#it's going to get worse before it gets better

[bunny-jpeg]

the customer is always right

simon 'ghost' riley

tags: smut/pwp, plug!reader, biker!simon, rough sex, semi-public sex, rough wall sex, mean!simon, mentions & use of recreational drugs, dub-con (!!!), breeding kink, dark themes

a/n: wow that was something!

simon knew when the trust his gut. it was what kept him alive for so long. good things didn't come to those who tried to over-think things and just like emotion take over. problem was, sometimes the gut wasn't right and simon may go a little overboard.

moments like that were also what had kept him alive for this long. but maybe he was overacting when he got in your face, little plastic baggie in his hand (damn thing had hearts printed on it for christ sake). he may have been a touch too mean.

"ya fuckin' bitch." he snapped, "tryin' to over-charge me. is that what they teach ya nowadays?"

"what the fuck are you talking about?" you snapped back, "you asked and you received. all of them are there. the weed, the xanax, it's all there." you pointed to the baggie, "and if you don't like it then take a hike." and turned away, but you didn't get far before simon grabbed you by the shoulder and hit you up against the wall.

"nah, nah. not very good customer service are ya. jeez, i remember i at least had the decency to please and thank you when i sold." he towered over you, much stronger than you could ever. your forehead hit against the brick wall and you felt tears in your eyes.

"simon... c'mon." you said, "i'm not fucking around here." and yelped when you felt his hands go up your skirt. his large, rough hand grasped your ass and gave it a firm squeeze.

"c'mon, what? that you're a cheat and a liar. thinkin' that you can pout that fat bottom lip and no one would be counting what you shaved off? i hope you know there are worse men out there than me. fuck with them and you'll be found in pieces." he pressed into you, his hard on in his jeans rubbed against you behind.

"please, simon." you said.

"shh, shh. i'm tryin' to right a wrong here. the customer is always right, right? ya only give the best to those who are payin' and since you tried to scam me out. only fair that i get a little return on what i paid for. and if it isn't drugs, well, i'll have to find somethin' else." he pulled your panties down and kept you against the wall by the back of your neck.

he got his cock out of his jeans and rubbed his cock up against your ass. he exhaled deeply, "love the smell of good pussy before i light up for the evenin'." he chuckled, "ah, that's is. mmm, should be selling this. but, actually, maybe i should keep it to myself. yeah?"

you didn't know what yo say. you had to keep quiet. you were currently in the alleyway between the biker bar that simon owned and a convenience store that got a fair bit of foot traffic.

"yeah, keep ya on my arm at the bar. better yet, get ya off this dealer shit and back into the kitchen. measure flour and sugar rather than weed and cocaine." he groaned as he kept his cock throb as he held it against you behind. slow up and down movements against you. he still kept you pinned.

"simon."

"ah, ya want it, doll." he chuckled, "ya want me. i can smell it on ya." he sniffed for dramatic effect as he rubbed up against you further, "mmm. ya like that." his voice was dangerous as he sank into your cunt.

easy fit, maybe a little bruising. but, simon would kiss it all better with the tip of his cock. maybe rub some of his cum against the bruises for good measure. you moaned against the wall and your short nails dragged across the brick wall.

he moved against you quickly. his pace was bruising and it made you pant heavily against the wall. he slapped your ass and then struck his fingers in your mouth when he felt you got too loud.

"keep ya home, keep ya with the brats. better than this. i can handle it all, you just stay home." he moved against you, "mama don't gotta think, she just gotta handle the home, right?" he felt your cunt squeeze around his cock and he chuckled to himself as he moved against you faster.

you moaned around his fingers and he only pushed into you further. you choked out a noise as he held you jaw, still keeping you quiet. his cock hit against all the right spots and it made you have spots in your vision. the feeling was so strong that it made you unable to fully process what was going on. how it felt to be fucked this way, with a man so much larger and so much more terrifying.

"that's it. won't sell ya for a quick buck. only i'll keep this greedy pussy filled right?" his pace continued and you were on another planet. rationality died in your head and replaced with the wet feeling between your legs.

being manhandled like this, subjected to his brutal paces. there was little affection, but simon would make it up to you. it's not going to all take in one night. he'd need to work his achy cock into you a few more times. he felt the heat in his body as he fucked you.

you moaned around his fingers and let him use you as he pleased. your legs were shaky but he kept you upright. you moaned around his digits.

"that's it beautiful. wow, this is the customer service i like to see." he purred into your ear as he continued to rut against you. he knew you weren't paying attention to a damn thing he was saying. but, still you felt good. nice cunt for him to fuck.

"simon." you tried to say around his fingers. but he kept fucking you like a man on a mission. your eyes rolled back when you felt the climax hit you like a train. your cunt clamped down on his cock and you finished around him.

you slumped further against the grimy brick wall and you cursed when he took his fingers out of your mouth. he slapped your ass and looked out of the alley as he fucked you with a heavier pace. his hips slammed against your ass.

"fuck, baby. look at ya." he groaned as his pace kept up. he moved against you, fucked you up against he wall like he owned you. he kept his pace steady as he felt the climax in his gut. he kept fucking you eagerly and felt the throb in his core.

a few more heavy thrusts and he shoved he took his cock out to the tip, but still came inside of you. like spurts of cum hit against the deepest parts of you. he gripped your ass and said, "did ya a favour and pulled you a little. still got my boys in ya though." his accent heavy due to the lust, "keep 'em safe will ya."

you were barely focused on the roughness of the brick under your cheek.

he pulled out and got his sticky cock into his jeans. he zipped them up and you nervously got your panties back over your ass. globs on his cum stained the front of your panties.

you were on shaky legs as he took you by the arm. you looked up at him and felt meek. you felt conflicted, your core still shivering. your bottom lip wobbled as he rubbed your eyes.

"ah, i'm here, doll." he said softly, "why don't we get in your car and remeasure everythin'. seems like baby girl doesn't know how to do her measurments." he patted your behind and gave a smile under his mask.

you had no words, you just got fucked in an alley way and your mind was still a tangled knot of yarn. you leaned on him further for support.

"don't worry, i'm here now. and we'll get them just right." he yanked you a little harder then you hopes as he said, "no time to waste beautiful. you better not have messed up too many of the measurements, or else we'll have to right those wrongs all over again. because why, doll?"

you whimpered, "the customer's always right?"

"yes he is."

[jehan-d-art]

I mean those are some serious bedroom eyes while nearly getting stabbed... it's even more wild if one has watched this scene and knows he actually grabs onto the knife handle to direct it at his own heart...

... and eventually their mutual distrust turns into mutual devotion, causing both of them to want to burn down the entire world for what they have left (which, for both of them, includes the other as part of their most beloved people). where have I seen this before...

oh, yeah, right. there's a reason why I named one of my stories 'between distrust and devotion' because I just mean, come on: enemies to lovers is already an incredible trope but to have it be about people who make each other better but also worse is so much more fun (to me at least, if it's done right). and now to my actual point of me rambling like that: jwds = praise kink (I mean, a certain someone clearly liked being called pretty) gahan = choking kink (there is just so much choking going on in this series, one could mean Ga On was actually trying to get Yo Han to put his hands around his throat by any means possible)

Matching your freak is beautiful and all but what you really need is a boy who's infatuated with your freak. Down bad for your freak. Deeply intrigued by your freak. Eager to see more of your freak. Supportive of your freak. Gets bricked up witnessing your freak, even.

[mmso-notlikethat]

for a fic prompt, what about primary school teacher tommy and single dad buck meet-cute 🥺🫶

you probably forgot about this, but just so you know Alex started here 😶‍🌫️ Also uh it got to more than just a meet-cute

“Dad, we’re gonna be late!” Alex exclaimed, his small hands tugging at the blanket Buck had pulled over his head. His six-year-old energy was relentless as he hopped on the bed, shaking his dad's shoulder.

Buck groaned dramatically, burrowing further into the covers. “Five more minutes, buddy,” he mumbled, his voice muffled as he rolled onto his stomach. “Late for what? School doesn’t even start until next week”

“It starts today!” Alex huffed, climbing onto Buck’s back. “You promised you’d wake up early so I wouldn’t be late! My teacher’s gonna think I’m the kid with the lazy dad!”

That got Buck’s attention. He peeked out from under the blanket, grinning. “Lazy, huh? You’re pretty brave, calling me names when I’m this close to tickling you.”

Alex gasped, trying to back away, but Buck was too fast. With a playful growl, he lunged, wrapping his arms around Alex and tackling him onto the bed. “You think you can just insult me and get away with it?”

“Dad! Nooo!” Alex shrieked between bursts of laughter as Buck’s fingers attacked his sides. “I’m serious! We really are gonna be late!”

Buck finally let him go, sitting up and ruffling Alex’s bedhead. “Alright, alright, you win. Let’s get you to school before your teacher thinks your dad’s a total slacker”

Alex hopped off the bed, already halfway to the kitchen. “You better not make me late, Dad!” he called over his shoulder.

I.

Buck knew mornings were a battlefield, but nothing prepared him for the chaos of getting his son, to his new school on time. He prepared almost everything the night before—laid out clothes, packed the lunch, even double-checked Alex’s backpack—but somehow, chaos still found a way. Between trying to locate Alex’s missing sneaker (it had somehow ended up in the fridge) and making sure the snack he packed met the “no nuts, no sugar” rule, Buck was already sweating before 8 a.m.

“See? Right on time,” Buck said triumphantly, unbuckling his seatbelt.

Alex, however, was already halfway out of his seat. “Barely,” he muttered, clutching a slightly crumpled drawing of a fire truck—his pride and joy—ready to show off on his first day.

“Hey, cut your old man some slack,” Buck called after him, grabbing Alex’s backpack from the passenger seat and jogging to catch up as his son bolted toward the school entrance.

The chaos didn’t stop at the school gate. As Buck jogged to catch up with Alex, the coffee cup in his hand wobbled dangerously. He didn’t even notice the man walking out of the classroom until it was too late.

Hot coffee sloshed out of the cup as Buck collided with someone tall and solid, soaking the other man’s neatly pressed shirt.

“Oh, crap—sorry, sorry, sorry!” Buck blurted, immediately trying to dab at the man’s chest with the sleeve of his own hoodie.

The man held up a hand, smiling despite the situation. “It’s okay! I’ve survived worse—though maybe not before 9 a.m.”

Buck stopped mid-dab, his apology dying on his lips as he looked up into bright blue eyes. The guy was gorgeous. Clean-cut, tall, and with the kind of easy smile that could probably calm a room full of screaming kids.

“I—uh—sorry again,” Buck stammered. “First day at a new school, and we’re already making enemies.”

The man chuckled, glancing down at his shirt. “It’s just coffee. Nothing a spare shirt won’t fix.” He held out a hand. “I’m Tommy Kinard, the first-grade teacher.”

Buck blinked, taking his hand. “Oh. Wow. Great. Yeah—uh—I’m Buck— Buckley. Uh—Evan... Buckley. Alex’s dad.” he said, pointing over his shoulder toward Alex.

Tommy raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by Buck’s flustered demeanor. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Buckley. Alex seems to be settling in just fine—he’s already making friends.”

Buck glanced at Alex, who was already chatting animatedly with another kid across the room. “Well, at least one of us is thriving.”

Tommy smiled. “You’re doing fine. First days are always an adventure. Just maybe avoid coffee collisions next time,” he said, his eyes flicking briefly to their still-clasped hands before meeting Buck’s gaze again.

Buck suddenly realized he was still gripping Tommy’s hand and quickly released it, his ears burning. “Oh! Uh, sorry about that.”

Tommy’s smile widened, clearly amused.

“Fair point—about the coffee! And, uh, if you ever need someone to return the favor and spill coffee on your enemies, I’m your guy,” Buck added, trying to recover.

Tommy tilted his head, his nose scrunching with his smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

As Tommy turned back toward the classroom, Buck exhaled shakily, his breath hitching as he muttered to himself, Oh boy.

II.

Buck had barely recovered from the coffee incident when he found himself nervously adjusting his shirt in the mirror for Parent-Teacher Night. It wasn’t like him to care this much about his appearance, but something about Tommy—Mr. Kinard, he corrected himself—had stuck with him.

As Buck stepped into the brightly decorated classroom, he immediately spotted Tommy. He was standing by a bulletin board covered in colorful artwork, smiling as he spoke to another parent. Buck’s stomach did a weird little flip.

“Mr. Buckley,” Tommy greeted warmly as he finished up his conversation and approached. “Good to see you again. No coffee this time?”

Buck chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not today. Figured I’d avoid the risk.”

Tommy smiled. “Smart choice. Alex has been settling in really well, by the way. He’s a great kid.”

“Thanks,” Buck said, his chest swelling with pride. “He loves it here—and he won’t stop talking about you, by the way. ‘Mr. Kinard is so cool. Mr. Kinard can draw fire trucks better than me.’”

Tommy laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Well, I’m glad to know I’ve impressed him. Though I think his fire truck skills might outshine mine soon.”

As they chatted, Buck shifted nervously, trying to look relaxed. But in his fidgeting, he bumped into a small table holding a stack of construction paper and art supplies, sending them toppling to the floor with a loud clatter.

“Oh, no,” Buck groaned, crouching down immediately to try and fix the mess. “Sorry—sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

Tommy crouched down beside him, biting back a smile as his shoulder brushed against Buck’s. “It’s fine, really. Happens all the time. These tables are magnets for chaos.”

Buck glanced up, meeting Tommy’s amused gaze, his face flushing. “I swear I’m usually more coordinated.”

Tommy chuckled, handing him a pile of papers. “You’re doing fine, Mr. Buckley. Though I might have to ban you from coffee and art supplies.”

They both laughed, the tension easing as they stood. They chatted for a few more minutes after that, Buck feeling more at ease with every word. By the time the evening ended, Buck was walking out of the school with a smile he couldn’t quite shake—and a lingering warmth from the way Tommy’s shoulder had felt against his.

III.

A week later, Buck was rushing back to the school, Alex’s forgotten math worksheet clutched in his hand. He burst into the office, breathless and slightly disheveled, his shirt untucked on one side and his hair sticking up in a way that suggested he’d been running his hands through it all morning.

Tommy was already there, sitting behind the counter with a mug of tea. He looked up, and his smile widened when he saw Buck.

“Mr. Buckley,” Tommy said, his voice tinged with laughter. “In a hurry?”

Buck groaned, straightening his shirt with one hand while clutching the worksheet in the other. Of course it’s you who’ll see me like this, he muttered under his breath, low enough that he thought Tommy wouldn’t hear.

Tommy raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching. “What was that?”

Buck flushed. “Oh, uh, nothing. Just… Alex forgot his homework,” he said, holding up the crumpled paper as evidence. “I had a long shift last night—barely managed to get him to school on time this morning—and I was about to crash when I noticed the homework on the counter and—” He stopped, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “—you don’t want to hear that. Sorry.”

Tommy stood, taking the worksheet from him. “Actually, I don’t mind,” he said, his voice calm and genuine. “It’s not every day I get to hear about someone pulling off the superhero double shift—saving lives and making sure forgotten homework gets to school. Alex has a pretty awesome dad.”

Buck let out a breathless laugh, his face heating up. “I don’t know about awesome… but thanks.”

Tommy smiled, his tone light as he added, “Seriously, you’re doing great. Alex talks about you all the time—it’s obvious how much he looks up to you. I’ll make sure he gets this.”

The compliment caught Buck off guard, and he found himself stumbling over his words. “Oh, I—I just try not to screw up too much.”

“You’re doing fine,” Tommy said, his lips quirking into a small smile. “Though I have to say, Mr. Buckley, you do have a knack for keeping things interesting.”

Buck blinked, momentarily speechless. Then, with a slightly awkward chuckle, he added, “You can just call me Evan, by the way. ‘Mr. Buckley’ makes me feel old.”

Tommy’s eyes twinkled. “Evan it is.”

As Buck left the school, still red-faced and brushing his hand through his hair in an attempt to fix it, he couldn’t help but smile. Despite the chaos of the morning, there was a lingering warmth in his chest—and a growing determination to get to know Tommy better.

IV.

When the school’s fall fair rolled around, Buck found himself roped into volunteering after Alex came home with a flyer and an excited plea. Buck agreed, deciding it wouldn’t hurt to pitch in—and, if he was being honest (which he wasn’t), he was also hoping to see Tommy again.

Buck signed up to contribute to the bake sale, spending the evening before the fair elbow-deep in flour and sugar. By the time the fair kicked off, his table was piled high with cookies, brownies, and pumpkin bread, all neatly arranged and drawing plenty of attention.

Sure enough, Buck spotted Tommy running the face-painting booth. Alex insisted on getting a firefighter painted on his cheek, and Tommy obliged with steady hands and an artistic flair that left Buck impressed.

“You’re pretty good at that,” Buck said as Tommy finished, his gaze lingering on the neat little firetruck.

Tommy glanced up, smiling. “Multitasking is part of the job. Though I’m not sure my painting skills are gallery-worthy.”

“Well, Alex looks thrilled, so I’d say you’re doing great,” Buck replied, watching his son beam at his reflection in the mirror Tommy handed him.

Later in the afternoon, they crossed paths at the bake sale. Tommy stopped by Buck’s table, raising an eyebrow at the neat array of treats. “Wow. Did you make all of this?” he asked, picking up a cookie.

“Guilty,” Buck said with a grin. “I figured I’d try to help out—and Alex swore my cookies would sell out.”

Tommy took a bite, his eyes widening slightly. “Okay, these are really good. You’re full of surprises, Mr. Buckley.”

“Evan,” Buck corrected, his grin widening. “And thanks. Coming from the guy who paints flawless firetrucks, I’ll take it.”

Tommy chuckled, glancing over his shoulder at the growing line of kids waiting at his booth. “Well, my clients are building up. Better get back before they riot.”

