#progress can definitely still be made but I’m doing all I can with what I have

[nighttimealone]

Cw: Nsfw (gym owner+ your personal trainer Simon)

Simon notices you the moment you step into the gym. nervous, pretty, looked entirely out of place. He greets you with a nod and a gruff “Hello” when you saunter to the counter and look up at him timidly. Gleaming doe eyes meeting his and a bit intimidated by his presence.

“I want…want to sign up for the course…” your voice comes out soft and quiet, still a bit scared by the wall of man in front of you. His lips curl upward slightly, though his schedule is pretty tight already, but he doesn’t mind squeezing time out just for a cute and beautiful girl like you.

“The only time I’m free now is 21:00.” Simon said, asking if you’re okay with it, and you agree without a doubt. This is the gym closest to your place, and has the highest rating among others, you don’t mind if the session will start a bit later in the night.

He’s a great personal trainer, like the what the comments say on the internet. He’s meticulous, knows how to effectively improve your stance. You’re not sure if it’s normal for personal trainers to stand this close when you’re squatting, so close that you can feel the heat radiating off him, his breath fanning on the nape of your neck. maybe he just wants to make sure you won’t accidentally hurt yourself, you think to yourself after few sessions with him.

Simon can’t forget the first session, you step into the gym with the sports bra and gym shorts, hair tied into a high bun that shows off your flawless neck, he wonders how smooth it will feel when he runs his fingers along it. His chest touches your rear when you’re lifting weights, “In case your grip slips.” He tells you when he sees the confusion in your eyes. His eyes glued on your hips when you just finished few reps of lying leg curls, ass cheeks so nice and supple, you breathe a bit fast as you keep lying on the training machine, unaware of him try not to form a boner from ogling at your moist lips and the contours of your body.

You’re a bit frustrated with the progress you made so far, asking him if you’re not working hard enough. Your slight pout is too adorable, and he resists the urge not to swipe his thumb over your bottom lip. “You’re doing alright, give your body some time to build muscles.” Simon reassures you, but he can still see the chagrin on your face. You’re stressed out, he can tell, and as your personal trainer, it’s his job to help his student unwind, yeah?

The disappointment and anxiety are thrown to the back of your mind when he sits on the bench in front of the mirror, two fingers deep inside you, twirling and pressing the gooey spots with you moaning on his lap.

“Look at the mirror, sweetheart, look how beautiful you look when your little pussy’s swallowing my fingers.” His other hand move to your chin, turn your head towards the mirror. You can see his smug smile even with that disposable mask on, his fingers shoved deep into your cunt, bring out your profuse juices when he drags his fingers out. The scene is too embarrassing, your cheeks flush with arousal and shyness when you shift your gaze away from the mirror.

“Look at the mirror, love.” His tongue clicks twice, tone firm without any space for you to reject, so you obediently look back, let out a high-pitched sweet whine as you watch how his cock sinks into your tight cunt, pussy lips pushed aside to fit his fat cock. “Fucking pussy so tight, so perfect…fuck…” He inhales deeply, landing a soft swat on your bum and makes you yelp at the comfortable sting.

He definitely didn’t choose to schedule your session this late, that no one will be in gym except you two, so he can bend you over every surfaces here and fuck you till you squirt all over the nearest wall. His hips never cease, shows you how much stamina and strength he has as the best personal trainer. Pinning you over the machine you did lying leg curls, the angle of the it allows your ass to arch up and let him drive his pierced cock deeper, each piercings knead and glide through your spots one by one every time he slams his hips back.

When your thighs’ twitching even harder than they were after your leg days, you looking up at him with dazed eyes, entirely blissed out from how many mind blowing orgasms he gave you, Simon lifts you up again, easily maneuver you to hook your knees over his elbows, he pushes his cum-drenched dick inside again, still rock hard and ready to wrench yet another release from your heavenly cunny. He walks you to the mirror again, every steps makes his hips bucks and cock thrust up in the force, and all you can do is moan and whimper. “too much, too much Simon…”

But He only huffs out a laughter at your words while he stops in front of the mirror, giving you the full view to the reflection—your fucked dumb expression, thighs spread widely and supported by his strong arms, pussy swollen and clit peaks out from the folds, yet your tight walls still massaging his cock nicely as if you’re trying to please him.

“So perfect, princess. look just right when you’re in my arms.” Simon presses a kiss to your shoulder, adjust his grip and let your weight help him to reach the deepest, the tip of his shaft rest against your cervix. “Let’s have the next round on the leg press machine, yeah? I know you hate doing leg press the most, maybe you’ll be more pliant the next time, because you know how I’ll make you soak that seat after the session ends, hmm?”

[haoboutyou]

gym crush | choi seungcheol

fluff | 1151 words | suggestive descriptions. i’m y/n’s just really thirsty

an: please take this as a formal invitation. requests are open! (whether i answer on time is another problem)

you don’t like the gym. absolutely not. it gets super hot and humid inside, it stinks of sweat, and the big machines always intimidate you.

what to do? you’re just a girl.

you usually wouldn’t even phantom the idea of stepping foot into the gym if it wasn’t for your best friend. really, the only reason why you’re even sitting in one right now was because you arrived too early for your meet up with him.

that’s how you ended up perched on a high stool, legs swinging as you patiently look around while soonyoung finishes up his last few sets of… pull-ups? you’re honestly not sure. how he’s still chatting with you while completing his sets – barely panting through it, too – is beyond you.

“so i was thinking,” soonyoung casually starts, lifting himself like he was made of paper. “we can get dinner at the new italian place downtown? i heard they’re having a opening promotion right now.”

“mmh, sounds good.” your eyes are flitting all around the gym, trying to find something interesting enough to catch your attention.

“right, i almost forgot! seokmin texted earlier; he said he’ll drive by to pick us up later too.”

“really? that’s great.” you sound enthusiastic but your hunched posture informs soonyoung otherwise. at this point, your best friend can tell that you’ve tuned out of the conversation. he huffs at the way your eyes zone into the far corner of the gym, where the weight benches are. soonyoung scoffs more when he realises your eyes are trained on a very specific person, watching intently at the way the muscles on his arms bulge every time he lifts a dumbbell.

“yeah, he also said he saw mingyu running into a tree earlier… even said a rat fell on him and started pulling at his hair and controlling him like a robot. do you think the rat would make a better chef than mingyu?”

“wow really? that’s great.” your replies get progressively monotonous as you keep your eyes trained at the corner. yeah, now he definitely knows your mind has completely left the conversation.

your breath hitched as you watched the mystery man run a hand through his faded red hair, baggy t-shirt sleeves hitched up to reveal more of his biceps? triceps? never have you ever wished you paid more attention to your biology lessons back in high school.

everything about this mystery man has you swooning. the thick veins on his hands running up his arms, the way his eyebrows furrow in concentration, how the sweat glistening on his forehead seemed to cast a heavenly glow all around him. you can’t forget the grunts he lets out with every movement, entrancing you with his deep voice. gosh, even his hands are perfect. an angel has descended to soothe all your gym-related problems, converting you into a devout worshipper of his physique.

you’ve never been more thankful for soonyoung’s suggestion to wait in the gym.

soonyoung’s arms may be burning from hanging on the pull-up bar for too long, but he just couldn’t believe his eyes; your mouth is hanging open and– wait, is that drool?! is his best friend really drooling over a man in the gym?!? a laugh of disbelief escapes him as he finishes the last of his rep. soonyoung mutters a quick prayer of thanks to god for gifting him prime blackmailing material. he drops back to the ground and swiftly snaps a picture of you, in all your thirsting glory, before he picks up the rest of his stuff.

“y/n,” he calls out. “i’m gonna hit the showers and then we can go. you good staying here on your own for a bit?”

“yeah, yeah! i’m not going anywhere, don’t worry.” you wave him off, not even bothering to turn towards your best friend. soonyoung lets out another tut as he turns towards the gym’s locker room. that is, before a brilliant idea comes into mind.

“hyung!”

the red-haired man turns towards soonyoung’s voice. “hoshi, you’re going already?”

your best friend nods his head, grinning at how your eyes seemed to pop out at the way he was casually talking to your new-found eye candy. “are you doing anything tonight? i’m meeting seokmin and the others for dinner later, wanna join?”

“kwon soonyoung!” you whisper-hiss. “what the hell are you doing? you guys know each other!?” is that blush creeping up your neck he sees? the tips of your ears tinge so pink soonyoung thinks he can almost feel the heat radiating from them.

“thanks, but i’ve already got plans.” the mystery stranger shoots you a gentle smile, flirty (flirty?!) wink (WINK?!?) towards you. still, you can’t hide your disappointment; you would’ve loved to get to know this new-found work of art more.. “maybe next time? you can properly introduce me to your pretty friend then too.”

soonyoung thinks he heard a strangled cry from you, coughing as you somehow manage to choke on your own saliva. he chuckles at your suffering. “sure, hyung. i think she’d like that too!”

soonyoung doesn’t know what to expect when he finally emerges from the locker room cleaned and refreshed, but it definitely wasn’t you raining attacks on his sore arms and shoulders. seungcheol (he had introduced himself to you while soonyoung was gone– in fact, the two of you managed a whole conversation while he was gone (no, you were so shy and embarrassed you were barely able to keep eye contact with him)) waves at the both of you as you leave the gym to wait for seokmin to arrive.

you’re convinced the blush on your cheeks is going to be a permanent feature of tonight. it doesn’t help that it becomes the main topic during dinner with seokmin and mingyu, the other two boys cracking up at soonyoung’s dramatic retelling of your new-found gym crush.

(it also doesn’t help that you had a balled up fist under the table all night, hiding the hastily written phone number on a piece of paper that seungcheol had managed to slip to you while you were leaving, mouthing the words ‘call me!’ behind soonyoung’s back.)

-

bonus!

“remember when you couldn’t keep your eyes off me when we first met?” seungcheol swings his arm around you, broad shoulders almost engulfing you whole.

you groan, choosing instead to bury your head into your boyfriend’s chest. soonyoung cackles from across the booth. you have to physically restrain yourself from clawing him alive.

“hyung it wasn’t just that; she was drooling over you!” he wiggles his eyebrows, ignoring the daggers you were staring his way. blush makes its way up your cheeks, dusting them pink.

seungcheol laughs, planting a kiss on the crown of your head.

“if it makes you feel better,” he whispers in your ear. “you were my gym crush too.”

soonyoung almost falls off his seat laughing when you blush even harder.

[huaiian]

Imagine Being Loved By Me (Sylus x Fem!Reader)

Summary:

“I’ll relent. Give my kitten a few hours to…play with her toy. To do as she pleases.”

In short, it’s the MC/Reader’s birthday and Sylus let’s her have her way with him.

Pairing: Sylus x Fem!Reader or MC

Rating: Explicit, 18+ ONLY

Words: 4.6 K

AO3 Link Here

Tags: Light Dom/Sub, Dom!MC or Dom!Reader, Sub!Sylus, Bondage, Cumming (kinda) Untouched, Overstimulation, Porn but there's a thread of a plot

Author's Note: Hope you all enjoy! I haven't really written anything like this in a LOOOONG time so if it's not great I apologize. This is basically just me going hmm, what if you tied him up and made him cry. And well uhh….idk this happened. If you aren't into Submissive Sylus then I'm sorry, you'll probably want to skip out on this one ╥﹏╥

You awoke to rays of sun gently fanning across your face. Your nose scrunched up and you stretched your hands above your head, groaning slightly as your joints began to pop. You felt arms wrap around your waist and you smiled slightly, eyes opening slightly, glancing to the side.

“Someone’s up bright and early,” Sylus sighs, arms bringing you closer to him. His head moves to the crook of your neck, taking a deep breath and giving you a gentle kiss on your pulse point. Your smile widens, cradling the back of his head and guiding him upwards. You share a small peck before pulling back, adoration clear in your gaze.

“Happy birthday, my love,” he whispers into the morning air. You kiss him again as he envelopes you in his embrace.

The day progresses as any other day would, aside from the fact that it’s your birthday and Sylus will stop at nothing to shower you with gifts and attention. Did you mention a beautiful Tiffany & Co. necklace you wanted? He got you the entire collection. You said you wanted a new purse right? He took it upon himself to get you every Birkin he could find in person. It was all too much for you, having a more reserved and shy personality usually, but it’s your birthday so why not live a little.

Sylus led you from place to place, joining you in all of your favorite hobbies before surprising you at the end of the night with your closest friends and coworkers at the local karaoke bar. Sylus had to use his pseudonym, Skye, just as he did when you had coincidentally met him in a similar circumstance. Only this time, instead of trying to distance yourself from him the entire night, you were doing your best not to drag him towards you and kiss him until you saw stars.

“Sweetie,” he whispered in your ear, a shiver running up your spine, “you still have one more gift that you’ll need to open.”

“Oh?” You questioned, your eyebrow raising ever so slightly. “And what might that gift be? Don’t tell me you bought me an entire island or something ridiculous.”

Sylus was silent for a beat, causing you to straighten and whirl around, eyes wide and mouth agape at the implication. He chuckles while shaking his head, eyes scrunching up at the corners. “No my dear, though it can be arranged. All you need to do is ask,”

“NO, no I’m definitely happy and definitely don’t need you to spend anything more than you already have,” you stammer, a light blush coloring your cheeks. His laughter dies down and he smirks, leaning forward so his mouth is up against your ear.

“No love, this gift won’t cost me a thing,” his breath fanning out across your ear. Almost as if he could hear your confusion, he clarifies for you.

“I’ll relent. Give my kitten a few hours to…play with her toy. To do as she pleases.”

You could feel warmth rush through you in that moment, understanding the implication of his words. You never believed in the phrase ‘butterflies in your stomach’ until now, feeling the strange sensation combined with your heart stuttering in your chest, you could tell that it was going to be a long night.

After Sylus’ slight teasing, you slowly begin to exit the karaoke bar, hugging friends and catching up with some old co-workers here and there before finally making a subtle departure. You didn’t want to ruin the party for everyone else, but you also had a present waiting at home that had been plaguing your mind for hours now. You snatched Sylus’ hand and started dragging him over to his motorcycle, the man squeezing your hand gently. 

“I see someone’s anticipation is slowly getting the best of her,” he teased. The motorcycle came into view, which only made you take larger strides.

“If I had known how much you’d enjoy this gift, I would’ve departed a long time ago-” his voice was cut off by you suddenly swinging him forward, leaning him against the bike before cupping his cheeks. His eyes widened before you brought his face forward, your lips colliding in an aggressive kiss, showcasing your pent up frustration. He hummed into the kiss before his hands came to rest on your hips. 

As the kiss deepened, his hands snake towards your ass, that is until you swatted them away. You broke the kiss to find an adorably confused expression on his face. You lean forward, slightly on your tiptoes to try to make eye contact.

“I’m sorry, I thought the birthday girl was going to call the shots. Isn’t that right?” You questioned him with a smug demeanor. His eyes darkened before nodding. You grabbed his chin and pulled him in for another kiss, where it was obvious that you were in complete control. He could feel the smile on your face before pulling back again.

“That’s my good boy.”

He groans, eyes closing again before you bring him back into a possessive kiss. You wanted to muffle any sounds he might make in case anyone had the audacity of hearing him in this state; a state only you were allowed to see. You broke apart from him again, his eyes opening again and looking towards you for further direction.

“Let’s get you home baby, I’ll take care of you,” you softly tell him, hand cupping his face and thumb gently wiping just before his eye. He nods mindlessly at you before whispering “yes ma’am.” He climbs atop of the motorcycle as you follow close behind. Before you realize it, Sylus is weaving in and out of traffic at speeds you knew were nowhere near safe. Could it be due to your hand squeezing his inner thigh, your chest pressed against his back ever so tightly. 

When you arrive at home, you notice that the twins and Mephisto aren’t there to welcome you home. You sigh slightly out of exasperation, taking Sylus’ hand once more before leading him inside the house. The darkness and silence is all encompassing, all that can be heard in yours and Sylus’ breaths desperately trying to calm yourselves of your racing heartbeats.

As you move through the house, you finally locate the bedroom door, noticing that candles had been lit, illuminating the room in a gentle glow. 

“I’ll have to give the boys their thanks later,” you state, giggling slightly to yourself at the turn of events.

Sylus frowns slightly before squeezing your hand harder to indicate his irritation at the mention of the twins. You laugh openly now, ushering Sylus to sit on the bed.

“It seems that someone’s a jealous little toy huh,” you speak, an authoritative tone engulfing your words in a new weight. Sylus scoffs, crossing his arms and turning his head to the side.

“As though you wouldn’t be upset with me if I starting bringing up other women in the bedroom,” 

“What other women Sylus,” you speak up, your hands grabbing his wrists and unfolding his arms. You widen your stance and take a seat on his lap, your index finger and thumb grasping his chin to force him to look you in the eye. He looks at you with a slight scowl on his face, but his widening pupils and growing bulge in his pants tells you that the expression is just for show.

“Enlighten me,” you tease, leaning forward so your lips ghost his ever so slightly, “what other women are you talking to?” The question falls upon deaf ears as your hand moves from his chin to his hair, curling around some strands before gripping tightly, tugging his head backwards. Sylus gasps sharply as you feel his cock twitch below you. You move your head swiftly to his neck, kissing up his neck before reaching his jawline just below his ear. You start sucking sharply, nipping at the skin to ensure that a mark appears in your wake. 

