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littlexdeaths · 2 months

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scotty doesn’t know - e.m. iii.

eddie munson x fem reader

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: cheating, lil sprinkle of angst, shitty (ex) boyfriend behavior, some major fucking CHEESE (sorry if ur lactose intolerant), reader is the ultimate tease, dom!eddie, light bondage, degradation kink, oral (m receiving), ass/pussy spanking, multiple orgasms, unprotected piv sex, cream pie

series masterlist

based on scotty doesn’t know by lustra

a/n: honestly about to dedicate my entire life and blog to @strangerstilinski because i couldn’t have gotten this one done without her help. also thank you everyone who has been so incredibly patient with me, i hope you enjoy xx.

word count: 8.2k

The weekend had come and gone way too fast.

And now Monday was staring you right in the face, and with it— a very important decision.

You spent the rest of your weekend with Eddie, cuddling, talking and just enjoying each other's company. For those two days you were in your own little world together and you honestly never wanted it to end. But realistically you knew you had to go home and return back to your reality.

A reality where you belonged to someone else.

Your parents were absolutely livid by the time you returned home late Sunday evening, getting the biggest lecture of your life after Eddie had dropped you off. To add fuel to the fire, Scott had been calling your house nonstop since Saturday morning, much to your parents' annoyance. But that was a conversation you weren’t ready to have just yet.

Especially not over the phone.

You tossed and turned all night, desperately trying to figure out what you were going to say to him.

Monday was going to be rough, you knew that. But the thought of being able to finally show everyone who your heart really belonged to made things a little easier. You hadn’t exactly let Eddie know of your plans to dump your boyfriend the following day but he could tell something was up.

From the way you kissed him goodbye in his van, right out in the open for anyone to see, including your parents. And the look you gave him as you glanced over your shoulder before continuing up your driveway. It gave him a spark of hope that maybe this wasn’t just a silly fling to you either.

You got ready that morning with shaky hands, tucking one of Eddie’s band tees into your Levi’s. The male had let you wear it home the previous day, mostly because he enjoyed the sight of you in his clothes a little too much. You fiddle with the belt loop of your jeans as you stare at your reflection.

A mixture of nerves and excitement swirled in your belly as you took in your appearance, smoothing your sweaty palms over your thighs.

You can do this.

You take one final look before grabbing your backpack and bound down the stairs with a newfound pep in your step. You can’t help the goofy smile from spreading across your face as you think of seeing Eddie, and it makes all this seem a little easier. You all but ignore the curious looks from your parents as you bolt out the front door.

They hadn’t seen you this happy in months.

But as you drive to school, those pesky nerves begin to creep back in as you pass Scott’s jeep. You will your heart rate to slow as you search for a parking spot. A sense of relief fills your chest when you notice one just a few spots down from a very particular van. Your hands shake as you pull the key from the ignition, taking a moment to collect yourself before you head inside.

You try to ignore the curious eyes of your peers as you enter the school, knowing the events of the previous Friday were still fresh in their minds. And you reach your locker without incident, quickly yanking it open to put away your textbooks. You keep your head down as you walk to your first class, part of you was just waiting for Scott to sneak up on you.

Oddly enough you hadn’t seen him or Eddie all morning, which was extremely unusual. By now Scott would've walked you to first class and you’d be spending your second period study hall with Eddie. So seeing neither of them had your mind racing, and your anxiety spiking.

Had Scott figured it out? Did he confront Eddie?

A pit begins to form in your stomach at the thought, and you don’t think you could ever forgive yourself if Eddie was hurt because of you. You’re so wrapped up in your own head that you don’t notice someone beginning to approach you. A look of determination on their face.

“I need to talk to you.”

The voice startles you, panic rises in your throat as your eyes lift. You are expecting to meet Scott’s icy glare, or the warmth of Eddie’s gaze. But instead, you are met with the soft but stern cerulean of Dustin Henderson.

“Me?” you ask softly, glancing around you before back at the younger male.

“Yes you,” he huffs in annoyance.

“What could you possibly need to talk to me about?” you keep your tone hushed as he takes the empty chair across from you.

“I know you think you’re fooling everyone, but you aren’t fooling me.”

You’re stunned into silence for a moment, fingers gripping the arm of the chair as he raises a brow at you.

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t bullshit me, I know you’re sneaking around with Eddie,” he snaps.

Your heart leaps into your throat, mouth drying as Dustin continues to glower at you. A sting of betrayal suddenly fills your chest, and you feel foolish for even thinking Eddie would actually keep this secret between you.

But maybe he was just like Scott, who loved to brag about his sexual conquests to all his friends.

“He wasn’t supposed to tell—”

“He didn’t.” Dustin cuts you off, taking off his hat to run a frustrated hand through his hair. “I’m just not blind.”

You both sit in silence for a moment then, feeling even more confused than you were when he initially sat down.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

Dustin sighs, folding his hands together before he meets your gaze again.

“Eddie doesn’t know I'm here right now and honestly, he’d probably kill me if he did know.” The male winces slightly, before he continues. “But I am through with sitting around and watching one of my best friend’s hearts get stomped on.”

“Dustin, that’s not—”

He holds up his hand to cut you off, shaking his head.

“Just let me finish.”

So you hold your tongue, despite wanting to tell this kid that he has it all wrong.

“Eddie’s a good guy, one of the best I've ever known. And over the past couple of months we’ve all seen a change in him, he’s happier.”

That thought warmed your heart.

“But I can also see how all this is weighing on him. You may not notice it, but it’s definitely there.”

A lump has formed in your throat, watching in silence as the younger boy stands and slings his backpack over his shoulder. He glances at you once more, that look of disdain still written across his features.

“Now I know I can’t tell you what to do, but Eddie doesn’t deserve to be someone’s secret.”

And without a glance back in your direction, you’re alone again.

Fourth period.

The moment you’ve been waiting for and simultaneously dreading since Sunday evening. It was the only class you shared with Scott, and while you’d been able to avoid him most of the day— it was time to face the music.

When you step into the classroom, he is already seated in his usual spot in the back corner of the room. The empty desk beside him is practically calling your name.

But your whole body freezes when his eyes meet yours expectantly. And as he begins to wave you over, you make a beeline to the opposite side of the classroom. You keep your eyes low as you find an empty seat, chewing nervously on your lower lip.

When you flip open your notebook, you hear the familiar squeak of sneakers in front of you. Your eyes slowly lift to reveal the hardened features of your boyfriend. His jaw is set in a grimace, and he rests his knuckles harshly on the front of your desk.

“Babe, we need to talk.”

But before you have the chance to reply, Mrs. Jones enters the classroom in a flurry. The bell rings immediately after, signaling the start of class. And it’s hard to tell whether the abrupt noise or his harsh glare causes you to flinch in your seat. She claps her hands to attention then, but Scott still doesn’t move.

“Mr. McGuire, take your seat now.”

He merely scoffs before he stalks away, returning to his own seat. Feeling defeated, you slump down in your chair. Any confidence you’d had this morning seemed to dissolve under his angry gaze. The rest of the class period goes by in a daze, as you can’t seem to focus on anything besides the daggers that Scott has been throwing your way the entire hour.

Once the final bell rings, you shoot up from your seat so fast you nearly take a couple other students in your rush. You practically sprint to your locker, hoping to make it to the lunchroom before Scott can corner you.

But you underestimated his speed, especially when he was sober.

His hand suddenly slams your locker door shut, and he backs you into the cool metal. He leans his palm against the line of lockers, closing you in completely. There was no way you could escape him now.

“What is going on with you? Why are you being such a frigid bitch?” he seethes.

You can’t help but wince at the insult, shrinking under his increasingly angry gaze. People were beginning to stare, causing more nerves to twist in your gut. This was a much more interesting sight than anything the cafeteria had to offer. And while you hated the attention, you knew you had to do this.

Just like ripping off a bandaid.

“I want to break up.”

He clearly wasn’t expecting that, confusion quickly replacing the anger on his features. You let out the sigh you didn’t realize you were holding, relief filling your chest as you finally spoke the words aloud.

Scott runs a hand through his dark locks, pulling away from you ever so slightly.

“You want to break up?” his voice raises, “Why? Is this about that stupid fucking party?”

You knew it wouldn’t be that easy, he wouldn’t just agree and walk away. While you had tried to prepare yourself for what you wanted to say all night, your brain was struggling to string any words together.

You rub your temples, trying to prolong the inevitable but the male could only take your silence for so long.

“Well?!” he shouts.

You take a shaky breath as you square your shoulders, attempting to feign some kind of confidence. Dustin’s words from earlier echoing in your ears. He doesn’t deserve to be someone’s secret. The sea of students had only begun to grow in the past few minutes but you don’t notice that Eddie was amongst them.

“I don’t love you, and quite frankly I don’t think I ever did.”

You could hear a pin drop.

“You're an arrogant, selfish prick. And honestly, I just can’t keep doing this anymore…” you pause, now meeting his stormy eyes.

“Especially when my heart belongs to someone else.”

If you thought Scott was angry before, you hadn’t seen anything yet.

His hand suddenly slams into the locker next to your head, causing you to shrink instantly. While he’s never been violent towards you before, you aren’t entirely surprised by it. It was just in his nature.

“So you cheated on me? Is that what you’re saying?”

Before you can get another word in, you hear the familiar clearing of a throat. And a ringed hand reaches out to harshly tug the male away from you.

“You just don’t learn do you, Scotty?”

Eddie is beyond fuming as he shoves Scott back into the lockers before the male can properly react. And while Scott wasn’t the smartest guy, he quickly seemed to put two and two together.

He looked between you and Eddie before he started laughing.

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Munson? You’re fucking the freak?”

You instantly turn on defense mode, entirely fed up with his treatment of him. Before you can stop yourself, you copy Eddie’s actions and shove Scott back into the lockers. Surprise crosses both of the males' features at your actions, knowing you were never a violent or angry person.

But everyone has their limits and you’ve just hit yours.

“Yeah, and he fucks me so well too. Eddie here actually knows how to make a girl come— but I can’t say the same for you, McGuire.”

An astounding ‘oooh’ resonates through the crowd at your words.

Scott’s cheeks are flushed from a mixture of embarrassment and anger. No one has ever stood up to him like this before and he’s suddenly at a loss for words. Eddie is grinning like a mad man, clapping excitedly before he wraps his arms around your waist. You welcome his embrace, leaning back further against his chest.

Scott just stares at the two of you, gritting his teeth as you smile sweetly.

“Now, I think we’re done here. Let’s go, Eddie.”

The metalhead willingly lets you drag him away, only your destination wasn’t the cafeteria anymore.

You pull him into the nearest empty hallway, shoving him up against the wall and locking your lips together. Eddie eagerly accepts your advances, fingers lacing through the loop of your jeans to keep you pressed against him.

Adrenaline is pumping through your veins, making every touch of his skin feel like a live wire.

“Munson!”

You curse softly as you realize you’ve been caught, and quickly glance over your shoulder.

Mr. Mundy looks between the two of you with a deep sigh, “Now come on, you know the rules. Break it up or you’re both getting detention.”

You unwillingly pull yourself away from him and lean against the brick wall beside him. A glance out of the corner of your eye shows how the male is biting back a grin.

“Try not to infect your girlfriend with your delinquency, alright?” Mr. Mundy gives you both a disgruntled look before heading back into his classroom.

Once the door shuts behind him, Eddie lets out a soft chuckle and coaxes you back into his arms.

“Y’hear that? Girlfriend,” he teases, wiggling his brows but the title makes your stomach flutter nonetheless. “Didn’t even ask me out on a proper date though, sweetheart. I’m offended.”

He laughs as you playfully pinch his side, shaking your head fondly. You lean your forehead against his chest, letting yourself indulge in the scent of his cologne.

“Did you really mean what you said back there?” he says after a while.

The sudden change of tone has you lifting your head, gazing up at him curiously. Eddie pulls you in even closer, letting his hands rest on the curve of your waist.

“That your heart belongs to me?” he prods.

You look down at your feet shyly, not realizing that he had heard that part of the conversation. Eddie doesn’t let your gaze wander for long though, as he gently tips your head back up to meet his.

“Yes, I meant it,” your voice shakes, your nerves getting the best of you.

But the look that flits over his features has your heart skipping a beat and butterflies erupting in your belly.

“All mine?” he questions, nervously licking his lips as he awaits your answer.

“All yours, Eddie.”

Being Eddie Munson’s official girlfriend is more than anything you could’ve dreamt about.

While sneaking around with him was fun in the moment, the amount he wanted to show you off made your heart sing. You had never felt so wanted or taken care of in your entire life.

But it wasn’t always easy, as graduation continued to grow closer the two of you barely had any alone time together. Between Hellfire, band practice and constant cramming for finals— time was not on your side.

But busy schedules be damned, you both manage to carve out enough time for a date at Benny’s.

“The usual, kids?”

Benny calls from the kitchen with a grin as you both take a seat in your normal booth. The diner had quickly become your favorite place for date nights, in your opinion they had the best food in town. Despite Eddie’s futile attempts to take you to Enzo’s, you prefer the easy going atmosphere of the small diner much more.

“Nah, just two chocolate milkshakes and an order of fries. We only got a few minutes before this one abandons me for prom shit with Wheeler,” Eddie teases.

You can’t help but pout, nudging his foot under the table.

“Says the one who abandoned me for movie night with Henderson yesterday.”

What you aren’t aware of though is how Dustin was actually helping Eddie pick out a tux and tie for prom. Laughing hysterically as the older boy panicked over what color tie would match perfectly with your dress.

Benny watches you both playfully bicker back and forth, shaking his head fondly. He brings out your order a few minutes later and unable to contain your excitement any further, you grab a fry and dip it directly into your milkshake.

Eddie’s lips freeze around the straw, gazing at you in absolute bewilderment when he pretends to gag.

“Sweetheart, that’s disgusting.”

You roll your eyes at his theatrics, taking a bite out of the fry before dipping it back in.

“You really shouldn’t knock it till you try it, Ed,” you say in a sing-song tone as your boyfriend urgently pulls the basket of fries away from you.

“Yeah— no way. I’m not doing that, you’re pretty sick in the head, baby,” he muses between bites of a plain fry. “Shit… and people call me a freak?”

You stifle a giggle as you lean forward, stealing the half eaten fry from between his fingers. You dunk it back into your milkshake and pop it in your mouth with a soft but exaggerated moan.

Eddie shifts slightly in his seat, his cheeks flushing a light shade of pink. It was almost too easy to get him so worked up. You ignore the warning look he shoots your way as you reach for another fry.

“Come on, just try it.”

You scoop as much of the shake onto the fry as possible, holding it towards him. The male just shakes his head, leaning back against the cracked leather of the booth.

“You know, I don’t know if this is gonna work out between us, doll face,” he chuckles, watching as the chocolate cream begins to drip down your fingers.

His petulance continues but you’re still trying to goad him into taking a bite, dangling it in front of his scrunched nose, inching closer and closer. All in an effort to tempt him. You watch patiently, waiting for the perfect opportunity to slip it between his pouty lips.

“This level of blasphemy might be crossing a line, even for me—”

Before he can finish his thought, there’s lukewarm milkshake and salt smeared across his cheek and the corner of his mouth.

Eddie sits in shock for a moment before you burst into a fit of giggles at his expression.

“Oh, you are asking for it now, baby,” he taunts.

You are unprepared as he dips two of his fingers into his own glass, reaching forward to smear the sticky chocolate across your cheek. You gasp when the male leans forward, mischief sparkling in his eyes. His tongue darts out, causing a loud squeal to escape you as he licks the milkshake from your cheek.

“Eddie, that’s gross,” you whine as you reach out to steady the glass before he dumps milkshake everywhere.

“Hm, you didn’t seem to find it that gross when it was buried inside your—”

You toss a fry at him before he can finish that sentence, hitting him square in the forehead. He looks shocked, ringed fingers dramatically grasping at his chest when he slumps in his seat.

“You wound me, sweet thing.”

It’s then that you take the time to really look at him, and a surge of utter fondness fills your chest. While he goes on a dramatic rant about how french fries could be considered a deadly weapon, you’re only half listening.

Instead admiring the way his dimple indents his cheek when he grins sheepishly at you, and his hands flail about when he speaks. And it really hits you just how lucky you are to have him, that he was all yours.

So when you lean forward to capture his lips and ultimately silence him— he’s a little surprised. But he cups your face between his palms and kisses you back with just as much fervor.

“What was that for?” he asks a little breathlessly when you pull away, and you just smile.

“Just… cause I can.”

His eyes soften and he reaches out to thread your fingers together. Eddie knows the significance of what that means, so he can’t help but lean in to press your lips together again.

“Fuck yeah, you can.”

You really wonder if the universe was playing one big joke on you.

After your mini date at the diner a few days prior, you’d barely seen Eddie the rest of the week. The guys had a big gig at the Hideout the following evening and have been using any spare moment they had to practice. While you understood the reasoning for it, the other part of you was becoming increasingly frustrated.

Eddie could definitely tell something was up, but he didn’t exactly have the time to ask you in the five minute intervals you had together between classes.

So in an effort to make up for his absence, Eddie asked you to tag along to practice that night. But you might have had some ulterior motives for agreeing. Since it had been well over a week since you had any proper alone time together, you were past the point of needy.

Despite still seeing each other, the rushed kisses and subtle touches weren’t enough for either of you.

This was the longest either of you had gone without sex, so you can only imagine he was feeling the same way. But if his longing glances told you anything, it was that he needed you just as much— if not more. So that’s why you showed up to practice in your shortest skirt you owned.

What the metalhead doesn’t know is that you aren’t wearing any panties under said skirt.

However, he’s going to find out soon enough.

You’d given him a quick peck on the cheek when you got there, nothing too much though. You really did want his friends to like you, and they seemed to hate the constant displays of affection you both exhibited on the daily. So you kept it subtle, mostly for that reason.

But a small part of you did it just to rile him more.

In the short time you’d been officially dating, it became quite apparent how much Eddie craved your touch, whether it was sexual or not. He’d subtly tap his fingers on your knee during group hang outs, or press his lips to your temple when he walked you to class. You found it utterly endearing, but you also knew you could use it to your advantage.

So you could immediately tell from the slight pout that your boyfriend wanted more than just a peck on the cheek.

Hook, line and sinker.

As practice continued on, you found yourself sitting on an unused amp, with no other chairs in sight. The group wasn’t exactly used to visitors during practice, so you had to make due. You didn’t mind it though, as it put you in Eddie’s direct line of sight.

About half an hour in they decided to take a small break, the other three males were chatting excitedly about their upcoming dnd campaign. Eddie was more focused on tuning his guitar, but his eyes continued to wander back over to you.

This was the perfect opportunity to let him in on your little secret, while the other members were too preoccupied to be paying attention to you.

You sigh heavily and lean your arms back, uncrossing your legs and letting them fall open. Giving him the perfect view of what you were hiding… or rather not hiding, underneath your skirt.

His eyes flick up to your face before they begin to travel lower, and it takes him a full minute before he notices. But once that recognition flashes across his features, his mouth hangs open in shock.

A playful smirk plays on your lips and you quickly cross your legs again, acting as though nothing had happened. Eddie’s jaw is clenched when he returns to tuning his guitar, feigning as though it had no effect on him. But you could tell from the growing bulge in his jeans, that it definitely did.

He was grateful he had the ability to hide his boner for the rest of practice, not wanting to explain himself to his bandmates. But you knew by his stiff posture, you were so in for it when this was over.

The thought had you squirming with excitement, and you tried your best not to make a mess all over your makeshift seat. Now that would be something you could never live down.

Thankfully Eddie decided to end practice earlier than normal, claiming they could all use a break after their busy week.

But only the two of you knew the real reason.

Eddie all but drags you out to his van once his gear is packed up, gently shoving you against the back door. He opens the other side to put his guitar back into the vehicle, and quickly slams it shut. You bite back a grin when he cages you in against the cool metal.

His jaw is still tense, eyes darkening when his hand begins to caress your bare thigh.

“That was quite the peep show, sweetness.”

You try to keep your breathing even, but his roaming hands are making that very difficult.

“I don’t know what you mean, baby,” you feign innocence, knowing it’ll only rile him up more.

While he loves when you’re his good girl, he also loves any excuse to treat you like his little slut. The brunette chuckles humorously, grabbing your chin in his free hand to keep your eyes aligned with his.

“Come on now, don’t play dumb with me,” he tuts.

