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stevebabey · 1 year

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no one asked but this is the post that inspired this! thank u immensely for the luv <3 number 1 comment was wondering what steve’s bids were & from his pov, so without further ado...enjoy — part one here!

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Begrudgingly, Eddie has to admit that Robin might be right.

It’s impossible not to be looking for the bids since he brought them up to her. Even though Eddie was fully expecting to tell Robin to suck it, maybe even wager what little money he had against this working out, Eddie can’t help but watch for them in every interaction. And fuck, she’s right.

They’re little, but they’re there.

The first one Eddie would’ve missed if he wasn’t looking for it. Actually, that’s a lie; Eddie does miss it, until Robin points it out, the nosy bitch. It’s minuscule and honestly, it just seems like Steve asking his opinion — which friends do all the time! It’s why Eddie brushes right over it.

“Okay, be honest,“ Steve had said, walking and talking as he entered the living room where Robin and Eddie were sprawled across the couches. They were both waiting on him, the three of them set on heading out to the drive-in to catch a film.

Eddie can’t fathom why Steve felt the need to change his outfit for it, but when he returns, he gets it. It’s not quite the usual polo Eddie had grown to like on Steve, this one hanging a little looser, the colour a bit darker than Steve’s usual choice, the sleeves a little shorter — almost midway to a muscle tee.

Steve’s fingers fiddle with the distressed collar of the shirt, smoothing invisible wrinkles and fussing over nothing. He swishes back his floppy hair with a flick of his head. “It’s a new shirt, I know it’s a little different - but what do we think?”

He says we but he’s looking at Eddie.

Eddie, who has taken to trying to reel in his gawp because what the fuck Steve? It’s like he’s well aware of what drives Eddie insane and has specifically leaned into it. Some evil goblin in Eddie’s brain whispers think how good he’d look in your shirt and he squashes it, giving a visible twitch to shut down that train of thought.

From the other couch, Robin clears her throat loudly and smiles sweetly at her best friend. “It looks great, Steve.”

It’s sincere and Steve’s mouth tugs up, nearly a smile but his gaze fast-tracks back to Eddie. Eddie nods in agreement, a bit sluggish from his distracting thoughts and god dammit, the extra exposed skin of Steve’s arms are so not helping. “Yeah, looks... looks good, man.”

Steve smiles, lips pressed together but his shoulders curl in just a bit, deflating just a tad. From where Steve can’t see her, Robin waves her hands wildly and catches Eddie’s attention. He watches as she gestures wildly and it takes a moment to realise what’s she mouthing — ‘A bid! That’s a bid, you idiot!’

Oh fuck, Eddie thinks. Cos it totally was; the question, the focus on Eddie. He doesn’t even think about the logistics of it, of the fact Robin was right, just jumps right into picking up the bid.

“You trying a new style?” Eddie asks and then thanks whatever god invented the whole fake-it-to-you-make-it schtick because he’s feeling so far from casual or confident. “Going metal on me, big boy?”

Eddie just manages to catch the grin that breaks across Steve’s face as he turns away, giving a scoff — it comes out too soft though, giving away his complete lack of annoyance. He pulls that usual Steve Harrington pose, hands sliding onto his hips, and screws his face into some melted smiley-grimace. “Shut up, Munson.”

Eddie grins and goads on the blush that’s beginning on Steve’s neck, a glorious tinged pink colour. “If this shirt is any indication, you’d pull it off just fine.”

Eddie watches the blush climb higher as Steve ignores the comment, his smile still giving him away. He grabs his coat and pats down his jeans — ridiculous tight acid wash jeans that Eddie hates he’s somehow become attracted to — ensuring he has his keys and wallet. Once assured, he looks up at his two friends again, brows raised, and says, “Ready to rock and roll?”

That comment alone has Eddie seriously reconsidering his type in men.

There’s only a brief moment to talk about it when Eddie and Robin cajole Steve into going and getting them both popcorn to get a moment alone. Steve had scoffed, face twitching in the way it did whenever he tried to hold back a bitchy comment, but he still stomped off in the direction of the snack stand.

The moment he’s out of earshot, both voices explode in the back of Eddie’s van.

“What did I say—”

“Jesus H Christ, you were right—”

“Literally how many times do I have—”

“Oh my god, you were right—”

“ —before you realise I’m always—”

“Robin.” He cuts her off, hands landing on her shoulders. Robin eyes them warily, lips still parted from how her rant had been cut off. “Robin, I’m gonna kill you.”

“What?” Robin’s nose scrunches up. “What the hell are you—”

“Oh Christ, I can’t believe- how long have you noticed those bids?” Eddie’s aware he sounds a bit estranged, eyes probably wide and it doesn’t help when he softly shakes Robin back and forth. She lets herself be shaken, hair flying back in forth. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me! You are such a bad gay friend!”

Robin smacks his hands off her shoulders with a frown, her freckly face perturbed at Eddie’s outburst. “Dude, it’s not my fault! May I remind you that until very very recently you were seeing someone else? What difference would it have made?”

Eddie waves his hand, disregarding the point with a shake of his head. His unkempt curls cover his face and Eddie sweeps them back in one motion, “What difference would it have made? Oh my, Jesus—“

Whatever long-winded sentence Eddie was about to spit out is lost by the sound of Steve’s approaching footsteps, effectively shutting both of them up.

Eddie flings himself to the other side of the van, putting an unusual amount of distance between Robin and him like they were being caught doing something they shouldn’t.

Robin frowns at him and gestures wildly with her hands in a way that means what the fuck man? Eddie gestures back, though he’s not entirely sure what his fast hand motions are supposed to mean when Steve rounds the door.

He’s got two buckets of popcorn tucked under each arm and Eddie quickly crosses his arms, tucking his hands into his armpits like his stupid hand motions will somehow give him away.

Steve looks up, stopping just a way from the edge of the van, and looks at the pair of them. His eyes track from Robin still sitting on one of the old cushions and looking two seconds from burying her face in her hands, across to Eddie. He huffs a laugh and kneels on the edge of the van.

“I know he’s gross Robin,” He begins, tone light, as he holds out one of the buckets for Robin to take. “But c’mon, is the distance really necessary?”

Robin snickers as Eddie makes an appalled noise, both of which make Steve smirk. He holds out the other for Eddie to take and Eddie snatches it, glaring at him over the buttery rim for his comment. Then takes a handful and shovels it in because he can’t think of a witty comment to retaliate. Steve crawls into the van and plops himself between them with a content sigh.

