#anyways hope no one minds if I post pictures here every once and a while!

[robogart]

I used to take/post a lot of selfies on Twitter a few years back but trickled out bc depressies - but lately I’ve been trying to get back into stuff I like again and I have been informed ppl post selfies on tumblr too! So anyways, hello :3c having fun with makeup again ✨

[alfheimr]

My Favorite Cheap Art Trick: Gradient Maps and Blending Modes

i get questions on occasion regarding my coloring process, so i thought i would do a bit of a write up on my "secret technique." i don't think it really is that much of a secret, but i hope it can be helpful to someone. to that end:

this is one of my favorite tags ive ever gotten on my art. i think of it often. the pieces in question are all monochrome - sort of.

the left version is the final version, the right version is technically the original. in the final version, to me, the blues are pretty stark, while the greens and magentas are less so. there is some color theory thing going on here that i dont have a good cerebral understanding of and i wont pretend otherwise. i think i watched a youtube video on it once but it went in one ear and out the other. i just pick whatever colors look nicest based on whatever vibe im going for.

this one is more subtle, i think. can you tell the difference? there's nothing wrong with 100% greyscale art, but i like the depth that adding just a hint of color can bring.

i'll note that the examples i'll be using in this post all began as purely greyscale, but this is a process i use for just about every piece of art i make, including the full color ones. i'll use the recent mithrun art i made to demonstrate. additionally, i use clip studio paint, but the general concept should be transferable to other art programs.

for fun let's just start with Making The Picture. i've been thinking of making this writeup for a while and had it in mind while drawing this piece. beyond that, i didn't really have much of a plan for this outside of "mithrun looks down and hair goes woosh." i also really like all of the vertical lines in the canary uniform so i wanted to include those too but like. gone a little hog wild. that is the extent of my "concept." i do not remember why i had the thought of integrating a shattered mirror type of theme. i think i wanted to distract a bit from the awkward pose and cover it up some LOL but anyway. this lack of planning or thought will come into play later.

note 1: the textured marker brush i specifically use is the "bordered light marker" from daub. it is one of my favorite brushes in the history of forever and the daub mega brush pack is one of the best purchases ive ever made. highly recommend!!!

note 2: "what do you mean by exclusion and difference?" they are layer blending modes and not important to the overall lesson of this post but for transparency i wanted to say how i got these "effects." anyway!

with the background figured out, this is the point at which i generally merge all of my layers, duplicate said merged layer, and Then i begin experimenting with gradient maps. what are gradient maps?

the basic gist is that gradient maps replace the colors of an image based on their value.

so, with this particular gradient map, black will be replaced with that orangey red tone, white will be replaced with the seafoamy green tone, etc. this particular gradient map i'm using as an example is very bright and saturated, but the colors can be literally anything.

these two sets are the ones i use most. they can be downloaded for free here and here if you have csp. there are many gradient map sets out there. and you can make your own!

you can apply a gradient map directly onto a specific layer in csp by going to edit>tonal correction>gradient map. to apply one indirectly, you can use a correction layer through layer>new correction layer>gradient map. honestly, correction layers are probably the better way to go, because you can adjust your gradient map whenever you want after creating the layer, whereas if you directly apply a gradient map to a layer thats like. it. it's done. if you want to make changes to the applied gradient map, you have to undo it and then reapply it. i don't use correction layers because i am old and stuck in my ways, but it's good to know what your options are.

this is what a correction layer looks like. it sits on top and applies the gradient map to the layers underneath it, so you can also change the layers beneath however and whenever you want. you can adjust the gradient map by double clicking the layer. there are also correction layers for tone curves, brightness/contrast, etc. many such useful things in this program.

let's see how mithrun looks when we apply that first gradient map we looked at.

gadzooks. apologies for eyestrain. we have turned mithrun into a neon hellscape, which might work for some pieces, but not this one. we can fix that by changing the layer blending mode, aka this laundry list of words:

some of them are self explanatory, like darken and lighten, while some of them i genuinely don't understand how they are meant to work and couldn't explain them to you, even if i do use them. i'm sure someone out there has written out an explanation for each and every one of them, but i've learned primarily by clicking on them to see what they do.

for the topic of this post, the blending mode of interest is soft light. so let's take hotline miamithrun and change the layer blending mode to soft light.

here it is at 100% opacity. this is the point at which i'd like to explain why i like using textured brushes so much - it makes it very easy to get subtle color variation when i use this Secret Technique. look at the striation in the upper right background! so tasty. however, to me, these colors are still a bit "much." so let's lower the opacity.

i think thats a lot nicer to look at, personally, but i dont really like these colors together. how about we try some other ones?

i like both of these a lot more. the palettes give the piece different vibes, at which point i have to ask myself: What Are The Vibes, Actually? well, to be honest i didn't really have a great answer because again, i didn't plan this out very much at all. however. i knew in my heart that there was too much color contrast going on and it was detracting from the two other contrasts in here: the light and dark values and the sharp and soft shapes. i wanted mithrun's head to be the main focal point. for a different illustration, colors like this might work great, but this is not that hypothetical illustration, so let's bring the opacity down again.

yippee!! that's getting closer to what my heart wants. for fun, let's see what this looks like if we change the blending mode to color.

i do like how these look but in the end they do not align with my heart. oh well. fun to experiment with though! good to keep in mind for a different piece, maybe! i often change blending modes just to see what happens, and sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. i very much cannot stress enough that much of my artistic process is clicking buttons i only sort of understand. for fun.

i ended up choosing the gradient map on the right because i liked that it was close to the actual canary uniform colors (sorta). it's at an even lower opacity though because there was Still too much color for my dear heart.

the actual process for this looks like me setting my merged layer to soft light at around 20% opacity and then clicking every single gradient map in my collection and seeing which one Works. sometimes i will do this multiple times and have multiple soft light and/or color layers combined.

typically at this point i merge everything again and do minor contrast adjustments using tone curves, which is another tool i find very fun to play around with. then for this piece in particular i did some finishing touches and decided that the white border was distracting so i cropped it. and then it's done!!! yay!!!!!

this process is a very simple and "fast" way to add more depth and visual interest to a piece without being overbearing. well, it's fast if you aren't indecisive like me, or if you are better at planning.

let's do another comparison. personally i feel that the hint of color on the left version makes mithrun look just a bit more unwell (this is a positive thing) and it makes the contrast on his arm a lot more pleasing to look at. someone who understands color theory better than i do might have more to say on the specifics, but that's honestly all i got.

just dont look at my layers too hard. ok?

[ghostie-luvs]

Yandere! Jock (part two) <3

Part One!! Part three!!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who later, after several days of planning, staring up at the ceiling and laying in his bed awake, seemed pumped up, excited for the day as he left for school, in high hopes of seeing you.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ when he arrived to school, he immediately caught your figure, and rushed to make his way to you, only to deflate when he saw you busy with that same guy from those days before.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who only chuckled softly to himself, and confidently strode up to you, anyway, completely ignoring the guy you were talking to, even shoving him out of the way as he stood in front of you now.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who rolled his eyes once you started scolding him for shoving that poor sweet guy away, the guy shuffling away. Were you blind or just delusional? Hah, that’s rich coming from him, The man was obviously drooling over you, in what way was he such a poor and sweet guy?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who couldn’t call himself better and he knew it, having stayed up every single night, practically stalking you on all your socials, even giggling softly to himself when you posted such pretty pictures of yourself hanging out, noting your favorite places in the back of his mind.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who sighed when you confronted him and found out he had been talking to the guy behind your back, threatening and maybe even bullying him.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who got tired of your scolding and managed to shut you up, as he grinned at you, offering a sort of deal.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who managed to get you to agree to the deal, which really, was a date. If you had agreed to give him a chance and go on this date with him, he’d stop bothering the guy.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who after you agreed, bid you goodbye and a promise of seeing you later for the date, feeling giddy inside as he smirked to himself, walking along the halls. Now his plan was in motion.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who later, the date being agreed to be at his own place, invited you into his humble abode, the place clean and even set up for a romantic setting, just for you.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who actually, was a surprising amazingly cook, having cooked you two a nice meal, offering you a glass of water as he decided to put on a movie for the both of you.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who, as time passes, smiling softly to himself as he sees you drifting off on his own couch, the movie still playing, eyeing the finished glass of water next to your finished plate of food. Ah, it worked, didn’t it?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who laughed a little as he saw your confused face, waking up tied to his bed, who honestly was aroused when tying you up while you were unconscious, but he would never admit that, and cooed softly, tracing your jaw and the duct tape that was placed over your mouth.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who only smiled more as he sees you struggle against the restraints, only shushing you and telling you to be quiet, not wanting the neighbors to hear you.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who promises to treat you so well, like how you should be if you just stay quiet and be a good doll for him, seeing your incredulous face at him telling you all about how you’re finally his.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ “awh, don’t worry, doll…no one will get in our way now, you’re all mine.~”

a/n: was this too long? Oh well,, but here is part two!! I’ve been a little busy, exam week :( I hope you all enjoyed and reblogs and more are appreciated <3 Thank you for reading and there will be more characters coming up soon !

more of my works :)

[forbidding-souda]

if you haven't already, could you do mondo, kazuichi and hajime with a goth girlfriend who's very feminine? tyty <3

Mondo Oowada, Kazuichi Souda, and Hajime Hinata with a very feminine goth girlfriend

I looked through my masterlists bc i thought already wrote one and that i wrote hella goth fics but appareantly it's only 2 so I'm tweaking. here you go anon ily here.

might be repetitive but who caresss

thumbs up emote

Sorry if it's underwhelming, I didn't realize how short it was until I read it over this morning. Highkey was high when I wrote the small scenario parts and the bold text. [next day, afternoon edit: wtf was i talking about this shit long ash LMFAO]

-Mod Souda

Mondo Oowada

❤ Perfect. Perfect for his aesthetic. Perfect for the atmosphere his home presents and you're such a perfect doll to great him at the gate of Hope's Peak every day. People are only surprised to know you two are together because of the fact that he pulled such a baddie. He'll wrap an arm around his shoulder and tell anybody who makes a comment to fuck off. He can pull. Duh. He's got you. But it's hard for anybody to take him seriously when he'll melt at the sound of your laugh.

"If you get your fucking," he wipes his cheek, "lipstick on me one more time." "You're going to what?" He stares down at his hand, the black lipstick smeared on the back of it from his touch. His cheek is stained. It's going to look ridiculous (but not as much as post-smear). His eyes hold a glare that's more intense than if you had just cursed at him. "Nothin'." Once again, he wipes his cheek, smearing it more. "Don't do that shit again." You in fact do that shit again.

❤ Don't get your makeup on him. It ruins his masculinity. His gang makes fun of him when he rides with black lipstick on his face, forehead to chin.

❤ On the back of a motorcycle in all black with heeled shoes brrr brrr.

❤ Yeah but tuck those necklaces in.

❤ And omg he's going to steal some of your hairspray sorry but he will. Whether you mind it or not. He's going to do it.

❤ + your over-the-top makeup yesss the both of you attract so many stares.

❤ I imagine people would want to take pictures of you two. He'd fucking hate it but you're like yes of course!!!!

❤ He tries to avoid main cities anyway as much as he can anyway.

.

Kazuichi Souda

❤ Worships you like it's nobodies business. You look just like a dream. The prettiest girl he's ever seen. From the cover of a magazine. Literally that fr. He's that obsessed with you. He's the type to carry you over a sewer grate so you don't get your heels stuck in it. He helps you tie your corsets and he'll buckle your boots for you. He'll kiss your neck whenever you're leaned over the bathroom counter doing your makeup. His intimacy is acts of service, but only for you. He'd do anything for you.

"Kazuichi?" You call from your bedroom. In the early morning, he's in the living room watching TV. At the sound of your call, your tone mildly concerned, he stands without hesitation. But you weren't in danger or anything. You were just having a hard time buckling your bra. Once he opened the door, you glance over. "Do it for me." It was more of a command than a request. "W-Woah there," he laughs nervously, taking a few steps at a time. "Sure, yeah. Sure thing." With no sign of the internal fluster, he hides the urge he gets to just stare at your half-covered chest like it were glowing. He steps behind you, focusing his eyes on your shoulder blades before strapping on the second hook of your bra. You had only managed to get one in. "There you go, gorgeous." You hum, a small smile on your face. "Thank you." Looking over your shoulder at him, you see his composure and how it changed drastically while you weren't looking. His cheeks were pink and his eyebrows were furrowed with distress. "Yeah," he says breathlessly, finally getting a look at your chest. "Anytime."

❤ Lord knows he just wants to gobble you whole like om nom nom.

❤ Yes he does the cooking yes he does the cleaning.

❤ He's your malewife.

❤ It makes sense to me somehow that he would be with somebody who's hyper-feminine. It's a good match.

❤ I'm in between the thought that he'd either make goth girlfriend jokes or hate them. I feel like he'd hate seeing memes about it bc it makes him feel like they're about you specifically. Bc you're HIS girlfriend. HIS.

❤ Shows you off.

❤ You'd probably be taller than him in some of your shoes.

❤ You'd get along with his classmates hella.

❤ And he'll give you the cutest pet names. Enchantress, spider, might call you evil as a tease.

.

Hajime Hinata

❤ You're both each other's scary dog privileges. With his glare and your outward appearance, it makes you two completely unapproachable. Hangouts in the dark of night have never been safer. You don't have to be scared of shit. He's here, and you're here. Fair's fair. There's not a person in the world that would want to bother you, and the fear of annoying you breaks any onlookers confidence. Plus, you're gorgeous, and it's threatening.

"Press this button to jump." He handed you the controller, and now he's practically leaning over you as he places his hands over your own. "I got it Hajime." "Just making sure." When you try and hone in on the button, your nail gets in the way. You smile to yourself before outstretching your finger to place the pad of your finger on it, your fingerprints practically sticking to it as you press down hard. But your nail had reached the button ahead of it, grazing down, lifting a bit upwards. Your face scrunches up at the sensation. "Uhh, are you alright?" He asks, his eyebrows furrowed but smiling with adoration. "I'm good," you chuckle. "Beauty is pain."

❤ I see him as not gaf or being overly appreciative of the fact that you're goth. It's just your style. Nothing to get handsy over.

❤ He does like uniqueness tho and ofc you're the embodiment of that.

❤ Fucking hates when tourists want to take a picture though because they'll exclude him. I imagine tourists are the people that would walk up to you, locals not so much.

❤ Literally those memes of goth girlfriend with plain gamer boy.

❤ He can work an all-black wardrobe though.

❤ He looks a bit alternative just naturally. So replace those white button-ups with a black one and bam. You'll match.

[wordsinhaled]

something something established relationship shenanigans ~*~ there was more i wanted to add to this, but i had to wallop a pretty impressive bout of imposter syndrome into submission to post this, so i'm just gonna let it float off down the river the way it is <3

-

Hob wakes up with his mind already on Dream.

He pictures Dream getting his morning coffee—holding the steaming cup, lid off, the “M” in “Morfius” scribbled on the side peeking out from beneath his grip. They do tend to misspell it, Hob's noticed, in some occasionally tragic ways.

Dream would scoff and say, “This is precisely why I tell them my name is Murphy..." Hob would get his pen out of his shirt pocket and correct Dream's name for him. The ink would feather on the styrofoam, of course, and he'd probably need to tune the nib later, but it'd be worth it for the lift in Dream's forlorn expression, for the tiny satisfied smile it earned.

Hob’s thoughts drift to Dream during his lectures, too.

He remembers how they’d sat up in Hob’s bed together one evening earlier in the week while Hob skimmed through the assigned reading and marked pages in the book with sticky note flags to correspond to his discussion questions. How Dream had said to him, eventually, “You should not do your work in bed, Hob. Beds are to be used for sleep.”

How Dream’s hand had wandered up Hob’s thigh under the covers and curled around his hip, and he'd rubbed small circles there with his thumb, until Hob had looked over at him, and put down his book at last, and said, amused, “Your mind seems a bit far from sleep, love."

He'd found Dream’s eyes sparkling at him, mischievous and starry-dark, before Dream leaned over and took his reading glasses from his face, and said, “Beds can be for other things as well, of course.”

(In the end, Hob was in fact no longer doing that sort of work in bed, so he guesses Dream won that one.)

There’s a knock on Hob’s office door around noon.

Hob is expecting a student, or a colleague, but instead it’s Dream—his Dream, but not quite the same as ever: longer- and wilder-haired, leather-jacketed, taller than usual, an assortment of earrings and studs glinting in his ears.

Hob lights up.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Your thoughts have circled me rather insistently today,” Dream says, “and there was not much to do in the Dreaming. I thought I might visit.”

Hob knows there is always something for Dream to do in the Dreaming—knows Dream is, effectively, taking an actual break if he is here now. It makes his heart feel full to know his lover is choosing to share this scant, stolen time with him—and even more so to know Dream has, for once, done something for himself, however small.

He walks around his desk, kisses Dream hello. Dream tastes, impossibly, like the cinnamon latte Hob had imagined he'd have ordered that morning. He has to kiss him again to make sure; and once more after that, slow and indulgent; until he remembers he has actual work to do, and then he pulls back and touches his fingertips to Dream's choker. “This is new, darling. What’s this look, then?”

“I am... experimenting,” Dream says, the tiniest bit smug. Hob gives him the kind of thorough once-over that he hopes communicates his appreciation raucously enough.

“I’ve been attacking my emails,” he says, going regretfully back to his chair, “they’re never-ending, I swear. And I’ve got a Zoom with Liam about his writing project at two. But I hope you’ll stay anyway? Sit anywhere you like.”

“Of course,” Dream says. “I would not dream of keeping you from your tasks, Hob.” 

Hob just raises his eyebrows at him, pointed, until Dream laughs—a sound that used to be so rare, one Hob is still getting used to being able to evoke. It's an odd little noise, different every time; today it’s pitched low, somewhere between a cat’s purr and a human chuckle, and the vibration of it strokes a gentle but insistent warmth down Hob’s spine.

He expects he’ll accomplish remarkably little, if things go on this way.

Sit anywhere you like proves to be a difficult invitation. Hob’s office is largely taken up by his desk and his bookshelves on the best of days; his bicycle and umbrella vie for one corner. Most of the remaining space is currently occupied by a massive box, which contains Hob’s most recent order of secondhand books. Seating for visitors is almost an afterthought at the minute.

Yet Dream accepts Hob's challenge with aplomb, settles on the unopened box as though it is as good as any throne to him, and Hob returns to clearing out his messages.

He can feel Dream watching him, but whenever he glances up over the top of his computer, Dream has his nose buried in some tome or other plucked from Hob’s shelf. The afternoon passes like this—all through Hob’s Zoom call, during which Hob listens more distractedly than he'd like to Liam's latest additions to his thesis draft, and sweats lightly under the heat of Dream's gaze.

The moment his meeting is done, Hob snaps his laptop shut, the resounding click making Dream look up from the copy of Women's Libraries in Late Medieval Bourbonnais, Burgundy, and France he'd been perusing.

"Want to get out of here?" Hob asks.

[lokisprettygirl]

Under his influence (Post Avengers! Loki x female reader)

Read chapter 31 here/ Series Masterlist

Chapter 32

Summary : Every decision you make in life ends in either blessings or repercussions. You found your blessing when you messed with your fate and you were hoping there will be no repercussions.

Warning: 18+, there's brief smut, very brief , HUGE Canon divergence (Just me making shit up) Loki is a chick magnet but are we surprised?, mention of stalking, Reader has deeply rooted insecurities, mention of physical and sexual assault, mention of menstruation, ptsd, self deprecating behaviour, panic attack, soft precious bean loki, polite bean Loki, Dalia, Loki being the best boyfriend

Jane's visit to the tower was postponed for a week but as soon as as she arrived Thor brought her to meet you.

"This is lady y/n, she is Loki's aide and the one I told you about" Jane gasped as Thor said that and she immediately went in for a hug, you smiled as she hugged you, you had missed her alot.

"Y/n, y/n thank you for knocking some sense into him" she said to you quietly but Thor heard her anyway and shook his head.

"Trust me Jane he was losing his mind without you" she smiled as you said that "It's so nice to meet you" you told her and that smile only grew.

"Likewise, will you hang out with us later? My assistant cum friend Darcy is here as well"

Your face fell as she mentioned Darcy, you were just hoping she wouldn't fall for Loki this time around in the first place because you knew how impossible it was to get over him once you have crossed that threshold.

"Sure I'll see you after work, if I'm ever done with it" you chuckled and Jane's eyebrows quirked.

"That bad huh? Loki is being tough to work with?" She asked you so you smiled.

"Well it's not Loki, it's Dalia, his PR agent" She nodded as you said that, you were getting a call from Dalia so you excused yourself and made your way towards her office.

"Bring us coffee" She said as soon as you entered, Loki smiled as he looked at you but you averted your gaze.

"Anything else?" You asked so Dalia glared at you,

"Actually yes, bring one for yourself and join us, I would need your opinion on these uhh photographs" Loki said to you so you nodded.

"How is her opinion going to help us?" Dalia asked him as you left,

"Her advice will benefit my social appearance, a comman person opinion if you will" Loki said to her and Dalia sighed.

"Loki I think you need-" He glared at her as she placed her hand on his shoulder,

"Don't touch me" He warned her so she pulled her hand away,

"I'm just saying that –"

"Shhhhhh Dalia that is enough of your cribbing for the day" he said that to her without even looking at her, he was engrossed in his phone like he always was in her presence.

She had never met someone like him, the more he talked down to her the more she felt attracted to him in a weird way.

As you returned with their drinks Loki stood up and pulled a chair out for you to sit down, Dalia visibly fumed at the gesture.

"Thank you sir i appreciate that" you said to him and he gave you your coffee before he turned the laptop towards you, he stood behind your chair, one of his arms was resting on the chair while the other one was on the desk in front of you, you were able to smell his cologne and it was driving you crazy.

"Will you be so kind as to select the pictures you think will be best for that redundant magazine cover?" He said to you softly so you looked at him and then your gaze averted to Dalia, she was glaring at you but eventually she turned away.

"Sure sir, you look great though. In every picture" he smiled as you complimented him "I'll add the selected ones in a seperate folder" you told him so he moved away and went back to his chair, he had a midgardian button up black shirt on with a loose pair of sweatpants, he shouldn't have looked that attractive wearing something so mismatched, he had no right to be his godly self in the most basic of attire.

"For the party in the evening your designer have selected this blue suit"

Dalia said to him as she showed him a photo on her phone, she was leaning into him and whispering.

"Fine by me" he said but he didn't even look at the photo, you knew she suddenly had hots for him since last week but there was nothing you could have done about it, you told Loki she was fancying him and his first reaction was to laugh and then his solution to avoid this situation was to be mean to her as much as he can be. He didn't understand that it was the reason why she was attracted to him in the first place. That Dalia seemed like a Kinky bitch.

You could hear the sound of thunder raging outside and it wasn't Thor for a change so you went to your room and immediately made your way to the open balcony, it was raining heavily and you just wanted to dip your toes in the rain, it's been weeks since you have been here and not once you had gone out of this tower. You missed your apartment, you couldn't believe how much you missed that little space you had, it was yours and you loved it, the memories you had made with Loki when he first turned up in your apartment always made you feel bittersweet, sometimes you just wanted to get back and relive those moments.