You just continue to gaze up at him all doe-eyed, hands resting on his chest. You don’t answer him, which only makes him more frustrated than he was to begin with.

“I see how it’s gonna be... You wanna be a brat? I’ll treat you like one,” he hisses. “Now, get in the van.”

He pulls away, and you feel a sudden chill from the loss of his body heat. When you don’t move an inch his brow raises, cocking his head at you.

“Don’t make me repeat myself, sweetheart.”

As much as you would love to continue to push his buttons, you know you’re in enough trouble as it is. So you squeak out a quiet ‘yes, sir’ and round the side of the van to hop in the passenger seat.

Eddie is silent for most of the ride, but the tension in the air is palpable. While he says nothing, the glances he keeps tossing your way have you squirming in your seat. In an effort to stop your distracting movements he reaches a hand out, ringed fingers digging into the meat of your thigh.

And in your desperate state you can’t resist pushing him just a little more. So you rest your smaller hand atop his and guide his fingers in between your legs. Eddie suddenly slams on the brakes and your body flies forward when he pulls off on the side of the road.

He puts the van in park before turning to face you.

“In the back, on your knees. Now.”

You grin excitedly at his demanding tone, already anticipating what was to come. So you quickly unbuckle your seatbelt and scurry into the back of the van without another word. Eddie takes his sweet ole time before joining you, as part of your punishment. He knew your patience would only last so long.

He flicks through his cassette tapes and fiddles with the radio volume… anything to keep you waiting.

So when he does finally join you in the back, you’re practically trembling with need. His hands cradle the back of your neck, titling it to bare your throat to him. He presses harsh kisses along your skin, nipping every so often. You can’t help but whimper from the contact, your hands reaching out to grip the fabric of his shirt.

But he stops you, immediately pushing your hands aside.

“Only good girls get to touch me,” he grunts.

Your eyes widen when he pulls the skull bandana out of his back pocket, maneuvering himself around you. He pulls your hands behind your back and binds them together with the soft fabric. Once he was happy with the secureness of the knot, he’s back in front of you.

This was something new.

His fingers gently grip your chin, but he forces you to meet his gaze.

“What’s your color, baby?”

As your sexual relationship began to delve deeper, the more safe words and communication became his highest priority.

“Green… neon fucking green,” you hum.

The smirk quickly returns to his features, and his lips go back to sucking on your neck.

“Watch that pretty mouth of yours, doll or I’ll put it to use.”

You can feel the wetness starting to drip down your thighs, having absolutely no barrier due to your lack of undergarments. His hands have found their way to your breasts, kneading them in his large palms before he continues lower. Once he reaches the apex of your thighs he nearly growls, feeling your arousal coating your supple skin.

“Fuck— I need you, Eds.” you whine, already forgetting what he had just told you only moments prior.

Eddie promptly removes his hands from you, the sound of his belt clinking open has you shivering in anticipation.

“You really want to test my patience tonight, don’t you?”

You now realize your mistake.

But you can’t find it in yourself to regret it when he finally releases his cock from the confines of his jeans. You glance up at him expectantly, licking your lips at the sight of his pre-cum coating the tip. His fingers guide your mouth open and can feel your body practically buzzing with excitement.

“Since you can’t seem to listen, I’m going to use your mouth however I want. If it’s too much I need you to snap your fingers twice. Okay?”

You give him verbal confirmation and snap twice to demonstrate that you are still able to do so even with your hands bound. Satisfied with your response he grins and opens your mouth wider.

“Lemme see that tongue, baby,” he instructs.

You obey immediately and he rewards you by slapping the head of his cock against it. Once… twice… a third time… before he slips it past your lips with a groan.

Eddie’s hand fists your hair, pulling your mouth even further onto his cock. You take every inch willingly, eagerly swirling your tongue around the base of his shaft. His eyes squeeze shut, mouth slightly agape as you take him even deeper.

But you already miss his piercing gaze, now desperate for him to look at you. So you pull back until his cock slips past your lips.

His eyes shoot open and he raises a brow at you, “Did I say you could stop?”

The utter dominance in his tone and stature makes you even wetter, your thighs pressing together as he continues to stare you down with those dark eyes.

“Want you to look at me,” you plead, batting your lashes at him.

He just chuckles, keeping his gaze locked on yours when you eagerly take him back into your mouth. His fist tightens in your hair, another groan escapes him when he hits the back of your throat. A wicked grin tugs at his lips when he feels you gag around him.

“That’s right, gag on it,” he coos.

Your eyes remain locked with his as he continues to use your throat, mascara tears running freely down your cheeks with each thrust. His groans fill your ears, each one sending heat straight to your core. His lips pull up into that signature smirk as he admires the absolute mess he’s made of you.

But before he reaches that peak, he slips himself out of your mouth. It’s too soon for your liking, despite the throbbing ache between your legs. He notices the pout on your lips, now eyeing the string of saliva that keeps you connected.

“As much as I’d love to come in that bratty mouth of yours…” he pauses, wiping up some of the drool from your lips with his thumb. “I’d much rather see it dripping out of that pretty pussy instead.”

You can’t help but whimper in response, letting Eddie bend you over the center console of the vehicle. He flips your skirt up, landing a harsh smack to your ass as he nudges your legs apart with his own. You’re suddenly grateful for the console beneath you, knowing you wouldn’t have the strength to hold yourself up with your hands still bound.

Eddie grabs your bound wrists with one hand, the other slipping between your thighs.His calloused fingers run through your slick folds, and he moans at the wetness he finds there.

“God… always so wet. You’re such a little slut for me, huh? You like when I use you like this, baby?”

You merely nod, your thoughts far too jumbled from his touch that words are escaping you. But Eddie isn’t having any of it, and really you should know better.

Another harsh slap lands on your pussy this time, a shaky gasp leaving your lips.

“Come on sweetheart, tell me…”

Eddie slips two fingers into your entrance with no resistance, curling them up to hit that sweet spot inside of you. But his actions stop just as quickly as they start due to your continued silence. And when he begins to slip his fingers out, your walls contract around them in an effort to keep them nestled inside you.

“Cat got your tongue, baby?” he taunts.

You want to cry from frustration when he fully removes the digits, guiding your hips back towards him. Eddie just chuckles, before you hear him noisily suck your arousal from his fingers.

“Y-Yes, Eddie. Just please, fuck me,” you cry.

While you can’t see him, you know he’s grinning like a madman. Any further plans of begging disappear when you feel the tip of his cock rubbing through your folds. As much as he’d love to continue teasing you, his own impatience takes over and he slides into you with one hard thrust.

It doesn’t matter how many times he’s fucked you, you still feel so full. Stretched out beyond belief— it nearly takes your breath away.

Eddie doesn’t give you much warning before he’s snapping his hips back into yours. The sudden motion causes your head to lull forward and rest against the console. Your walls practically suck him in deeper, and he enjoys the pathetic little noises that leave you as he continues to slam into you.

“Fuck— you feel so good, sweetheart.”

Eddie uses your bound wrists to pound into you harder, hitting that spot inside you that makes your eyes roll into the back of your head. You can already feel your orgasm bubbling up inside you, that band getting tighter as he continues his ruthless pace.

“You gonna cum already? Such a little slut…” he nearly growls, “Go on, do it. Let’s see how many times you can make a mess on my cock.”

Between his words and the constant pounding into your g-spot is what tips you over the edge, feeling your knees wobble from the force of your orgasm. Eddie begins to slow his pace, letting you ride the waves a little before he slips one of his hands between you to gently rub at your clit.

Your soft whimpers only seem to spur him on further, keeping a steady pace. But he rams into you so deeply, you swear you can feel him in your throat. Despite how slightly overstimulating the feeling is… it’s too good to stop. And you’d do anything to show Eddie how good you can actually be.

“That’s it… feels good, baby?”

You let out a small but breathy ‘uh huh’, that being the only response you can muster at this point. One orgasm has turned your brain to mush, and all you can think or feel is Eddie Eddie Eddie.

Your response has him chuckling, as the male continues to rock his hips into yours. He loves getting you to this point, so drunk on his cock that you can’t form a coherent sentence. His fingers start to pick up their pace against your bundle of nerves, feeling how your walls clench even tighter around him.

While he wants to fill you up so badly, he also wants to see how far he could push you. It was only fair.

“Wanna show me you can listen, sweetheart? Give me another one. You can do it.”

You nearly sob as your second orgasm suddenly crashes over you. While not as forceful as the first, it’s powerful enough to make your legs give out beneath you. Letting all your weight rest against the center console. Eddie is quick to help guide your hips back up, and stops the movement of his own.

You can feel the tears slipping down your cheeks when he frees your wrists, finally slipping out of you. You whimper at the loss of contact, but it’s not gone for long. As Eddie helps guide you into a sitting position, before carefully laying you back onto a pile of blankets.

He brushes the tears away from your cheeks, and presses a gentle kiss to your lips.

“Can you give me one more? Doin’ so good for me, sweet thing.”

You practically preen at his praise, eagerly nodding when he situates himself between your legs again. He carefully lifts your trembling thighs, his touch much more gentle now. He caresses your supple skin before he slips back inside you with a deep seated groan.

You can feel how your hands begin to twitch at your sides, desperate to reach up and tangle your fingers in his curls. But his previous warning rings in your ears, only good girls can touch me. Eddie catches the subtle movement and reaches down to guide your hands up towards his head. And a loud grunt leaves him when he reaches your deepest point.

“You can touch me baby, you’ve earned it.”

He barely finishes his sentence before you’re threading your fingers through his wild curls and tugging him closer. Until your clothed chests are pressed together and you can feel the weight of his ribs against yours. Your mouths meet with a soft urgency and his tongue glides over your lower lip before slipping past them.

His pace has slowed tremendously, all in an effort to cherish the feeling of being inside you. Despite how rough can be at times, this was his favorite way to be with you. With your bodies entangled in every possible way.

While Eddie may put on a tough exterior, he’s a big softie underneath it all. And you’ve come to adore both sides of him.

He pulls away from your lips with a small gasp, greedily inhaling your mingling breath as his chestnut hues meet yours. Eddie looks beautiful like this, hovering above you all sweaty and flushed. It's truly a sight you wouldn’t grow tired of seeing. He doesn’t let lips stray too far though, leaning down to press hot kisses along your jaw towards your neck.

The brunette eagerly sucks onto the skin of your throat, tongue darting out to soothe the ache he leaves behind. One of your hands untangles itself from his tousled curls, slipping between your bodies to rub at your overly sensitive clit. Judging by how sloppy his thrusts were becoming, you knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.

Eddie buries his face into the crook of your neck, whining when you clench harder around him. The feeling of his cock twitching inside you has your head reeling, already so close to finishing for a third time that night.

“Fuck— I love you,” he pants, each slam of his hips becomes more frantic with his admission. “I love you, sweetheart.”

His confession is all it takes to push you both over the edge. Eddie’s hips stutter as he fills you, and your body arches further into his embrace with a cry of his name. It’s so intense that you can feel how his body trembles above you, and the stars begin to dance behind your lids. The weight of his words finally starts to sink in when he collapses on top of you, blinking away the tears that fill your lash line.

The mixture of your heavy breathing fills the silence and you gently stroke his curls while you both come down from your highs. Eddie must have felt your tears dripping down onto his cheek and his head lifts to regard you with concern.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” he asks.

You just shake your head, pressing another kiss to his awaiting mouth. But when you pull away a little too soon for his liking, he practically pouts. You just smile fondly, nervous fluttering in your belly at what you were about to confess. Despite hearing him utter those same three words only moments prior.

“I just… I really love you too, Eddie.”

The grin that stretches across his face has your heart thumping faster, your giggles soon fill the silence in the van as he presses tender kisses everywhere he can reach.

“Love you so much, sweetheart.”

The Hideout was packed, which seemed to be an unusual occurrence for a Saturday night in small town Hawkins. But the promise of multiple live bands quickly filled the seats that usually remained empty during the week.

Ever since you became official, you easily fit in amongst his large group of friends. Even Dustin, who was weary of you in the beginning, had quickly begun to warm up to you. But you had clicked with Robin the fastest and the two of you became very close in such a short amount of time.

Most of them had come out to support the band, besides the group of freshmen. As Eddie all but forbade from stepping foot in this establishment. His overprotective nature towards them was something you found to be incredibly endearing.

You were standing at the front of the crowd, snugly in between Robin and Steve. Mostly due to Eddie’s strict instructions to keep an eye on you. He could already anticipate just how rowdy this crowd might be from the moment you entered the dingy bar.

You anxiously shift in place, taking another swig from the flask that Robin had snuck in. You hadn’t seen Eddie for more than a few minutes since he dropped you off at home earlier that morning. And you were beyond impatient for the show to get started.

It was a little annoying how much you missed him when he wasn’t around, how uneasy it made you.

But the vodka was definitely starting to help soothe your nerves.

You continued to shift from foot to foot, partially from your growing impatience and partly due to the soreness between your thighs. The round in the van had only continued once you got back to Eddie’s trailer. He buried his tongue inside you while he showed you how much he loved you from between your thighs.

It’s as though the universe could tell you were getting antsy, as the lights on the small stage finally dim. You cheer loudly and the rest of your friends join in when the four males walk out onto the stage. They all take their respective positions, and Eddie slings his guitar strap over his shoulder and adjusts the mic stand.

“Good evening Hawkins, we’re Corroded Coffin. Thanks for coming out!”

A round of boos suddenly erupt from amongst the cheers, and your head instantly whips around to find the source. You see Jason and Scott’s whole crew leaning up against the back wall of the bar, a prominent smirk on your ex’s face. Your hands balled into fists and you quickly flip them all the bird before turning your focus back towards the stage.

Scott’s incessant torment had cooled off for a bit, but that entire week it was seeming to ramp right back up. While you knew your boyfriend could take care of himself, it still didn’t stop the fury from bubbling up inside you over it. Especially knowing it had only gotten worse because of you.

You find Eddie’s gaze again and he shoots a wink your way, not even fazed by their presence. They started off their set with a cover of Bang Your Head by Quiet Riot, already getting the crowd ramped up. Eddie was totally in his element, carefree as his fingers danced along the neck of his guitar. While they played mostly covers, they were able to sneak in a few original songs.

The crowd was overly enthusiastic, which was a nice change of pace from the five sullen drunks they usually had in attendance at their normal Tuesday time slot. While Eddie was riding that high, his eyes always seemed to find their way back to you.

“Thank you guys for being such an awesome crowd, this is our last song.”

In the time that you’ve been together, you’ve come to recognize almost all of their songs. Eddie was always bouncing lyric ideas off of you, or playing them for you any chance that he could. But hearing the first few chords ring out into the bar, you knew this one was clearly new.

And if shit eating grin he was sporting was any indication, he’d been preparing for this moment. Eddie’s eyes drift from yours to the back of the dimly lit bar as he begins singing. The opening lyrics make your eyes widen in shock.

“Scotty doesn’t know that Fiona and me do it in my van every Sunday. She tells him she’s in church, but she doesn’t go. Still she’s on her knees and Scotty doesn’t know.”

Your heart begins to race and that cocky grin never leaves his face. Your eyes follow his line of sight and you turn around, watching in amusement when you notice how Scott’s fists are clenched at his sides. This is by far the angriest you’ve ever seen him, and you can almost see the metaphorical steam coming out of his ears.

“Fiona says she’s out shopping, but she’s under me and I’m not stopping…”

A smug look graces your features when Scott meets your gaze, giving him a little wave before turning back to focus on your boyfriend. Eddie’s husky voice is full of confidence as he continues onto the next verse. That sound alone could bring you to your knees.

“I can't believe he's so trusting, while I'm right behind you thrusting. Fiona's got him on the phone, and she's trying not to moan. It's a three-way call and he knows nothing, nothing…”

Your mind instantly drifts back to that fateful phone call, that night being a major turning point in your feelings towards the metalhead. Your whole body flushes at the vulgarity of the lyrics, but in an odd way you find it kind of sweet.

Once he has your attention again, Eddie blows you a subtle kiss.

“The parkin' lot, why not? It's so cool when you're on top. His front lawn in the snow, life is so hard 'cause Scotty doesn't know! Scotty doesn't know!”

You watch in fascination as his fingers work diligently over the guitar strings, banging his head along with Jeff. The song aside, you really were enjoying yourself. Eddie lets his guitar fall to his hip, gripping the mic with both hands.

“I did her on his birthday…”

Your curiosity has gotten the better of you again, and you glance back to where Scott had previously been standing. The spot was now empty, much to your surprise. Scott was never one to back down without getting the last word. So you let your eyes wander around the bar, but Scott and his posse were nowhere in sight.

When the song starts to come to a close, Eddie and the rest of the guys have gathered at the front of the stage. Huddled together as they chanted a chorus of, ‘Scotty doesn’t know’, the crowd joining in unison. When you glance over at Robin, her grin practically matches that of your boyfriend’s.

While you had never explicitly told anyone (besides Robin) the details of how everything played out between you two, your ex definitely had his suspicions.

But now, one thing was for sure…

Scotty definitely knew.

sdk taglist: @xxbimbobunnyxx @munsonhoneybaby @mugloversonly @lemme-slytherin-that-dick @transparentenemypenguin @calumfmu @vamp-bunny @eddiesxangel @nailbatanddungeon @deathst9r @comeonatmebruh @mrsjellymunson @eddiesghxst @eddiesguitarskills @callsignraver @eldermayfield @potatobeans99 @loserboysandlithium @em0220

#the freak writes 🫧#my series: scotty doesn’t know 🫧#eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfic

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rinhaler · 1 year

Text

NOTSCAREDNOTSCAREDNOTSCARED!

✧˖*°࿐ : 18+ only, no minors. ✧. ┊ ⁭frat boy!oliver aiku x f!reader

Genre: college!au (mostly shameless smut tbh) Notes: first fic on my new blog and it's absolutely disgusting, enjoy. Warnings: 18+, noncon, somnophilia, drugging, virgin killer!oliver, implied virgin reader, tit sucking, pussy eating, biting, fingering, marking, love bites ♡, creampie, spit, alcohol consumption, lmk if I missed any!! Words: 5.3k

What a naïve little thing you are.

That’s the first thing Oliver thinks when he sets his sights on you. A shy, sweet girl wearing the one and only cocktail dress you probably own. It’s so simple but makes a loud statement. You don’t look like the other girls here. You aren’t wearing designer clothes that fit you like a glove, no. The ill-fitting garment you’ve chosen to wear speaks volumes to your innocent nature and your lack of confidence. You don’t have friends, do you? You’re here, alone, in the sleaziest and most prolific fraternity on campus. Of course, it’s a party, and anyone is welcome to attend. But the fact that you decided to come here, alone, makes him think you might be a little stupid.

But that suits him just fine.

He doesn’t approach immediately, for fear of giving the game away too soon. He bides his time and observes your behaviours and mannerisms as you wade through the crowds. His eyes have followed your longing gaze a few times and noticed how you keep looking towards the kitchen. It’s the busiest room in the house right now, he assumes. That’s where the keg and all of the alcohol is.

But almost as soon as you look that way, you avert your eyes and look elsewhere in search of a place to belong. You’ve tried starting a few conversations with the girls, but Oliver knows how catty and mean they can be. Poor thing, fresh meat like you doesn’t stand a chance.

You’re lonely, aren’t you? You’ll feel better with a little company, yeah?

He carefully walks by you in a way that will cause you to spill the drink from your grasp. And with that, this sinful game can begin. The one in which he tells you how sorry he is for causing an accident and ruining your dress. He’s so apologetic that you just can’t help but forgive him right away. And his attractiveness doesn’t go amiss. The kindest person you’ve met thus far just so happens to be so deliciously handsome.

“Let me get you a refill, it’s only fair.” he winks. And you hate yourself because your stomach flits at the casual gesture. It’s probably a line that he uses on all of the girls he meets at parties like this. It’s plain to see that he’s confident. You’re sure there won’t be a shortage of girls throwing themselves at him after a gesture like that.

But you aren’t stupid enough to be the same.

He seems older, by at least two years. He seems comfortable enough here to get you a drink so maybe this is his party. He could have a girlfriend for all you know that is in another room and completely oblivious. You don’t want to make waves before you even experience your first day of class.

People seem friendlier towards you when they notice you with him. Is it genuine? Or could they be laughing at you? His hand resides in the small of your back as he guides you far into the kitchen; until you’re standing between an island counter and the fridge. Your body is warming, and, fuck, he can feel it. You’re so shy. He hasn’t seen a girl like you in a long time. The slightest bit of attention and touching and you’re putty in his hand. What a good girl you are, he’s going to have so much fun with you.

