#and yet he has to work with Mr Fuck-All..............
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Sunshine [11] - Blast
AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your wonderful support and lovely comments and HCs! ❤️ You’re amazing! ❤️
I hope you like this as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader
Summary: Every break up has an aftermath.
Word Count: 4244
CW: Explicit language, angst, adult themes MDNI
Series Masterlist
The month after your brutal breakup hadn’t been so easy.
When Theo was around, you made sure he didn’t notice anything. His happiness was the most important thing for you, it had been that way ever since he was born, so you weren’t going to ruin it. Every weekend, you pretended you were incredibly happy and that nothing was wrong at all, despite the heartbreak you were going through.
Your friends were the only people who knew just how sad you were, and they had formed a very united front to change that.
“We have found the one.”
You pulled your brows together as you filled Jamie’s cup while Nik gave you a proud smile and Julie sat up straighter, repressing a squeal.
“You two are dating, so you’ve already found ‘the one’” you used air quotes, making Nik roll his eyes.
“Not for us!”
“And Julie would’ve told me if she found the one.”
“I’d also be shouting it from the rooftops, but this isn’t about me.”
You threw your head back. “I’m not gonna go on a blind date.”
“Hear me out,” Jamie said, fishing his phone out of his pocket. “This guy has been approved in the group chat.”
“What group chat?”
“Our group chat.”
Your jaw dropped. “You guys have a group chat without me?”
“Yes because it’s being used purely to find you your Mr. Right.”
“And we know it’s been only a month since you and Logan broke up but fuck Logan,” Julie added. “I’ve been carrying a magnet in my purse ever since you told me about your break up, just in case I run into him.”
Nik turned to look at her better. “You’re joking.”
Julie grabbed her purse and took out a small horseshoe magnet, making your eyes widen.
“I don’t play about my threats,” she told Nik. “That motherfucker broke my best friend’s heart, so I’ll point this magnet at his—”
“Where did you even get a magnet like that?” you cut her off and she shrugged.
“I googled it.”
“I’ve only seen these in cartoons,” Nik mused, reaching out to get the magnet from Julie before Jamie cleared his throat.
“Our point is,” he said. “You’re better off without Logan, and I think you’d really like this guy.”
You heaved a sigh, resting your elbows on the counter.
“Guys I really appreciate all the effort,” you said and stole a look at Julie. “And the magnet but—seriously, you know how much I hate blind dates.”
“Well does it count as a blind date if we show you his picture?” Nik asked, getting the phone from Jamie before turning the screen so that you could see the picture.
Even you had to admit, he looked cute. It was as if Jamie had decided to find you someone the complete opposite of Logan; he seemed younger than him -around Jamie’s age if you weren’t mistaken-, he had dirty blonde hair, and just from the picture alone, you could tell he was the type of person who liked to smile, a lot. Judging by his white coat, he worked in the same hospital Jamie worked in, and you stole a look at him.
“Your coworker?”
“He works in ER,” Jamie said. “Saved a kid’s life the other day.”
“And I’ve met him,” Nik said. “He’s like a cute puppy but also a badass.”
“And he is very handsome, you like handsome,” Julie sang tauntingly and you ran a hand over your face.
“I really don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not over Logan yet.”
“The best way to get over someone is good sex,” Julie pointed out. “We’re not telling you to move in with the guy. We’re just telling you to just…go on a date and see where things go.”
“And it could help,” Nik said softly. “You know, distracting yourself from your ex.”
You bit inside your cheek, then clicked your tongue.
“Ugh, fine,” you muttered, making them grin. “But if I don’t like him, I’ll leave and you guys will delete that group chat. Alright?”
“Deal.”
*
One of the things you hated about blind dates was that you always got incredibly nervous right before. The urge to text them and stay in instead would always get the best of you—now to think of it, the only person you didn’t get that urge with was Logan.
Well.
Logan was out of the picture, and you had to deal with that.
But if anything, at least Jamie knew this guy and was friends with him, so the odds of him being an ass was pretty low.
You pulled over in front of the restaurant before checking your phone to see whether it was in fact the right place, then slipped a little in the seat. This was by no means your first rodeo but…
You really wanted to just go home and get under covers and listen to Julie’s break up playlist.
“Worst case scenario, you’ll just have one drink and go back home,” you muttered to yourself. “Come on soldier.”
You checked your makeup in the rear mirror, then got out of the car and locked it before you smoothed out your dress and made your way to the restaurant. The hostess greeted you and after you gave her your name, you followed her into the restaurant.
Oh, he was already there.
If Logan wasn’t at the back of your mind, you were sure that you would’ve been excited. He really was a good looking guy, the smile that appeared on his face upon seeing you looked very genuine, and the fact that he jumped on his feet to greet you was a great sign.
However—
Okay no, you were not going to think about Logan tonight, not at all.
“Hi!” he said and you smiled back.
“Hi,” you said and you extended your hand but he went for a hug before he paused and made a move to shake your hand but this time you were the one who went for a hug, so you gave him a curt hug before pulling back.
“Jesus—sorry, that was awkward,” he said and you tried to control your giggle at the look of slight regret on his face.
“No worries,” you assured him and he gave you a tentative smile.
“I’m Hayes.”
You introduced yourself as well before the waiter pulled your chair for you and you thanked him, then sat down. Hayes followed you suit, then motioned at his wine glass and the appetizers.
“I hope you don’t mind.”
“No no, not at all,” you said and looked up at the waiter who put the menu in front of you. “Can I get the same as well? Thank you.”
Waiter nodded and walked away from your table, and you turned to Hayes.
“Uh, hi again.”
“Hey,” he said with a chuckle. “So uh…blind but not so blind date?”
“Sounds about right,” you said. “I mean I saw your picture.”
“So have I.”
“Jamie showed it to you?”
“Technically no.”
You blinked a couple of times. “How’s that?”
“Jamie has a picture of you and your whole friend group on his desk,” he admitted as the waiter brought your wine and you thanked him. “I saw your pic there and I asked about you in a way that was very subtle in my opinion but Jamie disagrees.”
You raised your brows, smiling slightly. “You’re not serious.”
“It was kind of like Jamie was an app and I was fervently trying to swipe.”
A small laugh escaped from your lips and you covered your mouth. “Oh my God…”
“Am I giving off serial killer vibes?” he asked to no one in particular. “Because I swear I save people for a living, that’s not—it’s just that you are very pretty and I’m very rusty when it comes to all this.”
You lowered your hands to give him a bright smile.
“You’re very sweet,” you said. “I didn’t think you were rusty.”
“No?” he asked and let out a breath. “Thank God.”
“It’s been a while?” you asked him after a moment of hesitation and he hummed.
“Listen, rusty or not I know talking about previous relationships is a red flag.”
“I don’t mind,” you said. “Let me guess, you had a long relationship and…?”
“And walked in on her and my best friend.”
“Ouch.”
“Former best friend.”
“Still ouch,” you said with a grimace. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, I mean—I changed cities but it has to be for a good cause. At least that’s what I’m choosing to believe.”
“Sounds like a good plan.”
“How about you? I find it hard to believe you go on blind dates if I’m honest.”
“Oh I’ve gone on blind dates,” you assured him. “And uh—my friends have made it their life mission to matchmake me, they apparently have a group chat where they approve people.”
Hayes pulled his brows together. “Holy shit, I’ve been approved in the group chat?”
“Yes you have,” you said. “Congratulations.”
“I feel very validated,” he mused, making you giggle. “No seriously, knowing Jamie, this is the same as passing a very difficult exam with a jury.”
“Yeah he’s very protective, especially after—” you stopped yourself and Hayes shot you a lighthearted look.
“Hey, I talked about my ex.”
“Well, I got dumped,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “And Jamie never approved of him, so now he’s like extra careful.”
Hayes hummed and lifted his wine glass slightly.
“Well, on behalf of all men in this city, we’re all very glad that your ex is an idiot.”
You scoffed a laugh and lifted your glass as well.
“Yeah well,” you trailed off, trying your hardest to not let your thoughts drift to Logan. “So you’re an E.R. doctor?”
“I am,” he said. “And you?”
“Oh I…I’m just a waitress,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders, that feeling of inadequacy hitting you out of nowhere once again. “Nothing too exciting.”
“Do you like where you work?”
“Yeah, I’m friends with everyone there except my boss,” you said. “It’s pretty nice. And you? I heard you saved a kid’s life the other day.”
A bright smile appeared on his face. “Yeah, that’s why I like working in the E.R. I can actually make a difference in just seconds, you know? It makes me feel alive, like I’m doing something right with my life.”
You nodded your head. “I can imagine. Sounds wonderful, really.”
He sipped his wine.
“So tell me more about you,” he said. “Jamie says you have a son?”
“Yeah!” you said, your eyes lighting up at the mention of Theo. “Yeah I do. Theo. He’s the cutest kid in the world, and I’m very objective about it.”
That made him laugh. “At first I thought Jamie was a father, with all the drawings in his office…”
“Oh he still keeps those?”
“With all due respect, it’s like a shrine in his office.”
“You should see his and Nik’s fridge, they have like one picture there and the rest is Theo’s artwork.”
“Really?”
“He had his artist phase, now he’s—” you started but were cut off when your phone started buzzing. You gave him an apologetic look.
“Excuse me,” you said as you grabbed it out of your purse, but as soon as you saw the name flashing on the screen, your heart dropped.
Logan.
A part of you -the petulant part of you- wanted to reject the call but you took a deep breath, then licked your lips and then answered.
“Hello?”
There was a second of hesitation on the other line before he cleared his throat.
“Theo is fine,” he said. “But he needs you here.”
Your head shot up. “What? What happened?”
“There was a small accident—”
“What accident?” you asked, your heart leaping to your throat as fear crashed down on you. “What—is he—”
“Like I said, he’s completely fine, I promise,” he said, his deep voice soothing your fear as always. “He had a nightmare, his powers took over and he blew up the wall in his room accidentally but he’s fine and so is everyone else. He locked himself in the basement though, and refuses to come out.”
You could feel your throat tightening but you took a shaky breath, then nodded as if he could see you.
“I’m on my way,” you said and hung up before turning to Hayes.
“I’m so sorry,” you said, pushing your phone into your purse. “Theo is…he’s in a boarding school in the city but he—he had a nightmare and he locked himself in the basement.”
“Oh I’m sorry,” Hayes said, frowning. “Is he okay?”
“Yeah,” you said despite the anxiety churning your stomach, then stood up. “But I need to go, he must be terrified.”
“Of course,” Hayes stood up with you. “Would you like me to drive you there?”
“No no, I can drive,” you said. “I really appreciate it though, thank you.”
“Oh it’s nothing, really,” he said. “I hope he’s feels better.”
“Sorry, again.”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” he said. “Is it okay if I get your number from Jamie?”
“Sure!” you said. “I’ll—I’ll see you around I guess?”
“Have a nice night,” he said and you gave him a curt smile, then made your way out of the restaurant, your heart beating in your ears.
*
If it were any other time, you would’ve been nervous to see Logan after a month, for the first time after your break up but you were so worried about Theo that it didn’t even cross your mind that Logan would be the one to greet you.
Which, of course he was the one to greet you by the door. He probably took your scent the moment you drove through the gates.
He looked almost frozen the moment you stepped out of your car but he recovered very fast.
“Hey—”
“Where is he?” you asked without so much as glance in his direction as you walked past him into the mansion and Logan easily caught up with you.
“In the basement,” he said. “Follow me.”
When you two got to the basement, Storm and Jean were already there.
“Hey, he’s totally fine,” Jean assured you the moment she saw you and Storm nodded her head.
“We could’ve opened the door but we didn’t want to scare him any more than he already is,” she assured you. “He only said he wants you, and now he’s not talking to us.”
“But he’s not hurt in any way,” Logan added. “I don’t smell any blood or pain, and Jean already checked his mind.”
You raised your brows, then took a deep breath.
“Thanks,” you said and smiled at Storm and Jean. “Really, thank you so much. I can take it from here.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah,” you said and swallowed thickly. “It’s not the first time this happens.”
Storm and Jean exchanged glances before Storm turned to you.
“I’ll just go and check the other students then.”
“And I’ll fill Charles in,” Jean said, squeezing your arm in a reassuring manner before they both walked away and you ran a hand over your face, then walked to the door of the basement and knocked softly.
“Bean?”
The only answer you got was a sniffle, breaking your heart to smithereens. You could feel your own eyes burning but you frowned, forcing yourself to focus.
“Bean, are you there?”
“…Yes,” his small voice reached you and you took a deep breath.
“You think you can open the door?”
“I had a bad dream.”
“I know,” you said, nodding fervently. “Everyone has bad dreams, it’s completely normal. And what do we do when we have bad dreams?”
“We have hot chocolate because that makes them go away.”
“Exactly,” you said. “So can you open the door please?”
“People will be angry at me.”
“What? No!” you said. “No one will be angry at you, I promise.”
“Mommy, it was an accident,” he said, a hiccup escaping him and you rested your forehead against the door, squeezing your eyes before swallowing the lump in your throat.
“I know,” you said. “And so does everyone. No one is angry at you—Logan, is anyone angry at Theo?”
Logan came closer to the door so that Theo could hear him better.
“Not at all,” he said. “If anything I’m a little jealous. Blasting walls is so badass, I’d love to be able to do that.”
“You hear that, bean?”
“Really?” Theo’s hopeful voice reached you and Logan smiled slightly.
“Sure bub. And hey, turns out we’ll have to decide on your superhero costume sooner than you think.”
“There you go,” you said. “Superhero costume sounds fun—”
A meow cut you off, making you tilt your head.
“Bean, is there a cat in there with you?”
“…No.”
Another meow reached you and you raised your brows.
“Theo.”
“I found him here and we’re friends now.”
“Okay,” you muttered more to yourself. “Theo—”
“His name is Sir Bartholomeow,” Theo added as if it was imperative that you knew that information and you heaved a sigh.
“Very creative bean, but can you please open the door? So that we can drink hot cocoa and I can meet your friend?”
There was a momentary hesitation and another sniffle before you heard the lock turning and you took a step back so that you could see him better. Theo was still in his pajamas, his glasses slightly crooked over his face as if he had put them on in a hurry, his wide teary eyes looking up at you. In his arms, he was holding probably the grumpiest looking cat you had ever seen in your entire life so tight that it was a wonder why the cat wasn’t trying to escape. A breath of relief left you and you crouched down to get to his level.
“Hi bean,” you said gently. “How about we give your friend to Logan so that they can be friends and I can make sure you’re okay?”
Logan stepped closer. “Yeah bub, I can take the cat—”
“Sir Bartholomeow,” you and Theo said at the same time and Logan cleared his throat.
“Yeah, him.”
Theo sniffled again before tentatively handing Sir Bartholomeow to Logan, and you checked whether he was hurt anywhere before pulling him into a bone crushing hug. Theo was still shaking like a leaf and he mumbled ‘mommy’ before burying his face to your chest while you stood up with him in your arms.
“I’m here,” you said softly, still holding him tight. “I’m here, it’s fine. I swear everything is gonna be fine.”
*
Theo never liked being away from you and that turned into a whole different level whenever he had a nightmare. You would be lying if you said you weren’t relieved to have him in your sight so after he drank his hot chocolate, you had carried him to bed and stayed with him until he fell asleep, humming the lullaby he used to love when he was a baby.
There it was again.
Times like these, you always remembered just how utterly alone and clueless you were in this whole thing.
You could feel the tears pricking your eyes as you looked down at him, then leaned in to kiss his head and pulled the covers over him, and walked out of the room as quiet as a mouse.
The mansion was mostly quiet, and even though you could still hear the voices coming from the kitchen, you desperately needed to be alone in case you burst into tears, so you walked through the hallway to step outside, the cold wind hitting your face. Heaving a sigh, you made your way to the stairs to sit down, and wiped at your eyes furiously before wrapping your arms around your knees, fixing your gaze on the stars glimmering in the sky.
You heard the front door open before the familiar footsteps came closer and you felt him drop his jacket over your shoulders before he sat down as well.
“Hi Logan,” you rasped out, sniffling and he offered you a hesitant smile.
“Hey,” he said, putting the bottle of whiskey between you two before he made a face. “Shit, I forgot to bring glasses.”
You scoffed a laugh. “We’ve done worse things than drinking from the same bottle.”
“Right,” he said after a beat and you grabbed the bottle to take a swig, grimacing at the burn before putting it down again.
“How’s your arm?” he asked and you took a shaky breath, then shrugged your shoulders.
“Healed,” you said and turned to look at him better. “I don’t even think about it anymore.”
He was too smart to miss the double meaning of your remark and his lips twitched for a moment.
“I’d bet,” he muttered. “Fun date then?”
You pulled your brows together in confusion and he nodded at you.
“I haven’t seen you in that dress before and you smell like someone else.”
You smelt like—
Oh. Hayes had hugged you.
“I don’t have the capacity to get into that bullshit right now,” you stated and Logan swallowed thickly, then nodded again.
“Right,” he said. “Of course.”
For a minute, the only thing you could hear were the crickets and the sound of the faint wind in the air before Logan take a deep breath.
“He’s fine, princess.”
You bit at your nail, blinking back the tears before you shook your head.
“No he’s not,” you said. “You and I both know that he’s not fine. Not really.”
“He’s too powerful,” Logan said. “Accidents like these will happen, you can’t really avoid them. What matters is that he hasn’t hurt himself or anyone else.”
