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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 4 months

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All Yours. Only Yours.

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x reader

Warnings: smut

It's been a little over 4 months since you and Lewis were forced to part your ways. It's been a little over 4 months since you have not been feeling yourself.

You weren't officially in a relationship, but you both fell hard for each other, you saw a future with each other. You were his baby girl, the only woman he wanted everything with. And you, you felt the happiest ever with him, safe in his arms, in his embrace. His kisses and his soft touch were your safe haven.

But 4 months ago all of that stopped when your father found out you were seeing Lewis. Your father completely lost it when he saw Lewis' arms wrapped around your waist and his lips pressed against yours. He couldn't stand the fact that his little girl was with a man 14 years older than her. He didn't see you as the woman that you were and so for him that relationship between the two of you was unacceptable.

At that very moment he forbade you to ever see him again. He told Lewis that if he ever approached you again, he would not be held accountable for his actions. He didn't care that Lewis was a seven time world champion nor that you would be financially secure with him for the rest of your life and you would never lack for anything. In his eyes, Lewis was a slob taking advantage of a young girl, his daughter, he despised it as much as he despised him.

You tried to protest, to convince him that Lewis' intentions with you were pure, that he would never do anything to hurt you and the most important thing that you love him and that you are truly happy with him. You begged, you were desperate, but that only made him angrier so that's when he gave you an ultimatum - if you choose to be with Lewis, you can forget that you have a father. It was either Lewis or him.

Your father's lack of understanding broke your heart, and it broke Lewis to see you like that. He could handle many things, but seeing his girl suffering was not on of those things. Lewis decided that he was not going to be the guy who stood between father and daughter and destroyed their close relationship.

He was forced to make one of the hardest decisions of his life and get away from you for good. He pushed you away, pretended he didn't want to see you again even though he was dying to. Deep down you knew why he was doing it, but that didn't ease your suffering one bit.

One night you cried so much that you physically felt pain in your chest. You could no longer spend your days and nights wondering where he was, what he was doing, if he had found someone new or if he was still thinking about you. You felt like your head was going to explode from all those questions you didn't know the answers to. That's when you found yourself knocking on his door late at night.

"Y/n? What are you doing here?" He asked as he opened the door. His eyes quickly filled with worry when he saw you crying in front of his door, but little did he know that as soon as you saw him, you instantly felt better.

He was standing in front of you, shirtless, looking down at you and barely holding back from pulling you to himself.

"Lew..I can't..I can't take it anymore.." You sobbed. "Don't you dare push me away and tell me that I can't be here because I don't wanna hear it!"

His eyes softened at your words and heart hurt a little even though he felt relieved that you still felt the same way about him.

"Baby girl.." He wiped away the tears under your eyes with his thumbs before pulling you into a tight hug. The tightest one yet.

"I miss you, Lew" You whisper as you wrap your arms around his neck your eyes darting to his lips. "Don't you miss me too?" You ask tilting your head a little as he brushes the hair out of your face.

"Of course I do" He sighs leaning his forehead against yours. "Fuck, I miss you more than I thought was possible"

"Then let's not miss each other anymore. Let's put an end to this agony and be together" Your eyes pleaded.

"Y/n, I want that more than life itself, but you know it's not that simple"

"I don't care, I've had enough. I won't let anyone else decide my happiness." You stated. "It's you that I want. Maybe some people will find it hard to accept, but it's 10 times harder for me to be without you than to fight with my dad."

Your words somehow brought peace to his soul. They encouraged him to fight for you and your future because for him there was before you, but there is no after you.

"I never thought you were gonna get that much under my skin. I should be pushing you away right now, telling you you should find someone else, someone better for you. I just can't seem to.. Or I don't want to. Or maybe both."

After what felt like ages, his lips finally met yours again. The kiss wasn't soft nor gentle, it was hungry and passionate, eager for more. "Come here" He slammed the door before patting the back of your thighs to which you responded by jumping up and wrapping your legs around his waist. You never broke the kiss as he led you towards his bedroom and laid you down on the bed.

He helped you take off your clothes leaving you only in your bra and panties. He took a second to admire your body tracing his fingers over your hip bone. "You're so beautiful, baby"

You smiled at his compliment tilting your head to get a better look of him as he started leaving kisses all over your stomach. Once his lips reached the hem of your panties, he stopped for a second to look up at you while his hand caressed your leg.

"Can I kiss you here?" He asked softly.

"Please kiss me there" You quickly granted his request.

"Spread your legs for me"

He left a kiss over the lace fabric before tugging them down your legs and letting them fall to the floor. He started slowly, licking you lazily up and down your folds. You were so eager for him that you could feel your wetness trickling down your holes. You clenched your legs around his head giving him a perfect opportunity to grab your ass and bury his face deeper.

"Ahh, yes, yes" You moaned as his tongue swirled over your clit. He was changing his pace, leaving quick kitten licks and then attaching his lips to your clit and sucking on it.

You started to move too much from the pleasure that was overwhelming you so he put his hand over your stomach to keep you in place. His other hand found your entrance and the tips of his fingers started teasing you circling around it.

"Please" You pleaded.

"Please what? What do you want, baby?"

"Put your fingers in me"

The sight of you lying so spread out for him, whimpering his name, begging him for more made him grind his hips against the mattress trying to create any kind of friction to his rock hard dick.

Granting your wish he pushed his index finger in. His eyes were stuck on your parted lips and closed eyes, he loved how responsive, how obedient you were to him. You arched your back as he added another one pumping them in and out of you. It didn't take long for your legs to start shaking and squeezing around his head.

"That's it baby, cum around my fingers"

As you finished, he pulled his fingers out of you and brought them to his lips to taste you not wasting any drop as he licked them clean.

"You did so good" He said softly into your ear before he kissed you.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course"

"Have you been with anyone else since we stopped seeing each other?" You were curious. You don't know how you would react if he actually was. It would hurt you, definitely, but you'd still want him as much as you do now.

"No, baby girl, the other side of this bed belongs only to you." He smiled caressing your cheek knowing there was no other girl for him except for you.

"And what about you?"

"All yours. Only yours." He assured you once again bringing peace to your mind and heart. "Gonna prove it to you right now" He said leaving sloppy kisses down your neck. "Gonna show you how much I missed you"

Pulling down his shorts and boxers, he pressed his dick against your stomach slowly grinding himself up and down while holding his weight on his arms just above you.

Your hand slid down taking him in your hand and giving him a few strokes. Your touch made him shiver and groan in response. It was as if he was waiting for your permission.

"Fuck me, Lew" You whispered. Your hand led him to your entrance and he wasted no time pushing himself inside of you. He left kisses all over your face and stayed still so you could get used to him. Once you felt ready he started slowly thrusting in and out of you.

"You feel how hard I am for you? Only you can make me this hard, baby" You moaned at his words wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Uhh, yes baby, fuck me, fuck me hard"

"Fuck, baby, you're so dirty" Lewis got a little carried away at your prompting so he suddenly and strongly increased his pace. Your breasts spilled out of your bra as he pounded into you and he couldn't resist but to leave mark just above your nipple. "So fucking perfect"

Your brought your hands to your boobs squeezing them and playing with your nipples and the sight drove him completely crazy. It awakened the animal in him so he pulled out only to push his dick all the way inside you. You winced pushing your hand at his pelvis as he hit your deepest spot.

"You okay, baby? Want me to stop?" He asked with concern.

"No, no it's just you're so big and so deep inside" You whimpered.

"Yeah, baby? You feel me here?" He smirked putting his hand over your lower stomach. "You feel me in your stomach? Just a little more love, I'm almost there. You gonna cum with me?" You nodded as he started slowly moving again.

"Take it just like that. My good girl taking my dick so well. So pretty. Can't get enough of you." You moaned as your hand slid down your stomach adding pressure to your clit while Lewis continued fucking you.

"You gonna let me fill you up?"

"Mhm" You moaned.

"Yeah? Wanna see my cum dripping out of your pussy" The pressure in the pit of your stomach started building up again with every dirty word that left his lips. "Gonna get you full of my cum, fuck" That's all it took to push you over the edge and come undone around him. You screamed out his name and his orgasm followed yours filling you up to the brim.

Both panting, sweating, you could hardly catch your breath as a strong sense of pleasure coursed through your bodies. Still deeply immersed in you, he propped himself up on his elbows hovering over you and leaving a kiss on your cheek. "Are you okay, baby?" He asked.

"I'm more than okay" You smiled rubbing his cheek with your thumb as his eyes lit up.

"That's good to hear."

"Let's take a shower and cuddle until we fall asleep, yeah?"

"Wait, before we do that, I just wanna tell you something"

"Tell me what?"

"I love you, so much" And there it was. His first I love you to you. The first time he said it out loud even though he's showed it in so many ways already. "Wanna spend the rest of my life with you"

"I'm not going anywhere, I promise. I love you, baby."

#lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton fluff #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 #f1 one shot #f1 smut #f1 imagine #f1 fluff #f1 blurb

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mikeo56 · 7 months

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I watched the uncensored video of US airman Aaron Bushnell self-immolating in front of the Israeli embassy in Washington while screaming “Free Palestine”. I hesitated to watch it because I knew once I put it into my mind it’s there for the rest of my life, but I figured I owe him that much.

I feel like I’ve been picked up and shaken, which I suppose was pretty much what Bushnell was going for. Something to shake the world awake to the reality of what’s happening. Something to snap us out of the brainwashed and distracted stupor of western dystopia and turn our gaze to Gaza.

The sounds stay with you more than the sights. The sound of his gentle, youthful, Michael Cera-like voice as he walked toward the embassy. The sound of the round metal container he stored the accelerant in getting louder as it rolls toward the camera. The sound of Bushnell saying “Free Palestine”, then screaming it, then switching to wordless screams when the pain became too overwhelming, then forcing out one more “Free Palestine” before losing his words for good. The sound of the cop screaming at him to get on the ground over and over again. The sound of a first responder telling police to stop pointing guns at Bushnell’s burning body and go get fire extinguishers.

He remained standing for an unbelievable amount of time while he was burning. I don’t know where he got the strength to do it. He remained standing long after he’d stopped vocalizing.

Bushnell was taken to the hospital, where independent reporter Talia Jane reports that he has died. It was about as horrific a death as a human being can experience, and it was designed to be.

Shortly before his final act in this world, Bushnell posted the following message on Facebook:

“Many of us like to ask ourselves, ‘What would I do if I was alive during slavery? Or the Jim Crow South? Or apartheid? What would I do if my country was committing genocide?’ “The answer is, you’re doing it. Right now.”

Aaron Bushnell has provided his own answer to this challenge. We’re all providing our own right now.

I would never do what Bushnell did, and I would never recommend anyone else does either. That said, I also can’t deny that his action is having its intended effect: drawing attention to the horrors that are happening in Gaza.

I know this is true because everywhere I see Aaron Bushnell being discussed online I see a massive deluge of pro-Israel trolls frantically swarming the comments in a mad rush to manipulate the narrative. They all understand how destructive it is to US and Israeli information interests for people to be seeing an international news story about a member of the US Air Force self-immolating on camera while screaming “Free Palestine”, and they are doing everything they can to mitigate that damage.

As I write this, there are with absolute certainty people digging through Bushnell’s history searching for dirt that can be spun as evidence that he was a bad person, that he was mentally ill, that he was steered astray by pro-Palestine activists and dissident media — whatever they can make stick. If they find something, literally anything, the smearmeisters and propagandists will run with it as far as they can.

That’s what they’re choosing to do at this point in history. That’s what they would have done during slavery, or the Jim Crow south, or apartheid. That’s what they’re doing while their country commits genocide right now. People are showing what they would have done with their response to Gaza, and they’re showing what they would have done with their response to the self-immolation of Aaron Bushnell.

I’m not going to link to the video here; watching it is a personal decision on which you should probably do your own legwork to make sure it’s really what you want. Whether you watch it or not, it happened, just like the incineration of Gaza is happening right now. We each own our personal response to that reality. This is who we are.

#genocide #aaron bushnell #gaza #palestine #us complicity and support for genocide

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schoenpepper · 28 days

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A Little Birdy Told Me~

Intro: You have two admirers, and someone spread the news that you're in a relationship with the other. How does it go?

Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, not proofread, super rushed, one french word idk, main cast minus ortho and lilia

A/N: Super random idea. I spun the wheel of names and paired them all up and thought, huh, what if they were love rivals? Here we are. Super rushed so it didn't make it to my WIP, too lazy to get to that Jamil songfic.

Masterlist

Silver (Vanrouge) vs Jamil Viper

Silver thinks you’ve made a great choice. Jamil is his peer, and he knows that the other will treat you well. He’s responsible, smart, good with- you’re not together yet? But whenever he sees you two, you always seem so happy with each other. Just friends? …Really? Don’t give him hope. Now that he knows he has a chance, he’ll do as a knight should do and fight for the right to court you, after all, his father taught him to go after what he wants in life, and he craves for your affection. So chivalrous and gentlemanly, he’ll have you swooning when he sweeps you off your feet without even realizing it. If you choose him, everyday that you’re together is another day that he treats you like the royal you are.

