#and that….oh Jesus fuck me lol I don’t know if there’s a fic I didn’t read years ago in my hay day

[msenglishgent]

Literally this is going to take my entire life lmao

how will I even go n find the ones from my deep spirk days some years ago… pray for me…

(also I added an emoji system)

[boulevardk]

Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy (preview)

Pairing: Gojo x reader (afab)

Genre: cowboy!gojo x bandit!reader + smut

Word count: uhh like 1.7k (haven't finished the full fic yet lmao we'll see what the wc gets to)

Summary: how does the strongest fare in the wild, wild West as the newest sheriff? we're about to find out!!

a/n: shout out to whoever made this fanart bc jesus fucking christ. i have more written for this fic so I'll post it in the next day or so I just wanted to give a preview lol this isn't proofread my apologies

xx Jay

---

You were fucked. And, fuck, did you know it. 

“You idiot!” you cursed, “Do you wanna die? How could you be so stupid?”

Your partner in crime (literally) turned to you with a crazed grin on his face, high on the rush. “What? Don’t tell me you’re scared of some little sheriff.”

The sheriff, in question, is none other than Gojo Satoru. Not only was he the youngest sheriff in the region, but he was an incredible shot and phenomenal horseback rider. The man was known all throughout the west for his strength, wit, and impeccable skill as a marksman. And he just so happened to be the man hunting you down as you speak.  

“Am I scared? Am I scared?” you yell in disbelief, “Hell fucking yeah I’m scared! You just had to rob that bank, didn’t you? Toji, this is insane. We’re going to die, and it’s all because you wanted a little extra cash to blow at some saloon since you’re shit at cards and are always too drunk to make a reasonable gamble!”

His eyes widened at your statement, “I’m just down on my luck that’s all!” 

You roll your eyes and continue pacing around the small room, almost internally counting down the minutes until you're inevitably caught and thrown in a cell to rot. Maybe Toji could tough it out in jail (assuming he wasn’t hanged for his crimes), but you knew you weren’t cut out for that kind of life. It’s not like you meant to get caught up in this life, after all. A few bad decisions led to this nightmare of a reality, and now you were about to ride this sinking ship with the buffoon in front of you who was pushing 40 and still thought it was a good idea to devote the little cash he had on reckless gambling instead of caring for the adorable, perpetually scowling son he left behind to pursue a life of crime. 

“Don’t give me that look, doll,” his tone is sickly sweet but showing no real affection or warmth. “Don’t forget that you’re an accomplice in this crime too. Who was in the carriage waiting for me when I ran out of the bank with the cash, huh? Oh, that’s right! It was you!”

Running your fingers through your hair, you sit down and rest your head in your hands. “Don’t remind me, asshole,” you spit out, tone equally as harsh. “You think I wanted this? I didn’t know you were gonna do that shit! I owed you a favor- one favor, Toji! What, you think because I owed you one, I wanted to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder for the most feared sheriff in the west? Believe it or not, but I don’t want to live this way!”

He huffs and sticks a cigar in his mouth, lighting it and letting out a puff of smoke before meeting your eyes again, “Well, tough shit, doll. This is the hand you were dealt, and now you’ve gotta decide whether or not you’re gonna fold.”

You roll your eyes, sensing a migraine coming on. “Shut the fuck up with your poker references, Toji. You’re not good enough at any card game to warrant that kind of talk.”

“Bitch,” he mutters under his breath.

You turn around and are about to rip into him when you hear the sound of incoming horses and a voice call out, “They’re just up ahead!”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Toji curses as he puts out his cigar and stands up hastily. He looks around the room frantically and meets your eyes before darting out of the shared space.

“Fuck! Toji, come back!” you shout as you rush after him. You’re not all that well-versed on running from the police given you’ve literally never had a reason to do so. To say you’re relying on Toji to get you two out of this predicament is an understatement. After all, that man has committed more crimes than interacted with his own son. 

Running out of the room and following his footsteps, you exit out the backdoor. Your jaw drops to the ground at the sight in front of you. Toji’s sat on top of your very own horse, grabbing her by the reins and turning to you with a devilish smirk on his face. “Sorry, doll, I gotta cut ties here. ‘Can’t afford to get caught, you know? I’m sure you understand. Let me borrow your horse, yeah? I owe ya one.” 

You can’t even fully process his words, you’re seeing red with the amount of rage consuming you. Frozen in place, you watch Toji ride away on your horse, effectively abandoning the house that was about to be raided by police. 

Toji gets a fair distance away from the house before you hear the same voice yell, “There he is! You lot track him down. I’ll stay back and search the rest of the house. He had an accomplice. I’m sure they’re hiding out here somewhere.”

As soon as the man is done speaking, you hear multiple horses run off in Toji’s direction. You’re scared shitless of what’s to come. You just know the man about to search the house is the famous sheriff you had just been professing your fear of to that backstabbing bum who stole your fucking horse. Even though you know you’re thoroughly, laughably, undeniably fucked, you can’t help but laugh internally at the thought of Toji being captured by the sheriff’s men. You hope they don’t hurt your horse, although you doubt she’ll be yours much longer since you’re about to be sent off to jail. 

Cutting your losses and acknowledging defeat, you walk back into the house, ready to face the renowned sheriff. Walking back into the kitchen, your footsteps alert the man of your location, and he makes his way into the room. 

If you weren’t scared out of your mind at what’s to come, you might have started drooling, honestly. If this man weren’t known for his near superhuman abilities, he would have been known for his looks alone. You had never seen or even heard about a man that looked like him. He had bright white hair that peaked out from his hat. His skin was so fair and beautiful you swore he was made of porcelain. His lips were a pretty pink that somehow had a glimmering shine to them. He wore black denim with a black button up, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing his large hands and delectable arm veins. For a reason unknown to you, he wore a blindfold over his eyes. You could only wonder what his eyes looked like, although you imagined they were as beautiful as the rest of him. 

He looked unreal. This whole situation felt unreal. You still hadn’t wrapped your head around the fact that you were about to be arrested let alone the fact that you were standing in a room with a man that looked like that.

“Well, well,” Gojo chuckles, “Here I was thinking Toji’s accomplice had to be some ugly brute with a tobacco addiction. But here you are instead.”

You rocked on the balls of your feet out of nerves, “I- I’m sorry to disappoint.”

He laughs fully this time. “And a sense of humor, too? What did Toji do to get you roped into this in the first place, huh?”

Your eyes widen slightly at this. It’s like he could see right through you. Was it that obvious that you didn’t live a life of crime? You suppose it’s times like this where your naturally expressive face and body language actually benefited you, as Gojo must have known about the true nature of your involvement just by the way you reacted to his presence. 

“I, um…” you tried to pick your words in a way that made you look the least guilty of committing a crime. “I only agreed to help him since I owed him a favor…”

This seemed to pique Gojo’s interest. “Oh? And what did the lying, deceitful, manipulative, gambling addict do to earn a favor from a pretty girl like you?”

Your face flushes when you process his words. Warranted and accurate insults about Toji aside, the human embodiment of perfection called you pretty. 

You must have been frozen in place for a second or two because when you blink again, Gojo is standing closer to you and leaning inward, “Are you with me, sweetheart?”

Eyes widening, you nod your head vigorously and elicit another chuckle from the man. 

“Well,” you sigh after being able to mentally calm yourself, “he helped my family in a tough situation. My mother was very sick, and Toji just so happened to have the proper remedies to heal her…”

Although you can’t see his eyes, you can tell that Gojo raises his eyebrows in curiosity, and his silence prompts you to continue.

“Believe me, I never wanted to help him out. Or, at least, when I agreed to help him, I had no idea he was gonna drag me into this mess. But I couldn’t just walk around my house and pass by my mother without thinking that, if it weren’t for that lunatic, she wouldn’t be with us anymore.”

Gojo hums and brings his hand to his chin as if in thought. “I bet your family would be pretty disappointed to see you now though, right? Doing all this for your mother is admirable, but you still committed a crime… What kind of sheriff would I be if I just let you off the hook because you told me some sob story and batted your eyelashes at me, hm?”

You didn’t know how to react to his words. Sure, he’s right, your family would be disappointed to see you in this position. You’d never gotten into any sort of trouble before- certainly never done anything illegal. 

“You thought you owed a simple favor, sure… But last time I checked, the pathway to heaven wasn’t paved with good intentions.” he tuts. “But jail time seems a little harsh, no? What do you think we can do to solve this little problem?”

Your heart is beating so hard that you wonder if Gojo could hear it from where he stood. “Please, I’ll do anything. I’ve never broken the law before, and I can’t afford to leave my family and go to jail.”

“Anything, huh?” Gojo smirked and pulled down his blindfold to reveal the most striking, beautiful eyes you have ever seen in all your life. “Well, how could I turn down an offer like that?”

---

i want him on me and in me I need him carnally I want him in my guts, so deep in me that I feel him in my throat okay bye I'll release the full fic soon lmao <3

[pictureinme]

Can we get Robert Fischer obsessed with a cam girl?

thank u so much for this idea omg ... i had so much fun w this !! also u have the honor of being my first fischer fic LOL

superstar

robert fischer x camgirl!reader word count: 1.2k tags: male masturbation, sex toys (vibrator), overstimulation, camming

(ao3)

Robert lets out a groan as he watches you through his monitor. You had just started streaming, still completely clothed, but he couldn’t resist how you teased at your hardening nipples through your top. Scantily clad, of course, you never were the type to dress modestly for these shows.

He had been watching you for about a month now, turning notifications on almost immediately. The way you would fit all these toys inside yourself with almost no difficulty, and yet still sound so authentic– Robert could be falling in love at this point. Don’t even get him started on your angelic face, he has never seen someone quite like you. If he had, he would’ve been married a long time ago.

“So many people already… and even some new faces!” You grin and begin to hike your pathetic excuse for a skirt up your thighs, revealing the tiniest of panties. “Of course, my favorite supporter is here too. Hi, fischbait!”

“Fuck…” Robert covers his mouth with his hand as his length twitches at you simply uttering his screen name. He knew it was unavoidable that you would notice him– every stream he would send you a minimum of 500 bucks. It didn’t matter if you did anal or anything out of the ordinary, Robert just loved seeing that look in your eyes when you hear that telltale notification sound.

Sometimes he would send messages along with the donations, telling you to buy a specific kind of toy or outfit. Most often, though, he was a silent supporter.

“I think you’re really gonna like what I have in store, you guys,” Robert watches as you move your panties to the side, revealing a vibrator already inside of you, “Whoever gives the biggest donation gets to control this little thing. How cute is that?”

He scrambles closer to his desk, making sure he heard that right. Messages flood in the chatbox:

come on, we all know who’s gonna control it

Just want to see you happy, pretty girl :)

do we even have a chance against that rich fuck lol

even if i control it for just one second, ill be so happy

Yeah, Robert heard you loud and clear. He knows no one will even come close to the amount he could donate, but he decided to keep it lower than what his dirty mind wanted. He watches as the donations pour in rapidly, only reaching a measly 300. Didn’t they realize you deserve so much more?

“Jesus, I always gotta step up to the plate, don’t I?” He chuckles to himself as he sends in his amount of cash, waiting for your reaction.

You’re already moaning halfheartedly due to the other donators’ actions, but your eyes widen in what seems like genuine shock when you see a notification you have never seen before:

fischbait donated 1,000 bucks!

“Holy fuck, thank you, f– ah!”

As soon as the control prompt showed up on his screen, Robert couldn’t resist making the vibe go to the highest setting, even if it was for just half a second. He bit his lip as he watched you recover from the sudden stimulation, your breathing ragged.

“Oh, thank you so much, fischbait,” you smile widely, opening your legs even further, “Treat me nicely, okay? Or don’t…”

Robert’s hand drops from his mouth to palm at his hardness. He wanted you to pay attention to him only, and he was finally gonna have that. He moves the vibrator’s settings to something more realistic and watches as you begin to grab at your chest.

“Feels so good, fuck," you pull down your top, revealing your tits to Robert– well, everyone, but he didn't want to think about that right now. "You're so good to me…"

"Yeah, just like that, (Y/N)," he takes his cock out from his increasingly uncomfortable slacks, quickly fisting it. "Show me your pretty tits, yeah…"

Robert waits for you to get comfortable with the speed he set, just to move it up by one. Your thighs tremble slightly, he could tell you were holding back. He sees you getting even wetter around the toy, glistening in the soft light of your room– it could be a studio, for all he knows. Robert's donations could certainly fund that. He acts like that idea didn't send a jolt through his body.

"Fuck, fuck," your head rolls back slightly, revealing your damp chest even further, "I think I'm gonna come already. God, don't stop!"

He couldn't care less that he was in his office and that his godforsaken secretary could walk in with some useless papers for him to sign at any given moment– he needed to make you come over and over again. Robert’s tip was leaking profusely, but his grip stopped him from doing anything prematurely. Maybe he wanted to be caught with his dick in his hand, what could anyone do about it?

Robert ups the setting again and watches you convulse around the tiny thing inside you. Uncontrollable moans and whimpers come out of his speakers at an embarrassing volume, but he’s only focused on keeping his pumps in time with your trembling. You babble nonsense as he brings the vibrations down somewhat, but not turning it off.

“Please, please, please… it’s so much!”

With his unoccupied hand, Robert quickly types into the chatbox:

Beg for me to stop if you want it so bad.

Your eyes glance at your own monitor, and you bite your lip before you respond, “Please, fischbait, don’t… don’t stop. Make me come again, okay? I want it so bad it hurts, please– fuck!”

He turns it to a pulsing setting, and you collapse back onto your plush duvet. Robert fists his length as you shake, the two of you practically moaning in sync. The wet sounds he was creating echo in his office as he chases his release, trying his best to time it with yours.

“I’m coming, God, I’m coming, please!”

Robert comes with a loud groan just as soon as you do, his release spilling all over his pristine desk. He continues to pump himself as you come down from your high, almost overstimulating himself to the point of incoherence.

You rise slowly from your bed, giggling tiredly, “Jesus fuck, thank you all so much for your… generous donations. I think I’m all tuckered out!”

He calmed his breathing only to hear your fucked out voice– which had him already preparing for another hard-on. “God, (Y/N)...”

“I’m gonna head out for the night,” you got closer to the camera, winking, “See you all next week, yeah?”

The camera clicks off, and he leans back in his chair, exhausted. Taking in the mess on his table, Robert realizes something. He never had a sense of clarity after orgasming with you, there were no regrets to be had. The things he’d do just to have you in his arms…

His reverie is interrupted by a ping! from his desktop, a message landed in his inbox.

today’s stream was perfect thanks to you, honey! you always treat me so well. i’d love to get to know you better ;)

Tonight was far from over.

[roanniom]

Ok, hear me out (not a request just a thought I can't get out of my head - do what you want with it!) just crawling up to Eddie where he sits, manspreading on the couch, kissing his legs wherever the rips and holes in his jeans are until you come to the belt - getting it open and just ... swallowing him whole!

Ok hear ME out though.

More Sensitivity

Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, groping, knee worship (? Is that a thing? Is this weird? Lol I don’t care), hypersensitivity, hand job, blow job

Crawling to Eddie across the cheap carpet in your first apartment. He sees you under the paper back he was reading and drops it, eyes widening. His legs spread a bit farther apart as you near him on your hands and knees.

“Hey there, Princess…” he trails off hesitantly. You continue making your way lithely across the floor to him, sitting up and perching on your heels when you reach the space between his socked feet.

“Hey handsome,” you say quietly, a smile on your face. You kiss your way up from his mid calf, pressing lips to denim, until you reach his knees.

You place a delicate kiss to the skin exposed by the rip there, making eye contact before placing your teeth over the exposed thread, lifting up and pulling to rip the hole wider.

Eddie’s eyes widen even further at the action and his chest begins moving up and down as his breathing kicks up, watching you.

“What are you…?”

You do the same to the other knee, ripping the hole open further with your teeth until both knee caps are fully exposed. Then, still maintaining eye contact, you place a hand over the hardening bulge in his jeans before dropping your head down to suck a wet kiss right on the side of his left knee.

“Holy fuck. Jesus Mary mother of - oh god.”

Eddie grips his thighs with white knuckles as you continue to lick and suck at his exposed knees, moving from one to the other while you palm at his hard on. His hard on which has swollen to the point way past comfort within the confines of his tight black jeans. He can’t tell if it’s the actual placement of your lips, or your pointed crotch rubbing or the look in your eyes as you gaze up at him from on your knees, but Eddie’s fucking gone.

Right when he thinks he’s going to bust in his jeans, you rock forwards off your heels and lift up onto your knees. You make quick work of his button and zipper and efficiently pull his aching dick out into the open air.

Licking a teasing little circle into the underside of his purpling mushroom head, you drop a teasing hand to one of his now well-loved knees. When your finger lightly traces the outline of the widened hole in his jeans, Eddie’s hips buck towards your face of their own accord. You close a hand around his shaft and begin pumping him in earnest.

“W-what are you doing to me?” Eddie asks, dropping lower in his seat on the couch, legs splaying even wider as his hips spasm into your grasp, seeking more more more. “How are you - shit.”