“See? Gross.” He teases, shoving his hand into Eddie’s popcorn bucket to grab a handful. Eddie scowls and chews a little faster when the flavour on his tongue seems to register in his brain.

His eyes stare at the popcorn bucket as he chews, then swallows — up the front of the van, the radio that’s tuned into the correct frequency begins playing the opening credits song as the screen changes. Silence sweeps across the drive-in but despite the sudden hush, Eddie has no qualms about breaking it.

“Sweet n’ salty flavour?” He asks Steve, only half attempting a whisper. Robin shushes him instantly, her focus already on the movie that’s beginning. Steve smiles, looking a bit sheepish beneath the glow of the drive-in screen, but he nods.

“I know you like it.” He whispers with a small shrug of his shoulders. Like it wasn’t a big deal. Fuck, Eddie thinks again and hastily feeds himself another handful of popcorn before he says anything majorly stupid in response to that, like: Oh, amazing- have you noticed the big fat crush I have on you as well?

He doesn’t even need to look at Robin to know she’s smiling, smug as ever.

—

Steve, God bless his oblivious little heart, doesn’t even realise he’s doing it.

Steve likes Eddie. Eddie is— god, Eddie is different but he’s good.

He’s this strange amalgamation of traits that Steve can’t comprehend how they fit together in one body or how Eddie manages to pull it all off completely charmingly.

He’s loud, he says rude things, he’s fucking dorky, and far too sweet on the kids — he likes to tease Steve, and yet somehow, when Eddie calls him ‘pretty boy’, Steve knows he’s not actually making fun of him.

Steve likes Eddie, likes his boyishly endearing charm, likes his touchiness towards Steve that no other boy his age is like, likes his messy curls and his ‘holier than thou’ attitude about metal music even though Steve doesn’t get it, like at all. And fuck, Steve really wants Eddie to like him.

It reminds him faintly of when he first started working alongside Robin at Scoops. That thought tickles in the back of his mind, something along the lines of how he had wanted Robin to like him for other reasons, but he doesn’t delve into it.

To Steve, it’s simple: he just wants Eddie to like him.

After the night at the drive-in, between Eddie acting strangely skittish and Robin giving more amused snorts than usual, Steve knows something is up.

He knows they must have discussed something when they sent him on popcorn duty, the bastards. He tries his best to not feel left out; god knows Robin and he have more than a dozen secrets they’ve sworn not to tell anyone but each other.

Besides, Steve trusts Robin to come and tell him if he really needs to know, even if it does worry him a bit. He bites down his anxious thoughts, even trying for a moment to see if there’s a pattern he’s been missing.

That train of thought gets derailed when Steve recalls instead Eddie’s delightful reaction to his new shirt — that Steve definitely hadn’t bought for that specific reason.

Even though Robin had given him that look when he’d first shown it to her — her bright eyes had narrowed, her smile turning a little more coy, and Steve had felt his ears get a little hotter. She hadn’t said anything though, just suggested that he should wear it tomorrow night when they were going out with Eddie.

God, he was glad she suggested it.

Rewinding over Eddie’s parted lips, the way his brown eyes had drank in the details as they trailed up his body and lingered on his arms— Steve had the sudden thought to flex the muscle, just to elicit some reaction, but it had gone out the window at Eddie’s original dismal reaction.

‘Yeah, looks... looks good, man’. Said all aloof, like he hadn’t really thought it. It was like bursting a balloon hidden behind Steve’s ribs, one he wasn’t even aware was there until it was deflating pathetically, making his shoulders sag.

Then— ‘You trying a new style? Going metal on me, big boy?’ And dammit, it’s like Eddie had clocked exactly what calling him ‘big boy’ had done the first time in the Winnebago.

Eddie had then grinned, done another once over of the new shirt, even as Steve pretended to search for his keys and wallet while saying something snarky to try to cover up the heat crawling up his neck. Yet, Steve found himself smiling too because, fuck yes, Eddie liked it too.

But, apparently, whatever Eddie and Robin had discussed wasn’t considered important enough because Robin never brought it up.

The thought and worry about it melt away in Steve’s mind until the memory of that night is about Eddie’s compliment, about his cat-like grin over the popcorn bucket, and how he had leaned over to whisper every bad joke into Steve’s ear all through the movie.

Some of them had been down-right filthy jokes which Eddie only seemed to enjoy more when Steve screwed his face up and nudged Eddie in the ribs, yet unable to hide his smile.

After the third vulgar joke and subsequent nudge, Steve had chided ‘dude’ with a poorly hidden grin. Eddie, smile all cheeky, had nudged him back with a ‘dude’ of his own.

Which, of course, ensued a nudge competition til Robin had given a shush that librarians all over the world would be jealous of. But Steve didn’t even care because he and Eddie were arm to arm, pressed close together and Eddie…didn’t move. Stayed close, like he wanted the closeness the same way Steve did.

Steve only remembers the strange drive-in moment when Robin brings it up finally, on one interesting Saturday night.

It’s not the usual routine; it’s not very often that the whole group gets together to share drinks and get rowdy.

But it was for Robin’s birthday and she’d been persuasive enough to get even the introverts, like Jonathan, to come along. Though, she was aware he’d probably spend the night on a pool lounger, stoned to high heaven. Whatever floats your boat, she’d said, happy for the company in any form.

There’s enough of them there that it almost resembles some sort of party— and makes Steve try not to think about the last small party he threw here. He can tell Nancy notices it too, eyeing the pool a bit too long in a way he’s very familiar with, then taking a swig of beer.

So, Steve heckles them inside — doing a fantastic mothering impression as he waves the group indoors with a promise of pizza, and that has both Jonathan and Argyle perking up and beginning a fast discussion on the best pizza toppings.

Eddie makes a fuss, because of course he does, and moans terribly when Steve tries to roll him off the pool lounger he’s on. He’s had a bit of a joint and some beer, and Steve’s learned that he gets adorably stubborn after some substances.

“Stevie, this is mean,” he had pouted, gripping the edges of the lounger and staring up at Steve with those big brown eyes. “You telling me I did all that bonding with you for nothing? Can’t even lounge by the pool! I’ve got a couch at homeeeee.”