Jamil won’t fall for rumors that quickly, if at all. A student from Scarabia should uphold its core values, and that means he’ll find out the truth from you without even seeming too interested. Oh, you’re just friends with Silver? Hm, interesting. He’s saying this because he’s a little worried about your reputation, but someone’s been saying that you and Silver are dating. You should clear up the news, right? Hope you’re hungry, because he just happens to have too many leftovers every meal, everyday. Hey, if you’re struggling with that subject, you can come to his tutoring sessions with Kalim, one more person wouldn’t make a difference. If you choose him, you’ll be each others’ reprieve, his oasis in the desert.

Epel Felmier vs Azul Ashengrotto

Epel is shocked, flabbergasted even. Ya’ sure ya’ want that nasty two-faced (omitted bad words)? He’ll come up to you looking like an absolute mess, demanding the truth. He thinks there’s two ways the rumor could’ve happened in the first place, a) that slimy octopus spread it himself, or b) people are just straight up blind, clearly Azul is no good for you. He’ll amp up the antics now because he wants a fair fight, between real men! Y’know, his grandma taught him how to bake a real mean apple pie, you wanna try it? You have class together, he’ll walk you, and even carry your books for you! All that stuff about how beauty and charm can be power too, don’t be surprised when he uses it on you. If you choose him, he’ll make sure to cherish you always.

Azul is panicking. He’ll make an attempt to verify it of course, but oh what if it’s true and you’re actually together with that little—it’s not true, okay yeah he never believed it for a second—stop laughing, Jade! He doesn’t see Epel as competition for your heart, so he might be a tad bit more confident than he should be. That doesn’t mean he won’t further his efforts though. Fancy candlelit dinner for two where he’s both the chef and the person paying? Foolproof notes for your potionology exam? You need a new set of kitchenware for Ramshackle and you can’t afford it? Gosh, all your problems are miniscule, dear. As for repayment, how about you sign on the dotted line? If you choose him, he’ll put up the suave debonair facade before slowly letting you meet the smart, diligent, resourceful, and sensitive little tako in the tako pot.

Vil Schoenheit vs Idia Shroud

Vil doubts its authenticity right away, by the seven, you wouldn’t really choose Idia of all people, would you? While his reasoning is rather condescending, he finds that he’s not wrong at all, it was just some rumor spread by those with nothing productive to do with their time. If you think he’d ever find Idia threatening in a romantic rivalry, you’d be horribly wrong. Might be a little too sure of himself, but he does as he always has. He sends you products he swears are just extra from PR deals (they’re homemade don’t believe him), takes you shopping because potato, your outfit just isn’t it. He even strings you along to some gigs he has every once in a while. Feel honored, he doesn’t do that for just anyone, he’s a world famous model and actor, after all. If you choose him, you’ll always be pushed to be the best you that you can be.

Idia gets it, really. Anyway, how is he to compete with the sparkly and strict Pomefiore housewarden when Vil is practically perfect or whatever and Idia’s—what’s that, Ortho? You did some digging and it was just fake news? Lol, of course Idia didn’t believe the rumors lmao he’s not some normie who just up and believes lies, information literacy and all that, you know? Plus, he’s a genius, so he’d never ever fall for something like that. Doesn’t leave his room even after everything, but you know that gacha you like? Yeah, you have like a bunch of currency in it now, don’t worry about it. Does your daily grinding and in-game events with you, and if you really insist, then maybe he can go out with you to that movie adaptation that just came out the other day. If you choose him, he’ll let you chill with him whenever wherever (plus his wifi’s nuts).

Ruggie Bucchi vs Cater Diamond

Ruggie is confused, or maybe more nervous. Is it true? He goes about his day and pretends everything’s the same as it’s always been. Hey, Cater’s a real good guy, so you lucked out by snagging him, you know? Haha…it’s not real? Oh thank the seven (no he wasn’t about to cry). That threw him for a real loop right there, and it only forced him to own up to the feelings he’d desperately tried pushing back. So uh, if you need a guy to help out with chores, Ruggie’s real good at getting his hands dirty. Plus, if anything needs repairs, he’s never had enough money to call professionals, so he’s gonna be a dab hand it whether it be the pipes or the wires or the gas. If you choose him, you’ll get a lifetime of laughter and smiles.

Cater skips the ‘everything is ok’ thing and gets right to the ‘crying in his room’. He’s good at covering up his feelings, but he really does like you a lot, so spare him if he’s a little sensitive about this, ‘kay? He’ll be back to normal in no time! Anyway, Ruggie’s nice, if not a bit too clever about the wrong sort of things. So Cater hopes that you two are happy…or whatever. Trey needed to barge into his room to break the news because he wouldn’t leave, and there’s just so much relief, like he can breathe freely again for the first time in a long while. He’s bringing you to all the most cammable spots in town, doing things ‘besties’ do while posting all about it constantly. The guy to share memes and try the newest crazes with. If you choose him, you’ll always have fun at the forefront of the most popular things.

Leona Kingscholar vs Deuce Spade

Leona doesn’t even bat an eye. So? Who cares? As if his herbivore would ever choose that blue-haired little punk. He’s correct in his assumption, but also kind of a jerk about it. Another one to not see the rumored person to be competition at all, but hey, it’s Leona, he’s just smug like that (and way smarter than he’s given credit for). While you do deserve a proper courting and all that jazz, he’s not exactly good with words, so his wallet will have to do as a love language. What, you got a problem with that? Of course you don’t, Crowley never gives you anything nice, but Leona’s a prince, you know? 100% uses you as a pillow whenever and wherever he naps, as long as you’re near, you’re cuddling him and falling asleep in his arms. If you choose him, you’ll always be secure, both financially and in his love for you.

Deuce drives down to the beach, and when he thinks he’ll start shouting in anger, he may or may not break down in sobs instead. But it’s a good choice, he admits, because Leona’s tough and he’s got power and money, and Deuce can only really claim one out of those three things. Almost shouts in happiness when you deny the rumor to his face. So like, you’re single? Then how about studying together? He’ll make you proud by showing you a perfect test score, promise! So cute when he tries to impress you by lifting stuff for you, or opening doors for you, or buying you snacks from the cafeteria when the line’s horribly long. Even offers to introduce you formally to his mom (tell him it’s too early). If you choose him, he will literally protect you with his life.

Riddle Rosehearts vs Jade Leech

Riddle believes the news to be preposterous (he almost chokes on his tea). But, he prefers it to be verified before he takes any sort of action, and when you clear up the air during a tea party he’d invited you to, he feels uncomfortably happy. Jade isn’t anything bad, don’t get him wrong, he rather likes the polite and well-kept young man, but Riddle’s a better option, yes? Suddenly, you have your own exclusive throne at unbirthday parties. What did he hear about you struggling with a subject? He’s an outstanding housewarden and NRC student, so he’ll lend you his freshman notes if you wish for it. You really enjoy certain snacks and a specific kind of tea, you say? It just so happens he enjoys them too, so you can expect your favorites during tea time everytime. If you choose him, a structured and dignified life awaits you.

Jade smiles. What, you don’t seriously think he’ll believe rumors, hm? He keeps tabs on you, of course he knows your relationship status. Riddle is no threat to him or his feelings for you and thus he was never worried for a single second (lying liar who lies). Starts to scope out your possible feelings for him after the incident, also a small (big) possibility that he comes up with some overly elaborate scheme for you to confess to him instead of the other way around. Will fool you into thinking you fell first, and will definitely make you think you fell harder. Dinner dates, hikes, camping—he’s prepared for anything and everything, you don’t need to worry, dear. If you choose him (you will, he’ll make sure of it), prepare for a life of adventure.

Jack Howl vs Ace Trappola

Jack is rather despondent; tail hanging sadly and ears flat on his head. He’ll overthink this, and maybe go for a run to clear his head. Well, you and Ace have always been close, but he thought he had a chance. He genuinely hopes you’ll be happy with Ace. All this directly translates to an ecstatic wolf beastman once the fake news is cleared up. There’s no way he’s letting this chance slip through his fingers, not when you’re right there! Do you need help with carrying that? Do you want to work out with him tomorrow? What, you think it’s too early? No problem, he doesn’t mind pushing the hour back, as long as it means he can go with you. If you choose him, every day will be (leg day lmao) another day of bettering yourself and living to the fullest.

Ace is one hundred percent ready to sabotage you. Yes he loves you, and yes Jack’s his friend or whatever, but there’s just no way in hell he’s giving you up. He’s your first friend in NRC, your best friend too! What’ll happen to him when you’re all lovey dovey with Jack? He’s thankful when you tell him it’s fake (that means he doesn’t have to break you guys up haha), and he tries to hint his affection for you through…interesting means. He’ll do things for you but claim you “totally owe him back” (you never asked), he’ll give you random stuff because he just “found them lying around”, and he gets so clingy and touchy but covers it up with friendship. If you choose him, every day will be exciting and new.

Malleus Draconia vs Kalim al Asim

Malleus is upset. Al Asim is a rather cheerful individual, so perhaps that was the kind of person you preferred to court? He’s not quite well-suited to that, but he will try if he must. When Lilia informs him that it was all a hoax (lightning strikes down whichever poor soul started it), he calms down and gets remarkably happy. You are unattached to any individual romantically, child of man? How lovely. He’s princely and noble in all he does; holding your hand on late night walks while talking about anything and everything, giving you bouquets of your favorite flowers upon every meeting, and what he enjoys most of all, is dancing with you under the gaze of the stars above, even with no music involved. If you choose him, the throne of Briar Valley awaits.

Kalim straight up bawls when he hears the news. You’re with Malleus now? Really? If it makes you happy, then he’s happy (he is not, he is miserable). Malleus is a good guy. But, Kalim is also good, you know? Continues crying when Jamil tells him the good news, but this time from happiness. Well, it’s Kalim, so of course he’ll absolutely lavish you in wealth and luxury beyond your wildest dreams, gold and diamonds and gems galore. He throws banquets in your honor and teaches you how to dance and sing to traditional songs of his hometown, and he hand feeds you bites when he can. His favorite activity with you will always be a magic carpet ride, it’s just so fun, so free and romantic. If you choose him, Scalding Sands will be waiting with open arms and a parade of elephants.

Sebek Zigvolt vs Trey Clover

Sebek doesn’t care. Why would he care that you, an annoying human, is dating another human? All that matters is…Malleus…and he needs to convince himself more that you don’t matter to him, not in that way. He can begrudgingly befriend a human, but he can’t… He tries not to react when someone tells him it’s fake, but he can’t help the beating of his heart or the shaky nerves. Suddenly, you might notice that Sebek is around more often. He will reluctantly help you if you struggle with certain subjects, or even help you carry things even when you seem perfectly capable of doing it on your own. He’s bright red when his hand just barely brushes against yours in the halls. If you choose him, he will be your knight and your protector forevermore.

Trey is mostly confused. He’s hesitant to believe it because Sebek is loud, a little arrogant, and perhaps a bit obnoxious—the complete opposite of Trey. His disbelief is proven right, and he takes a big sigh of relief. He really doesn’t know what he would’ve done had it been real. Hope you like sweets, because now you’re invited to every tea party ever in Heartslabyul, courtesy of their vice housewarden. He’ll bring pastries and cookies and puddings and cakes to you every other day, as mama said, the way to the heart is through the stomach, right? He might also give you a set of toothbrushes and his preferred brand of toothpaste in order to make sure that your teeth are unharmed by his sweets. If you choose him, he will be your safe haven in the chaos.

Rook Hunt vs Floyd Leech

Rook is very happy for you, after all, what else is more beau than young love? He’ll clasp his hands together and spout some lengthy poem about intertwined hearts, but no one will ever notice his own as it breaks. Floyd is a very interesting person, Rook is glad you’ve found your one! But it doesn’t take long before he finds out the truth, and when he does (he’ll hunt down the source), best believe he’s skipping over to you and doing his best to serenade you with nothing but his bow as an instrument. He’ll teach you how to use it too if you want, perhaps a kiss will be enough as repayment? Just on the cheek. An arrow will fly through your window everyday with a scroll filled with words praising your beauty and kindness, so you better keep it open. If you choose him, you’ll learn how to see the beauty of the world even if it all seems dark.

Floyd is ready to fight! You, or that weird seagull, or whoever told him the news, everyone’s in for a real good squeeze. He’s pouty and annoyed and his mood is at an all-time low, beware all those who cross his path. He’ll find you to hear the news directly from you, so you better deny it quick before his squeeze breaks your ribs. Eh? It’s a lie? That’s so boring (he’ll hurt the source of this news for sure). Now you have a clingy eel always by your side, if he was clingy before this whole thing, he’s inseparable from you now. He’ll cook you something nice at the lounge if he feels like it, and you’re automatically invited to basketball practice whether you like it or not (please come, the team is begging you). If you choose him, one thing’s for sure, you’ll never be bored again!

