#this is stupid but let’s have a fun Friday 💕

[sp00kymulderr]

Tomorrow (the 19th) is FRIDAY! I think we deserve to have some fun

✨Let’s have a Pedro Party!✨

To join in the Pedro party, first comment on this post so people know you’re partying, and then do one/a few/all of the following (OR make up your own party related activity):

🎁 Send a Pedro present! Send an ask to a partygoer (or make a post) about a character, Pedro look, Pedro quote etc. that you associate with them (and why)

🎉 Play party games! All the usual (fmk, wyr) or something else - ask about each others top fives (Pedro characters, shows/movies, scenes, tshirts, whatever!), an ask based version of the post it note game (guess which character the asker is), most likely to etc.

🎨Make a Pedro! Create something Pedro related (a moodboard, a silly little canva creation, a drabble, a stick figure drawing, idk a cake?? anything you want!) and post it for all to see

🎧Share a party playlist! Make a playlist for the partygoers, using songs you associate with Pedro, with a character, a certain fic etc.

🎈Make party decorations! Create and send me some Pedro themed party decorations to spruce the place up.

📋Party planning! What would an ideal party look like for your favourite character? Write a little blurb about it, or create a visual representation. OR plan a theme party for one of the other partygoers (for example for me you might make an alien themed party with Dieter jumping out of a cake 😏)

🪩Pedro Party pals! Send me this emoji I’ll tell you which character you’re hanging out with at the party and what you’re doing together.

❤️Most importantly, party with love! Love for Pedro, love for your pals, love for the community of great people we have here.

Random tags of some lovely moots in case they wanna join the party:

@schnarfer @hellfire-state-of-mind @covetyou @futuraa-free @ghotifishreads

@bitchwitch1981 @beefrobeefcal @ozarkthedog @whatsnewalycat @chronically-ghosted

@perotovar @swiftispunk @itsokbbygrl @studioghibelli @maggiemayhemnj

@goodwithcheese @grogusmum @nothoughtsjustmeds @toomanytookas @for-a-longlongtime

@hellishjoel @luxurychristmaspudding @penvisions @seventeenpins @secretelephanttattoo

[anika-ann]

Seven Minutes (S.R.)

Type: TWO-SHOT, independent, canon-ish

Pairining: Steve Rogers x reader    Word count: 8700

Summary: You’re not obliged to go to that party, but you go because it’s a rare occasion during which most of your fellow Avengers meet and have some fun together. Until someone suggests a stupid teenage game. Until you and Steve end up locked in a closet together and things take a turn you couldn’t have possibly predicted.

Maybe you should have. Whenever Tony or – god forbid – Loki gets involved, it’s bound to end up in a disaster. Only this time, the victim of the shenanigans might be your heart.

Warnings: SMUT, 18+, NSFW, (unprotected sex, fingering, glimpses of size kink and praise kink, soft hints of D/s, mirrors, possessiveness;), alcohol, a drop of angst, language (a lot)

A/N: written for @jtargaryen18 Halloween challenge. Prompt in the final notes. I toyed with it so much that it might have been cheating 😅 dividers by @firefly-graphics 💕

Part 1: Seven Minutes in Hell

“I thought about how there are two types of secrets: the kind you want to keep in, and the kind you don't dare to let out.” ― Ally Carter, Don't Judge a Girl by Her Cover

The party had died down; or as Tony said, only the fittest had survived. Banner, drunk on Asgardian liquor, let out a sensible chuckle at the words and fell asleep as he was, sprawled over one of the couches in the communal area, which looked more like a war zone than an aftermath of a giant party.

It wasn’t the mess of empty bottles and glasses and cushions having been thrown around at some point. It was the skeletons. The fake blood. The few smashed pumpkins, literally beaten to a pulp. Luckily, the one single torn-off arm which some idiot had smuggled in despite the strict ban on those, based on the fact that at least half of the guests suffered some form of a PTSD, had been kicked under the bar and covered by a cloth as soon as you had found it. Tony, despite already finding himself in a drunken haze, agreed to kick the asshole who had brought it out. Steve had shot you a grateful look when you had asked Tony to do so. Bucky – thankfully – never learned about the tasteless joke ever taking place.

Unlike the space, the Avengers had an aura of comfort around them. Lying around, some chatting sleepily, chuckling every now and then, some talking animatedly with a few friendly nudges under the ribs, they lounged in the area and welcomed the 1 a.m. announcement by Friday with relative grace.

Except for Tony, who booed and proceeded to glare at every single conscious Avenger present, one by one; Natasha and Clint comfortable on one couch, Steve and you on the other, Thor filling out a huge armchair, Rhodey looking a bit small in the other in comparison, Wanda practically lying in a lounge pug with Vision hovering by her like a guard, Helen and Maria crossed legged on tiny tabourets, Sam and Bucky, having been fighting each for their space on the couch, now sitting carelessly with Bucky’s feet against Sam’s thigh. And then there was Loki, spinning slowly in his egg chair he had charmed up and kept up in the air with his magic, Pepper having reluctantly sat down in the other which Loki had graciously made for her with a snap of his fingers.

“Seriously, guys! Just… boooo! This party is dying! We need to shake things up!” he called out theatrically, standing in the middle of the Sleepy Hollow with judgement written all over his face. Then, he lowered his voice, a wicked smile twisting his lips. “Do you wanna play a game? I do.”

At least four distinct snorts sounded around the group at his poor impression.

“Really, Tones?” Natasha questioned, probably referring to both his acting skills and the suggestion.

“I do want to play a game. It’s called let’s go to bed,” Bucky groaned, rolling his shoulders and throwing his feet back to the ground, startling Sam in the process.

“The night is still young, Barnes,” Clint huffed despite his eyelids barely staying open as he kept twisting a rubber imitation of femur between his fingers. “You sound like an old man.”

“Oh? That coming from you really says something,” Sam pointed out, a good-natured smile curling his lips; at the same time, Tony hummed: “Or a kinky one.”

“I must say I agree with Stark this once,” Thor boomed, nodding thoughtfully as several voices groaned at the gleeful grin lighting Tony’s face. “There seems to be a lull to these revels and it is indeed too soon to retire to bed. The sun has not even risen yet!”

A single clap of hands and Tony was gesturing towards Thor. “See! The Asgardian agrees with me. I must be right.”

“I bet he’s already regretting his words,” Steve noted, drawing a small chuckle from you.

In all honesty, you would be inclined to agree with Bucky on this one. Going to bed sounded heavenly, but there was one huge disadvantage to bed compared to the Sleeping Beauty Castle the Halloween party had turned into: the company wasn’t nearly as good. You weren’t greedy – you wouldn’t need all the Avengers present to come cuddle you in bed. Just one would do. The one whose thigh occasionally brushed yours as you talked about anything and everything, all kind smiles and a slightly tipsy spark in his gorgeous blue eyes which were complimented by the treacherous midnight shade of his one-size-too-small shirt.

“Now, now, Captain. The other Asgardian agrees too,” Loki’s voice slowly sneaked in, something in his tone causing your heart to skip a startled and yet excited beat.

Loki was… a friend. After trying hard for redemption, he had begun to join the Avengers business on occasion, his magic always proving to be of enormous help. His humour was a little wicked and twisted, but his heart was not nearly as dark as people had believed – or even he himself had. You sensed Steve’s wariness towards him still and understood his reasons; and secretly, you revelled in the worry Steve expressed whenever you spent time with Loki, which the golden-hearted captain feared you did so with a little too much trust.

The only reason why you wouldn’t throw it back to Steve’s face that he was questioning your judgement was the fact he had admitted he did actually not do that, ever – but simply cared for your safety – and that fact that he attempted to be as respectful about it as possible. That and the heartwarming knowledge that he thought of you, one way or the other. Maybe him being the person who was giving out the gentlest hugs could have played a role as well. Or perhaps even that you had – like a silly, silly girl – fallen for him long time ago and would let him not only get away with murder at this point, but probably also ask him if he needed any help to hide the body. Because you’d either believe him it was for a good reason that he had committed the crime, his moral compass just about perfect, or simply because he deserved the most loyal friends and loved ones he could get.

The sudden heavy thud snapped you back to present, causing you to jump in your seat. Steve’s warm hand covered yours in an instant, gaze trailing to you to make sure you were alright. As he gently squeezed your hand, you glanced at him and shot him a grateful smile.

He let go as soon as your gaze returned to the source of the noise: a large closet now standing a few feet from the seating area.

“How about this?” Loki suggested, calmly beckoning to the piece of furniture having just appeared out of this air.

“Do you… want to play Seven Minutes in Heaven?” Wanda, suddenly wide awake at the stronger present of magic, questioned.

“Why not? I was under the impression Midgardians enjoyed this game during a party.”

“What are we, thirteen?” Sam asked, eyebrows creased sceptically.

“…going on thirty? Good movie,” Clint hummed, his grin showing pride at his reference.

“Ew, no-“

“Do you even know what Seven Minutes in Heaven is about?” Natasha asked, her expression intrigued; you had no doubt her mind had already begun to race as she tried to decipher the trickster’s motivations.

“Yes. I am quite pleased by the concept. If we play, perhaps I will be lucky enough to spend some private time with lovely Lady Speedy.”

Your eyebrows shot up as your gaze found Loki’s, a provocative smirk twisting his mouth. Interesting. Maybe even intriguing. Except it was not; at least not for the reason one might think. Loki was not at all interested in you. If he had, you would have known without a shadow of doubt. He wasn’t one for subtlety; if he had had an eye on someone, he would make sure to court them, persistently so. Or perhaps he would simply take.

No, Loki had not spent time thinking of you, much like you hadn’t spent time thinking about him.

There was only one Avenger whose company and love you longed for and had for the longest time – and you wouldn’t be surprised if Loki knew. What you hoped he had no idea about was the fact that you could have had it, once.

You could have had Steve, but you had mucked it up, too shocked to yes when he had asked. It had felt too fast, too surreal to be even happening – Steve Rogers asking you out for a cup of coffee – too good to be true.