Steve had sent him an amused look of disbelief, hands on his hips after his first round of flicks against Eddie’s arm were apparently fruitless to get him to move. “Really? Didn’t peg you for a gold-digger, Eds.”

Eddie had snorted at that, one hand coming to slap over his mouth. Steve couldn’t quite hear what he had said but the words pegging and anytime slipped through and Steve thinks he could get the gist of that.

“Oh for Christ’s sake,” Steve muttered, feeling the tips of his ears turn warm. He didn’t know how Eddie could be such a menace— or why he enjoyed it so much when he was. Steve waved a hand in the direction of the doors, ignoring Eddie’s delighted snickering. “If you go inside now, you can be on music, alright?”

And that had finally got them all indoors, Eddie whooping and skedaddling through the doors in an instant, with a call of ‘no take backsies!’ echoing behind him.

Inside was much cozier, the whole group a little more connected when squished up on the couches together. Eddie had taken Steve’s word and was jamming a cassette into one of the speakers when Steve made it back inside after scouting around the pool for leftover cans and butts to throw out.

He’s just been thinking about what playful jab he could make at Eddie’s music, like Eddie always did to him when Robin hollered at him from the kitchen.

“Steve!” She’d yelled excitedly and he come to find her quick, brows raised as he entered the kitchen. She was grinning, already a bit jumpy as she got when she had a bit of liquor — but apparently not enough because when Steve saw what she’d called him in for, she’d announced, “Tequila shots!”

Which lead to now. A hazy combination of beer, tequila, and a bit of weed, and Steve is feeling good. Robin had managed to hijack the music not too long ago, with a hiccup of ‘it’s my birthday’ that had Eddie surrendering with a pout.

She’d since put on a bit of everything: some Blondie for Nance, Talking Heads for Jonathan, and some Bowie, just so she and Steve could dance along to ‘Magic Dance’ and she could do all the silly little goblin voices that made them both cackle.

Steve realised at some point that Robin was playing their mixtape, the one she’d made for driving in the morning, and nearly tripped stumbling over to her in his excitement. He grabbed her shoulders, not too hard, and squeezed.

“Is it- is this our mixtape?” Steve asked, words slurring only a bit. Robin gleamed, hair bouncing with her excited nod.

“Yes!” She was already dancing, even though the tape was between songs — because she knew what song was coming. “It’s Springsteen time, Steve!”

Right as the drums to Born to Run filtered out the speaker.

And oh, Steve loves Robin so much. He loves having a best friend that knows his favourite song and gets jittery and excited because she knows it’s about to play— that she put it on this mix for him.

“You’re my best friend!” Steve says, the words bursting out like he can’t control them. He doesn’t even feel embarrassed, just happy, just drunk, and overwhelming happy to be able to have this.

And even though Robin knows this, she still beams, feet dancing along and just begins to sing along with the song, “In the days, we sweat it out on the streets of a runaway American dream…”

It’s a brazen drunken performance from the both of them. Steve’s chest is heaving after just one chorus that he’s pretty sure he put his whole soul into and he’s so fucking happy —and it feels like pure instinct to seek out Eddie, his eyes scouring the room for him.

Eddie’s leaned up against the wall, hiding his smile behind a can and Steve doesn’t think twice about it— doesn’t think about why he’s so drawn to Eddie, why he wants to include him in this happiness — just extends his hand out and grins.

Eddie sees the bid coming this time.

Part Three.

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yes i saw all ur lovely tags and MAYBE cried about it. but thats none of ur business.

@orangeandthefairroadkill @swimmingbirdrunningrock @sadcanadianwinter @phantypurple @omg-elledubs-things @henderdads @farfaras @mixsethaddams @prismandblue @kerlypride @bushbees @legitcookie @temporalcoffin @callmesirkay @beautifully-useless @millyditty @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @ninjapirateunicorns @darkwitchoferie @vi-the-best-you-can @psychosnowfox @desert-fern @scarletzgo @cr0w-culture @softpink-candlelight @livingforfictionalcharacters @makewavesandwar @kozuuji @rhapsodyinalto @eddiethesexy @cassaloopa @lightwoodbanethings @qu33rcommunist @moonlitkilljoy @starkdusk @theysherobinbuckley @sanguineterrain @loganwright @sillysparrow @hotcocoaharrington @eddie-munson-is-my-wife @she-is-tim @steddiehearts @sideblogofthcentury @sidebarre @corrodedcoughin @stevieclaus

#OBLIVIOUS STEVE IS MY FAVOURITE!!!!#idiots in love #they're so important to me ur honour #on god am i gonna make them KISS #but steve's gotta figure it out first lol #ruby writes steddie #steddie #steddie ficlet #i think i can call it a fic now lol each part is 3k+ i think #steddie fic #IF U WANTED TO BE TAGGED AND I DIDNT IM SORRY #lest i come off terribly egotistical i need direct instructions to tag lmao #even then i tagged sum people that just said 'can't wait for part 2!' which? isn't?#I DUNNO #i went off vibes someone said they were vibrating so i was like get over here the next part is here #one of these tags is just a steddie blog i love.... and they reblogged part 1 #corrodedcoughin <3 i love u hehe #the stobin bestie love SHINES in this #i love them so much they are BEST FRIENDS!!!#if u have any ideas... i do love reading the tags and seeing what people want to see next ! im fuckin making it up as i go lol

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stuffedanimalsgalore · 1 month

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What if Peter's decathlon team got like attacked and Peter was forced to reveal his identity as Spiderman to them, instead of how it went down in NWH. But they all promise to keep it a secret. Spiderman, no, Peter parker, just saved their lives, the least they can do is keep his secret. He tells them the dangers that could follow if his identity was revealed. Maybe they all even feel a little special, knowing such a wanted secret. Even Flash keeps his word, although everyone else is confused by his sudden partnership with his 'rival'. They cover for him, and keep his secrets, and help him when they can. Peter has never felt so accepted, having a whole team to back him up.

Peter becomes a lot closer with his decathlon team, and has never felt happier.

#marvel mcu #peter parker #irondad #spiderson #marvel #someone write a fic with me...#this is my favourite thing to think about #i love them

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becca-e-barnes · 10 months

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The Study

Not only is this the start of my 'Moving In' series, I'm also calling it my birthday piece! I turn 24 on Tuesday and I'm trying hard not to think about the fact I'm overdue a quarter-life crisis.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2.7K (oops)

Warnings: Pleasure Dom!Bucky, sub! reader, spanking, use of a vibrator, forced orgasms, kinda Dom vibes but totally consensual, degradation, safe word system but safe word not used, pet names

Summary: Bucky spends the weekend at your new house and you take him on a tour.