You suck another hickey into his knee and he’s bucking, yet again, into your fist. You smile at him from where you rest your chin on his knee. Thumb smoothing over the pool of precum collecting at his slit.

“Like it?” you ask teasingly. Innocently. As if you haven’t just wrecked him and made him both deliriously turned on and incredibly confused.

“How did you know to do that?” he sputters. You’re jerking him in earnest now, shuffled forward between his thighs and placing light, licking kisses to his tip. You shrug.

“ I didn’t. You just kept reacting so I kept going,” you answer simply, before wrapping your lips around the head of his cock.

He cums down your throat with barely time for a strangled warning not a minute after ♥️

~*~

Lmao I am so sorry for this.

Btw this is NOT the follow up to Sensitive, the fic where you discover Eddie’s ears are sensitive. This is completely stand alone and created because I am a menace.

[hadassah4ever]

Warnings: Virginity loss, shameless breeding kink, corruption kink, age gap (I imagine reader as 18, so legal, but not moral.), very dub-con, Kai calls you a “little girl”, Kai being sexist as hell bc he’s Kai lol, idk if i’m missing any, plz forgive me 💀

Author’s note: A ‘porn with barely any plot’ fic I wrote in like an hour that I barely proofread, enjoy. 👍👍 (Kai is as nice as he can get in this.)

W.C.: 1.2k

18+

——

Nobody respected me in the cult. Whatsoever.

I felt it deep in my bones, I didn’t really know if it hurt me or if that’s what I should’ve expected joining a group based on murder, when even I knew I couldn’t bring myself to hurt someone. It was a miracle they even kept me around, and even I didn’t know why they did.

After another meeting, I felt Kai place his hand on my shoulder and mutter something in my ear about having a meeting in the basement, and all of a sudden, I knew it. He was either going to make a move on me, or kill me. Maybe both.

Eventually we ended up in the basement, the door closed and locked.

“I think you know why we’re down here, don’t you?” He asked, condescendingly.

“I’m not too sure what to think anymore, divine ruler.” I replied, trying to keep my tone steady to give an heir of confidence. He let out a short, menacing laugh. “Oh, you know why. You’re too docile to kill anyone, the only reason I’ve kept you here is because you are the one who will carry my child, my messiah. No debate.” My head spun a bit at his intimidating tone.

I silently nodded. There really was no debate, begging would do no use and there really was no leaving the cult, apart from in a body bag. “God you’re perfect. If I’d met you earlier you would’ve probably had a ring by now. I’ve always wanted a woman who submitted to men, like you.” He spoke through a smug smile, standing up and walking over to me, gazing down at me.

“Have you ever fucked a guy before?” He asked, even though he probably knew the answer to that question. I shook my head, looking up at him, “No, divine leader.” I softly muttered. As soon as those words fell from my lips he dove down to my level and began making out with me, his tongue sliding its way into my mouth, my inexperience showing itself to him.

Eventually we broke apart and he looked at me with a mundanely terrifying smile, which completely scared me. “Strip.” He commanded. I stood up and began to nervously undress which amused him completely. Amused might even be an understatement, he looked at my bare body with what could only be described as the complete embodiment of lust, my trembling shoulders enticing him.

He walked over to me slowly, unbuttoning his pants and pulling his underwear down to just under his balls, his cock springing free. “Lay down.” He spoke, his tone became more smug but softer in a way, as he knew I would follow his orders. And I did. I laid down, the cold floor startling me, making me shiver for a split second.

“I’m going to be nice to you, sweetheart. You’ve been so compliant, I’m going to start off slow.” He told me, sounding like he wanted to win an award for ‘Not The Meanest Cult Leader Ever’. “Thank you, divine leader.” I spoke, not trying to make him angry and lose out on the not-so-painful impregnation he was about to perform. “Such a sweet girl, Jesus.” He was kneeling over my body, knees right next to my neck, and he began to push his cock into my mouth, the odd, slightly unpleasant taste coating my mouth.

He slowly pushed it in until he reached my throat, I coughed around his dick, certainly feeding his ego. He began to speed up, him thrusting into my mouth and me trying to hold back gags and coughs, until he stopped, pulling out of my mouth. “I’m saving my cum for your pussy.” He chuckled, smugly. He stood up and kneeled by my closed legs, pushing his hands between them and pulling them apart.

“You have the prettiest pussy, I can’t wait to see it stuffed full.” His colourful speech slightly shocked me, but I laid there, almost catatonic. He was slightly displeased with my lack of thanking him, but pushed his fingers against my clit anyways, making small circles.

I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel good, my toes twitched, almost curling in repressed moans, the most noise I let out was small whimpers as he continued to play with my clit, he moved his face up to mine, placing another kiss on my lips. “You’re so adorable, I don’t know why I haven’t made you do this before.” He chuckled, one of his fingers entered me and I arched my back, squealing quietly.

He pumped his finger into me deeper and explored me, trying to find the spots that made me moan. “You’re so tight, I don’t know how I’ll even fit inside you.” He laughed, darkly. Before I could orgasm, he pulled his finger from my hole, I panted and just looked up at the ceiling. I felt his cock enter me, I gasped at the sensation of him stretching me out, and the new feeling of a cock inside of me. Even he had to pause for a second, but the break didn’t last long, as he began to slowly push his dick fully into me, making me squirm and let out slightly louder moans.

“My god I love corrupting little girls like you, I love feeling the stretch of virgin pussies, but fuck I’ve never felt a pussy strech as perfectly for me as yours has. You’re made for me, you little cock slut.” He spoke while grunts interrupted his dirty speech. My breaths were shallow and filled with pleasure as he pumped himself into me, continually getting faster and harder, his balls slapping against the skin of my ass.

He let out a low groan as he filled me up completely with his cock, he moved to push my thighs against my chest and my calves over his shoulders. “I can’t fucking wait to see your tits fill with milk and your stomach swell with my messiah.” He panted, slapping one of my breasts as he continued thrusting into me deeply.

His pace started getting unsteady and sloppy, in limbo between getting faster and getting slower. He started pounding into me, primal grunts filling the room. His fingers moved to my clit again, doing the same circles he was just doing moments ago. “Fuck… Cum with me, sweetheart. You’ve been so perfect.” He panted out.

I felt myself reach my peak, euphoria wracking me as I clenched my pussy around him, feeling him bury his cock fully inside me, unmoving as he filled me with a large load of cum, staying inside me to not let any leak out.

He looked down at me and smirked. “Don’t think we’re done just yet, dear.”

——

part 2 maybe… 👀👀

[gayandfairycore]

[Sacrifice] Simon kalivoda x reader

A/n: hi!!! This is my first fic in like four months oh my god! I’m a terrible perfectionist when I wrote so I tend to start wips and never finish them! But I just recently watched fear street for Halloween and fell head over heels for Simon so I decided for my first fic in awhile to be of him! My man deserved better 😭🫶🏻 (this is my first lr second time writing angst? I believe! So apologies of it sucks lol!) I also have to update my master list I don’t write for half the people on there anymore! Also bold and small text means it’s a flashback! And italics mean it’s kinda in simons pov! This is my first fic of Simon so he may be a bit ooc! This is also not proofread

Summary: coming along with the group to save Sam, unspoken feelings arise as it becomes apparent it may be your final night alive. Tho you are determined to not let any of your friends die if you have anything to say about it. Y/n a brash girl decides to fight for love, and her friends lives. Even if it kills her.

Warning: angst, major character death, decapitation, brutal bread slicer, murder, bashing in someone’s skull, OD-ing, drowning, (probably more)

Saving Sam had been the right thing to do you knew this, you voted on not leaving her for dead in the hallway but it didn’t stop the fear of knowing you could be going to your death in a fucking grocery store.

You weren’t even sure how you got mixed up in this, oh wait. No you do remember, you were hanging out with Simon and Kate whilst they babysat doing nothing but talking about stupid shit, with Simon and watching jaws, and sitting in between his legs.

Everything had been fine Until deena had called Kate telling her that sams boyfriend had broken into her house for some dumb prank wearing a skull mask.

No one had expected the same dude in a skull mask to be in the house Kate babysat in, Rummaging through laundry? It was safe to say y’all were freaked.

Honestly none of you were prepared to fight century old murderers you all were along for this ride, but there was no way you’d be hopping off this ride. Not when your friends lives had been in the line, Fuck that.

So here you were standing in a grocery store in bad smelling lost and found clothes, watching as Simon told Sam exactly how to od.

Safe to say you didn’t think you’d watch Simon, your simon, your best friend and crush since diapers teach your other friend how to od on a Friday night. But there’s a first time for everything.

The epi-pens had been bunched in your hands as you listened to simon tell the group when each pile was to be taken.

“You need to take these in order. Now pile one takes the edge off. You’re gonna feel kinda like you’re being fucked by a unicorn!” Simon spurs off his hands gesturing wildly as he smiles at Sam and Deena through his eyelashes

“Pile two is gonna bring your core temp way down, you may feel slightly sick?” He shrugs, a deep serious rasp is in his usually carefree voice.

“Now you need to take a five minute interval between pile two. And pile three. That’s really important, okay?” A deathly serious look takes over his eyes as he stares at Deena and Sam

“Pile three brings you down and out, so you gotta take that “take five” or it’s all gonna go to shit!” Simon instructs his hands gesturing towards the pile rings glistening.

“How many of these do we have?”kate questions gesturing towards you carrying the epi-pens

“Y/n darling pass me the pens” Simon speaks softly, turning towards you, with a toothy grin; before taking them from your grasp lightly

And stating, “Tons like a thousand!”

“Wait? Epi-pens?” Deena asks her eyebrows screwn in confusion

“Epinephrine? Also known as adrenaline. This is what brings her back.” You pipe up determined smile on your face, a proud glint glistens in Simons brown eyes.

“This is Jesus!” He adds shaking the pile of epi-pens.

It was only when you were Smearing sams blood on yourself did you truly feel the fear set in; fear, determination, and anger was all that flowed through you. As you all took different corners in the grocery store a feeling of grief overtaking your heart. As you took the front entrance near The fruit and veg aisle.

Even tho no one had died yet, your old selves would surely have to die if you wanted to survive this. It wasn’t fair, why did you have to lose yourselves,

What did you and your friends ever do to be here today, in this grocery store leading killers away from your other close friend who was meant to be fucking murdered. It wasn’t fair, on anyone.

Century old killers had come to strike again and hurt innocent people, like Simon. He was the sole provider for his whole family, sure he’s a bit of a junkie but it doesn’t mean he should die.

It didn’t mean Kate should die, or josh, or deena, or Sam. No one deserved this not the victims who came before you, or the ones that would come after if you failed. You felt filled with determined to end this. Or die trying.

The fluorescent lights seared a deep blue through the deserted store. Your heavy breathing could be heard as ruby lanes singing surrounded your corner of the grocery store your feet planted on the floor in a crouch of the fruit and veg aisle the cool spray of the water that kept the lettuce wet could be felt on your skin it was oddly refreshing, you’d die wet, and with veggies. Tasteful.

Your forehead felt damp with a mixture is sweat and dew, as ruby’s singing growing louder and louder, your hand gripped your mouth with the strength of whitening knuckles to silence your breathing. As ruby crept closer and closer. Until the singing stopped?

Just as you let out a sigh of relief, the brunette girl had pulled you from your crouched position by your hair, springing up she swing her razor towards your face, knicking your cheek as you felt the sticky red substance leak from your newly acquired cut.

“You bitch!” You exclaimed the pads of your fingers stained a bright red, anger blazed in your eyes, as your fingers tangled in her up do.

Pulling her hair back with enough force to rip a chunk out of her head, the pale girl begin to kick and scratch at you, her razor blade discarded with the shock of her hair being pulled.

Her heels stepping on your converse clad feet, before she whirled her fist back, the sound of her fist colliding with your nose and cheek, her punch was enough to stun you as the bright red blood trickled from your nose, towards your lip, you could taste blood. Bringing your toungue up towards the top of your lips you licked the excess blood leaking from your nose. Breathing heavy your hair messy, and matted.

You Spat the excess blood from the punch into the linoleum flooring you begin to back up, slightly stumbling over your shoes.

In that time ruby had grabbed her razor and started singing, walking slowly towards your retreating figure, the cool leg of a ladder had pressed against your back. Not taking your eyes off of the girl you slipped through the middle in attempt to get away from her.

“Cmon ruby Don’t you know it’s bad luck to walk under a ladder!” You nervously chuckled the brunette just smiled at you. As your eyes searched frantically for anything to help you

a tool box had laid discarded by the maintenance ladder. The yellow rubber of the handle of a hammer caught your eye, like a angled beacon of hope.

“Alright bitch, let’s level the playing field.” You whispered your face hardened with anger as you crouched down for it, your hand almost reaching it.

before you felt your leg being pulled out from under you, as your body hit the linoleum floor with a SMACK! Groaning you turned over to face ruby, something unknown glinted in your e/c eyes. Pity? Anger? Or was it Sexual tension?

“Damn ruby” you smiled “take me to dinner first!” You wheezed out your body had hit the ground with enough force to make you see stars.

As the brunette psychopath smiled at you she brought her razor blade down towards you, whisky you wriggled underneath her weight, the sledge hammer sitting so close but yet so far away from you. Your finger tips only just scraped it, whilst Rubys razor cutt deeply at your arm, and then your stomach, a scream had left your throat as the white hot pain of being stabbed seared within your flesh. The girl had turned her razor blade whilst it had still been in your stomach. Tears leaked from your eyes, as you inhaled sharply stretching just fat enough to grip it by your side.

Your vision dotting with black spots as you closed your eyes and focused on what you could control, you tried to suppress the shock your body was going into by remembering Simon. And where you were and the pain you felt.

Feeling the pain meant you were still alive, focusing on what was happening meant you’d be alive to save Simon.

You refused to die here, in the fruit and veg aisle with a psychopath topping you, and stabbing you repeatedly. You knew what you had to do you had to breathe, as a million thoughts pounded through your skull.

Time it just right y/n-the side of her head -I have to save my friends-I have to save Simon-breathe y/n-I think I’m dying-I’m losing too much blood-fuck being stabbed hurts-

Rubys had tilted her head down, savouring this moment. it was the right time. Whirling the hammer as hard as you could into her skull blood spraying when the force of the hammer collided with her skin as it split the first few layers smashing her skull in the process,the deafening crack of rubys skull echoed throughout the store.

You didn’t even remember the war cry that left your lips as you smashed her. her black blood spluttered against your cheek as the pale girl tumbled off of you.

“Good riddance bitch.” You exclaimed, spitting the blood that got in your mouth on her dead corpse.

your hair messy and tangled,and bruises were sure to start forming on your body, as red pools of blood had stained your shirt, your body aching in protest with your movements adrenaline swirling through you. As you wondered your way further down the store.

Your bloody hammer in your hand, you were in desperate need on a fucking Band-Aid.

Kate’s screams weee the next to quieter the atmosphere of the store with fear, but you couldn’t worry about Kate. You needed pain killers.

Simon heard your screams, the blonde haired boy had known it was you immediately, stifling his sobs he held hope that you would survive.

Until he heard the crack! And then deathly silence. His ears rang with anxiety “oh no, no, no! She can’t be dead, she can’t be.” he found himself thinking at the insinuation of your potential death. Tears welled in his blue eyes as thick spit began to moisten his throat with his stifled sobs

He didn’t care about the chaos around him only you. Kate’s screams had been the next to fill the grocery store. The silence after hers had felt less forgiving.

the sticky substance had cling to you seemingly everywhere, your white band shirt had been sliced and covered in bright red pools of blood. Majority yours.

the sight of your disheveled appearance in a reflection of a fridge at the bottom of the aisle had you double checking it was you, blood covered seemingly every inch of you your adrenaline levels high, despite your desheveled appearance and your wounds you didn’t feel it.

You couldn’t you were running on adrenaline, and your only weapon a god damn hammer.

But you didn’t have much choice you decided, taking a shaky breath and moving further into the store, deena and sams discarded pill bowl was the next thing you saw.

Kates screams went quiet, and your shaky breathing filled your ears as your frantically beating heart slammed against your rib cage. As you crept towards where Kate was stationed.

Your hearing seemingly deafened, when you saw Kate’s carnaged head sheathed through in the bread slicer. A shaky “oh…my…god” left your lips as the souring ting of her blood stained your throat.

And you thought being stabbed was bad.

Every inhale stung with the bitter taste of blood that filled the air, it tasted bitter and stale, as the sound of running could be heard behind you. When both josh and Simon had piled out of two aisles not long after you. Them Too witnessing the carnage body of their friend.

The sight of Kate’s mangled body had stifled the boys “I think I’m gonna puke” Simon whispered, “me too.” You chuckled uncomfortably, simon could’ve sworn he had never turned his head so fast he almost had whiplash

When he saw you it was like everything melted away as Simon saw you, alive and breathing. Simon let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Oh fuck- y/n!” Simon exclaimed shakily, when he realised it was infact you, Simons heavy breathing filled your ears as he pulled you into a desperate hug, his pale hands clutching your head and lower back, as you wrapped yours around his back and shoulders Holding on for dear life.

