#super p force extra

[medzcuresblog]

Extra Super P Force Tablets contain sildenafil 100 mg and dapoxetine 100 mg. Which is used to treat premature ejaculation (PE) and erectile dysfunction (ED) in men 18 to 64 years old.

[queensunshinee]

His favorite toy || Art Donaldson x reader

Rating: Explicit (18+) Warnings: SMUT (p in v sex, fingering), drinking, super toxic relationship, reader is kinda pathetic :(

Word Count: 3.4k

His favorit toy

Sometimes I think he was born to be in love with her, just like I was born to be in love with him. Unconditionally, without consequences. Just like that, love. And it’s not fair that someone can take so much from you and give back so little. It’s not fair that someone can control your entire range of emotions and yet not be affected by them. It’s not fair that Art Donaldson was born to revolve around Tashi Duncan while I was born for the leftovers he allows himself to leave for me.

“You can stay,” I mumbled as he started getting dressed. “I wish I could, I’ve got morning practice tomorrow,” he said without looking at me. ‘That didn’t stop you from coming inside me,’ I wanted to retort but just nodded and turned my back to him. He stopped dressing for a moment, and I knew he was looking at me, wondering if this time would be the time I’d stop letting him emotionally abuse me. Wondering if this would be the time I’d tell him that if he didn’t stay, he could go find someone else to fuck.

“Baby, I’d love to stay,” he sat at the edge of the bed and gave my shoulder a little shake. “It’s not a big deal, Art. You’re a big boy, you can do whatever you want,” I mumbled toward him. And it sounded petty and bitter. But I felt petty and bitter. I could feel the bitterness on the tip of my tongue. I could feel the sag of the crappy dorm bed swallowing me up. “I want to stay, of course I do,” his voice was fake. Like he was talking to a baby who didn’t understand circumstances or an adult’s schedule. “You know I want to,” he continued, this time planting a small kiss on the shoulder he had shaken earlier.

“When someone wants something, they do it. You wanted to fuck me, you fucked me. You wanted to come inside me, you came. You want to leave, you’re leaving. Just don’t excuse it with morning practice, you’re making me feel like an idiot,” I mumbled. He was silent, not expecting that little monologue. Not expecting that I’d finally tell him he’s acting like an asshole. “I don’t think I’m making you feel that way, you’re making yourself feel that way,” he sighed and stood up, going back to getting dressed while I lay on my back. “Are you serious?” I shot back.

“We don’t have to do this, I’m not forcing you to sleep with me, and if it’s making you feel this bad, we really don’t need to.” He said in a calm, almost calculated tone. Clear of emotions. I rolled my eyes in response and turned away again, not wanting to look at him anymore. “I’m gonna go, I’ll see you tomorrow in class?” he asked, and I felt his lips brush against my hair before he left. And if it weren’t for his smell buried in the pillow and his cum still dripping from me with every movement, I would’ve been sure I imagined him. And in my imagination, he was beautiful and sweet and mine. More than anything, mine.

In statistics class, for a change, I sat next to Janet and Shane, and I could feel Art’s blue eyes boring into my back. Usually, I wait for him with coffee at the back of the auditorium. That’s how we met—he was late to class one day, and the only open seat was next to me. He was funny and charming, almost shy when he asked for notes before the first exam. Almost embarrassed the first time I placed a cup of coffee on his desk when he arrived. Almost apologetic the first time he kissed me.

And for a change, I didn’t waste extra money I don’t even have to buy him a cup of coffee. For a change, I sat with friends I hadn’t spoken to in a while. And for a change, I let him wonder if it was over or if I was bluffing. His eyes were glued to me the whole lecture—neither of us was listening to what the professor was saying, and I know it’s going to come back to bite me.

“Are you going to be mad at me for much longer?” I heard a voice from behind me as I walked down the hall, engrossed in my phone. “I’m not mad at you, Art,” I mumbled without stopping. His strides were longer than mine, and he didn’t have to try too hard to catch up. “So why’d you switch seats?” I could guess he was rolling his eyes, but I didn’t look at him. “Because I wanted to sit with Janet and Shane,” I replied. “Since when are you friends with Janet and Shane?” he asked. “If you ever bothered to ask who my friends are, you’d know I’m friends with Janet and Shane,” I stopped this time and looked at him. He looked composed, like a lawyer who had prepared his most persuasive argument.

“Don’t you think you’re overreacting? I had practice at five in the morning, Peaches.” He sighed, looking at me with big eyes. “I can’t believe we’re arguing over this. We never argue.” He stepped closer to me, and I backed away until there was nowhere left to go. Around us, students rushed to their classes or dorms while I was trapped between Art Donaldson and a concrete wall. “We’re not arguing, Art. I just needed a break,” I replied, feeling less sure of myself as his breaths nearly blended with mine. “A break from what?” his hands brushed against my cheeks. “You know what,” I wondered if he could hear the desperation screaming in my voice too. “Baby,” he sighed. “You don’t need a break. It’s just a busy period.” He kissed me on the cheek. “You can’t keep being mad at me, come on, Peaches,” he said in a playful tone. “Look how cute I am.” He chuckled and nibbled on my earlobe.

“We’re in the middle of the hallway,” I mumbled, feeling myself smile uncontrollably, giving in to his goofiness. “I don’t care. You can’t stay mad at me anymore.” This time we both chuckled. “Here we go,” he continued, and his lips found mine for a short kiss. “I need you,” he declared, and I nodded into his shirt. He needs me, how could I refuse that?

Turns out, it was easier than I thought to take a break from Art Donaldson. All that mattered to him and his ego was knowing that I wasn’t actively mad at him. That he wasn’t the bad guy in the story. That he was okay.

In the following two weeks, I kept sitting next to him in statistics until he found another seat and texted me a simple, 'Haven’t seen Dylan in a while' as an excuse, and I smiled at him without showing my teeth. From being inside me three times a week and whispering in my ear that I was the most beautiful girl he’d ever known, he stopped looking me in the eyes and acted as if we barely knew each other.

And it was almost okay, because that’s what I told him I wanted. He was the one who insisted he needed me.

A month passed, and life returned to an almost-normal routine—going from classes to work, to hanging out on Janet’s rooftop. “You know what annoys me?” I asked, taking a drag from the cigarette rolled with weed she’d prepared. “What annoys you?” she asked, chuckling. “That he looks so damn good.” I said, and her chuckle turned into full laughter. “Oh, yeah, the star of Stanford’s tennis team looks good; that’s usually how it goes with athletes,” she said, half-sarcastically. “I’m telling you, if he didn’t look so good, he wouldn’t have been able to pull off half the shit he put me through,” I added and coughed after another drag. “Oh god, you need a new hookup. I can’t hear any more about Art Donaldson.” Janet couldn’t stop laughing. “Do you think the sky is green?” she suddenly asked, staring at the clouds. “No, I think you’ve smoked too much green,” I gave her a little shove that knocked her sideways as we both laughed.

That’s how we found ourselves at a party later that night. We didn’t exactly know whose party it was, but a friend of a friend texted Janet, and that was enough to go. She fixed the makeup that had smudged around my eyes just before we walked in. I was wearing her black dress, which was at least one size too small for me, and I had to keep pulling it down every few seconds. “Stop it, you look hot. You’re just overthinking it. Go with the flow.” She pulled me inside, and I nodded as we walked. Just go with the flow. What could happen if I just go with the flow?

One beer turned into two and a shot of gin. By that point, half the night felt like a blur, and the other half felt dizzying, but I was dancing with Janet and Shane, who had joined us, and eventually, I went outside to smoke a cigarette and get some air.

Someone handed me a cup, and I looked to the side, seeing Art. “It’s water,” he mumbled. “Thanks,” I replied. “Are you having fun?” he asked, his gaze not leaving me. “Yeah, you?” I asked back. “Yeah,” his voice was calm, “You usually don’t like things like this,” he said after a few seconds of silence. “What’s your point?” I asked, feeling my patience wearing thin with the weird small talk. “What are you doing here, I guess?” he asked quietly. “I can go to a fucking party, Art,” I felt my jaw clench with frustration. “I didn’t say you couldn’t—” “So what are you saying?” I cut him off.

“I just said I’m not used to seeing you at parties, that’s all,” he muttered.

“Hey, I’ve been looking for you. Are you coming inside? Who’s this?” Tashi Duncan’s voice was as familiar as her face. She hosted Stanford’s sports program, which they probably forced her to do. Her and Art’s posters were plastered everywhere. “Oh, this is (Y/N), she’s in my statistics class,” Art said quickly, and Tashi nodded. “Nice, is he any good at it?” she asked, half-joking, like someone who's trying to break the ice in a situation she’d stumbled into. “No, he’s shitty. My friends are waiting for me, thanks for the water,” I replied and went back inside without looking back, wondering if this is what it feels like when your heart breaks. If from now on, every time I see Art Donaldson, it’ll shatter a little more.

I sat on the couch, as Shane had told me to, when someone sat next to me. I turned slowly because I couldn’t manage more than that. “Hey,” he had green eyes and blond hair, “I’m Luke,” he offered a hand for a handshake. “We had Intro to Economics together last semester,” he added with a smile. “Oh,” was all I could manage to say back. “We’re also in a few classes together now. You sit one row below me in Micro,” he continued, and I just stared at the guy talking to me.

“Did we talk before?” I asked. “Sorry if that’s rude, I’m just drunk,” I quickly added, hoping he wouldn’t be offended. I was just trying to recall my interactions with people, and I didn’t remember him. He looked good enough that I should’ve remembered him. “Actually, no. You always seem in your own world, and I didn’t want to interrupt,” he said, still smiling. “I see,” I said. “Actually, no. What do you mean, in my own world? I’m right here in your world, you know,” I kept talking faster than I probably should. “Oh, I didn’t mean to offend you. You’re just usually either with friends or scribbling something,” I saw he got nervous.

“Well,” I tried to remember his name, “Luke, you can always talk to me. I’m usually bored in those classes anyway,” I laughed, and he laughed too, clearly feeling relieved. “Can I get your number?” he asked. “Just in case we make plans or something,” he quickly added when he saw the surprised look on my face. I handed him my phone, and I couldn’t tell if the warmth spreading through my cheeks was from the alcohol or the situation. “You have a message from Art Donaldson,” he said, handing my phone back after adding his number. And just like that, the momentary euphoria ended. Art had to remind me at every possible moment that he existed.

If there’s something Art hates, it’s being ignored. Being left on ‘read.’ I guess that’s why he knocked on my door at 3 AM, incredibly drunk. “Your dress is so pretty,” he mumbled, reciting the message he sent me earlier at the party. “Art, it’s really late—” “He’s flirting with you because your dress is pretty,” he recited the next message. I memorized them so well that I could recite them along with him. “Because you’re pretty,” he continued to the next message. “I’m sorry I introduced you like that, I panicked,” the next message. “You’re not just someone who studies statistics with me,” another message. “Art—” I tried to interrupt the show in front of me. “I really am shitty,” he continued. “Are you done?” I asked, even though I knew the answer, that was the last message he sent.

“Did you lose your phone or something, Peaches?” he asked, half-laughing, half-sarcastic. “You’re drunk,” I sighed. “You didn’t answer me. I thought something happened,” he mumbled. “Liar,” I rolled my eyes. “You’re right, I knew nothing happened. I thought you were fucking that new guy you found,” he shot back. “Wow, Art, you think amazing things about me. You really know me well,” I returned sarcastically. “Anything else?” I asked, ignoring the fact that he was getting closer to me with giant steps. “I missed you, Peach,” he mumbled, his breath, which smelled like his usual gum and beer, mixing with mine again.

“So why did you disappear on me?” I asked. And it came out more desperate than I planned. More pathetic than I expected. I could imagine the smirk spreading on his smug face as I closed my eyes. “You asked for a break. I just gave you what you asked for. I couldn’t hold back today though, you were so beautiful, Peach. The most beautiful at that shitty party. So, the break’s over, okay?” he said, and in his drunk mind, it was probably a logical sentence. His lips brushed against mine, and finally, he kissed me like a starving man who stumbled upon his favorite meal. He had never kissed me like this. He was always gentle in his movements, calculated in every shift.

Not this time. His hands brushed over every part of my body they could reach, I don’t know how I found myself without the shirt I was sleeping in, but I stood in front of him only in my underwear, and he took a step back, looking at me in the dark, as if he was an expert in night vision. As if he was trying to capture me in his memory. “You’re drunk,” I said again. “Not even close,” he replied. “Please, Peach. I’ll be good. I need you,” his kisses went down to my neck, and he led me to the bed. Everything was sloppy and messy, but I found myself under him in seconds, with him also already without a shirt.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said. And that was the usual mantra, he says all the right words and touches all the right places. He knows what makes me tick. He knows what gives me chills and which position I like best. I felt tears forming in the corners of my eyes, as if waiting for me to blink. Then his lips covered them, gently, and if someone had seen the scene from the side, they might dare to think it was love. “Fuck, baby, I’ll make you happy. You want that? You want me?” he asked, pulling away from me for a second and looking at me with half-plea, in almost mania.

“Yes, Art,” I said quietly. “Yes, what?” he asked with his typical determination. “Yes, I want you,” I returned, running a gentle hand over his face, and he repositioned himself over me. “That’s my girl,” he groaned. “I missed you so much. How needy you are. Don’t worry, baby, I’ll help you. I’ll give you what you need,” his hand pinched my left nipple, and I felt like he was punishing me for the last month. “Mmm Art,” it came out as half-whimper, half-cry. “Shhhh, you can take it, right? You missed this?” he asked, and I nodded. “Of course you can, a slut like you, a month without her favorite cock, my poor thing. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” he said, and I felt his hand, the one not torturing my chest, settle between my legs. “Art,” another half-moan, half-whimper.

“Fuck, Peach, you’re so wet,” he chuckled nastily and pushed my panties aside, not waiting too long before he slipped two fingers where I needed him. “Oh my god,” I mumbled, closing my eyes. “No no, look at me. Eyes on me.” He bit my neck and pinched my chest harder. I felt my whole body tighten, and I tried to keep quiet so as not to wake the entire dorm hall. “You’re so easy, Peach,” he said while I clenched around his hand. “Uh-huh, fuck, Art,” I tried to catch his mouth with mine in a half-movement, and he moved his face away with a chuckle, as if trying to prove how pathetic I was now. “Please,” I mumbled. “Please what?” he asked, again close to my face. “Please, kiss me,” I gave in, unable to act like a woman who respects herself. Within seconds, his lips were on mine, and his cock was inside me, filling me. “There you go,” he mumbled into my lips, stroking my hair with one hand and holding my hand with the other. The sad truth is, we’ve never fucked like this. It’s always in the most complicated positions you can think of, never missionary, never in a way that would confuse me into thinking that maybe Art Donaldson loves me.

“You’re so good, baby,” he said, thrusting as deep as he could. Slowly. As if he had all the time in the world. “I missed you. It was like losing a limb, losing your pussy,” another deep thrust. “But you’re mine again, right?” he asked, and all I could do was nod while his hand left mine and started making circles on my clit. His rhythm became chaotic, and he looked at me with a look that told me he was close. “I know, baby,” I mumbled, holding onto his neck, and he nodded. “I think I love you,” he mumbled into my lips with closed eyes. “I love you too,” I whispered. His cum filled me, just like every time since the first time he came inside me.

He kissed me again and stayed inside me for a few more seconds, his weight almost crushing me before he pulled out of me and moved to the side, placing my head on his chest, trying to find a comfortable position on the awful dorm bed. We both panted heavily as his hand made small movements through my hair. “I’ll get you something to clean up…” he mumbled, and I nodded, a bit stunned. Because that wasn’t a typical Art move. He never thought about it deeply enough. He threw a shirt he picked up from the floor at me and studied me for a moment as he started getting dressed.

“You’re not staying?” I asked and sighed. “I can’t, I have practice in the morning,” he replied. And just when I thought something had changed, Art and I stayed exactly the same.

Hey there guys, it's been a while since I wrote anything and as much as I love TTOOL, and I love the story deeply, I wanted to explore a new concept. It's the first time I have written in a xreader style, so I hope it turned out OK. Can't wait to hear your thoughts, it's my favorite part 💜

Using the taglist from the main story, hopefully you'll like that too: @lydiaxkirby @suzysface tqd4455 @soberbabes @nina357 @lamoursansfin @marley1773 @ruyaas-world @apolloscastellan @primlovesdilfs @fangirl-kimora @serenadingtigers @imbabycowboy @do-it-for-kicks @izzywags478 @4deline08 @igotmajordaddyissues @jackierose902109 @ganana @yoitsme-04 @swetearss

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ every week is fashion week ]❜

ft. wade wilson x gn! reader — marvel

╰₊✧ playing dress to impress with deadpool┊0.6k words

contains: wade being wade and probably ooc because he’s a bitch to write for

➤ author's note: gaming with him could fix me honestly

╰₊✧ when you hear him yelling and swearing insults like a sailor, you assume that he was playing some sort of rage game or a first-person shooter that he sucked at, but when you enter his room to see what all the commotion is about, you’ll see him hunched over on his ipad playing roblox like a child. the moment he sees you, he’s going to force you to download the app if you didn’t have it already and have you duo with him to have cute matching couple outfits.

╰₊✧ he knows nearly every code that’s active, has vip unlocked, and theorizes about the story behind it all like the lore whore he is. it sounds crazy to you how such a dress-up game could contain little details about a doppelganger replacing the nail tech, a mysterious organization, and something called the “flesh room, but you suppose that every generation needs to have an innocent-looking media hiding dark secrets.

╰₊✧ speaking of generations, you’re a hundred percent sure he’s too old to be playing this game and the way he bullies other players who are likely children makes you think that he was a regina george equivalent back in the day. he claims you only think that because he’s a harsh critic who rarely gives out anything higher than three stars, but it’s clear that he forgets that it’s a game for kids and gets carried away often.

“what the hell is that?! that’s not 2000s, that’s 2010s, dumbass!”

“babe, i’m pretty sure that they weren’t even born yet in the 2000s.”

“whatever, it’s still the ugliest fucking skirt i’ve ever seen.”

╰₊✧ he’s super competitive and petty with a capital “p,” strutting his model around to scope out the competition and singing a little improvised song under his breath along with the background music (some crazy stuff comes out of his mouth, things that make you whip your head around to stare at him while he acts like he didn’t just say the wildest shit for the sake of a rhyme). every round is like a different episode of reality television, and wade is constantly beefing with other contestants like it’s high school again.

“ooh, she ate.”

“...really?”

“yeah, she ‘ate’... OFF MY PLATE! THIS BITCH IS COPYING ME!”

╰₊✧ because his fashion sense is impeccable and his creativity is off the charts, he gets copied a lot and he will walk up to them to confront them about it. if they try to walk away or insist they aren’t, he’ll menacingly follow them around with a bloodlust that somehow permeates the screen until they finally change. you need to remind him to stop scaring the children, yet he never listens because it’s not like they can hear him roasting them on an open fire anyway.

╰₊✧ he always lands in the top five and carries you when doing duos because you refuse to spend a cent on roblox, but he can get pretty pissy when an outfit (or player) he didn’t like places higher than him. every time he quits and puts down his tablet to do something else, you’ll find him playing again with his feet in the air swinging like a teen girl writing in their diary about their crush an hour later. you’ll also hear him trying to convince logan to play with him too, although he’ll never be successful in this lifetime.

