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joelmillerisapunk · 3 months

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Bfd/dbf catches u showering and/or masterbating please 🤲

you got me thinkin' nonsense

Dbf!Joel Miller x F!reader

Masterlist

Wordcount: 2,478

Summary: Joel's asked to watch you and your parents' house while they're away, and boy, does he take watching you seriously.

Warnings: 18+, f!oral receiving, unprotected p in v, reader has pullable hair, implied age gap (make it your own) use of darlin, sweetheart, baby, a bit of Joel convincing you.

Notes: my first request! Thank you, thank you, sweet nonnie 🥰 I hope you enjoy. I love a good dbf catching you doing anything. Also about to hit a milestone with followers and I'm hoping to do a lil fun thing for it 🥰 thank you to everyone for being so amazing and kind and lovely and welcoming. My short time here has been so so warm 💚 tysm @saradika-graphics for the dividers

It had been a long day for Joel Miller. He just finished a grueling shift at the fire station and was looking forward to some much-needed rest and relaxation. But his plans were quickly dashed when he received a call from his best buddy, your dad.

"Hey, Joel. I hate to ask, but I need a favor," Al says, his voice sounds strained.

Joel sits up in his chair, immediately alert. "What's goin’ on?"

"Jen and I are taking a trip to the Bahamas for a week, and we were wondering if you could check up on the house and our daughter while we're gone.”

Joel sighs, running a hand through his greying hair. "Sure. But you know she’s not a little girl anymore, right? She's a grown woman now."

Your dad chuckles. "I know, I know. But she's still my little girl, and I just want to make sure she's okay while we're gone."

Joel smiles, feeling a surge of affection for his friend. "No problem. I'll keep an eye on her."

A week later Joel finds himself standing outside of his best friend Al's house, the keys jingling in his hand. He takes a deep breath and inserts the key into the lock, turning it until he hears the satisfying click of the door opening. Joel walks into the house, taking in the familiar sights and smells. He feels a pang of nostalgia as he looks around the living room, remembering all the times he and Al hung out here, watching football and drinking beer.

But there's no sight of you. so he makes his way down the hall, peeking into each room until he comes to your door.

But you're not in your room.

He frowns, wondering where you are. It's not like you to wander off without telling anyone. Even as a grown adult, you still always made sure someone knew your whereabouts. He checks his phone, but there are no messages or missed calls. As he turns back to the hall, he hears the faint sound of a voice coming from what sounds like the bathroom. So he decides to check just in case.

As he approaches, he hears the sound of water running and the faint sound of moaning. He pauses, his heart racing as he realises what's happening behind the closed door. He knows he shouldn't, but he can't help it. Without thinking, he reaches out and turns the doorknob, pushing the door open just a crack. He can see you through the foggy glass, your naked body glistening with water.

His eyes widen as he takes in the sight before him. You're standing under the pulsing stream of water, your hand between your legs as you bring yourself to climax. He knows he shouldn't be watching this, but he can't bring himself to look away. He feels a surge of desire course through his veins as he watches you pleasure yourself.

You tilt your head back, letting the water run down your neck and body, and he can't help but stare. His eyes are drawn to the way your hips move as you touch yourself. The way you're grasping the walls to get some leverage. He feels his own body responding, his cock growing painfully hard in his pants.

He reaches down and unzips his jeans, pulling out his thick, ready erection, filling his hand. He starts to stroke himself, his eyes never leaving your body. He can feel his balls tighten as he watches you get closer and closer to your own orgasm.

But just as you're about to come, your eyes widen in shock as you catch sight of Joel standing in the doorway, his jeans unzipped and his thick, hard cock in his hand. You gasp, your body freezing in surprise as you realize that he's been watching you.

"Joel, what the fuck are you doing here?" you demand, trying to cover yourself with your hands.

But Joel doesn't seem to hear you. His eyes are fixed on your body, his hand moving a little faster as he strokes himself.

"Don't stop on my account, sweetheart," he says, his voice low and husky. "You look so fuckin' hot, touchin' yourself like that."

You feel a surge of anger and embarrassment, but there's something else there too – something that makes your heart race and your body tingle. You've always had a bit of a crush on Joel, and now here he is, watching you pleasure yourself.

"Fuck you," you say, trying to sound angry. But your voice comes out breathless and shaky, betraying your arousal.

Joel chuckles, stepping into the bathroom and closing the door behind him. "Oh, I fully intend to fuck you, sweetheart," he says, his eyes blazing with desire. Joel advances towards you, his cock still in his hand. You back away, your heart pounding in your chest. You know you should be angry, but all you can feel is a deep, primal desire.

"Joel, this is wrong," you say, but your voice is weak and uncertain.

Joel reaches out and strokes your cheek, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "Sometimes, wrong can feel so right," he murmurs.

But you don't budge.

Joel's eyes soften as he looks at you. "Hey, hey," he says softly. "I'm not here to cause any trouble. Your dad asked me to check up on you while they're gone, that's all. I didn't mean to intrude." He pauses for a moment, then continues. "But I can't deny what I saw just now. You looked so beautiful, so alive. I'm not saying this is how things have to be, but I want you to know that I'm here for you, in whatever way you need me."

You can feel your heart racing as you look at Joel, your body trembling with a mixture of embarrassment, anger, and desire. You know that what he's suggesting is wrong, that it could ruin your relationship with your dad. But there's something about the way he's looking at you, that makes you want to throw caution to the wind.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "Joel, I don't w -”

He takes a step back before you finish, putting his hands up like you're playing cops and robbers. You can see the disappointment in his eyes as he puts himself back into his jeans and turns to leave. But just as he reaches for the doorknob, you hear yourself say something unexpected.

"Wait," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "I - I do want this, Joel, please. I just, I really don't know -"

Joel's expression darkens as he turns back around and walks up to you. He reaches out to grab a handful of your hair, pulling your head back so that you're looking up at him. "You don't have to know, sweetheart," he growls. "You just have to feel." He leans down to kiss you, his lips crushing against yours as his tongue demands entry into your mouth. You moan softly, your body melting against his as you kiss him back, your hands reaching up to clutch at his shoulders.

When the kiss breaks, you see Joel smile, his eyes burning with desire. "Let's not waste any more time." He takes your hand, pulling you toward the bathtub. "Get on the edge, darlin’," he orders, his voice rough with desire.

You do as he says, your heart pounding in your chest as you watch him move around the bathtub, positioning himself between your legs. He looks at you, his eyes blazing with desire as he reaches out and touches you, his fingers sliding easily between your wet folds.

"You're so wet," he murmurs, his voice thick with lust. "You want this as much as I do dont’cha?” Joel's fingers explore your body, teasing and tantalizing you as he strokes your slick folds. You moan softly, your hips bucking up to meet his touch as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. "Please, Joel," you gasp, your voice desperate with need. "Need more."

Joel smirks, his eyes glinting with mischief. "More, huh? Well, let's see if we can't take care of that for ya, baby." He leans down, his mouth replacing his fingers as he starts to lick and suck at your clit. You cry out, your hands reaching down to clutch at his head as he devours you with an intensity that takes your breath away.

"Fuck, Joel," you gasp, your body trembling with pleasure. "Don't stop, please, don't stop."

Joel chuckles, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. "I have no intention of stopping, sweetheart," he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. "I'm going to make you come harder than you ever have before."

True to his word, Joel doesn't stop, his tongue works magic on your clit as his fingers plunge deep inside you, curling up to hit the sweetest spot. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your body tensing up as you approach your climax.

"Joel, I'm gonna come," you gasp.

Joel doesn't respond, his mouth and fingers continuing their relentless assault on your body. You can feel yourself spiraling out of control, your climax building up inside of you like a tidal wave.

"Joel, I'm coming!" You scream, your body convulsing with pleasure as you shatter into a thousand pieces. You grip onto Joel as hard as you can but doesn't let up, his tongue continues to lap at your clit as you ride out your orgasm, your body trembling with aftershocks.

When it's over, Joel pulls back, a satisfied smile on his face as he looks up at you. "See? Told you I'd make you come harder than you ever have."

You can't help but smile back, your body still tingling with pleasure. "You definitely did," you admit, your voice soft and dreamy.

Joel stands up, his cock hard and ready again beneath his jeans. "Good, I'm not done with you yet." He takes your hand leading you to your bed, instructing you to sit on the edge while he undresses. He steps closer, his body pressing against yours, you can feel his cock pressing against you too.

Joel's lips find yours, his tongue plunging deep into your mouth as he kisses you with a passion that takes your breath away again. You can feel the heat of his body against yours, and the sensation of his hard cock pressing against you sends a shiver down your spine.

"I want you, Joel," you gasp, your voice hoarse with desire as you break the kiss.

Joel smirks, "Then take me, sweetheart," he growls, his voice rough with lust.

You don't need any more encouragement. You reach down, grabbing his cock and guiding it to your entrance. Joel doesn't wait, his hips thrusting forward as he impales you on his thick, hard length. You cry out as Joel starts to thrust in and out of you, his hips moving with a rhythm that drives you wild. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to another climax, your body tensing up as you get close.

"Fuck, Joel," you gasp. "Harder, please."

Joel doesn't disappoint. His thrusts become more and more intense as he brings you closer. "Come for me, sweetheart," he growls, his voice rough with desire. "Come all over my cock, come on darlin I gotcha."

You can't help but obey, your climax building up inside you as Joel's thrusts become more and more intense. "Joel, m'gonna come again." You get out as your body convulses with pleasure as you shatter into a thousand pieces once again. Joel follows you over the edge, his cock twitching inside you as he comes with a low growl. When it's over, Joel pulls back, his cock slipping out of you with a wet sound. He looks down at you, his eyes softening as he takes in your dreamy state and disheveled hair.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice gentle.

You can't help but smile up at him, your heart still racing with pleasure. "I'm more than okay," you admit, your voice soft and dreamy.

Joel chuckles, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. "I'm glad," he murmurs. "Because I have to admit, I've been wanting to do that for a long time."

You can feel your heart racing as you look up at him, your body trembling with a mixture of embarrassment and desire. "You have?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel nods, "I've always had a thing for you, sweetheart. But I never wanted to ruin your relationship with your dad or my friendship with your dad."

You can understand where he's coming from, but you can't deny the way you feel. You've always had a crush on Joel, and now that you've experienced the passion that burns between you, there's no going back.

"I want this, Joel," you say, your voice firm and determined. "I want you."

Joel's expression softens, and he reaches out to stroke your cheek, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "Are you sure, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice gentle. "I don't want you to do anything you're not ready for."

You nod, your heart racing with excitement and desire. "I'm sure, Joel," you say, your voice firm and determined. "I want you." You stroke his patchy beard, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you.

Joel's eyes light up, and he presses a gentle kiss to your lips. "I want to spend the rest of the week exploring every inch of your beautiful body."

And he does, taking you to heights of pleasure you never thought possible. By the time your dad and his wife come back from their trip, you and Joel have become inseparable, and you find yourself at his place more than not.

After a week of passion and exploration, you and Joel have grown even closer. You find yourself falling for him hard. You never thought you could feel this way about your dad's best friend, but here you are, head over heels for the man.

But you know that this is a secret that can never come out. You and Joel have talked about it at length, and you both know that the consequences would be disastrous. You're both aware of the potential fallout, and you're both committed to keeping your relationship a secret.

It's not easy to keep your relationship a secret from the world. But every time you're together, every time Joel touches you, every time he whispers sweet nothings in your ear, you know that it's all worth it.

You know that this was never meant to be, forged in the most unlikely of circumstances. But you also know that this is real and true and strong. And you're willing to do whatever it takes to protect it.

So you continue to see each other in secret, stealing moments of passion whenever you can. It's not perfect, but it's something. And for now, that's enough.

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader

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my-castles-crumbling · 5 months

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Whoops. - AU Jegulus oneshot

(This isn't the smut, guys! That's next on my list!)

Regulus is a TA for Professor Monty Potter and Monty keeps trying to set Regulus up with his son. Regulus always refuses, of course. But what happens when, at the end of the term, he goes to the Potter Christmas Party? Just a fun oneshot based off this post! Thanks to @sebbianas for the idea and @heartshiii for the request!

“I think he’s shown up to class a grand total of three times,” Monty murmurs, jerking his chin towards the last of the students exiting the auditorium.

Regulus chuckles and continues picking up the exam papers from the desks. “Still want to go with your ‘progressive-no-attendance-policy’ next semester?" he asks lightly as he brings the pile towards the Professor.

“Eh. If he aces the final, he obviously didn’t need my help, did he?” Monty shrugs, flashing Regulus a grin.

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Then maybe he’ll show up a bit more often when he has to retake the class,” Monty finishes, laughing in earnest, now.

Regulus chuckles again and surveys the empty room. “Need anything else before I go?”

“No, Regulus. You’ve been an excellent help. Best TA I’ve ever had, but don’t go telling anyone I have favorites,” Monty says, smirking a bit.

“Thanks, Professor Potter–” Regulus begins, only to be cut off.

“Monty.”

“Monty,” he agrees, still feeling a bit nervous using first names even after all these weeks. He’s been trained in etiquette since birth, after all.

“And since you’re now officially not my TA,” Monty says, smiling, “You’ll come to my house tonight for my holiday party? My son will be there,” he waggles his eyebrows comically at this, and Regulus rolls his eyes.

It’s been an ongoing topic ever since he and Regulus had talked about it earlier that term:

“That’s a nice bracelet,” Monty said absentmindedly as they corrected papers together.

“Ah. Thanks. My brother gave it to me,” Regulus said of the black and rainbow bracelet on his wrist.

But Monty was looking closer at the bracelet, now. “Can I ask-?”

“He gave it to me when I came out,” Regulus supplied, looking at the Professor hesitantly.

Monty seemed unsurprised at the admission, but he also seemed like he wanted to ask something. “Can I ask something that might be seen as unprofessional?”

Regulus felt a bit nervous at this. It had been years since he’d left his extremely unaccepting parents, gone to live with Sirius in a tiny little flat by themselves. They didn’t live together anymore, but those years had been difficult, and it'd taken a lot of work to accept himself. He still had a fear of people, specifically adults, being cruel about his sexuality. But he was also curious. “Yes?”

“My son…my son recently told my wife and I that he’s pansexual. Could you possibly be kind enough to give me some advice? About how to show him that I still feel the same about him?” Monty’s face was so genuine that Regulus almost burst into tears.

But instead, he began to talk. To tell about all the things he wished his parents had done.

Of course, ever since that day, Monty had been casually bringing up his son, and how he and Regulus might get along. But Regulus had always refused, trying to respect the boundaries of the TA-professor relationship. Also, he'd never admit it, but he likes Monty, and worries a bit about losing him as a mentor if things went wrong on a potential date.

But he can't exactly refuse to go to the party tonight. Not after everything Monty has done for him.

“I’ll be there,” he says with a small smile, and bids Monty goodbye.

He feels a bit nervous knocking on the door of the Potters that evening, but also reminds himself that he knows how to deal with a party. He knows how to small-talk and kiss up to people and make a good first impression.

He hates it all, of course. Hates everything that reminds him of the way he was raised. But he can do this.

So, when Mrs. Potter answers the door and pulls him into a hug, he’s quite surprised- he’s never been hugged at any fancy dinner party his family has ever thrown. But he still thanks her kindly for the invitation and hands her the bottle of wine he brought.

“Oh, you’re so sweet!” Mrs. Potter gushes, leading him inside.

It’s- crowded. There are a lot of people, all dressed nicely and drinking from fancy glasses. Some look to be closer to his age, while others are older. And in the middle of one of the rooms is-

“Sirius?” Regulus asks incredulously.

“Reggie!” Sirius cries, bounding forward, dragging a boy with him. “What’re you doing here?”

“Monty invited me…” Regulus murmurs, looking around for the man in question.

“Oh, Monty is around somewhere!” Mrs. Potter assures him, waving her hand carelessly. “Sirius, dear, you know Regulus?”

“Only for my whole life,” Sirius says with a wink. “Reggie’s my brother!”

Mrs. Potter gasps loudly. “This is your brother? Well, Regulus was Monty’s TA this semester!”

“He never tells me anything, ever since he moved on campus,” Sirius complains, leaning against the boy he brought along with a dramatic sigh. Then, he turns to Regulus. “The Potters are James’s parents.”

James. Regulus has heard of him. He and Sirius became friends at the start of University. Sirius has said a lot about him on their weekly phone calls, but they’ve never met.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it, then!” Mrs. Potter says, leaving Regulus with Sirius and his friend to answer the door again.

“Thanks, Mrs. Potter,” Regulus murmurs, only to be told, “Effie!” by both Sirius and Mrs. Potter.

“Can’t believe you’re here, Reg! Let’s get you something to drink, eh?” Sirius says excitedly, dragging the tall-but-quiet buy he’s still attached to with him.