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feefivefoe · 1 month

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I guess I'm unintentionally working my way up the age ladder, so Jason next-

This is the first part that contains backstory stuff I gave my reader, so unfortunately this is where a lot of the "they can be anyone" immersion dies, sorry y'all.

Genuinely, he thought he might hate you at first. Even at the preteen age of 12, where children were usually trying to start striving to independence, you had been so...bland.

It's not that you didn't stand out. Quite the contrary. Anywhere Alfred could be found, you were just a step or two behind him. A leech. Only ever speaking in a hushed voice, making the old man strain himself to hear you, surely.

He doesn't think you've ever even looked him in the eye.

It isn't until that summer he starts connecting the dots. You still cling to long sleeved shirts, pants over shorts, even when it's clear you're struggling to not overheat.

Then he catches you in the kitchen in the middle of the night, t-shirt and pajama shorts.

Burn marks, healed yet gruesome, decorate your arms and legs. Based on how they're positioned, he'd argue they probably exist on the rest of your body, too.

And yet, despite his invasion of what you clearly(?) wanted kept hidden, you merely bow your head in shame and offer a meek apology.

That's when he stops seeing you as a problem, but as a victim of consequence.

Not a bratty child who doesn't care enough about the lower class to speak to your new 'sibling,' but a lonely child who had never even once considered he might want to speak to you.

"Mister Wayne and Mister Grayson are very busy." You had said once, matter of factly rather than bitter or sad. "I'm sure they'd spend time with me if they weren't. But they have two lives, so they have less time than anybody."

He doesn't have the heart to tell you that they make time for him. And the rest of Gotham.

As you do with Alfred, you begin to shadow him. Meandering behind him without a care as to what his plans are, happy to receive the barest of acknowledgments.

You hesitate when speaking about yourself, as though taking up his time with mentions of you is an issue. He's starting to understand why.

Jason isn't sure if it's pity or growing affection that keeps him around, at first. For a while, he sees you as more of a sad, wet dog than as his family.

But you begin to connect with peers at school, finding validation outside of those that feel forced to give it to you. You mature, grow up more than you should, and realize the reality of your home life.

And Jason is thrilled! ...and...a little sad? He's happy for you, sure. Having friends is probably what you needed. People who want you around, genuinely. Who choose to make time for you.

But he'd be lying if he said that the way you used to stare at him didn't make him feel like a hero. Like he was doing so much, changing your world, simply by existing.

You still speak, of course. You're friendly siblings that get along well. You give him various foods you've tried making, courtesy of Alfred inspiring a desire to learn to cook and bake on your own. You talk about books you've read together, and listen intently while he rambles about his favorites.

You even peek in after particularly rough patrol nights, just to make sure he's gotten through it okay.

But it isn't...quite the same. No, but it's...it's for the best.

And he is still a hero! As Robin, he's protecting the whole city alongside Batman!

So he's still a hero.

He's still your hero.

"Jay? I was wondering if I could ask you for some help. The show my club is doing is one of those old books you like-"

"They aren't that old."

"-and my character doesn't show up much in the movie-"

"You watched the MOVIE before reading the book!?"

"-so I wanted to ask if you'd help me with characterization!"

He remembers groaning at you and rolling his eyes. "I'm busy tonight. Go watch the dumb, BAD, movie again." He pauses. "Uh, but I can tomorrow. I'll make sure I don't have anything planned, promise."

He saw you pause, and sees the constant same promises pass through you.

"I...have other arrangements. I'll make it up to you next time."

"Ah...sorry, kiddo! Big kid stuff. But next time! You trust your big bro, yeah?"

But this is Jason. Jason doesn't lie to you.

Jason keeps his promises.

You smiled. "Yeah. Tomorrow."

...

Then he died.

#neglected batfam #yandere batfam #bat tag #neglectful batfam #yandere batboys #yandere dc

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changbunnies · 4 months

Text

Coy (18+)

♡ Pairing: Inexperienced!Bang Chan x Experienced Fem!Reader

♡ Genre: fluff and smut with a lil plot :)

♡ Word Count: 7.7k

♡ Summary: What occurs when joking about sex with your roommate leads to a shocking discovery about his lack of experience in the bedroom.

♡ Smut Warnings: not intended to have overt dom/sub dynamics but you can infer vibes if you want lol, chan is rlly insecure but reader is here to help!!, nipple play, handjob, oral (m rec), fingering (f rec), protected piv

♡ Notes: hey yall, i wanted to write something small and fun before my next big fic so here we are :’) honestly i was torn between writing this for chan or bin and ended up choosing chan but lmk if you'd want to see a fic like this for binnie! i went super perfectionist mode and rewrote this several times…. like at least 7 fsdgdsfg but i don't want it in my drafts anymore !! just take it !!

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

All you said was a lighthearted joke– something said in jest to make your roommate-turned-best friend’s face flush red and burn all the way to the tips of his ears.

That was always the reaction Chan had when you brought up having had sex, you noticed; cheeks flushed red, eyes darting away from yours to look anywhere else, thumbs nervously twiddling where his hands rested in his lap. You assumed he had plenty of experience, but was more of a “heat of the moment” kind of guy– where you imagined he’d be confident and sure of himself with his partner, but talking about sex outside of the moment turned him into a shy, stuttering mess.

And it’s not that you purposely went out of your way to imagine what Chan was like during sex, but your mind would often wander there on its own. He was attractive, to put it lightly– devoted to fine-tuning his muscles with diligently followed routines and strictly maintained effort. You were witness to his toned body on more than one occasion, as he often wandered around the apartment shirtless while having just woken up or doing his laundry.

It was a treat for the eyes for sure, but you were respectful. You never drooled over him– at least not anywhere but in the privacy of your bedroom. But it wasn’t just his body that you adored; he had the absolute cutest smile you’d ever seen, eyes crinkling into the prettiest crescent moons as dimples showed on his cheeks. You loved his fluffy, natural hair, and the deep brown color of his eyes, and the way warmth radiated off him when he pulled you into a hug.

So maybe you have a crush on him– but you aren’t going to act on it. You live together in a careful balance, in which you are close enough to him to become good friends while also hiding your attraction to him to maintain the peace. God forbid he doesn't return your attraction, or he does and down the line it makes things complicated. The last thing you need is to scramble for a new place to live after things between you don’t work out– you’d never be able to afford it, and you’ll gladly swallow your feelings for home security.

But just because you couldn’t have sex with Chan, didn’t mean you couldn’t talk about it with him.

Chan is shy– that much you knew for certain. And sex, while a natural and fun part of life, is something that some people are embarrassed to be open about despite the normality. That's what you saw Chan as; a shy, easily embarrassed person. You thought it was so cute, and just a teensy bit funny; and with all that in mind, it was fun to tease him– to watch his eyes widen in surprise before he let out an awkward cough and looked away, hoping to hide the red forming on his cheeks.

So today, after bringing up how your last date ended, and seeing how brightly Chan’s face burned when you talked about the way they touched you, you couldn’t help but joke around with him. “Oh, c’mon Channie, don’t be coy. I know you’re drowning in pussy when I’m not here,” you teased him with a smirk. Considering your crush on him, you didn’t like to think about it too hard, but you did believe it– surely he brings people back to the apartment while you’re out on your dates.

“O-Oh, no, I’m not– I don’t–” he started to stutter out, and you giggled, because really, how could you believe anything else? He’s perfect– intelligent, funny, talented, as adorable as he is devastatingly hot; obviously he can get whoever he wants, and you believe he does– because Chan is certainly a fucking catch. But still, he continues to stammer and shake his head, blush spreading down his neck as he refutes your statement.

He isn’t a virgin, you have that much right; but he also isn’t some smooth operator hitting hookups with the classic “my roommate isn’t home 👀” text like you seem to think. He doesn’t even know why you think he’s secretly so cool– he’s only ever shown you the most embarrassing version of himself, much to his own chagrin. He’d like to be the person you think he is, but that’s simply not reality.

And as your giggling comes to a stop, and you really look at Chan and take in his expression, you can tell– he's being serious. "Oh," you blink in surprise, smacked with the realization that all your assumptions about him may have been entirely off base.

You frown, wondering if you've actually been making him uncomfortable this entire time. It was always meant to be in good fun, as you thought his bashful reactions were incredibly cute and endearing; but now you realize the truth. Chan isn’t shy about sex because he’s a private person– he’s shy about sex because he isn't having any.

Suddenly, you feel really embarrassed about all the times you talked about yourself; maybe it's karma for all the times you've subtly teased him. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable or crossed a line or anything, I didn't mean to, really–" You start to apologize, but Chan interjects, quickly shaking his head.

"N-No, no, you're fine! I just, uh–" he nervously stumbles on his words again, not even sure what he’s doing at this point. He doesn't even know why he refuted your joke so strongly– sure, it wasn’t true, but wouldn’t it be better for him if you believed it?

Chan likes you�� like, really likes you; but he can't imagine someone as experienced and confident as you will go for a guy like him. Because while he isn't a virgin, his past experiences have been woefully cringe-inducing to even recall.

He was always so eager and clumsy, with trembling hands and face so red he was sure he looked like a tomato. He was embarrassingly sensitive, every touch feeling so overwhelmingly good that he could hardly contain all the noises threatening to leave his throat. He came so fast that he didn’t even know what to do with himself when it was all said and done, hiding his face beneath his arm while he muttered a string of low apologies.

And subjecting you to all of that? No thanks, falling off the face of the earth would be more preferable. You're the most sex positive person he's ever met, and you won’t make fun of him, he logically knows, but there’s part of him that fears it anyways. On top of that, apparently you had an extremely positive perception of his skills, and now he's ruined it.

While he's unsure what about him led you to believe he's desirable enough to have people biting at the chance to be with him, that impression, for better or worse, will never come back. So should he just be honest? Admit that he's actually really down bad for you but nowhere near confident enough to think he's enough for you?

That sounds like a bad idea. Terrible, even. Chan swallows as he looks at you, doing his best to ignore the way anxiety builds from deep in his gut. You're looking at him so patiently, caringly, that it makes his heart squeeze in his chest. Fuck it– he doesn't have to be completely honest and bear his heart on his sleeve, but he can trust you enough to admit a little bit of what he feels, right? If he can't confide in you then who else can he confide in?

"I just, uhm, I'm not very confident, I guess," he says after a careful breath, nervously scratching at the back of his neck as he darts his eyes away, "like.. in myself, or.. my skills, you know. So I just, uh.. don't have sex." You don't respond right away, simply blinking as you process the information, and regret starts to flood over the anxiety as Chan begins to overthink everything he’s admitted to you.

Really, you’re just shocked; Chan is sexy– like, really sexy. So the revelation that he isn’t confident in himself enough to enjoy sex to its fullest extent is baffling. He has such effortless charisma in other aspects of his life despite his shy nature, and you always assumed it carried over into his sex life; where his bashful looks and timid grins would melt away into someone confident and assured once the moment kicked off.

“I could help you,” you finally offer once the initial surprise wears off, and instantly his brain is short circuiting, not even realizing that his astounded “huh?” left him audibly. You didn't really plan on confessing your attraction to Chan this way, if ever, but well.. here you are.

"It's just– you're like, the hottest person I know. Seriously. And I don't care if you lack experience, I'd have sex with you regardless," you explain, a rare blush of your own beginning to heat your face, "So, yeah, you know– if you want me like I want you, then.." You start to trail off, but you think he gets what you were intending to say.

It's a bit embarrassing to be blushing yourself considering all the casual sex you have, but it's not your fault– Chan is the only person you've caught feelings for in years, so you can't help but blush a little. Chan, meanwhile, is still stunned; you're attracted to him? You want to have sex with him? Really?

On one hand, it's exciting– you want him, he wants you, and you don't care that he's inexperienced. But still, on the other hand.. With all the experience you have, don’t you want to sleep with someone who matches your energy? He can't imagine that you'd enjoy watching him fumble his way through your time together, or that he’d bring you any pleasure with his lackluster skills.

And what would your relationship be afterwards? Just friends and roommates who happened to fuck once, or something more? Will the mutual attraction die off the moment you realize his insecurities are way more than you signed on for?

“You don’t have to answer right now,” you assure him, offering all the time he may need to think about your proposition. Maybe it won’t be the most casual of your experiences considering your massive crush on him, but how could you pass up the chance to help him? Especially when helping means having sex with the guy of your dreams– because really, that’s what Chan is.

He wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans, swallows the lump in his throat, and takes a breath– because despite all his fears, he really likes you, and of course he wants to fuck you. Chan always figured he’d never have a chance with you unless you experienced a huge lapse in judgment; and maybe this is one and done, maybe it doesn't mean as much for you as it does for him, but he’ll still take that chance, insecurities be damned; he’d be a fool not to.

“I want to,” he tells you, soft and timid, but certain. You smile, equally as soft, as you inch closer to him on the sofa. “Can I kiss you?” you ask him, giggling when he quickly nods. It’s cute– equally as cute as the small, involuntary noise he makes from the back of his throat when your lips touch his. You start slow, pressing long, lingering kisses to his plush lips– as soft as you always imagined.

His breath hitches when you crawl onto his lap, pulling away to look at you with widened eyes. “Too much?” you ask, ready to pull yourself off of him but he quickly shakes his head. “You’re just–” he pauses, licks his lips as his face flushes a deeper pink, but continues “..so pretty. Really pretty. Can't believe this is really happening."

It feels a bit silly being so shy to tell you how pretty you are to him when you’ve been kissing him and are quite literally sitting on top of his dick, but he can’t help the way you make him feel. It’s a simple compliment too, one that normally wouldn’t affect you very much, but makes your heart pick up ever so slightly in speed regardless; you suppose because Chan is the one saying it.

You can tell he doesn’t know what to do with his hands when you kiss him again, keeping them clenched and firmly stuck to his side. You take them in your hands, guiding them to your body and resting them on your hips. “Touch me, Channie,” you breathe against his lips, “anywhere you want.”

“Anywhere..?” he questions with a shaky exhale, hands trembling where they rest on your body. “Mhm, want to feel you,” you tell him sweetly, and God, he already feels like his heart is going to beat out of his chest before he’s even really begun. But he listens, hands carefully traveling up and down your body as you lean back in to continue kissing him.

You let your own hands wander as well– over his arms, across his chest, down the toned abs you can distinctly feel even beneath his sweater. You lick his bottom lip, feeling his body shiver beneath the tips of your fingers as he opens his mouth for you, letting your tongue inside.

He brings his hands to your chest, palming your breasts before he carefully squeezes them. You bring one of your hands to hover over his, encouraging him to continue by squeezing your hand atop his. He’s only touching you over your clothes, but he already feels impossibly dizzy from the excitement– he can’t even focus on how pathetic that would normally make him feel either, because your tongue in his mouth fogs his brain.

The next time you pull away, it’s to grab the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head so swiftly that Chan barely even has time to process what he’s about to see. He sucks in a breath as he looks at your tits; it doesn’t even matter that they’re still contained by a bra– it’s still more than enough to send him reeling. Pretty, pretty, pretty, is all he can think, his mind unable to conjure a thought any more complex than simple words.

You move your hands behind your back, ready to unhook your bra and expose yourself to him entirely, but he briefly stops you. “Can I– Can I try..?” he asks, clearly nervous but eager to try and prove himself in whatever way you’ll let him. “Course, Channie,” you smile at him as you let your arms fall back to your side, “go ahead.” You lean closer to him, bringing your hands to his shoulders as he brings his own to your back.

You press kisses to his jaw as you wait for him to act, eventually trailing down to his neck. It makes him gasp and bite his lip, the skin of his neck evidently more sensitive than he ever even realized. He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, trying his best not to get too distracted by the feeling of your lips on the sensitive spots of his neck before he continues.

His fingers fumble with the hooks of your bra, his trembling hands causing his grip to slip more than once. It’s embarrassing how badly he’s failing at this simple task, but you pay no mind to it, continuing to kiss him as he takes his time to figure it out. You caress his arms, pulling away to reassure him when his shaking fingers mess up for the third time.

“Relax, baby, you’ve got it,” you tell him, the affectionate term unintentionally slipping out– but Chan seems to welcome it, offering you a soft smile and nod as he timidly tries again. He lets out the breath he was unconsciously holding when he finally succeeds, watching attentively as you bring your hands to the now loose straps, sliding them down your arms.

You toss your bra aside when your arms are freed from the straps, and Chan can’t help but stare at your now bare chest. He can count on a single hand the amount of tits he’s seen, so his thoughts may be a bit biased in your favor, but he firmly believes yours are the prettiest he’s ever looked at. Chewing on his bottom lip, he looks to you for permission to touch them again, which you easily grant him.

The soft noise you let out when his thumbs brush over your nipples both surprises him and makes his cock throb; he can still hardly even believe you’re really letting him touch you. “Is that good?” he asks as he does it again, intoxicated by the way you whimper and squirm. “Mhm, feels good. Feels better when they’re wet, though,” you tell him, watching as the gears turn in his brain.

He licks his lips and leans down, bringing his face to your chest. He sticks out his tongue, slowly swiping it against one of your hardened nipples, eyes glued to your face as he does. “This what you want?” he asks, repeating the action when you gasp and nod. You thread your fingers through his hair, another whimper leaving you as he wraps his lips around your nipple and swirls his tongue around it.

You reach for his other hand and bring his fingers to your mouth, licking and coating them in your saliva. He whines at the feeling of your tongue sliding against his fingers, his imagination running wild with images of what it’d feel like on different parts of his body. Once satisfied with the wetness of his fingers, you take them from your mouth and bring them back down to the nipple currently not in his mouth. “Use them to touch me, please–”

Chan wastes no time in doing what you ask, a soft whine escaping him when you gently tug on his hair. His cock is painfully hard and straining against his jeans that are now uncomfortably tight around him. You can feel it pressing against your ass, his eyes fluttering shut when his treatment of your nipples cause you to squirm and rub against his erection. The friction is overwhelming, your noises are intoxicating, the combination makes him dizzy with need for more.

More of your touch on his skin, more of your pretty whimpers in his ear, more of anything and everything you’re willing to give him, he wants it all. Soon you’re reaching for the hem of Chan’s sweater, and he separates from you, allowing you to pull it up and over his head, discarding it to the floor with the rest of your clothing. You admire him, trace his pecs and his abs with your fingers, smiling at him sweetly when he shivers beneath your touch.

“You’re so handsome, Channie,” you tell him as you continue to run your fingers along his torso, “so hot, you have no idea how bad I’ve wanted you.” He whines and turns his face away, a vain attempt to hide the heat that rises to it. “That’s– I-I.. didn’t know..” he mumbles shyly, hesitant to meet your gaze again– mostly because he thinks his heart will burst if he looks at you while you’re saying things like that to him.

He doesn’t know how he’s ever going to be able to look at you without going red in the face after this, or how he’s going to be able to hear your voice again without his cock getting hard. Better yet, how is he going to look at you without thinking about how bad he wants you to be his, or for him to be yours? Either way, that’s a problem for the future– because your hands and lips are all over him, and that’s what he wants to focus on now.

Chan sucks in a breath when your hand brushes his erection over his jeans, bites his lip when you start to undo the button, lets out a shaky exhale as you begin to pull down the zipper. He’s not sure what you’ll think of his length, but he hopes you like it, prays that it’s enough to satisfy you. “You should have more confidence in yourself, Channie,” is the first thing you say as you take it in your hand, “you’ve got the prettiest cock I’ve ever seen.”

“W-What? No way, that’s– you’re just saying that,” he pouts, the blush covering his face and ears becoming unbearably hot. You can’t mean that– he almost refuses to believe it; because he simply can’t comprehend that you would prefer him to anyone else. “I’m not, baby. I mean it,” you tell him, and the way he throbs in your hand gives away that he likes the compliment, even if he doesn’t entirely believe it’s true.

You really are being honest; it’s not the longest you’ve ever had, but it’s among the thickest, with pretty veins that accentuate it. You want to trace them– with your fingers, your lips, your tongue, everything. And then there’s the way his pre-cum leaks from the tip, steadily dripping and pooling where it falls-–all you can say is that it’s mouth-watering. The look in your eyes makes Chan feel impossibly shy, and it takes everything within him not to cover his face when your eyes meet again.

He never imagined that look would be for him; that he would ever be deserving of your touch and affectionate words. And the sweet smile you offer him when you start to earnestly stroke his cock– he’s done for, absolutely done for. He’ll never be able to hide how bad he wants you after this– maybe he should listen to you and gain some confidence, ask you to be his before someone else steals you away.

Chan quickly loses his ability to form coherent thought once you start picking up your pace however, your hand having quickly become slick from his pre-cum. His head falls back against the sofa, breaths growing more and more labored with each stroke of your soft, warm, wet hand. You can feel his thighs twitch beneath you, and the way his hips jolt up to try to seek further friction from your hand, though your weight atop his legs prevents him doing so.

“Want you in my mouth,” you tell him, pleased with the way the words make him gasp and squirm, “You want that, Channie? Will you let me suck you off?” Fuck, do you even have to ask? As if there is any reality in which he would ever say no; you can have him, all of him, he doesn’t care as long as it’s you– he’ll never deny you any part of him. “Yeah, yeah, want that, please,” he breathes, an almost shameless plea for you to do whatever you want with him.

You offer him a pretty smile, placing a quick but affectionate kiss to his lips before you remove yourself from his lap. Sinking to your knees, you pull Chan’s jeans and boxers down his legs and to his ankles, and wait for him to step out of them and spread his legs wide enough for you to fit between them. There’s an apprehensive look in his eye when you scoot closer to him, and you pause, looking up at him with concern. “Are you nervous?” you ask, ready to stop at a moment’s notice if he needs you to.

“Ah, yeah, sorry, I just–” he pauses, an awkward, nervous laugh leaving him as he averts his gaze away from yours, “I just.. ‘m worried I’m gonna cum too fast when you.. Uh, yeah, you know.” He feels a bit pathetic admitting it, and he keeps his eyes locked on a random corner of the room, still holding onto the irrational fear that you’ll judge or laugh at him. Of course, you do neither– you simply lean forward on your knees, reaching a hand up to touch his face and bring his eyes back to yours.

“Don’t worry about that, I won’t mind if you cum fast, okay? It won’t bother me, and I won’t be mad. Just enjoy yourself,” you tell him earnestly, smiling sweetly at him when he slowly nods. You want to show him that you’re more than happy to take care of him until he gets the confidence in himself he needs, that there’s no shame in feeling so good that he can’t help but let go, that you’ll want him regardless.

You settle back on your knees, rubbing your hands up and down his thighs until you feel like his nerves have settled. He nods to you when he’s ready, and you give him one last smile before you bring your face directly to his waiting cock. The kisses you place to the tip are already enough to have him gasping and squirming in his seat– soft, delicate, and wet. Your fingers hold him at the base, keeping it held in place even as it twitches in response to every kiss you leave behind.

You stick out your tongue, let spit dribble down and further wet his leaking tip, and it’s positively the most erotic thing Chan has ever witnessed; he has to cover his face to stop himself from losing his mind. Head fallen back against the sofa with his arm thrown over his face, he gasps once more when he feels your tongue press against his skin. You lick slowly– whether to savor the taste or prolong the moment, Chan is unsure, but he welcomes it either way.

He can’t suppress the throaty groan that leaves him when you drag your tongue across the entirety of his length, tracing the veins with it just as you wished to. “O-Oh my god, baby–” he gasps when you finally start to take his cock into your mouth, too far gone to realize that he too let the pet name slip out. You don’t seem to mind, at least; after all, despite this “casual” encounter, you’ve already done the same, and been more affectionate than he ever anticipated.

Chan wants to believe you’re affectionate just with him; that none of your other casual partners have ever been looked at the way you’ve looked at him, that you never called them sweet names or given them such caring glances. Maybe he’s feeding himself a delusion, but he wants to believe you want him as bad as he wants you– beyond just the physical. He wants to believe this isn’t just a one time thing, and most of all he wants to believe that you’ll fall in love with him.

Is it normal to think about love when your cock is deep down your crush's throat? He doesn’t know– but all he can think about, apart from how amazing your mouth feels, is how much he loves and adores you. Letting his arm fall back to his side, he lifts his head from the sofa to look at you once more, and fuck, what a site you are. Eyes glassy and pretty as you gaze up at him through your lashes, cheeks flushed red, saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth.

The sounds you make as you bob your head are so salacious it makes his head spin, his thighs tremble with each motion of your tongue on the underside of his length, and every time his tip touches the back of your throat he can’t help but let out a moan. His fingers struggle to find purchase on the sofa’s cushion, so instead he clenches his fist, knuckles quickly turning white. You notice, of course, so you bring one of your hands to his, intertwining your fingers and letting him squeeze your hand instead.

God, that fucks with his heart– but he hardly has any time to dwell on it. He’s barely been holding back his orgasm, and he’s not sure how much longer he can last. “Babe, baby, feels so good, I can’t– o-oh, please, ‘m gonna cum–” he babbles his warning, whimpering when you hum in response and continue to take him as deep into your mouth as he can go. His eyes roll back, cock throbbing and entire body trembling– and one more swipe of your tongue and swallow around his length is all it takes to have him cumming.