You watch him, carefully, as he rummages through the fridge and grabs a can of beer.

You’re a little deflated as he cracks it for himself and begins to chug.

“I didn’t catch your name.” he states as his unmistakable eyes watch you intently. He has eyes you’ve never seen before, and you’ll have a hard time forgetting. Mismatched purple and green. They’re dull, but not uninteresting by any means. They’re the eyes of a man who always gets what he wants. Those eyes beautiful eyes… they’re bored because they are a prestigious, all access key to gain whatever his heart desires. You hum, hesitating for a moment until you decide you’re too awkward and uncomfortable to hide your name from him. “Oh, that’s a real pretty name. I’m Oliver.” he introduces himself.

“Hey… Oliver.” you smile, unsure of how to respond. You’re so on edge. His peculiar eyes are examining each and every movement you make like you’re being graded. And your heart is pounding… you can’t help yourself. Nobody here has extended so much as a pitying smile. You want to pass his test, he’s the only person being remotely nice to you. But still, there’s a gnawing feeling eating away and corroding your insides and it makes you feel like a criminal, like you’re doing something wrong.

Like you absolutely should not be talking to him right now.

“You’re pretty too.” he smiles, brazenly. His voice is so deep and charming, a sonorous lull as he knows all he needs to do is utter these three simple words to get a girl like you to be completely and utterly captivated. It’s such a pathetic, insipid sentence and you can’t stand that it’s working on you.

You get a full view of his wide, toothy grin and you sense that he’s trying to extend a gesture of trust to you. And you’re encapsulated by it. Pristine pearls almost blinding you and short circuiting your brain as you arrive at the realisation that he might be perfect. His features nothing short of perfection and accentuate his beguiling persona that you can’t get enough of. You haven’t even noticed the way your chest is heaving as you devour a mind-altering cocktail with him as the main ingredient.

And he can’t help but chuckle when he notices how flustered you’ve become from his words, you adorable thing. Three little words are making you squeeze your thighs together and fold your arms over your chest. And don’t think he hasn’t noticed the quickened breaths you’re taking and the dampening forehead you’re suddenly trying to wipe away. He’s noticing everything about you and making mental notes in his mind he will use later.

Do you know how vulnerable you’re being?

You should know better than to be so visibly rattled by him. He may be handsome but he’s hardly screaming upstanding citizen at you. It’s the facial hair. It’s so grotesque and sleazy and wholly unpleasant. And still, the only thought swirling around your tiny, tipsy mind is how it would feel against your skin as you kiss. How would the scruff feel between your inner thighs as he devoured your petalled flesh. You shouldn’t be thinking like this, you aren’t sure what’s wrong with you.

You don’t know how to act, do you?

“Don’t be so nervous, sweetheart.” he tells you, getting closer. The smell of his cologne invading your senses. It’s familiar, it smells expensive and suits him just fine. The type of fragrance you’d save for a special occasion to make an impact and impress people you’re around. Your nostrils flare as you inhale more. More of it. More of him. You need more.

He angles his head as he monitors your response to his proximity. He grins when he notes that you aren’t sure where to put your hands. Moving them a few times before you decide to grip the overhang of the counter behind you until the skin covering your knuckles are taut, turning white. You want to feel his chest, don’t you? It’s so broad and muscular and peaking under his shirt, he doesn’t blame you. You probably haven’t had much experience with a guy like him.

He's more than happy to show you.

You’re starting to think your heart is packing up its belongings and preparing to flee from your own chest as you feel it beating rapidly against your ribs. He’s so intoxicating, you feel lightheaded and overwhelmed by the mere presence of him. His body is trapping yours against the counter. He’s so damn tall, taller than you could have possibly imagined now that he’s pressed against you like this. Your cheeks fill with heat, and you think you might actually faint against him if he doesn’t move away. “There are bad guys at places like this, y’know? Dangerous place to be so pretty.” he warns you, whispering gently in your ear. The tone rushing through your veins and forcing you to shiver. His eyes meet yours after he speaks, his stare willing you to understand what he’s saying.

“T-Thank you…” you mumble.

“Hey, don’t worry so much. I’m the house president, I’ll keep an eye on you.” he assures you, moving away ever so slightly while keeping a lingering hand on your shoulder. A commanding touch to make your body and your mind focus on him. His hand is cold to the touch and you realise it’s from holding the metal can, cold from the refrigerator. The cooling caress of his fingers is polar opposite to the warm smile he’s offering you. You aren’t sure what to do or say, but you need not worry about yourself anymore. He had intended on doing all of your thinking for you tonight, anyway. “Oh, shit, you wanted a drink, right? Let me get one for you.” he speaks, his body moving to act before you can even answer.

“U-Um…” you hesitate, seeing him grab a bottle of rum and a mixer. You hate spirits because they always get you embarrassingly wasted. There are four prominent occasions in the forefront of your mind as you reminisce on the states you’ve found yourself in after drinking spirits. The smell alone is enough to make you gag, but you do all you can to ignore it. You don’t want to make a fool of yourself, you don’t want to do something humiliating that will be talked about for years to come.

You aren’t a prude; you aren’t opposed to getting drunk. You just don’t think it’s a good way to introduce yourself.

He’s moving so fast, and his back is to you as he pours your drink, the red solo cup obscured from your vision as he fills it to the brim for you.

You dumb little thing.

Isn’t this something you’ve been warned about? Not letting your drinks out of your sight at any point, ever. Of course you have, it’s rule number one of going to parties or nightclubs or anywhere that your drink can be tampered with.

You just aren’t thinking straight.

And why would you?

You’re so out of place in this big, intimidating environment. You’re hardly going to suspect the first person to show you a bit of kindness is actually the shadiest guy at the party. But deep down, you know you should consider everyone a suspect after hearing what he had to say. If the guys here are so shady, why does he stick with them? If he’s the president, why doesn’t he tell them to do better?

These few fleeting thoughts have been nothing but. Passing ideas that you thought of and discarded as quickly as they arrived. You can’t live your life in fear or you’ll never make any friends here. And he’s going to all of this trouble for you. You’re nobody to him, and he’s still finding it in his heart to extend a benevolent demeanour to you and making sure you have a drink and a friendly face to keep you company for the night.

So you aren’t going to think twice that he’s slipped something in your drink, you can’t see what he’s doing, but for some reason, you trust him. Would you trust him, still, if he wasn’t so good looking? Would you trust him less if he hadn’t announced he is the fraternity president? He knows you’d never have trusted receiving a drink from him if he just offered it to you out of nowhere.

He’s happy he didn’t have to work too hard, you aren’t completely stupid, but you’re still dumb enough to accept a drink from him like this. You barely even think about it as he flashes you a beaming smile and hands it to you. Hell, it might even loosen you up. You knock half of it back in three seconds and you giggle after the fact.

He’s laughing too.

But it’s at your expense, you poor, sweet thing. You’re going to be seeing so many stars tonight, a sight reserved for Oliver’s favourite angels.

“You’re crazy, huh? You like to party a lot, baby?” he wonders, taking another swig of his drink as he rests against the fridge beside him.

“No, never! This is my first big party.” you confess, and he doesn’t miss the way you slightly cringe at yourself for saying something you must think is a little embarrassing. “I mean, I’ve been to parties… this one is just—”

“You’ll get used to it.” he tells you. “The first one is always memorable, though.”

“Really? How come?” you ask, curiously.

God you’re so cute, it’s killing him. Even he can’t hide the smirk forming on his face as he tries to conceal it with his beer. He decides to not answer. Instead, he admires the way you look disappointed at the prospect of him losing interest in you. He thinks he could bathe in the watery sheen glossing over your eyes as you worry that you’ve said something so stupid that he doesn’t want to talk to you anymore.

He's such a disgustingly vile man. All he can think to do is refuse to put you out of your misery. Instead, he revels in the way you knock back the rest of your drink. The way your eyes widen paints a perfect picture in telling him it was too strong for you. Stronger than anything you’ve ever drank in your life. And that’s without the added ingredient he decided to slip in.

“I— do you have a girlfriend?” your question is abrupt as you wipe the excess liquid from your plump lips. Your watery eyes watching him keenly as you do your best to decipher his intentions.

“No.”

You scoff and shake your head. “I don’t even know why I asked you that, as if you’d tell the truth.” you mumble to yourself, but it’s loud enough for him to hear. And just as you’re about to walk away, he responds.

“I don’t care if you know whether I have a girlfriend or not. I would only care if I was trying to fuck you.” the sentence rolls off his tongue with ease. Like he knew exactly what you were going to say before you even thought of it. And you feel a wave of humiliation crash throughout your body; you feel a current trying to drag you under and suffocate you under the foaming sea.

“Y-You aren’t?” you need to stop talking. You need to stop embarrassing yourself like this. For his benefit. For the other people in the kitchen with you. It feels like everyone is staring at you and laughing at your expense. Maybe you’re just drunk and being paranoid. You should go, you should sprint out of here with whatever small scraps of dignity you have left.

He shakes his head, his hand reaching out to yours to pull you closer to him. It trails, up your side and to your chin as your eyes fixate on his. His thumb smooths over your chin, encouraging you to open your mouth for him. He tilts his can of beer onto your lower lip. The golden, yeasty liquid spills from the metal container and onto your tongue. Your eyes don’t leave his as all you can do is stand there and take it. Your little throat expanding with each glug of the disgustingly bitter drink.

Your body is once again pressed against the counter. He snickers when he feels your body jolt against his as you hear the sound of the beer can he was holding clattering against the tiled floor. And he takes great delight in the way your body melts against his touch as he places a hand on your hip. The other, smoothing the shell of your ear before he levels his mouth with it.

“I don’t need to try, I’m going to fuck you.” he whispers, he kisses against your ear a few times and the sound rushes straight to your clit. You squeeze your thighs together again hoping to alleviate the brewing tension. You pray you were discreet enough for him to not notice.

You weren’t.

And it’s worse as he kisses your neck so openly in front of everyone. He sucks and sucks and sucks until his name is signed in blue and purple blooms against your skin. You bite your lip, internally cursing him for forcing you to have to wear a scarf for the coming weeks until it fades away.

“S-Stop it.” your legs buckle and there is something wrong with your eyes. The room won’t stop spinning. You didn’t drink that much, did you?

“Woah!” Oliver exclaims as you fall into his hold. “You don’t know how to handle your drink, hm? I think you need to sleep it off.”

“T-Tax—”

“No, no. I’d be a terrible host if I made you get a taxi all by yourself. C’mon.” he lifts you with ease, your entire body limp in his arms. And he just can’t believe how lucky he is. How blessed he is to be born so genetically gifted. Because he knows there is no way in hell he’d be getting away with this if he wasn’t attractive. Girls looking at him like he’s some kind of hero coming to your rescue. Him, a hero. It would almost be hilarious if it wasn’t so fucking tragic.

There’s no way you’re forgetting your first frat party.

He’ll make sure of that.

As he passes a few of his brothers on the stairs, they all share a knowing look. Like this isn’t the first time Oliver has been in this predicament. And it surely won’t be the last. He winks at them as he walks by, and he puts you down as he reaches his door, your body dropping like a stone as he lets you fall with no care.

You can do nothing but groan as he drags you by your underarms and into his room. God you want to go home. Not to your student accommodation. Home. You want to be with your parents and under your own roof, sleeping in your own bed. It’s hard to even tell where you are. Are you still in the kitchen? No, there’s no way.

All you can think about is how tired you are.

Suddenly, you’re in the air, being flung onto a nearby bed. You feel like your body doesn’t belong to you. You’re no longer in control and you can’t move your limbs how you want to. You want to use your legs and walk right on out of here and into a taxi.

But you’re lucky, really.

Your body doesn’t belong to you anymore. It’s all his. His to do whatever he wants with. You can’t move, and yet Oliver is going to be kind enough to move you however he likes. Maybe you don’t feel so lucky about it. But you’re just confused right now. Oliver knows you wanted this. Wanted him. The pill in your drink was just a little insurance policy to make sure everyone got what they want.

He prefers girls like this anyway.

Nice ‘n pliant.

“Said I’d take care of you, didn’t I?” he smiles, lecherous hands feeling each and every inch of your body. A curious hand reaching up to touch the fat flesh of one of your tits as he massages it over your tiny little dress. “Think you can wear something like this and expect me not to fuck you?” he whispers.

“Mmmpf…” you hum, there’s still a little defiance in you. At this point, he wouldn’t mind if you were on the cusp of sleep. There’s something so special to him about extracting salacious moans from unconscious bodies.

“’m just getting you out of this little thing… gonna find a comfy t-shirt for you to wear to sleep.” he assures you. He wonders if you believe him. He almost believes himself. But as he pulls down the strapless bust of your dress and your supple flesh is revealed to him, the thought of covering it again dies an instant death in his mind. “Fuuuuuck, gorgeous fuckin’ tits.” he moans, his bulge straining against his jeans as envisions himself sucking them until they’re puckered and raw.

He climbs over you, your tiny frame beneath his domineering one. He’s sure you hadn’t neglected to notice how muscular he is before you passed out, even beneath his clothes. He must be some kind of athlete. He’s too beefy not to be. And boy, does he use his weight and size to his advantage when he’s dealing with delicate things like you.

His head practically falls from his shoulder as he decides to let his fantasy come to life. He licks and laves over your tits individually until he gets a little rougher. Softly nibbling the tender buds until they are aching and so sore. His teeth bruise your flesh as he marks them. An assortment of canines and molars as well as decorative love bites.

Any chance you had of forgetting this party are gone.

You’ll know what happened to you.

You might even remember who did it.

But there’s no way a sweet, timid freshman like you is going to have the courage to tell such an unbelievable tale. You might think there are steps in place to protect innocent things like you. You’re a victim, after all. You need protecting. But once again, that would just be so telling as to how naïve you truly are. Drugging pretty girls at college parties is never going to end. The staff, the students, even the police are never going to side with you.

And why would they? These false statements issued by the board, talks of ‘standing with victims’ and offering a listening ear are nothing but lip service. The institution you have found yourself in will say anything to seem like a worthwhile choice. The right and most beneficial choice to you and your future.

But the harrowing truth is that they don’t have time to protect girls like you when they are too busy covering up the messes of men like him.

He pushes your dress up to your midsection, exposing a pair of white lace panties.

“Awe, for me? You knew you were gonna get lucky tonight, didn’t you?” he asks. But of course, you’re unresponsive. His finger prods at the thin material, an involuntary laugh leaving his lungs as he is greeted with the feeling of your soaked underwear on the pad of his digit. “Too dumb t’speak right now… good job your cunt is telling me how much you want me.”

His thumb circles your clit over the material. And even he’s a little dumbfounded at the way your body betrays you. You squirm and your brows furrow as you try to stave off the pleasurable feeling. But for all he knows, you could be trying to fight him off.

He doesn’t care, though, your pussy already gave your true feelings away.

Even he can’t ignore the way his cock is leaking at the sight of your tight heat becoming exposed as he peels away your panties. A slick string connecting your sex to the material.

You must be a virgin, he thinks. Virgins get wet so easily. He suspected it from the moment he saw you. You’re so awkward and uncomfortable around people, but especially guys. You fumble over your words, and you can’t flirt to save your fucking life. But he didn’t care. The thought of your first time being with him was enough to make him want you. And even if you have fucked before. It doesn’t matter, he doesn’t need to know. The very thought is enough.

He pins your knees to your chest, and he begins to feast on your dripping cunt. You shudder as your body feels the tension building with each suckle and slurp against your clit. It’s unrelenting, he can’t get enough of you. He’s fucking addicted to the taste of your slick and he doesn’t know how he’s gone so long without it. Your left leg ragdolls as he lets go, opting to slip a finger into your unprepared hole without stopping his assault on your swollen clit.

And without hesitation, he’s adding another. He takes his time scissoring you open, and by now he’s convinced you’re a virgin. You’re so fucking tight. There’s no way you’ve had a dick inside of you. Or if you have, it must have been small.

You won’t have to worry about that with him.

Even unconscious, he’s sure you’ll feel how he’s gonna stretch you.

Your lazy groans are like a cheer to him. Your body is telling him what a great job he’s doing. How close you are. How badly you want to cum in his mouth and douse his thick, calloused fingers in your syrupy sheen.

The tip of his tongue lashes over the throbbing button at the apex of your thighs. He doesn’t particularly care if you take him well or not. You’re going to take him regardless. But he isn’t so heartless he won’t try and make it a little less painful for you. He’s urging you to cum for him, his free hand pressing down on your abdomen in a bid to enhance your pleasure. With each whip of his tongue against your clit and every press of your spongy insides with his fingers, he’s trying to drag you over the edge.

Your lifeless body surprises him once more.

He pulls away and observes the way your pussy pulses and your walls tighten around his fingers as you begin to cum for him. Your spent little cunt drooling around his thick digits and coating them in your slick. You even moaned for him. Not loudly, of course. A few tell-tale grunts to let him know you were happy with his work.

His eyes ogle your tits once again, admiring the way your chest rises and falls as he sucks his fingers clean. You’re so fucking cute. You must be heaven sent, the way you stepped into the frat may as well have been a gift with a garish bow from Santa Claus himself.

He unbuckles his belt with one hand whilst squeezing and pinching your nipples once again. They’re so pretty, the prettiest pair of tits he’s ever seen. He’s rock hard in his jeans, leaking like crazy and desperate to be buried to the hilt in your sweet little snatch.

And his heavy cock springs free, the tip leaving evidence of just how desperate he is on his v-neck shirt. Pearly pre shimmering against the black material that is soon to dry and harden and meld with the cotton fibres. But he can’t find it in himself to care. He pulls it over his head and throws it into the corner of his room, he’ll deal with it another time. There’s something much more entertaining lying atop his sheets right now.

“Mmm… think this is gonna hurt sweetheart. But you’re gonna be good ‘n take it f’me, yeah?” he lines himself up with your entrance and gives your still body one final look before breaching your insides with his thick cockhead. “Fuckin’ hell you’re tight. You’re so fucking tight, might cum just from this.” he speaks.

He knows you can’t understand him, but he can’t stop himself from communicating with you anyway. He needs you to know how special you are. That out of all of the girls at the party, he chose you. Don’t you feel special? He’s sure you will when you’re stuffed full of his cum. It’ll all dawn on you tomorrow and you’ll feel so honoured that the one and only Oliver Aiku fucked you open and covered you in so many pretty patterns and was even kind enough to pump you full of his cum.

You have no idea how much restraint he’s showing by not instantly splitting you open on his thick, heavy cock. He can’t help but feel that slowly plunging into your virgin walls is a better display of claiming your body. It’s almost torture for him, easing in inch at a time at an agonising pace.

And when he’s fully sheathed inside your suffocating walls, the pleasure is almost too much, he could shed a tear at the feeling. But, of course, he won’t. He’s prioritising the task at hand.

He holds under your knee and pushes it further into your chest and begins to slowly roll his hips. It’s hypnotising, the way even out of consciousness your eyes can still roll back into your skull. He takes note of how he’s moving when your eyelids begin to flutter.

“Oh baby… right there? Like it when I fuck you there?” he wonders, experimenting with his movement and speeding up ever so slightly. His cockhead is nudging your g-spot so perfectly. It’s so deliciously soft, and those saccharine expressions you’re donning are about to drag him to an early demise.

His grip on your thigh is harsh. Another galaxy of purple bruises forming under his fingers on your doughy skin. He hasn’t noticed. It’s second nature to him to be a little rougher than intended. But it’s part of the fun, right? More little discoveries for you to find in days to come.

He’s entranced by the way his cock vanishes inside of your cute cunt. He’s being swallowed whole by your sticky lips. The sound reverberates throughout the room. The suctioning sounds of you pulling him inside and the tackiness of your pussy and his cock meeting again and again and again.

Your eyes squint as he yanks down your jaw until he sees your tongue. He’s so abhorrent and even at this point he knows this to be the truth himself. He just can’t fucking help it. He wants to do anything and everything to you. He wants to humiliate you because you’re just that special to him. With a cartoonish ‘ptuh’ sound, a glob of spit has landed on your tongue and is slowly sliding down your throat.

