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say-al0e · 2 months

Text

Cling

Rating: M | This is smut! Minors, DNI! No one under 18!

Summary: For as long as you could remember, you and Steve have been close. What others see as clingy, Steve sees as comforting, right? Or, you fell in love with your best friend and suddenly, everything is too much. Warnings: Unprotected PinV, oral (f!receiving), blink and you'll miss it angst. Pairing: Steve x fem!Reader Words: 5.5k

Though the sun had long disappeared, dipped below the horizon in a blaze of oranges and reds hours ago, the scent of artificial coconut and chlorine lingered as you lounged beside the Harrington pool.

The kids disappeared with Eddie the moment the sky tinted pink, off to finish a campaign they spent much of the day discussing, and Robin followed soon after with a weak excuse designed to hide her true destination of Vicky’s house - despite the fact that you all knew.

That left you and Steve, always the last two standing.

Steve stretched out on a lounge chair to your left - sunglasses resting atop his head, t-shirt forgotten somewhere in the backyard, garishly patterned swim trunks resting low on his hips. His eyes were closed, chest rising and falling evenly, though you knew he was far from sleep.

Regardless, you took the chance to study him in the rare moment of silence.

The apples of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose were tinted pink, not burned enough to cause concern but clearly effected by his time in the sun. His hair was wild and beginning to curl, free of gel and still a little damp from his last dip in the pool. The weeks of swimming, back in the pool where he spent so much time growing up, had toned his arms - his shoulders, his stomach, his thighs - and you could see the result of his resumed habits so clearly.

A swath of hair covered his chest, tapered into a faint line that disappeared into the band of his trunks, and you were struck by just how many times you’d been here - sitting to his right, smelling of chlorine and coconut. Over a decade of friendship, more than half your life, and you’d witnessed Steve go from a lanky boy to a confident twenty-something.

Moments like this reminded you of why your best friend was one of the most sought-after bachelors in Hawkins and why, somewhere along the line, you joined the long list of those desperate for him to give you the time of day.

Only, you were lucky enough to be one of the few that had Steve’s full attention. There was little question that he knew everything - nearly everything, not this, never this - there was to know about you. Even less of a question that you would be sharing his bed later on, though not in the way you’d secretly started to want.

“Quit starin’ at me, creep.” Steve’s voice came then, before you could begin to spiral and question whether you could handle another night of sleeping beside him - wrapped in his embrace, his sheets, his scent - and you hummed.

“Just seeing if I need to get the aloe,” you teased, hoping it sounded as light as you meant it. “Should’ve listened to me, when I told you to put on sunscreen.”

Steve laughed. “You mean I should’ve sat still while you attacked me with it. I would’ve, if you’d given me some warning. Not nice to just start mauling a guy.”

“I know you dream about me mauling you.” The deflection was easy, reflexive, and accompanied by a laugh that rang a touch hollow in your own ears but Steve huffed, good-natured, anyway.

“Hm. Think that’s the other way around.” He cracked open an eye, then, and turned his head to glance at you while you reached for his half-empty beer in an effort to avoid meeting his eyes.

“Please,” you scoffed, though it was weaker than you intended. “I can’t get you to stop touching me.”

Despite his upbringing - or, really, because of it - Steve sought physical affection in those closest to him. It was true that he hadn’t stopped touching you over the course of your friendship, hugs and holding hands and cuddling on the couch. There was never any hesitation, never any awkward shuffling or adjusting. It was as natural as breathing, comfortable, and lately, you savored every brush of his skin against yours.

Still, Steve waved a dismissive hand and reached for the pack of cigarettes he discarded on the table after the kids left. “Sure.” He lit one, fixed you with a teasing grin as he took a drag. “Easy for you to say when you’re the clingiest person I know.”

The observation was not unkind. If anything, it was soft - fond. It was a joke he’d made before, once or twice, but the label ‘clingy’ struck a nerve that he likely had no idea even existed. One that hadn’t existed until recently.

There was a conversation that you weren’t supposed to hear. It was Eddie, asking the kids if he had a chance - whether you and Steve were, you know, a thing - and their varying responses. He only asked because of how close you were, he explained, how often Steve had an arm around you or you clasped his hand in yours.

Someone, you didn’t catch who because the words rang harsh in your ears, dismissed his concerns with the dreaded refusal, “Just friends.” Though another followed it with, “I’d be annoyed if I were Steve. She’s always all over him and they’re not even dating. So clingy.”

Eddie laughed, as did the others, and you waited just beyond the door for a few moments to pretend that you hadn’t heard.

After, you tried to distance yourself, if only a little, without arousing Steve’s suspicions. Despite being called clueless, unobservant or even stupid, despite his difficulty connecting the dots, there was little about you that escaped his notice. It was difficult to create space when none had existed since you were children and, clearly, you hadn’t done a very good job, anyway.

“Yeah, well, I’ll unstick myself from your side.” You intended the quip to be teasing, a joke that earned you a laugh or a soft swat as you passed him by, but it came out wrong. The words were acidic, tasted bitter in the back of your throat as they rolled off your tongue, and you could see him wince from the sting of them as you stood from your chair. “I’m gonna go shower,” you deflected, unable to look at him. “Chlorine’s burning my eyes.”

Steve sat upright as you gathered your towel and discarded clothes, your empty soda can and the tube of tropical sunscreen. He stubbed out his cigarette and reached out, hand searching for yours and coming up empty for the first time in a long time.

“Wait,” he urged, rising to his feet as you busied yourself with removing any trace of your presence from the immediate vicinity. “Did I… what did I say? Whatever it was, I didn’t -“ His brows furrowed as he lifted the hand you avoided and carded it through his hair, sighing when you winced at the sound of his sunglasses clattering to the ground.

“You didn’t - it’s nothing.” Steve tipped his head, an attempt to catch your eye as you blinked back the stinging sensation - chlorine, really, and overwhelmed, traitorous tears. “Just tired.”

From the corner of your eye, you caught sight of his face. He wore a concerned frown, warm eyes raking over your form as he recounted the last few moments, before he winced. “Oh. Shit. Hey, you know I’m joking,” he insisted, taking a half-step closer. And when you took a full step back, he frozen, uncertain - unused to the distance. “I didn’t mean it like that. You know I love it when you’re close to me. It’s nice. I’m not - that was a shitty thing to say.”

“It’s okay.” You waved him off, a dismissive hand held aloft for a moment before dropping to hold your towel close to your chest, and hoped he believed the crack in your voice was from the yelling you’d done earlier in the day. “It’s true, ’s’what everyone thinks, anyway.”

“What?” He looked confused, frown deepening as he tried again. He took a cautious step to close some of the distance and lifted a hand to reach out for you before thinking better of it. His hand fell to his side and you clutched the material in your arms tight to your chest to keep from reaching out yourself. “No one thinks that.”

“They do,” you confessed, finally lifting your head to meet his gaze as you forced a laugh. “They think it’s weird and sad and annoying that I’m, like, all over you. They think I’m, like, obsessed or something.” The admission was uttered casually, as easily as you could manage when your heart felt as if it might beat out of your chest, and Steve took another tentative step forward.

“Who said that?”

Though it was phrased as a question, it came out a demand. His expression shifted, flickered from soft concern to annoyance - not at you, very rarely at you - as he waited.

“I overheard the kids joking about it,” you told him with a sigh. “And back when you were dating Nancy, Tommy and Carol said something. So did Billy. It didn’t bother me then ‘cause Tommy and Carol and Billy were morons, but now, well… Maybe they were right. I - I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so… attached.”

Steve stepped closer then, insistent despite your feeble attempt to keep the distance, and reached out for you. One warm, large hand fell to your waist, fingers finding bare skin still warm from the sun while the other cupped your cheek. He was patient, soft, as he encouraged you to meet his eyes once more.

“They were total morons. I’m honestly surprised they paid enough attention to someone else to notice,” he huffed, rolling his eyes at the memory of your former friends. “And the kids, they’re just kids. They don’t - don’t listen to them, alright. I don’t think you’re clingy or annoying or sad or anything else. I think you’re my best friend and I like being close to you.”

Though it brought you comfort to hear how adamantly he denied thinking you were clingy - how adamantly he denied finding your constant presence annoying - the reminder that he only saw you as a friend did little to ease the roiling in the pit of your stomach.

A fresh wave of traitorous tears stung at the backs of your eyes and you did your best to blink them away as you nodded. “Yeah,” you nodded, acknowledging him with a watery half-smile. “Okay.”

“Hey, I’m serious,” he asserted, dipping his head to search your face for the answer to a question he had yet to ask. “I want you close to me, like, all the time. Robin laughs at me but I don’t really know what to do when you’re not there. I like it when you hold my hand or sit on my lap. It… it makes me feel like you want me with you as much as I want to be with you.”

