#//i've been struggling with him for so long

[ghoulphile]

janey's dad | c.h./the ghoul | part 01

➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 3.7k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; age gap, hair pulling, teasing, making out, mutual pining, lipstick kink, stockings, frottage, porn w/ feelings, porn w/ plot, mild angst w/ happy ending, divorced!coop, babysitter!reader, pre-war/bomb ➥ summary | “We really, uh, shouldn’t - oh fuck, you look --” ➥ notes | i'm so sorry this is later than it should be. i am unfortunately a corporate slave and this fic just did not want to cooperate 🫠 there are a lot more things planned and this fic is turning into a bit of a beast (20+ pages and counting rip lmao) so i've decided to split it into two parts to make it more manageable for myself mostly un-beta'd atm a special thanks to @corinthianism for all her lovely help ❤️!!

feel free to send in thots, questions, requests! | masterlist

Divorce is hard, but being a divorcé is downright hellish.

One of the ugliest things in the world, if Cooper Howard has any say. At least when he was a Marine, they told him where to point his gun, where to aim; nameless threats vanishing with a quick squeeze of the trigger.

Here, these ‘enemies’ aren’t enemies — not really.

It’d be easier if they were.

Worse still, they have names he holds as dearly as his own. There’s Barb, whip smart and always so clever. Then Janey, the light of his life and so sweet his teeth ache.

Once upon a time, life was sweeter than apple pie on Sundays.

Then came the separation.

Afterwards, he finds it hard to look at what’s left of his family without losing breath like a horse kick to the chest. Their absence rips open a hole inside him ten miles wide, its edges jagged and wrong.

And when he can’t take the silence anymore, fingers of malt liquor help dull the ache, though it’ll never be enough to mend what’s broken.

See, war’s something he understands.

But these domestic battlefields where he sits across from his ex-wife while lawyers barter this weekend and that holiday?

How he struggles to meet his daughter’s eye every time she asks if he’s coming home?

When Barb keeps the house and the money while he keeps the scrapbooks and the dog?

He doesn’t — can't — refuses to comprehend.

Because in what world can you reconcile looking down the barrel of a smoking gun only to find the woman you love staring back, finger on the trigger? Left out to hang as Vault-Tec orchestrates his downfall.

The true depth of their involvement is unknown, but it’s no coincidence his bank accounts dried up faster than the Mojave in June. The ink still wet when the media snapped up the story of his failed marriage.

Thus, his reputation (rather what’s left of it) unraveled faster than a spool of thread.

Knocked on his ass and kept there by a boot heel crushing his windpipe. Whose? He hasn’t got a fucking clue.

But whoever they are, they’re making sure he stays a washed up nobody who struggles to land a call back, much less pay his monthly alimony on time.

See what we can do? You were America’s favorite gunslinger - now look at you. Mind your place.

Hell, millions used to scream his name.

Nowadays people whisper it behind their hands like a dirty secret, “Oh, did you hear? Cooper Howard…” as they dissect pieces of his life into bite-sized Before’s and After’s. “Hah! Serves him right. Y’know, I never liked him much.”

While he grits his teeth and swallows his bitterness with a smile, he hates how he can’t protect Janey from snide reporters and nosy strangers. Juggling actor-father-divorcé with fumbling hands.

It’s only been six months; a heartbeat, a lifetime, and already he’s scraped thin like butter over too much bread.

Something’s gotta give.

After all, he’s only one man.

But just when it's bleakest, the clouds part.

A young woman moves in next door, the first bright thing that’s come his way in a long, long while.

At first, he kept his distance.

Exchanged vague hello’s and how-are-you’s. Then Janey took a shine; always so friendly and eager to talk about her latest books.

Any reservations he might’ve had died when he saw how enamored you are with her.

Only made sense that over time small pleasantries turned into playdates. Then those playdates turned into sleepovers.

Before long, you’re watching her when a gig runs late.

Rustling up grub and tucking her into bed more often than not these days. And when he slinks in through the door, knees aching and stripped to the bone, there you are with a shy smile and a warm meal.

So what if he takes himself in hand after you leave, stroking his cock to the thought of you down on your knees in that pretty little sundress?

Imagines the wide stretch of your ruby lips as you swallow him down, lipstick smeared an awful mess?

Cums hard to the fantasy of your teary eyes and hiccupy breaths as you choke?

What you don’t know can’t hurt you.

After all, he’s a gentleman... he promises to keep his hands to himself.

“All right, Sugar Bomb, it’s bedtime.”

Bundled in navy bedding up to her nose, Janey’s wide brown eyes peer up at you from beneath a riot of frizzy curls. Roosevelt, her ever faithful companion, plasters himself to her side. The tip of his tail swishes once, twice before falling limp.

“Ah, c’mon guys. Don’t look at me like that.” You sigh with a fond shake of the head, hip popping out to rest against the doorframe. “I don’t make the rules, I just follow ‘em.”

A muffled response sounds from the lump of little girl, “Nmfhm.”

Squinting, you dip your head and tap the side of your ear, "Pardon?"

“Mnhfmmmm.”

“Ye—eah… Didn’t catch that, Mumbler.”

Janey tugs down the blanket, her mouth pursed in a moue of displeasure. “I said,” she crosses her arms with a huff, “not until Dad gets home.”

Shit.

“M’sorry, baby. He’s still gonna be a while.” Walking across the room, you stop beside the bed and motion your hand back and forth. “Scooch over.”

Gangly limbs fumble as Janey wiggles into the middle of the mattress, her feet tangling in the blankets. Roosevelt takes a toe to the nose during the transition, but flops across her knees all the same.

Together they settle with a bounce of springs.

In the open space, you slide in.

The bed sinks under your weight, a plume of rich cologne tickling your nose; mint-spiced citrus. Cooper. Your stomach swoops, and your heart trips.

“I didn’t see him at breakfast — or lunch!” A pout tugs at her mouth. “Not even dinner. I gotta go home tomorrow. So when am I gonna see him?”

“Oh, bug.” You sigh, propping yourself up on your elbow. “Your dad’s been real busy at work. And I know that’s been hard for you, but I promise to make sure he’s here for breakfast tomorrow.”

“D’you mean it?” Her cold nose digs into your skin. “Me and Roosevelt miss him so much.”

Cuddled into your chest, Janey tosses an arm around your back. Her fuzzy head rests in the crook of your arm, springy curls tickling your skin.

You squeeze her tight and trace your fingertips over her forehead.

“I can do you one better,” you say, bopping the tip of her nose just to hear her giggle - a soft sound that sits warm and gooey in your chest. “I pinkie-promise.”

Her finger loops around yours, so small and fragile.

“I’ll even make pancakes. How’s that sound for a promise?”

“Oh, yes, please! I think Dad will like that,” a wide yawn cuts her off mid-sentence. “He’s sad, but he always smiles when you make food.”

Janey’s words — unexpected as they are sudden — cut so deep it steals the breath from your lungs. You flounder, your heart a throbbing bruise in your chest.

“... Then pancakes it is.”

As if nothing happened at all, she asks, “Do I have to go to bed now?”

“Afraid so, little miss.” Your responding chuckle sounds stilted even to your own ears. “Just you wait. When you wake up, Dad’ll be home.”

“Fi—ine, but I want extra pancakes.” Janey pauses, considers you with narrow eyes, then adds, “With syrup!”

“Whatever you want,” you say with an indulgent smile. “Now... time to sleep. It’s really past your bedtime.”

She gives you one last squeeze then lets you tuck her in nice and tight, blankets pulled up to her chin. You drop a kiss on her forehead while Roosevelt re-settles on the pillow beside her after a quick scratch behind the ears. 

Everything in order, you turn to go only for a little hand to stop you.

“Yes?” you reply, glancing at her from over your shoulder.

“... can you put on one of Dad's movies?”

The tremble in her voice - like she’s about to get scolded - breaks your heart clean down the middle. Stitching on a soft smile, you nod and walk to the darkened TV set in the room's corner.

After fiddling with the nobs, static flashes to life.

“The Man from Deadhorse okay?”

The holotape sliding into the track swallows the sound of her tiny “Yeah.” Starting up with a whirl of machinery, the second-hand Radiation King flickers to life in black-and-white.

A vast plain and bright sky stretches across the screen.

Then Sugarfoot creeps into frame with the one and only Cooper Howard sitting astride the noble steed. The sheriff’s badge on his chest glints in the sun.

“Thank you,” she mumbles, already half-way to sleep.

“Anything for you, baby. Sleep tight.”

Flicking off the lights, you leave the door cracked. Walk away pretending like hearing her whisper goodnight to the TV doesn’t lance through you like lightning.

The desire to whisk her into your arms and soothe all of her ails is almost impossible to ignore.

Somehow, you distract yourself by wiping up the table, then by fixing a plate of dinner for whenever Cooper rolls in. Though all the while, how brokenhearted Janey sounded sits in the back of your mind like a leaden weight.

When Cooper stumbles into the living room, it’s half past midnight.

You’d gotten up to greet him, curled as you were in an armchair reading, when something about the stern line of his mouth gave you pause.

Where the usual lighthearted greetings lingered, a pensive stillness trembled to life.

Tension crackles through the air; a held breath of agitation. By the faraway gaze and defeated slump of his broad shoulders, it’s plain to see the night didn’t go as intended. And no matter how much you long to soothe, you can’t.

After all, he’s not yours to touch.

Instead, you offer a sympathetic smile and ask, “Rough night, huh?”

Cooper ignores the prompt, squeezing past with a brief touch to your elbow as he makes a beeline for the dry bar. The heat of his body is there and gone in a flash, his cologne teasing your senses. He says, “Thought you’d be asleep by now.”

Your heart flutters in your throat. “Ah,” you lick your lips, “well, I was going to finish my chapter first.”

Humming, he turns his back to you and fiddles with high balls and decanters. The tink of crystal glassware fills the air as he speculates which alcohol goes best with his mood. 

“Thanks again for watching Janey.” He nods in approval and fixes his whiskey neat. “I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble, Mr. Howard.” You shrug. “She’s a sweetheart.”

He shoots you a dry look from over his shoulder, stirring the dark amber of his drink with a forefinger. When he sucks his skin clean with a soft pop - a flash of a pink tongue taunting, teasing - your stomach swoops.

God, I wonder what else his mouth can do.

Flustered, you clear your throat and stare at a spot on the wall.

“How many times do I gotta tell you to call me Coop?” he says, digging through some drawers until he finds what he’s searching for: a lighter. “It must be a million and one by now.”

Flint sparks as flames jump, eating away at the end of a cigarette. Cooper inhales in short little puffs, pulling on the filter. His cheeks hollow, the shadows enhancing the cut of his jaw before the tip catches alight.

“Well,” he exhales, his gaze catching yours through a plume of smoke as he turns, brow raised. “Anything to say for yourself?”

“Old habits die hard, I guess,” you chuckle.

The corner of his mouth lifts in a lopsided smirk. “I’ll drink to that.” He knocks back the last finger of whiskey before refilling with gin.

Springs groan in protest when he drops to the couch, settling in with an outstretched arm and wide spread thighs.

“It’s been a long fucking day,” he rasps.

Gulping, you try to ignore the space at his feet.

The stirrings of desire provoked by the urge to sink to your knees and fill it with your body, to ease tension from those shoulders with your hands, your mouth, your cunt — if he’d let you.

“You heading home?” Nursing the fresh drink, he swallows a mouthful, only to hiss low through his teeth at the chemical burn. His throat bobs, framed by the open collar of his shirt. “Whew! Goddamn, that’s strong.”

“No, I can stay for a while.” A bird on a wire, you perch on the cushion beside him. “Got nothing else planned for tonight, anyhow.”

Cooper snorts. “I doubt that very much. A sweet young thing like you,” he motions towards you with his glass, “I’m sure you’ve got plenty of fellas calling, especially on a Friday night. Don’t waste your time with me.”

“That’s not why I--” you stop yourself short.

Save for the bustling LA avenue right outside the complex, the apartment itself is stone silent for several heartbeats. Words hover on the back of your tongue, catching in the bend of your throat molasses thick.

Meanwhile, Cooper continues to swirl the alcohol in his glass.

Maybe in a different life, you wouldn’t hesitate to express yourself.

But here — with him — you shouldn’t.

Christ sake, he’s a grieving divorcé, you chastise yourself. The last thing he needs is me trying to lay one on him.

When you speak, his name glides off your lips for the first time, clementine sweet, “... Cooper, I’m not wasting my time. I enjoy spending it with Janey - and you.”

“Well,” he husks, hooded eyes dragging down your visage in a slow once-over, “you’re the first one in a long while to feel that way, sweetheart.”

Dripping like honey whiskey from Cooper’s lips, the simple phrase burns its way down-down-down until it blooms like liquid fire in your belly. Warms you all the way to your toes as your heart pounds against your ribcage.

“I mean it.” Your knuckles twist in the pleats of your sundress, bolts of blue fabric bunched around your knees. “Everything I do is because I want to.”

The flash of red nails plucking at the sheer nylon of your stockings snaps up his attention, his gaze snagging - staying as he chases the curve of your exposed leg, hungry.

He wets his lips, and tenses his jaw when he spots how the soft fat of your thigh dimples in because of your garter. “That’s awful sweet of you to say.”

You tremble beneath the intensity of his attention.

Greedy.

Little kisses of awareness spark bright along the path his eyes carve like the caress of shy fingertips.

However, before you’re able to confront him about his interest, the heat leaches from his expression, grows mute and cold like a muzzled dog. 

Readjusting the waistband of his slacks with a tug, he says, “I know you got better things to do than keep an old man company.”

Irritation sparks. “Cooper--”

“If this is about paying you for tonight,” his lips quirk into a sheepish smile, “I won’t be able to yet.” He scrubs a hand through the stubble peppered along his jaw. “The gig tonight didn’t… Well, it doesn’t matter.”

“No, that’s not what I --”

He plows on, “Anyway, the one I’ve got tomorrow should be enough. How about I stop by around seven o’clock? I’ll treat you to dinner as an apology.”

Frustration bubbles beneath the surface of your skin, antagonism thrumming through your veins. Your hands shake almost as much as your voice. “Cooper!”

“I… uh, yes?” He blinks.

Your brows furrow. “You don’t get it,” you say. “I mean, you truly don’t know?”

“I’m afraid there’s a lot I don’t get. You’re gonna have to be more particular.”

Maybe not said in so many words (or at all) but actions speak far louder.

Otherwise, why else would you spend most of your time in his apartment, fill every spare moment with Janey, and reserve evenings for his company?

Hell, you even cook and clean!

Almost scream your interest from the rooftops, and it’s obvious to everyone but him, it seems.

Here you are thinking he was preserving your dignity whenever he ignored a passing comment or lingering touch when, in fact, he’d been oblivious to their existence to begin with.

How a man can be so obtuse when you’re throwing yourself at him is beyond you.

If he wasn’t so captivating…

“Are you kidding me,” you ask, mindful of your tone, “how could you not know?” You throw your hands in the air. “I’ve been — for months!”

“Well, I don’t have a goddamn clue what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he snarks, setting his glass on the table. “Care to enlighten me?”

Fine. If that’s how he wants to play, let’s play.

When he moves to take another drag from his cigarette, you strike, fingers locking around his wrist mid-lift. And although his glassy eyes narrow, he keeps his hand still.

Waiting to see what you'll do.

Tucking your knee under you for balance, you bend forward and watch his face from beneath your lashes. When your lips wrap around the filter, a dark hunger bleeds into his expression, his pulse a steady thud against the pad of your thumb.

Inhaling, the cherry lights up, a flashbang in the dim overhead light.

Cooper’s breath hitches, and then you’re pulling away with a lungful of smoke; the taste of ash heavy on your tongue.

He tracks your movements with greed, gaze flicking for the briefest of moments past your chin before refocusing on the ring of red lipstick staining white paper.

“If you wanted one,” he chokes, gripping the back of the couch with white knuckles, “all you had to do was ask.”

With a coquettish grin, you exhale to the side and stare at him with hooded eyes. “Is that so?” Plucking the cigarette out of his limp hold, you stub it out in the ashtray. “What if I wanted to ask for something else, Mr. Howard?”

The next moment finds you deposited in his lap, his hands shooting out to grab at your waist only to freeze before they make contact.

“Woah! I--”

“Tell me something.”

Your lips caress the shell of his ear, sharing breath - sharing space as you plaster yourself to his front, arms looped over his shoulders. He jolts, body trembling with restraint.

“Would you give me what I wanted if I said please?”

The distance between you snaps taut with anticipation. “C-Coop,” he stutters. “Call me Coop.”

You hum. “Well, Coop, would you?”

“That depends almost entirely on what you’re asking for, sweetheart.”

Red nails skate along the back of his neck, play in the downy soft hair of his nape just to feel him shiver. And then you’re leaning back with your hands braced on his knees, your legs falling open in invitation.

The hem of your dress bunches around your waist, exposing the soft cotton of your underwear, and the darkened patch of slick soaking through.

“I think you know exactly what I want,” you purr. “Because you want it too. Don’t you?”

He bites down on a strangled moan when your hips arch forward, rocking the soft plush of your ass against the heavy weight of his thickening cock. The zipper digs into your skin as he tents the front of his slacks.

Mouth dropping open, his tongue flicks out to wet his lips - a slick circle of temptation that makes you clench. “I, uh, I don’t…”

Reaching between your splayed thighs, you hook a finger beneath your panties and pull the fabric aside. He jerks forward, exhaling hard at the flash of your soaked cunt and twitching clit.

