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#ty for spreading awareness about this!
sandeoki · 2 years
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As much as I agree about the you being really nice and amazing part in this ask I don't agree with how the anon is talking about other authors. For one, many of them have lives and you can't put down people to raise up others. Two, they get too many interactions and thud are only able to interact via asks.
AND MOST IMPORTANTLY, many of the authors I know on atinyblr keep BEGGING for interactions but no one BOTHERS? Liking or blank reblogging DOES NOT equal to interaction. TELL US WHAT YOU LIKED, TELL US WHAT YOU HATED, FFS INTERACT! I don't see people interacting with so many amazing authors and then the people who do are called people pleasers (the same goes for a lot of authors too... Like????) What's with the double standard????
hi anon!
i totally agree with you on the authors not being able to interact back part due to getting too many interactions. its completely okay and understandable.
and yes i know how important getting feedback from our readers is for an author.
i totally agree with all your points anon, authors of tumblr are really suffering due to all this.
im sure the previous anon didnt mean to offend anyone and were probably speaking from personal experience.
i know there are so many talented and under appriciated authors here who are not getting the attention they deserve.
people really need to understand that authors or anyone who put effort into doing something, deserves praise for it.
the likes and reblogs we get are awesome but we want you all to tell us how you like it!!!
WE SPENT HOURS WORKING ON STORIES FOR YOU ALL! GIVE US SOME LOVE TOO!
as someone who gets really anxious and shy, i understand how you may feel hesitant to reveal your identity by commenting or sending asks.
thats why the anon feature is there! use it, we dont care if we know who you are or not, we just want to know if you found our work worthy!
thank you so much anon for raising awareness about this! i hope one day everyone sees it the same as you!
visit again soon!
p.s. no hate to the previous anon, ily bub, im sure you didnt mean it that way.
🍒Cherry out<3
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martianbugsbunny · 11 months
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Who is franck? I tried googling him but know nothing
omg I should've clarified in the tags, Franck is this absolute icon of a man:
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I love him so much he's hilarious he's stylish he's so slay, and the movie he's from is Father of the Bride (1991) (and also the sequel) and he's jumping up and down in a little corner of my brain pretty much 24/7
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cursingtoji · 1 year
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listening to ghost and soap infamous “are you ugly?” conversation and not being able to stop thinking about what ghost meant by “quite the opposite”
you’re used to having him wearing his mask even whenever you two escape to blow off some steam, but since that day you’ve been building up some courage to ask the same thing soap tried to.
“take it off” you murmur with your lips inches away from his mask while setting a pace riding him.
Ghost, who was spread out on the couch raised his head, “y’r gettin’ spoiled, brat. last week was a kiss now you want my whole face?” he gives your ass a mean slap.
“’s not fair” you pout, whilst you are completely naked every time, simon only removes his shirt when you beg, maybe lowers his pants down to his ankles instead of just enough to let out his cock, but that’s it.
“Aight, want me to lose the mask?” he takes your black shirt, folding it sloppily until it’s narrow then he puts around your eyes tying on the back of your head.
“simon! no!” you raise your hands to undo it, he’s faster though, taking both your wrists and holding in the air. you hear some fumbling and suddenly your palms are being tickled by a stubble, you gasp realizing under your hands is ghost’s uncovered face.
“keep ridin’” he demands, adjusting his body to lay lower and thrusting you from bellow as a reminder he’s still inside.
you bite your lips, needing to put a hand on his chest as support, your other hand explores his face trying to paint a mental image of him.
his jawline is sharp, a few uneven parts along his skin, probably scars, there’s more hair on his chin than the rest of his jaw and to imagine simon with a blond goatee make you clench.
“shit” he curses tightening the grip on your hips, “what’re you so excited ‘bout, private? huh?” he pinches your nipple. you run your fingertips on his bottom lip, it’s thin and he could use some lip balm, but the excitement about touching him in such a intimate way gives you hope to one day convince him to let you apply lip balm on his lips, “behave” he growls.
“‘m behaving, sir” you smile sheepishly forgetting he can actually see your face. ghost takes your hand, making you close it and leaving just your index up. under the improvised blindfold you frown, next his lips are wrapping around your finger and his tongue is under your digit.
your clit throbs, not expecting this from your lieutenant.
“fuck, Lt.” you arch your back, approaching your orgasm.