Minors, do not interact

Turning the key in the front door still feels odd. One of the very first changes you made to the house was installing a new locking mechanism on both doors and it hasn't had a chance to stiffen up yet.

The smell of paint is starting to dissipate but it hits you hardest when you open the front door. The hallway was one of the last areas of the house to be redecorated so the smell seems to be most noticeable right at the door.

"Damn, this place is deceptive." Bucky's remark makes you smile to yourself while you hang your jacket up. "It's a whole lot bigger on the inside than I thought."

"It surprised me too. All of the rooms are a nice size."

The house had ticked so many boxes for you. More than two bedrooms in a quiet development, a low maintenance garden, off road parking, a downstairs bathroom and the whole house has plenty of potential. The plan isn't to live here forever, after all. It should be easy enough for you to sell when you decide to move on.

You flick a few lights on in the hallway and toss your keys into the bowl on the hall table before you turn your attention back to Bucky standing in your living room. Despite the fact you hadn't removed your own shoes, he's taken his off, leaving them neatly at the doorway of the living room beside his travel bag.

He's respectful of your space; he always has been but it's nice to just have him in your space. It's nice to have him be part of it.

He walks slowly around the little living room, looking at the few ornaments and picture frames you'd collected. "That's cute." He's looking at a picture of you and your best friend, sitting on the floor of your old kitchen, laughing yourselves to tears over the fact your Christmas tree was three inches tall and cut out from the back of a cereal box. The photo brings a smile to your face every time you see it.

"Are you hungry? You've had a long day." You move over behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and kissing his back through his clothes while he looks at your pictures on the fireplace. He's had to travel for a few hours just to get here so you imagine he's bound to want something.

"I'm okay for now." You nod at his response, taking in the fact he's actually standing in your home.

The time you have with him is limited. That's how this works but for just less than two days, he's yours. After that, he'll go back home so you've learned to make the most of the time you have with him.

"Help yourself to whatever you like. Kitchen is down the hall." You don't even really want to move but you can't stand like this forever.

He turns in your arms so he's facing you and captures your lips in his. It's a soft, slow, gentle kiss; the kind you've been dreaming of since you last saw him. You need him to feel exactly how much you've missed him without having to tell him.

The kiss lasts for minutes, far beyond its natural end but neither of you care.

After what feels like forever, your lips part but your foreheads stay pressed together, both of you determined not to pull away.

"I still haven't gotten the grand tour." He's got the most beautiful eyes and they're locked on yours to the point that you'd almost forgotten he's never been here before. "But I want to start in your favourite room."

"Well, the study is my favourite. I converted one of the bedrooms into an office space."

"Show me."

You don't protest. Instead you head out of the living room and up the stairs to the furthest end of the hallway, with Bucky following closely behind you.

"These all used to be built-in storage units around a headboard for a bed. I took all the doors off the cabinets and made it into shelving." You'd turned the room into a space that you love. The walls are painted a light shade of cream with houseplants lined up between books on the shelves. Instead of storage around a headboard, you now have book shelves, arching around your desk. The other side of the room has a sofa that converts into a bed for extra guests and there's a beanbag in the corner by the window to read on.

"I see why it's your favourite. Odd mix of books here though." Bucky's eyes flick over the titles, ranging from your collection of political figures' autobiographies, the 'Diary of an Oxygen Thief' trilogy, the selection of books providing commentary on the criminal justice system and a good few classics.

"It is. But I like this room. It'll be cosy in winter once I get some fairy lights and nice and bright in summer. Somewhere to unwind." You're thinking out loud as you reach up to close the window and that's when you feel Bucky step behind you.

"I think we should celebrate." Bucky’s voice is low, his lips trailing up the side of your neck, heading towards the spot just behind your ear that he's always loved to kiss.

"I think..." He stops briefly on his path, taking a second to inhale deeply, determined to slow down. "I think we should make love in every room of your new house this weekend."

Fuck.

"Are you sure you're up for that? Because I can really stretch it out. I'm not sure how we're going to make it work in the pantry or the downstairs bathroom but I'm happy to try."

"Your 'pantry' is a cupboard." Bucky's breath is hot on your neck, and you feel his lips have curled into a smile.

"I know. You promised every room though." You can't help but tease him, although you're half serious. It's not your fault that you're keen. Not when he's kissing down your neck like that and holding your waist so your back is flush against him.

"You're a handful." You feel his fingertips graze the bare skin of your waist and you remember how nice it is to just be touched the way he touches you.

"I might be a handful but I can promise if I have my way, after you leave here on Sunday, you won't even be able to think about cumming again until Thursday at the very earliest."

"Jesus, that's one hell of a promise." He turns you around to face him and you notice his eyes are damn near twinkling with excitement.

You've got all weekend together; there's no need to rush but you can't help the overwhelming need to feel him sliding into you. That's when you feel closest to him and it's the closeness you're craving more than anything.

Your hand cups the side of his face, your thumb tracing across his freshly shaved jawline and you allow yourselves a second to just be together.

He smells familiar. The heat of his body against yours makes you feel safe. He makes you feel safe.

"I want to start with you though. I brought you a little something." He kisses your lips gently and smooths a hand down over your hair before he retreats downstairs to the bag that he'd brought a few changes of clothes in.

He returns with a small cardboard box with the tape on one end already cut.

"I didn't have time to wrap it. It arrived last minute." You're so busy trying to get into the box that you hadn't even noticed.

Inside the box are a few instruction manuals, a thin white cord and a black satin pouch. Inside the pouch is a neon pink toy that's thicker at each end, narrow in the middle and nicely curved.

"I've already charged it and paired it to my phone. This end slips inside you." He points to the thicker end, studying your face to make sure you're okay with this.

And why wouldn't you be? This is pretty damn close to a dream come true.

"Remember what you said last time I saw you? You wanted me to spank you. Maybe we should take it a little further." He's always been hesitant to do anything that would hurt you and that fact is the very reason you want him to. You know how much he wants to protect you and knowing he cares about you has you convinced that he's the right person to explore this with.

"Please." You whisper, beyond excited at the thought of getting everything you've begged him for. "What did you have in mind?"