“C’mon, be honest.”

With a sigh, you gather your arousal on the tips of your fingers.

Cooper’s gaze is a heavy weight pinning you in place as you pretend it’s him dragging his knuckles over the top of your mond. Him dragging calloused fingers up along sticky folds to play with your sensitive clit, ripping soft little mewls from your lips.

“Can’t you see what you do to me, Coop?” you say, pulling your hand away to show the webs of slick stretching between your fingers. “I’m so wet. Please, I’ve wanted you for so long…”

His hips rock against your ass in an aborted thrust. “Shit - shit!” Eyes slamming shut, he grits his teeth and digs his fingers into your sides hard enough to bruise. “We really, uh, shouldn’t - oh fuck, you look --”

“Why not?” Your hand brushes over his groin. “I can feel how hard you are.”

“It isn’t right, that’s why.” He stutters, stumbles over his words, “Besides, Janey…”

“I can be quiet,” you say, lips trembling. “I promise.”

“Goddamnit, you can’t say things like that and expect me not to --” Cutting himself off, strong fingers seize your chin and tilt until you’re met with Cooper’s severe expression, his scorching gaze. “You need to tell me now: are you sure this is what you want?”

There’s no hesitation, “Yes.”

In what world would you refuse?

The words barely pass your lips before Cooper’s bowing his dark head, mouth ravenous as it captures yours in a slick glide of bruising lips and hungry tongues.

He steals your breath, licks into your mouth and traces along the sensitive inside of your lip.

Pulse jump starting, your toes curl over the edge of the cushion and your thighs squeeze the barrel of his chest, kneecaps digging into his ribs.

“Oh,” a moan punches itself out of your throat - a breathy little thing swallowed up by his lips. “That’s--”

Anticipation swells, simmers between you like a band before it snaps. A strong forearm locks around your waist, tugging you into the cradle of his chest until you’re plastered from stem to stern.

Too hungry for tenderness as his free hand slips up to cup the back of your head, fingers catching in the briar of your hair and tugging at the roots.

You claw at his shoulders while sparks of pain ricochet down your neck, sufficing into a prickly flush that heats your blood. “Hnn, Cooper,” you gasp.

He murmurs your name through languid flicks of his tongue and sharp little nips of skin that leave your mouth tender and swollen. When he pulls away to survey his handiwork, his eyes are dark. Fathomless.

"I never thought I'd get the chance to kiss you like this," he says, wicking his thumb over the pillow of your bottom lip. "You taste as good as I imagined."

Dragging your nails across his scalp, you plead, “No more teasing - I can't take it.”

"Well," he grunts, fingers twisting up in your dress, “If that’s how you feel, then you better put those hips to good use and work for it, sweetheart."

part 2 dropping soon

#cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x you #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard smut #cooper howard #the ghoul #the ghoul smut

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

Hiii love your writingggg, could you plsss do very innocent!reader and pervy!ethan 🫶🏻

Hiii! I hope you like it, even though you requested this MONTHS ago.

I'm not innocent, so I'm not the best at writing it🙃 Hopefully this is okay:)

Creep - Pervy!Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: You ask Ethan for help in econ, and once Mindy mentions the empty bedroom in the apartment she shares with Ethan and Chad, you agree to move in. But you realize that your sweet, dorky new roommate has been stealing your panties.

Contains: Pervy kinda creepy Ethan, innocent inexperienced reader, fingering. m!masturbation.

A/N: Okay...this needs a part 2 but I'm already at 5k words lmao. A lot of fics I've read along these lines had had Ethan more subby, but not in this one. 👀

*For the poll I posted earlier today, this one had the most votes at the time of me posting this fic. I'm going to write them all in the order that they're wanted:)*

It seemed like your life was starting to fall apart. You couldn’t stand your roommate, your boyfriend had broken up with you, and your grade for econ was starting to tank. When you brought up your grade to your professor after class, hoping to figure out some way to raise it, she suggested that you talk to Ethan Landry.

The next time you had class, you beelined towards him once he walked in. He noticed you, getting a little nervous the closer you got. He wasn’t the best at talking to girls, he even thought this could’ve been a figment of his imagination that the girl he struggled to take his eyes off was walking to him. He was chewing the inside of his cheek, his eyes not leaving you until you were finally face to face.

“Ethan, right?” you sweetly said, as he nodded. “I hear you’re the best for tutoring, and I desperately need your help if you have the time.”

“I’ll make the time,” he spat out, before he internally screamed at himself for sounding so desperate to help. “I mean, I can help you.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” you said, as you pulled out your phone. “What’s your number?”

“Oh, um…” he trailed off, racking his brain for those ten digits that he suddenly forgot. “I’m sorry, it’s been a long day.”

“It’s okay,” you smiled, “Are you okay with me just giving you my number and you can text me so we can set something up?”

“Yeah,” he said, as he pulled out his phone and went to create a new contact. He passed you his phone as you typed in your name and number, before you handed it back to him.

“Don’t forget to text me,” you said, a sweet smile playing on your lips as you turned to walk back to your seat.

“I won’t,” he said, tightly gripping his phone in his hand as you turned to smile at him once more.

He was struggling to focus as he sat through that class. His fingers kept rubbing over the phone screen that your thumbs had moved across, and he started to realize how pathetic he was for already being so addicted to you when you’d only spoken to him once.

Later that week, you were supposed to meet Ethan in the library to study. You both completely forgot about the renovations they were doing, the normally quiet space filled with the loud sounds of the various pieces of machinery on the opposite side of the room.

“Maybe we should try to do this some other time,” you yelled over the noise. “I can’t concentrate on anything you’re saying.”

“Oh, okay,” Ethan said, looking down so you wouldn’t see the sad look on his face. That’s when he started to get an idea. “My apartment is only two blocks away. It should be quieter. You want to come over to study?”

You liked to be cautious, and you normally wouldn’t go to someone’s apartment that you barely knew, but Ethan seemed innocent enough, and you desperately needed to pass the class so you wouldn’t have to take it again.

“Sure,” you said, wincing as the noise in the room got louder.

You walked beside Ethan as you went to his apartment, and even though it was just for studying, he felt a glint of pride as he walked with you. He hoped that anyone who saw you together would think you were his.

“Hopefully my roommates won’t be too loud,” Ethan sighed, as he stuck his key in the front door.

“Nothing is worse than what’s going on in the library right now,” you said, as he shrugged.

“You say that now…”

You barely made it inside when you heard arguing. Ethan sighed in defeat before he turned to you, “I moved in with my friends, and they’re constantly arguing.”

“Oh,” you giggled, as you followed him into the living room of the apartment. “Oh, hey Mindy,” you said, as she turned to you and smiled.

“Hey! What are you doing here?” she asked, as she walked over to you. Chad just stood there, still worked up from the spat they were having when you walked in.

“Ethan’s trying to help me not fail econ,” you said, as she nodded.

“I remember you mentioning you were having trouble with it.”

Ethan was confused as he stood there, because Mindy had never mentioned you, but she seemed to know you quite well. The two of you talked for a few minutes, and once Ethan heard another guy’s name get mentioned, he immediately got jealous.

“I’m proud of you for not giving him another chance,” Mindy said, as you let out a small laugh.

“I’m not going to say I didn’t think about it, but I don’t need him making my life any harder than it needs to be right now,” you sighed, “On top of the bullshit with him, my roommate is just so awful. Like, she woke me up blasting music before the sun even came up today. I’m trying to find somewhere else to live, but I haven’t had any luck yet.”

“Well, we’re looking for a fourth roommate…” Mindy trailed off, as Ethan’s eyes grew wide. “It’d be nice to have another girl here.”

“Don’t tempt me,” you joked, as Mindy smiled.

“Seriously, think about it,” she said, before she started to yell. “Chad!”

You noticed that the other boy was no longer in the room, but you saw him again as he turned the corner and groaned. “What?”

“Okay, don’t be rude,” she snapped, “I’m trying to convince her to move into the fourth bedroom.”

“Oh,” Chad said, his annoyed face turning up in a smile. “Hey, I’m Chad.”

“Hey,” you said, before he started to go over rent and other things you’d need to know. “Why would I want to move in when you two argue like this?” you joked, as Chad tried to play it off.

“We shared a womb, we lived in the same house until we moved into our dorms, and I finally got a break from her,” he said, as she scoffed, “But now we have to live together again and we’re trying to figure out how to do that.”

“I’ve never lived with boys before…and I’m sure my parents would kill me if they ever found out, but I’ll definitely think about it,” you said, before you turned to Ethan. “I’m sorry, you want to study now?”

“Yeah, let’s go to my room,” he said, as he led you there.

You both got settled on his bed. He sat across from you, his back against the headboard as you adjusted to get more comfortable, laying on your stomach. He bit his lip once he noticed the perfect view he had down your shirt, the neckline barely covering anything as your chest was pressed against his bed.

“So, where should we start?” you asked, your soft voice barely getting his attention as he kept staring at your chest. He wanted to squeeze your boobs, suck on them, fuck them, even. “Ethan?” you questioned as you looked away from your notebook, and opened your laptop, completely blocking the sight he was fantasizing over.

“Oh, uh…” he said, as he opened his laptop. “Maybe let’s work on the quiz that’s due this weekend. It’ll show me what you do and don’t need help with.”

You spent over an hour studying with Ethan, and you felt like you were having a little bit of a better understanding. You were starting to get hungry, so you closed your laptop. Ethan glanced over his screen the second he noticed, getting another peak down your shirt again. This time, he saw a part of one of your nipples peaking out of your bra, the sight making his pants grow tighter. He fought off the sound that was threatening to come out before you sat up, once again taking his perfect view away from him.

“I’m starving,” you said, as you started to put your stuff away. “But thank you so much for your help, and I hope you’ll want to keep helping me. You’re my only hope.”

He softly chuckled at your words, “If you move in, we can study whenever you want.”

“You’d be cool with it?” you asked, smiling at him. “You didn’t really say anything out there and I didn’t want to actually start considering it until you said something.”

“Yeah, I think it’s cool,” he said, “If you do want to, and you need help moving or anything, let me know.”

“Thanks, Ethan,” you said, smiling again before you made your way out of his room.

He wanted to walk you to the door, but he knew the second he stood up, his hard cock would be so obvious. He ran his hand over the spot you were laying on the bed, your warmth still soaked up by his comforter. The view down your shirt was burned in his brain as he got up and walked over to the door, shutting and locking it before he dropped his pants to give his aching cock the attention it desperately needed.

The next time you had econ, you walked in and sat down beside Ethan. He didn’t notice at first, but he soon smelled the familiar scent that he couldn’t get out of his head after you’d left his apartment a few days before. He wasn’t sure if it was your hair or the perfume you were wearing, but it smelled delicious.

“Hey,” he smiled, his pupils growing large as he saw you. “Are you okay?”

He took in the stress on your face, and how tired you looked.

“Yeah, are you sure you’re cool with me moving in?” you asked, “Because I can’t deal with my roommate anymore.”

“Yeah, of course,” he said, “What happened?”

“She invites her boyfriend to stay over whenever she doesn’t have class the next morning,” you sighed, “I don’t want to explain all the sounds I had to listen to while I tried to sleep last night.”

“Oh,” he said softly, “Well, your room would be beside mine, and I wouldn’t keep you up all night.”

“I bet that’s why I’m failing this class right now. I never sleep,” you said, as you looked over to him. “Wait, you don’t have a girlfriend that stays over?”

“No,” he said, his cheeks turning pink at your question.

“Sex is overrated,” you shrugged, “But I really thought you would’ve had a girlfriend.”

“Really?” he asked, as your professor walked in.

“Yeah, you’re a cutie,” you smiled, before you directed your attention to the lecture.

Ethan was thankful that you were so focused and didn’t see the cheesy smile on his face. The girl he’d been thinking about as he jerked his cock for the last few days called him cute, and his heart was swelling.

After a couple weeks, Ethan, Chad, and Mindy showed up to the apartment you currently lived in while your roommate was at her boyfriend’s to help you move.

“First, I want you guys to know that none of this mess is mine,” you said, as soon as you answered the front door for them.

“Whoa,” Chad said as he glanced around. “There’s no way you live with a girl.”

“Yeah, you’ll never guess what I found on the kitchen floor this morning,” you said, as Mindy started to think.

“With the mess, I’m going to guess…dead mouse?”

“Not even close,” you said, as you shook your head and shuddered as you thought about it. “It was a condom.”

“Like…in the wrapper or…?” Chad asked, as you, once again, shook your head.

“Used.”

“Ewwww,” Mindy said, cringing at the thought.  “Okay, is anything in the kitchen yours?”

“I already boxed that stuff up. Except the dishes that she’s refused to wash,” you said, as you led them to the living room. “The TV is mine, and that lamp,” you said, as you pointed, “But other than that, I really just have to worry about my room.”

“I think it’d be best to have all the heavy stuff in the living room so Ethan and I can worry about that,” Chad said, as you nodded and led them down the hall.

You had already packed up most of your room, which made it so easy for your new roommates to help you. Once Chad was carrying your mattress out and Mindy had ran out to get coffee, Ethan started to glance around your room. He noticed the hamper full of clothes in the corner, and he found himself inching closer towards it as he listened to you and Chad talk in the living room. Before he could stop himself, he grabbed a shirt off the top of the pile, inhaling its scent. He let out a deep breath before he went to put the shirt back in the hamper, before he noticed some black lace sticking out under a pair of your jeans. He snatched it out of the basket and put it in his pocket before he put the shirt back in it once he heard footsteps coming back down the hall.

“Did you need help with this?” Ethan asked, pointing to the basket, trying to make it not seem like he was being weird.

“Shit, I forgot to do laundry,” you groaned, as the realization hit him that the panties he’d grabbed had been worn. “I’ll carry that out.”

“Okay,” Ethan said, before Chad motioned for him to help with the dresser.

Later that day after you got your stuff moved into your new room, you flopped on your freshly made bed as Mindy popped in.

“So, I’m going to try to convince the guys to share a bathroom so you don’t have to share with Ethan,” she said, as you shrugged.

“It’s not a big deal,” you said, “I just hope he doesn’t mind all the girly stuff in the shower and the makeup and stuff.”

Ethan didn’t mind at all. In fact, he’d already been in the bathroom, smelling your body wash, your shampoo and conditioner. The skincare products you used. He realized that all those things together were the cause of the scent that made his head spin.

Later that night after you had takeout with everyone, Ethan excused himself to go to bed. He couldn’t stop thinking about your panties that were still in his pocket. Once he pulled them out, he ran his fingers over the lace before taking in your scent. He softly groaned before he dropped his pants, the thoughts of his face buried in your pussy making him harder by the second. He had them tightly clutched in his fist as he started to stroke himself with his free hand, small whimpers flying out of his mouth as he tried to imagine how soft your hand would feel wrapped around him. His bottom lip was in between his teeth once he started to get louder, the tip of his cock red as be brought himself closer to the edge. Just as he was about to cum, he deeply inhaled the scent of your panties one more time before he rubbed them against the tip of his cock, his thick, white ropes covering the lace.

You thought living with boys was going to be difficult, but your first month wasn’t bad. You were surprised at how clean they liked everything to be, and Ethan always put the toilet seat down. You started to get close to your dorky roommate, especially once you spent so much time studying together. You already thought he was cute, but once you actually got to know more about him, you realized that he was so sweet, so nice. He might’ve been a little shy, too, but he got to the point where he was doing cute little things to make you laugh.

One day, you went to do your laundry in the apartment. You walked over and were about to throw stuff in when you noticed clothes were already inside, and Ethan quickly rounded the corner with the rest of the stuff he needed to toss in.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he said, “You want me to take my stuff out? I can wash it later.”

“No, it’s fine, I’ll wait,” you said with a smile, before you noticed something familiar in the washer. “Oh,” you said, your cheeks turning pink as you reached out and grabbed your panties out of the washer. “Must’ve dropped these in.”

Ethan’s eyes grew wide as he noticed them in your hand, the realization hitting you that they were sticky.

“Eww, what is all over these?” you said, a disgusted look on your face as you tried to figure it out. You looked over to Ethan, his face bright red and his eyes huge, when you pieced it together. “Ethan…”

He just stared at you, the silence deafening as he tried to think of something, anything to say to you. He’d gotten away with stealing your panties for a month, but it was a way for him to feel close to you, and satisfy some of the sexual frustration he had whenever he thought about you.

“What’s on my panties?” you questioned, as he tensed up. “Actually, I don’t think I want to know.”

You tossed them back in the washer and walked past him and headed straight to the bathroom to wash your hands. When you went to your room and shut the door, Ethan huffed and tossed in the rest of stuff that was in his hands before he started the washer.

As the day went by, you couldn’t stop thinking about Ethan, and how you’d noticed that pairs of your panties had been going missing ever since you moved in. But then you’d randomly see them again, in the top drawer of your dresser after a few days. You didn’t think Ethan was like that, and it made you feel a little uneasy to live with him.

Later that night, you had to say something to him. You walked out of your room and glanced around the apartment for him, before you walked to his closed door and started to knock. He eased it open after a few seconds, his eyes connecting with yours through the small crack.

“Can we talk?” you asked, as he took a deep breath and hesitantly opened the door for you.

You walked in and took a seat on the side of the bed, your gaze on his floor as you tried to think of the right way to talk to him.

“You want me to leave the door open,” he asked, barely above a whisper as you shook your head no.

