#this whole experiment was an emotional mess for me

[sadstrever]

i’m still 114lbs. i feel sick. yesterday was an awful day, i came home and had an out of body chew and spit session. i wish there was more research on this part of ed’s, or just more people who talked about it because i can’t be alone in this. i refuse to believe i’m the only sick person who does disgusting shit like this. anyways the reason why i call it an out of body experience is because it’s almost like binging-just without all the swallowing of food. i came home and immediately started doing it and filled up 1 and 1/2 2 liter bottles with food. i spent 5 hours doing this without even realizing and pretty much emptied out my whole families fridge. the guilt i felt afterwards was worse than a binge in my opinion. not only did i totally waste SO MUCH food, make a huge mess, ended up with disgusting bottles of mush in my room, i also have to face the consequences of my family coming home to an empty fridge. but when they got home they were happy that i “ate.” god i’m such a fucking piece of shit.

anyways after all that i took 4 laxatives to try and get the guilt of wasting the food out of me. i woke up in the morning today in terrible pain but still had to go to class, cuz what am i supposed to tell my parents? “yeah i haven’t eaten in almost a month and basically just threw all the food we have out in the trash and i also took 4 laxatives, can i please stay home tehe?” so i went to 1 class and ended up leaving because the pain was so excruciating. straight from class i went to the gym and somehow burnt 900 calories because i guess that’s what guilt does to me. i had to take the bus 2 hours home afterwards(bus delays and i went to a new further gym location this time), high out of my mind. i’m home now and my stomach hurts but the laxatives finally did their job. i don’t want to keep doing this. 4 years ago i said i’d recover and then i didn’t. since then i’ve forgotten about recovery (with the exception of a few random moments here and there that i block out immediately), i am so used to living in this fucking misery that i didn’t realize how abnormal my reality is. i don’t want to be a bad person anymore. but i can’t stop lol.

this is what bothers me about the girls who romanticize this disorder SO MUCH, when much of the time they haven’t realized how difficult it can become. i know i’ve done this, even now sometimes as a coping mechanism. but man, i’m sick of it.

i have a friend who writes poetry and she wrote a poem about eating disorders that make me so fucking angry. the thing is, i’ve known her for years and she’s always had the best relationship with food out of most of the people i know. she’s naturally pretty thin(not too thin but normal) and she’s very open about her struggles. i know every single one of her stories, i know she’s diagnosed with adhd. that’s HER disorder, that i don’t understand so i DONT write fucking POETRY about it. a few months ago she kind of forced me into opening up about my eating disorder. after i did, suddenly she started writing these stories about her eating disorder-very very very suspiciously similar to mine. i obviously didn’t tell her everything but i told her about how long this has been going on and just my emotions about it. seeing her start to adapt my fucking disorder into her poetry disgusted me. she glamorized the fuck out of it and made me feel so stupid for ever opening up about it. she’s naturally skinny so she got a bunch of support from our friend group from it and i’m just upset man. i’m sick of living in misery while other people can use the idea of living in pain for attention.

i promised my best friend that in 3 weeks i’ll go back to therapy and try my best to recover. it’s not true. man it’s never fucking true. it’s never fucking over. unlike ms.deep-poetry-girl i can’t just fucking write this and log off and then eat a good warm meal and talk to my parents without them mentioning my body. i can’t wake up tomorrow morning and hug them without worrying that they’re gonna feel my bones. i can’t wear shorts anymore without people noticing the bruises. i can’t go to school and keep my focus because i have nothing to feed my brain. i can’t let anyone get close because soon enough they’ll be just like YOU. OR they’ll hate me for not wanting to get better. i can’t love myself like you do because of the disgusting things i do each day. i can’t wake up thinner and suddenly stop hating myself. FUCK YOUUUUUUUU GOD IM SO SICK OF IT GOD. whatever im done. just sick and tired.

[miriamundertale]

Azerothian Growing Pains

or: guide to playing backstab rogue solo in classic wow!!!!

this one is a huge mess please dont feel bad if you dont read it

when i was 9 years old, my dad at some point decided to let me get into playing a game he was playing again, world of warcraft. this wasn't the first time i had played, during the first few months, before the release of the infamous war effort, my dad had done similar and created an account for me to play on; but since the last time any attempts were made i was more or less kept around as a guild mascot, I had a lot more freedom given. i could play any race on the same faction, any class, and the logical choice was to copy my dad somewhat and choose undead, then be a little different and copy his alt's class of rogue. a few times of modifying the randomly generated names left me with Jalgun, a rogue who lives forever in infamy among my friends for his very silly name. I remember hitting level 15, and quickly abandoning silverpine for the barrens, a third death at the son of arugal steeling my resolve to find a source of comedy in barrens chat, barely understanding what made it funny or why it became so well known. I remember stonetalon, bereft of players, purely defined by a giant water wheel that now punctuates the whole zone for me. a continual testing of western plaguelands, running over to see if the plagued bears there were still level skull. at 40, i got 60 gold from my dad to cover the amount i was missing to unlock my first mount, and wound up spending the next few weeks just exploring around. at some point, a guildie and friend of my dad found me out in the world, and took me to razorfen downs to run multiple times for two coldrage daggers, stating how good they were in pvp and they'd be a great grab. I got one fairly quickly, but the second dagger never dropped. Jalgun's last moments before being lost for a decade were simple, my first alterac valley. nothing big or grand, nothing that stuck in my head like the waterfall, or coldrage dagger. I got off, parked in lights hope chapel, and then we were no longer playing wow.

when I was 21, I decided to get into a game that i was playing again, one that I had come back to on my own in an expansion themed similarly to the one i had last seriously played, Legion. the main difference this time being a focus on the fun of experiencing something i did as a kid at an age where i could really process it, really understand the reason why hooks from it still dug into me. why i could still picture that water wheel clearly even then. processing a different angle and view of myself at the time, i went drastically different, alliance, choosing paladin because of the comedy of self inflicted torment i saw in leveling a class others saw as miserable for my first max level character, dwarf not just to avoid the boring answer of human, but as another little joke about the existence of dwarf female characters not existing. for the first time in anything, I named a character after myself. I can't say there's anything especially deeply dug into my psyche from the leveling process the way that jalgun did, but I do remember my genius idea after getting a world blue (random drop rare item, a lot rarer than your average item but not the rarest tier of random drop. "world" drop items are notable in the fact that they are all bind on equip and often sell very well on the auction house due to their rarity.) that gave bonus damage against demons to completely rebuild around farming a few of the demons in aszhara for reliable felcloth to make some money, as well as sneakily getting to shatterspear village to farm with very little contest from other people. I think what mostly sticks into my head with Miriam is the time I spent raiding, the fun I had in the comedy that the meta of holy paladin for healing was just to crit as much as possible so you never truly spent a drop of mana healing. after a few months, the guild I was in for raiding splintered, and rather than search elsewhere I turned to another character who's name I had snagged at the same time as Miriam.

I think around when I started the journey of leveling jalgun again is when the fact that the idea of a meta had really sunk into my brain was first realized by me. nothing huge specifically, but remembering my dad talking about his own rogue in original burning crusade, saying "people still really don't realize how strong combat is, they spend about 10 seconds wondering why the fuck a rogue with maces does that much damage before they realize they're dead" which in 2019 turned out weirdly prescient. the classic ideas of dagger rogues were largely mediocre compared to deep down the combat tree, especially for leveling. I of course, still thriving on the high of discovering my own contrarian spirit, immediately veered into not just a bit on playing weaker, but also somewhat a statement of challenge to the idea of daggerless rogue, and committed to my own personal rogue dagger build.

one of the things that you come to learn as you play against a defined "meta" of any kind isn't that things become the most widely adopted due to being the absolute strongest, or being the intended or best way. they become widely adopted due to ease. a strategy may be much stronger than another, but if the other strategy is just a few button presses with no potential for misstep, it will almost never win over the more reliable one. combat rogue for leveling, more than anything else, is consistent. you gain higher hit chance from talents and miss less, you need less positional work to achieve damage, and you literally just need three buttons for your core rotation most of the time. even if similar in effort, assassination or subtlety would never be anywhere near as consistent.

while locked by requiring a dagger in the main hand, ambush has an insanely high damage multiplier of 250% of base weapon damage plus a decently high base number. on top of that, there's' two total talents that give it up to a massive 85% crit chance, as well as one that just naturally gives you another 5%, meaning you only need to get 10% from gear to guarantee ambush crits. in world of warcraft, there are two main ways a melee character does damage. colloquially, they're referred to as yellow hits and white hits, named after the color of the text. yellow is damage from spells cast, ones like ambush or backstab, and white is the normal basic attacks your character passively does. while they compose a decent amount of the damage dealt, white hits normally don't have any specific mechanical skill or interesting things aside from some specific positional timing to avoid taking damage if you know how to kite with your auto attacks. however, a fascinating but unknown mechanic of white hits is while they normally decide if they crit or not off of their own calculations rather than ones tied to the spells cast, if you start combat with a spell the first white hit from each weapon uses that spells crit rate rather than your normal crit rate. what does that all mean? well, lets say you had a spell with a 100% crit rate while your normal crit rate is 10%, and you started combat by using it. rather than calculating if they crit off of that 10%, they instead calculate off of the 100%, meaning you don't just do ambush damage plus weapon damage, you do critical damage for both, leading to a ratio of 500% weapon damage plus 200% weapon damage plus a flat amount. if you keep your dagger as up to date in level as you can, ambush will oneshot mobs 98% of the time until around level 45.

I love learning mechanics of games. I love the act of finding little bits and weird parts, and seeing how they wind up interacting. every time i played them, the joy of a deckbuilder card game was purely in the deckbuilding rather than the gameplay itself. the issue I would always run up to in it was that a good percentage of the playerbase does not view that as especially fun or part of it, and works through finding prebuilt ones by experts. when i was younger, i would get upset over it, feeling like there was some sort of self harm in cutting out the part of the game I saw most fun. nowadays i see it as just how it is, though being someone who isn't an expect it's hard to really compete against stuff like that which winds up souring me on it a lot, which is something i need to work on.

you might notice that this guide would only work until 45, and the more keen wow players would know ambush isn't unlocked until level 18. what does one do in those scenarios, when you're still trying to gain the powerhouse of your build, or when the gimmick seems to die out? well, there is a similar spell to ambush that deals solid damage and benefits from a few of the same talents that ambush does, backstab. backstab, like ambush, is conditional in being positioned behind a target. early on, it can be treated like a pseudo ambush to open, giving you a reliable bit of early damage, but seems dead in the water the second that the mob is facing you. thankfully, around the same time you also get a spell called gouge, which gives you a stun that lasts for a few seconds, but breaks when they receive damage and turns your basic attack off. it gives you more than enough time to walk behind the enemy and land another backstab, and then you just wait for the cooldown to finish on gouge to repeat the process until the enemy is dead. interestingly, a lesser known bug is that for some unknowable reason, mobs will sometimes turn to face another direction, which almost always seems to be enough to get their back into you, making backstabbing easier.

a few years back, after some insanely kind help from a blizzard cs person (who almost certainly doesn't work there anymore and deserved better than that company anyways) i got access back to Jalgun. reset back into undercity, level 52, and I felt a conflict begin inside me that I still wrestle with today. do i play Jalgun? do I preserve him? what should I do with one of the few childhood things I can reliably only have fond memories for? after a few weeks, the decision I finally settled on is that 10 year old me would have kept playing him, so it'd be unfair to not do the same. I gingerly comb through Jalgun's Inventory, his equipped items, his bank, and excise everything that is sentimental or has "rare" value; open the mail to get the bags and gold I had sent over from a main, and rush to archiving as much as I can. laying gear out like an outline, blazewind breastplate centered, fleshhide shoulders secured to the side, topped off by ebon mask. Coldrage Dagger was in his main hand.

as expected with a build that relies on esoteric game mechanics, there are limitations you have to follow. the first is that you cannot use any poisons that do damage over time, and instead largely rely on instant poison if you use poisons at all. second, and probably weirder, isn't just the fact that you have to use a dagger in your main hand for your abilities, but the fact that None of those abilities care about your offhand. while normally coordinating weapons of the same type is good for damage and optimization, that isn't always the case for backstab rogue. your offhand is entirely a statstick. hell, an item that just goes into your offhand and does not do damage itself is as effective if the stats are good enough.

when I was 26, I got bored one day. i opened season of discovery, a temporary wow server type set up by blizzard which has you explore the world itself for ways to augment and change your playstyle. during the original launch, I thought there would be some interest in me for playing it, so I wound up making a character that day. not a rogue, but a priest. due to heavy congestion in the undead (did you think i chose another race?) starting zone, I decided the real best option was instead to make the trek to the tauren starting zone, ascertaining that if anywhere was likely to be empty, it would be the arguably least played race's starting area. my priest made it all the way, and after a few minutes i decided it wasn't clicking and logged off. this most recent time, however, I had to stick to the bit fully. the priest boring me as an idea, I once again do the normal thing for me at this rate and make an undead rogue. her name isn't jalgun.

when levelling solo, it's basically impossible to avoid downtime in classic wow. at best, you need to stop for a few to drink water after a few pulls to regenerate your mana. solo rogues can have some rough downtime from time to time, and while it's not as bad as other classes, it can be frustrating while you have a core mechanic of the build centered around a buff that can time out if you eat too long. on top of that, classic can be very costly, in game. the notable milestones of costliness being level 40 and 60, where you get your normal speed and swift speed mount respectively. thankfully, rogue's have a fairly unique way to get around those both, and it all comes from one source: pickpocketing. while arguably a flavor ability more than anything else, pick pocket can have some incredible return on investment. reagents for spells like vanish or blind can be found in lockboxes you pickpocket, 4-5 silver a mob can be in their pockets, and they regularly carry food or potions with them. while they can be sold, being able to treat potions like rpg consumables much more readily while levelling drastically improves the flow of combat.

whenever I take long breaks from wow, I wind up essentially putting my characters on holiday in certain places. for my warlock, he goes to the pandaria farm. my priest goes to the original undead starting zone, and jalgun, of course, goes to that water wheel; somehow untouched after the cataclysm, after nearly 20 years of existing, just as constant as it is in my mind. As time goes on, the core of the game changes, classic goes from solved on paper to solved in practice to desperately optimized and treated like a perfectly maintained box and set of rules to play, minds consumed by a need to do their childhood right, then to play the spreadsheet right. the world that they loved at best a backdrop for trying to perfect numbers; to be the best out of 40 people in raids where you realistically need 15-20 competent people to make it work. when I play, I see the water wheel. I see razorfen kraul, I hear the clanging, tempoless, brill inn's music, my eyes sting from the overwhelming orange coming off of durotar. but now, in this play through, I've realized I've been seeing more than that. I see the wowhead page I pulled up to find the best daggers, my map shows me the levels each zone recommends, 5 funny little bars on the top left of my screen tell me who's doing the best at the numbers part of the game, and while i do find victory when my silly setup remains at the top despite being off meta, the focus on those numbers haunt me. every time I play, there's more added to World of Warcraft, and I start to barely notice the weird jank from clashing addons. I spend time hoping for someone to invite me to a dungeon, as an escape from the normal routine, dealing with people frustrated how unoptimized things are in a game twice the age of their children. every time, I'm afraid I'll stop seeing that water wheel.

I might just have to hope Jalgun keeps seeing it for me.

[connanro]

the greatest tragedy of my life is that i do not (and likely will not ever) have an anglo-cath girlfriend

[designernishiki]

today on tumblr user designernishiki’s autistic-with-a-special-interest-in-psychology deep dives: dissecting the hell out of kiryu/nishiki’s childhoods and kazama’s parenting (or lack thereof) and how it all relates to their emotional development (or lack thereof). they will never be safe from my psychoanalyses

[thespoonisvictory]

rosamund wants to experience more of life so badly in a way that really gets to me :((

[youremyonlyhope]

Stupidly I decided to watch this video just now.

Today would have been my Grandma's birthday, but we lost her last fall and then my Nanna in the winter.

I did not think that a commentary video on Rugrats would make me uncontrollably sob. But I blocked out how sad the Mother's Day episode was. And combining it with Grandma's birthday...

I've spent the last 10 minutes or so doubled over crying.

[bmpmp3]

now that virvox has basically handed me my own personal slightly clunky boyband with the voicevox humming update to play with i now fully understand the urge for anime idol companies to give all the vocal lines to one specific character. i want to put my specialest little guy of all time (takehiro) in like every part LOL

[coffeecatcraze]

The solo lines during the hotel rebuild in Finale are actually so fucking impactful though.

Niffty: "to build a hotel" - Niffty is the person brought in to maintain what was there; now she's actively working to build something new for all of them. She's not looking at the rubble and seeing a mess that needs to be cleaned up. She's looking at it and seeing something to create with her friends.

Angel Dust: "start with foundation" - Angel was the hotel's first patron; he was really the foundation of it all. Angel's progress is what's been keeping Charlie's dream steady this whole time. Watching him grow has been reassuring her that she's doing something right.

Lucifer: "remedial creation" - Lucifer, who lost faith in humanity after seeing what they did with free will, is remembering the hope he had for them back in Eden because his daughter taught him the potential he saw so long ago.

Charlie: "make the best of what's in ruins" - She's acknowledging that where she saw destruction and failure right after the battle, there's still hope. She's looking at everything that's happened, the successes and failures, and using it to build something better based on her experiences instead of giving up, starting over, or just picking up where she left off.

Vaggie: "new coat of paint" - Paint isn't just decoration. It's the first thing people tend to notice, because it's color. The right or wrong color can make a huge difference in people's opinions. Structure is good practically, but a bright appearance is what draws people in, NOT what's on the inside of the building. As far as making this hotel, Charlie's dream, come true, that ability to draw people in is incredibly important; and Vaggie's been trying her hardest to make that dream come true from the very start. And, just like Charlie, she's acknowledging that a little change is necessary to make this better by learning from what went right and wrong before.

Husk: "new lights across the marquee" - Husk was the least enthusiastic about all this in the beginning. He was only there because Alastor forced him to be. Now that he's seen the hotel actually helping people (Angel being the prime example), he sees it as a place that can give hope and light.

And as a bonus, because it's me so of course I have to...

