. Vlad had walked over, said some eye roll worthy monologue, and cut the stuck vulture out with a concentrated ecto blast. He’d just been about to probably kidnap Danny for the millionth time when there was a screech of a van. A dozen or so GIW agents flooded the area and Vlad with the vultures made a run for it… leaving Danny behind. Because of the mysterious goo still holding him in place, he was an easy target for the GIW to “arrest”.

That's how he found himself thrown in the back of a white van in what could only be described as a dog cage, bundled with all sorts of restraints. His arms were pulled behind his back, his legs tied together, an actual muzzle on his face, and an extremely uncomfortable collar was on his neck. To put it lightly, Danny was not amused.

Before the doors had shut he heard the agents talking about transporting him to one of their facilities. Based on how much driving they had already done, it wasn’t a local one. Thankfully, Tucker and Sam have his ecto-signature, so they should be able to find him. It was just a matter of them getting a quick enough transport. They might end up calling Jazz to help which will be a huge pain later. No, he did not feel traumatized Jazz, this was more of an unfortunate field trip with the GIW than anything. Then again she was probably going to complain that he wasn’t taking things seriously again if he said that.

While thinking of ways he was going to try and escape his sister's overprotective meddling, the van came to a screeching halt. The stop was so sudden that he hit his head on the back of the cage. Grimacing at the injury, that was honestly pretty mild but he was feeling petty, he tried to listen to why they’d stopped. He could faintly hear the sounds of fighting outside the van. At first, he thought that he’d been found quicker than he thought, but then he heard the first gunshot.

An actual gunshot.

Now Danny knew that he wasn’t in Amity anymore, that point had long since passed, but hearing that was like a bucket of ice water. He’d only heard guns on TV or from those soldier guys at the parade before everything got replaced with ecto-guns. But something about hearing one again after so many years reminded him that he wasn’t home anymore. He didn’t even know where he was.

Despite having already tried to escape when they first put the restraints on, Danny once again began struggling to get out. The best start would be freeing his hands so he could at least see if he could find a weak point. He started to try and get his hands out in front of his chest but quickly found that it was easier said than done. Because of the way his hands were encapsulated in the cuffs and only ended at the lower wrist, he was finding it very hard to stretch far enough to get his arms underneath him. His shoulders ached as he pushed them past their limit, but another set of gunshots gave him the boost he needed to ignore it. Finally, he got his arms out from underneath him.

Before he could even think to celebrate, the doors to the van opened up. He reflexively used his arms to block the light from the outside. Once he blinked away the blinding change of light, he found himself blinking at a completely baffled person in a black ski mask.

“Johnny?” The person called out, turning away from Danny to presumably talk to someone outside the door. “I thought you said this was a truck full of money. There’s just some kid back here!”

Despite the danger he was in, Danny couldn’t help the indignation rise in him at being called a kid. He was sixteen for Pete's sake! He was firmly past the ‘kid’ stage and now in the ‘little shit’ age of his life. There’s a clear difference.

“What the hell are you talking about? This thing was scheduled to be guarded and transported just like any ol’ money transport. If you’re fucking with me-” The second person, who was wearing a blue ski mask, and man Danny didn’t know that they came in different colors how neat, paused after seeing him. “What the hell is this.”

Both of the men were just staring at Danny, who was now questioning just what was happening.

“You don’t think Flash set this up do you?” The one in the black mask asked, making the other one whirl to look at him like he asked if the moon was made of cheese.

“This is Keystone, not Gotham. Flash wouldn’t even consider something like this. This is something else entirely,” The person in the blue mask sighed, giving a sidelong look at Danny. “I say we bounce before Flash gets here. This one is a bust.”

The one in the black mask stopped the other one before they could get too far. Looking over their shoulder at Danny they gestured in his direction.

“Did you see how many guys they had guarding him? I think we could still make a good penny selling him,”

An uncomfortable feeling crawled up Danny’s spine. It was one that Vlad often made him feel when he was trying to get him to ‘denounce his father’. Objectified, Sam had once complained. She described that it was something she often felt whenever her parents forced her into some pink monstrosity. This somehow felt much more dangerous than when Vlad did it. Maybe it was the fact that Danny didn’t know what would happen, unlike with Vlad. Completely separated from his usual support and without a clue of what would happen, the threat loomed more fiercely than Danny was used to.