“If Mindy or Chad come home, I don’t want them to hear the conversation.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled, before he took a seat beside you. “I’m sorry.”

“Why were you stealing my panties?” you asked, as he took a deep breath.

“I can’t explain it without sounding like the total creep you probably already think I am.”

“So…that was what I thought it was on them,” you said, as you turned to look at him. He nodded, looking away to not meet your gaze.

“Again, I am so sorry,” he said, “I know you probably hate me, and I understand if you don’t want to be around me. I’ll stay in my room so you don’t have to see me.”

“I’m just a little confused,” you said softly, as he finally let his eyes connect with yours. “What’s so exciting about my panties?”

At that moment, one thing you said to Ethan started to play in his head. ‘Sex is overrated.’ He was questioning how much experience you actually had.

“Do you really not know or are you fucking with me?” he questioned.

“Like, does it feel good? How does it even turn you on?” you asked, curiously staring at him.

“They uh…yeah, it feels good when I uh…rub them on myself. And they smell like you.”

“They smell like fabric softener and laundry detergent,” you said, a small laugh slipping out as he shook his head.

“I haven’t been stealing clean ones…they smell like you.”

“Oh,” you said, as you looked away from him. “That turns you on?”

“You have no idea,” he said, and even though the conversation was uncomfortable, he was getting hard.

“Why are guys so weird?” you thought out loud, laughing a little as you shook your head. “So does that mean that you like me? Or you’re like…sexually attracted to me? I still don’t fully get it.”

“Both,” he said, “I think you’re so beautiful, and I’ve had so much fun with you this last month…but I also think about you in a different way, too. Ya know?”

“I’ve thought about you that way, too,” you admitted, “It’d kind of hard not to. I hear you through the walls all the time.”

“You’ve heard me?” he asked, a blush spreading to his cheeks. “I’m sorry, I know you hated when you heard your old roommate.”

“I like it when I hear you,” you said so softly that he barely heard it.

“Do you touch yourself when you hear me?”

Your breathing got heavier at his question, and Ethan noticed. You were getting so flustered under his gaze.

“I…I’ve tried to,” you said, as you took in the curious look on his face.

“Tried to?” he asked, “What do you mean?”

“Like…I know what feels good, but I can never get myself…there, if you know what I mean.”

“You’ve never made yourself cum?” he questioned, admiring how cute you looked as you got embarrassed.

“No one has.”

“No one?” he asked, his throat dry at the thought. “Are you a virgin?”

“No…but I’ve never enjoyed sex. Like, it feels good, but I think it’s so disappointing when you hear how amazing orgasms are and then I just never get one.”

Ethan expected the conversation that was happening to go so differently. He thought you hated him, but there you were, telling him that you’d tried to get yourself off when you’d heard him. The thought of him being the first one to make you cum had him salivating, but he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable if he offered.

“Have you ever…given someone an orgasm?” you asked, as he nodded. “I’m jealous of whoever she is.”

“Don’t be,” he said, scooting a little closer to you. “Fuck, I’d make you cum all the time if I could.”

“Really?” you smiled, “If you ever want to, I’m right next door,” you joked, as he smiled and shook his head.

“Hey, don’t offer that or I’ll be in your room every day.”

You were starting to squirm against his bed, your thighs rubbing together so subtly that he could barely tell. The sexual tension was so thick, your breathing getting heavier as you thought about how good Ethan would make you feel.

“I think I need to go back to my room,” you said, as you started to stand up. That’s when you glanced at Ethan’s lap, noticing the tent in his sweatpants.

“Do you really want to?” he asked, “Because if you want me to take care of you right now, I will.”

“Seriously?” you questioned, as he smiled and nodded.

“Come here,” he said, reaching out to grab your hands, pulling you to him.

Once Ethan leaned in to kiss you, he was almost taken aback by how quickly your lips were moving against his. He was desperate for you, but you were just as desperate for him. He matched your pace before he pushed you back on the bed, his hand running from your hip, up your ribs, until it landed on your breast. You gasped into the kiss once he squeezed it.

You had massive butterflies in your stomach once you felt his cock pressing against your thigh through his sweatpants, your head was spinning, but you were loving every second of it.

“Hey, I have an idea,” he said, once he pulled away to catch his breath. “I think we should go to your room.”

“Why?” you asked because you didn’t want to stop. You needed his lips back on yours.

“Because you have that full length mirror leaning against your wall,” he said, chuckling once you noticed the confused look on your face. “I want you to see what I’m doing to make you cum…in case I’m never here to help you.”

“Okay,” you said, as he stood up and grabbed your hands.

Once he opened his bedroom door, he listened to make sure he didn’t hear anyone else in the apartment before he walked out and to your room next door. He shut and locked your bedroom door once he made it inside, before he pulled you into another kiss. His hands held onto your hips until they started to rub against the flesh under the hem of your shirt. He kept inching it further and further up, until he pulled away to pull it over your head. His lips went back to yours as he reached around to unhook your bra, his hands squeezing at your breasts once they were free.

His mouth moved to your neck as his hands explored your body, before they snaked under the waistband of your leggings. He moved them down over your hips as you shimmied out of them, leaving you in nothing but your panties. He recognized them as the first pair he ever stole, the black lacy ones.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, as his hand moved to rub you over your panties. The material was soaked as you moaned at the feeling. “That feel good?”

“Yes,” you said, quickly nodding your head just in case he needed the extra confirmation. “So good.”

“I hate that I have to take these off you,” he said, as he inched the fabric down your thighs, leaving you completely nude in front of him. “I’m going to sit on the floor in front of the mirror, and I want you to sit between my legs.”

“Okay,” you said, as he took a seat on the floor, his legs spreading for you to sit. You did as he said, looking at him in the mirror as he spread your legs, placing your feet on either side of his legs on the floor.

You watched him lick two of his fingers before he placed them against your clit, rubbing slow circles. Your eyes stayed on the reflection of his hand, your mouth parting as you started to breathe faster. He added a little more pressure as you fully relaxed back into his chest, the softest moans slipping out as he went a little faster.

“Ethaaan,” you whined out, the noise quickly becoming his new favorite sound.

“Shh, I don’t know if anyone else is here,” he said softly, “Just keep your legs spread for me, baby.”

He rubbed a few more circles on your clit before his fingers moved lower, one of them slipping inside you. He pumped it in and out for a minute before he added another, as you angled your neck to look up at him. He leaned down to kiss you as his fingers moved, before he started to mumble against your lips.

“If you ever finger yourself, this…” he said, as he curved them just right, a low moan flying out of your mouth, “Is the spot that needs attention. Okay baby?”

“Okay,” you whimpered, as he moved his fingers faster.

The sounds you were making just kept getting louder, and Ethan was just hoping and praying that no one else was home. One of your hands clung to his thigh as your other hand wrapped around his wrist, as you started to feel…different. It felt so good, and the last thing you wanted was for him to stop. Once he went even faster, the squelching sound of your wet pussy and your whimpers filling the room, your legs were trying so hard to close as your toes curled against the carpet on the floor.

“Oh my god,” you moaned, your fluttering eyes watching his hand in the mirror as your body started to tingle.

“Cum for me baby,” he encouraged, as you finally let that feeling wash over your body. You were jolting, your eyes screwed shut as his fingers started to slow, his free hand roaming your chest as you let out all your sounds.

Once you fully relaxed in his arms, he placed a kiss to the top of your head as your hazy eyes connected with his in the mirror.

“Now you can’t say no one’s ever made you cum,” he said with a smile, as he slid his fingers out of you. “Did it feel good?”

“That was better than I thought it was going to be,” you said, “Thanks, Ethan.”

“You’re welcome.”

You sat there in silence for a minute as you felt his cock pressing against you, and you wanted so badly to take care of him, until you heard commotion in the apartment.

“Hey, guysss,” Chad yelled, as he walked down the hall.

You tensed up as you glanced at your door, before Ethan whispered, “It’s okay, I locked it.”

You relaxed again before Chad started to yell again, “Tara’s here!”

You forgot about hanging out with Mindy and Tara for the night, and you didn’t want to pull away from Ethan, but you hesitantly did, your legs wobbling as you tried to stand. Ethan got up to help you, and once you got your bearings, he started to grab your clothes off the floor for you.

“Thanks,” you said, before you noticed him pick up your panties.

“No, thank you,” he joked, a smirk playing on his lips as he backed towards your door. “I’ll see you when you get back in the morning.”

“I better still have panties in that top drawer when I get back.”

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream smut #ethan landry smut #smut

[usedtobecooler]

live now, think later | steve harrington x afab!reader

a/n: thank you so much in advance to everybody who takes the time to read, reblog and comment on this fic. it's the first thing i've published in close to three months and i'm honestly a little nervous, i hope i've come back with a big enough bang! title is taken from think later by tate mcrae, and a massive thank you to @trashmouth-richie for making my header+dividers for me. 7.8k words.

summary: upon your arrival in hawkins to visit your old friend, eddie munson, his first idea is to drag you down to family video — where you ‘unintentionally’ meet steve harrington. a well timed deal, a fake friend date and a few drinks later, you find yourself in steve’s downtown apartment with lowered inhibitions.

warnings: sexual content 18+ minors dni, piv sex, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, bratting, spit kink, biting, hair pulling, very poor use of the pull out method. alcohol consumption, mentions of drug dealing and public heavy petting. no use of y/n and very minimal description of reader. eddie munson being eddie munson.

Eddie is all but dragging you into Family Video by your hand, the harsh metal of his rings digging into the webbing of your fingers as he pulls you in through the door.

Eddie Munson was easily the most excitable person you’d ever met in your life, and his sudden enthusiasm to get you into the video store is going to land you in the emergency room, because if he tugs you any harder your shoulder will detach from the socket. 

The buzzer above your head rings violently in an attempt to alert the staff that somebody has come in, and a mop of beautifully styled hair attached to an equally beautiful man comes into view as you edge closer to the rental counter.

"Hey, Stevie," Eddie grins, loud and unabashed, "you got that new one with Meg Ryan in it? Heard she cums at a dinner table and lady luck over here is desperate to see it." 

He's sniggering as you pull away from him and smack at his arm hard enough that he lets out an indignant yelp. Your face is burning hot with embarrassment as the boy's eyes dart back and forth between you both, confusion etched on his face.

He - Stevie, apparently - raises an eyebrow at you both, taking in the disheveled and most likely chaotic scene in front of him, "You mean 'When Harry Met Sally'?"

"Majorly concerning you know what movie it is from the description of 'Meg Ryan cums at a dinner table'," you quip, mouth running away from you before you can even stop it. Your face somehow burns even hotter, Steve crossing his arms over his chest with a small smirk.

He's in a preppy little striped polo shirt under his green embroidered work vest, and god his arms are bulging. His skin is tanned golden, a product of the heat of an Indiana summer, freckles and beauty marks prominent on his face, trailing down his neck and dipping below the collar. 

You stare for a beat too long. Taking in the man in front of you, who looks very sure of himself. 

Eddie knows you all too well, Steve is absolutely your type, which makes your first encounter all the more mortifying. 

"It's my job to know all the new releases, honey." Steve's smile grows smug, and it's breathtaking how attractive you find it, "You're both shit out of luck, it's been on rent all week. Romantic night in, is it?" 

Eddie scoffs from beside you, and it takes everything in you to not be offended by how quickly the noise escapes him, "Yeah, she wishes. She's not my type at all, Harrington. Annoying, clingy, pisses too lo-"

"God, shut the fuck up," you're mortified, covering your face with your hands, "I've been in town less than a day, are you trying to get me ousted?"

Steve looks all too amused by the encounter, struggling to hold back a chuckle. His pretty eyes never leave you as he speaks, "Munson's deflecting, I already know you rejected him and he's taking it like a dagger to the heart." 

Eddie points an accusatory finger, "Take it back, fucker. I've never been turned down in my life." 

Steve quirks a brow at him, then turns his attention back to you. You squirm under his strong gaze, "Is that true, doll? I feel like he's lying." 

"I'm not getting involved in this dick swinging contest," you hold your hands up, trying in vain to ignore the silly little pet name that really does it for you, backing away from the counter slightly, "what are we even here for, Eddie?"

"I was just making sure me and Stevie here were still on for drinks tonight." Eddie glances at Steve, who looks as confused as you feel, “You wanna join us?"

You shoot him an incredulous look, "This feels like a set up."

Eddie smirks, "Why's that? Can't three pals all go out for a drink together? I want my two best friends to get to know each other."

You narrow your eyes playfully, glancing at Steve who seems to have gotten with the program, all signs of confusion gone from his face, "I'm not sure I trust you." You huff, turning to Steve and nodding back at Eddie, "What if he's just setting us up so he can bail and I'm stuck with you all alone, Stevie?"

Eddie feigns offense, "Now why would I do that? Besides, even if I did, you're a big girl. I'm sure you could bully Steve into leaving you alone."

You smirk back at him, "Fine. But if you and Steve start getting all lovey-dovey, I'm bailing and leaving you to pay the tab."

Steve barks out a laugh, "Don’t worry about me, I can behave myself. Same can’t be said for Munson, he takes one look at the Harrington ass and loses all inhibitions.” 

“It is beautifully round.” Eddie admits in defeat, hand clinging to his own flat ass, a ridiculously deep frown etched onto his features.

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face and stays firmly put as you exit the video store, every nerve in your body buzzing when Steve winks in your direction when you depart.

The black lace bodysuit you wear clings to your curves nicely, the nip of your waist accentuated by your mom jeans. Eddie had even wolf whistled when he saw you, which was his nerdy way of saying you looked really fucking good.

As you pull up to the strip, Eddie slows down to a stop outside what looks like a dive bar, "I'm gonna drop you off here and go 'round back to park up the van, 'kay sweetheart? Steve's already in there."

Your eyes narrow, "I don't trust you, Munson. This feels like a set up."

Eddie holds his hands up, "It's not, I promise. I just need to go park the van and-" he trails off, sighs and rolls his eyes, "I have to go make a deal super quick. Don't want you there for that, this guy is sketchy."

You huff out a sigh, understanding him completely, Eddie really was a good guy who wouldn't put you in harms way. He knew leaving you with Steve momentarily was safer than taking you with him to a deal, and you trusted his judgment. 

"Okay," you agree eventually, making to hop out of the van, "but I swear, Eddie, if you don't come back, I'm gonna be pissed. You'd better be dead." 

Eddie holds up his hand in a scouts honor as if he was ever in the scouts in he first place, and you roll your eyes as you shove the creaky van door open and jump out.

"I'll be back soon, kiss Steve for me, will you?" Eddie jokes, grinning maniacally.

You stick up the finger and slam the door shut deliberately, making the walk around the side of the van before he can say anything in return.

As you make your way inside the bar, your mind races. Nerves and excitement are almost getting the best of you. Steve was just so cute, Eddie knew exactly what he was doing by introducing you both. 

The place is surprisingly cosy, pool tables dimly lit by orange colored lights. It’s reminiscent of a bar from back home, all hard wood and walls covered in various pieces of movie and alcohol paraphernalia. There are people scattered here and there, in booths and at the bandits, playing games of darts and billiards.

Steve's sat at the bar on an old vintage barstool, side on to you. He's dressed in a tight black t-shirt, washed out Levi jeans clung to his muscular legs and a pair of Adidas trainers with green stripes on his feet. He looked relaxed, floppy hair falling into his eyes. 

You were a goner already. 

As you approach the bar, Steve must sense your presence, as he looks up with a grin, "Hey! Where's Eddie?"

"Parking up the van," you smile, taking the stool next to him and jumping up onto it, trying to ignore the way your tits bounce very obviously with the motion, "I wouldn't bother ordering him a drink yet, though. He's, uh, occupied."

Steve's mouth opens in an understanding 'ah'. It was no secret how Eddie made money, and you were sure Steve had to be used to this by now.

The bartender comes over and you order some fancy cocktail on the menu that consists of Coke, dark rum and cherry liqueur. It comes with a Maraschino cherry on top, and you can't hide the excitement on your face as you take your first sip.

Steve watches you with an amused grin, "You look like you're enjoying that drink."

"Oh, I absolutely am," you reply all too quickly, "a day of Eddie's shenanigans are enough to warrant a good drink." 

Steve leans in closer to you, his eyes flickering over your body none too subtly, the charm ramping up with every sip of his Bud, "I think we’ve spoken far too much about Eddie for now. Tell me a little about yourself, honey."

Honey. There's that damn nickname again, enough to make you melt in a puddle off your barstool. There was no denying that Harrington knew what he was doing.

You shrug, going for nonchalant as you lock eyes, "Nothing to tell, really. I work in a little coffee shop during the day, and at night I guess I'm still trying to figure things out."

Steve nods in understanding, "What kind of things?"

You take another sip of your drink, relishing in the way it buzzes through your body, "Where I fit in the world, I guess. What I wanna do with my life in the long term. I’ve been in a rut for a while."

"I get that. Working in a video store in my mid twenties wasn’t really the plan set out for me, either." Steve responds with a furrowed brow, brutally honest, "Has Eddie told you much about me?" 

You consider, "Not really. Just that you're a ladies man and you’re forever swiping the ‘hottest babes in Hawkins’ out from under him, but you know Eddie, he's a bit. Theatrical." 

Steve chuckles, a flush on his freckled cheeks, as he leans in closer to you, "Between you and me, he's not wrong. Just haven't found the one to settle down with yet." 