You stood at the edge of the balcony and placed your hands on the railing, the raindrops had drenched you almost immediately. You looked up and closed your eyes to feel the rain on your face but a small gasp escaped your throat as you felt an arm circling around your waist, it was Loki.

"What are you doing here mister?" You chuckled as you placed your head down on his shoulder.

"I was missing you my princess" he mumbled softly so you turned your head to kiss his cheek.

"How are you feeling?" He asked you because he could sense something was bothering you, he had tried to make Dalia back off a little bit but he knew she must be bothering you even more when he wasn't there.

"I'm okay lo, why?"

"I know darling that you miss your home and this isn't the life you wanted –" you cut him off before he could speak further, turning around you wrapped your arms around his neck and smiled.

"I do miss my stupid little apartment and I do wish sometimes that I was there with you, just me and you, but I want the life where I am with you, if it's here then be it, it doesn't matter, you know how grateful I am that you're all mine right?" He smiled as you finished your sentence and cupped your cheeks to kiss you "It would be nice to get out of this tower though" you mumbled so he thought about it.

"We can go out darling, I will figure something out alright?" He remembered that your 30th birthday was right around the corner and he wanted to do something nice for you.

"Yeah?"

"I'll do anything for you, you should know that" you giggled as he booped your nose with his index finger.

"You look good all soaked mister" you said to him as you kissed him.

"That is my line"

He took you inside immediately after that because he didn't want you to get sick, every moment you spent with him was magical, you had never been treated this way by anyone so at times just being around him felt surreal, at times you couldn't believe that love like this existed and somehow you were lucky enough to stumble upon it.

Unfortunately he couldn't have stayed for long and you watched in awe as dried himself using magic and winked before he teleported. In the evening you got ready for Tony's birthday party, that man had a million parties in a week but atleast tonight he had a valid reason, you quickly made your way to Loki's room where he was getting dolled up, you had to be extra careful to not leave things in his room if you ever sneaked in there because he usually got prepped there. You looked at him and he didn't seem stressed in the least bit or even out of place at all, he was a prince, all of this was probably a piece of cake for him.

Your eyes fell upon Dalia and you didn't understand why she was there, she was Tony's PR agent as well but you never saw her clinging onto him the way she did with Loki.

You noticed that Dalia was wearing a dress for a change and not a business suit, she was older than you but she looked good, like a very hot school teacher, and you knew Loki didn't care about the age stuff since he went for you when he could have gone much younger so you weren't completely unthreatened by Dalia. You trusted Loki but how much temptation one single man could ignore you wondered?

"No tie, not doing that darling" He said to his stylist so she took it off and left the top button unbuttoned, the way the petname rolled off his lips bothered you slightly but it was your own jealousy, he addressed everyone that way.

He was otherworldly gorgeous and so fucking polite, you didn't blame people for falling left right and centre for him but you wondered how long you'll be able to take it before you explode someday and claim him as yours publically.

"Do you live in some other world? Because Lord knows that exists now" You heard Dalia's voice so you looked at her confused.

"What?" You asked her

"I have called your name three times, i know he's fucking handsome and you're drooling for him but for god sake listen to me when I'm speaking to you" The whole room went silent as Dalia raised her voice at you, none of them said a word though, except Loki.

"Is there a problem?" Loki asked her and she groaned as she looked at him "There's so much of commotion, your voice perhaps did not reach her " he said to her sternly.

"I don't need excuses for her incompetence Loki" she said to him, you noticed his jaw clenching and before he could snap you interfered

"I'm sorry, did you need something?" You asked her as politely as you could even though all you wanted to do was hit her.

"Give me the list I asked for" she said to you.

"I sent it to you on the mail"

"I need it on paper" you sighed and turned around so you could go to her office and get a print out. As you reached there you quickly used the computer to generate a print out and you were about to grab the paper and leave when you noticed something familiar peeking at you from the drawer of her desk, you didn't want to pry but curiosity killed the cat, you gasped as you opened her drawer and found Loki's handkerchief in there, you could smell his familiar scent even before you had opened the drawer.

"What a creep" you groaned loudly but then you realized that you were stealing his clothes too when he was living with you in your apartment. But that was different, he was yours, you couldn't believe she had his kerchief with her, what was she planning to do with it? Masturbate?

"Gahhhhh" you groaned and placed the piece of fabric back where it was and walked out of her office, on the way up you saw Captain and Bucky entering the elevator so you smiled. You were standing in the middle of the lift so they stood by your either side.

For a few moments it was as awkward as it could have been with those two around.

"How's work Y/n?" Captain asked you so you smiled,

"Good, I think about jumping off the cliff only twice a day" you answered him and then immediately squeezed your eyes but your worries faded as Steve smiled.

"That's how some jobs are unfortunately..hang in there" He said to you so you smiled, both of them were going to the party but you had to go to Loki's room first, however when you reached there the room was dark and empty so you made your way back to the party. You were on your way to the lounge when you bumped into Thor, Jane and Darcy. She was chewing a gum even though she was dressed fancily.

"I'm so nervous" Jane said so you smiled, you felt like the roles had reversed, when you came here the first time Jane was the one who had invited you and she seemed so comfortable here.

"Don't be you'll fit in just right, btw I'm y/n" you put out your hand for Darcy so she shook it.

"Darcy, I'm Jane's assistant, I heard you're Loki's assistant" she said to you so you nodded. As you all reached the lounge your eyes scanned around for the gorgeous love of your life, your precious muffin.

"There is my little brother, let me introduce you both" Thor said as he spotted Loki.

"Holy moly.. Please tell me he's single"

"Shut Up Darcy" Jane quieted Darcy but you couldn't help and curse internally. Women, women fawning all over him and almost all of them were much prettier than you ever could be. Loki would have spanked you for having such thoughts again but he didn't have to know.

Loki smiled as he saw Thor, His lady Jane and his sweet princess approaching him, as soon as he saw you he knew he'd have to take you somewhere reclusive and show you how pretty you looked tonight. However as soon as Darcy came into his eyeline he was slightly affected by her presence, she was a friend, a good friend to him in the previous timeline, there was this one night both of them had spent on the roof of the tower where he was just crying over you all night long and not once she acted as if she was annoyed by it, but he also remembered how she had read too much into his friendship and had developed feelings for him so he was relieved in a way that he had the opportunity to rewrite this journey.

"I'll go give this to Dalia" You excused yourself and Loki nodded, once you were away from them Thor looked at Loki as he spoke

"Lady Dalia seems to be a tough Taskmaster, doesn't she?" he said with a smirk on his face so Loki looked him in the eye.

"I do not wish to use the word that comes to my mind when I think of her and the way she treats y/n, that poor soul is doing her absolute best" Jane smirked as Loki said that so Loki cleared his throat and excused himself.

"Woah you look handsome on screen but in real life the hotness level is raised ten times higher" Darcy said as she followed Loki so he smiled.

"Enjoy the feast Lady Darcy, I'll see you around" he said politely to her, he didn't want to be rude to her or be aloof, he just hoped she'd take a hint and find someone else.

He looked around at the party, thankfully it was Tony's birthday celebration so Dalia was busy with him, now all he had to do was find you once the party gets going and everyone else is seemingly drunk.

He did find you eventually and he saw you making your way out of the lounge so he followed you and he quickly checked to see if anyone was there and if there were any cameras in the range, you were going to the bathroom so he made himself invisible and followed behind you.

As you opened the bathroom door and tried to close it you noticed something stopping it from closing and you knew what it was or who it was. You smiled as the door finally closed and in an instant you were scooped in his arms and he made you sit down on the sink as he kissed you feverishly, he finally made himself visible and you couldn't have been happier.

"Pretty little bird has no time to spare for me does she?" You smiled as he said before he placed his head between the crook of your neck and kissed the bare skin.

"I'm not the one to blame here…ohhhh" you said but your words ended in a gasp as he wrapped your legs around his waist, he rode your dress up and lowered your underwear down slowly before he placed them in the pocket of his suit

"Did you need to use the facilities?" He asked you softly as he placed his fingers on your chin to make you look at him.

"No I just needed to get away from Dalia" you told him honestly

"I know Princess, one of these days the evil that is rooted in me would flare and snap her neck" he whispered in your ear and you wanted to tell him that there wasn't one single evil bone in his body but the way he slid his cock inside your wet cunt had shut you up real good.

You cupped his cheeks and kissed him as he maintained a slow rhythm of his hips thrusting in and out of you,

"I shouldn't encourage you when you are saying stuff like that" he chuckled and his hand gripped a chunk of your hair, he pulled your head back and kissed down from your neck.

"I'm sorry princess, I wish I was able to protect you better than this" you noticed the sadness in his voice so you grabbed a hold of his cheeks and made him look at you

"Don't say that, you're doing everything you can, besides I'm a big girl and I can take care of myself at work okay?"

"Yess I am sorry..I abhor watching her torment you this way"

"Well atleast I'm getting paid" you smiled as you whispered "And I get to be here with you lo, it's a miracle" you kissed him again to shut those thoughts in his head, he had enough problems of his own that came with being an Avenger, you knew what you were doing and what you were getting into when you took this job, you could have gone back but you knew being away from him would have cut you much deeper than working for Satan Dalia herself could ever.

You didn't have much time so he quickened his pace until you both exploded in unison, you didn't know how it was possible that everytime he fucked you, you only grew closer and closer to him, not just physically or emotionally, but spiritually.

As he calmed down he looked at you as you leaned against the sink while you attempted to catch your breath, a truly gorgeous sight, the most ethereal, your heavy breaths always made his cold blood warm.

"Norns you are beautiful my darling, I feel like I don't tell you that enough" your eyes teared up as he said that.

"You do" you whispered as you kissed his forehead, after cleaning you up he took your underwear out of his coat.

"I am tempted to keep this instead" you chuckled as he said that, as tempting as it seemed you didn't want to go back to the party with no underwear, especially with Loki around, the risk of being wet was always severe. He pulled the underwear up your legs slowly and his hands went beneath your hips as he lifted you off the sink and pulled you closer to kiss you as deeply as he could.

"This colour you have on will look so good on your natural skin" you mumbled softly as your fingers curled around his neck so he leaned into you to kiss you. He always adored the way you never failed to mention his jotun form, he knew that you wanted him to believe that you loved all of his sides so the effort was always extra special.

"I love you and I'm going to miss you darling, it's.. been days…fucking days since I have slept being held in your arms" he mumbled as he placed his head down on your chest, his voice had a deep rumble to it, a mix of agitation and sadness combined, you stroked his hair slowly as you sighed. It has been days, the last few days he had been on a mission and tonight, well you didn't think you'll get to cuddle at all with him. He had an early morning interview with a news channel so you both had to be up at 3 am. That if you will get any sleep at all.

"Shhh it's okay baby..it's okay.. I love you" you cooed in his ears and then you kissed him to calm down those worries.

Once you both returned to the party you joined Jane and kept her company, talking with her always felt easy and you were glad the friendship was beginning to bloom again.

You were looking around and you couldn't help but think about that one thing The Loki from the future had said to you, he said that he would have found you eventually but that's what bothered you, you didn't wait for fate to bring you two together again, you took the matter in your hands and you often wondered if that decision was going to cause trouble. You hoped not.

You really were hoping for nothing to go wrong but your fear solidified when you received a call from your mom telling you that Mrs Geller had gotten into a freak accident.

An event that had never happened in the previous timeline. You couldn't help but wonder if she was battling between the life and death because of you. Did the accident occur because you had decided to change your fate?

😥😥😥😥😥😥😥😥😥😥😥😥😥

Taglist

@annoyingsweetsstranger @mcufan72 @nixymarvelkins @stupidthoughtsinwriting @fictive-sl0th @eleniblue @violethaze @anukulee @ladymischief11 @12-pm-510 @wolfsmom1 @whylokiissocute @pics-and-fanfics @daddylokisqueen @olivertwistrabbit @blog-the-lilly @prettylittlepluviophile @vanilla-daydreaming @somewiseguy @yaaamadaa-blog @dragonmurray @elthreetimes @gruftiela @thenotoriouserg @greep215 @yallgotkik @tactac286 @janineb86 @sflame15-blog @nyxlaufeyson @lokidokieokie @purplekitten30 @sunnixart @nikkig496-blog @frozenhuntress67 @qardasngan @rosecentury @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @hrefna-the-raven @jennyggggrrr

@cosniffee

[gravedigginbbydoll]

Hawkins University : The Munson Edition

AN: Hey y'all! I'm sorry for the brief hiatus, my birthday was last weekend and my family came to visit last Monday. From now on, I will be posting on Fridays! Anyways, we're diving more into Eddie and Bug feeling some physical attraction ;) We're about halfway through! (Don't worry, once Eddie is over we get Steve + I would be down to do blurbs of Eddie and Bug <3 ) Anyways, I hope you enjoy! Also pls remember reblogs and comments are appreciated ! I love feedback!

→ cliches: friends to lovers, heavy use of nicknames instead of Y/N, we're all just struggling college kids, Music Tutor! Eddie, Resident Assistant! Reader, good girl x bad boy, instant connections, 'I don't trust most people but I trust you', 'are we friends or more?', and 'I can't believe you're such a slut that you have a special dtf drawer...'

→ warnings: mature topics, drinking and drug usage, strong language, bullying, mental health, discussion of suicide and self harm, mature thoughts, eventual smut, minors dni

→ pairing: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader

<Previous Masterlist Next>

Chapter 5 

Eddie’s POV

Eddie didn’t want to admit it at the time, but he was so nervous about having you over. Sure, you were over every weekend and usually it was the two of you alone, but never were you staying in his room. You always stayed in the living room or kitchen, both of you out in the open. He had sort of asked you in a spur of the moment need of a distraction. He would usually bother Nancy or Steve, but Nancy was headed to visit her little brother in the nearby town, while Steve had planned on sleeping over at Rob’s for their weekly movie nights. So he asked you, which wasn’t usually a big deal. But Eddie didn’t just like you or think you were cool. Eddie thought you were gorgeous. He often shook off the thoughts because he knew you were often stretched thin with both of your jobs and he was on the verge of failing a course, a relationship out of the cards for both of you. Plus, Eddie knew you were such an exemplary student and a high achiever. He was embarrassed to admit he felt ‘lesser’ around you sometimes due to being a ‘super senior’ in high school and being older than you despite you both being Sophomores. Sure, being 22 in comparison to being 19 or 20 wasn’t a whole lot, but Eddie still felt some shame. 

Eddie raced around his room after his quick shower, panicking and trying to tidy the place a bit. He wasn’t extremely messy, just often disorganized. He hid his cuffs and ropes which had been left out after a previous encounter, along with putting away clothes and trying to make the room at least look presentable. You were headed to your dorm to grab some clothes and such, sure to be headed his way soon. When Eddie could finally see the floor and felt secure in knowing his special toys were in their box and shoved under the bed, he began to calm a bit. 

Well…at least for a bit. But then his thoughts began to wander. 

Did you wear a bra to bed? Would you be okay with sharing the bed? Or should I take the couch? Would you cuddle? What if you did, without a bra, and- Shit. 

Eddie sat at his desk, his cock half hard, mind swirling with sinful images picturing you without a bra, one of his t-shirts on you. He imagined the way your breasts would move without the restrictive fabric, the way they’d feel against him with only a thin layer between the two of you. His cheeks flushed as he groaned softly, trying to shake the thoughts away. Eddie sighed and looked toward his phone, cursing himself for not thinking this through. He’d have to be cautious so as to not be so turned on with you here. 

He saw his cracked screen light up, his heart thumping at the sight. He picked up the phone, able to read the message despite his very fucked up cell. 

Bug: On my way!

He sighed softly and decided to head into the kitchen, readying the movies and snacks. There were sour gummies for you and chocolates for him, along with a bowl of popcorn and sodas and beer. He laid them out while staring at the movies he had picked. Most were cheesy retro slashers, both of you bonding one weekend over a love for goofy horror films like Killer Klowns From Outer Space and Frankenhooker. Eddie rented both films and was excited to giggle with you over the campiness of it all. He had placed all the snacks on the coffee table and made the movies ready to go when you knocked on his door, surprising him. 

He came up, opening the door, only to feel his chest tighten and his cheeks heat. 

You stood there, face free of the makeup you sported earlier, and clothes much more casual, a pair of pajama bottoms and an oversized shirt on your upper half, sneakers on your feet. You smelled fresh, like you had quickly showered and washed off all the sweat you had built up that night. But Eddie was really flushed at how gorgeous you still were dressed down. He also noticed one thing he knew he would have to pretend he wasn’t noticing. 

You didn’t wear a bra. 

You beamed at him, your smile causing the rest of the blood not already there to travel lower and his stomach to flutter. 

“You gonna let me in, Munson?” You joked, eyes glittering with mischief. 

Eddie stepped aside, grinning sheepishly, ushering you in. 

Good God, he was fucked. 

You and Eddie sat down on the couch, giggling at the ridiculousness of Killer Klowns and Eddie doing his best to make you laugh at his impersonations. By the end of the third film of the night (which had been Elvira Mistress of the Dark, whom you and Eddie both had a crush on as kids), you were both crashing from your sugar high and yawning, with you rubbing your eyes sleepily. Eddie ushered you to the bathroom, letting you brush your teeth and wash your face. You used the restroom, only to groan and open the door, clearly looking embarrassed. 

“Eddie…I may have to go home.” 

Eddie walked over, frowning down at you. Only your head was peaking out of the bathroom, only leaving him to guess what was wrong. 

“What’s wrong, Bug?” 

You looked like you wanted to melt into the floor, making Eddie’s stomach twist. Were you okay? He felt a sense of fear wash over him as he worried that maybe he pushed you too far. 

“Y-yeah…I just, ugh, I- I got my period,” You mumbled, looking away. 

Eddie felt a wave of relief and sighed, smiling softly at you. “Oh thank God. I have stuff in the bottom cabinet closest to the toilet. So don’t worry about it. But I’ll drive you back if you feel uncomfortable.” 

You looked up in surprise and smiled softly, still looking a bit embarrassed. “Oh. Okay…Uh, I’ll-I’ll try to stay.” 

Eddie smiled and went back into his room, changing into his comfortable sweats and loose cut off Metallica shirt. He was in the process of fluffing his pillows when you came in, looking at him inquisitively. 

“What?,” He cocked his head at you, confused. 

“What’s up with the minor convenience store in your bathroom cabinet?,” You teased, sitting on the bed by him. 

Eddie froze up. You were referring to ‘the baskets’. Eddie would be honest, he knew he ‘got around’. He used sex in college as a form de-stress, a way to break away. He started last year as a freshman when he discovered that girls and guys alike in Hawkins liked rough around the edges men who wore makeup and played in bands. In high school, Eddie was ‘The Freak’ and consistently treated like some kind of weirdo. But in Hawkins? He was viewed as a devil's food cake, delectable and sinful. The ‘baskets’ had started as a little thing that Eddie did when having people over, so he could be the most amazing host. There was shampoo, deodorant, tampons, pads, midol, ibuprofen, salve, and more in the little gray tubs, all organized and neat. The ‘baskets’ were split into masculine and feminine products, seeing as Eddie swung either way. He wasn’t ashamed of it, but felt something stir in his stomach about you knowing about his hookups. He hadn’t had many once meeting you, aside from Chrissy a few times. But she never came over, and he’d truly slept with her maybe 3 times. 

“It’s…Uh,” Eddie scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, looking away. “It’s for when people come over.” 

You nodded, looking away nonchalantly before your eyes began to grow wide in realization, probably remembering the morning after pills stashed beside the period products. Eddie felt his stomach twist as you laughed a little, your eyes glinting with mischief. 

“Eddie. Darling. Light of my life. You have a Hookup Basket?!,” You giggled, looking over at him in shock as he pouted. 

“Hey, I just want to make sure people are comfortable when they are here,” He defended himself weakly, blushing red. 

“Eddie Munson, you are a manwhore. Lovingly, you are such a manwhore. This is the first time I have ever heard of a hookup basket,” You teased, Eddie pouting at you. 

He hit you softly with a pillow before getting up and heading to the bathroom, cheeks still red as apples. 

“Whatever,” He grumbled, pouting still. 

“Be sure to floss, manwhore,” You teased, leaving Eddie to groan in the bathroom as he brushed his teeth. 

You’d never let him live this down. 

Eddie sat in his bed next to you in the middle of the night, mind racing. He was woken up by a nightmare of failing all his classes, only to show up at a party naked, both you and Chrissy there laughing at him. It was a silly nightmare, truly, but Eddie couldn't help but be terrified of the reality. He was staring at his phone and reading a book when you sleepily sat up, eyes barely opened. Eddie would’ve thought it was the cutest thing ever if he wasn’t still panicking over his life choices. 

“Eds? What’re you doing up?,” You grumbled, eyes squinting at him in the dark. Your voice was slurred and drowsy still. 

“Jus’ had a nightmare ‘s all…Go back to sleep, Bug,” Eddie whispered softly. 

You sat up a bit, frowning at him. “Nightmare? Is everything okay?” 

Eddie sighed, putting down his phone and looking at you. The room was dark, only the dim light of the moon shining through the blinds to let him make out where you were. His chest felt tight. Maybe he could tell you what was wrong. 

“Have you ever wondered if you made the right choice? Or whether or not everyone was actually right in what they said about you?,” Eddie asked, heart thumping. He didn’t feel like you would relate, but he still wanted to get his feelings out. You stared at him silently, eyes begging him to continue. 

“I spent all this time in high school struggling only to finally make it to college at 20 and fail. I hate my fucking major, but going into just music is ‘impractical’ and I’m just going to wind up flunking and dropping out, disappointing Uncle Wayne by turning into my father-” Eddie was surprised by the blurred vision and tears falling down his face. His voice was cracking and shaking. He hadn’t spoken to anyone about this really, not even Steve. 

Eddie felt you grab his hand, softly squeezing. He sighed, tried to regulate his breathing, before continuing. 

“I almost signed up for Music Therapy when I first applied here. But everyone I spoke to suggested Production. Wayne, my advisor. And even the idea sounded cool. I could earn money and get to work with big names I love or meet new ones and help make music. But…god…it feels so soulless. I feel dread walking into those classes and the only thing that has kept me going is guitar or those snotty and bratty kids I teach at The Ghost Note, “ Eddie laughed humorlessly. His hands were shaking as tears still fell down his cheeks slowly. “I just don’t know what to do. I’m supposed to be the first gen student. I don’t want all of Wayne’s work to be for nothing.” 

You stayed quiet for a moment, rubbing the back of Eddie's hand soothingly before speaking. 

“Look, Eds…I don’t know much about music or even production. But what I do know is that you are an amazing teacher. I see your eyes light up when I finally nail something and…honestly? It’s an amazing feeling. And sure, you’re older than most sophomores, but who cares? Some people don’t get a degree until they’re like 40! And you’re blazing the trail for your family. Honestly, I think you’d do amazing in Music Therapy or Education. And plenty of people change their major. Don’t just stick to it because it’s ‘practical’. You deserve to love what you do, Eddie Munson. And no matter what you decide, whether it’s that you want to drop everything and suddenly move to California and be a rockstar, or you want to teach ‘snotty nose brats’ how to use music as an outlet like you do, I’ll be proud.” 

