#it's just nice to see him get popped for once

[eddiethebrave]

secret admirer part twenty-five

1043 words

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That morning…

Eddie it really sucks that you’re the only you  other than the fact that two eddies would be amazing on it’s own, i realized that you don’t know how it feels to have your attention it’s so intense dude you’re so intense in the best way, of course i can only hope that i get to experience that feeling more in the future maybe in the present, too p.s. i got your book again yesterday, here’s hoping second time’s the charm -H

Yesterday, Eddie thinks, he should have been more present and paid attention to what H’s note said. He’d sort of gone into tunnel vision when he’d been - however jokingly - accused of not understanding one of his books. It kind of made him wish for the first time that he could talk back. He’d contemplated just walking up to Hagan during lunch, but decided not to. He wouldn’t want to make anyone suspicious of the guy, no matter how much of an asshole he tends to be to everyone else. Eddie just isn’t that kind of person. 

The audacity of a jock who’s admitted to only reading books for school - and for Eddie - to allege that Eddie needs to read a book more than once in order to understand it. 

Has he read all of his favorite books more than once? Yes, but that’s only because they’re his favorites!

And does he notice something new nearly every reread? Also yes, but he chooses to believe that’s what Tolkien intended. It’s like a scavenger hunt of foreshadowing and little things to get excited about even when you know the ending. 

Anyway, Eddie is decidedly less preoccupied today and he’s been wondering what book H is reading.

His curiosity leads him to venture into the school’s library before he heads to the lunchroom. 

He tries to recall which books he’d checked out the last couple of months. Once he’s compiled his mental list, he tracks them down one by one. Eddie checks the card that’s in a pocket inside the front cover of each book on the off chance that Hagan’s name is logged on any of them - it’s not. 

Eddie does find it interesting, though, to see a pattern in a few of the names he does see. Those that pop up multiple times are mostly people he recognizes from Hellfire.

He slowly eliminates each book until he’s left with one that’s not on the shelf. The Return of The King. The last book in the The Lord of the Rings series. 

Most staff - like the students - at Hawkins High aren’t very happy when they see Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson approaching them. The school librarian isn’t one of them, though. Eddie’s been traipsing through this library for the better part of four years. 

Before he’d procured his prickly personality and style as a defense mechanism to the hostile environment of high school in rural Indiana, Eddie found shelter among the creaky furniture, shelves lined with books, and Ms. Hewitt.

She’s seen his sorry face more times than you can count and has always greeted him with a smile. Today is no different. 

He asks her about The Return of the King.

“Someone beat ya’ to it. Nice young man, he was.”

And while Eddie wouldn’t necessarily refer to Tommy Hagan as nice, he would for H. 

Eddie thanks and bids her farewell and then he’s off to lunch. 

He’s still having trouble conflating Hagan and his better half as the same person. 

So, H read the last book of an already complicated series without any backstory. No wonder he was so fucking confused. Eddie laughs to himself just imagining it. Against his better judgment, he’s hopelessly endeared. 

He’s late to lunch, but it’s not as if he was planning on paying for what the school thinks passes for food, anyway. 

When he takes his seat at the head of the table, Jeff places an apple from his homemade meal in front of him without even looking his way or pausing his debate with Gareth (the freshman who’d flipped Eddie’s world upside down by unknowingly revealing H’s identity as the one and only Tommy fucking Hagan).

Eddie absentmindedly munches on the fruit as he takes up his usual lunchtime hobby of gazing at a certain jock’s table. He finds it sort of odd when Harrington - Steve - forces Hagan to play musical chairs or some shit, but Eddie’s not intrigued enough to care, really. He does catch sight of Hagan’s red face and clenched jaw, though. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think the guy was pissed. 

The change of seats provides Eddie with something more worthwhile to look at, so he’s not complaining. Steve seems in high spirits, and Eddie feels his own mood brighten in return.

When their shared elective comes along, Eddie finds himself jittery as he awaits the boy’s arrival. It makes him feel sort of silly, but not enough to lessen the excitement when Steve finally arrives.

The jock takes his seat between Eddie and Carol and turns to greet the latter.

“Carol, Robin.”

“Steve,” the girls say simultaneously without looking in his direction at all. Eddie doesn’t pretend to know what’s going on there, and he honestly doesn’t want to.

Steve then turns to his left to face Eddie, and the last thing he needs is to be limited to the same dry conversation - if you could even call it that - so he cuts him off once he starts.

“Ed-”

“Steven Harold Harrington III. How now?” Eddie has never been the best at English accents, but he figures it gets the point across just fine.

Steve’s face splits into a grin before he forces his expression into a stoic one. He continues to adopt the most heinous English accent Eddie has ever heard - including his own. “That’s His Majesty Steven Harold Harrington III to you, Edwin,” he says snottily.

Eddie can’t help but break into his own grin. Never mind the fact that Eddie’s name isn’t fucking Edwin, but Edward. Few people embrace his antics, let alone engage in them. 

Eddie is so gone on this boy. He was kidding himself thinking he could stay away. 

Steve Harrington might just be the end of him.

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[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 7

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6

Robin’s been keeping her eyes peeled, and things have only gotten weirder.

Chrissy and Steve are still tied at the hip, still holding hands sometimes in the halls, she’s still wearing his letterman jacket any chance she gets. It all screams perfect textbook couple destined to win prom king and queen in a few months and pop out boring babies with glorious hair a few years later.

Except, she’s seen Chrissy leave two more notes in Eddie’s locker, has seen her and Steve pick up random books out of the library and pull envelopes out of them. She’d think the pair were pulling some sort of horrible prank on Eddie, if Chrissy wasn’t so goddamn nice.

And she’s seen Steve staring down the other boy, more caught in Eddie’s pull then even Chrissy is. It’s like he’s trying to melt Eddie’s eyeballs straight out of his skull with the force of his gaze. For his part, Eddie never even seems to notice.

That’s not even mentioning whatever the hell had happened in the cafeteria last week when Eddie had kissed Chrissy’s hand, and then Steve had whisked her away before Jason could start some sort of pissing contest.

Even the band nerds were all atwitter with that development.

And then there’s the other guy: Jeff.

Before this whole cluster of a situation, she hadn’t known Jeff from Adam, but now he’s everywhere. It feels like every other day now he’s climbing into Chrissy’s passenger seat and they’re speeding away, not a Steve Harrington or Eddie Munson in sight.

Or they’re in the library doing the same mail pick-up that Chrissy and Steve do together. Once, Robin had even seen Jeff by her side as she’d dropped a note into Eddie’s locker, which might be the wildest part of the whole situation; Robin had been under the impression that he and Eddie were friends.

There’s some benefits to being invisible: no one notices her.

So, she’s got all these building blocks to the juiciest gossip in Hawkins High for probably decades, but, no matter how she stacks them together, she can’t make them into a picture she understands.

All she knows is this: Steve Harrington is up to something shady.

Robin’s got her eyes open and a mission of the heart. She’ll protect Chrissy with all she has, and if Steve gets caught in the crossfire? That’s fine with her.

*** 

Chrissy’s still all over Harrington. He doesn’t get it, can’t comprehend why someone who leaves him such lovely, lovely notes has stuck herself to that douche’s side.

Eddie doesn’t get it.

Is it the status bump? No, can’t be, even Eddie knows the guy’s fallen a few pegs down the ladder since whatever the hell had happened with Wheeler last year.

Maybe it’s the looks? He’s got that swoopy hair all the girls fawn over, and the features to back it up. But Chrissy’s never struck him as that shallow, no matter how hot the guy is.

Is it the money, the car, the nice clothes? What does Steve Harrington have that Eddie doesn’t?

Is it the way he leans up against lockers, smiling at every girl in his sight like they’re his whole world? The way he tucks a lock of hair behind their ears, eyes smoldering, touch gentle? Steve goddamn Harrington with his jockish good looks and sweeping charms. 

He just—doesn’t get it.

He also doesn’t get why he hasn’t received a note in his locker for a couple days now, not since Eddie’d come up to her table in the cafeteria and kissed her hand.

Her nails had been painted a perfect pink, and when Eddie looked away to stare Harrington down, he’d noticed the guy had nail polish on, too: a bright yellow that would have suited him if it wasn’t chipped to hell.

It was such a small, incongruous detail, but it niggles at Eddie late into the night. It doesn’t fit with who Eddie knows Harrington to be. 

It didn’t fit, and he’s tired of nothing fitting together the way it should, so he’s been avoiding Harrington like the plague.

So, when he catches Chrissy in a rare moment where Steve’s not loitering in her periphery, he approaches again, hands raised like, see here, I’m harmless!

She smiles at him, white teeth damn-near glinting where they peek out from behind her lips. Eddie’s reciting sonnets in his head.

“Miss Cunningham,” he says, bending over at the waist and bowing low as she laughs at him. “Would you give this lowly Dungeon Master the honor, nay the privilege, of accompanying him on his quest this Thursday?”

Chrissy’s head’s tilted to the side like an inquisitive dog as she asks, “in plain English?”

He bounces closer, pleased to have even gotten his foot in the door. “My Dungeons and Dragons club is starting a new campaign tomorrow,” he says. “Want to come play?” When she purses her lips instead of answering, he scrambles to continue. “Or even just watch?”

Chrissy’s lips are still pursed, but she’s nodding slowly, like she’s thinking about saying yes. “That might be fine,” she replies. “Where should I meet you?”

And that’s how he finds himself with Chrissy Cunningham sitting in at the next Hellfire session. Gareth’s awkward because he always is when there’s a pretty girl in his vicinity, but Jeff smiles and chats with her like they’re old friends. Doug doesn’t seem to care one way or another, too focused on getting the newest campaign started to care about an interloper.