Though the lump in your throat persisted, though the tears still threatened to fall, you immediately reassured him. “Of course I want you to be with me. I love spending time with you.” You sighed, allowing yourself to melt into Steve’s touch. “It’s always been us.”

“Always has been, always will be,” he confirmed, smile soft but still a touch concerned. He hesitated for a moment, seeming to weigh his words for the first time in a long time, before he settled on asking, “What’s up, babe? Why’d it bother you so much?”

“It’s stupid.”

Immediately, Steve shook his head. He refused to allow you to wave it off, to dismiss the tease that clearly hurt your feelings, as his thumb stroked your cheek. “It’s not, not if it’s bothering you.”

“I just…” You inhaled sharply, eyes closing as you attempted to gather your thoughts. Though Steve’s closeness would’ve brought you comfort under ordinary circumstances, it made it difficult for you to concentrate as your heart began to beat a touch too fast. “Just been thinking,” you finally began, choosing your words carefully. “It was fine when we were kids but, I mean, we’re adults now. What happens when one of your dates pays off and you find someone to fall in love with? Don’t think she’ll be too happy with, you know, this. It’s not like we can cuddle on the couch or have sleepovers for the rest of our lives.”

Steve remained quiet for a long moment - a silence that stretched on forever, thick and suffocating - and you swallowed the emotion clumping in the back of your throat before opening your eyes. You were met with his warm gaze, soft brown eyes flickering with an emotion you couldn’t quite read as he took a half-step closer.

“What if… I mean, we could.” Two words, and you felt frozen in uncertainty. Everything around you, everything outside of Steve, ceased to exist. You could feel your heart thudding heavily in your chest, your breath caught in your throat as you waited for him to elaborate. “The dates,” he began, now looking as nervous as you felt, “none of them have felt right. They don’t feel like this, like us. They don’t make me feel like you do.”

For months, you’d dreamt that Steve felt the same way. You imagined that somewhere, beneath the fond smiles and teasing jabs lingered the same nerves, the same butterflies, the same all-encompassing love. You imagined that his head was full of the same ‘what-if’s’ as you shared his bed, the same hope that you’d share the same bed for the rest of your life. You dreamt that he would one day confess his love and end your hopeless attempt at getting over him.

But now that it seemed within your grasp, so close you could practically feel his heart beating just as erratically as your own, it felt too good to be true.

“What does that mean?”

The question came as a whisper, afraid that if you spoke too loud you might break whatever spell had been cast over the backyard, but Steve heard it clearly. He met it with a half-smile as the hand on your hip began to trace nonsensical patterns across your skin - a nervous habit that made you feel as if your skin was on fire.

“Means that I want to keep holding your hand and having sleepovers,” he elaborated, voice soft in the still of the night. “Means that I… I don’t want to keep going on dates with anyone but you. Every time I think about the future, it changes - what I’m doing, where I live. But you’re always there and that’s all I want. I’ve been trying to pretend like I’m not in love with you but I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

Steve’s confession rang in your ears, crashed over you like a tidal wave, and left you unable to speak - unable to breathe. He waited, patient, understanding, as your racing thoughts scrambled in search of something coherent. But when you failed to gather anything resembling a complete sentence, you decided to allow your actions to speak for you.

In the way that you’d started to imagine as you drifted off to sleep, you dropped the items in your arms and lifted your hands to tangle in his hair to pull him in close. He smelled of summer - cigarettes, cheap beer, artificial coconut and chlorine - and something so unerringly Steve that you suddenly couldn’t imagine being this close to anyone else.

The hand on your cheek was encouraging, soft and warm as he tipped your chin, and you gave in to the urge you’d been fighting. With one step, you pressed yourself close - your chest meeting his, the warmth of his bare skin setting your nerve endings alight - and pressed your mouth to his.

Despite your expectations, there were no fireworks, no sparks or heavenly choirs, but there was an instant sense of comfort. Kissing Steve felt like coming home, warm and easy, as if you’d done it a thousand times before.

There was no awkward shuffling, no tentative brushes of uncertain lips. Instead, you moved together seamlessly. His body slotted against yours perfectly, fit exactly as if you belonged there - together, intertwined. His lips were soft, as plush as you’d imagined, and his skin was so warm that you wondered if you would be branded with his touch before the night was over.

Though your fantasies varied - desperate kisses, eager to make up for lost time; filthy ones, a mess of lips and tongues and teeth, as you swapped spit and stumbled down a dark hallway toward his bedroom; soft kisses, designed to convey years of unspoken feelings - this kiss destroyed them all.

It was soft, slow and eager as you sought to become acquainted with the taste of one another, and laced with the underlying promise of a beautiful future.

Steve’s touch was eager, unrestrained and achingly familiar, as he held you close and swallowed the soft noises you made. Every breathless gasp and quiet sigh of pleasure, was met with a hum of his own as he slipped the hand on your cheek to the back of your neck.

Neither of you wanted the kiss to end, content to breathe in one another until your lungs collapsed, but the lack of oxygen and the reality of the situation had you feeling dizzy enough to break away. But as close as you’d always been, Steve kept you pressed tight to his body and rested his forehead against yours.

“Taking that to mean you’re in love with me, too,” he teased, breathless as he searched your face for any sign of regret, of hesitance. When he found none, he smiled - bright, happy, easy. “Totally not cool of me to admit, but I’ve wanted to do that forever.”

“You’ve never been cool, Stevie,” you returned, giggling as he pinched your side.

“Was gonna be nice,” he huffed, pretending to be put out though his grin never faltered as he shifted his head, brushed his nose against yours. “Tell you how pretty I think you are, how I want to spend the rest of my life with you; all that mushy stuff. But since you wanna be mean…”

Before you could blink, giggle out a teasing apology for your perceived slight, Steve’s arms fell to your waist. He held you close, lifted easily, and carried you the few steps to the edge of the pool. The moment you realized his intentions, the moment you opened your mouth to squeal out a plea for him to stop, Steve stepped over the edge and plunged you both into the water.

Even as you fell, sinking into the deep end, Steve kept you close. He hauled you both back up above the water, laughing as you huffed - thankfully used to this, almost expecting it as he attempted it every year.

“Steve!”

“What?” He grinned, dark hair dripping into his eyes as he guided you both into a more manageable depth and encouraged you to wrap your legs around his waist. “All this could’ve been avoided if you’d just been nice to me,” he reasoned.

“I’m always nice to you, Stevie.” You weren’t - your friendship was an equal mixture of soft encouragement, soft words and even softer touches, and teasing jabs - but Steve hummed, just the same. “But I can be even nicer.”

“Know what would be really nice?” When you hummed, Steve returned a hand to cup your cheek - tipping your head to meet your eyes, only a hint of insecurity swirling amongst the warm, soft brown. “Telling me I’m not getting all this wrong. I… I know I don’t always get it,” he acknowledged, swallowing thickly, “but I… I get this, right?”

“Oh, Steve. The reason I got so freaked out about the clingy thing,” you began, lifting your hands to brush the damp hair from his forehead, “was because I was afraid you’d see it, how in love I am. I… I’ve been in love with you for a while. You’re it for me, Harrington.”

Steve grinned, then, relieved - elated, clearly brimming with joy at the revelation - and leaned forward to close the gap. The press of his mouth to yours was eager, firm, and relieved some of the ache in your chest, the fear that this was something you’d dreamt up, too good to be true. He crowded you against the wall, body caging you in as his tongue traced the seam of your lips, and you sighed as you tangled your fingers in his hair.

Though the pool water was cool, the press of Steve’s body against yours had you melting. He always ran warm, left you blistering in the wake of his hands exploring your skin, and you felt your heart hammering in your chest as his fingers mapped the slivers of skin he’d only held through fabric.

“Babe,” he breathed, mouth barely parted from yours as you shifted your hips, “don’t wanna do this in the pool. Not the first time. Let me take you inside.”

The urgency in his tone drew a soft moan from you, eager to feel his touch and touch him in return. “Please. Waited so long, don’t wanna wait anymore.”

Desperation, eager and hurried, that had lingered beneath the surface of the entire encounter - a desire to give in, finally, after waiting for so long - showed clearly as you both rushed out of the pool. Steve remained close to you, one hand on your hip even as you both roughly toweled off, and ushered you into the house.

The Harrington house was as familiar to you as your own. It was a space you could navigate with your eyes closed, under the worst circumstances, and you were grateful for the knowledge as you and Steve rushed up the stairs to his bedroom without pause.

As many times as you’d stepped foot in Steve’s room, as many nights as you’d spent wrapped in his sheets, there was an understandable difference in this moment. The tension was palpable and, despite how eager you both were, you both faltered for a moment as the door clicked shut behind you.

