#He would totally attempt to take at least one bite

[oceanicwriting]

black book.

summary: falling in love with lorenzo berkshire was totally forbidden, but... what kind of story would your life be if you don't end up madly in love with him? although there is much more hidden under his sexual practices that end up releasing a part of you that he had never seen.

pairing(s): lorenzo berkshire x fem!reader

a/n: this ended up being so long that i didn't check it twice... sorry if there are errors, at some point i will give it another go, promise. btw, this was inspired by a tiktok i saw two days ago about this black book thing. hope you like it!

+18 smut (a little), oral sex/sit on my face (f!receiving), masturbation (f!receiving), fingering, teasing, mention and use of drugs, smoking, fuck buddies, cursing

ㅤㅤㅤ every woman knew, from the first moment they accept lorenzo berkshire between their legs, that everything that will happen would be strictly sexual and no more than one night. many had tried to change that, but he was a man of his word. at least he was with all the other girls who have been under his domain because you were too special for that. how could he even think about forgetting the best sex he had ever had in a closet in the hallways?

ㅤㅤㅤ since then, you've met more times than you can count, under the strict law of not crossing the romantic. at first, a little biased by the disgusting rumors about him, you thought it was a safe plan. and it was... for a while. when he started asking you to spend the nights with him, send you surprise notes, talk in the moonlight and all kinds of things, your heart became an incurable weakling.

ㅤㅤㅤ are you in love with lorenzo womanizer berkshire? of course you are.

ㅤㅤㅤ —what do you think of this one? —you look at your friend's dress, who walks around the room, swaying her hips—. i feel like it's not that short...

ㅤㅤㅤ you look at the end of the dress almost certain that if she sit down anywhere her ass would be exposed to the world.

ㅤㅤㅤ —of course, i forgot that the shorter the dress, the faster zabini fucks you, —you mumble with a hint of sarcasm in your voice.ㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤ your friend throws a piece of clothing from the floor, laughing nervously at the comment and insulting you between murmurs.

ㅤㅤㅤ when she turns her attention back to looking for another dress, you let yourself fall on the bed, releasing all the air that you have trapped since last night. in your mind, you had repeated the events over and over again, trying to connect some things but failing miserably in the attempt.

ㅤㅤㅤ —what's wrong with you? every time we go to a snake party, you're jumping on one leg. did something happen with berkshire yesterday?

ㅤㅤㅤ the mere mention of his name sends a chilling wave through your body. you deny it, but your friend knew something had happened. the last few times you hadn't come back from being with him until the next morning, and last night you had come back early, slamming the door in your way in.

ㅤㅤㅤ —liar. —she comes over to sit with you on the bed—. come on, tell me.

ㅤㅤㅤ lorenzo was a boy from another world in bed. he knew perfectly how to use a woman's body to please her desires, taking advantage of the situation to satisfy his own pleasure. he was fully aware of how to squeeze, bite, lick, or caress so that anyone could bend to his charm. and he had bent you in every way, body and soul.

ㅤㅤㅤ —you have to promise not to tell your crush about this —you say, lifting a pinky that your friend wraps around hers in a promise—. i found a black book in lorenzo’s room yesterday. it was a small leather notebook with a silver L on the front. i hadn’t really given it much thought, but he got so weird when he saw it in my hands. he was… tense like never before.

ㅤㅤㅤ —you couldn’t see anything inside?

ㅤㅤㅤ you shake your head and say—: i just wasn’t interested. i thought it was a notebook for class or something, but he got so mad that i doubt it.

ㅤㅤㅤ —that’s weird…

ㅤㅤㅤ your friend doesn’t want you to think about it too much and tries to make you forget about it with drinks straight from the bottle of alcohol she hides under the bed. that was the only fun you had all night because lorenzo disappeared with one of your classmates, and your friend got lost among the crowd.

ㅤㅤㅤ the next day, right after you wake up, your friend walks into the room, looking disheveled. when she notices you're awake, it seems like a memory hits the back of her mind, and her green gaze looks like it's about to explode.

ㅤㅤㅤ you laugh and ask—: what hap...?

ㅤㅤㅤ she shushes you, throwing her bag onto the bed and searching for something amongst the makeup that falls against your messy sheets.

ㅤㅤㅤ —what the...? —in her hands is that black leather book with the shiny silver L sending out sparkles from the morning light reflection—. what did you do?

ㅤㅤㅤ —when blaise and i wanted to find a place to... —she trails off, painting her cheeks red—. you don't need those details, got it. the thing is, we went to the wrong room, and before we left, i saw the book on the desk. no one knows i have it, i swear on my parents.

ㅤㅤㅤ the book has a lot of full pages, losing the neatness of the empty ones at the end. there are entire minutes when you doubt whether to open it, but the curiosity running through your body is inevitable to feel.

ㅤㅤㅤ —so? —your friend asks, forcing you to look up at her—. are you going to open it or not?

ㅤㅤㅤ the first page has black book written in capital letters and lorenzo’s initials just below it. the next page has a small table that takes you two seconds to understand.

ㅤㅤㅤ —what is that?

ㅤㅤㅤ —they look like scores —you say, showing your friend the table.

ㅤㅤㅤ —scores? scores for what?

ㅤㅤㅤ and right below it, there was a list with three points, but the most important one was the one that gets stuck in your mind.

ㅤㅤㅤ —scores for sex.

ㅤㅤㅤ your friend looks at you, noticing the terrible mistake she made by bringing the book to you. she tries to take it from your hands, but you don't let her, and you start to slowly turn the pages. there were names of classmates, girls who have talked to you once, girls you don't know, and others girls you could remember in the back of your mind. and there was your name crossed out, but still visible with a five next to it. in that book, you were either a regular muggle or the worst of them all.

ㅤㅤㅤ —this was a terrible idea —your friend says, finally taking the book from you—. a horrible idea.

ㅤㅤㅤ but you can't speak because your heart has tightened so much that it leaves you breathless and unruly tears fall down your eyes. all you can think about is how pathetic you must look, crying over a man who made it clear from the first moment that you shouldn't fall in love.

ㅤㅤㅤ it had been a week since you discovered lorenzo's big secret. you could have chosen many paths to destroy him, but you made the cowardly decision to avoid him at all costs. he had tried to communicate with you through notes, appearing in the bedroom at any time of the day or chasing you through the halls. and yet, you didn't feel like facing him.

ㅤㅤㅤ when the night came, you always had the three same questions. hadn't he searched your body more than once? did you hear wrong when he repeated between grunts that you were doing perfectly? ​​why did he cum so fast when you wrapped your mouth around his cock? it was strange and disgusting that, after seeing all those names, your concern was centered on the small detail of a score.

ㅤㅤㅤ now you were sitting between a couple of people at a party that your friend had insisted you should be at. you felt calm, comfortable, and were having a great time. until the fun in your eyes fades when, walking through the door with a triumphant air, he appears. lorenzo berkshire would be your downfall for a long time, and you knew it very well.

ㅤㅤㅤ —hey, no. —you hear your friend's voice behind you, but your body is on autopilot, designed to escape—. enough of running away, okay? the girl i've known since i was ten never runs from jerks because she wears that skirt well and makes them suffer.

ㅤㅤㅤ you look at her, then at the crowd. if lorenzo was any other selfless boy, you would have taken revenge as you well know, but he was not that. he had removed any sanity within your loving heart, and you were not sure about playing with something as fragile as that.

ㅤㅤㅤ —no. i...

ㅤㅤㅤ —no, you do —your friend says, pulling your arm to get onto the improvised dance floor with a big smile—. you and i are going to have the best night of our lives.

ㅤㅤㅤ you drink alcohol, dance among people, smoke marijuana, and laugh with faces you can’t remember. you were having such a good time that you can only now sit down laughing out loud at a joke your friend had told.

ㅤㅤㅤ —oh, let me get more alcohol —she says, losing her balance as she gets up from her chair—. oops.

ㅤㅤㅤ you follow his figure from your seat, and there he is. lorenzo is dancing close to a girl in the middle of the crowd. just seeing him ignites a wave of rage that feeds off of all the toxins you’ve taken up until that point. and you think in the midst of lucidity that maybe you could do your thing to make him angry... just a little.

ㅤㅤㅤ you look for some boy who can get your attention so you don't feel repulsed by his touch and you find him. in a corner, smoking a joint on his own, is a boy with fine features. it was the perfect moment, perfect man and perfect opportunity.

ㅤㅤㅤ when you get up, walking among the people, you purposely bump into the body of the girl who clings to lorenzo's shoulders. you apologize with a soft smile that doesn't fade from your face when you feel the boy's eyes linger on your figure contouring as you walk.

ㅤㅤㅤ when you arrive with your prey, you greet him with a more seductive voice than you expected, but it has the effect you wanted. it doesn't take you any time to have the boy in the palm of your hand, between jokes and white lies, you manage to have his fingers on your legs with a delicacy that could melt you.

ㅤㅤㅤ —do you want to go somewhere else? —it's the voice of the boy sitting next to you, speaking close to your ear. you look at the crowd in search of lorenzo, but you can't find him—. i don't think i can hold back the urge to touch you under that dress anymore.

ㅤㅤㅤ you laugh and, the truth is, you didn't dislike the idea of ​​rolling around with this cute stranger either. of course, if he wasn't violently attacked by lorenzo's friends, starting a fight that no one can stop. it's impressive how screams, pushes, or swear words take center stage so quickly.

ㅤㅤㅤ —walk. —even though it's just one word, you know exactly who that voice is, pulling you towards the bedroom stairs.

ㅤㅤㅤ lorenzo's quick steps blur your vision, but you try to stay awake with the soft scent of his cologne hitting your nose. when you reach your room, you can't help but sit up in bed, trying to catch your breath and clear your mind to become aware of what will happen now.

ㅤㅤㅤ when you can lift your head, lorenzo is standing right in front of you. he has his arms crossed on his chest, dark gaze, and waits for you to start some kind of conversation. a wave of heat hits every part of your body, uneasy from the gesture of his tongue pushing the inside of his cheek. oh, he was so angry.

ㅤㅤㅤ —what? —you ask, getting up from the bed, trying to avoid him noticing the stumble you've made in your own steps.

ㅤㅤㅤ —aren't you going to say anything?

ㅤㅤㅤ you turn to see him, pretending not to understand with a small gesture of confusion, managing to feed his anger as you wanted.

ㅤㅤㅤ —you ignore me all fucking week and now you let someone else fuck you in front of everyone. —he lets out a cynical laugh and claps angrily—. oh! surprise, despite everything, the lady has nothing to say.

ㅤㅤㅤ you try not to laugh at how funny his voice sounds in your head.

ㅤㅤㅤ —my problem if i want to fuck someone in front of everyone. why do you care, lorenzo? and he was just touching a little. tasting...

ㅤㅤㅤ you hear him, his four strong footsteps that shorten the distance with you. it's the scent of her perfume that you catch first, turning on some parts of your body. you can't deny that his demanding gaze also wreaks havoc on your stomach, and memories of all the times you've been together play through your head at an imperceptible speed.

ㅤㅤㅤ —we're not exclusive, remember?

ㅤㅤㅤ you expected those words to hurt him, but it seems they only manage to sink the thorn into your own heart, causing a pain that hasn't been felt so intense for a week. all because of that stupid black book.

ㅤㅤㅤ —and, after all, i'm nothing more than a muggle worth five points. —and it seems that hurts him, because he steps back, destabilized and obfuscated—. how long do you think it was going to take me to discover it? maybe you're used to taking them to your room once or never, but i've been to that fucking place, i don't know... fifty times?

ㅤㅤㅤ —how did you know?

ㅤㅤㅤ —that doesn't matter. do you know how disgusting i felt after knowing that? rating girls for their performance in bed? are you sixteen fucking years old?!

ㅤㅤㅤ lorenzo grabs your arm tightly, pushing you against the bed and preventing any movement with the weight of his body on top. your breathing hits at the movement, feeling dizzy again.

ㅤㅤㅤ —listen, it's not what you think.

ㅤㅤㅤ his voice, so clear and firm, different from the blurry image of that moment. it's hilarious that he wants to keep thinking you're stupid, as if you were exactly what his book says.

ㅤㅤㅤ —are you telling me that i lack reading comprehension? honestly, lorenzo, i'm impressed by how much you underestimate me and... —the laugh that had been stuck leaves your lips like music to the boy's ears—. you know what? fuck it.

ㅤㅤㅤ the leg that was trapped between his rises, giving a sharp blow against his crotch. your hands push his chest, turning in the bed to straddle him.

ㅤㅤㅤ —a five, enzo? —he looks at you, breathing heavily from the wave of torment affecting his body—. weren't you the one who was going after my body? did i hear wrong when you told me that i was doing it just the way you want? why did you seem to enjoy it when i'm a fucking five?

ㅤㅤㅤ yes, it was unpleasant to put scores, but in your chest was a much bigger pain. you like lorenzo. you are madly in love with him and that clouds every other sense in your head. you wanted to be a twenty, fifty or top score for him. you wanted to be enough. you wanted to be the only woman in his power. you wanted to change the immovable.

ㅤㅤㅤ —beautiful... —his hand tries to touch your cheek decorated with small tears.

ㅤㅤㅤ your body reacts by instinct, hitting his arm to press it against the bed, avoiding any touch that could make you lose the courage you have accumulated.

ㅤㅤㅤ —why, lorenzo?

ㅤㅤㅤ if there was something he hated was seeing sad tears running down your face, being enough to say—: i'm not the only one with a book like that. we compare scores, bet on it, and all kinds of things. i just... i didn't want them to know.

ㅤㅤㅤ you look at him, noticing the honesty in his eyes.

ㅤㅤㅤ —you didn't want them to know what?

ㅤㅤㅤ he smirks, looking at your body with lust. every curve, every place that only he knew, every trace of his marks that have disappeared, and every area that he could touch to make you roll in pleasure. lorenzo knew every little detail of your body with such precision that it was inevitable for him not to imagine you naked.

ㅤㅤㅤ —how amazing you are in bed.

ㅤㅤㅤ and you could blame many things for the events that happen after that. you'd say it was his deep voice that scratched your insides, messy hair that falls on the duvet or disheveled clothes. some might believe when you blame the alcohol, but there was someone in the whole world who would always know the truth. you.

ㅤㅤㅤ lorenzo buries his hands in your hips, pushing you against his body to grab your lips with a delicious habit. the taste of alcohol in his mouth is the same as yours, intense and hot. your hips move with the help of his hands that squeeze just the way you like. you let him dominate the situation of that kiss until a fleeting memory comes back to your head.

ㅤㅤㅤ —i want you to use your mouth —you murmur against his lips—. i want you to use it so you can't use it on anyone else.

ㅤㅤㅤ lorenzo looks at you, trying to turn on the bed to do what you ask. the problem is that your body tenses at the intention, and he looks at you with confusion.

ㅤㅤㅤ —not like that.

ㅤㅤㅤ you pull your panties off to stop your pussy right in front of his face. the simple breath of lorenzo hitting your folds makes you shudder, but you know he has to suffer like never before. so, when he makes the gesture of getting closer to your wetness, your fingers tangle in his hair, pressing his head against the bed.

ㅤㅤㅤ —i want to hear that you want it. i want you to beg.

ㅤㅤㅤ it was always lorenzo who dominated in the relationship. you enjoyed it that way, but today, there was a rage inside you that was as uncontrollable as the wave of ecstasy that runs through your body when you talk to him that way. you wanted to make him feel so small that he would be the one to beg to come back this time.

ㅤㅤㅤ you look at him, part of his face covered by the black skirt and gaze lit up in flames. the hot, heavy air crashing against you was perfect, sending desperate signals to your eager and needy body.

ㅤㅤㅤ —let me devour you. i want to lick and suck until i can't take it anymore. please, just, please...

ㅤㅤㅤ and your pussy presses against his lips, holding part of your weight with the headboard of the bed and legs. lorenzo doesn't take long to do what he had asked, stimulating your clitoris with the tip of his expert tongue. you moan at the tickling sensations that travel from there, moving your hips gently against him.

ㅤㅤㅤ lorenzo kisses, sucks, and licks as best he can against the weight of your body on top of him, raising his eyes over your skirt to watch you arch your back every time his tongue gets close to your entrance. his hands move up to your breasts, where one stops to squeeze over your shirt and the other continues its way to your mouth.

ㅤㅤㅤ —do you wanna s-see how i do it? —you say, looking down at him and sticking your tongue out to lick his fingers—. i always imagine it’s your cock.

ㅤㅤㅤ his fingers sink into your mouth so deeply that it’s impossible not to gasp. your tongue licks, curling and tasting the length of his long digits. when lorenzo is satisfied with that, he moves his hand from your back to your entrance.

ㅤㅤㅤ —w-wait, j-just wait a little —you say between soft moans—. i need you to go down a little.

ㅤㅤㅤ lorenzo does so, making you shiver from the new sensation that builds up in that perfect area. then, you feel his fingers digging in in the perfect direction to touch a spot that activates thousands of waves of pleasure.

ㅤㅤㅤ his fingers going in and out quickly, while his mouth continues to stimulate you, was enough to make your legs feel weak. the accumulation of emotions that are trying to be released with moans explodes in an electric current that travels from head to toe, cutting off the air that enters your lungs, making you scream and fall against lorenzo's face pressed against your thighs.

ㅤㅤㅤ he grabs your ass and manages to turn with his head still buried between them. you can feel the tip of his tongue wander over your sensitive areas again. suffer, suffer and suffer.

ㅤㅤㅤ —stop. —one of your feet pushes his shoulder, making him look at you confused—. will you burn that book?

ㅤㅤㅤ your hands play with your shirt, lowering the neckline to free your breasts in front of him. lorenzo's gaze darkens, and he follows your hand to the inside of your thighs.

ㅤㅤㅤ —beautiful...

ㅤㅤㅤ lorenzo licks his lips, feeling his cock tremble in the desire to bury itself so hard and deep inside you.

ㅤㅤㅤ —would you do it to feel how my tight pussy takes you? would you do it so you could enter me whenever and however you want?

ㅤㅤㅤ a wave of pleasure runs through your body at the sensation of your own fingers touching the places that make you moan in front of him. lorenzo was slowly losing his sanity, and you could see it in his eyes.

ㅤㅤㅤ —yes, i will. i'll do whatever you want with that book —he says, his voice dragging out the words because of the rush with which he says them—. i will.

ㅤㅤㅤ and from one moment to the next, even if you're not sure how, you're out of bed with lorenzo staring at you as hard as the bulge in his pants about to explode. you don't let that weaken you, adjusting your clothes in seconds.

ㅤㅤㅤ —good. perfect, really. —he follows your body to the door with the bad mood sprouting from every pore of his skin—. then we can finish this when you do it right in front of my eyes.

ㅤㅤㅤ —what?

ㅤㅤㅤ —what you heard —you say, sliding a soft smile on your lips—. when i see that ridiculous book in pieces, you can finish what we started. now, get out of my fucking room and close the door on your way out.

ㅤㅤㅤ your body disappears behind the bathroom door, where you hear him call your name angrily, and he leaves the room shortly after. if he hadn't given up, you were sure you would have, so you're thankful he did it first.

ㅤㅤㅤ the surprise is that lorenzo came back minutes later with the book in one hand and his wand in the other, turning the book on fire right in front of your eyes to turn you into a rag of moans, licks, thrusts and marks. not many things could change about this relationship now, but you know that lorenzo might be a little more in love with you than it seems.

[maxbruiser]

Hi there, I really like your art and comic. Your art is so good i could just eat it (If you couldn't tell by my username). This is my Oc Scout, his design is based off of the Leafy Seadragon. I think your characters are super cute, and how clean your art style is. Anyways, I hope you continue making your comic :D.

awww Scout is so cute! 🥰 and thank you for your compliments!

[taintedcigs]

˚ · • . ° . 𝐑𝐄𝐃, 𝐒𝐎𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐄𝐓.

summary: you and your boyfriend eddie decide to have some fun in the living room, what you fail to notice is that your boyfriends roommate steve is also awake. and he can’t help himself.

warnings: smut smut smut, minors DNI, p in v, creampie, unprotected (wrap it up irl im so serious), kinda pervy!steve, msturbation, degrading, praises, kind of a choking kink if u squint, VERY LIGHT dom/sub dynamics (like very very light), dom!eddie, sub!reader.

pairings: boyfriend!eddie munson x reader x roommate!steve harrington

author’s note: i just love steddie. if you see me repost this a few times no u didn't. not proof-read. ignore mistakes!!

Steve wasn't a morning person.

So it was no surprise when he tossed in the bed, groaning and whining at the noise coming outside of his room.

His pillow was smushed against his ears, attempting to cancel out the noise.

“F—fuck, s—shit, angel, take it, mmpf.” He barely had one eye open, and couldn't make up most of the dialogue, so he tried to make sense of the noise coming from the living room. 

He removed the pillow from his ear, face scrunched in annoyance as he listened in.

Grunts, whines, and the slapping of skin mixed together, with Steve’s hazed state, he could barely make sense of it. But once he heard your pretty whines his eyes shot open. 

Holy fucking shit. The two of you weren’t doing what he thought you were… Were you?

He sat up quickly, hand rubbing his eyes before he carefully situated himself on the bed to look through the gap where his door had opened slightly. 

“Fuuuuck, just like that, princess, take my cock, mhmm.” Another grunt from Eddie, his skin slapping into yours, head thrown back, his hold on your waist bruisingly rough. Or at least that’s what Steve imagined, hearing Eddie’s raspy voice mixed with your silenced grunts was enough to fuel his morning wood harder than imaginable. 

He was aching already, his cock painfully caged in his boxers, he shouldn’t, he shouldn’t take a peek. He should just attempt to go to sleep again, he should give the two of you privacy. 

But, fuck, was it tempting. 

This is all he ever wanted, he knew how perverted that sounded, but this was his chance. 

The walls in the apartment were thin, so fucking thin that he would hear your mewls every night, and Eddie’s dirty talk. He would never admit to how many times he got off to the sound of the two of you going at it. It was embarrassing, outright disgusting, and he felt ashamed. 

A crimson red and disgust colored his cheeks the second he came all over his hand, sticky, always so much that it spurted all over his chest. But, god, did it feel so fucking good. 

He didn’t know what it was that drew him in this much, Eddie’s dominance, your pathetic whines, him degrading you while you begged for more, it was all of it. And he was begging to get a glimpse of it, a little taste.

“Yeah, baby, you like that don’t you?” More sounds coming from the two of you, Eddie’s cocky tone enough to have Steve feel himself against his boxers. 

He was hard, so achingly hard that he hissed, and his other hand immediately clamped down on his mouth to shut himself up, the skin slapping and the cursing didn’t falter a bit. 

He could totally get away with this. 

And he was about to burst in his pants, a little peek, wouldn’t hurt, would it? Jesus Christ, he knew it was wrong, but this was the perfect opportunity, he finally could see your fucked out face, Eddie’s cocky grins, he needed this. He deserved this.

