#that company is a lost fuckin cause

[cherubshert]

Sm protect your artist challenge failed multiple times lets see if they finally get it right now(probably not)

as a my and briize i just really wanna see sm be a good company for once like how r u the top kpop company, even one of the first kpop companies in general and you fucking suck at the basic part of your job...

i used to be an exo-l and bro they sucked then, and they suck more now.

[thebuttsmcgee]

so. um. 👉👈

hi guysies.

Ig I should just say like. Hi

I haven't been posting here as much cause. Idk. Might be depression? I keep thinking its cause I've been so busy, which also wouldn't be not untrue, but these past, like, 3 weeks I think so far? I've had some free time but I haven't cause. I dunno, then again, I haven't been doing too much in general? I gues, besides very mandatory things, hell I've even been lacking in my regular skyrim hours of playing.

That, and as said, I get super melancholic when I remember just how sad and bittersweet it is that t0h is. Actually legit over. The show and experience, that is.

Oh all that and also becuz my headphones broke! Fuck! That's like number 2 in my bare necessities for when I post, do almost anything really! It's seriously been painful this past month going without headphones holy shit. Dude I've been scratching at the bit for some relief for headphones, I NEED music legitimately. Even right now, as I'm typing this on my phone, my music is on low levels.

But yerp. Its been. Rough. Really rough. I really do appreciate yall, everyone of yall. Have a sweet week everyone, ✌️!

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: A new relationship means excitement, an uncontrollable craving for each other. When an early morning romp is interrupted with a scheduled weekly meeting, will you be able to keep your hands to yourself when Price begins to drone on? And if you can't, what will your lieutenant lover do once the meeting is over after you've tempted him for far too long?

Word Count: 7.8 k

Warnings:

“Come on, just a quickie before you gotta go,” you try to bargain as you roll onto your knees on the mattress, moving to straddle yourself over top of Simon’s lap so that he can’t get out of your bed yet. “Promise I'll make it worth your while.”

You sit on his thighs as you wrap your arms around his neck and he grabs onto your hips with those large hands, only his boxers and your panties keeping you apart. Gently you run your fingers through the short, dirty blonde hair at the back of his head before bending down to try enchanting him with your kiss to stay a little longer before you both have to start your day. You know if you can get him going, quick is the last thing it is going to be and all you want is more time in his company. It’s getting harder these days to let him go. 

Your lips meet and he sighs long and deep as he drinks you in. This new development in your relationship is only a couple months in the making, but you already have him in a chokehold that he can't seem to break free from. Goddammit your kiss is like heaven and he wants nothing more than to shove you back into the mattress and get lost in the ecstasy of your body all over again, but obligations of the job that you have so conveniently forgotten about are fast approaching this morning. As much as he hates it, clearly he’s going to have to be the responsible one. Christ, you aren’t making it easy when your pretty eyes are begging him for more as you pull agonizingly slow from his mouth and roll your hips over top of him. 

“We can’t,” he says with an agitated groan as he bites the corner of his lips so the pain will stop him from losing it and leaning back in; if he doesn’t show some restraint now it’s not going to happen. “Officer’s meetin’, ‘member? Don’t wanna start any rumors with our absence, do ya? Rather not have to have a discussion with Price today. So, ya best stop fuckin’ lookin’ at me like that ‘fore ya get us both in trouble. Cause ya know if I get started, I ain’t stoppin’.”

Fuck, is it that time of the week again already? You’ve nearly forgotten the date, so absorbed in having the hulking military lieutenant all to yourself over the weekend. Instantly your heart sinks as you realize that your request isn’t going to get fulfilled now, not if you want to keep this relationship on the down low. No, you don’t want your good thing ruined by stirring up trouble, no matter how much your body still trembles to be beneath him right now.

Fine, your hands are tied at this point, so you’ll just have to be strong and table this till later. Or at least… you’re gonna try. 

“Just can’t get enough of you,” you say, resigning defeatedly as you move to rest your forehead on his.

Eyes shut, he takes a few seconds just to enjoy the closeness with you before he speaks. “Later,” he reassures in a husky whisper. “Not like I can fuckin’ stay away from ya.”

A warm kiss is swiftly pinned to your temple and you sigh defeatedly before you move off of him to sit at his side. He gives you a look before he gets to his feet to find his clothes strewn about the floor, dressing as you watch on with hungry eyes until his body is covered once again. Instantly you are missing the sight of it now that it’s gone. Later already feels like a lifetime away as you fall back against your pillow with a groan and cover your eyes with your arm. 

The sounds of rustling clothes and the jingling of a belt buckle lasts just a few more seconds, followed by the sound of heavy steps before you feel a depression next to you on the bed. A rough hand removes your arm from your face and you are met with those coffee eyes and cheeky smile poking out from beneath his half pulled down mask as he leans over top of you. “See ya at the meetin’, luv,” he says before leaving you with a quick kiss as he rushes to get out the door before that one small action ruins it all and he ends up getting you both caught from sticking around too long.

You watch the door shut behind him and in the silence that follows you can hear the sound of your heartbeat throbbing in your head. How are you meant to keep it together now?

Getting dressed feels like an impossible chore, but eventually you finish and arrive at the conference room with a bit of time to spare before the meeting starts. You enter the space and are immediately dragged into making small talk with a few of the others standing around the conference table, exchanging pleasantries till Price arrives. The heat in your cheeks struggles to dissipate from the morning and it is only made worse as a tall, burly figure enters a couple minutes later and makes his way to the back of the room as if it’s nothing. Your vision constantly darts over to that masked man in the corner as you chat, your pulse keeping your face hot because you can tell that he is doing the same, though the shadow created from the fabric covering his face gives him the advantage in keeping his dark eyes on you.

Trying to force his sight not to linger on you today isn’t an option, not when he can see the product of his kiss still spread through your face. It’s captivating to be in the presence of something like that belongs to only him, so why the hell would he not want to soak you all in? It’s like he is hypnotized. He hasn’t felt like this in a long, long time and to say he isn’t a little obsessed would be a complete lie. Just looking at you gets his pulse racing now and it’s almost instantaneous how he has to adjust the crotch of his pants as they have suddenly gotten a little tight as his body reacts to the sight of yours.

He’s gotta snap out of his insatiable craving right now or this meeting is going to be brutal to try and get through. Moving to the back of the table, he takes his seat to hide the bulge growing in his pants. That’s when a familiar voice rings through the room just the same as it has week after week and Simon feels like he can breathe a little easier.

“Mornin’ everyone,” the distinct voice of your superior is heard over the small crowd. “Let’s get started, shall we. Got things to do.”

Captain Price doesn’t waste any time, arriving precisely on the hour just as he always does and everyone immediately takes their seats just like clockwork. Good, now all he has to do is get through the hour and then you’ll go your separate ways until the end of the day. However, as he looks on as the chairs around the table get filled, he realizes that your usual seat towards the front already has a body sitting in it that isn’t yours and the only free chair left is at the back of the table right next to him.

Your eyes meet and your breath hitches as you see the empty spot beside him and it feels like you can’t get enough oxygen as you make your way over; no sense in prolonging your agony. Simon’s shoulders stiffen as you take your seat, the tension caused from your proximity making his mind hazy, even before Price begins to drone on about nothing of major significance. It’s all just daily reports and mandated updates from around the base, so it doesn’ take long before it all becomes background noise to the beating of his heart in his ears. 

You aren’t fairing any better as your mind begins to wander and it’s in that loss of attention that the trouble starts to brew. 

Sensory-filled memories of the past couple of nights play through your mind on repeat: sweaty, tangled limbs, burning kisses that steal your breath, ecstasy filling you up until all you can do is lay back and let it consume you; it’s the type of euphoria that could make you an addict if you're not careful enough. The vivid sensations associated with the images flooding through your mind chip away at your calm so that about halfway in your sanity has deteriorated. 

You cross your knees over one another and clamp your legs together to stop the ache blossoming between your thighs, but it does nothing to help. You have to do something to ease the agony because you cannot squeeze your legs together any tighter or the danger of you accidentally letting out a moan will become a real threat. Desperately your eyes dart around the room to try and focus on anything in particular, but there is nothing that grabs their attention until they stop back at the table in front of you and out of the corner of your sight you notice the top of Simon's thigh peeking out from under the table. Those juicy bits of his body that you know intimately as they have been pressed between your legs before are a magnet for your sight and suddenly there is a need that is awakened in you.

Fuck, now you have a new problem. The longer you look, the harder it gets. Imagination isn't enough anymore. Shoving your hands into the tight space between your crossed legs you try to bury the feeling, but your desire pleads with you to reach over and get a feel.

Just a little touch won’t hurt, right? 

He probably won’t even notice if you are careful enough, at least that's what you try to convince yourself of so you don't sound so fucking desperate. Maybe giving yourself a little treat will help ease the pain enough that you can move on. As Simon leans back in his chair, trying to adjust his position to keep himself focused on Price, you take that as a sign that you should just go for it.  

Simon notices the way you shift in your seat, inching in closer to the edge of the chair nearest his side. You pause for a few seconds before he catches you moving again and now your shoulders are almost touching. He wonders what you’re up to getting this intimate, but just as the question enters his mind more movement grabs his attention and he watches as you lean in and your shoulder twitches. Then he feels it, a delicate bit of pressure on his thigh that immediately sends him spiraling.

You have reached over and are now running your fingertips over the outer seam on the leg of his pants, but the moment you make the slightest contact with him a yearning blossoms in your chest so strong that you can’t stop yourself and your fingers begin to wander thoughtlessly. Soon you find your touch on the outer edge of his thigh and then the middle and still you can’t force yourself to stop.  

Simon risks a look down into the shadow underneath the table only to see your arm stretched out and your hand creeping in towards the middle of his lap. He pries his sight back up and catches you peeking over at him from the corner of your eye. Your gazes meet and your chest begins to rise and fall more heavily than it had a few seconds ago as you shoot him a tempting look.

Oh, so this is what’s going to happen today; his strength of will is going to be tested. Fuck.

Carefully and quietly, Simon repositions himself in his seat. Without turning his face at all, he inclines his head to the side so that it is nearly pressed against yours. “Ya sure ya wanna start this?” he growls his question in a whisper near your ear, yet he does nothing else as he sits back up straight. 

Your hand continues on undeterred and makes it in between his thighs without any resistance; it’s clear that neither of you were finished with what was trying to be started this morning as a small peak already meets your hand before you’ve even done anything.   

Simon exhales a shaky breath as your hand makes contact with the crotch of his pants and it takes all his willpower to hold steady as you run your hand over the mound just under the zipper. Thank God he’s wearing his jacket today, otherwise the way his chest starts to heave with each labored breath as you stroke your palm consistently over the swell would give him away to everyone here. Behind the mask, his mouth hangs open slightly as he forces himself to quietly pant as if under duress. 

Being this close to him, you can hear the change in his breathing and those subtle deviations in his respiration guide your movements further. You press down and he has to bite his lip until he tastes that first bit of copper to keep himself under control. And yet he doesn't pull your hand away… because he doesn't want to. His pretty thing needs to feel him, he isn’t going to deny that. It’s a risk, but it’s one he is more than willing to take just to keep you locked in this moment with him.

Over and over you go in with insatiable intent, stroking until the tip of his thick cock throbs with his pulse against your touch as a throbbing of your own. The sound of your captain is barely a faint whisper at this point as all of your  awareness is focused solely in the silent tension shared between you and your lover as your hand draws him closer and closer to release just from the pressure alone. 

The tingle in his lap radiates out in waves that make his limbs feel heavy and causes a cold sweat to break out across his skin and just as Simon thinks that he can’t take a second more of stimulation because he’s going to burst, the meeting finally comes to an end. Quickly you have to pull your hand back out of his lap as your fellow officers’ attentions are no longer focused towards the front of the room and you pray that they can’t see the way your body shudders. 

You don’t dare get out of your seat yet; at this point your legs are like jelly and you are sure that if you try to stand you will make a fool of yourself by stumbling around. Instead, you pull out your phone to pretend you are making a note of something important as everyone leisurely files out until all that is left is you and Simon in the empty room. 

He hasn’t said a word since his cautionary question, instead moving out of his seat the moment he could to lean up against the wall near the door with his arms crossed over his broad chest. The last person makes it out and yet he’s still standing there soundlessly as if he is waiting for something, his shadowed gaze locked onto your form. 

Eventually you calm yourself enough to make it out of your seat and back onto your feet without falling. You take a few steps to leave and you nearly make it out of the room before the door is promptly pushed shut in your face and Simon places himself directly between you and the exit. Instantly you are stopped in your tracks and you stand there curiously as that familiar click from the lock being engaged is heard and the room falls silent, not even the sound of people coming and going can be heard on this side of the door. 

“What was that, hmm?” he asks in fake anger, his bright eyes giving him away even with the mask covering the majority of his features.

You shrug. “What are we talking about?” you ask in return with a tilt of your head. Ever the little actress, it seems.

He chuckles deeply as a spark flashes through the irises of his eyes to make them shine the way an animal’s does before it goes in for the kill. You know exactly what that look means. “Playin’ games, are ya?” he asks. “Or did ya already forget the way you were just tryin’ to make me come?”

“Is there a problem?” you ask back as the corner of your lip upturns ever so subtly. 

He takes a step towards you and you move back with it; another and you do the same. This continues only a few more paces until you run out of space and back into the edge of the table, allowing Simon to move in without a problem until his body is within a few feet of yours. Reaching out with one of those large hands he wraps it around your wrist and pulls your arm forward into him. 

“Oh, we ‘ave a big fuckin’ problem now, sweet,” he groans as he takes your hand and pins the palm just to the side of the zipper on his pants. You don’t even have to look down to know what he’s talking about as there is a hard, stiff peak that meets your touch; the tip of his cock strains against your hand as he presses your palm down over it. “See what ya did?” 

An unintentional moan escapes your lips at the feeling that you try to disguise with a cough, but Simon has already caught it. With a hook of his thumb under the cloth of his mask, he pries it up off of his mouth and in the same motion he jerks your arm past his body to pull you in the miniscule distance still between you both so that you are now plastered to his chest. Since his mask isn’t an issue anymore, his hand captures your chin in its grip and he holds on firmly. 

The intense domination of the movement feels like an ambush on your sanity and with that one simple motion he already has your heart fluttering just like he wants. You’ve played your little game and gotten him riled up, and it’s got him craving you so bad he can hardly keep his thoughts straight. Now it’s his turn at it and he isn’t going to stop until he has chipped away at your resolve so that you want him just as badly. 

Keeping his grip tight on your chin he cocks your head to the side to move it out of his way as he leans his face in towards the soft, tender skin that has been revealed to him just under your jawline. 

“Now, how’re we gonna fix this? Can’t go ‘round wit this thing at full attention,” his balmy breath travels over your skin as his lips rub along the side of your neck, the tip of his nose catching that sweet spot just behind your earlobe. 

The very faint stumble covering the lower half of his face prickles your skin as he presses his lips against you gently at first to let the feather-light pressure tantalize the flesh around that pulsing vein under your jawbone. He can feel it begin to race under his touch the quicker your heart pumps and he has to force himself to take a breath. To observe the physical reaction you have to him, to feel the way you come alive in his hands, it’s enough to bring him to his knees and if he isn’t careful he can easily lose himself.     

“Ya owe me–” he trails his kisses upward until his lips are pressed along your jaw “for–” those heated kisses keep going over the contour until he hovers right over your mouth, lips ghosting over yours just out of reach “–all that teasin’.”

You attempt to move in and collapse the distance between your mouths to zero, but his hold on your face keeps you at bay. Again you struggle to embrace his mouth and again he pulls you back and it’s clear what the game is now. If you want his kiss on your lips, you are going to have to meet his conditions. 

“What do you want?” you ask coyly as if there is anything else that he could possibly be after at this moment. 

Simon runs the tip of his stout tongue over the middle of his bottom lip as he stares at yours, the skin on your mouth growing redder with each erratic inhale of breath you take, before he drifts his gaze back up the short distance to your eyes. He admires how they shimmer with unspoken wants as he meets them again. 

You know full well that the door is locked, Simon is certain you heard him secure it since you were close. That means you both are cut off from the rest of the base while in here and with the meeting over, there is no reason for anyone to come around. The room is yours for as long as you want.

“Well, we’re all alone, luv,” he says. 

“Mmhmm,” you agree as if he’s asked a question.

Taking both his hands, he cradles the back of your head as his thumbs rest against your cheeks and he takes a step so that his hips block your body against the table. He inches in ever so carefully, making sure that his lips will not touch yours, but be just close enough that the agony caused from their proximity will make you fucking burn to feel them. It’s a game that he has perfected over his time with you and one he prides himself on being the master of. 

“Ya know what I fuckin’ want.” 

The heat from his warm breath wafts over your lips to make them tingle from the change in temperature. This close you can finally catch the scent of his natural musk mixing with the sharp notes of his spicy cologne and the smell reminds you of your sheets where the fragrance still lingers. It is overwhelming your senses until you feel delirious and out of control. 

“Wanna take ya on this fuckin’ table,” he breathes into your face in a growl the comes from somewhere deep inside. “Can’t wait.”

His voice is pure sex on a good day, but in these moments when his full attention is on you as he plays up the sultry notes of his tone to match his growing need, you can’t help the way you squeeze your legs together as a shudder of pleasure runs like icy water straight through to your core. 

“Undo - your - pants,” he orders, his deep, heavily accented voice breathy, but firm. “Now.”

Your pulse is pounding in your ears with your short, quick breaths and he takes the moment to tempt you further by having the tip of his tongue gracefully slither out of his mouth to catch the edge of your upper lip, lightly grazing the inner bit so that you shiver and it takes all your strength not to buckle at your knees and stumble in his grasp.  

Finally gaining control of your limbs through the haze spreading in your mind you move your hands over your abdomen, using touch alone to find the fastener at the front of your pants as he holds your head in place, forcing you to keep your eyes focused on him. Finally you locate the button and as swiftly as your shaky fingers can manage, you fidget with it till it opens and you can guide down the zipper. 

A ravenous grin spreads across Simon’s lips at the sound of your clothes being shed. It’s Pavlovian the way it immediately makes his mouth salivate with anticipation as he knows that soon he is about to enjoy a feast that includes all your delicious curves ready and begging for his special brand of ecstasy.

You’ve done what he’s asked and now you desperately want your reward, but you should know by now it isn’t going to be that easy. He is a man of mutual obsession and you’ve only barely just started to ache with the overwhelming intensity that he wants; he needs you in shambles just like he’s had to be this whole time as you stroked him under the table.  

“Please,” you plead tacitly as multiple words seem too cumbersome to have in your mouth.

Simon shakes his head. “Not yet. Push ‘em down,” he demands. “Take ‘em off.”   