He started to subtly check the bands restricting his hands. There wasn’t any keyhole are keypad to open them, which meant there was probably a remote that one of the agents has… or had if they had been killed.

Suddenly one of the guys let out a startled cry that cut off. The other one disappeared, only for something to hit the truck a moment later.

“You’d think after taking over a van they wouldn’t just stand around in the street. It’s like they wanted to get caught,” A completely new voice joked.

With both guys gone, Danny could now clearly see the outside world. It was late, almost sunset outside. The buildings were completely unrecognizable. There were even some really tall buildings further in. He was in an actual city… Keystone if he remembers right.

“Let’s see what you were after,” The voice continues and steps in front of the open doors.

If not for the muzzle, Danny’s jaw would’ve dropped. This GIW field trip was turning into one hell of a time.

“Whoa hey, are you alright?” The Flash asked, already climbing inside the van to help.

At this point, this mind as well happen.

[cherry-pop-elf]

Cup Of Sugar

Deadpool x Reader x Wolverine

Authors Note: Since Yall finally see the beauty of Poolverine, you finally get some stupid fluff. Here ya go

Sum: You were neighbors with Blind Al, and that chaotic son of hers. Recently you’ve been hearing alot of noise, and figured you check on them both. Like a good neighbor. Seems to have been just the right time

Warnings: Fluff, canon typical violence, Logan and Wade being so gay in their own way, Blind Al being a total wing woman, dogpool aprecitation post, family fluff because god dammit Mama Blind Al and her sons boyfriend with their new dog domestic fluff is needed!

“Will you two knock it off! I don’t need another damn couch in this house-!” You would hear Al shout. Not the first time, but the noise seemed so much more wild as of recent. Like some kind of badger was joining the party. Couldn’t help it with your worry. She was blind after all. So, here you are. Knocking on her door.

“Get along-! Well, or like STOP GETTING ALONG-!” You heard her snapping, before yanking the door open. “The hell you want?” She asked, before you would clear your throat.

“Hey Miss Althea-!” The moment she heard your voice she had softened into that motherly state she always had for you. Not many people in the complex really enjoyed her company, or her son’s, but you always took the time to say hi to her. Not treat her any less inferior because of her blindness.

“Oh hey baby! Come on in, get in here-!” She just beamed, and laughed. Happy to have someone new to talk to. Can get lonely, after all. From many of your conversations with her, when helping her take the groceries to her apartment, her son Wade was often on business trips. Nice to have some company.

Inside was certainly a chaotic mess. You swore someone ran around like a Tasmanian Devil in there. Pictures asque, cushions everywhere, a couch shredded like it was thrown in a blender. You were wondering what the hell happened. Was it a break in? Had you worried sick, before a bark caught your attention.

“PUPPY-!” You couldn’t stop yourself from squealing, as you knelt to the floor. Right next to the dog in her dog bed. All snuggled with plushies of what you guessed were her favorite heros, and seeming to be the one area of the apartment that escaped this fire. Least whoever attacked the home had some kind of morals.

“That ugly thing? That’s ’Mary Puppins’ as the dynamic duo calls them. She that ugly kinda cute. She always knows when you need someone to cuddle, that’s for sure. I ain’t complaining. Nice having company.” Al would explain to you, as you were hypnotized by her cuteness. Had her cradled in your arms, and giving her all the belly scratches.

“She’s perfect.” You cooed, as you gave her fluffy head a kiss. Had her barking happily at your attention. Seemed said barking finally got the attention of the two rascals in the home. A bickering of panic French was held, before you turned your head. As to see what the French was going on.

“Hey-“ A burly man would wave, before seeming to shove the other person into a bedroom. In some kind of mad panic, as if to hide them from you. For some reason.

