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shewrites444 · 7 months ago

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pretty [ art donaldson x babysitter/age gap! reader smut ]

[ Hiii me popping up on here for the first time in forever lmao. I've been on a Challengers kick lately, let me know if I should write more on Art perhaps. :D ]

WC - 3.5k (unedited story, so apologies for any errors)

[ Summary - The reader and Art have been having an affair for the past few months after she became the Donaldsons' occasional babysitter. A lot of porn with a slight plot. ]

[ Warnings - Age gap (reader is college-aged, art is in his like mid-thirties), cursing, cheating/affair, oral (m&f receiving), dirty talk, tiny breeding kink mention, unprotected sex ]

It's not like it mattered to Tashi, well, anymore, what her husband did in his free time. A year or so ago, when Art found out about Tashi and Patrick's on-going affair at their challenger, he felt crushed, defeated, sickened, all emotions jumbled into one component, knowing what his wife was doing behind closed doors since they were teenagers. No amount of "I love you's" could make her drawn closer to him, no amount of care, compassion.. nothing. I mean, it would only make sense that an affair that lasted over ten years, especially with his former best friend and teammate, would fundamentally fuck up their marriage.

Tashi tried to fix it, she really did, by cutting off all connections to Patrick, promising Art she'd be better for not only him, but their daughter, Lily, and the careers and finances they shared together. She knew all the logic behind an affair was unjustifiable, and it made sense to fix a marriage with someone who genuinely cared for her and the family, careers, and finances they created together.

Art stopped playing tennis that year, and like they had promised each other months before, decided to work on the foundation full time, and with newer responsibilities, came the need for a sitter that wasn't only one of their parents when Art had a game or two.

That's where you came into the picture.

You were an undergraduate student at NYU, about to graduate in the spring with a heavy need for any sort of finances to help you afford your rent the rest of the semester. Knowing that your niece was in class with Art and Tashi Donaldson's daughter, that set up a fairly easy connection to a potential babysitting gig. They were millionaires, hell, maybe even billionaires at this point, so you'd be bound to get a pretty solid paycheck.

You were in luck. They needed an occasional sitter on the weekends, and a handful of nights during the week, and given that they both knew your sister, you were already trusted. Easy money.

You got along with Lily pretty well, too. Not to mention the Donaldsons were kind to you as well, and the amount of money they gave you for watching their one daughter, who was pretty self-sufficient other than needing to have a bedtime story or two read to her each night, was fucking ridiculous. Not like you were rolling in dough, but they surely overpaid you. Not like that was a problem for either parties, though.

Overtime, you talked more to Art when Tashi was starting to have more meetings, interviews, and other miscellaneous tasks that required her attention as they expanded connections to the foundation. At first, it was a bit awkward, given that when babysitting, usually the dad was a bit more absent, or quiet, but he warmed up to you after a few nights. He'd ask you about how Lily was, even ask you about school, or what you wanted to do after graduation, pay you, and that was really it. It was simple, really, until it wasn't.

And here you were, months later, standing at the small kitchen island in your apartment, which was, frankly, a bit inhumane in size for an inhabitant, but it's New York City, and it's what you could afford, even on the Donaldson's payroll. You had a small salad bowl in front of you, sliding the grape tomatoes off the cutting board in your hand into the mixture, as no other than Art Donaldson stood next to you, the tongs in his hand as you handed him the bowl.

Playing house with a married 35-year-old man wasn't on your list of things to do this year, but it's not like you were complaining.

From an outside perspective, it felt wrong, but to you, it felt just right. It was cliche, and well, bad, being apart of an affair for a multi-millionaire last name, and a man that was married, with a whole family, but you tried not to think about it.

Did you love him? You had never been in love, so you didn't really know, but probably not, at least not yet. Did he love you? You didn't think so, but he definitely favored you more than his own wife, and you weren't even thinking that because of the situation, you genuinely knew he preferred you.

"You want me to put a show on?" Art asked softly, glancing down at you as you walked over to the kitchen, rinsing off the cutting board. His eyes averted to your ass, glancing at the sweat shorts that hugged your figure, before looking up to meet your eyes when you turned around.

You knew he checked you out, it's not like that came to a surprise. Art was sweet, really, but it's not like he wasn't a sexual man because he was older. If anything, that made his sex drive higher. You shrugged, sliding past him to open the fridge and grab the salad dressing. "Eh, I'm good with whatever."

You can hear him set the bowl down, and his free hand travel to the side of your waist, over the thick cotton of your sweatshirt, as you grin to yourself, shaking your head while you set the dressing on the counter. "Shouldn't we eat first?"

"Just missed you today." Art muttered, lightly turning you around to face him before giving your forehead a light peck. "Haven't seen you all week, pretty."

Your cheeks redden, and the familiar pit in your stomach follows directly after. Fuck. Art was older than you, yes, but an emotional man at the fact of it, but he was so fucking needy. He'd come see you, not even two or three days between, and act like it had been two months without contact. He'd lay his head on your chest, play with your fingers, tell you how much he missed you, all because you hadn't seen him in not even a week. From the outside, that probably looked pathetic, a married man, who had a wife and child at home, coming to a college-aged girl's apartment, not even the size of his bedroom, cuddling her like he was a teenager. It was fucking toxic, actually, but again, you tried not to think about that part of it.

"Well, why don't we eat, and then you can show me that you missed me later, hm? That okay?" You step back slightly to look up to him, reaching forward to cup his rose-tinted, pale cheeks. You lean up to kiss him, pulling away to slide out of his embrace, your eyes following the meal you had just made together.

Art was pouting, basically, as he frowned at the corner of his mouth, walking towards the other side of you and gently taking the tongs out of your hand. "I'd rather show you now. You can't tell me you don't want me to fuck you right here, sweetheart."

"Art." You purse your lips together, shooting him a glare. You could pretend to be annoyed all you want, but he knew you weren't aggravated with him. It's not like you didn't enjoy him fucking the shit out of you on your kitchen counter, or anywhere, matter of fact. He'd fuck you right in your car when he walked you out of his house after babysitting, he didn't give a fuck. He liked you a lot, way more than he should, even in the given scenario of an affair.

"What?" He tilted his head, looking down at you with that stupid cheeky-ass grin he'd always give you when he knew you were fibbing. You wanted him, obviously. Sometimes, he didn't know why you even pretended to act like you didn't want it right then and there.

Art really wasn't even the most dominating guy, but if that's what you wanted, he'd put on a fucking show. He'd bend you over and fuck the shit out of you if that's what you wanted him to do. He'd make it hurt, if that's what you wanted him to do. But again, he liked you, so he'd never actually hurt you.

You glance down between you, the obviously erection in his sweatpants pointing right at you. You look back up to him, that look of pure want on his face so obvious. You glance to your bedroom. You don't have to speak, he already knows, and he listens so fucking easily.

The chemistry between the two of you was a fucking pain sometimes. You'd be so wet when he'd do as much as touch your back, it would piss you off sometimes, and you would think that after fucking him for a few months now, that feeling of freshness would go away, but it didn't.

You'd do more than just fuck, too. If he wasn't such a public figure, he'd take you out on real date, probably try to pursue you in some way if he wasn't married, and just a more normal-status guy, but that wasn't the case. He would make efforts though, buy you flowers sometimes when he'd come over, order the two of you something to eat, whether it was Chinese takeout or a 5-star review restaurant steak, he didn't care. He just wanted to please you, the best he could. All the time.

Right now, his definition of pleasing you was gesturing for you to lay down on your twin-sized bed, and plant his face between your legs, eating your pussy until you were begging him to fuck you with something other than his tongue.

You wiggled yourself out of your shorts and underwear in one, Art assisting you by pulling them off your ankles and onto the wooden floor. He spread your knees apart, kneeling on the hard ground before his hot breath was planting kisses between your thighs, his eyes never leaving yours.

You gulp, averting your attention to his mouth. You watch him get closer, and you can only gasp when he latches onto your clit. You feel him move his hand onto your thighs, wrapping around them from the back and holding your sides, his pale, calloused hands digging into your skin. It didn't hurt though, not at all.

"Oh my god." Leaves your mouth without a single thought. Art knew exactly how to please you. "Art, you're gonna make me cum before you even fuck me."

He looked up to you, lips still pressed against your pussy, his eyes locked with yours for a moment, before he focused his attention to your body again. He didn't care. Guess that was the point.

You shake your head in disbelief, your back naturally arching as he pressed his tongue harder against you. God, you couldn't even imagine what it was going to be like when his cock was inside you, even though you'd slept together plenty of times before.

His tongue kept pace on your clit, as he moved one of his hands off your thigh and closer to your pussy, gently pushing his middle finger through your folds. Fucking hell, as if he couldn't make you more turned on.

"Art." His name rolled off your tongue. "You're gonna make me cum. I wanna finish with you."

He listened to you, and he obliged, despite how much he wanted you to cum now. Art slowly pulled his finger out of you, and his mouth away from you. He leaned up, motioning himself on top of you, before you moved your hands to lightly push him off.

"What's wrong?" He asked, almost immediately, his eyes dropping, almost disappointed. You knew his cock was aching to be inside you.

You lean up, your hands traveling to rest against the sides of his broad shoulders. "Here. Lay down."

Art wasn't going to fight that. He eagerly nodded at your request, your positions switching in seconds as he laid down on your bed. Your hands began to pull at the waistband on his sweats, and his underwear, sliding them off his body in one.

You weren't one for sucking cock, but with Art, you fucking adored it. You liked to watch him fall apart at just your mouth, knowing that he'd crumble once he fucked your pussy. You liked edging him to the point he was whining, begging, pleading to fuck you, or you to fuck him. Just depended on the day.

"You gonna suck my cock, pretty girl?" Art asked you, softly, a half-smile on his pink lips as he moved one of his hands to cup your cheek, his elbow propping his body up slightly. "Gonna let me fuck your mouth?"

"Mhm." You murmur, nodding as you move down to spit on his cock, wetting the tip before you peck a few kisses against his tip, glancing up at him as you laid on your stomach towards the end of your bed, front of your body aligned with his middle. "Gonna let you fuck my throat, Art."

Art's grin followed the rest of his lips, his cheeks dark red as his mouth hung open. He watched you lean down, his cock enveloped by your mouth. You had pretty, plump lips. Pretty and full lashes you'd bat when he fucked your throat. He could watch you suck him off all day. He could just be with you all day.

"You're so beautiful, [Y/N]. My pretty girl." He praised you, his hand still glued to your cheek, bits of spit against his thumb as you bobbed your head, his cock hard and full in your mouth. "Gonna let me fill your mouth up, hm? Or should I fill your pussy instead? What do you want, baby?"

It's not like you could answer the question. You keep sucking him off, looking up to his blue eyes, before you force him down your throat, muffling any sort of gag that your body desperately wanted to let out. You wanted him to know you could take his cock.

"God." He moaned, his eyes never leaving yours. He rubbed your cheek. "Your mouth feel so good, but I really wanna fuck you. Please, baby. I wanna cum in you. That pretty pussy, please."

It didn't take you much convincing to slide his cock out of your mouth and lay down on your bed. It made you feel embarrassed, desperate even, with how eager you were to have him stuff his cock inside you. Not like he judged you for that at all, just internal thoughts you'd have occasionally.

He sat up, his cock hard and straight, as his knees dug into the mattress. He took his shirt off in one pull, tossing it into the pile of your combined clothes before he moved you more towards the middle of the bed. He aimed his cock at your pussy, your legs spread wide for him, before he leaned forward, slowly pushing himself inside you, the both of you moaning at the raw feeling.

Art could be rough if you wanted him to, and you'd do the same for him, but typically, he savored the moment he entered you each and every time. He'd told you several times, that you were no where near in comparison to any woman he'd been with. No competition. You were it. In every way. Part of him wished he had met you earlier, maybe at Stanford or even grade-school. God, he would've worshipped you back then, all the way to now, and the future. You checked off all his boxes, physically, emotionally, sexually, everything. In a different narrative, he would've married you and had a life with you. Fuck tennis. Fuck everything. He'd rather whatever life he could've had with you.

"You feel so good, pretty. You always do." Art leaned down to press a hard kiss against your lips. He pecked your cheek, his lips moving to your ear. "I'm gonna fill that pussy. Gonna make you mine, baby, my sweet girl.. You want that? You like that?"

You nod, your mouth open as you moan, rather loudly as he picked his pace up the more he talked to you. "Y-Yes, baby, fuck yes, fill me up. You're so fucking sexy.. You fuck me so good, Art."

Art groaned at your response, moving his head back to align above yours, his overgrown curls bouncing with his movements, the bed squeaking underneath you. He'd let his hair grow out a bit more lately since you complemented it awhile back.

"Gonna fill this pussy, pretty girl. Gonna give you my cum." He muttered, almost to himself, as he looked between your bodies at what he could see, watching himself fill your hole. It was obvious you were fucking a former pro-athlete. He could fuck you for hours if he wanted to with the amount of stamina he had, regardless of his age. It was fucking hot, how much, and how long, he could fuck you.

You could feel your orgasm increasing the more he penetrated you, the more he pulled his cock nearly out of you and forcing it back inside you, sending jolts through your body. You were already overstimulated enough from just slower sex, him fucking you like a bunny was almost too much for you to take. Not like that was a bad thing though.

"Come on." You talk to him, watching between the two of you, too. "Make me cum, baby. I wanna finish with you, Art. Please, baby. Fuck me so good."

He nods, his body rocking against yours, your legs moving up to wrap around his hips, keeping him closer, and more inside you. You wanted him to fill all of you, not missing a drop of his cum. You wanted him to make you ache when you woke up tomorrow morning.

"Fuck." He groaned, moaning into your mouth as he kissed you, his tongue sliding against yours as he came inside you.

You felt your body jolt, finishing at the same time, as he filled your pussy up. It felt so good to be on the same level, the same energy, as him. So fucking good.

He gave it a few seconds before he pulled out of you, sitting back up, making sure he fucked your right. He rolled to the side before he pulled you closer to him, his hand running through your frizzy hair, kissing the side of your forehead.

You smirked, looking up to him, a small laugh leaving your lips. "What? You can't be shocked, we've had sex so many times I can't even count it at this point."

"I'm not shocked." Art laughed, playing with your hair as he looked up to the ceiling. "It just feels so different with you. You know how much I like you, [Y/N]. Just feels good is all."

"Hm." You watch him look up. You wanted to bring something else up, more emotional topics, but, as much as you knew he did fancy you, you didn't want to fuck up the moment. "Feels good to me, too." Is all you say in return.

Art looks down at you after a moment. "Yeah?" He grins, moving closer to you as he kisses your lips. "Good."

"Yeah." You return his kiss, slightly leaning up as you look to the door. "You wanna eat now? Got your energy out?"

Art shrugs, sitting up. He pecks your bare shoulder. "Maybe not. Maybe can let the rest of it out later."

"God, you're hornier than me." You scoff, pushing him off with a red face, laughing to yourself at the man before you. "Let's eat. I'm starving."

"Whatever you say." He smirks, clearly teasing you, before stepping out of the bed, grabbing his clothes and tossing yours to you.

And that was what was odd about you and Art. It was casual, but not in a hookup sense. Casual in the way that you could sit down and eat with him, make a meal with him, watch shows and movies together, like a normal couple. It drove you insane sometimes. He felt the same way, but how the hell could he tell you that, when he could never actually be with you? He'd have to mask it some type of way, and usually that was through sex. Not like he didn't enjoy it solely for sexual reasons, because, god, he enjoyed fucking you, but he also enjoyed you.

He watched you finish your plate as you sat on the sofa together. You were gorgeous, the perfect picture of the woman he'd want to be with for more than just this. But that was something you'd have to figure out later.

#challengers #art donaldson #art donalson x reader #challengers 2024 #challengers movie #smut writing #x reader #x yn #fanfiction #fanfic #tashi duncan #mike faist #tashi donaldson #patrick zweig #challengers fic #challengers smut #challengers x reader

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ew-selfish-art · 2 years ago

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Dp x dc AU - If the Internation Space Station orbits the Earth 16 times a day, then so does the Watchtower.

Danny’s on track to move out of his parent’s house and move to Gotham for college (He swears that Sam bribed the board to let him in- and she wasn’t even going to that university!) but the dorms don’t open for another three days and he cannot wait to escape. Seeing his parents try to perfect yet another weapon to use against him while he changed out the ecto filters on the portal was too much. He’s completely over the idea of staying when he already has everything packed and ready to go.

The solution? Take all his boxes into his haunt in the Ghost Zone, leave them there and then spend some time in camping in space. He’s already explored the Infinite Realms enough to be bored of it for a minute (not to mention he wants to avoid getting more ‘favors’ to do from Clockwork) and hell, he just wants to see some stars.

He grabs his tent, a sleeping bag and all the food and things he could need and brings it into the atmosphere with him. Keeping it all tethered to him, Danny stays in a fixed position above Gotham (Cause that’s where he’s going next, duh) and treats himself to some quality Me-time.

Only problem is that several times a day he has to make himself intangible while he lets satellites and things pass through. Easy enough and honestly pretty interesting to observe as a wannabe engineering student.

He doesn’t know when exactly it happened the first time- but it turns out the Heroes of Earth all congregated in a satelite office building? It was bigger than the ISS! What the heck!?

Going intangible but not invisible, the JL spot Danny and are incredibly confused how an ‘Alien’ teen just happens to appear in their meeting rooms disappearing at the rate (slowly but surely) of the Watchtower moving through space. Was that camping gear? How was he roasting a marshmallow? Did propane camping stoves even work in space??

16 times a day they get the opportunity to ask Danny a few questions. He mostly ignores them or gives them joke answers. Eventually Martian Manhunter phases through the Watchtower to join him.

They talk about how hard transition periods in life can be and having strained relationships with family. J’ohn returns to the watchtower on its next cycle and reports that the kid is just fine, being an adult is just a hard thing to do.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #Danny Phantom #justice league #watchtower #dc #dc crossover #dc universe #martian manhunter #so much potential for him to haunt them but tbh he just wants to keep looking at the stars #dont ask me how his camping stove works in the vaccum of space google was unhelpful and i failed physics 2 #well i mean i passed it eventually but i failed it the first time #thats the energy im bringing and the energy i feel like vibes with danny #the iss moves around earth 16 times a day tho and i think thats neat #martian manhunter is like dude earth relationships are legit so hard and im not just saying that as a refugee #id also like to think that miss martian eventually joins them and danny gets invited to join the YJ

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4norizz · 2 months ago

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Were you Listening?

Summary— Toto notices his student starts slacking off and decides private tutoring is the best approach

Warnings— she sits on his lap ; mentions of reader being horny ; teasing ; no smut sadly :/ ; allusions to smut though

A/N— enjoy!

Masterlist

Dividers @bernardsbendystraws @dollywons

Request— toto wolff is a professor at a university, he was teaching maths. he has this one student who kept on slacking off in his class. he doesn't know the reason why she was doing that. so he got sick of this disrespect and asked the student/reader to meet him in his office for a punishment. but toto doesn't know that she was only slacking off because she wanted to get his attention.

College was easy, well easy when your professor in his fifties is fucking hot. Toto Wolff was part of some racing team, but died down his presence to do what he really wanted: teaching maths. He still has some part in racing, but not too prominent.

The only reason she was able to pass his class was because of his looks. She was enthralled by what he was saying and it stuck, her brain remembering the way his lips moved and his hands gestured towards the board.

Recently her grades started going downhill in his class and she didn’t know that he would address that, not to mention the disrespect she had been giving or the dozing off she would do in his classes now.

He went on about his lesson and when the class filed out he pointed to her and made a come here motion with his hand. The other students left, just her and her professor alone. “What’s with your grades dropping darling?” He asked. She huffed out a breath and relaxed her shoulders.

She looked around to avoid eye contact and smirked at the response she thought of. “Well the lectures aren’t as good as they used to be and I just can’t concentrate.” She practically whined to him. “I do apologize for sleeping in your class sometimes, but you’re overworking me.”

Toto nodded at her excuses, because that’s all they were, excuses. “I can tutor you if you’d like, but you need to get your grades up and listen to my lectures.” He offered. Her face lit up at the idea and she agreed that tutoring would help her out.

The first few sessions were quite mediocre and standard teacher and student. When Toto started noticing she wasn’t paying attention or doodling on the notes, he slammed a book on her desk, making her jump and look at him through her eyelashes.

“Are you listening?” He questioned. She nodded and gulped. She couldn’t help being turned on by the older man. “If you aren’t listening I’ll have to find another way to teach you.” He tilted his head with the serious tone he had used on her.

“Yes, sir.” She squeaked. She put her hands in her lap and focused on the board he was so diligently writing notes on for some math lesson. She took in the information and passed the next exam with flying colors.

However, he could not get her to pay attention during this one lesson. He could slam a book as many times as he wanted, she wouldn’t listen nor keep focused on him. Finally he resorted to physical touch. He placed his hand on her chin and forced her to look at him. “Is this a problem subject darling?”

Her face went pink and she gulped. She weakly nodded at him and he let her chin go, turning her notes toward him. She rubbed her thighs together at the proximity. “I just don’t understand it.” She said quietly as he admired her doodles and mindless writing. She was enjoying the attention.