He moans low, his hands fisting the sheets below him. His head falls to the side, allowing you greater access to his neck. You let go of the sensitive skin, but you don’t move away. Your breaths dampening the skin below you before you ask again, “Answer me Sylus: What other women are you talking to?” 

“No one,” he states, sounding out of breath and ragged before groaning again as you bite his neck with pressure just enough to leave a mark. You release his neck before licking a stripe upwards, whispering in his ear, “that’s a good boy,” before softly biting his ear lobe.

Sylus’ hips buck upwards, searching for any kind of friction. You let out a ‘hmph’ before grinding down harshly, forcing a muttered ‘oh fuck’ out of his mouth. 

“Now that won’t do,” you state, slowly getting up from his lap. He opens his eyes slowly, half lidded. His eyes watch you as you move your way towards the dresser, his breath stuttering as he sees you grab rope you both are all too familiar with. He kicks off his shoes and climbs onto the bed, positioning himself on his knees with his hands behind his back. 

“How obedient,” you observe as he sits, awaiting for your instruction, “but we won’t be in this position today.” He quirks an eyebrow up at you, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. You smirk as well, knowing that the poor bastard had no idea what he had signed up for when offering his last present to you.

You kick off your heels and crawl in front of him on your knees. His chest starts rising and falling more noticeably and he tries to calm his breathing. You start undressing him, giving gentle instructions as needed. He obeyed without any resistance and as you were slowly peeling off his last layer, cock springing upwards and onto his stomach, you heard a quiet moan leave him. 

You remove the boxers and throw them to the side, attention stuck on the pretty pink length twitching slightly at your gaze. You lean forward, licking a fat stripe on the underside of his cock, reveling in the way his breath stutters and his thighs shake. You give a quick suck to the head before pulling back, raising your head upwards to make eye contact with the man.

“Sweetie please,” he whispers, hand reaching forward to grab your waist. You quickly took his wrist and put your other hand on the middle of his check slowly pushing him backwards on the bed, pinning his hands above his head, straddling his hips. You could feel his cock underneath you through your jeans, moving your hips in a subtle circular motion. You hear him whimpering faintly, and you squeeze his wrists before letting them go. His wrists stay above his head, his gaze pleading with you to let him feel you in his rough grasp.

You grab the forgotten rope at your side before cupping his cheek, bringing him into a tender kiss. Sylus attempted to deepen the kiss, but you smiled and pulled away. 

“Spread out baby,” you say to him, unraveling the rope. He rolls his eyes and spreads out, his hands and feet pointing towards their respective corners.

“You know, when I offered up this as a present, I wasn’t expecting…” he trails off, trying to find the right words, “all of this enthusiasm. I thought you enjoyed begging underneath me,  begging for my co-” 

He was cut off from his bratty tirade by a sharp slap to the inner thigh, causing his hips to buck and the words to die on his tongue.

“I didn’t think I needed to keep that pretty mouth of yours in check,” you say with a bored tone, sighing slightly. You finish up tying the last ankle to the corner of the bed, using a single column tie for his wrists and ankles. As you lean back to acknowledge your handiwork, you can see his arms and legs straining a little, testing out the ropes. Unfortunately for him, the ropes are secure and unless he’s willing to beg, there's no getting out of them now.

You straddle his midriff and he looks up at you with a slight scowl at you tying him down. You cup his cheeks with your hands and kiss him deeply, languidly. You’re able to take your time now and you’re going to savor every second of it. He kisses you back, matching your leisurely pace.

You part the kiss, a string of saliva connecting the two of you. “I have scissors in the left hand drawer,” you mutter, kissing the corner of his mouth. “The safe word is Featherstar. Do I make myself clear?” You look at him sternly, wanting him to take this seriously. He nods his head and attempts to lean forward to kiss you once more. You click your tongue at him, moving away. 

“I’m gonna need you to use your words my love,” you tell him in a hushed tone. He pouts at you but nods again, replying with a simple “Yes ma’am, I understand.”

“Thank you sweetie,” you whisper in his ear, causing him to shiver. You start kissing down his neck, leading the middle of his chest. You start sucking and biting different areas on his chest, knowing that the man would start unraveling at the seams. Sure enough, he was humming and groaning at the attention his chest was receiving.

You moved towards his nipple, dragging your tongue across the sensitive bud. You felt it perk up and start to harden as you swirled your tongue around it in small circles.

“Oh sweetie, fuck,” he sighs, his arms straining against the ropes. He lets out an annoyed huff followed by a low pitched groan and you start to suck on the raised bud. You continue sucking and your other hand caresses his side, trailing your fingers upwards until they reach his other nipple. You tweak the unoccupied nipple in between your fingers, pinching and rubbing it in small circles similar to your tongues movements before swapping the two. Your mouth comes and replaces your hand while your other hand comes up to caress his pec. 

Sylus moans and twitches underneath you, becoming more and more agitated by his inability to touch you. “Baby, when will you release me? This is getting a bit boring, don’t you think?” He tries his best to keep his voice from wavering with arousal. 

You look up at him and bite down on his nipple, causing the man to moan and tip his head back on the bed. You release his nipples and kiss your way to the center of his chest again. “Bargaining isn’t going to work my dear, I’m afraid you’re just going to have to get used to this.”

He tries to calm his breathing as you start caressing his body, your fingers applying feather light pressure to him, goosebumps rising on his skin. You venture lower until you’re sitting back, his cock straining against his stomach in a red color that looks somewhat irritated from the lack of attention. 

Your touch delicately brushes against his length, his cock jumping and twitching with every touch. “You’re killin’ me sweetie,” he says, sounding out of breath. You continue the movements, making no effort to apply anymore pressure or stimulation. He whimpers as his dick starts leaking a constant stream of precum, creating a shallow puddle on his stomach. 

“You can come just from this can’t you?” You ask, tilting your head to the side. He shakes his head slightly before flinching as your fingers gather some of the precum, teasing the tip. His thighs flex, trying to plant his feet onto the mattress but to no avail. You giggle at his reaction, playing with the slit before leaning forward, licking the shell of his ear.

“Don’t you want to make me proud? It is my birthday after all,” you purr into his ear, his breathing becoming erratic. You could tell he was close, all he needed was some pushing. You took your free hand and grasped his hair. 

“Don’t you want to be a good boy, make me proud?” You say, tugging his hair so his head would be pulled back. He made a choked off noise and shut his eyes suddenly, whimpering as he came, hot streaks of cum shooting up towards his chest. You could see the veins in his arms protruding from being restricted. You smiled, cooing in his ear praises of how well he was doing. 

Sylus took a few calming breaths before looking at you, his eyes glassy and gaze filled with longing. “Please baby, let me go,” he tries again. You shake your head before getting up, straddling him again. He quirks an eyebrow before you start to undress yourself, shimmying out of your jeans and pulling off your top, only left in a matching underwear set you treated yourself to for your big day. His eyes widened as he gazed upon the maroon lace seemingly painted across your breasts.

His distraction was evident as you started to crawl your way upwards, pussy hovering over his face. Even so, his eyes had not left the lingerie once. It seemed as though he was unaware as to what your next move would be, completely taken aback by your choice of attire to ask any questions. You gripped his hair again to tilt his head backwards so he made eye contact with you. 

“Try to keep up,” you stated, using your other hand to push your panties aside. His mouth drops open, saliva beginning to pool in his mouth. Before he can retort, your thighs spread further apart, sitting yourself on his mouth, nose nudging your clit. You moan out as he tongue begins to work you open, lapping up the wetness with a new refound vigor. You started rutting against his mouth, grinding downward so his nose would grind against your clit at an addicting pace.

“Your tongue-” you groan, removing your hands so you could place them behind you, leaning back against his thighs, “God you’re good at this.” You gripped his upper thighs, feeling the firm muscle underneath your hands quivering. You lifted your hips up and away from his mouth for a moment to let him catch his breath. The smug satisfaction pools in the pit of your stomach as you see his chin glisten, mouth open while he takes a brief reprieve. 

“You better get your ass back over here sweetie-” he starts, impatience in his voice. You roll your eyes at him once more pushing yourself back into his mouth. “I’m gonna need to punish you for speaking out of turn like that, ya know,” you tell him, grinding down harder and harder as he works you open. You gasp as he starts fucking you open with his tongue, moaning at your taste. 

You glance behind you and find not only is he fully erect again, but it seems he’s just as close to release as you. And well, we can’t have that can we?

You could feel yourself getting close, and as rode him harder and faster, you reached for his cock behind you, squeezing just under his head. Sylus whimpers loudly in response, but continues to bring you closer and closer to the edge.

With one last nudge of his nose against your clit, your eyes rolled in the back of your head, body going stiff and you came on his tongue. You could feel him pant against your thigh as he tried to calm himself, hips thrusting upward to try and reach his release as well.

“Love please let me come, please, you tasted so good I wanna come too, please,” he begs, mumbling against the inside of your thigh. You pull back from his mouth as he whimpers in protest. You raise up, letting go of his cock as it falls against his stomach heavily. You take off your bra and panties, looking at him with a devious glint in your eye. 

You grab him by the chin so his mouth would open slightly. “Open up,” you ordered and he reluctantly obeyed. You realized he was going to try to come up with a witty retort, but you knew how to satiate him for the time being. You took your panties coated in your wetness and shoved them in his mouth, gagging him. His eyes rolled in the back of his head and moaned loudly. 

“Don’t worry Sylus, I just wanted to save your stamina,” you tell him, moving backwards so your cunt was hovering over his cock. He shivered and moaned at the feeling of you grinding down on his dick, heavy with want and radiating with heat. You moved your cunt against him, slicking up his dick. You finally lifted up and grabbed the base of his shaft, circling the head around your entrance. He started breathing heavily through his nose, the pressure from his yanking causing the ropes around him making the bed frame creak. 

“Such a patient boy, you’ve been waiting so nicely,” you gasp out as you slowly start to sink down on him. He moans loudly, voice muffled by the panties. You take him inch by inch before sitting fully on him, feeling filled to the brim. All that can be heard are the desperate breaths between the two of you. You place your hands on his abs before raising yourself up, tip almost slipping out. As your hips come down forcefully, you hear a punched out moan escape Sylus, little noises escaping him the more you move, however slight.

You start riding him with new vigor, bouncing up and down on his cock, trying to get him to reach deeper and deeper inside you. His moans are becoming louder and louder, with whimpers escaping him whenever you take a moment to sit and swivel your hips in circular motions. The sounds Sylus begins to make sound more and more frantic, wobbly from desperation.

“It’s ok, cum for me Sylus. Fill me up, I wanna be filled with your cum,” your tone sounding strained and you uncontrollably start moving on his cock, desperate for him. It only takes a few more times bouncing on his cock before you hear a muffled shout, feeling warmth spread through you. You moan out, a high pitched squeal leaving your lips as you cum around his cock, milking him inside of you.

You look over and see his head lolled to the side, saliva dripping out of the side of his mouth around your panties. You lean forward and gently move his face so he looks at you. You cup his cheek and praise him as you gingerly remove the panties from his mouth. He breathes through his mouth deeply, coughing slightly. 

You had planned to be done from here, thinking that you've had enough fun, but you can’t help but think of how far you’ll be able to push the infamous leader of Onychinus. A devious part in you wants to break him, while another part of you wants to give him mercy. 

You decide to be selfish, still craving more and more from him. You squeeze around his cock and he groans out, mumbling a soft “baby, please”. Before long, you start moving in circles again, and Sylus is below you, pleading with tears in his eyes.

“Oh God, oh fuck, I don’t- I don’t know if I- SHIT!” He yells out, tears escaping from the corner of his eyes, head hitting the bed behind him hard as he tries grasping for something, anything to keep him grounded.

“Miss please, please, I can’t I- I need to touch you please please,” he begs, voice coming out shaky as you start lifting yourself up and down on his cock again. You were getting tired and felt as though his punishment had gone on long enough.

“Just your legs-” before you could continue, Sylus’ evol appears out of thin air, slicing the ropes that are connecting his ankles to the corners of the bed. You startle, stopping for a second before yelping, bracing your hands on his chest as he plants his feet into the bed, roughly thrusting up into you. You moan out harshly, sounds punching out of you with every thrust of his hips. 

“You feel so good around me sweetie, so hot…so soft…kiss me,” he babbles. You prop yourself up and surge forward, meeting him in the middle. Your teeth clash and you can feel desperation in the kiss as you both try to ground yourselves with the other. 

“Sylus please…please I need more, I need you to mark me, claim me, I’m all yours,” you whimper. His arms flex and his biceps bulge at the urge to grab you, feel your plush skin against his roughened palms. He whimpers at the realization of the restraints, giving you a pleading look that could send you to your knees.

“Touch me Sylus,” you order. Within an instant, his voice evol slashes the ropes and he’s grabbing you, taking you by the hips and physically lifting you up and down his cock. You scream out in pleasure as you can feel your release approaching swiftly. You can tell by his sloppy movements and frenzied expression that he’s close as well. 

You begin to chant his name over and over, having the words be punched out of you by his thrusts. You feel him hitting you deeper and deeper, fucking his cum back into you over and over again. You grasp the back of his neck and pull him to you, kissing him sloppily. 

As he returns the kiss to you, you break away slightly with a silent scream, hurdling over the edge and feeling nothing but a white static. Your body feels euphoric and, at the sight of your pleasure, Sylus gasps and thrusts up into you with one sharp movement, cumming hard to the point where it bordered on painful. After coming down from your highs, You languidly grab one of the random pieces of clothing you had discarded before to wipe off his chest. 

Before you could get up to get some more cleaning supplies, Sylus holds you captive in his arms as he slowly leans back onto the bed, cradling your head and bringing you to his chest. As your breaths slow and the drowsiness starts to appear, you look up at Sylus.

“Thank you Sylus,” You whisper to him, kissing the center of his chest. He clutches you harder, kissing the top of your head. “I had no idea my love could be so…domineering,” he chuckled as you blushed, hiding your face into his chest. He laughed once more before kissing your head again. 

“I don’t mind it though. We can play around a bit more in the future but,” he stops, contemplating for a moment. You look up at him with hope and mischief in your eyes. He sighs and holds you tighter, mumbling “maybe for special occasions only though. Don’t want my kitten to get too greedy with her toys now.” 

You laugh and hug him closer to you, craving the intimacy of just being close to him. He tugs you upwards and burrows his head into the crook of your neck, taking a deep breath in before he confides, “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let you go.”

You giggle a little at his words and kiss his shoulder, “I don’t think I mind that. Not at all.”

_____

Author's Note: HOPE YOU ENJOYED!! If you'd like to see any other stories or continuations of this let me know, I'd be happy to write some more.

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Two four

A small note: if you would like to be added to the tagging list please ask in a reply to the post, I won't check elsewhere.

Eddie’s sitting on the couch. He’s staring into space, a couch cushion clutched tight to his chest.

Steve creeps in after Robin, hears her say, “Eddie?” softly, presumably so she doesn’t startle him.

He’s sitting in the dark, and they both just leave it that way. Probably an unspoken understanding that they don’t want to unsettle Eddie.

They sit down either side of him, Robin rubbing at his back. Steve keeps his hands to himself, not sure what will be welcome, and even less sure what the fuck he should say. Robin’s just better at this sort of stuff than Steve, maybe because she’s a girl or whatever, but she definitely has the emotional intelligence half of the brain.

Steve doesn’t know if there’s anything he even can say in a situation like this.

Eddie’s eyes are red and his face is wet, and he doesn’t move or look at either of them.

Eventually, Robin speaks gently, “Eddie, we can’t stay here.”

Steve figures whoever did live here probably cleared out when everything went to shit. He’s kind of glad; has no fucking idea how he’d explain away Eddie Munson, possible cult leader and serial killer, breaking into their house.

Steve doesn’t think Eddie’s going to say anything, but he does, after a minute, he nods, and says in a croaky voice, “I want to see Wayne.”

“Yeah, of course,” Robin agrees quickly, “we can do that, right Steve?”

“Yeah,” Steve replies, trying to sound sure and confident with that, when Eddie flinches. Visibly flinches. Turning away, shuffling closer to Robin’s end of the couch. And, okay.

Robin looks at him over Eddie’s head. Steve shrugs. Robin shrugs back. No idea.

Steve carefully, making no quick movements, moves his hand in front of his mouth, mimes using the walkie. Robin nods.

Steve jogs out to the car, walkie’s everyone real quick so they can stop looking. The others have already woken Wayne up, discovered that Eddie wasn’t there, and then gone looking for Eddie, so they’re going to head back there and wait for Steve and Robin to bring Eddie over. Explain to Wayne that Eddie’s safe so they don’t leave him worrying in the meantime.

Steve creeps back in, hoping Robs has made some progress getting Eddie moving. She hasn’t, and Steve peeks around the corner, listening. Robin is still rubbing at Eddie’s back, but he’s talking, “didn’t make any sense to come here. It’s all wrong. It all looks wrong it’s...not how we had it. Our stuffs not here,” Eddie sniffs, his voice breaking, “I thought I’d find them here.”

And then Eddie is sobbing, face buried into the cushion, sobbing so hard his whole body is hitching. He’s making noises that tear at Steve, it’s one of the worst things Steve has ever seen, such an outpouring of grief. Eddie’s so loud with it, almost wailing, barely able to breathe his chest is so wracked with it.

Steve feels absolutely useless, but Robin’s looking for him over the back of the couch, and as soon as he sees her his feet carry him over. Robin’s crying too. Steve’s pretty sure his own eyes are wet. It’s just so awful to watch. So painful, Eddie’s grief.