Steve shifted quietly in his bed, concealing himself but still getting a good look at the two of you, his cock was needy, weeping, and he needed to give it attention soon. Just the look in your eyes, the way Eddie was all the way into you made him bite his lip to conceal the groans that slipped past his parted lips. 

“Ssshh, baby, I know, I know, but you gotta quiet down a little, yea?” Eddie cooed against your face, biting and nibbling a trail from your chin to your neck, a grin sitting on his lips. 

Fuck, Steve wished he could do that, have you sprawled on him on the couch, bare pussy on sight while he fucked himself into you, legs wrapped around him, while he left marks on your neck, truly owning you, like Eddie did.

Eddie squished your cheeks to quiet you down, his cock still hitting spots inside of your walls that you didn’t know existed, and you were quick to pout. “You don’t want our little roommate to wake up and see you like this, do you?”

Steve’s ears perked at that, bubblegum pink all over his cheeks, but it only encouraged him more and more, his cock engorged with blood and the need to fuck his hands was all he could think about. 

The two of you were talking about him, and he was more than intrigued. Slowly but surely, Steve pushed his boxers down his thighs, hissing quietly when his heavy erection bobbed out, plopping against his v-line, tip hot and angry, waiting to be attended. 

Eddie had you split in half, or at least that’s what it looked like to Steve, “Whinin’ like a bitch in heat, soakin’ my cock and still beggin’ for more.” Eddie grunted, Steve watched in awe, how hungrily you looked at Eddie, those doe-eyes looking so innocent yet you were anything but. Eddie was sliding in and out of your walls, harsh, quick, and making sure you could feel him fully. 

Steve bit his lip to hide the groan that dared the slip past his mouth, cock hot and pulsating in his hands, he spat on it with a shuddered breath, wishing that instead of his hands he could push his veiny cock into every single one of your holes. Drawing out those pleas and whines from you like Eddie did. 

Eddie’s cocky, domineering words also got him going, he didn’t know what was taking over him; he needed you under him, whining and begging for him, but he also wanted Eddie to dominate him as well, a fucked up dynamic that he would die to be a part of. You, submitting to both of them, while Eddie dominated both of you. And Steve in the middle, it would be perfect. 

Eddie’s hands were bruisingly all over you, cock pounding into you with such force that Steve watched open-mouthed, wishing he could get a taste of you, wishing he could feel the way your tight cunt took him in.

“Oh, shit, you’d like that, baby wouldn’t you? Such a little slut, you’d want Harrington to see you all pathetic like this?” Eddie grinned, mocking you further and further, causing you to mewl at him pathetically.

Steve smeared his spit all over his cock, using it as a lubricant while he desperately wrapped his palm around it, ungodly sounds escaping his lips, not able to help himself when the two of you started talking about him.

His sickly desires coming to life in the best fucking way possible.

“You’d want Steve to see you bein’ my personal cocksleeve?” Heat rushed to your cheeks quickly, face feeling hot both from desire and how filthy Eddie was being, and he knew you loved it. 

You shook your head shyly, gaze still on him with a pout. “Nuh—uh, don’t lie, baby, I know you like an audience.” Steve tugged at his cock feverishly, knuckles turning white with how much desire ran in his veins, his mouth hung open both from the pleasure and the words being uttered, would the two of you be into this as well?

God, he wanted nothing more than to have you underneath him as Eddie did, he wanted to get a taste of you, he wanted to feel your pussy squeezing him because he knew that’s what Eddie always blabbed about through those thin walls, how tight you were and how warm you felt.

Steve shouldn’t have listened, he shouldn’t have jerked off to his roommate having sex with his girlfriend, but fucking Christ the two of you were so hot.

How was he supposed to help himself?

“Would you want him to take a turn with you?” Steve’s ears perked, and his desperate tugs at his cock almost halted, he sat up a bit straighter, hand still rubbing his aching cock but eyes searching for you, searching for that approval.

You nodded shyly, a grin appearing on Eddie’s face  “Mhmm, I know you would, such a fuckin’ slut aren’t ya?” Steve’s guttural groans were concealed by the harsh skin-on-skin provided by the two of you, Eddie’s loud rambling, and his even louder grunts.

Steve perfectly red in the face, fucked his fist harder, trying so hard not to finish himself off this early, but the desire pooling in his tummy was nearing.

That shy little nod, Eddie’s wicked grin, fuck, he was going to keep this memory in his brain forever. 

“Love you, pretty girl,” Eddie hummed, sloppy kisses peppered all over your perky tits, mouth latching onto one of your nipples, sucking, nibbling while his fingers drew small circles around your breasts, igniting more pleasure.

Overstimulating you in every way possible, and Steve watched with an open mouth.

Both of you could not resist the grunts that left their lips, your frail body becoming mushy at all of the sensations, looking pretty as ever. 

“You look s’perfect like this, honey, did you know that? Mhmm, this cunt made just for me, huh?” Eddie cooed, and Steve’s strokes against his dick were more sensual now, it’s like he wanted to feel you too.

You sank into the couch further every time he thrust himself into you, praises making your eyes roll all the way back to your head. 

“Takin’ it so well, sweetheart, look at all the sweet noises your pretty pussy makes when I’m fuckin’ you raw, huh? God I love it when you get all dumb like this on my cock, princess.” he praised. 

“Being the prettiest, good girl f’me, thinkin’ about nothing but my cock, perfect little fucktoy,” He groaned, voice getting coarse with need. Those chocolate hues you loved about Eddie were long gone now, replaced by something more sinister, fueled purely by hunger, and it made your nails dig deeper into his back, making him hiss.

“Ed—Eds…” Steve wanted to worship you, all of his thoughts being stripped away because of how fucked out you looked. Candy gloss smeared all over your needy lips, hair disheveled, eyes barely open, and spread out for Eddie like the good girl you were. 

“Yeah, honey? What d’ya need?” Tone saccharine sweet, his hand landed on your cheeks, smushing them together, making it harder for you to register anything, he was making you feel so hot, so much… And you couldn’t bear to talk.

“N—need to, uh—” Words died down your throat when he shoved himself deeper, hitting that sweet, sweet spot that made you go all dumb on him, just like he loved. 

“You wanna cum, doll? Huh? Can’t handle it anymore? Thought you were my tough girl?” He mocked with an ‘Aww’ sound, jutting out his bottom lip, making you nod vigorously. 

“I—I’m your good girl, sir,” you muttered. Steve was trying so hard not to tug at his poor cock harder, not to go completely feral because he so wanted to last. He wanted to hear the pretty whines that left your lips, the guttural groans that consumed Eddie. 

His hands landed on your clit now, he could feel your pussy nuzzling him, could feel that familiar feeling pooling in your tummy, and he wanted to get you into that space, where you could barely talk, where you whined and trashed for him to let you cum. “B—but ‘s t—too much, need to—” You whined, struggling.

Eddie breathed out a throaty chuckle, drawing circles around your sensitive spots to earn those breathy huffs from you. “Can barely speak, such a good fuckin’ cockslut for me, aren’t ya?” He mocked, all mean and filthy.  

“And, all fuckin’ mine,” He grunted, he wasn’t forgiving, and neither was his cock, slipping out of you entirely to drive you crazy. Dark chuckles left his lips when he enjoyed your little whines, that deeper dig your nails had on his back with anger.

Steve’s lips wrapped around his knuckles, biting on them to conceal the lewd noises daring to slip out. 

Eddie’s huge length, slightly bent to the left, facing upwards was slicked in both of your juices. Steve wanted nothing more than to have his tongue lapping up at him, taste both of you.

“Speak up, slut, what do you want, you wanna cum, huh?” Vicious, and bold, his hand had a hold on your throat now, harsh enough to draw both pain and pleasure out of you, making you cry out at the emptiness.

“S—so mean,” you murmured, you loved every fucking second of it. But his teasing was driving you crazy, and you so badly needed that sweet release, and to feel his warm load filling your hole.

He pouted at your words, releasing your throat as his palm stroked your cheeks, he knew you enjoyed his mean side, but he still couldn’t resist your pretty face and that addictingly gentle tone. 

You always knew how to break him, and to get him to do what you wanted. Which was to get completely fucked.

With a sticky sweet and delicate kiss on your lips, he was quick to thrust back into you. “‘M s—sorry, sweetheart, ‘m sorry but you’re just so pretty like this, can’t help it,” he breathed against your neck, his movements getting sloppier when your moans became more pathetic and needy, he wasn’t going to last if you came.

And it was okay because Steve was dying for a release, both knuckles white, one from tugging, the other from biting into it to stifle his loudness.

“Don’t worry, honey, you can cum for me,” He cooed, lips pressed into the shell of your ear, kissing a trail down to your cheekbones.

“S—shit, fuckin’ shit, sweetheart cum for me and I’ll give you what you need,” He fucked himself deeper, slower into you.

Steve’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, blurry vision only able to focus on the two of you.

“You want my cum don’t you, baby? Want me to fill you up?” You were gone, back arched with pleasure, trying to get more from him if that was even possible.

“P—please, Eds, need you to mark me, make me yours, all over again,” you moaned, craving him, feeling that tight coil in your tummy getting tighter and tighter. 

“A—ahh, shit—shit, sweet girl, when you talk like that you know you’re gonna be the death of me,” He grunted, his own voice failing him when he was all lost in you. 

“Need your cum, Eds, p—please, cum with me baby,” you begged, body frail beneath him, soft, mushy, and all ready.

“Shit, f—fuck, so fuckin’ tight when you cum, sweetheart, I don’t think I can—” His rambling got louder and louder, not caring if Steve could hear—hell Eddie wanted him to see this. See the way you were getting split open by Eddie, begging, while Steve fucked himself to the two of you, all so desperate, waiting for Eddie’s instructions. 

A newfound desire found Eddie at the thought of both you and Steve being so submissive to him, letting him take all of the control. “Fuckin’ fuck! Jesus—mmpf,” he grunted.

Steve was desperate now—as much as he was ashamed of it, he had jerked off to the two of you so many times before, he knew from the noises, that the two of you were close.

And he was more than ready to finally see your pretty face and Eddie’s mouth hung open when both of you came, his fantasies coming true. 

He fucked his fists harder, balls drawing up at the needy moans that slipped past your lips. “G—gonna fuck all of my load—fuck—into you, princess.” One final thrust rutted deep inside of you, filling you to the brim. 

“Fuuuck, fuck fuck!” He yelled out, and that’s all it took, both of your eyes squeezed shut, melting into the couch, loud moans and groans filling the room while Steve watched with lulled eyes.

Your orgasm was quick to wash over your body, pussy convulsing around his cock deliciously, ropes of his warm cum spilling inside of you. All the while Steve squeezed his cock, spurting his cum all over his hand, white beads of his warm load covering his knuckles. 

Heavy breathing filled the living room, and Steve’s room. His mind hazed, and eyes remained shut. 

“Shitshitshit, take it, baby, take it all,” Eddie breathed out, his load sitting pretty inside of you, filling you nicely.

“Good girl,” he whispered, planting a nice kiss on your glossy lips, peppering your face with small ones, a wide grin sitting on his lips.

“Fuck,” Steve grunted out unintentionally, hand planting on his mouth with a loud smack, but it was too late. 

Eddie’s head snapped backward, a grin sitting on his lips before his dangerous gaze met Steve’s dilated pupils, blown out by pleasure, and the anxiety in his system slicking his forehead. 

“Did you enjoy that, Steve?” Eddie mocked from where he was standing, not moving an inch, eyeing the shocked look on his face, fully enjoying it. 

Steve, at a loss for words, couldn’t even blabber a simple response. How the fuck was he going to explain this? 

Eddie barked a mocking chuckle, pouting. “Your poor cock must be aching from those calloused hands, abusin’ it every night. You think we didn’t hear your pathetic groans every night? The walls are thin, Stevie,” he cooed, his tone so teasing that Steve gulped. 

What the fuck was going to happen now? 

Would Eddie beat him up for being a fucking pervert? 

Would the two of you move out as soon as possible? 

Endless possibilities ran through Steve’s mind, yet he couldn’t muster a single reply, cursing himself for even fucking doing this. 

Yet, much to Steve’s surprise, Eddie’s reply was his wildest dreams and fantasies bundled up into a full sentence. “Oh, don’t be shy now, Stevie, come out, let us help you.” You hummed quietly agreeing with Eddie, too fucked out to say anything else, yet still up for more. 

Without another word Steve got up, unashamedly walking into the living room with his junk out, hand still covered in his cum, Eddie’s gaze and grin were much more devilish up close, making Steve’s cock stir against the cold air hitting his tip. 

You were quick to sit up on your knees, dragging Steve closer to you, hand gently holding up his semen-covered knuckle, giggling at the sight before your gaze met his. 

The blood rushed to his cock in an instant, your doe-eyes still held that innocence, yet there was something filthy about it that had Steve wanting to melt into a puddle. You stuck out your tongue at him, mouth quick to wrap around his knuckles, lapping up his juices. 

Your gaze stuck on him, and Steve’s thighs shuddered with need, eyes drinking you in while you wiped him clean and released his hand with a pop sound of your velvety lips. 

A lewd noise escaped from Steve’s mouth, making him grow weak in his knees, still unable to find the words to speak. You were perfect. Just perfect. 

“Stevie tastes so good, Eds,” you hummed sweetly, gaze never leaving Steve’s, and Eddie watched the two of you with newfound hunger. 

“Do you want us to help you, Stevie?” You asked with a pout, plushy lips slickening with your candy gloss, and now with both Steve and Eddie’s juices. Steve nodded vigorously, head about to fall off his neck, gulping and almost groaning at you. 

Steve wasn’t a morning person, until now. 

[moonstruckme]

roomate jamess 😭😭😭💓💓🤍😭😭💓

I agree !

part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13

roommate!james x shy!reader ♡ 733 words

James gets the text just as he arrives home: Are you hungry?

He grins, putting his car in park as he types out a reply. 

I’m wounded. We’re coming up on our one-month roommate anniversary, and you still don’t know I’m always hungry? 

This makes a grand total of four texts between the two of you. You’d conversed a bit more on Craigslist before agreeing to let James move in with you, but barely. Your radio silence is much like your actual silence, but he’s happy to be making a dent in either. 

Your response comes while he’s fishing his keys out of his pocket. Sorry. Want thai?

James laughs, opening the door and toeing off his shoes. He calls in the general direction of your room, “I hope you’re joking about being sorry.” 

He’s hoping for maybe a reply via text, so it comes as a pleasant surprise when you appear on the stairs. You move like a ghost; if he put you and Remus in an old manor together, James is half sure it’d qualify as a haunted house. 

You’re in your pajamas, which means you must already be done with work for the day. James has noticed this is one of your habits; once you’ve decided you’re staying in the house, your outside clothes hit the hamper and you’re living in fuzzy socks. These ones, standing halfway up the staircase, are blue with white stars. Something about seeing you in full cozy mode makes James’ stomach twinge. 

“Do you want Thai?” you ask again, longer and in person. Several decibels quieter than he’d just been.

“Sure.” James gives you a smile, flopping backwards over the arm of the couch. He was going to cook pasta for dinner, but he’s a bit tired anyway and agreeing to the first bonding opportunity you’ve offered him takes precedence. “Do you wanna use my card, or should I pay you after?” 

“Don’t.” You wave him off, already typing on your phone. “I’m getting it.” 

“Not happening,” James replies. He starts digging in his pocket for his wallet, unearthing a half dozen gum wrappers and a receipt from last March. “But in theory, to what do I owe the honor?” 

Your eyes flit to him, something like accusation in them. James feels his eyebrows lift. “I know you don’t have that many leftovers,” you say. 

So, you’re onto him. “I cook a lot,” he replies with a shrug. “If there’s extra, someone should eat it.” 

“But why not you?” 

“Why not you?” he counters. 

You look suspiciously as though you might be biting down on a smile. A real one. “The point is, I owe you at least a meal. Do you want to see the menu?” 

“Sure, thanks.” He reaches out a hand. You come down the stairs to give him your phone, but once it’s in his hand your eyes narrow mistrustfully, fingers tightening on the device. 

“If you try to pay,” you tell him, “I’ll hide the money in your room so you don’t find it until you move out.” 

A laugh bubbles up out of him at your serious tone. “We live together, babe. I think I’ll come across it at some point.” 

“Not with your room as messy as it is.” 

Damn it, you’re right. “Fine.” James holds up his hands in surrender, credit card between his fingers. “But when I make dinner tomorrow, just eat it while it’s hot, yeah? Let’s do away with the pretense.” 

You sigh through your nose, sitting down beside him with one leg curled under you. You’re attempting something that’s probably supposed to be a glare. James would hate to have to tell you how unintimidating it is, but he may if you keep it up much longer; it’s almost too adorable to take. 

“I appreciate it, but you really don’t need to cook for me,” you say. “I eat plenty when you’re not here.” 

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” 

“That’s the point, James.” You roll your eyes, looking halfway amused. Shit, the day he actually makes you laugh he’s gonna have to bake a cake. “You’re not here to see it.” 

“Do you wanna watch a movie while we eat?” He passes you back your phone, having added his order to your cart. “They’ve just added a slew of new movies to Netflix. Also, for tomorrow, do you prefer pasta or chicken?” 

[cowboybeepboop]

Release

"Don't worry...I'll give you what you need baby.."

Pairing: Clark Kent x fem! Reader 

Genre: Smut

Word count: 3.3k

Summary: Your friendly coworker Clark takes care of your needs. 

a/n: As always I hope you enjoy and send any requests you might have my way!

Clark is your annoyingly perfect coworker, you know the type: always on time, always right, never makes a single mistake, and never has a hair out of place, let alone a stained shirt.

Your irritation grows as you rub the coffee stain from your white button-down, thoughts filled with the idea that you’ll find him at his desk, right next to yours looking as *perfect* as ever. 

It's been one thing after the next, first, you saw your long-time boyfriend cheating on you in YOUR apartment with your best friend, then some dumbass hit your car completely totaling it which leaves you taking the subway every morning attempting to be on time yet you always seem to arrive just five minutes late, and now your stupid shirt. Your favorite shirt. 

It’s silly to think you’re fighting back tears over a $15 button-down when you didn’t even react to seeing the two most important people in your life raw dogging it on your sheets. Taking deep breaths you adjust your hair, flattening it down, and blinking away the tears that threaten to spill. At least you’re slightly on time, even if it meant leaving home 30 minutes before you'd usually even wake up.

Finally, you give up on the stain coming to terms with the fact that a slight brown tinge is better than being late *again*. You slip into your chair with a quiet huff, pinching the bridge of your nose as you gaze at the clock on the wall. Glancing to your side you see Clark, he's 15 minutes early, smelling like heaven, he looks sleek as always, without a single hair out of place. 

Clark catches you looking at him as you huff and puff next to him, he tries not to chuckle at the frown on your face before he turns to you, friendly and unassuming as usual, completely oblivious to any issues you may have. He smiles his signature warm and charming smile.

"Good morning, you're here on time today, finally," he teases, his tone light and innocent, not realizing his words sound like a veiled jab when they fall from his lips.

You turn to him, eyes narrowed in an intense glare. "Mind your own business, Kent." You grumble, your usual (fake) friendliness gone like your ex-boyfriend. Focusing on the computer in front of you, you log on, scrolling through the endless emails.

Clark blinks awkwardly at your response, surprised by the harshness in your voice. He’s not quite used to you snapping at him, sure you have your moments but you’re rarely outright hostile.

He sits back, running a hand through his hair and rubbing the back of his neck, slightly perplexed about how to respond.

Clark hesitates for a moment, debating whether to address your change in tone. Clearing his throat, he tries to keep his tone lighthearted. "Um…is everything okay? You seem a bit, uh…”

He trails off, realizing that nothing he says will help his case and that you may actually bite his head off if he continues. So he shifts slightly in his chair instead, averting his eyes from yours as he pretends to focus on something on his computer.

"Look, Clark." You sigh, turning to him once again, tone much softer this time, "I don't need your pity, there's no need to pretend like you care." you slip out of your chair, heading to the break room to grab another coffee. 

Clark raises an eyebrow at your words, his lips curving into a slight frown as he watches you go. He waits a few moments before silently following you, his steps almost soundless as he approaches you at the coffee machine.

He stands behind you, his presence quiet and calm, as he studies your expression before speaking.

"Who said anything about pretending?" He asks, his voice low and earnest.

You're standing on your tippy toes, attempting to reach the coffee on the top shelf of the cabinet. "Why would you care about me and my problems? We're *just* coworkers." 

Clark swallows, feeling a pang of disappointment in his chest at your dismissive words. He leans against the counter beside you, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he contemplates how to respond.

"Just coworkers..." he mutters softly before sighing quietly, "Right."

He watches you struggle to reach the coffee for a moment, his hands twitching in his pockets as he resists the urge to reach out and grab it for you.

Clark can't tear his eyes away from the way your body stretches and extends with every effort to reach the coffee, the muscles in your thighs and backside taut and prominent as you stand on your tippy toes. It's an unconscious and innocent action, but it's affecting him more than he'd like to admit...

He clears his throat again, shifting his weight and trying to control the thoughts that begin to flood his mind. But as he watches you struggle once more, his restraint is slowly but surely beginning to fray.

"I'm sorry," you sigh, finally managing to grasp the coffee grounds. "I didn't mean it like that Clark." once back on flat feet, you look at him with a gentle expression. 

The tension drains from Clark's shoulders as he hears your apology, his gaze softening as he looks down at you. He manages a small smile, the corners of his lips tugging upwards slightly. 

"It's okay," he replies quietly. "I understand. You've clearly got a lot on your plate."

He can't help the way his eyes wander over your figure again, lingering on the way your body moves and molds with each movement. The words "I care" hang on his tongue, but he swallows them back down.

Once the machine starts brewing you lean against the counter, crossing your arms under your breasts as you let out a small strangled sigh. "I didn't mean to snap at you either. I've just got a lot going on.." 

Clark's eyes track your movement, watching as you rest against the counter. His eyes seem to linger on the way your arms press against your chest before he manages to force his gaze back up to your face, his cheeks flushing from the heat that spreads through him.

"It's okay," he says again, offering a reassuring smile. "You don't have to explain yourself. I..I get it."

He hesitates for a moment, mulling over his next question before finally swallowing and asking, "Anything I can help with?"

"Not unless you're willing to beat up my ex-boyfriend for me," you chuckle dryly, eyes focused on the empty office. Being the two newest employees you're stuck with the early early morning shift. 

Clark lets out a small, surprised laugh, the sound rich and warm. He leans back against the counter, mirroring your position as he grins at you. 

"Tempting," he admits, his voice tinged with a hint of mischief. "But I think I'd rather help in more...legal ways."

You smile, finding his presence comforting and relaxing, finally putting your restless mind at ease. Your bare thigh brushes over his as you turn to grab a mug, the fabric of your skirt lifting up ever so slightly. "Well, I'll let you know if I can think of anything you can help me with." 

The contact sends a jolt of electricity through Clark's veins, his breath catching in his throat as he feels your skin brush against his. He attempts to keep his reaction discreet, but the way his eyes widen slightly betrays his composure.