Charlie + Vaggie: "we're gonna do this, you and me" - Charlie and Vaggie are the ones who started it all. Charlie had a dream and Vaggie was the only one who believed in her. In the beginning, it was just them against all odds; and it's still the two of them swearing to stay by each other no matter what. This line specifically is so incredibly emotional in its depth, and I adore it.

This song went so hard with its rebuild lines AND the Chaggie one, and I just think that's amazing.

[jarofstyles]

Haze

Hi bestie babes, here is a best-friends-to-best-friends-with-benefits piece! I am unsure if I'm doing a second part but if I did it'll be later on down the line.

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WC- 8k

warnings- use of marijuana, friends with benefits, biting, daddy kink, soft Dom H hehe

“H? Do you really think I’m pretty?” Y/N’s voice was slightly slurred, a mix of both tired and high as a kite from the joint they’d finished just a bit ago. The cool air flowed in from the window they’d cracked in order for her landlord not to get a call to complain, but she welcomed the chill. She always got a bit hot in her skin when the high hit her. “Don’t lie to me. Give it to me straight.

She loved smoking, sure, but she hated how it made her mind think about things she had purposely been putting off. Like her awful fucking dating life and how stupidly lonely she was.

Harry sat next to her on the sofa, his legs spread in an obnoxious manspread, his fingers messing with the Rubik’s cube. It wasn’t uncommon for them to smoke together- he was her best friend- but she wanted his opinion. The poor man was going to be subject to her insecurity.

Her string of bad dating experiences lately had made it hard to believe it wasn’t a her problem.

"Pretty? Babe, you're beautiful. Come off it." he mumbled, eyes still on the puzzle game. He was in that fluid mindset, neither here nor there. His reassurance felt nice but at the same time, a little vague. Her face contorted in a frown as she looked over at him. He was still baked, so she got it, but still. A little more would be nice.

“You have to say that. You’re my best friend. Tell me honestly, H. What is.. what is wrong with me? Because I don’t know how someone can go on so many bad dates and it not be a them problem.” It had been plaguing her the whole time and harshing the high. The words needed to come out. “I’m the common denominator.”

Finally, he put the Rubik's cube down and turned to face her fully, his gaze locked on hers. Sure, he was dazed from the weed, but he wanted to be sincere with her once he had heard how she had actually been a bit torn up from it. As hard as she tried, it wasn’t easy for her to hide her emotions from him. Even high Harry could see past the playful quips she had made lately. It had only been a matter of time before she had asked him about it and in his opinion, it was bullshit. There was nothing wrong with her at all. Y/N was amazing, but it was only natural to become a little insecure when someone had the string of bad luck like she had.

"Y/N, there's absolutely nothing wrong with you. I'm being completely honest with you, I swear. It's not you, it's them.” He winced knowing how cheesy it sounded but it couldn’t really be helped at the moment. “You're a fuckin’ amazing, smart, beautiful, funny, talented, kind person... I could list off all your good qualities cause there’s loads of ‘em, but m’high and can't think straight enough right now t’give you the fancier words like… exuberant? Pretty sure that one’s right ."

Y/N let out a little laugh. She could hear it in the low tone of his voice and how it seemed to take him longer than normal to say things when he was stoned and trying his absolute hardest to get that out, but it was a little cute. Too bad it wasn’t enough to get her out of her wallowing.

“Then I’m doomed.” She groaned, sinking into the couch. Her hands came up to cover her face, a tired sound leaving her as she tried to reset. “Dude, do you know how entirely and overwhelmingly exhausting it is? And don’t you dare call me dramatic.” Her eye peeped up at him before she fell back into a huff. “I know you get sex on tap but for the rest of us normal folks, it’s like a war zone out there.”

Harry snickefed at her little quip as he watched her sink into the couch. Letting out a sigh as he really thought about it though, a flicker of understanding crossing his face. "I understand how you feel, trust me. It's not easy for anyone. Although I have to admit, I can't exactly relate to your dating struggles, not really. I just happen to be lucky enough to have a very dedicated fanbase."

He was joking but… not really. He always teased her about this. The women who tended to hang out around the garage or try to get near him after hours to ride him in the cars that he just fixed… It wasn't hard for him to get what he wanted. Being good looking, tattooed, solid and single, it got you a lot of places, and a lot of ass. If only she could relate.

“Yeah, yeah. Slut.” She grumbled lightheartedly, kicking her foot against his thigh. It wasn’t fair it was as toned as it was. “You’re a mechanic and you’ve got all the rich soccer moms throwing themselves at you for a romp in the backseat while their husbands are at work. That’s nice and all, but the dating pool for us commoners is abysmal at best.”

Shooting him a glare, she grabbed the bag of goldfish shaped crackers and popped some into her mouth. “At this point I’d be fine with a friends-with-benefits sorta thing- but god damn it, I just want someone to love me at some point.” There was a moment of silence before she cleared her throat. They didn’t really discuss their sex lives and stuff often so she took his silence as one of not knowing what to say- which was fair. She was sorta dumping this all on him. In the grand scheme of things it wasn’t that insane. Everyone went through shit like this. “Sorry. I don’t mean to actually be dramatic this time.”

Harry shook his head at her remark, giving her a reassuring smile that had his eyes crinkling at the corners. He locked his gaze on her face as he listened to her speak, his expression softening with understanding instead of the smug joking he was giving off before. "Hey, s’alright babe. You're not being dramatic. It's how you feel, and I understand that. Everyone deserves love, and I have no doubt you'll find it."

He paused for a moment, considering his next words carefully. When he spoke again, his voice low and sincere as he knocked his hand against her thigh to get her to look at him.

"Y/N... can I ask you somethin’? And don’t make it weird.” He warned, making her unsure what the hell he could be asking.

Brushing the hair out of her eyes, she turned to look back at him with a questioning look on her face. “Sure. What’s up?”

Harry seemed to hesitate for a moment, unsure whether he should ask or not. It would most definitely change their dynamic if she was offended or freaked out by it, but regardless he felt like it it was something he knew he had to ask. He shifted on the couch, turning to face her fully, taking a deep breath and letting his gaze lock on hers before speaking.

"Y’know how you were saying how you're open to a friends with benefits thing? And how you're tired of being alone?"

“Yeah…. I literally said it like, two second ago.” She replied, voice slow and drawn out. She knew she was foggy, but damn. Of course she didn’t want to draw conclusions but she had to wonder why he would be bringing that up again. Her heart beat a little harder as she narrowed her eyes at him. “Why?”

His gaze remained steady on hers, his expression unreadable. He took a moment before speaking again, his voice low and slightly hoarse. Of course he wanted to be careful with his words, in the off chance this could offend her but he knew that he’d kick himself for not asking if he avoided it. He took a deep breath before asking the question.

"I was wondering... if you'd be interested in having an arrangement like that... with me."

Blinking rapidly, she had to be sure she wasn’t just hearing things. Usually she wasn’t the type to have hallucinations when high, but she didn’t know if he would ever actually suggest that. “Uh.. can you repeat that?”

Harry smiled softly as he saw her surprise. He knew it was a big ask, but he was committed to the idea now.

Leaning forward, his voice was smooth and deliberate as he repeated his question, this time with more confidence considering she hadn’t completely looked disgusted at the idea.

"I was asking if you'd be interested in having a friend's with benefits arrangement with me. No strings attached, just a... way to fulfill certain needs without the commitment. What would you say to something like that?"

“Yeah, that’s what I thought you said.” The nod was casual, as if that hadn’t just completely freaked her out. Not in a bad way! But in a…. What-the-fuck-my-best-friend-just-asked-me to-casually-hook-up-on-the-regular, sort of way.

“Uh… I’m not saying no, but I have to ask why you’d suggest that? I didn’t think you were attracted to me in the slightest.” It had completely come out of left field. The intent behind complaining wasn’t for him to offer but to get genuine advice from him considering he never seemed to struggle in the dating department.

"Who the hell said I wasn't attracted to you? I’ve always thought you were stunning.” It wasn’t supposed to come off defensively but he had to wonder in the moment if maybe it did. Harry had never once thought of her as anything but mind blowingly gorgeous.

“Okay, but you have to say that. You’re my best friend, like I said before. I just….” Hesitance grew on her face, looking over his own for any sign of joking. If he was, her ego really couldn’t handle another blow. “I really don’t want to be a pity fuck. And I also don’t want to like… no offense to you, I don’t want to sleep with someone who isn’t exclusive with me? Not like in the dating sense but like, I’d ask you not to sleep with anyone else for safety and I don’t know how you’d feel about that.” Maybe she was rambling but thoughts were running rampant in her already overcrowded brain. Asking him not to fuck anyone else felt like an overstep for some reason.

As she spoke, Harry nodded along, listening intently. He understood her hesitation and appreciated the honesty; it was one of the things he had always loved about her- But he certainly didn't want her to feel like a “pity-fuck” either. That was the furthest thing she could be. He could respect her wanting a certain degree of exclusivity, especially for safety. He knew he was a bit of a whore and he wasn’t ashamed of it, but he had full ability and sometimes the wish to be monogamous- more than he expressed. Granted, if it were anyone else he’d probably feel a little suffocated in an ask like that but… It didn’t sound so bad when it came to Y/N.

"I get it," he said, nodding in agreement. Reaching out and placing a hand on her knee, his touch warm and gentle, he tried his best to reassure her. "I wouldn't suggest it if I didn't find you attractive, Y/N. It's not about pity, it's about wanting a connection with someone I know and trust. And it’s not like it isn’t a convenience for me, too. No awkward leaving afterward, no like… ‘here I’ll get you a cab’ or saying no to a sleepover. We’ve slept in the same bed loads of times and you know I love a cuddle..”

Sharpening her gaze on him, she tilted her head. “Is this because you wanna do some crazy kinky stuff? Cause I’m open but I dunno how crazy I’ll get.” She was kind of kidding…. But kinda not. There were her own things she wanted to explore, but she didn’t want to be a lab rat.

Harry's eyebrows raised at her question, slightly taken aback. He couldn't help but laugh lightly at her tone, but there was also a hint of genuine interest in his reply.

"You really think I'm into kink, huh? Some sort of freak in the sheets?” Wiggling his brows, he teased her. It wasn’t as if it wasn’t obvious that he was a bit of a frequent fucker, but he didn’t have much shame in that. It wasn’t a kiss and tell sort of situation, but he wasn’t shy about letting her know he’d had a lovely night the day prior when need be. “Well, maybe. But no, that's not the only reason..." He let out a breath, a smirk on his lips. "But I'd loveeee to find out what you'd be open to, if we did this."

“Nope, you first, casanova.” She bounced in her seat, getting closer. Her nosy tendencies took precedence over everything else, it appeared. Getting to know more about him that was was enticing and she couldn’t hold herself back. “What's the crazy stuff you’re into? C’mon, we never talk about this stuff.”

Harry was open about the fact he had a healthy supply of offers and hookups but she had stopped him a few times from giving details. Mostly for her sake, so she didn’t see him as some sort of deviant- even if he was. Now, though, knowing she was potentially someone who could experience said things? Her curiosity was killing the cat. Her cat. Metaphorically speaking.

The man’s lips curled into a small smile as he saw her eager expression. He leaned back on the sofa, his arm stretched out behind her. He was throughly enjoying her nosiness- maybe for the first time- considering it gave him the perfect opportunity to tease her a bit more. "Oh, where do I even start... I have quite a few kinks, darling. But I have a feeling you'd like to hear about a certain one..."

“Okay… so tell me.” She rolled her hand to motion to him to continue. Patience really wasn’t Y/N’s strong suit and it was beginning to show, even if the smoking had initially relaxed her. “Let’s hear it. I want to know what I’d be getting myself into, besides greasy hands and the smell of motor oil.” Though she’d never admit how she’d learned to enjoy it, too.

He couldn’t lie and say he wasn't enjoying how intently she was looking at him, how her gaze was fixed on his every move. He leaned forward just a bit, his voice dropping lower as he continued* "Alright, y’wanted to know, you'll get to know like the princess y’are. But keep in mind, I've got a few of these, not just one." The taunting made her give him that impatient look he was used to, snickering under his breath as she bore her eyes into him.

“Okay. Lay them on me, tell me!” She huffed, knocking his knee. “You’re edging for no reason. I already know that one because you’re gross. Tell me the real stuff.”

Raising a brow at her eagerness, he leaned back again with his arm still draped behind her. He began speaking again, letting his voice drop a bit. "Alright, just a little tiny taste then… See if you can handle it. I've got a thing for power dynamics, darling. Particularly, I like to be in control."

“Mm… I could have guessed that. You’ve got the whole smolder thing, and you do the…” Y/N put her hand behind his neck before pulling it off. “Then you do the neck holding thing when we go out. You like to control where people go. Boss me around. So I had a clue. Give me one I wouldn’t expect.”

The perceptive observations hadn’t been something he expected, but it did amuse him. He reached up to brush a strand of her hair away from her face, his fingers lingering against her skin.

"You know me too well, little dove." He muttered, his eyes sparkling with mischief. This was a conversation he was enjoying. Not one he anticipated tonight, no, but one that had him on the edge of his metaphorical seat. His real seat was leaned against the back of the couch. "Okay then... how about this? I also enjoy a bit of exhibitionism. Kinky enough for you?"

“Oh?” She sat with it for a moment. “Actually… that makes sense too. You’re understated in public but you still get a lot of attention. Behind the scenes you’re an attention whore and stuff, which I know first hand but… yeah.” She huffed. “Damn. Can’t believe I didn’t guess that sorta stuff.” Another question popped into her mind. “Wait… what have you done with that? Are you talking like. Dressing rooms, cars? Or in front of people for real?”

Harry grinned as she continued to analyze his kinks, watching her as she went through it in her head. Had she thought about it before on her own? That wasn’t something he’d mind, in all honest. He chortled at her question and leaned back, his arm wrapped behind her. He didn't want to reveal too much but he was enjoying this back and forth. Maybe a tad bit more than he should be.

"You've got good instincts, darling. Yes, I enjoy exhibitionism. And yeah, both dressing rooms and cars are on the list. But not just that... I like a bit more of an audience sometimes. But that’s a different conversation. I can explain why I like it, though. Since you seem to be so curious.”

“Do tell.” Yes, maybe she was a little nosy but… it was slightly arousing. Harry was interesting to her before but now, with the idea of her being in those scenarios, she felt an elevated desperation to know.

Harry noticed how her eyes darkened with excitement as she listened to him and it made a feeling of satisfaction twist in his gut. Having an effect on her was something he hadn’t realized he’d enjoy so much, but now that he had a taste he wanted to see more of it. He shifted a bit closer, his voice dropping into a low whisper. "I like the thrill of being caught. The danger of it, y’know? I love that it’s risky, that your adrenaline pump and you’ve got t’be quiet. Or you don’t, and you have people see- when it’s appropriate.” That was something he’d experienced a few times. “I’ve had it happen before. Maybe I could arrange that, if that’s something you’d want. People watching, not touching, just watching me touch you... and I’d touch you plenty, darling."

“I think um, I’d like it” It was hard to talk with how her tongue felt tied. “I’ve not done a lot of it but I think I’d be open to seeing and doing more of it.” Her voice weakened, feeling him close to her. His cologne was warm and slightly spiced, his fingertips brushing her arm. Y/N had never experienced the sort of thing he was describing. The most she had done was fuck in a car. “Y-Yeah. I think that’s something we could um… try.” She cleared her throat, trying not to show how affected she actually was. It was hard not to. “What other kinks? Anything I wouldn’t guess?”

Harry saw right through her attempts to seem unbothered and he grinned, his hand continuing to lightly brush against her shoulder. He was enjoying the effect he had on her, the more the minutes passed by. It was a brand new side of her that he hadn’t been privy too prior, but now that he had a chance to? He was going to indulge.

"Glad you're up for trying it, darling. And as for other kinks..." He paused for a moment, his gaze trailing over her body before he spoke again in a deeper voice.

"I'm also into a bit of rope bondage, but that’s for another day too. The typical things you’d expect in kink too, the rougher stuff sometimes, but I really like working you up until you can’t take it anymore. Making you desperate, y’know?"

“Ropes?” She swallowed the shock. “Oh. Hm…” it made sense given the other things but for some reason she hadn’t expected him to be into actual ropes. “I’d have thought maybe more handcuffs but you do like being difficult, don’t you?”

It was a joke but it slightly intimidated her. Nothing she wouldn’t try, though. She trusted him to do that sort of thing with her, if they got to it.

Harry hummed at her surprise and leaned a little closer, his hand coming up to her chin to tilt her face towards him. His eyes locked with hers, his tone serious. It was hard to ignore how beautiful she was now that he was allowed to think that way. It was something he’d tried to limit his brain from indulging in before, but knowing he’d have all the rights to be the one to stare and touch her, he felt like a layer had been peeled back.

"Yeah, darling, I like being difficult. And I like being in control. But we'll take it slow, alright?" He saw the hint of intimidation on her face and the small act of rebellion he liked to see in her. He ran his thumb over her bottom lip, her skin hot and soft under his touch. “Nothin’ you don’t want t’do. I’ll make sure you're comfortable. Even if you’re a miserable little brat sometimes.”

“I…” her train of thought was stalled by the tender touch. Harry was… he was being a lot more liberal with his touches. Sometimes he was when he was high in general but this itself had her feeling hot under her skin. There was that intention now that this was slightly more than what friends do. “I can’t lie and say I’m not slightly intimidated by the thought of us doing stuff together. You’ve done a lot more than me.” She admitted meekly.

Harry simpered as he heard her confession and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He appreciated her honesty, understanding her intimidation. It would be the same for him in her position, but luckily he was going to use his advantage for good. "I know I've done more than you, but that's not a good nor a bad thing. Everyone is experienced in their own way, darling. And that's the point of us doing this... to explore each other, to learn what the other likes." He ran his hand down her arm, his fingers lightly tracing her skin, sending chills across her body.

His fingers curled around her wrist, lightly pulling her up and leading her to straddle his lap. This wasn’t at all where she had expected this night to go but… she couldn’t complain. With her nerves aside, Harry was by far one of the most attractive people she had ever met. There was no way she could turn away the opportunity to feel the way he touched someone romantically.

“You’re really okay not sleeping with anyone else in order to do stuff with me?”

Harry gazed up at her as she straddled his lap, his hands sliding up her thighs, pulling her closer against him. He looked up at her with a mix of desire and affection, appreciating her concern for his boundaries. "I'm absolutely fine with it," he assured her, his voice a low rumble. "I don't want anyone else." His hand came up, gently cupping her jaw. "I want to make you feel good, Y/N. I want to give you all the pleasure you deserve, and I want to be the only one doing it."