You took another sip of the whiskey.
“Having you here helped a lot too,” he said. “He calms down when he sees you, that’ll be good for him.”
You clicked your tongue.
“Yeah, for now,” you muttered and Logan frowned.
“For now?”
“Yeah,” you said. “Until he grows up and hates me for everything I’m doing wrong as we speak.”
“That’s not true.”
“No no it is, I’m fucking up big time,” you said with a dry laugh. “Jesus, my mom said I had no idea what I was doing and I was too busy arguing with her that I didn’t even see it but it’s true. I have no clue.”
“That doesn’t mean you’re doing something wrong.”
“I’ve been doing everything wrong,” you told him, blinking back the tears. “He’s too little to see it now, but sooner or later he’ll see that everything that happened to him is my fault, even the fact that his powers showed up—”
You had to stop talking when your voice cracked and you tried to swallow the lump in your throat, sniffling again. He reached out for a second as if he wanted to wipe at the tears falling down your cheeks but then paused, pulling his hand back, his jaw clenching like he was in pain. You wiped at your eyes furiously, letting out a shaky breath.
“I’m terrible at this,” you said, nodding to yourself while Logan kept his burning gaze on you.
“I promise you, you’re not,” he said. “Theo adores you, and I think you’re the best parent I’ve ever seen in my life which in case it has escaped your notice, that’s a lot of years.”
You raised your brows, wiping at your nose before you cleared your throat and took off the jacket to place it into his lap, then stood up with Logan following you suit.
“I can drive you home,” he said and you threw your shoulders back, trying to pull yourself together.
“I had like three sips of whiskey, I can drive.”
“I can still drive you, it’s been a long night.”
“I’m fine.”
“No I want to,” he insisted and you tilted your head, giving him a questioning look. His eyes met yours before he took a deep breath.
“I just…” he trailed off. “I want to—I want to make myself useful.”
You frowned, staring at him. “Why?”
“No reason,” he said. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t ask for anything, just…like I said. I want to make myself useful. I need to make myself useful.”
Your stomach did a flip as a painful smile curled your lips.
Oh.
This. You were familiar with this.
You had been through the same. You were in fact going through the same right now, frantically looking for something to ease the pain. Your solution was to follow your friends’ advice and try to date around, ignoring the way it just felt wrong when you were still in love with him, and Logan—
Logan was dealing with it in such a Logan way that it was almost ironic how you didn’t see it coming.
“It’s not going to help,” you said, your voice a mere whisper and he gulped, his jaw clenching.
“It could,” he managed to say through his teeth and you sniffled, shaking your head.
“It won’t,” you rasped out. “I’m sorry, it won’t.”
The agony that flashed over his handsome features twisted at your heart but you managed to smile at him.
“Good night Logan,” you murmured and walked away from him, painfully aware of his eyes following you.
#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#deadpool#deadpool and wolverine#deadpool 3#wolverine#wolverine x reader#logan wolverine#logan x reader#logan howlett x you#wolverine x you#james howlett#logan howlett imagine#logan x you#james logan howlett#logan xmen#wolverine logan
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My friend's experiences with his graduation project (my friend finished all the backend stuff while the only thing his partner did is like.... a login page where all the input fields and buttons spill out of the div) inspired me to work on the frontend shit today again <3
#I don't get paid and I don't need this for anything#it's purely a passion project#and yet I'm somehow doing way more for this than a dude whose graduation this depends on lol#honestly I feel so sad for my friend since he's really chill and the hardest worker out of all of us#and yet he has to work with Mr Fuck-All..............#(yes this is the friend with whom I switched genders as a kid)#(he's still cis to my knowledge though)
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OOH YEAH BABY! PARTY TIME BABY! MUSIC! DRINKS! SOCIAL PRESSURE & A PSYCHEDELIC BREAK DOWN! WELCOME TO VAMPIRE SOCIETY MOTHERFUCKER! ARE YOU SCARED? DO YOU UNDERSTAND YET? ITS OKAY IF NOT. FIRE DISSOLVED IT! ITS ALL GONE NOW. HAVE FUN!
#jrwi fanart#jrwi show#jrwi suckening#jrwi suckening spoilers#RRAAHH IM IN LOVE WITH THIS SHOW SOOO GOODDAMN MUCH!! each o these characters has STOLEN my HEART!!!#LIKE EMIZEEELLL i love emizel so much.. runnin around announcing that HE isa PRINCE while shiloh FINALLY quietly clicks the pieces together#nathan hanover you MADMAN!!! that slow dramatic guitar riff as emizel makes that announcement was so fuckin COOL UGHHHH#MR HANOVER DOES IT AGAIN just creating tracks that absoultely WORM into my MIND and HHEAARRT UUGHHGHH#emizel is so cool and so funny and so adorable UUGHH ill gush abt him more when i finally post my emizel n soda doodle page#ARTHUR FUCKING BENNET. i totally get why grizz has a hard time playing him. hes cool and stoic n its not easy to play a man o little words#BUT BBOOOY DOES HE DO IT WELL!! arthur DOES come off as so stoic n cool & it just makes his lil misfortunes all the more charming#like falling into the red fear or confrontin edward twilight or accidentally doing lsd. I LOVE THATS HES THE BAD LUCK GUY.#okay uhhu uhh i have limited room here what else should i say uhh. THE NPCS. MY GOD THE NPCS. CHARLIE U WONDERFUL MADMAN#edward twilight is SUCH a funny fucking antagonist. and supposedly his magic stuff is super scary?? SO EXCITED TO SEE MORE OF THAT#ill ramble abt mr deacon keller later eheh i have a. uh. a doodle page in the works. so in the meantime DAYBRINGER SOLOMON!!#“HERE COMES THE SUN MOTHERFUCKER!” “ILL SEE YOU IN HELL. NOT. IM GOING TO HEAVEN. BITCH.” like come on now. oh my god. i need him#BIG POWERFUL BEAST AND EVERY WORD HE SAYS HAS ME CRACKING UP. THE MUFFLED VOICE IN THE DARK BROKEN BY “LIGHT!”#TRULY HILARIOUS AND YET TRULY HORRIFYING. I FUCKIN LOVE CHARLIE NPCS SO MUCH. I HOPE WE SEE HIM AGAIN OHH MY GOOOODDD#OKAYokay. im normal now. ill talk abt the piece. if u read my tags this far then u get special secret knowledge abt the artistic process#IM VERY HAPPY WITH MY COLORS! i know they were hallucinating on drugs so i just recalled the times i did drugs & used that as my influence#REMEMBER KIDS! acid is totally fine if ur safe and responsible about it. do acid and then stare at my art for a bit trrruuust me. IT MOVES!#anyway i think thats all my thoughts here. thank you for looking at my art n thanku if ur one o the ppl that says nice things in the tags#U are LITERLY my life blood i pick up each of u n kiss u so sweetly on the head. remember to try acid!!!!
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rewatching S6 in bits and pieces for current fic and ahhhhhhhhhh but the whole Jack, Diana, Mosley and Lizzie final dinner is so *viscerally* fucking satisfying on every sensory and intellectual and emotional level of consumption.
#every single movement facial expression breath flick of an eye the choice of 'mosley' not 'mr mosley'#the way mosley says 'lizzie' for the first time#jack's buildup and his mad fucking innuendo just before diana and oswald show#particularly how every drink is taken and by whom and when#lizzie constantly holding herself back the entire time from Saying Something all these flinches and half-breaths#insane#INSANE#as much as the end of S3 is roaringly wrenchingly furiously emotionally good#this dinner is something else#this whole episode is pretty much something else though fffffffffffff#jack's patronising constant reference to tommy as if he's a much younger man/boy when you look at these two guys and jack looks younger??#by design i am sure#in the scene with the tie before the dinner.the way tommy's face says one thing while facing away from lizzie#then he puts on that mask as he turns to face her and you can SEE HIM DO THAT jesus#it would a writing exercise and a half to actually try to capture that scene in writing and work out what needs to be said/described#to carry the same effect because @coffeeatnight23 -> this scene is totally Tommy ripping his own heart out then eating it with relish :)#it *is* the saddest thing but also a fucking *reclamation* of something that tommy hasn't had since his suicide attempt. there's lots of#small reclamations of self that happen in post-Ruby S6 i seem to recall. despite flicks old trauma/foggy memory wandering also this-#-sort of structural shift/acceptance he is who he is and that is how he has agency (not solely money?)#anyway it's not triumph but there is *something* that i haven't found the word for yet#acceptance is one word but there's something more vicarious and dark in it that acceptance doesn't connote
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mr sadistic size kink könig where his flirting is just talking about how bad he’ll make your tummy hurt when you finally work up the courage to take his cock. all that burning heat that piles up behind your navel when you’re horny soon to be replaced by his heavy, lengthy dick — a much better ache. where the main source of his ego already comes from his impressive size, but that doesn’t stop him from feeding off your wide-eyed, slack-jawed reaction to seeing it for the first time. where he can’t help but cruelly emphasize the inevitable impalement aspect of sex — “want me to stretch you out here, don’t you, baby?” “need your cervix filled, liebling?”
where he secretly loves seeing you squirm and cry out at the first breach of his spongy tip inside your tight hole. when you can both feel it prodding your sensitive wall, the realization that he’s already reached the depths of your cunt and he’s not even halfway inside sends shivers throughout his body. his burly hips drive forward to knock against the painful spot repeatedly, just to see your soft features contort in pain, glossy doe eyes widening in fear at the way he’s threatening to push past your presumed limit. he can’t help it, you clench around him so tightly it’s almost painful when you’re scared :(
the sight of him bulging out from inside you is one that has mind-numbing pride swelling in his chest for hours after he’s finished. him knowing that he’s mingling with your insides, deeper inside your cute little pussy than anyone else has ever been. finding it infinitely hotter that your body can’t take all of him yet, but it’s adorable that you try. his favorite place to fuck you is in front of a mirror so you can see just how big he is as he lifts you up and down on his dick, farther each time because you’ll have to be broken in at some point, häschen.
#bella writes⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚#sorry bout this#konig cod#könig cod#konig call of duty#konig x reader#könig x reader#konig x you#konig x y/n#könig call of duty#konig smut#call of duty x reader#call of duty smut#cod smut#cod x reader#könig smut#könig fanfiction#könig x y/n
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Retired pro hero Bakugou buying a really old abandoned home in Japan and restoring it while living in it.
It's all he's got, a lot of his friends have wives, families, kids, some of them even expecting a first grandkid and Bakugou in his 40s has nothing of his life to show for aside from the undisputed number one spot on the hero charts for 20 years straight and more scars than he can count.
He feels he relates to the house, old, once adored but now empty.
He wants to change that, wants to be more than an idea or idol, wants to disassociate from Dynamight and just be Bakugou Katsuki but he isn't sure he knows who that is. Dynamight is still parts of him yes but exaggerated, in all his years Katsuki knows he can soften he just doesn't know where.
Although he's ready to find out. Sadly or maybe fortunately, he's the type of man who has to find out through action and hard work. He bought the house site unseen, didn't even Google what the front of the home looked like he didn't care.
Standing in front of his mostly dilapidated home he feels good, crossing his arms over his chest as he lets his mind wander on where to start. Eyes sharp, cutting into the features of the home as he assesses just like he would any villain situation.
"Excuse me Dyna-" You clear your throat before he looks at you, as you remember his retiring announcement of him saying Dynamight can go fuck himself. I'm Bakugou Katsuki now.
"Excuse me Bakugou. I brought you a little welcome gift. I'm your neighbor." You don't flinch when his heavy gaze flicks to you, don't shy away from his snarl and if anything your smile grows as you offer up the bento and plate of cookies.
He doesn't take them and you don't take offense, just gently pull them back to yourself as you look at the home
"I'm so happy you bought the Sato house. They were good neighbors. They lived here when I was younger by both passed suddenly. Old age does that ya know? They didn't have any children but Mrs. Sato taught me her special rice for bentos."
You're rambling but you don't care, you'd just bought your childhood home from your parents a month prior. Fearful your home would suffer the same fate as the Satos. That the love and memories would be washed away by the rain and neglect. That the air around the home would worsen each year it went unaccompanied until it became so stagnant with neglect it became a miasma that not even the toughest soul could stomach.
Yet here stood Bakugou strong and tall outside a broken home.
"I don't think it's anything special by the way. Just a bit more soy sauce or sesame seed oil, I think she was what made it special."
Katsuki looks down at you for a long time, sees your fingers twitch against the fabric of the neatly wrapped bento, watches you swallow thickly and lashes flutter to combat the burn in your eyes as you stare at the home. You turn to face him, give a polite smile and nod of your head in a brief good bye before his voice stops you.
"I'll be the judge of that." You furrow your brows in confusion, looking up at him before his big warm palm comes under the bento to lift from your hands, "If the rice is special or not."
He watches your face light up, a true genuine smile that could compete with the sun and he feels something deep in his chest ache. Feels it yearn to reach out to you but he stands firm in his spot as he watches you disappear down the short overgrown walk way back to your home.
He doesn't even need to try the fucking rice to know the answer.
The rice was going to be special because you made it, Katsuki's sure of it.
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To Give a Helping Hand | jjk
☆summary: when Jungkook comes home from the gym, he goes feral thinking about you.
☆pairing: idol!Jungkook x female reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI)
☆genre: smut, idol!au
☆warnings: unedited, curses, explicit content: masturbation. that's it, that's the whole thing. Cumshot on his hand tattoos. Jungkook is hella horny for reader and jerks off thinking about her - fantasies of oral sex (male and female receiving), of unprotected sex, of rough sex, of hickeys and marking (scratches on the back), of shower sex, of spanking, of choking, of creampies, of clit play, of fingering and squirting. Multiple orgasms, lowkey pain kink and praise kink (let me know if I forgot something)
☆word count: 1.8k (I think it's the shortest thing I've ever written on here lmao)
☆a/n: pure unedited sins bc mr jeon jungkook makes me horny despite being in the army. hope this doesn't disappoint lmaooo thank you to @wintaerbaer for her help with the banner (it would have been a horrible mess without your guidance) and for encouraging me to write this!! love you Ari <3333
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You’re driving him insane.
You. Are. Driving. Him. Insane.
Insane.
Every time Jungkook sees you at the gym, he goes insane. Completely, utterly, insane. He thinks there has to be a better word in the dictionary to describe what you do to him but, alas, he can’t find it.
So insane it is, and he tries to live up to the name.
He’s been home for five minutes, and he’s already in his bed, dick so hard he thinks it’ll explode. Because of course you had to be doing squats today, in those way too tight biker shorts that leave nothing to the imagination. Your thick ass, stretching the fabric so much he thinks he spied a thong underneath…
Jungkook grunts, hiding his eyes behind his arm, trying to erase the picture from his mind. But he can’t. You’re everywhere – behind his closed eyelids, or a ghost in his room when he opens his eyes again.
It’s been that way since the very first day he saw you at the gym. Jungkook caught sight of you and immediately had a boner, which hadn’t happened to him since he was a teenager. He’s a grown man, for fuck’s sake, yet the sight of you turns him on far more than anything ever has.
You’re just… perfect. Too hot, your body perfectly sculpted by the hours you spend at the gym every week. Jungkook dreams of dragging his hands, his tongue, on every inch of your body. Of caressing your hard-earned muscles, of gripping the meat of your ass…
Of grinding into you and hearing the little breathy moans he’s sure that you make in the thralls of passion.
Fuck.
If he’s honest, he would have fucked you that first time. Would have approached you and charmed you, seduced you until he’d have you writhing under his body. But one look – one damn look – at your keychain, and he knew you were off limits.
The bright pink Kooky plushie hanging from the keychain was a firm reminder that he cannot approach you, ever. Indeed, he doesn’t mix pleasure with work, which is starting to prove increasingly hard as he gets more famous, and as his fans grow way too numerous.
As his fans, as you pretend that you don’t recognize him when you go to the gym, even though he catches you looking at him all the time. Yet he can’t approach you, won’t approach you, ever. But nothing stops him from exploring his dirty little fantasies, whenever he wraps his hand around his cock…
Jungkook grunts, and he decides to take manners into his own hands, literally. He wishes it’d be your hand, gripping his cock once he’s pushed his shorts and underwear down. Wishes you’d hold him tight as you’d jerk him off slowly, eyes never leaving his.
He imagines you taking him in your mouth. Your plump lips, wrapping around the tip of his cock, sucking once as he’d fist your hair, restraining himself from thrusting in your mouth. Or maybe you’d give him the go to fuck your mouth, to unleash himself on you…
Jungkook moans, and he jerks himself off, slowly. Eyes closed as he imagines everything he wants you to do to him, everything he wants to do to you. His hand is not nearly enough to pleasure him, not when he’s been craving you the way that he has…
But it’ll make do.
Spitting in his other hand, Jungkook holds his dick up to rub the natural lube on the head of his cock. He winces – he’s already so damn sensitive… Probably because he’s sported a semi since he saw you at the gym.
Who gave you the right to go to the gym in those shorts, with only a sports bra to pair with them? You looked devilish, downright sinful, and you’ve dragged him to hell.
Once his dick is lubed up, glistening in the dim light from the hallway because he sure as hell didn’t have time to turn the lights on in his room, Jungkook strokes himself, slowly. Tattooed fingers firmly wrapped around his cock, just the way he likes it – right under the tip, hard enough to hurt just a little bit.