Eddie felt his heart be squeezed and his stomach twist. Could he follow his heart? You sure made it seem so. Eddie had always assumed he needed to ‘man up’ and do what was needed, but you made it seem so easy. Maybe he could turn this around. 

“Thanks, Bug.” 

“You’re welcome, Stinky. Now go the hell to sleep, you barely get enough as it is,” You yawned, laying back down and still facing Eddie. 

Eddie scrunched up his nose, frowning. “Stinky? What the hell do you mean? You always ramble about how I smell like apple pie!” 

You giggled softly, face already nestled in the pillow. “You definitely farted in your sleep at one point. I heard it when I woke up to go pee.” 

Eddie felt his cheeks heat to unimaginable degrees as he huffed and laid down, turning his back to you. “Liar. I did not,” He grumbled. 

You sighed, laughing a little before tugging gently at his messy bun. “Go the hell to sleep, Stinky. We can debate your farts tomorrow.” 

Eddie tried to keep a pout on his face but couldn’t stop the slight smile as he heard you begin to doze off before him, your light snores filling his room. 

He’d tease you about it in the morning. 

Taglist: @josephquinnsfreckles @corrodedcoffincumslut @kirisuteg0men @bebe07011 @amira0303 @vintagehellfire @lottie-90

[ladytauria]

Hear me out: 92 and jaycest for the smut prompts

i heard you loud and clear nonny 😌

this... ended up being a monster of a fic (almost 6k) so i'm not posting the entirety of it here, lmao.

my original plan for this was to be a coda to cloves, smoke, and honey, but every time i sat down to write nothing came to me. so finally i started listing jay pairings while looking up selfcest prompts and—then something clicked and i ended up with this <3

in which hood!jay ends up in a universe where his alternate never died <3

i had a really good time with this one! i hope you enjoy <3

(note: i was picturing jay at about ~17 in this, and jason at least 22. however, no ages are stated; just that jay is going to college soon <3)

>> AO3 <<

Hood plants his hands on the desk, leaning against it, looking up at the monitors. Batman and Nightwing are still out. Spoiler and Robin’s curfews got called an hour ago. (Tim’s probably still sulking about it, but whatever. School’s important, no matter what the brat thinks.) Alfred retired when they did.

That leaves just Hood and Jay.

Hood… He showed up just shy of a month ago. Some asshole’s running around, opening portals to other dimensions, and Hood got caught in the crossfire. Stranded, until they can catch the guy.

He won’t show them his face. Won’t even walk around in just a domino! Instead, he’s always wearing that obnoxious red helmet.

It’s driving B crazy.

Even Tim, stalker extraordinaire, hasn’t been able to figure out Hood’s identity.

Or. If he has, the little gremlin isn’t sharing. Jason highly doubts he’d hide it, though. B and Dick are too wound up about it.

Jay… He can’t blame them. Hood’s scarily well-trained. Bruce tried putting him on lock down once and he just breezed right past the defenses as soon as they left. That’s when Dick had suggested they work together—mostly to keep an eye on Hood, which they all know Hood is aware of.

Jay’s pretty sure Dick meant to take the job. Hood and B… well, the way his hackles raise if Batman so much as glances in his direction… That’s a powder keg waiting to blow. Thing is, while Hood will tolerate Nightwing—mostly—the one he trusts the most is…

Jay.

It’s flattering.

And it’s kind of nice to be the one in charge of keeping an eye on Hood.

Jay is still a recent graduate of his Robin role, and it’s a struggle to be taken seriously as his own hero. He’s… looking forward to college, honestly. To either put vigilantism on the back burner or just set up somewhere new—he hasn’t decided yet. It’ll be nice, to leave and come back changed.

Anyway, but actually being trusted to run with Hood at night makes him feel… More like a part of the team. He knows Bruce will never trust him as much as he does Dick—and he’d like to say he’s made his peace with that, but he hasn’t—but at least he trusts him with something.

Jay just wishes he wasn’t so distracted. Even now, Jay’s not paying as much attention to what’s on the monitors so much as he is the way Hood’s tac pants pull taut over his ass and thighs. Which—fuck, those thighs. Firm and muscular and thick.

He choked a guy out with them earlier tonight. Jay’s blood had rushed south so fast he’d thought he was gonna pass out. It’d taken every trick he knew to will his erection down so he could keep working.

The arousal still sings in his blood—a quiet tune, but present all the same. Jay wets his lips, and then walks over to him. “That was some nice fightin’ tonight, Hood,” he says casually, drawing closer to Hood. “Bet you’re tired.  I wouldn’t mind givin’ ya a hand.” He trails his fingers over Hood’s forearm—doubts he feels it much, with his armor and jacket still in the way. “You could take a nice, hot shower, and then… I could give ya a massage. Work out some of that tension you’ve been carryin’.”

Hood is still. Jay’s not sure he’s breathing. “Kid,” he says—and then stops, hands flexing on the table. Jay waits for him to gather himself, or shake his head and tell him to get lost.

It’s not the first time he’s flirted with Hood. It was a joke at first. Hood was attractive, Jay recognized that from the start, but… Well. Jay had discovered a few years ago that flirting was a good way to throw people off of their game. (It also invited trouble, of course. The silent ‘I-told-you-so’ from Bruce after Mask started showing actual interest in him had been deafening. But mostly, it served Jason well, so he kept going it.) He hadn’t meant anything by it at first.

He does now.

Has since Hood shoved him up against a wall, bracketing him in with his body, one gloved hand pressed against his mouth. He’d hardly noticed the people passing them; senses too full of leather and steel and gunpowder. His cock had strained in his cup, a thousand times more uncomfortable than the brick at his back.

His attempts since have been utterly sincere.

Hood has never told him off. A few times, he’s even flirted back… before obviously stopping himself.

Jay persists.

“You don’t want this,” Hood says finally, turning his head to meet Jay’s eyes. The whites of his helmet are blank. They give nothing away. Neither does his voice, not with the modulator in the way. Even his body language is inscrutable.

“You don’t get to tell me that,” Jay tells him, his voice breathier than he means it to be. Anticipation thrums in his veins.

Hood lets go of the desk, standing up to his full height. Jay— Jay will be lucky to hit 5’7. More than likely, he’s going to be stuck at 5’5 for the rest of his life. Hood… Hood is taller than Bruce, beating him out by a single inch. Jay has to tip his head back to keep holding Hood’s gaze.

“You have… no idea who you’re talking to,” Hood says, and the modulator adds to the harshness of his tone.

Rather than turn Jay off, it makes him shiver before defiantly lifting his chin.

“Oh, fuck off. You wanna tell me you’re not interested? Fine, that’s fair. I’ll back off. You wanna tell me to stop? Fine. That’s fair. I stop. But you don’t get to tell me that I don’t want this. That I don’t want you.”

Jay steps closer. He already stripped out of his armor, leaving him in nothing but a form-fitting t-shirt and tight leggings. He ditched his cup, too, which means when he grinds his hips forward, there’s nothing to prevent Hood from feeling his erection as he plasters himself against Hood’s side, stretching onto his tip-toes. His lips brush where Hood’s ear would be, if not for the helmet.

“Let me show you how much I mean what I say,” he whispers.

Hood goes still again—but it’s the same kind of stillness that falls just before a storm. Jay holds his breath.

It’s knocked from him when Hood grabs him, broad hands gripping his waist and lifting him onto the desk—his ass just barely missing the keyboard.

Then, he reaches up; a low, mechanical hiss sending Jay’s heart into his throat. Hood tosses the helmet aside—Jay hears it hit the ground, roll, but he doesn’t bother to look where it lands. Instead, he watches Hood rip his domino off next, tossing that aside too, and then, finally—

Jay sees him.

He drinks him in ravenously. The scar, starring at his mouth and trailing up, up, to his temple, where it disappears into his hairline. His hair is dark, curly, wild and askew the same way Jay’s is after a patrol. There’s a shock of white in the front, where his bangs curl on his forehead, forming a heart shape.

Huh.

Jason’s do that too.

Their noses are similar, too; a little crooked, with a raised bump in the middle. They’ve both got full mouths, settled into a natural pout. A small scattering of freckles over their noses, including a darker one under the left eye.

A scar, mostly faded, over a brow.

Jay’s eyes go wide. “You’re—” Me, he doesn’t finish, the word sticking in his throat.

How many times had he tried to guess which of them Hood could be, if any of them at all? Himself had never crossed his mind, not once.

Hood… He wielded guns with brutal efficiency. None of Bruce’s security measures could contain him. When Nightwing challenged him to a spar, they’d been so close to evenly matched. He had the height, the bulk to match Bruce, and—

He was just…

Hood was dangerous, and lethal, and confident, and skilled, and big, and—

So very unlike Jay at all.

Yet… There he is. He has a few more scars, and his jaw is more defined, but— They have the same full cheeks, the ones that give him perpetual babyface. Especially with his long, dark lashes and full, pink lips.

Jay… is starting to see why people call him pretty.

“I told you,” Hood—Jason says harshly. It’s Jay’s first time hearing it without the modulator. His voice is low, gravelly. It makes his skin pebble.

Hood being Jason doesn’t make him want him less at all. He’s still the same ultra-competent badass that he was before, and—

Jay would like to get his hands on him right now, pretty please.

Jason doesn’t seem to have gotten the memo. Insecurity still runs deep, Jay guesses.

“Go on. It’s past time little birdies went back to their nests.”

Jay fists both hands in the collar of his jacket before Jason can take more than a single step. “Shut up,” he snaps—and then yanks him down into a fierce, hungry kiss.

Jason gasps into his mouth.

For one heart-stopping second, Jay thinks he’s going to be shoved away. Thinks Jason will look at him with disgust, humiliate him for even considering that Jason might want anything to do with him.

Jason doesn’t.

Instead, he steps forward, forcing Jay to tip his head back. There’s the rustle of fabric, and then—a hand, no longer gloved, tangles in his hair, pulling just-so in a way that makes Jay gasp, shiver, hips rocking forward, grinding his dick against the molded abs of Jason’s armor.

His moan is embarrassing, high enough that the bats rustle restlessly above them.

Jason presses the advantage, plunging his tongue in Jay’s mouth. It tastes of peppermint and cigarettes as Jason licks into him slow and deep, delving into every nook and crevice of Jay’s mouth.

Jay shudders; legs locking around Jason’s waist.

When Jason pulls away… Jay whines, trying to chase him. It’s the hand in his hair that stills him; fingers tightening, holding him in place.

“Please,” he begs.

Jason’s nostrils flare. Then… his gaze flickers around them, evaluating their surroundings.

“Not here,” he says finally.

Jay whimpers, embarrassingly high, when Jason lifts him; hands braced under his thighs, the curve of his ass.

And Jay— he may not be very tall, but he’s solid; all muscle and pockets of fat, a body honed through years of training.

Jason holds him like he weighs nothing at all.

Even when they climb the stairs, Jason taking them two-by-two, he doesn’t falter. Barely breathes any heavier, even when Jay gives into the urge to start sucking marks onto his neck.

He knows he’s affected. He can feel his pulse, hear the soft hitches in his breathing, but—

His steps never waver.

>> continue on ao3 <<

[daughterofthequeen]

Contribution

Pairings: Ezra Bridger x gn!reader

Requested by: @theriseofshin

A/N: I added a little more to the story I hope that's ok. And omg look at the gif I found, Eman is so Ezra coded. THE SHOULDER BOUNCE WHEN THEY SMILE. Ok so this based on season 3 episode 11 of Rebels and also somewhere in between S3 E11 and S3 E13. The idea just popped up in my head, we'll see how it goes. Reader is force sensitive. This is also unedited btw.

Summary: When you, Sabine, and Kanan followed Maul and Ezra to Dathomir, the witches somehow took away your powers. Which should've been impossible, but ever since that incident you've felt like you brought nothing to the team. You felt like you were in the way. Seeing this Ezra quickly took these thoughts from your mind reminding you of who you are.

Translation: kokipa- fear

You were laying on your bed enjoying having the room to yourself for once. I mean don't get me wrong, you and Sabine get along really well as roommates as well as sisters can be anyway, but lately in your spare time you'd ather be alone. After what happened on Dathomir, you rather not be around anyone.

EDIT: I accidentally deleted this when I was trying to make a correction. You guys don’t know how stressed I was.

And HUGE shout to @nubimera for reblogging this story because not only were you the first reblog of this fic but you are the reason I was able to get pictures of my fic so I wouldn’t have to rewrite it. THANK YOU SO MUCH YOURE SO AMAZING🥰❤️🥰❤️🥰❤️🥰❤️🥰❤️🥰and a big thanks to everyone who like my fic in the short amount of time of me posting before I accidentally deleted it🤦‍♀️🫣🤦‍♀️

Few weeks ago on Dathomir

After Ezra threw you out of the cave the spirit left your body, giving you back control of your limbs.

"Why is it every time we work with Maul, weird force stuff happens and I'm always hurt trying to save you?" You said with a small smile while trying to rub away your migraine.

"Wait you're hurt? Where?" Ezra responded reaching towards you looking for any injuries.

“I'm hurt mentally, these experiences take a toll on a person you know." You smirked and Ezra rolled his eyes at your teasing.

"I thought you were injured."

"I do have a heck of a headache if that makes you feel any better." You said as you stood up.

"No, you stay here. I'm going to go get Sabine and Kanan."

"Then I want to help."

"They'll just posses you again."

"And what about you?"

"I have a plan."

"Great, then I can help with that. I'll take Sabine and you can take Kanan." You said walking back into the cave.

Ezra sighed at your stubbornness and followed you in.

"You know you're pretty stubborn." Ezra says.

"I've been told that before."

Sensing something behind you, you quickly ignited your light saber and blocked the one aimed at you. You called out and told Ezra to go help Kanan before focusing back on your best friend.

"Sabine if you can hear me, I'm sorry." You said as you broke the hold of the lightsabers and kicked Sabine in her stomach sending her backwards. Seeing her getting up you pressed on slowly but surely backing Sabine towards the entrance of the cave before a force knocked you over. You opened your eyes to see the spirit that came after you the first time. You quickly dodged it and turned back around towards Sabine and when you did you felt a pair of fingers on your forehead and you hear one word before blacking out.

"Kokipa."

The Next Day

The next thing you knew you were waking up in your bed with Ezra sitting next to you, and it didn't take long to realize the damage that had been done. Once you had woken up completely everything felt quiet. You couldn't feel anything around you. You went to Kanan to ask him about it and he said it could just be fatigue, but you didn't believe it. You have been way more exhausted before and it never affected your powers. It wasn't until a few days later during a mission briefing when you realized your powers were gone. Hera was explaining the mission when you seen one of the cute hermit crab things that were all around chopper base. It was sitting next to your hand on the edge of the holo-table. Smiling softly you reached out to it with the force, well you tried anyway. It was something you would do all the time, but this time you couldn't feel its emotions or its presence. Trying not to panic you looked around trying to connect with any living thing you had seen, but felt nothing. Now it was time to panic. You looked towards Ezra and Kanan. Ezra must've felt your worry and unease because he looked up directly at you seeing your panicked eyes. A few seconds of the two of you staring at each other, he gave you a confused look. That's when you realized he was trying to talk to you through the force link only the two of you shared.

When the two of you met you both instantly created a bond that grew stronger every day. About a month into your friendship you both realized you could use the force to connect your minds and talk to each other telepathically. Kanan explained that it was because of the bond you two share and that it was a rare occurrence and could be dangerous if the two of you weren't careful with your emotions. Over time you both mastered the skill, only this time you couldn't hear Ezra thoughts at all or even feel him through the force. That's when you started to panic. You didn't even hear Hera when she asked if you were ok, or notice Kanan quickly moving to your side while Ezra made his way to the other. All you could hear was your body trying to catch its breath. You couldn't breath, and you could barely hear Ezra trying to walk you through slowing your breathing, but you couldn't. Every thing sounded like it was under water.

Kanan and Ezra walked you to the common room of the Ghost as the others followed, watching worriedly as Ezra was slowly able to calm you down.

"So, you gonna tell us what's going on?" Kanan said.

"Somethings wrong with me." You replied.

"What do you mean?"

"I think I've lost my powers."

Everyone was silent at first, a Jedi losing their connection to the force was so rare it was basically unheard of during the times of old. The only way for a force user to lose their powers was if they stopped using it completely.

"(Y/n), that's not possible."

"Then tell me what it is Kanan! It's not exhaustion, it's something else! It's like everything has gone quiet, if I wasn't looking at all of you right now, I wouldn't even know you were here! Tell me what to do Kanan.”

"I-I haven't seen anything like this before (Y/n). I'm not sure there is anything we can do. Let me think on it, we'll figure it out I promise." You could hear the sadness in Kanan's voice which only worries you more. You said nothing else as you stood up went to your room. You were anxious, angry, sad, and scared.

"What would my contribution to the team be now?" You asked yourself before the sound of the door opening caught your attention. It was Ezra.

"Hey." He said softly.

"Hey."

"How you doin'?" Ezra asked as he sat next to you on your bunk.

"How do you think I'm doing?" The pause that followed was uncomfortable and the guilt you felt caused you to sigh.

"I'm sorry, Ezra. I'm just- I don't know why I’m going to do.”

"Don't worry, we'll figure this out, (N/ n)."

"It's not just that."

"Then what is it?"

"How am I supposed to help the team?"

"What?"

"Without the force, I'm useless to the team."

"That's not true! You are more than just your powers (N/n)."

"Am I? I'm not skilled in mechanics like Sabine, I'm not as good a shot as Zeb, and I definitely don't even come close to flying as good a Hera. You and Kanan, even you guys come up with really good plans when needed. I can't do any of that stuff. I knew how to fight, but now that my powers are gone how am I supposed to do that well." You said looking away from Ezra.

"Woah, woah, woah, let me stop you right there. You are a vital part of this team, this family. And just because you think you don't contribute anything other than your lightsaber doesn't make it true. I can't tell you how many messes you've gotten us out of with your quick thinking, how many problems your creative mind help fix for everybody on this ship, constantly. And you're a fierce warrior with and without your saber."

"Ezra." You sighed.

"You are needed here, and I won't let you think otherwise. And I will repeat myself everyday until you believe it, if I have to." Ezra finished as he softly cups your cheek and turn your head back towards him to look you in the eyes.

"Thanks, Ezra. But-"

"No buts." He said leaning forward pressing a soft kiss on your cheek, then another on your lips. "Now, let's forgive this out. Start from the beginning." And you did. You told him about everything that happened yesterday, and retracing your steps helped you realize the reason your powers are gone. You were still anxious and afraid, but with Ezra there you knew everything was going to turn out fine.

————————————————————

A/N: Finally finished I hope this isn't to cringe or anything. And hopefully this fulfilled your request. Thank you so much for sending in your request, and giving me a chance to bring your idea to life. I will now be heading to bed. Good night, guys.

Edit: But I did discover something from this mistake if you have a iPad and an iPhone you can copy something from said iPad and all you have to do is click ast on your iPhone and it’ll paste whatever it was from your iPad to your phone. I’m late Ik BUT it was such a life saver because I promise if I had to rewrite this whole fic out again without a reference (not that I didn’t enjoy writing it the first time) this fic was going to be my 13th reason. Hope you guys enjoy, toodles👋.

[riddlerosehearts]

i found ur blog recently after becoming incredibly infatuated with twst but specifically idia shroud (my friends said i act like him to an uncanny level and they were absolutely right...) and i love your vilidia posts dearly. ok that's it thank u

OMG that's so awesome, welcome to the twst fandom and congrats on having such fantastic taste in characters and ships lol!! i adore vilidia (obviously, if my whole vilidia tag is any indication) but i haven't posted about them in so long, i hope you don't mind if i use your ask as an excuse to share some silly little headcanons that i don't believe i've posted before:

so i think that when vil was like, 10 or so, his dad tried to encourage his love of potion-making by getting him one of those candy chemistry kits. the ones that come in super cute colorful boxes and teach you how to make things like exploding pop rocks and glow-in-the-dark gummies while explaining the science behind it. (here's a picture of basically the exact thing i'm thinking of.) but vil, poor sweet little vil who'd already let the brutality of the entertainment industry make him believe that he needed to be absolutely perfect, just rolled his eyes and said he was too old for that stuff and that all of that candy wouldn't be good for him anyway. he never once touched the kit, even though part of him probably did really want to.

and i also think that at some point, after he and idia had started dating, idia bought one of those same kits online and just barely mustered up the courage to ask vil if he'd like to join him and ortho in making some of the candy. he claimed the entire thing was ortho's idea, but vil could tell that idia really wanted them to do this together and he decided it'd be okay to indulge his boyfriend just once. as he actually made the candy he realized that although it obviously didn't teach him a single thing he didn't already know, it was still a lot of fun and he wished he hadn't rejected things like that as a kid.

also, speaking of chemistry, there's a voice line in-game where idia implies that he is not good at it. so while i think he and vil would be fascinated by each other's different fields of scientific interest and would love talking about it together i also think that one day idia just very overdramatically goes like: "omg i'm doing soooooo bad in my chemistry classes... if only some super smart and kind and very attractive person would help me out..."

and vil responds by telling idia that he most certainly does not share his younger brother's talent as an actor. but he agrees to help anyway and then they have cute study dates.

idia's habit of starting to excitedly infodump about his interests only to suddenly get embarrassed and stop persists for a while into his relationship with vil but every single time it happens, vil encourages idia to keep going. he often says things like "oh, are you done already? that's a shame, i was so looking forward to hearing more about sora's journey to save kairi". it takes a long time but eventually idia gets to a point where he's so comfortable around vil that he doesn't feel embarrassed anymore.

[i4bellingham]

Love your writing! Could you do one where you’re friends with Trent and he has a crush on you but you don’t know since he keeps things close to the chest. And it’s not an issue until you meet Jude and the two of you click and start dating that he voices his feelings to you. You want to stay w Jude but Trent can’t bare being just friends and seeing you fall in love w someone else.

THE CHOICE : bsf!trent alexander-arnold x fem!reader x mentioned bf!jude bellingham

all of the gifs in my posts are from my keyboard. they aren't mine but i also have no clue who their owners are but all credits goes to them for creating such beautiful gifs <33 thank you so much <333

cw: unresolved issues, trent and reader low-key being redflags 🚩🚩🚩, cussing, mentions of making out, honestly jude deserves better in this fic why’d i write it like this 😭 + not proofread

i added a twist of mine on this one, hope that's alright 👀 how i managed to finish this in a day is beyond me. i normally take 2-3 days to finish a fic but here i am finishing a trent fic in a day 😨

Admitting that you loved someone was hard.

Admitting that you love someone who already loves someone else is harder.

Trent was very well-aware that his fondness of you grew past the stages of ‘like’. It was something that he had to come into terms with just recently seeing you wrapped around someone else’s arms.