“This… we don’t have to do anything,” he began, stepping close, his palm warm against your waist. “We can just shower, maybe watch a movie or something before bed.”

Again, rather than fumbling for a coherent sentence - attempting to make sense of the thoughts that remained scrambled in your brain - you reached out for him. Steve sighed as your fingers tangled in his hair and tugged, eyes blazing with a heat that made your head spin, and you almost hated to lose the sight of his parted lips and lust blown eyes as your mouth pressed to his.

Steve’s hands began to wander, fingers mapping your skin in a desperate bid to commit it all to memory, as he walked you backwards. The plush of his bed hit the back of your knees, duvet soft, and he followed you down easily. With a knee pressed into the mattress beside your hip, a hand beside your head, Steve hovered above you, mouth never leaving yours.

While his fingers traced the skin of your stomach, your hips, your shoulders, your thighs, you brought your own to his chest. You raked your nails over his exposed skin, committing the warmth of him to memory, as he broke the kiss to lavish your neck with attention.

As he nosed at your jaw, lips pressing fleeting kisses to your skin, his hand fell to your breast, eagerly cupping the soft flesh over the damp material of your swimsuit.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he breathed, reverence lacing his tone as his hand flexed. “So warm, so soft. Smell nice.”

“It’s the sunscreen,” you gasped, words pitching higher as his lips latched onto the spot just beneath your ear. “You should try it.”

“Mm. You can put some on me tomorrow,” he offered, tongue darting out to soothe spot he’d nipped.

The promise was laced with an eager desire that had your hands wandering, nails raking over the trail of hair dipping into the band of his trunks, and you could feel the contraction of his stomach as he inhaled sharply. You knew that you tasted of chlorine and chemicals, of summer, but Steve didn’t seem to mind as he continued pressing open-mouthed kisses to your skin.

Eagerly, he began to dip lower, his lips exploring your heated skin and leaving a trail of fire in his wake. Every touch was electric, sent a shockwave through your system and left your chest aching with a warmth that you hoped would never cool. You could feel the arousal pooling in the pit of your stomach, gathering slick between your thighs, as Steve nipped at the skin of your chest.

Skilled hands made quick work of the fabric covering your chest, easily ridding you of the damp suit without lifting his head from your skin, and you felt your breath catch in your throat as Steve began to make his way down. He nipped at the delicate skin of your chest, stubble scraping your skin in the most delicious way as he shifted to free his hands.

As Steve’s hands shifted, cupped your breasts and hummed, your own hand dipped beneath the band of his trunks. Your fingers brushed the warm skin, reveling in the stuttering breath Steve released, even as his own hands began to trail downward.

“Always pretty,” he complimented, voice rough as he began to follow the path blazed by his hands, pressing kisses down your chest and stomach. “But this,” he hummed, grinning when you whined as he moved out of reach, “too fuckin’ pretty. Not fair.”

“You’re one to talk.” It was breathless, a gasp that escaped as his lips latched onto a patch of skin near your hip, and Steve grinned. “You’re so beautiful, Stevie. ’S’distracting.”

Steve continued to sink lower, mouth blazing a devastating path across your skin, as his hands fell to the plush of your thighs. He spread them easily, settled between them, and glanced up at you from near the foot of his bed with a devilish smirk that reminded you of the days of King Steve - handsome, flirty, charming.

“How’ve we never done this before?” His hands drifted closer to your aching cunt, so close to where you desperately wanted him yet so far away as his mouth pressed to your inner thigh. “Wanna spend the rest of my life here.”

“Haven’t even got my bathing suit off,” you teased, though it was weak - wrecked, already so entirely destroyed for him. But Steve took it as a challenge.

Almost immediately, Steve’s hands slipped beneath the band of your bottoms and tugged, easily working the damp fabric down your thighs. The moment they were gone, tossed across the room to be found later, he settled back between them and grinned.

Before you could tease, make a joke about him being eager, Steve’s hands shifted exactly where you wanted them. Warm fingers swiped at your slick folds, gathered the evidence of your arousal easily, before they lifted to his waiting mouth. Your lungs constricted and breathing felt impossible as you watched him lap at the slick, an exaggerated moan leaving his lips as he pulled them free with a wink.

“Knew you’d taste amazing,” he complimented, dipping his head to nip at your inner thigh.

Steve nosed at the juncture of your thigh as his fingers returned to your folds and you could feel his triumphant grin when you gasped as his thumb found your clit. But he didn’t allow you time to speak as he dipped his head and licked a stripe along your slit.

Large hands found your thighs, fingers digging into the plush skin to keep you spread open as he lapped at you. There was no tentative tasting, no hesitant swipe of his tongue; Steve ate you like a man starved.

Those plush lips wrapped around your clit, eagerly tasting all you had to give, as his fingers returned to your puffy folds. He swiped them through your slick, gathered it on his fingers, before pressing them into you and working to open you up.

“You’re,” a gasp interrupted you, stole your breathe as Steve glanced up at you from between your thighs - his shoulders keeping you spread open, hair caught between your fingers. “Fuck, Stevie, you’re good at that.”

Steve preened under the praise, lashes fluttering at that and the combination of your fingers yanking at his hair, as his fingers - longer, thicker than yours; easily pressing into the spaces you could never quite reach - sank deeper into you.

As desperate as you were to feel him, to have him push you over the edge, this wasn’t the way you wanted to go. You wanted to feel him, to feel his weight pressing you into the mattress as his lips met yours, and you told him as much as you tugged at his hair.

“Wanna feel you, Stevie, please,” you begged, stomach tight and chest aching as you desperately sought to catch your breath.

“Fuck.” Steve’s forehead pressed to your thigh, warm breath fanning over your sticky skin. “Wanted to hear you say that forever,” he admitted, eagerly clambering up to shove his trunks down his hips.

As Steve shoved his swim trunks down, you tipped your head - eager to see if the rumors were true. And just as you’d heard, Steve was larger than you ever could’ve imagined. He was bigger than anyone you’d been with, bigger than anything you’d seen, and you couldn’t help yourself as you reached out to touch him.

The tip was an angry red, dripping precum, and Steve swore as your thumb brushed at the pearly bead. “Fuck, you’re so big,” you whined, wondering how he would fit - eagerly anticipating the stretch of him.

“Can’t say shit like that,” he huffed, laughing - pink cheeks blazing, embarrassed and secretly pleased at the attention - as he settled above you. “Ego’s already too big,” he teased.

“Not the only thing,” you returned, grinning when he laughed, fingers dipping between your thighs. “Fuck me, Stevie, please.”

“Anything you want,” he promised, hand wrapping around the base of his cock and guiding it to your puffy folds. He dragged the head through the slick, both of you moaning at the contact, before he notched the head at your entrance and pressed forward.

The stretch of him was delicious, too much and not enough all at once, and you swore you could feel him in the back of your throat as he sank into you. He went slow, careful, eager not to hurt you, but with every inch he sank forward, you were desperate to feel him fully.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Steve was pressed fully into you. It was overwhelming, being so impossibly close to him - completely intertwined, bodies as one - and all you could do was pull him into a searing kiss.

The kiss was a mess, a clash of tongue and teeth, uncoordinated but so satisfying as his hand gripped your hip. You could feel him surrounding you, all-encompassing, and you never wanted the moment to end.

Even as his hips began to snap, his rhythm steady, deep, you struggled to catch your breath - to care about anything other than the warmth of his skin against yours, the scent of him, the weight of him over you. The only thing you could say was his name, repeated like a prayer as his thumb found your clit and his lips remained just inches from your own.

Steve was all that existed, all that had ever existed, and suddenly the future was bright. There was hope, an eager desire to spend the rest of your life here - in this moment, with Steve pressed close - and you couldn’t help but whimper out a desperate, “I love you,” as you felt yourself barreling toward the edge.

The words were returned in a reverent chant, equally desperate, as you felt his hips begin to stutter. You were both nearly there, just a few presses of his hips - another swipe of his thumb, another press of his mouth to your heated skin - and you were careening over the edge with Steve following shortly after.

Warmth flooded your veins, his spend filling you so completely, and his lips sought yours despite your shared inability to regain your breath. It didn’t matter, not when all that existed was this moment, and you didn’t care that Steve’s weight had fallen to press you deeper into the mattress.

For a few long moments, you both lay there - gasping, fighting to catch your breath and return to the moment at hand - before Steve pulled away just enough to settle at your side. There was no distance left between you, slick skin pressed together, and you would’ve been content to lie there forever.

Steve, it seemed, felt the same as he settled into the pillow and leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead.