╰₊✧ gives an extra star to anyone coming out on the runway who forgot or didn’t have enough time to pick out a hairstyle in “bald solidarity”

╰₊✧ his favorite pose is pose 28, referencing the meme of “pussy facing the word” as his reasoning because of course it is.

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Day 8 of TUI-Mas

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), unprotected p in v, obligatory breeding kink, pregnancy, Reader has a baby bump, we're basically extra horny for Eddie thanks to second-trimester hormones

WC: 1.2k

Divider credit to @saradika

August 1999

“I’ll have…” Harris Munson peers over the Scoops Ahoy counter, nose almost pressed against the glass, “…a scoop of mint chocolate chip with strawberry sauce and…mini marshmallows. Please,” he adds with an enthusiastic smile. 

Eddie contorts his face into a disgusted expression. “Seriously, Har?” He turns to you with the expectation that you’ll back him up like you usually do when Harris tries experimenting with weird ice cream concoctions. 

“Actually,” you muse, grinning down at Harris and absentmindedly resting your hands on your bump, “that doesn’t sound half bad. I think I’ll do the same.”

“Absolutely not,” Eddie interjects, shaking his head in disappointment and disbelief. “No way. You don’t even like mint ice cream; you said it reminds you of toothpaste.”

“I know,” you shrug, digging your wallet from your bag and fishing out some cash, “but the baby thinks it’s delicious.”

He rubs his thumb and forefinger over his eyelids. “Christ. And what about the strawberry sauce and marshmallows? Does the baby want those, too?”

You huff out an exasperated sigh, cocking a brow in a feeble attempt at intimidation. “Are you telling your pregnant wife what she can and cannot eat?” 

“Yeah!” Harris glances up at his dad. “She can eat whatever Baby Brother wants her to eat.”

“Fine, fine,” Eddie takes his cup of Rocky Road from the poor cashier forced to listen to this banter. “But if anyone asks, I don’t know either of you.” His brown doe eyes shift back and forth between you and Harris. 

You pay the cashier and hand Harris his ice cream before collecting your own. Magenta syrup drips down the bright green scoop, tiny marshmallows cascading downwards in a sugary avalanche. You sink your spoon into it and take a bite, savoring the flavors that shouldn’t complement each other, but pregnancy cravings have eschewed all logic and reason. 

“So, Mr. Almost Second-Grader,” you say to Harris, who seems to be enjoying his Franken-Dessert as much as you are, “are you excited for school to start in a few weeks?”

Harris shoots you the same grimace that Eddie gave him when he’d placed his ice cream order. “Nah, I don’t like homework. And this year, we gotta learn how to do adding and subtracting with even bigger numbers.”

“Yeah, but we’ve been practicing with flashcards all summer,” you remind him, pushing a napkin in his direction so he can wipe his face. “You’re super prepared.”

“I guess.” 

He still doesn’t seem too excited, so you try another tactic. “And you, Joshua, and Charlie are in the same class again this year.”

His eyes light up at this. “Oh, yeah!” He leans into his ice cream and attempts to lick up a marshmallow with only his tongue, sending it careening across the table and plopping onto the tile floor unceremoniously.

“God help that teacher,” Eddie mutters under his breath, sparkling eyes meeting yours for just a moment, but it’s enough to send a shiver of delight down your spine that is wholly unrelated to the frozen dessert you’re devouring.

You and Eddie curl up on the couch later that evening, clicking the remote’s channel button until you land on a rerun of something you can both agree on. Harris’s input is null and void; he’s tucked into bed after experiencing the sugar rush–and crash–of a lifetime.

Eddie stretches, draping one arm over your shoulders, his fingertips grazing the swell of your right breast. It may be accidental, but there’s no denying the way your nipple hardens at the slight touch, especially through your thin pajama top. There’s no time for a smirk to even grace his lips before your legs are straddling his waist haphazardly, your bump making it an increasingly difficult task.

“Sh-Shit,” Eddie mumbles in between the frantic kisses you press to his lips. His hands find purchase in the flesh of your ass, squeezing reflexively. “What’s all this about, Sweetheart?”

You suck on his neck, tasting the musky remnants of his aftershave. “Need you, fuck, need you so bad.” Your hips roll against him, creating a delectable friction that sends a surge of wetness into your panties.

“Better move this into the bedroom, then.”

You assume the same position once your bodies hit the bed, pulling your tank top above your head. Eddie’s gaze lands on your bump first, his palms drawn to it like magnets. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he says breathlessly, his thumbs traveling upwards to brush over your pebbled nipples. “I mean, I thought you were drop-dead gorgeous when we met, but now–”

“Less talking, more sex.” You nearly tear off his boxers, a sticky trail of pre-cum connecting him to the cotton fabric. He hisses as you grab his half-hard cock, spitting directly onto the tip and sliding your fist up and down the shaft. “Just wanna ride you.”

“Shit, okay.” Eddie laughs, pushing himself onto the pillows and tucking his hands behind his head. “All yours, Sweetheart.”

You adjust your body so you can easily sink onto him, letting him stretch you while you stifle a moan. Grabbing onto his waist, you brace yourself and slowly grind against him.

“Thassit, sweet girl.” He bites his lower lip with his top teeth, eyes rolling back as you find your pacing. He clutches your thighs, giving you the stability you need to ride him. His pelvis rises as his hips buck up with lazy thrusts. “Mmf, you’re so fuckin’ tight. Pussy was made f’me, wasn’t it?”

“Mhm.” The two syllables are all you can manage, filled with love and lust and Eddie. You want to continue in this position, but pregnancy restricts your movement and your stamina, and you know you both need more. “Can…can you…?”

Eddie grins, nodding his head and keeping a firm grasp on your upper legs. “I got you, babe. Don’t worry.” He holds you so your core remains pressed to his, snapping into you. “Always gonna take care of my girl,” he growls, accentuating each word. “Your tits have never looked better, holy hell.”

“Eddie…Eddie,” you pant, clenching around him needily. Your middle finger circles your clit, and the orgasm you’ve been chasing finally comes to fruition. Pleasure blooms in your lower belly as you continue to cry out his name. You’ve never finished this quickly before, and it takes you both by surprise. 

“Goddamn,” Eddie murmurs. “These hormones got you really sensitive, huh?”

“Mhm.”

“You like it though.” It’s a statement, not a question, but you nod regardless. “Maybe I should keep you pregnant so you always feel this good. Is that what you want?”

Words escape you momentarily, but once you find them, you vehemently agree. “Y-Yes, God, yes.”

“Ohfuckohfuckohfuck.” His own grunts morph into whimpers as he spills within you, pistoning harshly to milk every last drop. Sweat beads on his forehead. “Sweetheart, that was…holy shit.” He whines when you pull yourself off of him, but you muffle it with a kiss. The plushness of his lips stir another fire inside you, and your fingers begin another descent through his coarse pubic hair to his softening length. “H-Honey, what are you—”

“Round two,” you exhale, already rubbing yourself against his thigh, desperate for stimulation. “Please, baby? How else are you gonna keep me pregnant?”

Eddie’s whole body freezes at this, a smile splitting his face. “Well, when you put it that way, how could I ever resist?” 

--

[sulumuns-dootah]

NSFW Alphabet - Leviathan

༺☆༻

A/N: Sorry this took a long time. Been a busy and chaotic past month, but I'm working on things so hopefully they'll be ready to post soon. Also, Levi isn't exactly my favorite so I had hard time analyzing and accounting for all the lore we have so far.

⟡ Masterlist ⟡ 

‎‧₊˚✧ 18+ Minors Do Not Interact‎ ✧˚₊‧

༺☆༻

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

If you had an intense encounter, you'd both need it, which is why he calls for his servants to come and care for the both of you. Otherwise, he doesn't mind to do some extra steps to get you comfortable.

༺☆༻

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Our nice piece of ass loves your neck. The loyalty noose would look amazing around it. Or maybe his hands?

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C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

I'd say his cum tastes like caviar. He's technically a fish too, after all. Definitely the king whose cum I'd enjoy the least. It's also not as opaque, but with a slight shimmer.

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D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

While he's having some me-time, sometimes he puts on a noose around his neck and orders himself to hang.

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E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

With how rarely he trusts anyone, I'd say he barely has any. He gets the gist, knows many positions, but hasn't tried out most of them.

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F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Any position, really. As long as you're strangling him hard enough, he doesn't care.

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G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? Etc.)

No jokes here. In fact, no jokes ever. Besides like some special circumstances.

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H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? Etc.)

Perfectly silky smooth like the rest of him. There's no room for imperfection.

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I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

If he's bedding you, you're already doing something right. I imagine him being super vulnerable figuratively as well as literally with the strangling and all.

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J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

His main source of getting off. He can't even remember the last time he's slept with someone. Once you're in the picture, however, that immediately changes and his hands focus onto you.

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K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Beside the obvious breath control and getting beat up, he also strikes me as the type that would be into voyeurism as in getting watched fucking someone.

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L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Public places are out of the question. The safety of his castle is the only place where he allows himself to get loose.

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M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Jealousy, of course. But also public humiliation as long as he sees you as more than just his subject.

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N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Share a partner. He'd get too jealous and possessive. Unless, of course, you tie him up as a punishment. HE would actually enjoy that.

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O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Force him to go down on you and you'll have one of the best orgasms ever. In giving-head-contest he'd come close second (only beaten by the pussy devourer fly boy). While giving him head, he'd get super whiny and needy. Tease him and he'll lose his mind.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? Etc.)

There's two ways Levi can go. Either he's downright lovemaking with you or the bedroom is a whole ass battlefield.

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Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Actually, thinking about the location again... I wanted to say that why have quickies when you're at his castle and have all the time in the world, but thinking about it, If the need arises and you're not in his chambers, he would definitely use his coffin to have a quickie with his partner.

༺☆༻

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? Etc.)

Depending on the risk. He wouldn't mind seeing how long you can hang from the noose, but wouldn't try and introduce lovecraftian horrors in the bedroom.

༺☆༻

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Leviathan's energy is stored in that juicy ass of his and boy, can he go for long time. The thing is, that he will, however, start complaining that he's tired and that you have to do the rest yourself.

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T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Levi doesn't really strike me as the type to use toys. His imagination is enough for him. In my mind he's more old fashioned and all these different toys are just a riffraff for him. (Meaning he's too shy to buy some and would be afraid to get caught using them.)

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U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Oh this man *italian hand motion* loves to tease, but the moment you tease back you have no time to react before you're hanging from the ceiling.

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V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Whimpers. This man whimpers and it's the best thing you've ever heard (besides Beel's purring). How loud, depends on the situation. If you're on the bottom, some might escape him. But if you're on top, oh boy, all the demons in the surrounding chambers know.

༺☆༻

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Actually, not a hc, but more of an analysis of his H scene that I really want to talk about? Okay, so Levi makes it really obvious that he wants to be beaten and straight up just abused. This just screams to me a trauma response, which is extremely sad to me. The amount of abuse he had to endure to the point where his mind equates it to pleasure just so he doesn't go bonkers?

༺☆༻

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Once again, if you have the Erolabs version, you're lucky to see his sausage in the game itself. I personally agree with the ingame depiction of Levi's dick (unlike certain pierced someone's).

༺☆༻

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Actually, piggybacking off the wild card analysis, I think Levi can go anytime all the time. One of trauma responses tends to be hypersexuality (but I'm not a professional psychologist, so don't take my word for it). We even know about it from the Halloween event where Minhyeok says that Levi looks like he's in the mood despite fighting off angels.

༺☆༻

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Not really a sleep I'd say, but he wouldn't mind snuggling up after some exhausting workout. Just don't get too used to it since he's too busy.

[axelsagewrites]

Heyyy! Ok so hear me out..can I request a Modern AU! Aegon x Fem! OC fic. The OC is neighbors with Aegon, Helena, Aemond, and Daeron. She’s always had a bit of a crush on Aegon but he’s always too busy drinking, smoking, having sex ( the OC’s and Aegon’s windows are directly across so the OC can see everything going on in Aegons room and even sees him fucking a girl), etc. to notice. So, the OC gravitates towards Helena and becomes Helena’s best friend. There’s also one rule the OC can never date or have sexual relations with any of Helena’s brothers. Years later (cut to Tom Glynn-Carney’s Aegon), the OC and Helena are still best friends but the OC goes to a frat party and sees Aegon, obviously oblivious to her because he sees her as his little sisters weird friend/neighbor but he accidentally OD’s. The OC manages to save him by rushing to him and getting him to a hospital. Aegon wakes up and is majorly thankful. Aegon and the OC start to become friends and then very quickly secretly date. Things get out of hand and the OC gets pregnant, and she has to tell Aegon. Aegon starts freaking out not wanting the responsibility and basically tells her to literally get rid of it. Helena finds out about the pregnancy and starts freaking out and gets super mad at the OC and leaves her. The OC tells Alicent but Alicent is way more forgiving and is shoot to have her first grandchild, and tells the OC that she is always welcome to stay if she wants. The OC feels abandoned and scared, etc. That’s all I have for this idea, it sort of just poured right out of my head lol. If you think of an ending or anything extra for the story please feel free add it, I sort of lost momentum of inspiration behind the idea towards the end ( ass you can see lol).

Aegon Targaryen*Neighbour

Pairing: modern!aegon x f!reader

Word count: 2785

Warnings: sad aegon, drunk aegon, high aegon, substance abuse, addiction, over dose, hospitals, flirty aegon, mentions of sex, mentions of pregnancy, fighting parents (nothing graphic or descriptive), one bed trope, angst

Masterlist Here

Your stomach tied itself in knots as your parents’ car stopped behind the moving truck. “Ready to see our new home?” your mum asked but your six-year-old legs were already flinging you out of the car to run up to your new front porch.

“Its huge!” You yelled as you barrelled up to the front door, your dad not far behind with keys in hand so you could run inside to go place dibs on your room.

“I pick the back room!” you called as you ran back down the stairs however your mouth quickly tightened closed when you saw the woman in the doorway. You made your way behind your dad’s leg as he laughed, placing his hand on your head.

“This is our neighbour Alicent sweetheart,”

“Hiya, its nice to meet you,” she smiled before glancing behind her and sighing, “Come inside Aegon. Show our new neighbours what we brought,” You grabbed onto your father tighter however your grip relaxed as the nine-year-old blonde boy walked in with a plate of cookies. “Why don’t you give them to the girl?”

Aegon outstretched the plate to you, and you gladly accepted the wrapped-up treats, “Thank you,” you grinned a toothy smile at the older boy who looked like he was itching to get back to the ball he’d been forced to leave behind to come say hello.

-

Aegon was your first crush however as you grew up you realised how wrong that was. When you were 12 and he 15 you became a little bit obsessed with him however you also experienced your first heart break. Your window was directly opposite from Aegon’s and one night while doing homework you looked up to see him kissing another girl. Sure, you were 12 and he barely knew you apart from you being his little sister’s best friend however you were heart broken still.

It didn’t help that the older you got the dumber he seemed to get. You were privy to all his dirty little secrets because he never remembered to close his blinds when him and his friends all shared three beers or when they passed around their first joint. It got a bit better when he went to college however the summer, he came back you had to race to close your blinds nearly every night when he’d bring a girl over.

By 18 you were completely over your crush and desperate to go to college and get away from Aegon. However, the summer before your first and Aegon’s last year of college you spent a lot of time with Heleana at her house.

Alicent had finally convinced Viserys to add a pool in during the spring and it was nice and ready the day summer break rolled around. In preparation you and Heleana had went swimsuit shopping and had even picked up pool games to play with Daeron who was now 7.

Aemond, who was 19, returned the day before Aegon and greeted you with a warm hug and an offer to fetch you a shirt, “That thing barely covers you,” he rolled his eyes as all four of you tested out the pool.

“Perv much?” you joked as you relaxed into the water as Heleana cannonballed in for the seventh time.

“Stay back Aem,” Heleana said as she swam to your side, flinging her arm over your shoulder, “She’s mine,”

You laughed at her joke, even playing into it as you always did, but Aemond scoff, “Don’t worry about me. Its Aegon your gonna have to worry about,”

“Yeah right,” you scoffed back, “he barely knows I exist,”

Heleana rolled her eyes at both of you, “Yeah right. Besides I already told her that if she gets with either of you, I will murder you both,”

You laughed at her, but Aemond decided to swim up to your side to annoy her more, “But what if she’s my one true love?” he dramatically swooned back but you decided to take it a step further and push him back into the water. Aemond came floundering back to the surface with a scowl as you both cackled, “I take it back. You can keep her,”

-

However, what you didn’t realise was Aegon decided to come home a day early and as you and Aemond were sat at the side of the pool, exhausted and wet, watching Daeron to make sure he didn’t drown Aegon was watching you through the kitchen window.

“Holy fuck,” he murmured when he saw you in your bikini, something he didn’t think you even owned. Then again, he also didn’t know that you had a figure apparently cause right now all he could think was oh damn and to make a mental note to burn all your sweatshirts.

However, Heleana had just decided to go to the kitchen for juice when she saw her brothers’ stares. “Oh, hell no,” she snapped, swatting at her brother’s shoulder.

“Hey! The fuck?”

“You are not fucking my friend- “

“I wasn’t going to- “

“Uhuh, keep it that way,” she scowled as she grabbed the jug of juice Alicent had prepared for you all, “I swear to god Aegon if you even try anything I will kill you. kill you dead.”

-

That summer was a newfound torture for Aegon. Seeing you at his house near every day in a bathing suit was a sick twisted punishment from god. Especially since even when you weren’t there you were lounging in your room in a tank top and shorts with the window cracked open. In a way it was payback it was just a shame you never caught his stares.

-

When college rolled around, he thought he was saved but that was until he saw you around campus. Yep, just both of your luck. While you did your best to look the other way anytime you saw him the longer, he saw you around campus the harder it was for him not to stare. Glow up didn’t even describe the change you had. He was mesmerised. So, in typical Aegon fashion he decided to dive into a bottle blondes’ bed and close his eyes pretending it was you on their knees in front of him.

-

One night you decided to kick back and relax. you had just handed in your last assignment before winter break and thought your first frat party would be a great way to celebrate. You and Sansa, your roommate, got all dolled up and headed to her older brother’s frat, Sansa figured it meant at least this way you knew you were both safe since Robb would be there.

The music was already blaring, the drinks flowing like waterfalls, and the dancing was questionable at best. You and Sansa had met up with a couple friends and were half dancing half talking when you felt a strong arm sling its way over your shoulder, “Look who it is!” Aegon slurred in your ear. “My favourite little neighbour,” he said, his drunken hand moving to squish your cheeks.

You pushed him off of you as you turned round while your friends shared a concerned look. Youd never told them you knew the best tight end of the football team after all. “Hey Aegon. You all good?” you asked, eyes squinting when you saw how bloodshot his were.

“Yeah totally,” he said, his eyes searching the room at a million miles an hour, “Hey I was thinking you should- “he started to say, putting his arm around your shoulder again when Robb came over, “Hey man!” he said, leaving your side to bear hug Robb.

“Hey buddy,” Robb said as he pushed Aegon to arms distance, “You are doing, okay?”

“Never better,” Aegon said, his body now swaying. Robb pulled him in, whispering something in his ear with a stern face before helping him to walk towards the stairs.

Sansa looked to you with a disgusted face, “What a riot,” she said, all the girls agreeing with her, “Can’t believe you need to deal with him,”

“Yeah. He’s a good guy though. Deep down I think,” you said, remembering all the time Heleana told you about their parents screaming matches where Aegon would take them into the basement to have a movie night. Or how his father locked him outside after he failed an exam. Hell, you’d seen the sleeping around and drinking get worse ever since Viserys had died five years ago.