Before anything, you were a good friend of Trent’s. You would always show up to his games wearing his jersey, you always opened up your time and attention to him when he’s feeling under the weather or when they lost a game. You were always there for him, through his good times and even at his worst. You were there, hugging him close to you when the hateful comments got too much and inside his head, clouding his mind with doubt and insecurity as he recalls them over and over in his memory. You always liked to remind him of what he’s achieved at a young age, reiterate every single thing that he’s won at football and praise him for being so strong for facing each of his days with a raised head despite the comments, until he’s there in your arms with tears fogging his sight.

You were so good to him, so good for someone with the likes of him that him falling for you wasn’t even out of the picture anymore.

But Trent stopped himself from confessing, thinking that whatever friendship he got with you was too good for him to lose. So he never did, never once gave any inclinations of his feelings for you until it grew and blossomed into what it’s now known as love.

There wasn’t really any worries on his part, because although you've gone to a few dates (none of which really succeeded), there wasn’t really anyone who had the pleasure of being called your boyfriend.

Not until him.

Not until Jude Bellingham came into the picture and shattered whatever complacent Trent found in your relationship.

It was supposed to be you and him and although merely as friends, Trent wanted nothing more for it to be just you and him for a very long time.

But really, he’s the partial reason why you started dating Jude in the very first place regardless if he likes the profound relationship between you and his best mate anyways.

He did introduce the two of you to each other at his own birthday party because while he tried to distract himself with the multiple girls that surrounded him that night from how beautiful and breathtaking you looked in your dress, he had given Jude the perfect open opportunity to get to know you better. And before he even knows it, Trent’s greatest fear had come into life.

Eight months after his birthday party, you began dating Jude leaving him with nothing but the scarce presence of you in his life.

Not until one day when you reached out and asked him to hang out that Trent came into the conclusion that he would rather get the things off in his chest now no matter the cost than never doing it and dwelling on the what should have been. He knows it’s not fair to you nor to Jude but he’d really wanted to do this now in hopes that it would give him the peace that he needs with the feelings he holds for you.

Trent wasn’t expecting much from you if he did confess, but it was still safe to say that he was hoping for at least a little bit that in someway, you reciprocated his feelings too no matter how slim they may be now.

Trent hugs you a little longer than he should have when he finds you in his door step, clad in a familiar hoodie that also had the lingering scent of its owner when he pulls away from you before ushering you inside his house.

“Feels like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

You really haven’t, is what response crossed Trent’s mind as the both of you sat on his couch with an arms length of space dividing you both that wasn’t normally there before you started dating Jude. But instead of voicing it out, Trent reaches a hand out to ruffle your hair.

“You’ve been rather occupied with your new relationship, don’t want to interfere in young love.” He ends his reply with a teasing smile.

You face him, adjusting on his couch with your legs crossed above the cushions. “So... how have you been?”

Miserable?

Missing you?

Regretting lots of stuff?

What should have been a proper answer to such a basic question was drowned out by Trent's thoughts in the situation he tried to move past. It was all about his regrets of not confessing and owning up to his feelings earlier. It was all about the what-ifs inside his head that ran rampant just like his thoughts of you.

“Okay...”

“Just okay?” You teased, chuckling when Trent rolls his eyes. “What? No new flings Mr. Alexander-Arnold?”

Trent’s demeanor immediately shifts into a tensed one, and as if sensing his discomfort for the topic you reel your question back with another remark.

“Now don't be so uptight with me T, you know I don't judge you for that.”

Of course you haven't. You don’t judge him in anything he does. You hold him at such a high regard to trust him fully that he doesn't do anything stupid, one that could potentially dwindle your trust on him.

Those flings haven’t come by for more than a few months now, only seeking out the presence of other girls to satiate his needs with the courage he's gotten from the alcohol, but even those instances became sparse ever since he owned up to how he really felt about you.

“I know, you love me too much to judge me for every shit that I do.” Trent insinuates.

You unknowingly nod your head. “Of course I do. You have been such a good friend to me T, of course I love you-”

“Just as friends?”

You snap your head to his direction, shock on your face before you're letting out forced and nervous chuckles.

“Of course Trent, you're my friend aren’t you?”

There is a feint hints of smirk on his lips. Trent nods his head spuriously to appease you, but the next words to come out of his lips did anything but to ease you down.

“I see you're still a horrible liar.”

You look at him confused.

“You don’t call me Trent unless you're hiding something from me pretty baby...” Trent inches closer to you, grabbing your hand in his to which you didn't take backㅡnot immediately anyways, no.

You seemed to have been stunned to hear the nickname he used to call you before you were dating Jude tumble out of his lips.

Frozen next to him and shocked, you only managed to shake yourself back to reality with the thought of your current boyfriend passing by your mind.

You take your hand back immediately, scooting a little further away from Trent.

“Trent-” You warn him, not wanting to hear the next words leave his lips.

“What? Really? You thought I would believe that you only ever loved me as a ‘friend’ ?” He asks you almost mockingly. “Friends don’t kiss each other baby. Friends don’t make out a plenty of times-”

“We were both drunk that time Trent!”

“The first time it happened we were! But what about the other times that it happened Y/N?”

You stand up from the couch. “I don’t know why you’re bringing this up now Trent! It had been a year and a half since it happened!” You started to head to door, planning on leaving the entire conversation and Trent behind when his hand reaches out to grasp at your arm, pulling your back against his chest.

“Don’t lie Y/N. You know me better than anyone, and I know you better than everyone else.” He wraps his arms around your waist, slotting his forehead against the plane of your shoulder. “You didn’t see me just as your friend-”

You struggled against his hold, mind reminding you of your boyfriend and how wrong and unfair this is to him.

“Yes Trent! I did see you more than just my friend! Is that what you want to hear from me!?”

Yes, you two did kiss during that one damned night during New Year’s eve drunk and out of your wits and the situation went completely out of control when the two of you found yourselves in the back of his car, lips slotted perfectly against each other as you spent the New Year countdown in each other’s arm and tongues down each other’s throat.

After that, the tension just grew more to which the both of you tried to ignore at first but to no avail. It just turned palpable that even some of your mutual friends began to suspect a thing when you’d hang out with them. It was so apparent that something went down between you and Trent but you've never had the guts to openly admit that.

It was one random night when the both of you finally broke that tension out into the open air, nearly ridding each other of clothes in a messy lip-lock and hands on opposite bodies that didn’t stay at one spot for more than a second.

Instances like that happened for a few more times before Trent himself ultimately ended what he himself started.

His birthday party was the perfect gateway that able you to meet Jude, eyes and attention on him instead of Trent and the multiple girls on his arms as he openly flirted with them.

You remember trying to keep your tears from falling, tried so hard to tune down the disappointment, hurt and sadness that you felt in that moment.

But Jude was there. Jude was there to distract you with his lame jokes and made you play boardgames with him in Trent’s guest room that you used to occupy sometimes when staying at his house.

Both of you left the party a little past 12 am back then, giggling and shoving each other past the number of guests in Trent’s house before driving over to a local fast food chain. There were still loitering thoughts of Trent here and there during that night but somehow, Jude managed to divert your pain into a copious sound of laughter from his foolish punch lines.

If he knew what you felt for Trent back then, he made no comments about it. But he stayed with you and a few more times after that night meanwhile, you chose to ignore what you witnessed Trent doing that night.

Even though you only made-out a lot of times in an unlabeled relationship that went past beyond just being friends at that point, it still hurt to think that Trent did that in front of you. It still hurt that he didn't seemed to care that you were watching them moreover when he was openly kissing a girl on his lap in front of everybody before you and Jude left the house to drive around the city for food.

It just went like that.

Everything went unresolved and although you began to reconnect three months after that, everything was just not the same.

The both of you tried so hardㅡor you did at least to keep those memories and feelings buried deep down your mind because you have someone better now. Someone who provided so much of his attention, care and adoration for you. Someone you know would never ever think let out alone act on hurting you.

Jude was perfect in so many ways, and he was so good to you but you don’t want to let him go. Not even for the sake of Trent’s realizations.

Trent’s grip around your waist loosens, and from there he can hear your sniffs before he’s turning you around, lips on your forehead and hands on your arms.

“But you broke what we had Trent... and Jude was there to pick up the mess you made...” You murmur, letting the tears to freely cascade down your cheeks. “After your birthday party all I heard from your teammates was you seeing different girls each week Trent... how do you think I’d feel from that?”

“But you didn't reach out to me-”

“You fucking hurt me when you talked to those girls all night long and completely ignored me! You even had your tongue down some girl’s throat on the couch when Jude and I left and you expect me to reach out to you?” Pushing him off you, you pointed a finger against his chest. “Don’t put the blame on me for something that is completely on you Trent. I waited for you to explain yourself even though you really didn't have to... what we had was just like what you have with the other girls isn’t it? A friend with benefits type of th-”

This seems to trigger something in Trent because his pulling you by the arms and slotting his lips against yours just like how he did long ago.

Stunned, you were too dumbfounded to push Trent away. The realization only hits you like a truck when he pulls away and places his forehead against yours, whispering the words that you refused to hear until now.

“Don’t.” Trent caresses your cheeks in gentle motions of his fingers, cupping your face against the warmth of his palm. “Don’t ever fucking compare what you and I had to my stupid rendezvous. I was a coward. I didn’t admit that I love you, not even to my self until a few months ago. I didn’t want to lose you Y/N... I was so afraid to lose you that I'd rather lose my chances of being someone more than a friend to you than lose you in my life entirely if you didn't reciprocated my feelings and felt uncomfortable to be my friend again to stay.

I know I had such a douche way of showing that I didn't want you gone from my life and I admit that, I know that. I want to apologize to you in every waking day but I was way in my head to even recognize the selfishness that I did. And before I knew it, you had broken the news to me that you were seeing Jude and we pretended that those times didn't happen and I was okay with it. I was okay with it because at least you were talking to me again. I was okay with pretending that I was supportive of your relationship when all I ever wanted was what Jude have now because at least you acknowledged me again as someone in your life...”

Trent sighs, cursing underneath his breath before closing his eyes to keep his tears from falling. “I was so okay with you being with him because at least I got to see you again... I was so fucking okay with every minimal gesture from you because at least you were back in my life. I was ready to take everything you gave me baby, no matter how foolish and insignificant they may be... I’d take them all because they're from you...

I love you Y/N, and I don’t fucking care if you're with Jude. I’ll fight for your affection if I have to, if I get you by the end of it... it’s all gonna be worth it.”

With the tears freely rolling down both of your cheeks and like a twisted sense of irony, the phone in your pocket rings. You fish it out to see the contact name and face of the very person who had given you his everything ever since you became his girlfriend officially; the guy who tampered your broken pieces to keep you whole and kept you safe and loved.

　

　　　　　　　Incoming call...

　　　　　　　　　jude 🖤

a/n: i know this is a piece of information you lot already know but marcus rashford is so fucking fine like i would literally breathe dust if he ever do as much as look in my way-

read part two here !!

[captainnameless]

Charles has had the worst triple header I feel so bad for him :( Disqualified in COTA, booed in Mexico and a DNS in Brazil.

Poor boy just needs a hug and maybe one of Sebastian’s hoodies to wear. I feel like Lewis would get a call from a very distressed, tearful lil baby and be at his drivers room in 3 seconds flat, desperate to help him stop hurting.

Of course no pressure if you don’t feel like writing this. Also your minifics literally make my day <3

baby has just had a stinker of a season really, i saw a post where it explained all 17 races so far and i’m pretty sure Charles has had only 4 “clean” ones where nothing (bad) happened that was out of his control.

also i feel like shit so maybe writing baby charles feeling like shit will lessen my own achy chest.

Charles had dealt with it all so well, the heart break of another failure that wasn’t his, facing media and sports journalist and fans. They’d spoken briefly after Lewis had gotten out of the car, between his own interviews and Charles seemed okay; promised he was. Albeit tired.

When Charles’ name flashes onto his screen Lewis barely takes two seconds to answer, takes even less time to get up and out of his own hotel room when he hears how distressed Charles is.

Lewis sighs as he jogs through the halls of the hotel, trying to figure out where Charles’ room is, a small voice in the back of his mind telling him this is his fault. That he shouldn’t have let Charles leave alone but self reproach isn’t going to help the younger.

He still has Charles pressed to his ear on the phone, but they aren’t speaking, Charles is crying too much to be coherent anyway and Lewis’ heart sort of shatters when the sound of Charles’ cries is accompanied by a visual when he steps into Charles’ room.

“Oh, darling..” Lewis breathes, ending the call and locking the door behind him, kneeling down to join Charles on the floor and pull him into his lap.

Charles just sobs, embodying a wet noodle while Lewis manhandles him into his lap.

“You’re okay,” Lewis tries to soothe, holding Charles close. “You’re alright, breathe with me.”

Charles doesn’t seem interested in breathing, his eyes screwed shut while he hiccoughs into Lewis’ chest, hands clutching at the sweater Lewis is wearing.

Lewis frowns, he’s never seen Charles this upset and it’s a little unnerving. That same voice telling him he’s not good enough to be taking care of this. Lewis pushes it away.

“Charles, poppet.. Hey.” Lewis tries again, squeezing Charles tight and pressing their faces close together. “I’m right here, you’re safe, you’re okay. Breathe.”

Charles does lean into the touch, the grip of Lewis’ sweater loosening with every gasp-y breath he takes with Lewis, body slowly relaxing against Lewis’ chest, shaking stopping.

“Daddy!” Charles cries once he catches his breath, more tears leaking from his eyes.

“Shh.” Lewis soothes, brushing Charles’ tears away. “We’re gonna call Daddy in a second okay, see if he’s awake. Gotta calm down a little more for me okay?” Lewis hopes Sebastian is still awake, their time zone only 4 hours behind so he’s liking their odds.

There’s a soft whine that leaves Charles but no real protest as he stuffs two fingers into his mouth, trying to lessen his tears.

“Good boy,” Lewis whispers, still softly brushing the tears off of Charles’ cheeks and pressing soft kisses to his forehead until the tears have stopped leaking from his eyes.

Charles flushes under the praise, noticeable even with how red he already is from crying and buries his face into Lewis’ chest. “Daddy?” He asks again, this time muffled.

Lewis shifts to get his phone out, pressing the favorites tab before tapping Sebastian’s name. It goes to voicemail the first time and Lewis panics only a little but Sebastian answers on the second call.

Sebastian doesn’t even speak before his face contorts with hurt as their picture fills the screen, eyeing up a distraught Charles.

“Charlie, no, what’s wrong?” Sebastian asks, Lewis can tell he’s leaving whatever room he’s in, moving somewhere more quiet.

“Daddy.” Charles just says, voice miserable and mumbled around his fingers, still pressed against Lewis’ chest.

“Daddy’s here, on the phone. I’m sorry I can’t be with you, sweetheart.” Sebastian looks miserable saying, probably wishing for a teleportation device. “But you’ve got Uncle Lew, huh?”

Charles nods and Lewis holds Charles a little closer, pressing another kiss to his head. “I’m so glad you called.”

“You called?” Sebastian asks, full of praise. “Good job!”

They both know Charles has struggled asking for help with Sebastian off the grid, so Sebastian makes sure to praise him for it every time.

They sit and talk for a bit, up until Charles’ eyes start drooping, exhausted from the emotions and the tears.

“Bedtime,” Sebastian declares through the phone, and there’s an immediate pout on Charles’ lips. “Did you have a shower yet?”

A small smile plays on Lewis’ features, amused at the pout. He knows Charles hasn’t showered yet, still in his track clothes.

“Not yet,” the younger answers.

“So shower, then bed. You need the rest, sweetheart. We can call again tomorrow, I promise.” Sebastian says.

“No.” Charles whines, taking the phone out of Lewis’ hands to hold it closer.

“I’ll stay with you, huh?” Lewis adds, knowing he cannot replace Sebastian, but he knows Charles doesn’t not like the substitute.

“Sounds good,” Sebastian answers for him and so Charles nods. They end the call after an almost tearful goodbye that Lewis manages to control, helps Charles into the shower before rummaging through his suitcase to get him something comfortable.

All soft and warm out of the shower Charles basically falls asleep the second Lewis pulls him into his chest, blanket covering them both.

Lewis presses one less kiss to Charles’ damp hair before closing his own eyes.

[c0smiccom3t]

Dimension Dyfenders Update!! (9/20/23)

HEY, HEY, it's September! You know what that means! (read the above)

Hello D.D fandom, hello followers, mutuals, friends and hello people who curiously stumbled upon this post. You all know who i am, but for those who don't, let me introduce myself. My name's Comet. I'm the co-creator and main artist in the indie webcomic series Dimension Dyfenders! As of right now, i'm attending art school and trying my best to work more on the webcomic while also attending on my studies and get better grades. Now, you might ask, "Comet, what's going on with this series now?", "Why haven't been there more pocket adventures minisode 1 parts lately?" Well, i got the answers right here! First of all, let's start with the most obvious one... The Pocket Adventures situation.

Now, Pocket Adventures hasnt been online as of late, no next parts were being published, and im very sorry for that. The cause for it is the loss of motivation i had, which made me not work on it for a long while. Even when making new panels i feel extremely tired. Feeling like i should do something else (heck, i feel insecure about its panels when i draw them!) But fret not, that doesn't mean Pocket Adventures is getting cancelled. We still have loads of plans on the table and we can't wait to roll them out. But for now, we're taking a break due to IRL situations for example, art school. We, the team, have lives outside of making d.d content. We need to get our degrees and, well, try to survive life. But no worries, because I got plans to get back on D.D P.A Minisode 1 and finish it completely once winter break hits. As long as my motivation gets out of its hibernation phase. But still, i can't wait for you all to see the conclusion to minisode 1. (I just hope you dont mind if i jump right into the 'new designs' in the next pages)

Speaking of minisodes, I've been thinking of releasing minisodes only once a year than every saturday. Though this decision is not final yet. I don't want clout, in fact, i just wanna do what I love. Create stories and comics for everybody to enjoy. But if you guys would love for a minisode to release once a year or once in 3 months, let me know your opinions! Your criticism helps this series, especially its production, grow better!

Now, for the second and final question you may have asked… Thing is, Nothing has changed! But well, if you know me on my social media for my recent Crash Bandicoot fanart, then you might notice that Crash 4: It's About Time, especially it's artbook (and concept art by Nicola Saviori)... Has affected my artstyle, DRASTICALLY. So. The characters, of course, have went through some changes. I'd like to call this new artstyle... "The TFB Effect". As a matter of fact, Dimension Dyfenders (both its miniseries and full series) is going to have a brand new, more cartoony, zanier than ever artstyle! Don't believe me? See for yourselves. Starting with the main ones!

I decided to add a little bit of the good ol' Squash and Stretch to the characters to make them stand out more in the next comics. So of course, some of the colors have changed, especially designs and bodytypes. Oh, and not just that, our heroes have some new stuff, too! For example: Knockout's Dyfender Element is now refered as "Quantum Strenght", Paintdrop's is called "Cosmic Creativity" and Speedrunner's is called "Light Speed". Neat upgrades, eh? (Still, criticism is accepted.) Anyway, notice that in the first picture above there's something that says: "Dyfender Mode", right? Well, if you see that, that's because we are introducing something brand new to our heroes. Called: Omni-modes.

Now, "what are Omni-modes?", you may ask? Well, Omni-modes are modes that are set on the Dyfenders' Dy-watches, you may see that the Omni-Modes are, of course, the Dyfenders' alternate hero forms, to help them take on a mission in a different, more suitable form. When the day needs to be saved during night time (and rarely past bedtime), they activate Night Mode. For sunny beach days but still wanting to make sure nobody figures out their secret identities, Acqua Mode will be at their service. There are tons of different Omni-Modes to be shown (Especially, Pride mode, which was shown on this year's pride post.) So, yeah. Omni-modes will be shown in both the miniseries AND the full series!

Oh! And refering to characters, we can't forget about our main bad guys! Oh, you know, the Dajo-Crew? They got a bit of a make over to fit to the current artstyle! (ft. the updated height chart):

Now that we got that out of the way. let's just head over what will the future of the series look like as of right now. Starting off with the full series and pocket adventures. As said before, Dimension Dyfenders' artstyle changed. But that doesn't mean everything changed, things may be different (the more cartoony artstyle and the sillier tone), but nothing about the series has changed! And that means..

MORE POCKET ADVENTURES IS HAPPENING, THAT'S RIGHT! MORE D.D CONTENT COMING THIS WAY!

As for right now, D.D Minisode 1 may still be in development as we speak, but one thing that's completed right now is the script! Now that its finally finished, all thats left, is the panel and comic page-making (hopefully you wont mind the sudden character design changes, though.)! But in the meantime! We got some sneak peaks for not just one of the panels from the next minisode 1 pages, but also a never-seen before panel from the next minisodes of pocket adventures! (notice: some of these are not final and may change in the final product.)

That's not all! this franchise has got some new stuff coming in during it's run. We got so many plans, but this is the only thing we can show about said plans:

As you can see, you're gonna see some new characters in pocket adventures. While in the full series, you'll get some new characters too. Except... New baddies will be only in the full series, while in the miniseries then later in the animated series... You'll get to meet some new allies! So, keep your eyes peeled for them! And we hope you like them as much as we do.

Now, D.D has never shown a sign of stopping, even during hiatuses, so im happy to announce that more Pocket Adventures will be on their way after Minisode 1 has completed production! We're thinking of putting the upload dates on hold (which means, minisode 2 is delayed until further notice, sorry guys.). So please be patient when waiting for new minisodes.

And speaking of patience... I think I got a little something to keep you guys busy with while you wait... Introducing…

DIMENSION DYFENDERS TOONIES!

Now, you may be wondering: "What is THIS?" D.D.T (Dimension Dyfenders Toonies for long), is a brand new miniseries of comic strips that comes out during the weekends. (Starting in October, the end of september, or during the holiday season! No promises, though.) It's a little something i can make up while you guys wait for the next Pocket Adventures Minisodes. Oh yeah, here's one of the cover for it, too! It's not much, but i know you guys would go NUTS for it:

This will be about how the Dyfenders handle their superhero and school lives in everyday situations. (No worries, the action isn't gone. There might be some strips about school, but there will be more strips about their superhero lives, guarantee!). It's also about what The Dajo-Crew does when they aren't invading dimensions, get into some shenanigans at the castle and also when they plot evil schemes. some strips will be either original with a new short story or a recreation of old strips from phase 1 (not a final decision of course, but you can tell us if you like this idea)! One thing to point out is that some of the strips might take place before some minisodes, now thats another thing to notice, right? And that's the only "spoiler" I can give. So, sorry, no more! OH! And for any of you voice actors reading this who are like: "Wow, i wonder when this series will get a comic dub / animated series. If i'm lucky enough i might be able to voice act for it!" … Boy, do we have a treat for you all. Which will be posted in a few hours. both on bird app, bluesky, insta and on here!  The only thing I have to announce is that during the d.d stuff's production and during art school, i'm not gonna be online on social media. (until during normal/long weekends and festive days.), but no worries, the series is still alive and kicking, even when there aren't posts about it for a few months! Though, in some days, i'll be able to make and share some art for it! You're all in for a wild ride for these months and for 2024! Oh, and about Dajo's account. I'm planning to bring it back. But, Dajo is currently busy conquering Dimensions, but I can assure he hasn't abandoned Sinstagram completely. You'll see more of his influencer side, too. Both in his Sinstagram and in the upcoming strips! (And perhaps in some mini– OOPS! TOO MUCH!) That's all for now! Thank you all for your support on the series, don't forget to share your fan creations of the series in DMs or tag me and the team in your masterpieces, share it with your family and friends, subscribe to the series on Comicfury, and follow me on Tumblr, bluesky, bird app and Instagram if you wish to support the project even outside of comicfury! Once again, thank you all in this slowly-growing small fandom for all of your support, and i hope you're all excited for what's to come! If you have any questions, please drop them on my tumblr askbox, Which i'll be able to answer during the weekends. That's all, back to the offline study and sleep abyss for me. GOODBYE!