“O-Oh my– fuck, fuck, sorry, ‘m cumming, baby–” he rambles, thankfully too far gone to be embarrassed by all the things he’s saying to you. You swallow all he has to give you, not pulling off him until he starts to come down from his high and cock begins to soften. He’s dazed and breathless as he looks at you, chest heaving as his brain tries to recalibrate itself after how good you just made him feel.

You rise from your knees and set yourself back on the sofa, leaning towards Chan to kiss him after he’s caught his breath. He can taste himself on your lips, but he doesn’t hate it; there’s a strange part of him that even enjoys it. “‘m sorry,” he mumbles with a nervous pout when you pull away, “I tried to hold it back, but..”

“Channie, I told you not to worry about that. It felt good, right? That’s all that matters,” you tell him, directing him to look at you when he tries to avert his gaze again. He swallows the anxiety down, trying to look at you without feeling like disappearing into a void. But he can tell after just a moment how sincere you’re being, and it spreads relief through his veins. It’s not that he really doubted you, but his internal dialogue is far from rational.

You’ve been so good to him since the start, and though he’s incredibly shy and equally as nervous, there’s nothing more he wants now than to return the favor. He still doubts he’s good enough to give you what you deserve, to skillfully make you cum and cry out for him, but he’ll try– God, he’ll fucking try.

It takes all the confidence he can muster to speak what he wants to say, but he thankfully manages alright. “I want, uh– ..w-want to make you cum too,” he admits, doing his best to hold your gaze despite the way shyness claws at him and his blush burns his face. “Yeah?” you smile, honestly pretty eager to let Chan touch you more.

While you were more than ready to keep taking the lead, to guide him along and take care of him, you’re happy to see a surge of confidence in him– even if it’s a small one. “Touch me then, Channie. Make me cum,” you tell him as you beckon him closer, letting out a soft, content hum when he kisses you. You let him guide you back until your back is flat against the sofa, spreading your legs so that he can nestle between them.

You can feel his hands trembling again as they travel your body, but Chan doesn’t let the nerves prevent him from hooking his fingers into your pants. He continues to kiss you as he slides them down your legs, along with your panties– not just because he loves kissing you, but also because he’s not quite ready to look at your bare pussy; he genuinely thinks his heart will give out if he doesn’t mentally prepare himself first.

Pretty soon though, he does have to separate from you so he can let you slip your feet out of your clothes, and subsequently toss them to the floor with all the rest of your discarded clothing. He tries to keep his eyes locked on your face, but he can’t help but let his eyes trail down and roam over the rest of your exposed body. He’s mesmerized in an instant; you’re so impossibly pretty, every inch of you breathtaking and beautiful and– God, just perfect.

He knows his words will fail him, so he hopes his lips on yours will do enough of the talking for him, hopes that he can show how bad he adores and desires you with actions alone. You intended initially to let him take his time, but you’ve been impossibly wet and worked up this entire time; and besides, doesn’t he need a little push?

So you take one of his hands, guiding it to your dripping center. Chan lets out an involuntary whine from the back of his throat, body shivering in response. “Y-You’re so– oh my god, how are you so wet?” he asks, as in awe of you as he is surprised. “You, baby,” you answer, voice growing shakier now that he’s rubbing his fingers between your folds, “I told you, you– you’re so handsome, you know? Get me so hot, ‘ve wanted you so bad.”

God, he still can’t believe it– how is it possible that you’ve wanted him as bad as he’s wanted you? And there’s no way his insecurities can make him believe you’re just saying it to make him feel good about himself anymore, because he can feel the proof of your words with his fingers. “Tell me– tell me what you like, what you want, please,” he softly pleads, “need to make you feel good.”

“Inside, want your pretty fingers inside me,” you tell him, shivering when you feel the tips of his fingers pressing against your hole. He starts slow and careful, gently pushing one of his fingers inside, alternating between watching his hand and looking up to your face. You’re so slick and warm, and the way you squeeze around even just one of his fingers makes his head spin– because he can’t help but imagine how you’d feel on his cock.

“Another, add another, please,” you all but beg once you’re adjusted to how one feels, and he wastes no time in obliging you, delighting in the way it makes your eyes flutter closed. You bite your lip when he starts to instinctively move his fingers faster, little whimpers escaping as your breaths become heavier. “You sound so pretty,” he says, gasping when he realizes it caused you to clench harder around his fingers.

Do you like when he talks to you? He doesn’t know if it’s his voice you like, or what he said in particular, but if you like it then he won’t stop. “F-Feels so amazing, I can’t– can’t stop thinking about what you’d feel like around me, want it so bad, want to be inside you,” he starts to ramble, doing his best to voice everything that comes to his mind, anything he thinks you’ll like and will have you clenching again, even if it embarrasses him to say it.

He experiments with his fingers as he talks to you– changing angles and curling his fingers, trying to find what you like the best. You gasp when he finds your spot with the tips of his fingers, body trembling and back arching. “R-Right there, fuck, feels so good, Channie, your fingers feel so good,” you tell him breathlessly, and he can’t help the way he stiffens and throbs once more in response.

And really, how is he supposed to look at the way you shake beneath him, hear your pretty voice praise the way he’s touching you, and not get hard again? He wants nothing more than to make you cum– to make you cry and writhe in pleasure for him, because of him; almost desperate for it, he hits your spot over and over again, hoping to bring you closer and closer to the release you both crave.

He’s mesmerized by the way your eyes roll back, by the rise and fall of your chest and tremble of your thighs; addicted to the way your moans and whimpers grow higher in pitch, and the messy, wet sounds his fingers create between your legs. Chan glances down to your pussy, taking notice of your puffy, neglected clit.

He wants to taste it, to wrap his lips around and let his tongue lavish it, but he doesn’t trust himself to be able to get down smoothly or without messing up his rhythm; so instead, he brings his thumb to it– something he’s seen done in porn that woman always seemed to like (and he desperately hopes you like it too.) Thankfully, he gets the effect he was hoping for– you let out a whimper and squirm, nails digging into his skin.

Chan doesn’t let up even when his wrist begins to grow sore, running purely on desire and instinct. “F-Fuck, Channie, baby, ‘m gonna cum, you’re gonna make me cum,” you gasp out, voice whiny and strained, but still oh so pretty in his ears. He can’t believe he’s actually going to make you cum, can’t believe how lucky he is; and he's utterly transfixed on the way your body moves, drunk on the sounds that freely spill from you.

He gasps when you reach out and unexpectedly pull him closer, letting out a soft, surprised whine when you eagerly crash your lips into his. It’s the messiest kiss he’s ever had, tongues dancing and drool falling from the corners of your mouth, hot and heavy breaths passed between each other. Your thighs squeeze his hand as your orgasm takes you, entire body shaking as your back arches off the sofa, arousal gushing and further coating his fingers.

Chan slowly slides his fingers out of you as you catch your breath, meeting your gaze shyly when you open your eyes to look at him once more. He’s so fucking hard, again, and you instantly notice, much to his embarrassment. He wants to fuck you, there’s no denying it– but he can’t help but continue to feel self-conscious, even now.

You sit up and kiss him once more, as if to dispel all doubts and worries from his racing mind. “Want you, Channie,” you tell him, voice soft, sweet, and reassuring, “do you still want me? Wanna fuck me?” He whines from deep in his throat, knowing he’d never be able to deny it, even if he wanted to.

“Yes, God, yes, wanna fuck you,” he answers honestly, nervously chewing on his bottom lip, “b-but I– I just.. don’t want to disappoint you.” He’ll never forgive himself if he fucks this up and leaves you wanting and unsatisfied; he wants to be nothing less than perfect for you and he already knows that he isn’t.

“Channie, baby, look at me,” you say as you reach a hand to his cheek, urging him to meet your eyes again, “you won’t disappoint me, you could never.” You place soft, comforting pecks to his lips, holding his hands and rubbing soothing circles with your thumbs until you feel him start to lose his tension. “Remember what I said? Don’t worry about anything but feeling good. I want you to cum again,” you tell him, smiling as he nods, his face flushing a deeper red.

Leaning towards the coffee table, you reach for where you dropped your purse before sitting down with Chan, digging around inside until you find one of the spare condoms you make sure to keep for your dates. He swallows as he watches you pull it out, beyond nervous but equally as excited to finally feel you wrapped around him.

Even just watching you tear open the packaging is enough to have him trembling, and when you glance at him to make sure he’s ready, he ignores his insecurities the best he can to offer you a timid smile. You return the smile, taking his cock in your hand and giving it a few slow pumps to make sure he’s ready. He squirms and softly whines, still sensitive from his previous orgasm, but there’s no way he’s going to let that stop him from having this moment with you.

He shivers when you easily roll the condom down his length, biting his lip as you crawl back onto his lap after you’ve finished. His heart is beating fast and erratic, and he wonders if you can hear how loudly it’s thumping against his chest. He lies half propped up by one of the sofa’s cushions, looking up at you with eyes akin to a puppy, watching your every move with bated breath.

You reach between your bodies to hold his cock at the base, angling it with your still soaked entrance. You let go once you start to sink down on it, moving your hand to his chest to support yourself as his cock pushes inside. “Oh, fuck–” Chan lets out a choked gasp, already overwhelmed by the sensation even before you’re fully sat on his length.

Even with a condom on, he can still feel how warm and wet you are, your walls squeezing him so tight it takes his breath away. “Fuck, baby, oh my god, it already feels so good, what the fuck–” he gasps again once your hips are flush together. He doesn’t remember it feeling this amazing the last time he had sex; is it because he’s more sensitive from before? Or is it because it’s you?

No matter the answer, he’s certain of one thing– and that’s that he’s definitely going to cum fast; he just hopes you meant it when you said it’s okay. He lets out an obscenely loud moan when you start to lift and drop your hips– one that would normally make him extremely embarrassed, but he feels way too good to even focus on it; all he can think about is how fucking good you feel.

His hands squeeze your hips, and he looks at you with stars in his eyes. How can you be so pretty, so beautiful? How can you feel this good? The way he’s looking at you makes your heart stutter and pussy clench, an act that makes Chan’s head fall back against the cushion as he moans. He’s so handsome, with the way his curly hair clings to his forehead with sweat, his bitten lips and flushed cheeks– it's insane that he can't see how crazy for him you are.

You lean forward to kiss him, bringing one of your hands up to thread your fingers through his hair as your tongue slips past his parted lips. He feels dizzy with pleasure, each of his loud moans and whines muffled only by your lips on his. You’re both panting by the time you separate, with you falling forward and burying your face into his neck.

Your legs and knees quickly begin to scream at you, but you ignore it as best you can in favor of chasing pleasure, bouncing on his cock with all the energy you can muster. You know he won’t last much longer– he was already sensitive to start, and you can feel him twitching and throbbing more and more with each additional motion of your hips.

“Baby, ‘m so close–” Chan whimpers, eyes rolling back when you clench around him harder. “Yeah? Gonna cum again for me, Channie? Gonna cum with me?” you ask as you snake your hand between your bodies, rubbing your clit in quick circles so that you can cum together. He quickly nods and bites his lip, hands squeezing you tighter and hips rising to chase you every time you lift off him.

It only takes a couple more rolls of your hips to have him cumming again, white, hot pleasure coursing through his veins and overwhelming every inch of his body, filling the condom with all he has to give. You follow quickly behind, hips stuttering and losing all sense of rhythm as you ride out your release.

You collapse against his chest with a heavy sigh once you’re done, utterly exhausted from all the effort, but completely satisfied. You’re both breathless, eyes closed as you collect yourselves and racing hearts start to return to normal speed. Well, in Chan’s case it doesn’t completely return to normal; because you’re still naked on top of him, and even after having just had sex, he still can’t believe you’re here with him right now like this.

You lift your hips and let his softening cock slide out of you, laying on Chan’s side with his arm as support so you don’t fall off the sofa. You carefully remove the condom, tying it off and preparing it to be thrown away once you’re ready to get up– for now, you’re too tired to move, and you just want to stay next to Chan for as long as you can.

You lay your leg across his body, cuddling close to him while he continues to support your weight with his arm. “How was it? Fun?” you ask him, smiling when he blushes and looks away, still unable to help being shy even after all you just did together. “Of course, you’re.. incredible,” he answers honestly, chewing on his lip before he continues, “But, were you– ..was I good enough for you..?”

“Channie, are you kidding? You were perfect, I promise,” you assure him, giggling softly when he breathes a sigh of relief. “You get stuck in your head too much, baby,” you continue, absentmindedly tracing circles in his skin as you speak, “I promise you, you could have anyone you want. I mean it when I say you’re perfect.” He still doesn’t quite believe what you’re saying is true, but he can at least accept that you believe it.