With a few more presses of his tip against your sweet spot, you’re spasming around him again. Maybe you liked it after all. You wouldn’t cum if you didn’t. Do you like being taken advantage of by reprehensible scum like Oliver Aiku? Do you like being unconscious while getting your insides pummelled? This might warp your tiny little mind. Maybe you’ll think this is love and this is what you’re meant for. It is, as far as Oliver is concerned. He doesn’t let up humping into your tiny hole. He spits in your mouth again, and it’s the final straw to pull him into his oncoming bliss right along with you.

“Little slut,” he pants, his hips faltering as he feels himself reaching the precipice. “Mine. My little slut. My fuckin’ cunt. H-Hear me? Mine.” he practically growls as he shoots load after load into your unprotected womb. “Ah— fuck. Fuuuuuck—” he finishes, fucking his viscous seed back into you.

He pulls out immediately after, admiring the way his sperm drips and squelches out of your spent cunt. You’re clenching around nothing, poor thing. You must miss him.

But you don’t have to worry. You won’t have to miss him for long. You’re not done, after all. He just needs some time to recharge. He wasn’t just going to fuck you once and be done with you. Not a perfect little pussy like that, no. Those drugs will be in your system for a few hours.

He’s far from done with you yet.

#oliver aiku x reader #oliver aiku smut #oliver aiku x you #aiku x reader #aiku smut #aiku oliver x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock smut #bllk smut #tw noncon #tw somno #tw drugging #tw biting #tw marking #tw spit #tw alcohol

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luxaofhesperides · 10 months

Text

We Are Robins meeting to Signal apprehending Danny ; requested by @zylev-blog!

“Hey, Danny. How are you feeling?”

Danny gives Duke a tired smile, his head falling back against the wall. He’s sitting up today, which is good. It’s definitely an improvement from the many days Danny was unable to do much but lie down and grit his teeth through the pain as Duke checked on the gunshot wound. It’s a good thing Danny’s a meta with a healing factor, or nothing Duke could have done would have saved him.

As it is, the wound was severe enough to keep Danny vulnerable and unable to move on his own without making it worse. Though Duke has looked, he hasn’t had any luck in finding whoever did this to Danny. He hasn’t brought it up to the rest of the We Are Robin gang, but only because Danny only let him help if he kept it between the two of them.

What’s another secret? If it lets him stay close to Danny and make sure he’s healing well, then he’ll keep quiet and carry on the search by himself. He’s got plenty of practice in doing things on his own.

“Busy out there?” Danny asks as Duke sits down next to him, dropping his backpack onto the ground.

“Yeah, it’s tough with the cops after us, but someone needs to help Gotham and with Batman gone…”

A pained expression crossed Danny’s face. Eyeing him carefully, Duke opened his backpack and pulled out a few protein bars and sports drinks for him. Once Danny takes them and began eating one, Duke takes out the first aid kit, always kept at the bottom of the backpack, and sets it in front of Danny.

The most he can do is offer supplies and company at this stage of Danny’s healing. He gets twitchy and tense when Duke tries to tend to his wound, and seems to have plenty of practice in patching himself up.

He didn’t answer when Duke commented on it once, so Duke let the matter drop.

Metas may have legal protection, but that doesn’t stop people from targeting them. Duke has no intention of pushing Danny into remembering unpleasant things while he’s already wounded, hiding out in the upper corner of an abandoned warehouse taken over by a group of homeless people. Most aren’t inside during the day, choosing instead to be out with the rest of the city, which leaves them alone.

Duke keeps an eye on the ground floor of the warehouse, making sure no one comes in while Danny tends to his wound. When he peeks back, he can see that it’s much smaller than it was the night Duke found him, crawling down an alley with one hand clutching his side, tears slipping down his face. There had been so much blood that Duke was sure he had just stumbled upon someone dying and froze, horrified.

And then a shout down the road prompted him to move, hauling Danny up and helping him into the warehouse to hide.

For a normal person, if it didn’t kill them, the wound would still be raw and bleeding, larger than any gunshot wound he’s seen before. But Danny’s wound is closing up quickly, no longer bleeding, the edges a healing pink.

It doesn’t look like it’s going to scar, either.

“Think it’ll be all healed up by the end of the week?”

Danny glances up, then continues covering it with new bandage, large enough to cover the entire wound. “Hopefully,” he says. “Then I’ll be out of your hair and can figure out a way to get home.”

“Your folks gonna look out for you?”

“Probably. I’m not planning on telling them, though, since they’ll get way too overprotective. The only reason they’re not tearing Gotham apart looking for me is because I came here with my godfather and he told them we’d be gone for two weeks. Can’t believe he tried to kill me on day one…”

“Your godfather tried to kill you?”

“Yeah. Not personally, or anything, but he definitely hired the guy who shot me. Though he also yelled at him for shooting me? Not sure what that’s about, but I never trusted the guy and he didn’t try to help me afterwards when I ran away, so. You know.”

Duke wants to have a conversation with Danny’s godfather. Maybe bring the other Robins along to make sure the message sinks in: Don’t touch Danny.

But Danny, acting so casual about his godfather trying to kill him, would be unhappy about it, and Duke would really rather be able to take care of him than be shut out for trying to take control of the situation.

“Shit, man, that sucks,” he offers, instead of prying for details so he can hunt down his godfather. “You want a hug or something? I can’t really do much else, but if it can make you feel better about all this…”

Danny brightens and shoves the first aid kit away, his shirt (one of Duke’s old ones he offered up to replace the bloodstained one) falling to cover the bandage. “Please. I would love a hug, dude, I don’t remember the last time I felt so lonely.”

Carefully, Duke wraps his arms around Danny, leaning back so Danny could relax fully and not worry about holding himself up. Danny sighs into the hug, going fully limp as he drops his forehead onto Duke’s shoulder.

“Thanks for this. And everything,” Danny says some time later. He doesn’t move to pull away, so Duke stays as he is, watching the weak sunlight slowly move across the warehouse as it spills in from dirty windows.

“You don’t need to thank me. I mean, I’m a Robin.” He brings up a hand to tap a finger against the R embroidered into his jacket. “It’s what we’re here for.”

It’s been years since he saw Danny. After he was fully healed, Duke helped him get to city limits, watching as he boarded a bus and disappeared down the road, leaving his life just as suddenly as he entered it.

After spending so much time together, quiet hours of stillness just looking out for each other, his life feels emptier without Danny in it. He knew it wouldn’t last, that Danny would go home eventually, but it didn’t make the parting any easier.

Even now, as Signal, taking a break from going on missions with the Outsiders to spend some time with the Bats, his thoughts drift towards Danny, wondering if he’s alright. In his darker moments, he wonders if Danny’s godfather has tried to kill him again, if he’s succeeded. In calmer, happier moments, he remembers Danny’s quiet stories about his family, his town, all his dreams and hopes for the future, remembers the easy company and how Danny didn’t look at him with pity when talked about his parents, just quiet and contemplative.

Sometimes, he can’t resist the urge to look him up, but there are so many Danny’s out there that he doesn’t know where to start. He never got Danny’s last name or learned when he came from.

It’s not like he can just ask the Bats for help finding a guy he knew for two weeks before he ever joined them. They’re all busy with their own missions, and definitely don’t have time for Duke’s reminiscing.

“Just caught sight of the truck entering city limits,” Oracle says in his ear. “It’s heading towards the Coventry.”

“On it. Any movement from the mobs?”

“None yet. I expect this to change soon. Red Hood and Black Bat are patrolling nearby if you need backup.”

“Got it. Signal out.”

His comline shuts with a little click, and then he’s grappling over the roof tops, keeping an eye on the roads in search of the truck. He doesn’t have time to think of Danny anymore, not when a shipment of new, experimental weapons is passing through Gotham. Spoiler had heard a few whispers of it and Red Robin helped find more solid details; the mobs are all looking to take the shipment for themselves in an attempt to get the upper hand in the nonstop fight for control of Gotham’s streets.

It’s passing through during the day, visible and a good move to keep from being ambushed at night, but it’s not enough to stop mobs hoping to take out their competition with new weapons. Duke enters the Coventry just as his comline beeps once and Oracle begins giving him specific directions, along with a brief description of what the truck looks like.

Apparently, the weapons are being moved in a U-Haul rental truck. That is… certainly a Choice™ to make for moving weapons around the country.

He follows it from the rooftops, but nothing happens. The truck passes through the Coventry without incident and takes a turn that keeps it away from Crime Alley and the Bowery. It gets to the middle of East End then pulls to a stop in the parking lot of a diner.

Two people get out and stretch, then head in to get something to eat.

It would be the perfect time for someone to break in. Duke pulls the light over himself, manipulating it to make him disappear from sight as he looks down from the edge of the rooftop, tense and prepared for anything.

He almost doesn’t see it at first. It’s just a flicker, a flash of color, a shift in the shadows across the street. But he does see it, even if he can’t find it again, and drops down from the roof, creeping towards the truck.

Duke waits, holding his breath, off to the side of the parking lot.

A minute passes. And then a figure materializes out of thin air, floating right behind the truck. All Duke can see is white hair and a black body suit; they’re either a meta or an alien, but either way, Duke is ready to take them down.

The figure lifts their hands and a bolt of neon green energy hits the truck, melting the back and leaving a large hole that gives them direct access to the weapons. And then they shoot again, destroying the weapons.

“Phantom!” someone shouts, and the truck driver comes tearing out of the restaurant, a white gun in his hand. His companion follows, her gun also out, and the begin shooting.

Phantom dodges the blasts, then vanishes from sight. He reappears behind them a moment later, tackling back of them into the side of the truck.

“No you don’t!” Duke say, rushing forward as he pulls at the shadows around him then sends them racing towards Phantom, restraining them. The driver and his companion collapse onto the ground, groaning weakly, and Duke grits his teeth. “O, send someone to look after the people moving the weapons. Apprehending an attacker now.”

He doesn’t wait to hear a response, tightening the shadow’s grip on Phantom, who struggles fiercely.

“We can do this the hard way, or the easy way,” he says, pulling Phantom closer to him.

Phantom doesn’t answer. They just scream, the force of it making Duke fall back. His shadows dissipate, and Phantom flies up.

“Get back here!”

Duke gives chase, dropping in and out of shadows, throwing some at Phantom in the hopes of catching him again. But Phantom is fast and it takes all he has to keep up as they cross Gotham.

He thought Phantom was flying around blindly, but the way they move across the roofs and then through the streets are too confident, too focused to be anything other than someone with a destination in mind. But where? Where could they be going? If they’ve been in Gotham, then Duke would have heard of them.

A flying, powerful meta with a multitude of powers? Yeah, he would have known about them.

Phantom flies through a wall and Duke curses, going onto the roof and looking around, waiting to see them fly out. But they don’t and Duke finds a broken skylight to drop in from, landing on the support beams of the warehouse, well above the ground.

He knows the warehouse, he realizes suddenly. It’s the warehouse Danny hid in while he was healing. Duke hasn’t been back in years.

“Just listen to me, please,” a voice says behind him, and Duke tense, spinning around to face Phantom, floating just out of reaching distance. “Those weapons are dangerous. No one should have them, it’s why I had to destroy them. Please, you can’t let them get those weapons out.”

Duke stares. Something about Phantom is familiar. The shape of his face, maybe. His voice. Maybe it’s just because he’s in the warehouse again, with someone pleading for his help.

Maybe it’s all in his mind.

“Danny?”

Phantom flinches, floating back a few inches. “What— How—”

“What happened? Is it your godfather again?”

“My— Duke? Is that you?!”

He definitely shouldn’t be doing this, but Danny’s here. Danny’s here in front of him, needing help, and he doesn’t need the Signal. He needs Duke.

He pulls off his helmet and lifts his bare face to Danny.

“Oh,” Danny breathes. “Well. I guess I should have known you’d be a hero. Can you help me one last time?”

“Yeah, of course Danny. Tell me what you need.”

“Those weapons, they were first made to kill me and others like me. It’s a whole thing I don’t have time to explain. But they’ve been changed to affect humans, all types of people, as well. I can survive a few hits from those weapons, but for most people, it would kill them instantly. I need to destroy all of them and stop any further production before the rest of the world gets a hold of them.”

“That’s why you—”

“They have to be destroyed,” Danny says. “And the people making and selling them need to be stopped. I can’t do it on my own. I’ve tried, but…”

“I’ll help,” Duke says, “I’ll help. This is a big enough problem to bring the Outsiders into it. Or the Bats, but they like to stay in Gotham.”

Danny floats closer, looking painfully relieved. “Really? They’ll be able to put an end to this?”

Duke reaches for him. “Yeah. they can do it. I’ll make sure of it.”

Danny’s feet land on the support beam as his hand meets Duke’s. They balance above the rest of the warehouse, drinking in the sight of each other. Duke rubs his thumb over Danny’s knuckles in soothing circles and watches as the tension begins to fall away from Danny’s shoulders.

“Duke,” he whispers, “I’ve missed you—”

The door below is kicked open, and a gunshot rings out.

Moving on instinct, Duke tackles Danny, wrapping him up in his arms as they fall off the support beam. They hit the ground hard, rolling a bit, and Duke tucks Danny into his chest, bodily protecting him.

“Narrows!”

The Red Hood stands over him, menacing, a gun pointed at him.

“Hood?” He loosens his grip on Danny. “What the hell was that for?”

“Thought you needed back up. You chased after our guy and lost your helmet, I think I’m right to be a little worried about you. So, who’s this?” There’s a hard edge to his voice, and Duke realizes with a sinking heart that all anyone else sees is an aggressor, a meta who attacked a truck full of weapons, attacked two people, and had to be chased down by the Signal. Jason’s seeing a threat and acting accordingly, putting Duke’s safety first.

And with his helmet off, identity clear, Danny’s even more dangerous now that he has this knowledge.

“I’m sorry,” Danny whispers to Duke. He doesn’t have time to ask for what? before Danny’s shooting another beam of green energy at Jason then taking off, flying through the roof and out of sight.

“Shit,” Jason mutters, straightening up from where he ducked to avoid being hit, then puts his gun away and kneels next to Duke. “You alright? Why’d you let him go? I thought you had him.”

“I’m fine. He’s not… He wasn’t going to hurt me. He just needed help.”

“Sure. And what are you not telling me?”

“I knew him. He’s a good person, but he’s been in danger for a long time. This was him trying to protect others from what he went through.”

Jason takes off the helmet and stares at him. Then he sighs and reaches a hand down to help Duke to his feet. “Alright,” he says, “Let’s head back to the truck. You have until then to convince me that they’re the problem, and if they are, then I’ll help you blow up more of their weapons.” He claps a hand on Duke’s shoulder, then pulls his helmet back on. “Grab your helmet. We’re wasting daylight, Narrows.”

There’s nothing else he can do, no way to search for Danny when there are other leads to chase, so Duke grapples up to the catwalk where his helmet landed and grabs it.

Just before he puts it on, he sees a flicker of white just outside the window he’s facing. He ducks his head to hide a smile. It’s almost like he’s stepped back in time; Danny’s here in Gotham, needing help and asking for it in the warehouse.

And though so much has changed in those years, there’s still one thing that Duke will ensure never changes: he’s Danny’s hero. Above Robin, or Signal, or anything else, Duke is Danny’s hero.

This time, he has the power to actually help Danny. He’s going to make sure no one ever hurts Danny again.

“Let’s go,” he says, jumping back down to Jason, helmet on. “I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp fic #dp x dc fanfic #prompt fill #my writing #gotta be honest i do Not know much abt the We Are Robin movement. have yet to read those comics....#also this definitely deviated a bit from your prompt. sorry!! still hope i got the main things you wanted to see #duke being dannys hero is something so special to me...#also it is his parents selling weapons and blueprints and things to the giw which is then given to the military for new weapons #a truly terrible pipeline #duke and jason and whoever else joins will find the source of the weapons. break into the fenton home. and dannys just there eating toast #in his pjs like. um hi guys did u need something? (and staring at duke like DUDE HELLO WTF??)#a mess of a situation :) not gonna write it bc i know it would get away from me and get so long #thanks for the prompt!!

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secretgamergirl · 10 months

Text

How a Computer Works - Part 1 (Components)

I am about to teach you on a real fundamental, connecting up electronic components level, how a computer actually works. Before I get into the meat of this though (you can just skip down below the fold if you don't care), here's the reasons I'm sitting doing so in this format:

Like a decade or two ago, companies Facebook pushed this whole "pivot to video" idea on the whole internet with some completely faked data, convincing everyone that everything had to be a video, and we need to start pushing back against that. Especially for stuff like complex explanations of things or instructions, it's much more efficient to just explain things clearly in text, maybe with some visual aids, so people can easily search, scan, and skip around between sections. It's also a hell of a lot easier to host things long term, and you can even print out a text based explainer and not need a computer to read it, keep it on a desk, highlight it, etc.

People are so clueless about how computers actually work that they start really thinking like it's all magical. Even programmers. Aside from how proper knowledge lets you get more out of them, this leads to people spouting off total nonsense about "teaching sand to think" or "everything is just 1s and 0s" or "this 'AI' a con artist who was trying to sell me NFTs a month ago probably really is an amazing creative thinking machine that can do everything he says!"

We used to have this cultural value going where it was expected that if you owned something and used it day to day, you'd have enough basic knowledge of how it worked that if it stopped working you could open it up, see what was wrong, and maybe fix it on your own, or maybe even put one together again from scratch, and that's obviously worth bringing back.

I'm personally working on a totally bonkers DIY project and I'd like to hype up like-minded people for when it gets farther along.

So all that said, have a standard reminder that I am completely reliant on Patreon donations to survive, keep updating this blog, and ideally start getting some PCBs and chips and a nice oscilloscope to get that mystery project off the ground.

Electricity probably doesn't work like how you were taught (and my explanation shouldn't be trusted too far either).

I remember, growing up, hearing all sorts of things about electricity having this sort of magical ability to always find the shortest possible path to where it needs to get, flowing like water, and a bunch of other things that are kind of useful for explaining how a Faraday cage or a lightning rod works, and not conflicting with how simple electronics will have a battery and then a single line of wire going through like a switch and a light bulb or whatever back to the other end of the battery.

If you had this idea drilled into your head hard enough, you might end up thinking that if we have a wire hooked to the negative end of a battery stretching off to the east, and another wire stretching off to the east from the positive end, and we bridge between the two in several places with an LED or something soldered to both ends, only the westernmost one is going to light up, because hey, the shortest path is the one that turns off as quickly as possible to connect to the other side, right? Well turns out no, all three are going to light up, because that "shortest path" thing is a total misunderstanding.

Here's how it actually works, roughly. If you took basic high school chemistry, you learned about how the periodic table is set up, right? A given atom, normally, has whatever number of protons in the core, and the same number of electrons, whipping all over around it, being attracted to those protons but repelled by each other, and there's particular counts of electrons which are super chill with that arrangement so we put those elements in the same column as each other, and then as you count up from those, you get the elements between those either have some electrons that don't fit all tight packed in the tight orbit and just kinda hang out all wide and lonely and "want to" buddy up with another atom that has more room, up to the half full column that can kinda go either way, then as we approach the next happy number they "want to" have a little more company to get right to that cozy tight packed number, and when you have "extra" electrons and "missing" electrons other atoms kinda cozy up and share so they hit those good noble gas counts.

I'm sure real experts want to scream at me for both that and this, but this is basically how electricity works. You have a big pile of something at the "positive" end that's "missing electrons" (for the above reason or maybe actually ionized so they really aren't there), and a "negative" end that's got spares. Then you make wires out of stuff from those middle of the road elements that have awkward electron counts and don't mind buddying up (and also high melting points and some other handy qualities) and you hook those in there. And the electron clouds on all the atoms in the wire get kinda pulled towards the positive side because there's more room over there, but if they full on leave their nucleus needs more electron pals, so yeah neighbors get pulled over, and the whole wire connected to the positive bit ends up with a positive charge to it, and the whole wire on the negative bit is negatively charged, and so yeah, anywhere you bridge the gap between the two, the electrons are pretty stoked about balancing out these two big awkward compromises and they'll start conga lining over to balance things out, and while they're at it they'll light up lights or shake speakers or spin motors or activate electromagnets or whatever other rad things you've worked out how to make happen with a live electric current.