“Now would be a good time to run,” Regulus murmurs to the boy.

“We share a flat. I can’t run far,” the man says with a grin as Sirius shrieks about seeing another friend.

Ah. So this is Remus. Well, this will be interesting.

Regulus was imagining a proper party. With suits and ties and a five-course seated meal and six different types of silverware and lots of networking.

Well, it was a party, alright. And people certainly had suits and ties. Or they did, about six drinks ago.

Because this party has drinks. Not just a few, but an everlasting amount. And people are enjoying them.

“Never been to a Potter Christmas Party before?” Remus asks him with a smirk as he stands in a corner and nurses his fourth- fifth?- drink, the room spinning just a tad.

“Didn’t realize I’d need a designated driver,” Regulus murmurs back, though he’s safe, as he took a cab.

“Sirius told me that last year he threw up in the bushes,” Remus admits with an evil grin.

“Charming,” Regulus laughs.

But the conversation seems to stutter to a halt.

Because he sees someone across the room. A boy.

Alright, it’s not just a boy. It’s– it’s the most beautiful human Regulus has ever seen. His dark hair is tousled and he wears the nerdiest circular glasses. His tan skin is almost caramel-colored and his grin is jaw-dropping. He’s dressed in a navy suit and tie, but Regulus can see his muscles rippling just a bit under his clothes.

And then Regulus loses his breath.

The boy is looking at him.

He stares back, unable to tear his eyes away.

And then the boy, very purposely, looks Regulus up and down. Slowly.

And then he grins. And turns away.

And Regulus feels all…fuzzy. But in the most pleasant way. “Shots? I need shots,” Regulus hears himself say in a hoarse voice.

It’s going to be a long night.

The man is everywhere. When Regulus goes with Sirius to get another shot, he’s there in the kitchen chatting with Mrs- Effie. And he looks Regulus up and down again, his expression hungry.

Regulus almost spits out his shot.

When Regulus moves to a dining room, he’s there, too. He just has to squeeze behind Regulus to get to the plate of cookies. And as he does so, his entire chest brushes against Regulus’s back.

“Excuse me,” his low voice whispers right into Regulus’s ear.

Regulus almost drops his plate.

When Regulus moves to a sitting room to continue talking with Remus, he sees the man there, too. He’s speaking with Sirius. Regulus is too far away to hear what they’re saying, but the man keeps looking at him.

And Regulus looks back.

At some point throughout the night, someone puts on Christmas music. It blares through a speaker and some of the guests are tipsily dancing. Sirius is trying to lead Effie in a waltz as they both giggle hysterically and Remus takes pictures from the side.

And the boy is there. Again.

Except now, he’s walking directly toward Regulus.

“Care to dance?” he murmurs, his gaze almost piercing through Regulus, to his very soul.

Luckily, he’s taken dance lessons before. “Alright,” he agrees a bit nervously.

The boy leads him to a quieter spot in the room, away from Sirius’s insanity, and Regulus tries not to react to how it feels to just hold his hand. He’s not in middle school, after all. He shouldn’t feel so giddy. It must be the alcohol.

They begin to do a sort-of waltz that involves mostly just turning in a circle to the soft music in the background. As they do so, the boy’s hand rests on Regulus’s waist, his thumb moving back and forth slowly, making Regulus’s toes tingle a bit.

“You haven’t been here before,” the boy murmurs softly, looking almost desperately into Regulus’s eyes. “I- I’d remember you.”

Regulus can’t resist. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, pretending to be upset.

“I- no, I-”

“I’m joking,” he says with a smirk, and he feels the boy relax a bit.

“You’re…beautiful. That’s why,” the boy says, answering his earlier question.

And beneath the obvious attraction between them, Regulus senses that this boy is being genuine. And he almost melts right there. Nobody’s ever called him beautiful before. “Thank you,” he whispers.

“How am I doing at this dancing thing? My best friend says I’m terrible at it,” the boy asks, clearly trying to ease the tension, grinning wryly.

To be honest, he’s not great. But Regulus is just enjoying the way the boy’s hand is resting at his waist, making his skin there all hot. “You’re doing fine,” he allows, laughing, trying to resist the urge to pull the boy closer, so their bodies touch.

The boy shrugs, laughing, and Regulus is again stunned by his smile. “Well, I guess we all have our weaknesses. I just wanted an excuse to talk to you, really.”

And then they stare at each other, all attempts at conversations gone. And It’s cliché and ridiculous, but it’s like they’re the only people in the room. All Regulus can feel is the boy’s hand on his waist, the other clasped in his own. All he can see is the way the boy is staring at him- almost adoringly.

And then, they’re kissing.

And if Regulus liked the feeling of the boy’s hand on his waist, it’s nothing compared to the feeling of their lips together. It’s heat and perfection and desire but also somehow warm and gentle and caring. Regulus feels the want building in the base of his spine as suddenly, the boy’s hand lets go of his own and comes to the back of his neck to pull gently at his hair.

Maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe Regulus is going crazy, but suddenly, he wants more. Fuck the fact that this is his Professor’s Christmas party.

But at least the boy seems to be on the same page, because as they separate, he grabs Regulus’s hand and drags him along yet another hallway, up some stairs, and into a bedroom.

And before he can really contemplate what they’re doing, he’s slammed up against the wall of the bedroom, the door closes, and the boy’s lips are all over him.

“Is this alright?” the boy murmurs gently, grabbing hesitantly at the hem of Regulus’s shirt, and he only has to nod once before his shirt is ripped off his body, followed quickly by the boy’s own jacket, tie, and shirt.

And God, his hands. They’re everywhere. Cool against Regulus’s hot skin, tracing against his pale chest as lips and teeth move along his neck, and he lets out a moan that is quite embarrassing, but it only seems to spur the boy on more.

He feels like he’s floating, the way the boy worships him, kissing seemingly everywhere at once- his neck and jaw and lips and shoulder.

And then two things happen simultaneously.

The boy’s hands start to move. It’s as if they’ve read Regulus’s mind, because all he can think is Fuck, lower, lower, yes, damnit, touch me lower.

But just as the hands are finally drifting over his waistband, the door opens.

“Jamie, you’re supposed to be sociali- oh!”

And to Regulus’s absolute horror, it’s Monty. Walking in the bedroom. To him and a half-naked boy.

He wants to run. Or hide. Or throw up.

But it all gets decidedly more confusing when Monty, who previously just looked dumbfounded, bursts out laughing.

He and the boy look at each other and back again, and Regulus is a bit relieved to see he looks confused, too.

“What-?”

But Monty finally catches his breath and says, “Well…I’m glad you two have, erm, met! James, this is Regulus, the TA I told you about! And Regulus, this is my son, James!”

Well. Whoops.

“Remember last year?” James murmurs into Regulus’s ear as they set out what feels like hundreds of bottles of wine for the annual Potter Christmas Party.

“Vividly,” Regulus says, but he hides a smile.

“Suppose we should do that again this year, but finish what we start- ow!” James shrieks, trying to turn away from Regulus’s light punch.

Regulus just rolls his eyes at his boyfriend. “Shut up, Potter.”

Leave comments and kudos here <3

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batmanisagatewaydrug · 11 days

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Hi. I’m sending this anonymously but if tumblr glitches and it isn’t anonymous please don’t post this because I’m absolutely completely entirely mortified.

I’m 20 FtM. About a year and a half ago, when I moved out and started at college, I discovered fandom, and began to get really into reading fics on AO3. My parents had heavily restricted my internet access growing up, and as new adult I began to discovered the barrage of content online.

Soon enough, I was spending about an hour or two every night reading smut fics. I never thought anything of it, because, well, it’s just words, it’s not *actually* porn, right?

Recently I did start watching some explicit videos but tried to limit myself to only once or twice a month because the shame I felt as well as the strange dissatisfaction just wasn’t worth it.

After doing some research, I found a study that said that watching porn for more than an hour a week was unhealthy. I thought, yeah, okay, fair enough.

Then I realised: does my fanfiction reading count as pornography?

I kept thinking to myself that because it was text it didn’t count, but —does it? Is that the reason that lately I’ve been feeling strangely dissatisfied and empty after reading/watching? Will I feel like this when I eventually have sex?? (still a virgin, mainly for dysphoria reasons)

I found all this stuff online that says porn addictions can screw you over for life, that you can’t find sexual satisfaction with a partner.

Should I cut back?

I don’t normally masturbate while consuming porn. I feel too ashamed. I normally just sit there and read/watch.

Am I a porn addict?????? Should I quit reading smut? Help.

If you can’t tell, I wasn’t raised in a very sex positive environment and I feel very ashamed. I don’t really know who to talk to and I just feel very guilty so I’m resorting to an anonymous ask on Tumblr.

If you read this, thank you for taking the time. I appreciate it.

— Jason

hi Jason,

I don't think you're a porn addict. I think you're probably just an anxious 20 year old from a pretty restrictive background and now that you have a little more freedom you're kind of nervous about it, which is very normal.

I want to be super clear: written porn is porn. porn is any sexually explicit material designed to titillate; it's existed since WAY before the moving picture existed and it will exist long after the internet has crumbled to dust. people like porn! and it's okay to like porn. the text-based stuff is particularly high on the list of porn that's pretty unambiguously fine, morally-speaking, because you never have to worry that the performer you're watching has had their video stolen by pornhub or that, god forbid, anyone onscreen isn't a willing participant, but I want to be super clear that liking sexually explicit photos or videos of real people is also 100% fine.

obviously I have no idea what study you read, but I'd be cautious about any study being boiled down to such black and white, attention-grabbing headlines. you can interpret a study to mean virtually anything if you want to, and there are a lot of interest groups with a vested interest in demonizing porn. if reading smutty fan fic makes you happy and isn't interfering with the rest of your life, you should do that.

unfortunately it sounds like it's not making you happy lately, dissatisfied and empty feelings. in the kindest way possible, I don't think much of that is being caused by the porn itself. it sounds like it's coming from your gnawing worry that you're a porn addict. maybe it's best to take a little step away from porn and smutty fic for a while, if only until you feel able to engage with it without feeling bad.

also, speaking of porn addiction: that's a very dubious condition, and one that's not scientifically or medically recognized. to be certain, people can develop a reliance on porn that disrupts their daily function and can wreak havoc on their lives, but that's true of anything that causes your brain to spit out happy chemicals. anything that become a maladaptive coping mechanism, including and especially things that are fine and even necessary in small doses. sleeping, exercising, and going shopping are all things that can be life-ruining if done to harmful excess, but that doesn't mean you're doing anything wrong if you like to sleep in, go for runs, or browse your favorite online stores every once in a while.

if reading smut isn't causing you to skip out on your more important obligations, fail to take care of yourself, or bringing on bankruptcy, I think you're probably alright. the biggest danger I see here is you beating yourself over the head with your own anxiety about this, which may be a sign that it's a good idea to take a step back for entirely different reasons than you were worried about.

#sex edventures 2024

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jotarobutcat · 7 months

Text

I'll just be honest and say that I hate it when people use neurodivergency as an excuse to be immature. And by that I don't mean things like liking shows with a younger target audience or getting overwhelmed by tasks. These have nothing to do with being emotionally mature.

I mean refusing to cooperate or make compromises, throwing tantrums in public and overall disregarding other people's needs in order to make yourself comfortable.

The world doesn't revolve around you. We live in communities, and in order for the community to prosper, you need to take into account other people's needs and comfort as well, not just yours. If you have special needs, you're obviously allowed to ask that these needs are met as well as possible, but neurodivergency isn't a "do whatever you want without consequences" card.

You're allowed to have emotions, you're allowed to feel overwhelmed and you're allowed to have your own wants and needs, but you need to learn to communicate these in a mature way and to take other people into consideration as well. It's a part of growing up and maturing.

And before you come at me with the "we shouldn't have to abide by neurotypicals' rules", many of these rules also benefit many neurodivergent people. For example, I am extremely oversensitive to noise and have trauma from overbearing parents, if an adult man suddenly started screaming while I was bying new clothes I would likely have a panic attack. When somebody chews with their mouth open I feel like someone is trying to put a living spider in my ear. When someone throws a tantrum I have a hard time keeping myself calm because the noise is so overwhelming that it fills me with violent anger. It's not just neurotypical people who the "don't be an obnoxious little shit" rule benefits.

/nbh

EDIT: Since this is getting way more attention than I thought it would, and some misunderstandings have arisen, I'll just add here what I explained in the comments as well. Before anything, this edit is merely to prevent further misunderstandings, not to put anyone on a pedestal of shame for misunderstanding what I meant. The original post leaves many things vague, and it is understandable that it might come off the wrong way.

This post is about using neurodivergency as an excuse for bad behaviour, not as an explanation for problems that actually come with neurodivergency. It is specifically aimed at people with autism and/or ADHD who use their neurodivergency as an excuse for behaviour that is usually *not even caused by their neurodivergency*, but rather bad parenting or other external factors.

The word "tantrum" is NOT used to describe meltdowns here. Tantrums and meltdowns are very different in nature, the former being usually caused by an inability to accept not getting exactly what one wants, and the latter being caused by emotional or physical overwhelm. During tantrums a person is in control of their emotions, but chooses to release them as an angry outburst towards other people. During meltdowns a person is NOT in control of their emotions, and cannot choose how they present their overwhelm. If you need an example of what I mean by tantrums, you can look at your nearest neighbourhood "Karen" for that, and you will probably see that the kind of behaviour I mean is very different from an autistic meltdown.

#if you're mad at this you're part of the problem #stop excusing bad behaviour #do what you want in private #but have some courtesy in public #here come the generic tags #text post #autism #actually autistic #adhd #actually adhd #audhd #neurodivergent #neurodiversity

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s1ater · 2 years

Text

promise me nothing.

pairings. steve harrington x fem!reader

about. steve and you cross paths, only for him to find out some bad news about you.

warnings. foul language, s4 spoilers sorta

ricky rocks. anotha one 😼🙌 also part two or nah?

“long time, no see, harrington,” you nod as you pass him before looking up and unintentionally connecting eyes with five other people at once. “and children…”

you nod again in acknowledgement, getting a good look at them all before making a move to walk away from the car they were all huddled around, but steve grabs your arm, “hey, what’s going on?”

“i don’t know what you mean.”

he rolls his eyes, still holding your bicep firmly. he tips his head toward the swarm of law enforcement in the front of a house before raising a brow, “you’re telling me this is nothing?”

“just about.”

“y/n.”

“what?”

“i think we need to talk.”

you and steve go back; way back since pre-school days, and although neither of you were ever truly close, there was a mutual understanding that you both had each other’s backs.

you both came from similar backgrounds; life set up since day one, given nice cars, lived in nice houses, and grew up in the hawkins country club aspect for loser adults trying to relive high school popularity by flaunting money.

and you were only tied more together by the strange and abnormal encounters and fights for life against the sci-fi creatures that had no faces and were covered from head to toe in slime—that eventually turned into something way bigger than the mind could fathom.

ever since the mall fire during the summer after senior year, you hadn’t seen steve or any of his nerd posse—till now.

you almost thought you were seeing things, but then again, you should have guessed that when anything remotely strange or out of the normal happened in hawkins, they’d always turn up, immediately on the case.

just never this fast.

“i think i’m dying.”

“what?”

you stood in front of steve, nancy, robin, and three of his freshman friends. their presence made you suddenly anxious and you couldn’t help but begin to talk out of your ass as you slightly paced back and forth in your parents living room.

how steve coaxed you into talking to them—you weren’t sure—but it didn’t take long and it seemed you were almost more than willing to allow them into your home by the way you so easily opened your front door and offered snacks and refreshments.

yep, you were definitely dying.

they watched you with sudden concerned and confused looks, not knowing what to say and not expecting you to throw them this type of curve ball.

“brandon,” you mumbled, your hands shaking out in front of you. “jesus, i can’t even think straight…” you place your hand on your forehead, thinking over whether or not you should ever be speaking right then. “he’s dead.”

“who’s brandon?” dustin glances around to everyone but you, afraid to make eye contact almost.

“her boyfriend,” steve whispers, speaking as if you can’t hear them. and you almost couldn’t.

“i can’t even-i don’t even know-“

“hey, hey,” steve stops you in your tracks of speaking, sitting up from the chair he previously sat in. “you don’t have to say anything right now, just breathe. sit down.”

steve liked you, a lot. like, since day one, even as kids, he couldn’t get you out of his mind.

there was just something about you. you had a good head on your shoulders, you knew what you wanted, you didn’t let anything or anyone knock you off your feet, and you didn’t need anyone to save you. he hated that fact—the fact that you didn’t need him and he hated that sometimes it seemed you weren’t anything more than acquaintance.