Your friends laughing snapped you out of your thoughts. “Ill be back guys,” you said, heading to the stairs to try find him.

As you searched the corridors you knocked on each door and received a “occupied,” called back at you. that was till you got to this door. you knocked but no one replied. Something didn’t feel right though so you knocked again, “Aegon?” you called but there was no response. Something inside you wouldn’t let you leave so you took a deep breath and tried the door handle.

The door slowly crept open, and you felt your skin flush cold, “Aegon!”

-

You weren’t sure why you got in the back of the ambulance or why you stayed at the hospital while the doctors took him back, but you almost cried in relief when they said you could see him. He looked as white as a ghost, his lips dried and cracked, dark red rings around his eyes, as he laid in the hospital bed.

“Aegon?” you whispered, half wondering if he was dead since he defiantly did not look alive.

“Where am I?” he murmured, his eyes struggling to open, “What happened?”

“Careful,” you said, moving to stop him from sitting up. Aegon’s eyes finally opened, and he stared up at you in shock as you sat on the side of his hospital bed, “You’re in the hospital. You had an overdose,” you told him, figuring it was best to tell him sooner than later.

A million thoughts looked like they were buzzing behind his eyes, but he only asked one thing, “Did they call my mom?”

-

Aegon begged you not to tell his family. apparently, he’d deliberately changed his emergency contact to his father’s number when he fell into a coma so that no one would ever receive a call. This of course made you press on how many times things like this happened and you never seen him look so ashamed.

“Let me help you,” you begged, “We can get you into therapy and- “

“I don’t need it- “

“Damn it Aegon!” you snapped, “You’re lying in a hospital bed with tubes coming out of you and you don’t think there’s a fucking problem?” his head dropped, his eyes welling with tears, and you felt your heart drop. You sighed, your own tears building, “I’m sorry Aegon I just-I just worry about you. I want you to be happy and healthy and just- I want you to get better,” you said, reaching for his hand.

Aegon took yours, squeezing it gently but you knew it took way more strength than you could imagine, “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and threatening to break, “for coming to find me. If I was you, I wouldn’t have,”

“It’s a good thing you’re not me then,” you joked, and you saw a tiny smile crack onto his lips, “but the only way I won’t tell your family is if you do something about it. otherwise, you’re gonna leave me no choice,”

-

Aegon took your words to heart and with a little push from you and help from the hospital he had a therapist within a couple of weeks. Turns out when he’s not out drinking and whoring, he’s actually a pretty chill guy. You began to hang out and even when you went back home for winter break, he kept texting you nonstop. While Heleana found it weird her brother was suddenly so close with you, she was also just relieved to see him sober.

Still, you tried to take a step back, but you found yourself weirdly missing him. You ended up going back to college together in his car to save your parents the trip and took turns driving. The whole way you were both scream singing Taylor swift or giving dramatic renditions of Lana del ray songs. Then you realised the sun was setting.

“There’s a motel 3 miles up. Do you want to just stop? I hate driving at night,” you said and Aegon agreed before turning cruel summer back up to full blast.

You both grabbed a couple things out the car before heading into the classic movie run down looking hotel. The receptionist was halfway through her cigarette and the whole room screamed the 60s with faded orange polka dot walls. “Hey, can we get two rooms?” Aegon asked as he fished out his credit card.

She tapped her long red nails at the ‘cash only’ sign before turning to the computer as you know both pulled out whatever cash you had. “Sorry Hun we only half one room,”

You felt your cheeks tinge as Aegon awkwardly cleared his throat, “Is it a twin?”

“Nope it’s a double,” she said as she peered over her glasses at you both, “Is that gonna be a problem?”

Aegon glanced at you but the idea of driving any further as your eyes were barely staying open made you grab his cash and slam it on the counter, “We’ll make it work,”

-

The room was as nice as you could expect. Though you did make Aegon triple check it for murderers as you guarded the door. “All safe. So…” he said, words trailing off as he looked at the bed.

You sighed as you dumped your stuff on the ground, “So,” you said as you plopped on the bed.

“I could sleep in the car- “

“Just get in the bed Aegon,” you sighed as you pulled off your trainers, “I mean we’ve known each other for years,”

He nodded but paused for another moment before asking once more, “Are you sure? Cause I get if you want me to sleep on the floor,”

You laughed a little at his words as you finally kicked off your shoes. “Its fine. Promise. I trust you,” you began to take off your jumper when you realised, he hadn’t said anything, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he said as if snapping out of a daze, “Just can’t think of a time someone said that” he said it like a joke, but you could see in his eyes it wasn’t.

As tempting as it was to make a joke to try lightening the mood you just gave him the best smile you could before excusing yourself to the bathroom to get ready for bed. Aegon went in after you and as he was sorting himself out you took off your bra and jeans and slipped under the sheets in just your shirt.

Aegon came back a couple minutes later as you scrolled your phone. Silently he took off his shirt and you did your best not to stare or even look but it was near impossible. Him slipping under the covers however snapped you out your daze when you felt his almost bare, bar his boxers, legs brush against yours.

You glanced over at him and saw his cheeks tinged a bright pink as he cleared his throat, “You tired?” he asked, staring at the ceiling.

You smiled a little at him. After all it had been you acting like that for years without him ever noticing. “A bit. You?” he just hummed in response. You sighed before rolling onto your side facing him, “Aegon?”

“Yeah?” he replied as he turned to face you, his nose accidentally brushing yours in the process. You could feel his breath fanning your face as his eyes bore into yours. up close you could really see the lilac in them.

You weren’t sure who leaned in first, but you felt his soft lips press against yours as his hands trailed up your sides. Your hands found his white, blonde hair, admiring how soft it was as your mouths mixed. You knew your best friend would kill you if she ever found out but suddenly that didn’t feel important.

-

Dating your best friend’s brother in secret at a university across state was wrong. You knew it, Aegon knew it, if Heleana knew about it, she’d scream it, but you couldn’t stop yourself. Suddenly every waking moment was spent with Aegon. Everything was going perfectly bar the little white lie you kept from Heleana.

That was until the two pink lines showed up in the bathroom.

Part two here

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[tomssexdoll]

rawr

so

bill's being extra mean to us, like during sex, and he forces you to ride him while he's just degrading you like crazy baba

omg fancy seeing you here

Cruel

PAIRINGS: Bill 2010 x Female reader CONTENT: SMUT + FLUFF AT END SYPNOSIS: Bill has always been gentle and kind during sex, sometimes degrading you, but this time it was different. You had asked him to be really mean and degrade you till you cried, and he delivered it PERFECTLY A/N: hi alaiah my pookie poo WARNINGS: dom!bill, sub!reader, p in v (rough missionary and riding), overstimulation, making the reader cry, hair pulling, nipple play, rough kissing, pain kink

"Bill.." I called out, walking softly towards him and resting my hand on his shoulder, he turned around "yes baby?" smiling and kissing my hand softly.

"I wanted to try something, I know you always say no to this in fear of hurting me but.." I sighed "I want you to degrade me and be super rough, I know you're worried but I want it so badly, please?"

He sighed deeply, "fine, but promise me you'll let me take care of you after", I nodded and grabbed his hand, leading him to the bed.

"Take your clothes off, now" he said sternly, I complied with a smirk, slowly removing my clothes, revealing my perky tits and hard nipples and my wet pussy. He groaned and pushed me onto the bed, grabbing my legs and dragging me towards him.

"You're going to do every fucking thing I say, if you disobey I will punish you so fucking hard" he wrapped a hand around my head, grabbing a fistful of my hair and tugging it, exposing my neck to him.

"okay.." I bit my lip, I felt his lips crash into my neck and roughly suck on it, leaving marks everywhere. I felt my pussy getting wetter every time he nibbled onto my neck.

"Please...Bill..fuck me" I whimpered, reaching out to undo his belt, he slapped my hand roughly and tugged my hair tighter "shut the fuck up, I fuck you when I want to so be patient" he growled lowly. This new side to him was turning me on so much, I could cum from him just degrading me.

After 5 minutes of roughly marking my neck and breasts he undid his belt, shoving his pants off and exposing his hard, vieny cock. I winced at the sight of it, pressing my legs together for some relief. He grabbed my legs and roughly spread them again, "don't you fucking dare, I told you, if you don't listen I will punish you" he whispered aggresively in my ear. I nodded and moaned as he rubbed his tip against my clit, teasing me.

He allinged himself with my entrance and slammed himself in, I groaned, digging my nails into his back, enjoying the pain. "Such a fucking slut, enjoying the pain hm?" he taunted, slamming his cock into my pussy over and over again. I moaned loudly and nodded, holding onto his arms as he pounded into me roughly. "Bill! Fuck!" I cried out as he roughly thrusted into my pussy, hitting my sweet spot so harshly. "So tight..fuck.." he groaned, throwing his head back. The sounds of skin slapping filled the room, his moans filling my ears.

He grabbed my hips roughly, letting out strings of degrading words "schlampe" "fucking desperate bitch" "mein eigentum", slamming his cock so hard into me I thought that I was going to break into a million pieces. He leaned down and started to suck roughly on my hard nipples, teasing them. I winced as grazed his teeth over them, making them sensitive.

He let go of my hips to grab my face and smash his lips into mine, with that I wrapped my legs around his waist roughly and dragged him in, passionately moving my lips with his, locking in a rough embrace.

His cock was so deep inside me I was convinced it could come out of my mouth, "you're a fucking whore huh? So desperate, wanting my cock so bad" he chuckled, I felt tears prick at my eyes, his mean words getting to me.

"Yeah, cry like the little bitch you are" he taunted again, ramming his cock so deep into me, fucking me mercilessly. I felt a tight knot forming in my stomach, coiling down to my core. "G'nna cum.." I moaned, rolling my eyes back.

"Yeah cum for me baby, cum like the desperate fucking slut you are" he grabbed my hair and tugged it, tears falling down my cheeks. My thighs shook as my orgasm crashed down, cumming all over his cock. My pussy clenching tightly around his cock caused him to cum as well, shooting his thick cum into my pussy.

He panted, fucking his cum deep into me. "I'm not done with you yet, ride me, now" he demanded, I whimpered as he sat beside me, I crawled into his lap, he shoved his cock back into my pussy, I gasped and tried to stable myself, my legs weak.

"Cmon, I don't have all day" he yelled, slapping my ass cruely. I choked out a sob and started to move my hips, bouncing up and down on his cock, he grabbed my tits roughly and sucked on them as I rode him.

"Mm! Fuck!" I moaned loudly, moving my hips faster, creating a fast pace. He groaned on my tits, licking and kissing them roughly.

My knees became weak and my movements faltered, he noticed and smacked my ass roughly, leaving a prominent red mark on it. I cried out as he pulled my hair again "don't fucking stop, keep going" he snapped bitterly. I nodded and sobbed, slamming my hips into his.

"Cmon schlampe, go faster" he growled lowly, pulling on my hair tighter. My scalp ached from all the tugging, I winced and tried to pick up my pace but I was just too tired and weak, starting to get overstimulated. "Hurts.." I frowned, looking up at him.

"I don't fucking care, you know what? Since you can't do it let me" he groaned "can't even do one fucking thing properly" he grabbed my hips and started to slam his cock into me, I cried out, he started to rub my clit roughly, the overstimulation really starting to show.

I softly sobbed into his shoulder as he pounded into me, tears rolling down his back. "Ow..fuck.." I whimpered, biting down onto his shoulder as his cock painfully stabbed into my g spot. "Shut up, take it" he spat back, slapping my ass harshly. I felt the tension of his cock in my pussy, knowing he was about to cum soon, I felt so weak and destroyed, he continued to slam his cock into me, my thighs trembling and my lip quivering.

"Mm..such a good slut" he slapped my ass again, gaining a yelp out of me. He chuckled and slammed his cock in deep, coating my walls with his thick cum.

He kissed my neck roughly and pounded into me, "cmon baby cum for me.." he started to get softer, I moaned softly and dug my nails into his back, cumming and coating my juices all over his cock once again.

He pulled out and layed me on the bed, seeing the red marks and bruises, he winced and spooned me, rubbing my wounds softly. "I'm sorry baby.." he kissed me softly. "It's fine.." I sniffed, wiping my tears. He turned me around and saw my red, puffy eyes. He frowned and kissed me softly on my forehead "this is why I didn't want to go rough, you're upset" I looked up at him, he was slightly right but I did love it, the way he degraded me made me so wet.

"It's fine..maybe next time we can be less rough" I smiled softly, he nodded and held me close, caressing me sweetle and whispering sweet nothings into my ear. E/N: OK GUYS THIS IS THE ROUGHEST I THINK I'VE EVER WRITTEN HOPE YOU ENJOYED!!

[dwailol]

Want some water?

ComPOUND Round 2 (Do you have a better name? Too bad this is the name)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 🔞

Warnings⚠️: it’s definitely smut, oral (m receiving), p in v, creampie, praise kink, a liiittle rough but not too much

Summary: You’ve got the compound alone with Bucky for a few days.❤️‍🔥 Fem reader x Bucky. Established relationship/fwb. The 400 extra words in this one are just 400 extra words of filth.

WC: 1.7k

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“Want some water before the next round?” he asks raising his eyebrows suggestively. That first one was just a taste of what he has in store for the next few days. He is about to have fun with the fact that the compound is empty besides the two of us.

“Sure thing,” I reply. Somehow I’m thirsty from all his work.

He walks towards the kitchenette while stretching a bit. His back muscles were sculpted and I want to feel them up and down. I want to feel him with my hands and mouth. I unknowingly bite my lip still staring as he’s pouring a glass. He looks up and smirks.

“Caught ya peeking,” he says. I quickly turn away and blush.

“You might have,” deciding to own my peek. I hear his foot steps coming my way. I get under a throw blanket to cover up. He walks up with the water and a bottle of wine but no glasses.

He sets everything down and moves in close, “It’s ok. You’ll catch me peeking plenty of times. Mind if I join you under there?” He swings my legs over his lap and pulls me in closer. I feel his cock hardening under my legs and then a throb - mine and his. He pulls out the cork and sees it’s half empty. I know there is no way we can finish that.

“I didn’t see much else over there, but we can just finish this off right?”

“Thor brought that here and two sips will have you well off. Proceed with caution,” I warn. Having a whole glass knocked me on my ass one night. He glances over the bottle and takes a sip. He looks up at me with a face of subtle surprise then sets the bottle back on the table. I grab the water.

“Smart idea. You weren’t joking about that. I feel a little something and the super soldier thing makes getting a mild buzz hard. Proceeding with caution. Thank you for the warning ma’am.”

Just as I’m about to take my first sip of water he steals the glass out my hand and takes a drink for himself.

“Rude.”

He laughs mockingly then lightly pulls me by my chin to his face to gaze me in my eyes. His hand rests on the side of my face and his thumb glides over my bottom lip pulling it slightly down in the middle before returning to the corner. He brings the glass to my mouth and gives me a sip. He is already completely hard again and I am ready to melt around him.

“Here you go angel. Sorry, you know how I love to ruffle your pretty white feathers,” he moves his hand to trace down my spine, “Besides I always give you what you want in the end don’t I? So tell me, what do you want right now?”

He discards the water and places both his arms around me. I lean in with a soft, supple kiss that’s met with passion. I lightly glaze my tongue barely past his lips and pull away quick before he goes in for more.

“Bedroom.”

He picks me up off the couch and I wrap my arms around his neck to stable myself. I let out the smallest gasp of surprise.

“If it means I get to hear my angel sing again, it’d be my pleasure.”

We begin to heavily make out. Lip bites and quick hints of tongue drive me wild. As he carries me to my room, he makes several stops to push me against the wall and grab onto my ass tighter. We finally make it in and he throws me onto my bed with a sexy amount of force. I want to make his efforts matched. I sit up quickly.

“Here wait.”

Before he can get to my bed I hop off and walk to him. We kiss and then I move my next one to his jaw, then his neck, his chest, his abs, at his waistline. I’m on my knees for him. I hold onto his shaft as I bring my lips around the tip. I look up at him and swirl my tongue around it without breaking eye contact. As he moans, I bring his cock further into my mouth and give him a stroke on my way back. I start in that same motion with added tricks then pick up speed. He pushes my head away.

“Stop that or you’re gonna make me cum,” he lifts me back up then leans into my ear, “and you know where I like to put that.”

I’m thrown back on the bed. I feel my pussy opening up and ready to take him.

“I like how good you’re being for me now angel. You know when you teased me with your tongue earlier I decided that you were gonna get it once I threw you on this bed. You going to be my good girl for the rest of the night?”

He starts slowly sliding into me and I shutter.

“Yes..”

“Yes what?”

“Yes sir. I’ll be your good girl for the rest of the night.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

He pushes the rest of his cock into my soaking wet pussy still lubed up from the last time he spilled into me. I burst out a loud “Oh!” It gets him going.

“How I love to hear my angel sing.”

I wrap my legs around him once he hits a pace that I like. I claw into his back with a drawn out moan. He grunts with the pleasure of knowing he’s responsible for all the euphoric sounds I release.

He breaks free of my legs. Dragging my body to the very edge of the bed, he stands and brings my hips up to take his cock. He thrusts slower but hard and deep. I yell to the beat of him fucking me.

He pulls me up and carries me off with his cock still thrusting into me. He cradles the back of my head before pushing me up against the wall. Our lips are locked as he penetrates my walls. He’s hitting my g spot so fucking perfect. He knows it too when I let out a strained whimper of pleasure.

“Looks like I found the right spot that my pussy loves so much. Touch yourself while I’m fucking you. I want to feel you clench cumming around my cock.”

“Yes sir,” I do as he says.

“Good girl.”

I feel it building up. I hold my breath until I feel that huge rush of blood. Oh god was it so much better at this angle.

“Oh god,” I breathlessly say.

“You talking to god angel?”

He bites at my earlobe and lets out a heavy breath against my ear. It felt like sexual ecstasy. He walks back over to the bed and sets me down.

“Turn over.”

Just as I start to, he flips me over on my stomach so fast I hardly saw his hands coming. The smack on my ass gets a scream out me. I am nearly overstimulated but I know he is expecting more from me. He pulls me up from the back so our bodies are touching. He starts rubbing his flesh hand around my clit, while his vibranium hand embraced me from behind with his fingers holding my neck.

“I get impatient. You know that.”

He drops me back down to the bed. Thank god I have the plushest bed spread or that could have knocked the wind out me. His hand stays on my clit and then I feel him spit onto my now arched cunt. He gets back up straight and I feel his cock start pounding into me. That hand working mercilessly. I’m squealing at the load he was filling me with. I hope he cums in me soon.

“I feel you getting wetter and wetter. You’re close. Are you close baby?”

“Yes sir.”

“You want me to let you cum?”

“I wanna.” He starts rubbing faster but then stops.

“You better ask fucking nicely then.”

“Please! Please! Please let me cum!” He starts giving me what I want. His pace quickens and his hand shakes me to my core. I feel it happening.

“I’m cumming! I’m cumming! I’m cumming!” I yell. As I cum around his cock again I steadily moan. He doesn’t drop pace. I’m about to get the load I’ve wanted so bad.

“All that singing is about to make me cum in you. You want me to cum in you again? You want me to fill you up again nice and deep?”