He sighed and pointed to the board. “New page, write that down.” He demanded. She nodded and listened. He watched as she did so, sharing a glance every now and then. “Now. I want you to read off your notes, and explain what I said about it.” He began erasing the chalk from the board and she started citing math rules.

She only read the notes and he stood with his arms crossed waiting on the elaboration he had provided outside of writing. She didn’t remember any of what he said so she stayed quiet. “I wasn’t listening..” She admitted, her face tinged pink still.

He chuckled and she crossed a leg over the other, starting to feel her arousal seep through her underwear as he chuckled. “That’s it for today then, tomorrow I’ll have a different way to get you to remember, okay darling?” He said. With that she left the classroom quickly.

The next tutoring session was nothing of the sort of the usual teacher-student interaction. She noticed how he locked the door. Her breath caught and she snapped her head between the lock and his face. “You never lock the door.” She mentioned.

“I told you I have other ways of motivation for today.” He reminded her. He sat in his chair and pat his lap. She hesitated but sat there anyway. He had notes written in beautiful script on his desk. “If you’re good maybe I’ll reward you.” He whispered.

She squeaked and he began the math lesson. She listened hard and carefully. Once he was done she was able to recite Every Single Word He said. “Did I miss anything?” She asked innocently. Her mind was racing after repeating the math notes.

She was sure that even though she recited it, she’s going to fail the exam remembering how she learned the information. His hands found their way to her thighs. He lightly caressed them and she tilted her head back with a sigh. “Now, pass the exam and I’ll give you a real reward hm?”

She nodded, all words dying on her tongue at the sensations she was feeling. His hands lightly scratching her soft, delicate skin. She shivered at the feeling and then he tapped her, as to say ‘lesson done’ and she stood up. She almost tripped on the way out the door and he smirked from his desk.

Sure enough, she passed the exam with 10 bonus points for a detailed study guide. She smiled big and made her way to Professor Wolff’s office. She knocked and he called out. She opened the door and he smiled up at her, placing his pen neatly in a cup. “You did a good job darling.” He praised.

Her grades began improving and as a reward he would provide her with time outside of the school, small ‘get togethers’ or ‘dates,’ but all they would do is flirt and talk. Toto Wolff was not going to be fired over a student-teacher relationship, but he sure as hell wants to be with her.

I nearly made this smut but I decided against it, I couldn’t think of anything good 😭

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #formula one #formula 1 fic #formula one fic #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #toto wolff #toto wolff fanfic #toto wolff fluff #team principal x reader #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff x you #4norizz one shots

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wlwloverwrites · 3 months ago

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thinking about college classmate!kate bishop rn…

warnings: only fans reader, masturbation, smut (18+)

more specifically, her being the hottest and smartest girl in your college math class.

it’s a little crush. at least it was small in the beginning of the quarter. but oh my did that small crush grow.

this meant no more skipping lectures, no more rolling out of bed - instead you had to actually put effort into what you looked like before stepping out. this meant your eyes strayed from the white board and onto the woman sitting a few chairs in front of you. this meant your attention was no longer on your professor, no, your attention was on the girl that had no problem correcting every cocky classmate that thought they always had the correct answer.

with your attention on the pretty girl in class, it made perfect sense as to why your grade in the class reflected it.

you were stumped when you got your first midterm grade.

it wasn’t the absolute worst in the class, but it was way below average. you knew you had to fix it and there was only one way…. a private tutor.

ignoring the butterflies in your stomach and your sweaty palms, you chase after kate the second class is dismissed.

“kate!”

you watch as she turns at the sound of your voice. bodies squeeze past you as they rush to get to their class, the ones that push race to see who is the quickest to get in their twin-sized beds.

“oh hey, what’s up?”

she speaks as if you’re life long friends when in reality, you only spoke to her once.

“i was wondering if you,” you pause breathing in a shaky breath, “if you’d be willing to tutor me.”

you eyes stare to hers. you swear you see a flash of disappointment hit her eyes so you’re quick to suggest, “i’d pay of course! i just - well i didn’t get the best grade in our last midterm. i know there’s two grading schemes so i was thinking that if i has you as my tutor i wou-”

“i’ll do it.”

“really?”

“yeah, it’s no big deal,” she shrugs, her eyes masking the disappointment the second compensation was mentioned.

the two of your exchange numbers and set date. the two of your settle on your room, with your roommate staying over at her boyfriend’s apartment the two of you can study there.

with your private college only covering half your tuition and even less from your housing, you settled on selling your body to avoid student loans paired with years of debt. it wasn’t an easy choice, but it worked.

when your pockets were empty or you had a large sum in your student account it had become second nature to turn on your camera.

it had become second nature to watch as the light blinked red and watched as money poured into your account in a postorgasmic state.

unfortunately that second nature could no longer happen. after a few too many orgasms, your legs were a little too shaky and your hands were weak and couldn’t catch the kicked camera. you moaned as you reached your last orgasm and cried when you saw your trusty camera, in pieces, on the floor.

the income stopped coming in. luckily you weren’t due for another school bill, but kate’s compensation was going to cost you.

so that’s how you find yourself sitting at your desk, your phone in a makeshift tripod in front of you capturing the way your fingers slip past your lace panties and rub your sensitive clit.

the door is locked but you know there will be a knock soon.

so you drop your head back, keep your moans quiet and rub harsh circles on your clit. the pleasure is borderline painful as you reach a quick but small orgasm. putting on a show for the camera, whine and cry, land soft smacks on your sensitive clit and twitch at the contact.

in a rush, you stop recording, clean up and post the video. like a reflex, the money comes pouring in.

with only seconds to spare theres a knock on your door. the knock stutters as the woman behind it gets a notification on her phone, her favorite only fans content creator just posted and a video attachment sent from your saved phone number.

the thumbnails are identical.

before kate has a moment to process the information you open your door and almost immediately she recognizes the layout.

#char: kate bishop #type: smut #kate bishop #kate bishop x reader #kate bishop x reader smut #kate bishop smut #hawkeye

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crsssie · 5 months ago

Text

pretty blonde curls

word count: 11.6k || College Frat AU || banner by @temmmry

warnings: mentions of sexual assault (not from reader or curly), depictions of violence (reader beats jimmy up), smut (2 scenes)

summary: "Me or him, Grant?"

Curly would say it takes quite a bit for it to get through his head that someone likes him.

He recalls an early moment in college when he had only been part of the frat, four drinks in before he had been raising a brow at one of the girls who had detached from Jimmy and found him, her frustration evident when she had whined that she was trying to ask him out — only to be met with a quiet "oh" from him and an apologetic shake of his head.

He's not stupid when someone's trying to sleep with him, though. Playing stupid when someone wants to hook up with him is always easier than saying no. It's the same as dressing baggy on campus to avoid attention.

"Too attractive," Jimmy tells him.

Curly doesn't see it, remnants of his health problems evident on the stretch marks on his shoulders, insecurity creeping down his sides and across his stomach onto his thighs — but it's all easy to hide. It makes him less scary to approach when he's on the board by his second and third year of the frat. He had been tugged along by Jimmy — which he's thankful for, really. But Jimmy complains about how much easier it seems for Curly to move up the ranks when he brings a different chick home every other day.

So, when the discussions for the next president creep out, it comes to no one's surprise that Curly is president, but everyone's shocked that Jimmy's the VP.

It's easy for Curly to be elected as the face of the frat, clean record, and everyone's favorite from none else but hard work. His professors appreciate his sincerity, and he had been in contact with many of the executives of the school since he was elected as VP. It's easy for it to be him simply because everyone knows he's reliable enough for it — and he knows when to stop. A clean slate — impossible to break and crumble down the name he has built. False accusations of sexual assault never lasted long. Curly was simply too clean for it.

It was almost always Jimmy's fault when it came to it.

But some people steer clear of the frat and its members in general, and while Curly has been dense when people liked him, he understood. Someone who refuses all advances and plays stupid the same way he does at the parties is agitating. He can't complain but, really, he wishes he'd be at least given a chance.

"Not with you alone, no." You click through your schedule. "I told you, Grant. I don't want... you know."

"He won't—"

"It never ends well. You know the rumors spreading about your vice president. You've not got bloodless hands just because it wasn't you, you know? A friend who does nothing to help is just as guilty." You slide your books into your bag, looking around.

"Not under the law—"

"Maybe." You wave bye to him after class, calling at your friends who have come to pick you up.

Curly understands your hesitation. You don't dislike him — visible from the way you're still friends with him, but you refuse to go out with him to hang out or anything else similar unless he could guarantee you wouldn't bump into any of his brothers. You refuse to be out with him even if all of the professors like him because it'd be terrifying to put yourself at risk of being so close to someone on campus who was known to be a sleaze. The election of Jimmy into the frat board threw you off more when he had called you one night.

You'd built more distance when you had found out.

You know he's not the same, but you didn't ever want to be on Jimmy's radar, and Curly had done a good job not showing you at all to anyone he knew so far, and you only prayed it would continue like that.

Curly understands what you mean. His hands aren't bloodless. Jimmy's smeared blood onto his palms and he's washed it off more times than necessary — dried skin from the bleaching far too many times. He can't count how many times he's had to step in and tell Jimmy that taking home the plastered girl from the party wasn't a smart idea and how people had to get checked for drugs because while getting high would be pleasant, someone coming for the frat because one of the members had slipped in a date rape drug to assault someone would not. He's stern about that, and not even Jimmy is allowed any wiggle room.

But it doesn't matter how much he does to make sure that the parties thrown are safe for all. You still refuse to associate with him too much.

At least the frat's name is growing thanks to his effort.

"Presentation night in three weeks." He mumbles to himself as he texts the board groupchat, fingers quick on his phone as he dabs at the sweat on his forehead with the towel.

"Oh, look who it is." You hum, head tilted as you start the treadmill next to him. "Presentation night? What are you presenting on?"

He beams at the sight of you. "Every single time I've had a complaint from the school addressed to me about the club since the start of the school year. Surprised to see you here. Thought you didn't like hanging with me in public."

"Jimmy's in class." You stretch your arms above your head, humming. "Just gotta make sure I don't bump into him."

"Yeah, he is— how'd you know?"

"A friend shares a class with him." You hit the treadmill twice, speeding up. "Warming up or cooling down?"

"Cooling down." Curly hums. "It's getting dark. I could walk you—"

"It's alright. Anya's class just ended." You wave at him dismissively. "See you in class tomorrow."

"See you."

You don't share a major with Curly. You had one class first semester of freshman together and then exchanged numbers — Curly had looked quite nerdy at the time, tall but lack of muscle evident on his face, and over the 15 weeks of instruction, he had lost the majority of his weight after you had told him you'd be down to be gym buddies with him. By spring, he had joined one of the frats and met Jimmy, and the two had stuck close since.

Gym with you is rarer these days, but still.

He claims you helped a lot early on, completely relaxed when you had mentioned casually that you'd be checking out the gym and were scared to do it alone — and the rest was history. He bulked up much faster than you reached your goal, and by the time that the semester came to an end, you couldn't count on two hands how many people had oogled at Curly when he passed them. You couldn't blame them. His biceps were museum-worthy.

The streaks of white on his back and shoulders that you caught wind of when he walked around in made him insecure. You'd caught it once when his shirt soaked through, and he had thrown his hoodie on almost immediately after. The stretch marks on his skin are oftentimes attributed to his height and muscle — never to his past.

He stares at himself in the mirror longer on some days, your voice in his ear as the two of you call. You do care, Curly knows. You just find Jimmy a bitch and hate him with a passion reserved for no one else.

"It'll be hot tomorrow." You hum. "You gonna go around in a long sleeve again?"

"Might wear a t-shirt." He glances at his back as he flexes, staring at the lines on his back.

"Won't you wear a tank so I can drool over those arms?"

"You and your obsession with muscles."

"Hey, it's not horrible."

"Says the one who took a whole digicam photo of my biceps back in year two."

"Hey."

"I'll tell you. You down to study on Saturday?"

"As long as you drive."

"You wouldn't go if I didn't."

"Maybe." You mumble. "Keep Jimmy away."

"And if he wants to come?"

"Tell him to kill himself."

"I can't do that, sweetheart."

"Sure you can, big guy."

Curly likes you. He thinks it's painfully obvious. His brothers in the frat find it painfully obvious. When he smiles at his phone there's an 11/10 chance that you're texting him, and it's much easier to ask him a question and get away with things when he's on call with you because he's barely listening to their question and wants them away from his door as soon as possible so he can continue to talk to you.

It's just a matter of fact that no one knows quite what you look like or what you sound like.

Curly keeps you in his ear at all times, and you never videocall him.

And if some of the frat brothers try to follow him to a coffee shop, Curly's got the sixth sense of a hawk and everyone's location, so as long as one person's by him, he refuses to let you out of the car, even if it means he goes in to grab your orders and you both sit on the car to study. Refuses to let you out or you refuse to get out. The frat just assumes that it's the former, so they stop trying to follow him out to the study sessions.

"They're not here." Curly offers you his hand, and you hum.

"Thank you, Grant."

"Of course."

"Is there a reason why they call you Curly?"

"Don't you think my last name sounds like my first?"

"Hm... I could see Grant as a last name, yeah." You pause. "You got a preference?"

"You get to use Grant 'cause you don't need t' treat me like a president."

"I suppose so. The professors like your last name better, too."

"I suppose." He lets you order first, glancing up at the menu as you finish grabbing your usual.

He thinks it's unsurprising that he likes you this much. You're easy to like and easy to take care of. The fact that you haven't left him despite his best friend's awful reputation was probably an act of mercy in itself. You never fail to remind him that he's part of the problem, though. Really. Truly. You're very much aware that Curly is constantly on thin ice when it comes to Jimmy, and there are lines that you draw to make sure that Curly can never quite get as close as he'd like to.

You refuse to let him do anything that would give anyone the wrong idea, and the furthest that Curly has managed to push you was the study sessions that you only allow on weekends and only go with him after he makes sure no one follows him out.

You refuse to be made public with him.

And it's not that you worry about your reputation or that you don't seem to like Curly — it's really as simple as how much you despise his best friend. Curly seems to have caught on early, never pushing much further than what you allow him. He lets you initiate everything so that you feel like you have more control. He understands how awful it can get when you feel as though you have no control over anything.

He knows what it feels like to have none.

So you're allowed to boss him around, he really doesn't mind it, and dare he say it, it's almost nice. It makes him feel all warm and domestic when you do. Sometimes you bring him back to your apartment when your housemate isn't home and study there, and he likes it. He likes the way you kick him under the dinner table as you swing your legs to focus. You prefer it to tapping your pen, but you also have the habit of biting the back of your pens and darting your tongue out to lick your bottom lip when it gets dry, and Curly can't help but notice the way your lips glisten with your saliva and wonder what it'd look like wrapped around his— not that he would ever actually do anything about it! The most he'll do is adjust the strain in his pants and let out a sigh.

Someone save him.

He likes you, painfully, though. His heart races when he sees you pass him and he thinks he lights up like the sun when you wave back. It's a little bit concerning. Maybe that's why he insists on studying with you despite the fact that your schedules barely match up and why he slots out his Saturday brunches to hang out with you to study and grab brunch because you never seem to have breakfast. He wonders if you do it on purpose or if you just have the worst eating habits on earth.

You don't let him pay even when he insists.

You draw a line between the two of you that gets painfully clearer and clearer to Curly, and he wonders if he's just somehow really into someone who could lowkey crush his heart if given the chance. He gets it to some extent. You don't like his friends, so by proxy you wouldn't be able to last with him anyway if the two of you could start dating. No. Not friends. Just Jimmy. You despise his best friend, and it's almost as if you're just waiting for him to slip up.

But you let Curly get away with more and more as the semester progresses. You bring him home once without checking if your roommates are there, and you blink as Anya stares back at you, waving slowly at Curly as he nods. Another time you pass a couple of his brothers while passing by the frat, and Curly has to cover up and tell them that he was just walking a classmate because it was late. It wasn't out of character for him to play it off as that. Most of his frat understands to respect his private life. After all, despite how reliable Curly was, most of the frat still didn't like burderning him all that much. It was easier to let things be and stay out of trouble.

Not that Curly gets any less complaints from faculty.

Jimmy's failing this class, this other brother is, and another, and another... Curly finds that it's quite annoying, and soon, he calls for the club to start hosting study sessions so that at least the professors wouldn't be complaining about how the frat life was getting in the way. He suspends nonessential parties for the time being and texts you that Saturdays aren't free anymore, and you laugh.

"They're grown ass men and can't study on their own?"

"Happens to everyone." Curly mumbles, glancing at the study group. "We're in this together."

"Anyone got their girlfriend over?"

"You... miss me?"

"Miss your muscles, gorgeous." You laugh from the other side, voice cutting off as you mute yourself.

Curly shakes his head, glancing at the guys in the room.

"You wanna come over?"

"Is Jimmy there?"

"Yeah."

"Then no."

"I still don't get your problem with him."

"Maybe you'd have to be a woman to find out." You hum. "If you wanna come over just let me know."

"You don't mind your roommates knowing?"

"Everyone's out for the weekend."

"Ah. I'll text you."

"Alright. See you around, big boy."

"See you around, sweetheart."

Curly doesn't think about Jimmy much. He's as much of a friend and maybe even more since he had introduced him to the frat, and although Jimmy's got a questionable reputation, Curly chooses to trust his friend. Jimmy isn't horrific in his eyes. He's just a guy who might come off as a sleaze, and maybe he's definitely questionable because of how seemingly little he cares for women, and maybe he's just... yeah, maybe Curly isn't understanding because Jimmy could never treat him the same way he treats the girls at the parties. Though, it doesn't take a genius to figure out that Jimmy barely cares.

"Hey." Curly grabs a guy's shoulder, and the poor girl scurries off into the crowd of the party.

"Curly. Really?" He groans.

"No fucking the girls who look like they're terrified."

"So I can fuck someone who isn't?"

"Don't go harassing them."

Curly gives the guy two pats on the shoulder as he spots you at the door, grinning at one of the other guys.

"Oh, really?" You tilt your head. "Didn't realize the place was so big."

"I love it." The guy laughs, raising a brow as Curly steps over. "Curly."

Curly tilts his head at you, and you tilt your head to the side.

"Our president. Curly."

"Grant's fine." He holds his hand out for yours, and you take it, nodding as you shake on it. "New here?"

"Got invited by this nerd."

"ey."

"Affectionately, of course." You hum, patting the guy on the chest twice.

"I'll take her from here."

"Of course, prez."

Once you're far away enough, you meet eyes with Curly and laugh.

"You drink yet?"

"Wanted to experience one sober." You press against Curly as someone squeezes past you.

"Sober makes it boring, sweetheart."

"Well I can see someone certainly has gotten a drink or two in his system." You pinch at his cheek, and he brushes noses with you.

"Maybe."

"Where's my charming gym buddy?"

"Still here, sweets." He hums.

"Maybe." You push yourself off of him, glancing at the rest of the crowd. "Smells awful in here."

"It's why I don't invite you. Outside of you not caring, of course." He fistbumps a guy that passes, flicking his chin at him as you stare.

"You look real good, Grant." You tap his chest, humming as you glance in the corner of your eye.

"Why are you here? You hate being here because of..."

"Heard he'll be late. Wanted to come see you." You brush your nose up his jaw, and his eyes flutter as he hums.

"This is nice."

"Of course." Your palm finds his chest, and you hum quietly. "I'll head out in a bit. Just wanted to come say hi."

"Not staying?"

"Not for too long. Heard Jimmy would be late. Not gone." You tap his chest gently, and he presses his forehead to yours. He opens his phone and looks for Jimmy's location, humming as he buries his face in your neck.

"See you around?"

"My place tomorrow? Heard there was no study sesh tomorrow."

"Eleven?"

"Mhm."

"See you." He sends you off with a quick nod, and you're off past the door.

It's a quick call. He would have liked for you to stay longer, but Jimmy walks in five minutes after you're gone, and it's back to being friends with Jimmy.

It's a constant dichotomy - the difference between being friends with you and with Jimmy. You're so tame even when you kick him under the table, and you're in little to no trouble. Jimmy gets allegations every now and then at the parties, and Curly is always stuck cleaning up after him. Sweep them under the rug. It's fine. It wasn't anything — alright, maybe he's starting to get your point. He doubts he'd want to hang around Jimmy if he was a girl, but he isn't, so he gets a little leeway, maybe.

He doesn't even notice that you've settled between his legs on the floor, and he blinks down at you as you bare your teeth and smile at him.

"Hey."

"Hey." He swallows. "Something wrong? Dropped something?"

Your palm makes contact with his inner thigh, pushing them out as you prop your elbows to free your hands to work at his belt.

"Hey, sweetheart, hey—"

"Quiet." You mumble, poking at his dick through his boxers as you pull at the waistband, and Curly panics. No way you're doing this. You barely even like it when he holds open doors for you and offers to walk you home. You're definitely drunk or maybe you got your hands on some drugs or whatever because surely you're not—

You're taking him.