You scramble to follow his dictation and grab onto the waistband of your pants, jerking them down over the curve of your rear and continuing until they are past your calves, slipping out of your boots so that you can step out of the fabric now bunched at your ankles. You stand back up straight and immediately those rough fingers are outlining the band on your panties just below the hem of your shirt and each time they graze over the tender skin of your pelvis, you gasp inaudibly into his face as the electricity from his touch makes your skin tingle. 

As one hand plays, the other that is cradled at the base of your skull draws your face to him. “Ya got me wantin’ ya so bad it fuckin’ stings,” he admits. “Is that what ya want, sweetheart? Ya want me a goddamn mess wheneva you’re around?”

His thumb tugs at the corner of your mouth as he drags it over your bottom lip and the action takes your breath so you have to forcefully catch it. “I want you to want me as bad as I want you,” you answer as your heartbeat hiccups in your chest.

Simon chuckles. “Greedy girl,” he says, drawing out the words, his voice getting more and more gravely. “Ya know how fuckin’ hard I was strugglin’ to not just throw ya on the table and take right there in front a everyone? Ya got me outta my goddamn mind insane for ya with just a touch.”

You look up at him with starry eyes, the kind of sight that makes him feel like you think he’s hung the fucking moon for you. “Take…me now…” you beg.

He can feel you tremble in his hands as you plead for your sanity and it pushes him to his breaking point. “That what ya want?” he asks. “Let me hear it, sweet.”

You nod without even having to think about it. “Please, Simon. Please. I haven’t stopped needin you since this morning. Just give it to me.”

Fuckin’ hell he is going to absolutely wreck you after that.

Tilting his head to one side he moves in and with a sharp inhale of breath before the plunge, he hauls your mouth to his and crashes his lips on yours. The deadly potency in his embrace knocks the little bit of air you just drew in from your lungs and in an instant you are left gasping for breath again while not wanting him to pull away.  

That huge, hulking body with all of its bulky muscles overwhelms your own as he pins himself harder against you, pushing your hips together to grind that stiff peak roughly against you with rocking movements, hips rolling into you again and again until you join him as your frantic fingers rip the jacket off his shoulders and down his arm so that you can feel his skin under your hands.   

His mouth is insatiable, stealing sloppy, desperate kisses one after another until your lips burn from the abrasion. The contrast between the rough way he embraces you with the delicately smooth feel of his lips is a sensory overload in the best way. Those long fingers of both of his hands are now tangled in the strands of your hair at the back of your head, not wanting to give you the chance to get away from the harshness of his lips as he claims your mouth as his. 

You match his energy and your fingers find the hem of his mask that still clings to his face and you slip them up underneath to pry it off the rest of the way so that you can caress the back of his head and make him buckle from the shiver as you run your fingertips over his scalp. He holds you tighter as a blunt grunt of pleasure vibrates up from his chest and he breathes it into your open mouth for you to swallow down. He is so caught up in the passion of the moment that he nips aggressively at your lower lip until you gasp as it stings so good. 

The warmth from his breath tingles along the raw skin of your mouth as he buries his nose in your cheek the harder he pushes in. No matter how close you are, it isn’t enough; he wants…no he needs to be closer. He isn’t sure yet if he likes being the type of man that goes feral with an insatiable appetite for his lover, but if you are going to be greedy with wanting his attention he is going to be greedy in the way he reciprocates it.

You are suddenly on the move as Simon easily slides his strong hands up under your arms and picks you up to set you on top of the sturdy table, tugging behind your knees to pull you forward so that you are at the very edge of the surface. You hadn’t realized how warm you are until the instant the cool table touches the bare skin on the back of your legs.

A hum vibrates in his chest as he rubs the length of your thighs before he lockes his hands around them to pry them apart and moving in with his palm, he slides it up into the crotch of your panties and cups his wide hand up over your sex.

“F-fuck,” you whimper as he presses down to pin your lips up into your clit. “I need…I need…”

“Whatcha need, sweet?” he asks through panting breaths as he pulls back and pushes in again, making you squeak out a high pitched whine. “Tell me, use your words.”

You swallow hard. “Need… your fingers…” you struggle to say as he does the same maneuver again.

“Does that sweet little clit need my attention?” he asks. “Achin’ for my touch? Ya think I should jus’ give it to ya after the mess ya made a me when I couldn’t even get at ya yet?”

He keeps his hand pinned down and the pressure makes your hips buck in reaction. “I know… I know…” you stammer out the sloppy confession as you fight to create any words at all. “Couldn’t help it.”

If he had been in a more calm state, he would have liked to tell you to get yourself started to see how you’d follow his directions, and then if you did a good enough job he would come in, but Simon wants to feel you just as much as you crave his touch. The strangle you have on his sanity is making him lose it fast and there isn’t much time he is going to be able to spare, but even in his inebriated state as he slowly drowns in your ecstasy, his mind concocts a devilish plan. 

Maybe he can have both his cake and finger it too.

Suddenly he takes your hand in his, wrapping his larger one over top while making you match the way his two middle fingers stick out with yours, and forces them both to descend down the tingling skin of your lower abdomen into the front of your underwear as he rests against you with foreheads touching. Working your combined fingers in tandem, Simon parts through the lips of your pussy and moves both sets right up against that tiny bundle of nerves just above your core.

“Already wet, pretty girl?” he groans with a hiss as his finger makes contact with a bit of warm moisture once inside. “Not enough, though. I want ya fuckin’ drippin’ for me. And we’re gonna do this how I want. Now we’re gonna make ya a mess so I don’t feel so alone.”

It hasn’t left his mind that this isn’t the safest place to be, that even though the room is only used on those weekly occasions when Price gathers his personnel to keep everyone up to speed, even though the space is vacated and the door locked, there is no guarantee that someone won’t try and get in. He has to be quick, but he is going to do this right. 

Simon expertly guides your finger over your clit in that very distinct way that he does it, rubbing in concise circles over the nub with both of your fingers, using a bit of light pressure as your knees fall apart to give him more access and it doesn’t take long until your mouth falls open so that all those pretty sounds can escape unhindered just as you know he likes.

Their sound only adds fuel to his desire. Having him pilot your movements, forcing you to pleasure yourself under his control, adds another level of euphoria that he had not previously thought possible. Fuck, does he feel powerful to take you like this, both of you working together until your wetness dribbles down his fingers as the heat warms his hand.  

His face is so close to yours that he can use your breath to fill his lungs as he runs out of air; the only thing he wants to sustain his life at this moment. Breathing you in, tasting you, feeling you; he only wants to be consumed by you like a man possessed. He has never needed anyone in the way he needs you and the more he causes you to sing, the more he has to be sure that no one else can ever satisfy you the way that he can. It’s his mission now to completely ruin you for anyone else.

Your legs start to shake as the pressure continues to build from the sensitivity and your calves crush his hips as a pitiful whimper you let out sends him over the edge and drives him insane in his already weakened state. There is no stopping the feral part of his brain from taking over to guide his movements and suddenly your clit isn’t the only thing he wants to play with; he needs to fill you.

You can feel your hand on the move, slithering down until the tips of both your fingers reach your entrance. And quickly they ascend up into you to stretch you out as your legs vibrate, the flood of blood to your cheeks making your face burn like you’re on fire as he keeps shoving up inside until he reaches the amalgamation of your combined knuckles. He keeps his eyesight down to watch the way your hands make your panties bulge as your pussy is filled with the both of you.

The unexpected fullness causes your back to arch and your head to fall back as you struggle to stifle a desperately loud cry from being stretched. Instantly Simon drags your head up and harshly connects your lips with overwhelming savagery to stop the sound from getting out, sucking it down his throat with his mouth pressed to you so securely as you continue to groan in short bursts until you finally are able to calm yourself enough to keep your volume down.  

Your body grips both of your fingers tight as he begins to rhythmically work at your G spot with rough and intense movements, unable to calm down. The harder he goes the more dampness covers the fingers inside you and it drips down onto the back of his hand and begins to stick to the inside of your thighs. Your walls flutter around his fingers the more they swell and that lets him know that you’re close. His pulse is racing to feel it, that moment you come; no single sensation ever gives him more pleasure than being the reason you fall apart.

Your hips begin to grind onto your hands for more friction. “Fuck…fuck…” you mutter in agony under your breath. It’s nearly there, just a bit more. 

Stroking and grinding, stroking and grinding, it feels like an eternity stuck at the edge of that cliff as the warmth gathering in the pit of your stomach grows in intensity, but suddenly and without warning, like a wave washing over you, that warmth reaches its peak and shoots through you as you fall over the edge.  

Simon makes you ride out your orgasm on your fingers until you settle and only then does he gently pull your hands out from your still quivering core and up out of your panites, never letting you go. He holds them up and your fingers glisten with the product of his work under the fluorescent lighting. After taking a few seconds just to admire the way they look he locks eyes with you and holds your gaze as he brings those coated digits on your hand straight up to his mouth and sucks them inside that wet cavern. He uses his tongue to swirl around your fingers to clean them, sucking on them thoroughly to get all the taste of you off and you nearly faint from the erotic nature of his action. 

The way he has no shame when it comes to enjoying every bit of you is staggering to behold. He is insatiable and you can’t get enough.

Giving your hand back, Simon steps up right against you between your legs as his hand slips between your bodies and he shifts his hips slightly so that he can undo his belt buckle, then the button on his jeans, and finally pull down the zipper. Sticking his hand inside the shadowed recesses of his boxers, he pulls out and releases that thick, veiny appendage that has been throbbing for far too long without relief. It stands at attention and bobs with his pulse, a mouth-watering view of all that girth ready just for you. 

The knuckle of his finger bushes over your still overly sensitive cunt as he hooks the digit into the seam at the crotch of your ruined panties and jerks them to the side out of his way before the tip of his cock presses into your petals. So slowly he guides himself past that first barrier in through your lips and carefully he strokes his cock in your cum, coating himself in the heated moisture his touch produced. 

Calloused fingers suddenly divide through the strands of your hair at the back of your head so that his grip is securely woven into you as the others dig into your hip. “You drive me wild, pretty girl,” he says with covetous aggression, “but if ya ain’t careful, I may not be able to contain myself like I did today. So unless ya want me ta fuck ya in front a everyone, you’re gonna wait till we’re alone to start things, yeah?”

You nod in agreement.

“Then I’ll make sure ta get ya so fuckin’ good,” he whispers as he pulls out just enough so that he adjust himself to align his swollen tip with your entrance. “Won’t let ya go till you’re satisfied, promise.” 

He prods against the opening, pushing up against it until you feel drunk on the feeling of anticipation as you wait impatiently for when he finally thrusts hard enough to get all that girth in. “Lift your hips,” he hurriedly demands and you lean back on your hands to help angle your pelvis upward.

Those coffee-colored eyes meet yours one last time as his hand gives your hair a tug. “Let’s finish this right, yeah?” he breathes and his hips snap forward as he pulls yours down.

The moment the tip breaks through the threshold of your body you both involuntarily share a gasp between your open mouths. You are so wet and clearly more than ready to take him, but he still has to pace himself getting in or else he’s going to come before he’s had a chance to really fuck you good. Still your body sucks him in every single inch he gives you until he reaches the base of his shaft where he pauses. 

The width of his cock pushes against your walls until they form around the contours perfectly and his hand on your hip burrows harder into the skin in an attempt to let any other feeling get through the overwhelming sensation of being inside you so that he can last. He focuses back on your face where your eyes are shut tight and something about that just won’t do. He wants those blown-out pupils that rest behind closed lids to be fixated on him as if he is the only thing in the entire fuckin’ world that you crave to look at.

Because you are the only thing in his.  

“Eh, eyes on me, sweet,” he growls desperately to get your attention back. “Need ta fuckin’ see ‘em. That’s it, just like that.”

You open your eyes and your aching gaze renders Simon speechless. How in the fuck did he get so lucky to call you his and why in the hell didn’t he make that happen sooner? Without any more of a pause he begins to thrust in and out of you with a ferocity that makes your body burn as his desire overtakes him. Each stroke stretches you out more until the sting subsides and all that’s left is the satisfying euphoria that comes with being filled so full.

Your cheeks feel like they are glowing and on fire as thrusts after thrust he pounds into you, stretching you and filling you to the brim on all of his passion for your body as the sound of slapping skin against skin fills the silent space, accentuated by the sound of threads snapping as your panties are stretched to the point of ripping. Panting heavily into your face with mouth open, chest heaving up and down with laborious breaths, Simon unleashes himself upon you.

“Fuck,” he says, jaw hanging slack with desire, “wish ya could see how pretty ya look right now.”

Harder and harder he thrusts into you until the table begins to rock with him as he shoves his fat cock as far up into you it almost hits the back of your cervix. He desperately tries to keep the pace even, but it is reaching the point of no return.  

“Ya feel so fuckin’ good, baby,” he stutters with a groan low and guttural as he starts the feel that pressure again building at the base of his spine, ready to shoot through him at any second of he keeps this up. “So fuckin’ good. Can’t ever get enough of ya.”

You buck against him, meeting his movements with your own as you use your legs wrapped around his hips as leverage. The risky nature of your triste barely registers anymore as the stimulation from his cock hitting that sweet spot over and over again inside you clouds all your thoughts except one: the need to come. And it is fast approaching the longer he goes until it is right fucking there; all he has to do is keep going.

“Shit, don’t stop Simon,” you plead in distress to him, your toes curling into the air as you focus on your erratic breathing. 

“Tha’s it, sweet, come for me,” he growls, “Come all over my fuckin’ cock.” 

His pace is relentless as he pumps with those powerful thrusts that bury him deep within you, unyielding and relentless with his need to render you completely satisfied. And just like that everything comes to a head with a shudder as your orgasm rockets through you fiery hot, making your body writhe in his grasp. You squeak out in a whine before you clamp your lips together tight to make sure you can stay as quiet as you can as you ride out the depth of your pleasure on his cock. God, it doesn’t stop, second after second it just keeps building stronger and stronger. Simon does not let up and soon you are whining from the over-stimulation.

He isn’t far behind though and it doesn’t take many more strong thrusts until the warmth that had been building to this point twice now finally shoots through his body, coursing like a burning river of fire through his veins as he rips his cock out of you and through your thighs as he pulls up your shirt over your tits to cover your stomach in sticky semen as he comes hard.

Leaning forward, Simon opens his mouth and latches it fully onto your collarbone through the fabric of your shirt, digging his teeth into the muscle to keep himself quiet as he milks himself dry with your thighs. He grinds up into those juicy bits of your legs as he grunts laboriously into the muscle of your shoulder so that it vibrates from the intensity while his wide hips continue rolling upward until he has nothing left to give and his shoulders slump forward with exhaustion as he comes to a stop.   

The muscles of his arms are shaking as he releases your shoulder from his mouth. “Goddamn, sweetheart,” he says out of breath, wrapping his arms around you to hold you close, “I ain’t ever been to a meetin’ that ended this way, but Christ should they.” 

You chuckle as you incline up into his face to catch his mouth in your embrace. Releasing his lips, you are met with a contented smile as he strokes your cheek sweetly with his thumb. You both know you need leave, you’ve spent too much time here already, but Simon just can’t let you go. At least, not yet. Not when you look so good in that post-coital hazy state of bliss that it makes his heart flutter.  

[moneymartin]

・❥・- just for you.

summary: kate takes her anger out on you after a hard loss. (more gentle tho cause she doesn’t have the heart to hurt you 😞😞😞) + lil bit of aftercare at the end ;3

warnings: 18+ ASFUCK! SMUT MDNI! strap on use… lol

RPF!

a/n: ik i been lacking recently but i’ve grown some more motivation to do something since i’m kinda stuck at home. also almost broke my arm yesterday hahah 🥸 also not much dialogue tbh i’ve never been good at that cuz i dont talk to ppl 😭 AND i didn’t know how to end sozzzzzz!!!!

it was the toughest lost of kate’s college career, especially considering the fact that it was her last year at UOI. the only thing she wanted was to have the championship title, just once. but the team couldn’t do it.

you saw her put all her blood sweat and tears onto that court. the way she tried to make as many shots, as many blocks as she could, and as many fouls as she could draw. the way you watched her cry while she walked into the tunnel absolutely broke you.

when she got home the air between you two grew extremely thick. you couldn’t tell if she was angry or even over it at all. she wasn’t crying, just real quiet. and being the good girlfriend you were, you didn’t bother to push any of her buttons, no matter how much you wanted to just keep her company.

kate would either be sitting on the couch, on her phone, continuously walking around the apartment, sitting in random spots on the floor, in the kitchen. she’d be anywhere and everywhere. all she wanted to do was get her mind off of it, for a little bit.

“are you okay?” you speak amidst the quiet environment that had been lingering for god knows how many hours. you didn’t try to speak either because it felt like she’d just ignore you or give you a nasty look cause she wasn’t feeling so good about it. “i’m fine.” kate murmurs and looks up at you from the clasped hands on her face. the tone she gives you makes it known that she isn’t.

“yeah, right.” a scoff leaves from your lips and the mood changes almost immediately. your eyes dart towards kate and the look that she’s giving you makes it feel like a million daggers are being dug into your back. her face stiffens up and so does your body when you realize that she’s 100% angry.

you know that it isn’t your fault, but now it really feels like it was. “do you think that’s funny or something?” when you hear that, it’s obvious that you’ve fucked up. you can’t muster up anything in response cause you know that it’ll make it worse. not for her, but for you.

but there’s just something about kate that drives you insane when she’s fired up.

“no.” you swallow.

“exactly! don’t fuckin’ go around and laugh about it, if it isn’t funny! are we clear?”

she grunts and lets out a heavy breath when you stand there all quiet and unresponsive. she hates that. its the one thing that makes kate tick the most, other than losing a game that important to her. “answer me.”

you don’t respond. and the look of anger on kate’s face grows much more apparent. “c’mon!” she groans and quickly slides off of the bed. her fingers grip at the collar of your shirt, her rapid breaths brushing harshly against your face.

she tugs your body up against hers and a small whine escapes from in between your lips. kate is giving those eyes that make you shiver all over the place. “y- yes, we’re clear…” you choke out and look away. you can’t stand seeing her angry but its also the fact that it turns you on too.

your voice makes it seem like you aren’t very sincere about saying that though, and that makes her tick even more. kate’s teeth grit together and a sharp breath makes its way through them, her fingers inching closer towards the waistband of your jeans.

“yeah? you sure?” kate teases and starts to unbutton them. her voice deepens and the cold air that meets your now exposed skin makes the shivers feel more like a billion daggers going through your body. her hands cup your waist, a newfound lust taking over the look in kate’s eyes. “doesn’t seem so sincere…” she husks out.