Y/N let out a weak sound as his lips pressed against the corner of her mouth. Having him so close was making her feel lightheaded, placing her hands on his shoulders as he tugged her closer to him, chest to chest.

“What do you want to do tonight?” She mumbled, eyes dropping to his lips back up to his eyes. “We don’t have to do like, everything and stuff but… I dunno.” The weed definitely made her aroused.

Harry chuckled softly, his lips just barely grazing the corner of her mouth, teasing her again. Feeling her body against his, her hands on his shoulders, it sent a wave of heat through his body. He doubted she knew that he’d started getting aroused when she started talking about what he’d be into.

"You're cute when you're bashful, darling. And high." He teased, his lips curving into a smirk as he spoke against her skin. "As for what I want to do... I just want to enjoy this moment. Maybe smoke a bit more, later. But mostly I just want to touch you."

“O-okay. You can touch me however you want.” Giving him that opening was bold, but she also knew she needed to just let him take charge. He said he liked to dom, so he would take care of her. Her eyes fluttered closed as she felt soft presses of his lips over her cheek, down to her jaw.

“You smell really good.”

Harry could feel himself holding back the pleased noise. The little compliment was a welcomed one, but he didn’t get them often from her. It was a new part of their dynamic but he couldn’t find himself upset with it. In fact, he was going to do everything he could to get some more out of her. He glanced at her, enjoying the way her eyes closed in response to his touch. Running his nose down the column of her neck, he took a little inhale of her scent. Sugary Sweet. Just like her.

"So do you, darling." He spoke against her skin.

In a test of how she’d react, he let his hands slid under her shirt, his fingers tracing along her bare skin. There was no stiffening, so he continued slowly moving closer to the hem of her bra. His lips continued their path down, leaving behind a trail of tingling sensations and wet marks on her skin.

The shaky exhale was louder than she had wanted, his hot fingertips burning a trail over her skin. He took the permission to heart, tracing the bottom of her bra as his lips moved down her collarbone.

Her breathing hitched as she felt his teeth sink into the skin lightly, a firm sucking making her fingers grip his shoulders tightly and nails dig into him just a bit. “Oh, shit… why does that feel good?”

Harry giggled against her skin as he felt her nails digging into his shoulders, enjoying the fact he was already getting a reaction out of her. He continued to kiss and bite her skin, occasionally sucking on the sensitive parts, marking his territory and drawing out more sounds from her.

"Cause I know what I'm doing, darling." He murmured against her skin before biting her collarbone again, this time a bit rougher.

“Oh my god.” She keened, head falling back as her hand came up to cup the back of his head. Fingers curled in his hair, feeling his mouth mark her up while his hand went under her bra, cupping her in his palms. “Fuck.”

Y/N felt the pulsing between her slick thighs, her sleep shorts riding up as she shuffled closer and pressed his mouth harder against her skin. It had been a while since she’d gotten laid but it was a little embarrassing how quickly he managed to get her to feel completely insane.

The sounds of her keening and breathing and the feeling of her arching into his touch was making his own need for her grow. His lips continued to work her her skin, marking and kissing and doing all the things he wanted because it felt like heaven to have this on tap. He could only imagine how much better their smoking sessions would be, how much more fun sleepovers would be if he got to love her up like this without a second thought.

“H…” she whimpered. Rocking her hips slightly, she rubbed against his bulge she could feel clearly between her thighs. “You’re h-hard already?”

Harry hummed quietly, feeling a thrill as she rubbed against him. His lips curled into a smirk against her skin before he lifted his head up, looking at her with darkened eyes. "Yeah, 'course I am, darling. You have no idea what you do to me, do you?"

Moving his hands back down to her hips, he gripped them tightly to grind himself against her. Give her a taste of just how hard his cock got for her. There was no reason for her to doubt. “You did this, sweet girl. S’all your fault.”

“Oh, shit.” She groaned, giggling at the end as she felt his mouth fall onto her chest. Wet, sloppy kisses were placed on the tender skin as she felt him guide her back and forth, setting a pace for the friction. “I can’t tell if it’s been a long time or if uh… if you’re just really good at this.”

Both. It was absolutely both.

Harry chuckled against her chest, his breath hot against her skin before his smirk widened.

"Mm, I would like to think it's because I'm really good at this," his hands guided her hips, setting a slow, torturous pace. "But maybe also a bit of both. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

“Uh-huh.” She nodded. “9 months.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at her response and tilted his head to the side.

"Nine months? Damn, babe." He murmured, his hands going under her shirt, his fingers tracing up her sides, making her shiver. Getting the reactions from her felt almost as good as her rubbing over his cock. "That's a long time."

“Just didn’t find anyone good enough to let in my bed.” She retorted, using her grip on his head to guide him back to her chest. “Take my shirt off.”

Harry didn't need to be told twice. He quickly pulled her shirt off, throwing it over his shoulder, before his hands came back up to her body, slowly tracing up her stomach, his fingers brushing over her skin. The thought had been there quite a few times over what she’d look like bare, but this was a brand new vision for him. One he absolutely adored.

"Beautiful." He murmured, his gaze wandering over her chest as he took in the sight of her bare skin, his breathing growing a bit heavier.

Her voice interrupted his inspection of her body. “Bra, too, please. Have to bite the bullet.” Despite her nerves that maybe he wouldn’t like what he saw, she felt comfortable with him. Harry wouldn’t ever make her feel bad. That much she knew for certain.

Plus… she wanted to feel more of his mouth.

Harry chuckled softly and nodded, his gaze locking with hers for a moment as he ran his fingers over the straps of her bra, pulling them down over her shoulders.

"You're so beautiful, darling. Don't ever feel nervous around me," his reassurance grounded her, his voice gentle but firm.

He reached behind her back, quickly unclasping her bra and pulling it off, tossing it away. Taking a moment to appreciate the sight in front of him, his eyes lit with desire. “God. You don’t even understand how phenomenal you are, do you? M’a lucky son of a bitch that you’re letting me touch you at all.”

Y/N continued to rub herself against him, feeling flushed at the praise. It was embarrassing that she had a pretty good idea that her sleep shorts were getting soaked, but she was swollen and wet and the motions itself of him between her legs were getting her embarrassing close.

Feeling his mouth kiss over the naked skin, she let out a moan that she hadn’t expected to. He was delicate but demanding, taking what he wanted.

Harry groaned as he felt her rubbing herself harder against him, his hands gripping her hips tightly to guide her movements. He couldn't resist the need building up inside him, the need to make her moan and whimper and squirm beneath him.

"You sound so pretty, darling," The compliment murmured against her skin, his lips traveling down her chest, stopping every so often to leave wet kisses, claiming every inch of skin he could. Selfish, possessive, needy. He wouldn’t deny any three of those allegations should she so choose to label him.

“It’s gonna feel so good when you’re inside of me.” She whispered, almost in awe. He was thick and long and she could feel every inch under her. It was almost intimidating to feel it and know that was going to be inside of her at some point. “But I… we have to wait for that. Wanna do that when we aren’t all… you know.” High. At least the first time they fucked, she wanted to be sober completely. “I think I could get off just like this, though. I feel so good right now.”

Harry nodded, his lips continuing to leave wet kisses on her skin, his hands roaming up her sides as he continued to grind himself against her.

"Impatient, aren't you, darling?" He teased, nipping at her neck before moving his mouth to her ear, whispering in it. "You'll just have to wait for that, though. But...there's always other ways to get us both off, hm?"

“Which way?” She breathed, eager to hear any and all suggestions he had.

Harry held her gaze, his eyes dark and full of desire as he spoke in a low, husky tone.

"Let me show you."

He gently pushed her back until she was laying down, his hands running down her thighs, pushing them apart slowly. Shifting his position, he hovered over her, his body fitting perfectly between her legs. His weight rested on his forearms as he looked down at her, she felt her world right itself from how it had been tipped over.

Y/N hadn’t expected the shift of direction but she liked it. Feeling him on top of her, she felt… delicate. Protected. Even if his gaze was predatory and hot, she knew he was good hands to be in.

She also hadn’t expected his hands to grab her shorts, pulling them off and tossing them to the side- but as soon as her panties were exposed, he settled back between her thighs. It was less of a barrier between them.

Harry hummed in approval as he got a glimpse of her panties, taking a moment to admire the sight before him. "You're so fucking wet, darling. Made a mess of those useless shorts. Panties aren’t much better." He murmured, his eyes roaming over her body before they went back up to her face. "And I fuckin’ love that you're all mine right now."

Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. Grabbing his face, she pulled it back up to her own and kissed him. Taking matters into her own hands, she felt him reciprocate immediately. And god, could the man fucking kiss.

Harry let out a soft curse at her sudden action but didn't hesitate to kiss her back through it all, his lips moving against hers hungrily. He pressed his body closer against hers, trapping her beneath him as his tongue delved into her mouth, greedily tasting and claiming her like he had been teasing the whole time.

“I wish you could fuck me right now.” She whimpered, feeling him rock against her. His cock perfectly pressed against her cunt and their mouths lapping against one another’s, it was heated and desperate. They couldn’t, not right now, but the idea of it had her slick and throbbing. It was unfair how her body was so primed and ready for him but she had to do the right thing. He’d feel so perfect inside of her and she’d be so full and they both knew it. “I wish you were inside me.”

Harry groaned at her words, the sound almost like a growl as he buried his face against her neck, his breathing getting heavier as he heard her whimper. He rocked his hips against her, his own need growing stronger with every second that passed.

"You have no idea how badly I want that, darling. But we can't...not yet." He whispered against her skin, his hands gripping her hips tightly. “I’m plenty patient, though. I’ll wait for you to want it, and then…” the pause was heavy. “Then I’ll give you every fucking thing you’ve ever wanted out of a fuck. Can promise you that.”

“I know. I know.” There was no doubt that he was fully and utterly capable. She swallowed back her desperation, wrapping her legs around his hips to pull them closer. “You just feel so good against me. I never expected this…” she whispered against his mouth. “But I’m so happy you decided to be horny and suggest it.”

Harry laughed, leaning down to press his lips against her neck again, licking at the skin as he continued to move his hips against hers, his body hot and heavy against hers. He lifted his head up slightly, looking down at her with darkened eyes as he took in how she had started to look a little blissed out. Just how he wanted her.

"I didn't expect it either, darling. But... I'm glad I did." He murmured, his fingers caressing her skin as he settled into a slow, steady rhythm. Rubbing back and forth, rocking his clothed cock into the sticky heat of her ruined panties, he knew her scent would be on them and that just sort of did something to him. Her own mark left on him.

Y/N felt the bubbling pleasure in her tummy. Feeling him rutting against her, the softness of his tongue as it brushed against her own, his hand curled around the back of her neck in such a possessive and firm grip, she felt controlled in the best way. Her eyes rolled back as she felt him grind harder against her.

“Fuck, Daddy. That feels so fucking good, feeling you against my cunt.” She purred, keeping herself glued to him. There was a pause of moment but she could feel him twitch against her, the sharp intake of breath as he tried to catch himself. It had been a shot in the dark, but one that hit the bullseye. “You like when I call you that? Does it make you feel good too?”

The reaction was visible. The man liked it more than she could even seem but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to play into it to see just how far it went. “Daddy… daddy…. Dadddy.” She taunted, whispering it against his skin. “You’ll make me cum like this. Just keep grinding into me…. Just like this.”

Harry groaned at her response, his lips moving down to her neck, leaving biting kisses in his path. The honorific had him weak, even more worked up than he had thought he could be in this scenario. Little Y/N was getting bolder by the minute and he fucking adored it. It made him wonder what else he could get out of her.

"You're gonna get it, darling. Jus’ be patient and let me make you feel nice, the way you’ve been wantin’ too." he murmured against her skin, his hips continuing to move against hers, keeping a steady pace. His hand cupped her chin, forcing her to look up at him, his eyes dark and intense as he looked down at her. "Daddy's gonna take such good care of you, Y/N. Don’t ever doubt it."

Harry was hot to the touch, her fingers guiding his face back to kiss her as he ground his cock into her. She could feel how it twitched against her, her legs keeping him close so they could stay glued together. “That feels…” she babbled. “S’good. So good, H. I feel so hot and I’m so fucking wet and I wish there wasn’t anything between us but we gotta be good. So good.” She rambled. It was hard to control what left her mouth. She would call it temporary insanity if he brought it up again outside of their arrangement, but the simple movements were making her lose her goddamn head.

Harry's breathing was getting heavier by the minute, his heart pounding against his chest like they wanted to escape his ribcage as he continued to rock his hips against hers. He felt hot and needy, every fiber of his being screaming to be closer to her, but he held himself back, knowing that they had to at least try to be good. He’d get to sink his cock into that hot cunt another day, make her cum around it and squeeze and milk every drop from his balls into her. That was something he was going to look forward to. But for right now they were testing the waters, and he liked it way more than he thought he would.

"Y’feel so good, darling. So, so fuckin’ good, can barely stand it." He murmured against her lips, letting the praise flow easily off his tongue. It’s what the woman deserved. All these shitty hookups and no one knew how to get to those little itches she couldn’t scratch- but he could read her so easily. Harry knew what she needed. "You're doing so well for me, being so good. Daddy's proud of you."

The last sentence made her whine out loud. Pleasure flowed through her at his praise, wanting more of it. All of it. It had been so long since she had been touched by someone else, and while the last person she had expected to do it was her best friend, she had also never felt this level of desperation.

Harry could feel her body responding to his words, her whimpers and whines making his own desire for her grow even more. He loved knowing that his praise was making her feel good, that she needed to hear his words. He continued to murmur sweet, filthy things in her ear as his body moved against hers, his need for her growing more and more intense with every second.

"That’s my girl, sweetheart. You're doing so well for me, letting me take care of you like this."

He knew it had been a long time for her, felt it in how she kissed. Selfishly he would be glad to be the one she got to take care of her. No one else really deserved it. Maybe he didn’t either, but he cared for her genuinely. He liked her and he wanted the best for her- so that’s what he was going to do.

“M’gonna cum, daddy.” She whispered. “I feel it. You’re getting my clit so perfect each time you move… god, s’so embarrassing to cum dry humping but I forgot how good it feels.” Or maybe it just hadn’t ever felt this good with anyone else. It had been a while, sure, but she hadn’t actually had dry sex with someone since she was sneaking around with her boyfriends back home. Something about it made her know that it had to be a Harry thing, though. That he’s the reason it felt this fucking good and why she was desperate for it.

Harry could feel her words shooting straight to his core, his body growing hotter in response. He could tell that she was close before she had even said so, by the way her body trembled against him, by the way her words got breathier and more desperate. Hearing her say so only made him more eager to get there.

"That's it, sweetheart. Let daddy make you feel good, darling." Harry murmured in her ear, his hands gripping her tighter, his body moving against hers more frantically now as he chased his own release alongside hers. She was going to cum, she was going to cum because of him and fuck if that wasn’t the sweetest reward he could think of- he wasn’t sure what was. "You're doing so perfect for me. Just let go for me. You can do it. I've got you, sweet girl."

Y/N felt it approach quicker than she had wanted. It was no wonder, though. Harry was giving her everything she didn’t know she needed in the simplest way, and he wasn’t even inside of her yet. She felt safe and appreciated as his fingers held her and his lips cooed encouragement to her, the rhythmic back and forth of his cock rutting against her poor, soaked panties, the heat boiling over.

“I’m gonna- m’cumming, m’cumming, I’m cumming Daddy- Harry.” She babbled as her eyes welled up with pleasured tears, nails digging into his skin as she came.

Harry's breathing hitched as he felt her grip on him, her hands digging into his skin and her body trembling against his as she came. “There you go baby, there you fuckin’ go. Yes.” He gasped, feeling himself tip over the edge. His name leaving her lips in a strangled whimper had been the final straw, his own release hitting him like a wave, his body shuddering against hers as he followed her over the edge. Shooting right into his briefs, he felt the hot and sticky load and momentarily mourned the loss of it not being inside of her, but it was quickly passed over as the orgasm washed over him.

"God, darling," the man groaned, his voice low and rough as he buried his face against her neck. Mouthing over the skin as he tried to gather his bearings, he mumbled sweetness into her. "You did so well for me, sweetheart. You're so perfect. So good for me. Sweetest fuckin’ peach."

The loud groan that followed her own had caught her off guard, the sharp thrusts of his hips making her cry out in overstimulation but she did little to stop it, keeping her legs around his hips. “What the fuck was that?” She laughed, head falling back on the sofa with her eyes blurry and wet. It was hard to think.

Harry couldn’t say anything, his own brain fuzzy and his body in overload after that climax. He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath, his forehead resting on her shoulder. His curls brushed her skin, scalp slightly damp as her fingers settled in the mess of hair and brushed through it without a second thought.

"Bloody fuckin’ hell, babe." Harry finally managed to say, his voice a bit shaky. "That was… incredible." He lifted his head up, looking down at her disheveled and flushed form, his eyes roaming over her.

It was just dry sex, but it had been better than some of the full on stuff he’d had. Maybe it was just their connection, their vibe, maybe even being high, but he knew it felt impeccable. This was something he wanted to revisit- and he would, especially when he was all alone with his hand on his cock.

“If it feels good like that, what the hell are we gonna do when we do the real thing?” Y/N blinked up at him, the flush of her orgasm glowing on her skin. She felt her body shivering slightly, her poor panties a complete mess she’d need to change into, but there was no regret so far. It took her by surprise considering she had been anticipating a bit of awkwardness between the both of them but there was no hint of it as they recovered, a light kiss pressed over her cheek as his hazy eyes looked down at her.

Harry let out a half-laugh, his body still feeling heavy and spent after that intense release- one that had been a welcomed surprise. There had been no prior indication that would be happening tonight but for as insane as it was that it happened, he was more than happy that it did. Getting to experience this side of Y/N had been something he liked far more than he could have ever anticipated.

Leaning down, his forearms rested on either side of her head as his eyes locked with hers while he spoke. "I have a feeling that the real thing will be earth-shattering." He said, his voice low and slightly hoarse. "The wait might kill me, though."