At the close proximity, you can really take in Steve. He's all tanned skin covered in gorgeous beauty marks, a strong neck with prominent veins, muscular arms but clearly on the softer side like he didn't take it too serious. He was like a Greek statue, his nose like it was carved from the same stone. 

You flush, taking another - albeit larger - sip of your drink, swirling the ice in the glass, "So, do you pick up all the chicks in Family Video?" 

Steve smirks, his eyes sparkling with mischief, "You recommend a chick flick to a girl and it's like a moth to a flame." 

You do laugh at that, rolling your eyes fondly and nudging his shoulder with your own, "That's how you knew what movie Eddie meant! Romcoms are your strong suit for flirting purposes?" 

Steve's hazel eyes run over your face softly, his soft, pink lips jutted out slightly, "Would it have worked on you, if Eddie wasn't there?" 

Your breath catches in your throat, caught off guard by Steve's question, if only momentarily. "Yeah, I think so. Y'know, if it was actually the movie I was looking for and not an excuse for Eddie to mortify me." 

Steve grins, big and wide at that. Your faces are so close together that if he leaned forward just a smidge more you could rub noses. At this distance, you find yourself being drawn into his orbit, nudging closer to him subconsciously.

"Guess Eddie's bailed on us, huh?" Steve chuckles, moving back a bit and looking at the clock above the bar, the time ticking past an hour with no sign of Eddie coming back, "Or maybe it was his plan all along?"

"He's a schemer." You hum, watching curiously as Steve flags down the bartender and orders you both another drink. You try not to panic about the lack of cash in your back pocket, hoping the drinks weren't too expensive.

As your conversation dies down, your eyes are drawn back to his neck. It's covered in an array of moles and freckles, and you find yourself becoming almost mesmerized by it as he swigs from his beer bottle.

His neck is strong and muscular, tendons protruding as he gulps down the warm beer. The dusting of week old stubble adds to the masculinity of it all. It's a beautiful feature, one that you can't help but stare at with hazy eyes, and the markings scattered across his skin just make it more attractive.

Without even realizing it, your hand lifts, drawn to the smooth skin on the right hand side. You trace your fingertips along a particular set of the moles, shaped like carved out fang bites, feeling the texture against the pads of your fingers.

Steve looks at you, his darkened eyes filled with curiosity and something else entirely. You can't help but blush as you realize what you've been doing, only to find your fingers continue to roam across the skin anyway.

"Is my neck really that fascinating?" He teases, a slight chuckle falling from his lips.

You laugh lightly, trying to play it cool as your fingertips slip from the stubble roughened skin, dancing across the open collar of his shirt playfully before falling back to your glass, "Maybe it's just a bit distracting."

Steve smirks, that look in his eyes causing your heart to rabbit in your chest, "You know, I could get used to having your hands on me."

The huskiness in his voice catches you off guard, and you subtly clench your thighs together, aware of the fluttering in your gut as he leans in closer. 

You roll your eyes playfully, trying to cover your blush by raising your cocktail glass to your lips, "You're such a flirt." 

Steve only shifts closer at that, his shoulder bumping yours gently, "And what if I am?" He asks, lips so close to your ear that you can feel his hot breath dampen the skin, "You're the one with your hands all over me, honey." 

Your breath catches in your throat, a hot spike of heady need and want coursing through your body. It's a momentary slip, one that Steve no doubt catches immediately, "I never said I wasn't enjoying it."

Your voice is barely above a whisper, Steve's close proximity somehow narrowing further as his lips ghost over the shell of your ear, "Trust me, honey. I know you're enjoying it, you've had those pretty thighs of yours clamped together for a moment now. Gotta relieve that ache, huh?"

You shiver visibly, goosebumps rising across your neck and down your arms, jolts of electricity coursing through your body. As if Steve can sense it, he lets his own - unfairly, painfully large, veiny - hand run over your thigh, just above the knee. He traces the curve of your thigh through your jeans, barely touching but it's enough to make you ache for more.

Two seconds or five minutes later, who knows, he pulls away from your ear. You gawk, unsubtle, as he takes a long sip of his drink as if nothing ever happened. He smacks his lips together, those hazel eyes landing on yours again, a playful smile on his lips, "Where were we again?" 

You try to play it cool, but your body is reacting to Steve, still reeling from the feeling of his touch all over you, "Uh. Um," you start, making yourself busy by tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, "we were talking about our favorite movies, I think?"

Steve's face kind of screws up into a fake 'ah-hah!' as you blindly (and wrongly) fill in the blanks for him, seemingly completely unfazed by what just happened, "Right! You said your favorite of all time was Dirty Dancing, right?"

He’s making it up right before your eyes, playing along.  And it’s painfully unfortunate that he’s right without even trying, guessing your favorite movie right out the gate. It makes your brain go a little fuzzy. 

You take a deep breath, trying to focus on the conversation at hand. Even as Steve's own godforsaken hand continues to rest casually on your leg, his thumb running circles over your inner thigh, just above the knee, "Yeah, absolutely. Patrick Swayze, he's just swoonworthy."

You say it so casually, as if Steve himself didn't look like Swayze. More James Dalton than Johnny Castle, though. The hair, the tight black shirt, the jeans hugged perfectly to the swell of his ass and the curve of his muscular thighs. You had a type, clearly.

"Don't tell anyone, but Roadhouse is my favorite movie of all time." Steve grins, as if reading your thoughts from across the way, "Patrick Swayze, huh? Your type buff guys with a soft side?" 

"I would've thought me sticking around on this ‘date’ with you was enough of a giveaway on that front." You giggle, finally finding the courage to tip the last of your drink to your lips, swallowing it down in one fluid motion. You feel Steve's fingers dig into the meat of your leg, feel his eyes on you as you pretend not to notice.

You know you should move his hand away, but you can't bring yourself to do it. The feeling of his touch more intoxicating than the rum-filled drink you'd found yourself nursing, the hot feeling in your gut growing and growing the higher Steve's hand goes.  

"And here I was, thinking it was just my natural charm keeping you stuck in that seat." Steve says with a chuckle, running circles around your inner thigh like it's not making your insides squirm.

You roll your eyes, unable to hide your tipsy smile. There's just something about Steve, something so naturally charming that draws you in - he's confident without it being too much, and the way a stormy look swarms in his hazel eyes doesn't help with the physical pull you feel towards him.

The more he touches you, the more he looks at you, the more distracted you are by him. The alcohol coursing through your veins does nothing but amplify the warmth spreading through your body at his heavy petting.

He's beautiful, and you're blissfully comfortable in his presence, comfortable enough that the lull in conversation isn't even awkward. You look at each other through heavy lids, find yourself smacking your glossed lips together prettily, leaning your chin on your palm, elbow on the bar.

Finally, you speak, "So, do you always put these moves on your customers like this? Or am I special?" You drawl, teasing.

Steve leans in, his hand skating higher up your thigh, so close to the warm heat between your legs that you squirm a little, "Only the ones who make the moves first. You started this, remember?" 

Your heart rate kicks up a little more, and for a moment you forget where you are. All you can think about is Steve's wandering hand, the bedroom eyes he's giving you like he wants to devour you in public. You want nothing more than for him to pull you in for a kiss, to lose your inhibition and get lost in the heat of the moment. 

Somebody across the room begins hollering, crashing you back to reality, and it's a sobering reminder that there are dozens of people in this bar, who can see exactly what's happening right now. You clear your throat, shuffling back on your barstool a little, regretfully.

Steve's face falls, the flirty smirk gone in an instant, his hand dropping back down to your knee. You want to throw a tantrum like a little kid, tell him that it's not him, that you want it. Want whatever he's offering, just not here.

"We should maybe call it a night?" You offer, nodding towards the door, "I've probably gotta catch the bus back home, I know it leaves soon, so..."

You trail off and Steve nods, the disappointed look still on his face but a charming smirk gracing it once again, "Of course, I'll walk you over to the stop." 

Steve pays the tab like it's nothing, throwing bills and a nice tip on the bar for the guy who served you. As you leave the bar and walk out into the cool night air, it hits you fast just how much the drinks have gone to your head. 

"Hey, you okay?" Steve asks gently, a strong arm snaking around your waist. "My apartment isn't far from here, we can walk back there and sober up a bit? I can drive you home in a few hours." 

If it weren't for the fact you knew Steve, Eddie knew Steve, and he was known for being a decent guy despite his reputation, you'd have shot it down in a heartbeat. But, the opportunity to be in his presence a little longer was something you didn't want to give up.

And, honestly, you didn’t know which bus would get you back anywhere close to the trailer park, not knowing Hawkins from Adam. This was easily the safest option. 

You look up at him, snuggling into him on instinct, "Are you sure? I don't mind catching the bus, Steve. I'm a big girl, I can look after myself."

Steve beams at that, teeth shining as he looks down at you, his eyes fixed on yours, "You might be able to, but I wanna look after you tonight. And besides, I don't think either of us are ready for this to be over yet."

You hide your small laugh into his shoulder, unable to ignore the strong smell of cedarwood and bergamot wafting from his shirt, intoxicating in its own right. The giddy feeling that erupts in you is almost juvenile.

You walk down the streets quietly, taking in the pretty sunset that dims the strip in pretty pinks and oranges. There's a comfortable tension between you both, like you're both attempting to play it cool but the attraction is too strong to stop you from pulling into each other. He never once takes his hand off your waist, and that's a revelation all on its own.

Finally, you reach Steve's apartment, a cozy little bottom floor space. It's minimalistic, like a typical guy's apartment, but it feels homely. Smells like fresh laundry and the same aftershave you'd been smelling the entire walk over. 

Steve looks regretful as he untangles himself from you, throwing his keys down on a table at the front door, "Take a seat, honey. I'll go get you something to drink." 

It's all open planned, the entryway leading straight into the living room, where a simple leather sofa and matching lazy boy sit. You throw yourself down ungracefully on the sofa, tucking yourself into the corner with a leg pulled up under your opposite thigh. 

There's two pictures on a sideboard, one of Steve and Eddie with two women you don't recognize at what looked like an outdoor gig, amongst a crowd of concertgoers. Another with the Hellfire kids, who you wouldn't know if it weren't for Eddie. The lack of family pictures are telling, though you don't dwell on it.

"Lemonade okay?" Steve asks, a pitcher in hand and a few small cups in the other, "I mean, I do have whiskey and beer if you wanna keep the party going?" 

"Lemonade's great." Your voice is fond, unable to keep the smile off your face as Steve sets them down on the coffee table in front of you, looking so domestic it makes you ache.

Your eyes trail over the broad expanse of his back, his strong shoulders in that same tight tee, the way his moles and freckles even continue past the neckline. You wonder if he's covered completely, that same dull throb between your legs returning even as you sober up.

"Stop staring, you'll give me a complex." Steve drawls, not turning to look at you as he pours the cool lemonade into the glasses. You flush warm, averting your eyes. 

He throws himself down onto the sofa right next to you, body also tilted so that you're facing each other, though your legs touch, burning hot through layers of starchy denim.

"I'm sure plenty of girls have been caught staring at you over the years, Harrington." You counter eventually, mouth dry.

"None that looked quite as hungry for it as you do right now." Steve quips, that same flirty smirk on his lips as he hands you your drink, "I didn't say I didn't like it, though." 

Heat creeps up your neck, the need to take a drink intensifying. You do just that, sipping from the glass in your hand. 

Steve's a real handful, and the longer you spend in his presence, the less you know how to handle it. Your body reacting and taking over for your brain, any playful retorts dying in your throat.

"So," Steve starts, no doubt sensing your awkwardness, "tell me. How did you meet Eddie?" 

You pause for a moment, caught off guard by the question, "How did I meet Eddie?" You laugh a little, flippant, "Before he came to Hawkins to live with Wayne, he lived in my town. He came home last Christmas break and we met at a friend's party."

Steve raises an eyebrow, "A friend's party?"

You smile. "It's not a crazy story, just a guy we both knew at different times. We just clicked I guess, we have similar interests and he just has this way of making you feel comfortable and safe. I can see why you're friends, you're so alike in that way."

It's Steve’s turn to blush, a flush of pink spreading over his nose and cheeks cutely, "What a compliment. That's cool though, so you didn't know each other before he moved?" 

You shake your head, "Nah, he's a little older so we missed each other. But, our friend - Carter, told me this hilarious story about how he got kicked out of middle school that I've got to tell you..." 

You trail off, telling the story that Steve genuinely laughs at, this booming, goofy thing that is just so goddamn endearing. 

Steve listens intently, like he's genuinely interested. His gaze locked on yours, like he's trying to memorize every single thing you're saying. You don't miss his fond looks as you talk with your hands, gesturing wildly as you tell the story. 

And then, without warning, he leans in with a strong hand on the side of your neck, fingertips sliding into your hair. 

He gives you enough time to pull back, a moment to say no that you choose not to take. His lips brush yours, soft and tender at first until you're melting into his touch, deepening the kiss with a surge of your body. 

His hand almost engulfs your neck, thumb running gently over your trachea as your chest rolls into his, desperate to get closer. The light smacking sounds of wet lips making you light headed, your hand coming out to tug at the material of Steve's shirt to steady yourself.

Steve's tongue slithers out to swipe your bottom lip and you're a goner, climbing ungracefully into his lap, knocking him back against the sofa. He lets out a startled huff, both hands coming out to bracket your waist when you allow him entry into your mouth. 

It's raw, messy and a little bit gross. Steve tastes like beer and a tang of the lemonade he'd been sipping, a hint of something else under there, a heady cinnamon. It's intoxicating, more than the drinks you'd nursed in the bar, and you find your hips rolling down into his on instinct, desperate to show him how much you wanted him.

He grunts, hands rocking you and helping you along. He's not hard yet, not at all, but the way he's moving your body is clear enough that he's into it as your tongues slip back and forth. He pulls back a little, the kiss becoming light and you let him guide you.

"Sorry, I just," Steve looks up at you with wild eyes, hair fanned out around his face where he lies back against the sofa, "I couldn't help it. You're so kissable, y'know that?"

“Don’t say sorry,” you scold playfully, smirking down at him, “you have my permission to do what you want. Anything you want.”

His hand wanders over your breast teasingly, light touches that you can barely feel through the layers of bra and shirt over your taut nipple, enough to have you arching into the touch in a silent plea for more.

Steve chuckles, deep and mischievous, clearly enjoying how your body melts under the simplest of grazes. It’s clear as day that he doesn’t give one singular fuck as to how desperate you are, pleased and satisfied taking his time with you.

Your hands entangle in his thick chestnut hair, tugging roughly at the root until Steve is moaning, hand faltering to skate down your stomach. Landing on the button of your jeans, but not moving. 

“Steve.” You groan, impatient, “Don’t frustrate me or I’ll do it myself. Please?”

Steve tsk’s, his pearly whites gleaming in the low light as he smirks at your desperation, “You don’t like it slow?” 

You roll your eyes, tugging his hair again, using it as reins to grind down into him, the heat of your cunt enough to have him grunting quietly. “Slow is boring. Slow means careful. I don’t want you to be careful with me, Steve. Show me how desperate you can be, show me how desperate you are for me.” 

Steve’s eyes flash so dark they’re near black, the sweetness still lurking vanishing in an instant. He gives you one last squeeze to your ass before he’s using both hands to practically rip the button of your jeans, fingers slipping into the tight denim and beneath the satin of your panties. 

“I’ll show you, you impatient brat,” he grunts, fingertips sliding between your folds and his eyes roll back at the feeling, “like fucking velvet, honey. You’re so wet, how long you been like this for me?”

“Somewhere between entering the bar and you touching my thigh.” You breathe, crying out when his pointer and middle finger slide into you at once, a blissful stretch that takes your goddamn breath away. 

“So easy for it.” Steve coos, and it would be offensive if it weren’t for the way he looks at you with honey swirled irises, soft at the edges despite the bite of his words. 

The hand not preoccupied with your cunt grips for your throat, thumb pressing into your pulse point as Steve surges forward to capture your lips once again. It’s rough, intimate, the graze of Steve’s stubble rubbing your chin raw as he bullies his tongue into your mouth. 

Your brain short circuits, his tongue reducing you to a bumbling, sobbing mess as you grind down into his palm, clit catching and rubbing against the dry skin in the most painfully beautiful way. 

The air is thick with sexual tension, thicker than the strands of hair you pull and tug at, thicker than the outline of his cock that you can feel digging into the fat of your inner thigh. 

“That’s it,” Steve mumbles against your lips, the pads of his fingertips rubbing against that little bump on your frontal wall that has your hips jumping forward of their own accord, “don’t hold back, honey. Let me hear you fall apart for me.”

It’s domineering. He’s fully in control and you’re letting him as you rut against the palm of his hand, sweat coating your brow as you fuck your hips against him, desperate to reach the edge. 

The plushness of his lips kiss down your jaw, to your throat where he latches on and sucks his mark into your skin. Sure to be a beautiful purple bloom in the morning, a temporary reminder that he was there. You want to beg for more. 

So you do. 

“Mark me like I’m yours.” You cry, whimper, even. Your body runs hot, goosebumps erupting on your skin as your impending orgasm starts to build. 

You swear you feel the smirk against your flushed throat. Steve latches onto you again, this time lower down, wider. You pull his hair, sighing contentedly as he suckles, nibbles at your tender flesh to produce yet another mark. 

His hips jump up against yours, a momentary slip that makes you want to plead for his cock, your brain so fuzzy with the need to rut and fuck that you’re about to give up the orgasm you’re so close to getting. 

