#and clashes with his green clothes

[nouearth]

a sticky situation.

peter parker x male reader.

summary: peter has a major crush on his roommate: you. everything unravels when he walks in on you changing.

wc: 4.1k. genre: smut. warnings: holland!peter, sub!top peter, voyeur!peter, college!au, dry-humping, grinding, frotting, handjobs, kissing, peter's first time, dubcon, cumplay, peter and reader are shooters, characters are aged up!

a bite of the cold air shuddered your damp and nude body once you stepped out of the bathroom, cataloguing the tidiness of your shared bedroom after. your shoulders tensed when the heated air and cold draft clashed for an estate of your body. but by the way your muscles eased into the green towel around your waist, you’ve figured which side won the war. a warm cheer to victory buzzed in your head.

god, did i luck out with peter… 

you found yourself repeating that observation often these days. it’s only been two months into the semester, but you’ve already concluded that peter was leagues better than your previous roommate. though, the bar was low—he was kind of a homophobe. that guy was a walking proof of evidence that opposites, in fact, do not attract.

on the other hand, peter had proven that similar interests and personalities were the foundation of beautiful, growing relationships: both platonically and romantically. still, relationships were never that black and white—a grey area. a theory that will forever be tested on, only for the outcome to come out vaguer than before, you’ve realized.

peter was like you: friendly, smart, awkward at times, funny to some. you and him basically have the same qualities of a dog, but there was more to it. 

you both shared the same liking down to the genre of video games, the magic of fantasy novels, the cleanliness of a room, the color-coded organization of study notes, and more. 

from there, the similar line of characteristics began to blur. whereas you’d prefer to learn from experience, peter liked playing by the book—sticking to it if he could. peter liked red, you liked blue. he favored savory snacks, you devoured them, but preferred sweet drinks.

opposites attract—the theory was once again, broad in your honor.

difference and similarities aside, you were lucky to have peter in your life. the bedroom was colder before you went to shower, but now it blossomed with a gentle heat.

he knew you hated the cold after a warm shower.

taking the other towel, you dried off the rest of your body while you checked your phone for notifications: a missed call from a friend and a few emails regarding construction around the building you had your classes in.

seriously? still? it’s been almost a year already…

normally, you wouldn’t have walked into the bedroom like this, baring skin and all. but peter went to get food because you both have become familiarized with what they served as food at parties.

note to self: you cannot get full off alcoholic beverages. you and peter both tried two parties ago, and it ended with you two sharing the toilet bowl, detoxing your insides of that liquid poison the entire night. the only enjoyment that resulted from that night was learning that peter was a drunk-crier, and you, a drunk-dancer. your friendship had only leveled up since.

you slid on your white briefs once you dried off before shuffling to the other side of the room, browsing through your shared closet aimlessly: he took the left side, you took the right. it was always dim at those parties, so a nice outfit would be wasted. also, you somehow became a magnet for other people’s misfortunes. it took hours to get rid of the smell of this one girl’s vomit—you threw it out in the end. 

“no, no… it’s going to be cold later…” you cycled through your clothes again, sighing when nothing caught your eye. “guess i can wear this aga-“

“hey!” out of nowhere, peter’s voice sprung out from the side of the room, followed by a quiet thud, and you twisted your bare body towards the source out of fright.

“jesus, you scared me.” the closet door blocked your view of peter, and vice versa, but you presumed he was leaning against the frame—a habit you noted. “i didn’t even hear you come back.”

“sorry- what was i saying..? oh!” his shadow loomed between you and him, growing as he stepped closer to the closet. “did you want to eat now or-“

judging from the volume of his voice, you should’ve expected how close peter was when you shut the closet. “fuck!” you jumped back, eyes widening when he was practically chest to chest with you. “dude, you really gotta stop doing that.”

on a daily basis, you always looked up at him, but you never paid it much thought to how much taller he was. 

“sorry! guess everyone’s a little antsy with the- oh.” he paused.

“what?” you curiously looked up at him, catching sight of his wandering gaze. you were quick enough to follow it, flickering between glimpses of your bare body and face several times like a tennis ball. somehow, you didn’t puzzle the pieces between his shock and your curiosity until he backed away, skittish in nature.

you were in your underwear. still in your underwear. the barrier was the captor of your embarrassment, heat rosed your cheeks as you stood frozen. and with it, the barrier was also your savior.

 “oh- OH!” the size of your eyes matched his and upon realizing he’s been staring for far too long, peter cowered his gaze to the side, a gentlemanly hand blocking his sight as he further backed to the door frame, then blindly bumped his shoulder into the door. “i’m so sorry-“ 

“no, no! i should’ve knocked. i-“ he groaned out, pacifying the sting to his shoulder with his palm. “that was stupid of me, i’m gonna-“

that was another similarity that you both valued: privacy. 

before you could reply, he scattered off. for a moment, you felt hot in the face, in the neck, even on your chest. but it would only take a few more seconds for your skin to cool, comforted by the fact that you could’ve shown more—you didn’t.

when peter scrambled out of the room, his gaze fixated on the ground, to the stripes of his socks as they shuffled to the kitchen. 

but he never made it very far, because he was easily persuaded. either by his hormones, by the shape of your body, or by his closeted feelings about you. in the end, it didn’t matter because a tightening feeling conjured him back to his original spot—it was always going to be about you. 

he was silent in his footsteps, treading backwards to the bedroom as his throat ran dry—heartbeat equally.

tonight. i should do it tonight. are my feelings that obvious? god, i hope not. wait, no- they are! they gotta be… who the fuck wipes marshmallow off of your roommate’s lips and calls them cute?!

peter does.

as his thoughts ran rampant, clouded his regularly murky mind, you were in his line of sight, perfectly captured in the middle of his gaze—now stilled—awe-strucked while he watched you change. 

quick portraits of your thick thighs and calves came and went before they were completely masked by the slide of your shorts. then your stomach and chest; pliant, moist skin that layered over the contours of your body before being covered by a tee. he exhaled, then inhaled, smelling the scent of your shampoo and body wash, and he was delighted because you own that scent.

enraptured because only peter could have his senses triggered by you on a daily basis.

if peter could frame this moment, it would be an expensive endeavor that would sacrifice all the money in the world to find the most perfect materials that complemented your textured skin. your smooth body. your handsome face. 

you. that was all he wanted. 

peter had been trapped since the day he saw you unpacking your things into the dorm. sweaty from the sun, and you knew that, because you refused to shake hands with him until you insisted on washing up first. he wished you never did—your thighs looked better sweating under those shorts.

he’s had crushes before. one in middle school, three in high school. but they amounted to nothing, he never had the confidence. rather, he preferred isolating himself and admiring from afar. rejections had already been predicted, and he was used to the feeling of defeat. if someone were to accept his advances one day, then that would lead to a disruption of events—a catastrophic end to humanity—he joked.

you were different to peter. he loved how, for once, he didn’t have to be the one initiating conversation. he also loved how you didn’t use him for answers because instead, you would help him out with his assignments.

oh, is that professor warren’s class? I think i still have the textbook for her class… let me look. 

even when it would only take five minutes to grab a drink down the street, you still invited him. not out of pity like everybody once did, but because he was your friend. parties have never been your thing, but you accompanied them with him because it made him feel better—to know someone.

maybe since he’s grown more mature since then, but now that he was off on his own, it was up to him to predict his future. it was an advice you gave him one night, and he’s kept that close to his heart since then.  not the hate that had inflicted his mind, not his peers telling he wasn’t good enough for someone—but him.  

in his imaginary world, peter could feel the walls shake when he was around you. the buildings would then fall apart, the earth would scorch civilians and planetary life with heat, and the thundering rain would only make it worse. it was a morbid image. yet, if it meant that you truly liked him, then…

aliens, come do your thing. we insist upon an invasion!

peter wanted you. point, blank, period. it wasn’t his preferred way to confess, but intense sentiments of like, love, lust—all at the same time—ate him up on the inside, and he was scared of being devoid of feelings for you.

“i want… you,” peter muttered, and you jolted again, turning back around in case you misheard him. you were bewildered at the sight of him. once again, you didn’t hear his footsteps.

“what?” you shuffled nervously on your feet. the tension in the air was thick and hot now with the way he stared back at you, frightened yet assured.

“i want you.” there was credence in peter’s tone, and he neared to the door now. 

your eyes narrowed into the deep abyss of peter’s eyes as you sat on the foot of your bed, putting on socks. somewhere in your endeavors, you found a flicker of that familiar joke. “ha. ha. very funny,” you muttered bitterly.

it haunted you. as soon as you came out, you were taunted by those same exact words by your ‘friends,’ by your previous roommate. what made you different from them became a simple reason to cease empathy and kindness, and you were baffled that this was happening again.

maybe peter was like the others after all.

you avoided peter’s gaze in favor of the floor, the legs of your desk, your rug—anywhere but him—and you could feel the color drain out of your face, out of this room—deja vu. “look, i know it’s funny to you because i like guys and for whatever reason, straight guys like to flirt with gay men to get a reaction out of us,” 

the rug cushioned the weight of a familiar pair of feet, and you looked up, a great frown etched in your face when your eyes met peter’s. he towered over you, bewildered. “but it makes me uncomfortable. and it’s not funny to-“

he didn’t know what roused him. the pain in your voice made him want to apologize without any resort to excuses. the pout on your lips made him want to cradle your head, yet kiss you at the same time. the growing tent in his pants made him want to pin you to your bed, and simply ravish you.

it was all a blur. 

his impulsive thoughts became a reality once he stole the remaining words left in your distress, and clumsily swallowed them with a kiss. you didn’t have time to process his lips on yours because you were then pushed onto your back, stilted and surprised, as peter applied his weight on top of yours—his broader build shadowed you in welfare.

“pete-“ you groaned into the hot, breathy kiss, and despite the light attempts to push him away, you were compelled to return the wet exchange. breathlessly, you repeated, “stop, this isn’t funny-“ he kissed you again. all this time, you could’ve had him, but you deluded yourself into thinking otherwise. 

“i’m not laughing,” peter muttered, and his hips began moving into yours, aimlessly trying to alleviate the stiffness in his pants. “i want you.” his voice lowered—no longer a confession, but a demand. he rocked into you harder once he felt you throb under those tight short, and you slipped out a moan, memorizing the beat of peter that pulsated against you.

you remembered him being bashful when you two talked about your firsts. you weren’t completely inexperienced like he was, but you mentioned that it’s been a while since you’ve done anything remotely intimate. school was your focus, a relationship was your reward.

“peter,” you repeated again, he wasn’t listening. “peter.” he whispered a demand; to keep calling his name, and you couldn’t help but quietly chuckle at the cliché line often heard in soft porn.

then, you cupped your hands around his temples to pull him away. he gazed into you with ardent hunger, almost annoyed that you ruined the trail of kisses he began leaving on your neck. “did you drink without me? because if you did, then i don’t think we should-“

“i didn’t,” he sobered on the softness of your lips, and like a flip switch, he snapped out of his fictional world of you. “fuck- i’m so sorry, i didn’t even ask you if you wanted to- fuck, i even forgot to say that i like you.” he ranted to himself, beginning to pull himself away. “this was not how it was supposed to go.”

infatuation had expanded into something beyond your control, and your feelings for him ignited even more. a wick bursted into powerful flames, and it warmed your body knowing that you two shared the same sentiment.

before he completely peeled himself off your body, you pulled him down by the neck, then pressed your nose to his, grinning. “I like you too.” a peck to the tip of his nose, then the center of his lips. your onslaught of fleeting kisses to his skin drowned him, pacifying every muscle in his body until it became jelly, and also making it all the more easier to roll him under you. 

“not exactly how i imagined my first date with you, but,” you straddled his lap, roaming your hands around peter’s chest, an asset of his you’ve frequently daydreamed about. “you sure?”

the applied pressures to your waist, then bottom should’ve been a definite measure of his answer, but he smiled up at you, guiding a steady pace of your hips to his groin. he was easily distracted, suddenly cascading his other palm up your shirt then down to finally feel the bare skin he had spent long showers jerking off to. fantasies had now been served onto a platter before him, and peter planned on devouring you, piece by piece. “please.”

“must have had a lot on your mind if you couldn’t even confess to me.” it was unusual to see him like this—absolutely enthralled by your presence, high off of it. aching for more of you with the way he pushed his groin into you. “how long have you been thinking about this?” being unusual always had negative connotations to it. 

you pressed into him harder, rubbing at his print with gallant grinds. not in this moment. 

he moaned, “far too long…” then fumbled with the waistband of your shorts before doing the same with the zipper. “you’ve been driving me crazy, especially these days.” it was a simple task, a daily labor that peter was great at, but his hands shook when his finger met metal. you chuckled, and placed a comforting hand to his cheek, stroking the soft skin with the amplest caress. 

take your time. i’m not going anywhere.

“mind sharing what you thought about then?” the only time you peel yourself away from peter’s groin was to help him slide your shorts off, then his jeans. peter lifted his hips, and you two were joined together again. aching together. “just curious.” you joked by pulsating your bulge, and he shyly laughed when he saw the restrictive twitch. 

felt it.

“well... where do i start?” peter’s warm hand rested on your inner thigh, dangerously close to your erection while delicately exploring your soft skin. “there’s been so many times where i just wanted to…” he was too ashamed to finish his sentence, looking away.

“wanted to…?” your body arced over his, placing a persuading kiss to his cheek, then neck. “what was it?” they lingered, sunk deep into his skin with the utmost affection, and he left the deepest, pleasurable sighs as if you withdrew it from him. you commenced his dilemma. “tell me what you thought when you first saw me. saw that i was your roommate.”

 “i...” peter began, and you could tell his nerves got the best of him, so you rocked into him again, begged with your hips. the position made it easier to feel all of him, press into his warmth more, and you couldn’t stop. wouldn’t. “i didn’t know what to feel. i was happy, that i had someone as kind as you…” you gleefully hummed, agreeing as you continued leaving kisses to his neck.

“then i was nervous, because you were so… cute. handsome. beautiful.” he moaned when you began to grind in slow, deep strides. your bulges squeezed and pushed one another, peter did the same, growing impossibly bigger against you. “but when i saw you in those shorts, sweating because move-in day was always on a hot day…”

“yeah?” you beckoned him to finish his sentence because you were closing your eyes now, remembering that very moment because you felt the same. the way peter’s chest, his muscles, were broad and stunning under his own layer of sweat, under his loose shirt, under that naivety that you would never have dreamed to think of him as such a…

“i just wanted to fuck you.”

pervert.

the shy smile he gave you messed with your perception of him. clearly, you’ve underestimated him all this time, and you kissed him again. “so, you only thought about pleasuring yourself.”

he quickly broke the kiss to defend himself. “wait, no! t-that’s not what i meant.”

“peter, relax.” your laugh calmly settled into a comforting smile, and you blindly reached down to his thick print, feeling and squeezing at whatever you can because you were desperate to explore him. “i’m joking.” his chest rose.

for the remainder of time, you spent it stroking peter through his underwear. dryly to his frustration, but he never told you because he wanted to experience you in every way. his lips never left yours, only parted to moan into your mouth when you shoved your hand into his briefs to sate your desire to feel him bare.

peter was big in your small hand. the weight felt suffocating to your palm when you grabbed ahold of his sack, fondling his balls, then stroking his cock again, and you were intoxicated in the way he melted under you, looked into you, begged for you to go faster. 

you did. who wouldn’t when he gazed at you with the most puppy-like eyes?

he had complete control of you now, because every action, every stroke, from then on had been a journey to his personal paradise. you didn’t care that you were left abandoned, that you were aching harder than he was. watching him was more than adequate.

both pairs of briefs and shirts have been tossed to the side now, and you maintained your straddle. it was riveting to watch how much bigger peter was when you took both of your cocks together and stroked. he practically enveloped you with the weight of his length, the girth of his shaft, and you wallowed in the fact that he was incredibly bashful about it. 

peter’s hand never left your body. he charmed you by his neediness. it was clumsy in execution, but he always squeezed a moan out of you with he felt your ass, your chest, your nipples, your thighs. “fuck, pete.”

everything about you was beautiful, incredibly more so when you caved into him as he dealt kisses to your bare skin and took his own turn at jerking the both of you off.

he was eager. delirious. hard, stiffening hard, against you, and you felt every vein pulsate the harder— the faster—he squeezed and stroked. you leaned back, hands planted to the mattress beneath you, then maneuvered your hips to the rhythm of his fist. you found a pace while peter kept you steady, and fucked into his fist, against his wet cock, sliming your dripping pre-cum together with the utmost fervor. 

“wait, (m/n),” he hiccuped, and his hold on you tightened, nails dug into your left waist but you ignored his plea, fucking steadily into his fist. “stop, i’m going to-“ they fell on deaf ears, and mouth agape, peter watched you with incredulity. you can feel his body flex, your balls smushed to his when you grinned up, your pre-cum sticking to his, his to yours, like a sick web. “s-stop, oh god.”

and peter unraveled before you with a guttural moan, finishing the rest of his plea with a blasting of thick and creamy ropes to his chest, like a cannon. the force was strong enough to have a few shots land on his face, then his hair, and then somewhere above because peter was a big shooter—a strong one, you’d passionately testify. “f-fuck, i didn’t mean to cum so-“

“holy shit.” you watched peter in all his glory, then in his embarrassment, while stilted on his lap and sweating, not taking notice of the delay of your climax because it crept up on you quick. a rocket broke the cloud in your thoughts with a boom, and you spilled all over him, shooting like fireworks. “shit!”

peter was your canvas, and it was your duty to paint him. debris of sex splattered everywhere, because you somehow found the strength to continue fucking yourself into the cream of fist, unloading and unloading onto him until you were dry, heaving and dripping.  

“fuck- I didn’t mean to ruin your sheets-” he mumbled, a blush stained his cheeks, and you joined in the warmth with a kiss, panting.

“where’s the fun in all of this if you aren’t going to stain at least one thing.” your brows raised at the wet stain on the wall above peter’s head, right below your wall-shelf, and peter’s gazed followed. 

he groaned, distressed by the evident he made. “fuck, sorry…” his bashfulness only endeared you even more. 

“it’s okay,” you hopped off his lap, stretching your arms into the air. “i’ll clean you up.”

“okay,” peter lay still, his hand cautiously held over his stomach to catch the drips of his cum and yours. it was fascinating to watch the mixture flow together, strands of it melding and un-webbing as he played with the sticky residue. it was the scientist in him. “my towel is on the- fuck-“

without a beat, you took his dripping flaccid cock into your mouth, sucking off any remnants of spunk. an unfamiliar taste you weren’t used to, bitter and salty. it wasn’t until you noticed how peter’s eyes glazed over you, half-lidded because he was in heaven now, that you found the taste of him delectable. peter’s caution for staining your bed sheets was disregarded, because he knew you’d clean the rest of him off. 

after you pulled away with a soft pop, he traced your wet lips with the cum on his fingers, then his knuckles, before he pushed one by one into your mouth. one finger at first, then two, then three, you moaned erotically around his digits as peter pumped, marveling in the eagerness of your mouth. he slowly pushed more cum into your mouth. the creamy residue gathered at the corner of your mouth at first but he made sure to scoop it back in, and continued doing so until he was polished clean. 

nothing was wasted. 

the taste of you and him spread in the warmth of your tongue, and you have never felt more intoxicated.

to peter, you have never looked more beautiful.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

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[peterthepark]

𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader x eddie munson

tags: mmf threesome, oral sex, rough sex, unprotected sex, piv, anal, double penetration, dirty talk, dom!eddie, dom!steve, sub!reader, best friends with benefits, mentions of virginity, hair-pulling, breeding kink, throatfucking, squirting, praise and degradation, everyone is horny

summary: back home from school, you recount about your time away in college with steve and eddie, leading to a sexual proposition that you never would’ve expected.

notes: pure filth, forgive me if it is hard to visualize positions… threesomes are very messy and crazy to write! feedback and reblogs appreciated :)

There’s a veering shift in the way they look at you. Maybe it’s because you’ve been gone for so long, so out of the loop, nothing but a modulated grainy voice on the other end of a call line, or a lingering scent in the back of their closets — jasmine, soap, the smell of girl and all things sweet, a tang of Eddie’s favorite green bud. 

You want to believe it’s because they’ve missed you, they always do, but it’s different. 

The way they each hug you, toned arms locked tightly around your waist, dragging and dragging upwards until it’s slung over your shoulder possessively and Steve’s perfectly-curved nose is in the tangles of your hair.

Ours. Ours. Ours.

You may have been gone for almost a year, but you’re still their girl.

“Look at you, dressin’ all tough and shit now!” Eddie grins proudly, tugging the hem of your skull shirt towards him as he tenderly presses your head to his chest. You nearly stumble on your boots, nothing but a shy smile ghosting the curl of your upper lip as he runs his thumb along your brow bone and you inhale him in with fluttering lashes. “You copying me? Stealing my style, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. His gorgeous best friend. Wiser, older now, prettier — well, you’ve always been pretty, but now, you’ve really grown into your features. 

A year, it’s only been a fucking year and yet you still look this good. Better. Knocking the wind out of him, just to breathe it back between his lips.

“You should be flattered,” You shake your head at him, clasping a hand over his shoulder as you gaze over at Steve with admirable regard. There’s emphasis on every word that falls from your taunting smirk as he steps up your front porch. “You should be flattered I chose your clothes over Harrington’s preppy mom-jeans and—“

Then you’re being crushed, wedged between two warm bodies and clashing scents of woodiness and lavender as Steve wraps himself around you. 

“You’re talking mad shit about me now, Y/N? All this time, thought I was your favorite — hey, I know that face — I am certain I was your favorite. I was before this one,” He ruffles Eddie’s hair roughly, beaming at either of you. “Came along and practically hypnotized you with his — his rings and his music and his…”

“Shut up and just say you missed me already.” You pull Steve closer to you, his face burying itself in the crook of your neck as Eddie rests his chin on the top of your scalp. It’s a chorus of can’t believe you’re back, crazy you left us in the first place, you’re here, we’re gonna spend so much time together. You can only smile, feeling their love spill out of their respective cups and into yours as you pull them into the house. “Saps.”

Your childhood bedroom of pinks and blues and whites feels exceptionally, jarringly smaller. 

Steve and Eddie take up so much space — long legs and big socked feet, sharp jaws and curious eyes as you sit out on the fluffy beige carpet, sifting through the contents of your suitcase as you tell them stories about wild parties, about classes, about your messy roommates and about professors who didn’t know how to teach.

‘Listen, I loved Chicago, but I’ll always love Hawkins.’

‘Hello? The only reason you like Hawkins is because of us.’

‘Still you and your ego, Harrington.’

You don’t tell them about the boys, about the crushes and what kind of antics you got up to in the absence of them. Of them, their protectiveness, their touch, gentle and fleeting and borderline blurring the lines of friendship. 

There was an ache for Steve and Eddie — far from platonic, short of romantic, closer to a sexual awakening than anything. The nights where you called, feeling the baritone of their deep snappy voices over the phone as they fought over for a turn, that dreaded dial tone when the line had gone dead and you were left with an emptiness, a twisting heat in your stomach as you replayed their words over and over again before you slept: Miss you. Come home, pretty girl.