“faster” both his hands are gripping your ass, he groans and you feel the vibration on your finger. you obey as one does, slapping your ass on his mighty thighs, as he sucks your finger, even letting some saliva run down your palm.
“si-mon ‘m close” you lose yourself on the sensation, seeing nothing makes you more aware of the stretch his cock gives you, not to mention the sounds your lieutenant is trying to hold. with one last suck he removes your finger, moving it to your own clit, where he presses it on your bud.
“cum then” you’re so close, but that’s one thing you still want.
“can i kiss you?” you edge yourself waiting for his answer, he sighs and you take it as a negative response, but his other hand leaves your ass as he guides your face to his where his lips awaited yours, he immediately pushes his tongue in, that’s merely your second kiss and you’re already coming.
“louder, i think the terrorists haven’t heard ya” he teases when you moan a high pitched note.
“fuck you, sir” you’re still riding him intensely, knowing he’s close too. he bites your lip, forcing your hips up and down faster and groaning as he fills your insides.
by the time you remove the blindfold, his mask is back on and you sigh in defeat, moving away from his lap and getting one last spank.
“goatee” you whisper in soap’s ear as he is about to eat his morning scrambled eggs.
“wut?” he turns to you.
“he has a goatee” you wink and leave to get your own breakfast. poor johnny is still processing what was said when ghost enters the room, later than usual.
soap drops his fork.
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tteokdoroki · 7 months
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⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡. — SATORU GOJO. a woman in uniform.
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about. satoru let’s you try his uniform on in the bedroom and loses his fucking mind. not even the strongest sorcerer can resist a woman in uniform.
warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, smut, power play, pussy jobs, oral sex ( m!receiving ), clothed sex, blind folds, some slight sub/dom dynamics, fem!reader. i wrote this with my clit tbh.
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i think that gojo goes feral for you wearing his uniform. the whole get up, the blind fold and the jujutsu tech jacket. he’ll try to fight it, the feeling of power slipping away, as you crawl up the bed and between his thighs — your tongue dragging over your lips.
“oh, you shakin’ satoru?” he can see the excitement dancing around in your eyes even through the fabric covering them. he can sense the flare in your energy as you loom over him, ranking your nails down creamy washboard abs while his infinity fizzles away. “poor you. it’s not fun to be on the receiving end, is it?”
if satoru really wanted to, he would flip the situation in an instant — have you pinned to the bed with your clothes askew and your mouth hanging open in breathy whines as you beg for him to touch you. but he doesn’t. he can’t. you have so much power over him when you’re dressed like that and you act like you’re the strongest one in the room. you both know that he has the power to end your free rein over his body.
he is the strongest after all.
your mouth is quick to follow your nails, teeth and tongue trailing a wet path from gojo’s prominent collar bones, between his firm pecs and down his tense stomach. you suck hickies into the bone of his slender hips, shades of mauve and navy-ish blue blooming against pale skin like adding water colours to a blank canvas. satoru inhales sharply, losing control of his invisible barrier just so he can savour the feeling of you ravishing his body with nips and sucks and kisses.
you haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.
“lift your hips, satoru, let me see what you’ve got under all this,” you coo sweetly and it’s as if you’re drizzling honey in his ears. the white haired man follows your command like it’s the law, instinctively bucking up and away from the bed so you can pull down his boxers. “how sweet, you’re so hard.” satoru’s cock springs free from its restraints, sticky and bright red at the tip, pulsing and thick at the shaft. when you touch him and take hold of his length in your tiny hand, kitten licking the entirety of him while you look up at him hungrily through your blindfold… the man is sure he might die. you could kill him like this, with his infinity down…and you’re fully aware of it.
teasingly, you ease his cockhead past the seam of your kiss swollen lips and let it nudge the soft epithelium on the inside of your cheek — lubing him up, getting him ready for more of your torture. “should i suck you off? or should i ride you?” you manage, even though your mouth is full of dick…the next, your nose is buried in a trail of soft white pubic hair.
“don’t do that… please…” satoru whines, chest flushed and heaving, brilliant blue eyes boring deep into your soul. his fists form balls at the sides of his shaky legs, he could reach out and touch you — coax you into giving him more. it’s not like he has any restraints on…except for the metaphorical ones of your will and your control. you let go of him with a lewd pop, a trail of your saliva mixed with milky precum tying you to his sensitive erection. “f-fuck…”
cocking your head to the side, you use a soiled thumb and forefinger to lift the black hand over one of your dangerously pretty and mirth-filled eyes. “do what?” you respond with an inquisitive purr, licking your lips and moaning at the taste of the six eyes on them.
