#anyways look at this fucking slouch. i want him.

[orcelito]

im going to chew on him

[funderberker-thefrog]

currently fabiancore

[starry-bi-sky]

MOVING THIS TO RBS bc i have my laptop and can actually give a longer response now. >:]. And man where do I start. Mmmmmm.

When Danny finds out he's a clone is v v important to me because in clone^2 he acquires Lil Damian after finding out he's Bruce Wayne's clone (rather than Batman's) and it offers a lot of weight and introspection to their relationship, but I also want to follow your post's canon. MMMM. I'm putting a pin in it for now bc im running circles around in my own head, and deciding for now that Danny knew he was a clone before he and Kon started dating, and waited to tell him because being a clone is very personal to him, and it's not something he tells just anyone. Only his close circle of friends and family know he's a clone, so him telling Kon was a huge show of trust and vulnerability.

Also, for no other reason than I think it's hysterical, but when Kon tells Tim about his boyfriend being Batman's clone, he has no idea about Damian. He knows Danny has a little brother he adores, but they've never met and Damian isn't really that rare of a name.

That's because Danny's pretty secure (most of the time) in the knowledge that nobody will piece together that he's a clone regardless of if he knows he's Bruce's/Batman's clone, since A (if he knows he's Bruce's clone): the current general public know Bruce Wayne as a he is currently; a well-dressed man in his late thirties-early forties with a Captain America build (among other things), and Danny is a 17-18-ish year old boy with a sleeper build and long hair and a preferred fashion of "baggy alternative that forces people of all kind to question their sexuality"

(Genderfluid danny for the WIN)

and B (if he knows he's Batman's clone): nobody knows what tf Batman looks like.

Baby Dames is a whole other story, since Damian Wayne is in the public eye quite often, Danny thinks Dames is at a bigger risk of getting recognized despite being significantly younger than his template. Which means he's a bit more protective/wary about introducing him to people, although they've been lucky so far.

Danny introduces Kon to Damian about a week or so after telling him about being a clone, Kon's positive reaction to the reveal gave Danny the confidence and security to introduce him to Damian. He doesn't outright state Damian is also a clone, but Kon connects the dots instantly upon meeting him, but is smart enough to keep mum about it.

ALSO, to switch gears again, I love the implication here (to me at least) that Tim knows about Danny, but hasn't quite met him yet. I think he'd clock Danny being a clone pretty quickly (not instantly, but quickly) due to the sheer amount of research/stalking he went into with Bruce. Iirc he even knew what kind of paintings he liked, so I think he'd definitely (even if its eventually) recognize a younger Bruce Wayne in Danny.

Like, oh, yeah, his best friend is dating some guy from the Midwest and Kon's probably told him everything under the sun about Danny -- like how he does this cute little grunt when you catch his attention, and that he has a habit of chewing on the end of his pen or thumb nail when he's lost in thought, and he scrunches up his brows sometimes when he's confused, and he has a smile that could light up a whole room, and eyes as bright as glaciers, and -- and it's to the point that Tim probably knows everything about the guy and they've never even met.

He doesn't even bother looking him up, because damn, he already knows what Danny looks like just from Kon's description alone. The one time he decides not to be an obsessive little freak and it comes around to bite him in the ass, because Danny is apparently a clone of Bruce. He finally goes and looks him up and goddamn, the similarities are right there. He even has Bruce's goofy-ass bat-wing shaped eyebrows.

How did this go under the radar for so long.

AND -- because the ADHD is hitting and i'm hopping topics like a mallet in whack-a-mole -- the meetcute. Obsessed with thinking about how Kon and Danny met, and imo the only appropriate (/j) way is that it was as mutually civilians. Except I wanna explore the concept, so instead of it being a coffeeshop meetcute, it's something else.

Danny is in Metropolis with his family for something and was exploring the city during the rare few moments he's alone, and it's very important to me and only me to mention that he's been having a rough go of it lately. Just the new-usual and monthly identity crisis, so he's gone and stuck more holes in his ears. With the added bonus of a brand spanking new eyebrow piercing and lip piercing. If he doesn't like it, he can just take them out and let them heal.

Anyways, he's standing at a stoplight and waiting for the crosswalk to go, Kon was standing next to him and they were relatively ignoring each other. They're standing at a corner with relatively low traffic, and the crosswalk lights up. What happens is that Kon is walking somewhat in front of Danny, when a car comes veering around the corner. It's going fast enough that it would've most certainly hit Kon, if he weren't half-kryptonian.

And also if it weren't for the fact that Danny is faster. Before Kon can dive out of the way of the oncoming speeder, an arm snakes around his waist and he's yanked back and onto the ground. Seconds later, the car whizzes past, a hairsbreadth away from Kon's feet.

"Shit." He says without thinking, slack-jawed and shocked for multiple reasons, and he continues to not think as he tacks on; "Good reflexes."

He turns to look at his supposed savior, and sees a boy with long, dark lashes and even longer hair, pretty blue eyes, and propping himself up on his elbow. The boy gives him a sarcastic smile, "Thanks," he says, "made them myself. You alright?"

"Just peachy." Kon manages to get out, and watches the boy unwrap his arm from around his waist and get up, and then thinks to get up himself.

"You'd think that guy was being chased by the Bat himself." The boy quips dryly, brushing himself off. "He's in the wrong city for that, Gotham is the next storm cloud over."

Kon snorts, and somehow manages to get the pretty boy's name and number, offering to show him the best places in Metropolis as repayment for "saving" him. The rest is history. They start out friends, and only start dating half a year later. Kon was visiting Metropolis to visit Clark and Lois, and heads back to Smallville after he's done -- which is fortunate. Because it's about five hours closer to Illinois than Metropolis, which makes popping by Amity Park to see Danny occasionally just a liitttle bit easier.

Over 900 prompt

Okay I love the Danny is a clone of Batman aus but I've never seen this done.

Danny and Kon dating and Then Danny learning his parents cloned Batman thinking he is a ghost only to find out he isn't and kept Danny as their kid.

Just think of the hilarious reactions

Caue this immediately popped into my head.

Kon: *muffled screaming into Tim's couch*

Tim: ....you good?

Kon: danny is the clone of Batman

Tim: ...

Kon: I'm the clone of Superman

Tim:...

Kon: AND WE ARE DATING!

[screampied]

#OOHMAMI! g. suguru

☆ sum. cuban link, diamond cross—you’re a big fan of suguru geto, the top street racer in tokyo. he doesn’t wanna win any more races, he wants to win you this time. keep at it and he might have to fuck you on the highway.

wc. 5.7k

warnings. fem! reader, street racer! geto, pwp, unprotected, suguru has a (dick) piercing / tats, semi-public, riding, brief ōral (f! receiving), you get eaten out his window lol, overstim, dirty talk, praise, size kink, impact play, petnames, drive safe, continuation here :)

an. chase atlantic inspired me ¯\_(ᵕ—ᴗ—)_/¯

“you, yeah you. wanna ride?”

stop thinking dirty, stop thinking dir—

you stop dead in your tracks, hearing the deafening vrooming of a certain nissan skyline gtr along with a raspy deep voice. you knew that voice, in fact you’d be a fool not to recognize the voice of the suguru geto, infamous street racer who’s won more races around the world than you could count. he’s got a big hand on the steering wheel with his dark purple helmet cracked open. growing pathetically sheepish, you could barely get any words out before you start to feel your feet gradually dragging toward his rumbling car.

“really?” you mumble, barely even pressed up against his tinted window and you could smell his loud rich cologne from there. you couldn’t help but fangirl—and oh, did he look so much better in person. geto’s got pretty long tresses of black hair that’s usually down, but in every race it’s always pinned back. a few loose strands run down his face, peeking out of his helmet and his glove grips tightly against his bedazzled steering wheel that had ‘s. geto’ carved into the material as it flawlessly spiraled around the wheel.

“reaaally,” he tauntingly repeats your word, cocking his head to get a better look at you. you could smell the thick puffed smoke that weeps out of his silvery flashy tailpipes and he hums. slouching back against his seat manspread, his foot eases off from the break and you watch as the flashy racer’s seat flies open on its on, and you step in. “i take it you’re here to see the race?”

no, no you weren’t.

you couldn’t lie to yourself—you were here to see the race, but you were to here to see geto also. you’ve only seen him during his interviews, magazines, and sometimes on tv where his races would be broadcasted for the entire world to see.

but, you managed to snag enough money to actually see him in the flesh.

without a second thought you make your way inside. on the inside, you were screaming. you were currently living every one of his fangirl’s dream. immediately once you sit down, you’re surrounded by the balmy welcoming warmth of his beloved str. you assumed it was an older model but he made it work anyway — it had cushioned seats with blaring speakers and oh, the smell . . it’s almost as if the vehicle had a signature cologne scent of its self. it’s really masculine and it makes your thighs squeeze together once you recline back a bit. his seats warmed up your backside automatically and you glance around the rest of the car, taking in its glitzy beauty.

it’s pretty, you’ve only seen pictures. ogling near his rear view mirror, you see fuzzy dice dangling as he’s adjusting it. the rest of the cars usually gathered near the meet up spot before the race actually starts.

“she’s pretty, isn’t she?” geto snickers, noticing you gawking at the inside of his car.

indeed, you heard about how geto built this entire thing from scratch. before doing street racing as a little side hustling hobby, he used to be a mechanic. a well known one, but that wasn’t as fun as actually racing.

geto tosses an arm behind the head rest of your seat, preparing to go in reverse. “had her for about two years. haven’t lose a match, since.”

“not one?” you murmur, wanting to call his bluff. sure, you’ve never seen anyone covering him losing a match but that was a bit hard to believe.

“doubtin’ me, sweetheart?” he rasps, and you feel the rough jittering of the car. geto’s backing up safely, curving his wheel briefly to drive out of one of his many garages.

sweetheart, you don’t know why but that single pet name had you feeling hot for a moment. once your eyes dart back toward him for a split second, you spot a toothpick sticking out from the corner of his crooked lips. he’s so pretty — he’s got a natural smirk that’s tugging against the corners of his lips. as he starts to drive toward the starting point for the highly anticipated race, a gloved thumb taps against his furry steering glimmering wheel. with a low hum, he glances at you. “seatbelt, silly girl.”

shit, you snap on your seat belt moments later and notice even his signature’s all over his seatbelt covers. ‘suguru geto’ in bright bold letters.

drafty air wafts against your skin as he’s still creating distance with just a few miles. once he reaches near the starting line, you hear his foot tapping against the break.

one, two, three . . three, two, one . . he’s bored.

geto positions his rear view mirror for the millionth time before noticing you zeroing your eyes at his gear shift that glistens from the dozens of rhinestones that glue against the cover. countless diamonds stick up and down the leather skin of the handle and it’s so pretty.

“hold on, sweetheart,” geto purrs, his eyes slowly locking onto the flagger that’s stood in front of the row of cars.

geto’s still got a firm hand gripped onto his wheel, his right foot just barely hovering over the gas. come on, he just wanted to get it over with. you could almost smell the competitiveness dripping from his body.

it was intense, you could almost feel the anticipation as if you were in the driver’s seat. the tall woman that’s dressed in nothing but sheer black carries a hefty checked flag, swaying it in the air every few seconds. as she safely spaces herself between the cars, she does it two more times and you realize it’s almost time for take off.

the cars that were lined up beside and next to geto start to rev their engines and so does he. it’s a roaring groan, and his rousing wheels burn into the hardened cement, his gold pipes coughing up clouds of purple smoke. geto gives his wheel one more tap with his thumb before glancing at you with a cunning grin. “lie back, i take off pretty fast, heh.”

and he wasn’t kidding.

the moment the flagger does a final up-down sway motion with the flag, all race cars accelerate quickly past the starting point. you sink back into the plushy seat as he meanly yanks back his stick shift.

his engine’s loud, and within seconds he’s already in the lead. it’s like he wasn’t even trying. frantic turbo spits through his rusted pipes and you can feel his car speedily pass through each poor vehicle that tries to get in his way.

vroooooom, he’s flying by each checkpoint and you could almost smell the adrenaline that’s coursing through his pulsating veins.

the thrill . .

you felt it all ghost through your own veins, feeling the frigid air roaming through his vents tickle against the hairs that stand up on your arms. geto makes a few sharp turns, keeping an eye on the time every so often. his personal best was around five minutes and seventy-seven seconds. with a coarse grip, he’s tilting his steering wheel while the thunder of his engine growls louder and louder within each whizzing mile.

over time though—you can’t help but be a bit nosy. your eyes shift toward the racer and god, you’re just now noticing how handsome he was.

geto usually wore sweats along with his street gear. he didn’t have to wear his helmet but he preferred it just in case. its all black with a splash of purple—you can see his signature lazily signed near the very top. outlined beside his name was a curling design of smoke. the part where he sees through was all darkly tinted so you could hardly see his face unless you squinted or he took it off.

it’s like it added more to his appeal in a way. he sat manspread and doing so, it gave you a one way ticket to stare straight down at his barely hidden bulge.

fuck, your mind started to ponder. you had so many unanswered questions. isn’t it painful driving around that hard—

“hey,” your raunchy thoughts get rudely interrupted and you don’t even realize how many minutes had passed from you being cooped up in your own lewd fantasm. geto’s driving a bit slower now, around sixty mph instead of his usual two hundred. he’s way in the lead, first place. one hand’s lazily on the steering wheel and he fakes a yawn.

oh he’s cocky.

with a quick glance out his mirror, he knew the other cars were far behind him and he now starts drifting near the freeway. with an intrigued hum, he notices just exactly what you were staring at. his lap. “don’t tell me this was the ride you thought i meant, sweetheart.”

“i—”

it’s like his cologne got louder.

you choked on your words, wondering if you were hearing right. suguru, the suguru geto was flirting with you?

and the thing that got you the most was that he wasn’t even looking at you anymore—every few seconds, you’d lock eyes against him near the ear view mirror, feeling hot once his eyes slowly rove down your figure through his dark tinted helmet.

not only was his cologne loud but so were your thoughts—shamelessly, you did think he was referring to that kind of ride minutes earlier.

and the more you stared at his hardened bulge through his grey sweats, the more you started to think. .

but, little did you know your dirty wish would be granted.

not even a few moment later, you’d find yourself fucked - literally.

geto positions you on his lap, halfway pulling down his loose sweats just so you could ride something else entirely.

instead of riding just his car — you rode his dick, and fuck was he just ridiculously big.

too big, and he knows it. geto groans once he’s buried full inside, lodging his thick cock in between your slimy gummy walls. “shit,” he’d hiss, his head occasionally tossing back once the ring piercing that’s stuck on his tip tap tap tap’s away against your precious g-spot. it swirls all around the inside of your cunt and your thighs struggled to stay open. it tickles, but you were far from laughing. he’s so big, easily rearranging your insides and be barely even had to move a muscle.

he’s ruthless - but your hips were even more ruthless though, far more.

geto knew all too well that this was dangerous—just one swerve from the swerving stimulation of bodies smacking against his and game fucking over.

you moan, burying your face into his neck as your hips continue to move against him. he’s still burning gas as your cunt’s just merrily drooling all down his length from each slapping thrust.

belatedly, your brows furrow, almost forgetting why you even showed up to this event. well, part of why you came. “f- fuck, what about t- the race?” you speak in a breathy tone, your tempo becoming more and more relentless. the salaciously enticing jerk of your unsteady hips gradually turn into rough unstable bounces and he kisses his teeth. geto feels the convulsing veins that run down his cock pulse right through him and between your walls, you feel it too.

“oh, sweetheart,” he huffs, his back of his helmet hitting against his headrest. looking at you with hazy hooded eyes, he flashes you a sleazy grin. “technically, i already won,” and you gasp, feeling him reach a gloved hand down between your rickety thighs. his touch was so gentle, you felt yourself shuddering from both twin digits that drag further down your chest. he cups one of your bouncing tits that pop out of your tank top, brushing a thumb against your sensitive nipple. “god, what a pretty fuckin’ body. look at you girl,” and he’s still got a hand on the steering wheel.

a trembling whimper dies out your throat at the feeling of his swollen fat cockhead vigorously thrusting in and out of your dribbling entrance.

you’re just so soaked. it’s like you can’t help but be sopping wet on his lap and he loves it. sloshes of sobs echo out of your pussy and your legs pathetically quaver directly on top of him.

both of you groan in complete unison and a big hand of his creeps further down, giving your ass a teasing squeeze. “fuuucck, reel those nasty hips. ride it baby, ride me, yeah,” and you hear the grumbling revs of his engine ring against your ears louder. it makes the entire car shake a bit despite him pushing down a few miles. with widened dewy eyes staring at the back of his car, you squint, seeing dozens of cars trying to catch up to geto.

they didn’t have a chance,

they looked like tiny splotching dots in the far distance. geto even had the audacity to not do his usual speed and yet he was still dusting the other racers.

typical.

“s- suguru,” you whine, the undersides of your thighs sticking against him. each time you bounced back on his cock, each ruthless ‘pap pap pap’ of your skin mashing against his and the clingy recoil never fails to leave you brain dead for a few seconds. he’s so thick. you swivel your hips around him, gasping every time his dick piercing scrapes against your clit. the cold material makes a good portion of your thighs quake and you can’t help but coo out a few sweet ‘ooh’ or ‘ah’s right next to the shell of his ear. your panties were lazily shoved to the side and he didn’t even bother taking them off.

yet.

“so fuckin’ big, shiiiit.” you’d whimper, trying to swerve your way all around him. he’s just too big, you were even surprised he fit. you had to go down slow, aligning yourself against him — every few seconds his cock would pop out of you, making that cute squelch sound that makes his suck his teeth in annoyance.

“mhm, ‘n you’re takin’ it so well. you’re a big girl, fuckin’ take it,” he rasps in a hushed tone, nipping a few teeth near the inside of your neck. his helmet along with his toothpick ends up falling near the side of his seat with a loud thud.

your hips were killer.

unlike any opponent he’s had to go up against. you’re happily squeezing around him like a vice, taking in his curved inches like a champ. “f- fuck, who taught you how ‘ta ride? heh, tryna give me a run for my money, hm pretty?”

your whiny moans only pitch louder once he grips a nice chunk of your ass with one hand, peering at his bedazzled dash. the speed was a bit over one fifty now but it didn’t even feel like it.

“ugh, ‘m gonna cum,” you gasp, growing more and more dumb the faster you bounced on his heavy throbbing cock. his peeling sack hangs from underneath and he’s so swollen, you feel it.

maddened angry balls entirely reddened and puffed up from the delicious stimulation. with every sharp pull of your hips bouncing up and down, he feels himself shriveling — he’s so sensitive inside of you, and he can almost taste his own pleasure. whilst you continue to twirl your ass around in rotation for him, you couldn’t help but shamelessly salivate at the thought of imagining just how full he might be.

“sugu—fuuuckk,” and a bead of sweat races down the side of your face. geto’s primarily focusing on the road, it’s an easy straight shot and with how it was practically the middle of the night it wasn’t that many cars except for the one’s participating in the annual street races.

“bet you are. sloppy girl,” he huffs, groaning at the echoing loud smacks of your ass. you’re mercilessly clamping down his lap over and over, preparing to gush all over the dick that’s currently nestled inside of you. he’s got such a mouth watering curve of his cock that makes your stomach twist and churn.

the kind of curve that doesn’t involve his motor vehicle, that kind.

geto’s dick knew how to do swerves on its own, it even knew how to carve an entire bumpy race track allllll through your insides with his fat pink tip. “touch yourself, pretty. gimme a show before you mess up my fuckin’ seats.”

you could hear the sass in his voice along with a drip of vex and you’d giggle if you weren’t being ruthless stuffed full of inches. “o- okay,” you breathe through clenched teeth, guiding your hands up and down your body. geto’s dark eyes stare at you intently.

he stared at the way your hands caress your pretty plump tits, feeling down the valley of your exposed chest. his eyes flicker toward you then back at the road, then at you again - he repeats it, feeling his own muscles starting to tighten through his clothing. “ngh, suguru. can’t hold—”

your addictive slams against his cock got more intense until he’s fully buried balls deep inside of your squeezing cunt. you hear the saturated plops that’s squealing out of your pussy and you can’t even believe that’s you that’s sounding like that.

your poor sweet cunt was louder than his radio, completely shrieking over some random chorus of a heavy metal song you didn’t even know was playing in the background.

