#i gotta do it the scuffed way it looks like

[cooler-luckysandcat]

My day is ruined D:

[asexualjedi]

Ao3 down? Fuck it. Commanders your cody.

[cosmosis]

MOVED TO @seratopia

miguel o’hara x reader (fluff) - jealousy

miguel gets jealous possessive after a new intern flirts with you this is part of the same universe as my call oneshot!

Being 2nd in charge of the multiverse is... honestly not that hard for you. It’s mostly just co-leading, and being a secretary. Lyla helps out a bunch, but sometimes, a sassy AI can only do so much. 

Jess informed you of a new intern she recruited. Apparently, he’s having his first day today, which means you’ll probably have to do a quick run-through of things with him later. 

For now, it’s your fated duty to sit with Miguel at his desk so he doesn’t get all pouty later. He starts huffing and puffing when you aren’t near, takes it out on the kids sometimes. 

Thanks to your suggestion, Miguel invested in a nice desk and swivel chair for the office, so now it looks more like an actual workspace instead of a maniac’s plot room. (either way, he his one lmao)

Since Lyla’s gone for the time being, you’re standing up on the office platform, tapping away at a multitude of screens. Miguel lays lazily in the office chair, swiveled up behind you to rub his face into your upper back, as well as run his hands along your tummy. 

“Hun, you gotta let go. I needa tour the intern.” You mutter, closing in on an ID photo of the recruit.

“No.“

“Well, if I don’t do it, then who will?“ You ask. 

“Jess.“

“She’s busy on her break. Pregnant women need breaks, you know.“

“Ugh. I don’t want you to leave.“ He whines. squeezing you tighter. 

You start squirming out of his grip, pulling his pinky off of your stomach. Inching away, you push Miguel away by his head. Reluctantly, he starts letting you go, lazily running his hands onto the skin of your hips and lower thighs before letting go. 

“I’ll see you in a bit, baby.“ You say, scuffing up his hair with your palm. Gracefully, you leap down from the platform, somersaulting onto the floor and skating out the exit. You hop over a few stray cardboard boxes. 

Miguel watches you stroll away, and fixes his hair back into place. 

Lyla magically appears, phasing in and out with a different sly look each time. She snickers, flickering all around Miguel’s head. 

“Whipped.“

“Shut the fuck up.“

. . .

Miguel’s blood starts to boil as soon as you roll in with that stupid, bastard of an intern. He’s too close to you for comfort, so close to his arm nudging yours... Miguel’s teeth start to clench, his fangs close to drawing blood from his mouth. He’s paying too much attention to you, there’s a vibe he gets that he hates to his core. 

Everything about him is aggravating; the blonde hair, the snarky smirk, all of it.  

“...and this is Miguel’s office!“ You say, gesturing your hand to the majority of the area. 

“Sweet, nice to meet the bossman.“

Bossman, his ass. Miguel would only ever let you call him bossman. 

“Miguel! Come down!“ You yell, and his heart warms in his chest. He turns around from his standing form on the office platform, eyeing the intern in order to scare him a bit. 

“Hey, what’s up man! Glad to finally meet the man behind the slaughter!“ The intern exclaims, his hands rested on his hips. 

Miguel fights every urge to both roll his eyes and tackle the recruit, keeping a somewhat straight face on. He chuckles a little, not a single trace of a smile on his face. 

“Heh, yeah? Excited to meet the bossman?“ Miguel taunts, but it looks like the intern can’t tell he is. 

“Heck yeah dude! Where do I start?“

Miguel starts nodding a little, plastering on a face smile, chuckling a bit...

Before he throws the entire office chair at the recruit. Not to hit you, though. He’d never, ever hit you. 

Instantly, the intern turns away, shielding his body with his hands. In the nick of time, though, you latch your webbing onto the chair, slinging it away to side before it could harm anyone. You cross your arms. 

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry about tha- MIGUEL!“ You scream. 

And he throws a literal file cabinet at the man. Again, you latch it out of way without problem. 

“What th'heck, man?! What’s your fuckin’ problem?!“ The intern yells, spreading his arms out. 

“My fuckin’ problem is you nagging my wife!“ He roars. 

“Wait a sec- she’s your wife?“

Miguel then  leaps down from the platform, chin held up high in a sinister glare. Slowly, he steps over towards the both of you, fixing his eyes on the intern the entire time. 

Miguel’s tall, really tall compared to the newbie. He pokes his finger to the recruit, leaning in real close. 

“Stay at least 5 feet away from my wife at all times.“ Miguel utters, and you kinda feel bad for the new guy. 

You cross your arms. “C’mon, Miguel. He’s literally new, take it easy on him!” You say back, and Miguel pouts, whines. Possessively, he reaches over to you, pulling in you in by the hip to try to soothe you. It doesn’t work, and you present yourself from giving into his needy touches.  

And then, you turn around back to the newbie. “Gosh, I’m so sorry about that! He’s usually not like this-”

“Man, fuck this.“ The intern exclaims, taking a few steps back in agitation. “Take me back home, I ain’t dealin’ with this shit!“

He storms off, kicking a stray cardboard box on the way out. 

“Aw, crap.“

“Finally.“

You swerve back around, hands on your hips. “Miguel, that was uncalled for.”

“Yes it was! He was smothering all over you!“ He yells, throwing his hands up in the air like it was the most obvious thing ever. 

“Well, now thanks to you, we lost a recruit.“

“One of literally thousands!“

“And now, there’s papers everywhere on the floor!“

“Shhh, honey, I’ll clean it up later.“

Ignoring your frown, Miguel finally pulls you into him, pressing your lower back into his own with a nose into your hair.

“I saw the way he put his arm around you. He was flirting with you too. Hated it.“ Miguel utters. 

“When?“ You ask.

“On the surveillance.“ He says, and you sigh. He’s right, the guy was flirting with you for a bit, but you chose to ignore it so you could get over with the tour faster. 

“Eh, he gave me the heebie jeebies from the beginning.“ You say, and Miguel automatically squeezes you tighter into him, a deep grumble bellowing from his inner throat.

“I’m never letting you tour anyone ever again.“ Miguel admits.

“After that? Go ahead.“ You scoff, and finally, he sighs in relief. 

He tries drags you back to the office platform again, but then forgets that he threw the chair, grumbling in regret. Instead, he just hovers behind you for the rest of the day, occasionally pressing a smooch to your head. 

[corazondebeskar-reads]

could be

Jackson!Joel Miller x f!reader

this ficlet is brought to you by @iamasaddie's writing challenge! my assigned color was "pretty clicker" (which tbh idk if we needed to include the color but I did anyway lol).

genre: pwp (I tried my best) prompt: "whoa, that's a new one."

words: 1.7k

summary: jackson is not your home. joel miller is not your boyfriend. but they could be.

warnings: pwp, oral (m&f receiving), handjob, fingering, joel and reader are astoundingly bad at emotions, a few playful spanks, tommy makes an off-screen cameo, old man joel my beloved, antics, absolutely no proofreading or beta reading whatsoever rip sorry

dividers by @saradika-graphics

“Whoa, that’s a new one,” drawls the man as he steps out of the shadow of the copse. “ If it ain’t the prettiest little clicker I’ve ever seen.” 

You scowl, tugging the hat off, boot scuffing the dirt as you grind the frustration of being caught out into the soil. It gives with some difficulty, the late autumn’s early frost already turning the ground to stone. “Shut up, Joel,” you mutter. 

“That always work for ya? How haven’t you gotten shot yet?” He says, jerking his head down at the ball cap you’ve adorned with the decapitated clicker’s face.

(Or should you say disembodied? Dessicated? Desecrated? Whatever, you cut the fucking mushrooms off a dead fucker and stuck them on a hat. The terms don’t matter.) 

“Yep. Not too many fools out here who will go looking for a clicker when they hear one.”

“It’s a good impression, darlin’, but it’s not quite enough to trick me.” He’s drawn close, maybe too close, and curls two fingers under your chin, drawing your gaze to his grizzled face. 

You roll your eyes. “You a clicker whisperer or something?” 

His lips curl. “Not quite, no.” He lets his hand fall from your chin, and you watch it go. 

When you look back up at his face, you’re caught. Trapped. His grin is solemn, as if he, too, feels the snare.

“You got somewhere to stay tonight?” he says, instead of acknowledging the way you’ve drawn a breadth closer. 

“Sure do,” you drawl. 

He chuckles. “Alright, keep your secrets. But, uh—my back ain’t what it used to be, so the forest floor ain’t gonna work for me today.”

Your lips curl. “Presumptuous, are we?”

“You’re lookin’ at me like a piece of meat, sweetheart.”

“Well, ain’tcha?”

“Guess you must be desperate, then, ‘f’you’re back for an old man like me.”

“Guess so,” you hum and give in. “How d’you always find me?”

“Hmm, don’t you worry ‘bout that, alright? All you gotta know is that I do always find you, and I’ve got some of Tommy’s peanut butter cookies in my bag for ya.”

“My hero,” you press one hand over your heart while the other makes the universal ‘gimmie’ gesture at his backpack. 

“Could be, y’know,” he mumbles. 

You both ignore the slip. He rifles around in the bag and pulls out a tin. You try to snatch it from him, but he pulls away with a wagging finger. 

“Nope, not yet,” he says with a teasing lilt, his drawl drawing out. He hands you one precious sweet and tucks the rest back into his bag. “If I give it to you now, you’ll just run off, and then what’ll I have?”

“A sense of satisfaction from being kind?”

You share a laugh at your joke as he leads you not to the safe “house” but up to the old, creepy lodge you avoid like the plague. Or. Well. Like the Infected. 

“Calm down, I already cleared it,” he says with a roll of his eyes. “It’s got a real bed, though, sweetheart, so I can take my time with ya.”

“You mean so you don’t break a knee fuckin’ me over a log?”

“It didn’t break. Jesus. How old do you take me for?”

“Old as shit,” you mutter. 

He just grins. 

“What?” 

“Nothin’. You just get brattier the longer you’re away. Ain’t got any good cock back home?”

“Shut up,” you grumble, but it’s close to the truth. There’s cock back home, sure, but then you’d have to fuck one of those losers, and you just know Joel’s ruined you. 

Ruined you with intent and precision, and now he’s taking you by the hand and leading you up into the lodge’s dusty halls and into what must have once been a nice guest room. 

You whistle. “Did you clean this just for me?” You ask, batting your lashes. 

“If I say yes, you gonna be sweet for me?”

“You wouldn’t know what to do with me if I was.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he says, lying down on the bed with his hands behind his head. “So get your ass up here.”

You quickly shimmy out of your sweats and climb up to straddle him, but his grin splits wider in a lecherous stretch. 

“You think I brought you here for you to ride me? Y’can do that shit in the woods. Get up here.”

You hesitate. “I live in a fucking camp, Joel.” The “without running water” bit is obvious but unspoken.

“I do not give a shit,” he says bluntly. “Get up here.”

“Your funeral,” you say with a shrug, and let him help you settle over his face. You’re barely steady when he grabs your hips and pulls, bringing you to meet him. 

It’s been… longer than you can even remember, and oh shit. Either your memory hasn’t done this justice, or the last man to eat you out was fuckin’ terrible because this is nothing like you’ve ever known. 

But he doesn’t dive in and rush it. He doesn’t go straight to sucking on your clit; he doesn’t push three fingers into your cunt to work you open for his cock. 

Oh, no. You’ve been had, you think. This setup was an elaborate trap to wipe your mind clean and replace everything with thoughts of him. He’s brought you here to the second closest place of safety he knows so he can take his fuckin’ time with you. 

His hands are gentle on you, and he nuzzles into your mound to part your folds, his wide nose pushing between to seek out his prize. The tip of his tongue pushes out to help, tracing the tiny slit of your cunt. At the first taste of you, he groans, drawn out and filthy. 

“Shit,” he pants, hot breath scattering across the soft peaks and valleys. “It’s been too goddamn long.”  He seems to be talking to himself, which is good because you can’t wrangle more than a tangled gasping whimper in response. 

He brings his hands up underneath you to grip your inner thighs, pulling to spread you more so he can watch you start to glisten. “Atta girl,” he murmurs, nuzzling back in to lap it up. “Mmm, baby, is all this for me?”

“Shoulda known you wouldn’t shut up,” you mutter, even though you’re addicted to his filthy mouth most of the time.

“Shut me up then,” he says in a way you simply cannot refuse. 

You grind down on his face, expecting protest, but he moans in a way you can only classify as slutty. He buries his face between your thighs with a growl and gets to work. 

You can barely hold yourself up after the first orgasm he coaxes from you, all powerful tongue and gentle lips. 

“Y’ain’t quittin’ on me, are ya?” He taunts. 

“I thought you were gonna shut up.” 

He smacks your ass. “Turn around.”

When you do, he pushes you down to lay on him. “Get nice and cozy with my cock, sweetheart, ‘cause I ain’t done with you yet.”

You take the invitation but before you can pull him free from his jeans, he’s diving back into his personal all you can eat buffet and showing no sign of slowing. 

Eventually, you manage to pry his ridiculous monster cock from its denim confines and try, really try, to focus on it, but it’s so hard (you giggle as you tell him) when he keeps doing that thing with his teeth and your clit. After the third time, you find yourself just moaning and drooling around it; you give up and rest your head on his thigh, content to hold it in your hand and lick. 

He spanks you again. “Don’t be a tease.”

You try to protest, but he bests you by attempting to suck your soul out of your clit while hammering two thick fingers against your g-spot, and it’s all over for your brain. Poor thing never stood a chance against Joel anyway. 

You squirm away from the menace when he attempts to keep going and smack him in the face with a pillow when he whines. He wipes his beard on it and throws it back at you. 

You can’t hold back your questions now that you’re back up and running. “How d’you have the time for this?” 

“Hmm?” Joel grunts, a hand tugging lazily at his dick while he surreptitiously slides his hand down the length of your thigh and back up. 

You turn on your back, swatting his hand away. “You’re usually in a rush.”

He turns a little pink. “Don’t matter.”

“Uh, it clearly does. I’m asking.”

“Well, it’s nunya.”

You groan. “Think I liked it better when you were too busy eating me out to talk.”

“Now you know how I feel.”

You throw the cum-stained pillow back at him but miss by an embarrassing overshot. It arcs over him and into the floor between his side of the bed and the wall. 

You shrug. “Gone forever,” you say and throw an arm over your eyes dramatically. 