“s-shit,” satoru curses, blood curdling and boiling hot lust spreading through all four of his limbs at the sight. “don’t act like you don’t know what you’re doing to me…don’t act like you don’t know how feral i am for you…” saliva pools on the pallets of his tongue, slipping in between the sorcerer’s words as you move like a vixen in the woods above him — sliding yourself into gojo’s lap to position yourself perfectly above his aching cock. “don’t—“
gojo chokes on a moan as you begin circling your hips, plush and puffy pussy lips sucking in the length of his cock whilst it lays flat against his tummy. if he focuses his mind enough, pushes through the dark veil of lust you’ve pulled over his mind that works in overdrive, he can just about see his bulbous, leaky tip peeking out from underneath the folds of his dark uniform — the uniform that’s draped so perfectly over the curve of your mouth-watering body. a deep groan anchors itself in gojo’s chest like the roots of a sturdy oak tree and his hands leap up from the bedsheets to grip your peachy ass barely hidden by his clothes.
“don’t this, don’t that,” you hum condescendingly, as you alternate the movement of your hips — dragging them back and forth, back and forth over your lover’s pathetically wet dick. you make sure to clench your slick hole every time it meets his tip, glazing him in a small stream of your arousal. “don’t you know how to shut up ‘n take it, satoru?”
the dominance in your voice has the white haired man in shambles, twitching beneath the weight of your body on his. for christs sake, he’s the strongest, he brings curses and sorcerer alike to their knees just by mention of his name. so why is he so weakened by the sight of you above him? by the sight of you in his clothes, grinding sloppily on his wet cock? gojo doesn’t want infinity projecting him, not when he occasionally slips inside of your welcoming, tight cunt when you thrust yourself down on him.
“g-god…baby, please!” he hiccups, fighting the urge to force you down onto him fully — bully his way into your squishy insides. satoru could do anything he wanted to you, in a single moment he could have you sniffling against the sheets and crying as much as your cunt does…but the way you rein him in just by wearing his clothes stops him.
“what’s the matter, handsome? you cryin’?”
at your teasing, the cream that oozes from his sensitive tip paints your clit adds to your gathering arousal as it soaks through satoru’s uniform. nastily, he doesn’t think he’ll wash it, he wants the memories of tonight to stay with him forever. he wants to remember how you took over him and took his every capability in using his power — reducing the satoru gojo to a pussy drunk fool.
the scent of your sex is the only way he can think to immortalise this moment.
“i can… i can take it. give it t’me, want everythin’ you’ve got,” satoru simpers eagerly over the lewd, sticky pap, pap, pap of your sexes meeting in a salacious bump and grind. he has no idea where to look — intimidated by the control that oozes off of you, the control that he gives you. if he stares at your bouncing breasts beneath his jujutsu tech jacket or your clenching cunt for too long, he might just bust all over you and his inform before he even has the chance to be inside of you.
light laughter escapes you at gojo’s babyish bleats and whimpers — so you lift the blindfold once more, lips spreading into a slow and sexy smirk, much like the kind he would tease you with. “i don’t think you can handle my everything, baby.”
and you’d be right. not even the strongest sorcerer in japan could handle his woman in his uniform.
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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rileyslibrary · 6 months
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Okay okay but hear me out- reader gets assigned on their first solo mission by Price and Ghost is inwardly concerned for them and keeps subtly giving tips to reader about the basics of any mission as way to prepare them
Hi, anon and thank you for requesting this! I made some minor adjustments to the original idea since I got lost in the process once I began writing. Reader is also fully aware of Ghost’s concerns and messes with him.
Fluffy, the usual banter, an emotionally constipated Ghost, yada yada. Enjoy!
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“Again,” Ghost murmurs as he shuffles through the row of tactical knives on the table. He decides on one, picks it up and walks towards you. “What is this?” He asks.
You look up from tying the laces of your boots and redirect your attention at him. He either believes you’re an idiot or doesn’t trust you enough. Either way, it’s not a good sign.
“Good question, Lieutenant,” you reply. “What you’re holding in your hands is a knife. Knives were one of the earliest tools used by humanity to-”
“Cut it out.”