You're sucking him.

He blinks owlishly at you, your lips parted and skin glistening under him, lashes fluttering as you wrap a hand around his base, and he thinks he's going to pass out. Your mouth is painfully warm, and he reaches his fingers to thread through your hair, head thrown back in bliss as he—

His alarm rings, and Curly heaves, hand over his chest as heart threatens to break past his ribcage. God, fucking hell. He needs to fix his mind before you turn around and leave him for good for even thinking about you like that.

He'd argue that you probably know from the way you raise a brow at him on occasion, but better safe than sorry.

You're knocked out on the coffee table, eyes closed as you sit across him, and Curly adjusts the strain in his pants. It'd be rude to rub one out in your bathroom, but it'd also be uncomfortable for him to just let it sit there. He taps his fingers on the table as he stares at the drool that slides past your lips, humming to himself as you mumble to yourself.

He reaches to brush the hair out of your face, and your lashes flutter awake.

"Was I drooling?"

"Yeah."

"Sorry." You mumble.

"I should be sorry." He swallows. "You too tired for this?"

"Not too tired. Just tired." You mumble, yawning as you smush your cheek against the glass and blink at Curly. "You've got blonde lashes."

"Sure do." He stares back down at you, shifting his legs again.

"Do I gotta make a joke about how you're hard or are you just restless today?" You look away, staring at the blank screen across from you.

"Restless." He mumbles. He's sure the red on his ears is giving him away.

"Well, at least the GE will be out of the way." You kick at his leg from under the table, and you click your pen twice. "Don't got all day, big boy. Still have gym later."

"Yeah." He mumbles.

He doesn't see you for a while after that.

You go and flounce around and hole up in your room afterward, and Curly busies himself with the things of the frat and preparations for the pre-finals week party. It's never a smart choice but most people are going to find a party to go to anyway, so he might as well host one. Reputation has to be upheld anyway.

He texts the groupchat and everyone gets the drinks, and Curly checks the whole house for hard drugs, raising a brow at one of the younger boys who pulls out a sheet of LSD. It's shoved in the vault for safekeeping, and Curly assures him he'll get it back after the party when everyone sobers up.

Then people are invited and the house fills right up. Curly leans against the wall, just enough alcohol in his system to be warm, but not enough to cloud judgement — at least not according to himself. He glances around at the party, nodding at people he knows, chatting idylly with people he recognizes, the music and yelling making it hard to hear. Curly learns to read lips, and he sends almost everyone off with a quick flick of his fingers.

It should be fine. It's usually fine. It's the biggest party of the year that he had the trouble of going through planning in his third year, but this year is a lot more relaxed now that he isn't struggling to count club funds. Treasurer was not a fun position if you didn't like it all that much. At least he isn't going through it again. Also, the alcohol makes it hard for him to really keep to his weight. Too much sugar. Not good for his health or—

"Grant!" You call, squeezing past a couple making out as you tug on his collar and have him bend down for you, lips brushing his jaw as you grin. "There you are. Brooding all by yourself, handsome?"

"Sweetheart." He hums, hand finding your cheek as he squeezes gently. "What brings you here?"

"Boredom. Also alcohol."

"Didn't want'a get drunk at your apartment?"

"So much more fun when there's a man around."

"And Jimmy?"

"Heard he isn't coming tonight."

"You seem to know whenever he isn't coming." Curly brushes his nose against yours, and you hum.

"Don't want to catch his eye."

"You're already catchin' everyone's by bein' here." He eyes one of his brothers that stares, the poor guy looking to the side at Curly's glance.

"I think it's cuz their precious president is all up on some girl they've never met." You whisper, pinching his cheek as he leans back up. "Hm?"

"Well, not that they haven't met you."

"People are nosy." You glance to the side, winking at one of the girls that pass.

"How much d'you drink?"

"Pregamed at home. Three shots? Horrible for my sugar intake, though." You mumble, hand resting on Curly's chest as he pulls you in by the waist.

"Makes two of us." He mumbles, hand finding your forearm as he rubs. "You stayin' the whole time?"

"When's it end?"

"1:30 we start yellin'"

"Then until y'all clean up." You hum. "Not completely drunk."

"Can tell."

That's the fun thing with you, though. Your alcohol tolerance runs the same as Curly, so he finds that it's a lot easier to know when you'll knock out in his arms. It's not the first party you've been to. You joined once back in freshman when Curly first joined, and you had met Jimmy — and immediately decided that it was not worth it. You patted Curly twice on the chest and left that night, and never came back. It was surprising that you'd show to a party in year four of all times. He's not complaining, though. Always nice to see your pretty face.

Curly keeps an eye on Jimmy's location when you're around just because he'd hate to see you actually meet the guy. Met him once years ago and decided to stay as far away as you could.

"Don't get why you can't just drop him."

"Maybe after college." He mumbles. "He's our VP."

"Would you kick him if an allegation was serious enough?"

"How serious?"

"Expulsion serious."

"I'd have to. Otherwise I'd go down with or without him."

You brush your nose against his jaw, humming quietly as your chest vibrates against his.

"Good to know."

"Don't be going getting yourself assaulted. Won't let that happen to you." He mumbles.

"Me or him, Grant?"

"Don't do that to me." He groans, watching as you bat your lashes at him. "You're both important."

"Don't go testing me, blondie." You hum.

Curly glances at his phone, sighing as he rests his forehead on yours. "Jimmy's headed our way."

"Thought he left."

"Texted an hour ago sayin' he'd be back." He mumbles. "Wan' sit in my room, sweetheart?"

"You know the rules. He's here? I'm off." You whisper, closing your eyes as his lashes brush your skin.

"See you after finals?"

"Text me before you go?"

"Of course."

You hang out with Curly in between semesters during breaks. When he's free from the frat for the most part and planning things, he finds himself in coffee shops with you to catch up on gossip of all things. You ramble about tea you hear while working for your professor, and it makes Curly see a whole new side of some of the people on campus. It's like you have eyes and ears everywhere since you're helping the professors out.

"And then she ended up taking a break." You tap the keyboard, humming. "She'll be back next year, but we'll be gone by then, so, you know."

"Because the dude knocked her up?"

"I'm surprised she chose to keep it, but I mean, if she wants it, then so be it." You press the straw to your lips, humming to yourself. "Lovely tea place. How'd you find it?"

"One of the guys' girlfriend. Told me this place has great tea." He hums. "Not overbrewed at all, huh?"

"Nice and aromatic." You kick your legs under the table. "How've you been? Survived finals?"

"Yeah. The usual."

"How dependable."

"Yeah?"

"Shame no one knows how you really are." You hum. "Quite charming, nonetheless."

"You're speaking in book again."

"Alright, Grant. Sorry I wanted to be poetic for a sec. My condolences for my use of language."

"Now you sound even worse."

You click your tongue at him. "I like you this way."

"Rude?"

"Honest." You hum. "You've always got that goody two shoes smile on your face when you're on campus. It's strange. I know you want to sink those hands into my neck and choke me out every now and then."

"In public is insane."

"Your fault for taking me here. I offered my apartment."

Curly raises a brow at you, and you hum. "Complexity builds character."

"My brothers beg to differ."

"Where's Jimmy, by the way? He's usually around during breaks."

"Decided to take a solo trip. Builds character, or something." Curly hums.

"We should do a road trip." You glance at your phone. "Go around the area. Find a national park and go camping."

"Aren't you gonna get cold?"

"We'll survive." You raise a brow at him. "We could huddle for warmth, even."

"You implying sex?"

"You pervert..." You gasp, holding a hand over your mouth. "No. I was implying cuddling, but considering that your brain went straight to the gutter, I vote no road trip."

"A day trip down south would be nice."

"We could go to the city."

"Oh, that too." You scroll on your phone. "Tomorrow?"

"How about the beach?"

You glance at Curly, and he laughs.

"Please?"

"I hate you, Grant."

"Love to see you with your tits out."

"Oh, god. Fratboys."

But the truth is that Curly knows exactly what's going on at all times. You admit he's part of the problem. You keep him around because he's fun to be around. Down to do most things. Not a horrible person — a person. Not morally good or bad. There exists no pure saint or pure sinner. Anyone who presents that way is suspicious enough to warrant questions. You keep Curly around because he's not a horrible person. Only issue is with his best friend.

He's sure you'd try to cling onto your best friend if it was all allegations and no charges too, but you can't afford the same for Jimmy. The gender difference and lack of security you felt whenever he was around was more than enough to scramble any sense of security you felt with Curly. He understands that.

He wonder if it's the lesser of two evils — friends with a liar or abuser?

You'd choose a liar, but he supposes for himself it's one foot in both.

Well, not that you're the accuser.

Curly starts the new semester without you but makes time to study with you nonetheless, humming to himself as you invite him into the apartment, scrunching your nose when he smells of a workout and kick him out to come back another time. He complies, frowning at you when you shoot him an apologetic smile, and he nods. He understands. He has a persona to keep up around your roommates, and he also has an image to upkeep for the school, or whatever.

It makes him crack a little. Seep under the mask just a little. He doesn't know where the ego comes from, but he doesn't appreciate it.

He scrubs at it in the shower, and he reminds himself that it is not who he is.

He had to work to get where he was. He doesn't get to act like he's better than people.

"Ego is really only for... people who have nothing." You mumble, stirring your drink.

"Yeah? I mean sometimes I get egotistical, but I have to remind myself that I'm not who I am." You hum. "I worked to get here. Everyone works to be who they are. If they don't... then they aren't who they are."

"Now that's something new."

"I have never had an original thought in my life." You glance at the girls that step up to the table and go quiet.

Curly deals with them. He knows you can hold your ground, but they're not people you know, so they're not people you should have to deal with. He prefers to keep you away from them, even if they come knocking to the table the two of you have in the coffee shop. He's seen her at a party or two. Probably a second year looking to date a hot fratboy so she can say she dated one in college. Nothing Curly hasn't seen.

"Why are you here with her again? Curly, I really did expect you to be better at choosing... study dates." She eyes you, and Curly watches you smile.

Inhale, exhale, stare.

"If you wanted a date you could have just asked." You offer, voice light with mirth as she blinks at you.

"You! I'm not some cheap whore, you know?!"

"Didn't say that." You hum. "Unless you'd like to sit with us? Don't see a bookbag, though."

"In my car!"

"Want' come study with us? You can pull a chair—"

"Speaking of chairs. This one's uncomfortable. You mind if we switch spots?" Curly offers you a way out, and you hum.

"Where'd you have in mind?"

"I'm kind of hungry, so I vote the diner."

"Wanna camp there?"

"Too late to camp."

"Fair." You mumble. "We can figure it out when we get on your car."

"Come on." He offers you a hand, and while you raise a brow, you still take it, letting him squeeze your hands gently as he ushers you off.

"If that reaches Jimmy's ears I'm shooting him point blank."

"It won't. Jimmy wouldn't touch what's mine. He's not stupid."

"Sure feels like he is sometimes." You mumble. "What's yours? Am I yours, Grant?"

He squeezes your hand. "Are you not?"

"Oh, I wouldn't go there if I were you."

"And why not?"

"Cuz you're not getting anywhere close to me with that shitty best friend of yours."

Curly finds that maybe you really are just dangling him on a string. Swing him close on some days, swing him out on others. You cancel a study date for girls night with your housemate and Curly tells you to send photos (you never do). But it's fine because when you do finally meet up it's close enough to Valentine's that the coffee shops have all of the heart decorations up and Curly's got his hand over yours and he's asking you if you'd like to be his date to the party on Valentine's.

"I don't know, Curly." You mumble.

"Please? You mentioned your roommate would like to experience a full-fledged frat party at least once, so it'd be nice to bring her to our biggest one."

"I'd have to chaperone her."

"I'll keep an eye out for her." He mumbles, tapping the back of your hand.

"Will you?"

Curly does not.

The party rolls around and he keeps everything organized, searching everyone, and patting Jimmy down, going as far as raising a brow at his hat and swiping it off to shake a little. He lets Jimmy go with two pats to the back and then tosses everything into the safe, humming. He loses track of some things as people roll in, and he welcomes your housemate. He gets distracted with you, though, your lips brushing his under the lights as you tilt your head and ask him what's going on in his pretty head.

"Just you, sweetheart."

"Just me?"

"Just you." He sighs, resting his forehead on yours as you hum. "Does it always take a party to get you so vulnerable like this?"

"Maybe it's 'cause I'm your date tonight."

"Or maybe you're just irresistable in the awful frathouse lighting." He whispers, thumb finding your bottom lip as you part them for him. "Yeah?"

"Mhm." You hum. "You gon' kiss me, Grant?"

"God, sweetheart." He mumbles, lips brushing yours as you lean in, and he swears he's gonna get his fill of you until—

"Prez! Couple stumbled into a room."

"God, fucking hell." He groans, straightening up as he looks to the side. "Couldn't have picked a worse time."

"Sorry 'bout the cockblocking." The guy glances at Curly make his way up the stairs, and you shake your head.

You wonder where Anya's wandered off to.

Curly kicks the couple out, and he glances at Jimmy's locked door.

He knocks twice.

He thinks he hears a muffled cry when he knocks, but the music downstairs makes it hard to tell.

He knocks a third time.

It's silent.

A fourth.

Nothing.

Then, he heads downstairs.

Maybe you're still here— if you haven't stumbled off while half drunk, that is.

Curly never fully got the story from you afterward. You had stumbled home and found your housemate missing, calling Curly to check the house, and Curly had found your housemate in one of the spare bedrooms in the house, knocking and entering, letting you know where she was.

"You alright?"

Your housemate, closes her eyes, holding her head as he grumbles.

"My head feels like it's splitting open. I don't remember anything..." She mumbles.

"You alright?"

"Fine. Just sore all over." She mumbles.

"Want me to walk you back?"

Your housemate squints at Curly, and then checks her phone.

Curly assumes she dials you.

"Hey... yeah, just sore. Everything hurts. Is that supposed to happen? Curly's offering to walk me home. Should he— alright. Yeah. Yeah. I'll let him know. See you in a bit."

Curly tilts his head, and your housemate nods.

"Mind driving me instead? My legs really hurt."

"Of course. You need me to help you?"

"Should be... alright." She mumbles.

You thank Curly for taking her home, brows furrowed, giving him a pointed look that he seems to understand.

"I'm sorry for leaving you alone." You mumble, holding her forearms as you lead her in. "Thank you for driving her here, Grant."

"Anytime. You two stay safe."

You nod.

And then you go MIA.

You stop responding to his texts and calls, distance that he had tried closing in on back between the two of you seemingly gone overnight. You tell him weekends are off limits again, and you offer limited explanations for why. Maybe you're just busy. Or, you've finally become fed up with the fact that Curly can't really pick and choose and drop people that he should really drop. Either way, he doesn't really judge you for it.

He can kind of see it.

Yet, life moves on, and he busies himself with his own things.

Maybe time can heal this.

But he texts you updates — parties hosted by the frat, and you tell him you'll show to the next one.

He asks even if Jimmy's there — you tell him especially if Jimmy's there.

He doesn't really want to know why exactly you've gotten a specific change of mind, but he doesn't pry further. It's really not his place. Besides, he should be happy that you're agreeing to to his best friend of all things.

You show up different, though. Low cut dress and makeup done — Curly doubts he's ever seen you put so much effort into meeting up with him.

"New hair?" Curly pinches at the wig on your head, tilting his head and raising a brow.

"I'll talk to you in a bit, Grant." You hum, patting his chest twice and disappearing into the crowd. "Be good, now."

Curly nods, letting you wander off as he continues to greet guests at the door.

Most people don't cause too many problems. You learn to figure your way through the crowd, quiet sauntering as you spot Jimmy, smearing your lipstick as you tug your dress a little lower, reaching to trace your fingers down Jimmy's arms, distracting him immediately from the girl he was previously talking to.

You glance at the back door before batting your lashes at Jimmy.

"And who might you be, doll?"

"Just wanted your number." You hum, mustering a smile as he raises a brow.

"It's usually the other way around. Haven't heard the rumors?"

"Maybe I'm just into a good fuck, not a good man." You tap his bicep gently, and he hands you his phone.

"Do me a favor, would you? Save your number as doll in my contacts so I remember. Password's six sixes."

"Oh, of course." You hum, clicking on his phone as he goes back to chatting with the other girl, and you scroll through his photos. You send a handful to yourself, deleting the chat history, and check your phone for the photos. Close enough.

"You figure it out, doll? Or did you accidentally lose the page?"

"Seems like I did..." You mumble. "Sorry, not super good with electronics. Such a clutz move of me, huh?"

"I'll help ya, doll." He wraps a hand around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder as his hand brushes your lower stomach, free hand clicking through the apps on his phone. "There y'a go."

"Thank you." You jut out your bottom lip, clicking in a random phone number, Jimmy's hand sliding higher and higher until they practically grope at your tits, and you pause for a second.

Alright. Seems drunk enough.

And then all you see is red.

Jimmy's dragged by his hair as you throw him out the back door into the empty parking spot, your knuckles cracking with each punch as he fights back, the tip of your heel digging into his thigh as his screams catch the attention of the rest of the party. You don't know how many punches you've reached but it's five whole minutes where everyone is stuck watching in horror as you practically crush his jaw under your fist and Jimmy is stuck there crying. He's too drunk to know who you are, and you don't care if this gets you jailed, you're taking the chance.

The satisfying crunch of his jaw under your fists and the blooms of red on his face only feed into the satisfaction, and you wonder if he'll ever think of this when he drugs the next poor girl to approach him thinking that he's not as bad as the rumors make him out to be, and it gives you this sick sense of satisfaction. You can ice your knuckles and wear gloves because it's still cold enough for it. Jimmy can't hide from his classes forever, and it definitely helps that you've got a wonderfully glued wig on that you could just burn when you get home and no one would fucking know that you were laughing while beating the frat's vice president to the ground.

Your knuckles are bloody when you're halfway through, and there's a fight outside the party that Curly has to rip through the crowd to get to.

He's surprised to find that it's you, and he pulls you off of Jimmy before stepping to ask you what happened, and you pant, fistfuls of Jimmy's hair weaved through your fingers as your chest heaves, and there is so much red in your eyes that Curly wonders if you're seeing anything at all, and he runs his hands down your bare arms as you breathe.

Jimmy stays on the ground.

"Hey, what happened?"

"Asshole grabbed a fistful of my tits."

Jimmy scoffs from the ground. "You're the one who—"

You curse him out as your heel reaches to crush his balls, and Curly holds your thigh to stop you.

"Hey!"

You look up at Curly, eye twitching as you breathe, taking two steps back and glaring at Jimmy.

"Sweetheart." Curly tries, and you look up at him, eyes vile as you scoff.

"Watch your mouth, Grant." You point a finger at his chest, humming with your head tilted. "Don't you go thinking you're any better because you don't do it. You're still doing nothing about it."

And you're off, knuckles bloody and hair between your fingers.

You don't receive disciplinary action because half of the party was too plastered to remember who was fighting who. Besides, Jimmy didn't even remember who was punching him.

You don't look Curly in the eye for a week, and Curly wonders really if it was at all worth it. First week of spring of all days. He understands the party is for the sake of the brothers, but he really'd rather not be stuck cleaning up after Jimmy when they were barely into the semester. And a matter of assaulting you of all things.

He apologizes on Jimmy's behalf after class, and you blink at Curly.

"If you know he's doing all these things, why do you keep him in his position?"

"I've just know him for so long..."

"That's not an excuse, Grant." You spit.

It's dark out.

Curly knows it's not an excuse. He knows that he shouldn't be excusing Jimmy's behavior, and especially not when his best friend had just grabbed you by the tits at a party while drunk out of his mind. Drunk or not, he shouldn't be doing that anyway. But Curly doesn't want to acknowledge it. Acknowleding that Jimmy was a horrible person would be like admitting that Curly doesn't have good taste in friends, and he'd really rather not be—

"I'm sorry for what he did at the party, but it really wasn't—"

"Oh, don't worry. Only one of the punches was for grabbing me by the tits." You open your phone, texting someone. "The other punches were for something else."

"What... what are people accusing him for now?"

"Nothing much. Just the usual. With evidence this time, though."

Curly raises a brow at you, unimpressed as you raise a brow back.

"What kind of evidence?"

"Roommate got pregnant, evidence."

"And you think it's Jimmy because?"

"Tracks with the frat party we were at."

"You just think it's Jimmy because you hate him."

"My emotions have nothing to do with how shitty of a person he is."

"He's not the type to take it that far—"

"Is that all that matters to you, Curly? Is your best friend more important than the law?"

"And what evidence do you have?"

"My friend's word of mouth? The person that she was last seen with being him taking her upstairs to his room? Curly—"

"Not, Curly." He mumbles.

"You don't deserve to be called Grant if you're not gonna be a good person, Curly."

The name sounds like poison spread on your lips as you scoff.

"Are you going to defend Jimmy with your life?"

"It's just that you hate him so much, so it's easy to just assume that it's him. I know him—"

"Sure, yeah, and I know my roommate. She's not the type to lie."

"Yeah, but Jimmy isn't the type to take things that far."

"Is that so?"