He swallows, his mind racing as his gaze drifts down to the exposed flesh of your thigh, the smooth skin on display making his thoughts whirl and pulse. 

"Yes... Please, let me know," he manages to mutter, his voice thick with an undertone he hadn't intended.

"Want some?" you hold out the mug to him, noticing the way his gaze is trained on your legs, a slight flush creeping up your neck. 

Clark is snapped out of his reverie as you hold the mug out to him, his eyes flicking up to yours for a moment before darting down to the mug in your hand again.

He clears his throat and reaches out, his fingers brushing against yours as he takes the mug. The contact sends another spark of electricity through his body, his cheeks flushing slightly as he quickly averts his eyes.

"Uh...yes, thank you," he stutters, trying to disguise the nerves in his voice.

You notice his strange demeanor, eyebrows furrowing as you fill your cup. "Now it's my turn to ask if everything is alright," keeping your tone playful, you gaze up at him softly. 

Clark swallows again, his heart thudding against his chest. He shifts awkwardly on his feet as you question him, his mind racing to find a believable excuse, but failing miserably.

The way you look up at him with such soft, concerned eyes is making it even harder to maintain his composure.

"Uh...yeah, I'm fine," he stammers, forcing a smile. "Just...uh...just a bit tired, that's all."

"And here I thought you were always on the top of your game." you tease softly, reaching to put the coffee back up, sneakily adjusting your skirt so it reveals more of your body. 

Clark watches you strain to reach the high shelf, a wave of guilt washing over him as he realizes he should have helped you get it down in the first place. He steps closer, his body now mere inches away from yours, his chest almost touching your back.

He reaches up and grabs the coffee, his arm brushing against yours in the process. The proximity is enough to send another shiver down his spine. He places the coffee back on the shelf before turning to you, his voice softer this time. "Next time, just ask for my help."

"Clark.." you breathe out his name, shocked by the electricity his touch fills you with. "I, uh, could've put it back myself you know."

Clark freezes, his heart skipping a beat at the sound of his name slipping from your lips. He could swear he was imagining the way you breathed his name, the way it sounded almost like...like a gasp.

He lets out a small huff, his lips curving into a half-smile. "I know," he says quietly, his eyes fixed on yours. "But I wanted to help."

"Mhm..." you murmur, gaze trained on his muscular body as heat rises in your cheeks. Your heart pounds in your chest, something about the way he touched you makes you heated. 

Clark's chest tightens as he registers the way your eyes rake over his frame, his skin burning in the wake of your gaze as you take him in. He swallows, the sound seeming louder than normal to his heightened senses.

The subtle shift in your breathing, the hint of flustered color adorning your cheeks, the heat radiating from your body... all of it feeds into the growing tension between you two.

"Clark," you step closer to him, gathering all the confidence you can. "There is *something* you could do to help me..." 

Clark's heart thuds harder, the closeness of your body almost intoxicating as he feels heat begin to pool in his gut. He inhales sharply, the scent of you clouding his senses as he struggles to focus on your words.

His voice is low and gruff when he responds, barely a whisper, "Anything."

"I want.." you take a steadying breath, "I want you." you press your fingers into his side, pulling his body closer to yours.

Clark's breath hitches as he feels your fingers press into his side, a shudder coursing through him as you pull his body against yours. He lets out a soft, involuntary moan as he feels the heat of your body against his, every nerve in his body on fire with need.

He looks down at you, his eyes wide and dilated, the last few remnants of restraint finally giving in. "Christ..." he mutters under his breath.

"There’s no one here right now," You bite on your bottom lip, knee sliding between his legs as you press against his groin. 

Clark lets out a hiss, his breath hitching once more as he feels the heat and friction of your body press against his. The unexpected sensation of your knee between his legs sends a jolt of pleasure through him, his hips involuntarily bucking against you as he fights to keep control. 

His voice is a low, ragged growl as he responds, "You're not playing fair.."

"I'm not.." you murmur, fingers moving to unbutton his slacks, "I never play fair," 

Clark's eyes widen in surprise as he feels your fingers on his slacks, his body frozen as he watches you undo them, freeing his erection from the confines of his clothes. The feel of your touch, the implication behind your actions, is driving him crazy. 

He lets out a strangled moan, his breath ragged and irregular. "This...this isn't...we shouldn't be doing this here," he stammers, his voice lacking conviction as his eyes remain fixed on your hands.

"Exactly... That's what makes it so," you press a kiss to his jaw, "exhilarating" 

The feeling of your lips against his jaw is enough to send Clark over the edge, any shred of restraint he had left evaporating into thin air. 

He lets out a breathless growl, the sound thick and heavy with desire, as his hands reach out to grip your hips. His grasp is firm, the strength in his hands evident as he pulls you even closer to him, his body flush against yours. 

"You...you're killing me.." he groans, the heat pooling in his stomach almost unbearable.

Clark's mind is reeling, the sensation of your smooth skin under his touch driving him crazy as he lifts you onto the counter, his movements surprisingly precise and controlled despite the whirlwind of desire coursing through him. 

As he pushes your skirt up, revealing your bare thighs, he lets out a low, guttural sound, his eyes fixed on the sight of your body in front of him. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this..." he murmurs huskily, his voice strained with desperate need.

“Clark, please… I need you,” you whine, body aching with months of unfulfilled desire. Your ex never quite knew how to use those 4 inches. 

Clark's breath hitches, his heart thudding in his chest as he hears the pleading tone in your voice, the sound nearly breaking him in an instant. It's doing something to him, to his ego and his emotions.

He leans in, his lips against your ear as he whispers, "Don't worry...I'll give you what you need baby.." he spreads your legs, pulling you to the edge of the counter, pressing his tip against your aching cunt. 

Your face contorts in pleasure, the gentleness of his touch, the desire behind his eyes, and the idea of being caught, all of it is working to make you ache even more.

He slowly slides into you, moaning as your pussy stretches around his thickness. Clark keeps his thrusts slow, gently working his way deeper inside you, and your nails immediately dig into his shoulders. 

“Fuck, fuck,” you’re intoxicated by his touch, “mm so big.” you moan needily, hole clenching around him. He groans, large hands moving across your frame as he finally bottoms out, his tip hitting the pleasure point in you. 

“Is this okay?” He cups your face, pressing soft kisses to your lips as he gives you time to adjust. 

Clark’s question hangs in the air as you both pant and tremble from the intensity of the moment. You nod fervently, your eyes never leaving him, the silent communication speaking volumes of your need. He takes that as his cue, his gentle touch turning to one of urgency as he begins to move within you. 

His strokes are deep and deliberate, each one hitting that spot that has you clinging to him tighter, your moans growing louder with every passing second. The office around you fades away as you become lost in the sensation, your mind racing with the illicit thrill of doing something so taboo with your coworker. 

His kisses become more passionate, his tongue claiming your mouth as he picks up the pace, the sound of your skin slapping against his echoing in the quiet space. The tension between you two has been building for months, a dance of wills and glances, and now it’s all culminating in this desperate, passionate embrace. 

You wrap your legs around his waist, your heels digging into his firm ass, urging him deeper with every thrust. The break room becomes a cocoon of passion, the only sounds are your muffled cries of pleasure and his grunts of effort. 

The friction between you builds a delicious pressure that demands release. You can feel him swell within you, his need matching yours. Your breaths become gasps, and your eyes widen as the first waves of orgasm crash through your body, tightening around him. "Clark...I'm gonna..." you manage to breathe, your voice shaking.

Clark's eyes darken with desire as he feels your orgasm approaching, his own need reaching its peak. He increases his rhythm, driving into you with a passion that surprises even him. "Cum for me," he whispers, his voice thick with need. 

The sound of your impending climax is his undoing, and he lets out a guttural groan as he joins you, his hips bucking against yours as he fills you with his release. 

The aftermath is a haze of heavy breathing and racing hearts, the realization of what you've just done slowly sinking in. You cling to him, your bodies still connected as the tremors of pleasure subside. 

Clark's heart is still racing, his body shaking from the intensity of the moment, as he gazes at you, his fingers tracing gently across your face. He's silent, his breath ragged and labored, as he absorbs the enormity of what just happened. 

The silence between you is thick and heavy, filled with the weight of what you both just did. Clark's eyes flicker between yours, a mixture of concern and wonder in his expression. Finally, he speaks, his voice rough and low. "Are you..are you okay?"

"More than okay," you murmur, dazed and utterly satisfied. "You're so good, Clark." you slide off the counter, standing on shakey legs.

Clark helps you steady yourself, his strong arms wrapped around your waist to support you as you make your way to the bathroom. He can't help but chuckle softly at your unsteady legs, a mixture of pride and amusement filling him. 

Once you're both freshened up and presentable, he walks you back to your desks, his hand resting gently on the small of your back the entire way. 

"Are you feeling better now?" he asks, his voice now smug, his eyes searching your face.

"Much, much better." you grin satisfied by his disheveled appearance. The perfect Clark Kent is barely able to concentrate on his work, his hair is slightly frizzy and out of place, and his shirt is wrinkled, all of it makes your stomach pool with warmth once more.

Clark can't help but chuckle at your satisfied grin, his cheeks flaring with a hint of blush as he realizes the state he's in. He reaches up to straighten his hair, only making it more tousled in the process. 

He catches sight of his wrinkled shirt and wrinkled and he lets out a low sigh, shaking his head with a mixture of amusement and embarrassment. "I look like a complete mess, don't I?" he says, a sheepish grin on his lips.

"A perfect mess," your tone is light, eyes full of admiration.

[a-hazbin-reader]

HII

Could you do some hcs of alastor with wife!reader who ABSO(LUTE)LY adores dogs? (alastor hates the dog with his entire life)

I mean...he kinda has a good reason not to be a dog person...

😡

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Alastor Vs Doggo 🐶 Cannibalism, Vox getting owned by dog

Description: ☝️⬆️

Look, Alastor loves you deeply and would do anything for you, absolutely anything

Except let you have a dog

Absolutely not, he won't have a dog running around in his hotel and creating problems

He can already see it

The dog using the hotel as it's personal bathroom, gnawing on his hooves and ruining all the furniture

Humping everything in sight!!

You can have anything else, you can have Niffty! She makes a good pet don't you think?

No

How about Husk? He's basically a cat

"Fuck you!"

You want a dog, you even have one picked out already

You what? When did you even have time to go look at dogs? He's been purposefully keeping you busy anytime you mention one

The bite marks all over your body are evidence of it

Totally doesn't believe you're actually bringing home a dog until you do, then he's spitting out his tea

"Y/N, darling, what is that?"

"A smoothie."

"You know what I mean."

"Oh this? Our new dog, isn't he cute?"

You can't have a dog in the hotel-

Charlie and everyone else already agreed to it, even Husk said yes just to piss off Alastor

So everyone is on your side and you'll have adequate help, Alastor won't hardly ever even notice the dog

Except he does notice the dog, like all the time

The damned beast is always trying to hop up next to him, only to be shoved off by Alastor

"No furry beasts on the furniture~ The hair is a nightmare to clean up. Disgusting really..."

Not Husk and Angel giving him dirty looks for that one

After a couple of unsuccessful attempts to sit next to him, it simply settles for resting by his feet

At least it makes a decent footrest

Or the dog is always hogging your attention, sitting in your lap, laying with you in bed, following you around

How is a man supposed to sleep with his wife when there's some mutt in his spot???

You've caught Alastor glaring at your dog a few times, especially when you're giving him scratches and pets

He wants to be the one to hog your lap and be pampered by you, maybe you could even try giving him a belly rub or two

It certainly looks appealing

Alastor at least thinks he can get time alone with you outside of the hotel but nope, you insist on taking the dog with you

"He needs the fresh air and exercise, Alastor!"

But your husband needs some alone time with you! He's not being dramatic!

Or he's trying to enjoy his breakfast?? Guess who's paws are on the table, begging and slobbering over the idea of a bite

"Absolutely not, you can just forget abou-HEY!"

Looks like his breakfast now belongs to the dog

You definitely make him another breakfast and apologize over and over again

Kiss him and sit in his lap, then maybe he'll consider forgiving you~

Sometimes, when you're sleeping, Alastor and the dog will be locked into a staring match

"I don't like you."

Whine

Rosie tries to sell him on the idea of just maybe liking this one dog, even she's taken a liking to him apparently

Traitor

You make Alastor promise that he won't ever get rid of the dog, OR EAT HIM, OR HURT HIM

And he can't break a promise he made to his darling wife

But he hates this fucking dog with a passion so when the dog suddenly gets out one day? He's perfectly content to let him run off

Until he realizes how upset you would be that your beloved pooch is gone and that gives him pause

Fffffffffuck

Not him spending all day trying to find a dog he doesn't even like, asking everyone if they've seen him

Nope, no, sorry no, ect

Just when Alastor has just about given up and started to contemplate trying to replace the mutt, he hears a familiar yell

"IS THIS DOG FUCKING PISSING ON ME!?"

Vox

Following the sound, Alastor is greeted with the sight of your dog running circles around Vox, who's standing in a puddle with wet pants

For some reason, the delightful mutt has taken to terrorizing him, biting at his limbs only to jump just out of reach of Vox's claws

Maybe it's something he's picked up from Alastor, you certainly didn't teach the dog that

The sight is too funny for Alastor, who doesn't even try to stop the dog, only laughing maniacally

Maybe this mutt isn't so bad

Later, when he comes home with the dog, you notice they seem much fonder of each other

Alastor goes and picks him out a fancy new leash, he starts giving him table scraps and he even invites the dog to be his footrest

Quit putting your feet on my dog

Stop giving the dog fingers!!

You catch him giving the pup a few scratches here and there, almost in an absent-minded manner

He starts calling the dog by his name instead of calling him beast, mutt, hound, monstrosity, ect

He even gives the dog his own room at the hotel with his own fluffy doggy bed

Okay, that last part might just be him wanting his marital bed back

We love dogs in this house!!

[officialaemondtargaryen]

is it casual now?

Prompt: You and Eddie totally aren't dating, right?

Characters: Eddie Munson x Reader, brief mentions of Steve Harrington x Reader.

Word Count: ~5.5k

Author’s Note: Happy birthday @felteppsters

Playlist: Casual by Chappell Roan

Warnings: Smut & fluff.

If you had a dollar for every time someone asked if you and The Freak were dating, you'd have made four dollars this week alone.

And it's only Tuesday.

You didn't go out of your way to spend time with Eddie Munson, and he never once asked if you wanted to hang out outside of school, but somehow you always managed to find yourself getting fingered in the back of his van in the parking lot during study hall. And he was known to drop a note in your locker on occasion asking you to meet him in that one bathroom that no one ever used for a quickie during lunch.

But that was neither here nor there.

The point was that people were beginning to notice.

It wasn't a bad thing. It's not like dating Eddie would ruin your reputation- despite what some people would say. It was just that when people asked if you and Eddie were dating, you didn't know how to answer because you, yourself, were not exactly sure what that answer was.

So you just said no, and you probably said it a little too defensively.

Does hooking up occasionally count as dating? No. In order to be dating someone you had to at least go out on an actual date, right? The night he took you to his trailer to 'fuck you in a real bed' and ordered pizza delivery didn't count, either, no matter how long you cuddled with him afterwards.

"I heard a rumor," it was Robin. She fell in step with you as you both exited fourth-period Algebra and headed toward the cafeteria. "And I just need a little bit of clarification, so forgive me if what I'm about to ask is-"

"I swear to God, Robin, if you're about to ask me if I'm dating Eddie Munson," you held up your hand and cut her off, stopping short in the middle of the hallway; your boots scuffing the speckled white tile floor, causing a slight traffic jam of bodies.

"What!?" She gasped. Either she was a really great actress or she genuinely hadn't heard. "There's a rumor going around that you're dating Eddie Munson?"

"No?" you deflected and picked up the pace. "What did you hear?"

"That you're dating Eddie Munson." With that, your face fell and she pulled her lips between her teeth to keep herself from laughing. "Well, is it true? Because Maria Fuentes heard from Charlie Dawson that Tina saw you guys in the parking lot last Friday and she did not hold back on the details."

"First of all," you said stopping at your locker. "I feel violated."

"Well, you were, you know-" Robin held up her fingers and made a lewd gesture causing you to cringe.

"Second of all-" You began again, only to be cut off by a folded piece of paper falling from your locker to the floor as you opened the flimsy, metal door. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks as Robin quickly bent down and snatched the note from under you before you had the chance.

"You were saying?" She asked, a playful smirk pulling at her lips as she dodged every one of your attempts to take the note back from her. "Meet me. You know where. Signed, E.M." She read aloud. "Oh, look, there's even a little heart. That is so cute!"

"Second of all," you repeated after you had snatched the crumpled paper from her hands. "We are not dating."

Eddie's lips were on yours the moment the bathroom door closed behind you; before you were even able to flip the lock. You hadn't seen him since last Friday, and you could easily tell that he had gotten needy over the weekend. You wanted to enjoy the moment, but all that you could think about was this rumor.

He took a few steps forwards, pushing you back to the double sink until you were sitting on the counter; pushing himself between your legs, his hands falling to your sides, fingertips digging into your flesh. His lips were everywhere, biting and sucking hungrily as he squeezed every inch of your body he could get his hands on.

You placed your palm firmly on his chest and lightly pushed him away from you. He took a step back and you took in his appearance; tight denim jeans, a flannel wrapped around his hips, t-shirt just slightly messy enough to reveal a scruffy happy trail below his navel. His jeans were especially tight in the crotch, and his eyes were dark with desperation as he returned your gaze. He ducked his head to meet your lips once again, but you turned your head and ensured his lips fell to your cheek instead.

"Something's definitely up with you," he said softly as he placed another kiss on your temple.

He looked so good and made you feel so good, you just wanted to pull him back down to you and fuck him in this bathroom for the umpteenth time, but you couldn't. He stepped back and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket; looking so cool as he placed one between his lips and took a long drag, sending smoke billowing around the tiny room.

"You haven't heard?" You asked. He shrugged. "Someone saw us Friday in your van and now the entire school thinks we're dating."

"Oh," he let our a sarcastic chuckle. "And that's a problem for you, I guess? Can't be seen with the freak, right?"

"No," you rolled your eyes at the fact that he would even suggest that. "I just didn't know if- are we?"

He shrugs again, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I thought it was just casual."

"Casual?" You ask, and he nods. "Okay, well, I have to go. My next class is all the way on the other side of the building and I don't want to be late."

He can tell by your tone that you're upset.

"What do you want me to say?" He asks, making one last attempt to make you stay as you pick up your book bag from the floor.

"Nothing."

"You're pissed," he actually reached for you this time, but you shrugged him off.

"No," you replied. "I'm just-" you paused for a moment looking for the right words. "I'm casual." He winced. "Have a good day, Eddie."

You wanted to slam the door in his face, but it wasn't that type of door, so you opted for storming off loudly. As you rounded the corner you knocked shoulders with some girl from the Cheerleading squad who yelled at you to watch where you were going, but you didn't care to respond. Your legs were carrying you as quickly as they could without breaking into a full sprint down the halls of Hawkins High.

It wasn't a lie when you stated that your next class was on the other side of the school. You were sweating by the time you reached your desk. Robin had gotten there first, slumped back in her assigned seat with a smirk on her face as you sat down, trying to catch your breath.

"Long commute?" She asked, her voice laced with sarcasm.

"Shut the hell up, Buckley." You snapped.

"Uh oh," she held her hands up in defense. "Must be some trouble in paradise."

"I told you earlier, Eddie and I are not dating."

"Roger that."

The last bell couldn't come soon enough. All that you wanted to do was get home and get into bed- and preferably cry into a bowl of ice cream. You'd have never imagined yourself crying over the likes of Eddie Munson, but the thought of losing whatever it was that you had with him was upsetting.

He was your friend, after all. You had a lot in common with him. He could make you laugh and there was no shortage of conversation when you were around him. He was always getting shit from his friends, but you loved the fact that he never shut the hell up. And when there wasn't a conversation to be had, there was always music; whether it was his long list of cassette tapes or him strumming away on his guitar, there was never a dull moment.

And here you were ruining it over a label.

Robin held the door open for you as you both stepped out into the warm summer weather. Waves of students began lining up in the parking lot for their respective busses, but you typically walked home when the weather was nice.

"So since you're not dating Eddie Munson," Robin began and you couldn't help but roll your eyes so hard that it almost gave you a headache. "I was wondering if you might want to go on a double date with Vickie and myself?"

"A double date typically involves two couples."

"Right, you're absolutely right." Robin was stuttering. "I have this friend and he is also single. Problem solved."

"Steve?"

"Yeah."

"No."

"Wh- Why?"

"Because I have nothing in common with Steve and Steve is a prick," you replied bluntly.

Robin rolled her eyes. "He's actually not, like, at all. Besides, I talk about you all the time to him and he said that he would really like to meet you."

"He must have forgotten that he spent the majority of my freshman and sophomore year bullying me with Tommy H and Carole," you muttered under your breath.

Your friend reached out and grabbed you by the shoulder, stopping you in place and spinning you around to face her. A sigh escaped your lips as you looked her in the eye.

"That was a long time ago. I wasn't a huge fan of him when I first met him, either." She gave you a lopsided smile and you found her attempts to win her friend a date with you amusing. "I promise you that it's worth a shot. So, if you change your mind, we're going roller skating on Saturday night."

"You rollerskating?" You laughed and heard a car honk a few times as it pulled up.

"You're so funny!" She stated sarcastically.

Steve gave you a derpy smile as he rolled the passenger side window down. He was wearing his Family Video vest. "Good afternoon, ladies." He called out smoothly, you returned with a small wave.

"Sleep on it?" Robin asked as she opened the door to Steve's car.

"Fine," you rolled your eyes. "I'll think about it."

Robin smiled as she ducked into the passenger seat and closed the door behind her. "I'll see you tomorrow!"

Saturday came sooner than expected, and you had to admit that you were nervous. If someone had told you a year ago that you'd be going on a date with Steve Harrington, you'd probably punch them in the throat. Hell, if someone told you that a week ago, you'd still be swinging.

You had avoided Eddie at all costs throughout the rest of the week. Though, you'd be lying if you said that you weren't a little disappointed there were no notes left in your locker, or that he didn't find some way to talk to you after you left him standing in that bathroom Tuesday afternoon. You even waited up some nights hoping for a phone call or a pebble on the window, but none came.

It took over an hour and half to pick an outfit. Almost every article of clothing you owned was crumpled on the floor or tossed on the bed as you tried on a dozen different outfit combinations. It was the roller rink, so you wanted to be comfortable, but it was technically a date, so you also wanted to at least seem like you tried. Finally, as the clock ticked closer to seven, you decided on jeans, an off-shoulder top, and your Converse. You really didn't care to impress Steve Harrington; you didn't care in freshman and sophomore year and you certainly didn't now.

"I thought you said you had a date," your mother mentioned as you stepped into the living room. She was on the couch watching Who's The Boss, a jar of mixed nuts in her lap.

"I am," you replied as you shrugged into your denim jacket. She looked you up and down and you rolled your eyes. "We're going rollerskating; comfort was the priority!"