“sit down,” he pulled you by the arm till you were close enough for him to place a hand on your waist, carefully guiding you to the chair he was previously in, giving you a soft look. “just breathe for a moment, alright?”

everyone glanced to each other at the gesture, almost not believing it. they looked to steve now where he stood in your place, his hand stroking his chin in thought, “i think it’s time we call in your pal eddie.”

it seemed you were in and out of sensibility as you thought over the past 24 hours, not believing it was real. you felt crazy, not being able to keep a stable thought in your head for more than a minute before turning into an emotional mess.

steve knew you weren’t in your right mind, especially after you let eddie into your home without a second thought. he didn’t think you even processed that moment or even realized what you were doing until—

“who are you?”

something you asked twenty minutes after he had been in your home.

“i’m eddie.”

“i think i know you.”

“well i hope so since we’ve been in school together since middle school before you graduated.”

“right,” you narrowed your brows, but didn’t say anything else, not knowing what to even make of him.

you knew eddie, but he was never someone you had ever talked to or had any interactions with. you didn’t care for him; you found him obnoxious and practically repulsing when you were still in school together—but right now, by the way he was looking at you—you didn’t mind him at all.

his expression was soft and full of sympathy, like he understood what was going through your mind and why you seemed so…bipolar in emotions.

“y/n, eddie’s here to talk.”

“why?”

“because what happened to you, is exactly what happened to him.”

you still had narrowed brows as you stared at him, not knowing what to say. there was a small proportion of recognition that struck you when you stared at eddie, not nearly enough for you to trust him, nor enough for you to spill your guts out to him about how your boyfriend was practically castrated right in front of your eyes.

“you’re afraid?”

you slowly nodded your head, eyes wide, not understanding the willingness that has suddenly taken over you, “yes.”

he nods and you feel the need to continue to explain yourself.

“i can’t get that image out of my head. god, i don’t even know if it was…”

“real?”

“yeah.”

he nods again.

“you said you think you’re dying, why?” he sat right across from you on your carpeted floor, now eyeing you carefully with the same cautiousness you had in your own pupils.

“because… the things that were happening to brandon before he was fucking possessed… are happening to me.”

“what do you mean,” he starred at you strangely now, his head slightly tipping, watching you carefully just as the rest of them did.

“the bloodied noses, the nightmares, the headaches, that noise…” you cringed as you spoke, almost shying away from saying more.

“what noise?” robin was leaned forward on her knees, her eyes wide with curiosity.

“a clock.”

it seemed right as you said it, the sound echoed through the room and the lights begun to flicker till there was no light at all and the only breathing body was you.

“you’re fucking kidding me,” your head lifted toward the hallway that opened up to your living room; exactly where the noise was coming from.

this had only happened once before; the first day you had come back from college while you were throwing up in your childhood bathroom. you couldn’t figure it out, you had never been sick before—not like that, but then suddenly your world turned dark and the sound of that damned clock was one of the only things you could hear.

you got to your feet slowly, continuing to stare into the dark as the sound echoed throughout your now empty home. the sound was jarring and something about it made you want to follow it like the last time. you were losing your mind, you had to get out of there.

you turned, only for your body to match right up against an unintelligible one. one much larger than your own.

your eyes went wide immediately, feeling a scream rip through your throat as fear set in fast and your head tipped to see such a haunting face you had never seen before.

“hello, y/n,” it looked like it smiled, examining your frightened state, taking pleasure in it, as you stared back in a paralyzed state. “your time is running thin,” it took a step forward, closer and closer. “you will soon be mine.”

you back peddle, fast, not thinking, not processing, but soon landing on your ass and back into the light where you sat in the same place before but with a pair of hands on your face, with voices yelling and screaming you back to conscious.

you were in shock, your limbs were numb and you could barely keep yourself up in a sitting position. you were breathing hard like you had been holding your breath for the past minute, practically dry heaving, feeling your stomach fold up into itself in terror.

“what happened?” steve’s face was the only thing your could see as his hands clasped your face hard, his nose practically touching yours as he stared at you wide-eyed, dipped in fear.

you stared back, feeling every nerve slowly come back to life within your body—drawing out into a painful process. your body begun to shake, tears flooding into the corners of your eyes as you couldn’t even begin to process the switch between realities.

“steve, get out of her face, she’s going to throw up!” robin was yanking at his shoulder despite his constant persistence, clinging to your body.

“are you okay?”

everyone stood around you, wide eyes, wide with fear, wide with concern.

“are you okay?”

“what happened?”

“i was here, and then i wasn’t, but it’s like nothing changed other than you all being gone,” you stood now, guiding them all through the process of your episode, now that you could finally process what had just happened. “it was that sound, that fucking clock sound, and i turned and it was something, like something you’d see out of a fucking movie, like the weird alien-monster things we’ve seen before. i don’t know—”

“vecna.”

“what?”

“she saw vecna,” dustin looks between everyone who all have seemed to agree with this consolation.

“will someone please translate what he just said?”

“vecna,” steve repeated, glancing up to you from the sudden heavy gloom laid upon him. “he’s the reason everyone’s been dying lately, you see him, you’re in an automatic death sentence… but you already knew that…”

you starred at him in disbelief, your eyes switching between each teen that sat on your couch, as if asking whether that was true or not, but they all avoided eye contact--which spoke louder than words.

“you’re fucking with me,” you scoffed, turning on your heal and beginning to pace. “of fucking course.”

“you don’t seemed so… terrified about this anymore,” max is quick to elbow lucas in the ribs who winces.

you ignore it, suddenly annoyed at the swift depressive mood change, “how do we kill this motherfucker?”

“you’re not giving up on me, are you steve?”

“of course not.”

the two of you stood on your back porch after steve had lightly pulled you by the elbow, recommending catching some fresh air.

you don’t believe his words. he seemed tired with almost the look of sadness in his eyes. this observation causes you to frown as you tip your head, slightly coming closer to steve to look at him better, “then why does it look like you’re the one dying and not me?”

he scoffs, “y/n.” he gets taller, straightening his posture from where he was previously leaned on your railing. he turns even more serious and it makes you frown. “why didn’t you tell me?”

“what difference would it have made?”

“we could have caught it earlier.”

“and be in the same position as we are in now?”

he doesn’t say anything, but still stares at you with a look that makes your chest tighten and your skin begin to flare up in heat.

and then, “i’m sorry about brandon.”

he wasn’t. he never liked him.

“i’m sorry you had to go through that,” he takes a step closer to you, his hand now clasping your arm. “we’re going to figure this out, i promise.”

“don’t promise me anything, stevie,” your hand softly caressed his cheek, giving him a thinned lip smile before walking inside, leaving him to himself outside.

navigation.

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greenerteacups · 2 months

Note

If there was one major plot element that you could change in the original canon what would it be?

The Marauders' deaths. With the exception of James, I don't think any of the Marauders die in a way that's narratively suitable — or, to be more particular, they die in a way suitable for a narrative I don't like very much. James is an acceptable (though, obviously, tragic) death to me because it completes his arc: he's an obnoxious, arrogant bully who grows into a selfless soldier on the side of the light, and lays down his life as a final gesture of abnegation. It's not Proust, but it's good, right? His death represents a symbolic triumph over Voldemort because it's something Voldemort would never do.

None of the others make the same kind of sense for their subplots. Sirius dies at the Ministry because Harry fucks up and lets his abandonment issues override his judgment, and while that's a compelling moment for Harry — whose hamartia is a trauma-forged combination of hot-headedness and desperate fear of losing people — it's not for Sirius. Sirius's problem in Book 5 is that he's emotionally stunted by his years of imprisonment and refuses to grow up, because he's clinging to the life he thinks — rightly — he should have gotten to have. This is made painfully clear in the Department of Mysteries, wherein some of his last words to Harry are "Nice one, James!" He refuses to treat Harry like the child he is, and he keeps acting like he's this fun-uncle type, blowing off rules and pissing off Mom (Molly), because that's the dynamic he should have had with Harry if Lily and James had lived. Sirius doesn't want to be Harry's guardian and role model. He wants a brother and a nephew, and he's trying to force Harry to be both, because he's all he has left of that family. His death doesn't tie any of those threads; they're left dangling. That's a valid narrative move — every death cuts a story short, and you can't give everybody an arc — but I loved Sirius. Giving Harry the "grieving loss of a parent" arc that was originally meant for Ron (Arthur was the original Big Death of the OOTP, in JKR's drafts) also means that Ron spends a lot of Book 6 without anything to do, whereas Harry goes through what's essentially a more intense version of the grieving-and-recovery arc he did after Cedric's death.

Remus, on the other hand, is just — first off, a Mess, I agree with so few of the choices made with Remus in the later books, but let's say he's deep in the trauma, the grieving, and whatever living among werewolves as a spy does for your mental health. So he gets into this will-they-won't-they with Tonks, gets married, tries to abandon pregnant wife, then goes back and gets to be with his wife and son for about half a year before dying, with said wife, in battle. Okay. So like:

I think the Remus Weirdness in Book 7 is actually an attempt to close a plot hole, which is that the Horcrux Hunt happens completely without adult supervision, despite the fact that there are lots of adults the Golden Trio could and should ask for help. Harry's insistence that he doesn't want to risk anyone's life except for Ron and Hermione's is, while understandable as a character move, utterly ridiculous, because the other Order members are risking their lives anyway. One of the biggest holes is Remus and Tonks, who are (a) both already targets for Voldemort because of who they are, and so have nothing to lose, but also (b) both care for Harry on a personal level, and would never accept his reasons for pushing them away. So Teddy Lupin is conceived in order to bench Tonks, who's safely out of commission while pregnant. But that leaves Remus, who probably in fact would have super complicated torn-loyalty feelings about the situation, and who is scarred and traumatized and probably has enough abandonment issues to try and walk out, but — in my view — never resolves any of those things. He doesn't suddenly realize that he loves Tonks and wants to be with her, or feel a sense of duty to his son; when Harry's justly furious at Remus abandoning his kid in Harry's name, Remus gets pissy about it and goes "well, if you don't want my help, fine," and leaves. Which is, again, fine, a character flaw, it's childish, he's allowed to be, and he is, in fact, similar to Sirius and James — but it left a bad taste in my mouth, because that's one of the last conversations we get with Remus, and it's such an impoverished vision of his bonds with others. It doesn't delve deeply into why he loves Tonks or Harry, or the substance of his conflict between them; like always with the Marauders, he just invokes James, and Harry throws James's name right back at him, and it ends there.

And then he dies, so that baby Teddy Lupin can be an orphan, and we can do a parallel to baby Harry Potter. Even though we don't see Teddy Lupin on the page ever, so we have no idea what that comparison means, or how their experiences compliment or contrast one another, or literally anything more substantive than the series beginning and ending on the same event. Which: great. Okay. To quote a Roger Ebert review that I think about, on average, once every thirty-six hours:

"J.K. Rowling has learned from better novels that authors sometimes create narrative parallels, but she has not learned why."

#greenteacup asks #sirius black #remus lupin

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joekeeray · 2 years

Text

A Simple Solution

pairing: Single Dad!Steve Harrington/Female Reader

summary: Robin proposes a solution to fixing Steve’s attitude due to the high stress of being a single father of an infant, and you decide to give it a shot when your solution fails.

warnings/extra tags: explicit smut, MINORS DNI, masturbation with help™, oral sex (male receiving), grinding, unprotected sex, thigh fucking, single daddy steve, snarky and stressed steve, steve in gray sweatpants, steve has a bit of a praise kink for a second, he also has a big dick no complaints here, he comes twice cause why not, beta read, edited by me

note: I've been writing a single dad steve series, and I needed to write this. tagging @gothbitchshit for no reason other than to say hi. Thank you for reading and please enjoy~

✦✦✦

Steve's son was only about 3 months old when you moved in. It was a mutual agreement between you two, from high school acquaintances to co-workers at Scoops Ahoy one summer turned friends now turned roommates years later, and Steve had made it clear to you that his son would never have to be your responsibility.

What he meant was that he'd never expect you to babysit him, make you buy him things like formula or diapers, or to even wake up and take care of him when he cries late into the night (as a housewarming gift he gifted you a walk-man for when that happens). And while you didn't actually mind having an infant in the house or helping Steve from time to time, you did respect these boundaries of his.

Steve wanted to do this on his own, and you understood that. After all, he did let you move in after you were evicted by your parents because an adult shouldn't be living with their parents still (their words) and he had an extra room. Also, he didn't exactly hate the idea of splitting monthly and weekly expenses with someone.

It wasn't like Steve didn't let you near his son or anything, in fact, he encouraged it, wanting his son used to people. You absolutely loved holding him and talking to him, you enjoyed reading to him too, especially when Steve would just fall asleep with him in his arms and you'd pick him up and take him to bed to let Steve sleep while you read him a story or told him about your day.

"How was your day? Ah, you're just a little baby," you would say as you changed him, "Your day was a random elderly woman cooing and saying hi to you, huh?"

And he'd just stare up at you with those big brown eyes that matched Steve's, and you'd sit down on the rocking chair with him in your lap while Steve got much needed rest on the couch in the living room.

That was pretty much it, but now that his son was around 6 months old...you did wish that Steve would let you help. More than just that, more than just watching him for about an hour because he needed to run out really quick, or handing him some bottles when he needed one. It was because, well, you could tell he was exhausted and could use a little more than the help you've been giving him.

Except, he stood by not needing your help, or anyone's help for that matter except for a paid babysitter whenever he was at work (which you found silly because you would watch him for free on the days Steve worked and you didn't).

All in all, you just wanted to help, but Steve was stubborn. Stubborn and tired...and he'd gotten a little snappy lately too.

It was a day off for you, and you were up early because his son typically woke you up around 5 am. He hadn't been doing it lately, but your mind clung to that sleep schedule.

You were standing in the semi-clean kitchen, well just unorganized really, and was making more bottles while flipping through a magazine after you decided to clean the dishes and other bottles left beside the sink from the night before.

You were shaking one and flipping the page of the magazine when you heard a door creak open from down the hall and looked up to see Steve entering the kitchen a few seconds later.

His eyes were squinted, his hair slightly greasy and sticking up in various directions, and he was only wearing a pair of gym shorts so his hair covered chest was on full display, not something you weren't used to. He stood for a good moment or two just staring at you, then at the bottles you had made.

"You...you don't have to do that," he said after rubbing his eyes, "I told you that you don't have to do...anything."

You set down the bottle you were shaking, which was actually the last one as you said, "I was awake, and had nothing else to do...so..."

He looked at all the bottles, a frown on his lips before he brought his hands to his face and sighed. You crossed your arms and leaned on the counter.

"Look okay, I told you when you moved in-"

"I know," you cut him off, "It's really not a big deal, Steve..."

"It's just- I told you I wanted to do this on my own-"

"And you have been," you told him sternly as you checked one of the bottles, knowing that Steve was up to go and feed his baby. You held it out for him, "I just wanted to help."

He stared at you, then at the bottle, and he took it from you while saying, "I literally never asked you for it, but whatever."

Before he turned away, he gave you one last look before walking back down the hall. You huffed, turning back to the bottles and thought he was being a bit much. You only made a few bottles, something you actually always did he just always thought he made more than normal.

"God, did I make this much? I'm so tired I don't even remember," Steve told you one Thursday night when he was going to give his son a bottle.

You decided then and there that you weren't going to hang out with him today like planned, and after putting them in the fridge (which was something you knew Steve would get snarky with about too but did it anyway) you went back to your room, but not before stopping in the doorway of his son's room and seeing Steve sitting on the rocking chair holding his newborn in his arms and smiling down at him as he fed him.

He still looked so tired though, but you continued to your room, lightly closing the door and grabbing the walk man so Tears for Fears could put you back to sleep for a bit.

✦✦✦

"God someone needs to get laid," Robin Buckley's voice echoed from beside you. You nearly choked on the pretzel you were currently eating while walking around at the mall that was a town over from Hawkins.

It was a nice half-way point between you, Nancy Wheeler, and Robin, who was actually Steve's best friend that you stole for a second since he hadn't even talked to her lately.

"Robin," Nancy was on the other side of you, shopping bags in one hand, "Don't say that so loud." Her blue eyes looked at the families around them and Robin cringed suddenly.

"Okay, but my point still stands, I know more than the normal person about Steve's sex life...unfortunately...and when he wasn't getting any, he got snarky like that," Robin said, and honestly, you think you knew what Robin was talking about too now, remembering particularly when working at Scoops together, the guy had a whole attitude until he was back in the game.

Nancy just grimaced, "Well he is a single dad of a 6 month old, has he been out like at all?" The question was targeted toward you, and you lifted your head after biting into your pretzel and nodded.

"Yeah, he goes out...to get diapers and baby stuff...and to work," you said fully knowing that's not what Nancy meant. She gave you a look and you scoffed, "Other than that, no not really, he spends every day off at home, and we hang a lot in the house when it's both of our days off. We were supposed to today until he said that to me."

Robin hummed, "Can't really blame the guy though, right? The little guy is born, mother vanishes, he's all alone taking care of him...till you moved in. He's just stressed, right?"