"I know so."

"Alright. Alright, Curly. I should go to another party and get raped by Jimmy and then we can prove it, right?"

"He's not going to touch you. I won't let him."

"So you'll let him touch other women?"

"He doesn't do that."

"You think so?"

"Sweetheart."

"Don't sweetheart me. There's nothing sweet about how shitty of a person your friend is."

"Are you sure it's not just because you hate him?"

"It's not." You swallow, gritting your teeth as your brows furrow and you take a deep breath. "I stay away from Jimmy, not hate him. I didn't hate him until he raped my roommate at the party."

"What evidence do you even have that it's him?"

"DNA? Blood tests? Timeline? Video footage?"

"It could all be made up. Why are you trying to ruin his li—"

You slap him.

The slap echoes into the night, and you breathe, chest heaving as your brows furrow impossibly more, annoyance visible as you groan. It's like Curly refuses to get the point. Curly knows you're being honest. You wouldn't slander Jimmy if you didn't have any evidence, but his mind is stuck on the feeling of your hand making contact with his cheek so harshly, and he wonders if he's really doing anything at all by just watching it all go down. Jimmy's awful but he couldn't have been able to drug your roommate. He pat him down — no. Jimmy had chosen a hat for the occasion with a compartment he had show Curly once. It absolutely could be Jimmy, but that would mean Curly made a mistake and—

Curly holds his cheek, blinking slowly as he looks at you, and you're frantically tapping on your phone, the muffled clicks of your finger against the screen the only thing until you're holding the phone to his face with a series of photos that he can only assume were taken by Jimmy.

It's morbid.

Curly feels sick to the stomach at the sight of your housemate crying into her hands and trying to hide her face, the unmistakable sound of Jimmy's voice behind the camera, and something twists uncomfortably in Curly's stomach.

"Do something." You speak, voice steady and eerily calm as Curly stares at the photos you've somehow managed to acquire on your phone, hand still on his cheek. Suddenly, the sting no longer stings and all that's left is a ringing in his ears. "You're the president, Curly. Do something before I get both of you expelled and ruin his life."

"He couldn't have—"

"His DNA was found in her. I don't know what else you want me to prove to you." You let out a laugh, looking to the side, bitterness instantly visible on your face. "Paternity test came back with an exact DNA match of the hair I yanked from his hair the other night at the party while he got his grimy hands all over my tits now Grant fucking Curly tell me if you're going to do something about that shitty best friend of yours unless you want me to end both of your university careers right now!"

"Why..." Curly mumbles, shoulders sinking as he glances at you. "are you telling me this?"

"The head of the fraternity is responsible for all of the members of its chapter. If I submit all of this evidence against Jimmy while he's in the frat, the fact that she had gotten raped at a frat-hosted party will spread and you'll get expelled for mismanagement of your frat. I know I send you mixed signals and refuse to be seen in public with you because of your shitty best friend you do nothing about, but I do care about you, Curly." You pause. "If I release all of this information while he's still in the frat, you'll have no way out, especially as the president. If you expel him first, then you'll still somehow make your way out with only your reputation taken a hit. People might even blame Jimmy for keeping it all from you."

Curly looks into your eyes and then at the picture on your phone, and he closes his eyes.

"Give me a week. Will you take nothing less than removal from the frat?"

"Nothing less. I refuse to let him continue to stay in the frat. You are responsible for them all. You only escape scathed if you remove him from the frat."

"Will—" He swallows. "I'll save that question for after I deal with this. I'm glad this is early enough in the semester, god. What about his contracts?"

"Do you think he deserves it after raping my best friend?" You bite. "What if it had been me? Would you have been able to look at me the same after his hands had been all over me and he assaulted me? That his dick had been balls deep in me while I cried for him to let go?"

"But it wasn't—"

"It shouldn't make a difference who it was. A rape is a rape, and if you don't do anything, then I suppose we're better off as strangers, Curly."

You don't text Curly back at all.

You move from your seat next to him in class, and while he knows you most likely won't talk to him until the vote to remove Jimmy from the frat goes through, but it's a painful handful of weeks without you. It hurts him to call the other board members and tell them of the situation, evidence presented as he presents even the DNA match, and it becomes apparent that no one is going out unscathed of this situation of the frat. A lighter blow is better than a total blow, they seem to agree. Then Jimmy is contacted about the situation — Curly knows him better than anyone, so the board had to know before Jimmy, and when Jimmy's calling upon their friendship of the entirety of college, Curly shakes his head and tells him that it didn't matter if they had been friends for so long. It was either they both go down or just Jimmy on his own, and it was apparent that Curly didn't want to, but had to.

Then Curly finds out just how ugly Jimmy can get, thrashing and yelling as the other members of the board hold him back after he punched Curly, and Curly just wonders how he had stayed blind for so long.

He kind of deserved the slap from you both.

"You think just because you're hot as hell and you've got some chick slung around your arm that it erases that you were nothing before me? You wouldn't be here without me!" Jimmy yells, and Curly's shoulders sink as he stares at Jimmy. "You were nothing."

Shut down. Shut down. The same way you do. Let his shoulders sink, inhale, exhale, stare into the void.

"Jimmy. Maybe you introduced me to the frat, but I am the president because of my own efforts." Curly steps up to Jimmy, and he wonders for that brief moment that perhaps this is the kind of control that he could only have in his position. Jimmy looks incredibly small like this. And suddenly, Curly seems to kind of understand how terrifying it must have been for both you and your housemate. Jimmy looks powerless for once. "You are no longer welcome here. I'll give you a week to find somewhere to settle, but you are no longer welcome here. Rape or assault of any kind is not welcome nor swept under the rug in our frat. Get out."

"You—"

"You are no longer in power. Get out."

It'll hit the local news tomorrow, and once the local news is hit, you'll submit everything to the chancellor and then Jimmy will be done for.

Curly doesn't want to think if it's the right thing or not. It is the right thing to do, but he had thrown away one of his friends as a result. Jimmy had been important regardless of what Curly thought, but he had also been a horrible person, so the choice was coming sooner or later.

It takes two days for news of Jimmy's history of both assault and sexual assault to emerge, and it takes less than a full week for Jimmy to be expelled. First expulsion in near two decades at the university, and Curly's hand shakes when he texts you. He had done it. You had done it. It was done. He had done... the right thing.

You call him instead.

"You alright?"

Curly stares at the news on his laptop, and he swallows.

"Not really."

"You want me to come over?"

"Will you?"

"He's gone." You hum. "Or you can come over. Everyone went home for the weekend."

"Is... she alright?"

"Much better. Thank you, Grant."

There's a considerable silence on the line before Curly is speaking up, voice quietest you've ever heard it. "Do you think I did the right thing?"

"I think you did the bravest thing that no frat president has the balls to." You hum. "You did great, Grant."

He rests his face in his hand, going quiet as he breathes, chest shaking. It was scary. Despite how dependable everyone considered him, Curly had never once considered himself to be dependable all that much. There is still a nagging fear that carried over from high school — the concern for his body and him from the doctor quiet in the back of his mind. Dependable. His facade had worked, but it hurt to have to actually speak up on it.

"I'm. That was." He breathes. "Can I be honest?"

"Always, Grant."

"I never want to have to do that again." His voice shakes, and he holds his forehead.

"You did great. You were very brave, Grant. You want anything to drink?"

"Can you bring me a..." He pauses.

"Two beers. I need a drink after all of that process too." You mumble. "God, those meetings were draining."

"We.. did it."

"Thank heavens we did."

You head over with two beers, bottles clinking as he holds out his car keys, streetlights flickering as he hums.

"Wan' sit on the truck?"

"That'd be nice." You flick the bottlecap off, handing him one beer as you bite off the other.

"Your poor teeth."

"It'll live." You hum, pressing the bottle to your lips as he exhales, sitting back in the truck bed.

"You alright?"

"Hm?"

"You were... that night." He mumbles.

"You can say it, Curly. I got groped. It's not that deep." You raise a brow at him.

"Yeah." He furrows his brows. "Was it really necessary?"

"You were technically half-right to accuse me that I hated Jimmy so I was convicting him of raping my roommate, but it was really a moment where the opportunity come on its own. Besides, much better to stay cleaner as a frat. As clean as you can get, anyway." You raise a brow at the bottle in hand.

"First expulsion in over a decade..." Curly groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. "He was my best friend."

"Also an asshat."

"Yes. but —"

"No buts. He should've kept it in his pants." You raise a brow at him. "He punched you, for fuck's sake."

"Yeah. He... he was a shitty person. I do mourn the loss of a friend, though. Not necessarily him, but, you know."

"Yeah, that's fair." You lean back, glancing up at the sky.

No star in sight. Too polluted.

"Do we just keep moving?"

"Just keep moving." You kick your legs over his, and he sighs, exhaling gently as he presses his palm on your calf, squeezing.

"Join our party tomorrow?"

"Might as well sleep over in your room, then—" You pause. "No, the bathrooms are nasty."

"I'm in the master."

"Oh, in that case..." You mumble, letting Curly run his hand up your calf, hum on his lips as he leans back. "You got spare clothes?"

"Oh, sweetheart. You don't even need to ask."

Curly wonders if you're only being so sweet now that Jimmy's gone. Maybe in a way it was your plan to ruin that man's life. Not that you'd do all that over a man. He wonders if you'd ever ruin his life like that. He might thank you for it — not that you will. You've done more than you could imagine and he's learned more off of you than he could admit. It'd be embarrassing to tell you, maybe. He might just have to get drunk enough for it.

Though, the sight of you drunk is a lot funnier.

You settle on his lap, closing your eyes with a hard seltzer in hand, tilting your head as you stare at the rest of the party.

Curly hardly knows where to put his hands, blinking slowly and quietly as you settle your head on his collar, blinking up at him, lashes fluttering over a shirt that's far too tight for his life but his brothers insisted on him wearing, and he wonders if any of whatever was going on was even working. You don't seem to notice when he's wearing clothes to show off his body, preferring to tilt your head and meet his eyes instead.

"You alright?" He looks down at you, and you hum.

"Mhm. Pregamed before the party." You trace circles on his chest, letting your lashes flutter over his chest. "Always smells awful in here."

"Always does. It's why I didn't like inviting you."

"Liar. I've gone to so many this year." You throw a glance at the rest of the party, and Curly hums. "Sure you like it better when you've got me dangling off of your arm, though."

"Yeah, but it's not like you're mine or anything. Could be..."

"So I'm a common whore?"

"I didn't say that."

"You seem to think that I'm playing you, still." You crane your neck to wave at another member of the frat, and Curly swallows slowly. Your hand moves lower and lower until your fingers are brushing his lower stomach, and Curly sucks in a breath out of instinct, earning a gentle frown on your lips. "Stop sucking."

"It's gotten soft."

"It's called a dad bod." You brush your fingers over his lower stomach, and he exhales as you hum happily. "I like you however you are."

"You like me?"

"You never quite seem to believe me when I tell you." You crane your neck upward, brushing noses with Curly as he hums.

"I can never really tell."

"I know. All your frat knows." You laugh, voice airy as he hums quietly.

"I doubt you'll remember this in the morning."

"Then you'll just have to remind me." You hum quietly, palm sliding under his shirt as you brush over his stretch marks.

"You don't mind them?"

"We match... just tell me you love me in the morning." You close your eyes, and Curly finds a hand on your waist as he continues to watch the rest of the party.

Curly thinks you might actually like him.

Despite it all, Curly does like you. He doubts the world "like" would even encapsulate just how enraputred he is with you. Pretty, pretty girl. He thinks — chin resting on your head and sun peeking past the blinds in your bed. He gets why you like your bed a lot more. It's much cozier than his, and your back pressed to his chest only serves to have him groan when you shift.

He doesn't quite remember how he ended up in your bed, only that he's got his head buried in your back as you stretch your arms over your head.

"g'mornin'."

"Mornin' to you too, Grant." You grumble, getting up to rest on your elbow as you turn around.

"Aren't you a sight in the morning." He mumbles into your skin, and you yawn.

"You know what isn't?"

"Me?"

"Your breath." You push him off of you, Curly's laugh rumbling in his chest as you sigh, opening your phone. "You want brunch?"

"How could I ever say no to you, sweet'eart?"

"Oh, god. Man so sleepy he reverts to his old accent."

"You love me."

"Debatable." You run your hand through his hair, watching as he rests his chin on your chest. "What'you looking at me like that for?"

"Thinkin' 'bout how you're so pretty." He mumbles, closing his eyes as you scratch at his scalp. "Brunch?"

"I'll call in."

"No, let me." He reaches behind him for the phone, humming. "Same place as usual?"

"Yeah."

"Go on, then. Get ready while I make our reservation."

You press a quick hum to his forehead, getting out of bed to get ready.

Curly likes this a lot better.

He finds that it's much better to get closer to you, and it almost feels like a reward for the years he had toiled away in college. Something sweet as nectar on his tongue when you give him a quick kiss between tasks, his shoulders sunk and relaxed as he watches you get ready for dates, humming when you complain about how he's a little unshaven. He'll do it for you. He always will. He'll let you rub at his chin when he finishes shaving, humming happily to himself when you press a quick kiss to his jaw.

Warm and cozy. He likes you quite a bit.

Quite a bit is an understatement, he thinks.

You look pretty at all angles, but he finds that some sick part of him finds contentment and satisfaction when you're under him — bare to the eye and touch.

He never lasts long with you looking like this, lashes fluttering as he rasps at the sound your pretty pussy makes for him as he slides in, breath heavy as he stills, your nails digging into his shoulders as you match your panting with his.

"God, dammit, Grant, move." You sing for him, and Curly groans in response.

"Sound beautiful singin' like that, angel."

"Don't you want me to sing for you more? Your name like a prayer on mine lips?"

"Don't tempt me." He holds your hips in place when you try to shift, brows furrowed as he exhales. "Gon' just flood that pussy if you move this quick."

"Never fucked a woman before?"

"You'd be surprised at how little I pulled up until college." He pinches at your waist, bucking his hips into yours as you squirm, stars in your eyes as your nails reach for his wrists, finding something to ground yourself as he gradually speeds up. "Loved playing dumb and watching girls give up. No one likes a dense man."

"I seem t— ah." Your lashes flutter, head thrown back as Curly practically drills into you, holding your head in his arms as your quiet pants register in his ear, causing him to twitch inside of you.

"You don't like men who play dumb, sweetheart. You're the one who," He rolls his hips, earning a particular whine from your lips, and his head spins. "you're the one who plays dumb. Stringing me along for so long. Have to thank you, though. Glad you fixed me."

"Fixed? Fixed ya how?" You pull at his hair, and he groans.

"Oh, sweetheart. You don't even know."

"Really?" You tempt, tongue darting out to wet your bottom lip, craning your neck to avoid Curly's as he lets his teeth graze your pulse point.

"Gon' bite you. Puncture wounds in your neck and leave red that clings for days." He rumbles, exhaling into your neck as your nails dig into his back. "Felt you clench right up. Would you be into that? Marked with my teeth despite your distaste of association with me just months ago?"

"It wasn't distaste of— you—" You heave, curling into his chest and voice shaking. "You know w-why."

"He's gone now, and I get you all to myself." He mumbles. "Get to bring you over... and fuck you dumb on this cock in my room."

"Hate you." You gasp, lashes fluttering as he groans.

"No y' don't."

"Hate that fuckboy talk you keep," You yank at his hair, forcing his head back as you tilt your head. "spitting out. You're not my sweet boy, now are you?"

"Not when I'm buried balls deep in you." He forces out, thumb finding your clit as you jolt. "There she is..."

You let him fuck you through your orgasm, nails dug into his shoulders as you leave marks, his quiet moaning rippling against your skin as you throw your head back and feel him pulse inside of you.

Curly thinks he's reached some kind of ascension. Raptured in the moment, head spinning deliriously at the feeling of you practically milking him for all he has. This is what he's been waiting for, he supposes. You're singing his name like a prayer, eyes rolled so far back he's worried they'll get stuck like his ma used to tell him, but, oh, heavens be dammed. If this is how he goes then so be it.

The bliss will bleed and his skin will burn, but he doesn't really mind it.

"You're wonderful, sweetheart." He mumbles, forehead pressed to yours in the afterglow, and you'll call him a sap and sigh.

"You think I'm a sap?"

"I know you are." You mumble, thumbs finding his cheek as he closes his eyes, basking in your touch. "I like it."

"Well, I like you."

"Sap."

"Your sap."

Curly finds that maybe its a little twisted that he had to toss his friend for you, but really, who is he to complain when you're so pliable under his hands? You prefer him to be pliable as well. It helps the two of you communicate and work better.

"You think I can keep the stubble after we graduate?"

"Mm, don't want burns when you eat me out." You hum.

"You gon' make me give that up to keep my beard?"

"You'd just have to step up your aftercare."

"I can do that."

"Maybe focus on your job after graduation first."

Curly closes his eyes, humming into your bare shoulder. "Won't y' come with me?"

"We'll see."

"I'll make sure it's a yes." He mumbles.

"We'll see when we get there."

He'll make sure it's a yes when he gets there.

But, until then, he supposes he'll just have to stay dangled on your finger like a pretty little accessory.

#☾.fics #mouthwashing #reader insert #curly x reader #mouthwashing curly x reader #mouthwashing x reader #ending my year with this piece and if things go right we're staring the new year with something HORRIFIC for us all

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raspalace · 3 months ago

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Ra’s Palace: Now Hiring

Real-Estate Investor/Second in Command

It was a hot early afternoon and I opened the doors of the hotel with a NOW HIRING sign on the doors. I dusted off my hands and returned inside to enjoy a cool glass of lemonade, sitting down in the lobby and struggling to read the daily newspaper.

A university student by the name of William was walking out of his last class of the day and sighed dramatically as he felt the sun’s heat beaming down on him. He was a tall young man at 6’2/1.88 m with enchanting green eyes and brunette hair however he was quite fat at 360 lbs and even though he was 24, he was showing early signs of balding.

As he was leaving campus, he noticed all the “Use the Buddy System” posters all over buildings and lampposts; the college was on high alert due to a missing student a couple of months ago. He had hoped that the student would have been found sooner or later but it seemed like the case had gone cold and the town went into preventive measures.

As he sluggishly trekked off of the campus, his body let out a loud groan and he looked around to see if he could find a cheap place to eat, which was not even an option in a college town. He pushed the thought of food and turned his attention to finding a well-paying job to help support himself through college.

He casually walked down the streets and went into every shop he saw, inquiring about a job opportunity yet no one was hiring. How is it that there are plenty of businesses surrounding the university yet no one is hiring? Not even for a temporary position. His body was covered in sweat and his shirt wasn’t helping him in concealing how out of shape he was, clinging to his pudgy body.

William was on the verge of giving up when he came across a “NOW HIRING” sign in front of a highly decorated hotel. “Ra’s Palace?” He asked aloud and looked around the street to see if anyone was around but the rest of the street was empty with abandoned buildings. He entered the building and a wave of cool air hit him, causing him to relax. He looked around and noticed all the fancy furniture and lighting around the lobby before his eyes fell onto an older fellow reading the newspaper…or at least trying to.

“Uh…excuse me? Are you a manager?” He asked and the man looked up from his newspaper and watched him in silence which made William slightly uncomfortable. “Um…I saw the sign in front of the building and I was wondering if you still have any openings.” He muttered out as he scratched the back of his damp neck.

Silence lingered between the two as I took in a good look of the man as I tried to get a thorough read of him. After analysing his poor stature, his unfit body, and early balding problem, I could tell that he had a pure heart. “Ah! Welcome to Ra’s Palace, my good sir!” I proclaimed, naturally rolling his r’s. I walked towards the man and shook his sweaty hand as I looked up at him slightly. “Follow me, young sir. You’re looking for a job?” I asked as he led William through the Palace.

William followed after the man with a slight smile as hope filled his heart. “Uh yes, I don’t have much experience but I am willing to take any job.” He stated and hoped that he wasn’t sounding too desperate. “I’ll clean the floors with a toothbrush if needed.” He chuckled nervously.

I heard the distressed plea and smirked to myself as I believed that this would be an easy change. “Ah nonsense, what are you currently doing with your life right now?” I asked curiously and led him to the grand pool area, accompanied with dive boards, water slides and a lazy river. I walked over to the outdoor bar and prepared a cool lemonade for the both of them.

William did his best to sit down on the too small bar stool without sitting awkwardly or falling off. “Well, I’m in university for computer science and besides that, I’m a bit of a gaming streamer…not a large fanbase though.” He stated and bit his lip as he felt like he was demolishing the interview. I smiled at the man and looked at him with my intense blue-green eyes as I passed him one of the lemonades. “Here you are.” I said and took a few sips from my cup. “That’s gotta start from somewhere. You should know that better than anyone.” I said with a spirited tone.

William was drinking the lemonade and was enjoying the crisp liquid hitting the back of his throat, quenching his thirst and cooling his piping hot body. “Haha thanks.” He said softly with a smile as he felt a bit more at ease around the gentleman. To hear that from a man, who has clearly put in the work, motivated him to keep pursuing his dreams of becoming a successive streamer. But that was soon put to a pause at his last statement. “Wait..what do you mean?”