Hard enough to make him wish he was fucking your tight pussy instead. He imagines the drag of your walls on his dick, on his veins and on the ridge of his tip. He imagines your breasts bouncing up and down as you’d ride him, and then your face, contorted in pleasure, as he’d jackhammer into you.
He’s had noise complaints from his neighbours once, because of the loud singing he does once in a while, when he goes live for his fans. Right now, he wishes he’d get a noise complaint because they’d hear him fucking you good, fucking you until you’d crumble into ecstasy.
He picks up the pace on his dick, free hand grabbing at the white sheet of his bed. Would you be the type to moan unabashedly loud? To say his name when you come, when your walls flutter on his dick?
The thought makes his dick twitch in his hand, and Jungkook grunts again, curses underneath his breath. He doesn’t even know your name, but he sure as hell knows he’d come with your name a litany on his lips, a sinful melody he’d sing just for you to hear.
Would you drag your nails on his back, marking him so that the world knows you’re his? Would you suck on his neck, leave hickeys behind that he’d have to hide under foundation? Would you beg for him, or would you be a brat?
He wants you to be a brat. He wants to have to put you back into your place, to spank your ass and choke you until all you know is his name. He’d be feral with you – he’s feral just thinking about you. And maybe one day he’ll betray his number one rule, maybe one day he’ll fuck you into the night, hear you cry with pleasure as he’d pump his load inside of you…
His imagination is running wild, and his pace on his dick is relentless, unforgiving. His bicep burns already, even though he’s barely started. Or maybe he’s just too lost in his fantasies, losing track of time. But he doesn’t care – he’d lose track of time fucking you, too.
“Fuck,” he moans, eyes closed tightly, eyebrows bunched together as if in pain. But he’s not hurting – he feels way too good, the pleasure running through his blood a symphony every cell inside of him is addicted to.
You’re just too beautiful to him. He’d fucking crawl on his knees for you, or maybe he’d make you crawl. He’d force you to crawl, to beg for him, to…
Jungkook grunts loudly, his orgasm hitting so hard it feels like a trainwreck. He doesn’t slow down his pace on his dick right away, letting his cum spurt out and drip on his fingers, on the back of his hand. He doesn’t even care if he makes a mess – he’s lost to his pleasure, and he doesn’t want to come back to sanity. He wants to stay insane, and so he drags his orgasm out, milks it out of himself.
And he comes a lot, painting his whole fucking hand white. He’d think it to be disgusting, but when he looks down at his hand, fuzzy from his blissed-out pupils, he sees that he’s covered his tattoos with cum. His army tattoo – the closest he’ll get to come on you. He curses at the sight, hates that it’s turning him on again and that his dick twitches, begging for more. But all he does is watch the cum – it covers the three first letters, but it’s slowly dripping towards the y, and soon the whole tattoo will be covered, like he fucking wishes your pussy would be covered with his cum, dripping with it. He’d finger you with it.
Fucking hell.
Jungkook gives in to the unrelenting desire once he’s in the shower, trying to clean himself. A single thought of your thick ass and the stretched fabric of your biker shorts sends him back to square one, and he jerks himself off again, fast and hard, his free hand leaning on the wall. He’s quick to shift and put his forearm against the wall instead, hiding his face in his arm. And then he imagines fucking you in this shower, taking you from behind as your ass cheeks shake from his ministrations. He imagines you trying to find purchase on the wall, your hands slipping until he pulls you back into his chest. He’d hold you tight, wrap a hand around your neck, and he’d find your clit with his other hand.
He’d make you come so fucking hard. All night long. He doesn’t think he’d let you even fucking walk out of his apartment. He’d fuck you seven days a week, wouldn’t even leave his bed.
This time, his release hits differently, not as strong. It still fills his blood with ecstasy, and his head swims as he watches his cum go down the drain. His hand, his tattoos, are mostly clean this time around, and he imagines them covered in your cum instead. In your sleek juices as he’d finger you, making you squirt everywhere…
He curses loudly, turning the shower to cold, immediately wincing as the water hits his back. But it’s the only way he thinks he’ll manage to chase his arousal away. Hell, he doesn’t want to spend the rest of his fucking evening masturbating. Though it’d be worth it, and he’s fully aware that he’d be able to. He’d just need to think of you, and he’d be ready to go again.
But when he steps out of the shower, he decides otherwise. He decides to go live – are you watching him, from wherever it is that you live in this city? Do you know that you make him insane, so, so insane that he just came twice to the thought of you?
He smirks, watching the comments coming in even though he hasn’t said anything yet. They fly too fast for him to be able to read anything, but he knows.
He knows that you’re there, on the other side of the screen, watching him as he watches you. Where else would you be?
And he knows damn well that next time he’ll see you, he’ll talk to you. Fuck the rules, fuck the fact that you’re his fan. He needs to fuck you, to know what your pussy taste like and how you sound when you come.
So next time he sees you, instead of jerking himself off alone, Jungkook knows he’ll ask you to give a helping hand.
Next
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Welcome to the land of sinning lmao hope you enjoyed this short ride! Let me know what you thought - it always motivates me to write more stuff like this ;)
All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.
#to give a helping hand#jungkook smut#jungkook x you#jungkook x reader#jungkook fic#jungkook#jjk smut#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk fic#jjk#jeon jungkook#jeon jungkook smut#jeon jungkook fic#jeon jungkook x you#jeon jungkook x reader#btswritersclub
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Two Idiots in Love
Miguel O'Hara x Reader
Warnings: Sex, P in V, choking, breeding kink, innuendos, Miguel it's fucking hard to talk to.
A/N: Hope you enjoy this, I haven't sleep well for three days trying to get it done, but it's finally here. Love y'all xoxox
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Ok, but what about you becoming an Spider just about a year ago?
You are managing just fine.
Things got nasty for a while, that’s true. Your uncle died, your new responsibilities caught up on you, you almost die fighting some bad guys on your first months… And now you just try to eat three times a day (sometimes it doesn’t happen), pray to get more than six hours of sleep and do good in college.
But then, out of fucking nowhere, just when you were making peace with what your life was now and who you are, your identity, your place in this big ass world where you were completely alone to bear this double life… This giant prick with sullen face and cheeks the size of the moon comes into your life to tell you you’re not alone, everyone here has experienced the same or worse, stop being so dramatic.
So, in a second, your protagonist moment turns to you finding out there were thousands like you out there. And your whole life goes upside down.
Because now you don’t have to protect and look out only for your Earth, your city; but everyone else’s too. You have to travel to the most craziest worlds you could’ve ever imagine and fight horrible creatures you couldn’t even conceive its existence. And to make things even worst, Mr. Wide Hindquarters took an special hold of you to help him out with anything he would be ‘to busy’ to do. Like inform new recruits about their missions, filling out reports, doing research either respecting to what he occupied in the laboratory or to some universe yet to be explored… Whatever he needed, you would be called in to do it.
Some Spiders told you you were lucky, not many could work that close to Miguel, let alone being in charge of so many things without screwing something up and getting ‘their head ripped’. Even Lyla tells you that you’re something special, specially on the hard days, that’s why Miguel trusts you so much. After that you would just smile tiredly at her, whispering it was okay. Then Lyla would go face Miguel and demand him with a raised eyebrow to give you a break.
You manage for a few months, surrendering yourself to this strange routine. And your even more strange companion.
Every day you walk in to his space, every day he is already there. You turn a personal mission to arrive before he does. You never make it. The man apparently didn’t sleep and you aren’t waking the fuck up at 3:00am to prove a point or find out. So you let it be as another mystery to be solved.
“Good morning.” You wave your hand at him, making your presence known with that. Sometimes between a yawn, sometimes still cleaning the sleepiness off of your eyes.
“Good morning…” He always adds your last name to his greetings. It makes you feel like you are being scolded. Most of the time he is at the tables, working through the screens; if he’s not there, he’s at the lab, measuring substances with the help of crystal clear instruments.
Without looking at you, he points with his chin to the steaming coffee under the express machine. Through the weeks he has learned exactly how you like it. The first ones he made you were exactly like his: Awful. That couldn’t be drinkable. But you thought it was nice of him to always have hot coffee for you, so you didn’t say anything. But the faces you made at every sip were worth a thousand words.
Now, as you drink today’s, you cannot avoid thinking how cute that big stoic man must look every morning pouring the exact amount of sugar and cream you like into the cup. Moving the liquid with a tiny spoon until is all mixed.
He doesn’t talk much.
No more than orders and “Go home” followed by a “Good night”. You let him be for the first weeks. Not your business. But after the first month you knew you would go crazy if you continued this way of living.
You needed to talk to him. You needed to make things less awkward. He was your only human contact sometimes for entire days, and you cannot stand the fact of barely talking to him.
You don’t have idea how does the term “coworkers” serves on his Earth, but in yours, Human Relationships are encouraged to happen for the sake of teamwork.
With that very idea well tangled on your mind, one of those long days, you take a deep breath, imagine him naked (which isn’t difficult to be honest), stare deep into the space and say:
“Sohowhaveyoubeen?” Squeaking as fast as you can.
Miguel stops whatever the hell he is doing and turns his head to the right, side eyeing you with a raised eyebrow. You don’t even look at him, continuing to fill the document in front of you with the most unstable smile he could have seen in his entire life. Then, he turns around again, coming back to typing into one of the screens. You almost think he has completely ignored you until he answers in another fast and neutral line:
“I’m good.”
You give him an acknowledging nod, smiling softly and returning to your duties.
You had never wished so much to be victim of a lost bullet. Like right now. Like right fucking now. Please.
For one more week you took another personal mission: making a question a day.
“How was your day?”, “Did you have breakfast?”, “How was yesterday’s mission?”… It would be a good day if you got more than a monosyllable for answer. It was embarrassing, really. And Lyla looking at you with a grimace made it ten times worst.
After that, you just came in the eighth day and remained silent, focused in finishing all your work as soon as possible rather than trying to make your prick boss to talk to you. You felt bad, actually. Maybe he just doesn't like to talk, maybe you were making him uncomfortable, maybe... Maybe he's just an arse. Yeah, that is probably the right...
"Hm? Uh, what... What is this?" You look up from your tablet, facing the broad of his back walking to the desk at the other side of the room. You raise an eyebrow at the small cardboard box in front of you, the one that Miguel just left there.
"Food." He says as answering the very question to the origin of the universe.
"For me?" You tilt your head and he looks at you like you were stupid. You frown. How were you supposed to know that, when he barely even looks at you?!
"I did too much." He explains. "... So I brought you some. You can throw it away if you don't want it."
You look down at the box again, watching it as the weirdest of things, and cannot help the little smile that creeps up to your lips. You knew Miguel didn't eat at the HQ cafeteria, since he owns an apartment close from here, so this was completely homemade. Hm, you never thought he was into cooking.
"Why can't I give it to someone else if I don't like it?" You respond with an easy smile, almost teasing him.
"Throw it." He sentences without even looking back at you.
You side eye Lyla at your left, who winks at you. This is a whole ass victory. And you and the little hologram girl knew internally Miguel did not like the day you decided to stop trying to talk to him.
"Thank you." You finally murmur. "I really appreciate it."
"It's just leftovers..."
You nod, pursing your lips and… Still smiling. Fuck it. It was obvious he was going to dismiss it with something like that.
None of you says anything else for the rest of the day, but you make the choice to keep trying on the small talk every day and Miguel, apparently, started to mess up the amount of ingredients for his meals and brings leftovers almost daily.
You continue with this new routine for another couple of weeks.
With the time passing, you gain more and more confidence to talk to the big guy. Most of the times he doesn’t engage in the conversation, it is just you saying your thoughts out loud and telling him everything about your life at college, 'till the point he has a personal beef with some of your classmates. I mean, he doesn’t say it but he surely grunts under his breath every time you mention their name.
Gwen did asked you at some point if he really listened to you or if he just... Left you. You wondered the same for exactly... two hours.
"... And I handed him my essay, right? And he looks at me and says: 'So are you going to tell me who is helping you with these or am I going to find out myself?' So I obviously told him nobody was helping me, I just like doing them. And he freaking threatened me saying that if he founds out he's going to fail me. Like... He doesn't even listens. Agh, he hates me..."
"Is the same one who got angry because you were late to his lecture about himself and his recently published book?" That was a week ago. And he remembered.
You nod, sighing. Miguel clicks his tongue, shaking his head with disapproval.
He might not be talkative (at least for now) but he listens to you. You have no doubt left about that. He may not say a single word while you drop a hundred for minute, but he would come the next day asking "How was the test?" or would know you have classes with that professor and add to his daily good night a soft "Good luck tomorrow." You even start catching him lifting the left corner of his lips when you drop a bad joke about all the things you need to get done by the end of the day or about something you heard on your way there.
You noticed it when certain Spider came in to a meeting, a Spider two days ago you and Miguel had gossiped about because you were told something by your friends on Wednesday, Miguel heard some more on Thursday and with a final comment you put the pieces together on Friday, looking at him with a wide proud open mouth as he shook his head with a soft chuckle. Talking to the Spider in question Miguel would turn to you with the most neutral and blank expression and you would still fight to hide your smile at the memory of everything you found out during the week. No one ever noticed and you liked it. Miguel liked it. It was like a private joke only the two of you could share.
"But what would happen?" This was the part Miguel didn't like. "Like, how would you know I would fuck up something?"
"You cannot give Noir a kaleidoscope." He sentences, giving you another raised eyebrow.
You were in the middle of the daily session of Instructive and Informative questions, according to Lyla and you. Miguel prefers to call them Destructive and Irritating.
After today's mission you had taken a particular soft spot fo the black and white Spider, to the misfortune of your boss. So the whole session has been about the long shot of taking special gifts from your dimension to him.
"But why? Really, what's the worst that could happen if I just give him a tiny little kaleidoscope?"
"Ay, Dios, dame paciencia... You already gave him a rainbow slinky spring toy, why do you keep insisting on gifting him more stuff?"
He fix his gaze on you as you lower your eyes down to your lap, fidgeting with your fingers. "... He just looks happy when he sees color."
Miguel sighs, pressing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger.
"I know, but every one of us needs to respect the natural order of our Earth. He shouldn't keep taking things with him that shouldn't be there, do you understand?"
"But..."
"No more 'but's'. I want those reports done by the end of the day." Miguel returns his eyes back to the screen in front of him, dismissing you just with that action. "Get to work instead of keep losing our time with this."
He hates the way you comply to his orders. Hates the way you leave the space beside him empty to go working at the other side of the room, where he can only see your back. He hates when you refuse him to see your face.
The human part in him hates the questioning sessions because they always end up with your heart too big for your own good, crushed a little bit more. The human part in him is what brings him closer to you after a few minutes, talking you through some trivial topics until he can convince you it is all not as bad a it seems, until you smile again when you insist it's okay, that you just needed a minute, that you understand. And he might o might not tell you can give Noir that fucking kaleidoscope if you want it so much.
But some deep and primal part in him whispers into his veins to walk up to you, take you by your jaw, forcing you to look up at him and order you you better not refuse your face to him one more single time again. That if he wishes to see your eyes, the curve of your nose or your lips, you better fucking show them to him... Every day. Every. Time. He. Wants. To.
He gets frustrated when he catches himself in the middle of those thoughts, of the drives. He has been able to control it magnificently 'till now. But he fears the day he won't.
For another while you enjoyed the 'leftovers' brought to you too. But it also came to happen the one day, they stopped being leftovers:
You yawn as you make your way to the exit of the lab, making sure your alarm for tomorrow is correctly scheduled, you can not afford another harsh look from your professors one more time. The building has fallen silent already; most of its ordinary inhabitants have already retired to their rooms or to their home worlds.
Miguel walks up to you from behind, watching you standing at the door. Neither of them managed to see even a ray of sun today. He didn't care, he had something much better to watch all day… But he can't help but sigh at the thought of taking it from you.
"Italian or Mexican?" You turn to look at him, barely catching what he said. Both of your brows furrow and he glares at you while adjusting the neck of his jacket on. "For tomorrow's lunch. You want me to bring Italian or Mexican?"
"Oh, uhm..." You widen your eyes, surprised by the consideration. Pursing your lips and squinting, you think about it for a second, but the only possible answer comes immediately after: "Mexican."
"Hm." He nods, fixing his eyes to the front again.
Both start walking now towards the exit of the building. You know you can open your portal to go back home now, but you refuse to do so. Miguel knows there's an exit on the other side of the lab that leads him to a closer path to his apartment, but he refuses to take it. Because you always take this one.
"It's getting chilly." You whisper, watching the first snowflakes of the season falling on the other side of the big windows in the lobby. Miguel hums in response. "I like it, though. The first month working with you I had to carry a fan with me everywhere. I am so sorry for the cost of the electricity bill back then."
Miguel tugs at one corner of his lips, but only that. You tilt your head, glaring at him for a second before you take two fast steps to put yourself in front of him. The poor man has to stick his feet to the floor to avoid knocking over you.
He frowns, confused, and you look up at him with those same eyes filled with determination you put on when you look at the cookies he always -purposely- leaves on top of the highest cupboard in his office. He could only describe it as the face of a master plan, because you would always come back with ideas to get them down without asking him for help. And he loved to play guess with what you would do this time.
"Smile for me." You ask as you were some kind of cameraman, and if he was confused before he's into a new level now.
"What?"
"Y'know..." You bring both of your index fingers to the opposite sides of your face and part your own lips into a simple smile, like showing him what he was supposed to do.
"I know what smiling is." He frowns. "Why do you want me to do it?"