“You’re clenching so tight around my fingers, baby,” Steve moans, kissing soothingly over the thumping ache of a bruise he’s left on your neck, “you gonna cum for me?” 

The white hot flashes of want and hunger you feel prickle up your back only intensify with his words, the end in sight as you ride against the palm of his hand feverishly, your clit sliding beautifully over the flesh. 

Your orgasm rips through you like a fucking knife to the stomach, your fingers gripping and pulling Steve’s hair so tightly that his head snaps back with the sheer force. You sob wetly, riding his fingers with jerky hips as he fucks you through it, eyes bleary but focused enough to see the hungry way he looks at you falling apart for him, soaking your panties and his fingers in the process. 

“You needed that one, huh?” Steve coos, mocking you lightheartedly as his fingers deftly slip from inside of you. You try your best to ignore the way it makes you feel empty. 

You nod dumbly after a moment, the whooshing in your ears beginning to fade out. You collapse into his chest with a small, contented sigh.

It takes only a mere few seconds for you to get with the program once more, kissing tenderly at Steve’s mole flecked neck, burying in to nip with your teeth hesitantly. Your hips move like they have a mind of their own, grinding down into the incredibly prominent bulge that rests hard against his zipper.

He grunts, hips thrusting up into yours as you move in some sort of slow, aching rhythm. His wide hands practically engulf your waist, fingertips digging into soft, supple flesh to help you rock your tired body against his own. 

It feels so fucking good, your body reacting to his in a way that was genuinely concerning, the primal need to fuck and have him inside of you taking over any kind of inhibition you previously had. He feels big, thick and hot nestled between your folds through two layers of rough denim, and the desperation ramps up.

You whine, pathetic into his salty, sweat damp skin, “Need more. Need you inside me, Steve.”

Steve groans like he’s in pain, hips jerking up involuntarily like they have a mind of their own, knocking you both out of the rhythm, “You sound so pretty when you beg. I’ll take care of you, honey. Knock you dumb just like you need.”

The sound you make is so pathetic that you instantly bury your face tighter into his skin, fingernails biting at the back of his neck. Steve’s hands are under your ass in a second, gripping to your thighs as he flips you onto your back on the sofa, muscular thighs spreading your legs impossibly wide as he buries between them.

“You need these off.” He grunts, pulling at the baggy denim of your jeans with rough fingers. You barely have the coherency to lift your ass up to help him wriggle you out of the offending material, body practically limp after the bone melting orgasm he just gave you with practiced ease.

“This too?” He asks gently, reaching for your top. You nod, lifting yourself up so he can slip it over your head, leaving you in only your bra and panties. 

You don’t wait for him to ask before you’re unclasping your bra, pulling that off so that your tits are bared too. They look great, your best feature if you did say so yourself, so it wasn’t exactly a difficult decision to make. 

He marvels at you for a second too long, taking in the sight of your body laid out below him, and those stormy eyes of his look deeper yet again – he looks hungry. Instead of it making you self conscious, it only spurs you on.

You wrap your legs around his torso, thick thighs pulling him in until he’s losing his balance and having to lean one arm out against the arm of the sofa to brace himself over you. The gold of his chain dangles close to your mouth, cooling the plumpness of your bottom lip with every gentle sway. 

“Down, girl,” Steve scolds, though that cocky smirk still graces his features and makes him look so painfully hot it makes your pussy flutter, “I gotta go get a condom.” 

You scoff, rolling your eyes, “And risk ruining the moment? You’re clean, right?”

Steve nods, that cock-sure confidence faltering for a second, “Are you?”

You nod, biting at your bottom lip, “Haven’t done this for a while, big boy. You think you have the restraint to pull out in time?” 

Steve shudders visibly at your question, a heady whimper escaping his lips, “I can try my best, but no promises, honey. I felt how tight and soaked you were around my fingers, if you feel too good I’m not responsible for the consequences.”

You let out a shaky laugh, though it cuts off into a moan when Steve lifts himself up and away from your body for long enough to stretch his arms behind his neck, pulling his shirt off from the back of his head with one fluid movement. 

He’s a marvel. The moles and beauty marks extend the entire way down his torso, even below his belt line, arms sculpted beautifully and his tummy muscular yet still soft. He’s everything, your belly flutters looking at this fucking perfect man sat between your spread thighs like some sort of Greek marble statue.

“Holy. Wow.” Your mouth is dry, your hands having a mind of their own yet again – just like in the bar – and coming out to touch and squeeze the flesh of his torso. Steve smirks, like he knows what you’re so hung up about, arching into your touch. 

He allows you the seconds of indulgence before it’s back to business, his fingers making light work of his belt and jeans as he regrettably departs his space between your naked legs to push the material down his legs and away from your bodies. 

His dick is so heavy that even though it’s fully hard, it doesn’t slap against his tummy, hanging slightly forward with its own weight. He’s big. Alarmingly big. And did you mention thick? Really thick.

God. He was going to be a stretch.

Steve grins sheepishly, settling back between your legs hesitantly. He makes to speak, but you stop him in his tracks; 

“You’ve not gotta be gentle,” you reassure, reminding him of your words before he dipped his hands into your panties just minutes ago, “fuck me like you mean it.”

Steve groans, burying his face into your neck as he lines himself up with your cunt and pushes in with one fluid motion. It knocks the breath out of the both of you for a moment, and you whimper pitifully at the gorgeous, burning ache of him stretching you out to fit him perfectly. 

“Holy shit,” He breathes, panting into your neck, “so fucking tight for me, honey.” 

You preen at Steve’s words, arching into his torso and somehow pushing him in even deeper. He had no idea just how much it stroked your ego to hear those words, no idea that it turned your insides into goo to know you were doing so good for him before it even started.

He rolls his hips into yours, the wet heat of your cunt gripping him, and you pant like an animal in heat when the subtle movement causes the coarse hair nestled in his mons to catch onto your sensitive clit. 

Your hips wriggle a little after a moment, a sign to let him know it’s okay to move, and Steve takes that subtle movement and runs with it — pulling out only to slam back in again, knocking your body up the couch.

It’s maddening. Your body runs hot with want and desperation, insides molding to the shape of his – quite frankly, annoyingly big - dick with each thrust, driving you absolutely insane in the process. The cut head rubs against that damn spot each time, and you know he’s going to tip you over for a second time all too soon.

“Fuck.” You cry, hands coming up to bury in his mane of hair once again and tug him down, “Fucking — how does it feel to be Gods favorite?”

Steve grins, mischievous and lust bitten around the edges as he sinks into your cunt with a quickening pace, “Stroke my ego baby, I love it.”

“Don’t get cocky, Stevie. Or I’ll just shut my mouth.”

The grin turns salacious, a large hand coming out to wrap along the expanse of your throat, just resting and not pushing, thumb caressing the side of your neck soothingly, “Don’t you wanna be good for me, honey? Or are you bratting so that I’ll give you what you really crave?” 

You whimper involuntarily, and that's all the confirmation Steve needs to really drive into you. Your back arches so that your torsos flush together, and he snakes a hand beneath the curve to grip onto your waist from below. 

“Oh my God!” You moan, body jolting at the change of angle. You’re turned into a babbling mess, fingernails digging into each of Steve’s biceps as he fucks you deep, rough enough to leave a mind numbing sting that you swear you feel in your damn throat. 

He’s looking at you with this wild expression, eyes wide like he’s drinking you in, watching each emotion he evokes from you with his body, “That’s it, taking me so fucking good. You like being fucked like a whore, honey?”

You nod, knocked dumb, mouth hung open like a pliant slut, a constant steady stream of whines and shuddering gasps falling from parted lips with each deep slide of his cock inside of you.

“You trust me?” He whispers, lips hovering just mere centimeters from your own, and you nod again, going cross eyed. 

A drop of saliva hangs from Steve’s pursed lips, sliding down into your open mouth and onto your tongue. You cry out, pathetic and desperate as you swallow down the spit like it’s cool water on a hot summers day. 

Steve shudders against you, hips slamming into you as his thrusts become erratic. You pray his apartment is somewhat soundproof, for all you can hear is the wet slap of skin on skin mixed with dirty moaning and pitiful cries.

“You’re perfect,” Steve mutters, sloppily kissing your lips before moving back to your jaw, worrying the flesh between his teeth like he can’t help it, “a fucking dream, honey. See how you’re ruining me?” 

You don’t get a chance to reply before he’s dropping your body back onto the sofa, his thumb swiping over your clit in a desperate attempt to get you there before he does.

It’s all too much. Your body runs hot, static surging up your back, hot in your gut as he works you over. You have to clench your eyes shut, painfully aware of his sculpted body gleaming with sweat, the swivel of his hips as his cock buries deep into you. 

Your second orgasm hits you just as hard as your first, your legs shaking and cunt clenching sporadically as it washes over you like a fiery inferno, gasps and wet cries of Steve’s name and other incoherent nonsense spewing from your lips. 

“Oh shit, holy fuck, baby you feel so – so good, god I’m gonna cum,” Steve shallowly fucks into you, jerky and desperate, “where do you want me to– fuck!” 

You open your eyes within enough time to see Steve pull out of you, sloppily tugging at his cock two, three times before he’s spilling all over your stomach. Hot spurts of it cover you from your belly button the whole way to your chest, and you swear you’ve never seen a man cum so much in your damn life.

It’s so hot. Being branded by ropes of cooling semen, sparking over finger bitten skin and bruises made by warm and heavy lips. 

There’s a long second afterwards, where Steve sags heavily against the couch as his dick softens, both of you panting and trying to catch a breath. 

“I’ll be right back,” Steve’s voice shocks you out of the contented post-orgasm haze, his hand squeezing your inner thigh gently as he gets up from where he’s perched, off in search of what you don’t know.

He reappears with a wet washcloth, and it’s all very domesticated as he wipes you down gently with the cool towel, fingers gentle against your sore skin in a stark contrast to just moments earlier.

You’re both completely naked still. This should be strange, but it doesn’t feel that way. Steve makes you feel painfully at ease and that’s something your orgasm fogged brain can’t comprehend or bear to think about right now.

“This might be a bit presumptuous, but,” Steve hums, inspecting your body to make sure he’s cleaned you down good enough for his liking, smirking as you squirm under his gaze, “do you wanna stay the night? It’s really late and, uh, well I don’t wanna kick you out after that. It was a bit intense.”

Your eyes are bleary. Fuck. He’s going to ruin you for anybody else.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” Your voice is soft, quiet as you rise from the soiled sofa to sit up properly, “You’ll need to call Eddie, let him know I’m okay.”

“I think he knows you’re all good,” Steve grins sheepishly, helping you to your feet and tugging you close as soon as you’re up, “I might’ve called him when I was in the kitchen earlier, let him know you were here to sober up.” 

You roll your eyes with a small smile, leaning into him with a heavy sigh, “You better have a comfy bed.”

“The comfiest.” Steve confirms, dragging you gently towards the door, “I also have a really big shower, and really good water pressure, so…” 

“Oh my God, I’m never leaving.” You mumble into his chest, giggling playfully when he lifts you up ever so slightly with his muscular arms and knocks the bedroom door shut behind you. 

part 2?

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington blurb #mine #my fanfic #x reader

[mischiefmaker615]

Fangs

Rating: PG14

Requester: @eleniblue

Promp: "Why do you think that you need to fix me? Who told you I was broken?"

Summary: You discover Loki's secret 

Note: TBH i've been wanting to try a Vampire Loki one shot..

"Why do you think that you need to fix me? Who told you I was broken?"

His voice was barely a whisper, almost as if he were right beside you when you clearly had your gaze on him from across a healing table.

Your eyes flicked up at him, having finished letting your minor cut heal under the magical glow before drawing your hand away from his.

His fingers gave a very small resistance, as if not wishing to let you go just yet as your fingers slid from his, both your finger tips faintly hesitating before your arm returned to your side again. Your other hand gripped your servants gown, your nails reminding you just how tight you had it clutched from your nervousness where you finally released the fabric.

That's all you were weren't you.. servant. But to prince Loki, you were more than that..

A servant and a prince. In his eyes you were nothing more than a goddess, as he's often reminded you. he often found excuses to be able to run into you, to have you on call for mere tasks that you would bring yourself to him as well. And you went willingly. You always did. There was something.. about it, something different.. and with each passing day as your bond grew, you knew there was something he just wasn't admitting. The funny thing was, his feelings were clear and he's spoken of them and his intentions.. but what he hid was deeper than that.. something that grew fear in your chest by the mere thought of daring to ask.

The opportunity always presented itself to ask what exactly he hid but words never left your mouth. How could you? you both have shared your hearts, have shared a bed, and he new your every soul and desire as if it were apart of him. was this it?

The way he gazed at you now had your eyes captive in his and you could feel your heart race as you drew in a breath to not have your prince wait any longer. ''it would seem you are the one always having to fix me..'' you often a light joke, your smile disappearing before you could even fully raise in as he slowly drew his hand off the table and he straightened to his full height. Even with the relationship you both secretly had, the prince never failed to remind you just how different your positions were, making your eyes drop respectfully.

''answer pet..'' he whispered.

''.. I don't wish to fix you Loki.. and I don't think you are broken..'' you answer with your voice just as quiet as his. Your eyes slowly raise to meet his own, seeing how he gazed upon you in question as you boldly spoke his name. ''..i can.. sense that you have been secretly struggling with something for a long time..'' you spoke, your head tilting up ever so slightly to gaze up at him and felt yourself take a breath. ''something to long..''

Loki's eyes roamed over you, his body stiffening as if you were on to him yet his expression never gave you an answer about what he was really thinking. He never did. His words were always answer but you've often had to find the right questions. That is, when he wasn't using seduction to have you forget what you wished to ask in the first place.

Your eyes glanced down where your cut had previously been, a reminder of a small pruning incident with the roses just before he made his presence known in the garden not long ago. He was always there wasn't he.. whenever you got hurt. Whenever you were bleeding..

Your eyes slowly moved up to his, the warm yellow glow of the healers table illuminating his eyes. Those eyes.. they always seemed different until you would begin questioning their color, just as they were now. Back to blue. But not before..

Your steps moved you before you could even register what was happening, slowly moving yourself around the table as you hold his gaze in your own now with a small kindling of confidence that rose in your chest. Your hand slid and followed along the table's edge as you brought yourself around and stopped before him, his head dipping down ever so slightly to look at you with careful breaths rising his chest.

''...you're starving aren't you..''

There was a chill in the air so it seemed, your one, simple statement being enough to draw silence between the two of you which seemed to feel like forever as he wordlessly parted his lips in question.

''i.. pet- i.. what are you-'' for once in your entire life, the prince struggled for words before you.

You both knew.

''it's okay Loki.. you're not broken.. you don't need to be fixed.. you're just hungry..'' your words were a whisper, where you almost couldn't even hear yourself if you hadn't seen the prince's reactions.

Ever so slightly he would take slow steps back as you slowly stalked forward, your eyes never leaving each other's even once as his back reached the wall with still that slight stocked expression that one would miss if they weren't gazing upon him intently.

''I've know for a long time my prince.. and it's okay.. this secret will be unspoken and safe with me..'' you said carefully, seeing how his eyes even questioned your loyalty but you kept your expression serious. He was the god of lies after all, and knew he saw truth in your words. Your shoes stopped just before his, tilting your head up and to the side as you looked at him.

''I love you Loki. It's okay..'' you breathed, love in your eyes as your hand slowly rose up and brushed your hair to one side, exposing your neck to him.

Right in that moment, time seemed to stop. His breath held, his eyes widen and his body stiffened. Those eyes were no longer blue anymore.. but took on the same color as the very blood that had left your hand not to long ago. His hands shook, restraint and control fighting him as he seemed to be losing and coming undone, something Loki has always been skilled at maintaining. Yet not tonight. Not right now.

And he snapped.

His slender fingers wrap around your wrist, using one swift motion to turn you both where your back now is pressed against the wall with the god before you looming dangerously close.

''you're a clever girl, that you are..'' he whispered, his voice almost reminding you of a snake and could feel the tip of his nose rub against your neck as his hand grips your jaw to keep your head tilted to the side. His thumb runs against your bottom lip while you hear him inhale your scent and could see a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. ''I am unsure of how you figured it out love,.. perhaps I was careless around you.. as one does when they are in love.'' His eyes flick to yours. ''their walls come down.''

A knee moved itself between your legs, applying just enough pressure as he rubbed against your sensitive area; your hand gripping his wrist as you tried not to whimper while the other rested against his chest. You always felt small like this- granted your heights were drastically different anyway, but he used this to his advantage.. and absolutely relished in it.

''I know I can trust you love, and that you are telling the truth.. but you should not have offered me this..'' he sighed, your eyes trained on him but didn't move, your pleasure from his grinding knee distracting you as you tried focusing on his words.

''I care for you Loki, I wanted too..''

You bite your lip as you held back a moan, feeling the flat of his tongue slowly drag across the crook of your neck, making your shiver and your fingers tighten.

''and that is why I love you Y/N.. you know of the danger, of the risks and yet you still place myself before your own desires and needs. Truly a treasure to be kept sacred.. which is why I will do my upmost best, darling, to not inflict pain upon you. at least.. not in this way..'' he promised, his red eyes meeting your own to ensure of you the truth behind his words before he inhaled, his eyes closing and his brows furrowed in concentration.