You took another bite of your pretzel, teeth digging into the fluffy bread as you turned to look at Robin, "Well, I moved in to make it easier with bills and stuff but…no I messed up...he told me he didn't need help like that, and I overstepped."

"Well...out of all of us here, you're seeing it right? You said he's tired all the time, forgets to do things like make extra bottles because he's working so much and getting very little sleep...you were just trying to help," Nancy said with a shrug, and while that was true...you still felt bad.

Robin saw your conflicted expression and wrapped a friendly arm around you, "I'm sure it's fine, just you know, talk to him, express some friendly concern and maybe tell him my solution...or better yet, maybe help him with that solution?"

You snapped your eyes up to meet Robin's, feeling your cheeks heat up and she chuckled as she poked your nose, "I'm joking...but this is probably a good time to tell you that he did have a crush on you when we all worked together at Scoops Ahoy...and after that too."

You furrowed your eyebrows, then laughed in her face, "Robin, he had a crush on you."

"Yeah, he did, but for obvious reasons, that was never going to work out for him, but he liked you too, and for much longer than he liked me, so...I don't know..." Robin trailed off, and you sighed as you turned to look at Nancy.

"I would just talk to him, not about her solution because that would just make it weird," Nancy told you quickly, before she looked around and leaned in, "But...maybe he does need what Robin thinks, it doesn't have to be you though."

Your cheeks grew more hot, but there was another sort of feeling that stirred inside of you when you thought about Steve actively going out to find someone to sleep with. You took the last bite of your pretzel then and looked forward, thinking about what Robin and Nancy had said...and as your eyes caught a donuts shop you and he once went to before his son was born, you thought maybe instead of Robin's solution you could try another.

Later that night you returned to Hawkins with a couple of shopping bags, and a box of freshly made donuts that included at least three of his favorite one. It was their bear claws, and you knew this because Steve still brought it up sometimes, claiming he’d never have a donut like that again.

Steve was in the living room, sitting on the couch in front of his son who was sitting in a high chair. There was a jar of half-full baby food sitting on the tray portion, and Steve was leaning in and wiping his son’s face. He’d been trying to introduce him to solids since at the last appointment the doctor told him it was okay, but more food had gotten onto his chin rather than his mouth on this attempt.

“That’s okay,” Steve told him with a warm smile as he wiped off the excess food on his lips, “We’ll try next time.” His son stared at him before the corner of his lips started to curl up and Steve chuckled as he leaned in and kissed his cheek affectionately, “You have a charming smile just like your daddy, huh? Yes you do. Gonna make all the boys and girls swoon with that smile." His son’s smile only grew, making Steve chuckle and kiss him again.

You had entered through the door in the kitchen, and the door lightly slamming captured Steve's attention. He looked up, seeing an unreadable expression on your features when he saw you setting down things on the now clean kitchen counter.

"Uh, hey," Steve told you, then he looked back at his son with a grimace on his face because of how you just left after what happened in the morning. His son just stared blankly at him, as if trying to figure out why his dad’s face looked like that (He should know because Steve talked about it to him while he changed his diaper earlier).

"Hi," you replied back lamely as you started to remove your coat and set it down on the back of one of the stools in the kitchen. It was awkwardly silent, save for the late cartoons playing on the small tv.

Steve swallowed thickly, feeling bad about what happened in the morning, especially with how you two had plans today and you were mad enough to leave. He moved to stand, picking his son up at the same time and holding him against his chest as he entered the kitchen with you.

"So...how is Robin and Nance?" he asked you, eyes moving toward the various shopping bags, not having yet seen the donuts box you purposely set on the counter behind you.

"They're good, you should really give Robin a call though, she won't admit it but she misses your phone calls," you told him nonchalantly, "And I think she really wants to see the little guy again."

Steve watched a smile grow on your lips at the sight of his son, and it made him feel slightly warm, but also...regretful. He took a deep breath, wanting to make the feeling go away.

"Look, I had a very eye opening conversation with the little guy about what happened this morning,” Steve lightly joked, which didn’t fail to make your warm smile toward his son turn slightly amused, “And…I'm sorry…I know you're just trying to help out.”

You crossed your arms, choosing to lean on the counter again as your eyes lifted back up to Steve's as your expression turned more serious, "It's okay, you told me not to, but...I just see you struggling you know? And I want to help, and I don't mean act like his mom or something, just...like as a friend...or an unofficial aunt."

Steve stared at you for a moment, that warm feeling only growing, but he still felt a bit indifferent about it. You could tell by the way his expression faltered.

"I know, I know...it's just, he's my son? And I need to know that I can take care of him on my own because if I let you help then what would happen if you left? What if I just mess up because I’m incapable of taking care of my own kid?" he asked you genuinely because he had been thinking about that, too afraid he'd start relying on you so much that he'd be hopeless. He had already been through similar situations, sans being a single dad, and he was determined to never let that happen again where he was thrown into a responsibility he wasn’t ready for.

"Steve...you are such a good dad, I don't think that's possible," you said with a small laugh of disbelief, "Everything you're doing for him...working all those hours, spending every hour you aren't working with him...but that doesn’t mean you have to do everything on your own especially since help is just right here."

“I know,” Steve replied, voice slightly hoarse.

You were pushing yourself off of the counter now, going toward the box of donuts now, "I'm not going to do everything, just you know, make some bottles here and then, take care of him so you can sleep longer...maybe even watch him if you want to go out with some date or something...things like that."

Steve laughed at that, not at the whole thing, but the dating part and he said, "You seriously think I'm getting dates?"

"I don't know...some women like the whole single dad thing...you haven't noticed when we go out some are looking at you with major heart eyes, Steve?" you asked, "Especially when you do that baby talk to him? Some find it hot."

Steve furrowed his brows, then laughed again, "Right…”

“It’s true,” you replied with a weak shrug, “There’s just something about the young dad vibe that is just incredibly attractive.”

Steve stared at the back of your head, swiping his tongue over his suddenly dry lips, and he said, “Are you one of these women? It sounds like you're talking from experience."

You glanced over your shoulder at Steve before you opened the box of donuts that were still hidden from Steve's view and you replied, "I'm not immune to it."

At your confession, it made Steve's cheeks grow a bit pink but then his son was reaching up to touch his nose, distracting him. Steve grinned down at him, and asked in that same voice without thinking, "Alright, alright, you have my attention again- you want a bottle?"

You turned toward Steve again, holding a bear paw in your hand that was meant for Steve and felt your chest tighten. You weren't lying when you said you weren't immune to it, the way he looked when holding his son, the way he talked to him, but you were luckier than the women who just walked by him in the street, you got to see this everyday. Him being so caring, so protective and so loving to his son. In your honest opinion, Steve just got hotter to you since living with him. He was hot before, but now you can't ignore or deny it like you did when you were classmates and coworkers at an ice cream parlor.

You softly cleared your throat, capturing Steve's attention. He lifted his eyes to look at you, before you waved the bear claw and his eyes moved toward it. You could practically see his eyes light up and his mouth beginning to water at the simple sight of it.

"Fuck, give me that right now," Steve cursed, and you chuckled and walked toward him. You held it to his lips and Steve leaned forward to take a bite out of it, and practically moaned at its sugary taste, "God, give me another bite."

You did as told, holding it back up to his lips as he took another bite, a bigger one this time with his eyes boring into yours. You bit your inner cheek, thinking this was probably working. You didn't want to think about Steve needing to have sex or something when this donut was practically doing the same thing...easing his nerves even for just a bit.

"So...are we okay then?" you asked him as he swallowed his second bite.

"Yeah...yeah we're okay," he said, shooting you a sweet grin before he opened his mouth again. You rolled your eyes playfully and said, "Then give me him and feed yourself."

Steve pouted at you, but did as told. You took his son in your arms, speaking in a high pitched voice as you said, "Hi, how was your day with your daddy? Sorry I didn't get you a donut, but I promise I’ll bring you one too when you’re a little older." You smoothed down the dark hair on his head, and his son gazed up at you and reached out to touch your cheek and smile.

Steve stopped midway from bringing the rest of the donut to his mouth, eyes resting on you and feeling some kind of heat rather than a regular warmth at the sight of you holding his son and with the smile and look of joy you were putting on his little face.

What you didn’t know, and Steve never going to tell you, was that there was another reason he didn't want you helping out so much, and the heat he was feeling right now just watching with his son, how it always had been since you moved in, was it. He rather focused on his donut, tearing his eyes from you as you grabbed a bottle, made by you of course, and sauntered off toward his son’s bedroom.

✦✦✦

Things were going okay between you and Steve, and he had seemed less stressed with him letting you help him out some more. It was more than you were doing before, but not too much either. He wasn't snapping at you again...until today.

You had gotten off of your shift early, a rare occasion to happen, and you had gone straight home and you told the sitter she could go home.

You didn't think Steve would be bothered by it since he started to accept more of your help, but something must've happened during his day at work because when got home and only found you and his son, and no babysitter, he grew slightly irritated.

"I just think you should ask me first," Steve told you as he picked his son out of the cradle swing that was set out in the living room. You looked at Steve with a raised brow.

"Okay? Do you not trust me or something to watch him? I don't see the problem," you bit back, growing irritated with him now. Steve sighed, kissing his son on nose as a hello and glancing at you. You were in the kitchen again, and he followed after you.

"No, I trust you, I just think if you're going to send the sitter home you should let me know," he said with a bit of a firm tone in his voice that you didn't like.

You honestly didn't think it was that big of a deal because you were here and it made no sense for her to stick around until he got home. He was leaving him here with you on your days off in the past weeks since your talk and suddenly this was a problem.

"I would apologize, but I don't see why I have to," you muttered, knowing Steve was in one of his moods again.

"It's because-" Steve paused, as if trying to think about exactly why, but when he didn't come up with anything you were laughing and shaking your head as you opened the fridge and bent over to look for one of the containers you'd brought home from work.

"You don't even know why," you said, then sighed and said, "But fine, next time I'll just call you and bother you at work." You heard Steve scoff just as you found what you were looking for.

"It's not about that-" Steve said but you were turning around and holding a piece of lemon cake you made at the bakery you worked full-time at in your hand and telling to be quiet and just eat the cake.

Steve just stared at you, then the lemon cake dumbfounded, and he said, "I don't want that...whatever, just-" He was shaking his head and turning away, leaving you standing there. The last thing you heard was Steve asking his son, "Why does she keep trying to feed me sweets?"

You stood in the kitchen for a good few minutes after he'd left, looking at the lemon cake in your hand before shoving it into your own mouth and chewing it obnoxiously. It was the first time Steve refused to eat a sweet you were offering him, not knowing that you were always doing it whenever he got into a mood and was unintentionally averting his irritation toward you.

You went to your room a few minutes after that, and decided to call Robin and when she answered, she told you exactly what she told you at the mall. He desperately needed to get laid, and he didn't even know it.

"Oh god, if I do tell him that he's probably going to call me gross," you said, now weighing in her suggestion because honestly, you didn't know what else would ease the guy's stress and tension.

"Yeah, but then he'll think about it and realize you're probably right, I can tell him? Just put him on the phone right now," Robin said, making you chuckle.

"I think he's asleep…somehow," you said, glancing through your open door to see the hallway illuminated with the tv screen, "The little guy's quiet, so..."

"Bliss for a single dad, god I miss that kid, how is he?"

You told Robin about Steve's son, something he probably should be doing, but like you said he barely called her anymore either with the tight schedule he had. After a few more minutes of talking, Robin left you with a 'get him laid (y/n)' before hanging up.

It had made you laugh sarcastically again, but honestly, you didn't know what else to even do. Even as you walked out into the living room and saw him laying on the couch with his eyes closed he looked so fucking tense. His eyebrows were furrowed, his jaw was clenched, and you could see the tension in his shoulders as well.

You mindlessly walked over to the TV, turning it off for him, but the moment you did, his eyes opened and he was saying your name. You didn't look at him until he said your name a second time.

"Hey, I'm sorry okay, I had a bad day at work, Keith made me work overtime and-"

"Look Steve," you started with, "I get it, okay, you're stressed and I understand why! I thought maybe if I helped you out especially with your son you would be less stressed and less of, let's face it, a jerk to me, but god, it's like anything I do you just get mad at me."

Steve was taken back by your words, eyes blinking rapidly at you as he moved to sit up. You crossed your arms and stared at him expectantly, waiting for him to speak. He pressed his lips together before cursing under his breath and saying, "I know, you're right and believe me- I'm trying not to okay, I'm sorry for getting mad about the babysitter, it's fine, if anything I prefer you to take care of him because he loves you so much."

You were a bit touched by that, your expression softening slightly, but you were still mad at Steve so you kept the softness brief before forcing it back to your expectant one.

"Then what's the matter?" you asked him.

He slouched slightly, bringing his hands to his messed up hair as he groaned and said, "Trust me I feel like an asshole every time I snap at you like that...I just have all this tension, and I don't know what to do about it...should I try like..yoga or something? Meditation?"

You huffed at the idea of Steve doing yoga, and you moved to fall into the space next to him, gazing at him for a moment before saying, "Robin...thinks it's because you need to have sex or at least an orgasm."

You watched Steve pause, the hand rubbing his scalp halting at once, and he lifted his head and looked at you with yet another dumbfounded look. You shrugged weakly, averting your eyes away from him as you said, "It beats what I've been doing...feeding you sweets..."

His eyes grew wide, now knowing that was why and feeling slightly embarrassed that he had to be coaxed into having a better attitude, but before he could respond to that you continued, "And maybe...she's right? When's the last time you've...you know..." You made a jerking off motion, making Steve's cheeks become flushed.

"Uh..." he pressed his lips together tightly, actually taking the question serious and he found that he really couldn't remember the last time he'd jerked off, let alone had sex with anyone. And maybe, the more he thought about, the more Robin did have a point...

You shifted in your spot so that you were facing him, resting your arm on the back edge of the couch and looking curiously at him before nudging him.

He looked back at you, his tongue swiping his bottom lip gently before he nodded, "She's probably right, but if that's what it takes...yeah you're gonna have to deal with me."

You rolled your eyes, "Anyone would hook up with you still in a heartbeat Harrington, just ask any woman at the supermarket."

Steve shrugged, "So you say, but would I hook up with them? I don't know them, after that little guy in there...I don't think I can have sex with just anyone anymore.”

You were chewing on your inner cheek at Steve’s words, contemplating another thing Robin had told you…that you could actually help with her solution for him. You rested the side of your head in your palm, fluttering your eyelashes slightly at Steve before you said, “Well…it doesn’t have to be just anyone…would you be…more comfortable if it was someone you knew?”

It was a loaded question, you were well aware of it, and Steve seemed to understand immediately what you were suggesting. He looked at you again, brown eyes observing you closely, and his cheeks turning slightly red. You offered him a smile, and raised both eyebrows suggestively at him.

His lips parted for a second, and he ran his hand through his thick, messy hair as he replied, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

You didn’t want to look or sound too disappointed, or too eager either, but you did pout slightly, something he also caught, and you said, “We don’t have to have actual sex…I could just help you get off. It’s always better when someone does it for you, right?”

It was Steve shifting in his spot too now because the simple idea of you touching him down there was making his cock twitch in his sweatpants. He hadn’t been touched in a while, he knew that for sure now if just you suggesting it had him getting aroused.

He cursed underneath his breath, glanced down at his crotch, making you follow his gaze. You rested your eyes on the prominent outline of his cock through his sweatpants that you hadn’t noticed he was wearing until now. They were the gray pair that left little to the imagination in the first place when he wore them, but right now the hardness cock was painfully obvious and you felt heat spread through your abdomen.

You took a sharp intake of breath, remembering suddenly something Robin told you as well at the mall.

“I don’t know if you wanted me to know this,” you started, moving toward Steve wearily, he turned his head to look at you moving closer, “But Robin told me you used to have a crush on me.”

Steve blinked for a moment, then laughed nervously as he said, “She told you that?” You nodded, settling on your knees beside him, licking his lips again as he said, “She’s right…I did.”

“How come you never told me?” you asked him softly, “I might’ve given you a chance.”

He chuckled at that, liking the way you tilted your head at him so curiously again as he said softly that he didn’t know why he never did. You had always seemed like this girl that was so out of his reach despite being so close, up until right now at least, because you’ve never been this close to him and he had to stop his breath from hitching with arousal.

He knew the very reason it was a bad idea was because his ‘crush’ on you hadn’t exactly faded, if that heat he felt whenever you held his son said anything else, so he wasn’t sure what would happen if you both took this step like this. But fuck, the thought of being touched in the first time in what feels like forever in his mind send tremors of anticipation and arousal through him. And it was also the fact that you were asking to touch him, that you wanted to do it…and Steve wanted it too.

You were leaning slightly, and you said in almost a whisper, “So…let me help you.”