It goes off without a hitch, Chrissy’s presence blending into the background. He forgets her entirely until the end of the session when she starts slinging questions at them, and Jeff starts patiently explaining what a modifier is, and how they know which dice to roll as Eddie packs up his supplies. 

He’s got grand ideas about taking Chrissy home, had even cleaned out his van for it, but Chrissy was always destined to pop his ego.

“That was great, Eddie!” Chrissy cuts in, barely waiting for the party to finish celebrating to speak. “But, I’m already late to meet Steve, so I’ve got to go.”

“Uh,” Eddie says, staring at her retreating back, “okay.”

She turns back around right before she’s through the drama room door, still smiling as she calls, “see you guys next week!”

She’s going to see Harrington, the bane of Eddie’s current existence, but she did say it was great. No, she’d said Eddie was great.

Truly a mixed bag.

Eddie takes his time wrangling the boys out of the room and into his van, determined to hold onto the high of Chrissy Cunningham watching him DM—no way would he let Harrington of all people ruin his night.

*** 

She damn-near runs out of the drama room, lie leaving a bitter taste on her tongue—she’s not late to meet Steve, isn’t planning to see him at all.

It’s just, she knows what that gleam in a boy’s eyes means; Eddie was about to do something stupid. Ask her out, or try to flirt, or do something else both embarrassing and heart-crushing for Steve.

So, she’d done what she’s best at in uncomfortable situations: she’d lied.

Now, she’s just gotta get out of the school before anyone can call her on it.

The school’s eerily empty, the fluorescent lights only on in patchy segments, luring all the lingering students into the poorly-lit parking lot where Chrissy’s car waits. She just wants to get into her bed and wait until she can debrief with Steve in the morning.

She’s just twisted the key in the lock and begun pulling it open when a hand reaches past her and slams it closed. Chrissy jumps, fear coiling through her stomach and rapidly churning into anger. She turns, back to her car, ready to curse out Eddie or one of his other club members, but the words die unsaid in her throat.

It’s not Eddie; it’s Jason. His hand’s still slapped onto her door, keeping it closed, and in the dim light of the parking lot, his eyes are almost glowing. She wants to take a step back, but he’s effectively boxed her into the side of her own car.

“Are you serious, Chris?” he asks. The nickname sounds wrong in his mouth, all toxic and chopped up. Not at all like when Steve says it. “You really are hanging out with freaks now?”

“Jason, I—” Chrissy starts, hating the way her voice trembles.

“Are you sleeping with that freak now, too?” he demands, crowding farther into her space. “Harrington was one thing, but Munson?”

He says Eddie’s name like it’s a curse. She’s scared, still, but suddenly she’s furious that she wasted years of her life with this douche, that she’s still wasting time being afraid of him.

“He’s better than you’ll ever be,” she snarls, unsure if she means Steve or Eddie. It doesn’t matter, it’s true for both.

Without wasting another word on the jackass who’s made it his mission in life to make her feel small, Chrissy yanks her door open. It hits him in the face, sending him stumbling to the asphalt with a groan.

Even still, she rushes to slide into her car, ramming the key in and backing out without even checking her blind spots for unsuspecting pedestrians.

Jason’s just making his way back to his feet when she glances into her rear-view mirror before turning out of the parking lot and onto the street.

Her hands shake on the steering wheel making the car jerk about.

She doesn’t go home.

All the lights are on in the Harrington house, and she worries for a second that his parents are home for once before she sees the solitary car in the driveway. She parks behind it, taking the extra minute to line her car up perfectly parallel to it, hoping her hands will stop shaking by the time she’s done.

Steve’s waiting on the stoop by the time she makes it out of her car and up the driveway, hands still shaking with aftershocks of flight or fight. His arms are crossed, and he’s scowling down at her from his casual lean against the closed door.

“Will you come to Hellfire with me next Thursday?” she asks, voice wobbling around the request.

“Was it that bad?” Steve asks, scowl shifting into a teasing smile before she steps into the halo of the porch’s light and he catches sight of the expression on her face. “Are you okay?”

His hands are on her shoulders, warm and grounding against the chill that’s seeped into her skin. She reaches one of her hands up to brush the wetness from beneath her eyes. “Will you come?” she asks again, question firming up and sharpening now that she’s here, safe.

Steve’s hands squeeze, warm, warm, warm. “Course, Chris,” he replies, and she was right—it is better coming from his mouth. “Want to come in?”

She follows him into the house, curling herself up small in the corner of his couch, relieved when he sits close. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t rush her at all, just waits, patient the way Jason never was.

“You’re a great fake boyfriend, you know,” she says, smiling when he laughs and knocks their shoulders together.

“Well, as your fake boyfriend, do I need to kill Eddie?” he asks, and when she looks up from her knees, his eyes are almost shining with sincerity. “Because I will, you know.”

“I know,” she says, cheeks warming, not because she likes a boy, but because she has a friend, a real one who would pick her even over his crush. “But, Eddie was nice.”

Steve hums, slumping into her further. “So, who am I killing?”

“No one!” Chrissy replies, laughing just a little. Steve’s just like a dog with a bone; she’s always been a dog person. “Or Jason, maybe?”

“What?” Steve barks, all playfulness gone from his voice. “What the hell did he—”

“He didn’t do anything!” she rushes out, making space between their bodies so she can meet his heated gaze. “He just freaked me out.”

“But, he can’t—”

“But, you’re a good friend, and will come to Hellfire next week to keep it from happening again, right?”

Steve groans, slumping back into her and hiding his face in her hair. “You’re the worst,” he grumbles, only continuing when she pinches him hard right beneath his ribs. “But, fine! I’ll go!”

“Thank you,” Chrissy replies, glad she hadn’t gone home to recover alone.

Steve rubs his face against her head like the freak he secretly is. “Anytime.”

They stay there, bathed in the quiet of their shared companionship and the frankly alarming number of lights Steve has lighting up his entire house.

She’s almost dozed off, slumped into his side when Steve asks, “but, like, how was it?”

She laughs, body shaking with delight instead of fear this time as she replies, “Eddie Munson is such a nerd.”

[midnight1nk]

EPISODE CONCEPT #4

What if... SMG3 had the courage to confess his feelings for the real SMG4?

For context, this is part two of my Episode Concept #3 [link], which many have asked for! @lovesick-simp, this is for you! (this is somehow longer than #3, holy shit.) Now, without further ado…

I promise.

He could never forget the feeling of tangible pixels leaving his arms. What once skin and clothes turned into mere 0’s and 1’s.

Those eyes, the ones he was willing to sink in its depths for hours, they cried. Of apology, of bittersweet farewell. He promised a lot of things, and one was to never let Four cry.

But it was never your Four.

At the time, a thousand thoughts passed through his mind. That this was simply a nightmare, or he had gotten too drunk. Or he ate a Wonder Flower by accident. Somehow, some way, this can’t be happening. He wanted to deny it all, but he knew. Why deny the truth when he fading away in your arms?

Goodbye, Three…

“SMG3?”

Three jumped at the mention of his name, turning to Tari who looked back at him with concern.

Tari: “Oh, sorry. Just wanted to know if you’re okay. You’ve been staring at Lil’ Spot for a while.”

He blinked at her, and then looked down at the gray-feathered duckling nestle in his cupped hands. Ah, yeah, he was.

SMG3: “I was just daydreaming, that’s all.” [*looks around, recalling where he was*] “It really is a nice place. It’s not far from the Showgrounds, right?” Tari, smiles: “Yep, I always like to come down here, it helps me clear my head. Plus, I get to hang around with the duckies!” SMG3: [*nods and with a finger, he soothes the duckling’s head*] “You were right before, I could use the fresh air.” “Eh, Tari, a little help here?”

Three looked across the way to see a couple of yellow ducklings climbing all over SMG4, who was standing by the edge of the lake. All over on his arms, his shoulders, under his blue cap. As Tari ran over to help, Four trying to not let any of them fall while giggling, tickled by their fluffy feathers.

Three began to smile, and perhaps he could let his heart feel that missing warmth.

Have courage.

But the cautious part of him didn't let him. He should've known better, he apologized to his heart.

Not yet.

Four and Tari came back with the tamed ducklings lined up in their arms.

SMG4: “If I spent a little more time with these little guys, they're gonna think I’m their mom.” SMG3, hums: “You always did have a thing for being the center of the universe.” SMG4: “Hey, it's not like I do it on purpose.”

And yet, you managed to become mine. But Three kept that thought to himself.

Tari: “It's getting late, and I told Meggy I was making dinner tonight. I should probably get them back to their mother.” SMG4, handing the ducklings from his arms to hers: “Yeah, we should head home, SMG3.”

Three said goodbye to Lil' Spot before handing the duckling to Tari, who promptly went to drop them off and returned. While Four was distracted, folding up the picnic blanket, Three leaned towards Tari while keeping an eye on Four.

SMG3, whispered: “Tari, could you please do a simulation check?”

Tari looked at him, her concern reflecting once again. He has asked that everyday. Any chance he was with her, it was the same. The first few times, she tried assuring him, telling him, “It's okay, SMG3. There's no need, you’re safe now.”

But it never seemed to calm his nerves. As much as she wanted to protest, she knew that it wasn't an unreasonable exaggeration. Whatever the simulation did to him must've been really horrible for him not to tell anyone what happened. To think he was back.

Tari nodded and programmed a command on the floating screen projecting by her arm. A window popped up saying, No detection of simulation.