“i mean it! god, you can’t believe me even when i mean it the most.” you sigh and stare at the jeans puddling around your feet. when you bend over to pick them back up and put them on again, kate’s fingers wrap around your sleeve and she pulls you up, drawing a quiet ‘tsk’ sound from your mouth. “just… let me fuck your brains out until i get you to really mean it.”

she tugs you up against her again, her front subtly grinding against yours. and now you can actually feel it. her stupid fucking strap. your eyes dart towards hers momentarily before they inch away. the embarrassment you feel is incredibly strong. you’re wet, and now you can’t even look her in the eyes.

before you even get a chance to speak, kate’s hand falls on the dip of your back and you’re face first into the foot of the mattress. the side of your head presses against it again to get a breather, the sound of kate unzipping her jeans rapidly, and the tip of the strap making contact with your body.

one of her hands grabs both of yours and pins them backwards, the other hand trailing up and down your body and towards the waistband of your panties. in one swift movement, they’re off and on the floor. you have no clue where, but they’re somewhere in that room. as much as you’re trying to resist, you can’t

“c’mon, baby. don’t fight it, please.” kate pleads and leans over your body to bury her face into your neck. her teeth dig into the side of it and you let out a wince, struggling to move your hands while she keeps them in a lock. kate’s breath tickles at your skin while she pulls away, the hand she has on your waist moving away to line herself up with your entrance.

she doesn’t even give you a warning before she slides in. the only thing that makes it known that you’re getting absolutely filled up is the groan kate lets out when she goes in all the way. you let out a huge whimper and eventually start to feel it. “fuck!… oh my god.” you babble and feel kate leaning toward your face again, her breathing hitting your skin, leaving behind dark marks on the base of your neck.

the more you moan and whine into the sheets, the more it fuels her to keep going. she thrusts into you as hard as she can, her hand letting go of the two she’s been holding, and yanks at your hair to pull your head up. “you fuckin’ feel that, baby? that’s all for you.” kate grunts, smashing her lips against yours and pulling your hair again. “just for you..” a hurried ‘mhm’ escapes your lips, your voice left limited.

your whimpers mix into the kiss as you constantly punch at the bed the harder she drives into you. her teeth tug at your bottom lip and your head moves away the more you feel yourself start to sweat uncontrollably. hair sticks to the side of your head and to your forehead, kate gently brushing them out of your face to keep that prolonged eye contact.

“you’re so beautiful, i swear.”

“hmphh—! you’re going too-“

you get cut off the second you feel the turns in your stomach and the blood rush to your face. that familiar feeling burns brightly in your belly and the knot that had been there forever finally becomes undone. you end up finishing, the overwhelming sensation dying down almost instantly.

kate rolls off of you and notices the water buildup in your eyes, her thumbs running across the bottom of them to wipe them away. she lets out a small sigh and scoots a little bit closer to you, eyeing down the hickeys she left on your skin. “i’m sorry, baby.” she whispers softly and cups your face with her palms.

her lips connect onto your neck and she peppers gentle kisses all over each hickey. the contrast from her rough nature to eventually turning into that natural soft, sweet woman you fell in love with the second she sees you like this. “let me fix you a warm bath, okay? for the troubles.” she whispers in between smooches, her hand snaking up your shirt, and her nails dragging softly against your back.

“duh. you know just how i like it.”

“why would i not.” she lets out a scoff and pulls away quickly, a small smile crossing her face when you agree. “was that a scoff?” you mutter and raise your eyebrows. hers do too, and her lips narrow into a straight line. “what about it?”

well, that was the small thing that got you here in the first place.

[steddieas-shegoes]

hiii not sure if you’re still taking requests but

no upside down au where teen single dad steve approaches eddie after hellfire bc every parenting stuff keeps mentioning how reading to babies is super important for their development but his dyslexia makes reading so hard let alone be expressive w it too and the kids keep mentioning how eddie is amazing on dnd. eddie is skeptical cause how come no ones has heard of king steve’s one year old ? but he accepts when steve offers paying but after seeing steve w his baby and understanding how he changed he refuses the money and cue them slowly falling in love and becoming a family <333

Sorry this took *checks watch* like 9 months to finish! I kinda took some creative turns, but it's done!

read on ao3

rated t | 5,182 words | no cw | tags: mostly fluff, single parent steve, not canon compliant, mutual pining, getting together, love confessions

📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚

Early August 1985

“Steve, it’s not like he’s gonna fuckin’ bite, dude,” Dustin said from the passenger seat.

“Language.”

“She’s not even awake,” Dustin whisper yelled. “I promise he’s cool. The worst he’ll say is no. It’s not like he’s gonna bully you.”

“No one else knows I’m asking him this, right?” Steve was suddenly worried that all the kids knew about Steve’s learning disability and they’d think he was actually stupid and-

“No, it’s just me. But if you don’t hurry up and go in before everyone else gets here, they’ll find out.”

Steve glanced in the backseat, smiling to himself at his sleeping daughter. She’d been out for nearly the entire drive from his house to Dustin’s to the high school, so she’d probably be waking up within the next 20 minutes and she’d be ready to stretch her legs.

She was a squirmy thing from the moment she figured out how to scoot around the floor, and it only got worse when she learned to walk at 11 months. The only time she was still and staying out of trouble was when she was asleep.

“If she starts crying, just sit back there with her. She just likes having company,” Steve reminded him as he unbuckled his seatbelt.

“Yep. I’ve literally babysat for you before. I can handle her for 5 minutes.”

“Attitude.” Steve shook his head and opened the door, getting out and only closing the door most of the way so it wouldn’t wake her up.

Eddie always showed up 30 minutes early for Hellfire Club to set up according to Dustin. He took this club very seriously, even as a third year senior. He kept it running all summer so that incoming freshmen would have time to get acquainted with his style of DMing or whatever.

Steve respected the dedication, though he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe that dedication were put into his homework, he would’ve graduated in May with Steve.

But Steve couldn’t actually judge. Not with the fact that he was pretty close to not graduating himself. He had a pretty good reason, but still.

The auditorium door closed loudly behind him, making him jump and clench his jaw painfully.

“Door’s broken. You gotta hold it while it closes so it doesn’t slam,” a voice said from the door to the backstage area.

Steve squinted through the semi-darkness and felt his stomach turn. Eddie.

“I guess it’s been a while since I’ve had to open it. Figured they would have fixed it by now,” Steve replied, walking closer to the guy he needed to talk to.

“No shit! Is that King Steve? In the flesh?” Eddie’s dramatics were endearing, even if it was slightly annoying that he pulled out the stupid high school nickname he’d lost well before he graduated.

“Yeah,” Steve sighed. This wasn’t gonna go well.

“Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but none of your precious kiddos have made it yet. It’s still early.”

Steve nodded. “One of them’s sitting in my car in the parking lot. Um, Henderson? He’s an incoming freshman.”

“Ah. Dustin’s got a place in Hellfire if you’re worried. I don’t turn anyone away who wants to be here.”

“No, no, that’s not it.” Steve needed to just spit it out. “He said you’re like, great at storytelling or whatever. Like you’re the best DM he’s ever seen and he knows I could use those skills for something.”

“Oh? What could Steve Harrington need DM skills for?”

“My daughter.”

The silence following his confession was louder than the door slamming only a minute ago.

He probably could’ve revealed his motives a little better, work up to the fact that he even had a daughter maybe. Very few people actually knew, and he had to keep it that way until he could leave his parent’s house.

“Your…daughter.”

“Yes. She’s just turned one and the doctors said reading to her is like, super important for learning words and helping her learn how to have an imagination and stuff. And I do read to her!” Steve suddenly felt worried that Eddie would think he was a bad parent. “I try to. But I’m, well, Nancy says it’s dyslexia? So words are kinda hard and it gives me a headache if I try to read for more than a few minutes and I’m so busy focusing on the words I don’t think I’m making it very fun for her-“

“Woah. Steve. Slow down.” Eddie braced his hand on Steve’s shoulder and squeezed. “I didn’t even know you had a daughter. Does anyone know you have a daughter?”

“The kids do, yeah. My parents do because they kinda helped cover it all up and made sure I still graduated so I didn’t embarrass them or whatever.” Steve looked down at the floor, shoving his hands in his pockets. He didn’t really want to go through the whole thing with this guy. “Robin Buckley knows? She’s my best friend. The Byers and Wheelers, Hopper. Some teachers know but were sworn to secrecy.”

“Huh.”

Steve looked up to see Eddie stepping closer to him, soft smile on his face.

“So what do you need me for exactly?”

“Dustin said you’re really good at telling stories and I figured maybe you would be willing to read to her? Not every day, like I can work with your schedule or whatever. Evening would be best for me, but it’s not really a big deal if it has to be other times. She comes to work with me so if it had to be during the day, you could sit in the office or something, I dunno.” Steve shrugged. He hated asking for help. But Dustin insisted Eddie was actually a good guy and would keep his secret. No one who saw her at work assumed Steve Harrington was a single parent at 18. That would just be absurd. “I just don’t want her to miss out.”

Eddie’s hand drifted down his arm, holding his hand for a moment before he stepped back.

“My schedule is kinda random. But I’m sure we can work something out.”

Steve’s shoulders fell as his body relaxed. “Yeah? I can pay you. Not much. My parents mostly cut me off.” Steve was scrambling. “I can give you gas money and stuff for having to come to us. And like, food? I can cook.”

Eddie’s eyes were intense, watching his every move, making him nervous.

“How ‘bout a free trial? I’ll do it for a couple weeks and then we can see about payment.”

Steve nodded eagerly. “Yeah, yeah. Cool.” Jesus, he was embarrassing. What happened to his charm? “Would you be able to start soon?”

“Normally, I’d say I can come by after Hellfire, but I have an…appointment right after tonight. I can come by tomorrow?”

Steve smiled. “Tomorrow’s good. I work until five.”

“I can be at your house by seven.”

“Great! I have plenty of books. Right now, she’s really into Old Macdonald, but I think it’s just because it sorta sounds like her name and we get to make silly noises,” Steve smiled to himself, not seeing the way Eddie was smiling too. “I think she’ll probably like whatever you read to her, though.”

“What’s her name?”

“Mackenzie. Robin read it in a book and said it meant fire-born or something? It sounded cool. We call her Mac or Kenzie for short so she hears Macdonald and thinks we’re giving her another nickname,” Steve laughed. “Anyway, I better get back to the car. If she’s awake and Dustin has to deal with her crying for too long, he gets an attitude.”

“Mackenzie. I like it.” Eddie nodded once. “See you tomorrow, Stevie.”

Steve agreed and waved, turning around to leave. By the time he realized Eddie’s nickname for him, Eddie was already backstage.

****

Steve was nervous.

He nearly burnt the chicken he was cooking for dinner just from getting distracted by thoughts of Eddie being in his home.

He didn’t even know why. Maybe it was the fact that he’d always thought Eddie was kinda rough around the edges and was surprised he’d agreed so easily. Maybe it was bringing someone new into the small group he’d had around for a couple years. Maybe it was the way Eddie’s hand on his shoulder seemed to leave a permanent mark despite being one of the softest touches he’d felt from another adult in a while.

Mackenzie was in her high chair already, eating some of the noodles he’d made as a side. She’d been practicing using a fork, so quite a few had fallen on the floor, but Steve still smiled and told her she did a great job any time she managed to get one to her mouth.

The doorbell rang and Steve felt his heart stop.

“Daddy!” Mackenzie squealed when the bell rang. She knew that usually meant Hopper was here. Everyone else just came inside on their own. “Hop!”

“No, baby, not Hop. Not tonight. It’s my friend, Eddie. He’s gonna tell you a fun story, okay?” Steve ran his hands through her hair as he walked by to get the door.

When he opened the door, Eddie was standing there with a handful of books, a box of crayons, and what looked like a hairbow.

“I’m here to entertain the princess!” Eddie exclaimed. “Lead me to her highness!”

Steve couldn’t hide the grin on his face if he wanted to. “She’s currently trying to stab noodles to death. I’m sure you’ll be entertained.”

“Ah, they must have wronged her. I’ll assist,” Eddie made his way past Steve, walking towards the kitchen.

Steve knew he’d been to a couple of the parties he threw to sell, but had no idea he remembered the layout of his house. Maybe he had one of those picture minds.

As Steve entered the kitchen, he noticed that Eddie had set down the pile of books on the counter before he sat down in front of Mackenzie.

There were a few books he recognized: an ABC book that he was pretty sure he’d had when he was a kid but had since lost, a book of fairy tales with Rapunzel on the cover, something by Beatrix Potter, and a couple of coloring books that featured princesses and dragons and horses.

“She isn’t really old enough to color, is she?” Steve asked, interrupting what must have been a very amusing conversation of mostly babbling. “I don’t have any coloring stuff.”

“Coloring with skill? No. She definitely doesn’t have the motor skills to color in the lines or even use the right colors for the right things. But it does help her learn how to hold a crayon. My uncle couldn’t really afford much when I was a baby, so for every Christmas until I was in school he would get me new crayons and coloring books. I don’t really remember how I did, but I do remember having fun.” Eddie turned back to Mackenzie. “And sometimes it’s fun to just make a mess, right?”

Mackenzie clapped her hands together, sending the toddler fork she’d been using to the floor with a noodle attached to it. Steve wordlessly grabbed one of her spoons from the drawer and gave it to her, kissing the top of her head before he knelt down to pick up the fork.

Eddie watched silently, something soft about the way he didn’t interrupt anything even though he could’ve kept talking.

“I made chicken and pasta. It’s probably not my best work, but I made enough for you if you haven’t eaten yet,” Steve offered as he walked to the stove to start plating the food for himself.

“I wouldn’t turn it down. Wayne’s not exactly known for serving five star meals,” Eddie joked. “He believes in the power of fried bologna and cheese sandwiches with a bag of chips.”

Steve grimaced. “Okay, well I made enough for you to bring home some leftovers too.”

“You don’t have to-”

“You’re taking home leftovers.”

Steve turned to see Eddie’s widened eyes and open mouth that slowly formed into a smile.

“I guess I’m taking home some leftovers.” He turned to Mackenzie and tickled her neck. “Your daddy is pushy isn’t he?”

Steve blushed, but continued making up a plate for Eddie.

As they sat and ate, Eddie talked about all of his favorite books for little kids, and how he remembered sneaking into the library after school for years because he knew he didn’t wanna go home. He talked about the first time a teacher wrote a positive letter home, an English teacher who said his fictional essay was the best in the class and he should consider writing as a career. He even talked about his plans for the school year campaigns, but made Steve swear not to mention anything to the kids.

“I’ll know if you tell them,” Eddie winked.

Steve believed him.

When they were done, Steve grabbed Mackenzie from her chair.

“I’m gonna give her a quick bath if you wanna bring all that stuff to her room. Second floor, third door on the right. It’s a little messy right now. Someone decided to pull all her toys from her box yesterday and I haven’t had time to clean it up,” Steve tickled Mackenzie’s side, making her giggle and turn her head into his shoulder.

“You need me to clean this up?” Eddie asked, gesturing to the table.

“Nah, I’ll do it while you read to her.”

Despite his efforts, bath time was never truly quick. Mackenzie loved to splash around and play with her toys, and if he tried to wash her hair too quickly, she would be grumpy for the rest of the night. He definitely didn’t want that for Eddie.

He set a timer for 10 minutes and tried to explain to a very excited Mackenzie that when the timer went off, it would be time to wash her hair and get out.

“You wanna have time to play with Eddie, so we can’t play for too long in the water.”

She didn’t seem to pay any attention to him, already too busy making her rubber duck fight with her mermaid Barbie.

He observed while she played, bringing in the rubber car she liked to pretend to drive on the side of the tub.

When the timer went off, she let him wash her hair without a fuss, and he quickly wrapped her up in a towel to get her into pajamas.

Eddie was waiting in her room when he got there, coloring books spread out on the floor. He smiled up at them from where he sat, legs crossed, hands in his lap.

“Squeaky clean?” He asked, waving at Mackenzie.

“Definitely lacking noodles in places noodles shouldn’t be at least,” Steve said, making his way to her changing table to get her dressed. “She must be pretty excited about you being here. Usually bath time takes at least 30 minutes and I have to bribe her with chocolate milk to get out.”

“She knows we’re gonna have a lot of fun. I think I’m gonna read Goodnight Moon first. That’s one of my favorites.”

“She’ll love that,” he said as he buttoned the snaps of her onesie.

As soon as he set her on the floor next to Eddie, she reached for a coloring book with a mermaid on it.

“Daddy! Muh!”

“Yeah, baby, it’s a mermaid! Just like your doll in the bath.” Steve pointed to the fish next to the mermaid. “And that’s a fish. Fish swim in the ocean.”

He felt Eddie’s eyes on him while he pointed to some other sea creatures and told Mackenzie what they were.

Eventually, he looked over at Eddie, blushing at the soft smile on his face. “What?”

“You’re a really good dad, Steve.”

“Oh. Uh. Thanks,” Steve felt heat flood his body.

It’s not that no one had ever said that to him. Robin had told him plenty of times, Joyce had whispered it to him when no one else was paying attention, even Hopper had given him a handshake and said he was doing a good job once. But hearing it from Eddie, in this situation, when he’d been feeling like such a failure lately, was enough to make him want to cry.

He had to get out of this room.

“I should go clean up and leave you to it.”

“Sure, yeah. We’ll be right here.”

Steve booked it out of the room, rushing down the stairs to try to get busy with cleaning before his brain settled on crying over a compliment.

But the table was cleared. The high chair was wiped down. When he turned to the sink, the dishes were stacked up to dry in the rack. The counters were wiped, the dish towel had been put back on the handle of the oven to dry, and leftovers had been put in a container to finish cooling down.

Steve let the tears fall.

Fuck it, if Eddie was going to be this nice, he could have a little cry.

He walked quietly to the bathroom to put all the bath toys in the basket, but stopped outside Mackenzie’s bedroom when he heard giggling.

He’d closed the door halfway, just so she wouldn’t get too distracted if he walked by the room, but he couldn’t help looking in.

He felt like crying again when he saw Mackenzie sitting on Eddie’s lap, pointing at something in the book.

“Where’s the moon?” Eddie asked.

“Moo!” Mackenzie said, smacking at a place in the book.

“There’s the moon! Good job, little one.” Mackenzie leaned back against Eddie’s chest. “And where’s the…toys?”

She pointed again, but slightly less enthusiastically. Steve could see her energy dropping quickly.

He watched as Eddie told her she did a good job again and then continued reading.

Her eyes drooped more with every page. Eddie’s voice got closer to a whisper with every sentence.

Steve fell just a little bit more with every second that passed.

*****

October 1985

Eddie came every day. Despite the fact that Steve insisted he didn’t need to, that he didn’t want to ruin his schedule, Eddie showed up like clockwork at seven every single evening.

Steve learned to expect him, always made enough dinner for all of them to enjoy before Mackenzie had her bath and then got to read with Steve.

Every night, Eddie would clean up while she took a bath, and every night, he’d let her pick a page to color while he read something to her, switching to a bedtime story when she started crawling into his lap.

Steve would watch them often, laying down on the carpet and smiling as he listened to Eddie use different voices for characters, asking her questions so she was involved, and whispering when she started to drift off.

Other times, he’d try to get something done he’d been putting off, like cleaning the bathroom or folding laundry.