Insulators, Resistors, Waves, and Capacitors

Oh and we typically surround these wires made of things that are super happy about sharing electrons around with materials that are very much "I'm good, thanks," but this isn't an all or nothing system and there's stuff you can connect between the positive and negative ends of things that still pass the current along, but only so much so fast. We use those to make resistors, and those are handy because sometimes you don't want to put all the juice you have through something because it would damage it, and having a resistor anywhere along a path you're putting current through puts a cap on that flow, and also sometimes you might want a wire connected to positive or negative with a really strong resistor so it'll have SOME sort of default charge, but if we get a free(r) flowing connection attached to that wire somewhere else that opens sometimes, screw that little trickle going one way, we're leaning everyone the other way for now.

The other thing with electricity is is that the flow here isn't a basic yes/no thing. How enthusiastically those electrons are getting pulled depends on the difference in charge at the positive and negative ends, and also if you're running super long wires then even if they conduct real good, having all that space to spread along is going to kinda slow things to a trickle, AND the whole thing is kinda going to have some inherent bounciness to it both because we're dealing with electrons whipping and spinning all over and because, since it's a property that's actually useful for a lot of things we do with electricity, the power coming out of the wall has this intentional wobbly nature because we've actually got this ridiculous spinny thing going on that's constantly flip flopping which prong of the socket is positive and which is negative and point is we get these sine waves of strength by default, and they kinda flop over if we're going really far.

Of course there's also a lot of times when you really want to not have your current flow flickering on and off all the time, but hey fortunately one of the first neat little electronic components we ever worked out are capacitors... and look, I'm going to be straight with you. I don't really get capacitors, but the basic idea is you've got two wires that go to big wide plates, and between those you have something that doesn't conduct the electricity normally, but they're so close the electromagnetic fields are like vibing, and then if you disconnect them from the flow they were almost conducting and/or they get charged to their limit, they just can't deal with being so charged up and they'll bridge their own gap and let it out. So basically you give them electricity to hold onto for a bit then pass along, and various sizes of them are super handy if you want to have a delay between throwing a switch and having things start doing their thing, or keeping stuff going after you break a connection, or you make a little branching path where one branch connects all regular and the other goes through a capacitor, and the electricity which is coming in in little pulses effectively comes out as a relatively steady stream because every time it'd cut out the capacity lets its charge go.

We don't just have switches, we have potentiometers.

OK, so... all of the above is just sort of about having a current and maybe worrying about how strong it is, but other than explaining how you can just kinda have main power rails running all over, and just hook stuff across them all willy-nilly rather than being forced to put everything in one big line, but still, all you can do with that is turn the whole thing on and off by breaking the circuit. Incidentally, switches, buttons, keys, and anything else you use to control the behavior of any electronic device really are just physically touching loose wires together or pulling them apart... well wait no, not all, this is a good bit to know.

None of this is actually pass/fail, really, there's wave amplitudes and how big a difference we have between the all. So when you have like, a volume knob, that's a potentiometer, which is a simple little thing where you've got your wire, it's going through a resistor, and then we have another wire we're scraping back and forth along the resistor, using a knob, usually, and the idea is the current only has to go through X percent of the resistor to get to the wire you're moving, which proportionately reduces the resistance. So you have like a 20 volt current, you've got a resistor that'll drop that down to 5 or so, but then you move this other wire down along and you've got this whole dynamic range and you can fine tune it to 15 or 10 or whatever coming down that wire. And what's nice about this again, what's actually coming down the wire is this wobbily wave of current, it's not really just "on" or "off, and as you add resistance, the wobble stays the same, it's just the peaks and valleys get closer to being just flat. Which is great if you're making, say, a knob to control volume, or brightness, or anything you want variable intensity in really.

Hey hey, it's a relay!

Again, a lot of the earliest stuff people did with electronics was really dependent on that analog wobbly waveform angle. Particularly for reproducing sound, and particularly the signals of a telegraph. Those had to travel down wires for absurd distances, and as previously stated, when you do that the signal is going to eventually decay to nothing. But then someone came up with this really basic idea where every so often along those super long wires, you set something up that takes the old signal and uses it to start a new one. They called them relays, because you know, it's like a relay race.

If you know how an electromagnet works (something about the field generated when you coil a bunch of copper wire around an iron core and run an electric current through it), a relay is super simple. You've got an electromagnet in the first circuit you're running, presumably right by where it's going to hit the big charged endpoint, and that magnetically pulls a tab of metal that's acting as a switch on a new circuit. As long as you've got enough juice left to activate the magnet, you slam that switch and voom you've got all the voltage you can generate on the new line.

Relays don't get used too much in other stuff, being unpopular at the time for not being all analog and wobbily (slamming that switch back and forth IS going to be a very binary on or off sorta thing), and they make this loud clacking noise that's actually just super cool to hear in devices that do use them (pinball machines are one of the main surviving use cases I believe) but could be annoying in some cases. What's also neat is that they're a logical AND gate. That is, if you have current flowing into the magnet, AND you have current flowing into the new wire up to the switch, you have it flowing out through the far side of the switch, but if either of those isn't true, nothing happens. Logic gates, to get ahead of myself a bit, are kinda the whole thing with computers, but we still need the rest of them. So for these purposes, relays re only neat if it's the most power and space efficient AND gate you have access to.

Oh and come to think of it, there's no reason we need to have that magnet closing the circuit when it's doing its thing. We could have it closed by default and yank it open by the magnet. Hey, now we're inverting whatever we're getting on the first wire! Neat!

Relay computers clack too loud! Gimme vacuum tubes!

So... let's take a look at the other main thing people used electricity for before coming up with the whole computer thing, our old friend the light bulb! Now I already touched a bit on the whole wacky alternating current thing, and I think this is actually one of the cases that eventually lead to it being adopted so widely, but the earliest light bulbs tended to just use normal direct current, where again, you've got the positive end and the negative end, and we just take a little filament of whatever we have handy that glows when you run enough of a current through it, and we put that in a big glass bulb and pump out all the air we can, because if we don't, the oxygen in there is probably going to change that from glowing a bit to straight up catching on fire and burning immediately.

But, we have a new weird little problem, because of the physics behind that glowing. Making something hot, on a molecular level, is just kinda adding energy to the system so everything jitters around more violently, and if you get something hot enough that it glows, you're getting it all twitchy enough for tinier particles to just fly the hell off it. Specifically photons, that's the light bit, but also hey, remember, electrons are just kinda free moving and whipping all over looking for their naked proton pals... and hey, inside this big glass bulb, we've got that other end of the wire with the more positive charge to it. Why bother wandering up this whole coily filament when we're in a vacuum and there's nothing to get in the way if we just leap straight over that gap? So... they do that, and they're coming in fast and on elliptical approaches and all, so a bunch of electrons overshoot and smack into the glass on the far side, and now one side of every light bulb is getting all gross and burnt from that and turning all brown and we can't have that.

So again, part of the fix is we switched to alternating current so it's at least splitting those wild jumps up to either side, but before that, someone tried to solve this by just... kinda putting a backboard in there. Stick a big metal plate on the end of another wire in the bulb connected to a positive charge, and now OK, all those maverick electrons smack into here and aren't messing up the glass, but also hey, this is a neat little thing. Those electrons are making that hop because they're all hot and bothered. If we're not heating up the plate they're jumping to, and there's no real reason we'd want to, then if we had a negative signal over on that side... nothing would happen. Electrons aren't getting all antsy and jumping back.

So now we have a diode! The name comes because we have two (di-) electrodes (-ode) we care about in the bulb (we're just kind of ignoring the negative one), and it's a one way street for our circuit. That's useful for a lot of stuff, like not having electricity flow backwards through complex systems and mess things up, converting AC to DC (when it flips, current won't flow through the diode so we lop off the bottom of the wave, and hey, we can do that thing with capacitors to release their current during those cutoffs, and if we're clever we can get a pretty steady high).

More electrodes! More electrodes!

So a bit after someone worked out this whole vacuum tube diode thing, someone went hey, what if it was a triode? So, let's stick another electrode in there, and this one just kinda curves around in the middle, just kinda making a grate or a mesh grid, between our hot always flowing filament and that catch plate we're keeping positively charged when it's doing stuff. Well this works in a neat way. If there's a negative charge on it, it's going to be pushing back on those electrons jumping over, and if there's a positive charge on it, it's going to help pull those electrons over (it's all thin, so they're going to shoot right past it, especially if there's way more of a positive charge over on the plate... and here's the super cool part- This is an analog thing. If we have a relatively big negative charge, it's going to repel everything, if it's a relatively big positive, it's going to pull a ton across, if it's right in the middle, it's like it wasn't even in there, and you can have tiny charges for all the gradients in between.

We don't need a huge charge for any of this though, because we're just helping or hindering the big jump from the high voltage stuff, and huh, weren't we doing this whole weak current controlling a strong current thing before with the relay? We were! And this is doing the same thing! Except now we're doing it all analog style, not slapping switch with a magnet, and we can make those wavy currents peak higher or lower and cool, now we can have phone lines boost over long distances too, and make volume knobs, and all that good stuff.

The relay version of this had that cool trick though where you could flip the output. Can we still flip the output? We sure can, we just need some other toys in the mix. See we keep talking about positive charges and negative charges at the ends of our circuits, but these are relative things. I mentioned way back when how you can use resistors to throttle how much of a current we've got, so you can run two wires to that grid in the triode. One connects to a negative charge and the other positive, with resistors on both those lines, and a switch that can break the connection on the positive end. If the positive is disconnected, we've got a negative charge on the grid, since it's all we've got, but if we connect it, and the resistor to the negative end really limits flow, we're positive in the section the grid's in. And over on the side with the collecting plate, we branch off with another resistor setup so the negative charge on that side is normally the only viable connection for a positive, but when we flip the grid to positive, we're jumping across the gap in the vacuum tube, and that's a big open flow so we'll just take those electrons instead of the ones that have to squeeze through a tight resistor to get there.

That explanation is probably a bit hard to follow because I'm over here trying to explain it based on how the electrons are actually getting pulled around. In the world of electronics everyone decided to just pretend the flow is going the other way because it makes stuff easier to follow. So pretend we have magical positrons that go the other way and if they have nothing better to do they go down the path where we have all the fun stuff further down the circuit lighting lights and all that even though it's a tight squeeze through a resistor, because there's a yucky double negative in the triode and that's worse, but we have the switch rigged up to make that a nice positive go signal to the resistance free promised land with a bonus booster to cut across, so we're just gonna go that way when the grid signal's connected.

Oh and you can make other sorts of logic circuits or double up on them in a single tube if you add more grids and such, which we did for a while, but not really relevant these days.

Cool history lesson but I know there's no relays or vacuum tubes in my computer.

Right, so the above things are how we used to make computers, but they were super bulky, and you'd have to deal with how relays are super loud and kinda slow, and vacuum tubes need a big power draw and get hot. What we use instead of either of those these days are transistors. See after spending a good number of years working out all this circuit flow stuff with vacuum tubes we eventually focused on how the real important thing in all of this is how with the right materials you can make a little juncture where current flows between a positive and negative charge if a third wire going in there is also positively charged, but if it's negatively charged we're pulling over. And turns out there is a WAY more efficient way of doing that if you take a chunk of good ol' middle of the electron road silicon, and just kinda lightly paint the side of it with just the tiniest amount of positive leaning and negative leaning elements on the sides.

Really transistors don't require understanding anything new past the large number of topics already covered here, they're just more compact about it. Positive leaning bit, negative leaning bit, wildcard in the middle, like a vacuum tube. Based on the concepts of pulling electrons around from chemistry, like a circuit in general. The control wire in the middle kinda works in just a pass-fail sort of way, like a relay. They're just really nice compared to the older alternatives because they don't make noise or have moving parts to wear down, you don't have to run enough current through them for metal to start glowing and the whole room to heat up, and you can make them small. Absurdly small. Like... need an electron microscope to see them small.

And of course you can also make an inverter super tiny like that, and a diode (while you're at it you can use special materials or phosphors to make them light emitting, go LEDs!) and resistors can get pretty damn small if you just use less of a more resistant material, capacitors I think have a limit to how tiny you can get, practically, but yeah, you now know enough of the basic fundamentals of how computers work to throw some logic gates together. We've covered how a relay, triode, or transistor function as an AND gate. An OR gate is super easy, you just stick diodes on two wires so you don't have messy backflow then connect them together and lead off there. If you can get your head around wiring up an inverter (AKA NOT), hey, stick one after an AND to get a NAND, or an OR to get a NOR. You can work out XOR and XNOR from there right? Just build 4 NANDs, pass input A into gates 1 and 2, B into 2 and 3, 2's output into 1 and 3, 1 and 3's output into 4 for a XOR, use NORs instead for a XNOR. That's all of them right? So now just build a ton of those and arrange them into a computer. It's all logic and math from there.

Oh right. It's... an absurd amount of logic and math, and I can only fit so many words in a blog post. So we'll have to go all...

CONTINUED IN PART 2!

Meanwhile, again, if you can spare some cash I'd really appreciate it.

#computers #computer science #history #electronics #education #relays #transistors #vacuum tubes

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airbendertendou · 1 month

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bts ft tokyorev !! jus something small to get me back into posting <3

[including : mikey, kokonoi, mitsuya, inupi + yuzuha]

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.

˚₊‧꒰ა 💌 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

— MiKEY! ♥︎ "me from the moon, you from the stars."

there you were again, as you always were. sipping from the sweetest drink you could stand, lips pursed around the straw. as you watched everyone else, mikey watched you.

this is where he first saw you before, too. before kazutora - before kanto - before all the tragedy. when he was still lingering on the cusp of sanity, mikey spotted you.

things were different now - he was different now. a nudge to his arm - takemichi nods in your direction with his chin. "now's your chance. like you always wanted."

a deep breath, and then he's standing in front of you. blinking at the stark white boots in your vision, you gaze up. like a halo, the sun shines around him, bouncing off of the grin mikey sends your way. you gulp down your drink, "sano. hello."

mikey's breath hitches in his throat as he stumbles out his own greeting. "what are you thinking about right now?"

you were starstuck, truthfully, seeing the boy you wanted to talk to for ages standing in front of you. you couldn't say that, though - it'd be embarrassing to admit your bashfulness of him.

"right now?" you purse your lips again and mikey hopes you don't see the trickle of color on his cheeks. "that... you look nice when you smile, sano."

"mikey," he corrects you. with another deep breath, he takes a seat to your left. "call me mikey. i'll call you [first name]."

˚₊‧꒰ა 💌 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

— KOKONOi! ♥︎ "all i know is how to love you."

being related to sanzu came with strange rules. you always had to stick by his side - always had to reassure him you were safe and happy. why he chose you and not senju - why he forbid you from speaking with takeomi - you'd never know.

maybe it had something to do with mikey preferring you over them as well.

whatever it was, it led you here. in a stormy, darkened apartment as your brother went in search of the haitani's. mikey was peering outside of the window longingly - he did that a lot, these days.

"want something to drink?" the voice causes you to stiffen, chills covering every inch of you. kokonoi glances your way, "it's chilly in here. want something warm?"

your body was on fire the longer he kept his attention on you, actually. shaking your head, you look down to break his gaze from you. koko shrugs as he stands, "suit yourself. want somethin', boss?"

everything after that echoes. being around kokonoi hajime was the biggest obstacle you've faced. seeing him around town was bad enough. now that he was at your brothers side? you were going to scream.

a steaming, pastel mug is held in front of you. koko sips from his own charcoal gray cup. "your fingers are shaking, liar."

gulping, your shaking fingers take the mug from koko with a shy, quiet thank you. even though he's still looking out of the window, you can see a smirk on mikey's face in the reflection. you wanted to throw the stupid mug his way.

˚₊‧꒰ა 💌 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

— MiTSUYA! ♥︎ "i want the you that wants me again."

a stalemate. that's where your relationship curently fell. he spent more time at work than with you - more time with everyone else. biting your lip to prevent tears, you dial his number again.

"i can't really talk right now," mitsuya says instead of a greeting. you remember when he would grin down at the phone when you called. remember when he would all you cutesy, almost cringey pet-names so often you'd forget your own name. he lets out a sigh, "did you need something?"

you forget everything you'd prepared to say. every accusation ; every fear ; every inch of begging to get him to stay. your lips part, "should we end it here?"

"huh?"

you look around the house you'd created together. the pictures you'd taken, the couch cushions and blankets you bought together. half-empty candles that hadn't been lit in months. your bottom lip wobbles as you speak through tears. "should we break up? this relationship doesn't seem happy anymore."

mitsuya stays silent. that seemingly answers for him. you nod slowly, wiping the tears that have trickled down your cheeks. "okay. i'll have my things packed before you're back." whenever that will be.

"don't," he sounds out of breath. mitsuya heaves in a breath that sounds like a sob. he lets out a cough, rustling in the background that he speaks over. "don't say that. don't do that. i'm- i'm coming home, okay? stay right there."

you decide over the dial tone if you'd still be home or not when he arrives.

˚₊‧꒰ა 💌 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

— iNUPi! ♥︎ "just one day, just one day."

jade eyes trail after you endlessly. you nod along to the beat of the song you're listening to, dusting here and there. catching his reflection in the tv, you smirk. "when you volunteered to help, seishu, i didn't think you'd mean just sitting there."

blinking, inupi shrugs as if he wasn't just imagining a sweet, domestic life with you. "you won't let me help."

you turn with a crinkled nose, "you don't clean things right!"

"that's not possible." his voice trails off so he can watch you again. your hips are movng to the music now as you shrug him off. inupi sighs, his chin falling to his hand as he gazes lovingly.

he could see it now. you'd both be a little older, in an apartment that didn't quite fit two people. you'd share the bathroom and the bed, helping wash each other's face and sharing soap when you ran out. you'd make dinner and breakfast together to complain about work or talk about the wild dreams he knew you had.

it was something he did and would probably always yearn for.

a press to his cheek causes his entire face to flame. you tap his nose with a mischiveous grin, going back to your cleaning. a galnce to your mirror shows a sticky residue on his cheek - one that matched the lipgloss you were wearing.

inupi blinks, "did you kiss me?"

"maybe!"

he springs up from his seat within a second as your laughter rings around the room. his own smile covers his face as he chases you. "shouldn't i reciprocate it? hey, get back here!"

˚₊‧꒰ა 💌 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

— YUZUHA! ♥︎ "to see you? to meet you?"

passing letters through her younger brother, secrets pressed in places you both passed - that was how you spoke with her now. since taiju knew - once he figured it out - he forbade his sister from any and every relationship.

especially if it was with you.

hakkai pants as he stops in front of you, creamsicle envelope in his hand. you could already smell yuzuha's perfume wafting from it - could envision the kiss marks she'd left on the pages. hakkai places his hands on his hips, "this is exhausting, you know?"

you glare his way, "tell your stupid brother to give yuzuha her phone back."

"you tell him!" hakkai looks around with wide, terrified eyes. "don't call him stupid, though."

scoffing, you peel the letter from his sweaty palms. "i'll end him if i need to. he's never met a scorned, pissed off lover before."

hakkai shivers, taking a miniscule step back away from you. "...you could take him, probably."

you dismiss him with a grin, ready to read every word yuzuha couldn't say to you.

˚₊‧꒰ა 💌 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

this was so fun i luv writing to music <3 thank you for reading, i hope you enjoyed!! if you’d like to be tagged, untagged in any tokyorev content, let me know ♥︎

🍓FOREVER TAGS : @star2fishmeg ♥︎

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airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.

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szuyiin · 5 months

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⠀⠀⠀⠀ ★ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ PJS : LEND A HAND !!

this is a work of fiction & contains: ╰ PAIRING: bff ! soft dom ! jay x fem ! sub ! reader ╰ GENRE: smut. f2l. uni au. non-idol au ╰ WORD COUNT: 10.1k ╰ SFW WARNINGS: food mentions & consumption, let me know if i missed anything :] ╰ NSFW WARNINGS are located under cut to prevent exposure to unwanted content. you are responsible for what you consume.

SZUYIIN'S NOTEPAD — happy birthday lovely :] (this is a repost from an old blog of mine, this piece is not stolen!) proof-skimmed.

if you enjoy, please consider reblogging my works!

-18'S & AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DNI, YOU WILL BE BLOCKED !!