You can’t help but wonder what they got up to while you spent nights in the dorms tossing and turning to the thought of either of them. There’s only so many ways you can quietly lull yourself to a blissful sleep in a shared room.

“Mmm, what do we have here?” Eddie breaks up the childish bantering between you and Steve with a curious tone, waving a flimsy stack of polaroids between his forefinger and middle. 

No. No. Absolutely not. Not fucking now.

“Okay, Eddie. Maybe not…” Your laugh is frantic and near-alarmed, hands already reaching out for him until he’s gently swatting you away. “… not that one. Hey, no.”

“Cold case, hard evidence of little Y/N’s college escapades?” He quirks a beady brow, tongue wiggling against his front teeth as he winks at Steve and rambles on in amusement. “Do you… do you hear that? Oh, oh! Eddie, pssst, pssst, Eddie… look at me!”

“Give it back, asswipe.”

“Is Y/N guilty or…” He cards through the pictures, lines dimpling around his pursed lips as a wicked grin starts to split his face in half. “Innocent?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

Stupid. You should have taken this into account, boys and their lack of respect for privacy, your boys and their habit of sticking their noses where they aren’t fucking supposed to. Eddie and his big greedy mouth, yapping and yapping until he’s dragged good ol’ Steve into his influential mess — you’re trapped between the two brunettes, pleading to Ozzy that they save you from the embarrassment and just move on with their lives.

It’s the worst picture out of the stack. So much for “it’s all about preserving the memory, you know, you’re only young once.” 

Memory or not, it was supposed to be for your eyes only. 

Not Steve’s. Not Eddie’s. 

They stare at a blurry photo of you, very topless and covered in bruising hickies, your smile split into a hearty laugh as a green lime dangles from between your teeth and Some Blond Guy licks up a trail of salt off of the horizon of your pretty tummy. 

“Oh, my god.” Steve gapes. “Dude. Body shots?”

“Guys…”

“Don’t guys us, who is this rat-faced son of a bitch that’s practically making out with your stomach?” Eddie’s brows furrow, jealousy dripping from his tone. He’s trying to lead with the playful card, but it’s difficult — difficult when he’s looking at a picture of a guy (who looks like he’s fucking named Brad) basically violating you.

“He’s… a friend. Just a friend.”

Steves laughs unconvinced, “Ah, friend. Guys and girls… they can’t be friends.”

“You’re friends with Robin.” You frown.

“Robin’s gay, you idiot.” Eddie flicks the back of your head.

“Okay, right! Fine! She’s an exception, though.” You scoff. This conversation is unbelievable. “Well, us then? We’re friends.”

Friends. It’s a weird word. People say the l-bomb is horrible, but the f-bomb — friend, not fuck — is absolutely petrifying, numbing, fear-inducing. 

It hangs heavily over your heads like something you’re not supposed to say, like forbidden fruit, Adam, Eve, and the serpent. Because the meaning of friends has always been a little strange for the three of you. What are friends? 

What are we - what are we - what are we?

You are not friends, you are more, something unreachable, unconventional, something only you and they can understand, you are—

“Best friends.” Eddie corrects, glancing up at you. He pins you with his eyes, even as you suddenly avert your attention down to the pack of Marlboros in your lap like it could serve as a scapegoat, your fingers drumming anxiously against the weathered box. “You know what, I get it. I do. I really do, Y/N. A pretty girl — a woman, like you, has primal urges. And when you’re in college…”

“Eddie… I’m not thirteen.”

“Where sometimes mediocre, average fucking bozos like this Brad-looking fellow come along… bless his heart for even trying, by the way...”

You groan outwardly, fingers fumbling to pinch a cig between your quivering lips. Your voice comes out muffled, sharp and blunt like the end of a knife. “His name is Matt, okay?”

Steve winces, glancing over at Eddie who responds to with a shrug. “Okay, well, Matt is just as bad.” 

“Can you guys, like, chill out? Your name is literally Steve.” You avoid their questioning glares, an orange shadow coating the lower half of your jaw. “I just got back and you’re already hounding me.”

A harsh sizzle cuts through the atmosphere as you raise your Bic lighter to your mouth.

You’re defensive. Sensitive. 

They hate it. It’s not like you.

“So, what then?” Eddie continues, unable to drop the subject. He wants to pry. He needs to. It’s you. It’s you, so he has to know every detail, even if it leaves you fuming, nostrils flaring at his persistence. “Is he… the college boyfriend? College sweetheart? How about fratboy, porno fantasy? Hot TA that gives your exams a pass every time? You’ve always been ass at math, can’t even tell a full gram from half so I wouldn’t technically be surprised.”

God. Insufferable. But you still thrum under his stare, his pupils imbedding themselves into your skin as you suck your cheeks in and inhale. 

Eddie wonders if you remember, if there’s some part of you that thinks back on your graduation night, the way he touched you in that diner, a hand spread over your thigh, your head on his shoulder as Steve rambled about how boring his version of graduation was.

Eddie wonders if you remember the way you inhaled him inside Steve’s garage, knees sinking into the shitty abandoned couch beside the washing machine as you eagerly sucked him off. You were on cloud nine, adrenaline coursing through your veins from the thought of college-college-college, but also when will you ever get to do this again? Do this with someone as perfect and rare as Eddie?

‘Do they have boys like you in college?’

You can still picture the glimmer of his smile. ‘God, I hope not. What a bad influence they would be.’

‘I think I turned out pretty okay so far.’

His rings stuck in your hair, his head thrown back against the furniture, your mouth and the lewd, filthy squelch of his cock burying itself in your throat while you waited for Steve to come back after he had forgotten his wallet at the diner.

‘This doesn’t change anything’, you had told him. ‘We’re always gonna be best friends.’

‘I know, sweetheart. Just needed something to take the edge off, didn’t you? Bet you’ve been working so hard on getting that scholarship, smart girl.’

He fingered you under the graduation gown afterwards.

“Y/N.”

Fuck. “I didn’t — it was nothing. He was nothing. Trust me. Just… I mean, a quick fuck, s’all, I didn’t even…” You chuckle nervously, girlish and unsure and very vulnerable. “… okay, he was fun, but like, I didn’t even cum so… so it doesn’t count. He doesn’t count.”

“You fucked Brad?”

“Matt.” You cringe. 

Steve’s voice nearly booms. “You fucked Matt?” 

“It’s college!” You cough out, choking on the contents of your cigarette. “People fuck other people all the time.”

“Weren’t you a virgin?” 

You were a virgin. Technically. But you were also a virgin when Eddie spread you open on that couch, moaning as he told you how proud he was of you for working so hard. 

You were also a virgin when Steve made out with you in the back of a movie theater, where he’d left a gnarly hickey on your left boob for everyone to see — including Eddie, who didn’t even bat an eyelash because he knew, he fucking knew that Steve boyishly wanted you in the same way he did the summer after you graduated, and he supposes that’s why there’s always been an unspoken understanding between the three of you.

‘If you make a sound, we’re gone. Kicked out. Won’t get to finish this awful movie,’ Steve said. ‘You want that?’

Breathless. Eager. Drowsily drunk on your affection.

His lips against your neck, your pulse point, a nibble to your jaw, a hungry tug on your earring. Fucking hell. How soft he was, how gentle, how he touched you with such a special regard and how some sick, jealous part of you thought — were you like this with Nancy? Was it ever like this was Nancy? Part of you wanted to moan. Croak out his name. Make a sound, any sound, so you could get kicked out and have him all to yourself.

You were a virgin when Eddie let you practice a handjob on him in the living room of his uncle’s trailer. You were a virgin when Steve ate you out in his car after finding out you were leaving for Chicago. 

You were a virgin. 

“I was, but I’m… do you even count that? He didn’t even… he could barely stick it in me at first, Steve, Eds.” 

The air feels angry. Tense. It’s suffocating, how they share that look, how they casually train their gazes back on you like you’ve killed someone. “What was he like?”

“Come again?” 

Your eyes nearly bulge out of your skull as Eddie steals the cig from your lips, taking a drag before he repeats himself — slower, syllables laced with a darker want. 

“I said, what was he like? In bed? You said he could barely stick it in you, so I doubt he was any fucking good.”

“Did he kiss you?” Steve follows on, nodding at Eddie to pass him the Marlboro. It’s so fucking intimate. His lips on the patch where Eddie’s had been, to which, in turn, where yours was. There’s smoke everywhere, even as he speaks, it somehow hits you coldly right on the mouth. “Was he a good kisser?”

Only then do you realize how physically close you are to both of them. You’re stuck, sandwiched between their thighs, their knees knocking against yours as you try to compose yourself. “It wasn’t… it wasn’t awful but it wasn’t good, either. Too much tongue. Too much — not enough… not enough teeth, I guess. You know how I…” 

Oh, they know, alright.

You don’t even flinch as Steve leans over and passes the cig back to Eddie. It’s a dance, a fucking taunt as you clench your jaw and curl into yourself under their presence. The longer-haired brunette tosses the dirty polaroid aside, speaking accusingly through a lazy drag. 

“Thought you wanted to save it for someone special, sweetheart.”

“I did.”

“No judgement there. Lay it on us, what changed then?”

You shrug, blinking rapidly. “Just wanted to get it over with.” They don’t believe you. It’s clear as day on their faces, the crease between their eyes, the side-twitch of Eddie’s lips and Steve’s nerved running of hands through his hair. “If you wanna call bullshit…”

“Bullshit.” These fuckers. Steve eggs you further, “A real reason, come on, Y/N.”

“Look, you’re gonna make fun of me.”

“Which we always do. Just spill it.”

You can’t hide anything from them. Not them. Not Steve, who’s practically had his handsome face between your legs for hours and not Eddie who’s basically bent you over the hood of his van so he could spread you open with his fingers. 

Not your best friends, who you’ve wanted in an insatiable way all your life, even when you had went away, it was always them — just the thought of them — that made you dizzy in all the right headspaces, the callousness of their fingers, their constant gonna-take-care-of-you aura and that implicit agreement between you and the two of them that I’m yours, m’your girl, always going to be.

“I just always thought I’d… lose it to one of you guys, and — I mean, you guys weren’t there and so I just figured I’d be more… fuck, I dunno, desirable? Yeah, just… desirable if I lost it before I came back since you already have so m-much, like, experience and...” You mumble rapidly, losing your tongue amongst your word-vomit of an explanation as you clamber onto your knees and try to stand up. Hot, embarrassed tears blur the cones of your vision. “It’s stupid, really! Like, it doesn’t even matter to me anymore because i-it was such a disappointing experience. Let’s just drop this, okay?”

This has to be a dream. A prank. A delusion. Maybe you’re still in Chicago, blacked-out after a party. Drank too much? Took the wrong weed? Shit, maybe Eddie is right — you don’t know half a gram from a full one.

And before you can shakily rise to two feet, your elbow is tugged back forcefully. Pain shoots up your arm, and you nearly yelp when your ass collides onto your springy twin mattress. 

“Uh-uh, you are not getting yourself out of this so easily. If it was oh-so disappointing, tell us what he did wrong and we’ll… we’ll… we can be your fix-it. Think of us as a rebound for, like, the guy you totally should not have fucked. Again, no judgement. Just saying a girl like you should have high standards.”

You should not be turned on right now.

Eddie looks sincere and so pleadingly desperate for an answer that you feel the yearning in his stare. It’s graduation night all over again. The stir of your belly, the squeeze he gives your thigh as he sits beside you, your glance of disbelief at Steve and his return of that hooded-gaze that turns you completely boneless as he joins the two of you on the bed.

“And you meet that standard?” You scoff, a snort following.

His brows rise up his forehead. You’re testing him. “I can meet any standard, sweetheart.” 

“And you swear you guys can do better than Matt?”

“You already know we can do better than Matt.” Steve laughs, almost as if you had just said something completely stupid. 

Eddie’s fingers trail up your knee, a ghost of a touch. He’s barely even pressing into your skin, but you feel him — his warmth, just inches away, gliding over the little goosebumps on your body, caressing the shaky ball of your knee. 

“You know, we talked ‘bout you. Had our own bonding moment, me and Harrington. Jus’ talked about how we’d take you out once you got back, treat you like a real princess after being so studious, talked about how… hm...” He chuckles, pausing to glance up at you while you lose yourself in his beady smile. This fucker. This absolute fucker. “Talked about how generous you are when it comes to friends. Thinkin’ we didn’t know you were practically playing pornstar with the both of us. Doin’ shit behind our backs like you’re a genius.”

Both of us. 

Both. You want them both, and suddenly, you don’t feel bad for being unbelievably horny, a fucking mess. 

“Listen…”

“Nu-uh. It was smart. You gotta make do with what you have. I’ll give you that.”

Steve whispers, thumbing at the corners of your lip. “Hey. No need to be embarrassed. S’alright that big brain of yours can’t think right now. You just wanna feel good. That whole thing with Matt must’ve been so disappointing.”

Eddie puts out his cigarette on the polaroid, smirking when he cups a large hand around your chin, thumb and pointer finger pressing into your hollow cheeks before he’s tenderly pulling your head to look at him. 

There is too much heat. It’s stuffy, and warm, and you can’t really breathe. There’s grimy sweat in the crooks your elbows, the duvet is getting stuck to your skin and you can’t really sit still in the itchy fabric of your sweats because it’s fucking boiling. It’s boiling and you can’t think and you don’t know what the hell is happening, and you want air — not this swirling humidity that wafts under your knees, between your thighs…

“You’re awfully quiet.”

“I’m thinking.”

“Yeah?” His hand dips down your jaw, fingers wrapping around the small girth of your throat. A gentle squeeze. Experimental. Your breath hitches, a stuttering exhale as he tries again, harder, then he’s withdrawing and soothing the roughened area. “Care to share with the class? Unless, it’s inappropriate… then, you might just wanna,” He chuckles, tilting your head back. “… whisper it.”

If this is a black-out, you hope you wake up with a gnarly hangover. 

“If that offer still stands, if you guys wanna be my… my rebound or— or fix-it, or whatever the fuck...” This is messy. This is wrong. This is… this isn’t what friends do… but at this point, can you even call yourselves friends? “I’m down to do it.”

“You sure? I mean, you were just a virgin and…”

You snap. “Well, that never stopped either of you before, did it?”

He lunges at you.

Your mouth finds Eddie in the tangle of limbs and bodies. You run your fingers through his unruly hair, feeling yourself relax into the sudden notion as he tilts his chin to slot his lips over yours. It’s brazen, an open letter of lust from you to him saying I want this. I want you to kiss me back. I want this so bad, you don’t even know. 

It’s a burning ember of feverish desire as he parts himself open and open, tongues slowly rolling against each other until a moan slips out of you. “You like this? Don’t think it’s weird or anything?”

“M’fine.”

“Tell me to stop — fuck — and I’ll stop.”

“No.”

You can feel Steve pressing against your back, the pads of his fingers digging themselves into your flesh, marking the spots where Eddie’s lips can’t reach as the metalhead dips into your collarbone and sucks. Hard. He leaves you purple and aching, your neck craned as the lighter-haired brunette dips your head back and gazes down at you.

“Christ, she likes that.”

You sigh in bliss, slowly unraveling at the seams. 

And oh, your whole body fucking stutters when Eddie dips his hand between your legs, causing you to lurch for Steve’s mouth in order to stifle the whiny gasp of surprise knocked out of you. His palm envelops your jaw. He’s warm. Wet. Lids moony and lips silky with an indiscernible impatience you can’t recognize. 

More. Give me more of you. 

You jolt as Eddie’s hands carefully push the fabric of your shirt up, his nose nudging against the valley of your breasts before he’s cupping you in a lazy grasp. He mouths at your nipples and he savors it. He thanks you. He thanks you with a twist to one of the hardened buds, soothing the area with his tongue before his teeth climb up the front of your neck and he makes you whimper. 

“Fuck, I love how whiny you get.” He hums. “Sensitive little thing, aren’t you? S’just my favorite part about you, Y/N. I’m sure Harrington agrees, seeing as… I’m not the only guy you do this kind of shit with.”

A bite. A bruise. An apologetic kiss even though he’s far from sorry. He’s calling you a slut without even saying it.

And while Eddie traverses his way up to your mouth, Steve dips down to nurse a path all over your back. Your shirt gets lost along the carpet somewhere, your shoulders bare and waiting as he takes your flesh between smiling lips and leaves a glistening trail of wet, open-mouthed pecks on your flexing muscles.

Then Eddie… oh, Eddie, the dirty-minded fucker.

Eddie gives you another hungry kiss, only this time it’s like you haven’t kissed in years. He kisses you like he doesn’t already have you yearning and yearning for more. He bites your bottom lip, drawing a raspy gasp from the back of your throat. His nose smashes against your cheek as he moans into you, the taste of cigarettes lingering on your tongue. 

“You’re so pretty. You’re so pretty, baby…” Steve ruts against your tailbone, collecting your hair into a careful fist and tugging until you’re pulled away from your deepening kiss. “You must’ve been so empty back there, aching. I can’t imagine how awful you must’ve felt, Y/N. Were any of those guys even any good to you?”

“No. Not even close — not like you.”

“Mm, shame.”

You don’t take your stare off of Steve at all, scared that if you looked away, scared that even one second would take this away from you. He kisses the sides of your socked feet, grazing his lips over your ankles and clothed calves until you shudder at the close proximity to your core.

Anticipation is coursing through your veins. Your chest is heaving, eyes wide like a baby owl. There’s an unmistakable throb that you recognize between your thighs. Burning you from the inside. Burning you at the stake. Burning you until you’re nothing but ash and a brandished vessel of blooming hickies. 

Fucking fuck.

“You hear that? Harrington’s right, bet Matt didn’t even eat you out if he couldn’t even get his cock in.” Eddie grits out unfiltered while you part your legs for Steve, inviting him. You exhale sharply — nuzzling your face into the crook of the metalhead’s neck as he wraps you in his arms. He can feel the soft, warm puffs of breath against his jaw as Steve finally tugs your sweats down. “Your pussy’s tight, Y/N.” A kiss to your belly. A suckle to where your pelvis meets your hip. A brush of tongue against your clothed clit until you jolt upright. “But not that tight.”

You melt. You fucking burst. You don’t fucking know anymore, but either way, it’s a new area of bliss. Eddie can quite literally feel you go rigid in his grasp, sliding deeper and deeper against him until he has no choice but to tuck you under the nook of his elbow and hold you close. 

You’re burning, hand clenching around Eddie’s bicep as Steve drags the squishy tip of his nose between your folds through the cotton fabric. 

“Pretty cunts like yours deserve to be treasured.” 

“Please, Steve…” His brown eyes flicker up to you attentively, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your mound as your hips impatiently stir against the bed. “Fuck — just… just take me right now. Please. Eddie, tell him, please.”

“Oh, sweetheart…” Eddie purrs, palming at your tits teasingly. He blows cool air into your face, brushing away your bangs as his lips hug the shell of your ear. “Thought all your begging would be so much better given what Harrington’s told me. Unless he’s a liar? You wouldn’t call him a liar, would you? Beg Steve to give it to you. Beg him the way you would if it was me down there.”

“I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

They are filthy in the fucking head. They have already stripped you of your pride. You may as well just follow. You may as well turn yourself in, play along with them and this fantasy that may or may not be real. Oh, but it has to be real. It has to, when you can feel Steve’s fingers dip past the decorative bow of your panties, shimmying and shimmying until you’re bare and open for him.

You squeeze around nothingness. 

“You wanna stop?” Steve runs his palm up your stomach, fingers splayed so unbelievably wide and long across your skin. It makes you lightheaded, a fixation on his smooth digits and reddened knuckles in contrast to his rose-pink complexion. “We can stop right here, whatever you want, whatever feels comfortable, baby.”

He’s being nice. It should make you feel warm inside, giddy even, that given the circumstances, he still regards you in a way that makes you feel nothing short of safe. Comfortable. But that sick, wronged part of you — the side you happen to share with your two best friends — wants him to drop the gentleman act. 

Take me, take me like you have all those times before.

Why hold back now?

“I don’t wanna stop.”

Eddie leans over and nips at the tip of your ear. His deep whisper leaves you tingling, almost trembling at how bad you need them in you, on you, just here. “Then beg.” 

“I…” You whimper, cheeks growing hot as you feel their eyes study you. “Steve, I just… please? Please, I don’t…” 

“You know what? Maybe we shouldn’t.”

“No! No, please fucking touch me.” You gasp shakily, biting your pride back and digging your nails into your calves before you’re spreading your legs farther to satisfy him, entice him. “Please touch me. I need it, need you s-so bad. Steve, please?”

He hums. You aren’t sure if it’s a sound of approval or one of uncertainty, but either way, your pathetic manner of begging does the trick. For now. 

And you’re thankful that you’re home alone because the moan that’s ripped right out of your throat is almost animalistic, maybe even concerning, when Steve dips his face between your thighs and finally puts his mouth on your throbbing sex. Your head lolls back into Eddie’s neck, his fingers coming to stroke the strained vein in the column throat as you arch against him and rut against an unmistakable, very-acute pressure on your tailbone.

He’s hard. 

Meanwhile, Steve is gently swiping his tongue over your folds, suckling at your clit before he’s dipping the muscle in and out of your fluttering hole. 

“That’s it, Harrington.” A deep chuckle erupts from Eddie, his breaths growing deeper with each moan that leaves his companion. “Go to town on her.”

You’re basically panting for air, pulled under as Steve drags a heavy palm down your outer thigh, slapping where it rounds into the shape of your ass. It stings harshly, a burning bloom of irritation before he does it again and it stings even more. 

But, fuck, does it feel good.

Steve’s nose presses against your bundle of nerves as he stretches his tongue into you. His expression is pulled into a concentrated scowl, knitted brows and muffled moans while he decides to stroke the pad of his finger against your entrance and gapes at what he discovers.

“You’re so fucking wet right now… Christ.” Agonizingly slow, Steve pushes a digit inside your cunt, curling it so that it hits that spongy desperate part of you that makes you croon and twitch in Eddie’s arms. You nearly gush at the sensation.

“There we go, princess. Mmm, fuck, you take good care of my girl, don’t you, Harrington?” 

Eddie is exceptionally fucked and twisted in the head. You think it’s a power play, him enjoying his one-up, best foot forward against Steve because he had you first. My girl. My girl. It’s warranted, valid — wrong in all the right ways — but he’s not lying, because Eddie took the initial bullet that was his desire for you. 

“Play nice, Munson. Sharing is caring.”

“Then stop messin’ with her like she’s a plate of mush.”

Quite frankly, you feel like a plate of mush.

It stirs him, competitively pushes the brunette to go harder and before you know it, his fingers are squelching down there. It’s wet, erotically messy, probably would’ve been gross to any other guy but it’s Steve and Eddie, your best friends who happened to be fucking perverts with a soft spot for you, so who cares? 

Eddie does not mean to claim you. Especially claiming ownership over someone who, obviously, isn’t his if there’s easily another man inside you. But Eddie knows your body, he knows no other body like yours because it didn’t just stop at graduation night. 

Maybe Harrington hasn’t caught on, but you’ve always been Eddie’s first love in all the ways that count. It’s truly unfair.

It’s even more unfair knowing that you’ll always favor Steve over him. 

But it’s okay. The bed’s big enough for three.

Your hand grips Steve roughly by the wrist, forcing his hand down the drenched seam of your cunt even more. 