Steve realizes now, why Robin was so horrified. The truth of it finally sinking in now he sees the evidence of it. Eddie loved them, loved them so much that loosing them is breaking him.

Steve sits back on the couch, Eddie looking up for a second when he feels the couch dip, and suddenly he’s thrown himself at Steve, still shaking with those heaving sobs as Steve reflexively wraps his arms around him. It hurts like fuck on Steve’s broken ribs, but Steve bites it back, like fuck is reminding Eddie of that right now.

“I shouldn't have come here,” Eddie chokes out, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Eddie’s making Steve’s neck wet, and his great heaving sobs make Steve arms hitch along with them. Over the fluff of Eddie’s hair, Steve sees it as Rob starts crying fully, wiping at her nose with her sleeve, her face crumpling with it.

Steve swallows thickly, trying to hold it together but knowing he’s loosing it, and he rubs at Eddie's back, telling him, "it's okay, it'll be okay," even though Steve has no idea if it is or even if it ever will be.

It feels like a small eternity before Eddie sits up and finally moves. He doesn’t look at Steve, has his eyes squeezed shut as he scrubs at his face, and when Steve reaches for him, he flinches so hard he almost falls off the couch.

Rob is there for him then, telling him, “easy, easy,” and getting Eddie up and walking him to the car, Eddie half leaning on her.

Eddie’s opening the car door before Steve even fully stops, high tailing it away like his ass is on fire. Wayne is there in the doorway of the motel room.

Easy enough to find, it’s the only motel in Hawkins, and Jon’s car is parked outside the right room.

Wayne opens the door as Steve kills the engine, and Steve watches in the dim light as Eddie practically throws himself at Wayne. He’s sobbing again, Steve can hear it.

Steve’s only half out the car, but Nancy’s there, shaking her head, “we should leave them to it.”

They’re not going to go back to sleep, but they go through the motions anyway. Steve has a shower, really feels like he needs it. He takes a few minutes extra in there, scrubbing at his face and washing his hair, being very careful of his stitches. He gets changed into sleep pants after, and a loose tee shirt, lying in bed. Even if he just lies here, at least it’s rest of some kind. The sun will be up in an hour away, and the kids had said something about helping out at the sports hall, making sandwiches and putting together bundles of emergency supplies and stuff like that.

Steve said he’d drive them.

“Come on Dingus, I can hear you thinking about it.”

“He wouldn’t even look at me, and he flinched Rob, did you see that? And then…” it just doesn’t make any sense.

“Yeah, I did but...out of all of us, you’re the one he hurt the worst. Like, way the worst. He nearly killed you, Steve. Like, literally, if Eddie had taken another ten seconds to wake up, you would have been lights out. Maybe he remembers.”

That does make sense, Steve hums in agreement, that’s got to be hard for him, “yeah.”

“Maybe it’s hard for him to see you because...well. That’s got to be a shitty memory. Plus, trauma does funny things, what if he remembers you fighting back, you know?”

And that’s true, Steve did land one good hit on Eddie with his bat, more reflexive than anything. Before Eddie had taken the thing right out of Steve’s hands and snapped it like it was nothing, that is.

So yeah, maybe, Steve figures, “he was saying sorry.”

Robin hums again.

Steve’s ribs are healed up, his stitches long gone, all his bruises and scrapes are gone. The town is, kind of, back on it’s feet. Sure, there’s probably an abnormally high number of for sale signs in Hawkins, but everyone who was going to come back has done. Enough that Steve’s got part time shifts at the video store, at least. Mostly to keep up appearances; now that it’s all over, Owen’s got them all a pay out. Essentially for damages and trauma or whatever, but also with a very clear ‘keep your mouths shut’ attached to it.

For that first month, Eddie pretty much only speaks to Dustin. He stays with Wayne, and once every couple of days he lets Dustin know that he’s okay. The message Dustin brings back is the same every time, “he’s okay, he just needs some time.”

@autumncrocusandladybug @duckyreads @neonfruitbowl @slv-333 @starlight-archer @skys-archive @justdreamersdream @moomkin77 @prazinos @dragonmama76 @lingeringmirth @darkwitchoferie @weirdandabsurd42 @zoeweee @thennic @xiaq @tinyplanet95 @steddieyourself @chrystal-lovee @futuristicunknown86 @grtwdsmwhr @mugloversonly @wonderland-girl143-blog

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Perfect Life || CL16 {7}

Summary: The first night at Charles’ house is almost ruined before it can even begin. Warnings: angst, light smut WC: 3.2k F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight Taglist: RETIRED Head over to my dedicated library blog @dilemmaslibrary and opt to get notifications from there.

The paper bag in your hands crinkled as you opened it to see what Charles had asked you to carry. “What is this?” 

“Dinner.”

You raised a brow and closed it back up. “Those are ingredients,” you corrected, placing it on the kitchen bench in his apartment. “I hope you aren’t expecting me to cook because you will be bitterly disappointed.”

He laughed as he closed the front door and kicked his shoes off. “It’s all prepared, the pasta just needs boiling but I can do that. Why don’t you take a look around?”

You already planned on being nosey when he wasn’t looking but now you could openly snoop and happily left him to his own devices. Like most apartments in Monaco, it was smaller than you were used to but it was more than enough for a man living on his own. 

You circled the living room and tried not to be envious of all the photos he had hung in frames around the room. Faces you recognised held carefree smiles that they never had in your presence and Charles was no exception. You thought you had seen his real smile but even that was strained compared to what was captured when he was with his friends and family.

“I’m starting to think that frown is just your resting face,” Charles commented as he stepped out of the galley kitchen to see your progress. 

You schooled your face until the lines evened out and a mild look of boredom hid your thoughts as you turned away from the photos and found something that made your heart nearly stop. The manuscript was plain and unassuming on the shelf, the title print small and barely legible on the bare sewn spine, but you knew that book.

“You stole it.”

Charles’ confused gaze followed you to the bookshelf. “What?”

“It wasn’t enough to take him from me but you took our book too,” you muttered as you tugged it from the shelf and ran your fingers across the faded purple inscription in the corner: For Jules. A hint of the berry scented ink still clung to the page and you swallowed the lump in your throat as you opened it to the dog eared page you left behind.

“This was a mistake,” you said as you closed the book and shoved it back on the shelf. If it wasn’t this, it would just be something else- there was too much history to think this could ever work. “I can’t do this, Charles.”

He intercepted your exit, blocking the door with pleading eyes. “Wait, please. I didn’t know it was yours. You can have it back.” 

“I don’t want it back! I want to finish reading it to him but I’ll never get that chance because of you.” You took a step closer, ready to go through him to get out the door but he surprised you by sliding down the white panel until his ass planted on the floor. Charles pulled his knees up and wrapped his arms around them as he looked down to hide in shame.

The moment of silence dragged on as his breath grew as ragged as yours and you both relived that day in the hospital.

“I’m sorry,” he stressed as he threw his head back, the thud heavy against the wood. “I’m fucking sorry! For all of it. I didn’t deserve the time I got with him, I don’t deserve this career - it should have been his, like you. I definitely don’t deserve you.”

You slumped to the floor too with your back to the kitchen cabinets. This was not how you imagined your evening going. The plan had been simple; stay the night with Charles and arrive at the paddock for his first practice together - hard launching the relationship and confirming all the rumours that you had both started.

“When did this become your pity party?” you asked as you studied the herringbone tile floor instead of the enigma sitting opposite you.

Charles’ jaw dropped and he shook his head as he stammered over his words. “It’s not…I’m not…that’s not what…”

“How do you make it through interviews? One question and you’re a blithering mess.” You rolled your eyes and stretched your leg out to nudge his foot. “You are wrong by the way. I wasn’t meant to be Jules’ either.”

“I know.” He nodded and sighed, wiping his nose that had turned pink. “It probably doesn’t change anything but I finished it. I read him that book before he…before he died.”

You pushed yourself up to your feet and offered him your hand. His palm was clammy against your skin and you barely made any effort to pull him up as he did the work himself, rising to his full height in front of you. “You’re right, it doesn’t change anything,” you admitted, watching his shoulders deflate. 

“Figured as much.”

“But,” you said as you held a finger up when he went to move away and he froze, “that was a proper apology that actually felt real.”

“So you forgive me?”

“No, I don’t even know how to do that, but I’m not going to leave.”

He smiled like it was a small victory and enveloped you in one of his spontaneous hugs that you were slowly growing used to. “I don’t know how, but I am going to make it up to you one day. I promise.”

“How about you start with just making dinner?” You stepped out of his embrace and looked around the room with weary eyes. “I’m not going to find any more surprises, am I?”

He chewed his lip as he thought for a moment. “I have his helmet in my office but the door is closed.”

You swallowed deeply and nodded. You were going to avoid that room at all costs. “Keep it that way.”

Panic gripped you as the bike started to wobble. Your feet tangled in the pedals and your fingers slipped from the brakes before the gravel driveway rapidly came up to meet you. The skin on your knees stung with the dozens of little stones that grazed them and your elbows were in a similar state as you lay sprawled beneath the summer sun. 

“Up you get,” Jules said as he dusted the stones off and picked you up. 

Your bottom lip began to tremble and he shook his head. “There’s no use crying, lapinette, might as well laugh and learn.”

“I don’t want to laugh,” you grumbled, kicking the bike to emphasise your displeasure.

Jules shrugged and picked the bike up, holding it out for you to try once more. “Well, that’s usually when you need to the most.”

You accepted the bike and looked longingly at the trainer wheels he had taken off. The plastic wheels were beside his kart that was propped up on a stand, some of the parts in pieces for him to finish cleaning before he rebuilt it for the race. “Do you think you can win?”

“Absolutely, just like I know you can ride that bike.”

“I fell off.”

He laughed at your attitude and knew you would be a handful when you grew up. Pointing to the driveway he said, “Then you better try again, no? Because if you don’t ride it then I can’t win!” 

You laughed at the stupidity of the statement but rose to the challenge, throwing a leg over the pastel pink bike and ringing the little bell on the handle for good luck. “You better win, Jules.”

You took a deep breath and pushed the pedal down, slowly building momentum. The wind blew your hair back and you laughed as you realised you were doing it. You were biking…straight towards the wrought iron gates.

You jolted awake in the unfamiliar bedroom and found Charles sleeping soundly. Though you had woken before the impact came you knew Jules had saved you. The lanky teen had sprinted after the bike and grabbed you from the seat before it careened into the metal, buckling the front wheel. You hadn’t quite mastered bike riding that week but Jules still won his karting race.

Sleep was as distant as the memory that had resurfaced so you quietly slipped from the room and found yourself at the bookshelf. Sometimes you wished you had no memory, then you couldn’t be reminded of how happy you had been. But, on the flipside, if you didn’t have the memory you feared you would never know what happiness was at all. 

When Charles woke to an empty bed he wondered if you had left after all despite watching you fall asleep beside him. It was only the sound of the balcony door sliding open that let him breathe a sigh of relief and he climbed out of the bed to check on you. A cool breeze left a chill in the air of the living room and Charles grabbed the blanket that hung from the back of the sofa before he stepped outside.

“You’ll catch a cold like that,” he whispered to the night. The Ferrari shirt you wore fell halfway down your thighs but curled up on the outdoor settee had the red material barely covering your underwear and Charles covered the bare skin with the blanket.

“Bad dream?” he asked as he took a seat beside you and noticed the book in your hands. 

“Worse,” you replied. “A good memory.”

Charles draped his arm over the back of your seat, his fingers softly touching your shoulder, and he tucked his legs under the blanket too. “Want to talk about it?”

You gave him a look that made him chuckle before turning your attention back to the page. You were halfway through the story and you could finally appreciate the action thriller now that you understood the vengeance Jack Reacher felt and the way he fought but even that wasn’t enough to distract you from the dream. With an irritated sign, you closed the book and took to searching the stars instead. 

“Charles?” He hummed quietly and you looked across to see his relaxed state watching the dark sky too. “If I ask you something, can you just do it without reading too much into it?”

He tore his eyes away from the brightest star in the sky and frowned. “Uh, I guess it depends on what you ask me.”

“I want you to kiss me.”

His lips curled up in a slow smile and his fingers danced across your collar to the base of your throat as he leaned in. “You don’t have to ask me.”

“It’s not because I like you, I just need something to stop me thinking,” you clarified. 

“Again, you don’t have to ask me.” His lips brushed against yours before they teased your jawline and his breath warmed your ear. “You can use me however you want.”

It was already a messy situation and adding sex to the mix was only going to end badly but you needed it. You needed to forget the thoughts racing through your head and you needed the high of an orgasm. Charles was more than willing to give you both when he carried you back to his bed.

The next time you woke you were in a far better headspace.

You felt the ghost of a kiss on your cheek before Charles left to get ready for the day but you buried your head deeper in the pillow and tried to ignore the sweet ache in your body. It was impossible. Your core throbbed with the memory of how he had filled it and your thighs pressed together in search of friction only to feel the beard burn he had left between them. 

“Fuck,” you groaned as you realised you would not be getting back to sleep.

“Regretting your life choices?” Charles asked from the doorway, two mugs of coffee in his hands and not a lick of clothing to be seen.

“On the list of my regrets, this doesn’t even register,” you said as you sat up and accepted the hot cup, your state of undress not much better. “But it would have been easier if you sucked in bed.”

“How’s that?” He lifted his pillow up against the headboard and took a seat with an amused grin at the compliment.

“For starters, I wouldn’t want to do it again. Things are already complicated enough and now I have technically been fucked by my boss.”

“If you want to get technical, you fucked me,” he pointed out with a smirk. “You were in control, babe.”

You took a deep breath and told yourself it was too early for violence, even if he was right. Charles had been quite clear on the fact you were in control, especially when he sat in much the same position against the headboard and let you ride him into oblivion. “Maybe it will make it on my list of regrets after all.”

“You can worry about them later,” he said after a few mouthfuls of his coffee. “We should start getting ready to head to the track and your hair screams ‘sex’. Bathroom is across the hall, there’s a new toothbrush in the top drawer if you need.”

“Wow, a spare toothbrush? That screams manwhore.”

“I’m just being a gentleman, you’re the one that swallowed.”

You nearly spilled the coffee with the laugh that bubbled out of your mouth unexpectedly. “Ah, there’s the regret. I knew I should have snowballed you.”

His nose wrinkled with the idea and you laughed darkly. Next time he would probably hesitate and remember this conversation. You froze. You were already thinking about the next time you would fuck and that was enough to stun you silent so you busied your mouth finishing the drink. 

It was hard not to fall in love with the atmosphere of race week in Monaco. Arriving hand in hand with Charles had the desired effect and you were still feeling the ripples of it as the day ended. 

“I’m exhausted and I didn’t even do anything,” you admitted through the headset as the private helicopter whisked you back to Nice. 

Charles flexed his hand that had furiously signed autographs right up until the moment he stepped inside the helicopter. “It gets like that sometimes but I only feel it after everything goes quiet.”

“Are you sure you want to come to this dinner? You can go home and rest. Jacques can fly you back.”

Charles reached across the seat and took your hand even though there was no audience to witness the touch. “And leave you alone with your parents?” he chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s not going to happen.”

“I have managed to survive 25 years on my own.”

“That’s a miracle in itself. I probably wouldn’t be trusted with the steak knife if that was me.”

You grinned at the joke and rested your head on his shoulder. “I like this dark side of you.”

“I suppose that’s a start.”

Your good mood was brought down the moment you spotted the mansion before landing. Too many cars lined the driveway for the simple family dinner your mother planned and you fell quiet as the helicopter touched down in the backyard. 

“What is this?” Charles asked, looking down at his casual jeans and sweatshirt.

“The tenth circle of hell,” you muttered.

Veronica was practically vibrating with excitement when you arrived at the patio door and she held out two tickets for the opera tomorrow night, as requested. “Silly girl. You have dinner with Prince Albert, you can’t even go.”

Charles knew better after seeing the many masks you had adorned to hide your thoughts but it still amazed him how quickly you could become a woman he didn’t recognise. A sneer grew, twisting your smile into a cruel mockery of the one he knew and your eyes narrowed as you swiped the tickets from her hand.

“Why didn’t you tell me that before?”

“I tried, but that’s what you get for being a spoiled little brat.”

“Alicia! My room, now!” Your voice carried through the mansion and you stormed up the stairs with Charles following behind, his cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment. The maid was already waiting outside your bedroom door when you arrived and you barrelled inside, slamming the door shut in Veronica’s smirking face.

The dress hanging in the closet was still wrapped in the garment bag and you took it off the hanger, holding it out to Alicia. “Get this dress out of my sight! I never want to see it again.”

Alicia looked a little shocked at the outburst you needed to be heard through the door. “But it is McQueen.”

“I don’t care!” You lowered your voice to a whisper and reached into your pocket. “Here’s two tickets to La Bohème, take the dress and go with Javier. You didn’t think I forgot your anniversary, did you? Go.”

Tears filled Alicia’s eyes and she threw her arms around you. “Thank you.”

You shook your head and sincerely said, “You deserve more than this.”

Alicia dipped at the waist and delicately hung the dress over her arm as she walked to the door. Veronica saw the tears in Alicia’s eyes and shook her head as the quiet maid rushed down the stairwell.

“Your father will hear about this tantrum.”

You tipped your nose up and crossed your arms smugly. “I’m his only child, that makes me his favourite by default. Now run along and tell him.”