Though the afternoon began with a fear that Steve would see you as clingy, that he would never love you in the way you loved him, you were ending the night in the only place you wanted to be; clinging to your boyfriend, sated and happy and looking forward to the future for the first time in a long time.

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Author's Note: This was inspired by a sunscreen, believe it or not. Don't know how we got here but it was a fun journey.

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#steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #stranger things smut #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #steve harrington fic #stranger things fic #steve harrington x you #v's fics

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gdjyho · 2 months

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PILLOWTALK

synopsis ; a late night , much needed, hot fück session. pure smut.

pairing ; jungkook x f!reader

warnings ; s€xual content, slapping [face and ass], crying, big d!ck jk, choking, unprotected, mentions of smoking, not really proofread, lemme know if there’s any more.

i love to hold close, tonight and always…

his doe eyes pierce right through yours, stare feeling as if it’s entering your soul. your mouth lays slightly ajar. your lips and tongue get drier by what feel is like the second. jungkook’s slender fingers snake around your battered neck and your head rests against the head board slightly leant back.

he grins ever so slightly before soaking your lips with his own spit. before you get a chance to react, his lips are smashed on yours and moving in all sorts of directions. your chests stick together and your rise up to claw at each others’ sweat clad necks. “ you’re always so good f’me” he whispers out.

jungkook roughly grips your shoulders, easily flipping your on top without breaking the intimate eye contact shared between the two of you. you feel the oxygen seep back into your lungs like a sponge from the release of your neck. in the silence of the room, he enters you with no words. his cock mauls your gummy walls as he navigates your sweet spot.

So we'll piss off the neighbors…

you fail to let out any words at the pleasure your receiving. in doing so, your whimper and moan along with a whole other string of sounds. you begin to move up and down on jungkook’s abdomen as the biting pain of his length subsides. you let out even more pornographic moans which make a melody with the sound of your crotches meeting and tearing away.

you lean down to kiss his mole under his soaked bottom lip. he kisses your forehead and praises you simultaneously. your eyes clasp shut as your brain digs up from the ecstasy jungkook gives you. it’s indescribable how deeply far in you are for the man under your body.

“you’re fucking me so good!” you tell him. the smell of the room, all stuffy drives jungkook insane. he begins to attack your neck and your back forms a snake shape and your hips move round. his dick stuffs your to the brim, forming a visible lump in your tummy. he chuckles, prodding the hill he’s made. your toes curl as you feel your climax.

you fight it, wanting him to fill you up first. his face scrunches up into and unreadable expression. he’s gonna fill me up you think. you chuckle slightly, finally getting the sweet release you’ve needed from him. you grip his sleeve of tattoos tightly, as your tight hole reaches max capacity.

in the place that feels the tears..

your eyes well up like swimming pools as his cum slides around inside of you. you grind your hips harder on him insatiably. you throw your head back and groan as he does. you emotionally give yourself up to him, submitting yourself to jungkook and become completely vunerable.

“ahhhhh princess look at you milking me” he sort of slurs out, being drunk on pleasure and your mixed juices. he slowly and dreadfully pulls out and places you on your side of the bed. he gets up and strides along to your en suite. your smile as you get the perfect view of his god-sent ass.

after some cluttering is heard and cupboards close, he walks out and reaches for his black calvin klein briefs. he slips back next to you, creating a dip in the bed. he toys at your bangs, swirling and twisting what’s not dampened by sweat. “oh baby. if only you knew how cute you were”

he grabs his phone from the low nightstand and steals a picture of you and fucked out and cheesing at the camera while trying to grab his phone from him. “jungkook !” you laugh out, while he pins your hands back down. he laughs at his ability to easily control and power over you.

yeah, reckless behavior

he pecks you before getting up and lighting stray cigarette from the nightstand and placing it in between his lips. jungkook has to flick the lighter a few times before managing to make a spark. he inhales before blowing out a pillar of fog into the room. you pinch it out from between his lips and place the dampened stick between your lips.

it swirls around in your lungs for a short amount of time before you let the air loose. he opens the window, letting the various smells exit the room. you get up and move closer to him. you step infront of jungkook and he sneaks his hands around your waist. his lips meet your neck softly and withdraw along with a sloppy trail. you sigh in satisfaction.

it’s our paradise and it's our war zone.

- quickly crafted this one. 😶

#jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #bts #bts smut #bts x reader #kpop #smutty #jungkook oneshot #smut #foryopage #pillow talk

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cloudzoro · 3 months

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Zoro says ‘Scars on the back are a swordsman's shame,’ but that doesn't apply to you.

Zoro is obsessed with you leaving scratches on his back. The stinging of your nails on his back has him growling in your ear as he thrusts into you harder. The way you claw at his shoulders lets him know he's fucking you good. It's also a subtle act of possession, marking him as yours. He understands that you're his, and he's yours, but there's something about a physical reminder that gets him hot and bothered. Heart and soul, you own him.

Sometimes you apologise for leaving marks, but you're always met with a shake of his head and him telling you not to apologise because he loves the feeling of your nails scraping his back.

He works out, shirtless, on the deck every morning. Sanji walks out, and the smile on his face drops when he notices the red marks decorating Zoro's muscles. He knows Sanji likes you - who doesn't? - so, any chance to show off that you chose him gives him an ego boost.

“Woah, Zoro, you look like a wild animal has mauled you”, says Usopp. There's not a single shred of shame on Zoro's face when he simply flexes his muscles and goes back to working out.

When the lines start to fade, he insists that you have to do it again, to make sure they don't fade. He feels that being in your presence makes him lose all sense.

“let me fuck you, baby” he says, he pins you against a wall. “I want you to leave your mark on me as I stretch this pretty pussy out.” He pushes his cock onto you and you arch into him, with nowhere to put your hands. You do as he asks and reach over his shoulders, sinking your nails into the back of his shoulders. The groan that leaves him is deep and makes you clench around him. “that's my girl”

He wears your marks with pride, as if they're honourable battle wounds.

#zoro smut #zoro x reader #zoro x reader smut #fem reader #fem!reader #one piece smut #one piece x reader #☁️.onepiece #☁️.smut #☁️.zoro

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david-talks-sw · 8 months

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Dooku didn't leave because of the Jedi.

At least, if you're going by George Lucas' word.

In deleted scenes of Attack of the Clones, when we learn about Dooku's departure and his values, there's no mention of the Jedi or "the Jedi Order as an institution".

And every time Lucas refers to Dooku's disenchantment and reason for falling, he doesn't mention the Jedi.

"When you realize that Dooku is Darth Tyranus, it explains what Darth Sidious did after Darth Maul was killed: he seduced a Jedi who had become disenchanted with the Republic. He preyed on that disenchantment and converted him to the dark side, which is also a setup for what happens with Anakin." - Mythmaking: Behind the Scenes of Attack of the Clones, 2002

"[Dooku is] one of the few Jedi who became disenchanted with the Republic and left the order and he is leading a separatist movement." - Vanity Fair, 2002

"I wanted a more sophisticated kind of villain. Dooku’s disenchantment with the corruption in the Empire is actually valid. It’s all valid. So, Chris plays it as, 'Is he really a villain or is he just someone who is disenchanted and trying to make things right?'" - Starlog Magazine #300, 2002

He probably meant the Republic/Senate in that last one, but you get the point. And you're seeing the pattern, right?

Dooku's problem isn't the Jedi, it's the Republic.

He's become disenchanted with a system that - according to Lucas' prologue in the 2004 book Shatterpoint - worked for 1,000 years...

"For a thousand years, the Old Republic prospered and grew under the wise rule of the Senate and the protection of the venerable Jedi Knights."

... but has been rendered ineffective because of 1) senators becoming corrupt and 2) corporations gaining political power.

"But as often happens when wealth and power grow beyond all reasonable proportion, an evil fueled by greed arose. The massive organs of commerce mushroomed in power, the Senate became corrupt, and an ambitious named Palpatine was voted Supreme Chancellor."

That's the message Dooku runs on, when he rallies the systems to form the Separatist Alliance.

"By promising an alternative to the corruption and greed that was rotting the Republic from within, Dooku was able to persuade thousands of star systems to secede from the Republic."

The Jedi aren't really a factor in his decision to leave.

Why would they be? Their political status isn't very high, they're virtually powerless, as illustrated by the film's narrative and stated repeatedly by Lucas.

On the contrary, as we already established in this post, Lucas full-on confirmed that Dooku actually carries the sympathies of most of the Jedi. Again:

Most Jedi agree with Dooku, ideologically.

As far as the Jedi are concerned, the politicians are effing up the Republic, and it sucks because the Jedi see this but aren't allowed to interfere in the political process. They have to resort to looking for loopholes in their mandates to actually get stuff done.