“Oh, hey. Uh, hi.” You would stand up, Pup in hand, as you registered what you were looking at. He wasn’t the tallest man around, and honestly? Might be even shorter than yourself. Didn’t take away the fact he was built like a truck. Somehow all tucked away behind a torn up wife beater and jeans. Looked like he had been fighting someone with a set of knives. On top of knives. With more knives.

“That’s Logan. My kids new boyfriend.” Al would brush off casually, as she would find herself towards the couch. Just to sit there, and most definitely keep an ear out for the drama to happen now.

“We aren’t….It’s complicated-“ He tried to explain, before said Wade popped his cheery ass out. Having been in such a rush to join the party, he was wearing his shirt backwards. You would argue his boxers to, but a puppy keeps anyone’s attention.

“Oh hey! Peanut, that’s our neighbor. About time you met the sweetheart. Don’t do anything Logany. Or do, kinda a freak. Just saying-“ He would nudge at the shorter man, as said man rolled his eyes.

“Hey Wade-! When did you get this little girl? And uh, the hell happened here?” You were pretty used to Wades insanity at this point, hence why he called you a freak (in that sweet way endearing way) so maybe there was an explanation on all this.

“Thats Mary Puppens. The sweetest shit stain around. We got her from uh….A cousin. Passed away. Terrible terrible. Can’t have her left alone.” Wade would explain, as Logan would walk over. Gave the pup a gentle scratch under her chin that made her shake her leg just right. She clearly loved her new parents dearly.

“And the mess here?” You would raise a brow, before Wade tugged at his collar. That’s when he noticed it was backwards, and kept himself busy with fixing it. Left Logan to have to bite the bullet.

“….Redecorating…..” Logan offered, as you just stared at the two. A brow raised, as you didn’t buy it for a single second. You weren’t stupid. You weren’t going to fall for the ‘put on a hat and jacket and suddenly you can’t make out a superhero from a crowd’ trope. Something suspicious was going on.

“Just be direct, will ya?! If anyone can be trusted it’s gonna be that there sugar.” Al would practically scold the two little dumbasses. Just like a mother would to her so , and his boyfriend, who were trying to dance around a topic.

“Are you two super humans of some kind? You don’t have to tell me more. Just….Dont wanna worry about little Pup here and Al. Ya know?” That seemed to make Logan pause. As if your kindness, and realness, was a shock to have. A welcomed one, but you’ll still get caught off guard if you ate trash and suddenly had a pallet cleanser of lime sherbet shoved in your mouth.

“Do you mean super human as super human, or super human like mutant powers, or super human like experimented on, or super human like as a-“ And Logan promptly smacked the back of Wades head. Treating him like a skipping record. Had you giggle, since now you didn’t have to worry about the violence. Able to comprehend they just don’t feel pain like others.

“Super human is all that needs to be said, bub.” Logan warned him, as he held up his fist. You thought to punch, but you swore the top of his hand was twitching. Not like a muscle spasm. Way too uniformed. As if three veins were bulging. Maybe it was better not to question it.

“Now, why are you even here?” Logan would try his blunt coldness on you, but living next to the likes of Wade doesn’t really phase you. This was a world of super heros and inhumans. Can’t scare you that easy.

“Came to check on Miss Althea. Heard a ruckus, that was louder than normal, so I came to check.” That had Logan scoff. To hear you being so ‘brave’ and coming over to the source of the noise. A admiring ‘so dumb but in a brave way’ admiring.

“He’s still grumpy from the turbulence, if you will-“ Wade would jazz hands, as if knowing things that no one else shouldn’t. He always did act like that. As if he just knew how the world worked better than others. You found it more so endearing than creepy, like others did.

“Oh! New here? Well welcome! Oh, maybe I can show you around? Wade and I know some pretty cool places. Oh! There’s a dog park that’s built for dogs who need more special care than others. We can all go there with Miss Puppins!” You were rambling like Wade, but had the clarity of Logan. A beautiful combination. One that had the two men smitten.

“Fuck yeah we can go to the dog park. Get dressed, Showman, come on-!” And Wade was running off to get changed. The typical attire of hoodie, face mask, glasses. Just layering. You didn’t find his skin disgusting, but given the world’s issues with pandemic it can’t be helped.