“That’s correct!” you exclaim. “You mainly use one of those to cut stuff.”
A long sigh escapes him, and he throws his head up. He lowers the knife and walks towards the table, scratching the back of his balaclava with the other hand. He takes a few breaths, turns around and lifts the knife again.
“That’s not what I’m asking, and you know it.” He growls. “What kind of knife is it?”
“A sharp one.”
“Stop it.”
“You mean stab it?” you ask and continue tying your laces. “Yes. Yes, you can definitely stab with it.”
He throws the knife onto the table and leans on a chair, holding it with both hands. His brows are tied together, and you can see his jaw tightening beneath the balaclava.
“I need you to focus.” He says firmly. “This is not the right time for jokes.”
You stand up and walk towards him, now standing by his side. You grab his shoulder and squeeze it. He doesn’t budge, yet he slowly shakes his head.
“You’re worried.” You state.
“I’m not worried.” He replies. “I don’t know what Price was thinking; the stakes are too high for this to be your first solo mission.”
“So you don’t trust me.”
“Of course I trust you.” He says and lets go of the chair. “It’s just too dangerous for you to go alone.”
“So you are worried.” You whisper with a smirk.
He looks at you with the side of his eye and picks up a map from the table. He spreads it out in front of him.
“Alright,” he says, “let’s go over the route again.”
“Got it,” you nod. “So, what’s the plan?”
“What do you mean, ‘what’s the plan?’” He shouts, turning to look at you with wide eyes. “We’ve been through this-”
“-a hundred times now.” You interrupt. “Yet you still want to go over it again and again and again and again.”
“I just need you to be ready.”
“I am ready!”
“Then go on,” he says, pushing the map towards you, “what’s the plan?”
“Alright,” you begin, pointing to a door on the eastern side of the facility. “I’ll start here, at the service entrance. It’s not heavily guarded since they mainly use it for their occasional smoke breaks.”
“But you’ll still need to be cautious,” He adds.
You ignore his remark and continue to outline the route.
“From there,” you say, moving your finger along a series of corridors, “I’ll make my way through the maintenance tunnels. They’re narrow and dark but should provide good cover from security patrols.”
“And when you reach the central hub,” Ghost continues, pointing to a large room at the heart of the facility, “you’ll need to be especially careful since that’s where the security is the tightest. There’s only one entry point, so once you get to this door you should-”
“Knock.”
He slowly turns towards you and gives you a side-eye. “You’re not taking this seriously,” he whispers.
“On the contrary, Lieutenant,” you jest. “I’m deadly serious.”
“Deadly serious?” he scoffs and shakes his head. “You might end up seriously dead if you don’t pay attention.”
You roll your eyes and let out a sigh.
“When I get close to that door,” you say, pointing at the map, “I’ll wait for Soap and Gaz to manipulate the security systems and set off the alarms. Once the commotion is at its highest, I’ll infiltrate the hub, collect the intel, and escape through the ventilation shafts.”
“Right,” he says and folds the map. “Do you have everything you need?”
You turn your attention to yourself, checking your tactical vest, and he does the same. His eyes scan over every piece of equipment on you. He walks around you, tracing his fingers along the edges of your gear, checking for any signs of damage. He reaches out to adjust a loose strap on your vest, ensuring it’s securely fastened.
“You need to make sure everything is secure,” he says as he continues to search each pocket and pouch on you, ensuring that your supplies are well-stocked and easily accessible. “We can’t risk losing any essential gear during the mission.”
You follow him with your eyes and smirk as he inspects you. “Is that what worries you?” You ask. “Losing gear?”
He pauses for a second and meets your eyes. “You know what I mean,” he says as he tightens a buckle on your waist. He takes a few steps back and nods. “Everything looks good,” he concludes.
“Alright,” you nod back and walk towards the door. “Let’s do this.”
“Stay sharp out there!” he shouts.
“Yeah, yeah,” You shout back as you exit the briefing room, “sharp like a knife!”
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mokulule · 4 months
Text
Meet Cult
Dead on MAYn - Day 2
Prompt: Jason and Danny abducted by the same cult. No warnings apply.
This was a bad day, was Jason’s first thought as he became aware.
“Oh you’re awake, how are you feeling? That’s a nasty gash on your head,” a voice told him worried.
Jason slowly blinked his eyes into focus. He had the worst headache and when he grimaced he felt something stiff and crusty pull at his skin - dried blood. His arms were tied to a metal pole of sorts behind him which is what had kept him in a kneeling position while unconscious.