Naturally, in a very Steve Rogers fashion, he had been too polite to disrespect your decision or let it negatively impact your blooming friendship back then; he had not made a single attempt to ask you out again since. In return, you had been too embarrassed to explain yourself – to explain that you felt like the luckiest girl on Earth, if not in the universe, that you would have jumped at the chance if he as much as hinted he was still interested – and in a very mature way, you never mentioned it again.

That was fine. You and Steve had become friends. Perhaps even good enough friends to mention it as an awkward memory; and only that, because you doubted that he was still carrying a torch for you. He had even briefly dated with Sharon Carter after the incident; he clearly moved on, because there was nothing to move on from. You had barely known each other back then. It wasn’t like you broke his heart or something. You just decided mess up what could have been a beautiful relationship.

Instead, you had a comfortable caring friendship. That counted as a win, yes?

And if you ended up in a closet with him for seven minutes now, you would, once again, acted like mature adults and… hug or something, yes? You would not give in into some stupid game and kiss him just because you’d have an excuse to do so. You would not be tempted to--- no. You respected Steve too much for that. You would never make anything to make him uncomfortable; if you had, you would not only not deserve to call yourself his friend, but even a decent human being.

And you were not thirteen anymore. You knew better. The awkwardness would not be worth it; the rejection would not be worth it. Losing the gift of Steve’s friendship would most definitely not be worth a few seconds of Heaven, of testing whether his lips were be as soft and gentle as you thought, if they tasted like you dreamed of. Knowing whether he would respond, whether he would kiss you, whether maybe, just maybe, there could be the faintest traces of seeing you differently than a friend and colleague.

No, the stakes were be too high.

“Hm… I think we should play,” Natasha said, earning at least five shocked stares, including yours.

“What?!”

“We should definitely not,” Steve protested, leaning forward with a very displeased frown, his eyes burning as he glared murderously at Natasha for entertaining the trickster’s whim.

“I mean… why not, after all? Two people in a closet, in cramped space? What is not to enjoy?” Bucky added, clearly changing his mind about going to bed. He was next at the receiving end of Steve’s disapproval.

“Ask a claustrophobic, I’m sure they’d come up with a reason or two,” you hummed, earning a sardonic ha ha from the dark-haired supersoldier.

“I mean… who knows. Could be magical,” Tony wiggles eyebrows.

“Are we back to 13 going to 30?”

Wanda, Pepper, Maria and Sam said NO with impressive coordination.

“I must say I am intrigued as I cannot quite see the appeal. It would be an enriching experience for me to understand. What is the worst that can happen?” Vision questioned.

“You did not just ask that,” Sam complained.

“Please tell me it’s just a closet and not some sort of a portal to Narnia?” Pepper chimed in, Loki’s smile surprisingly pleasant as he turned to her.

“It is simply a closet, my dear Lady Potts.”

“I don’t know, you guys, it still sounds like a pretty bad idea,” you chuckled nervously as you felt the air shift towards agreement to participate in this ridiculous game.

“Seconded,” Steve grunted by your side – but it was too late.

“Too bad, I’m getting an empty bottle,” Tony blurted out as he practically sprang after the nearest bottle indeed.

It was the perfect opportunity to walk away; it was the last chance to get out.

You didn’t.

Perhaps you didn’t want to look like a coward. Maybe you didn’t want to be a party pooper. You guessed you hoped they would scrape the idea after one round, because they would realize the game was lame and boring. Maybe, just maybe, a little part of you wondered if something interesting would come out of it – and you didn’t want to miss it.

Those were the things running through your head when you walked side by side with Steve, cursing the universe or some sort of physics cheat Tony had pulled or maybe Loki’s magic. Because of course it happened. Of course, the bottle pointed at you – and then on Steve.  

Could have been worse, you reasoned with yourself. Could have been… yeah you didn’t know who. Bruce who might turn in to the Hulk while in there was asleep, so he never was an option.But it was too late to back out now.

Steve, ever the gentleman, let you walk in first, offering a hand, a gentle smile on his face as he rolled his eyes at your friends being children. You squeezed his hand and smiled back, grateful – and calm.

Yes, being with Steve in such tight space with the knowledge what the game was about sent a few tempting thoughts into your head – but you’d be fine. You’d just chat, privately; you had done that countless times before, late night talks and maybe even your head resting on his shoulder when you got too sleepy to sit straight. You’d be fine.

Steve climbed up after you so you stood face to face, flashing you one last comforting smile. And then Tony closed the door behind you, leaving you in utter darkness.

Your first thought was that the inside of the closet was a lot smaller than it had appeared from the outside.

Your second thought was that perhaps that was not the fault of the closet or your eyes; the sheer width of Steve’s shoulders and other proportions of his body which had starred in too many of your dirty dreams and innocent fantasies alike were to blame instead.

Your third thought was that the air was becoming a little too hot and heavy to breathe a little too fast and that you weren’t certain you could last seven full minutes in this space where it felt you might as well already be wrapped in Steve’s arms. The subtle tones of his woodsy cologne, the heat radiating off his skin, the faintest light peeking through the door reflecting in his slightly ruffled hair and in his eyes, caressing his features the very way you always wished.  

Your fourth thought was, incidentally, less of a thought and more of an emotion – a red hot one at that. The flash of anger that ripped through you honestly took you by surprise, and hit you too hard to be ignored.

Because this was stupid.

This game was the stupidest thing possible that your friends could come up with. Steve was entirely stupid with his brilliance and courage and care and morality and outrageous handsomeness and most of all with giving you hope once that you could be good enough for him, that there was a glitch in the universe large enough that would somehow made the two of a potential couple. And you, oh you. You were the most stupidest of it all. To allow yourself to hope as well. To not let go of that fleeting seconds when the light of Steve Rogers was in your reach and you stood there like a dumbass without grabbing it, never speaking of it again then and yet still carrying a torch for him for two idiotic years.

Maybe if one of those things had been different – most likely of all, you – you could have been making out now. Maybe, you would feel his gentle touch in these shadows; or maybe hungry touch even. Maybe, because your friends were nosy assholes and drama queens, they would have banned you from participating in this in fear that they would have to disinfect the closet after you got full seven minutes in here.

Instead, all you had was a tentative brush of Steve’s hand to your elbow and the kind rumble of his voice, laced with worry.

“Hey, Shines. Are you okay?”

Ah yes. Another maddening thing: Steve’s sweet nickname for you. Where others called you Speedy – because of how quickly you had finished the intelligence test and made your way up in the Initiative – Steve had expressed his distaste in the nickname because just around the same time, he had learned about the modern term “speed”. Apparently, he did not like the idea of calling you something that reminded him of amphetamines. So instead, he had once admitted, he converted it in his head to the speed of light. And so Shines had been born.

The affection he sometimes spoke the single word with – the affection you longed for and mostly only imagined – was perhaps even more idiotic than your lack of reaction to his slightly shy advance two years ago.

For someone with your IQ score, you really were surrounded by stupidity and radiated it generously yourself.

The chuckle that escaped you tasted bitter on your tongue. “Why, sure. You?”

Even with the limited amount of light, you could see Steve’s searching gaze clearly. You could practically hear his mind whirling, wondering where the sudden ire had come from.

In an instant, you felt bad for snapping. Your trouble and your insecurities nor your anger at yourself were something he deserved to bear consequences for.

“I’m… fine,” he said after a while, kinder than you would have in his place. “Is there anything I can do to make the ‘sure’ better?”

Yeah, you thought. There were quite a lot of things; either put his mouth on yours – or elsewhere on your body, you weren’t picky – or maybe stop being so damn good of a person and being so damn loveable all the time when he didn’t mean anything beyond friendship by his behaviour.

You swallowed the once again bitter note and charmed a smile, your hand covering the back of his, still softly resting on your elbow.

“No. But thank you. I’m… sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he replied, eyes still searching. And soft. So annoyingly soft and caring.

You lowered your gaze and gulped, not finding it in yourself to respond. What could you even say to that?

The problem with Steve was that even if you weren’t looking at him, you could still feel him looking at you. At rare times, it felt like a punch, if he got truly angry with you – when you did something he considered stupid and dangerous as if you hadn’t been quite inspired by his own bravery – but at other times, like this, it felt like a fluffy blanket and a warm cup of tea pressed to your hands when the blues came knocking on your door.

No words were spoken for a long minute. And then, like you should have known they would, Steve’s arms carefully pulled you to his chest and wrapped you in a hug which felt just like his gaze a moment ago; except this feeling was real. He sucked up all your anger and frustration you into his chest with ease, breathed in once, then twice and unlike you, he simply let it go, allowing you to soak in his affection instead. 

You could cry at the sweet gesture. Sweet, sweet Steve: deadly force, righteous passion, beautiful soul and infinite kindness locked in a body of a gentle giant.

“Thank you,” you muttered into his shirt and you could hear the smile in his voice when he responded, arms tightening just a fraction.

“Any time.”

You felt your lips curl up in a smile too, allowing yourself to bask in the goodness he was. Strong embrace, but kind. Almost too hot to touch, like a sun, but somehow still feeling like sunshine instead. Lips soft as they touched your hairline, fingers gently running through the length of your hair-

You stiffened. It felt too good; it felt like what you wanted but didn’t actually have. Steve Rogers did not kiss you; not your cheek, not your lips, not your forehead or the crown of your head.

Or at least he never had before.

“Steve?”

His smile was a little bashful as he retreated, his hand sliding down your hair, holding your chin in gentle hold you could easily escape should you want to. But you didn’t. Why would you when his thumb caressed your cheek, eyes firmly holding your gaze even as his smile was slightly shaky?

You didn’t dare to stop whatever this was; because this was what you wanted. Whether this was Steve giving into the game only or anything else, you’d take it. Because you didn’t start it, you didn’t force him into something you wanted. He initiated it; he held you as if you were something precious all on his own. If this behaviour expired in a few minutes, well. At least you would have a sweet memory to cherish, wouldn’t you?

“I’ve been thinking of you.”

Your eyes must have been wide – even ridiculously so – at the admission, your heart like a thunder in your chest and in your ears. You… certainly you must have misheard. You must have misinterpreted what he was trying to say. That was not right. Was it?