You shrug. "I just... I would be really happy to see it."
Miguel's expression remains unfazed, but he prays to every God out there you can't listen how hard his heart jumped inside his chest when your words reached him.
He swallows. His eyes fix on you and he brings both of the corners of his mouth up, exposing bright teeth and two big fangs that brush on his lower lip in the most precious awkward smile you could have ever seen. His brows are drawn together and he looks like he's in pain, and you know that even if a fucking meteor crashed down in the city right now, you still wouldn't be able to look away.
You clear your throat and lament how his smile is gone as soon as it came. You brush your hand at the back at your neck, nervous, fucking ashamed of your imprudence. Miguel raises an eyebrow at your reaction.
"Thank you. That was nice of you." You smile, avoiding his eyes and solely focusing on the snow awaiting for you. "I'm sorry if it was unpleasant for you. I didn't mean..."
Your words get caught up in your throat when you suddenly feel the texture of fabric coming around your neck. You turn back to look at the front again only to find Miguel tugging his scarf on you, with his fingers making sure it hugged every part of your skin your sweater couldn't.
"Miguel, no. It's even colder here than on my Earth. You need this more than I do." You frown with a worried expression washing over your features.
"You'll come back tomorrow pretty early. And it's going to be cold." You could try and argue about you having your own scarfs to bring tomorrow with you, but his eyes tell you he is not asking.
"... Thank you."
Miguel laments the moment your turn around, laments the moment you don't look at him anymore. He is sure the smile from a minute ago hadn't been anywhere near one of his best, and yet your eyes shone with the light of all the moons he's seen in all of the Earths he has visited.
And as you do a little wave when you start walking away before entering your portal, Miguel waves back, slowly and with only two unsure swings of his wrist. It was enough to make you smile anyway. It was enough to keep him standing there even after you were long gone wondering what the hell he was doing.
When Miguel began to bring food made specially to share, you began to bring desserts from your Earth for him to try.
You both started having lunch together after you told him how tired you were of eating while standing. Don't get me wrong, when you first told him he 'offered' you to go eat at the cafeteria if you wanted it so much. But when he dismisses you for the second time the next day with a 15 minute break to go find somewhere to sit, you, instead, sit down reluctantly at the very center of his work space, just a few meters behind him.
Miguel has to do a fucking double take to make sure he is seeing right before turning around at you calmly crossing your legs on the floor and unboxing today's meal with abrupt and resigned movements.
"Could you be so kind as to explain to me what you are doing?" He tilts his head with amusement when you take the first bite of your food.
"Eating."
"Sitting on the floor?" He raises an eyebrow.
"Sitting on the floor." You nod.
"Care to explain why?" He crosses his arms, pursing his lips when you refuse to raise your eyes at him.
"... Because of you." You murmur, taking another unnecessarily aggressive bite.
"Elaborate, please."
You keep on looking down, chewing the morsel in your mouth. Miguel awaits for you with well known experienced patience. By now, he recognizes when you are mad at him or the world, he sees how you fight to keep calm inside of all of this mess, that's why he always tries to encourage you to talk out the things that bother you, because he's there, he can listen; because he likes the way you smile after you let it all out.
And maybe...
"I don't care about eat sitting comfortably at the cafeteria. I want to eat with you. So if you want to stay here be my fucking guest. I'm staying here too."
Because you were the only one who could throw a tantrum at Miguel O'Hara without flinching.
You have earned that right. You didn't know when, because you insist you don't throw tantrums at him; you're a college student, basically an adult, you don't do tantrums. And still...
"Fine, spoiled girl..." He sighs, walking to get his own little box from the table and then coming to close the space between the two with a few long steps. He sits down right beside you, imitating the way you're crossing your legs. "If you want to eat on the floor, we can eat on the floor."
"I'm not spoiled." You hiss, giving him a deadly side eye that puts on a soft, almost unnoticeable grin on his face. Lyla had made fun of him a few days ago about him spoiling you, but instead of getting on his nerves he took a liking for the nickname. And now you suffer the consequences of it all. "And we wouldn't be eating on the floor if you decided to go to the cafeteria for once."
"... I hate talking to people."
You sigh, nodding. That's exactly why you never push him to do anything of that sort.
"I know." You turn to look at him out of the corner of your eye, noticing how he keeps his head low while eating. "Hey" You call for his attention, smiling. He blinks up to you, tilting his head. "It's okay." Your shoulder drops to his arm. "I like being here. I'm not stuck with you, you're stuck with me."
That makes his eyes catch a little bit more of light.
"Thank you." He whispers.
You stare at him for a second more and he fights to put all of the mess inside his head, his feelings, into his tongue... But he can't. You continue eating, and he knows you would never hold a grudge on him for it, and he's so thankful for that, for you being able to understand the way his actions speak when his words can't. But he still aches at the thought of never being able to tell you everything he wants.
The next morning you walk in to find out a new cleared space beside the screens with an elegant glass table and two chairs. It surely looked expensive, like everything he does and has, but for you, it's just the little corner where you can leave that particular cake from your Earth he seems to like so much, and then go to the laboratory to see the cake you seemed to like so much.
After two more weeks enjoying the day-to-day in the usual things in your life, you and Miguel got to a mission which revealed as the true calmness before the storm.
The anomaly you had fought was stronger than expected, more aggressive, more letal. Everyone had run lucky at least two times to escape from its claws, but you can still remember their closeness, the screams, the sirens at the distance. It all almost ends up with another canonic event altered.
"There's always a first time." Jessica had told you when you finally finished off the anomaly. She was worried about you, and you can't blame her. You haven't even registered how bad you were trembling until it was all over.
"Is there going to be a last time?" You replied, looking up at her with big eyes. And Miguel, only a few meters behind you, still trying to give some last orders to every Spider there, felt his heart breaking at the very sound of your words.
Nevertheless, thankfully, the universe remained perfectly fine and just a couple of hours later everyone was back home safely again. Most returned immediately to their Home Earths, but you, Miguel, Jessica, Lyla and a couple more had ten thousand things to do in the HQ before calling it a day.
"I thought I told you to go home an hour ago." Miguel points, coming from behind you.
You turn your head to look up at him and you can't not smile at the sight. The feeling of safeness that floods you when you see his huge figure entering any room hasn't wavered for a single second. He's still that solid ground you can always rest on when the world is to heavy to carry alone.
"I'm serious. What are you doing here?" He continues, grunting in pain when he drops his weight beside you. You turn to him, furrowing your brows in worry again. He had seen that expression in you so often today... And he hates it so much. "I'm okay. Just little scratches here and there."
You withdrawn your feet from the edge of the building where you had them hanging for an hour now and crawl your way to him, sitting down on your knees to try to be eye height with him.
Your right hand wanders to his bruised neck, there where the anomaly had left his horrible mark of the violence it brought within. You follow with your index the way the clotted blood draws on his skin, sending shivers down his spine.
"Does it hurt?" You ask.
"No." He responds in between goosebumps.
He loves the effect your touch has on him. He loves your little hands looking for him, tugging at his clothes to call for his attention, brushing against his when you pass him the tablet, documents, anything. He loves the busy days where he doesn't have time to eat, where he wouldn't eat if it wasn't for you sitting beside him as he works on the screens, you scrolling through your cellphone, taking little pieces of food with a spoon or a fork to bring them closer to his mouth so he could eat without even taking his eyes off the screen.
Ridiculous? Yeah. But he loved the intimacy within. The many forms your soft hands could soothe him.
But his? He hated them. He was scared of them. Their only use was to destruct, to tear flesh apart, not to...
"Show me." He asks, pointing with his chin at your left hand placed softly above your thigh.
"It's nothing."
"Let me see it." He insist and you carefully bring your arm up, placing your fingers against his when he holds out his hand for you. Your whole palm is bandaged, the work the doctor did on you was amazing, but he can still see dried blood on it.
He doesn't say anything when he finds your eyes on him, conflicted, hesitant. There is so much between both of you, so much unsaid, so much still to do. But he sees your doubt, he hates to be the cause of it. He stays still, but he wants to scream at you, to make your little head understand: "How can't you see?! Can't you see how much you mean to me?! You're the only thing in my mind when I'm fighting, because I know I have to win, I have to get out alive to see you again. Eres lo único por lo que mi corazón llama!... Can't you not hear it?"
Instead, the tips of his fingers brush on your skin, his eyes reflecting every single light of the city below.
"Come." It's only a whisper that leaves his mouth, and you need nothing more to jump into his embrace with a desperate sigh, immediately cuddling yourself up on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck, looking for his warm.
Hold.
He loves to hold you.
His hands serve to hold you.
To hold you against him, to protect you from anyone who wants to rip you away from his arms. To keep you warm, to keep you safe, to let you know you're home.
"Aquí estoy." He whispers.
"I know." You reply.
You breath into his scent for a couple of minutes more, until the screams and the sirens fell low to the sound of Miguel's chest going up and down in a soothing swing, his breathing, turning into the only thing you could listen to.
By the time you got your head out of his neck, he was already waiting for you with a soft smile, smile that puts your attention on the deep cut on his lower lip.
"What happened?" You ask, carefully pulling from his flesh to see the whole extension of the wound.
He sighs, closing his eyes with embarrassment. "I bit myself during the fight."
You smile, shaking your head. Your fingernail taps against the right fang in question, testing the edge by gently pressing the tip into your fingertip.
"I hate them." Miguel breaths out. His eyes are now so dim that you struggle to say where are they looking at in the middle of the night darkness.
"Why?" You whisper, taking your finger back at his lip.
"Because I fear of them. I fear they'll hurt you like they hurt me."
You purse your lips and then take his hand placed on your hip, looking back at him with raised eyebrows.
"Is the same with these?"
He nods.
"They are made to kill. I have done so many horrible things with, caused so much damage and pain, I..."
"Did you know I'm scared of heights?" His trail of words stop at your interruption. You smile, looking down from the edge, turning away form him just a little. "Ironic, for a Spider. But I still fight with it every single day. I always get so sticky when I'm on top of a building for too long it's embarrassing but..." You raise your hand in front of him, waving your fingers with a playful smile. "I'm not sticky now. And that it's because you're holding me." You cup his face. "Those things you're afraid of, are part of the person I love. And I wouldn't change a single thing."
"Mi cielo..."
"I knew what I was getting into when I decided to love you, Miguel, so don't get all soft now. I'm not going anywhere..." You whisper. "Make me bleed."
He would be lying if he said he haven't thought about it, that he haven't succumbed to his most animalistic urges when alone in the privacy of his room, pretending it was you around his cock and not his fist. He wanted to bite, he wanted to fill you. And he wanted to tear apart with his bare talons anyone and anything that got in his way.
A part of him might be scared to hurt you, yes.
But a bigger part of him was actually scared of what he would do to keep you safe. Of what he's capable of... to keep you his.
He feels sorry for you when you cuddle against his chest in your sleep as he stands up and starts walking back inside the building, covering you with his jacket to protect from the cold wind of the city for when he swings back to his apartment with you in his arms.
He feels sorry for the innocence in your love.
Like a beast, that's what he was. A beast who loved the softness in your touch, the kind in your words. But cannot return the same love. The beast is possessive, jealous of the very air that caresses your hair. And it may act vulnerable only to you, letting you get as close to slaughter him, but knowing you'll place a kiss instead. The beast would hold you as his own treasure, a creature that must not be hurt, not even for his own hands. He would cut them off before.
He would cut them off from anyone before they touch you. For no one should ever touch what he decided, that very morning you asked how he had been, would belong to him.
AND EVERYTHING WOULD HAVE CONTINUED ON GOING SO SMOOTHLY... BUT THE DAAAAAAAAMN FINALS, ah, made their entrance.
You barely have time to sleep, to eat, to fucking breathe. Your levels of anxiety are higher than the HQ damn building and your brain is so overworked you cannot do more than what you're asked to in autopilot. You know that you're only going to be like this for approximately another two weeks, but your poor lover has suffered the last four days thinking you're sick, or sad, or worse... Mad at him. No, not in that order.
"Arañita..." He calls for you. Your hand moving over your notebook at one hundred km per hour concerns him.
"The reports are done. Peter from -5266 and Hugh from -1993 are out right now. They should be getting back at any minute. Anomaly #125 was sent to its original universe this morning." You push the tablet to him with your free hand without even looking up or slowing down your writing.
"Thank you, but..." He tilts his head, furrowing his brows. "Are you okay?"
"Yes. I just need to get this done before four. By the way, can I leave early today? I need to study for tomorrow's test."
"Again? Didn't you have one yesterday?"
"Yes. We're on finals, Miguel. We tend to have a lot of them these days. That's why I'm losing my mind over here."
"Just for some tests?" You have to stop yourself to remind you it's not his fault to be smart. It's not his fault being more intelligent than almost every person you knew. It's not his fault he doesn't know what is to struggle on school. It's not his fault, It's not his fault, It's not his fault... "You haven't even touched your food." He says, looking at the little box he got you with the meal now cold.
"I... I know. I'm sorry, Mig." You sigh, looking up at him for the first time in the day. "I'm just really stressed out right now. But I promise I'll take it back home later, okay?"
This was also the fourth day you didn't stay at his place. My man doesn't want to be a burden, but he has attachment issues, ok?, and after the week you spent sleeping in his arms, it may or may not be that Miguel has been having trouble falling asleep without the weight of your body on his chest.
After watching you leave that day, Miguel found himself staying till unreasonable hours of the early morning working in the lab. There was no point on going back to his cold apartment anyway... And he had a lot of things to get done. He didn't have time to...
"Oh, it's you." Miguel jumps in his place at the sudden voice calling from behind. "I thought that poor girl had stayed here, with all the things she seems to be doing these days."
The man shakes his head, ignoring Jessica closing the distance behind him, leaning against the door frame. Miguel can almost make out the little smile on her lips without turning around, and that only infuriates him even more.
"And why do you look like a caged lion?" She mocks. "Trouble in paradise?"
Miguel's first instinct is snap back at her and ask her to leave him alone. He knows she would comply, what he doesn't know is how benefic that would be for his current situation.
"I don't know what's going out with her." He admits, letting his head fall in irritation. "She says she's having some tests right now, but she's just to... Stressed? I don't know. She's so smart I cannot conceive how bad this is affecting her." The laugh that emanates from Jessica's throat makes his ears go red. "What?"
"Oh, babe, when was the last time you went to college?" Jessica puts both of her hands on her waist, pursing the lips to avoid smiling again.
"Why is that important?"
"When, Miguel?" She demands.
"Ugh... I don't know. Like four-five years ago."
"When was the last time you failed a class?"
"Never." He immediately responds.
"When was the last time grades were important on your Earth?"
Miguel frowns. "I don't remember. The path for learning had changed long before I was born. I don't even think I ever had something like a grade. We were judged individually for our skills and our intelligence type. Not memorization."
"Exactly." She claps, pointing at him with a all-knowing finger. "Thanks to that you got the chance to develop your true abilities as a student, but our girl from 2023 it is not beneficiary of this privilege. She doesn't get the chance to strengthen in what she is good, she must memorize and memorize and memorize over and over again. Because the tests on her Earth aren't done with the purpose of just checking how is her knowledge progressing, they are done to see if she's worthy of continuing forward in her very career."
Miguel remains silent for a minute, swallowing all the new information by pieces. For someone so smart, Jessica has never see him seem so lost. The nuts in his brain begin to turn and turn until his eyes seem to light up with the clarity of the light of the new world.
"Hm." He nods. "Thank you."
The woman knows he doesn't need anything more when he turns around, typing into one of the screens something that escapes from her eyes.
During the rest of the two weeks of finals, Miguel tried to do his best to support you.
He even read all of the information about your education system, striving to understand everything in just a couple of nights.
He's a man on a mission: letting you know he's there, that you're strong and smart, and you can do it.
While you study in the lab, he leaves you be. He gets you coffee, or tea, or anything you prefer. He might even hiss at people entering his space (your space) making too much noise, pointing at you with his chin and threatening eyes.
"Hey, girl..." Peter B. comes in one morning, moving nervously under the scrutinizing gaze of your lover. "Don't be so harsh on yourself..." He gives you some awkward pats on the back, smiling. "You're doing great."
That was all it took.
"No, I'm not!" You weep, letting your head fall on the desk, shaking between sobs.
"Great. Ya la hiciste llorar." Miguel pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing. "Here, give it to her." He calls for Peter's attention, handing him an specific chocolate.
Peter takes it with confused eyes, offering it to you, reaching out his arm as if he were to touch you, you'll explode.
"Here." He says. "Look what I got."
You raise your eyes, meeting the little packing. Then, when you look at him, Peter almost thinks he just made all worst.
"Oh, Peter... Thank you!" You take the chocolate, pulling from him to a big hug. "I love these so much, thank you! You're so kind!"
Peter lets you be, looking back at Miguel who just nods at him to let him know this wasn't his first rodeo. He pats your back, soothing you with some more nervous words until you're ready to let him go.
If you're really struggling, Miguel won't think twice to help you. He's smart, it takes him nothing more than a look to his old notes or a quick search on the internet (specially if you're studying something science related or an engineering, if you're on law or arts, oh boy, you're gonna make this man suffer) to know exactly what you need and make sure you're taking that fucking project tomorrow.
Some other days, he just catches you sleeping with your hands crossed above the table and your saliva drooling out to your notes. His jacket would then come over you, after, he would take your pending stuff and start solving problems and making notes for you to have it easier at the memorizing part of the study.