“Great, now you got him started again-“ Logan would complain, yet was already grabbing his leather jacket. Complaining, yet clearly willingly excited all the same. Just in his own way.

“Would you like to join us, Miss Althea?” You asked her, which gave her a bit of a surprise. You wanted her to come along? She normally never tagged along on things like this. Yet, you offered. Even though most times she would say no. Not this time.

“Someone needs to make sure you assholes don’t get into more shit.” She smarted off, but was already standing. With the help of Logan, of course. Just in time for Wade to return.

“Come on disabled gang! Let’s go!” He would clap, as Logan just kept rolling his eyes. You yourself were excited, and leading the charge now. All with Miss Puppins happy in your arms. So happy to have a big family to take her on adventures.

Nothing more sweet than a happy pup.

[syrupfog]

Maybe in another world the poison Sanji’s mum took didn’t work on Sanji, or at least not in the same way. 

A child with black hair and dull eyes, and like his brothers he’s made to be a solider who follows orders. 

The difference is that he follows his mum’s instead of Judge’s. 

She’s distraught that the poison wasn’t enough, but she raises Sanji as best she can to be someone free, even if he can’t really be. 

He learns to cook because she asks him to (she wonders if she’s fooling herself when she sees just a glimmer of excitement in his dull eyes).

He guards her like a dog as she grows sick, this six year old who can’t even see over the counters. But he’s strong and can fight and all he knows is that what his mum says is what he does. 

And when she’s dying, she tells him to run. Says whatever happens, get away from Judge.

And when she dies, that’s what he does. Because he’s an emotionless machine, but he’s following her orders. She told him to be free from Germa, and to seek friends. He doesn’t understand the second part (“friends are a weakness” Judge had said) so he ignores it, but he goes.

He finds the Orbit at age seven and he already has cooking skills (and he’s super powered— he’s good at what he does). They’re creeped out by him, most of the cooks just try to ignore him or slink around him, this terrifying little kid who can dice hundreds of onions in an hour.

He doesn’t interact with them either— his mum said to be free, and he assumes this is “free”. He assumes these aren’t “friends”, at least they’re not like in the books she read him. No one has fought for him or offered to share their things with him, so these must not be them.

And then, of course, the Orbit is hit by pirates, and then hits a storm. Sanji ends up stranded with Zeff on that cliff. Why’d Zeff save him? Maybe it was the way he stood emotionless in front of him with those dead eyes. Said he had to get back to cooking like nothing mattered.

Maybe it was the way everyone else looked at him like they were scared of him, this little ten year old unaware of his effect. 

Maybe it was the almost imperceptible way he flinched when another cook came near him, like he was waiting for the next attack. 

It doesn’t matter now.

What matters is that Sanji’s on the island with Zeff and they’re starving, but Zeff gives him food. Zeff loses his leg for Sanji. These things are adding up, Sanji thinks this might be what his mum wanted him to find. 

He’s not sure. 

Uncertainty doesn’t fit well with him.

But his mum said to find a friend and Zeff fits what he knows, so he devotes himself like a soldier. When they get off the island, Zeff can’t get rid of him no matter what he tries (he doesn’t try too hard). 

They get a restaurant. 

Sanji works like a machine in the kitchens.

Zeff puts him on food prep for years and Sanji does it without complaint. No one is as good as him at finely dicing, at weighing and measuring to the letter. He even does the dishes when they’re behind, and only breaks one before he figures out not to grip with all his strength.

Zeff makes him a full fledged chef at fifteen. 

He always feels a little… conflicted about making Sanji work. The boy doesn’t have friends and doesn’t seem to desire them. He doesn’t have emotions. It feels wrong to make him work when he doesn't have the fight to object.

But Sanji’s his responsibility for some reason, and he’s accepted that. 

And once, just once, when Sanji is seventeen, Judge comes down in the middle of the night to find a full five course meal prepared. It’s nothing the Baratie makes. It smells of unfamiliar lands.

He doesn’t mention it to Sanji, and there’s no trace of it the next day. 

He wonders, though. 