It’s a good thing, too, since the pillow hits you in the face. 

“I’m on watch here,” he says once you stop screeching indignantly. 

“Well, you’re not doing a very good job of it,” you let him know solemnly. 

“Ain’t alone. M’brother—Tommy,” he clarifies unnecessarily, “S’here too. He’s got it handled.”

“Oh my god, did you ask your brother to cover for you so you could get laid?”

He shrugs. “Why not?”

“Aw, Miller. You really know how to make a girl feel special,” you drawl. 

He plays it off with another eye roll and scoffs, but the thing is—you know. He stopped asking you to think about moving to Jackson a long time ago. But slowly, he’s been taking you closer and closer to town when you meet up. 

And you’re pretty sure he’s using Tommy’s cookies as a reward. Each time he lures you closer, he brings more treats the next time. You’d be mad at the absolute gall, but… it’s not not working, so you only have yourself to blame.

When you catch his eye again, he makes a point to hold your gaze and draw it down to his leaking cock, and you know he knows. You won’t go with him, so he’ll have you here. Jackson is not your home. But that quiet drawl in your head that sounds unnervingly similar to the man sprawled before you whispers, it could be.

[oneforthemunny]

cowboy!eddie ask:

OH MY GOD THESE COWBOY EDDIE SMUT FICS!!!!!

horny hours ahead.

Just think about this. At the first stage of their relationship, eddie and reader had a thing going on, a situationship but not an official relationship, so reader is head over heels for eddie, and eddie is smitten too but their pride gets in the way. So one night reader is having fun with her girlfriends at some town gathering ??? ( i don't know how they're called) and she wants to make eddie jealous. She wears her favourite sundress, red with spaghetti straps and lace and all and she flirts with other boys from town ALL NIGHT LONG. So our cowboy gets furious and wants her to himself and just needs to make it clear to her.

You can take it from here with your absolute best taste in smut writing.

this was so much longer than I meant it to be holy fucking shit.

18 + MINORS DNI

he really just enjoys the banter the two of you have, but honestly, he thinks the two of you are exclusive. he thinks it's so cool how you're not super clingy and will let him work, and then he picks you up and you guys chill.

that's never the case now is it?

you're convinced he's just fucking with you. playing a sort of cat and mouse game that you have no interest in partaking in. he rarely calls you, usually only comes by to take you out and then fuck you, leaving your apartment early saying something along the lines of "gotta get back to the horses, baby, they don't care that I'm sleeping in. they wanna get fed." in reality, it's the truth. he's not one to hump and dump, but he's gotta take care of his animals. still, you're furious.

the flower festival, to welcome in spring, is always downtown. most of the town shows up, there's a parade, and lots and lots of booze. more importantly, there's a band and you show up, wearing your favorite little red number (eddie's fave too) one that always catches between your ass cheeks when you walk, holding your cleavage up and sitting pretty on your chest.

eddie's drooling when he sees you, grinning over at you when you catch his eye. the only thing is, there sits lynette, the town whore that's always had a thing for eddie. she's a regular buckle bunny, who's pined after him for years. she's tried everything.

you're seeing red, and it's not just your dress. furious, you go up to chris, grinning and placing your hand on his bicep while he escorts you to get a drink. you don't look at eddie but you can feel his gaze on you.

the whole night goes like that too. eddie watching you flirt from boy to boy to boy, giggling, batting your eyes, twirling your hair. what does it for him is when harrison plucks his hat off his head, placing it on yours with a wink. eddie's had enough.

"'scuse me." eddie grins, calloused hand wrapping around your upper arm. "'m gonna take this little lady from ya for just a second."

you don't protest, letting him drag you, boots scuffing against the cobbled ground of the street. eddie is taking long, striding steps towards the parking lot, unrelenting in his grip on your arm.

"eddie, let go of me! I'm not done hanging out with my friends!" you huff.

"friends?" eddie scoffs, jaw clenching in anger. "fuckin' friends, yeah, they seem like they wanna be your friend." he seethes.

you scoff, rolling you eyes. "oh, don't tell me you're jealous, cowboy." you snap. "we're not anything special anyways. you're too busy with all your other little ladies aren't you?" you challenge, eyes squinted at him.

eddie blinks, scanning your features. "have you lost your mind?" he asks.

"no, but you certainly have. now let me go." you snap, wrenching your arm out of his grasp. "go talk to lynette or-or alice. I don't want to distract you."

"why the fuck would I talk to either one of them?" eddie throws his hands out. "why would I -hey, I'm talkin' to you." eddie grabs your arm, spinning you around to face him. "you gonna walk away from me when I'm talking to you?"

"who do you think you are?" you scoff. "you don't get to talk to me like that. not when you ignore me all week, and then think I'm gonna spread my legs and be on your booty call rotation with those other bitches. I'm not interested in that."

"what the fuck are you talkin' about?" eddie huffs, jaw clenched. "I told you, I had auction all week, and I was gonna take you out thursday, and you said you were sick!"

"because I'm not going to be played by you, eddie!" you shrill in the parking lot, uncaring of the people around you who might hear. "I'm not going to be competing for your attention with these other girls-"

"-goddamit!" eddie yells, slamming his hand in frustration on the metal of his truck. "I don't want any of those other girls. I want you." his eyes are intense, fierce, chest heaving hard under his band tee. you swallow thickly.

"I don't know who's told you I've been with other girls, but I haven't alright? when I'm not workin', or sleepin', I'm trying to be with you." eddie huffed, moving so he trapped you against the car, tattooed arms caging you. "I want you, you little brat, not anyone else but you."

your bottom lips quivers, flushing under his sweet gaze. your lips are on his in a moment, hands raking through his curls in an intense kiss that lead to the two of you fumbling around in his back seat of his truck.

eddie's belt buckle pressed against your thigh, the imprints of whatever saying or figure onto the soft skin while he thrusted into you, hard and unforgiving. his hand cradled the back of your neck, holding you close to his chest, while his other gripped the headrest for balance.

he was abusing that spongey spot inside of you, sure you'd be gushing soon. his thrusts were hard, breath heavy in your ear, curls falling loose from his bun and tickling your neck.

"you ever act like that again, and I'll use this belt to blister that cute little ass, you hear me?" eddie sneered, grunting when you clamped and gushed over his cock, strangling his thick member around your velvety walls.

"and you ever put on another man's hat, darlin', and you'll be in real trouble. don't you ever do that again." eddie growled.

"'m sorry, 'm sorry." you whimpered, nails gripping the fabric of his shirt, balling it between your fists.

eddie pounded you out, leaving you filled and flooded at the same time over his seats. good thing they're leather, eddie thought when he saw the mess you'd left behind.

he took you back to his place that night, pounding you out all night until the roosters were crowing, making you wear his hat while you rode him until your thighs were trembling and giving out.

eddie watched you, tangled under his sheets, the golden light of the morning sun on your skin, your parted lips puffing out air against his inked chest. he knew the horses would be waiting, but he couldn't bring himself to get up just yet. to leave a sight as precious and perfect as this. he knew you'd be around for a while, he'd make sure he could keep you around, keep you happy and all his for the rest of his life.

[munson-blurbs]

Hey can I do one of the spirit Halloween requests. Sour Patch Kids/Butterfinger. And can it be with Eddie please. Can include smut if that's OK. Thank you 😊

Enemies-to-Lovers/Shy!Reader/Eddie Munson

(+ 3 other anon requests)

I couldn't figure out a way to make it smutty without it seeming forced, but there are definitely some raunchy elements. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Eddie is mean to Reader, allusion to masturbation (18+ only, minors DNI), Reader wears a skirt

WC: 1.2k

Divider credit to @saradika

“Absolutely not.” Eddie crosses his arms over his chest, a sneer cursing his lips. 

“Come on, man!” Mike grumbles, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “I told Nancy I’d help her out.”

Eddie scoffs, turning away from you and your best friend’s younger brother. “Yeah, well, I didn’t promise shit,” he retorts. “We don’t need anymore players, and we definitely don’t need her.”

Your lower lip quivers, and you bite it to stop from crying. “I, um, i-it’s okay, Mike,” you hurriedly reassure him. “I’ll tell Nancy you tried.” You turn around and leave the drama room, tears blurring your vision. 

“What the hell is your problem?” Mike yells loud enough that you can hear him halfway down the hallway, despite the pounding in your ears. “Nancy said she’s really into DnD. She could, I dunno, be our sub when Lucas has a game or something.”

“Am I speaking a different language? No. N-O. Not happening.”

Gareth cocks a bemused brow. “Are you still pissed off about—”

“SHUT UP!” Eddie’s bellow reverberates around the tiny room. “Look, are we gonna play or not?”

“I gotta go make sure she’s okay before Nancy kicks my ass,” Mike huffs, slinging his backpack over one shoulder. “Thanks for nothing,” he spits at Eddie.

No one says anything for a moment; the Hellfire Club is eerily silent. Finally, Jeff speaks up. “That was pretty harsh, Ed.”

“That was harsh?!” Eddie guffaws and clenches his jaw. “Me telling her she can’t join Hellfire is harsh, but she can talk shit about me to her friends, and that’s totally fine? Cool, got it.” He shakes his head at the memory. Just a few weeks ago, he’d been walking to your locker to ask you out, only to overhear you telling Nancy that you wish he would disappear and leave you alone.

“Why do you even care so much?” Lucas asks, now thoroughly invested in the drama.

“Because he loves her,” Gareth pipes up, “and she thinks he’s an obnoxious prick, which is accurate.” He’s unfazed by Eddie’s glare, having been on the receiving end of his anger many a time. “Dude, you embarrassed the shit outta her in history! Why would she be nice to you?”

Dustin rolls his eyes. “What did you do?”

“Nothing!” Eddie insists at the same time Gareth says, “As soon as she walked into class, he jumped on his desk and shouted, ‘there’s the prettiest girl in Hawkins!’”

All of the guys let out a collective groan. “You can’t do that with a shy girl!” Lucas groans. If Eddie wasn’t six inches taller than him, he’d smack him upside the head. “Max would kick my ass if I did that to her.”

“She probably thought you were making fun of her,” Dustin points out, and Eddie’s face falls when everyone else nods in agreement. “Have you tried, like, talking to her and not at her?”

“No,” Eddie admits, scuffing the toe of his Reeboks on the tile floor. “Shit, I gotta fix this–I’ll be right back.”

You’re nearly at the double doors of Hawkins High’s entrance when you hear a familiar voice calling your name. You wipe the tears from your cheeks and muster up all of your courage, but your words still rush out too quickly. “I’m gonna tell Nancy that Hellfire wasn’t my scene. You’re in the clear, okay? Just…go away.”

But he doesn’t go away; he comes closer. The anger that previously flamed behind his eyes is extinguished, replaced by concern. “Can we talk?” he softly asks. “We can go in my van so it’s more private. Please.”

“Fine.” The desperation in his tone convinces you to give in. You follow him to the van, offering him the smallest smile when he opens the door and motions for you to go inside. Pushing aside a stray guitar pick, you take a seat on the carpeted floor. 

Eddie takes a deep breath, twisting his rings around his fingers nervously. “I, um, I’m sorry. For, y’know, the whole thing in history class.”

You suck your lip between your teeth before responding. “S’okay,” you mumble. You really want to tell him off so he knows how hurt you were by his teasing, but you can’t bring yourself to say the words.

“No, it’s not. I…I should’ve told you when it was just the two of us,” he counters, drawing a confused look from you. “What?”

“Told me what?”

“That I think you’re the prettiest girl in Hawkins.” He offers his own puzzled expression when you scramble to your knees and lean for the door handle. “Wait! Where’re you going?”

There’s a lump in your throat that you force yourself to swallow before you can speak. “This is obviously a big joke to you, Eddie. ‘Ha ha, let’s point out how ugly the nerdy girl is!’” 

“No. No.” Eddie’s voice is firm but kind. “It wasn’t a joke. I really think you’re the prettiest girl in Hawkins. And I like you. A lot,” he adds with a nervous laugh. “That whole, uh, performance was my way of flirting.”

You’re still unconvinced, cocking a brow in disbelief, so he continues. “How about this: since I embarrassed you, I’ll tell you an embarrassing secret. And if I’m lying about liking you, you can tell everybody.”

You relent for the second time today. “O-Okay. That’s fair.”

“All right.” Eddie rubs his palms on his jeans, slick with anxious perspiration. “So, remember that time that I got to class, all…sweaty and out of breath and stuff?”

You nod. “Mhm.” He’d told Mrs. Click that he’d been in gym class, but you knew he’d just come from lunch like you had. You’d figured he’d had a deal out in the woods and ran back to school. 

“Well, um,” he looks down at the carpet, “it was because I saw you in the cafeteria wearing this cute little skirt, and I had to…take care of myself. In the boys’ room.” He presses his palms to his eyes and says, mostly to himself, “No fuckin’ way did I just admit that.”

You’re shell-shocked. Like joining Hellfire, the skirt in question was another one of Nancy’s ideas to ease you out of your comfort zone. You had no idea he’d even noticed. “Y-You liked it?” you ask dumbly. 

“Ohhhh, yeah,” Eddie chuckles. “I gotta stop thinkin’ about it before…” His eyes drop to the zipper of his jeans, a small tent already visible against the seam, and he hurries to switch subjects. “D’you still wanna play DnD with us? I promise I’m usually less of a dick. And a perv.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “I have my doubts about that last part,” you tease, only half-joking, “but, yeah. I would love to play with you guys.”

“Awesome.” Eddie’s face lights up. “And maybe after, you and I can grab something to eat? Maybe catch a movie or somethin’?”

Before you can chicken out, you kiss his cheek. “It’s a date.”

The two of you walk back into the school, Eddie’s hand on the small of your back. “Oh, um, one more thing?”

“Mhm?”

“Can you change into that skirt?”

--

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♥︎ ₵₳₦ĐɎ ♥︎

♥︎ Pairing: lead singer!boyfriend!yuta x chubby!fem!bassist reader (you get mark & johnny as bandmates too so that's fun)

♥︎ Genre: rockstar au/fluff/angst/smut

♥︎ Summary: Joining your favorite band was a dream come true. That is until you fell for the lead singer who has no shortage of groupies throwing themselves at him. He says he loves you but can you really trust him? I mean, you used to be a groupie too after all.