“…you have?”

His smile widened, eyes full of good-natured amusement. “I’m always thinking of you, Shines. I’m honestly surprised I’m keeping it so subtle that you are this shocked by the revelation.”

You licked your suddenly dry lips. You must have breathed in something. You had too much to drink. Tony sneaked some edibles into the refreshments – yes, that had to be it.

But then the even more rational part of your brain chimed in: you could never dream up something as detailed. And Steve would have been immune to the drugs. He hadn’t drunk too much of the Asgardian liquor from Thor’s flask either.

You were both perfectly sober at this moment – as insane and surreal as it felt. Did Steve really…? You swallowed the slightly hysterical giggle trying to claw its way up your throat.

“You wouldn’t… you wouldn’t make fun of this, would you?”

Steve’s eyes grew serious even as they remained kind.

“No. I wouldn’t,” he assured you, the slightest hint of offence in his tone. “You’re just… you’re everywhere. I try to focus on work, but you’re always on my mind. That smile, those pretty eyes. This… this drive and passion you have and turn it into hard and good work and kindness. Those gorgeous, gorgeous lips…”

You licked again them on instinct, not missing the fact that Steve’s gaze flickered down at the motion.

No way. No way.

You had hit your head. This was a fever dream, this… this was all you wanted and needed, it couldn’t possibly become true all of sudden. Right?

But if this was a fever dream, you might as well enjoy it. If it was reality, even the better. Because Steve Rogers was serious in matters of heart – he was most definitely not pranking you. So if he was saying he had been thinking about you, you had no reason to doubt him.

There rarely ever was a reason to doubt Steve Rogers.

“I… I think about you too,” you reluctantly admitted, his lips suddenly so, so close you could feel his breath when he spoke only one word in response.

“Good.”

The first touch to your lips was nothing but tentative; nothing but temptation and yet everything you could ever want. His hand cradled your face like precious porcelain and his kiss was like one of an artist asking his muse to allow him into her favour. Warm and soft; his lips were as soft and gentle as you had always thought they would be. The tender brush of his fingertips to your face however made your first kiss all the sweeter, as did his smile and the sparkle in his eyes when he released your lips. The giddy feeling burst inside your chest with intensity you couldn’t possibly contain.

“Yeah, I’m… I’m gonna have to agree with good,” you whispered; and before you could feel silly, Steve’s low chuckle echoed in the limited space, his thumb tapping your lips.

“Yeah.”

That was the only warning you received before his mouth were back on yours, letting you taste that smile of his; his arms, still around your waist, pulled you closer against the hard planes of his chest, the sensation reminding you that you could in fact too do more than simply lay your hand on him. He appreciated your initiative with a content hum, the vibration against your lips sending pleasant shivers down your spine and into your belly. When he deepened the kiss, his touch on you growing firmer, angling your head to his liking, you felt like you could melt from the inside, all nerves on the most beautiful fire.

Your startled sound when your back bumped into the wall of the closet drowned in Steve’s mouth, your parted lips but an invitation for him. The sensations were quick to rise into your head like a heady wine and suddenly only seven minutes in whichever alternate reality you felt as if you had entered seemed unfairly short. Your fingers flexed in the material of Steve’s shirt, his large palm sliding to your hip and squeezing. His hips rocked ever so slightly against yours and the semi-hard bulge pressing against your core had you whimper his name just as his lips moved to your jaw.

“Love hearing my name like this from your lips, Shines,” he whispered like a secret into your skin, teeth grazing your sensitive flesh and nearly causing your knees to buckle. I’ll say it as much as you want, you wanted to say, the words stuck in your throat, only a breathy Steve coming out again, much to his apparent delight. “That’s it. Wanna hear it more… but not here.”

The flash of a rationality was brief; before it could take, his lips were back on yours and you felt yourself falling, leaning into his touch, hands wandering over his exquisite body, hips rutting forward at the beautiful, beautiful groan your touch elicited from him.

I did that. He wants me, he wants me like this. I want him. I need him.

The simple thoughts occupied your brain, a last portion of coherency you managed as his palm slid to your ass with purpose and pressed you against his hardness in a promise of what was to come. You decided that you could die a happy woman right there and that you needed his mouth on your more than you needed oxygen; you grabbed onto his face, pulling his lips back to yours, rewarded by a deep kiss and both of his hands grabbing your hips, fingers digging into your flesh with a little too much vigour.

You succumbed to the pleasure of his touch, head spinning, the world passing by in a blur.

It didn’t matter how you got into his room next; it didn’t matter, not when his hands were on you again, an absurdly polite can I? as his dextrous fingers slid the strap of your dress off your shoulder, a kiss to every inch of the newly revealed skin, leaving nothing but hunger for more in their wake.

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart,” he praised as he mouthed at your skin, the new endearment causing your heart to tremble, stomach fluttering pleasantly. “The times I imagined this, imagined you… turn around, Shines.”

You’d swear that you would let Steve Rogers get away with murder; but asking you to turn away from his hot lips, that was toeing the line of insanity.

“Steve-“

“Shhh… I’ve got you,” he cut of your protests, strong hands simply spinning you around.

He rewarded you for the lack of resistance by placing his hand over your stomach, skin hot even over the thin fabric, pressing you back against his chest and his more than evident arousal, lips attaching to the column of your neck, sliding the other strap of your dress down. Instinctively, you leaned your head back, exposing your throat to him, a small but sharp nip of teeth sending a fresh wave of arousal into your core.

Long fingers slid up your throat, turning your head so his lips could meet yours again, demanding and yet so giving, hand inching from your belly down your thigh, toying with the hem of your dress and causing your breath to hitch.

God, you needed him. You wanted him in every way possible, but if this was what came before he’d take you out, you had zero problem with that. You needed to feel him.

The please escaping your newly freed lips sounded almost pathetic to your ears, but Steve clearly disagreed with your assessment.

“Oh sweetheart, you sound so pretty like this… and look at you,” he rasped, nudging you to actually look ahead, only for you to realise you were now facing the tall mirror of his closet, gaze setting on your own face, dominated by the kiss-swollen lips and pupils blown up by lust. “Gorgeous… and you’ll look even more beautiful when you’re coming apart for me. First on my fingers and then…”

You shuddered when his fingers finally slid under your skirt, caressing the lace of your thigh-highs, chest vibrating against your back with an appreciative hum. Your gaze strayed to Steve’s face, only to find his eyes laser focused on your face in the mirror, flashing darkly when his fingertips found the soaked fabric of your panties and pressed.

“So wet for me, Shines. I can’t wait to feel you wrapped around me. Can’t wait to make you mine… you want that, don’t you?” he whispered, your lips parting wordlessly and at the very moment, he pushed the offending fabric to the side and dipped his index finger in your slick. He stroked a few times, coating his fingers in your essence and entered you with two with laughable ease. You pushed your hips forward on instinct, already needing more.

“Steve, oh god-“

“Fuck, look at you,” he rasped, free hand pressing your back to his front, hardness digging into our ass. “I can’t wait to see you take my cock. You’ll be as pretty as a picture…”

Vainly wriggling against his strong hold because that was exactly what you wanted, you caught his smile in the mirror, his lips pressing softly against your temple as his fingers begun pumping in and out of your tight channel, stealing the breath from your lungs. Resigned and secretly thrilled by his dominance, you leaned against his chest, letting your head fall back against his strong shoulder, praying he’d give you more soon.

Instead, he pulled his fingers out altogether, painting your inner thighs with your slick, stepping back, leaving you cold and empty.

“St-“

His hand landed gently on your shoulder, his other hand easily sliding the zip of your dress down your back, letting it fall to the ground. Standing in front of the mirror in nothing but your stockings, soaked panties and lace bra, you shuddered under Steve’s hungry gaze; but at the same time, the adoration and admiration shining from his gaze even made your stomach flip and stopped your hands from self-consciously covering yourself at least a bit.

You weren’t shy. You weren’t ashamed of your body; but goodness, Steve’s eyes trailing the length of it, taking in every inch of bare skin and appreciative of how the fabric hugged the parts still covered made you feel like a goddess. A muse.

His gaze was hypnotic as his eyes met yours in the mirror again, his smile soft before it earned a lustful edge.

“You’re a piece of art, Shines…” He stepped back to you, lips attaching back to your neck and his fingers pushed the panties down and let them slide down your legs, hand sprawling over your pubic bone and teasing your core with his fingers again. “And I’m going to appreciate that in every way I know… but you’re gonna watch. I wanna watch you as you fall apart for me, and I want you to see how beautiful you look when I make you mine. Can you do that, sweetheart?”

You didn’t think. You nodded at the promise of pleasure, instantly rewarded by three fingers stretching you, one of your hands landing on his wrist to keep him inside, the other grabbing at his head behind you. You felt his smile against your neck before he sucked on your skin, setting a punishing pace, this time letting you meet his advances. The sight of his large hands over you was insanely erotic; his size and strength captured in a repetitive picture, your muscles contracting as you tried to encourage him to give your more. The pleas seamlessly blending with his name were falling from your lips as the pressure inside you built and built, the wicked curl of his fingers nearly having you reach for the stars.

“Oh my god, oh my god, Steve-“  

“Watch, sweetheart,” he reminded you feverishly, the blue of his irises nearly swallowed by his blown pupils, dark, pleased and unabashedly on you taking his fingers one moment, on your face contorted with pleasure next, the sheer hunger in his gaze aimed at you only adding fuel to the heat in your abdomen.

You tried to keep your eyes on your pair, you truly did, just to please him, just to gain more. It earned you a whispered praise to your ear, a sucking kiss on your throat and circling motions on your clit.

That had you were done for. Your eyes fluttered close as you clenched around Steve’s fingers with a breathless cry, ecstasy exploding inside you and lighting your body on fire.