When Sanji is nineteen, Luffy arrives with a cannonball through the wall. 

Zeff’s not too happy about that, but Sanji’s on red alert. He goes after Luffy with a vengeance.

Because that’s ZEFF, and if Sanji knows one thing it’s that he has to PROTECT ZEFF. 

Luffy’s enamoured with him immediately. He wants Sanji. He wants this man who cooks and fights with his feet (Zeff taught him that, Sanji added it to the rules— no hands, be free, find friends).

Sanji’s dull eyes barely blink as he tells Luffy no, that he’s here for Zeff. 

But then Luffy says the magic words. 

He introduces Sanji (who stopped fighting at Zeff’s directive) to his crew and says, “this is my new friend Sanji! He’s going to be our cook!”

It’s confusing in a way few things are. Sanji lives in black and white— but Luffy says they’re *friends*. His mum told him to find friends. But he can’t leave Zeff, who is also a friend. 

Sanji stumbles a little. 

And then the green haired swordsman mocks him for it. The smallest flame of anger lights in his belly, a single momentary spark. 

But that doesn’t matter because right now in this moment Sanji is processing having TWO friends. 

That processing comes to a halt when Zeff yells at him to leave. 

It’s simple again. 

He follows orders.

He joins the Straw Hats. 

He cooks. 

He fights. 

Luffy talks all the time about being free, and Sanji doesn’t get it but he figures Luffy will tell him when they manage to become “the most free”, something he has no metric of.

Also, Zoro is there. 

Zoro is a complication. Sanji’s not sure if he’s friends with everyone or just with Luffy. He THINKS it’s everyone. He doesn’t like living in greys. 

And Zoro likes to fight. 

He tries to rile Sanji up, every time. Makes comments about his food or eyebrows.

Sometimes it… well it doesn’t *work* but it makes that little spark hit deep inside of him again, and for a split second the world is brighter. And then it’s gone. 

Then Zoro pulls out his swords, which means they’re sparring, and Sanji is good at sparring.

They add more crew members. They go from island to island. Sanji protects his friends because that’s what he’s supposed to do, and he cooks, because he’s supposed to. 

And then some time around Water 7 he starts to dream. 

He’s never dreamed before.

He dreams of his mum and her warm smile. He dreams of his sister and her complicated expressions that he could never understand. 

He dreams of Zoro and the grin that stretches over his face and the way his earrings dance. 

He doesn’t get it. There’s no point to dreams.

What does it, what finally lights the spark inside of him, is Thriller Bark. It’s “nothing happened”. Zoro pushes him out of the way, stops him from doing the one thing he’s MADE to do, and then Sanji wakes up and realises what’s happened. 

And a whirlwind alights inside of him.

The world has colors and depth it didn’t before, as he’s flooded with ANGER, that Zoro would do that, WORRY, that Zoro won’t make it, PAIN and HEARTBREAK for his mum, and a new sort of loyalty, deep and unending, for his crew. 

He watches Zoro sleep as he processes.

And when Zoro finally wakes, when that worry abates a little, he YELLS at him. SCREAMS that he was a SELFISH ASSHOLE and HOW DARE HE and he’s IMPORTANT. 

And through it all, Zoro stares at him, wide eyed and probably high on pain meds.

And then, when Sanji finally exhausts himself, Zoro grins. That same grin from Sanji’s dreams, and he says, “I knew you’d make it.” 

Which is DUMB and makes Sanji EVEN MORE MAD because what does that fucking MEAN and he YELLS SOME MORE and by that time all the Straw Hats have gathered in shock outside the infirmary door. 

“Welcome to the crew, Curls,” Zoro says and Sanji wants to KICK HIM but he’s on death’s door already and Sanji knows how strong he is. 

So instead he collapses onto him and weeps, his emotions a confusing mess inside of him.

And eventually the door creaks open and Chopper slips in because he HAS to check Zoro’s vitals and then Luffy BOUNDS in and wraps his arms around Sanji and says “SANJI, MAKE ME MEAT” and Sanji SNAPS that he’s BUSY and Luffy LAUGHS and says “Okay but AFTER YOU’RE BUSY, MEAT.”