♥︎ Word Count: 4.1k-ish

♥︎ Warnings: Strong language. If you don't like curse words I'm sorry babes. I'm a potty mouth. Unprotected sex, creampie, shower sex, rough sex, a lil choking, nibbling, scratching, fingering, marking, oral sex (f receiving), tattoos/piercings, pet names (daddy, baby, etc), a lil drop of mutual possessiveness.

♥︎ A/N: I've really been trying to have more fun with my fics and just let my brain do it's thing so I hope y'all have fun with it too, darlings.

“Yuta, I fucking love you!” an obnoxiously tipsy female voice screams from the crowd.

A bra comes soaring from the sea of bodies packed into the pit at the edge of the stage. The pink lace fabric lands at Yuta’s feet, draping itself across his scuffed black combat boots. Any band knows that when you stop the show to do something — tune your guitar, take a sip of water — it’s prime opportunity for anything to happen. And it almost always will. 

It’s not like you can blame her. Once upon a time you’d been one of those girls in the crowd, lost in the chaos of the night. There’s nothing like it, the rush that you get when your heart seems to sync with the violent bashing of the drums. The distorted guitars like electric coursing through your veins. Every lyric floats through the air, becoming more and more a part of you with each breath you take in. 

Then there was him…

Nakamoto Yuta. When your friends were all drooling over him you’d pretend you weren't interested. You’d never be so basic as to fall for the lead singer of the band. Maybe he did have the sort of voice that makes a girl melt even when he’s growling the filthiest lyrics. Especially when there’s growling. And maybe he did have bone structure to die for.

Then there were the tattoos, piercings, and the way sweat glistened on his chest halfway through a show. You weren’t won over by any of that. It was all about the music, one artist appreciating another. So when Yuta’s bassist quit the band and your manager broke the news that she’d gotten you an audition your intentions were purely artistic.

In this industry, a girl’s gotta work twice as hard as the guys to prove she can do half of what they can. You worked your ass off session after session, easily demolishing any other bassist their label could’ve suggested. You earned your spot in the band ten times over. Made sure no one could question why you were there. Then and only then did you let Yuta fuck your brains out. 

Before shows, after shows. Tour buses. Hotels. Airport bathrooms. Green rooms. Whenever. Wherever. However. In the studio and onstage it was still about the music but everything else? All of it was driven by how much you lusted for and, much to your dismay, loved one another.

Recalling the heavenly experience it is to be bent over a bathroom sink with Yuta so deep inside of you that you feel it in the back of your throat, you can’t really blame Ms. Pink Lace for tossing her bra at him. 

Kneeling down to pick up the bra, Yuta takes a look back at you. The most innocent face in the world, his baby angel, geared up and ready to commit murder. 

You can’t really blame her but—

Fuck it. You do. 

“I think she wants to come backstage after the show!” a guy shouts from the other side of the stage, garnering laughter from the crowd. Yuta smiles as he approaches the mic stand, the bra dangling from his fingers by the strap. “I think she wants my girl to kick my ass,” Yuta laughs, pushing his messy hair back out of his face.

“Kick his ass” Johnny whispers into his mic from the safety of his drum kit. Nearly spitting out the sip of water you’ve just taken, you toss the rest back at Johnny. The years of experience he has over you come in handy as he expertly dodges it.

“Boo, she doesn’t like to share!” Ms. Pink Lace shouts, not quite ready to back down.

Yuta steps aside and turns to you once more, “You wanna come answer this?” You unplug your bass and stroll to Yuta’s side with the sweetest smile on your face. “Do I share him?” you ask as if it’s the dumbest question you’ve ever heard in your life. It is. You lay your hand flat on his chest, running it all the way down to the waist of his pants. Looping a finger around his belt, you pull him closer and into a kiss deep enough to make you both forget you’re on stage.

When you finally break away, you borrow his mic for a quick announcement. “Our next song is called ‘In Your Fucking Dreams’!” Taking the bra from Yuta, you put it on over your dress. Ever the supportive boyfriend, he clasps it in the back for you and plants another kiss on your lips before you skip back to your spot. 

“Well, then…” Yuta sings, “This is ‘In Your Fucking Dreams’” Mark laughs, strumming his guitar to warm up, “In your fucking dreams, parenthesis, thanks for the new bra.” The crowd cheers, basking in the chaos of it all. You plug your bass back up, ready to shred hard enough that your fingers bleed. You’re pissed, all of the boys know it, but the show must go on. 

There’s no crying in punk rock.

“Are you crying?” Mark asks, spotting you amongst the legions staff shuffling around the halls backstage. “No” you sniffle, wiping the tears from your cheeks, “The lights were just hot and—” He grabs you by the arm, turning you to face him. “You’re a shitty liar. You’re crying. What’s wrong?”

Overhearing the conversation as he passes, Johnny doubles back. “Are you—” Johnny starts but figures it out before he has to speak another word, “Wait, don’t tell me you’re upset about that bra thing.” Feeling cornered, you try to push them aside but they don’t budge an inch. “Look, no. I don’t know. I’m just—fuck just leave me alone okay!” you snap, another wave of tears stinging the corners of your eyes.

Yuta finally catches up, his exhaustion turning to concern when he sees you. If you’re upset, even over the tiniest thing, everything stops for him including the urge to pass out after a show. He takes you by the hand, bringing you into his arms. He’s sticky and wet but his embrace is comforting all the same. “Baby,” he says softly, petting your hair, “What’s going on? Talk to me.” With so many eyes on you, you aren’t quite sure how to admit that Johnny’s right.

You are upset about the bra thing. Upset, embarrassed, angry, hurt — every mixture of things — and you can’t make sense of any of it. “Can we just go back to the hotel?” you ask, gathering whatever composure you have left. Yuta hesitates but gives in when he sees your eyes begging “Please”. “Uh, yeah. You guys—” he sighs, looking to the others. Johnny and Mark nod, getting the hint.

Mark pats him on the shoulder before walking ahead, “Got it, bro. We’ll catch you tomorrow.” Johnny hangs back for a second, leaning in to whisper into your ear, “Don’t worry, he’s so whipped for you. It’s, like, super sad.” Johnny’s comment gets a giggle out of you which is all he needed to feel okay walking away.

Yuta leads you back to the green room where he stays glued to you as you wait for the okay from your manager to leave. You’re relieved when you can finally go, the fresh night air soothing the suffocating feeling that’s been terrorizing you for the past hour. The ride back to the hotel is quiet with most of your time spent zoning out in the kaleidoscope of lights cast on you as you pass the local shops.

You can feel Yuta watching you, his hand firmly and lovingly holding yours, but can’t bring yourself to meet his gaze. Not only are you the only girl in the band, you replaced someone fans already loved. Each night you have to fight for their respect, you knew this already. Now falling for him meant you had to fight for it in more ways than one. The girls will always be there in numbers your brain can’t even fathom, willing to do things that your brain, unfortunately, can fathom in nauseating detail. 

“A girlfriend to a rockstar is like a bicycle to a fish. Fucking useless.” 

That’s what one of the producers had advised him when you were supposed to be in the booth cluelessly recording your portion of a song. Those words crawled into the pit of your stomach, spreading doubt like a disease ever since. 

By the time you’re done spiraling, you’re upstairs seated at the foot of the bed in your hotel room. Contrary to popular belief, your band’s not the type to trash hotel rooms. That’s why you get to book places as beautiful as this with little to no resistance. Everything’s sleek and modern with large three-panel windows that overlook the city. Abstract paintings adorn the walls making it feel more like an art gallery than a place you sleep but the warm overhead lighting saves it from feeling too stuffy.

“Hey, uh, could you shower with me?” Yuta asks, drawing your attention to the bathroom door. It’s only now that you notice the shower running and Yuta standing there in a towel. “I’d shower alone but I have a fear of showers” he adds, “Shower phobia. I’ve had it really bad since I was a kid.” “And Mark says I’m a shitty liar” you tease, flopping back onto the bed.

You can’t see Yuta but you hear him shuffling across the smooth carpeted floor. He stops at your feet, dropping to his knees and laying his head in your lap. Almost on their own, your fingers find a way into his hair and silky strands swirl around them. Yuta breathes in deep, hoping what he says next will soothe you. “You’re enough for me. You know that, right?”

Time seems to freeze and you along with it. Something you love about him, his ability to seemingly always know how you’re feeling, has finally come back to bite you in the ass. Why can’t he just be content pretending nothing happened? 

“Yuta, I—” you say, sitting up enough to catch him staring at you the same way he had in the car. Only this time you don’t dodge his gaze, you let it pull you in. The man looking up at you isn’t the one in the magazines or on stage. There’s no act, only him and a heart pledged to you before you'd even known it. “What happened tonight, I’m sorry” he apologizes, “I can do better. I will.” 

“What? No!” you gasp, bringing you both up so that you’re eye to eye, “Please don’t apologize. That’s not what I wanted.” Still on his knees, Yuta slips his hands beneath your dress, fingers massaging your plush thighs. Touching you isn’t always sexual. Sometimes he just wants to be connected to you. This is one of those times. Feeling your body warm against his palms eases the anxiety knocking around in his head. Even though you’re upset your body still responds with pleasure to him, giving into his touch. That’s how he knows he hasn’t lost you. The day it doesn’t—well, he tries not to imagine that. 

“Do you think I’d cheat on you?” he asks, catching you off guard with his directness. You place a hand on each of his cheeks, squishing them together so his lips purse like the cutest fish you’ve ever seen. Yuta makes little smooching noises and you give him a peck on the lips. “I know you wouldn’t do that” you sigh, relaxing your hold on his cheeks, “But there’s a million girls out there who want you. I’m only one. What if someday you meet a girl and she’s everything you never knew you wanted?”

Yuta says nothing in response, simply staring at you for so long that you want to shake him to see if he’s alive. “There are a million other girls…” he admits, “Which is good for all of the guys I know want you because there’s only one of you and you’re mine.”

“Oh, Yuta, come off it—”

“I’m serious. I don’t give a shit how many girls are out there. You never have to worry about me finding what I never knew I wanted” he promises, gripping your hips to bring you in so tight that your legs are already wrapped around him. His lips brush yours, hitting you with a wicked mixture of chills and hot flashes. “I know who I want,” he whispers, nibbling at your bottom lip, “Who I love. I choose you. No one else. Can you trust that? For me?”

The sincerity in his voice, how it trembles with emotion when he says that he loves you, resonates more than anything he’s ever sung. His hands ease towards your inner thighs and they part for him instantly. The pad of his thumb brushes your clit through your panties and you shudder. “Yes,” you moan between his lips as his mouth captures yours. His kiss is like quicksand, the more you move the faster it drags you in. But there’s nothing to be done about it.

You’re ravenous for each other, your tongues performing an intricate dance that tangles you together. The movement of his thumb against your clit quickens, your hips arching to beg for more. “You love me baby?” he asks, trailing kisses down your chin. Tugging your panties to the side, his fingertips tease the slippery warmth of your entrance. “Yes, I…” you squeak, shivering when his fingers plunge into you, “Love you so much.”

Yuta’s tongue tickles your neck, love bites marking his way to your cleavage. “Tell me I’m yours,” he says, making no attempt to hide how desperate he is to hear you say it. Your walls clench around his fingers. He flexes them in response, the stretch so satisfying that your eyes nearly roll back. “I want you to own it so say it” he urges, pushing in deeper, “Tell me I’m yours.” Your arms come around his neck, your best attempt at staying upright.

“You’re mine. All mine” you moan, the faintest hint of possessiveness peeking through. It’s music to his ears, turning him on to the point that the towel’s virtually useless now in hiding how hard he is. Reaching between your bodies, you take him into your hand to delight in what you’ve done to him. Stroking up and down you feel the blood rushing up his shaft — veins throbbing, his arousal decorating your chipped nail polish.

“Is this mine too?” you joke, teasing the head of his cock with light circular movements. “Fuck, yes. You want it?” he mumbles, his face buried between your tits. He can barely breathe, he’s probably lightheaded, and it’s worth it. Gripping him by the back of the head, you bring him eye to eye with you again. “I want it” you grin, the fullness in your lower belly intensifying.

Yuta sticks his tongue out, curling it to wet his lips. Catching you off guard, he grabs you by the neck and pushes you back on the bed. Keeping you pinned by your neck, his free hand tears your panties to the side. His mouth latches onto your clit, licking and sucking at the sensitive bundle of nerves. You’re completely at his mercy, only able to shake and moan as he devours you. His tongue runs between the petal soft lips of your pussy, your juices the best drink he’s had all night.

“Find someone else?” he scoffs, taking a handful of your belly, “Who else’s pussy tastes this good, hmm?” His tongue slams into you, the hand around your throat bringing you flush against his face.

 “Yuta, oh god — fuck — you can’t say things like that” you whimper, clawing at the sheets.

“Or what?”

Yuta pulls back, his face soaked with your juices, “Is my baby gonna cum if I tell her how good she tastes?” Refusing to wait for your answer, his tongue dips back inside of you. The ridges of your walls glide across his tastebuds, pulsing each time he swirls around and around. He’s relentless, letting up only for quick breaths of air. “So wet and so — mmm — fucking good” he groans, kissing your inner thigh.

When his tongue meets your core again you feel tingling in the tips of your toes and fingers. The tension in your stomach rises, your breaths growing shallow. Yuta releases your neck, locking his arms around your thighs to keep them spread. “That’s it, baby. That’s my girl. Cum for me.”

Pulling his tongue out, he drags it across your clit and sends you crashing over the edge. You throw your hand over your mouth, suppressing the incoherent moans that spill from your lips. Yuta snatches your hand away, holding you by the wrist just in time to hear those last few moans escape. Not missing a beat, he hops up and brings your limp body with him.

Disoriented, the rubbing of your thighs against your core causing some aftershock, you struggle to gain your footing. “You’re trying to kill me” you pout, leaning on him for support. “Why would I do that?” he asks, putting on his best innocent face, “We still have 10 more stops on the tour. The label would kill me.” 

“I can’t stand you!” you say, slapping him on the cheek as softly as you can. Yuta winks, pinching you on the ass, “You’ll live. Now about that shower—” Shaking off the post-orgasm brain fog, you manage to hold yourself up enough to lock lips with him. It’s the clumsiest thing. Kissing, caressing, peeling away your clothes. All while blindly making your way to the shower.

You step into the shower first, expecting Yuta to follow immediately after but he stops short just outside of it.

“Were you, like, serious about that shower phobia thing?”

“No,” he laughs, “I just want to look at you for a second if that’s okay.”