“Good luck,” Buck said with a laugh as Tommy waved and headed off.

Some time later, a commotion near the tug-of-war game caught Buck’s attention. Tommy was helping referee, holding the rope as a group of kids giggled and yanked on the other end. It was clear he wasn’t pulling too hard, letting the kids think they had the upper hand.

But then, with an enthusiastic pull, the rope slipped from his grasp, snapping against his hand. Tommy winced, letting out a soft “Ow,” as he instinctively shook his hand.

“Everything okay over there?” Buck asked, already making his way over.

Tommy looked up, his ears pink. “Just a little mishap. I didn’t want to yank too hard and send them flying, but they got a little too into it.”

“Let me see,” Buck said, reaching for Tommy’s hand. When Tommy hesitated, Buck raised an eyebrow. “Come on. Let the firefighter take a look.”

Tommy sighed but extended his hand. “It’s really nothing—just another day surviving the battlefield of a school fair.”

Buck smirked, gently turning Tommy’s hand over. There was a faint red mark on his palm, and Buck’s thumb brushed over it lightly. “You’re gonna live, but I think you’ll survive this with your reputation intact.”

Tommy’s lips quirked into a dry smile. “Good to know, Doctor Buckley. Should I get a lollipop for being brave?”

Buck laughed, releasing Tommy’s hand. “Depends—do you want me to write you a note to get out of face-painting duty too?”

Tommy chuckled, shaking his head. “Tempting, but I think I’ll soldier on.”

Before Buck could reply, a small voice interrupted them. One of the kids from the tug-of-war group had approached, his big eyes teary as he looked up at Tommy. “Mr. Kinard? Are you okay? We’re sorry.”

Tommy’s expression softened immediately. He crouched down, ruffling the boy’s hair. “I’m fine, kiddo. Just be careful, okay? And watch out for your friends, too.”

The boy nodded, sniffling as Tommy smiled warmly. Buck stood back, quietly observing the moment, a small smile tugging at his lips.

As Tommy stood up, brushing his hands off, he gave Buck a look. “I think that officially makes me a tug-of-war casualty. Should I get a medal?”

Buck chuckled. “How about some hot choco instead? Seems like a safer bet.”

By the end of the day, Buck and Alex found themselves at the hot chocolate stand, where Tommy offered them steaming cups. Tommy handed Alex’s cup over first, crouching slightly to meet the boy’s excited grin. “For the hardest-working kid at the fair,” Tommy said with a wink.

“Thanks, Mr. Kinard!” Alex chirped, taking the cup carefully with both hands.

Tommy straightened and handed Buck his cup next. “And for the guy who apparently doubles as my personal first responder,” he added lightly, their fingers brushing briefly as Buck took the cup.

“Thanks,” Buck said, feeling a warmth spread through him—not just from the hot chocolate. For a moment, their eyes met, and Buck thought he saw something unspoken in Tommy’s gaze.

Alex interrupted the moment, taking a careful sip and humming in approval. “This is the best hot chocolate, Dad! Right?”

“It’s pretty great,” Buck agreed, smiling down at Alex before glancing back at Tommy.

As they lingered there for a moment longer, Buck decided the fall fair had been well worth the effort.

V.

A month later, during pick-up, Buck arrived at the school later than usual, his steps hurried as he made his way to the playground. A call at work had held him up unexpectedly, and he hadn’t been able to send anyone else to get Alex. He spotted Alex and Tommy laughing together near the swings, and the tension in his chest eased slightly.

As Buck approached, Alex looked up and ran toward him. “Dad! You’re late!” he said, crossing his arms in exaggerated frustration.

Buck crouched down, ruffling Alex’s hair as he unbuckled his backpack from the fence. “I know, buddy. I’m sorry. I got caught up at work.”

Alex huffed but let himself be buckled into the car seat, his earlier frustration giving way to excitement as he started rambling about his day. Buck sighed, running a hand through his hair as he turned back to Tommy.

“I keep messing things up with him,” Buck said, shaking his head. “Sorry about this.”

Tommy shook his head quickly, his expression soft. “Don’t worry, Evan,” he said, then hesitated, glancing at Alex. “You were working. I got yo—him.” He corrected himself with a small smile, his ears turning slightly pink.

Buck chuckled softly, the apology and correction taking the edge off his guilt. Tommy must have noticed, and he leaned against the side of the fence, trying to lighten the mood.

“Alex was just telling me about your firehouse,” Tommy said, his tone casual. “It sounds like you’ve got some pretty cool stories.”

“Oh, plenty,” Buck said, grinning. “Maybe I’ll share a few someday.”

Tommy tilted his head, his expression playful. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Buck stood there for a moment, shifting on his feet, reluctant to leave. Finally, he mustered the courage to ask, “Hey, would you want to grab coffee sometime? You know, somewhere that doesn’t involve spilling it all over you?”

Tommy’s smile widened. “Only if you promise to stop calling me ‘Mr. Kinard. It’s Tommy—and yeah, I’d like that.”

[clockwayswrites]

Danny In Metropolis, ch3 p1

Masterpost

First draft and not read over. Migraine. Hurty. Currently on phone preying my green light helps. Please no edit or concrit <3

Despite their heart to heart about it, Danny still had to put a token complaint now and then about the lunches. Even with that, he ate every one. He also would also, in an oddly shy way, pass on thanks to Clark when there was something in the lunch that he really liked.

Kon made sure to tell each of those to Clark, in case, maybe, those things might make it more regularly into the rotation. He defended it to himself that it was just logical. If there were more things that Danny liked in the lunch, he was more likely to eat it all. As if Danny hadn’t eaten it all every day.

“So tell me about this Danny?” Lois asked with a smile that Kon didn’t quite trust.

For all that Clark was basically the alien embidiment of a cheerful, friendly golden lab, Lois was like a cliche cat. She was always after the canary too.

(She was also intimidating; she was more eloquent and put together than Kon would ever be, for all he pretended.)

“Um, he just moved here this year with his parents from somewhere in Illonois. Amity Park. He has an older sister, but she’s off at college.”

Lois stole one of the apple slices that Clark was cutting up. “What do his parents do?”

“Inventing of some sort. Danny doesn’t really like to talk about it,” Kon answered.

“A bit odd since he offered to come over and fix anything we needed fixing in return for the lunches,” Clark said. His back was to Kon, but he sounded like he was smiling.

The way Lois smiled when she glanced at Clark pretty much confirmed that. “Anything?”

“From dishwashers to computers to centrifuges,” Clark answered.

“Huh, well if our centrifuge ever breaks,” Lois drawled.

“I think that’s why he doesn’t like to talk about it. Like, I think that his parents used to have a lab at home or maybe more it felt more like they lived at the lab. They’re not supposed to do that anymore but,” Kon shrugged, “I guess habits die hard or something.”

“Hence the lunches,” Clark said. “Apparently food at home wasn’t always free of contamination, or at least percieve contamination.”

“Damn, poor kid,” Lois said, theiving another apple slice. “I guess you’ll just have to bring him home.”

Kon blinked and hoped to whoever that he wasn’t blushing. “Um, what?”

“For dinner,” Lois clarified with that dangerous little smile of hers. “Just to make sure he gets some good food then. I even promise to stay far away from the kitchen that night.”

“Oh, um, yeah, maybe?”

“You boys could work on that project after too,” Clark suggested, “pick Lois’ brain about poetry.”

“Oh god, poetry. I think I’m having flashbacks to Professor Eden’s class.”

“Bad class?”

“Amazing, but very, very weird. When God made that man, he broken the mold. I doubt there has ever been anyone else like him and the world is both better and worse for it. I may not be a poet, but he changed the way I looked at words.”

“Huh,” Kon said. “I guess… I can at least ask if he wants to come over.”

“For Friday. He can even spend the night if he wants,” Clark suggested. He turned around, handed Kon two lunch boxes, and just smiled back at whatever incredulous look Kon guessed he had on his face. “You’ve never had a sleepover, it might be fun.”

Kon felt confussed. “Um, like, every night at Titan’s Tower?”

“That’s more dorms than sleepover,” Lois said. “But just stick to dinner if that makes you uncomfortable, sweetie.”

“…right. Um, thanks, I’ll ask I guess,” Kon conceeded as he stuffed the lunch boxes in his backpack. “I better go before I’m late.”

“Have a good day at class,” Clark called after him.

“Dismantle the hetronormative patriarchy!” Lois added with a laugh at whatever look Clark sent her for that.

As if he could talk, he ran around in spandex with his underwear on the outside.

[angstandhappiness]

Interesting

Hell's royalty has a culture that enables Stella's abusive behavior.

Point 1: Keeping up appearances is valued above all else. And I specifically mean the appearance of things being the way they're supposed to be. Conformity basically.

Conformity in this culture seems to include a kind of stoic dignity ("you know excitement is unbecoming of a goetia"), an air of superiority ("don't bow to that one- he bows to us!"), and, of course, some good old fashioned toxic masculinity ("cease this bitch crying").

Individuals at the very top are not immune. Even though he gets past it, Asmodeus seems to spend a lot of time and effort on keeping his relationship with Fizz quiet in order to keep up the appearance of fulfilling his "lust" role.

Point 2: The members of the aristocracy who don't conform are seen as the problem, not the members who are being cruel.

Speaking of Ozzie, there's a chance he'll face real consequences for getting out of line . . . Mammon seems pretty confident about getting revenge. Also, if Ozzie had decided that his reputation was important enough to avoid stepping in to help his partner, well . . . I'm just saying. Cultures of conformity create bystanders who stand by and let abuse happen. So it's good that this guy has the courage (and a good heap of privilege and power) to enable him to step out. Yes, I realize that the crowd at Mammon's celebrated Ozzie and Fizz, but the crowd was distinctly NOT aristocratic.

Now look at Stella's party- this woman is not subtle about being cruel to her husband.

She calls the party a "Not Divorced" party. She openly talks negatively about Stolas in a blatant attempt to humiliate him. She's not trying to hide that she hates the man.

Because he's . . . an oddball. Gentle, not as polished as others in his social sphere, awkward and mostly friendless, probably autistic. And importantly, I think, not traditionally masculine.

So Stella has no need to hide that she treats him poorly. She's proud of it. And her social circle seems to support her in it, or at least, they don't push back. Because based on the aristocracy's unspoken (or if we look at Paimon, very much spoken) value system, Stolas's failure to fulfill all of his expected roles gracefully is worse than Stella's cruelty.

Point 3: Stolas's parenting, while much better than his own father's, still reflects this value system in some ways, and that's . . . complicated.

In some ways, Octavia is doing great. She has her own interests (music! gothy fashion!) that don't seem to be based on any role prescribed to her by others. She has a genuine bond with her dad that's based on care and not on molding her into some ideal princess.

But Stolas still puts on an facade in front of Via. We know that he pretended things were fine when they distinctly weren't for most of her childhood. We could argue endlessly about whether Stolas was right (as Georgia Dow explained in her video) or wrong to stop himself from explaining the situation with Stella to Via in Loo Loo Land, but honestly, the man could let his nearly grown up daughter know that abuse was happening without all out trauma dumping. It would enable her to make more informed decisions, and I think she would want to be able to do that.

Instead, Stolas keeps it to himself. Because he feels like Via SHOULD have this picture perfect childhood. Look at the pictures that are up in his palace. Look at his attempt to gloss over the fighting in the household by taking Via to an idealized childhood destination.

A part of him still thinks that good parenting is keeping up appearances, and that the ugly things are best kept hidden. Look at how hard he still tries to avoid crying in front of people. The values he was taught as a child are part of him.

And while it's not his fault (it's Stella's fault, obviously- these are HER actions), his inability to be open allows Stella and Andrealphus to scheme and (we'll see . . .) probably manipulate Via because of her lack of knowledge.

We're meant to see the moments where Stolas breaks expectations and behaves raw and even a little unhinged as triumphant. Sleeping with Blitz. That is the sound of a fucking divorce. Actually going through with the fucking divorce. Insisting on it. Appearances be damned.

And yeah, more of that please. Because if the people around Stella stop caring about aristocratic social trappings, all she'll have going for her is her shitty personality.

Thanks @akirathedramaqueen for inspiring this post with a conversation.

[echo-riot]

✞⛧ A Slip of the Tongue (Sevika x Reader) ✞⛧

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, Brief mentions of intoxication and embarrassment, Slightly suggestive dialogue, Fluff with a hint of teasing…mommy kink-

You’re slumped at the corner of the bar in the Leaky Drop, nursing a drink that tastes far too bitter and burns far too much, but you’re already too deep into the bottle to care. Ricky, the guy you vaguely know from around, sits next to you, rambling about how life’s unfair and women are complicated. His words blur together in your head because the only thing you can focus on is the sheer mortification washing over you in waves.

You had called Sevika earlier. Big mistake. Huge.

You’d just wanted to check in—or maybe hear her voice—because drowning your feelings in alcohol wasn’t working. But in your drunken haze, the words that slipped from your lips were, “Miss you, mommy,” before you had the good sense to realize what you’d just said.

The line went silent.

You panicked and hung up, heart pounding, cheeks on fire, fully aware that you have never called her that before. Not even as a joke.

Now you’re spiraling, avoiding looking at your phone while Ricky drones on, and the alcohol starts dragging you under. You’re about to crash out right here at the bar because there’s no way in hell you can go home and face the consequences.

You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting there, slouched in the corner of the Leaky Drop like a statue of poor decisions. Ricky’s still talking—something about his ex and how she ran off with his neighbor—but you’re too far gone to care. Your focus flickers between the chipped edge of your glass and the phone sitting face down on the bar like it’s about to bite you.

You haven’t touched it since the call. Since you said that and hung up before Sevika could react.

A low groan escapes your lips as you drop your head onto your crossed arms. Why the hell did you think drinking would help? Better yet, why did you think calling her would help? She’s probably sitting in her apartment right now, replaying your drunken slip-up and wondering what the hell is wrong with you.

Or worse, she’s pissed.

The thought of Sevika being mad makes your stomach churn harder than the booze already has. You want to crawl into a hole and stay there until the memory evaporates—or until you die, whichever comes first.

Ricky nudges your shoulder. “You good? You look like someone just killed your dog.”

“Feel like someone did,” you mutter, voice muffled against your arms.

“Want me to call someone for you?”

You sit up abruptly, the movement making the room tilt. “Nope. Bad idea. No calls.”

Ricky shrugs and goes back to nursing his drink, leaving you alone with your spiraling thoughts. Just as you’re about to sink back into your personal hell, the sound of heavy boots hitting the wooden floor drags your attention toward the entrance.

Your heart stops.

It’s Sevika.

She looks as intimidating as ever, her trench coat swaying slightly as she strides toward the bar with purpose. Her sharp eyes lock onto yours instantly, and you know—you know—she’s here because of you.

Ricky whistles low. “Damn, she’s scary. You know her?”

“Unfortunately,” you mumble, sinking deeper into your seat.

She stops a few feet away, towering over you with an unreadable expression. Her eyes flick to the nearly empty bottle beside you, then to Ricky, who wisely decides it’s time to find another place to sit.

“Out,” she says, jerking her head toward the door.

You blink. “What?”

“Out. Now.” Her tone leaves no room for argument.

Your legs feel like jelly as you slide off the stool, trying not to trip over your own feet as you follow her out into the cold Zaun air. The door shuts behind you with a sharp thud, and the silence is deafening.

For a moment, neither of you says anything. You’re too busy bracing yourself for the scolding of a lifetime, staring down at the cracked pavement. But then Sevika steps closer, tilting her head slightly as if trying to get a better look at your face.

“You drunk?” she asks, her voice softer than you expected.

“Maybe,” you admit, rubbing the back of your neck. “I wasn’t—uh—I didn’t mean to call you. I mean, I did, but not like that. And the ‘mommy’ thing? Total accident. Just…slipped out.”

She doesn’t respond immediately, and when you finally gather the courage to look at her, you’re met with an amused smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

“‘Mommy,’ huh?”

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “Don’t. Please don’t.”

She chuckles—chuckles—and the sound sends a confusing mix of relief and embarrassment through you.

“Relax,” she says, stepping closer until she’s right in front of you. “It was…unexpected. But cute.”

Your hands drop, and you gape at her. “Cute?”

She shrugs, her smirk widening. “Yeah. Not something I thought I’d ever hear you say, but… I could get used to it.”

Your brain short-circuits. “Wait. Are you—are you serious right now?”

Her hand reaches out, tilting your chin up so you’re forced to meet her gaze. Her expression softens, the playful edge giving way to something more genuine.

“You’re drunk, and you’ve had a rough night,” she says. “But if you wanna call me ‘mommy’ again when you’re sober…” She leans in, her voice dropping to a low murmur. “I wouldn’t mind.”

Your breath catches, and all you can do is nod, your cheeks burning hotter than ever.

“Good.” She steps back, her usual confidence sliding back into place. “Now, let’s get you home before you pass out on the street.”

You follow her silently, your mind reeling as you replay her words over and over again. Maybe this night wasn’t a total disaster after all.

[limarkova]

Yandere Batfam x Neglected Reader x Yandere Al Ghuls

Pt 8

Prev

Author's note: Sorry it took so long. I rewrote this whole chapter because I was just not happy with it. Though I am glad I took the time because this chapter feels more critical than what I would have released. Plus college and work have been a hot mess, so updates might be slower but they should be same quality.

You sat at the breakfast table by yourself. Last night you could barely sleep after burning the blood cover clothes. In the end you had maybe one or two hours of sleep. Giving up at 6:30am you went down early for breakfast.

There was a yawn from the hallway shortly before Barbara rolled into the dining room. She stopped at the entrance to the room, blinking at you. "Oh morning. You're up early."