A young man slowly came into focus in the dim light. He had dark hair and light eyes, but actual color wasn’t possible to really tell. He was wearing just a simple light t-shirt and shorts, sitting similarly tied to Jason. If he’d been there for any length of time he had to be chilled from the concrete. Jason at least wore sturdy pants which added a bit of insulation.
What had happened?
Jason had been… shopping? Yeah that sounded about right. And then- nothing.
“Hey, please tell me they didn’t knock you entirely senseless?”
Jason focused back on the other… hostage? “What do you know?”
There was a flash of white as he grinned. “I know they came back with you sporting bloodied noses and mr stick up his ass probably have a broken wrist.”
“Who are they?” Jason spoke lowly, looking around, but the room they were in was a basement room only way in was a heavy metal door. Only the barest of light shone through the cracks of an otherwise barred window. There was no one but the two of them.
“Some weirdo cultists.”
Jason must have shown his surprise on his face, because he continued.
“Didn’t expect that, huh?”
“I thought it was just a normal kidnapping.”
“You get kidnapped enough for there to be normal kidnappings?” The man asked eyebrows raising up past his messy bangs.
“Not as such, but my adoptive father is something of a big deal in Gotham so there’s a risk.”
The other thought that over for a moment with a worried frown, before speaking, “I’m sorry you got caught up in this weirdness.”
“And what about you?” Jason asked.
“Me?” He tilted his head.
“You seem remarkably calm about this?”
That earned Jason a chuckle.
“Yeah well you could say it’s not my first rodeo either. I get involved in a shocking amount of weirdness for someone who’s just trying to get a degree.”
He had the sort of smile that invited Jason to share in the joke. Jason gave him a smirk of his own.
“Actually with a degree in Gotham chances are high of becoming a supervillain.”His smile fell as he stared at Jason in shock.
“You’re shitting me.”
Jason shook his head and leaned back against his metal pole, unfolding his legs to get a modicum of comfort.
“Shockingly high amount of PhD’s amongst the rogues,” Jason explained.
That startled a laugh out of the man. He had a nice laugh. “Should have picked another city then I guess.”
“And miss meeting me in some cult’s basement?” The words escaped Jason before he’d even had a chance to consider them, it was just too tempting to banter with this man. Only the sudden silence made him realize he was flirting.
The man tilted his head slightly and gave Jason a thoughtful look. Jason found himself tensing, holding his breath, but then a smile spread slowly over the man’s lips, and Jason could breathe again.
“You know what, you’re right. I’m Danny.”
“Jason.”
“Nice to meet you, Jason.” It was said so honestly, with no hint of joking, words soft like a caress, that Jason’s breath hitched. He scrambled to get his thoughts in order. He didn’t know how to respond.
Thankfully Danny, didn’t seem to need a response.
“Urgh, you know what? Let’s get out of here. I usually stick around to see what nonsense they’re trying to do, but I’m not feeling charitable today.” With that Danny pulled his hands in front of him and pushed himself to his feet - as if nobody had bothered tying him up at all.
The action thankfully pushed Jason back into an analytical mindset. He either had training or- “Powers?”
“A few.” Danny winked at him and to his embarrassment he felt his cheeks heating - so much for the analytical mindset. Danny moved over to start to untie Jason. His hands were cold and Jason’s earlier assumption that he was chilled from the floor seemed proved. He needed to keep his mind on track and not think of the way cool fingers brushed against the insides of his wrists. Without using his powers, as he’d clearly done to get himself free, Danny was not fast.
“You shouldn’t show them off, Gotham has a real problem with traffickers.”
“Not to mention death-cults, which somehow nobody warns you about.” Danny shot right back with a put-upon sigh.
“I’m serious.”
“So am I,” Danny ducked back in front of Jason, “if I had known the amount of supernatural shit going on- well,” Danny shrugged, “I would have probably still taken that scholarship, because beggars can’t be choosers, but I would have had warning.”
Danny went back to untying with a cursed, “idiots really mad at you fighting them, what’s up with all these fucking knots! This might feel weird.”
There was a strange liquid sensation in his wrists and forearms and then he was free. He brought his arms back to his front to inspect the damage. His fingers tingled and throbbed as he flexed them, and he had a bad case of rope burn running from wrists up his forearms. They really hadn’t liked him fighting them indeed. He’d been no where near loosing his hands or fingers, but it had been a risk if he’d been tied up too long.