“fuck, cum then. cum on me, girl,” he grunts, one hand grabbing a nice fat piece of your ass again before spanking it.

you moan, the sharp brief twinge of elation sending you a shiver that immediately sends convulses between your thighs. lewd filthy thoughts foil at your brain and pretty soon, the car steams up with steamy clouded fog.

erratic sharp breaths match each other’s pace and you’re left breathless. geto feels your legs on the verge of giving out and he snickers, bringing a gloved hand to stroke against your sopping pussy. “go on, don’t be shy. should make ya lick up the mess later anyway.”

whimpering, your release comes and fuck, a sharp scream ripples out from your throat once you’re finally coming undone on his cock. the wrinkled skin of his base continues to stick against his sack due to you bouncing against him.

it’s hot, literally.

with both plush mounds of skin harshly plummeting on top of each other, the heat of the car made it feel like the air conditioner wasn’t even on. “thaaat’s it, work those hips, goddamn,” and abruptly, he cuts off from his words after feeling his mushroom tip reach a certain spongey spot that’s buried way inside of your gripping walls.

you gasp once you feel him throb inside with a soft upward shimmy of his hips. milliseconds later, your thighs collapse down on him and you feel yourself succumbing. you’re creaming down his shaft with your slippery slick while at the very same time, struggling to catch your breath. as you weakly try to continue your grinding with your feeble knees, geto uses a single hand to quickly make a detour.

he was close.

the race car makes a swift turn to the left lane, driving a few more miles before he then turns the opposite direction — pulling over safely. with a cooing skrrrrt, his rubber tires come to a cruising stop and geto groans, gripping at his tensing bouncing thigh with his glove. the finish line was just a few feet away but he could care less.

once he puts his car in park, geto falls back into his seat with own sable dark eyes flickering back to the very depths of his skull.

you rode him good, good to the point where he doesn’t even know what to say for a hot second. blinking twice, geto smears his glossed lips together before exhaling, “phew,” and he swats another palm against your ass. black unkempt strands of hair tape against the center of forehead like glue whilst he’s finally got a good grip on your hips. “fuck, ‘m gonna cum too,” and your puffy folds continue to dribble with honeyed slick.

you’re damping his cock and the squelches you make, they were loud.

so wet and slimy. he could listen to it all day, just the sound of your sweet cunt whimpering out sweet sloshes of nothing. the overwhelming sensitivity leaves a sourly candied taste in your mouth and you whine, feeling him squeeze a hand against your right hip. with a raspy out of breath tone, he strokes a thumb underneath your quivering bottom lip. “ ‘s okay if i cum inside, pretty?”

“y- yeah, please,” you babble out in broken cries, feeling your tummy frantically heave in and out.

as he grabs your hips, steadying you—you intake a breath, remembering how many inches he was buried inside. your tummy tucks inward and you whimper, feeling him preparing to shoot pure blanks. with a size like his, geto’s cock never failed to leave its sloppy infamous mark.

you’re just marveled at how fat his tip is, it’s voluntarily french-kissing up against sweet beloved cervix that’s screaming out curses just as much as you. he’s got two hands on your veering hips, smooth fabric of his racing gloves sliding up and down your wobbly. with pouty compressed lips, you moan, bringing your hands to grab onto his shoulders. “cum, cum in me—fuck.”

geto huskily groans, tossing his head back once your hips zealously reel into him right as he gives you the final perfunctory thrust that finishes him off. immediately, he’s shooting out ribbons of hot cum that pour into you. you’re panting as he slows down, glossy eyes raking at his body. you could see a bit of his tatted sleeves peek from underneath his shirt - his tense muscles bulging.

“god, better take all of it,” he groans, pretty black lashes sticking against his droopy hooded sockets.

it spurts out slowly but surely.

globs and globs of frothy cum bubble down the swollen sides of his cock and you feel it all. it’s toasty and warm and as he’s pouring his all into you, painting your gummy walls his pristine-white color, you couldn’t help but lean in.

geto’s matching your breathy irregular pants before he feels your trembling lips crash onto his. “mmf,” he moans against your lips, tilting his head back slightly to a certain attractive degree. a hand of his reaches toward his radio, turning the middle notch all the way down just to hear the squelches of his own seed slobbering down your slick cunt.

he tastes sweet. you moan at the lingering taste of fresh cooling mint that lives on his tongue, feeling his hands tighten around your waist.

oh, he’s obsessed—

screw the race by this point, all he wanted at this moment was you.

geto’s still got such a large load that’s dumping into you raw and it even oozes down past your thighs, a few creamy droplets plopping down on his velvet seats. he grunts, both twisting tongues ferociously tangling against each other whilst your pussy’s still squeezing down on him like a vice. a glossed translucent ring forms around his base and he feels you trying to touch yourself with two curious fingers.

with a slight smack, he swats your hand away and you whine in his mouth. “heh, hands to yourself,” you pout because earlier he let you touch yourself but now, no. he teases, breaking away from the hot kiss. a stringy cobweb of saliva tears back from both lax plump lips before he playfully nibbles on your chin. geto notices how slumped out you were and a broad open hand of his crawls between your legs. “ooooh,” and he lifts you up from his swollen flaccid cock, gazing at just how much of a fill he’s pumped into you. “well look at that,” and you whimper, feeling him strum a thumb down your drooling cunt. “would be a shame if it all went to waste,” then he quirks a brow, sliding a tongue across his lips. “princess, stick your head out the window for me real quick.”

“out the wind—”

and not even seconds later, you find yourself literally being bent over, halfway hanging out of his rolled down tinted window. geto wasn’t done, at least not yet.

your sheeny glossed lips immediately part into an ‘o’ as a sweet gasp leaves your lips. with clammy hands, they grip onto the edge of his window and you whimper once he delves his long tongue inside of your cunt. your fingers gripped against the window so hard that it ends up leaving dozens of your cute fingerprints against the tinted glass.

“oh my goddd,” you babble out in elongated sweet syllables. with your pretty eyes bulging, you gasp at feeling the tip of his tongue swirl all around inside of you.

geto lowly grunts, lapping his twitching pink muscle down your runny folds back and forth. between your legs—he’s a menace, and it was no prying him off.

at all.

he doesn’t even bat an eye at the simple fact that he’s eating his own cum out of you, unapologetically savoring the bittersweet taste that lands right on his flavored tastebuds. your legs were so weak and you can feel his warm breath continuously fan against and on your sopping folds as he chuckles.

“my my, look at her. this prize’s way better than some money,” he hums, using a leather thumbed glove to swipe down your entrance. he’s slow, dragging it all the way down just to watch spurts of your slick pop onto his digit. you’re just so wet, metallic fingers of his ghost further down your clit before you whine. geto sees your cunt pulsing from the sheer thrill and he snickers, smacking a palm right against your slobbering core. “she’s fuckin’ nasty today, yeah?” and his eyes flicker toward your drooling cunt, giving it a teasing suck. “mmph, listen to her with me, gorgeous,” and one spank against your pussy turns into one, then two, then three.

growing quiet, you listen to the weeping sounds purring out of your own cunt. so loud, so shamelessly loud. you could hear it and he barely even had to touch you. you’re drenching up his seats and you couldn’t help but bite your lip, feeling your heart pound ruthlessly out your chest. his tongue knew just where to go—it’s creating a path of its own, laying flat against your clit before sucking against every tender spot. your legs were on its final hinges. you felt like they were about to snap shut. you’re staring out the window, still not seeing any cars which was good.

if anyone saw you like this, being eaten out in this kind of position, you don’t know what would happen.

geto resumes to flick his long tongue down your swollen slit, lapping up the last few droplets of his own cum that tries to dribble down the crevices of your thighs. another final swat from his mean palm sets against your clit and you let off a cute squeal, your tummy instinctively caving in. “so much back talk from a pussy this fuckin’ sloppy. oughta teach it some manners, pretty girl,” he grumbles, and your eyes blissfully roll back once you hear him starting to sluuuurp.

geto had no shame — it was decided, this was far better than any race he’s ever had.

his teeth nip near the inside corners of your thighs before he trails back to munching on your clit, burying his nose deep. “mhm,” he groans, and it only takes a few seconds before his jaw finally locks. geto reaches down, giving his cock a few solid pumps. his pretty reddened tip was angry, it still had dried spurts of cum racing from the sides and he grunts at the memory of being inside of you only just a few minutes ago. whilst his face’s shoved right between your thighs—you don’t even realize you’re trying to reach back to grab onto his hair. you’re hesitant though, and he finds it cute. departing his wet slick lips briefly, a wry grin spreads against his lips. “kinky,” the dark haired man flicks a tongue across his lips, savoring your juices that smeared against his mouth. “don’t be shy. do it,” and you moan once he teasingly whistles against your pussy, kissing against your nub. “pull my hair girl. pull.”

you give it a good yank and his head pushes forward into you—geto’s lengthy tongue dips further inside your cunt and you whimper, gnawing the inside of your stiff jaw. “fuck,” you gasp, and as his tongue gradually curls various bubbly letters inside of your pussy.

it multitasks, continuing to send your entire body a plethora of fluttering butterflies. he was so sloppy, seeping from the corners of his mouth with your slick and just your slick. his head moving side to side eagerly and every few seconds, he’s got to flick away long shaggy strands of his hair. geto’s proudly devouring you entirely whilst you’re just literally hanging out his window.

“oh, come on. harder, sweetheart. even i can do better than tha—ngh.”

with more force, you tug roughly on his pretty black strands and you heard the most sluttiest moan pour from his lips. god, he was so close that you could literally feel that infamous smug grin spread against his lips. geto brings a fat round thumb to run down your drooling cunt, giving it a ‘good job’ kiss. “atta girl. that’s my girl.”

geto ends up coaxing orgasm after orgasm out of over and over and over again.

he’s mean with his tongue, slurping everything out of you until you had no more - nothing more to coal his chin with. his favorite thing to do was to playfully bite against your clit, feeling you writhe and shiver all because of his mouth.

you end up leaving his entire chin with a pretty stream of your syrupy slick. geto’s panting, falling back after talking you through your nth orgasm, and with a peek through his rear view mirror, he spots the remaining race cars that were finally approaching the finish line.

“ah, about time,” geto rolls his eyes, sliding his lips near the corner of his chin where a bit more of your slick laid.

he acted like it was nothing, like he didn’t just have his tongue shoved inches deep inside of your cunt, stuffing his race gloved fingers in and out of you until you gushed right down his lengthy thick digits. you’re just sat on his lap, and you’re too dumb to move an inch. “heh, comfy?” he purrs, dragging his seatbelt across both stacked bodies. you fall against his chest, inhaling his signature manly scent and feel the car jolt once he puts it back in drive.

needy silence was your only reply and he tsks, resting his chin on top of your head before driving toward the finish line. it was barely even a few feet away, and waiting there was a bunch of fans that were awaiting to greet their new winner.

geto couldn’t care less though—he had you on his lap and he could already feel himself bulging again.

he found it cute how you were just clinging onto him now.

maybe you were delusional—maybe it was the fangirl in you screaming, begging for more, but your body wasn’t just begging anymore, it ached for more.

he drives you back toward the car meet up spot, helping you fix back your skirt. with wobbly legs, you step out of the flaunting vehicle with the help of his burly arms wrapped around you. “t- thank you,” you pant, trying to catch your breath, even still. geto stands up tall and he completely towers over you. you feel so small all of a sudden, watching as he puts his helmet back on.

“anything for a fan,” he coos, and he brushes a thumb against your lips. just a single gesture just as that felt so intimate. your eyes lock with his for a long moment, and just before you could say anything more, he mumbles. “oh, you probably want an autograph?”

your eyes light up and you grow sheepish, awkwardly tugging on the vip-checked lanyard that wraps around your throat. “yeah, please.”

“such manners like a good girl, cute,” and you bring out a magazine with his face plastered on it as a headline for this week’s up and coming races in tokyo. “nah,” he waves it away, and as your brow quirks, he takes out a sharpie. geto slides the cap in between his teeth before he glances at you. “pull your shirt down real quick, sweetheart,” and without a second thought, you tug down the hem of your shirt, barely exposing your chest.

geto’s eyes rove down your skin before he swiftly signs right against your left tit. the ink softly runs against your skin and you gasp, watching as he marks up the upper part of your chest. “aaaand, perfect,” he concludes, adding a ‘xo’ at the end of his signature. geto puts the cap back on and he flashes you a sly expression. “so i’ll see you at the next race?”

he starts walking away before you could even reply and you feel the weight of your shaky legs grow heavy. “y.. yeah,” and with dewy eyes, you watch as he steps in his car, playfully revving his engine at you.

the cool air sets against your skin once more as you stood there with shaky legs. the car meet slowly gets more crowded as the rest of the racers pass the finish line.

but, your brows furrow once you realize you felt a bit . . . empty between your legs.

with a soft gasp, you squint near the inside of geto’s car before he pulls off.

hanging over his rear view mirror instead of the fuzzy dice you once saw—was nothing other than your panties,

his real prize.

[seranextdoor]

tw. dark content, brief gory descriptions, smut, size difference.

pairing. mr. crawling x fem! reader. 1k words.

- i wish there was more on blissful love life end route, wish i couldve fuck this cute little shyt until he blabberin' :p i love this gameeeeeee! sorry for suddenly writing about homicipher after months of ghosting u guys.. hehe...

The smell of death lingers in the air ever since you brought along the certain entity to the overworld. It's faint enough to let you know that he was watching.

Not that you mind, he practically latched onto you like a barnacle the first time he met you at that strange hallway. Mr. Crawling, despite the oddities that comes along his unique charms, was a pleasant companion. Maybe it's the fact that you'd noticed the dark figure, slouching at the corner of your room, or the fact that you'd woke up with him next to you, the high-pitched giggling causing you to stir awake at the darkest hour.

You wonder if Mr. Crawling gets bored at times. You can't blame him, the underworld where he is from an endless maze with sharp corners here and there, not to mention the occasional earthquakes that change the layout of the map. Comparing his world to your little apartment was laughable. Maybe that's why you started feeling his cold fingertips running underneath the thin fabric of your clothes. Not that you'd stop him, Not that you want him to anyway. You taught him a few things, mainly how humans express their love. It's nice to have someone dote on you for bringing them a bowl of fresh human flesh.

'It's better to be with Mr. Crawling,' you thought.

Being with a human means it'll increase the chance of you getting caught and you wouldn't be able to go on another killing spree. At least Mr. Crawling accepts you for who you are.

"You... like?" his croaky voice puts your running thoughts to the side as you tilt your head, your eyes looking at him before they avert down to his wandering hand. His fingers are abnormally slender with a grayish tint as he slowly brushed them on your stomach before they went lower and lower until his fingers practically hovered over your lower body. He gives you a look, "need you." he points down at your clothed pussy, your cheeks quickly warms up at his words.

"Can touch?" he asked, tilting his head to the side. His fingers trembled the more he waited for your response like he itched to touch you. "Can." you give him a brief nod as his fingers slowly slipped under your shorts, spreading your folds before he pressed down on your clit causing your breath to hitches. You watched with staggered breathing as his hand moved in a circular motion, rubbing your clit slowly as your sopping hole clenched around nothing. "Good? Enjoyable?" he asked, giggling when you gasped and nodded at his words while he traced your slit, getting your juices all over his nimble digits.

His kisses are sloppy, and the metallic taste of blood from the flesh he consumed for dinner comes in as the aftertaste when you pull back for some air. Mr Crawling quickly chases after your lips, pressing his cracked and cold ones on yours as his tongue shamelessly swirls around yours. With enough juices coating his fingers, he easily slipped it into your entrance as it squelches, his other hand holding your thigh to keep your legs spreading. “Look down,” he pulled his fingers out with a small pop, proudly showing his wet and pruney fingers to you before he slipped them into his mouth. “heh, good. Me happy!” he giggled, moving on top of you as you rested your legs on each side of his body.

“Mr. Crawling...” you whined, watching him with blurry vision as he pulled the black clothing up, just enough for his cock to peek through. It's almost as if the entity wants you to see it, wants you to see how desperate he is. His pre-cum glistens and gather at the tip of his cock, bulging vein runs on the side of his shaft as your eyes shifts to the patch of dark hair on his pelvis. His knees dig into the mattress, his hand aligning the tip of his cock into your entrance. “Me... go into you slow.” he gently prods your hole with the tip of his cock, shifting his eyes on your face and down to your pussy as he pushes his thick cock past the ring of muscles.

You wince, the girth of his cock is stretching you to the maximum. "Hurt? Pain? Desire me go out?" he asked, looking down at you before you shook your head at his question, "I'm glad." he smiled at your reaction. Your fingers holding onto his biceps as your nails left crescent marks on his skin. "Pat, pat." he rubs your head, cupping your cheek as his cock throbs inside of you when your velvety walls flutters to adjust to his size. "Pretty." he whispers, leaning down to peck your lips. He lets you roll your hips, slowly fucking yourself into his fat cock while he holds your hip. "Like this? Happy?" he asked, his hips stuttering as he thrust back into you, matching your slow rhythm.

"Like it..." you replied, breathless as he began to pick up his pace. He was consistent, the tip of his cock brushing against the spot that sends you seeing stars on your ceilings with every single thrust, your nails raking down on his back, leaving claw marks which heals up as quickly as it came. The sound of skin slapping reverberates around the walls as Mr. Crawling gasps and pants in your ear each time he desperately slammed his cock into you. His long, black locks falling over your face, tangling with your hair and sticking to your forehead and chest. “Like you... Like this..." he chants, sharp teeth nibbling on your neck and down to your collarbones, leaving a trail of dark bruises in his wake.

“Close... me close,” his thick cock throbs inside of you, rubbing furiously against your walls as he holds your hips. His breath brushing against your lips as he gasped, “Come? Need you come," he begged, slobbery tongue poking out to flicks your swollen lips as he coaxed you into cumming on his cock by sharply rutting his cock inside of you as the lewd squelches from taking his cock deeper and deeper increases.

He pushes his hips into you when you came all over his cock, he quickly pushes his cock as deep as he can before his hot seeds spill into your womb, spilling out of your whole when he pulled out to rest his cock on your pelvis. He's still cumming, spurting the strings of loads on your stomach as you panted, your chest heaving up and down as he lazily kisses your neck and up to your flushed face,

"...Pretty."

[fake-bleach]

ROAD TRIP STOP | LOGAN HOWLETT x READER

taking a small road trip with old man logan where you’re halfway to where you need to be, and you're bored out of your mind. unluckily for you, your boyfriend won't possibly give into your antics.

or, logan fucks you in a gas station bathroom <3

word count: 3.3k

WARNINGS/DISCLAIMERS: (18+ only!) fem!reader, porn w/ slight plot lol, piv, unprotected sex, this shit is roughhh, degrading, filthyyy dirty talk, use of pet names, slight choking, coming inside/creampie, manhandling? i guess?, logan refers to himself as "your old man" bc i'm insane, anddd happy ending bc we all know how much i love those! :D

a/n: there aren't nearly enough fics abt old man logan & i need him Badly.

+ logan pictures from @divinesols incredible moodboard <3

ao3 link! | my masterlist

you’re 4 hours into your road trip, and logan, well, being the man he is, hasn’t let you drive a single second.

he tells you that you can just sit there n’ look pretty and that’s good enough for him. but, he’s getting tired, and the nearest hotel isn’t for another 50 miles.

you notice his eyes getting heavier, his body slouching more, his grip on the steering wheel loosening. so, you do what you do best. why not have some harmless fun with your old boyfriend?

your hands subtly inch over to his thighs, fingers trailing the clothed skin just above his knee, and he flinches surprisingly, glancing at you for a moment with that tired face of his.

“what are y’doing? huh?” he asks, with a quirk in his eyebrow and his voice rasping more than usual from his fatigue; it only makes it all the more arousing for you.

you grin, your head turned to look up at him with a sly expression. “just waking you up a bit. you’re practically falling asleep here.”

your fingers move upwards now, slowly but surely, and right before you can reach the spot just below his bulge, he sighs out, gripping your hand to lightly push it off of him.