You could feel Steve’s burning gaze on your still, but he didn’t push you again, didn’t deny you just because you didn’t give him what you couldn’t at the moment, too wrapped in your bliss. Of course, he didn’t. He was still Steve; much filthier than you imagined, but still himself. Warm and safe, holding you close when his motions slowed down, prolonging your pleasure, still supporting your weight when your legs nearly gave out. Chuckling silently with an adoring soft kiss to your jaw when you breathed out a thank you, thinking about the fact he caught you, probably sounding as if you were thanking him for absolutely ruining you with his fingers only, not so subtly showing you that you might not survive when he’d turn it up a notch and actually took you.

“You’re beautiful, doll,” he whispered into your hair, carefully pulling out his fingers as not to hurt you. “Even more beautiful that I imagined.”

You shuddered, unable to respond with words, turning around and chasing his lips instead. He obliged and kissed you sweetly, wrapping his arms around you close, only now having you realize he was still fully clothed himself. And that the way his had cock pressed against his slacks must have been painful at this point. For that reason alone – that he put your pleasure before his, as you knew he would – you would sink to your knees in an instant if your core wasn’t already throbbing for him.

“I want you,” you said against his mouth, revelling in his smile and the playful nip on your lower lip he graced you with upon your admission.

“Good. Because I need you. I need to see those pretty lips parted for me and unable to speak anything but my name when I fill you up so well you’ll never even think about another man again,” he said slowly, letting every heavy syllable sink into your skin and have your already racing heart nearly give out – and letting your lips loose.

“Yes. Please.”

When you suddenly found yourself in the air, held firmly in his arms and carried to the bed, you couldn’t find the shame in you to be bashful about your needs.

Because when he sunk into you and delivered on his promises, you felt like you entered another plane of existence. When his hands grabbed onto you, his body an art piece you could feast your eyes on and touch, you suddenly understood his need for a mirror, for a glimpse from every angle, the absolute beauty of your bodies together as one, of seeing him lose himself to pleasure of his own.

His chants of endearments, praise and mine echoed in your ears, your lips indeed only remembering to speak his name, whisper it and scream it. When he lifted you to your high two more times, filling you with his spent to make you his indeed, you knew that you would be his forever; you had been for a long, long time.

“You’re mine, you’re mine, you’re mine…”

“Yours, I am yours.”

Blinking your eyes open, you slowly realized you never knew darkness could feel so violent to your eyes. Steve’s deeply concerned gaze was firm on you, frown settled in his brows, both hands on your biceps holding you as if you were about to pass out any second.

His relieved breath brushed over your face, shoulders sagging.

“Thank god, Shines. I was starting to get worried. Are you alright? It’s like you went to a completely different place for a moment there.”

Why were you standing? You had been just lying down, the heat of Steve’s skin seeping into yours from your back and his arm wrapped around your middle as you had fallen asleep.

“What?” you rasped, feeling the ghost of the soreness in your throat as you nearly lost your voice having screamed his name. You blinked again as the image of his beautifully red parted lips trembling with your name flickered in front of you, disappearing just as fast – replaced by him growing worried by the minute.

In a closet. You were in a closet. The sound of idly chat and chuckles dimmed by the walls of the closet reached your ears. The party was still in a sleepy swing; a stupid game was still on.

The realization was like a bucket of icy water dumped on your heated body, all-consuming confusion swallowing all your thoughts.

But… how? You--- that wasn’t- you had been to Steve’s room. He had—- he had kissed you, right here, a dream coming true when he admitted he was still thinking of you and was ready to act on it, his hot soft lips, his hands, deliciously long thick fingers, wickedly dextrous as they sneaked between your legs, opened you up for his--- he had stretched you so good, in every way imaginable, his gaze so dark as he watched you both in the mirror, so sweetly and devilishly delighted at filling you up to the brim, making you his-  

“Okay, that’s it, Shines. We’re out of here-”

“No!” you blurted out, horror seizing you at the mere thought of coming out to the light right now. With you face flushed; with your core painfully empty and slick even as the aftershocks of your orgasms, having felt so real, turned from echo of pleasure to mortifying all-consuming shame. “No, no, it’s fine! I’m fine. I just… I must have had too much to drink and zoned out.”

“You didn’t drink that much,” Steve opposed swiftly, his gaze so unnerving, and could he just stop, stop looking at you like he cared, so sweet and nice and so frustratingly not yours even if the affection in his gestures felt all the same as in whatever fucked-up dream experience you just had just been through. “We should-“

“Please, don’t-- they’re never gonna let us live this down if we bail,” you argued lamely, unconvincing even to your own ears, feeling tears burn in your eyes and desperately trying to stop them from showing.

“Fuck that. It’s just a stupid game.”

‘Fuck, look at you. I can’t wait to see you take my cock. You’ll be as pretty as a picture…’ echoed in your ears, so crystal clear you would have sworn it had happened – but what other evidence did you need that it was just a wild creation of your mind?

Steve didn’t love you. Steve didn’t want you this way. It had never happened. You were still in this closet in the dark, blinded by the light his persona, this time annoyed since the light only hurt your eyes.

And you heart. Your stupid little foolish heart.

“…yeah. Yeah, just a stupid game. Just… so so stupid,” you muttered, no longer talking about the game – and unable to stop the tears from coming anymore.

You laughed bitterly, understanding nothing, but not caring, even more irked at the alarmed expression on Steve’s face when he noticed the few glistening drops rolling down your cheeks.

“Shines… what is it? What can I do to make it better?”

His hands, having been burning a brand onto your biceps, shifted, one caressing your arm, the other rising to your face; and you couldn’t take it. You couldn’t take the touch, not when it meant less than what you wanted and needed, not when his fingertips brushed your cheek as if it was something precious to him – not when you knew it wasn’t.

You stepped back out of his reach hastily, your back hitting the wall; but not without catching the flash of hurt on his face when you rejected the affection and comfort he was offering.

“I’m sor-“ The words died in your throat, the sudden almost electric shift in the air making your hair stand on end.

As fast as if you snapped your fingers, Steve was no longer looking at you.

In fact, he wasn’t looking at anything.

Your stomach dropped.

“…Steve?”

Your whisper was tentative, but your step forward was not. Heart thundering in your chest, your eyes roamed his suddenly expressionless face. What the hell was happening?

Gulping, you reached out for his hand with yours; but as you squeezed, his hand remained limp by his side.

“Steve, can you hear me?”

Frustration and shame swiftly forgotten, your fingers slid to his wrist, feeling for his pulse. It fluttered under your touch like a hummingbird; but with how fast your own heart was beating, it might have been that you could feel your own.

You went to a completely different place for a moment there, you recalledhis words, real words, right after you found him observing you with concern rather than pulling you to his bare chest after an intense session of fucking.

Whatever had happened to you, be it blamed on alcohol or anything else, was clearly happening to him now. That or you accidentally triggered some kind of a flashback with the way you had reacted. If you had, you’d never forgive it yourself; but you’d have time to feel like an asshole later. Now, Steve needed your help. Fast.

Except you had no idea what was actually taking place in here, let alone how to solve it.

“Yeah, fuck this game.”

You were not going to stay here another second. Not when Steve, sweet kind Steve who deserved the world, was stuck in some strange trance you might have caused.

You were just about to bang on the door of the closet with all your might when a gasp for air had your head snap back to Steve so quickly you almost gave yourself a whiplash.

Your hands were on his arms to steady him before you could think about it twice. Relief flooded your body when his gaze unmistakably found yours, even if he stared at your wide-eyed, clearly rattled by whatever had just happened.

“Shines?” he rasped, blinking a few times as if to adjust his sight to the darkness again, following the lines of your arms to where you were holding onto him with confusion. You swiftly dropped your hands, his frown only deepening at that.

“Sorry. Are you okay?”

“I--- I think so?”

The uncertainty in his voice and the suddenly unreadable emotion in his face made a lump grow in your throat.

“Yeah, the fact that this sounds more like a question than an answer really tells me you were right,” you stated, feeling small as you saw Steve had trouble finding his footing. As his friend, you had the privilege to see him vulnerable more often than the general public, but that didn’t mean the fact he seemed clueless and slightly lost now was still unsettling. “We should get out of here, right now. You were staring blank ahead for at least a minute. You really scared me, Steve.”

His eyebrows shot up as he learned that was what happened.

“I was…? That’s what-- you scared me too. You were staring into space before too... What happened to you in that time?” Steve queried, gently despite obviously being affected himself. “Do you… do you remember any of it?”

You let out a small distressed noise, heat of shame flooding your body all over again.

Yeah, no. You were not going to tell him what exactly happened, regretfully only in your head.

You rarely lied so blatantly, less so to Steve, but these were desperate times. You’d rather keep at last some of your dignity.

You licked your lips. “I… I just zoned out. And then suddenly you were here, asking if I was sure I was okay. You?”

His eyes searched your face for a moment as if he could sense your lie – or at least lack of complete honesty. Yet, he didn’t press, swallowing loudly instead and giving you a shaky smile.

“…yeah. Yeah, same. That was… strange.”

No kidding. You believed him losing consciousness the way he had was strange indeed.

Except when you zoned out, you dreamed of a world where Steve railed you into oblivion while watching you both in a mirror. Until now, you thought that shoving you against a wall and hauling you up in those enormous arms and railing you like that would be more than enough to satisfy your cravings, but apparently you were wrong. But never mind that, right? You could be flexible… flexible enough, in more ways than just one. God knew sex with a man as fit as Steve might require some stretching.

You licked your lips again, mouth feeling dry at the memory. And yet. It wasn’t all a memory. He still was so close, watching so intently. Almost as if… no.

You laughed without a trace of humour.

“Yeah, well, maybe Stark laced the walls with something when he was closing the door-“ your voice trailed off, eyes growing wide as you entertained the wild thought. “Actually, you know what, I wouldn’t even be surprised.”

Honestly, it would be a perfectly plausible explanation. In fact, you wanted that to be the explanation; it shifted the blame. You and Tony could share the blame for the inappropriate images still flashing in your mind at least.

Not to mention that theorizing was the most welcomed distraction you could get in the tiny space growing hotter by the minute, full of Steve’s masculine scent seeping into your skin and making your underwear even damper by the second.

“Hm…” Steve hummed, intrigued, his concern melting into outrage. “Loki suggested the game and made the closet. Whatever happened could be on him.”