Standing alone in the shower, steamy droplets of water running down the curves of your body, you’re pure perfection. A vine of cherry blossoms travels across your left shoulder, riding your love handles, your hips, down your thigh. He knows how long it took to finish that tattoo. All of the tiny gorgeous details missed by the naked eye. It’s been a secret mission of his to explore every aspect of it. And of you. 

The admiration radiates off of him and you find yourself overcome with shyness. “Dude, come on. You’re making me nervous!” you say, hiding behind the shower curtain. Yuta jumps into the shower, hugging you from the side, “Oh my bad, dude. I call you ‘baby’ and I get ‘dude’?” Paying him no mind, you grab the body wash and begin to cover him in rose-scented bubbles.

“Don’t be a brat. I call you other things too. I call you baby—” Your fingers trace his collarbone. “I call you honey—” They travel across his shoulder, drifting down his back. You pause halfway down, “I call you…daddy.” You don’t even try to hide your amusement when your nails press into his lower back and he whimpers. “You—why would you do that?” Yuta asks, knowing very well why.

It does something for him when you call him that. Something that makes him want to tear you apart in the best way. Leaning against the shower wall, you play with his belly button piercing. “Did I do something wrong, d—ah!” Yuta lifts you up, bringing your legs around his waist. Catching your breath, you hold on tight, terrified to fall.

“I didn’t know you could do that.” Yuta giddily shifts your weight like it’s nothing, thrusting into you, “I know.” Still dripping from your last orgasm, he slips in easily. Almost too easily. There’s no teasing, no taking it slow. Every inch of him is buried deep inside of you. You can’t cover your mouth and the shower does nothing to conceal your overstimulated moans.

Yuta bounces you up and down on his cock. The water raining down on you causes a sharp slapping noise when your bodies come together. “Fuck me harder” you beg, knowing it’ll only make the sound louder. Always here to give you what you want, he fucks into you harder and harder. With every thrust you seem to get tighter, your body so needy for him that it can’t let go. 

They say there’s nothing like it. The rush that you get from a concert. Your heart syncing with the violent bashing of the drums. Well, whoever said that, has no fucking idea what they’re talking about.

Yuta presses your legs back, the head of his cock thick and throbbing as he stimulates your sweet spot. “Baby, it feels too good” he pants, knowing he’s on the brink of coming undone. Purposely clenching as tight as you can, you rock your hips down onto him and he can’t hold out any longer. Now this rush? There’s nothing like this.

The fullness as he cums inside of you makes your second orgasm all the more intense when it consumes you. The two of you float in a state of euphoria somewhere between being out of your body and being hyper-aware of it all at once. Kissing you on the neck, Yuta carefully sets you down on your feet. Unable to hold himself up, he sits down in the bathtub. He holds his arms out to you and you make your way down, cuddling up to him.

“I love you, dude” he mocks, tracing the petals on your tattoo. You groan, rolling your eyes, “Yeah, yeah. I love you too.” You share a laugh at your mutual silliness and then…nothing. Only silence. Your breathing. The running of the water. Your heart and his. You may be in the business of noise but together you’ve found meaning in just being. 

“Our band doesn’t really have a concept, you know? We kinda just do what we want. It’s a vibe” Mark explains to the journalist holding a mic way too close to his face.

When your label booked you for a weekend at one of the biggest festivals in the country they failed to tell you that you had interviews lined up. Let alone ones this painfully boring. So here you are, half dressed outside of your tour bus baking in the summer sun with a camera pointed at your faces.

“And vibes are important!” Johnny throws in, “People…they need vibes because without vibes, who are we? Am I right?” Mark stares into the camera, his mind truly blown, “Bro, that’s…deep.” The interviewer nods, pretending that he understood any of that, “Vibes. Right. So you guys are on another level and—”

Just that moment a group of girls pass by behind the camera. Dressed in their skimpiest festival gear, it takes zero effort on their part to reel Mark and Johnny in. “We are so sorry” Mark apologizes, quietly flirting with the girls, “We gotta go get ready for soundcheck.” “Soundcheck, yes! Gotta keep that sound checked” Johnny says, throwing up a peace sign.

As Mark and Johnny ditch the interview to recruit groupies, the interviewer turns to you and Yuta who’ve been praying that he’d forgotten you were there. “Well, uh, I guess it’s just me and the happy couple, huh?” the man asks, plastering on a smile. The two of you are collectively unmoved, though you’re a bit nicer about it than Yuta.

Like a shark, the interviewer smells blood in the water and the mic is in your face next. “Some would say you’re pretty brave dating a rock star. Aren’t you worried someone might try to steal him away?” You and Yuta share a knowing glance before you snatch the mic from the interviewer.

“No. I mean, have you seen me?” you ask, almost glowing as Yuta showers you with kisses, “Next question.” But there is no next question. You hand the mic to Yuta and walk off to avoid saying something you’ll regret. 

“And then there was one. So I’m here with lead singer—”

“Yikes, sorry. I have…interview phobia? Yeah” Yuta lies, beginning to back out of frame before you get too far away. Nearly defeated and totally at a loss, the interviewer tries one more time to bait Yuta back in. “I was hoping we could finish this. Maybe I could ask a few more questions.” Yuta pretends to consider it for dramatic effect. “Better idea, you should pull out your phone and stream our new single ‘Don't Ask My Girlfriend Stupid Shit’.” 

Noticing that Yuta’s still holding onto the microphone, you run back to steal it. “Parenthesis, thanks for the brand new mic, asshole!” you cackle, holding the metallic purple equipment up like a Grammy. You disappear again, this time with some new equipment. Yuta just shrugs, waving goodbye to the camera, “Love of my life.” 

[catfern]

outback.

in support of palestine ∙ the reality of tlou ∙ resources

pairing: trucker!abby x afab!reader

music: her - unloved

word count: 1.7k

summary: the night shift at a remote petrol station sounded like easy double pay. but nights get lonely. you've gotta find something to keep yourself entertained.

warnings: porn with a smidgen of plot, fingering, some perverted staring, tiny tiny implied age gap, australia. this is rlly just porn

fern says ⎯ THIS ONE IS FOR ALL THE AUSSIES IN THE AUDIENCE MAKE SOME NOISE!!!!!! this truly is self indulgent cause i miss flirting with hot women who call me darl.

you brought this on yourself, really.

the pale blue of the bug zapper fought a contrast with the dying fluorescents, painting half the aisles in an eery, twilight movie shade. the heat of a high december night was creeping, clinging to your shitty polyester uniform as you camp out in front of the only standing fan.

you had begged for a job, pleaded for it really, in the wickedness of this economic climate. you had run, tail between your legs, from your local chain grocery at the sight of the price of an avocado, and thrown yourself at the feet of the next passing employer. like a squire to the knights of old.

you just hadn’t expected it would be this job.

the gatekeeper of one of the last vestiges of civilisation. the night shift at a deserted highway petrol station.

the flickering floodlights by the pumps fighting an uphill battle to keep the creeping night at bay, you can do nothing but stare, eyes adjusting, ‘unadjusting’, readjusting to the dark over and over again. you’d had a total of two customers since you took over from the day shift crew. one just threw a gatorade your way in exchange for the bathroom key.

the high beam headlights of an oncoming truck shake you from your fading thoughts, baking you into the linoleum tile as you squint, blind. asshole.

you’d been warned about truckers, briefly. handsy rednecks, your manager had called them in passing while giving you a tour of the storage room. desperate old fucks who crawl like dogs to anything with a hole.

you watch with an almost bated breath as the peeling yellow cabin of the long-haul truck pulls into park, your eyes following its jaunty movement through the glass of the front windows. you’re starting to think maybe you should have brought an illegal switchblade to work. if you had one.

you avert your gaze quick, grabbing at something from the magazine rack in desperate hopes to appear disinterested, unapproachable. 15 Ways to Homeschool Your Kids. sure, that works.

the bell above the door chimes, you spy the scuffed leather boots crossing the plastic tiling with heavy footfall. 

“y’got a lounge?”

standing at the counter, you have to admit, she’s not what you pictured when you saw the truck. not that what you see is at all worth of complaint.

a thin sheen of sweat clings to her, echoes of the heat of the road. her skin is flushed, the contour of her muscle sitting, almost man-made, in a thin, cotton singlet. her hair is tied tight, her features, sharp, discerning, eyeing you down. you try not to stare, too obviously, at the soft outline of her nipple piercings beneath her shirt.

“hm?” you’re distracted.

“a lounge, darl. trucker lounge?” she repeats slowly with a bite of a smirk, looking at you like you were only a little bit stupid. your stomach drops with the honey of the nickname.

your eyes dart around the small space of the shop. you barely had space for the 3 aisles and the dingy bathroom. you clear your throat, trying to shake the feeling of fascination, “oh — uh, nah.”

she scoffs, a wicked, small laugh, before retreating to browse the snack section.

you watch her, when you think she isn’t looking. small, caught glimpses in your feigned disinterest. she’s been on the road long, a tension in the broadness of her shoulders obvious as she readjusts her posture, eyeing the chips. you try bury whatever rears its head in your stomach when you hear her groan as she squats to better see the canned fruit. a roughness in her voice, lead with age and smoke.

you drop your reading material and smile, tight lipped, polite, as she approaches the counter. a cold meat pie and a ginger beer.

"and uh — pack'a rothmans, thanks, love.”

you nod, turning to wrestle with the rusting cigarette cage behind the counter, when you hear her chuckle, breathy and deep as she talks,

“y’look a little young to have kids.”

spinning back so quick you make yourself dizzy, you swipe the shitty magazine off the counter, discarded and unimportant, “nah, i… i was just bored.”

she rakes her eyes over you, slow, and you can’t help but feel the pull, magnetic, a knot in your stomach as she studies you. you feel caught in a trap, under her gaze. looking up at her, her looming presence is becoming all too real.

you slide the pack of cigarettes over the counter, trapped meeting her eye. a smile, something sly, plays on her lips as she thanks you, moving to catch a breeze of the fan.

an uncomfortable beat of silence passes between you. well, it’s uncomfortable for you. no longer able to hide behind disinterest behind glossy paper, you instead wrestle with yourself to seem at least neutrally interested, not utterly obsessed. you wring your hands behind the shelter of the till.

the woman shakes a cigarette free from the pack, holding it between the skin of her lips. “you smoke?” she’s looking at you, through the corner of her eye.

no, never.

“uh, yeah.”

you follow her out the shop, tied to her artificial shadow in the fluorescents. something is crawling in the night, when you step outside. a cicada silence echoes across the gathering dirt and dust.

she offers you the cig she had been holding, you take it gingerly, holding it in your mouth as she holds her lighter up. she brings her hand to cup the flame, to keep the absent breeze from destroying it. you feel, just slightly, the brush of her calloused palms against the low of your cheek, and you pray that the navy hue of the bug zapper is enough to hide the heat on your skin.

smoke fills your lungs, foreign and quick, an itch inside you that feels impossible. you cough and splutter to the chorus of her raspy laughter.

“you haven’t smoked a day in your life.” she says with a lopsided smile, plucking the cigarette from your hand and bringing it to her lips, taking a long, constrastly confident draw.

you shake your head in between wheezes, “is that what everyone is always going on about?”

“you’ll get used to it, here,” 

she hands it back to you, you feel obliged to take it. to try again, as she so quietly commands. your second go is met with an only slightly irritating tickle in your throat.

“that’s it, good girl,” something that seems so unsure rolls off her like syrup, something you had never known you were so desperate for. her hand finds the small of your back, her fingers dancing circles in something akin to comfort, to praise.

you look up to find her eyes already on you, tracing the contours of your neck in icy blue form.

the smell of artificial pine and day-old dust clings to her, swallows you whole as you fall victim to her touch, light-headed and weak at the knees as her breath fills your lungs.

she’s nothing if not vocal, desperation falling from her lips in tortured moans as she presses herself into the crook below your jaw, drawing your soft skin beneath her teeth, softly licking the littered aftermath, a trail down your chest.

she’s quick to undress you, pulling impatiently at the scratchy fabric of your worn company polo shirt. she’s not phased by any forgotten need for privacy, for decency. she’s only here in passing, after all.

“oh, sweetheart,”

the lace of your bra is a temptation not lost on her, a delight she so happily indulges in after days on the road. in some perverted part of her mind, you wore it for her. maybe, in some cosmic, fated way, you did.

her hands snake down your body, helping themselves to the lux of your curves as her lips press, all-consuming, against yours. her fingers lightly spreading your legs, a mean chuckle souring the kiss.

she’s not at all easy, or kind, the way she pulls you open, watches you fall apart in the brutality of her control. she touches you like she aims to destroy you, her fingers working relentlessly to the pull of your walls, unheard to your pleas to — please, slow down.

“that’s it, darling. come on,” it’s sharp, delirious and oh so pleased to hear you, a whisper tickling the dip of your chest, watching you through the blonde of her eyelashes as you throw your head back, your body rocking to the rhythm she sets.

“p-please, fuck, jesus, fuck!” if she was any meaner, she would have laughed. but god, she’s distracted. driven mad by her own dripping need.

“you wanna come, baby? yeah, yeah?” she’s slowing down, and you chase her question with a desperate, shakey nod. “yeah, you do. come here.”

she takes your hand in hers, delicate, kind, a wicked contrast. under the guidance of her touch, you grip the stiff denim of her jeans, tender, unsure, until she leads you to the heat between her legs and you nearly melt. her hand goes to fiddle with her belt, her eyes finding yours, bleary, in the haze.

“think you can help me out, sweetheart?” she nods along with you, and you’re unsure if she’s copying you, or you are her.

“yeah — i can, please, please,” you whine, your hips still rutting a lazy pace against the now stagnant force inside you. your hand pulls, impatiently, at the waistband of her cotton boxers, pulling them down to sit unceremoniously at her hips.

“fuck, good girl,” she seethes at the languid circles you draw on her clit, gentle and paced, as you chase your own euphoria on her fingers, “come on,” a whisper, hot on your neck, “i’ll go faster if you do, darlin’.”

you pick up in a daze, so compliant to the whim of her demand, so desperate to feel her calloused fingers trace the tide against your centre. rushing that feeling, wretched to have her tear you apart.

her fingers rock against you without care, wrenching every ragged moan from the cut of your throat as her speed picks up, “that’s it, fuck, you feel so good, sweetness. keep — keep going.” hoarse whispers against your chest as she presses sloppy, undone kisses to the ghosts of your ribcage.

you watch, above the broadness of her shoulder, as a peak of the sun paints the horizon a muddy pink, your moans a soundtrack to the emptiness of the desert as you practically bounce on the stranger’s fingers, loud for your own release.

yeah, you lost your job.