Steve’s breath hitched in his throat, feeling way too aroused from just you being so close, and he was nodding. He nearly groaned when he felt your fingers touching his thigh and moving upward until he felt the tips of your fingers touching his cock that was still confined in his sweatpants.

His breath shook, and his eyes fluttered shut for a second as you gently dragged your fingers up and down his hardening cock. Your head was tilted downward, listening to the way Steve’s breathing was becoming deeper and heavier with every drag of your fingers.

“Fuck, yeah that feels…so fucking good,” Steve said, his voice an octave deeper, “Keep going.”

You hummed in response, before pressing your hand against his cock and started to rub him. He nearly choked on the groan he let out, and he spread his legs for you, slouching slightly as his head hit the back of the couch. He felt your hand grasp him, starting to rub him in a way that felt so goddamn good even above the fabric of his sweats.

It was a quiet hum that made Steve look at you leaning over him now, his head falling forward. You looked so focused as you wrapped your hand around him, and ran your thumb over the tip then. Steve’s hips bucked upwards when you did that, and you chuckled softly, moving your other hand to grab the back of the couch again to steady yourself.

He felt so fucking big underneath your hand, and when your eyes caught sight of the dark gray spot that began to seep through the light gray fabric, your mouth watered like Steve’s did when he saw that stupid bear claw you bought him weeks ago.

You bit your bottom lip, running your thumb across his tip again and listening to the noises that Steve was letting slip past his lips as you moved your hand back and forth. You never took him for a vocal lover, but then again maybe it was because he hadn’t been touched by anyone in so fucking long and he probably couldn’t help it. But fuck, it was hot to hear him, especially when the moans turned into breathless cursing as your hand worked faster.

Your eyes moved to his face, taking in the sight of his eyes that were practically shining and his lips that were wet with his spit. You started to rub him again, and watched as he threw head back and groaned out a ‘fuck.’ It made you smile, almost proud of yourself and you glanced back down at his crotch, seeing the wet spot had only gotten bigger and more obvious the more he bucked his hips in his hand.

“Damn Steve,” you said breathlessly, making him look at you, “It’s worse than I thought. Are you going to cum in your pants right now?”

He laughed breathlessly as he replied, “Shut- oh fuck- shut up,” his voice cracked as you moved your hand faster and harder, then slower again, “Don’t - god- don’t act like you don’t know what you’re doing to me right now.”

You smiled innocently at him as you ran your hand over his entire cock again, “I can do more…if you want.” You were moving your hand off of him, making Steve whine at you for the loss of contact, but when he felt your hand at the waistband of his sweats, he was looking down at your hand, then back up at you.

Realizing what you meant, he said, “I shouldn’t…" You brought you hand back down to touch him again, and his eyes rolled back for a momennt before he said, "...but fuck I don’t even care, your hand feels so fucking good.”

At his words, you were lifting your hand back up and digging them beneath the waistband, feeling nothing but bare skin and you gasped and teased, “No boxers Steve? It’s almost like you knew…”

His cheeks grew even more red at this, and he said, “I never wear those when I wear these. Too uncomfortable.”

“Oh?”

He smirked at you, already knowing that you were pretending to be surprised. He was well aware that you knew he never did, having seen you staring when you thought he wasn’t paying attention. If anyone knew anything, it was you.

You leaned forward, pressing a light kiss to one of the many beauty marks that decorated the side of his neck, something you’ve actually always wanted to do, and Steve practically melted at the touch of your lips right there. He turned his head to face you, and you pressed your forehead to his as you asked him to tell you if he really wanted you to actually touch him.

And Steve cursed and said yes.

You reached your hand into his pants, listening to him gasp and then feeling him buck into your hands as you wrapped your fingers around the girth of his cock. You even let out a soft whine yourself, your eyebrows growing taunt just by how big he actually was in your hand.

Steve was right about you having stared before when he wore these pants, but you didn’t think he was this big even when you just rubbed him over his sweats not even a full two minutes ago. Letting out a shaky breath, you started to move your hand back and forth, pumping his cock and trying to contain your own whines that only edged Steve on. It was rough without any kind of lube, but Steve didn’t really care, just enjoying the feeling of your hand wrapped around him slowly jerking him off.

Your eyes were kept on each other, your foreheads touching and your noses just barely touching too. You feel his hot breath hitting you with every pant that slipped past his parted lips, and he could feel yours too. It would be easy to lean forward and make your lips touch too, to kiss you for the first time.

It was the way he was looking at you though that had you working harder for him, enjoying that blown out look in his pupils. You'd never seen him like this before, and it was making you pump him faster and harder.

“Steve…” you were saying his name, and with hooded eyes and an even quieter voice he asked you what it was you wanted to tell him. You licked your lips this time, knowing what you wanted and just saying it.

“Let me suck you off.”

His chest flooded with heat, and further anticipation, especially with how you said it, so desperate that he didn’t need to feel embarrassed by the way he sounded either.

“Are…are you sure you want to? You don’t have to,” he told you genuinely, “I’m okay with you getting me off like this…”

Your hand on him slowed down, simply rubbing him again that earned you a quiet groan as you said with a furrow of your eyebrows, “You’ve just been working so hard and stressing yourself out so much that you’ve been so cold to me…”

“Fuck I know- I don’t mean to be,” he replied, pressing his forehead more to yours, parting his lips trying to lean more upward so that he could kiss you. You let out a deep exhale, purposely keeping out of his reach and replied, “It’s okay, I know why you are...”

Steve rubbed his nose against yours too, wanting nothing more but to kiss you, but wanting to hear what you were going to say next.

“You’re such a good dad to the little guy, I think you deserve some kind of reward, some appreciation that none of your stupid co-workers or manager show you,” you told him with another few pumps of his cock between your hand, “Let me show you how I’ll appreciate you. You deserve this, Steve.”

For some reason, your words were spreading through Steve like wildfire that he felt like he might just come from your words. The words good dad, reward, and appreciation buzzing pleasantly through his head and itching a part of his brain that he didn’t even know existed. You saw this change in him, the way his eyes grew dark and you asked him again to let you appreciate him for being such a loving, good dad to his son.

“Yes, fuck, please,” he told you, and you smiled, leaning away before his lips could even barely touch yours, but he found he couldn’t be disappointed as he knew where those lips of yours were going. You stayed in your same spot beside him though, just shifting ever so slightly to give yourself more room before you were taking Steve’s hard cock out of his sweats.

You whined gently, even more impressed with how well endowed he was, and you looked up at Steve through your lashes and he shot you a smile. He knew that look because every time he was with someone for the first time they all gave him the same look of surprise before they started practically drooling at the sight of his thick cock.

He'd just never thought you'd be one of them.

You picked your jaw off the floor though, eyes shifting back to his pretty cock. You stuck your tongue out as you leaned down, dragging it from the bottom and upward. One of Steve’s hands went to his own head while the other reached upwards to rest on your back, his rough hands from working so much touching the soft skin of your back that was exposed from your shirt lifting in your new position.

“Shit- sorry,” Steve apologized, “Didn’t mean- to-” he choked out a soft groan as your tongue began to lick at the swollen tip of his cock, tasting the pre cum that was already there, “I didn’t mean to touch you-”

“You can touch me, Steve,” you told him breathlessly, his brown eyes resting on yours for a moment before your tongue was back on him. He pushed his own hair out of his face, focusing on your tongue and the heat in his stomach when you were suddenly taking him halfway into your mouth. He hadn’t expected that, considering how you seemed to be taking it nice and slow, and he moaned quite loudly.

He froze, eyes shooting toward the hallway, not wanting to wake up his son as it took a while for him to fall asleep. You didn’t really notice he did, getting him wet with the heat of your mouth and practically choking on him even though only about half of him was stuffed into your mouth.

When he heard no crying, Steve returned his focus onto you, making sure his noises of pleasure weren’t that loud again. His head fell back just over the back of the couch, enjoying the feeling of your hot and wet mouth around him as you started to bob your head up and down, the tip just barely touching the back of your throat, and your hand wrapping around the rest of him that you couldn’t take.

“Oh fuck, you’re right, I needed this- I needed this so fucking much,” he told you in a low, husky voice, his head dropping forward and his eyes moving over the curve of your body, resting on your ass that was sticking out in your current position. He barely realized you were wearing those terribly small shorts you wore when the ac was broken for a few days during the summer you moved in. It was winter now. He moved his hand lower to grab your ass, and squeezed the flesh there as he teased you by basically repeating what you told him earlier, “You’re wearing these shorts? It’s almost like you knew…”

You were taken off guard by his words and his hand squeezing your ass, so much that you hummed appreciatively around him, sending a pleasurable vibration up Steve’s cock and he practically gasped and bucked his hips upward in response. The sudden gesture caused his cock to hit your throat directly, and you were suddenly gagging. Your hand that wasn’t on his cock slapped onto his thigh and then you looked up at him, giving him a look that made him laugh breathlessly.

“Sorry,” he told you as you pulled off of him, deciding to use your hand for a moment, which felt much better with his cock covered in your spit. His eyes shifted from your hand pumping him, and back to your lips that were shining with your spit and looked more swollen than before. You were a very pretty sight indeed.

“It’s fine,” you told him, your voice slightly hoarse that Steve loved because it was because you were sucking his cock, you swallowed thickly and continued to say, “If you want me to take more of you, just ask.”

Steve sighed, and shook his head, “You don’t have to, I’m pretty big…don’t want to strain your throat.” You raised both brows at him, impressed by the smugness despite thinking he had every right to be smug. You’ve sucked cock before, but god, Steve had to be the biggest one and you liked a challenge.

You twisted your neck side to side, making Steve raise both eyebrows at you as he realized you were going to go for it as you got off of the couch and instead went to the ground between his spread open legs. Flashing him a little smirk, you were leaning down again and sliding him back into your mouth, flattening your tongue and lowering yourself as far as you could.

Your lips stretched out around the girth of him, your eyes closing as you focused on relaxing your throat so you can get at least most of him in.

The feeling of his cock so deep inside of your mouth had Steve’s smugness dissipating by the second. With every inch you took, he was becoming a mess, and he brought his hand to the back of your head. His breaths started to come in fast and heavy pants because holy fuck he didn’t expect you to be able to take so much of him, he never expected anyone to so with you doing this for him, it fucking wrecked him.

“God yeah, just like that, holy shit,” he told you, his voice becoming strained as you swallowed around him, “Fucking hell, yeah, yeah you know what you’re doing, fuck, fuck, fuck...”

His hand held on to the back of your head firmly, while your hands stayed on his thigh, wanting to prevent him literally going down your fucking throat when he finally came, which you knew he was close. You began to bob your head up and down again, making Steve moan out your name along with more curses that had you wanting to touch yourself.

The hand on the back of your head was helping you, lifting you and pushing down and he was very relieved that you were holding his thighs down because he couldn’t keep his hips from bucking upwards any longer. He was close, so fucking close, every time he hit the back of your throat you slightly gagged and it felt so fucking good, you felt good and he almost wanted to fucking thank you for doing this for him.

“I- I’m going to come,” he warned you between his pants and moans, “Yeah, yeah I’m going to oh my fucking god yeah-” His body folded toward you, his head dropping as he felt himself let out the longest, most hottest groan of his life when on the final bob of your head, you took him even further. He felt the back of your throat, and he was a goner.

With anyone else, Steve might’ve been embarrassed by his moans that turned into straight up whimpers as he came right into the back of your throat, and felt you desperately trying to swallowing. You took all of him, not wanting to pull away until you took every drop of cum he had to give you. His body twitched and convulsed with electric shocks of pleasure that he’d been denying himself of for a while now.

Steve lifted his head, letting out long breaths with his eyes still closed as you drank the last of him up. He was massaging the back of your scalp as you did so, saying things like why the fuck are so good at that and I haven’t came that hard in fucking forever.

His words made you smile smugly as you leaned away from him, your plump lips and chin covered in your own spit. His eyes softened at the sight of you though, and he moved his hand to gently cup your jaw and wipe your lip with his thumb almost affectionately.

“Feel…” you tried to speak, but your voice was more raspy than before. You had to clear your throat and Steve was smiling…again, which you promptly ignored because it was all smug like again, “Feel better?”

He sucked in a deep breath, wanting to steady his breathing as he thought about it. He honestly did feel a lot better, the tension he felt in his shoulders and back and basically every being released along with orgasm. He leaned back on to the couch, and nodded weakly.

“Yeah, I feel much better,” he replied, dropping his hand from your face to his thigh, right beside his softening cock. You nodded, content with that and started to move to stand, about to tell him that you were glad and needed to go to your room immediately for no particular reason related to the throbbing between your legs.

You didn’t account for your legs feeling wobbly though, and you fell forward onto Steve. He caught you quickly as your leg slotted between his, and you felt your cunt press against his thigh.

The pressure sent a jolt of pleasure through you when it did, and you were so turned on that you couldn’t stop the moan escaping your lips even if you wanted to. Steve gazed up at you, obviously having heard you and swallowed thickly as once again bit his bottom lip gently before releasing it.

You met his gaze, feeling slightly flustered that you’d moaned so easily, and maybe embarrassed because you didn’t want him to think you were expecting anything back, but then his hands were on your waist, as if wanting to keep you there.

“I’ve been thinking…for maybe about 2 minutes…” he started with, his voice slightly deeper, “It’s not just me who deserves a reward like this. You do too.”

He flexed his thigh underneath you and you gasped softly as the pressure again. Your hands flew to his shoulders, trying to steady yourself even though he was holding onto you.

“A reward for what? Dealing with you being a jerk?” you joked, and Steve nodded.

“Yeah,” he replied softly, “Let me make you feel good too…come on..” He was moving you to straddle him completely, and you settled right onto his lap, your clothed cunt pressing against his cock that was still out of his sweatpants.

His cock was still pretty sensitive from just coming that his eyes rolled back for a moment, before he asked you to lift your hips for him. You did as told, lifting your body to your knees above his lap and he was looking down at you before he brought his hand between your legs.

You moved your hands onto his shoulders again when you felt his fingers touching you, lightly at first, as if wanting to emulate the way you teased and touched him earlier. Your teeth caught your bottom lip, a quiet moan of his name making him look up at you with a heated gaze.

The soft moan of his name stirred Steve on as he pressed his fingers harder against your clit, starting to rub the bundle of nerves in small circles. The grip on his shoulders tightened as he did so, your teeth releasing your bottom lip as your moans turned into whimpers with his name being one of the things you kept saying.

“I’m sorry for being so mean to you,” Steve said, his voice strained, “I’ll be better, fuck, I promise.” His fingers moved faster and you didn’t even really listen to what he said, just chasing the pleasure his fingers were giving you and wishing there was no fucking fabric in the way.

“Fuck okay, okay,” Steve suddenly said, slowing down his movements, “Can you grind on me? I really need to feel you.”

You whined at the lost of contact because you felt so fucking close and too aroused to have him just stop like that, but then he was moving your hips back down so that your middles were pressed together again. The feeling of his cock against you again, which you were sure was half-hard, made you let out a choked out gasp and you were starting to grind against him like he asked without question.

The fabric of your shorts caused a delicious friction for Steve against his cock, especially with the way you were starting to grind against him, trying to get the same friction with your clothed clit. You cursed when his hips met your thrusts, and it hit your clit instantly, making you gasp and look down at Steve.

His head was tilted down, watching your clothed cunt drag across his cock, his lips were parted and pink as he looked absolutely enchanted by the way you were rutting against him desperately. It made it somehow even more hot that he was watching you so closely and you knew he was thinking about actually being inside of you…because you were thinking the same thing.

The mere idea of him burying that cock of his deep inside of you spurred you on, and you moved your hips faster, sending a jolt of ecstasy across your body. Steve cursed, especially as the couch even began to move by how hard you were grinding down on him and he felt his cock suddenly start to twitch again as you desperately rubbed your pussy on him.

“You’re getting me hard again,” he said with a gruff, his hands on your waist grasping you almost roughly as he moved you faster and harder on top of him, “Fuck, fuck yeah- do you feel fucking good? Grinding yourself against me like this?”

You dropped your head to meet his heated gaze as you nodded, “It feels so damn good, Steve.”

You clenched your teeth as you grasped the back of the couch now, wanting to give yourself more leverage, and Steve realized he couldn’t fucking handle this anymore as his cock hardened- he didn’t want you to come on his cock like this, thinking it would be a shitty reward compared to you sucking him off. He wanted to bury himself inside you, fucking you as deep as you could take him.

His mind was going absolutely feral at the idea your walls clenching around his cock, and he was asking you between his heavy pants, “I know I said no sex, but fuck it I need to be inside of you. Please let me fuck you, please.”

You didn’t hesitate as you said, “Yes, yes Steve please fuck me.”