“Yes please,” I beg. He takes a beat and slaps my ass. That one was gonna leave a hand mark.

“Listen to you talking so nice.”

He’s right back to his previous pace. He gets faster! I’m fucking screaming. I want him so bad.

“You’re getting this full load!” He hits one definitive cumming stroke and coats my insides. He does some victory lap strokes still riding the high of getting to cum inside of me.

Once he pulls out I feel it drip down my pussy then my leg. I start rubbing back at my clit again so turned on by the feeling. He flips me onto my back again.

“Allow me.”

He cups my pussy so his palm is on my clit and his two fingers are inside of me. He starts pumping his hand at a steadily increasing speed.

“My good girl took it all so well. But I want to make sure it all stays in there soaking up your walls. Will that make you happy?”

“Uh huh,” I repeat over and over to the quickening beat he penetrates into me.

“Uh huh.”

“Uh huh!”

“UH HUH!”

He is right about everything. My next orgasm flowers and I pulse around his fingers. We both get what we want. He gives a satisfied “mmm” sound.

The first of the many nights the compound would only have he and I inside winds down. We lay beside each other face-to-face. He lightly glides his vibranium hand up and down my curves. It sends shivers down my spine.

We begin to pass out. As I look up towards my alarm clock I see that I’ve got four hours before it goes off. Fuck.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

If you were to be roommates with any of the NRC boys, who would you wanna be roommates with? Who would you not want to be roommates with?

Ooh, what a fun prompt 😂 I’ll split them into categories and then comment on my reasoning for them! (I’m responding for myself, not for my OC by the same name confusing, I know)

Side note: I know this question was limited only to the NRC boys but for funsies I’m going to comment on Neige, the Dwarves, Chenya, and Rollo who are also students 😂 just at different schools… Let me have this—

Absolutely NOT

♥️ — I would drop kick this kid the moment he starts to mouth off to me 😤 I also don’t trust him to not pollute our shared spaces with Axe body spray. Ace is basic enough to do that.

🦈 — Not a fan of people who flake on me or act fickle. It would be a massive inconvenience if Floyd promised to do something (for example, cleaning or making dinner for us roomies) but didn’t because he suddenly “didn’t feel like it”. I’d be forced to pick up after him or to change my schedule to accommodate, and that can very easily annoy me. Plus, if his own room in the game is of any indication, he doesn’t seem very tidy… @.@

🏹 — Too extroverted. I don’t want to be greeted with his dumb ol’ smiling face or French/j when I come home every day. I’d also live in fear of him watching me sleep at night or him just reciting details about me that he shouldn’t reasonably know (clothing sizes, what I did while I was out, etc.)

👑 — Look, I don’t want to deal with paparazzi or crazy fans following Vil home or something. That’s too much stress for me to take. On top of that, there’s nothing stopping an idiot reporter from printing shady gossip about Vil’s roomie being his secret lover… which could, in turn, attract hate from his followers. Please let me just live without worrying about this.

🦇 — MAN LIVES LIKE A HOARDER 😭 There are other characters with messy rooms, but Lilia literally has tons of miscellaneous stuff everywhere... Living with him also means I have to do the bulk of the cooking or risk playing gacha with my life when Lilia's allowed to be in the kitchen. Not only that, but I'd likely be spooked by him dropping on in at random times of the day--I don't think my heart could take it. Too much trouble for me to deal with on a daily basis.

***Bonus: Neige*** — Same reasoning as Vil. I’m sure he’d be cute and peppy + help out with the chores a la Snow White, but I still don’t want to deal with the stress of living with a celebrity and having to deal with potentially super parasocial fans coming at me just for the association.

***Bonus: The Dwarves*** — … I’m not running a daycare here 🤡

I’ll tolerate them

♦️ — Cater avoids being on my shit list as long as he doesn’t start begging me to be in his selfies and twisted Tiktoks or to do internet challenges with him. I’ll tolerate him if he gives me free food he got for pics but doesn’t feel like eating because it’s not to his tastes.

🦁 — Judging from how Leona has Ruggie doing a lot of his housework 💦 I feel like I'd also have to do the bulk of the housework to make up for what Leona doesn't do... Aside from that, I think I could tolerate his personality pretty alright??? I can force him to play tabletop games with me :v and get free veggies off of his plate... (He can have my extra meat, too much protein makes me feel sick.)

☀️ — With his kind of wealth, I don’t need to worry about Kalim paying his share of the rent and for shared items (in fact, he’ll probably just buy everything for us both) 😭 but I wouldn’t like Kalim always inviting a shit ton of people over to party… Another major con is that he probably needs to be taken care of since Jamil or other servants usually fulfill his every need, and I’m NOT about that. Him paying for everything somewhat balances out these grievances, but I have pride to maintain and I don’t want to 100% live off of someone else’s money.

🍎 — Nothing overtly offensive about Epel immediately comes to mind, but if this is pre-book 5 Epel then I don’t want to deal with his toxic masculinity. I could leech free apple products off of whatever his family sends.

💀 — I just KNOW this nerd would be up gaming late until like 3 am and loudly raging as he does it, but I'm a pretty heavy sleeper so I think I could put up with it (not that I want to, only if I have to). Idia wouldn’t be that much of a bother to me during the daytime (he probably just holes up in his room anyway)... And hey, free gaming partner, tech consultant, and someone to watch anime with (and then we can argue about who the best character is).

⚡️— Sebek is punctual and loud, so he's useful to have as an alarm clock (I have a tendency to sleep in). He can do laundry, move heavy furniture, and (most importantly to me) brew tea, all things which contribute to the household. But I swear, I SWEAR, if he opens his mouth to tell me why I should like Malleus, I'm going to move out ASAP.

***Bonus: Chenya*** — Chenya definitely feels like the kind of roomie that eats the food you left in the fridge and then claims he has no idea where it went (while there are incriminating crumbs around his mouth). His UM also has potential to make me feel uneasy in the same space (like… he could be anywhere x.x). The only reason I’ll tolerate rooming with Chenya is because he’s a cute cat boy.

Acceptable

🌹 — Riddle’s just... okay. I can see myself getting irritated whenever he's being a stickler about certain rules being followed or things having to be done a certain way (since I hate being told what to do). Then again, I'm also a stickler for certain things (like no outdoor shoes inside the house; always wear house slippers instead). If we can compromise and avoid shouting (assuming this is post-book 1 Riddle), that would be great. If it’s book 1 Riddle… yeah, I’m tiptoeing around him and/or he gets lowered into “Absolutely NOT”.

♠️ — Nothing that notable about Deuce or how he lives, he’s just not a very strong contender for what I’d like in a roommate. Phone calls to his mom aren't so long or so frequent that they'd be an annoyance.

🐙 — Pro: Azul does all the math for us when it comes to the bills. Saves me a lot of hassle. Con: he’ll ask for compensation for every little thing he does. It balances out, I guess.

🐬 — As much as I'd love to have a live-in butler, I don't trust Jade for one second to not be plotting something behind my back. Sure, he's polite and does all the usual malewife things, but I never know when this man has slipped a new breed of mushrooms into dinner to test the effects of its consumption on me (BRO DID THIS DURING MASTERCHEF AND I'LL NEVER LIVE THAT DOWN). Jade also seems like the type of roomie to smile to your face but shit talk you when you're not around 🤡 It's fine, I'm a masochist so I'll let it happen/j

🐉 — I mean. He's acceptable as a roommate, but Malleus feels like the kind of person you rarely even see in the apartment??? And whenever he does show up, you're shocked that you've spotted him. That means I'd basically have the place to myself for most of the time, which is great for an introvert like me.

Omg pls

🐆 — Ruggie’s got tons of experience looking after Leona, I’m sure those skills will transfer over nicely to rooming with me. I guess my only concern here would be fighting with Ruggie over small savings (like maybe a spare coin or the last of the leftovers), because we’re both frugal and want to hoard whatever he can get our grubby little paws on.

🐺 — Jack keeps to himself and wouldn’t bother me 😌 Good boy!!

💤 — He’s quiet when he’s awake and/or half asleep (and honestly, what a mood). Silver would be such a peaceful roomie… plus, all his woodland creature friends basically provide free animal therapy. Since Lilia often left Silver home alone while he embarked on worldly travels, Silver’s already got experience in homemaking and a willingness to pitch in.

🐱 — Grim is this high up only because he is cat-shaped and therefore he is basically a Real Cat. He is my pet now. I will feed him and bathe him and take good care of him. If he shreds the furniture or sets it on fire though, he’s being put in time out.

***Bonus: Rollo*** — Listen, think of the entertainment value of this 😳 Rollo would be that roommate that looks very collected and unassuming, but every so often goes on these outrageous rants once his anger is stockpiled and he can’t contain it anymore. I’d sit there listening to him go off about how magic is evil, how we’d all be happier without it, etc. And like… while I don’t necessarily agree with his rhetoric, the complete character shift to being unfiltered and unhinged is just so fascinating to observe. (… Oh yeah, and Rollo would be pretty good at cleaning since NBC students as fastidious about that kind of thing.)

You’re my new best friend

♣️ — If you give me free food then I will love you forever and ever. Trey gives free food. Therefore, I suddenly love Trey. Jokes aside though, I do see him as someone who has his shit together and wouldn’t stir the pot. He’d do his fair share of chores (including the cooking) and doesn’t have an abrasive personality that would make it difficult to be around him. Bonus, I can ask him for free dental hygiene advice and we can geek out about teeth together.

🐍 — Jamil has a similar domestic skillset as Jade, but the difference is that Jamil doesn’t go out of his way to deliberately cause problems or to enable others to act out. If I let him do his own thing and don’t get on his bad side, I think Jamil would be respectful to me as well. I’ll be happy to eat any of his delicious cooking 🤤 and in return, I’ll be his bug slayer—it’s a good deal!!

🤖 — It’s like having all of the household tools you need in one, plus a security system and a new little bestie 😌 I’d trust Ortho with my life 💕 We also save on the food and water bill since he doesn’t need those things to function, just electricity every so often to charge!

[bleue-flora]

You're so right it's so rude of me to forget about Punz

I am sadly sick with silly idea disease right now so I'm spinning the kids getting on the dsmp in my head rn

(First of all, C!Dream immediately glaring at C!Techno and C!Phil when he realizes that you just told the kids everything????)

(He suddenly understands how C!Tommy got like that a lot more)

I imagine the kids would extra love C!Dream (and probably C!Techno but he's terrible with kids and they know from their own Techno that he gets overwhelmed by people quickly) because he has a big cool cape they can hide under. P!Tommy says he looks like batman

C!Dream builds carves a quick room for nap time in a mountain and when someone goes to check on them they find C!Dream passed out and several kids napping under his cape like baby chicks hiding under their mom's wings

(Okay, also silly ideas: P!Punz pointing at C!Dream super excited because his best friend is gonna be the coolest person in the world, P!Sam trying to put on a brave face and protect C!Dream from other adults when he sees he's uncomfortable, any time any adult gets too angry or shouty the kids will side eye them an ask if they need nap time)

Okay that's it *explodes*

P!Punz being protective of c!Dream for some reason is so funny to me. I imagine p!Dream, p!Punz and c!Sam watch all the superhero movies and stuff including The Avengers and Arrow. So even though they were too young to see c!Dream when he was bleeding out into the table, they still put together a rough picture of what happened (lots of scars like Oliver Queen -> torture). But in general I imagine all kids younger than 13 (ya know PG13 lol) weren’t allowed to see c!Dream until he was properly healed and such, so they didn’t get the download on what happened. C!Dream would still be glaring at c!Phil and c!Techno because they let some of the kids see him so vulnerable and more or less told them everything.

Yeah c!Techno is not good with kids but they think his (backup cape - c!Dream refuses to return the one he left in prison something about finders keepers… damn children encouraging him to use kid logic…) cape and pig appearance is so cool. One afternoon Dream indulges the kids and builds a little bat cave in the mountain next to Ranboo’s house. It’s hard work though and eventually he gets tired and in need of a “batnap” forcing some of the younger ones to join him, they snuggle under the warm cape a little closer than is comfortable for Dream but he falls asleep anyways… it’s the first sleep he’s had in ages without a single nightmare. C!Phil and c!Techno make sure no one pounces on the group, p!Tommy does anyways. Understandably, c!Dream reacts badly to a kid attacking him and his baby chicks and ends up punching p!Tommy, breaking his nose. P!Tommy precedes to whine the rest of the day about how both Dreams are his “abusers”… both Dreams role their eyes, making p!Tubbo and p!Ranboo giggle.

P!Punz is pretty proud to have great taste of best friends in both worlds. C!Phil points out that c!Punz actually betrayed c!Dream, so p!Punz decides he shall take over his job as c!Dream’s bff. C!Dream finds it cute and his mannerisms make him miss c!Punz.

Both Dreams flinch at the sound of angry adults even if it’s not directed at them. Whenever the adults get angry p!Techno, p!Sapnap and p!George run off and hide while p!Dream stays put, ready but scared. P!Sam and p!Punz both know about c!Dream’s parental abuse in some manner and automatically go into protective mode whenever p!Dream looks even remotely uncomfortable around the adults. And after p!Sam notices c!Dream acting similarly, he starts taking a protective stance for him too. C!Dream finds it sweet even if sometimes his brain conjures imagines of c!Quackity killing p!Sam in seconds just to get to him, other times be thinks about how it should’ve been the his Sam, the Warden, standing over him protecting him…

[slxt4chriss]

So high school? Pt. 1

Summary:High school was amazing, well after I met the love of my life. Or so I thought. Matt Sturniolo and I were inseparable. Until one night at a party with spin the bottle.

Warnings: SMUT, p in v, angst, use of Y/n, swearing, drinking, smoking, talk about running away and getting married, mentions of the word kill, THIS WARNING GOES FOR ALL PARTS!! A/n: you don’t have to imagine yourself as Taylor swift, imagine y/n however you would like🫶 Enjoy my new series!

“Marry kiss or kill me? It’s just a game but really..”

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“Ok, alright y/n Marry kiss or kill Aubrey Sarah and Jake?” Talia was a fire party thrower so when we were all invited to play kiss marry kill in her living room of course we said yes. “Ok Sarah I’m sorry but kill, marry Aubrey, kiss Jake”

Aubrey had been my best friend since third grade. We met on the softball field after I hit her in the head with my bat, she didn’t let me say sorry but she invited me over for a sleepover. It’s tenth grade and we’re still best friends. Her mom thinks of me as her other daughter, since my own mother isn’t around anymore.

I hated Sarah. We never got along, hence why in another life I would’ve killed her if necessary. Me and Sarah also met during softball. But I had thrown the ball at her stomach causing her to throw up and have to get her stomach pumped. She didn’t invite me for a sleepover.

Talia’s my other best friend, we met in sixth grade. Since then we’ve gone to everywhere with Aubrey and us. We’re the best trio you’ll find. Talia and Aubrey never liked each other but in sixth grade I forced them to my birthday party at sky zone and we’ve been inseparable since.

“Y/n your turn again. Alright kiss marry kill, Matt Chris and nick?” This was easy, well sorta. “Kiss Chris, marry Matt, kill Nick” Nick Matt and Chris were my other friends, we weren’t super close but we’ve known each other since eighth grade.

Me and Matt however have been ‘dating’ since sixth grade. We met on the playground playing hopscotch. My skirt was too short and I got a dress code but Matt said he had extra shorts and since then we’ve been attached to the hip. We didn’t start dating until the end of seventh. He convinced me to go the park and play hopscotch again. And when I fell he helped me clean my knee and told me he loved me. Not as romantic as the movies but I’ve been in love ever since.

Back to the party after a few hours of marry kiss or kill people got bored and left. Now it was just Sarah Aubrey, Me, Matt, and Talia. We were all sleeping over. But Matt had to stay for an extra few minutes since Mary Lou was busy. “Let’s play spin the bottle!” Aubrey shouted waking us from a trance of our minds as we were all sitting watching SpongeBob.

“Oh my gosh yes!” I yell getting an empty beer bottle from the trash can, putting it in the middle of the group. “Y/n that’s gross,” Sarah said curbing next to Matt who had scooted closer to me. “Shut up Sarah,” I said calmly before doing the glass green bottle.

After a few minutes of everyone kissing everyone. Matt had to go. I hated this part, he’s my boyfriend he shouldn’t do this. “Matt what will do if it’s not me?” I ask quietly as the other girls chat. “I’ll air kiss the cheek babe don’t worry” He smiles kissing my pink lip gloss lips reassuringly.

“Can you spin, like today?” Sarah spoke coldly. “Oh my god Sarah patience!” I said annoyance oozing from my tone. As Matt spun the bottle he groped my hand watching the bottle slow and slow right before it came to a halt.

on her.

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A/n: CLIFFHANGER!!🤭, sorry😜. Anyway I hope you emjoyed my newest fic and series ‘So high school?’ Anyway all types of love are appreciated!!! Also this is a kind of get to know the characters and the backstory for the next part that I am working on Dont worry loves. Also if you wanna be tagged comment Love you😘

word count: 517: 2,700 characters

—stay kind stay hot y’all xoxo gossip girl💋

Tags: @hoeforchrizz @chris-hallelujah @gutzfornick

©Slxt4chriss

[tmntxthings]

Hellooo! :P I was thinking of a request for a moment and I thought, what about an overprotective (and a bit of a cry baby) s/o who gets really upset when Donnie visits her in the night all busted up and bruised after a fight with the foot. Extra, he wouldn’t exactly understand why the reader would be so upset, nor does he understand how to deal with it so he would get upset himself. But all the reader wants is their poor Donnie to be okay :( alas, coming to an understanding with some comfort. Doesn’t that sound so cute?! -soft anon ∩^ω^∩

Pain & Understanding

author’s note: yes, super cute, you’ve convinced me c; i hope my dear soft anon that you enjoy ~~~

warnings: fluff, slight angst, hurt/comfort, unedited

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You sucked in a breath as you watched Donatello wince as he climbed through your window.

“W-what happened?!” You exclaimed, looking at the darkening bruises that littered his green skin.

“The Foot Clan, they used a new tactic-“ his hands flared up as he stood straight, “shocking I know. Usually they just charge in, but low and behold an ambush was in store for us tonight.” Donnie’s tone was his usual, sarcasm dripping like a thick syrup.

You didn’t find it funny as he chuckled to himself. In fact you were out of your bed, grabbing his arm and tugging him over to sit down. “Y/n, I assure you, I am fine,” he said and as if it would prove his point he gave you that handsome smirk of his, trying to ease your worried expression.

It didn’t work. Not when you moved your hand down over to one of the dark bruises on his arm. He recoiled, holding back a wince, not wanting to be proven wrong but his pained facial reaction gave him away all the same. “You are not fine,” you seethed.

“Okay, I am 80 percent fine then, which is a high statistic in general, but it rounds up to 100 nonetheless.” Donnie didn’t understand why you were so upset. He got hurt all the time. It was a part of the job. He was bound to get beaten and bruised. He didn’t enjoy it, but it was a variable that was to be expected.

“I don’t care about percentages Donatello. I care about—“ You broke off, shaking your head as you left the room to get your first aid kit. When you exited the room your eyes started to water. Your emotions were spiking, going from the frustration and anger to now being just upset. You breathed in a shaky breath and tried to keep it together as you reentered.