"So are you. Or do you count this as late?" You leaned back in your chair. One of the books you had gotten with Duke in your hands. There was a decent calm but you still didn't like the quiet.

Barbara rolled closer to you. She stopped when she was sitting next you. Placing her hands on the table, she took a deep breath. You paused your reading to look her. She had a look on her face that told you she was about to ask questions. You shifted yourself away from her slightly, "Don’t. Please just don't."

"I'm trying to find who hurt you (Name). I just... I need a little more information to work with." Barbara leaned forward bracing her arms on the table. "I know you got upset with Dick for asking..."

You scoffed closing your book, "Babs. Please just drop it. I guarantee you that you're not going to like or find anything I tell you useful."

"I want to help you get the justice you deserve." Barbara reached a hand out to you. An olive branch. You almost reached back, almost told her everything but stopped yourself.

The devastation you felt at learning everything was a lie. That the person you trusted not only failed you but almost certainly betrayed you. It was destroying some integral in you. Could you do that to someone? Sure you had committed murder but Davis had deserved for taking part in your suffering. Plus you let him die with his world view intact. But Barbara?

"Would still wish to get me justice if you learn that someone important was involved?" This was your test for her. If she didn't hesitate or ask questions, than you'd tell her. If she showed you she was sure she wanted to go down that road than you'd tell her.

Barbara blinked at question. Eyebrows throughing, she opened her mouth than closed it. You deflated when she asked the last thing you wanted to hear, "What do you mean?"

"Nevermind..." You grabbed your book. It was funny to you in a way that the book you were reading was about a girl discovering her world was lie while you lived through it.

Barbara grabbed your hand. There was desperation in her tone, "(Name), please tell me. I want to help you in anyway I can."

"I don't know their names, just faces." You pulled your hand from hers. This was not going to end well. It was only necessary to punish the guilty, not the innocent. Not Barbara, especially if she was telling the truth.

But what if this was a lie? Your chest tied itself up into knots. Was this another misstep that would tip Bruce off to you knowing he was involved. If Barbara told him, or worse was involved in what happened. Shit, what were you going to do?

She grabbed your hand again refusing to let go, "I don't believe you. (Name) we're here for you, I know we let you down in the past but are we here and trying to do better. Please let us in, tell us what happened. Tell me who hurt you."

A tear slid down your face. Pure fear gripped your chest. This was a test not for her but for you. Did he know about Davis? Had killing the accountant been a mistake? You took a few deep breaths, "Barbara, please just let it go. It's not worth investigating."

"It is. You're worth investigating for."

"No, I'm not." You pulled your wrist from hers. The hollow feeling in your chest was coming back. You needed to get out of the manor, at least for a little bit. It wasn’t safe here. Turning you ran from the room.

You weren't a 100% sure where you go so long as it wasn’t there.

Tim stared at the tablet in his hands, still attempting to process the information from the Davis scene. It was a messy scene. The killer had seemingly playing the blood yet had left no finger print. Even the message on the wall didn't help identify the killer, they had it written with Davis's severed thumb. A truly demented move or a forensic counter measure. Sighing he lowered the tablet back down onto his dresser.

After adjusting his tie, Tim exited his room. Walking towards the dining room he was prepared for another sit down with (Name). What he wasn't prepared for was said girl running into him at full speed. Her hands were pressing into her chest and her breathing was frantic. Tim reached out grabbing her to keep her from tumbling to the floor.

She started to kick and claw at him. Tim held her at arm's length before pulling her in as close as he could. She was clearly have a panic attack of some kind. He focused most of the pressure of the hug on her upper chest where her hands had been digging into. She thrashed around for a bit before going limp in his arms. Tim looked at her, really looked at her for the first time in years.

She was slightly shorter than Damian. Yet she seem so much older than she was. No longer was the three year old girl that had stolen his mask. The confused and upset little girl was gone replaced with a haunted ten year old. Tim picked her up.

She was still limp and nonresponsive when Tim brought her to the living room. Setting her on the couch, he grabbed a weight blanket they had for Jason. Tim had always found her the hardest to communicate with. Out of all his siblings she was the one he knew the least about. Attempting to help her now just made that clear. It was concerning.

He was supposed to know almost everything about everyone. The genius prodigy who could tell you anything. Expect for where (Name) was concerned apparently. She really was one mystery after another. But Tim was good at solving mysteries.

"Hey, focus on my voice okay." He got her to look at him. Her stare was vacant and floated everywhere but his face. "Can you tell me five things you see around you?"

"There's..." She blinked, eyes searching the room. "Two cameras in this room, the model suggest that they have audio."

Tim blinked. She was right but those cameras were hidden. One in the bookcase by the TV and the other in the camera rod pointing towards the hallway. Her shaking didn't stop as hers eye moved between the cameras and door. "No hiding spots."

Tim stood up. First he moved the book camera so it was facing the opposite direction. She blinked mildly confused, Tim took that as a good sign. Than he turned the curtain rod so the camera was pointed to the ceiling. (Name) tilted her head to the side. Tim walk back to crouch infront her, "What are five things you can see?"

They ran through the grounding technique. At the end Tim had chosen to sit next to her. It was peacefully quiet say for the occasionally buzz of Tim's phone. He checked it to see some text messages from Barbara, Bruce, and Damian. Tim shook his head turning his buzzer off. (Name) was still shaking. Tim bit his lip, while watching, "Do you want talk about it?"

"No." She shrugged the weighted blanket off her body.

Tim nodded, "Okay. Bruce wants us to come to breakfast."

"Bruce is on business trip until Tuesday." She gave him a weird look.

Tim shook his head, "He came back early after Alfred called about you arriving suddenly. He wants to check that you're okay."

"I don't want to see him." (Name) turned away from him.

Tim blinked slowly. He remembered from before she disappeared that she had always want to see Bruce. On more occasions than he could count she had asked him give the man invites to open houses, art displays, science fairs, and school plays. She had always wanted her dad to be there. For that to have changed, something truly bad must of happened.

Maybe she didn't feel like she deserved to be near Bruce. Tim knew he struggled with that after Junior. It took time to mend his relationship with Bruce. Maybe that's what she needed, time. Tim could give her some time, "That’s okay, but we probably should still get something to eat."

"Right." She nodded at Tim hollowly. She bit her lip slightly, "did Jason come back to the manor last night?"

"No, not yet but I can message him and tell him you're asking about him." Tim pulled his phone out, ready to send the message.

"No, it's fine...I have to go the library today." She started to mess with her fingers looking towards the window. Tim patted her on the shoulder.

"I'll grab something from the kitchen and give you a ride to the library. Any requests?"

"Do we still have GoGurt?"

Jason shoved another piece of burned debris out of his way. Just as suspected the address the guards had given them was also torched. There were signs that the people involved had taken the lighter equipment. Sparking cords hung from the ceiling with old broken cameras. A few still had scalpels sticking out of them.

"Dude what are we doing here?" Roy Harper asked from behind Jason. After storming out of the manor, Jason made a few calls. The Outlaws now walked behind him in the destroyed building. Bizarro, Artemis, Kori, and Roy had all answered his call to track some people down for 'personal reasons'.

"Remember when I told I have a little sister." Jason said while kicking open a door. It opened to what the sources had called the Main Hall. There was rubble blocking the path to the rooms in the hallway. Evidence pointed towards them detonating a small bomb in the hall way. Her cell was located on the left hand side, the door hanging open. There were four other doors down the hallway. Jason only knew what one of them was, which was a locker room across from her cell.

"Me no remember" Bizarro called from behind him. There were sounds of confirmation from the others. It might have been words, Jason honestly didn't care.

"Turns out she wasn't at that boarding school in Shanghai like I had thought she was." He hated having to admit that but these guys would get it. He hoped. They knew how he almost visited her everytime they were China. Now he wished he hadn't stopped himself, hadn't let her go.

"Wait, wha... Oh shit.", Roy put the pieces together quickly. He began to look around the charred remains of the facility with horror. Out of all his friends, Jason figure would understand the most. "She was here wasn't she and not for good reasons."

Jason nodded to Roy assessment, "We think they were preforming experiments to try and create Meta Humans."

"Oh, The poor thing. What do you need us to do?" Kori started to move debris out of the way. Artemis began helping in moving rubble. They made a clearing to the rest of the doors.

Jason sighed shoving open the door to the locker room. All of the lockers were tumbled over. Most of them looked empty but Jason still pointed towards the room, "We're looking for anything that could be a clue as to who these bastards are."

"Misunderstood." Bizarro said with a nod. With that he headed into the locker room. Set the lockers upright, he checked inside for anything useful. Jason pointedly ignore the room Kori entered. He didn't want to see where they kept her.

"Hold up, I need a little more information than that Jace." Artemis grabbed Jason's arm. He grunted gesturing for Artemis to continue, "Were they successful in making a meta human?"

"Yes, she developed a regeneration ability." Jason started towards another room in the hallway. The layout matched what the two guards had told them. Even if the two didn't know what happened in the last three rooms they knew something important in happened in them. They had taken Jason's sister into two of them. The first door not far from her cell and the last door at the end of the hall. The other door next to locker room only the scientists had entered.

"How did she get out of here?" Roy followed close behind. It was a valid question to ask given the security this place had. Jason had counted 25 cameras and they had to get through three security doors to get here.

Jason shook his head, "She stole a bunch of scalpels, gouged a guy's eye out and stole his keys. Right before she killed a completely different guy while running like hell."

"Fuck, she is your sister." Roy breathed. Jason reached over and smacked him across the back of the head. Roy grabbed where he was hit, "Oww dude. What the fuck that was a compliment. You got a badass sis."

"She's the innocent one in this family." Jason sighed as he opened the door to the room they most often brought her to. It looked like a sterile operation room with a water pool in the left corner. There was a musty scent in the room from the still water. Various tools were throw about from knives, to whips, to guns. "She's not supposed to be fighting or going through stuff like this."

"Have there been anytime attempts to recapture her? Traffickers hardly like to let their 'product' go." Artemis words were phrased carefully. Jason blinked before moving towards the next room urgently.

Green was blurring his vision again. This wasn't good, "No. And it's been six days since she escaped."

"They don't wait that long, even for the 'problematic' ones. Something ain't adding up here." Roy joined Jason in the next room.

The room next to the locker room was the most torched. Scorched remains of papers covered the floor with a flipped over filing cabinet. There was also some sparking medical equipment and a computer. The two walked further in. Roy picked up a piece of half burned papers. He blinked as he read it before reading it again out loud, "Subject Origin's recovery rate appears to be two hours for a bullet chest wound after the removal of all shrapnel. All vital organs show signs of being fully healed and operational. Despite lossing brain activity for an hour and fourty five minutes, Subject Origin shows no signs of inversible damage. This is a good sign for Project Raphael. What is Project Raphael?"

"I don't know." Jason picked up another piece of charged paper. Roy moved closer to see the paper. "The operational for Project Raphael was a success, despite Doctor H and Doctor Q's walking out. Subject Origin is showing signs of recovery. New Subjects Alpha through Hotel are being prepared for transplant. Monitoring period of six months set to begin in secondary locations."

"That might explain why they haven't come for her." Roy pulled back rubbing the back of his neck.

Jason gave him a look, "Huh?"

"Yeah, thinking about like these guys. If whatever they're doing has already moved on to different subjects than having the Origin isn't necessary until you need more subjects. So why not just let her go until they know whether the first 'batch' is successful?" Roy shrugged hapzardly.

"Cause that would a massive security threat." Jason gestured to them simply being in the room. "She's already tipped off every vigilante in the area."

"That’s probably why they trashed the place." Roy kicked some of the paper causing it fly up. "There's probably not much to find here."

Jason growled. Roy had a point, they could nothing if they didn't know what they were even looking for. He pulled out his phone and took a picture of the paper. "Just grab what you can. We might be able to find something important."

Roy sighed but began to pick up other pieces of paper that seem legible. Jason quickly sent the picture to Tim with a brief note to be ready. Roy held up a paper with only Subject Origin written on it, "Hey all of these refer to them doing some fuck up shit to Subject Origin."

"Just focus on grabbing the things, we'll worry about what they say later. I'll focus on recovering the computers hard drive." Jason was focused on taking deep breaths. If those paper were truly talking about (Name) that meant she had endured worst things than they were originally think. Barely injured his ass, they were shooting her just see how she would recover. Lossing brain activity meant she was medically dead for a whole hour. Green was starting to over take his vision. Doctors H and Q had some explaining to do when he found them.

The computer wouldn't turn on. Jason decided to just take the hard drive. It would be easier to recover information at the batcave anyways. Even if that meant go back to the manor. All he needed was a name or a picture. Something to point him in the right direction.

"Hey Jace, I think we got something." Artemis was calling from the hallway. He grabbed the hard drive before going to check out what they were talking about. Artemis held up a burned student ID for Gotham U's Medical school. "Bizarro found this in a locker. Can't read the Name or see the picture but we got the last 3 digits of a student number."

"Good, it will help us narrow the list down." Jason nodded looking around the place. Roy had been right. There really wasn't much to see that wasn't destroyed. Jason was willing to bet they wouldn't find any real names on the computers hard drive. That was assuming it wasn't wipe.

"I have found this in the sleeping quarters." Kori came out of the room holding a scalpel with dried blood and some decaying matter. Jason half laughed, she actually did gouge out a man's eye to escape. He wasn't sure if he was impressed or horrified. On one hand his sister could defend herself. On the other hand she should never had to do that in first place. Whatever Project Raphael was it had pushed her to a limit Jason never wanted her near again.

Jason got yanked out of his thoughts by his phone buzzing. Unlocking it he saw a text from Tim. "Drop off everything you got from that place at the Batcave. Also be at the library at 2pm, (Name) will be wrapping up there at that time. Pick her up."

Jason looked at the time 11am, they had three hours. "Let’s move."

Prev

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[siri-ike]

"Nightwing, report."

"He woke up again. He was much better physically, but he still didn't recognize anyone." Dick rattled off roboticly. "He tried to jump out the window, so I sedated him. Temperature's come down, and he hasn't thrown up or seized in 3 days. But-" He hesitated for a moment.

"But?"

"It's, ah, it seems that, he. Well, he -looks-, a, a bit, uhm, shorter. Than he was." Nightwing forced out. "I could just be mistaking. But, the first time I cleaned him, he had a few baby chest hairs, and now he's soft as a newborn. His cheeks also look a little bit fuller."

"..."

Bruce was right: Dick hadn't been sleeping, and it showed. He must just be seeing things. "How are things on your side?"

"The Fentons have been arrested, we found their other clones, they were, unviable." B's voice faltered, Dick guessed he had had to speed up their decomposition rather than let them die slowly. "We found their daughter, too. She's agreed to come back with us." At least there's some good news. "Still no lead on who the other cloning expert was. We're looking into all the Fentons' current and former friends with a science background." Batman sounded tired, too. They were supposed to have a hotel room, but Alfred wasn't there to force them to sleep. Not that Nightwing had any room to judge.

"Are there any Vlads on that list?"

"Yes, three." B responded.

"Danny keeps thinking someone named Vlad is taking care of him or holding him hostage or something. Start with those. And you better not be making Dami stay awake as long as you are."

"Copy." Click. Avoiding, out of all his brothers, Damian is surprisingly the best at keeping a healthy routine. But that all goes out the window whenever he falls for one of B's obsessions. Dick's been there, remembers what it's like.

"You ought to take your own advice."

Dick spun around from the batcomputer. "Alfred." He delighted. "You're back."

"Am I?" He sassed. "What a perfect excuse for you to take a break." He stepped closer. "Take a shower, I'll prepare some "fast food"." He joked. Alfred's version of "fast food" was food they could eat quickly and with little mess. Things like crustless sandwiches and baked buns.

Dick glanced back at the computer. He should stop. He knows he should stop. Just stop. But it felt like he was velcroed to the screen. He tore himself away and went with Alfred. It's this exact kind of work ethic he doesn't want for his brothers. It's too late for him, and it's definitely too late for Tim. Jason and Cass have separate problems. Steph seems to be 50/50. But he had such high hopes for Damian. And now there's Danny, who, from what he could tell, was already prone to overworking himself. "When he gets better, do you think he'll stay?" Groggily, Dick dared to ask. Alfred will be understanding. He always is. It was something Dick had tried most of his life to emulate.

"Ready to be a big brother again, master Dick?" He smiled proudly, yet teasingly.

"No."

Silence.

"If he had nowhere else to go, then ofcorse he can stay, but, every time he wakes up, he, sounds relieved. And he's always convinced he's with Vlad. Maybe Vlad is a comforting figure to him. Maybe he does have somewhere to go." He paused. "No one should live like us."

The air was heavy. Mostly with guilt.

"If the boy wants to go back, I'm certain he will do so. Whether or not we want him to. And I know you know that too. So what is this really about?" Hard to fool the original.

Dick's face went through seemingly every emotion before he spoke. "It hurts... I rub his back when he throws up, I change his sheets when he sweats through them, I make sure he gets all the nutrients he needs, but every time he sees me, he just gets scared. I'm worse than a stranger to him, I'm an intruder, sometimes a kidnapper. One time, he woke up, and he was so sure that I was keeping him there as a backup body. And, and every time I hear the monitor-. I dread going up there... I shouldn't think these things. He's sick. He needs help. It's not his fault. he's-"

"That doesn't mean you can't be frustrated." Alfred cut him off. "Emotions aren't right or wrong. They just are." He stopped infront of Dicks bedroom, and handed him a food bar. "Shower, sleep, in two hours, I will retrieve you for dinner."

Dick considered the door for a moment. "Could you check on Danny for me? He usually wakes up at 4:43 in the afternoon. He tends to have a better reaction if he's left alone for a while first."

"Duly noted."

Dick didn't bother showering. He went straight for his bed. Didn't even finish his food bar.