Both of you had been shaking. “Oh my god y/n! Are you okay?!? Whose blood is that?” Simon rambled out, when he pulled back from the embrace.

“It’s mostly mine, but don’t worry I got a few good hits on her too.”

“Mostly yours?!?” He exclaimed giving you a once over “oh my god” he was so excited to see you, he didn’t even assume that you could be hurt. His fearful brown eyes turned to look at you it was enough to break your heart.

As you brought him into another embrace, inhaling sharply, when you realised

Your sledgehammer had been discarded next to you during your reunion, and the sight of a rapidly approaching Tommy slater was gonna put a damper on things, it was apparent time was of the essence.

So you did the only thing you could do. You pushed Simon out of the way with all of your might, watching the blonde boy slide away from you, his horrified expression sending a sharp stab to your heart.

Or that might’ve been Tommy’s axe that was planted in your shoulder, yours ears rushed with blood, your heart beating frantically in your chest, your friends had called out your name as your knees hit the linoleum with bruising force.

A delayed scream ripped from you, as Tommy’s axe sucured itself in your shoulder, you called out to your friends, your head staring up at Tommy’s bagged head anger apparent in your eyes as you brought yourself to your feet calling to your friends.

“GO RUN!” Before pain stakenly slowly pulling his axe from you left hand shoulder flipping it over in your right hand you looked Tommy right in his bagged face where his eyes should be and whispered a

“Fuck you.” Before swinging his own axe into his neck successfully decapitating him, his body cluttered to the floor as you stared at his flannel clad headless body before turning towards the way simon went.

Simons choked sobs had been enough to make you start crying more then you already were, as the blonde boy had began muttering to himself “holy shit, holy shit, holy shit” as he was sitting with his knees to his chest in an aisle fully believing he had just sealed the death of the girl he had loved.

“Si?” You spoke from the top of the aisle, the fluorescent lights made you look stunning, the blue and pink of the lights framed you as if you were an Angel.

“Y/n?!?” Simon called out his tearful eyes glistened in the lights, Simon was just happy to see you made it out from the clutches of Tommy, he didn’t care you were covered head to toe in blood, h/c knotted, and bleeding profusely. He still thought you looked beautiful leaning your bleeding body on the axe that could’ve killed you.

He pulled himself to his feet, running over to you, and pulling you into his arms, before sliding down to the floor, your bloody body being moved gently sideways in his lap.

“You-you saved me?” And “oh god why would you do that?!?” He whispered softly as he held your cheeks with such gentleness as he rocked you both, it felt safe being in simons grip.

Sitting in his lap had felt like everything would be okay. Like you finally didn’t need to fight anymore. Like he was going to fight for you. Simons other hand had been frantically putting pressure on your shoulder wound.

You were losing too much blood, your head felt woozy, and your eyelids had felt heavier then they ever were, your breathing had begun to shallow. Simon prayed that deena had finally killed Sam and this was all over.

And luckily for him one of those were true, Deena had succeeded in killing Sam, and bringing her back. And an ambulance and police cars had been dispatched.

With every rock of your body simon had held you with increasing tightness it was like he was forcefully holding ro this earth, for just a minute more.

He felt as if his prayers went unanswered when you gripped his pale hand he held to your face and whispered

“simon…si-“

“No! no, don’t speak save your strength” simon whispered gripping your blood covered hand.

“Simon-” Your grip, tightened.

“-im d-dying, I want you to have this.”

Simon had felt like he had just been stabbed you couldn’t be dying! How could you just accept that you were dying?

Wheezing as you gripped the cool silver of your locket, tearing it from your chest, your chest rattling with each breath.

“Si I want you, t-to have it.”

your eyes drooped before lazily staring up at him through your eyelashes.

Letting go of his hand on your cheek you Brough your hand to his cheek before smiling up at him your teeth covered in blood, your body groaning in protest as you begin to move your head forward to place a lazy kiss on his lips.

Slumping back slowly to your previous position in his arms blood began to trickle from your mouth as you choked out a

“Oh si- p-please don’t cry…”

He didn’t even realise he had been crying.

As Your hand shakily held his cheek throughout your love confession placing a bloody hand cheek on his pale skin, you attempted to smile a bloody smile.

“Remember…I’ll always…be… with you-“

“I love you”

Before your grip on his cheek loosened, falling to the floor limply, before…nothing? The grocery store grew silent, It was silence for the last time that night. There was no sound of your breathing, or his friends screams, or the sound of splashing water or the sound of shoes running on linoleum, only his own choked sobs.

“Y/n? Y/n please answer me” He cried wiping his cheeks of his tears your blood staining his hands as you lightly smacks your face.

“Cmon y/n” smack! “wake up!” Smack!

“Please y/n…” simon muttered in defeat, his sobs loud enough to alert his friends what had happened.

“Please don’t leave me” he cried his grip tightly holding your cooling cheeks your head lulling to the side limply with any movement.

You had looked so peaceful in his arms, your eyes closed, a ghost of a smile on your face, it was apparent you had no regrets.

You were prepared to die for your friends, and die you did, you were brave in life, and braver in death.

Though it didn’t stop simons distraught thoughts to cloud his judgement, he was looking for someone to blame, was it Sams fault? She disturbed the witch, was it deenas? For asking you all to save Sam sacrificing yourselves in the process? Was it’s Kate’s? For being so sure that this plan would work? was it Josh’s? For telling us about Sarah fier, or was it his own. For bringing you here and not turning you away? Telling you to run for the hills and never look back? Or was it your fault? For pushing him out of the way. Simon knew it was wrong but be blamed every single person there.

None so much as he blamed himself, clutching the locket he gave you it reminded him of the time you told him that you’d never take it off, you’d rather have died then taken off the locket.

The chilly night air of the park had bitten your skin as you sat on an old park bench, wrapping your arms around your shoulders and attempting to rub out the goose bumps that had begun to form

Checking your watch every two minutes “god I swear! If simons left me out here in the cold I’ll kill him.”

You spoke staring up into the stars angrily, kicking your foot off of the park bench and jumping down you decided to start your walk home, in the cold, dark night.

In shady side, alone. Yep you were definitely gonna kill him. You had made your way half way down the path near the cover of trees before you heard hurried footsteps and heavy breathing.

As they wheezed out an exhausted “y/n!” Before yelling again a little louder, “y/n!” You knew it was Simon but you were still a little mad at him for making you wait thirty minutes in the cold alone at night so you decided to you with him.

“HELP SIMON!” You yelled out mustering hopefully enough faux fear to fool Simon that you were actually in trouble before you let out another blood curdling scream.

“Oh god y/n?!?” Simon called out running in your general direction, stifling a chuckle as you hid yourself behind a tree, laughing at simons scared expressions.

You actually started to feel a bit bad when he called out for the 3rd time in a row voice wavering as he did so, so you knew it was time to throw in the towel and come clean.

Jumping out at simons turned figure shit eating grin on your face at the scream he let out “holy shit! You should’ve seen your face!”

“Oh haha, very funny y/n! I see how it is” Simon sulked sitting down on the dew covered grass breathing heavily, hands on his knees.

“Oh come on! You can’t really be upset?” You asked, planting yourself next to him on the grass, kicking his leg with your leg.

Truth be told he wasn’t upset, he was just relieved that you were okay, and just scared about what he felt when he didn’t see you at the park bench.

“Yes I’m upset! I thought something happened to you!” He exclaimed shaking his head, chuckling at something that popped into his head.

“Whatre you laughing at?”you asked, smiling wildly before placing a hand under your chin and smiling cheekily “My devilish good looks?”

Simon scoffed, “pfft- no! They are no laughing matter!” He said kicking your shoe clad foot lightly “but what I was laughing at was if you ever did get attacked? Can you imagine that? God they’d go crying back to their mamas if they ever faced you!”

“You’re a kicker!” Simon exclaimed toothy grin on his face as you let out a mock gasp “ah! I am not!”

“You so are!”

“Am not!” You pushed

Simon smiled “Are too”

“Am not!” You frowned pulling up some grass and throwing it at him

“Are too!” He replied “but I love ya anyway”

“Oh shut up! You blushed

“what did you want anyway? You called me to the park at the middle of the night and then left me for 30 minutes!”you spoke turning to look at the blonde boy

“Ah! Right, I wanted to give you this.” He replied looking suddenly bashful as he searched his pockets for something.

“I uh…think I lost it when I was looking for you?” Simon spoke scratching the back of his neck as he searched his pant pockets coming up empty handed aside from a button, a stick of gum, and a tissue.

“Simon!” You exclaimed in exasperation“what was it anyway?”

“It was uh, it was a locket!“ a blush littering simons cheeks as he grinned an embarrassed smile his tooth gap on full display.

“Awww Simon, That’s so sweet. thank you! If we ever find it I promise I’ll never take it off!”

Both you and Simon spent three hours in that park in the middle of the night searching for your locket, no flashlights, just the light of the moon.

It didn’t matter if you both caught a cold a couple of days later, both you and Simon had spent hours together searching, you didn’t find it.

If Simon was being honest majority of the time he was just looking at you, in the moonlight, your hair falling in your face, as you chuckled at how dumb this whole thing was.

“Hey y/n why don’t we just call it a night and go back to yours?maybe watch a movie if something?” The blonde boy asked slightly disheartened by your disappointed expression

“Aww okay!” You called back hands on your hips and frown on your face, as both you and Simon walked back to your house, the warmth of the pretty much empty house was already better as you both snuck back into your room turning on a vhs of some random movie you had throwing off your shoes and getting under your covers

Pulling Simon down with you, as you laid your head on his chest, at first the boy didn’t know what to do his hands stayed away from you until you looked up through your droopy eyes

“What…areee you waiting for? Put your arms round me” you slurred sleepily Simon brought his arms to rest around your midriff as he called out your name

“Y/n?”

“Mm”

“I actually didn’t lose the necklace…”

“Hmm then Why did we spend hours looking for it?” You asked your head still planted firmly on his chest, eyes closed on the verge of sleep

“I just didn’t want the night to end…”

“I didn’t want it to end ‘ither, god I love you…” you yawned out giving in to the bliss of sleep

Simon froze at your words his eyes blowing wide, he just pulled you more into him holding you close to his body.

“I love you too.” He smiled placing a kiss on top of your head “I love you too…”

The memory just made him want to cry over and over again.

Until the red and blue lights off the ambulance and cop cars arrived, his tears shone in the reflection of the lights as he stifled his sobs, his hands gripping your body tighter as the paramedics piled in.

he wouldn’t let go of your body, clinging desperately too you. His friends hands on his shoulders were the only thing that got him to let go. Even tho he physically gave you over, your weight felt like it was still there, choking him.

Joshs face has been watching Simon his hand on his shoulder concern clear in his features “simon…”

Simons red and blotchy face wet with tears glanced up at him

“she’s dead, josh.” His voice hardening anger and despair setting into his voice as he continued;

“she’s dead because of me…”

[rdng1230]

10 questions for writers

I was tagged by @racerchix21

how many works do you have on ao3? 4, I’m super new to actually publishing anything. I didn’t even start reading fic until like 2 years ago. But when I was a teen I would write out little scenes on actual paper just for fun, usually little bonus scenes or codas from whatever episode of something I liked that had aired that week.

total word count: 14k ish? But by the end of the multi chapter it’ll probably be at least 20k.

What fandoms do you write for?: unpublished stuff for MASH, OUAT (god that was so long ago), I’m sure there’s a few buffy or firefly scenes in a notebook somewhere. My first published thing was a couple months ago when the Young Royals finale came out, and now I’m writing for 911. But who knows where the hyperfixation train will lead me next!

Do you respond to comments why or why not?: YES!!! I might let it go if it’s a couple emojis or something like that but I love thanking and chatting with my readers in the comments. Particularly for my current saltommy fic, going insane with my rarepair friends sustains me 🙏.

Have you ever had a fic stolen ?: not that I’m aware. I didn’t even know people did that that seems real shitty.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? : I’ve not but I’m open to it. Particularly when it comes to smut which is a little out of my league at the moment. There are parts of me that want to hand off what I’m currently writing to the incredibly talented smut writers I know and just be like “ok have em back by the ole post orgasm cuddle” but I will be BRAVE dammit.

what’s your all time favorite ship: oh Jesus. Never ask me a favorite, unless you want to get a list as long as your arm. I’d say probably wayhaught, Nomanita, spuffy, percabeth, phryne x Jack, captain swan, RoyJamie, beejhawk, madney, grace x Judd, LoVe, Malec, everlark, and Janto.

what are your writing strengths?: I don’t feel like I even know that yet. I think I’m pretty good at banter, I’m good at sweet fluffy domestic stuff as long as I can throw an angsty wrench in the middle 😘. I’m definitely good at throwing in way too many movie references that my readers have to suffer through.

what are your writing weaknesses?: lol smut can’t be a weakness if at time of writing I have not tried yet, but I’m sure it’ll be ruuuuuusty while I get it figured out. One stupid thing I do struggle with is giving my characters my accent/dialect! I am constantly writing stuff like “y’all” or “I was Fixin’ to ___” and then having to delete it because no, that born and bred Italian American Angeleno would not fucking say that.

what was the first fandom you wrote for?: I know there had to have been earlier ones but the first I actually remember is OUAT when I definitely shoulda been paying attention to my 7th grade English teacher. First published is Young Royals though (I really had to get august out of the monarchy y’all)

No pressure tags: @ohlookitsthearkhamknight @herrmannhalsteadproduction @desert--moonchild @swiftietartt @cliophilyra

[hairstevington]

Freaky Friday (Steddie's Version) - chapter 3!

Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

Summary: Steve goes to Hawkins High as Eddie, and Eddie goes to Family Video as Steve. Neither really goes as planned. Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Link to Ao3

Word Count: 3.8K, more chapters to come

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, slow burn, canon universe (more or less) set before season 4, me adding in lore than the show didn't touch on such as Eddie/Steve interactions pre-season 4, body swap, they are idiots, ANGST, revenge (attempted), POV switching

A/N: This is becoming one of my fav fics to write! Thanks to all who are following along and supporting me on Ao3! If any of you were on the Tumblr taglist then moved to Ao3, feel free to let me know. This goes for anybody who ever wants to be removed from the taglist lol, no hard feelings!

Steve woke up to the sound of an alarm at 6am on Friday morning. He couldn’t remember why at first, and reached over to hit the snooze button. When it went off again at 6:15, he groaned and rolled over to unplug the damn thing. 

The previous night came back to him in a flash when he reached out a hand that didn’t belong to him. Oh. Right.

For a moment as he desperately clung to consciousness, he thought that the worst part of all of this might be having to wake up so early. Well, that and the crippling fear of what Eddie was going to do. 

He got out of bed and looked at himself in the mirror. Yup. I’m still Munson. He fixed Eddie’s frizzy hair to the best of his ability, and wondered how it would look if he actually used the right products on it. He put on an outfit that mildly resembled Eddie’s usual style. Steve hoped that if he followed the rules and didn’t stir up trouble, Eddie would do the same. 

He didn’t have a backpack or books or anything, but it didn’t really matter. Eddie never seemed to bring anything around school except his stupid black lunchbox. 

He laughed to himself at the thought of that big, clunky thing Eddie carried around. Steve had seen the inside contents firsthand, and he was always shocked at how cavalier Eddie was about carrying drugs around with him all day. Like, the dude just took a whole lot of weed everywhere he went, sold it right outside of school property, and nobody really questioned it.

Most of the time, anyway. As Steve walked downstairs and grabbed a protein bar on his way out the door, he thought about the one time he’d been involved in Eddie’s dealing. Steve’s Junior year, not too long before he started seeing Nancy. Eddie’s Senior year - the first one, anyway.

“Where’s Tommy?” Eddie had asked when they met up at the picnic table. “He’s usually the one that meets me here.”

“Tommy’s out sick,” Steve responded. “You’re stuck with me today.” Eddie sighed as he sat down, putting the infamous giant metal lunchbox on the table and opening it to reveal quite literally the most marijuana Steve had ever seen in one place. His eyes went wide. “Jesus Christ, man. That’s, like -”

“Whaddya want, Harrington?” Eddie asked, his smile pained but pleasant. “Pick your poison.”

“Just give me whatever Tommy usually gets,” Steve answered. Eddie nodded and dug through his contraband as Steve took out a few bills and threw them on the table. Eddie caught a glimpse of the money and smirked. Steve had expected Eddie to give him change, but it was pretty evident that would not be happening the moment they’d started this interaction. “You’re being careful, right?”

“What the hell are you on about?” Eddie asked as he handed Steve the bag. 

“I just mean, like. With selling. Couldn’t you go to jail or something?”

“Why the hell do you care?” he replied, growing agitated. “People don’t tell on me because if they did, they wouldn’t have anywhere else to buy this shit. So unless you’re going to run to the police, I think I’ll be okay.”