“T-there… right there, just… want it hard, and — and fast… don’t need you to be gentle.”

“She’s blushing, Eddie.”

You blubber, eyebrows creasing with confusion as your voice gets caught in your throat and you rasp brokenly in immediate defense, “I don’t blush.”

Steve laughs. Loud. Shocked. Eyes-wide and mocking as he repeats your words under his breath and smirks up at Eddie. I don’t blush.

At this point, you’re just annoyed. “Oh, well, not you, honey.” You yelp in surprise as Steve scissors his thick fingers knuckle-deep, coating his skin in creamy arousal. “I was talking about your pussy.”

Instinctively, your smaller hand darts out to grab Eddie’s thigh, but instead, you’re met with something very hard, very much not his knee nor his leg — but his cock. The silky feeling of it in your hand turns you flustered. His red, heavy balls spill out from the waistband of his haphazardly-tugged boxers pooling below his taut hips. 

The barbed-wire tattoo that wraps across his thigh taunts you, the faded bat wings on his abdomen just waiting to be tasted. You salivate at the thought of… fuck, nevermind. You can’t even think straight.

It’s nothing you haven’t seen before, but in the context of all this, it’s a sight that unhinges your jaw and causes you to try to squeeze your legs together — Steve feels the change in pressure around his head, how your thighs press harder against either ear, clenching and clenching till he has no choice but to lap at your cunt till you let go.

“F-Fuck, Steve… I’m… fuck, your mouth, it’s…” 

A shared moan from Eddie and yourself cuts your blubbering short as you give his long shaft an experimental tug, running your thumb over his shiny slit till he’s hissing at you.

“Jus’ like that, Y/N.” Eddie groans, a hand coming to stroke the back of your head till he’s grasping the nape of your neck and making you watch yourself stroke his cock. “Shit, sweetheart… see what you — you do to me? God, fuckin’… you fucking slut. Christ… fuck, your hand just feels so… oh, baby.”

His chin tilts back, eyes rolling into his skull as you crudely lick the palm of your hand and reach for his balls, coating him in a glistening film that has you drooling beneath the surface. “Let me make you feel good, please?”

“Yeah? That what you want?” He grits out, sighing as you drag your tongue along the ink on his pelvis.

“Please?”

“Since you begged so nicely,” Eddie hums, leaning back on his elbows as your tiny fist instantly reaches for his heavy cock. He nods at it, dropping his look from your clouded eyes to where his cock rests against his lower stomach. “It’s all yours. Go crazy. You know how I fucking like it.”

Messy. Loud. Disgusting.

Fingers covered in saliva as you pump him in your grasp, massaging the sensitive ridge under his tip with each upward stroke. A squeeze to his shaft everytime Steve pumps his fingers out of you and rubs your clit just the way you need him to. Eddie’s hands wander over your hips, gripping you flush against him until you’re leaning over to take his cock into your mouth.

Stuffed full of Steve’s fingers and stuffed full of Eddie’s dick. What a predicament.

“Shittt…” Eddie hisses as you take him, lips suctioning around the aching head of his dick before you’re dragging your tongue down the velvety, wet base of him. He shudders visibly once again. “Jesus fucking Christ, baby. You’re g-goddamn divine.”

You try to suck him in deeper when Steve adds another finger, his tongue lapping at your needy clit as Eddie instinctively pushes on the back of your head and shoves you further down his cock. He holds you there, mewling at the way saliva and cum dribble down his ruddy shaft, pooling around his balls. 

You gag disgustingly loud, retaliating with a heavy swat to his arm before you realize your own orgasm is approaching hard and fast once he finally lets off and gives you air.

“Fuck. Fuck. Steve, b-babe… I’m — oh, shit… m’gonna cum if you keep…”

“If I keep doing this?”

You sob into Eddie’s neck as Steve scissors his fingers in and out of you, the naughty squelch of your cunt overpowering the white noise of your childhood bedroom. It’s lewd, how your knuckles glisten with Eddie’s thick pre-cum, Steve’s fingers serving as a direct mirror to that when you find release and gush around him.

“Fuck, Y/N! That’s hot. That’s really fucking hot. Shit, I just made you squirt.” He exhales shakily, a shy laugh falling at the end of his ramblings. “Always wanted to do that. S’just so sexy when you do it — fuck — I wanna watch you do it again.”

Steve’s cock throbs intensely beneath you as you christen his mouth with your arousal, his jaw wet and chin shiny as he languidly moves his mouth side to side against your clit.

“O-Oh, god… s’too… m’too sensitive, I… Steve…”

Like a starving man, his strong hands keep you pinned down when he wraps them around your hips, feeling for your ass and spreading you wide while you soak his face. 

“Whose cock do you want inside you first, sweetheart?” Eddie rasps, his free hand resting over yours as he drags it up your ribs, the swell of your breasts, brushing over your hardened nipples before he brings it back down to your stomach. Stroking and stroking, teasing you as your other best friend peppers the insides of your thighs with gentle kisses. “Thinking about how tight you probably are right now, even if Steve fucked you open with his fingers, I bet that little cunt of yours is still just as tight as that night in the garage, yeah? Yeah, it is.” He chuckles, drawing hearts on your hip bone. “Are you gonna let me fuck it? In front of Harrington? Let him watch me stick my cock inside it for the first time? Let him watch the way your eyes just… droop all sleepy and fucked-out when I cum in you?”

Steve laughs, smiling to himself as he wipes the slick from his mouth, collecting it with the pad of his fingers before he’s wiggling the digits in front of Eddie’s mouth.

“Taste her,” He says without shame, eyes moony and half-lidded as Eddie slowly wraps his lips around them. Eyes locked on Steve’s, he fucking moans at the flavor of you. “Sweet, isn’t she?”

He releases him with a pop, grinning like a Cheshire cat. 

“Oh, she’s the sweetest.” He drawls, tongue darting out to lick the space between Steve’s fingers. “You wanna watch me fuck her now, Harrington? Promise you can stick it in her pussy later.” Eddie’s hand cups your jaw, lolling your head back against his shoulder so he can smirk down at you. His doe-eyes swirl with some sick form of tenderness, and the crude denotation of his next words almost fly right over your head when his gaze flickers back up to Steve. “As long as I get her ass.”

A gasp rips out of you when Eddie pulls you up by your underarms, your tender cheek falling against the mattress while Steve lingers at the foot of the bed, arm propped up against the post — where he stands now fully nude. 

Your eyes shamelessly rake over his length, admiring the groomed bush of hair around his base, his athletic frame, the girth of his arms. He pumps his cock in front of you, your attention fully directed to him as Eddie undresses himself behind you.

“Staring is rude, y’know.” Steve quips, breathless as he runs his thumb over his meaty tip with a cocky grin. He nods down at his prick, the shaft darker than the rest of him. “You think you can take it, babe?”

“I… I think so. It’s — you’re just so…”

“Big?”

“Perfect.” You gulp out, palm coming up from the mattress to reach for him. “You’re just perfect, Stevie.”

And you swear that Steve blushes. His cheeks tinge pink, freckles prominent on the bridge of his nose as a faint smile lingers across his pillowy lips. But before you can even let your nails excitedly skim across his abdomen, Eddie yanks you back by your hips, ass arched up into the air as he pries your legs apart with his knee.

The action takes you by surprise, your neck twisting to look helplessly over your shoulder up at Eddie. “What are you—“

He leans over you, caging your body with his. You gag when he shoves his fingers past your lips, clutching at his wrist while Steve’s darkened eyes meet his. “Spit.”

Fuck. Okay.

Maybe you really should’ve been patient and lost your virginity to one of them when you got back.

Eddie pulls away; strings of saliva connect to his palm, to which he uses as makeshift lube for his ruddy cock. You study the way he languidly spreads the thick glob up and down his dick, the filthy wet squelch of it causing heat to pool into your belly. 

You jolt when you feel his fingers skim over your entrance. “E-Eds…”

The aftershocks of your previous orgasm still linger, evident due to the tremble of your thighs and the deep furrow in your brow as you take a moment to brace yourself.

“Sensitive, sweetheart?” Eddie’s curious voice crackles, the tip of his finger dragging along the backsides of your thighs, tracing the curve of your ass. “S’okay, Y/N. I’ll go slow. At first.” He quips, sincerity and amusement dripping from his tone all at once. His mouth dips down, kissing the planes of your shoulders, your spine, the dip of your tailbone. “Don’t get in your head about it. I’m gonna take care of you.” Eddie whispers, taking his cock into his fist and running the tip along your cunt. You choke on a moan, feeling him slowly split you open. “I a-always take care of you, don’t I? Fuck. Fuck. Shit, you’re — Y/N, baby, you’re already… already squeezin’ me, fuck. S’okay. Fuck. It’s okay. K-Keep clenching my dick like that and this’ll be over so… fast.”

“Eddie!”

You make a move to look at him, but Steve’s hand finds your jaw, pulling your gaze back. “Eyes on me. Tell me how it feels.”

“It’s…” You clutch at the sheets, syllables lost on your tongue as you mewl scandalously. “I can feel his cock s-stretching me out. M’just… just so wet for him.” You sob as Eddie bottoms out, his balls grazing against your clit. His lips meet the crook of your shoulder as he stills inside you. “So wet for it. Please. Please. Fuck, I need… need more. Need, oh, to m-move.” The sheets wrinkle beneath you as Eddie’s hips roll back, his cock slamming into you in deep, agonizing thrusts. “Oh, yes… yes, just like that…”

“Christ, Harrington.” Eddie lets out a grunt, thrusting in and out of you. He watches the way your folds grip around him, asshole puckering as he thumbs at it. “She’s… Jesus Christ, she feels amazing. You hear that? Shit, that’s just her pussy. Makin’ all those wet sounds like a goddamn – fuck – like she’s a little cocksleeve. Fuck yes, but you’re the real thing, a-aren’t you, sweetheart? God, I could jus’ live in your pretty cunt.” He rambles, a harsh spank landing on either of your ass cheeks. 

“Fuck, Eddie!”

“I love this pretty pussy. Fuck. I fucking love it — so good. M-Mindblowingly good. Jus’ got me m-melting inside you. Fuck, Y/N. How am I ever supposed to go without this cunt? S’fucking dream, that’s it. You’re a fucking dream.”

Steve’s head falls against the intricate bedpost, face scrunched up into pleasure and agony just watching Eddie spear his cock into you. You fall further into the mattress, sweat beading off of your brow as you take in the sight of Steve’s cock dripping with pre-cum. His balls hang heavily between his thick thighs, his abs rippling under the orange glow of your lampshade.

Each stroke leaves Eddie’s creamy shaft glistening and wet, your arousal sticking to his skin and the bush of hair at the base of him as he fucks you deeply. A fist tangled in your hair, the other glued to your shoulder, his mouth pulled into a lewd ‘O’ that mirrors Steve’s handsome expression of bliss.

You whimper, eyes welling up with tears, “I’m gonna… oh, fuck, baby… m’gonna c-cum.”

“Yeah? Gonna cum on this cock?” Eddie snarls, hips quickly snapping into you. “Shit, shit, shit. Fuck, I can feel you tensing up for me. Yes, cum on it, sweetheart. S’okay, you can cum for us. Do it, Y/N.”

“So good. So — I’m cumming!”

Your whole body goes boneless against the longer-haired brunette, his arm generously scooping you up from under so that he can pull you flush against his chest. Your tits heave with every tremble of your thighs. Your cunt convulses around Eddie’s shaft, milking him as he keeps your hips firmly planted in place against his skin.

“Oh, honey. Yeah, that’s it.” Steve coos with a sweet chuckle, reaching over to cradle your face in his hands. “Came a little hard, huh? You did so well. Look at you, still so fucking hot.” He chuckles, brushing the hair away from your face and kissing your forehead. “Atta girl. Cumming on her best friend’s cock.” His thumbs prod at your bottom lip. “Who woulda thought?”

“Christ, Steve. She’s even — even tighter.” 

“Yeah? Think it’ll fit?” Steve pouts, pumping himself as Eddie pulls out of you. 

“Mmm, maybe. Maybe not. Can always butter you up some more, Y/N. Make sure there’s enough room for Harrington.” He snickers, “I call him big boy for a reason.”

You can only whine, too fucked-out from your orgasm to even properly respond. 

Fuck. Really, that’s the only word on your mind right now.

“Hey, you with us?” 

“Just…” You laugh, cut off by your own wince. “Fucking hell, just gimme a sec.”

Steve raises a brow at his friend, studying the way you roll back onto the bed, back arched against the sheets as you stretch your arms over your head and look dreamily up at him. “That good, huh?” You nod, biting your lip as he crawls onto the bed, “You think I can do better?”

A boost of confidence surges through you, the words leaving your lips airily and teasingly. 

“Dunno. How about you show me, King Steve?”

“You’re gonna absolutely kill me, you know that?” The freckled brunette whispers, mouthing up your thighs before he’s rolling you on top of him, tucking your hair behind your ears as Eddie comes to kneel behind you, kissing the nape of your neck. “Calling me King Steve like it doesn’t turn you on when you say it,” He chuckles, rubbing up your thighs. “You rode Brad’s cock?”

“No. And his name… is Matt,” You grin, splaying your palms over his chest. “Play nice, tiger.”

“This is nice.” You guide him into your entrance, moaning as you sink down past his tip, the head of him catching on the swell of your clit. Steve’s head falls back against the bed, plump lips parting with a sigh as you take him to the hilt. “God, but this cunt is even nicer — shit, Munson, you weren’t lying.”

“Fuck, Steve. It’s… fuck, fuck, fuck. Oh, my god.” His thick cock spreads your folds open, the pink tint of his cock turning slick with your cum as you shakily pull yourself up and down his length. “Feels so good. Oh, your — please…”

Eddie’s arm wraps around your hips, his finger coming to circle your clit while his free hand spreads your ass apart, his dick nudging against your tight hole. “Do you trust me?”

Your jaw lolls back against Eddie’s shoulder, eyes fluttering in pleasure as Steve meets your thrusts. “Y-Yes, please. Just — fuck, need both of you. Need it inside m-me. Put it in, Eds. Please, put it in.” You beg tearily, resting your hand against his taut stomach.

“I’ll go slow.” He whispers, kissing your cheek before taking a hold of your neck. “So slow, you won’t even know I’m here. Jus’ focus on the way Harrington breeds that cunt, yeah? Guy fucking loves that shit. You tell me to stop — you tell either of us to stop and we will, understand?”

“I understand.”

“Good girl. You have lube for me?”

Your jaw falls open as Eddie slips a finger into your ass, the ring of muscle sucking the digit deeper and deeper inside as you fuck yourself on Steve. 

“In my — my luggage.”

“Tsk tsk, naughty.”

You lose yourself in the tangle of limbs and shifting of blankets, your knees knocking against the mattress as Eddie finds his way back to the pair of you.

“Can’t believe you — you’re riding me right now. Holy shit, you look so… so beautiful.” Steve gasps out between wet strokes, worshipping your body with an open mouth, “Do you know how long I’ve been wanting this? Wanting to be inside you? Oh, and I get this pussy all to myself? 

“I’ve always — fuck — always wanted to know how big you are. How it feels to be… to be filled up with my two favorite people in the world — oh, harder.” You growl, feeling a cool liquid squirt down your skin. The lube is warm, slippery as Eddie drenches everything in it, the sloppy squelch of his fingers working into your ass are enough to make your face heat up and hide in Steve’s shoulder. “Harder.”

“You really want this?” Eddie rasps, scissoring them in and out. “You think your virgin ass can take me? I think you need more time, baby. Gotta ease you into it.”

You reach around you to grasp his cock in your hand, panting against him while Steve continues to fuck the slick channel of your cunt. It’s devastating, how he hits every part of you, the crude squelch of it all, how Eddie grips and grips at your ass till you’re basically laying over Steve’s chest.

“I want it.”

“Breathe, then.”

It feels like hours before Eddie really does anything, just the cruel fingering of your ass accompanied by the pounding of Steve’s cock into you. Then eventually, there’s the sliminess of the lube, the glistening of two well-endowed ruddy cocks, happy trails and velvet skin slowly being swallowed by your cunt and ass.

The first few moments of Eddie’s tantalizing press of his cock against your puckering hole is enough to have you jolting forward in Steve’s arms, a comforting shush lulling you to a calm as the boys kiss down your body — worshipping you, soothing you, enticing you. 

“Oh, my god!”

It’s… it’s too fucking much. The titillating burn of it. The building pressure. You feel like you’re being pulled under and under, endlessly being filled up by him until he’s drawing his hips back and pushing into you all over again.

“Relax, Y/N. You gotta relax, or I can’t — fuck, I won’t be able to take care of you.” Eddie kisses along the slope of your shoulder, his inked thighs entangling with Steve’s bare ones as he leans over your backside. “Okay?”

You nod and exhale sharply, letting yourself become mush between Steve and Eddie’s bodies as he drives into you from behind, using your ass the same way he had used your sopping cunt. Their cocks drive into you, bone mashing against bone, skin slapping against skin, warmth oozing out of you until you feel like you’re on fire. 

“Does it feel good, honey?” Steve grunts from beneath you. The look on his face nearly makes you cum — hair tousled, eyes half shut as he groans deeply. His aching arms ripple, holding you against his chest as Eddie sloppily ruts into you from behind. “You want us to go faster? Make you squirt over both of our cocks? Fuck, taking it in the ass makes you so tight.”

You lose yourself in Eddie’s kisses, the way he drags his lips across your jaw and down your bruised neck, the way Steve sits up to toy with the peak of your breasts, his tongue swiping over the sensitive nubs. 

Numb. Boneless. You can’t think.

“Think she’s gonna cum, Harrington. Just look at her.”

Steve cooes, flicking his finger over your swollen clit. 

“You gonna cum, princess?” You gasp loudly as Eddie draws his hand across your ass, spanking you brutally until your face is buried in Steve’s collarbones. “Fuck, Eddie’s right… this cunt is — fuck — such a dream. Shit, you’re close. Think I’m gonna cum, t-too. M’gonna fill y-you up, Y/N. Fuck...”

“Yeah? Gonna breed my pussy?”

“Oh, that nasty mouth.”

“I want you to cum inside, Steve.”

“Fuck!” His warm seed fills you up quickly, shooting right against your walls as his hips snap into you over and over again. Relentless. Unforgiving. Your cunt fluttering and leaking with his own spill as Steve just fucking stares and watches you become one with him. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, princess. It’s — oh, you’re… m-milking me. Oh, shit. Shit!”

They’re both balls deep inside you and yet all you can think about is how you’re one-hundred percent never walking again after all of this is over. 

Your own brain melts before you can even get a word out, turning you into a broken record of strangled moans and incoherent begging. 

Princess, you like it when Eddie fucks your ass, don’t you?

Just wait till you give Harrington a turn. 

You’re gorgeous like this, letting us stretch your little holes out just ‘cause we’re best friends — god — you dirty, wet girl. I’m never getting enough.

So pretty. So fucking p-pretty.

You cum instantly, your orgasm sneaking up on you from behind and swallowing you whole. Your release has you convulsing shamelessly in the boys’ arms, your mouth claimed by each of theirs as you switch between Steve and Eddie, then Steve again, and Eddie once more until your body refuses to recognize whose skin is whose and who tastes like what. 

“Christ,” Eddie grits out. “Christ, your cunt is — you’re strangling my cock, baby. Baby. Oh, fuck, baby.”

Everything comes in a rush. Words lose their meaning, their formation and elegance (if you could even call dirty talk elegant) as Eddie’s ramblings get strung together and Steve’s hands roughly find solace on your thighs. The warm bloom in your ass almost makes you cum again, and you moan wantonly as Eddie jerks and vibrates against you. 

You wince when they pull out at nearly the same time — almost as if they had coordinated it — and you wince when you feel their spend trickle down your thighs. 

Your cunt clenches around nothingness as you sputter with their cum, your asshole puckering against Eddie’s face while he watches you gape between his hands. You whine when his finger prods at you, a hiss leaving your lips when he eats the cum from both of your holes.

Then, he slurps. Loud.

Definitely going to hell.

“Fuck.” You let out a breathy chuckle, pressing the heels of your hands into your eyes to stop seeing the fucking stars that keep pulsing in your vision. 

Unable to support yourself, you lazily collapse between the lanky bodies of Steve and Eddie, long limbs tangling with yours.

Steve kisses your temple, nuzzling his face under your chin. “Better than Brad?”

Silly boy.

You laugh again, harder this time, almost forgetting how sore your lower muscles are when Steve presses the curve of your nose against your neck and Eddie casually slings an arm over your stomach like he hadn’t just fucked your ass. “Better than Brad.”

“Thought his name was Matt.” Eddie huffs, tracing the blossoming hickey on your hip.

You glance at either of them, bringing your hands up to stroke their flushed cheeks before you’re giving them a gentle peck on the buttons of their noses. “I could give less of a fuck about Matt.”

“Good.”

“Can we please go get dinner now? You know, to celebrate my return and everything.”

Steve and Eddie collectively groan, burying themselves closer against you with sleepy eyes and sweaty skin.

“Just a little longer.”

“Eddie…”

“Meh.”

“Steve…”

“Nope.”

Theirs. Theirs. Theirs.

And it’s then — between your best friends’ naked and warm bodies, freckled skin and D&D-themed tattoos, soft long hair and thick romantic curls, moles and scars, the sun on your left and the moon on your right, the lingering kiss to your shoulder and the swirling fingers on your thigh — that you realize that maybe, they missed you more than you missed them. 

And that maybe, you’re okay with this strange, insatiable dynamic of friendship. If you can even call it that.

After all, what are best friends for?

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #steddie x reader #steddie x you #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Remus Lupin x fem!reader requested by anon 18+

The night after a full moon always came with consequences. 

They were bruise shaped. Violet and lavender and seafoam green, littered across skin like an unwanted reminder. Scratches that would fade to new silver scars and aches and pains deep in his bones that made Remus feel sixty eight, not twenty eight. 

It was the only time he’d soak in the tub instead of taking a shower, something he’d usually deem much more proficient. But a new night came round and the threat of the moon was no longer in the sky. It made the air feel lighter and the feeling of sinking into the hot water, honey scented and filled to the brim, was overwhelmingly good. 

It was even better when you slipped in too.

Without speaking, you stood in the doorframe to the bathroom you shared with your boyfriend, overgrown plants on the window sill, steam and condensation making the tiles on the walls glitter. Remus peered at you from under his lashes, strong arms braced on each side of the old claw foot tub, head resting against the porcelain. 

You raised a brow at him, a question. You touched the hem of his shirt you’d thrown on, bare legs underneath. An offer. 

Almost immediately, Remus nodded, sitting up and playing the water lap at the sides, the only sound in the room as you walked in, taking off your shirt as you went. The plaid joined Remus’ clothes on the tiles and you hissed on entry, scalding water licking at your calves as Remus watched your bare figure, eyes sleepy but intent on catching each curve before they disappeared under the bubbles. 

You hummed as the boy reached for you, not trying to hide his need as he coaxed you onto his lap. The tub was just big enough for you to settle your thighs on the outside of his, your arms winding around his neck as you let your bare chest press against his. 