Not that he’d have let it get that far, he’d have slipped out way beforehand.
Cool hands laid themselves on top of his wrists and gripped him gently. A soothing sort of cool energy seemed to seep into his skin chasing away the pain and numbness and Jason was forced to reevaluate his “chilled” theory. The cold might have to do with his powers.
Jason looked up and Danny’s face was very close. The tips of their noses were inches apart. Danny’s eyes were very blue, the light had to hit them just right right now, it was almost like the glowed.
“You really shouldn’t use your powers so obviously,” he cautioned absently, as his eyes traced the thin barely visible white scars on the left side of Danny’s face; they grew over his skin, organic like vines on a trellis - or like lightning. As if the thought had summoned it, he could suddenly smell ozone, wild, like power rippling under the surface barely held back.
“Are you going to traffic me, Jason?”
For a moment the words didn’t register. He was too busy watching Danny’s lips move. Too caught up in that power he felt. What had Danny said? This wasn’t the first time a cult went for him? A death cult? He didn’t want to stick around to be charitable today? He’d never really been a captive.
What was he?
Danny let go of him as if burned and stepped back. The sense of power disappeared just as suddenly, leaving Jason reeling with the sudden emptiness. He felt as if he’d been dropped into a desert with emptiness stretching for miles in every direction.
“I’m sorry,” Danny said, “I didn’t mean to scare you. Most people don’t-“ He cut himself off.
Jason swallowed, realizing he had been scared, and pushed himself to his feet. He felt wobbly and disoriented, disconnected.
“Most people what?” He demanded, when he finally felt stable on his feet.
Danny looked at him with a worried frown. “Most people don’t feel my power at all. You’re either magic…”
There was an “or” clearly missing. Jason didn’t know why, but he knew he had to know. “Or?”
“This is really not the best place for this,” Danny hedged looking around them with a grimace.
Jason stepped forward and grabbed his arms. The power was back, though more muted than before, like it was hiding behind layers of fabric.
“Or?” He demanded.
Danny looked up at him a strange expression on his face. “Or, you have more than a passing familiarity with death.”
It felt like the ground dropped out from under Jason’s feet, that first rush of air of a fall. Yet, somehow he was still standing. Danny’s hands gripping his arms hard in return was the reason. He gave Jason a small shake and when Jason sorta focused on him, he said, “This is not an empty stomach sort of conversation. Least I know why they grabbed you too. Come on.”
And with those words suddenly they were flying up through the ceiling and the next ceiling and the next, it became a blur until suddenly they were outside in fresh air high above the city. Jason moved his legs in a startled motion, but nothing happened. He was weightless, Danny’s hold on him was light. That cool energy was flowing through him again, but this time it was his whole body.
The view of Gotham stretched out below them, behind them was the harbor, they’d been in one of the many more or less abandoned buildings that dotted the area between harbor and city proper. Too many gun fights broke out in the area over shipments of various illegal items for any legal businesses to want to rent those buildings for any substantial amount of time, which explained how a (death?) cult had set up shop.
Jason was very carefully ignoring the fact that he was flying. It wasn’t the first time he’d flown with someone - those other times however he’d still been able to feel gravity, now he was weightless. The air might as well have been water, though it didn’t press on him.
The view of Gotham was breathtaking from up here. Evening was closing in on a rare day with few clouds for Gotham which meant blue actually peeked through in spots.
Danny sent him a grin and Jason’s stomach did a flip. When Danny moved so he only held Jason’s hand, Jason noticed they were both somewhat see-through.
“Are we invisible?” He asked.

“Sure are, don’t wanna catch unwanted attention.”

With those words Danny flew them through the city until they came to a flat topped roof in view of the Gotham U campus. He set Jason down and held his hand until he was steady on his feet as gravity reasserted itself on his body, like a heavy blanket.
“I know a good burger place nearby.” Danny had said he was a student, with Gotham U in view that supported the claim. Danny continued speaking, “I will return with food, but if you want to leave in the mean time-“ He nodded towards the roof access and gave a shrug- “otherwise I will explain things once we have eaten. Any allergies or dislikes?”
Jason numbly shook his head. Danny faded away like a mirage, leaving Jason with just the view of the old campus buildings.