Your answer was music to his ears, and he was moving you off of him and telling you to lay on your side on the couch. You practically fell onto the cushions of the large couch, with Steve squeezing behind you. You were pulling your shorts and underwear off while he kicked his own sweatpants off before he was grabbing your inner thigh and lifting your leg upward and telling you to keep it up as the hand went to his cock to stroke it a few times.

After a second or two, he positioned it right at your entrance, running the thick tip over your folds first that had you almost begging and he said in a gruff voice, “You’re fucking dripping…” He pushed his hips forward, the shaft of his cock pressing between your outer folds, letting your wetness soak him for a second before he was positioning the tip back at your entrance, gently shoving it between the folds of your pussy.

At this point, you were practically gone and had turned into nothing but a moaning, jittery mess that only wanted one thing and one thing only, which was him inside of you. You were actually starting to beg now, whimpers and pleas falling from your lips as you begged him to shove himself inside of you.

He wasted no time after that, pushing his cock deeper between your folds. The girth of him stretched you out almost immediately, and you almost choked on the spit that continued to collect in your mouth.

“Holy shit, Steve,” you told him, eyes growing slightly wide, “Please go slow.”

“I know,” Steve told you right beside your ear where his mouth was. You leaned back into him, your jaw dropping as he slowly pushed more into you, biting his lip at the feeling of you squeezing around him.

You squeezed your eyes shut, a whimper slipping past your lips as his cock stretched you out like no other had before and thinking this cock was going to ruin you because it was definitely going to be a hard one to beat, especially when it hit that spot inside of you that made your vision go starry.

You gripped the couch cushion beneath you, and buried your head into it as well as you took deep breaths, just feeling so goddamn full.

“It’s not even all the way in,” Steve told you with a smug chuckle before he kissed your earlobe gently and then your neck to try and help ease your pain of taking him specifically for the first time, “You're taking me so well though, baby, so fucking well. Tell me when you’re ready.”

After taking a few deep breaths, you lifted your head, turning it toward him and feeling his lips at the edge of your cheek as you started to nod, “I’m ready, god I’m ready.”

Steve complied almost immediately, starting to slowly pull out of you, then pushing himself back in, really holding himself back from shoving the rest of himself in because your pussy felt so fucking good around him. You leaned back on him, mouth open as you let out shattered whines along with Steve’s deep groans that were right in your ear.

It was like this for a bit, him slowly thrusting his cock in and out of you until you started to push your hips back for him, wanting him to go faster, but you actually accidentally took more of him. That almost made your scream out had it not been for his hand flying over your mouth.

“Do you wanna wake the little guy up?” Steve said quietly in your ear, voice now a rasp as well. You muttered against his palm an apology, and he shushed you as he started to move his hips at a faster pace for you, keeping his hand over your mouth still.

You tried to contain your moans, you really did, but he was fucking you so well and so deep that you couldn’t help it so thank god for the hand over your mouth as he fucked into you.

He pressed the side of his face into your hair, trying to contain his respective noises too but he sounded so loud in your ear. You grasped the couch tightly, feeling your nails even start to hurt as you felt your orgasm oncoming just from his cock.

Tears brimmed at the edge of your lash line as you moaned Steve’s name out in a muffled and broken voice, but you didn’t need to tell him you were about to come. He could feel your walls clenching down on him tighter, your body growing tense against him with every thrust that went slightly deeper than the one before.

“Go ahead, come all over my cock, baby, that’s it,” he told you breathlessly, “Oh fuck, that’s it- I can feel you.”

You mewled against his hand, feeling your walls start to spasm around him, and the intensity in your stomach twisted and turned as your orgasm built up until it finally snapped and you were cumming on his cock.

Steve had to force his own moan from feeling your walls flutter deliciously around him as you came, pressing his face into the crook of your neck, while still managing to keep himself contained because he might’ve come at the same exact time as you from this feeling.

His hold over your lips grew tighter, but you were still pretty loud as you came, shockwaves rocked through your entire body, so much that you swore you saw stars. Steve was shushing you in your ear at the same time as he slowed down his thrusts, letting you ride through your orgasm and your body still shaking because holy shit he was still fucking you.

Even with your vision blurry, and your body trembling from that mind-blowing orgasm, you could still feel his cock inside of you, thrusting at a lazy pace that made your eyes roll back and soft mewls to escape you parted lips.

It took you a second or two to realize Steve was saying something to you, but he sounded far away for a moment as the bursts of warmth still rocked through you, but you managed to hear him when you muttered something incoherent at him and he chuckled and repeated himself.

“Close your legs,” Steve told you as he slipped out of you and you did as told, thinking you were moving slower than normal when you actually did it quite fast.

Not a second after you felt his cock pressed into between your thighs, and you realized what he was doing. You pressed your thighs tighter around him, rocking back into him as his own moans got louder too. It was so fucking erotic, the feeling of his cock pressed between your closed thighs, feeling him grinding behind you as he desperately chased his own orgasm. He fucked between your thighs a few times, before he cursed loudly and pressed his chest into your back completely. With a moan of your name, he was coming for a second time.

His cum splattered all over your thighs, and unfortunately the couch as well, but mostly your thighs. It was hot against you, and you felt Steve press his face back into your hair and wrap both arms around you tightly as he panted and thrust his hips a few more times between your thighs, his own cum making it easier to slide back and forth.

His deep panting was hitting the back of your neck pleasantly, and you rubbed the back of your head on his with affection as his thrusts finally went still.

It took the both of you a few minutes to come down from your respective highs, your bodies pressed up against each other. When you did, Steve was lazily turning you around so that you could face him. You twisted around for him, your body feeling like there was a whole anvil on your chest or something.

When you managed to turn, you saw a dreamy smile on Steve’s lips and an adoring look in his gaze.

“Feeling better now?” You asked him again, and he was nodding, his messy locks of brown hair falling forward and you reached over to push them out of his face, “I’m glad I could help, honestly.”

You continued to play with his hair, something you’ve always wanted to do, and Steve licked his lips before he asked, “That wasn’t just to help me, was it?”

You met his gaze again, and said, “Well…I just heavily benefited from helping you.”

He scoffed at you before he grinned again and asked you smugly, “How long have you wanted me?” He paused, then added, “Please don’t say it was when I became a dad…”

You rolled your eyes at him as you rested your hand onto his cheek affectionately as you said, “No, it’s been way before that, when I said I wasn’t immune I meant just you.”

Steve was content with that answer, and then he saw something in your eyes before you continued to say, “I do have to admit though that…I’ve never been more attracted to you than I have been these past few months.”

He scoffed at you, but regardless smiled warmly at you. You returned it to him, and his eyes flickered down to your lips and his smile began to fall. You blinked at him, curious as to why he suddenly turned serious, afraid you’d said the wrong thing, until he was leaning in and capturing your lips with his like he wanted the moment you touched him, kissing you the way he had always wanted to.

You returned it, eyes fluttering shut as he kissed you soft and tenderly, causing more warmth than heat to erupt in your chest at the feeling of his lips consuming you entirely. His tongue slipped past your lips that parted for him, and you nearly melted on the spot…which was odd considering the events of the past hour or so.

After a good few seconds of your sweet kiss that made your heart flutter, he was leaning away to look at now with a very sleepy expression on his face. It made you smile, and you pecked him on the lips before you pressed your head into his chest and closed your eyes.

Steve wrapped an arm around you, feeling your legs entangling with each other as you both got comfortable on the couch, ready to fall asleep at any moment in this blissful embrace. And honestly, Steve felt thousands times better, and it was all thanks to you…and he hoped this wouldn’t be the last time and rather be the start of something else as his eyes fluttered shut…

Just as Steve closed his eyes, they were opening again. He found that he was alone on the couch. You were gone and there was a blue hue shining through the living room window, the way it always looked when he woke up to feed his son. He rubbed his eyes as he sat up, seeing he was in his sweats again and there was also a blanket thrown over him.

He wondered if it was a dream for a moment, but the ache in his body and the post bliss he felt all over him said otherwise. He was going to stand, and go to his son’s room when he saw you sitting on the lazy boy chair, the one that typically was covered with jackets and sometimes your bag, holding his son in your arms and holding a bottle to his mouth.

You were in a different outfit altogether, a pair of your own sweats, and a tank top, and you were looking at his son with such a warm stare that Steve could even see in the barely lit room. Steve smiled at the sight, and he settled back down onto the couch, and said in a sleepy voice, “I think Robin’s solution worked…but I wouldn’t mind doing it again.”

You lifted your eyes, taking a moment or two to realize that Steve was talking and what he said. You smirked gently and replied in a teasing voice, “Maybe take me out on a date first, and I’ll think about it.”

He smiled again as his eyes began to close again as he said, “Thursday night, I know a place…”

“It’s a date then, Steve,” you replied quietly, your eyes moving back to the baby in your arms. The last thing Steve saw before getting another hour or 2 of sleep was you smiling sweetly at his son in your arms.

#pls single dad steve has me a whole ass chokehold and i cant helpt but become undone #pls enjoy #i wrote it in what i can only describe as a fever dream #caused by a fair amount of iced coffee #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #steve smut #reader insert #female reader #lys writes saucy things #single dad steve harrington #single daddy steve

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hanbindans · 11 months

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ways they're comforting (hyung line)

a/n: listening more closely to the in bloom lyrics ruined me so I'm posting this from my drafts. I'll get to the maknae line soon enough but since I already wrote the hyungs I'll post them first. enjoy me screaming into the void 🤍

jiwoong

you're like the older brother I never had. there's something comforting in the way you are exactly how I want to be when I grow up; considerate and caring and willing to love someone regardless of their flaws- kind to others but more importantly to yourself. you remind me that it's possible to go through all the stages of adolescence and young adulthood, and both see and feel so much hopelessness and negativity and doubt, and still be able to see happiness in all the small things. like finding peace in petting a small, fluffy animal. you've become the type of adult we all look up to. I'm so proud of you.

hao

I don't know, I just see so much of myself in you. in the way you were the smart kid who did well in school, the kid who worked hard at everything he did, the kid who got compliments from teachers and other people's parents. you could have had anything you wanted- you would have done what it takes to achieve it- and you chose with your heart. people probably had a lot of (high) expectations on you and you made a decision that was for you- something that you really wanted- and you worked as hard as you always did because you knew that you could do it if you really wanted to. I envy your courage to chose with your heart and follow your dreams. maybe one day I can learn it from you.

hanbin

sometimes I think that I can see when your perfect mask starts to slip and your facade cracks a little, and you race to patch up the holes before anyone takes notice. it's okay. I do it too. in some ironic way it makes you even more relatable. there's so much good in you and there's even more desire to be good, do good, make it overflow and spread to everyone around you and paint the whole world in yellows, smiley-faces and sunflowers. "don't regret what you do". I'm not sure if it's meant for me or for yourself. I hope it's for yourself. I hope you let yourself be bright, loving, and most importantly happy, even if it makes you imperfect, more raw, and easier to hurt. people will be ready to love you just as you are. they will love you because they want to return the good you have given. you make me want to do more good.

matthew

there's something very genuine in the way you carry yourself. it's unfair to just call it "unfiltered"- I think I would call it unapologetic, authentic, honest. you're not the type of person to lie about what type of music you listen to or order a plain salad when you're with people you don't know too well. I still have a feeling that you want to be impressive, but you don't try hard to impress. you want to do and be and try so many different things but you won't do it anything at your own expense. you will always say what's on your mind, always do things your way, even if not everyone agrees with you, because it's your life and you won't live it for others. it's admirable. please don't ever start apologising for the way you are.

taerae

I love how you're the colour yellow personified. from the duck emojis to the way you laugh at every joke like they're the funniest thing you've ever heard. you're so warm and fun and I just want to be around you all the time so I can re-learn how to be silly and not wince at the way my face scrunches up when I laugh. it's like you've already figured it out. how to be kind and caring and happy without being scared of being soft and vulnerable. there's so much comfort but also stability and security radiating from you and it's so infectious. I hope you never waver from that. I hope your laugh will always fill up the room and you will keep drawing your ducks and you will keep making your silly little poses. you seem like you're having so much fun.

#zb1 scenarios #zerobaseone scenarios #zb1 reactions #zb1 imagines #zb1 fluff #zb1 drabbles #zerobaseone imagines #zerobaseone drabbles #zb1 #zerobaseone #kim jiwoong #sung hanbin #zhang hao #kim taerae #seok matthew #this was the most I could do without it turning into incoherent rambling #but I do like these guys a lot actually they are all very neat

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ghostflowerhotpotch · 11 months

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How good of a parent is George Stacy?

Okay, this was going to be part of another post, but it got so long that I decided that you know what? Let's give its own.

I want to make one about Miles's parents and a bit of a preview: 1) Rio and Jeff, while not perfect, LEAGUES better than George, and all things considered they almost deserve a medal for how patient they are about the situation and 2) Part of the reason that post hasn't come out yet, is because I had been trying to get dig some sources about some cultural differences between America vs Latin America, as well as Puerto Rico and the importance of family (because I am not from PR, just to make sure instead of assuming is similar because our countries aren't that far,) and how diaspora also impacts this.

As you can imagine, that's a lot of things to consider, unlike this, that is the equivalent of not-so-well adjust adult in their mids twenties screaming about adult parents because hey, I am bitter and I think Gwen deserves better.

This also will talk a bit about cops, implied childhood neglect, nothing would get too graphic but take this into account.

Let's go!

There are many reasons why I think this, but let's start with the biggest one: Peter's death.

Now, I can't say this is entirely George's fault; if you see things from his perspective, it all makes sense in his eyes.

In his eyes, you need to have a public face when you do this type of job, you shouldn't hide. That sounds dumb, especially when taking into account the type of villains spider people fight, which usually is the type that will try to go to your loved ones to hurt you.

However, he kind of has a point. If there is damage, if someone else gets hurt, even by accident, the person who did should be able to face consequences.

Do police do this? Not really, at least not in most places I had lived, maybe is different somewhere else, but let's not dig too much into politics here. Perhaps in Gwen's universe the police system works; this is a work of fiction with super senses that can travel past dimensions and time, this isn't the craziest thing.

Going back to the point.

In George's eyes, SpiderWoman, at least at the beginning, should give a name, since you shouldn't hide with that amount of power. The guy doesn't realize the fine print because either he isn't aware of it, or thinks the bad guys can be stopped easily enough that the vigilante in question shouldn't worry.

Then, the next time you see her, she is with the corpse of your daughter's best friend; and for how she behaves later; the last friend she has to his knowledge.

Sure, he doesn't have any idea of what happened, but as far as he knows, she killed him. This also checks out with the fact that he believes you shouldn't hide, and go by the book; he probably believes that if she truly didn't do anything, Spiderwoman would have cooperated with the police because is innocent; so if she is running, is because she is guilty.

Could all this be fixed if she had talked to him at some point about this? While she was hugging Peter's corpse, while grieving him, before this all happened? Maybe, maybe if he could have known what was at risk, why she was doing it; and emotions weren't running high, this could have been better.

There is some blame on both sides in this situation, however-

This, is a good indicator of something.

Look, we don't have an exact time of how long has been since Peter died, or when exactly this conversation happened, we aren't even sure how much time has been since ITSV in this instant either. We only know this conversation happened a few months before ATSV, and that's not much.

However, I can't believe this is too recent, anyone feels free to bring me the evidence; but until we have something set in stone, I believe Peter died not so long after Gwen became Spider Woman, if only because the bite and the death of someone close to them are fairly close. And by ITSV, Gwen already has been SpiderWoman for 2 years.

(I don't think it was a matter of days, personal headcanon is a few weeks, since Peter had pictures of SpiderWoman and everyone close to her knew about it, which meant she already gathered a bit of a name in the area. As well as enough for Peter to want to be more like her.)

All of this is to say: It has to be a while, and Gwen is clearly not interested in this topic.

Considering the possible timeline, it has been a while since Peter died; I don't think this is the first time they have had a similar conversation, maybe not with Gwen shouting, but with her preferring to not talk about it, or move on.

Is not that odd; sure, partially because Gwen doesn't want her dad to hate her alter ego, but the fact of the matter is this: Gwen is telling her dad that she doesn't want revenge, she doesn't want to continue chasing anyone. Even if Gwen and Spiderwoman were different people; Peter was her best friend, she was the one who suffered the biggest loss, and she has the right to mourn her friend as she wants.

I understand that George needs to do his "job," and that a lot of people feel relieved when the murder of a loved one is captured; but Gwen is telling him that is not going to her grief, and he clearly hasn't been able to help her with that.

I didn't want to put that image because this post is going to be long; however, when Gwen says she quit the band, he looks a bit unsure at first, and then breaks the news that he feels they are closer to capturing Spiderwoman.

George is trying to bring good news, but the fact that she commented on quitting the band, and this was his first idea to how "cheer her up," shows how much he doesn't know how to help her out.

Can't he help her because she isn't telling him the full story? Yes, but that fear comes out of nowhere? Nope!