But he wonders if you know– it’s not just anyone he wants, but you. He was only able to do this because it was you that offered-–anyone else, and he would’ve instantly turned them down, or wouldn't have been able to enjoy himself if he did accept. Looking at you now reaffirms what he’s long since thought– you’re the only one for him.

“Baby, I want you to be mine-–want you to be my girlfriend,” is what he wants to say– but Chan is much too shy, and can’t bring himself to do it. “C-Can we– can we do this again sometime..?” is what he ends up saying insead. And you smile as you nod, sweetly running your fingers through his messy curls before you give him another kiss, “Course, baby. Anytime you want me, I’m yours.”

network tags: @skzstarnet @ksmutsociety

#“something small” i say as i write 5k more words than intended of pure smut #ksmutsociety #skzstarnet #skz x reader #bang chan x reader #skz smut #bang chan smut #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz fanfic #mdni + divider graphic credit: @cafekitsune

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fullfriendnerdclutch · 2 months

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Artie grinned mischievously as his friends profile started to appear one by one. The app linked to the saved contacts in his phone and somehow they managed to extract a fairly accurate profile of Artie's friends, resulting in a couple avatars that Artie can choose and tweak to his likings. The app, called Chronivac, not only changed Artie's physique to look like a 30+ years old hairy muscle hunk, it also molded the reality in accordance to the final prompt Artie typed in, turning the 20 years old college dropout into a bonafide hunk living life lavishly from workout courses and OF, and he's about to spice things up in the life of his dear friends.

He started from Randall.

He started very methodically as he put Randy as the new name. Then, when the profile options opened, he started his work. Get rid of the glasses. Get rid of that acne scar and blackspot. Retain the face but make the jaw angular. Styling the hair so it's no longer greasy and moppy. Face done, now the body

Randall is quite a perv and his biggest turn-on is big titties, but well, most untouched virgin are perv anyway so maybe he should make Randy turned on with himself by giving him this large pair of muscle tits? Lol, that's hilarious, he thought to himself. Humh.....so maybe keep Randy as a 255 lbs fuckers? Well, turn all the fat into muscle and click "Optimize" because he can't be bothered to perfect Randy's muscle distribution.....hot damn that's one massive unit! Finalize the whole change with the short prompt

"Randy is a gym junkie and absolute freak of nature. He's probably the biggest 20 years old in the entire Americas. He's one of my mentee and he looked up to me as his inspiration, he even will not hesitate to take my cock if I instruct him to do so to get bigger, quite the dumb oaf he is,"

Click Save and then Process. Several seconds later, a transformed Randy appeared in the room that Artie booked for this holiday. Randy appeared to be sleeping while he got altered earlier, Artie just realized it's night time in the States so no wonder Randy is asleep. He will check him out later as he still have several more profile to go

Andy. Oh, yeah, the profile arrangement is based on surnames. Coleman, Randall. Garcia, Andy. Andy is Artie's bestfriend from childhood so Artie knows very well what Andy really wanted to look like.

Keep the name and lineage. A little tweak in his testosterone to boost that facial hair growth and make that balls pumped full faster with mini Garcias. Andy admired his hotter, older brother, Juan, so badass and clearly a true symbolism of what Latin American community deemed as macho, so Randall ensured that whatever feature Juan possessed, Andy is going to make that even better. Thicker hair, more defined abs, bigger biceps, bigger triceps, rounder delts, voice that trembles anyone that hear it, obviously bigger uncut piece of meat, more tattoos, all lodged in as part of the new Andy's persona. The avatar is looking quite a looker already so Artie just added a bit of simple prompt, click the Save button and then Process the changes. Andy suddenly appeared in the day bed next to Artie, still sleeping soundly and Artie just smirked as he continued his work

He tweaked Ollie's profile right after, making the pale and lanky 6'5" Norwegian-Lebanese former ballet dancer to be closer to his Lebanese roots as he shrunk him to a 6'1" muscle daddy. Ollie, or Olaf, quickly turned into Ali, and just like Andy, appeared in the same resort where Artie stayed

Michael is supposedly next on the list, but James is already quite distracting for Artie so he decided to work on James first. He's really not that close to James and to be honest, if it's not because James is Andy's college roommate, Artie probably would have 0 interest to befriend him. He might be clouded with jealousy because Andy seemingly enjoyed James company, and even worse, a little crush on him, but well, with a reality-changing app in the palm of his hands, why should he accept things as it is when he can change it? So, rather than focusing on the physical aspect, Artie simply turned his focus to James mental part. He smirked devilishly as he turned the pretty-much straight James into a horny, lustful bottom. Artie practically emasculated James and he felt zero remorse whatsoever as he then added to the prompt that James tagged along to this trip as he's a clingy cum dump that Michael fucked once in the seedy bar that he and Andy frequented. Yup, that's the plot of his change to the innocent Michael.

Artie quickly tweaked Michael profile, the smallest and shiest one in the friend group is now the horny beast who needs to fuck a hole in daily basis. Artie based all of them in the same city, the same apartment building even and then created this whole backstory of their ascendancy to the top of OF and independent adult industry in Michael's prompt space. When he clicked Process, the sound of James moaning in delight echoed all the way to the swimming pool, Michael is basically fucking the shit out of James

The noise also managed to wake Andy's up. Despite seemingly confused at first, Andy quickly find his senses and instead of freaking out or reacted in surprise, he seems to be very much comfortable and at home. Artie sighed with relief, thrilled that his little handiwork resulted nicely.

It seems like that Andy is totally not aware that his life has been dramatically altered by his own best friend that just whipped out his cock from the swimming shorts he's wearing. With a grin while his right hand started pumping his meaty cock and the phone flipped and locked in the table, Artie said

"Care to help a friend here? We can drench Ali to wake the fucker's up when we are close,"

#chronivac tf #chronivac #reality change #male muscle growth #personality change #male transformation #nerd to jock #fat to fit

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mrrharper · 3 months

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Player Of The Month

You can support me at ko-fi.com/mrrharper

It did not take long.

Jake got a notification saying he'd been chosen as the Player of the Month from the server he's been playing on for months now. He was very excited about this as he's never got any in-game title like that before.

He clicked on the notification and scrolled through all the buzzwords to see what rewards he would be getting. Weirdly, there was no mention of any items, upgrades or other perks. Instead there was a button. "Brand new personalized experience".

Jack eagerly clicked the button, the only option avaliable to him. At first nothing happened and he just assumed the game was loading some new assests which would probably take some time.

Suddenly he felt some buzzing in his head, followed by a sharp pain and a feeling as if his headset was tightening around his head. He was paralyzed by this for a moment, his mind completely losing track of what was happening with his body as it was experiencing sudden sensory overload.

And then he was back in the game, but something was different. He was transported to Iron Gym, a locaton on the opposite side of the map from he was just a minute ago. He looked down and saw that his avatar had changed completely. He tried to access his character menu to see what had happened but he couldn't, so he walked up to a mirror.

In in he saw someone completely different. A young dude, clearly muscular, wearing a backwards cap and a pair of tight compression shorts. He looked like a gym bro! Not only that, he looked pretty similiar to the NPCs that populated this area of the game world, which Jake found very strange. Something went wrong here.

Wait, where was his headset? Jake put his hands on his face, but couldn't find the bulky gear he had to wear to play. What was going on?

A player came up to Jake and chose the option to initiate the conversation.

Jake #27AD0019 turned around to face Player#A97F4. His eyes flashed red, showing he was now in interaction mode.

"ey dude, ya got any issue with me bruh?" he asked, an arrogant streak in his voice. He then waited for the player to choose a response form the dialog tree, entering one of his idling animations, moving slightly from left to right and flexing his bare chest.

"Damn, that's a new one, didn't see this character before here" the player muttered to himself, clearly intrigued by the sudden appearance of a new NPC. He then chose a response.

"No, I just noticed you're a regular here and you seem to be doing pretty good, so I wanted to say hi."

#27AD0019's changed his attitude from annoyed and arrogant to proud and cocky. A new animation was triggered by the player's response, making him flash his teeth in a cocky smile, then flex his arms in a double biceps pose.

"hell yeah bruh, am the top dawg here dude"

The player focused on the NPC's muscular arms, while the character kept them in a flexed position up in the air. Player#A97F4 was starting to enjoy the conversation and knew exactly what dialog option he would choose.

"I see, you clearly work out every day. Your form is very impressive."

This prompted another few animations, in which #27AD0019 flexed his arms, chest and legs, showing off his muscles to the player.

"fuck yeah bro! i lift, like, all day dude, gotta work for guns like this bro huhuhuhuhuhuh" He let out a low, dumb laugh. The player grinned as he saw one of the potential responses he had avaliable.

"So not much happening in your life except the gym, right?"

A few calculations happened int he background that determined whether the NPC would respond positively or with anger. The result then took into account the character's intelligence statistic - 3/10. This gave the player the exact result he was looking for.

"huhuhuh yeah dude, am a real gym bro dude, ain't nothin' more important that liftin' bro. head empty, just gains huhuhuhuhuh" The answer triggered another loop of flexing animations.

#27AD0019 was going to be a very popular NPC.

#jock tf #personality change #gym bro #npc tf

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mostly-imagines · 3 months

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Things About My Jason

aka things that might weasel their way into details of stories one day, might not

your boy is clocking in at six feet three inches and about 235 lbs (he’s the only batkid to be taller than bruce).

he cusses a lot it, usually doesn’t correlate w anger or intensity its just how he expresses himself. he’ll cuss at you sometimes but not at you and he tries his best to never do it out of anger.

he’s never said it out loud but he would drop all the vigilante shit for you in a heartbeat if you wanted him to (i think he’s also the only batfam member who would do that).

you have an agreement in place to never make any big decisions in the middle of the night/post patrol—this came into place after a few too many bad nights had him coming home shaking and panicked about your safety and convinced he needed to leave you alone for good.

he kind of zones out sometimes, its bordering on dissociation.

you have a black cat, salem, that’s been around since before you and jason had even met. his yellow eyes pierce you in a way that feels like he’s glaring straight into your soul and judging what he sees. he was suspicious of jason for a while but over time has come to love and protect jason almost as much as you.

he has a lot of nervous habits that have built up over years of stress and trauma. he’ll often double or even triple check locks and cameras. his hand tends to go to where his gun holster would be, regardless of whether or not its there. he’s very conscious of your breathing, especially when you’re asleep, and when he’s stressed or upset he’ll try to align his breathing with yours. he worries that you might get annoyed with how often he checks up on you, be it asking directly, texting you, or just looking you over to make sure you’re doing okay, that you’re happy. he’s also made a habit of standing directly behind you when you’re wearing anything short, especially skirts or dresses. You’re not entirely sure if it’s intentional or not.

day to day, he runs on very little sleep naturally so he’s awake early goes to bed late. he used to not focus much on making meals that actually taste good and have thought put into them until he started dating you. he started catering his grocery trips specifically with you in mind and the things you might like. he actually prefers going on grocery trips and little mundane errands with you bc he had no idea that these tiny aspects of life could bring him so much joy and peace. he also buys you new towels and updates your first aid kit constantly, though the latter is more out of his necessity than yours. depending on his mood, he’ll usually either take scalding hot or freezing showers.

he’s 100% down to let you decorate the apartment however you want, even if you move into his place. his only ask is that he’s left with space to put his books (of which ne needs plenty). if he had to choose, he probably likes a warm atmosphere best, in terms of like lighting and colors. he’s really just not a fan of anything that feels cold or impersonal like the manor can sometimes seem. other than that he doesn’t really have opinions on it, whatever makes you happy he’ll like. but he’ll still happily go shopping with you to find stuff. but really that’ll just look like you saying “ooh look at this” and him saying “great, lets get it” at every single thing you pick up.

there are unloaded guns and ammo hidden around your apartment and also stocked generously in a closet or two. he cleans them regularly, you think he does it partially as a kind of stress reliever. before you he didn’t have too much regard for his own safety, so he would sleep with one under his pillow.

he does everything he can to keep you safe and he’ll insist on adding extra locks to the doors and windows, ones the landlord wont have keys to. yeah he’s paranoid so he’ll keep the bed as far from the door as possible and is unrelenting in his insistence that you sleep on the wall side. if you’re too tired to move, that’s okay, he’ll gently move you over himself. honestly though, your apartment is just as secure, if not more, than any of his safe houses. as such, he absolutely can and will easily hack into the lobby security cameras to check up on things. if he has to go away for a while he’ll send one of his siblings to stop by to check on you and make sure you're okay.

he prefers to wear layers, it makes him feel more secure and comfortable. he does like cutoff sleeves sometimes but only because you like them on him. aside from that, he’s usually not such a fan of showing much skin because of a) his scars and b) he feels exposed to attacks. he has so many long sleeved and warm clothes in his closet that he heavily encourages you to bundle up in some of them when its cold.