You frowned at the implication, instinctively protective of the god of mischief; Tony was the kind of guy who would pull this kind of shenanigans using precisely the fact Loki might end up being blamed while he’d laugh his ass off.

“Tony didn’t exactly protest, maybe he just jumped at the chance.”

“Hold on a second… do you think they would team up? To deliver some sort of an advanced Halloween prank?”

Your first instinct was to say no. The thought was absurd. Loki and Tony tolerated each other at best, Tony being one of the people having the hardest time forgiving Loki for the destruction he had once caused… when it suited him. Other times… well.

“I’m…” you hesitated, “I’m not sure, actually. But I know I’m not laughing.” For sure.

Steve face was serious as he observed you, worry creeping into his expression again – you only hoped he forgot all about your earlier outburst, even as you were aware that was very unlikely.

“Can’t say I do. Once we’re out, this game is over.”

“Yeah, good idea,” you agreed instantly. “Are you sure that you’re okay?”

He seemed a little flushed, a little shell-shocked still. Then again, you imagined you did too. At least you hoped you did; you hoped Steve couldn’t read you like a book… and you hoped Wanda was smart enough not to enter your mind while you were in here.

Oh god, Wanda.

“Yeah… but that’s only cause it’s not a terrible imposition to be here with you of all people,” Steve said lightly, a ghost of a genuine smile curling up his lips, an unvoluntary smirk passing over yours at his choice of words.

“Well, I’m honoured not to be a terrible imposition to you, Captain,” you sassed, unable to stop the warmth spreading in your chest. “I suppose there are worse people to get stuck with.”

“Such a compliment,” he threw back readily, eyes twinkling. Minutely – and you would swear it – his gaze flickered to your lips.

You heart started racing. You only imagined it. There was no way. Was there? Or…?

“Shines, I… there’s something I think I should tell you,” Steve said slowly, voice turning surprisingly soft.

You blinked, the feeling of déjà-vu hitting you like a train. You had to be dreaming again. There was no way he said those words, not so tenderly, not-

The door opened so suddenly you had to squint against the flood of light; light as harsh as the truth, overtaking all of your senses.

You stumbled out of the tight space with a deep breath, the colder air sobering you up fast.  Whatever Steve was about to say, it didn’t matter; it was probably your mind playing tricks on you again and if it wasn’t, it was probably just words of consolidation he came up with at the spot, an attempt to sooth whatever had bothered you before. Nothing more.

Because whatever you had fantasied about in the closet, it was just that: a fantasy. True, one you weren’t aware you had, but a fantasy nonetheless.

Steve had long moved on from asking you out two years ago. Whatever could have been, you had missed your chance then; he was just being friendly. He tried to offer comfort, because that was what he did. Even when you hurt him by your rejection of it, even when he was rattled himself by whatever he had experienced, he tried to comfort you again what could be two minutes later, because that was what good friends did.

Not a terrible imposition – that was what he said, after all. Even as you knew he probably chose the words on purpose to distract you and amuse you, it was not exactly a declaration of love. There was nothing but friendship between you, not from his side and that meant you would keep it that way unless you were ready to risk it all.

Which was going to be never.

As Steve firmly announced that the game was over, contrary to the booing from several Avengers, you wondered what it would take to rename the stupid activity to Seven Minutes in Hell.

Part 2

Steve Rogers masterlist 

Complete masterlist

Thank you for reading 🥰 I hope you had fun! Leave feedback if you have the energy and time, we love interaction in this house💕

I suppose this is where you could end it, but you won't find the what the heck actually happened and how - and what will happen next 👀 I hope to post part 2 soon since it's almost done 🎃 If you enjoyed and wish to be tagged, let me know :)

Prompt: 7 Minutes in… Where?: You know the game. Only when you and your significant other are locked in the closet for 7 minutes, you’re transported somewhere else.

Many thanks for Jamie for hosting this challenge and stirring this sleepy fandom to life 🥰

[harrywavycurly]

For Eddie’s person is there a time when Eddie needs them so he like says what he needs out loud? Like when he just misses them and needs a hug? I’m obsessed btw 💕💕

Hiiii babes!!! Ohh I hope you like this, it’s short and sweet but let’s you see what it’s like when Eddie asks for something for the first time! Uhg same I’m obsessed with them too💖

-find all things Eddie’s Wish here✨

Tag List: @miss-celestial-being @edsforehead @starrywhitenight @mrsjellymunson @5sosjay @emma77645 @akiratoro420 @elegantkoalapaper @squidscottjeans @mikromoon @daddysmodifiedprincess2 @niallerlover8022 @twilightsfairie @pausmoon @pauphs @bl4ckt00thgr1n

Eddie feels like he’s walking in slow motion as he wonders aimlessly around the carnival that’s been in town for a few weeks, he figured it would be a good place to kill time on a Friday night. He doesn’t really know why he didn’t ask you to join him but part of him thinks it’s because he’s worried he gets on your nerves always having to make sure he’s okay and happy, so you deserve to have a night off. But he finds himself wishing you were with him as the night goes on and he’s alone at a picnic table watching people walk by smiling and laughing.

“Damn,” he mumbles to himself as he looks down at his watch on his wrist and sees it’s getting close to everything shutting down for the night. “I could uhm…use some…company if..you’re listening?” He feels stupid saying the words out loud but he doesn’t know if you’d be able to hear him if he just said them in his head, he’s still not totally sure how that whole mind reading thing works.

“I’m always listening.” You inform him as you take a few steps out of the shadows so you’re standing in front of where he’s sitting. Eddie playfully rolls his eyes as he looks up at you and sees your hand reaching out to tuck a few stands of his hair behind his ear.

“If you’re always listening why didn’t you show up earlier?” You place your hand on his cheek making him instantly lean into your touch causing a smile to form on your face.

“Because I wanted to give you some time…I could tell you wanted to actually ask me to come join you.” Eddie doesn’t know how to react to that because you’re right, he did want to ask you to come but it was mainly to see if you’d show up or not because normally you pop up when he needs something not because he asked for you. “Aren’t carnivals supposed to be fun?” You joke as you remove your hand form Eddie’s cheek and reach your hands out for him to take so you can help him off the bench.

“They can be if you’re with the right people.” He answers as you pull a slick move and pull him into your arms for a tight hug, something he should’ve seen coming because a hug is always one of the first things you give him anytime you see him.

“Well thank god I’m here then.” Eddie just smiles as you begin running your hands up and down his back to help him relax as he rests his chin on the top of your head. “Can we do the swings? I’ve never done them before and they look too fun to pass up.” Eddie doesn’t have time to answer as you pull away from him and grab his hand and lead him in the direction of the ride. His previous boredom now long gone as you drag him from ride to ride for the rest of the night until it closes.

[spotsandsocks]

Fuck it Friday 🌈

Tagged by @honestlydarkprincess @hippolotamus @daffi-990 @wikiangela @disasterbuckdiaz thank you you wonderfully talented people 💕

Sooooo my angst in autum fic is going out this next weekend it even has a name The Price of Love (angst with a happy ending cos I’m well me!) here’s a tiny tease…I’m going with double throwback trauma for Buck (trapped and water) and some helplessness and letting people down for Eddie! Sounds fun huh!

“Pretty stuck huh?” Buck’s trying to keep it lighthearted and Eddie doesn’t really appreciate it. The water’s already moved an inch higher.

“Is it broken? Does it hurt?”

Bucks tone deflates, “um I don’t think so, it’s not too bad, not like before.”

“Have you tried to get it out?” It’s a stupid question. He knows that but his brain is feeling slow, all he can see is Buck’s trapped leg and the way the water is rising.

Blue eyes meet his; yes, it’s a stupid question. He looks away again back to the spot Buck's leg disappears.

And cos it’s FIF I will share another bit of shifter fic …

This is Maddie talking to Bobby.

He was fine for three weeks, he’d healed then I woke up to our mom screaming. She screamed and screamed. It was so loud. I ran in and there he was, cowering in the corner. It was a dog, he was so scared. I thought Evan had smuggled him in but Evan was gone and it wasn’t a dog.

Mom was still screaming and he ran, he ran right past us. Dad opened the front door and he went straight out.

And author!buck under the cut. A bit more from the accident scene.

Hen hands him a blanket from the kit and he wraps it round Buck’s shoulders pulling it tight. The man is definitely heading towards shock now. His hands are shaking as his adrenaline crashes.

“Ok quick check. Name?”

“Buck, um Evan Buckly.”

“Year?”

“2023”

“President?”

“Maybe I don’t follow politics.”

Eddie laughs and is surprised at how relieved he feels that the man is probably ok. “You’d still know the president Buck.”

Buck’s eyes sparkle and focus on him a little better as he answers “Biden.”

“Ok you’re good. I have to keep moving so stay here and someone will get you in an ambulance and to the hospital.”

Eddie notices how Buck’s eyebrows draw together and is instantly worried again.

“What is it ? Headache? Blurred vision, You feel sick?

Buck looks up at him and he really shouldn’t be quite so captivated by bright blues eyes as he is, especially at work. Those distracting eyes hold him captive, as Buck explains.

“No but if I’d said Clinton or Obama would you have stayed with me?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, “No” he can’t keep the exasperated smile off his face “but I would have sent you to the hospital sooner.”