Tari: “All clear.” SMG3, letting out a sigh of relief: “Thanks. I owe you one.” Tari, letting out a small smile: “No worries, we’re your friends after all. Though, I wouldn't mind having one of your cookies again once you’re healed.” SMG3: [*chuckle*] “That I can do.” SMG4, swinging the backpack over his shoulder: “Alright, ready to go?”

SMG3 nods. After saying goodbye to Tari, SMG4 pushed SMG3’s wheelchair on the path towards the Showgrounds.

It’s been over a month since Three was freed from the simulation. The Crew wasted no time bringing him to the hospital. The rest, well, it seemed like a blur. To Three at least. The doctors and nurses, what they said, he never caught it. He was lucky that his friends were there to remember for him. Three wasn’t exactly sure what to feel. Should he grieve? Should he be grateful that the Crew found him and his son?

What he did know was the promise that he kept.

The Crew was naturally relieved to see he was in good hands, but anyone could tell that they were exhausted from the stress of the search. So, while Three was going through recovery, they took turns watching over him. The rest, who didn't have the shift, took the chance to rest.

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

One night, Tari and Saiko were walking down the quiet hospital hall, Saiko holding a gift bag and Tari a duffle bag with colorful patches all over it.

Tari: “Do you think SMG3 will like the card?” Saiko: “He’s a big softie on the inside, of course he will. Let's just hope we can pry SMG4 away from him.” Tari: “You can't exactly blame SMG4. I mean, don't you remember? He didn't sleep for days, or even eat. He was worried sick.” Saiko: “But he needs rest too, not just us. SMG3 is rescued, he should let us take care of it, if he wasn't so stubborn.” Tari: “Well, that nurse did say SMG3 would be better soon. Maybe we convince SMG4 this time.”

They reached to Three's room, but they found an unexpected sight when they opened the door:

Four fell asleep on the chair beside the bed, his head resting on Three’s lap like a pillow. A sleeping Three had a hand gently on Four’s hair with all the tenderness and quiet reassurance in the world. What was free, their hands were intertwined. It was certainly a rare sight, and they seemed so at peace with each other.

Tari and Saiko shared a glance, a gentle smile.

Tari: “Aw, that's so cute.” [*snaps a picture for the group chat*] Saiko: “C’mon, let’s them be.”

Saiko tiptoed into the room and left the gift bag on the nearby table. Peering at them one last time, she gently closes the door. They could always come back tomorrow.

There, what awaited in the gift bag, were reminders of home. A bomb from his cafe, a mini-plush of Eggdog, a record of jazz music. A homemade card, one side filled with heartwarming messages and the other a drawing of all the Crew with the Castle in the background, one of the best works Melony has ever done.

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

SMG4: “I bet I can drink a thousand cans of Monster Energy.” SMG3: “Nah uh! You’re lucky I can’t drink that stuff yet because I would’ve totally beaten you!” SMG4: “Oh, really? Well, I can’t wait to see you try.”

The two laughed as they reached the Castle. Eggdog greeted them at the door, happy to see his dads (And yes, I know what I said, shh) after Three's physical therapy session and jumped into his dad’s arms for a quick hug. Beeg4 slowly followed his brother, only letting out a pufferfish noise as a small “hello”. He isn’t usually the affectionate type. Four went to get Three’s customized cane leaned against the wall, and helped Three get to his feet. (The cane was a gift from the Crew but Bob was the one who added neat little secrets for Three to use. Though, Bob wants it to be off the record that it isn’t because he’s gone soft or anything.)

Ever since Four proposed the idea for Three to stay at the Castle, this has become second nature for them. They switched out the wheelchair with the cane at home so Three would be more comfortable walking around. Plus, he would usually hold Four’s arm to lean on. After his physical therapy appointments, Four would cook up dinner for the whole family. Or see if there’s any leftovers or takeout on special occasions. Three recently got the approval to eat solid food again, and Three couldn't be more glad. He was honestly getting sick of the same old soups day after day. Well, even if they tasted good. And they all sit at their usual seats at the table, not that they assigned seats or anything. It felt natural.

And today was pizza night.

SMG3: “Y’know…” SMG4, setting the pizza down: “No.” SMG3: “Oh, c’mon. You haven’t even tried it, you big baby.” SMG4: “And I already know that your ‘Ultimate Pizza’ is a disgrace to culinary art. To your tastebuds. Who the hell puts baked beans on pizza?” SMG3: “Well, Eggdog likes it.” Eggdog, helping set the plates: [*happy bark*] SMG4: “Oh, so now you’re bringing the kids into this? C’mon, Beeg, help me out here.” [Beeg doesn’t respond] [*acts dramatically, like someone stabbed him in the heart*] “I’ve been betrayed. Pleh.” SMG3, shakes head amusingly: “Shut up and eat, idiot.” SMG4: “Yeah, well, you’re stuck with me.” [*taunting*] “Forever.” SMG3: “Oh no, whatever should I… do.”

He… said this before, hasn’t he?

SMG4, mouth full of pizza: “Uh, SMG3, you’re good?” SMG3: “Yeah yeah, I’m fine.” [*eats his slice somberly, looking away*]

Four kept his gaze on Three. He wanted Three to tell him what was in his mind. He wanted to reach out and hold his hand. Comfort him. They have been there for each other at the worst of times. At each other’s worst.

There were two things they shared with absolute certainty: (1) they’re both stubborn, and (2) they would put up a brave face for the people around them.

Four did, when he discovered Three and Eggdog missing from the cafe. He would put on a determined smile, telling the rest of the Crew that they would rescue Three. But he supposed they could see right through him. That he was crumbling. Three was the one who saved him when he went insane and was possessed by the demonic keyboard. How could he not be frustrated at the fact that he couldn’t do the same?

Biting into his pepperoni slice, Four thought to himself, if only there was a way to take away all the pain Three was feeling right now. If only Three would let go of the front he has and let him show his pain in front of Four. To let Four be his safe space.

There isn’t much he can do, other than to let Three come to him on his own terms. When he is ready.

After finishing up dinner and washing the dishes, they all went to Four’s room. Eggdog and Begg decided to play Jenga, Three sat on the bed scrolling through his phone, and Four went back to editing videos since there was a lot of catching up to do. The record player was playing jazz music, the LP cover was signed “To SMG3”. Three bobbed his head while Four hummed the notes, admittedly it was a great disc that they could both enjoy. After a while, Three reminded Four to take a break from the screen, to which Four immediately complied and sat next to Three.

SMG4: “How’s your legs?”

SMG3: “Tired. But not as bad as last time. Could you pass the pills?”

SMG4, grabbing the bottle and handing it to Three: “Well, you are getting better in today's therapy session. Just wait a bit more.”

When SMG3 grabbed his medication, they briefly touched. It normally wouldn’t mean anything, but there was a tingle. Of curiosity, of warmth. The two lightly blushed, which they quickly brushed it off. They sat in silence as Three swallowed the pills.

SMG3: [*held his jaw by the hand*] “Do you know what I miss the most?” [*looks at Four, who nods as a sign for him to go on*] “Dancing.”

Three didn’t lie, it was one of the things he loved to do. That, and one other reason...

After some thought, Four stood up from the bed. Three didn’t even notice until Four stood before him. Four cleared his throat, a tint of pink on his cheeks, and held out his hand.

SMG4: “Wanna dance?” SMG3: [*puzzled, looking at the hand to Four and back*] “SMG4, I think we should get you some glasses.” SMG4: [*amusingly rolling his eyes*] “’It doesn’t have to be perfect.’ Isn’t that what you always told me?” SMG3: [*starstruck at the remembrance of this memory, lightly chuckled*] “And you dare to use my own words against me.”

Four helped Three up to his feet, his arms being his only support instead of the cane or wheelchair. At first, it was naturally awkward, being that Three is still recovering. Their dancing, if you would even call it that, was more of them shuffling their feet around the floor. They didn’t care.

Fly me to the moon Let me play among the stars

Slowly, they melted in each other’s embrace. Oh, how easily it was to be lost in the other’s eyes, pools of ruby and sapphire. Secretly, they wished they could be like this forever.

Let me see what spring is like On Jupiter and Mars

In the back of Three’s mind, alarm bells were ringing loudly. It isn’t real. He just wants to be friends. Somehow, Three ignored it all the moment Four gave him a smile.

In other words, hold my hand In other words, darling, kiss me

What Three didn’t know, Four was lost in his own mind. The romanticist that he is, he’s freaking out in the inside like a high school girl. It felt like a scene in the romcom movies he watches. But it was real. Three taught him how to give second chances. Perhaps there was a chance now.

Fill my heart with song Let me sing forevermore

Three ran his fingers on Four’s sleeve. It’s real. He’s real.

You are all I long for All I worship and adore

His shooting star, his sweet prince.

In other words, please be true

His hope.

In other words, I love you

As the song ends, the two came to a stop, but they didn’t part. Once again, they were lost in each other’s world.

SMG3: “…We’ve stopped.”

SMG4: “We did? Then, why is a room still spinning?”

Being so close to the other man, the tension was high. Have courage.

Even then, it wasn’t enough. He’s not your Four. Three cleared his throat, looking away before any temptation got hold of him.

SMG3: “I’m… pretty tired, SMG4.” SMG4: “Oh, yeah. Sorry.” [*reaching to hand Three his cane, hiding his disappointment*] SMG3: “Thanks anyway.” [*walks out the door, preparing to go to bed*]

SMG4 stayed where he stood, his heart skipped a beat. It felt like a dream. He danced with his… Well, ‘friend’ was never the right word for him to label Three. Partner? Maybe.