“not here. got another hour left til’ we’re at the hotel. then, we can rest up, baby.”

you pout, looking at him eagerly. “are you even gonna make it there, lo?” you tease, “your eyes are getting heavier, you’re tired.. why don’t you just let me drive?” you attempt, but you’re knocked down the second you try.

he huffs, shaking his head. “don’t you try that shit. you know what m’gonna say to that.”

you groan at that, rolling your eyes fussily as your head turns to look up at the roof of the car. “you’re insufferable,” you sigh out, jokingly, of course. but, you were with logan long enough to know just how stubborn he could be. that he could almost always be.

which means, you knew exactly how to get what you wanted, in more ways than one. 

let’s just say this way was more fun, anyway.

you let out an exasperated breath before turning back to face him, your eyes lighting up just slightly before you open up your mouth.

“guess i just gotta..” you trail off, hands now on your body with your fingertips grazing the skin on your chest; roaming around the loose shirt you had on. “..entertain myself for the next hour then..”

logan turns his head to you now, eyes fixing on your hand just long enough to catch you slip it underneath your bra, cupping one of your tits. you let out a low moan as you look into his eyes, fingers rolling the nipple there, and he scoffs.

it’s a sound that has your heart racing immediately.

“you’ve been a good girl so far, sweetheart. would hate for you to switch up when we’re almost fuckin’ there.” he warns you, turning his head back to the road, having seen enough. “don’t you start now. gonna make you regret it.”

a pang of arousal hits you just like that, pussy involuntarily clenching around nothing as he threatens you; a threat that you definitely need to see for yourself.

you merely pout at him again, but his words aren’t enough to stop you. not when you’re just getting started.

your hand leaves your breast, slowly inching down your stomach, then to the waistband of your shorts, all with your eyes still locked on him. you bite your lip as your hand breaches underneath the material, testing the waters before your fingers reach the hem of your panties.

fingertips aching to dip into the wet heat, you anticipate your own touch as your hands lower, but an immediate grasp at your wrist stops you completely, eliciting a gasp from your throat.

mouth falling open in shock, you turn to look at the man responsible with that gruff look on his face, and that snarl from him gives you more than enough of a warning.

you clear your throat, letting out a noise of frustration towards your boyfriend as he all but tosses your hand away carelessly.

“knock. it. off. don’t make me say it again.”

logan nearly growls at you, moving in closer to get right in your face; he isn’t playing around, and you know it.

but, god, does it only encourage you more.

it isn’t until logan’s focus is completely back on the road that you test the waters again; your fingers finally inserting themselves into your soft, warm folds, wet and waiting so impatiently.

it makes you moan, a hushed sound that you try your hardest to bite back from releasing, but you’re evidently unsuccessful.

so, before you know it, the truck is swerving, causing you to pull yourself back to hold onto the sides of the car, anywhere that you could grab onto. the wheels squeal loudly as the high pitch penetrates your ears, and logan makes a harsh u-turn without a second to waste.

“lo! what the fuck!” you exclaim loudly, wild eyes reaching for his own, but it’s no use. he’s dead set in front of him, shaking his head furiously as the white of his knuckles present itself from holding onto the wheel so tightly.

he’s had enough of your shit.

his eyes never leave the road in front of him once, never returning to you. no matter how much you talk or try to get him to respond, he doesn’t budge.

instead, for the next 5 minutes, silence fills the space between you as your eyes shut from your frustration. it’s all you really can do at this point.

but, it’s only when the high screech of the wheels halting and the gear being put into park has your eyes opening again, eyes latching onto the bright lights in front of you.

a gas station, and the convenience store’s white luminescent glass reflecting on logan’s face. he’s out the driver’s side as soon as you can look at him, and before you can process it, he’s dragging you out of the truck, slamming the door shut as he does so.

you scramble against him, fists almost pushing their hardest into his chest as you whine loudly, increasingly dazed and confused.

“logan, what the fuck are you doing?! let go of me!”

you fight against him harder, but there’s nothing stopping him. not now.

he lets out an exasperated breath, his heavy footsteps embedding themselves into the loud gravel beneath them as he drags you along.

“don’t play that shit with me. actin’ like you don’t know what the hell you’re doing,” he practically yells at you in a hushed voice, “you know what the fuck you’re doing.”

“walk.” he orders you instantly, and you don’t hesitate to obey. not when his voice gets like that.

most of all, because it makes your heart pound—pounding in your chest because he’s right. you know what you’re doing.. but, you can’t say you regret it. no, not one bit.

and if he’s gonna make you regret it, you might as well go all out. right?

his grip on your arm is tight as you walk side by side with him, leading you into the gas station with the door open for you. you can’t even acknowledge the cashier from how quick logan swifts the two of you past them; straight towards the bathroom, and it makes you gulp. 

it’s too late for anyone to be around, too late for anyone to care, and you know that. but, the thought exhilarates you anyway.

he shoves the door open with a hushed whisper—one that’s almost incoherent as it escapes his lips. “you wanna act like a fucking brat?” he shuts the door hurriedly, shoving your body against the sink, “i’m gonna treat you like a fucking brat.”

you yelp at the sudden movement, his fingers digging themselves into your skin as you cry out at the feeling. it’s rough and brutal and it burns, but it’s so fucking good.

“lo.. lo, please,” you whine as your eyes shut tightly, the overwhelming sensation of his hands on you and his hot breath hitting your skin being too much to handle.

your body is flush against the sink as you attempt to squirm, to try to get him to do something, anything.

that cruel laugh of his fills your ears—quiet yet booming in your head as it sends chills throughout your entire body, eyes flashing open to look at him in the mirror in front of you. “please? please?” logan mocks you, “do y’even know what you’re asking for, baby? nah.. you don’t.”

“you just want..” logan trails off, his hands mindlessly reaching for your shorts, “to get fucked.. like the whore you are.”

without a single warning, he yanks them down along with your panties, and your whines are impossible to stop when the cool air hits your bare skin. when his filthy words are the only thing you can think about.

“can’t keep these pretty hands to yourself, you gotta rile me up to do it for you?” you hear the clank of his belt unbuckling, the zipper of his jeans sliding down, “gotta piss me off every goddamn time you get so fucking needy? i mean,” he laughs harder now, “not that i really blame you..”

logan pauses, and his eyes that were once staring directly at you now shift to look straight ahead, latching onto your mirrored reflection instead. as if he was looking right into you now. “pretty girl like you.. would be a shame to let this cunt go to waste. so, i’ll do you a favor..”

your jaw falls open in complete shock as your face contorts, as the tip of his cock breaches your tight hole, making your eyes roll back instantaneously with a sob from your lips.

“i’ll use her real good. for what she’s made for, yeah?”

your hands grip the sink in front of you as tightly as possible, body trembling as logan groans into your ear, his hands on your body never loosening.

instead, his grip only tightens as his hips become flush against your ass, his entire cock piercing you to the hilt with a satisfied moan.

“that was easier this time, wasn’t it? gettin’ used to me now. just needed to..” logan takes a moment to pull himself out of you, the tip resting against your entrance as he groans. he slams himself back inside of you so hard that your body fails you, your hands landing on the mirror to hold yourself up, bent over.

“break her in real fucking good.”

your body shakes against him as you cry out at his intrusion, stammering out a string of noises as your walls involuntarily clench around him over and over again. it’s almost as if you’re rapidly adapting to him; the way he stretches you out so much that it hurts in the best way possible. you’re pulsing around him, increasingly growing wetter by the second as your eyes water from the intense sensation.

your words slur with a few whines of what seem to be logan’s name as your hands move back to the sink, attempting to push yourself back up against him, but he stops you. grabbing one of your hands, he places it right against the mirror again, holding it still as he grinds himself into you. it makes you breathe out rapidly, body bent over the sink completely now.

“keep em’ right there. right fucking there. you don’t get to do that. y’don’t get to make any choices here.” he grunts in your ear, his thick beard grazing along your jaw as his eyes flicker from your face back to the mirror. he notices the way you’re trembling, eyes filled with those pretty tears of yours, and it makes him smile—a chuckle leaving him shamelessly.

he takes a moment to admire you, whispering out, “what i’m gonna do to you, baby..” and it makes your eyes flutter shut, warmth filling your core.

his other hand trails up the front of your body now, and it practically covers you completely because of how big it is—your stomach, your breasts, your chest, then finally, your neck. your gasp is loud; heavy, as his fingers wrap around your throat, holding you still for him.

all of you in the palm of his hand—all in his control.

you moan eagerly as he looks into your eyes through the mirror, grinning almost maliciously, “isn’t this what you wanted?” he laughs, his hips stirring a bit as he agonizingly pulls out of you, making you wince, “you wanted my attention so bad, wanted my cock so fucking bad..” he growls in your ear, his hand sliding from your throat to the back of your neck, pushing you down hard, and it makes you grip onto the side of the sink even more. 

“well, now you fucking got it.”

the sound of his rasping grunt hits you first; before you’re sobbing out on his cock, pelvis hammering inside of you with a tight hold on your neck, keeping you there with no chance of stopping, no squirming, no escaping.. no running away from this.

all you can do is take it as he pounds into you, the agonizing ache of his cock sliding in and out of you rapidly increasing the coil in your core, your loud cries and moans enough to make him go harder.

“there you go, there she is..” logan grits out, hands now grasping at your hips, smacking your ass, eliciting a grunt from you, “better fuckin’ hope no one walks in here, or else all they’re gonna see is some whore gettin’ used.”

you cry out as you feel the tip of his cock reach the deepest parts inside of you, nudging your g-spot suddenly as a tear slides down your cheek, your knuckles white from how tight you were grasping at your surroundings. your cheeks grow hot from the idea of that happening, stomach tightening as heat pools your core.

“what’d they think, huh? you think they’d wanna join in on the fun? bet they’d wanna fuck you too after i’m done with you. tightest fuckin’ hole i’ve ever had.”

you whine out now, shaking your head desperately in retaliation as you deny it. you couldn’t ever have another man like this, not now, not ever—only him.

logan sighs out, “no, no, no, i’d never let em’ baby, don’t you worry,” he reassures you, pressing his lips against the top of your head, “this,” he murmurs, his hand reaching to cup the front of your cunt, the rough skin on his palm grazing your clit just enough to make you squeal, “s’all fuckin’ mine. you hear me? not a single soul gets to use her like i can.”

“not like she’d want it anyway. only wants my cock in her. s’the only way she can really be filled up.. fucked stupid and cryin’ for me. ain’t that right? never got fucked by a man like me before y’met me, and i’m sure as hell no one will ever get her trembling like i do.”

you shake your head again, tears continuously spilling out of your eyes as your stomach tightens repeatedly, “n-no, lo, only you—” you stammer out as logan buries himself inside of you to the hilt, plunging into the warm heat of your walls, and he slows, relying on pure power than pace now. the harsh drive of his hips has your head fogging up, so close to reaching your peak with your cunt shuddering.

“ohh, there we go, she’s doing it now. shaking all over this fucking cock, squeezin’ me so tight,” he hisses, “that all you up in this pretty little head, or can you even control it? can’t even control it, can you, baby?”

a string of noises leaves your lips, breathless and mixed with whines and a few tears in your eyes as your core spasms out, his cock hitting deep inside of you repeatedly.

“what was that? can’t really.. understand you, baby, y’gotta speak up..” he teases, a mean laugh escaping his throat, “c’monnn, use your words, really think em’ out, say em’ clearly.”

“c’mon, show me that you’re still my good girl. my good little girl. speak up for your old man, honey.”

you yelp out at his filthy words, “m’.. i c-can’t.. control it, ah!” your moans involuntarily stringing out, eyes fluttering shut and rolling to the back of your head, your pussy convulsing around him intensely. “g-gonna–c-cum, lo, oh—” you spit out, your chest grasping for as much air as possible.

he hums in your ear now, fingers reaching for your clit and fastening tight, harsh circles at it, making you shudder, your cunt throbbing around his cock—pulsating over and over again as you start to see white. “gonna fill you up, sweetheart, gonna make you take it, fuck.”

you can’t even register him anymore as he talks you through it, the “come for me, baby,” muffled in your ears as you listen to him, cunt constricting around him tightly as you soak him, and the sound is filthy as logan chases his release, squelching loudly from your climax.

you let out a muffled sob as logan finally reaches his peak, slamming himself deep inside of you as he holds you there, the spurts of white hot spilling & coating your walls. all you can hear is the ringing in your ears, along with the mixture of your heavy breaths and logan’s rasps surrounding you.

logan’s strong arms pull you up against him as you catch your breath, heart rate slowing as your back leans against his chest tiredly. he mutters sweet nothings to you, praising you with kisses along your neck, cheek, then to your lips.

“my good fucking girl, my sweet girl—oh, baby,” he hums in your ear, eyes shut as he takes you in. you sigh out, breathing him in as your hand reaches behind, landing on the back of his head to pull him in closer, “god, i love you.”

you laugh, pressing a mindless kiss on his skin, “i love you more, lo, i–i’m sorry for acting out, for being such a—” you begin to apologize, but he just shuts you up with another peck to your lips. “shh, you hush now. i appreciate it.. you riling me up all the damn time. s’ the only way i can still feel so young.”

you giggle, eyes opening up to turn your head to him, taking in his disheveled look—tired, old, grumpy. the man you loved, as handsome as ever.

“always young in my eyes, lo..” you smile, “besides.. it’s the only way i can get you to fuck me that good.” you tease.

he huffs, rolling his eyes. “i fuck you that good every goddamn time, n’ don’t you deny it.”

you laugh, nodding. you can’t deny that fact. but, your eyebrows furrow slightly, suddenly thinking back to the previous events.

“did you really fuck me in a gas station bathroom, babe? what if someone walked in?!” you groan, pushing your forehead into his chest, embarrassed.

he chuckles, “locked it the minute we got in here, baby. wouldn’t let anyone see you like that,” he reassures you, gently gripping the side of your head to make you look up at him, “you got that?”

his face is stern now as he looks into your eyes, and those butterflies in your stomach erupt as if it were the first time you ever got them from him. you nod though, gleaming up at him.

“got it.”

he grins, “good. now, let’s get you cleaned up n’ back on the road. back’s killing me even more now n’ that bed’s calling my name.”

you laugh at him, teasing him further. “old man.”

you wouldn’t want it any other way.

[kitkatscabinet]

SNUGGLE BUG

Summary: The boys try to get out of bed, their partner has other plans.

Pairing(s): Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, x reader

A/N: unedited

DICK GRAYSON

Dick's always been a physically affectionate person, far more so than the rest of his family. It's why he'd been so ecstatic when he'd found you, a partner that was just as, if not more affectionate than him.

On more than one occasion his siblings had been given front-row seats to the snuggle show when they broke into his apartment, served them right really.

What Dick hadn't accounted for, was just how difficult it was to peel himself from your arms in the morning. Torture would hurt less he's sure.

"Ten more minutes," you whined childishly, burrowing your face into Dick's bare shoulder, tightening your arms around his torso.

"We've already said that three times." Your partner laughed, wriggling out of your hold but with far less strength than you knew he was capable of.

Both of you were fully aware just how quickly he could extracate himself from your arms should the neccessity rise. Technically speaking he did have to go to work, but surely it couldn't hurt to be a little late?

Though a quick glance at the hello kitty alarm clock on the bedside table confirmed he was already late.

"Dickie, can't you just call in? I wanna cuddle."

Fuck. How could he say no to that?

It wasn't like he really needed the money anyway.

His boss's ire is worth it to feel the way you smile into the skin of his neck, your warm breaths and little laughs as you lay tangled together.

So worth it.

JASON TODD

"You planning on letting me go anytime soon?" Jason grunted, though you know him well enough to hear the smile he's attempting to hide.

"Never," you mumble into the skin between his broad shoulder blades, the mattress slouching beneath the combined weight of you and your boyfriend.

Jason, undeterred by your attempts to drag him down, stands with a grunt. A cracking noise you know to be his knees rings out, and though you feel a little bad, you're unwilling to back down in your quest to get him back into bed.

Unfortunately for you, your boyfriend is built like a brick shithouse and is just as stubborn as you. Slowly, he manouevers around your small apartment all the while you hang off his back like a drunken Koala.

"Babyyyy," you whine petulantly into his ear, arms tightening around his neck in an attempt to only slightly choke him into submission.

Sighing, Jason starts to wander back into the bedroom. Just when you think you've won, he spins around, falling backwards onto the mattress and crushing you beneath his bulk.

In the minutes you spend winded, recovering, from being squished like an ant, Jason makes his escape. When you finally manage to come back to yourself you notice something incredibly distressing.

"Clothes! Why are you wearing clothes!" you wailed, sliding off the mattress and onto the floor in a pathetic slump.

Despite himself, Jason smiles at the sight, bundling you up in his arms before hopping back into bed with you. "Ok, you big dramatic baby."

Hey may have sounded put out, but the both of you knew he wanted to cuddle just as much. Besides, nothing was as important to him as you.

TIM DRAKE

He’d tried to be quiet. Truly, with years of training in the art of stealth Tim had intended to simply slip out of the bed and leave you to the sleep you needed.

He’d almost made it, both feet on the floor and the mattress no longer bearing most of his weight when all of a sudden a hand darted out, grasping his wrist.

Tim froze, slowly turning to look down at you with wide, guilty eyes. You're glaring up at him, sleep-addled face far more adorable than threatening, not that he'd ever tell you that, for fear of getting his ass beat.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" your voice is hoarse and gravelly from sleep but the threat is evident.

Mouth suddenly dry, Tim awkwardly chuckles, "Oh, babe, you're awake."

"Thanks to you," you grumbled sleepily, guilt and fear in equal measurements settling heavily in his chest.

"M'sorry, tried not to wake you but I gotta get to work on this case."

"No." You grunted, wrapping your arms around Tim's waist with freakish speed, nuzzling your face into his side.

He can't help the way his heart skips several beats at your casual affection. Tim's always been starved for touch, for the soft loving touch that you've always provided as if its as natural as breathing.

He should be used to it but despite the years worth of love and affection you've poured into Tim in the time you've spent together he still hasn't acclimated.

Tim knows, that you know, just how weak to your touch he is. It still doesn't prevent his resolve from crumbling when you refuse to let him budge, tugging him back down into your warm embrace.

"Good boy," you murmur against the skin of his neck, wrapping around his back like an octopus and trapping him against the expanse of your chest.

His skin runs hot at your words, mind numb to anything that's not your touch as he's eventually lulled back to sleep to the soothing sounds of your breathing.

[kjsfandoms]

Secret Santa

Eddie Munson x Reader

Description: Mrs. O'Donnell's yearly Secret Santa finally went well this year for Eddie Munson

Word Count: 870

------

Each year Mrs. O’Donnell had the idea to have her class take part in secret santa. Whether you liked who you got or not, you had to participate. It was a grade. As for Eddie Munson, someone who didn’t give a single fuck about his grades and shitty classmates, always managed to skip it for the last two years. This year though, he was way too determined to graduate to care about any of that. Plus this year it was different. Y/N was in his class. 

The two had never actually spoken to each other, but they would always steal glances at one another. There was something about her that he was so drawn to. That’s why he was secretly hoping he would get to be her secret santa. He’d finally get a reason to talk to her.

But alas, luck is never on Eddie’s side. He reached into the Santa hat that had the class names inside and pulled out Tina’s name. ‘Great.’ He thought to himself. He watched as the hat got around to Y/N as she went to pull out a name. He didn’t see the name, but he most definitely did see how she didn’t look his way. ‘There goes my chances.’

—

The day of secret santa Eddie walks into class holding a little gift bag with some candy. No way was he actually going to try getting a genuine gift for these assholes. He sat in his seat as the class started to pile in. 

“Alright class, now that everyone is here you may all hand out your gifts.” Mrs. O’Donnell says, wearing that stupid cursed santa hat.

The whole class starts moving around and Eddie makes his way over to Tina’s desk. He places the bag down without a word, knowing she wouldn’t want to speak to him anyway. Eddie makes his way back to his seat and slouches down into it. He knew nobody would actually care to give the freak a gift, so he reaches into his bag to pull out his notebook full of campaign ideas, deciding to work on that instead. 

From the corner of his eyes he can see the chair beside him being pulled out. To his surprise, it’s Y/N. 