[baby-girl-e]

Out Of The Woods

Characters - Iceman x Maverick

Summary - Maverick gets in an accident and Ice is there for him despite their latest fight. 

Word Count - 2.2k

Warnings - Angst, Hospitals, Motorcycle crash, injuries

A/N - This is my first fic of the year! Woo! I know I haven’t posted a work in a while, but it’s because I’ve been writing my debut Non-fiction book! I have to get a certain amount done to send to my review team by the 20th of this month so I’ve been hyper-focused on that! I promise you guys are going to want to read it (Even if I can’t talk about it yet, but I will hint that a certain actor we all love is at the center of it) Anyways, thank you for your patience and I really hope you like this one!! As always, this is based on a Taylor Swift song, particularly Out Of the Woods!

Ice was trying his best to avoid Pete at work. He really was. But when you’re co-instructors with someone and their damned wingman it’s hard. They had a fight a week back about something Ice can’t even remember but what turned into fucking Maverick thinking he didn’t deserve Ice. What Pete Mitchell deserved was sure as hell not up to him. He was saying some shit about “I’m setting you free.” and Ice was offended that he’d have the audacity to decide that for him. He loved Pete Mitchell for better or for worse and Pete Mitchell could do jack shit  about it. 

He avoided him for the week, just to get a piece of mind, but realized that it was exactly what Pete wanted. Pete wanted to mope around all sad and self deprecating. So Ice had every intention of only keeping it this way for a week and then forcing his way back in.

 He sat in his apartment for the first time in a few months, and couldn’t help but pull out the polaroid he kept in his nightstand. He knew it was risky to have literal incriminating evidence, but he allowed himself this. It was them sitting on Pete’s couch and Pete had insisted they take this picture, Pete holding the camera and then at the last second he turned his head to kiss Tom’s cheek. The photo perfectly captured Ice’s feelings for the man, his face lighting up and his smile wide, like the rest of the world was in black and white but they were in screaming color. 

Ice sighed as he put the picture down to mess with the necklace Pete had given him. It was a simple jet charm on a chain much like their dog tags, nothing special, but Pete later explained that it had once been a gift from Goose. He had immediately tried to give it back but Mav insisted, stating that he had plenty of Goose's things and he wanted Tom to have something he valued to show him how much he loved him. Tom cried that night when he was sure that Pete had fallen asleep. 

The night he gave Tom that necklace was one he wouldn’t soon forget. It was the night Pete had it in his head that they needed to dance to his old records but since space was limited it was obvious they had to move Pete’s couch. Obviously. As they danced to some Nat King Cole song Tom remembered wishing this was how it could always be. That one day they’d be dancing like this at their wedding. He knew they didn’t stand a chance, but he really wanted to believe it then. They loved flying as much as they loved each other and they’d never ask the other one to give that up. 

As he sat there, thinking about all of the best times he had with Pete, every kiss and touch that made what they were risking oh-so worth it, he realized that he needed Pete to breathe. To live. Just as he was about to get up to go grab his keys and head over to his boyfriends house, his phone started ringing from the kitchen. Had Pete physically known that he was about to go see him?

“Kazansky speaking.” He didn’t want to risk it if it were a work call. 

“Yes, am I speaking to Lieutenant Commander Thomas Kazansky?” That sounded too official. Too clipped. 

“Yes? Who is this?” 

“I’m calling on behalf of a Lieutenant Commander Pete Mitchell, it’s listed here that you’re his emergency contact?”

No. No this can’t be happening.

“Yes, is he okay? Was he hurt?” It was like 2100. What could he do at this hour to hurt himself? 

“Mr. Mitchell was in a motorbike accident and sustained some injuries, I can’t say much over the phone but he is stable. Would you be able to come to the hospital within the next couple of hours?” 

“I’m on my way, is he at the Naval Hospital at Miramar?” 

“Yes sir.” 

Tom hung up the phone and really sprinted for his keys. His hands were shaking uncontrollably and he wasn’t entirely sure he should drive. He considered calling Slider for a moment but then realized he was on leave and visiting family in Florida.

He tried his luck at driving the fifteen minutes to the base hospital and actually made it there in one piece. Storming into that hospital he must’ve looked like quite the sight, sweatpants, old Navy tee that was definitely Pete’s as it barely fit him, and sneakers with what he was sure were mixed matched socks. He had been running his fingers through his hair on the way there and he knew his hair was at an ultimate spike. 

“I- Uh, I’m looking for Pete Mitchell?” He was hoping he sounded at at least a little put together even if he was out of breath. 

“Your name and relation to the patient?” That one stung. All he wanted to say was boyfriend, Lover, Future Husband if he’ll have him, but he couldn’t say any of that. 

“Thomas Kazansky? I’m his wingman and emergency contact.” Wingman was as close as he could get to what they really were and it was socially acceptable, especially here at a Naval hospital. The bond between pilots was a deep one, running into the Naval hospital obviously upset and disheveled over a hurt wingman wasn’t unusual or suspicious. 

“Right this way sir, he’s been moved to a real room and it’s just him. Quiet night.” The nurse realizes what she said as the other nurses around her groaned. The word quiet in a hospital or any medical facility was a dirty one for sure. 

“Don’t worry I’ve been told I have good luck, maybe I’ll counteract your slip up.” The nurse seemed new and he didn’t want her to feel bad. 

“Yeah? Well thank you.” they had arrived at Pete's room and she took her leave. In reality at this moment he felt like he had the worst luck. His boyfriend was in the hospital and he had just spent the last week avoiding him like an idiot. 

Turning the handle he braved his way into the room, mentally preparing himself for what he might see. In hindsight he should’ve known that whatever it was would make him cry. Pete in any state of hurt made his heart fall. 

Pete was sitting up in bed, bandages around his bare torso, bruises on his shoulder and chest. He had road burn up his left side and a little on his face. He was still wearing his pants so that was a good sign that the leather heavy duty ones Tom had got him for his birthday had been worth the price. 

The door clicked shut and Pete looked up to see Tom with his hand over his mouth and tears in his eyes. 

“Baby.” his voice had never sounded so small in his life but he couldn’t help himself. It was like he was seeing Pete after Goose all over again. 

“Tom, I’m so sorry I-” Pete’s tears were actively falling now and he held his uninjured arm out towards his boyfriend. 

Tom was at his side in a second and gently set his hand over Pete’s. His other hand came up to wipe his love's tears as his own were falling. 

“No, no apologies. I’m just glad you’re okay. What- Pete baby what happened?” Pete had leaned into Tom’s touch, taking in the small comfort. 

“I was just riding around to clear my head and this guy came out of nowhere and I tried to swerve to miss him and hit my brakes too soon. Threw me a couple of feet.” The fact that this was the best case scenario freaked Tom out even more. 

“Pete, how are you not more hurt? That sounds terrible.” Maverick looked down again, uncharacteristically shy. 

“I don’t want to say.” Tom raised his eyebrow at that. 

“Oh? And why the hell not?” Seriously with this guy. Why did Tom love him again? 

“You’re going to get a big head about it and I love you but it’s big enough babe.” Oh, that’s right. That’s why. 

Tom gave him an amused but unimpressed look. 

“Fine, I was wearing the helmet you got me, okay? Happy?” He had bought Pete that helmet with the pants wanting to give him something for safety under the guise of ‘babe I think you’d look sexy in these.’ He even had the helmet painted exactly like the one he wore flying. 

“That you’re alive and your head is in one piece? Yes I am. I’ll save the gloating for when you heal more I promise.” Pete cracked a laugh at that. 

“Well there are twenty stitches so it’ll be a while.” Tom was okay with that. He would wait forever. 

Pete sat back slightly from Tom and looked uneasy. “Listen Tom, about what I said… I don’t really want you to leave. I don’t know why I said that.” 

Tom sighed and clicked his tongue, gently brushing hair away from Pete’s eye’s. 

“Because you were scared. I am too. What we’re doing here is dangerous, and we could lose the one thing besides each other that we really care about. What I didn’t like was that you think you don’t deserve me. Pete, I don’t know why you think you’re this terrible messed up person, but baby… you are worthy of love and respect and I sure as hell want to be the one to give it to you.” 

He knew he was rambling, but he also knew Pete’s attention span was extremely limited and he needed him to hear him. 

“Tom, I- I’ve been damaged goods for as long as I can remember. I was when I was in foster care, and that’s what Charlie said after what happened with Goose… It’s hard not to believe them.” Tom pulled Pete into a loose hug wary of his injuries but wanting to get his point across. 

“I want you to hear me now Pete. You are not damaged goods. You are the love of my goddamn life and I wouldn’t have you another way. What they said to you was false and plain terrible. Do you know how strong you have to be to lose your parents at a young age and then your best friend and brother and not turn into a raging douchebag?” Pete made a noise of argument but didn’t say anything. 

Tom pulled Pete to face him and held his face in his hands. “You are everything to me and I feel so lucky to be able to even be near you let alone have you love me. And if you’ll have me I’d like to be near you for the rest of my life.” 

Pete’s eyes went wide and those tears were back. 

“Tom, did you just propose to me?” Wait, did he? It sure sounded like he did. 

“Yeah I guess I did. What do you say?” he really didn’t know what he was saying, he really hadn’t planned this.

“Yes. I’m saying yes.” Tom couldn’t resist it any longer and pulled his fiance in for a kiss. It was chaste, because someone could knock and walk in at any given moment, but it was powerful nonetheless. 

“How the fuck are we going to get married Pete?” 

“You’re the one that asked Kazansky, no taking it back now. We’ll figure it out. Do something for us, maybe invite Carole, Bradley, Slider, and Merlin?” How did they start the day avoiding each other but now they’re planning their wedding? 

“Yeah that sounds nice. And who knows, maybe one day we’ll be able to make it legal.” Tom shrugged his shoulders slightly. Crazier shit had happened. 

“I’m not holding my breath Tom. You’re talking about a country that had to vote on whether or not they should consider another race of people actually human. Statistically their decision making on this stuff takes a while.” Pete was very passionate about human rights, it also made him unbelievably angry at times. 

“Well I’ll marry you in my own mind now, and then I’ll wait however long it takes to marry you legally. Either way, you’re going to be my husband.” It was one of the few things he knew for a fact, Pete Mitchell was his forever. 

Pete looked impressed, and teary eyed again. “Pretty determined aren’t you? You must really like me.” 

“Oh baby you have no idea.” 

Eventually Pete is discharged from the hospital and Tom drives him home. The sun is up by then, but they don’t care. Happy to be together and elated at their seemingly brighter future. 

Tom’s in their bedroom when he hears Pete dialing a number on the phone. “Carole? It’s Pete. Listen, you’re going to be really mad at me but then you’re going to be really happy at me.” 

Tom laughed at his words and later could practically hear Carole’s excited screaming followed by Pete’s equally joyed laughter. They spent a good hour discussing plans, and Tom doesn’t care what they are as long as he gets to be there. If he’s being honest? He’s just glad they’re out of the woods. 

[farfromstrange]

Foreigner's God: Chapter 22

Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x OFC

Summary: The only coping mechanisms she knows are self-destructive, and the world is slowly spiraling out of control. Matt offers himself to take the edge off. He is her personal drug, one she doesn't have to feel guilty about taking. In the wake of intimacy, moments of vulnerability are meant to ensue.

Warnings: SMUT, unprotected p in v sex, oral (m and f receiving), mutual masturbation, face-sitting, switch!Matt, praise, pain kink, degradation, (one) face slap™️, angst, hurt/comfort, Matt is a bit sad in this one

Word Count: 12.2k

A/n: Matt Murdock cries before and after sex, but never during sex. During sex, he has a fucking job to do. That’s the mantra I kept telling myself while writing this... ALSO 53 FOLLOWERS WTF?!?!?! THANK YOU GUYS?! This is crazy thank you so much!

Read Chapter 22: mirrorball Here on AO3!

The faceless man bumped his shoulder into hers. She stared after him, but he had no eyes, he was empty, and the people around them were wearing masks that could have easily been found at a Mardi Gras parade. They inched in on her, forcing her into a circle. She couldn’t escape. They were after her. And suddenly, he had a face. The familiar face came straight from the paper file, and it made sense. The familiar voice, the eyes, the lips. The puzzle clicked into place. She caught sight of the finished picture covering the ground like a carpet, though upon further inspection, she found the face once again blurred out. The ground shook, the pieces fell out of place and she stood there, ankle-deep in the shards of her twisted memory.

Eliza woke up in a sweat. Her heart pounded. The wheel in her brain kept on turning at a speed too fast to have been human. The arm he had draped over her frame didn’t move. Matt’s face nuzzled into her neck. His soft snores filled her ears. He was out cold. Other nights, he would have woken up if she had just breathed funnily, but not this time. He made a subconscious noise of disapproval when he lost the comfort and warmth of her body. She tucked the covers under his chin, feeling the goosebumps beginning to form, and she slipped out as quietly as she could. 

She wouldn’t be able to fall asleep again. Her heart kept pounding. She went into the bathroom, splashing her face with cold water, and she hoped it would somehow fix the burning in her chest. It didn’t. She tried coffee, but that also didn’t work, it made the spike in her blood pressure only worse. The last choice was her least favorite - she reached into Matt’s liquor cabinet and pulled out the bottle of Scotch. She poured herself half a glass. The liquor tasted bitter on her lips, burning her tastebuds. It felt so good, too good. She wasn’t supposed to do this. Eliza had great sex with the most handsome man on earth, she wasn’t supposed to crave alcohol after that. Yet, she did, and she went with the harsh voice in her head that wanted more than Scotch but was satisfied with the drunken high anyway. 

She opened the scanned blueprint on her laptop. Legs pulled up to her chest, fuzzy socks on her feet, and the glass of Scotch in her hand - she realized, a glass was stupid, so she picked up the used coffee cup and poured the liquor into it. Coffee Scotch. That was disgusting but got the job done. 

Eliza sat there and analyzed the blueprint, googling building structures in all fifty States. She cross-referenced every little piece of information she could find. The files weren’t of much help and retracing Pfeiffer’s steps led her to a thousand dead ends. She had millions of pictures in her mind, neither connected by the same red thread they had found in the storage unit. All the while the face of her father lay next to her laptop. 

The whole apartment was covered in pictures and post-it notes, her desperate attempts to make sense of the countless possibilities, ideas, and thoughts rushing through her mind like cars on a highway in the middle of the night. The lights blinded her, causing her head to implode. 

The same outline as the old White Room, similar to the architecture of Robert Pfeiffer’s lab, but the blueprint was still unique in itself. Hydra had made progress, great progress even. There was so little yet so much embedded in that blue piece of paper. She hated that she was no further than she had been three hours ago when she started. 

The floorboard creaked. 

“Sweetheart, what are you doing?” Matt stood in the doorway, rubbing his tired eyes with the back of his hand. “It’s, like, four in the morning.”

“Three-forty-eight. And I’m working,” she said, unbothered. 

“Are you drunk?”

“Slightly buzzed.”

He sighed.

“I know what you’re gonna say. Save it. You can go back to sleep. I’ll wake you when I’ve found something.”

Matt lowered himself to the armrest of the couch with a sigh. “Talk to me,” he said. 

“What?”

“Tell me what you‘ve got by now. If you’re gonna do this, at least let us do it together.”

Eliza shook her head. “I can do this alone, thank you.”

“Yeah, but you won’t. You’re not gonna do this alone.”

“I appreciate your enthusiasm, but this is not something you can help with.”

“Why?”

“Because…” she was at a loss for words. There were reasons, had to be, but she couldn’t voice them. 

He cocked an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”

“You weren’t there, Matt. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Well, I’m not going anywhere until you tell me, so you either talk or you don’t, either way, I’m gonna stay right here.” 

She placed her hands down on the blueprint, holding the edges flat against the wooden surface. Her head made a silent motion to come here. 

Matt stood behind her, one hand hovering above her back, the other finding itself guided to the paper. There was no Braille, no ragged edges, just paper. Still, she took the time to move his fingers along with her words, helping him to draw a mental picture. 

“It’s like four boxes placed offset,” she stated. She drew four squares with his index finger, attached by the corners but not on the same level as the other. “No layers, just one ground floor stretching over several buildings laid out like a maze. High walls, broad hallways, no windows with a big area of nothing around the whole construct, most likely protected by some sort of metal cage that functions as security.” At last, she drew an even bigger square around the outlay. At each point of security, she pressed the calloused tip of his finger down.

His breathing came shallow and flat, her proximity clogging his mind. “Why four?” he questioned.

“Medical facilities,” – she guided his hand to the first square – “Dormitories, playgrounds here,” – she moved on to the next – “Teaching grounds right here,” – she landed on the last building – “And personnel only. It’s where the technical stuff happens,” she said. “You start at the medical facility and eventually graduate to building number four. That is if you survive.” His finger traveled the mentioned distance. 

“How do you know?”

“I traveled the same distance once when I was a kid. I don’t remember much, but I’ve seen enough pictures after I got out to have every last room memorized.” 

“And where is it?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

“No coordinates?”

She shook her head. “Only measurements.” 

“Okay,” Matt nodded, “Explain to me what you have so far.”

“Matt, I-“

He grasped her chin between two fingers. “You don’t have to do this alone,” he said. 

“Maybe I want to,” she breathed.

“Do you?” Her heart skipped a beat. “‘Cause I can tell you’re lying to me. I just want to understand why.”

Eliza’s eyes flickered between the picture of her father, Viktor Volkov, Ivan, Robert, the Hydra symbol, and the blueprint. Viktor could be found at the top, but Hydra was the center of it all. Somehow her father played into it, she had dreamt about him, but none of the crumbs made any sense whatsoever, and the clues didn’t connect either. 

“There is no why. I’m not lying to you.” 

“I think you’re wrong.”

“I’m just…”

“Scared?”

She shuddered. Her physical response was his answer, even though she shook her head. 

“You don’t have to be, not with me, you know that.”

She turned out of his grasp, only for him to reach for both of her cheeks next and pull him flush into his chest. 

Eliza choked up. “Matt, please, don’t,” she said. 

“Hey,” he breathed gently, touching his forehead against hers, “If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine. I just want you to be okay, and I can tell that something happened, so I want to help you. Don’t push me away, baby.”

“I can’t…”

“Whatever you need to get the edge off, I’m here. I’ll give it to you, but I’m not gonna watch you hurt yourself.” 

“I just…” she wondered how he knew. It had to have been her heartbeat. She couldn’t bear his touch, so she stepped away, stumbling back into the back of the couch. “I had a dream- I had a dream and it freaked me out.”

“Okay. Do you want to talk about it?”

“No. I don’t even- I don’t remember. I know what I saw but it doesn’t make sense, and all of this doesn’t make any sense either. I thought it would help, but it only makes everything so much worse. I’m so confused, Matt,” Eliza caved into herself. She landed on the floor, knees pulled up to her chest, and the world spun out of control. “My head is spinning and I feel like the whole world is collapsing around me and I just can’t… I can’t stop it. The spiral just keeps going and going and going and-” 

He knelt in front of her, taking her hands in his. 

“No, I’m not… I need to… I can’t do this, Matt. You can’t just touch me like that and think it’s gonna fix anything. It fixes nothing, it just makes everything worse because you confuse me, too.”

“I confuse you?” he asked. 

“Not you! This. You and me. It is so confusing. I thought it’d help me get my mind off of things, but now I can’t stop thinking about us while everything else is turning to shit and I’m starting to wonder, what if we collapse? I can’t control this. I can’t. And I know that if I lose the only thing keeping me sane right now, I’ll die.” 

She didn’t fight when he hugged her. She clung to the back of his shirt like a scared child and he cradled her head like the protector he was. 

Her breath shuddered. “You should go back to bed,” she cried. 

“No.”

“Yes.”

“If you won’t go to bed, I won’t go to bed, that’s the deal. You need me, so I’m not going anywhere.”

“But you need sleep.”

“You need sleep too, and I don’t see you jumping on the mattress anytime soon.” Matt moved her head so he could hold her only a few inches away. She wouldn’t dare to look at him. “I’m here,” he said. “Not going anywhere, you hear me?”

She nodded slowly. 

“Tell you what, I will make us some tea and then we’ll stare at the wall until you know what it is that you want. Okay?”

“Okay,” she whispered. 

“C’mon.” 

He sat her up on the counter, realizing she wasn’t willing to speak yet, but at least she stopped crying. She watched him move carefully, feel the labels on the box where he kept the tea, touching along the marble to find the kettle. He moved so effortlessly yet carefully. His sightless eyes moved all over the place. When he realized she was watching him, he smiled softly. 

“What?” he asked. “You okay?” 

She shrugged, hands rubbing against each other. When did the weather change so drastically? And didn’t he own a heater? It surely felt like he didn’t. 

“You’re just too good to me, is all.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No.” He slipped between her thighs, taking her hands. “Oh, you’re freezing. Here.” He slipped out of his sweater, revealing the white shirt underneath. “Raise your arms.”

She snuggled into the soft fabric, enjoying the way it felt against her skin. The sweater smelled like him. Her hands disappeared in the sleeves. 

“Thanks,” she muttered. 

“Now, do you want honey or sugar?”

“Honey. One tablespoon, and some milk, if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, of course. You don’t have to ask.” He stirred the tea with the ingredients she mentioned, handing the beverage over to her. The mug was warm, helping her freezing hands regain feeling. 

She eyed him. “Aren’t you cold?” 

“No.”

“I don’t know why I asked. You’re a human radiator.”

Matt laughed. “You want me to warm you up?”

“No, your sweater’s fine,” Eliza said. “Thank you.”

“Alright.”

She played with the hem of his sweater absentmindedly as she sipped her tea. He leaned against the counter next to her, his hand scratching her back. He meant it when he said they would stare at the wall until she was ready. The silence was comfortable. 

Her head dropped to his shoulder. Almost on command, he pressed his lips to the crown of her head, rubbing his nose into her hair. 

“Can we move to the couch?” she asked then. “My ass still kind of hurts.”

He choked on his tea. “Yeah, we can do that,” he said. 

The leather felt much better on the bruised skin than the sturdy surface of the kitchen counter. Matt patted his lap. “C’mere.”

She sighed and laid down, head in his lap and arms crossed to keep the warm inside of the sweater pressed to her cold skin. He tangled a hand in her hair, stroking her like a little cat. She resembled one, purring contently as he moved his fingers along her scalp. 

Eliza watched him. It was creepy, she had to admit, but the man was mesmerizing. When the world went quiet and he was lying there, relaxed with a steady heartbeat and breathing pattern. She ran a hand through his messy brown hair, over his face, and back down over his neck. 