Eddie never accepted payment.

Steve tried bringing it up once school started, certain that this time spent here could’ve been better spent on homework or a part-time job that paid better than what Steve could offer. Eddie just shook his head and insisted that other than Hellfire every Thursday, he would be there for free.

They got to know each other over dinner, and Steve found that he was right to have butterflies every time Eddie smiled at him, every time he would touch his hand as he walked by to say hi to Mackenzie.

“Halloween costume ideas?” Eddie asked with his mouth full. Steve had given up long ago on trying to get him to wait until he was done chewing. It wasn’t that big of a deal. “What did this little miss go as last year?”

“Oh. She was a bumblebee.” Steve smiled at the memory. “Cutest costume I saw all night.”

“I bet.” Eddie took a sip of his water. “And you?”

“Oh, I didn’t dress up.”

“What? Why not?” Eddie sounded genuinely upset.

“Just got away from me, I guess? By the time I thought about it, nothing good was left at the store,” Steve shrugged, unbothered. He’d never been that into Halloween. His focus was making sure Mackenzie had fun.

“And no one offered to help you make something?” Eddie was no longer eating and Mackenzie had turned her attention to him when his tone became serious.

“I didn’t ask.”

“But no one offered.” Eddie stood up and walked over to his backpack. “Okay, we’ve gotta plan. Did you already pick something for her?”

He came back holding a notebook and a pencil, brows set in a straight line. Steve had never seen him look so serious.

“I had a few ideas, but I wanted to let her pick something at the store,” Steve said.

“Lay them on me.”

They discussed costumes for the next 30 minutes, but after only 10, Mackenzie whined to get out of her chair. Eddie wordlessly stood up and picked her up, setting her in his lap and letting her poke and prod at him and his notebook.

Steve watched them both, accepting for the first time that this wasn’t just a crush that was gonna go away.

He’d fallen completely head over heels for Eddie, and he had no clue what to do about it.

*****

November 1985

Steve was the only one who had space to host Thanksgiving.

He became manic a week before, realizing that his work schedule would not allow him to have much time to clean unless he did it at night. The problem was that he would get a migraine if he didn’t sleep.

“So let’s work on it together. I can come right after school. Cancel Hellfire this week,” Eddie offered.

“But you already won’t have it next week because of Thanksgiving. I can’t ask you to-”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering. If I’m gonna be eating here, I should probably help clean up at least.”

So they worked on a little at a time.

Eddie wasn’t always helpful, getting distracted by some of the smallest things. But his company was appreciated all the same.

“You could invite Wayne, ya know,” Steve offered while he dusted the shelves in the living room. “Plenty of room and food.”

“Thanks, but he always works Thanksgiving day for the double pay. We usually do something the day after,” Eddie answered while he cleaned up all of Mackenzie’s toys.

“If he decides not to work, just let him know.”

“Will do, Stevie.”

He didn’t just help clean, he helped him do the shopping, too.

“I know it’s way harder with a baby, so if you give me a list, I can handle the shopping,” Eddie said while Steve plated their dinners.

“You don’t-”

“Have to, I know. But I can and will.” Eddie’s hand brushed against Steve’s lower back. “Let me help.”

Steve could barely resist the shiver that took over his entire body.

“Okay. Sure.”

Some of the brands were wrong, and he forgot the apples for the apple pie, but Steve still felt immense relief knowing that he had someone to help.

And without it, Thanksgiving would’ve been a disaster.

It was still a bit of a mess, but that was mostly because the kid’s table turned into a food fight that Max started and Mackenzie, of course, continued, until everyone was involved.

But the picture Jonathan took would get framed and hang up near the fireplace in the living room anyway.

******

December 1985

“I cannot believe you waited until Christmas Eve to wrap gifts. That’s not what parents actually do, is it?” Eddie asked as he fought with the tape dispenser for the fifth time in less than an hour.

“I don’t know if I’m the best judge of what parents do. Mine weren’t around much and probably didn’t even wrap my gifts themselves.” Steve took the tape from him, pulled some loose from the roll, and handed it back. “But I kinda always pictured it like this.”

Robin made him swear he’d talk to Eddie about his feelings before the end of the year. The end of the year was soon, real soon.

What better shot did he have than while Mackenzie was asleep and they were wrapping presents together?

“You pictured last minute wrapping with bribed help in your living room?” Eddie asked, amusement in his tone.

“Not exactly,” Steve huffed out a laugh. “More like spoiling my kid with someone I care about.”

Steve watched Eddie’s hands freeze against the clothes box full of new finger puppets they’d both gotten her. He looked over and felt his stomach swoop as Eddie’s eyes found his.

“Stevie-” Eddie set the box down and turned to face Steve.

“Wait, I just. Before you break my heart, hear me out.” Steve already felt his world shrinking, his heart rabbiting in his chest at the thought of losing Eddie entirely. “I’ve spent a lot of time with you for months. Like, more than almost anyone else. I’ve watched you with Kenzie, and how much she loves you and always asks for ‘Ed’ even when it’s way before when you’re gonna be here. You make me smile and laugh and that’s not always easy to do these days. You helped me when you didn’t have to, when you had absolutely no reason to trust that King Steve was a better person. You’re there for all the other kids even though you’re trying to get through school for real this time. I didn’t really plan a big speech, sorry. This is just rambling, I’m doing what Robin does.”

“It’s okay,” Eddie placed his hand on the side of Steve’s neck. “I get what you’re saying.”

“You do?”

“I think so.” Eddie stepped in closer. “But I think you might just be lonely.”

It stung. It wasn’t inaccurate, but it still hurt to think Eddie thought so little of him.

“I think I know how I feel.”

Eddie’s hand dropped from his neck and he took a step back. “I don’t wanna argue, Stevie. I just think you might need to separate yourself from the situation. I’m just always around, ya know?”

“You’re always around because I want you around!” Steve was just a bit too loud, but he knew Mackenzie was a heavy sleeper. “When you aren’t here, I check the clock to know when you will be. I get excited to leave work now because I’m not coming home to do the same thing I always did before. I get to see you and hear about your day and talk to you about mine and see you with my daughter, who probably loves you as much as I do.”

“You…love me?”

“Yes. I do. And I promise it’s okay if you don’t feel the same. I still want you here, reading to Kenzie. But I know how I feel. I know why I feel the way I do. You can’t tell me how to feel.”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to.” Eddie sighed. “I’m just kinda surprised. Didn’t expect you to be into guys, let alone me. I’m not exactly good boyfriend material. Or stepparent material, either.”

“Oh, fuck that. You’re more her other parent than her mom ever was. She gave her to me the moment she had her and wished me luck before her entire family moved across the country.” Steve felt tears in his eyes. “I trust you. I want you around. I love you.”

Eddie swallowed, eyes pointed towards the carpet.

A minute passed, two. It was rapidly approaching awkward when finally Eddie spoke.

“But I’m so bad at wrapping presents.”

Steve snorted, but felt relief wash over him. “I can do the wrapping. This Christmas, next Christmas, as many Christmases as you’ll stay.”

“All of them?”

“Sounds good to me.” Steve leaned in slowly, let his hands grasp at the front of Eddie’s shirt to pull him closer. “How many Christmases do kids usually believe in Santa?”

“I dunno. I stopped believing when I caught my dad stealing the two presents under our tree when I was four.” Eddie let his hands fall to Steve’s hips. “But something tells me the little princess will be a believer for a while. Better get used to me ripping holes in the paper and using too much tape.”

“Think I can handle it.”

Every time Steve had pictured kissing Eddie before this, he’d thought it would be like any other first kiss, maybe a little awkward since it was his first with a guy.

Instead, it was soft, sweet, slow, perfect. He’d kissed a lot of girls in high school, had kissed them well. Not all of them were great, but even a less than good kiss was still decent.

This was more than any other kiss he’d ever had.

Eddie held him like he would never let go, like this kiss would last forever.

It couldn’t, but that’s how it felt.

When they finally pulled apart, Steve rested his head on Eddie’s shoulder.

“You wanna stay tonight? We can both do the Santa gifts with Kenzie before all the kids bother us,” Steve asked.

“I should call Wayne. I told him I’d be home by midnight.”

“He can come over in the morning, too,” Steve said. “If you want.”

“Are you sure you’re ready for Wayne? He can be a little…gruff.”

“I’m not worried,” Steve kissed Eddie’s cheek. “Hopper’s basically my dad. Plus, Mac’s got a way of breaking the tough old men down.”

“Bets?”

Steve pulled away and started wrapping another present before he got too distracted. “I give it ten minutes.”

“Oh, how generous. I’m giving it five.”

They both laughed as Eddie decided he’d be more help putting already wrapped presents in her stocking and under the tree and making sure everything was put away when Steve was done.

And for the first time, Eddie stayed the night, holding Steve against his chest while they slept.

They both cried when Mackenzie opened her presents excitedly. She was too little to do it herself last year, so seeing her tear through the paper and find joy in throwing it around the room was like a dream come true for Steve.

Eddie admitted he felt like he was intruding for some of it, but Steve quickly reminded him that he was the first person she toddled over to with her new set of princess books and said “Ed, read.”

She sat in his lap right then, even though she still had quite a few presents to open, and he read every single book to her, making her giggle with his high-pitched voices for the princesses and silly accent for the prince.

By the time the kids were coming through the front door, Steve was rushing to shush them, pointing at the couch where Eddie was passed out with Mackenzie curled up against his side.

Steve was never happier than in this moment.

Until the next one, and the one after that.

[communicationthroughlyrics]

I Work Too Hard, Can You Fuckin' Pay Me?

Part 7 - Y/N moved to escape some of thier looming troubles from Westview, to the place that their best friend said would make a difference. New job, new digs, will Y/N make a change for the better, or leave another city with their tail between their legs?

TW: Angst, Intersex reader, reader has some... not so great coping habits, sexual tension

Word Count: 2.3K

Read Pt. 1 HERE Read Pt. 2 HERE Read Pt. 3 HERE Read Pt. 4 HERE Read Pt. 5 HERE Read Pt. 6 HERE

You Say You Want Me, But You Know I'm Not What You Need

Pietro's words weighed heavy on you throughout your work week as you buried yourself in your latest projects. Every time you thought about Wanda, which was more than you cared to admit, the conversation with her brother- and your best friend echoed in your mind. It was like he had peeled back the layers of your defenses and seen right through to the fear that was holding you back. You knew he was right, that you couldn't live your life in fear, but the thought of hurting her was paralyzing.

Friday evening finally rolled around, and with it, the promise of the weekend. You decided to visit the local bar, hoping the noise and the company of strangers would help distract you from your tumultuous thoughts. As you sipped your beer, you watched the crowd, their laughter, and chatter creating a wall of white noise that you wished could drown out the voice in your head. A voice that had been echoing in the depths of your mind since that night you had shared with her.

As you were lost in thought, the door of the bar swung open, and Wanda walked in, looking radiant despite the sadness that still lingered in her eyes. You felt your heart drop as she scanned the room, and when she saw you, she paused, her gaze lingering for a moment before she turned away. You knew you couldn't avoid her forever. You downed the rest of your drink and approached her, your steps feeling heavier with each inch that brought you closer.

"Hey," you said softly, trying to keep your voice from cracking. She turned to face you, her eyes wary but open. "Can we talk?"

Wanda nodded, and you led her to a quieter corner of the bar, the neon lights casting a soft glow on her features. You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "Pietro came to talk to me," you began, watching the way her expression tightened. "He's worried about you."

Wanda looked down at her drink, her fingers playing with the condensation on the glass. "I know," she murmured. "I've been avoiding him too." You tried to ignore the pang in your chest, feeling like you had caused this. She was avoiding you, which made sense. But she was also avoiding her brother.

"Wanda," you started, "I need to tell you something." She met your gaze, her eyes searching for something you weren't sure you could provide. "I've been thinking about that night. And what happened between us." She nodded slightly, her expression unreadable. "I'm sorry I pushed you away. I'm just...scared."

She looked up, the sadness in her eyes shimmering with a hint of anger. "Scared of what, Y/N?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

You took a deep, shaky breath, trying to find the right words. "Scared of losing you," you admitted. "Scared of hurting you. Scared of not being enough." You looked down at the table, finding the rough texture suddenly interesting. "My last relationship, it…it was a mess. And it isn't fair to you," you took a deep breath, feeling her hands slide into your nervous ones. "I don't want it to feel like I am taking my issues out on you."

Wanda's grip tightened, giving you a gentle squeeze. "Y/N, I'm not just anyone," she said, her voice firm. "I know you're going through stuff, but so am I. And I know we can work through it together." She paused, her thumb tracing small circles on the back of your hand. "But if you don't want to, if you think we can't, then I'll respect that."

You swallowed hard, looking into her eyes and seeing the hurt you had caused. "It's not that," you said, your voice cracking. "It's just that I've hurt so many people before. And I don't know if I can handle it if I hurt you too."

Wanda leaned in closer, her voice soft but firm. "But what if we don't let fear dictate our future? What if we take a chance, and maybe, just maybe, it's the best thing for both of us? We can also help each other, Y/N."

You felt your resolve wavering, the warmth of her touch and the sincerity in her words reaching deep within you. "I want that," you whispered, "but I'm so scared."

"So am I," she started, gripping your hands tighter to help reassure you. "Your reputation proceeds you, Y/N. Pietro definitely told me a lot about you before you moved here." She took a deep breath, looking into your eyes. "But I've seen a different side of you. One that is kind, caring, and...scared." She gave a small laugh, trying to lighten the mood. "I'm taking a risk, too, you know. I've never felt this way before."

Her confession hit you like a ton of bricks, and suddenly, the bar didn't seem so crowded anymore. It was just you and Wanda, in your own little bubble. "Wanda," you whispered, leaning closer to her, "I can't explain what it is. There is this pull, I just want to be around you. I think about you constantly."

Wanda's smile was faint but genuine. "Then why are we fighting it?" she asked, her voice filled with hope.

You took a deep breath, feeling your chest tighten. "Because I don't know if I can give you what you need," you confessed. "I don't know if I can be the person you deserve."

"Let me decide that, Y/N." Wanda's voice was steady, her eyes unwavering. "You can't live your life assuming the worst."

You searched her eyes, looking for any sign of doubt or hesitation. But all you found was a determination that mirrored your own. "I know," you began, leaning back into the booth you were seated in. "I can't help but think the worst. I've been told, over and over that I am the worst. I don't want to find out what will happen if you were to think that too."

Wanda reached out and placed a hand on your cheek, her touch tender and reassuring. "Y/N, I'm not everyone else. I know you better than you think, and I know that you're trying."

You couldn't deny the warmth that spread through you at her touch, or the way your heart skipped a beat when she said she knew you. You leaned into her hand, feeling the tension in your shoulders ease slightly. "But what if I'm not good enough?" you murmured, your voice filled with doubt.

Wanda leaned closer, her thumb brushing gently against your cheekbone. "I wouldn't have kissed you in the first place if you weren't, Y/N. You're more than enough," she said, her eyes searching yours. "And if you ever doubt that, I'll be here to remind you."

The bar was a blur around you, the noise fading away as you focused on her. You felt the weight of your decision lighten slightly, the fear of losing her still there but tempered by the hope of what could be. You took a deep breath and nodded. "Promise?"

Wanda leaned in, her breath warm against your cheek. "I promise," she whispered, and with that, she kissed you. It was soft and gentle, a stark contrast to the passion of that night under the stars. But it was filled with something else—something deeper, something more profound. It was a promise of understanding and support, of patience and growth.

Your eyes fluttered closed as you kissed her back, feeling the tension in your body melt away. The world around you disappeared, leaving only the two of you in the quiet corner of the bar. The kiss grew more urgent, as you slid your way around the corner booth so your hands could find their way to her waist, pulling her closer. It felt right like you were finally letting go of the fear that had been holding you back.

She pulled away, resting her forehead against yours. "That night," you began, looking into her darkened gaze. "It took everything in me to not walk back over and just kiss you."

Wanda's eyes searched yours, the unspoken words hanging in the air between you. "What stopped you?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"My own crippling fear?" you let out a soft chuckle, feeling the warmth of her breath on your skin. "I didn't want to mess up what we had," you admitted. "And I didn't know if I was ready to deal with the fallout."

Wanda leaned back, her eyes searching yours. "But you are now?" she asked, hopeful.

You took a deep breath, the warmth of her body pressing against yours. "I don't think I ever will be," you said, feeling a newfound sense of determination. "But, I'm ready to try."

Wanda's eyes searched yours, a spark of hope igniting in them. "Okay," she said softly. "Let's take this one step at a time." she winked, "But maybe don't run away from me anymore, yeah?"

You couldn't help but laugh, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders. "Deal," you said, smiling. The rest of the night was a blur of laughter and stolen glances, a tentative dance of flirty banter and comforting touches. It was like the universe had taken a deep breath and finally allowed you to move forward.

"Dance?" she asked, standing as the floor began to get more crowded.

You nodded, feeling a rush of excitement. You had seen how she danced before, and the thought of dancing with her had your heart racing. You slid out of the booth, taking her hand in yours and leading her to the dance floor. The music was loud, but it didn't matter. You wrapped your arms around her waist, and she placed her hands on your shoulders, looking into your eyes as you began to move together. It was as if the world had stopped turning, and the only thing that mattered was the way she felt in your arms.

The rhythm of the music was infectious, and before you knew it, you were lost in the moment, your bodies moving in sync. You could feel the chemistry between you, the same spark that had been there the night of your first kiss. But this time, it didn't feel forbidden or wrong. It felt right. As you spun her around, her back now to your front. You leaned down and whispered into her ear. "I'm sorry for pushing you away, for being such a coward."

Wanda leaned back into you, her hands resting on your chest. "You're not a coward," she murmured. "You're just scared."

You pulled her closer, her back pressing against you. "I don't want to be scared anymore," you confessed. "I want to be with you." She ran her hands up your neck, carding through your hair and raking her nails on your scalp. The feeling sent goosebumps across your body.

Wanda leaned her head back against your shoulder, looking up at you. "Then let's not be," she whispered, and you felt the final piece of your wall crumble. The bar's lights flickered and danced in her eyes, casting an otherworldly glow. You bent down and kissed her again, the music swelling around you like a crescendo. It was a kiss that spoke of all the unspoken words, of the fears you had both been holding onto.

You both continued swaying to the music, your bodies fitting together perfectly as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The bar patrons around you melted away, leaving only the pulsing beat and the sound of each other's breaths. Wanda's hand snaked around your neck, her touch sending a warm jolt through your body, and you tightened your hold around her waist. You felt alive, more alive than you had in a long time. She turned around in your grasp, pressing herself up against you.

The music changed, the tempo slowing down, and you two matched it, moving in a sensual rhythm that had your heart racing. Wanda's eyes searched yours, and you knew she could see the conflict within you, the fear and hope battling it out. But she didn't push, she didn't ask for more than you could give. She just danced with you, her body a silent reassurance that you weren't alone.