Veronica turned on her heel with a scoff and you closed the door before sighing heavily. You would probably pay for the insolence in one way or another but it was worth it.

“Why did you do that?” Charles asked as he reached past your hip and locked the door.

“I couldn’t pay for the tickets myself and they already think the worst of me, might as well play the fool for a good cause.”

Charles opened his arms and you stepped into the embrace. He could see how draining the act was and couldn’t wait until the day you left Nice. “You’re a good person,” he said quietly before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“I don’t think the guests downstairs would agree with you. I don’t even know why they are here.”

You found out soon enough when you emerged from your room dressed in more appropriate attire. Just as you suspected, it was punishment and you would play the fool once again for your mother’s entertainment. You felt sick seeing the grand piano in the dining hall and your fingers stiffened at the thought of sitting in front of the guests to play at her whim.

“Are you okay?” Charles asked as he saw your pallor fade.

Forcing the discontent away, you smiled in time for the first guest to spot your entrance into the room. “Just peachy, Charles. Ready to act lovesick?”

He didn’t need to act, and you found it all too easy that maybe it wasn’t acting either. Your body fit perfectly into the curve of his arm and you moved together through the room making introductions. But all too soon your mother dragged you away and snapped her finger at the piano.

“The Economy Minister favours Beethoven,” she whispered with a look to the man your father was for lack of a better word, schmoozing. “Don’t fuck this up.”

Click here for next part.

[canthelpit0]

Enemies (with benefits)

Pairing: Cold!Chris x Reader

Word count : 1,489

Summary: Chris and reader have always been enemies ever since they’ve known each other. neither knew why they had this burning feeling in their gut. So one day they decide to fuck it out. Until, eventually doing it regularly

Warnings: smut, p0rn with plot, a LOT of plot, angst, name calling (bitch, slut, etc.), p in v, rough x, mentions of safe word (not used), rude/cold!Chris, degration, friend with benefits, awkward, (implied) RichKid!reader, no love (😔), unprotected, creampie, no after care, no use of y/n, no oc

(A/N: this is my first ever fanfic that I’ve posted on tumblr. So ya, I’m shitting bricks. Please give me feat back on my writing, and what I can improve. Also English is not my first language so I’m sorry for any mistakes. Hope you like it!! :D)

PT1 PT2 PT3 PT4 FINAL

Ever since I can remember, I’ve known the triplets. The sturniolo’s and my family were always really close. And ever since I can remember, I’ve hated Chris.

Now, enemies was a harsh word. A bit of an exaggeration. It wasn’t like we were at war for opposing countries. We were more like rivals. In every aspect.

Sometimes it felt like the only reason Chris studied for school, was to beat my grade. He wasn’t really stupid, but he was definitely not book smart.

The problem wasn’t that. We’ve always lived normally, simply hating and avoiding each other. After all he was my longtime nemesis.

Until that one fateful night where we’d been at my house. My parents have a big business so they’d frequently be on business trips. And it just so happened that that night my younger siblings were not home, both of them being at their separate sleepovers with friends.

We’d been paired for some project. And naive me thought, that it’d be fine. We could be civil for a few hours. But I thought wrong. The hatred was too strong and the tension was too thick in the air.

Seemingly everything I did made him agitated. And vise versa.

Until he finally snapped and we got into a full fledged argument, wich turned into a yelling match. However it all went quiet when he crashed his lips onto mine.

Breathing heavily I had kissed back, hard. It was easier to battle about with a kiss, rather than screaming. And like hell was I gonna be dominated by Christopher fucking sturniolo.

So the night progressed. He had me, my face buried in the sheets babbling out nonsense and screaming his name. But not in anger like I usually would.

It had been months since that happened, and it still haunted me. The idea that it even happened. That his lips had been on mine, his dick literally inside of me, that I was literally under him, disgusts me to my core. But it didn’t matter. It was one of many times.

Sometimes it was a quickie, sometimes an all nighter. Sometimes Chris was dominant other times he was not. Sometimes it was at my place other times at his.

And it wasn’t like those cliché stories of friends with benefits where one fell in love. This felt more like an urge. Like neither of us wanted to actually hook up but we were irking to. This was better than having a yelling match. And on the rare occasions I was dominant it felt great making him shut up and take it. It felt equivalent to winning an argument. The whole point was to teach a lesson, and express annoyance and anger without directly doing that.

“Chris-“ I let out a sharp cry, even the pillow that my face was buried in didn’t really make the scream sound quieter.

His hips keep drilling into my core hitting all the right spots to make me weak in the knees.

Sex with him, objectively, felt good. In the moment. He knew how to please a woman. But he also knew that he was pushing it right now.

“Don’t fucking tell me to slow down.” He snaps his tone, and words as harsh as his breathing. “You have a safe word. Use it if you need to. And other wise, shut, the fuck, up.”

I only let out a sharp whine when he seems to pick up pace even more. He’s made a mess of me. We’ve been at this for hours. Literally.

I’ve come more times than I can count and Chris wasn’t showing any sign of stoping anytime soon.

My back arches perfectly, but I’ve been in this position for too long for it to be comfortable. Him leaning over my back occasionally leaving harsh slaps on my ass while his other hand stayed firmly im my hair.

His hand being tangled in my hair as he was both pulling it, but also pressing me down into the pillow under me.

I feel the ache in my cunt subside again, as a knot starts to form. I’m close, again, and I don’t know if I can keep going after.

“Chris” I scream his name loudly panting and moaning. “I’m- close” I can barely form a sentence. His thrust are hard enough to knock the air out of my lungs every time.

“Oh ya?” He harshly slaps my ass causing me to moan loudly. “How much more you think this pussy can take?” He huffs his tone ever so cocky.

He always did this. He liked being dominant and absolutely wrecking me as much as he can. And he knows I’m close to breaking, and that’s what makes it worse. I just know he gets a wired satisfaction out of exerting me.. using me, like this.

His hand stays firmly in my hair tugging harder. His other hand trailing from my ass to my clit as he starts to rub on it harshly.

I clench instinctively, my whining and moaning getting even louder. “I’m gonna-“ a harsh slap on my clit catches me off guard.

Chris keeps going. “Fucking slut. You like getting destroyed like this?” he mocks, his tone condescending as his pace doesn’t let up.

“Go on bitch, cum on my cock. Come again.” He urges. And the rubbing of his fingers on my clit and the relentless torture to my cunt is threatening to push me over the edge.

“Can I come in that pussy again?” He asks his voice coming out strained and harsh from the pleasure.

“Yes-“ I’m cut off, again. As i am physically not able to speak with the pace he’s going at.

And the combined pressure of everything pushes me over the edge. Suddenly the knot in my stomach snaps and my body goes limp after loud moans. He goes for a few more thrusts before I feel the familiar hot liquid fill my cunt.

After a minute where we catch our breaths he slowly starts to massage my scalp knowing he’s been pulling on it for at least half an hour straight.

He pulls out not really gently, but not harshly either.

Hook ups with Chris always felt like one night stands, when they were really regular.

I let my body fall limp fully laying on my stomach as I sigh, content in my position, not attempting to move.

I can practically feel Chris watching me.

Normally I wouldn’t be this much of a mess. But than again normally we didn’t go for hours. Normally Chris used a condom. But today was not one of those days.

Sometimes chris had enough common sense to at least pretend to care.

But right now he was just staring.

“You okay?” He asks his tone gentler and more quiet than usual. He knew he was pushing it, but did he really care tho?

I shiver as I feel his hand start to rub over my back. Ever so gently pinching the skin to ease some tension.

“Ya”

My breath is short as I’m still calming down not doing or saying anything else.

After a while I turn around slightly, wincing as I lay on my back. My back hurt from the previous uncomfortable position I was in.

I opened my tired eyes, looking up at him, my eyes meeting his. I knew I probably looked like a wreck right now. My hair a mess because of all the moving and position changes as well as his pulling. My face having dried mascara and tear stains on it from when I’d been crying.

I was too tired to even hide my body. I just turned around not bothering to hide my chest as I did, I was too fucked out to care.

His lips pursed, looking over my face. But he wasn’t concerned. But rather disgusted at the sight. He was glad he made me look like shit, but I could see in his eyes that he would much rather be anywhere else right now.

After sex was the worst for us.

The arguments leading up to it were normal. The sex itself was great. But afterwards…

Usually he’d leave. But today he had gone far. He’s done worse before. But every time he did he felt like he should give me proper after care. But I can see the annoyance radiating off of him, and I just know he does not want to be here.

And as harsh as it sounds, he couldn’t really care less what state he left me in. He’s told me multiple times.

“You can leave.” I mumble sighing. My throat felt horse from all the screaming, crying and moaning, that I’d been doing. I’ll need to get a water soon.

He gives me a simple nod, quickly changing, then going to my bathroom to fix his appearance.

And than he leaves.

The room is quiet. Nothing to be heard, nothing to be said.

Masterlist

A/N: hope you liked it, this was literally my first time writing smut🫣 also I don’t have a taglist yet, so i just added my moots. Tell me if u wanna be added, or removed :D

��️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist : @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns

[efflorescencesims]

→ t-shirts with a bunch of random things i enjoy! ☆ new mesh, bgc ☆ 11 swatches + 2 bonus swatches ☆ feminine frame / teen-elder ☆ custom thumbnail ☆ disabled for random please lmk if there are any issues, since this is my first real piece of cc!!

*ೃ༄ download (sfs)

since this is a thank-you gift, you will find the thank-you notes under the cut (quite cheesy + long)

first of all: thank you so much for 100 followers!!

i especially want to thank all my mutuals for being such amazing people, hyping me up every time i post and blessing my feed with their incredible talent. i don't normally like singling people out because of my fear of leaving people out but i wanted to give a special special shoutout to @miralure and @simulatd because they are literally the sweetest people ever!!

my page is almost a year old but i've only been consistently active since october and if you look at my earlier posts you can definitely tell my edits have gone through a few transformations. even now i’m not entirely sure what my niche is. i wanted to thank you guys for supporting me even when i give you whiplash while trying to figure out what i want my page to be!

i feel a little proud with the progress i’ve made last year, or rather in the last few months. i’ve started learning how to use blender (which i never thought i’d do) and honestly it’s the most fun i’ve had in a while!! it allows me to realize my silly ideas and has almost no limitations. i’m still very new to it, but i’m looking forward to the this year and to all the progress i’ll make.

as for cc making, i have so much respect for cc creators and what they're able to do. going into this with no experience and time to practice (because i gave myself a stupid time limit) was definitely not my smartest move. these shirts honestly don't look the best, which is a little disappointing but if you don't want them, just ignore them and look at the preview instead (which kind of sucks as well) !!

if you read all of this: thank you!! and if you didn't: thank you still!!

i know i'm a little late but nevertheless i wish everyone a happy new year!! i'm so excited to see what this year has in store for us <33 much love & see you soon (because i do need a short break after this...)

[aealzx]

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Update Post

Prologue | AO3

Previous Next

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It wasn’t long after the kids had rushed upstairs that Leslie arrived, and Bruce escorted her up to Danny’s room with Jason following them. It would be easier for Leslie to have them all together in the same room, and Bruce knew that his two oldest sons would be the best at handling keeping Jazz calm. She had only just met Bruce that morning, and only briefly, without speaking to each other. He didn't think she would be that comfortable with him yet. So while Leslie started stitching up his sons, having taken some time to get Danny hooked back up to heart and blood pressure monitors, Bruce turned to Damian.

“I’m going to get the collection device. Can you ask Danielle to meet me here? It shouldn’t take long,” Bruce requested, knowing that Danielle was probably roped into trying on clothes with Stephanie, but still wanting to make some progress on one of his self assigned tasks.

“Yes, Father,” Damian agreed easily, heading off to Stephanie’s room with Titus following closely behind.

Bruce left the hallway to Leslie commenting to the others that she had been expecting a lot worse, and made the trip to the Batcave a quick one. The canister had been left on the work table after he’d changed, so it was easy to scoop up and hurry back upstairs. And when he returned Danielle was there, enthusiastically rubbing Titus’ cheeks.

“Who’s a big boy? You’re a big boy,” Danielle cooed, gushing over the dog that was almost the same height as her.

“That’s Titus. And this is Ace,” Damian introduced officially, pleased with Danielle’s treatment of the dogs.

“They’re both your’s?” Danielle asked, reaching over to pet Ace as well when he got close.

“Titus is. Ace belongs to Father,” Damian responded, starting to pet them as well.

“Cool! I have a dog too. Well, he’s actually Danny’s, but he likes me too,” Danielle chimed before noticing Bruce was next to them now. “Oh. What’s up? He said you wanted me.”

“Yes,” Bruce confirmed, gesturing for Danielle to enter the bedroom with the others so that Jazz would be aware of what he was asking Danielle to do. “I had Cass take this on patrol with her, and wanted to see if it was collecting the correct substance. I thought you would be the best to confirm if it is,” he explained, briefly showing Danielle the canister Cass had given him at the parking garage before twisting the device in the middle. Pulling the top away, he revealed the ping pong ball sized glass orb inside, holding still when Danielle looked closer.

Inside the glass was a gently swirling, green liquid that was softly glowing very faintly. It was a lot more pale in color, and thinner in consistency than Danielle was used to. But without the metal barrier she could definitely pick up on the faint, familiar signature. “Oh my gosh, you found some!” she gasped, snatching the bauble from Bruce and holding it up to look at it. “Jazz, they got ecto!” she exclaimed, glancing at Jazz before looking back at the liquid. “Or at least it seems like it. Normally it’s a little… more,” she hummed, swirling the contents a little and scrunching her face slightly.

Jazz seemed stunned, not sure how these people were able to find something that she and her family had spent two months looking for. And what they had found had only been a corrupted version of it. Was this the same?

Without asking Bruce for permission, Danielle placed a finger on the opening of the bottle and tipped it over to get some of the substance on her hand. Rubbing her thumb against it, she noted that it definitely seemed to be ectoplasm, just not as concentrated as she was used to. And when she confirmed that she abruptly took a small swig from the bottle, smacking her tongue at the taste and ignoring the mildly startled expressions from the others. “Yeah, that’s definitely ectoplasm,” Danielle confirmed despite looking at the bottle again in mixed disappointment. “But it’s like… the skim milk version or something. It’s very diluted.”

The analogy made Dick snort softly, but Bruce breathed a small sigh of content. It wasn’t perfect, but it was still progress. “Much better than the Lazarus water though?” Bruce asked, holding his hand out for the bottle to be returned, glad she didn’t drink it all just yet.

“Oh, way better,” Danielle agreed with an enthusiastic nod. “That was more like rotten milk from months ago. With all the chunks and mold.”

This time the analogy made Dick gag a little, and even Bruce grimaced. “I’ll take your word for it considering I’ve never personally tried milk that was that spoiled,” he chuckled, replacing the bottle into the canister to seal it again. “It gives me a better idea on what to work towards. I’ll see if I can modify the next collection device to be able to draw a less diluted strain from the environment. How much do you think we’ll need?”

“Cool,” Danielle grinned, only somewhat excited considering it didn’t seem to be completely ready or useful yet. “Honestly, that was like… half a blueberry all together,” she gestured to the bottle. “I could get that from sitting in a graveyard around here for an hour. So it’s not a lot, but if you can manage to get more, faster, then it’ll probably be good.”

That was a significantly smaller amount than Bruce had been hoping for, but he would accept it. Like Danielle implied, it was still better than nothing. “Thank you. That was all,” he bid, letting Danielle choose to stay or not as he headed further into the bedroom, standing next to Leslie as she was finishing securing the bandage on Dick’s forearm. “How is everyone?”

“Your boys will be fine. Nineteen sutures for Dick, and twenty two for Jason. Just keep the sites clean and dry, like you’re used to,” Leslie reported, turning to face Bruce on the stool that had been provided.

“No signs of a concussion in either of them?” Bruce asked, just to make sure considering the blow Jason had taken to the head.

“Not that I can see,” Laslie confirmed, wordlessly shifting her body towards Danny and following through with the intent when Bruce nodded to allow her to continue her work. “I was hoping to see more improvement in this one compared to last night, but as far as initial vitals tell the variations in readings are within the same parameters. I’ll need to take a full blood sample to run some more comprehensive tests. Did you have something you wanted to try on him?”

It wasn’t a reassuring report, but it also wasn’t one that was unexpected to Bruce for someone who was in a self induced stasis. But something about the phrasing, and the way Leslie had turned Danny’s arm to face palm up and started to feel for a vein while asking if Bruce had anything to test on him made Jazz jump to her feet. “Absolutely not!” she shouted, roughly shoving Leslie away from Danny and standing protectively in front of him.

Bruce was quick to catch Leslie and lift her to her feet before she fell to the ground, quickly taking in Jazz’s reaction as well as what had led to it.

“Jazz?”

“What was that for?”

Dick and Jason’s questions were confused, but Jason was also wary. Neither of them liked the treatment of their doctor, but neither of them were dumb enough to not notice Jazz was reacting out of fear.

“What’s going on?” Danielle’s voice came from the hallway as left petting the dogs in favor of running into the room, placing herself between Jazz and the others and raising her fists slightly just in case. That was until Jazz grabbed her and pulled Danielle behind her as well, raising her arms to block both her siblings from the others.

“I said no,” Jazz emphasized. She was trying to glare at them, but her shaking form was far from intimidating. “If you think, for one second, that I’m going to let you experiment on my brother and sister then you have another thing coming-... W’what…?”