Alfred checked his pocket watch. 5pm on the dot. Well, he was already in the family wing. He made sure not to step in the ecto juice spot that keeps popping up where the opposite Danny keeps dying.

There was a list of possibilities Alfred expected to see upon entering Danny's room. At first, he thought he might have hidden, but the trail of wet footprints from the bathroom told him otherwise.

Gut Feeling

DPXDC

Commissioner Jim Gordon meets an odd kid in the precinct.

--

“Come on, you really don’t have a way to directly contact Batman?”

Jim smiled. Kids came to the station and asked that all the time. Usually, it was just curiosity and showing them the signal was enough to get them to sign up for the Junior Police program. This one looked a little older than most, teenagers were often “too old” to believe in Batman, but again, give them a little faith now and they’ll never loose it.

“Lookin’ for the Bat, kid?” Jim asked, knowing he was about to make this kid’s –

Jim froze. The kid turned to face him and it was Bruce Wayne. Not playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne, but freshly a teenager Bruce Wayne. The Bruce Wayne who Jim had checked in on time and again from age eight until he ran off on a globetrotting trip to find himself. The little Bruce Wayne with too pale skin and dark bags under his eyes, and not enough love to make up for all the grief weighing him down. And he didn’t look like Damian either, where Bruce was obviously his father but there were distinct traits from his mother. This was a carbon copy of a boy Jim remembered vividly.

“I am.” He even sounded like teenage Bruce. All business, like he was on a mission.

“I might be able to help you, but it’ll take a while.” Jim said and the officer the kid had been talking too gave him an odd look. He waved her off and told the kid to follow him to the commissioner’s office. Normally, he’d be more dramatic, put on more of a show for the kid, but his gut told him this was different, this was important. He offered the kid a styrofoam cup of water then closed the door behind him. “So, what do you need to talk to Batman for?”

“It’s personal. I need to talk to him in person.”

Jim took a sip of coffee from his cup. “He doesn’t appreciate me calling for no reason in the middle of the day.”

“So you do have a direct line?” The kid nearly jumped out of his seat. “If he’s upset, it’ll be my fault, just call him, please.”

“Who should I say wants to talk to him?”

The kid hesitated. “He doesn’t know me, but I have to talk to him.”

Jim frowned. “What’s your name, kid?”

He swallowed and looked like he wasn’t going to answer for a moment. “Danny.”

“Danny…?” Jim wanted a last name but Danny kept quiet. Jim sighed, “He’s likely not going to show up until sundown.”

“I can wait, as long as you guarantee he’ll show.”

“And you’re not going to tell me why you need Batman?” Jim just got a glare in response. “What about one of the other heroes?”

“Only Batman, no one else can help.”

“You sure about that? Not even Superman?”

“Not unless Superman can get me in the same room as Batman.”

“Why’s it so important that you meet him in person?”

“It’s personal.”

Jim liked this less and less by the minute. “Do your parents know you’re here?”

Danny looked away but right when it looked like he wouldn’t say anything he mumbled. “They wouldn’t care anyway.”

After another moment to give the kid time to reconsider, Jim pulled out the Bat-phone. It was a normal Wayne-Tech cell phone, but Jim had been given very specific instructions on how and when to use it. The phone listed all the Gotham Vigilantes without visible numbers so they couldn’t be copied and handed out. He pressed the one for Batman.

“Stand outside, would you?” The kid gave him a look, but followed the request. Jim could see his shadow in the door’s window, not so subtle eavesdropping.

It rang a few times, and Jim sat there awkwardly with a teenager listening to his every move. Finally, a familiar voice picked up the other end of the line. “Commissioner Gordon.”

“Sorry to call you out of the blue Batman, but I’ve got a kid here who needs your help.”

“Who?”

“Says his name is Danny, that you’ve never met him but you’re the only one who can help him.”

“Why?”

“Refuses to tell me.”

“What’s your best guess, Commissioner?”

Jim looked at Danny’s shadow, it looked like he was straining his ears to try and hear what he was saying. Danny had given him almost nothing to work with. Just his name, that he’s never met Batman but needs to talk with him in person. But Jim was here because he listened to his gut. A feeling like when you see a random rock on your neighbor’s doorstep but you’d never go in without an invitation. A feeling like you know what’s in the present and are preparing your surprised face. A feeling like when you cheated on your wife and you know she knows.

“He looks like Bruce Wayne.”

A beat of silence. “What?”

“Danny looks exactly like Bruce when he was a teenager. Exactly the same.” Jim hoped Batman would get it, feel in his gut what Jim felt.

“And he wont say why he’s there?”

“No, and he demands to see you in person.”

“I’ll be there in an hour.”

“10-4.” The line cut off before Jim had finished saying it. He called Danny in again. “He’s on his way.”

Danny glared at him. “If he’s not, if you called some social worker or something, you’ll regret it.”

“I’m sure.” Jim sighed and downed the rest of his now cold coffee.

The sun hadn’t set, but only just barely. Jim ended up taking Danny up to the roof in the end after all, if only to save his window from being broken into. The kid had a red hoodie on, but he was still shivering in the autumn chill and it was just going to get colder by the minute as the sun made its way behind the horizon.

Jim checked his watch and, at exactly an hour from when he called, he acted surprised when Batman and Robin appeared out of nowhere. “Bats.”

“Commissioner.” Batman greeted but his eyes went straight for Danny. “Danny, I assume.”

“Yeah, I…” Danny hesitated, looking at Jim and Robin.

All it took was four words from Batman. “What do you need?”

The kid held out his hand with a flash drive in it. “I’m your clone. My par- The people who made me wanted to make a stronger version of you, but they got ahead of themselves. My DNA is degrading and I’ll die if I don’t get your DNA to stabilize me.”

Holy cow.

“You don’t expect us to believe that, do you?” Robin sneered at him.

“The flash drive has all the info on it. All the data about the cloning process and the, uh, relevant experiments after that.” Batman gave the kid a look. “I didn’t want to waste time on unnecessary data.”

“If what you’re saying is true, why are you here, alone? Are they working on a different solution?”

Danny’s shoulders hiked up. “I’ve been a failure for a while now, I’m not worth the resources and they’d learn more from an autopsy.”

Oof, kid. Jim looked at Batman who seemed to feel the same… if Jim was reading him right.

“So, you wont object to a DNA test?” Robin asked with a cocky head tilt, at least he was relatively easy to read.

“You can try.” Danny said, and then realized what that sounded like. “I mean I wont stop you, but my DNA degrades faster outside my body. You’ll have to take me to whatever lab you plan on using.”

“Then we will.” Batman said and jerked his head towards where they’d probably parked that ridiculous car of his. But then he looked at Jim with a nod. “Commissioner.”

“Batman.” Jim returned the nod. “You’ll tell me how things turn out, yeah?”

“I’ll give you a report.” Batman joked – Jim could tell, it was gut feeling.

[pricegouge]

Gougie, I saw your little post about fairy!reader caught in a spiderweb and being found by Soap - and I didn't think I was in to microphilia but holy shit that one post sent me down a rabbit hole. Hot damn. Like.

I just wanna be a lil fairy, small enough for the boys to carry me around in their pockets when I'm sleepy.

Soap pries this cute lil fairy from the spiderweb but ooohh no it looks like a wing was broken in your struggle - those things are so delicate what a shame. And you look up at Soap all wide eyed, maybe a little teary bc ouchies, and he's like well he can just leave you there, flightless and injured.

Maybe there's a language barrier, so you don't really know exactly whats going on, BUT WHO CARES, this handsome human just saved you from a far worse fate than just a broken little wing. Freak matches freak, Soap wants to keep you bc your so small and sooooo cute sitting in the palm of his hand like that - and you don't want to leave! Not when this human is giving you all the attention in the world!

Basically never leave his side when he's not on a mission. If he is gone on a mission he leaves you with Kate to look after you and you are INCONSOLABLE. WHERE DID YOUR HUMAN GO?? BRING HIM BACK!!! THAT'S MY HUMAN!!!

When he comes home in one piece you get to pepper his face with tiny, sweet kisses. He can't help but laugh a little, its rather ticklish to have your little lips on his cheek. He makes sure to return the affection tho, picking you off his shoulder and cupping you gently in his palms, and then kissing you up and down. His kisses are downright smothering, but they still leave you giggling and flushed, hair a little disheveled, breathless and aching for more.

And then riding around on his shoulder while he's home from being deployed, watching every little thing he does, content to lean against his neck bc he's so warm and always conscious of you.

When he's doing paperwork you're basically a little fidget toy for him, which you are more than pleased with. He keeps you laying on your belly in his free hand, idly running his thumb up and down your back - free massage! And you just fall asleep all warm and soft until he's done. Sometimes he puts his thumb on your cute little ass and wiggles you around just for fun. Maybe if you've been well behaved and not a mischevious little shit, he'll let you grind on his finger until you're satisfied. Mumbling praise and sweet nothin's at you - you don't fully understand what he's saying, but you don't care, you love the sound of his voice and you know he's being sweet on you, and that's all you need to finish.

Ofc whatever mess you made, he can just lick clean, he has no objections there.

When he's relaxing on the couch, watching TV, you can just curl up on his chest - maybe he buttons down his shirt just enough so you can lay on his hairy chest, and keeps his hand cupped over your little body like a blanket. Feeds you bites from whatever candy or snack he has with him - he doesn't let you have any of his alcohol tho, last time he let you try a strong drink, you got drunk after just two or three sips of the stuff and you were cranky and hungover the whole next day. As lightweight as you are small.

So.... yeah.... I might just be into that shit now....

this was so unexpectedly fluffy my god :')

imagine being that small and trying to take care of him in kind. you want to help out where you can, return the favor as much as you're able because he's been so good to you, but it's so hard! chores are right out because everything is so big! and you're just a little thing :( but you can help with his person, usually. feeding him chunks of strawberries that make you sweat when you go to pick them up, breathless with effort and laughter when he snaps his teeth at you playfully. he's never taken care of his nails before you and it shows, but that's okay, you like knowing his fingers better than anyone - better even than him, probably, as you doubt he can see well enough to spot that thin, silvery thread of scar that covers his knuckle, the one you think he must've gotten when he was still young judging by how fully it's healed. you like to imagine what had caused it, almost prefer being unable to ask because this way, it could be anything. maybe he'd even gotten it while taking care of another scary spider!

and you're more than happy to help when he has... different needs.

most of the time he just likes watching you, gets himself off as you writhe on his palm or balanced precariously on the mountainous bulk of his thighs. he likes comparing you to himself when you're there, makes your face heat as he chuckles, seeing how you're barely taller than his cock. sometimes, he lubes himself up copiously and cradles you in his palm as he strokes himself, careful to let you do all the squeezing with your limbs wrapped tight around his shaft lest he accidentally crushed you. it's nice, feeling the strong pulse of his vein throbbing against your clit, your nipples catching on the ridge of his glans with every upstroke. it's better yet when he doesn't drag you along, though, lets you stay put with your mouth working against his cockhole, kissing it the way you've seen humans kiss each other, with your tongue darting in to steal quick tastes of his cum.

unfortunately, he tends to drench you when he does cum, the sticky fluid catching in your hair and blocking off your airflow until he wipes it off with a gentle thumb. he's always so sweet after though, you can't be mad at him - coos as he helps you wash it all off because he knows it's too thick for you to properly scrub. he always lets you sleep in the big bed after, something that usually gives him pause because he's so afraid of crushing you. but it seems he needs you close just as much as you need him after nights like this, even going so far as to button his shirt around you just to keep you warm and close.

[whisperingdaze]

❝ I WAS ALL OVER HER ❞

⛧𓂃 dean winchester x fem!reader

989 words ノ fluff

summary ⨾ a look into how dean winchester sees you .

dean winchester who has had to fight his whole life— whether its monsters, ghosts, demons, angels and even humans. he’s always been drawn to people who can hold their own and that’s why he’s drawn to you. he admires your strength and the way you handle the crazy, unpredictable supernatural world he lives in. even if you’re fighting alongside him in a hunt or just managing the chaos of his life, he loves how you stay grounded even if everything around you is terrible.

he loves how you stand up to him when he’s being stubborn or when his protective instincts kick in too hard. it’s not about you always being tough, but the way you push back when you need to, showing him you’re not afraid to challenge his methods and ways and to make him see from your perspective, a different perspective.

dean winchester who puts up walls around himself, guarding him from being hurt again. his vulnerabilities stay hidden behind snark remarks, sarcastic comments, and the tough-guy bravado. but you, your the one who can see right past all that even from the first moment you met him. you see all the layers that makes up dean; soldier of heaven, messenger of god, the true vessel of michael. you see the broken pieces of him, the things he doesn’t know how to express, the flaws that make him. that’s what he loves about you. you accept him and you never try to change or fix him. you get him.

he feels a sense of relief when he’s with you, he doesn’t have to pretend to be someone he’s not. you let him be himself, the real and true him, without any judgment and just love, and that’s something he doesn’t usually get from a lot of people. he lets himself be vulnerable with you, knowing you always listen to him even if he’s silent and pushing you away. you’re the one who makes him feel like he doesn’t have to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders all the time.

dean winchester who isn’t used to people sticking around. he’s seen friends and family come and go, from his mother to his father, and even seeing his brother die. sometimes, it makes him feel that he’s destined to be alone in this cruel world. but there’s something about you, something that makes him feel whole. your loyalty to him is unwavering, your willingness to stay by his side no matter the danger. he may joke about it, or even brush it off, but deep down, he’s incredibly grateful and knows he’s lucky to have you in his life.

the guilt of everything he’s done in his life weighs him down, threatening to pull him under, like one small slip and he just disappears. you’re the one person who never gave up on him, anchoring him to this world. one thing that he’ll never admit, he loves that your there, consistently, through everything.

dean winchester whose life is full of mayhem— there’s the blood, the constant hunts and of course, the constant threat of death. and he’s been in it for so long that it’s hard for him to imagine a normal life. you make him feel like there’s something worth living outside of the hunts and saving the world. when he’s with you, everything is different. he can imagine eventually settling down, having children, getting married and all the things normal couples do. whether you’re sharing a meal together in some diner, or settling into some worn out bed in a dingy motel room, you’re his escape from the madness.

dean winchester who isn’t always the best at communicating and even worse at opening up. but you, your someone who challenges him to be better, to think outside his old patters, to overcome unhealthy habits, and to consider things he might not have before. it varies from, pushing him to take a break when he’s running on fumes or it’s encouraging him to heal from his past wounds. you know how to get through to him in a way that no one else can. he respects the fact you call him out on all his crap when its necessary but you also understand when to let him come around on his own.

dean loves the fact you aren’t afraid to stand your ground, especially when it comes to him. he knows he can be a stubborn pain, but you can hold your own against him while still showing him care, even when you don’t agree with him.

dean winchester who has a tough, no-nonsense exterior. he knows the world can be messed up and pretty dark, and it’s rare for him to find someone who holds onto their sense of empathy. he loves how you care about people, how your heart hasn’t hardened by the world’s cruelty. you’ve got a natural way of bringing light into his life without trying, and that’s something he never thought he would find.

in a word full of demons and monsters, he appreciates that you haven’t lost sight of what matters the most; kindness, love and loyalty. you make him remember that there’s still good in this world, and that’s what he clings onto.

dean winchester is a guy who doesn’t always take life seriously, he uses humour as his armour sometimes. and he loves your sense of your humour too, you get his jokes and sometimes you can even one-up him with your own quick wit. he loves the way you can make him laugh, even when he has been to hell and back. this sets you apart from anyone else in his life.

the laughter you two share together, is something dean holds onto. it’s those moments when he truly feels alive. he isn’t just a hunter, or just a survivor— but a guy who is trying to enjoy his life with you. the love of his life.

[raptorific]

Three quick things:

The move is actually very easy to stop just by having a defensive line that's stronger than the opposing offensive line and able to push the quarterback back, that's why the move is regularly stopped when it's attempted by teams other than the Eagles. The move isn't unstoppable, most teams are just worse at football than the Eagles.

Repeatedly and flagrantly crossing the line of scrimmage before the snap is not "getting unlucky with the timing," it's an intentional and blatant foul, something Frankie Luvu is notorious for doing. This move is the equivalent of a boxer throwing a below-belt punch before the bell, being warned for it, and then immediately doing it again. We were literally warned before this game "watch out for Frankie Luvu, he plays dirty," and guess what, he did, and he really thought he'd get away with it.

The Commanders are the bad guys in every game, because they're a bad team with a target audience of bad people. "Eagles fan spotted" quick question whose team was named after a racial slur up until recently and fought tooth and nail to keep the team name racist in the name of Tradition, mine or yours? Which fans still show up to games with racist caricatures on their shirt, my team's or your team's? If you want to play the Football Rivalry game, go take it up with some Chiefs fans, it's the only team in the league that yours has any high ground on. That, or support a better team.