The night grew later, the crowd thinner, and you found yourselves leaning against the bar, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. Her laughter was music to your ears, and the way she leaned into you made your heart swell with something you hadn't allowed yourself to feel in a long time—happiness.

"Want to get out of here?" Wanda's question was barely audible over the music, but you heard the hope in her voice.

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "Yeah," you said, taking a step back to let her lead the way. As you followed her through the crowded bar, you couldn't help but feel like you were being reborn. The night air was cool against your skin as you stepped outside, and you took a deep breath, feeling it fill your lungs with a newfound sense of freedom.

"I guess I'll see you at home?" you asked, knowing you both brought your own cars. Wanda nodded, a shy smile playing on her lips. "Yeah, unless you want to come over?" The question hung in the air, filled with a tentative hope that had your heart skipping a beat.

"Sure," you laughed. "I'll be over once I change out of this," you motioned towards your work attire, wiggling your eyebrows.

"Actually," she started, biting her lip as she pulled you into her with your disheveled tie. "I was hoping I could help with that..." The look in her eyes was hopeful, tinged with lust. "Unless you want to wait, that is."

You felt your heart thud in your chest, the warmth of her body making your head swim with desire. "No," you murmured, your voice thick with want. "I don't want to wait. I think we've done enough of that.”

[luxthestrange]

Beastars Incorrect Quotes#36 Losers~

This is a song I feel resonates with...Pretty much Louis, Pina, Bill,Riz, Legos-But imagine singing this to the club members... herbivores and carnivores...

Y/n*After seeing and hearing everyone's pasts...while others were piece of work, You look at your clubmates, You sighs and stand on the stage*...

So things look bad, and your back's against the wall Your whole existence seems fuckin' hopeless You're feelin' filthy as a dive bar bathroom stall and Can't face the world proudly and dopeless~

You've lost your way, ya think your life is wrecked Well, let me just say you're correct~

Louis*Is sitting down, feeling the worst then eyes widen confused at you* Wait, what?

Y/n*Smirking at him taking dancing steps back with a beat In your step,making a "L" with your finger on your forehead and looking at everyone* You're a loser, baby A loser, goddamn, baby You're a fucked up little whiny bitch~

Lous*Offended seeing you dance around him mocking him* Hey!

Y/n*Dancing around Bill now with a smirk* You're a loser, just like me~

Bill*Rolling eyes and gives you the bird* Thanks, asshole

Y/n*Smilling as you twirl Juno and making a "crazy" finger at Riz You're a screws loose Loser An only one-star reviews-er

Y/n*Twerking and laying dramatically in the floor pointing at Pina*You're a power-bottom at rock bottom But you got company~

Drama Club: This supposed to make me/Us feel better?!

Y/n*Looking at your own reflection and thinking about your past of your own past...and traumas* There was a time I thought no one could relate To the gruesome ways in which I'm damaged But lettin' walls down, it can sometimes set you straight! We're all livin' in the same shit-sandwich

Louis*Looking at his own hands at all the damage and hurt he caused others from his less-than-ethical deeds and now people close to him and what he did...just to survive for his father*...I sold my soul to a psychopathic freak -

Y/n*Snickers at that and raises a brow at him, Holding a hand out for him to take to spin him around gleefully and patting his cheek...then rolls eyes* Haha! And you think that makes you unique? Get outta here, man!~ We're both losers, baby We're losers, it's okay to be a~

As everyone stated their own truth about themselves

Y/n*Getting close to Juno with a smile* Baby, that's fine by me~

Juno*Smiles and starts to get into the groove and proudly singing* I'm a loser, honey~ A schmoozer and a dummy But at least I know I'm not alone~

You then finally reach Legoshi and hold your hand out for him to grab...which he does as you pull him into the light

Both of you in harmony: You're a loser, Just like me~

Legoshi*Leans on your back and looks at you affectionately* You're a loser, baby~

Y/n: A loser, but just maybe if we~

Both of you: Eat shit together, things will end up differently

Y/n*Both of you start to dance in each other's arms as you sing to him your feelings* It's time to lose your self-loathin' Excuse yourself, let hope in, baby Play your card, be who you are~

Legoshi*Swinging with you and stepping on beat*OOOoooooh~

Both of you holding each other's hands as you gaze into each other's eyes: A loser, just like meeeee!~

[bapple117]

Chapter 2 of Heaven is a Halfpipe (Adam x Succubus!Reader) is now up! 💖

💕 Read it on AO3 HERE! 💕

A little snippet:

“Don’t you talk at all, sweetness?” You say, laughing through the words with melodic appeal. “You’re just as quiet as that bartender in there. I didn’t peg you as the silent type, I gotta say.”

“What the fuck would I have to say to you?” Adam grunts out bitterly. “Demon scum.”

A less hardened succubus might take offence to this - she might flounce off, huffing, her night ruined. But you… You’re used to humans saying all kinds of things. It doesn’t affect you. You’re entertained by this - and by God, do you love an uphill battle. The view at the top is nearly always worth it.

“Here’s a little secret,” you whisper, flirtatious and conspiratorial. “We don’t gotta talk at all, if you don’t want, baby. I’m a big believer in letting the body do the talking.”

“Jesus! Christ, can you just, maybe, fuckin’, I dunno, cool it?” Adam says, his expression creasing into a combination of repulsion and confusion. “Fuck, like. Shit. Just fuckin’… Enough of that shit, okay? I’m not gonna fuck you. Shit!”

“Alright, alright!” You chirp, grinning, leaning back, palms out in front of you in a display of surrender. “I’ll keep my horns in check, honey. I’m just glad I got you to say something at all. Why you sittin’ out here all alone, anyway, huh? All on your lonesome?”

Lost for words, Adam lets out a strange half-sigh, his jaw slackening. He groans to himself in frustration, his hand - long fingers, you notice - coming up to claw at his own mask. 

“Can you just fuck off and get out of my face?” Adam tries, but he doesn’t sound convincing. He sounds… tired.

“You’re not sleeping good, huh, sugar?” You say, needling for a point of vulnerability. “You drinkin’ your nights away hoping they’ll feel a little less shitty, hmm?”

“Oh fuck you,” Adam bites out. “What the fuck do you know about me? You’re just some fuckin’, horny, demon bitch. You don’t know shit about me.”

“I know a lonely soul when I see one,” you say, gently, shrugging; the movement causes a susurrus of coat fluff around your shoulders. “I know someone who looks like they could use some company, to share a smoke with. Must be a helluva change of scenery being down here for you, hmm? That’s gotta be tough on a guy.”

You’re laying it on thicker than treacle, but the flirty female-saviour schtick has never failed you in winning over a sad sack yet; in your experience, you know that all these types of men want is a mother and a whore rolled in one. Luckily, your speciality is fulfilling this exact niche - it makes you endlessly popular on Earth. 

Adam is a tougher case, to be sure, but you can see the hesitation in his movements. He falters, unsure what to say - and there! There it is; the hint of vulnerability in his eyes, the downward turn of sadness in his mouth, his dejection in the slump of his robed shoulders. Oh, he’s down on his luck, alright - and feeling it, piercingly so. 

“How about this. I go get us a drink each, and you let me sit here just as long as it takes us to finish it, and then I’ll leave you be. Hmm? How’s that sound?”

Read the full thing here!

[icyharrington]

would there be any way for you to write a scenario where //plus size reader// is tutoring eddie in algebra and he asks you what you want out of it, so you ask him to tutor you in giving blowjobs because you’ve never done it and he’s taken aback,,, nsfw, lots of praise, gentle eddie pls 🥺💛

haiii okay so! i have another plus size request in my inbox rn so i decided to just make this one for anybody! so yea im sorry about that also eddie's a SMIDDGEEEE rough in this (not super rough tho, like just a tiny bit of hair pulling and pushing ur head down to deepthroat) cuz i forgot that you asked for gentle eddie but he's still pretty soft in this. so yea this took me ridiculously long to write for no reason so i hope y'all like it lmfaooo

contains: blowjobs, deepthroating, inexperienced reader, praise kink, soft dom eddie, dirty talk, hair pulling

wc: 3.3k

“I’m sorry, I just don’t see the point in any of this,” Eddie says, after a several-minute-long period of silent staring at the math textbook that sits in between you. You’re sitting on the cluttered carpeting of his bedroom, with both of your backs propped up against the side of his bed. “Where the hell are all these letters coming from? It’s like they’re purposely trying to make this as confusing as possible.”

You shake your head, leaning over to take a closer look at the text. “The letters are just placeholders for other numbers. You have to solve the equation to find out what they are.” 

“What am I, Sherlock Holmes?!” he exclaims, throwing his hands up in an exaggerated show of defeat. Eddie’s a smart guy, but math is certainly not one of his strong suits, which is why you’re here in the first place to tutor him. You’re not exactly a math genius yourself, but you’ve been managing to pull B’s and A’s all semester in algebra, and with Eddie assigned to the seat right next to yours, it didn’t take very long for him to catch on. 

He’d started out copying your answers during tests, attempting to come off as inconspicuous despite him breathing down your neck to get a glimpse at your work. When you finally called him out for it, he’d been apologetic and somewhat embarrassed, which made you feel sorry for him; wanting to help, it was then that you offered to give him a few free tutoring sessions. 

Eddie brings his knees up and settles his elbows against them, the heels of his palms pressing into his forehead in exasperation. “Honestly, (y/n), thank you for offering to tutor me, but I think I’m a lost cause.” 

“You’re not a lost cause, Eddie. You just need to study more,” you say, reaching out to place a hand on his denim-clad shoulder. “I bet if we do a couple more sessions you’ll be able to land a C on next week’s test.” 

Eddie peeks at you from between his hands, the yellow overhead light reflecting brightly in the dark roundness of his eyes. “No way. You’re not giving me any more free tutoring sessions.” 

“I don’t mind helping you, Eddie,” you say, patting him where your hand still lays. And it’s true- while he might be difficult to teach, he’s still a good-natured, funny guy, and you’ve grown to enjoy his company. In fact, you’ve even began to detect the faintest hint of a crush in the pit of your stomach, having been charmed by his smile and laugh and general mischievous demeanor. With Eddie being Eddie, though, it’s almost impossible to tell if he feels the same way, since he’s always putting on a show, never allowing his true emotions to show through his theatrical exterior. “I like hanging out with you.”

“Really? I kind of just assumed you found me annoying,” he grins, dropping his large hands to settle them atop his slender thighs. “But still- I’m not going to milk your generosity any more than I already have. I might be poor, but I’m not a fuckin’ bum.” 

“Well, maybe you can just do me a favor or something?” You scratch your chin pensively, racking your brain for something you could ask Eddie to do for you. What could a guy like Eddie Munson do for you, anyway? 

“What kind of a favor?” Eddie questions, apparently just as perplexed as you are, his head cocking to one side. “Man, I wish there was something I could tutor you in, but, uh, I’m kind of failing most of my classes.” 

You chew on your bottom lip for a moment, his statement jumping out to you for a reason you’re unsure of. You glance at Eddie’s sheepish face as he tucks a strand of dark hair behind one ear, drumming the fingers of his opposite hand against his thigh; you can’t help but find him ridiculously handsome when he’s like this, all shy and indecisive, and you ignore the sudden urge to lean in and kiss him. 

You try to imagine how Eddie would react if you were to make a pass at him; you’re fairly inexperienced, so you haven’t gotten much practice in the department of flirting, which makes you worry you might say something idiotic if you try. 

Licking your lips, you shrug noncommittally, praying that your face doesn’t reveal your current topic of thought. “Maybe you could tutor me in something, like, not school-related.”

“Such as?” Eddie surveys you with his big eyes, blinking rapidly to communicate his impatience with you. “Listen, (y/n). I’m really not good enough at anything to be a tutor.”

Shifting, you toy with an idea that’s begun to form in the back of your mind, inflicting a sudden sense of urgency in your gut. It’s risky, but so tempting, with him this close to you. 

“There’s still things that you know more about than I do,” you start, fidgeting with the hem of your sweater as a means of avoiding his eyes. You’re easing your way in now, testing the waters, and holy fuck, are you scared. “Y’know, like music, dungeons and dragons… and other stuff.”

“What other stuff?” Eddie says skeptically, crossing his tattooed arms across the front of his beloved Hellfire tee. “Those are the only two things I even do. I’m a simple guy.” 

“Well…” you mutter, hugging your legs closely to your chest in an act of self-soothing. You’re running purely on adrenaline now, numb to the doubtful thoughts that nag at you incessantly. “Do you remember yesterday, when we were talking about that rumor that went around about you?”

He furrows his brows, obviously caught off guard by your seemingly random change in subject. “The one about Cheryl giving me a blowjob in the prop closet? I already told you, (y/n), that wasn’t a rumor.” 

Cheryl is Eddie’s acquaintance from his times working backstage for the school plays, and the thought of her flirting with Eddie with her high-pitched voice and bleach-blond hair makes you want to throw up. You hadn’t known she was the type to give blowjobs, and at school, no less; the information had been enough to make your head spin- was everybody at Hawkins getting more action than you?

“I know,” you say slowly, stretching your legs out to recline in front of you. “That’s the ‘other stuff’ I’m talking about. You actually have a sex life, I don’t.” 

Eddie chuckles, looping his fingers into one of the frayed tears on the front of his jeans. “I’m not, like, a sex god or anything like that. I’ve just fooled around a few times, that’s all.” 

“Yeah, but at least you have an idea of what you’re doing.” There’s a gnawing anxiety creeping up within you, and you want to smack Eddie over the head just for being so damn clueless. Peering at him from underneath a veil of dark-painted lashes, you can see the confusion in his face, but to your relief, he doesn’t seem upset by your persistence- maybe this won’t end so horribly, after all. “Sometimes I just get nervous, y’know? ‘Cause what if I meet someone I want to fool around with, but I make a complete idiot out of myself because I don’t know anything?” 

Eddie lifts his gaze to meet with yours, a half-smile making its way across his full lips. Fuck- is he starting to pick up what you’re putting down? You feel your heart skip a beat, palms prickling with sweat as he opens his mouth to speak. “What exactly are you asking me for right now, (y/n)? ‘Cause if I didn’t know any better…”

His words trail off, pink tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip as he observes you quizzically; he’s unsure of himself, with a visible heat flooding the pale expanse of his cheeks. After a prolonged beat, you say, “maybe you could show me how to do it right? So it feels good?”

For the first time since you’ve met, Eddie Munson is speechless. His skin darkens to an even more conspicuous shade of burgundy, his arm lifting to scratch at the back of his neck, and you begin to wonder if you made a mistake. 

“Do…what right?” he asks you, though the tone of his voice tells you that he’s already well aware of what you mean. “You want me to tutor you in-“

“-blowjobs. Yeah.” You cut him off without really meaning to, but it’s not like your mind is focused on trivial things like manners at a time like this. “I mean- only if you want to, obviously.”

He stares at you blank-faced before breaking out into a wild grin, amused giggles bubbling up from the back of his throat. “You want me to repay you- by letting you give me head? Kinda sounds like more of a benefit for me than you, hon.” 

“Just ‘cause it benefits you doesn’t mean it won’t benefit me, too.” You subtly inch your way closer to Eddie until your hips are side-by-side, encouraged to continue when he doesn’t back away. “I wanna know what it’s like.”

“You sure you’re in your right mind right now?” Eddie says wryly, sizing you up, adorning you with goosebumps at the invisible sensation of his dark eyes dragging up and down your body. “You didn’t get into my stash or something while I was in the bathroom?” 

“I’m very much sober, Eddie,” you assure him, hesitating as you prepare to go even further, your palm finally dropping to rest on his thigh. He stirs ever-so-slightly at your touch, although he manages to keep his excitement contained for the most part. “I really do want you to teach me.”

“I don’t know how helpful I’ll actually be, but…” he gestures down at his crotch, where his erection is starting to press through the front of his pants obscenely. The view is satisfying, knowing that you’re the one responsible for it- if you’d have known it would be this easy to get Eddie Munson in the mood, you probably would’ve tried your luck with him a long time ago. “I’d definitely be willing to give it a try.”

“Really?” you say hopefully, letting your fingers trail in the direction of his hard-on until you’re toying with the front button of his jeans. “You’re sure?”

His eyes shoot down to where your hand is, your thumb and forefinger playing idly with the metal zipper. He nods rapidly, allowing you to proceed in unfastening his pants, your hands shaking as you do. “Are you sure about this? I mean, damn, you really wanna get blowjob lessons from the freak of Hawkins high?” 

You don’t respond, rolling your eyes dismissively at his frantic line of questioning; nudging his bent legs so that he stretches them before him, you start pulling his pants and boxers down to pool around his hips. Eddie lifts himself up to assist you in the task, and in a matter of seconds his thick cock is on full display for you, flushed and thick and leaking. 

“Holy shit…” you murmur, in a daze; it’s the first dick you’ve ever seen this close-up, and it’s so more intimidating than you could’ve ever imagined. You wonder if all dicks are this massive, or if Eddie is just particularly well-endowed, as you extend your arm to feel along his length experimentally. 

“Was that a good holy shit, or a bad holy shit?” Eddie asks bashfully, nodding his head forward so that his long hair can obscure part of his face. 

“Eddie, your dick is huge,” is all you say to shut him up, and he’s unable to resist the cocky smirk that teases at the corners of his lips. 

He dips back against his bed so that his head is nearly flush with the mattress, pushing his hips out to elongate his body. He groans and stretches, his t-shirt hiking up around his midsection to reveal his soft belly, your gaze lingering there for far longer than it probably should. “Ah, c’mon. I’m not that big.”

The smugness is palpable within his protests, and you narrow your eyes as you position yourself on all fours next to him. “Just tell me what I should do first.”

“Well…” he looks at your face for awhile, before switching his attention to your cleavage, which is completely visible now that your baggy sweater is hanging off your body. Pretending not to notice, he says, “Usually you’d, um. Want to get it wet. Maybe stroke it a little with your hand before you put it in your mouth.” 

“Like this?” You shift your weight onto your knees so you can sit upright, holding your hand out in front of your mouth and spitting into it crudely. Eddie inhales sharply, closely examining your every motion as you draw your arm away from yourself, a string of spit connecting your palm and bitten lips. 

His cock is warm and silky to the touch as you wrap your fingers around it, and you take note of the way he hisses when you begin to move your hand up and down his generous length. “Y-yeah. Like that. That’s- fuck- good.” 

You quicken your pace, a triumphant feeling washing over you as his head lolls back towards the ceiling, his stomach clenching and releasing in direct response to your manipulations. “And then what?” 

Sinking down until your elbows are on the carpet and your back is arched up high, you bring your face closer to his cock, blinking up innocently in wait of his next set of instructions. 

Eddie clears his throat, obviously making an effort to come off as unfazed, although neither of you are strangers to the truth. “You can, uh, put it in your mouth now.” 