Another soft noise from your lips as Remus nosed at your cheek, an overwhelmingly affectionate thing that made your heartbeat a little faster. You smiled, turning so he could kiss your jaw, your chin. You dipped your head before he could catch your lips, brushing your lips over the fresh bruise that marred his cheekbone, the scratch on his shoulder you cleaned the night before. 

Your boy was bloodied and beaten, but he looked as pretty as ever. 

“Lemme kiss you,” Remus complained without any heat, his wet palm coming to cup your chin. “Babe.”

Your nose brushed his, gentle with him like you always were after a rough transformation. Any transformation, really. “Your poor lip,” you reminded him softly. The split in his bottom lip hadn’t stopped bleeding, still reddened when he woke up that morning, causing him grief as he tried to sip his coffee. “I’ll hurt you.”

Remus shook his head. “No, no you won’t.” His hands dropped to your waist, squeezing. He rocked his hips as well as he could under the water, in the small space. But it was enough to let you feel how hard he was, hot skin against yours, the slide and fizz of the bubbles between you. “Need you, y’know.”

You nodded, water clinging to your lashes where Remus had drawn a line across your brow, touch sweeping down the apple of your cheek, the slope of your jaw. He kissed each part, every bit of him warm, lips included. “I know,” you told him. 

So you rose onto your knees, one hand on Remus’ shoulders so you could steady yourself and the boy made soft gasping noises as you lined his cock up between your thighs, the head of him pressed to your cunt. You didn’t ask for his fingers first, none of the teasing he’d normally insist on before you took all of him. You wanted that stretch, the tight, hot burn of it. A little bit of pain clashed with the pleasure and you groaned as you sunk down, your noise levelling out to nothing, lips parted as you watched Remus fill you up. 

His hands were still on your hips, tighter than ever as he tried to keep himself together, head falling back to the rim of the tub, fighting to keep his eyes open. His thumbs were pushing circles into the soft of your tummy, his jaw clenching before his mouth dropped open in a punch out breath. 

When you were finally seated back on his lap, his cock snug inside of you, you swept a damp hand over his hair, pushing back the mess of curls so you could see his eyes. Full of adoration, an astounding amount of love that made you ache. 

“Yeah?” You asked him. You weren’t sure what the question was, but Remus seemed to understand, because he swallowed thickly and nodded. 

“Yeah,” he agreed. 

The water sloshed around you when you moved, lifting slightly onto your knees again, only just, before you sank back down. Small waves on the side of the bathtub, water rippling around you both that would surely end up on the floor but you didn’t care. Remus let out a groan as you rode him, each movement slow and deliberate and you could feel every inch, every ridge of his cock. It made you teary, how full you felt and maybe Remus could sense it, ‘cause he sat forward and gathered you in his arms, ignoring the throb from each bruise. 

If he had you, it was fine. It was bearable. More than bearable. 

“You’re so good to me,” he whispered, ducking his head to mouth at your chest, tongue finding a nipple so he could lick broad stripes over it. “You’re so fucking perfect, sweetheart.”

On a normal day, you’d protest, bashful and hot in the cheeks. But you could only whine as Remus dropped his hands to your ass and squeezed, coaxing you to rock yourself over him. Water and bubbles spilled over the edge of the bath, but neither of you cared. The boy moaned into your neck, sucked bruises onto your skin that would match his, pulling at your ass cheeks until his wandering fingertips could feel where he was slipping in and out of you, the pink, wet parts of you that was stretched tightly around him. It made his hips stutter, it made him sink his teeth into the slope of your shoulder. 

“M’not gonna last,” he admitted, his energy was already gone. He’d hardly slept. But this? He needed this. “M’sorry, fuck, you feel so good, sweetheart.”

You nodded, hands running over his hair, his neck, his jaw, holding him there so you could kiss him as gently as possible. You whispered, voice soft, “s’okay, handsome. Come for me, yeah? Come inside me, okay? Want to feel you.”

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fic #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin smut #remus lupin x reader smut #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin blurb #the marauders #remus baby blurb

[aerynwrites]

Fear of Losing You

Dammon x GN!Reader

A/N: Had this idea and realized it would work perfectly as a part 2 to Emeralds! I hope you all enjoy!

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: angst, talks of death, fear of death, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff, kissing, Dammon is once again a sweetheart and I love him.

Part 1

His screams are the only thing you can hear. 

His screams among the dozens of others filling the air. You can’t even see what’s happening, darkness filling your vision as you search blindly for him. 

“Dammon!” 

You scream his name, desperate to find him, but it only echoes around you, never receiving an answer. 

Swords clashing, more screaming, the iron tang of blood flooding your tongue. 

What’s happening? Where’s Dammon? What’s going on?  

A frantic call of your name has you spinning, that blackness nearly suffocating you as you search blindly for the man calling your name. 

He sounds scared. He sounds scared and hurt and you can’t see anything- 

Another call of your name is what finally jerks you awake, the all consuming blackness giving way to the familiar darkness of nighttime at camp. 

You’re shaking, sweat making your clothes cling uncomfortably to your skin as you take in your surroundings. 

Gale sits in front of you on your bedroll by the fire, brows pinched in concern as he gazes at you. His hand on your shoulder squeezes gently as you try to get your bearings, your other companions looking on in worry. 

“You were having a nightmare,” Gale says softly. “Are you alright?” 

You nod your head, bringing a shaking hand up to rest against your forehead.

“I’m fine I…” you shrug his hand off. “Something just feels…wrong.” 

“Such is the way of the shadow cursed lands,” Halsin says from across the fire, arms crossed pensively over his chest. “The shadow magic here affects more than just the creatures it creates. I’m sure when we reach Last Light, we may find some solace.” 

You nod despite the deep pit of anxiety settling in your stomach. 

“Yeah…you’re probably right.” 

You give a small thanks to Gale before laying back down and turning your back to the fire, knowing no sleep will come to you. Not with the fear of those terrible screams returning.

When morning comes, you’re already on your feet and gearing up for the trip to Last Light. You’d spent most of your sleepless night finding the best route to the inn the Harper’s had marked on your map, and once everyone was ready, you head out. 

You had tried all night to ease the pit of dread that formed in your stomach, but nothing helped. 

It’s as if you could sense that something was wrong. Something more than the evil that cursed these lands. And your mind would not stop going back to that dream. To Dammon’s screams…

“Oh, gods…”  

Shadowheart’s murmured gasp pulls you from your thoughts and the map you are currently looking at, coming to a stop as the group does. You’ve barely blinked when the map falls from your hands, utter fear gripping your heart as you see what caused even the sharran to pause. 

It’s the refugees. The tieflings from the grove. 

Dozens of them lay slaughtered in an open field in front of you, and before you can think better of it, you’re darting towards the massacre and out of the safety of the light Karlach holds. 

You faintly registered muttered curses and calls of your name as your companions chase after you, but you don’t care. All you can do is scan each body you pass, hoping and praying with each one that you don’t see his body among them. 

You see dozens of faces, some familiar and some not, but you know for certain they were from the grove. And with each one you find that isn’t Dammon you feel equal parts relief and dread. 

Until your eyes land on an all too familiar green scarf caught in the branches of a bush on the side of the path. It flutters weakly in the bitter breeze constant to these cursed lands, the only source of color besides the blood soaking into the ground. 

You stumble over towards the item slowly, reaching out and clutching the soft material between shaking fingers. Pulling it free form the tangled branches, you hold the fabric up to your nose, confirming what you already know. 

It’s Dammon’s. 

It still smells like him. Like burnt metal, smoke, and the subtle sweet spice cinnamon.

A cry works its way past your lips before you can stop it, and Shadowheart just barely manages to catch you before your knees buckle. 

“He’s…it’s Dammons,” you tell the others, tears already wetting your lashes. “They…they’re all dead.”  

The last word is choked out and you can feel a torrent of tears ready to follow, but Karlach steps forward, getting down on one knee beside you. 

“Don’t lose hope,” she says, voice firm. “He isn’t here, you looked remember? We haven’t found him yet, and this-“ she gestures to the scarf in your hands. “He could have gotten away.” 

You nod as her words sink in, the fear subsiding ever so slightly, but still gripping your heart. 

“Y-yes I suppose…” you trail off, looking back down at the scarf in your hand before wrapping it tightly around your knuckles. “We should push on to Last Light, maybe they…maybe they know something.” 

The rest of your companions mutter small agreements, as well as words of hope. Even Astarion places a gentle hand on your back, saying something about how Dammon wouldn’t go out that easy. 

The last leg of the journey to the inn feel like eons, each step feeling like a mile and each turn and bend looking the same as the last. 

Despite Karlachs encouraging words, you can’t stop the sorrow from clogging your throat. 

It feels foolish really - you and Dammon hadn’t even really started your relationship and yet here you are… mourning him. 

You try not to let the darker thoughts creep in. The thoughts of what his last moments were like. If he was afraid or angry or… scared . Did he think of you? Was he in pain? 

You let out a shuddering sigh as you turn the last corner, a cobblestone bridge coming into view, revealing a large dome of what looks like pure moonlight. 

This must be Last Light Inn. 

You just hope it holds what you so desperately yearn for. But just as you cross the bridge into courtyard, you’re stopped by two Harper guards. 

“Halt! Keep your hands off your weapons!” The woman says, drawing her own. 

You hold your hands up as you approach, your companions following suit behind you. 

“Who are you?” The guard asks, her crossbow at the ready. 

You introduce yourself as a friend of Halsin’s, before jumping into your more pressing concern.

“We’re just looking for someone,” you tell them. “Please, we just - I need to see if they’re here.” 

The woman regards you for a moment before dropping her weapon. “A friend of Halsin’s? She will want to see you. Come.” 

You cast a wary glance at your companions before following the guard, your desire to get more information winning out against any caution. You follow them further into the courtyard, watching as they approach a woman with long ashen hair. 

She turns to face you upon your approach, lips turned downward and eyes pinched distrustingly. 

Before you have a moment to speak, the woman reaches down towards the ground magic erupting from her palm as vines explode from the ground to wrap around your legs, leaving you immobile. 

You panic, tugging uselessly at the tendrils as you glance up at her. 

“We mean no harm!” You say, hysteria rising. 

You don’t have time for this! You need to find Dammon- 

The woman regards you coolly, “We will see soon enough.” 

Using her free hand she reaches behind her to produce a small jar, holding none other than a tadpole. You watch as the creature squirms, knocking against the glass as your mind pulses with familiarity. 

“This is why we’re here you see?” The woman says. “If there’s one thing we know about these creatures, it’s that they know their own kind.” 

She looks to you then, tucking the tadpole away in favor of unsheathing her dagger. 

“You never should have come here, True Soul.” 

Your heart rate spikes, and you hear your companions ready their weapons behind you. 

“No! Please , you don’t understand! We’re not true souls we -“ you can feel your tears threatening to spill over. All of your emotions from mere moments ago to now proving to be too much. “I’m just trying to find someone, please-“  

A faint call of your name causes everyone to pause, and your heart stops as you hear a commotion from the back of the gathered crowd. 

Bodies are pushed to the side, grumbled complaints silenced as the person comes into view. 

“Stop!” Dammon calls, wide eyes settling on you. “They are the saviors of the grove, they aren’t the people you’re hunting.” 

“Dammon…” 

Everything else falls away then, the surprised murmurs, the muttered orders of the  woman questioning you. All that remains is the man before you, the man you thought you lost. 

He looks the same as when you last saw him, sans his signature emerald scarf. But there, sitting against his chest is that all too familiar silver and green emerald pendant. 

The necklace you gave him. 

You don’t even realize the vines have receded from your legs until you’re stumbling towards Dammon, the tears finally streaming down your face as you all but fall into his waiting arms. 

“I thought you were dead,” you tell him, voice so quiet you’re sure only he can hear. 

His arms wrap around you tightly, holding you securely to him as his lips fall to press into the crown of your head. 

“I’m alright, I’m okay,” he tells you, voice soft as he holds you in his arms. 

You faintly hear the woman who interrogated you invite your companions inside to discuss things further, thankfully allowing you a moment with Dammon, who slowly starts to lead you away from the crowd. 

He leads you to a small stone building off to the side of the inn, the warmth from the glowing forge offering you some form of solace as you both come to a stop. 

Slowly, Dammon reaches up to cup your face in his hands, urging you to look up at him, bright blue eyes searching your face. His brows are pulled together in concern, his thumbs wiping gently at the tears on your cheeks. 

“What happened?” He asks. 

Your lower lip wobbles, the tumultuous waves of emotions from earlier rushing back. 

“I kept having this terrible feeling,” you begin, sniffing lightly. “Then when we were on our way here we saw…we saw the refugees and they-“ you force down a sob. “I thought you - I saw you scarf, and even though I didn’t see you, I thought the worst and I-“ 

“ Shhh…”  

Dammon shushes you gently, pulling you back into his arms as more tears spill forth. “I was among the people you saw…we were ambushed. But me and several others were able to escape and make it here.” 

He pulls away from you once more, eyes soft. “We’re alive, I’m alive. And I don’t plan on going anywhere.” 

His words are so sure and full of conviction as if he plans to survive against the odds on sheer will alone. 

Before you can think better of it, you lean forward capturing his lips with your own, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly. 

There’s only a moment's hesitation before Dammon responds, one hand cradling your cheek while the other slips down to wrap around your waist to pull you closer to him. 

His lips move against yours gently, as if silently reassuring you that he’s here and he’s alive.  

He’s the first to pull away, but not before pressing a few parting kisses to your cheek and forehead before tugging you towards the back of the forge. 

You follow silently, taking in the small stall he leads you to. It’s clean, the straw looking fresh and the bedroll tucked in the back corner making you raise your brows. 

“You sleep here?” You ask, not missing the way Dammon’s cheeks turn just a tad darker. 

He nods, pulling you down beside him as he sits on his bedroll, his arm slipping around your waist as you take your place beside him. 

“Figured it’s easier this way - I keep odd hours so it’s nice to have a place close to my work.” 

For the first time in days you smile. Albiet small, but genuine smile as you turn to look at your blacksmith. 

“Why does that not surprise me?” You say, relishing in the way he smiles back at you. 

It’s then as you look at him, that you remember the scarf wrapped tightly around your hand. You look down, unwinding the fabric from you before holding it up. 

“You’re missing something,” you say softly, reaching out towards him. “May I?” 

Dammon smiles again, eyes twinkling in the orange glow of the forge. “I’d love nothing more.” 

You reach forward, slowly wrapping the soft viridescent fabric around his neck before tucking the ends beneath his leather vest. You then reach up and tug the delicate silver chain from beneath the scarf, letting it and the emerald pendants at its end rest on top. 

You thumb the pendant between your fingers, eyes flicking up to Dammon. 

“You still wear it,” you say, voice whisper soft. 

Dammon nods, reaching out to brush his fingers against the dagger holstered at your hip. “And you still carry this.” 

You smile, leaning forward so your nose just barely brushes his own. “So we always carry a piece of each other, right?” 

Dammon smiles, lips brushing yours. “Always.” 

Then he’s kissing you again, lips full of promises and so much more. 

#Dammon x reader #bg3 Dammon x reader #bg3 x reader #bg3 Dammon #bg3 #Dammon

[reversedumbrella]

teruki week 2024: happy birthday teruki

image description:

[ID: a five page comic for teruki week day 7: birthday. the first 3 pages happen inside a clothing shop's dressing room, where teru is trying multiple outfits while out of view mob comments on them. the first two outfits were inspired by teruki week day 1: fire/electricity. on the first fit, teru wears a top with a flame on it and fluffy long sleeves colored orange and yellow. his pants have five sections, each with flame designs. one red, one orange, one green, one blue and one purple. teru is wearing flipflops. mob comments "colorful." on the second fit, teru wears a green long sleeve shirt, a vest made out of fake lightning bolts, pants made out red, blue and black electric cables and boots. mob comments "zappy."

mob sits on a benchon the dressing room, right by him his flip phone is ringing. mob says "those look really good. anything else, Hanazawa". out of viwe teru replies "PLENTY! and with this years birthday money I might be able to take it all home!"

the second two outfits were inspired by teruki week day 2: school/festival. on the first fit teru is wearing a torn version of his school uniform. he smiles while rocking his head back and forth. mob comments "rock n' roll". on the second fit teru wears viana do Castelo's typical women clothing, nowadays just worn for an anual parade. red cloth on his head, large golden earings and necklaces. red shawl over a white shirl. large red apron over a black skirt. white socks and black shoes. mob comments "wow."

the third two outfits were inspired by teruki week day 3: star/copy. on the first fit teru wears a sparkly five point star around his head, star sunglasses, a pink top, jeans with two big sparkly stars over each knee and a lot of small stars all over, pink high heels. he wears bracelets similar to his head apparatus. mob comments "shinny." on the second fit there are two teru's each wearing outfits only differing in color, with only the shorts being the same. a top over a t-shirt over a long-sleeve shirt. shorts over leggings and sneakers. mob comments "maybe the shorts on the left…"

mob is sitting on the dressing room bench. his phone is either still ringing or ringing again. up to interpretation.

the fourth two outfits were inspired by teruki week day 4: official art/omake. the first fit comes from official art. purple and blue cap, green jacket over a white shirt with a lemon pattern. red shorts over greyscale camouflage leggings. green and yellow sneakers. none of these colors go well together. mob comments "fun." on the second fit teru is wearing a beach outfit. shirtless with blue beach shorts and green sandals. he has colorful necklaces and bracelets. with his right he's grabbing abucket with a shovel inside. on his head he's balancing a beach ball wearing heart sunglasses. mob comments "careful"

the fifth two outfits were inspired by teruki week day 5: hair/trauma. in the first fit teru is wearing a crazy wig that covers his upperbody and arms. it has four ponytails and is covered in braids. it also gives him a large moustache. he's wearing red leggings and green shoes. mob comments "hairy". the second fit is a brocolli and boots. both meet at his calves. his arms are free but his hands have smaller brocolli over them. this is the only fit mob doesn't comment on.

mob is sitting on the bench when teruki grabs him while saying "C'MON". mob replies "huh?!" and teru answers "you didn't really though i was buying just for me?!"

the last outfit was inspired by teruki week day 6: protagonist/rival. mob is the one wearing it. mob's outfit is a clash of colors and patterns. sweater with a star design around the neck. the neck is red, the star is orange and the rest of the sweater is yellow ith green stripes and dots. pink bell bottoms with bright pink stars. teru is showering mob in compliments. he drowns himself in dread thinking "i should have known kageyama-kun would have looked amazing regardless of what he wears. those clothes are too bold even for me but he dawns the clothes i picked with such ease. i have lost again. he is my rival even in fashion sense. there is no way i could have ever won against him…"

the next two apges are the aftermath of the shopping spree. mob and teru laugh and walk with multiple bags, teru carrying two and mob carrying the rest on his arms. happy, teru looks up and then at mob. he says "thank you for getting some time to spend on my birthday with me. i know you have a busy life". mob blushes and turns away saying " no problem. i like spending time with you…" mob phone rings again. teru points at it and says: "there goes your phone again". mob makes all his left arm bag levitate and uses it to open the phone. mob clarifies "just master reigen. there'sa complicated client . he keeps texting in case i need to go there" out of view teru comments "it's nice he calls in advance" to wich mob throws a side-eye. mob looks surprised at his phone, grabs teru and screams "we have to go!!" mob and teru run with the bags floating around them. teru goes up the satirs to reigen's office. out of view mob says "prepare for anything!" teru grabs the door handle and opens the door. inside reigen, serizawa, tome, ritsu and the awakening lab kids scream "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!" reigen is holding a cake with 15 candles. end ID]

#i've been working on this all week #im so tired #i should work more on the last panel #but my juices ran dry tuesday #mp100 #teruki hanazawa #shigeo kageyama #terumob #terukiweek #terukiweek2024 #please tell me how to improve with image descriptions

[lovehealsandlovehurts]

My good girls

wandanat x reader

pic mine

Warnings: mommy kink, dumbification, fingering, clit play, strap on, cum filled strap on, oral, exhibitionism, crying (not sad) mention of spanking, mentions of sucking on a strap on, mentions of neck bulge from a strap on, big use of pet names, praise, humiliation kink but towards nat, finger sucking ( towards nat), aftercare 

Word count: 4.2k

summary: Wanda comes home after dealing with Natasha being a brat, and decides to reward you for being her good girl while making her watch.

notes: I imagined Wanda & Natasha to look like they do in the pic^, lmk if I missed any warnings!!

seems long but it doesn't feel like it!

You found yourself laying on your stomach on the mattress, feeling the cold sheets become warmer at the heat of your body. It wasn’t often Wanda made you stay in this position, she liked looking at you, paying attention to your facial expression changing as she set her fingers or toys into you, but today turned out to be different. 

You and Natasha were both Wandas loyal puppies, taking care of each other while she was away, only if you had her permission. Today you impatiently waited for Wanda to come home, she was running later than usual but you decided to be good for her and wait, holding yourself back from calling her. She didn’t like to text you too much when she was at work, it would often just make her unfocused and melancholy, knowing her girls were at home alone. 

Natasha on the other hand had quite the temperament. She sent Wanda pics of her with her legs spread, wearing the pink underwear Wanda got for both of you. She giggled, taking pictures of you laying in bed next to her, your buttcheeks uncovered, face in the pillow, snuggling into your blankie. You didn’t mind her doing so, she was so cute, so eager to misbehave. You tried to be good and warn her, telling her the teasing would not make Wanda happy, but Natasha didn’t listen. She sent her more messages, voice memos of her with her sleepy voice, saying how much you and her missed their mommy. She was always a brat, sometimes you wondered if it was because she secretly loved all the punishment Wanda gave her. You grunted, giving up on offering your advice to her. Nat became more sleepy with time, and you curled up to the blanket next to her, and the plushies left in your bed.

Wanda got back home a few hours later, you could tell by seeing the headlights of her car beam through the window. You heard her opening the door and making her way to the bathroom. She usually liked to take her makeup off before she went to bed, and get changed into comfortable clothes.

Wanda finally came to the bedroom, searching for both you and Natasha. She wore an oversized see-through shirt, one that made it hard for you not to stare. Her eyebrows lifted, seeing you were still awake, she studied your gaze as she came closer. You suddenly felt awake in her presence. She looked so beautiful at night, the moonlight coming from the windows made her face glow, highlighting the green in her eyes. 

“Hi, my baby” Wanda whispered, setting a kiss on your forehead. You loved her little displays of affection. Gentle kisses on the cheeks, tight hugs, and words of affirmation.

“I’ve missed you so much,” she said, resting the palm of her hand on your cheek. Her hands felt cold from the outside air, as they pressed against your hot body. You melted under her touch, looking up at her most obediently. 

Natasha’s eyes were already closed, and you were surprised she didn’t wake up, after hearing Wanda's voice. "Do you want a special treat from mommy? or are you too sleepy?” she asked, her tone sweet and caring. You knew she was referring to her strap, as that is what she usually called it, she always found silly ways to name things, finding pleasure in you guessing what she meant. You instantly nodded, not wanting her to change her mind. She always wanted to make sure both of you got your beauty rest. “Good girl” Wanda whispered, clashing her lips with yours. They tasted like worn-out lipstick and a hint of mint, from what you guessed was mouthwash. 