Crush. Yeah… that sounds about right. Ever since Four was saved by Three, he never looked at their relationship the same way. “Just friends” was the stability for the longest time. The “safe” term. And yet, it was selfish to wish for something more. So much so that Four had dreams of a domestic life with Three. Holding hands, to lean to his touch. To…

Four shook his head. Three didn’t seem ready, or even interested. It was just part of his imagination and nothing more.

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

The concrete halls were dark, cold by the touch. All was silent except for the dripping coming from an overhead pipe leak. Light shined through, daring the shadows to confrontation.

They didn’t think they’d be back, but here they were.

Mario, Meggy, and Saiko walked down the abandoned building, remembering their way to a specific room.

Meggy: “We’re getting close, guys. Keep your eyes peeled.” Saiko: “I seriously don’t see the point of us coming back here. Whoever did this is long gone.” Meggy: “Tari was telling me how SMG3 was, and… Look, whoever did this really messed him up. But they must’ve had some big plan for them to involve SMG3 in something. We gotta figure out what it was.” Saiko: “If you think it’s gonna help, fine. Like I said, I’m only here as backup.”

Finding the right door, they entered what was once the simulation room. The group split up and searched for any clues.

Saiko: “Looks like they didn’t come back here.” [*examines the monitor and finds a file of plans in creating the simulation*] Meggy: [*picks up the simulation machinery*] “It’s completely busted. Find anything, Red?” Mario: “No.” [*trips over a hidden box, spilling its contents*] “Ow, my ass.” Meggy: “Are you alright?” Mario: [*rubbing his head*] “Yeah.” [*looks at what he tripped over*] “Hey, I found SMG3’s clothes!” Saiko: “Clothes?”

Indeed, there was a pair of black overalls, a dark blue long-sleeve, and a familiar cap. Meggy picked up the cap, spinning it in her hands. Seeing the “M” emblem, she recognized it immediately. SMG3 wore this getup before the redesigns, and she knew why the “M” was attached.

Meggy: “The Youtube remote. They were trying to make SMG3 into a villain again.”

Mario and Saiko exchanged a glance, seeing the situation at hand. To force Three into a villain again…

Saiko: “You guys get out of here.” Mario and Meggy: “What?” Saiko: “The simulation machinery may be destroyed but it doesn’t mean another one can’t be built.” [*presents the file to them*] “That person’s going to come back and get their things, maybe continue with their plan. They already hurt one of us, it can’t happen again. You guys get out of here, I’ll take care of it.”

Mario and Saiko looked at each other before giving a nod. Saiko was right, the culprit always comes back at the scene of the crime after all. The two left, leaving Saiko alone in the room. She picked up a lighter and lit the file blueprints, watching these plans of cruelty burn to a crisp. She was lucky to buy one of Three’s bombs just for a moment like this. She lit up and ran out, letting the explosive destroy it all. The clothes, the plans. The building itself. Every single bit to a crisp.

No one messes with the Crew. No one.

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

“Three?”

SMG3 opens his eyes, widening as he recognizes his surroundings. The white void.

SMG3: [*heavy breathing*] “No, no, no.”

He turned his heel, ready to run, when he was stunned to see…

SMG3: “…SMG4?” SMG4: “God, you really are pathetic.”

Three is left stunned.

SMG4: “I mean, did you really think I had feelings for you? I’m only taking care of you because I feel bad.” [*walks over to Three*] SMG3: “I thought—” SMG4: “Oh, you thought? Please, get a grip on what’s real here.” [*harshly grabbed onto Three’s arm*] Villains don’t get happy endings.” SMG3: “Four, you’re hurting me. Stop it. Just stop!”

Suddenly, Four went limp, starting to fall over.

SMG3: “Four!” [*catching him*]

Three turns Four over to see his face half of it was pixelated, fading away.

SMG4?: “You… couldn’t keep your promise.” SMG3: “No… I… I’m trying. I really am.” Digital SMG4: “I got a chance to live, to experience love of all things.” [*his voice quickly distorting*] “And you ruined it all.” SMG3: “No, it’s not true. It’s not!” Digital Four: “Why, Three? Why did you have to be so cruel?”

In that moment, Four faded away, its code in the wind.

SMG3: “No, no no!”

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

SMG3: ”NO!”

Three jolted up from the bed. A hand clutching at his shirt, he felt like he couldn’t breathe. Four, who slept right next to his partner, also woke up.

SMG4: “SMG3. Three. It’s okay, that dream isn’t real. It’s not real.” [*his hands gently cradled Three’s face*] “Easy, easy, easy.”

Three finally came to his senses, grounded by Four’s reassurance. His heavy breathing settled until his panic was no more.

SMG4: [*his thumb caresses the other’s cheek*] “See? It’s okay. I’m here. I’m here.”

From the calmness and comfort of his hands, Three leaned into his touch. What he dreamed of, that wasn’t his Four. They stayed like this, the air becoming heavy. Until Three reached to grab Four’s hand from his cheek, but he didn’t shoo the other man away.

SMG4: “Three…” SMG3: “I can’t. Sorry…”

SMG4 sighed, once again unable to reach him. But there still had to be a way to help Three.

SMG4: “Hey, do you think you can sleep again?” SMG3: [*shakes his head*] “No.” SMG4: [*gets up from bed and grabs Three’s shoes*] “C’mon, I wanna show you something.”

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

Three had no idea where Four was taking him, but here they were: walking through the woods still in their pajamas, in hoodies, and shoes. They weren’t in a rush but Four was seemingly eager to show him this mystery. He looked at Four without the other noticing.

Me, the Crew, everything, it's an exact copy of the real thing.

The Four in the digital world was a mere copy. But even a copy could never show him what he was about to see:

Beyond the woods, there was a field of white flowers. Open to the beautiful stars above. The two sat down and looked at the view.

Three looks at him, hanging on to every word.

SMG4: “Whenever I get a nightmare, I always come here. I just happened to stumble upon this place by accident. But it somehow clears my head. Especially after… the ‘perfect’ incident.” [*small chuckle*] “I guess there are some things we can't get over.”

SMG4: “I care a lot about you, SMG3. More than you could ever realize. But it hurts to see when you’re trying to keep it all together. I know that feeling all too well. I can’t force you to tell me what happened in the simulation, but know that whatever happens, I’ll be here for you.”

Their hands got closer together. Their pinkies touched, they noticed but didn’t show.

SMG3: “I don’t know if you should. All the people I care about don’t stay for long. I’m unlikable, SMG4. I’m a villain and always will be.” SMG4: [*shakes head*] “You’ve changed. Besides, I like you. All of you.” [*their pinkies intertwined*] SMG3: “Four…” SMG4: “No, I’m not going to change my mind. I won’t leave you. Whatever you wish me to be, I will be it. A friend, a partner. Someone you can talk to. Anything.”

The air felt heavy once again, and everything became a blur. The silent wind passed through their hair. Have courage.

SMG3: [*gulping*] “…Then, let me ask: are you real?”

A free hand from Four held the other’s face.

SMG4: [*briefly looking at Three’s lips*] “As real as you want me to be.”

Whatever stopped him several times before, Four cut those ties loose. He leaned forward, his eyes slowly closing. He was patient and ready to see if Three would reject him. But Three didn’t and let Four close the gap.

A soft kiss, it was brief. It was tender. It was real.

Three kissed back, letting the other know he reciprocated. They parted for a moment, waiting for the other to make a move.

SMG3: “Then, be true for me.”

They went for a second kiss, this time with passion and longing. This. This cleared every doubt they had before. Their insecurities, whatever held them down. Three wrapped his arms around Four’s neck while other did the same, around Three’s back. If this was a dream, screw it, let them dream. This time, nothing was going to take it away from them.

A single tear rolled down Three's cheek. It's been a while, hasn't it?

SMG3, talking in between kisses: “I love you, Four. I always have.” SMG4, doing the same: “I love you too, Three. I wanted you for so long.” SMG3, parting from kiss: [*laugh*] “Oh? Did you now?” SMG4, turning bright red: “Uh.. c’mon, dude, don’t ruin the moment. It’s not my fault you’re attractive.” SMG3, mischievously leaning to Four: “Really?” SMG4: “Shit.”

Three nuzzled into Four’s neck, kissing all over and leaving Four laughing at how ticklish it was.

SMG4, bursting in laughter: “Three, s-stop!” SMG3, whispered: “Glad to know I wasn’t the only one who thought the same.”

Oh, how wonderful was it to listen to the sounds Four makes.

His shooting star, his sweet prince.

His Four.

After a while, the two catch their breath. They leaned onto each other, held hands, and looked back at the stars.

SMG4: “I promise I’ll be true for you.” [*gave Three's hand a squeeze*] SMG3: [*hums, returning the gesture*] “Well then, I’ll do the same for you.”

Three held many promises, one was to never let Four cry. Now, there was another: to be his truest self.

[hiddenlongingsfanfic]

With Any Luck (Lucky Boys 3)

The mirror looked like somebody had punched it just off dead center with a balled-up fist. Shards of glass held on by dried up glue radiated out from it so although his reflection was fractured Danny was able to fully see the remnants of the plastic muzzle.

He could see the 12 pinhole scars that surrounded his lips. Hopefully they would fade with time and all the ectoplasm he could eat. Hell, at this point he might even be able to get some real food in his stomach.

His stomach rumbled as he thought of eating a burger.

Of course, he still couldn’t really open his mouth completely.

The clear plastic surrounded his lips and were held in place by metal staples that punched deep into the flesh of his cheeks and chin. Danny angled his head this way and that, trying to get a good angle on the first one.