ABOUT ★ GUIDELINES ★ MASTERLIST

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ★ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ NSFW WARNINGS !! ╰ use of pet names baby, angel, princess. praising. minimal dirty talk. slight teasing. fingering. protected penetrative sex. please let me know if i missed anything !!

the heavy weight of guilt that seemed to bind itself to your shoulders became more and more unbearable as you make your way down the dormitory’s hall, searching the wall for a very specific set of letters and numbers. although he told you that it would never be a bother to help you - that you could come to him for anything and everything - it didn’t change the fact you still felt as if he didn’t say it with full confidence.

you had always done your best to never take your friends’ kindness for granted, always ensuring you could do various tasks yourself or that you didn’t need the extra help with studying. but unfortunately, the front you put up to feign perfect diligence and organization was bound to fall over time.

you check your phone once more, ensuring that you were, in fact, at the correct dorm before bumping your knuckles against the wood no more than thrice, distinct enough for it to be heard by the dorm’s single inhabitant, but soft enough to not disturb his nearby neighbors.

taking a step back, you can hear a bit of rustling, adjusting your bag on your shoulder as you - in a rather panicked state - make sure you even look presentable; the harsh winds between the library and the dorms doing much more damage to your previously unwrinkled sweater than you could have predicted.

the lock undoes itself, and only a second later you see the familiar rectangular glasses of your beloved friend with a smile on his face; a gesture you are surely mirroring to him.

“hi, y/n,” he says, the corners of his mouth curling into a small cheshire-like smile as he opens his door wider. “come on in, you can set your things on my bed.”

in moments like these, you are thankful for jay's introverted ways. if he were to not value his alone time as much as he does currently, you might have had to introduce yourself to one - or possibly even more - residents in his living space.

you nod, following his instruction and slinging your bag off of your shoulder once you make it to his room, letting it sink into the grey comforter sprawled across his mattress. “so,” jay begins, catching your attention as you turn to face where he stands at his doorway. “what is it exactly you’re struggling with? or would you rather save that for later and just, y’know, relax, maybe,” he says, his own tone questioning but laid-back, allowing you the comfort of knowing he is content with either option.

“i think…” you begin to trail off, subconsciously sitting yourself upon his neatly made bed beside your bag, finding yourself wishing to stay there longer. “i think relax, if that’s alright.”

earning a nod, jay smiles fully, showing his teeth as his nose scrunches the smallest bit. “i could use a break from studying as well,” he concludes, making his way closer, grabbing your bag, and carefully placing it on his desk chair. “would you wanna watch something then? i’m sure there’s a new release that’ll distract us for a bit.”

you watch him grab a playstation controller from a mounted shelf and turn on the console before easing himself onto the bed next to you, legs dangling off the edge as you push yourself to lay against his headboard. booting up netflix, he joins you, back pressing against the dark leather frame with a sigh.

“genre?” he questions, turning to face you as you purse your lips into a straight line.

“i’m fine with anything, maybe something that’s like… calm? something that can help with the relaxing mood we want, y’know?” you suggest, earning a nod from jay as he returns his focus to the screen before you both.

scanning through the various movies available, you both settle for one, the controller now on his bedside table as he lifts the covers from under himself.

“i’m gonna use these, but if you want a blanket or anything i can go grab you one,” he offers, sliding his legs under the comforter as the first few scenes of the movie start to sound throughout the small dorm. “or if you’re comfortable with it, we can both use them," he lifts the edge of the comforter, offering you a space to slide in next to him if you wished to; you oblige.

thanking him, you turn back to the movie - trying your hardest to think what could have happened in the short moments you missed - as you find yourself falling deeper into the bed’s warm comfort.

it wasn’t a secret your friend had a difficult time standing up against lower temperatures, so it didn’t faze you much when he bunched up the comforter at his waist, creating a small pocket for his hands to reside in.

even with the distance between yourselves, you could feel some of his body heat radiating off of him, especially along your legs under the blanket where the heat was only amplified. truthfully, the longer the movie went on, the harder it was to keep track of whatever plot there was; something that didn’t go unnoticed by the man next to you.

“you okay?” he whispers, almost as if you two were in a theater rather than his dorm room. “you seem a little out of it, y/n.”

you nod and let an exhale slip through your nose, closing your eyes for a moment before nodding in jay's direction. “i’m fine,” you reassure, but the look jay gave you proved he didn’t believe you.

“i’ve known you for, what? two years now?”

“two and a half,” you interject, earning a shake of the head and a bashful smile.

“either way, i’ve known you long enough to know you aren’t telling me the truth,” grabbing the controller, he pauses the movie, hiking one leg up further to face you properly on the bed. “what’s goin' on?”

he always made it difficult for you to not come clean to him about how you’re feeling, his attentiveness always amazes you. you take a deep sigh, letting your head fall back against the headboard before you speak.

“uni’s just . . . been a lot,” you say, turning your head to the side to capture jay within your view, his eyes trained on your own; how they always were. “i’ve been feeling insecure about my studies, and even more now that exams are coming up. it’s all just been weighing down on me lately.”

while the words you spoke were truthful, it most definitely wasn’t the reason you were distracted during the movie - jay's soft gaze locking with your own isn’t helping the dull ache in your heart. he nods, turning to face the now freeze-frame of a scene on the screen while he thinks of a reply. you could practically see the cogs turning in his brain, wanting to offer you absolutely anything that could help with that insecure feeling you were succumbed to.

“is that why you wanted to come over and study?” he asks, and even though he already knew the answer, he found himself needing to hear you confirm it. when you nod, he hums in understanding.

“i think,” he begins, his hands freeing themselves from the comforter-cocoon they had occupied up until this moment, laying them atop his legs as the comforter lays below. “i think you need to consider how you feel outside of your workload. i’ve seen your agendas every now and then, and i’ll tell you, that’s a lot of shit for one person to do in the amount of time you’re given.

“i think you need to take off-days like this more often. allow yourself to be worry free for even just a few hours. let yourself recharge and, y’know, get that needed energy back,” he turns back to you, a soft smile on his face. you could tell he was trying his best to console you - an action that was admirable within itself. “maybe this is a sign that we should hang out again; watch movies together or go out more often.”

you chuckle, the sound of his soft, shy laughter accompanying your own. “maybe i should follow that sign, then,” you conclude. “thank you, jay.”

“you know that you don’t have to thank me,” he replies. “you’ve helped me many many times since we’ve known each other. the least i could do now is help you when i can.”

“you still deserve to be thanked.”

“if it helps you sleep at night, then you’re welcome. now-” he readjusts himself to face the television again, grabbing the controller. “are you actually interested in this movie? or should we do something else, 'cause i can not tell you a single thing that’s happened within the last, like, twenty minutes.”

you raise your brows, a smile playing on your lips. “what’s got you distracted? we talked about me; it’s your turn now.” jay lets out a deep laugh at your eager tone, shaking his head and letting his bangs fall over his eyes, still protected by his glasses.

“nothing to tell,” he shrugs, your eyes squinting at him in disbelief, causing him to laugh again. “just have some things on the mind.”

“school stuff?” you inquire, noting how he shakes his head negatively.

“nah,” he says. “just some other things.”

“jay,” you call. at the mention of his name - in a much more stern tone than you rather call him with - he turns to you once more. “you can talk to me, you know that right? like you said; you’ve helped me so many times, it’ll never be a bother to do the same for you. we’ve been friends for two and a half years-”

in the middle of speaking, you notice his gaze falter. how his brows lower a bit and how the curl at the corners of his lips straighten out just a tad.

“-so trust me when i say that you can count on me, always.”

although to yourself it felt as if you were preaching, you knew jay wasn’t getting that impression, seeming to hang on to the end of your sentence as he processed it all.

“i’ve been thinking a lot about my relationships with people. which ones are the most important to me, stuff like that,” he seems to mimic your exact actions as you had when explaining your internal dilemma - leaning his head against the headboard as he closes his eyes.

“don’t worry, though,” he starts again. “my relationship with you is one of the ones i value the most. i’ve grown to really appreciate what you do; i want to keep you in my life for as long as you want to be in it."

his words pull at your heartstrings, a soft yet prominent chill running up your body - subconsciously reaching your hand to grasp his within your own, your thumb running along the backs of his knuckles.

“jay,” you say, drawing out the last letter as he cranes his neck to see you, a small smile on your face at his kind words. “i want to be with you as long as i can be. our relationship is important to me, too.”

he smiles at your words, bringing his gaze down his lap and watching as your fingers begin to play with his, finding himself turning his hand palm-up and weaving his fingers with your own.

the atmosphere felt much more serene, jay getting off his chest what he’s been feeling for quite some time - even if it was incredibly indirect as well as disguised as a dilemma with every relationship rather than just the dynamic between you two.

with your vacant hand, you grab the controller, saying how you’ll choose the movie this time because you “have an eye for this kind of thing.” jay didn’t argue, he simply watched as you navigated through the movies on screen, and he could help the way his heartbeat increased watching you use the controller with only one hand in favor of keeping the other locked with his.

the air conditioning starting up stirred you awake - unbeknownst to you that you had even fallen asleep in the first place. the dull hum wasn’t the cause of you waking, but rather the gust of chill air that flooded the dorm at an alarming rate.

the movie you had selected was now complete, other recommendations on the dimmed screen, indicating it was close to going into sleep mode. you don’t bother to grab the controller from the other side of jay, seeing as he’s sound asleep as well and you don’t wish to disturb him.

sitting up slightly and angling yourself towards the window, you notice how a blanket of darkness seemed to envelope your campus, small stars peeking through and illuminating the otherwise black sky. although you had just woken up, the sight of the calm, serene city was enough to make your eyes droop, allowing yourself to lean back into the pillows, getting in a more comfortable position to sleep. surely jay wouldn’t mind me spending the night, right? you hope.

you lull yourself back to sleep, the warm embrace of the blankets being too welcoming to ignore. all is quiet until you hear a soft groan, followed by blankets shuffling beside yourself. realizing your own rustling might have woken up your friend, a pang of guilt slices at your chest, heart racing as adrenaline courses through you at the possible confrontation from a grumpy jay.

instead - and to your own shock - jay shuffles closer, perhaps chasing your body heat and pulls you to his side, one arm snaking under your waist while the other simply rests atop your stomach. the pressure was light, barely even there as your body stiffened under his touch.

he most definitely was unconscious - that was something you easily concluded by his even breathing against your shoulder; perhaps if you weren’t as taken aback by his sudden closeness, the soft rhythm would help aid you in your slumber. unfortunately for you, you were - in fact - taken aback; but not disappointed with his closeness - why you feel that way is something you would much rather address with yourself in time, even if the answer has always been at the forefront of your mind.

where his hands lay limp previously now are digging into the soft material of your sweater in an attempt to pull you closer; you knew he was just trying to get warmer, but the action still caused a heat to rise within you.

haphazardly, you try to help; maneuvering yourself onto your side facing him and wrapping your arms around jay without disturbance. thankfully, the plan proved to be successful, your body now pressed against his torso as your cheek rests on his chest.

his hands - with such natural instinct that it made your head spin - splayed across your back, fully extending his fingers to gather as much warmth as he can as well as keep you securely pressed to himself. his legs found their way tangled with your own, effectively trapping you against him.

you didn’t have it in you to readjust for three reasons. one: you knew he needed the warmth - his complaints about being cold so often and pulling his sweater sleeves over his palms as if it’s part of his daily routine being enough evidence of such. two: you didn’t wish to wake him, knowing that the mental strain he’s enduring is surely tiresome, not to mention his school workload and job on top of it all. and three - and while this one is incredibly selfish - you’ve always wanted to be this close and comfortable with him.

he’s never been a big physical touch person, at least not with you. and it sent an electric shock through you whenever he grabbed your hand to guide you somewhere or put a friendly arm around your shoulder. that same electric shock rose within you at this - albeit being much calmer now as time progresses forward.

with his gentle breathing and steady heartbeat against your ear, you feel your own begin to match his rhythm, falling back into a deep sleep while in the arms of the man you have been secretly pining over for the last few months.

when you finally awake once more, it’s to the sound of footsteps. the light shines through the window as you sit up, the blanket falling into your lap as you take in your surroundings - and most notably - the empty spot beside you.

your back arches as your arms stretch above your head, fishing your phone from your sweater pocket - that you happened to leave there, not expecting yourself to fall asleep or even spend the night at all - and noting the bright 8:14 AM on your screen.

reluctantly, you rise from jay's bed, feeling as your muscles adjust to being used after remaining idle for a few hours. smoothing your sweater, you waltz into the main room, hearing a noise from the small kitchen located within the dorm.

assuming it was jay, you proceed, prediction proving itself to be correct as he moves swiftly around the kitchen. he catches you standing in the doorway from the corner of his eye, his gaze landing on your slightly slouched form only a moment later.

“good morning, sleepyhead,” he beams, reaching into the cabinet to grab another mug and setting it beside his own. “coffee?”

you shake your head negatively. “i think i’ll just go for water right now, thank you, though.”

jay nods, instead moving to his fridge and pulling out a water pitcher and pouring it into your mug. after placing the pitcher back and handing your cup to you, he continues with making his beverage of choice.

slowly taking a sip, the cold drink jolts your senses awake - something you were quite thankful for in this moment, jay clearly ready to start his day while you’re still adjusting to the sudden light.

“did you sleep okay? i tried not to move too much once i woke up,” he says, giving you a side glance as he continues preparing his coffee. there wasn’t a grand distance between you two in the cramped kitchen, but enough to have small details slip past if you weren’t looking closely.

and closely you were certainly looking, taking in each hair that stuck out of place from moving in his sleep - and probably running his hands through the strands once he awoke - and how his face was still a bit puffy from sleeping; the most important to you was the faint blush that dusted over his cheeks. if it was due to his comment about you sleeping together or a natural morning flush, you were unsure.

if you were to be sure of one thing, though, it’d be how your stomach flipped seeing him with such a soft expression, naturally glowing as he slowly warmed up to the world around himself.

“i slept well,” you reply, eyes shifting away from him as you feel you’ve been staring too long for comfort. “i’m sorry for crashing here.”

“please,” he says, a sense of disbelief in his voice. “you’re always more than welcome to come over, and that includes impromptu sleepovers. it’s really no issue.

“you made the bed warmer, which is always a plus for me,” he adds, finally taking a sip from his perfectly prepared coffee and sighing in content, turning to lean his lower back against the end of the small countertop.

your cheeks heat up at his comment, confirmation that - at the very least - he enjoyed having you there with him and that close. you both drink in silence, choosing to not disturb the calm atmosphere you found yourself in while you enjoy your morning together. as the sun rises, natural light floods the dorm, proving there to be no need for artificial lighting as the day grows.

it felt pleasant on your skin, warmth from the blanket of light that shone down on the both of you; you were content. in your moments of thought, you fail to notice how jay had flicked his gaze toward you, watching with a delicate smile on his face as you slowly came-to.

it was rare he got to see you in such a state, always having changed your appearance in some way from when you woke up once you met him on campus. it was a pleasant change; a change he thought he wouldn’t mind getting used to.

“we should do sleepovers more often,” he suddenly breaks the silence, voice no louder than necessary to address you from a few feet away. “i can take the couch next time, though.”

“you know i would never make you sleep on the couch, jay,” you correct, a half-smile on your lips as he chuckles.

“is that you agreeing to more sleepovers?”

you take a second to ponder on the offer, knowing very well that whatever you currently felt for your best friend would only grow with each night you spend with him. in the middle of your thought, you are forced back to the night prior when jay had confided in you about how he viewed your relationship with one another.

“my relationship with you is one of the ones i value the most. i’ve grown to really appreciate what you do; i want to keep you in my life for as long as you want to be in it.”

you smile softly at the memory, and with an - albeit hesitant - nod, you smile at him. “i think i am.”

if you had known previously how torturous it would be to be next to jay every night, you don’t think you would have agreed to spend every second of your depleting days with him.

he was in no way treating you poorly - it was actually the exact opposite - and that is precisely what made the whole ordeal torturous. showing up only for there to be an extra plate of food for you, even if you didn’t announce your arrival to him (he just knew). whenever he started keeping skin care products in his bathroom, going out of his way to buy new ones specifically for when you stayed over instead of having you bring yours every time. when he cleared out an entire section of his closet and dresser for you to fit your clothes into so you wouldn’t have to keep borrowing his - even if you loved wearing them and he loved seeing you in them.

it’s only been a month and a half since you began staying over a few nights each week, and you could very much feel yourself growing more fond of your friend - the most difficult part was the internalized feeling that it was all one-sided.

you take a deep breath, swallowing the food jay had ordered in for you both before leaning back in your seat. the air wasn’t awkward, but there was a certain tension that lingered, and that was surely to be one-sided as jay continued with his meal, seemingly unbothered.

poking and prodding at the take-out with your utensils, jay speaks up. “are you finished?” he asks, standing and reaching his hand out to take your plate if you chose to give it to him.

“thank you, jay,” you say, handing him the dish as he abandons his own half-eaten plate in favor of washing yours - always a gentleman. in truth, it became harder and harder to be subjected to his kindness, your intoxicated brain taking each gesture as reciprocated feelings; something you know you should not do.

you make your way over to him, fully intending to hug him goodbye when he places the plate in the sink, switching off the faucet, turning around - and with, unfortunately, wet hands - places them on your shoulders to halt your movement.

“why the sudden change of heart? was it the food or me?” his eyes show nothing but pure worry; worry that he had crossed a line he didn’t know was present. although he was right; it technically was because of him, you couldn’t bring yourself to panic him further.

“just not super in the mood to be around anyone, is all. you didn’t do anything, jay,” you reply, and where you had hoped to see the distress dissipate into relief, the concern remained prominent. his sentences are hushed, as if he was scared to even speak them into existence but knew it was something he must do.

“is it something i didn’t do?”

most certainly not, you think. he’s doing everything he should be doing - but he’s doing everything he should be doing for a significant other.

from the way you hesitated to answer, jay concluded it was something he had failed to do. it was obvious that whatever it was, you wished to not speak of it, so he wanted to remedy what he could with what little information he knew.

“is there any way i can fix it?” he asks, voice sincere and pain evident in his tone; the thought makes you gulp.

you’re awfully aware of his close proximity now, hands on your shoulders and keeping you close to him, as if he’s afraid you would vanish; much like how he held you the night before you started staying over and all the times that followed.

“i think i…” you begin, tongue trying to string along any line of words to ease his anxiousness - only a simple sentence comes to mind.

“i think i’m starting to blur the lines with you, and i don’t think that’s something you’d want. . . with me,” you finally breathe out, expecting some kind of weight to be lifted because of your half-confession, but instead you’re met with intense eyes staring back at you and your heart beating against your chest.

he remains gentle, never letting his fingers dig into your clothing or his voice go over a volume necessary - the exact gentleness he’s always granted you with. you’re almost shocked when his lips begin to curl, the corners of his eyes wrinkling and his nose scrunching as he smiles.

“can you be more specific for me?” he asks, now one dry hand - which one-hundred-percent soaked water into your shirt - sliding up to rest against the side of your neck, thumb tracing along your skin while the other remains in its place. “what ‘line’ are you referencing?”

his tone shifted from caring to teasing in a matter of seconds once he picked up on the implications of your words, something that caused your heart to race and pulse quicken; jay could feel such under his palm.

“like the. . . the line with us. the line between friends and. . .” you take a second to finally break your gaze away from him, now offering you a close-mouthed smile as he watches you pick at your brain. “something more.”

“more?” he questions, but from the look in his eyes, you knew he understood what you meant. “i see,” he says, causing your gaze to catch his once more. “you’re upset with what i did do, because i’m treating you like the princess you deserve to be treated as,” his hand raises from your shoulder to cup your cheek, the other staying planted directly above your pulse point, feeling as it rises and falls. “but you’re also upset with what i didn’t do, because i never made anything official with you - said where i stood with. . . us,” with raised brows, he questions you further, hitting the mark directly. “is that right?”

hesitantly, you nod, his hand moving along with your head at the motion. his smile only widens, causing an ache in your chest for a reason you can’t quite name. was he laughing at you or did he feel the same way?

as if sensing your worry, he fills the silence again. “i don’t know if you just hadn’t realized or never took the time to think you’re more than special to me,” he begins, his eyes tracing over each and every feature on your face, as if he’d like to keep the memory of you looking at him forever. “but i don’t treat even my best-est of friends the way i treat you.

“the place you are in my heart- hell, even in my thoughts, isn’t where the rest of my friends are. you’ve taken over your own little spot, and i let you,” he concludes, and while it all sounded sweet, your brain desperately needed something more direct.

“can i kiss you, y/n?” his words shatter your thoughts, pulling you back to reality; pulling you back into your current position of being held in his hands. “i promise i wanted to confess in a way much more personal but- i don’t think i could have gone much longer without telling you. not when you’re here with me, like this.”

nodding, your eyes meet his - finding hesitance within jay's. “can you say it, please?”

the sudden questions causes your skin to heat, and he can feel the warmth travel up your neck and face; something he found comforting.