Tags for my beloveds @monsterrae1 @shortsighted-owl @rogerzsteven @buddierights @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy @thewolvesof1998 @wildlife4life @spaceprincessem @loserdiaz @heartshapedvows @like-the-rest-of-la @the-likesofus @bekkachaos @giddyupbuck @housewifebuck @underwater-ninja-13 @eddiebabygirldiaz @exhuastedpigeon @stagefoureddiediaz @cowboy-buddie @thekristen999 @canonicallyobserving911

[oogaboogaspookyman]

Better pinned post let's fuckin' go folks

NAME: Tapes, Spookyman, Spooky, Spooker, whatever the hell comes from my url tbh lol (feel free to call me Sinner or Slut that's an option too since i'm as horn knee as a fuckin' rabbit/j)

(There's also Six if you wanna refer to good ol' Murder Drones me)

This is an autistic, bisexual, essentially genderfluid freak of nature that has a questionable mental/emotional stability and mmaaaaaaayyyy orrrrr mmmaayy not have some other disorder apart from the mentioned autism, a possibility being Borderline

I work on things that are either extremely fucked up or just dumb stupid gang doing dumb stupid gags, but i do like me some comfort stuff~

I am. Pretty dumb and immature and lack impulse control plussss... the energy to actually do shit about it lmao. Yes this means i'll sometimes casually say or do insensitive things without knowing pretty much hhhhh (and the rejection sensitivity doesn't help)

Oh yeah i'm also pretty aggressive as in "HOW DARE THEE MAKE ME CRY LIKE THIS I'M GONNA EAT YOUR LIVER". That and the other sense that i'd rather not disclose for personal reasons

What am i into? Let's see here...

Murder Drones (V💕💕💕💕💕💕💕)

My own hypothetical animated series called A Grim Place. If you want me to ramble about it tell me!! Asks are open and dms are up!!

Internet horror (ya ever seen The Walten Files? Lacey Games? They're good examples)

Friday Night Funkin'. It's on the god damn title

Body horror

Boys and girls that can pretty much kill me. Horrible taste, i know

DOG NIGHTMARES SONG THAT FUCKS PLEASE LISTEN TO IT

The Amazing Digital Circus, a bit

Cult Of The Lamb (i made a mascot horror au for this lmaooo)

Ruler Of Everything, my life force

Etc etc etc i don't got the energy to list everything, so it's all off the top of my head

Dni? Eh too lazy, you know the basics and you'll learn more of me later anyway

If you're looking for the 100 reasons to live post, here's the link. Please stay with us, i'd hate to see you go like this. There's always another day.

FUN SHIT TO DO BECAUSE I'M BORED

Art trades (OPEN)

Requests (OPEN)

Flirt with my fucking characters it's funny (OPEN)

What do my blorbos think of yours? (OPEN)

Crack ships lmaoooo (OPEN)

Glimpses into the past and future (OPEN)

Those games where you give me like- an expression based on uhhh a number and a letter like- A5 and i draw a guy feeling a thing yeah that stuff you know what i'm talking about (OPEN)

A Grim Place designs!!! (OPEN)

Shippy ask stuff heehoo (OPEN)

Flirt with me i'm bored as hell every day (OPEN forever because i'm bored like that)

Idfk dude lmao no better ideas i'll add more as time goes by

EXTRAS!!!

Beaverscratch translator for all your spooky lore related needs~

Whatever else i come up with lol

[eddiessidegirl]

Your DMs are always welcome, my dear. Ohh! I almost forgot! I have a prompt for you. Congrats on the followers! You deserve it 💕 I wanna do a fun sleepover too, really soon.

Could I possibly request Eddie with an alt/punk girlfriend? I don't usually see a whole lot of Punk!Reader and it would make my week. Something fluffy and fun, no pressure.

Omg, this took forever and I’m so so so sorry 😭 please forgive me. I hope this is good, and makes sense.

For Want Of

Summary: Punkrocker Tara is in love with Eddie Munson

Pairing: Eddie x Punk/Alt!Fem Reader

Warnings: Standard 18+ for my blog, this is a fluff piece, angst (if you squint), mutual pining, minor drug use and drinking (typical teen shit), let me know if I missed anything

Word count: 4166 words

Alarm clock blaring, record player left in the final stages of playing last nights record, and the person sized lump on the bed under the covers. This was how Tara’s mother found her in the morning on this particular Friday morning. “Tara, I swear to Jesus himself if you do not get out of bed this minute, you’re losing car privileges this weekend and you will not be able to go hang out with your little friends. You’ll be forced to clean out the garage with your father.” A cigarette dangled from her mothers thin, pursed lips her fake attempt at being a good mother was such a lie. She was only mad that her stupid church friends heard that her only daughter was out at all hours of the night hanging out with other teens who dressed like she did: coloured hair, dark makeup and listening to Misfits on full blast while driving the streets of Hawkins, Indiana. But most of all her mother hated hearing she’d been seen talking to and being around a one Eddie Munson. He was a drug dealer, a cult leader, and he listened to “that God awful music” as her mother put it.

“Will you lower your fucking voice? I heard you the first time you bellowed at me like an hour ago. Fucks sake.” Her voice draped in sleep, mascara and eyeliner smudged and giving her the raccoon look. Tara pushed the blankets back and slid into her jeans and pulled a Ramones shirt over her head - not bothering with a bra.

Jonathan was already waiting outside for her, mug of coffee in hand for her to drink while they drove to pick up Robin, his little brother Will in the back seat, his newest companion guide for his game night with his friends in hand, he didn’t even notice her sliding into the front seat. “So, is today the day? Or are you never gonna tell him? I mean Graduation is coming up quick, and you’re not gonna be here forever,” He asked her, he’d known she’d had a thing for the town drug dealer for ages but never worked up the courage. Sure she could throw down with assholes who grabbed her ass but Munsons’ chocolate eyes just made her stomach do flips. Her arm reached across the front seat and she shoved her best friend.

“Shut it, Byers. What about you and Wheeler? You guys gonna cut the shit and finally figure out your college bull? Or are you just gonna pretend that you still haven’t gotten your rejection letter to Emerson?” He shot her a nasty look, but it softened when he saw she was just poking fun at him, she laughed teasingly an scooped her hair into a bun.

They secured Robin who was all giggles about this girl Vickie and she loved how happy her friend was, being yourself was hard in this town but the three of them did their best to never hide their true selves around each other. It just sucked big time that the rest of the town didn’t subscribe to the same thoughts and feelings.

-

Tara had turned 18 in December, and while Eddie was still in high school he was a super senior, 19 going on 20. She’d liked him ever since she could remember, but it became more prevalent when he turned up to school when she was 13 and he 15, his buzzed hair grown out and dressed in a battle vest and leather with heavy metal band pins all over it. She herself had always been more into the punk scene. She’d seen the Clash in concert in Chicago with Jonathan and they were planning to she The Cramps this summer before she moved for college. But she could tolerate his music tastes, if only he paid her an ounce of attention aside from selling her dime bags here and there.

She’d gotten lost in her thoughts and wasn’t paying attention as they exited the car, “watch it freak I don’t want to catch whatever it is you have wrong with you.” Carol Perkins cackled and turned back towards her friends, brushing off pretend dirt as they walked away from the group. Tara flipped them all the middle finger and shoved her bag further up her shoulder. “Christ, you’d think she’d have levelled out after Wheeler smacked her when she made fun of her for dating you…” Tara muttered to Jonathan. Will had quickly gotten out of the car and was running towards his little nerd herd, the four of them colliding around Eddie and his friends, collectively they were the Hellfire Club, the only Dungeons and Dragons club in all of Hawkins and subsequently made them the butt of every joke, but Tara knew that after the years of trauma those kids had suffered they deserved too feel some happiness even if they were mocked behind their backs.

Robin nudged her back “can you go get us some weed for this weekend? I can’t get caught with it in my room again, my parents are already on edge after the last time.” There was a smile on her friends lips that said this was more than a transactionary meeting that would be happening.

A small huffing noise came from Taras throat. “Later. I’ll pop a note into his locker for a lunch meeting.”

Which she did, it was a folded triangle note with few words “Forest clearing. Lunch. -T” Eddie pocketed the note, grinning, Tara was his favourite customer, not only because she was a consistent buyer which made it possible to do upkeep on his van but also because she was a person who didn’t judge him, her being hot was just a bonus. And what Tara didn’t know is that he had a thing for her too, and she’d never noticed that he gave a deep discount on all her purchases. Hell, she could ask to walk on his back in her Docs and he’d say “yes please” and ask her to do it again.

-

Lunch rolled around and both parties were walking enthusiastically towards the meeting spot, Eddie, lunch box in hand and Tara, with her headphones on listening to a mix-tape that Byers had given her to check out.

She was walking head down and collided with something hard, but also soft, clearly a person. She took off her headset and yelled “Hey! Watch where the fuck you walk asshole!” But when she actually focused on who she was yelling at it her whole face went beet red, in fact if you’d placed her face next to an actual beetroot you wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference between the two. It was Eddie. He’d been standing by the bench watching her walk towards him the whole time and when she smacked into him he lost it. His body was rocking back and forth with laughter, tears streaming down his cheeks as he tried to compose himself, one of his ringed hands clutching the picnic table for stability.

“I’m so sorry, that was actually one the best things I’ve seen, T.” His voice slightly hoarse from laughing, “y-you just..and then…oh my god.” And he was off again.

Tara tried her hardest to be mad, but she couldn’t, it was funny, and the hard shell exterior she had always cracked a little when she was around Eddie. “Shuddup Munson…” she mumbled, her mouth in a smile, reaching to punch his arm lightly. “I’m supposed to be here buying weed, not making you piss yourself.”

He sat down and placed his elbow on the table, his lunchbox beside him, hand tucked under his chin, “ooo a woman serious about her business.. I love it” his eyes sparkled and watched her sit, clocking the fact that’s her chest jostled freely but focused on her face. “How much are we talking?” His nimble fingers opening the lunch box, gesturing to the nuggets inside.

“An eighth’ll do.. it’s for Robin, Jon and I for the weekend, we’re going to watch movies and play some pool at the Byers since their moms going to Hoppers this weekend,” he’d nodded and starting doling it out, it was like time slowed down and then sped up because before Tara knew it her mouth was speaking words and she couldn’t stop them from coming, “y-you should come too, Jon’s bringing Nancy and Robin will be bringing Vickie, I really don’t want to be playing pool on my own.” The blush had come back just as strong only now it was creeping down her neck and disappeared into her shirt. What was she doing? This was stupid. She told herself of course he didn’t wanna hang out with a bunch of 18 year olds.