When he had woken up Danny had been able to spit out the metal plate that had been attached to his tongue. It had left his mouth feeling raw and empty.

It reminded him of when Tucker had finally gotten his braces removed. The teen had constantly been running his tongue over his teeth, flexing his jaw to feel the freedom of movement.

He didn’t have full range of motion yet, but Danny was able to at least open his mouth up a little bit.

The sink was barely holding on to the wall below the shattered mirror and it looked like something small and furry might have died in it at some point in the distant past. The taps looked to be in okay condition though.

He hadn’t had a drink of water in longer than he wanted to think about.

Danny turned the faucet handle without a whole lot of hope and was only mildly disappointed when the pipes didn’t even rumble. The building had obviously been abandoned for a long time. Any water that might have been left in the pipes after the water was cut off had probably dried up a long time ago.

Okay.

So, no water for him yet.

But once he got the rest of the hardware off of his face, he could go completely intangible and sneak through the city without having to worry about getting mugged.

Danny reached for the cutters again.

He couldn’t put this off any longer and at least he wasn’t going to get any more electrical shocks when he pulled the staples out. 

He did need to figure out a way to thank his benefactor.

The clippers felt like a present that welcomed him into the other man’s haunt. Practical in more than one way, while letting him keep his autonomy. He could get this piece of Ancient’s forsaken plastic off of his face and use it for help setting up electricity in his new little home.

The purr that erupted from his chest was rough and unpracticed, but he couldn’t help but eye the tool fondly. The rumbling sputtered to a stop when he reached for his face, but it had felt nice while it lasted.

He winced as he wiggled one of the blades underneath the staple. He see-sawed the staple back and forth to try and pull it free. He didn’t really want to cut them into multiple pieces.

Danny healed fast enough that he needed to worry about his skin growing over straight pieces of metal. So, they needed to come out all in one piece. The porcelain of the sink tinkled quietly as the first staple fell into it. Small dots of green blood landed next to the staple in quiet patters.

It took several long painful minutes to slowly remove all of the remaining metal. When he was on the last few, he had to hold the plastic to his skin so that it wouldn’t swing painfully loose. 

When the last staple finally came out of his face Danny threw the plastic muzzle away as fast as possible.

He ignored the sharp crack as the plastic cut through drywall as he brought his hands up to his face and ran them across his jaw for the first time in months. He disregarded the bright shocks of pain as his fingers ran over the deep puncture wounds and he let his mouth fully drop open.

The bones of his jaw clicked and popped at the unfamiliar movement as he yawned.

Shutting his mouth with a click he bared his fangs at the mirror.

Finally, he had the last physical piece of the GIW off of his body.

His scars were still there.

They would be for a long time.

Now that the muzzle was gone though Danny looked down at his own body thoughtfully; and saw a stranger. He had been in his ghost form since he had been kidnapped by the GIW and the scarring was the only thing that had changed. He had stayed physically the same as when he had first died; his ghostly form apparently incapable of aging; he had been trapped in his fourteen-year-old body.

They had only ever known him as Phantom.

Not that any of the agency’s men had ever called him that.

Not that any of them had ever asked him either.

Instead of a name they had listed some sterile combination of letters and numbers in their system to identify him. No longer human and so no longer deserving of a name or any sort of respect. After everything that had happened did he even have a human form anymore? 

They had cut into him with scalpels that had been coated in something that the Drs. Fenton had invented it to make it possible for them to vivisect the ghosts that they had imprisoned. Danny inhaled deeply as he reached for that other side of himself.

It burned like an overstretched muscle, but he could feel himself ease into his human form. The glowing rings slowly faded away and for a long moment Danny couldn’t force himself to look into the mirror again.

So, he started by taking an inventory of what his body looked like currently.

He was barefoot.

They’d managed to surprise him. His par…The Fenton’s had let them right into his childhood bedroom. He’d only had a couple of moments to try and scramble free of his bedding before the net had landed on him and pinned him to the ground with unnatural weight.

He’d transformed into his Phantom form almost without thought. Desperately trying to faze through the corded metal of the net and being met with electrical shocks. The Fenton’s had figured out how much Phantom had hated electricity. That it was one of the main things that could still hurt him on the mortal plane.

They and the GIW had used it as punishment and containment.

Watched him twitch and scream with vindictive eyes.

While he had writhed in the containment desperately trying to escape, he had vaguely heard the sound of Jazz screaming. He had heard her fists pounding desperately against her own bedroom door.

They must have locked her in.

She had screamed his name.

Thrown her body against the sturdy wood in a futile effort to try and save him.

Phantom had snarled from inside of the net and opened his mouth. He hadn’t known if he was going to bite his attackers or if he could have gathered the breath to wail. He hadn’t been given the opportunity to do anything though.

A long plastic pole had whipped through the holes of the net, and he had felt a needle enter his neck. Whatever had been in the syringe had burned like fire.

Phantom’s cries fell off into a choked silence as he lost consciousness, his blurred vision catching on the glow in the dark stars that his dad had helped him put on the ceiling before fading to black.

Danny shook his head hard.

He shut his eyes tightly; fisted hands coming up to grip his hair as he shook.

He used the sting to try and bring himself back to the present.

He blinked his eyes open, using the heel of his palm to wipe away green tinged tears from his cheeks.

He had time.

Hood’s presence was a distant feeling that felt vaguely like he was asleep, his emotions were evened out into a peaceful purr of indistinct comfort. 

He started again.

Bare feet.

Pajama pants.

Even with the GIW’s dubious care it looked like he had managed to grow at least a bit taller.

The hems of the soft pants were too short.

They barely skimmed the top of his bony ankles.

They used to be some sort of plaid pattern but even buried beneath his ghost form they had been worn thin. Worn so thin he could see the individual threads that abutted against his knees and his hips. The elastic waistband was the only thing keeping the pants on him.

He may have grown taller, but he hadn’t managed to keep any sort of body fat with that growth.

His ribs were a bony ladder that climbed up his sides.

The neat little Y cut that they had made on his chest had healed at least.

The sutures had fallen out at some point and the scar had faded to barely gnarled flesh against his too pale skin.

Danny took in a deep breath before he finally managed to bring his eyes up to the mirror and he stared at his face for an instant before he had to turn away.

Black hair.

Blue eyes.

Sickly pale skin without an ounce of the baby fat that used to fill his cheeks out.

The holes that dotted his face from the staples and the bars through his lips were filling in quickly.

The months in the laboratory seemed to have made his healing even more powerful. His core had turned in on itself somehow. He hadn’t been given the opportunity to defend himself so all of the power at his disposal had focused on keeping him healed enough that he didn’t die permanently.

Shifting back into his ghost form with a quiet sigh of relief Danny let himself relax back into his hazmat suit. He was fully clothed at least, and the baggy material made him look a little bit more substantial than he actually was.

Danny turned away from the mirror without bothering to look again. He let himself lift off of the ground as he turned intangible and phased out into the late afternoon sun of this strange city.

The light of day didn’t lend the city a lot of extra charm, but Danny still let himself swirl in a slow loop at the feeling of freedom.

No friends.

No family.

But also. No enemies.

A fresh start: and if he could steer clear of Hood maybe the other man would let him be.

Danny figured the man had tracked him to the building. It was still well within his haunt, so it made sense to Danny that Hood would be able to find him within its boundaries. The other man had even left him those clippers as a present for him without trying to take away Danny's freedom of choice. Letting him take the muzzle off himself without further argument. This was probably a safe a place as any that he would be able to find with this much ectoplasm just free floating through the cities structure. 

Danny floated with uncertainty in the air for a long moment as he tried to decide what he should do next.

Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs flitted through his thoughts.

He had shelter, shabby as it was.

He could stand to make it a little more comfortable though; like he had thought about the day before. Blankets, some bottled water.

Some…food!

Danny’s head whipped around as his peripheral vision picked out an incongruously brightly colored building.

The name wasn’t familiar, ‘Big Belly Burger’.

But Danny recognized a fast-food restaurant when he saw one.

For a moment he fantasized about walking through the front doors and buying out the menu. Eating his own weight in hamburgers, cheese, and fries. He looked at the doors longingly before he flew around to the back of the squat building.

Not only did he not have any money, but Danny was under no illusions that he wouldn’t cause a stir no matter which way he entered the building. A fanged, green skinned alien or a too skinny boy in barely any clothes.

The police or CPS. were probably on speed dial.

Definitely not an option. 

He wasn’t super surprised that the garbage bins were padlocked but that wasn’t going to stop him. He let his nose lead him towards the dumpster that had food smells coming out of it. The other one was probably just cardboard. He slipped through the plastic without any trouble, and it only took Danny a moment for his eyes to adjust. Once he could see more clearly, he started to sift through the bags that had been carelessly tossed in.

It didn’t take him long to strike gold. The brown paper bag had been crumpled up and he carefully ripped the bag open pulling out a half-eaten cheeseburger and a few French fries. It was all cold at this point, but it couldn’t have been more than a couple of hours old.

The deep rumbling purr of happiness came out of his chest without a conscious thought.

Yum.

Greasy low-quality beef with some plastic adjacent cheese. Neither of them ecto-contaminated so he didn't need to fight them first.

It had been such a long time since he had last eaten that it didn’t take very much before Danny had to put the food down with a sad little chirp. He didn’t want to push too far. Bring all that food right back up just because he didn’t have enough self-control.

The dumpster's confined space was also starting to creep in on him.