Bruce reacted quickly after his eyes scanned the surroundings, gently pushing Leslie behind him and holding his hand out for Dick and Jason to stay back as well. And as Jazz revealed her concerns that they were trying to experiment on Danny, Bruce took one step back before she finished, causing her to falter.

“...I would never experiment on your family, Jazz,” Bruce assured, keeping his voice more on the gentle side and avoiding trying to deny her assumption. She didn’t need to be told that wasn’t what their intention was. She needed to be assured that it would never happen, regardless of any circumstances surrounding them. “Nor would I allow anyone else to try. It doesn’t matter if he’s not a typical human, he still deserves to be treated like one.”

While Bruce’s words cleared up any confusion Dick and Jason had about the reaction from Jazz, they only served to incite confusion in the girl. She hadn’t expected him to say anything like that. In her mind he would either deny that the blood draw was for experiments, or would openly admit what they intended. Not tell her what she and her siblings and parents had been trying to prove to other people for months now. That ghosts were still human, and deserved to be treated as such.

“...W’what?” Jazz repeated, her defenses faltering.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” Bruce reinforced, slowly lowering to kneel on the floor, allowing Jazz to look down on him instead of him towering over her, keeping his hands visible. Dick and Jason supported the action by backing away more while also keeping their hands visible, giving them plenty of space. When Jazz didn’t vocally respond, Bruce continued. “We won’t take anything from Danny, or Danielle, without clearly stating what it’s intended for, and getting permission first. With Danny being unable to answer, we’ll defer to you for that permission.”

Jazz looked like she wanted to believe Bruce, but was afraid to. Her arms lowered in favor of wrapping around Danielle and carefully holding her close. She found it hard to respond, the words in her mind a jumbled mess. “I’i… I don’t understand. Everyone who knows tries to hurt him. Even our parents did… until they found out it was him.”

That was concerning to hear, but not shocking. “Those people aren’t here,” Bruce assured, shifting his hands to be offered to Jazz instead, palms up. “And you didn’t hurt him. Neither did the others,” he reminded, noting how her breath shuddered as it left while she made the connection in her mind. There were people who wouldn’t hurt ghosts just because they were ghosts. It was going to be okay. “Let’s take a minute to focus on you, okay? Maybe just sit, and take some deep breaths?”

It was only an offer, but Jazz couldn’t keep herself from collapsing to her knees, tears budding in her eyes as she brokenly stared at Bruce. Ever since they had taken her and her family in she had been afraid they were just playing at being nice. Just waiting for a time when they could start researching her siblings. But even though she’d accused them of trying it, they didn’t behave at all like she’d thought they would. It wasn’t fair. How dare he give her the chance to not be in charge for once. Why did he have to tell her it was okay to prioritize herself for the time being? How long had it been since she started telling herself it would be just a little longer and everything would be okay?

As Bruce started to visibly breathe slowly, coaxing her to do the same, Jazz broke into sobs while trying to mimic him. That little bit of familiarity that she knew from studying about how to help calm someone who was panicking was giving her something to latch onto that for once didn't just bring more self doubt and stress.

At this point Dick couldn’t keep himself back any longer, especially if Bruce was only going to sit there. So he quietly, but still audibly, approached the others to kneel near Jazz while Danielle tried to comfort her sister by rubbing her back. “Would you like a hug?” Dick offered, holding his hands out to the over stressed teenager.

“Uh huh,” Jazz accepted with a sob, nodding as she shuffled forward to accept the hug and hiccup into Dick’s shirt, a muffled apology half voiced.

“It’s okay, we understand,” Dick assured, taking over for Danielle and rubbing Jazz’s back while holding her firmly. “There’s been a lot for you to handle. And you did great. You can let us help take care of you now. We’ll keep you all safe.”

“And if you still have doubts, just remember forty one stitches and a piggy back,” Danielle consoled, trying to reinforce Dick’s statement even if it did earn a confused look from both Dick and Jazz.

“...What?” Jazz hiccuped, the confusion stilling her crying just enough to respond.

Danielle just grinned. “Nineteen,” she said, pointing to Dick, “and twenty two,” now to Jason, “makes forty one stitches. And they carried me home, even after getting cut up,” she explained, gaining a rare, warm but huge smile. “That’s more than the Guys in White ever did for either of us.”

Jazz stared at Danielle for a long stretch, finding it hard to comprehend how something so simple was so hard for her to have used as proof before that this family not only wasn’t going to hurt her family, but was going to go out of their way to help them. She felt a little embarrassed now, cheeks burning hot as she turned to smother her face in Dick’s shirt again. “...I’m so sorry,” she apologized again, her tears abating significantly.

Dick could only chuckle lightly, giving her a soft pat on the back, and another rub. “Nothing to be sorry for,” he assured again. “Like I said. We understand.”

And they did. Though Jason had to somewhat marvel at being able to see what it was like to not be on the receiving end of Bruce or Dick’s calming methods.

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Theeeere's like 5 different topics I've been struggling to get organized in my brain which led me to completely rewriting this section maybe 4 times, and actually only half of this part stayed as part of this section while another thing as added and the other half is getting shoved to the next part X'D This was after spending like 6 hours researching dialysis, what systemic meant versus sepsis, blood poisoning, learning that was completely different than poison throughout the bloodstream, also looking up plant toxin chemicals, looking a lot into alkaloids, getting so confused I asked my mom about all this stuff and learned about ricin and umbrella assassinations. @ v @ my brain started to hurt, and I info dumped with my beta reader to try and figure things out and still ended up rewriting everything. X'DD

why all that is relevant will be part of the next parts X'D

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Tag list: @galaxy-sharks-and-bottled-ships, @starscreamlover, @nerdynonnativenarnian, @dragongoblet, @megacharizardx99

@bellathecatastrophe, @cj-ghostemoji-destielpie, @asexual-insomniac, @wolfeyedwitch, @tkiesai, 

@fanaroff, @raven1508, @nebulainajar, @serasvictoria02, @oliocelottafanfics,

@honeysuckletook, @omniithe-deer, @wolf-under-the-stars, @gingernutcalo, @that-random-fangirl,

@op-sys-chaos, @kirasigncomics,

[seireitonin]

Dating: Eyeless Jack

Have to talk about someone besides LJ and Toby so here’s some EJ as requested! Sorry I lost your OG question whoever sent it :( Ik EJ has no “canon” backstory but the one I grew up with and the one that the fandom uses the most is the college/ cult one so that’s the one I’m using :3 also I hc EJ a bit different so yeah :3 I had to rewrite this 4 times bc the progress kept getting deleted 😭

After multiple years of living off human organs in the forest, EJ has lost most of his social skills

So he doesn’t really try

He just sneaks into peoples homes, takes what he needs and leaves

He set his sights on you. You were perfect.

Your house is close to the forest, you live alone, you seem to sleep pretty heavy

He’ll be in and out no problem

So he sneaks into your home, quietly. Not waking you

And he stands over you, looking down at you

It’s ironic because he has no eyes, yet the demon inside him lets him see through the dark clearly

He watches you sleep peacefully

Your chest rising and falling rhythmically, your perfectly placed features, your soft breathing

He definitely would’ve had a crush on you in college

College….the fact that you made him think of college, his old life at all in any way at all, he knew you were more than just a quick meal

So he left

What was his next step? Stalking you of course!

He watched you go about your normal days. Talk to your friends, eat your food and watch tv. Normal.

He fantasized about living normally alongside you

He didn’t ask for the life he had now after all, it was thrust upon him

Part of him almost hated you for being so carefree but he knew that wasn’t fair to you

Since he can’t be part of your normal life, you’ll have to be part of his weird one

He took you from your home in your sleep, only using the smallest injection of drugs to keep you unconscious

And you woke up screaming in his cabin in the forest

He hated you screaming at the sight of him

Not only because it annoyed him, but you’re supposed to be making him feel normal. You’re just reminding him that he’s a monster

“I’m not going to hurt you”

You stay silent for days you stayed silent and frozen in fear

Jack understands at first but after multiple days of your silence he gets angry

Part of him loved that he was able to take someone else’s normal life away like his was

After an unsuccessful hunt for food, he talks to you, upset

“What’s the point of you being here if all you’re going to do is stare at me?!”

You look at him silently still

“Say something to me! Anything! Just….talk to me like I’m….”

“Like you’re what?”

The first words you’ve said to him…

“Human”

You two start to talk. Not like you have much else to do

And after days of talking you start to weirdly get along with him. And you don’t even know what he looks like

He always covered head to toe, black clothes, black gloves, blue mask with his black hoodie covering his head. You were barely able to figure out he had brown hair because you saw one tuff

You don’t want to upset your literal captor so you don’t push it

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

“I…just don’t know what you look like”

“You don’t have to”

Jack is terrified of showing you what he looks like. How could he even explain his appearance. Talking with you has been the most normal he’s felt in years. If he shows you what he looks like…that feeling is over

“Please….”

He hears you ask softly

“No…you don’t need to see what I look like”

“You kidnapped me it’s literally the least you can do”

“……”

“I won’t judge”

“There’s so much about me I can’t explain. I… talking with you has made me forget about what I am. So please….let me savor this feeling”

You nod and respect his wishes

Then days turn into weeks and into months

And you ask again

“Jack, please let me see your face”

“No”

“It’s my birthday! This is all I want for a present!”

He legs out a sigh

“Is this really what you want?”

You nod

“Only if you take it off” he was fully ready for your look of disgust and screams of terror

And so you do and you smile at him as you take him in, his grey skin, soft brown hair that falls into his face a bit and sharp teeth oh and no eyes

“Why aren’t you screaming?”

“I don’t know”

Jacks been sleeping by your side since that night

You guys don’t call yourself a couple, but it’s basically what you are

But being with him isn’t all fun

When he had to hunt he comes back angry, not at you, but the fact that he has to do it at all

So he’s snappy, irritable and barely talks and he’s just not pleasant to be around when he’s like that

He hates hunting and feeding and won’t do it for days and only does it when absolutely necessary

When that happens the demon he’s hosting takes over and it’s terrifying

He gets much taller, he barely talks, becomes more animalistic and at night he just stares at you, like he’s trying to hold himself back from attacking you

He hates that you have to see him like that but he also hates hunting and feeding

When he feeds he will never do it around you

He’ll always go in another room but you can hear everything

You can hear the noises of him eating because he eats like a ravenous animal

You can hear his growling and panting and fleshy ripping noises as he tears into the meat of the organs with his teeth

He’ll come back to your bedroom blood, around his mouth, hands and the rest of him and you have to pretend everything is normal or he’ll get mad

“You think because I don’t have eyes I can see the way you look at me?! Stop looking at me like that!”

You can only look away

He can’t take you out like a normal boyfriend can because of the way he looks and it makes him upset

So when he sees you wanting to do normal couple things it hits a nerve

“You know damn well I can’t do that”

He’s upset that he can’t be normal alongside you and give you what you deserve

He tries to take you on walks around the forest but he knows you deserve more

He’s super possessive of you and keeps you by his side at all times. You’re the only thing that makes him feel normal

Even though he trusts you he always is watching you to make sure you don’t try to escape

Try to escape and there WILL be consequences

But hopefully it’ll never come to that

Jack sometimes gets really depressed about how his life turned out so sometimes if that happens he’ll just cry

Well, he’ll try to

The tar burned his tear ducts and he has no eyes so he’ll just make these heaving noises and they’re so sad to listen to

It’s so heartbreaking that he can’t do a human thing like cry

So you just hold him as he makes those noises, comforting him as best you can

“I wish I could look into your eyes, Jack”

“Me too”

He hasn’t had a romantic connection like this in years

His last romantic interest was Jenny the girl who made him this monster in the first place so sometimes he’s scared you’re going to somehow you’re gonna betray him

He knows he’s being paranoid though or so he hopes

On top of that he’s not good at communicating / being social at all since he’s spent so much time alone

So when he’s upset or angry or has a problem with you he won’t talk it out with you he just leaves or is quiet. Worst case scenario, just mean

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll get over it so just drop it.”

“But-“

“Drop it. Now.”

He gets better with communication as time goes on

Although he still really struggles with it

He’s also not very affectionate so it’ll feel like you’re alone even when he’s with you

He doesn’t do it on purpose, hes just so used to not receiving affection and he hasn’t given anyone affection in years

After some talks he’ll get better with it

He really does love you he just doesn’t exactly know how to show it

But he tries

He knows you can’t leave the house with him so when he’s out, he’ll get you your favorite food, a trinket or something else you like

“Here. I know you like this”

He sleeps much better now that you’re next to him

He’s grateful for you

He really is. You didn’t have to open up to him and accept him but you did and he’ll forever love you for that

Since your actual house is close to the forest you actually take him back to your house and live with him normally

You watch TV together, lounge around and get takeout that he can’t consume so he watches you eat it and just laugh and talk

When he’s with you, he’s normal. You’re his normal. His home. He finally found what he wanted in you

Although it’s not perfect, you’re together and that’s all he needs

[purpledisastertwin900]

For all of the “Raph raised himself AND his brothers” fans out there I bring this train wreck of a thought (I’m a lil sleepy so sorry if it doesn’t make sense or if I repeat myself a lot-)

We do not in fact have any actual evidence that splinter was neglectful to the boys when they were little. In fact, we have the opposite.

All of these flashbacks indicate that Splinter acc spent a LOT of time with his boys-

With Mikey, he was obviously coached in his art, a smol child can’t paint like that no matter how talented they are so we can see that splinter put in the time/effort to get Mikey the supplies and teach him how to do it well. Which probably means he researched and learned it himself first, idk I just can’t really see Yoshi knowing how to paint/draw that well but that’s just a theory.

With raph and Leo, their lemonade stand is structurally sound: obviously not put together by an 8 year old, and there’s a lotta lemons lyin around that were probably a bit difficult to find, and just LOOK at their faces here they are definitely familiar with this kind of father/son shenaniganizing-also just LOOK at raph. That’s a happy child, one full of excitement and happiness, not a kid who had to grow up too fast. Also his dad is literally right there in the picture

And then with Donnie, I can’t really tell what he’s doing in the background (it’s a bomb) but what i take from that screenshot is that Donnie feels safe/loved enough to come to Splinter when he gets hurt. And Splinters taking care of him!! And, Donnie is wearing clothes, which shows that he went out and got clothes for them but also didn’t force the boys to wear them if they didn’t want to (see other screenshots lol) which also goes to show that he lets his boys choose who they wanna be and what they wanna do. At any point he could’ve forced all of them to train as ninja, at any point he could’ve made clothes mandatory, and at any point he could’ve forced them to drop things that made them happy like skating or science or art but nah. He was supportive every step of the way.

Now am I saying he was perfect? No. Am I saying he couldn’t have done anything better? No. What I’m saying is that Raph acc did not have to raise himself and his brothers. Splinter acc gave them a pretty good childhood, all things considered and it kinda makes me sad when ppl bash Rise Splinter or continue the neglectful parent trope. Again, I’m not saying he did everything right, he def could have spent more time with his kids on an individual basis and he should’ve been more present, but let’s cut him some slack bc he did a really good job at raising the boys. And he got so much better as the show progressed! But that’s another post lol. I’m also not trying to take away Raphs oldest sibling syndrome, he still def has that from being the leader and watching his bros while splinter was away-I’m just saying he didn’t have to do it ALL alone.

Look in the end he’s doing his best and his best was really good for what they had. He’s a good dad, he’s not neglectful.

[tommykinard6]

Buddie fans, my loves, come have a seat for a moment.

I want to have a chat, from a long time Buddie lover to you, whether you’re new or have been here a long time.

It’s okay.

I’ve been in the trenches with you. I’ve been pulling for Buck and Eddie to get together for years. I haven’t given up, even as I’ve seen other fans leave because they lost hope. I don’t blame them. The Buddie section of the fandom has been powerful and beautiful and all consuming. We’ve gone seven seasons and up until this point, not one of the two men in question was even confirmed to be queer.

But we all need to take a moment and breathe. That’s it. Stop doom scrolling for a moment and breathe in.

Good. Now hold for a moment.

And breathe out.

I’m going to get real here, alright? And you might not like everything I say and that’s ok.

We need to stop being a problem. Stay with me. I’m not saying we need to stop shipping Eddie and Buck. Far from it. I will love that ship forever. I’m not saying we need to stop our fanfics or fanart or our love for these two. Our feelings are valid. Many of us have been in love with these two for a long time. The Buckley-Diaz family is a strong unit.

Our feelings are valid and we feel what we feel. But our reactions are utterly and entirely our own responsibility.

We need to stop the bullying.

Let’s face it, many Buddie fans have also been long time bullies in the fandom. Particularly in regard to the actresses who have played the female love interests in the past. Don’t get me wrong, aside from maybe Ali, I have disliked every love interest introduced. But have we not yet learned to separate actress from character? If we are going to dislike an actress, let’s do it for a valid reason. Marisol’s actress for example is problematic. But many fans have rained hell down upon any woman introduced.

I’ve noticed this issue for a long time. But now we’re dealing with the issue being even more widespread because of Buck/Tommy. Now fans are bullying each other. The fandom is divided, even in what is probably one of the better seasons we’ve gotten (in my opinion). I need you guys to stay with me here.

Buck is bi.

Let’s say that again. Evan Buckley is bisexual. A major character on a major show on a major network, previously a womanizer and still a very masculine figure, is queer.

This is monumental. This is amazing.