“No way you actually got Tina a gift.” She smirks and sits down.

“Nah, just some candy. Didn't even try.” Eddie says calmly, even though he is internally screaming right now.

Y/N lets out a small laugh in response and then reaches down to her backpack. “Well, in case you were wondering why I’m here, I am in fact your secret santa.” she says as she pulls out a little gift box and then an even smaller gift box sitting on top.

Eddie is in so much shock he doesn’t even respond and lets her place the gifts on his desk. She doesn’t seem bothered by his silence and instead smiles and says, “I didn’t really have the money for an actual gift, so I made you some stuff instead.”

He reaches forward and grabs the smaller box first. He opens up the top to reveal a bracelet made out of guitar strings with some added charms of a skull and spider. “No way. This is so cool!” Eddie says through excitement, nearly jumping out his seat. Some students looked over at his mini outburst, but he couldn’t give a single shit right now. “I thought you might like that.” Y/N says with a grin, happy to see him enjoying his first gift.

“How’d you know I play guitar?”

“Well, it wasn’t hard to guess," she says as she looks him up and down, "but I did see you at the music store in the mall a few weeks ago buying some new guitar picks. That’s what gave me the idea for your next gift.”

Eddie had almost forgotten that there was another gift box sitting in front of him. He slips the bracelet onto his wrist and then reaches to open the other gift box. This time, he was truly at a loss for words. He reached into the box and picked up a little mini bouquet made out of wires for stems and guitar picks as the petals.

“Do you like it?” 

Eddie looks up almost in disbelief, “Do I like it? What kind of question is that? Y/N, this is insane!” He twirls the three flowers in his fingers to inspect them even more. Dark red and blue picks held together by hot glue, and even had some green picks as leaves. 

He looks back up at Y/N, trying to contain his smile, and says, “I have to get you something now. These are way too good for me to not get you anything in return.”

“Eddie, it's fine. It’s a part of the game, you don’t need to get me anything.” Y/N replies, also trying to contain a smile.

“No, that’s so unfair! C’mon, just one gift. I’ll even let you pick. It can be anything, well, almost anything. I’m on a tight budget here, but you get my point.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

“How about a date?”

Up until this moment Eddie had never given a damn about Mrs. O'Donnells, but holy shit was he sure thankful for her right now.

"A date it is."

[redflagshipwriter]

Ghost Driver 4

masterpost

Danny was starting to suspect he had kidnapped a child. He rapped his fingers against the steering wheel nervously. Jeeze. That was bad. Was Danny the stranger danger? He hit the brakes hard and turned the wheel hard to pull off a parking trick. He didn’t intend to be the stranger danger!

‘I think that is a human child. Wow, I hate myself.’ Danny turned off the car and resisted the urge to beat himself into unconsciousness against the steering wheel. ‘But he’s been helpful. Maybe it’s fine?’

He put that anxiety away to deal with later. 

“Here we are.” Robin unbuckled gingerly, another nail in the coffin he definitely didn’t have. What kind of ghost would use a seatbelt? Danny wanted to slap himself in the face. Maybe Robin didn’t know what Danny had thought. He hadn’t called him a ghost, right? Not directly. Maybe there was a way out of this social situation that wouldn’t be really awkward.

‘He appeared out of like, nowhere,’ Danny defended himself miserably. ‘In a graveyard! He moves weird- he’s just a spooky little guy.’

It was probably the kind of mistake that anyone could make. 

Whatever. 

He let Robin take the lead, mind and stomach churning. This had been such a weird day. First off, Victor had turned out to be not Victor, and also to be a total knockout babe. Then, Jay did like, a big hero thing promising to keep Danny safe and kissed his hand and—

His face burnt at the memory. Anyway, of course he was trying to find the guy. Anyone would want to secure a date. 

‘I am starting to wonder if he’s dead, though, and I just didn’t notice. The news articles about his death and also the headstone are pretty compelling evidence. Did I fail to notice he was dead?’

In past he would have said “fat fucking chance, I am an expert.” But, uh.

‘It’s not like I’ve never been fooled before. I thought Spectra was alive at first. And...’

He cut a look at Robin. Christ, his chest was expanding. Yeah, he was breathing. Danny wound fingers through his hair and pulled. Real. Human. Child. He grimaced.

 He was going to jail for like, ever. 

“I’m a disgrace to ectology and the afterlife,” he said mournfully.

Robin cut him a surprised look, movement sharp and aptly birdlike. “What’s that?”

“Nothing,” Danny dismissed. “Get the door open, it’s fine.”

“Like it’s that easy,” Robin muttered, but he went back to whatever arcane stuff he was doing. Because he was not a ghost, and couldn’t just phase through. Danny stuck his hands in his pockets, resigned to seeing how this played out.

It took Robin nearly ten minutes to disarm the security system, but he opened the door to the safe house gingerly. Nothing shot them. 

“Lemme go first,” Danny said, because he sort of still hoped that Batman wouldn’t break his fingers with a novelty bat-shaped hammer for this offense. He edged past Robin and into the apartment. He flicked on a light. “Oh, there he is,” Danny said, relieved.

Robin ducked in under his shoulder shockingly fast. “Jason?” He pulled up short. 

“Yeah, he’s out of it,” Danny agreed. Jason was slouched on the sofa, hand hanging over the side. He had some kind of road rash up the side of his face, scabbing up to his left ear. He had bandages around a hand and his neck. He had stripped down to the sleeveless undershirt and sports leggings. Unf. 

“Nice,” Danny said appreciatively.

“Is he dead?” Robin asked, sotto voice. 

Danny shrugged. “Not more dead than he was before?” He hedged. 

“….Are there quantifiable variations of being dead?” Robin asked. 

Shit. Danny went stiff. “No, finish your milk,” he snapped. 

“I’m… not drinking any milk.” 

Danny frowned, thrown off his groove.

Right. This wasn’t the neighbor’s kid he occasionally babysat. That tactic wouldn’t work to shut down unwanted questions. Or would it?

“Go get some, the kitchen is over there.” 

Robin stood still and looked very offended. That was good enough. Danny pushed past him to check Jason over a little more closely. He noticed a cheap flip phone on the floor near where his hand was dangling. He picked it up to see a message on the screen that said “serry I canf come but I call latert”. It was unsent. He checked. It was almost directed to his phone: Jason had gotten the last digit wrong.

“Aww,” Danny said, charmed. “He tried.” He snapped the phone shut and made sure the guy was breathing and not bleeding through his bandages or anything. Danny checked the color of his fingernails for oxygen discoloration, his heart rate, his pallor. He finished and stood back with his hands on his hips. 

“Well?” Robin snapped. 

Danny shrugged. “His blood is inside? I’m not a doctor yet and it’s not like there’s any equipment here. His pulse is fine, color looks good…” He scratched the back of his head. “I think he’s just sleeping off a concussion.” 

“A concussion?” Robin’s voice went high. 

Jason groaned, head lolling.

“He’s up!” Danny hovered off the ground. “Hey, you undead?” He poked at Jay’s chest gently. 

Jay batted at his hand, poorly. It didn’t connect. “Mm not dead anymore,” he complained, face scrunched up. “Joker’s not dead either. Leave me to suffer.” 

“…Do you want Joker dead?” Danny asked. He cocked his head to the side. “I think we can hide that.” There was nothing saying that a prisoner transferred to the Infinite Realms had to be kept there alive. In fact, it might be more convenient for Walker if the guy fit his usual prisoners’ general description. 

“We can not hide that,” Robin interrupted. Party pooper.

He cut a sideways glance at the child. Hmm. “Isn’t it your bedtime?” Danny asked casually. They needed to ditch him to get anything done. 

“It’s time for breakfast,” Robin snarked. “Look outside.” 

“…Do I have to feed you?” Danny asked, alarmed by the expanding nature of responsibility. He didn’t wait for a response, because it was obvious. When you cart around a child, you have to feed them at mealtimes. What did Jay even have in this kitchen? Danny wasn’t a particularly accomplished cook. He crossed the apartment in a panic to peer around the fridge. 

12 eggs, still within date. Uh… there was some butter in the fridge as well, and milk with two days left. He shook the carton. Basically full. Um…. He opened cupboards in search of carbs. Nothing. 

“Freezer,” Robin suggested. 

Danny checked. “I didn’t know you could freeze bread.” He turned it over in his hands dubiously. “Okay… toast and eggs.” 

Thank god he didn’t have any classes today. He was going to crash so hard once he’d finished everything important.

Jason didn’t react to anything they had said or done. Danny stuck his head out of the kitchenette to squint at him. The guy was still immobile on the sofa.

“Maybe breakfast is what he needs,” Danny decided, dubious. But that was a real thing! People need food to recover. Calories might help him.

Robin perched on the counter and watched Danny with a weird intensity. “I’m just melting butter in a warm pan,” Danny told him. Maybe the kid didn’t know how to cook. “Wanna help? Put the bread in the toaster.” 

Robin didn’t move. “You’d better do it.” 

…weird. 

Danny took out two slices of frozen bread and stuck them in the toaster. “It’s easy, bro,” he said, nonplussed. “Insert, and pull this lever down.” He demonstrated. “Check the time— I’ve got it for two minutes, it probably won’t be enough but we can check on it.” 

He turned back to the fry pan. The butter was bubbling now. He cracked two eggs in. It sizzled pleasantly. 

The sound helped him think things through. How was he going to do this? Skulker might fight to keep his new guest. And Walker- Danny grimaced. Walker had never really forgiven him for that prison break thing. 

‘I might need to lean on someone else’s authority,’ Danny mused. ‘Walker respects other cops. So I should, like, get that police guy to come and ask for the paperwork directly.’

It felt like no time at all until he scraped an egg off onto a piece of toast and handed it to Robin. He put the other on a plate and made one more toast and egg for Jay. 

Robin followed him to the living room,  toast in hand. 

“Go on, eat up.” Danny shoved his own toast into his mouth in one ghastly crunch. His cheeks stuck out as he began chewing on it. Then he plopped down on the floor next to Jay and started prodding his face again. “Hey. Hey.” Poke. “Breakfast.” 

Jay groaned. He unsuccessfully tried several times to bat Danny’s hand away, but eventually gave up and clutched the open-faced sandwich. 

“Gucky,” Danny said, observing the very odd way Jason was gripping the egg directly. Yolk leaked out under his middle finger. But he ate it, though, so it was fine. 

He turned on Robin when he remembered he was there. “Can you get home by yourself?” He asked. 

Robin looked at him with his creepy white eyes. “…No.” His wrist was flashing red. Was that like, a bird message system? Was it some kind of alarm going off because he had gone out of the acceptable Robin roaming range? Robin was pretending not to notice it.

Danny groaned and let his head rest against Jason’s leg. “Fine,” he complained. “Uh. I’ll take you home, then go move the Joker, get paperwork from Walker, and come back to give it to- what’s up?” He looked up through his bangs. Jason had grabbed onto his hair. 

“Joker?” He peeled an eye open. “No…” 

“You heard the man,” chirped Robin. “He doesn’t want you to interfere with the course of justice.”

Jason, Danny discovered, still had the egg yolk in his hand. He discovered this because Jason flung it dead center on Robin’s face. 

“Ha,” Danny said. The child was a downer, what could he say? “I think he wants me to interfere with the course of justice,” he parroted snootily. Even though that wasn’t at all what was going on. 

“Dangerous,” Jason said. He peeled one bloodshot eye open. He looked terrible.

“You look awful,” said Danny. “Lie down- no, don’t get up, what are you doing?”

“I’m coming with you,” Jason grunted. He waved a hand at Robin. “And this hallucination of my childhood innocence.”

“Actually-“

“Sh.” Robin rushed to get the door open. “Support his arm, will you?” 

“You still have an egg face,” Danny told him sulkily. He picked Jason up effortlessly. He ignored the muttered:

“I can fly?” 

from his passenger. “Come in, bird, we gotta get you home before someone murders me.” Danny jangled the keys and sunk down through the floor to make a point. Robin’s shouted “hey!” was muffled through the floor. Danny snickered and settled Jason in the passenger seat.

[chelseeebe]

i still love you, i promise

18+. smut. mentions of domestic violence (eddie is NOT the perpetrator!!!) exhusband!eddie x fem reader. this is far more nice domesticity than smut

if i’m being honest i don’t like the ending to this buuuuut i wanted to put it out because it’s been a while!! i have some holiday themed stuff cooking that i want to post before christmas so let’s all pray i actually finish it! i also wanted to just disclaim that yes cheating is bad yadda yadda yadda but we make an exception for fiction and especially for dear reader and eddie okay!?

☾ ⋆｡°✩

the tv rumbles on in the background, eddie’s eyes darting to the clock to determine whether another episode would be wise or not. 

fuck it. 

it plays on anyway, illuminating his dark living room and his terrible posture. he’d spend another couple hours here before finally dragging himself off to bed somewhere between one and two. 

he jumps out of his skin at the sound of hammering, a chorus of fists pummel the door, startling him from his slouch. whichever asshole had the audacity to bang on his door at this time would certainly live to regret it. 

he swings open the door with such force, his fist already clenched, expecting to beat the ever-loving shit out of someone only to find three sleepy faces smiling up at him. 

and you. 

stood behind your grinning sons, completely dejected as you balance what looked to be the entirety of your belongings in your arm. 

“what the f-“ managing to stop himself as the boys run around his legs to get inside. 

his eyes fall bank to your face, the shining bright maroon bruise adorning your cheek only becoming apparent to him now. 

“what happened?” eddie frets, caressing your cheek with a gentle hand, “what the fuck happened?” he didn’t really need you to tell him, that much was obvious. 

you sigh, he hadn’t seen you this low in years, no witty quips or snarling insults. just a permanent scowl and dried tears on your cheeks. 

“can you just..” moving your head from his grasp, “can you put them to bed for me? please?” desperation rippling through your tone. 

“yeah.. yeah of course,” stepping out of the way to welcome you inside, “but you’re telling me what the fuck happened after.” 

-

it’s at least forty five minutes before they settle, eddie growing more and more impatient with every stifled giggle and unnecessary request for the bathroom or water. 

when he does eventually close the door and make his way back to the kitchen, you’re stood over the sink, opened beer bottle in hand as you stare out of the window onto the street. 

“what happened?” he asks gently, hoping not to startle you though you jump anyway.

eddie grabs a bag of opened peas from his freezer, storming over to press the cold bag to your now, very violet cheekbone. 

you sigh again, much different to the usual exhausted mutters you gave him, “it doesn’t matter- thank you for doing that.” 

“too fucking right it does- did he hit you? did he touch the boys?” his grip on the bag tightening as his knuckles glow white. 

“no, he didn’t touch the boys,” placing your hand on top of his, taking the bag of vegetables from him, “just me.” 

eddie can’t help himself, the rage bubbling over once again, “i’ll kill him- i’ll go over there right now and kill that fucker,” searching for the key to his van, anticipating a night in jail for whatever was about to happen. 

your frown only grows deeper, “don’t be fucking stupid,” a disapproving frown etched on your face, watching him flap about the kitchen only to pause, blinking at you. 

“he hit you,” annunciating the words just in case you didn’t already know. 

you hum in acknowledgment, taking another swig of beer, “you got any cigarettes?”

eddie pauses again, completely astonished that you could be so calm about this. but, he’s nothing if not your willing servant, getting the box out of his pocket to hold out to you. 

“can you be serious about this? please?” withholding the box just before your grasp. 

“what do you want me to say eddie? he punched me in the face! it’s done, it’s over. i just wanna have a cigarette and drink my fucking beer, okay?” the dejected look on your face makes his heart sore, he hadn’t wanted to upset you, just get you to agree to him going over there and beating his ass. 

he nods, pointing at the balcony doors, “alright.. alright,” giving up entirely, “go ahead.” 

eddie slips out into the cool night with you, dropping the cig in your open palm, lighting his own in a bid to calm down. 

“thank you, by the way,” exhaling softly, “it means a lot, it’s just-,” you sigh, looking off into the distance, “it’s a lot for me to deal with right now, you don’t need to worry about me.” 

that was all you needed to say, a hint of guilt hitting his chest. eddie hadn’t meant to be so abrupt, so pissed off, it had just washed over him in a scornful fury. 

“i’m always gonna worry ‘bout you.” 

your lips crack into a smile for the first time this evening, relieving a little regret from his heart. 

“now smoke your cigarette and drink your fucking beer,” parroting your earlier outburst, with love of course. far too much love really, so much so he didn’t know what to do with it all. 

-

the first time actually sleeping next you again had never meant to be on his pitiful pull out couch, it felt almost unnatural. 

eddie slept here a lot, especially when he had the boys, but he can’t help but feel you deserve better. 

not that either of you are sleeping, you’re tossing and turning too much for him to drift off to sleep. 

you sigh for the four hundredth time, turning onto your back with a disgruntled huff.

“can’t sleep?” he asks, knowing the answer already. 

you startle, expecting him to have been asleep, “no, not really.”

“yeah i can tell,” deciding to spring some humour back into such a glum night, “you haven’t stayed still all night,” rolling onto his back to join you in staring at the dark ceiling. 

“i’m not a good wife-“ completely out of left field, forcing his brows to knit together in confusion. 

“that’s not true,” eddie interjects, pulling your body into his chest, really just trying to stop this self loathing shit you had going on. 

you chuckle, wrapping an arm over his waist, “i’ve cheated on him like a thousand times eddie, i know i’m not.”

“only with me right?” he asks curiously, unprepared for any answer other than yes. 

“yeah, only you.”

“then i don’t think that counts,” entirely too confident, “i’m your ex husband, he should know that you’d never be completely over me.”

he can feel your chest rise and fall nestled into his side, a deep sigh escaping your lips before slinging your leg over his waist to scoot on top, his hands don’t hesitate to slide downward to rest on your doughy hips. 

“hey, at least you might be invited to the next wedding,” your arms snake around his neck, running your fingers through the hair on the nape of his neck. 

this sort of intimacy was what eddie missed most, just being able to touch you whenever he liked. starting out completely innocent just to naturally slip into something more. christ, he’d pay millions to have it back. 

especially when you looked like this, your ragged oversized shirt and a pair of shorts from before bill clinton’s administration. perfect. 

“uhh no, i won’t be going unless it’s me you’re marrying,” sliding his hands from your hips to your ass, resisting the urge to growl as he does so. 

you laugh, breath brushing against his cheeks, “is that right?”

you’re so close, you may as well just meld into one body, a mess of limbs and parts. keeping your face, for obvious reasons. 

“yeah, so don’t forget it,” grabbing a handful of your luscious ass, savouring the way you felt in his grasp. 

your eyes roll back on their own, shifting only slightly to discover his dick stiffening, the rising tent in his scruffy old boxers. 

“are you hard already?” 

eddie chooses to ignore your sneering tone, his voice thick with exhaustion, “what do you think?” 

“of course you are,” sucking the backs of your teeth, “what’re you? 15?” but your thighs spread, moving into a more comfortable position for what was obviously about to happen. 

“you’re a weirdo,” he laughs, mindlessly grinding upwards, planting his feet firmly on the shitty mattress to help keep you upright. 

“mmhmm,” humming to yourself as you lean forwards, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose, “and you love it.” 

eddie sighs, moving your hips backwards with his hands, “you’re gonna have to get off of me if you’re not gonna do anything,” the feel of your warmth against his growing erection only making it worse, growling with need. 

your hands trail down his chest, stopping at his pudgy tummy, a feat he’s sworn to get rid of for years now. “what makes you think i’m not gonna do anything?” tucking two fingers inside the waistband of his strained boxers, teasing them down like he won’t cum right then and there. 

he hums, his breathing becoming laboured, “i- fuck, i dunno,” losing all coherent train of thought when you tug his boxers down below his heavy balls, dick springing up against his stomach. 

your tongue peeks out, wetting your lips, “thank you,” coming out of nowhere, “for letting us- or- me stay here,” hands lingering on his ribs. 

“of course,” a no-brainer, really. you were and always have been the love of his life, he’d do anything for you anytime, “you don’t ever have to thank me for shit,” giving your ass a generous squeeze for good measure. 