You’re perhaps a bit too hasty in your movements, because by the time Eddie’s cock is halfway in your mouth, he eases you back by your hair, stinging your scalp. 

Rather than pissing you off, however, the sensation travels straight from your head to your cunt, and you let out a strangled moan. 

“Shit- sorry,” Eddie says, his big hand stroking your skull where he’d tugged on it. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” 

You take him out of your mouth but remain close by, your spit-slick lips hovering mere centimeters away from the tip of his cock. “You didn’t. I, um, actually liked it.” 

He raises his eyebrows, seeming equal parts surprised and pleased by your declaration. “Oh yeah? Guess I’m helping you learn a little more than just giving head, huh?”

Flicking out your tongue, you administer tiny licks to his slit, lapping up all of the pre-cum that’s gathered there; Eddie really seems to like this, because he fists your hair in one hand, a string of profanities spilling out past his lips. “F-fuck. Yeah, atta girl. Gotta take it slow at the beginning.” 

Greedy for more of him, your tongue begins sweeping up the side of his dick, tracing lazily alongside the veins that travel throughout. When you’re certain you’ve covered every square inch of him with your hot tongue, you return once again to latch your mouth over the tip. 

“Damn. No fuckin’ way you haven’t done this before,” he manages to say through grit teeth, fisting a clump of your hair to give him better control over your actions. “Yeah, that’s a good girl. Nice and easy.” 

It’s undeniable what his praise and guidance does to you- your thighs are clamped together in a desperate attempt to create friction between them, hips rocking back and forth as you try in vain to rid yourself of the hungry feeling that’s taken you over. You bob your head down to usher a couple more inches of him into your gaping mouth, flattening your tongue against the side so as to fully embrace his salty taste. 

“Ahh, shit. Fuck yeah, (y/n). That’s so fuckin’ good,” he urges, applying some pressure to the back of your head so you can swallow another several inches of his length. “Little less teeth. ’S’it. Yeah, see how deep you can take it.”  

He gathers up your hair to keep it from getting in the way as you start to take him into your throat, your nose almost up against his pelvis as you choke and sputter around him. It’s difficult to breathe with your mouth this filled, but Eddie’s raspy words of encouragement serve in keeping you motivated.

“Keep going, sweetheart. Doing such a good fucking job for me,” he groans, his grasp on your hair loosening to that you can do as you please. With tears leaking from the corners of your eyes, you work to take in the entirety of his cock, gagging noisily when you feel it brush the back of your throat. “Your mouth is like fuckin’ heaven, babe.”  

Your lips curve upwards at the compliment, but you’re incapable of thanking him, your mouth overflowing with nothing but him; as an alternative, you focus on bringing Eddie to his orgasm, painfully curious to discover how he’ll look and feel during his moments of release. 

“Put your hand underneath. Yeah, right there,” he sighs approvingly as your fingers cup and massage his balls, bouncing them lightly in your palm as you continue to suck him. You’re on autopilot at this point, your rhythm impeccable and unrelenting; the noises of your wet mouth working at him are vulgar, your head plunging down on him again and again like you’ve been starved for a year. “Good fuckin’ girl. Yeah, you like choking on my big dick?”

You whimper at this, the vibrations from your throat transferring straight to his cock. Eddie’s grip on your hair tightens as he bucks his hips up underneath you, causing you to drool uncontrollably all over his thick length. 

“Mhm. Take it nice and deep for me,” he mutters lowly, his head tilting upwards so that you're only able to see his parted lips and sculpted jaw. “Gonna cum in your mouth now. Think you can handle that, babe?” 

You nod weakly, speeding up until his breathing becomes choppy and irregular. Your jaw is aching with exhaust, but you don’t dare stop- you’re too close to the finish line to start showing any slack now. 

“Fuck, (y/n)-“ he gasps, and then his cock twitches, a spray of hot liquid coating the inside of your mouth as his veined hand keeps you securely in place. You find yourself struggling against his tight grip as the bittersweet taste of his cum paints your tongue, but you steady yourself enough to swallow it all. 

Eddie takes in a shaky breath as he combs his fingers through your hair affectionately, giving you the opportunity to sit up and recover. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, (y/n). Now I really feel like I owe you something.” 

He shimmies his clothes back up so that he’s covered again, his tongue sticking out thoughtfully from the corner of his mouth. His face is flushed and rosy, forehead kissed with the soft glow of sweat, and for the second time today, all you want is to kiss him. 

“So… I did okay?” You wipe your slick face with the back of your sleeve, running the fingers of your opposite hand through your unkempt mess of hair. Sure, it’s pretty clear that he’d enjoyed himself, but there’s still a part of you that craves his verbal confirmation. 

“Are you kidding? That was some A-plus head in my book. You didn’t even really need me to help you,” Eddie smiles, casually looping his arm around your shoulders, the basic act of which fills your abdomen with butterflies. “But y’know what? I realized that I kinda like being a teacher.” 

You poise an eyebrow, a suggestive glint in your big doe eyes. You've got him. “Yeah? Why don't you show me what else you can teach me?”

[dovabunny]

When your heart goes 'Padam'

Soap hated unplanned leave and he hated this fucking club.

Price had walked into his room three nights ago to inform him that due to a security threat tip he was to be 'sent on a solo mission' so they can track who has their sights on him, while he is actually shipped home to lay low.

To make it worse, he swore someone has been following him all week, but everytime he tries to catch them, even in a subtle reflection - there's nothing.

So between his apparent paranoia, irritation of being sent home while they have all the fun, and being separated from Ghost - you can understand how the last thing he wants right now was to be in a fucking club. But his sister has the hots for the DJ and didn't want to come alone so she BEGGED him to tag along.

He caved cause he could never say no to her. He tried to stay at the bar but the constant swarm of sweaty bodies had him ducking out. He tried to keep to find a seat or table to lean on, but that apparently signaled that he was lonely and looking for company. When this one persistent bloke with terrible mullet and gold chain couldn't get the fuckin message that he wasn't interested - he figured his best bet was the dancefloor.

Maybe this was good for him. To just close his eyes and move to the rhythm of the music. He had always loved music since he was a boy, always found peace in it. Maybe it could even get his mind off the one thought that haunted him the most - Ghost.

He was so sure that the flirting and the looks might mean something more, that the way his heart thumped painfully in his chest when Ghost chuckled at his bad jokes might just be reciprocated. But then the lieutenant suddenly turned cold. Not just cold, icey. His gaze was cold and distant, he responded to Soap's usual attempts at banter with "focus on the mission, sergeant." And didn't that sting. He hadn't been "Johnny" in two weeks and it fuckin hurt. Had it all just been a bit of fun for Ghost? Had Soap just been a plaything, a distraction he grew tired of when he realized how much he could be? How needy?

Soap bit his lip, eyebrows drawn as he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to drown out his spiraling thoughts that had no right to hurt him as much as it does. He focuses on the beat of the music, the rhythm of the base he feels in his chest. Slowly he loses himself to it, not caring that he's dancing alone, not caring what he looks like - swallowed by the sea of pulsing bodies moving around him.

He feels the occasional hand on his hip, even grope of his ass or thigh, but smoothly slips away with a quick glare. Some men, some women, all looking disgruntled by the fact that Soap doesn't want to be groped by a stranger.

He was just getting lost to the music again when an arm slips around his waist in a way that just had him feeling repulsed. He whips around and it's mister mullet gold chain. His strong cheap cologne and smell of terrible beer like a fog and somehow it makes Soap feel dirty. He pointedly pushes his arm off and tries to slip away, but the clown grins like Soap is playing hard to get, gripping his hips to pull firmly to his crotch.

Soap has had enough, he elbows the man in the stomach and turns around to- but then suddenly it's like the man is yanked into the crowd. In a blink and a faint yelp smelly mcMullet has just vanished.

Soap feels uneasy. A man that persistent won't duck out that fast. He tries to put it out his mind. Moves to a different spot just in case, still in the sea of people dancing but closer to the fire escape.

He had just gotten himself convinced to close his eyes and clear his mind again when there's another touch...

But this one is different. It's light, a warm hand brushing against his arm, and he senses a heavy presence behind him. But they're not on him, not grinding on his leg or letting greedy hands roam over his sweaty t shirt. No they're... Asking. Cautious.

He can't explain why he leans into the touch. He had missed dancing with someone, hasn't done so in years, but it had to be someone he felt comfortable losing himself with.

At his subtle acknowledgments, another hand settles on his other arm, a warm breath falls over the back of his neck as those hands slowly move grip his biceps and move down along his arms.

A new song comes on, the new Kylie song. It's low, seductive, and rhythmic. Soap tilts his head to the side, a less than subtle sign that he accepts his mystery partner.

Strong hands wrap around his wrists and pulls him back against a huge, firm body. He feels the breath on his neck Ghost over his exposed skin, a soft brush of lips and he sighs. He pressed more firmly into the undulating body behind him, letting his back feel warm wide shoulders and a soft chest, he feels daring and rolls his hips, feeling the clear bulge in the man's jeans.

It should make him feel repulsed, dirty, too old for this. But why does it make him feel brave, naughty, wanted. He tilts his head and noses along a thick neck, the scent of bourbon, smoke, and something manly and dark has him shuddering.

Accepting Soap's daring advance, the man let's his big hands fall to his hips, monetarily returning Soap's tease with a roll of his own hips that has the smaller man give a broken moan at how hard and hungry the man feels. Those hands roam over his stomach, pressed flat against the thin sweat soaked shirt like they're mapping out his body. One hand travels up to settle just below his neck, the other wrapping possessively around his waist.

Soap is bodily anchored against the man, to the point that their movements are perfectly in sync. Soap grinds his hips and back against the huge, hard body and is reward with teeth scraping his neck.

"Yyy-ess", he chokes out. And then there's fingers on his chin tilting his head back just enough for warm lips to meet his.

Soap melts against the strong arms and chest keeping him up as they move in harmony to the beat. The kiss is gentle and dirty in equal measure and he gets lost in it.

They dance like that - or rather it would be more accurate to say they just moved like that, undulating and together to the music, pressed together to give and feel pleasure. Lips and tongues come together like they're choreographed, every lick, nip, and kiss matched like they've done it a thousand times and Soap has a hand in the man's hair holding him close.

He feels drunk on his stranger's scent and touch and taste, drowning in the best way. But then he feels it...

A sensation that hits him harder than any other he's felt all night.

Against his back, where the man's chest is pressed firmly to his skin, their t-shirts barely a barrier, he feels a clear thumping heartbeat.

It's too hard and too fast to be just from the music, but too steady to be from alcohol or drugs. No, it's sincere.

Soap let's their kiss end, just breathing each other in for a moment, before he turns and opens his eyes to gaze up at his stranger.

Lust lidded eyes stare down at him, a soft whiskey brown barely a ring around dark pupils blown wide, his steady gaze heavy with desire and possessiveness. Pale skin flickers in the pulsing lights of the club, revealing a blush bright and heavy over his strong nose and cheeks. Lips kiss swollen and split slick are parted as they pant in tandem. Short blonde hare stands messy where Soap had grabbed it, and tucked under his chin is a black face mask...

...it's the mask that sets it off. Suddenly Soap blinks himself into wakefulness and takes a closer look at his beautiful stranger.

The man seems to have gone through the same awakening, but instead of curiosity he seems to be taken by nervousness and panic.

Before Soap can even respond there's a mumbled apology and the man turns to flee.

[writer-komaru]

₊˚ପ⊹ Prey of the Snake Eyes (*❦ω❦)/‘˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

✧Rating: Smut + Slight NonCon

✧Characters: Thirteen

✧Word Count: 2.4k

✧Summary: Your decision to wear matching costumes with Mammon to the Devildom annual Halloween party was the last straw for a certain snake-eyed reaper. One moment you’re playing classic carnival games and winning prizes, the next you’re pulled into a secluded spot in the eerie haired house and shown who you really belong to. Try to keep quiet all you want, she’s not stopping till you’re sobbing loud enough to rattle the walls of the celestial realm.

“This was such a cute idea! But how in the world did you get Levi to help make these for us?” You asked Mammon while happily twirling around in front of the mirror.

“My amazing persuasive skills and a little bit of bribery never hurt anyone,” Mammon chuckled to himself as he rested his arm on your shoulder and joined you in front of the mirror.

“You didn’t hear it from me but you look smokin’ hot as Yoimiya,” he playfully nudges you with his elbow, “Everyone’s gunna be so jealous.”

“Yeah, so very jealous that I'm going with The Arataki Itto, that’s what,” you nudge him back and put your hands on your hips.

“Haha, now that’s a given,” he smirks and combs his fingers through his hair. After a quick laugh at his antics you both rush out of the door to make it to the location on time. This wasn’t your first time going to Devildom’s annual Halloween party, but it was the first time you were not only going with someone but dressing up with them too. Usually you and the rest of the demon brothers go as a group, but this year RAD decided it was a great idea to give out a heavily weighted quiz the day after the party so everyone’s held up in their rooms studying. The only reason you and Mammon are going is because he never really cared about his studies and says ‘he could do it with his eyes closed’ and you completed your studies early. You were honestly very happy you didn’t have to go alone because parties are always more fun with friends. But there's just one thing you feel like you’re forgetting…

“Are you sure we brought everything?” You remarked, looking through your purse as you walked.

“What would we need to bring to a Halloween party besides ourselves?” He laughed it off, taking your hand in his and giving it a squeeze.

“Well I don’t know, maybe things like money, keys to the house, our phones, our tickets-“

“Yeah yeah yeah I get it, I’d be lost without you, what else are ya tryin’ to prove, huh?” He snickered and squeezed your hand again.

“I’m glad you realize it,” you laugh with him and eventually reach the entrance to the event. It’s decorated with vines, fake bats, and cutouts of ghosts and other monsters. It looks a little more cute than scary, though. But the interior is a lot more appealing as you two enter. There’s tons of mini games, other demons in costumes, a corn maze, a haunted house, and even a fountain filled with smoking purple water. This might have just been your imagination but you could have sworn Mammon’s eyes sparkled like bright fireworks at the idea of getting to experience all these attractions with you.

“They fuckin’ got apple bobbin’ too! Come on, we gotta go see!” He excitedly pulled your arm, causing you to yelp as he dragged you towards the buckets of apples. That was until both of you suddenly stopped.

“Huh? What gives?!” Mammon narrows his eyes, ready to square with any insignificant demon pleb that dared to interrupt his private time with you. Instead, he realized he was face to face with a bubbly, smiling face and a pair of sharp, snake-like eyes.

“Why hello again Sheepy and… company?” Thirteen waved to you and gave a curious look to Mammon, “Ohhh, you’re that funny guy who tried using a fishing rod while on the roof to snatch things out of people’s bags! Hahaha, that had me in tears!”

His face lit up in an embarrassed and angry blush, “It was one fucking ti- I mean, HOW DID YOU KNOW ABOUT THAT?!”

“Wait mammon you actually tried something like that…?” You raised your eyebrow. You knew he would do anything for some quick Grimm but that seems way too cartoony, even for him.

Thirteen continued giggling, playfully slapping him on the back, “Could have used a better escape plan though! Falling off the roof and into the bushes wasn't the best idea.”

“J-just shut up, would ya?! It’s none of your business!!” He snapped back, pulling you closer to him by the arm.

“Alright fine, I’ve had my fun. And I don’t just come here to embarrass you or something, I came here for the little sheepy over here!~” She flashed you a smirk, causing Mammon’s blood to boil. She caught a glimpse at the hand tucked behind his back and the glimmering gold chains swirling around his fingertips and looked away from you, “But it seems you’re a little occupied at the moment, what a bummer. Guess I’ll just have to wait my turn, Cya around, sheepy!” As she bounded away, she drifted a teasing nail across your chest.

“That reaper girl… ugh, whatever, let’s just ignore her,” Mammon huffed as he motioned you back towards the apple buckets.

Throughout the whole night you couldn’t stop thinking about her, over and over, especially how she touched your chest. Was she trying to hint at something?

“Hey, earth to MC, pay attention! It’s no fun winnin’ if you’re just gonna count every star in the sky all night!” Mammon snapped his fingers in front of your face.

“Huh? What? Oh, sorry my bad. It’s uh, just a beautiful night tonight, I got distracted,” you laughed it off, picking your water gun back up and aiming it right at the target ahead of you.

“Yeah yeah, whatever you say, sore loser- Hey, quit that, you might actually beat me!” He exclaims, trying to fire twice as fast. After a very close match, you managed to come out on top by only a few points, being rewarded with a cute plushie bat with devil horns.

“Ughhh no fair, I shouldn’t have snapped your attention back and taken the free win instead,” he groaned to himself as you two walked away from the booth, hanging his head low dramatically.

“Look who’s the sore loser now?” You smirked, jabbing him in the shoulder.

“Shut it, I’m not a sore loser! Uh- there! See that game over there? First one to get a prize is the real winner! I’m totally going to wipe that shit eating grin off your face!” He points at the high striker game in the distance and sprints over to it. Excited by the challenge, you begin to follow him, only to feel a familiar pair of hands grace your shoulders.

“Huh? What the-!” You gasp as you're suddenly yanked into the haunted house, a mischievous giggle leading the way to a dark, secluded hallway.

“Was the little sheepy surprised?” A pair of bright green snake-like eyes illuminated the darkness. It was… thirteen?

“Huh? Thirteen? What’s this about? Mammon and I were-“ She presses her pointer finger against your lips.

“Shhhhh~ just forget all about that greedy crow. I’m way more fun than he or anyone in all of Devildom, I thought you knew that by now~” she smirks and once again traces a nail down the middle of your chest. You gulp nervously as the thoughts of your… previous encounters imprint themselves back into your mind.

“B-but we… I’m…” Your heart rate and breathing accelerate more and more as the mischievous reaper leans over you, caging you against the wall.

“Don’t be scared, little sheepy. I'm just here to talk, that’s it!~ Then I’ll let ya go, sounds good?” Her sweet voice becomes a low whisper right against your ear, causing a shiver to run straight down your spine. She smirks at your reaction but doesn’t mention it.

“Whenever I see you nowadays, you’re always hanging around those demon brothers. What’s the deal, huh? I know you’re roommates or whatever but come on, don’t tell me you’d rather get pulled around like their dog on a leash than have some fun with little old me,” she pouts playfully, nudging her thigh between your legs, “And don’t think I can’t see the way they look at you. I can tell they want you, they want you more than just roommates or even friends for that matter. It’s almost amusing. Because no matter how much they want you,” she smirks once more and rubs her thigh against your twitching heat, making you release a whine, “You’re aaaaaall mine~”

“T-thirteen, w-we are in public someone will-“ Your heart skips a beat as she chuckles devilishly, an evil smile stretching across her face.

“Someone will see? Is that it? And so what? Just means more demons will finally realize who you belong too. And I’d guess you like that too, huh?” Her eyes narrow as she grabs your hips and slides them harder against his plush thigh. It’s almost humiliating how good she’s making you feel. You bite your lip, turning away from her, doing your best to hold on to your last shreds of dignity in the face of this flirtatious reaper. But you should have already known fighting back against her is pointless.