“Sure, I mean, I’ve got nothing better to do, just running campaign tonight and then free all weekend.” She couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, but it didn’t seem like it. Her heart raced. “It’s on me since I’ll be there, don’t worry about paying me.” He handed her a bag that was clearly more than what she asked for and got up. “See you there, sweetheart” he called out, and disappeared into the trees back to his van to calm his nerves. He was basically going on a date with the girl he liked and he couldn’t believe it.

“I didn’t even tell him when it was…” Tara couldn’t find him to tell him and she didn’t want to be late to class, since the teacher was friend of her mothers and she didn’t need more trouble before the weekend.

-

Saturday evening arrived faster than she thought it would. Bad Religions’ ‘We’re Only Gonna Die’ played on the speaker, Nancy was learning how to play pool with Vickie, Robin teaching both of them, Jonathan and Tara drinking a beer in the corner laughing every time one of them launched a cue ball off the table and had to get it. The air in the room was hazy with the smell of weed. Everyone was there, except Eddie, maybe he’d forgotten or maybe he just didn’t want to come after all. Besides why would he want to hang out with them when he could be hanging with his band mates or anyone else for that matter.

Eventually though, the windows lit up and at first everyone thought it was Joyce come back but then they heard Dio blaring from the vehicle and they knew it was definitely not Joyce. Tara went outside to meet Eddie, the air outside only slightly chillier than the house, plumes of smoke exiting behind her form.

“I see you guys started without me, it’s ok I brought extra provisions” he motioned to the bag of weed in his pocket and the beer in his hand. Eddie tucked his free arm into his pocket and tilted it towards Tara. With the high she was experiencing being full force she was more apt to be nice to him, and she took the elbow he extended.

“Didn’t think you were gonna come, Munson.” Her eyes were blissed out and a smile across her features, she led him into the house, showing him where to put his stuff before going to the makeshift game room that they’d thrown together for the festivities.

A low chuckle escaped his mouth and he leant down so only she could hear him “I’d never miss an opportunity to hang out with my favourite client, especially when she’s dressed like this” he spun her slowly so to not give her stomach a bad turn, she’d forgotten she’d put on a leather skirt and a lacy tank top with her army jacket, it wasn’t even intentional, at least not consciously anyways. The blush she experienced the prior afternoon returned. He was slowly breaking her when it came her to attitude that she’d come to have after idolizing Joan Jett, Eddie Munson, it was clear would be the death of her.

“Can it Eddie,” she told him laughing the whole time, “get your ass in there so I can beat you and Byers in a game.” He let her lead the way and Eddie was met with cheers, he set the beer down and laid out the weed for replenishment. Tara told Jonathan to go the table and set up a game for the three of you now that Robin and Vickie had vacated it, opting to sit in the living room and watch movies instead.

-

The game was progressing well, Tara was up by a couple points, ‘How Soon is Now’ was playing quietly, and she was swinging her hips to the beat, while she lined up her shot. Eddie was staring. Hard. Nancy was quietly talking to Jonathan something about wanting to go home so she could get some yearbook work in before Monday. Robin and Vickie were still in the living room. Jonathan told Tara and Eddie that he’d be back soon.

“Is this how you pictured your Saturday night, Munson? Hanging out with us listening to punk, playing pool?” She looked over her shoulder at him, a glazed look in her eyes but her mouth turned up in a smile, she’d never admit it but the air felt electric when it was just the two of them and the high made it better.

He grinned back “well, no, but I’m having fun and the view is amazing which is a bonus.” Eddie’d moved closer to her his hand next to hers on the pool table, his lanky frame towering over her smaller one, especially since she was slightly crouched from planning her next play.

Maybe it was the high, maybe it was the few beers she ingested but the room was hazy, and even though she knew people were in the room next to theirs, they felt immensely alone, and they were never alone in any capacity apart from her buying. She straightened and stood up, in the soft warm lights of lamps and with the smoke swirling around him, Eddie looked entirely different. Ethereal almost. Her eyes darting around his face as she took him in. He was far different from his school persona, and his dealer one as well. Softer, but maybe it was the weed.

Eddie on the other hand was only high, he had to drive home so he hadn’t been drinking but he too was focused intently on her face. Tara was so very different from everyone, even himself, a metalhead. But he knew a lot of it was a mix of rebellion and self expression. Her parents were overbearing and hyper religious. And he’d definitely knew there was a softer side to her that she didn’t show unless she was among friends or alone. In public, she was brash, loud. In private she was kind, funny and cared deeply for her friends no matter what they were going through.

Finally when the game was finished, and she’d rightfully so kicked his ass the two of them made their way to the living room, Robin and Vickie had fallen asleep on the couch leaving only the recliner to sit on. Neither of them had the heart to wake the sleeping couple, Eddie was quietly insisting on sitting on the floor and Tara had to interject, “uh, no, I’m not watching…” she looked over the VHS box that he’d tossed to the ground, “The Texas Chainsaw Massacre in this chair alone, get your denim clad ass up here.”

Shaking his head back and forth in a self argument way he eventually climbed into the seat of the chair and Tara settled half on his thigh and half on the arm of the chair, Eddie swiped his arm behind her and put her wholly in his lap. “Don’t need your ass cheek falling asleep mid-movie.”

The two of them sat in silence, save for a few squeaks or soft ewws when something really gross happened. One particular scene when the teen girl was strung up and Leatherface was coming at her with his chainsaw Tara tucked her head into Eddie’s neck and out of instinct, he pressed his mouth to the top of her head and made sure to tell her when it was over. Butterflies had erupted everywhere in her body at this gesture, she still didn’t know if it was friendly or more. It didn’t really matter at this point.

Instead of lifting her head, she slid it so her face was forward, the movie was almost over and Tara was getting sleepy, the amount of weed she’d smoked and the beer she drank starting to weigh heavy on her senses in earnest. Eyes sliding shut, she fell into a not very restful but deep sleep, Eddie sat awake the whole time until the movie ended and then he too fell asleep, Tara’s body warmth the perfect blanket.

-

Loud voices woke everyone in the living room early, Robin and Vickie disentangled and tossed Tara look, both had their eyebrows raised. The only person still seemingly asleep was Eddie, Tara tried to undo his grip but it was too tight.

“HEY! EDDIES’ VAN IS HERE! Eddie I need help with my character” a voice rocketed through the house as the door opened, it was a one Dustin Henderson, and Munsons eyes flew open.

“Shit. Just a second Henderson, lemme go tame the beast.” He moved to get off the recliner and forgot Tara was minorly tethered to him, pulling her forward and then the two of them collapsing into a pile, Robin cackling, wiping the leftover eyeliner and mascara from her face as the two of them disengaged their limbs. Tara flipped Robin off but laughed along with her, the situation was really funny, only now her ass was bruised from the fall.

She stumbled to the kitchen, eyes bleary with sleep still, “Yo, Jonathan, is there any coff..ee?” Only the person in the kitchen wasn’t her best friend, it was Joyce and Hopper at the kitchen table both sipping their own mugs of dark coffee.

“Jonathan is in his room, but there’s plenty of coffee, dear.” Mrs Byers gave Tara a soft smile and nodded towards the coffee pot. Pouring herself a cup she stretched and cracked her back, the position shed laid in all night had caused her back to be sore, but she was well rested, she did have a good pillow after all.

Hopper cleared his throat “so…how long have you and…” he gestured to where Eddie had gone to fix his hair “…been a thing?” Tara shook her head and explained that they were just friends. “Didn’t seem like just friends the way you were clinging to each other like your life depended on it.” he chuckled as Tara high tailed it out of the kitchen to the respite of the living room where she in turn was grilled for the entire time Eddie was outside talking to the kids about the campaign.

-

Tara took a few days off from everyone, she needed a clear head about what had happened between her and Eddie, did he really like her or was he just being nice to her because she buys weed from him? On the third day, her bedroom phone rang continuously for two hours, but instead she turned up her music and just kept thinking, focusing on the what ifs of a relationship that didn’t technically exist yet, if ever.

Eventually the room darkened as did the outside, her record player turned down low so her parents didn’t come up and confiscate it. “I really need to find my own place, I’m old enough, besides I hate this wall color…” her parents had painted it in ‘soft salmon’ what ever the fuck that meant and they wouldn’t ever allow her to change it.

“I dunno about you but I like it.” Came a voice from behind her, startling Tara and causing her to fall sideways off her bed. “Fuck, shit, are you ok??” It was Eddie he hauled ass through the rest of her window and around her bed to check on her.

“What the actual fuck are you doing in here?! Are you trying to get shot at?! My dad has a rifle in the goddamned linen closet.” Tara was pissed, but it was wavering as he held onto her hand and waist as he helped her to a standing position.

His brow furrowed, “you weren’t answering your phone and I got worried, that maybe something happened or that you were mad. They told me they kinda interrogated you after that morning and that was why you left.” He looked so mad for Tara and she couldn’t stay mad forever. She just kind of nodded and sat down.

“It was part of it, but also, I just needed space, to…think y’know?” His hair shook as he nodded and joined her on the bed. His hand taking hold of hers, letting her know he was there for her. “I’m confused about what happened or I guess didn’t happen and I got into my head about it.”

The two of them sat in the emptiness of sound for a bit, the record ending and dead air was the background noise for a bit, both of them thinking, Eddie was the one who broke the silence first, “look, Tara, I like you ok? And I got mad at them for being so nosy, it was none of their business.” He shuffled closer on the bed, holding onto her hand like a life preserver. His eyes searching hers. Hopeful.

Tara’s mouth was dry, but there was a moment when she thought she was going to throw up, but she knew nothing would come up. This was the moment she’d been waiting for forever. Through all the teasing from her friends, through 5 years of stares. “I like you two Eddie,” Tara’s face a shade of maroon, Eddie’s beaming, neither of them had expected this result. Tara expected to go off to college and have to find someone else to be with.

A few seconds passed, Eddie broke the silence, “so, are you going to kiss me?” His lips turned up in a wry smile. Tara shook her head and leaned forward, closing the gap between them. Pressing a kiss his his full lips, Eddie’s arms found a way around her waist and this felt like home. Her own hands found a way up to his mess of curls, but before they could go any further Jonathan’s voice called out from the door.