The distant sound of a car horn honking interrupted the conversation, prompting you to glance out the front door. Steve, acting as the evening's chauffeur, awaited with Robin and Vickie in the backseat.

"Don't be out too late," your mother muttered between mouthfuls of peanuts. "But enjoy yourself."

As the heavy glass door swung open, a wave of familiar sounds and vibrant colors enveloped your senses. The Rollerdome was typically busy on a Saturday night, but tonight it seemed everyone in Hawkins had the same idea to go skating. The neon lights that adorned the rink's interior created a kaleidoscope of vivid hues; fluorescent pinks, electric blues, and neon greens adorned the walls, blending with the glow of disco balls suspended from the ceiling. Upbeat pop music and the thud of roller skates on the smooth, wooden floors flooded your ears as Robin and Steve bickered over which table to claim for the evening.

"I vote this one," Robin declared with unwavering confidence, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "That way, we've got front-row seats to all the wipeouts!"

"That is the exact reason why no one sits at this table, Robin," Steve countered with exasperation. "Everyone knows that the floor is slick there and when someone takes a spill, it's usually right into the table." He pauses before looking at you. "Bye-bye chili dogs."

You can't help but suppress a small smile, "I think it's perfect. If there's a chance one of those uppity assholes comes flying face first into our table, it'll be the highlight of my entire year."

"Can't argue with that logic," Steve added quickly. "Good choice, Robin."

She rolled her eyes and dragged Vickie off towards the rental counter. You casually tossed your bag on the top of the table; a clear marker that it was claimed. Steve removed his jacket and placed it next to your bag before running a hand through his thick, dark hair. It was clear that he was nervous as his eyes darted around the roller rink. He definitely didn't give off the same 'King Steve' aura that you remembered so well.

Maybe you'd give him a chance.

Just kidding.

You turned on your heel and walked off towards the snack bar, drawn in by the delicious aroma of extra cheese pizza and buttered popcorn, leaving Steve scrambling to catch up with your determined stride. Robin wanted a pretzel and a Coke slushy while Vickie had asked for cheese fries and an orange soda. You wanted nachos but agreed when Steve ordered to split a pizza, doing his best to impress you as he paid for everyone, but instead, all he got out of you was a slight eye roll. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Vickie lead a wobbly Robin out onto the rink. A chuckle escaped your lips as you witnessed their valiant attempts to navigate the rink without falling prey to the more seasoned skaters.

"So what are you into?" Steve asked as he filled up his drink at the fountain machine. "What do you like?"

"Uh," you weren't really sure what to say. You still couldn't really get past the fact that Steve Harrington was trying to have a conversation with you. "I like music."

"Yeah?" He asked. "I like music."

"Cool."

"This is a good song," he replied and pointed awkwardly to the overhead speakers while Another One Bites The Dust by Queen played loudly.

You couldn't help but think of the irony and did your best to suppress a laugh before Steve got the impression that you thought he was funny. Oh, how this date was failing epically; which you were already anticipating, so at least you hadn't gotten your hopes up about it. Steve was almost trying too hard to force a spark between the two of you, but without Robin around- which was often because she was too busy flailing about on her skates while Vickie tried her hardest to keep her from falling- it was absolutely boring.

At least the two of them seemed to be having a good time.

As the night continued on, you found yourself gradually shedding the initial reserve that had clung to you like a second skin. The pulsating rhythm of the music, the laughter of your friends, and the infectious joy of gliding across the smooth floor started to work its magic. A genuine smile tugged at the corners of your lips as Steve, Vickie, and Robin circled the rink alongside you, sharing jokes and banter.

"I need something to drink!" You yelled over the music at your friends before carefully exiting the floor onto the carpet.

Steve exited with you, gliding up to the table with ease; moving around you to the music, dancing on his skates. The hesitant glances you'd given him earlier transformed into playful exchanges, and you couldn't help but admit that his efforts to charm you had slowly but surely begun to work.

As Robin and Vickie continued to skate around the rink, something caught your eyes in the corner; a familiar, curly head of brown hair in the back towards the arcade. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his brown eyes pinned to you as his friends huddled around one of the pinball machines.

You smirked softly as the music changed. In the background you could hear Steve talking, but you were too busy having a staring contest with Eddie from across the room.

"So what d'ya say?" Steve asked.

"What?" You asked, reluctantly tearing your eyes away from Eddie.

"It's a slow song," he mentioned. You could see a blush creeping to his cheeks. "Did you want to couple's skate?"

You agreed, allowing Steve to take your hand and lead you out onto the rink. It was wrong of you to use Steve in the way that you were, especially since you were just starting to like him. But the satisfaction that you felt seeing Eddie roll his eyes as you and your date skated by was too good to pass up. And yes, you faked the giggles and latched on to Steve's arm a little more with each time you passed Eddie, really twisting that knife as much as you could.

But hey, it was just "casual" right?

As the song came to a close and Steve led you by the hand back to your table. You couldn't help yourself but to glance back to the corner of the rink towards the arcade, only to see Eddie push himself off of the wall and stomp off towards the exit.

"I'll be right back," you called over to Steve as the song ended. "I need to get some fresh air."

"I'll come with!" Steve offered but you placed a hand on his arm to stop him before he could unlace his skates.

"I'll be okay," you assured him with a sweet smile. "I'll be right back."

Hurriedly, you unlaced your skates and shoved your feet into your worn-down tennis shoes before chasing after Eddie. The summer air was still very humid as you stepped out of the cool air conditioning and into the parking lot. The sunset was barely lingering on the horizon and the sky was a mixture of periwinkle and orange. To your right, you could see Eddie walking away from you and towards his van.

"Hey!" You called to him. He turned around to see it was you and threw his head back dramatically before turning back to his van. "What is your problem?"

"Steve Harrington, really?" He spat, turning to you once again.

"Oh, come off it!" You replied, closing the gap between you. "Jealousy does not suit you, babe."

"Steve fucking Harrington?" He asked again. "I mean what do you even talk about with that guy? Different variations of the color beige?"

"At least he can stand to be seen with me in public!"

You were standing toe-to-toe with him now, chests heaving. His eyes squinted as he stared down at you.

"You want to be seen in public?" He asked. "Careful what you ask for, princess."

Before you could protest, his hands were on your shoulders, maneuvering you to his van; walking you backward until your back was pressed up against the side door. "Hopefully Harrington will wander out here looking for you." He reached a hand behind you, swinging the door open, and pushed you in. "He gives me the impression of someone who likes to watch."

Eddie crawled into the van after you, leaving the door open, not caring who saw or heard. His lips were on yours in an instant. You moaned as he ducked his head into your neck, working your nerves as he popped the button on your jeans. He didn't even care to pull them all the way off, or your shoes for that matter. As soon as he had pulled your pants down far enough to expose your pussy to him, he held your legs over his head and began thumbing your clit; spreading a slick coat of wetness along your swollen lips. He lifted you up, throwing your legs over his shoulder as his tongue hungrily delved into your core.

You gasped in surprise, hands flying to his hair, wrapping around the thick of his roots. You could hear him fumbling with his belt buckle as his tongue worked your dripping folds. Once he had freed his girthy cock, he lowered you down, still holding your legs over his shoulders with his arms now snaked around your thighs as he lined himself up with your core.

Without warning, he shoved his cock into the deepest part of you, feeling you tighten and loosen around his length. You moaned loudly, forgetting that the side door to his van was still wide open.

"Should I send you back to King Steve filled with my cum?" He grunted as he thrusted against you. "Let him hold your hand as you feel me dripping into those cute, little panties?"

Your eyes rolled back as he continued to pump into you.

"Look at you," he whimpered, so close already to finding his own release. He dragged his thumb across your bottom lip and you took his digit into you mouth. "Fuck!"

You could feel his cock pulsing against your walls as he filled you with warm ribbons of his cum. Eddie crashed on top of you, his face buried in your neck as he tried to catch his breath. Your hands moved to his shoulders, pushing him off of you with a sigh. You were already pulling your jeans up over your hips and fixing your shirt.

"What is it now?" He asked.

"It's nothing, Eddie." You replied.

"Oh, it's something."

You said nothing and stood up out of his van. Half of you wanted to just walk away and leave him there, like you had on Tuesday, but you couldn't do that again. You were miserable after the first time you did that- so miserable that you agreed to go on a date with Steve Harrington, of all people. This time you turned to him, looking him dead in the eye as you tried to find the right words.

"I'm not just some easy girl, Eddie." You spat at him. "I allowed you to fuck me in the parking lot, and in the bathroom, and in the auditorium that one time because I like you. I guess- I just thought that you liked me, too. I thought I was more than just some girl that you go down on in the passenger seat of your van, but I was wrong."

He opened his mouth to say something, but you held your hand up to stop him, wanting to get it all out.

"You just want sex," you continued. "You don't want to date me, you don't want me to be your girlfriend, you just want something casual, and I'm not that."

"What are you, then?" He asked.

"Leaving."

He said nothing as he watched you turn away, leaving him completely dumbfounded. For once, you felt like you had the upper-hand in this game the two of you had been playing for months now.

The walk from Eddie's van to the front doors of the Rollerdome felt like miles as the gravel of the pavement crackled beneath your feet with each step. You half expected him to run after you, take you in his arms, and confess his love for you, but you were met with nothing but silence. With a final glance over your shoulder, you reentered the roller rink, leaving Eddie to grapple with the unspoken complexities that lingered in the warm, Summer air.

The electric energy of the rink greeted you, once again; a stark contrast to the mood you had created in the parking lot. You didn't want to be here any longer and decided upon re-entry that you were just going to go home. Robin, Vickie, and Steve were all huddled around the table as another slow ballad played loudly through the speakers.

"There you are!" Robin greeted with a lukewarm slice of pizza in her hand. She took immediate notice of your changed demeanor and asked, "is everything okay?"

"No," you replied quickly as you grabbed your jacket. "I think I am just going to go home."

"Home?" Robin asked. "Now?" She stood up and pulled you over to the side away from Steve and Vickie. "Does this have anything to do with Eddie? I saw you running out after him earlier."

"Just forget it, Robin, okay?" You sighed as you turned towards her. You looked over her shoulder to see Steve and Vickie watching you. You lowered your voice, "It's over, okay? Yes, I'm upset about it and I hate that I'm upset about it. I wasn't expecting to actually like him."

Robin sighed, "I didn't realize it was like that, I'm sorry."

You shrug your shoulders and shove your hands in your jacket pockets. "It's fine, I'll get over it."

She gave you a half smile, "can we at least give you a ride. I'm sure Steve won't mind driving."

"I'm just going to walk," you muttered. "It's not far."

"Alright, catch you on Monday! Last week of senior year!" She exclaimed and raised her hands, mimicking pompoms for added flair. She outstretched her arms and wrapped them around you and provided a tight squeeze.

"Can't wait," you groaned unenthusiastically.

Monday came and went and before you knew it, the final bell of Friday rang throughout those hideous green and gold hallways as a sea of graduates congregated in the gym; tossing their shimmering green caps into the air, signaling the beginning of the rest of your lives. In one hand, your diploma and in the other, your yearbook filled with well-wishes and promises to keep in touch-- most of which you hoped would forever be unkept.

Robin found you outside in the courtyard after she had managed to escape her parents.

"Here's to the first summer of the rest of our lives," she said breathlessly. "Steve and I are going to the mall if you want to come, spend some of this graduation cash from my grandparents."

"I'm okay," you smiled at her. "Raincheck?"

"If you say so," she rolled her eyes. "Where are your folks?"

"My dad had a little too many of those little sandwiches they were giving out," you made a face. "Mom had to take him home early."

"I'm sure my parents could give you a ride home, if you wanted," she said with a soft smile.

Over her shoulder you watched as Eddie, still draped in his cap and gown, rushed off towards the back of the parking lot. "That's okay, I have a ride," you replied with a smirk.

You gave her a hug and slipped away; turning on your heel and escaping the crowd through the parking lot. As the cars grew thin, you noticed a familiar white van in the back, parked in its usual spot. The side door was open and Eddie was sitting in the back; a cigarette in between his lips and his guitar in his lap. His diploma was tossed up on the dashboard, and his cap and gown were tossed in the passenger seat.

He strummed skillfully as you walked up the side of his van. His eyes were lulled shut and his head was titled back on the headrest. He hummed softly and your lips couldn't help turning into a smile. He was so undeniably perfect and he didn't even know it.

"Is that new?" You had been hanging out with Eddie long enough now to know his songs by heart. He always asked your opinion on his songwriting.

His eyes fluttered open, but his fingers continued strumming. You could see his gaze taking you in as you effortlessly leaned against the passenger door. He shrugged lazily and tilted his head back once again, staring up at the scuffed metal ceiling of his van.

"I was feeling inspired," he finally replied as he exhaled smoke out of the corner of his mouth. "It's about a terrible, evil temptress who collects the souls of the men of the realm." You quirked an eyebrow at him. "Until one day, she meets a kind and handsome young man who doesn't have a soul to give. So instead, he gives her his heart."

"Sounds a bit dramatic," you replied as you tried to hide the smile creeping to your lips, once more.

"I was thinking about the other night," his fingers stopped strumming as he reached up to pull the cigarette from his lips. He exhaled another cloud of smoke.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, see," he took another drag from his smoke. "I do like you and I do want you to be my girlfriend, always have."

You threw up your hands, "It's hard for me to believe that, Eddie! We fuck nearly every day but you can't take me out on one date? How am I supposed to believe that you want me to be your girlfriend if you can't even respect me enough to take me out!?"

"We have too gone on dates! I bought you pizza that one time!" He exclaimed as he set his guitar back down in the case and snapped it shut. "And we watched your favorite movie!"

"We watched Troll," you deadpanned.

"Yeah, we did," he replied as he stood up out of the van. He towered over you as he stood up straight. "And after it was over you said that it was your new favorite movie."

"I was being SARCASTIC!"

"God damnit!" He spat right back.

"You took me back to your trailer because you were tired of fucking me in this van!" His jaw dropped at the accusation. "And the only reason you ordered pizza was because there was nothing else to eat and you struggle to even microwave a frozen TV dinner!"

His hand flew over his chest as he gasped. "You really are an evil and terrible temptress! Your words are venomous!"

You sighed, "Tell me honestly... is there something wrong with me?"

"You think there's something wrong with you?" Eddie asks, a small laugh escaping his perfect lips. He shakes his head and moves his hands up your arms to your shoulders, looking at your straight on. "Sweetheart, you're perfect."

A blush creeps to your cheeks and you can practically feel yourself melting in his hands.

"You're perfect, like, way too good for me," he continued, a bashful grin playing on his lips. "I should've said it before, a million times."

"You think?" You asked.

"Let's just start over, okay?" He pleaded and jutted his hand out to you as if he was asking for a handshake. "Hi, I'm Eddie. Will you be my girlfriend?"

You narrowed your eyes as you glanced down at his hand, pursing your lips in a futile attempt to suppress a smile. Fuck, you hated how goddamn charming he was. Giving up fully to him, you accepted his hand. Though, before you could utter a single word, he pulled you in for a lingering kiss that left you breathless.

"Say yes," he whispered as he pulled away, his lips hovering just above yours.

"Yes," you whispered as you look up into his dark brown eyes.

[valentine-cafe]

Hello!! Rasui-obsessed anon here! First time requesting and I’m a bit new here so sorry if I get it wrong!

( smut ) for ftm reader please? You just wanted to spend some time with the ever so busy Rasui in his office, being clingy and wanting to get intimate without disturbing his work, you suggest cockwarming!! But then it totally backfires cause now you’re all needy and whiny after a while and trying so hard not to beg him to fuck you because you don’t want to bother him anymore than you already have!!

love you guys lots! can i also be 🦐 anon hehe

˖⁺. “ how to not ! cockwarm your busy bf ” : 

﹙ top fire elemental mercenary x bttm ftm reader ﹚.𖹭 ݁

. . . verse 9948e rasui x ftm reader!! 🍒 : ﹙ mercenary leader ˖ fire elemental character ﹚

you're always such a needy thing. you couldn't help but cockwarm your beloved boyfriends while he's busy. . . and now here you are, wishing you could bounce on his cock instead 

﹙ cws ﹚: explicit content ˖ cockwarming ˖ teasing ˖ edging ˖ rough sex ˖ dirty talk | wc : 2.1k 

﹙ receipts ﹚: this request was so fun to write ! I hope that you like this our dearest no.1 rasui-fucker/romancer <3

꒰  other treats : guidelines ˖ m.list ˖ characters ˖ our lore  ꒱

The scratch of a pen. It scribbles away so skillfully over paper. Yet the itch within you is left to swelter. So close - and yet so far.

Deep mahogany seems most interesting to you in the moment. Or at least, that is what you wish to delude yourself with. Your focus hones on the scatter of documents full of text you can barely decipher. Not that you would be able to even if you understood. Not with the warm, thick cock that fills you to the brim. A perfect stretch to your rim that you fight to hell-and-back not to clench up around your hard-working boyfriend.

How dutiful is he. Only one hand to write away at his work that you so desperately wish he would discard. Why can’t it be you on the table with his hands all over you?

Instead you will have to settle for the touch of ember upon your thigh with a calloused thumb lazily tracing circles. Mindlessly, you assume. For Rasui has yet to let out so much as a peep.

While you are here. Suffering. Needing.

All it would take is a small dip of your hips. A rock back into his lap to send fireworks through your twist of a tummy. Perhaps a tender word uttered to his ear where brunette locks lap along his lobes neatly. The slightest of pleads and you knew - work would become an afterthought.

Alas, anxiety is a fickle thing. The mere possibility of him looking at you with those flames of his eyes dampened with disappointment. The warmth of his voice drained into a dull scold: “I told you I am busy.”

It almost loops your tummy more than the intense pleasure that throbs along your gummy walls. They remember his rough thrusts, and they flutter. As though crying out for him to wreck them as he usually does. Simple grinds. Slothful humps. Whatever he wants.

Anything, but the stillness of a lake. One that you drown in. Agonisingly.

That irritable lump that continues to form inside of your throat refuses to go away. Regardless of how much you attempt to swallow it. A sigh escapes the man from behind your back. Heavy and tired. As are the few last scribbles on the current document that plagues his mind so clearly.

All before he moves on to the next. Endless. Piece of document paper, that has laid in the piles of documents.

What else can you do but cry out internally? The flames within your soul feel as though they will rage through your entire form soon enough and rip you to shreds from the need. Yet he knows none of what you feel —

In the reality of it all, he is very aware. It is all a game. Why should he tell you? Oh the cruel man of magma and fire reaching high up to the skies that he is. He recognises the loopy look.

It is sweet. That you think you remain unseen and unnoticed. Without the slightest of realisation you clench around him mindlessly. The way your eyes squint. Pearly whites biting down upon the plush skin of a bottom lip.

“Careful, darling, you’ll break skin.” He murmurs, eyes remaining where they have all this time. The sheet of paper, gathering the slightest of burn marks from the heat emitting from him.

With teeth halting immediately, and a breath hitched quietly. Your eyes move to focus somewhere else in the room — Perhaps a smell could distract you? Cinnamon? No. . . No that is just Rasui.

The window displaying the society of shades’ bustling nightlife? Most uninteresting. It gets harder and harder to not allow a whine or more out of your lungs. Head limping back against his shoulder.

“Sweet thing. You are bothered.”

Oh. Oh this bastard. The question carried such innocence. Feigned, you’d assume no less. You couldn’t do anything, it was mock. Was it not? “I am— I am okay, just tired.” The response earns the lift of a dark brown brow, and a huff. Flames puff into the air from the locks of hair at the top of his head.

“Certainly?” You yelp at the words slipped out into the atmosphere of the room, for you felt his hips shift below you. Pistoning up, as if to adjust. And then he begins to act as though nothing had happened? Pretending. Infuriating.

A part of you wishes to spin around. Hook your legs through the loops of his black office chair and ride him until creaks bounce off of the wall in an endless drone. What a sweet fantasy that is. If you promptly ignore his difference in strength in comparison to you. How easy it would be for him to simply shove your form across his table and fuck you senseless. Surely the chair creaking would be replaced the legs of the desk skidding rhythmically across the floor in no time.

Your mini mirages send another shudder through your body. Your walls flutter around his dick with one of your innermost crevices nursing along that one vein that makes Rasui restrain a groan of his own.

He couldn’t give you what you want just yet, now could he? Not when the payoff of your pitiful begging would be all the more sweeter. He spoils himself in the slightest with traces of his heated lips along your shoulder. A flicker of taste to the confection yet to come.

The click of a tongue breaks the silent. You catch his frustrated scribble of a signature on a document you barely have the chance to read, before he shuffles it beneath the stack of paper. Another operation he does not agree with - you assume.

The ball of irritation that has so stubbornly nestled itself within your core quickly bubbles into guilt. Here you are, whining over not having his dick pounding you sore.

Out of habit, you shift around in an attempt to quell the prickle of conflict within you. It seems you have so easily forgotten of your favourite cock that is buried so deep within you. Its pulses are swift to remind you, coupled with the spurt of pleasure that rattles through your body.

“Fuck,”

It is a cross between desperacy and bliss. What a cruel mix to lather itself over you skin and set your nerves ablaze. Your muscles move on memory and chase the spark of pleasure with stiff cradles of your hips. Sense and conscience flung out the window you so uselessly attempted to distract yourself with.

Surely, if you hadn’t snapped yourself back into presence, your moans would have poured through it shamelessly as well.

“Mm. What’s this?”

“Rasui. . . please.”

You can deny the shivers that course through your body no longer.

It truly was a pain in and of itself. Why could your nails not be scratching hard across the beautiful desk at this moment as you got fucked intensely?

Why did it have to imagination and nothing more?

“Please? Please what, habibi?” He croons. The deep timber of his voice vibrating through your right ear. With the mission to twist your tummy once more and have you clenching.

The needy begs he wants to hear from you— they are not coming. And it sets him ablaze. In the literal way as much as it is figurative. Emotions scattered and screaming, like a wildfire spreading across a meadow.

Hungry, tearing into it.

Just like the flames that surround his office, you feel the ones from him surround your body. Licking away at your skin in possessive manner. As if the flame had a life of it’s own.

You moan out quietly as he shifts his hips into an upwards angle, the throbbing tip of his cock hitting at the sensitive bundle of nerves you had been needing to feel getting fucked into.

“I need — I needyou. Rasui, I nee—ed you, need you so bad—”

And as you went on, you would come to feel the familiar rhythm, slow. Agonising, but despite it all you revered in it.

The pleasure shot bliss straight to your head. Nausea mixing with the pleasure and overwhelm. Furthering your whines as you cling onto him. A groan escapes your throat. Only to cut off into a gasp, when calloused, hot, flaming fingers find your nipple.

Thumb swiping across your top surgery scar. Whilst the heated voice in your ear whispers: “It is pitiful. How you wait, I am right here. Take.”

And there’s the skid of the table.

A familiar weight presses you down as though you are one of those documents. Rasui’s body so firmly pins yours against the smooth wood of his desk. It creates such a delightful friction to your already perked nipples that slide and scrape across the surface.