Jason sat down to wait. Danny had given him an out, but there was no way Jason could let this go. Not just because of his training, but because he needed to know. If Danny knew anything of what had brought Jason back…
Of course it occurred to him that Danny might have just fled himself, it would have been the smart thing to do. He had no obligation to tell Jason anything, Jason was a stranger. But somehow Jason knew Danny wouldn’t have said he’d be coming back if he wasn’t.
Jason’s gut feeling was ratified when Danny returned about 20 minutes later, brandishing a large paper bag and two milkshakes as he turned visible. Somehow Jason had felt he was there just a moment before he turned into visibility, like a prickle on his skin - it was something to examine later.
Danny had brought them both cheeseburgers and fries. The burgers were juicy and the fries crisp and spiced. Jason felt more real, more himself with hot food in his belly. Danny had given him the choice between the cherry or the pistachio milkshake as he set down beside Jason. He had chosen the cherry - it was good. With those flavor options he had to wonder what more options they had.
When their impromptu rooftop picnic was done, aside from the last of their milkshakes. Jason’s eye were drawn to Danny’s calloused hands, where they fiddled nervously with the straw.
Something was building, there was a grim set to Danny mouth and Jason was suddenly uncertain if he really wanted an explanation at all. Danny had powers that Jason could feel because they were death related, so what? That was an explanation of a sort already.
“I died when I was fourteen.”
The statement was like a punch to the gut, and Jason felt just as breathless. He snapped his head to Danny, about to tell him that he really didn’t have to tell him that, but Danny held up a hand. He met Jason’s eyes squarely, somehow conveying that it was okay, that he wanted to share this.
“An interdimensional portal opened up right on top of me, killing me, but all that energy also revived me, killed me again and revived me over an over…” His eyes slid from Jason to the skyline haunted and empty. He clenched his fists and took a deep breath, then looked to Jason again. “It left me somewhere in the middle, both dead and alive and neither all at the same time.”
Jason didn’t know what to say. The weight of the trust Danny was showing him by telling him about his death, was heavy like an anchor rooting him to the spot.
“These days,” Danny continued in a lighter tone, “I consider myself something of a bridge between the spirit and the living world. I help where I can in between trying to live and I get to be kidnapped by death cults because of my energy.” Danny shrugged carelessly, but the pinched eyebrows gave away how anxious he was about Jason’s reaction.
It was honestly not the strangest story Jason had ever heard. The world was a strange place what was one more addition to the tapestry that was Jason’s life? A thought occured to him. He carefully looked out over the city - the sunset painted the sky red in between the skyscrapers - and steeled his voice neutral.
“A bridge huh? Between the physical and the spirit world…”
“Yeah.”
“Do you also master all four elements?”
“No, mostly just ice- wait a moment,” Danny’s head snapped to face him as he caught on to the Avatar joke and he promptly punched his shoulder.
Jason laughed.
“It is not funny!” Danny insisted, yet he had to cover his mouth to muffle the laughter that wanted to escape. For a moment his shoulders quaked in silence but then he gave in and laughed.
“Fuck you, Jason, I was trying to handle this conversation respectful of the heavy subject.” Then almost as afterthought he muttered, “Ancients, I never thought of it like that.”
He leaned all the way back until he was lying on the roof, looking up to the sky. Jason followed suit.
“I don’t want to talk about my death,” Jason admitted.
“That’s alright. It’s not the sort of thing you ask a spirit to share, it has to be freely given.”
Jason turned his head to look at Danny.
“Is that what I am? A spirit?”
“I’m not entirely sure, I’ve never met anyone like you before.”
Jason should probably ask him to elaborate, milk him for all the information he had. Danny was a being with still unknown powers in Gotham, Bruce would be unbearable if he learned. But Danny didn’t feel like a threat to him and Jason was tired of asking questions.
From next to him he heard a sigh.
“For a moment back there,” Danny started a wistful note in his voice, “I actually thought I might be getting lucky tonight.”
Jason snorted at the unexpected subject change. He hesitated for a moment, but then threw caution to the wind. “Who says you aren’t?”
Danny sat up so fast he jumped a foot off the ground - he didn’t even seem to notice the fact he was still hovering as he turned around in the air to face him hovering above him. “You gotta be yanking my tail! After all this?”
Jason shrugged, deliberately moving his arms a bit higher where they pillowed his head. He smirked, delighted at the way Danny’s eyes were drawn to the sliver of skin revealed as his shirt drew up.