"I'm thinking about you bent over this desk with this inside you and we'll start off with a couple of light taps to that pretty ass." He presses the button on the narrow part of the toy and it give a short buzz, coming to life in his hands.

Fuck, you're into this man. You're into his hesitation just as much as you're into his willingness to try something new.

"Traffic light safe word system. 'Red' and I'll stop, 'amber' and I'll give you a break, 'green' to keep going." He wants to be fully sure you know you're in control here, not that you ever had any doubt.

You nod and stretch up on your tiptoes to kiss him, this time with as much passion as you can manage. Your hands run through his hair while his trail over your body, your tongue flicking gently against his.

Just being around this man makes you wet, not that you'd ever admit that to him. Even the thought of him has you throbbing with arousal so now that he's here in front of you, your whole body feels like it's buzzing.

He touches you like he can't get enough. He can't get you close enough and it's beyond thrilling to be the subject of his need.

It's almost embarrassing that you get yourself worked up so easily but from the hungry look in his eyes when you undo the button of your jeans, he doesn't seem to mind.

You step out of your jeans and panties and Bucky helps you out of your top and bra, leaving you naked in your study.

"Look at you." Bucky sounds like he's almost in awe, no matter how many times he's seen you naked.

He kisses you again, matching the same passion he'd had earlier, trailing his hands over your soft, warm skin until his fingers are nestled between your thighs.

"Fuck, you're soaked." His fingertips trail between the folds of your sex, gathering the wetness he's responsible for. "Good girls don't get this wet at the thought of being spanked. You know that, don't you?"

You're almost too turned on to even respond to him. "Bend over. I want to see how well you take your toy."

You do as you're told, bending over your desk while Bucky drops to his knees behind you to slip the toy inside you. You feel him trail the thicker end of the toy against your slick cunt, gathering enough wetness to let it slip inside you comfortably.

Within a minute, the toy comes to life inside you and there's no way to stifle the moan that catches in your throat.

Not only is the internal part vibrating at a low, delightful buzz, the other end is pressed right to your clit and is stimulating it at the same strength.

"Did I say you could make a sound?" Bucky quizzes, sounding harsher than ever and when he gets no response, his hand comes down on your ass with so much force that it makes you yelp.

It was a hell of a spank and you can feel heat blooming under the skin of your left cheek, quickly followed by another spank to the right.

"For the record, you can make as much noise as you need to. But only because I've told you that you can. You see the difference?"

You force yourself not to nod and it has the effect you were hoping for. Two more harsh, painful spanks are delivered, one to each cheek, the same as before.

You don't know if you imagined it but the toy inside you feels stronger. You can't be sure if you're just focusing on the pleasure over the pain or if Bucky really has turned it up.

"Does that feel nice, sweetheart?" He needs to know you're enjoying this because a little part of him is surprised at just how much he's into it. He gets to control both your pleasure and your pain because you want him to and the trust alone is enough to get him off.

"Feels amazing, fuck. Making such a mess." Stringing sentences together isn't easy but you swear you're about to cum already. Your nipples rub delightfully against the wooden desk and you swear every sensation is heightened.

"I wish you could see the mess you're making. Looks fucking delicious." He turns the toy up ever so slightly but that's enough to send you spiralling, gripping the edge of the desk as pleasure ripples through your entire body.

You can do nothing but sob, cumming relentlessly because he's refused to turn the toy down. Even after you're done, he keeps it at the same intensity, moving on like nothing happened.

"You say the sluttiest things. That promise of yours to totally drain me. Who says shit like that? So fucking filthy."

"I mean it. I want every drop of cum you can give me. And then more." You know saying something like that will earn you another spank and it does.

"You're not just acting like a slut. You are a slut. You spend your life hiding it from everyone else but you can't hide it from me." A shiver runs down your spine. You almost feel like you've been caught. Like he's figured you out and now you have nothing left to hide. "Say it."

It's a clear instruction but saying it makes it real.

Your hesitation earns you another sharp spank, heat prickling both your face and your ass at the same time.

"Don't make me tell you twice." For someone hesitant to slip into a dominant role, he's absolutely nailing it.

"I'm your slut." Your voice is less steady than you would've hoped but the words at clear at the very least.

"My slut?" He almost sounds like he can't believe what he heard.

"Yours. Your slut." You repeat, wishing you could see his face.

"Oh sweetheart, that's cute." He means it too. He turns the toy up as a reward and even though it's only at half its full strength, you can't help but cum again, pleading your way through another blinding orgasm.

"Such a good girl for me. That's it. Cum nice and hard. Give that slutty little pussy what it needs." He lands one more harsh spank on your ass and you swear it only makes you cum harder, to the point that your legs are shaking.

But all of a sudden, the sensation stops completely.

"B-Bucky?" You ask, turning around to look at him, wondering if something went wrong.

"Don't want to wear you out, sweetheart. I think that'll do for now." You agree that it's probably a good place to stop and you have no problem taking the toy out for a while.

He pulls you in close, resting your head on his chest, letting you catch your breath while he holds you and kisses your forehead.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" His voice is soft, hoping that you'll tell him the truth.

"No. It was perfect." You smile, capturing his lips in yours, hoping to relieve some of his fear. You're almost giddy with excitment. It truly was everything you needed and you fully intend to thank him for it before the weekend is over.

"Good. I enjoyed it more than I thought I would." He's back to the gentle, tender touches that you're so used to from him and it's a blessing that he can flick so effortlessly between both personas.

"How about we order in and stick a movie on?" He suggests, kissing the tip of your nose. "Go put on something comfortable. I'll find a takeout."

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x you #dad’s best friend!bucky #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #marvel fanfic #bucky barnes fic #dbf!bucky #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x female reader smut #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #writing this was unexpectedly nostalgic #one of my favourite photos is of Amy and I sitting on the floor of my student flat in December a few years ago #we were drinking wine and working on an assignment and she noticed the only Christmas decoration we had was cut out from a cereal box #she laughed so hard she cried #I got to tell her recently about the house #but I hadn't even thought about the fact we can make as many happy memories in my new place as we did in my old uni flat #and that's made me even more excited #it's so weird to think that this is my last birthday in this house though

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casdeans-pie · 3 months

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Did somebody say snippet from my current wip?? Misuse of prayer anyone????? I just wish I could get to the part where Cas says, "I really don't think you want to be doing this with your brother in the room." because Dean is inadvertently doing the angel equivalent of whispering intimately straight into Cas's ear. Angels are so goddamn weird and I cannot wait to write this whole thing.