You always wake up to see the edges of your paper full of arrows, little equations and encircled key words. And, sometimes, a tired Miguel sleeping uncomfortably by your side, just waiting for you to tell him it's time to go.
The day, a Friday, where you're finally done with college (at least for a couple of months) Miguel felt it like the day his soul came back to his body.
You are smiling all day again, calling his name, doing a mess all over the whole building. And he can not be more happy about it.
He might never tell you, me might even justify himself saying he had been staying up late working in the lab every time you ask for the bags under his eyes. Because he's definitely not telling you there were nights where he couldn't even close his eyes 'cause you weren't there with him.
"Time to go home." You hum behind him, getting all of your stuff inside your backpack.
"Thank God" He rubs his neck, walking closer to you to give you a soft kiss on the forehead. "I'm dying."
You yawn, nodding. "Me too. These weeks drained me."
"Me too." He repeats, and you don't know how much he means it. "Let's just go to sleep, yeah? Hopefully tomorrow there won't be so much to do."
You smile, leaning into his embrace as you walk out the door, hearing the lights turning off as both come closer and closer to the exit.
"Yeah, that sounds good."
"Okay."
"Okay."
Miguel steadies your body by pressing down on your hips, keeping your ass on the bed. You try to push his face out of between your thighs but he refuses to pull apart.
"Miguel!" You cry out, tears rolling down your cheeks cause of the overstimulation he was putting you in. "Too much, too much..."
His fingers curl inside you one more time, and your arch your back, almost rolling your eyes at the feeling. His tongue flicks over your sensitive bud again, dragging choked moans out of you. You try to squirm away but his hands pull you from your ass back at him as soon as you start moving.
"Easy there, Arañita. I'm almost done." He smiles up at you, letting you see the lower half of his face completely covered in your arousal.
"Mig... Mi amor..." You breath out, trying to push him out again when his chuckle crashes against your folds.
"One more, love, and you'll be ready for me." He sucks on your clit as he speaks, moving his fingers with an slower pace now. "Uno más, mamita, dame uno más."
He pushes his face down on you, working his tongue all around your most needy spot with his digits burying now deep inside you, hitting that soft place between your walls that makes you want to cry. You're a mess of moans and whimpers by now, but when his teeth slowly press on your clit, it's over for you. Your eyes roll back, your thighs tremble around him, encaging him in his favorite prison as he guides you through it, moaning into your skin when he feels your pleasure dripping on him, motivating his hips to hump against the mattress as a fucking teenager would do.
After you get down from your high, you look up at him to find him positioning himself between your legs, dragging the tip of his cock up and down on your folds.
"Miguel, wait, I'm..."
"You know your safe word, mamita, you can make me stop whenever you want." He places your legs on his shoulders and his hands on your hips, keeping you just as he wishes to. "I'm going in, and I want your eyes on me all the time I fuck you, ¿me entiendes, hermosa?"
You nod, watching the point where both of your bodies would join. He enters slowly, giving you time to adjust his size. But after the first hint of your hips trying to feel him even more, he pulls back and thrusts all the way in, making your head fall back as your back arches.
His right hand grabs you by the jaw, forcing you to open your eyes and observe how red his irises had turned.
"Eyes on me."
His pace speeds up, bottoming out with every thrust he makes. Your hands push at his lower abdomen, biting your lip to avoid crying out loud again.
"Too fast, Mig. Too much." You moan, your still overstimulated clit rips another whimper from you every time his happy trail and trimmed hair crashes against it. You were barely holding on, but your lover can't never get enough. His body reaches down, and as he places one hand around your neck, his other thumb toys at your clit in a excruciating pace. "Fuck! No, Miguel."
You tremble under him, wrapping your legs around his waist when you cannot think about anything more than cumming. Your nails bury on the skin of his back, dragging an out of breath grunt out of him.
"I'm, I'm cum-" You try to voice but nothing in your brain seems to work anymore.
"Do it, love. I got you." He keeps up his pace, almost kissing your cervix by now. "Cum for me, mi amor."
His hand squeezes a little bit harder on your neck and you need nothing else to see fucking white. Your mouth opens in a big O before your start trembling, shaking uncontrollably under his body, letting out the sweetest of sounds for him to hear.
He grunts, falling into the crock of your neck when you tighten your walls around him.
"I'm going to fucking fill you." He's out of breath and he curses something in Spanish you cannot make out. "I'm going to put a baby on your tummy, mamita..."
"Miguel..." You were on the verge of tears again, you cannot longer feel your legs but you surely can feel him deep inside you.
"Yes, love. Fuck... I'm cumming. I'm..." He bites down on your flesh, sinking his fangs into your skin when his hips stutter. His talons grow so big they dig into the headboard.
You moan at the feeling, hugging your body to his until he can breath normal again.
When he looks back at you his eyes have returned to that soft brown you're used too.
"Are you okay?" He asks, sending shivers down your spine when he caresses the sore skin.
"Yes." You smile and he traps your lips into a kiss. "And now I'm really fucking tired."
He chuckles, lifting his weight onto his forearms.
"Come here, amor. Let's take a shower so you can rest comfortably." He places another soft peck on your forehead. "I'll wash your hair."
You definitely know he will do more than that.
PD: Tbh with you guys, all I could think about while writing this was this tiktok:
#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara imagine#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel o'hara x you#miguel ohara#miguel ohara x reader#miguel ohara x y/n#miguel o'hara smut#miguel ohara fluff#miguel ohara smut#spiderman 2099#across the spiderverse#atsv#peter b parker
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Such a Good Girl
Dom! Eddie Munson x Sub! Girly! Reader
Warnings: (not pre-read well, apologize for some errors, I wrote his half awake) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! smut, fingering, oral (f & m receiving), piv, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), bit of fluff, reader is an "innocent" slut (I'm not sorry about it), pet names (Bunny, Baby), Kinks (breeding, sub/dom relationship, reader has a pile of stuffed animal that he literally fucks her on, have fun lol)
Summary: Eddie sneaks into your window to find you getting ready for bed. But he was other plans for your evening.
A/n: I wrote this half asleep and it is pure filth. I haven't written smut in a HOT minute and this was me kind of getting a practice run to write the smut for a later fic with a certain character reader I fear people are BEGGING from this blog. Enjoy!
If you wanna be tagged when I post ask or comment telling me so!
All Pics from Pinterest!
Eddie parks his car down the road, not wanting to alarm your parents with his van sitting outside. He walks all the way up to your house, jumping your white picket fence and making his way towards the backyard. He knows which window is yours, having snuck in a few times before. He climbs up the lattice on the side of the brick wall of your house, making his way up to your window. He places his feet firmly on the roof that sticks out, looking into your window.
There you are, his beautiful sweet girl, brushing your hair at your vanity. Your cute flowy nightgown makes you look like you stepped right out of a 1960’s magazine. Your window is open a bit, letting in the cool air of the night.
He knocks on the glass, startling you a bit and almost making your drop your hair brush. You turn and immediately smile at him. You walk over and open the window more, letting the rocker inside. “Hi, Eddie.” You giggle as he stumbles in, nearly tripping over your lace curtains. “Hi, sweetheart.” He straightens himself out before closing the window, “you look cute.” Your cheeks flush a bit at the compliment. You aren’t used to compliments yet, but Eddie is determined to make sure you know your worth.
“I’m sorry for coming so late, were you about to go to bed?” He asks, glancing over at the pink comforter with multiple stuffed animals on it. You shake your head, climbing onto the bed and grabbing one of the plushies, holding them close to your heart. It was one he got you, a little bunny with big floppy ears, Mr Flospy is what you named him.
Eddie sits on the edge of the bed, reaching over and pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I don’t wanna keep you up, Princess, you need your beauty sleep.” You look up at him, your eyes glistening a bit in the light from your bedside lamp. “But you just got here…” Eddie smiles and holds out his arms, and you immediately tackle him in a hug, Mr Flopsy still in your arms. “I don’t want you to go, please stay.” You nuzzle your nose into his neck, and he hums, enjoying the feeling. “Bunny,” the nickname earns a whimper from you, it’s your favorite, “you said you want me to stay?” He clarifies, leaning you back into your stuffies. You nod, holding Mr Flopsy to your chest.
“Bunny,” Eddie leans over you and kisses your forehead, “have you been a good girl?” You nod again, your thighs pressing together. “Use your words, sweetheart.” “Y-Yes… I’ve been a good girl…!” Eddie loves these moments, your cheeks flushed and beautiful eyes blown. “Hmm,” he leans down and kisses your soft pink lips, he can tell you have on a cherry chapstick. He kisses you a few times, earning little whimpers from you, before moving down your jaw and neck.
“E-Eddie…” you grip at his vest, legs already getting shaky and he hasn’t even done anything other than kiss you. “Bunny, relax, you’re working yourself up.” He runs his palms over your thighs, securing his hips in between them. “Such a pretty girl,” he nibbles a bit at your collarbone, earning a gasp from you, “Quiet, sweetheart, don’t want your parents hearing their little girl being a total slut, do you?” You glance away from him, the blush on your cheeks expanding out to your ears. He knows what you like, what you need.
He lifts your nightgown a little rubbing his ringed fingers over your panties. You grip his arm, not wanting him to pull away. His fingers dip under the fabric, beginning to rub circles over your clit. You swear he can do what ever he wants to you, you’d obey everything he told you to do gladly if this was the reward.
Eddie sighs into you ear, watching you twitch at the attention he’s giving your most sensitive place. His hot breath on your skin makes you shiver, along with the soft but firm circles his fingers dance over your clit. You feel your breath catch, a knot already forming in your stomach. “E-Eddie…”
“God, you’re so easy…” Eddie moves his hand a little lower into your underwear, slowly inserting two fingers in see to you. You grip his arm tighter, a soft gasp leaving your lips that makes him smirk. “What? What is it, Baby…? Fuck, are you drooling?” He places his free hand under your chin and whips away the bit of saliva that leaks from the corner of your mouth, watching you begin to pant a bit just from his fingers curling inside you.
You moan, your hand smacking against your mouth to muffle it. Eddie only smiles wider at this, removing his hand from your underwear, getting you to pout. He’s quick to remove the garment, sliding it down your legs then dropping it over the side of your bed. He places his hands on your thighs, spreading your legs so he can see all of you.
“Fuck, Bunny, you’re dripping.” He lowers himself down, leaving soft kisses down on your abdomen. “So needy,” he kisses lower and lower, before leaving one right on your clit, earning another moan from you.
You reach down and tangle your fingers in his hair as he finally places his mouth to your cunt. God the feeling…
“E-Eddie…!” One hand moves to shove two fingers back inside you as his tongue laps around. He’s learned your body, what you like, and how to work it.
He buries his head into your cunt, sucking on your clit as his fingers pump inside you. You wreath at the feeling, lifting your hips off your bed from the pleasure. He takes this as encouragement, wrapping his other arm under you and moving his fingers faster.
It doesn’t take long before you’re shaking, oozing all over his face. He pulls away and pushes your legs up as he gets closer once more, pressing his clothed crotch to your soaked cunt.
“Fuck, you feel that, Bunny?” Of course you do, his large, hard cock fighting to get out of his pants as he grinds against you. “Do you want me to fuck you?” His question is rhetorical but you still answer anyways. “Please… E-Eddie, please…”
He unbuttons his pants, yanking them down and tossing them away, then the same with his boxers. His cock springs free, earning a soft gasp from you.
God, it looks so good…
“You’re drooling again, Bunny.” But this time he doesn’t wipe away the spit, instead he pulls away from you all together. “Do you wanna suck it?”
You don’t even hesitate as you push yourself out of the pile of stuffed animals, crawling onto your stomach in front of him. You grab his cock, immediately shoving your face into his crotch. He groans as you lick up his shaft, your nose taking in the musky scent. “That’s it, Bunny.”
You take the tip of his dick in your mouth, not wanting to wait anymore. You have to open your mouth a bit wider to fit him, but you love to do so. Eddie combs his fingers into your hair before gripping a chunk, “come on, Bunny, you can do better than that.” He slowly pushes your head down, which you happily take.
Before long your nose is brushing into his hair, his cock deep in your throat as it twitches. You’re drooling so much. You moan, sucking his cock as you hollow your cheeks. You move your tongue skillfully, just like he trained you.
“You’re doing so good, Bunny. Just like that. Such a good girl.” He moved his hips back before thrusting forward, earning a throaty moan from you. You try not to gag, angling yourself just right to where he’s not agitating it.
He thrusts into your mouth again, making your thighs press together. You begin to bob your head with his thrusts, pairing it perfectly so that when he slams back in, you push your head against him too. He gets a bit rough, beginning to thrust faster and harder until you can control the angle anymore. You gag, but don’t pull away, honestly you can’t. His hand holds your head down as he uses your throat like a toy.
And then he yanks you off, your throat sore as you try to catch your breath. He shoves you back into your stuffed animals, before grabbing your legs and lifting them up to your head. You blush, embarrassed at this position. But you don’t have long to think about it before he’s climbing on top of you and rubbing his dick along you.
“Eds…” you moan out as you feel his tip press to your cunt. He wraps his arms around you, locking you in place, before thrusting his hips forward, his cock going deep inside you.
You gasp, your mind blanking as he begins to thrust hard and faster, using your cunt for his own pleasure. You moan, your bed squeaking as you take his cock. “Look at you, taking my cock so well.” He mumbles into your ear.
You pant as you feel him twitch inside you, your cunt already becoming sore from the abusive thrusts. But you don’t care, how could you? Your pussy is being used for what it was made for.
You cum hard on his cock, squeezing around him until you see stars but he doesn’t stop. If anything he’s thrusting harder, pounding you in as you become a panting, moaning mess.
He’s fucking you stupid.
“Such a good girl, taking my dick so deep.” His cock pistons in and out of you, your mind foggy as you just take it. You have to be good and just take it, or you won’t get your reward.
He groans as his thrusts get sloppy, hitting certain angles that’s has you wreathing. “Eddie!”
He’s quick to silence you, one hand quickly wrapping around your throat and giving a good solid squeeze that has you coming undone on his cock again. “I’m gonna fucking breed you.” He groans into your ear. “Gonna fill you up just how you want, fuck you full.”
You’re gasping for air as you cum on his cock again, but this time, he thrusts a few more times before he finally thrusts deep inside you one last time. You feel the warmth of his cum gush inside you, moaning at the feeling. You need him, you need him to fucking ruin you. Imagine what people would say if he got you pregnant? Your family would be furious…
You hope he did.
You both sit there for a while, basking in the post sex glow. He’s collapsed on top of you, pinning you still to your bed. You don’t mind, your arms wrapped around him as his cock is still buried inside you.
He kisses you lovingly, smothering you in them as you giggle. “You’re so pretty,” his voice is horse, but you understand him well enough.
You snuggle into his neck, still a bit dazed. “I love you.” The words slip out so effortlessly, but of course they do. It’s Eddie.
“I love you,” he smiles into your hair, nuzzling into the strands.
Then you hear a door down the hall open. The hall light flicks on. Eddie scurries off you, grabbing his clothes off the floor and hiding behind the door. You wobbly get up from the bed, but you don’t have time to put on your underwear before a knock comes from your door.
“Sweetie? You alright?” Your dad calls from the other side. You take a deep breath, straightening your 60’s nightgown so it’s just covering you. You open the door just enough to pop your head out. “Yes, Dad?” You smile at the older man, trying to put on this innocent look.
“Are you alright?” He goes to lift his hand, placing it against your forehead, “You feel warm, are you catching a fever?” “Oh, no, I…” you try to think of something quick, “I just had a nightmare. Sorry if I woke you.”
You feel Eddie’s cum starting to drip out of your used cunt, and you try to press your legs together a bit to stop it.
“Are you sure? Do you need some water?” He looks over your face once more. “No, no, really, I’m good. Go back to bed, Dad. I’ll see you in the morning.” You give him a smile and he nods before walking off again. You shut your door slowly, hearing it click into the hold.
“Well,” Eddie comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you, “You need to be more quiet next time.” You go to turn around but he stops you, holding you in place in front of him. “Oh, Bunny,” he trails his hand down your front, “you’re letting too much out, we can’t have that.”
Oh tonight’s on a be a long night.
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Passing the Phone
f1 grid x reader
warnings: cussing, unhinged, satire, complete jokes (are they?...), dark humor ig…idk, talk of age gaps, sa allegations, no just kidding...very much reading people to the filth
authors note: lmaoo don’t ask me why i wrote this cause idk…but this is so unhinged 😭😭 please don’t take offense to this and if you do…i said don’t…all jokes i love them, some of them, you can find it funny or you won’t, just wanted to get this out of my drafts
want to be tagged in my works?! CLICK HERE!
f1 masterlist
Video starts with Y/N holding the phone, in selfie mode.
Y/N: I'm passing the phone to someone who had the biggest breakup in F1 history with a blond German boy named Nico.
Lewis: Babe, no!
Y/N: What, too soon? It's been years but okay! Sorry! Okay, let me start again. I'm passing the phone to someone who said "Fuck Mercedes" and is going to Ferrari for 2025!
Lewis: Y/N, no!! You cannot say that! You’re gonna get me in trouble!!
Y/N: Fine, fine, fine. I'm passing the phone to the GOAT of this generation with the most wins in F1 history, yet he was robbed of the championship in 2021.
Y/N passes the phone to Lewis.
Lewis: stares at Y/N then laughs “I'm passing the phone to someone who is known more for his memes than driving skills.”