She went to look for her strap, opening the drawers, and thinking about picking the right size. At first, Wanda used small straps on you, stretching you out and training you so you could take her biggest one. You weren’t there yet but you definitely made lots of progress. You waited in bed, watching her and sliding the covers off of your body. Wanda came back with a purple strap attached, looking at you with a grin on her face. She glanced over at Natasha sleeping. The girl was laying on her back, her head facing both of you. She looked so pretty lying there, innocent and unaware of what was happening. “Do you want me to wake her up?” you asked, wanting to be good for Wanda, and feeling bad for what Natasha was missing. 

Wanda smiled, looking down at you, as she stood at the side of your bed. She stroked her cock with her hand, trying to warm it up with the heat of her hands. It was average length but its thickness made you clench your legs together. 

“No baby, she’s been a bad girl today, let her sleep,” Wanda said, pulling out her arm towards you. You leaned forward and grabbed her hand. You loved it when she guided you through everything, set you up in her favorite position, dressed you up however she wanted, told you how to achieve something you wanted. You liked being her mindless little doll, too drunk off her love to make your own decisions. She put her hand on your chest, helping you to lie down. You leaned your head back on the pillow as she climbed on the bed.

 She looked so perfect, her brown hair falling onto her face, covering her perky big breasts. You wanted to reach underneath her shirt and grab them into your hands, but you were too enthralled by her by your side. Wanda looked up at you and slid your panties off, letting them drop into the floor. She instantly set her finger between your folds, and you grew wet under her touch. She ran it up and down your clit, watching your body tremble. She enjoyed teasing you, seeing you become a whiny mess under her. You couldn’t help but moan, feeling her fingers toy with your swollen nub. “Shh, be quiet, don’t wake up Natty,” she said, finally slipping a finger into you. You did everything you could to stop yourself from becoming louder, feeling her move into you carefully. Her moves were slow but harsh, pushing into you firmly. You saw a soft smile form on her face as she watched you take her in. “So tight, mommy needs to stretch you out, get you nice and ready,” she said, adding another finger in. You couldn’t help but let out a gasp, your pussy quickly adjusting to the sudden change. 

You noticed Natasha opening up her eyes, she looked like she had just woken up from a dream, wondering if what she was seeing was real. “Oh,” she whispered, seeing Wanda burying her fingers inside of you, her face realizing this was actually happening.

“Hello, sweet girl,” Wanda said, taking her fingers out of you. She placed them in Natasha's mouth, seeing her instantly suck on them. The sight of her tasting you off her fingers made you tingle. 

Wanda studied the girl's sleepy face, pushing her hand deeper down her throat. She watched her saliva slobber down the corners of her lips. A spark of joy ran through her eyes, seeing Nat take her fingers in. She loved doing whatever she wanted with her girls. “You’ve been bad today, mommy just wants you to sit and watch like a good pet, okay?” she asked, taking her fingers out of Natasha's mouth, her spit dripping further down to her chin. You thought Natasha would protest, embrace her rebel side but she looked at Wanda hypnotized. Her green eyes were still waking up from the sleepiness. She nodded, seeing Wanda come back to you. 

“Lay on your stomach” Wanda ordered, moving on top of you. You listened to her orders, seeing her wrap her hands around your waist and help you shift in her desired position. You stared up to see Natasha in front of you, she looked so beautiful, her face was so delicate, her tiny nose, big beautiful eyes, blonde messy hair, and flawless lips. 

"Nat, put your hand behind your back and keep them there” Wanda ordered, moving her fingers through your back. She let her nails run across your skin, surprisingly not ticking you while she was at it. Her delicate touch only made you want her more. You were used to her teasing, putting you in a mindless state before properly touching you. 

She finally slipped the tip of her toy inside of you and you gasped, feeling it stretch you out. You thought with all the training it would get easier but you still need more time before adjusting to it. 

“You can take it baby, make mommy proud,” Wanda said, slowly moving into you, the heat of her body merging with yours. You felt the strap breaching through your walls, dilating them as she pushed deeper, thankfully you were wet enough so that it slipped into you easily. You swallowed your spit, hoping your body would relax with time and her gradually pushing into you. 

"You're doing so good, my good girl" Wanda said, fully burying her cock into you. You let out a soft cry, noticing your view become blurred by tears. They formed in your eyes but haven’t rolled down your cheeks just yet. Hearing her words only made you calm. She always managed to convince you that you can do anything. Her soft-spoken voice worked like a spell on you, instantly making you forget about anything else but her. 

"Doesn't it feel good, being full of mommy's cock?" She asked, keeping her strap deep inside of you, she let it sit there for a little bit, letting your walls adapt to its size. You wanted to answer but you couldn't, your brain was in such a fragile state, solely focused on the way she felt between your legs. Wanda carefully moved her cock out of you, before quickly sliding it back in. You moaned at the quickness of her movement, burying your face in the mattress. 

You heard Natasha sigh, she was sitting fairly close to you. You wanted to lift your head and look at her but you were overtaken by Wanda slowly moving in and out of you, her strap violating your hole. Wanda pulled your head up, wrapping her hand around your chin and forcing you to look at Natasha. “Look at her baby, show her what she’s missing,” she said, fucking into you. You watched Nats' legs pressing onto one another, her eyes glued onto you, occasionally looking up at Wanda. You’ve seen her punish Nat before, but not like this. 

She always spanked both of you over her knee, one after the other, either with the hand of her belt, leaving your skin all red. She kissed it gently after, apologizing and praising you both for taking your punishment so well. One time she made you clean her strap after fucking Natasha. She took it slow at first, stroking your hair and guiding you through it, telling you how good you were and how she loved using your cute little mouth. She ordered you to look up at her, watching the outline of her cock push through your neck. It was just a matter of time before her hips started thrusting into you, bruising your throat. You did your best not to cry, hearing her moan and praise you, but eventually, the tears came, and you battled through your gag reflex to keep her happy. 

Wanda didn’t like punishing any of you, but if you misbehaved she took pleasure in it, coming up with the most creative ideas. This was a new one, you wanted to feel bad for Nat but you couldn’t, you were completely overwhelmed by Wanda's every thrust, filling you up and hitting the back of your inner wall, making your brain feel dizzy. After a while your walls became relaxed, creaming onto the big object tearing them apart. You weren’t used to taking her strap in this way, you never would have imagined that it would feel so good. You felt so full, the position only making you feel like she had more ownership over you. Your eyes kept closing as you felt pleasure and pain blending into each other with her every motion, but you forced them open, wanting to be good for your mommy.

“Wanda, please” Natasha whispered, watching her move into you. Her eyes looked so glossy, almost as if she was about to cry. You noticed the girl shifting her thighs more and more, trying to get rid of the wetness and tingles that came from watching you. 

“Manners baby” Wanda answered, her hand held onto your hair for support, so you wouldn’t have to stretch your muscles to look up at Nat. You were surprised she was focused enough to let the words out without mumbling, seeing how she was simultaneously wrecking you.  

“Please mommy,” Natasha said, keeping her hands on her back as Wanda instructed. She was amazing at following orders, you often didn't do as well as she did. Wanda had to keep telling you what to do, calling you her innocent dumb baby while she was at it. She often repeated her words over and over, seeing your brain was so mesmerized by her you could barely follow her instructions. 

“Mommy doesn’t listen to girls who misbehave,” she told Nat, fully pounding into you. You could barely focus on their conversation, feeling high off Wanda's moves. You were sure no matter what they say, they’d end up being interrupted by your moans and cries getting in the way of words. Wanda rarely fucked you as aggressively as this, but you loved every second of it.

“Apologize,” Wanda said, fucking into your harder. You couldn’t help but whine, feeling her fill you up, she thrust into you so intensely your body moved up and down with her every move. You knew it wouldn't take long for her to dive you to the edge.

“I’m sorry mommy, I- I’ll never tease you again I’ll be good,” Natasha said, her voice almost sounding like a cry. She looked straight up at Wanda with puppy eyes, her tone low and sturdy. It sounded so seductive, that it scratched your brain. Natasha had a way of making her words sound so appealing, no matter what they were. “Say it again,” Wanda said, fucking into you harder. You opened your mouth and let out a loud cry, feeling her thickness inside of you. 

“I’m sorry, “ she kept repeating, her voice breaking into whisper with Wanda's every thrust. Her words echoed through the room, clashing with the sounds of you and Wanda's skin slapping together. You knew Nat genuinely meant every word, that it wasn’t just some show that she tried to put on to get her out of her punishment. 

“Okay baby you can touch yourself, put on a show for me and y/n” Wanda ordered, feeling satisfied from watching her struggle. You watched Natasha put her hands on her clit, moving it in circles as she watched Wanda pound into you. Her face looked so beautiful, so desperate, her hips moving, catching up to the rhythm of her wrist. She tried to match Wanda's pace with hers, her eyes shifted from looking at you to Wanda, and she moved her gaze back and forth. You wondered if she got off to the idea of fucking you, knowing Wanda liked tying a strap to her hips and making her please both of you. You felt overwhelmed, in a good way, feeling stimulated from watching Natasha and from Wanda manhandling you. 

Wanda felt your walls clench harder around her cock, feeling excited by your arousal. “That’s my good girl, only good girls get special treatment from mommy,” she said, caressing your hair, her hands were so delicate with you as her hips left you no mercy. You could tell she was smiling even though you were unable to see her face. You knew she enjoyed the image of you crumbling under her touch. “My best girl, mommy's perfect doll,” Wanda said, increasing her pace. It felt so good to be praised by her, her words never failed to make your brain all foggy, but now especially, feeling how possessive and harsh she was on you. 

You saw Natasha circling her clit harder, tears streaming down her rosy cheeks. You could tell she was close, seeing her wrist move faster and her eyes closing. You couldn’t help but bury your head in the sheets, feeling your orgasm come. Wanda pressed you down into the mattress, fucking you harder. The firm grip she had on your head only made you leak onto her strap more. You trusted her enough to know she'd lift your head up when she realized you were running out of breath.

You felt a wave of pleasure hit you between the legs, your thighs trembled as Wanda had her cock buried deep inside of you, still pushing it harder into you after you came. You felt a runny substance shoot up inside you, making you feel all sticky inside. "Mommy?" you asked softly, moving your head to the side, and resting your cheek on the sheets. She took her hand off your head, giving you space to breathe. 

Wanda usually let you know before cumming inside of you so you were surprised, but not upset at all. It felt so good, being filled up by her. “Mommy couldn't help herself, baby, had to make my girl all nice and full” Wanda whispered in your ear, pushing her strap further into you, her movements slow and steady. She had already given you enough and knew that you needed time to rest, she moved gently, letting her cum leak out of you every time she pulled away.

Wanda took her strap out of you, flipping your body on your back so you can face her. You tried to catch your breath, seeing your legs shake in front of her. Your pussy was so soaked, you were sure you made a mess of your thighs, and her strap too. She watched you cautiously, her face full of satisfaction. She loved how messy you were, and how you looked with her cum leaking out of you. 

“Natty, come clean her up,” she said, looking up at the blonde. The words sent a shiver down your spine. Natasha happily obliged, moving from where she sat to kneel down on the floor. She looked up at your legs, her hands slowly spreading them open. You always felt comfortable with her. There were many times you two took a bath together, showered, and shaved. She had seen your naked body countless times, her eyes always clandestinely admiring you, sometimes she’d even tell you so, while running her finger through your shoulder, whispering: “you’re so pretty”

Nat set her mouth on your pussy and licked up the liquid leaking out of it. She put her tongue inside of you, tasting your juices and the white substance. Your holes were so stretched out that her tongue felt delicate and warm, not as intense as you expected. You couldn’t help but look down at her, seeing her pretty face between your legs. The image of it made you tingle, resulting in your clit throbbing at the sight. You saw Wanda grab onto her hair, guiding her head towards your spot.

“Suck” Wanda whispered as you felt Natasha sucking your clit immediately. Your clit was way more sensitive than your pussy. Her tongue felt so good on it, twisting around it as she moved her head from side to side. You gripped the sheets into your hands, letting out a soft cry. She sucked on your nub while supporting it with her tongue, her lips latched on to it, not wanting to let go. You couldn't help but press your thighs together, trapping her face between your legs. “That’s a good girl” Wanda praised her, seeing her do her absolute best eating you out. Nat was so good at it, considering Wanda trained her to be a good puppy so she could please her whenever she liked. She’d often sit on her face, or make Nat satisfy her while standing, or sitting on her desk. She enjoyed seeing how good she’s gotten at every position. 

Nat ate you out so flawlessly, speeding up her pace and slowing down, sending you over the edge. You felt your brain getting hot, shivers running down your spice and she was glued onto you. “Make her cum for me,” Wanda said, her hand still holding onto Natasha's hair. She followed her order, doing everything to please you. 

You couldn't help but let out a loud shout, crying from the pleasure she was giving you, your thighs shook uncontrollably and you knew you wouldn’t be able to take control of them. You buried your face in your hands, whining into them as the sweet orgasm ravaged your body. 

“My baby” Wanda cooed, watching your face. You could hear the love and gentleness in her voice, you knew she was proud of you, and you didn’t even need to hear her say it. 

“Nat go give her a kiss” she ordered and Natasha climbed on top of you. You took your hands off your face, seeing her move closer to your lips. 

God, she was breathtaking, her face was so stunning, you could stare at it for hours. She gently pressed her lips against yours, they were so puffy and wet, you couldn't help but push your tongue inside her mouth, tasting yourself off of it. You needed to feel comforted after getting so harshly fucked and her touch did that to you. Her skin was so soft, laying on top of yours, her body fitting perfectly on top of you. You wondered why you haven’t kissed her like this before, it felt so right, your heart was burning with desire. 

“My good girls” you heard Wanda's voice, her approval only made you more turned on. Natasha bit on your lip so harshly you wondered if it would feel sore the next day. Her kisses were so intoxicating, that they made you want to lose your mind. You kissed for a while, completely forgetting about anything else. You eventually stopped, catching a breath, Wanda sat on the bed, her pupils big, watching you. She whipped the smirk off her face by biting her lip. “You make mommy so wet by kissing each other, you know that right?” she said, referring to both of you. You nodded your face, looking up at her, in the corner of your eye, you could see Nat smirking.

“Come to mommy,” Wanda said looking up at Natasha, she crawled on the bed towards her, burying her face in her neck. She looked so pure, wrapping her arms around Wanda. “You have to behave when mommy tells you to okay?” she asked, feeling Nat hold onto her so dearly. “Okay,” she whispered. It was a comforting sight, you didn’t feel jealous of her at all, you knew Nat needed to be held after being left untouched so you let her take up her space, laying on the bed and trying to recover. 

Wanda moved closer to you, she lowered herself down and kissed your lips. Their kisses were so different. Natashas were hungry, intense, and starved out. She always moved fast, burying her mouth in yours eagerly. Wanda's were slow and sloppy, delicate and calculated, giving you the time and space to drown in them. “You did so good baby, so good” Wanda said kissing the corners of your lips, her touch only made you weak. “Mommy's perfect girl” she kept repeating, laying sweet kisses all over your cheeks. 

After catching your breath you curled up to Wanda's side, feeling her arm wrap around you. Natasha was laying next to her, the girl's eyes becoming sleepier with every minute. She shifted away from Wanda's side, laying on her back. You could see her get comfortable on the bed, her legs and arms taking up most of the space. The heat of three bodies next to each other often made you feel too hot, you uncovered herself, wanting to cool off, but not leaving Wanda's side. You could never let her go, not even in bed. You loved feeling her touch, especially after she’s been away. “Go to sleep bunny” Wanda whispered, her eyes closing. The little pet names she gave you always made you feel butterflies in your stomach. You couldn’t help but give her a kiss on the cheek, gently pressing your lips onto her skin. 

“You’re so cute” she whispered, her voice low and raspy, she moved her head to her side, crashing your lips with hers. Her kisses were gentle, almost like she wanted you to become sleepy underneath them, and you did. With every second you became more heavy-eyed and drowsy. 

“I’ll go to sleep now, I promise,” you said whispering, it was way too late, and you wanted her to rest as well.  “Goodnight” she whispered, and you allowed yourself to close your eyes, falling asleep by her side. 

taglist: @ripofflizzie @charlizewifey @bibliophilicbi @someone-gone @waywardtrenchcoats @unpopularopinions22 @blackthoral @lovelyy-moonlight @alssye @gkfsktf @mik3swife @marvelwomen-simp @sandyche3ks @nikkinss @alwaysgoodnight @ageofolsen @jlslvr @simpform1lfs @bananineno @boobiluvr @littlegaypersonsstuff @luciiana @lijo-8 @naslt @rogueismymilf @dilfsandtherapy @salvatwh0r3 @riveramorylunar

tags: @pettymaximoff @unpopularopinions22 @wandasdolly

if I didn't tag you it's because you must have tags off!!

there are always a bunch of usernames that want to be tagged but then Tumblr won't let me do it

#wandanat x reader #wandanat x you #wandanat x y/n #mommy wanda #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff reader smut #bratty natty #wanda x reader #natasha romanoff reader smut

[incorrectbatfam]

I h3ad cannon athat all the batfam members have had/are still in their emo/goth phases.

Example:

Bruce dressed as a bat and punches criminals at night (I also head cannon that he listens to the rolling stones and MCR)

Anyways thoughts?

Also what were the other batfam members emo/goth phases like?

Dick: He was hella neurotic in his late Robin/early Nightwing days. That plus his mullet and guitar tells me he probably tried to live out of a used van he bought for $700 after a fight with Bruce only to come home a week later when someone knocked on his window.

Jason: He's the theater/classic lit goth. When he was younger he would read by the glow of a candelabra even though the lights work perfectly fine. Post-resurrection, he graduates to the biker anarchist who has no problem launching a molotov at a CEO's mansion.

Tim: He's from the 90s. He's sitting in that Y2K grunge-emo-punk gray area where his playlist is a mix of the Clash, Nirvana, and Green Day. He's coloring his hair with Kool-Aid, playing with makeup, ripping his own clothes, and talking about new songs on AOL.

Damian: He's aiming for dark academia, but that's hard to pull off if you know what American schools look like. He annotates the margins of his books with notes he thinks are insightful but are actually just basic observations. Also he listens to Imagine Dragons.

Duke: This kid isn't emo or goth, he is a punk through and through. Sassing the cops? Jumping off a bridge? Leading a ragtag vigilante team? If he wanted to, I bet he can pull off a leather jacket with some homemade spikes while blasting Bad Brains and Death.

Cullen: Canonically, he watches anime and Supernatural, and I've made a lot of Tumblr references with him. He's definitely your quintessential 2010s emo nerd—Black Parade, fandoms, the whole shabang. He also definitely followed Dan and Phil.

Stephanie: She strikes me as the early 2000s pop-punker—think MySpace and Avril Lavigne. She probably had a Not Like Other Girls phase that she quickly grew out of. I can see her cutting posters out of magazines and sneaking her MP3 under an oversized hoodie.

Cassandra: She canonically listens to Killswitch Engage, so I like to imagine what she was like as a baby metalhead. Maybe she thrifted a Pantera shirt and chopped her hair with safety scissors. And at concerts she's absolutely up front when the wall of death happens.

Barbara: I think she dabbled in a little bit of everything without ever outwardly expressing it. Her playlist is all over the board, from softer rock to screamo. She also experimented with makeup a little, like black lipstick, and is more involved in the activism side of things.

Harper: She's definitely industrial punk with a huge emphasis on the DIY aspect of the subculture. She strings soda tabs into chains, turns old screws into boot spikes, and even learned to give herself tattoos. She also absolutely has a drawer full of patch pants.

Carrie: She's a TikTok e-girl, leaning into the pinks and purples along with black and white. She turns fishnet leggings into gloves and has a bunch of animal ear headbands. She also listens to Melanie Martinez and Tame Impala regardless of if they count as alternative.

Kate: Queer people play a huge role in the punk scene and vice versa. I can absolutely see Kate jamming out to an early Pansy Division track or searching places like Bandcamp to support smaller indie artists. Also she has a jacket that says "Nazi punks fuck off."

Alfred: Before punk and its subgenres, Alfred was canonically a delinquent and in that day, delinquency meant gelled-up hair and moving like Elvis. The hair didn't work out for him, but he was able to catch one of the first shows Buddy Holly played in London.

Selina: Alt cultures are based on not having much and working with what you got. Selina would use the five-finger discount at big-box stores and save her money to support small businesses. She also went around listening to free local rock shows on Fridays.

Bruce: He listened to the Rolling Stones before, but his first real intro to the scene was a handmade zine he found on the floor at school. From there, he explored more underground artists and took up journaling as a way to vent his feelings. And then: Batman.

#dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #duke thomas #cullen row #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #barbara gordon #harper row #carrie kelley #kate kane #alfred pennyworth #selina kyle #bruce wayne #batman #batfamily #batfam #batboys #batbros #batkids #batsiblings #batman family #dc comics #headcanon #ask #anonymous

[starshipsofstarlord]

norman reedus // daryl dixon

divider credits. @cafekitsune

🥀 = smut (18+, minors dni)

🍄 = requested

daryl dixon

Sleepless

On the farm, you struggle to fall asleep due to all the things that you know that surround you, from the walkers in the barn to Shane. The only thing that can make you feel any comfort is Daryl (1.4k)

Prisoner 🥀

(Early season 3 based) Winter had been a long journey for all of your group, especially you and Daryl given that there was always a lack of privacy. You find it difficult to feel at home in the prison, but Daryl is always there for you when you need him, and you have the chance to relish in a night alone - or as lonesome as a cell can be (2.9k)

Pretty Eyes

(Late season 2 based) throughout the outbreak, after meeting Daryl Dixon the two of you had always clashed heads. However when you reach the CDC, convinced you had been saved, you decide it’s time that you get along (1.4k) 🥀

you and daryl have reverted to your original positions, however your divide in getting along isn’t only affecting the two of you. it’s endangering the group, and so when needs must, you have to reconcile and make a truce (2.2k)

Throbbing 🥀

Daryl needs you, however you’re out on a run, so he has no other cure other than to take care of himself (0.8k)

Using You 🥀

you love him, you really do - he’s your best friend, however you’re scared if you choose to be with him you’ll lose him; you’d already lost too much. However, Daryl thinks that you’re using him to distract yourself with sex. It’s up to you to prove him wrong (2.9k)

Bemused

daryl becomes bemused by y/n and her affections towards him. also the story of how daryl ‘found’ his vest (0.6k)

How to Weaken a Man 🥀

you were going to get what you wanted, Daryl however was going to have to wait. He was deserving of a taste of his own medicine, after him constantly being in charge, it was time for a change (3.3k)

Cuddle Bunny

all you can do is reflect on the past as you sit by a tired and bedridden daryl, hellbent on not leaving his side. It seems he doesn’t want you to leave either, as you are the only person that sees him for who he is, in every light (1.3k)

Nexus to the Next Life

the cdc was supposed to be the start of continuing life, however after jenner has revealed that the haven of which you had travelled to is going to self destruct, you endure a battle with yourself. to stay and die quickly, or leave and possibly die slowly (1.2k)

Not Yet Corpses. Still, We Rot 🥀🍄

you were surviving after the prison fell, whilst you felt lost deep inside of yourself. without daryl, and the others that you had lost and yet to find, everything only seemed to get worse. and all was proven when the claimers interrupted your futile attempts of avoiding nightmares

Lap Girl

a series of unchronological scenarios of y/n being in daryl’s lap within part of their journey (part 1 - the first night in alexandria)

daryl needs comfort at the greene farm after he fails to find sophia again. luckily his girl is willing to give him exactly what he needs; her in his lap

there’s no better position for daryl than when his girl is in his lap 😉🥵 🥀

prompts and drabbles and headcanons

“I don’ have the patience ter remove yer clothes righ now.” 🥀

daryl returns from a hunt, but he doesn’t care for what he caught; he’d rather catch you beneath him (0.8k)

“thought you were mad at me.” “it’s a hate boner, i swear.”

you and daryl, despite fighting and surviving side by side for years, have always had a tendency to get on each others nerves. the one thing he hates more than your recklessness however, is seeing you hurt

nsfw alphabet 🥀

daryl pre-apocalypse dating headcanons

young!daryl dixon

surrogate comfort 🥀

daryl comes to your home, finding peace between your legs before you relieve his homeward bound struggles

norman reedus

Got a Light?