“As you were saying?” Donatello said, watching you carefully as you rounded the bed and set the kit next to him. “I just care about you. I don’t like seeing you hurt Dee,” you sighed, hoping he would understand. But unfortunately for you, he didn’t. “Y/n, logically I can’t return unscathed after every fight. My talents, as great as they may be, do not make me invincible.” He was becoming frustrated too, his eyebrows drawing together as your started applying medicine on his wounds.

“I know that Donnie.” You felt the tightness in your chest again. No, not right now, don’t cry now. “Then why are you so shaken up?” He inquired, hands catching yours. Forcing you to stop for a moment. You had started to move quicker and quicker. “Because!” You said your hands clenched into fists as you realized you weren’t going to be able to hold back the tears. Your face was tilted downwards and Donnie waited for you to continue.

It wasn’t until he felt the tears drip onto his wrists did he move his hands to cradle your face. “Would you like it, if I came to you all busted up? Bloody and bruised?” Donatello pictured you the way you said and he grimaced. Shaking his head, no, he wouldn’t like it either. He’d be worried and so it clicked. “I see,” he sighed and he pulled you in as the sobs started. “Thank you Y/n, for caring so much about me. I promise I shall be more observant.” He held you close, not minding the slight pain of doing so, really it was dulled now. He wanted to comfort you just as you were trying to do.

His promise made you feel slightly better. If only the fact that he now understood your feelings on the matter. “I’ll always care Donnie, so make sure you come to me, even when you do get banged up again.” You sniffed and kissed gently at his neck. He stiffened, not expecting such a gesture but relaxed seconds later. “But of course, there is no better amateur nurse than you!” It was a compliment, at least in Donnie’s mind. You giggled, he was doing his best.

You continued with bandaging him up from his lap. You had tried to get up a few times reaching for the kit or needing another dab of medicine, but he held you close as his robotic arms grabbed everything for you. “Let’s stay like this, just for a little longer..” He smiled down at you shyly once you were finished. One of your hands went up to his cheek. He leaned down and met your lips in a soft kiss.

—————————————————————————

( full picture )

[rynris]

Dungeon Meshi: Thoughts and Impressions

I've been thinking about how quickly I consume media these days and I feel like I've been desperately binging shows in order to keep up with the times. I hope this will be a series where I can thoughtfully absorb everything from a show that made a lasting impression on me and have something to come back to and review. This is more for my own fun and journal keeping - all thoughts are my own musings and can change over time. If there's something you'd like to add, please do! I'd love to hear your impressions as well.

*Minor spoilers below*

Overall Impression

What a well thought out and interwoven story with fairly interesting characters and a great hook/ mystery! I think rescuing Falin as a plot device works really well because the heart of the story is about relationships and everything around it caters to the journey and development of these characters and how they work together.

Cons/ Issues

I still don't really buy the world building, the dungeon idea seems a bit weak, but it's anime, so some plot holes are forgivable. The beginning felt weak, it was hard to buy into the stakes of losing Falin without knowing the characters but thankfully the exposition was rather quick (1/4 of an episode it felt like) which is good. The dragon fight scene seemed a bit off. I felt like the shots were framed too close - probably to emphasize chaos and keep the red dragon mysterious until the final reveal but with my tunnel vision, it felt messy.

Ok one big con is the character tropes. They sort of make up for it in the middle, but it was enough to make me want to stop watching. I've seen these tropes a million times now and am TIRED of it. And there's so much good stuff out there that it's so easy to dismiss shows these days.

Pros/ Love

CHARACTERS! I was surprised to see more depth in the characters and I love how the mysterious were presented depending on the encounters. Thought each scenario were expertly crafted and it didn't feel too forced.

FOOD! Besides the glorious food p*rn, I was definitely taken aback by the later recipes. I didn't expect food to be woven in during some scenarios, but when it was, I was very pleasantly surprised!

At first I thought Laios was kind of unrealistic, but then I remembered that my ornithology prof was passionate about eating every single bird in the world at least once and I was like... this is real. There are DEFINITELY people like this. +1 for the representation!

On representation, I like the potential LGBTQ representation and was surprised the show took that route. The show itself is coded to be super straight so I wasn't expecting it. This is a con, but it does feel a bit like queer baiting or for the male gaze unfortunately.

Later action scenes were good/ interesting.

The pacing between comedy and darkness was well done, Trigger never fails with good comedic timing.

Shots economy is good, I feel like there are not a lot of unmotivated, extra shots, and talking/ dialog/ exposition were all well done. The used the same layout for the exposition scenes from the manga and the added animation punched it up and mode those scenes interesting. - **I'd like to study these scenes in particular more.**

Final thoughts

I think this is a great show to study how you can make a slice of life comedy and weave in some darker themes without overwhelming the audience. A lot of shows usually stay in their chosen genre, or lean very heavily on the dark/ edgy themes. I like how this show isn't reliant on solid world building, but focuses on creative storytelling to keep audiences coming back for more. Overall, the design/ setting feels basic, but it is the creativity behind the idea of monster food and how well thought out every dish is that makes this show shine. The manga and show have pretty good pacing and doesn't linger too long on mysterious or draw things out, dropping enough tidbits and lore to keep you watching/ reading.

TL;DR I think this is one of the better amine series I've seen this year and I love that this show feels refreshing with very creative storytelling. The concept is feels surprisingly unique and original but you do have to commit to a few episodes before it kicks in.

**I only read a few chapters of the manga so my opinion is not 100% and may change if I have time to read more.

[triplesnet]

a gifmaking tutorial would actually be super appreciated :)

Okay, this is gonna get long and it might not be great but I will do my best to make it understandable.

Put under a read more cause we're not forcing anyone to look at all this.

We're gonna make this gif:

First of all you'll need 3 software programs downloaded.

4k downloader (to download videos)

Gomplayer (to get the frames from the videos)

Photoshop (I pay for it but there are other ways)

Some things to keep in mind

better quality video = better quality gifs

if you want videos in 4k you have to download them in MKV format as MP4s can't be 4k.

gifs can only contain 256 colours so gifs with a lot of different colours might get grainy.

if you use low quality videos or upscaled videos they sometimes have duplicate frames which will make the animations look weird, but you can easily remove those extra frames.

tumblr only accepts gifs under 10mb in size so all gifs have to be less than that (photos less than 20mb)

you can put up to 30 gifs/images in one post

ok here we go

Step 1: Download video

Step 2: Get the frames from the video

You will play the video using Gomplayer

Find the part you want to GIF

Press CTRL + G to bring up this menu

I haven't experimented much with there setting but you'll want to choose the place you want your frames to end up so you can find them later

4. Have the Capture all frames box checked (unless it's 60fps then do 0.03). You can capture up to 999 frames in one go.

5. Press "burst capture" and it will start getting the frames (video has to be playing) it will look like this.

6. Great you have your frames.

Step 3. Making a GIF

Open Photoshop

Load Files Into Stack

This will open the folders on your computer so navigate to where you put your frames and select the frames you want by clicking on the first and holding shift while clicking on the last.

3. Wait for PS to load the frames

4. Once it's all loaded the first thing you'll do is crop it. Press 'C' on your keyboard. There are a couple presets you can use or you can 'clear' that and crop however you wish.

I always crop out at least a little of the top and bottom cause there can be dark lines there.

5. Resize: for optimal quality on tumblr there are three sizes to keep in mind.

For sets like this with 3 gifs next to each other the width should be 177p, height does not matter.

For sets like this with 2 gifs next to each other the width should be 268p

And for a set like we're doing today with just 1 gif it's 540p

You'll want to memorise these numbers for future use.

177p, 268p or 540p will be the width of your gifs.

To open the resize menu you press CTRL + ALT + i

Change the width to in this case 540p (p as in pixels)

It will auto match the height to keep the same proportions.

Click OK and wait until it's done.

6. Make sure you have the 'timeline' window up at the bottom of your photoshop

7. Click 'create frame animation' (button might say video timeline but change that by pressing that little arrow next to it)

8. Press the button with three lines in the top right of the 'timeline' window and press 'make frames from layers'

9. The frames will have loaded in in reverse order so open the same menu and click 'reverse frames'

Step 4. Blurring the logo/text (optional)

Since we have a logo in there I will want to blur it but you might not have one or you don't care if there's a logo or text in your gifs.

First we have to make the gif into a smart object.

Select all layers by pressing CTRL + ALT + A

Convert into a 'video timeline' by pressing the button in the bottom left of the timeline window

3. Right click on your layers and click on 'convert to smart object'

4. Press Z to switch to the zoom and zoom in on your logo/text.

5. Press L to switch to the lasso tool and select your logo/text

there should now be a line where you selected.

6. Open 'Gaussian Blur'

7. Click OK

Now we have to get our GIF back to the frame timeline.

8. Click 'flatten frame into clips' using the timeline menu

9. Press 'delete' once to remove the smart object

10. Convert back to frame animation

11. Make frames from layers

No need to reverse this time. But now your logo/text is blurred, as long as it doesn't move but that's a topic for another day.

Step 5: Sharpening

If you didn't have something to blur let's go over smart objects again.

Select all layers by pressing CTRL + ALT + A

Convert into a 'video timeline' by pressing the button in the bottom left of the timeline window

3. Right click on your layers and click on 'convert to smart object'

5. Camera Raw Filter (Optional)

I use this for base editing of colours and the overall clearness of GIFs, it's not made for that tho it sometimes gets buggy. Works best on photos.

Press CTRL + SHIFT + A to open this.

It's best to do as little as possible in here as it can bug out.

I mostly mess with the effects, light and detail settings in here, don't touch the sharpening though cause we will use smart sharpen for that.

6. Smart Shapening

Most people have a sharpening action they use, including me. But you can also do it manually. You can find my actions in here.

To do it manually and make your own settings. This is how you open smart sharpen.

If you use my sharpening action remember it can be a bit much sometimes, in that case hide the second layer

Use an action or mess around to find a sharpening setting that looks good on your gif, usually don't need much.

Now we have to get our GIF back to the frame timeline.

7. Click 'flatten frame into clips' using the timeline menu (I'm low on images to use check the blur section for images)

It might take a minute since it has to process the new settings.

8. Press 'delete' once to remove the smart object

9. Convert back to frame animation

10. Make frames from layers

11. Select all your frames to set the framerate

You can click on any frame for this. Click 'other' and set it to 0,06.

12. Press CTRL + SHIFT + ALT + S to open 'Save for Web'

these are my save settings.

Click save and name and place it wherever you want it saved.

Congrats you've made a gif.

Step 6: Colouring

Now we have a problem cause there's already 30 images in this post.

For colouring I have a psd I use and adjust to the individual set. It's in my google drive you can find it here along with my actions.

If you're making several gifs from one video you'll want to adjust to the first and then copy that over to keep things matching.

We can go more in depth on this but that would have to be a different post since I can't put more images in this one.

Step 7: Watermark (optional)

A lot of GIF makers have watermarks these days as there's a lot of people who repost GIFs without credit. Make your own so people know the GIFs are yours even when posted elsewhere.

Step 8: Post

Post your hard work on your tumblr, use a bunch of tags so people have a higher chance of seeing it.

I hope this post was understandable and clear, let me know if you have any questions and if you want a proper colouring post.

[marrowfrog00]

You Stir My Natural Emotions

A/N: Hi, this is a post I made a while back on my Ao3 and since I'm dragging ass on writing anything new...I thought I'd rest on my barely-there, crusty, dusty ass laurels until inspiration strikes or I put my back into actualizing my idea-rs.

CW: MDNI, Smut (characters are 18+), Mentions of Trauma, Broken Bones, Misunderstandings, Idiots in Love, Quarreling, Canon Typical Violence, Flashbacks, Descriptions of female anatomy, Oral (f receiving), P in V, Protected Sex, Adaptive Sex, Mentions of deceased grandmother, Not formatted b/c fuck that r.n., lmk if I missed anything

wc: 13.9k

Steve’s polo was pasted to his back with the sweat of high Midwestern summer. He glanced back at his Bimmer, parked behind Nancy’s station wagon, more than a little uneasy at the prospect of leaving it on the narrow shoulder of the county road. 

His destination, an unauthorized swimming hole with a somewhat rickety, decommissioned dock, didn’t have a proper parking space. Not like the well kept county-owned lakeside park on the other side of the water. That spot had designated parking but would no doubt be littered with desperate, unadventurous families trying to beat the heat. 

People unlike his friends, who frequented the busted but perfectly functional East shore of the lake. 

He bushwhacked through noxious weeds and nettles, feet seeking out the half-worn path that would take him to the meeting spot. He reached the little bluff, where he had to cut little switchbacks to make it down the hill without breaking his ankle. When he reached the last tree stand he heard the rowdy voices of his friends carry across the shallows of the lake. 

And just in time, too - the polyester and mesh of his swim trunks were chafing him under his Jordache jeans. 

He could see the backs of Robin’s and Eddie’s heads in low seat beach chairs. They were clandestinely passing a flask between them while Nancy and Jon sat on a blanket beside them, Nancy rubbing sunblock on her boyfriend’s shoulders, pausing to push her sunglasses up the bridge of her nose. 

She noticed Steve’s approach, head shooting up with a bright smile. “Hey! You made it!”

Eddie, Robin and Jon’s heads shot up in reaction, each of them shooting him a half-enthused greeting.

“What took you so long, dingus?” Robin crowed, clearly half-tipsy.

Steve scoffed, pulling his polo over his head and tossing it by the cooler. 

“Well, someone called out today and I had to stay on an extra hour and a half at the store waiting for coverage,” he sniped back with no heat. Robin blew a raspberry at him.

“Strip down, Big Boy, you’re wasting daylight,” Eddie shot lazily. He stretched out on his beach chair, limbs quaking at full extension like those of a freshly-awakened cat. His chest was on full display, the white cast of badly-applied sunblock streaked across his tummy.

Steve rolled his eyes - there was nothing if not daylight to waste, the sun smiling at them all meanly from high in the sky.

 He shuffled his jeans down his legs before kicking them in Eddie’s face, who expertly dodged the attack with a guffaw.

Over on the dock, Max and El lay shoulder-to-shoulder on their stomachs, giggling over a glossy magazine while Mike and Lucas hollered off the edge, filling their super soakers from the dock’s edge. Will was buried in a sketch pad, toes dipped in the water.

Steve’s hands were planted on his hips as he did a quick headcount. A force of habit these days. He narrowed his eyes in search of the missing two. 

“Where are Dustin and Teenie?” he asked, noting suspicion in his own voice. The very two people he always had eyes on (if he could help it) were missing from this idyllic tableau. Nancy craned her neck to look toward the lake. 

“They’re in the water,” she said as if it were obvious. “They’ve been in there forever.” 

Steve felt his stomach clench uneasily but tried to school his expression into something nonplussed as he started toward the dock. 

“Why is she in the water?” he muttered to no one in particular, noting the worried pitch in his own voice. 

He saw the four heads of his nearly-adult friends turn toward him in unison as he walked past them. 

Robin chimed in then, through a hiccup “Psh, she’s fine Steven. We reinforced her.”

 Steve ignored her.

Max and El glanced up at him, muttering uninterested twin-greetings to him as he stepped gingerly between them. Will let him scooch past.

“Hey!” came your voice. “Do not shoot water in each other's mouths, this water is stagnant,” you barked. “That’s guaranteed dysentery.” 

“Sorry,” Lucas and Mike responded in unison.

Finally, yours and Dustin’s forms bobbing in the water came into view. Dustin was sputtering and rubbing his face with the hand not holding his own super soaker, clearly having been on the receiving end of Lucas and Mike’s attack. 

You were a few feet away from him, straddling a neon orange pool noodle. 

You were wearing that infernal bikini…the spring green one with ditsy white flowers and an underwire that smooshed your bust into a juicy-looking sculpture shaped by the hands of an unfair, horny god.

 Your hair was damp around your face. Even behind your red cat eye sunglasses, you appeared unimpressed until you caught sight of Steve and beamed at him. 

“Stevie!” you squealed. 

He didn’t waste another moment taking in the sight of you before he shoved off the dock and waded the short distance over to you and Dustin. 

“Hey, Steve!” he heard Dustin greet sweetly. Steve ignored it, leveling his gaze at you. 

“Teenie, what the hell are you doing in the lake?”

Your pretty smile fell at his words. You hesitated a moment before you fixed your face into a sardonic expression. 

“You’re looking at it, Stevie.”

“Your arm, Teenie! Your cast!” 

Steve didn’t notice how every head had turned toward the two of you at his little outburst. At that, you pulled your left arm out of the water, where it had been obscured. It looked like Swamp Thing, dark and soggy, water running off of it in rivulets. Steve saw that it was covered in a black rubbish bag, secured with silver duct tape (plus a derelict shoe lace) at your elbow. 

“It’s sorted, Stevie.” Steve heard conciliation in your voice. “The plaster’s bone dry underneath, ya happy?” 

No, he wasn’t happy.

Frankly, Steve didn’t care who had rigged the dry bag around the cast securing your fractured ulna. If he had, his money would have been on the braintrust that was Eddie and Robin, but who knew with this ragtag group? It wasn't as though the lot of them hadn’t crafted a bevy of improvised weapons and structures and clothing in the past.

Steve’s blood was boiling. He shouldn’t have had to tell you to stay out of the water, you should have just known.

 Yeah, lake day had been your idea, but he’d had a very different design for this day in his head when you’d proposed it.

 He thought the kids would splash around in the shallows while you and him (plus the other four sort-of grown ups) lounged at the water’s edge. 

The two of you would lather each other in sunblock (you with your good arm) and share a beer or two, and he would stare discreetly and shamelessly at your half-naked, prone body behind the safety of his Ray-Bans while some sappy love song played over the boombox and he pretended you were his and he wasn’t tap dancing around his feelings that he'd only sort of started realizing were feelings and-

“Steve,” you uttered sharply, snapping him out of his daydream.

Right. He had been busy giving you the business about reckless swimming. 

“You’re a terrible swimmer on a good day,” he scolded. “You really think you can hold your own with one arm?” he reasoned, gesturing at your form.

You pushed your sunglasses to the top of your head and glared at him, unimpressed. 

Dustin chose then to speak up, mildly. Steve almost forgot he was there. 

“We’re touching the bottom, Steve. We’re being safe, we’re touching the bottom,” he tried with a chord of desperation.

Steve looked between the two of you. A nasty little smirk on your face threatened to emerge. 

“Yeah, we’re touching the bottom.” You demonstrated your point by bouncing up and down on your toes a few times. Steve had to ignore how your boobs bounced with the motion. “And I have this, for buoyancy,” you added, smacking the end of your pool noodle into the water and sending a spray of water into Steve’s face.

Dustin cackled suddenly at Steve’s sputtering. Lucas, Mike, El and Max joined the hysterics shortly thereafter. Will hid a snicker behind his sketch pad.

 It should have broken the tension. It should have been the hard reset on the fun that Steve had almost ruined with his poop-pantsery.

“What about Dustin?” Steve tried then. He was feeling outnumbered here. And a little stupid, frankly. But righteous. Like, how the hell was he supposed to feel when he leaves the lot of you alone for one afternoon and the two (arguably) most vulnerable people are just hanging out with no one to stop you drowning?

Dustin’s blue eyes grew big and confused at the mention of his name. You looked at the young curly-haired boy reflexively.

“What about ‘im?” you shot back.

“He doesn’t have collar bones!” Steve barked, gesturing at the boy. 

Dustin looked a little hurt by the observation, true though it may be. Steve winced a little at his own insensitivity and immediately wished he could walk it back. “Sorry, bud,” he offered. 