Lewis passes the phone to George.
George: laughs “Hahaha real funny…I'm passing the phone to someone who took six years to get their first win."
Lando: “Dude, what the fuck?! Fuck you, Woody! I'm passing the phone to someone who's younger than me yet acts years older than me.”
Oscar: “....You're not funny... I'm passing the phone to someone who's most likely losing their seat next season.”
Logan: “The fuck, Oscar! I thought we were friends! Low blow, mate. I'm passing the phone to someone who has yet to get P1, yet all his friends who got into F1 after him have won races already.”
Alex: “....And that, Logan, is why you're losing your seat. Mr. What The Fuck is A Kilometer. Anyway, I'm passing the phone to someone who just got brutally murdered by an interviewer on Sky Sports regarding their F1 career, if you could call it that.”
Daniel: “You shouldn’t be talking Mr. I Have No Wins….eat shit…I'm passing the phone to the shortest person on the grid but cusses more than anyone here.”
Yuki: “That interviewer was right, why the fuck do you still have a seat in F1?!! Dickhead. I'm passing the phone to a man with good fashion sense and his teammate might steal his seat.”
Zhou: “Bro….really. I'm passing the phone to someone who acts like he's Australian when he’s not…oh, and his seat is at risk too.”
Bottas: “Yeah, yeah, whatever mate. I'm passing the phone to someone who has enough penalties in just nine races that he can be banned from racing in F1… permanently.
Kevin: “You're so funny, Bottas, hahaha…ha. I'm passing the phone to a dickhead.”
Nico: “Fuck you too asshole. I'm passing the phone to a person who has a shitty ass dad who deserves to be in jail.”
Max: burst out laughing “Ah, no lies told there. I'm passing the phone to someone who only has a seat to protect me from having any real competition…”
You laugh in the background “Oh shit.”
Checo: blank stare “Motherfucker! That just shows your true colors... I'm passing the phone to... who am I supposed to pass it to... uhhh... Y/N.
Takes phone
Y/N: “Oh, I know! I'm passing the phone to someone who has sexual assault “allegations” against them, but the FIA wants to hide it. I can’t go near him for my safety, so I’ll just turn the camera towards him... *pans the camera to Christian Horner*
Everyone is stunned and silent, then there’s Lewis laughing in the background
Y/N: “Oh! I have another one! Hey Kelly, “i hear you like them young”, to be more specific at the ripe age of 17... mhmmm, she's a pedoo. What Kendrick say “TRYNA STRIKE A CORD AND ITS PROBABLY A MINNORRRR” *pans the camera to Kelly Piquet*
silence.
Lewis: runs towards Y/N and grabs the camera “Yup, that's enough for today. You're trying to start problems and get people beat up”
Video ends with Lewis taking the phone away from Y/N, shaking his head while laughing.
.•☆.°.•.*₊ ☆ .*₊ .• ☆.°.• .
✿ .° • everything taglist • °. ✿ : @ham1lton @ietss @animeandf1lover @nelly187 @heartsfromtaeyong @bloodyymaryyy @nor-4 @zacian117 @mel164 @uhhvictoria @hadidsworld @magixpracticality @exotic-iris13 @tellybearryyyy @zabwlky1999 @sya-skies @lillysbigwilly
@eoduuung
.•☆.°.•.*₊ ☆ .*₊ .• ☆.°.• .
*sooooo……that’s the end….LMFAOOOO, again…DO NOT COME FOR ME…ITS JOKES (is it really though)*
© 23victoria 2023-24 I all rights reserved. do not republish, steal repost, modify, translate or claim my work as your own
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BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ 3:58
No amount of hectic schedules, exhausting patrols, rowdy villains, and never-ending legal paperwork could ever keep Bakugou from attending his daughters’ extracurricular activities—because he’d literally go through literal hell and back than to ever see a disheartened pout along with the silent treatment after he gets home from work.
You think he’ll ever miss any of his daughters’ milestones? Fuck no!
Bakugou insists on being at every event, his phone—and even an actual camera during a good day—in hand, his heart swelling with pride and unconditional love that makes his chest figuratively hurt; it might as well be a medical problem at some point.
Because, if anything, Bakugou Katsuki is a father first and a hero second.
“Shit, ‘m late. Have they started yet?”
He’s sweating as if he just used his explosions to propel himself in the air to get to you quicker, but, in truth, he sort of had to just run since the traffic on the highway today would’ve only angered and slowed him down. He left patrol to Halfie, who offered to take his shift, knowing how many times Bakugou covered for him when he was in his son’s piano recital.
“They just started doing warmups,” you answer. “Did you run? You’re drenched to the bone; you’re going to catch a cold if you don’t get changed into some dry clothes.”
“Hah, doubt it.” He snorts, though he does appreciate the thought of you bringing him a spare shirt for just-in-case purposes.
You're always the one who thinks ahead, aren't you? Bakugou knows he’s a very lucky man to have such a doting, caring wife that humbles him whenever he gets too focused on his pride. The balance that he didn’t know he needed!
Ignoring the gawking stares of the other parents—because it’s not everyday you see the Pro Hero Dynamight in mundane activities such as watching his kid take gymnastics’ lessons—he looks through the glass in search of his little princess.
Just as he saw her, his lips curled to that oh-so genuine smile, one that just said, “That’s my daughter, right there! Look at how awesome she is!”
Bakugou remembers how his parents were the same and how they were very supportive of his interests and hobbies, no matter how odd they may be for a five-year-old. How often do you see someone learning to take on both hiking and archery at the age of five? Bakugou was sure he learned most skills during his childhood that made him a firm hero in the field today.
“She has a bit of trouble with tumbling because of her tummy.”
“Yeah? And does that have somethin’ to do with my awesome cooking?” Bakugou replied smugly. “Besides, ‘ts just baby fat, and I’d prefer to see her like this than to see her thin but often sick.”
“Mhm, and she makes up for the cutest ending pose.”
“And her effortless splits. Have the coaches seen her do that?”
You shook your head. “Not yet,” you say, “but I think they’re about to do it—oh! Look, look!”
And he does; his phone’s camera is already recording his youngest daughter doing a perfect vertical split, while the other girls somewhat struggle to maintain a consistent posture.
“She’s a natural, hun.”
“She is,” you chuckle, “just like her Daddy to a certain extent.”
“Damn right, she is.”
Bakugou tries to hold back his laughter when your daughter once again attempts a forward roll with the guidance of the staff. Her tummy somewhat makes it a bit difficult for her to do so. The way she hesitates but then does the forward roll, albeit a little lopsided with a smile that shows her adorable tooth gap—it was safe to say that your daughter was over the moon with her gymnastics lessons.
It’s all too much for him to take.
And when all is over, he greets his daughter by picking her up and blowing raspberries on her neck that have her squealing in laughter before he insists that he’ll be the one to talk to the coaches about the upcoming schedules and the progress your daughter has made.
“Mr. Bakugou, she’s a good listener, and I believe that she’ll be moving onto the next class with the older children in no time,” they told him. “Has she received prior training before this one?”
“She’s also taking ballet lessons,” he answers, “but gymnastics is what she really likes. Ballet was just a compromise since your services weren’t available in our area at that time.”
“That’s wonderful to hear. It’s a joy to have her in class. I’ve already sent Dr. [Last Name] the schedules we offered, and we are looking forward to having your daughter in the upcoming lessons.”
The walk back to your car was light and quiet for a change. Your youngest daughter, Kusami, was out like a light in Bakugou’s arms, having worn herself out with socializing, rolling, doing splits, and whatnot the gymnastics’ instructors told her to do. And Bakugou was just letting the simple moment sink in because this is what he considers the most rewarding part of his day.
Time spent with his family.
Bakugou also warmed up to the thought of having to interact with other parents. He chatted with a single father earlier, whose daughter was the oldest in Kusami’s class. It was nice to converse with equally enthusiastic and supportive parents that you meet through your children's extracurricular activities.
“Let’s go through a drive-through; get Katsumi her usual order,” Bakugou murmurs, remembering how his oldest daughter, Katsumi, would’ve probably woken up from her nap by now and was probably anticipating her family’s return.
“Alright,” you nod. “Katsumi and Kusami have swimming lessons tomorrow at five in the afternoon, too. Do you think you’d get home that early?”
“Of course,” he answers. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.
#bakugou x reader#bakugou x you#bakugou x y/n#bakugou fluff#bakugou drabble#bakugo x reader#bakugo fluff#bakugo drabble#mha x reader#mha fluff#mha drabbles#bnha x reader#bnha drabble#bnha fluff#bakugo katsuki x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#bnha bakugou#mha bakugou#‹𝟹 𓏲🗒️ꜝֶָ֢ ʾʾ
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Teen Dad
Quite surprised there’s not a lot of these AUs considering how much Steve apparently sleeps around but anywho.
Teen Dad Steve who finds out one of the girls he’d slept with pre-Nancy is pregnant and he damn well intends on helping out however he can.
Turns out; helping means taking his son (his SON) and having full custody because the mom, no matter how much she wants to be involved, can’t take care of him.
Steve’s alright for the first 6 months of little Louie Harrington’s life.
But then his parents come home and shit hits the fan.
Which— fair enough. He was only 17 and already had a whole ass son, they were gonna freak out.
But kicking him AND aforementioned son out? With no where to go? No money? Barely a job?
That’s just fucked up.
But Steve makes do, and lives out of his car for no more than a month before finally landing his hands on a cheap trailer in Forest Hills.
He and Louie move in and sure, it’s rough. But he’s got a nice paying job at the Diner and yeah maybe he has to skip some classes to get extra money but it’s fine. It pays his bills and rent and that’s all that really matters.
It’s fine.
And then the second wave of Upside Down fuckery hits, and Steve’s suddenly in the hospital with a grade 4 concussion (whatever that means) and his top priority is to make sure someone is with Louie.
Enter Claudia Henderson, Dustin’s mom.
She takes care of Louie for as long as Steve is in the hospital and then some when Steve can’t be left unsupervised in case his head worsens.
And that’s how the Party is introduced to little Louie (as they all call him).
Steve’s stunned to find out that Mike and Lucas are so good with little kids, but the two of them love stopping by the Henderson’s (and later on the trailer) to see little Louie and offer to babysit for him whenever.
The other kids take a little bit of time to warm up to Louie (and the fact that Steve’s actually a parent) but when they do Steve never ceases to have at least one of them over.
And with all the racket brings in the attention of nosy neighbors.
Steve is well accustomed to nosy neighbors. Mr. and Mrs. Lincoln next door to his parents were always looking to snitch on him for something or other.
But Miss Bottomette and her grandchildren Noah and Casey were sweethearts. Steve didn’t mind having them over for dinner or going over there. Miss Bottomette was the one to teach him how to actually put his cooking skills to work.
Linda and Tom, a newly married couple down the road, were quite eccentric but that’s what made them charming. Steve found their dog, Dasher, quite the sweetheart.
And even Mr. Knowles, the grouchy old man next door to Miss Bottomette, seemed to take a liking to Steve and Louie.
It wasn’t long before the story behind the new boy in 2718 New Bird Ave was revealed: Teen Dad Kicked Out.
Then the whole town knew. And while most people were nice about it, even supportive of how he had taken a step into his child’s life, there were always those people who sneered.
Steve ignored them, loving the life he was working on making for himself and Louie in the trailer park.
The only neighbors he never seemed to meet, despite the looming presence, were the Munsons, right across the street.
Steve knew about the Munsons. Well— he knew about Eddie Munson; drug dealer who was on his second run of senior year. Steve actually shared a few classes with him.
He’d yet to meet the mysterious Wayne Munson, but that was to be expected with work schedules.
And then Steve was graduating, and his parents didn’t show up.
But that was totally fine. Cause the kids, Claudia, Joyce— even Hopper with El— were there. They held up little baby Louie while Steve walked the stage.
He’d heard rumors of Eddie Munson having to retake senior year for a third time— but he didn’t dwell on it for too long. Because sure, he missed more than his fair share of classes and scraped by with a C+ average.
But he did it.
And then summer hit, Dustin left for camp, and the mall opened up.
Steve picked up a job at Scoops Ahoy, cutting back on his hours at the Diner but still staying there because the money was needed and the tips were lovely.
And he meets Robin Buckley, and actually talks to Eddie Munson every once in a while when he stops in with his band, and lets the kids sneak into the movies because he’ll be damned if he robs them of a normal summer.
And then Dustin comes back and their reunion is short-lived because Russians are hellbent on torching non-existent information out of Steve and he’s busy getting his third concussion and then there’s a fucking flesh monster and Billy and Hopper for protecting them and—
It’s not a good night.
But then he’s rushed to the hospital and he tries to call Miss Bottomette only for the call to refuse to go through and shitfuckgoddammit.
Because what about Louie?
Miss Bottomette said she’d be alright watching Louie until Steve got home, but Steve wasn’t able to go home until someone was able to make time to take him home.
Usually, he’d lean on Hopper for this stuff, since his parents were out of the question. But—
But Hoppers dead.
So he’s stuck at the hospital for another day or two until finally, Claudia comes to pick him up.
He’s with Dustin in the backseat of the car, anxiously bouncing his leg and biting at his fingers and nails until Dustin gives in and just holds his hand. Robin’s there to, having been able to leave after the first night but coming with Claudia to pick him up. Steve’s relieved to have them both close by, even if his hands reach for Erica subconsciously.
His trailer’s empty when he gets home, and Miss Bottomette isn’t answering the door.
Steve’s on the brink of a full blown breakdown before Mr. Knowles— bless his heart— points them across the street.
The Munsons apparently have his son and have for a bit now since Miss Bottomette had a minor seizure and couldn’t be left alone with Louie. Mr. Knowles assured Steve that she and the kids were fine and staying with him for the moment.
Steve wasted no time afterwards sprinting to the Munsons and knocking on the door. Dustin and Robin are close behind him, Claudia waiting patiently in the driveway.
The door is answered by a gruff looking old man that’s taller than Dustin but slightly shorter than both Robin and Steve.
“You Harrington?”
Steve nods so fast he faintly wonders if that’s how bobble heads feels.
They’re let in in no time and the old man— the infamous Wayne Munson— calls out of Eddie.
Eddie Munson emerges a moment later with little Louie in his arms, bouncing softly on his feet to keep the baby calm.
Steve is in front of him in a second, scooping Louie gently out of his arms and into his own.
He doesn’t realize he’s crying until Dustin’s rubbing his arms and Robin his back. Claudia is talking to Wayne, explaining what had happened (or the cover story version at least) and Eddie is hanging back a few feet from the three of them.
Robin takes little Louie in her arms and shoos Steve to the couch to calm down.
“Let him meet his auntie, Steve. You take a minute to breathe now, yeah?”
Steve was led to the couch with a soft hand on his shoulder from Eddie Munson, and they sat side by side while Steve worked on easing his breathing and to stop fucking crying.
Eddie’s shushing him and after a moment (and a clearly pointed cleared throat from Robin) Eddie wraps his arms around Steve’s shaking figure.
They leave the Munsons’ trailer is promises of new babysitters and a new friendship.
And then the fuckery that’s 1986 happens.
.
First Part:
#stranger things#steve harrington#dustin henderson#mike wheeler#eddie munson#robin buckley#will byers#lucas sinclair#max mayfield#el hopper#jim hopper#joyce byers#claudia henderson#steddie#teen dad steve harringon#I’m lazy with the tags today sorry guys
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Mr. Right Now Part 1 | Hangman x Reader
Summary: When Jake picks your ID up from the floor at the Hard Deck, he has no expectations that he's about to be in for a wild ride. But when he learns that you're looking for Rooster and why you're at the bar in the first place, he starts to feel more possessive than he should. You're young and stubborn and about to get yourself into trouble. Maybe he would prefer it if you got into it with him instead.
Warnings: adult language, mentions of sex and virginity, 18+
Length: 2800 words
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader
Why is Jake on my masterlist!? Mr. Right Now masterlist
It was a typical Friday night with the typical Hard Deck crowd, and to be honest, it was a bit exhausting. Jake knew if he picked up a random girl to take home, it would all feel pretty pointless the next morning. He should probably just head home now before he ruined some desperate girl's night by kicking her out of his bed in about four hours.
"Jesus, it's not even ten o'clock yet," he muttered to himself as he checked his watch. He'd only had one whiskey sour, but he was ready to leave. The two girls in matching pink dresses had been eyeing him up all night, and they both looked like the type who would cry if he suggested getting them an Uber after hooking up, no matter how clear he made it that he only ever kept things very casual.
He hated when girls got it twisted. Jake loved women. He loved their bodies. He loved making promises to them and then delivering. He loved the little noises they made when he fucked them. But that was all he had time for. He wasn't going to meet anyone that made him think it was worth pursuing more when he spent all of his time at work, at the gym, or at a bar full of tag chasers.
He signaled for Penny to close out his tab, and even she looked surprised. "You're heading out?" she asked, glancing at his friends who were still playing pool with the girls in pink.
"Yeah," he said with a sigh as he signed his name on the receipt and collected his credit card. "Thinking about an early night and a long run on the beach first thing in the morning."
"Right," she said, giving him a little smile. "Be safe."
He winked at her and turned just in time to see a young woman drop something as she tried to squeeze through the crowd. "Hey!" he called out as he picked up her driver's license and held it up in his hand. "Leather mini skirt!"
You glanced over your shoulder, your eyes questioning as you turned away from the pool table to face him. He watched you look around to make sure nobody else was wearing a black leather skirt before you faced him all the way.