Norman goes to a bar after a long day on set, and he’s unexpectedly approached by a ‘stranger’ (1k)

Normal Morning with Norman

inspired by this prompt - early morning kiss - a kiss that’s a wake up call, it’s barely even a lips touching, more like they’re kissing your chin because they’re so tired in the early morning haze (0.5k)

[darthgloris]

Adorable

Pairing: Luke Skywalker x fem!Jedi!bi!reader

Summary: Luke and Y/N have had a special bond since she first found him unconscious on the Jundland wastes; however, their friendly thoughts about each other turn into deeper feelings soon enough, feelings that seem obvious to everyone but each other. Princess Leia has had enough of their obliviousness and, with the help of her counterpart Han Solo, decides to give them a little push in the right direction.

Warnings: set between A New Hope and Empire Strikes Back so SPOILERS, fluff, romantic tension, sexual tension, Luke being a shy and rambling mess, bi!reader

A/N: I'm writing this fic for @c4m3r4m4n, who fell in love with an idea drafted up by @dailydragon08 (to whom I give credit for the plot of the fic, thank you very much). I hope you like it :) also it's been a while since I've published, I feel like the ancient one has been awoken 💀💀

☆☆☆

"I won't go easy on you, Skywalker." Y/N taunted, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards.

"I'm not asking you to." Luke countered with a smile, followed by the hum of his igniting weapon.

She smirked at his response, hoping that the duel would take his focus off her burning cheeks. The two bowed to each other and she didn't hesitate to deliver the first blow, raising her brows in surprise at how readily he lifted the weapon in front of him to block her. Y/N smiled as her green lightsaber clashed against her sparring partner's blue one, watching him deflect every strike with a look of concentration etched onto his face.

She was proud of how far Luke had come since he first held his father's lightsaber in his hands, nearly losing a limb to inexperience. He had made staggering progress in the last few months of training: looking back at the farm boy who almost chopped his arm off on accident, she noticed how he was slowly starting to rely on the Force as well as on his abilities, how he was starting to get out of his head and stop overthinking every single movement, every action and reaction.

Her gaze moved from their lightsabers to his face, the face that she adored so much. She adored his eyes that reminded her of the midwinter sky, holding the innocence of a young boy and an ever-present mischievous twinkle; his sandy blonde hair that drooped over his eyes when he looked down in shyness, a small smile playing at his lips; and most importantly, his heart of gold, his kindness, gentleness, and selflessness-

"Maker, are you all right?!" Luke exclaimed, pulling her out of her thoughts. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to!"

Just then the pain in her hand registered in her brain, and she looked down to see a cut across her palm. It wasn't serious, just a small wound, but she found it cute that he worried so much.

"Luke, it's okay, it's just a cut," she said in an attempt to calm him. "I've hurt myself dozens of times before."

"But... but I'm the one who hurt you..." he mumbled, his sad puppy eyes looking up at her. "Come here, let me clean it."

"Really, Luke, it's fine-" she started.

"Please?" He pouted with genuine guilt in his eyes.

She couldn't say no to him. It just wasn't in her. "Okay."

He walked across the room while she sat down and he came back with a medikit. He knelt down in front of her, making her breath hitch in her throat. He started to tend to her wound carefully, holding her hand with a gentleness she had never been touched or treated with before. He dabbed a piece of cloth on her hand, looking at her in guilt whenever she flinched.

"Sorry about this," he mumbled, grabbing the disinfectant. "This is going to sting a bit."

She hissed as the chemicals dropped into her open skin while Luke mumbled apologies and soothing words.

"Oh, come on. It happens." She dismissed.

"Still, I feel bad. You know I'd never hurt you on purpose, right? Physically or otherwise." He stated.

She felt the butterflies fluttering in her stomach at the statement, the hope of her feelings towards him being reciprocated warming her heart. She mumbled an "I know" and looked at him, focused on the task at hand, his blonde locks flopping over his eyes. When he felt her gaze on him, he looked at her through his eyelashes, smiling softly at her to let her know he caught her staring. He shifted his gaze to her hand, hoping to hide the rosy blush creeping up on the apples of his cheeks, although he did so quick enough to miss her doing the same.

It was often that Luke got flustered when he was near her, and, even if he was very skilled at hiding it (at least from her), he never seemed to notice that she nearly always did the exact same thing. Every time he caught her staring, he felt his heart jump a little: it pleased him to know that she admired him, that she trusted him, that she cared for him. Whenever she would display any sort of affection towards him, he would feel a warm and tingly sensation spreading from his heart and tummy all the way to the tips of his fingers.

Luke was hopeful; most of the time he thought he was naive for believing a girl as wonderful and headstrong as Y/N could ever want a guy like him, so fragile and sensitive. He thought, no, he knew, that she was truly gorgeous, intelligent and strong-willed, and he also knew that she deserved much better than him, but he still wanted to make her happy and never once doubted his feelings for her.

"What are you thinking about?" She asked, sensing his mind wandering.

"Not much. Just..." He hesitated to finish his sentence. "...thinking about Ben. I wish I could have done something about it."

"Believe me, I do, too," she said sadly, apparently not seeing through his lie. "I miss him a lot. I can't believe I was so stupid to lose him right after I had found him again."

"Yeah, I know. He was important to you, wasn't he?" He asked tentatively, his thumb rubbing comforting circles on the uninjured areas of her hand.

"He really was. When I was a child, I adored him. When I got in trouble, I always ran to hide behind his robes, and he smiled down at me a fondness that my parents had never looked at me with. I wanted nothing more than to be his Padawan," she sighed. "But I guess it just wasn't meant to be, was it?"

"I'm so sorry... I wish I had known," Luke said, smiling sympathetically. "But Obi-Wan or not, you turned out a better Jedi than I could ever be."

She smiled sincerely at him, appreciating the compliment that came from his heart, "You're really sweet, Luke. I bet you'll make a wonderful Jedi knight, too."

He giggled shyly, averting his gaze from her once again. He thanked her in a soft, shy voice that she found so adorable she could have melted into a puddle. "There, you're all set." He said as he bandaged her hand, tying up the loose end of the gauze on her palm.

"Thanks, Luke." She said, ruffling his hair.

"You're always welcome." He replied, hiding the blush rising to his face.

In a bout of courage, she threw her arms around his neck, pressing their cheeks together. He froze for a split second before wrapping his own around her waist, pulling her closer to him and inhaling her signature coconut scent. He could get drunk on her sweet smell that made him feel at peace. As she felt him get more comfortable, a mischievous thought entered her mind. She began to tickle his open armpits, making him yelp and squirm beneath her.

"Y/N, stop!" He laughed as she straddled him, pinning his wrists to the floor with one hand and using the other to tickle his stomach. He squealed and giggled, trying to get out of her grip, and as soon as she loosened her hold on his wrists, he flipped them on the sparring mat, landing her with a soft 'thump'. He threw one leg over the other side of her waist and pinned her wrists over her head in the same fashion as her. He aimed for her sides and she squealed, turning into a giggling, squirmy mess.

"Luke! You copycat!" She shrieked through her laughter.

He laughed, too, drinking in the pure joy of the moment, and noticed her face was red from happiness and laughter, as well as his, he assumed.

"Luke, Y/N, I need you to- oh..." Leia stumbled in, cutting herself off as she saw her two friends sharing an intimate moment. "Am I interrupting something?" She smirked.

Suddenly, they were both very aware of their position. Luke's eyes widened slightly and he cleared his throat, messily getting up and fixing his hair. He helped Y/N off the ground and she dusted herself off, looking to Leia, who still had that knowing smile plastered on her face. "No! No, you're not."

"Yeah... anyway," she dragged the first word out in suspicion. "We have an impromptu meeting to be at in fifteen minutes, just enough time for you to get changed."

"All right, we'll see you there." Luke said, smiling politely at his friend and leaving the room. Y/N soon followed suit, as their rooms were fairly close, in fact opposite each other.

Leia rolled her eyes, sighing in exasperation. It was clear as day that the two of them were enamoured with one another, everyone could see it except them. She could see it in their eyes when they looked at each other, in how gentle they were with each other. They'd share so many little moments like this, yet they'd never make a move. It was infuriating, to say the least.

Leia walked out of the room and through the halls of the rebel base. She bumped into someone on her way.

"Woah, Your Highness, what's got you so upset?" Han asked, nearly sarcastically, but she chose to answer honestly.

"I just walked in on Luke and Y/N having a tickle fight," she said. "It annoys the life out of me when they act like a couple but they don't even see that they actually like each other."

"Ugh, I know. It's painfully obvious to everyone but them." He agreed.

"Hang on. Are you agreeing with me, Han Solo?" She said, not waiting for his response. "Since this is the first thing we actually agree about, care to do something about it?"

He raised his eyebrows, interested. "What did you have in mind?"

"Oh, nothing too serious, just a bit of messing with them. Maybe they'll stop being so dense." She said.

"Good idea," he nodded, giving her credit. "We start after the meeting."

"Deal."

...

Y/N smiled softly at Luke and closed the door behind her, exhausted from the meeting. She huffed a breath and looked for a shirt and pants in her wardrobe, but couldn't find a sweater for the life of her. She looked through all of her room for her favorite green sweater, under the bed, behind the door, even beneath her covers, but there was no trace of it.

She hated that it disappeared, but she decided she was going to look for it after she's had a proper rest after a two-hour-long meeting. She knocked on Luke's door, who opened it and smiled softly at her. "Hi."

"Hi. I can't find my green sweater, do you have one I could borrow?" She dared to ask. It was an intimate gesture, surely, but she wanted that nap, and the only thing that was more comfy to sleep in than her favorite sweater was a warm sweater with Luke's soothing smell all over it. "Assuming you don't need it, of course."

"Um, sure," he said, rummaging through his clothes. "Here."

He handed her a white hoodie with no zipper. It was so soft and warm, it made her cheeks flush in anticipation. She pulled it over her head and sighed at the feeling. The sleeves were a bit bigger on her, and she loved it. It felt like a warm and loving embrace. It felt like his embrace.

"Thank you, Luke, you're a sweetheart," she said and he blushed furiously, but she didn't have the energy to notice. "I'll be taking a nap now, but if you need a favor, ask me, okay?"

"Okay," his voice cracked. "Have a good nap."

She left his room with a thankful smile.

She snuggled up in her bed, wrapping her arms around herself, as if it was Luke hugging her. She breathed in his smell, making her sigh in content. The warm feeling and the soothing scent lulled her to sleep quickly enough, with the image of Luke holding her and warming her up with his body heat.

...

After letting her borrow his hoodie, Luke felt much closer to her. He fell harder for her, if that was even possible. And when he saw her snuggled up in his clothes, his brain went blank and he forgot his own name for a moment. He wanted to hug her, to warm her up and fall asleep beside her, then to wake up next to her and wake her with a soft, open-mouthed kiss to her lips.

He pushed the thought to the back of his head as he saw her heading for the same closet he was. "Hi."

"Hi. How was your nap?"

"Best nap I've ever had. Your hoodie is the most comfortable thing I've ever worn. I'll give it back right after I grab some stuff here."

"No, no, you keep it."

She felt her heart warm at his offer. "Luke, you love this hoodie..."

But I love you more. "But you're happy. And that makes me happy."

She smiled lovingly at him, "Thank you so much. Really."

"You're always welcome..." He said, hesitant to finish his sentence. "...starflower."

She turned to him and her smile widened at the nickname, a blush rising to her cheeks. She got on her tip-toes to try to reach an old book on the highest shelf, straining to try to grab it. Luke noticed her struggle and moved up to her, and with a little jump, he caught the book and handed it to her. She smiled thankfully at him and kissed his cheek softly, making him blush.

Their sweet moment was interrupted by the lock clicking. "Oh, damn it!"

Luke tried to force the door open but failed, and when he turned around to face her, he noticed how incredibly close they were. His chest nearly touched hers, and he could feel her breathing pattern as whenever her chest expanded, he could feel it brush his own.

"This is... convenient." She said, making him chuckle.

"Yeah... sorry I didn't pay more attention."

"It's not your fault."

A comfortable silence fell over them, and Y/N shifted into a more comfortable position, accidentally brushing over Luke's hips. He blushed and bit his lip at the contact. "Sorry!"

"It's- it's fine..." His voice cracked. He felt his pants tighten and he blushed a dark red, sweating a copious amount. He was already super embarrassed and ashamed about accidentally getting a hard-on, and he was fairly sure he'd die if she saw.

He shifted away to try to put some distance between them, but accidentally stepped on her foot. She flinched backwards and fell over. Luke swiftly caught her, wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her. He pulled her up gently and his forehead was nearly touching hers. He closed his eyes, savoring the closeness between them. He wanted to brush the hair away from her face and kiss her until she was breathless, but he just didn't have the courage.

How ironic: Luke Skywalker, the man who destroyed the Death Star, couldn't strap on a pair and make a move on a girl. It was laughable, really.

He decided to test the waters by sliding his hands down to her hips in a featherlight touch. She felt something brushing her thigh and her eyes widened as she realized Luke was turned on by the situation, and decided to tease him a bit.

"Luke?"

"Yeah?"

"Is this your lightsaber or are you just really happy to see me?" She asked, a teasing edge to her voice as he tried to stutter out a response.

"I- I- I... uh, um... I..." He stammered, trying to think of a way to explain himself without sounding like a pervert. "I'm so, so, so sorry, I really didn't mean to, it was an accident... I really hope you could forgive me but if you don't want to talk to me ever again, I understand, I..."

He looked so cute, flustered about something that simple. She couldn't really see him all that well, but she was sure he was blushing the darkest red possible.

"Relax, Luke, I'm just teasing you," she giggled. "It's normal. It could have happened to any guy."

"Wha..? Really?"

"Of course. Honestly, I'm a little flattered." She smiled slyly, making him whimper in embarrassment.

"Could you do me a favor?" He asked. "Could you maybe... not tell anyone about this?"

"I'd never, Luke," she cupped his cheek and gently moved his face to make him meet her eyes. "It's going to be our secret."

He smiled softly at her. "Thanks for being so understanding."

Bravely, she leaned up and kissed his nose. "No problem."

Just as Luke started to gather enough courage to lean down to kiss her, the lock started rattling. The two snapped their heads in the direction of the door as it opened to reveal Han and Chewbacca on the other side.

"What in the Maker's name are you two doing in here?"

Chewie growled suggestively.

"Shush, Fuzzball, someone locked us in here." Luke dismissed.

He growled again in an attempt to sass Luke.

...

Y/N thought back to her moment with Luke as she sat with her friends on the Falcon. The hopes of him feeling the same way about her rekindled when he got aroused, but she was almost sure that any guy would have been turned on by the closeness in that sort of situation.

Luke surprised himself at how comfortable he was with her after that awkward situation. Maybe if he was braver and not that hopeless, his arousal could have taken the status quo to the next level. After all, if there was anyone he wanted to be touched by, kissed by and held by, it was her. Everything from her soulful eyes to her intelligence, and even her plush lips made him melt-

"Kid, snap out of it!" Han called, making Luke do a double-take on the controls of the Falcon.

"Huh- what?" He blubbered, blushing.

"Could you scooch, please?" Leia asked and Luke complied, sliding onto the chair next to Y/N. He gave her a shining smile and looked at the controls. "Thanks."

Y/N reciprocated his grin, thinking back on the cuddly feeling of his hoodie cocooning her and lulling her to sleep.

"Excuse me..." Leia said and leaned over to Y/N's area to pull a lever. Luke leaned to the side and felt the back of his head rest against a soft cushioning.

"Um, Luke..." Y/N said hesitantly and Luke's eyes widened when he realized he had leaned his head on her breasts.

"Oh, stars-" he said and swiftly got up from his seat, red as a tomato and paced back and forth. "I'm sorry, Y/N, I'm sorry, I didn't do it on purpose! I would never do anything like this to you on purpose! Not that I don't find you attractive enough to- I need to lie down..."

"Kid, for fuck's sake, stop talking." Han said and Y/N chuckled at Luke's antics, shaking her head fondly. She was certainly flustered to have his head on her chest, but him trying to explain himself was too funny not to laugh at.

Meanwhile, Leia watched the scene unfold, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. She gave Han a side eye, to which he shook his head in exasperation. They had set him up so perfectly and he still managed to screw it up. "All right, I'm going to go lie down. And make sure Luke didn't die of self-loathing." She waved goodbye to her friends and walked away. As soon as she was out of earshot, Leia looked at Han, clenching her jaw.

"This isn't working. Why isn't this working?" She asked.

"I have no idea. They can't even seem to acknowledge that they both enjoyed the closest thing they ever had to sexual contact." He rolled his eyes.

"I think it's time to pull out the big guns." Leia said and Han tilted his head in curiosity.

"What do you suggest?"

"You have to come on to Y/N. And don't you stop until Luke is red with anger and wants to hit you."

"All right." He patronized, laughing at the thought of Luke trying to punch him.

...

Luke always got along with Han, but right now every word that came out of his mouth made him clench his fists, knuckles turning white.

He couldn't believe he was actually flirting with Y/N.

After encouraging him to make a move all this time, he felt betrayed and fairly angry that he was going after the love of his life even if he clearly had a thing for Leia. He didn't care if he was doing it to prove a point or he was sincerely into her, but he hated it nonetheless.

It started out small, with innocent touches paired with "trouble never looked so goddamn fine", or "I'd do anything for a woman with a knife", all of which made Luke more confused than jealous. But as it escalated into more blunt compliments and pick-up lines, he could barely holding together. At first maybe he chewed on his cheek and pretended not to listen, then he started avoiding eye contact with either of them, and he currently grumbled or growled lowly at everything he said. He was a little relieved to see her sass him in response to his comments, though, his grip on the arm of the chair faltering slightly whenever she responded in a sarcastic way.

Until he had had enough.

"Smile is the second best thing you can do with your lips."

Luke clenched his jaw so hard it could have snapped clean. He struggled to control his angry, shaky breathing as he got up and grabbed Han's arm to pull him to another room.

"Okay, what the fuck, Han!?"

"What?" He said, trying his best to hide the smirk of satisfaction that threatened to creep up on his lips.

"Cut it out. You know I like her, why are you doing this?!" He snapped.

"Maybe I recently saw the light," he shrugged. "Look, you're clearly nowhere close to making a move, so why shouldn't others take a shot?"

Luke opened his mouth to retort, and then closed it. He had a point. If he didn't do something about it, he was going to lose her. And he couldn't afford to lose her to Han. If she was going to end up with someone other than him, he'd prefer that she end up with Leia.

"Fine." He spat, storming out of the room.

He rushed to open a cupboard and grabbed a bottle of alcohol, chugging a questionable amount of it. "What are you doing?"

"I'm clearly not drunk enough to do this," he said, pulling away from the bottle. "Yum, mouthwash that burns."

Han bit back a laugh as Luke clumsily walked to Y/N and pulled her away to speak in private.

"Luke? What's going on?" She asked, not even pointing out his apparent intoxication.

"I can't- I can't do this anymore, Y/N!" He said and her brows furrowed with confusion. "I can't stand to see Han treat you like this so forgive me for going to such drastic measures to prove a point!"

"What are you-" she was cut off by Luke storming over and crashing his lips on hers with such force that she stumbled back. As his action registered in her brain, she melted into the heavenly sensation. She ran a hand through his blonde locks, earning a small gasp from him into the kiss.

As she pulled away, he chased her lips for a split second before slowly opening his eyes, half-lidded gaze shifting to the string of saliva still connecting them. "I'm sorry, I- it was a momentary lapse. But I like you. I like you a lot. And I can't stand the thought of you being with Han. And I just wanted to tell you before you make a choice."

"Oh, Luke..." she said, smiling brightly as she caressed his cheek lovingly. "I don't like Han. He's a great friend but all those pickup lines were scaring the living Force out of me."

He giggled softly, though his face dropped at her lack of response. "I... I get it." He said quietly, trying to avoid her gaze. "I'll leave you alone."

He turned around and walked to the door, shoulders slouched in defeat and she shook her head in fondness, grabbing his wrist to stop him. "Luke, you adorable, oblivious idiot."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled their noses together before giving him a softer, sweeter kiss. This time there was no desperation, no urge, no rush. Just the need to make him feel loved and make him see that she doesn't want anyone else but him.

"I, um-" he cleared his throat. "I liked that very much."

"I like you very much." She said, pecking his cheek repeatedly. He giggled like a little boy, blushing. "You seriously thought I'd pick anyone over you? And that the first person would be Han?"

"No, I thought the first person would be Leia," he said and Y/N laughed loudly. "But, yeah, pretty much."

"Normally I'd say that's not true but Leia is gorgeous," she joked and Luke laughed softly, proud to have made her laugh. "And by the way, the list goes you, Leia, literally anyone in the world, and then Han."

He smiled at her, moved by the comment and amused by the joke, and brought her closer to him.

"Why am I after Leia?"

"Because she's so much hotter than you!" She defended.

"Thanks, Y/N!" The princess called, making Luke laugh and Y/N join in.

"You wound me, Y/N." Han said in mock offense.

"Are you guys together yet?" Leia asked, walking in. Luke wrapped an arm around Y/N's waist, smiling proudly as he pulled her closer. She smiled too, leaning her head on his shoulder. "You are?!"

They both nodded, happiness flooding every single inch of them.

"That's amazing! I'm so happy for you!" She said, hugging Y/N and pecking her cheek. "Took you long enough. The way you looked at her without doing anything was becoming very frustrating." She hugged Luke and ruffled his hair.

He rolled his eyes and turned to his new girlfriend, pressing their foreheads together.

"I'm glad I did."