“I can feel you staring, you know,” he said. 

She traced a finger over his eyebrow. “Really, what’s it like?” she said. 

“Very distracting.”

She smiled at him. Her finger kept drawing shapes all over his face. “You have freckles,” she pointed out. “I counted them. You have at least twenty on your nose.”

“Do I?”

“Yeah. And there is a slight crook in your nose, it’s perfect. Your eyes, they’re a mix of brown and green. In the sun, it’s like honey, a lighter shade of brown. When you’re angry, they remind me of hazelnuts. Other times walnuts. But when the light is right, I can see the green specks in your irises.”

He chuckled softly. “How long have you been watching me, exactly?” 

“Some time,” she admitted. “There is just a lot about you that amazes me.”

“Yeah, what else? Describe it to me.”

“Well, your lips for example. They’re soft, both equally as plump and they curl into that little smirk that I like so much. You should use chapstick more often though ‘cause sometimes they look cracked.” She touched his lips. “And you have these little wrinkles at the corner of your eyes-” she moved on, “from smiling, even though you don’t smile a lot, which makes me think you used to smile and laugh way more often.” His eyes fluttered shut. “There are also two perfectly good dimples that show best when you fully laugh at something, it’s like the sun comes out whenever you do.”

Eliza noticed the lines on his forehead, deeper than usual. “Have I mentioned your hair?” she moved her hand to the said part of him. “It’s brown with some tints of red in there, but it’s mostly dark, like the rest of your body hair.” Once again, she imagined him with chest hair and her mind went blank. “You know, on your arm, there is this one vein, which travels from your shoulder, down your bicep, and over your forearm,” she said, tracing that particular blood vessel with her finger. “They even bulge on the back of your hands. It’s honestly quite distracting, especially when you clench your fist around your cane,” and she took his hand. She knew the next words were going to make him feel vulnerable.  “Oh, I almost forget your scars. I think they’re the most beautiful part of you. Your scars tell the story of so many saved lives and… it shows that you’re human, like everyone else. When I run my finger over them-” so she did; though covered by the fabric of his shirt, she knew exactly where they were. “I can see what you did to get them and I have the utmost respect for you, Matthew, for all the things you did just to protect Hell’s Kitchen.”

By the time she finished, he was crying. Her face fell. “Hey,” she propped herself up on her elbow on his thigh. “I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?”

He shook his head, “No.”

“Then what is it?”

She tasted his tears when he kissed her. It was a loving kiss. He poured all of his emotions into her mouth, moving them slowly against hers. His hands traveled over her sides, holding her face. She wrapped her hands around his neck. 

Matt reached under the hem of her shirt. She sat up in an instant, throwing her leg over his lap. He continued slowly making out with her as his gentle touch moved over every inch of skin he could find. 

Something about her appreciating and seeing everything, all of him, made him feel too much at once.

“I can feel that you’re conflicted,” she breathed into his mouth. “But I don’t know what’s wrong.”

He chased her lips. “Nothing’s wrong.” He kissed her. 

Her hand landed on his chest. The warmth filled his veins. He opened his heart and soul to her and she reached for it, analyzing the whirlwind displayed in his obvious body language. She sighed at the amount of adoration for her that filled him, sucked in by her powers, and transferred to her brain, releasing several kinds of endorphins. 

The pair was lulled into a faint, red silhouette. Bright light surrounded them. It wasn’t the billboard, unlike many other times. That night, it displayed mostly purple rays of artificial light. What consumed them was the raw amalgamation of emotions seeping out of her in a charge of power. As he kissed her, his emotions mixed with hers, creating a blanket over their heads. A protective shield only meant for them. He couldn’t see it, but the warmth caressed his veins. The comfort made his skin tingle as her magic ran over the small hairs on the back of his arms. He felt the sudden urge to be even closer to her, have her swallow him, and carry him around with her everywhere she went. 

The apartment around them disappeared. Eliza had no control over what happened. The curtain closed over the furniture and instead, the universe looked back at them. Stars, planets, and the night sky. It was almost like a Diashow made out of the personification of emotions and unspoken feelings. So many different colors exploded, painting the world in the entire color wheel. They erupted around them as if the light just broke through church windows. 

She realized his veins were glowing underneath her hand where they lay against his cheek. His eyes had the same color, hooded and ready for more. He was mesmerized, the world appearing ephemeral. She stared through the window of his soul and his soul stared back into hers. Her reflection danced off the red in his usually so brown eyes. She had connected them in some way, a way she couldn’t quite understand, and now the world was crumbling around them as reality changed to fit what they needed. He was her world and she was his. They craved serenity, the world disappeared only for a bit, sometimes in which they didn’t have to think about anything but themselves, so she simply made the world disappear. 

He groaned. She wasn’t sure if it was pain or pleasure but considering he bore half of the energy emerging from her veins and his senses were heightened, making the experience stronger beyond compare, she went with the former option.

She gasped. “I’m so sorry.” She released his face, instantly removing herself from his lap, and plopped down on the couch beside him. The world snapped back to normal. The universe disappeared. “I don’t know what happened, I lost control, and I… God, this shouldn’t have happened.”

Matt blinked to get rid of the fog in his brain. “What’re you talking about?” he asked. His hand searched for her. 

“No, I hurt you.”

“No,” he shook his head, “far from it.” He pulled her back into his lap. 

“But you groaned, I…”

He chuckled softly, nodding down to his lap. “I want more.”

Her mouth formed the shape of an ‘o’ as she stared at the obvious bulge in his sweatpants. Sweat coated his forehead. She hadn’t realized how strong the connection was. They were dependent on each other’s touch. She took off the sweater she wore, suddenly too hot in his presence. The light of the billboard reflected off the sweat on her forehead and the swollen skin of her bottom lip.

“I need to get the edge off,” she said. 

Matt hummed, slipping his hand into her pants (his boxers), but she stopped him. She fell on her knees between his spread thighs. He shifted, hair a mess and cheeks flushed, frowning a little at the change of scenery.

“What are you-“

“Trust me, as much as this looks like I’m doing it for you, I most certainly am not.”

Words weren’t needed as she kissed along the outline of his sweatpants before pulling them down, followed by a silent demand to take his shirt off. He complied. He let her have her way. This wasn’t about him, she was right, even though it excited him that this was something she would choose to take care of herself. 

He threw his head back into the cushions, bucking his hips against her face. The gentle kissing along the clothed outline of his cock sent shockwaves through his body. Her nails dug into his thighs. He whined. She continued agonizingly slow until she finally undressed him completely and sucked his hard cock into her mouth. She started with the head, and she chose to stay that way, suckling on his weeping tip.

He searched for support on the armrest. She didn’t warn him, she just moaned before sinking completely. He choked on nothing. 

“Fucking- God!” His eyes rolled into the back of his head.

She sighed at the soft tune of his voice in her ear. Still, she didn’t pick up the pace. 

“This is torture. Please, do something. Fuck! I can’t… I can’t take this.”

She pulled off. “Too fucking bad, Matthew. I need to be in control right now so be a good boy and do as you’re told.”

“You have no idea what you’re asking of me.”

“Oh, I think I do.” She blew cold air over his cock. 

He hissed. “Ah!” One of his hands reached for her hair, but she slapped it away. 

“No touching.”

“But-”

“No.”

Matt’s lips parted in a pathetic whimper, throwing his head back into the back of the couch as her mouth opened and she took his entire cock back into the tight confines of her throat. Much to her surprise, he kept his hands to himself, and the sounds that came out of him sounded like an angel’s choir to her ears. She figured he had a submissive bone in his body, catholic guilt and all, but this was something she hadn’t seen coming. Him surrendering himself completely, following her demands without a second thought, and she surprised herself at just how much it turned her on. 

He rested heavily on her tongue. Her mouth was full, incredibly so, and he tasted like the most sinful heaven. The noises he made distracted her from the whirlwind of thoughts in her head. She was high off of him. So beautiful, she thought, looking up at him through hooded eyelashes to find his head thrown back, lips slightly parted and his bicep straining with the hold he had on the leather couch. The vein she had mentioned before stood at full attention, a delicious swollen part of him, but nothing like what she had in her mouth. She felt him twitch in the back of her throat and she stilled, pulling off. She returned to pressing small kisses to the head of his cock, dragging her tongue through the slit and down his shaft, paying close attention to the bulging veins. 

He whimpered. His nails dug into the couch. His thigh shot up. He was trying so hard to control himself, but it was hard, harder than him. Nails raked over his sensitive skin, up his chest, and over his nipples. She gave them a harsh tug, causing him to cry out at the overstimulation, the mix of pain and pleasure that went straight to his cock. 

Every time he walked the edge, she pulled away. She kissed his thighs, waiting for his breath to calm, then sank back down on him. He felt the stars erupt behind his sightless eyes, the fog in his brain threatening to render him completely useless. 

Matt tried his hardest to be good, and he did, but as soon as her hand started jerking him off as her mouth dropped lower to funnel with his balls, he was done for. He lost hold of the leather and grabbed a fistful of her hair, which caused a surprised yelp out of her mouth, and he pushed her all the way down on his cock. 

He shouldn’t have done that. Eliza was strong, she just hardly showed it. She bucked against his hand, moving away completely. She stood several feet away from him now, his chest heaving with the loss of her warmth, cheeks flushed and he knew he had messed up.

“What did I tell you?” she asked, the scent of him filled his sensitive nose, and he could taste her saliva mixed with his pre-cum on his tongue. He licked his lips. The air was thick with the scent of both of them. “Matthew, what did I tell you?” her voice dropped an octave. 

“To- to keep my hands to myself. I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it. Your mouth… God, you feel so good. Please, come back. Come back here, right now!”

“You’re not in the position to make demands.”

“Sweetheart…”

“Don’t sweetheart me.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll be good, I promise.” Just like that, he fell to his aching knees. “I will do anything. Just please, let me touch you.”

Her breath shuddered. Damn. Seeing him so desperate was something else. She reveled in the power, the feeling of absolute control over the usually so dominant man before her. It was the one thing she could control, his pleasure and her own. He gave her the reins, willingly submitting himself to her. He wouldn’t have done this for just anyone. Just like her, he liked to be in control, and he did so often. The things he couldn’t control, he made up by controlling everything else. He knew what the feeling was like and it was hot, to experience her like this. Nothing could match up to having her writhe underneath him, but she had rendered him mindless already, and he hadn’t even come yet. 

Eliza contemplated, then took his hands to guide them to her torso. “Only above the waist,” she told him. 

He sighed. Tears pooled in his eyes, tears of relief. “Thank you!” His desperate fingers traced every sliver of skin he could find. 

“Take my shirt off,” - he scrambled to get to his feet, but she pushed him back down - “No, stay. Gotta make sure you don’t get the idea to touch me anywhere else by overpowering me.”

“I would never.”

“Yes, you would.”

Yes, he would.

Once her shirt was off, he grabbed her hips, moving on to her tits, cupping and squeezing him until she was panting. His lips traced around her belly button, nibbling at the skin. Every time his hands threatened to slip slower, she pulled at his hair and he stilled his movement. 

The wetness pooled inside the boxers she had borrowed from him. He paid such close attention, she was beyond turned on. For a second, she considered caving in and asking him to take her to bed, fuck the living shit out of her until she couldn’t think anymore, and then give her another four orgasms just for the thrill of it because that man knew how to work in bed. She didn’t though. She pulled his face away from her skin, staring into his hooded eyes, those beautiful brown eyes that made her heart swell, and she leaned down to kiss him. 

“Would you mind taking my pants off, Matty?” she asked sweetly, though her tone made him whine. 

He nodded eagerly. Without a sound, he pulled off his boxers. Her scent hit his nose full on, her crotch right in front of him. He couldn’t help it, he moaned in the back of his throat, touching his lips as her taste overwhelmed his senses. He could taste her wetness on his tongue. 

She ran a hand through his hair. “You look so beautiful like this, you know that?”

“Mh-hm.”

“You want to taste me so desperately right now, don’t you?”

He nodded again. 

“Ask for it.”

“I…” he whimpered, “May I taste you, sweetheart? Please!”

“Mhhh,” she thought about it, “No.”

“What?” 

Eliza shoved him to the ground, sitting up against the couch. He gasped. The leather squished with her wetness as she lowered herself down, thighs on either side of his head, eyes pointing up. He couldn’t see it, but he could hear, smell and taste it and not being able to touch her was absolute torture. 

“You stay down.”

“Baby, please, no.”

Her finger started to play with her clit. He whined. 

“Touch yourself,” she said. “Do what I’m doing, let me watch you touch that pretty cock of yours. But you have to wait for me to give you permission to cum, can you do that?”

He could have burst right then and there, so when he nodded and agreed, he knew the probability of him failing her simple demand was high. 

“Good boy.”

He threw his head back in a wanton moan. “Sweetheart…” he removed his underwear completely, spitting into his hand and starting a slow, agonizing pace along his cock. 

“What is it, Matty?” she cooed. 

“I want to taste you. I need to.” 

“You can’t come like this, is that it?”

“No, I need you.”

“I’m here. You can smell me, can’t you? You can hear me touch my clit, and taste just how wet I am without even touching me. You know what you’re doing to me, what watching you do that does to me, so what else could you possibly need from me when I’m already so merciful?”

“I need to taste you, really taste you. Please, sweetheart. I’ve been so good.” His hand sped up, fisting his cock hard, rubbing his thumb over the weeping tip. He paused his begging to cry out. “I want to make you feel good. Want to be the one touching you. Need you to drown me in you. Just please, use me, sweetheart. Use me, make me suffer, anything but what you’re doing right now.”

“Wouldn’t that be a reward? Do you deserve to be rewarded?”

“Yes!”

She moaned at the sight of his abs flexing with the impending orgasm. He was jerking himself off so fast, she knew he wasn’t going to last long. The sound of her voice drove him into ecstasy. 

“You have been a good boy, haven’t you?” A hand started stroking his cheek. “So good you didn’t even realize how close you are just from begging me.”

“Oh, God.”

“What was that? Was that a plea? Or was it just blasphemy?” 

“Please, sweetheart. Can I…? Just a taste. Please.” 

“Mh-hm. I suppose you can.”

She pushed his lip down, sliding her finger into his mouth. Her taste exploded on his tongue. His back arched as his cum shot all over his bare stomach, white streams of thick liquid painting his skin. She swallowed his moan with her mouth, kissing him, stroking his hair. Replacing his hand with hers, she kept pumping his oversensitive cock. The orgasm dragged on for what felt like an eternity. The strokes began to grow painful. Tears coated his sweaty cheeks. 

He hissed. “Too much.”

“I know.” She didn’t stop. “But isn’t that what you do to me over and over and over again, until I’m crying for you to have mercy on me?”

He was already crying, but as long as he didn’t use the safe word (which was meant for the both of them) she wouldn’t stop. Her hand kept moving in painfully slow strokes, thumb rubbing the cum over his tip – he didn’t even have time to breathe, his cock remaining hard. He could already feel the second orgasm building up, draining him of energy. 

Eliza kissed his neck softly. “You can give me another one,” she didn’t ask, she stated. “And maybe then you can touch me.”

He took a deep breath. His ears were ringing, nose full of her and him, and he could feel even the last fiber of the ground under his clenched fists. Even the temperature of the couch seeped detailed into his burning skin. 

“Fuck.” She kissed him, at least some mercy in the wake of overstimulation. Though the gentle touches made it even worse. 

“I’m gonna use you as I see fit, Matthew,” she purred. Her hand suddenly disappeared. Slipping from the couch, she sank to her knees, situated between his spread thighs. 

He whined again, “Please.” Now that his body was ready, he couldn’t hold off, it was physically impossible.

She licked the cum off his stomach first. A lewd moan left her plump lips. “Wanna taste?” 

“Yes,” he said. She kissed him, mixing their arousal with her tongue. He moaned, in need of more. 

She resumed the movements of her hand only momentarily before she licked a long stripe up the outline of his cock. He whimpered, wondering when this torture was going to end. The attention to the most sensitive part of him, fondling his balls. He wanted to die. He was sure he died. Her thumb traced over the protruding veins, tongue dragging through the slit. She felt him twitch. He was holding on desperately, trying not to come too soon. Remarkable, she thought. Though he had suffered enough.

She sucked him into her hot mouth. He hit the back of her throat. His nails clawed into the leather, breaking it. Not a metaphor, he broke the material. One of her hands traveled up his chest, landing around his throat. He swallowed. No one had ever dared to do that before, even though he had hinted at the Mutual liking for choking before. No woman or man had ever tried to give it back to him, mostly because he often fell back into dominant patterns, eager to please not to be pleased. 

“Fuck, sweetie!” he choked out. “That’s so good, fuck! Doing so well.”

Screw him and his silver tongue. She squeezed her hand around his throat, blocking his vocal cords. The demand she uttered next was simple. “Cum,” she as much as growled, allowing him to release all over her bare chest. She coaxed him through it.

“You okay?” She removed her hands slowly. 

“I'm fine, yeah.”

She dragged a finger through his cum and stuffed it into her mouth. Her cheeks hollowed around the digit. He grunted. She took his hand to do the same to his fingers, cum smeared all over them mixed with his saliva. She licked his palm slowly, cleaning every last inch with the tip of her tongue. “Hmm, you taste so good.”

Matt opened his mouth eagerly. “Fuck!”

“Yes, fuck indeed. And you know what? You’re free to do whatever you want with me now, as long as you remember you’re not the one in control.” He looked so good, her eyes rolled into the back of her head. 

He didn’t have to be told twice. She landed on the couch with a loud thud. He reached for her thighs, pulling her further to the edge where his head was resting. He leaned further back. “Sit on my face,” he said. 

“What?”

“I want you to sit on my face. I’m gonna make you feel so good, I promise.”

Her cheeks flushed a deep red. “I’m not… what if I’m too heavy?”

“Too heavy?” he laughed out. “You could never be too heavy.”

“I could suffocate you.”

“That would be an incredible way to go, but you won’t. If you haven’t by now, it probably won’t happen.”

“Matt, I don’t know if I can do it.”

“I can always grind you down on me and then it’s my turn to ruin you.”

She smacked his cheek. “No.”

“Ow!” He loved it. “Sweetie, please. Ride my face. Use me.”

She flipped around, knees on either side of his face. The position was vulnerable, knowing he could smell everything, feel everything and hear everything. She braced herself on the backrest. His hands splayed out on her hips, stroking over her waist. 

“I said sit,” he grumbled, “not hover. Do you need a dictionary?”

“Matthew,” she warned. 

“Frankly, I don’t care. You can punish me later. Sit. Down.”

She gasped loudly when he pulled her down on his face, tongue parting her folds while his nose nudged her clit. He dove right in, not giving her a moment to prepare. He fucked his tongue into her, moving his face back and forth, side to side, causing delicious friction to travel from her thighs to her cunt. 

“Jesus fuck!” One hand stayed on the back of her couch, and the other grabbed his hair, pulling him closer. Her cheeks were red, stomach heavy. She sat on his face, naked. She had never done this before. 

He moaned. “You’re thinking too hard. Take what you need,” he said. His breath was hot against her clit. “I want all of you. Please, give it to me.”

She nodded. Slowly, she began to rock her hips against his face. His eyes rolled back, nails digging into her hips. He guided her movements only slightly, feeding her confidence. His lips suctioned around her clitoris, applying sweet, torturous pressure on the sensitive nerve bundle. She should have made him suffer for mouthing off on her before, but she couldn’t think. He ate her out like a starved man. She was his last meal on death row and he wanted to make it worth her while. He didn’t stall, he just kept licking and sucking and licking and sucking while her hips followed the thrusts of his tongue, the friction of his beard and his nose against her clit, and just like that the orgasm built up at high speed. 

Her forehead pressed against the leather, lewd sounds escaping her lips. A hand traveled to her breasts, playing with her nipple, the other disappeared from her hot hip and slid down his body. He grabbed his cock, already hard again, and started stroking himself in time with the back and forth of her hips. His lips and tongue moved faster, feeling her muscles tense, her voice cracking and the wetness stream faster out of her and onto his tongue. He was in heaven, eyes rolled back so far, he could have sworn he reached his brain. 

She cried out when his hand found her throat, not entirely wrapped around her pulse point, but enough to squeeze tightly, hoisting her up so her back was straight and he could feel and listen to her accelerated heartbeat as he worked her closer to the edge. 

“Matt, I’m close,” she whined. “Don’t stop, fuck!”

He wasn’t planning on it. 

She ground harder on his face, the knot growing tighter and tighter and tighter until it suddenly snapped, causing her body to release an obscene amount of wetness and sounds as she came all over his face. He moaned against her, trapped against her cunt with her hand in his hair, thighs clenching around his head. The air was knocked out of his lungs, yet he kept sucking on her clit like a desperate bastard. 

She cried into the leather, chest heaving with breaths that wouldn’t quite come out. He flinched at the hand slapping his forehead, forcing him to let go. His eyes fluttered open.

“Stop touching yourself.” 

He only hesitantly let go of his cock. 

“Get up here.”

She moved off his face, allowing him to stumble on the couch, falling into the cushions. She was on his lap just as fast, engulfing him in a searing kiss. “I want you to fill me up, not that pretty little hand of yours,” she told him. 

Matt moaned at her sinful words. She lined his cock up with her entrance and sank completely, gasping. Her walls stretched. Somehow he fit better than in the beginning. She was starting to get used to him, although she stopped as soon as he was deep inside of her, catching her lost breath. His arm wrapped around her waist to hold her closer. 

“If, at any point, you feel the need to fuck me, do it.”

“Yes, ma’am.” That was something he could do. 

She smashed her lips against his, starting to rock her hips in a steady rhythm. She pulled off ever so slightly before bottoming out. He met her hips with soft thrusts, allowing her to circle her hips while also reaching the deepest, darkest parts of her tight walls. Neither of them was going to last long. The kisses were slow, sloppy, and messy at that, his thrusts uneven and her hips desperate in their motion. 

In one swift motion, he flipped her over. The sweat made her skin stick to the leather, but she couldn’t have cared less about the new angle he found. The couch was small and for a second she was scared he might send them flying to the floor. He set a slow pace, but his thrusts were deep. His cock managed to brush spots he hadn’t pushed into before and she slowly lost her mind. She held onto the armrest behind her head, hoping to find some leverage, while the other tangled in his hair where his head dropped into the crook of her neck. 

He panted into her skin, kissing and biting over her pulse point. He sucked hard, feeling the blood pool underneath the assaulted spot, turning purple. He did the same to her jaw, though he tried not to leave any marks on her face, which was hard considering she pressed her lips so hard to his, their lips might as well have split open. She bit his bottom lip, earning a groan. She tucked at his hair. The volume multiplied. 

Matt most definitely had a pain kink. 

He held himself up with one arm propped up on the armrest, the other wrapping around her throat. Her tongue traced that stupid vein on his bicep, gently biting down on it, just enough to make him know that he belonged to her. It was a loving way of marking him. His arm looked way too good, denting the leather, his bicep growing at least a size with all the flexing. She clenched around him. The sight of him was entirely too much. Her back arched off the couch and without any more stimulation, just looking at him basked in the purple light of the Billboard, hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, and the hooded eyes so dark, she could see into his soul, was enough to make her come apart. Her muscles contracted around his overly sensitive cock and he moaned deeply into her collarbone.