“yeah i know,” exhaling as you shuffle upward, lousy shorts pulled to the side as you fist his dick, positioning his tip at your sopping entrance, “but i’m gonna.” 

and with that, he slides inside, welcomed into your warmth with a soft moan, your hands finding his sighing shoulders to rest on as you move slowly.

it’s all painfully slow, knowing you weren’t alone and ran the risk of being interrupted at any point meant a milder version of events than what this room usually saw. 

he plants both hands on your cheeks, bringing your face in close, “you can get married a thousand more times and it’d still always be you,” breathlessly, pressing his sticky forehead against yours.

“st-stop it,” a shuddered breath, his gooey sentiments making your cheeks flush. 

“i mean it,” eddie’s sure he can feel your eyelashes flutter against his own, “no one’ll ever come close,” stilling his hips, your tepid smile and laboured breathing was enough to make him cum right now. 

“eddie,” you coo, coming to a halt to send a warning glare in his direction, “i’m still married,” as if soppy words meant more than the continued torrid affair you’d been having. 

“i’m literally inside of you,” he chuckles, finding your waist to caress instead, “you know this already.”

“mhm you are,” shifting on your knees, obviously hoping to distract him from his confession, “so shut up and fuck me,” whispering harshly, your finger lingers over his lips. 

he nods, losing the battle anyway. his hips thrust upward, meeting yours in a rushed manner, you gasp softly only tightening your grasp on his skin. 

the couch creaks, the springs begging for solace as you begin to move with him, containing your pretty little mewls within. eddie already knows he’s going to cum quick, he hadn’t seen you in weeks and even his hand had started to bore him. 

“oh shit,” he groans, running a hand underneath your shirt and up your flexed back, “i’m not gonna last,” gazing into your half-moon eyes, not put off by your growing smile. 

“no?” bouncing your hips faster, deliberately clenching your pussy around his cock, spurring him on for a disappointing showing, “you can’t wait f’me?” goading him, wanting him to cum just so you can hold it over his head. 

eddie pants in time with your frantic hips, allowing you to take control completely. he loves it like this, when you just use him to get off. barely able to keep watching you through hooded eyes, the sight of your wild waist sending him into overdrive. 

“nuhuh,” he strains, wetting his lips as he tries his utmost to keep going, “i can’t.. you feel so good,” through gritted teeth, his heels dig into the couch as a means to ground himself, prolong his climax for as long as possible. 

“c’mon eds,” pressing your damp forehead to his, “‘m nearly there,” positioning yourself so he nestles into your sweet spot, a clammy hand palms at the back of his neck as you desperately rut your hips. 

concentrated gasps fall out of his parted lips, reminding himself to keep breathing concurrently with every jerk and swing of your body. 

sticky skin meshes into one, he doesn’t know where you end and he begins, just a heaving pile of limbs on his couch. 

he’s trying to think of something, anything else to stop him busting his nut, but you’re whimpering, making these soft sounds and your eyes are rolling and it’s all too much. 

he’s thrusting upward without much thought, spilling over in a whirlwind of his nerves exploding and guttural grunts. filling you up, completely unapologetic in the moment, he knows he’ll make it up to you somehow. 

eddie can’t even comprehend your annoyed plight, his ears ringing and his vision fuzzy while you settle on his thighs. he can just about make out your frustrated pout, scowling at him as he floats slowly back to earth. 

“you’re so mean,” cupping his chin to force his eyes to meet yours, “i can’t believe you.” 

his eyelids flutter, sinking into the pillows with you still perched atop his thighs, “sorry sweetheart.. not my fault you feel so good,” sighing as the sleep takes over his eyes, lazily running his fingers over your supple thighs. 

you groan, sliding off of his lap to your spot next to him, pulling the blanket up and over you both. at least maybe now you’d get some sleep, though eddie’s not certain he will. thoughts of beating the life out of david crowd his mind, clearly not as empathetic or understanding as you were. 

he snakes an arm around your waist, watching your face as your features settle, embracing the tired aching of your bones. 

-

an ear-piercing, blood-curdling screech serves as your alarm, closely followed by three lots of footsteps banging down the wooden stairs in his apartment. 

eddie can’t have had more than three hours of sleep. holding onto your twitching body, preoccupied with guilt and anger over your bruised cheek instead. if he had been a better husband, this wouldn’t have ever happened. 

but now, he’s forced awake by your children, groaning into the pillow as their limbs flail and scramble onto the couch, screaming about breakfast and cartoons. 

“alright alright!” he huffs, still gruff from his lack of sleep, “get the hell off me,” shielding your head with his arms while they settle into place. 

“do we have have to go to school?” oscar perks up, an opportunist like his father. 

“uhh yeah,” you emerge from the blanket cocoon to scold your idiotic children, “what makes you think you’d be skipping today?” 

“because we’re at dads house, we only come here on the weekend,” so innocent, though you can both see right through it. 

“it’s tuesday,” you chuckle, “you’re going to school,” tipping them from your legs to stand up. 

there’s an unexpected sadness that settles in his chest, a knowing that he’d missed out on this for too long because he fucked up in the first place. 

eddie climbs out of the makeshift bed anyway, masking his lingering sadness with a cough, determined to make his incompetence up to you somehow. 

“i’ll get them ready,” he assures, leaning ever so nonchalantly against the counter, “go, take my bed, you need it more than i do,” it’d quite simply take all of his might not to crawl up the stairs and join you, leaving you alone in his bed was just torture. 

you nod, muttering a quiet thanks before shuffling off, running your fingers over benji’s mop of hair for good measure as you go. he was the only one that had inherited eddie’s curls, though unlike his dad’s, his sat nearly atop his head and not hastily thrown into a bun like his. 

“alright freaks, what’s for breakfast?” 

-

toast and ice cream apparently. 

a long battle of no’s and absolutely not’s ended with eddie conceding to his feral children, on the condition that they had toast as well as their ice cream. 

it worked, for the most part, until it came time to leave and oscar couldn’t find his pencil case and benji’s shoes needed to be tied. 

but they’d made it to the gates only a few minutes late, bundling them out of his car and far far away for eight hours. 

he still needed to call the shop and let them know he wouldn’t be in, not for a couple days at least. you were his priority now, not that you hadn’t ever been, they all knew he’d drop work if you asked. 

eddie leaps up to his apartment, desperate to get back to you. he wasn’t expecting to find you in the kitchen, washing the dishes from his chaotic excuse for breakfast. 

“did they have ice cream for breakfast?” you ask the second he enters the room. your tone gives nothing away, forcing him to answer cautiously in case yes was the wrong answer. 

“it’s the only thing they’d eat,” he holds his hands up in admission of his guilt, “they had toast too though,” sidling up besides the sink, studying your eyes to grasp whether you were pissed. 

“alright,” nodding as you drain the sink, wiping your hands with the dish towel, “they had a shitty night, ice cream is fine,” shrugging as you turn to him. 

is this a ruse? were you about to release your real frustration? eddie’s not sure and he’s not about to find out. 

“how ‘bout some food? we could go out?” changing the subject entirely, a safe, but wise move. 

you blink, glancing at the clock, “you don’t have work?” 

he shakes his head no, “called in, told them you needed me here so.. you’re stuck with me,” sliding closer along the countertop, a bashful grin overcoming his features. 

he’s not sure how long this’ll last but he’s going to soak up every last minute of you being here, letting him dote on you instead of refusing, a semblance of the old life he so dearly missed. 

“i want a burger,” stating plainly, knowing he’d get you anything you asked for. 

“i can do that,” he eyes your disheveled shirt and no pants, “you wanna get changed first or are we just going like this?” 

you snarl before scurrying off to get ready. eddie finds it difficult to not let his heart swell, he’d never fallen out of love with you exactly, but he’s certain he’s falling in love with you all over again. 

-

eddie’s not complaining at all, but he’d forgotten just how long you took to get ready sometimes. 

an hour later and you reappear, the maroon marking still adorning your face, though you look a little less tired and a little more like you. 

deciding on a benny’s special over shitty fast food which he didn’t mind. eddie used to work at benny’s right around the time you got pregnant with oscar, it was a short lived job though, he wasn’t exactly cut out for customer service even in your local dinner. 

benny was kind enough to let him go with his whole pay check, he’d always had a soft spot for him. 

“are you getting out or..” his hand pauses on the door handle, staring at your frozen body.  

“uh no? not with this,” gesturing to the bright purple bruise decorating your face. 

eddie’s brows furrow, you weren’t one to care about what people thought of you, especially not something shallow like a bruise. 

“why? d’you think anyone’s gonna care?” completely dumbfounded by your hesitance. 

you scoff, “no eds, i don’t want anyone to think that you did it.”

oh. 

“oh.. shit, yeah,” it was so unfathomable to him to ever think about hitting you that the the thought had just never crossed his mind, he would never, not even if his life depended on it. 

“yeah,” you repeat, laughing at his ignorance, “i’m doing this for you,” staying put in your seat, a self-righteous nod as he clambers out, having already memorised your order on the journey over. 

he can’t stop thinking about it. 

that anyone could ever assume he’d do that to you. 

he lost his temper sometimes but not like that, never at you. it makes him nauseous to even imagine, babbling through his order while all his brain can fathom is you. 

eddie’s more sure than ever that he had to do whatever it took to keep you next to him forever. you liked to joke a lot about your divorce, how it was the best two thousand bucks you’ve ever spent, but eddie’s not sure it’s at all true. 

he slides back into the car, holding the food in his lap while he, rather shoddily, thinks this through. 

“what? what’s wrong?” oblivious to the inner workings of his head, the buzzing feeling of electricity coursing through his veins. 

the car is silent, though he’s certain you can hear his brain ticking along before he takes a hold of your hand. 

“i’ve been thinking,” your arm going limp with his touch, befuddled by his sudden change in demeanour. 

“oh no,” laughing quietly, letting him continue whatever this was, “that’s never a good thing.”

he slides his ring from his finger, still unable to part with the commitment he’d made, and slides it onto your, notably empty, fourth finger, “i want you to have this, and i want you to keep it until you’re ready- whether that’s a couple of months or twenty years,” twisting the metal around and around, “i’ll be there.”

“eddie,” too gentle for scolding, perhaps it was purely pitiful instead. but your eyes soften when they catch his forlorn gaze, squeezing his fingers for good measure.

a sign that maybe not all hope was lost.

[wysteria-bloom]

▨ "our child is an angel"

JJK characters when called into teacher's office about their child

Characters : gojo, toji, nanami, sukuna

Genre : fluff, crack

Warnings : I use female pronouns

A/n : Toji is not a deadbeat dad in this one because yeah. Wish he was canonical a hot dilf but we can never get what we want where Gege is concerned 😟

⟢ gojo satoru ␥

"When your son was asked to wait to go to the bathroom, he replied 'I will pee on your floor then bitch.'" The teacher spoke solemnly.

Satoru immediately snorted which you gave him a death glare for, pinching his thigh harshly.

You frowned," Well, before I question why the teacher denied bathroom privileges..." you turned to your husband. Your son was pouting next to you both, looking away with narrowed eyes," That doesn't sound like him at all, does it Satoru?"

Satoru immediately agreed with you, shaking his head," N-no. Not at all. Who taught you that language, kiddo?"

His son looked at him with a betrayed expression, pointing at him accusingly "YOU did!" He exclaimed.

Satoru's smile was pained as you slowly turned your head to him, eyebrows furrowing,"... Thank you for your time, Mrs. Fiyumi. I will have a stern talking. With BOTH of them." Then you gave her the brightest smile," I think it's all the candy they've been eating, I think maybe it's time to cut down on it all, yeah?"

The teacher nodded in agreement with a knowing smile," Yes, I agree."

The two males simultaneously slouched back into their chairs with loud groans which they covered up with coughs when you glared at them.

Satoru mustered a charming grin, settling a loving hand on your shoulder," I've been meaning to go on a diet anyways, haha..."

You rolled your eyes and patted his hand with yours in a pitying way," shut up, my love."

"Dad! Grow a backbone, you lanky idiot!" Your son scoffed out disapprovingly.

The white-haired man's charming grin fell instantly and he glared beneath his glasses," shut up you-"

⟢ nanami kento ␥

"Yes, your daughter got into a fight with one of the boys and managed to split his lip." The teacher gestured to the little girl in the chair who was sitting oh so politely.

Nanami hummed lowly, brows furrowed," not good." He said with that disappointed drawl to his tone that could make anybody curl into themselves with shame, his own daughter cringing to herself.

You merely raised a brow at your daughter," That right? So she won?" You asked bluntly.

A warm hand settled on your knee, squeezing lovingly and as a warning," not the point, love." Nanami grunted out disapprovingly.

The girl grinned with her cute gap-tooth, blue eyes glinting with pride as she looked to her mother," I won!!" She chirped," he pulled my hair so I split his lip!"

Her parents stared on in silence before Nanami gave her a small smile filled with warmth," Good girl."

⟢ ryomen sukuna ␥

"Your daughter punched Midori-"

Sukuna held up a hand," Don't need to hear it. Let's go." He began to stand up, tugging his little girl by the hood of her hoodie.

You shook your head in disapproval at your husband and looked to the teacher," I'm sorry, can you give me more context?"

Sukuna scoffed," Babe. Its obviously about that rich kid again. The little shit who bullies her? Yeah. Don't give a fuck. I'm proud of my fuckin' daughter." He glared at the teacher and walked out of the room with his daughter following anxiously behind.

Your eye twitched before you stood up slowly, offering a pained smile to lighten the load," well, you heard the man. Thanks." You left as well, not before tugging on your husband's ear like a mother and giving your girl a kiss on the forehead and a promise of ice cream.

Sukuna crouched down to her level and pinched his daughter's cheek with a bored expression, eyes glinting in amusement at the sight of her nose scrunching up at the actions," Next time? Put her through endless torture and misery. I can teach you a few techniques--"

You had to step in before your husband created a potential serial killer.

⟢ fushiguro toji ␥

"Megumi got into a fight aga-"

Toji let out an obnoxiously loud yawn, wiping away the sleepy dust from his eyes as his wife fretted over their son's messy black hair.

"Ugh, I swear your hair drives me crazy, Megs. You definitely didn't get it from my genes." You muttered as you tried to smooth out the strands.

Megumi merely sighed and pushed your hands away with an uncomfortable frown etched onto his face," Mom. Listen to Mrs. Fiyumi." He scolded lightly.

"I am, I am." You whined to him, turning to face the teacher with a frown on your lips.

"You too, dad."

Toji blinked at his son before scoffing," I was, I was." He let out a fatherly grunt as he sat straight in his chair, large hand resting on your thigh as he did, looking to the teacher in boredom.

The teacher cleared her throat, giving the small child a thankful nod for keeping his parents in check," As I was saying, little Megumi got into a fight with a boy yesterday. This behaviour seems very unlike him, so I was just worried if there's anything going on at home lately that's stressing him out?"

Megumi's brows furrowed but he didn't open his mouth, sitting politely in his chair. You hummed," Well, I suppose he hasn't been getting a good amount of sleep lately. But that's all I can think of." You settled a hand on your husband's that was caressing your thigh gently.

Toji hummed," just apologise, Megs. An' we'll be on our way." He grumbled to his son, waving his free hand dismissively.

Megumi cleared his throat and stood up, bowing to his teacher, which shocked her a little," I'm sorry, Mrs. Fiyumi. I won't hit anyone again." When he stood to his full-height, he looked her straight in the eye," I hope your failed marriage is getting better." He stated in such a polite and genuine manner.

Toji bursted out laughing - cackling like a witch whilst you stared at your son in complete horror, tugging his hair scoldingly.

[luvkyu]

babygirl ( kim mingyu ) part two

synopsis : it's been a while since you and mingyu made it official. now, he's eager to take a new step with you.

content : 4.8k words, male reader, fluff/smut 18+!!, baby/babe petnames, power bottom reader, first time together, handjob (gyu doesn't last long lmao), oral, face fucking, lots of praise, consent checks, fingering, a little chest play, anal, mating press, aftercare, written w/o the use of condoms but safe sex is implied at the beginning

note : alright, i only went through this once to edit it so sorry if i missed anything. but anyways i basically always post fluff so enjoy the smut!! idk when it'll happen again!!!!

minors go away pls,, im serious lmao

part one

mingyu stared at you from across the table. his cheek was propped up against his hand and his back was slouched. he watched your eyes in fascination. they were locked on your laptop screen, darting here and there while your hands typed away. your eyebrows kept furrowing again and again, which mingyu found amusing to watch.

the two of you had taken things pretty slowly with your new relationship. being friends first, it took some time to get used to things and relearn how you fit together. if you were honest, you couldn't believe you hadn't seen mingyu's feelings for you sooner. his continued patience and understanding made you realize just how invested he was in you.

"i gotta get going soon. i have a lecture to get to," you finally broke the peaceful silence.

mingyu nodded, hiding the small frown on his lips. he knew you'd have to go eventually.

"okay, that's fine," he replied. "could i come over tonight?"

you finally looked up from your computer to see mingyu gazing at you with hope flickering in his eyes.

"sure, yeah. i didn't have any plans so that sounds great. we can watch a movie or play games or something if you want."

mingyu nodded and looked down at his hands.

"..well, i meant could i stay the night?" he clarified. you watched him play with his fingers, a shy smile on his lips. you quietly laughed to yourself. he was too cute.

"are you asking me if we can have sex tonight?"

mingyu's eyes went wide. he looked around to make sure no one in the coffee shop heard you.

"don't say it so carelessly!"

you chuckled again, "you're the one who brought it up!"

"yeah, but i was trying to be subtle," he whispered as he tried to hide his own laughter.

"mingyu, we've literally already talked about sex. and we already went to the doctor together."

"well, yeah, but it hasn't happened yet.. we only talked about being safe and.. about what we like," he said bashfully, "and i didn't wanna make you uncomfortable if it's not the right time yet."

you looked back at your computer, blushing.

"..why are you so sweet?" you muttered. mingyu's smile grew as he watched the pink tint on your cheeks darken.

"i really don't mind waiting. i just wanted to ask y-"

"babe," you stopped him. "i'll see you at my place tonight."

you didn't think you'd ever seen mingyu smile so big. his pretty canines showed before he looked down at his hands again.

you started to pack your things and stand up with your bag over your shoulder. you leaned over him and gave him a quick kiss.

"text me whatever time works for you?" he asked as you began to part from him.

"i will. see you later, gyu."

an eager smile curved on mingyu's lips as he walked to your front door. he could feel his steps speeding up involuntarily, excited by just the thought of seeing you.

he knocked a couple times on your door, but it remained closed, and he couldn't hear any movement from inside either. he double checked the time. it was around eight o'clock - the time you had agreed on in your texts.

confused and a little worried even, mingyu let himself into your place instead of waiting. he figured it would be unlocked - you were terrible at remembering to lock it.

"y/n?" mingyu called softly. still nothing. he frowned and walked further in search of you.

"y/nnnn.." mingyu stopped when he got to your bedroom. your room was dark, but still lowly lit with a few candles you had placed around. he smiled when he finally saw you curled up on your bed, sleeping in the hoodie that he left last time.

"dummy. why didn't you get under the covers," mingyu mumbled. he was about to get a spare blanket, but stopped when you started to stir and your eyes opened drowsily.

"oh, hi baby," you greeted quietly upon seeing him. mingyu grinned at you, moving to sit on the other side of the bed. "sorry, i drifted off after i took a shower earlier," you explained.

mingyu just shook his head at the apology. he got settled beside you, sitting and just staring at you with a smitten smile. he looked at the hoodie that draped over your shoulders and torso, then the thin shorts that laid underneath.

"looks good on you," he complimented as he tugged on the bottom of the hoodie. his hand slowly let go and trailed down to your thigh instead, mesmerized by you.

he watched you then stand up to stretch a bit after your accidental nap. you stretched your arms up and stood on your tip-toes, letting out a quiet groan. mingyu couldn't look away. the hoodie lifted just over your lower stomach and your leg muscles flexed.

"god," mingyu muttered, "you drive me crazy.." he was sure his ears were completely red by now, and he could feel some heat begin to rush toward his crotch. he felt pathetically desperate.

"what?" you asked while letting your arms fall back to your sides. you were still a little out of it, sleepy and cloudy eyed. mingyu flopped down onto the pillows with a heavy sigh.