I try to do one pic with multiple scenes for this one, it's a trial; hopefully, Tumblr doesn't mess up the quality too badly.

George says "I have a job to do," when Gwen says Spiderwoman may be innocent. Not only this is the truth, George doesn't have all the facts; Spiderwoman was cradling Peter's body when he came by, and she ran away after he pointed a gun at her and has been hostile. The fact that anyone would be nervous at that doesn't come across his mind, let alone; the position she was in with Peter wasn't anything close to lethal. Not to mention that the other students should at least have mentioned, that the lizard try to attack them, and probably that regardless of what happened to Peter was voluntarily or not, as far as everyone is aware, no one knew Peter was the lizard. I doubt they didn't examine his body to figure that one out, considering this is supposed to be attempted murder so they probably checked stuff.

I bet this happens often. Look, I get it, both of my parents are alive but I grew up mostly with one parent for most of my life, and this parent had a very time-consuming job, as well as energy-consuming. I understand that even if we don't know how long Gwen's mom has been gone (though you can guess a while considering she isn't mentioned at all in either movie.) George has a job to do. That being said...Gwen has probably suffered from this; you can see it later in her face, in the fact that her color changes (she was blue as sadness, got warm when they hug, and then went back to blue when he left her.) She probably has to spend a lot of time alone for this, perhaps for a while she was terrified that she would lose her dad forever in a job, considering how dangerous is his line of work. And while it may be the right thing to do for your work/duty, it definitely means he is prioritizing his job over her; Gwen said it more than once, her dad is all she has, and she probably doesn't have an uncle Aaron, even with other living relatives, they are clearly not close enough. If he dies, Gwen effectively becomes an orphan, and goes to the house of someone she isn't close to, blood or not. (Sidenote, hey how are the chances Miles also had the same fear, and both becoming heroes partially, to ensure they can be there for their respective fathers?) Let me tell you a painful truth; even if George has good intentions in doing what he does, none of that eliminates Gwen's pain. If a kid loses a parent in a fire-related accident because the parent was a firefighter and they risked their life, it doesn't mean the kid doesn't grieve a parent just because said parent didn't abandon them like a deadbeat; in fact, if it is for a noble reason, it may make those feelings more complicated and difficult to deal, especially without professional help (that I doubt Gwen has gotten much of.) And I am sorry, but there is a difference even in my hypothetical scenario, because is one thing having a risky job when you have another partner, and in case you have family or friends that can be there for them in case something happens to you. As far as we can see, the closest they had was Ben and May Parker, which is nowhere to be found in the present time. I am sorry, but in my eyes, that's failing Gwen, especially because she is suffering from needing to deal with sudden absences, possible wounds, and scares.

She is giving her big speech as to why she needs to do this after he attempts to walk on her for being salty (which I still feel annoyed at, I think he should have groveled, but WHATEVER, not the point.) And he is trying to justify this as "you need to obey the law no matter what." Look, I understand there are laws for a reason, but laws can be fallible, and in this case, hurt the wrong people. Both in real life and in this moment, if they try to go by the law, things would get worse; Gwen would have her identity leaked, and even if proven innocent, more people would be at risk for it.

The last two pics show the same point but also illustrate the gravity of the situation in different ways. First, George refused to listen to Gwen, despite her trying to explain the situation to him. And btw, the second? that's not when she is masked, that's when she has already revealed her identity, just before Miguel shoots a trap at him. Sure, he may not have pulled the trigger, but that's EXTREMELY close to pointing at her, and let's remind you, he didn't stop because he remembered she was his daughter, he didn't have to point directly at her because Miguel threw a trap to him before it happened; maybe he wouldn't have pointed at her, or truly pull the trigger; however, do I need to say how absolutely HORRIFYING is for him to do this to her?

I know, all of this is happening in a specific timeline of their lives, and doesn't necessarily need to reflect their reality the rest of the time, much less that maybe things were better before Peter's death, or before she became SpiderWoman.

To that, I said: that may be an argument for real life, but this is a movie, normally, you try to show often, things that show you how a dynamic works so you have an idea of what's going on in the character's lives.

(For example, in ITSV, we see in the beginning Miles being late for school, barely getting ready, and talking to a bunch of people before his dad picks him up. While this is a new day for him, it also gives us an idea of what's normal for this family and their dynamics on a semi-regular basis.)

George, repeatedly puts his job over Gwen; there are even other hints in moments I didn't bother to show. And this is not new; as I pointed out, which really is a bad look.

Now, do I think is the worst? No, of course not; I had seen way worse before.

To be fair, this is the defense.

He is interested in what she is doing, and being his idea ask her how the practice went and check on her. Yeah, he didn't know what to say about her quitting, but aside from the guy not being the best emotionally wise (which he looks like Gwen inherited from him, not shocking considering the very likely scenario that the mom kicked the bucket early and may have also had the same issue for all we know,) but he is trying to ask about it and isn't mad for her leaving like that.

I know what you are going to say "WAIT, didn't you put this as a negative earlier?" Yes, and I still think is a negative, however; there are nuances in everything, and if I brought up the bad in that scene, I need to recognize the best. Do I think he should take the hint and drop the topic, at least? Yes, but I say this earlier: He thinks this would help, and in most cases, it does help; a big part of the reason is not going to do it in this scenario is because it makes more messes than anything else, yet if the scenario was exactly what he thought it was, perhaps it would have helped. As far as he is aware, Gwen just wants to drop the subject because she may be disappointed this hasn't been solved already, and the fact that even if it isn't, it looks like the real reason she has become so much angry and solitary.

This one kind of addressed both images, and none of them are big talking points, however, I need to say it: 1) It was HIS idea to ask for a hug, and mind you, asking; maybe is because I am someone who can't hug people they aren't comfortable with, but I prefer people ask me, especially when I am feeling emotional. 2) See how he looks at her, he clearly loves his daughter.

Gwen went to hug him, if he was that much of a horrible father, she wouldn't have done this, let alone as quickly.

I know this one carries controversy, but yes, I believe Gwen is a trans girl, and probably has been out for a while (nope, I don't have sources or similar, just hc based on other clues.) I don't think I can say anything that someone else didn't say already, so I will not analyze why I think this is the case. I will say this; yes, I am aware there is no hard proof in the movie. Yes, I think is okay if other people think her dad is trans, or Peter was, or maybe everyone is just an ally. My only issue is people saying is IMPOSSIBLE to happen, or that is not the case because (insert theory with no hard proof, meaning is okay to believe it, but not to push it down anyone's throats.) With that out of the way; as someone who is trans, I can't say enough about how having a parent supporting a transition is MASSIVE. Especially early on.

He QUITS. Did he wait at the end after doing something absolutely horrifying to her, leaving her in a very vulnerable position that technically, lead her to be in a dangerous position? Yes, it took a while all things considered? Also yes. I consider those factors important, HOWEVER, he decided to quit. While the emotional wounds are probably still there, he is finally listening, and deciding to change for Gwen. Mistakes or not, he is doing the right thing, and is up to Gwen if she can forgive him or not. And she does, which should show something.

Again, it needed a very serious experience, but this was the wake-up call he needed. I didn't show it all, but he says how his job as a Captain doesn't matter anymore, because ultimately he loves her more than his position, and she is at the end of the day, the best thing he has ever done. Not becoming captain, not detaining a dangerous criminal or anything, her. I believe it would have been valid for Gwen if she decided to not forgive her dad, or that they still have a long road to recover; nonetheless, I think when you aren't the one who was directly affected, you need to take into account when someone decides to do the right thing, and turn a new leaf. Is one thing to not be able to move past a betrayal for someone really close to you; and another is hearing someone you know to some degree made mistakes and then fix them. It took me a while (in fact, almost 3 hours; there is another post that is half-done since this was part of something else, but yeah.) While I believe George Stacy did mistakes, he is turning a new leaf, and working to be better. And that's amazing in itself. If anyone thinks that the bare minimum or some of my points were the bare minimum, I think that's fine. My baseline for parenting and judging parents is kind of off, and that's as much detail as I want to give about it. One way or another, I think George for a while, wasn't able to support Gwen in all the ways she needed; he was trying his best, and a few things aren't his fault considering the circumstances. However, Gwen definitely needs more than him. Next, Gwen's possibly wanting a mom, and the role Jess plays in all of this.

#across the spiderverse #atsv #george stacy #gwen stacy #atsv files #captain stacy

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poppybros-jr · 11 days

Note

Dazor:Hey, Cosmo. I was wondering how you feel about your siblings? Uh- Good luck in the tournament.

…I mean, sure. I’m more than happy to talk about my siblings. I’m not sure why I started talking like that, to be honest. I’m very sorry, it won’t happen again. Just… get comfy, ‘cause I’m the fourth of five siblings so this might take a while!

@a-stardusted-sky

WARNING! This ask is a very long one, and it also delves into more serious territory than usual, so it goes under a cut. Content warning for mentions of divorce, parental emotional abuse/estrangement and childhood trauma resulting from the disappearance of a sibling.

Also tagging this as propaganda because we’re getting into backstory. @kirbyoctournament

Firstly, Stella! My twin sister! She hatched half an hour before I did, and we joke that it’s so she could be there to help me out of my shell. Because that’s what she still does even to this day!

We used to perform together under Stella’s name, using our identical looks to pull off a ‘teleportation’ trick. We were only kids at the time, so that was the only trick we did in the whole show. It got boring pretty quick, and I didn’t like that I didn’t get to have my name on the posters, but I was scared to say anything. Stella wasn’t, though! A couple of years ago she said she wanted us to be a proper double act, and that if I didn’t get recognition for my skills she simply wouldn’t perform. It worked! I actually figured out I was a boy not long after that, so I’m really glad we don’t have to be perfectly identical anymore. She’s trying to encourage me to perform solo, too, but I don’t have the same charisma she does, so I don’t know if I can do it as well as she does.

I’m really glad she’s my big sister. She’s the most supportive, kindest sister ever. And the most fun! She can be a little annoying sometimes with how excitable and silly she is, and sometimes her energy wears me out, but I’d never want her to change. She’s the best. Like a ray of sunshine!

Celeste is the baby of the family. She’s very shy.

She was only little when Marx ran away, and our parents apparently decided to use her as a… do-over, I guess? Our mum especially wanted her to be everything Marx wasn’t and put a lot of pressure on her to fit her expectations. But Celeste really didn’t like performing, so she got more and more quiet… We’re staying with our aunts at the moment because of our parents divorcing, though, and she’s starting to feel much better. She’s trying out different things to find something she likes. She seems very interested in the production side of the circus, like music and lighting. I think that no matter what she does when she grows up, she’ll do amazing. She’s really smart! Much smarter than I was at her age!

She hardly ever talks, but she’s an absolute sweetheart, and if anyone tries to hurt her I will DESTROY THEIR LIFE. :)

Since we live with our aunts now, our cousins the Poppy Bros are like our honorary siblings!

Poppy Bros Sr (Pop for short) and Poppy Bros Jr (Poppy for short) are the owners of the circus! Well, Pop is. Poppy will co-own it when they’re an adult. Poppy is also part of the Star Allies and helped out with that whole mess with the weird shadowy heart things a few years back! I want to join someday too so I can help protect Popstar!

Pop is a great boss. When I was a little kid I thought he was intimidating, but he’s really just a big softy! He’s always asking me how I’m doing and listens to all my ideas. He’s very understanding if I’m not feeling well enough to perform or get stage fright, and he never pressures me. I don’t know him that well, though, since he’s a lot older than me.

As for Poppy? I like them! After Marx ran away, they stepped in to be our older sibling since he couldn’t do it anymore. They still look out for us even now! They stand up for us whenever we need backup and they always have time to hang out with us. They were best friends with Marx before he left, so it must have been very hard on them at the time, but they always put on a brave face. I respect them a lot! They’re still a massive nerd who’s obsessed with bombs, though. They specialise in confetti firework bombs that look really pretty! If I count Pop and Poppy as my siblings too, that makes me sixth out of seven instead of fourth out of five.

Did I remember everyone? I feel like I’m forgetting someone… Oh, right! This jerk.

I’m gonna put this out here right now, okay? I do NOT condone the crimes Marx committed. He did some really bad things! That is not okay. That said, I’m talking specifically about my own relationship with my big brother, okay? Okay. Here we go.

I think Marx is a great brother. He’s not much older than me and Stella, so we were very close growing up and we still are even now. Some people are surprised to hear that I’m close to Marx, ‘cause most of the time we spend together, we’re either insulting each other or daring each other to do gross or dangerous things. I think those people have never had brothers.

It hurt a lot when he ran away. Stella and I both knew he wasn’t happy. He got into fights with our parents a lot and was always causing trouble. But we tried very hard to help him feel better. We played with him all the time. After he left, we thought it was our fault for not trying hard enough, but after he came back to Popstar he told us it wasn’t. I still feel bad about it sometimes, though. He doesn’t live with us anymore because he doesn’t want to be around our parents, but our aunts take us to visit him as much as possible.

Sometimes I still have bad dreams that he ran away again and died, or turned into a monster, or other bad stuff. It’s scary. I usually call him when that happens so I can talk to him. He doesn’t care if I call him in the middle of the night. He doesn’t sleep much anyway. And then the next time I visit he gets me donuts. The kind with the blueberry jam filling that I like.

He’s definitely not perfect. Not even close. Sometimes his insults get too mean. Or he’ll play a prank on me that upsets me. But he always says sorry and tries to make it up to me once he realises he hurt me. That’s more than what some people will do. I’m scared of a lot of people, but I’m never scared of him.

I do think he’s a stinky loser with a face like a Scarfy that got stuck halfway, though. :)

…

… Okay, that was definitely everyone! All of us are accounted for! Thanks for the question, Dazor, and I’m sorry I kept you so long. Here, take an ice lolly with you! You get first choice!

#poppy draws #cosmo noddy #kirby oc tournament #kirby oc tournament propaganda #others’ ocs #stella noddy #celeste noddy #poppy bros sr #poppy bros jr #marx kirby #sorry for the extremely long post!#cosmo stop praising your brother he has committed Crimes #noddies hatch from eggs in this au #cosmo definitely mentioned every sibling don’t worry about it nobody’s missing :)#item acquired: big bag of frozen treats #item still present: that ding dang fish bone

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vodika-vibes · 7 months

Text

Golden Thread

Summary: 12 years after your parents banished you to the Labyrinth, you finally have a chance at freedom. And Prince Bly is determined to ensure that you get it.

Pairing: Prince!Bly x F!Reader

Word Count: 3912

Warnings: Violence

Tagging: @trixie2023, @the-bad-batch-baroness

A/N: This was supposed to be a Rapunzel AU, but I apparently wasn't feeling Rapunzel, so this is what was born instead.

Divider by Saradika

When you were a child, your father used to scoop you into his arms and toss you into the air, and you never had to worry about whether or not he would catch you, because he always did.

He would press his face against yours, and press your nose against his, and he would tell you, “Your mother and I loved you so, so much that we just had to raise you as our own!” And you would giggle and hug him.

You never doubted your parents' love for you.

After all, they told you they loved you every day.

And as you got older, your mother would bundle you up onto her lap and braid your hair, and tell you stories of wizards and princesses who were locked in towers. “Ah, my little dove,” She would say in her scratchy voice, “There are only two types of people who live in towers: Wizards and Princesses.” And then she would tickle you and press kisses all over your face, until you were giggling and squealing.

And then you’re ten years old, and your parents don’t take you to the market anymore, and your mother asks, jokingly, how you felt about becoming locked in a tower, and you press your face into her stomach and say, “Mama, I’m neither a wizard nor a princess, towers aren’t for me!”

Your parents moved you into the labyrinth the following week, with your only companion being the half human-half bull child, named Mnemosyne. He’s the same age as you, and has been living in the labyrinth since he was an infant.

You remember, later, raging and screaming at your parents while Nemo keeps you from running into one of the deadly traps that keep him contained. They left you there, in the cold and dark, with only Nemo to keep you company.

That was only 12 years ago now, and you have grown into an adult. You’re perfectly at home in the labyrinth, and you are familiar with the twists and turns as it grows and changes.

“Sister,” Nemo’s voice is low and rumbly, “I found a new passageway.”

“Oh? Did you smell anything interesting?” You ask.

“Fresh food,” He replies, “But also people. Recent people.”

You turn your attention away from your book, “You think other people have entered the labyrinth?” You ask.

Nemo rumbles low in his chest, and your hair stands on end, “If they have, I will kill them.”

Your brother has become violent and dangerous over the years. Not towards you, never towards you, but you know that if anyone else were to enter the labyrinth, Nemo would kill them…and probably eat them.

“There’s no need for such dramatics, brother mine.” You say lightly as you close your book with a snap and set it on the table, “How about I go and check it out, and if we’re lucky I’ll be able to make stew tonight.”