[yandere-romanticaa]

"How long do you plan on keeping me here?" you ask with a slight sneer. The man in question hardly pays you any mind as his large back is still turned to you, his attention seemingly fully concentrated on some flashing images on the screen that change every few seconds.

All those weeks ago, you had been swallowed by a black hole and found yourself in a completely new dimension and by some strange twist of fate Miguel O'Hara had discovered you. He would often call you an "anomaly" and would say how you must go back home but should stay here in the meantime. Traveling through dimensions is rough on tough guy like him let alone a regular civilian who had zero combat experience. He would keep you close to him and his office, giving you little tasks and chores to keep you from dying of boredom and to, quite frankly, keep you away from the sea of endless Spidermen who were more than curious about your person as a whole, which risked you picking up their bad jokes and stupid attitude and Miguel was just not in the mood to deal with that. You relationship was purely professional with a slight humorous twist from time to time. Miguel was so easy to rile up, how could you not mess with him? Be it rearranging his stuff, poking and pinching his cheeks in order to get some sort of hilarious reaction out of him Miguel became your main source of entertainment. His stone cold attitude always backfired and instead of running away into the opposite direction like most people do, you stuck to him like glue.

Without even realizing it, your presence became a sort of weakness of his.

He lost track of how many images he had saved up of you in a secret folder of his and he just liked to... watch them. He just liked watching you in general. His face was devoid of emotion, his attitude was anything but welcoming but no matter how snappy he got, no matter how angry he may get, he never got truly mad at you.

People like to say that the eyes are the windows to ones very soul and Miguel O'Hara embodies that saying perfectly.

He could be having the worst day imaginable but all he needs to do is to see you, to look at you in your own element and he will feel like a brand new man.

He can't help but to be a little angry at you, for making him so weak.

You distracted him from his work, his duty, however, he still could not bare the thought of you being by anyone else's side. He needs you like a man needs air and you were left in the dark when it came to that fact.

Good.

You don't need to know the extent of Miguel's feelings, you don't need to see just how hard the flames of wicked jealousy roar in his heart and you most certainly do not need to know just how much his soul weeps to touch, kiss, protect, keep you.

He can keep that facade up only for so long though. And as much as he likes to think, Miguel is not the best when it comes to keeping his cool. It is only a matter of time before the dam of his feelings cracks and spills, overwhelming you and him both. Once that happens, there is no going back.

[chrissv4mp]

౨ৎ YOU DON'T REMEMBER CALLING OUT FOR ME?

★ sum: after a bad breakup with matt, you storm out of his party and get in the car. matt follows after you, and he regrets everything he said when he sees it happen.

☆ pair: matt sturniolo × fem!reader

�� tws: cursing, arguments, crying, driving under the influence kinda, car crashes, slight blood, mentions of amnesia (the loss of memories, facts, information, and experiences.)

☆ a/n: don't check my airbuds history.....

★ a/n 2: also really hoping to make a part 2 for this, but i need a few opinions

★ wc: 3.3k

navigation

"don't be so fucking sensitive, y/n! i was just messing around. you're getting all riled up over nothin', kid." matt groans, leaning back and supporting himself with his hands on the mattress underneath him.

a scoff falls from your lips as you cross your arms, watching him from the open door of his bedroom, "don't call me 'kid', i'm not a fuckin' kid, matthew. and you could've died from the height of your apartment! you're still drunk." you catch sight of his blown pupils even from across the room, worry and anger clear on your face.

matt just rolls his eyes, gripping the sheets in his hands as he sighs, "well, i can hear what you're saying perfectly, thank you. and, plus, i wasn't gonna lose 50 fucking dollars, y/n."

"you didn't have to give it to the guy, matt. you're just so reckless, it's like you're trying to kill yourself 24/7! what is your problem?" your breathing is heavy now, the heat of the argument never dying down as you continue to voice your complaints about his recklessness. tears threaten to fall down your cheeks as he just mutters inaudible words.

"what problem? there's not a problem, you're the one making it a problem, y/n. it's not my fault you're such a boring fucking person. god, i can't even comprehend why i wanted to date you!" he growls, his voice never shaking as he stares you straight in the eyes. he seems serious, but you knew that he always said things he never meant while under the influence.

it feels like your whole world just fell apart, though. your chest feels tighter and it's almost like you can barely breathe, gripping the doorframe tightly as you watch matt fiddle with the edge of his pillowcase. he really doesn't care, his eyes not showcasing any emotion other than hatred. or, that's what it seems. you want the tears to fall, but they don't. you want to leave, but you can't. you want matt to say something, maybe even take it back, but he doesn't.

you want to— "then why haven't you broken up with me?" stupid. the realization that you just spoke up hits you only when matt stands up from his bed, inching closer toward your small figure as he gets tilts his head to get a better look at you, "tell me, matt." again? just shut up!

"you're right, i really wonder why i didn't do this sooner." your eyes widen in the slightest, your heart dropping to your stomach as you stare up into his cold, blue eyes that once looked at you in adoration. the spark that was once there is gone now as he looks at you, squinting his eyes as he speaks, "we're over. get the fuck out of my room, y/n."

your lips part in a silent gasp, eyes searching his for any signs of hesitation or regret or something. nothing, once again. he scoffs when he takes a step back, crossing his arms in a mimicking manner as he nods his head toward the hallway behind you, "actually, get the fuck out of my house."

the sick feeling in your stomach never leaves even as you turn away from your boyf—ex, and walk through the hallway. you make your way down the stairs, not even stopping to say bye to nick or chris as you pass by them in the living room. all you do is keep your head down and drag your feet, grabbing your jacket off the rack before leaving through the front door. it slams behind you, but you don't care anymore. your whole world just fell apart right in the hands of the person who you loved most. in the hands of the person who you thought loved you the most.

matt didn't care, though. well, not until he replayed the earlier events in his head over and over again after he saw you leave down the stairs. the impact of his words didn't hit himself until you were finally gone and he was sitting in his room alone, surrounded by millions of memories of you and him. your clothes were still here, the things you bought for him, they were painful reminders of the words that he just spoke to you. he didn't even think about it when he said them, he was just spitting out anything that came to mind. he wasn't thinking of the consequences.

maybe he should run after you or maybe he should just sit here and drown in his sorrow and despair, that was the more reasonable option. for him at least. his mind is so loud right now, he doesn't even know what to think anymore. his body moves by itself, jolting forward as his feet take him running down the stairs. he skips steps, almost tripping over his untied shoelaces and stumbling down the last few. he takes a quick glance at the living room and kitchen, but you're not there.

party guests call matts name, but he's not listening. he's not interested in whatever bullshit they have to say right now because his mind is shouting at him to find you, to make things right and show you that he never meant it. he doesn't even notice that he's shoving party goers out of the way until someone pushes him back, resulting in the brunette getting splashed with some red beverage. his heart beats fast and hard, the sound loud and drowning out any other thing around him. we'll, besides the overwhelming thoughts of you.

he slips on one of chris's jackets, darting out the door and slamming it shut behind him. he doesn't see you in the driveway, no sight of your car down the street or on the side of the apartment. his ears pick up on the sound of a car beeping, and his head whips around to find a bike propped up against the garage door. it all happens so fast, he can't even remember when he started pedaling down the street and catching sight of your h/c hair through your car window. he waves, but you don't give him anything back.

it feels like he's invisible, and now he knows what you felt like tonight in that apartment, alone and unseen. unheard by any and everyone around you, including the love of your life. matt watches as you speed up, ready to round the corner deeper into the neighborhood. you really don't know where you're going, though. all you want right now is to just get away from the house and never come back, you didn't want to remember the events of tonight ever. your hands grip the steering wheel tightly as your foot presses even harder on the break.

the tears you held back earlier now begin to fall, and you mentally curse yourself for not holding them in longer. now you couldn't see anything, your vision blurry as you bring a hand up and off the steering wheel to wipe your eyes, trying to see through the windshield again. it doesn't work, and now you're just hoping that you won't lose control over the car. the limited time that your vision is cleared, you can see matt following close behind your car on a black bike, and your first instinct is to freeze and stare.

you don't make the turn, stomping on the brakes in the middle of the road as you watch your boy come closer and closer. his eyes widen, lips parting before you hear a cry of your name tumble from his lips. the only noise you hear is a loud horn coming from the left of you, your head whipping to the side and watching as a large truck comes your way at a fast pace. then, you hear the ringing in your ear, eyes squeezing shut as you let your arms fall to the side of you.

the truck t-bones your car, sending both of the vehicles flying to the right quickly. you smell gas, feeling the wet sensation of blood dripping down your temple and running down the bridge of your nose. your body feels weak, like you can't move, so you just sit there, head lying against the airbag on the steering wheel as you slip into unconsciousness. matt watches in shock and fear as your car tips on its side and smoke begins to erupt from the hood of the car. his heart feels like it stops beating for a moment as he watches the truck reverse and drive off quickly, anger coursing through his veins as he jumps off the bike and lets it fall to the pavement of the sidewalk.

he runs over to your car, his chest heaving up and down quickly as he makes an effort to tip the car back on its wheels. it doesn't work, though, and he grunts as he throws himself against the metal of the roof, "y/n, hey!" his voice seems to snap you out of your daze, now feeling fully conscious as your eyes flutter open again. your body fell against the car door, the seatbelt strap felt like it was suffocating you. the small space of the car suddenly made you weary, eyes widening as your breathing picked up rapidly.

"don't! stop, y/n, don't panic," matt breathes out, trying his best to come off as calm and collected. but he's really not, he's far from anything relatively close to the sort. more footsteps are heard behind him, and now his neighbor is standing a few feet beside matt, "what the fuck happened?"

"doesn't matter. js' help me flip the car, would you?" matt sighs, the panic in his body rising as the smell of gas surfaces. the car flips onto the wheels after quite a moment of struggles, and matt doesn't hesitate to throw youe car door open and grab you. his feet take him stumbling away from the car again, holding you tightly in his arms as if he let go, he would lose you. again. a string of coughs erupt from your throat as you and matt fall gently to the grass of someone's front yard, and matt lies you down as he props himself up with his elbows.

his neighbor is already far away, phone up to his ear as he watches the car explode into flames, the windows of nearby houses reflecting the burning red, orange, and blue lights. matt breathes out as he grips the fabric of his hoodie, more tears coming to his eyes at the realization that if he hadn't left sooner, you would've died. his head moves away entirely from the scene, looking back at your weak body that lay on the grass beside him.

only then does he notice the large gash just below your hairline, and his breath hitches again as he struggles to throw his hoodie over his head and hold it against your own. his other hand cradles the back of your head, his body hovering over yours as he silently prays that you'll be alright. the blood has already traveled down your neck, though. it soaks your white shirt as your head falls to the side, eyes threatening to close as you mutter out jumbled up words, "hey, hey, come on, look at me, y/n. please, look at me. open your eyes, come on..!"

"baby, please. just stay awake, please. my pretty girl, come on..!!" he whispers, anger overcoming his being as he grips the fabric in his hands tighter. he's so angry at himself. he wished he was the one in that car. he should've been the one to experience this, not you. you didn't deserve this at all. it was all his fault, what happened to you. what if he had just talked with you? what if he had just said sorry? what if, what if, what if?

the world seems to spinning faster than usual right now, your head aching as you look at your surroundings. as you look up at the sky, you're met with the cool shade of blue that slowly fades to orange and pink as it travels beneath the mountain until you can't see. then, you make out the frame of matts face, his eyes full of worry and his hair messy. tears stream down his face as he cried quietly, "matt?" you mutter weakly, eyes teary and bloodshot. he nods frantically, a small smile forming on his lips as he whispers, "yes, yes, yes. it's me." but then it all goes away.

matt? who was matt? your face contorts into a look of confusion as you try to tilt your head, only to hiss at the sting the small movement causes, "what—who? who are you?" the hope is washed away by those few words, and the brunettes smile disappears as he feels tiny, imaginary daggers stabbing away at his heart. he doesn't have time to speak before he finally hears the blaring sounds of sirens coming down the street. multiple emergency vehicles drive down the pavement quickly, stopping at the scene. matt is suddenly being pulled away from your frail body, fighting against the hands of the paramedics as he tries to yell out your name. nothing comes out, though, his voice too tired to be used anymore.

his vision is blurred, but he can still make out the way your eyes close softly as your head falls to the side. his heart shatters as he cries out your name finally, all the emotions so overwhelming he doesn't know what else to say. then his brothers are holding him close, trying to calm him down as all three of them stumble to the pavement of their driveway, "matt, hey, look at us. she'll be okay." nick whispers reassuringly, but he doesn't know if that's true. chris just stares blankly as the paramedics carry you on a gurney into the back of the ambulance.

your lip is busted, blood dripping down your head quickly and multiple bruises scattered across your body. the ambulance doors begin to close, and matt quickly jumps up from his place between his brothers and sprints towards the red car. his hands pry the doors open again, eyes wild as he stares at the caretakers in the back of the ambulance, "please, let me come. i need to be here with her, just—" one of the paramedics nod, and that's all the confirmation matt needs to jump into the back and take his place beside your head.

the car shakes subtly on the gravelly road, and the gentle coos of... him make your eyelids open slowly. you want to get up, so you make an effort to move yourself off the gurney in the back of the ambulance, but the paramedics only urge to stay where you're at, "you have to lay down, you're in terrible shape, sweetheart." but why? what even happened? where were you and why were you there?

who were these people? no, who was the guy right beside you who continued to stroke your hair gently? you don't even know yourself right now. did you hit your head? is that why it ached? what about your body? your eyes move around the small, confined space of the ambulance, stopping when you look out of the little window in the back door. the car continues to move down the street, but you still don't remember where you're going or where you were coming from.

"what happened?" you finally speak, but your voice is low and quiet, barely audible to anyone over the beeping of machines and the rocks beneath the road. matt sighs quietly, and now your attention is on him, "you got in a car crash. you're okay, now, so, don't worry." he gives you a gentle smile, but you only give him a look of confusion and worry.

"no?" you try to argue, looking around at the paramedics beside you. they only nod, and your heart drops once again. you were always a safe driver, or at least that's what you think in that moment. everything in your mind is so blurry you don't even remember what happened yesterday or what plans you made for the future. and still, you didn't know the guy touching your face.

matt watches as you space out, his thumb stroking your cheek affectionately as he frowns. he remembers the look on your face earlier that night, when he broke things off, and now it's back. that dumbfounded look that makes your lips part and your eyes squint subtly. you looked the same at times, even when half your face was beat up. he didn't care, though, he still thought you were beautiful, always. he brings his hand up to brush a stray hair out of your face, and only then do you turn your head to look at him again.

"who are you..?" you whisper, eyes looking him up and down. his hair is messy, eyes droopy, cheeks stained with tears, and his clothing is wrinkled. matt tilts his head, a smile coming to his face as more tears well up in his eyes, "you don't remember me?" you shake your head the best you can, squinting your eyes to try and get a better look at him. it feels like you should remember him, it seems like he was an important person in your life, but you can't quite grasp who he was to you.

"you don't even remember calling out to me?" another shake of your head, and matt inhales sharply. he wanted to scream and cry. he wanted you to comfort him. he wanted you back. but he should've known you wouldn't remember it. he should've taken the hint the moment you asked who he was. it still hurt, though. it felt like the entire world was bashing him. emotionally and physically, it hurt, the guilt weighing down on his shoulders as he stared at your confused face, sniffling quietly before he took his hands off your head.

the drive continues, but this time the tension is thicker then before. the silence is so loud, you barely hear the loud blaring of a truck horn coming from outside of the car. you flinch hard, eyes shutting closed as you try and shield your face. matt watches with teary eyes, letting out a breath of sympathy as he replays the events in his head. then, the entire thing comes back to you. the loud horn, the smell of gas, the blood sticking to your hair and the boy who came to save you.

red, orange, blue. the fire. the screams and the cries that the boy let out for you. he was the first person to come after you because he cared for you. you still didn't know why, though. why did he care so much? why did he feel the need to save you? "i told you even then you looked so pretty, y/n. you still do, you'll always be beautiful to me." the brunette whispered, leaning over your frail body as he gave you a gentle smile. his eyes were teary, though, and he looked hurt. very hurt.

"i—i'm sorry." is all you can say at the moment, eyes traveling to his as you frown. he shakes his head, lips parting to inhale shakily before he speaks, "don't be. ts' not you're fault," he smiles, but when he looks back into your eyes, they're swarming with the tiniest bit of guilt, "you do know that, right?" nothing but silence from your end. the boy takes your hand lightly, careful not to accidentally hurt you as he runs his thumb along the top, "it was never your fault, baby. i promise you, it was my—it was that truckers fault for not stopping."

your lips curve into the smallest smile as you make an effort to hold his hand, and the boy almost bursts out into sobs as he feels it. his head turns away from you for a few moments, trying to recollect himself as he takes deep breaths. when he finally looks back at you, your eyes are already on him, "i'm—i'm matt, you're boyfriend. but... we need to talk about a few things, 'kay..?"

tags: @jetaimevous @livialifesblog @watercolorskyy @blahbel668 @her-favorite

@wiidfi0wer33

[stevesherdaddynowlover]

pet names and looped pinkies pt.2 [s.h.] 18+

an: hiii me again :) literally one person asked for this so i ran to do it and ended up going a little crazy with it but oh well! hope you enjoy!! feel free to send suggestions or ideas or just chat :) also this is not edited i was too tired goodnight and god bless steve harrington

masterlist

summary: a part 2 to this in which you and steve are best friends but really you want more and are too scared to say it. (steve harrington x fem!reader)

warnings: okayyyy very anxious reader, bottling up our emotions, cursing, kissing, fluff, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, some spit, an almost blowjob, i think thats it??? 18+ MDNI!!!!!

wc: 9.6k

So what if you watched your best friend that you’re madly in love with get off in front of you! So what if you helped him! It was fine. Perfectly fine, right? 

Wrong. 

Your head was a mess, everything all jumbled up and you didn’t know how to sort through any of this. It had been three days since it happened and you’d been as normal as possible with Steve, answering his phone calls and eating with him on his lunch break. Everything was fine as far as he was concerned. It wasn’t until you climbed into your bed at night that your head started to spin, and not in a good way, your palms sweating and your chest feeling heavy. 