"i'm just.. really into you."

you smiled and got back on the bed, climbing onto mingyu's lap to straddle him. his head instantly jerked up as his eyes went wide.

"good thing i'm your boyfriend then, huh?" you teased, sifting your hands through his hair. mingyu could only nod and look up at you.

you could tell from the way his mouth drifted open just the slightest bit that he was dying for a kiss. the look in his eyes was growing more impatient by the second. you slowly leaned down, your torsos pressing against each other, and let your lips hover over his. you stayed in place for a minute to enjoy the view of your boyfriend underneath you. before your lips could touch at all, you sat back up straight on his lap. mingyu groaned helplessly.

"y/nnn.." he complained.

"hm?"

mingyu let out a huff of air and stared at the ceiling.

"what is it, baby?"

"..i don't know how much longer i can stay like this," he admitted. he continued to stare at the ceiling to avoid your eyes.

a small smirk formed on your face as you started moving your hips against his. you went slow, watching mingyu's face change in pleasure. his own hips lifted upwards just the tiniest bit in an embarrassing need for more. his hands shifted from your thighs to your backside, trying to urge you to move faster.

"better?" you asked.

"mm.." mingyu didn't know if he meant yes or no, he could barely form words in his head let alone out loud.

you looked down at his grey sweatpants and moved a little faster. seeing his erection fighting against the fabric of his pants made your mind foggy.

mingyu let out a quiet moan when your hands slid beneath his t-shirt and gently moved along his chest. your hands were a little cold, it made his stomach tense up and his mouth fall open a bit more. when your fingers barely missed his nipples, the faintest whimper escaped his lips. you smiled at the reaction.

"sorry, gyu. you're just really cute all worked up like this."

mingyu tried to ignore the blush creeping up on his cheeks again.

"..keep going, please."

you smiled at the breathy words you finally got out of him. your hips were moving faster with his now, grinding against each other at a matched speed. mingyu's gaze kept going to you, watching almost in awe. seeing the tent in your shorts was getting him all the more worked up.

your hands soon traveled back down his chest and waist before settling firmly on his clothed cock. mingyu felt his heart skip a beat, meeting your eyes again.

"can i?" you asked. mingyu instantly nodded, causing you to pull the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers down. you took his wet length in your hand and started stroking. he finally gave up and let his head completely fall back onto his pillow, mouth agape and letting all his softest sounds out. maybe he'd been waiting for this longer than he realized.

"just like that.." mingyu's voice was quiet. he shut his eyes as he breathed heavily and enjoyed the attention he was getting. before he knew it, he was thrusting into your hand, losing the embarrassment he'd felt earlier.

you could tell mingyu was close already. from the way his eyebrows furrowed, to the way his fingers curled tightly around the hemline of your shorts, to the way his dick twitched and throbbed as you kept pumping him faster. you found it cute how quickly he could get off when it was you handling him.

"almost there, baby?" you asked, watching some of his pre slide down your fingers.

"g-god, yes..!"

you worked your hand faster around him, bringing your other hand down to fondle his balls. you leaned over him again to finally give him the kiss he'd been wanting. your lips moved sloppily, both of you still focused on the handjob you were giving.

you then pulled away from his mouth and looked down at him with a drunken smile.

"gonna be a good boy and cum for me?"

it was over for mingyu the second he heard those words leave your mouth. he wasn't even able to utter some kind of verbal answer. his back arched and he let out a loud moan as ropes of cum shot onto his stomach, some dribbling down your hands.

you watched mingyu's stomach rise and fall with his unsteady breathing. his groans died down with his high before your hand finally came to a stop. mingyu couldn't speak, he could only close his eyes and try to catch his breath. you smiled proudly while you unmounted his legs and watched the cum seep into his white t-shirt.

"sorry i should've taken your shirt off, gyu."

mingyu shook his head while sitting up. "it's just a shirt," he replied as he smiled and took your face in his hands, kissing you deeply.

"i can't stop smiling," he whispered, his beaming smile forcing him to stop kissing you. "still wanna keep going?"

you nodded and resumed kissing in what became a messy make-out. mingyu shakily began discarding his sweatpants and boxers, followed by his your hoodie. your hands traveled to his waist and under his shirt again before taking it off completely. he got chills as he felt you pull the shirt over his head, and then admire his tanned skin and perfect muscles.

"you're so pretty, baby," you complimented. you kneeled in between his legs as he sat on your bed. he looked up at you with blushing cheeks while your hands went through his wavy locks.

mingyu's hands caressed your legs, the two of you just gazing at each other in content. his hands ran up and down your thighs again before sneaking up your shorts. his brows twitched upwards in intrigue when he realized you weren't wearing anything underneath the thin piece of clothing.

"no underwear?"

you shook your head, "i figured it'd just slow us down."

mingyu laughed quietly at that response. you certainly weren't wrong. he slid your shorts down and finally laid eyes on your naked form. you continued to look down at him until noticing his longing stare at your half hard length.

"what is it, gyu?"

mingyu swallowed hard. he looked up at you with eyes you'd never seen from him.

"can i suck you?"

your dick immediately jumped at such a question. you mumbled some inaudible curse word and nodded, watching your boyfriend's attention go right back to your cock as he began to stroke you slowly.

you let out small sighs and moans as you watched him become entranced in what he was doing. before long, his mouth hovered over your cock as he looked up at you, as if asking for permission again.

"go ahead, baby."

mingyu smiled before taking you in his mouth. he didn't start slow either. he took as much of you down his throat as he could, tongue massaging your skin.

"fuck-!" you felt your body take a screenshot. your nails dug into the skin of his shoulders as you knelt in front of him.

you had never seen mingyu like this before. his attention was completely fixed on pleasing you. his eyelids looked heavy and he seemed to just keep moving his head faster. before you knew it, you could hear the wet sounds of his mouth and see some saliva slide down his chin.

"holy shit, mingyu," you moaned as your mouth fell agape. you could feel your hips start to snap forward, but you stopped yourself. you pushed mingyu's hair back, bringing him to look up at you again as he deep throated you.

"fuck, that's good.." your head fell back as you closed your eyes and let him work you. all his pretty, muffled moans paired with the lewd sounds of his mouth on your drenched cock would sooner than later be enough to break you.

mingyu pulled off of your dick after another second. his eyes drooped closed as he sat back and tried to breathe.

"you okay, baby?"

mingyu nodded, "just need a second."

"okay, take your time," you comforted.

you decided to take a rest as well. despite mingyu's otherworldly blowjob, your knees were starting to kill you from kneeling in the same spot. you moved to sit on the edge of your bed and propped yourself up with your hands. your cock still stood tall, glistening with mingyu's saliva.

after a minute, you felt mingyu's weight shift on the mattress. you turned to see him getting off of your bed and instead get in front of you on the floor. he gave you a mischievous smile and leveled himself with your crotch.

"babe," mingyu started, "you know you can fuck my face right?" he smiled again when your dick twitched at the question. he slowly started to take you in his mouth again, all while keeping intense eye contact with you.

"..are you sure?" you asked. mingyu nodded, taking you deeper.

"shit." you tangled your hands in his hair again and watched your cock disappear into his mouth. "just tap out if it becomes too much, okay?"

mingyu only moaned in response. he closed his eyes as you began to thrust into him. if you were honest, you were afraid of hurting him, but he seemed perfectly fine. excited even. you looked down at him with cloudy eyes and mouth fallen open yet again. the bed started to move and creak quietly as your thrusts quickened. you tightened your grip on his hair and let out a loud moan at the feeling of your cock hitting the back of his throat.

"fuck, you're taking me so well, gyu.." you were getting way too close, and you knew he could feel it. you pulled out of his mouth and let go of his hair while giving him a soft smile. mingyu didn't waste any time though. his hand instantly went to your leaking cock and started pumping you.

you fell back a bit onto the mattress, eyebrows knitting together and hips bucking up into his hand. you came with a loud groan and a yell of his name. you couldn't bother to worry about where your cum landed, you just let your boyfriend finish you off.

mingyu stood up with a proud smile and hovered over your laying body, giving you a short kiss. he then went off to your bathroom and came back with a wet rag to clean both of yourselves up.

"babe," you called softly. mingyu met your eyes as he wiped your body down.

"hm?"

"if i had known you could suck dick like that.."

mingyu chuckled. "what? you would've locked it in with me years ago?"

you laughed and nodded. mingyu couldn't help but blush. he stood in front of you and began wiping himself down from earlier. you watched him in intrigue. he was just so perfect. when he finally looked up and caught you staring, he instantly looked away with an embarrassed smile.

"stop looking at me," he mumbled. you could've sworn you heard a faint giggle leave his lips.

"okay, sorry babygirl," you responded sarcastically.

mingyu rolled his eyes at the nickname. he turned away from you completely to hide his flustered state.

"babe, you literally just let me fuck your face. but now you get all shy when all i'm doing is looking at you?"

mingyu finally turned back to give you a side eye. he huffed dramatically and set the rag down before joining you back on your bed, laying beside you.

"and it might be your first and last from me if you're not careful."

you laughed before pressing your lips into a thin line, showing him they were 'zipped'. mingyu nodded in approval.

"in all seriousness," you began again, "that really was amazing. i'm sorry it took us so long to do this kind of stuff. i just.. i like going slow."

mingyu shook his head, "don't apologize. i'd wait even longer for you. i want you to feel comfortable with me.. and safe with me."

you rolled over a little to face him better. your hand reached over to cup his cheek, thumb grazing over his skin. his eyes were locked on yours as his lips stretched into another idiotic smile.

"i've never known a man like you, gyu."

mingyu felt every part of him tingle. he leaned in to connect your lips again. your kisses started off slow and soft, as if pouring out every emotion you had for each other. but each kiss got more intense and sensual. he slowly climbed on top of you as your tongues met messily.

as he hovered over you, you realized he looked even bigger and broader this way. his arms flexed and his hair fell out of place, his pretty skin glistened with the finest layer of sweat, and his knee settling in between your legs was getting more and more dangerous.

mingyu stopped kissing you after realizing you were a little distracted. he continued to hover over you with concerned eyes.

"are you okay?"

"hm? yes! sorry.. was just, um.."

his hand came up to gently hold your cheek. "what is it?"

you smiled, "i was just admiring you."

"ah, i see," mingyu chuckled. "you were checking out how hot your boyfriend is, right?"

you rolled your eyes at him. although he was right on the money, he was still a dork. you wrapped your hand around the back of his neck and brought him back down to keep kissing you.

his lips started to travel down from your lips to your neck, his knee finally pushing up against your dick. your mouth fell open at the feeling. mingyu could've sworn he even heard the faintest whine manage to escape from you, and it just about drove him insane. he didn't bother to keep going slow, he chose a spot on your neck to suck and bite while his knee rubbed against your cock.

by the time you were fully hard again, your whimpers and heavy breaths were fueling mingyu's ego completely. he moved your legs to hook around his waist before crashing back into your lips as if he'd been starving for them. his hands caressed around your hips and down to your ass.

"you have lube right?" he asked with staggered breaths. you nodded and pointed to the drawer of your nightstand, to which he left the warmth of your leg lock to reach for.

you watched him pour the lube onto his fingers before bringing his hand down to your backside. he carefully began to spread the substance around before inserting a finger.

"is this still okay?" he asked softly. you couldn't stop the moan that left your lips. and if that didn't answer his question, you still nodded and managed to utter out a 'keep going' in between the sighs of pleasure.

mingyu's lips were on yours again before you knew it. his body felt warm and safe, and the constant, loving kisses as he took his time working you open added a level of intimacy that you didn't think you'd felt before.

you realized that your eyes had been closed for a while. you finally opened them to meet mingyu's gaze. he smiled at you, giving you another kiss. he had three fingers in you now, scissoring and thrusting as he soothingly rubbed the skin of your thigh with his free hand.

"i'm gonna keep stretching you. just let me know when you're good, baby," mingyu said again. you nodded while his lips traveled back down to your neck. you could see his dick hovering over your own. it made your stomach turn in excitement.

mingyu pulled his fingers away from your stretched hole, about to add more lube when you spoke up.

"..i'm good now, gyu."

mingyu looked at you, "are you sure? i can prep you more."

you only shook your head and gave him a dazed smile. you watched his composure straighten out as he grabbed the lube again to start coating his cock. a dumb, eager, smitten smile was stuck on his face again, but you still found it adorable. how someone so impossibly hot could also be so disgustingly cute was beyond you.

"you look so good like this, gyu," you complimented. you rested your arms over your head as you watched him stroke himself. he was getting all flustered again.

"are you seriously talking about me when i have you laying under me like this? all spread out and ready for my cock."

alright, he clocked you.

"..shit, don't talk like that, i might cum on the spot."

"noted." he kissed you one more time and lined himself up with your entrance. your legs naturally wrapped around him again before he began to enter you. his eyes instantly shut as he bit his lip in an effort to hold back his groans. he then took both of your hands and raised them above your head, tightly intertwining your fingers against the sheets.

he stopped to let you adjust before looking at you with glossy eyes. "still okay?"

you nodded quickly in response. squeezing his hands in yours, you lifted your head up to kiss him passionately. it was in that moment that it really hit you - mingyu may be your baby, but he was still a hunk who was realistically much stronger than you.

"keep going, baby," you told him. "you're doing so good for me."

a small moan left mingyu's lips as he let his hips snap forward a little too much. his forehead fell into the curve of your neck, his cock a little more than halfway into you now.

"..you feel so good," he whimpered into your skin.

your staggered breathing filled his ears as he tried to keep still, scared of hurting you if he pushed into you any further. you kept whispering praises to him as you let go of his hands and instead began to caress his arms and back.

"you can keep moving, gyu. i'm okay."

he didn't need to be told again. he looked down and watched as his cock disappeared all the way inside you. he smiled when he earned a guttural moan from you.

"..that's it, baby," you mumbled, voice a little weak.

mingyu finally began to steadily slide in and out of you. he littered kisses all along your neck and down to your chest by your collarbones.

"fuck, that's good, gyu.. faster."

you heard a grunt from him as he gripped the sheets and started to pound into you. the quick change from gentle to rough made your mouth fall agape for the nth time that night. your legs became weak, falling wider to the sides around mingyu.

you could feel the bed moving with him, his thrusts just getting harder and rougher. you let your head fall back as more moans spilled out. the veins in his arms were popping and his pecs bounced with every thrust. you let your hands wander to his chest, squeezing as you fell into a trance. he looked down at your hands and smirked.

"like my chest, baby?"

you could barely put a sentence together. you just nodded and kept touching him as he fucked you.

mingyu soon needed more of you. he paused to move your legs, bending them up against your body and hooking them over his shoulders. the stretch made you choke out a whimper as he resumed his thrusts.

"m-mingyu..!"

he smirked again as he watched your eyes roll to the back of your head. "what? you like when i fuck you silly like this?" he taunted between grunts.

you nodded frantically, muttering out 'yes's under your breath. your eyes were glassed over, mouth still hanging and hole clenching around him. the sounds of skin slapping and your bed beginning to creak again just drove mingyu to go harder.

"right there-!" you suddenly yelled out just as you saw stars. "right there, baby!"

both of your moans filled the bedroom, mingyu drilling into your prostate. you met his eyes - his gaze was intense. but you couldn't hold the contact for much longer. soon, your eyes rolled back up to just stare at the ceiling, fucked out.

"pretty boy.. can't even look at me. am i making you feel that good?"

his words sent chills down your body as you sputtered out more 'yes's and 'don't stop's. mingyu was quite proud of himself, to say the least. you were always the one teasing him and babying him. but now, here you were, a moaning mess underneath him.

he leaned down closer to you, making your legs burn from the stretch, then managed to take your throbbing cock in his hand.

"y/n- fuck.. i'm gonna cum soon," mingyu groaned out.

"mmh.. me too," your voice almost sounded broken from the pleasure. you held onto his shoulders, hands sliding over his back and leaving reddening scratch marks.

the sound of mingyu's moans got louder and heavier as he chased his high. he continued to fuck you into the sheets, but his hips began to stutter with how close he was getting.

he pulled out with a sly smirk and started jerking himself. your legs fell back down as his eyes locked onto yours.

"let's cum together, yeah?" he prompted.

your jaw hung open as he took your leaking cock in his hand and joined it against his own, stroking both of you at an increasingly fast pace. you couldn't decide where to keep your eyes - mingyu's lewd face or your cocks being pumped together.

mingyu's orgasm hit with the longest moan you'd heard from him yet. you started to finish with him, humping up into his hands as your mixed cum landed across your body and the sheets beneath you.

he kept stroking until your climaxes subsided, leaning down to kiss you softly before falling beside you on the bed. you closed your eyes and tried to steady your breathing while mingyu reached over to get the rag from earlier. he wiped you down once again, cleaning you the best he could.

"don't worry about it, babe. we can just go clean up in the shower," you stopped him. mingyu nodded and gave you another kiss on your cheek instead. you laughed quietly at the smile he couldn't wipe off his face.

"sorry," he laughed with you as he covered his mouth. "i keep smiling too much."

"no, i like when you smile. just confirms that you like me."

he scoffed and looked over at you. "as if we didn't know that already."

pulling you in toward his body, he wrapped his arms around you and kissed your head. your legs tangled together as you hugged him tightly. he let out a satisfied sigh while gently caressing your back, then looked down at you.

"shower now?"

"yes please." you left his embrace and got up from your bed. you started to trudge to the bathroom, but mingyu rushed up to follow behind you.

"wait, wait, wait," he squeaked out as he caught up to you. you stopped in the doorway of the bathroom to look at him in confusion.

"what is it?"

mingyu blushed. "nothing. just wanted to stay with you."

you shook your head at him, although he didn't miss the stupid grin that grew across your cheeks.

"you're such a baby, gyu."

he turned the water on before moving closer to you, hovering just over your lips.

"babygirl, right?" he asked.

you laughed and kissed him, "mhm."

[solarmorrigan]

I'm late, I'm sorry, but here's the full fic from this WIP post yesterday!

[CW: bullying, references to canon racism and violence, mentions of recreational drug use]

-

Steve makes it to the bathroom down the hall from the shop classroom—the one that’s far from the cafeteria and always empty during lunch, where people really only come to smoke, anyway—before he completely loses his shit.

“Son of a bitch!” He’s almost screaming as he hauls off and punches the wall of one of the bathroom stalls, putting every ounce of anger and frustration and humiliation into it, hitting it so hard that the whole construction rattles.

“Motherfucker,” he hisses, shaking his hand out, because it had hurt, and then he winds up to do it again, to make it hurt more, because at least he’s in control of that much, at least it’s anything but what he’s feeling right now.

“That’s a good way to break your hand, y’know,” a voice comes from the doorway, startling Steve into pivoting and aiming his fist at whoever is coming after him now.

He stops short when he sees nobody but Eddie goddamn Munson standing there, cringing into a startled flinch to protect his head as Steve nearly swings at him.

“Jesus shit,” Steve barks, dropping his fist and stepping back, shaky with adrenaline. “You walk like a fucking ghost, Munson.”

Munson peeks out of his defensive crouch before straightening up and sending a meaningful glance at the stall wall. “Somehow, I don’t think you would’ve heard me even if I was making all the noise in the world.”

Steve shrugs, his shoulders staying up near his ears in a defensive slouch. He can feel something dropping out of his hair and down the side of his face, and he feels the humiliation all over again as he tries to swipe it away.

“What do you want?” he asks, beyond caring if he sounds rude; he thinks he’s entitled, considering.

This time, Munson shrugs, a rolling, casual thing that belies the sharp look in his eyes. “Came to see if you were okay, I guess.”

Steve snorts. Is he okay?

Like, in the grand scheme of things, the answer is a really shaky “maybe.” But lately? It’s more of a resounding “no, not fucking really.”

Aside from everything else – aside from the nightmares, aside from the headaches, aside from the fact he’d had to drop basketball after his concussion, aside from having no real friends or allies at school now that he and Nancy aren’t together – aside from all that, there’s Billy fucking Hargrove.

Hargrove, who had taken all of a month to start pushing Steve’s buttons again. Who had taken less than a few days after that to realize that Steve wasn’t going to push back.