Fun thing about football right now is that there's a move called the "brotherly shove" that the Eagles do when they're very close to scoring, where the whole team puts their hands on the ass of the guy with the ball and physically propels him over the line into the endzone for the touchdown, and all the other teams' fans hate it because it's got such a ridiculously high rate of success for the Eagles and doesn't really seem to work for any other team. People are straight-up calling for this move to be banned, claiming it's "unstoppable" and gives an "unfair advantage" but it really and truly is a skill issue. The whole league hates this move because it only makes the Eagles win more often and nobody else can figure out how to do it right

[kirbmey]

— 𝒃𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒃𝒊𝒈𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓!𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒃 ૮꒰˵• ﻌ •˵꒱ა

synopsis: there’s also soft moments with gege, the majority of them are!

tw: the usual stepcest and cute reader, besides that it’s all rainbows and unicorns, reader calls her mom ‘mommy’, i picture their house being spotted in some natural area and it’s quiet vintage, etc.

waking up from what you could swear was the worse night of your life sweating was not on you monday plans. caleb could hear your coughing from the other side of the house, so he visited you earlier than normal to check on your condition.

finding you curled up underneath your silky bedsheets he could barely spot your eyes. and when he met them he immediately knew something was wrong, very wrong.

he knelt in front of you as he was used to, a big palm coming up against your forehead to check your temperature first thing; no fever.

his best friend zayne (and one of your fewer ones, he trusted him to be around you) was studying medicine and told him how to spot things such as fever, flu or a mere cold.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　 “my angel, what’s the matter? what do you feel?” he questioned with a saddened expression, hurting when you did. his amethyst eyes locking with your lifeless ones.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　 “throat feels dry and m’ head hurts so much.” you complained with almost quiet voice, turning your back on him so caleb couldn’t see your pathetic state.

cold it is, he deduced. he softly caressed your hair for a little longer before standing up and coming back with the right medicine. he helped you sit up against the bed frame and medicated you.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　 “there you go, good girl. we’ll be taking these again in eight hours, hmm? for now you’ll be taking a warm bath, it’ll make you feel a lot better.” he informed you and stood up grabbing some fresh clothes from your drawers, heading to your bathroom to fill up the bathtub along with your favorite vanilla scented salts and lighting up cherry candles.

the window of your bathroom almost completely covered by the blinds, he could see just how dark it was outside yet, the moon not ready to leave for now.

when he came back to you he found you falling asleep again, smiling to himself at the adorable sight. “i know you wanna sleep, princess, but we have to wash you up first.” he acknowledged, he always knew how you felt or what you were thinking.

you merely nodded and lifted your weak arms as you could so he would take you to said bathroom, which was warm by the time you got there because of the steamy water filling the tub.

the pink countertop was your designated sit while he undressed you, not a single lustful intention in his actions.

he began rustling with the cottony fabric of your nightgown to finally lift it out of your lumpy body, leaving it aside as he removed your used panties so they could be thrown away with the rest of your clothes.

you let out some sneezes and coughs from time to time, making caleb pull you against his dressed chest and wrap his big arms around you, hugging you while resting his head on top of yours, just for moral support.

while waiting for the tub to be full of water you both heard a weak knocking on the bathroom door, hearing your moms voice.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　 “is everything okay, baby, you need help?” she asked, concern noticeable in her voice. you were quiet prone to get sick these seasons, so she always tried to help you whenever you felt off.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　 “no, mommy, gege’s helping me.” you said as you came down the counter, opening the door so your mom could see caleb turning off the tap, your discarded clothes and your naked form.

anyone would find that alarming, weird, off putting, mostly when you were already grown up adults. but your mother had a pure heart, just as you did, and only felt tenderness take over her soul when noticing how caring your step brother was about you.

she held your pale face between her hands, peppering it with small kisses as she spoke. “alright, i see caleb gave you medicine already. what about if i get on cooking breakfast so it’s ready when you come out?” she smothered your arms up an down.

caleb came up behind you, grabbing onto your shoulders and offering your mother that characteristic boyish smile of his. “that’d be great, ma, we’ll be done in a minute here.”

⠀ ⠀ 　　　 “splendid then, i’ll light up the fireplace as well! we have to keep you warm.” she mumbled while leaving the room, closing the door in her departure.

and just like that your brother held you between his arms, lifting you like a princess without needing much effort due to his strength, and put you down inside the warm and bubbly water.

he knelt in front of the tub outside, the sleeves of his pajamas rolled to his elbows so he could wash your hair and body comfortably. he would often times use the foam floating around to plaster it on your face and give you little mustaches or weird beards, gaining tiny laughs from you.

after a few minutes he was done and didn’t waste time on pulling you out when he felt the water running cold, making you stand in front of the big vintage mirror while he had your back, drying your hair and applying your usual products on it to keep it silky and smooth.

he then dried you whole and creamed your body with coconut scented lotion, massaging your arms, legs and feet on the way, dressed you up with a cozier pajama, making sure it was perfectly buttoned and squeezed your nape to make you turn to look up to him.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　 “feeling better, my dear?” you simply nodded, standing on your tippy toes to leave a loud kiss on his cheek. a stupid smile drawn on his lips; he was utterly in love with you.

when you two came out of your little bubble the sun was already setting, waving the moon goodbye. the wooden walls of the house filled with the sound of the gramophone playing your mom’s favorite jazz album; you loved jazz too.

she’d play it when she carried you inside her belly.

grabbing onto your brother’s big hand you would go downstairs to meet your loving mother place some homemade pancakes on the peeled white table along with chocolate syrup and orange juice.

caleb sat down next to you and in front of your mom, feeling your legs coming up to rest on his lap while you chatted with the woman who gave you birth, caressing the soft skin of your ankles as he munched on a chocolate covered pancake.

he could pick some parts of what you two said, something about his dad being out of town for work, something about the roses out the garden starting to bloom, to which you happily clapped at.

he was too mesmerized with your angel-like features accompanied by the lake he could see outside the window behind you, noticing how the swan that swam around looked just like you.

his little swan.

a/n: this is by far the sweetest thing I’ve ever written, i need me a caleb living with me in a vintage country side cottage rn ૮꒰ ྀི >⸝⸝⸝< ྀི꒱ა

— masterlist.

[realcube]

DRINK LIKE THE BANDS!

SENDAI FROGS BAND AU! in which you are their fav groupie <3

tws/tags → kyoutani, koganegawa, tsukishima x reader. NSFW MINORS DNI. alcohol, smoking, cursing, pda, fourway (except they don't really have sex with each other, just you), vaginal, oral (receiving & giving), anal, breeding, degradation, praise, impact play, overstimulation, slight daddy kink & slutshaming

note → inspired by this delicious fanart. smut is labelled if you want to skip to it. word count: 10.6k

your fingers frantically dart over your phone keyboard as you spam the groupchat, desperate for a reply or at least some acknowledgement.

laboured breaths heaved out of you while your eyes rapidly shift around, scanning your environment for your friends or anybody that could help you but even if they were nearby, your brain was too clouded with panic to fully process what you were seeing and all the moving bodies surrounding you.

and it was completely reasonable to be troubled in this situation, since your friends have abandoned you in a random club that you've never been to before. to make things worse, you had come on the busiest night of the week, meaning there was a sea of people bustling around and clogging up the venue and your friends could be lost among them.

however, you have an inkling as to where they might be.

before you lost them, your whole friendgroup were on the floor, enjoying the music of the rock band that was performing; dancing and singing along. your group had agreed that you were going to buy more drinks inbetween sets, so as soon as the sendai frogs had finished, they were all eager to head over to the bar.

that was, until you informed them you needed to use the bathroom. although they claimed there was no issue in coming with you, clearly they must have grew impatient, as they weren't outside waiting for you like they promised.

considering how keen they were to get their drinks, you're confident that you'll be able to find them ordering at the bar. that certainty puts your mind at ease for only a moment, before you realise — with how conjested it is — it would be virtually impossible to go anywhere. there was a wall of sweaty bodies that you'd have to penetrate with brute force, in addition to the overall darkness that left you unable to see where the bar even is.

this instilled a familiar sense of panic in you, but with whatever courage you're able to muster from the remnents of alcohol in your system, you persevere and lauch yourself forward into the crowd.

only to immediately be pushed around like a ragdoll and elbowed in any and every appendage you have. your drunken balance didn't do much to help you either, so naturally, it wasn't long before a dancing patron sent you stumbling backward, about to fall onto your ass if it weren't for a pair of arms that hook under your shoulders and stable you just in time.

your eyes widen at the touch, and once you stand up, you immediately spin around on your heels to see who caught you. it's hard to make out their features under the flickering, multi-coloured lights of the club, but you could tell it was a tall guy with brushy brows and a dyed stripe at the front of his hair.

" 'm so sorry!" you cover your mouth with your hands in embarassment, despite having to scream your apology due to the loud music.

"don't worry about it! you okay? you look worried." he says with a toothy smile, hand resting on your shoulder. his touch is reassuring so it doesn't bother you; especially as you were too consumed by humiliation to pay any mind to it.

"i'm fine, just looking for my friends." though you yell the first part, your voice begins to trail off closer to the end of the sentence, hence he crouches slightly so he can hear you better.

"lost?" he confirms what you said, brows furrowed togehter in confusion.

you simply nod, and he straightens himself, surveying his surroundings as though he would be able to find them, or even know what they look like, "how'd you lose them?"

you shrug. the stress of the situation coupled with the overwhelming atmosphere had your eyes pricking with tears, as you croak, "i came out the bathroom and they were just gone."

the guy scrunches his face, and leans in closer to you as he yells, "what?!"

the live music was deafening yet you couldn't bring yourself to speak any louder, partially due to the tears threatening to spill from your eyes but also since you've already been screaming all night and are beginning to lose your voice.

despite your burning throat, you repeat what you said as loud as you can into this guy's ear, but he still shakes his head with a pout, "sorry, doll. can't hear you." he briefly looks around before he motions for you to come with him.

you follow, and in doing so you realise he must be a far more experienced club-goer than yourself, as he is able to use one arm to efficently ward off the other chaotic bodies and weave his way through the crowd, while the other arm is wrapped around your shoulders to protectively hold you close to his chest.

eventually you reach the bar area which is a lot further away from the stage so the music is far quiter, so you can finally hear yourself think.

however, once you glance around, you see how long the bar is. the end isn't even within your range of sight, so searching the whole length for your friends was going to prove to be challenging. but for now, you focus on the nice man who brought you off the dancefloor.

the lighting in this area is more ambient, with less strobes obstructing your view, so when you turned to look at him again, you were able to properly soak up all of his features, and it finally dawns on you that the guy you've ran into was the lead singer of the rock band that was playing right before you got seperated from your friends.

the sendai frogs, you think they were called. by no means were they absolute legends or rockstars; in fact, the first time you had ever heard of them was tonight, so they were definitely closer to being a small indie band. still, they made amazing music and you greatly admired their stage presense — also, he was pretty fucking hot.

so perhaps you weren't star-struck, but you were definitely pleasantly surprised and curious.

and that was made evident by the look on your face, which he thankfully didn't see because he was busy securing a seat at the bar and calling over the bartender.

he beckons for you to join him, but there are no other available seats next to him, so you simply stand awkwardly behind his stool while he orders, "one beer and.." he twists his body around to stare at you.

not expecting him to buy your drink as well, you blurt out the first thing that comes to mind, "a vodka coke, please?"

he whips around in his chair and proclaims to the bartender, "and one vodka coke!"

they nod, and scuttle off to make your drinks. while the guy, whose name you remember to be koganegawa from his performance earlier, eagerly encourages you to sit down and make yourself comfortable.

"uh, there's no seats." you point out shyly, at which he raises his eyebrows and double-checks the surrounding area. even for some nearby chairs that you could perhaps drag over, but as you originally suggested, there were zero.

"huh. that's alright." his demeanour quickly shifts from defeated to regularly perky, as he slips his hands around your waist and gently guides you onto his lap.

you defintely weren't expecting it, but you couldn't say you were opposed either. getting this kind of attention from such a cute guy who is also in rock band doesn't come often. and there's something about his manner that's so smooth and sweet; perhaps it was that honeyed smile that made his wandering hands playful and not perverse.

sat pretty on his lap, his hazel eyes carefully scan up and down your figure, with his head lazily resting on his arm that's propped up on the bar. "you okay to sit here?" he asks and when you nod quietly, he secures your place on him by letting his spare hand run idly across your back, getting dangerously low at certain points. "so what was it you were saying about your friends?"

"they said they'd wait for me to come out the bathroom but they left without me instead."

"right. that's not cool." he muses, making an attempt to sympathise with you but it was hard to take him seriously when he couldn't even bring himself to make eye-contact with you, as his gaze were focussed elsewhere. "and what's your name?"

"(y/n). and yours?" you know his name, yet you ask him, to be polite.

"kanji." he utters, shameless ogling only faltering when the bartender finshes making your drink, and sets down an open bottle of beer for koganegawa and your vodka coke in a plastic cup. they also dispose of the empty beer bottle that kanji had been in posession of and left on the bar.

he grins at you when the beverages arrive, and doesn't waste any time in taking a swift gulp. not as keen as him, you also turn around to pick yours up and take a couple sips, but in doing so — since you are positioned with your back against the bar — you had to do a little bit of shuffling upon his lap, and the friciton only makes him grow more restless.

"(y/n) is a cute name, y'know." he slurs between gulps, and before you can even get a word in to thank him, he continues, "and your friends are idiots for leaving you alone at a club. that's so not girl-code."

you snicker at his observation, "what do you know about girl-code?"

"i know it means not to abandon your friend at a busy venue in the middle of the night! that's so dangerous; any random guy could come along and try to take you away." at first his tone resembles that of genuine concern, but as he speaks it devolves into clear irony and sarcasm, which is furthered by a teasing grab at your thigh.

"take me away to where?" you joke, while leaning into him, shortening the gap between you two. there's thick chemistry in the air, and that made obvious by how neither of you are particularly aware of what you're saying, and are focused on each other. his gaze flicker between your lips and eyes, filled with longing. you can tell he wants nothing more than a taste of your sweet skin, and the same is true for you.

"uh, i don't know. wherever they take hot girls."

you both laugh at his outrangeous suggestion, so hard that you find yourself limp against his chest. into his shirt, you mutter, "i wish." in reference to the part where he called you a 'hot girl', as you certainly didn't feel cute after being battered around callously like a leaf in a tornado.

while koganegawa's face screwed up with confusion, "huh?"

"i wish." you repeat, taking another sip of your drink.

"sorry." he sighs, slumping back in his chair and resting an arm behind his head, "can't hear you."

his tone was enigmatic, thus it was impossible to decipher as genuine or sarcastic, but his intentions are revealed as his lips pull into a smile of unmistakable lasciviousness.

you scoff, unamused and turn away from him, but he's quick to use your waist to angle you back towards him, hand wandering up your spine in the process, "i'm kidding, babe." he reassures you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear so he can lean in and whisper, "but why don't you come with me somewhere quieter?"

"where's that?" you ask meekly and he pulls away, but stops as his lips are inches away from yours.

"backstage." his hot breath tickles your skin, and the way his big hands possessively caress your body makes for an offer you can't refuse.

the instant you utter a word of agreement he's already scooped you up in his arms and carrying you bridal towards the side of the club, shoving past anyone that dare step in his road with a fiery vigour you typically only see in the marines.

all the way in the corner, there is a black door, signposted as 'performers only' and he puts you down so he can fumble with his ring of keys and try to unlock it.

eventually, he does and the door creaks open, and he invites you through. once you're on the other side, he clumsily tries to lock the door behind him, which gives you enough time to absorb your surroundings.

there isn't much. just a short hallway, with two other doors on the opposite wall: one was labelled as a bathroom while the other was unclear. at the left end of the hall, there was a bulky fire-exit door that was propped open, letting gusts of cool air waft inside, causing your hairs to stand on end. the fresh air, despite the chilliness, was a pleasant relief to the stuffiness and disgusting odor in the club area.

the door was being held open by a tall blonde guy, with rectangle glasses who you recognise as the bass guitarist from the sendai frogs, the same band koganegawa was in. his weight was pressed against the door as he smoked a cigarette; staring outside, he didn't even aknowledge the two of you entering.

though kanji didn't pay any mind to him either. as soon as he was done locking the door to the club, he moved to the unlabelled door on the opposite side of the hallway and attempted to unlock that. he had lots of keys to choose from but after five minutes of trying, he huffed, "fucks' sake, which one is it?!"

that is when tsukishima — you remembered his name too — decided to chime in. without making eye-contact, he remarked while exhaling a wispy puff of smoke, "we don't have the key, remember? kyoutani took it."

koganegawa's jaw fell upon recollection of this information, letting out a dramatically prolonged groan, in contrast to tsukishima who was completely unbothered.

"damn it.." koganegawa mutters, nervously rubbing the side of his face, "do you know where he is?"

"if i did, do you think i'd be standing out here?"

koganegawa grunted at his snide response then rushed back, placing his hand on your shoulder while he unlocked the door to the club, "wait here, doll. i'll be right back." he left you with a quick peck on the cheek before he ran out in the club area, presumably to search for kyoutani, leaving you alone in the empty hallway with tsukishima, who only now cared to look over at you. needless to say, he was intrigued.

maybe it was a the alcohol or the lustful high you were on, but you were feeling cheery enough to strike up a conversation with other blond you were left with. especially since you didn't know how long koganegawa would be gone for, "uh, are you kanji's bandmate?"

he stared at you through his lenses, and when you spoke he narrowed his eyes, "can't hear you." he said monotonely, shifting his gaze back onto the damp streets outside.

"oh." his statement was worrying as you were less than eight feet away from him, and the blaring music had been nullified now that you were in a seperate area, hence you could hear him just fine. but there was a chance being on stage with all the speakers and intruments might've taken a toll on his hearing, so you do him the courtesy of not questioning it and moving towards him, until you were standing right against the frame of the fire-exit.

now that you were closer, your senses were overwhelmed by the ashy smell of his second-hand smoke, mixed with the bitter cold of the outside air; it took everything in you not to cough.

additionally, you were able to properly see into the streets now, and they were as sobering as you anticipated. the fire-exit lead into a random allayway, with a nearby dumpster that was overflowing with garbage. to the point there were shattered glass bottles scattered across the ground nearby.

the moon must've been out too but you couldn't see it from where you were standing. you could tell tsukishima could see it though; you think you can see the reflection of the celestial body in his brown eyes. and only the moonlight could illuminate his features in such a heavenly way.

"i just asked if you are kanji's bandmate." you clarified.

"didn't you see us perform together earlier?" he doesn't look at you.

"yeah, i did. your songs ar—" just as you were about to recount your experience of watching their set from the crowd, tsukishima cuts you off.