I finished my drink and cleaned it out before letting out a soft burp. “Well I mean as a gaming influencer, you probably had to push through many lonely streams before you got a consistent fanbase.” I said as I moved from behind the bar and headed back inside the hotel, waving Williams to follow. “That’s pure persistence, Will.”

William grabbed his glass and quickly stood up to catch up with him, knocking over a stool or two in the process. “I-It’s William and I’m not a full time gamer, I just do it for a hobby.” He knew that he would never become a big name in the gaming industry due to his social anxiety and bland looks.

“Nonsense, I’ve watched a few streams of yours myself. You’re quite entertaining and have a good chemistry with your fans. I could use someone who is friendly and charismatic.” I affirmed and chuckled softly. “Don’t be so modest, Will.”

William felt at war with himself as he knew that he was in his third year of computer science, but the more that he thought about it, recollections of late nights and early mornings streaming both indie and mainstream games on his PC that he built himself appeared to him with his gaming chair leaving deep persistent indents in the carpet came to mind. “I appreciate that, many people believe that I’m slack off for focusing on gaming but I truly enjoy the experience and I get a stable income from it.” Will explained with a smile. Memories of living in a danky dorm were washed over with new memories of living in a decent sized apartment that he shared with a roommate and driving a basic Honda Accord which was now parked in front of the hotel.

“Don’t listen to the negativity, they’re just jealous of your young success.” I said and smiled slyly as I noticed the new car parked in front of the hotel’s door. “People hate anyone who is doing well on their path and being good looking.” I stated before twirling around to see Will frozen in his place. “Me? Good looking? I-” Will was cut off when he wasn’t sure what was happening as he couldn’t move his body yet he was able to feel his back straightening up, ending his terrible habit of bad posture. The bones in his face cracked and groaned as his nose became narrow, his lips plump up slightly, and his double chin vanished as a sharp jawline took its place with the addition of a five o’clock shadow. His hair follicles grew in where he was once balding to give him a new set of thick healthy hair.

I smirked as fear was evident in Will’s eyes and I approached him, patting his shoulder gently. “Yea, like I said, I’ve watched your streams before and I see all the ladies calling you hot and sexy.” I said with a wooing and suggestive tone and a soft moan left Will’s lips as his excess fat melted off of him while a lean physique developed, complemented with gentle muscles.

Will knew that he had many experiences where he was bullied for his weight and ridiculed for his early balding, but he wasn’t going to complain about these new upgrades. He wasn’t sure how this was happening or where Rafi was leading this to, but he was glad that he would be able to see his feet just by looking down. Sure he looked like a lithe twink, but it was better than what it used to be.

“So what brings you to Ra’s Palace?” I asked as I was walking up the stairs, bringing Will back from his dissociation as he quickly followed me up the stairs. “I was wondering if you would like to sponsor my content, I think it would do wonders for both of us.” Will explained as he held onto his now too big shorts as he made his way up the stairs.

“Aren’t you tired of only being known for gaming? You’re 29 with over 1.5 million followers. Sure, I know the cash is flowing in, but don’t you want more?” I asked as I opened the door to my office and held it for Will after I stepped in. “Please have a seat.” I offered as I signaled to the chair in front of his desk before sitting down in mine.

With each step he took into the office, the commands slowly settled in. Every step a bit closer to 29, more popular, more charismatic, more handsome. He looked around at the office and saw how it was decorated in an Arabian style with horseshoe arched windows, calligraphy woven in with geometric patterns along the walls and ceilings and a grand rectangular rug that looked like it would fly with the right command. By the time I told him to sit down, he had years of experience as a male model after receiving an offer from somebody in the modeling world who’d come across one of his streams. He sat down on the wooden chair and his wandering eyes met the powerful gaze of mine before Will cleared his throat. “Ah yes…” He started off with his matured voice. “I was hoping for a sponsorship from you.”

I gave a genuine smile and nodded. “I would love to sponsor you, I can see that you’re a hard worker, combining modeling with streaming. Keeping that toned muscle has got to take time in the gym.” Will pulled at the collar of his shirt as his shirt felt oddly tight as his body heated up, letting out a nervous chuckle. “No, not much really. Maybe once or twice a week.”

“That’s no sir.” I commanded and instantly Will’s body posture straightened, sitting at attention. “You spend a tremendous amount of time at the gym, isn’t that right?”

“Yes s-sir.” Will corrected himself, but felt odd doing so due to the friendly mannerism that I was giving off, but it was only correct manners, right?

“In fact, you spend so much time there that you practically live there. Day in, night out. You don’t have any time to stream anymore. Just modeling and flexing.”

Will felt his muscles tense, his throat dry, and sweat rolled down from his brows. “Uh..actually-”

“Hush, you mustn't speak now.” I spoke with a finger against my lips as they curved into a smirk as I could see the panic in Will’s eyes from not being able to move his mouth. I moved to the office door and closed it as well as turned off the fan, letting the outdoor heat settle into the room. I sat back down in his chair and took off my shoes, placing my feet on top of the desk and letting the musk fester in the dry heat. “You went to university for computer science, however you had an interest in the wellness of your body.” Will was sitting in anticipation as he was unsure about incoming changes; however, knowledge of advanced anatomy and physiology as well as proper exercise and nutrition entered his brain. Long days and nights of working out in the gym, hitting new PRs on weights and reps, and drawing in cash from modeling swarmed into Will’s head as he let out a groan. His lean body transformed into an athletic one as his skin tanned over. I watched Will’s shirt fill out as his back and shoulders broadened with amplified muscles that stayed defined. Will’s cock chubbed up in his pants as he remembered countless nights of flexing in the mirror whether at the gym or at home, jerking himself off to the sight of his body; each relief pushed his height to 6’5/1.98m.

I noticed Will’s small erection and chuckled to himself. “No way a model of your stature has a pecker like that. No no, you have a cock that has people curious.” Will stifled a moan as his cock pushed against the fabric, hardening to 8”/20 cm with a wet patch appearing around it. “You must draw so much attention as a Dutch model. You must miss your homeland, I understand that feeling of being a foreigner in the states. You take comfort in knowing that I understand you.” The lovely language of the Netherlands was added to his pulsing head and his neck thickened with his vocal chords to handle the rare language with its melodious yet raspy consonants. Will became skirmish as he felt new foreign skin growth cover the head of his cock as it grew to 9”/23cm. “Hoe gaat het met je?(How are you feeling?)” I asked smoothly and Will couldn’t believe that he was able to understand what he said. “Fenomenaal(Phenomenal…)” Will replied in an airy, gaspy voice.

“As you grew older to age 33, you got bored and expanded your life to being a fitness influencer and with this new expedition, you grew a heavyweight body.” Low grunts could be heard from Will’s throat with a look of discomfort on his face. Heat started in his feet as they slowly pushed themselves forward in his shoes while the feeling moved upwards, his legs began to expand in mass and muscle straining the jeans to the threads. Years of deadlifting heavy weights and intense bar squats transformed his once slim legs to thunderous trunks with a lovely addition to his ass as it plumped up, shifting himself up in the chair. The sound of his shoes and jeans’ strength being put to the test rippled through the room as the warmth moved up to his torso. Will knew that he should have been terrified of what he was experiencing but he couldn’t deny the pleasure he was also receiving; yet a cry of pain escaped him as his spine pushed upwards at a slow pace while the top half of his torso stretched outwards.

Will looked down at his chest as his pectorals gained mass at a rapid pace, turning them into juicy man tits with his nipples always noticeable through his shirts. He hunched over in the chair as he experienced what felt like a punch in the gut, a powerful 8 pack emerged and a light dusting of hair was spread throughout the torso. The intensity swarmed over his arms as his biceps and triceps grew to the size of footballs with permanent veins adorning them, the bones in his hands crackle and pop as they turn into giant thick mittens with callouses from gripping the chrome handles of dumbbells.

I rubbed my beefy pectorals through my shirt as I watched Will transform in front of me with my leaking cock straining through my trousers. “With your fame and popularity rising to new heights, you bought a mansion, new luxury cars, and yachts for your private parties. You’re the life of the party.” I continued on, Will’s mouth stayed open with drool slowly leaking out with flashes of late night parties, drinking games, and high speed races on the highway blaze through his mind; his dark brown eyes steadily changed to icy blue ones.

of them all.” Will Wes was in too much of a heavy daze to realise that I had given him a new name. With each different high-end real-estate property that raced in his overloaded mind, his feet thrusted forward until they propelled themselves out of the crumbling shoes, concluding its growth at 17”/67EU. His facial features matured with more prominent cheekbones and a slight dryness to the skin, but his new premium hygiene routine kept his face glamorous and unfazed.

“Wesley…you’re such a dominant man.” I teased in a playful tone as I continued to palm my own erection as I witnessed my first transformation coming to fruition. “When you walk into a room, everyone knows that you’re the one in charge…the alpha.” Wesley’s head moved to where his chin was naturally tilted up with his chest puffed out and shoulders drawn back. His calloused hands gripped the chair’s arms as his back and legs painfully stretched out until he reached the height of 7’2”/2.2m, now having to duck his head under every doorway he walked through. “And with how assertive and charming you are, you can take any bitch to bed with that god-like cock.” Wesley couldn’t contain himself as his throbbing cock reached to 14”/35cm; recollections of showing off houses to married couples, exchanging looks with the wives to then fucking them in the kitchen or dining room as the husbands were checking out the garage or basement. Wesley was at the verge of breaking with the intense heat, his leaking cock, the thick musk in the room, and my words…it was too much.

“Cum.” I gave the command and Wesley let out a loud roar as thick ropes of cum splattered over himself, the floor and my desk; his strained clothes finally tearing off and decorating the floor with its threads.

Through the daze he was experiencing, he opened his eyes to see me smirking at him from his chair behind the desk before I strode around it and stood in front of him. I reached down and tilted Wesley’s head up by the chin, icy eyes locking in each other’s gaze. “You’ve expressed to me that you have nothing to look forward to in your life; it seemed like you were running in circles.” I started as I moved behind Wesley and I placed my hands on Wesley bulky pectorals, caressing and messaging them; Wesley let out rough moans. “I gave you a new life, a new beginning.” I added as I caressed my hands over Wesley’s gigantic biceps and kneaded them with his veins pulsing at my gentle touch. “I need a second in command for my expanding empire and it seems like you owe me a favor.” I said, ending the statement with a flirtatious tone.

Wesley was in complete bliss from the physical and mental transformations. Never in a million years would he think this was possible. Yet, here he was with a god-like body at a titan’s height, showcasing an impressive torso to turn heads and arms bigger than his head. As I was speaking to him and caressing his new assets, there was something new within him; something pulling him to me. In a dominating body that no one would say no to, the need to submit to the gorgeous man in front of him was overwhelming.

I sat on top of his desk with my erection, front and center of Wesley’s face. “Show me how much you want to be a part of my empire. Show me your dedication to me.” I demanded in my hypnotic voice and without hesitation, Wesley dropped from the chair to his knees in front of him, the floorboards creaking from the sudden weight. He began happily licking my length through my trousers before he fished out my leaking cock and lapped the tip. I shuddered with a moan as I swayed my head back and ran a hand through Wesley’s hair then pushed his head down onto my crotch, causing Wesley to gag from deepthroating his length but he took it like a champ. Wesley wrapped his arms around my waist as he bobbed his head over my bulky sausage, enveloping it with his saliva with sopping sounds resonating through the room.

I led out a gasping moan as I shot my steamy load into Wesley’s quenching throat. Wesley held onto my ass as he swallowed the entire load; the heat spreading throughout his body as a wave of new power hit him. Wesley’s eyes gleamed and I smiled as I knew that my first creation was finished, pulling himself away from Wesley. I chuckled as he pulled my soaked jockstrap over my cock. “That was a great blowjob.” I complimented the man. “One last thing, as my real-estate investor and second in command, I need you to show me that you can handle your new position.” I stated with his arms crossed over his chest.

Wesley sat in silence as he took in everything that happened. Ever since he could remember, he was never able to get his way in anything; he was smart, sure. But when it came to dating, friends, sports, he fell short. Now that he ran into me, he was transformed into a beast of a man with an ability to get ahead and take advantage…and he wanted more.

"Rafi, take a moment to take in what a great job you did with me.” Wesley started as he slowly rose to his feet and looked down at his new boss. He smirked at him and striked a pose that showcased his massive biceps and exquisite torso. I nodded with a gentle smile and was filled with admiration from the work that I have done for it being my first time.

“These piercing blue eyes, huge gorgeous muscles and incredibly handsome face. Let alone my amazing voice.” He ran his giant calloused hands over his attractive face before running them through his hair; he flexed his muscles once again as he checked himself over with a cocky smile.

“So good to just take it all in. You want to take it all in...more than anything.” I felt himself drawn to the giant and his body moved on its own over to Wesley. My hands rested on Wesley’s strong pecs as I looked up at him, the weight of the height difference setting in as my eyes were frantically panicking. ‘Hold on..’ I thought to myself confused.

“You've made me irresistible...even to yourself.” I let out a soft gasp as my mind got foggy and my already slow turning gears in my brain eased into a pace slower than molasses. “Wait…what?” I struggled to ask through my lightheadedness. Wesley smirked and wrapped an arm around my waist as he flexed his arm, veins sculpting his muscles. “Yo-you’re irresistible..” I muttered back as I touched up on Wesley’s arms, tracing the veins delicately with my fingers.

“You wanted it this way, with me being your partner...as close to an equal as possible.” Wesley continued on with his instructions. “My…partner..?” I slowly repeated and looked over at Wesley’s arm, instinctively reaching out and caressing them. “Close to equal..” I furrowed my brows as I tried to fight the words that Wesley was stating. I knew that I was looking for his first employee to be under my command, but there was a pressing thought in my mind that I was looking for a life-long partner.

“You want me to have this power over you...to be under its sway...under my power.” I let out a light moan as I felt Wesley’s rough hands grope my tender ass; my thick cock erecting itself once more. “Under your power?” I knew that this was wrong, this was my family’s business; my empire. Yet, Wesley’s voice was alluring, his radiant eyes demanding control, and his bodybuilder physique…how could I possibly say no? My vision blurred as my eyes became cross-eyed and my mouth stayed ajar with drool dripping from the corner of my plump lips; my throbbing cock leaking into my straining jockstrap. “I want you to have power over me…” I repeated with my eyes glistening purple and Wesley felt a surge of confidence borderline on arrogance as the need to dominate the hunk doubled.

“It feels so incredible, listening to me, taking in all of me…” Wesley slipped his long thick finger into my ass, causing me to buck my hips with a gasp and press my ass into Wesley’s hand. “But you want more...” I looked over my shoulder and watched myself grind my ass on Wesley’s finger, the previous fear turning into an unwavering want. Wesley grabbed me by the chin and placed his forehead against mine, forcing eye contact and grinding his bulging member against my own. “I want more..” I moaned out and looked up at Wesley with longing eyes and pouting lips as Wesley slipped two more fingers into my hungry hole.

“You want to please me, be as close to me as physically possible.” The heat between the two grew unbearable as new memories of lustful chemistry and multiple late nights in the office flipfucking forced themselves through our horny minds. “I want to please you…” I was able to mutter before our lips connected into a messy makeout session; my hand reached down to Wesley’s monster cock and stroked it rapidly while my other hand juggled his balls. Wesley moaned out in ecstasy as hefty pre-cum leaked into my hand, inevitably coating his cock. My hips rocked against his as a strong flood of need to submit, worship and please the adonis in front of me, my dominating nature withering away for him.

“You’re the boss and I advise you…think for you.” Wesley panted into the kiss as he picked me up with his arms under my ass; I wrapped my legs around Wesley’s waist to stay close to him. “You just want to look at me, listen to me, touch me and follow me and my advice.” Wesley added and I felt my already dwindled intelligence dim to oblivion, leaving my piercing blue in a blank state. “You want to take me in, literally, as an equal...a partner." I nodded along, his commands swirling through my mind pulling me to follow them. “I want you to think for me..f-follow your advice.” I affirmed with a sultry voice, my eyes dilated as I looked up at him with want evident. I knew that I was in charge of the company and I was doing fine on my own, but now that I do my best to think about it, I wouldn’t be able to make deals and or get the business started on its international journey without Wesley. I wanted him to - no - needed him to think for me.

“I want you…as my partner.” Wesley slammed me onto my desk and removed his fingers from Rafi, leaving my hole gaping. Without a thought, Wesley rammed his 15” beer can cock into me and I arched my back as my ass clenched around the penetrating member. With every thrust, a memory of our passionate friends with benefits growing into a deep love and devotion to one another pushed to the forefront of our minds. Cold rings formed around our ring fingers as I looked over to see a photo of me and Wesley having a honeymoon on the beach in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. This was no longer an interview between an employer and candidate, but a casual afternoon sex session between lovers.

The building made a loud creaking noise as an office for Wesley was made beside mine with a glass wall between them and a door connecting the two offices. The new office decorated itself with large furniture to hold the burly man, prestige awards dawning Wesley’s name and pictures of the real estates that he has invested in the past hung on the walls with keys to his Lamborghini on his desk.

I looked back up at my husband and watched a snug white button-down appear on his torso, hugging his chest and arms with a gold chain to compliment it. A jockstrap poofed onto his waist and was soon covered by a pair of grey trousers, his hard cock was pulled through the fly. We locked eyes once more as I moaned out, “I want this all to be true, ruling my empire with you.” And with that, Wesley filled my ass with his large load with some of it leaking out and I cum showered over Wesley, both moaning in harmony.

Wesley pulled out of me and stuffed his flaccid cock back into his trousers and helped me onto his feet. “How can I please you more?” I asked and looked up at the man while biting my lip. “First, I want free reign of a section of the empire. Second, snap out of my trance. You are my husband and we will act as such.” Wesley stated and I answered with a nod. “It will be done.” I nuzzled my head into Wesley’s pecs and enjoyed the comfort that it brought before I cleaned myself up and redressed myself. “Create a presentation on what you want to do with your section and present it to me when you’re ready…we will move on from there.” I asserted and placed a kiss on Wesley’s cheek. “Now get out of my office.” I commanded lowly with a playful smile and Wesley returned it with a smirk as he headed to his own office. “Sure thing boss. You go clean up.”

#male transformation #big pecs #raspalace #dutchtf #straight to bi #hypnosis #gay hypnosis #muscle tf #musclegrowth #cockgrowth

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shinobicyrus · 3 days ago

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Maybe I'm being too hard on it, but the Buffy episode Gingerbread simultaneously hits so hard and is immensely unsatisfying to watch in the Year Of Our Lord 2025.

The bones of a great story are there: moral panics, witch hunts, zealous parent organizations, cops breaking open kid's lockers and dragging the "witches" away, cops ransacking a library to remove "dangerous" or "inappropriate" books.

It's the kind of story I think really can't (and shouldn't) be told in a Monster of the Week format, because - spoiler warning - the show conjures a physical monster that is responsible for it all and killing it makes the problem just...solved in a very frustrating way. Everything discussed isn't given closure, everything that transpired (save the 'Amy is stuck as a Rat' gag) simply doesn't come up again.

Yes, I know that's a bit uncharitable to horror-comedy teen drama from 1999, but I'm gonna go off anyway.

From the start, the premise is interesting. I won't do a full recap, but the beats are sample: Buffy's mom Joyce - in an attempt to try and understand her daughter better - decides to invite herself along on one of Buffy's patrols in a mom-like fashion. Joyce sees a pair of dead children with a ritual mark on their hands. The ritual mark suggests witches and Joyce starts getting involved with the school and later city hall, where she makes a speech about taking Sunnydale back from "the monsters, the witches, and the Slayers."

The town starts going on the hunt for witches. First occult contraband, then Giles' books are forcibly removed from the library; witchy students are getting attacked at school.

Only it turns out it's not real. The kids never existed, it was all a trick by a demon who convinces Joyce and other parents to burn their daughters at the stake, but then the demon is revealed and killed. All's well that ends well!

Now I was on board at the start. Watching a boy in makeup get accosted by a gang of bullies for being a "witch," books being taken away by the authorities, troubling speeches by "concerned parents;" it's quite affecting in our, say, current situation.

But when we find out "Oh! It's actually Hansel and Gretel!" is where it all falls apart for me, culminating in a frankly lazy quick fix for, let's be real, is crypto-fascism.

The episode doesn't even have a final tie-up of loose ends where Buffy confronts her mom about her obviously still unresolved issues with her being the slayer. Joyce specifically called out "slayers" in her speech about what's wrong with Sunnydale. She told her own daughter to her face that she doesn't really solve anything as the Slayer; that she's not doing anything to help in a way that matters.

And that's just left completely unaddressed! No follow-up, no closure. Oh it's fine, she said all those hurtful things while under the influence of Hansel and Gretel surely they're not an expression of her true inner feelings at all!

In order to fix this, to give the subject real justice, I think you'd have to A). tweak a few details and B). make it more than a single episode.