“Trying to hold back? Think your cute little body can resist? How silly~ You may be a very special and important human but you’re still just a human with normal human weaknesses~” She laughs at your feeble attempts and doubles down, rubbing your poor, twitching sex harder against her thigh and leaning down to litter rushed hickeys down your neck. If you shunted just a bit it wouldn’t take much to confuse her for a succubus.

“Come on little sheepy, just give in so I can show you a better time than that Mammon guy~” She rolled her eyes at the mere mention of his name, “Playing fun carnival games, wearing matching costume, holding hands, Ughh it’s just insufferable… but I’m getting off topic, I can already tell your body has given up~”

You look down at your hips and watch helplessly as you hump against her leg, small pants and gasps leaving your mouth. She was right.

“What will it be? Want me to continue this or do you wanna peace right back over to the demon that isn’t even looking for you? Who will you choose, the pesky little demon boys or your gorgeous and powerful reaper of souls?~” she waited expectedly for your response, her fingertips snaking under your outfit and teasing the edge of your shorts.

You knew leaving Mammon wasn't a very good idea. If he found you like this it might ignite a second war. But the longer she had you pinned against the wall, grinding your aroused sex in just the right ways to make you lose your mind.

“Agh…damn it… I g-give up…” you finally relented, causing an excited giggle to leave her glossy lips.

“Good little sheepy, I knew you’d tap out eventually. You’ve never been able to resist me and you ever will~” she smirks happily before pulling your shorts down to your knees, making you hiss as the cold, musky air of the creepy hallway greets your dripping, clenching pussy.

“Oh my, look at how damn wet you are from just my thigh, it’s so adorable~” she whispers as she traces small patterns over your pulsing clit, sliding down to your fluttering cunt. Her strokes from your twitching hole to your sensitive clit sends your body into a frenzy, shivering and whimpering like a virgin.

“It feels good doesn’t it? I bet those ignorant demon boys could only dream of touching you like this. Hehehe almost makes me wanna snap a pretty picture of your sweet little pussy taking my fingers and slip a copy under each of their doors, just so they know what they're missing~” Her threats fall on deaf ears as she carefully punges two fingers into your cunt, making sure her thumb doesn’t stop massaging your clit. Your hips buck up into her fingers as they prod against your g spot, almost immediately making your head tilt back to release a surprised moan.

“T-thirteeeeennnnghhh, shit, this feels so good…” You whine and arch your back.

“Oh, I can tell~ I’m only using two fingers but you’re acting like I’m splitting you open. Are you close? Ready to cum already?~” she snickered and gave your g spot a firm rub before thrusting her fingers even faster.

“Mmm, fuck, gunna cum, I need to cu-“ Your half lidded eyes flew open as the sounds of echoed footsteps rung out from some here in the haunted house, “S-someone’s her- AGh?!~”

You looked down in fear as three skilled fingers pounded into your pussy and Thirteen’s lips wrapped around your throbbing bud. You knew damn well she could hear those footsteps just as well as you did. Such a troublemaker, through and through. Your orgasm was quickly approaching as the warmth built up more and more in your abdomen, showing no signs of stopping.

“MC?! Damn it, where are you?! Answer me!” Mammon’s worried voice grew closer and closer, footsteps rushing down the opposing hall. All it would take is one turn at the corner and one more thrust against your sweet spot and he would get to witness the sight of his crush cumming all over someone else’s fingers. The image of that lewd scene was both terrifying and hot at the same time, making your stimulated cunt squeeze even tighter.

“Oh?~ Don’t tell me… does the little pure sheepy like the thought of being found with their pussy being fucked? Hehehe, I’ll take your twitches as a yes,” An almost sadistic expression spread across her face from in between your legs. If that look means what you think it means, you were really in for it. A stream of moans rip from your throat as she sucked harshly on your clit, finger fucking you so hard your pussy’s squelching could probably be heard from all the way at the fucking entrance of the haunted house.

“Aaagghh, s-slow do- f-faster… fuckkk, slow D-DOWNNNGHH!~~’” Your body shook pathetically as the dreaded footsteps picked up speed.

“Yeah, keep crying out like a good little sheepy. You’re mine, and no one else’s. Now cum, cum all over my tongue and show Mammon how much better I make you feel~”

The boiling heat in your pussy was far too impossible to hold back any longer, exploding into a spasm of muscles and loud moans as your hot slick spilled into Thirteen’s eager mouth. The horrified look of betrayal on Mammon’s face you caught the glimpse of before your dazed eyes blinked closed is one that will stay permanently engraved in your mind the next time you try to go out with another demon.

Reblog + Comment + Like if you’d like to see more obey me or Thirteen in specific writing!

(I took a small break cuz of burn out and I’m ready to keep on writing! Sorry this is a bit short, I had more of a smaller idea going in than I did the other ones. Expect more writing soon <3)

[dairy-farmer]

Okay but re-reading the Ra's part of the Timeloop ask I sent? And the part you wrote? Oh... On No(tm) this man's out here dead set on being a BAD Idea Boyfriend.

Gonna seduce Timothy with his cock. KNOWS he has absolutely no chance of convincing him to Join Him with the usual flowers, dancing, and casual dating approaches for romance... soooo.... Wanna See Him Naked, Detective? *evil sexy eyebrow quirk* *is shirtless and on a throne Just Cause doing his best Slutty wide legged gonna conquer everything sit*

Like? Come on~ make a TERRIBLE life choice. Give him ONE(1!) Chance to rock your world so hard it ruins you forever. He has a multi-step plan. He just needs to pump your guts so good you permanently associate the concept of pleasure with HIM. THEN? You'll feel compelled to return..

It's always "just one more time", isn't it? Detective. Always "this is the LAST time". Stubborn, proud men like Timothy are so WEAK to pleasure, aren't they~? Pain they can handle. But pleasure? That addicts them.

He just needs an opening. Just ONE misstep. A low moment. Some time when Timothy's hunger for warmth outways his rightful caution of Ra's. And? All things are inevitable, if you are patient enough. Especially if you tilt the odds by hand.

Maybe he shows off the goods. Is shirtless more often then he has been in years. Low cut poet shirts and impressive capes. Tight, tight pants. Oh isn't it DISTRACTING, Detective? You aren't having THOUGHTS you won't admit too, aaaare you? Eyes CERTAINLY aren't lingering a bit too long~

Ra's has done this before and he'll do it again. CENTURIES is a word people keep using but honestly, they DO so fail to grasp what that MEANS. He has seduced THOUSANDS. And he's not even that hedonistic. He could have had far more.

He's faced off against genuine Femme Fatales. Homme Fatales. Battles of seduction and wit, daggers and poisons. Death in the night. Beautiful silks stained forever with the blood of their masters. He has nearly died more then once and come out stronger for it.

And? Like when the Bat was lost in time. Eventually his Detective WILL have to be in relatively close quarters with him again. Just close ENOUGH. The last time, he thought him cisgendered. Didn't realize his OPTIONS. Now? Now Ra's wants an HEIR out of him. Preferably a legion. They would be glorious.

But to GET that... first he needs to SEDUCE the Detective. Can't put offspring in a womb you haven't fucked. He ramps up his petty bullshit. TARGETED petty bullshit that will require Tim, specifically, too fix. He sword fights shirtless. Makes sure to subtly oil up a bit first. One MUST take care of their skin of course. It has NOTHING to do with the fact it will both perfume the air AND catch the light, drawing Timothy's attention to his muscles as they fight. Of course not.

Perish the THOUGHT, Detective~

And it eventually works. Because of course it does. Tim is stressed. Horny. Stressed AND horny. His life has gone to shit AGAIN. Everyone is fighting AGAIN. Everything hurts mentally, emotionally, and physically. And fuckin' Ra's is there... once AGAIN swanning around topless. All rippling abs and deep rumbling purr. Threats and word play. Posturing.

Telling him he'll GLADLY deactivate the bombs if Tim spends the night with him. Not even in his bed. Just... just in his company. Bastard being all assured and decadent and offering him food. And... and... Tim is so fucking tired. The thought of fighting of ninjas and swinging all over the place tonight sounds god awful.

His body hurts. HE hurts. He's hungry. Sore. Ra's is vaguely behaving. This room is warm and those seats look soft. That food looks good. Tim decides... "You know what? Fuck it. Why not." There are a LOT of reasons why not. Starting with "This is EXACTLY what Ra's wants" but? Tim is past caring.

He says sure. Ra's isn't even gloat-y about it. Just casually calls off the bombs. Tim should probably be pissed about that but... mmmm, food. He collapses into a chair instead. It's absurdly comfortable. The night is surreal. He gets fed. They talk about furniture as Tim tries to pry the chair makers name out of Ra's to no avail. Ra's gives him an honest to gods feet and hand massage.

It's... it's nice? Really nice. Relaxing even. Tim is suspicious. Not so much he DOESN'T take the deal again... but you know... suspicious.

And Ra's keeps feeding him. There's pleasant conversation about interesting things. Massaging of sore muscles. Hands that drift higher and higher. Lower and lower. Casually. And Tim is... is so WARM. Full belly, comfortably cradled by the various seats, muscles massaged loose.

Then he makes the mistake of getting SO used to this... he just starts showing up. Not changing into his RR suit first. Ra's is patient, but crows with victory in his mind. He waits until Tim is wearing a lovely suit. No particular day but not too soon into the change in behavior. Can't spook him, after all.

His fingers are lighter then any pickpocket's unbuckling the belt. The Detective of course still notices. Becomes more alert. Attention focusing. Ra's uses a move he's done countless times before. He cradles the Detective's head with one hand and plunders his mouth, even as his other slides like a thief down somewhere it should not be, to pay immediate and overwhelming attention to the heat below.

Tim jolts so hard it's nearly a thrash. But Ra's has caught has caught him off gaurd and does NOT intend to let him get his wits about him. He teases Tim breathless, confused and horny. Then his pants are GONE. Ra's is sliding with a dangerous grace to his knees between those powerful legs and hiking them up over his shoulders, spread wide.

Tim has just enough time to be confused before everything lights up, as an impossibly skilled mouth descends onto him. He'll never live down the sounds he makes. How quickly, EASILY, Ra's is able to drive him incoherent. Even before thick, calloused fingers slide in deep. Torment his best spots with ruthless accuracy.

Then Ra's is looming over him. Looking so damn PLEASED with himself. Tim should be furious. But all he can do is gasp for air and hold on as he's split APART. Big. So big. Ra's is whispering something filthy in a long dead language, watching his body take it with so much HUNGER on his face. Has anyone EVER wanted Tim this bad? He feels impaled.

The he's being taken APART. Hips the roll and grind, snap forward and pull slow. The rhythm keeps changing. Drawing out the pleasure but not letting it build enough to get Tim off. He thinks he starts crying. Can't seem to stop. Begs Ra's to just... to j-just let him get off. Please. PLEASE. Everything is so hot. Squelching and gushing and... and...

Ra's practically glows. Backlight by the ceiling lamps. Oil and sweat catching the light, coating his body. Unbearably focused on TIM. Looking and seeing and No Where To Hide. Exposed and conquered. Everything feeling so good. Tim's brain feels likes its short circuiting. He comes apart beneath Ra's. Then is made too again. And again. And again.

There's even a soft bed and fantastic breakfast in the morning. Tim refuses to fall for this.

He of course, falls for it. It's the best sex he's ever had. He's furious. Ra's is unrepentant and openly admits to his plans. Consent IS important, after all. Tim blows up several of his bases and then three days later? Him.

It takes all of five years of routinely threatening Gotham and then fucking the Detective incoherent for it to take. The Bat's eldest sends his lover after him. Wilson is a formidable opponent but sadly, they are unable to finish their duel. As the Detective has come to kill him, himself. The usual response. His lovers are rarely the sort to appreciate being made pregnant. They tend to demand satisfaction and his head on a spine.

As equally usual, he is able to convince the Detective of why he is more useful alive. He has a very persuasive tounge. The Kryptonians sent after him though? Those are a bother. Apparently his grandson sends his regards. Well played.

tim gives into Ra's once and it absolutely messes with his ability to remain impartial and fight ra's because he's just remembering how good ra's made him feel 😩😩😩😩. tim is just human afterall and its not like dick or bruce had any leg to stand on about tim sleeping with the enemy given their own histories.

tim is furious with ra's for being good at sex and making it so he often gets all weak-kneed around him now and he HATES his pussy for getting so attatched to ra's and just automatically getting wet at the sight or sound of him.

it's so obvious what ra's wants when fucking him (aside from just fucking tim) and tim falls for it every single time thinking nothing will happen. but then 5 years after he's started sleeping with ra's, tim messes up with his birthcontrol somehow or maybe all those creampies finally caought up with him because birth control is only SO effective- and tim is pregnant. he's several weeks along and if it had been five years earlier tim would've dealt with it without a shred of remorse.

but...now tim is older and more sentimental and...he's been thinking of leaving the caped business behind for awhile....and being the mother to ra's al ghul's child means tim's baby will have built-in round-the-clock monitoring and babysitting courtesy of the various shadows ra's sends his way to watch over his newest heir. well...if he lives long enough considering the look on his friends and family's faces when he told them he was pregnant and retiring.

[ceoandslutler]

have you heard kuro dubbed in any language other than english? or in any other asian language other than korean or chinese? well i found a persian one and it's so fucking bad that it's hilarious.

(also stay tuned to find out why the persian dub of kuroshitsuji being so bad has directly to do with anti-shipping sentiment and puritanism)

i would like to politely invite anyone who's ethnically from/lives in/speaks the language of a country with an ultraconservative government to contribute to this post if they know a dub of kuro (fandub or licenced by a company) in their language to contribute to this post (agree or disagree that policing media causes a drop in its quality and accessibility in other countries) but let's keep it civil. if you are not from a country like this but have something to say, feel free to add anything on, the conversation is open to all :)

so i just heard the homemade persian dub of kuro's first ep made by some young people who sound like they're in uni (probs 18-23 yr olds), tears have been flowing from my eyes for the past 20 mins

(link under the cut)

to save time, go watch the bits i linked below or just laugh at the whole thing (full link) but don't blame these kids for being awful at this or just skip to the end of the post. as i said, there is a reason this dub is so bad and no official dub exists and it has to do with... anti subculture?!?*

but first, the funny stuff

ciel's voice is awful but just listen to the goofy dub laugh seb's va did at the start I'M FUCKING SOBBING (00:15-00:35), and also not ciel's va MOANING after the op song (2:35) ??? i REPEAT the woman who VA'd ciel was fucking MOANING, the YAWN was the worst part, dub team shotacons???

also SHEEL FANTOMHAYO?? THE KID'S NAME WAS DUBBED AS SHEEL FANTOMHAYO. (refer to 6:30 in the video linked)

now this isn't because we lack a 's' in our language (my alias is literally a persian name meaning shadow aka ✦sayé✦), we've just transliterated it as shiyel, but SHEEL???

the other guy calls him fantomhayo too (8:25) and the fantomhayo condition strikes again with sebastian's va talking about the fantomhayo hospitality at 12:40 ish in the video.

this is particularly bizarre because we do have a V in persian, please guys, use it!

please note: i have nothing but good things to say about finny's va... the way the va says "sebaastiyaan!" (12:43) is so cute <3

at 13:00, we get this golden crumb "meyrin... oh meyrin" from this college aged dude doing sebastian (who is SO lost) then he proceeded to say in persian "i beg you, ON MY LIFE, just pour the fucking wine in the glass and walk away" save me from the bad dub, ono daisuke, save me...

the furnace scene is just gold (18:50 onward is comical, the scream at the end... priceless), these people deserve an award, im tempted to do subs on this whole video because the translation is so wrong yet absolutely too hilarious to leave untranslated. also, i like how you can hear other people talking in the background constantly, they didn't even bother finding a quiet room 😭😭

finally i translated some of the best comments under the vid (everyone fuckin hated it 😭)

..tldr: irani/persian speaking netizens are brutal. but also, it shows that persian speakers are used to quality dubbing, otherwise this wouldn't be so offensive. if we were used to badly done dubs, the comments wouldn't look like this. many famous kdramas and jdramas and indian/turkish films have been dubbed. animated movies e.g. disney films and most commonly 70-80s anime have huge followings in iran and were dubbed extraordinarily well. in fact, in iran, many of our own films are dubbed especially if the original footage did not capture the audio well enough/the director was unhappy with the actor's delivery and it's usually hard to tell if this has happened because it's done very well. shockingly, dub is more popular than sub. so why does kuro not have an official dub? why is the fandub so bad???