But so many of you are letting your feelings about Buddie get in the way of appreciating the progress we’ve made. Especially with the reintroduction of Tommy Kinard, Buck’s love interest.

Let’s clear up a couple of things, shall we? Tommy Kinard is not Sal DeLuca. He is not Captain Gerrard. While he was part of the old 118 and definitely was in the old boys club, not only is he not the major problem, but in most cases that he’s an asshole, it can be traced back to his own secret. It’s not great, sure. But let’s look at the facts. Chimney is friends and still keeps in touch with him. Hen appears to hold no animosity and was clearly comfortable with him. In Bobby Begins, they all are friends. And clearly, Tommy has undergone a massive self-growth period. You cannot try to back up your point with inaccurate facts.

People can change. People can also be forgiven. It’s the prerogative of those involved. Enough said.

“But TK6,” you may say, “Buck should be with Eddie! Tommy is a plot device!”

Let’s set aside instant gratification culture really quick and talk about storytelling. You cannot get everything you want when you want it. You also cannot have your cake and eat it too. Buck and Eddie, if both queer, were never going to come out at the same time. Do we really want that?! Because identity is messy. Self discovery is messy. Eddie has Catholic guilt. Buck has self esteem/worth issues. Life isn’t a fanfiction. The real possibility of their relationship surviving such a transition isn’t all that high. IF Eddie is canonically queer, he’s going to have a rougher path than Buck has had.

Also, everyone is a plot device. Let’s get real. If a character doesn’t move a plot along, what’s the point? YES, Tommy is there for a storyline. That doesn’t in anyway invalidate his existence or his presence in Buck’s life.

If you want an instant Buddie storyline, visit ao3! There are amazing stories on there.

Now let’s talk about Buck/Tommy, or TEvan.

I am a long time Buddie lover. I also proudly ship TEvan. Yes, those can coexist. I don’t often multiship, but it’s a beautiful thing. I want Buddie to be endgame, sure! But I’m also okay if TEvan lasts. If they end up being endgame, will I be disappointed about Buddie? Of course. I will also be thrilled because Buck and Tommy are a sweet couple and I’m here for it.

As a queer woman, I’m happy that Buck is bi. Multisexual representation is still sorely lacking. Male sexuality that lets a man keep his masculinity while being queer? Even more so. Just take a look at the ao3 tag. Buck is emasculated in many fics. That’s why I stopped reading a lot.

We have a ship here that includes two very masculine men, who are emotionally vulnerable and exploring something new. I understand ship disappointment. But the negativity is wild. We need to stop the bullying. We need to stop the cheating storylines. We need to stop making Tommy into an ab*s*r only because we apparently can’t handle a love interest being a good person.

At the end of the day, these are fictional characters. It’s a fictional show. But these are real people. All of us are sitting here behind our screens with real feelings. We need to stop.

Buddie may one day happen. And maybe they won’t. TEvan might be endgame. They might not be. Tis the way of 9-1-1. It’s exciting, isn’t it? Waiting for something new and exciting. It was starting to get a little stagnant.

As a queer person, I’m not trying to gatekeep anyone. However, we cannot sit here and say “stop queerbaiting us!!!!” (They weren’t, we’ve always had queer representation on 9-1-1) “give us more representation” and then when they give it to us say, “NO! Not that way!”

If it was about the representation, it being Eddie or Tommy would matter a lot less.

So if you are someone using representation to shield yourself, kindly just be honest with yourself and everyone else.

In the words of our Lady and Savior Taylor Swift, “You need to calm down”.

Now, back off into the world of scrolling you go, my lovelies. Remember, keep an open mind and breathe. At the end of the day, it’s a show. But I for one will happily wait for every episode because I’m loving this.

[blushweddinggowns]

Prompt number 2 bc I’m praying for more jealous Steve content. Bc Eddie can be so oblivious and Steve can be such a bitch and those things are so important to me

Eddie was a glutton for self-punishment, that was the only reasonable explanation he could come up with on what the fuck he was doing here. Sitting at some random gay bar as he watched the man he loved dance the night away with his bestfriend.

He just had to volunteer to be their designated driver. Maybe it was stupid, but Eddie thought that y'know, a gay bar meant that no he would not have to watch Steve flirt with some randos. But he forgot the small detail that bisexual people existed. And he had seen at least three damn girls slip Steve their number.

Which was just...so fucking cruel. Why did life always have to do him so dirty? Eddie had thought that maybe...if they went to this type of place together Steve's mind would open up a bit. A stupid fucking thought honestly. Based off of nearly nothing. Like, okay sure, Steve was all touchy feely with him sometimes. When he was high or drunk suddenly Eddie became his personal chair. And he would say just...the sweetest shit. Going on and on about how happy he was to have met him, how he's so glad he's alive and well, how funny Eddie was, how nice and sweet and pretty and...and all of it had sent his traitorous brain into a tailspin that had him thinking he actually had a chance with a straight guy.

And the fucked up part was that Eddie had really tried to start doing the right thing. He put a little distance between them when he figured out that he was past a silly crush. No he was head over heels for the guy and he needed to get over it. Fast. And if he could just start saying no when Steve called to get high or have a few beers together he probably would have made some progress by now.

But no, he was still to eager for contact with him to say no. Which made him feel like a creep, always waiting around for Steve to be a little out of his mind just so he could get a hug.

When did he become so pathetic?

The only slight comfort he had tonight was the fact that he wasn't alone. It really wasn't fair to bring a straight guy to a place like this, but at least every guy who had eyes on Steve was going to have to suffer in silence with him.

And some of them were kind of cute. Cute enough for Eddie to try and use one as a distraction. He was sitting next to a preppy looking guy, talking to him a little bit. Maybe he shouldn't have set his eyes on someone that kind of looked like Steve, but fuck it. His name was Andrew, and he was nice, a good flirt. The perfect diversion for when Eddie could tear his eyes away from Steve.

And things were actually getting a little interesting with him. He had his hand on Eddie's arm, leaning in to loudly whisper everything he said in Eddie's ear. He was smiling at him, close enough for Eddie to see the pretty gold flakes in his eyes.

They weren't as pretty as Steve's but they'd do.

Andrew tucked a bit of Eddie's hair back behind his ear, leaning in again. But he didn't go for his ear this time, no, he was zeroing in right to Eddie's lips. Not that he was complaining, he let it happen, a sweet, light kiss that had zero time to escalate to more.

Because suddenly, someone was tugging at his arm, hard enough to force Eddie's whole body back, nearly out of his chair. He blinked, more than a little startled to see Steve coming out of nowhere, clinging onto him with that stupid, gorgeous smile.

"Eddieeee," Steve whined, completely ignoring Andrew's presence, "Robin ditched me to make out with someone in the bathroom."

Eddie couldn't help but smile a little bit, despite the fact that he was definitely interrupting what was probably the first good thing about this night. He glanced over at Andrew, who was staring at them, wide-eyed before saying, "Uh, I didn't know you had a boyfriend."

"I don't-"

"I can't hear you in here," Steve loudly interrupted, looking adorably confused, "Come outside with me?"

If Eddie was smart, he would have gently pried Steve's hands off him before sending him off to find Robin. But...a drunk Steve was also a very cute and cuddly one. So fuck it, Eddie could find a rebound for his non-existent relationship next weekend.

He shrugged at Andrew, mouthing a quick apology at him before Steve started to drag him outside through the back door. Eddie half expected Steve to do his usual routine when he was toasted. Sweetly asking for a piggy back ride that Eddie literally could never refuse before falling asleep on his back. Then he'd get him in the car, wrangle Robin from wherever the hell she was, and they'd be off.

But the second they were stepping outside Steve was straightening up and stepping back, to Eddie's immediate confusion. He leaned against the wall, glaring at Eddie in a way he had never seen. Or at least directed at him.

"So," Steve started, his tone way too close to how he sounded when one of the kids pissed him off, "Who was that guy? You looked pretty cozy in there."

Eddie's brain was still struggling to catch up to the change in atmosphere here. But he tried to answer anyway, "I mean we were but-wait. Why are you not drunk? You were literally just-"

"It's called acting dipshit," Steve mumbled, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Which ow, rude. But his next words hurt even more, "Not like I have a choice, since you only seem to like me when I'm fucked up."

Eddie could feel his heart stop in his chest. He didn't-oh no. Oh god. Steve figured out he was a creep. A creep who was probably moments away from getting his ass handed to him.

Eddie swallowed, at a loss for what to say. But he still tried, "I-look dude it's um, it's not like that. I didn't- I wasn't trying to make you uncomfortable-"

"Then why the fuck would you kiss another guy right in front of me?"

Okay. That was enough of that. Yes, Steve could be mad about him being creepy, but no he couldn't be mad over having to bear witness for a gay kiss at a gay bar, "Well if I had known that you were apparently only okay with seeing girls kiss each other I wouldn't have come out tonight at all! Honestly Steve, how can you even say that? Like that is some real dumbass levels of homophobia, even for you. I thought the King Steve thing had died-"

"Shut the fuck up oh my god," Steve hissed out, "Are you really that damn dense? That's what you think I'm upset about? Are you fucking kidding me? And I'm the dumbass?"

"Then why are you mad?" Eddie half asked, half yelled.

“I’m not mad," Steve seethed, like he didn't look about five seconds away from choking Eddie out, "I...I just think you can choose better people to kiss.”

Maybe he really was drunk after all. Because now he wasn't making any damn sense.

Eddie pinched the bridge of his nose, beyond frustrated, "Who Steve? Like, I'm sorry to break this to you but not all of us can fucking look like you do alright? We're not all charming, golden Adonis basketball players okay? And sometimes you need to take what you can get. And there was nothing wrong with Andrew-"

"You think I look like a golden Adonis?" Steve interrupted, a weird expression on his face. He looked almost...hopeful? But that didn't make any sense.

"That's what you got out of that?" Eddie asked, exasperated, "I-come one dude. You know you're hot. But that's not my point."

"Well it's mine!" Steve groaned. He was biting his lips, a very distracting nervous habit that Eddie had picked up on, "Because what the fuck are we even doing? You think I'm so hot, so charming, so great, and you decide to kiss someone else in front of me? What the fuck is that? Do you like seeing me jealous? Do you get off on me pining? Please explain."

You see, that was the funny thing about Eddie's brain. One second he was lost, staring at Steve's red, bitten lips, and the next he was desperately trying to catch up with what just came out of his mouth. All of it the perfect blend to effectively shut his brain off completely.

Eddie stared at him, his words as dumb as how his face probably looked, "I-what? Huh?"

Steve narrowed his eyes at him, "Are we really doing this? Are you going to pretend like it's all in my head?"

"I-no. I just-please explain," Eddie is pretty damn sure he had never stuttered through a sentence that hard in his life.

"I've been coming on to you for months and you just keep giving me all of these mixed signals and..." Steve sighed, looking away, "I'm so sick of it Eddie. If you don't like me just say that! Stop whatever this is. Because it's mean and you know it. If you want a better option then just take it already and leave me alone."

He-what-that didn't even- Steve was straight, wasn't he? And now the stuttering had invaded his thoughts. Because if he actually understood all of that then...

He was the biggest idiot on the planet.

And his stunned silence was not helping anything.

Steve sighed, pushing himself away from the wall. He turned away, "I'm going to find Robin. We can just...act like this didn't happen I guess. I'm done."

Eddie had to give himself on thing, at least his body was working a lot faster than his brain. Steve barely had time to take a single step away before he was shooting his hand out to grab his wrist, stopping him in his tracks.

"I didn't know you were an option!" Eddie blurted out, his heart hammering in his chest, "I-Stevie I thought all of it was in my head. I-I thought that you were straight and we were just hanging out-"

"You think I sit in the laps of my other guy friends?" Steve asked, completely unimpressed, "While playing with their hair and calling them beautiful? Really, dude?"

Eddie nodded, sure and fast, "Steve, I had to do my senior year three damn times. I'm not always the smartest okay? And in my defense you never mentioned like dudes-"

"Yes I have," Steve interrupted, "When you came out to me, I told you to your face that I understand. That I could relate about hiding things and not talking about it. I literally said we were in the same boat. What else could that mean?"

Eddie remembered that, crystal clear. But..."I thought you were talking about PTSD, not secretly being into dudes."

"One dude," Steve corrected, but he was relaxing a little, thank fuck. Maybe Eddie could still fix this.

He took a deep breath, using his hold on Steve's wrist to pull him closer. His hands were fucking shaking, bad enough for Steve to almost certainly notice when he rested them on his hips.

This was it, he might as well be as clear as humanly possible, "I am so into you. Like a scary amount. Like I'm...borderline in love with you."

He was completely in love with him, but he didn't have the balls to say that bit out loud. He kept going, "And I didn't know you felt the same way. At all. Like I am dangerously close to having a stroke from hearing all of that. You kind of flipped my world upside down there."

Steve huffed out a laugh. Eddie may have fucked up everything leading up to this point, but Steve was eating his little speech right up. He shuffled a little closer, wrapping his arms around Eddie's neck with a small smile, "Keep going."

"I thought that I had no chance. I mean even tonight, people couldn't stop looking at you. And you got those numbers-"

"I threw them away," Steve interrupted, "You missed that part."

He had definitely missed that part, too caught up in his own head. But that didn't stop a smile from breaking out on Eddie's face, "Good. Because if you want me, you have me. I'm all yours, in any way you want me. Understand? Fuck, Stevie if I had known any of this we'd be the ones making out in the bathroom right now. And I'm sorry about..."

For the life of him Eddie couldn't remember his name, not when he had Steve smiling at him in his arms, "The other guy. But it literally means nothing to me. Not if I get to have you. Do...do I get to have you?"

Steve hummed, pretending to think about it while he played with a lock of Eddie's hair, "I guess that depends. Is making out in the bathroom still on the table?"

"Fuck yes it is."

Steve grinned, leaning up to press the sweetest little kiss to the side of Eddie's mouth, "Then I guess you have me then."

[asbealthgn]

(part one here)

Steve drives over the Munson trailer first thing in the morning after spending the night at Robin’s. He feels a little bad since he knows that Eddie doesn’t like getting up early, but Steve’s pretty desperate to talk to him. Now that he knows he has feelings for Eddie, he doesn’t want to waste a second.

Wayne’s truck is parked outside the trailer, meaning he’s home from work, but he’s probably in bed by now. All the same, Steve goes around to Eddie’s window instead of the door. He kicks a crate over to stand on to reach the glass and raps his knuckles against it. After maybe thirty seconds, Steve hears motion inside and sees Eddie appear at the window. Steve can’t quite figure out what his expression is—some mix of apprehension and embarrassment and hope.

Eddie slides open the window. “What do you want, Harrington?” he asks. 

“Can we talk?” Steve asks. Eddie stares back at him for a long moment.

“What about?”

Steve curls his hand around the window sill. “C’mon, you know what about.”

Eddie is silent for a long moment before shaking his head. “Can we just forget it ever happened?” he asks, “Pretend you never heard anything?”

“Eds, please,” Steve says, ready to start begging. “Will you just let me in? Or come out here so we can talk?”

He’s afraid Eddie’s going to shut the window. The way he’s eyeing it is definitely concerning, so Steve puts his other hand on the window sill as a deterrent. Eddie looks down at his hands and then sighs. 

“Meet me out front on the couch,” he says. He backs away from the window and disappears to where Steve can’t see him. This is progress though. 

Steve makes his way back around the trailer. He skips up the porch steps and settles in on the couch. A few seconds later, Eddie emerges wearing a hoodie, his hands inside his sleeves and arms crossed. It’s a little cold out here, but not freezing. Steve thinks it’s more a defense mechanism than a response to the temperature. Eddie sits down on the couch, leaving a couple feet between them. 

“Eddie—” Steve starts.

“Listen, I’m really sorry,” Eddie says, squeezing his arms tighter around himself. “I didn’t mean for you to hear that.”

“It’s okay, I—”

“I get it if you don’t want to be friends anymore, seriously,” Eddie says, “I know I made things weird—”

“—no, Eddie—”

“—but I do really want to be friends with you,” Eddie says, plowing over Steve. “Our friendship means so much to me, and I don’t want to do anything to fuck it up.”

“Eddie—”

“So please, please just pretend like I never said anything. I can get over it, I can—”

“—Eddie, will you please—”

“—I get that you’re straight, I know nothing will happen between us, I don’t want to ruin—”

Clearly this approach is not working. If Eddie isn’t going to let Steve get a word in edgewise then he’ll just have to resort to more drastic measures. And maybe this is really stupid, but it’s honestly the only thing Steve can think of to shut him up and get his point across at the same time.

He grabs Eddie’s face in both hands and kisses him.

If Steve still had any doubts about his feelings for Eddie, then this puts them to rest. He feels warmth spread out from his belly through the rest of his body. God, he likes kissing Eddie. It takes a few seconds for his brain to catch up and realize that Eddie is completely frozen against him. 

He pulls back. Eddie’s eyes are wide, mouth falling open. The seconds stretch without a response, so Steve speaks. “You didn’t ruin anything,” he says, brushing his thumbs lightly over Eddie’s cheeks. “And I don’t want to forget what you said. It’s what made me realize that I have feelings for you.”

That finally gets a reaction out of Eddie, a series of quick blinks. “You…have feelings for me?” Eddie asks, voice almost inaudible.

Steve nods. “I do,” he says, “I really do.”

“Kiss me again,” Eddie whispers. 