“Jesus, man. I’m just looking out for you,” Steve responded as he stood up. 

“Since fucking when?” Eddie retorted. “You’ve never cared before.”

“I never bought from you before,” Steve replied. Eddie’s harsh words and combative nature hardly fazed Steve. It wasn’t too far off from how Tommy talked to him, and he’d gotten used to that years ago. 

“I know what I’m doing,” Eddie insisted. “Rick and my dad have taught me well regarding the life of crime.” Steve responded without thinking - a habit that he was still trying to break. 

“Isn’t your dad, like, in prison, though?” He regretted it as soon as he’d said it. He wished he could chase the words in the air and crush them, but they were already out and into the ether. 

“We’re done here,” Eddie responded. He sounded tired and disappointed as opposed to angry. That was far worse.

So, Steve got what he needed and he left. Usually, that’s the full extent of what happens during a drug deal, but unfortunately Steve wasn’t so lucky that time. 

He was taken out of his memory when the fresh air hit his face and went into his lungs. He really, really wanted a cigarette. He climbed into his car and for a moment wished it were Eddie’s, because there certainly would have been something to smoke in there. Steve’s car, however, was kept neat and drug-free. It was part of the agreement he had with his father about paying his car insurance. If Mr. Harrington caught so much as a hint of smoke in the car he’d so nicely provided his son, Steve lost all car privileges. And if Steve didn’t have a car, he pretty much didn’t have a life. 

He had many reasons to quit smoking, and he’d finally gotten over the horrible cravings, and now here he was, fighting them yet again. 

Fuck you, Munson.

He didn’t realize how weird it would feel to pull into the Hawkins High parking lot. Only a year prior was he in this parking lot with Nancy, thinking about college essays and graduation. 

Seemed like forever ago. Steve hardly felt like the same person he was then. 

Although, at the current moment, he was literally a different person, but that’s another story. 

He sighed and headed into the school. It was still pretty early, but kids roamed the halls anyway. Steve stopped one of them - he didn’t recognize her, but she looked kind enough. 

“Hey, so uh -” Her eyes widened at him in confusion with a hint of fear. At first he assumed it must have been the height difference. “If I needed another copy of my schedule, where would I go?”

“You don’t know your schedule yet?” she asked, still hesitant. “Did your brain finally melt from all the drugs?” Steve raised his eyebrows, shocked at the way she had casually insulted him. 

“No, I just -” Steve paused. He had no other explanation for why he’d need a new schedule, so he let it go. “Do you know where I should go, or not?”

“Main office, bonehead.” She spun around and walked away, leaving Steve stunned. 

Okay, so she wasn’t so kind after all. Steve was kind of shit at reading people.

He managed to get a copy of Eddie’s schedule (the woman at the front desk seemed equally as judgmental and suspicious, so Steve lied and said it was to give to his girlfriend. She didn’t seem to believe that either), and then headed to his first class before the bell rang. So far so good, he figured. 

But then class started, and Steve remembered how much he hated school. He sat and pretended to listen to the teacher until the forty minutes were up. 

There was a quiz in math next period, but thankfully Steve actually knew what he was doing. Math was something he understood relatively well. It was easier for him than the other subjects, at least. Plus, since he’d started hanging out with Dustin, he’d gotten a lot more booksmart just through, like, osmosis or something. For example, he knew the word osmosis.

Nobody really talked to him in class, but maybe that was for the best. Steve wasn’t really much of an actor, and he didn’t know Eddie well enough to accurately impersonate him. Plus, when people did interact with him, they were usually just calling him a freak or whatever, even though Steve wasn’t doing anything. People shit on Eddie just for existing.

The day went by swiftly and with relatively little issue - that was, until lunch. 

At least Steve knew Eddie enough to remember where he sat - the Hellfire table, with the other freaks. Eddie was walking on tables and making a scene like twice a week, talking about the same shit over and over to his little sheep who always listened intently to his ramblings. 

Steve always wondered why the people at the table seemed to encourage his behavior. Mostly they ignored it, but there were always a few who seemed impressed. The young kids. 

Steve couldn’t believe Dustin had become one of the sheep. 

He loved Dustin, obviously. He’d do anything for Dustin, and yet - Dustin was in a new phase of his life. High school. Damn. Those were prime identity years for Steve. He wasn’t sure how much Dustin would change, or which clique he’d be adopted into. When he heard that Hellfire had adopted him after Day 1, Steve was kind of disappointed, just because he never saw the appeal of that club or the people in it. Especially Eddie. 

And now, Eddie was leaving his own mark on Dustin, and Steve couldn’t do anything about it but watch from afar. 

Until now, he guessed. 

Steve went to the Hellfire table and sat down at the head of it - that’s where Eddie always sat. Various people were gathered around already, most of whom he didn’t recognize. Mike was there, but they didn’t really look at each other. He still didn’t like Steve that much, but he was a kid - Steve didn’t take it too personally. Dustin joined them a few minutes later, actively avoiding eye contact as well. That was far more personal, and Steve wasn’t gonna stand by and let it happen. 

“Dustin, you doing alright, man?” he asked. Dustin looked over at Steve (Eddie) and nodded.

“Yeah,” he responded. He seemed…embarrassed? “I’m sorry for yelling at you guys yesterday.”

Oh. So Dustin wasn’t angry at him anymore, he was angry at himself. Does he know Eddie and I went back to the plant yet??

“It’s all good, I get it. I’m sorry, too.”

“For what?” Dustin asked, confused. 

“For, uh - overstepping, I guess,” Steve answered. 

“Munson, did you just apologize for something?” another person at the table asked. Steve turned to see someone he thought he knew, but couldn't place his name. “This is a first.”

Shit. Wait, does Eddie really never apologize? Figures -

“He’s always had a soft spot for Henderson,” another student added. 

“You weren’t overstepping, Eddie,” Dustin continued, ignoring the comments from the others. “I just wanted -”

“We don’t have to harp on it,” Steve interrupted. Hey, at least I’m crushing the thing Eddie does where he never lets people finish a thought. “Let’s just forget it.”

“Thanks,” Dustin said. “And it seems like you survived the night despite having to be civil with Steve for ten minutes.” Yeah, ten minutes. If only.

“I wasn’t sure for a minute there, but yeah. We made it through.”

Steve kept to himself the rest of lunch, occasionally chatting with Dustin or Gareth - that was the one dude’s name. Apparently, there was band practice on Saturday. Steve had no idea Corroded Coffin was still together. 

He thought he was doing alright, all things considered. He almost believed he’d make it through the whole day undetected. 

How foolish of him. 

___________________________________

Dustin was first clued in that something was wrong when he heard that Eddie had showed up in a car other than his infamous van. Since Dustin was always one to ride the curiosity voyage, he’d gone out to the parking lot between periods to see for himself. 

Eddie’s van wasn’t there. A totally different, unrecognizable car was parked in his place. That was weird in itself - Eddie always took that spot, and he didn’t have access to any other cars. Dustin shrugged and started walking back to the school, and that’s when he noticed something even weirder. 

Steve’s car. 

Dustin rationalized it as best as he could. Maybe Steve lent Robin the car, even though she didn’t have her license yet. Seemed improbable, but possible. Eddie could have stolen Steve’s car for the day. That one was more likely, but then why wasn't it in the right parking spot?

Lunch gave him even more information. 

Eddie was nice to Dustin, sure. But he wasn’t that nice. He still teased Dustin in a way that made him feel praised, somehow. Like - way to go, buddy. You’re a weirdo like me. And Gareth was right, Eddie never apologized. 

But Dustin knew someone who did. 

At lunch, Eddie didn’t seem to know anything about Dungeons and Dragons, and he was quiet. Like, way too quiet. Mike talked about Lucas joining the basketball team, and Eddie didn’t give his usual tirade about how sports teams are poisoning the school. Instead, he was supportive. He also didn’t remember that band practice was the next day, and Corroded Coffin had band practice every Saturday without fail. 

Dustin thought at first that maybe, Eddie had just been crazy high off something. Something that Dustin hadn’t seen him on before. In any case, there was definitely something he was keeping secret about the night prior with Steve. Dustin just had no idea what. 

The mystery continued to unfold right after the final bell of the day, when the stupid bullies approached Dustin yet again. He rolled his eyes at their arrival. 

“What now, you imbeciles?” Dustin asked, passively. He’d tried several ways to fight back in the past, and nothing really worked, but he knew that the best way to get a bully to lose interest is to pretend he didn’t care. 

“Look who’s all tough,” Chad grinned devilishly. “Are you waiting on your guardians to show up and save you again?” 

“What?” Dustin didn’t know how they knew about that. 

“Harrington and the Freak,” Chad answered. “They tried to give us a good scare last night.”

“They did?” Dustin asked, his heart sinking. 

“What, like you didn’t ask them to?”

“Actually, I specifically asked them not to,” Dustin sighed. Those idiots. Chad and his buddies circled around Dustin, trapping him against the wall with no escape in sight. One of them looked in the distance and rolled his eyes. 

“Speak of the devil,” he said. The group all turned towards his gaze to see Eddie strolling straight towards them, a somehow casual fury in his eyes. Eddie’s anger was usually a lot more intense and frazzled. This was more like a guy who’d had enough. A guy who’d seen some shit far worse than bullying and was now unfazed by high school drama.

Eddie approached the circle and wiggled his way in until he was face to face with Chad.

“What do you want, Munson?” he asked. 

“I told you. Leave the kid alone, or else,” he replied.

“Or else, what? Are you gonna curse me or something?” The group laughed. Everyone thought they were so smart, making the same jokes about Eddie. Angry, unhinged Eddie who Dustin had seen carefully and quietly work on campaigns on multiple occasions. He only acted crazy when he had an audience. 

“If that’s what it takes,” Eddie shrugged. “Or I could, you know, tell everyone about the time you threw up all over Stacy Williams at the New Years party.” Chad’s eyes widened. 

“How do you even know about that?” Eddie smirked, then continued. 

“Right place, right time I guess. I mean, I was at least in a better place than Stacy Williams that night -”

“Okay fine, I’ll leave him alone,” Chad said. Eddie let go of the guy and took a step back, triumphant. Chad recovered, then delivered one final, unoriginal blow. “Freak.” Spit flew out of his mouth as he said the word. Chad was the worst, and nobody liked him anyway. He walked off with his minions, pathetically defeated. 

“Sorry, Dustin. I know you didn’t want me to -”

“It’s okay. Thanks,” Dustin replied. “I think he might actually lay off now.”

“Cool,” his friend said with a smile. He turned to leave, but Dustin only let him get a step or two before calling out to him. 

Dustin had heard the story about Chad and Stacy before, and he knew who had told it to him. 

“Steve?”

“Yeah?” His friend turned back to Dustin nonchalantly, before his eyes widened. “Oh, shit.”

“I knew it. Tell me everything.”

______________________________________

Eddie slept in until noon, a luxury he usually didn’t have on Fridays. Well, he used to sleep in until noon on Fridays a lot, but then he didn’t graduate. 

This time, however, he could sleep guilt-free, knowing that Steve’s shift wasn’t until 12:30. With a full night’s rest under his belt, he felt a bit more at peace about the whole situation, somehow. 

Maybe it was because, out of the two of them, Eddie had a much better deal than Steve. 

He wondered how school was going, and if Steve had gotten a taste of his own medicine. Maybe having to experience constant bullying would make him understand how much of an asshole he’d been. One could only hope. 

Eddie climbed out of bed, chose the least offensive outfit he owned (plain black t-shirt and black jeans), put the green vest on (he far preferred his Dio one), and headed out the door. He hadn’t even looked in the mirror or anything. He avoided it on purpose. But, alas, he caught his reflection in the rearview mirror of his van as he backed out of Forest Hills, and that’s when he realized he’d left Steve’s hair a fucking mess. 

Seriously, not once had Steve’s hair ever looked like this. Eddie didn’t even know it could look like this. It was…really bad??? How much time did Steve invest in making this shit look good every day? What the hell??

Eddie started to realize why Steve had been so upset the night before about the conditioner thing. 

Even though it wasn’t his hair, technically, and any embarrassment Eddie faced today would have zero consequences, he took a minute to make it look somewhat decent. He wanted to screw Harrington over, of course, but he also wanted to see what a normal day was like for someone like Steve. 

He’d cause chaos in other ways, he promised himself. 

He pulled into Family Video, feeling relatively confident as he walked in. How hard could it be, right? It was just movies. Eddie watched a lot of movies. He’d make sure Steve kept his job - that was the deal. He didn’t want to keep up his end of the bargain, but he was scared of what Steve would do in retaliation. 

School and job must stay intact. Non-negotiable. But everything else was fair game. 

“You’re late, Harrington,” Keith said as Eddie walked in. He looked at his watch - it was 12:31.

“Barely,” he responded before regretting it. Fuck. I’m bad at this.

“Watch it,” Keith warned. Eddie quickly backed off and headed behind the counter. He wasn’t sure what else there was to do other than handle customers. He figured if Keith wanted him to do something else, he’d say something. 

Nobody came in for the first half hour. Eddie was bored. He thought about asking Keith if he could watch one of the movies, then shut that thought down before it left his lips. He wished he’d brought a book. How the hell did Harrington survive this job when it was so dull?? He wondered if having Robin around made it more bearable. She was due to show up after school around 3pm.

He felt a major reprieve when Keith asked him to put the returns back to their rightful spots on the shelves. It gave him something to do, and he was so excited to be doing something that he got it done in record-breaking time, apparently. 

“All set,” Eddie had said once he’d put the last tape on the shelf. Keith eyed him suspiciously. 

“Really?” he asked. Eddie nodded. “That was fast. Did you just put them all in random spots again?” Jesus Christ. I’m surprised Harrington hasn’t lost this job all by himself. 

“No, they’re all in the right place. You can check if you want.” Eddie knew they were all correct, because he’d been in this store so many damn times. He probably knew it better than Steve. No, he definitely knew it better than Steve. 

Keith double checked a few rows before he believed Eddie’s words. He nodded, clearly impressed. 

Then, a customer came in - someone he knew. Rick. 

“Hey, man!” Eddie greeted him without thinking about it. 

Rick, or “Reefer Rick,” was the guy that got Eddie into the whole dealing thing. He was Eddie’s supplier, and he was a good friend. Well, he was a friend anyway. 

“Hey…” Rick responded, confused at “Steve’s” enthusiasm. 

“Cheech and Chong, right?” Eddie asked, knowing that was Rick’s usual. “We just got it back so it’s actually right here.” Rick looked impressed that an employee remembered him, but Eddie knew for a fact he was a regular here, and his appearance was kind of hard to forget. 

He rang him out. He probably did it wrong on the computer, but whatever. 

“Have a good day, man,” Rick said as he left. 

A woman came in after that, looking for something to watch with her boyfriend. Eddie rambled on about a few titles, asking her about the boyfriend and what he liked, then what she liked, before providing multiple recommendations and his reasoning behind them. She chose one, rented it, and left the store. 

Damn. I’m actually really good at this shit. Eddie wondered if he’d found his calling. He deserved this job way more than Harrington. 

“Steve,” Keith called from the back room, where he’d been doing paperwork and rewinding tapes. “What’s gotten into you today?”

“What do you mean?” Eddie asked. 

“I mean,” Keith continued. “You’re staying busy instead of slacking off. You’re remembering customers, and you didn’t hit on that girl at all like you usually would. You even gave her a really good recommendation. I thought you didn’t know anything about Star Wars?” 

Seriously, how the hell has Harrington not been fired yet? Eddie also took note of Steve not knowing about Star Wars, which may have been his worst offense yet, in Eddie’s eyes. 

“Yeah, well. I’m really trying,” Eddie responded. He wasn’t, really. This job was stupid easy. But also, he was doing it, because that was the deal. 

“Keep up the good work,” Keith said. “If you do, I’ll start letting you pick your shifts.”

Eddie’s eyes widened. He loved praise. He loved being told he was doing well, it just didn’t happen much outside of Hellfire. 

“Noted. Thanks,” he replied. 

And then it hit him - Eddie had set out to ruin Steve’s life, and instead he got him a promotion. Fuck. I’m really bad at this whole revenge thing.

(next chapter)

______________________________________

@thegoatscoat @ao3screenshots @stevessluttywaist @tartarusfairy @croatoan-like-its-hot @mightbeasleep @ofherscarlettwitchways @paintballkid711 @abraca-fxckyou @allbimyself26 @jellybabiesforall @allbymyselfexceptformycactus @justaloadofgarbage-blog @alliemunsonsstuff @undreamingscatworld @thefruityfours @hobbitnarwhal @calivanus @wreckmyplans-thatsmyman @antheia @goodolefashionedloverboi @lillemilly @missmagillicuddy @steviesbicrisis @gamerdano @menamesniall @eyeslikewildflowers111 @callmesirkay@stringischeese @eds-trashmouth @mnl-enuh @redfreckledwolf @itsanarrum @soulsofstarsliveinyourveins @gregre369 @stevesbipanic @momotonescreaming @aryakanojiaa @wrenisflying @comicmadlover @lilacrobin @itch-my-b0nez @anonymousbandgirl @disastardly @Dang_Dirty_Demons @daisyellsong @val-from-lawrence

[discodeviant]

HARRINGROVE WEEK, DAY 1: Nineteen | Teen | 2k

Gift Wrapped: Two Tickets to a Baseball Game

Flavor Combos: Spring Break & Roommates 

Specific Dialogue: “Did you keep the receipt?”