That's what that whole "she's a politician" scene is meant to hint at. In the commentary of Attack of the Clones, Lucas uses a similar turn of phrase as he does with Dooku.

"[This scene gives us] a chance to talk a little bit about politics and the Jedi’s disenchantment with the political process, due to the corruption and the ineffectiveness of the Senate." - Attack of the Clones, Director’s Commentary, 2002

Considering all this, it becomes clear that the intended narrative surrounding Dooku's decision to leave the Order is not:

"The Jedi are dogmatic and asleep at the wheel except for Dooku, who is ahead of the curb and sees the system is flawed, so he left."

It's actually:

"ALL Jedi see the system is flawed, Dooku's the only Jedi who decided to take it a step further and leave the Order so he can try to get into politics himself and change things."

That's why they hesitate to accuse him of murder.

That's why in an earlier draft of the Attack of the Clones script, by the end of the second act, Mace STILL has his doubts that Dooku would sign a treaty with the Trade Federation to attack the Republic.

As far as the Jedi are concerned, Dooku is out there fighting the good fight, making noise because whenever they try to protest it falls on deaf ears... until his betrayal on Geonosis.

After all, let's not get it twisted: the Dooku we're introduced to in the films and The Clone Wars, isn't really just Dooku anymore.

He's Darth Tyranus.

A point Lucas makes sure to highlight in his Shatterpoint prologue:

"Unbeknownst to most of his followers, Dooku was himself a Dark Lord of the Sith, acting in collusion with his master, Darth Sidious, who, over the years, had struck an unholy alliance with the greater forces of commerce and their private droid armies."

It's not about doing the selfless thing for Dooku, anymore. He's knowingly part of the problem.

He's all about ambition, now. His personal goals are things like overthrowing Sidious and becoming the most powerful Jedi.

"[Anakin's] ambition and his dialogue here is the same as Dooku’s. He says “I will become more powerful than every Jedi.” And you’ll hear later on Dooku will say “I have become more powerful than any Jedi.” [...] It is possible for a Jedi to want to become more powerful, and control things." - Attack of the Clones, Director’s Commentary, 2002

"If you put two Sith together, they try to get others to join them to get rid of the other Sith. [When revealing the truth to Obi-Wan], Dooku's ambition is really to get rid of Darth Sidious. He's trying to get Obi-Wan's assistance in that and help in that, so that he and Obi-Wan could overthrow Sidious and take over." - Attack of the Clones, Commentary Track 2, 2002

Y'know? Selfish things.

Dooku - like all other Sith, and like the very corporations and Senators he had sworn to destroy - is consumed by his own greed.

#also functionally-speaking Dooku being a Jedi is done to highlight the ambiguity throughout the investigation on whether or not this is #a scorned ex-Jedi or a straight-up bad guy... you're never sure until the end of AOTC. That and Dooku being a former Jedi shows that #even someone who was once selfless and dutiful can crave power and be selfish #which sets up a precedent for Anakin - who's already struggling with being a selfless Jedi - when HE falls to the Dark Side #Dooku being a former Jedi isn't a plot point meant to narratively criticise of the Order... it's meant to hint at Anakin's downfall.#dooku #george lucas #star wars #attack of the clones #long post #collection of quotes

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gremlingottoosilly · 4 days

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bouncer könig would be an absolute powerhouse and nightmare to get rid of. you’re just some poor girl trying to dance with your besties but can’t help but notice the pair of eyes staring you down from across the room, and mysteriously no men are approaching you.

You know these extremely closed and secret German parties that are only open if the stars are aligned, and you have better chances of getting into Harward than partying in one of those clubs? Yeah, Konig got himself a sweet hustle being a bouncer in one of those, but in Vienna. He gets to maul some dumb college kids, get some free molly whenever some of the richer party-goers are feeling high and charitable, and have something to do between deployments. He cracks his knuckles after getting some rowdier guy out of the venue, and then his eyes fall on you. You're cute, trying a bit too much, and obviously uncomfortable - probably your first night out, and he can sense that you're not going to have fun in the overcrowded techno party where half of the people are trying too hard, and the other half is already high off their heels despite no drug policy. On a normal night, he wouldn't let you in - you're going to be a miserable fill of space for an hour or maybe more and leave with the worst night of your life and disappointed friends. However, it is kind of a slow night, and it's almost end of his shift. He can indulge himself a little. Setting a rift between you and your friend group - apologizing before you for letting them in before you. Saying something about the club being overcrowded already and that he didn't even notice you at first. You'll come inside as soon as someone else leaves - and you can even chat with him a bit since you're in such close proximity. You look nervous, uncertain. You look really fucking tasty. He drops his hand over your hip in a lazy manner, squeezing the material of that dumb cocktail dress you wore. He can forbid you from entering right here because of the fucking dress - you're trying too much, this is not a school party, and you're obviously not comfortable enough in heels to even dance if he does let you in, but he is charitable today. You're allowed in after he thoroughly squeezes your thighs and pats you on your ass in a poor attempt at trying to check out if you have anything hidden - and after he takes away your phone. House policy, he says. You don't dare to question it, eager to meet up with your friends. Konig watches you dancing, the way your ass moves in that tight dress - god, the outfit might be too much for a house music party, but he loves seeing a pretty thing like you. No one dares to get close once they see the line of his sight, and even the bartender knowingly nods, giving you some free shots in preparation to be taken home by the bouncer. Everyone is in on the game - Konig isn't the one to abandon a toy once he set his eyes on it, so you can be sure that he will drag you out of the club by the end of his shift...and you're going to be his pretty thing for the rest of the night - a all foreseeable future.

#cod #konig x reader #konig #yandere konig #cod x reader #yandere cod

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zer0pm · 11 months

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Imagine somehow finding yourself in the arms of Leon and Luis in the most inopportune times.

“Yeah, no. I don’t know about this, guys.”

“It’s not that big of a drop. You can do this.”

“Easy for you to say, Leon!”

“Calma, my fine friend. Just close your eyes and remember not to lock your knees.”

“Luis, you are not helping.”

You turn your head at the sound of shouting. Further in the distance, a mob of plaga-infected cultists are sprinting towards you three with torches and pitchforks.

Luis walks forward, waving at you to move. “Go! I’ll take care of them.” Not giving you a chance to protest against this reckless idea, the Spaniard bravely rushes straight at the mob with a stack of dynamite in hand.

Seeing no other option, you approach the edge of the cliff. Just seeing how high up you are and how low the lower ground is was enough to make you hesitate and quake in your shoes. The fear of hurting yourself in the fall outweighing your fear of being mauled to pieces by angry villagers.

“I-I… I can’t-”

BOOM!

The thunderous blast along with the violent tremors beneath your feet shocks you so terribly that you practically leap off the rocky edge with a horrified scream. You realize then that you didn’t position yourself properly. You were free falling with your head facing the sky, hurdling towards the ground without any means to cushion your landing. Anticipating great pain, your eyes shut tight. An involuntary, terror-stricken yelp escapes you when you no longer felt the rush of wind, awaiting your back to harshly collide with the hard ground.

The pain doesn’t come. You didn’t feel any dirt and grovel, but still felt yourself pressed against something hard and firm. You are also suspended, to your surprise, your weight supported by a steady hold beneath your shoulders and knees.

A husky voice calls out to you. “You okay?”

You didn’t realize that you still had your eyes closed, opening them to see a familiar blond gazing down at you. The icy color in his eyes flash with genuine concern. Piecing together that Leon broke your fall by catching you in his arms, your cheeks burn a tinge of pink that does not go unnoticed.

The agent throws you a small grin at your silence, “I’ll take that as a yes. Don’t worry, not going to let anything happen to you. I got your back. Literally.”

There is an unmistakable warmth in his expression, a magnetic glint in his eyes that you couldn’t tear yourself away from. Your mouth opens, but nothing comes out. You want to thank him but found yourself at a loss for words. Leon’s gaze switches from your eyes to your mouth then, bright blues lingering. The way he is looking at you, it is like he is placed in a trance. Whether it was done purposefully or he was subconsciously driven to readjust your weight in his hands, the man tightens his hold on you, bringing your chests tightly together.

His lips open slightly, mimicking yours, and it is then did you notice just how close your faces are. You feel yourself falling under the same spell, your senses becoming dizzy from his musky scent and it is as if his entire being is enveloping you. In a way, you are completely surrounded by him. And he seems to be moving closer to you yet, his lips slowly inching forward…

“¡Oye, Yanqui!” Both of you look up in alarm to see Luis yelling, the dark-haired man still at the top of the cliff above. It seems the mob that was pursuing you three no longer posed as a danger as you didn’t hear or see any furious monsters behind him. Luis must have also been observing the interaction between you two as he had an amused expression on his rugged face. You almost swore that you can see a bit of green in his grey eyes. “What about me?”