⎯ kofi

taglist; @whore4abby @endureher @beemillss @afraidofheightss @sentimentalyellow

[chaotic-iguana]

how about a five where Javi rejects the reader, so the reader like gets really sad, but one day Javi hears she is going on a date (is not true, Murphy made it up) and he rushed to her apartment and confesses and reader is like ?? What are you talking about, super angsty but super fluffy? Pleaseeee

Out of time | javier peña x f! reader 

summary: javi rejects reader. repents like the idiot he is. (i love him) he is a FOOL in love. fight me. 

wordcount: 2.1k

warnings: rejection, angst and fluff, hurt and comfort basically, happy ending. 

A/N: i got you, anon. this promt is the perfect apology for the last one. repentance fr. love u ALL. let me know what you think. also nothing against “hippies” just giving murphy pov. i do however as an indian have a  bone to pick with fake white yoga gurus. it’s gotta be appropriation. 

masterlist

Javi had never been heartless before. Never been cruel before. Now, as you pointedly hunched over your desk in an effort to ignore the chortles and cheap jokes that kept sounding from the men crowded around his desk as they all stood around a nameless note someone -you- had slipped onto his desk. 

He laughed boisterously with them, before crumpling the paper in his fist and dropping it into the bin next to his chair. You refused to so much as raise your head and look his way, feeling the crushing wave of heartbreak sweeping through you. It wasn’t until you felt a tear on your cheek that you realised that you had started crying, and so you muttered an excuse about getting some coffee before rushing to the bathroom and sobbing in a closed stall. So much for Valentine’s day. 

It wasn’t until the end of the day, when you saw him walking your way in the parking lot, that you met his eyes. And you could see, with the set of his jaw; the arch of his brows, that he knew. Before you could scramble into your car, he was yelling after you. 

“Is your new hobby being extended to everyone or did I win the lucky draw? Cute note.” 

Oh, that bastard. 

You scoffed, looking him straight in the eye. “Call it a moment of weakness, Peña. Thought I felt something for you, and it was Valentine’s day. Pretty sure all I feel now is rage, you asshole.” 

A laugh from him. “Don’t be like that, hermosa. Let me know if you feel something between your legs for me, alright?”

Scowling, you turned from him and got into your car. You could have sworn he looked like a kicked puppy as you pulled out of the parking. These past few weeks, you had caught him looking at you more often. Finding excuses to touch you more often, too. A hand on your back, fingers accidentally grazing yours, his knee pressed against your thigh in Murphy’s backseat. Fucking idiot. You didn’t even know if you were madder at him or yourself. You know him. All of fucking Bogota knows him. God knows how you were foolish enough to think he felt anything except for between his legs. 

A few months go by, excruciatingly slowly. It’s as if time itself has decided to fuck with you. You miss his gaze on you, his hands, his smile, him. You’ve been avoiding him like the plague. Stopped looking at him even when he was in the same room, hardly spoke to him even if it was in the middle of a raid, declined Connie’s many many invitations to parties you knew he’d be at. It was just easier to pretend that February the 14th had been a completely normal day. You’re just tired of all of it. It would have been easier not to have said anything at all. 

What you were completely unaware of, however, was that you had a sneaky little shit for a partner. The fact that he had clocked what was going on immediately was completely unbeknownst to you. Both of you pining silently with what Steve dubbed “moony heart eyes”, the radio silence, and the fact that you had stopped talking to Connie just so you didn’t have to show up to her parties? Something had gone wrong. Initially, Steve thought that maybe Javi had made an unwanted move on you - and had damn near scuffed him to death - until he saw Javi’s eyes the next day. Haunted. It seemed that you had managed to take more out of the man than Escobar had. But you weren’t faring much better, either. Irritated and tired and grumbly all the time, refusing to so much as look in Javi’s direction. But you both were pretty much just staying out of each other’s ways, not causing any trouble, so he let it go. For now. 

But then Steve and Javi had to chase a lead down together, and Javi introduced him to an informant who - with a little imagination - looked like your spitting image. The same hair, terrifying similar voice, and a lopsided grin, just like yours. And it clicked. The day that had started it all, and the “anonymous” note Javi had gotten. The idiocy with which you both had handled the situation made him want to run unarmed into a sicario’s den, but he came up with another idea instead. 

Just before a weekend he knew on good authority that you had no plans except for lounging in bed, he started nudging and hinting to Javi the randomest shit about you. Just to reignite the interest. Almost like, you know - bait. 

“Man, her hair looks good. I wonder if she got it done?”

“Hey Peña, d’ya reckon that’s a new skirt? Connie’d kill me if I didn’t ask where from”

“Javi - look - she got her nails done. Before an op? Doesn’t that get a bit…impractical? Hey, I’m jus’ asking.” 

Each time, Steve was met with an irritated eyeroll, scoff, or just flat-out ignored. But around midnight on Friday, he ‘bust out the big guns’, so to speak, making an offhanded comment while jutting his chin out in the direction of your chair. 

“Good thing she left early. Never woulda made it to the date tomorrow mornin’ otherwise.”

Which, instead of being met with the usual options, was met with Javi’s brain almost short circuiting. The sight of his friend, gaping like a fish as his eyes practically bulged out of his head while he stammered out the easiest one-syllable word in the English language is one Steve can never forget. Or let Javi forget, either. 

“W-wha-what?”

And so, like the most devious matchmaker on the planet, Steve proceeded to make up some utter bullshit about a boy he’d supposedly seen you around with, one that had apparently asked you out tonight to meet him for ‘brunch’ tomorrow. Just to fuck with Javi, he made the guy from LA, and a tourist. And white. And the kinda hippie who did yoga and spoke about his newly-discovered chakras all the time. 

Javier could feel the blind panic clawing at his chest, his heart threatening to burst. He didn’t know exactly why, but he had hated every single second you hadn’t spoken to him. Laughed at his jokes. Flashed him your smile, even the sarcastic one. He missed your quips and the way you groaned and swore at him when he pissed you off. He’d convinced himself he could live with that. But this? A date with some idiot he knew wouldn’t treat you right? He couldn’t understand his own feelings compelling him to pack up in a frenzy, ignore Steve’s pointed laugh, scramble into his car and drive straight to your apartment. He didn’t even stop to smooth his hair back, or fix the wrinkles in his shirt from slumping in it all day. No, all that mattered to him in that moment was you. Who was he kidding? He knew exactly why he felt the way he did. He’d just been under the illusion that ignoring it would make it go away, but it hadn’t. He had to fix this now. 

Standing on your doorstep, Javi blinked for a second while marveling at how fast that drive had been - he’d barely registered doing anything since he heard the word date come out of Steve’s mouth. Hesitation clamped a hand over his mouth, his body, and he stood frozen, unsure of whether to knock or just turn around. But if not now, never, right? And who knew how long he would live? Wasn’t this a time he should be getting what he wants, spending time with the people he…loves? 

Before he could overthink himself out of doing it, Javi raised his fist and rapped it against your door, twice. And when you opened the door, rubbing your eyes and standing there in your sleep shorts and an oversized shirt, it took a second for his brain to catch up. It wasn’t until you were squinting at him, then stumbling over nothing as your eyes widened that he realised where he was. The hurt on your face in the split second before you moved to close the door had him jamming his foot in the doorframe. 

“Just hear me out, hermosa. I promise if you want me to fuck off after that, I will.” 

After waiting for you to nod and open your door wordlessly, he stalked after you, further into your apartment, stunned by how homely it was. The walls had pictures of you and other people laughing, of art and paintings and sketches that seemed to all have been done by the same person; the sofa was a rich brown leather and the fluffy throw on it just a shade lighter. Everything was carefully coordinated, in color and texture, and he couldn’t help but note the contrast. Some of his stuff was still in boxes. He’d been in Colombia for longer than you, and his stuff was still in boxes. The difference was laughable. 

But when he heard a sniffle from ahead, he found himself walking faster - practically walking into you - before he was planting his hands on your shoulders to turn you around to him, and then gripping the sides of your arms as if they were his salvation. His eyes searched yours, and the heartbreak he found as you tried to look away threatened to make his knees buckle. So he hooked an index finger under your chin to tilt your head up to him, resting his forehead against yours. Moving his thumb to smooth out the furrow in your brow, he huffed at the stubborn frown that refused to budge. 

“I am sorry. I truly am. I didn’t know what to do, I didn’t know how to react. I want you, and I did then, too. But I just…didn’t think it was real. I swear I thought you were joking at first. It’s why I let the guys see. Then I saw you in the parking lot, and you were actually sad, and I just panicked. I just don’t think I was ready back then. But I swear to God, I can’t bear another six months of the cold shoulder. I love you, you know. I’ve just been too much of an idiot to realise it.” 

For a whole minute, you just stare at him unblinkingly. Then, suddenly, your face crumples, limbs slackening in his grip. He holds you through it, letting you sob into his chest as he coos reassurances and apologies to you until you pull back from his embrace to look at him questioningly once more. 

“Why now?” Your words make Javi smile, and he cocks a brow at you. 

“You really thought I’d let that idiot take you out before I told you how I feel?” 

You look even more confused now, which is confusing him in turn. 

“Wait, what idiot?” There’s no twinkle in your eye - no smirk tugging at your lips. Not a joke. 

“The one who…asked you out?” Javi cocks his head at you, watching your frown deepen. 

“Who?” The absolute befuddlement on your face is on the verge of making him snigger, and he feels his lips twitching already. 

“The-does Murphy know? That you weren’t busy tonight?” His overworked mind supplies the answer to him, and he has never more in his life wanted to punch and hug his other partner simultaneously. 

“Oh, yeah. He asked cause Connie wanted to know if she could come over? I guess she must have gotten caught- oh. Oh.” Javi gives you a moment to reach the same conclusion he did, and both of you end up bursting out in laughter at the same time. 

But Steve was the one with the biggest grin when, come Monday morning, a bottle of premium whiskey and a brand new watch sat on his desk with a little note: 

Well played, motherfucker. 

What is it they say about couples adopting each other’s habits when they get into a relationship? Javi’d picked up your so-called hobbies within a weekend. 

You ended up spending enough time with each other to pick up everything else, too. Call it cliché, but atleast you weren’t boring. Or, you know, going on dates with imaginary guys that existed only in Steve’s extremely limited imagination. Win-win. 

hello loves, as always - thank you for reading. comment your thoughts or find me on ao3. stay hydrated and have a great day! taglist: @imherefordeanandbones @theywhowriteandknowthings, @josephquinnswhore,@millerscoffee, @ nostalxgic, @sscorpiiiio, @pedrosaidsheispunk dividers by @reveriesources

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

Girl I’m so sorry I was dumb😭😭😭😭🙏 you already did an ask from me so literally feel so free to ignore this I’m so sorry but “you’ve never said my name like that” in the fwb prompt list for dick because, as once stated, I am indeed a slut with priorities. My priorities are him. I need him to be real rn

alec be GRATEFUL that i finished this in like a few hours. literally on the way to a wedding. no but seriously happy to give you some good dick😏 “you never said my name like that” from the friends with benefits prompt

pairing: dick grayson x fem!reader (use of y/n) wc: 888

500 celebration

you weren’t sure when this…thing happened between you and dick. you became friends at the age of fifteen in your ninth grade english class, found out he was the robin fighting alongside batman at age eighteen and now ages twenty three and twenty four the both of you came to an agreement of being friends with benefits. most of the benefits were sex and that was the best benefit, but there was moments where dick would slide into a more boyfriend vibe and it hurt your heart, in a good way. but it caused your heart to hurt cause if he was showing the gentle and attentive side after both of you were sweaty and catching stolen breaths, why couldn’t he just ask to be your boyfriend?

this was the question rolling around in your head as you’re back to the same scenario of laying tangled in dick’s dark blue sheets, hair a bit of a riot and clinging to your sticky skin. the sheets pulled to your chest with one knee in the air near the edge of the bed, droopy eyes watching as the man in question pulled his discarded boxers over his ass and waistband snapping to his skin.

“want something to eat? i got some of your ice cream in the freezer.” his left knee sunk into the mattress as he pressed his palms beside your covered leg. one hand moving to sit on the muscle, his thumb moving back and forth without his knowing.

“uh, yeah. yeah, that sounds good and some water, please.” shuffling against the headboard, flashing a simple smile.

dick’s watchful irises moved over your face before he smiled and leaned forward, his plush lips catching yours in a dizzying kiss. you couldn’t help but hum and chase him when he pulled away. his boyish chuckles warmed your ears.

“easy, baby,” voice thick and low, “gotta rest before another round starts.” he winked and left the room.

your heart was beating just as fast when you were doing…physical activities five minutes ago. these were the moments where your head got confused, not understanding when this invisible line was being crossed.

suddenly your mind was telling you to leave and go back to your sad and lonely apartment, so you listened. throwing the wrinkled sheets away you started to redress as you found pieces of your discarded clothing. underwear, socks, pants, bra…. missing. shirt also vanished into air so you dogged into dick’s closet and pulled out a sweater, the warm cotton wrapping you in a hug.

“hey, where- where are you going?” his words wavered along with the creak of the door moving.

you hopped like a bunny trying to stuff your feet back into your shoes, “i- i uh, think it’s best if i head home. got my benefits from my friend.” you looked up, the ice cream and water sitting on his dresser. dick standing tall and strong, trying to hide nerves pulling his muscles tight. he pushed some hair behind his ear, “y/n, what- what are you saying? that this is all just sex?”

now you scuffed, “well we aren’t in a relationship. but you bundle me in these moments of genuine affection and- and possibly love, but you haven’t bothered to change this dynamic.” facing him with your hands slapping your thighs.

“y/n… i just… i didn’t want to ruin anything.” he took steps closer, hands scrubbing over his face.

“you know,” your voice going quiet, “you’ve never said my name like that before.” such an odd thing to say during a sudden argument, but you couldn’t help yourself.

his brows scrunched in the middle, “what?”

you licked your lips, “the way you said my name. it just sounded… breathless. like taking a giant gasp of air after being underwater for too long.” the words just spilled out your mouth, not knowing if you were making sense.

dick took two more steps, gaining closer to your space. he raised a hand and pushed it back to his side, restricting himself. “well, you're like oxygen to me. i constantly need you to stay level headed. you keep me balanced. that’s why i was thrown off guard when you said this was just about sex. cause to me it’s not.” two more steps and with just an inch of space the two of you were chest to chest.

he finally raised his hands, cupping your warm cheeks against rough skin. “is it for you? is this just sex?” his adam’s apple bobbed with the thick swallow he took, waiting for the answer that will change everything.

with steady hands your fingers circled his wrists, middle and thumb almost touching. you held steady eye contact, no need to be flinching away from this truth you’ve held in for seven years.