The hand that stroked along your thigh has found home on your head. With strength that could rage embers through vast forests, it forces your face to half-press against the solid surface. It is a sensation you would have no time to delight in. Not with the fierce claps of hips to your ass. Warmth of flame and force combined.

“Is this what you wanted?” You feel the fire lap from his tongue and lips. They kiss at your ear with a familiar heat that boils in the core of your tummy as thrusts wreck your body. Cinnamon floods your senses - more potent than earlier. An addictive aroma. Almost akin to the delicious feel of his cock splitting your walls open.

“Wanted to come around here. Disturb my work.”

His palm joins the assault. It smacks at your ass and grips at the soft flesh. The perfect leverage for him to angle his thrusts and knock against that one, darling spot. Flames might have consumed you whole - yet white floods your vision in waves. White. Hot pleasure that crawls up your throat and forces your mouth open. Subjecting the office to your moaning melody.

“All so this needy hole could get a good fucking, hmm?”

“Y-Ye - yes yes - yeesss ah! ‘m sorry-”

The table legs screech against the floor at the rise in tempo. Your nails sing in tandem from the scratches they etch into the wood. Just as you wanted them to.

Much like the bright burning stars that litter the night sky, embers scatter off of your joined bodies. Flaming hands keep you down against the wooden surface. Whilst the only thing that burns you are his nails, that dig into the skin of your waist.

A small moaned out scream mixed with pleasure and pain runs around the room. Like a wild animal on the lose. It makes you lightheaded.

The feral feel that swells within your stomach. Your sensitive hole begging for more, whereas your body only seems to collapse more against the desk each time.

“o- o-h! — o — ngh-m hn— R-Ra-sss-zuii!” You moan out loud. Yet what meets you instead is a hand squeezing tight at your thigh and leaving a few burn marks. Whilst sharp teeth find purchase in your shoulder.

“Not that. Say it right.”

The command is shot at your heart, and oh the weakness that spins around with it. In a dance of fresh air and lava pools trying to catch the wind.

Thinning your lips on instinct as the pleasure grows. It takes another hard thrust into the right spot for you to spill out messy calls for him. “D—Director— Di— Director Rasui— ngh — Pl-Pleas-ah!”

“Good boy— thas’ it, good boy.” grunts against your ear, as the pace whips itself out of rhythm. Even if he tried to keep it going, your desperate pleas sent him straight back home to the elemental realm. The sweetest song he has ever heard.

How can he deny you the pleasure of being full of his hot seed when you sing for him so delightfully?

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[biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer]

Helllooo to one of the most amazing writer I know. I was wondering if you could write some hcs on everyone .Them going to the beach and how they would act :D

Seaswept Sands (All x MC/Reader - Beach HCs)

P A P S I C U M. >:}

- Signed by biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer

Seaswept: seaswept (not comparable) Located on the sea quotations.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

This motherfucker hates the beach with a vehemence. He also hates sunscreen, but will still apply it to remain sexily pale.

It’s canon that Sol dislikes the ocean, so the only reason he’d be even remotely close to the beach is because of you.

He probably doesn’t even like sand. He’d rather simply just walk around the beach area. 

If you’re more of a beach lover, he’ll be reluctant to join you in the sand, and beg you to not make him go into the water.

Will wear all black and tie his hair up into a messy bun.

If you’re more of a rock investigator (irl me needs a medal for that tbh), he’s gonna avoid rock pools, mostly due to the fact he resents crabs.

Anything that can crawl on him gives him an ick (except if it’s you).

Probably will just find a cafe and order coffees for both of you, especially if you’re gonna swim. You’ll need something to help warm you up, after all.

Most likely just going to serve as a photographer, totally will not use said photos to jack off to you later so he can paint you later <3.

Will be tempted to murder the seagulls. Probably will wring at least one if it tries harassing him tbh- (you won’t find out dw).

Will supervise the bags and all of your belongings.

Also will drive you there and back. Will also prep the car with tons of towels so A. the car won’t get wet (only you’re allowed to be teehee) and B. so you’re not gonna freeze to death.

Hyugo would probably wear shark fins on his sides just to fuck with people.

He’s got extremely white teeth and (I headcanon) a very creepy grin for when he’s murdering intimidating people. So he’d 110% just very slowly emerge from the depths of the water (Pennywise-style) and scare off all the little kids in the vicinity.

His hair is everywhere around his face, and when he’s underwater it looks like a blue halo. One that you yank on when he’s unaware (and above water for fucks’ sake) to try and get him to yelp. (he may or may not accidentally moan but that’s a whole other story). Don’t worry he bites your ankle underwater in revenge.

He probably doesn’t care at all about what swimmers he wears, hell even Baby Shark merch will work for him. He will proudly display it as well. (balls of steel much??)

This guy hooves ice cream like it’s his last day alive. Maybe even iced coffee. He must consume sugar or he will implode.

Is gonna splash you. You both are gonna have water fights the entire time you’re there, until both of you are sopping wet and dripping with ocean water (and fish piss).

Mans will probably ask you to get piggybacked in the water, which tbf you attempt to, then he drags you both underwater.

Will forget to take photos. You’re gonna have to be responsible for that I’m afraid.

Will drive y’all there and back, blaring J-Pop on the radio and grinning maniacally. Be concerned.

This girl is going to be strutting into any beach, or any public place, looking the most glamorous of all.

Will wear a two-piece pink skort and bikini set 110%, will wear a translucent blouse over the top.

This girl will judge everyone else’s bikinis and swimmers more than actually doing something.

Although she isn’t opposed to going in the water, unless it’s cold – I headcanon Brittney hates the cold – you better not get her hair sopping wet, she will murder you and dump your body in a rock pool. <3

Will buy ice cream, she doesn’t seem the type to like salty foods tbh.

Will stalk up to you and ask what you want then vanishes.

She’s got herself a tanning bed btw.

Will read fashion magazines, maybe even do her beach aesthetic makeup. After all, she’s gotta be the hottest chick there. not that she isn’t already

Will eventually stick to building things out of sand, then getting annoyed and breaking them.

Is also going to shower before you, making sure she’s extremely clean before going to the car.

She drives btw.

Jess is the type to build sandcastles. I will fucking smite anyone who says otherwise.

If you both went to the beach, she’d be unwilling to enter the water, mostly due to the fact she def can't swim for shit, and also doesn't want her glasses to get wet (she hates goggles). Wears swimmers underneath a fucking oversized translucent blouse or something.

Would be the type to just plan ahead what exactly she’ll require to make the greatest sandcastle ever, and if that plan fails, she will be extremely sad for the next 2 hours.

Will be one of those people to bury their best friend/partner under the sand. Will put a lot of effort into making your mermaid tail look majestic.

You both will be eating ice cream under an umbrella, taking turns to take selfies (mostly you, she’d be very shy about having her face, she worries whether she’ll look dumb or not)

You both are gonna just watch over the belongings, and take turns showering at the beach so that (Jess’s) car is clean by the time you both get ready to leave.

You’d have had to win about 2000 bets with Geo to get him anywhere near a beach.

Would wear extremely dark gear, you’d not see any part of his body except his very wonderful head.

Will evade sand like it's the Black Plague.

Oh, just a warning, Geo is part fish.

He swims way too far for any sane human being. Hell, he doesn’t even swim, he just glides through the water. Deadpan. On his back. His hair is in a swimming cap btw, he’s not fucking risking damaging it. Also an avid sunscreen user, this man does not want to fucking tan, ew.

Will not eat anything there. He’s got standards. You’ll have to wine and dine him to get him to even sit down amongst all the other citizens of the city. Will reluctantly get you coffee though. He’ll probably only drink coffee if he craves it.

Will contemplate becoming a serial birdkiller; he hates birds. Their squawking makes him want to tear his eardrums out.

Will be extremely happy to walk along rocks, even boardwalking is better than actually being on the beach.

Will take aesthetic photos of the beach, especially if it's during the sunset. May or may not sneakily take some of you to store in his private stash.

Will also drive you both. He is never going to not drive, unless something drastic happens, like his arms getting cut off.

Crowe will have his hair down and is going to wear a stupidly wide-brimmed sun hat.

Is very careful about applying sunscreen, will check the UV rating multiple times.

Is going to watch over your shit and take really beautiful beach photos, will probably read a book silently under an umbrella. You mistook him for a woman one too many times.

Would make sure you don’t go too deep in the water, makes sure you swim between the flags as well.

Literally a walking, talking safety manual.

It’s okay you can shut him up later, with ball gags and a blindfold. <33

Will probs wear a Hawaiian shirt ngl (someone draw that). He’s a lot more relaxed at the beach. Will also be eating fancy af ice cream while lovingly watching you from afar. <3

Would be happy to search rock pools with you as well, in fact, any walking would do him well. He seems the type to love nature a lot.

Is going to be responsible for wrapping you in towels and ensuring you’re comfortable and your temperature is stable.

Will be the one to drive you both home. He can’t have you doing all the work, now can he?

Deryl will be fucking everywhere; this man loves the beach almost as much as he loves you.

Is going to buy as much food as humanly possible. You will have to remind him he cannot eat like a horse then expect to exercise, his stomach won’t be able to tolerate it. Will be disappointed after.

Tries to talk to the seagulls.

Will throw you into the ocean. Lovingly, of course.

Is also the type to get competitive with a bunch of teens over who can dig the deepest hole in the sand.

Will be looking for crabs, starts squealing from joy if he does see one.

Is probs gonna run across the sand with you (he wins every race you two have) shirtless. He’s gonna take ab pics.

You will not have a single normal looking photo with him, I'm sorry.

Although he does get you both a fuckton of food, so you’re not complaining.

You will have to drive both of your asses home though, he’s too excited to drive carefully enough.

[dilatorywriting]

Pity Party

Gender Neutral Reader x Malleus Draconia Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: 'I'm going to do it,' you thought triumphantly. 'I'm going to invite Malleus Draconia to the next Unbirthday Party as my date.' And naturally, the Universe in all its infinite omnipotence, went 'lol bet.'

A/N: A very fun commission for the lovely @toast-tales

“Heartslaybul is having another one of their Unbirthday Parties this Friday,” you said, a bit stilted but enthusiastic nevertheless. “And I was thinking—well, it was just a thought! But! Maybe it’d be nice if we, y’know, went together?” You finished, looking up from beneath your lashes at the looming figure before you.

The Gargoyle, naturally, did not respond. A sound rejection if ever there was one.

But! That attempt had sounded really good, hadn’t it? Totally natural and everything! Not a single stutter, fainting episode, or bought of nervous vomiting to be seen!

“Okay,” you muttered, pacing back and forth as you diligently fought the urge to ring your hands. “Okay, okay, okay. I can do this. It’s just, like, two sentences—Three? Was that three?—Doesn’t matter! Focus! It’s not that hard!”

You circled and circled around the alcove. It was a familiar little corner, for all that you’d only ever seen it in the dark of the evening. This was where you’d meet up with Malleus for your nighttime rendezvous. Normally you didn’t bother popping by for at least another hour, but you needed all the practice you could get. And while, yes, the stone carvings overhead were hardly the best conversational partners, it was easier to practice your totally smooth pickup skills on their emotionless faces than, like, Grim. Or God forbid, Ace and Deuce. 

It was only Malleus, you reassured yourself yet again—your kindly, awkward, fey friend with the social awareness of a two-centuries-old potato. It was one thing to know, or at least assume, that he’d be sweet enough to take your offer in stride. It was another entirely to imagine the Briar Prince’s blank ass face saying something genuinely well-intentioned but harsh like ‘that doesn’t sound like a particularly riveting way to spend my afternoon,’ and immediately crushing your soul into itty bitty bite-sized pieces. It was an all too easy scene to picture, as you’d done at least a hundred times since your heart had set itself on its intentions.

You just—maybe just a bit more time. Yes. One more round of practice (perhaps two), and then you’d be ready. Like the Overblots, or whatever. Those hardly phased you at all anymore! It only took repetitive, mind rending, exposure therapy. That would do it. You just needed the teeniest bit more time to—

“Ah—Child of Man. I wasn’t expecting to see you here so earl—”

You jolted back with a truly heinous squawk and wheeled gracelessly into the stone pillar at your rear. You weren’t exactly a force of nature or anything, but the column hadn’t looked all that stable to begin with. So your frantic flailing took its toll, and the great, rock, beam creaked and fell. The Gargoyle perched atop it (the very one you’d been propositioning for the past half hour or so) crashed to the ground with an echoing BOOM and a cloud of debris fit to choke an elephant.

The poor thing lay in the dirt in pieces, its regal countenance split right down the middle. And Malleus Draconia, noted aficionado of all things carved from stone, looked two steps away from having an actual aneurism. So you hurriedly buried your invitation back in the depths of your brain and quickly went about carrying out the inanimate-object-equivalent of CPR.

“I think I have some super glue back in Ramshackle,” you offered. Even though you knew well enough that he could probably wave his hand and undo the entire thing. But it was the thought that counted, right?

“Supered Glue?” Malleus parroted, his neon eyes darting back and forth between you and the shattered gargoyle like you’d just offered him some mystical panacea. You nodded along and scuttled off in the direction of your dilapidated dorm.

‘Tomorrow,’ you promised yourself, as you rifled through your miscellaneous utilities drawer, tossing around rolls of tape and wads of too-thin elastic bands. ‘Tomorrow I’ll ask him.’

.

.

The next morning, you sat in Potion’s Class with the tacky remnants of last night’s nonsense dried along your fingertips. You sneezed and something ground unpleasantly behind your ear. You reached up to pluck a stray bit of gravel from your hair and flicked it aside.

Normally you tried to give Crewel’s lectures the entirety of your focus, primarily because you respected the man and wanted him to like you. And also, y’know, from the very rational standpoint of not wanting to lose your eyebrows or dignity when an incorrectly brewed potion exploded in your face. But today you were stuck in the clouds, replaying scenario after scenario and wondering what your next step in the whole ‘Ask The Crowned Prince of An Entire Nation Out to Lunch’ situation should be.

Your neck was itching again, and you scrubbed around mindlessly before pulling out another bit of gargoyle debris and tossing it. It bounced harmlessly off Jack’s shoulder.

“Did you get all that?” Your beastman friend asked, beginning the tedious process of organizing your group workstation for the day.

“Oh? Yes. Of course,” you nodded, not having heard a single word of what was going on. You grabbed your little instructions pamphlet for the day and made your way towards your own stool.

Jack turned and narrowed his yellow eyes at you in a way that clearly let you know that that superhuman schnoz of his had sniffed out your bullshit a mile away, but you generally had a better track record than the rest of the first years, so thankfully he let it slide.

Without further ado, you went about heating, and mixing, and tempering. And by the end, the pair of you had a lovely, silver, concoction that popped and fizzled like cola. Professor Crewel paused in his rounds of the rows to stare into your cauldron with an impassive sort of look that could have meant anything from ‘Content’ to ‘Outright Murder.’ Your eyes hastily flickered around the room, but everyone else’s potions looked liked Mercury Sprite too, so you couldn’t have been in too much trouble. You dipped the testing spoon into one of the bubbliest bits and brought it to your mouth to take a teeny sip. It tasted alright, and you smacked your lips as you tried to identify the flavor.

“Well?” The professor droned, crossing his arms over his chest in a fashion that looked entirely unimpressed. “How is it?”

You opened your mouth to reply and nothing came out but static. Literal static. Like you were some overloaded, old, plug—spitting sparks and whiny, high-pitched, nonsense that was most definitely an indication of some sort of fire risk.

Crewel hummed in that self-satisfied sort of way of his—the sort that was only mastered by those who were in the habit of being proven right during every, single, catastrophe.

“The Tickled Tongue recipe is fairly straightforward, you see,” he explained, stepping closer with a languid swishswish of his large overcoat. “It’s difficult to alter without any remarkable change or err. However,” he droned, “it is incredibly similar to the Stone Tongued Elixir. Do you know what the one, unique, ingredient in that brew is in comparison to our assigned project today, Prefect?”

You sighed fuzz.

“Stone,” he said, reaching out to pluck another bit of gravel from your hair.

Crewel brushed his hands against his vest and you debated if it’d be worth it to try jumping out of the window and escape while you still had at least some face.

“I’ve been kind enough to look the other way when you break curfew so that you may continue your… nightly excursions with a certain upperclassman,” he droned, and that open window was looking even more tempting. “But please at least give me the courtesy of cleaning up the evidence before attending my class in the mornings, yes?”

“Yes, sir,” you tried to say, but it just sounded like a busted landline.

.

.

“Hello, Child of Man,” Malleus beamed, his lips curling pleasantly at the corners. His usual trio were flanking his hind, all watching with varying degrees of interest that ranged from sharp curiosity (Lilia) to outright hostility (Sebek).  “Would you care to accompany me for lunch?”

You opened your mouth and all that came out was the fucking AOL dial tone.

Lilia doubled over laughing and Malleus tilted his head at you like a dog listening to a whistle tone.

“Pardon?” He blinked.

“BZZZZZZ,” you said, miserable, and Lilia just laughed harder.

.

.

‘Two days left,’ you reminded yourself miserably. You had just under forty-eight wretched hours to not only complete your initial Date Objective, but also somehow do that whole thing while making up for the ego-crushing failures of your first two failures.  

There was a Spelldrive match after classes today—another attempt for Leona to try and get one up on Malleus’s ‘Hall of Fame Worthy’ record before the pair of them aged out of the competition. And maybe that would be perfect! That was always sort of a Thing in teen movies, right? The big, heart wrenching, confession delivered on the field of whatever sport was in season. The fated couple lit all prettily beneath the glaring overhead lights and artfully drenched in a very timely shower of rain. This whole situation was practically writing itself.

So you tucked yourself into a warm, cozy, sweater fit for the breezy day and inevitable aesthetic downpour, and went to sit out in the stands. Which was your first mistake, because the match was being held on Savanaclaw’s practice field. So immediately you could feel sweat pooling along your lower back and along your brow as the magical, overhead, sunshine did its best to seer the flesh right off your bones. Malleus moved to step out onto the field and you went to wave at him enthusiastically, only to catch sight of the giant pit stains steeped into your stupid sweater. The dark spots opened up like the gaping maw on a beast, determined to derive its entire sustenance from your embarrassment alone. You clamped your arms back down to your sides and immediately began questioning the universe at large. Were you a murderer in a past life? Someone who scammed old ladies out of their pensions? What other reason could there be for the entire fucking cosmos to just perpetually go ‘hey, how about we make things worse.’

The game was probably going well or something, but you were swimming in so much swampy body heat at this point that you were starting to get dizzy.

With a sigh, you pulled the cute, wool, deathtrap over your head and tossed it aside—ruffling your sweat sticky hair for good measure to try and get some airflow going. It wasn’t the most dignified look or whatever, sitting there in only the thin cotton undershirt of your uniform and half drowned in your own secretions, but at least you weren’t in imminent danger of dying of heat stroke anymore. You leaned back on your elbows with another much more contented sigh and gave yourself a moment to let the last of that hot nausea settle.

“Oi! You horned bastard! Watch where you’re—”

There was a swirl of spitting green sparks and you looked back out onto the field just in time to get absolutely decimated by a Spelldrive disc to the face.

.

.

“He really didn’t mean it,” Lilia said, but he was laughing so hard into his fist that it was hard to make out anything beyond merry gurgling. “In fact, he’s really very upset about the whole thing.”

You stared blankly at the off-white walls of the infirmary, wondering how it was possible for one person’s luck to be this bad.

“Where is he?” you asked. Your tongue felt thick and sluggish.

“I don’t think he would appreciate me saying that he was off hiding—pouting, even,” the fey tutted, floating up to sit cross-legged at your eyelevel. “But I don’t believe there’s a much more accurate way of putting it.”

“Why would he be hiding?” you trudged forward again, mouth still entirely uncooperative. “I wanted to ask him something,” you admitted, chronically dejected and acutely brain damaged.

“Did you now?” Lilia grinned, something mischievous and far too knowing lighting his wine-red eyes.

You nodded. You could feel the tug of the bandages around your forehead.

“Well, I’ll ask that you be patient with him,” he sighed fondly, reaching out to pat your cheek. “For all his years, our Prince is still a bit stunted.”

“Oh, please! He’s six and a half feet tall!” you complained.

Lilia laughed again, doubling over in the air and doing a full roll about—like a pill bug.

“Oh, dear,” he snickered, wiping a tear from his eye as he straightened back out to lounge upside down by one of the rafters. “You do deserve each other.”

.

.

This was it. The final countdown. Friday.

The Unbirthday Party was this afternoon, and with God and the Heavens as your witness, you would be dragging Malleus Draconia there with you if it was the last thing you did.

‘The hardest part is supposed to be the rejection,’ you thought bitterly. ‘Not that crap leading up to it. This is bullshit. I want a refund.’

But no, if the Universe was going to be so cruel to you, then you were just going to have to be needlessly paranoid and prepared in advance. You set aside two spare sets of clothing and an umbrella. You packed an entire feast’s worth of provisions in case a fucking hole decided to open up in the ground or something and trap you in a cave for a week. You scribbled a little ‘Would you please go with me to the Unbirthday Party today’ on not one, or two, but three separate notes. Each in a different pocket. And laminated. And, perhaps most daring of all, you walked up to Ace and Deuce that morning with a stiff upper lip and an even stiffer spine.

“I’m going to ask Tsunotarou to come to the Unbirthday Party today,” you told them, fighting the urge to twist your hands into your jacket sleeves.

“What?” Ace choked, just as Deuce stepped in to clobber him over the back of the head and tell you very sweetly that he was sure that the House Warden would appreciate that very much.

“You must like him a lot,” your blue haired friend said, polite but clearly also at least a little unnerved.

“Yeah,” you sighed miserably, thinking of each and every horrible failure as the world at large fought your stupid affections at every turn. “I guess I do.”

So you went about your day like a soldier trudging through a warzone—always at the ready for something unknowable to fuck you over yet again. You looked twice around every corner, always let someone else walk through a doorway first, immediately spritzed Azul in the face with a spray bottle when he tried to start a conversation. It wasn’t paranoia when you knew the universe was out to get you.

The school day was coming to an end and so far you’d managed to avoid any catastrophes. When you caught sight Malleus off in the distance, you had to fight down the sudden swell of dueling panic and hope that blocked off your throat. You made eye contact with the fey prince from across the near empty corridor and he seemed to straighten. You took a deep breath and took one step forward, then another.

“Tsunotarou!” you called cheerfully. “I was wondering if you—”

“FIRE!” Crowley wailed, careening around the corner with all the urgency of someone who very much genuinely cared about the safety of their school and all its inhabitants. Which was outright ridiculous. His glowing, golden, eyes locked on you like you’d been the target of this caterwauling all along, and you wanted to scream. “Ah! My most darling and favorite of Prefects! You have to help! There’s a fire in—”

“No,” you snarled, like some great monster of old. And you watched the Headmaster pale beneath his bird mask. You reached out to pat his shoulder with a pleasantly threatening thump. thump. thump. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to sort it out on your own, sir. Have a lovely afternoon!”