Now that the worst of the hunger had been quelled, he could feel his anxiety at the thought of being trapped again rising in his chest. He popped his invisible head out to take a long look around to make sure that no one was waiting for him. No one could see him, but someone might have heard him rustling through the paper and plastic like a particularly large racoon.

The coast seemed clear though, so Danny let the rest of his body rise out of the dumpster as he contemplated his next destination. Food, shelter…water wouldn’t be a bad idea.

Maybe there was a general store nearby that he could steal a couple of cases of water from. He didn’t enjoy the thought of outright stealing from a local business. Food that had been thrown away was one thing; but he didn’t want to cut into the already razor's edge of profitability that those kinds of stores had. Sucking his lower lip into his mouth Danny nibbled on it in thought.

There had to be some plastic bottles that had been discarded.

Maybe if he could find some of those and then a public water fountain that would work. It wasn’t like he actually needed water. It was just something that he would enjoy having, both for drinking and possibly for getting the worst of the blood and muck out of his suit. Mind made up Danny headed out of the parking lot; his eyes raked the ground looking for any bottles that he might be able to scavenge. 

 Jason had to bite back a curse when he picked up the little tracker that had fallen off of Gotham’s newest resident.

I t looked like it had just rolled into the shadow of the old cast iron tub.

Hopefully that was what had happened, and he would actually come back.  None of Oracle’s cameras had been able to pick up when the man had left the building. No doors or windows had opened or closed.

He was thankful to see that the man had at least taken advantage of the wire cutters that he had been given. Though he winced beneath his hood at the scattering of staples that had been left in the decrepit sink. The man had also left the bars that had pierced through his lips in a neat little pile in the living room.

Jason put a couple swabs of greenish blood into an inconspicuous pocket. There was a hole in the wall that had the cracked remnants of the plastic muzzle buried into it. The man was definitely going to notice that it was gone but Jason wanted to get as much information as was possible about whatever had happened to him.

He’d have to brave the Batcave, but it might be worth it to see if there were any answers as to where the man had come from.

His nose wrinkled a little bit when he walked back out into the living room. He had another helmet covering his face but just the memory of that mold smell was enough to make his stomach lurch a little bit. The place was disgusting and dangerous between the bodily fluids and the water damage, but it didn’t seem to bother the meta at all. He also didn’t have a lot of options if the man went to ground somewhere else.

Gotham wasn’t a small city and the man could fly. He could already be halfway across the Atlantic for all Jason knew.

Placing a few inconspicuous bugs throughout the apartment made him feel a little better at least.

He’d be notified about any noises and hopefully be able to figure out how to introduce himself a little less aggressively. 

Because Jason had actually been raised by the World's Greatest Detective and no matter what Dickface said he wasn’t oblivious.

The strange man had calmed the Pit in a way that had never happened before. It had left him able to sleep more peacefully than he had managed in years.

Jason was almost giddy with the feeling of uninterrupted sleep and the fact that his little gift had been accepted.

That left a warm spot in his chest that he barely recognized. He wanted to feel that way again. Wanted to keep finding things that the man would enjoy and be if not trusted as a friend at least accepted.

Jason side-eyed the black mold on the walls. Starting with some bleach maybe. An alert popped up on his UI before he could go much further though.

Red Hood had a meeting with some of his lieutenants in the next half an hour.

He growled a little bit with frustration, but Jason needed to make sure that he kept a firm hand on the people that he employed both as Jason Todd and as Red Hood. He slipped back out of the window and immediately caught sight of a familiar shadow across the street.

Jason sighed heavily before he grappled his way over to the building across the way. He landed quietly on the roof, his boots barely crunched on the crumbling concrete.

Nightwing let his leg drop down from the edge of the building, his arms swung down from their position on his knee as he stood up fully. His head cocked back a little to meet Jason in the eye.

Jason didn’t give him a chance to say anything in the futile hope that he could control the conversation they were about to have.  

“What do you want?”

Jason knew that Dick could hear the growl underpinning his modulated voice by the way his brother arched a single eyebrow at him.

“Fuck off.”

Jason spun on his heel already completely done with the older man.

“Come on, Little Wing. Don’t be like that.”

Hood let out a rumbling snarl when he felt Dick’s hand land on his shoulder. If he had put any force behind it Jason would have shrugged it off and kept going. Instead of the implacable grip that Jason knew the man was fully capable of, he could barely feel the press of fingertips through the heavy weight of his Kevlar. 

He let his muscles relax and dropped his shoulders as he stopped moving. He had hoped that he could put off having a conversation for at least a little while. He should have known better though.

Every single bat and bird in Gotham were going to stick their nose in his business.

Jason should count himself lucky that it was only Nightwing. At least Wing would be less likely to mock his mother-henning tendencies than the others.

Pot, kettle and all that. 

He still couldn’t bring himself to look the other man in the eye though.

“O told me about how the Pit reacted to this guy.”

Dick’s voice was even but Jason could hear the underlying stress of it.

“ Of course she did.”

“B got a file started.”

“Of course he did.”

“The Robins have added some extra surveillance to the street and Red’s working on tracking him when he’s invisible.

“Of course they are.”

“Hood.”

Jason turned around, head still tipped down and away, so he didn’t have to meet Dick’s eyes.

“I don’t know what you want me to say. You know everything I know at this point.”

“I really don’t.”

“Did O show you any footage of him in the apartment?”

Nightwing took the change in subject in stride.

“Yes. Whatever he’s doing with the Lazarus water seemed to help him though. He obviously couldn’t eat regularly with…” Dick waved vaguely at his face. “All this going on. So, it’s good to know that he has some way of getting nutrients.”

Sharp eyes flicked to the side in thought.

“Is it affecting whatever Lazarus water is still in your body?” 

“Sometimes it feels like I’m overflowing. Like the water is going to drown me from the inside out.” Jason’s voice was hoarse as he didn’t quite answer the question. “You’ve seen my eyes.” He stops, struggling to vocalize what he was feeling.

Nightwing waited patiently for Hood to gather his thoughts. His hands stayed relaxed at his side and his face tilted so that he’d be able to hear whatever Jason had to say. No matter how quietly it was muttered.

“It magnifies my emotions. Not just the negative ones.” Jason huffed quietly. “Okay, mostly the negative ones. But still, they’re already overwhelming and it was like it all went quiet. Like the tide went out and I could breathe again.”

“Okay. Well, that’s good to hear. Are you still feeling better?”

Hood didn’t know how to answer that question, so he ignored this one too.

“He needs bleach.”

“What?”

Nightwing’s voice pitched a little bit, but he held steady.

“He needs cleaning supplies. That apartment is covered with mold.”

“Okay.”

“And blankets. Everybody likes blankets.”

“Right.”

Hood’s voice was strained and even with the modulator he was sure that Dick could hear how panicked he felt.

“What do you give a probably alien as a housewarming gift?”

“Hood.”

“What if he doesn’t like the clippers, I gave him?”

“Hood!”

“I know he used them but what other option did he have?”

“ HOOD!!”

“What!?!”

“How about a gift basket?”

“What?” Jason’s racing thoughts skidded to a halt.

“A gift basket.”

Dick held his hands out to slowly spin Jason around so that he could look up into his little brother’s eyes.

“Nothing too extravagant. B and Penny-One are out for this current mission.”

Jason felt his eyes widen as he contemplated the atrocities that could be committed by two older men with too much money on their hands and absolutely no idea how non-billionaires lived their lives day to day.

“No. B’s going to want to buy the building, isn't he?”

Nightwing grimaced a little bit, looking away and running his hands through his hair.

Jason’s voice goes even more monotone.

“B has already bought this building, hasn’t he?”

Holding up his hands in a placating motion Nightwing shook his head no.

“Then, who? Wait. No.”

“Yeah, I’m afraid that…”

“Why would the Replacement buy a random apartment building in my part of the city?

“Little Wing.” Nightwing's voice is calm but firm with warning.

“Fine.” Jason snarls. “What the fuck does Red Robin want with this particular little hellhole?”

“I think he was hoping it might be a nice enough Christmas gift that you wouldn’t give him any more humiliating presents”

Jason barked out a sharp laugh. “Fat-fucking chance. R squared didn’t like the Play Bunny mags I got him? Time to up the game then and see if I can’t find any of the really niche stuff. I’m thinking of the Gay Kama Sutra. Hardcover of course.  Add a couple of close comfort condoms so that he and his boyfriend can play it safe.”

Dick finally let the stoicism drop from his face and he had to turn his head away a little so that Jason wouldn’t see the smile that was creeping across his face.

“Listen man it’s getting late enough that I need to head out, but we could meet tomorrow at Bed, Bat, and Beyond. Get some reasonably priced blankets, towels, any sort of cleaning supplies you think he’ll need.”

“Fine.” Hood grunted as he grabbed his grappling gun.

“I’ve got a meeting soon and then I’ll need to sleep for a couple of hours. Let’s say noon, tomorrow.”

Nightwing leaned forward, his hands were placed on both of Jason’s shoulders as he gently knocked their foreheads together.

“With any luck; we can get him a little more acclimated to Gotham before B shows up trying to adopt him.

“He has to be in his twenties at least.” 

“I don’t think that would really stop him.”

Red Hood couldn’t help but chuckle himself as watched Nightwing backflip off of the building, waiting a concerning amount of time before setting off his grappling gun. Just so he could get the biggest arc possible to spin and kick through the night.

“Show pony.”

Jason gave one last glance at the building. He hadn’t noticed any changes and there wasn’t anything else that he could really do tonight to help the man.

He needed to get his head in the game and figure out which one of his Lieutenants was fucking around on him.