“Fuck!”

She whined. 

Only a few more thrusts and he followed behind her, too worked up to care that he made quite the mess on the black of the couch as his cum filled her up and overflowed.

He changed his stance, shifting his weight to his forearm. He copied the movement of her hand in his hair, combing his fingers through the tangled locks standing wildly off her head. 

She grabbed his hips when he tried to pull out. “Stay,” she breathed.

He nodded. “Okay.” 

“Just want to feel you a little longer.”

“You can have me,” Matt whispered back, matching her tone. “All of me, all the time.” 

Eliza followed the dip of his skin around his spine with her middle finger, and she swallowed. “You know, there is such sad beauty in your vulnerability. Looks don’t matter, although you are by far the prettiest creature out there, your heart is set right, and that makes you so incredibly beautiful, I think a lot of people envy that.”

“Fuck,” he groaned against her neck. “Stop it! I’m gonna get hard again if you keep talking like that.” 

She broke into giggles. “I’m sorry.”

“No, I love hearing it. I just have to get used to... all of that. The kind words, the loving touches, the inhuman amount of attention you are willing to give me; everything you give me is just so overwhelming, I find it hard to breathe.” 

“I’m sorry.” Eliza kissed his temple, head now fully nuzzled into her neck. His weight rested on her like a blanket, but she wasn’t all too overstimulated this time, so she let him. It was his way of winding down, listening to her heart, and putting his mind at ease. “I’m sorry no one’s ever said that to you before,” she said. “‘Cause you deserve to be appreciated. You give so much, yet get nothing in return. I know your religion makes you want to put everyone before you and that’s remarkable, but who’s gonna take care of you?”

His shoulders tensed. He struggled to get a proper amount of oxygen into his lungs. With his head buried in her skin, he could hide what her words were doing to him, though as soon as the tears shot into his eyes, she knew. 

“You deserve to be taken care of, Matt. It’s not your job to take care of everyone. You’ll still have meaning, a purpose, and a place in this life if you look after yourself for a change. Listen,” she grabbed his cheeks and brought him face to face with her, the tears on full display as he struggled to keep himself from sobbing, “I’m not your responsibility. You don’t have to take care of me all the time. New York can survive a few days without you. The world won’t end just because you decide not to be God’s strongest soldier for a day or two, or perhaps even forever. God will forgive you for choosing yourself. He’d encourage it. There is nothing wrong with putting yourself first. And please, if you need to cry, do it. I’m the last person to judge you for being vulnerable. You told me it’s okay to feel. Take your advice. Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. Maybe not all the time. More often than not, really, but this is hard on you too, and I’m so sorry for not realizing it sooner. You’re not okay. You can’t be. You don’t have to be. Please, let yourself feel whatever it is that you need to feel right now. I’m here for you.”

His head fell out of her hands, just below her chin, and he finally let the dam break. His sobs reminded her of the sky breaking apart. It was awful and painful to hear. Her heart shattered. She wasn’t sure how to hold him without breaking him further. She wasn’t sure what he needed. She waited patiently for him to wrap his hands around her body, melting into her, before she returned the gesture. When she told him to let it out, she had expected a lot, just not this amount of excruciating pain tearing his soul apart. 

Eliza ran her hand through his hair. All she could do was repeat the same motion over and over again, followed by the softest shushes and sweet nothings into his ear. 

“It’s okay,” she said. “You’re okay.” Her voice cracked, switching to a higher octave, and the tears stung in her eyes like hot chili peppers.

He wheezed, gasping for air. She turned his head a little so his nose rested in an oxygen-rich environment and not against her sweaty skin that turned even saltier in taste and smell with the ocean of his tears trickling down her chest. It wasn’t long before her own mixed with his, no longer able to stay strong. Seeing Matt cry would always break her just a little more. 

“Matt, breathe, please,” she found herself saying. 

He shuddered. “I can’t…”

“I know. Just try, please. For me.”

His chest heaved. Her hand on his back kept him grounded, pulling him away from the brink of insanity and into the safety of her arms. His sobs died into heavy hiccups before subsiding into hitches of breath. The tears flowed for just a little longer, pent up from all the stress and finally being able to flow freely without having to worry what others might think. It was just them. She held him through the aftershocks, until the worst was over, and even then she refused to loosen her grip, afraid he might find himself slipping away again. 

After a while, she heard him chuckle against her neck. 

“This is so embarrassing,” he said, voice muffled against her collarbone. 

She sighed. “It’s not.”

“Crying after sex… that’s pathetic.”

“I cried after sex.”

“That’s not the same.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” he huffed. 

“See? You can’t even find a good excuse for that flawed logic,” she said, hand stroking his hair back. He tilted his chin up slightly, sightless eyes moving around aimlessly, focused on a dead spot on the ceiling behind her. Eliza moved her hand from his hair to his face. She needed a better angle to kiss him, and even though his neck craned enough to pull painfully at his muscles; he let it happen. He melted into the kiss. “Your feelings are valid, too, Matthew. I’m gonna remind you of that as long as I have to for you to believe me.”

“I believe you,” he argued. 

She chuckled softly. “You believe me most of the time, just not with this,” she corrected his previous statement. “These are two entirely different things.”

Matt scoffed. “Why do I always end up in this position?” 

“In what position, exactly? Enlighten me.”

“A position in which you have to prove you are more emotionally mature than me. I know it’s true, but it still hurts my ego.”

“Well, I do have supernatural powers that make it possible for me to manipulate emotions, so I have a better understanding of the soul.”

“Yeah, but why do you have to be so smug about it?”

“I don’t know, maybe ‘cause I’m smarter than you.”

He laughed, tongue poking his cheek. For someone calling her smug, he sure did a good job at acting as such himself. “Smart, yes,” he said, and the second he opened his mouth she knew what came to his mind. He lifted himself to tower over her again. “Smarter? That’s to be determined.”

“Oh, really?” she cocked an eyebrow. 

“Mh-hm.” His cock swelled inside of her. 

She couldn’t help but giggle at his desperate attempts. “What are you-ah!” he thrust forward quickly, making her body jolt with the sudden surge of pleasure. “Matt, what is it with you and using sex as a - shit! - coping mechanism?”

“Says you,” he moaned into her ear. “I think we’re both desperate, that’s what makes this so good.”

He set a slow, steady pace. She hooked one leg around his waist, pulling him deeper into her tight cunt. 

“It is good, yes.”

“Mh-hm. Why would we ever stop?”

“Don’t know and don’t want to.”

He cradled her face as he kissed her, long and hard, his hips never faltering in their maddening rhythm. She panted against his lips, though he refused to let up. He held her close to him, impossibly close, and his mouth swallowed all the little sounds of pleasure erupting from her throat. He moved on to her cheek, her neck, then back to her lips. 

Matt’s voice resembled a skilled snake charmer playing his flute to manipulate the snake inside the basket to follow his every tune. He was hypnotic, to say the least. He knew how to use his words like the keys on a piano, stringing together one of the most beautiful melodies in the history of melodies. He had two sides during sex that often blurred together. He read the clues like Braille, easily figuring out which side to use in what situation. He would either completely degrade his partner until they were ashamed and crying, or he would use tons of praise to coax her into as many orgasms as he wanted. That was his goal, after all, to please his partner. The way he did it depended entirely on the mood of the situation. 

The jury was still out on what compelled him to use his silver tongue in the way he did this time. “Have I ever told you how good you feel?” he said. His cock brushed her sweet spot, directing every stroke there to savor every last moan she let out. “And your sounds, baby. God, I love those little sounds you make every time I do this.” 

She threw her head back. 

“Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about.”

“Matthew,” she whined.

“What?”

“Fuck me.”

He chuckled breathlessly. “You are so needy.”

Though he didn’t hesitate to pull out, flip her around so she was on her stomach and thrust his cock right back between her folds and into her tight hole. Her lips parted, but the sounds got stuck in her throat. She spread her legs, tried to at least; he firmly forced them back together. 

“Keep them closed.”

The position made her cunt even tighter around him. Her velvety walls felt like a tailored glove around his cock. The intrusion burned. He didn’t have much space to move, so she could feel every vein and every last twitch as he thrust into her. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he had bottomed out. He stayed there, buried to the hilt inside of her, his lips pressing gentle kisses to her shoulder blades and spine. A hand reached around her, pushing down on her lower stomach where his cock was pretty much visible, and pushed her hips back against his. Her back arched slightly. He kept her in place with his large hand, grinding her against him. 

She cursed. “God. Faster.”

“Patience, sweetheart.”

He circled his hips a couple more times, just until she had adjusted to the new position and the pain in her muscles subsided. Then, he finally picked up the pace. He picked up the speed of his thrusts, multiplying them. He guided the head of his cock against the same spot repeatedly, managing to stroke her g-spot and hit her cervix over and over again. She moaned, writhed, and cried, but it came all from a place of pleasure. 

Matt was pressed tightly against her back, only one hand holding him upright as he added more pressure to his thrusts. He reached for her wrists, crossing them behind her back. She groaned, her forehead being the only thing supporting her against the leather of the couch. 

“Is that what you wanted?” he asked. “For me to fuck you like this? To give back what you gave me?”

She nodded. 

“Words, sweetheart. Use them.”

“Yes! I wanted you to fuck me so badly.”

“Is that so?”

“That’s all I’ve been thinking about. I need you so fucking bad, Matthew.”

“Like this?”

“Harder.”

“Harder? Wow.” He sounded almost condescending with his laugh, shifting onto his knees, and he forced her on her knees before him. Her back was still lunged forward, held up in the air by his strong arms only. Her thighs burned. Full body workout. This was familiar, she thought. Her mind flashed back to the night before. 

Even though they were both kneeling, he forced her to keep her legs together. Her stomach bulged. He could feel himself moving under her skin. The overwhelming sensation of everything being so hot and tight almost made him lose it. “You are such,” he pounded into her, slapping her ass with every thrust, “a,” another one, “greedy,” another one, “Slut!”

She cried out. 

“Does that turn you on? Being my little, greedy cumslut?”

“Fuck!”

“Huh, what was that?”

“Yes!”

“Yes, what?”

She wasn’t sure what he wanted to hear. “Fuck, yes, Matthew! I’m your slut. Only yours.”

“Mh-hm. Good girl.” He reached between her legs to play with her swollen clit. “I own you. All of this is mine. Your heart, your body, and this fucking pussy is mine too, understood? So you’re gonna come for me now, all over my cock, and I will give you what you want the most.”

She couldn’t speak. Her lungs caved in, eyes rolling into the back of her head. The hot pleasure shot straight to her cunt. She lost all self-control, letting go of the line that attached her to sanity. She allowed the bomb to explode and tear her whole body to shreds with one of the most intense orgasms he had ever managed to pull out of her. 

“That’s it. That’s my girl. Such a good fucking girl.” With another hard slap on her ass, he collapsed on top of her. She milked him dry, the spurting cum mixing with his previous release and causing even more of a mess. 

Her head was so far in the clouds, she only realized he was still circling her clit with his fingers when it started to hurt and she physically had to slap his hand away to get him to stop. He panted loudly into her ear, holding her tightly against him without placing his entire weight on her back. That hadn’t turned out so well before. 

He brushed her hair back. “You okay?” he asked.

She nodded. “Definitely.”

He turned on his back with her in his arms, repositioning her so she lay on his chest. He was still breathing heavily, his heart threatening to jump through his skin. 

Her cold finger traced the scars on his torso. Sweat had collected on the back of his neck, trickling down the front of his body. She caught it, already mixed with some of the leftover cum on his stomach. They needed another shower.

“Was that okay?” her voice was small when she broke the silence again. 

Matt frowned. “Okay?”

“Yeah, me treating you like that. I didn’t check in with you. I just…”

“It was more than okay,” he breathed out. “In fact, it was probably one of the hottest things I’ve ever experienced you do.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, just… don’t tell anyone this happened.”

She giggled. “Considering I don’t have anyone to talk to, you’re good.”

“I’m joking.” His hand trailed up her spine, goosebumps following his touch. “I think you were right. I have one or two submissive bones in my body.”

“One or two?” she teased. “Felt more like a thousand.”

“I don’t even have that many bones.”

“Exactly.”

“I suppose it’s the catholic in me.”

“The Catholic in you should be celibate.”

“Yeah, he can’t do that.”

“Mh-hm, I know.”

Matt’s phone suddenly rang out. Foggy, Foggy, Foggy! He sucked in a sharp breath, reaching beside him to feel for the device on the living room table. She made a silent gesture for him to lie back. 

Eliza climbed over him, grabbed the still-ringing phone, and handed it to him, lying back down on his chest to listen to his steadying heartbeat. 

He answered, “Yeah.”

She could hear Foggy’s faint voice through the speaker. A strand of hair got caught on her bruised lip, which Matt quickly brushed behind her ear, along with the rest of her unruly sex-crazed hair. She sighed happily, propping her chin up on his chest to watch him. He could feel her eyes on him, the look something else, something new. Even though he couldn’t see it, he could feel how the way she looked at him shifted every time her eyes met his. Something was different, and it wasn’t the sex. It wasn’t his comfort or the realization that they were closer to finding the truth than ever - there was something else entirely in her eyes and he felt a little uneasy, not knowing what it was. He usually did, but this time, he couldn’t pinpoint what happened. 

“Meet me at Josie’s in an hour,” Foggy said. 

“What?” He rubbed his brows. “Why would I do that?”

“Not you, the both of you.”

“Foggy-”

“Get her a hat and a hoodie. Josie isn’t gonna care. Hell, she does illegal shit all the time, harboring a fugitive should be the least of her concerns.” He swallowed something audibly sharp. “I couldn’t sleep, so I went to have a drink, but I couldn’t stop thinking about what you told me, so I want answers. Right now. It’s almost morning anyway. I figured you’d be awake. Get your stuff and then come over! Don’t make me ask again.”

“It’s not a good idea.”

“Do you have a better idea?”

Eliza sighed. “We’re on our way,” she said. 

“Do I even wanna know why she’s close enough to the phone to hear me?”

“Better not,” Matt smirked. 

“Man, I’m so glad I didn’t come over.”

“Yeah, me too.”

She slapped his chest. 

“I mean, we’re on our way. See you in a bit!”

Foggy didn’t say goodbye, he simply hung up with a scoff. Even several feet away from him, she could have heard. 

Matt’s smirk only grew wider, realizing she blushed. “I couldn’t help myself,” he said. 

“Shut up.” She got up, the leather peeling off of her like glue. “I’m going to get cleaned up.”

His laugh followed her into the bathroom. She counted the seconds after using the bathroom - in peace this time - leaning against the cold shoulder wall with her arms crossed. 

“One, two…”

The door opened. Matt pulled the curtain aside, stepping in. The warm water instantly flattened his dark hair. He walked straight through the stream, engulfing her in a bone-crushing hug against his hard chest. 

“That was disappointing,” she murmured. 

“Why?”

“I thought it’d take you shorter than that.”

“Oh, so that one time I give you privacy, I’m taking too long?”

She playfully bit his nipple. “Don’t act as if you care about my personal space.”

“You’re right, I don’t.” He kissed her. “But you also don’t care about mine, so we’re even.”

“True,” she took the shampoo bottle from the shelf, “Now get your head under the water so I can wash your hair.”

He was more than glad about the domestic offer. The exhaustion seeped into his bones. Her fingers in his hair, massaging his scalp offered a welcomed relief to the tension in his shoulders. She made it all go away, just by taking care of him. She wasn’t big on words, but her actions spoke enough to make sense to him. 

She rinsed the shampoo out as soon as she was done, moving on to soak his body in soap. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he wondered out loud. 

“Like what?” she asked, a bit taken aback by that he could tell, but this was Matt for God’s sake. It shouldn’t have surprised her that he could tell the look in someone’s eyes just by analyzing their body language and physical clues.

“Like that,” he said. “The way you are right now.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“It’s… soft, almost.”

She stopped soaping his chest. Her eyes flicked from his face to the shower wall, but he turned her head back with a simple finger underneath her shin. “What is it, sweetheart?”

“You’re all done,” she said. “You should get out before your fingers get all wrinkly.”

“I don’t care.” He smiled softly at her. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, it’s just… I don’t know. I have no idea how I’m looking at you ‘cause every time I do, I’m just overwhelmed by all of the feelings I… feel.”

He hummed. “And you think I’m not?”

“I don’t know, it’s stupid.”

“Except for me, it’s every time I hear your voice, smell your perfume, taste your lips, feel your skin…”

“Matt, what does that mean?” she desperately clung to his arms. 

He shrugged in response. “I don’t know. I’m just as confused as you are.”

“I’m serious. I need to know.”

“I wanna try this,” he admitted quietly. The sound of the water almost tuned him out. “When this is all over, I want to try this. I know we said this is one and done, but I’m not ready to let you go. Not yet, probably not ever, but we won’t know for sure until we try, and I want to. I want to try. I have to admit, I’m a terrible boyfriend, but I’m ready to try to be better for you. You made me believe that I can be a better man.”

Run. No. 

“I…” she eyed him, eyed his hands on her shoulder, the man he was. He was so beautiful, so perfectly imperfect, she never wanted anything more than someone like him. Someone who could hold her, give her advice and make her feel special. He did. He made her feel like she wasn’t broken, not anymore at least. He made her feel like she wasn’t alone, and he made her feel attractive, which meant a lot after spending years hating every little thing about herself. Not just her body but her mind, and he seemed to appreciate the latter even more. He listened, ready to hear out everything she said. He put her first and that was something she would probably never get from someone else. 

Matt’s face dropped a little. He couldn’t figure out what she was thinking. His fingers felt her facial features, but even those didn’t say anything other than deafening silence. 

“Eliza,” he said softly. 

“I’m not used to being put first,” she blurted. “I’m not and it’s probably not gonna be easy with me. I know it’s not. When you say you’re a bad boyfriend, well, I’m worse. I don’t know how to care for someone when I’m broken, and I am. I’m so broken, I shouldn’t even have let you kiss me in the first place, but I did because I wanted to. I still want to. It’s not gonna be easy, Matt. And it’s gonna hurt you. I don’t know how to feel. I either eat everything up or I spit it all out, feeling so much at once, I destroy everything around me because I can’t deal with myself. I do it all the damn time, so I know for a fact that I’m gonna ruin you.”

“So be it! Ruin me. I don’t care.”

“You have no idea what you’re saying.”

“You say you know you’re gonna hurt me, but because you know that, I know it’s not gonna happen. And even if you do, do you think I’d care?”

“That’s the problem. I know you won’t.”

“So what are you saying? Are you dumping me?”

“No,” she sighed. She took her face in her hands, nuzzling her nose against his. “I want to try. This isn’t a one-and-done. It was never bound to be this way. If there is one thing I know I want it’s you, but I can’t promise you that it’s gonna work out the way you want it to. I might not be the person you want and when the time comes, it’s okay if you leave. I often ruin things just ‘cause I’m scared. It’s what I do. I get scared and I hurt the people around me before they can hurt me. So I mean it when I say it’s okay if you leave, I won’t hold it against you.”

“Who says I’m leaving?”

“Everyone always does.”

“Well, I’m not everyone, am I?”

She choked out a broken chuckle. “I guess not, no.”

“Besides, you’re not the only one with abandonment issues. I get scared too,” he said, his voice soft as silk. “I expect to be hurt, so I don’t put effort into relationships. I push people away to protect them and it hurts them. I’ve hurt so many people, I lost count. But you’re not gonna be one of those people, and I’m not gonna leave you either if you promise not to leave me.”

“If it gets too much and I decide to leave you, Matt, what then?”

“You won’t.” He sounded far too convinced for someone who just heard the inevitable truth. “You know why?”

“Why?” she threw back at him, exasperated. 

His lips hovered above hers. “‘Cause you know me better than anyone, and you know that nothing could ever hurt me, except for you leaving. That’s the one thing I couldn’t survive. So tell me again, do you think I’d leave you when things get just a little harder than they used to be, which seems impossible considering how hard things are right now? When you turn out to be just a little more complicated, a little more messed up than you are right now? When I need to pick you up over and over again because you’re hurt, something that isn’t even your fault, even though you would do the same for me in a heartbeat? Do you think I’d just leave you when things get hard? Just ‘cause you’re not the perfect golden child everyone wants you to be? Do you think that? Is that how you think of me?” 

A tear slipped from her eyes and onto the already wet shower floor. “No,” she whispered. 

“We met under extraordinary circumstances. We came together during the trial of our lives - of your life. We are at war right now and still, we always find our way back to each other. I don’t know about you, but this seems like a damn good reason to stay. A chance like this doesn’t come to people like us. We’re too damaged, too broken. We usually don’t get happy endings, unless we meet a person that is just like us, and we did. I believe that. You have to believe that too. I want to try being with you and I will; no matter how hard you push me away, I will always stay right here. You won’t knock me off my feet. I won’t let you ‘cause I know you’d hold on just as strong if I ever tried to push you away for something that is just in my head. This life, it’s not in our control. Us? We can control that. It’s the only thing we have a hold over. Feel my heart,” he said, placing her hand over the left side of his chest. 

“Feel that? I’m alive and you’re alive. That’s real. The monsters in our heads? Not real. You were the one who taught me that, and I believe that now. I regained a hope I thought I’d lost, and that hope now entails you, all of you, even the broken, complicated parts. Especially those. ‘Cause what is life if not complicated? What are we if not complex creatures? That’s how God intended the human race to be, after all. I don’t give a fuck if you’re not perfect! No one is. Those who say they are, are just lying to themselves. It’s not real. You are. You’re real and that makes you so much more likable ‘cause raw emotion is the most human thing to have.”

She pulled down into an emotional kiss. Where words failed, she could pour all of her feelings into a single kiss and he would always understand. She knew he would. They were the same, he was right. There could never be someone more fitting for her than him, her missing puzzle piece. 

“What is more human than this?” he whispered against her lips. “What’s more human than being with someone you can be vulnerable with and they still take you for all that you are?”

“You sound like a pastor,” she said. Her nose moved in the opposite direction.

He pulled her closer by the back of her neck. “I know. I used to be one in my previous life.”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

“With pleasure.”

She giggled when his teeth dug into her shoulder, tasting the water of the shower mixed with her essence. “I said kiss not bite.”

“Just marking my territory,” he reasoned. 

“Your territory, huh?” She opened her mouth, landing her teeth right on his bicep. 

“Ow! I didn’t even use that many teeth.” 

“Don’t be such a baby, Murdock.”

Her back hit the cold shower wall. 

She gawked up at him. “I shouldn’t have said that, right?” 

Sheepishly, he shook his head. His strong arms pulled her flush against his wet frame. The water came raining down on them at just the right temperature. 

“No,” he murmured. “No, you shouldn’t have.” 

“Well, fuck.” 

She was in for a treat. 

[sparkymalone]

Have you watched Scott pilgrim the anime?

How about an actors au: "wanna run lines in your trailer?"

Just, maybe with real sparks after the kissing scene instead of the one-sided first love…

D-D-D-DOUBLE POST!!

Here is an ask from fucking January. I'm so good at deadlines, guys.