And before you could chicken out, or something else could happen—like a tornado ripping the entire school up at its base and flinging you into Oz—you rushed forward and latched onto Malleus’s sleeve with a wide, panicked, sort of look in your eyes. Hisown eyes went round and wide, but he didn’t pull away, so step one complete.

“Please come to Heartslaybul’s Unbirthday Party with me!” You entreated. “As my date! With me! Together!” you word vomited, clutching at his sleeve even tighter.

“Oh,” Malleus breathed—those sharp, reptilian, pupils of his jumping into something soft and huge that swallowed the green of his irises in a sea of black. A pale, rose, pink crept along the tips of his pointed ears and you could feel your own cheeks blazing like a bonfire.

“Yup,” you nodded lamely, realizing you were still clutching his hand like a starving leper.

“Lilia had mentioned that you might…” he trailed off, gaze sliding to your fingers tangled beside his. “I hadn’t thought that—well…” He cleared his throat and stood to his full height with a puff that almost looked prideful. “Nevertheless,” he grinned, almost shy, and offered you his arm. “Shall we?”

You were going to die. Keel over. That would be the cosmos’s final strike against you. But though your heart beat like a rapid drum in your chest, you didn’t actually collapse in cardiac arrest. Your blood felt warm, but not with fever. It was… You’d actually done it!

You fought the urge to squeal and instead ducked excitedly against Malleus’s side with a secret little fist bump. His arm wound snuggly through yours and you were still too high on the thrill of victory to even consider being embarrassed about it.

“It may surprise you to know,” he said as you walked together towards the Queen of Heart’s Dormitory. “That I actually was attempting to ask something similar of you for this past week as well.”

“Really?” you gaped.

He nodded. “But it seemed as though fate itself was conspiring against me. The first evening went poorly, and then the next day you’d been cursed into silence. And you even ended up injured during one of my attempts.”

“The Spelldrive disc?” you blinked.

“Unfortunately,” Malleus sighed, leading you towards the familiar rose gardens. Which were lovely as always, and perfectly well painted for the afternoon’s festivities, and—

And… also on fire.

“Well what do you know…” you mumbled as you watched a furious Riddle chase a screeching Ace through the flaming fields. Trey had his head in his hands. Cater was filming the whole thing with an artful smear of ash drawn across his cheek.

Malleus made a low rumble of discontentment and you immediately swung the pair of you around to start heading back towards the Mirror Chamber.

“Not to worry!” you beamed, pointedly jostling the full picnic lunch in your bag. Sure, it hadn’t ended up being a gaping hole that had dragged you straight into the bowels of the abyss, but hey. Hellfire was hellfire. “I came prepared.”

“So did I,” Malleus smirked, the points of his canines peaking out of his lower lip. He twisted his fingers and the pair of you were surrounded in puffs of floating, sparkling, green lights.

And despite the Universe technically, yet again, having come out on top and flipped you and your date the proverbial middle finger, you couldn’t find it in yourself to be too upset at all.

.

.

[pluckyredhead]

Character Profile: Gregorio de la Vega and Hugh Dawkins (Extraño and Tasmanian Devil)

I was thinking that it's been too long since I've done a character profile, and then I realized that I don't think I've ever posted about DC's CANONICALLY MARRIED, HISTORICALLY SIGNIFICANT DILFS, a.k.a. Wizard Daddy and his furry husband. I'm so sorry. I've failed you all.

ANYWAY MEET GREGORIO AND HUGH:

Gregorio (on the right) is the first out superhero in comics, ever, from before the Comics Code even allowed gay characters. Hugh is DC's third gay superhero (Pied Piper came out a year before him) and the first canonically queer member of the Justice League. See? Historically significant!

CONTENT WARNING: Homophobia, racial stereotypes, attempted suicide, HIV/AIDS, and some particularly gory fridging (Hugh got better).

Gregorio de la Vega first appeared in Millennium #2. Now, they never actually use the word "gay" in the eight issue Millennium miniseries, but, well...

No, seriously, despite the fact that they never use words like "gay" or "homosexual" in the pages of the comic itself, the art and dialogue make Gregorio's sexuality very clear - and in case that wasn't enough, the editors do use the word "gay" in the letter columns.

Millennium was an event in which the Guardians and the Zamarons identified a group of diverse humans to be "the vanguard of human evolution" and gave them all superpowers. Gregorio is hanging out in a cantina in Peru when they show up to give him the news:

He's calling himself a fruit do you get it??? Honestly I love him so much. He's so extra.

I want to emphasize again how groundbreaking Gregorio is. Like, yes, obviously he is a raging stereotype and arguably a problematic one. But this was 1988. The Comics Code Authority would not be updated to permit queer characters until the following year (probably because of Gregorio, in large part). The fact that he existed at all, and not cloaked in layers upon layers of subtext, was a huge step forward. No, he's not perfect, but when you're the only canonically queer superhero in mainstream comics, that's an impossible ask.

Anyway. Gregorio's not super into the idea of being a main character at first, but after a self-loathing suicide attempt (Wally saves him), he decides fuck it, why not be a superhero, and joins the team that will become the New Guardians. He's granted his superpowers, which are generic magic ones, and takes the codename Extraño.

Unfortunately, in the spinoff series that followed Millennium, New Guardians, things get...uh...kind of rough. By which I mean that a) the original writer left, b) the new writer dialed Gregorio's gay stereotyping waaay back in favor of, um, Latino stereotyping instead (he stops calling everyone "honey" and starts calling them "amigo"), and c) the team is attacked by the Hemo-Goblin, an HIV-positive white supremacist vampire. Yes, really. It's fucking awful.

The Hemo-Goblin scratches Gregorio and bites Jet, a Black woman on the team. They both subsequently test positive for HIV. There are many letters from fans pointing out that it's nearly impossible to contract HIV that way, but the editors insisted that actually it was totally plausible, and then implied that probably Gregorio already had HIV because he was gay (even though he had tested negative earlier in the book). Then Jet dies. Again: it's fucking awful.

New Guardians was canceled soon after that and Gregorio pretty much disappeared. By the 2000s, he was viewed as basically an embarrassment, if anyone even remembered him at all: so stereotypical, so flamboyant, so offensive, so cringe. In the Love Is Love anthology, everyone's least favorite human Dan DiDio wrote a story where he claimed that Extraño died of AIDS back in the 80s, which...literally wasn't true??? The publisher of the goddamn company and even he assumed that the Cringey Stereotype must have died the Stereotypical Death.

And then in 2016, Gregorio got a makeover, courtesy of Steve Orlando and Fernando Blanco:

HELLO.

Yeah, so Gregorio is a silver fox now who hangs out with Apollo and Midnighter, does wizard shit, and lives in Lima with his husband and their adopted daughter. SO LET'S TALK ABOUT THAT HUSBAND:

Could you tell he's Australian???

Hugh Dawkins, a.k.a. Tasmanian Devil (no relation to the Looney Tunes character except that they are both owned by WB and, obviously, Tasmanian) actually first appeared in the Super Friends tie-in comics to the cartoon of the same name, in 1977, as part of a plotline where the Justice League teamed up with a bunch of international superheroes.

As you can see above, Hugh, like the other international superheroes, is a massive stereotype. He's also a were-Tasmanian devil who can grow really big, like many Australians. (Even though he's been around for 50 years, there are very few panels of Hugh in human form, but if you need to know for reasons of all the fanfic I hope you are about to write: he's blond.)

In the late 80s, Hugh and the other international superheroes from this story were incorporated into the main DCU as a team called the Global Guardians. They became occasional supporting characters to the various Justice League International books, and some of them joined various Justice League branches. Others had random cameos here and there, and in a 1992 issue of Justice League Quarterly, Hugh's random cameo involved casually mentioning that he is gay:

Again, this is a big deal. It's only 1992, meaning the only canonically queer superheroes in mainstream comics are Extraño (1988), Pied Piper (1991), and Northstar (1992). And this is a Justice League book. AND IT'S 1992. When Hugh talks about things being hateful for gays, he's likely referring to the virulent homophobia in Tasmania at the time (homosexuality wouldn't be decriminalized there for another five years).

Which means it was also a big deal that Hugh went on to join the European branch of the Justice League shortly after this, making him the first canonically queer member of any branch of the League. Of course, his sexuality was never mentioned during the year and a half he was on the team...or in any comic...until 2006. And then it was a vaguely homophobic joke involving Hal Jordan. But still!

(There is a panel that I SWEAR exists from the JLI era of Hugh describing a total bullshit version of his origin which granted him "the power of 106 Tasmanian devils!" which I cannot for the life of me find but was the first thing that made me fall in love with this character. If you stumble across it, please let me know what issue number it is?)

Hugh then had the misfortune of next appearing...sort of...in the infamously awful Cry for Justice in 2009. I say sort of because it's revealed that the villain, Prometheus, has skinned him and turned him into a rug. So we only see his skin. The late 2000s were really, really rough, guys.

However, a year later he appeared in the Starman/Congorilla special and he was totally fine? Don't ask me how. Gorillas were involved. The issue ended with the possibility of him and Starman (the Mikaal Tomas version) hooking up, but then the New 52 happened, so that never came to anything.

...BUT WHO CARES, BECAUSE NOW HE'S MARRIED TO GREGORIO AND THEY HAVE A DAUGHTER AND THEY ARE IN LOVE.

The nickname! The clutching! I'm dying.

Did I mention the canon threesome with John Constantine?

HUGH LOVES HIS RIDICULOUS HUSBAND SO MUCH. Tragically the JLQ only showed up in these two stories but all the baby queer superheroes in the DCU call Gregorio "Tio" and it makes me want to weep. HE WAS ALL ALONE IN 1988 AND NOW HE HAS A FAMILY. I AM VERKLEMPT. 😭😭😭

Unfortunately Gregorio and Hugh are pretty much relegated to occasionally appearing in Pride specials these days, but maybe if we all wish really hard, DC will let Steve Orlando or Andrew Wheeler write a miniseries about how they met and fell in love. I think Nick Robles should draw it.

ANYWAY I LOVE THESE HISTORICALLY SIGNIFICANT HUSBANDS, THE END.

[sxeraphfic]

what are your nsfw hcs for donnie? 🤭

TW/NSFW - DONNIE DARKO HCS

Thank you for the ask dear! 

And anyone else who's reading this, if you happen to take a liking to one of my hcs and want me to write a fic/drabble on it just send it in the ask box <3 

A/N: these hcs are general nsfw hcs.. If anyone's interested in cough dead dove and darker nsfw hcs.. My asks are ready for that question :9

Donnie is a socially awkward young man who attempts to hide it through sarcasm and long intellectual rants, the truth is he's never been exactly.. Popular in either the friends or relationship department. That being said, his fantasies usually involve intimacy. In other words, he's totally a horny guy and def has frequent dirty thoughts. And anyone who's watched the deleted scene between him and his therapist would see that.  

What are my personal hc’s for him?  

I think donnie is most likely into some more obscure and weird kinks/interests while simultaneously being kind of vanilla. 

He’d be happy to try anything out really as long as it isn't causing you overt harm that's long lasting.  

He’s probably gentle and shy about sex at first with you, but as time goes on he’ll get more and more into rougher sex   

he enjoys cumming on your face, stomach, thighs and inside you, obviously.

Rough sex with him wouldn't be super crazy bondage or anything but he's definitely into slight smacking/spanking and manhandling. If you're shorter than him it's probably a guarantee he secretly gets off on it or even occasionally admits it to you during it.  

He’s probably read a lot of playboy-esque magazines and has seen images involving tied/cuffed hands, if he's feeling brave he'd be happy to go either way with doing it. 

I can imagine him being into nipple/breast play as well, tbh whether you have a flat chest or A cups or DD cups he's gonna feel them up. He enjoys biting, licking and sucking them too.   

tummy kisses

def loves to give hickies/love bites aswell, specifically on your neck and thighs. He likes if you give them too.

Donnie’s favourite body parts would include; stomach, thighs, neck and chest.   

Donnie's favourite positions may include; doggy style, spooning, missionary, breeding/flatiron and standing.  

I think he would enjoy grinding and dry humping ALOT, he's a bit of a freak and enjoys the forced lack of stimulation from it if he's grinding or dry humping against you. Seeing you use him for pleasure through grinding drives him absolutely crazy, I think it's one of the few examples where a little bit of a soft dom side of him comes out. especially if you're needy during it.    

Thigh fucking? Thigh fucking. Your thighs are not safe.    

Finger sucking as well, both ways.

He's def at least a teeny bit into mommy dom stuff lets be real. Call him a good boy, edge him and control what he's allowed to do, he likes it.  

Def a head giver, sure he likes to receive. But the thought of getting in between your thighs and feeling them crush his face or feeling you push him away makes his cheeks flush and his pants tighten.  

Normal donnie? Cat boy. During sex donnie? A total puppy boy.

That being said Donnie is kind of a sexual chameleon, he can go from soft dom behaviour to being honestly kind of subby in seconds.  

He has a slight humiliation kink, which ties into his more subby side. If you make fun of him or tease him during sex it'll just make his dick 100x more hard.  

Don't forget to praise him though, the poor thing has hardly been complimented or praised throughout his life so he’ll appreciate it and fantasise about you doing it.

Donnie likes it if you act desperate or needy, or if you plead for him.

He's definitely going to ramp up the teasing aswell during it, he likes to humiliate you just as much as you do to him.

Donnie enjoys casual clothing during sex if that makes sense, don't get him wrong he finds lingerie beautiful. But something about seeing his partner in nothing but a t-shirt and panties or topless with just pyjama pants on gets him reeeeal hot.  

Donnie may partake in “risky” sex, he gets a high off of doing inappropriate things semi-publically and enjoys the idea of almost getting caught. Eg; in changerooms, bathrooms, cinemas etc.   

Donnie is vocal during sex, he grunts and huffs and mumbles from how good it feels.

Donnie is not a dirty talker, and he doesn't use pet names super often either. But he might let a tiny bit of dirty talk slip out if he's getting really into it.   

Remember at the start when I said he could be into some “more obscure stuff” ? well here's a FEW possibilities, stockings, choking (towards him), dacryphilia (tears), edging, lowkey feet too i'm sorry guys. There's some more stuff but that might have to be for a dead dove hc list LOL.

That's it for now! Maybe ill do a part two for general nsfw hcs for him one day but i've run out of ideas. I hope you all enjoyed <3

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

[slashersgostabbystabstab]

Headcanons for how the killers' would react to you trying to bite them! (I've never sent one of these before so I hope it's what you're looking for ^^)

All good! Thank you so much for the request!

I obviously won’t do such a handful of killers since I’m only writing for 4 specific killers right now, but I’ll add an additional one I thought would be interesting. I hope this is what you were looking for 🥲 I tried-

Singularity

Hux hates being touched, especially by a human. So safe to say he will NOT appreciate such actions

“Keep your human slobber off”

Would advise you to step away, but he’s already using his left claw to grip onto your face and push you away from him

“Do not attempt that again” Consent and notice is important to him mkay

More attempts will result in you being kicked out of the Huxlee Caracas III; if you’re his S/O at this point he’s still keeping you in his vicinity

“Are you trying to make me angry?” Calm down there Wesker

He doesn’t entirely mind it if given notice and he wants to get just a tad bit more intimate

Dredge

It doesn’t really perturb Druanee, it mostly is just perplexed and curious. 

It hopes its amalgamation of flesh is to your taste, if this is why you’re doing this. Druanee knows you can’t eat it, but it’s amusing seeing such things

With an unexpected nonchalance, it allows biting to continue if you want it to

Just don’t be surprised if something from the void reaches out and gives you a nibble of its own. Druanee totally does not know about that. 

This will happen a lot more; another conversation about boundaries unless you’re into the surprise love bites 

Blight

Definitely finds it strange when it happens, because you will manage to get a bite in seeing as he might be distracted doing something

Makes him wonder if you're seeking attention...

Talbot just shrugs it off and doesn't think very much about it. Until you do it again. Now he's really setting his pen down and looks at you

He can't talk so you're getting a look...can't really tell what emotion is present on there. He tries to communicate that it's not the best idea to bite him (but he is secretly curious to see what would happen if- Talbot No)

Definitely do not bite him. Not a good idea. Nope.

Besides his scientific tendencies I think he might actually like getting bitten

Deathslinger

Will stop what's he's doing and turn to you. Pretty astonished honestly

"Why are we biting, sweetheart?"

Wouldn't really be bothered by it and would instead find it endearing, just tell him first please. He's probably working with some tools and can't have ya getting hurt

Actually would enjoy receiving surprise bites; unless...you're someone random than what the-

Does appreciate if you kiss where you give him little bites~

Don't expect any bites from him however, at least...not at random like you might be doing

Xenomorph (take this one as you will)

If you’re trying to give Big Chap a bite, it means you’ve grown a close enough bond to be physically allowed that close to them

However, strong emphasis on bite. They’re not exactly going to allow it. At first

Before you can land any kind of nibble, Big Chap will bite you first

They tease you, playfully scare you with false bites. Until the day they finally decide to chomp 

Just like Druanee you will get many surprise (love) bites (which may hurt a bit more than what Druanee gives). Eventually though, they will soften their bites 

Sometimes the inner mouth is what will give the bites, those are more like nibbles and can be considered much more affectionate

You will be allowed to give the your own bites at some, because Big Chap will expect the favor to be returned (what a hypocrite)

Fun fact: The Xenomorph in DBD is obviously from the first ALIEN movie and is named Big Chap. Although I typically call Xenos by she/her pronouns (it's a joke but they all have potential to be a Queen) I went with something more neutral because the name implies something male…trans Xeno? Idk I just really like ALIEN

[queenkurokawa]

bonten manjiro x fem reader

warnings: smut. cursing. physical stuff. finishing inside. fluff. angst. timeskip - bonten mikey.

an: after finally forever i am finished w the bonten mikey fic that was request from way back and now it is here in existence - hope you enjoy / are pleased with it love! 💙

~

bonten mikey never took it easy on your body. especially after not seeing you. tonight was possibly the worst of all. after accidentally and absent-minded you forgot to turn on your ringtone when he tried calling you suddenly after one of his bonten discussions to check in on you. bad mistake. he had busted through your front entrance with beyond intense rage when you flew out the shower -quickly covering yourself with a white linen fast when you darted through the door to see him standing in front of you in what almost resembled madman. ' manjiro- w ..wha - ' he cut you off instantly with his sweaty rough palm against your trembling face in fear unknowing of what would happen. 'what.. the fck !.. - is wrong with you?! ' he screamed as he slammed his free hand balled furiously against the wall adjacent to your body making you boil in panic. 'manjiro. please. calm down, it is ok .. - ' speaking quitely to him you tried to attempt to cradle his shaking cheeks in your hands. you knew what this was. he was scared. manjiro acted usually so calm and composed but there were few moments when you witnessed his complete and total breakdowns - his times where he just let out everything and let the anxiety win strongly against his full will. you knew damn well he was in a panic over you and couldn't be angry for his actions in that moment even if would mean having to plaster the wall the next morning. 'babe- its alright. i'm here.. i did not mean - to not to answer your calls ..i just was in the shower- nn ! -' before you knew it he was kissing your lips with love filled hypnotic passion. you were here. nothing could go wrong - not with him around. he hated leaving you sometimes even for multiple days on end when he'd have to leave the country for bonten work and other such things and the thought alone sickened his stomach. sure - he always had sanzu always posted outside your apt whenever he was out if town, much to his pink haired partners dismay- there was never a moment that he wasn't thinking about what could be going wrong whenever he stepped foot away from your presence and -at least in this moment .. right now there was not a damn thing that could take him away - from being with you -

~~

manjiro fucking your body like like he's possessed. i mean - he is insane. he forced your hands back pinning them above your head obviously avoiding your whines and whimpers for him and pushing himself in your wet cunt before any words could form in your mind he went feral when heard you moaning from him ' unh .. babee-! 'making his way much further inside you than he should be doing making you cry out his name loudly. ' fck- me manjiro - ah! .' nothing would hold this man from bringing the devil out when he was forcing his cock over and over again until the warmth of that place he needed took over and stole him from reality. it was an abyss one you only could deliver him into - manjiro wanted it all. making you only his was the best decision he could have had ever made in his life. grabbing onto your waist he placed his mouth over your neck biting down almost as if he was in need of your sweet nectare pushing himself further into his abyss making you cum so dmn fast you swore it was the first time. ' - babe! - ah ! ' swelling around him your vagina drenched his belly and was dripping all down your own legs from whatever magic he was working your pussy into and you pleaded with him so hard not to stop - 'babyy ..! ah! .. manjiro! - ' mikey cut you off with his tender lips in a sharp embrace to your moaning mouth. 'nnngh .. unh-nghh ..' you heard him groan wildly as he began fucking you harder and harder sighing into you with his sexy voice - all the way pressed in your hair from how close he was about to orgasm and the motions rocking the bed of how he was pleasuring himself with you with such force and strength from his biceps and toned build so chaoticly when you felt yourself starting to cum all over again before the feeling of the wood snapping beneath you giving out completely with the mattress folded in half against the floor as he went on relentlessly aggressively pounding his hard cock in you in a murderous fixation, thrashing your throbbing cumming core with such fine work you did not give no cares .. at all. 'manjiro- .. ah!- fck .. yess! - ' your voice sounded so beautiful and pleasing to him and he could not stand to pull himself out when in some dream like state he gave out to your serene voice against him like a melody to his body. the sweat from your panting chest against his skin mixing into his felt like a drug and he grabbed your chin into a hungry lip lock- manjiro needed you. every last part of you. your body. your lips. your voice. your smile. your comfort. your embrace. you were his life - the perfect person for him that he could have imagined in a partner and to his surpise you offered it happily he had thought to a piece of shit like him - without question. he had to do better for you. for your future. and maybe even his own.

©izaneko - all rights reserved.

please do not copy / reupload or modify my writing.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Ohai! How about probably a full HC of the M6 as larger-than-life folk heroes like Paul Bunyan and John Henry? Assuming you haven't done this already ofc

Thanks!!

The Arcana HCs: When M6 become folk heroes

Julian

Absolutely living for it, for all the wrong reasons

Does it make him absolutely giddy to overhear tall tales in the pubs he doesn't frequent about the famous Dr Devorak? Absolutely

Does he immediately jump up and correct whoever's talking if he feels like they're painting him in too much of a positive light? ... yes

He's not supposed to be some kind of purehearted, idealistic hero, with a noble focus on the greater good! He's supposed to be a dastardly, dangerous fugitive. (Because that's totally what he is)

You don't know how many times you've watched him go through the following phases, in this specific order:

Phase 1: perk up with his classic roguish grin when he overhears someone bring up the infamous Doctor Devorak

Phase 2: turn bright red and attempt to hide his wobbly face in his tankard when the storyteller starts praising his (very real) good points and recounting his noble deeds

Phase 3: finish his drink, knock over at least one furniture item as he leaps to his feet, and attempt to spread some kind of rumor that the doctor in question is far more questionable than assumed

Phase 4: grab you and run when the storyteller gets mad

Asra

They're genuinely lost about the whole situation

He's not stupid. He's well aware that he practices magic with a kind of ease and experience that's well above the average skill level

(And, if you let them continue, they're more than happy to wax lyrical about how impressive of a magician you are, too)

Yes, he played an instrumental role in thwarting the Devil's plans to take over the human realm not once but twice, and yes, he does associate closely with several public figures. However -

They. Don't. Like. Being. Perceived

Seriously, do you have any idea how hard it is for him to be mysterious when that's all people are talking about??