There had been an increase in the quantity and decrease in the quality of the drugs they were importing.

Red Hood stepped up to the edge of the roof and tipped off backwards without pulling his own grappling gun at all. He let himself free fall for several stories before he landed on a particularly sturdy piece of fire escape, and then to the ground.

He had been very clear about what was and wasn’t allowed in his city as far as the drug trade went. It seemed like someone was either cutting his purity or adding unknown shit into it to increase their profits.

Striding off into the dark Jason fingered the handles of one of his guns.

It would be interesting to see where this investigation would lead him. 

[hai7ani]

thoughts on dating tenjiku!rindou but breaking up with him and seeing him again when he is in bonten? IM THINKING ABOUT THIS 24/7

Dude same. Its constantly in my head circling round and round and then i remember i have something similar posted: where this flower blooms 😀 its an au (still wip) tho so not rlly tenjiku and bonten universe but they break up and meet again when they're adults and there's kids involved 🧍🏻‍♀️

But to answer ur question: he'd be so heartbroken and petty. You asked him once before if he'd be happy seeing you happy if you ever one day break up, and he blatantly said no. You've always questioned why until he finally tells u that he doesn't wanna see u happy after breaking up bc he only wants u for himself 一 that's how much he loves you. He can't stand the thought of seeing you happy with another person, and he told you that honestly.

But fast forward to today, you're dating this guy who's been treating u really nice and you think you can see a future with him. He's great with the money, he works as a lawyer, he's got a house and a car 一 he's everything you can ever hope for in a bachelor. But it scares you that you've not even taken a long time in the dating process and he's already on one knee proposing to you in the middle of a high-end restaurant and you are so shy. People are clapping and you can see the bartenders already preparing to pop a champagne for the two of you as a congratulations.

You want to say no. It's still so soon, you haven't processed any of it enough yet, he still seems so foreign despite being such an eligible man who's been doing nothing but treating you nice and kind. There's just something that you can't find in him, that you have been searching in him. Perhaps it's the warmth or the look that he gives you that just doesn't feel right enough. You want more.

You're lost in thought and suddenly someone passes behind you and says very, very lowly. His voice is lazy when he speaks. His cologne is rich and expensive. "Better not keep him waiting, pretty." And you recognise it all.

He stands behind your boyfriend (?) and smirks. He pretends like he is part of the crowd when it's obvious he isn't when the bartenders hurriedly move forward and getting ready to pop the champagne with just a motion of his finger.

God damn it.

"I don't wanna see you happy without me."

[thforgottcn]

✧ daithi doesn't want awkwardness between them just because viveka is around . he didn't want the other to brush off the fact that in the moment , he still cared for him and wanted to be around him . of course , if it was better for elio to not have pda around viveka , he's oblige , but for now , he rather show him it was okay . having a significant other that didn't mind the affection showed to another partner helped , viveka was , however , going to get the same treatment unless elio spoke up about being uncomfortable - if he decided he preferred him to not around him , he'd be limited in displays of affection towards her around him . ' i don't know , ' he teases softly now . ' lot of walking and public transportation across the water . ' daithi's tone soft while he jokes in return .

♡︎ the stammering was sweet , causing viveka's nose to crinkle up just a little as she glances over him . daithi wasn't lying that he was a looker and for him to be incredibly sweet , too ? she thinks he's won the lottery in the aspect - she had the same thought when she'd settled into a relationship with daithi himself . ' so i guess , we're lucky , ' she laughs out quietly . ' you're just really nice , you know ? someone dating a person can say their significant other is nice .. but they actually aren't . it's nice seeing him happy with someone else , too . sorry if this is blunt , or a lot .. ' she's in pain , distraction was more important for her in the moment , even though it doesn't take long to make it to the hospital . she thinks it's adorable that he went for parking to follow daithi instead of the emergency room entrance but she doesn't speak up on it since her door swings open .

✧ daithi pulls into the parking lot and finds a spot for the bike , thankful it doesn't seem slammed with people . since elio followed him over he pops the door open for the back , smiling at viveka in hopes to keep her lighthearted at least . ' i'm going to run and grab a wheelchair , can you help her out so she can sit once i'm back ? he asks elio as he slides the helmet down into the passanger seat for now . he doesn't hesitate going to the front to get a wheel chair , returning shortly after with one and popping the locks on the wheels .

"No problem," Elio can't help but be stunned for a few seconds after he feels the soft peck on his cheek. He hadn't expected him to do so in front of Viveka. But since he requested a moment alone with her he quickly shook it off and walked over to the other side of the car lingering a bit before opening the door. This all seemed to come easily to Daithi and she didn't seem to mind or if she did she didn't show it. There was a little spark of hope that grew a little inside of him but he didn't yet dare to think of it. They had only just met and an emergency was not ideal to get to know someone new. Despite his hope, it still felt weird to accidentally catch Daithi looking with concern at Viveka and kissing her on her forehead. It made him feel odd and a tad jealous. Even if Daithi was now heading his way again to show him work his car and giving him a look that was just as full of care.

"Yeah I'll be okay don't worry. I have driven a car before you know. Just not one as big as this." He reassures him with a smile and he feels himself melt into the gentle kiss, despite knowing that she looking. Was that weird? Or was he just making it weird by thinking about it too much? Probably the latter since she didn't seem to mind. "Don't mention it. I'm not the type of person to ignore someone in need."

He briefly watches Daithi with the motorcycle which seems like second nature to him. It looked hot. There was no time to think about that now though he had to file it away for later. Just when he's about to start the car Viveka speaks and he feels his cheeks turn red. "I… Thank you." He stammers, "You're lucky too." After all, she had been lucky enough to meet him first and she undoubtedly knew him better than anyone else.

He starts the engine and after a bit of fiddling he manages to turn the car and starts following Daithi into the traffic. It requires more effort to pay attention to the road with a vehicle this big. He isn't used to taking up this much space while driving, so he just leaves more room behind Daithi and any other cars he comes across just in case. They arrived at their destination and after some manoeuvring, he managed to park the car.

[aromanticasterisms]

this whole epilogue is just a little treat for me oh my god. "familiar faces arrive in simulanka" does not even begin to cover it

[screechingfromthevoid]

So I was thinking about that modern AU, trying to figure out how to incorporate FCG because robot (literally he's just a pastors son. Duh)

but for some reason my brain said "Ashton's service dog" first. Then I thought about Ashton needing a service dog because of brain stuff. THEN I thought about Ashton needing a service animal AND a mobility aid.

So I'm just living for Ashton in a wheelchair rolling through school. They've got the key to the elevator. They've obviously got a whole dog at school that people try desperately not to pet.

When someone decides to bully FCG (Francis Charles Grady) or Laudna, they get out of their chair to their full height. People freak because they didn't know he could walk or stand. Ashton just shrugs because "you know what they say about assuming"

And when Dorian shows up and asks about it not as tactfully as he probably meant to Ashton pops a wheely and is just like "what's sadder than an orphan with a wheelchair and a service dog? Unfortunately it didn't get me adopted. People just don't want their inspiration porn in house anymore I guess."

And they try to be chill. They try to avoid those harsh topics with their friends because they don't wanna be a bummer. It'd bring down the mood to say "sure I can walk but sometimes my spine is on fire and my calves are full of knives so I don't." It'd suck to say "I can walk fine until I can't." It's not relatable to say "my whole body hurts all the time and if I want to be able to do other things like think, I should probably be sitting."

Slowly their friends get them to understand that they don't have to put on a brave face for them. They don't have to pretend like it doesn't hurt. They don't have to pretend like it doesn't bother them. Their friends care about them. Hell they're even down to help if they can. Anything to make Ashton feel like they are wanted, that they're not a burden.

[babeygirlbuckley]

kinda tired of all these parent redemption arcs tbh. give chimney a gun

[petrichorium]

Making this it’s own post bc I rlly have thought abt it so much Kuroo’s dad has a beard and he tries to emulate it in college but when it comes in patchy and bad he shaves it off but does the classic “can’t grow a beard but here’s this stupid mustache” for like two years until he starts actually working and realizes how dumb it makes him look so he shaves it too

[deeisace]

aw damn it

[dirt-str1der]

I literally had a dream about reading the worst fan fiction like fucking ever kiryu was just randomly a yandere and nishiki was trying his best to survive also kiryu turned into a dragon (deez nuts) halfway and let nishiki kill him for being a bad boy but he was so upset about having to kill his bro that he just lay in the corpse for a bit and thats when i decided to stop reading and i literally opened tumblr in my dream to complain about how bad it was like the writing went back and forth from being terrible to incredible and i found myself enjoying some parts and despising others. I skipped the first few chapters so i had to tab back out and read the summary like why are they in a beach resort and the summary didnt just tell me nothing but it was also double spaced between each line and very fucking irritating and while reading it i kept thinking this is extremely ooc and boring like they would not fucking say that

[icantalk710]

📱😪

[euthymiya]

“Did you know—”

“I don’t care,” Sukuna interrupts, wholly disinterested. It’s half past three—(which is, of course, his fault, but that doesn’t mean he’s any less tired).

But you, wholly uncaring, promptly ignore him. “—That some female spiders eat the male ones after mating?”

“What do you want me to do with this information?” He looks at you irritably, glaring at you from the corner of his eyes. You flash him a grin—it’s a mischievous little thing, your lips curled in a cheeky, flirty way that warns him silently that he’s about to risk popping another vein. He seems to do that around you quite often, and it certainly feels like it’s underway once more.

(And, as it always is, his intuition would be right).

“It’s a warning,” you hum.