"Yes?" you asked a little cautiously, and Jake took in the sight before him. You looked pretty young and a little out of place here. You had paired your little skirt with a black tank top and some Converse sneakers, and even though you didn't look like anyone else, you certainly didn't look bad.
Then he remembered he was holding your license, and he glanced down at his hand only to realize it was literally the worst fake ID he had ever seen. Your name was pretty, if that part was even real. The photo actually was you, but it looked like it had been taken in bad lighting, and according to your date of birth, you were thirty just like he was. One more look at your face told him that was a blatant lie.
"This yours?" he asked, holding it up between his thumb and index finger.
You rushed forward, clearly embarrassed, and you tried to take it from him with a muttered, "Thank you."
But he pulled it out of your reach, and your hand grazed his chest instead. "Nice fake, kiddo. Don't get drunk, okay?"
You shot him a look of vexation, clearly having no idea who he was or that he was one of the best fighter pilots in the country. "I'm not here to get drunk, okay?" When you reached for the plastic card again, Jake held it a little higher just to see what you'd do. "Seriously?"
He glanced up and looked at the first and last name once again before saying them out loud. "Then why are you here? And with the world's worst fake ID to boot."
You eyed the card, still out of reach, and placed your hands on your hips. "Not that it's any of your business, but I'm actually looking for someone named Rooster, if you happen to know who he is?"
Jake lowered his hand slowly, and you snatched your card back and tucked it inside your little purse. "What do you want with ol' Rooster?" he asked, eyeing you a little closer while you were glancing down. You were cute if not a little too innocent looking for him, but your words once again had him engaged.
"That's classified, sailor. Now do you know who he is or not?"
Jake laughed. "Yeah. I know who he is. But I'm not a sailor. I'm an aviator. Got more air to air kills than anyone else on active duty."
You gave him a bland look. "That must be very nice for you, aviator. But I'm on a bit of a mission here, so if you don't mind..." As you turned back toward the pool table, Jake followed behind you.
"He's the big one with the mustache and hideous shirt."
You stopped, and he bumped into you, steadying himself with his hands briefly on your shoulders. "Oh," you replied. "Wow. I mean, it's not going to be a problem for me, that's for sure. I just hope he's into it."
Still confused, Jake said, "I wouldn't bother him in the middle of a game of pool unless you come bearing the gift of a beer or a nice set of tits."
You spun around and looked him right in the eye. "What exactly is wrong with my tits?"
"Nothin'," he replied, trying not to look at them in your snug top. "Just trying to give you the lay of the land is all."
When you glanced over your shoulder, he let his eyes dip down below your neck. Certainly nothing wrong there. "Is that his girlfriend?" you asked, turning back to Jake and jerking your thumb in the direction of Phoenix where she stood near Rooster.
"No," he laughed. "But I'd also avoid interrupting her without a beer or your tits ready to go."
"Well, thanks. You've been very informative. One more question," you said, just inches away from Jake in the crowd. "What kind of beer does this Rooster guy like?"
He studied your face closely. He considered himself something of an expert when it came to women, and things weren't completely adding up for him right now. Your words and posture seemed bold and sure, but your eyes were giving you away. There was a nervousness behind them that made him anxious to get answers from you.
"I'll tell you if you finally answer my question."
"What was your question?"
"Why are you here? And what do you want from Rooster?"
"That's two questions," you said with a smirk, leaning a little closer, and Jake just wanted to wrap his arm around you and yank you all the way in.
"You're a real smartass, kid. And I like that in a person. But just humor me with an answer, and I'll buy you the beer myself."
Your lips parted as your gaze drifted down to Jake's chest. Every time you blinked, your eyelashes brushed your cheeks, and it was taking all of his willpower to keep his hands off you. With a deep breath, you almost met his eyes as you said, "I'm here to get laid."
Jake cocked his head to one side until you did meet his gaze. Your eyes still looked unsure. "Explain."
You just shrugged. "What is there to explain exactly? I'm looking to have sex."
He closed one eye and squinted. He could have sworn he only had one drink, but nothing was making sense right now. "With Rooster?"
"Yes. I'm going to try to get him to take me home."
Jake burst into laughter, and you took a small step away from him. "You're not going to have to try very hard, I can tell you that much for sure." You were actually cute as hell; any guy you had your sights set on would be ready to leave at the mere mention of such activities.
"That's what I'm hoping for," you muttered before pressing your lips together.
"Wait, wait," Jake asked with his hands held up in front of his chest in surrender. "Why Rooster?"
You looked a little embarrassed now as you switched your bag from one hand to the other. "My friend told me he was good in bed," you muttered.
"I am so confused," Jake replied, pushing his fingers through his hair. By this point, you were starting to look annoyed, and he didn't want to push, but he wanted to know. If you were going to parade around the Hard Deck in a mini skirt with a fake ID, he needed to know that you were okay. "You're young and attractive. Why did you come here of all places to acquire a hot fuck?" And that's when he got the answer that surprised him as you finally snapped.
"Because, if you must know, I'm a disgrace of a twenty-year-old virgin, and I'm trying to get Rooster to take care of that for me."
"What?" Jake's mind was reeling. He looked from you to the aviator at the pool table and then at your face once more. Then he jerked back a step. A virgin. Huh. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen one this close up before. Not around here, anyway. And, frankly you were hot enough that it did surprise him a bit, even though you were young.
"You heard me," you muttered, playing with your skirt. "Don't make it into a big thing." You shook your head and glanced toward the bar. "What kind of beer does he like? It looks like he has a bottle of Stella."
You were definitely nervous right now, and Jake didn't like that one bit. "Oh, no. You don't want to hook up with Rooster."
"Yes," you insisted, clutching your little purse now. "I do. Because he won't even have to know about any of it. He'll just fuck me. And then I can get on with my life."
When you took a step toward the bar, Jake reached out for your hand. "He's drunk. You want your first time to be with someone who won't have the mental capacity to make sure you enjoy yourself, too? Make sure you come?"
Instead of pulling your hand free, you stopped and looked at the place where your fingers were connected with his. "I'm not worried about coming. I just want to get this over with."
Gently he pulled you closer until your chest bumped his, and then Jake took your chin carefully between his thumb and index finger. "How old are you, really?"
"I'm twenty."
He stroked your lip with his thumb. It was soft and plump and more than kissable. "Twenty," he echoed. "That's not too old, you know."
You smirked. "Thanks. But I'm just trying to be sensible here. I don't need to be in love or anything like that. I'd rather have the experience. Rather get it out of the way so it doesn't hurt when I'm with the guy who keeps asking me out. And this way I'll know what to do."
Once more he touched his thumb to your lip and said, "Show me your real ID."
"Why?" you asked, frowning as his hand fell away. "That was my actual name on the one you saw."
"Just humor me, kid," he said firmly, holding out his hand. If you were only eighteen or even younger, he was going to have to ask you to leave or maybe even get Penny involved before you did go home with one of these horny assholes.
With a huff, you handed it to him. According to the real one, you lived in San Diego. You turned twenty about two months ago. And that really was your name. "When you get a fake, you're supposed to fake the name, too. Everyone knows that. You're in college?"
You snatched it from him and tucked it away with the other one. "Yes, I'm in college."
"Then why the hell are you here right now?" he asked. "You want to lose your virginity so bad tonight? Go stand outside a dorm, and the guys will be lining up for a cute thing like you."
The annoyance and apprehension left your face and were replaced by something different. "Do you really think that's a better alternative than a slightly tipsy, attractive man in his 30s? Because I do not. I'm going for Rooster. But thanks for calling me cute."
Jake was getting so used to your smirk that as soon as you turned away from him again, he missed it. You were heading off toward Bradshaw, and for some wild reason, he was just unwilling to let you do this with him. Rooster wouldn't ask if you were a virgin, and you certainly wouldn't tell him. It might be good for you, and it might not, but Jake thought you should at least be with someone who would try.
"No no no no." He had his hands around your waist, pulling your back against his front. "It's not happening," he muttered next to your ear. "I can call a ride for you, or I can drive you home myself, but that's not going to happen."
You spun around and glared at him. "You said I was cute. I can handle this."
Jake sighed and tipped his face toward the ceiling for a beat as he held you in place with his hands at the middle of your back. "Not with any of those guys," he practically growled through gritted teeth. "I don't know how to make myself any more clear."
You weren't struggling in his grasp, and he knew he should let you go anyway, but he wanted you to agree to letting him get you an Uber. But then you leaned in a little closer with a glint in your eye and asked, "Who's going to do it then? You?"
"Me?" he asked, wide eyes slowly drifting down to your lips. He could feel the leather of your skirt against his pinky as his fingers flexed with the need to keep you close. He could smell your skin and see your pupils growing wider. Your softly parted lips were right there.
You nodded slowly and said, "I mean... I don't even know your name, but I'm sure you could show me the ropes, aviator."
He swallowed hard, eyes never leaving yours. "I'm Jake," he said, his voice lower and needier than he anticipated. "And I need you to tell me what you're going to do if I say no."
Your smirk was back. "Well, Jake the aviator, if you say no, then I'll go ask Rooster and keep my fingers crossed that he's into it."
It wasn't that Jake wasn't keen on the idea of getting his hands all over you, because he was. And that was the problem. He wasn't any better than the rest of the guys. Not really. He didn't deserve to get to have you. But the more he thought about it, the more he was convinced he'd make it good. He wouldn't hurt you or do anything you didn't welcome. And he wouldn't kick you out after a few hours.
"It's a bad idea," he said, and then your lips were on his. You caught him off guard, and after that one gentle kiss, you started to pull away. Your eyes were wide and innocent, and he couldn't stop himself. He chased you for another taste, and it was the sweetest thing he could ever remember. Your hand crept up to rest on his chest as he drew your tentative lips back to his, pulling you snug against his body. Soft kiss after soft kiss left his nose bumping against yours as he whispered, "I said it's a bad idea."
Then you were kissing him again. Harder this time. Your hand went around the back of his neck, and he took a palm full of leather as he squeezed your ass. Oh shit. You were a nice handful for him. Honestly, he could get hard for you right here, and now you surely felt it as he rolled his hips forward against yours.
And then you moaned into his mouth as your fingers slipped up into his hair, and Jake knew it was hopeless. You nibbled on his lip before you pulled a few inches away, looked at him with desire filled eyes, and whispered, "I think it might be a good idea."
"God damn it."
------------------------
Is Jake actually any better than the rest of the horny guys? Is this a bad idea or a good idea? The problem is Jake likes stubborn girls who give him a hard time. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 2
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City Pigeons Bleed Green - Part 16
masterpost
“Jason!”
“What the fuck, dickhead,” Jason snapped as he stomped Dick’s way. “What if Danny—”
“Danny’s gone.”
“…what?”
“Danny… Danny’s gone,” Dick repeated. He shoved the tablet against Jason’s chest.
Danny was gone.
Another little brother that had left with nothing but a note. Another little brother heading alone into danger. Another little brother—
No.
No no no.
It wouldn’t go that way. It couldn’t go that way. Dick had failed Jason, but he wouldn’t fail Danny. Dick wouldn’t let Danny die.
Dick slapped a hand over his mouth to try and smother the hysterical laughter.
He wouldn’t let Danny die? Who did he think he was. Danny had died. Danny had died again and again and again. Danny had died until his hair was bleached white and his body was covered in scars. Danny had already died so many times. Dick couldn’t save him.
They could already have Danny.
How long had he been gone?
They would kill Danny. They would kill him again.
A rough hand grabbed at Dick’s arm. Dick swept it off. Punch, blocked. Raised a knee to the side. It’s soft there. Weak. Follow with a punch. Duck. Block. Move—
A gasp was knocked out of Dick as his back hit a wall, hard.
“Take another breath.”
What?
“Come on Dick, take another breath.”
The heavy weight of someone else leaned against Dick, pinning him in place. A rough hand on his cheek tapped out a rhythm.
“Breathe for me, big bird.”
“Jay?” Dick gasped.
“Yeah, it’s me. Come on, Dick, come back to me. I need… I need you here, big bird. I need you here to help. I can’t find him without you.”
“Danny.”
“Yeah.”
Dick forced himself to take a deep, shuddering breath. “Sorry.”
“I get it.” Jason sounded a little wrecked himself. “I get it. But I need you with me, so open your eyes for me, okay?”
Dick took another breath and then did as he was told. He did his best to smile a little, though he knew that it was weak. “Don’t worry, not at the hallucinating stage or anything.”
Jason’s brow furrowed further. “What?”
“Nothing,” Dick said quickly. “Okay. Right. I’ll call Bruce, you get Babs and then have Babs get everyone else.”
“On it. You going to suit up or stay civies?” Jason asked as he pulled away and pulled his phone out.
Dick instantly missed the weight of his brother. For a moment it felt like everything would fly apart again and he forced himself to suck in a harsh breath. It was only thanks to his training that his fingers didn’t tremble as he pulled up Bruce’s number. “Suit, I think. Get a bird’s eye view. You?”
“Civies,” Jason answered and headed for his shoes. “Less chance of panic. Hey, Babs? I know, you’re at work, but this is an all hands-on deck. Danny’s gone.”
Dick listened to the ringing and then the answering click.
“Chum?”
“Dad?” Dick’s voice almost broke all over again. They were supposed to keep Bruce’s kid safe. They hadn’t even let him meet Danny yet. And now… “Danny’s gone.”
-
“Mr. Wayne—” started one of the people in the meeting.
Bruce didn’t care right then to spend the energy identifying which one. He just snapped out ‘family emergency’ as he quickly exited the room. “Dick, talk to me.”
Whatever had been going on, whatever needed to go on in that meeting, wasn’t as important as his son on the line. His son who sounded breathless with panic.
“Danny ran. He left a note on his tablet and ran. He left his phone too.”
A chill ran down Bruce’s spine. Danny. “What did he take with him?”
“I don’t know,” Dick said. Bruce could hear Dick swallowing back his panic. The line was filled with soft clicks as others joined the call. It seemed to help center Dick. “Nothing much. He left his tablet, it’s what he had note on and left his phone too. He has the clothes he was wearing— hoodie, t-shirt, jeans. Shoes are gone.”
“Bear?” Cass asked, her voice strained.
Bruce jogged for the elevators. Once in, he pressed the right combination of buttons to take him down to the secret level, leaving his thumb on the last one for it to scan his fingerprint.
“What? Um, no, I don’t see it. Jason! Is Danny’s blue bear out there?” Dick called.
“I’m on the comms, don’t fucking scream,” Jason chimed in. He sounded better than the others at the moment, but he always did alright while he had something to do. It was afterwards they had to watch out for. “I don’t see it.”
“Cass,” Bruce asked slowly, “did you put a tracker in Danny’s bear?”
“Tim,” Cass replied.
Tim made an affronted noise. “You told me to!”
Cass hummed.
“Okay, fine, you implied for me to. But you put it on the table while I was checking the tracker in Danny’s tablet. Which, by the way, he totally saw and left!”
“Tim.” Bruce interrupted. All of this could wait until later. Really it was something Danny wasn’t full of trackers with this family. Right then Bruce was happy for Cass and Tim’s overstep.
“I’m pulling it up,” Tim snapped back. “I had to leave class— Bruce! He’s still in the area. He’s… I think he’s headed towards WE!”
Bruce slammed the combo of buttons that would cancel out the rapid descent to the secret bunker and jabbed the ground floor button instead. “What street is he taking?”
“Novik street name and coming your way.”
“Going now,” Bruce said as he slipped in an ear bud and put his phone back in his pocket.
It was raining. Bruce didn’t even register it was raining until he reached up to wipe the water out of his face.
“This rain won’t be good for his injuries.”
“We can take care of them when he’s back,” Jason rumbled across the line. For all of Jason’s self claimed issues with anger, he was so calm under panic.
“You should have warm drinks ready.”
“Sure, we can make sure of that.” Jason was placating him, Bruce knew that, but he didn’t mind it. Mindless planning was just a way for Bruce to steal his nerves against all of the horrible possibilities.
Danny could go in another direction.
Danny could run when he saw Bruce.
Danny could just run away again. He could get sick. He could be re-injured. He could be hurt.
They could get him.
Whoever they were. If Danny ran, they could get to Danny first.
“Take the next right. You should have eyes on him instantly,” Tim directed. His own worry threaded through his voice, but Bruce had no doubt the information was accurate.
Still, Bruce slowed his steps.
His son was right around the corner.
Bruce pushed the rain-soaked hair off his forehead once again, took a deep breath, and turned the corner.
Someone slammed into Bruce.
Someone too small and too slim and trembling in the cold rain.
“Sorry! Wasn’t watching…” Danny trailed off as he stared up at Bruce, blue eyes wide. “I… um… I just…”
Bruce crouched down, not caring about the water seeping into his suit where he had taken a knee on the dirty sidewalk. Gently he reached out and placed his hand on Danny’s cold cheek.
“It’s okay, Danny.”
“You know. You know but… but how…?”
“They called me when you left.” It wasn’t a lie. It was hardly the whole truth, but it wasn’t a lie. There were a lot of truths that would have to come out now.
Danny shivered. “They…”
“They’re worried about you,” Bruce explained, “and I’m very glad that they called.”
“You shouldn’t be,” Danny whispered. His eyes were wide, weary, afraid. It was an expression Bruce used to know too well. It used to stare back at him from the mirror before he had found his path as Batman. Bruce hated that Danny felt like that.