At this point, they've concocted multiple aliases (for them and you) with names, personalities, accents, and backstories to throw strangers of their trail. They'd like to give the fame back now

Will still bring it up in private conversations with you if it makes you laugh or gives him a potential edge

What, you don't feel like a snack? What if the Famed Magician Asra conjures one for you from a bridge of rainbows growing neon cloud fruits? Would you want to try a bite then???

Nadia

To put it bluntly - she's used to it

She grew up in a very visible, very influential royal family. Strangers on the street knew her name before she was even old enough to say it out loud herself. She's well acquainted with fame

While she's not overly fond of it, being a private person herself, she had no qualms about using the perks that come with it

She has an idea for a new movement in Vesuvia to revitalize the flooded district. Sure, she could fund programs from behind the scenes, or the Great Countess Nadia could make a speech

Of course, playing into this public role means that the people who adore her feel more freedom approaching her to express their admiration, which can feel stifling at times

Nadia tends to deflect the enthusiastic praise by talking you up as her famed, esteemed, talented partner, often whispering a half-felt apology as you have to share the sudden attention with her

Hates it when her family hears and repeats tales about her

One time, Navra approached her with a rumor about the Countess's incredible physical prowess to convince her to dance together, and Nadia almost banished her from Vesuvia in response

Muriel

He hates it as much as he expected to, but right next to it is a sweetness he didn't expect at all

It's not the first time he's had a reputation. It's not the first time he's overhead his name casually mentioned in stranger's conversations, or seen people's eyes light up with recognition as he walks by in the streets. Last time, though, it was as "The Scourge"

Now it's with his own name

Now, though he still gets uncomfortable comments on his size and strength, there's an undertone of safety and trusting appreciation instead of fear and morbid awe. They think he's a hero

As sweet as it is, though, he still prefers not to be noticed and he'd much rather be able to walk through the crowd like a perfectly unremarkable, undetectable presence

Which he tries to do anyways. He continues to ignore most of the strangers who come up to him (unless they're kids. those he has more a of a tolerance for, even if he's completely exhausted after)

All in all, he minds it less than he expected. Now if you would kindly go ahead with that disguising-spell-glamor thing that you do, he'd love to hide behind you on your next trip to the market

Portia

It's not that she's uncomfortable as much as she's surprised

You're telling her that she's famous? Well-known? And not in the context of "Julian Devorak's little sister" or "the Countess Nadia's handmaiden"? She's famous as "Just Portia"? Inconceivable!

If she sits down with you and really processes it verbally for a couple hours (which is a common occurrence in general), it does technically make sense

Like, she did play an instrumental role in taking down what could only amount to as an eldritch god-like being, that being her Aunt, and successfully avoid the collapse of the realms

But it still doesn't compute. She's Portia. She works at the Palace and tends to her garden and lovingly punches her brother. Oh, and proudly flaunts you as her partner, but that goes without saying

It's genuinely the only thing you've ever seen make her act socially awkward. It's the one topic she can't make a conversation out of

And it's insanely endearing. As soon as she overhears a tale of her exploits, she's flushing bright red, stammering, and making wide-eyed eye contact with you like a confused cat

So, so, so delightfully easy to tease about it

Lucio

Oh, he's loving it

He's already been pretty well-known for a large chunk of his life. Before he was "the Arcana's last hope!" (his words, not yours) he was the Count of Vesuvia, and before that he was Spada's mentee

That doesn't change the visible thrill he feels every time he's reminded that he's famous, or the addictive boost to his ego

Does he feed into it every chance he gets? Absolutely. He has blown his personal budget multiple times now, covering the tab of everyone in the local pub when he hears his name praised

This is why you keep your finances separate

What does catch up to him, after a bit, is how different the stories about him now are from the stories about him before

He used to hear words like "bloodthirsty", or "ostentatious", or "merciless" - all of which he didn't mind being described as!

But now he hears words like "generous", or "brave", or "kind", and it makes him want to hear those words about him from people who know him personally and not just strangers who've heard his deeds

He wants to hear it from you. And from the party you two partnered up with yesterday. Maybe even from Morga, one day

[tangledinink]

Well! It's not a Monday, and it's been a hot second. BUT!!! :3c Here! Chapter 27 of I'm Sorry, Teenage Mutant What Now? is here! Raph and Casey finally get to have some long overdue bonding time together. Read it on ao3 or below the cut.

[ prev ]

“Why the hell is she ALWAYS HERE?!” Donnie cried in complaint, just barely twisting out of the path of a kunai’s bite, twisting backwards to retreat from his opponent’s assault.

“Great question. Honestly, it seems like you’re kind of obsessed with us. Sort of embarrassing,” Leo chirped in reply, grinning big as he spun into the fray, leaping in defense of his twin. The Foot Ninja easily dodged him and the sweep of his odachi, all but spitting at him in reply.

“DIE.”

“Damn, okay. Touchy,” Leo muttered.

Their opponent shrieked in response, throwing herself at her enemy, but was easily rebuffed by their father, jerking forward to shove her away from his children. Raph would admit she was an impressive fighter, but she was certainly no match for their dad. It took almost no time at all for him to pin her down to the ground, and Raph was just beginning to get a sense of deja vu when Leo heaved a great sigh.

“At least there’s only one of--”

“WHY? WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT?!” Donnie squawked, whipping around to absolutely glare at their twin. 

And god, you would not imagine what happened just a few seconds later.

Raph managed to punch out two Foot Clan ninjas and throw another through a storefront before he came about five centimeters from being knifed, and he was finally forced to seek temporary refuge, ducking behind the cover of a nearby sunglasses kiosk to catch his breath and attempt to get his shit together.

C’mon, Raph, focus. You got this. Everyone’s counting on you. You just gotta keep it together, and figure out where the Dark Armor piece is so we can grab it and get out without anyone getting--

“Raph!” 

His younger brother’s excited, breathless cry severed his frantic train of thoughts, and his head bobbed upward just in time to watch Leo rush over to join him-- nearly skidding out in his rush. “I think I have a plan--”

Raph froze.

He swore he felt his entire body seize for just a second, his heart clenching up tight in his chest as though someone had just reached through him and grabbed it with ice cold hands.

“No,” he snapped in reply.

“What?!” Leo protested. “You didn’t even let me expl—“

“NO,” Raph hissed, harder this time. He didn’t let himself look back over at Leo, because he knew that he would just glare at him. And he knew that it would just make his body freeze up even more.

“Raph, I promise this will work, it’s—“

“Leo, STOP. I said no! What part of that don’t you get!?” Raph snarled and there was this horrendous tickling crawl running up and down his spine like there was a damn millipede under his skin, and he didn’t want to fight with Leo, so he just—

Ran.

He had to get back out into the fray sooner or later, anyway. They couldn’t just hide forever.

He didn’t wanna be angry at Leo. He didn’t wanna take things out on him. It wasn’t… his fault. Exactly. Totally? Maybe? And he didn’t wanna think about who’s fault it was, anyway, so this was easier.

He didn’t have to think about whether or not he was angry at Leo if he was taking it out on someone else.

And luckily, they were literally surrounded by evil ninjas right now. So. That was actually pretty convenient.

And yeah, okay, sure, there were a lot of them. But here’s the thing-- Raph was no scientist, but he had crunched the numbers, and he was pretty sure their dad was badass enough to count as at least two dozen ninjas, which meant their odds were actually pretty good. 

And if their dad was at least two dozen, Raph couldn’t just sit back and let himself be just one.

There were a lot of Foot Clan soldiers, yes. But they had shown up here for a reason, and it was important. And this time, they weren’t just gonna retreat. Raph knew what was at stake-- they were gonna get what they came for.

(That’s what he had told himself at the time, anyway. That was the mantra in his head the entire time-- roaring through the fray alongside his family.)

Raph had been to this mall before. In fact, he’d been to this mall lots of times before. It was overall unremarkable, but the one thing that had always stood out to Raph was the elevator. And this was because Raph had always HATED it.

He didn’t want to say afraid, per se, because that would involve him openly admitting that he was afraid of the elevator. But really, could you blame him? It wasn’t that elevators in general frightened him, it was that THIS elevator frightened him. He remembered visiting this mall back when he was small with the rest of his family and begging his Dad to let them take the escalators instead.

Because how in the world could a glass elevator possibly be safe?! And who the heck would even enjoy that!? Let alone think it was a good idea to build one?!

His first thought he had upon his body careening through the glass, shattering on impact, having been sent flying after a particularly large, brutish member of the Foot slammed into his side, was “see? I was right. This was a bad idea.”

It was pretty much the only thought he had, actually, his brain a bit too caught up in the fact that they had just been thrown through an elevator shaft to really process anything else right away.

Thank god the rest of his body didn’t need his brain in order to react.

He didn’t need conscious thought to tell him to grab onto the remaining metal edge of the elevator, clinging to the closest thing he had to solid ground with his arm as the rest of his body dangled over open air.

(What floor were they on again? The third? The fifth?)

He also didn’t need conscious thought to tell him to grab onto the girl that had been thrown with him— the girl he had been locked into combat with about ten seconds ago.

With his free arm, he bundled her up as close as he possibly could to himself, and he hung on tight.

And for half of a second, they kind of just… hung there. Raph’s feet scrabbled against the smooth surface of the panel of glass below them, surrounded on all sides by thick glass and metal save for the hole just above them that Raph was now hanging onto for dear life.

He could feel little pieces of shattered glass falling down the back of his shirt and tickling at his skin.

He was vaguely aware of screaming from up above him, and while he could pick out his family’s voices amongst that of strangers, he couldn’t quite tell what they were saying. It was hard to hear anything over the heartbeat in his ears.

He glanced down at the girl shoved up against his side. For every bit he was hanging onto her, she was hanging onto him just as desperately, fistfuls of his clothing clenched up in her fingers.

Her eyes were so big.

“Hang on,” he heard himself saying, kind of distantly in the background. “Just hang on. I’ll get us back up.”

And almost as soon as he spoke, her eyes narrowed again.

About four things happened in very quick succession over the following five seconds.

The first was the girl hoisting herself upwards by her grip on him, twisting around with shaking fingers so she could draw a knife from her belt and lunge towards the arm that was not currently wrapped around her.

The second was a flash of crimson light overhead, tickling around the edges of the elevator car that currently sat about three stories above them.

The third thing was a horrific, shrieking groan of metal, followed by a sickening snap.

And the fourth was Raph letting go of his hold on the elevator shaft.

---

Casey was honestly a bit surprised to find that she had, in fact, not been killed in the ensuing fall.

She didn’t think she was even… hurt. At least not badly.

Now that the world had stopped spinning, she began to take quiet inventory, a soft groan escaping her as she strained to gather her bearings again. When she moved, shards of shattered glass fell off of her like snow, joining the mounds of it underfoot with little clicks and clatters. Upon moving, she also realized that there was still an arm wrapped around her, pressed up so tight around her middle that it was nearly hard to breathe. But it wasn’t quite painful.

She had just fallen about four stories. And yet, she was pretty sure she wasn’t even seriously injured. No broken bones, at least. Everything could still move. She could feel her arms, her legs, her toes. She could still feel all her fingers.

She had heard her clan members yelling before. Heard the command to cut the cable. If the fall didn’t kill her, then being crushed by a falling elevator car really should have. It should have killed them both. It was supposed to kill them both.

But it didn’t. They were both alive.

Because the person she had been attempting to murder, who still had an arm wrapped around her middle, hunched over her as if to shield her, currently had them both shoved into the very corner of the elevator shaft, shoved up against the concrete walls of the lower level they now resided in.

They hadn’t been crushed because he was holding up the elevator car that should have killed them, his arms encrusted in shimmering, crystalline red light.

He was also definitely not a human anymore.

“Are you okay?” He bit out, his voice tight and strained but still soft and wobbling with concern, and Casey gaped rather than answering. He shifted slightly, readjusting his stance. His upper body was braced up against one corner of the metal panel that made up the bottom of the elevator car— creating just enough of a pocket for the two of them to take refuge in, tented beneath the wreckage up above. His long, alligator-like tail shifted as he moved, sweeping through the broken glass.

Shhhh shhhhh.

“Oh my god,” Casey responded, her eyes wide. “… You’re actually a mutant turtle.”

“What?” He bit out, his eyes just barely flickering over to her, and Casey quickly bit her tongue.

“Nothing,” she spat, bristling slightly. Jesus christ, why was she talking to him? What the hell was she even doing…?

Come on, Recruit, get it together. Focus. You’re not dead. You didn’t die. So you still have a job to do.

Though her hands were shaking horribly, she lurched a bit to grab for her belt, only to realize with a dawning horror that her kunai were no longer there. I must have lost them in the fall… She bristled for a moment, wriggling from the other’s grip just enough so that she could back away— pressing herself up against the cold concrete wall. The space they had was incredibly limited, however, and the distance she could put between them was… minimal, to say the least.

She could feel her heart beating in her chest as she patted herself down again, and then a third time, not daring to take her eyes off the enemy but at the same time searching frantically. 

She was unarmed.

And he was… a giant mutant reptile.

(And, look, she hadn’t exactly thought that Draxum was… lying, per se, but oh my lord. Seriously?)

She didn’t take her eyes off of him. And he didn’t take his eyes off of her.

“Hey, uh,” he shifted slightly beneath the weight of the elevator, wincing a bit at the press. Shattered glass shivered softly beneath him as his feet moved. “Can you, uh, not stab Raph, please…? ‘Cause that’s gonna make holding this thing up… a lot harder…”

… Ah. She supposed he had a point.

A little voice in her head said that that didn’t matter. The benefit of eliminating a member of the Hamato Clan weighed far heavier than the loss of her life would to the well-being of the Clan. Killing him, and, in turn, herself would still measure out to be a win at the end of it all.

She should kill him.

And herself.

… But she… didn’t have her kunai anyway, right? So… 

Perhaps she… wouldn’t.

She was still waiting to see if her heart rate was going to slow down any time soon, finding herself a bit annoyed with how rapidly it was still banging away in her ears, the skin there throbbing as blood raced through her veins. She kept sucking in long, steadying, calming breaths, trying to push it down, but the adrenaline had not yet run its course, it seemed. 

“I… Will not stab you,” she finally said, narrowing her eyes suspiciously, her body still tight and tense, muscles coiled. “IF… you do not make any attempts to harm me.”

She had no weapons, but he was one. Even if he was holding up a fucking elevator right now.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” he wheezed, his voice caught somewhere between a shaking grunt and a laugh, and she scowled. “You’re not hurt—?” He prodded once more.

“Don’t ask me that,” she snapped, bristling in response and clenching her jaw. She didn’t understand what benefit he thought he would reap by pretending to be concerned. She wasn’t that stupid.

And if he actually was concerned, and it wasn’t an act, then it simply meant that he was the stupid one, and nothing else.

“Alright, okay…!” He bit out, once again adjusting his grip slightly, rolling one shoulder forward slightly to shift the weight he was carrying from one side over the other. “… It’ll be alright. My family is… gonna come get us. Any second…”

“You don’t know that,” she scoffed.

“They will,” he insisted, though now his eyes shifted away— staring hollow at the corner of the little pocket they were now trapped inside of. Casey could just barely pick out the movement of his lips and tongue, ghosting some sort of whisper to himself in between his heaves of breath. Seven, eight, nine, ten…

Counting. He was counting to himself. From one to ten, and then again, and again.

“You’re hurt,” Casey said— not really asking, but rather stating. 

“’S just heavy,” he deflected. “… ‘M fine. Raph’s sturdy.” 

Raph. Right… Short for Raphael. She knew their names. Of course she did, she just… hadn’t known their nicknames until now.

Or rather, hadn’t thought of them. What would she ever care what they called each other? What they answered to?... 

… But she supposed she couldn’t actually disagree.

He was sturdy before, when he was a human.

She wasn’t sure she could find the words to describe how absolutely immovable he appeared to her now. It was equal parts impressive and absolutely infuriating. 

God. She hated to fucking look at him. Especially now, like this. 

It somehow felt like a goddamn threat. He was holding an elevator up over her head, hunched over to provide a shelter for her body, and it felt like he was fucking threatening her. 

Well, it wouldn’t work.

“I’m not afraid of you, mutant,” she snapped, her lips curling back over her teeth.

“… Alright?” He said, sounding a bit confused, and Casey bristled in offense at the audacity he had to be baffled by her completely rational statement. 

“I could still kill you,” she said.

For a long moment, it was quiet. Aside from her heartbeat. And his ragged breathing.

“… I’m not tryin’ to scare you,” he said. “… Sorry.”

There was another long moment of silence.

“What’s your name?” He asked. Casey stiffened slightly.

“I don’t have a name,” she hissed, narrowing her eyes, and then absolutely snarled when he bit out a bark of laughter in response.

“What do you mean you don’t have a name?” He wheezed. “You… You don’t gotta tell me if you don’t want…!”

“I don’t have a name,” she pressed, harder this time, narrowing her eyes— hesitating for just a second. 

“… The Foot Clan doesn’t have names. We renounce them,” she said after a moment. “…. We only take titles. They reflect our rank and our power. Names make you weaker.”

She didn’t know why she was telling him this. It was stupid. He didn’t deserve to know. Because she was angry that he would look down on her for it…? 

Because she was still mostly convinced that they would both die down here?

“… That’s sad,” he said.

“It’s not,” she said.

“It is,” he said. “… I think it’s sad. You deserve to have a name.”

“I don’t want a name.”

“What’s your title, then?”

“… Recruit.”

“Alright, then, Recruit,” he bit out, a tiny bit of a laugh still coloring his voice. “… I’m Raph. And my family is gonna get us out of here. I promise.”

“You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep,” she growled in response, narrowing her eyes.

“I don’t,” he assured.

And then, for a while, it was quiet again. 

“Are you actually eighteen?” He said, and Casey scoffed.

“YES!” She yelped in response. “What, you don’t think I am!? I am clearly eighteen! I am very obviously an ADULT!!!”

“No,” he admitted, grinning just the tiniest bit. “Not really.”

“You’re an idiot,” she accused.

“Yeah, people say that sometimes…” He mumbled with a huff. He shifted again, readjusting his grip ever-so-slightly and twisting his feet, and the metal groaned ominously above them. 

Just for a second, his footing slipped, and he jerked— and for just a single moment, the top of the world was falling again, and they were both about to be crushed.

His foot hit the side of the wall, and he braced, tensing all his muscles properly once more and holding steady.

Nothing fell.

The creaking up above quieted.

“… Ow,” he muttered, quietly, to himself, shakily, jerkily moving his foot again after several long seconds of both of them not daring to move or breathe— cautiously inching it away from the wall. A smudge of blood was left behind, Casey noted.

Her heartbeat had never slowed, and she was beginning to think that it never would.

“… You’re standing wrong,” she said.

“… What?” Raph bit out, glancing over at her after a long beat of silence.

“YOUR STANCE IS WRONG,” she spat, scowling slightly and fixing him with a hard glare. This is why she had to yell— no one ever wanted to fucking listen to her when she said things, and the things she said were important. “You’re going to hurt yourself or fall like that, you’re doing everything STUPID. Move your leg this way, and twist this leg out. And bend your knee, and… and move your arm over this way a little if you can. And it’ll spread out the weight better.”

At first, Casey didn’t think he was actually going to listen to her.

And then, very, very slowly, moving at a crawl, he shifted his body— following her instructions and making the corrections until he settled into place again. He was still shaking, and still panting, but just… the tiniest bit less now.

“… This is better,” he finally said.

“Of course it is,” she huffed, shifting just enough to shoot him a glare. “God. Doesn’t the Hamato Clan teach you anything?”

“Kinda,” he laughed. “… Is this what the Foot Clan teaches you? Seems… kinda… kinda niche…”

“The Foot Clan teaches me everything,” she hissed.

“Are they, like, your family?”

And Casey hesitated. Because she wasn’t sure how to answer that.

Yes, her brain said.

No, it said immediately after.

“… They are now,” she finally settled on, squaring her shoulders slightly. “Stop asking me questions.”

“Why?”

“You’re my enemy. I’m not giving you any information.”

“We ain’t got nothin’ better to do.”

“I don’t care.”

“You can ask me questions if you want,” he said. “Raph don’t mind.”

She scowled, and he shot her a weak, shaking, almost pleading sorta grin.

“C’mon,” he bade. “… ’S easier if I got somethin’ to think about.”

She narrowed her eyes, and her frown deepened.

This is to your advantage. You can get information from the enemy, right? This is good. Come on. Focus. Stop getting distracted.

“… Are you cold-blooded?”

“… What?”

“Stop making me repeat myself. ARE. YOU. COLD. BLOODED.”

“I don’t think so?” He said with a soft snort. “… I mean. Maybe? I’m not sure.”

“How do you not know?” Casey hissed.

“Well, I don’t… I don’t usually spend a lot of time in, uh… this body…!” He bit out. 

“You’re stupid.”

“Quit sayin’ that.”

“No.”

He laughed a tiny bit, shaking his head ever-so-slightly. “Why do you wanna know?”

Casey frowned. Why did she want to know?...

“… I’m just curious.”

“How old are you?” Raph asked.

“I’m eighteen. And I told you not to ask me questions.”

“You’re not eighteen.”

“I AM!!! I AM EIGHTEEN!”

“Nah! There’s no way you’re older than me!” He laughed. “You look like you’re in high school or somethin’.”

“I don’t go to school,” she growled, curling her lips with distaste. “And I am eighteen.”

“Why not?”

“I already told you,” she hissed. “I learn everything I need from my clan. Stop asking me questions.”

“Do you do, like… like, homeschooling?”

“I train.”

“You dropped out of high school?”

“I never went to high school, so I did not drop out, so there!” She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “NOW STOP ASKING ME QUESTIONS. I will not answer them! You are trying to get me to reveal secrets of my clan and it WILL NOT WORK.”

“I’m not! I’m not, I swear!” He insisted. “… Man, you should go to school. I feel like you’d be good at sports--”

A distant clamber of footsteps and a horrid, wrenching cry disrupted their strained conversation.

“RAPH!”

“Dad!” Casey’s companion immediately answered in kind, his head jerking slightly towards the noise. He had sounded so eerily calm up until now. “WE’RE HERE! W-we’re okay--!”

“Oh my god they’re alive--!”

“Raph--!”

“We’re coming, holy shit, it’s okay--”

“We’re gonna get you outta there, big guy, no problem, just hang on for us--!”