You knew what he was, you knew what to expect, yet your body still reacted once his eyes reopened and his lips parted slightly. His eyes didn't dare meet yours, almost as if he didn't wish to see your possible reaction of fear as your eyes left his lust filled ones to rest upon his slightly long fangs that promised would pierce without much force. Your body tensed and your eyes widened as he kept his eyes trained on your neck and you felt his groin grow hard as he moved his knee away to move even closer to you, grinding himself against you as his hand left your wrist to lace his fingers with yours and kept you pinned all the same.

There was slight fear, more anxiousness of the unknown but you made no move to stop him, to fight him, and as if sensing your worry almost seemed to drive him more as he gave your neck a kiss before you squeezed your eyes shut.

Your whole body seemed to jump as pain shot through your body, almost feeling like you had gotten stabbed by a dagger or shocked with electricity.. perhaps both as you felt his teeth pierce your skin deep before pulling away slightly. Your fingers gripped his shoulder, holding on as if he were to save you although he was your attacker. Just your reaction alone, and perhaps by now to new smell of blood was enough to cause Loki to moan against your skin, pressing himself against you as if he had no intention on letting you go.

The next thing you felt was his lips against your wound, the pain still stinging as you tried to move your head but his hand still on your jaw prevented you from doing so, wanting to remain in his access to your neck while he began to suck at you.

It was like a sort of tingling, it felt like you were being given a hickey but with a stronger suction. Much stronger. It was a strange feeling, feeling your blood leave your body and one could almost miss it if they weren't paying close attention. You felt Loki's body relax a little, knowing his hunger was being satisfied as he drank from you. it was almost explicit, exotic in the strange world of sexual pleasure where your fear seemed to be subsiding and your eyes closed, resting your head back as your lips parted. Your attention switched once he began grinding himself against you again, causing you to shiver as your pleasure began to build.

''Loki...'' you breathed in pleasure and reopened your eyes with a small smile, yet that smile only lasted for so long before you began seeing your vison grow fuzzy.

Blood loss will do that.

Your body began to tense, panic seemed to set in as he seemed to have no intention of stopped and you knew the risk if you lost to much blood- or all. He always paid attention to all your reactions and responses- it was quite frankly his favorite part yet he didn't seem to be letting up as you began squirming, feeling panic from how your vison danced and your strength growing weak- to pleasure as he seemed to keep grinding himself against you.

''L-Loki-'' you whimper, your fingers tightening on his shoulders and your other hand trying to pull out of his. ''P-Please..''

A yelp left your lips as you felt him puncture you once more just below your shoulder, his hand leaving your jaw to pin you by your free shoulder and felt him hum against you as he began drinking again. You felt warm liquid rolling down against your skin by your neck as your body tensed and your lips parted. Words never came as he was quick to swipe the straying blood with his tongue before continuing to drink and you felt his body shiver in pleasure.

Your eyes slowly closed as your body began growing rapidly weak and cold and your grip loosened. Knowing he was happy and alive, sating his torturous hunger was enough to at least give a small smile on your lips before everything went black.

~

Cold, slender fingers slowly stroked your cheek as you reopened your eyes again. Your memory was fuzzy but you knew you had passed out for quite awhile. Your vision met a warm, yellow light, indicating you were laying upon the healers table and you found your body feeling normal.

Moving your head to the side to see who was caressing your cheek, your eyes met the prince's blue ones and a small smile of relief was on his lips as he kneeled down on his knee to be more at your level.

''darling.. I'm glad you are well..'' he said, guilt behind his voice as his eyes moved over your body as if the healing missed anything before moving back to your own, seeing how you seemed relaxed and honestly.. smiling.

''I am well Loki, and am glad you could say the same.. you're looking much better'' you admit quietly, your hand raising up to hold his hand and he opted for it as he stopped stroking your cheek.

''I shall be forever grateful my lady..'' he gently teased as gazed off slightly, his smile fading a bit. ''..it's to dangerous to do it again.. you passed out for some time''

''that's what the table is for Loki- I'll be fine-''

''not with me darling.. I found myself unable to pull away, to have self-control.. I couldn't stop. I didn't want to- I didn't care.. you are lucky you woke up..'' he said sadly, his eyes searching yours as you slowly brought yourself to sit up.

Despite your usual shy state and the constant reminder of your position, this was between lovers. So you brought your hand up too his cheek without hesitation in a gentle stroke, just as he had to yours to wake you up; feeling him lean into your hand as he closed his eyes with shame.

''love is about sacrifice.. if you fought yourself at the door of death Loki, I'd gladly throw myself in replace if it meant saving you. I'll do it again if I find yourself looking the way you had.'' You promised, seeing how he opened your eyes as if he had to search for any sort of lie, shocked as you never hesitated to show how much you felt about him as he brought his hand up to rest against yours.

''I swear by it Y/N.. for you, I will not rest until I have brought myself into a state of self-control.. I will not lose you for the sake of sating myself of the temptation of blood..''

Your eyes gazed upon his, how your smile inspired his own as you brought your arms around his neck to pull him closer. His arms didn't hesitate to wrap around you as well as you both held each other and the great weight of his secret could be felt lifting from his shoulders as he buried his face into your neck with his body fully relaxing. You stroked his hair, just how he liked as you rested your chin against his shoulder and the strong feeling of boldness filled your chest. At the same time, your cheeks reddened at the very thought and darkened once the words left your lips.

''..are you hungry for something else?'' you asked, maybe a bit to seductively as he slowly pulled away from you, his eyes flicking down at your lower self with a smirk spreading over his lips as he gazed back into your eyes.

''..quite starving my darling.''

#loki x reader smut #loki odinson #loki god of mischief #loki fluff #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson #loki #loki smut #loki x reader #lokifluff

[nalyra-dreaming]

I've been thinking for a long time that Eric Bogosian won't play Daniel for many years if the show really gets the desired 8 seasons, and how to get out of this situation. And I had a crazy theory. What if we get the Devil's Minion in season 2, but not to the full extent. Perhaps they won't tell us until the last episode that there was something more than a chase between Daniel and Armand, and in the finale it will be a tub of ice water for ignorant fans in a compartment with everything else that will happen and for those who know it will also be an emotional meat grinder. And if we are talking about the parallel of Louis and Daniel's story, then if Louis tries to commit suicide, then something will threaten Daniel's life so much that it will bring the moment of his death as close as possible. A worsening of the disease or anything else. And in season 3, we will be shown how Armand is trying to find a way to save him without turning him into a vampire, or he already knows this way and we will be shown how he came to this method, and in parallel with modern Armand who is trying to save Daniel's life, we will be shown past moments of the Devil's Minion with all the details of love/ romance/sex and all sorts of other dirty things, and these memories will somehow enhance the effect of Armand's struggle for his boy's life in the present. And at the end of the third season, Daniel will somehow be given a new/prepared/cloned body. And after that, we'll say goodbye to Eric and Daniel will only be played by Luke as in the past (if flashbacks from the 80s are still needed after season 3) so it is in the present.

How crazy does that sound?

... actually not that crazy given the chronicles!!

I mean... it's probably no coincidence that Sam, Jacob and Rolin want to do "The tale of the Body Thief" (and that rumor re Raglan James?!), which... could fit in very nicely, couldn't it.

I mean... I have always said (and stand by that) that I would love old!Daniel to be turned, but... I can see the narrative hooks they probably would prefer to employ wrt Daniel.

However they will do it will need to be set up very ... carefully though, because the general audience probably won't know what hit them if / when that happens *laughs*

#Anonymous #asks #ask nalyra #amc iwtv #iwtv #amc interview with the vampire #interview with the vampire amc #iwtv amc #iwtv 2022 #interview with the vampire #the devil's minion #armand #daniel molloy #devil's minion

[ca-8]

How the Bigger Bodies Smiling Critters Died (head canons)

Alright so I R E A L L Y wanna talk about how I think the Smiling Critters perished in Poppy Playtime

Cw: mentions of (sorta) cannibalism, torture, accidental suicide, self-harm, addiction in terms of The Red Smoke

this is gonna be r e a l l y long, so strap in y'all

. ☀️⭐️🍎💡⚡️🌸❤️☀️⭐️🍎💡⚡️🌸❤️☀️⭐️🍎💡⚡️🌸❤️ .

Bubba Bubbaphant

"I'm Bubba Bubbaphant! ...Hey! I remember you!" "An elephant always remembers!" "Want to know what I remember about you...?" This character is pretty much the nerd emoji of the Smiling Critters. He's really smart, and, as he stated in his cardboard cut-out dialogue, has a really good memory. Although I can't really see that being put into play of his actual death, I can see that this last bit of information he stated (before just spiraling out of control) can be connected to our character. (Our character is an ex-worker and is always greeted with distain by the major antagonists, which leads me to believe that we have actively, or at least indirectly, participated in the child/worker experimentation/conversion based on what Bubba says. Although in his last bit of "dialogue", he's screaming quite loudly as if he was in major agony, but also laughing, as if he was ingesting something that caused great harm to his mentality and body, but since he's had it so many times before to the point where he actively begs to have more, it's agonizing, but also "heavenly." Therefore I think his cause of death would be due to him trying to escape during The Hour of Joy, but was eventually caught by CatNap and his use of The Red Smoke. In the Smiling Critters cartoon, all the critters are struggling to go to sleep because of how scared they were of the storm outside. However, once CatNap enters, they all practically light up with such disturbing happiness. Bubba is the first one to beg him to "help them go to sleep". Fast forward to The Hour of Joy, CatNap must've used his addiction against him to keep him sorta in place so he could kill him.

KickenChicken

"Hey! I'm KickenChicken! Wanna go outside and hang out?" "It's lookin' pretty rad outside!" "I've...never been outside before..." "Will you come with me? I'm scared..." "Here, follow me. I-I'll step out first..." Here, I used to think that he had barricaded himself along with some of the other critters somewhere safe inside the Playcare during The Hour of Joy, and he decided to step outside once all the humans were finally killed. Once he did, CatNap found him and killed him for his disobedience towards his god. But a recent theory sorta convinced me otherwise. I still believe in my own theory, but I also support the fact that KickenChicken could've also been one of the first toys to reach an exit to the outside world. But, once he and the other critter tried to step outside, he got killed by the Prototype.

Picky Piggy

"Hi there! I'm Picky Piggy! Let's eat!" "Roast beef? Delicious!" "Grilled chicken? Down the hatch!" "Seared elephant? Yum!" "Flayed unicorn? Mmm!" "Still hungry... Hey, what do you say you and I be friends?" (This one actually scares the hell out of me, i love it) And it's pretty obvious too, for the most part. I believe that Picky was separated by the other critters during The Hour of Joy, and ended up with nothing to eat for a long time. She ended up wandering aimlessly throughout the factory and eventually came across the corpses of her dead friends. Saddened, but desperate for food, she ate her friends' corpses as soon as she came along them, but all that effort soon went to waste as she eventually died of starvation, a constant theme throughout Poppy Playtime.

Hoppy Hopscotch

"I'm Hoppy Hopscotch! Wanna try hopping to the moon with me?" "On three with me! One... two... three! ...Heh, didn't get very far, did we?" "Again! One, two, three! Nope... still didn't make it." "Listen! This won't stop until we make it to the moon!" "One, two- No, no! Don't look at your feet! None of that matters! Again! Again!" "JUMP! JUUUU-" Yeah this one just makes me really sad, seeing how I think her death most likely would be accidental suicide. In an attempt to escape CatNap or The Prototype or another toy that was hunting them down for food, or maybe just trying to reach somewhere that lead to an exit, she encouraged her friend(s) to jump towards freedom, but due to her impulsive/impatient tendencies, she didn't think it through and ended up falling to her death.

Bobby Bearhug

"Hi! I'm Bobby Bearhug! Wanna know how much I love you?" "I love you to the moooon and back!" "I'm crazy about you." "I'm lost without you." "I've been lost a long time..." "Please, take me with you this time...!" "You won't leave me, will you??" Bobby loves everyone and everything, unconditionally. So, when The Hour of Joy occurred, she naturally felt terrified and wanted to stick close by with her friends as they tried to find a way out of the factory after that day. This might also be in relation to DogDay and Picky as well. DogDay probably shooed them away in attempt to save them from CatNap, and while the massacre occurred, Picky got lost during all the chaos. Them being her friends, she was greatly distraught by this, but soon forced herself to go along with who was left. That was when she probably witness some of their deaths: Bobby being lured by the Red Smoke and eventually killed, Kicken getting killed by either CatNap or The Protoype, Hoppy falling to her death, being scared away by CraftyCorn (I'll get to her later).

"Take me with you this time!" I believe this line was spawned from DogDay's actions. Since he was the leader of their group, she, along with the other critters, looked up to him. Perhaps Bobby believed if he has taken all of them with him, she wouldn't have ended up all alone. She eventually ended up all alone, turned to madness by loneliness as she always thought about the events that made her friends leave her. After a long time of wandering and losing hope, bit by bit as each day passed, she died of starvation.

CraftyCorn

"H-Hi, I'm CraftyCorn. Will you help me with my painting? Pass me the blue, please!" "Thanks! Now, will you give me some red?" "More red, please!" "Out...? But, w-we can't be out." "You're hiding more red from me... I know you are..." "GIVE IT HERE!" "There, now that's much better!" Despite CraftyCorn's established gentle and caring personality, both would be thrown away for the sake of keeping her creative juices flowing. She always loves everything artistic, so she also most likely uses it as a coping mechanism (and that's also seen in the Smiling Critter's cartoon, where CraftyCorn is drawing on multiple pages while still being scared of the storm outside). I believe she also witnessed some of her friends' deaths along with Bobby Bearhug, and, as her way of coping, she just tries drawing and drawing and painting and painting her worries away. But while her urges to cope may last, drawing materials do not for long, and she eventually runs out. This causes her to turn to panic, as she thinks she'll have to finally face reality that her friends are gone, but she's not ready, so she desperately tires to find more art materials, mostly the color red (because that's the most of what she's been seeing since The Hour of Joy). So, in a blind, maddened dismay, she attacks her friends and uses their blood for painting, piling on unimaginable guilt for hurting her friends, the very thing she was trying not to make herself realize.

Now as for her death. Her remaining friend(s) probably ended up leaving her for the sake of their own safety. She doesn't realize this, because again, she's so deep in her own distractions that she's lost touch with reality, until she finally runs out of red again. She desperately tries to find more, but can't extract any from an outside source. So she uses her own blood as paint. She extracts her blood, runs out, extracts again, runs out again, extracts again, runs out again, over and over until she finally harms herself to the point of dying from blood loss.

DogDay

"DogDay says... fetch!" "Go, go! As far as you can!" "Why are you...just standing there?" "You can't be here. You can't stay..." As I said earlier, DogDay must have helped his friends escape from CatNap's hunting ground and the main killing areas during The Hour of Joy. He realizes that CatNap holds a burning rage for him and his friends for not going along with The Prototypes control, and drives them out somewhere where he thinks they'll be safe. But he then told them that he couldn't go with them, because as the leader of the Smiling Critters, and holding a deep love for his friends, he felt the need to sacrifice himself so they can be safe.

Once they were away, he goes and finds CatNap. Since I believe that DogDay was once a worker for Playtime Co., I don't think he remembers his past. Therefore, he truly believes that he is DogDay, and that the Smiling Critters, including CatNap, have been friends for a lifetime. He believes that his friend is still in there, not seeing the fact that CatNap remembers exactly who he is and how he became this way, including why he worships The Prototype. DogDay tries to convince CatNap to remember all the good times they had (even though, with the Big Bodies version of the cast, CatNap was particularly distant from the rest of the Smiling Critters, since I assume they're also workers). Of course, this doesn't work, and CatNap attempts to kill him.

However, I believe that DogDay had escaped and went to look for his friends once he was at a safe distance. But this is FAR after the events of his friends' deaths, so one by one he comes across his friends' corpses, personally seeing the horrors of after The Hour of Joy "I'm...the last of the Smiling Critters...." (what he says before his own death)

After years of losing so much hope, seeing that none of his friends survived the horrors of the factory, DogDay doesn't see the point in trying to escape. If his friends didn't make it, what was the point? And, during his most vulnerable, this is how CatNap eventually ends up finding him. He gained some sick pleasure into see this heretic suffer, but he felt that he needed more misery, by kidnapping him and torturing him by cutting off his legs and feeding them to the mini critters, and stringing him up in the prison where he's slowly eaten by The Prototype's worshippers.

Still, he holds onto what sanity he has left from his interactions with Poppy (who I believe he ran into while he was wandering the Factory), and believed that an angel will bring them salvation.

. ☀️⭐️🍎💡⚡️🌸❤️☀️⭐️🍎💡⚡️🌸❤️☀️⭐️🍎💡⚡️🌸❤️ .

That's about it! Hope you guys enjoyed!!