“I am,” Bruce said, voice low and serious. “I am and I am so very glad to meet you, Danny.”
Danny wiped at his eyes, almost angrily brushing away the tears even as they mixed with the rain. “I didn’t— I didn’t want to be a mess when I met you.”
“It’s okay that you are, life is messy,” Bruce said sincerely. “If you ask my kids… if you ask my other kids, they’ll tell you I’m often a mess.”
A choked back laugh interrupted the quiet sobs. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Danny started suddenly, leaning to look behind Bruce.
A beat later, before Bruce could ask, Jason’s voice came through the earpiece. “We’re pulling up.”
Sure enough, an unassuming black car pulled around the corner and up to the curb. To Bruce’s surprise, Danny didn’t try to run, not even as an unmasked Dick rushed out of the passenger side.
Danny’s eyes did widened as he scanned Dick’s bare face. “N—”
“Dick,” Dick interrupted quickly.
“What?”
“It’s short for Richard,” Dick explained with a tense smile. He came the rest of the way around the car and crouched down a little. “Please come back, Danny. Come back and get warm and have hot chocolate and talk to us.”
Danny shook his head. “They’ll find me. They’ll find me and that means they’ll find you all and they’ll try to—” Danny paused, mouth working around some words till he found what he needed. “They’ll hurt your little brothers.”
Bruce brushed his hand through Danny’s hair. He couldn’t help it. Danny was Dick’s little brother too; Danny just didn’t know it yet. Danny was as worth protecting as anyone Dick loved. The touch brought Danny’s attention back to Bruce.
“We can keep you safe,” Bruce said. “Between my wealth and the manpower, we can keep you safe.”
“You can’t promise that,” Danny pleaded, his voice cracking. “You don’t know what you’re up against.”
“Then come back with us, Dandelion, and explain what we’re up against,” Dick pleaded. “If we really can’t keep you safe, we can talk about contingencies, but I’m with Bruce, we can find a way. I know you don’t think so, but at least give us the information so that we can try. Don’t just leave us.”
Danny looked between Bruce and Dick, looking for the word like he wanted to angle towards them and wasn’t letting himself. “But…”
The window rolled down and Jason leaned across the seat. His face was still red from where he had ripped the domino off. “Kid, Danny… don’t run for me. Not for me or Damian or anyone else. None of us would be okay losing you just to stay safe.”
Danny rubbed his arm over his face again. “They’ll hurt you.”
“I’ve already died once.”
“There’s worse things than death.”
“I know, Danny,” Jason said, his voice softer than Bruce had heard it in a long time, “and losing you would be one of them. So come back with us.”
Danny was muffling body wracking sobs now, but he let Dick guide them into the back seat and close the door.
Bruce basically collapsed into the passenger seat. He reached out and clasped the back of Jason’s neck and pressed their foreheads together for a moment. Then he let go so that Jason could turn off the emergency lights and pull back out into traffic.
“Let’s get you back.”
Danny was silent the ride, letting Dick dry his hair with towels they had brought. Bruce used one himself to try and get off the worst of the water even as he kept an eye on the back seat. This isn’t how he would have wanted it to go, but he had finally met Danny. He’d finally met his son.
A son who couldn’t believe he cared.
Bruce closed his eyes and took a steadying breath.
Jason squeezed Bruce’s shoulder, just a momentary touch, before they got out of the car the short ride later. Dick filled the elevator ride and walk to the door with chatter about them all drying off and changing and having some warm coco. Bruce just watched as Dick led Danny away to the one bedroom.
“Come on, old man,” Jason said. “You can change into some of my stuff.”
Bruce nodded. He started to shuck off his wet suit even as Jason laid out a change of clothing. Alfred would fuss. Bruce didn’t care. Jason was already busy in the kitchen by the time Bruce came back out, but it was still a bit longer until Dick and Danny joined them.
“Danny,” Bruce said, crouching down again like he had on the wet cement. “I know we have a lot to talk about. Some of it won’t be easy. But I need you to know that no matter what, I want you here because you’re my son.”
Danny laughed, an awful broken sound, and looked up at Bruce with those scared blue eyes that Bruce knew too well. “That’s the thing. I’m not. I’m not your son. I’m your clone.”
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His. Hers. Ours.
married!Toji x nannyF!Reader
summary : what she doesn’t know, won’t hurt her.
warnings and tags: raw sex, nothing but straight fucking! creampie, ass worship, slight cock warning, reader has a big ass, age gap (reader’s in her 20s and toji is in his late 30s), breeding, cheating (married toji), also i gave his wife a name (megumi’s mom), fingering.
“too b-big—g’na cum, toji~” you breathed, earning a smack to your cunt as the older man fucked you, his stroke slow yet deep; making your cunt gush.
“huh? didn’t quite hear that” his words teasing, his teeth nibbling on your ears, sending chills up your spine.
“oh fuck—cumming for you, daddy!” he thrusted inside of you harder, his tip hitting your spot each time, making your eyes roll back—showing off the whites.
“mhm, let it all out. we gotta hurry up too, don’t want wifey to catch us” he grunted, reaching around to clutch on your boob. you held on his forearm, pussy frantically clenching around him as you came.
“did you just get off at the thought of her catching us? hm? want her to see her nanny cumming all over her husbands cock, hm?” the hand that was on your boob, was now around your neck; choking you while you continued to cum.
“fuck, you’re so wet—shit gonna cum~” with a few more sloppy thrusts, he emptied his load inside of you, cunt full of cum—making you shiver from how warm it was inside of you. he pulled himself out of you, with the rest of his seed pooling out—before he got up from the king sized bed to get dressed.
“c’mon, she should be home any minute now.” he spoke, putting his sweatpants on along with his grey t-shirt; tossing you your own clothes. you slowly grabbed your pink shirt, slipping it over your head—trying to reach for your panties, which he happily snatched away. “toji!~”
“these are for me. if you’ll be a good girl, you’ll get them later. now hurry up and get dinner started, I’ll put the sheets in the wash” you wanted to reach for them again, but you knew that would only lead to you being put through the mattress and being caught by mrs. fushiguro. you slipped on your khaki miniskirt, walking towards the kitchen to get started on dinner; trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of his cum dripping down the sides of your legs.
you’ve been with the fushiguro’s for a few months now, working as their nanny. even though mrs. fushiguro was currently pregnant with their only child, she still wanted you to be her nanny until the baby gets here.
when you first met toji, he answered the front door shirtless, your eyes were stuck on his abs; mentally counting each of them. he brought you back to reality with a snicker, making you lock eyes with his dark green ones.
“eyes up here sweetheart. what can i do for you?” his voice was deep, causing you to shiver and press your thighs together. you readjusted yourself, gripping your suitcase and your bag that held your laptop and other things.
“im your nanny. mizuki called me and told me i could start today?” you adverted your gaze, trying to stop the thoughts about him that filled your mind. “oh, my wife? yeah she did mention something about that. let me show you where your room is” he reached for your suit case and you immediately cringed, the man was married! and here you were thinking about how you would let him have his way with you.
you vowed from that day on that you would just let him be your boss. well, at least you tried to. toji couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. he studied every curve and every inch of your body, loving the way your ass stood out in everything you wore. be it jeans, sweatpants or pajamas, your ass poked through them. he tried so hard to contain himself and remember that he had a pregnant wife, but seeing how full it looked when you bent over; had him cumming in his pants.
your thoughts about him only became stronger, especially at night. panties to the side, while you rubbed your swollen clit—thinking about him teasing your aching hole, lowly moaning his name as you released, and drifting off to sleep afterwards. it was a nightly routine for you and as much as you tried to ignore it you couldn’t. especially today.
mizuki was away at work, while you and toji were at home. toji sat on the couch with a beer in hand, watching television like always. you learned that he was currently unemployed, which meant that he was home with you all the time. you were walking around with a wooden basket, picking up the dirty clothes that were strewn around the house, all thanks to him.
ignoring his presence, you picked up the laundry in the living room, his eyes immediately moving from the t.v and onto you. he watched the way you moved and then he noticed how short your skirt was. it barely covered you, which made your cheeks hang out from under it. he sat up correctly on the couch and rested a hand on his crotch, rubbing himself through it.
you were oblivious to his gaze, forgetting that he was there, until you bent over—giving him a view of your whole ass. he couldn’t contain himself anymore and you had the nerve to have a thong on too?
“y/n. come here” you huffed and let out a hm, turning around only to be left breathless. there was a huge tent in his sweatpants which he was gripping, his face was a little contorted and his eyes were low and lidded. you felt your body get hot and you tried your best to ignore it.
“toji, i-i gotta get started on this laun—“
“come. here.” his voice was low, yet intimidating as he beckoned you with his finger. as much as your heart told you to not go over there, you couldn’t ignore the strong throbbing sensation you felt in between your legs. you dropped the basket in your spot and walked over to him, sitting down on his lap—which made him groan once he felt your warmness.
his hands immediately squeezing your plush backside, “you’ve been waiting for this, haven’t— shit—you’re so fucking thick~” he didn’t even bother to finish his sentence, too busy gripping and loving on the fat of your ass. you couldn’t help but to blush. the more he rubbed and smacked, the more aroused you became. and before you knew it, you were grinding your lower half on his hard clothed cock.
“shit. you’re a tease aren’t you~” he chuckled, bucking his hips upwards, making his cock press onto your clit— eliciting a loud mewl from your plump lips. he continued his movements for some time, his pants now coated with your slick, before he stopped and picked you as he stood up from the coach.
reading the expression on your face, he smirked and held onto your waist while walking towards his bedroom, “need some more space, so I could fuck you the way i want to.” and that’s what led to you being filled with a married man’s seed.
———
“dinner was soo good, y/n! any man would be lucky to have you as his wife” mizuki devoured the last bite of her food, washing it down with her iced tea before rubbing her growing baby bump. you smiled and began to pick up the dishes, trying to ignore the guilt that was swarming inside of you.
“thank you and you’re already a good wife, so i know you’re gonna be a great mother” you couldn’t face her, not when you had just sat on her husband’s dick almost 30 minutes ago. mizuki rose from her spot and went around the table to kiss her husband, before going to the connecting kitchen to hug you—making you cringe.
“you coming up?” mizuki turned to ask toji, who sat at the table, sipping on the last of his beer. “yeah, after I get another beer” the raven haired woman nodded and walked down the hall to their shared bedroom and closed the door. silence followed her departure, the only thing being heard in the room was the sound of the sink’s water and the clinking of dishes in the sink as you washed them.
you finished the dishes in a hurry and put them in the dishwasher to dry, drying off your hands before turning to leave. “goodnight!” you didn’t wait for his response, making a beeline to your room and shutting the door behind you. with a sigh, you began peeling your clothes off of your body, cringing when you saw the stains that were up and down your legs; all thanks to his cum.
the shower’s water was scalding when you stepped in, but that’s what you needed. you needed to punish your self, to cleanse yourself free of him. it was wrong on so many levels, yet it felt so right. the way he touched your body and made love to every part of you. the way he knew what peaked your arousal and what made you cum, felt so very right. no matter how much you wanted to stop, your body craved more of him, especially since he was someone else’s.
after your much needed shower, you grabbed your towel and headed back into your room; jumping when you seen toji sitting at the foot of your bed, making your drop it. the cool air made your nipples stand at attention and he took notice to it, licking his lips and beckoning at you with his finger. “toji…we can’t. you’re married,” you bent down, picking up your towel and wrapping it around you.
he said nothing and stared into your eyes. your knees growing weak and your thighs pressed together, you could feel your body getting warmer by the second. this time, he didn’t ask you again, instead you acted on your own and dropped the towel—before sitting your wet body on his lap. “good girl,~” he praised, before latching his to one of your hard nipples, sucking on it and swirling it around his tongue.
moans flew out of your mouth as the overwhelming sensation caused waves of pleasure to erupt inside of you. but, you didn’t want to be teased anymore, you desperately needed him back inside of you. you lifted up slightly and skillfully pulled his throbbing hard cock out of sweatpants, before lowering your slick coated cunt down onto him.
with a pop, he let go of your nipple as the two of you sucked in some air. “so—fucking….tight.” his big hands immediately went to your ass, gripping it when you began to bounce up and down. he filled you up with each bounce, the way he stretched you out had you going crazy. your tits bounced like crazy in front of him and he couldn’t help but to reattach his mount to them again, increasing your pleasure.
“shit, toji! s-sofuckinggood! i love this dick so—much,” you babbled, so drunk off his cock. he removed himself from your swollen buds, smashing his lips on yours—his tongue taking over your own. “you must really want her to catch you fuck her husbsnd, huh?” the feeling of your gummy walls clenching around him, gave him an answer and he lowly chuckled.
he gripped your hips and picked you up, pulling out of you when he flipped you on your knees, making you whine in response before he shoved himself back into you. you buried a scream into the velvet blanket underneath you, eyes rolling back as he pounded your cunt sloppy—your ass clapping against his pelvis with each thrust.
“cum for me. let her hear how much you love her husband’s dick~” he taunted, slapping your ass hard and pushing himself deeper inside of you; his tip kissing your cervix. you gripped your blanket and deepened your arch, feeling yourself coming undone around him. “cumming—cumming for you daddy!”
he was right behind you, his thrusts hard and sloppy when his dick twitched, pumping his load inside of you—filling your tummy. pulling out of you, his cum dripped out and onto the bed, as he pushed his wet cock back into his pants; leaving you fucked out of your mind.
———
you sat dazed at the dinner table, cunt sore and wet, while toji’s thick fingers teased your clit; only to be brought out of it by mizuki. “you okay y/n? i heard a scream too last night.”
you looked up and away, blushing as you recounted what happened last night. “y-yes. i just had a b-bad dream and i couldn’t get any s-s-sleep after that,” you lied, trying to fight the moan that wanted to leave your mouth as toji stuck a finger inside of you.
“aw man, how about you get some rest tonight?don’t worry about your duties today, toji will take care of you. isn’t that right?” toji nodded and smiled, fingers pumping in and out of you.
oh he would be taking more than care of you tonight.
#dad toji#toji smut#jujutsu kaisen toji fushiguro#jjk toji#jujutsu toji#toji zenin#jujutsu kaisen toji#toji x reader#married toji#megumi’s mom#nanny reader#dilf toji x y/n#dilf toji x reader#toji x you#reader x toji#toji fushiguro#dilf toji#toji x y/n
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hot stuff
@steddiemicrofic prompt: stuff, 483 words rated: t | cw: none | tags: pre-relationship, steve has a crush, he blurts it out while helping eddie pack to move to his new trailer
***
Steve shoves another DnD handbook into one of the boxes scattered around Eddie’s room. “Dude, why do you have so much stuff?”
Across the room, Eddie snorts. “Excuse me for wanting my bedroom to have some personality, Mr. Plaid-Wallpaper.”
Steve rolls his eyes, putting away some sketchbooks next. His eyes catch something else on Eddie’s desk. “This doesn’t match your personality. You hate sports,” Steve bitches, one hand on his hip, the other holding the basketball.
“Oh, that’s not mine.” Eddie smirks. “I stole it from some jocks.”
“You stole- a basketball?”
The smirk turns into a grin. “Assholes thought it’d be funny to hit the freak, so when they did, I grabbed it and ran like hell.”
A startled laugh leaves Steve’s lips when he pictures Eddie fleeing with a basketball in his arms, flipping off the assholes that he stole it from.
Then he frowns.
“I wasn’t one of them, right?” He doesn’t remember it, but he tries not to think about that time too much.
Eddie’s eyes soften. “No, Stevie. You were never a dick to me, we never really crossed paths.”
“I wish we had,” Steve says. It’s not the first time he’s thought about it. Since meeting Eddie, he often wishes it happened sooner.
“You really think we would’ve been friends? The King and the Freak?”
“We’re friends now,” Steve shrugs.
“After a damn apocalypse! Besides, you’re different now. King Steve wouldn’t be caught dead with me. I was a loser.”
Steve sniggers. “Was?”
“Fuck you,” Eddie squawks, throwing some socks at Steve’s head- and missing.
Steve throws them back, hitting him on the forehead. “You’re supposed to be packing those!”
Eddie sticks his tongue out. “What I meant is- I looked like a loser.”
Steve thinks of the photo he packed earlier while helping pack Wayne’s things- the one of Eddie with a buzz cut, drowning in Wayne’s hand-me-downs, no tattoos or rings. So different from the guy in front of him.
“Now though, I look cool,” Eddie waggles his eyebrows.
“Nah, man. Now you look hot,” Steve blurts out.
He panics when Eddie’s jaw drops and he gapes at Steve, but he doesn’t look upset, just shocked- and a little hopeful.
The door opens then and Robin pops her head in, glaring at the empty boxes. “You dinguses aren’t done yet? We finished packing all of Wayne’s mugs and there’s dozens of them! I’m getting Nance!” She huffs and leaves.
Steve grimaces. “We should get to work before Nancy comes. But, um, wanna ditch the girls after and hang out?”
When Eddie shakes his head, Steve backtracks. “Unless you don’t want-”
Eddie shakes his head even harder at that. “Like fuck if I don’t.” He grins. “Get to work, big boy, then you can tell me how hot you find me and we can kiss about it.”
They finish packing everything in record time after that.
#steddiemicrofic#steddie#steddie fic#stranger things#stranger things fic#hello i am fighting tooth and nail to come back and write more of these two. these microfic is a start!#steve harrington#eddie munson#monse writes
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