And then he’d started looking for the boundary line, pushing and pushing, shoulder-checking Steve in the hall, tripping him in the single class they share, knocking shit out of his hands, shoving him when his back is turned, all the while spitting names and insults, until it had culminated into today’s fiasco: dumping a carton of chocolate milk over the top of Steve’s head in the middle of the cafeteria with a deeply unconvincing “oops.”

It had gone dead silent, every eye in the room on Steve’s red face and Hargrove’s triumphant grin, while Steve had only been able to stand there, shaking with startled rage as milk had sluiced out of his hair and seeped into his collar and down the back of his shirt, knowing that he couldn’t retaliate.

He couldn’t.

He’d marched out of the cafeteria, shame and anger growing as voices had bloomed up behind him, already gossiping and speculating.

So, no, actually, he’s not really okay.

But instead of saying any of this to Munson, he just scoffs and turns away, looking towards the sinks.

“Wouldn’t have expected you to care,” he says, injecting as much lazy indifference into his voice as he can, trying to armor up the way he used to. “The number of speeches you’ve given about how much me and my group suck, I’d have figured you’d be the first to say I deserved it.”

Munson doesn’t say anything for a moment, and Steve doesn’t look back to see if the barb landed. He doesn’t really care, he just wants the guy to go away so Steve can finish his meltdown and clean up in peace.

“Not your group anymore, though,” Munson finally says.

Steve shrugs, pulling a wad of paper towels from the dispenser; might as well move on to cleanup if Munson isn’t going to fuck off. He guesses his little breakdown can wait until he gets home.

“Hasn’t been for over a year, now, right?” Munson goes on. Steve says nothing, using a dry paper towel to try to blot up the mess. “And whatever you were like then, you’re… less like that now. Like, anyone paying attention can see you’re kinda trying something new this year.”

Steve ignores the way that makes something catch in his throat. “Thanks for the endorsement,” he drawls. “I’ll put it on my college apps: Not as much of an asshole as I used to be.”

“It’s a start,” Munson says, and Steve glances up in time to see him shrug in the mirror.

“I guess,” Steve mutters.

“And, uh – hey, I grabbed your stuff,” Munson says, holding up the binder and notebooks that Steve’s attention had glossed over until now. “Some of it’s kinda… milky, sorry.”

Steve blinks. “Uh. Thank you,” he says, stunned for a moment into sincerity.

Munson shrugs again, putting Steve’s stuff up on the narrow shelf on the wall that no one ever uses to hold things because it’s probably never been cleaned. Not like Steve’s stuff is clean now, anyway.

Steve turns back to the sink, wetting a few of the paper towels and waiting to see if Munson is going to leave now.

“What I can’t figure out–” nope, apparently he’s staying, “–is why you’re in here punching the wall, instead of out there, punching Hargrove.”

At least that makes more sense; he’s here out of curiosity, not concern.

“I mean, most people would’ve hit him for that,” Munson goes on. “I would’ve.”

But Steve’s already shaking his head before Munson’s finished speaking. “Not worth it,” he says firmly.

“What, afraid of a little suspension?” Munson asks, almost teasing. “Pretty sure the school would let their golden boy off with a slap on the wrist.”

“Not anybody’s golden boy anymore,” Steve snaps, scrubbing a wet paper towel through his hair in a vain attempt to get some of the rapidly-drying milk out. “I dropped basketball, remember? Didn’t even go in for swimming this year.”

“Oh, yeah,” Munson says, like he’d genuinely forgotten. “Sorry, not really into the whole… sports scene. Like, at all.”

Steve shrugs. “Whatever. Not important. I don’t give a shit about being suspended. I don’t even care if he hits me back. Not like I need another knock to the head at this point, but – whatever.” Steve shakes his head. “It’s just that he could– there are other things he could do.”

In the mirror, Munson’s eyebrows go up. “What, does he have blackmail on you or some shit?”

Steve raises his brows right back. “If he did, do you really think I’d tell you?”

Munson tips his head to the side. “Yeah, okay, fair enough.”

“Anyway, he doesn’t have blackmail, he has… leverage, I guess.” Steve lets out a harsh sigh and gives up on his hair for now, wetting a paper towel to try to get some of the milk off his face and neck, instead.

“…are you allowed to tell me what that is?” Munson asks after a moment.

And for a moment, Steve thinks about it. The only people in school who really know are Nancy and Jonathan, and he’s asked them to follow his lead in just – not talking about it. He hasn’t told anybody any version of what happened in the Byers’ house, or why Billy seems to have made him his personal stress ball. But who the hell would Munson tell? All his nerdy friends in his game club?

(No, no, that’s not fair. Steve doesn’t even know those people, and he’s trying not to be that guy anymore. He doesn’t have to be nice, but he shouldn’t be unkind.)

(The point stands, though – who would Munson even tell?)

“Do you know why Hargrove beat my face in back in November?” Steve finally asks, avoiding Munson’s eyes in the mirror by focusing very hard on getting the tacky milk off his hairline.

“Well, I’ve heard most of the rumors by now, I think. Heard Hargrove’s version of events, as has pretty much everyone, I’m sure. Haven’t heard yours, though,” Munson says, his voice tilting up in interest. “I just figured it was because he hated you.”

Steve lets out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, well, you’re not wrong. But also…” He pauses for a moment, collecting his thoughts. “There are these kids I babysit. Sort of.”

“Sort of?” Munson presses.

“Well, most of the time it feels like they’re just ordering me around like a bunch of entitled shitheads. But I make sure they get where they’re going without, like, disappearing, and that they don’t have so much unsupervised time that they manage to get themselves killed,” Steve admits.

“Uh huh,” Munson says; he sounds… a little confused, but not disbelieving. “And you ended up with this gig, how?”

“It’s Nancy’s little brother, and his little nerd friends,” Steve says (he’s allowed to call them nerds because he knows them, and it’s true. And besides, it’s affectionate).

“Aaand you’re still doing it now? Even though you and Wheeler aren’t…”

Steve shrugs. “They grew on me. But that’s– that’s not the point. One of the kids is, uh. Hargrove’s stepsister. And the night me and Hargrove got into it, I guess she wasn’t supposed to be out.”

“Ah,” Munson says.

“Yeah.” Steve sighs, giving up on the milk as a bad job; he probably should’ve run off to the gym showers instead of a shitty bathroom. He turns and leans back against the sink, crossing his arms over his chest and staring at the floor near Munson’s scuffed sneakers. “So he came looking for her.”

“So… Not that I’m advocating handing over children to pieces of shit like him, but – like, wouldn’t it have been the technically correct thing to do, to send her home with what is legally a family member?” Munson asks.

Steve passes a hand over his face. “She was terrified,” he says quietly, feeling a little like he’s betraying Max’s trust by saying it out loud, by saying it to a stranger. “She was terrified of what he would do if he found her there, where she wasn’t supposed to be. Terrified of what he would do to one of the other kids if he caught them together, since he’d specifically warned her to stay away from him.”

“What’s wrong with this other kid?” Munson asks, brows furrowed.

“Nothing,” Steve bites out. “He’s smart, and he’s brave, and he’s, like, slightly less of an asshole than some of the others, but what Hargrove cared about is that he’s black.”

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Munson snaps, and Steve’s hackles raise, ready to defend his kid all over again if he has to, but before he can get anything else out, Munson goes on. “We already knew he was a racist piece of shit, but – a fucking kid?”

Steve subsides. “Yeah. A fucking kid. So I told them all to stay inside and I went out to try to head him off. Or at least keep him out of the house. Which, obviously, I failed at.” He lets out a derisive little laugh, aimed solely at himself. “He knocked me on my ass, knocked the wind out of me, got past me– and by the time I was able to get up, he was already– he was inside, and he had that kid by the collar, up against the wall– one of my fucking kids–” Steve breaks off, the same rage and terror from that night choking up in his throat again. After the day he’s had, his emotions are all too close to the surface, too near to bubbling out, and he rubs at his nose, trying to stave off the angry, exhausted tears he can feel pricking at the corners of his eyes. “So I decked him.”

“Good!” Munson exclaims, and for a moment Steve actually manages a real smile.

“Yeah,” he says. “Then he hit me back, which, like, obviously. I was expecting him to, but– I mean, I might’ve actually won that fight if the fucker hadn’t hit me in the head with a plate.”

The expression that crosses Munson’s face is almost comically shocked. “What?”

“Yeah,” Steve says again, running a hand over his jaw, thumbing almost unconsciously at the still-fading scar where the porcelain had sliced him open. “I’m a little fuzzy on shit after that. Like, I remember being on the floor, and him kneeling over me, and hitting me, and hitting me, and then– I dunno, nothing.”

Distantly, Steve realizes that the expression on Munson’s face has turned from ‘comically shocked’ to ‘mildly horrified,’ but he’s a little too lost in the blurry memory of that night to do much about it.

“Holy shit, how are you not dead?” Munson blurts out.

He looks like he immediately regrets asking, but Steve finds he’s actually grateful for the question. He’s glad to move the conversation along.

“Max.” He smirks over at Eddie. “Hargrove’s stepsister. I guess she, uh– threatened him with a baseball bat? Saved my ass.”

That’s a deep over-simplification, but Steve can’t think of a way to explain the presence of heavy sedatives in the Byers’ house, and, anyway, she had threatened him with a baseball bat. The kids had all taken great joy in reenacting the way Max had nearly neutered Hargrove with the nailbat, actually; it’s almost like Steve had been there (and conscious).

“Holy shit,” Munson says, and whichever part he’s referring to, Steve is inclined to agree.

“Yep. So I was out fucking cold at the time, but the kids all insist that she got him to agree to leave her and her friends alone, but…” Steve shakes his head. “Hargrove is a fucking psychopath. I don’t trust him to keep that promise. So, at least if he’s focused on me, he might leave her alone. But if I hit back…”

“You think he’ll retaliate by going after one of your kids,” Munson says, only a hint of teasing in his words at the end.

“I know he will,” Steve says; Hargrove had implied as much more than once. He crosses his arms back over his chest. “And they are my kids.”

Munson throws his hands up, as if in surrender, but he’s definitely smiling now.

“I’m serious,” Steve insists, close to smiling himself. “They think I’m stuck with them, but they’re the ones stuck with me.”

“Lucky them,” Munson says, and– what?

“What?” Steve asks.

“Look, you’re either a better actor than, like, everyone in the drama club, or you at least seriously believe what you told me, which is more than I can say for Hargrove and whatever shit he came up with about the two of you getting into it over… what, his car was better than yours? He’s better at laundry ball? I don’t fucking remember, and it doesn’t really matter, because it was clearly and pathetically fabricated,” Munson says with an authoritative nod. “You, at the very least, really give a shit about those kids. So, yeah. Lucky them.”

“Well,” Steve scrambles for a moment, trying to cover the way he actually feels like he might start fucking blushing, “if I’d known all I had to do to change your mind about me was tell you about a fight I lost, I’d have done it ages ago.”

And now Munson’s back to smirking at him. “Seeking my esteem that badly, Harrington?”

“What? No. I mean – not– not specifically yours, it’s just… like, there’s not really an easy or fast way to make up for being kind of a dick for the last… while.” Steve runs his hand through his hair, stopping with a grimace when he remembers the drying milk. “You just have to keep not being a dick and hope people give you a chance. So, like, compared to that, convincing you was easy.”

“And all you had to do was get a severe concussion first,” Munson drawls.

Steve rolls his eyes. “I didn’t say it was severe.”

“You got hit with a plate,” Munson deadpans, and Steve can’t quite help the resulting flinch, at which Munson almost immediately softens. “Sorry.”

Steve shakes his head. “It’s fine.”

Mouth screwed to the side, Munson eyes Steve for a moment, glancing over his shirt and up to his face before gesturing at him. “You want some help with that?”

Steve blinks at him. “What?”

“Your whole… hair situation. You could bend ov– like, you could lean over the sink and I could, uh. Try to rinse it for you. Or whatever,” Munson offers, awkward but apparently sincere.

It sounds like a stupid as hell way to try to rinse his hair. The sinks are small, and not exactly high off the ground; Steve would have better luck just going to the locker room and showering it all out. His soap is there, too, and an extra shirt.

On the other hand, Steve really doesn’t feel like leaving the bathroom yet. He’s pretty sure lunch is going to end soon, and encountering everyone during passing period sounds like a nightmare. In here, with Munson, it’s quiet. It feels almost safe.

“Yeah, sure,” Steve finally says, and Munson looks nearly shocked that he’s accepted.

Credit to him, though: he doesn’t back out. He just slides his jacket off, tosses it up over the wall of one of the bathroom stalls, rolls up his sleeves, and gestures for Steve to lean over the sink.

“Hot or cold?” he asks, going for the taps.

“Hot,” Steve answers immediately; he doesn’t need any other cold liquid on his head today.

“Hm.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” Munson says airily, turning on the water. “You just kinda strike me as a cold shower guy. Like, up at dawn, go for a run, take a cold shower – all that weird jock shit.”

It isn’t intended to mock, Steve realizes as Munson tests the water temperature—the school pipes take forever to heat up—but to tease. It’s a joke, and Steve is invited in on it. And anyway, it’s… actually kind of close to the mark, so Steve doesn’t say anything at all for a moment as he puts his head as close to the faucet as he can get it and Munson places one cupped hand over the back of his neck and uses the other to scoop water over Steve’s hair.

“Cold water is better for your hair. Not that you’d know anything about that.” Steve finally says, hoping that his own teasing tone carries even with the way he has to raise his voice to be heard over the running water.

Luckily, Munson sounds amused when he answers. “Oh! Shots fucking fired. I see how it is!” Even as he’s pretending at being offended, his fingers stay gentle against Steve’s scalp as he tries to scrub out the dried mess, and Steve fights very, very hard not to shudder.

He can’t remember when the last time someone touched him with gentle intent was. Maybe he’d gotten a hug from Dustin last week?

Shit, that’s fucking pathetic.

He tries even harder not to lean into the touch, into the surprisingly kind hands on the back of his neck and on his scalp, tries hard not to act like some kind of touch-starved weirdo and make Munson regret offering to help.

The irony of the fact that Steve is trying not to act like a freak in front of Eddie Munson is not lost on him.

After another couple of minutes of Munson manipulating Steve’s head this way and that, doing his best to be thorough, he lets Steve go entirely and shuts the water off.

“That’s probably as good as I’m gonna be able to get it,” he says, pushing another handful of paper towels at Steve as he stands up.

“Better than I could’ve done here,” Steve says with a shrug, rubbing the paper towels over his hair and grimacing as he can feel it frizzing in about a hundred different directions.

When he finishes, he turns to look in the mirror, watching in real time as it droops over his forehead and tickles at his wet shirt collar. Munson stands next to him, watching without judgement, but with what feels like an inappropriate amount of fascination.

“Well, I’m not going to lie to you,” Munson says at last, “you look a little like a sad, wet dog.”

Steve’s eyes snap to Munson with a glare. “Gee, thanks.”

“Some people are into that!” Munson insists, holding his hands up placatingly. “That droopy aesthetic, with the big, brown puppy eyes. Someone might just wanna scoop you up and take you home to take care of you. It’s a thing.”

Do you want to? – the question comes immediately and unbidden to Steve’s head, and he quickly shakes it away. They might be on amiable terms right now, teasing each other a little, but he isn’t sure that wouldn’t be a bridge too far.

(He isn’t even sure it is teasing. For a moment, he’d had the genuine urge to ask.)

“Anyway, I think most of the mess is out of your hair, but I’m pretty sure your shirt is toast,” Munson goes on, gesturing to the brown stain around the collar, over one shoulder, and probably down the back.

If he’d been wearing a darker color today, it might’ve been alright, but of course today he’d chosen light blue. Steve sighs, plucking at the front of the shirt. If he can’t salvage it, he might as well ditch it; it’s getting uncomfortably stiff and tacky with the dried milk, and he’d honestly rather stick it out in his undershirt for as long as it takes him to get to the locker room than walk around with evidence of Hargrove’s little stunt all over him.

He untucks the shirt and yanks it over his head, no need to be careful of his hair, emerging from the depths of it to find Munson staring at him in a stunned sort of silence.

“What?” Steve asks. “If it’s wrecked, anyway, I might as well get rid of it. I’ve got a spare shirt in my gym locker I can go grab.”

Munson blinks at him, almost like he’s trying to clear his head. “Or!” he practically shouts – possibly louder than he meant to, since he continues more quietly, “Or, you could just ditch for the rest of the day. I mean, you have any particularly interesting classes after lunch you feel the need to attend?”

“Not really,” Steve admits with a huff of a laugh. “But leaving after that feels a little like– letting Hargrove win. Like I’m retreating or some shit.”

“Nah, don’t think of it like that.” Munson tosses an arm over Steve shoulders, waving his other in front of both of them, like he’s trying to show Steve a grand vision and they aren’t both just staring at the ugly tile on the bathroom wall. “Think of it as cutting class and getting free weed from Hawkins High’s most esteemed dealer.”

Steve turns to look at Munson, staring at him more closely than he’s ever had reason to, and realizing there are tiny freckles on his face. “What, seriously?”

“Sure.” Munson shrugs. “Lemme smoke you out, Harrington. Seems like a good way to let your stress go for a bit – though I am just a little biased.”

“Why?” Steve asks; he doesn’t understand the sudden turn this day has taken, the sudden and bizarre kindness offered that he doesn’t even know what he’s done to deserve.

Munson’s eyes slide away from Steve, though his arm notably stays draped over his shoulders. “Been where you are. It’s not great. And, I mean, if it had happened last year, then, admittedly, I probably wouldn’t have given as much of a shit. Jock on jock violence, whatever. But you,” he glances back at Steve, “you’re genuinely trying to be, like, a good person. And I don’t think you should be punished for that. I think, in fact, that you could probably use a friend.”

“I…” The words stick in Steve’s throat, because what the hell can he even say to that? On anyone else, Steve would have assumed an ulterior motive, but Munson had infused it with so much awkward sincerity that Steve can’t help but realize it’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s said or offered to do for him in… he’s not even sure how long.

His silence must stretch on a little too long, though, because the hopeful light in Munson’s eyes fades a bit, and he begins to slide his arm off of Steve’s shoulder. “Or, y’know, you can tell me to fuck off, because I’m, like, way overstepping some boundaries, and–”

“We should go to my place,” Steve blurts, while grabbing Munson’s wrist for some insane reason.

“What?” Munson blinks over at him, (understandably) startled.

“My place. We should go there to smoke. If you still want to.” Steve could cringe for how stilted the whole thing is coming out. “I want to be able to take a real shower.”

Munson stares at him for a moment longer before laying a hand over his heart with a gasp, suddenly leaning heavily into Steve’s side and forcing Steve to wrap an arm around his waist so they don’t both lose their balance.

“I see how it is!” Munson gasps dramatically. “My sink shower just wasn’t good enough!”

Steve holds in a laugh. “Your sink shower was… fine. But I’ve got milk dried in other uncomfortable places, so unless you want to wash my back for me, too, we should go back to mine.”

Munson’s gaze snaps back to Steve, something a little odd in it, and – oh. Oh, that hadn’t sounded quite like Steve had meant it. It had sounded a little like an offer of the kind you don’t go around making to just anybody.

Steve braces himself, waiting for the reaction (he doubts if Munson would get any kind of physical, but there will probably be an awkward pulling away and sudden remembering of something he has to do literally anywhere else that afternoon), but all Munson does is break into a sly smile and say, “I could, but I’d have to charge you extra.”

Steve can’t help it: he laughs, giving Munson a good-natured shove, who finally releases Steve but doesn’t stumble more than a couple of steps away.

“Meet you at my place?” Steve offers, balling up his shirt and dropping it on top of his notebooks as he grabs them from the shelf. “Half an hour?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” Munson gives him a corny little salute before grabbing his jacket from over the stall wall and preceding Steve to the bathroom door.

“Munson,” Steve finds himself calling out, just as the other boy’s hand closes around the door handle; Munson glances back and Steve fights the urge to look away. “Uh. Thanks. For, like… yeah. Thanks.”

Whatever meaning Munson takes out of Steve’s absolutely eloquent verbal vomit of gratitude, it makes him smile. “No need for thanks, man,” he says. “I’m honestly a little surprised to say it, but the pleasure was definitely mine.”