#star wars #star wars x reader #luke skywalker x reader #luke skywalker #han solo #princess leia

[targaryenluvs]

BIRTHDAY GIRL

pairings: eleventh doctor x fem!reader (romantic), amy pond x fem!reader, rory williams x fem!reader

summary: the chaos of your boyfriend the doctor, amy, and rory organising your birthday. but seems there’s some miscommunication and clashes when it comes to agreeing.

warnings: none! fluff, bickering between eleven rory and amy over who knows you better, kisses, hugs, short blurb

a/n: no clue why i haven’t yet written for one of my fav shows yet

you’re slumber is ruined by extremely loud voices originating in the kitchen. it wasn’t even morning in your eyes yet everyone was awake. eleven being awake made sense but rory and amy? especially amy with how cranky she gets. speaking of eleven, he wasn’t in bed.

which wasn’t odd since he quite literally didn’t need sleep but he usually got out of bed when you woke up. you’d find him reading, tossing a ball up and down, talking to himself and you, some of the more tame times. once you found him trying to do gymnastics in bed.

as you got up and made your way into the kitchen you found the three of them with a cake. “no! no! you’ve got it wrong her hair isn’t that short rory!” amy scolded as rory sighed, “i swear it is! did she not get a haircut?” amy slapped him upside the head which had the doctor laughing, “that was me you dummy. and you, quit laughing and get to icing.” the doctor raised his hands,

“ah but you see, i already have!” rory and amy’s gasps were loud. “green! you put green love hearts on the cake and- is that a hat? oh god is it a fez? and a bow tie?” amy groaned as eleven reached to adjust his own, “bow ties are cool.” the three of them spoke in unison, “i quite adore your bow tie collection eleven.” rory’s eyes widened as he realised you’d seen them. “no, no, no, no! you are not supposed to be here.”

so you wait in the living room in the meanwhile. not long after the three come in, all holding a, special cake. whilst from one side it looked gorgeous the other was a mess. you spotted a drawing of the four of you holding hands, the tardis in the background and it looked as if a five year old had drawn it.

the party in the living room has copious amounts of clashing colours and themes and they all had flour and icing on their faces and clothes. “we’re sorry for ruining it.” amy frowned, they all looked like kicked puppies and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“ruin it? i’ve got to be one of the luckiest girls around to have three people love me so much that they fought over my birthday and what to do for it. i love the cakes and the party. thank you guys. seriously.” you smiled as everyone slowly cheered up.

“you like it seriously?” rory asked as you laughed, “yes i do you idiot.” you pulled them all into a tight hug as you all laughed. you registered the rogue hand placing a certain fez on you’re head.

“now who needs party hats when we have these bad boys.” the doctor grinned as you placed the fez at the centre of your head. “i’ve never looked better.” he smiled at you, “never.” you kissed him sweetly, a hand on his cheek as you glanced over at rory and amy fussing over who got to give you the first slice.

“yeah, i wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” you had your people right here.

#eleventh doctor x reader #eleventh doctor #doctor who #doctor who x reader #doctor who x you #doctor who x fem!reader

[noneorother]

It couldn't be a masquerade ball because it was an unmasked ball

The S2E5 ball symbolism seemed very prominent to me when I watched Season 2 even for the first time, but I saw @meatballlady ask this wonderful question & Neil's answer and thought : hey why not share my thoughts on the clothing at the ball as well.

If you're reading this you probably know all about how coat lapels are an important character signifier both seasons of GO. If not, TLDR; jacket lapels align with a character's intentions, and their alignment with a faction is determined by their jacket colour (light goes up or dark goes down).

So why do I say that this was an "unmasked" ball? Because if you follow the lapel theory, all the important participants who seem neutral in real life gain allegiances in their costumes when they enter the bookshop. Let's break it down.

Crowley & Aziraphale

If you aren't just making everyone fancy, but actually trying to reveal intentions during this ball, then it would make sense that Aziraphale and Crowley don't change outfits : they've been wearing their hearts on their sleeves since season 1. Maggie

In everyday life, Maggie purposely wears tops without lapels. Everything is round or crew-neck, and she never wears black. In the ball reveal, Maggie wears black for the first time, and has big pointing down lapels on her navy satin shirt, indicating alignment with Hell in both colour and intention. All of her cutesy bows and hearts and gold jewelry are gone. She wears sparkly silver only, and a prominent wristwatch (like Crowley). However, her pinkie ring is still present. (go read @indigovigilance's post about pinkie rings, it's great).

Nina

Nina is all over the place in real life. Colours clash and she wears black and earth tones often. She also never wears jackets with lapels. When we get to the ball however, she suddenly has a golden brocade jacket with teal & crimson shoulders, and golden hair clasps. She becomes exactly what Maggie is attempting to project in real life, but her lapels are pointing out and up, so alignment with heaven in both colour and intention. No pinkie ring on Nina in the series. Under the jacket she wears green and crimson. A confused pairing as I've ever seen on the show. Who knows what that's about*. Jimbriel

In normal life, Jim is ultra-neutral with lapels pointing out (neither up nor down) on a brown coat. (Underneath is a whole different ball game for another post.) Jimbriel gets a hilariously Liberace-fied version of the Aziraphale outfit : bowtie, poweder blue and labels pointing down and also to the side, fluffy white and details like Michael and Uriel. He's HELPING AZIRAPHALE WITH THE PLAN, wink wink nudge nudge. You go Jim. Mutt

Mutt the magic shop owner also has a pinkie ring in real life, as does his spouse, and keeps it for the ball. He gains impressive gold details on his lapel-less tunic, and the colour shifts from base of black to a base of navy, with red and white flowers instead of orange and teal swoops. His sleeves widen, becoming almost an angelic robe-like tunic, making him kind of a mysterious mashup of symbols. Arnold

Arnold of Arnold's music shop fame is wearing black with rainbow tie and suspenders before the ball, without much jewelry save a pinkie ring. Inside the ball, he keeps the black, but now has crimson and teal accents instead of rainbow, and lapels that are very high up, but that point out to the side, making him more neutral/Mutt the magician aligned, even if he's wearing black. Justine

Justine wears Hellish green and black in real life on her daisy patterned dress, no lapels here. She has no pinkie ring either, but once inside the ball, all the green melts away and she's allllll black flowered lace. She also has no lapels here, making her also more aligned with Mutt & Arnold than anything, but just as mysterious. Mrs Sandwich

Mrs Sandwich seems easier to judge. Black and gold no lapels in real life, alllll sparkly black and big downturned lapels for the ball. No pinkie ring on her in either outfit, but a prominent wristwatch. This makes total sense to me. Even if she might not be aligned with hell directly, she runs a brothel and profits off of sex workers so probably a pretty bad lady if we're weighing the odds from a biblical perspective. In other moments she also seems pretty fond of Crowley, and pretty unhappy with Nina (see above). Mr&Mrs Cheng

Mr & Mrs Cheng are VERY interesting to me. While Cheng wears all black in real life, and we never see her partner, she is transformed in the ball into the only character (besides Nina in solid green) who wears a green pattern. She has become a plant/garden (specifically a Monsterra, like in Corwley's box), and her husband is the pollinating golden butterfly, (with neutral lapels on a black background). Neither of them wear pinkie rings, but Mrs Cheng keeps her distinctive teal earrings, and is now sporting red lipstick, making her and her husband most associated with Nina. Nina also trusts Cheng enough to mind her coffee shop whilst talking to Crowley across the street in the last dregs of E6. As an aside, they also seem to *sort of* have a pre-teen girl child at this ball. We see her briefly in the evacuation but very hidden between other characters, and never in the ball proper. Mr Brown

Do we need to go through Mr Brown's outfit again? I don't think so. ------------------------------ * I have a feeling it's to do with other things, like Jim's sweater vest, but I'll have to dig into it later.

#good omens meta #good omens season two #art director talks good omens #good omens 2 #go season 2 #go meta #good omens season 2 #good omens prime #crowley x aziraphale

[pumpkinbxtch]

Hello Can I do a request with all the pjo characters (but Percy x reader) singing of key « I will rescue you »

Because is isn’t in a good place. Please

i will rescue you .☆ . ° .

— percy jackson x fem!reader

warnings: allusions to anxiety, anguish, post-traumatic stress, all this bad feelings frfr, small discussion but don't worry, there is comfort in the end. a/n: helloooo, here you are, lady. i hope it's what you had in mind (or at least something close to it 😔) thank youu for visit me on the requests, I send you kisses and love from Neptune, frenchie girlie🩵

The sound of the earring brushing against you made you shudder. You inhaled. 

The metallic clashes drilled into your ears, the desperate screams made your skin crawl.

 — This isn't real, this isn't real — you murmured, partially closing your eyes, static as if anchored to the ground with thousands of stones tied to your ankles.

Why was putting on an earring so difficult?

The screams echoed in your head, was it happening right now? The blood and its iron smell churned your stomach, you no longer wanted to experience it. 

The sensation of your lungs burning for air made you react, you blinked tensely and exhaled. 

The tinkling of the earring falling broke the suffocating silence, and your body tensed as anger invaded you. A glance at your reflection betrayed your exhaustion in the mirror, worsening your mood, and before losing your composure, you held your breath to avoid letting out a scream.

1… You pressed your lips and eyes. 

2… You dug your nails into the fabric of your dress, wanting to tear it off. 

3… You opened your eyes and searched for the earring, still frowning. 

The footsteps echoing on the wooden floor stopped meters before reaching you, and you heard an almost inaudible grunt as he crouched down. You didn't care, you kept searching on your own. You had to figure it out yourself.

 — Are you looking for this, miss? —  He replaced your view of the floor with his hand, and once he extended it, the jewelry sparkled in his palm. 

Tension concentrated in your jaw as you snatched it abruptly, making Percy recoil with evident confusion on his face.

 — Is something wrong? —  You huffed and tried again to put the earring through your ear-piercing, ignoring your boyfriend. Inside you, there was a voice asking the reason for your attitude, but still, you decided to drown it out and bury it deep in your mind. Everything bothered you, the way you looked, the stupid way the clothes felt, you felt like if you breathed it would be the last time.

  — Hey… —  He called again, and you watched him approach through the mirror. Percy let the corners of his lips drop to the point of forming a pout. He felt a pressure in his chest seeing you so upset. Immediately, he knew he wanted to help you, but he didn't know how. 

His hands gently squeezed your shoulders, forcing you to relax them, and he hugged you from behind timidly, giving you an incredible lightness in your heart, wanting to hug him and cry in his arms. 

The boy still hesitated if his touch bothered you, but he couldn't see signs of it, so he ventured to kiss your neck and snuggle into its curve. 

His eyes looked at you like when a Golden Retriever did something wrong, and you felt guilty because he hadn't done anything and still succumbed to your hostile attitude. 

You clenched the edge of your jacket until the blood disappeared from your knuckles.

He was the perfect boyfriend and you a troubled bitch who seemed to depend on him to feel better. That thought made your blood boil, and you shook Percy off you again, without caring about the force with which you did it.

His turquoise green eyes watched you with affliction. The more you wanted to protect him from your rudeness, the more you hurt him.

  — Is something wrong? —  He insisted, despite the knot in his stomach, keeping calm in his voice. He knew well that getting upset too wouldn't help at all. 

— It's nothing.

He pursed his lips.

— Something's wrong.

 — I said no! —  You raised your voice and glanced at him through the mirror. Percy stepped back and pressed his lips together.

 — I'm not asking you. I know something's wrong.

The earring finally clicked, and you turned towards him with an unfocused gaze filled with ache. Percy had seen that look a couple of times before and realized what was probably happening, but your sharp words caught him off guard.

 — It's none of your business, Perseus.

And you brushed past him, bumping into his arm, leaving him alone in the living room of your shared apartment. The slam of the door made him blink, and he ran a hand through his hair, trying to control his breathing. 

He understood you, really he did, not only because he was your boyfriend and felt empathy towards you, but because memories of the things he experienced also haunted him, although fortunately (or sadly), over time he learned to handle it. You were different, his sweet and lovely girlfriend, hadn't been able to swallow those bitter moments. You had been dealing with the situation for a short time, and Percy didn't blame you, the feeling alone was shitty enough to do so.

What bothered him was that you didn't share it with him. He threw himself onto the couch, staring at the ceiling, trying to distract his mind for a few seconds by twisting figures with the lamp light. He wondered if it would be a good idea to go and knock on your door or leave you alone until you did it on your own.

You did it, but you didn't speak to Percy. Instead, that night, you kept your arm hooked with Hazel's while your friend talked about something Arion done. You could barely hold the conversation, and she noticed it. the acidic feeling lingered in you, causing you to emit the same aura as a tormented soul.

 — Man —  Jason's voice made Percy startle slightly, forcing him to momentarily look away from you. The blond exchanged a glance with Frank, who stood on the other side of him.

 — Everything okay?

— Yeah — he stammered, still with his gaze fixed on you. For a moment, all he seemed to hear were footsteps on the sidewalk and the offhand conversations the rest of his friends were having. He felt anxious, worried.

Obviously, he didn't like fighting with you, much less for reasons where it was evident that you weren't okay, but that night you built such a high wall that Percy felt incapable of climbing it. It wasn't just the way you were ignoring him, but how you looked at him. He understood that it wasn't personal, it was those memories that were dragging you to a dark place.

Frank hugged him by the shoulders and gave him a warm smile. — Relationship troubles?

— I wish it were that, Frank — he murmured weakly. That was enough for both of them to stay quiet and wait for their friend to tell them of his own accord.

— Come on, I want to be the first!

— Not you, Leo —Piper wrinkled her nose and pushed the guy. — You sound awful!

— Well, excuse us, Miss Beauty. Not all of us have superstar genes!

both started laughing and hugged each other, arguing about which song to share.

Percy looked at you from across the room and tried to approach you, taking advantage of the fact that the others seemed distracted. He sat down beside you, and you anxiously squeezed the edges of your dress. Now, guilt gnawed at you, but that discomfort with yourself didn't make you think clearly about how to apologize. Percy leaned towards your ear.

— We can talk? — The tremor in her voice made you want to throw up. You ignored him once again, and he leaned against the wall.

A metallic clank violently assaulted your ears, followed by groans that overwhelmed you even more. Frank was helping Annabeth gather the microphones, but all you could see was a sword through his chest and Annabeth trying to stand up with a splinted ankle, drowned in tears.

You pressed yourself into the corner and breathed heavily.

— yn?— Percy took your hand, and you pushed him away violently before running to the bathroom.

Everyone in the room watched the scene, and Leo helped Percy to his feet.

— Bro, what's going o-?—  Leo cut off his words when he saw his friend's glassy eyes, making a bittersweet play with the crooked smile.

— Percy —  Jason called, his blue eyes seeking an explanation, as did everyone else. The dark-haired boy just sighed.

You didn't look perfect, but it was the best you could do with the karaoke bathroom supplies. Once your heart returned to beating normally, you unlocked the bathroom door and made your way to the booth. Murmurs were heard, but as soon as your shadow appeared through that glass door, your friends got into position.

It was simply amusing; the strategies were so ingrained in their bones that they couldn't help but adopt almost battle-like stances. The way Annabeth kept her finger poised over the tablet to start the song the moment you crossed the threshold while Leo made sure the microphone worked. Jason checked that everything was ready, while Piper and Hazel gave motivational words to Percy, and Frank simply held the door to prevent you from entering before everything was set up. It wasn't necessary because you arrived just in time.

The melody on the piano began as soon as you stepped inside. Percy stood in the middle, where the stage supposedly was, and for the first time, you saw him trembling, indeed, he was nervous as hell.

He started singing the first lines, and despite how shaky or weak the words came out of his mouth, you knew what it was about. His steady gaze as he sang the lyrics was enough to make your tears want to spill again. You clasped your hands over your chest as you smiled bitterly at him.

The first tear ran down your cheek, and he walked towards you with his hand extended, eager to reach you and hold you in his arms. Wanting to protect you from any harm.

— I will send out an army to find you—  he smiled ironically, and upon hearing your small laugh, he sang a little more lightly. Taking your hand, he dragged you to the center where the neon lights bathed your bodies, swaying together to the song.

Percy pulled you towards him in such a way that your foreheads collided, and his green eyes met yours. The song ceased to be just a song and became a way for him to communicate his feelings to you. He took a breath and placed your hand on his chest, letting you feel his heartbeats. How his heart beat for you.

— It’s true, I will rescue you —  his voice broke on the last vowels, and he pulled away the microphone, trying to hide the sob that came from deep within his chest. Because there was no crueler way to hurt him than with the image of you silently suffering.

Everyone was watching, but soon you noticed that they were also quietly singing along to the song. All with that understanding and kind smile.

The gentle squeeze Percy gave your hand with his free one made you look at him again.

— You don't have to deal with this alone.

#maría's shared dreams☆｡ﾟ✧ #percy jackson #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #pjo hoo toa #heroes of olympus #percy pjo #the seven pjo

[ewanmitchelll]

Imagine Arctic Monkeys’s songs: Do I Wanna Know?

Imagine you are seduced by Aemond Targaryen.

Warnings: fluffy, light reading—explicit smut.

Warnings 2: alternative universe where the Greens won uncontestedly the war.

***

Have you got colour in your cheeks? Do you ever get that fear that you can't shift the type that sticks around like something in your teeth?

Aemond finds difficulty to settle after years waging war. There is peace after a decade fighting his sister and her partisans. They are all nothing but names now, recorded in the maesters books.

To placate his restless energy, the prince has, in many ways, followed in his bitter enemy’s footsteps—getting himself lands in the Free Cities, he found himself a new life style as well as a new wife.

But because he’s now the Hand of the King, in opposite to Daeron’s career in Citadel, his life style was left behind. For now.

You, however, settled easily with this new routine. Harrenhal is your home and this is the household you must fill your wifely duties. Initially, you found a rival for your husband’s affection—his former mistress, a woman named Alys Rivers, did not let easily go the path to Aemond’a heart—which complicated your smooth transition from the life of a free damsel who loved the seas to a noblewoman, wife of a bad reputed prince.

Despite the initial scandal such a match evoked, you and Aemond overcame the early disapprovals until the dowager queen accepted you as her daughter-in-law in a relationship that grew fondly in due time.

As you spend the afternoon reading a love story between a knight and his damsel in distress, which in some shades reminds yours, you are found missing your husband dearly.

Aemond has been gone to Free Cities to knock a local rebellion and negotiate peace terms with the involved, applying the law, before going back. And he misses you too.

When he lands with Vhagar, he hurries to you—although the prince needs to clean himself first. Only then he comes at you.

Aemond finds you busy with your lecture at their bedchambers, so concentrated that you don’t spot him, leaning against the wall, watching you with a side smirk on his lips.

Are there some aces up your sleeve? Have you no idea that you're in deep? I've dreamt about you nearly every night this week…

His good eye is set on you like a hunter when it’s about to get its prey. Your y/c hair is loose behind your back, your eyes are focused in the lines you read but he wonders what is the theme that makes you furrow your eyebrows. Your lips are partially open and Aemond easily sees his own clashing against yours in a long fervent kiss. But the man is patient.

The gown you dress is the first he gifted you, in the days of your courtship. Aemond is pleased to see you still keep it in your wardrobe. The gown shows some cleavage and shoulders, reinforcing your firm full breasts.

When staring at your heavy breathing, his own chest goes slowly up and down. His eyes devour your skin through the clothing, still keeping in his thought the moment your nipples go hard under his eager tongue.

When remembering how much you enjoy it, how you always sang louder the moment he took his time to suck each breast, a heat troubles his inner balance. His manhood gets lightly unbearable.

It’s time to move.

How many secrets can you keep? 'Cause there's this tune I've found that makes me think of you somehow and I play it on repeat until I fall asleep, spilling drinks on my settee…

Aemond recollects the first time he saw you. Finding a way to survive in Essos, your brother had plans to send you to serve Rh’llor whilst you considered piracy. You’ve always loved the sea, and there you’d content yourself when your path crossed his.

You knew nothing of his past, and yet you took him in. When love flourished, it took not much time.

Moved by this agony of spending too much of his time away from you, he wants you again. Using shadows on his favor, he is about to surprise you.

Aemond kneels behind you. Still focused in the reading, you do not notice he’s behind your chair. The prince is lightly amused at how this novel has stolen you from him.

“My lady, I am no poet, no bard, no man versed in the court of love, but I’d think by now you were missing me.”

Quickly, you stand, turning at him with joy. It’s been five years since he espoused you and the same joy is there whenever he comes back to your arms.

“I missed you, my husband! How could it not be? Oh Aemond, it’s been so long!”

He experiments that peaceful bliss he never thought he’d feel the moment his lips are welcomed by yours. It starts as a slow, passionate kiss, only then to be parted by you.

“I should have prepared our chambers to receive you better”, you say, ready to fetch a servant when he pulls you right in front of him.

“Why, I wanted to surprise my lady”, he smirks, resting his chin over your shoulder as his hands begin to pace around your waist. “You still have the gown I gifted you during our courtship.”

“Yes, I do”, you blush lightly, not expecting him to notice it.

“Looking gorgeous as always”, he whispers hotly in your ear, giving you goosebumps.

“Aemond…”, you smirk, wondering what’s to come. “I have some news to tell you.”

“Then tell me”, so he says as his tongue begins to draw lines from your earlobe to your jawline and neck, tightening the grip of your waist.

You try to focus, but when he gets to your neck, your leg automatically begin to rub in another and you giggle softly.

“Y-Your brother…”, you almost forget how to breathe the moment he rests a hand over your belly, moving up to your breast.

“Yes?”, he bites your neck softly, missing to feel your firm breast over his hand, but not taking it long now… not yet. “You were saying?”

You try to release yourself off his grip, about to get on fire, but Aemond is very domineering today. The hand on your back is now over your neck, holding it possessively. The way you like it.

“He is throwing a feast and a tournament…”, you get speechless the moment his lips are back at your neck and his right hand starts to lift the skirts of your gown.

“And…”, he smirks, encouraging you to speak as he defies you not to succumb easily into his teasings.

“And… Aemond!”, you hiss impatiently when feeling his hand on your thigh.

Aemond takes a seat and makes you sit on his lap. There is a fire that is about to burn you…and you want to get burnt. But you know it’ll be on his terms.

“Tell me, or I will stop.”

He smirks devilishly as you pout.

Do I wanna know if this feeling flows both ways (Sad to see you go) Sort of hoping that you'd stay. (Baby we both know) That the nights were mainly made for saying things that you can't say tomorrow day…

“The tournament is on…” you barely speak as he begins to tease you through your undergarments. Using his thumb to draw circles over it, you whimper, partially impatient.

“On?”

He pauses, amused as you frown at him.

“Either you tell me or I’ll stop, my dear. The punishment for ignoring me…” Aemond chuckles as you pout again.

“…on the next week”, and he resumes the touching, working his hands within you. “He wants to…. Oh, Aemond!… to celebrate his tenth year he is on the I-I-Iron Throne!”

Aemond chuckles to himself as you try to keep your composure the moment two fingers are inserted in your womanhood. He feels how soaked you are, enjoying the sounds you make as he stimulates you.

“Mm. What else?”, he asks in your ear, using his free hand to unlace your gown, aroused by your reactions.

“He wants you…”, and here you let out a poorly muffled cry the moment he increases his pace. “…to take part of the feast and… and be his champion! Oh bloody seven hells!”

As you throw your head back, the gown, now loose, begins to fall. Aemond stares at your denuded chest, biting his own bottom lip as your nipples are hardened under his lustful gaze.

“His champion?”, he helps you to straighten on his knee, despite the trouble to ignore the aching in his manhood.

“On the tournament!”, you moan indecently loud the moment he cups one boob with his free hand.

Aemond smirks at you. Oh how he loves these games he plays with you. He is a victor each time.

“Hmm. I shall consider the invitation”, he leaves more bruises in your skin, before whispering unspeakable things to your ear that makes you hot enough to burst into his hand.