“dick grayson, i have wanted you since tenth grade when i felt certain emotions when girls would flirt with you or when i’d watch you workout. this is more than sex for me, but it was the only way i could have you at the time, too afraid to say these simple words. but i’m not afraid anymore.”

you pushed up on your toes to get closer to dick’s waiting lips, parted in anticipation. “i’ve fallen for you dick grayson.”

-

[romeoandjulietyouwish]

bloody nose

this was inspired by a hc by @golden-scathed-clouds

read on ao3

 Darry didn’t even know what to do when he got the call. He’d gotten used to getting calls from the police station, usually Dally or Two-Bit asking him to come pick them up. He always did, giving them a stern talking to on the way home. 

So when the officer on the phone stated his name, the first thing Darry said was, “Who is it this time?”

“I have Ponyboy Curtis with me.”

Darry froze, sure that he heard wrong, “Ponyboy?”

Papers rustled as the officer double checked his paperwork, “Yes, that’s right. He listed you as his guardian. We picked him up this afternoon.”

“Why?” Darry asked urgently. Across the room, he saw Soda and Steve watching him in concern.

“He and another young man got into an altercation. Mr. Curtis, your brother pulled a blade on him.” Darry’s mind raced. That didn’t sound anything like his little brother. He avoided fighting ever since Dally and Johnny. 

“Is he being charged with anything?” That was the most important thing. Formal charges would mean an investigation, it would mean CPS getting involved and more trials and hearings. It could mean his brothers getting taken away from him. Darry’s hands shook as he waited for an answer.

“That is still being decided.” The officer sighed, “Look, Ponyboy is a first timer, his sheet is clean. We’re not going to hold him overnight, though we have cause to do so. You can come pick him up.”

“I’m on my way.” Darry hung up the phone and turned to Soda and Steve who had come closer. He dragged a hand down his face. “Pony was arrested, I gotta go pick him up.”

“You sure they got the right kid?” Steve asked, arms crossed. 

“Apparently.” Darry moved past them and shoved his feet in his boots. Soda opened his mouth, but Darry cut him off, “No, you can’t come. They probably haven’t given him something to eat so could you whip something up.”

It worked just like Darry knew it would. Given a clear directive and purpose, Soda looked determined. He nodded. “Just don’t be too hard on him.”

Darry shook his head, “This is serious shit. I’ll deal with it how I see fit.” Without saying anything more, he left the house, letting the screen door slam behind him. 

The entire drive to the station, his hands gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles. Ponyboy never used his head. And now that might get him and Soda taken away. Not to mention court fees if it came to that. Darry slammed his hand onto the steering wheel in frustration. 

What the fuck was Pony thinking? 

By the time Darry pulled into a parking space, he was fuming. He’d been getting better about his anger, really he had. But god, this threw it all out the window. Darry was afraid, so fucking afraid. And the only way he knew how to deal with it was anger.

He stormed into the police station, gave his name, and was promptly escorted to an officer’s desk. Ponyboy sat in the chair beside it, scuffing his Converse on the linoleum. His head was bowed and his hair fell into his face. His leg jogged underneath him, hands twisted together. 

The officer rose and shook Darry’s hand. Darry didn’t want to lose his temper, not in the middle of the police station so he kept his eyes locked on the office as he explained the next steps. They wouldn’t know whether charges were going to be pressed until the next day at the earliest. Ponyboy was instructed to stay inside and not leave town. 

That was easy enough, Darry thought, he wouldn’t let Pony leave the house until he was eighteen at the earliest.

“You’ll be hearing from me soon,” the officer said, handing Darry a business card. With a sharp nod towards his brother, Darry started walking out of the station. 

He felt Pony trailing behind but didn’t look at him, not until they were back in the truck and the doors shut them off from the rest of the world. He didn’t start the car, just looked over at his brother, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Pony flinched ever so slightly and for a moment, Darry’s heart clenched. Pony still didn’t meet his eyes. 

“Did you even think about what this could mean for you? For Soda? They would have every right to take you away from me now and I-” Darry slammed his hand on the steering wheel. “You could have thrown away your entire future with that shit you pulled.”

Pony still didn’t say anything. He stayed hidden behind the curtain of ungreased hair.

“Goddamnit it, Pony, look at me when I’m talking to you,” Darry snapped. Ponyboy did and Darry thought his heart was going to break in two. 

Pony’s eyes were full of tears, some fell and carved rivers down his sharp cheekbones. A bruise was already blossoming near his left eye. Dried blood circled his nostrils and his lip was split. And his lip was trembling as he cried silently. 

While Darry was stunned in silence, Pony used his sleeve to wipe away tears and snot, taking some dried blood with it. “I’m sorry. I-I didn’t use my head.”

And, golly, if that didn’t just break his heart. 

Darry dragged a hand down his face, “What happened, kid?”

Ponyboy drew his knees to his chest, leaning back in the car seat. His jeans had more scuffs and holes than Darry remembered. “I was playing basketball with Curly and these guys came up. They started saying shit about-” Pony’s breath got stuck in his throat, the way it always did before mentioning, “Johnny and Dally. They kept saying that they deserved to die and everything is better without them. And-And they’re nothing more than greasy hoods.”

Ponyboy ended with a sob, his hand covering his mouth. 

Darry had never been more thankful for his truck, allowing him to move over and pull his brother into a hug with no obstacles. Pony turned against him, sobbing into his shoulder.

Darry held Pony as tight as he could. He hadn’t seen Pony cry this hard since the funerals. He sobbed almost every night up until the bodies were in the ground. Then it stopped all of a sudden. Darry knew better than to think that it meant he was over it. Pony turned in on himself, getting snappier and angrier. His grads slipped. He all but stopped eating.

Darry knew it was leading up to a breaking point. He never thought it would be this. The last thing he would ever imagine is his baby brother getting into a fight and pulling a knife on someone. This was the same kid that read poetry for fun and had dreams bigger than all of Tulsa. 

“I’m sorry,” Pony sobbed. “I-I didn’t think about you or Soda. I was just so angry.”

“I know.” Darry rested his chin on Pony’s head. “Hell, I probably would have done the same if I heard anyone say shit like that. I’m sorry I got so upset.”

He felt Pony shake his head. “I messed up, Dar. I messed up really bad.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Darry promised. He didn’t know if it was a promise he could fulfill but it didn’t matter. His brother needed to know that he had it under control. He didn’t, but Darry had a lot of practice like pretending that he did.

Pony pulled back and looked up at Darry, “It’s going to be okay?”

“Yeah, buddy.” Darry smoothed his hair back. “It’s going to be okay if I have anything to say about it.” With a final kiss to Pony’s forehead, Darry moved back to the driver’s seat. “Soda’s making food, I’m sure they didn’t feed you.” Pony shook his head. “Then we’ll get some ice on your cheek.”

Pony sniffed and wiped at his tears again, “Okay.” Then he looked over at Darry again, “I really am sorry.”

“I know,” Darry gave him a soft smile and squeezed the back of his neck. Pony seemed to relax a little at that. 

It was amazing to so clearly see the calming effect he had on the kid. After everything, the trust between him and Pony took time to repair. It wasn’t easy. There were more arguments and tears and cold shoulders. And now, it was so easy for Ponyboy to trust that Darry had his back, that he would do is best to make sure things were okay.

“I’m proud of you,” Darry added as they pulled out of the parking lot. When Pony looked over at him in surprise, Darry laughed. “I saw that kid’s mugshot, you kicked his ass.”

Pony tried to hide a smile, “Yeah, I did.”

“Good, now I don’t have to.”

Ponyboy laughed and Darry couldn’t help but join him. 

[amplifiedmoan]

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝑻𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉

Pairing: Shuri Udaku x Black!fem reader

Warnings: Smut (18+), mentions of drinking, long distance relationship, phone sex, masturbation, vibrator usage, switch!Reader, switch!Shuri, just overall slutty behavior.

Word Count: 1.7k+

Synopsis: Just read it mf! 😒

Author’s Note: This is my first completed fanfic in a long time! I am a little rusty so please bare with me… I do love criticism when it comes to my writing, so feel free to share your thoughts!

There you were, standing in front of Shuri at the Airport. Another successful visit that will most definitely end in tears. You quickly looked away from her, as said tears began parting through your bottom lashes uncontrollably, coating your brown cheeks. You were severely emotionally attached to her and it was showing. “Ndicela ungaqalisi, Y/N.” (Please don’t start) Shuri said softly, whilst pulling you into her chest. The smell of the Wakandan cologne on her hoodie, casted a spell on you. These were the moments you dreaded the most. She relaxed her chin onto your head gently, as a deep breath broke free.

“One more day?” You whispered. Her jaw clenched at the thought of leaving you. You knew what she was going to say but it would hurt you even more not to ask. The young woman slowly let go of you, so you released your grasp on her. “I’m afraid I can not stay any longer. I have to be back in a few hours.” She voiced. Under her tight curls, were red and watery eyes just like yours. Shuri didn’t dare let those tears escape though. She knew exactly what that would do to you. The image of her crying would have you balled up in a corner for days.

“I love you, Sithandwa sam.” (My darling) Shuri pouted, before kissing you on your head and then on your soft, plump lips. “I love you always, Shuri.” You handed her a neck pillow and she chuckled before placing it onto her shoulders. “Always?” She asked, already knowing the answer of course. She loved getting reassurance from you. “Always.” You responded.

You walked away from her. As you made your way around the car, you fought the urge to jump into her suitcase. Knowing Shuri, she wouldn’t even take you out of it. She’s been wanting you to come back to Wakanda with her even before you two started dating. Shuri is completely aware of the way she makes you feel. One time she set up a surprise visit, unbeknownst to you of course... And thanks to Riri, she caught you in the middle of the club trying not cry to a love song.

“You’ll text me when you arrive back on campus, yeah?” She shouted, walking towards the automatic doors. It was more of a command and you knew that. “Of course, baby. Be safe.” Was all you had left to say, before the horrible, empty feeling creeped up into your chest. “I will. And you too, usana!” (baby) Shuri smiled and gave you a small wave, before disappearing behind those doors.

“So why didn’t you just go with her?” Riri asked while untying her shoelaces, leaning against her bed for support. “I’ve got my Mama here and school… I can’t just leave everything behind.” You scuffed at her impractical words. You sat up against your headboard with a tragic romance book in your hand. If it were easy for you to dip out and just go live in Wakanda, you obviously would.

Riri placed her hand on her hip and pointed in your direction. “Alright, but this continuous crying every time she leaves gotta stop. I got Deferential Equations class in the morning and I can’t be listening to yo ass sobbing into your pillows all night.” She laughed as she watched you reach for a pillow to throw at her. The pillow flung swiftly and hit her right in the head. You began laughing as well.

“My girls will be here in 20.” Riri glanced at you and then her attention was planted back into the mirror. Partying was sort of Riri’s thing… She would drink and drink until the bartender would start to question her. It was a little concerning, but she was grown. She was never late to any of her classes in the morning and she took good care of herself.

“You coming?” She asked, while applying a little bit of mascara onto her lashes. You had been in your dorm bed for hours at a time, ever since you dropped Shuri off at the Airport. You understand the fact that she is now the Queen of Wakanda and the Black Panther. However, it was nights like this where you wanted to be selfish, and keep her all to yourself.

“Nah… I’m waiting for Shuri to call, so we can go to sleep.” You muttered softly, while plugging your phone up to charge. “Aw, y’all so damn cute.” Riri chuckled, before grabbing her purse. You knew she’d be out for a few hours and that meant you’d have all the precious time alone… with your girlfriend.

“Mmmm… fuck!” You wined, as you held your vibrator onto your puffy, abused clit. You laid on your bed completely naked with a towel underneath you, catching anything wandering down your pussy. Shuri’s voice hitched through the phone, as she also toyed with herself.

The phone sat on your chest while both of your moans circled throughout the room. “Ah shit!” You screamed, trying to hold out for Shuri. You weren’t sure how much longer you could keep this up, before you came again. “Oh, fuck!” You cried. Your 2nd orgasm of the night, taking over your entire being. You continued to circle your vibrator around your sensitive bud, gasping for air.

“Keep it there.” Shuri said with a whisper that was loud enough to be heard by you. Your eyes widened at the thought of the overstimulation.

“I… can’t!” You wined as it all became too much very quickly.

“Yes… Yes you can.” Shuri said as she continued to run circles around her own clit. You could hear the desperation in her voice. The need for you to just deal with it. “Pretend that it’s me, usana.” (baby) She said lowly, her body began trembling as she chased her release. So that’s exactly what you did. You pictured Shuri’s slim fingers parting your lips delicately. You imagined her sucking and playing with your little ball of nerves, just like your toy was. “Feel it?” She asked and you pressed the toy down much harsher than before. Your body jolted at the vigorous touch.

Shuri rubbed her weak spot a bit faster, once she realized you were close. She always knew when you were about to cum. Shuri knew your body entirely too well. The certain sounds you’d make, gave her all of the ammunition she needed to drive you completely insane.

“Yes…yes!” Your cries were like music to her ears. Just hearing the deep breaths you were taking, pushed her closer over the edge. “Fuck, YN!” She hollered as she began riding out her own orgasm. “Nceda nceda!” (please please) she whispered into the phone.

Whenever Shuri spoke Xhosa, you instantly became wet. Although in this case, you were already drenched. It was something about her speaking her mother tongue, when English couldn’t exactly describe the way you made her feel. It made your walls clasp around air.

“Yeah… let me hear.” You chuckled. Your body still trembling while you put your toy down. “Ah…ahh.” Soft moans departed from Shuri’s lips. You sat up, placing your phone on your shoulder. “I did this to you, baby.” You declared.

You guys were far away from each other, yet so close. You both controlled each other impressively without struggle, despite being hundreds of miles away. “Ndiyakudinga, usana” (I need you, baby) she admitted, while slowly pulling her fingers out of her pussy.