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Boredom itched under Dean's skin. He hadn't even registered most of what he'd read on the last few pages, just turned over onto a new one every minute or so. His head sat heavy in his hand, elbow planted onto the table next to his book, and he had to resist the urge to yawn as he turned another page.

Dean glanced up at Sam, sat further down the table, with his nose pressed down close to his own book. If Dean had any hopes that Sam might be struggling to concentrate as much as him, he didn't see any evidence of it.

Cas, of course, looked as interested as he always did. He sat directly opposite Dean reading a huge book with an intensity in his expression that would be the same whether he was reading apocalyptic scriptures or nursery rhymes. A fond warmth settled in his chest.

Dean tried to follow their example and return to his own research, but after only a few minutes his leg began to bounce.

Eventually his mind wondered to the book that he'd been writing himself. It had been difficult to think of how he could write a book on Angels and get the information that he needed out of Cas without telling him about it. But a silent room, with all of Cas's focused attention on something else, felt like a perfect opportunity to get some material on prayer...

Dean tried to clear his mind (easy enough, not like he'd been paying any attention to his book) and had to resist the urge to physically clear his throat before starting.

"Cas," Dean thought, trying to make it loud inside his own head.

Dean peeked up, but Cas had had no reaction. Dude didn't even blink.

Huh.

Either his poker face is just that good, or it hadn't worked.

Thinking it loudly wasn't the same as praying, Dean supposed.

He breathed out slowly and stared at Cas, drinking in every detail of him. Praying meant faith, right? He had that. He absolutely had that. More fucking faith in Cas than anyone in the whole world.

"Cas..." slipped out of Dean's mind in a whisper, a plea, a declaration of that unwavering faith.

Cas jumped so violently that his knees slammed against the underside of the table. His eyes were opened wide and his breath came out in fast gasps like he couldn't catch it.

"Cas? You okay?" Sam called over, concern pinching his eyebrows together.

Cas stared intensely at Dean and he didn't even look away as he replied, "Fine, thank you, Sam. I- uh- I read something shocking in this book."

Sam looked unconvinced and switched his attention to Dean.

Dean shrugged in a you know what Cas is like way, and eventually Sam returned to his book with a small shake of his head.

So his prayer definitely worked. That much felt obvious.

Now he just had to do it again.

"Cas..." Dean prayed again.

This time Cas's eyes opened wider but he didn't react otherwise.

"Cas, blink twice if you can hear me..."

#this is soooo much fun to write #i cant wait to use some of my favourite tags in my own fic !!!#destiel #destiel ficlet

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enderpearlll · 2 years

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Yandere!Bob Velseb - My Favourite Employee. PT 2.

Um. So this is way longer than I expected so there’ll probably be a part three and four. Sorry not sorry. Can you also tell I don’t edit my work?

Gender-Neutral reader, but pet names such as darling, sweetie, sweetheart, and sweet pea are used.

TW/CW: Yandere content, stalking, descriptions of paranoia and anxiety, brief panic attacks, etc.

• That evening Bob walked you home, you felt sick to your stomach. The smell of Bobs cologne was soothing and stuck to your clothes even after you took off his jacket, but that didn't fully rid of the anxiety building in your stomach.

• Maybe it was the build up of stress…. Yeah, that was it. You decided to give up your shifts for the next three days, thinking that a break from work would be refreshing. But that night when you were getting ready for bed, you felt like you were being watched. Like someone was there with you... It definitely didn't help with the paranoia.

• It was a restless night, spent tossing and turning in hopes that no one was actually watching you and that it was all in your head. Luckily your coworkers were understanding, but when you called in the next morning Bob was distraught. He called you nonstop until you answered.

“What happened? Are you sick or somethin’ sweet pea?!” “Yeah, I asked someone else to take my shifts for a few days, hope you can understand…” “… Of course I do darlin’! Just take it easy, okay?” “Alright, thank you so much Bob!”

• You felt relieved that Bob understood your dilemma, and soon enough you calmed down and spent the whole day trying to relax. After a few hours of bliss, you felt that horrible feeling crawl down your neck again. You walked into the kitchen to grab a snack when you felt eyes on your back. With a shaky sigh, you scavenged through the kitchen for a snack to distract yourself. Turns out that it didn’t help and your kitchen was barren.

• You decided to get some fresh air to calm down, going for a walk to the grocery store. But even on the way there you felt like someone was following you. It didn’t help that you actually heard footsteps and eerie snapping. Like a camera shutter going off… So you practically ran the entire way. When you got to the store you felt soothed in the public eye. At least there was other people around so creeps wouldn’t dare to pull anything in a public place.

• But that only made you think harder. Should you call the police? Eventually you decided against it, seeing as it was only a gut feeling that you were going off of. And you didn’t want to know if someone was actually watching you, not at all. You’d rather live in blissful ignorance.

• You were at the snack isle, shoving a bunch of junk food into your basket. You were debating on whether or not you should buy actual food when you felt a tap on your shoulder. You nearly jumped out of your skin and quickly turned around to face the culprit. It was Bob! (Wait, wasn’t the restaurant still open—) He laughed at your jumpy attitude and pat your back, wiping a tear from his eye. “Woah there, sweetheart!” “Hah, sorry. I wasn’t expecting to see you here, Bob.”

• Bob chides you for your horrible food choices, poking fun at you. You felt safer with him around, walking around the grocery store as you both talked about life. You didn’t ask him why he was off work so early, deciding to focus on the task at hand. Eventually you leave with a cart full of groceries, to which Bob was happy to help you take home.

• You let him walk you home again, feeling much more comfortable walking back with him. You felt bad for making him carry almost all of the bags though, but Bob was persistent on carrying all of them. Of course you didn’t let him do it all by himself so he made you take the lightest bags. When you got home, Bob let himself in and helped you put everything away.

• You felt weirded out seeing your boss look so domestic, his cheeks a bright red as he hummed a tune while asking you where the cereal went. When all was said and done, Bob asked if you wanted something to eat. You politely declined and said that you could just order out, but Bob was appalled at the idea.