PLEASE READ THE FOLLOWING

*IMPORTANT: an anime like this is not allowed to be legally dubbed by studios in iran because iran is under an islamic theocracy (the islamic republic) and all media that promotes devil worshipping and blasphemy is banned, homosexuality is too (anyone can tell kuro has homoerotic undertones, the homophobic heads of media would never let this queer gothic romance through). oh and trans people are "allowed" on TV but only if they're not vulgar/explicit (not even then, half the time) & grelle would not make it into the anime AT ALL. even if we ignore all the devil worshipping and queerness, sex is banned too (as well as lewd appearances of women), so season 1/2 & boc would never make it. oh and alcohol, bom would never make it. oh and also, women's empowerment is banned too so boa would never make it. when will it end? will someday everything be banned? sure looks like it. but isn't this what anti shippers want? i mean kuro IS problematic media, it never condemns people for having sex or partaking in drinks, not even murder is condemned.

moving on, the subtitled version of the episodes are very well done for what they are but it's still not good, you won't understand what's going on properly. meanings are lost. a dub is much more accessible to those who can't read subs and generally a necessary option. people NEED dubs. don't get me wrong, the iranian fansub team are dedicated however subs are much easier for fans to do than dubbing. as you heard, kuro's persian fandub was frankly terrible. these kids didn't even know how to pronounce ciel's name and it's NOT because of the language barrier, my theory is that because the internet access is so limited, they had to figure out how to pronounce ciel's name purely from the japanese original or another lang dub and had no access to the eng dub. as you can see, they are not able to follow the mouth movements either (don't have editing software); i assume the internet restrictions targeted streaming platforms w the dub on it (because the government wants to CONTROL what media people consume) so they had to figure everything out from japanese or another language, (they probably used another fandub to translate since the ed seems to credit the eng vas while they can never be heard in the bg) which is not easy. unfortunately english is taught in schools around the world not japanese so the dubbers' translation was quite honestly terrible- after all, they had no official script to base their translation off. BUT if a professional dubbing studio (e.g. iran's glory entertainment) got their hands on kuro, it'd probably be dubbed very well. if mehrdad raissi, CEO of glory, was on for seb's role, it would be glorious (pun intended). if he did flynn rider well, he can do sebs well too. but that studio often has their shows played on state televisions and the last thing they want is to get blacklisted and arrested for dubbing the gay demon butler anime. please do not take this fandub as representing all persian-language dubs. and remember, kuro itself is banned for being problematic media in counties like iran... no sebaciel needed (although anyone can definitely see the gay undertones to the story from a cover alone).

if you want to ban people from shipping things or making fan works that are problematic... soon you'll have to get rid of problematic media in general. and already, antis sound like the media people in charge under a dictatorship. "violence is okay, murder is okay but s-sex?!? women in scandalous clothing!!! oh good heavens..!" this is the kind of mindset which leads people down the rabbit hole of "this is problematic!! let's ban it!!!" until there's nothing left, a slippery slope. imagine this was the english dub of kuro. imagine it was banned in western countries and a team of young'uns had to gang up and make their own dub using only the japanese raws. imagine problematic media like kuro wasn't picked up the west because it's "shota" and that's bad. we'd be stuck looking at the same sanitised stuff and if we wanted to watch kuro, our options would be trash dubs (no offense) like this one. pretty scary to think this could be the state of the english dub if puritanism was as bad here as it is in countries like iran. policing media and deciding what creators should or shouldn't create will take you to the side of theocratic dictatorships and you will fall into alt right puritan lunacy, fanpoll are about as woke as a dictatorship, remember that.

don't sound like this:

NEVER sound like this.

it is clear that conditional freedom is no freedom at all. there should be zero criteria to the media we want to create, no religion or purity culture to it. just be media literate. let nobody control what you want to create or consume! (or you'll end up in a world where the media that is deemed "problematic" is maintained but only through underground circles, losing quality and accessibility day by day, until these channels are shut down too and only a sanitised husk of options for media consumption remain)

[lupeloto]

"i can live without you, i just don't want to" one-shot

so i made a post here about one of my fav tropey prompts:

"I can live without you, I just don't want to." so i wrote a mickey and ian post reunion in 9x06 drabble about it! (it includes artist!mickey because he is everything to me)

Ian’s hand lingers on Mickey’s cheek, his gaze fixated on studying the sight before him; Mickey. He finds it nearly impossible to wrap his head around. Mickey was right there, laying under him, a soft closed-mouth smile spread across his face, piercing blue eyes staring back at him, the light dusting of freckles that covered his face. The ones Ian missed so goddamn much. Mickey lets his stare linger for a while, giving him time to process before bringing his hand to cup the back of Ian’s neck, guiding their lips together. 

They lay on the bottom bunk together, shortly before lights out, Mickey sitting between Ian’s legs with his back leaning against Ian’s chest, doodling on a piece of paper. Neither has spoken much in the past half hour, not too interested in talking, more so just basking in each other’s company. That silence had always been one Ian enjoyed. It was always a comfortable silence when he was with Mickey, a warm one that blanketed the room rather than making it tense. Fuck, he missed him. With that, Ian leans down, pressing his nose deep into the tuft of messy black hair on Mickey’s head and inhaling deeply. He wasn’t subtle about it either, a loud, breathy noise accompanying it, one that caused Mickey to chuckle lightly.

“What the fuck you sniffin’ me for, ya weirdo?” Mickey questioned, turning his head slightly to look back at Ian.

“Just missed you…your smell,” Ian says, realizing it came out slightly creepy after catching a glimpse of Mickey’s raised eyebrows, “Okay I went so long without this, just let me have this.” He jokes, pressing a quick peck to the top of Mickey’s head as he turns back around, getting situated between Ian’s legs.

“Okay, creep. Fuckin’ sniff away I guess,” Mickey returns to his drawing.

“Just couldn’t live without me, huh?” Mickey asks, a smug grin plastered on his face, pretending to be focused on his sketching

Ian sighs dramatically, “Yeah that’s it,” he jokes, rolling his eyes, lifting his head up slightly to steal a glance at Mickey’s drawing. 

He yanks it close to his chest in response, “No peeking, asshole,” Mickey scoffs. 

Ian rolls his eyes and leans his head back against the wall, his smile quickly fading, “That’s what fucking sucks the most,” he says, eyes fixated on the blank wall before them.

Mickey turns his head slightly, not completely facing Ian, rather a gesture to say What the fuck are you talking about?

“I could live without you, I had to live without you,” Ian references Mickey’s earlier comment, “But fuck, I don’t ever want to. Not ever again.” Ian’s gaze doesn’t break from the wall until he feels Mickey’s hand grip his thigh.

Mickey has almost completely turned around to face Ian, situated between his legs with his own crossed. His hand comes up to cradle Ian’s cheek with such a delicacy that he barely feels his skin, just the dusting of stubble that covered his cheeks and jaw. Ian’s eyes have shifted down, staring at his lap.

“Hey,” Mickey caresses his cheek with his thumb as Ian’s eyes finally meet his, “You won’t have to again. Okay? Promise…you fucking soft bitch.”

His stare lingers for a while on Ian’s eyes, he missed the feeling of getting lost in those soft green eyes. The ones that have pulled him out of so much shit, the ones that can instantly ground him with just one look. He brings their lips together aggressively, their mouth smashing into one another.  Once they pull away, Ian manages to catch a glimpse of Mickey’s drawing, immediately softening at the sight. An incomplete outline of Ian’s side profile filled the page. Some areas were clearer than others, but Ian noticed Mickey had started on his freckles, sending a wave of warmth through his body.

Mickey notices what Ian was looking at, turning to him with a smug smile.

“And I’m the ‘soft fucking bitch’, huh?” Ian teases.

“Fuck off,” Mickey’s eyes roll to the back of his head, preparing to spit another sarcastic comment before Ian yanks him back in for another starved kiss.

[sasster]

And Then?

im still SICK so if you see any typos, no you didn’t tw: blood Uhm, yeah, here’s the next part of the other drabble! If you’re lost, you should probably read that one first. [doc] —

This must be what divine intervention feels like, was the first thought that passed through Aelium’s mind when he woke up, not on the floor, but in a bed softer than anything he’d ever laid on.

For a time that felt like eternity he was surrounded by vast nothingness that even swirled through him at times, if he made a sound in that nothingness it did not reach his ears, nor did his lips move. Eternity was not enough time for him to catch his bearings, because before he knew it he was awake, in this bed, with a blanket thrown over his head.

Didn’t he die?

There were two voices murmuring with each other somewhere else in the room, but he refused to pull the covers up from his head to find what fresh hell Persep’d sent him to. He died, didn’t he?

“The fuckin’ puppet broke my phone, and I think he did something to my other connections, I can’t really call anyone that can deal with this.” Was the first voice, it was one he’d never heard before, but it sounded more annoyed than anything about the situation.

“I don’t even think I know anyone that has half an idea how to deal with something like this.” Came the response, a voice crowned by the grogginess of someone that deserved to be brumating peacefully, not being bled for however many days and nights that he was. Areios sighs. “Zeke, none of it makes any sense. Can’t we just burn the body?”

“If you say he died before and came back, I don’t think we should try to leave it to a simple burning.”

Areios groaned.

Poor thing. They must be talking about Persep, though Aelium couldn’t fathom why Persep would be the one that died. He was very clearly not the one that was stabbed in the heart.

At that thought, he reached up to touch his chest and found only the memory of having been stabbed; A fresh scar. The movement caused his hand to throb something awful, and he was reminded also that he’d broken thumb. His thumb was still broken, but the wound over his chest was closed up.

That didn’t make sense either. He did not enjoy playing in Persep’s world.

“Looks like your friend is up.”

The movement must have gotten the attention of the owner of the unknown voice and what came next was the sound of Areios lumbering over to his side, before he knew it he was wrapped up in his arms.

“Aelium, are you okay?”

He only nodded into his chest as the blanket was removed from his head. Then he caught a glimpse of the blue haired human that stood over his twin, now bound where Areios was.

“This one is breathing, too.” He said without turning to see the reunion of the two purple bloods. “Let me figure out what to do here.”

“I can call our ancestor.” Aelium whispered with an impossibly small voice, unsure.

Zeke laughed.

“Great, more Lycaons. It’s not like we have much of a choice here. Call ‘em up.”

—

By the time Thanat arrived, Persep was definitely awake. The unperturbed human had the foresight of blindfolding him before he woke up, “So he’s not tempted to do anything funny,” Zeke’d said as he did it.

Bound and blindfolded like that, Aelium found that he was much less intimidating. He didn’t seem fit for a conversation though, so silence was what he, Areios, and Persep sat in when Zeke walked into the room with their elder.

Thanat wasted no time crossing into the room and stopping directly in front of his blindfolded descendant, the scowl he sported was mostly obscured by his hair, but Aelium’d spent enough time with the pair of them to know it was there.

“Hey there, Embalmer. You’re late.”

“You must have forgotten to send out my invitation.”

“I figured you’ve been busy enjoying the company of The Evocator. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Even Aelium knew this was a sore subject, but what he could not anticipate was what came next. A growl ripped out of Thanat’s throat, and he snatched Persep up to his feet by the hair. The usual serenity their ancestor carried with him was swept out of the room as the growl increased in intensity.

Persep has a way of bringing out the worst in the other Lycaons, it seems.

“So,” Zeke interjected, leaning around the growling reaper to get his attention, as though this was all nothing more than a minor inconvenience. “Areios said that he stabbed Aelium in the chest and then fainted. That’s weird, right?”

The growling stopped almost immediately. “Is that so?”

There was no answer, and in the sudden silence, Thanat leaned over to grab the previously discarded knife from the floor.

“Is that so?” He repeated when he didn’t get the answer that he was looking for, then he shook Persep by the hair to indicate from whom he’d expected the answer. Persep only tried, fruitlessly, to pull himself free instead of answering. “Very well.”

In one clear stroke, the knife that ended Aelium’s life once again found itself spilling Lycaon blood. A darkness draped itself over the Embalmer and from the angle Aelium and Areios watched him slit Persep’s throat, it was hard not to see the resemblance the two held. Dark eyes, and a smug sense of satisfaction crossed his features.

Aelium and Areios watched in stunned silence, but Zeke laughed, a little hysterical.

“Fuck, I mean, you’re kidding right? Aren’t there rules to this shit?”

Perseps head lulled, only held firm by the hold Thanat had on it, and for all intents and purposes, he seemed to be well and truly dead. A second later he gasped for air and seemingly regained his faculties.

Once again, Aelium found himself touching the new scar on his chest, and once again fear started to cloud his thoughts, tugging at his resolve.

“I actually died?” He mumbled, so small that only Areios could hear him. The behemoth responded by pulling him in close. Nothing in Persep’s world makes proper sense, he wanted so badly to wake up from this nightmare.

“There are rules,” Thanat mused, ignorant to Aelium’s question, as he carelessly dropped Persep to the ground. “He already broke one.”

“Congratulations, pest.” He spit down at the troll down by his feet. “You’ve tethered your immortality.” The statement was accompanied by a kick to the ribs that no one in the room was expecting.

Persep swallowed something that sounded like a mix between a laugh and a cry, mutated by the new slit in his neck. The slit that, with the sickening sound of skin squelching against skin, seemed to be mending itself.

Aelium and Areios held each other tightly, or as tightly as they could given the exhaustion the day’s events left behind.  Aelium noted the way the giant’s arms quivered around him.

“He’s a reaper, then?”  Zeke clarified, not for himself, but the two in the room that’d been forcefully thrusted into this world. “Just like that?”

“Just like that.” The Embalmer echoed calmly, with his attention now on someone other than his disgrace of a descendant, the clear animosity that poisoned his features melted away. “I really do not know how he did it.”

“That’s really fucked up.” Zeke mumbled.

An uncomfortable silence settled around the five of them, leaving them all to stew in the gravity of what this all meant. Aelium struggled to understand the nuance of what being a reaper meant. And why wouldn’t he? It wasn’t as though any of this made even a lick of sense.

Persep died sweeps ago, he should still be dead.

Aelium himself was just stabbed in the heart, and there was clearly no medical intervention, he should be dead.

He groaned at the headache that started to throb stronger and stronger, this caused Areios to attempt to tighten his hold on him. Selfishly, he drank in the fact that Areios didn’t seem to hold any of this against him.

Maybe he’d never held anything against him after all.

“Can you spell this out for those of us present that have no idea what being a reaper means?” He asked, voice partially muffled into the chest of his giant friend.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head too much, Leli.” Persep said as he brought himself to his feet, his blindfold now undone and slipping to the ground, with a saccharine smile and smugness that made him sound much too happy. “It was not exactly how I planned, but it just means I’ll be here for a while.”

“Yeah, that’s what immortal means. Thanks.” The human, that Aelium wished he had half the backbone of, said in a voice that dripped with sarcasm. “Basically, he found a way to break his bind to a very powerful God — Thazilis must be pissed off by the way — and the universe reconciled that by tethering him to itself.”

Aelium strained to look at Thanat for confirmation, who only nodded along solemnly.

“That doesn’t sound like good news.”

“It’s not good news, it’s like, medium news?” Zeke responded, also turning to look at Thanat, he nodded again. “It means he can’t hurt or kill people anymore, which I guess are his main hobbies?”

Perseps silence was starting to get to Aelium, so he turned his troubled gaze to his twin. Persep was standing at his full height, the chains that offered Aelium the peace of mind that held him together, were undone and pooled at his feet.

Though Thanat seemed unbothered by this, his hand immediately held firm in the younger man’s hair again, keeping him in place, he couldn’t help but be a little nervous that his twin was no longer so thoroughly restrained.

“That’s why he passed out when he stabbed you in the heart. Killing a mortal is the biggest no-no for a reaper, and the universe was correcting his misstep.”

The human kept droning on about rules and reaper responsibilities, but the only thing that throbbed louder and louder in his ears was the confirmation that he did, in fact, die. For a few moments, just a few moments.

He died for a few moments.

His head started spinning, the smell of the blood on his shirt finally started to suffocate him.

When’d the room get so hot? Why couldn’t he make sense of anything Zeke was saying about Persep’s new lot in life? He screamed for everything to stop, for everyone to shut up, but the sound just rattled around in his skull instead of leaving his lips.

For the second time this evening, Aelium passed out, this time his fall was broken by the behemoth that held him so securely.

[perspectivestarters]

Perspective's Sentence Starters; The Tortured Poets Department by Taylor Swift (Part IV)

I LOOK IN PEOPLE'S WINDOWS

I had died the tiniest death.

I spied the catch in your breath.

I'm afflicted by the not knowing.

I look in people's windows.

They have their friends over to drink nice wine.

I look in people's windows in case you're at their table.

What if your eyes looked up and met mine one more time?

I still ponder what it meant.

I triеd searching faces on streets.

What are the chances you'd be downtown?

Does it feel alright to not know me?

I'm addicted to the "if only".

I look in people's windows like I'm some deranged weirdo.

THE PROPHECY

It's gone again.

I got cursed like Eve got bitten.

Was it punishment?

I guess a lesser woman would've lost hope.

A greater woman wouldn't beg.

I've been on my knees.

Change the prophecy.

Don't want money, just someone who wants my company,

Let it once be me.

Who do I have to speak to about if they can redo the prophecy?

Still I dream of him.

I sound like an infant.

A greater woman stays cool.

I howl like a wolf at the moon.

I look unstable.

Gathered with a coven 'round a sorceress' table.

A greater woman has faith.

Even statues crumble if they're made to wait.

I'm so afraid I sealed my fate.

Spending my last coin so someone will tell me it'll be okay.

CASSANDRA

That's where I was when I got the call.

In the streets, there's a raging riot.

Burn the bitch.

When the truth comes out, it's quiet.

They killed *Name* first 'cause she feared the worst

They filled my cell with snakes.

Do you believe me now?

I was in my tower weaving nightmares.

What doesn't kill you makes you aware.

What happens if it becomes who you are?

They set my life in flames.

They knew the whole time that I was onto something.

The family, the pure greed, the Christian chorus line.

They all said nothing.

Blood's thick but nothing like a payroll.

Bet they never spared a prayer for my soul.

You can mark my words that I said it first.

In the morning warning, no one heard.

That's where I was when I lost it all.

I was onto something.

Not a single word was heard.

PETER

My lost fearless leader.

Is it something I did?

The goddess of timing once found us beguiling.

She said she was trying.

Was she lying?

I didn't wanna come down.

I thought it was just goodbye for now.

You said you were gonna grow up.

Are you still a mind reader?

I've heard great things.

Life was always easier on you than it was on me.

Sometimes it gets me.

We both did the best we could do.

I didn't wanna hang around.

I won't confess that I waited, but I let the lamp burn.

I hoped you'd return.

Tell me all that you'd learned.

Love's never lost when perspective is earned.

You said you'd come and get me.

The shelf life of those fantasies has expired.

Forgive me, *Name*, please know that I tried.

I tried to hold on to the days when you were mine.

The woman who sits by the window has turned out the light.

THE BOLTER

She almost drowned when she was six in frigid water.

I can confirm she made a curious child.

Reviled by everyone except her own father.

Splendidly selfish, charmingly helpless.

Excellent fun 'til you get to know her.

She runs like it's a race.

Her best mates laughed and they nicknamed her "The Bolter".

Oh, we must stop meeting like this.

It always ends up with a town car speeding out the drive one evening.

He'll call her a whore

As she was leaving, it felt like breathing.

All her fuckin' lives flashed before her eyes.

It feels like the time she fell through the ice, then came out alive.

He was a cad, wanted her bad.

She liked the way he tastes.

At first blush, this is fate.

What a charming Saturday.

She just knows she must bolt.

She's been many places with men of many faces.

Hearts are hers for the breakin'.

She's got the best stories.

As she was leaving, it felt like freedom.

ROBIN

Long may you reign.

You're an animal.

You are bloodthirsty

You have no idea.

All this showmanship to keep it for you in sweetness.

Way to go, tiger.

Long may you roar.

You're a just ruler.

You look ridiculous and you have no idea.

Buried down deep and out of your reach, the secret we all vowed to keep.

You got the dragonflies above your bed.

You have a favorite spot on the swing set.

You have no room in your dreams for regrets.

You have no idea.

The time will arrive for the cruel and the mean.

You'll learn to bounce back just like your trampoline.

But now we'll curtail your curiosity in sweetness.

THE MANUSCRIPT

Now and then she rereads the manuscript of the entire torrid affair.

I'm not a donor but I'd give you my heart if you needed it.

You're a professional.

No, just a good samaritan.

If the sex was half as good as the conversation was, soon they'd be pushin' strollers.

Soon it was over.

She wished she was thirty..

Couldn't sleep unless it was in her mother's bed.

She dated boys who were her own age.

She was so wise beyond her years.

Everything had been above board.

The years passed like scenes of a show.

The Professor said to write what you know.

Lookin' backwards might be the only way to move forward.

The actors were hitting their marks.

The slow dance was alight with the sparks.

At last, she knew what the agony had been for.

The only thing that's left is the manuscript.

One last souvenir from my trip to your shores.

The story isn't mine anymore.