He snorts, raising a clearly disbelieving brow as he hums, “oh yeah? For what? Are you gonna—wha-hey!”

Not a lot catches Sukuna off guard. You giggle as he barks out a surprised yelp of your name, harshly shoving you away from his chest. There’s a nice, fresh, very crystal and very clear outline of your teeth marked right on the flesh surrounding his nipple.

He looks at you like you’ve lost your mind.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He asks incredulously.

You let out a soft, amused little giggle that sounds through the room before he feels your weight shift and fall onto him, making him grunt as his arms steady you and his eyes stare up at your hovering face with an agitated purse of his lips.

“I’m eating you,” you say cheekily, “see?” For emphasis, you leave an equally as shocking bite to his bicep, your head leaning down to get a mouthful of his bare arm. He lets out a low, startled grunt before one large and very firm hand grabs the back of your neck and yanks you off.

“Have you completely lost it?” He hisses.

“We just mated—”

“Who on Earth talks about sex like that? We are not animals who—”

“—And now I’m going to eat you after mating. Like a female spider.”

“If you’re going to be weird, just go the fuck to sleep,” he grumbles lowly.

Sukuna is tired.

(And yes, the reason is partly because he’s a bit inexhaustible once he’s felt the velvet heat of your walls, and yes, it’s technically his own greediness that’s worn him out so physically for the night. But that’s all been the cost for something of greater benefit to him. Something he doesn’t exactly mind draining his energy for.

Bur your odd, unsettling, abnormal and very plainly weird schemes are not a part of the list of things he’s willing to sacrifice his energy for. There isn’t much pleasure in entertaining your nonsense most of the time.

If anything, there’s pain—the stinging bite marks on his skin can attest to that.)

“I’m not tired,” you hum.

“Then let me make you tired,” he offers smugly, lips tugging into a cocky grin as he looks up at you.

“If you didn’t manage that the first time, what makes you think that’ll work the second?” You tease.

He doesn’t seem to like that very much, because with a growl, he pushes the back of your neck until your face falls into the crook of his neck, a strong, bulky arm wrapping around your waist and keeping you in place against his body.

It’d be awfully intimate, and awfully sweet if he didn’t mumble, “I love when you sleep because it’s the only few hours of the day I get to hear you shut the fuck up.”

“Maybe if you’d just appreciated my fun fact—”

“You bit my fucking nipple.”

“I could bite the other one, too, if you want,” you pipe up with an excited grin. He can feel it pressed against his skin as your face buries deeper into the space between his neck and shoulder.

Sukuna is tired. Most of the time, it’s because of you. All of the time, he chooses to allow it because he likes having you around for a good fuck.

(And, of course, there’s all that bullshit about love and affection, too. But that’s just that odd stuff you like to babble about—that odd, unsettling, abnormal and very plainly weird emotional part of you that somehow ropes him into being the same way every once in a while.

He doesn’t like it.)

“You need a lobotomy,” he mutters, wincing when you bite the skin of his neck in response. Not in a manner he likes, either—very much in a manner that makes sure he feels the sharpness of your incisors.

“Don’t be rude,” you scold, “I’m biologically meant to be your predator.”

“You biologically give me fuckin’ migraines.”

You grin—it’s a smile that’s easy. Smooth. Maybe a little giddy, too. It comes out only around Sukuna. Him and his gruff, rugged way of accepting your affection, and his double as rough and crude way of giving it back. His callused hands and toughened knuckles that brush along your cheeks carefully. His crass and undignified words that are carefully thought out enough to never cross the line. His downturned lips and narrowed eyes that only ever soften at the sharp corners around you.

“Next time, I’ll eat you for sure,” you murmur, settling against his chest and getting comfortable. He wraps both arms around you, warm and tight enough that you almost think you can forgo the blanket altogether. “Assert my dominance.”

“You can’t even open the pickle jar.”

“That’s different.”

“It’s only a matter of time until natural selection gets you,” he snickers quietly. You huff, biting back a smile as he yawns.

Gently, with a kiss over the bite mark you left against his neck, you say softly, “goodnight. Love you.”

“Night.”

“I love you.”

“For the love of—love you too, holy fuck. Go to sleep.”

[kavehater]

“But my luck is so horrible so I had to pull thirty times just to get him” GIRL thirty pulls is actually nothing wdym 😭 me with 65 pulls until I got my first kaveh is crazier ☠️

[lilithland]

imagine you live in a really small farm town, with absolutely nothing to do, the only thing to do in such a small town is to drink and fuck

so that’s exactly what you all do, one of your friends has a giant farm, with a barn that’s pretty empty with nothing but hay

it’s saturday night and you’re halfway to wasted on some homemade moonshine

the girls at the barn all wear some variation of jean shorts so short that their booty cheeks hang out, cropped flannel shirts tied in a way where their tits are also exposed, and cowboy boots

you’ve opted to ditch your normal cowboy hat for some braided pigtails instead

“i think it’s time to play some musical chairs” someone slurs behind you

the barn erupts in a roar of cheers, everyone hooting and hollering

you chug the rest of your moonshine, ready to fuck your neighbors and friends

everyone around you starts to get ready, some of the girls start pinching their nipples and pulling their tits out more, some opting to ditch their shirts all together, you see one girl’s hands sneak inside her shorts

you hike your shorts up a bit more so your ass hangs out more, you also choose to undo the button at the top, flashing the skin just above your leaky hole

you also untie your top, the scraps of your shirts hanging down to just cover your nipples, the rest of your body is on full and clear display

while you and the other sluts get ready, the guys have taken their seats around the circle, all of them stroking themselves to get their cocks nice and long and erect

someone starts the music and the girls begin to circle the men, the round officially started

the first round is always blow jobs, the first guy to breed a bitches throat is out, but that pair can fuck however the man wants while the rest of the game plays out

the music stops and you rush forward to the man in front of you

you drop to your knees, not even bothering to look at who you’re about to give head to

the dick in front of you is luckily not the biggest in the group or the smallest

the small ones tend to finish fast and the big one would’ve been too much to start off with

you lick a long stripe up the underside of the cock in front of you, you look up and make eye contact while you swirl your tongue around the tip

it’s your sister’s boyfriend, he groans and puts his hands on the back of your head

he lets you stay in control for now, both of you not wanting to be out on the first round, but the pressure at the back of your head reminds you who really is in control

you pop his tip into your mouth before quickly removing your mouth, you spit on his cock before using both hands to spread your spit up and down his full length

you make eye contact again as you take him into your mouth once more

“hands up” he commands, a little confused you raise both hands above your heads, he uses one hand to hold both of your wrists together, his other keeping a firm hold on your head

“just your mouth, slut”

you continue to suck him off, relaxing your throat so you can get his whole length into your mouth, you keep reminding yourself to breathe through your nose

you start to gag a little as he fucks your pretty face, tears and saliva starting to overflow, before he really starts to treat you like the whore you are, you hear a loud moan to your right and the round is over

the cock from your mouth is removed, but before you can get off your knees, he squeezes your mouth open and spits into it and forces you to swallow

“good girl”

some girls start to remove their bottoms, you included, the next few rounds are all in the pussy, or the ass if the man decides to switch it up

round after round you play, managing to just barely stay in the game, riding dick isn’t your favorite but you’ve cum twice already

some men play with your clit, some grope and abuse your tits, some finger your butt while pounding into you

the more you play, the more you fuck, the hornier you get

you make it to the final round, your personal favorite

instead of the cunts circling the men, the two fuckdolls left in the game get on all fours and get blindfolded

the men circle the girls and when the music stops the first girl to squirt wins the game

by this point you’re naked, your girl cum and girl juice leaking out of you and dripping down your thighs

you get blindfolded and assume position, a bitch ready for her mounting, the music starts and you wiggle your butt in excitement

the music stops and before you have time to process anything you feel fingers in your breeding hole

you’re confused as to why you weren’t immediately stuffed with cock, you moan none the less as you get a rough finger fucking

there’s three fingers in you moving at a brutal place, a second hand snakes around your front, rubbing your clit expertly

your tongue is hanging out and you’re a drooling, moaning mess

a fourth finger is roughly added and you scream in pleasure and pain, still overstimulated from the prior rounds, you rapidly approach climax

just before you’re able to finish the fingers are ripped out from you and the delicious pressure on your clit is taken away

you scream in frustration, your orgasm ruined

before you can even start begging to be filled you feel the biggest dick you’ve ever felt in your life poking at your fuckhole

you almost cum from that alone

hands are gripping into your hips so hard they’ll leave bruises, it takes some effort and it feels like the dick being stuffed inside of you is never ending

eventually whoever is behind you bottoms out

giving you no time to adjust, they pull out all the way before slamming back in, you’re roughly fucked and split open on the monster cock behind you

you can’t do anything except simply take the fucking you’ve been given like a good bimbo slut, you feel like you’re going to be split in half, your insides are on fire, but you don’t want it to stop

one hand leaves your hips and finds purchase around your throat, the pressure of being lightly choked bringing you pure ecstasy

his other hand pinches, gropes, and slaps all over your used body

you’re readjusted and the new angle allows for the man behind you to fuck you deeper and right in a spot you didn’t even know exsisted inside of you

his roaming hand ends up on your clit again, rubbing hard and fast, a little more pressure is added to your throat, a bite on your neck sends you over the edge and you cum harder than you’ve ever cum before

as you’re forced to ride out one of the best orgasms of your life, you feel hot, thick ropes of cum fill your walls

you momentarily black out from the insanely erotic feeling, when you come to you’re still being pumped in and out of

you’re declared the winner of the night, along with the man who still has not stopped breeding your fuck hole