he goes through phases of bad sleep and they can vary greatly in severity. there’s nights he just physically cannot sleep and this usually originates from intense anxiety. these are easier to ease him back from and some simple comforting will be enough to get him to at least try to sleep. most commonly its the nightmares that make it hard for him. it’ll usually be a one-off that he just can’t fall back asleep afterwards. the worst is when he goes through phases of frequent nightmares, like every night, multiple times a night. when that happens, he will do everything in his power to stay awake for as long as he can. you’ve yet to find any techniques that hands down prevent or even slow the nightmares, but you’ve been able to find some remedial measures that work pretty well.

kissing him helps get his mind off scary thoughts (but not joker related) but not just like single peck it’s got to be a whole session to really work. the one that works best is having a hand on one of your pulse points while you sleep, or directly over your heart. unfortunately this did lead to him to accidentally choking you after a particularly bad nightmare. he was absolutely horrified and removed his hands from you completely the second he gained recognition. he actually fully got out of bed and backed away from you. he wouldn’t even hear you out about him not sleeping on the couch and continued to not budge on it for over a week.

him punishing himself like that made you feel extra bad because that had occurred during a round of the relentless nightmares and you were sure he was still waking up panicked constantly without you there to help soothe him. you actually know for a fact he was because every couple of hours the bedroom door would creak open slightly before shutting again like he was checking to make sure you were there and okay. you ended up having to literally lay on top of him on the couch and refuse to leave him for him to agree to sleep in bed with you again, although he was still not willing to fall asleep with his hands on you for a while.

he always needs it to be quiet when he goes to sleep so he can stay on alert which usually leads to him waking up to the littlest sounds, which is technically the point. if there’s any kind of white noise he’ll force himself to stay awake. if he does get woken up he’ll go from 0 to 100 like that. he also needs the door to be shut, non negotiable, and really prefers the apartment to be colder > hotter. it also helps that you’ll cuddle into him for warmth.

all of these things are things he did before you met, but he’d also developed some new habits after you got together. he used to sleep in the middle of the bed but now he absolutely insists that you sleep on the wall side so he can act as a protective barrier between you and any incoming danger. unless its after a rough patrol, he tends to wait to sleep until after you’ve fallen asleep. he doesn’t really have a reason for this, it just makes him feel better.

his relationship with bruce is complicated, of course. in my canon, the extent of it is that bruce didn’t kill the joker, prevented jason from doing it, and has made many attempts to stop jason from killing at all. obviously it’s not the fact that batman won’t let anybody die that broke jason’s heart, it’s that his father couldn’t let go of his moral code for a second and avenge his murdered son. the resulting anger stems from so much sadness and grief over his own death and it caused him to isolate himself even further from bruce. on a conscious level, he wanted to be far away from him emotionally as possible to protect himself while still enacting his own kind of revenge towards bruce. and so yeah, he did try to kill batman a couple times, whatever.

on an unconscious level, he’d hoped that bruce would take the initiative to try to close the space between them and apologize, and while jason didn’t know it yet: that was all he really wanted from him. inwardly, he still cares what bruce thinks and wants his approval and affection but its so conflicting for him. it also doesn’t help that it took bruce such a long time to swallow his pride and even consider that he was wrong before he could apologize. a lot of negotiations had to take place before they could even begin to really reconcile.

about a year later they’d come to a steady, solid agreement that mostly worked for both of them. jason was allowed to kill, but only within his territory in gotham and only under agreed upon circumstances. there’s also a separate rule that jason’s not allowed out on patrol when the joker is loose—it used to be a whole thing before you’d met and oftentimes several bats were assigned to keep him away. even with these guidelines in place, things were still rocky between them and jason had only just started to come back around the manor when he’d met you. honestly you and bruce meeting was a major step in this process and everyone could feel the shift.

his relationship with his brothers is different, but just as complicated. he kind of views dick as being perfect in spite of also acknowledging his flaws. in his head, its sort of like, in comparison to himself, dick had the perfect life with perfect versions of all the same pitfalls jason had to go through. he knows its not really fair to think of it this way, but it’s hard sometimes. all in all though, he does look up to dick a lot.

with tim, he thinks he’s a crazy rich kid—which, fair—but also in a weird way holds a lot of respect for tim for not being afraid of him. realistically, the way jason showed back up and his relationship with tim started is insane, so its even more insane that tim was like ‘yeah, chill’ and that probably jump started their bond as brothers more than anything.

for as much shit as he gives him, he honestly feels really bad for damian and all the shit he was raised believing. he couldn’t quite explain why, but he does see a lot of himself in damian, even past the surface level anger.

he’s not good at resolving fights, his mind tends to jump to the absolute worst and he assumes you’re done with him, you resent him, it’s all over. it was really bad at the beginning of your relationship when he hadn’t even begun to consider that you love him half as much as he loves you. now, you’ve been able to help him understand that you still love him, even when you fight, and fighting does not equal breaking up. however, he still has trouble taking initiative in making amends. not because he doesn’t want to but more so because he feels vulnerable in ways that terrify him, having to acknowledge and speak into existence that he’d done something wrong feels like setting himself up to be exposed with no defense.

another part of him feels like he already hurt you and if he tries to remedy things with you, he could just make it worse. So for a while at least, you’ll have to be the one to start the conversation, though not necessarily meaning you have to apologize first.

as we know, Jason’s not immune to bouts of fear and stress. there’s times when he panics and there’s times when he has full blown panic attacks. the panic attacks are rarer, but much more severe. he’s known to lash out (especially when he’s not at your apartment) and has definitely broken a nose or two of people who got too close/tried to touch him. you’re not sure if it’s an intentional action or not, but he tends to claw at his skin or hit himself in the head when he’s very upset. after going through a couple of these with him, you’ve compiled a thorough list of DOs and DONTs for these times. DONT hold his wrists, move suddenly, touch him without warning, or corner him. DO keep your touches light, words soft, rooms vacant of other people, and loud noises. slowly but surely they’re getting less severe and overcome quicker.

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midnightorchids · 5 months

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I am kinda curious

What would Jason be like if the coffee Cafe owner!reader built in a small library in her Cafe just for him,like she saw he liked reading and went like 'yup. I am building a small library for him'

This is such a fun idea, but omg please forgive me, I went a little overboard. Once I figured out what to write, I couldn’t stop. I apologize for how long it is. Also, this is completely gender neutral, so anyone can read!

But omg also, I was literally kicking my feet and giggling writing the end lol, Anyways enjoy!

Owning a cafe was a difficult job, there was always much to do— customers to attend to, drinks to make, and maintenance to do. You were always busy, but you loved your job.

You had spent a lot of time curating the perfect atmosphere for your beloved customers. The lighting was warm, with fairy lights and lanterns dangling from the ceiling. There was wooden furniture and two old couches that sat by the glass windows. The tiny space smelled of freshly brewed coffee and sweet bread. The cafe was always inviting.

You had many regulars at the coffee shop, each one with their own story, a different purpose.

For the past six months, twice a week, every Thursday and Saturday morning, a tall man walked in. Jason, you recalled his name from the many times you prepared his drinks. He’d order the same thing every time, a small London fog and a walnut banana bread.

He’d sit at the table nearest to the entrance, his back never towards the door.

Every morning, he’d come in with a new book. You had seen him read Franz Kafka, Oscar Wilde and Jane Austen; he’d read a lot of Austen.

He was a mystery and you wanted to know more.

You found Jason quite handsome. His skin was scattered with scars and you often found yourself staring at the permanent wound near his lips. You wanted to run your fingers along it, to trace it, to kiss it.

His eyes were always kind, a deep shade of green, forest-like you’d think to yourself.

He spoke with kindness. His voice velvety and rich, much like the espresso you’d brew everyday, except his voice was never bitter, almost always doused with honey.

Sometimes you’d catch him looking over at the counter, at you, you’d hoped.

Your coworkers were afraid of him, telling you to stay away, but you couldn’t help yourself. He was like an enticing book, waiting to be read. They’d warn you, “do not engage in too much conversation with the strange man.” But it was as if they were talking to a small child, their words would go in one ear and out the other.

“Strange,” you would never use that word to describe him.

From the small talk you had with him, to his choice in books, to even his taste in tea, you’d never describe him as strange.

Gentle was the word you’d choose.

He was huge, all height and muscle, terrifying to most, however to you, he was everything but that. You saw an angel and you didn’t even know him… yet, you’d tell yourself.

There were days, where you almost gained the courage to ask for his number, maybe ask for small detail, perhaps get a glimpse of his life. But each attempt was futile. Why was it so hard to speak to him for more than five minutes, you’d curse your inability to speak to attractive men.

You were beginning to give up on your dreams of getting to know the beautiful stranger, when he walked in through door.

The conversation began as per usual.

“Morning Jason, what can I grab you today,” you asked politely. He smiled softly in return and you stare at the scar by his lip as he begins to speak.

“Uhh surprise me,” you look at him confused, he’s never done that before and he finds himself smiling harder. “Just kidding, I’ll just the take the usual please,” he says as he places his copy of Jane Eyre on the counter to take out his wallet.

“Brontë, why am I not surprised,” you reply, gazing at the book. You take the cash from his hands and your heart drops. Shades of purple and crimson coat his skin. They’re bruised, again.

“What can I say, I’m a man of taste,” he smirks. You roll your eyes and giggle.

“Now who told you that,” and he shrugs. Then there’s a lull, you don’t know what to say now. It isn’t awkward, but you find yourself starting feeling a little uneasy. God, if you only you could come up with something else to say. You shake your head slightly and begin to warm up his banana bread.

You turn around and wait for him to leave, but he doesn’t walk away to his usual table this time, instead he takes a seat next to the counter. Odd, you thought.

Jason’s gaze doesn’t leave you for a second, he watches you in admiration, you don’t quite catch on.

If you thought Jason was handsome, then he thought you belonged in a museum. You were a work of art in his eyes. The kind of beauty they wrote poetry about. Absolutely stunning.

He wanted to get to know you, speak to you, but he was afraid. If you didn’t reciprocate his feelings, then he may never be able to see you again. The trips to the cafe would no longer be necessary and he wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

However today, Jason pushes his fears aside, he feels bold. He finds his confidence and he speaks.

“Do you read much,” he asks suddenly. You place his cup of tea and bread in front of him, and nod your head.

“I do, but not what you read,” you reply and he stares into your eyes, curious. “I mostly read magazines, you know Vogue and stuff,” his smile drops a little, he’s trying really hard to not look judgemental. Cute, you think. “Kidding, I read fantasy mostly,” and his face lights up again.

“So like J.K. Rowling,” he questions.

“No, Harry Potter’s good, but I’m not really a fan of her, you know as a person. I’ve been reading a lot Neil Gaiman recently though,” you say.

“Oh fuck, yeah, she’s said some pretty crazy stuff huh,” and you nod again. “Gaiman though, I don’t think I’ve ever read his stuff before, he any good,” he asks and your eyes go wide, you’re excited.

You spend the next hour of his visit speaking to him about books, about the things that you both like.

You only part from the conversation when there was a customer.

You’ve never felt this way before, all the assumptions you made about him were true. He was an angel, a kind and gentle one.

A month goes by and you notice your relationship with Jason change. Now, instead of sitting by the entrance of the cafe, he sits near you, back against the door. A sign of trust, you assumed. He smiled more, he showed his teeth and he laughed, hard. You loved the sound of his laugh. His eyes looked brighter, greener, emerald-like. He still walked in with a new book, but when the conversation began, it was long forgotten.

You watched his bruises heal and you watched new ones appear, you were always curious, but never had the courage to ask. He’d tell you when he was ready.

As time went by, you found yourself wanting to do something for him, you wanted him to know that you cared. You thought that if your words were going to fail you, then maybe your actions would prove otherwise.

Working a closing shift at the cafe on a gloomy Tuesday evening, you find yourself thinking of different gestures you could do.

Ideas came and left, nothing felt good enough. He deserved the best. Trying to busy your mind elsewhere, you begin to sweep the floors and that’s when inspiration hits you.

There, in the coffee shop, lies an empty corner. An odd spot, not necessarily small, but also not large enough either.

A perfect fit for a decently sized bookshelf. A library, for the community, but most importantly for Jason. You smile to yourself, proud at the thought. He’d love this, you knew he would.

The next morning you find yourself drilling holes into the pale walls of the cafe, trying attach the large shelf you lugged down to the shop.

Once everything was fixed into its rightful place, you begin adding the books, by genre and then by the authors’ last names. You add many of Jason’s favourites, multiple copies of Austen. You add children’s books, comics and something for yourself.

The shelf fits right into the ambiance of the cafe, elevating it honestly. The corner looked cosy and you found yourself wanting to sit by one of the couches with a book and a cup of hot chocolate.

You stare at the shelf once more, proud. Now, you just had to wait.