"then why are you asking if i'm his bandmate?"

your eyes widen at his sharp words; from the way he conversed with koganegawa, you picked up on the fact he was a bit snarky, but you were under the impression it was likely banter between friends and that he would treat you — a non-friend — a bit nicer. but you couldn't have been more wrong.

your throat dried up and you were at a complete loss, unsure of a possible response to such a nasty quip. it worried you that he might have said that with the intention of leaving you speechless so you wouldn't talk to him any longer; rockstars do have a reputation of being divas, but he certainly hasn't reached 'star' status yet, so you wonder who gave him the right to behave like one.

while you were being troubled by such notions, in direct contradiction to his original attitude, he pulls out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, and flicks it open, "want one?" he offers in a characteristically dry manner.

it did puzzled you as to how he could follow up such venom with a innocuous gesture; the duality was shocking, but you were far too drunk to think about it for too long. instead, you carefully remove a cigarette from the pack and hum, "thank you."

in swift succession, he lights it for you, then goes right back to staring at the moon in silence. strings of smoke drift out of his nose to mingle with the icy night air, and once it dissipates, he unhurriedly brings the cigarette back up to his lips for another long draw.

mimicking his action, you inhale like he does, which directly leads to a coughing and spluttering mess as your lungs react to the volume of conjestive fumes. your eyes prick with tears and you swat your hand around in order to clear the cloud of smoke around you, and to add insult to injury, through your watery gaze you see a smug smirk plastered on tsukishima's face.

"slow down. these are reds." he remarks, clearly with the intention to mock you because if he really wanted to help, that advice would've been useful before you took a draw.

when the fresh air in your lungs offsets the smoke, you're able to catch your breath, and the first thing you do is reply: "you seem like an expert."

though you meant that as an insult, tsukishima evidently didn't deem it as one, and may not have picked up on your malicious intent either, as he simply shrugs and keeps his eyes locked onto the sky. "eh. anyone would look like an expert standing next to you." amused by his own joke, greyed puffs of mist exit his nostrils with each dry chuckle. noticing that you're not laughing, just gawking at him with your big dumb eyes, he spits, "what are you looking at?"

"you look really nice in this light." you answer, timidly.

his features stretch into a look of disgust and confusion, which does a poor job of concealing the burning heat rising to his cheek. quick to avert his gaze in frustration, he huffs, "right. thanks."

you add, "a lot nicer than you did on the stage. the strobes weren't very becoming on you."

there it was. the insult he was anticipating. thankfully, as an experienced aggressor, he always has a retort brewing on the back-burner, ready to sling, "i'm not going to take that from a girl who was hacking up smoke a minute ago."

perhaps it was the drunken bravery tainting your blood stream that gave you the audacity to step forward, until you toe-to-toe with him, and take a shallow draw of your cigarette to blow the smoke right back out onto his face.

having seen you coming, he seals his lips and screws his eyes shut, staying that way until your smoke disperses. thus it doesn't affect him that much, but that's not to say he isn't peeved. once you're done and are about to retreat, he harshly grasps your jaw to hold you in place.

leering down at you, he said bluntly, "you're annoying." silently, he admired the way your face looked in his hand, under the ivory moonlight; how your cheeks were framed so perfectly by your hair, and how your glossy lips enticed him. he didn't even know your name but he knew he wanted to press a kiss to every inch of your supple skin.

you're already so submissive; it turns him on to think about what he could do with you in bed.

"sorry." despite the tell of insincerity, you can't help but grin. pleased with the fact he's already touching you the way you like. leaning into his palm, and squish your cheek against his knuckles, and the next steps come naturally from there, as he yanks you up to meet his lips.

however, you can only cherish the intimate sensation for half a moment; you're not even given enough time to establish a rhythm before you both hear a rattling noise coming from down the hallway, to which you react by instinctually prising yourselves off each other and taking your respective places at either side of the fire-exit frame.

and thank goodness you did, as koganegawa and kyoutani stumble in. koganegawa barks orders like a wasted drill sargent, while kyoutani wears the most aggrevated look on his face, a fat vein buldging on his forehead, ready to burst.

"unlock the door, mad dog." koganegawa crosses his arms over his chest and slumps against the wall, while kyoutani thrashes the key around inside the lock, ramming into the door with his shoulder when it doesn't budge, "why did you take the key anyway? you should've gave it to one of us."

kyoutani seems to have tuned out koganegawa's slurred complaints, and eventually — either due to the key or the brute force he was applying to the door — it flies open and koganegawa cheers, beckoning you over. while kyoutani goes in on his own.

you awkwardly glance at tsukishima first, with look that says a thousand words, before you approach koganegawa. he beams, gesturing for you to go in, "c'mon, make yourself comfortable."

without a word, you nod and scuttle into the room.

koganegawa was about to follow right behind you, until he sees tsukishima walk over too, and he promptly stops him from entering by blocking the doorway with his body, "woah! what do you think you're doing?" there was a chance tsukishima was just going to enter the lounge to dispose of his cigarette butt, but koganegawa knew better than to trust his smartass bandmate.

"joining her." tsukishima responds blankly with no remorse in his words, to koganegawa's dismay. he could be slow at times, but kanji was no dummy; he knew by those two words alone what had happened between the two of you in the five minutes he left to find kyoutani. a part of him wanted to reprimand tsukishima for breaching every single law of bro-code, but he knew to not waste his breath of somebody who doesn't care for any form of respect or affability.

instead, he chose the confrontational route, which tsukishima was proficient in.

"you're not joining her; i called dibs!" koganegawa whines, his brows scrunching together as he pouts.

"dibs? you can't call dibs on a person." tsukishima scoffs, rolling his eyes at the ludicrous idea.

"well, i met her first and i invited her back here." koganegawa punctates each 'i' with a theatrical point to himself. "so she's mine."

"then why was she hitting on me?" tsukishima replies triumphantly, and koganegawa has to resist to the urge to smack that smug smirk right off his face.

"she hit on you?" kanji repeated it with wide eyes, as though it was the most egregious thing he has ever heard, "in your dreams maybe. just leave us the fuck alone, kei. you've never tried to steal a girl from me before so i don't know why you chose tonight to start being an asshole."

while their argument raged on in the hallway, you were blissfully unaware.

entering the room confirmed all the suspicions you had, as it appeared to be a lounge of sorts, filled with the band's intruments, speakers and other equitment. next to the doorway there is a small overflowing trash can that you dispose of your cigarette into. there was also a long black leather couch against the wall, that looked like it had seen the worst of two world worlds, and possibly a third: it had gaping holes in the leather, mishapen cushions and peculiar stains.

but there isn't many options for places to sit, so you plop yourself down in the middle, with your arms glued to your side as you patiently wait for koganegawa or tsukishima to join.

kyoutani was also in the room, he must have slipped in as soon as he unlocked the door. the floor of the lounge was quite busy with bags and jackets and hoodies, which he kicked and threw around, sifting through the piles in desperate search for something, muttering profanities under his breath whenever he'd almost trip over one of the items he tossed onto the ground.

it didn't take a genius to figure out from his conduct — and the fact koganegawa referred to him as 'mad dog' — that kyoutani was the brute of the band, and therefore was probably a bit of a hot-head.

despite knowing this, you still go out of your way to involve yourself in his dilemma, taking extra care to be very sensitive in your delivery, in fear of pissing him off. "did you lose something?"

"shut the fuck u—" just as he is about to curse you out from frustration, his focus snaps off the piles of jackets he was rummaging through and lands on your figure on the couch. as soon as he caught a glimpse of you, his attitude instantly switched.

typically he hates groupies in the band lounge, but he can make an exception for you just this once, under certain conditions.

he freezes in his tracks, and inquires skeptically, "who're you?"

"oh, a fan, i guess." you stammer, having to hastily come up with a way to describe your situation without divulging too much embarrassing information. "koganegawa invited me back here. i didn't sneak in or anything." you joke, awkwardly laughing to yourself, but kyoutani doesn't.

he remains deadpan as he slowly sidesteps towards you, "a fan?"

you nod enthusiastically, possibly too overzealous to be convincing, but you didn't want him to doubt your admiration for even a second. "yup, huge fan. i especially liked your drumming, it was amazing."

unaffected by your flattery, he sits beside you, piercing stare lethally fixed to you the entire time, during every movement. "uhuh." he murmurs with his tongue pressed to his cheek.

he's opted to sit really close to you. like really close. you were unsure if he was sober because nobody with uninhibited cognitive function would choose to be so uncomfortably intimate with a stranger. his leg was pressed up on yours, and he was relaxed on the back of the couch while you sat straight, meaning his buff arm was positioned right behind you.

you made sure to hold eye-contact, which is how you noticed he was wearing smudged black eyeliner. to combat the charged silence, you comment, "i like your eyel—"

"nice tits." he states in a strangely blunt tone. it takes you a moment to process that it's even a compliment considering there is not a hint of lechery in his inflection.

"oh, thank y—"

evidently too impatient to let you finish a single sentence, and determined to hasten the pace of the coversation, kyoutani interupts you again to ask, "you down?"

kyoutani wasn't as experienced at hooking up with groupies as koganegawa, which is why he hasn't mastered his 'sweet-talk'. albeit, the straight-forward approach has yet to fail him, but that could be due to his band, muscles or frightening death stare. or all of the above.

"like," your eyes widen, perplexed by his sudden inquiry, "sex? here?"

he nods firmly.

there was hardly any sexual tension lingering between the two of you — at least not in the way it was during your interactions with koganegawa or tsukishima — but admittedly, you had a gander at his body slumped on the couch: his toned abs curving with his posture, and his delicious biceps that flex when he lifts his arm. and with that in mind, you were willing to overlook the lack of sexual chemistry in favour of the physical attraction.

plus, just thinking about how rough he'd be got you so hot.

"uhm, i guess so." you stutter, and you needn't say more.

a brief smile flashes across his features, which is soon lost as his lips lock with yours, his big hands immediately seizing the oppertunity to roughly explore your body and press it against his. engaging you in a deep yet fleeting kiss, leaving you aching for more when as he gets up from the couch to march over to the door and close it.

just as he is about to do so, koganegawa — still in a heated contention with tsukishima — notices out of the corner of his eye and slams his fist down against the door, preventing kyoutani from shutting it. "what are you doing?" he yells, with some misdirected fury in his voice.

fortunately, kyoutani is more focussed on returning to you, so he ignores koganegawa's attitude and replies bluntly, "you know what i'm doing, so get lost. both of you." he goes to close the door again, but this time tsukishima holds it open too.

"what is wrong with both of you?" koganegawa shouts, exasperated, "i invited her backstage; the two of you need to leave."

"not happening." kyoutani snarls, then tries to slam the door closed again, despite the resistance, "fuck off!"

the shouting finally made you aware of the altercation going on by the entrance, which was likely also the cause of neither koganegawa or tsukishima joining you. hence, you call out, "is everything okay?"

upon hearing your voice, kyoutani instinctually turns around to look at you and lets his guard down for a moment, but still long enough for koganegawa to seize the oppertunity to shove past him and dash in front of you, while tsukishima and kyoutani quickly follow suit.

"(y/n), sorry for the hold up. these two won't leave us alone!" koganegawa explains while laughing awkwardly, motioning to his bandmates who both wear matching scowls. "but i'm here now, so."

"i think (y/n) has changed her mind about that, isn't that right?" tsukishima rebuttles, as they all suddenly turn to stare at you expectantly.

your blood runs cold at the sudden shift of attention and now being the focal point of the discussion — in addition to how they were all waiting in baited silence for you to make a decision. you gulp, avoiding eye-contact and all costs and somehow croaking out, "uh, i'm not sure what you want me to say."

"we're just asking—"

"we want to know—"

both koganegawa and tsukishima begin to explain the situation simultaneously, talking over each other to the point neither of them were intelligble as their voices drowned one another out. their squabbling only made you even more nervous and confused. that is, until kyoutani speaks up, louder than both of them and asks,

"who're you gonna fuck?"

you're able to hear that perfectly clear, and so are koganegawa and tsukishima as they fade to mute.

the straight-forward question — although, concise — still leaves you with a lot to consider. not wanting to hurt any of their feelings, you choose the diplomatic route and try to formulate a response you think would appease them all, "each one of you is so sweet in your own ways. i don't think i could choose, sorry." you stuttered, pressing your legs together.

while kyoutani and tsukishima grumbled and griped about 'wasting their time' and 'getting their hopes up', a sly smirk spread across koganegawa's lips; one that they only noticed when he started tittering to himself.

although tsukishima immediately understood, kyoutani remained in a state of bafflement as he watched his bandmates cast each other knowing looks. after demanding answers, koganegawa finally pat his shoulder and whispered, "four way."

kyoutani hated the idea of fucking a girl at the same time as other guys, and that was evident by the disgust plastered over his face. however, it had been solidified that the only way he was going to get with you tonight is if he was willing to make some compromises, so he begrudgingly decided to pick up a bottle of vodka from the cooler and tough it out. as soon as the bitter substance hit his tongue, the situation was already starting to sound doable.

tsukishima always thought of himself as too good to ever share the girls he's into, but he was confronted with a harsh reality check. one that dictates he'll have to settle with certain conditions. once kyoutani has taken a gulp of the drink, he snatches it out of his hand and takes a swig.

[N$FW]

on the other hand, koganegawa couldn't be more pleased. it was likely linked to the fact that so far tonight he has had more to drink than either of him, but he's more focussed on finally getting to fuck you after all the effort he's gone through. as shown by his speed in dropping down onto the couch next to you, swiftly wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close to facillitate a deep kiss.

while his hands wander suggestively over your body — grabbing and groping at whatever parts he desires — kyoutani and tsukishima watch in horror, then hastily join as to not let him have you all to himself.

kyoutani plops down on your other side, using his strong arms to aggressively yank you onto his lap. your lips were still locked with koganegawa's, with your arms still drapes over his shoudlers, so the only response you give to kyoutani's action is a muffled yelp. but this surprisingly does seem to bother him, since he is more involved with other priorities. such as unbuckling his belt with one hand while the other delves between your thighs, wandering under your dress and grazing the damp fabric of your panties with the tips of two fingers.

tsukishima clicks his tongue at the obscene sight, grimacing with repulsion but somehow unable to pry his eyes away. "this is gross.." he grumbles to himself, but the rest of you are too occupied to even aknowledge his comment. with a curbed sigh, he takes another gulp of vodka — straight from the bottle — before reluctantly approaching the situation.

although he is lost as to where he is supposed to fit himself in, since you're currently engaging in a passionate kiss with koganegawa and greedily fondling your ass and pussy in his lap. however, you are considerate enough to notice his aimless figure out of the corner of your eyes, so you hastily pull free from the kiss to face tsukishima instead. surprisingly, koganegawa doesn't seem to mind, and shifts his focus to peppering kisses across your collarbone and neck, occassionally sucking a hickey into your soft skin, while kneading your tits in one of his hands.

your attention fell on tsukishima, who stood tall and loomed over you, hooded yet intimidating eyes gazing down. this proved as an obstacle as he was far too high up for you to kiss, since kyoutani had you secured on his lap by his muscled arms, and tsukishima didn't seem interested in kneeling to meet your height. however, this wasn't an issue for him, as it mean your head was at the perfect height to attend to the erection growing in his pants. you glance up at him innocently, and he reciprocates with a sly smirk, as he hands work to unzip his fly and free his cock.

while tsukishima did that, you sat and whimpered quietly as koganegawa diligently marked your neck with hickeys, leaning into his warm touch. as well as kyoutani tugging your panties aside to rub at your sensitive folds, relishing in your wetness and how you subconsciously tensed your thighs around his veiny forearms. so sweet. only made him more eager to hike up the skirt of your dress to reveal your whole ass for him. his hands move from your cunt up to your waist, utilising his grip to hold you over his lap, and you yelp as he suddenly pushes you off him.

he uses his other hand to align his cock with your juicy entrance, then wastes no time in letting go of your body, allowing you to sink down on his length, savouring the satisfying stretch of your snug pussy as it consumed him. "shit.. you're tight, bitch."

a guttural groan was drawn out of your throat at the unexpected intrusion, and though his girth was a difficult to take at first, the painful quickly dissolved into warm pleasure, reflected by your walls fluttering around him and your eyes rolling back in your head.

naturally, your mouth fell agape in reaction to his thick cock being shoved inside you, and tsukishima found that to be the perfect oppertunity to grab a fistful of your hair and guide it down to his newly freed cock, graciously accepting the whole length into your mouth. although this keen maneuver was also abrupt, instead of gagging or coughing, you were able to quickly accomodate it and gracefully glide your tongue down the underside of his shaft, stimulating the base — that your lips weren't quite able to reach — elicting a stifled groan in reaction. he can't help but chuckle to himself a bit; perhaps it was just how inbreiated he was, buut he was amused at how much he was enjoying this, choking you on his cock in front of his bandmates. his hands travels from your hair down to the side of your face, gently pushing your hair out of your face with his thumb, gazing down at you with a desirous glint in his eye, "you're good at that." he rasps. though you could barely hear him over the lewd slapping noises of kyoutani roughly bouncing you on his cock, fingers digging into the fat of your thighs.

after you were hunched over by tsukishima, that made it tricky for koganegawa to continue kissing your shoulders and neck, so he trailed pecks down your spine, all the way to your lower back. that is when he took notice of your exposed ass, courtesy of kyoutani pulling your slimfit dress up. he smirked, and with not much else to entertain him, he licks his index finger and it ventures towards your uninhabited hole, while the other hands keeps your cheeks apart.

it was almost challenging due to the pace at which kyoutani was moving you up and down and up and down, but koganegawa was determined to give your insides a feel. and kyoutani, though mostly engrossed in the bliss your homey pussy was providing him, didn't mind watching it happen. you could feel koganegawa playing with your ass yet it made it you gasp when his wet fingers delved into your hole. "you like that, doll?" he snickered, squirming his finger around.

your gasp disturbed your ryhtmn around tsukishima's cock, causing you to have to jerk away to cough and splutter. tsukishima stared down at you impatiently as you did so, burning holes into the top of your head, meanwhile kyoutani quite enjoyed your coughing fit — specifically how you're cunt clenched him each time. "fuck, that's good." he grunts.

once you were finished, you were swiftly guided back to tsukki's dick, encouraging you to reestablish your previous speed. "keep going. you're not done til i cum in that whore mouth." he states sternly, his mean tone laced with teasing. you quickly get to work, eagerly sucking his cock at a furious pace, to the point where drool was beginning to spill from the corner of your mouth, which tsukishima carefully wiped away with his thumb.