Nemo grumbles, “Hate stew. Not enough meat.”

“Now you’re just fussing to fuss, Nemo.” You scold gently, as you stand from the ratty old couch that Nemo dragged back to your shared quarters years ago. “I’ll be back shortly.”

You leave the shared quarters and head into the labyrinth proper and you sigh. The Labyrinth has changed Nemo, twisting him from an innocent child into something monstrous. He has taken to hovering around you more and more, and the way he looks at you sometimes-

Well…it’s only a matter of time before he kills you.

You head deeper into the labyrinth, twisting and turning down familiar passages, until you find the new one that Nemo told you about. As with every other part of the labyrinth, the stone walls look to have been colored with red clay, though the further down the stone started looking more and more like granite.

You follow the passageway from the labyrinth, into what looks like a massive garden. There are rows and rows of flowers and other decorative plants, but nothing that you could use as food.

You’re disappointed, but not really surprised.

Aside from the ranch where you and Nemo have to negotiate for your weekly allotment of food, none of the other places the labyrinth opens up to have ever led to food.

Still, the feel of sunlight against your skin and warm breeze through your hair is nice enough that you consider just sitting and staying for a time. Anything, really, to get you some space from Nemo.

You walk further into the garden, your fingers trailing lightly over the flowers…it’s been years since you’ve seen flowers that exist solely to be flowers. And they’re not trying to kill you, like that one whole section of labyrinth that is home to man eating plants.

“Oh.” You jump at the sound of a voice from behind you, and for a moment you fear that it’s Nemo. Only the voice isn’t half gravelly enough to be your brother, “I’m fairly certain you’re not supposed to be here.”

You spin on your heels, and look up into the face of a man. He’s taller than you, and broader, but then, you’ve never been a particularly big person to begin with, and twelve years living underground has stunted your growth…probably.

He’s handsome, with short cropped black hair and yellow tattoos on his face, “I’m sorry.” You say, your voice hushed, “I’ll leave.”

He scans your face for a moment, and he frowns, “You don’t have to do that. You don’t seem to be hurting anything.” He takes half a step towards you, “My name is Bly, what’s your name?”

You hesitate, and then reply with your name, and he smiles at you warm and broad, and your stomach does a flip.

Bly moves even closer to you, his smile never once wavering, “How did you even get in here? The gate’s locked.”

“Um…well…there’s another entrance.” You admit as you tuck your hair behind your ear, nervous though you’re not sure why.

“Another…?” Bly looks surprised, “Where?”

Even more hesitantly, you point in the direction of the labyrinth entrance, “Over there.”

He turns and stares. Bly stares for long enough that you worry that maybe he doesn’t see the entrance, but you also worry that he does see the entrance to the labyrinth.

“Where the hell did that come from?” Bly asks, turning fully to stare at the entrance.

“Uh…if it’s any consolation, it’s new?”

“It’s not.” Bly replies flatly, “This Labyrinth is your home?”

“Home. Prison.” You shrug, “Sort of the same thing, really.”

He stops and turns to stare at you, “What.” His voice is flat, and that handsome smile is gone.

“Uh…well…my parents decided to lock me in the labyrinth with my brother. Twelve years ago.” You nervously tuck your hair behind your ear again, “So, you know, Home. Prison. Same thing.”

He continues staring at you, and you shift nervously, “Right. Right, okay. So…that stops.”

“I…uh…what?”

Bly smiles kindly and offers you his hand, “Come on. I’ll get you inside, and we can get you proper food and well fitting clothes. And you never have to go back to the labyrinth.”

“I…” You stare at his hand, longing warring with indecision.

Is it really that easy? Can you just…not go back?

Bly waits patiently, a gentle smile on his face. A smile that broadens into a grin as you slowly, hesitantly, take his hand. His hands are calloused, likely from practicing with the sword that sits comfortably on his hip, and this close it’s obvious that Bly is a soldier.

But you don’t feel nervous or even intimidated by him.

You feel safe.

And isn’t that a kick to the gut? When was the last time you felt safe?

**************

“Are you alright, sarad?” Bly’s voice is quiet but he makes his footsteps loud as he walks up behind you. The family and staff at the palace learned, the hard way, that you react violently when people sneak up on you.

Though they’re always kind enough to not ask questions, even after that one time you accidentally broke Prince Neyo’s jaw when he snuck up on you.

You’ve been living in the palace for two weeks now, and aside from a few mishaps -sleeping is hard above ground, and you’re so twitchy at times- you’re starting to feel settled.

Starting, but not quite there yet.

“Just thinking,” You reply, belatedly realizing that Bly had asked you a question. Your gaze is locked on the sealed off entrance to the Labyrinth, just barely visible from where you’re leaning against the railing on the balcony.

Bly leans against the railing next to you, “Well, I’m happy to listen, if you want to share?”

You turn your head to look at him, “Why are you so nice to me?” You ask in return.

“Well, because being nice is my default setting,” Bly replies drily, “But also, the first time I saw you, you looked like you needed a friend.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Your gaze drifts back towards the labyrinth.

“Are you homesick?” Bly asks, shifting closer to you so that you can feel the warmth from his body through the thin tunic he’s wearing.

“Not homesick.” You shake your head and absently lean into his warmth, “the labyrinth was never home. But I do feel guilty.”

“About your brother,” Bly replies.

“Yes.” You tremble slightly, “He must be so angry.”

“Hey,” Bly presses his hand against your shoulder, sending warmth right down to your toes, “As soon as the Master Wizard comes up with a way to map the labyrinth, we’ll go and find your brother. I promise.”

“...you don’t understand.” You whisper.

“I know that I’d do anything for my brothers,” His hand slides from your shoulder and up your neck, and then settles against your cheek. Bly gently tilts your head to look him in the eye, “And we’ll do the same thing for yours.”

His thumb lightly brushes against your lips, and you inhale sharply. Bly slowly pulls his hand away from your face, “Sorry,” He whispers.

“It’s okay.” You whisper right back, “what…what if my brother can’t be saved?”

Bly’s hand cups your face again, “Do you trust me?”

You’re quiet for a long moment, and then you sigh and nod once, “Of course. You’re a good man.”

He grins at you, “Then trust me to save your brother.”

You turn to look at him, and you reach out, pressing both of your hands against his face, “Bly…my brother-”

He places his hands on top of yours, and gently pulls them away from his face. And then, with his gaze locked with yours, he presses feather light kisses against your knuckles, “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

You shiver at the feel of his breath against your skin, and Bly smiles at you, “Let’s get you back inside, sarad. It won’t be long before we save your brother. I promise it.”

You want to believe him. You do.

But you know, in your heart of hearts, that this is not going to end well. And that it’s only a matter of time before Nemo breaks through the magical barrier holding him back.

And it is holding him back.

You glance at the entrance to the labyrinth, and shiver when you see a pair of malevolent red eyes glaring up at you from behind the barrier, but when you blink the eyes are gone.

Bly drapes his arm over your shoulder, and guides you inside, “Look at you, sarad, you’re shivering. Let’s get you warmed up.”

Two days later, you’re standing in the garden with Bly, the Court Wizard and King Jango, while the old wizard squints at the barrier through irritated eyes.

“You seem troubled,” King Jango notes as he glances at his wizard.

“I am troubled. The barrier has weakened…a lot.”

“So, something has been trying to come through?” Bly asks, “Your brother perhaps.”

“Oh…most assuredly.”

The wizard scowls at you, “Your brother is a magic user?”

“Uh…no. Not at all.”

“Well, no human could get through that barrier without magic-”

“I’m not entirely sure why you all assume my brother is human…” You say quietly, as you take a half step back, behind Bly. “And he’s here.” You add as you point at the barrier.

There’s a loud thump, and then another one. And then the sound of shattering glass as the magic barrier shatters into pieces, and your brother steps into the garden, “Sister-” He bellows.

Bly shoves you behind him, and draws his blade, and you hear heavy footsteps as ARC Knights start pouring into the garden. “Nemo! Stop!” You shout, “They’re not going to-” You release a startled cry as a large hand shoves Bly to the side, flinging him into a tree, “Bly!”

You stumble back as Nemo looms over you, “Sister…” He rumbles out. Nemo reaches out and grabs your arm with a large hand and he jerks you, painfully, to his side, “You left…” He snarls.

“Nemo…I’m sorry.”

“Not…good…enough…”

His other hand wraps around your neck and shoulder, and tightens to the point where you’re quickly gasping for breath. And then there’s pain, blinding pain, unlike anything you’ve ever felt before.

You’re vaguely aware of the sound of shouting, the men around you trying to rip Nemo off of you…and then the pain flares, and that, paired with the lack of oxygen, causes the world around you to go dark.

*****************

Bly stares as the creature carts his sarad into the Labyrinth. He’s in too much pain to move, or else he would be on his feet, and chasing after them. “Easy, vod. I have you.” His gaze flickers to the medic, who’s kneeling over him, “Your injuries are severe, but you’ll heal.”

His gaze flickers away from his brother, and to the slender arm laying on the ground. That creature, Nemo, he heard you call it, had ripped your arm off, and then tossed it to the side as though it was nothing.

Bly struggles to sit up, gasping as pain flares from his ribs, “You need to lie still, Bly!” The medic snaps.

“He ripped her arm-”

“We’ll find her,” King Jango interrupted, turning his furious gaze on the Court Wizard, “Well?”

“I attached the magic thread to her,” The Wizard replied grimly, “It’ll remain attached to her even if that creature kills her-”

Bly releases a noise at the thought of you dying, and he tries to lurch up into a sitting position, only to get forcefully shoved back to the ground.

The wizard pauses, and then continues, “The thread cannot be broken, cannot be cut, and will connect from the young lady to this very spot until such time that I break the connection.”

“So we can send someone after her.”

“Indeed.” The Wizard nods, “I suggest that we send Prince Bly.”

“He’s injured.”

“He’ll heal,” The Wizard points out, “And he’s going to go after her with or without your permission.”

King Jango is silent for a moment, and then he nods once, curtly, “Fine. Once he’s healed, we’ll send him into the labyrinth.”

***************

How long has it been? You no longer know.

Your head swims and you tremble with pain, and your trembling hand crosses your body to brush against the ragged, and painful, edges where your arm used to be.

You release a silent, shaky, breath.

Your brothe-...no. Not brother, never again brother.

Mnemosyne, the Minotaur, had ripped your arm off as punishment for leaving him.

To his credit, he has been taking care of you. Ensuring that your arm…the remains of your arm…are clean and bandaged. Making sure that you have enough food to not starve. Bringing you fresh water every day.

You’re surprised. You thought, for sure, that the scent of you bleeding would be enough to push him into killing you, but so far, it hasn’t.

You drop your hand onto your lap, the clothes that Bly gave you were stiff with dried blood…Mnemosyne hasn’t bothered to try and replace them, and you wonder if that’s because it’ll be easy for him to track you if you try to run.

Probably.

You wouldn’t have been so harsh in your appraisal of Nemo…but Nemo died the moment he ripped your arm from your body. And no amount of Mnemosyne’s kindness will help you see him as Nemo ever again.

Your gaze drifts to your wrist, specifically the golden thread that connects you with…something. Mnemosyne doesn’t seem to be able to notice it, and has walked through it multiple times since he returned you to the den.

Maybe…maybe if you follow the thread…?

Slowly, painfully, you push to your feet and walk across the den to where the door to the den is. You push the door open and step into the hallway, your eyes easily picking out the glowing thread in the dark halls.

And so…you start walking.

You feel bad. You’re in pain, and you’re too hot and too cold and the world swims around you. That’s probably bad, you remember reading something, once, about infections and fevers…but it’s too hard to think right now.

So you focus on putting one foot in front of the other, and you follow the thread.

Before you really realize it, you’re moving slower and slower, and then you slump against the wall and slide to the floor. Mnemosyne is going to find you…and this time he’ll probably kill you.

It’s a shame, really, Bly was going to teach you how to dance. You had been looking forward to it.

The next thing you’re aware of is hands against your face. You blink slowly once. And then again as the world remained out of focus.

“...Bly?” You whisper as the world finally comes into focus, and you see a familiar face.

He heaves a sigh of relief, “Oh, thank the stars. I thought you were…” Bly shakes his head, “Never mind. You were unconscious, sarad.”

“Was I?” You ask quietly.

“You were.” His hands are warm, even though the gloves he is wearing, “Sarad, what were you doing?”

“Was following the thread,” You mumble.

“Good girl,” He breathes out, and you blink up at him, “That thread would have led you right back to Mandalore.” He looks you over, and then frowns, “Let’s get you out of these clothes, and I have some stuff for your arm.”

“Oh. Alright,” You allow him to help you to your feet, and you’re barely able to keep standing as he quickly strips the blood soaked clothes from your bruised body, and replaces them with a clean tunic and pants.

You’re vaguely aware of him unwrapping your arm and placing some sort of ointment and then clean bandages on it, but it’s a hazy awareness. You blink at him, hazily, and he gently cups your face, “You still with me, sarad?”

“I…maybe?”

“That’s alright.” His voice sounds like it’s coming from underwater, “I’m going to take care of you, sarad. I promise.” One of his hands slides into your hair, and he gently tugs your head so it’s resting against his chest plate. You shakily wrap your arm around him, and you feel his lips against the top of your head.

“How are…” You grimace, the words fleeing your mind before you can say them, “Mnemosyne?”

Bly pauses, “We’re going to collapse the labyrinth.” He says softly, “There are dozens of my brothers setting explosives throughout the labyrinth as we speak. I just need to get you out.”

“...oh.”

“Are you okay with that?” Bly asks.

You pull your head away from his chest, and look up at him. Slowly you nod, “I think I am.” You whisper.

He smiles at you, warm and gentle, “I’m sorry that we have to kill your brother.”

“...he’s not my brother. Not anymore.” You whisper.

Bly nods and kisses your forehead, feather light, “Come on, sarad. Let’s get you out of here.” He takes your hand and starts leading you back the way you came.

You do your best to keep up, but you’re not surprised at all when he has to switch to carrying you.

You cringe as the sound of a furious bellow fills the labyrinth. All you can do is press your face against Bly’s neck as he follows the golden thread. You lift your head slightly when you hear the sound of lots of men in armor running.

ARC knights, all of them following a different color thread, are heading in the same direction as you and Bly. And before you realize it, you’re back in the garden of Mandalore.

Bly hands you over to the medics, who immediately sit you on a gurney and start fussing over you.

You float somewhere between conscious and unconscious, though you do jolt to awareness at the sound of a massive explosion. You’re not able to do much of anything though, as one of the medics injects something into your arm, and you swiftly drift off to sleep.

The next time you wake up, you’re laying in a soft bed. You’re covered in healing bacta, you can tell because of the smell, and you’re no longer in pain.

You turn your head to the side, and you smile when you see Bly sitting there. He’s absently twirling a hunting knife between his fingers, his gaze locked on your face.

“Sarad!” The knife slides back into a sheath on his thigh as Bly leans in to take your hand, “You’re awake.” He sounds relieved.

“Bly…how long have I-?”

“It’s been three days, you had an infection.” Bly explains, as he folds his hands around yours, “You’re going to have to stay here for a while longer, while they make sure the infection is gone. It…it was pretty hit or miss there, for a while.”

“Sorry.” You whisper.

“Not your fault, baby.” He replies, as he brushes some of your hair off of your face, leaving his hand pressed warmly against your cheek, “How are you feeling?”

You close your eyes and lean into his touch, “Mm…I’m not in pain. So I'm just tired, I guess.”

“That’s good. Great, even.” Bly says with a sigh as his fingers begin lightly tracing your features, “Do you want an update on the Labyrinth?”

“Yes please.”

“So the entrance in the garden was completely destroyed,” Bly says after a moment, “But we found another opening just outside the city. As of right now it’s under 24 hour guard, and there are magic drones mapping out the landscape, and trying to determine if Mnemosyne survived.”

“And if he did?” You ask, softly.

“We’ll cross that bridge only if we have to.” Bly insists, “And it won’t be your job.”

“Oh, alright.” You swallow hard, “So what happens now?”

“Now you rest and recover, and then we’re opening an investigation into your parents. They have a lot to answer for, not just for sealing you away, but also for Mnemosyne.” Bly replies, his thumb lightly caresses your cheek, “And, when you’re healed, I’m finally going to teach you how to dance.”

You laugh softly, and favor him with a small smile, “It’s a date then.”

Bly’s face brightens, “The first of many, I hope.”

“We’ll just have to see, won’t we.” You tease lightly.

He stands and kisses your forehead, “You’ll see, angel. I’ll be the best boyfriend.” Bly kisses your forehead again, “But I’ll let you rest-”

You close your hand around his, “Stay?”

And he grins, “For as long as you’ll have me.”

#star wars #tcw #commander bly x reader #bly x reader #magic and knights au #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #star wars AU

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