Jason walks into the cafe the next day, he’s late. He arrives near closing time. It’s just you and him in the cafe, most of your staff left for the day and not many people stayed this late. It’s quiet, the only sound coming from the machines on your side of the counter. He’s holding another book in his hand, but he has no intention of reading tonight.

His hair is slicked back, and there’s a small cut on his forehead. He’s dressed in a white dress shirt and black pants. He looks like he’s coming back from a big event or maybe he’s going to one later. Either way, he looks pretty like this, his arms look more defined and you can make out the muscles on his back when he walks around the room, waiting for his drink.

His eyes wander around the cafe before settling on the bookshelf nestled in the odd corner. His eyes soften, he’s never noticed that before, it must be new, he thinks.

“When’d you get this,” he asks, his fingers running along the spines of the books. He’s smiling, there’s so many books.

“Yesterday, it’s for you,” you say, holding your breath. This is it, the moment you’ve been preparing for.

“For me,” he looks over at you as you settle his tea on the counter. You begin walking over to his side, slowly, riddled with nerves.

“Yes, since you’re always here, I thought you’d like having a book shelf here. It’s like a library, you take a book and then you-“ he cuts you off suddenly.

“You made a library for me in your cafe, are you serious,” he’s trying to hold back a smile, you can tell. His scar gets more prominent when he does that. “Why,” he as asks, his voice is soft, it feels like warm milk with honey, comforting.

“You’re gonna make me say it,” you can’t see your face, but it feels hot, you can tell you’re blushing.

“Yeah, say it. Why is there a library in your cafe for me,” he says, enunciating the words “your” and “for me.” He’s smirking now. He knows the answer, he just wants to hear it from you.

The point of the library was to not have to say anything, for your actions to speak for you, but here you are. Ears burning and palms clammy.

“I…,” you trail off, you look around the room, anywhere but his face. He notices and walks closer, his hands gently make their way around your waist.

“Say it,” he exclaims, it’s not forceful, he’s smiling and shades of pink dust his cheeks.

You close your eyes shut, fuck, you’re going to have to say it.

“I really like you jas-,” and with that, his lips find their way to your own. You move in harmony, much like matcha and oat milk. His lips are sweet, he tastes like the banana bread, he decided to eat while pacing around the cafe. Your hands find their way to his shoulders, you pull back and smile. You peck his lips. Once where the scar is and once more on the centre. He grins.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear that from you,” he mumbles against your lips, waiting for you to kiss him again.

And you do, you kiss him again and again.

#gn!reader #jason todd #red hood #jason todd imagine #red hood imagine #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd headcanon #red hood headcanon #batfam

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starrystevie · 1 year

Text

18+ | explicit sex & smoking | read here on ao3

it's 1996 when steve's world gets turned upside down again.

or, well, technically it's a few minutes into '97 when everything changes. he's at a new years party that his ex timothy is hosting and everyone is still hooting and hollering as they ring it in, pressing sloppy kisses to cheeks and lips with arms hooked around necks.

steve doesn't get kissed. not because people aren't eyeing him with a smirk and mischief and open arms of their own. no, he doesn't let himself get kissed because something feels... off about the night. the energy is weird, buzzing through his skin like electricity, keeping him on edge in a way he hasn't been since he left hawkins for boston in the fist place.

it isn't long until he figures out why.

timmy is walking up to him with his hands on some guy's shoulders, pushing him backwards with a wide smile like he's trying to convince him of something. the guy is about his height, short cropped dark hair and a leather jacket, the sight of his back alone getting steve excited. timmy always did know his type to a t.

"hey!" timmy yells over the music as he catches steve's eye. "got someone for you to meet."

once the guy turns around, the smiles on both steve and the mystery guy's faces fall before their minds catch up with them and plaster them back together. even with the short cropped hair, even with the piercing in his eyebrow, even with the stubble spreading over his defined jaw, steve would know that face, that heartbeat, anywhere.

"steve, i wanted to introduce you to someone. jamie, this is steve, you know... the guy i was telling you about?"

timmy's trying to be helpful, not even attempting to be subtle as he pushes the two closer together with a wide grin. steve's going on autopilot, reaching out a hand to grab the one outstretched towards him, but his brain is going a million miles a minute.

"nice to meet you, steve," eddie, or... jamie, says, palm pressed tightly against his own.

steve can't say anything, focusing too much on the warmth on his palm and the way his deep voice shakes through him like thunder and the way he feels like he's 19 again with a stuttering heart.

"what are-" he starts.

eddie shakes his head and tugs on steve's hand. "not here. come on."

they end up in a secluded corner, close enough that steve can smell smoke and leather polish and the sharp bite of his cologne. close enough that he can see the lines starting to appear on the corners of eddie's eyes, the stray grey hairs popping up in his beard, the questions swirling behind his eyes.

"eddie."

"jamie," is all he says back, not even bothering to look away from steve's eyes. "it's jamie now."

they both sigh like they don't know where to start because they don't. steve grapples with all the questions in his mind before settling on one. the one that tore through him late at night. the one that stayed on the tip of his tongue anytime he heard a van backfire or metallica.

"where did you go?" he knows it sounds like an accusation because it is. he doesn't let himself feel bad when eddie (jamie) flinches.

"feds," he replies easily, sneaking a cigarette out of his pocket and putting it between his lips. he tilts his head back to light it away from steve's face, blowing smoke up towards the ceiling. "once i got better, they scooped me up and brought me to boston. new name, new hairstyle, new life. at least they let me choose my name so i didn't get stuck with some thing awful."

steve snorts. "so you ended up with 'jamie' how?"

"middle name's james. it just made sense." he says it with a shrug and puffs at his cigarette again.

they look at each other for a moment. steve watches his tongue flit out of his mouth to wet his lips, watches the overhead lights glint off the metal of a surprise tongue piercing, watches his throat swallow around nothing but spit.

he can see, feel, eddie doing the same. he hams it up, pulls his lip between his teeth and makes it a show, looks back up at eddie from under his lashes. takes in a deep breath when eddie inches closer to him until their hips are bumping and steve plucks the cigarette out of his lips for a puff of his own.

he's 19 again, in love or like or lust with a boy in a leather jacket that has the world against him. he's 19 again, working a hand over himself to thoughts of his crush who up and vanished without so much as a goodbye. he's 19 again, crying after he comes, wishing he could go back in time before he met curly hair and a battle vest.

"so how do you know tim?" eddie whispers like he has to be quiet even though the part is loud and no one could hear them if they tried.

"how do you know him?" steve asks back, blowing out smoke and putting the cigarette back between eddie's barely spread lips.

his eyes flick down to look at steve's still pursed lips from when he angled the smoke over his shoulder. "we used to fuck, once upon a time when i first got to boston."

steve hums like it's the answer he expected and maybe it is. "same here. dated for about a year."

eddies eyes grow wide and his hip bumps into steve's like it's a question in and of itself and maybe it is. "didn't know you swing that way, harrington."

"well, you don't really know anything about me then, do you? didn't back then either, munson."

his eyes goes even wider, something like fear and shame and comfort and hope swimming in them. "leonard. it's leonard now."

steve hums again, says 'jamie leonard' like he's feeling it out on his tongue. tasting it between his teeth. teaching his mouth how to form the words instead of what he really wants to say like 'eddie' or 'munson' or 'i'm still somehow in love with you no matter your name'.

"jamie leonard," he says again, breath hitting eddie's lips. he shivers when he sees his lips part a bit more like he wants to swallow the sound and air that steve gives him. "we have a lot to catch up on, don't we?"

steve's apartment isn't all that big, isn't exactly small either but it has everything he could possibly need. he has a living room that looks out over the harbor and a kitchen with all new appliances and eddie munson naked in his bedroom. you know, the essentials.

their clothes are all over the floor, eddie's motorcycle helmet flung somewhere in the vague direction of the armchair in the corner but the smack it makes when it hits the wall makes steve think there's probably a hole in the drywall.

but eddie's sucking on his cock, hands wrapped around his thighs as he takes him even deeper, eyes flicking up to meet steve's, beard scratchy as it rubs against his sensitive skin. he's never been blown by someone with a tongue piercing but he doesn't think he can ever go back now.

the last thing on his mind is wondering if there's a hole in the goddamn wall.

"oh fuck, yeah there you go. feels so goddamn good," steve breathes out as he feels the back of eddie's throat on his cockhead. he tangles a hand as best he can in his short dark hair to try and coax him even deeper. eddie hums at either the praise or the tug on his hair or the way it feels as he works his tongue over steve's cock and it makes him jolt unexpectedly.

if he could go back in time and tell his 19 year old self that eddie was alive, that he was okay and breathing and learning how to suck cock like a goddamn professional, he'd do it in a heartbeat. save himself a few years of pining and fly straight out to boston to see it for himself. he's sure robin would have preferred to not have to listen to his whining everyday about brown eyes and dark curls.

eddie brings a hand to cup his balls, finger teasingly pressing into steve's taint, bobbing his head eagerly like he wants him to come in his mouth, but steve has other plans. he tugs eddie off of his cock quickly, lines of thick spit falling between them and sticking to his chin before crowding him up against the pillows.

steve kisses like he's dying and eddie is survival. he kisses him like he is drowning and eddie is the shore that he's clawing his way towards. he kisses him like 19 year old steve could only dream about.

soon enough, steve's sliding into him with a groan that he lets eddie swallow from him. the headboard knocks heavily into the wall a few times making even more possible holes, but all steve can focus on is the heat around him, the way eddie's whines bounce off the walls of his too empty bedroom and cover him like a blanket.

he likes fucking this way. he likes being able to watch as someone's face contorts into pleasure, like to see eyes rolling back and mouths dropping open and sweat beading around their hairline. likes seeing eddie fall apart.

"steve, oh my god," eddie's voice is still deeper than he's used to as he moans so he angles his hips up more to hear it again, the low timbre snaking through his veins and leaving fire in its wake. "don't stop."

"i won't," he groans into eddie's open mouth. "wanted this for so long, for fucking 11 years, not giving you up yet."

it's a bit more open than steve normally is when he first fucks someone but this isn't just someone. this isn't fucking a stranger he picked up in a bar that had almost the right shade of brown eyes and patches on his jacket that are almost the right shape. this is eddie. his eddie. or well... jamie.

"fuck, i'm gonna date you so fucking hard, harrington. yeah, right there keep going, shit-"

he's babbling as steve works his hips faster, tangling their free hands together to press above their heads on a pillow, and it's everything steve could have asked for. hearing his name fall from the lips he's dreamed about for years, sharing the same air as they breath into one another.

he thought he was over it, thought he had moved on at least a little bit from a halfway stranger he knew in his teens, but with the way they're both looking straight into each other's eyes begging each other to see them, he thinks they might both be back in 1986.

"what do-" steve cuts himself off as he whimpers, close, so close to the finish line. "what do you want me to call you? is it jamie or-"

he's shaking his head on the pillow, leaning up to bite at steve's lips and pull it between his teeth. he looks serious and certain when he says, "no, that name's not for you, it's... i need-"

steve brings his hand down to work over his cock and revel in the way his eyes roll back until he can only see white. he hits something that makes his eyes fly back open and he gets to see his favorite shade of brown again.

"eddie," he whispers. leaning down quickly, steve presses a kiss to his ear before whispering his favorite name there too. "eddie, baby, come on. let me... come on, eddie."

it feels silly to be chanting a name of a ghost as intensely as he is. but he can see it crawl over eddie like it's bringing him back to life. like he isn't bones on the ground in an alternate dimension. like he isn't a plain headstone in a graveyard next to a forgotten trailer park. like he isn't playing pretend with a fake name and a fake life.

steve says eddie and it brings him home.

afterwards, they lay together in steve's probably too soft bed, tears drying on both of their cheeks as they catch up. as they tell each other secrets that their younger selves could never dare. as the piece together the lives they have and the lives they want to have and slot each other into the mix.

steve has a hand in eddie's hair, eddie has one trailing over steve's arm that's slung over his chest. he's always been a fan of cuddling after sex.

"y'know," eddie mutters, "tim's been trying to get me to meet his hot teacher friend for months now."

steve hums, presses a kiss to his temple. "and he's been trying to get me to meet his hot motorcycle tech for months, too."

there are a few holes in the walls from the headboard and eddie's helmet, but steve thinks that they can patch those up, too.

he's still jamie leonard to the outside world. he's still a guy who doesn't have much family other than a mysterious uncle in indiana and doesn't have many friends other than ex boyfriends. he still introduces himself with a handshake and says a fake name like it's real.

but when he gets home, when he crawls onto a couch that overlooks the harbor and has arms wrapped around him, he gets to be eddie munson once more. and with the ghost of a man in his arms, steve harrington feels more like himself than he ever thought he would.

#this was going to be something entirely different but i couldn't stop myself so.... here u go #steddie #my writing #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie drabble #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #steddie smut #unedited so pls ignore any typos teehee

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