Confused. You were so beyond confused and frustrated with yourself over this whole situation. Confused because it had been one of the best experiences of your life and now your brain was picking it apart piece by piece and making your stomach turn and your head pound. Steve had said all the right things, all the things you’d wanted to hear for years, but you also had your hand on his cock so how much of that did he actually mean! Did he even remember it, want to remember it? What if he never wanted to do it again or even worse wanted to pretend like it didn’t happen? 

And frustrated. So fucking frustrated with yourself because these cruel, mean thoughts were based off nothing besides your own worries! They had no merit, but that did little to soothe the ache in your chest when you thought about your friendship with Steve. 

The rational part of your brain, what was left of it at least, knew that if you just talked to Steve that this could all be cleared up. He would listen to you ramble and maybe he had a good enough handle on his emotions that he could give you some clarity. You knew this. You knew Steve would never be cruel or malicious with you, especially about something like this. And a part of you even knew that despite how well you thought you had hid it, Steve probably knew just how much this, how much he really meant to you. 

But the much bigger part of your brain, the irrational part, held so much worry and fear about this potential conversation with Steve that you’d kept your mouth shut for the last 3 days. What if he regretted it? What if he didn’t mean anything he said and you were just there at the right time? What if this makes things weird and you lose your best friend? What if he just feels sorry for you? Does he know how you feel and decided to give you some attention out of…pity?

Your palms had little crescent shapes in them from where you had dug your fingernails, trying to ground yourself and failing miserably. Maybe this wasn’t a big deal. Maybe you were being dramatic and blowing this way out of proportion. Maybe Steve felt the same. But did you want to risk that? Could you? Because all you really knew at the end of the day was that you loved him. You loved him more than you ever thought possible, so much your heart felt like it could burst when he smiles at you or laughs a little too hard at something that’s not even funny. 

So you kept your mouth shut and tried to be as normal as possible. You kept that fake smile on your face and prayed that nobody noticed, or kept it to themselves if they did. You let Steve tug on your hair and loop his pinky with yours as if it didn’t break your heart a little more each time he did it. 

Any piece of him would be enough for you, it was better than not having any of him at all. 

                     ***************************

Steve could tell that something was up. He’d expected you to avoid him after that night and was pleasantly surprised when you answered his call on the second ring the next morning, smiling to himself and trying not to bounce on his heels like an overexcited puppy. 

But then he’d seen you in person. You’d come to Family Video on your day off to eat lunch with him on his break, giving him a quick once over when you first walked in but besides that…nothing. Maybe you were feeling a little shy, he could understand that. He saw the small smile you gave him when he pulled out two pb&j’s, one for him and one for you and it made his heart soar. He liked doing things for you, loved making you happy. 

He thinks he’d give you the moon if he could. 

Everything seemed normal so far, you were a little more quiet than usual but considering the circumstances he wasn’t too surprised by that. It’s when you’re sitting down with him in the break room that he notices. You’re talking now, laughing at his stupid jokes and teasing him like always, but it’s different. 

You’re here but you’re not. You’re not looking at him, you’re looking around him. You’re giving him smiles and giggles but they’re not yours. This is even worse than what he imagined because you’re trying to act normal. He can practically see your head spinning, thoughts going crazy behind your eyes and it kills him. It hurts because you’re keeping this from him. You’re hiding from him. 

If he’s being honest with you and himself, he’s been freaking out about this so he knows you’ve been too. But he thought you were good enough friends that it wouldn't have been weird to talk about it. He thought he made you feel safe and comfortable enough to confide in him. 

But maybe he hadn’t. Maybe he needed to try harder to make sure you knew that he was there for you. Always. That he’d do anything to make you feel safe. That you could come to him with anything and he’d listen without judgment. That he loved you.

“Do you wanna talk about it, honey?” He bit the bullet, hoping this didn’t blow up his face and praying to god you didn’t want to forget it had ever happened, he knew he sure as hell wouldn’t. 

“Oh..no-we don’t have to, I mean we can if you want but I’m fine. I mean, it’s fine, right? We’re good.” He knew he’d lost you, your eyes dropping to the floor to stare as your foot tapped nervously on the tile. 

“Later, then. We can talk about it when you’re ready, yeah?” The fucking Family Video break room wasn’t the place to have this conversation anyways but he couldn’t stand to see you pretending around him, acting like you were okay when you weren’t. 

He hated to see you pretending but he hated even more that he couldn't lean across this tiny table and kiss you. God he wanted to taste you again, to watch how your pretty pink lips got all swollen and slick and to feel how your hands tugged mercilessly on his curls while you dragged him closer to you. 

But he could be patient. He’d wait for you forever if that's what it took. 

                   ********************************

A party was the last place you wanted to be tonight, but when Steve had called you and practically begged for you to come, you found yourself agreeing before you knew what you were doing. As if you’d ever be able to say no to him. You did manage to tell him you’d meet him there, needing to give yourself some time to get your head on straight and pretend to be put together. 

You’re not even sure whose house this is, you didn’t recognize the address when it was given to you over the phone and standing on the front porch now in front of an open door with people and music pouring out of it, you think you’ve made a huge mistake. 

Despite the nagging feeling in your gut telling you to turn around and run back home, you think of Steve and you just don’t have the heart to not show up. Pushing through the crowd of people proves harder than expected, a grunt escaping when you catch an elbow or hip that almost knocks you over. You keep pushing and pushing until finally you’ve made it through and you’re face to face with Robin, a smile breaking out over her face before she’s rushing forward to pull you into a hug. 

She’s drunk, you can tell and she confirms as much when she pulls back and looks around to make sure no one is listening like she’s got some big secret. “Thank god you’re here! I don’t think I could take another second of Steve’s whining. We’re both three sips away from blackout drunk because I made it a game between the two of us.” She’s talking so fast and bobbing her head along that you can barely make out what she’s saying. But before you can ask her to clarify, she is. 

“Yep. Told him that everytime he mentioned you or asked about you we’d both have to take a drink. Bad game idea now that I think about it, tomorrow is gonna suck but it was worth it. He’s awfully quiet when he’s not blabbing about you. Jesus Christ I don’t even want to think about how many times I’ve heard the word bunny in the last hour and a half.” 

Your heart is thudding dangerously fast in your chest, a blush working its way up your cheeks and you think if you’d fall to the ground if it wasn’t for Robin still clinging onto you. 

Before you can even begin to dissect her words you’re pushed forward, a curse falling past your lips as you grip Robin’s arm hard enough to make her wince and curse at the person behind you. It doesn’t take long before you figure out who it is though. 

“There she is, there’s m’girl.” He’s right there behind you, arms wrapped around your waist and head tucked into the crook of your neck. You can feel his fingers digging into your tummy and his hair tickling your cheek as he nuzzles closer to you. His deep, gravelly voice sends a shiver down your spine and you can’t help but to relax into him, eyes fluttering closed as his words wash over you. 

He’s drunk, beyond drunk, and you know that but it doesn’t mean your thighs don’t clench at the quick, wet open mouthed kisses he’s leaving on the side of your neck before you can manage to pull away and turn around to get a good look at him. 

Turning around was a bad idea. Oh my god it was such a bad idea. Because when you do you’re faced with the sexiest, most devastatingly hot version of Steve you’ve ever seen in your life. 

Holy fuck. You’re fucked. So fucked. 

He has on a button up that hugs his arms so nicely you could cry, the first few buttons undone and showing off a patch of chest hair you didn’t know he had but is now making your eyes widen and fuck there goes another pair of panties. There’s a sheen of sweat over his neck and chest where he’s been dancing and his eyes are dark, pupils blown and almost crazed looking as he takes you in. Those lips you’ve dreamed about for weeks are parted just so, his tongue quickly swiping across his bottom lip and you’ve never seen anyone so perfect. Your hands are clenched at your sides as you drink him in, his hair a mess like he’s run his hands through it a million times tonight and his forehead and neck are slick with sweat too. Goddamn it. Goddamn this party and goddamn Steve Harrington for looking like that. 

You’re so caught up in Steve that you forget Robin is there, hell you’ve forgotten you’re at a party filled with people at all, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Not when he’s looking like that or when he’s looking at you like that. Not when his hands are still on you and he’s giving you a smirk that would have any person dropping to their knees. 

Before you do anything too embarrassing you turn back to Robin who is now looking at you both like you’ve got 4 heads. “Rob, how are you getting home? I can walk you but I think you’ve both had enough fun tonight.” You ignore Steve’s whine from behind you, stomping his foot like a toddler at the prospect of having to leave. 

“Oh! Don’t worry about me, Nance is coming to pick me up. I just knew Harrington wouldn’t be concerned with anyone but you tonight so I called in for backup.” 

Looking back over your shoulder you see Steve with a shy smile as he gives you both a small shrug as to say “yeah and what about it”. Robin flies off before you can say anything else, assuming she’s seen Nancy or someone else she knows you turn back to Steve and take his hand in yours getting ready to tug him out the door when he stops you. 

“But you just got here, didn’t even get to have any fun with you, bunny.” He’s wearing an adorable little pout that makes you smile and you’re sure he won’t remember this tomorrow so you reach up to push his hair back, patting his cheek on your way. 

“You’re drunk, Steve. Like drunk drunk. I need to get you home and in bed, okay? We can do something tomorrow, promise, but I think you’ve had enough fun for tonight.” 

“Oh we’re going to bed? I can get behind that.” 

“You are going to your bed and I am going to my own bed tonight, Harrington.” You pinch his side to scold him but he doesn’t care, trying to come off as innocent as possible even though he’s got you reeling right now. 

If there’s one thing Steve knows how to be, it’s dramatic. “Ugh fine! But I am not leaving until you dance with me. Just one, baby, please?” 

“One, Harrington!” You huffed, pretending to be annoyed as he dragged you further into the crowd of people. You were too focused on him and the feel of his skin on yours to even pay attention to what song was booming around you. 

His hands were on your hips, yours wrapped around his neck as you swayed back and forth. You were almost positive this was not a slow song but you didn’t care. Everyone was practically dry humping around you, but when he flashed you that ‘King Steve’ smirk you couldn’t help but to smile back, shaking your head at him. 

He pulled you closer to him, leaning down to talk to you over the loud music and chatter from the people pressed in on every side of you. 

“So pretty, you know that?” 

“You’re drunk, Steve.” 

He scoffed, acting like that offended him. “And? That doesn’t make it any less true.” 

Rolling your eyes you just shook your head, trying to look at anywhere else but him. It was hard acting like his words didn’t make your heart skip a beat, but he was drunk and now was not the time to dive into this. 

Gripping your chin between his fingers, your eyes were brought to his. “M’serious. Don’t roll your eyes at me like it’s silly. You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” 

Words stuck in your throat you didn’t know what to do besides look at him and why the fuck did it feel like you were about to cry. All you could do was nod, pulling back to create some sort of space between you two. You needed to breathe, to think and you couldn’t do that pressed up against him. 

“Your one dance is up! Let’s go, Harrington.” 

Dragging him behind you was like trying to drag a toddler out of a candy store. He was pouting, dragging his feet behind you and making this as difficult as possible. “Don’t call me that.”

“Call you what? Your name?” 

“Harrington. Don’t call me that, I don’t like it, like it when you call me Stevie.” You didn’t say anything, just kept walking. This was going to be the longest ten minute walk of your life. He took your silence as his cue to keep going, “I keep thinking about it—your hand on my cock, I mean. Can’t even tell you how many times I’ve got off to it in the last few days. And your lips, oh my god, your lips. Takin’ up all the space in my brain, pretty girl.” 

“Steve!” You turned around and smacked at his chest. “We are not talking about this when you’re almost blackout drunk, alright? We’re taking you home. That’s it, you hear me?” 

“Yes ma’am!” He saluted you, doing a poor job at keeping his amusement at bay. It’s quiet between the both of you for the rest of the walk, up until you’re at his door and fumbling for his keys that he’s dangling above your head like it’s a game. 

“I’ll give you the keys if you promise to talk about this with me.” 

“Sleep outside for all I care!” 

“Oh cmon, please? Pretty please? You’re acting weird with me and I may be drunk but I’m aware enough to know I miss you, even if you’re right here.” 

Alright so maybe you hadn’t done a good job of pretending to be normal. Or maybe Steve just knew you better than you thought, which was scary. You needed to rip the bandaid off. Push your fears aside and try and work this out so you don't feel so miserable and alone all the time. 

“Tomorrow, okay? Go inside and get some sleep and I promise I’ll come over tomorrow and we’ll have a real conversation about this. I swear, Steve but we cannot do it while you're drunk off your ass.” 

Your ass that looks amazing in these jeans, might I add.

He huffed like a petulant child, rolling his eyes and dropping his keys into your open palm and moved aside so you could finally open the door. Pushing the door open you shoved him in, making sure he didn’t fall and then stepping back onto the porch. 

“I’m going, okay? Go drink a big glass of water and then go to bed. I’ll see tomorrow.” 

He flashed you one of those lazy smiles that made you melt, giving you a little wink as he leaned against his doorframe. “G’night, bunny. Can I get a goodnight kiss?” 

“Goodnight, Stevie.” 

All you heard as you walked down his steps was his laughter and the door closing, porch light turning on so you could see. You waited on the sidewalk until you were sure he locked his door. 

You were fucked, as per usual. 

                *********************************

It’s an hour before you’re supposed to be at Steve’s and you feel like you’re gonna throw up. You’ve spent the whole day pacing around your room and picking up the phone every fifteen minutes to cancel on him. 

But you can’t. You promised. And you’re cursing yourself for swearing anything to a drunk Steve, especially because he shouldn’t even remember it but of course he did! He called you bright and early, far too early for how drunk he had been, and reminded you about your “date” as he’d called it. 

You’d thrown on one of his t-shirts because the smell of him surrounding you was the only thing keeping you sane right now. You didn’t have the energy to get dolled up for him, too nervous about tonight to even think about it. 

You’ve gone back and forth about a million times on what to say and you’ve decided on the truth. You’d tell him you liked him as more than a friend, that you didn’t want to lose him but didn’t want to keep it from him anymore. 

And you’d hope for the best. 

God you were definitely gonna throw up. You’d cried probably five times today already, your hands had been shaky since you woke up, and you slept like shit. But you couldn’t keep going like this. Having little pieces of him was enough, at least you thought it was. But it wasn’t healthy and it wasn’t fair to either of you. 

The clock ticking away was taunting you. You needed to leave now and for the first time today your feet didn’t want to move. Cmon, be a big girl. 

                   ******************************

The walk to Steve’s was quiet but your mind was anything but. You were staring at his front door now like it would bite you if you got too close. He must have had a sixth sense, or he was watching from the window like a puppy because one second you're staring at his door and the next it’s thrown open and he’s there. He’s there and he’s beautiful and he’s glowing even though he should be glued to the bathroom floor from how much he drank. 

“How ya feeling, Harrington?” 

He tugged you in and closed the door behind you, that pout you’ve grown to love staring back at you. “Told you not to call me that, didn’t I? It’s Stevie to you.” 

He tried to pull you into him but you slipped past, running into the living room and plopping down on the couch, hearing his footsteps follow after you quickly. He sat down on the opposite end and you must have been frowning at that because he was quick to speak up. 

“I’m only sitting so far away because I actually want to have this conversation and if you’re too close to me I won’t be able to focus, honey. Don’t frown at me.” 

Eyebrows raised, you stared at him. He’d always been blunt with you, openly flirty but sometime in the last few days a switch had flipped with him too. You always thought it was casual but now he’s saying things that make you feel like he might want this too, might want you. 

“Oh, um, alright. That makes sense, I guess.” 

It was quiet and you were quickly realizing you weren’t the only one that was nervous. His fingers were running along the stitching of the couch and your hands were twisting in your lap. 

Fuck it, it was now or never. “I’m gonna start, if that’s okay?” He nodded at you and you cursed yourself for speaking up. But maybe if you just pushed it all out as quick as possible this would be quick and painless. Or maybe the ground beneath you would open up and swallow you whole. 

“I’m gonna say this and then we can go from there. I like you. A lot. More than best friends like each other. I don’t think best friends give their friends handjobs either but we did that and anyways I like you. If you don’t feel the same way that’s fine, I’ll get over it. I just don’t want to lose you, ya know? I get it might be awkward at first and it might take time but you’re just so important to me. The most important person in my life. And you’re so good, so special I would just be really sad if I didn’t have you. But it wasn’t fair to me or to you to keep it from you so here I am. Saying lots of shit. But the point is I like you and I want you anyway you’ll have me.” 

You were sucking in quick breaths by the time you finished, taking your quick and painless approach a little too far. You don’t think you actually took a breath during that little speech and that wasn’t doing anything to help with the lightheadedness you were already feeling. 

He was dead still and quiet beside you and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. Okay…maybe you had completely misread this situation. The longer it took him to speak the worse you felt. Maybe you could make it to the door before he even noticed you were up? He seemed stunned. Maybe you could make it? 

“Don’t run.” 

Could he read your fucking mind? What the hell was that? But you obeyed, still looking straight ahead and didn’t dare turn toward him. God this was horrible. There was a reason you kept your feelings all bottled up, because there was a chance it would go like this! You let them out and you feel even worse than you did before. 

“I’m sorry I’m not saying anything but I’m a little pissed off and trying to find a way to say this that doesn’t come out mean,” 

wait—what? Oh god. If you were lost before you were gone now. Pissed off? About what? “I’m pissed off because it sounds like you're writing this off as nothing before I’ve even been aware there was something there. And I’m pissed at myself because I’ve done a pretty shit job at showing my feelings for you. I thought it was obvious I was obsessed with you, but it seems you didn’t pick up on it and I’m pissed we wasted so much time tip toeing around each other when you could have even officially been my girl for a long time now.” 

You didn’t even know where to start with that. Where to even begin unpacking what he had just thrown at you. A little part of you wasn’t totally shocked but you’d really just done such a good job at convincing yourself it was one-sided that you felt like you’d just gotten a bomb dropped on you. 

“I…well I just thought you were that way with everyone.” 

He looked at you like you were stupid, and maybe you were. Your brain was trying to catch up to what had just happened and was doing a shit job when he looked at you as if it was common sense that he felt that way. 

“Have you ever heard me call anyone else baby, or sweetheart, or honey, or anything like that?” 

“Well no, but—”

“Am I ever hanging all over anyone else? Trying to get their attention and be as close to them as possible? Tugging on anyone’s hair or holding their hands or making them cuddle me?”