“Fina-fucking-lly.” Him and Robin had shut eating grins on their faces, they were beyond happy for their friend. But most importantly they didn’t have to listen to her pining over him in the mornings anymore.

“Shut it.” She retorted, a smile plastered on her face, Eddie’s hidden since he was distracted by her neck but she could feel a smile of his own on her skin.

1986, it turned out was their year.

PLEASE SUPPORT WRITERS ON TUMBLR BY COMMENTING, REBLOGGING AND LIKING; ITS HOW WE FIND NEW READERS!🖤

[xsamuu]

ᵀᴼᴷᵞᴼ ᴿᴱᵛ ᶜᴴᴬᴿᴬᶜᵀᴱᴿˢ ᴬᴺᴰ ᵀᴴᴱᴵᴿ ᴸᴼᵛᴱ ᴸᴬᴺᴳᵁᴬᴳᴱˢ PART 1 :>

ᶜᴴᴬᴿᴬᶜᵀᴱᴿˢ- Mikey, Draken, Inui <33

💌ᴺᴼᵀᴱˢ- This idea was soo fun to do so this will be a multiple part kind of thing. Tysmmm @trixminx for writing this with me I had so much fun and can’t wait to start part 2 💕💕 (we did this on google docs and there are bloopers of us just being stupid yall lemme know if ya wanna see those too oke oke baiiii)

ᵂᴬᴿᴺᴵᴺᴳˢ- None loves ���💕

Sano Manjiro (Mikey) ➤ Words of Affirmation

Mikey loves everything about you

You’re his home, his protector, the love and light of his life

He just can’t say it

He tries so hard as well </3

Probably has a plethora of nicknames and petnames for you which are the most unheard of like ‘my silk pillowcase’ or ‘ my lil lampshade’ 🥺

‘I think you look like a sexy motorcycle VROOM VROOM’

He tries to be cute and says ‘UwU no one else could come up with half the names I come up with sweets’ but gets mad when he hears Takamichi stole a name for Hina >:( Originality: lost.

Really appreciates a s/o who can communicate their feeling properly

Yall have a little self day talk every month on a Friday or Saturday with lots of snacks and good times after

He likes making his own little language with you even though it makes no sense to anyone but him.

Just tell him he’s pretty and special and how much you need him <3

Overall he cares so so much that there isn’t a normal way for him to say it, ‘A simple love you would be boring, right pretty’ -w-

Ryuguji Ken (Draken) ➤ Acts of Service

At his smol smol age this guy was taking care of mikey, all he knows is service -free up draken man 😔-

He likes to give, he’s a giver ok!!

Although he likes feeling appreciated and being with someone who tries just as much as he does

That’s his bread and butter 😌

It’s hard for him to express his feelings through words so why not use actions to show you his love ❤️

In truth it’s the small things that help nurture his infatuation with you tbh.

You offer to help out at the shop, run a bath for him when he’s tired or sick those lil domestic things UvU

‘Babe did you put my phone on charge before you left x?’

‘Yeah you fell asleep watching Netflix again xx’

Sometimes when both of you are way too tired your both still trying to help the other ‘ lemme make you something to eat real qui-‘ ‘no it’s fine I’m running you a bat-‘ ‘that’s kind and all but I’ve laid out the massage kit and al-‘ you too will keep going on till you both agree to jump in the bath and eat grapes.

Inui Seishu ➤ physical Touch/ Quality Time

Lil meow meow Inui ain’t the loudest in the bunch but you need to remember to give lil meow meow his daily kisses and hugs or he might wilt

This boy is so touched starved please 😫

He loves when you trace over his scar while giving little butterfly kisses and gush about how pretty he is ✨

Ideally a perfect Saturday night for you two is you hands in his hair, him laying in between your legs on tiktok

THIS BOY AIN'T SHY DON'T LET HIM FOOL YOU HE LIVES FOR DRAMA. LOVE AND HIPHOP, KEEPING UP WITH THE KARDASHIANS, RUPAUL YOU NAME IT, HE’LL BE THERE FACE MASK LAID AND ROBE WRAPPED

HE CAN GOSSIP FOR GOD ABOVE AND WILL RIP YOUR DOG AND SISTER APART

He is so easily influenced too sometimes when you come over when it gets quiet and he’s just doing something you’ll hear a lil ‘misssss vangieeee’ ‘MISSSSS VANGIEEEEE’ but he can and will deny it with his life 🌚

‘BABE OH MY GOD THEY SENT LAGANGA HOME HURRY’

‘NO SHE WAS THE HYPE OF THE SEASON!! PAUSE IT IM STILL PISSING’

He loves how he can be himself around you and he hopes you feel the same— spoiler alert you do <33

In the comfort of your home y’all are secretly talking about everyone and their mums it’s a real problem but it’s cute

Live, laugh and loving in heels all day you and lil meow meow try on drag looks on each other, no one said they were good but they were enough for you two

When you’ve been gone for so long and forget to give him his daily lil kiss and cuddle he’s hang around like a cat waiting for food, rolling around and sticking his head in your face until you realize what he wants

‘awww babe you just wanted a hug, why didn’t you say so ☺️’

2022 ©ᴬᴸᴸ ᵂᴼᴿᴷˢ ᴮᴱᴸᴼᴺᴳ ᵀᴼ @xsamuu ᴰᴼ ᴺᴼᵀ ᵀᴿᴬᴺˢᴸᴬᵀᴱ, ᴾᴸᴬᴳᴱᴿᴵᶻᴱ, ᶜᴼᴾᵞ ᴼᴿ ᵁᴾᴸᴼᴬᴰ ᴼᴺ ᵀᵁᴹᴮᴸᴿ ᴼᴿ ᴬᴺᵞ ᴼᵀᴴᴱᴿ ˢᴼᶜᴵᴬᴸ ᴹᴱᴰᴵᴬ

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

hiiiii! 💕💕💕 I love your writing so much! Just read all your Jay White stuff. Omg. Soooo I wasn’t aware until recently Jay is 29. I was wondering if you may write a fic where Jay meets and dominates a slightly older girl. Maybe she makes a joke about being a bit older and he teases her saying he can still take charge and make her call him daddy? 💦

Hi, darling 💕 Aww, thank you so much 🥺🥰

Ever since I received this (ages ago) I debated what to write and then *in the middle of one of my many sleep deprived brainstorms* I came up with: AU!Student Jay White. So yeah, I hope you enjoy this 😂

Tag: @theworldofotps , @writtingrose , @letsgivethisonemoreshot , @aerynscrichton , @daddyhausen , @damnnhausen , @starwithaheart , @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin , @sophiewolfheart-blog , @sultryfandoms , @new-zealand-chic , @crowleysqueenofhell , @thealliasylum , @cuzimacomedian , @thebestintheworld , @josiewrites , @seeingstarks , @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch

Being a psychology teacher for the International Relation students at Brown University was part of your daily routine for four years now

You loved the job and was considered one of the best teachers the university had. The dream job soon became a living nightmare the minute Mr. White became one of your students.

He had a sharp mind and was able to pick up details that would go by unnoticed to other students.

He could be considered one of your most dedicated and favorite students, if it wasn’t for one little thing: his constant flirting.

Now, you see, although it wasn’t ethical by any means, it was still fun. He and his double entendre jokes and comments were a nice distraction and were meant to be harmless to you, if it wasn’t for your little crush on him.

You constantly rolled your eyes at how stupid you looked every time he stayed behind to talk to you after class. Yes, it was fun and made you feel like the nerdy teenager crushing over the hot quarterback, but this had to stop now before you end up getting hurt or even worse: fired!

“Please everyone, don’t forget that the deadline for your lab report is just until next Friday. If you have any questions in regards to your report, I’ll be answering them after classes until Thursday evening. Thank you”

The students began to leave class and a few stopped by your desk to clear up some doubts. You began to gather your belongings when your eyes spotted Jay still sitting on his chair.

“Mr. White, is there anything I can help you with?”

“Yeah” His grayish blue eyes sparkled with mischief “There is actually”. Jay stood up from his chair and walked towards your desk, he held his phone on his left hand and you slid your glasses on, naively thinking you were going to see a note about the class on the screen.

You cackled when you saw his contacts page open with your picture under the name “Sexy Future Wifey 👅” with the number space left blank. “I’d like you to help me to find your number, you see, I forgot where I wrote it down”

“I never gave you my number, Mr. White. That would be highly inappropriate and unethical” The amused laugh that left your lips only served as a fuel for him to keep going.

“Oh, really? Well, good thing we can solve that problem right now” He smirked “Just type it in there and we won’t have to worry about me not having your number anymore”.

“Look, Mr. White. I’ll be honest with you, as much as this back and forth thing is both flattering and amusing, we should stop before it gets worse. Let’s remind ourselves that I’m your teacher and you’re my student and let’s keep things as they are in order to avoid any further complications to the both of us, okay?”

“But you don’t mean that, do you?” Jay closed the distance between you, his semi hard cock pressed against your navel as his lips roamed on top of yours “No, you don’t. I know you have the hots for me as much as I do for you, honeybee”

“Mr. White, I already asked you to please stop calling me that-“

“You may be my teacher, but I can bet your sweet ass there are a lot of things that you can learn from me, baby” Jay’s hands caressed your hips through the black dress pants “I can teach you a lot of fun little things” His teeth teased your bottom lip, making you gasp softly.

“What could a boy like you teach a woman like me?”

“Age is not everything, my little bee. You see, there are a lot of things a boy like me can teach a woman like you” His fingers brushed under your breasts making your nipples harden under his touch “I may be younger, baby, but I can still make you call me daddy over and over and over again”

“Is that so?” Your tongue darted out to lick your lips and the tip traced the outline of his bottom lip.

“Don’t believe me?” He grinned “Let me prove it to you. A free test-drive back at my place, and if you don’t approve the performance then I’ll leave you be” Jay’s hands moved back to your ass, grabbing two handfuls of the supple meat before whispering “But if you do decide to keep the equipment, oh well” The gray orbs had a dark cloud of lust over them, the grip on your backside was so strong that it was almost too painful “Then, we’ll see how much the big girl can learn from this little boy”