Leon merely gives the Spaniard a deadpan look. “What about you?”

Luis rolls his eyes, gesturing with arms wide as if what he was hinting towards is obvious. “Would be nice to have a certain Prince Charming break my fall too.”

The blond scoffs. “Sucks to be you,” he retorts, promptly walking the other direction and purposefully moving further away from the cliffside.

You watch intently as Luis’ shoulders slump, the man visibly heaving a deep, defeated sigh before analyzing the height of the drop. He jumps off with a running start and a worried gasp rips from your throat when he doesn’t stick the landing, tumbling about in a not-so-graceful fashion before finally coming to a rest on his side. Your ears pick up the Spaniard groaning curses in his native tongue.

“I think Luis hurt himself,” you comment aloud.

Leon doesn’t bother looking back, his steps maintaing a brisk pace. “Don’t worry about him, he’ll be fine.”

The desire to argue with the blond about this was strong, but was quickly dismissed when you spot Luis rising back up to a stand and dusting off his pants. He seemed none the worse for wear. You sigh, a relieved smile easing onto your lips. It drops when you finally register that you are still being carried.

“Uh… Leon?”

The stoic agent acknowledges you with a hum.

“…Think you can put me down?”

You guess that Leon didn’t realize that he was holding you longer than necessary either, the tips of his ears a deep red as he hurriedly helps you back on your feet. He utters an embarrassed apology almost too low for you to hear and you give him a shy thanks in turn, casting your eyes to the ground so that he wouldn’t see your blush blooming again. You didn’t catch the way he beheld you then.

Fortunately, the awkward moment disperses before it could permeate.

Unfortunately, it is because of a gargantuan monster bursting out from seemingly within the mountainside. Upon seeing the three of you, it releases a terrible roar that shakes the very air.

“¡Gigante! Run, amigos!” Luis shouts, catching up to you and Leon. Without warning, he grabs you by the hand and pulls you close behind him as he sprints away.

The giant plaga chases you all through the area for what seems like an eternity. After some time, you feel your lungs and legs start to give out, your feet staggering with each step. Sensing you struggle to keep up the pace, the Spaniard stops abruptly.

You heave with ragged breath, “Luis, we can’t stop-”

He wordlessly sweeps you into his arms with a strength that astounds you. At your surprised expression, the dark-haired man flashes you a toothy grin before running off again with the same quickness he had before. Not once did he stumble or falter.

If the situation wasn’t so dire, you would have berated Luis for his arrogance and him taking on the burden of literally carrying your weight without so much as giving you a say in the matter. However, you were too exhausted to argue. This moment of respite was not relished for very long, though, as the two of you come to a sudden stop once again. The two of you are overlooking yet another high cliff.

You groan in tired exasperation. “You have got to be kidding me!”

Panic grips at your heart, you glance over Luis’ broad shoulder with fearful eyes to see if the monster is still in pursuit. To your astonishment, you see the large beast distracted in one spot several paces away. Distracted by a certain blond who was firing at it relentlessly. Leon was unleashing hell upon the plaga without fear, but the shells seem to only bounce off its hard skin. Despite how ineffective the attacks appear, it is apparently enough to hold the giant’s attention. For how long, you were loathe to find out.

Catching you staring, Leon yells over the gunfire. “What are you two waiting for? Jump!”

Jump?!

You peek back over the edge. There’s a body of water below and terror-filled thoughts ran frantically in your hyperactive mind.

Are the waters shallow? Are they deep? You swear that you can see sharp rocks too. There’s no way any of you can do this and live to tell the tale.

A firm squeeze on your side pulls you from the depths of your increasing panic. You turn your head to see Luis smiling patiently. It is not the playful smirk he often wears but rather it is one that offered nothing but sincere reassurance.

Luis speaks up softly, the seriousness in his thick accent even and irrefutable, “My friend, do you trust me?”

His question didn’t need an answer. You knew what he was implying. And although you were scared out of your wits, you found comfort in Luis’ confidence. There is an unwavering determination is his grey gaze, a silent promise that your safety is assured with him.

His bright smile widens at the sight of your nod and he returns it with one of his own. “Hold onto me.”

You follow his order, wrapping your arms tight around his neck. For the second time, you shut your eyes, bracing for another long fall.

A moment passes.

Two.

Nothing.

You don’t hear yourself being carried further away from the sound of Leon’s gunshots. You don’t feel the rush of wind against your face or your body and clothes submerged in water. Overwhelmed with curiosity, you open your eyes and discover Luis still staring down at you. There is an intense emotion in his silver gaze that you couldn’t place.

“Luis, what’s happening? What’s wrong?”

He tilts his head. “Nada. Was just thinking that at a time like this,” he begins to say slowly, the tone of his voice dropping to depths that sent flutters into your heart, “we could use a bit of good luck. A favor shared between a knight and his intended. What do you say?”

You were going to ask what he was going on about, but the question becomes stuck in your throat when you see his face dip down to yours. Your noses bump at the tips and he inches closer still. You didn’t realize you stopped breathing until your lungs forced you to suck in much needed air, the taste of his breath warm upon your tongue.

Your heart was pounding loudly against your chest, blood pumping through your veins so fiercely that you thought you would faint right then and there. Your mind becomes totally blank and all you can process is the faint brush of Luis’ lips…

Bump!

“Ugh-!”

“Ahhhhh!!”

The sudden jolt of your body rushing forward brings you back to awareness. You’re falling. Again! But it isn’t you that is screaming now. It’s Luis. He’s falling next to you. In the corner of your eye, you catch a pair of gloved hands grasping on both of your forearms.

Three bodies plunge into the chilly waters. You were flailing about, unable to regain equilibrium, and you thought for certain that you were going to drown. But luck was on your side yet again as you’re pulled to the open surface by strong hands on your person. Sweet air then returns to your lungs.

“¡Loco hijo de puta! Were you trying to kill us?!”

“Don’t give me that, I told you two to jump.”

Leon and Luis already had their heads above the water by the time you regained your wits, the two of them arguing back and forth. You tuned out their squabble in favor of searching for the gigante. The monster peering down high above. With a furious roar, it retreats back from whence it came, leaving you three alone for good, and relief washes over you. Looking around, your eyes then find a stretch of land that the three of you could swim towards. You made a move to start paddling to safety, not wanting to linger in case there were more terrors treading about below. Or at least you tried to.

You couldn’t move. Your body was quite literally pressed in between the two men. Their arms circled around you, keeping you afloat and securely in place. You could feel every inch of their hard muscles pressing against your front and back. Despite the freezing chill of the water surrounding you, your body felt like it was lit aflame. The handsome agent and the dashing Spaniard cease their bickering when they hear you gasp.

Leon, who is behind you, looks at the back of your bowed head. His hardened expression softening to that of worry as he called your name. “Are you hurt? We should get you out of the water fast.”

Luis, who is in front of you, observes you with a knowing smirk. His teasing, cheeky demeanor returning tenfold. He was about to say something, but you silence him with a deathly glare.

You totally miss the look of confusion on Leon’s face when Luis starts busting out laughing. Being close to these two is a new kind of dangerous.

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myjealouseyes · 6 months

Text

You Are In Love.

Harry James Potter x wolfstar!daughter!reader

Fluff, friends to lovers, pining, cuddling. (References to the lyrics are in bold)

Your friends and Harry’s have made themselves comfortable in your room. beanbags, pillows, and a few pieces of salty microwave popcorn scattered across the floor as some old gory horror movie plays on the TV. You stopped paying attention a while ago, being more concerned with your popcorn and how warm Harry’s skin felt on yours as you leaned on his shoulder; his arm wrapped around your waist.

You feel his eyes on you. His intense gaze nearly burns a hole in the top of your head. As you turn your head up quietly to see what's wrong he takes your chin into his hand. Your throat goes dry and you feel your hands get clammy. The churning you get in your stomach is new, it’s exciting, it's nothing like you’ve felt before. “Look up,” Harry mumbles as he raises your chin. He swipes a small piece of popcorn off the side of your cheek with his thumb and lets his hand fall back in his lap. Your eyes follow it.

Your heart speeds up and time slows down. Your eyes stay fixed on his hand. One touch was all it was. A single brush, nothing abnormal compared to how touchy you two usually are. So why did something so minor give you such intense feelings?

Your mind tries to dwell on it but a sudden and loud noise from the TV breaks you from your thoughts. The group of friends you’d forgotten about all shriek and flinch at what you guess had been a jump scare. You become aware of your surroundings again and right at that moment, the realization hits.

You are in love.

With your best friend, your Harry.

What were you to do now?