“What?! No way, I can’t have my darlin’ eating junk when you’re feeling sick! Don’t worry ‘bout nothin’, I won’t poison ya!” “… You make me burgers for lunch everyday.” “Well, that’s my cookin’! I don’t wanna have you eat something that I didn’t cook for ya myself.”

• Inevitably, you caved into his offer and you both began to make some chicken noodle soup. When you put on an apron, Bob began to drool and blush red hot. You blamed it on the heat in your house, chopping vegetables. Bob was doing most of the cooking, you measured out the ingredients since he wanted you to take it easy. (Even though it was your own kitchen—) “My lovely chef! Where would I be without ya?”

• You loved Bob’s cooking, so when it was time to eat you were impatient. And wow, was it worth all of the effort! You felt all warm and cozy sipping at the hot broth, giving compliments to the chef. Bob was flustered at your praise, cleaning up the kitchen as you ate to your hearts desire. “Aw, thanks darlin’. I’m happy to cook for ya any time!” “Wait, aren’t you going to eat too?” “O—Oh! Um, I’m not the biggest fan of chicken myself, heh.”

• Bob left after tidying up, wishing you a farewell as he trekked back into the cold. It was a chilly night, so before he left you gave him some gloves and his jacket. Bob was literally shaking at the notion, uttering a strangled thank you as you slid the gloves onto his fingers. (Mind you, he was a big guy so he didn’t exactly fit them.) Now that you were alone again, you didn’t feel as paranoid again. Having Bob around was a nice distraction.

• You settled down with a movie and some popcorn, calling your coworker to check up on them. Other than Bob, you grew rather close to them. “Hey!” “Oh, what’s up? How you feeling?” “I’m feeling way better now, I bumped into boss at the store today. He even cooked for me, ha.” “Oh, that’s where he was! Boss closed the restaurant early today after getting off the phone with someone, he was frantic. In the middle of lunch rush too!” “… What?” “Oh yeah, he even called in sick for the next few days too.”

• Guilt seeped into your skin, a familiar feeling of dread sinking in as you dropped your phone. Bob closed the restaurant for YOU?! “—Bro? Hello? Dude, you okay?” Your coworker asked, worried sick. You picked up the phone with shaking hands, curling into a tight ball. “I… Uh, I gotta go. I’ll call you later.” “What—? *beep*”

• You pinched the bridge of your nose, your heart pounding out of your chest. It was probably a coincidence, you were definitely just imagining things. Bob would never close the restaurant unless it was an absolute emergency, so why would he..? You shook your head and turned off the TV, ready to head to bed before you kept yourself awake with your thoughts.

• As you hauled yourself into your room, you didn’t notice the splotches of steam left on your window, left behind from someone’s erratic breathing. As you brushed your teeth, you didn’t notice the sound of your window sliding open. Nor did you hear the sound of a camera shutter as you washed your face, trying to shake off the feeling of something watching you.

• Turns out he got too desperate, seeing as you walked out and were greeted with the silhouette of the devil-horned man. You screamed at the top of your lungs, watching as his impossibly wide grin drooped down. His chest heaved up and down as he wiped away his drool, heart beating out of his chest. You ran into your washroom and slammed the door behind you, rocking back and forth as you dialled the police station.

• This couldn’t be happening, no way. When someone picked up on the other end, you let tears of relief fall down your face. “Hello, police station—?” “T—There’s someone in my house, I think they broke in!” You sobbed into the speaker, cupping the phone close to your face. You quickly told them your address, desperately gasping for air. It was a few minutes before sirens blared through the streets, waking everyone up at 12 in the morning.

• You heard the door slam open, the sound of someone walking in echoed throughout the house. You waited until they reached your bedroom before clambering out of the washroom, running into a brown-haired officer. “Woah there, are you alright?” You could barely form a proper sentence, on the verge of a panic attack. Another officer came in the room, concern laced on his features. “There’s no one here, John. I think they ran.”

• You fell onto your knees, shaking and trembling on the cold floor. “I swear, someone was here! Please, you’ve got to believe me—! He was wearing a devil costume—“ The older officer named John kneeled down to your level, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Don’t worry, we believe you. Jack, let’s do one last search.” And they left you in the living room with a blanket they found, searching the house one last time.

• “There was no one to be found, but your bedroom window was wide open.” Jack said, watching as John inspected the lock on your door. John sighed and scratched his chin before checking the time. “Keep all of your doors and windows locked, we’ll keep an eye out. Call us if you have any more trouble.” He left you with those words of advice before him and Jack made their leave. None of what they said helped you at all, only serving to make you even more paranoid.

• You grabbed your phone from your pocket, checking the time. It was two in the morning, the cops had spent two hours searching your house for the intruder. You sighed and went to your contacts before clicking on the one that said “Boss.”. You bit your lips as you waited for the phone to ring, tears welling in your eyes. “…Hello? Sweet pea, what’s wrong? You okay?” “B—Bob, can you come over? Someone tried to break in a—and—!” You broke down sobbing, hearing frantic crashing and shuffling on the other side of the phone.

“Sit tight, I’m on my way sweetheart.”

(End of part two. Gotta love cliffhangers.)

#yandere headcanons #yandere blog #yandere fic #yandere x reader #yandere bob velseb #yandere spooky month #yandere writing #yandere x you #yandere #bob velseb x reader #bob velseb #spooky month x reader #spooky month #my favourite employee

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rustingcat · 8 months

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Chapter 2 romance

"You were part of the science guild?" Lena asked, astonished.

They were in Zor-El's lab in the floating city of Argo. After showing them the plans, he insisted on giving them a tour of his new lab in the guild's grounds.

"Yeah," Kara simply mumbled in response.

"Not only that," Zor-El continued. "But she was the top of her class! She was going to be the youngest member in all of Krypton's history."

"Father, you're exaggerating."

"Not at all. She has been my personal assistant in my lab since she was five years old, helping me finish that kellex update that was driving me crazy."

"I never knew." Lena studied Kara's familiar figure. She still found so many ways to surprise her, Lena wondered what else she was hiding under that sheepish smile.

"That I was a nerd?"

"No, that I knew, I have seen your watch history on netflix. But I never knew you were into science, you always seemed baffled when I talked about it."

"Yeah, well, earth has different terminology you see, also a slight difference in gravity, which makes things different, not to mention the periodic table and all of that… But I also just wanted to dive into something different after I came to earth." Kara studied the table closely, testing the edge of it with her fingernails. Her smile, while still very present on her face, never really reached her eyes.