“I mean not that I’ve been but Stevie—”

“You haven’t, because all that shit is reserved for you, baby. I only call you those names, mainly because I love to see your cheeks get all pink. I only touch you like that. Only want you on me. I get so fuckin’ jealous when you’re looking at anyone else. I tug on your hair like a toddler just so you’ll look at me or tease me or scold me. You get that? It’s only you. I’m sorry I didn’t make that clear enough but I fuckin’ swear. You’re my best friend but you’re so much more. You’re my girl, my bunny, aren’t you?” 

One second you were feet away from him on the couch and the next you’re launching yourself across and into his lap so quickly he barely had time to wrap his arms around you before your lips were pressed against his. It was hot and messy and urgent as if one of you would disappear at any moment. 

“M’sorry, Stevie. So sorry. It’s not you, it’s my brain. I just get so scared and I just care about you so much I just…I convinced myself you didn’t want me that way and I got so deep in those feelings I wouldn’t let myself see any different. And I didn’t bring it up, I hid it from you and I’m sorry. Oh my god, I’m sorry.” 

You’re a mess in more ways than one, emotions all over the place and a million thoughts racing through your mind as you kiss him all over, desperate to be as close to him as humanly possible. 

“Shh, shh, don’t be sorry, baby. Nothing to be sorry for. I get it, but now you know that you can talk to me about this stuff, right? We’ll work through it together and figure out the tough shit. I’m not going anywhere. You got me, okay? I’m all yours, always have been.” 

Nodding against him was all you could do, too overwhelmed and wrapped up in everything him to think about anything else. He was so sweet, too sweet. He understood you, cared enough to make you feel seen and heard and god it might not the right time but you didn’t care, all you could think about was being with him, close to him, anything you could get. 

He was yours now and you would not waste another second. 

“Take me upstairs, please.” The words mumbled against his lips but he heard them loud and clear, his hand grabbing yours and dragging you behind him like a rag doll.

He’s barely got the door to his room closed when you’re pushing his back against it, dropping to your knees in front of him and fumbling your way through trying to undo his pants. You know you seem desperate but you are desperate. You’ve never wanted someone like you want him and you think that if you don't get your mouth on him in the next five seconds that the world might actually end. 

He’s cursing above you, hands hovering like he doesn’t know where to put them before the land in his hair, head falling back against the door as he squeezes his eyes shut. 

Somehow between your quick moving hands and some help from Steve you manage to unbutton his pants, wiggling them over his hips and whimpering at the way they catch on his thighs. Neither of you bother with getting them off, far too occupied with how he’s straining against his boxers. His hands move for them but before he can you’re leaning forward, kissing the outline of his cock through the material and the noise that leaves his mouth is enough to have you moaning against him. 

Your knees are already feeling sore against the hardwood floor but you think if he keeps making noises like that you’d stay here for hours. 

Chancing a look up at him while you place kisses up and down the length of him you’re met with his eyes instantly, a pained look on his face as he stares down at you. You leave one last kitten lick through his boxers before you pull back enough to really see him. “Are yo- are you okay? Is this not…am I not..I haven’t done this in awhile so I’m not sure if it’s any good, I’m sorry.” 

He’s got you up to your feet so fast it makes you dizzy and he’s suddenly looking at you with a look so serious you’re scared you’ve fucked this up. All because you wanted his cock in your mouth damnit! 

Before you can apologize again he’s gripping your arms, forcing you to look at him. “You are perfect, that was perfect and fuck I can’t even believe I’m actually turning down the chance to have your pretty mouth on me but I think if you did I’d cum instantly and that would be really embarrassing. So as much as I want it, and believe me baby I want it, I need this to last more than two seconds, alright?” 

The initial sting of rejection is quickly replaced with a feeling of pure lust, a craving for him so strong that it makes you falter in front of him. You can’t help the small pout on your lips, you’d really wanted to taste him, to watch him fall apart above you! 

“Don’t pout, honey. Y’can have my cock whenever you want. But right now all I’m worried about is making you feel good, okay?” He tugs your bottom lip with his thumb and you smile shyly, lips puckering against the tip of his finger and leaving a small kiss there that makes him smile fondly. 

But then an idea sparks and you decide if you can’t taste his cock you want to taste some of him at least. You watch with satisfaction as his jaw goes slack, eyes widening when you part your lips around his thumb, taking it deeper into your mouth and showing him what he's missing by denying you what you really want. Both of you stand there quiet for a moment, you just barely bobbing your head on his thumb and moaning around it when he presses down lightly on your tongue. He’s cursing under his breath, pulling his thumb from your lips with a pop and dripping your chin that’s now slick with your own spit. 

“Greedy girl. So needy for cock you’ll stand here and suck on my thumb. S’kinda desperate don’t ya think, baby?” 

Under any other circumstance you think you’d be crying from embarrassment but even though his words are teasing, the way he’s looking at you is anything but. He’s got a mean mouth but his eyes are telling you how much he loves it, how lucky he is, how he’s just as desperate if not more. 

“Just yours,” His brows are furrowed and a piece of hair falls over his forehead and you clarify quickly, feeling a little shy under his stare, “just your cock, Stevie.” 

Realization dawns on him he feels a twitch in his boxers as he stares at you, lips messy with spit and eyes dark just like his. “Just for me, huh?” He can’t even make the adoration for you, a warm sensation running through his body as you nod at him with pink cheeks. 

He doesn’t think there’s anyone as perfect as you and the fact that you’re standing here, telling him you need him—fuck how did he get this lucky? There must have been a glitch in the system, some sort of blip but he wasn’t complaining and wouldn’t question it with you hanging on him like you were. 

Determined to show you that he was just as needy for you, wanted you just as badly he took your shoulders, gently pushing you until the back of your knees hit his bed. You fell back with a plop, moving yourself back when he nodded his head at you in encouragement. 

Hungry didn’t even begin to describe how Steve was looking at you. He was staring you down as if he wanted to devour you, and you’d let him. No one had ever shown any interest in going down on you and it had become something you’d just kind of accepted you wouldn’t experience.

Steve was going to change that. 

“Can I, baby?” His hands hovered over your shorts. You’d come over in these and one of his shirts, not caring enough to get dressed up when your goal was to get it all off as quickly as possible. “Need to see your pretty little cunt, bet she’s aching for me, yeah? But she’s all wet and needy and begging for my attention, isn’t she, bunny?” 

Jesus Christ, he had a mouth on him. His words alone had you clenching around nothing, hips lifting as you nodded quickly so he could pull your shorts down. He left your panties on and you cursed, a wave of embarrassment flooding through you, mostly because you knew he’d see how wet you were, how wet you had been for weeks because of him. 

Shorts thrown somewhere on the floor behind him your thighs closed quickly, head resting on your shoulder as you leaned up on your arms for support. You’d need all the support you could right now. But Steve wouldn’t have any of that. His tongue clicked, a reprimand for depriving him a look between your thighs when it’s all he’d been thinking about for months. He knocked your knees apart and if you weren’t so desperate to see his reaction your head would have fallen back on the bed. 

You’d have thought it was Christmas morning the way he was grinning. Or as if he had just won the lottery! And to him, he had. 

“Messy messy girl. Poor thing, I’ll have to fix this, yeah?” 

It was all you could do to nod at him and it was only seconds later that he dove in, taking one long, slow lick up the front of your panties, pressing a gentle kiss where your clit was that had you falling back and throwing your arm over your eyes. He was gonna be the death of you. 

Apparently that one little taste was enough to dissolve whatever will power he had left because in the next ten seconds your hips were lifted and panties were practically torn down your legs. He took no time at all getting himself back between  your thighs, hands on either one holding them apart so he could bury his face there. 

If it didn’t feel so good you’d be pissed that this was what you’d been missing out on, but when Steve was sucking your clit into his mouth with the right amount of pressure to have you seeing stars, or using his fingers to stretch you for his cock, you couldn’t have cared less about anything or anyone else. 

You’d also never seen Steve so quiet. Well, he wasn’t exactly quiet, you could feel his muffled moans and pleas against you as you gripped his hair in your hands and pulled him closer, but he was more content than he’d ever been. 

You’re not sure how you manage any thoughts, let alone words right now when he’s making you feel so good and you can feel that burn in your tummy that tells you you’re close, but you still find it in you to tease him. 

“Can’t believe this was all it took to shut you up, should’ve done this ages ago.” It doesn’t come out as clean and quick as you wanted, it takes about 30 seconds to manage the words. But you’re proud of yourself for teasing him but immediately regret it when he pulls away, a whine leaving your throat as you try and tug him back. 

“Y’sure you wanna be mean to me when it’s my mouth you’re grinding against?” 

His words ooze with confidence and you know it’s well earned because he’s got you in the palm of his hand. You take the opportunity to get a good look at him, eyes almost black and hair all messy from where you’ve pulled and tugged for the last 15 minutes. He’s wearing his signature smirk and you gasp at his swollen lips and chin that’s quite literally dripping wet with you. 

“M’sorry, sorry. Please keep going, I was so close.” He doesn’t make you beg, even though at this point you’d get on your hands and knees if he asked. He goes right back to work, picking up the same pace and you know it won’t take long before that burn in your belly engulfs you completely. 

He takes instructions well, groaning his acceptance when you tug him back to your clit, nodding his head in understanding. “Gonna cum, gonna cum, you’re gonna make me cum, Stevie,” You’re babbling now, hoping he can make out some of your words as you move your hips faster and harsher against him, chasing your own release. 

You can’t hear what he’s saying but can feel his mouth moving against you. He never truly shuts up. And you don’t know it but he’s begging for you to cum. It sends you over the edge anyways, thighs closing around his head tightly as you gasp and your body locks up. It’s too much and not enough, you’re buzzing from head to toe and then you feel him helping you through it, small little licks to your clit, his hands rubbing at your trembling thighs as you try and catch your breath. 

“Fuck” Steve might have said it, or it might have been you, you’re not sure. Chest heaving you can’t do anything but stare at the ceiling above you, trying to get your heart to slow down so you can make sense again. 

All of a sudden your line of sight is cut off by a mop of brown hair and two sparking eyes hovering over you, a smile so big you’re sure his cheeks must hurt. “Best meal of my life, baby.” His chin is still wet and you move your hand up to collect some on your thumb, sticking it in your mouth with a hum and he doesn’t waste any time before he’s diving down to press his lips against yours. Tasting yourself on his lips makes you moan and it’s then you feel his cock against your stomach, hot and slick and begging for attention. 

Pulling away you look down between you and see that sometime between getting you on the bed and making you cum he’s taken his boxers off. When you look back up to him he smiles sheepishly, 

“Sorry they were diggin’ into me and I was about to go crazy. But I can…I can put em back on. Don’t want you to feel like we have to do anything else, I’ll happily go back between your thighs and spend the rest of my life there, if you’ll let me.” 

Grabbing the back of his neck you pull him down until your foreheads are pressed together, shaking your head at him like he’s crazy. “Stevie, not to be too forward but I refuse to leave this room without you fucking me.” 

He laughs. It’s loud and it makes you giggle and your noses are bumping against one another and he’s pressing kisses to your cheeks and the corner of your mouth and he’s backing up just enough to get a good look at you, “Thank fucking god.” 

Steve was big. Not that you were complaining but damn you were a little worried about how that was going to fit inside of you. A little part of you was worried about him fitting but a bigger part of you just really wanted this to be good, for both of you. It was cliche but you wanted fireworks and passion and to feel him for days after. 

You weren’t a virgin, you’d been with a few guys over the years and sex for you had always just been…okay. Yeah, sometimes it was good, but it was never how you’d read in books or heard on tv shows and movies. Steve didn’t know it but he had just given you your first orgasm by sometime other than yourself! It had never been the mind blowing, toe curling experience you thought it would, but if anyone was going to break the standard, it was Steve Harrington. 

He must’ve seen the worry on your face, moving to lay beside you with his hand rubbing comforting circles on your hip. “You sure you wanna do this, sweetheart? Say the word and we can watch a movie or get late night pizza, whatever you want.” 

“Can this be one of those times where I say a bunch of shit and you don’t judge me or laugh? Just listen to me.” He nodded at you, all hints of teasing and playfulness gone. You’re sweet Stevie. 

“Ok, so, right okay—so I’ve had sex before and it’s been alright but I don’t want alright with you. I want hot and sweaty amazing sex that I’m gonna think about for the rest of my life, ya know? And I don’t doubt that you can deliver, trust me I’m sure you can,” you lean towards him as if you’re not the only ones in the room—the house, and whisper like it’s a secret, “you’ve seen your dick, right? That thing is massive and you seem like you know how to use it!” You sit back up then, only a little embarrassed at your rambling before you continue, “so I guess I’m more worried than I won’t be able to deliver and I just really like you and want this to be good for you and I think I’d never recover if you didn’t have a good time and—”

He stops you with a hand over your mouth, eyes wide and a small smile playing on his lips as he stares at you. “Take a breath, baby. Now.” 

Your mouth drops open as soon as he removes his hands, your mind going black at the tone of his voice, so stern and deep. But you do as he says, taking a deep breath and holding it for a few seconds before letting it out slowly, looking to him for confirmation that you’ve done something right. 

“Good girl, there ya go. Now, I didn’t want to cut you off but you were gonna run out of air if I didn’t. It’s my turn to talk now and you’re gonna listen, right?” You can’t help but just nod at him, your mind trying to catch up to your body as his words sink in and wash over you. 

He rubs his thumb against your cheek to soothe you and it does the trick, your pulse calming down enough that you can breathe again. 

“You do remember about half an hour ago when I stopped you from putting this pretty mouth on my cock because I would’ve cum in seconds, right? Because I’m sorry that I haven’t made it clear to you that this is already the best experience I’ve ever had. Fuck, baby, having your hand on me a few days ago was the highlight of my year. Eating your sweet little pussy is gonna get me off for the rest of my life. This is only good for me because it’s you. You hear me? You don’t need to be nervous or worried about me enjoying this, I swear to you I’m havin’ the time of my life.” 

You don’t realize you’re crying until he’s wiping away your tears with his thumb, cooing at you and making your heart thump so hard you can feel it in your toes.

“I love you, ya know.” 

This time it’s his turn to be stunned into silence but it only lasts a few seconds before he’s kissing you, or he’s trying his best, it’s hard to kiss when he’s smiling so big against your mouth. “Oh I know, and I love you too, more than anything.” 

You feel like a teenager, giggling and peppering kisses all over his cheeks, so in love and just so breathtakingly happy it’s almost unbelievable. You feel silly now that you ever worried about anything, not even he’s so perfect and sweet and kind and yours. He’s worth every minute of panic and stress though. 

Then he opens his mouth and you remember that you’re still embarrassingly wet and that he’s still throbbing against your hip. 

“And don’t worry about my cock, bunny, we’ll make it fit.” 

His thumbs slide under the band of his boxers and he looks to you, making sure it’s okay that he finally peels them off. When you nod he wastes no time in dragging them over his hips and down his legs until he’s kicking them off and onto the ground, both of you letting out a sigh of relief. 

You thought Steve’s cock was pretty the first time you saw it but that’s nothing compared to now. He’s painfully hard, tip red and leaking, smearing precum where it lays twitching against his belly. You hold a little resentment toward him now for not letting you put your mouth on him. You think there might even be some drool on your lip as you look at him. 

He’s watching you stare at his cock and trying not to cum on the spot, hands clutching his comforter do tight he might rip it. He has to move his eyes away from you so he can attempt to focus, too worked up to really make any sense right now. 

“Honey how do you…what do you think would be better for you?” He wants this to be as painless for you as possible, only wants for you to feel good. He’d twist into a pretzel if he thought it would be better for you. 

“I’ll uh, I’ll be on top. I think that’ll be best so I can um—I think that’ll be good for me.” He’s not totally sure that his eyes don’t cross at the thought of you riding him, he has to pinch the bridge of his nose hard just to right himself. 

You urge him to scoot back so he’s laying down, head resting against the headboard, legs stretched out in front of him. You move yourself to straddle his thighs, worried that you won’t be able to think straight. In a flash of bravery you whip off his t-shirt and watch as his cock twitches and his mouth drops open. His hands immediately find your painfully hard nipples, tweaking them softly and watching as your stomach clenches when he does. 

“Prettiest fuckin’ tits, swear to god. Jesus Christ you’re gorgeous, honey. All of ya, every inch.” 

“Can’t wait anymore, Stevie, need you in me please.” The words are barely out of your mouth before he’s reaching towards his nightstand and you don’t know what comes over you but before you can stop it you reach out and grab his arm. Neither of you say anything, staring each other down and waiting for someone to speak, to move. 

Fuck. You don’t know why you did that, obviously you should use protection. But…you’re on the pill and haven’t been with anyone in what? A year and a half? And the thought of feeling him…all of him—fuck you know it’s stupid but you can’t care about it right now when he’s so pretty and his cock is so pretty and you just want him. 

He speaks before you muster the courage too, voice sounding strained, “Baby..are you saying…are you sure? It’s been awhile since I’ve been with anyone and m’clean I swear but—fuck are you sure?” 

“M’sure if you are. Just wanna feel you, Steve.” 

He could weep. He could fall to his knees and weep. Here you are, prettiest girl he’s ever seen and not only do you even want to have sex with him but you want to do it raw—fuck he wasn’t gonna last. 

“Fuckin’ unreal, you are unreal.” 

Instead of answering you took the opportunity to move forward and hover over his cock. Some of your confidence drained, all of this feeling much more real now that he was inches away from you. But you knew there was nothing to be scared of, this was Steve. Your Stevie. There was no one else you trusted like him and you knew he’d take care of you above anything else. 

He took hold of himself, moving down a little so he could run his tip up and down your slit, coating his cock and hissing at the contact. Your grip on his shoulders stuttered when his tip bumped against your clit and you swear your whole body shuddered. 

“Feels good doesn’t it, baby? I’ll just hold still and you go at your own pace, we’ve got all the time you need.” You lifted up a little, his tip nudging at your entrance and as you sank down your lips fell open into a silent moan. Your eyes were shut but you could feel Steve watching you and you could feel his grip on your hips tightening as you moved painfully slow.

“Doin’ so good baby, so so good.” You preened under his praises, body relaxing as you opened up for him. You knew it would be a stretch, but it was good. The burn of him filling you up turning you on even more, if that was possible. Being this close, this full of him made you feel light headed in the best way possible. 