“jay, please kiss me,” you whisper, and it only takes a single moment longer till you feel his lips on yours. he was gentle, instead of pulling you to him with the hands he had on your form, he stepped forward to lean into you. his lips were slightly chapped, the partially rough texture of his lips a harsh contrast to the soft hold he had.

his lips move along yours, thumbs dancing along your cheek and neck as if to ground you - and grounding is something you very much needed in this exact moment. when you lean into him more, you can feel as he holds back a smile, pulling away for only a moment to fully express his happiness that he couldn’t hold back before quickly pecking your lips again.

“i can’t believe how dense you are,” he chuckles, watching as your brows furrow and an incredibly small pout forms on your face. “did you really think i felt nothing for you? after the months we’ve been sharing a bed and after the years i’ve known you?”

the question was rhetorical, you knew that. but still, you pushed up any courage you could muster to provide him an answer. “never thought you’d fall for me, to be fair.”

“y/n,” he says, a sudden sternness to his voice that has you frozen in place, yet still soft to let you know he wasn’t going to scold you. “i wish you could see yourself the way i see you.”

his eyes are full of sincerity and love. he views you as someone he loves.

with a sudden rush of adrenaline, your fists grab at the neckline of his shirt, haphazardly pulling him forward to capture his lips again. he doesn’t protest, he allows you to kiss him with need - he returns the gesture with the same amount of want.

his hands drop to your sides, grabbing at your sweater - the wrinkles that formed from your daily activities still present, and jay's grip on the fabric does little to dismiss them. he shifts from handling the sweater to latching on harder to your form desperately as your lips continue to move against one another.

“y/n-” he groans, your name coming out muffled as he couldn’t bring himself to pull away long enough to get a proper sentence out.

you whine, wordlessly telling him to continue. reluctantly, he parts just an inch so he can see you properly; see your lips swollen and how your pupils are blown out. “i promise i wanted to take it slow with you, i don’t want to rush this-”

“don’t you think we’ve been taking it slow already?” you interrupt, watching his brows raise the smallest bit at your interjection. he can’t find it in himself to disagree, bringing back your point about how the lines are definitely blurred, and have been for a while now.

“well. . .” he trails off, gaze loving as he watches you dangle off of every word he speaks, waiting for what’s next. “maybe we don’t have to take it that slow anymore.” his hands remain where they were planted against your clothes, massaging the fabric and skin beneath his fingers.

with ease, he turns you around, your lower back resting against the edge of the countertop as he tilts your head back - trailing kisses from the corner of your mouth to your jaw, then to the exposed expanse of your neck.

it only takes a few lingering pecks until your palms are pressed against his chest, allowing yourself to be at his will while he continues to kiss and bite, never enough to leave a mark.

“are you okay with this?” he asks, his warm breath fanning over your damp skin. you nod, earning a small exhale from jay. “from now on i want verbal answers, okay?”

you caught yourself before you could nod, muttering a small ‘yes’ in reply.

“yes to which? yes you’ll give verbal answers or yes you’re okay with this?”

“both.”

the simple response earns you a smile, a tender kiss to your lips, and his hands grabbing at your waist once more. “as much as i don’t want to waste a second, i think we’d be much more comfortable not in the kitchen.”

and so, you push him forward, freeing yourself from being trapped between him and the counter before you both make your way back into his room. almost instantly, he pulls you towards his bed, sitting you down so you could look up at him - his hand connects with your cheek once more, admiring you.

he leans down to peck your lips a single time before diving in again, kissing you feverishly and holding the back of your head in his palm to angle your lips towards himself. jay's right knee slots itself between your thighs and presses into the mattress, leaning forward, and holding himself up with his vacant hand.

you gasp slightly into his mouth as you wrap your arms around his neck so you don’t fall completely backwards, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue alongside yours, an appreciative hum escaping him as you tilt your head. his hold remains gentle, only moving to lower you completely to his bed before his hands travel to your sides.

“can i take this off, baby?” jay asks, voice soft and pet name falling from his lips as if it was the most natural thing he could address you with, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt.

“yeah, but. . .” you start, quickly losing confidence when you feel his fingertips dance along the skin of your midsection - hands hidden under the material of your sweater he has yet to lift.

“would you want me to take mine off first?” he asks, eyebrows raised and glasses slowly falling down the slope of his nose from the downward angle he was positioned in.

“yes, please,” without hesitance, he smiles, pecking your nose before obliging. he lifts the garment easily, tossing it onto his desk chair and straightening his posture in front of you. from this angle, he looked ethereal; kneeling between your legs with exposed skin close enough for you to run your hands over.

he reaches for his pants next, sliding down the black sweats with ease before tossing them with his shirt. “is this okay?” he asks again, hands returning to their place just underneath the hem of your sweater.

“yes,” you say softly, a gasp soon following as the garment is lifted slowly, feeling jay's knuckles running against your skin as he discards the clothing, letting it join his own on the floor.

“so beautiful,” he notes, almost as if he was speaking to himself before dipping lower, the muscles under his skin dancing with his movements as he plants his hands on either side of your head, lips connecting to the underside of your jaw. instinctively, your hands grab onto the skin of his torso, massaging it under your fingers and feeling each muscle contract as he maneuvers his way lower to kiss at your collarbones.

leveling himself, he trails his hands down to slide underneath your back, making quick work of unclasping your bra and sliding the straps down your shoulders - his hands were delicate and soft with their movements. he lifts his form for only a moment to gaze down at you - looking absolutely stunning laid out on his bed before him.

“you’re even more perfect than i could have dreamed of,” he breathes out, almost as if he was in disbelief you were real; your body warms at the compliment. “just- just look at you. . .”

you watch as his hands move across your skin, fingers rubbing and gripping your waist and hips; it was only then you noticed the tent in his boxers. “jay-” you whine, the sight enough to make you want to pounce on him.

“yeah, baby?” he asks. the vulgar request stayed lodged in your throat, wanting so desperately to be released but you didn’t have the courage to do so. jay seemed to have caught onto this quickly, and you almost felt embarrassed with how easily he read you. “is the princess getting needy?”

yes, you thought, but you couldn’t bring yourself to admit it. jay chuckled, watching as your back arches at the question, his hands holding onto your hips to keep you against the bed. “it’s okay, i’ll give you everything you want,” he says, voice low as his lips curl into a smile. “but first, we still have to get you ready, okay? can i take these off, too?”

quickly giving him permission, he grins as he takes off your pants, not failing to see the wet patch that formed on the bridge of your panties. “oh? i’ve barely done anything and you’re already dripping for me, huh?

“you’re so cute, princess,” he leans down to whisper in your ear, vacant hand grabbing the inside of your thigh to pull your legs further apart. “getting all worked up over some words and little touches.”

two of his long fingers press onto your core, rubbing up and down slowly and nipping at your neck; this time, with the intention to leave a mark on you. you let out a gasp as his fingers catch your clit for just a moment, and you feel as he pulls away from your neck to look at your face - eyes closed and mouth slightly open; you looked beautiful to him.

his opposite hand grabs your jaw softly, prompting you to open your eyes to meet him, fingers now having left your core in favor of rubbing his thumb soothingly along your hip. “are you sure you want this?” he asks, and the thought made your heart swell.

“yes, please. wanted it for so long, jay,” you say, brows furrowing as he beams.

“is that right?” he replies rhetorically, a pleased expression on his face as he looks back down, the hold on your jaw never faltering. “want me to take these off?”

“please-” you beg; music to jay's ears. “don’t wanna wait anymore-”

“i know, baby,” he says, making quick work - well, as quick as he could with a singular hand - to remove your last piece of clothing, leaving you completely bare for him. his fingers reconnect with your naked core, eliciting a small moan from you. “but i still need to prep you a bit, okay? don’t wanna hurt you.”

you nod in understanding as he lets go of your chin, running two fingers between your folds to coat his digits in your slick. he starts slowly, thumb circling your clit to get you more relaxed to take him, before slowly pushing his coated fingers inside.

his eyes are trained on your face, grabbing your hand within his own to help ground you and subside any pain or discomfort you may feel at the initial push. you wince slightly, brows furrowing as jay shushes you softly, thumb brushing over your knuckles.

“shh, baby, it’s okay. you’re doing so, so well for me,” he whispers - you can feel as he slowly starts scissoring the two digits inside your core, the sensation pleasurable. “gonna add a third, okay?”

“y-yeah,” you stutter out, and in any other scenario rather than this one, you think you’d smack yourself out of embarrassment; with jay, you were comfortable.

slowly, he pulls his fingers from you, slotting a third one alongside the previous and delving them back in gently. his pace is slow, easing you up to the intrusion and making sure you stay comforted knowing he was there.

“there we go,” he rasps. “are you ready, baby?” jay says with care laced in his tone, fingers never slowing the pace he had set previously as he rubs against your walls.

“mhm,” you hum, eyes closed while he pulls away fully for only a moment to discard himself of his boxers, quickly grabbing a condom from his bedside table drawer. tearing it open carefully, he slides it onto his cock, now finally free from its confinements.

you don’t have half the brain to gawk at him - something that may be playing in your favor at the moment while he returns to his spot over you. with one hand by your head and the other holding his cock, he teases your core with his tip, gathering what he can of your essence.

the initial prod at your entrance wasn’t painful - you hadn't exactly been able to look and see how big he was and if you would be able to handle it - but you could tell he was being hesitant, as if he knew he had the potential to hurt you. your eyebrows knit together, the sudden warmth pushing inside you enough to render you speechless while your hands find purchase on his shoulders.

“does it hurt, baby?” he asks softly, halting his movements until you reply - watching as your naked chest rises and falls with the rhythm of your breathing.

“n-no, jay, feel-s so good,” you manage to get out, your closed eyes guarding you from seeing the smirk that grew on jay's lips. “please, wan’ more, please.”

“oh,” he replies, his tone slightly condescending as his hand raises to cup your cheek, the action causing you to open your eyes and finally see the shit-eating grin he’s been sporting for who knows how long. “anything for you, angel.”

he gives you more, pushing his cock deeper and deeper until you feel completely full, his hips pressed to the back of your thighs while his hands drag down your body, stopping at your waist. “let me know when i can move.”

the stretch had a small sting rise within your abdomen - as the pain slowly subsided, you don’t fail to notice how jay's breathing hitches when you tighten around him suddenly. still, he keeps his composure, being careful to not move a muscle so you could get used to the intrusion.

you squirm slightly, back rising from the bed and chest meeting his - the movement making the man above you groan. “please move, baby,” you plead, voice coming out much more pathetic and desperate than you would have liked it to be.

with a hint of hesitance, he pulls his hips back and pushes forward once more, a heavy sigh leaving his beautiful lips as he soaks in the feeling of you around him. “fuck. . .” he gasps, mouth hanging open as he leans down, attacking your neck with kisses and bites, sucking at the skin. “look so pretty with my cock stuffed in you.”

he sets a steady pace, slow enough to be comfortable for you but quick enough to have you seeing stars, as well as let you know just how desperate he was - how much he wanted you. you could feel him everywhere; the tip of his cock pressing deep inside you, rubbing against your g-spot and kissing your cervix with each thrust. his hands desperately grabbing at your torso while his lips nipped at the sensitive spots on your neck - he was everywhere, clouding every single one of your senses.

you could hear his heavy breathing in your ear, chest heaving against yours as his breath fans the junction of your neck and shoulder, leaving sloppy kisses behind while his thrusts pick up. you barely register how one of his hands travels to where you’re connected because of the cotton your brain had turned into at jay's advancements - his thumb circling your clit with ease due to your slick.

a broken cry sounds within his room, begs of 'please' and 'more' falling from your lips as he increases the pressure of his digit. “you’re just fallin’ apart, aren’t you,” he mumbles into your skin, raising his head just enough to lock eyes with you, pupils blown wide and sporting a grin. “such a pretty thing, takin’ all of me so, so well.”

your hand flies to his hair, grabbing at the nape of his neck to guide his lips to yours, feeling the vibrations of his groans against your lips. he feels you tighten around him, brushing his tongue against your lips and granting him access - he seems to care less about being neat.

pulling away to catch his breath, he sees the mixed saliva coating your lips, most likely his as well. he smiles down at you, thumb picking up speed along with his hips as you mewl. “you close, angel? gonna cum for me?” you nod quickly, breath feeling like it was being knocked out of you with each pointed thrust he delivered, the pressure on your insides causing a tight coil to form in your abdomen. “c’mon baby, wanna hear you, remember?”

“g-gonna cum, jay- please, ‘m so so cl-lose,” you gasp, closing your eyes as you teeter on the edge of your impending orgasm. you hear him chuckle, the sound of skin slapping accompanying his honey voice at it fills the air around you both.

“let go, angel, i got you. cum for me.”

it was so simple, and you never took yourself as someone who could finish just by hearing someone tell you to. but as you gasp jay’s name, drag your nails across the soft skin of his back and arch your own - you found yourself capable of something you didn’t even think possible.

maybe it was the sting of the sudden marks that lined the expanse of his back or the way you sounded so desperate to cum that pushed him over the edge, or perhaps even the way all of his senses were flooded by you: hearing your calls for him, feeling you clench around his cock, watching your face contort as you finish, tasting you on his tongue and the smell of sex that now fills the room. you were everywhere - and he’d have it no other way.

“ ‘m almost there, jus’ a little longer,” jay breathes, pulling his hands to grab at your hips, chasing his high - and with a breathy moan of your name - he spills his seed into the condom, shallowly thrusting through his orgasm.

he manages to keep himself steady, muscles aching as he holds himself up to prevent falling on top of you. catching your breath gradually, you wince when he pulls out.

“sorry,” he whispers out an apology, and if you had the energy in you, you’d tell him he has absolutely nothing to apologize for. closing your eyes, you hear his footsteps getting farther and farther away until they appear again, and this time, he kneels next to the bed where your head is.

“hey, y/n,” he whispers, not wishing to startle you with his sudden presence - you could practically hear the soft grin on his face. “let’s get you cleaned up, okay? then we can rest.”

you gather whatever energy you had left to give him a small nod, easing yourself up onto your elbows - with jay's support - and pulling yourself off the bed, trudging your way to his bathroom. “go to the bathroom, i’ll get you some fresh clothes and water,” he assures, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as he makes his way back to his room.

you do as he asked of you, deciding to splash your face with water once you were finished. as if he never left, jay was back at your side, fresh clothes in his hands along with a glass of water. “put these on, then don’t leave this room until you finish this glass, okay?” he asks, stern voice laced with care. “can you walk alright?”

you reassure him you can walk completely fine even though you were leaning against the bathroom counter for support; a smile spreads across his lips. “meet me in my room once you’re done, okay?” with those final words, he pecks your lips, allowing you some privacy to change - as if he didn’t just see you nude. always a gentleman.

you don’t take long, halting for a moment to smile and admire how he brought you his shirt and sweats instead of your own, despite them being in the same dresser. slipping them on and quickly gulping down the water, you shut off the light and - slowly - make your way back to his room.

he greets you with a smile, scanning your outfit before welcoming you into his arms, pulling you into the bed with him. “how are you feeling?” he asks, fingers stroking along the fabric of his shirt as it lays against your back.

“good. sleepy,” you reply, eyes already drooping from the exhaustion you feel.

“let’s rest, then,” with a kiss to your cheek and another to your lips, he brings the covers over you both, tucking you away within his chest and legs tangling with yours to ensure you stay locked within his embrace throughout the night - he doesn’t believe he’ll get cold with you beside him and the warm feeling fluttering in his chest.

a delightful aroma fills the dorm, waking your senses up one-by-one, the final being your sight as your eyes pry open. rubbing at them with the tips of your fingers, you slowly adjust to the light that beamed through the bedroom window, illuminating the rest of the space with its warm glow.

easing your way out of the bed, you notice the vacant spot next to you. concluding jay was then the cause of the aroma, you rise from your place. stretching your arms above you and letting out a pleased sigh, you make your way through the cracked bedroom door.

the scent only becomes more prominent as you navigate your way through the dorm, hearing sizzling and soft humming from the kitchen. you stand at the entrance, following jay's every movement as he makes his way around the space, preparing a meal - usually, you’d feel selfish assuming the food was also for yourself, but you’ve come to learn that jay always cooks with you in mind.

he seems to not know of your presence - you never making any effort to show yourself in favor of watching him work diligently. and while you would have thought you were able to fool him - not making a single sound to hide your company - jay knew all too well that your eyes were on him; choosing to feign obliviousness for your own entertainment.

turning, he acts surprised, lifting himself on his toes to fake as if he was shocked by your appearance in the kitchen. “good morning, y/n,” he says, mustering up his voice the best he could to make himself seem startled. “i didn’t know you were there.”

he was never very good at lying.

“yeah, and i couldn’t smell this from the bedroom,” you say sarcastically, smiling as you approach him. he has no hesitance in pressing a kiss to your forehead, your smile mirrored on his own features once he pulls away.

“it’ll all be ready in a few minutes,” he says, returning his attention to the cooking food before nodding his head in the direction of some filled mugs. “i didn’t know what you’d want - there’s coffee, tea, and water for you to choose from. . .”

“you made every option?” you question, half in disbelief.

“well, yeah- i didn’t wanna wake you,” he says sweetly. although it wouldn’t have bothered you much to be woken up by him, it was proven difficult to be mad at him when his heart was in a good place.

you don’t reply, only pursing your lips before selecting which drink you’d prefer, taking the mug into your hands and taking a sip, basking in its taste with a content sigh.

jay smiles to himself, pleased with your reaction to such a simple drink. grabbing plates from the cupboard above himself, he carefully prepares both of your breakfasts - handing you yours with utensils, you both hastily make your way to the dining room, ready to enjoy your meal together.

“thank you, jay,” you say, pleased with the small assortment of food he was able to prepare.

“of course,” the smile never leaves his lips, not even when he’s taking a sip of his own drink or chewing his food - and most definitely not when he watches you eat what he had made.

your eyes widened, not necessarily because you thought jay wasn't able to cook, but more so by the fact that he always wanted to get take-out when you came over. “you can cook this well yet we always order something?” you question once you finish, already starting to scoop another bite.

he chuckles at your flattery. “sometimes it just seems more beneficial to pay for an already-made meal rather that buy the ingredients and cook myself,” he replies. he was right - a majority of his income went into other necessities (he also just wanted to make sure you always had a good meal, not one he could easily fuck up). "plus, this is really the only dish i can make. it would get boring to eat it over and over again if i cooked every time."

you have a troubled time imagining you'd get bored of the sight of jay in the kitchen, but nevertheless, you understood his point completely.

silence consumes you both - a shared tendency of going quiet when there is food in front of you. peaceful was a fitting word, no pressure to continue past conversation or start up a new one; a comfortable silence is what you found yourselves in.

continuing your meal with little haste, your eyes glance towards jay's hands, utensils teetering in his grasp as they shake slightly.

“are you cold?” you inquire, prepared to stand and grab anything that could warm his limbs; he ushers you to sit.

“i’m not cold, don’t worry,” he says, the smile he offered not very convincing as you sink back into your chair, knowing better than to prod at him. he’d open up when he wished to.

a part of you was glad that jay hadn’t made any comments about the night prior, unsure if your head - or heart - could take such confrontation so early in the morning.

on the other side, you wish to know his thoughts - if he thought of you any differently, and how so. did this mean he reciprocated feelings? and possibly the most important question to you above all else - did he regret it?

“it’s still early in the morning, you normally don’t look so concentrated this early,” he comments teasingly, the corners of his lips turning upwards while your heart thumps an increasing beat in your ears.

“i could say the same about you,” you defend half-heartedly, knowing you’d succumb to defeat.

“let’s do a trade then; you tell me what on your mind, i’ll tell you what’s on mine,” the prospect of it all was so simple, yet it caused your breath to hitch at the mere thought of bringing up your relationship with him while he could easily be pondering over his upcoming assignments or shifts he has to cover.

with a sigh, you lean back in your chair, seemingly done with your plate as your eyes land on jay from across the table. “you first.”

he chuckles at your childish antics, mirroring your position and folding his arms over himself. with confidence, he begins. “i think my relationship with you has become the strongest its ever been. that’s not something i’d trade for the world, but i do have a. . . request, i think.”

you raise your brows. “you think?”