So Steve does, leaning forward and pressing his lips back to Eddie’s. This time, Eddie kisses him back, and fuck. This is everything Steve could have hoped for and somehow so much more. It’s only been about seven hours since he figured out he likes Eddie and he already doesn’t know how he’s lived his whole life without kissing him. He doesn’t know how he’s ever going to stop.

“Steve,” Eddie murmurs, pulling back slightly. Steve can’t quite hold back the whine that starts in the back of his throat, which makes Eddie smile. “We should go inside,” he says, glancing around. It’s not like there’s anyone else out here, but they’re still pretty exposed. 

Steve gets up and follows Eddie inside. As soon as the door shuts behind them, Steve grabs Eddie again and pushes him up against it, kissing him. Eddie starts to say his name, but Steve swallows the sound, desperate to never let go of Eddie again. 

From the direction of the kitchen, there's the sound of a throat clearing. 

Jerking back, Steve looks over and sees Wayne standing by the counter, eyebrows raised over the edge of his Garfield mug. His eyes are sparkling. 

“Mornin’, Steve.”

tagging: @bisexualdisastersworld @cr0w-culture @axl-is-online @awkotaco24 @justforthedead89 @bumblemyrtle @justmiiriam @brassreign @beautifulphantomstarlight @croatoan-like-its-hot @cosmicanamnesis

[lovelettersforthedamned]

Work, Then Play

--genre + trope: college!au, SMUT, fluff, nsfw, 18+ MDNI.

--pairing: college!peter x college!f!reader

--word count: 1.3k

--summary: you're just trying to power through your essay before the day ends, when needy and clingy peter decides to grace you with his presence.

--warnings: SMUT, grinding, unprotected PinV (pls for the love of god don't do this), creampie, aftercare, fluffy as hell, peter loves the reader so much.

The bright screen of your laptop is the only light illuminating the kitchen as you’re trying to finish your essay before the due date by the end of the week. The kitchen counter you’ve been working on is now buried underneath the sheets of notes, stacks of notebooks, and multiple novels you are using to create somehow the best end-of-semester essay you could come up with. You don’t know how many times you’ve run your hands across your exhausted eyes, pleading with yourself to keep going. 

While your nose is buried in your notes from class, you don’t notice Peter quietly sneaking behind you and engulfing you in a hug from behind. Your body jumps a little, before recognizing the body behind you. “Hey bug, it’s getting pretty late,” he mutters in your neck, finding a new place to rest his head. 

You lean your head to place yours on top of his, “I know, I know. I just need to finish this before the morning, or else I’ll never want to return to it.”

“And how much have you finished?” Peter’s peering onto your laptop to see how much progress you’ve made. 

“About three-fourths of it,” you respond quickly before adding, “But I swear I’m almost done.” 

“Sure, sure.”

You gasp dramatically, “Fine, doubt me, but I only have to finish the final body paragraph and-”. The familiar feeling of an open-mouthed kiss is felt on your neck, inciting a soft sigh to escape your lips. You know exactly what Peter’s doing, and it’s definitely not helping you finish your essay. “Peter…just wait till I’m done, please–fuck,” you plead before you’re cut off for the second time. 

There’s still no verbal response from Peter, but he’s seemed to not get the hint. You feel his breath lingering farther up your neck till he places a small peck on your cheek. He finally responds back to you with an answer you can’t deny, “C’mon baby, take a break with me. You deserve it.” At this point, the entire essay was not your main priority anymore. All you wanted was Peter. 

You quickly turn around to face him and give him a proper kiss, passionate and needy. You slowly rise from your chair, your legs a little wobbly from sitting, and start making your way to the couch a few feet away. You make Peter lay down on his back as you start to take off just your sleep shorts, Peter doing the same as he takes off both his sweatpants and boxers in one motion. Giggling, you climb back on top of him, just hovering over his cock as you kiss him again. He’s grabbing at your hips, trying so hard to get any type of friction.

“Please,” he whines, “just touch me, please?”

You love it when he gets all whiny and desperate like this, he just looks so pretty like this. As much as you adore him like this, you decide to give him something small. You lower your clothed core and begin to grind. The grip on your hips tightens deliciously. You smirk, knowing there’s going to be a mark to admire in the morning. 

The feeling of his cock hardening under you stimulates your clit as you continue to grind, a wet spot forming on the crotch of your panties. The mix of your arousal and his precum combining together. The smallest moans and grunts are leaving your boyfriend as he writhes below you. The sight is too perfect as your sounds become louder. 

You can tell he’s close by the way he has screwed his eyes shut and his hips are stuttering as he tries to buck into you. This is your sign to get off of him before he cums all over himself. Trying to escape his grip was harder than you thought, but still, you were successful. Another gorgeously pathetic whine escapes Peter as you lean back up, “Wha-What? Baby, why?” 

He looks like he could cry, and that makes you regret your decision slightly, but knowing what you have in store for him subsides that guilt. “Shhhh, it’s alright,” you respond, “be patient, my love.” Pulling your now damp panties to the side with one hand, you lean down to envelop him in a deep kiss before sinking down on his cock. You both moan into the kiss as your core swallows him completely. Giving him one last kiss, you place your hands on his chest for stability as you bring your hips up and slam them back down. 

There’s nothing polite about your motions as his cock starts to hit that spot inside you. Peter is completely euphoric at this point, he’s looking up at you as you’ve thrown your head back in pleasure. Reaching up to slide his hand under your sleep shirt, he squeezes the soft flesh of your breast. He loves it when you use him for your own pleasure like this, he wants to give himself up to you, entirely. 

You’re close as the rhythm you’ve created grows sloppy, your legs are tired, but you’re right there. Peter senses your exhaustion as he leans you forward to completely collapse on top of him. Wrapping his arms around you, he plants his feet on the soft cushion of the couch and fucks his cock into you. The sudden urge to take care of you this way is so primal. He thinks you deserve a reward for your hours spent working on that stupid essay. 

Peter is fucking you with such force and speed, that you don’t have time to announce that you’re cumming, but Peter already knew that. You fall limp in his hold as you’re orgasm pulses through your legs. The shock waves don’t stop as Peter keeps fucking you, almost reaching his peak as well. His beautiful eyes are screwed shut again as you look at his face. Taking both of your hands, you cup his face, causing his eyes to open and peer at you. Looking down at him with half-lidded eyes, you egg him on, “Are you gonna cum in me, Peter? Are you gonna fill me up, and stuff me full?”

He nods frantically, fuck, he’s so close. 

“Oh, you’re right there baby,” you add, “you’re right there.”

One final thrust from Peter, and he was shooting his load inside you. Nothing beats this feeling, the feeling of his seed inside of you is what you dream about. His eyes are closed as he starts to come down from his orgasm. Pushing the sweaty hair off his forehead, his eyes flutter open. A grin appears on his face before he opens his mouth to speak, “Hi, bug.” 

“Hi, my love,” a similar grin paints your features, “you feel alright?”

A blissful sigh leaves his face as he relishes the feeling, “Mhm, how about you?”

“So good,” a simple response was all that was needed. 

Not much was said after that, in fact, you were just about to fall asleep when Peter’s voice woke you. “Sorry for pulling you away from your work, I can help you with it tomorrow,” a pang of guilt in his voice. 

“It’s alright,” you respond, “I’d rather do this with you than write a stupid essay anyway.” 

Looking up at him, he gives you a kiss on your forehead before slowly guiding you both off the couch. Peter picks you up and carries you to your bedroom, walking past the mess on the counter that you’ll deal with in the morning. 

--author's note: i am so in my peter era (again, this is reoccurring) right now, so it might take a little bit before i post anything about the other characters on my masterlist...but tbh you guys eat peter fics up, so i hope you love this one. something sweet and smutty for you guys. don't forget to support your writers by liking, commenting, and reblogging!! also, my asks/inbox is open and im in dire need of ideas, plus i'd love to hear from you guys:) ok, ily bye.

[stardust-kenobi]

Nerves

Crosshair x F!Reader

Warnings: SMUT, angst, fluff, friends to lovers, soft and slightly ooc Crosshair (not much though, I think he really is a softy)

Word count: 2.7k

Summary: You'd been helping Crosshair work on his aim after his traumatic experience being held captive by the Empire. After not much progress, you get into a heated discussion when he tries to give up, which turns even more heated after he admits his feelings for you.

Read on AO3

“Try it again” You paced behind his stoic stance, doing your best to encourage him without showing any sign of your very present empathy. The slow-setting Pabu sun would still provide you both with another hour of visibility. The amber glow warmed your skin, which was a welcomed change of environment from being cramped on the ship for days on end. 

“Why?” Crosshair growled, fueled by the burning rage built up by his defeat. The tremble in his fingertips broke your heart, but you could see that he’d made progress from the exercises. It was slow, sure, but there were definitely improvements. T

“Because I said so. You won’t make any progress if you don’t keep trying” You emphasized, doing your best not to express your impatience with his pessimism. 

“It’s useless, Y/N” He lowered his blaster from his shaking hand and let it fall from his grasp before lowering himself to sit on the rock beneath him. You sighed, but this time your breath didn’t hold any frustration, only disappointment in his self-defeat. You couldn’t even begin to imagine what he’d been through, and you still didn’t know the extent of the torture he’d endured. Months had passed since he and Omega escaped. Omega had worked with him a few times, mostly with meditation, but you were better skilled with blasters and aim. 

Crosshair held his head low, focusing his vision on the sand beneath his sore feet. You joined him without another word, sitting next to him on the rocks that scattered the shore. There were no words to comfort him in this moment, so you opted out of a conversation this time. The breeze from the ocean enveloped your frame, almost as if pushing you closer to Crosshair. 

The seconds passed. Then minutes. All the while you soaked in each other’s company, for good or for bad. He was growing annoyed with you lately, despite being one of his closest friends, all because you were insistent upon helping to heal his trauma from his captivity with the Empire. 

As the moments passed, Crosshair never tried to leave his spot next to you. He didn’t push you away this time. This, you decided, was an achievement. 

The half-hidden sun drifted slowly below the horizon, replaced then by a casting a blue-toned light from the rising moon. It was peaceful, sitting together, communicating without saying a word. 

“I’ll probably head back soon. We’ll try again tomorrow” You spoke gently when breaking the silence.

“I’m done” Crosshair spoke softly, his tone was firm and assured. 

“Cross-” You sighed.

“I said I’m done” He reiterated, interrupting your plea. 

“You’re just going to give up?” You scoffed. 

“Seems so” He shrugged. 

You crossed your arms to your chest and stood in front of him now, staring at him in disappointment.

“You can stand there all night if you’d like. I’m not changing my mind” He muttered, finally looking up to meet your gaze. 

You pondered your next breath, but ultimately fell short on your words. With a subtle nod in his direction, you began walking away from your peaceful corner on the beach. 

“I’m sorry for what they did to you, Crosshair. But you can’t punish yourself forever” You spoke calmly as the distance between you grew. 

“What did you say?” He sneered, turning his body toward you, still sitting on the rock. 

You froze in your tracks. You’d struck a nerve. Good. 

“You heard me”

He slowly stood up and turned to you, “You think it’s my fault that I’m not improving?”

“You are improving, Crosshair. But, you’re giving up too easily”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about”

“I care about you, Crosshair. Believe it or not, I do. I know you’re not used to that but…you’re going to have to get used to it because I’m not going anywhere. And I’m not giving up on you”

His eyes grew subtly sorrowful as he stared into you, absorbing your words slowly. His head drifted from your gaze over to the open water that was now glistening in the moonlight.

“It's..my nerves” He said shamefully.

“Okay…” You tried to understand what he meant. Maybe you’d been pushing him too hard “Would it help if we took a break for a few d-”

“You. You make me…nervous” He admitted with a loud sigh trailing the end of his words like he had to force himself to say it. 

As you pondered what he’d just said, your heart fluttered with unexpected excitement. 

“What? How do I make you nervous?” You breathed out with what was almost a chuckle. 

“Forget it” he scoffed, picking up his blaster and turning back toward the island, passing you in the process. You grab his arm to stop him. He doesn’t resist even though your gentle touch should not have stopped him in his tracks, but it did tonight. 

“No. Tell me what you mean.” You demanded. 

Crosshair contemplated it for a second before yanking his arm from your grasp, “You really want to know? Fine”.

He looked toward the island as if to check and make sure you were alone. 

“I can’t…I can’t think around you. I can’t focus” He lowered his head,”I’ve tried to ignore how I feel around you, but it’s been just as useless as you training me”

For the first time in a long time, you were speechless. Crosshair was not a man of many words, nor was he one to express his feelings.

“Crosshair-” You tried to answer but he was uninterested in your counter argument. What he didn’t know was that there was no counter argument to be had. 

“Don’t. Just don’t” He groaned.

“I love you” You hurriedly responded spitting it out like it was stuck on your tongue. You laid  it all out plainly and simply. You loved him. You had for months. 

Crosshair’s expression held a look of pure disbelief that quickly transformed to warmth and content.

Your longing gaze pierced through his tough exterior. Something ignited within you as a tension pulled you into him, leaving hardly any room between the two of you

“I…” You whispered softly, but lost yourself in his eyes.

Without another breath, Crosshair curled his finger beneath your chin, pulling your lips up to meet his.

Nothing this electrifying had ever grazed your skin before. His lips pressed passionately against yours as if he’d waited years to do this. You leaned into him, resting your hands on his shoulders as your mouths became intertwined so rhythmically. 

Every fantasy you’d ever had of a moment like this that had always been shoved to the back of your mind came flooding back. Never did you think he’d feel the same way, but everything about his lips on yours just felt right. His finger beneath your chin trembled, and you were unsure how much it was from the overwhelming nerves of kissing you or the already present shake in his hands. You wrapped your hand around his, intertwining your fingers to calm him. The kiss was deep and raw, devouring each other as the motions intensified. A warmth spread through your body while your heart nearly lept from your chest. 

Slowly and hesitantly, you pulled away from the kiss to look up into his uncertain gaze. 

“You have no idea how long I have wanted to do that” He whispered, and a smile crept upon his face. Something rare and welcome that you never saw too often with him. 

“Me too” You smiled back, holding his hands in yours.

You wasted no more time before pulling him for another kiss. It was heavy and breathless. Your hands wandered from his to the firm muscles on his chest. Crosshair let his hands wander, too, until they hovered gently above your breasts. 

“Touch me” You breathed in between the motions of your lips. 

Your permission was all he needed. His hands explored your body like he was lost in the dark. Like he was starving for you. The boulders on this corner area of the beach kept you hidden in your own oasis, with very little concern of being discovered. Your fingertips found the hem of his black shirt, and tugged at it gently. 

“Here?” He pondered. 

“Why not?” You smirked. He nodded and helped you remove his shirt, revealing his battle scars and perfectly carved muscle. You admired it, trailing your hands down his abdomen. 

Conveniently, you had a blanket in your satchel that you brought with you. Crosshair rushed over to lay it out. He then took your hand in his and guided you to it.

“Lay down,” He instructed. As you did so, he hovered above you, his lips exploring your exposed neck and chest just above the neckline of your dress. You whimpered softly, unable to contain yourself even with the slightest of his touch.

His nervous touch was endearing as he traced up your thigh, searching for your most sensitive area. You shuffled your hips a bit, encouraging him to keep going 

“Are you sure?” He asked, his brows furrowed. It was a look of longing, concern, and desperation all in one. Crosshair needed you, but wouldn’t dare touch you like this without assurance. 

“Yes,” You breathed. 

He pulled your panties down, and you lifted your hips to help him remove them completely. 

He returned his fingers to your aching heat and discovered your arousal for him, which earned a small whimper from his lips. Crosshair knew exactly what he wanted to do to you. He’d surely thought about it enough in his head while he sat alone in his quarters, pumping himself to the fantasy of having you in his grasp like this. But, he was letting his nerves get the better of him now, and felt weary about how he’d perform for you. 

“Cross, please” You begged with a tone of reassurance. His hand rested on your thigh, just beneath where you craved his touch.

You felt his hand tremble subtly against your skin.

“Hey,” You started, pulling his attention to you, “it's just me and you” 

He nodded and kissed you hard, letting himself dive into you again, and found his fingers sliding through the wetness between your legs. He rubbed your clit in delicate circles and you bucked your hips up into his touch. He found a perfect rhythm and responded to your body’s signals as he felt them. 

“Maker…You’re so wet for me” He muttered in total awe of the effect he’d had on you. Looking down to your exposed cunt as the bottom of your dress now rested against your abdomen. Suddenly his middle finger found its way to your entrance and slid inside, pumping slowly and pushing you to the edge while his thumb kept working at your clit. 

Crosshair was propped on his side next to you, and instinctively ground his hips against your body, overcome with his desire to feel friction. He added another finger inside and fucked you as you rolled your hips into his hand. Each thrust of his curled digits grazed your most sensitive spot against your walls. A tingling sensation bundled and tightened in your lower belly, pushing you closer to your climax. 

“Don’t stop” You begged, and he listened.

“Come for me, darling” He instructed, which sent chills down your body. Hearing him say something so arousing was unfamiliar but absolutely intoxicating. 

With his lips at your neck and his fingers working eagerly inside of you, your release was so close now. Your senses were deliciously overwhelmed. 

“Crosshair” You cried his name before rolling your eyes into the back of your head, seeing stars, overwhelmed with the pleasure that flowed through your body as your orgasm overcame you. Your hips rolled up into his body still hovered above you and your back arched in response to the sensational feeling radiating through you. Your fingers dug into his arm but he never slowed his pace. Crosshair was absolutely infatuated with watching you fall apart for him. You came down from your euphoric high slowly, catching your breath in the process. 