They really didn't need to make the kids some figment. Kids have died in Buffy before - and not just high school students. Children have been turned into vampires before and even killed as vampires. It wouldn't even need to be a witch symbol that kicked it all off, it could have just as easily been a demonic symbol used by like...cultists. Buffy has dealt with people working with demons before! She nearly got sacrificed to a snake demon by a college frat full of rich assholes.

In fact, I think it works even better if Joyce was responding to a semi-real problem: humans working for demons. Joyce (and the parents she recruits) would then take that to mean anyone who has contact with the supernatural is corrupted. Parents and cops seeing no difference between evil demonic symbols and like, the white magic Willow and her friends practice would be such an easy leap. It starts with looking for people who cavort with demons, then it's books about demons, then it's witches, then it's just anyone different.

Even if Buffy were to defeat that particular demon and its human toadies that specific episode, the tension would still be there. The problem of Sunnydale taking out years of enduring horrors they don't understand out on vulnerable people on the fringes could have been an overarching problem that would dovetail so nicely with the Mayor, who is the focus on most of that season anyway!

Imagine a longer arc of Joyce's activism getting her more into politics, more into the orbit of the Mayor. A Mayor who is friendly and charming and more than willing to start passing laws to "protect" Sunnydale. Suddenly, a curfew for anyone under 18 makes Buffy's patrols cut short by the cops, or the magic shop is shut down and the Scooby Gang's jobs get harder. They're not just fighting the Mayor now - they're fighting City Hall, they're dodging the cops, they're opposed to Buffy's mom.

Maybe I'm overreaching a bit. Maybe I'm projecting anxieties as I live in a world where moral panics are in full swings, libraries are being purged and defunded by the government, where vulnerable people are being demonized and targeted by parental activists, politicians, news organizations, and hateful vigilantes.

Maybe living through the past couple of years and then watching something I like from my childhood treat the same phenomenon so cavalierly has made me a little bitter.

But hey, there's always fanfiction.

#Buffy the Vampire Slayer #BTVS #Gingerbread #Nerd Rant #Sorry Long Post #Witch Hunts #Moral Panics #Book Bans #Media Criticism

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alchemistc · 11 months ago

Note

okay….. can I ask about Buck in the hockey au?

Buck was a middling college player who got drafted in the third round after his team missed the Frozen Four, and he kind of labored in obscurity for a few years in the AHL before his current team picked him up trying to unload cap space to buy out a problem players contract.

Buck plays four regular season games with his new team before he gets sent back down. The company line is that he's just Not Ready but in actuality he's been hooking up with girls in visitor facilities and once in the team bus. His coach (the coach is Bobby I'm just still working out the details) tells him he sees a lot of potential in Buck, and he could make it if he could just find a way to get his head on straight.

Buck gets his head on straight. He kills it with the affiliate team, runs a point streak through twenty-three games as a defenseman, quarterbacks the power play to the point that fans of the NHL team are up in arms that he hasn't been called up.

They're playing with numbers, trying to give Buck as much ice time as possible while they lose the weight of one of their underperforming D-Men - the usual contract juggling. Then they call him up. He has a few good games, scores a few goals, has a wicked wrister from the blue line. He also scores an own goal against Chim his fourth game up and keeps taking stupid penalties. It's 2-4 penalty minutes a game for too many men or delay of game because he keeps getting too overexcited and slinging the puck over the glass instead of along the boards.

Abby works for TNT, and Buck catches her eye while she's between the pipes for a national broadcast game. She's got enough pull to get his number and they start up a phone based relationship.

Buck's team makes playoffs his first year, and gets slaughtered in the first round. Abby's mom dies and she takes a break from sports casting and Buck, not that she really lets him know that.

During the off-season Buck's team trades for a defenseman who's been in the KHL for a few years. His name is Eddie Diaz.

Buck hates him for about half a day. He feels like he's being replaced. He's worked so fucking hard to make it and now there's this guy who just gets a spot right away?

(They're best buds by the end of the week, and by the time the regular season starts they're playing 25 minutes a night as the top D-Pair)

Buck's career comes to a screeching halt in the second round of the playoffs that year when he gets tripped on a breakaway and slides awkwardly into the boards.

(No one makes the connection at the time, but the player who trips him is the same one one of their old wingers, Deluca, saved from the bottom of a dogpile years ago when a skate got way too close to his neck)

The injury isn't an easy one. There's no quick recovery time. Buck is just sort of stuck in limbo for a while. And then when he's cleared to return they find out there were complications. Coach Bobby benches Buck.

And Buck has been nothing but hockey for most of his life. It was the only way to get his parents to pay attention to him. The only outlet for all his anger. And he's good at it. He's the best. He could be the best, anyway.

Buck takes to twitter during his 'recovery' time. At first he's just posting stupid shit, but then people start paying attention to him. The PR dept does Not Like the way Buck calls out bullshit and trolls on Twitter. The GM gets involved, things blow up. Buck is reluctantly allowed back at practices and quickly jumps into game readiness.

And it's clear he's come back better.

The team toils for years in first and second round exits, and some of their stars are coming close to contract years, and they just can't break out. Buck places third for the Norris a few times, and he and Eddie are often talked about as one of the best Defensive pairings in the league, but their team is fast and light and they get beat to shit every time playoffs roll around. Eddie's feisty, he'll talk shit until the opposing bench is FUMING, he'll get scrappy along the boards, he'll duke it out when necessary, but he usually has to keep a lid on that because he can't let Buck down by getting injured.

At the end of year six for Buck, after a heartbreaking out, Buck's end of year presser goes viral when he talks about how he's been in the league for six years and hasn't won shit.

The fanbase panics because he's in his second to last contract year. If they can't contend, they're convinced he's gonna want out before the All-Star break. (None of them are aware that Buck would rather re-break his leg than leave this team he considers family, and his agent would like to keep it that way)

The team has a banner fucking year. They've got record game winning streaks and record point streaks and their aging goalie has never played better. He has four shutouts in the first half of the season. And Buck was never planning to leave so no one really broaches the contract thing. They'll figure it out in the off-season. Buck's got games to win.

With the trade deadline looming and Buck's team looking like a shoe-in for top of their conference, the front office makes a... strange move early in. They trade for Tommy Kinard. He's a bruiser, real old school type, skates like he's got bricks attached to his ankles but will knock a motherfucker down for looking sideways at his guys. He hasn't announced he's retiring at the end of the season, but he's planning to hang it up either way.

The team is hesitant about that, at first, once they know. He and Chim played together for a few years, and Chim welcomes him to the team by filling his car with golf balls. Pointed, maybe, but Tommy laughs it off, and retaliates, and the team starts to grow fond of him. BUCK starts to grow fond of him. Buck has a Cup run to worry about but Tommy is there, playing five minutes a night and knocking dudes on their ass that would normally be going for Buck and Eddie so consistently that Buck and Eddie feel a little invincible. People are second guessing whether or not they want to risk incurring the wrath of Kinard for a meaningless late March game.

And that is where I leave this because I'm actually seriously considering writing this fic now and that's about where I'd start it.

#bucktommy #bucktommy hockey au

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fandom-lover2 · 3 months ago

Text

Deep In The Woods, Something Lingers In The Trees

Chapter Eight - He Is Not Tarzan

Chapter Seven - Storm Clouds On The Horizon

Chapter Nine - Caged In

I flipped the page, relishing in the bought of cold air my fan brought as it spun to face me.

I was too damn stubborn for my own good, but I was mad at Caesar and therefore not opening those curtains to open the window no matter how hot it was.

Which meant the heat from the final days of summer sat heavy in my room, the AC struggling to keep up.

Outside, kids laughed as they biked down the street, happy. But not for long. Schools opened up next week, and varsities a couple days later.

I turned back a page, rereading what I’d just written. Pro and con lists for varsities out of State, different reasons why these boring courses might be entertaining, excuses as to why online courses weren’t for me.

I needed to get out there, to grow myself.

I’d been as trapped as he was in that attic, now was my turn to get out there and experience the world. Do the stupid college shit, make the regrettable choices, fuck up again and again until I learned something.

And mostly, get over him.

Was I being rash, considering it was only two days ago we fought? Probably. It had been at a moment when tensions were high for everyone, but it was an eye opener. I needed a change.

My dad had the money, I could pick any school and choose to board. I had good enough grades that most common majors were easy pickings, and the determination of an ox. This would be good for me.

I was shattered from my concentration by tires screeching and a metallic crash.

Car accidents were not rare, but on a street as quiet as this one, on a bright summer afternoon?

Whatever, not my problem. I was making a new life for myself.

A few moments later, another impact. I glanced over at my closed curtains.

“The hell?” I mumbled to myself as I stood up.

I paused, hands hovering over the hanging material. I really didn’t want to accidently see him, but if my mom got home and saw something had happened and I hadn’t gotten the tea for her, she’d be pissed.

Besides, it was a quick glance. I’d just avoid looking across and only down.

Pulling back the material just a smidge, my eyes immediately shot to his window.

He wasn’t there, but I cursed myself. So damn weak.

But something weird was happening. Evil neighbor Mr Huskiner was charging out his house, yelling. And his car was jerking between flooring it and slamming on breaks, all while in it’s tiny parking spot. It’d hit the two cars boxing it in already.

A hijacker who doesn’t know how to get out a parallel parking spot. That’s amusing.

Douglas made it to his car, still yelling at the dumbass as he reached in and yanked the person from his car.

Only, it wasn’t a random person, or even a hijacker. It was Charles.

It took me all of three seconds to realize he must’ve gotten out of the house during one of his episodes before I was flying out my room and down the stairs, in pajama shorts and a sports bra.

I threw the front door open, leaping from the porch and charging across the street as Douglas repeatedly jabbed his finger into Charles’ chest over and over again.

“Get away from him!” I hollered, reaching the men and shoving the pilot back.

He reacted quickly, back on us in a second and placing an iron grip on my shoulder.

And then, a flash of black and a rush of air knocked him down, onto and then over his car’s hood.

The blur’s speed knocked Charles and I back too, both of us landing on the grass.

Screeching, animal screeching. Familiar animal screeching chilled my blood and had my body locking in place.

Just over the hood of the car, I could see Caesar, slamming his fists over and over again down onto the man.

Oh my god, it was happening. Just like I had said all those years ago. Caesar was going ape, and he was going to kill someone.

A car skidded to a halt, distracting Caesar enough for Douglas to reach over and use the trash can lid as a weapon, whacking the ape across the head with it.

The pilot scrambled up and charged past us, aiming to rush back inside his house.

I couldn’t move, beside every instinct telling me to do the same, to run inside and lock the door and never, ever leave my house again. All I could do was sit there in fear, breathing heavily as Caesar rushed past Charles and I, reaching the front door before Douglas did and sending him tumbling back towards us.

The man stumbled out the floor beds and bolted, running down the street.

Above, Caesar took to the trees as he screamed, using the branches to swing after him. A crowd surrounded us, a man checking on Charles, who was dazed.

I could not take my eyes off the trees, even as Caesar went quiet and Douglas stopped running to look around.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. I mean, inevitably it would. I had always known, even when I’d gotten comfortable with the creature. This was always going to be how it ended, because that’s the way these things went.

But he was still my friend, my brother.

Caesar leapt from the tree, crashing onto Douglas and he held him down by sitting on his chest.

I was too far away, my vision going between hyper focused and blurry, so I could not see what Caesar did, but the man’s screams had me covering my ears, closing my eyes and turning away.

Please, please make it stop. Make him stop. Make the screaming and the screeching stop. Make all of it stop.

“Caesar! Don’t!” Charles finally came back to reality, shrugging off the people that had been trying to check on him.

Douglas’ daughter came out the house, and cried out for her father. Beyond her, Caesar looked at us.

He seemed in just as much shock as everyone else, looking at the wounded man beneath him, then to us.

“Caesar!” Charles called again, and the ape began towards us.

Fight, flight, faint, freeze.

I had done faint, had frozen, was not stupid enough to try fight, and so I fled.

Like Caesar was after my ass for blood next, I bolted across the street, Charles’ calls barely reaching me as I rushed into my house, locked the door and then locked myself in the bathroom.

I threw up, and then climbed into the bathtub and covered my ears, sobbing and clawing my way through a panic attack as I curled into the porcelain tub and rocked myself.

His screeches, they played over and over in my head. Outside, sirens wailed. First police, then ambulance, then animal control.

I heard Will, arguing with both the cops and animal control. I heard Caroline trying to get a handle on the situation.

I waited for the gunshot, the single bullet that would put an end to all the screaming, but it never came. Caesar screamed, and then the sirens went away.

---

My mother got home about a half hour later. Apparently the Facebook group had been going crazy and she’d rushed home from work.

I was rushed to the hospital, nothing wrong physically but fucked up psychologically. They were talking of admitting me long term, but I managed to convince them into a 24 hour watch.

By the time I left, after hours of trauma therapy and some anti-anxiety meds, it was past sunset and we had just pulled up to the house when Will had come charging over.

“What the hell happened?” he demanded, immediately getting blocked by my step-father, who used himself as a barrier between me and him.

“Back up.” he warned, And for a 6 foot guy with facial scaring and a beard, it was a clear warning.

“What happened?” Will basically ignored him, looking past him at me.

“Let’s go.” my mom tried to pull me inside, but I resisted her pull.

“It’s ok.” I reached out and touched my step-dad’s back, stepping around him to Will. “It’s ok.”

My parents both took a step back, opting to stand on the first steps of the porch while Will and I spoke.

“I warned you this would happen.” I started, with a low blow. But Will needed to understand this was stupid.

All of it. Keeping Caesar, giving Charles the drug that was obviously failing and still not getting him admitted to a proper facility. All this mess was his fault.

“I don’t need that right now.” he hissed, running his hands through his hair as he paced. “Why weren’t you there?”

“I’m not paid by you to be his babysitter. I don’t have to come over.”

“Caesar didn’t tell me what happened. Why did you leave? What is going on?”

“Nothing. We got into a fight, I wanted time to think.”

Will didn’t say anything, didn’t even look at me as he continued to pace in front of my house.

“Wait, you’re not blaming me for this, are you?”

Will stopped, his back to me. He didn’t answer, giving me all the answer I needed.

What the hell could I have done if I was there? I don’t know how Caesar got out, definitely don’t know how Charles did. And how would I have been able to stop either of them from doing what they did?

“Fuck you Will.” I turned, intending to head inside my house.

“They’ve got him in some sanctuary outside the city.” Will spoke up, his words having their intended effect as I stopped.

So, he wasn’t dead. A part of me guessed he would be, and a tiny part of me hoped he was. Then it would make the ache in my chest go away.

I missed him, and was so fucking worried about what they were doing to him.

Yes, he scared me. And I would probably never be able to look him in those hazel eyes again, but he was still my friend.

It’s funny. You get into a fight with someone and are so mad at them you wish to never hear or see them again, and then that possibility becomes a reality and all I want to do it hug him.

I’d had nightmares in that hospital, of Caesar attacking Douglas. And they all ended with Caesar getting shot, and I woke up screaming to see him.

I wanted to see him again. To make sure he was ok.

Caesar attacked because Charles was in danger, just like I had been with the dog.

He wasn’t mean, and vicious. He wasn’t like a normal ape. Yes, the huge fangs and inhumane strength coupled with years of evolution as a predator made it worse, but all that was done was defending his family, as any stupid, testosterone fueled man would.

“Is he ok?”

“No.” Will answered. “The place is ok, but he needs to be home.” He sighed, and I heard him turn to me, and so I turned around too. “I’m going to the courthouse tomorrow to see when the soonest date is for a court appeal to have him brought home.”

My heart jumped, scared and happy. “They’ll let him come home?”

“I’m gonna hire the best fuckin’ lawyer to make sure he does. You’re gonna need to testify.”

“No.” my mom interjected.

“Anything.” I replied over her, not a second’s hesitation in my mind.

I looked across the street, to the unlit attic window. Maybe this was all my fault. If I had just stayed, if I had been there, maybe I could have done something.

“How’s Charles?”

“Shaken. Angry. He wants Caesar back. We all do.”

But would we ever see him again?

#pota caesar x reader #pota x reader #pota caesar #rise of the planet of the apes #planet of the apes #pota will #pota caroline #pota charles

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sky-the-trans-guy00 · 7 months ago

Text

Her PR Guy -Ch.1

hey everyone! I started this fic a really long time ago, and decided to re-write it for a different player! Let me know if you have any requests and/or feedback :)

Feel free to use this idea for a fic if you're interested; I have no problem with re-using ideas.

Disclaimer

I wrote this story with a trans male insert because I, myself, am a trans dude, and there hasn’t been a whole lot of content in this fandom for trans men.

Backstory

Y/N worked for an NWSL team post-grad, as a social media assistant and decided to hop across the pond to work for Arsenal WFC, after being offered a job as their primary content creator and media person.

Y/N’s POV

I met Alessia while working in Arsenal’s Public Relations Department. I had just moved on from an entry-level position at Bay FC with little to no idea what type of world I was stepping into. Armed with a passion for sports and storytelling, my job was to run the social media accounts, and help craft stories that captivated fans and media members alike. What I didn’t realize at the time, is that my story would be worth telling someday, too.

It was my first media day working for Arsenal, and I was totally freaking out. I mean, this was my dream, one that I had fought tooth and nail for. I had never dared to imagine this possibility, but here I was, and I felt woefully unprepared.

Get it together (Y/N)! We worked so hard to get here, and we got this. The board believes in us, and so do I!! You wanted so badly to have a fresh start, and here it is.

I went over to the players and introduced myself, "Hey everyone, my name's (Y/N), my pronouns are he/him, and I'm your new PR guy." A lot of the players seemed stunned, probably because I'm a guy working for an WSL team, so I decided to clear some things up. “I’m also a proud trans man who knows that the future is female, especially in sports. I’ll be mainly working with the photographers and videographers to get content for our socials, but I’m here if you need anything.”

Alessia’s POV

After Y/N walked away I was still captivated.

“He’s a cute one,” said Leah.

“Definitely,” I replied emphatically.

“He could be just what the doctor ordered, with your recent breakup and everything,” added Lotte

“He’s easy on the eyes, that’s for sure,” Alessia responded while looking at you as you walked away from the team, ”Let’s just hope he isn’t too full of himself….”

Y/N’s POV

It’s been over a month since I introduced myself to the players, and I can’t get Alessia Russo out of my head. She’s been flirting with me since we met, but I can barely function in her presence, not to mention I literally work for the team. Before I can get too in my head about it, I get a call from my buddy Alex.

“Hey (Y/N/N)! How’s the new job going?”

“It’s going well,” I replied, “I think I have a crush on one of the players though…”

“I fail to see the problem bro,” said Alex.

“You are a hot eligible bachelor, and any girl would be lucky to have you. You even told me that two of the players are together, so workplace dating is obviously not a problem.”

“Yeah, but I’m not trying to deal with another Karen incident!” I exclaimed.

Karen was a close friend of mine in college who really fucked me over. I managed her campaign for Student Body President, and when she found out I had a crush on her she flipped out and cut me off, only after she won the election. She ignored me for weeks following her win, and when we finally spoke about what had happened, she told me she thought it was best that we ‘keep it professional.’ To add insult to injury, all of our mutual friends decided I wasn’t worth sticking around for. I tried to take the high road and didn’t tell anyone my side of things until it was too late and they had already taken her side.

“How long are you going to let Karen control your life? You can’t keep giving other people your power, bro.”

I knew that he wasn’t wrong, but I wasn’t ready to let go of the past.

“Yeah, but this girl is so out of my league it’s unbelievable. Not to mention, I’m pretty sure she has a girlfriend!”

“You sure about that Y/N?”

“Not entirely, but why would she date a loser like me when she has her pick of almost every queer athlete?”

Much to my chagrin, I was not athletic by any means, which was definitely an insecurity of mine. Deep down, I still felt like the sad, closeted, insecure kid with no friends from Middle and High School, despite all of my work in therapy.

“You may not be athletic, but you’re super kind and loyal as fuck. Trust me when I say that what you think you may lack in physical appearance pales in comparison to the type of person you are. You’re full of green flags— except for your inability to take a good selfie, which most people who know you happen to find endearing. Face it Y/N, the only thing that’s standing in your way is you. You control your own destiny, and you my friend are a catch; remember that.” Said Alex

“Thanks for hyping me up, my guy. I’m definitely going to talk to my therapist about this.” I said.

“As you should, Y/N! I’m here for you if you need anything, and I’m only one call away. You got this homie.”

I ended the call and reflected upon Alex’s advice.

Everything you want is in reach and ripe for the taking, you got this Y/N, I thought to myself.

#woso imagine #alessia russo x reader #transmasculine reader #woso x reader

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steddie-island · 8 months ago

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Steddie smutty September wrap-up

I remembered to do a master post for soft Steddie September but spaced doing one smutty September. The rating for all of these is E so you know what that means.

Sky rockets in flight Week 1 - Mile high club WC: 907 | Tags: Bathroom sex, semi-public sex

Steve had warned Eddie that this was a bad idea. A stupid idea. An idea that only someone drunk on mimosas and the kind of bored that came from being on a stupidly long flight would have. Yet Steve had still suggested it. He'd leaned across the seat, into Eddie's space, and let his lips brush against the shell of Eddie's ear. It was Steve's idea, but Eddie was more than a little on board with it. Steve had barely gotten the full sentence out before Eddie was slipping out of his seat, telling Steve he would be back, and disappearing down the aisle.