"hey, don't talk to her that, kei." koganegawa slurs from behind you, and even though you couldn't see his shit-eating grin, you could tell by his inflection that he was joking. and if that wasn't already clear, it was further demonstrated as he begins thrusting his fingers in and out of your puckered hole. "whores usually aren't this tight."

a smile ghosts over tsukishima's lips at koganegawa's reply, however he was mostly amused by the fervent way you devoured his cock — like you were starving. it was too good; worth sharing for. the only downside was that he was getting dangerously close to a climax already, but he didn't want to be the first one to finish.

thankfully, soon enough, kyoutani's guttural grunts were increasing in volume and it was becoming evident to everyone that he was close, and that notion was solidified by his prolonged groan, "shit.. gunna fill this bitch up.."

koganegawa either took pity on you or maybe just wanted to be the first one to cum inside you, but whatever the reason, he used his leverage on your ass to push you upwards just as kyoutani was ready to bust. thus, instead of spilling inside your spongy walls like he intended, kyoutani came while your hole was hovering above his tips, and thick spurts of cum leaked all over his own lap.

"fuck!" he exclaimed from both disgust and orgasmic bliss, glaring daggers at koganegawa. if it wasn't for the fact he was flushed and recovering from the best orgasm he's had in months, kyoutani would've attacked koganegawa in a heartbeat for making such a mess. but currently, he was so fucked out and hazed he couldn't bring himself to lift a finger. plus, he currently had more pressing priorities.

while kyoutani stripped himself of his soiled jeans, tsukishima had lost himself in the hedonistic euphoria brought to him by your expert mouth. and now that the friction in your pussy wasn't sending numbingly delicious waves of pleasure wracking through your body, you could focus all your energy on bringing tsukishima over the final hurdle.

which you did, rapidly. there wasn't much time between kyoutani's orgasm and tsukishima being sent hurtling to his climax. your lips dragged frantically back and forth on his length, while your hand stimulated the parts your mouth wasn't able to fit. but in a frenzied rush, you abandon the handjob all together and start deep-throating his whole fucking cock.

you only manage to do this three times before he cums.

his hand tangles itself in your hair which allows him to fuck your mouth throughout the duration of his high, letting his hot seed ooze down your throat. "just like that. drink it up, princess." he heaves, not usually one to dirty talk but his lust blurred mind drove him to utter the first coherent thoughts that occured to him.

"yeah, princess." koganegawa tittered to himself, yanking his finger out of your hole with a lewd pop. if tsukishima's uncharacteristically pornographic grunts weren't enough to motivate you, the brutal spank koganegawa planted on your ass certainly was. followed by an even harsher one, that made your whole body shake, courtesy of kyoutani.

despite your bruised and sore throat, you were somehow able to slurp down every last drop of his salty cum, all while gazing up at him with watery eyes. watching as his face glazed over in pleasure, his heavy breaths steaming up his rectangular glasses that sunk to tip of his tongue. he was so hot; it made all the effort you put into pleasing him infinitely worth it.

and he thought the same of you, when he was able to catch a glimpse of you through his hazy vision and foggy glasses. the way your cute nose scrunched up at the taste, and your lips parted into a pretty 'o' around his girth, and how your cheeks puffed out cutely. it all contributed to his euphoric orgasm. he was on cloud nine and never wanted to the moment to end, hence he tried to stretch it out for as long as he could, keeping your head held close to his base until your mouth had milked his cock for all he had.

after his high had definitively concluded, he finally relaxed his grip on your hair, therefore you are able to slip away, gasping for air and filling your sinuses with fresh air for the first time in what felt like ages. "damn.." you mutter to yourself, already somewhat missing the saturated sensation of his dick in your mouth.

he cupped your chin in his hands and tilts your head up to meet his piercing stare, squishing your tear-stained cheeks in the process. "tired?"

you silently shake your head, not breaking eye-contact.

tsukishima opens his mouth to respond, but is cut off by koganegawa saying in a whiny tone, "good! 'cause i've not had a turn yet." tsukki watches with narrowed eyes as kanji grabs your thighs and pulls you off kyoutani's lap. he shuffles onto his knees and positions you so you are bent over in front of him, with your pussy aligned with his hips, while your cheek is pressed against kyoutani's muscular — and bare — thigh. conveniently facing his stiff cock.

"look at this pretty fuckin' pussy." koganegawa still had his jeans on and would playfully thrust his clothed erection against your sopping cunt, and the friction from that alone was enough to make him whimper under his breathe. despite the addicting sensation, the sight of your glistening pussy — still slick and dripping with arousal — completely hypnotised him. it had him gripping at your thighs in order to lift you up, until your cunt aligned with his mouth and he could lick a long stripe between your folds, revelling in the taste.

not anticipating that variety of stimulation at all, a small gasp exits you at the abruptness of both the touch and being lifted up. however, kyoutani is quick to shut you up by aggressively stuffing his firm cock into your mouth. his wasn't as long as tsukki's so you didn't instantly choke in it, however it was far thicker, leaving your mouth far more full. there was barely any space for your tongue to move around.

similar to before, kyoutani grabbed your hair and used to make you suck at the speed of his choosing. though, unlike tsukishima, kyoutani left you with no autonomy, steering you entirely to his pleasing and forcing you to blow him at an unreal pace. your head bobbed up and down furiously on his dick, presumably bruising your lips each time you were slammed onto his pace. not that you minded, you frankly quite enjoyed him using your face as his own personally fleshlight. at least in exchange for all the deliriously horny praise he spluttered for you, "go on, take it, bitch. in that sexy mouth. like a fuckin' whore."

meanwhile, you were finding it difficult to stifle your moans as koganegawa went to town between your thighs. licking and lapping up your juices as though he was starving. using his thumbs to spread your folds apart so he could access every last inch of your soaked pussy, sucking and nibbling on every part he could. drawling incoherently against your lips, "mmph, fuck you taste sweet. and yer so wet, doll." he whined almost tearfully, "shit— what've we been missing out on?"

eventually he had to pull away to catch his breathe and shakily wipe your slick off his chin and cheeks with the back of his hand. even as he did so, he glanced to the side at tsukishima — who was idly tracing his finger up your spine — and kanji grabbed ahold of your ass and angled it to the side, panting, "kei, try it."

tsukishima blinked, taking a moment to process the offer. a muted part of him was aware of how regretful he would be in the morning, but that still didn't stop his legs from moving on their own, hesitantly sitting down right next to koganegawa, so his face was only inches away from your hole.

kanji's pointed pupils were locked to tsukishima the entire time; watching carefully as the taller blonde slowly leans in to your pussy, until his lips connect with your folds. his pace is face more leisurely than koganegawa's, taking his time in stimulating his clit with your tongue and massaging your labia with mouth. suckling and kissing on your pussy as though he was making out with an adoring lover. his eyelids fluttered shut as he got lost between your legs, much to the amusement of his observing bandmate, "good, ain't it?" kanji snickers.

tsukki replies with an incomprehensibly muffled groan, which vibrated against your swollen clit. glassing fogging up again from the close contact.

all while kyoutani was still fucking your mouth to his heart's content. despite how rough he was, you were eventually able to somewhat relax your throat around his cock, and welcome it into your mouth with relative ease. due to this, and perhaps his enhanced sensitivity from his recent orgasm, it was long until he had you pushed down to the base of his cock as he released into you, making you drink up his tangy seed while he melted back into the couch and grumble, "that mouth.. nmph—"

once he thinks you've sufficently taken his cum, he suddenly yanks you off his cock by your hair and lets you rest your head against his strong things, while he stares at the ceiling, chest inflating and deflating as experiences a post-orgasmic haze. idly, he strokes your head, dragging his thumb across your temple in a benign manner.

as tsukishima is still lapping atyour cunt, kanji quirks a brow daringly and remarks, "bet you can't make squirt."

the strange assertion causes tsukishima to falter and his eyes to shoot open. furrowing his brows together, he unhurriedly retracts his lips from your folds and replies in a shallow voice, "what?"

"you ever made a girl squirt before, kei?" kanji asks with a cheeky smile.

just as he opens his mouth to respond, kyoutani interrupts, "obviously he hasn't."

kanji laughs, and tsukishima retorts, "of course i have."

"go ahead n' do it then, big boy." koganegawa chuckles and expects the mad dog to do so as well, but the other too just cringe.

"don't call me that, freak." tsukishima spits. but without requiring further instruction, he takes on the bet and immediately his lips crash against your needy cunt, with the goal of ultimately making you squirt. his work is unrushed and precise as it was before, but this time around his tongue ventures into your hole, squirming around and investigating every section of your gummy walls. simultaneously capturing your folds between his lips and sucking them dry.

his actions cast waves of heat cascading through your body, evidenced by your wanton moans into kyoutani's lap and your trembling figure as you approached your first orgasm. in stark contrast with the cold surface of his glasses grazing your molten core whenever he got too close. even though he was coming down from his own high, kyoutani still gave a slight attempt to reassure you by tenderly patting between your shoulder. whereas koganegawa took a more direct approach, steering you to your climax by shoving his finger into your sore asshole again and then following it up with a smack on your cheek, "you ready to cum, doll? be loud so we can hear ya, yeah?"

and just like that, aided by tsukishima tongue-deep in your tight cunt, eating you out so expertly, and finding delicious spots inside you that you didn't even know you had, you soon came undone against his face. your back arched and you were guided through your climax by tsukishima continuing to eat you out for the duration, and koganegawa kindly stroking your ass, "perfect, baby. let it all out. don't be shy, kanji's got ya."

"hgnh, fuck, t—too much!" you exclaim.

your breaths staggered out and you were left defeated and tired against kyoutani's lap. your legs were numb so you were unsure how they had the strength to keep your ass in the air, but somehow you said frozen in place. tsukishima hesitantly removed himself from between your legs, and he didn't even need to say anything before he was pushed aside and off the couch by koganegawa, "that was a good effort, kei. i'll give you that." he delcared smugly, referencing the fact that — although you came — you didn't squirt. "pay close attention. i'll show you how to really please a woman."

tsukishima didn't even entertain his ludicrious bragging with a response, instead he just scoffed and rolled his eyes, slumping down on the floor with his back against the coffee table, so he was facing the couch. he reached over and grabbed the nearby bottle of vodka and took a swig: he was going to watch alright, but for his own enjoyment, not because koganegawa told him to. "there is nothing you could teach me that i don't already know, moron."

"we'll see about that." kanji titters. he shifts himself so he is sitting on his knees, and aligns his newly exposed cock with your hole. the bulbous head of his dick prods at your slit, enlarged from how long he went without any personal attendance gathering your slick with his tip, he basks in the gooey sensation before ramming himself straight into your slobbering hole.

he pounded into you wildly and repeatedly, very euthusiatic and able to maintain a consistently hard and fast pace; the direct results of holding in his lust for so long. each time his hips connected with yours, a filthy slapping noise rung throughout the room from his balls colliding with your soaked clit. when his eyes weren't threatening to roll back into his neck from the sheer and overwhelming pleasure your tight cunt was bringing him, they were glued to your ass, admiring its subtle bounce each time he thrust into you.

"hah- knew you'd be tight, baby, but— shit, this 's crazy." his eyes screwed shut, burning tears glossing his lashline, as he audibly struggles to cope with the way your cunt clings to him. "best— hnngh, best pussy i've ever fuckin' had. where've you been hah— hiding, angel?" despite this, he hammers into your pussy with ease, but he worries he might finish in you sooner than anticipated. and you can feel this by the way his dick throbs within you, since he's so big you can sense every little pulse of his veins and ever-so-slight leaking of precum from his engorged tip.

"gunna pump you full of my load, yeah.. you like that shit, right? being kanji's sweet little cumdump, huh?" he rambles on, meanwhile you are too fucked out to even think of a response.

not wanting to be selfish and cum before you, he places a hand on your labia and frantically palms at your clit, coaxing you to an orgasm with his honeyed words, "c'mon, princess. ngh— almost there; be a good girl 'n cum for me. make this— nggh— this tight pussy squirt, i know you can do it."

the whole couch rocks with the fierce rate at which he ploughs into you, and with the way your loving cunt chews down on his cock, it's not long before he spills inside you. lazily grinding with his head tossed back, punctuating each wet thrust with a hushed curse.

"there. we. fucking. go. just like that, angel; milk daddy's cock dry.. you know, hah— you need it." his hot cum flooding through your insides and greasing your tender walls was enough to send you hurtling over the edge too. biting down on kyoutani's skin in a feeble attempt to muffle the shriek-like moan you were on the verge of letting out, elicited by the colossal fire that was literally spreading through you, lining your pussy walls and rudely intruding into your womb.

laboured breaths staggered out from koganegawa, as he slipped his cock out of your slippery pussy, once your orgasmic grip has alleviated. "such a sweet girl but you take dick like a whore, y'know." he muses, caresses your perky ass, paying close attention to how your hole twitched around nothing. "you were pretty when you came too. shame you didn't squirt though."

"cos neither of you could make a bitch squirt if you tried." kyoutani scoffs, picking you up in his usual rough manner and manhandling you away from koganegawa so you were draped over his lap, with your stomach against his thighs and your ass perfectly within reach. "i'll try."

"mad dog, leave her alone. i think she's had enough." koganegawa suggests upon observing your frail and weak figure, barely able to resist kyoutani's harsh grasp.

kyoutani grips your chin and whips your head around to meet his vicious stare. "you done?" with one brow raised, he rasps, "or do you wanna cum on a real man, slut?"

you innocently blink at him. with the majority of your brain fried, you were left to think with only your pussy, which is why you ended up nodding mutedly, despite the aching mess already pooling between your legs.

"good." he mutters. wasting no time, he plunges two fingers into your drooling hole. slicing through the amalgamation of fluids coating your walls, he fiercely thrusts into you, tips of his fingers poking at your gummy walls each time until he found your sweet spot. and once he did, oh he abused it. slamming into it over and over; a faintly satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he watched you cry out for him in a flurry of hedonistic desperation.

"ngh— so, so fast. don't st— stahh— op, please.."

"see. enjoy it, whore. no other guy is ever goin' to fuck you this good." he whispers into your ear through gritted teeth, his hot breath searing your skin. "n' maybe if you squirt for me i'll do this for you again. how's that sound?"

"mhm.." you whine meekly, enraputred by the violent fingering between your shaking legs.

his buff arm was cradling your ass in order to lift you off his knees slightly so he could access your cunt from a better vantage point, which assisted him in reaching the vulnerable sports inside you that he had discovered. the parts that had your toes curling in your heels and your back arching erotically into him.

then, amidst the feverish thrusts, without warning, a staggered scream erupted from your throat and crytalline fluid came flooding out of your pussy. your eyes screwed together and all you were able to do was tense up and moan as your body went through the motions. your cunt clamped down around his fingers while gushing around them, causing kyoutani to groan a little, as he wanted to finger you through your high but he didn't have the strength left to prevail against your iron grip.

the overstimulation had resulted in this being your most powerful climax yet, so it lasted a while. with squirt pouring out of you and your whole body shuddering for what felt like ages. albeit it was a delightful sight for the three boys who surrounded you.

once you settled down and the overpowering pleasure pulsing through you eventually faded out, kyoutani was finally able to remove his fingers from you, with a vile squelching noise. your cunt cherished the empty sensation, finally free of any conjestion for the first time in what felt like hours. kyoutani idly palmed your pussy, slowly rubbing your labia and mixing all the different liquids that pooled by your creamy hole. "it's that easy." he says with hooded-eyes, to his bandmates who simply gape back at him, astounded.

"i— didn't think you even knew how to finger." kanji stuttered.

"yeah. you don't seem like the type, kyoutani." tsukishima adds.

"obviously i know how!" kyoutani barks angrily, prevented from lunging forward at them by your body sprawled over his lap, "i just don't do it often."

"oh, so you're just lazy?" tsukishima snickers at his own quip, and so does koganegawa.

but to their surprise, instead of getting defensive, kyoutani just replies nonchalantly, "yeah." he shrugs, "can't be bothered."

when he realises that your still on his lap, and he's caressing your ass in an oddly fond fashion, he is quick to push you away, throwing you back against the couch next to him with ease. "get off me." he snips, wearing a mean scowl as he crosses his arms over his chest bed-temperedly.

while you are laying dejected on the couch, koganegawa climbs to his feet and lurches over to you, then dizzily plops down beside you. very close, looking over so his lips are basically grazing your neck, "how're you feeling, princess?" he coos, gazing at your fucked-out figure with stars in his eyes.

"leave her alone, kanji." tsukishima slurs, shaking his head disapprovingly at his bandmate's actions.

"yeah, let the bitch rest."

"i'm just checking on her!" he whines back at the pair, then turns to you, "so, as i was saying: you okay, angel?"

"tired.. but yeah." you mumble.

"good. i was a bit scared we might've broke ya." he laughs to himself, still captivated by you, despite your unresponsiveness, "so, are you free next friday? that's when we're booked to do another show here." he explains, then abruptly leans in to whisper right in your ear, "then you can get some one-on-one time with your favourite singer, huh?"