A few weeks later you’re in Harry’s room for your weekly sleepover. You’re in one of his hoodies and a pair of pajama pants he thought he lost a while ago. You two talk and laugh and shush each other under the blankets, just like normal. You ignore the fluttering sensation in your belly and the voice in the back of your head shouting “Tell him! Tell him!”

It doesn’t matter how much butterflies flutter or how hot your face gets. You won’t tell him. You can’t risk it. You won’t take a chance if it means potentially ruining your friendship forever. You couldn’t handle losing Harry. It would break you.

You and Harry are cuddled close under his sheets. You’re almost nose-to-nose and you can feel his breath on your face. Your fingers trace over Harry’s cheek slowly, softly, almost longingly. He smiles and presses his lips to your forehead. Your eyes flutter closed as you try to savor the feel of his lips on your skin. Your body is still begging you to tell him, but you don’t. Instead, you open your eyes and they trail over his face. You soak him in like it’s the first time you’ve seen him, even though this is the same face you've had committed to memory since before you could properly say your own name.

Harry’s eyes don’t move. They stay locked in yours as he strokes your arm in slow, repeating patterns. At that moment, he didn’t think he would need to look at anything that wasn’t you ever again. As long as he could see the crease by your eyes the dimple on your cheek he’d be okay. Harry seems to dissociate for a bit as his eyes focus on you. Your eyebrows furrow as poke his cheek softly, silently asking him what’s wrong.

He shakes his head and snaps out of his trance. He’s got a strange look on his face. He looks conflicted as he takes your face in between his hands and presses his forehead against yours.

“You’re my best friend.” He mumbles breathlessly, like he’s just finished running a marathon.

At first, you don’t think anything of it. But after a few minutes of mauling over his worlds silently, your heart jumps to your throat.

You pull away from him. Shocked, happy, wide-eyed, and grinning.

You knew what it was,

He is in love.

#dividers by cafekitsune #there’s references to hits different and daylight in there too.#wolfstar!daughter!reader #harry james potter x reader #harry potter x reader #harry potter x wolfstar!daughter #harry james potter x y/n #harry james potter x wolfstar!daughter #wolfstar!daughter #harry james potter imagine #Harry James potter x you #harry potter x black!reader #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x you #harry potter imagine #harry potter x wolfstar!daughter!reader

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i-turned-into-the-stone · 1 month

Note

Which idol is waiting by/in an alleyway and when you come across them, you act like you think they're a prostitute and treat them accordingly?

I don't know why I think of Jisoo but either way, I had a quick fun 10-minute break writing this.

Fuck, it's a cold night, but the neon lights of the city keep things somewhat warm. I turn down this dark alleyway, hoping to find someone willing to help me out with my needs.

There she is - Jisoo from that K-pop girl group BLACKPINK, I think, leaning against the wall trying to look aloof.

Her long black hair frames that beautiful face, and she's wearing a tight dress that hugs her curves.

I decide to play around as I swagger up to her, hand on my zipper. "Well hello there, pretty thing. Looking for some business tonight?"

Jisoo's eyes go wide as I approach. "W-what? No, I'm not...you have the wrong idea!"

But I cut her off, pushing her back against the wall. I lean in close, my breath hot on her neck as I whisper. "Don't play dumb, baby. I know what you're after out here. Now, how much to have that sweet pussy for a little while?"

She squirms, cheeks flushed. "S-stop it! I'm an idol, I don't...mmpph!"

Sealing my lips over hers, I kiss Jisoo deeply, groping her ass through the tight dress. She whimpers into my mouth, but doesn't fight back too hard.

Soon, my tongue is exploring her mouth while I grind my hardening cock against her belly.

With a wet pop, I break the kiss. "Your lips say no...but your body says yes. Now let's see those tits."

Without waiting for Jisoo's reply, I grab her slender thighs and hike her legs up around my waist, pinning her against the rough brick wall.

She gasps when I grind my clothed bulge against her clothed pussy, the friction already dampening her panties.

"N-no...please, I'm a good girl, I've never..." she whimpers, but her protests are feeble at best as I attack her neck with hungry kisses and bites.

"Shh, I know you're a slut, just enjoy it," I growl, reaching down to hike up Jisoo's tight dress, exposing her lacy black thong.

I rub my hand over the soaked fabric, making her squirm restless.

With my other hand, I roughly paw at Jisoo's breasts through her dress, mauling the soft mounds as she pants hotly.

Finally freeing one breast, I latch my mouth around her hardened nipple, sucking hard.

"Aahh!...fuck..." Jisoo moans, her hips bucking shamelessly now as I grind the bulge of my jeans against her drenched core.

Releasing her tit with a pop, I quickly unzip and free my thick, veiny cock. With one hand, I shove Jisoo's thong aside, exposing her pretty pink pussy, glistening with arousal.

Then I'm burying myself balls deep inside her in one hard thrust.

Jisoo cries out muffled obscenities as I immediately start pounding her pussy hard and deep, not giving her a chance to adjust to my thick size.

Her arms wrap around my neck, nails digging into my shoulders as I rail her up against the cold alley wall.

"Oh fuck, you were made for this, you cock sleeve!" Watching Jisoo's face contort in a mix of pleasure and shame as she bites her lip to stifle her slutty moans.

But her traitorous pussy betrays her - clenching and convulsing greedily around my cock.

"Such a sloppy, used up cunt!" I sneer, one hand holding her legs apart as the other gropes her tits roughly through the fabric of her dress. "But goddamn, your greedy hole feels so fucking good wrapped around me." Harder and harder I jackhammer into her loose pussy.

The lewd sounds of my hips smacking against her ass cheeks, her sopping cunt slobbering all over my cock, echo through the steamy alleyway.

The idol can't hold back the desperate whimpering any longer, one hand clamped over her mouth to muffle the shameful cries of ecstasy.

"That's it, you dumb prostitute...take this fucking dick like you were born for it!" I grunt, sweat dripping down my brow as I pound Jisoo relentlessly.

Her slippery pussy squelches nastily around my pistoning shaft, rippling and clamping down in orgasmic waves she can't control.

I couldn't give a fuck about the pedestrians passing by the alleyway entrance, their shocked gasps and horrified looks only egging me on as I mercilessly rail Jisoo's sloppy cunt.

The K-pop princess herself doesn't seem to care either, whorish moans tumbling shamelessly from her swollen lips now.

"Ooohh fuck yesss!! Ughh..." Jisoo wails, head thrown back in depraved pleasure. Her arms cling to my shoulders desperately as I piston wildly in and out of her sensitive canal.

With each violent thrust, her cream coats my cock, splattering down to soak my balls and drip lewd puddles onto the filthy ground below.

The crude squelching and schlicking sounds echo through the alley as I absolutely ruin Jisoo's pristine pussy.

"Take it, you idol cumdump!" One hand tangled in her silky black hair to hold her in place. "I'll turn your slutty hole inside out on this dick!"

Jisoo squeals like a bitch in heat, hips bucking erratically to grind her drenched slit up and down my cock.

The concrete wall rattles from the sounds of flesh smacking flesh, the wet sloshing of her ruined pussy taking my brutal assault over and over.

One of the passersby stops to gawk at the depraved display, dick no doubt straining in their pants.

But I pay them no mind, focused solely on draining my heavy balls deep in Jisoo's spasming cunt.

My thrusts become wild and erratic, slamming repeatedly into Jisoo's sloppy, battered pussy with reckless abandon until I'm ready to unleash my pent up load.

With a throaty groan, I bury myself to the root inside the whimpering K-pop idol and start pumping thick, hot ropes of jizz straight into her convulsing, cream-filled womb.

"Nnnghhh...take this fucking seed, you dirty cumdump!" I grunt through gritted teeth, holding Jisoo's legs spread wide as I drain my balls inside her overused cunt.

As the last spurts of my load leak out around my softening cock, I unceremoniously drop Jisoo to the ground in a sweaty, creampied heap.

She mewls pathetically, makeup streaked and dress disheveled as my cum and her own juices gush out of her gaped, well-fucked pussy.

Zipping up, I pull some crumpled bills from my pocket and toss them dismissively at the thoroughly degraded starlet.

"Thanks for the business, slut," I sneer with a satisfied smirk before turning to exit the alley, leaving Jisoo a whimpering, defiled mess on the filthy ground behind me.

#anon ask #short smut #jisoo smut

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apdreadful · 10 days

Text

What a day…

“I should get back to the firehouse, shower and change” Tommy says, his coat in his hand.

“Mmmm” Buck hums giving Tommy a heat filled look.