“Are you alright?” He whispered. This was a side of him you never expected. You knew he could be caring and kind when he wanted to be, but seeing that translated to handling your body was a pleasant surprise. Your cunt hopelessly clenched around the emptiness as he removed his fingers. 

“Never better. Now, please fuck me” You demanded, chuckling softly. 

“Only because you asked so nicely,” He wasted not another moment before helping you lean up to remove your dress completely. Your breasts fell from the restraint of the fabric and caught his eye immediately. He took them into his hands massaging them gently before bringing his lips to your mounds and kissing them. 

He pulled his pants down just enough to release his length that begged to be touched. You stared in awe of his size. You opened your legs slightly, allowing room for him to adjust himself in between your legs. 

As he lined himself up with your entrance, he looked into your eyes and devoured you with a loving gaze. He kissed you softly before slowly sinking his cock into your wetness.

Crosshair choked on his next breath, your warmth encasing him perfectly as you took his length with ease. Once he bottomed out within you, he whimpered softly and buried his face into your neck. He was slow at first, allowing you to adjust to his size, which you probably needed as he was bigger than you expected. 

“Fuck, Y/N” He cursed, overwhelmed by it all. To be able to take you like this, having you begging for his cock, you writhing beneath him…it was all wonderfully too much, and he loved it. 

“Maker, it feels so good, Cross” You encouraged him. His cock stretched you open with each thrust as he picked up the pace. He fit inside you like you were made for each other, and you felt a closeness and intimacy you’d never experienced before. It was indescribable. 

You held his face in your hands as he thrust into you faster and harder, holding his gaze while you both let profanities and cries of pleasure fly from your lips. If there was anyone nearby, they would have heard you, but it was a remote area, and you could feel safe. Each curl of his hips snapping into you sent your mind and body into a frenzy of pleasure.

“You take me so well, sweetheart” He praised, turning his attention to looking down where he disappeared inside of you. Crosshair was no virgin, but he’d never experienced such intimacy and passion for someone like he did for you in this moment. He wanted this for so long, same as you. The months of lingering glances at one another, your heart racing each time your skin grazed his on the ship, the way you’d cared for him since he’d escaped Tantiss. It was all leading up to this moment of pure desire for one another, and you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

“I won’t last much longer” He 

You nodded to assure him it was okay. It was then that you felt another orgasm quickly creeping up on you. He could feel you tightening and knew you were close. 

“Come on my cock, that’s it” He spoke softly, his words sending you over the edge. 

It burst open, washing over your entire body, more captivating and intense than the first release. You dug your nails into the rigid muscles of his back, pulling him into you as he kept his pace. You cried out, feeling overtaken by the pleasure that electrified your entire body. His thrust began to falter and his body shook beneath your fingertips. 

Crosshair’s moans were low and rough as he reached his climax, spilling his release deep inside you, his brows furrowed and face twisted in pleasure. 

You both took time to catch your breath, soaking in the highs you were riding and taking in this feeling of closeness with one another. He was careful to remove himself from you, knowing you were both sensitive. 

He lay beside you, wrapping his arms around your body and pulling you into him.

“I love you too” He said suddenly, confusing you for a moment, before realizing that he was finally responding to your declaration of love to him earlier. 

You smiled up at him and laid your head onto his chest. As you listened to a combination of the gentle waves and the beating of his heart, you felt warm and loved for the first time in a long time.

[mangoshorthand]

heyy could i maybe request a oneshot where sub five gets marked up by the reader like hickeys and bite marks all over his throught and collarbone as well as his lower torso😻 and as the reader progresses he whimpers and is whiny the whole time and at the end he looks himself in the mirror and hes just so inlove with it? 😩

sorry if its a bit messy😭 have a great night/day :))

Great prompt. Hope you enjoy :). I promise the next ask prompt I answer will be non smut.

Your Desperate Man | Five Hargreeves/ GN Reader 2.8k words, Rated E

There were no two ways about it: Five was hot. 

If you were to set him beside Diego, you definitely wouldn’t notice Five first, but he would be the one you'd leave the conversation thinking about. All Diego’s leather-bound muscles may as well not exist beside Five’s acerbic tongue, quiet good looks and the firm self-assurance in his intelligent green eyes. 

So you could hardly resent it when others noticed. Why would you hate someone for sharing your good taste? Whenever you noticed him turning heads, your first instinct was one of fellow-feeling. You almost wanted to say, ‘I know, right?!’ and share a high-five. 

So, no, you didn’t get jealous easily.

…But that bitch was getting on your last nerve.

It started a few months ago. She was a friend of Sloane’s who hung around the Academy like a bad smell. Ever since she met him, she latched onto him like a tick and, as soon as she could feasibly describe him as her friend, she came to spend time with him as much as possible, looking for his insight on some problem or another. 

She was a mathematician, meaning that she could follow most of his logic when he talked about his latest projects. She could flatter him by learning from him and coming back a few days later with an improvement to her own work. 

If you were jealous of anything, you were jealous of that. 

Despite how he might look, Five was not perfect: he had an ego, and Alex knew exactly how to stroke it. And that was fine, in your opinion- so long as his ego was the only thing he let her stroke. 

She nodded along and acted impressed and asked all the right questions and subtly flattered him and laughed at his jokes and made absolutely any excuse she could to touch his arm or his knee; to hug him hello and goodbye and she did it ALL while you were right there.

Fuck her!

But you trusted Five. He could see right through her, of course, but that didn’t stop him enjoying the attention. He rebuffed her with a perfect mix of politeness and friendliness, but he’d still leave most of his conversations with her with a swagger in his walk and an ironic smile directed at you. 

‘Old dog’s still got it,’ that smile said.

You trusted that he had it under control, and he did actually like her as a person for some unknown reason, so you contented yourself with telling him your concerns. He agreed that they weren’t unfounded and reassured you that her feelings were definitely not reciprocated. 

So, when you walked past the door of his father’s study one afternoon when she was over, you weren’t intending to listen outside the door, but the snatch of conversation you heard as you passed made you stop dead.

“I had a dream about you last night.”

“Something about invariant theory, I bet.”

“No,” she said, coyly.

There was a moment of silence in which she was clearly trying to get him to enquire what it was about, but he didn’t give her the satisfaction.

“Right. So this stuff is child’s play,” he said, returning to the math as if she hadn’t spoken, “it’s pretty much Hilbert’s thirteenth, which I’m sure you’re familiar with. We’ve got to think about whether these functions can be written as a composite-”

“Don’t you want to know what happened in my dream?” she interrupted him. 

There was a moment or two of silence before he replied.

“Not particularly. Now, would you like me to go on with the math or do you have somewhere to be?”

Satisfied, you continued on your path elsewhere. 

Apparently, she did have somewhere to be, because she passed you on her way to the front door only a few minutes later. Five did not follow her to say goodbye.

Smut below cut

***

That evening, you entered the bedroom to find him preparing for sleep. Unusually for Five, he was clad in a t-shirt and sweats rather than pajamas. His towel-dried hair hung messily in his eyes. He smiled when he saw you, wrinkling his face momentarily into the lines he should by all rights have except for a certain time-travel accident. 

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you said.

You closed the door and crossed to the comfortable reading chair, raising your legs onto the arm. Five, trying to neaten his hair in the mirror, spoke casually.

“I don’t think Alex will be coming over again.”

“How come?” you asked, wanting to hear the rest of what happened.

“Hmph,” he said, disinterestedly, “she came onto me and I told her to fuck off.”

“What happened,” you said, interested.

“She came on flirty, like she does, but this time she tried to kiss me.”

He inspected a patch of dry skin on his neck.

“What?” you ask, enraged.

“Don’t worry,” he said, placatingly, “she was told precisely where to go. It was pretty pathetic, actually,” he remarked.

“I think I heard some of it,” you admit, “she was talking about having a dream about you and you made it clear you weren’t interested.”

“Yup, that was right before,” he said, darkly. 

“Bitch.” you grumbled, “I knew she’d try something.”

“Well, you were right,” Five continued, applying a layer of moisturizer to his face, “but she won’t be trying anything again.”

You watched his face in the mirror, absorbed in his pre-bedtime routine. He was a creature of habit, you discovered: a man of little quirks and rituals, particularly when it came to personal grooming. As it had been so long denied him, he reveled in the luxury of even the tiniest routines: trimming his nails weekly, shaving his face daily and looking after his hair and skin.

The more intimately you got to know him, the less cool and caustic he seemed. Underneath it all, there was just a sweet old-young man crying out to be loved and needed.

…And occasionally fucked. 

“Don’t tell me you weren’t just a little bit tempted,” you smiled, standing up and approaching him from behind.

“Of course I wasn’t,” he said, mildly offended, “I’m yours.”

He said it casually, as if he hadn’t quite thought through what he was saying. He caught your eye in the mirror as you appeared over his shoulder. He smiled slightly sheepishly at the familiar gleam in your eye.

Your arms slithered around his waist. Beneath his shirt your hands traveled over the warm muscle and flat stomach. His skin felt like silk. As the very tips of your fingers breached the elastic of his waistband, your chin came to rest on his shoulder, your lips brushing his ear as you whispered.

“What was that?”

A fine blush appeared in his cheek, like a delicate drop of watercolor. 

“I said, I’m yours.” 

Your lips played about his neck, your eyes holding his captive through the medium of the mirror. 

He looked at you, expression open and anticipatory. He swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing attractively. You ghosted your lips further down, towards the hollow between his neck and his shoulder. Mouth poised there, you spoke again, voice husky.

“Say it again.”

He shuddered with the knowledge of what was coming, and breathed:

“I’m yours.”

And you sucked a bruise onto his skin. Long, lingering and sudden. He let out a shaky breath as you did so, eyes drifting into a haze of pleasure. You pulled away and admired the mark, a port-wine stain spread on that delicate silk. His eyes were similarly engaged, looking at the new hickey in the mirror as if he’d never seen one before.

Taking the opportunity of his preoccupation, you looked at his face: the sweet, parted lips, the heavy brow and the jaw that could have been sculpted by Michelangelo. By the time his eyes returned to yours, the look within them made the slow, crawling sensation below his waistband redouble. 

“Do you want more?”

He nodded slowly, but as you moved to mark him again, he abruptly turned his head towards you so that your lips met his instead. It was as if he couldn’t resist anymore, like a man dying of thirst finding a clear mountain stream. Leaning backwards into you, he sighed into your mouth and let your tongue roam. 

He was so sweet in this mood; uncharacteristically compliant. Every time it came upon him, you never failed to be enchanted by him. Everyone always looked to him for direction and authority and this was one way he could take a break from all the responsibility. You were more than happy to give him that, especially when it left him looking all undone and pretty like this.

When you broke away from him, your hands were playing beneath his shirt, fingers stroking up and down the soft line of hair disappearing into his sweats. He closed his eyes as you again pinged the elastic on his pants, but they shot open again as your teeth nipped at the flesh of his neck.

He whined as you bit and sucked, the mild pain only adding spice to the pleasure: the prickle of fired up nerve-endings and needful ache in the lowest part of his stomach. As you dug your teeth in fraction more, you compensated by cupping his crotch through his sweatpants and holding him where he was hard.

When you let the skin go and turned back to the mirror, his eyes didn’t even meet yours: he only had eyes for the deep red mark you’d made and the white, crescent-shaped teeth marks disappearing before his eyes. 

“You like that, baby,” you murmured, comforting his aching package with firm, circular rubbing motions. 

“Yes,” he said, voice slightly higher than usual.

“Do you want more? Wanna be covered in them?”

He nodded enthusiastically, like a shy child offered his favorite candy.

“Arms over your head then.”

He complied, letting you peel off his t-shirt and discard it over your shoulder. You hummed appreciatively at the range of flesh now on display: at the pale, unspoiled skin you were about to pepper with burst capillaries. You weren’t a violent person, but you couldn’t deny the little squirm of sadistic glee at the idea of him covered with your marks.

The hand not engaged with his groin flitted up his stomach to stimulate the close bud of one nipple, making him buck automatically into your hand. The small noise he made went straight to the center of your own arousal; he was just so fucking aborable like this, all needy and pathetic. 

So you sucked at him again, hungrily, leaning over to mark his collarbone. This time, you couldn’t resist giving him more than a nip with your teeth, biting him enough to abruptly stop his little whimpers and cause him to suck in air over his teeth. Despite this, he still watched, transfixed, as you worked at him with his arousal aching in your hand.

You eased up, letting his skin go and kissing the deeper teeth marks, as if you might undo the pain with each kiss.

“Too much?” you asked.

“A little,” he whispered, eyes nevertheless devouring the sight of his third mark. 

You gave a little pout in sympathy with his plight and kissed his cheek.

“Shall I go easy on you?”

“For a little while.” he replied, that sheepish, coy smile on his lips. You knew what it meant: wind me up tighter first.

You were more than happy to oblige. 

He moved as if towards the bed as you stepped back from him, but your hands on his shoulders kept him in place.

“You stay there.” you said, “I want you to be able to see yourself.”

“Okay,” he whispered, facing the mirror again as you came to stand in front of him. 

His whines were music to your ears as you attacked your next target, sucking complementary bruises onto each pectoral. Then, bending to allow him to admire the new hickies, you moved further south. You grazed and suckled again and again at his subtly toned abdominals, his flank, and at the softer flesh of his stomach. As you did so, your hands explored the body they had explored so well, yet could never tire of exploring. You rubbed at his chest, hips, ass and thighs.

Each time you withdrew, he surveyed himself hazily, reveling with slavish pleasure in the cumulative effect of your claim on him: your flags planted on his body. The thought ratcheted his arousal to a higher pitch, and he felt his knees tremble as his heartbeat became evident in his groin. 

When you sucked at the v-shaped furrow running invitingly towards his pubis, his whimpers redoubled. One of his hands came to your hair, fingers massaging your scalp. His hips pulled forward, as if your face attracted them like a magnet. Wordlessly, he begged with more pathetic little sounds.

You ignored his little ‘suggestion’ and rose to your feet from the spot you’d been kneeling. 

Thwarted, Five let out a frustrated, high moan. His left hand immediately disappeared beneath his waistband, attending to his own need in a move of desperation. It made you smirk to see it, so you allowed him a few moments to pleasure himself while you admired his face:

His hair, starting to dry, was beginning to stick up at odd angles while the rest clung to his brow. His forehead was held a tight pinch with the intensity of his arousal and his lips were curled around gritted teeth, bringing the slight hook in his nose into greater prominence. Still in front of the mirror, his eyes were closed, his head tilted back. Muscles jumped in the neck beneath his thrust-forward chin.

As gladly as you could have watched him beating himself off beneath those sweatpants, it would have to be something to file away for another day. Today was about reminding him (as if he needed reminding), who he belonged to.

So, with this in mind, you licked one of his nipples with a deliberate, preparatory tongue.

“Oh,” he said, speaking half in exhale, “f-feels good.”

You sucked the nipple hard into your mouth, continuing to swipe your tongue over the hard bead between your lips. He panted, and then jerked as you closed your teeth around him.

“Oh shit!”

Experimentally, you tightened your bite around him and the speed of his strokes increased. Clearly, this was doing something quite profound to him. He let out a squeak that made your own nipples harden.

All of time could be at the mercy of Five Hargreeves, if he so chose, yet you could make him mewl like a newborn kitten.

“Yeah,” he breathed, “bite me. Fucking bite me.”

He whined again as your tongue continued to stimulate him, as you sucked his areola into your mouth and clamped your teeth down, marking him again. 

“Ah shit! Harder!”

But you didn’t want to hurt him, so you released his swollen nipple and took his wrist, stopping him touching himself. He huffed needily, but didn’t resist.

You came to stand behind him again, pulling his wrists gently behind his back and tugging on them so that his body was completely on display in the mirror. You kissed from his shoulder to his cheek, trying not to smile at his obvious discomfort; at the stretched fabric of the sweatpants around his perfectly-imprinted cock, sticking firmly out from his body.

“What do you see, Five?” you whispered, once more into his ear.

“Please,” he whimpered, shifting slightly. 

“What do you see in the mirror?” you repeated, more firmly.

He considered in a feverish sort of way.

“A desperate man,” he said, trying to nuzzle beseechingly into you, but unable to turn his head with his arms held that way.

“Whose desperate man?”

“Yours,” he said tripping over himself to satisfy you, “I’m yours, okay?”

“Look at yourself,” you pushed.

He did, lust-clouded eyes eating up the sight.

Marks. All over him. Fuck. 

Seeing himself this way made him shiver. He reveled in the feeling of safe powerlessness, here at your mercy. He was definitely yours. Yours to do with as you pleased: your bruises and bite marks all over him were proof. He knew at least one that would be visible above his shirt collar tomorrow, and the idea filled him with a whorish sense of satisfaction. His cock ached harder at the idea that everyone would know he was yours. Your man.

Your devotee.

Your toy. 

And he would submit willingly to whatever you chose to do next.

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Tag list: (please comment to be added or removed): @thebearmage

NOTE: Dom!Five was my first love but Sub!Five is growing on me. Maybe I just like Switch!Five.

I take Five requests, I'm fairly versatile in what I write (fluff, smut, angst, psychological character study- I'll try it all) but I will consider them on a case by case basis. See masterlist for request status and more.