I want to preface this by saying that none of my fics for this will follow a coherent timeline lol, so his 30th birthday (spoiler teehee) isn't him turning 30 in this fic's universe etc etc. Please enjoy 💖 !!

Read on AO3 @harringroveweek

“Hey.”

It was a week before spring break. Billy lay on his side of the room, on his bed with a book on his chest, window shut tight to save him an awful allergy attack. He didn’t tell Steve that his birthday was in three weeks; that was something Steve learned by chance (or berating it out of his sister when she visited for Christmas, but the details didn’t matter). He also didn’t tell Steve that he’d been keeping close tabs on the Indiana Imps game since it was announced in October, but there was a day when he left the radio on in the shower, Steve returned a little earlier than expected, and, well…

Steve watched the expectant, if confused, eyebrow lift behind Billy’s book, and trailed over a t-shirt, to shorts, to bare feet before he found sky-grey looking at him too. “Hey,” Billy said, and suddenly the monologue all but melted out of Steve’s memory entirely. “You gonna close the door or what?”

“Oh—“ Steve stepped forward and pushed it closed with his back, still hiding his hands as his face and neck pricked with heat. “Uh, so… you’re… still going on that spring break thing, right?” It was a trip organized by the debate team, which Billy had been a member of since the new semester.

“Planning on it, yeah. Why, you gonna miss me?” He chuckled and focused back on his book, folding his legs under the covers.

Steve rolled his eyes. Flatly, he said, “Yes, because I am in such agony thinking about being away from you for a week.” Billy laughed so hard that he snorted, and Steve wished it wasn’t a lie. He wished that getting stuck with Billy Hargrove in August meant arguing so much that one of them forced the other to move out, but they’d actually gotten along. High school was over, they both ended up at Purdue because rich parents and scholarships were useful sometimes, and they were friends, much to Steve’s dismay. He’d wanted more since Halloween of senior year, but more never came.

“Shut up, man. Yes, I’m going. Why?”

“How early do you have to be up?”

“Uh… I don’t know. Seven, eight?” Finally, he looked up, laid the book on his chest, and gave Steve his full attention. “I will do my best to let you have your beauty sleep. Is that all?” Steve shook his head; Billy frowned. “Then what?” he asked, and the answer came as two slips of paper in Steve’s hand that he couldn’t read. “What’s that?”

“… Happy birthday?”

Billy’s shoulders shrunk into the pillows. “It’s not my birthday.”

Steve shrugged. “Close enough. Do you wanna go to the game or not, because I can just—“

“What—what game?” Billy asked, and he was up on his feet in an instant, grabbing the paper from Steve’s hand to see that they were two tickets for the Imps game on the twelfth. “What the fuck, Harrington? Where’d you—did you just get these now?”

“Maybe.”

“Are you for real? How did you even—… how much were they?”

“Why’s that matter?”

“I’ll pay you back!”

“No, you’re not paying me back, dumbass. It’s your birthday.”

“It’s not my birthday.”

“Early gift.”

“Did you keep the receipt?”

“No, I didn’t keep the receipt! What’s the matter with you?”

“Steve—“

“Billy.”

Both of their hands were in a stale mate, each holding the tickets while one trembled a little more than the other. Steve looked down into Billy’s eyes, unable to decipher sadness from disbelief. “You’re serious?”

“Yes, I’m serious. Jesus. Have you never gotten a damn birthday present?”

“Not—“ Steve regretted the question as soon as Billy’s shoulders slumped down with a huff and rolling eyes. “Not, like, fuckin’ expensive ones.”

Steve let go then, letting Billy gloss over them in full. “Well… I thought it’d be fun. I don’t know.”

“Shit, these seats are insane too.”

“I’d hope so,” he said, and Billy looked up for a moment before wrapping him in a hug that he’d have leaned into forever if it wasn’t so awkward when it was over.

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem, man.”

Game night came and went in a flash, mostly because Steve stopped following baseball in middle school, and because his focus was on Billy the whole time. Billy, who stared blank-faced on the way home; who didn’t say a word when the game was over; who stiffened and stuttered and reddened like a beet when the stadium focused the camera on the girl next to him. Straight Barbie-blonde hair, shimmering lip gloss, the focus of the Imps’ kiss cam before it panned over to Billy laughing smugly at the attention.

Steve didn’t know what came over him, whether it was jealousy or the prodding worry that it was now or never, but the impulsion that used to get him in so much trouble won yet again. He pulled Billy towards himself by the sleeve, put a hand on the back of California curls, and yanked him in for a kiss—because if Billy Hargrove was going to kiss anybody at a damn Imps game, it wasn’t gonna be some hussy he’d never seen in his life. It wasn’t gonna be a stranger.

What got Steve more than the wild screaming around them at the stadium, more than the announcer laughing along, more than his own courage then, was that Billy kissed him back. It was short and hard, full of adrenaline and beer and overpriced hot dogs and grape soda, but he did. Steve melted at the other tongue suddenly in his mouth like it was testing the waters before retreating again. Like it wasn’t sure, like Steve would bite it off and swallow it with Billy’s pride.

It was nearing one in the morning when they made it back to their dorm, and Steve kicked his shoes off before Billy asked, “Why—why’d you do that?”

“Hm? Do what?” Oblivious as always, Steve bent down to straighten his shoes against the wall the way Billy liked to keep them. “Better?”

“No, I—the—the camera, I mean, you didn’t—don’t—“ Billy inhaled, sharp and hard through his nose, then recollected himself. “That was just for the camera, right?”

Steve froze and looked back with panic. “Right,” he said, too fast, too loud. “Yeah, it—yeah.” Too humored.

“Mm.”

And he dressed down some more, changing his sweater out for a tank top, jeans for shorts, new socks to sleep in because he was a freak, supposedly. Billy, though, he stayed by the door, stiff as a board, hands in his pockets and staring at the floor. Steve recognized the way he chewed his lip the same way he’d chew on the butt of a cigarette. Waiting, grinding, thinking.

Steve then said, “Kind of,” and Billy looked up. “I mean, I don’t know.”

“I—Steve…”

“Should I not have?”

“No, it’s—“ Billy whispered now. “Not that.”

Steve’s heart was in his throat, trying to tumble out and hide at the same time because it wanted Billy just as much as Steve did, and he might have held his breath a little too long. “Then what?”

Billy turned around to put his stuff down, pieces of memorabilia that Steve also insisted on buying for him. “Nothing, never mind.” But Steve was right back next to him, tugging the sleeve of the jacket he wore because Indiana spring was still too cold at night. Billy faced him, still not making eye contact. Steve wished he would, but the momentary focus was enough. He didn’t want Billy to run away—not now, not ever, and certainly not because he backed out too soon. “Steve—“

“It was for me, okay?” he said at last. Soft, gentle, lacking most of the confidence that he had just a few hours before. Now what remained was the memory that Billy didn’t jerk away. Billy didn’t get angry or yell or hit him or spit the taste of his mouth back out onto his shoe. He may have in high school if Steve pulled the same stunt. But not then, not two weeks before his nineteenth birthday, not when he’d been fine, when he’d been away. Not when Steve made him feel safe. “It was for me.”

Steve crowded him between the door and the desk without realizing how close he’d gotten. Both hands rested on Billy’s lapels, fiddled with the buttons down his chest. He continued: “Look, man, I just—I’ve wanted to do that for a really long time.” He whispered a burning breath between their noses, black cherry slushy still on his tongue. “I just—you know, the camera, and it was on you and that chick, and—“

“Didn’t take you for the jealous type, Harrington,” Billy said, a weak smile on his lips that made Steve smile wider.

“Well, maybe I am the jealous type, Hargrove.” They both laughed small huffs that brought them even closer, and Billy met Steve’s eyes. There went his guard in pieces on the floor, the last shell of King Steve having all but disintegrated. “Can I do it right this time?” His finger dragged along Billy’s jaw, down to his chin, a thumb just a breath away from an anticipating lip. He’d have missed Billy’s nod if he blinked, but his eyes were wide open until they closed again when he leaned in.

Their kiss this time was gradual and careful, treading a sheet of ice that may have been thicker than he thought it could be. Billy slacked underneath him, a hand finding the hem of his shirt, barely touching his side before it pressed a little harder. Now he could savor Billy for everything he was. Strong and divine but soft in places he couldn’t control—his hands, his lips, his heart that Steve felt against his own and knew he’d never stop craving.

His toes pressed against Billy’s boots, unafraid of being stepped on because Billy was careful too. Though pliant, he remained strong in the grip on the back of Steve’s shirt. They shared smoky fruit and spearmint, deep sea cologne and sandalwood. Foreheads pressed against one another after a long minute, maybe two, and Billy sighed; they were both out of breath already.

Steve ran his fingers through Billy’s hair as they fell onto each other’s shoulders and embraced against the door. “Get comfy and come lay down with me.”

Billy asked, “Do you mean lay down or lay down?” and Steve laughed, then shrugged.

“Whatever you want.”

Smiling—“Yeah, alright”—Billy brushed his nose against Steve’s again, asking for another kiss, and Steve gave him just that. Shorter this time but just as sweet, and it was so cold when he let go, but it would be warm again.

So they both got ready for bed; Billy dressed down to briefs and a t-shirt, then took the other half of Steve’s twin. They kissed once and kissed some more, deeper with every breath and rut against each other. Two handjobs later—one drawn out until Billy had to beg—and it was three o’clock. Steve massaged his head, falling asleep in the comfort of Billy’s arms and fingers drawing scribbles on his back. Billy yawned into Steve’s neck, naked against his thigh and toeing those damn socks. “You’re still weird for that.”

“Shut up, my toes get cold.”

“But your dick doesn’t?”

“Mm, not with you to warm it up,” Steve said, shifting so his weight was on Billy.

Billy laughed. “Shut up.” Kissed him again, languid and worn out from the hours of excitement.

With another scratch to Billy’s scalp, Steve said, “Come on, go to sleep. You still gotta be up early.”

He groaned. “For what.”

“Your debate trip, dickhead.”

“Fuck debate,” Billy said, pulling his arms up to hold Steve around his shoulders. “And fuck you if you think I’m going anywhere.”

“Why, would you miss me?”

“You know what, fuck you anyway.”

“Save that for tomorrow.”

“If only you’d be so lucky.”

“I think I’ve got a pretty good chance.”

“Mm…” Billy yawned. “Maybe.” Steve kissed him again, and before they fell asleep: “Thanks for taking me to the game.”

“I’m glad you had a good time.”

“Me too,” he said, wiggling under Steve’s weight until they settled more comfortably. Steve kissed his neck and shoulder and forehead and cheek, then lips one last time before laying down on his chest.

“Goodnight, Billy.”

“Night, Stevie.”

[halestrom]

😄 for leather, ✏️ for won’t say I’m in love, 🎲 for alllllllllll of themmmmm

😄 What part are you most excited to write?

baassssiclly the fic is gonna end with john fucking rodney while rodney is wearing his season 4 leather jacket and nothing else so that's gonna be fun lol.

✏️ Have you deleted any scenes or strayed from your initial plan?

I just deleted like 3k! Not because the scene wasn't good, but because its the Moment in the fic. The oh moment and i liked the one i wrote, but it wasn't the vibe i had had in my head for the last 60k i had written and it was stalling me from writing the rest of it. so i scrapped the whole thing and rewrote it and i like this one a lot better.honestly. might rewrite it again because its The Moment I've had in my head and i want it to be perfect.

🎲 Scroll wildly through your WIP doc and post a snippet from where you land when you stop!

I Won't Say I'm In Love:

“Hmm,” Radek said. “So, there is no one?” Evan shrugged. “As far as I know there isn’t. Unless you wanna know who I’m fucking.” “No, do not have the time to listen to that list again,” Radek said, shaking his head. “Hey!” Evan said, slightly offended even though it was true. “Hi!” Evan looked up as David appeared in the doorway, looking between Radek and Evan. “Oh, you weren’t saying hi?” David asked, even as he walked over and kissed Radek hello. “Well, it could double as a hello,” Evan said, tapping his stylus against his tablet. “Mostly I was just being insulted.” “I called him a slut,” Radek said, beaming at David.

Slowburn

His phone rang again and he checked it, seeing the same number. He ignored it, but after a second thought added Rodney’s name to his contact list. The phone rang again, and this time John picked it up. “We’re sorry, the number you have dialed is no longer in service. Please hang up and try again,” John said in the same voice he had once used on CO’s he didn’t like. “Bullshit,” Rodney muttered. “Look! I know I’ve been a bit of a dick lately but there’s a good reas—” John hung up

Leather+John

John pulled back from Rodney and sneezed, shaking his head to clear it only to sneeze, and keep on sneezing until he started to get frustrated. He was aware of Rodney hovering, hands fluttering in the air and holding something it took John a moment to realize was a tissue. He took it and blew his nose, shaking his head as something still tickled his nose. He finally managed to clear it and breathed in, smelling something new. “Cologne?” he asked, hearing how stuffy he sounded. Rodney took a few, hasty, steps back. “Yeah, new one,” he said. “I uh…take it that it doesn’t work for you?” John waved for Rodney to come closer and leaned in to kiss him again, only to sneeze when Rodney got closer and he backed up, shaking his head. “Ah, Jesus. What is that? Pepper spray?” he asked, rubbing both hands over his face as he tried to stop himself from sneezing again, but it was a lost cause. “Smoke Show. It’s supposed to have notes of pink peppercorn,” Rodney said, rubbing the side of his neck, looking at John before shaking his head and walking into the bathroom, the shower starting up a second later.

One More Lonely Soul

“Is this urgent?” he asked, interrupting Bates. He dropped his hand to look at his new Senior NCO and then at Ford, a kid entirely too young to be an XO in his opinion, but John was still too new to question anything, even if he had a thousand questions. Bates opened his mouth, closed it and glared. “I would think considering the past week you would find the security of this base to be quite urgent.” “I think the only thing the past week has shown us is that any preconceived notion anyone had should be kicked out the door,” John replied before he leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “Look, Sgt. None of you want me in this position, and I’m not gonna Monday morning quarterback Colonel Sumners decisions regarding chain of command, but, and no offense here Lt. Ford, but, I don’t think he is quite ready to be in Command. Right?” “No argument here,” Ford said quickly, looking over at Bates and back at John.

[come-along-pond]

"i wake up screaming from dreaming." with Kate, pretty please?? 🖤🖤🖤

warnings: foul language (lol), major spoilers for s3 of the boys.

a/n: fully aware you can't really read this one yet as well lol, it'll be like a finishing show treat. Also I am brave enough to admit that my characterisation for Billy is super off lol. Just tryna get some practice in before I work on the main fic.

Butcher’s flat is strangely quiet, Kate would have thought the silence would drive him mad, but maybe that’s the point. He offers her a cuppa and sits her down on his sofa, it feels strangely intimate for their relationship considering the other things they get up to. 

“Billy,” she isn’t sure how to approach this, how to tell him that he’s probably lost his mind and that she’ll stab him if she sees him take one more dose of Temp-V.

“Yeah?” he’s pouring the water into cups, he only had a second one for her, it took far too long than he’d care to admit to find one. Yes he could have got the cheapest, first one he saw. But he didn’t, and so now the second mug in his flat looked somewhat vintage and had a light lipstick stain on it. 

“I um…hmm,” Kate bites her tongue, unable to get the words out “The temp-V…”

Billy sighs “Fucking hell,” 

“Billy- “

“Hughie’s already got Annie up his arse, I don’t need you up mine,”

“I know, but Jesus fucking Christ Butcher you’re killing yourself,” Kate stands, turning sharply to see Billy stood over his counter, palms face down on it “It’s your body, it’s your choice I know that. But what about the people who rely on you?”

“Like who?” he scoffs.

“Ryan! You pushed him away because you thought he’d be safer but you know you’re wrong. What about Hughie? What about me?”

“And why do you care darlin’?”

“Oh, don’t be cunt Billy,” Weirdly Kate was the one getting angry, Butcher seemed beaten, like he’d already lost this argument with himself “Of course I fucking care about you! Of course I don’t want to be stood over your dead body or a gravestone!”

“Why hm? Why do you give a fuck about me?”

“You know why,” Kate sighs, and Billy looks left and sees her glassy eyes, slowly approaching her

“Maybe I wanna hear you say it,” 

“You won’t say anything back,”

“Maybe I will,”

“I don’t want you to die because I love you,” Kate looks down “Because I’m fucking in love with you and Jesus Christ in the middle of the night, I wake up screaming, from dreaming that you’re dead at my feet at guess what? Homelander isn’t there. It’s just you because you’ve done it to yourself,”

“You think you don’t deserve love,” Kate meets his eyes “But you do. I’ve seen what you deem the worst parts of yourself, fuck I’ve seen you beat a man bloody to death and inject that green shit into your veins,” she gestures to where he kept the V “And I love you, and I just want you to be alive long enough for you to understand that,”

Billy sighs, he’d asked her to explain, but he didn’t expect her to actually do it. She was right, he didn’t think he deserved her, but she was here, and it was clear she wasn’t giving up any time. He wraps his arms around Kate, pulling her to him, her body shakes as she breathes, her own arms wrapping around him.