Tommy’s laugh was low and made things in Bucks stomach clench. “Evan babe. As much as the idea of sleeping wrapped around you sounds amazing” he presses his lips to Bucks, murmuring against them “because there is zero chance I would be up for anything else. I need to sleep. Are you free tomorrow? Maybe you can come over if you don’t have a shift”

“I’m free. No shift” Buck smiles “And that sounds great” Buck puts his hands in his pockets to keep from mauling him again “Thanks for coming today, even though you’ve been working all night.”

Tommy reaches out, cupping Bucks jaw. “I told you I’d do my best. And that welcome made it worth it.” His hand slips to Bucks nape bringing his mouth to his where he gives him a long slow deep kiss, his tongue sweeping into Bucks mouth eliciting a small moan from the back of his throat.

Tommy smiles against Bucks mouth “Looks like l can make you make that sound too”

Buck laughs throatily “That was dead sexy as fuck you know”

Tommy kisses him again, making Buck grab his overall straps “I look forward to seeing what other sounds we can pull out of each other” Taking Buck’s bottom lip between his teeth tugging gently on it before pressing another soft kiss to Buck’s lips and resting his forehead against his.

Buck nods “But, no tonight. You want me to drop you at the firehouse?” Buck asks.

Tommy leans back and looks down at his soot covered turn out.

“You can throw it in the back of the jeep, I got a tarp back there”

Tommy grins “I’m beginning to see one of those perks of dating a hot firefighter”

“Ready for everything” Buck quips.

“You sure you don’t mind?”

“You know I don’t” he replies.

“Then yes. That would be great” His look is full of amusement “But you might want to wash your face..again”

“I’d forgotten about that” Buck shakes his head with a chuckle “why bother at this point”

At the firehouse, Buck hesitates before pulling in, his eyes flicking to Tommy “Where you want me to drop you” He could see a bunch of the guys milling around inside.

Tommy points to the left of the doors “that’s good for me”

After parking Buck jumps out to grab Tommy’s coat from the back, coming around he hands it to him.

Taking it. Tommy grabs a handful of Bucks sweatshirt hauling him close for another kiss. Earning some whoops and cheers from the guys inside.

When they’re both breathless again Tommy let’s go and steps back with a grin “Thank god I’m wearing this. Or the team would read my right to the walls for walking in with a hard on”

Buck hums his approval “Now I get why chicks dig firefighters, because the idea of peeling you out of this is hot.” He steps back “Now go. Get some sleep”

“Well, we can add that to the list” Tommy teases with a wink, turning to head into the firehouse “Peeling each other out of our uniforms”

“Along with flying lessons and Muay Thai?This turning into quite a list, Firefighter Kinard” Buck retorts, his voice laced with mischief “It might take a while to complete”

“That’s what I’m counting on, Firefighter Buckley” Tommy calls over his shoulder just as he steps into the open garage of the firehouse “I’m sure we can come up with some more things to add to that list as well”

As Buck climbs back into his car he sighs with bone deep contentment, still smiling. This day just may be one of the best days he’s had in quite a while. But he has a feeling there are a lot more to come.

#adding something new to their list #hopefully the never ending list #buck is happy #911 abc #evan buckley #tommy kinard #buck x tommy #evan x tommy #bucktommy #kinley #another quick fic..because adhd #tevan

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dailyadventureprompts · 2 months

Text

DM Tip: Creating a Campaign Skeleton

Learning to be a better dungeonmaster was a protracted process. A younger me was often so stressed out by the desire to be a better artist that I'd have legitimately mauled a person if it would've revealed to me the wisdom I sought (with my hands or even an actual maul given the chance).

One of my biggest hurdles was the idea of a universal framework for d&d adventures, a guideline that would tell me if the things I was creating were on the right track. It was sorely needed, I loved the process of being creative but without an understanding of how my creative energy was best used I ended up sinking days, weeks, or even months worth of energy into projects that went nowhere. Worse yet, when I DID get a chance to put my ideas into practice at the table they'd frequently spiral out of control and crash, resulting in even more stress.

Over time I learned from these mistakes, I got better, and then I got good. I moved from conscious incompetence to competence, and I ended up having a run of absolutely stellar campaigns that were everything my younger self could have dreamed of: stable, enjoyable, meaningful, and most importantly an absolute delight to my players. Routinely I'd have people, including folks that'd only played with me a few times, mention that getting together to roll dice and listen to me babel on in silly voices was a highlight of their week.

It was as one of these campaigns began to wind down (three years! a satisfying conclusion on the horizon!) and I started looking for a followup scenario that I decided to study all my really successful campaigns and figure out what connected them. The end result was something I'd been looking for for nearly a decade, a reliable format that I could build campaigns around.

I want to preface this section with the understanding that while this information is laid out in a vaguely chronological fashion there's no guarantee that these ideas will occur to you in any particular order. Inspiration is a funny thing, and each idea flows into the others to make a cohesive whole. Due to foreshadowing and setup reasons you're also going to need a pretty solid idea about all of these when starting a campaign, though exact details will likely change/ can be vague up until the moment they're needed.

The Reason: Who are we and what are we doing?

Gives your players a solid background to build their characters around and give them a reason to travel together, rather than having to ad lib one on the spot. Likewise sets expectations of what the campaign is "about" that you can build on or subvert in time. The reason doesn't need to hold true for the entire game, just long enough to serve as a framing device. EG: The Witcher starts out as a "monster of the week" setup and then uses that framework to pivot into politics and prophecy once we've seen the premise play out.

The Pilot/Crashtest Adventure: What's first?

I’ve already written about these, but the general concept is to give your party a mostly contained first outing that doesn’t have any larger bearing on the plot so they can focus on learning how their characters play/building the party dynamic. By the time the party's finished this first adventure they'll have already started putting down roots in the world: they'll have in jokes, npcs they've started to care about, an understanding of what's on the horizon, and an idea of where they want to go next.

The Central Gameplay Pillar: How does this all work?

It's important to have an idea what your campaign is going to be about in a mechanical sense in addition to its plot and themes. There is a difference between an adventure that has the party delve a dungeon, and a dungeoncrawling focused campaign. I like to lead with these outright during the campaign pitch so that players can know what they're getting into. Your playgroup will likely have strong opinions about what they like and dislike, even if they don't have the words to describe it, so you might need to explain the ideas for them.

The Hub: Where are we?

I think every good campaign has a hub, some kind of settlement that the party returns to between adventures to offload loot, pick up supplies, and sift through the latest gossip to look for the next questhook. Letting the party return to the same place lets them build up a relationship with it, clarifying the picture in their mind as new details are added and they grow more and more attached. It's possible to have multiple hubs over the course of a campaign, but I'd advise really only having one per arc to best concentrate your efforts. Fill up your hub with distractions and side adventures, shorter stories that the party can get tangled up in while the larger adventure slowly reveals itself. Returning to the same hub also means returning to a familiar and expanding cast of NPCs, which helps your party become more and more invested in the setting

The Main Event: What's going to happen?

Here we get to the meat of the issue, the big story you want to be telling using this campaign. To pull off the sick narrative kickflip you wish to perform, you're going to need to lay a lot of groundwork, seeding in details left and right as well as giving the party a chance to stumble across evidence of your schemes without ever realizing the whole thing. To do this, you're going to work in the building blocks of your big reveal/twist/pending disaster into the setting along with those side adventures from the hub. This will give your party an idea that something is going on, but with more pressing matters to take care of they're going to be distracted up until the moment you decide to pull the trigger.

The Setting: What's over there?

While things like genre and tone are definitely things you should have a handle on from the outset, I personally feel like the details of a setting are best constructed on an ad hoc basis, either in a direct response to something required by part of the narrative (be it side story or main event), or pencilled in at the margins as the party explores the world.. That said, creation of the hub and setting often go hand in hand because it's important to match the settlement to the environment and then shape the environment to the quests inside the settlement. As for what's beyond your hub, I happen to have just written something about building out settings.

Now, this next option is one that I recommend you start thinking about only once your campaign is fully underway, so it doesn't clog up your creative process by focusing on something that you might not even get to

The Change: What the fuck?

A little while after the main event has kicked off and your party is off on the quest that will turn them from mere adventurers into heroes, they start to hear rumours of strange happenings. It's certainly not related to the present scenario, it may even be an unexpected windfall, but it's not something they have time to look into. Time ticks on, the land is saved, and the party is able to enjoy their victory lap as well as some dearly needed time off. Before they can get comfortable however they're slammed by some strange occurrence that they could have never predicted that changes the state of the world. A neighbouring kingdom invades, an important ally is murdered and they're blamed for it, a dragon starts rampaging through the realm. Its important that this event is outside the party's skillset, not necessarily diametrically opposed, but counter to what they were planning

artsource

#dm tip #dm advice #writing #dm tips #writing advice #campaign skeleton

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