Heartache to Heartache Week 1 (take 2) - Make up sex WC: 1,771 | Tags: Financial insecurity, fight about money

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Eddie had asked. His hands shook with his anger, his frustration, with the desire to grab this stupid beautiful boy by the shoulders. "What the fuck, Steve?" "I was helping," Steve said, clearly confused. "I just wanted to help—" "No, you were just using Daddy's money to make problems go away again." Steve had winced at that, but then he'd straightened his spine. "Yeah, I used my dad's money. So what? Why does it matter how it got paid for?"

Through the Pines Week 2 - soft and slow, bruise, backseat (Combined with week 2 of @softsteddieseptember) WC: 3,016 | Tags: Pining, not actually unrequited love, idiot 4 idiot, wingman Robin Buckley

Saying goodbye to Steve was never going to be an easy thing. Eddie had known that even before he'd agreed to go on the college tour with Steve and Robin, when he'd agreed to look at dorm rooms and apartments with them. This was temporary, Eddie had known that from the beginning. At least now there was an entire catalogue of moments from the summer that felt so small and inconsequential tucked away in the back of his mind, hidden in the darkest corners to be pulled out when he needed to feel warm again.

Expectations Week 3 - Rough, aftercare WC: 2,042 | Tags: Dom Eddie Munson, sub Steve Harrington

The call had been short, the way they always were when Steve's parents were home. Eddie had barely answered when he heard Steve's "I need to see you tonight." Barely had time to acknowledge it before Steve was hanging up the phone. Things were always bad when Steve's parents were home. They made demands, had expectations that no one could live up to. Steve had gotten better about trying to meet all of them, but that didn't make the weight of their judgement any easier to bear. Eddie couldn't fix it, couldn't fix who they were and how they looked at their son. But he could help carry some of that weight.

Like a good neighbor Week 4: Loud, vibrator WC: 1,118 | Tags: Accidental voyeurism, exhibitionism

Steve wasn't sure when it would happen, but he was going to kill his new roommate. If the roommate didn't kill him first. He could deal with the messes, with Eddie's bandmates coming in and out of the apartment like they lived there— like Dustin, Max, and Robin didn't treat it like their own apartment, too. He could deal with Eddie putting the almost empty milk jug back in the refrigerator. That was just normal annoying roommate shit. The problem Steve had was that Eddie was loud. Not just during the day, but he was loud at night, too. Steve could hear him through the wall, could hear the buzzing of a toy followed by a deep moan.

Double Stuffed Week 5: Full WC: 1,360 | Tags: t4t Steddie, transmasc Steve Harrington, transmasc Eddie Munson, double penetration, squirting, light degradation

"Is this what you wanted?" Eddie's breath was hot in Steve's ear, sending a shiver through his body. "So fucking greedy, Stevie. Is this what you wanted, or do you need more?"

Divider credit

#Steddie #Steddie fic #Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson #Steddie smutty September #kintsugi_kid ao3

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beardedmrbean · 9 days ago

Note

for mentallyrecovering, i dunno if she's made any definite plans regarding where she wants to go to school, but if she's still younger than 26, job corps is still an option. MOS is their shortest program (45 days) but you can take as long as you like with it (up to two years). it's completely free (and you get a stipend of like, $40/wk), you can be a commuter student or you can live on campus (room and board is also free). they have a college program as well (i went to gary in san marcos, you could take classes at texas state, didn't necessarily have to be anything to do with your trade) and a job placement program after you finish. they REALLY bust their buns to make sure you get a job, too--i had a roommate who stayed in for like, a year and a half trying to get a job, and they paid for her to fly all over the place. salt lake, baltimore, dc, philly, tacoma, etc...she did eventually time out (although they granted her an extra year, TCU students get an additional year if they need one (TCU is the transportation communications union, if you finish your trade at job corp, you can go on to TCU if you want and do amtrak, flight attendant, stuff like that)), but that was a "her" problem. (she had no social skills. not like an autistic kind of way, but like a "brute from the streets of philly" kind of way. unbelievably rude, always getting into physical altercations, etc., and she had the sort of demeanor that, no matter how pleasant she came across when she first met you, it was pretty obvious that it was just a facade and that she'd sock you in the mouth if you said something she didn't like). also, if i recall correctly, mentallyrecovering is in a wheelchair...? one of the big stories that was going around when i was a student at job corps was that a girl had just enrolled as a welding student, i want to say somewhere in tennessee or kentucky, who was in a wheelchair and needed a ramp built into the welding facility (up until that point, they had no wheelchair-using welders and thus the ramp was unnecessary), so the carpentry students were tasked with building her everything she needed--she got all the ramps she needed, and her arms got fatigued really easy, too, so they built her a special table that she could rest her arms on while she welded. so the accessibility factor is pretty good, too. anyway it's a good program, would negate the need to work and go to school at the same time (you can get it done quickly enough that you wouldn't be "not working" for years at a go), you can count it as both "working" and "schooling" on a resume, you also get real on the job training (i don't totally know about MOS, but i did heavy trucking while i was there and we often went out to job sites and did stuff like help tie down loads, did paperwork, ran the yardhorse), and it's pretty in-depth training, too. as stated, i got my CDL, which is ordinarily a 1 month, $8000 course (at least, that was 15 years ago. i have no idea what it costs now. probably way more). not only did i not spend a dime at job corps, but i also got paid to do it, and i was there for a year (CDL isn't like MOS--MOS progresses as quickly as you personally need or want it to, but CDL is at the trainer's discretion, so if he thinks you need more time, you're in until he says you're ready to take the test), so when i graduated, i was already, at 19 years old, one of the highest trained 18 wheeler drivers anywhere in the country.

She's 28 so that first bit might not work, I will make sure this gets to her and she can see what's helpful for her situation.

Thank you very much for the info, I'm truly grateful you took the time to send this in.

#anonymous

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callsigns-haze · 1 year ago

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Out of All: Prologue and mood board

Coming March 11

Brothers' Best Friend Series! Follow along as these characters navigate the treacherous waters of love, loyalty, and desire, all while facing the ultimate taboo: falling for your sibling's best friend. From heart-pounding moments to steamy encounters, this series is a rollercoaster of emotions that will keep you hooked until the very end. Brace yourself for intense romantic tension, sizzling chemistry, and enough drama to keep you guessing. Are you ready to embark on this captivating journey?

Prepare for a rollercoaster of emotions and intense romantic tension! This series delves into the forbidden territory of falling for your sibling's best friend. Brace yourself for heart-pounding moments, sizzling chemistry, and plenty of drama as these characters navigate the complexities of love, loyalty, and desire. Reader discretion is advised for steamy scenes and intense emotional connections that might leave you swooning or on the edge of your seat.

The warm water drizzles upon your scalp as you massage the vanilla shampoo into your hair. Your eyes were closed and your head was tilted upwards, as you tried to wash out all the shampoo foam.

You moved once again. Not that you wanted too anymore. Bradley, your older brother, was getting permanently stationed at top gun so you couldn't say no to coming over.

Warm showers like this allow you to relax, to take deep breaths and let out no stress. Bradley wanted to drag you here, he wanted you to start a fresh life, not the one you were living before. Your older brother wasn't happy with your life choices.

You had the highest degree in architecture and design, you could be earning millions by now but you chose to put aside the seven years of college and went in the footsteps of music.

You completely have rinsed off all the shampoo that coated your head, sadly problems are not so easy to rinse off, especially problems with your only family member.

You pick up the big bottle of conditioner and squirt it into your hand before applying into your hair. You scrunch it upwards, settling it into your brown curls. You let the conditioner sit for awhile as you sink down to the floor of the shower.

You've only been here for two weeks, you were going to find your own place but Bradley insisted on you moving in with him. He had a nice touch but it wasn't home to you, it never will be.

You've avoided navy bars like you always did. You went to some club down Northside where you met a guy, you wanted to avoid meeting a navy pilot as much as possible so you didn't end up fucking your brother's colleagues.

You met a guy, he was hot, smoking hot. His blonde hair was a dirty colour and he had the most beautiful eyes you could've seen. His accent was thick and strong, making you want to bend over every time you've heard it. You'd let that guy fuck you into next Sunday if that's what he asked for.

You finally get yourself up and start rinsing the conditioner, putting one hand on your shower wall for support and remember how the blonde guy you've met did the same thing the second time you hooked up. You've met him three times.

First time at the bar, where you got in his car and he started to kiss you, you fucked for hours making love on the backseat. Later he gives you his number but first you establish that whatever is going on no feelings better be catch.

The third time was on Wednesday. You met up at the same bar as previously but this time he fucked you in one of the bathroom stolls, and he didn't ever go easy.

You stepped out the shower wrapping your hair in a brown towel and lightly dry off your body, you didn't care about wrapping your body in a towel since your bedroom is connected to your bathroom so you simply walk into your bedroom naked.

You lie down on your bed and smile, today is Sunday meaning Bradley goes out for golf later with his teammates but it also means you meet your guy again tonight.

tagging:

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@jessicab1991

@ahh-chickens

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thewayitalknj · 1 year ago

Text

The Song That Follows

Modern!Eddie Munson x Female Reader

Summary-A love song from one of your favorite movies seems to follow you wherever you go and starts to play into your real life ; Prom is just around the corner as well. Word Count-6.7k Warnings-Friends to lovers ; A mention of sleeping together but none is written ; Takes place in 2023.

Quick Notes-Well holy crap, here I am writing for the first time since 2011 probably? I'm a bit rusty, but I hope you enjoy! Just a funny side note, Mrs. K is based off of a real life teacher I had in high school. She did come to my prom drunk (LOL). She also did ask my friends and I to help for the extra credit for a school event but we kindly declined. :) (also I'm insanely obsessed with this song, I hope you love it as well!)

You - Hey! I’m in need of your assistance for the next Photoshop Challenge for Photography, can you meet me in the computer lab after school?

Jonathan - sure, no problem. I’ll see you then!

As the final bell of the day rang you made you way to the computer lab to meet Jonathan, grateful he was willing to help considering you hated asking your own teachers questions yourself. You knew senior year wasn’t going to be easy but as the end of the year started getting closer and closer you couldn’t believe that you and your friends were off to college. Soon there would be one more lunch together, one more after school meet up and one more meeting in the computer lab.

“Hey you finally beat me.” You say walking up to Jonathan who’s waiting for you outside the door.

“Last class was right around the corner, you ready to tackle this assignment?”

“Let’s do it.”

Time passed as you and Jonathan worked on your homework together. Your objective was to take a photo but add in a random object, then having to take said random object out of the photo with editing. You both were concentrating so hard you didn’t even notice your Sociology teacher, Mrs. K, walking up between you two.

“Good afternoon!”

“Hey Mrs. K, how are you?” You ask smiling. Mrs. K was one of your favorite teachers. She was defiantly a little off but was still the life of the party during class.

“I’m doing well missy thank you for asking. I’m so glad I found you both together, I need to ask you a possible favor.”

“And what would that be?”

“I’m head of the prom committee this year and in need of more volunteers. Just a few students to help out with small things for the night.”

“Ah, and what’s in it for us?” Jonathan asks, smirking.

She laughs and shakes her head. “You know me too well Mr. Byers. Extra credit. I’ll let you know a few weeks before what your jobs will be and it will go towards your final grade of the year. I’ll even knock off some final questions.”

“That’s really nice of you to ask us for help Mrs. K but I already have plans on prom night.” You answer with a pretend sad look on your face. You knew you never wanted to go to prom. You hated getting dressed up, wearing makeup, hell doing your own routine in the morning was frustrating enough.

“Plans already? Prom is another month away how do you already have plans?”

“They just happened to fall on prom night. Look, can we talk it over and get back to you?”

“Sure, I’ll be at the front desk working. Thank you both for your consideration.” With a huge pat on the back to the both of you, she walks away.

“I’m just as confused, how do you have plans already set in stone?” Jonathan raises an eyebrow.

“Like I said, they just happen to fall on the same night as prom. I wasn’t planning on going anyway.”

“Well, let’s think this over real quick. Save your file.” You quickly save your edited work and turn to Jonathan. “This is easy extra credit. Who cares if we have to listen to terrible pop music and dress up for one night. We could even ask Nancy, Eddie and Robin to help too. We can all go as a group. It might be worth it.”

“Nancy and Robin would be on board, Eddie is another story.”

“Why?”

“I know him, okay? Prom is not his style or the place he wants to be.”

“But it’s extra credit. Like I said, easy extra credit. I’m in. How about you?” You thought about it for a moment. He was right, it IS super easy extra credit. Your grade could use a pick me up, and it would be a fun night with friends regardless.

“Okay, you convinced me. Let’s go tell Mrs. K when we’re done editing.” Once you heard the announcement of the computer lab closing you both approached Mrs. K and told her you were in. She was very delighted and thanked you a million times and gave lots of hugs.

Now the difficult part is coming up, canceling your plans to volunteer on prom night. I’m sure the news will be taken lightly considering the situation, what could possibly go wrong? Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough, right?

Your locker slams shut. “YOU WHAT?”

“Don’t raise your voice on me Munson.” You turn around and begin to head down the hallway towards the lunchroom.

“Come on, we’ve had these plans for months. We made a vow-”

“Yes yes I know we did.”

“And you want to fall to the broken conformity that is…fucking prom?!” You stop and turn around again this time facing him yourself.

“Look Eddie I’m sorry but this is the easiest extra credit you can receive. You have Mrs. K too why don’t you sign up as well. I’m sure you of all people need the exert credit.”

“Wow, ouch.” This time he takes the lead in walking.

“Well it’s too late, I’ll be there. I still think you should go. Our whole group is going to be there so it won’t be like you're alone.”

“That’s not really the point-”

“Then can you please for one night not be the kid who thinks he’s too cool for school?”

“Still not the point but I’m ending this conversation now.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” You both enter the lunchroom and find Nancy, Robin and Jonathan at your usual table.

“Whoa, what’s got your panties in a bunch?” Robin asks Eddie.

“This one,” Eddie points to you, “has canceled plans with me.”

“Oh, whoa is me.” Robin has always been the one for dramatics and you softly laugh to yourself while getting your lunch out.

“Did these plans happen to fall on prom night?” Jonathan then asks.

Eddie rolls his eyes, clearly annoyed even at the word. “Yes they did. Why? Are you to blame for this?”

“Blame for what? Is this about Mrs. K’s extra credit volunteering?” Nancy interjects.

“I am to blame for this then. Yes, Mrs. K asked us yesterday in the computer lab and we accepted.”

“She asked Robin and I in class today. We signed up too, figured it would be fun.”

“Nancy, you have an A already you don’t need the extra credit.”

“Yes that’s true but after she told us you two were helping we thought we could go as a group to stick together.”

“My thoughts exactly. See?” Jonathan smiles at you and the girls. Eddie slumps in his chair and sighs.

“I’ll just be alone, in my room, with my guitar and uncle in the other room as he watches reruns of Wheel of Fortune all night.”

“Come on Eddie, can’t you suck it up for one night?” Robin shakes his arm and pouts as she speaks. “It will be a lot of fun. And we can all hang out afterword.”

“I don’t know guys I really don’t want to.”

“Just give it a thought okay? I bet you could use the extra credit as well.” Nancy says.

“Jesus Christ…”

Hey I still feel bad about changing our plans, can I please make it up to you?

1 New Notification

Eddie - what do you have in mind??

Well I was going to ask if I can join in on Hellfire for the rest of the month but considering I almost killed our whole party in one of our last sessions I don’t think I’m ever welcomed back.

…yeah Dustin and Lucas are still mad about that…can we just have our movie night some other time?

Absolutely! What works for you?

Next Friday?

Perfect, see you then! :)

Movie night was an essential part of your friendship with Eddie. Every other Friday you would get together and watch one of your favorite films. This time it was Eddie’s trailer with you bringing the snacks and choosing the film. And after another long boring day of school you were exited about spending the night with your best friend.

After knocking three times Eddie rushed to the door to let you in. “About time, what was taking so long?”

“I over bought, get ready for your freezer to be full again.”

“Hey, I’m not complaining. Wayne will be happy about it too.” He steps aside to let you in, putting all your bags on the counter.

“Speaking of, where is my favorite long lost uncle?”

“Working per usual but he says hello.” You and Eddie spend the next few minutes getting everything set up. Snacks on the coffee table while the oven baked your favorite appetizers. “Alight so it’s your choice tonight. What streaming service are we using?”

“Amazon Prime.” You answer, grabbing the remote and loading up the app on his TV.

“Hm, different.”

“Eddie Munson, get ready to watch one of the best film of the 80’s. Personally, one of my favorite’s. Not only is it one of my favorite’s but the soundtrack is perfect is every single way.”

“Okay, so what’s it called?”

“Streets of Fire. A rock and roll fable.”

“If it’s one of the best movies of the 80’s why have I never heard of it?”

“Have I also mentioned it is very underrated?”

“Well now you have. Okay, press play.”

“With pleasure.” You press play and the movie begins.

An hour and half seem to pass like it’s nothing. You knew you were going to enjoy the movie but was curious to how Eddie would react. Every so often you would steal some glances at him, and his eyes never left the screen. Hell he never even got up to go to the bathroom or to get more food. “Well…what do you think?”

“That was…wow.”

“Wow good or wow bad? You’re killing me.”

“You weren’t kidding. I loved it. Why isn’t it more well known?”

“Beats me. My Dad showed it to me a few years ago.”

“Why didn’t you show me sooner?”

“Dunno, just came to mind one day and I figured it would be perfect for a movie night and well, here we are. Plus like I said the soundtrack is one of my favorites, I listen to is constantly.”

“Good choice, good choice.” He nods his head in approval and you smile. “Come on, let’s get this place cleaned up.” As you both continue to tidy up you can’t help but think of how Eddie won’t be joining you and your friends for prom.

“Hey.” He looks at you. “Are you sure you don’t want to come to prom with us? It really is going to be fun.” He just laughs and shakes his head. “Eddie…”

“I’m not going hun. I’m sorry, I just don’t want too. None of you can convince me otherwise.” You accept defeat. As much as you want him to join you you know it’s going to be difficult to talk him into going. It’ll take a miracle to get him there. So you figured from that point on you shouldn’t waste your time.

The end of the night arrived and it was time for you to head back home. You give him a quick hug and he watches you walk back to your car. When you safely enter he closes the trailer door. As your phone connects to car, I Can Dream About You by Dan Hartman pops up as your first shuffled song. “Huh, that’s funny.” You sing along to your favorite song from Streets of Fire and drive on home.

2 New Notification

Nancy - I’m sorry but Robin is about to text you about dress shopping, just wanted to warn you.

Robin-HEYYYY WE’RE GOING DRESS SHOPPING TODAY AND YOU CAN’T TELL US NO SEE YOU LATER OKAY BYEEEEEEEEE.

“I can’t believe you pulled me out on a Saturday to go dress shopping.” You, Robin and Nancy are standing outside your local mall.

“Ladies,” Robin turns to you both, “I’m what you would call a fashionista.”

“You most certainly are not-” “Far from it actually-” You and Nancy answer at the same time.

“Okay okay, I get it. But you will thank me later when I help pick out your dresses. Now, let’s go girls.” She struts herself into the mall. You and Nancy (again at the same time) roll your eyes and follow right behind her, passing all the local shops until you reach the dress shop.

“This is my own personal nightmare.” You whisper to yourself.

“Heard that, and trust me. Don’t you trust me?” Robin asks.

“NO.” Again, you and Nancy speak in unison.

“Please stop doing that, it’s freaking me out. Now, leave me to my duties. I shall be back in a jiffy.” Nancy takes a seat at the front of the store while you lean against the glass wall.

“Do you really trust her with this shit?” You look over at Nancy who’s scrolling through her phone.

“Honestly no, but we had no choice but to be here or we wouldn’t hear the end of it. So let her have her fun. Who knows, maybe she’ll find us some good choices.”

Turns out Robin was good with fashion if she put her mind to it. She picked out a few dresses for Nancy which she tried on, settling on the third choice. Once it was your turn, Robin led you to your dressing room, closing the curtain. “Um, Robin there’s only one dress in here.”

“I know, try it on. I have my reasons.” You look over the dress, touching it with ease. You admire how pretty it really is and thought you would pick it out yourself if you saw it on the rack. You quickly change out of your clothes into the dress, only to find your having trouble with the zipper.

“Hey, need help with the zipper. Can’t seem to reach.” You open the curtain and Robin quickly helps, then taking a step back.

“Whoa.” This time, it’s her and Nancy speaking at the same time.

“Whoa good or whoa bad?”

“Whoa good. Look at yourself.” You turn around towards the mirror and step onto the pedestal. You were never for dressing up but this dress was just, perfect.

“Damn Robin, you out did yourself.” You complaint her work, turning around and admiring how the dress fits you perfectly.

“I told you, I have my reasons.”

“And those reasons were?”

A familiar song starts playing in the store.