“I love you, I do and I’m sorry,” he mutter quietly into her hair “but that’s why I can’t get that those supe cunts get near you,”.

-----&-----

taglist: @lilac-lemonade @witchofinterest​ @veetlegeuse @arrthurpendragon @sentineljedi @stanshollaand @foxesandmagic @edshopper @eddiemunscns @carmens-garden @dancingsunflowers-ocs @raith-way @ginevrastilinski @wordspin-shares @oneirataxia-girl

Send an ask/message if you wish to be added or removed!

[gagaqueenie1981]

Ok, this is my first POSTED fan fic. I have a lot more. If first person isn’t your thing, just change it on your own or pretend your name is Sarah. Lol ❤️. Next time I’ll change it to X reader. Hope you enjoy.

Warnings: 18+

Sunburn

“Did you use sunblock like I told you to?” Brian asked, sitting on the kitchen counter eating cereal, his long legs crossed.

“I thought I did, but I got a little high and forgot to put more on,” I admitted sheepishly. “I’m in pain,” I pouted.

Brian sighed and hopped off the counter. “Let me see,” he said, scratching at his adorable stubble.

“It hurts so much, baby,” I whined as I turned around.

“Come here,” he said. He lifted my shirt up and off gently.

“Jesus, Sarah!” He exclaimed. “You are so red!”

“I know! I’m sorry!” I cried.

He ran his long, gentle finger across my neck and shoulders. He placed a few soft kisses on my hot, stinging skin.

“You don’t have to apologize to me,” he said. “Oh, baby, I feel so bad for you. Where is the aloe lotion?”

He ran out of the kitchen, and I could hear him rifling around in the bathroom.

“Come in here, and lie on the bed,” he called from the bedroom. “And take off your bra.”

“Oooh, kinky,” I teased as I walked into the bedroom.

“Love, this is not supposed to be sexy time. This is serious first aid time.”

“Oh, got it,” I replied, smacking him on his butt before he positioned himself on the bed.

Brian grinned and said, “However, it looks as though you will need to be on top for a bit until this heals.”

“Fine with me,” I said, climbing up onto his lap and straddling him on the bed.

“I didn’t mean now!” Brian laughed, his hands squeezing my ass.

Shhhh,” I said, pressing my finger on his lips. “Take my bra off, Brian.”

He started to protest, but I rolled my hips ever so slightly.

“Baby……,” he whispered, frowning as he fumbled to get the cap off the lotion, but eventually his hands crept toward my back and he unclasped my bra. I let it slide down my chest. I moved closer so that my nipples brushed against his shirt. He cleared his throat.

“Ok,” he said, biting his lower lip. “I guess we are doing it like this. Since you are not cooperating”

“I’m cooperating!” I protested. “You just haven’t kissed me properly yet.”

Brian smiled and chuckled. “Okay then, love.” He kissed me deeply for a while and then squirted some gel on to his hands and started softly rubbing my tender sunburned back and shoulders.

“Ow, ow,” I winced, pulling Brian into a hug and burying my head into his chest.

“Sorry, darling,” he said. “I’m trying to be gentle. Just hold on to me.”

After the initial sting, my skin felt relieved and cool.

“Oh, Bri, it feels so much better,” I said, kissing him all over his face and neck. “You are so good to me.”

Brian chuckled. “If this is what I have to do to make you happy and kiss me, it’s a pretty small task,” he said, returning my kisses.

I looked down. I was still in my straddle position when I felt his bulge seemingly growing by the second.

“Oh, baby, you’re getting hard,” I observed, kissing his neck and unbuttoning his shirt.

“Well, you’re straddling me, topless, kissing me, taking off my shirt, and flirting. What do you expect?” He asked incredulously.

“I expect that you would be sucking on my nipples already,” I said, smirking.

“Oh is that all you want? I’ll happily oblige.” He cupped my breast in his hands and leaned forward to suckle me while I wrapped my arms around his neck, my head on top of his. “Take your pants off,” he said thickly as he moved on to my other nipple.

I shimmied out of my pants and underwear as best I could from this position. Brian looked down.

“Christ,” he muttered. My slick wetness was rubbing all over his striped trousers.

“Sorry,” I giggled.

“Fuck,” he said. “Don’t ever apologize for that.” He climbed out from underneath me to take off his shirt and pants. I helped by swiftly pulling his briefs off and pushing him back on the bed.

“In a hurry are we?” He asked, as I climbed back on top of him.

“I missed you,” I said, wrapping my arms around him.

“I begged you not to go,” he replied, thumbing my nipples and reaching down to finger me.

I moaned and moved with his fingers. He felt amazing. “I know. I should have stayed,” I said, gently reaching down to align his perfect cock with my opening. He reached down to help.

“I should have gone with you. First to put more sunscreen on you, second to fuck you in a tent.” His breathing began to get labored.

“You wouldn’t have liked it, Bri. You know how your back gets stiff after gigs. It’s not comfy.”

“Yeah, but still. Too bad I had to work. Mmmmm, yes, right there love,” he said, closing his eyes as we finally locked together and he filled me to the hilt.

“Kiss me while you fuck me, Brian,” I moaned. “And please rub my clit like you always do.”

“Oh fuck yes.” He gripped my hips, thrusting and encouraging me to lightly bounce on him. “I will kiss you and touch you forever. I love you so much, Sarah.” He reached down to rub circles into my wet clit, pressing down with his thumb.

Wet, sloppy, precious kisses followed as we made love. Later, he held me while I lay on my side and pressed a cold wash cloth against my sunburn. My shy, curly-haired baby Brian May was all mine and I was all his, just as the universe intended.

I would ask for nothing more ever again.

[astrologista]

i hate to say it but all bruce does these days is whineeeee. which i feel like is antithetical to how i understand him as a character. like yes, he broods and he does obsess, but he doesn’t really whine unless some of the time if only alfred is there to witness it lol.

like, fr. i haven’t really been keeping up with comics, so maybe i’m off base with some of this, but here’s what it looks like from the outside

bruce’s relationship with dick is under-served or just basically ignored, when they do bring it out, it’s only for very quick angst fuel then right back to business like they don’t know each other at all

bruce accepting jason back into the family was rushed and handled by sub-par writing which didn’t support the emotional gravitas that said reunification should have involved. i’ve seen a lot of fics that did it way better than what they did. it feels shoe-horned. also, why is bruce tacitly rubber-stamping jason as batman-affiliated when he’s still using GUNS? like WHAT. how does that make any sense. do bruce’s emotional boundaries matter at all? does everything have to be jason’s way or the highway? bruce is notoriously stubborn. much as he loves jason, i can’t see him letting that slide IF this were to work. DON’T SKIP OVER THE IMPORTANT CHARACTER WORK. like, set up the foundations and then build on top of that. don’t just jump to the payoff and try to walk things back as you go! it’s lazy and shows where editorial mandate stymied good storytelling. and there are way more issues with it that i have than just that. of course i love to see bruce and jason caring about each other and getting along as much as the next fan but the way they chose to go about it raises SO many questions

tim who?

no tim has been flanderized so fucking bad. actually he’s been transformed more into the fandom-lite version of himself, which i do kind of hate. oh yeah, he’s with bernard now. WHOOP TEE DOO! the fans have been clamoring for that pairing for years i’m sure.

there have been an assortment of good-to-middling damian comics since the 2010s as at least some writers seem vaguely interested in that dynamic with bruce but for every 2 mildly tolerable issues they drop one that’s got fucking jack shit bonkers writing in it and relies on only the most tired of “U LIED TO ME” tropes. nothing will compare to the tomasi 2011 batman and robin run and that was like the single decent output of the new 52 and the best thing dc has released in years. i’m right

among the newer characters they’ve released, it’s sad that they never really seem to... stick? PLEASE INVEST IN SOMEONE. more duke! more harper! more LITERALLY ANYONE!

bring the fun back to comics. where’s the storytelling. decide whether you want to create a new shitty joker and/or riddler iteration, or a new army of jokers and/or riddlers and/or scarecrows. or just create a new poo poo shitty villain of the week who will age like milk. why not have one based on social media. that’s a new one that i’m sure no one will ever see coming.

STOP SOFT REBOOTING EVERY ISSUE. we know, you’re going to start the next new groundbreaking run, take everything back to basics so nobody is confused, bring on the new readers with this cool new jumping on point, simple just batman alfred and the joker with juuuust enough of a new “modern” twist to it to differentiate it from the thousands of other times you did this. great job dc. doing great. when you’re done with that let’s do another mass cataclysm event across 20 books. im sure people will want to collect all those variant covers.

and i love how there are SO many fics that do it so, so, so much better. jesus fuck. and fic writers aren’t even being PAID! we’re not even being PAID!!

so, yeah, i’m kind of done with comics for time being. i’ve been dabbling in anime and games again, getting back to roots, but so far, it’s mainly been independent web content free of advertisers, executives, editorial and other bullshit that’s caught my fancy lately. the artistic freedom is really needed to tell a good story now. the multiverse / soft reboot / re-configure the universe every year bullshit that marvel popularized has infiltrated, like, everything, as well as the netflix model of “let’s cancel immediately after season 1”. there is no buildup. there is no excitement. there is no story. mba’s and boardrooms do not understand “story”. they don’t know what creativity is. they know what numbers, profits, engagement look like, and they are optimizing for that curve. i do not know why they are shocked when that curve sinks lower and lower every year. i just simply do not understand.

im so mad. kevin conroy’s dead and we’ll never get something like b:tas ever again. media has been my life since i was a baby. so i have to find some kind of stories to try to enjoy even if i have to eke it out in the margins of society lol

[babybluebex]

Hey I love ur writing 😭💕 I was wondering could u write a fic for Joby Taylor where he sees you at a bar with ur friends and wants to take u home (which u do bc duh it’s fuckin joby) :P I feel like joby would be so good in bed.

i finally wrote this lol it's a bit of a fade to black situation bc i can't be assed to write a full smut scene rn

You typically didn’t go for guys like him. You yourself were pretty clean-cut and you usually went for guys that were the same way, but your friend’s elbowing and nudging and whispers of “The singer’s so hot” couldn’t be ignored. She was right after all; the singer was hot. He was the kind of hot that made your stomach turn and your legs tingle, especially when his dark hair fell into his eyes as he sang. You didn’t want to admit how hot he was, though, and you clapped as the band finished their song. 

“Thanks for coming out,” the singer said into the microphone. The venue wasn’t huge, just an average-sized bar, and you hadn’t even intended to see the band perform. You and your friend Chelsea had only meant to meet for drinks after work, and the band got onstage as you finished your second glass of wine. The crowd that did seem to come for the band had dwindled since the start, people much more alternative than you’d ever think to be, and you watched the singer turn and say something to the guitar player. The guitar player nodded, and the singer returned to the microphone. “We’ve got one more song tonight, this one’s… It’s called For Ellen.” 

It was a slower song, still as rock as the other ones, and you watched him as he grabbed the microphone and wet his lips. He looked out at the crowd as the guitar intro played, and you fell breathless when his eyes seemed to lock on you. There was no way he saw you, though; you were in the very back of the venue, sitting at the bar with Chelsea. You had almost successfully convinced yourself that he was just looking in your direction, and then he winked one of those dark eyes at you. 

“Jesus Christ,” Chelsea said. “Did he just wink at you?” 

“Apparently,” you mumbled. “I don’t think it was at me, I think it was… I don’t know.”

“I think he did,” Chelsea said as he began to sing. “Are you gonna try to talk to him after the show?”

“Fuck that,” you laughed. “If he comes and talks to me, sure, but I’m not fuckin’ going to him.”

“Think you’ll fuck him?” Chelsea asked, and you laughed again, this time at her audacity. 

“I don’t plan on it,” you said. “But, like I said, if he comes up and talks to me, y’know. Whatever. We’ll see what happens.” 

The conversation ended there, and you finished your drink as you watched the band perform. Everyone was stellar at their roles, the guitarist and drummer and bassist all talented, but the singer drew your eye more than anything. He wore black jeans that didn’t quite fit his slender frame, with a white belt that did little to actually do its job, along with a white tank top and a black hoodie. The stage lights glinted off of the necklaces earrings he wore, and he continually pushed the same strand of blackish-brown hair behind his ear. You couldn’t see him well enough to discern an eye color or much of anything else about him physically, but Chelsea was right: he was hot. He was a good singer too, singing about someone that he loved and lost, likely the Ellen that the song was named after, and you made a note to compliment his voice, if he did in fact come up to you after the show. 

The song ended and he finished his singing, and the bar clapped as he did a little half-bow. “We’ve been Snake Trouble,” he said. “Thanks for coming out tonight, we appreciate it.” 

“Snake Trouble,” you echoed as the singer hopped offstage. “That’s a shitty band name.” 

Chelsea shrugged. “You should tell him that,” she said. “He’s coming over here.”

“Oh, God,” you groaned, turning back to the bar. “Here we go.” 

You felt his presence next to you, and he quickly called out to the bartender: “Can I get another PBR?” Then, you finally turned and looked at him. He was much taller than you anticipated, and you smiled when you found him already looking at you. “Hey, gorgeous,” he said. “You like the show?” 

“It was good,” you nodded, sipping at your wine. “Not what I usually listen to, but it was good.” 

“That’s cool,” he said, and he exchanged money for the brown beer bottle that landed in his hand. “There’s something about live music, y’know? Makes you rethink what you like and know.”

“For sure,” you said. “I really liked that last song, For Ellen.”

The singer nodded and took a drink, and he said, “Yeah, it’s… It’s one of the more personal songs on our record. S’bout my daughter.”

“Aw,” you cooed. “That’s sweet. How old is she?” 

He watched you for a moment, just long enough for you to gauge the green-brown hues of his eyes, and he shook his head as he laughed humorlessly. “I’m not drunk enough for that yet,” he said. “What’s your name, babygirl?” 

Usually, you would have protested to the nickname, but the way his voice dripped like sweet honey, his mouth situated in a half-smile, made you swallow down your protest. Damn Chelsea, she had you clocked from the start. If he wanted to fuck, you’d agree. You told him your name and, when he repeated it, testing it out, you swear that you had never heard your name said so beautifully. “I’m Joby,” he told you. 

“Joby,” you echoed, pulling the same stunt that he had with you, and you watched his back straighten as your lips wrapped around his name. Joby. It was a good name. “Nice to meet you, Joby.” 

“Nice to meet you too, babygirl,” Joby said. He took another sip of his beer, and he grunted gently before he swallowed, wanting to keep your attention during the silence. “I’ve never seen you around here before.” 

“I typically don’t go to rock shows,” you told him. “Or bars. But, y’know, a hard day at work, we need a drink.” You looked over at Chelsea, only to find her out of her seat, leaving it empty. “Jesus, where’d she go?”

“Oh, your friend,” Joby said. “Yeah, she’s over at the stage, talking to James.” You turned again and found your friend exactly where Joby said, sitting on the edge of the stage and flirting with the guitar player. You silently cursed at her for leaving you alone, but you turned back to Joby quickly. 

“Guess that gives us some alone time, huh?” you said, and laughed when Joby nodded enthusiastically. “Anyway, how do you know that I don’t come here often? Do you keep a tally of all the chicks that come in?”

“Only the ones worth keeping track of,” Joby said with that same half-smile as before. “And you fit the bill.”

“Right,” you chuckled. “Well, I hate to tell you, but I’m not really worth keeping an eye on, especially your eye.”

“Why not?” Joby asked, his eyes narrowing playfully. 

You hummed for a second, thinking, and you said, “Because I think your band name sucks,” you replied. “Because I’m not really your type and you’re not really my type either.”

“My band name sucks?” Joby repeated, and you smiled as you nodded. 

“Snake Trouble? I mean, come on,” you sighed. “It sounds like you found a band name generator online and went with the first name it gave you.” 

“Alright, alright,” Joby said. “So, you hate my band. No trouble, baby. You did say you liked the last song, though.”

“It was the only one I liked,” you shrugged, and Joby feigned offense, his mouth opening and eyebrows furrowing. You laughed at him, and he dramatically put down his beer bottle. 

“I can’t believe this!” Joby gasped. “The hottest girl here hates my music! This is— What a tragedy! I can’t believe it!” 

“Whatever, calm down,” you smiled and took a sip of your drink. “I thought you looked hot, so that’s what matters.” 

“But you just said I’m not your type,” Joby argued, and you sighed.

“Being hot and being my type aren’t mutually exclusive,” you said. “I can appreciate that you’re an attractive guy and still not want to fuck you. That’s the only reason you came over to me anyway, right? To try to get in my pants?” 