"And why is that, Inah? You could've advanced earth's understanding by lightyears," Zor-El proclaimed.

"It's just–" she stopped for a moment, "didn't seem right at the time." She finished instead, flashing her father a bigger grin. Kara's eyes were always smiling, but Lena could see how forced the smile really was, as if there was something else simmering underneath.

"Kara,I could really use some fresh air. Why don't you join me?" Lena quickly suggested it before Zor-El could respond.

"Yeah."

The air in Argo felt different. She wasn't sure if it was for the lack of pollution, or simply the fact that it was an alien territory.

"Do you want to go back? We got what we came for. I know you said you wanted to spend some time with your parents, but you seem so uncomfortable Kara, we can just go back."

"No," Kara trailed away with uncertainty. She was quiet for a while. Lena decided to wait for her to continue as they walked side by side through the alien city Kara once called home.

"I should want to spend time with them right? They are my parents. Wouldn't you want to spend more time with your mother if you had the chance?" Kara asked, almost pleading for something in her voice.

"I… yes?" Lena wasn't sure what to say. "I would like to say yes, but I don't know… I found so many things out about her when I visited her hometown. I suppose I don't really know what she was really like, if we would even get along." That trip to Ireland really shook the image of her mother she had conjured in her mind, she was quite honestly afraid to learn more.

"We never really know our parents do we?" Kara chuckled bitterly. She paused for a moment before she continued. "I wanted them so badly when I first came to earth. I saw them everywhere, from the supermarket, to my school teachers to my dreams, always coming to rescue me back home. I looked up to them, I always wanted to impress my mum, and I wanted to be just like my dad when I grew up." Kara stopped next to some railing at the end of the town, securing the cliff from falling to the refugee encampment below. She rested her arms on the top of the cool metal and looked at the sky, her eyes drifting miles away.

"Then why didn't you pursue science on earth?" Lena asked gently.

"Kal and the Danvers were always going on about how I should hide my identity, anything that might make me alien. It's not just my powers, it was the cultural differences, mannerism, accent, pop culture, everything. You know I learned calculus when I was four, so I feared showing any of that in school would raise suspicion." She took a deep breath and turned to face Lena, leaning her back against the railing. "Also, I suppose, after a while, thinking about that stuff just started to hurt. It always reminded me of home, and it just hurt to think about it."

"I'm sorry if I ever made you uncomfortable in any way." Lena took a step closer, but feared reaching out. She held herself out of habit, fearing she might have hurt her best friend for years without realising it.

"No, Lena you didn't hurt me, quite the opposite actually. After years I managed to avoid thinking about it, I focused on other activities and studies and just tried to keep myself from sticking out. After becoming Supergirl I learned some new information about my parents, realised that everything I thought about them was wrong. I held both them and Krypton on such a high pedestal, without even knowing them at all, not really anyway. When I met you, you reminded me of why I fell in love with science, engineering and innovating. You always talk with so much love and enthusiasm about each project, always trying to make the world a better place. You made it everything I thought it was, everything it should be."

Lena felt her cheeks flash as a smile spread on her face. "Maybe we can try to work on it together. If you're interested of course." She walked next to the railing, putting both hands to stabilize herself as she looked at the valley below.

"Yes. I'd love that." Kara smiled, turning back towards the valley only shifting closer to Lena so they stood almost shoulder to shoulder.

"Good. Then we can maybe even finish it in time for their wedding, it would be the perfect timing for them to know that they can feel secure about their future and know they can raise a family in whatever way they choose."

Kara let out a small laugh, almost a giggle as the smile finally returned to her face.

"What?" Lena inquired with a matching smile on her lips.

"It's just, everything on earth is always so romantic."

"Romantic?"

"Yeah. It was always so cold and calculated on Krypton. Everything has a very clear purpose and the drive for creation was always efficiency. But on earth there's always a story, a connection. Everything feels like art, you lot romanticise everything. It's one of my favourite things about earth."

Lena's smile grew wider. Despite everything she went through, Kara still had this wonderful optimistic and hopeful outlook on everything that radiated positivity wherever she went. Lena let herself bask in it whenever she could, feeling lucky to simply be granted the opportunity. She wasn't sure what possessed her to ask her next question.

"Do you want kids?" Her body flushed red hot when she realised what she just asked.

"Yes, I always wanted kids." Kara answered simply, as if she didn't find the sudden question strange. "How about you? Do you want kids?"

Lena took a moment, taking a deep breath before she answered. "I… Well, I grew up with the Luthors and they are not the kind of family you want to bring a child to." She said with a forced smile.

"But, do you want to?"

"Maybe? Yes. I suppose with the right person. I fear I might be a terrible mum."

"What? No! Lena, you would be an amazing mother. I just know it." Kara's smile almost made her believe it. "You'd have two amazing super smart kids-"

"Two?" Lena asked, amused with a raised brow.

"At least two," Kara nodded to herself. "And they would be the smartest kids in school and win every award in whatever sport they choose to participate in."

"Oh, are they athletes, too?"

"Of course, sport is very important Lena." Kara answered seriously.

Lena laughed in response. She loved how ridiculous Kara could be.

"And I would spoil them rotten of course. Giving them the best snacks and telling them the funniest jokes."

"You would, wouldn't you." It was said as a statement. Damn Kara and her descriptions, she could almost see it in her mind.

"Yes! I would be the coolest aunt! Their favourite aunt Kara." She finished with a satisfied grin.

"Aunt Kara." Lena's words felt bitter in her mouth, yet she tried to force her best genuine smile.

"And you would get to be cool aunt Lena as well, of course. Oh, we should definitely try to have our kids at the same time so they could grow up to be best friends." Kara added excitedly.

"Yeah," Lena feared her smile might come off as a bit manic. "We certainly should."

"We'll make sure they know they have no expectations they need to fulfill, so they can grow up free to be who they are." Kara continued in a lower voice, saying it almost to herself, turning her head to watch the sky.

"You'd make a great mum too, Kara." Lena said with all the honesty she could master, probably carrying slightly more emotions then she intended.

Kara smiled, shifting a bit closer, to lean some of her weight on Lena's shoulder as they continued to watch the starry night above them.

Read here on ao3

#that was my favourite to write so far #supercorptober #supercorp #supergirl #kara danvers #lena luthor #supercorptober2023 #my art #my fic

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