“Well for one, the dress is just you. And two-”

“Wait, wait sorry. Hold on.” You point your finger to the speaker and smile. “Sorry, I just love this song.”

“Okay, random.”

“What song is it?” Nancy seemed curious.

“It’s called I Can Dream About You. It’s from the 80’s, it’s actually from one of my favorite soundtracks.”

“What movie?”

“Streets of Fire? Why are you questioning me so much?”

“Because I knew this sounded familiar. Mike was listening to it in his room. When I asked him about the song he said Eddie told him to listen to it.”

“He, he did?”

“Yeah, he said they all started talking about movies and Eddie brought it up. He said he watched it with you-”

“WHICH leads me to reason number two,” Robin interrupts, “this dress will knock Eddie off his feet.”

“Very funny Robin.” You step down and cross your arms.

“I mean Robin isn’t wrong, Eddie would love this on you.” Nancy agrees, looking you up and down.

“When did this fantasy about Eddie and I start?”

“Oh please, we’ve all known since we were like 15. You belong together, and we all think it.”

“And we all is…?”

“Everyone in our group, even Eddie. But of course he won’t admit it himself because he’s stubborn and men never admit their feelings.”

“Robin-”

“Hush,” she covers your mouth “it is my mission to get you both together by the end of senior year. Also,” she uncovers your mouth, “this song is clearly a sign.”

“Okay Robin you’re loosing it-”

“Oh come on! Don’t you think it’s coincidental that you hear this song while shopping and then learn how Mike was listening to it after you just happen to show Eddie this movie a few weeks ago?” She perks her head to the side, she once again, wasn’t wrong.

“Well-”

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

“You’re not. And after Eddie and I watched it, it was the first song to pop up on my shuffle.” Robin raises her arms to the sky.

“See?! It’s fate. It’s going to happen I can guarantee it. I will work my magic. Now, let’s go pay for these beauties.” She once again struts her way this time to the cashier.

“And do you have a say in all of this?” You ask Nancy.

“Well, the dress is gorgeous. And I also think you and Eddie belong together. That’s all.”

“Awesome, great thanks. Can you please unzip me?” Nancy helps as you make your way back in and get dressed back into your normal attire.

Senior Week had finally arrived, which meant prom was on Friday. Today was a half day for the senior class. It was also the day you found out your special jobs. Thankfully being the wonderful teacher she is, Mrs. K kept you and your friends together and assigned you to help decorate apart of the gym the morning of. Your last event of the day was lunch. “So, what’s this big news you have to share Jonathan?”

“Wait until Eddie comes and I’ll let you all know.” After a few minutes, Eddie sits himself next to you taking out his headphones.

“Sorry, got held up in the library working on an assignment. What’s your big news?”

“I have a surprise for you guys.”

“And what would that be?” Nancy asks.

“Argyle is flying in from California to go to prom with us.”

“No way?!” “That’s awesome!” “Sweet!” Everyone seemed super excited about Argyle flying in, except for Eddie.

“Well, I’m sure you all will have fun together.”

“Come on Munson, you seriously don’t want to come?” Robin sticks out her lip.

“No no and fuck no. You can keep trying but nothing is going to convince me to go.”

“You suck, you know that?”

“Nothing new.” He states.

Jonathan jumps back into the conversation to change the subject. “Yeah, he’s really excited about coming. He can’t wait to see you all.”

“We’re excited to see him too, it’s been so long. FaceTime and Zoom can only do so much.” You say.

“True. So, how was shopping for your dresses?”

“It actually went pretty well. Turns out Robin has an eye for fashion when she puts her mind to it.” Nancy answers.

“What do the dresses look like?”

You begin to answer, “Well mine is-”

“NOPE. Keep your mouth shut!” Robin yells.

“The heck is up with you?” Eddie asks.

“It’s all a surprise. You’ll have to wait until Friday to see how we look.”

“But I’m not even going.”

“Then you’re missing out.” Robin says matter-of-faculty. You knew what she was doing and you hated it, but you also wanted to see what the outcome would be.

“Whatever, you guys have fun. I’ll be home if you change your mind.” He says to you, picking up his stuff and leaving. When he was getting up he unlocked his phone and pressed play on a song popping in his headphones, you caught a quick glimpse of it and your eyes went wide. After he took a few steps away, they all look at you confused.

“What?” You ask.

“Why did it look like your eyes were going to budge out of your sockets?” Jonathan asks, concerned if anything.

“Oh, nothing. I’m fine.”

“You look like you saw a ghost just now. What gives?”

“I said it’s nothing-”

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, thank you though.”

Robin smirks.

Prom Night approached a lot quicker then you expected. Senior Week flew by so quick you now found yourself at Nancy’s house with Robin getting ready. Peter Gabriel’s Your Eyes playing through the speakers in her room. You spent most of the morning at school getting your extra credit in with Mrs. K and other classmates. When 2pm hit the clock she dismissed and thanked you all for your hard work. Jonathan agreed to pick everyone up along with Argyle.

“I’m so tired from earlier I don’t think I’m going to make it through the night.” You say.

“Oh you’ll be fine. Once we all get there your energy will pick up.” Nancy says. You nod your head and continue working on your makeup.

“And that was Peter Gabriel’s Your Eyes on 102.7, hits from yesterday and today. I’m Michelle, your DJ for the next few hours. The all request zone is coming up, so call in or shoot us a text to get your fav songs on the air! I’ll be back after these messages.”

“Hm, that sounds fun. I’ll be right back.” Robin says as she exits the room.

“What does she mean?” Nancy asks.

“Beats me, maybe she’s going to the bathroom.” A few moments pass as Robin enters back into the room with a smile on her face, a few minutes pass until the DJ begins talking on the radio again.

“Alight everyone and we’re back. We had a few calls and texts coming in. I want to kick off our request zone with a message from a young lady named Robin! She called in for a message for a friend, quote ‘Please change your mind, you won’t regret it. She’s going to look stunning and gorgeous and you know you’re going to kick yourself for it.’ And with that, here’s her request ‘I Can Dream About You’ by Dan Hartman!” The song starts playing

“ROBIN WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?” You scream, dropping your eyeliner.

“Hey, you never know, Eddie could be listening. Plus, let’s flashback to yesterday shall we? You know damn well what you saw on his phone. He was listening to this song when he got up and you saw it on his lock screen, wasn’t he?” You stare at her. “Well?”

“Wait, is she for real?” Nanny questions putting down her hair supplies down, now entertained.

“…Yes. He was listening to it.” You admit, looking down at the floor.

“SEE? I knew it. Fate, it’s going to happen. He’s showing up tonight.”

“No, he’s not. I know him better than you, he doesn’t listen to the radio that much. Mainly just his phone. There’s only one good rock station in this town and it’s rare he even listens to that.”

“Well I thought it was worth a shot. I guarantee he’ll come. I can feel it.” You just shake your head and continue with your makeup. “Anyhow, ladies. Let’s get glammed.”

After a few hours cooped up in Nancy’s bedroom, you all found yourselves taking photos in the Wheelers living room.

“You girls look so beautiful, so grown up!” Mrs. Wheeler wipes away a tear while clicking her photo button multiple times.

“Okay Mom, that’s enough.” Nancy states.

“Oh one more please?!” DING DONG.

Nancy whispers a small “thank god” as Mrs. Wheeler gets the door to greet Jonathan and Argyle.

“What up my Hawkins family?!” Argyle enters with arms wide open. You, Nancy and Robin all run to him and engulf him in the biggest hug.

“We’ve missed you! We’re so glad you came for this!” You say.

“I’m glad too! Jonathan gave me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

“Yeah yeah, you all look great by the way.” Jonathan bows to you all as Argyle follows along. Mrs. Wheeler insists on taking more photos together and you all agree because you can see she’s still so emotional.

“Okay, I’ll let you all go. You have fun, stay safe and text me updates please!” You all then give her a hug when you hear honking coming from outside the house.

“What the hell is that?” Ronin questions looking out the window. “Oh, no way.”

“Yeah, I came barring gifts my friends.” Argyle leads to the front door.

“COME ON SENIORS, WE’RE GOING TO BE LATE.” And there you see Steve, leaning up against a car.

“Oh you can’t just stay away from Hawkins even after you graduated can you Harrington?” You yell to him, walking out and meeting him.

“And miss all my friends going to their senior prom? Never, come here.” You give him a hug and look at the car.

“Whose car?” Robin points to the shiny black car.

“Argyle rented it for you guys for the night, and I will be your chauffeur.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” Nancy says to Argyle.

“It’s no problemo, figured it can be my thank you to you all for the invite and for Jonathan letting me crash at his place so I didn’t have to stay at a hotel.”

“Look at the time, let’s get you guys to prom. I’m driving, so I’m playing DJ.” Steve opens the back door for everyone as you pile in and make your way towards Hawkins High.

Approaching the school was overwhelming. There were teachers, parents and cars everywhere. It took awhile for Steve to pull up to the entrance but you finally made it. After parking the car Steve turns around to face you all. “Okay kids, prom ends at midnight and I will be here on the dot to pick you up. No later than that okay?”

“Thanks Dad. See you then.” Robin says rolling her eyes, a specialty of her’s at this point. You all exit the car and make your way into the gymnasium.

“Place looks great, our hard work paid off.” Jonathan states, looking around.

“You all did this?” Argyle asked in amazement.

“Well some of it yes.” You answer.

“Rad.”

The night rolls on smoothly. You’re all horribly dancing to terrible TikTok hits and overplayed songs on the radio, but that’s not stopping you from having a good time. Although every time you would greet a fellow classmate, the majority asked where Eddie was. It hurt but you can’t say you didn’t try. You even tried to request a few songs to the DJ but he just looked at you like you had three heads. However when you requested Taylor Swift he was happy to oblige.

“I’m going to go get some water, anyone want any?” You yell over the music.

“No but we’ll meet you over by the tables, we need a break.” Robin says, pointing to where they’re going to be. You give her a thumbs up and head over to the water table, filling your cup and taking a huge gulp. Who knew dancing would take up this much energy.

“Hey there sonny!” Mrs. K comes on over standing next to you.

“Hi Mrs. K! You look beautiful.”

“As do you! How’s your night going?” Mrs. K seemed a little too upbeat and standing a bit too close. Smelling her breath you knew she definitely had a few to drink before arriving.

“It’s going great. We’re having a fun time.”

“Awesome! Hey, I meant to ask you all earlier. Where’s that Munson kid?” She looks around the dance-floor.

“He’s not coming. He had obligations set already.”

“Ah, shame, I thought for sure he would be your date.” She playfully hit your arm raising her eyebrows.

“Yeah everyone seems to keep telling me that.” You take another sip of your water.

“Shame shame shame…” She begins to dance and sing, …”sHAME SHAME SHAAMEEE…”

“Here Mrs K,” you hand her a cup of water, “I’m going to go find my friends.” You quickly walk away and return to your group.

“What’s up with Mrs. K?” Jonathan asks.

“I think she may have had some drinks before coming in tonight.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Nancy laughs.

“Yeah I thought something was off about that lady. Is she always like that?” Argyle asks.

“YES.” You all answer in unison, laughing even harder. You all notice the DJ slowing the songs down, indicating it was time for some slow dancing to take place. You all look at eachother, shake your heads and sit on down. You start conversations about your senior year, how Argyle’s school year was back in California and small talk when you notice a familiar song starting to play.

I Can Dream About You starts playing over large speakers.

“Oh my god, you have got to be kidding.” You say, shaking your head and placing it in your arms on the table.

“What?” Jonathan asks.

“Nothing, it’s this song playing.”

“What about the song?”

“Fate…” Robin says, looking behind you.

“What do you mean fate?” Jonathan was very confused.

“Fate for what?” Argyle was also very confused.

“Fate…” Nancy says.

“What is going on?! And how is the DJ playing this song right now?!” Nancy and Robin nod and point towards the opposite side of the room. You turn around to look and there standing across the way in a dark red button up, black pants and boots is Eddie.

“Holy shit…”

“FATE, I KNEW IT. GO GO GO.” Robin pushes you up. You straighten out your dress and begin to walk towards him. He begins to walk towards you and you meet in the middle of the dance-floor.

“Hey.” You speak first.

“Hey.” He answers.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Well, a little birdie told me you would look stunning and gorgeous and I just couldn’t pass up that opportunity now could I?” He takes your hand and spins you around to get a better look at you.

“Wait, you actually listened to the radio?”

“Glad I did this time.” Smiling he takes your hand, grabs your waist and you both begin swaying together to the music.

“I can assure you I didn’t put her up to it.”

“I believe you, Robin has balls.” You laugh and look back up at him.

“You look handsome by the way, I’m really glad you showed up.”

“Thanks, me too.” He says quietly. You both continue to dance together, soon enough leaning your head against his chest and listening to his heartbeat. You felt like you were on cloud nine, in a dream. Once the song faded out you separate but he pulls you into a hug, leaving a light kiss on the top of your head. You thought you were going to melt but kept it together.

“By the way, how did you get the DJ to play the song? I requested stuff earlier and he looked at me like I was crazy.”

“I may have slipped him a $20.”

“Eddie Munson you are something else.” You say. You grab his hand and lead him over to the table.

“You actually made it!” Robin gets up first pulling him into a hug followed by Nancy and then Jonathan and Argyle.

“What made you change your mind?”

“Change of heart, that’s all. Plus it’s halfway over.” He shrugs. He wasn’t going to admit he heard the message on the radio, he didn’t want to give Robin the satisfaction.

“Are you surrrre that’s the only reason why? Huh Huh?!” Robin smirks. Now she’s having way too much fun.

“Hey, you guys did a great job by the way. Place looks awesome.” Eddie points around the room trying so hard to change the subject.

“Thanks, I think we did pretty good.” You say looking around as well.

“So, now what?”

“We dance some more. The night is young my friends!” Robin twirls and starts making her way back to the dance-floor.

“Actually it’s 11:15 so it’s almost time to go.” Argyle yells following her, as does Nancy and Jonathan.

“I was actually going to ask if I can steal you for the rest of the night after this is over.” You smile and look down at the floor. Again, cloud nine. Butterflies and all.

“Movie night?”

“Movie night.”

“COME ON LOVEBIRDS A FEW MORE SONGS PLEASE.” Robin yells, you shrug your shoulders grab his arm and pull him into the crowd against his will.

The stroke of midnight soon hit and everyone began to leave. You and your friends exit and find Steve leaning up against his car waiting just like earlier.

“Hey Munson, I didn’t know you were coming.” Steve says, shocked to see him.

“Yeah I didn’t think I was going to make it either but I did.” He says.

“Alright kids, where to? The diner, home, a party?”

“The diner please, I’m starving.” Argyle says.

“You’re always hungry Argyle.” Jonathan laughs getting in the car. Steve makes his way over to the drivers side.

“I’m going with Eddie, so I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” You tell them.

“Okay, drive safe!” Everyone says their final goodbyes as you and Eddie walk over to his van. Ronin leaves you with a wink and pointed finger guns, as you flip her off in the process.

The ride back was calm, as music quietly played in the background. As you approach the trailer, you see Wayne exiting the front door.

“Hey Mr. Munson.” You say walking up to him.

“How many times do I have to tell you, it’s Wayne?” He laughs pulling you into a hug.

“I can’t it’s too weird.”

“Well would you look at you. Absolutely beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

“Did y’all have a good time?”

“Yes, yes we did. Glad it’s over.” Eddie answers walking over to you both.

“I’m glad to hear that. Well I’m off too work. You both have a goodnight, don’t have too much fun now…”

“Wayne come on…” Eddie sighs walking over and unlocking the door.

“It was good to see you Mr. Munson. Have a safe night at work.”

“Thank you sweetheart.” He nods his head and leaves. You follow behind Eddie and enter.

“I’m going to get you a change of clothes.”

“Great thanks.” You sit on the couch and take off your shoes, thankful you no longer have to wear them any longer. Eddie walks back out with some clothes in his hand.

“Here you go, the bathroom is all yours. I’m going to get changed in my bedroom.”

“Thanks.” You make your way into the bathroom, only to realize you need help with the zipper. “Shit. Hey Eddie?”

“You okay?”

“Yeah I just need help with my zipper.” You meet him outside the door, he comes out in pj pants and no shirt. You immediately turn around to so your eyes don’t wonder. “It’s uh-”

“I see it don’t worry.” You feel him slowly taking the zipper down your side, holding onto the dress so it doesn’t fall in the process. Your breath starts to pick up and you have to talk yourself into slowing down. You’ve seen him shirtless countless times but this feels different. “Okay, you’re good.”

“Thanks again-” You start to walk back into the bathroom when you feel his hand catch your arm.

“Wait.” You turn around looking up at him. And before you could ask what he wanted, your lips crash. You’re shocked, excited and turned on all at the same time. This is something you’ve wanted, craved for a few years now. Constantly suppressing your feelings because you thought you were crazy, but this, you couldn’t even believe it. Without thinking you wrap your arms around his neck and move in closer, you swore time stopped. As you both part slowly, your dress falls to the floor. “Oh shit!” Eddie covers his eyes and turns around. “I promise I didn’t see anything.” You laugh and bring the dress back up covering yourself again.

“It’s okay. Um, I’m going to get changed now.”

“Yeah you do that I’ll find a movie.” You head back into the bathroom, lock the door and take the deep breath you were holding in. Replaying the moment in your head and doing a tiny happy dance in the process. Eddie gave you pair of pj pants as well with an old Iron Maiden shirt. You lay your dress over the tub and find some makeup remover in the cabinet. You knew Eddie sometimes wore a bit of eyeliner when he played his shows with Corroded Coffin, sometimes you even helped him out with his own fear of poking his eye. After taking off your makeup and cleaning yourself up you headed back out to the living room to find Eddie on his couch scrolling through Netflix.

You slowly approach him. “Eddie?” He looks up at you. “I really don’t want to watch a movie.”

“I was hoping you would say that.” He gets up and practically runs to you once again connecting his lips to yours, quickly picking you up as you wrap your legs around his waist. You part from his and lean your head against his. “What took us so long?”

“Stupid teenager hormones? Peer pressure? Finally realizing your true feelings?” You answer.

“Sounds about right.” He laughs, kissing you again and walking you both back to his bedroom without breaking the kiss.

The morning sun was peaking through the window. You squint your eyes and look over at the clock on the nightstand. 8:25am. You rub your eyes and start to get up when you feel some extra weight on you. Eddie’s arm was wrapped around your waist, not giving you enough movement. You smile to yourself and bring yourself closer to him, only to feel him wiggle.

“What time is it?” He asked in a sleepy voice.

“Almost 8:30.”

“Fuck, that’s so early.” He responds pulling you closer.

“It’s really not.” You reply laughing at how sleepy he is. You reach over to your phone on the nightstand and see some text messages.

Robin-Are you awake yet??

Please tell me you’re awake I know it’s 8am but plz.

HHHEEELLLOOOO?

PLZ ANSWER IM DYING TO HEAR WHAT HAPPENED LAST NIGHT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I’m awake NOW.

(unsent) Just please don’t call-

Too late, Robin started a FaceTime call.

“Buckley?” Eddie asks.

“Yup. Can I pick up?”

“Might as well. She should be the first to know.”

“Know what?”

“That we’re kinda official now?” You blush and pick up the phone trying to hide Eddie from sight.

“Hey Robin.”

“HOLY SHIT I’M DYING WHAT HAPPENED?”

“Robin calm down it’s still early and-”

“And we’re just waking up together in the same bed. Can we please call you back after we have some coffee?” Eddie comes into frame. Robin has the biggest grin and smile on her face.

“FINALLY! GUYS THEY DID IT. THEY’RE FINALLY-” Eddie reaches over and presses the hang up button.

“Hey-”

“Hey nothing. I want you to myself this morning.” He flips you so you’re facing him and brings you into a kiss.

“Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“That we’re official.”

“Well I think the proper way would be to take you on a few dates, then ask you to be my girlfriend then sleep together but considering we went out of order I just kind of figured you wouldn’t mind.”

“No no, not at all.” You laugh bringing him back down for another kiss. “But I will take you up on that coffee.”

“Will do.” He gets up and starts to head out to the kitchen.

“WAIT.”

“What what?”

“Put some clothes on.” You say throwing him his pants from the night before.

“Yeah that would have been awkward when Wayne gets home.” He slips them on. “By the way, my alarm is going to go off at 8:45 so you can just hit the button.”

“Okay.” You get up yourself and find the clothes he gave you on the floor. As you’re getting dressed, Eddie’s alarm goes off with the radio going off. Right when the song begins to play, Eddie runs back into his bedroom and you just stare at the clock.

🎶 I don’t understand it, can’t keep my mind off loving you 🎶

“You have got to be kidding.” You whisper.

“I uh, I think we have a song.” Eddie says, looking over at you.

“Yeah, yeah I think we do.”

Thank You again for reading! Tumblr is still very new to me in regards to writing and posting stories so I tried my best to follow formats from my fav authors I've read over the last few months! Hopefully It wasn't too bad of a read! :) ❤️

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fan fiction #modern!eddie munson #modern!eddie x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x female reader #Kierstyn Writes #Spotify

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