“Fuck, you’re good,” Joby mumbled, rubbing his jaw in faux-defeat. “Yes, okay. Maybe that was the only reason I came over here, but, now that I’m here, I just like talking to you.” 

“Bullshit,” you replied, and Joby laughed. “Alright, let’s pretend I was into you. What would you do next?” 

“Okay,” Joby said, taking a drink of his beer and setting the bottle back on the wood top bar. “So, if you were into me, next, I’d ask you if you knew how to play pool, and you’d say you didn’t, and I’d insist on teaching you.” 

“So, do it,” you said. “Teach me.” 

“It’s less teaching and more just shoving my dick into your hip,” Joby admitted, those green eyes flashing with mischief, and you couldn’t help but smile. “I’d kiss you at some point, and by that time, you’ve been in my arms and felt my dick, and you’d beg me to take you home.” 

“Joby,” you said. “Teach me. It’ll lower your ego to strike out, you could do with a smaller ego.” 

“I don’t strike out,” Joby told you as he helped you down from the bar stool, his hand pressed flat against your back. “I’ve had more wins than losses.”

“Whatever,” you said, and you let Joby lead you to the pool table. Truthfully, you had no idea how to play pool, and, while you didn’t exactly intend for Joby to actually teach you, you would go by your own philosophy that it would be good for him to be brought down a few pegs. The table was unoccupied, the small crowd in the bar focused on other things, and Joby retrieved a pool cue from the wall.

“You ready?” he asked, holding out the cue to you, and you sighed. 

“Alright, I’ll be honest,” you said. “I actually don’t know how to play pool. You legitimately need to teach me.” 

Joby did that half-smile of his and rolled his eyes, and he said, “Alright. Just so you know, that’ll make it harder for you to say no to me.”

“Sure, whatever you say,” you told him. “C’mon, do your little shtick, let’s see it.” 

“At least pretend like you want it,” Joby said under his breath, and he was quick to press himself against your back, his hands gliding along your arms until he had you fully enveloped in his arms. “You hold the cue like this, okay? And…” He took a step forward, pressing himself fully against your back, and your breath hitched when you felt him against your ass, already deliciously hard. “Lean forward a little, so you can actually shoot, y’know.” 

“Jesus,” you giggled, and you instantly hated yourself for it. It was such a cliche thing to do, especially when you were supposed to be resisting his charms. You weren’t actually impressed by the feel of his hard dick pressing against you, were you? “It doesn’t take a lot to get you started, does it?” you added, hoping to play off your involuntary reaction as part of the ribbing. 

“Well, not when I’ve got such a pretty girl in my arms,” Joby chuckled, and you flushed at his words. “Oh, you like that? When I call you pretty?”

“At least we know you have good taste in women,” you said. Even though you were trying your hardest to laugh him off, he had you cornered. You really didn’t like him, did you? Was it just because he was hot? That had to be it. 

“Good taste, huh?” Joby said, and he smiled. “I bet you taste good.”

“Oh, creative word play,” you scoffed, but his arms held onto you in a way that made you feel weak in the knees. It was getting harder and harder to resist him, but you had to keep your wall up, at least for just a few more minutes.

“Would you let me?” Joby asked, those big green eyes widening as he titled his head curiously. 

“Let you do what?” you asked coyly, and Joby sighed. 

“You’re making me work for this, aren’t you?” he laughed in amusement. 

“The fun’s in the chase, right?” you offered, and you finally broke free of his grasp, pushing the pool cue fully into his hands. You started to move back to the bar, to your drink and seat, and you cast him a look over your shoulder as you settled back on your stool. 

“I thought you said that you didn’t want to fuck me,” Joby said as he siddled up next to you, grabbing his own beer back. 

You shrugged. “Maybe the tide turned,” you said. “Try me.”

Joby licked his lips and bit his bottom lip for just a moment, examining you, looking you up and down. If it was ten minutes ago, you would have hated how obviously he was checking you out, but it was just part of his charm now. The hot, greasy singer from the band was totally into you, and you just might be into him too, as long as he didn’t fumble his offer. Finally, he released his lip and moved closer, pressing himself right up against you, and he brought his mouth just inches away from your ear. “I wanna take you home,” he whispered, and you shivered as his hand snaked up and down your thigh, his finger lingering deliciously. “I’ll eat your pussy, see if you taste as good as you look.”

“And you’d fuck me?” you asked, and Joby nodded. 

“Oh, babygirl, I’ll fuck you,” Joby whispered. “I’ll fuck you so hard that you won’t even remember my name. You won’t be able to walk tomorrow, you’ll just be all weak and pathetic and begging for more. So… How about it, sugar?” 

“Damn!” you exclaimed. “I wanted so bad not to want you, but… You drive a hard bargain, baby.” 

[th84u]

kinktober day three: edging [seventeen’s mingyu]

fic type: drabble

pairing: sub! mingyu x hard dom! reader

genre: pure filthy smut i need jesus

word count: 1k (i wrote this in school please help)

warning: [nsfw] pwp, dom! reader, sub! idol, degradation (use of whore and slut), miss kink, orgasm denial, mingyu’s a brat lol, fwb, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), use of sex toys, begging, and obviously edging [smut under the cut]

the gasps and pants that filled the room echoed off the walls and you hummed in delight, twirling your pen swiftly.

glancing at your phone, you see that ten minutes have passed. “c’mon, gyu. you know what you’ve done to deserve this.” your voice is less threatening and harsh but more commanding and stern.

soft and muffled whimper fills the room as you roll your eyes and get up. “i told you to behave and yet you disobeyed me,” you pout, holding onto the small, pink controller. “do i have to make you my dumb whore again to remind you who you belong to?”

removing the gag, you see the way he glared at you. “you’re not my partner, y/n– you don’t get to tell me what to do– ah!” he lets out a moan as you increase the speed of the vibrator that’s pressed against his cock, another one in his ass.

arms tied above his head, he tugs against your restraints futilely. you grin at his words, index finger tapping your cheek slowly. “let’s see how long it takes to break you, hmm? you may be a strong and big man on the outside, mingyu, but soon you’ll be begging for me to let you cum like the slut you are.”

and of course you were right.

it only took another ten minutes for him to start begging to cum. “oh my god, i’m sorry, y/n, please– ah fuck, please let me cum, i promise i’ll be good!”

you sigh, crawling next to him before taking off the vibrator and setting it aside, but immediately stimulating his cock again. you wrap your hand around it, pumping it at an excruciatingly slow pace as mingyu whined, throwing his head back in pleasure.

your hands provided a warmth and grip that the vibrator didn’t and along with the one he had in his ass, it felt as if his senses were being overwhelmed.

“fuck, y/n, please!” he gasped, trying to thrust his hips upwards, but your hand held them down firmly.

“this is a punishment, mingyu. you don’t get to cum until i say so and if you do,” you warn him with a deep chuckle. “i’ll make sure you don’t cum for a month.”

the thought of not cumming for a month brought mingyu’s self-control back as he nodded, groaning when you started moving faster. “such a cheap whore for me, hmm?” you grin, staring into his eyes as he gasped, back arching off the back. “could the others make you feel like this, hmm? could they make you melt and moan like the slut you are?”

the way mingyu moaned and thrusted his hips was an indication that he was going to come soon, so you stopped moving, giving his cock a squeeze as he cried out, tears forming in the corner of his eyes. you look down at him, admiring the way he looked up at you needly.

“m-miss– ahhh, please,” he begged as you waited it out, allowing him to return from the high he nearly hit before you begin to move even faster than before. “o-oh, fuck,” he dragged his words out, drool trickling down the side of his lips as you giggle. “please– let me cum!”

“not yet, mingyu. this is a punishment and you’re going to endure another hour of this, you hear me?” you say, the slick and wet sound of his cock in your hand echoing off the walls. “and if you beg me nicely enough, maybe i’ll let you cum.”

and for another hour, you repeated the same actions over and over again. you would wait till he was going to cum, his eyes rolling back with his legs shaking before you stopped abruptly, not giving him the satisfaction of reaching his high.

by the end of the hour, mingyu could barely form a coherent sentence and you loved that. “well, i think you’ve been toyed with enough, hmm?” you grin as he nods, tears pooling down his cheeks as it stained your bedsheets. “you’ve been my good whore, i’m going to let you cum in me. does that sound good?”

mingyu sat up quickly, nodding a little too enthusiastically in your opinion, but you didn’t care. discarding your panties, you climb on top of him.

grabbing his pulsating red cock to align with your pussy, your cool touch on his hot cock making him hiss, but when you sank down, mingyu was so sure he was going to cum right there and then.

you moan softly, allowing yourself to adjust to his large size before you begin to move, the stimulation getting to him before you had even began. “oh my fucking god! shit,” he hissed as you took his hand, guiding it to your pussy and his thick fingers begin to rub your clit.

“that’s right, such a good whore for miss, hmm?” you groan, moving even faster, chasing the high you had been craving as mingyu let out soft whimpers. “tell me gyu: who’s whore are you, hmm? who’s the only one who can use you like the common slut you are?”

“you! you, miss!” he sobbed, thrusting his hips lazily into you. “i’m only a whore for you! i’m your slut!” he whined, eyes rolling back from the pleasure. “fuck, miss, can i cum please? please, please, please, let your whore come!”

you chuckle, tightening around him as he gasped loudly while you leaned in, blowing at his ear. “cum for me, my beautiful whore.”

and with that, mingyu let out a loud whine of your name, hips stuttering as you too reached your peak. you moan softly, hips coming to a halt as mingyu slowed down before his hips too came to a halt.

letting out a heavy breath, you grin. “so? will you be disobeying me from now on, gyu?” you ask as he stares blankly before a small smirk curls onto his face.

“if it means you calling me a slut and coming in your pussy? hell fucking yeah.”

[romanarose]

Sunshine, Starlight, Sweetheart, Brightside: Chapter 14

Masterlist here

Chapter 13 : Chapter 15

Marc Spector X Fem!OC

This is a part of an ongoing story, but you can read as a separate fic using context clues.

Fic Summary: Steven meets Sam and they strike up a quick relationship, both kindhearted and loving, they fall fast. But both have a lot going on. Steven had Marc and Moon Knight, and Sam has mental health problems of her own. Slowly, Steven starts to put together pieces of her story as Sam starts to get to know Marc and Jake. The four of them learn to navigate Sam's depression, family, and traumatic past as Sam helps Steven Marc and Jake navigate each other.

Chapter summary: Sam has something important to tell Marc, Steven leaves for the evening to give them privacy. Antics ensue lol

Chapter warnings: SMUT!!! Finally, we get good Marc content. P in V sex, ass smacking, dirty talk, choking, general rough sex and manhandling stuff.

Bold is Steven's thoughts

Italics are Marcs

No Jake this chapter but I promise more Jake is coming

Marc, you have to promise to behave. Steven was walking the stairs to Sam’s apartment, where she was going to surprise Marc with dinner. It was a friday night, which they almost always spent together.

God, what are you talking about now

We’re going to Sam’s and I’m gonna leave

What? Why? Isn’t she supposed to be at work? It’s only 5.

Listen, it’s supposed to be a surprise, but she’s cooking you dinner, she wants to talk. Jess is covering her afternoon and she skipped her last class to prepare this. 

Why would she do that? What the fuck does she want to talk about?

Christ Marc, why do you have to be such a cock? It’s not bad

Then tell me what it is!

Marc just be nice. She skipped class right before finals, you don’t have to… ugh I can’t tell you what it’s all about but you just have to be nice, you don’t have go reciprocate, but don’t be a fucking dick. I don’t want a repeat of the scarf incident. 

Jesus, are you still mad about that?

Am I still mad about my loving girlfriend making you a scarf and you throwing it in her face? Yeah, I am

For fucks sake Steven I didn’t throw it in her face

You may as well have. They arrived at her door Now come to the front

No, not when you guys are ambushing me. 

We’re not!- ugh. Steven calmed himself Can you please just front? I’ll leave the headspace but I’ll come out if you need me, okay?

Marc sighed mentally Fine. Don’t be far.

I won’t

Marc fronted and gave himself a few breaths before knocking

“Come in!!” He heard Sam call from the inside. He recognized the tinge in her voice; she was nervous too.

Marc took one more deep breath and walked in. There she was, standing with the table in front of her, wearing a red dress and black tights (her favorite color combo). Her face was smiling, but the crease between her eyebrows was a dead give away how anxious she was. Sam’s face was all done up, so was her hair, curled into ringlets that went past the neckline of the dress that showed far too little cleavage. He loved her face as god made it, but something about when she wore dark red lipstick… Man, that drove him crazy. Did she know that? Was that on purpose?

“Hey” she squeeked out nervously, trying so hard to be casual.

Marc took a few steps forward, closing the door behind him “Hey Brightside… what is this” he circled the table. Was that Challah? “Sam, what’s going on?”

Marc noticed as soon as her breathing picked up “Oh god, this is weird, isn’t it? I knew it was weird the whole time I was making this.”

“Sam, it’s not weird… what exactly is it?” Red wine was on the table.

Sam wrung her hands together “Well… I wanted to talk to you so I decided to make you dinner for it and then I thought… well… it’s friday… oh god this is probably super inappropriate huh?”

“Is this…” he glanced at the table, then at her “Did you make me Shabbat dinner?”

“I mean, not really, I’m not Jewish… I just looked up traditional foods and made some kosher stuff… Well as Kosher as I could get… It started with the Challah and I just dove into it and next thing I knew… It was a whole thing…” She looked like she could burst into tears “I’m sorry if this isn’t something I’m supposed to be doing or if you don’t like it-”

“How long did this take you?”

“It’s nothing I just… I was hoping we could talk?” she pulled back a bit.

“Yeah, yeah of course… Are you okay?”

She finally smiled again “Yeah, I’m great, Starlight… There’s just something I wanted to tell you and I wasn’t sure when the right time was and I wasn’t sure how you’d react” 

Marc thought of the scarf and how hurt she looked when he rejected the gift. “What is it?” he was feeling anxious, she said nothing was wrong, but he wasn’t sure he believed her

“Well, you and I have been spending a lot of time together, sometimes without Steven and I really love seeing you-” Sam started rambling.

What the hell is she talking about? I’ve been an ass to her.

“And I remember you coming to get me from the bar, and us dancing to Mr. Brightside-”

Oh god, she remembers that

“And the way you dipped me and… and we kissed-”

She’s mad about that, I should’ve never let her kiss me drunk

“I think about that kiss a lot, I’ve been thinking about it all week, I want… I’ve wanted to kiss you again…”

What? She wants to kiss me?

“I think about you all the time, Marc-”

This is all wrong

“I love you” Marc blurted out, hardly believing he let it slip “Shit, sorry I wasn’t supposed to say that…” Marc began panicking. No, no backtrack you idiot. Take it back, you’re all wrong for her.

“You love me?” Sam couldn’t help but notice how much this scene mirrored her and Steven saying I love you the first time.

“I shouldn’t have said that, I’m sorry, I’ll go, I’m sorry” Marc started pacing the room “This is all wrong, I’m sorry, I’m sorry” he tugged at his hair with his right hand, but Sam grabbed his left, forcing him to look at her.

“Starlight, whatever could you be sorry for?”

“I shouldn’t have said that, Steven’s gonna kill me, I-”

“I love you too” She looked at him with a mix of love and concern.

Marc pulled his hand away, shutting his eyes. “No, don’t say that” he whispered.

“Why” she seemed so small, so quiet.

“I’m wrong for you. Steven is what you need, not me” he was squeezing his eyes closed, begging for this to all go away.

“I need both of you”

“No, no you don’t I will only hurt you, I hurt everything I touch…” Marc opened his eyes finally, as he echoed the words Steven had said to him when Marc first began revealing himself.

“No, you don’t Marc” Sam took his face in her hands, focusing him, grounding him.

He looked into her eyes, bright and blue, she looked so innocent, he couldn’t stand if he took that spark out of her eyes “You don’t want any part of this…”

Sam wanted to kiss him on his full lips, but opted to pull him in for a hug, arms wrapping around his wide center “I want every part of this. Do you know why I call you Starlight?”

He returned the hug. He knew he should pull away, but didn’t “No…”

“Steven is my Sunshine, that’s obvious. He’s like a golden retriever. He lights up my day. But days can’t last forever. Sometimes things get dark. But in the dark, there's always the light from the stars. It doesn’t take away the dark, but that’s not the point of the stars. The point is to guide, to orient. And that’s you. When things are dark, you are there to guide me. You are my star light, and I love you…”

“I don’t want to hurt you” he tugged her tighter.

“I know baby, I know. I don’t want to hurt you either.”

“You could never hurt me”

“People hurt people. It happens. We can work through each other’s problems, it’ll be ok… I just want to be with you. I want to hold you, to kiss you, protect you” She wanted to protect him? No one had ever said they wanted to protect him before…

Marc, despite his best efforts, felt himself getting hard. He tried to pull his hips away, but he didn’t want to end the hug.