Hearing her so needy for you caused a familiar heartbeat in between your legs. “Put them in your mouth.” You instructed her. She obliged, ignoring her extremely jaded limbs. “I want you to taste it for me.” You added.

Shuri’s mouth extended. Her tongue attacked her fingers faintly. “Mmmm.” She hummed softly. Her satisfaction of tasting her very own substance made you snicker. “That’s right.” You murmured. You flipped over onto your stomach, ending the call to FaceTime her.

“Tell me how good you tasted, beautiful.”

You smiled at her in the frame. Shuri’s lips glistened, moistened with her cum. “It tastes great… but it lacks something.” Your eyes narrowed at her response, wondering what could possibly be stopping it from being perfect. You always thought it tasted fresh… organic.

���What?” You asked, biting your bottom lip. Shuri caught that and couldn’t take her eyes away. She sat up in the camera to get a better view of your face. “Your touch.” She uttered gracefully.

“Oh, we had a ball… You should’ve came, girl!” Riri twirled in the mirror, kicking her heels off. She wasn’t completely drunk this time, she remembered to take her shoes off and she’s not slurring her words. “So, what’d you do this whole time?” She asked while removing all of her jewelry. You pretended as if you didn’t hear her for the fun of it. You continued to flip through the pages of your book. “Yo? What did you do?” She asked you again. You shut the book softy and crossed your arms. “Nothing really.” You cooed. She seemed really interested in your night for some odd reason. “I thought you’d be sleep by the time I got back.” She spoke as she walked into the bathroom. “Shuri never called?” She questioned, her voiced echoing throughout the room.

“Yeah, she just had to take care of a mishap in her lab… She texted me saying she’ll call back in the morning.” You vocalized, while putting your AirPods in. “Oh! Okay.” Was the last thing you heard before Riri jumped into the shower. “Finally!” You thought to yourself. Shuri sent you a voice note about 5 minutes after Riri got home and you’ve been dying to listen to it ever since.

“Sleep tight, usana.” (baby) You read the message she sent to you after the voice note. You smiled tenderly before pressing play. “Ah! Oh shhh…” You heard blaring moans from your lover. It made you grin, thinking about the way she recorded this just for you to hear. Your pussy began pulsating under your blanket.

“Ndiyakufuna.” (I want you) Shuri let out gentle wines in your ears. Your fingers slithered down into your panties, coming into contact with your clit once again. You figured this would help you sleep and so did Shuri. The headphones caught every solitary noise she made and that made your orgasm ram through your insides like a no other. “Oh god… fuck!”

I hope you enjoyed! Please do not repost my work outside of tumblr. ©

[randomgoosegame]

Let me show you

Request - Hi this Is my frist ever request. I love your chapters and your writing is amazing. I wondering if you could write were Bakugou is in love his best friend since childhood but he never told her since she is Izuku cousin. But when she gets asked out multiple times he gets jealous and shows her how much he loves her.

Disclaimers/ Warnings - Friends to lovers, smut, unprotected sex, spanking (happened like once)

Bakugou scuffed to himself as you were stopped again by another student asking for your number. It was lunch and Bakugou usually waited for you before he ate.

He usually was to yell at people to leave you alone but if it wasn't for the fact you were already walking past the person towards him.

"Sorry, I'm eating." You said bluntly with a smile and patted them on the head, directing them to the side gently. Bakugou snorted and continued walking with you in tandem with him.

"How many is that now?" He questioned jokingly drawing a chuckle from you. It's not like he didn't already know, he counts every one of them and remembers their face so he could smash them in later for even approaching you. You shrugged and sat next to your cousin.

"Hi Y/N!" Izuku waved and smiled brightly at you. You hummed softly and smiled at him.

"Hey, guys." You waved at the small group of your friend. Bakugou grumbled and sat on the other side of the table from you.

"How many is what Kacchan?" Midoriya asked Bakugou as you silently enjoyed your cup of noodles.

"Mind your own business shitty nerd." Bakugou barked at Midoriya causing you to defensively kick him in the shin. Bakugou grunted and looked at you with narrowed eyes. You looked up at him through your lashes with an innocent smile. 

"O-okay." Izuku chuckled nervously and started eating his food again. You shook your head a bit and went back to your meal. Bakugou silently started to pick at his food, seemingly in deep thought. You hummed softly and turned your attention back to your food.

∆ Lil Time Skip ∆

As you walked out of your last class for the day you were stopped as someone grabbed your wrist. You smiled thinking it was Bakugou you turned towards him.

"Hi, Y/N right?" Someone, not Bakugou asked. You pulled your wrist out of their grasp.

"Uh yeah that's me can I help you?" You asked with a practiced facade.

"I wanna take you on a date if that's alright with you." They smiled and grabbed your arm again. You shook his hand off your arm.

"Sorry, I'm not looking for a relationship at the time." It wasn't a complete lie, you were looking for a relationship but with Katsuki, not some random guy. 

"Come on, ill make it worth your while." He tried to put his hand on your waist but you smacked it away.

"And I said no so back off." The mask you had on fell away and your eyes narrowed to emphasize your statement.

"Don't be like that." He rolled his eyes and stepped closer to you. You huffed and turned to walk away but he grabbed your wrist once again.

Your fists clenched and you turned ready to push them away or worse. A smile threatened to spill onto your face as you spot a head of blond spiky hair in your peripheral. You blink and almost jump as you forgot about the person holding your wrist.

"You don't gotta run, I'm not that scary baby." You cringed at the way they called you baby, it made you want to throw up.

"Like I would be afraid of you." You snorted and rolled your eyes. "I just have better things I could be doing than talking to you." You said bluntly and yanked your hand from their grasp.

They growled out in irritation and stepped into your face. You backed away from him in surprise and stumbled into an arm across your shoulders. 

"What the hell is taking you so long?" Bakugou growled out to you. Your body relaxes automatically and you back up next to him.

"Nothing, just some friendly chit-chat..." You smiled up at Bakugou hoping that he would just leave the boy alone so you both could leave.

"C'mon I wanna go home before Izuku eats all the snacks." You try pulling on Bakugou's sleeve to make him follow you but the boy couldn't keep his mouth shut.

"Listen, man, I was here first, she was just about to give me her number." He grabbed your upper arm and pulled you away from Bakugou. By this time almost everyone had left to go to their dorms, leaving just the three of you in the hallway.

Bakugou's body stiffened up and his arm dropped from your shoulders. You sighed and wrote a number that was not yours on a piece of paper and tossed it at him.

"Now leave me alone." You grumbled and harshly pulled your arm from them. You walked up to Bakugou and tiredly wrapped your arm around his. "Can we go now?"

Bakugou rolled his eyes and removed his arm from your hold. You rolled your eyes and you both walked back to the dorms quietly. Bakugou looked angrier than usual as you guys enters the dorms.

"Bakugou hey, what's wrong... Did something happen?" You asked at the door before he opened it.

"No." He gruffed out and left you standing there. You sighed and went to your dorm room.

∆ Another Lil Time Skip ∆

A knock on your door breaks the silence of your room and your studying mood. It was late and you didn't think anyone else would be awake except for you. You stretched and open the door for whoever it was.

"Hey..." Bakugou stood there leaning on the door frame.

"Hey, what's up Katsuki?" You crossed your arms over your chest and shifted on your feet.

"I'm- sorry..." He grumbled under his breath and avoided meeting your gaze.

"Sorry, what was that, I couldn't hear you?" A smile grew on your face watching as he grew frustrated with your actions.

"I said I'm sorry!" He practically shouted. You laughed and pulled him into your room.

"I know I'm just messing with you. But I don't know what you're apologizing for." You chuckle and sat back down on your bed near your textbooks. Bakugou followed close behind and sat beside you

"About being a jerk to you today..." He sighed and lay on your bed. You smiled and ran your fingers through his hair. Bakugou sighed a little and closed his eyes.

"What was going on today?" You asked but Bakugou hid his face in your blankets instead. You poked his side, back, and shoulders. Bakugou huffed and smacked your hands away making you giggle.

"You can talk to me you know." You poked him again and rubbed his back. You could feel the tension in his muscles.

Bakugou's head tilted as he looked up at you.

"Why did you give that guy your number?" Bakugou asked quietly.

"I gave that guy Mineta's number." You laughed and wrapped your arms around your stomach. Bakugou snorted and a small smile graced his face.

"Why do you have Mineta's number?" Bakugou's smile faltered for a moment.

"For just that reason. I've been giving away his number for so long that I automatically tell it to anyone who asks." You smiled and lay on the bed beside him.

"Why are you giving it away and not your own?" Bakugou's eyebrows frowned as he looked over at you.

"Why are you asking so many questions?" You shot back with a chuckle. Bakugou sighed and rolled to his back, his shoulder and hand brushing against yours due to the small size of your bed.

"I'm joking, I'm joking." You snickered lightly and after a pause, you continued. "But really, what's with the sudden interest in my dating life?"

"I- I just hate when people bug you like that," Bakugou whispered almost like he was talking to himself. You looked over at him and took in the hard look of concentration on his face.

"Are you jealous Suki?" You smiled and sat up so that you were leaning over him. Bakugou pushed you aside and covered his blush by laying his arm over his face. You chuckled and rolled over onto your stomach.

"What... What if I am?" You gasped silently hearing his whisper. Bakugou lifted his arm and looked over at you trying to read your expression.

"I would ask if you were delusional if you thought I would want anyone else besides you Katsuki Bakugou." You smiled softly at him and watched as his vermilion eyes grew wide. A hint of a smile grew on Bakugou's face as he nuzzled himself into your chest.

You both stayed wrapped up in each other before Bakugou started to pepper kisses along your exposed skin. He sucked lightly on the skin drawing a gasp from you.

Bakugou grinned against your skin and bit down where your neck and shoulder meet. Your breath hitched in your throat and you tangled your hands in Bakugou's ashy gold-colored locks. You gently pulled on his hair, Bakugou grunted in response and trailed his kissing back upwards.

Bakugou's lips latched onto your own in a heated kiss. His hands drifted up and down your sides as you pulled him deeper into the kiss. You moaned softly and tugged on Bakugou's bottom lip with your teeth.

"Been wanting to kiss you like this for a long time, to hold you like this." Bakugou breathed out and looked down at you with hungry eyes. Your stomach did flips as Bakugou's hands slipped under your shirt and slowly tugged it over your head.

Bakugou moaned out and pawed at your braless bust. You moaned as he swipes his tongue around one of your nipples. Bakugou switched between your fleshy mounds, making sure to pay equal attention to them both. Your back arched as Bakugou ground his hips into your own, making you feel how hard he was.

You bit your lip as Bakugou pressed kiss after kiss on your abdomen, trailing down to the hemline of your shorts. His bright eyes flutter up to meet yours through his lashes. You bit your lip looking down at him.

"Can I show you how much you mean to me, baby?" Bakugou kissed you right below your belly button. You smiled and nodded your head not trusting your voice. Bakugou's eyes lit up with hunger and he pulled down your shorts and underwear with haste.

"Oh, you look fucking divine baby." Bakugou groaned and licked his lips with hunger. His hands grasped your thighs and pulled them open further. You moan loudly as Bakugou swiped your slick around and pushed a finger past your folds and into your tight walls.

"Katsuki!" Your back arched as Bakugou placed a harsh suck on your clit. You buried your hands in his hair and carefully scratched Bakugou's scalp. Bakugou moaned and trusted a second finger into you.

Bakugou lapped at your clit while curling his fingers deep in you and hummed sending vibrations through your bundle of nerves. The action pushed you closer to your first climax of the night. Your thighs quaked around Bakugou's head as his fingers speed up their thrusting.

"M'gonna cum Suki!" You moaned loudly practically riding his face now. Bakugou pressed a third finger into you, stretching your walls with a slight burn that had you coming around his fingers.

Bakugou drank up your release while continuing to pull and push his fingers in and out of you at a steady pace, prolonging your climax. You whimpered as Bakugou removed his fingers from you and placed them in his mouth, cleaning them of your cum.

"Taste so good too, can't believe it." Bakugou groaned and licked away the remaining juices on his lips. You groaned at the sight and pulled him into a kiss by his shirt. Bakugou's tongue invaded your mouth and pressed against your own heatedly as you slowly removed his shirt.

You ran your hands up and down Bakugou's sides, using your nails to lightly drag across the skin. Bakugou shivers and he bit down on your lip.

You moaned and pulled him closer after tasting yourself. Bakugou moaned into your mouth as you rolled your hips up into his, and ground yourself on his erection. Bakugous hand flew to your waist and pressed himself harder into you.

"Katsuki I need you please!" You moaned out. Bakugou bit down on your shoulder and ground himself harder against you, pressing directly into your clit.

Bakugou's hands left your hips and he started to remove the rest of his clothes. You let out a soft moan taking in Bakugou's appearance. His hair was disheveled and framed his flushed face and swollen lips that matched the tip of his cock.

Bakugou had his lips back onto yours in a slower kiss that you followed happily. You wrapped your arms around Bakugou's neck and played with the small hairs at the back of his neck. Bakugou's hands ran down your sides and grasped your thighs tightly and he started to ease himself into you.

You let out a small whimper as Bakugou stretched you out. His hands pushed your thighs further apart to give himself more room to nestle into your tight walls. Tears pooled in your eyes and your nails dug into Bakugou's shoulder blades.

"So good baby, you're doing so fucking good," Bakugou grunted out and kissed your shoulder. You kissed the side of his head and ran your fingers down his back, taking in the scent of sweet caramel.

Bakugou shuddered and started to drag himself through your walls so only his tip was in you before he slammed his cock back to the hilt. You both moaned out each other names as Bakugou thrust his cock through you.

"Katsuki more please." You whined in his ear. Bakugou grunted and held your thighs tightly before he started to rapidly thrust in and out of you. Your back arched into his chest, pressing your body into his.

Bakugou moaned into your neck and bit down on the soft skin there. You moaned at the mix of pain and pleasure, and your walls clenched tightly around Bakugou. A small grunt left Bakugou as your walls rippled and pulsed around him with each thrust.

"So great Y/N!" Bakugou moaned out and raised one of your legs so they rested on his shoulder while the other leg wrapped around his waist. You moaned loudly as he slipped deeper inside of you.

"Katsuki ngh-" Bakugou cut off your moans by placing two of his fingers in your mouth and slapped your ass with his hot hand.

"Shhh don't want anyone stopping us do you." Bakugou quizzed with a grin but shoved his fingers deeper into your mouth causing you to gag.