Everything moved really fast after that. Casey was sure they were saying other things, all speaking over each other and crying, clambering over each other and clustered about at the very edge of the elevator to peer down at them-- reassuring him, over and over and over,

‘It’ll be okay, we’ll get you out, we’ll save you, you’re okay, we’re here now, you’ll be okay.’

For some reason, everything else was kind of far off and muddy, but those things she could still hear. They sort of echoed, bounced around in her head.

And then a hand was thrust out in front of her.

She jerked back.

“Grab my hand,” the oldest of the group pressed, and it took her a second to hear him properly, but she could if she focused. “I’ll pull you out.” 

Casey bristled, pulling back slightly.

He was the only one not wearing the Hamato symbol-- but she knew he was one. 

“Don’t touch me,” she spat, and again, her hands instinctively moved towards her belt with no weapon in it, as if she had somehow forgotten her early discovery.

“I do not wish to fight you,” The Hamato insisted, his voice softening a bit, gentle and reassuring. Almost paternal in a way that Casey resented. “I just need to get you out. Please.”

“Raph ain’t tryna… complain or nothin’, but do you think you could maybe hurry up so I could get outta here, too? ‘Cause unless you wanna take a turn holdin’ this you really gotta go first--” 

Casey frowned.

She bit her lip.

She looked between the lot of them.

She could still refuse.

She could still attack. Even without a weapon. She could still do damage-- she might even be able to overwhelm the turtle one long enough that he might lose his grip.

She took the Hamato’s hand. It was warm in hers and surprisingly soft, despite the calluses and blisters. He squeezed her tight and firm, his fingers laced together with her own, and with one mighty heave, he yanked her up and out of the elevator shaft. 

And then she was out of the elevator shaft. 

And she was all by herself. Surrounded by the enemy.

There was no Foot Clan here with her. She didn’t have a little button she could press to call them. She had no weapon. It was just her and six enemies. 

Every single one of them had their backs on her, all hunched over the space she had just crawled from, focused on getting Raphael out from under the shattered fragments of the elevator car. No one was paying any attention to her. 

No one was looking at her.

They had all turned their backs.

For just a second, her breath was a stone in her throat. 

And she turned and she ran.

---

Casey sucked in a long, steady breath. And she slowly let it back out. She adjusted her stance, allowed herself half a second to readjust her footing to something slightly more comfortable-- and then mentally scolded herself for doing so. 

Focus. 

Her mother said that the key to success was discipline and repetition. That practice would bring her to where she needed to go. She should have basics like this down by now, her mother had said. “You should be able to do this by now. I don’t know how to help with that.”

Her knuckles hurt, and her body was tired, but she wasn’t weak. And she didn’t give up, either.

100 reps down. 100 more. And then maybe she’d get this right. And if she didn’t-- 100 after that. 

She would keep going until she got it right.

---

The walk home felt long.

Her body was, admittedly, feeling quite wrung-out and sore at this point, and it resented her for dragging it through the streets of New York, but Casey was quite good at tuning out its protests. No one bothered her, as they rarely did-- anyone who looked at her for too long typically thought better of it as soon as she met their eyes. She knew how to convince people to think twice before they approached her.

She was in no mood for pests on the streets.

Coward, she thought bitterly to herself. They were vulnerable, and you ran. Instead of attacking you fled. You could have at least tried. You might have been able to take one or two down, if you actually tried… 

She was certain she would have lost the fight. But at least she would have fought. 

Even managing to injure one of the Hamatos would have been more valuable than her return to the Clan. She hadn’t been surprised to find the rest of the mall devoid of life, the remaining members of her party having long fled the scene. She knew that that was what they would do. That was the correct thing to do. 

She was surprised by how it stung. She thought that she knew better than that by now.

Just a day full of disappointment, then… 

Though she was tempted to make a beeline back to their basecamp, she knew better, and she took the long way to ensure she wasn’t being followed by anyone. It was late by the time she arrived. 

Brute had turned to look at her and gasped loudly, and though Lieutenant had a bit more self-control, she noted the way his eyebrows shot up.

“You’re back!” Brute cried in celebration, immediately moving to her side, clapping her hard on the back. Casey braced herself well enough that she didn’t stumble, though she would admit that it didn’t exactly feel good. “We thought for sure you got squished!--”

“Excellent work, Recruit,” Lieutenant observed, a bit calmer as he approached, as he often was. “We’re glad you made it back in one piece.”

“My apologies, Senseis--” Casey bit out, gritting her teeth and throwing her head down into a deep bow. “I failed to eliminate any of the Hamato Clan members!!! FORGIVE ME!!!”

The two stayed quiet for a moment, and Casey swore she could hear them exchanging looks.

“Yes, well, there’s always next time.” Lieutenant assured, patting her on the head a few times. “We’re just glad you weren’t crushed in an elevator. It is so difficult to find decent ninja trainees these days… So, well done!”

“Yeah. Go hit the showers,” Brute encouraged, offering a thumbs up and a grin.

And that was about the extent of the conversation.

Casey felt oddly numb. But she wasn’t sure why. Or what she expected. 

This was praise. 

She should be pleased. So she was having a hard time figuring out… why she wasn’t. 

Despite this cloudiness, her head still shot up before Baron Draxum even spoke a word to her, turning sharply to meet his eyes. He didn’t flinch, and neither did she.

“I’m relieved to see you made it back to us,” he remarked, cool and thoughtful, tilting his head to the side slightly. “Losing you would have been quite the blow to our organization. It’s a shame that more effort wasn’t put in to retrieve you…”

Casey narrowed her eyes, her hackles raising.

“My senseis put the well-being of the mission first,” she spat in response, wrinkling up her nose.

“Yes, I suppose so… It’s just difficult to watch them not place more value into such a clear asset. It’s quite obvious to me that your experience and talent is… under-utilized here. You have a great deal of potential that doesn’t seem to be being taken advantage of…”

Casey didn’t quite untense, her jaw still held tight beneath her lips. And she frowned.

“...You think I have potential?”

---

Leo has no idea why he did this. Looking back at it later, he thought, what the fuck were you thinking? Not the time or place, moron. They had finally gotten back home, gotten Raph all patched up, and had been assured by him about eight thousand times that he was okay. It was only after eight-thousand-and-one, “no, really, Dad, I’m fine’s,” and a promise from everyone in the room to keep an eye on him while he was gone that their father relented just enough to escort April back to her own apartment, with the reassurance of “I’ll be right back.” Everyone was still pretty spooked, because duh, no shit, and he really should have just kept his mouth shut. That was obvious now.

Maybe he was just still shaken up over the whole evening. His brain wasn’t working right, or whatever. He’s not really sure. It just… it just happened. He just said things.

“How come you didn’t listen to me?”

The words had left his mouth before he had even processed them. Raph paused, glancing over at his brother, all four of them curled up together on the living room couch, and the unsteady peace they had been resting in just a second ago was suddenly gone.

“What?”

“Before, at the mall,” Leo continued, even though what he meant to say was ‘nothing, nevermind.’ “I told you I had a plan, and you wouldn’t listen to me.”

He could feel his brother stiffen next to him. There was a beat of silence, and then Raph heaved out a big, heavy sigh.

“There was-- there was a lot goin’ on, Leo. We can’t always do your plans--”

“But you didn’t even listen to it,” Leo pressed. “You wouldn’t even let me tell you what I was thinking.”

“Leo--”

“I had a plan,” he insisted, his mouth working all on its own. “If we had-- if we had had a plan instead of just rushing in, maybe things would have-- I dunno, have gone better?”

“It’s not--”

“If we had a plan maybe you wouldn’t have gotten hurt. You could have-- you could have gotten for-real hurt, Raph!”

“Leo, st-”

“I don’t understand why you don’t trust me enough to at least list--”

“Trust you?” Raph snapped, whipping around to glare at his younger brother. Up until now, his voice had been strained, but now it was sharp and jagged, and he absolutely bristled. Leo found himself shrinking under his gaze. “Leo, how the hell are you gonna look at me and ask me to trust you right now?! The last time I trusted you, you almost died! You tried to freakin’ kill yourself! And you expect me to trust you!?”

Leo blinked in surprise. For a moment, he floundered, his mouth gaping slightly.

“Look, that was different! And I was the only one with a plan--”

“That doesn’t mean it was okay!” Raph cried.

“I--I mean. That plan went wrong, but I thought I was gonna be--”

“No you didn’t!” Raph bristled. “You didn’t think you were gonna be okay and you know it! You knew it was risky the entire time, so don’t try and tell Raph otherwise! I might’a been dumb enough to go along with it the first time, but I’m not dumb enough to believe that now!!! So just drop it, okay?! I’m not talkin’ about this with you anymore!”

Leo opened his mouth. And then he closed it again.

‘Cause he didn’t really… know what else to say. 

“Alright,” he finally said, looking down at his feet. Raph looked like maybe he still had more, but he bit his tongue, casting a long look at Leo before he finally tore himself away and stalked off. Mikey looked between the two groups, hesitating a moment, before he followed after their eldest brother with a weak ‘wait up.’

And for a moment there, it was just Donnie and him, sitting together in the awkward silence. Eventually, Leo found it in himself to speak again, laughing awkwardly, a bit bitterly, and hunching his shoulders.

“What the hell was that? Is he-- is he seriously not even gonna listen to me anymore?”

“Can you actually blame him?” Donnie said dryly, raising a brow, and Leo gawked.

“What do you mean can you blame him!? I have good ideas--”

“So?” Donnie scoffed, shrugging a bit. “It doesn’t matter if you have good ideas if they lead to you dying.”

Leo groaned loudly, rolling his eyes. “Look, I didn’t try to kill myself--”

“You kind of did,” Donnie cut off. “I mean. I understand that wasn’t your base intention, but we’re not stupid, Leo. You very obviously oversold your ability to get back down safely. You could barely stand after the Battle Nexus, and you thought you were going to be able to aim and land in a little pool of water? Not to mention that at that height, you would have been seriously injured even if the plan was entirely successful. We only went along with it because you were deceptive in what it entailed. And you could have died. Quite easily. And I don’t believe for a second that you didn’t know that,” he accused, though his tone was even and eerily calm, narrowing his eyes at the other.

Leo felt this little shiver run up his spine, and he wrapped his arms around himself. Suddenly, his feet were very interesting.

“I didn’t-- I didn’t think I would die--”

“Doesn’t matter,” Donnie dismissed. “It wasn’t okay. And just because you didn’t think you would die from this crazy, risky, self-sacrifice-y plan doesn’t mean you won’t. Or that you won’t in the next one, or the next one. So look. We’re not playing that game,” he said, his voice cold. “We’re not doing that again. So no. We don’t trust you. Obviously, we don’t trust you. You’re our brother, and we love you dearly. And that’s why we can’t trust you.”

Oh. Ow. Why the fuck did that hurt so bad? Leo’s stomach flip-flopped, and for a second, he bristled in retaliation, giving a soft little scoff.

“As if any of the rest of you wouldn’t try to pull off the same thing if you had the chance! Don’t stand there and pretend like I’m the only one in the family for a penchant for dramatics! You jumped on Angie before, too!” He hissed, throwing up his hands. “You guys would all try to take the bullet, too!”

Donnie shrugged.

“Yeah. Maybe. But I wouldn’t trick the rest of you into setting it up.”

Leo grit his teeth.

“We all trusted you. And we went along with your plan,” Donnie continued, his voice hard. “We helped you. And you almost died. You could have died,” he pressed. “You’re important to us, Leo. How do you think the rest of us would have felt?”

Donnie’s brows furrowed.

“How do you think I would have felt? Or Raph?” He challenged. “How do you think Angie would have felt? Good Galileo, how do you think Angie feels right now?”

Leo kept quiet, considering this for a second, rolling the thought around in his head. And he didn’t like it.

He was suddenly getting the feeling that he had fucked up really bad over a month and a half ago, and it was just now sinking in.

“Look, I know you want to protect us,” Donnie said, crossing his arms over his chest. “We get it. Raph gets it. Of course Raph gets it, have you ever met the guy? He’s basically the world’s number one advocate for any and all ‘protect my brothers’ campaigns,” Donnie scoffed. “But that doesn’t mean that you can just throw yourself around as an expendable variable. If he hadn’t caught you, you know how much that would kill him.”

Leo groaned softly, burying his face in his hands. “Aw, man…” He muttered. “Maybe I do need a therapist…”

---

“Cut it out,” Raph said, hooking out a hand to grab Leo’s ankle as he ran past him, promptly sending his younger brother stumbling down to the ground. Leo squeaked in surprise as he fell, turning to huff and give his brother an annoyed glare.

“Why?!”

“‘Cause I said,” Raph replied easily, a teeny little grin growing on his face. “And I’m in charge.”

And it was true.

I mean, really, he had been ‘in charge’ lots of times in the past, frequently tasked with ensuring his little brothers didn’t wander off or do anything dumb. But he hadn’t ever, in all his memories, been in charge like this. Never all by himself.

He wasn’t the only one excited, he knew. All three of his brothers were nearly bouncing off the walls with joy at the prospect of being left home alone for the first time. Finally! At long last! The day every pre-teen waited for… they had the house all to themselves for the whole evening with no supervision. No babysitter or neighbor watching them for the night while their Dad was out… Just him and his brothers with a whole empty house to themselves. They could do whatever they wanted, and they had every intention of taking full advantage of the situation, like a reasonable child might.

“That’s not a good reason!” Leo protested with a scoff. 

“Well, the other reason is you’re startin’ to piss Donnie off,” he hummed, releasing his grip on the other’s leg, allowing him to squirm away. Donnie was happy for the reprieve of being chased by his twin, climbing over Raph and hopping up onto the couch behind him, grabbing the nearest blanket to wrap around himself like a shield and sulk. Leo sighed loudly, rolling his eyes, clearly displeased with the end of his game, but he didn’t protest either, sitting himself back up. 

“I got snacks!” Mikey announced proudly as he came bounding down the basement stairs, his arms filled with just about every form of junk food that they had in the house, and even some that Raph hadn’t even known that they had in the house. He dumped the loot down on the coffee table, and the brothers all immediately dug in, each grabbing at chips, Capri Suns, and ice cream containers and laying their claim.

“What are we gonna watch?” Mikey asked excitedly, curling up on the couch, bouncing up and down in place.

“Whatever we want,” Raph replied smugly from his own placing on the floor, continuing to scroll through the channels, remote in hand. “We just gotta find somethin’ that looks--”

“OH!” Leo gasped from the couch, jumping slightly and pointing at the TV. “Let’s watch the new Batman movie!!! Look! It’s barely even started!!!”

Mikey hesitated for a second, his brows knitting. “But Dad said we’re not allowed to watch that,” he fret.

“Which is exactly why we should!” Leo had countered. “We’re home alone. We can watch whatever we want. Besides, Batman is cool!”

“Do you think we’d get along with him if we met him?” Mikey questioned with a thoughtful sigh.

“Maybe,” Donnie said, shrugging a bit.

Raph furrowed his brows just a bit as he deliberated. Hm. Well. Leo did make a pretty compelling argument. They were home alone. Therefore, they could do whatever they wanted! Besides, he wasn’t afraid of a dumb movie, especially not a superhero movie. 

“Alright. Batman it is!” He agreed, clicking definitively on the remote to select the channel before tossing it aside. 

And goddamn, did he feel cool.

That lasted for maybe about forty minutes.

And the movie was cool! I mean. At first. But then evening had turned into night, and it had gotten dark outside. Even worse-- it had begun to rain. It rained hard, too, and Raph heard thunder rumble off in the distance, shaking the house ever so slightly. And the further into the plot of the movie they got, the more Raph began to understand why it was rated “R.”

They watched the whole thing, with all four of them frozen in place the whole time. It wasn’t until the credits rolled that Raph finally swallowed, turning his head slightly to glance at his younger brothers.

He was almost relieved to see that they were about as terrified as him. It wasn’t a scary movie, per se, there were no jump scares, it was just…

That was really messed up, what the Joker did to those people!!! Okay!?

Mikey was absolutely clinging to Leo for dear life, his eyes lined with tears, and Donnie had all but disappeared under his blanket, peering out cautiously from within. Even Leo looked shaken, even as he swallowed, forcing a very shaky, half-hearted laugh.

“Whoa. That was… cool,” he forced, even though he looked sort of like he was going to throw up. “Right, guys--?”

Thunder cracked outside and all four of them jumped. Mikey straight up shrieked, burying his face against Leo’s shoulder, and Raph had half a mind to leap up and throw himself into a pile with his brothers and hide there. 

But he steeled himself, just barely catching his nerves before they launched him into a panic, his hands curling into determined fists. 

He was in charge. Remember?

“It’s-- it’s just the storm, guys. It’s alright,” he tried to soothe, fighting to keep his voice steady. “It’s fine--!”

“THEY BURNED A GUY’S FACE OFF!” Mikey wailed tearfully in response, and Raph winced.

“Mikey, chill! It’s just a movie!” Leo insisted, a nervous grin on his face. “I mean. N-none of it’s, like, real, or anything!”

“What if it was?!” Mikey squeaked. “What if it’s based on a true story or something!? Or what if someone else watches it and it inspires them to break into people’s houses and put bombs in their chests!? And what if they come here and cut us open and put bombs in our chests!?”

“That’s… Highly improbable,” Donnie bit out, and Mikey whimpered.

“But it could happen!!!”

Raph grit his teeth, inhaling deeply, and then slowly letting the breath back out.

“It’s gonna be fine, Mikey. Leo’s right. It was just a movie. You don’t gotta be scared,” he insisted. He could tell his brothers weren’t quite convinced. He scooped up the TV remote again, switching the television over the cartoons. It was just re-runs of something they had seen before, but what did it matter? “Here. Hang on. I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going!?” Mikey squealed.

“Raph’ll go double-check to make sure no one can get in,” he said. “So you guys know for sure we’re safe. Alright? I’ll be right back.”

Mikey whimpered, but none of them had protested, watching with wide eyes as he approached the stairs. And if Raph was being totally honest with himself…? He really didn’t wanna go up there.

‘Specially not by himself.

But he had little brothers to protect. A part of him told him that they weren’t in any danger, but another bit said what if they were?! What if Mikey was right and someone came and broke into the house or something!? 

He was in charge. Dad left him in charge. And he had to make sure that they were all safe and could handle anything that came their way.

So that meant he had to go double-check. 

Biting the insides of his cheeks, he made his way up the stairs.

Somehow, the house seemed darker than usual, even though it was just the same as it always was. Rushing slightly, Raph hurriedly made his way to the front door to check it. And, just as he had expected, it was locked. Just like it was supposed to be. The back door was locked, too, and Raph sighed softly in relief. 

He checked all the windows, all the way up to the attic on the fourth floor. He checked every single room to make sure there was no one hiding inside, either. He grabbed blankets from each of their beds, as well as one of his stuffed teddy bears, and did a final sweep on his way back down to the Lair.

“It’s okay!” He assured as he made his way back down the stairs, re-joining his younger brothers. “I checked everything, and there’s no way anybody could get in!”

“Are you sure!?” Mikey questioned, his eyes wide. “What if someone tries to break in or something?”

“I’m sure,” Raph assured firmly. “Raph checked all the locks. And the windows! And look. I got extra blankets and stuff, too,” he added, tossing the covers over the couch and over top of his brothers. “Here. You guys scoot over, and we can play Mario Kart until Dad gets home,” he said, glancing down at his siblings with a grin. “And once he’s here, no one would be dumb enough to mess with us anyway! So don’t worry.”

---

For the thousandth time in this day alone, Yoshi wondered if it would be wiser to pull his children out of school, out of all their various sports and extracurriculars, and keep them home instead, with him, where it was safe. Or at least safer. Where he could keep his eyes on them and know that, if nothing else, he could act should anything happen. They would have more time for training, too, he sometimes noted, but that thought alone made every nerve in his body twist in on itself. 

How could he do that to them? The thought of keeping them here, away from school and from friends and from hobbies, and training instead made him feel sick to his stomach. The idea of training alone made him sick. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was his eldest child falling away from him.

He had tried at least a dozen times now to say, “no, no more of this, I won’t allow you to be involved any longer,” and every time his (darling, wonderful, beloved) bullheaded children resolutely denied him and insisted that they would find a way to be involved whether he liked it or not. And while he hemmed and hawed over somehow taking more drastic measures to keep them safe, over how he could possibly achieve this and if it was possible to do so without them resenting him for the rest of their lives, time marched on with the same degree of stubbornness. 

It was impossible not to feel like he was running out of time.

The apartment was too quiet. He resented himself for being in the safety of it when his children were not, even if they left of their own volition. 

Yoshi sighed deeply, and found himself sinking down into his reclining chair before he even knew he was doing it. Internally, he scolded himself. There were things that needed to be done; housework that needed doing, phone calls that needed to be placed, and children out in the world that he had to keep track of, even if they weren’t home at the moment… (All the more reason to stay on his toes…) but honestly, he was just…

Tired.

It had been some time since he had been able to sleep at night, and he was beginning to think that melatonin was a scam or something. How could he sleep? How was he meant to sleep at night with everything looming over him, dripping wetly down his spine, burning and hot and threatening…? When the safety of both the world and his family hung in the balance, and each were equally as precious…? He grumbled softly to himself, leaning his head back and staring up at the ceiling, glowering at it as though it were personally responsible for the current state of his world.

He had only intended to sit for a while. Just to take a moment to rest, to get a chance to breathe before he got up again and continued with all the things he still had to be on top of… 

But he must have fallen asleep.

Because the next thought he had was,

Oh. This hasn’t been familiar for a while.

Not just the place-- he hadn’t been here in many, many years. This long, endless expanse of inky darkness, somehow warm and cozy despite the utter, infinite darkness of it all. He could hear whispers off in the distance, just barely tickling up against the edges of his brain. He hadn’t been in this place in a long time.

But it was also him. Looking down at his own hands, outlined in this soft white light, he noted the differing shape to him. How the wrinkles were gone from his knuckles, and each digit instead extended out smooth and slender, calloused but confident, and yet perfectly manicured.

He didn’t have to look to know that the rest of him was this way, too.

It almost felt odd to be back in the body he had inhabited in his twenties; to look like Lou Jitsu the Actor again, to feel like him. Back before the mutation. Back before the Nexus-- to feel like a young man with a career and dreams and ambitions, to be that person once more who had broken away from their family and escaped, and who held onto all the hurt and guilt of it, but who kept moving anyway. That person that he used to be, but couldn’t be anymore.

It almost felt odd. But somehow, it didn’t-- not quite. He noted it, was aware of it, and thought to himself, hm. This is certainly interesting… But really, it didn’t feel all that strange to him. It felt completely natural. 

He felt so calm. He was sitting here, surrounded by nothing but darkness and his own aura, a halo of snow white silhouetting him. His body was different from what it had been a few moments ago, but he felt completely at peace. That almost felt odd, too, but still didn’t quite. It didn’t bother him that his body was different now. If anything, it was a comfort.

He wondered for a second why in the world he was here again, after so much time, when a voice rang out from behind him.

“Welcome back, Yoshi.”

Blinking in surprise, Yoshi turned to face the other occupant of his dream.

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