Dustin seemed immediately appeased at his correction and shrugged as if to say “no problem.”

You weren’t ready to let it go, however. A mean guffaw escaped from the back of your throat before you replied “Dustin is fine. He’s a very capable swimmer,” you spat. Unlike me, Steve heard you mutter snarkily under your breath.

 You flicked Dustin’s nose lightly and winked at him, and he preened under your attention. All the kids did. You had that way about you, is all. 

Sensing the tension on the water, Eddie, Rob, Nance and Jon were stood up on the shore, looking on with mild concern. 

Steve noticed you noticing them and then you shook your head and declared “Know what? I packed sandwiches and nobody has touched them, so…andiamo.” 

With that, you abandoned your pool noodle and lifted yourself out of the water and onto the dock by your good arm. 

I would have helped her, Steve thought to himself bitterly, watching you drop hard on your knees before getting to your feet. 

He sated his need to help by pushing Dustin onto the dock by his butt, much to Dustin’s annoyance.

A bit later, everyone was seated on the shore, the last of the sandwiches having been polished off. 

The tension had waned for everyone else and the ambient murmur of jovial conversation had returned. 

Eddie was seated at Steve’s side, yammering in his ear about a road trip he wanted to take with you all sometime next Spring.

 But Steve’s gaze was trained on you, across the circle, engaged in quiet conversation with Nancy and Robin. 

You had pulled your shorts on, leaving them unbuttoned over your bikini bottoms. Your oxford shirt with the sleeves cut off was unbuttoned, billowing open down to your navel. The trash bag had been removed from your arm carefully with the help of the tiny scissors on Dustin’s swiss army knife. 

You smiled wryly at some joke that Robin had made. Your face was free of makeup, eyes a little tired, but sanguine. 

“Ya listening to me, Stevie boy?” Eddie asked, cutting through Steve’s haze. 

“Sorry dude,” Steve shot back mindlessly, willing himself to pry his gaze away.

Eddie merely sniggered at his friend’s lack of manners. “That was quite a spectacle the two of you put on earlier.”

Steve scowled at him, knowing damn well what he was talking about, but choosing to feign ignorance.

“Dunno what you’re talking about.”

Eddie was unbothered by Steve’s pretend-game, continuing, “Like, you two guys pitch each other a lot of shit and it's usually good natured, but lately it's been…” Eddie sucked on his teeth as he pondered the right adjective. “Sticky.”

“Ed, man, shut up.”

“Nah,” Eddie said on a deep inhale. “Figure your shit out, Harrington. It’s embarrassing.” Eddie sunk back down into his chair. 

“Teenie Ween’s always been a sweetheart as long as I've known her but lately, you've been bringing out the worst in each other and it's exhausting.”

Steve’s face scrunched up in confusion, pondering Eddie’s cryptic words.

 “I’m sorry,” Steve said absently, though he didn’t know what he was sorry for.

 Eddie just smiled back at him from behind a pair of aviators.

Soon, the sun started to dip and everyone was a little sun drunk and over the day. Belongings were packed and the troupe of you made it up the bluff and through the thicket of overgrown weeds, back to the road. 

(⁠๑⁠♡⁠⌓⁠♡⁠๑⁠)

It was the transportation arrangement that really clinched the awkwardness of the outing. 

Nancy had hauled everyone to the beach earlier that day, sans you. You had been dropped off by a boy called Allen Miles and the mention of his name grated on Steve’s very spine.

Before you and Steve could devolve into another bitching match, Nancy pursed her lips and made a sound declaration that Steve would drive you, Dustin and Robin home.

 Nevermind that her station wagon would still be stuffed to the gills clown-style. And you wouldn’t even have the buffer of El at the ready since she was staying at Max’s house. You fought her on it, too.

“Does dad know you’re staying over with Max?” you asked her, almost pleading with her to give you a reason to pull elder sibling rank on you.

“Yes,” she hissed back at you haughtily. You deflated, knowing that you would be dropped off last. 

Maybe you could pretend to fall asleep during the ride so you didn’t have to deal with Steve alone. 

Looks were exchanged and car doors were slammed before you all set off into the twilight. Robin, who typically called shotty, practically shoved you into the front seat of Steve’s car. You didn’t want to make a scene in light of the day’s events, so you went without quarrel. 

Dustin and Robin droned on in the backseat about…something. You couldn’t have recounted even a smidgen of their conversation with a gun to your head. 

You were focused on Steve next to you, seething. You could feel it coming off of him. 

Your jaw clenched as Robin fixed you and Steve with an exasperated look that you could see in the side view mirror before leaving you with a cheeky adios! 

Dustin took up the mantle of filling the silence but soon enough, you were parked in front of the Henderson residence. 

The boy parried a moment before seemingly deciding he couldn't say or do anything to pop yours and Steve's acidic little bubble. The pair of you watched his mom greet him at the door before pulling away.

The thing was, today hadn’t happened in a vacuum. You and Steve had always gotten along pretty famously as far as your friends and built family were concerned. Certainly enough to make it through a world of unconscionable shit alongside the rest of them. 

But when reality as you all knew it was falling to pieces, nobody had the presence of mind to tune into the frequency that the two of you were on. They didn’t notice the intricacies of the geological formation of your relationship. 

You had materialized - yes! materialized - out of nowhere back in the fall of ‘83. You’d been sucked into the Upside Down from another time and place entirely. The unwitting and unlikely victim of a quantum hiccup twenty years in the future near your home on Nellis Airforce Base in North Las Vegas. 

Your slime-covered, barely animate fifteen-year-old body was discovered and carried out of the Upside Down by Hop. He, in a hazmat suit, you in your ripped, bloodied Catholic school uniform while Joyce stumbled alongside him with Will in her clutches. 

For weeks, you’d been near-catatonic, held in the custody of Dr. Owens while a cadre of shady G-men (plus Hop and Joyce) had tried to piece together your journey.

 You barely registered that you had leapt back in time and ended up somewhere you didn’t know a soul, half a decade before you were even born. 

For you were traumatized and plagued with guilt over the death of another teenage girl. A girl that had desperately wanted to get back to where you found yourself by accident. 

You'd tried pulling Barb off that sticky wall, even though part of you knew she was already dead. Soon, you surrendered to your exhaustion and found yourself glued to the same wall, a grotty vine prodding at your lips, trying to make a home in your esophagus right as Hop and Joyce happened upon you.

Eventually, your body healed and you came out of your stupor. You went to live with Hop. You didn’t have anywhere else to go, and besides which way, the best conclusion that the scientists from the DoE could come up with was that if you were going to go back “home”, it would be the way you came. So you had to stay close by.

 They paid a stipend to keep you fed and kept - you were an investment, afterall. Moreover, you were a liability and a paradox, and this was the best arrangement Owens could come up with. 

Hop got used to having you around, never trying to force the matter of you returning home. In the weeks when you’d lost track of El, you would sometimes stand timidly in front of the towering man until he promised you that you would find her. 

Neither of you could stand the guilt of her being out there on her own. Eventually El showed up and he decided that you would all carry on as though you had both been there the whole time. 

Nobody wanted you to go back home. How would you get there? How would you survive a second time?

You started school in January of ‘84, sticking close to the walls. 

Nancy and Jon felt responsible for you and kept you close. By default, that meant Steve, too. But Steve was suspicious of you. 

You were freaky to him and despite what he’d seen in the Byers house, he couldn’t really comprehend your being there. 

Sometimes, when you were all hanging out, a brand new song would come on the radio - like the DJ would make a big production of stressing the just released single - and then you’d absentmindedly mouth all the words perfectly. 

Other times, you’d say non-sequitur things that would turn out to be quotes from movies that hadn’t been released when you’d uttered them. 

The most unnerving was when Nancy’s father was hemming and hawing at the breakfast table one morning you were all over at the Wheeler house. 

He was pouring over a newspaper article about some sick murderer on the loose, reciting the most sordid details while Karen Wheeler stood at the stove flipping pancakes, scolding her husband for discussing it in front of the kids. 

Suddenly, you paused with your glass of orange juice poised at your lips and muttered the name Alton Coleman with a vacant look in your eyes. Days later, Alton Coleman was apprehended. 

Karen and Ted Wheeler had missed it, luckily. But when Nancy had pressed you on the issue, wondering if you were tapped into some latent psychic ability that you and her could use to fight crime, you'd disappointed the girl by informing her that one of the last things you'd seen on TV before you “leapt” was a documentary about Alton Coleman. And it had only stuck with you because you'd gone over your actions in your last days at Nellis with Owens until you were blue in the face.

Then there was the style stuff. You seemed totally confused about what you referred to as “big, crispy hair,” not to mention your general aversion to spandex and high-waisted jeans. 

You wore your hair with minimal volume, kept your clothes and makeup neutral, toned down, boring. 

Nancy thought it was because you’d been to Catholic school and you were “demure” as she put it.

But Steve had quickly clocked that you thought everything around you was cheesy and dated but you didn’t want to stand out or accidentally make a statement by dressing from your own time. So you dressed like a bland schoolmistress and let Jonathan make you mixtapes because a constant rotation of Top 40 artists eventually set your teeth on edge. 

You stopped telling Steve who the one-hit-wonders were because he was really rooting for Dexy’s Midnight Runners and he got all salty when you told him. 

Nobody tried to meet you where you were at culturally, because all of you were a little worried that if you divulged secrets from the future, it would create some kind of extra rip in the universe. So you kept your trap shut except to say that you didn’t really like your time either and that, really, the ‘80s weren’t so bad in some ways. 

Plus, you practically drooled at the sight of Eddie Van Halen and Mickey Rourke whenever you got the opportunity. They were so hot, you'd lament in a pained wail at the TV, as if you weren't living in the very time in which they were dropping your panties. 

Steve rolled his eyes every time you did this. Little Miss Catholic School swooning over rock stars and greasers. How original. Your crush on Spock from Star Trek…Well that broke up the cliché a little.

Steve slowly started to feel more at ease around you, distracting himself with his romance with Nancy. 

And you started to branch out, making friends outside of the people that knew too much for their own good.

You started wearing acid-washed denim over bolder colors, teasing your hair a bit, adopting high-waisted jeans (which made your ass look delectable, Steve grudgingly noticed - as did Allen Miles, apparently). 

You were still on the shy, mild side, but you weren't such a wallflower. People knew you by face and name now. 

Steve thought being from the future made you naturally more magnetic or something. Like you were always two moves ahead of everyone. That made him kind of nervous, though, so he still watched you in his periphery.

He told himself it was to make sure you didn’t slip up and involve anyone else in your freakish situation. He’d watch you in the cafeteria, the courtyard, laughing with your small circle of casual pals, looking for any indication that you were spilling your guts and making yourself look like a headcase in the process. 

Best case scenario, you’d wind up in an asylum or something. Worst case, you’d end up in a gulag with electrodes inserted in every square inch of visible flesh. Months of his low-key recon suddenly became moot the night of the Halloween party in ‘84. 

Steve had just had his heart crushed by Nancy in a spectacular fashion, when he pulled over on his way home.

He was trying to stave off waves of fresh pain in his chest, sat at the wheel of his car, gulping air, willing the sting of rejection to sink to the depths of his loafers. Toto’s Africa provided the soundtrack to his misery.

He startled at a gentle rapping at his window. He looked up to see you, haloed in the streetlight, wearing a copper lamé dress with a high split in the leg and a dip at the shoulder. Your eyes were smoked out, making your confused glare even more intense. 

Possessed Dana Barrett, you’d explained, offering him a bite of your candy apple. He refused it, so you chucked it out the window into a storm drain, licking your sticky fingers. 

You'd taken Nancy's little brother and his friends trick-or-treating and they'd cajoled you into being Possessed Dana Barrett to round out the Ghostbusters cast. You wanted to be Slimer but you didn't know how to pull it off on such short notice, and Joyce Byers had loaned you this gown from the days of disco, and why was he so long in the face, anyway?

Steve was just desperate enough to ask you to hang out at his, which turned into a request for you to stay over at his. He'd never had his heart broken by someone he’d chosen, and part of him wanted to hide. 

But he knew going home to his empty house and the silence would taunt him. You went along with it easily. You almost didn't even seem confused as to why he was asking you. 

You washed your face and used a spare toothbrush he had. The sleeves of the pajama top he'd long since outgrown still reached past your fingertips. He'd stared at you as you rolled them up your forearms, one leg crossed over the other, hanging off the edge of his bed.

It felt strange but comforting and he allowed himself to wonder if he'd ever get to see a lover or even his wife do those same dainty motions in a bigger bed. In a shared bed, one day. He wondered if he'd remember the sight of you, right now.

You and him were laying in his bed, top and tail - platonic 69’ing, you'd joked, immediately clearing your throat when Steve didn't laugh -, when you broke the silence telling him, “Talk to her. In a couple days. She was drunk, Steve, she didn't know what she was saying.” 

He had to remind himself that you were talking about him and Nance.

“She was hurtfully clear about it,” he retorted. A beat passed before you offered an anecdote about your first time getting drunk at a Christmas party on base. 

You'd snuck a bunch of drinks with some other Air Force brats throughout the night before loudly declaring to a room full of military families that you were going to invent the hoverboard from Back to the Future. 

Steve didn't know what Back to the Future was and you quickly corrected course, telling him to get some sleep. 

That was the night the two of you became something like friends. 

The next day he woke up with the red painted toe nails of one of your feet lodged in the crook of his arm. He didn’t hate it. 

Mere days later, after you'd blocked Lucas Sinclair’s body with your own and gotten Billy Hargrove’s backhand for your trouble, after he'd watched you clutch the Mother Mary medallion around your neck and recite whispered, rushed prayers to a god you scarcely believed in in the back of an abandoned school bus before fighting otherworldly monsters alongside him, and going back into that hell mouth because you'd been down there before and couldn't let the rest go in without knowing what they were up against…

Steve felt ready to let Nancy go. 

He still cared for her, he still didn't like how it ended, but his world felt bigger and less stifling now. And he didn't need to hold onto the last dregs of something that would stay just that…dregs. There were possibilities all around him. He didn't want to cling to someone that didn't want him back.

Yours and Steve's friendship was quietly strengthened over two more reality-rocking apocalypses. One of those included his initiation to the Back to the Future franchise. “Ooooh,” he'd loudly declared in the theater, finally understanding your reference while off his face on Russian truth serum. You’d looked over at him with bleary eyes, shooting him finger guns, grateful for the vindication.

In between, and after the mall fire, there were lots of jokes, cookouts, Midwest adventures and plenty of heretofore platonic 69ing in his bed. Top and tail sleepovers followed by rote, cozy breakfasts at the county’s diners. 

You would mewl a miserable sleep song on those mornings until he reminded you of the very existence of French toast.

 Sometimes it was just the two of you, sometimes your friends joined. But it was almost agonizing in its closeness and familiarity. And it grew out of the impossible.

A shrink could have told Steve that the bitching between the two of you that occasionally oozed to the surface like liquid rock was a trauma response. The shrink would have gone on to explain that Steve was projecting his fears onto you because you were an easy target. You'd experienced it together and he had access to you. And Steve would need to find another shrink because he'd know they were only half-right. 

Yes, you'd become fixtures in each other's lives and had shared experiences out of the ordinary. But the same could be said of Robin or Dustin or Eddie, etc. and yes, he mother-henned them all, but when it came to you, he couldn't be talked out of it. Because as important as Robin or Dustin or Eddie, etc. were to him, it was your ass that he couldn't seem to crawl out of, and it annoyed you as much as anyone else.

You'd been very sweet and mellow about it up to this point, but things were getting confusing between you two. Hence the pool noodle incident and passive aggressive defiance.

You started buttoning your shirt up just for something to do with your good hand and after a prolonged and uncomfortable silence, Steve spoke. “Allen Miles,” he said simply.

You stopped at the top button of your blouse. “Allen Miles,” you parroted back.

You saw the tip of his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth. “Allen…Miles,” he tried again, testing the name on his tongue.

You picked at your cast, tracing the well-wishes in Robin's loopy chicken scratch with your thumb. “Is a person that exists,” you said flaty, as if to staunch whatever shit was about to come out of his mouth next.

“Allen Miles is a douche-dick,” he sing-songed quietly enough that you could have pretended not to hear.

Unbelievable. You sniffed at the insult. “What'd Allen Miles ever do to you?”

“Why'd he give you a ride today?” he asked, dodging the question. “You could have piled in with everyone else.” Ugh. He sounded like Hop.

The simplicity and faux-calmness of the statement took you aback. Was he for real right now? “He works at the rec center on Saturday mornings and I had physio-therapy there today. He offered,” you countered, trying not to sound as defensive as you felt - though the words came out in a rapid stream almost as if they’d been rehearsed (they weren’t). You bit the inside of your cheek. An argument was a-brewin.’

Steve turned off the narrow highway onto the skinny, heavily-wooded trail to the cabin. He was seething and neither of you knew why. “So he waited for you to get done with PT?” 

“No,” you shot back, not fully understanding the anger under his line of questioning. “His shift ended a half hour after I was done. I waited for him.”

A scoff. “He made you wait for him?” He posed the question as if it was the most distasteful thing he could imagine.

“He didn’t make me do anything! He didn't have to drive me in the first place!”

“Well then why didn’t you come to the store! If you were waiting for a ride, you could have waited for me!”

“That would have taken hours! What is your problem?”

“Just-” Steve took a deep breath, flicking his gaze to you briefly as the Bimmer trundled down the beaten path to the cabin. “I just wonder about Miles, ya know? He’s a little sleazy around you, what if he just wants to get in your pants? What if he’d-”

Steve was the Larry Bird of cutting himself off, apparently.

“What if he’d made a move?” you offered.

“Exactly,” Steve said, pointing at you.

“What if he had?” you questioned honestly.

The cabin came into view, mercifully, only a moment later. Your head was swimming. Steve had been acting so short with you the last few weeks. It had ramped up when you’d broken the arm.

It was a stupid accident, really. Max had begged you to take a run on the skateboard, something you’d never done. She’d egged you on and you’d done it and you’d gone flying over a stop skid in the church parking lot. 

She had to run into the church and have the secretary call you an ambulance. In hindsight, you were lucky you hadn’t broken your face open. You knew when to take a W, so you didn’t dwell on the possibilities too much.

Steve had heard you were in the hospital and had a conniption. Granted, he hadn’t stayed on the phone with Max long enough to hear It’s just her arm, she’s fine. 

You’d been hopped up on morphine and called him a fruit loop for getting his panties in such a twist. 

And ever since then, you two had been walking a razor’s edge. Where it had once been easy to diffuse your little tiffs, you seemed to be perpetually living under one another’s skin. 

Steve threw the car in park and whipped over to face you. “What do you mean what if he had?” You did not appreciate the falsetto that his voice had taken on to impersonate you. 

“I mean what I said, Steve! What is your deal?”

“He could be a total dirt bag, Teenie!”

You sighed to yourself and pinched the bridge of your nose. You were suddenly so tired. “He didn’t make a pass at me, Steve. He was very sweet and cordial and I got there in one piece and I really need you to back off right now, please.”

This was it. This was your limit. You wanted to crawl out of your skin. You huffed quietly to yourself before telling Steve “I need you to not talk to me for a while, okay?” And at that, you grabbed your bag from between your feet and got out of the car.

You heard Steve government-name you before you closed the door and skulked toward the cabin. The tears came fast and you were grateful that Steve didn’t follow you. Instead he gripped his steering wheel and internally scolded himself for everything that had just transpired. 