"stop that." tsukishima immediately chimes in. "first you barely made her cum and now you're threatening her with more sex."

"sex with me isn't a threat; it's a blessing." koganegawa retorts, running his hands through his hair as though that was going to affirm his point, but really all it did was make tsukishima vomit in his mouth a little.

"keep telling yourself that."

"big talk from you, four-eyes. not like you made her squirt either." mad dog chuckles smugly. it was strange how they talked about you like you weren't in the room with them. perhaps they thought you had fallen asleep because your eyes were closed. or maybe — and more likely — they just didn't give a fuck.

tsukishima rolls his eyes, "you only got her to squirt because kanji and i had already tried, so she was on her third round. you would've never been able to do it if you had gone first."

koganegawa nods firmly in agreement, far to drunk to begin to comprehend what tsukishima meant but it sounded in opposition to kyoutani, so he agreed. "yeah, that's like basic biology."

"i could've!" kyoutani argues.

then, an idea occurs to koganegawa, which he expresses while tenderly fondling your thigh, "you'll have to prove it. why don't we schedule a rematch for next friday. how does that sound, doll?"

[oogaboogasphincter]

Peace Offering

summary: An (eaten) chocolate bar causes a rift between you and Joel. Joel tries to remedy the situation. a/n: surprise! this is my first piece in months and i'm so excited 😋 i was inspired by these beautiful gifs from @ellies-enrichment! it's a silly one but i had fun writing it and i hope you have fun reading it <333 warnings: all you need to know is reader and joel are in an established relationship, they argue but they love each other nonetheless, reader is a person who menstruates | word count: 1200

“Darlin’?” He murmurs with two soft knocks of his knuckles, quiet with remorse.

“Go away,” you manage to get out through your tears, just loud enough so that he can hear the muffled inflection to put two and two together. You don't want to feel like you're actually speaking to him because you've revoked those terms until further notice.

“Sweetheart, please,” he pleads, a little more firm but still gentle. He goes to turn the knob but finds it stuck, jiggling it gently. By the tone of your voice, he knows it isn't a case of a sticky jam and that you've locked him out on purpose.

Your patience runs out, agitation being throttled with every attempt from Joel at the knob.

“I said go awayyy!!!!!”

The hallway is silent for a few moments before you hear the departing trudge of his boots. They stop at the end of the hall; not far away enough, not at all. You want to scream at him to keep going, to never come back.

All because of a chocolate bar.

You were on your period and Joel knew this. He had searched high and low on your journey to Lincoln, abandoning you outside of decrepit houses with the gruff instruction to, “Stay put.” He managed to digest your consequential irritation and remained stubborn enough to avoid explaining why you had to keep stopping, if only to keep the surprise he was concocting from you.

When he finally found one, a precious little morsel of chocolate left behind in the dark corner of a pantry closet, a watery smile formed on his tired face and so did a lump in his throat. He steeled himself and swallowed hard before he returned outside, shoving the unbeknownst treat in his pocket.

Then, night came. You were sleeping as soundly as you could on some rotting mattress on the floor while he kept watch. While Joel intermittently stole glances at you, vowing to himself that someday he would find you a real bed to sleep on, he could feel sleep nagging at him to succumb and explore dreams of better days with you. Traveling exhausted him, but going up and down all those stairs in search for a little something for you… at his age, it’s safe to say it wore him the fuck out. He needed something to keep him awake, anything…

Like an idiot, he fell asleep anyway with the damning evidence left crumpled in his lap. When he woke to your ice-cold gaze and the wrapper clenched in your tight fist, he sighed in anticipation of the roaring sea of anger that descended upon him. It took a while for him to convince you that he had originally gotten the chocolate for you and hadn't stowed it away as some secret vice for himself. Though he kept to his truth, he couldn't tell which was worse: you feeling left out of his fictitious, sugar-filled world, or robbed of something you never even got the chance to taste.

He ate your chocolate bar and right now, you don’t plan on forgiving him. Not ever.

He knows you’re pissed and rightfully so. If some old bastard ate his fucking chocolate bar, he can't even imagine — especially with the current state of the poor Earth — what hell he'd unleash on the perpetrator.

But he can’t just stand here and listen to your muffled cries anymore. He darts outside, desperate for anything to make it up to you.

He’s already checked every house in a five mile radius. The nearest convenience stores have been picked clean or the leftover chocolate has melted out of its wrappers, rotten and molding to the floor… which he’s not going to mention to you because, at this point, he’s afraid you’d eat anything out of retaliation.

He runs around, wracking his stupid, slow brain for an answer… when God intervenes for the first time in Joel's life since he met you.

He runs to the Mars Candy truck like it’s a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow and he’ll beat himself up for the rest of his miserable life if he misses it. He throws the back doors open, crossing everything he can — from his fingers down to his toes — that there’s something for you.

Maybe he’s finally lost it. It took twenty years into the apocalypse, but maybe he’s finally hit the brink of no return and gone senile.

The shelves are fully stocked, lined with unopened boxes of every flavor treat imaginable. He lets out a gruff, “Oh!” like he's just been punched in the stomach, more excited than he had ever been as a kid in a candy store.

He takes fistfuls of whatever he can, stuffing them into every pocket of his clothes. He’s still doubtful of this truck’s reality, so he’s taking everything he can while the apparition remains intact.

With his pockets crinkling and chocolate bars sticking out of his belt, he jumps down and closes the doors. He can’t risk any trespasser eyeing this haven, not in a million years. He'll come back later and try to get the truck running so he can hide it in Bill and Frank's garage.

He runs back to the house with increasing haste. Blinded by his quest to get you some sugar, he has no idea how long he's been gone and, with you on the opposite side of town, he's started to panic. Bill may have gridlocked the town with traps, but the only security Joel deems good enough to protect you are his own eyes.

Running through the open front door, he shouts your name repeatedly... unknowingly passing you in the dining room. You furrow your brow and stand, crossing your arms as you yell out to him, "In here!"

He comes jogging back, breathlessly asking, “You alright?”

You nod silently, swiping a residual tear away from your cheek with the back of your hand and a soft sniffle. Yet, your brow maintains its deep furrow of agitation as you scour Joel... until it lifts with shock. Your lips part in awe and your tongue goes dry as you eye the familiar colored wrappers catching the light. You stutter, “How did you— Where did you—?“

Joel shakes his head, handing you a replacement for the one he ate last night with a sly wink. “Don’t worry about it, baby.” His tone is way too smug for your liking, but you can't bring yourself to care as you step back and take a seat on one of the dining room chairs.

You unwrap the treat and eat it, failing to strike a balance between savoring the treat and getting it into your stomach as quickly as possible. Joel watches the faces you make, finding them oddly similar to the ones you make when he’s between your thighs…

He stifles a chuckle before asking, “So, am I forgiven?”

When you lift your eyes to meet his, he’s widened his own in mock innocence. While that trick might have gotten him out of trouble with you before, the tight coil of anger inside you has only just begun to unravel. You stand and press the empty wrapper against his chest, muttering with a sickly sweet smile, “No.”

You brush past him, knocking your shoulder against his with a little more force than necessary. At least now he has a whole truckload more of I’m sorry’s to try and win you back with.

💞gifset links💞

joel at the door x2

joel opening the truck doors

joel in disbelief

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[saeist]

"you seriously need to stop showing up at my door at ungodly hours looking like a fucking corpse"

you walk away from the front door after opening it for your not so secret assassin boyfriend, nagumo

"hey, at least i came home alive and kicking" nagumo attempts to joke but it looks like you aren't in the mood for shits and giggles with the way you completely ignored him and headed straight to the bathroom

nagumo, despite being an absolute fucking mess, clothes bloody and all, still removed his shoes at the entrance of your apartment. a strict rule you had implemented after you had started dating

he follows you to the bathroom like a puppy that has been kicked. when he gets there, he sees you waiting by the door holding your first aid kit

this is basically a routine at this point. nagumo goes on about his day like normal and when shit hits the fan, he comes home straight to you

nagumo quietly sits on the toilet lid as he takes off his dress shirt that's now all cut and dirty. his blood or not, he throws it away to the trashcan

you let out a big sigh, opening your first aid kit. you take a second to look at nagumo, assessing his wounds for the night. a big, long slash on his chest, multiple bruises all over his abdomen and some minor cuts on his face

looks like it's gonna be a long night inside your bathroom

it's quiet in your bathroom this time around. usually by now you were scolding him to no end, talking about how he should be more extra careful next time because you hated seeing him come home like this

but tonight takes the cherry on top. you couldn't take it anymore. this slowly becoming a routine was killing you

you knew that nagumo was strong enough to handle his enemies. he wasn't in the order for nothing but sometimes you can't help but worry for him

the first order of business is to clean his wounds. you grabbed a towelette, run it under the faucet before cleaning his cuts and bruises

"wait can you count to three before you– ouch!" nagumo yelps the second the towelette is pressed over his wounds.

you kept silent and did your work. now focusing on cleaning the deep cut across his chest. he now was cursing and complaining about how it hurts

nagumo should know better that this hurts you as much as it hurts him. you absolutely can't stand the thought of him getting severely hurt mid mission or worse— dying

"y/n– babe, can you be more gentle– ow! ow! ow!" nagumo grunts as you tilt his head up so you could wipe the cuts on his face and his bruised forehead

nagumo's hands fly towards your wrists, preventing you to move further

"y/n, what's wrong with you tonight? why aren't you saying anything?" nagumo frowns, looking at you, "talk to me"

you shake his hand off of your wrist and continued working on his wounds, refusing to talk nor look at him in the eyes

when you move to clean his busted lip, nagumo hisses, jerking his head away

"fuckin' hell" he hisses, kissing his teeth in annoyance. he was slowly getting ticked off that you were giving him the silent treatment for no reason

you grab his face, forcing him to turn back to you so you could be over this. his usual playful face long gone as he scowls. he wasn't even trying to hide the fact that he was getting frustrated by you

when you press the towelette back to his lips again, this time snatches it from your hand to do it himself

"if you're just going to keep being silent then let me just tend to myself" he mutters, voice sharp with irritation

"fine. suit yourself" you snap, slamming your first aid kit shut, shoving it back into the cabinet and walked out of the bathroom with nagumo still inside

"oh, so now you start talking" nagumo retorts, watching you walk out of the bathroom

spinning around, you shot him a glare before you slamming the bathroom door shut, stomping off to your bedroom so you could go back to bed

nagumo scoffs, staring at the now closed door. clearly angered by your attitude for tonight. 'did i overdid it tonight?' he thinks to himself but he quickly shakes those thoughts away because he had no one to tend to his wounds but himself

while nagumo was still in the bathroom, you lay in bed, staring at a wall for god knows how long

you were busy thinking about nagumo and the state of his well being. yes, he is an assassin and that it's his job to kill people, but that also meant there are people out there who's also targeting him

you worry about him all the time. he's your boyfriend, of course you're going to worry. so seeing him walk through your 4 walls you call your shared home looking like that?

it was too much

the other end of your bed suddenly dips, snapping you out of your long train of thought. you didn't have to turn around to check if it was nagumo

you can't help but feel a little guilty that you just left him in your bathroom to tend himself but unfortunately for tonight, you let your emotions get to the best of you

a long arm slides over your waist, pulling you back. you feel your back hit his now bandaged chest. nagumo snakes his other arm under your head so you were now in his arms

you can feel him shift a little closer to you as he rests his head against your shoulder. his hair, damp, poking your face

"i'm sorry" he whispers, hot breath fanning the side of your face

for a moment you debated on whether or not you should stay upset at him or let him be but you are unable to resist him much longer. you feel guilty over your actions. it's not like he can control whether or not his enemies would only give him a slap on the wrist and so, you melt with his touch. you shift your whole body around to face him

nagumo looks at you tenderly. you can see the exhaustion written on his face. he then softly tucks your hair away behind your ear as you two stare at each other. basking in each other's presence. he's okay

suddenly, nagumo presses a gentle kiss on the top of your head. that was enough to start the waterworks. he's here, he's home, he's with you safe and sound

the second nagumo hears you sniffle, he immediately tips your chin up so he could see you fully

"man, i hate seeing you cry" he chuckles, wiping the stray tears that's rolling down your cheeks

"i hate you" you mumbled, "i hate seeing you come home looking like.. that"

nagumo purses his lips shut. he knows that this was hard on you. he knows that you hate seeing him all wounded. he knows that you hate his profession more than anything

"i know" he says quietly, his thumb caressing your cheek, "but it's my job"

"i know that but can you at least not come home like you're seconds away from knocking on death's door? you're going to kill me faster than you could kill your enemies" you rant, letting your emotions flow freely

nagumo sighs, resting his forehead against yours. "i'm sorry" he repeats again

hearing his voice sound like that made your chest tighten. you can also see it in his eyes, but he couldn't help it. things like this, or the aftermath of every mission is beyond his control whether he wins or not

nagumo shifts your position, pulling you closer if it was even possible. your face now buried in his neck. his free hand rubbing random shapes on your exposed skin

his own little way of comforting you and telling you that he's not going anywhere

when he feels that your breathing was starting to become steady, he pulls your duvet over both of you. it's times like this where his warmth and presence are enough to lull you to sleep

"you should go to sleep" nagumo mumbles, "i know you're tired"

you blink, looking up at him. your eyelashes tickle his neck but he doesn't mind

"i love you" you say, pulling apart ever so slightly so you could kiss him on the lips

nagumo smiles against the kiss and peppers your face with kisses

"i love you more than life" he says back, looking into your eyes. "i'll be more careful next time. i promise"

you scoff, nesting your head onto his bandaged chest as you let your eyes close

"you better or i'm killing you myself" you mumbled, slowly falling asleep

"i'd rather have that than anything else"

nagumo kisses the top of your head one last time, getting sleepier by the minute. you can feel his body relax as he dozes off with you in his arms

one thing's for certain is that despite everything, nagumo is still here, with you and you wouldn't trade that for anything in this world

[freddleafton12345-blog]

Movie Shadow x fem! Reader! 18+ only! Reader can be mobian or human!))

You told Tom you wanted to go out and try your new skates that he got you from your birthday. He agreed, but told you to be careful.

Were you? Yes

Did you still fall and scuff your knees open? Yes

"You have to be very cautious, especially on cement road like the driveway." The ebony hedgehog warned you, currently tending to your wounds.

Your lover was none other than Shadow the Hedgehog. So strong, so deadly, but so caring.

You giggled. "Relax, Shads. I've suffered worse! Honest! Oh-" you blushed when he kissed the bandages on your knees.

"I can help you. But we need a more suitable environment. More even ground that isn't bumpy from small pebbles." He got onto his motorcycle, holding a hand out. "My lady.."

"Such a gentleman~!" You took his hand, allowing him to pull you up behind him. Once you wrapped your arms around him, he zoomed off.

"WOOHOOO~!! YEAH!" You raised a fist into the air as Shadow swerved through traffic, ignoring the honking of the cars.

As he drove, he handed you his phone. "You can have control of the Playlist if you'd like. I got speakers installed onto this."

"Thanks, Shads!" You picked a song, then tucked his phone safely into your pocket, going back to hugging him.

The Hedgehog smirked. "Ah, My World Is Burning Down Around Me? That's one of my favorites, really."

"Yeah, same here! It's so relatable, haha!"

~~~

He brought you to a skating rink when it was dark outside. So you wouldn't feel embarrassed if you fell and someone saw you.

He hovered infront of you, holding your hands as you started skating. "That's it, my dear. That's it."

You almost fell a few times, but you knew he'd never let that slide on his watch.

"I think I'm getting it! I'm doing it!" Once he key go of your hands, you began skating the same way he did.

And he adored that you tried copying him.

"Then I think you deserve a reward. Change to your normal shoes, then follow me, alright?" His ear flicked.

"Sounds good, babe!" You removed your skates, then put your normal shoes on again.

Once that was done, you followed him behind a large tree.

What was he gonna do???

"Now then..your reward, is me." He got onto his knees and tugged at your pants.

Your face felt hot, but you helped him pull your pants down anyway. Something about the possibility of being caught by a stranger made your pussy get wet.

And Shadow noticed it immediately. He ran his tongue along your newly exposed thighs, before flicking against your clit.

You groaned and gently tugged at his quills. "S-Shadow..ohh.."

"Shh. Let me handle this." He started lapping at your pussy like he was starving for weeks, even inserting two fingers into your slick folds and pumping them.

The pleasure grew and grew, as did his pace. But you didn't wanna cum until he was inside you.

"Shadow, please..I-I need you inside of me n-now.."

"Beg like you really want it.." he continued eating you out.

"Shadow! Please~! I- I-"

"What?" He snarled.

"I want your dick inside of me right now~!"

At this, he pulled away and stood up, his erection hard and throbbing. He gently gripped your hips and slid you down the tree, so you were sitting on the ground. Then he lined up at your entrance and pushed his way inside.

"I'm going to make you scream." He warned, before thrusting into you.

You moaned loudly and threw your head back, not caring if anybody saw or heard you. This felt way too good. Might as well enjoy it.

Pretty soon, your walls clenched around Shadow's length, and you felt it throb inside of you. He was close.

"Ah~! Oh yeah! Harder, harder Shadow!" You begged, gripping his back quills.

"God- your going to be the death of me, Jesus christ." He groaned out, picking up his pace.

Your orgasm was mind blowing, to say the least. Usually, sex between the two of you was passionate and slow. This?

This was much better.

You panted as he pulled out of you, a mixture of your fluids leaking out of your entrance.

"Better clean up. Don't wanna have to explain yourself to Tom and Maddie, do you?" He tutted, gently poking your cheek.

"S-shut up-"

That's right. I knew u thirsty movie Shadow simps would search 4 this. Reblog if u want!))