And then he disappears out the door, leaving Steve in the bathroom wondering how the hell his day had taken this turn, and just what destination it’s leading him to.

And thinking that he’s honestly a little excited to find out.

[sagaduwyrm]

DCxDP Idea - Tucker x Tim Soulmate AU:

Now on AO3

So the Justice League believes the Fentons and the GIW. Not completely, but enough. That’s the bad news. The worse news is that they have Danny, and are apparently planning to use him in some kind of spell to banish all the ghosts from the living plane. Which, okay, sure, not the worst idea, except that trying to banish a Liminal is a great way to kill them instead, and guess what everyone in Amity Park is? Not to mention what powering such a ritual could do to Danny.

Tucker is not having a panic attack. He might have one later, but right now he has a job to do.

So the thing about the Justice League is that they’re powerful and together they cover each other’s weaknesses, but individually they are, if not manageable, then at least survivable. They can’t take on the entire league, but Ghosts and their ilk have fangs for a reason, and every predator knows how to divide and conquer.

Technus and Skulker are using Lex Luthor’s tech to deal with the Supers. Jazz has got emotional manipulation and FrightKnight’s sword to take down the Flashes. Desiree agreed to start a mage’s duel with the Justice League Dark. Sam, Ember, Johnny, and Kitty hopefully have the watchtower in hand, with Walker playing backup to get Danny free.

Tucker has two jobs. One, work with Technus to take down the Justice League communications without making it look like anything is up. Two, for the love of the Ancients, do not let the Bats realize something is wrong.

And you know what? He’s got this. Duul Aman was the most feared sorcerer of his time. Tucker isn’t him, not really, but he’s no slouch in the magic department. Egyptian magic, the way Duul Aman knew it, was almost like code. Relearning it was as easy as breathing, but the real reason Tucker’s job is to deal with the bats is because he took it further than his last life ever could. Sure, he’s a dab hand at illusions, his curses are almost as nasty as Sam’s, and instant sandstorms are never not useful, but where he really thrives is with tech. Afterall, if ectoplasm can be combined with computers, why can’t magic?

Tucker is the world's first technomage and he’s goddamn proud of it.

It’s his saving grace now. Infiltrating Oracle’s system took weeks, and he still wasn’t able to look at or do anything important, but it was enough of an opening for his magic. He wormed his illusion through every single piece of bat-tech he could reach, whispering in their ear, Gotham needs you. The Justice League is fine. Gotham is where the problems are. 

Weeks of work and sleepless nights, and he still doubts he’ll be able to keep them from noticing anything for more than a few hours. Luckily, by that time Danny will be free and Tucker will be long gone from Gotham.

This confidence lasts until he brushes hands with another guy in the cafe. He can feel the bond snap into place, a soulmark crawling across his body. Tim Drake stares at him, eyes wide but sharp. 

Tim Drake.

Red Robin.

Shit.

Time to see whether fighting ghosts extends to fighting humans, because he is not letting this asshole mess up Danny’s rescue.

+++

The first thing Tim notices when he meets his soulmate is the rage in the man’s eyes.

They’re really pretty eyes. A bright, glowing gold, lined in kohl. Almost certainly a sign of magic. 

They look at him like the man wants to turn him inside out and burn the remains. Tim’s a little offended, beneath the shock and awe.

“Fuck,” the man hisses. Tim’s offense is starting to supersede his surprise. He’s a catch, thank you very much.

He says as much. The man laughs, and it’s almost friendly.  The cafe is empty. The people of Gotham have good instincts, and there’s something in the air around this man that puts Tim’s hackles up.

“You know, I think that’d be more believable if you hadn’t started this.”

Tim’s brow wrinkled. He felt like he’d remember starting something with his soulmate though? What was he supposed to have started, anyway? Saying ‘this’ wasn’t very specific. 

He rolled and dodged to avoid the sudden lash of golden sand. Ah. A fight. He could do that. Figure out why his soulmate was angry later, defeat him now.

He reached up to call for backup and only got static.

Shit.

He was on his own. Time to show this bastard why underestimating a bat was a bad idea.

[mookiesspace]

《《 𝑇𝑂𝑋𝐼𝐶 𝑃𝐴𝑅𝑇 2 》》

ony x black fem reader , implied cheating , strong language , smut , angst , toxic relationship , jealous ony , picture links , images in story , pov switch (reader to ony back to reader) , mdni 18+

a/n: this was sooo time consuming and I feel like I really did my one two on ts 😩 !! I hope the pov switch ain't confuse nb so that's why I put onys pov in green (when you get to the switch) & readers pov is in white ! && ony is represented with a "☆" above his pov while readers is "♡"

♡

**beep! beep! beep! bee-** the sound of your alarm before smacking it off. "shit.." you mumbled. you seriously didn't wanna get up after last night. damn what did happen last night for you to be so dam tired?? "damn 7:30 already? it's to damn early for this shit broo." you moaned forcing yourself outta bed while lazily dragging your body to the bathroom. looking in the mirror you sluggishly rub your eyes while your other hand ran your fingers thru your messy hair, slowly opening your big brow eyes to see your reflection in the mirror while getting ready to start your day.

"fuck.. why did i do that." sighing softly. right. you slept with ony again. why did this become such a natural thing?? why couldn't you just leave that stupid nigga alone, what was so hypnotizing about him that couldn't make you pull away?? walking to your messy bed you find a note lying on the dresser next to it reading 'sorry about last night mama, meet at 8 tonight so I can make it up to ya?' groaning at the note you quickly balled it up before tossing it into the trash. you had other things to focus on and worry about, other things excluding ony. he of all the was the last thing you needed to worry about yet along see. you were growing sick of the constant fighting and fucking all over the same shit, him being a no good cheating ass nigga. what you finally needed was a night out, a night to focus on you and your life damn well not his! you didn't belong to him, damn you ain't belong to anyone you're a boss bitch and you deserve better. and well all know you were gonna get it if it's the last thing you did!

"damnn bitch you i missed youuu!!" sasha squealed squeezing you tightly it had been forverr since you seen your girls sasha & mikasa and like always it was never a dull moment with the two "we missed you boo, how you been?" mikasa added pulling sasha off you. "shitt ion even know anymore," you giggled before taking a sip of your drink "I did fuck on ony last night tho.." you muttered "YOU WHAT BITCH??" "didn't he cheat on you? GIRL you need to sta-" "stay away from that no good ass nigga yes I know sasha. whatchu think I've been doing?" you groaned slouching onto the couch beneath you "clearly not good enough if you let him into yo panties." mikasa snickered at you an sasha's annoyance "don't laugh and help me!!" you whined only for mikasa to sigh loudly "I'm with sash on this one boo, ony's no good and you know that." "ughhh you two are so frustrating" groaning again as the two giggled with one another "let's just go out tonight hm? like we used to do! that'll get ya mind off him for sure" sasha implied. at first, going out sounded like a bad idea.. what if you ran into ony? what if he tried to talk to you and you gave in all over again?? what if- "cmon girl it's been forever!! pleaseeeee" your best friend begged. rolling your eyes while deeply sighing you gave in "ok ok. let's do it, I need a distraction anyways.." your friends cheered lovingly as they planned the entire night out but all you could think about is how badly you wanted ony still, you missed him. the old him.. him touch, his taste, his affection.. his everything. but that was over now, it's been over and now all you really needed was that night out. a night without thinking about anything but you and yo girls, a night without him.

"fuck I look good.." you muttered while looking in your tall bedazzled mirror. yeah you were bound to get some tonight and it wasn't gonna be with him that's for sure. you pull out your phone to post a pic on instagram posing in your big living room mirror, arching your back ever so slightly giving the perfect view of your round fat ass while lookin bad as fuck now waiting to link up with your girls for the best night ever.

☆

"yea bro ionk I for real miss ha" he sighed, taking a long hit of the blunt before passing it to his homeboy eren, man spreading as he pulls out his phone to browse her instagram. "damnn man, I mean I wouldn't be surprised if she ain't tryna fuck with you again." eren added, Connie snickering alongside him in response. "mann you ain't helpin. and shut yo ass up connie that's why she didn't want yo ugly ass" the man groaned, connie following with an irritated sigh before hitting the shared blunt. "not my fault you cheated, man you seriously fucked up & I ain't ugly ho" he replied with an eye roll. ony knew what the two were saying was true but he seriously didn't mean it, he got drunk and it jus happen.. it shouldn't of happen he knew that.. he shouldn't have went to that damn party, he shouldn't have fought with you that day. maybe if he just listened to you.. things would be back to normal.. well not anymore shit what is there left to redeem? everything was all fucked up- "DAMNNN" connie laughed, what was that nigga lookin at?? "oh shitt bro, you definitely ain't getting her back now" eren added, laughing with connie in response. "huh?" raising an eyebrow he snatches erens phone to see not only you at a party you had no business being at but your his ass backed up against that no good ass nigga jean. "hell na." he huffed growing irritated by the second before reaching for his own phone to text his babygirl..

the tall man gritted his teeth harshly, rubbing his fingers through his waves. "fuck wrong wit-" "I'm thinking." seconds pass with pure silence. Eren and Connie's suspension rose quickly before he spoke sternly. "ight pull up y/n location and let's go." "whatcu finna do crazy??" eren spoke, rising an eyebrow, connie nodding in agreement. "what I say?" the two men watch as their homeboy took off out the front door, clearly leaving to his car. "mannn, if he shoot up the place again, im go be pissed." "still wondering how he managed to cheat on ha and STILL be crazy about that girl." they both share a laugh before heading out the door themselves to follow behind ony.

♡

you scoff loudly, kissing your teeth in pure irritation. "jean babyyyy.." you speak softly into the man's ear, voice silk like smooth honey, running your long manicured nails up and down his neck. "what's up baby?" he spoke, big hands gripping at your waist ever so tightly sending shivers down your spine. "let's go somewhere more.. private.." standing you your tippy toes you lean into his ear while your hands explored his muscular body "she needs you baby.." that along made his dick grow hard, a sly smirk began to display on his face as he grabbed your hand and began walking with you through the crowd of people. safely making it twords a secluded area you hear your phone ding, you roll your eyes knowing the text was most likely from ony, or so you thought.. *ding!* *ding!* *ding!!* "damn mama who blowing yo shit up?" jean chuckled as he rubbed fat of your ass "no one it doesn't matter, let's go baby" you added, following along to the door moving yet through a crowd of people once again. the faster tou get outta here the fucking better you thought, just seconds after you feel a strong hand grip onto your wrist pulling you back "Hey!?! what the fuc-" words cut off once you were facing the one man you prayed not to run into tonight. Onyankopon.. "fuck you doin here?" he growled, looking up to see that you clearly weren't alone he scoffed, sucking his teeth as he looked the other man up and down "and you tryna leave this this pussy ass nigga?" laughing he rested his other hand on his forehead, licking hip plump pink lips, his gold grillz peaking out. You snatched your wrist away from him and rolled your eyes moving back towards Jean "we ain't together Ony, and last time I checked it wasn't yo damn business who I talk to or go with. I'm a grown woman" "yeah well you MY woman, so bring yo lil ass over here and let's go before shit stir up." he barked back, God you hated how he always had to say something you glared at him intensely, feeling the heat of the situation rise more and more. just before you could say something else to end things Jean let out a low laugh "fucks funny nigga." ony now glaring at jean, both men & you now slowly becoming the center of attention, what you didn't want tonight. "baby let's jus' go-" "funny how you claim she's yo girl, yet she here with me?" he spoke, a smirk appearing on his face as he looked directly at ony. shit, he's mad. really mad. you can see him clutching his fist while eyes you and him. "got nothing to say pussy? or are you just mad yo 'girl' ain't really yo-" BAM! before you knew it jean was knocked the fuck out on the ground, the crowd was filming and shouting all kinds of shit, all while you were being pulled away by Ony..

"s-shit! ony slow downnn AH!" your pretty little moans falling against deaf ears fuck why was he fucking you so rough? your wet pussy was clenching around him so tightly sending sparks and tingles right down to his already hard dick. "y-you always gotta show out, almost got that pussy ass nigga f-fucked up... shit.." he groaned, big hand sending harsh, firm slaps to your plump brown ass "ion give no fucks whatchu say mama, we gon' work thi shit out. ya hear me?" he grunts, low eyes shooting daggers at the back of your head. you can feel how hot the tension is but you can't focus, how long has it been?? your pussy is so stuffed and full you can barely speak as it is, head sinking down into the pillow you let out more shallow cries and moans, choking on your own tears and hiccups as his pace speeds up, and his thrusts deepen inside you "I'm talking to you girl." he's basically demanding a response, no. he IS demanding a response from you, sending more angry slaps to your fat ass he grabs you by the back of the neck pulling your limp body up against his "answer me." he demands, pussy clenching tighter against his thick dick your head hangs low "I- I can'ttt... ugahhh" you mumbled, words all twisted and fucked up worse than before. it feels so good, to damn good. he let's out a low chuckle before flipping you over on your back, grabbing ahold your neck before fucking you dumber "ian got no time for games mama you hear me?" thrusting harder than before at his last few words making you yelp "y-yes! fuckkkk onnyyy!!" you cry, you feel your stomach bubble and thighs tighten as he's deep in you, your soft gummy walls sending shivers down his spine making the pleasure better than it was before. he let's go of his tight grip around your neck, as you try catching your breath he pulls your body up hugging onto your smaller frame, your long nails now clawing at his back leaving all kinds of marks for whoever to see eyes crossing, toes curling and mouth slightly agape as drool pool out. he's biting his bottom lip, now gripping your ass even tighter, spanking it again roughly. "you look so beautiful mama.. I missed this." he moaned out, fuck it feels so good you thought. you're unable to even speak, still mumbling whatever mess can come out of your pretty little mouth. you can feel your body growing stiff as you're getting close to your realse. "Onnnyyyyyyy-" you whined out, nails digging into his back yet again. he let's out a low grunt "I know mama, I know." he's fucking you so deep it feel so surreal you can't help but shove your head into his broad shoulders while chasing after your soon sweet release. "I'm sooo closee.. f-fuckkkk onyy~" you moaned, sounding so fucking perfect, looking so fucking perfect he thought. "let it out mama.." and before you knew it, you feel your lower body burst, juices spilling everywhere coating the bed and yourselves in your sweet arousal, ony quickly following behind filling you up so deeply.. so lovingly. you both sigh heavily, nothing but short quick deep breaths and low groans filling the room as he lays you down, slowly pulling out of you watching his cum pour out only to take his tumb and stuff it all back in "this pussy is mine ma, don't do no shit like that again ya hear me?" he grumbled, low eyes staring into yours. "yes ony.." your response causing him to raise a brow "yes daddy." you spoke lowly, looking up at him with wide doe eyes as he smirks, smile growing into a sick grin allowing his grillz to appear once again.

your body feels heavy, you sit up picking up your phone to check the time and your group chat with your girls.

"shit." you mumbled, rubbing your head lightly only to feel a thick arm wrap around your waist "what's wrong, ma?" turning next to you to see ony still in bed eyes still closed as he yawned "nothin, jus' the girls.." "mhm" silence. your chest feels heavy as you ponder with your thoughts, lost at words as you stare at the tall man next to you. ony pulls your body closer, you falling down right next to him, his arm now fully wrapped around you as you lay together in silence. "look at me, mama." he mutters lowly, voice smooth and clear. you turn to look at him, big brown eyes staring at his now opened one's, you look so beautiful right now.. morning sunlight, hitting your beautiful brown skin, he takes his hand rubbing his thumb against your plush cheek, kissing it gently. "Ian go leave you," he whispers, cool morning rushing against your skin causing you to shake. you wanna believe him, you really do.. but how many chances do you have to give him before you're really close to nothing? "I love you, y/n. I mean that." your heart starts to beat faster than usual as your eyes swell up with tears. "Ony-" "Ma, I wanna make this right." It's all to much.. "I can't keep doing this immature ass shit, I hurt you, baby, trust me, I know. I have to live with that guilt every damn day. I wish ian do it, I really do but baby I promise it was a mistake. something that should've never happened. I miss you ma, I miss us.." there they are. salty tears run down your cheek, ony wipes them away as he pulls you closer hugging you tightly. "how do I know I can trust you Onyankopon? I don't wanna go through this shit anymore.." "You won't have to baby, I promise. I just need you to trust me.. trust that I'll make it right.." you hesitate before speaking, trying to collect your thoughts. he kisses your head lighlty squeezing you tighter "we all the time in the world, don't worry ma. no rush.."

[luveline]

jade i was wondering if i could request smth where steve and his gf are out and he leaves really quick to go do something and when he comes back he see his girl crying, so he gets all worried and protective, but later realizes she’s crying happy tears?

i hope that made some sense. tysm!! i LOVE your writing

“You’re not close enough,” Steve says. He’s annoyed, just a smidge, but nothing with malice as he wraps his arm around you to tug you into frame. “I’ve only got so many.” 

“Stop complaining,” you say, shuffling as flush to his side as you can be. 

Steve smells like heaven. He has nice arms, a better smile, and he’s pressing a grin to your cheek as he turns the camera to take your photo. It’s hard to do it back to front, but nobody’s around to take the photograph for you. 

It flashes. The Polaroid pops out with a chug, though the picture has yet to develop. 

“Camera’s should come with more film,” you say, blinking the shock of the flash from your pupils. A white ring stays floating in the air, kissing his nose as you turn toward him again. 

“Camera’s should have unlimited film. How the fuck am I supposed to take enough photos of you if every one costs ten cents? I’ll be broke by August.” 

Steve puts the camera down. He’s in sweatpants and a hoodie, your favourite outfit on him. You fell in love with the idiot who wears tight jeans and polos, but you stay in love with the guy he is in the evenings, when he gets on the line begging you to come over, to move in, to see yourself to his hip and stay forever. It’s more than encouraging to be liked loudly. I love you’s are new between you and he doesn’t seem to notice, he passes them out like candy. Broke the dam and can’t stop saying it. 

“And it’ll be okay,” he says, taking your fave into both hands. “‘Cos shit, I love you.” 

“I love you,” you say softly. 

He grins. A tender kiss is interrupted before it can occur, shocked out of happening by the landline ringing on the wall. “Shit, that might be Robin. I’ll be right back,” he promises. 

He tumbles off of the couch to rush to the kitchen where the phone rings, and you sit there with your heart pounding, wondering how you got this lucky. You always thought you’d never be loved, that there was something fundamentally wrong with you that stopped affection in its tracks. Then you met Steve, and he’s been unapologetic about how much he wants you. He asked for a date ten minutes after you met, another one when the first was barely over. Things went so well he didn’t have to ask you to be his girlfriend, he just sort of stuck to you like he’d been glued on, but he did ask eventually, and the answer (undoubtedly a yes) had seemed to shock him anyway. 

Steve’s just crazy for you. 

He’s so pretty, so sweet, so funny. He doesn’t get how much of a catch he is, all that fake confidence hiding a loser who loves like breathing. 

You’re as happy as you’ve ever been in your whole life. The tears come naturally, small, warm beads that slip down your cheeks unhurried. 

You take the photo you’d just posed for and hold it up to your eye level. It’s a cheesy couple’s picture —Steve looks like he adores you, and you look like you’re burning up with joy. 

You sniff and hold the photo primly in both hands against your lap. 

“Baby?” 

You sniff again, wiping your cheeks as you turn to Steve’s concerned voice in the door. “Hey. Sorry.” 

“Don’t cry,” he says, sitting down where he’d been, couch cushion dipping under his weight. “Hey, please don’t.” 

“No, sorry.” You pass him the photo. “It’s just a really good photo.” 

He pauses. His eyes flicker between you and the photo, your wet cheeks and the frame of you with your face leaning into his kiss. 

“It’s great,” he agrees, arm behind your shoulders. “Happy tears, right? I don’t have to beat anybody up?” 

You tip your head to encourage a kiss that he gives immediately. Insanely happy tears. “You’d have to beat yourself up,” you say. 

“You think I wouldn’t? For you?” 

You laugh wetly and slouch into his arms. “Don’t be stupid.” 

“That’s my middle name. Right before Lover.” 

Steve ‘Stupid Lover’ Harrington? You laugh and demand more kisses, the kind he probably shouldn’t take a photo of.