Steve knew he wasn’t always the brightest, but how? How did he always end up shooting himself in the foot? He chanced a look at the cabin and lingered for a moment after he saw the light in the mudroom off the side that served as your sleeping quarters had turned on. 

He gave more than a passing thought to going in after you, but he wasn’t going to fuck it further by pushing you when you’d explicitly asked for space. Plus, he was chastised, but he was still fussy, and he didn’t fully trust himself to not keep digging this hole deeper. 

After a moment, he gathered himself and left the property, turning up the radio and letting Talk to Me by Stevie Nicks rub the salt in as he made his way back to his empty house. 

Inside the cabin, you watched Steve’s headlights disappear as you wrestled your Detroit Red Wings jersey over your cast. It was the only sleep shirt that you could get over your cast at the moment. 

Your tears had subsided, slurped back up into your tear ducts for the sheer fact that you didn’t want to waste anymore tears on Steve Harrington. 

He probably didn’t know it, the beautiful dolt, but over the years that you’d known him, he’d kept pushing on the same bruise, and it had gotten even more difficult for you to cope. 

He'd gone for the throat harping on Allen Miles, whom you were not interested in like that. Steve's over-the-top paternalistic revulsion at the thought of you getting some hurt your feelings and made you feel like he'd only ever see you as a fragile little sister figure that he needed to coddle. Like your having sex was some kind of aberration. 

Having him treat you that way with the way you felt about him twisted your heart.

You were tired of having a big and important part of you ignored. A part that you’d never talked with anyone, especially Steve, in great detail. The sexual part. The (gag) sensual part. You were eighteen going on forty-eight, already whinging internally about how you were a woman™ dammit and you had needs™. 

You weren’t seasoned, by any means. You’d had a handful of secret fumbles with secret partners and you’d made discoveries about yourself. 

A of all- and this one you’d suspected since puberty hit - you got turned on easily. Like sloppy, soppy, pushing down on your vulva like you were hiding a boner turned on. And for no reason.

Sometimes it happened when you saw Eddie Van Halen on MTV or Mickey Rourke in Rumble Fish or LeVar Burton on the cover of TV Guide. 

Sometimes it happened when you had to go to a stupid school spirit assembly and had to look at boys in their stupid, short basketball shorts and/or girls in their cheerleading regalia. 

Sometimes it happened when you watched Eddie’s band practice in Gareth’s garage and saw the young Munson trash around all sweaty, handling his guitar expertly.

Once, it had happened when you saw Robin throw a balled up Dixie Cup into a bin at a considerable distance and she’d celebrated excessively and it was cute. 

You knew you didn't want to fuck Eddie or Robin -it would be weird beyond weird. It's just that you could appreciate them.

The same way you appreciated the nasty smacking noises Nancy and Jon made when they were making out in what they thought was a private moment and you knew they were gonna bang later. 

Your friends did sexy things, and sometimes it turned you on.

Mostly, though, it happened with Steve. At least once a day (usually more), he did something that accidentally got you going. A hand on his hip, and hand through his hair, a smirk, a wink, a smile, a whisper in your ear, a casual touch on the small of your back. 

This was to say nothing of how he made you feel emotionally. How unguarded and at peace you felt when he was around. How physical closeness felt as natural as breathing, and you were not hugged enough as a child, so that was saying something. 

Sometimes you'd give each other long lingering hugs and it made you wish you could fuse your flesh to his. You wanted to be his Kuato, always melded to his tummy. And you knew it was weird but so what? Nobody needed to know.

B of all - you liked being touched. And snogged. And railed. And held tight. Which you discovered on your own and in secret, no thanks to Steve. Because Steve usually had a squeeze waiting in the wings somewhere. 

And even when he didn’t, he was preoccupied either with healing from his first great heartbreak or pondering how to rebound from said great heartbreak. Despite your raging hormones, you knew you wanted nothing to do with either of those. So you outsourced your sexual energy.

As soon as you'd gotten over your hangups about the cheesy, neon, teased to high-hell vomit pile that was the 1980s in America, and you'd leaned into it just a little bit, you started getting noticed. And you discovered, thanks to Francis and David and Chelsea (separately), that you did not just enjoy sex in theory, but also in practice. 

The kicker, though, was that while you physically enjoyed the sex that you’d had, you realized when you were coming down from the high that something might be missing. You could have an orgasm that you felt in your very boots, but you wouldn’t ever ask the person that had just rocked your world to drive you to the airport or buy you French toast, much less trust them with your heart. 

Your stupid, stupid heart. It beat for a boy that seemed to think you had the sex life of a castrato.

You flopped down on your bed and stared at your ceiling. You felt kind of bad brushing Steve off like that, even demanding that he not talk to you. 

You hadn't chanced a look back at his face when you'd left his car, but you knew you would have seen that hardened, confused look that he got when he was hurt. That look that always crushed you and made you want to kiss his face and whisper sweet words until he broke out into that cocky grin of his.

You rolled over and closed your eyes, wishing he was next to you, that you could feel his weight and body heat, that you were holding him by the crook of his elbow and pressing your face into his bicep. That you could somehow transmit your thoughts without speaking them out loud and that he would at least be gentler with you and not infer that you were sexless anymore. Even if he didn’t want you like that.

You settled into that lukewarm fantasy, of the memory of him, and let yourself drift to sleep.

(⁠๑⁠♡⁠⌓⁠♡⁠๑⁠)

Steve was sitting on his floor leaned against his bed, holding one of his most prized worldly possessions. It was a candid Polaroid of the two of you.

It was taken at the fair last year. It was a little overexposed with the lights from the rides surrounding you, but the figures of you two were clear as day.

In the photo, Steve was holding your wrist to his chest with a crooked grin, mouth poised near your ear. It looked like he'd just whispered something to you. Your head was crooked to the side and down, like you were trying to worm away from his grasp, your eyes closed with the intensity of your laugh. Your face was glowing with the fair lights and there was a streak of white on your cheek. You both looked sublimely happy.

Steve smiled at the memory. You'd made a game of forcing bits of funnel cake into his mouth when he wasn't paying attention when finally, he'd caught you before your next “attack” and smeared powdered sugar from the pastry onto your cheek as revenge.

His first thought when Jonathan had presented him with the memento at the end of that night was that he was looking at you like a boy in love and he wondered how many times he'd been caught looking at you like that, without photographic evidence.

The bitter memory of you telling him I need you to not talk to me for a while roared back into his consciousness and slapped him in the face. You'd sounded hurt, on top of being pissed. 

Did you really want to date Allen Miles? You said he hadn't made a pass at you. Did it hurt your feelings because he didn't make a pass at you and Steve had just dug the knife in more? He'd throttle Miles if he'd hurt your feelings. Fuck that guy.

Or were you worried about Steve's opinion of your choice in boyfriends? Was Allen your type? What was your type? He knew Eddie Van Halen and Mickey Rourke and LeVar Burton were your type but that weird trinity did not clarify things for him.

Steve tried to recall what, besides his shortness with you, could have triggered you to react the way that you did. By now, he knew that whatever it was, it was his fault. He would love to pawn the blame off on you but you were usually blameless, especially to him. You were sweet and gentle and always seemed to anticipate and prioritize other people’s needs at your own peril. 

He'd given you space like you asked but it had been a couple days now. He was starting to feel like he was jonesing. 

He was hoping you would have come to visit him at the video store by now, jumping on his back and hugging him like a koala, whispering in his ear that all was forgiven and things could go back to normal, like how they were before you'd broken your arm.

But when Steve thought about things going back the way they were, it made his brain itch. He felt like something was totally different and the two of you couldn't go back if you wanted to. Moreover, he didn't know if he did want to. He wanted…

Steve's thoughts were interrupted by the phone ringing. He slid the Polaroid of you two back into his bedside drawer and hastily picked up the receiver. Please be her, please be her, please be her. 

“Hello?”

“Steve?” 

Nance. “Nance?” Fuck it all. Steve bit back his disappointment. “What's up?”

“Is Teenie over at yours? I tried to call her but El said she's not home but she's not working today, either. I know Robin was scheduled at the store today. I thought she might be with you.”

Steve's jaw clenched involuntarily. Were you with Allen Miles? 

“Um,” Steve said with a little choke. “No, no. She's not here. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything's good. It's just that I was emptying the cooler and I found that Mother Mary medallion she always wears? It must have slipped off her neck. It was her grandmother's and I thought she might be bugging out thinking it was lost forever and-”

“I'll come get it,” Steve interrupted. He was already pulling his sneakers on. “You gonna be home for a minute?”

“Oh.” A pause. “It's no big deal, Steve, I'm running Mike to the cabin tomorrow, I can just drop it off then.”

Steve was pacing now, thinking he might be losing his line back to you. You did love that necklace even though you'd abandoned the Church forever ago. Your grandmother was the only person from back “home” that you were sentimental about - and she'd died not long before you'd ended up here. 

That necklace was the only tangible piece of your former life that you really cared about. Maybe you'd be more inclined to listen or even share oxygen with him if he brought it back to you.

“Uh, it's cool. She actually left her uh,” Steve began, looking around the room then down at his feet, “uh, her shoes, yeah. She left them in my car when I dropped her off the other night.” Lie.

He heard Nancy laugh, a little disbelievingly. “She left her shoes in your car.” It came out as a statement.

“Psh, yeah. They were all sandy from the beach and she hates the feeling of leftover sand in between her toes.” Half lie. You had told him that, once. “Anyway, I'll be by in like ten.” 

“Ste-”

Steve dropped the receiver back in the cradle and made a mad dash for Nancy’s. Nancy was waiting for him on the front step when he arrived. When she dropped the necklace in his waiting palm, he held it gingerly and stared at it like a holy relic.

Nancy cleared her throat. Steve met her eyes and he could see something like suspicion dancing behind them, along with a little smirk. “You better go find Teenie. Poor girl’s walking around without shoes, afterall.”

Nancy was always too smart for her own good - or anyone else’s for that matter. He thanked her as if she’d given him the world and went on his merry way. 

(⁠๑⁠♡⁠⌓⁠♡⁠๑⁠)

Steve decided to make a pitstop back at his house instead of going right over to yours. He’d been planning on going to the cabin and waiting for you if you hadn’t gotten home yet. 

But after he left Nancy’s, he thought that this might not be the move. You were really mad at him and he wanted to show you that he could listen and respect your wishes.

He spent a good twenty minutes pacing around his living room trying to come up with a gameplan on how to return your necklace without ruffling your feathers further. 

Maybe he should buy you an obnoxiously large teddy bear? 

No, if you hated it, he would be stuck with an over-large, cutesy reminder of his failure. 

Or maybe he could hire one of those dorky barbershop quartets to show up at work and sing you a song about how he knew he was a dipshit, but you meant so much to him, please take him back?

 No, no. You would die of embarrassment and probably haunt him for the rest of his days. 

He was still holding your necklace, gripping his hair by the roots when he heard the doorbell. 

Maybe it was Dustin or Eddie. Maybe he could bounce some ideas off them, he thought as he jogged toward the door. 

He opened it and felt the air leave his lungs when he saw you standing there. You were staring up at him, eyes wide, swaying your shoulders a little bit the way you did when you were nervous. 

You were wearing his favorite dress of yours. This beige thing with tie straps and red flowers on it. The first time he’d seen you wear it, you’d been all dolled up in a way that was almost salacious. Now you wore your hair down with barely a stitch of makeup on and Steve thought you looked…

“Hi,” you said shyly. 

“Hi,” he said back, his voice sounding small in his ears. He cleared his throat, hoping that if he found his voice again, he wouldn’t sound so broken. “Come in?”

You didn’t hesitate, thankfully. You walked past him, minding your cast and stopped in the foyer before you turned to him. You shrugged one shoulder bashfully. 

“Nancy said you had my necklace.” Your face scrunched up in confusion. “Also, something about shoes?”

Steve pushed the door shut and walked over to you. 

“Uh, yeah, I might have lied to her and said you left your shoes in my car so I’d have an excuse to take custody of your necklace.” 

The confusion on your face deepened. 

Steve held your necklace out to you and you let him drop it into your good hand.

You both stood there for an awkward moment. “I missed you,” you said.

Steve felt his heart soar and opened his mouth to respond but you cut him off. 

“Will you help me?” you asked, holding up the necklace and then your cast to make your point. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve said, rushing to your back. You handed him the necklace and bunched your hair up in a fist, holding it out of the way. 

Steve took a moment to appreciate the back of your neck, the downy hairs at your hairline, the little birthmark at the junction of your shoulder. He looped the necklace around you and clasped it, checking that the spring in the clasp was still sound.

“All set,” he said. 

You spun around to meet him and he saw you touch the pendant at your decolletage with a little smile. “Thank you.”

“I missed you too,” Steve rushed out, hands shoved in his back pockets.

The look you gave him back was soft and dazed and he felt his heart kick in his chest. You cocked your head at him. “Why were you so upset about Allen, Stevie?”

Steve didn’t detect even a hint of anger in your question. You just kept staring at him softly. Steve walked over to the couch and perched himself against the backrest. His thumbs rubbed dual patterns on the suede upholstery while he thought up a response. The best he could come up with was “Do you like him? Allen, I mean? Like…romantic-wise?”

He glanced up at you bashfully, dreading the answer he was sure would come.

Your eyes narrowed, but not meanly. You walked over to him and planted your hip against the couch next to him. 

“No,” you said, simply.

Steve released a relieved exhale from deep in his chest. You weren’t done, though. “But Stevie, why…I mean why did you get so mad at the thought of Allen and I together?”

Steve felt his eyes bug out but tried to school his expression into something less obvious. He shrugged when he finally met your eyes again. “Teenie, I just.” He wet his bottom lip. You wore the same soft, contemplative expression but he thought he could see your breathing kick up as you waited for him to finish. 

Steve was right. You were trying to stop yourself from hyperventilating. You hadn’t come over here to confront Steve, not really. You really just wanted to see him again and figure out what he was playing at, purloining your necklace from Nancy in an obvious attempt to get back in your good graces. It would have been a cute gesture if you weren’t so worried about what was coming next. 

But two days of feeling like your brain was leaking for its singular fixation on your Stevie and how much you missed him had finally gotten the best of you. You came round the moment you could. You knew it was time to face the music, come what may. 

“I just want…whoever you hang out with or end up being with…I just want them to treat you with respect. And I want you to have fun and feel safe and…”

God, he was beautiful. Didn’t he know? How could he not know?

Steve seemed to be at a loss for words now, so you offered some.

 “I could have those things with you,” you breathed out almost dreamily.

Steve's eyes went wide again and you felt like your heart was going to break because that look could have meant…so many things. Not all of them good.

You backed away from his side slowly, ready to make a break for it, but Steve caught you gently by the upper arms and stood at his full height. He stared at you like you were a brand new lifeform.

“Teenie?” he said in a too-tiny voice.

You were looking right into the void, free-falling into the hinterworld of your own heart.

“Stevie, do you think of me like a little sister?”

Steve's eyebrows shot up with something like horror before he cleared his throat and shook away some thought known only to him. 

“Ew, no, Teen.”

You bit your lip and stamped your foot just a little bit, feeling a little unmoored. You worried suddenly that you wouldn't get the answers you wanted. 

Steve had loosened his grip on you just a smidge. He was absently stroking your arms with his thumbs.

“One of the kids then. Dustin or Max or-”

“No,” he answered immediately, shaking his head decisively. “No.” 

And you knew. You knew he meant it.

You backed away, feeling singed by his sincerity. You paced the length of the runner behind the couch and slid a nail along your cast making little zipzipzip noises to fill the quiet. You turned to him after a moment.

“So what's happening with us. Why are we being so weird with each other?” 

Steve put his hands on his hips. “You broke your ass, Teenie,” he said sternly. “It could have been your head!”

“It wasn't though, it wasn't my head!” Your voice had a desperate edge. “Way crazier stuff has happened to me, to both of us! All our friends…”

He looked at you like you were speaking a different language. He shut his eyes tight like he was willing the memories away. He gathered himself quickly.

“Right, and if things had gone differently, we don't know what could have happened!”

Both of you were breathing hard, tears stinging your eyeballs. It's like you had awoken a sleeping beast by merely mentioning its existence.

Steve gestured into the air and stared into the distance as he continued. He was so fuckin’ pretty, you thought then. Even when he had big fuckin’ feelings that his pretty fuckin’ self couldn't contain in his pretty fuckin' meat prison.

“Every time something happens to you, it's like I can't stop thinking about it.” Steve's tented his fingers at his temples to demonstrate his point, eyes wide and unblinking like there was a movie playing behind his eyes that he couldn't look away from.

You started taking slow, tiny steps toward him, like he was a wounded rabbit and you didn't want to frighten him off. You wanted to hold him. 

“I spin out and I can't stop thinking about you dying.” 

Two more tiny, furtive steps toward him.

“Or being born.”

“Oh, Stevie-” Wait. “Wait, being born? What?”

Steve had pulled at his hair and it was messy in that perfect way. 

“Your birthday, Teenie.” He said it both frantically and like you were dumb for not following. “It's 1986, your birthday is less than two years away and we don't know.” He practically whimpered your name, willing you to understand.

It hit you then. You'd forgotten yourself for a minute, how absurd your life was. The very thing that was whispered among your friends and found family - spoken in a hushed manner for fear of speaking it into reality (or causing you an existential crisis.) You always heard them, though. 

You had almost…almost found it funny how nobody seemed to think that the thought didn't cross your mind at three in the morning most nights.

The question of what would happen when the day of your birth - the one on your original, undoctored birth certificate that you'd left in a banker box back on Nellis AFB - finally rolled around. The day you would find out to what extent you were an actual paradox. If having been evicted from your mother's womb on that day would cause you to be slurped back into the Upside Down…Or if you would blink out of existence.

But the question hadn't woken you up since Spring Break. Because the positive to having a psionic demon vampire picking apart your psyche is that sometimes you got good intel.

You felt so warm all of a sudden, watching Steve watch you with his eyes wide and desperate and his scrumptious lips pushed into a sad pout, looking so young. You'd never been so touched in all your life.

You strode over to him and pulled his collar to encourage him down, closer to your height.

His arms looped around your middle. It was automatic. The half-crazed look on his face dropped away, replaced by an expression that told you he was taken aback but that he didn't hate this.

“I love you,” you declared, firm and resolute, yet quaky with emotion. You hoped he knew that this wasn't like the other times you said it. And that you could table the birthday discussion until after…

You squeezed his face and pushed your mouth into his as you looped your broken arm around his neck.

Steve gathered your hair away from your face and returned the kiss without a moment’s hesitation.

His mouth was warm and soft and a little tacky from how he'd been licking his lips nervously moments before. Your lip balm provided just the right amount of slide for your lips to tangle together perfectly.

Steve stumbled with you in his arms against the nearest wall. You took great care not to accidentally dicknail him in the side of the head with your cast as he hoisted you up, cradling your thighs in his hands.

Through his panting, he managed, “Do you mean it?”

Both of you knew what he meant. Did you mean I love you? Did you mean the kiss? The answer to both was a resounding fucking yes.

“Yes, Stevie. I want this. I want you so bad-”

Steve dive-bombed your mouth with his own, caressing your tongue with his. You opened your mouth wider to let him riff on it. 

You shuddered when you felt his crotch press into yours. The feeling of his hardening cock pressed into the space that was rapidly becoming drenched with your horniness and love for this boy combined with the slipperiness of your tongues moving together was beyond your wildest dreams.