~ 💜🌙 ~

#the smiling critters #poppy playtime #poppy playtime chapter 3 #headcanons #poppy #dogday #hoppy hopscotch #catnap #bubba bubbaphant #kicken chicken #craftycorn #bobby bearhug #picky piggy #s-m-i-l-e ev-er-y day! #smiling critters

[brucewaynehater101]

i've been chewing over the tcf!tim au a lot these past few days and this is what my brain came up with: 1. jack and janet aren't really present in tim's life- not out of choice, but out of necessity: see tim had been affected with a curse (similar to that on the tcf protagonist) that made it so that he would eventually lose anything precious to him

2. after they find out, jack and janet decide to physically distance themselves from him (though they can't bring themselves to do so emotionally) while at the same time going on archaelogical trips in hopes to find a way to solve the curse. this way they would hopefully live long enough for tim to be old enough to take care of himself before the curse took them away from him

3. in the meantime, they plopped him in gotham to hopefully slow down / weaken the curse (due to how cursed the city already is, it probably acts like fighting fire with fire or poison with poison, also you can't convince me that as rich as they were they wouldn't have chosen to settle down in any other city if they had other options) and hire a revolving door of nannies (the good ones tim gets attached to often experience unfortunate circumstances that made them have to leave their post, while the bad ones get found out and fired by his parents)

4. tim still gets attached to dick at the circus (and then dick's parents died, and tim lost dick's smile that he liked)

5. tim gets attached to batman and robin -> dick and bruce fight and the og dynamic duo fall apart

6. tim gets attached to jason -> jason gets murdered

7. tim pulls batman out of his spiral and ironically, bruce's prickliness delayed tim getting attached to him, which meant he got to stick around (until he got better, then he ended up being yeeted through time)

8. that whole lead-up to brucequest where he lost a whole bunch of loved ones in quick succession? yeah, the curses of gotham are struggling against his (quantity vs quality)

i just think this idea is neat. and tim's guilt would be growing out of control once he finds out about the curse (why didn't anyone else notice before? because everyone assumed gotham folks are just cursed in general)

it also means he gets a fun (angsty) new motivation to avoid his family post-regression: he doesn't know if the curse is still active and would target them, so he plays the asshole to ward them off so that nothing worse would happen

Well, fuck.

I do love the Good!Parents Jack and Janet in this. It's a bit hard to make Jack or Janet decent parents to Tim while also affording him the independency his character typically has.

The curse is a cool addition to the tcf!Tim au that adds more reason to Tim being an asshole. Him not knowing if he's cursed or not is a great angst plot point, especially because it would be very easy for him to find out. He knows countless magic people that could tell him. Constantine would do it quietly for a quick buck. If Tim continues to not know despite his ability to, that's because he simply didn't want to find out. Dealer's choice on whether that's because he was scared or he wanted an excuse to self-destruct (i.e. cut himself off from his support groups).

The real shitty part about curses that seem like bad luck (or that cause bad luck) is that you can't be sure what is the curse and what is life being shit. Tim will probably blame himself for every horrid thing that has happened to someone after he entered their life.

#dc comics #tim drake #dc universe #thank you for the ask!!!!

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

1, 3, 39 Adamsapple pirate au please 🙏

1. “If you felt want and longing the way I did — the way I still do — I promise you’d be driven fucking mad.”

3. “You really couldn’t have been any more obvious.” “That’s because I didn’t have anything to hide. I was being obvious, because I needed you to know, without a doubt, that I love you.” 

39. “Chasing you is like chasing the rainbow… It’s impossible. You’re always slipping away no matter how fast I run after you.”

Thank you for sending this in! 😁 Please feel free to send more if you'd like! Any au you want. 😎

Adam struggled against the firm grip of the Krakens tentacles that were wrapped around his body keeping him in place. A hand came out and gently plucked his hat from his head and placed it on the ground next to the mountain of treasure that the King of the seven seas surrounded himself with. "Let me go, asshole!" Adam snarled, but he was only brought in closer to the king. The hand that removed his hat caressed his jawline from ear to chin.

Lucifer hummed as he gazed adoringly at his most prized jewel. "Never again my precious gem."

"The only reason I'm here is because you threatened to destroy an entire island full of innocent fucking people. You're crazy!" Adam tried to move again but the grip only got tighter.

Lucifer leaned in closer to Adams face, he gripped his jaw to make the sea captain look him in the eye. "If you felt want and longing the way I did — the way I still do — I promise you’d be driven fucking mad, too." He placed a kiss on Adams nose, he laughed when the captain wrinkled it and was practically cross eyed looking at his own nose. Or at least as much as someone could with only one good eye. "I've waited so long to have you."

Adam scoffed. "After what you did?"

"For the last time, your eye was an accident. Why the fuck would I purposely damage one of the things I love most about you?" Lucifer said feeling like they just kept having the same conversation.

"Right." Adam looked Lucifer over. “You really couldn’t have been any more obvious. Wearing your heart on your sleeve like that."

“That’s because I didn’t have anything to hide. I was being obvious, because I needed you to know, without a doubt, that I love you.” Lucifer pulled Adams back flush to his chest, he started to kiss the humans ear, cheek, jaw and neck. Hands rubbing up and down on his chest. Lucifer smirked when he heard Adam gasp softly, he licked a strip back up to his ear to whisper. "I searched the seven seas high and low for you all these years. Imagine my surprise when I see you working for the Royal Navy."

Adam wiggled against Lucifer, he really hoped that was a dagger poking him in the ass. "I needed a job."

"As my queen you'll never need to work again." Lucifer kissed his cheek. “Chasing you is like chasing the rainbow… It’s impossible. You’re always slipping away no matter how fast I run after you." He got back close to Adams ear. "Now that I've caught you, I'm never letting go."

Lucifer turned Adams head and smashed their lips together, stealing the air from Adam's lungs. He let his magic flow through him into Adam, if he was to rule by his side he would need to breathe underwater. When he pulled away from the kiss he watched as his magic did it's job.

Adam's brown eyes turned to gold, even the injured one was a pale golden color. Gills opened up on his neck, his skin changed from tan to a slightly more blue shade. His hands became webbed, Adam groaned in pain as tentacles of his own grew out of his back golden in color. "The fuck did you do to me!?"

"Made you perfect." And Lucifer kissed him again.

#adamsapple #hazbin hotel adam #lucifer x adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #ask #pirate au

[profounddefendorcrusade-blog]

I feel bad for Starlo. (pt. 9)

Star's the Papyrus (both are idealistic & seen as naive) of this game (Martlet is another possible parallel), even though he's got similarities with Undyne too. No matter how broken Ceroba seemed he asked himself WHY she did what she did and I think that's SUPER important.

Ceroba didn't do this. Her first instinct was to be harsh (after being harsh with him even BEFORE he attacked Clover):

called his personality "damaged" before this scene

... you never asked yourself WHY he did the whole sheriff act.

.... you never asked WHY he didn't want to grow up. If it was a coping mechanism, if he wanted to help his community in a way he couldn't as a farmer? It was never on her mind.

Yes he has baggage but he's dealing with it all while uplifting others, Ceroba has baggage but is well taken care of by Star and at least has him, he has no one but himself and his optimism to pull him out of negative feelings, and still gets insulted.

Yeah Ceroba's been through stuff but apparently it's been some time since Chujin passed and Kanako fell down, she should have at least started to support Star emotionally like he's been supporting her (sure, he did so with distractions, but as he said "aren't distractions what's best for all of that?" He did his best). Problem is she DIDN'T realise he was ever struggling with self worth and only assumed he was goofing off. Either that or she did nothing about it aka was too occupied with her own problems (which are valid but still... she should have tried at least a little) Cer's character flaw is being too stubborn and devoted to Chujin. She trusted him blindly and wholeheartedly. Everything else came in 2nd place. This is clear as day.

It hurts knowing Ceroba could never respect Starlo the way she still does her husband. Not saying she shouldn't admire Chujin, but the way she sees Star as a goofy manchild whose lifelong passion can go "too far," the way she sees all this Wild East stuff as him "just having fun," the way she thinks that only someone whose brain isn't developed would ever consider dating him just... ticks me off, tbh. That's why I think the guy needs someone who will be gentle and patient with him, even if that other person is going through tough times.

She DID call Starlo the best sheriff she's ever known (honestly the only sweet moment between them in pacifist, but it is very brief, especially in neutral where he just gets cut off; also I hope she was being genuine here) and said how everyone adored him (but hated his persona, which I've already covered: basically they either hated 'North Star' as a whole, which I hope isn't true, or just how excited he was to meet Clover, which makes no sense to me; already covered it as well)

Bonus: Dina didn't know who Star really was or what he looked like, not before the end credits rolled (when he shows up as himself & she's also seen there; makes sense that he finally came clean to her):

So he's literally been playing this role 24/7, ever since she became the bartender; ever since this town started to exist. It's impressive how he could keep up an act AND use this fake accent for so long

Bonus #2: Star was SUPER worried about Clover's safety; that's what REALLY upset him (he cares about that child sm). THAT's what drove him off the edge (unless he naturally has a temper, i don't think this is it tho). Either way, he was way more patient w Ceroba than I think most would have been in that situation. Sure he snapped a few times, but there was a good reason to. He still TRIED to reason with her. Why did he attack? Worried for Martlet & Clover. I honestly think Star's the type to only get super angry if someone he loves is in danger (minus the stuff that happened which led him to cracking)

#uty #undertale yellow #starlo uty #uty starlo #ceroba uty #uty ceroba #ceroba ketsukane #anti staroba #dina uty #uty dina #not saying ceroba is a horrible person for not understanding star #every character carries some sort of baggage #just that she doesn't understand him #and that he needs somebody who will #he's an idealist she's a pessimist #pairings like this CAN work #but i dont think that' the case here

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

hi! I've been reading through your blog and you seem to give decent advice, so I figured I'd try my luck at something that's been annoying me recently.

So to start, I'm 17ftm (no testosterone), I have had many mental health struggles on the past 5 years and my parents don't really trust me or take me seriously. And I have never had sex with a penis haver so no possibility of pregnancy at any point.

Okay so my problem is that I never get consistent periods and almost always skip more than a month in between. They actually started pretty consistent when I was 13 but became extremely irregular after I gained a lot of unexpected weight (I was on a high dose of antipsycotics which I believe caused this). I skipped 6 months when I was 14. Since my parents don't take me seriously, they kind of softly assume I'm exaggerating or just not counting the days right ever time I bring it up and it made me so frustrated that last year I finally got a period tracker and committed to filling it out daily. I finally decided to go back and check how long it's been because I felt like it had been forever since I actually bled and uh. Guess what I was right 😬

Since the new year, I logged myself as "spotting" on February 7th and January 22. I marked myself down as "light bleeding" on the 18th. Every other day this year there has been no bleeding. Is this abnormal??? My mom keeps saying things like "I skip months all the time" but it's just really unsettling me I feel like something's wrong. I've also had period-like cramps a few times since the year began and at one point they got really bad, like a 7/10 but again I haven't bled even a little bit except those three days I just want to know I'm not being unreasonable.

I do plan to talk to my doctor, my dad set an appointment for next week (I didn't tell him what it was for & he didn't ask which was nice) but while my GP is usually pretty good I'm worried she'll dismiss me like my mom always does & I'm worried I'll phrase something wrong or not describe things correctly. (I have the kind of autism that gives me psychic damage when people don't understand me hence the multiple paragraphs to explain a fairly simple issue... Sorry about that btw)

Thanks for your time and I hope I wasn't too annoying🪻

hi anon,

irregular periods are pretty typical when you first begin menstruating, but the fact that they haven't leveled out by now could definitely be indicative of some kind of complication in your reproductive system that's definitely best to know about sooner rather than later. I'm sorry your parents have been dismissive of you, but if your GP is generally reasonable I'm sure she'll understand why you're concerned; missing your period for months at a time definitely falls into what's considered irregular and warrants further investigation, and it sounds like you've been documenting your experiences enough to back up that that's the case.

I hope everything goes well and you can find some answers <3

#sex edventures 2024

[oopsiedaisymae]

the audience for this post is like, the two people who have already seen it on discord, but nonetheless, i want to share.

my mc's name is winter. she's pretty straight-laced, logical, generally rule-abiding but will get into trouble if she finds herself lacking a challenge or something to keep her hands busy. on my obey me writing blog (cuz i have a twst one now too!) i have plans to write for her as an mc and ship her with solomon. but i ALSO have plans to write a winter x mc au and. i've been having some really good thoughts on that.

for starters, the general premise is that the exchange program accepted three being from each realm (which makes room for the angel oc i have brewing... 👀) and she's one of human exchange students. she's a self-taught sorcerer that's very much stuck at a beginner level, in part due to the fact that she had no idea all of this magical realm stuff existed before coming to the devildom. she applied for the exchange program in hopes to get more credits for her phd. obviously, she was not prepared for this situation, but she adapts pretty quickly and does well at RAD.

since it's a winter x reader au, winter lives at purgatory hall with the other exchange students. their dynamic is so wonderful to me-- in the house of misfits, she fits right in. she's an amateur writer, so she loves chatting with simeon over tea about novel ideas and eventually becomes a pretty faithful TSL fan. she's an exasperated solomon wrangler who dodges his cooking at every turn and is too prideful to ask the best sorcerer the human world has to offer for help with her magical studies. she's not all that fond of children, yet she finds herself protective of luke, letting down her guard to bake with him in the afternoons for all of their new friends. even raphael, someone she struggles to interact with (bc they're both oh-so-awkward) earbs her respect and affection over time as they're roped into shenanigans by their roommates. they make the dorm a home together.

but you? oh, how she's hopelessly in love with you.

in the chaos of the devildom, somehow her eyes are always drawn to you. she's not all that interested in making friends when she first arrives, dedicating all her energy to settling herself in the realm. but there's always things drawing you to each other. classwork, exchange program responsibilities, your growing camradarie with her roommates at purgaory hall. it's inevitable that you guys become friendly. she's awkward and always a bit stressed or nervous, but she's friendly enough in your interactions early on that you swap numbers about halfway through the year. groupwork turns into occasional text conversations, and eventually you're close enough to gravitate towards each other for a simple conversation at parties. by the time the exchange program ends, you're making promises to make time for each other in the human realm.

life happens. you guys keep up a friendship through texts and video calls. winter finds herself longing for an excuse to be intertwined in your life again. RAD was a rigorous school, but she'd do it all again to have an excuse to be dragged into late night study sessions with you. watching your life change from a small screen fills her with a strange sense of emptiness. when the call ends, do you still think about her?

your return to the devildom is revealed to her through a cheeky text from solomon. she's so incredibly *annoyed.* of course he'd use magic to steal you away and whisk you back to the devildom without her. oh, and simeon and luke are returning, too? lovely. the whole gang's meeting up eithout her. envious? never, she wouldn't stoop so--

she's jealous. obviously. there's some back and forth where he teases her (and makes her ask *politely* for his assistance) until he steps away for a moment to bribg her back to the devildom. finally, you're reunited!

it's in this stretch of time that she falls in love with you. oh, winter barnett, someone who adamantly denies herself pleasure in many forms, finds herself sickeningly subdued as she falls for you. once the realization hits her, it's like a poison has flooded her veins, leaving her in a stupor. she expected herself to be more resistant to the idea, but honestly... who is she to resist your charms? she knows you. she watched all seven of the demon brothers fall for you over the course of a year. it only feels natural to be drawn to you in the same way. you... so determined, so strong, resilent in the face of overwhelming chaos and somehow still standing at the end of it.

winter's a human. she's got a small farm in vermont and very mediocre magic to her name. she's not a famous demon, nor and angel, nor a powerful immortal. on some level, she knows she's not enough for you. maybe that's why she's content to keep her mouth shut for awhile.

maybe it's enough to sit quietly by your side, admiring your when you're not looking. maybe it's best to bide her time and hope that she can catch your eye one day. until then, she's content with the little things-- your smile, your texts, your laugh, the way you look at her from across the classroom and the way she's completely smitten against all odds.

#sorry this is a lot. i have so many thoughts about her #obey me #obey me x reader #obey me oc #obey me oc x reader #obey me oc: winter barnett #daisy talks

[starlightsuncrow]

Finally have a free momence, I was curious what your Starfall is generally about, and how it compares to your GW2 alt universe! And any character differences as well, since you mentioned a few different alts (sorry if you’ve explained this in a post before !)

- @magitechbatt

omg,,,, you want to know about Starfall? Buckle in!! It's gonna be long. I've never got the chance to explain so thank you!! Starfall is an original setting @cheddargoblin and I created, the story's premise is: "Long ago a star fell, and changed the world forever both physically and magically and even in it's current day societies across the world struggle to re-find their place in a world grown more wild and hostile around them."

Medieval-ish fantasy with themes of freedom, change, healing and bonds, a good story about found family and overcoming entirely different kinds of bias and classism.

Gw2 has some shared themes and the setting isn't too far off ! Starfall is darker,cruel though. One big difference tho is Starfall happens mainly in snowy regions! Now onto the characters!

I'll speak about my main two, since the rest are still a big WIP.

In Starfall Crow is an ex-mage hunter who escaped the Guild ( main place where hunters are trained and also big anti mage propaganda between all the things, even if they are mages themselves). In escaping he's constantly hunted, due to being an important figure and...a big weapon that was trained specifically for "purposes" by his mentor. The black arms are tattoos ! Cruel symbol of how many mages you captured/killed and so on. Has to learn to fight his own life of bias and brainwashing to live "outside". He's like a caged dog who finally tasted freedom and will fight for it to death if needed. Closed off with MANY issues, they haven't lost a small spark of naivety and hope though. Big part of the character is the revelation they're a fae ! No, they didn't know it. It's complicated. Hehe's also a "cursed" fae, courtesy of the mentor again. Describing the cursed fae as magical beings who have to survive on blood and magic, since they're made of magic. Without feeding they end being feral beasts who won't ever go back to being sane. They go through addiction and withdrawl usually. He's a fighter and adapts easily, someone give him a break please. He's the struggler but keeps going , a love for freedom keeps him going. Crow in Gw2 is a saltspray who fled from the Jade Wind, searching for a cure or something to help back home. After centuries of disguises he fell into the end of the Inquest and got basically " cursed". Vampirism about blood and magic, for a being like a lesser dragon it's...not fun i'd presume. Got saved by Dragora, lived and learned under Drago's wing and then joined the commander's gang in s2. Revealed their true identity much later during EoD<<< caused some drama. They're Starfall's Crow without the harsh environment they lived in, in gw2 he got a taste of it but not enough to compromise his whole life. Marked by it but doesn't let it control them. He's an exploration of who Crow would have been if he escaped sooner from the Guild.