It took a few minutes but now you were fully seated, your hips pressed together as you dug your fingers into his shoulders, trying to keep your composure. It was overwhelming in the best way, your body on overdrive as you tried to accommodate all of him. 

He looked like he was overwhelmed too, little puffs of air coming out of his nose and his eyes screwed shut. He was still, not moving and for a minute you were worried but when you moved on him, his eyes flew open and his hands grasped your hips tight. 

“Wait, wait wait, baby—fuck. You gotta…I gotta…just don’t move. Please. Gimme a sec you feel too good, fuck.” You nodded, giggling a little and when you did you heard him gasp. Both of you could feel everything and it was so much. 

You sat still for what felt like hours but could have only been a minute or two before he looked at you, nodding slightly and you took that as your sign to start moving. Lifting up about halfway you dropped your hips back down, gasping at the sensation of him filling you up so well and the little curses slipping out of him only spurred you on. 

“Oh my god, Stevie. You’re so—I’m so full. So full of you I just..fuck.” You tilted your hips forward when you dropped down this time, his hip brushing against a spot inside of you that you didn’t know existed but lit you on fire. It made you go faster, sliding down hard and a moan so loud you should be embarrassed came out when your clit caught on the little patch of hair he had near the base. 

Steve seemed to be out of his mind, mumbling praises and curses under his breath. He couldn’t decide where to look, all the options too good to miss. He could look at your pretty face, all flushed and glowing from the sweat you’d worked up. He could look at your tits, so perfect and pretty and bouncing right in front of his face. Or he could look at where you connected. He could watch his cock disappear into you over and over again but that combined with how good you felt meant this would be over very soon. And he wanted, no needed, for this to last forever. 

As if his cock filling you up didn’t feel good enough, add in his filthy fucking mouth and his thumb he had rubbing quick, tight circles on your swollen clit and you were a goner. 

“Such a pretty girl. You really are my little bunny, huh, bouncing on my cock like you were made to do it. You were, weren’t you? Made for me, baby.” 

“Feels so good, honey. Snug little cunt feels like heaven.” 

“Gonna make me cum, you know that? Gonna cum with my girl on my cock.” 

It hit you out of nowhere, maybe it was him comparing you to a fucking bunny or maybe it was him calling you his girl. You’re not sure. All you know is one minute you’re there and the next your toes are curling and your face is buried in the crook of his neck, mouth open against his throat as you cum so hard your ears are ringing and you can’t feel or think about anything but him him him. 

Steve Steve Steve

“Fuckin’ shit, baby. M’gonna cum, gonna cum. Where do you want it, bunny? Huh? Please please please—shit.” You can’t even move your arms, let alone the rest of your body but you can feel how you’re still clenched around him and you can feel how both of your thighs are soaked. 

All you can manage is to lean up just a tad, lips brushing against the shell of his ear, “In me, want it in me, please Stevie.” And then he had one hand in your hair, holding you to him while his hips lifted and then stilled, groaning something obscene into your ear and if you weren’t so exhausted and overwhelmed that alone would have made you cum again. 

You laid there on top of Steve, his arms now around your waist as he pressed small kisses to your shoulder. Your legs felt like jelly and you really think you could pass out right here with him still inside of you. 

“Y’alright, baby? Still with me?” The words were tired and mumbled against your hair, both of you still kind of out of it but it was so good, you still felt so good. 

“M’okay, Stevie. Not to make your big head any bigger but Jesus Christ I think you just fucked me within an inch of my life.” He chuckled against you, teeth scraping over where your neck met your shoulder and you shivered. “Well I think technically you fucked me within an inch of my life, sweetheart.”

Pulling back just enough to get a look at him, his eyes were closed with a calm, relaxed look on his face. He must have felt you looking because one eye cracked open, a smile on his lips as he looked at you.

“What is it? Something on my face?” 

You shook your head and pressed a quick peck to his lips, threading your fingers into his hair and burrowing back into the crook of his neck. 

“No, I’m just happy, just love you.” 

“I love you most, pretty girl.” 

[starry-bi-sky]

Danyal Al Ghul: Incorrect Quotes and Miscellaneous Thoughts

Incorrect quotes-style snippets specifically for my danyal al ghul au here (which i really need to come up with a unique au name for atp). Because I thought it'd be funny. And also some miscellaneous headcanons thrown into the mix. Some context for the au: - Danyal is 5 years older than Damian (so 10 and 15) - Danny faked his death when he was 10. Talia knows and helped him with it. - Jazz, Sam, and Tucker do not know he's an ex-assassin.

-------- Snippet 1

Danny, dryly tapping his temple: I have, as the Americans say, irreparable psychological damage, right here.

Jazz, an older sibling first and foremost: well, it's good that you're self-aware.

-------- Snippet 2

Danny, aged 10, in the American foster planning to just age out of the system: *emanating Bad Vibes. Pure, Little Orphan Tom Riddle Energy*

Jazz, aged 12, coming in to adopt a new sibling with her parents: Him. This is my brother now :)

Danny: ...what

--------

Lilo and Stitch is Danny's favorite Disney movie. He watched it when he was 11 with Jazz when she was attempting to connect with him, and by this point Danny was becoming receptive to her efforts. They had a movie marathon in the living room one night.

Safe to say? It resonated with his little 11 year old heart strongly, and he related very strongly with both Nani and Stitch. He got unexpectedly emotional and hid in his room for the rest of the night. Jazz felt really bad, but it had the intended (but kinda unexpected) effect of him trying to be nicer to her afterwards.

-------- Snippet 3

Dash, aged 12, causing trouble again and getting intercepted by Danny: *scaling up a desk* AHHHHH! GET YOUR LITTLE FREAK, FOLEY!

Tucker: Hey! Danny is not a freak!

Dash: GET HIM TO BACK OFF

Tucker, was the kid Dash was messing with: ....whats in it for me

-------- Snippet 4

Danny, saying some questionably immoral shit: What. Why are you looking at me like that.

Tucker: Bro. I mean this as kindly as possible; what the fuck?

Sam: yeah, I'm with Tuck on this one.

-------- Snippet 5

Danny, ranting about Vlad: if it weren't for the laws of this land, I would have slaughtered him

Sam, painting his nails black: I'm pretty sure you'd slaughter him regardless of the laws of the land -- and quit moving, you're gonna mess me up.

Tucker: we've literally seen you debate yourself about this, Dan

Danny: ...you are correct, but it is the principle of things.

-------- Snippet 6

Vlad: I have experience my child, and the money and power attained through using those powers for personal gain, you say. I could train you, teach you everything I know! And all you have to do is renounce that idiot adoptive father of yours.

Danny, was already contemplating committing a Violence: ....

Danny, internally: I'm going to stab him *turns into Phantom*

--------

Funny contrast I realized between Danyal and Vlad that iirc I haven't pointed out yet is that imo, Danyal doesn't rely on his powers nearly half as much as canon Danny does. He falls back instinctually on his League training, and thus sometimes forgets to use his powers in battle. This was prevalent especially early on when he was still getting used to the whole 'halfa' thing.

He incorporates them more often after a year, but still for the most part relies on his own physical hand-to-hand combat. He trusts those skills much more than he does his powers. I'm not sure where he is on a technical level compared to canon, but just to stay safe I'll say he's similar in power skill as canon Danny. Perhaps a little more finessed than him because his League training would probably have him trying to figure out his powers as soon as possible.

But in summary? Danny is strong in hand-to-hand combat, weak in powerset.

Meanwhile Vlad is the opposite. I can't recall if he even knows hand-to-hand in canon, but it makes total sense to me that Vlad Masters wouldn't because he's so confident in his monetary influence and ghost abilities that he sees no need for it.

And he's kinda got some merit behind it. He's very powerful and has 20 years of experience to experiment and fine tune his powers. He's got bite to follow up his bark. He's perfected long-range combat and his ability to phase through walls makes it impossible to corner him, but if you can manage it, then one good hit could probably knock him on his ass.

So in summary, Vlad is strong in powerset, weak in hand-to-hand combat.

And it casts a good contrast between the two of them in that regard. Danny, as a fellow halfa, can follow Vlad when he phases through walls and is fast enough to land a hit on him. His league training as an assassin, albeit rusty, is still deep ingrained enough in him that he can hold up as a rather veritable threat against Vlad without needing his powers.

But Vlad can force Danny to use his powers more often through use of his own. The duplication is the first thing to come to mind: Danny's fast enough to dispel them on his own without powers, and smart enough that he could figure out who the real one is if given a few minute. But that's not always efficient enough.

Good foils for each other that way. Also Vlad's Plasmius design mimics Ra's juuust enough that he looks like Ra's knockoff loser second cousin no one talks about, which only fuels Danny's hatred.

-------- Snippet 7

Danny, ranting about Vlad for the first time: --and it's only made worse by the fact that the little ingrate resembles a cheap knock-off of my grandfather!--

Sam, choking on her water: he what--

Tucker, doing a spittake: HE DOES?

[pretzel-box]

woe, Reverse AU angst be upon ye (not necessarily a request, just a thought i had, but if anything strikes feel free to go ham :3 i also like to think about this with the og universe because i love feeling emotional pain 🧘🏾)

but instead of the reader having a classified file for themselves (& having it for sale), there are videotapes (or maybe different colored pendrives? CDs work too, i guess!!) scattered across the abandoned offices, and at first Sebastian isn't sure what to do with them, but then he meets p.ai.nter and they recognize those immediately, questioning why Sebastian is carrying that stuff with him in a concerned tone, and Sebastian just stares at the computer like, "??? okay, what's up with it?"

p.ai.nter is hesitant to show him what those hide at first, but eventually agrees to let him watch, then warns him that he is not going to like any second of it

Sebastian gets comfortable in front of the screen but is only greeted with an extremely heartbreaking scene– it's (now an experiment) reader visibly shaking as they stare in horror at their new body, unable to speak in any way while sobbing and whimpering, hugging themselves (or maybe their tail? guess it depends on the way readers want to look) and wondering what they had done to deserve this outcome, to be stripped of their humanity

now i personally like to think that the reader struggling to speak is something that comes with their body being altered, like everything is big so they're not used to any of it so really all they can do is cry and struggle to say a coherent sentence because it sounds like a garbled mess, but that is also me wanting to add salt to the wound because this is supposed to be sad ooooo ⚡⚡

anyway, at the end of it all (cause there was more than one video, a whole documentary on reader and the experiments done on them), Sebastian is left feeling too many emotions and he doesn't even know when he started crying but he is (since the reader he knows now is different from the one he just saw in the videos but deep down it hurts so much because that is the same person in different years of their life) and p.ai.nter isn't sure how to comfort him so they keep apologizing till Sebastian finally chooses to leave

next time he stops by reader's shop he can't even bring himself to stare at them properly because he's afraid he'll start bawling his eyes out, meanwhile, reader is just staring at him like ":3? no snarky comments or banter today wow what happened to him" unaware that he has seen The Horrors

that's all thanks for coming to my tedtalk

Authors Note: This is inspired by this request but not 1:1 written like it. This is pure angst and some gore. READ AT OWN RISK.

Tags: GORE, Angst, Reversed AU, mentions of syringes, drugs and operations.

Words: 2,7k

The sound of a click filled the room, followed by the small red light blinking on the video camera, indicating it was recording. Sebastian glanced at you with irritation as you held the camera—a little relic you'd scavenged from a deeper part of the facility—not too long ago. He shoved his hands deeper into the pockets of the leather jacket you had once sold him.

"And we are live!~ Say hello to the viewers, Seb!" you teased, shoving the camera playfully in his face. He immediately pushed it away with his hand, his scowl deepening.

"I get it, I get it," he grumbled, pointing at the camera with a mock glare. "You found a new toy. Now what? You planning to make a movie or something?"

You shot him a sharp look, the room growing colder as if you were subtly irritated by his comment. Sebastian could sense he'd hit a nerve, a rare feat considering your usual carefree attitude. But then, unexpectedly, you burst out laughing, clutching your stomach and flashing him the signature grin that always greeted him when he came to your shop.

"I’ve already starred in plenty,” you replied cryptically, your words hanging in the air with an eerie undertone. Sebastian opened his mouth to ask what you meant, but you cut him off with another sly comment. “Maybe you’re the next big star, Solace.”

After leaving your shop, Sebastian wandered through the halls of the Hadal Blackside facility, the encounter with you replaying in his mind. He’d grown to enjoy your company—your banter, your teasing, the way you challenged him. But today, something about your behavior felt off. Beneath the jokes and sarcasm, there was something else—something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. And that unsettled him like an itch he couldn’t scratch.

How could he be in a relationship with someone so different, so complex? You were like a puzzle with missing pieces, a riddle that refused to be solved. The more he thought about it, the more it nagged at him. His legs carried him on autopilot through the winding corridors, his mind consumed by thoughts of you.

It wasn’t until he found himself in the office segment of the building that he realized he’d been walking without really paying attention. His hand hovered over the keycard reader, and it struck him that he hadn’t even looked for the blue plastic card he needed to get through the next door. The desk was a mess of papers, ink, and tapes.

His eyes fell on an old, unlabeled tape, the kind they'd used for surveillance back in the day. Scrawled on it in red ink was a series of numbers: *Z-13.* The sight of it piqued his curiosity, a nagging feeling that it was significant. Without thinking, he slipped it into his pocket. He’d find a way to watch it later.

Sebastian rummaged through countless drawers, lockers, and cabinets, searching for the keycard, but instead, he kept finding more of those mysterious tapes. Each one seemed older than the last, covered in dust and marked with strange codes.

His practical side told him he should probably look through all of them, not just the one he had picked up. So, he gathered them into a makeshift box he'd found lying around and continued his search for the keycard, all the while wondering what secrets these tapes might hold—and what they had to do with you. He know the Name Z-13 was related to you.

If there was anything he knew for sure, it was that you were full of surprises. And maybe, just maybe, these tapes would help him understand you a little better.

By pure coincidence, Sebastian ran into P.AI.nter a while later as he continued through the seemingly endless corridors of the facility, taking casual steps despite the weight of the wonky box filled with random tapes he was carrying. The AI's sketched face flickered to life, its eyes narrowing with a curious gaze. "Quite the haul today, Sebastian," it remarked, its voice tinged with artificial cheerfulness. "Planning to deliver all of that to our trusty shopkeeper?"

Sebastian grunted in response, setting the box down on the floor with a thud. He raised his hands above his head, stretching to relieve the ache that had settled in his shoulders from lugging the heavy box around. "Can you play them?" he asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and exhaustion. It was a simple question, and he knew the answer even as he asked it—of course P.AI.nter could play a few tapes.

But as soon as the question left his lips, the room fell into an uneasy silence. P.AI.nter’s usual cheerful demeanor seemed to shift, its sketched form glitching for a moment as if processing something more than just data. The AI stared at Sebastian and the tapes, an uncharacteristic hesitation creeping into its expression.

"It's just a tape, Sebastian," P.AI.nter finally replied, its voice flat, devoid of its usual light-heartedness. There was something in the way it spoke—something guarded, almost cautious—that only fueled Sebastian's curiosity further. The AI’s reluctance was like gasoline on a fire.

“A tape I want to watch,” Sebastian shot back, his patience wearing thin. He was tired of the evasiveness, the constant roadblocks whenever he sought answers. He moved with purpose, selecting one of the tapes and sliding it into the nearest recorder, right next to P.AI.nter’s screen.

“I have to warn you, Sebastian,” P.AI.nter said, its tone shifting to something closer to pleading. The air between them grew heavy, the tension thickening as the tape began to whirl in the machine. Sebastian paused, the gravity of the AI's words weighing on him.

"You won’t like any second of it," P.AI.nter added, its voice barely more than a whisper. There was a finality in its tone, a sense of foreboding that hung in the air like a storm about to break. The familiar face of his AI friend got replaced by some white noise and then a black screen.

Sebastian’s heart pounded in his chest as he watched the screen flicker to life, unsure of what he was about to see but certain of one thing: whatever was on these tapes, it was something the facility—and P.AI.nter—wanted to keep hidden.

“Hellooo! I'm one of the new researchers here at the Hadal Blackside. I'm recording Tape Nr. XXXX in Containment Cell XXXX. Wish me luck!”

Sebastian watched as a cheerful person appeared on the screen, holding a camera up to their face. Excitement radiated from their eyes, and despite the poor quality of the footage, their energy was infectious. Some of the information on the screen glitched out, redacting key details as if the tape had deliberately scrambled those moments, keeping certain things obscured.

The person on the screen shifted their stance, and the camera followed their movement. “This is a video for my friend who was super excited to hear about my job. I totally stole the camera for this, so shhh, we can't get caught,” they whispered conspiratorially, a playful grin spreading across their face. There was something unsettling about their carefree demeanor, yet Sebastian couldn't help but feel a small flicker of amusement. The tape felt like a low-quality YouTube vlog, reminiscent of simpler times, with this familiar-looking worker goofing off for the amusement of a friend.

“They told me this is super secret stuff,” the voice continued, the lens panning around the containment cell. “But I just have to show you this.”

The video abruptly cut to another segment, the view shifting to reveal a massive anglerfish-like entity lurking behind an enormous glass wall. The waters it swam in were inky black, like thick oil, giving the creature an unsettling and eerie aura as it moved in the dark liquid.

“Isn't it cool?” the person behind the camera asked with an almost childlike wonder, pressing their flat hand against the glass. “They’re hiding this here! They do some voodoo fish shit in this facility. Even the human centipede would turn pale in envy.”

Sebastian froze as he watched the footage. The creature behind the glass was terrifying—a monstrous anglerfish, its grotesque form barely discernible in the murky waters. It was an unsettling sight, made even more disturbing by the fact that this reckless researcher was standing mere inches from one of the most dangerous entities imaginable, their tone light and casual as if they were commenting on the weather.

A chill ran down Sebastian’s spine as he continued to watch the video, his breath caught in his throat. The footage shifted again, but the image of the monstrous fish remained burned into his mind. His gut twisted with unease. What was this person thinking, standing so close to something so deadly? And why did they seem so familiar?

As the old tape continued to play, the weight of the discovery settled on Sebastian’s shoulders like a heavy boulder. Whatever secrets were buried in these tapes, he was certain they weren’t meant to be uncovered—especially not by him. Yet here he was, staring at a reality that seemed more and more like a nightmare. The things he saw so far in the blackside were not as terrifying as this giant monster that rested behind that glass wall.