Steve couldn't believe this was happening. He couldn't believe that the only thing standing between you two and your mutual desire to jam yourselves together like you were trying to fuse into a superbeing was that you thought he didn't think you were sexy or mature or whatever the fuck. 

If his blood supply wasn't rushing to his crotchal region right now, he might have done some psychological forensics to figure out how you'd arrived at that conclusion.

And fuck him if you didn't know what you were doing. This clearly wasn't your first heavy make out. Normally, that thought would make him jealous as all hell. But he could feel it. The rightness of this and he knew it didn't matter.

He pulled back from your mouth and let himself stare at you shamelessly. Your mouth was kiss-bitten and -oh - you already had this sexy, flushed glow painted from your cleavage to your cheeks. 

You wore a beautifully profane expression, half-helpless and half-threatening as in I'm going to eat you if you don't eat me first. Your irises looked almost feline.

He stole one more kiss from you before he hoisted you over his shoulder like a sack of flour. He expected you to protest but you just grunted slightly at the impact and braced yourself as much as you could for what turned out to be a short commute to Steve's room. You were too turned on to question his method.

Steve deposited you on the bed and you scrambled up to your knees to pull him forcefully into another kiss where he stood. You started nipping and biting sucking at his earlobes, his jaw, his neck, his chest.

Steve felt almost overwhelmed. This the hottest thing that had ever happened to him. You two were feral for each other and probably would have looked completely insane if you’d had an audience. Unlike his previous encounters, nothing about this felt stilted or transactional or lopsided.

In spite of how erotic it was, though, it also felt tender. Like this thread between you had been pulling taut for god knew how long before it had almost snapped. And as soon as you'd stopped resisting it, it pulled you into one another. He needed to be sure that you felt the same, though. He wouldn't risk another communication breakdown.

He pulled your face away from his neck by your hair and you looked startled but not displeased. Your lips curled into a dozy smile at the show of force. Steve was all business, though.

“How far do you want this to go?” You both chose to ignore the way his voice gave a little.

You swallowed as you stroked his chest. “Um, well, I really want you to make love to me but, like…I'll take whatever you give me.”

Steve closed his eyes in quiet supplication to whatever force was allowing this.

He smiled at you with his tongue poking at the back of his teeth. You returned it with a goofy giggle. God, you two were idiots.

“Game on then, baby,” Steve said.

Steve insisted on going down on you. You didn't strictly need it. You were so turned on that you could already feel that ache inside where you'd opened up to receive him.

You were almost worried that you might end up accidentally waterboarding him with your cunt for how wet you were already, but you needn’t have worried.

After he'd fluffed the pillows behind your shoulders and pulled your soaked panties off of you, he didn't waste a minute exploring down there with little kisses and bites to your thighs before he finally dove in and got to work. 

Within minutes he had you shivering and moaning, letting nonsense fuck language spill from your lips as you scratched his scalp in little circles. 

Steve was painfully hard in his shorts but he would have stayed down here for millenia if you'd let him.

Soon, you were gripping his wrist and writhing. Your legs were bent and rigid like a Barbie doll's but quaking with the intensity of your orgasm.

You let a sharp cry escape from your chest. It was high-pitched and wild and unguarded and it was the most beautiful sound Steve had ever heard.

He looked up at you. Your head was resting at an angle like it was too heavy for you to hold up. He let himself enjoy the sight. 

With your eyes still closed, as though you were in a deep trance, you started groping with your good hand, uncoordinated at your shoulders until you found the tie straps on your dress and undid them.

Without communicating it out loud, Steve pinched the fabric of your dress's bodice while you lifted up on your elbows so he could pull it down.

God, you were beautiful. Not just your tits. Yes, your tits were insane, but it was just you. Every inch of you, every plane on your body and, outside of your physical form, your gravity and orbit. He would never escape them and he didn't want to.

Steve crawled up your body, leaving smooches up your tummy and along your breasts and neck until he got to your mouth. You pulled him into you, kissing him stupid.

“Off,” you said bossily, breaking the kiss. Tugging at his collar. “These, too,” you insisted, pinching the cuff of his jeans between your toes.

Steve chuckled and pulled the shirt over his head. He got to work on his belt, kissing the tip of your nose.

“You want it like this?” he asked, indicating the missionary position you were in.

He got his belt free and shimmied his jeans away and down the bed, not wanting to leave you.

You bit your lip, eyes cast down lustfully, and Steve noticed you were checking out the tent in his boxers. 

He snickered. “My eyes are up here.”

You giggled at him, flicking his nose.

You two settled into a cozy silence and just stared at each other. You cleared your throat. “My favorite is being on top, usually,” you began. “But it might be hard with this.” You lifted your casted arm.

Steve deliberated for a moment. You could have told him you liked it upside down on a hammock and he would have found a way to make it so. But the thought of you riding him was making his dick weep. He would make that so, no problem.

“Teenie-on-top it is.” He gave your naked thigh a couple of light slaps. “Up,” he instructed.

You pushed up onto your knees as he leaned over to his nightstand, extracting a loose condom packet. He stood up and pulled his boxers down. 

When he looked at you, you were sitting on your haunches, knees splayed wide. Your arms were limp at your sides, hair a fucked out mess. You stared at his cock with what looked to him like reverence, mouth agape. 

“Oh, Marone,” you whispered to yourself with a gulp, fisting your hair at the scalp.

Steve snorted. You were so cute it made his chest hurt. He explained his plan as he ripped the condom foil open and rolled it over his cock.

“I'm going to hold you up so you don't put weight on the arm. I've got you, just trust me, ‘kay?”

He didn't know if you'd been paying attention to what he said. You sprung up on your knees and collapsed into him and gave him a searing kiss on the mouth. “‘Kay.”

Steve slid into bed and guided you by your hips to straddle him. You held your casted arm off to the side, balancing like you were getting into a rowboat as you braced your good hand on his forearm.

“Good?” he asked.

You hummed as you began moving yourself over his cock. Steve's breath hitched, but he kept his grip on your hips firm as you acquainted your bits with his. 

Your slickness and his spit had cooled a little but soon he could feel a pool of warmth. He was at your entrance. Your skirt was ruched around your waist, the straps of it hanging limply. His favorite dress.

You locked eyes with him as you reached between you and guided him inside. You sheathed him in inside you completely, pretty much immediately. No adjustment period needed. Your body had waited long enough. 

Both of you had done so much waiting.

You rocked your pelvis against him, getting used to the sensations. It felt like coming home, it felt so right.

Steve’s cock was like a pleasure-seeking missile. It found enclaves in your body that you'd never have discovered on your own. 

Your cunt hugged him, letting you and him both know how rich the landscape of your body was. You could feel everything and everything felt so good. 

Steve was still holding onto your hips but he was squeezing his eyes shut and writhing and moaning. You really fucking knew what you were doing. Or maybe this was just a long time coming. Maybe it was destined.

The sounds of his moans were like a cool drink of water on the hottest day of the year. You wanted the sound bottled. You wanted to bathe in it.

You braced your good hand on his chest and gripped his elbow with the other as you changed up the angle and pace. He was caressing your g-spot now and when you moaned loudly at the sensation, he gripped you tighter, encouraging you to devour that feeling. Your clit found his mons and pretty soon, playtime was over.

You were both panting and moaning and before you knew it, you were right there. Your pussy was fluttering. Steve's stomach was taut, his upper body having gone rigid. His face was red and the veins in his forehead were prominent with his exertion. He was trying to delay his own orgasm until you were ready.

You folded over then, collapsing forward and cradling his head between your upper arms. Electric bubbles of happiness fizzed in every part of your cunt, sending effervescent kisses up your spine and down to your toes. You thought your broken arm might have healed, even.

“FuckStevieBaby,” you whined, pressing your forehead into the dip of his shoulder.

Steve was a goner. He moaned your name pathetically as he pistoned his hips up into you, helped by the wetness of your cum. Heat lightning overtook his body as he felt himself spill inside the condom and he saw sparkles.

Your skin was pasted to his with sweat.

You shakily made yourself up to a seated position and looked down at him like you were getting to see the Northern Lights for the first time. 

He returned the gaze. Except to him, you were the Northern Lights and the Milky Way and a lofty angel with wings of purple fire. Jesus, when did he get so poetic?

He sat up and wrapped you in his arms, kissing you and pulling you into a hug. It wasn't unlike the ones you'd shared before, nudity notwithstanding. 

It was a hug that said hi, I'm here, I've got you, always. 

You let your heart rates ramp down before he lifted you off his softening member, but keeping you in his lap. He drew circles on your sweaty back.

“I love you,” he said into your collarbone.

Your heart did a little dance in your naked chest.

“I love you, too. More than anything.”

Steve pulled you both down and situated it so you were both laying on your sides, facing the other. He clasped your hand in his.

“No, I mean I love you.” It was emphatic despite the sleepiness in his voice. “I'm in love with you and I want to keep you. I want us to do this. I want people to know we belong to each other.” 

If anyone else on planet earth had said those words to you after you'd just fucked, it would have sounded like cro magnon-freshly-emptied-balls possessiveness.

But not with him. It's like you could see tomorrow in his beautiful brown eyes. You two were finally, blessedly on the same page.

“I've belonged to you since…” you rolled your eyes upward like you were thinking, when really you actually knew… “Halloween ‘84.”

Steve smiled at your confirmation. But also in bemusement.

“The night me and Nancy-”

“It was when I was on your bed,” you interrupted. “Right here in this spot. I was rolling up the sleeves of that stripey old man PJ shirt you loaned me.”

“I remember,” he whispered, swallowing the emotions bubbling up.

“I saw you looking at me and for just a second, I let myself think…”

You had let yourself think, this feels so easy. I'm about to spend the night in a boy's bed for the first time and it feels so easy. What if he wasn't heartbroken? What if he didn't think you were a freak? What if you'd done this a before in a thousand and one lifetimes? That's how easy it felt.

“I never stopped being yours, Stevie.”

He scooched closer, ran his index finger down the bridge of your nose, kissing you one more time.

“I hope you never do.”

“I never will.”

Steve got a faraway look in his eye as he looked past your shoulder. 

He didn't want to burst this bubble, but if he felt this way now, what would it be like less than two years from now. Less than two years away.

You clocked it immediately, you little mind-reader. 

You couldn't let him stew in his fear anymore. You hadn't meant to drop the subject before, but you had the pressing matter of showing him how much you loved him to attend to.

“I'm not going back, you know.” 

His eyes shot to you, suddenly way more alert.

“How-”

“Creel.”

Steve propped himself up on his elbow and studied you. You never brought this up. In fact, if any of your family's little misadventures ever came up in conversation, even briefly, you would excuse yourself from the room. Everyone learned to keep that talk to a minimum around you.

Besides that, Steve didn't like talking about when you'd been Vecna’d. It had been in the same manner as Nancy had been. Not meant to destroy you but to show you things. When the group had asked you what you saw, you simply told them “me.”

At the time, you had made the executive decision that what you had been shown wasn't valuable to any fact-finding that would help you defeat your foe. And when you were pressed for more, when Dustin had accused you of a party infraction by withholding, you'd leveled him with a deadly glare and stated “Not this, Dustin. Not now.” You had been so uncharacteristically severe that everyone silently agreed to leave it.

You turned over on your back and stared at the ceiling. 

“Before Spring Break, I was having a really hard time.”

Steve remembered. The recesses of his memory held images of you looking off into the distance, refrains of sorry, what? whenever you got caught out. 

You'd buried yourself in schoolwork, picking up extra shifts at the bowling alley, packing your calendar with babysitting gigs. Like you were trying to erase every moment of idle time, pulling away from everyone.

Steve had worried but when he talked about it with Robin, she'd dismissed it as paranoia. Think about it, Steve, what's she's been through. It catches up. 

He figured Robin might know something he didn't, hurtful though it was. He'd dropped it.

“You were dating around and Nancy was missing Jon. El was gone, Hop was gone. Max was totally checked out. And I started wondering, like..”

Your eyes were wet, now, voice a little choked. Steve brushed your cheek and that seemed to give you the resolve to keep going.

“I started to worry that I would never find someone that could really know me. That I couldn't ever really move on and grow up because the people that did know me were all…” 

You gestured vaguely into the air.

“I felt so out of place all of a sudden. And for the first time since I got here I just wanted to go back. I wanted to go back to where I made sense. Even though I didn't like my life before…”

Steve's heart broke at the thought that you'd felt so abandoned. He could kick himself for being so flip about it back then.

Your story took you over then. It was so cemented in your mind, it might have been inscribed on tablets.

You'd blinked. One minute you were at the mouth of the gate. The next minute you were in some sort of cathedral. But it was in ruins. The exposed sky was red. The air was stale..lightning flashed a deeper crimson across the sky.

There were pews made of shaley stone. What would have once served as a wall was crumbled around the arrangement.

He stood at the pulpit, a stone monument, cracked with angry looking clefts glowing with smoldering fire. He clutched each side of it, staring you down.  

He breathed your name in a dulcet huff. 

“You don't belong. You belong nowhere. You're a reprobate. Abominable. An orphan in time.”

He was hideous. And massive. You hadn't seen him until now. You'd only heard conjecture on what his visage might look like.

He was slimy and twisted and hairless. The sinews of his skin were a swampy gray, eyes ringed with red. For his florid yet cruel indictment of you, he was foul. You could taste him just by looking at him.

You were paralyzed with revulsion and fear. You were worried that you might actually pee your pants.

“You have nowhere to return to. You absconded from your problems, as you've always done. But I have nothing but good news for you.” 

You glanced around, not daring to move your head. You only saw more waste, more nothingness, more anger and despair scratched into the landscape that surrounded you. You wanted to go home.

Suddenly you knew where home was. It had never been so clear. It was with the people that had held and kept you since you'd been sucked through a leak in space-time.

“You can make a home here. You can join my menagerie. You'll never suf-”

“Don't listen to him, Ladybug,” came a sharp, familiar voice behind you, coated in the accent of her mother country.

You spun to meet her eyes...Your grandmother was sitting on one of the rock pews. She looked as elegant and warm as ever. She was wearing the satin wrap dress she wore to Easter mass the last year she was alive.

You stumbled over to her. She stood and opened her arms as you fell into her.

Suddenly you forgot that you were in a red-tinged hell scape with a slimy vampire at your back. Wherever this was, wherever she was, was a sort of paradise.

You held her tight. You could smell her familiar shalimar perfume over the fetid ozone stink of this place. The wings of her upper arms were soft in the crooks of your elbows. She shushed your crying and stroked your hair.

It was her. You knew, beyond what it was to know, that it was her.

You heard Creel growl behind you, startling you out of your grandmother's arms. She held fast to you and tilted your chin to look at her. You heard the air around you twist like warped steel, Creel’s voice laced through it, muddled and distorted to something imperceptible.

“He is a liar. He will lie to deceive you.” Her accent made it sound like “day-seef.” 

You missed her. You missed the way she talked. You missed how severe she was when she wanted to make a point.

She'd found you. Outside of time and space and a living vessel, she'd found you in this hopeless place.

Her eyes burned into yours. “Your father is fine. He knows you are fine. He doesn't know how he knows, but I've seen to it.”

You could hear that desperate argumentative groaning trying to pierce through. Your head was hurting. You had pressure in your ears.

“Your place is with your friends. Never stop thinking of them and you will never lose.”

The world around you started to crumble and fall away. You saw those big spires of rock around you crash into the ground.

You gripped her hands that held your face. “I love you,” you sobbed.

She smiled at you as everything caved in. You closed your eyes and felt her kiss your forehead. 

When you opened them again, you saw Steve. He was cradling you and hyperventilating. He seemed to register that you were back. Relief washed over his face and his breathing returned to normal.

“Did I pee my pants?” 

Steve had the courtesy to glance down to your upper-thigh region.

“If you did, it must not have been a lot.”

You broke into a sob and let him hug you while your friends rallied to get you away from the gate.

From then on out, you heeded your grandmother’s advice. You never stopped thinking of your friends and you didn't fail…You got Hop and El back. 

You had your friends.

You had Steve.

You had shut your eyes while telling Steve the story but you opened them now. You turned your head to face him.

“I'm sorry I didn't tell you,” you told him through tears. “I didn't know how.”

Steve didn't know what to say. He stared at you with gentle eyes. He didn't want you to cry anymore. 

He kissed you lightly and stroked your side. “It's okay. I get it.”

He did get it. He understood all at once why you couldn't tell them back then. You didn't want to make it about you. 

Max was still in danger. The world was still in danger. You'd been gifted a secret weapon that you had to wield and you didn't want anyone to hear what you'd seen and tell you that you'd been bamboozled by Creel and blunt your weapon with doubt. 

You'd known in your heart that it was real. Steve knew now because you knew. 

You were tired then. Well and truly sleepy. Steve accepted you into his arms.

You two fell into silence, breathing in tandem, stroking each other.

You felt Steve's chin wag on the top of your head when he asked “What do you think will happen on your 20th birthday?”

You smiled into his chest. You loved that Steve-flavored curiosity whenever it showed itself.

“I dunno, Stevie. Maybe nothing. But if anything does, you'll be there to find out with me, right?”

He scratched lines up your back as he answered.

“Can’t wait.”

(⁠/⁠^⁠-⁠^⁠(⁠^⁠ ⁠^⁠*⁠)⁠/

[bruhhhh-huhhhhh]

There was a light knock on your door, followed by your dad's voice. "You okay in there, kid?" He didn't force his way in when you didn't immediately respond, knowing that he should probably give you a minute.

You had been locked in your room for hours. Something wasn't right, but the former super soldier couldn't figure out what. Neither could you. You just got this horrible feeling in your chest randomly and couldn't shake it, so you went to your room to try and figure it out alone.

"No," you managed to get out in between sobs. Jack sighed from the other side of the door and opened it, seeing you curled in a ball in your bed. You had been crying for an hour now, and you just couldn't seem to stop no matter how hard you tried.

Jack's heart broke seeing your disheveled state. He hated seeing you upset, no matter what the reason was. It was his job as your dad to make sure you were okay, and you being sad was proof of his failure.

He made his way over to your bed, sitting down on the edge of it and putting a hand on your shoulder. "What's going on, kid?" he asked, his voice soft. You just shrugged your shoulders and kept crying. You had no clue what was wrong. Today just wasn't it for you.

Jack sighed and nodded. "I'll be right back, okay?" You nodded and he got up, leaving your room and going to the kitchen. He paced around the kitchen, trying to figure out what to make you. He eventually settled on hot chocolate, and while it cooled down a little, he grabbed extra blankets and the emergency basket that had your favorite drinks and snacks. Jack had put it together when you got broken up with for the first time, and he had just kept it stocked up just in case you needed it.

He balanced everything in his arms as he brought it back to your room. You looked at him, confused, but didn't say anything. Jack handed you your cup of hot chocolate and you took it, having a couple sips in between gasps for air. The tears just wouldn't stop.

Your dad laid the blankets over you and sat down on the edge of the bed again, not saying anything. He just wanted you to know that he was here. That he'd always be here for you, because you were his kid and because he loved you.

After a few minutes, you crawled over and rested your head in his lap. He smiled slightly and patted your head. "You're alright, kid. You're gonna be alright. Whatever's going on is gonna pass, and you'll be better because of it. Now, try to relax and go to sleep. I'll be right here when you wake up."

~~~~

@colemorrison

I love you :P