And when he licks each finger before you, you almost go insane.

“Aemond!”, you turn at him, finally free of his grasp. You remove the gown off your body, rubbing yourself to his manhood as you settle your hips properly over his, hands eagerly removing his own clothing.

“Oh I haven’t finished with you yet, woman”, he groans as he lifts you and pulls you gently against the window. As you remain on your back to him, he kisses your neck and down to your back, before fingering you again.

“Lords, Aemond!”

And to your delightful surprise, his lips soon take place where his fingers have been. Now you settle the reins and gladly ride his face.

Crawling back to you… Ever thought of calling when you've had a few? 'Cause I always do. Maybe I'm too busy being yours to fall for somebody new. Now I've thought it through, crawling back to you…

But once again in bed he has you under his command again. Crawling over your body, he prepares to set his pace.

“I’ve been burning too long alone to let these flames go unescaped”, he whispers, touching himself right before you, until he leaves it to tease your entrance.

Aemond likes seeing you subduing to him. Even more when fire is indeed burning in such a level that makes you bed. And nothing arouses him more than seeing a prideful lady be turned into a beggar in… bed.

This is how he spreads your legs gently and, leaning his body to be closer to yours, the prince slowly thrusts in you.

“Have I been punished enough?”, you moan sensually, legs wrapped around his waist.

“Perhaps”, he smiles at you.

Only when your gazes meet, he softens.

“I’ve missed you”, and his lust is replaced by the genuine affection that has mirrored in your eyes. “A lot.”

“As have I”, you admit in short breath. “Very much, my rogue prince.”

Aemond smiles down at you, kissing your lips as your body and his finally move as one.

Simmer down and pucker up. I'm sorry to interrupt. It's just I'm constantly on the cusp of trying to kiss you. I don't know if you feel the same as I do but we could be together… If you wanted to.

Later, you feel his wide eyed gaze at you. With no patch to cover his bad eye, he is the way you like him to: himself, nude and crude.

“I am pleased to find your heart shut for me alone”, you muse after a moment spent in warming silence.

“How so?”

He turns at you, on his elbow. Aemond strokes your face gently, doing the same then to your hair.

“Are you still daunted by these insecurities?”

“At times I am. I fear to lose your affection”, you admit. “But this only happens when I’m sensitive.”

“You do not need to excuse yourself for me when I’m open like this before you, wife”, he presses a kiss over your forehead. “I admit I have my own demons to haunt. There are nights I wish I had not… survived.”

“How so, my love,”, you turn at him and he sees fear in your eyes.

“I wish I had not been the cause why such a war disrupted. There is no good in dwelling in the past, but if I must be open with my lady, then my remorse must be shared with you. This is what pains me in times where restlessness knocks me out. Not an old mistress.”

“I’m sorry for this”, you feel ashamed for the confession, but Aemond looks in peace with it.

“Don’t be. We are husband and wife, love. We are in this together. I love you and it’s your love that helps me with going through difficult times.”

That being said, he kisses your lips. Every doubt dies permanently at his passionate kiss.

#ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #house targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #Arctic monkeys #do I wanna know?

[fandonnavyce]

Jason in Wonderland

Crossover Danuary Day 4

Day 1 - Ben 10 Xover Tucker escapes Space Prison with the help of his two best friends

Day 2 - Atla Xover Hey, remember when Sokka got kidnapped into the Spirit World?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Slush kicks up in Jason’s wake as he stomps down Gotham’s street on Christmas Day.  Icy hands are bunched up in their sleeves, his curled fists jammed into his jacket’s pockets. The freezing wind slaps his face and Jason’s pissed he can’t slap it back.

“I’M LATE, I’M LATE! FOR A VERY IMPORTANT DATE! NO TIME TO SAY HELLO, GOODBYE, I’M LATE, I’M LATE, I’M LATE!” 

Speeding right past, and nearly bowling Jason over like a wrecking ball, a giant fucking rabbit thunders past. Jason stares in sheer astonishment as it hippity-hops and leaps into a massive green portal that Jason had apparently been too blind to notice until now.

Jason whips his head round to see if any other Gothamite is seeing this.

No one is seeing this.

And not in that ‘I see nothing cause that ain’t my business’ kind of way. His fellow Gothamite pedestrians are genuinely fully oblivious to the glowing hole in the fabric of reality and the giant anthropomorphic unseasonal Easter Bunny in their midst that had just bounced right into it.  

(Warning Long Post)

Coming out from the green glowing portal was the head of a werewolf peeking out, then the rest of its bestial body (clothed in a ragged green tracksuit) follows.

"That's probably everyone," says the werewolf as it lingers in front of the portal. It turns to head back into the portal.

On sheer impulse, Jason sprints down the street. Jason can feel the attention he’s drawing. He's 6 foot tall, has the shoulders of a linebacker, and is pounding the pavement like there are lives on the line. His fellow Gothamites calmly adjust out of his way.

The werewolf disappears through the green portal. With a desperate leap, Jason charges in right after.

Jason feels the portal close behind him.

Line break  

Then Jason is violently, painfully ill.

A burning sensation quickly builds inside his chest. A blistering heat is searing his heart. His heart thrashes in agony. Jason doubles over. His skin starts itching. Starts crawling. Jason’s fingers want to peel and pry the skin off his flesh for relief. Have slick wet blood gush and soothe his skin. Have the bleeding tears let his skin breathe in relief.  His hands are busy gagging his threatening vomit at the outbreak of his sudden vicious nausea. 

Then gravity decides to fuck around.

Jason is now plummeting, spiralling downwards into an unknowing, endless fall. 

There’s nothing more rage-inducing than being suddenly violently and incomprehensibly ill whilst in the midsts of fucking freefall. 

Jason’s screams shatter the air.

The werewolf whirls around. He sees the displaced, living human uncontrollably falling in a panicked frenzy behind him.

"Nu, tio ne estas bona". (Well that's not good).

With a single bound, Wulf approaches the human, then he smartly opens up another portal beneath the falling mortal, in order to send the human back to the physical realm, Gotham. 

But just as the human dipped into the portal, Wulf looks on in horror. He realises that the human was having a violent seizure whilst free falling. In the split second of that realisation, the human’s violent reaction interferes with his portal’s spatial displacement.

A clash of green, bursting light and hissing red blinds him. 

Once he can see again, the portal and the human are both gone.  Wulf doesn’t know where that young man has gone but he doubts it was Gotham, Earth.

Wulf sends thoughts and prayers for the young man.

Line break

“Fuuuuuuuuck!!!” 

Jason yells out into the uncaring green void when it finally stopped spinning. 

The fire in his chest died down to a thrumming burn; painful but tolerable. The skin crawling had lessened to a frustrating itch, the horrendous nausea was now motion sickness.   

"Hey Leather Jacket, you good?”

Coming to a slow stop next to him was a couple riding a motorcycle. Their skin colour was ash grey and the lady had unnatural green hair. 

“That’s fine”, thought Jason. “Everything’s unnatural here anyway.”

“You lost or something?" The man asks. Jason looks around at the swirling green void of a sky and floating broken islands he was drifting between.

"Yeah, you could say that. You wouldn't happen to know where Gotham is?" Jason asked without much hope.

"Oh yeah we know Gotham," the lady answered helpfully. Jason felt hope surge within. Maybe, he wasn’t completely fucked. "You’ll find it thataway. The Revolving River of Doors has recently migrated back so if you head over Skulker’s Island - “

“Do you know where Skulker’s Island is?” the dude interrupted. 

“Of course he knows where it is. Everyone knows where it is, amirite.” The girl smiles leadingly at Jason. Jason stares blankly back. The girl's eyebrows fly off her head in surprise. Just like a cartoon character. Silently, Jason watches the eyebrows float back into place. 

“Oh so you don’t know. How about that Johnny?”

“Yeah, how about that. You a hermit or something?”

“Or something” Jason bites back.

“Well anyway,” the girl continues, “from where we’re standing, Skulker’s Island is just a short Hunt away. The island has a gigantic skull stuck on it, so you can’t miss it.”

“You really can’t. A blind man can see that damn thing for miles.”

“You really can. Right so, once you’ve reached Skulker’s Island,”

“No wait, how do I get to Skulker’s Island?”

“Like I just said,” the lady repeats impatiently, “it’s only a short Hunt away.”

“... right, but to get there, which direction should I take?”

“Whichever one you please,” the girl answers airily, “it’s a short Hunt away.”

“Right, right. It’s a short hunt away. OK. But in which direction should I go from here?”

“Well that depends a good deal on how you want to get there?”

“I don’t much care how—” said Jason.

“Then it doesn’t matter which way you go,” said the lady.

“—so long as I actually get there,” Jason added, exasperated.

“Oh, you’re sure to do that,” she said, “it’s just a short Hunt away.”

“So what you’re trying to tell me is that I can pick any direction?”

“Any direction”

“Any direction at all,” the guy chimes in.

“And I’ll find Skulker’s Island,” Jason continues.

“Only a short Hunt away, exactly” the lady finishes. “So once there, you’ll want to head on over it. Not under it or around it but over it. If you try to go under or around it, you’ll likely end up in Alaska.”

The biker dude frowns at his girl, “Not Ember’s Lair?”

“Nah they’ve broken up.”

“Oh like for real?”

“This time maybe, yeah.”

“Ooof. What did Skulker do?”

“Get this. He forgot her Death Day.”

The dude gasped, “He forgot! But she has a wholeass song!”

“Fucking exactly! That’s what I said when Jazz told me.”

“RIP Skulker.”

“RIP Skulker.”

“A babe like that was out of his league anyway,” the dude leers. His girlfriend smacks him unimpressed.

“Why’d you smack me? I’m right!”

“I didn’t like the way you said it.” The girlfriend retorts, her hand on her hips.

“You didn’t like-” the dude acts flabbergasted, “oh c’mon Kitty, I didn’t mean nothing by it, so why are you”

“Sorry to interrupt,” Jason interrupts unsorry, “but as the lady was saying?”

“Oooh lady,” she smiles, “I like the sound of that.”

The greasy haired ginger turns and death glares at Jason, which Jason ignores.

“So where was I?”

“That I should head over, not around or under, but over the island with the giant skull on it...”

“Right, so above Skulker’s Island you’ll see the Revolving River of Doors. And one of those doors will be a Purple Travesty to Gothic Art Deco. That's the door to Gotham.”

"But why are you heading on over to Gotham anyway?” the ginger-haired biker asks, now slouching grumpily over his handlebars. “You ain't attending the King's Not Christmas Shindig?"

The green-haired lady perks up, "Speaking of the King, bet he'd luuurve to see you."

Jason was sceptical, “Why would your King want to see me?”

“More like why wouldn’t he want to see you?” the biker dude drawled, “Like who even are you?”

“Someone who's way more confused than they were when they woke up this morning.”

“Oh!” the girl snapped her fingers, “You wouldn’t happen to want to adopt the King?”

“Or End the King”

“Or kill his Pops?”

“Or fuck his Mama?”

“Make his clones?”

“Mess with things beyond your power?”  

“And then dump the responsibility onto his lap?”

“Before ditching him to save your own skin?”

“...” Jason defensively crossed his arms. 

The couple were now leaning into his space, waiting attentively for his answer with creepy smiles on their faces.

“... No, I don’t want to do any of that.” 

“Awesome, then you’re perfect!” the girl cheered.

“Perfect, how? For not being a madman?!”

“Well c’mon now” the guy drawled, “we’re all mad here.” 

The couple’s grins grew wider.

Ooof if you managed to get all the way down here then don't forget to reblog to spread the post!😊

@crossoverdanuary

#crossover danuary 2024 #danny phantom #dpxdc #alice in wonderland #jason todd #johnny 13 #kitty #dead on main #general fandom #free day

[ideas-scattered-dreams]

/ / Past that blinds

Fandom: twisted wonderland

AU: GN! General reader + Small malleus x reader.

Warning: alot of occ? its been a long time so yeah. long.

Imagine that....

This wasnt suppose to happen, it was suppose to be another mishap that grim and the Aduce duo made, and fixed easily. Yet why did the past resurrect and the present to future disappear.

"i got this prefect, you are such a worry wart. i have learnt my lesson and this potion will be perfect!" Ace boasted as he began to put random ingredients in the caldron as he mixed it all.

you stared at him with an unsure expression as you frowned. "ace.. i think u should stop. the color looks... weird." ace looked at you as he shrugged. beside you both, was grim and deuce. they were aswell making random ingredients that looked similar to the ingredients on the book they had and hurriedly mixed it all.

"nyehahaha we're petty good at this." grim smirked as he dumped another ingredient in. deuce was mixing it in a minimum pace as he nodded. suddenly the fire lit harsh as deuce was was burnt, making him let go of the handle that hit grim.

grim jumped hastily making the caldron tilt.

noticing the incident. You pulled ace back, grabbing him by the waist and turning around, shielding him from the two caldrons clashing as all hell broke lose.

Professor Crewel yelled amidst in the rising fog that was made by the caldrons. the surrounding students fled, as, duce and grim searched for the both of you in the fog.

"prefect! Ace! where are you!" as the fog began to disappear, both ace and your figure finally seen. Deuce was about to yell out, both but was stopped, when a Gun was pressed onto his forehead, he froze, not daring to utter a word.

You were coldly pressing the gun harshly on deuce's forehead as you held the unconscious ace in your arms. your eyes not holding any warmth nor sympathy, to the one you're holding at gun point.

Professor crewel stood tall as he looked at you, voice holding utmost authority. "pup. i demand you to stop and let those two go." he still hasn't figured out why you had a gun but he knew, something wrong had happened behind the mist.

You furrowed your brows as you looked at the professor, "and who might you be? are you one of those (enemy name)? ha. you'd think i'd follow one foes words." as the professor was about to reject. you dashed forward making him lose his balanced stepping back.

you hit his pressure points making him unconscious. standing in front, you looked at the blue haired boy that was kneeling down, looking at the unconscious professor , he stared at you as you began to walk toward him.

"boy. i do not know why i am here. but i'll make you sure you spit every last information that you know." without another word, you grabbed the shocked boy and lifted him up, putting him ontop of your shoulder.

You walked out of the room as you roamed in the empty hallway, with the directions and half tour from the boy on your shoulder, until you encountered a tall, horned male and his attendants.

A tall man, with horns filled your vision as you stared at the male across the hallway. A shorter male with purple and black hair peeked behind the male that stopped as he chuckled.

"fufufu hey there prefect! and... deuce?" the short male looked perplexed as he stared at the boy on top of your shoulder and your bowed and unmoving form. The clothes you wore... it... reminded him about the battlefield.

"child of man..." the horned male looked at you with a hint of worry in his eyes. You lifted your head up as you stared into the eyes of the horned male, gaze filled with hostile intent.

the short male extended an arm Infront of the taller male as he looked at you with wariness, the green haired and silver haired males following shortly.

"You.. you have such an intense aura. a terrifying lightning... and you.. the shorter one. i feel a sense of the bloody battle between the world... and two flames beside. " you took a stance. Your free hand reached behind you, holding a gun.

aiming the gun towards the group... and shot.

though before the shot reached its target, the gun was kicked away by the boy on your shoulder using his legs.

"Lilia senpai! Draconia senpai! watch out! the prefect isn't in their right mind right now!" the boy yelled out a warning while trying to wriggle himself fee. but your firm grip was like iron.

Your face turned into a scowl, teeth gritting. "you fool! you all are those damn (enemy name)! impudent bastards!" you suddenly threw deuce at the group, making him fly with great speed.

yelling in surprise, deuce was caught by the green haired boy with a groan, they both collapsed.

"this place is big. i get it. hundreds of glass that could shatter and extraordinary walls, if i cant leave. i'd rather fight until my last breath." You grabbed your gun as you began shooting towards the group.

with fast reflexes, the purple haired male created a barrier using his pen? deflecting all the bullets, continuing until the group shielded themselves behind a wall.

"hiding? how cliche!" before you began your rounds again. you felt a sudden pain behind your neck , knocking the air out of your lungs, the sudden weakness made you kneel as you coughed.

"who-" the one who made you go to your knees was a male with a crow mask. with a companion of a cat on his shoulder and a red head behind.

"prefect. we will have a long talk after this." after his words was spatted out of his mouth, you finally lose consciousness.

After a few hours, you finally regained your conscious back, looking around the room with wariness, you were laid in a... clinic? you noticed you were handcuffed, yet the handcuffs didn't feel like normal ones... well to your observation and intense glaring at the unbreakable thing.

a faint cough was heard beside you, glancing and still glaring... it was the colorful duo and... raccoon, cat, lion, fire whatever animal besides them.

you were about to open your mouth the red hair spoke with irritation and a hint of worry. "the heck is up with you prefect! are you still mad because of the incident? it was... honestly an accident!" the red haired shouted. "and you almost shot us all with that gun of yours! Where did you even get that? especially trying to hurt the others AND draconia senpai?! the horrid!!"

as the red hair kept scolding you, the blue haired one looked at you with a frown, holding the red haired shoulder to stop himself from continuing. "ace... that's enough." the blue hair known now as deuce reasoned as the red hair, ace, finally shut up.

"i don't think that is the prefect anymore." suddenly the very same man that knocked you out, walked in the room, smiling. "that's right spade! that isn't the prefect you know!"

the sudden entrance startled the trio as the masked man walked infront of you. "this one is actually the past! prefect. it seems the potion you four made mixed, made a potion that makes one go back to the past."

he looked at you amused. "and our dear prefect was hit by that simple potion and this happened" you glared at the masked man as you tsked.

"is the potion gonna last long or?"

"it will last for a few hours, luckily the potion wasn't that strong. so worry not!" the trio exhaled with relief.

after the headmaster walked out the room, you remained silent, silently absorbing all the information that came out of his mouth. so it seems this is the... future? and what you are now is... the past. huh... how... infuriating.

did the war ended? did everything finally get resolved? has peace finally been achieved? comrades and those who sacrificed themselves... has...

"prefect?" you lifted your head up, seeing the trio infront of you. "hey. you aren't... you know, the prefect we know now, but it's fine, we'll definitely make you remember! because you're still the prefect we know, just different outfits and personality, but that's all!" ace smirked as the raccoon and deuce nodded behind him.

you felt. touched. touched of idiotic mess. though, it reminded you of your comrades. even though you were from the "past", there was hint of familiarity that you couldn't ignore. so. you let your gut feeling control you.

you simply nodded as the trio smiled.

the trio led you all around campus, the cat not raccoon anymore after alot of arguments was on your shoulder as they ate their tuna can that you bought with a golden coin, that was in your pocket for no reason (i think you have hundreds of tuna cans after but we dont talk about that)

you were silent the whole tour while the trio bickered and gave some small information about the destination, until the four of you encountered the same male that you met and almost shot.

he was towering all four of you as the others silently hid behind your back. "hey hornton" grim casually greeting the male, though it seems that it was unheard of as the male was only focusing on you.

"hey! prefect! you should apologize to him! you did almost shot him a few hours ago." you remained silent as the horned male looked at you like a... kicked puppy? it was a bit... laughable, though, cute.

you approach the male as you awkwardly stood in front of him. was he this tall??? "i'm... im sorry about what happened awhile ago. well i don't think an apology would suffice... how about i invite you for dinner?"

the horned male was silent, but then a small smile appeared and a deep chuckle. "Your invitation is alluring. i shall accept" A sudden nervous beat of your heart and a slight blush at the tip for your ear emerged.

why were you suddenly feeling like this? agh, everything has been weird since you appeared here. you faked a cough and nodded. the trio looked at the both of you with a snicker on their face.

"shouldn't we tell them that... they and draconia senpai are?"

"nahhh let them figure it out. i do wanna see their reaction when the potion wears off."

#➥🌙dreamer.ideas #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x male reader #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #malleus draconia x reader #twst #twisted wonderland x gn reader #twisted wonderland x female reader #malleus draconia

[thedeafprophet]

Finished drawing my character designs/ line up of the Light Fingers Crew to formalize my drawing of them

Overview/ Design talk under the cut if anyone is interested in that sort of thing

For all the designs I used the art given for them in the game as a starting point and then went from there. For all but Hephaesta of course that means using a non character specific art. I also wanted all the colors to sort of fit together so where i would have done more vibrant stuff and i strayed away from that.

Clara and Her Sister

Putting the discussion for these two together, as their designs recieved similar thoughts because they are identical twins. ('She is wearing the Fading Music-Hall Singer's face, which seems rude.')

The basic art of the bohemian faction is used to depict the sisters.

So this was my basic starting point for the visual design. I ended up diving further into research into bohemian fashion, which of course lead to me reading up on the history of the term and the connection to the Romani people. According to wikipedia, the word comes from the french term 'bohémien', which was the word for the Romani people.

This of course put a complex spin when i looked into the clothing used in the time, as theres a question between cultural appropriation and cultural appreciation, and one I don't have the full understanding for.

Nevertheless i did take some inspirtation for the clothing here, Clara with having her hair loose and down and looser clothing, the singer with the hair scarf and the necklace among some inspirations.

Inbetween the two I imagine the singers appearance to be more reserved then Clarabelle's. For one, my interpretation of the singer is as someone who uses her singing as a backdrop for sneaking and gathering information (per her role as a 'contact' of the player). The other being that we are told Clara's title is the 'eccentric opera singer' to me implies a grander sense of creatativity and wilder clothing. In less stressful times I imagine her wearing brighter clashing colours and skirts with patterns on them and jewlery (which i intend to draw at a later time when i get better at adding patterns to clothes lol).

We also know the two of them are 'not young' so i attempted to not make them appear so.

Hephaesta

Heph is of course the one character of the group with a personalized art, which i used as the base for my design.

Hephaesta is supposed to be a large figure, as she is a strongwoman, and is described as towering over even jasper and frank. So of course I had to make her tall compared to the others of the group.

And of course i can't go without bringing up Katie Sandwina (again), a real strongwomen of the time who serves as a great inspiration both in body type and height.

What a woman huh.

Dr Vaughan

The Campaigner template art was the one used to depict her when you first speak to her and was a starting point here.

To me i always pictured her as a fairly older women given her experience and amount of time she's been researching. Clearly someone with a lot of exprience. And also i just vibe with it.

I kept her outfit simple, as i dont figure her as someone to put too much into the latest fashion given her focus on her work. I took the green from the art to use as her skirt to tie in that colour. I also looked up some photos of female doctors of the time and that partially influenced my art direction here.

Obliging Silverer

I debated including him or not given that you only have him as part of the team if you use the light fingers exclusive option to access the parabolan basecamp. But given the fact that he literaly dies defending the camp, I think its only fair that he gets included.

i just had a bit of fun with the design as there wasnt too much to restrict off. I dont draw a lot of characters with mustaches depsite them being a thing of the time, so I figured this was a good excuse as any. I kept with some orange colours within his colour scheme for further callbacks to parabola and his work.

Also hey did you know that people of an ashkenazi background can also have red hair? Fun fact heh.

#hello i hope u all have it in ur hearts for some non event art right now because i just finished this drawing #me starting a piece with 5 full bodies: how much work could it really be #ANYWAY this is all liable for change of course but this gives me somethin to ref for future drawings lol #hope y'all like #fallen london #my art #light fingers #light fingers crew #im not tagging all their names thats too long