And later that night, after he’s made a MISTAKE in the kitchen because he got EMOTIONAL chopping vegetables, he sits in the infirmary again, forcing Zoro to drink broth. And he says, “I don’t know what happened. It’s like there’s too much of me inside me now.”

And Zoro says yeah. “That’s what living feels like,” he says. 

“I don’t like it,” says Sanji. 

“You ever disliked something before?” 

“No.” 

“Then congratulations.” 

Then Zoro reaches out and grabs his hand. His grip is weak still, shaking.

He says, “this is the point. You have to find things to live for, now.” 

And Sanji thinks. “I’m supposed to live for friends,” he says. “And freedom.” 

“The you’re on the right ship,” Zoro says. “What else?” 

And Sanji remembers a book his mum used to read. A long time ago.

“Have you heard of the All Blue?”

[doctorbeth]

Scooby Doo circa 1979

This poor pup, at the age of 44, was nearly decapitated sometime in those four plus decades.

His person didn't remember if it was a fight with another dog or something else, but she found him stored like this among her mother's things, and wanted to see about making him feel better. In addition to the neck wound, he was missing a spot on the back, needed some eye touchup... and we were planning a spa for him.

Here he is in his bubble bath:

I don't know about you, but I can see his Scooby grin (which is actually missing) forming under the bubbles in that photo. I think it's one of my favorite spa pics. Anyway, here's his heart being made and installed.

Next his internal wire supports were straightened and reinstalled, and his neck injury was treated. That's when I figured out he once had a collar, because a stub of it was clinging to the inside of his neck. So I spoke with his person and we planned a new collar. These were the felt options, based on illustrations of Scooby from that era (the stub of collar was so faded, it was hard to tell the original color).

The plan was just to do a collar, maybe with a blank diamond hanging from it as I couldn't exactly replicate a machine embroidered tag (or the images of Scooby's tags online). But it was the weekend, and we let Scooby rest and while he was resting and I was busy doing other things, I had an idea of how to make his tag! So I made a tag with the collar, attached it, and sent photos. I told his person if she didn't like it, it was easy to go back to a plain gold diamond:

But she loved it! So we kept the SD tag and next was his new felt spot on his back to replace the missing one, and a new smile. Based on the stitches on his fur, it was hard to tell what his original smile looked like, so I sent a sketch with some example options:

His person chose the center one, but said thick yarn maybe? I knew it couldn't have been thick yarn originally. There would have been larger holes. But based on all his felt parts, thought maybe it was felt, so that's what we agreed to do. Soon, Scooby was smiling again and ready to fly home:

His person wrote "he looks brand new, wow I cannot thank you enough! Thank you so much!! He looks amazing!"

and when he got home, she added:

"He is home!!! He smells like my mom, I know you bathed him and cleaned him I don’t know how he does but that is the only thing I have now that smells like her. Thank you so so much!!!"

(that's the heart of original stuffing holding the scent. :-))

[bisexualiteaa]

fem reader x ghoul where he’s talking about how small she is?

Fun Size

Cooper Howard x Smaller Fem Reader (SMUT!!)

CW: NSFW MDNI!! Size kink, p in v, unprotected sex, p0rn w/o plot, mentions of breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy, cursing, body worship, establish relationship.

AN: Hey anon! I couldn’t figure out any other way to write this than as a smut so I hope that’s alright! I hope I could do your ask justice and that you and all my other lovely readers will enjoy!

Synopsis: Cooper loved that you were smaller than him, whether it was height, stature, weight it didn’t matter, he loved it about you. He wanted to make sure you knew just how much he loves his fun size. ❤️

This one is slightly shorter than my other works but I hope it is just as enjoyable! I’m actually a smaller framed person so writing this comes from a slightly personal place, I hope it can still be enjoyable to those of all body types. Our cowboy doesn’t discriminate and neither do I, know that you are all loved! ❤️

When he called you his lil’ lady, he called you it for a lot of different reasons. One; he was southern at heart, so a few terms of endearment were standard practice for him. Two; was because you were little compared to him, and he absolutely adored that. When he stood near you, he nearly towered over you, and his stature was quite broad compared to you. He could lift more than you, drink more than you, but what you lacked in size, you more than made up for in attitude. He had never seen someone have so much fight and so much poison in their sweet voice. He knew it’s what you had to do, in a dog eat dog world like this, you really had no other options. As much as you may have held a dislike for your smaller stature, he always wanted to assure you that he enjoyed it, and it was in these more intimate moments like this one that he really enjoyed that size difference.