“I will keep you safe, Brightside, I promise. No one will hurt you under my watch.” He stroked her hair, his other hand tracing her back “I just want you to be happy…”

“I want to spend my life making you smile…” Sam felt him growing hard as their bodies were pressed against each other “Marc…” She pulled her upper torso back, smirking at him “Love, are you getting hard at emotional intimacy?”

Marc laughed softly and touched his forehead to hers “Maybe…shhh” he wrapped a hand into her hair, tangled up in red, to take her into a kiss. 

When their lips clashed together, Sam knew immediately that despite sharing a body with her beloved Steven, he felt different. How that was possible, she didn’t know. Steven was passionate, Marc was desperate. He kissed her like she would disappear, like she was pleading with her to stay, god she wanted him. He pulled her closer, hand running through her body, trying to feel every bit of her at once. The hand in her hair tightened, pulling at her scalp as she lowered her hand to grab his ass. God, he really was thick everywhere “Fuck, what are you doing with all that ass”

 “I could ask you the same thing” Marc chuckled, smacking Sam’s butt.

Sam ground her hips against his at the feeling of the smack, she hoped that would continue tonight. She moved to his pants and started fumbling with the belt, but he stopped her, grabbing her hands.

“Ah, ah, ah. We gotta have dinner first”

Sam whined “Noooo”

Marc pulled back, fixing her hair and smoothing out her dress as she pouted at him, lip jutting out “You prepared this thoughtful meal, we’re going to eat it.” He walked behind her, wrapping his strong arms around her, swaying her a bit “Just think about all the things you want me to do to you, consider it foreplay” He let go, and pulled out a chair for her.

Sam sat down, squirming against the chair as Marc pushed it back in “Hell of some fucking foreplay…” she muttered.

The dinner was thick with tension. Marc kept the conversation going, despite the straining in his pants growing. Oh, the things he wanted to do to her… He wondered what she would let him do. It occurred to him that she might not have liked when he smacked her ass, given her past… she didn’t seem to mind though... Marc made a mental note to make sure to ask her.

The dinner was delicious. Marc was genuinely touched by the effort she went through to make something resembling Shabbat dinner. Of course, memories were brought back, memories of his childhood, his mom, his dad, the synagogue, Randel… But for some reason, the memories were good. That’s what she did to him. She always looked on the bright side of things despite everything life had thrown at her. Marc supposed it was infectious. And god, the way she was eyeing him all night… The way she would look at him, bite her lips and wiggle in her chair… he knew she was thinking of him, thinking of him taking her… I’m gonna take real good care of her… This is going to be everything she needs… I gotta make sure she’s happy… 

When diner ended, Marc took his plate and walked around to get hers, the look she gave him was pleading. He liked teasing her like this, making her squirm. He did the dishes for her as she leaned against her counter “Marc, please…”

“Please what?” he teased as he put the last dish away, even as his cock was aching for her.

“Please fuck me” She asserted.

He stared at her, open mouthed. Well, how was he supposed to refuse her?

Marc sped around the counter, yanking her to him, bruising his lips in the kiss, and even more so when she bit his lower lip.

“Tell me” he muttered into her neck as he kissed along her collar bone, hand floating up to her breasts “Tell me how you want it”

“I want” a gasp “I want you to do whatever you want to my body”

Marc growled, the things I want to do… but he needed more “That’s not gonna work, I need you to tell me…”

“I want…” Sam wriggled in his arms, catholic guilt stopping her from saying what she wants.

Marc’s tone softened “I don’t want to hurt you or do something you don’t want… I need you to be clear, because the things I want…”

Sam cupped both of his ass cheeks in her hands “I want what you want, I want this to be good for you… ” She spoke between kisses along his jawline.

Marc looked at her, concentrating on her features “Love, this will be good for me, no matter what. Just you is enough” A deep kiss on the lips.

“I want… Oh god this is awkward…” She cringed “I want you to be rough… I want you to manhandle me and… I liked when you spanked me…” she winced, but smiled.

Marc smiled back broadly “That’s what I want too… Are there things you don’t want? I don’t want to hurt you… Well, I don’t want to hurt you in a way you don’t want” he winked.

Sam giggled, hiding her face in his chest “Sorry, I’m so awkward about this…”

“It’s okay brightside, it’s okay”

“I don’t really have anything I don’t want… besides what I told Steven, do you remember?”

“Yes, of course”

“I wouldn’t really know what else I don’t like… Can we, how about I just tell you if I want you to stop?”

Marc pulled her off his chest, holding her chin in his hands “Of course, you tell me if you don’t like something, okay?”

“Okay. Now please” She grabbed his shirt tightly, staring into his chocolate eyes with wide-eyed passion. “Fuck me, Marc Spector”

He moved close to her ear “I thought you’d never ask, Brightside.” Without any warning, Marc turned Sam around and shoved her over the couch, lifting up her red skirt and smacking her right ass cheek, hard. 

“Ah! Harder, please” Sam begged

Marc obliged, hitting her harder and making her cry out, he soothes the red spot over. “Too hard?” His tone was light, but the question was genuine.

“It’s perfect” Sam squirmed her legs together, which gave Marc a front view of her ass moving in front of him, red underwear still covered in the mesh of her tights.

“Fuck, fuck baby…” Marc couldn’t take it anymore, he grabbed two fistfull of her tights and ripped the tights open.

“Marc!” Sam cried out.

Marc knelt down beneath where she was bent over “I’ll buy you new ones” he grumbled, moving one of the legs up to the couch to allow him access. He dove in, burying his face into her crotch, slipping a finger into her vagina and sucking on her over the underwear. Sam gripped the cloth on her couch, trying to keep herself up right but her leg was growing weak under the pleasure flowing through her. “Marc, fuck, just like that.” He ate her like a starved man, like it was his last meal on death row, Sam gripped out the couch as she was devoured, the stubble rubbing against her thighs. Marc moved a finger to swirl over her clit

. He worshiped at the shrine of her, kneeling, praying to the goddess that was above him. The only thing compelling him to change positions was that he needed to see her face, feel her body, and pull that beautiful auburn hair.

“MARC! Marc, fuck, I’m so close already” dinner really was forplay. 

He loved the sound of his name on her red lips “Not yet” Marc removed his mouth from her, making Sam whine.

“Marc please!” She pleaded, rutting against the couch, slipping a hand down to bring herself her own release.

Marc grabbed the hand, and put it behind her lower back, holding it there “You don’t get to get off that easy” He released his throbbing cock from the restraints of his pants “You don’t cum until I say you can, okay?”

“Okay” Sam groaned as Marc moved aside her underwear.

“Can you say ‘Yes sir’?” He lined himself up at her entrance, teasing her hole with the head.

“Mmmmm” Sam wiggled her hips against him, trying to get some sort of feeling.

Marc pressed the hand that was behind her back into her, holding her hips to the couch “Use your words.” He continued to tease her, dipping ever so slightly into her, feeling the wetness. He unzipped the back of her dress, giving her more room to breathe.

“Yes sir!” She cried out.

“Good girl” Marc muttered, ramming his cock into her, making her scream his name loud enough the neighbors probably heard. Good He thought. He let her hand go, and used it to brace himself against the couch, as the other moved to trace around her neck. “Can I choke you?” He asked gently “You can say no” He was ramming hard into her, hitting the spot deep inside her.

“Please” Sam said through pants.

Permission granted, Marc reached out and took her throat in his hand, squeezing along the sides. He was careful not to hurt her and not to actually make it hard to breath, but when she thrust her head back Marc saw a smile.

He drew his free hand back and smacked her again, hard. And he felt her body jolt forward from the pain. He watched her body, bent over the couch in the red dress raised up for him as he disappeared into her. He ran his handover her body: fingers entagnled in her hair, squeezing her tits, holding onto her hips. He had to know she was real, this couldn’t be a dream, not again. It felt like a dream. He knew he wasn’t watching Steven, no, Steven would never have her like this. But it didn’t stop him from doubting his eyes. It didn’t make sense, and yet, here she was. Bent over in front of him, her cute skirt riding up her ass, watching himself fuck her. “You like this baby? You like when I fuck you like this?”

“Y-yes sir” She mumbled.

Marc grinned, she was being fucked so dumb she couldn’t hardly put two words together, all because of him.

He pulled out of her, leaving Sam empty again. Before she had a chance to orient herself he pulled her to the bed, shoving her down on the comforter. Marc knelt down, ripping her weak underwear in his large hands, making her gasp “You gonna buy, hmmm, me new underwear too?” Sam teased as she felt him grip her thighs with a force that would surely leave bruises.

Marc was mesmerized at the sight of her cunt dripping for him “Baby, whatever I need to buy to get another night like this… I’ll do it” He slid two fingers inside her.

She laughed, entangling her fingers in his dark hair. “Just underwear will do.”

Marc wasn’t hardly paying attention “I’m gonna buy you so much fucking underwear”

When Sam felt his mouth go to her clit as his fingers worked inside her, she threw her head back and swore. Marc worked his hands and tongue against her, occasionally curling his finger up just to feel her hips buck when he hit that right spot.

“MARC!” Sam called out.

“Not yet, don’t fucking come yet” He muttered underneath her.

She writhed against the comforter, attempting to hold back the orgasm.

Marc came up, climbing onto of her to bring her in for a wet his, tasting herself on his lips. Marc assisted Sam in getting out of the dress, then the bra, taking her tits in his mouth as soon as he saw them. He swirled her tongue around the nipple, Sam rubbing Marc’s naked back in encouragement. He kissed down to her stomach, gripping her sides as he focused his mouth on the part of her body he knew she was insecure about. “So sexy…” He kissed around her belly button, to her hip bones, giving a gentle bite at her right love handle, giving the left side a squeeze.

Her hands were in his hair as she whispered “What are you doing?”

He looked up at her briefly before he sucked right below the stomach, hoping to leave marks on the sensitive, pale skin. “Appreciating every inch of you.” He moved over her, kissing on the scars on her thighs.

Sam felt her heart swell at the intimacy, how he loved the parts of her she hated. 

He kissed his way back up her body and cupped her face as he kissed her again, sucking on her tongue before he pulled away and smacked her tit.  “Hands and knees, Brightside” Marc thought Steven did not take her like this nearly enough. Steven said he liked to see her face. Marc liked having her submit to him.

“Yes sir” Sam did as she was told and scrambled to her knees, facing away from him. 

“You behave, and I’ll let you come, Okay? Can you do that?”

A small whine “Yes sir.”

Marc took a moment to marvel at the sight of her ass before him, caressing her, memorizing her. He couldn’t help himself, he bit down on her right cheek, hard. Sam screamed into the pillow. Marc went back to work, fucking her until sweat dripped down his face “Fuck, you feel so good, you’re taking me so well. I love the feeling of your tight cunt around me, the little sounds that come out of your mouth, you’re so fucking good, I just want to ruin you.”

“So ruin me” tears were brimming in her eyes.

Marc growled loudly, shoving her face into the pillow by her neck. When he released her so she could breath and she pushed herself up onto her arms, he smacked her tits as he pounded her. The sounds coming from between them were sinful; the pants from his mouth, the whines from hers and the wet squish from her cunt, god, he just wanted to imprint everything into his memory.

“You’re doing so good, such a pretty girl, such a good, pretty girl… Doing fucking amazing for me…” He took her hair into a makeshift ponytail, pulling her head up.

“Marc…” she whimpered “F-fuck baby, you feel so good”

Marc gripped her hips with a force, pulling her to meet his thrusts. He briefly thumbed over the indents her scars left on her body, he just wanted her to feel good, he wanted to make her feel good. “Are you ready to come for me?”

Sam nodded vigorously “Please, please let me come, please I’ve been waiting for this for months baby”

Another hard slap to her ass, then he reached around to play with the bundle of nerves right above where he was hitting, he leaned his sweaty body over her and put his face close to her ear “Come for me, Brightside.”

When the orgasm finally wracked through her body, Sam collapsed onto the bed. Marc adjusted his angle to keep fucking her, until he got his release. Sam didn’t even notice, too blissed out, her arms and legs were spread across the bed as the intense orgasm flowed through her. She felt like she was aware of every vein in her body, but somehow unaware of anything farther than the pillow she was on. Everything seemed so blurry, so peaceful. When she came to, it was to a warm washcloth on her back. Marc wiped her down, ending with cleaning her vagina of his come. 

Sam turned over on to her side, looking up at the man she loved. “Can you lay with me for a while? I gotta do some homework in a bit, but I want to just… be with you… please?”

“Of course, my love… Of course...” Marc laid down beside her, encasing his body around hers and tracing around her curves. He tried not to linger on the scars, he didn't want her to think he was staring at them, but he was. Some were so thick, some left indents and some were raised. Some were pink circles from the newer burns, and some were white circles whose scars pulled in the skin around them. The cuts were concentrated heavily at her upper thighs, closer to her hips but worked their way up. Marc ran the pads of his fingers over her stomach, feeling the scars etched in. He held back a wince imagining how badly that would've hurt. He imagined a young Sam, hurt and alone and scared, he knew that pain. It hurt him to think she was ever sad enough hurt herself, it angered him to think of every man that ever hurt her. He wanted to make her dad pay, he wanted to make Jordan pay. He wanted to make them suffer.

After a while of silence, Sam spoke “Marc?”

Marc snapped out of his anger, focusing instead on the woman in his arms. “Yes?” He was playing with an auburn curl.

“Can I ask you something, and you can’t laugh at me or make fun of me…”

Oh no “Of course not, what’s wrong?” Marc leaned over to look at her, but she was staring at a Bruce Springsteen poster on the wall. 

“You don’t think I’m… well, you like the way I look, don’t you?”

Mark sat up now, attempting to get her eye. “Of course I do. Whatever made you think I don’t? Did I say something?”

Still looking away, she answered “No, Starlight, you didn’t say anything, it’s just… sometimes I need reassurance… I feel your hands on my fat and I feel weird… I worried that once you had me, you’d realize I didn’t live up to expectations and… wouldn’t be attracted anymore”

“Baby… First of all, I’ve seen you naked countless times, I was already in love with how you look… And my hands are on your body because I love your body… I love every curve, your long legs, your tits, your pretty face, your blue eyes, the red in your hair… I love everything about how you look because it’s you. If anything changed, I would love that too, because I love what's in here” He tapped her head.

“Even when I’m a depressed mess?” she finally looked at him.

Marc chose his next words carefully “Not that I want you to be depressed, but I gotta say that fact that you are as incredible as you are all while fighting your brain… well that just endears you to me more.”

She smiled a little bit, looking at him with adoration. “That’s why you’re my Starlight”

Marc kissed her forehead “Take a nap, I’ll wake you in a bit to work on your homework.”

Marc stayed true to his word, waking Sam after she got half an hour of sleep. He wanted to watch her sleep forever, she deserved to rest, but he didn’t know how much she had to do. What’s that song? The one from that one movie with the chick from Lord of the Rings? “I could stay awake just to hear you breathing, feeling your heart beating while you’re far away dreaming” He hoped that if she dreamt, it was only good dreams. She sat up in her bed and asked Marc to hand her a shirt, he grabbed the one he had been wearing when he came over. Sam was finishing the final essay for her Preschool Practicum class, and she asked Marc to proofread after she had gone through a few rounds.

Marc was hesitant. “You sure you want me to look at it? Isn’t Steven better suited for this?”

“I’m spending the day with you, Marc. You are just as capable of picking up grammar mistakes as Steven is.”

“I don’t know about that… What if I change something to something wrong.” Marc muttered as he picked up the laptop.

Sam took Marc’s face in her hand and turned it towards her “Marc, honey. You are very smart. Just because you can’t list every single Egyption pharaoh doesn’t mean you aren’t smart. Okay?”

Marc wanted to fight her, he wanted to shrug off the compliment with a joke or argue it. But she looked at him with so much love and sincerity… he couldn’t help but almost believe her. “Okay.”

Sam hugged him, it was a small, quick, and awkward hug, but a hug nonetheless. He would never tell her what the hugs meant. He wouldn’t want them to become diluted into something she just did because he liked it. No, he wanted them to come from her. He would never tell her how such a chaste, innocent, wholesome act melted his heart or how he felt like little pieces of himself came together with each one. No, no she wouldn’t know that. But every time she hugged him, he wanted to stay like that forever.

THANK YOU SO MUCH TO EVERYONE WHOSE BEEN INTERACTING!!! I seem to get less and less interaction which makes me sad, but I have a story to tell and I will tell it! Reblogs really help a LOT! Tumblr doesn't really have an algorithim so reblogs (with or without tags) are the best way to spread my work! comments mean the world to me!! I literally get so hyped every time! I'm glad y'all seem to really like Sam as a character. I don't mind doing reader fics but I can't stand Y/N. I like my characters to be real characters, not just a blank slate.

Comment if you'd like to be added to ttag list!

I'm working on a one shot request for Moon Knight, I'd like to get more one shots going but between this fic, my Han solo fic on AO3 and really wanted to get another Bruce Springsteen fic out per a request, I got a lot to do and I'm moving to college soon!

@ahookedheroespureheart @cherryvalentine1 @kr-mlk