You moaned around his fingers and tightened your walls as Bakugou dragged his cock over an overly sensitive spot within your cunt. Bakugou removed his fingers from your mouth and replaced them with his lips

Bakugou's hips picked up their pace as he bent your legs over your torso so your knees touched your chest. Strangled groans fell from Bakugous lips as he fought off his arriving climax, trying to wait for you.

"Suki 'm so close." You mewled and writhed in the bed below him.

"Me too baby. Cum with me, please. Milk my cock baby." Bakugou grunted as your walls gripped him like a vice during your release. Bakugou came right after you as he fucked you harder into the bed to prolong each other's climaxes.

You both caught your breaths slowly and basked in each other embrace. Bakugou had his head on your chest with his eyes closed and a small smile pulled at his lips. You giggled softly and wrapped your arms around his torso keeping him close.

"Will you stay here tonight Suki?" Your breathless voice broke the quiet and caused Bakugou's head to raise from your chest.

"Aww baby, I'm not done with you yet," Bakugou said in a fake pout while pushing your hair off your sweat-soaked forehead. You chuckled tiredly and patted his shoulder. You got up from the bed and hazardly pulled a random shirt on with your shorts.

"Alright, let me go get a drink first." You smiled and pecked his lips. Bakugou nodded and pulled you onto his lap to deepen the kiss. You giggled and pulled away from him.

"I'll be right back Bakugou." You kissed his nose and left for the kitchen.

[fluffypotatey]

Jake’s Cousin Tyler

finally gave into the tgm x twisters (2024) brain(rot)worms so here’s part 1 of this silly crossover

-

Jake’s got an annoying cousin from Arkansas. Very annoying. And it has nothing to do with his silly youtube channel or his ragtag band of friends— those two joined the fray a lot later. No, his beef with his cousin began when the two boys were barely ten and only beginning to grasp their role in this reality. Most family members (Jake’s siblings) call this feud baseless at best and snicker whenever anyone asks how it all began. (Traitors, all of them.)

“So, what really makes you greater than Oklahoma?” 

That, there, was the fateful question. One asked by Jake's baby cousin, Tyler Owens. He, his mother, and aunt drove over all the way from Conway to Amarillo, so one can assume little Tyler saw a lot of the infamous state, as well as his mother sharing the notorious rivalry between Texas and Oklahoma (with Aunt Jo’s commentary). And, well, for anyone hearing about said rivalry from an outsider’s perspective like Tyler’s, it sure does look silly and ridiculous. They just happened to be two neighbor states with similar cultures and history. What was there to dislike about each other? Why all the pride?

And unfortunately, little Tyler decided to ask Jake these questions. 

And, maybe, take some joy in pissing his (slightly) older cousin off.

“I really don’t see the difference here.”

“And how could you! Everything you see is sur-surface level shit!”

There was a hissed Language! that went unheard between all the huffing and giggling. The only adult present was Jake’s brother Collin, who was finding all of this too hilarious to stop. (It was one of the biggest betrayals Jake had ever felt, and one he sulked about for weeks. After the thirty-something apology Jake caved and “allowed” Collin to read him those silly botany books.)

“Be-besides!” Jake stomped (not cutely, thank you). “Everything here is a lot bigger than it is in Oklahoma! Not to mention some of their land used to be ours and—”

“I thought Alaska was the biggest state.”

“I WASN’T TALKING ABOUT ALASKA!”

Suffice to say, this was the moment a line between the Seresins and Owens was drawn. Specifically between Jake and Tyler. Only. It was like in the blink of an eye the two little cousins became rivals. Enemies. Nemesis. 

Tyler was in the elementary choir? Well, Jake was in the state honor choir both his 4th and 5th grade years. Jake is said to be into paints? Oh lookie here! Tyler’s humble little pastel portrait won 1st prize and was showcased in the state fair! Tyler got all A’s in his science classes? Well, Jake got all A’s too, and all his science projects received top marks— oh wait, it seems Tyler won his school science fair. Twice! 

“I hate him.”

“Sweetheart, hate is a strong word.”

“Well, I feel strongly that I hate him, Mama! Why’s he gotta one-up me like that. He’s in a whole other state and yet—”

“Are you not doing the same thing?”

“No!” Jake lied. It wouldn’t do him any good to admit such a petty thing to his mother. “I’m minding my own business over here”—

“Uh huh.”

—“and it’s like a week after you share something with Aunt Trix and Jo, Tyler suddenly has something grander to share.”

“Oh?” The smile on her face made Jake feel caught. “You find them grander?”

“No! He just tells it like that because he’s Tyler and ‘oh so special’ because he won that stupid fucking science fair with that tornado.”

“Language. And we saw that project at Christmas. You even admitted to it being cool-looking.”

Jake grumbled and scuffed his feet. “It was Christmas.”

His mother scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“Hm, yes, my mistake.”

link to the rest :3

[hermitscratch]

TANGDUBS + 2!! PRETTY PLEASE

Send me a pairing + a number! || Accepting

2. An accidental kiss, Tango/Bdubs, 866 words

"Sooo," Tango drawled awkwardly, scuffing his boot against the packed dirt, "We're in agreement that you're totally bonkers, right?"

Bdubs looked up from where he was wrapping his knuckles, the methodic twist of bandages familiar to the point of being soothing, "There's nothin' bonkers about it! We're just- we're settling some differences, that's all, we're getting even," He replied, squinting at the ground below where Tango stood, "Hey, hey, stop kicking up the ring! Do you know how long it took me to build us this arena?"

Tango eyed their "arena". It wasn't much, a circle of cleared space that must have measured half a chunk across its widest point, flattened and padded with a layer of sand and gravel. The perimeter was trimmed in snow blocks- a clever callback to what landed them there that made Tango's tail lash in brief distaste- and beyond the circle, artfully arranged stairs and scaffolding served as seating for their nonexistent audience. It was simple, but it was enough to give this... whatever this was supposed to be... an official feel. "I dunno," Tango offered flippantly, "Like, twenty minutes?"

"Twenty min- ohh," Bdubs fumed, and Tango grinned as Bdubs continued, largely to himself, "Ohhh, I'll get you just for that one. Twenty minutes, hah, the pair on this guy..."

Tango snickered, raising his hands placatingly in front of him, "Hey, I'm just saying! Only one as masterful as you could pull off a build this nice that fast, you know?"

"Uh huh, that's what I thought you meant," The retort was sharp, but Bdubs' lips quirked with amusement, "You ready yet?"

"Erm. Not gonna lie, I'm still not sure what you're trying to accomplish here," Tango admitted. Idly, he tamps down the patch of dirt he'd dug up, smoothing the sand and gravel back over the dent, "Last Life is over. What happened, happened," Tango fought to keep the bitter taste out of his mouth, "What's this gonna do?"

"Plenty!" Was Bdubs' immediate answer, lifting his nose like he was proud of whatever logic he was employing to justify challenging Tango. Not even to full-on PVP, either, to a sparring match.

"Oh yeah," Tango said emphatically, "We come out here, sample some punch sauce with our faces, and suddenly it's like you didn't brutally murder me after I brought you back from red badness!"

"You're flaring, sweetheart," Bdubs pointed out, and Tango grumbled as he ran a hand through his hair, reducing the sparks to embers. Maybe it wasn't the best idea for Bdubs to construct the bleachers out of wood. "But that's just it, though! It's closure!" "Closure," Tango repeated skeptically.

"Closure," Bdubs affirmed, "This way if I win, I'll have earned the life I took! And if you win, you get the satisfaction of revenge! I know you're mad, but this has gotta help us get back on good terms, right?"

Bdubs' wide eyes were earnest, pleading, and Tango has never been good at denying him his whims. Especially not when there's such a blatant I miss you, I miss us between the lines.

Tango pursed his lips, looked around their little arena, and sighed. "Fine, let's do this."

The rules were set. They took opposite ends of the circle. And then, they were at each other's throats, Tango's agility matched at every turn by Bdubs' stamina, Tango's resourcefulness met head-on by Bdubs' resilience. For all they were out of practice in hand-to-hand, there was an elegance to it that came less from the execution of moves, more from the ebb and flow of knowing an opponent intimately, a dance that kept them on their toes for nearly an hour.

And Tango knew. He knew Bdubs, had known him for years. Worked with him, based with him, teamed with him. Cared about him, here and in the game, and Bdubs had backstabbed him.

The rush of feelings were ugly. Love and hate and protectiveness and betrayal and hurt, hurt, hurt, fueling every punch and kick and hiss, every connection making him feel a little bit lighter, until-

"Tango!"

Tango froze, looking down. Bdubs was on the ground, on his back, immobilized in every way that mattered by Tango's weight. That was the victory condition they'd agreed on; no deathmatch, only a chance to make the other vulnerable.

Bdubs lifted the only hand he had free, and Tango dully realized that there was something to wipe away when Bdubs started scrubbing gently at the corners of Tango's eyes. "You won," Bdubs said softly, smiling through a split lip.

There was still anger. There was pain, but there was elation, an overwhelming catharsis, a feeling too kind for the outlet it had come from, and when Tango leaned down to kiss Bdubs, there was relief.

It was brief. As soon as Tango realized he'd done it, he pulled away, clearing his throat bashfully, "I, uh- that's embarrassing. Sorr-"

"If you apologize instead of getting back down here right now, I'm punching you again," Bdubs said, hooking his hand around the back of Tango's neck, threading the short hairs around his fingers.

Tango has never been good at denying Bdubs his whims... especially not now, when he sounded so fond.

[phantom-of-the-501st]

And we're back!

Initial thoughts on TBB S3 Eps 1-3

SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT

3x1 Confined

Final season premiere let's go!!!

Storms are never a good sign

There's creepy shit on Tantiss (crocodile thing from the trailer maybe?)

Although Hemlock counts as creepy enough

He's the creepiest thing on the whole planet 😬

Tbf there's a stunning view, it's just a shame about the prison window blocking it

CROSS IS BACK!!!

Omega blood sample? That's gotta come back later in the season!

Are these blood samples labelled? How tf does anyone know which is which??? That's just bad lab practice 🙄

Oh the weird machine knows. Nvm

"Replicate the genetic M count" and they want Omega's blood???

Nala Se is protecting Megs. Slenderbitch may actually be of some use

Force senstive Megs?

This feels like this is linking with the cloning plot in The Mandalorian

The animal welfare standards here are abysmal 😠

BATCHER?! Oh that's adorable 😍

And I thought Omegas's room was bad holy shit 😭

The grid across Cross' room is casting a crosshair on Omega's face. I love little details like that

21 tallies on wall = 21 rotations? That doesn't seem like very long

STRAW LULA?! 😭❤️

Why are there blood drips going into each sample? This seems like a contamination issue

At least 150 tallies now 😭

Subject will be terminated if they don't heal. Feels very much like the clones when they were on Kamino, which just shows how much the clones were treated like animals

"I belong here" *sobs*

Cross don't make me cry istg. I can't do this at 8am on a Wednesday 😭

Okay but the droid kind of had a point about Batcher struggling in the wild because of Omega domesticating her. One thing you learn about working in a zoo environment is that hand-reared animals have no idea how to behave like their wild counterparts and basically turn into little psychos (like you can't actually be in the same room as some of them levels of bad). That or they rely on people too much and have no idea how to fend for themselves. Either way, the droid wasn't entirely wrong

Hemlock is a bastard 😒

Omega's theme!!!

Season premiere and only two Batcher (neither of whom are Hunt or Wreck). Interesting!

1x2 Paths Unknown

Fucking Roland Durand?!

Did not expect that in episode 2 omg!

Hunter and Wrecker being mercenaries for the Durands?

Ah okay it seems to be a one off

THE GOGGLES IN THE SHIP! 😭😭😭😭

Hunt and Wreck be looking a bit scuffed

Echo and Rex mention!

They won't be available for 2 rotations? Well we're not seeing them this episode then...

Hunter's emotions are making him impulsive and that's not really a good thing

Wrecker is actually the one holding back, which is an interesting dynamic. Wrecker can see how bad Hunter is coping and is probably having to keep him in line as much as he can so that they don't lose another brother

CLONE CADETS! CLONE CADETS!

These ones actually have New Zealand accents as well

The slither vines were genetically made and got out of hand? This is what we mean by invasive species, people. Very much not good

Okay so we have one called Box and one called Stak

Are the cadets not affected by the chips? Do they only active in fully trained soldiers?

We need to get these kids to Echo and Rex

GONKY BACKPACK!!! 😆

Poor Gonky is stuck upside down.

These vines are making vocalisations somehow and it's confusing me. Plant voice boxes?

OKAY WTF ARE THOSE THINGS???

They look like weird green versions of the slogs from Abe's Oddysee

Why are you breaking into the Marauder???

You better not be stealing it. That's already happened and we can't do it again

Okay clone cadet 3 is Deke

Ayyyy rescue time!

Okay, I'll let them off for getting on the ship

Because we totally needed a swampy sarlacc thing rn 😭

PABU!!!

*Remembers invasion of Pabu in trailer* FUCK

1x3 Shadows of Tantiss

I'm going to throw hands if Echo isn't in this episode 😤

Ooh mystery clone(?) who everyone thinks is Tech!

Nala Se is helping again 👀

The special guest is probs Palpatine

Le Palps is back

Project Necromancer - bringing back the dead?

So is this to do with the cloning stuff or something to do with Tech?

Probs the cloning thing tbf

*Angry mouse droid squeaks*

FUCK YEAH CROSS!

Missed watching this guy fight

Cross and Omega team up let's go!!!

Cross doesn't question why Omega only mentioned Wrecker and Hunter. Has Omega told him about Tech or did he just not question why she only brought two up?

And in that case has she told him that Echo is with Rex?

I HAVE QUESTIONS!

Cross went for the stun not the kill. Very different from 2x3

Do you think Hemlock has a scar or does he just choose to shave a slit in his eyebrow? 🤨

Oh great a big green monkey cat. Just what we need!

"Of course he did". CROSSHAIR BEING SOFT ABOUT TECH HELP

Cross is missing shots because of his shaky hands :(

OMEGA M COUNT???

Oooooooh they're adding blood with midichlorians in to the samples to see if they would take. That explains the blood being added to the samples

Overall I love these episodes! It's nice going back and forth between Cross and Omega, and Hunter and Wrecker. We're going to get some interesting dynamics

This is a very sad day for Echo stans though. I feel like we're going to be suffering a lot this season 🥲

And here's the bingo card as of rn!