His larger hand came over yours as he took you from behind, his fingers intertwined with yours as he leaned his head into the crook of your neck. He placed kisses against the sensitive spots along your skin, enjoying the moans leaving your lips as his hips slapped against your ass. “Cooper…” you moaned sweetly, your head raising a little as your mouth fell open, his cock brushing your g-spot with each drag outwards and nudged the apex of your cervix with each thrust inwards. “Love this cute lil’ waist of yours” he said, his free hand traveling along your frame, grabbing at anything he could get his hands on. “These hands, look damn good holdin’ a gun in ‘em” he added, worshipping your body as it trembled beneath him, your whimpers and moans sounding like music to his ruined ears. “Everythin’ about you is perfect, darlin’” he finished, and you’d never felt so loved. You never really put much thought into your size before, knowing you were small put you at a slight disadvantage out in the wastelands because most people would take one look and consider you weak, but Cooper knew that was far from the truth. You were one hell of a woman, with firepower and attitude to put someone even taller than him to shame. You were stronger than most ever gave you credit for, and that was almost like a secret power for you. “In another life, I’d have put a baby in this lil’ tummy of yours. Watch you walk around all swollen where you gotta waddle” he said, groaning at the thought of having a child with you, he so dearly missed his baby girl from his past marriage but that was a thought for another time. He felt your walls squeeze around him at the thought, making him chuckle. “Ya like that thought, dontchya, sugar? Felt that pretty pussy tighten around me, you like the thought of me breedin’ you, sweetheart?” He asked with a perverted grin, making you whimper as your face and body fell hot. You’d be a liar if you said the dream hadn’t crossed your mind before but it was one you knew was impossible to think about, especially with how the world was now. You felt his fingers run down to rub tight circles against your clit, making your back arch and your head roll back against his shoulder. “That’s it, arch that back. Cum for me sweetheart, I gotchya” he coaxed, and it wasn’t long before you fell over the edge, the cry of his name leaving your lips like a prayer.

You gasped for air as you panted beneath him, your smaller frame trembling beneath him once more as the feeling rushed over you in pleasurable waves. You whined, feeling him quickly pull out and finish over your back, needing to conserve your resources of RadAway for just a little bit longer before using it again. As you collapsed on the bed, waiting for him to return with a damp rag to clean you, you had a great idea on how to really play with his liking of the size difference. You smirked to yourself as you watched him dispose of the rag after cleaning you up then himself, sneaking his shirt from off the floor and putting it over your tiny frame. His shirt pooled over you like a night dress, all baggy around the middle, sleeves coming over your hands as they almost seemed to disappear beneath the pool of fabric. The bottom of the shirt came to rest just around your mid-thighs, it was perfect. He looked up, giving a mix between a chuckle and a groan at the sight, feeling his dick twitch in his briefs as you stood before him in nothing more than his beaten up, bloodstained shirt. “Careful sugar, don’t start somethin’ you ain’t able to finish” he warned, seeing the mischievous glint in your eyes and grin stretched to your lips. “Not sure I catch your meanin’ there, honey” you replied teasingly as he scooped you up with ease, soon plopping you back down on the bed with him as he all but pounced on you, making you yelp playfully before giggling as he buried his face into your neck. “Ya look damn good in my clothes” he said, making you smile. “It’s a sight you can have every day if ya’d like t’ keep me ‘round” you responded, knowing exactly what his answer would be to that. “Think I’d ever get rid a you? You’re all mine, fun size” he said, making you giggle at the bad pun-based nickname he called you. “Wouldn’t want it any other way” you replied, wrapping your arms around him and kissing his bald head before falling peacefully asleep.