The tape ended abruptly, and for a moment, there was only silence. Sebastian’s hands trembled as he reached down to turn the cassette over, the worn edges rough against his fingertips. He knew there were at least four more tapes waiting in the box at his feet, each one a potential gateway to another nightmare. His breath caught in his throat, a cold sweat forming on his brow. Still, his curiosity and a gnawing need for answers compelled him to continue.

With a shaky breath, he pressed the tape back into the player, flipping it to the other side. The screen flickered to life again, this time showing a cold, sterile operating room. Several figures in hazmat suits moved with practiced precision, their faces obscured by masks and goggles. The room was pristine, a stark contrast to the horror Sebastian knew was about to unfold.

“This is Experiment Nr. XXXX,” a calm, clinical voice narrated. “And our newest trial patient, Z-13, who volunteered for their transformation.”

Sebastian’s eyes widened as he recognized the person strapped to the operating chair—the same person from the earlier footage. They were bound tightly, their limbs secured as though they were a dangerous criminal. There was no mistaking the fear and confusion in their eyes, even through the drug-induced haze.

“Z-13 was administered XXXX, XXXX, and XXXX 20 minutes prior to the start of this procedure,” the voice continued with an unsettling detachment. “Their pupils are dilated, and the patient has entered a state of delirium, necessary for the next phase of the experiment.”

The camera zoomed in on the bound figure, their eyes bloodshot and unnaturally wide, darting around the room in a frantic, unfocused search for something familiar. Sebastian felt his stomach churn with a sickening realization—this was no volunteer. This was a person trapped, forced into an unimaginable horror. The idea of volunteering was just another lie, a thin veneer over a darker truth.

Sebastian’s fingers dug into his knees as he watched, his body tense with dread. He knew what was coming next, but the tape did not shy away from the gruesome details. The hours that followed were a blur of pain and suffering, each tape more harrowing than the last. Scenes of torn flesh and oily blood filled the screen, detached limbs falling to the sterile floor with sickening thuds. Each cut, each scream was more unbearable than the last. And those eyes—those haunted, slowly awakening eyes—followed Sebastian throughout each frame, pleading silently for mercy.

With each passing minute, it became painfully clear that the drugs were losing its effectiveness and the person that was tied to the chair gained the ability to feel every single thing that happened there. The delirium ended and the terror began.

The scream tore through the speakers with such intensity that Sebastian flinched. It wasn’t just a scream—it was a raw, visceral sound, a guttural cry filled with a mix of agony, fear, and desperation. It was a sound so primal that it clawed its way into his very bones, settling there with an uncomfortable weight. It was the worst thing he had heard in ages. Every nerve in his body screamed in empathy for the poor soul on the screen, the person whose existence had been reduced to nothing but a vessel for pain.

“Silence them,” a cold, emotionless voice commanded from off-screen.

Almost immediately, a set of cruel, metal clamps were forcefully shoved into the patient's mouth, prying it open with a brutality that made Sebastian wince. These were the kind of instruments used for people with severe jaw fractures, designed to immobilize and inflict pain to prevent further injury. But here, they were used as a tool of torture, a means to quiet the suffering that had become too loud for the facility’s sterile walls. The rough, unyielding metal dug into their flesh, tearing into the soft tissue of their mouth, blood trickling down their chin. The sight was gruesome, and Sebastian could feel his stomach twist with disgust.

The person’s screams were abruptly cut off, replaced by a wet, choking gurgle. They were left to suffer in silence, their jaw now clamped shut, the metal rods cruelly keeping it from moving even a fraction. Tears streamed down their face, their eyes wide with terror and pain, every muscle in their body taut with agony.

And just when Sebastian thought it couldn’t possibly get any worse, the camera shifted. The surgeon, clad in a sterile suit that seemed to mock the very concept of humanity, moved over the patient's eyes. Those eyes—once filled with life, now wide with shock, pain, and a frantic, animalistic fear—darted around in sheer terror. They were crying frantically, tears mingling with the blood on their face.

“We will now begin our final part,” the disembodied voice continued with a chilling detachment. “Removal of the natural human eyes to replace them with XXXX using XXXX and XXXX. The expected results will lead to an ability to see underwater.”

Sebastian’s breath caught in his throat as he watched a gloved hand reach for a long, thin needle, the metal glinting ominously under the harsh, fluorescent lights. The needle was positioned directly over the patient's eye, the sharp tip hovering just above the delicate orb. Their wide, terrified gaze seemed to plead with the unseen surgeons, with the camera, with anyone who might be watching—to stop, to help, to do something.

But there was no help. There was no mercy.

The screen flickered for a moment, and then, mercifully, the tape cut to black. The room was plunged into darkness, the only sound the low hum of the equipment around him. Sebastian sat frozen, his heart pounding in his chest, his mind racing with the horrific images he had just witnessed. His hands were clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white, the tension radiating through his entire body.

He was left alone in the darkness, his thoughts a chaotic whirlwind. The horror of what he had seen, of what had been done to someone who had likely never asked for any of this, crashed over him.

Then P.AI.nters face greeted him on the screen.

“They first drugged them, then they put in a row of ocean animal dna into their body.”

He was pointing out the steps that the surgeons did in the tape.

“They cut off their fingers, waiting for them to grow back. They took of the part from the knees to the feet…and then they noticed that it wasn't enough.”

Sebastian raised his hands, to put them over his ears.

“They lost both their healthy legs. Next was their ears, they cut it off. And then…they silenced them by closing their jaw.”

He could still hear P.AI.nter.

“And then they lost their eyes. The transformation from the human self to…the thing they are now…took 7 weeks. They attached and deattached plenty of stuff on them.”

For a moment he felt the urge to shut P.AI.nter off for good.

“Our shopkeeper went through much, don't you think?”

A loud sound filled the room and then there was darkness.

[ann1-wr1tes]

Leon Kennedy NSFW Alphabet

Dynamics: RE4! Leon Kennedy x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Spicy Alphabet

Warnings: Adult themes, obviously smut

A/N: Hey Leon simps...hope ya'll enjoy! Also if anyone wants to request any other characters for an alphabet, let me know!

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

-Leon is very good at aftercare. He always makes sure that you are comfy and well cared for. He'll run you both a warm shower and he honestly just likes to take his time, washing your body and making sure you are well cared for and clean. His favorite part is when he finally gets to lay back in bed with you and relax as you drift off to sleep.

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

-Leon loves your whole body honestly. If he had to pick one thing he'd probably say your hands. He likes to hold them and kiss them and its just something that's so grounding to him when he's fucking you and he intertwines his fingers with yours.

-On himself I think he'd be particularly proud of arms. He knows he's got some muscle on them and it just makes him feel strong.

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

-Leon would probably prefer something simple like your stomach if not inside a condom. If he has to pull out, he doesn't like making too big of a mess so your stomach will do.

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

-He's always wanted to wake you up with a little surprise. Whether that be waking you up with head, fingering you, or fucking you awake. Its just something about how pretty you look when you're sleeping next to him and you have your ass pressed against his dick...

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

-Since this is taking place around RE!4 he doesn't have a lot of experience. Of course he's not nearly as clueless as he was in RE!2 but he's too busy to have that much experience under his belt. Luckily he's a quick learner.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

-He likes it simple. Missionary or maybe Doggy-style. Missionary is just perfect, he can gauge all your reactions and see how you feel when he looks at your face and its just perfect. Doggy-style is nice when he presses his chest against your back and he gets to be as close to you as possible. His arms would be wrapped around your waist as he rolls his hips into yours.

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

-Not too goofy but he may crack a few horrible jokes here or there. He wants to keep the mood light and not too serious.

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

-Not too messy, not completely bare. Given his line of work and very limited amount of time he has at home, I think he tries his best to stay as well groomed as possible but he leaves a little bit and has a nice happy trail.

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

-In the moment he an get very sucked up into all the emotions and the feelings that happen during sex. His life is hard and he rarely ever gets to take the time to unwind so sometimes it can be emotional for him and he just wants to show you how appreciative he is.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

-Oh absolutely. When he's off on the other side of the world, away from you he's got to have some way to relieve stress. Its not that frequent but he does it often enough late at night when he's thinking of you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

-Definitely has a praise kink. He wants to hear how good he is doing for you, how good he is making you feel, and if you happen to tell him how strong he is or how handsome he looks then he might just cum right then and there...

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

-Usually at home in bed, but there have been a few instances where he has enjoyed some shower sex. You two just wanted to spend some time together after he got home from a mission and he couldn't help himself when he saw soap running down your skin and your pretty body standing there in front of him.

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

-Just you in general. He loves everything about you and god does he think you're hot. You barely even have to do anything to get him hard. You could probably give him a few good kisses and he'd start to get heated.l

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

-No guns, no knives, and I don't think he'd be huge into choking. Anything that could hurt you is a definite no for him. I also don't think he'd into the whole "daddy" thing..it kinda just weirds him out-

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

-He prefers giving. Its one of his ways he likes to show you how much he loves and appreciates you. Just having you lay back and spread your legs is one of his favorite things.

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

-Steady. Not too fast, not too slow. He likes to get the job done but not rush it too much. Of course if you want it rougher/faster he'd be happy to oblige and there are moments when he's feeling more emotional or soft so he'll be a bit softer and slow then.

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

-He doesn't mind them. Sometimes he'll get a call for work and he'll have to leave soon but he wants to fuck you on last time before he goes. I feel like it'd be a common thing between you too.

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

-He's neutral on taking risks. He's pretty much down for anything you'd like to try, so long as its within reason. But if you want to experiment then he's more than happy to give it a try with you.

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

-Leon has good stamina but the poor boy is tried most of the time. I think he'd be able to give you a good few long rounds before passing out lmao-

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

-He doesn't own any toys himself but if you had some and wanted to use them he'd be happy to. I think he'd be more eager to use them on you but if you convince him you'd probably be able to use a vibrator on him or maybe a cock ring-

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

-Doesn't tease at all. He's very giving and generous while having sex and he loves to make you feel good.

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

-Not too loud but not quiet. I'd say he's somewhere in the middle. He'll let out a few good groans and maybe some moans if you get him feeling really good.

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

-He loves it when you wear his clothes. Whether that be an oversized shirt or his jacket, its just something about seeing you in his clothes that gets him going.

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

-Definitely a grower. Leon when he's soft is a good 6.5 inches and when he's hard, he gets to a whole 7.5 inches. When hard his dick tilts slightly to the left but has one of two prominent veins running up his shaft.

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

-Pretty high honestly. He's always pent up from his job and stressed so one of the best ways he can relieve himself it by fucking you. Plus he just loves you and can't seem to get enough of you so his sex drive is decently high.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

-He tries to stay up long enough for you to fall asleep first but sometimes he's just so worn out that he either falls asleep with you or a little before you.

[dimepdf]

★  𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐓. + 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐎'𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀

masterlist. / taglist. / tip jar. synopsis. miguel o’hara and the nsfw alphabet challenge.

─── ☆ notes. anyone got a slime tutorial link to the new movie yet? . | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍

─── ☆ length. 1.5k (11 min read).

─── ☆ genre and warnings. +18 nsfw under the cut. minors dni | headcanon's | not movie canon | no movie spoilers | creampies | facials | cum play | jerking off | oral sex | eye contact | body worship | size kink | height difference | over stimulation | edging | jealousy | teasing | possessiveness | marking | biting | slight sub/dom | cuddling | let me know if I missed any | not beta'd.

A= Aftercare (what they’re like after the act)

Miguel isn’t the type to wind down that quickly, but he is extremely considerate of your feelings and well-being, most of the time he’s making sure you're okay. Especially since the last thing he ever wants is to make you seem unwanted after having sex with him.

That being said, it did take him a while to get used to the whole cuddling and comfort thing. You swear, at the beginning of your relationship, it was like trying to hug one big bear, but as you two spent more time together, he started to crave just having you wrapped in his arms and listening to your heartbeat every now and then.

B= Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers)

He could go on and on about how much he loves every part of you; seriously, you could tell because of how much he cannot keep his hands off of you, but realistically, his answer in the back of his mind is your mouth and thighs. He’s so down bad. 

Whenever you try talking to him, you always catch him staring at your lips like he’s just starving to kiss you. It's the same situation with your thighs as well. Sometimes you would be standing around the house in the mind of a conversation and suddenly feel Miguel’s fingers groping the plush of your thighs, gawking at your legs like he has no home training.

C= Cum (anything that has to do with it) 

Oh brother, this man is a mess in the head, he loves, I mean loves, to see you covered in his cum: facials, creampies, you name a place on your body for him to cum on, and he’ll do it with pleasure.

There’s just something about seeing your soft brown skin painted with traces of him all over your body, especially when he would cum inside you. His favorite thing to do is spread your legs and watch it spill out, only to push it all back in and give you another load. 

D= Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory)

Miguel is a very pent-up possessive man, no matter what he does, he just can't get enough of you, which leaves him feeling extremely needy whenever you're gone or just don't feel in the mood. He would just jack off at the thought of you to relieve himself.

E= Experience (do they know what they’re doing)

You had expected him to come from around the entire block from the easy he would pick you up and fuck you, but surprisingly, Miguel only really had a handful of partners in his past—nothing too extreme. 

F= Favorite position

He says he isn't really picky, yet somehow you always end up with your stomach pressed against some surface. Most of the time he sees no point in containing himself, plus weight isn't really an issue on his behalf. Whenever your legs give out from standing, he’ll just pick your ass up as if you weighed absolutely nothing and keep the same pace.

G= Goofy (how serious are they)

He likes to completely mirror your emotions or help you ease up more. He's very big on paying attention to the smallest detail, so if you're someone who feels a little anxious or nervous, no matter how many times you two have had sex, he needs to break that broadening act to crack a few dry jokes or shower you in compliments to make you feel more comfortable.

H= Hair (grooming habits)

This man is covered in dark hair from chest to toe. He doesn't really find the amount of body hair alarming, but he doesn't like to upkeep his pubic hair a bit, especially giving himself a trim whenever he wears his spider suit. He just doesn't really care that much to shave it all off, but if you asked him too, he wouldn't mind much.

I= Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty) 

He’s pretty reluctant to be overly smothering, with his inmate moments just coming out of the blue, especially with his cold attitude. Most of the time, when you think he’s tense, he’ll switch, turn around, and start praising you. Sometimes he doesn't realize it, but most of the time it's always after he feels like he went a bit too far with degrading you, so he switches up just to even it all out with praise and saying how good you make him feel while holding eye contact.

J= Jack off (do they masturbate and how often)

Miguel just has the habit of stressing himself out all the damn time, and half of the time it's always over him being too worked up. Whenever he has a moment alone and you just can't be there, he likes to turn to his memory of you to help work off some of his tension.

K= Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual)

Marking. I’m talking biting, scratches, hickeys, and God forbid Miguel sees the fingerprint bruises forming on your hips after he lets you ride him. Just the thought of having traces of him all over you makes that possessive switch in him go haywire.

Size kink. He’s a big guy through and through, and no matter what, he makes sure to remind you of your size difference. Blessed tall and broad, standing next to you, he’s practically a brick wall with the audacity to have a big dick.

Eye contact. Dear Lord, you better hope you laid down in one of his favorite positions and he hasn't fucked the common sense out of you by the time you're about to cum because Miguel will twist you like a hot pretzel and have you begging like your life depended just to hear you say his name and while you look into his eyes.

L= Location (where they like to get it on)

Anywhere with privacy and on every surface he could reach—floor, wall, upside—doing the splits, Miguel damn near used webs to find a way to have you against him.

M= Motivation (things that makes them tick/turn ons)

Miguel will get turned on by the smallest of things: you stretching near him, you wearing his clothes, you looking at him, you saying his name in a certain way, you, you, you. It's like he has brain rot, and you're all he can think about.

But he also likes it when you get angry or annoyed with him; there's just something about you snapping at him and trying to put him in his place that gets him going.

N= No (turn offs or absolutely won’t do)

Pegging, piss and poop. 

O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are) 

He loves giving more than receiving, mostly because he prefers it. There’s just something about teasing and edging you until you can't handle it anymore that leaves him wanting to lay you back and spread you open for hours on end.

But if you're offering, it's completely your loss. Miguel loves sitting back and watching you struggle trying not to gag or fit him entirely down your throat; either way, it's a free show for him.

P= Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed)

Whenever he’s feeling less merciful and wants to spice things up from the usual fucking you until your lace sweats off type sex, he loves to just see how long he can push you to the edge (which is a lot more days than you’d like to think), and he will be petty and take it super slow just to see your body twitch and squirm for more of his attention.

Q= Quickie (do they prefer fast and hard)

Even if you're the one offering quickies, it always ends up with you having to reschedule your plans.

R= Risk (do they like to try new things)

He’s open to new ideas but never really offers any himself. Miguel completely trusts you and is willing to do whatever you want for your pleasure, but just know that nothing at the end of the day will get him off but you.

S= Stamina (how many times they can go and how long each round lasts)

You have to remind him most times that you don't have the same enhanced superhuman abilities as he does. No matter how many times he tries to make you cum in just one night. You swear sometimes it's like you're fighting for your fucking life just to catch one five-minute break.

T= Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers)

Is the type to feel a bit insulted if you ever mentioned having one or using one until you would regret offering him to use a vibrater on you. Like you handed a murder a knife the moment he found your rose toy and figured out how to use it. 

U= Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves)

There is no sex without a bit of teasing with Miguel; he definitely pushes you a lot just to get a reaction out of you normally, so doing it in bed only comes naturally to him, and if you're not begging, he ain't giving. 

V= Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk)

He does not shut the fuck up! You will hear him, whether it's grunting on top of you, raspy whimpering in your ear, or talking you through it. Miguel is very vocal, just not as loud with his moans since he prefers to hear yours instead.

W= Wild card (random sin cannon of any sort)

Has absolutely no issues with letting you ride him with the suit on. 

X= X-ray (what’s down below in dem pants)

Slightly less tanned than his skin tone, with a slight curve to the left, and too girthy for his own good.

Y= Yearning (sex drive level)

Surprisingly, not that high, especially since he isn't a really big PDA person and the only time he ever gets worked up is in the comfort of privacy.

Z= Zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after)

Sometimes you have to trick him into falling asleep with you. Dude has really bad insomnia, but having you all cuddled up next to him really helps with his shit sleeping schedule.

🔖 ...

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