“depends on if you’re willing.”

“you’re so insufferable when you’re vague,” you bite back. thankfully, jay picked up that your words were playful, never meant to actually hurt him.

“sorry,” he says half-heartedly, secretly enjoying the annoyed expression on your face while you gave him the softest gaze. “i think what i’m asking is if you’d like to officially go out with me, see if we’re compatible as more than just friends.”

you smile knowingly, deciding to tease him a bit further in hopes to get on an even playing field, repeating a phrase you said only moments before. “you think?” tilting your head to the side as the man across from you smiles, shaking his head and breaking eye contact for only a moment to compose himself.

“i know i’m asking if you’d like to go out with me,” he finally says, a sudden weight lifted from his shoulders now that the words are out in the open, but the dense feeling soon returning at your impending response.

he knows last night couldn’t be any kind of measure for how you felt towards him (it seems he forgot you practically confessed to him yourself because of his nerves), and he’s been trying his best to keep himself from coming to a conclusion based on his own feelings and wishes. the imminent doom he felt grew to be too much, the tension in his chest when he was laying by your side only expanding as the day proceeded.

you exaggerate your expressions: looking off to the side and tapping your chin with your index finger, even though your mind was already made up - it’s been made up for quite some time now.

jay could see right through your little act, a laugh coming out in a small huff of air from his nose and his smile widened. “you really have to think that hard about it?” he asks, tilting his head to the side, a teasing tone laced within his voice.

“this is a big decision, jay!” you say. “what if we aren’t as compatible as we think and ruin everything?” you couldn’t even take yourself seriously, knowing you were throwing out statements that were untrue - but, whatever show you have going, must go on.

“i think we’re compatible as we are right now,” jay begins, his previously playful tone shifting to one of more seriousness but still managing to keep the lighthearted atmosphere present. “but, if you still want time, i can wait for you. i can show and give you everything.”

your heart aches - and as if suddenly you felt you had led him on for far too long with your reply - you smile, soft and welcoming. “i don’t think you need to wait, jay.”

“you don’t think? y’know, you can be pretty insufferable when you’re vague, too,” he laughs as warmth begins to creep up his neck, settling high on his cheekbones. his gaze remained gentle, never leaving your own even if his nerves were begging him to. “and to think i was gonna cook something myself for our first date. . .”

you gasp dramatically, now both in mutual understanding of where each other stood, you found yourself teasing him (to try and calm your own heart or because you wanted to see him flushed, you weren’t quite sure). “i want to go out with you, jay.”

“good,” he breathes out, smile ever-lasting as he takes a deep breath in, relieved to finally hear confirmation. “i want to be with you, always.”

#⠀⠀⠀⠀★ (SZUYIIN) ⠀⠀⠀⠀#enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #jay smut #jay hard hours #jongseong smut #jongseong hard hours #★ (201130)

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mlbigbang · 10 months

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2023 Ladynoir Fic Rec List

It’s the end of the year which means it’s finally time for the ML Big Bang’s yearly fic rec lists! We’re really excited to bring you our contributors’ favourite fics started this year to supply you with plenty of reading material while you’re waiting for the Big Bang fics’ publication in January.

all of your flaws and all of my flaws (are laid out one by one) by @coffeebanana

Ladybug and Marinette have both been acting strangely since Monarch's defeat, and Chat Noir would give anything to know why—to be able to help them. He just…didn't expect his answers to come when Ladybug drags him to his father's statue in the middle of the night along with a bag full of spray paint.

This fic explores the aftermath of the season 5 finale and provides some badly needed hurt/comfort, lovesquare communication, and vandalism ; )

with this ring by @thelibraryloser

She thought “you and me against the world” had sounded like lopsided odds before, when she hadn’t even dreamed “you against me” was a possibility. Or maybe she had dreamed it, but at least in those dreams he’d had cold blue eyes and a stark white mask. The villain she’d fought today had looked at her through her partner’s own bright green eyes. It wasn’t meant to be this way.

It tore at my heartstrings! It deals with a unique Ladynoir 'enemies' premise in a beautiful way

Let Me Count the Ways (aka Chat Noir's List of Ladybug's New Habits) by @sariahsue

Chat Noir thought it might be a good idea to start keeping a list of all the strange things Ladybug had been doing lately. It might help him to figure out what it all meant. There was the stumbling, the stuttering, the blushing. It had appeared out of nowhere. No, that wasn't quite right. It had all started when they were dancing at the gala, when she'd been so nervous that she tripped over the perfectly flat marble floor and smashed her face into his chest.

Like Smoke from a Furnace by @wackus-bonkus-maximus

Marinette and Adrien give up their Miraculous. Ladybug and Chat Noir never meet again.

It's hard to categorize this. Is this a ship or is it gen? It's strictly Adrienette because they're married. But pre-reveal. It forks after Kwami's Choice and asks the question: How would LB cope with LB and CN never getting their miraculous back after Kwami's Choice? But the story's title seems to indicate that this is kind of a "forbidden Ladynoir" fic because it's an allusion to the potentially devastating effects of "looking back" when you shouldn't. I've read this fic like a dozen times and am completely obsessed.

telepathy by @thelibraryloser

There’s a certain amount of telepathy created after several years fighting beside someone. It’s a mix of chemistry, history, and probably a bit of actual magic, and it comes down to this: Chat Noir usually knows exactly what his Lady is thinking. So, when a bike messenger hands him a three digit number written on a piece of hospital stationary, he knows exactly what Ladybug is asking him to do. He just can’t believe it.

soft and sweet and much ladynoir! <3

A 'Super' Guide to 'Super' Dating by @mysticraven20

When Ladybug just scrapes into the top 10 of Paris’ favourite heroes list, she asks her partner and her best friend for help. After they decide she’s not personable enough, which in result, makes her unapproachable, Marinette goes out to try and become one with the public by writing her very own dating blog. As the blog turns into an overwhelming hit, Marinette finds herself in an awkward position, once again falling for the guy she’s always longed for; a guy who has started his own search for love following her ‘Super’ guide to ‘Super’ Dating.

I just love the idea of Ladybug writing a dating column as she tries to find love in the city.

#ml #miraculous ladybug #fic recs #fic rec list #ml big bang #ml big bang 2023 #ladynoir #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #love square

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followthebluebell · 7 months

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what were q's issues? i tried to search your blog but tumblr is tumblr

Oh, that's because I never really went public with the extent of his problems. I didn't want to deal with the potential 'just euth him' comments, especially since I genuinely don't think a compassionate euthanasia would have been wrong.

Anyway, his butthole didn't work.

That's the short version.

I'm gonna put a more full history under the cut because it's really gross. Like fair warning. There's a lot of discussion of this cat's butthole, poop, and health issues. If you just want to keep imagining him as a cute little fluffball, maybe go look at his pictures instead.

Specifically, his anal sphincter didn't seem to function. His anus was just open and loose. Whatever was wrong with him ALSO seemed to affect his scrotum. Cats tend to hold their testicles pretty high and tight but his were super loose. I'm genuinely not sure if there's an actual connection there, but it was weird enough that it made its way into my notes about him.

He also had loose stools so he was just kinda constantly dribbling all over himself, whoever was holding him, his bedding, the floor--- you get the idea. He required frequent baths: he'd get a bath at the start of my shift and at the end, at the very least. Most nights had an evening bath as well. That way, he could at least stay somewhat free of excrement. This was terrible for his skin, of course; that's an excessive number of baths. It was just one of those damned if you do, damned if you don't situations. Considering the alternative was letting him sit in his own waste, we decided that baths were better.

He also wasn't gaining any weight. He wasn't taking in ANY nutrition from his food at all. Whatever went into him seemed to come right back out within a few hours. He was being tube fed for two weeks; he didn't seem capable of eating without grinding his teeth terribly. I genuinely wasn't sure how much sensation he even HAD in his anus until I caught him on camera squatting in a box.

That gave me hope more than anything else did. It at least told me he had nerve endings back there. It was just the sphincter or maybe the last inch or so of his intestine that seemed defective. Since he was such a sweet kitten otherwise, we decided to give him a chance to grow. The plan was to get him to UC Davis or a similar teaching hospital in the hope that they could extend his good intestine and sort of construct an artificial sphincter.

And then he just got over it. I picked him up to give him his morning bath and his butthole was just SLIGHTLY puckered. Over the next few days, I took a series of the grossest pictures in my fucking life and confirmed that his sphincter was sphincting. He started eating voraciously on his own. He started growing. He also stopped tooth grinding-- again, I don't know if this is significant, but it's another thing that made it into my notes.

I have no idea what happened, but I'm glad he's healthy. He just needed time to grow into his butthole or something.

#Q #cat #persian

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bixbythemartian · 1 year

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This is About Oceangate

...kind of. Like, heads up for people who are sick of hearing about it or are too disturbed by this, just scoot on by, that's fine.

Like everybody else my age who had a middle school special interest in the Titanic that was further fueled by the James Cameron movie (and that sounds very specific, but I absolutely know I'm not alone), I've been following this story fuckin voraciously.

I think everybody I know IRL and online is fucking sick of me talking about it. I have been actively trying not to blog much about it here because I'm so obsessed with it that I'm annoyed with myself. I would like to not be this interested in it.

But a lot of the stuff I can think of to say has been said by a lot of people already, I don't want to add to an already noisy environment if I've got nothing new to say.

So, instead, I want to talk about what I haven't seen very many people talking about- something that's stood out to me about the way the media has been handling this story from the get-go. So, finally, I'm inflicting my days long media binge on you.

The media's handling of this was bad. Like, comprehensively fucked.

For the uninformed, a primer on the situation- feel free to skip down if you know all this, there's a bulleted list right after I get done with this part, look for that. But some of this is important to the terms I use, so I wanted to lay it out. (Also I just want to get a lot of this out of my system, please just let me have this.)

The Titan is a 'cyclops-class' submersible. As far as I can tell, 'cyclops-class' is unique to the people who made this submersible, it's not a widely recognized thing.

The Titan can carry up to five passengers. It was supposed to be rated to reach depths of up to 4000 meters below sea level.

The Titan is/was owned and operated by a company known as Oceangate. There's a lot of questions regarding the safety of the submersible, where the math came from on their depth rating, and- basically everything about the Titan is in question, at this point. There's a lot of questions, but that's not what I want to talk about.

Right now. Maybe later.

A submersible is distinct from a submarine in that it requires a surface support ship for many things- the Titan moved too slow to leave port under its own power and go to the site, it didn't have enough life support to do that kind of thing, etc. A submarine is self-supporting and can operate independently. Kind of pedantic, I know, but the Titan is a submersible, not a submarine.

The Titan had a planned expedition to the wreck of the Titanic on June 18, 2023- this past Sunday, at the time of writing. The expedition was supposed to last around 10 hours. It chartered a ship- the Polar Prince- to act as mother ship, the on the surface support that the Titan requires. (The Polar Prince is owned and operated by a different company than the Titan.)

1 hour and 45 minutes into the expedition, as the Titan was still making its way to the sea floor, the Polar Prince lost all contact with the submersible.

The Titanic wreck is at just under 4000 meters deep, right around 2.5 miles.

Now, my understanding is that the Titan was not fully at the ocean floor at the point contact was lost, but it's not clear how deep the Titan was at that time. We may not ever know this for certain.

When the Titan was reported as missing to the coast guard is kind of unclear, to me- I heard 6 hours after they lost contact, I heard 12 hours after they lost contact, I saw something that indicated they reported it missing immediately- I don't know for sure. When the coast guard report comes out, I'm hoping we'll get a more accurate timeline.

However, as soon as it was reported missing, a massive search and rescue operationg was started. Complicating the search efforts were the fact that the submersible seemed to have no type of emergency distress locator beacon (I'm not sure what the precise nautical terminology would be for this).

The search included visual searching of the surface, dropping buoys with microphones, and ROVs (unmanned remote operated vehicles, deep sea robots operated by crew on ships at the surface) searching the floor, and probably some other stuff I'm forgetting. Deep sea radar etc etc, every tool they had access to.

The search and rescue concluded on Thursday (June 22, 2023) around midday, when they definitively found pieces of the destroyed submersible's pressure vessel (the part of the submersible that held pressure and kept the people safe and alive) in a debris field, approximately 1600 feet away from the Titanic.

The destroyed pressure vessel and reports from the Navy on hearing sounds consistent with implosion at the time the Titan lost contact indicates that the submersible underwent what is being called a 'catastrophic implosion'.

It is now an investigation and recovery operation, while they try to figure out what exactly went wrong.

The five men in the sub are dead. In all likelihood, they died so quickly that their nervous system didn't have time to process what happened. What happened to their bodies during this was probably gory and kind of horrifying, but it's unlikely they experienced any awareness of this.

There were five extremely wealthy men on the submersible- they were not all billionaires, but those that weren't were worth hundreds of millions of dollars. If you want a rough sketch of their biographies, there's a link here. Other than them being pretty wealthy, who they are doesn't play that much into what I want to talk about, so I don't feel the need to go into it right now. (Again, as more information comes out, I may come back for another swing.)

So, my complaint. The number of times I saw a news interview with an expert that went like this is not small:

news host interviews deep ocean expert of some variety (who is not involved in rescue)

host asks expert what chances are that the dudes are alive and will be recovered alive

expert, being honest, says something like 'slim to none'

host responds with some amount of sincere-seeming disappointment, then after interview, pivots to the ongoing search for the definitely still alive people

There were news programs with clocks counting down how much theoretical oxygen was left. There were frequent updates to news stories with nothingburgers of additions, just to pad it out. It was, if they were alive at that moment, fucking ghoulish. That they were dead makes it even more horrible.

And I cannot emphasize enough how many experts said, to generalize and paraphrase here: "Unless they are found bobbing on the surface in the next n hours, they are dead. Even if they are alive right this minute, on the bottom of the ocean, there is no hope to rescue them in time."

This is not a failure of any of the rescue entities involved, by the way. The environment they were presumed to be in- 4000 meters under sea level- is so extreme that there are very few vehicles in the world with the capability of even getting to that depth. Like, 10 or less. As far as I know, none of them are designed to do any kind of deep sea rescue- which would have involved carefully scooping up or netting the Titan and hauling it up very slowly. There's no way to transfer personnel between ships at this depth, and the Titan had the largest passenger allowance at this depth, afaik. Like, the odds were incredibly, vanishingly small that these men would live.

The media, at large, never ever really allowed that to change the way they talked about this story or treated the participants in the story. At around 11 am or noon (central daylight time) on Thursday I saw them talking about how 'oxygen is critical'.

Oxygen was critical 24 hours prior. Even by the most generous of expectations, they were out of breathable air. Given how, to put it mildly, janky the submersible seemed to have been, there was absolutely no guarantee that they had even the 96 hours that Oceangate claimed.

Their likelihood of being rescued alive from the ocean floor was minimal on Monday. By Thursday, they were dead- again, unless they were found on the surface somewhere and had managed to carefully preserve their air somehow, they were already dead.

The media didn't really allow for the reality of the situation to be clear until Oceangate and the USCG came out and said 'yeah, they're dead'.

"Well, what's the problem with that?" you might ask. "The United States Coast Guard was the one who was saying it was a rescue up until that point."

Sure. That's their job. Their job is to treat it like an urgent rescue until it is certain that it is not. A significant amount of what they do is to rescue people from doing damnfool things in the water, and keeping hope alive until they find bodies, or evidence thereof. They were doing exactly what they should be doing.

(Whether they do this to this extent for everybody lost at sea is another conversation that's absolutely worth having, as well as their role in border patrol, but I have no bone to pick with the USCG in this particular instance. They did their all until they could do no more, that's the whole point of them, this is how they're supposed to operate.)

The media was not doing what they should be doing. There's an old quote somewhere that I think is just a journalism truism (everyone I've heard talk about it says their journalism professor said it)- if someone tells you it's raining, and someone else tells you it's not, your job isn't to report that, your job is to go outside and see if it's wet.

James Cameron- director of the aforementioned Titanic movie, as well as being a Titanic and deep sea submersible expert, knew they were dead on Monday.

He reached out to some people, he found out that the mother ship lost contact with the crew as well as their location at the same instant, and that the Navy heard a sound consistent with an implosion at around that time.

The information that the Navy heard the implosion was not classified information- they heard it via a listening system that was declassified in the 90s, I believe. Like, I knew about the system just kind of casually because I know random Navy stuff. (My dad was in the Navy, it's mostly osmosis.)

The people on the scene were informed as soon as the Navy knew. (When that was, I'm not sure, except it was before Monday. Probably they had someone go back and listen to it and weren't actively monitoring it, but it's hard to say.)

The deep ocean submersible community knew, well enough that James Cameron could call a buddy and find out. He was telling people on Monday to raise a glass to them.

The media could have had this information, if they did not have it. Either they didn't want to know, or did know, and didn't say it. And I can't say for certain they were suppressing information, but I do know that they frequently downplayed any evidence that these people were dead.

I know on CNN they ran a story about FADOSS- the FlyAway Deep Ocean Salvage System- that was shipped out to Newfoundland. It arrived Wednesday afternoon. Description in the alt text, link here.

At the time this story was published, the people in the sub would have theoretically had less than 24 hours of breathable air. They hadn't even chartered a ship for the FADOSS, at this point. And the port in Newfoundland is hundreds of miles from the site. I'm not sure how many hours away but, like, hours away. I think I heard it's a 6 hour trip, but I'm not certain on that.

This system was referenced in the news as if it was going to be part of the rescue process. Very clearly, this was never going to happen. The quote, 'a process which can take a full day' is a mild understatement, here.

It could, theoretically, be done in 24 hours, but was much more likely to take longer, unless they had enough crew in Newfoundland to do round-the-clock welding.

The response to the question about recovering someone alive is a polite way of saying 'that's not what we do'. They were not part of the rescue operation and were never intended to be, as far as I can tell.

(If you're wondering what part the FADOSS is going to take in the recovery and investigation process, it's not. It's used to lift heavy objects off the floor, and the Titan broke into small enough pieces that the ROVs are believed capable of handling it. FADOSS is on its way back to wherever it is kept. I suspect it was brought out in the edge case that the submersible was found intact with dead crew, to retrieve the vessel whole, so that the families would have bodies to bury.)

Setting aside the 'oh they definitely blew up' news that seems to have been available the whole time, every single piece of evidence and expertise pointed to these people being dead, and yet the news persisted in sort of breathlessly (sorry) talking about the rescue efforts and how much time was left. They persisted in talking about how definitely still alive these people were until they could not do that anymore.

Other examples of this issue are the knocking thing. There were reports of some of the buoys picking up something that could be described as 'knocking'. Some said it was 'every thirty minutes' but we don't know how precise a measurement that was. As soon as they started talking about the knocking, I looked into it.

As it turns out, this is just a thing that happens. The sea is very noisy, and it's hard to determine the source of a sound. Some geological things sound manmade, vice versa. They had a lot of ships cooperating together to work the search area, it's possible that they were hearing noise from those, or something from an oil platform a jillion miles away, because noise travels far and is hard to pinpoint. They had this issue while searching for the sunken USS Thresher and it was one of the ships doing the searching. Given how many different moving parts there were in this search operation, it's hard to say what the knocking was. This is just a thing in the ocean, there's a lot of fuckin noise and experts can't always pinpoint it down in location or even what it might be.

This is why, even though they heard sounds that were consistent with implosion, at the time that the Titan lost total contact with the mother ship, it was still treated as if there was a live rescue operation. Because they couldn't be certain.

But the odds were extremely poor that these men were alive, and almost everybody involved knew that fairly early on. Again, the rescue operation had to go forward like they were looking for someone alive because that's how that works. The media, on the other hand, handled this in a very irresponsible way.

And, like, I know, news media is bad at being news is not some like hot new thing, I've just been building up frustration for days and so it had to come out somehow.

I'm not sure how much of this was just because they're very wealthy men- only one of whom I've ever heard of before- and how much of it was because it was a very bizarre and unique ongoing situation, how much of it was the intersection of that.

But pretty much everybody with enough knowledge to be worth talking to about this knew, like, Monday that even if they weren't dead right then, they were very unlikely to make it out alive, and watching the news wind a bunch of people up over the hopeful outcome was revolting.

Okay. We'll see if I can go 24 hours without talking about this. If you made it to the end of this absolute fucking novel, congratulations and/or I'm sorry.

#oceangate #titan submersible #this is just a personal rant about the media involved

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