Anyway, I had not seen the Scott Pilgrim anime at the time of getting this request, so part of the time delay was me thinking I needed to watch it to get the full context. And that took forever, because I have about a million things that I need to watch, but haven't. I'm that kinda bitch.

SO! I have seen it now lol. But really, this fic has very little to do with SP. I really leaned into the sparks thing, though. Uh, maybe more than is reasonable, but here we are.

“...And cut!”

The actors on set all breathed a sigh of relief and turned to the director expectantly. The director walked onto the set to describe what she was picturing to the actors, while some of the extras slipped away to the catering table.

Hajime sighed and set down the tray of coffee cups he was holding, offering one to each person that approached him. This definitely wasn't what he had had in mind when he signed up for film school. All he wanted was to direct, but here he was working craft services instead.

He had applied to Hope's Peak Film School right out of high school, and had taken out a hefty loan to pay for tuition. The school promised results, and Hollywood was positively packed with Hope's Peak graduates, so Hajime had high hopes going in.

Unfortunately, even Hope’s Peak couldn't do anything for someone with no talent. Turns out Hajime didn't have the eye necessary for directing, or for cinematography. He wasn't any good at screenwriting, lighting, or much of anything else, either.

But the school had promised results, so they couldn't very well tell him to leave. Instead, they had bounced him from program to program, trying to find a job he could excel at. Finally, they had stuck him in a “work study” program, which basically meant he was an intern on the set of another student's project.

Currently, he was being used as a gofer by the people on set, going on frequent coffee runs and helping out with catering in between. It was thankless work, and Hajime thought about just quitting every single day. But then he remembered how much money he had spent on this bullshit school, and that kept him from leaving.

That, and getting to see so many beautiful actors. The movie seemed to be some sort of gay romance drama, and as such, all of the lead actors were hot. As much as Hajime hated being there, his inner bisexual disaster was satisfied.

The guy in the lead male role was particularly gorgeous. His name was Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu, he was in the same year as Hajime but in the acting program, and somehow this was his first film. Hajime found himself staring whenever he was on set, finding him oddly captivating.

And maybe it was his imagination, but he could have sworn he caught Kuzuryu staring back once or twice.

The actor playing his love interest was good-looking, too, but he didn't seem to be very good at acting. Not that Hajime could judge, really. He had never tried acting, so what did he know? Maybe the guy was actually great.

Judging from the way Kuzuryu snapped at him when the camera was off, however, it seemed like he was pretty bad.

The director resumed her seat and everyone took their places. “Action!”

Hajime watched the scene unfold, and found himself enthralled when Kuzuryu began giving a heartfelt monologue to his love interest. He moved closer to the other man, gazing up into his eyes. The other actor gave a brief response, cupped his cheek, and kissed him.

The kiss looked… bad. Even ignoring the weird twinge of jealousy Hajime felt watching it, the kiss just seemed kind of awkward.

Kuzuryu apparently thought so, too, because he jerked away. “Are you fuckin' serious?!” he growled.

“Cut!” The director hopped out of her chair and approached the scene. “What's the problem?”

The taller man crossed his arms, glaring at Kuzuryu. “I don't know, ask him.”

But the director narrowed her eyes at him. “I'm asking you. That looked terrible. Have you ever kissed anyone before, Leon?”

The actor, Leon Kuwata, balked. “What?! Of course I have! If it looked bad it's because-”

“Hell no, don't try and pin this on me,” Kuzuryu snapped. “You're a shitty kisser.”

Kuwata glared at him. “It's just awkward ‘cause you're so damn short!”

This sparked a shouting match between the two actors. Hajime rolled his eyes, but decided that this seemed like a good opportunity to give the director her coffee.

“Miss Nevermind?” he called as he approached. When she turned, Hajime held out her coffee cup.

“Thank you,” the director sighed, clearly dismayed by the lack of chemistry between her two leads.

“Height has nothing to do with it, you're just a shitty actor!” Kuzuryu was shouting. He caught Hajime's eye and the brunette froze, trying not to notice as Kuzuryu quickly looked him up and down. “I'll prove it to you.”

The diminutive blonde walked up to Hajime, glancing between him and Kuwata. Apparently deciding that they were close enough in height, he looked up into Hajime's face. “What’s your name?”

Blinking in surprise, the intern replied, “Uh… Hajime Hinata…”

Kuzuryu nodded in acknowledgement. “Hinata. Okay. Run this scene with me real quick.”

Hajime was shocked. “W-What? But… I'm not an actor…”

“Doesn't matter,” the blonde replied, waving his hand dismissively. “That's even better, actually. I'm just trying to prove a point.”

Kuwata gritted his teeth. “Fuck you, man.” Still, he obligingly stepped off to the side.

A script seemed to come out of nowhere, being shoved into Hajime's hands. The director, Sonia, cheerfully told him which page to turn to, and then where to stand.

Completely out of his depth, Hajime looked helplessly between the others before taking his place in the scene.

Sonia went back to her chair to watch as Kuzuryu resumed his own spot. “I'm going to start with the monologue again, okay? You just say the bit after that and then kiss me, got it?”

Hajime blushed brightly, but tried to force it down. “Uh, got it.”

Clearing his throat, Kuzuryu once again began reciting his monologue. Seeing him perform up close like this felt totally different, and Hajime felt himself getting swept up in the scene. When the blonde man stepped closer, Hajime instinctively put a hand on his waist. Kuzuryu seemed surprised, but kept going.

The actor finished his line and looked up at Hajime expectantly. Hajime swallowed hard and glanced at the script in his hand. Putting as much feeling into it as he could, he recited his part before meeting Kuzuryu’s eyes. He tucked the script under his arm, cupped the blonde's cheek, and leaned down.

When their lips touched, Hajime felt a strange little jolt, almost like a spark. He chose not to focus on that, though, instead giving all of his attention to the kiss. His lips pressed against Kuzuryu's, both of them tilting their heads to allow their mouths to slot together. The shorter man's lips parted and Hajime, caught up in the moment, slipped his tongue into his mouth. Kuzuryu made a soft noise, somewhere between surprised and pleased.

They kissed for a long moment, mouths moving together naturally. The hand Hajime had on Kuzuryu's waist slid around his back, pulling their bodies flush against each other. Kuzuryu moaned quietly, bracing his hands on Hajime's chest.

Finally, the blonde pulled back, and the two of them gazed into each other's eyes. Hajime's skin felt electric, and he desperately wanted to kiss him again.

Someone off to the side clapped, breaking the spell, and both of them whipped around to face the director. “That looked amazing!” Sonia beamed. “Hajime, how would you like to be in my movie?”

The offer completely caught Hajime off guard. He glanced back at Kuzuryu, who stepped out of his arms. “Uh… I mean… Is that really okay?”

“What the fuck?!” Kuwata demanded, stomping over. “You can't just give him my part-”

“I can and I will,” Sonia declared, her tone leaving no room to argue. “What do you say, Hajime?”

Feeling a jolt of excitement, Hajime nodded. “S-Sure… I'd love to!”

The redheaded actor stormed off, but Hajime found his attention commanded by Kuzuryu, who was idly touching his own lips with his fingertips. When he noticed Hajime staring, he stopped, giving the taller man a confident smile.

“Welcome to showbiz,” he teased. Hajime couldn't help smiling back.

***

Never in a million years would Hajime have expected to be good at acting, but apparently he was. Sonia was thrilled with his performance, and Fuyuhiko (he had insisted Hajime use his first name) seemed to approve, as well.

And that was good, because Hajime would've given anything to keep the role. Playing opposite Fuyuhiko in such romantic scenes was intoxicating, not to mention the electric feeling he got whenever they kissed. Even if it was just for the movie, Hajime was going to treasure every second.

He wasn't entirely sure how Fuyuhiko felt about it, though. The blonde would often look at him strangely, especially after kissing scenes. He was generally pretty easy to get along with, though, once Hajime got past his grumpy exterior.

After a long day of filming, during which there had been a particularly steamy kiss that left Hajime's lips tingling, Fuyuhiko approached him. “Hey, you've been doing really well,” he told Hajime, expression neutral. “But there's still a couple of places I think you can improve. Wanna run lines in my dorm?”

Hajime's eyebrows shot up. He certainly never would've expected Fuyuhiko to ask him to go anywhere, let alone his own room. “Oh, sure. Thanks.”

He followed Fuyuhiko back to the dorms, noting how much nicer his room was than Hajime's. There was enough space for a sofa and a table, in addition to all of the bedroom furniture. Fuyuhiko sat on the couch and gestured for him to do the same.

The blonde looked at him critically, but said nothing. Feeling nervous, Hajime offered a smile. “Thanks for helping me out. I've never acted before, so I'm happy for any pointers you can give me.”

Fuyuhiko was silent a moment longer before finally speaking. “Yeah… Happy to help.”

Hajime furrowed his brow. “Um, is something wrong?”

The actor sighed and leaned against the arm of the sofa. “Look, I kinda had an ulterior motive asking you here.”

Immediately, Hajime's heart sank. This was it, Fuyuhiko was going to tell him he was actually awful, tell him to quit or just straight up fire him - could he do that?

His panicked thoughts were interrupted when Fuyuhiko spoke again. “When we… kiss,” he began cautiously, “do you ever feel anything… weird?”

Hajime's eyes widened. “...Yeah, actually.”

Fuyuhiko looked at him, seeming surprised even though he was the one who brought it up. “You do?”

Nodding, Hajime considered all the on-screen kisses they had shared. “I always feel kinda tingly… electric, maybe. Like-”

“-Sparks,” Fuyuhiko finished for him.

“...Yeah.”

They stared at each other for a long moment. “That's the feeling I get, too,” the blonde told him quietly. “I just wanted to find out… if it was just me, I guess.”

Hajime licked his lips nervously. “What do you think it means?”

Fuyuhiko shrugged. “I don't know.” He paused. “...Maybe it would help us figure it out if we kissed right now.”

The brunette looked at him in shock. Fuyuhiko wasn't facing him, cheeks flushed, and Hajime felt his heartbeat speed up. Finally, he nodded. “Sure, if, uh… If you're okay with it.”

The smaller man slowly turned to look at him, cheeks rosier than ever. “Of course I'm okay with it, dumbass. I suggested it.” Despite his words, he still sounded unsure.

But if he said he was fine, Hajime certainly wasn't going to pass up a chance to kiss him in private.

Hajime scooted closer on the couch, not breaking eye contact. He slowly leaned in, giving Fuyuhiko ample time to change his mind. He was apparently taking too long for the blonde, however, and Fuyuhiko lunged forward, crashing their mouths together.

The kiss was a lot more aggressive than any of their on-screen kisses, but Hajime still felt that familiar tingle. After a moment, he pulled back.

“Sparks,” he breathed.

Fuyuhiko studied his face nervously. “What the fuck does it mean, though? Maybe we should-”

He was cut off as Hajime moved in and kissed him again. This time he parted his lips, carefully licking Fuyuhiko's bottom lip. The blonde made a soft noise, but opened his mouth, allowing Hajime access. As soon as their tongues met, he felt more sparks, exploding across his skin and behind his eyes.

It seemed like Fuyuhiko felt it, too, because he threw his arms around Hajime's neck and pulled him closer. Hajime obligingly wrapped his arms around the other man's waist, kissing him deeply.

After several minutes of passionate kissing, Fuyuhiko pulled back, panting. “Holy shit,” he murmured. “Why does that feel so good?”

“What do you think it would feel like if I kissed you somewhere else?” Hajime heard himself ask.

The blonde's eyes widened, but he didn't move away. Instead, he slowly tilted his head to one side, baring his neck invitingly. Hajime only took a second to be flustered by the situation before leaning in and kissing Fuyuhiko's neck.

The tingle in Hajime's lips was less noticeable than it had been when he kissed Fuyuhiko's mouth, but apparently the effect it was having on the smaller man was much more dramatic.

Fuyuhiko let out a soft moan as Hajime pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses along his neck. “Fuck,” he gasped. “Ngh, that feels fuckin' amazing…!”

Encouraged by his partner's moans, Hajime kissed slowly up his neck, paying special attention to the sensitive spot just below his ear. He kissed Fuyuhiko's ear, as well, tracing his tongue along the shell before sucking gently on his earlobe.

The blonde moaned and squirmed, hands fisted in the front of Hajime's shirt. “S-Stop…!”

Immediately, Hajime stopped what he was doing and sat up, breathing heavily. “Uh, sorry… Was that too much?”

Fuyuhiko didn't answer, instead pushing Hajime against the back of the couch and climbing into his lap. He straddled the shocked man, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes. “Kiss me again, you bastard.”

Hajime didn't need to be told twice. He dove in, kissing Fuyuhiko deeply, arms wrapping around him and pulling their bodies flush together. The blonde gave a pleased moan, throwing his arms around Hajime's neck and pressing himself closer.

In this position, Hajime could feel the bulge in Fuyuhiko's pants, and he was unsurprised to realize that he was just as hard. He was surprised when the smaller man began grinding against him, sending waves of pleasure through both of them. Hajime gasped into the kiss and rolled his hips to meet Fuyuhiko.

After several minutes of desperate making out and grinding, Fuyuhiko pulled back, grasping the collar of Hajime's shirt. “Hah… That feels fuckin' incredible…” He rocked his hips again, moaning at the sensation.

The taller man hummed in agreement, leaning in to kiss his neck again. Hajime relished every gasp and moan he drew from Fuyuhiko's lips, nipping at the sensitive skin. The whole situation seemed unreal, but he was still going to enjoy it to the fullest, cupping Fuyuhiko's ass and rutting hard against him.

Biting his lip, Fuyuhiko pulled away just enough to get Hajime to meet his eyes. The brunette couldn't help thinking how beautiful he looked, with his flushed cheeks and kiss-bruised lips. He was so enamored that he barely registered when Fuyuhiko spoke.

“...I want to feel more,” the blonde told him, almost shyly. “I want you to touch me more.”

Hajime couldn't believe his ears. Never in a million years would he have expected a hot, talented person like Fuyuhiko to be interested in someone like him. Still, he knew better than to question his good fortune.

Lunging back in, Hajime kissed the other man roughly. Fuyuhiko didn't seem to mind, kissing back with equal ferocity. Hajime pulled his partner tightly against him before slipping one hand under the waistband of Fuyuhiko's pants, sliding down to cup his bare ass.

The blonde moaned encouragingly, raising his hips, urging Hajime further. The taller man took the hint, sliding his fingers along the cleft of Fuyuhiko's ass, down to his entrance. He stroked the puckered opening, causing the man in his arms to gasp and break their kiss.

“Fuck,” Fuyuhiko breathed, gazing at Hajime with half-lidded eyes. “Just you touching me feels so fuckin' good…”

Hajime smiled slightly, rubbing more firmly against Fuyuhiko's hole. “Yeah?” he purred, feeling a sense of confidence he had never felt before. “I bet it'd feel even better with my fingers inside you.” Heat rose in his face at how forward he was being, but he didn't back down.

Fuyuhiko licked his lips seductively, draping his arms over Hajime's shoulders and arching his back to give him easier access. “Mmn, I bet it would.”

Breathing heavily, Hajime pulled his hand out of Fuyuhiko's pants just long enough to shove his fingers into his mouth and coat them with saliva. He quickly slipped his hand back under the fabric, trailing down Fuyuhiko's ass to rub slick fingertips against his hole. Watching his partner's reaction, he slid one finger inside.

The blonde's mouth fell open soundlessly, but he didn't look uncomfortable, so Hajime pushed a second finger into him, pressing in deep. Fuyuhiko's eyelashes fluttered and he moaned low in his throat. “Holy shit,” he breathed.

Hajime paused. “Is this okay?”

Golden eyes fixed him with a smoldering gaze. “It feels fucking amazing. Don't you dare stop!”

Biting his lip, Hajime gently slid his fingers in and out, pleased when another breathy moan escaped from Fuyuhiko's throat. Hajime slowly pumped his digits into the other man, watching the way he squirmed and whined.

The taller man swallowed hard. He didn't really have experience doing anything like this, so he was mostly just going off of what he had seen in porn or heard from his friends. It seemed like he was doing a good job, though, with the way Fuyuhiko was moaning and clenching around his fingers.

After a moment, the blonde grasped Hajime's face between his hands, trying to look at him seriously even though he was still being fingered open. “H-Hajime,” he started hoarsely, “I, mmn… I want you… I want you to fuck me.”

Hajime tried to ignore the way his heart leapt into his throat. “...Are you sure?”

Fuyuhiko gasped and rocked back against Hajime's hand. “Hah… Of course I'm sure. With how fuckin' good everything else feels… ahh… I have to know what your cock feels like…”

Letting out a shuddered breath, Hajime felt his erection strain against his pants. “God, I want to know what you feel like, too…”

“So fuck me!” Fuyuhiko moaned, hips bucking.

And god, Hajime wanted to fuck him. Unfortunately, his nerves were still getting the best of him. He decided it was probably better to just confess. “...I, um… I want to, I've just never… done this before,” he said lamely.

Fuyuhiko looked at him in surprise. “What? Then how the fuck are you so good at - mmn~!” He cut off with a sweet moan as Hajime's fingers brushed his prostate.

The brunette shivered as the other man squeezed tight around his fingers. He groaned softly, watching his partner's face. “...Just tell me what to do,” he told him quietly.

Licking his lips, Fuyuhiko reached back and pulled Hajime's fingers out of him. He stood up, looking appraisingly at the tent in Hajime's pants. “Hurry up and get your dick out.”

As Hajime scrambled to comply, Fuyuhiko made his way over to his nightstand, pulling out a bottle of lube. He returned to the couch, excitement flashing in his eyes as he caught sight of Hajime's exposed cock.

“Damn,” he chuckled, handing the lube to his flustered partner. Fuyuhiko began shedding his own clothes, undressing completely, much to Hajime's surprise. He climbed back into the taller man's lap, straddling him once more.

Hajime quickly poured some of the lubricant into his hand and began rubbing it over his cock, trying not to get too caught up. Having Fuyuhiko completely nude in his lap while he was still fully clothed was weirdly sexy, and he couldn't wait to finally be inside of the smaller man.

After only a moment, Fuyuhiko batted Hajime's hand away and took hold of his erection. He positioned it beneath him and slowly began lowering himself. The first touch of Hajime's cock against his hole had both of them gasping, an electric feeling running across their skin. Fuyuhiko bit his lip and lowered himself further, allowing the tip to breach his entrance.

The taller man dug his fingers into Fuyuhiko's hips, trembling with pleasure already. Something about the touch of the other man's skin was sending sparks through his entire body. As his cock slowly slid inside, the feeling only got more intense. Tight heat engulfed his cock and his whole body felt like it was on fire, but in the most euphoric way.

Fuyuhiko didn't stop moving until he was fully seated on Hajime's cock, breathless moans pouring from his lips already. “Holy fuck…!” he whined, muscles clenching and unclenching reflexively, making Hajime hiss. “S-So… So fuckin' big, so fuckin' good…!” He rocked his hips as he adjusted, making both of them moan.

Hajime was already completely overwhelmed. The feeling of being inside Fuyuhiko was incredibly intense and he couldn't keep himself from bucking up into him, making his partner cry out. “Sorry,” he breathed, but he was still pulling Fuyuhiko's hips down hard against his own.

Thankfully, Fuyuhiko seemed to be just as eager for more. He carefully raised himself up, almost to the tip of Hajime's cock, before sliding back down. A pleased purr left his throat and he repeated the action, this time slamming himself down roughly.

The blonde started up a slow rhythm, bouncing in Hajime's lap and coming down hard. Both of them gasped and moaned at the sensation, hungry for more.

“Fuck, Fuyuhiko,” Hajime panted, watching the other man's face. “You feel amazing…”

Fuyuhiko met his gaze, not slowing his pace at all. “Mmn, so do you…!” He bit his lip as Hajime's cock brushed against his sweet spot.

“God, you look so fucking good like this,” Hajime murmured, feeling almost delirious from the pleasure. “You're so fucking beautiful, so tight around my cock, so-”

His rambling was cut short when Fuyuhiko lunged forward and kissed him. Hajime wasn't complaining, happily kissing back as his partner rode him harder. He rocked his hips up to meet each of Fuyuhiko's movements, making both of them gasp and moan.

After a moment, Fuyuhiko broke the kiss with a loud cry. He had found exactly the right angle, causing Hajime's cock to hit his sweet spot with every bounce. The blonde arched his back, moaning sweetly as his lover's cock slid even deeper inside.

“Mmn, Hajime~” Fuyuhiko purred, burying one hand in Hajime's hair and looking into his eyes. “You're gonna fuckin' cum in me, right~?”

Hajime nodded obediently. “Hah… Fuck, yes…!”

The smaller man gave a pleased chuckle, muscles clenching around his partner. He leaned forward to nip at Hajime's lower lip. “And you're gonna cum hard, right~? Fill me up~?”

Again, Hajime moaned his agreement. “Please!”

Fuyuhiko slammed himself down harder with every bounce, feeling his climax rapidly approaching. He reached down to stroke his own cock, gasping and moaning. “Ngh…! Fuck, Hajime… I'm so fuckin' close, mmn…!”

“Me, too,” Hajime breathed. He leaned in, pressing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses against Fuyuhiko's throat as he bucked into him. His body felt like it was on fire and the only cure was the gorgeous blonde bouncing in his lap.

With a loud cry, Fuyuhiko finally reached his peak, slamming himself down and grinding onto Hajime's cock. He moaned hoarsely as his inner muscles fluttered around his partner and he spilled over his own fingers.

Hajime was right behind him, bucking desperately into him as he toppled over the edge. Fireworks exploded behind his eyes and he bit down on Fuyuhiko's neck. He buried himself as deeply as possible, filling his lover with his seed.

The two of them collapsed against the back of the couch, holding each other tightly. They were both breathing heavily, gazing into each other's eyes as they tried to get their thoughts in order. It took several minutes for either of them to form words.

“...Wow,” Hajime panted, still grasping Fuyuhiko's hips.

The blonde huffed out a quiet laugh. “Yeah… wow.”

Smiling softly, Hajime tried to formulate another thought. “So, uh… Sparks?”

Fuyuhiko leaned his head against his partner's shoulder. “Still don't know what it means, but… yeah. Sparks.”

���I think,” the brunette began slowly, “it means that there's… something special between us. Don't you think so?” He looked at the other man, eyes hopeful.

It took a moment for Fuyuhiko to respond. “...Yeah. I think you're right.”

Hajime felt his heart leap into his throat. “Yeah?”

The blonde slowly lifted his head, meeting Hajime's gaze. His face was flushed, but he looked determined. “...I like you. The whole reason I wanted to test the whole ‘sparks’ thing was because I like you. And now… I'm sure.” He shifted his weight, reminding them both that Hajime was still inside of him. “Mmn… Be my dumbass boyfriend,” he murmured shyly.

Hajime's heart was pounding, and he immediately lunged in to kiss the man in his arms, feeling ecstatic. Between kisses, he managed to reply, “I like you, too… Of course I'll be your boyfriend.”

Fuyuhiko hummed happily, kissing him back. The two of them stayed entwined on the couch for a while longer, just kissing and muttering words of affection.

Hopefully that was worth the wait?? IDK anymore. I liked it.