So both keep that duality of self, same coin, just a little to the side in gw2. Neither of them are too different. Fun story about Cardamomo, he comes from gw2 actually! He's my commander and that's part of his core personality. Never make me think of jokes with characters and pairings because 90% of times they end up happening <<< Cromo happened this way. In Gw2 he's the sylvari commander, a naive and full of wonders sylvari who learnt fast war changes you. Forever.

Cute guy who sees the horrors and comes back angry, frustrated and not much hope and will to fight again, but that's all he knows how to do after all. That's why Gyala and part of Soto hit hard. They're tired, they don't know how to rest. Big trust issues? Or more about they can't let be seen weak and vulnereable. The important thing to know about Momo is that he wasn't Cardamomo at first. He starts as Caoimhe until the Departing. He dies, he comes back. He comes back different. I love the mirror theme so much he IS a mirror. A broken one. Caoimhe died, Cardamomo came back with less memories, some gone forever and a personality made to withstand the trauma just to fight Balthazar. Oops, Caoimhe took too much time to recover and now this commander has two pilots. They're the same guy still! Momo isn't a new different identity, he's more of...some aspects put together to give time to heal. Similar personalities to the point there's no much difference unless you know what to look for ( they have a slightly different behavior and manner of speech). It's like a fragment who learnt to be its own thing, while still following the main purpose of protector.

It's a toughie to describe I'll be honest, if I can finish that fanfic i'm writing maybe it helps understanding it (or i can simply ramble on another post <3) In Gw2 he's a dryad, beings born with a specific purpose ( in this case it's about balance). I'm still working on many details but he keeps the commmander "role" so to speak and absolutely gains the Caoimhe/Cardamomo duality again. Loss is part of his character in many ways too eheh. He's a bit more off putting and warms a bit slower than his gw2 alt though! Playing more on the fact this guy isn't human at all. I've been trying to keep both my ocs' cores for both settings with some modifications but more or less the alts end up being "what ifs" and explorations of a part of the main character that can't be explored easily in the main setting. They aren't as different as I make them sound probably.

Fun fact, dryads and fae are rivals, this didn't stop Cromo happening( one half didn't know, the other didn't care). The main alt i can explain is Dragonheart for Momo! Selkastra ( saltspray is just an appereance change and plays more on Crow being young but still... a dragon) Dragonheart is Momo's champion self? so to speak? That one transformation in EoD but what if we can access to it under circumstances and what if it follows the different aspects too? Otherwordly momo <3 Each aspect affects Momo differently and he acts as consequence too. Physically and mentally. If Aurene is the Prism Dragon, Cardamomo is the prism itself reflecting, each side something different. There's Fae Crow to explain too, but nothing too big changes apart from making him extremely ethereal and fey-like. Not to be mess with, fae are known to bend rules and twist them to their like. Even tho Starfall Fae are...a bit particular. I hope these are enough to answer your questions, which im so so happy u asked!! (it got so long he l p) I'm terrible at summaries but this made my whole day, thank you so much again !! <333

#2000starfall #<<< for summary #sunbat i want u to imagine the biggest hug u can receive bc thats what im doing atm to you tysm for asking and being interested :D

[troublcmakcrs]

//we're getting places "you're not getting anywh-" WE'RE GETTING PLACES!!!!!!

#vis :: ( craig ) #ver :: college ( craig ) #mun art #//i've been struggling with him for so long #//and it's bc i wrote myself into a corner on one thread. to say that craig basically hasn't changed hairstyles in like 10 years #//and then eli was like ehhh give him some hair gel #//which i was terrified if doing bc... again... my former hc that said craig did NOTHING with his hair #//BUT I'M SO GLAD I DID IT... IT WAS ONLY ONE THREAD... IT CAN AND SHOULD BE RETCONNED #//the first one was heavily referenced off a picture of jonathan togo #//he's not a perfect 1-to-1 for craig but i like his head shape and slightly droopy eyes #//he's a lil dweeby lookin but still cute 💕 #//and the other two were my attempts at loosening him up a bit #//trying to push him towards my cartoonier style so he better matches with tweek #//it is so easy to go BALLS TO THE WALLS with exaggerating tweek's features #//one of my favorite tweek drawings is the final girl comic where their eyes take up like 75% of their face lmfao #//craig is DECEPTIVELY hard to draw bc he is by all accounts Just Some Fucking Guy #//i'm so annoyed bc i cannot draw his hair at the angle that best accentuates his scars #//but whatever we'll suffer thru it every time; labor of love 💖 #//accepting that i'm gonna have to suck at drawing craig until i start being really good at drawing craig JDKAJSKAJ #//craig with half his face torn up: no dude i'm good; i've never suffered anything in my life #//i gotta draw him and tweek together; that would help with getting them stylistically consistent #//i also have got to draw craig looking more pissed off wtf is he so happy for? >:(

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Why would you—That's not—I just wanted to ask for help, why did you have to go and make it awkward???

[First] Prev <–-> Next

#poorly drawn mdzs #mdzs #wei wuxian #xue yang #Its such a relief to not have to draw so many characters once again. #Redrawing the specific font from the English translated mdzs books was surprisingly fun! #Maybe I'm alone in this...but I think characters switching to a different font of speech for *emphasis* is peak comedy #you can't communicate voice changes of sound very well in non audio forms so this is the best I can do. #Anyways...rip Xue Yang. You finally meet your idol and he brushes you off #Rather— he doesn't live up to the expectations you built in your head #Kind of an on going issue there Jester (I refuse to call him king or sir) #XY is constantly making people out to be the versions he needed them to be to feel justified in his actions #but struggles to pivot when confronted with the fact that these ppl are *more* than just one surface reading! #wwx doesn't actually think xy is flirting. He's just tired of all the fake fans + wants to get out of this convo. #button mashing the A button to skip the unskippable cutscene #Lan Wangji is in the next comic btw. I've missed him dearly. I'm sorry he's been gone so long </3 #edit: poorly spelt MDZS strikes again. This is why I need more time to write my comics. So I can actually proofread B*( #edit2: I cast 'Power of Technology' and fixed my error. Everyone reblog this version instead please

[enhanced-operatives-division]

Junicrane/Starstruck Ramble

I will not be brief, all under the cut

To clear some things right off the bat:

No corpse, no proof with Juniper. Obligatory this is set in a canon where he's alive and adjacent to the agency in some way.

Reggie & Juniper are just gay to me, but I don't mind any interpretation of their sexuality

The games are set in 1967/68 to me (based on a couple bits in game) which is before it was legal to be gay in America at least (1971), which is relevant to how I interpret canon as being somewhat grounded in reality, despite unrealistic elements.

This is just an insane amount of headcanons/elements of and AU all culminated into one post. I will talk about some headcanons like they're just facts because they are established in my head, and it saves me over explaining literally everything, however I will explain some parts a little bit for clarity.

Alright. Actual beginning of the ramble:

Juniper is a character to me who had gotten so lost in his job as an actor and a social presence that in the end his whole life revolved around that 'role'. Because of this, by the time he's put into the situation where he's around the Agency, he basically knows nothing about himself, though he doesn't realise at first. Furthermore, what little identity he had has changed in so many ways. He's no longer a beloved famous actor in the prominence of public light, he's legally dead and he tarnished his career just before he was supposed to die, with the bonus of that making him lose the majority of his estate. From that, he also has horrific facial scarring from the electrical burns from literally having his face fried. I believe a friend of mine made a post about this a while ago (I also think they were the first to think it up also), but, to me, Juniper has a permanent trimmer in his right arm (aka his dominant hand) from the electrical current and it is messing with his nervous system.

All in all, he's not doing great, but he's too proud to admit that he's not doing great, because if anything, what's left of his ego is all he has as a defense since he's deep in unfamiliar water.

Before ending up around the agency (I have multiple interpretations of this, so I'm just going to bring it up generally), he'd never actually seen Reggie, and his only impression of him is a single voicemail, which was his only reference he had to later impersonate him. Juniper probably has very little feelings other than the ones he projects onto him because of Phoenix and that, at the very least, he's physically attracted to Reggie to some degree (that's like the beginning of how everything else would tumble into place in this sort of interpretation at least).

And on Crane's side? His feelings towards Juniper are probably very intense and muddled. On the one hand, he adores musical theatre, and that's his now ex-favourite actor. The thought of just casually being around him blows the bit of fanboy in him away at first because THAT'S the GUY, plus the inklings of a celebrity crush which still poke at him. And then there's the rational side of him, which knows Juniper has committed absolute atrocities on the side of Zoraxis, and hates him for that. Then there's how much Juniper comes off as an asshole at first because he refuses to cooperate with anything the Agency tried to put in place. He finds Juniper endlessly frustrating, and yet he's stuck working with him since, afterall, he's the one who knows the Agency's history with Juniper the best. I imagine him acting a lot like how he does IEYTD 1 around Juniper.

At this point, I'm just describing the pitch for a romcom.

I think the start of their relationship with one another largely started with Juniper trying to wind Crane up. It was a way of getting his attention, and I don't think Juniper knows why he's so dead set on that at first, because I don't think he realises he has a crush on 'this grump' at first. (I think that's actually the fun part about these two, because it's almost like a role reversal of the celebrity crush dynamic. This ex-big name actor has a TERRIBLE crush on an average joe and it is KILLING HIM.) But of course the Agency keeps them together because Juniper is at least conversing with Crane, so it's a start.

Through one way or another, they actually get talking casually, at least mildly at first. It takes Juniper a long time to fully deconstruct the wall he's built, and the thing is, Crane isn't the one trying to deconstruct it, at least at first, because yeah, Juniper realises if he wants Reggie to actually like him in any way, he can't keep winding him up. So they talk. Small talk at first, something rhythmic and almost easy to keep to a script. And over time that turns into actual conversations. Genuine ones in which Reggie rips out the occasional one of his jokes which Juniper is endlessly endeared about. The way he smiles just before he makes them, like he wants to chuckle at what he's about to say before he says it. That's probably when Juniper realised that he does have some vague crush on him, and that it wasn't going away.

This is what kickstarts John I can't-buy-you-things-to-impress-you-so-acts-of-service-it-is Juniper to do little things for him. It mostly starts off as him trying to make Reggie his tea how he likes it. However, the nerve damage in his arm makes that hard, as the weight of the kettle and trying to pour is hard all of a sudden. And he refuses to accept that, so he tries for a very long while. Long enough that Crane would go to investigate what was going on. And when he does see Juniper leaning over a cup with the kettle as he uneasily tries to pour it, and when Crane asks Juniper responds so matter-of-fact that his intention is nothing but genuine. And it catches Reggie off guard because Juniper hadn't done anything like that up to that point, and his very apparent vulnerability is so clearly on show.

It shifts something between them.

From that point on, conversations are longer, more familiar. Both of their attitudes soften, and Reggie makes more jokes. Juniper learns how to better use his left hand while strengthening his right back to a point where it could be used again. Slowly, they're both spending time with one another not because they have to, but just because they can. Little bits at first, not too far outside what they already were doing, but those little bits turned into long bits to a point where the other person's company was genuinely desirable.

As time passes, Juniper probably realises that he doesn't genuinely know much about himself or what hobbies he's into, because he never really had the time when he got big, and his home life in his youth wasn't bad, but it wasn't picturesque. I think Reggie would pick up on it, and absolutely try to introduce him to some things he's into. Some things stick, other things don't (corn husking very much stays Reggie's passion, and John will go with him sometimes because it's him, but it's not something he strongly cares for). Crane introduces him to a lot of music, and it's something that becomes a staple between them, with tracks they listen to more than others (tragically, I know relatively little about 60s music so I couldn't really say what). Occasionally they dance, never anything intense, think slow dancing, but the closeness is nice.

Through all of it, Juniper is battling the worst crush of his life, and he can't stand it, because I think he struggles to read people since he doesn't have anything like a script or a director to refer back to, so he has no idea if Reggie likes him back or if he's just desperate for that to be true. I think because of that any sort of confession between them would be incredibly raw, not only because of the time they live in making it hard for them to be truthful about how they love, but because it's a complete show of Juniper who's worked to be this better person. I don't exactly know how that would go, mainly because I don't have one set version of their dynamic, this post is just a generalisation of main consistent points.

Reggie does like him back, because he's gotten used to Juniper being just this guy, not a figure in the public eye, not a Zoraxis lackey, and not any sort of Agency operative (despite being under their care to some degree). He's someone he genuinely cares for, because they've given one another the time of day to learn one another, and I think because Reggie was a field agent, he was a lot better at reading Juniper than Juniper was at reading him. Eventually Juniper's company becomes something he could see around him for the rest of his life, and I think he accepts that he likes Juniper a lot more gracefully.

I think any affection directed at Juniper would at first be met with him feeling a little muddled. Reggie was a very physically affectionate person when he could be, and sure the initial flirting with one another came with the occasional little touches, but everything now was so deeply intentional. I also don't think Juniper would almost ever get over the novelty of being able to kiss him, or many other gestures, because it made the fact that they were together so very real, and it was great. I do think it comes easier to Reggie, and it's a big way of showing how much he cares, so it's important for Juniper to try and show it back because he knows how much it means to the other.

I like the idea of them eventually living with one another, too. I think Juniper would have always had a quiet little daydream of sorts where he does just live a domestic quiet life, and he can with Reggie (well, as close as they can get between the Agency and Zoraxis always being at odds), and he loves that, and he loves him, and it's immense.

I think they cook for one another a lot, it helps Juniper work on his dexterity in a controlled environment, which means a lot because it's a huge point of insecurity (that and his scars). He does improve, and Crane is proud of that and shows it and it's great. I also think they'd probably cook together too, because they can deal with being in the kitchen together and they work well with one another. It's probably a good way for them to unwind because over time they can do it in relative silence.

As I said before, I also think music is a staple in their household, and that Reggie listens to things on vinyl almost all of the time because he likes the background noise. Sometimes Juniper will catch him chuntering along to the music which he finds endlessly endearing. I wouldn't put it past his dramatic ass to also join in to fluster Reggie, but I also don't think Reggie would mind that terribly because Juniper has listened to the music enough to know the lyrics, and that's huge to him.

I don't think they are without rough patches, no relationship is, but I think the good part about them is that they're willing to talk about it (... eventually). They're used to long conversations, and while they're often less fun conversations, they're needed and they know that, and it works out.

Alright. I think I'm done for now. I haven't mentioned everything, but this definitely got the worst of it out of my system. If you ever want to hear any specific thoughts my ask box is open but other than that, behold my general dynamic for these two which has been festering in my head for years. I think they're great

#ty right-agent for explicitly telling me that this would be welcomed you a real one #i had a massive babble to my friend abt what if they all feed me to the hounds for speaking #and he said “girl that fandom is like 12 people big they need you to speak” and yeah that also helped #i have a hard time talking if I'm not asked/prompted to that's why i adding tags is great for me. that and i like the format #anyways. #THESE TWO.............dear lord can you tell I have been unwell abt them forever.. #this is propeganda (/j) for them. btw. please you have to understand the potential here. it's so good. #it's slowburn <- my (probably) demiromantic ass cannot handle romance without a build up and this set up is perfect (it will never happen) #also i find it easier to write ANYTHING between these two from Juniper's perspective because i find it easier to get into his head #idk reggie is like the gay version of the: what is he thinking of? i could take a bear in a fight. audio ive heard. #whereas with juniper i have him trapped under a microscope #im going to tag this now so i can use the remaining tags to RANT #ieytd #john juniper #reginald crane #junicrane #starstruck #i expect you to die #<- being BRAVE!!! #when I get really excited i start getting like this internal shaking feeling and uh. yeah this rant started that #the worst part abt that is it also triggers my tourettes so like. double whammy. excited about blorbos? jail :( #but. yeah I uh. yeah. sorry this IS so long..I did warn but . AUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAHHHHHHHHHAUUUUUUAHHHHHHHHHHHHH #also i did this rant in 2 parts. last night and this morning so yeah uh. yeah. #god im so messed up about these two #make me a boat by the family crest came on while wroting this and while it's mainly a roxanix song to me......AUUUUUG..... #i struggle to find music for these sillies because they have such a specific vibe to me amd I've not quite managed to find something which - #- genuinely feels correct for them and it drives me up the WALL #GOD NIGHT SHIFT JUST CAME OF SHUFFL.....all my ieytd songs are coming out to drive me up the wall....... #FINISHED I've been adding tags as I've gone alonga #thank you for reading hope you enoyed and if you didn't im sorry

[absolutely-zero-regrets]

Can you draw Clark as a cashier at woofmart (beast pack version of Walmart)?

He has not yet succumbed to the horrors of retail work

#Thank you for the request!! #Sorry it's been so long! I've actually had this finished for a while; I never got around to posting it due to various factors... #...one of which being me realizing 'ooh wait what if I gave him a little uniform as a last-minute touch' - #- and then struggling with making said uniform actually look good with what little space I had and ending up putting it wayyy off #And THEN there were the technical troubles... but it's all good now! 😂 So here you go!! #awoofy #clark awoofy #oc stuff #kirby #kirby oc #bronto burt #They're there I guess! #zero draws