“I, uh-“
Something occurred to Jason. “Do you have a tail to yank?”
This time it was Danny’s turn to smirk, his teeth were distinctly sharper than they had been a moment ago. Jason’s mouth went dry.
“Sometimes, when I want to.”
Jason had almost forgotten what question he had asked. When it sunk in he blushed at the implication he could change his shape. Trying to regain his composure, he teased, “So it’s a deliberate choice to be a skinny twink?”
Danny flicked his nose for that. “No, this is just me. My low energy state if you want.” He paused for a moment considering then added teasingly, “I can’t change my shape much in human form.”
“Human form?” Jason asked curiously.
Danny hummed, and reached out slowly, leaving plenty of time for Jason to move away. He didn’t. He did shudder though, when cold fingers brushed his cheek and trailed down his throat. He could feel the power held in check, a tsunami behind a dam. Holding Danny’s eyes he tilted his head back to give him more room.
Danny sucked in a breath. His eyes darkened and Jason felt the power ripple.
“Maybe I’ll show you,” Danny said slowly, “if you’re very good.”
Jason swallowed. Yeah, he could be good. He could be very good.
When Danny kissed him, Jason thought this hadn’t been too bad a day after all. Even despite the weirdness, Jason would take it. And the night? The night was shaping up to be all the better.
Bonus:
“What the Hell, Jason!”Jason startled awake at Dick’s outburst from behind him.
“You couldn’t have called us to say you were alright? I know you have more than the one phone!” Dick continued his tirade.
Danny was as awake as Jason and looked up at him with wide eyes from where he was conveniently hidden by Jason’s larger frame. Jason resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose.
“Wing,” he said tiredly as he worked to disentangle himself from Danny and turn around, but Dick didn’t even hear. He was pacing back and forth, very much not done with his rant.
“Nooooo, you get grabbed on open street and we get to find some weird cult, with a huge magic circle and strange bubbling liquids, and they have your wallet and phone - and your tracker. I can’t believe you didn’t bother to get it when you escaped!”
“Wing,” Jason tried again.
“Of all the-“
“Nightwing!” Jason said firmly with great emphasis on the call sign.
Dick spun to look at him finally. He did a double take when he saw Danny peeking over Jason’s shoulder with wide eyes.
“Danny, meet my friend Nightwing, we go back a long time. Like I mentioned, my dad being who he is, kidnapping is a risk and you meet people this way.” Jason gave Dick a telling glare and his mouth clicked shut, message obviously delivered: Jason was not compromised but he sure would be if Dick kept blabbering.
“Wing, this is Danny, my co-would-be-sacrifice. He’s a regular Houdini with rope and locked doors, he got us out.”
“Hi,” Danny said hesitantly raising a hand in a little wave.
Dick rubbed his face. “You could have called.”
“I was busy.”
“I can see that! Just-” Dick threw up his hands and walked to the window he’d entered through, “call your dad before you get busy again, he’s worried.”
He left through the window and didn’t even bother to close it, dick. Jason turned to look at Danny, he was beet red.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, “I didn’t even consider they might have taken your things.”
“They didn’t take yours?” They mustn’t have, Danny had gotten them food.
“I- um,” Danny grimaced then admitted, “I store my phone and wallet in my thigh for the most part.”
For a moment Jason stared, then he burst out laughing. Danny slapped his chest.
“It’s not that funny!”
But really it was, especially because of the way Danny pouted. He leaned down to kiss the pout away but Danny stopped him with a hand over his mouth.
“No, you go call your dad so we don’t get more surprise visitors.”
- Hope you enjoyed! If I get the time I want to write a small sequel for one of the last days, but I haven't started yet so we'll see.
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lordprettyflackotara · 4 months
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till dawn || eyeless jack || bonus part
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SMUT. MINORS DNI. 18+. tw: this is unfortunately very fluffy as well as smutty. if you came here for raw intense fucking wait until i release my new one shot with ej called huntin’ wabbitz. this is for the till dawn girlies ONLY. enjoy <3
“Why are we doing this again?”
Jeff’s voice was harsh, raising the question Ben had as well. The blonde stood in front of Jack, attempting to gracefully finish tying the demons bow tie. “Well Jeff in human culture weddings are a symbolic ceremony of love and unconditional commitment,” Ben explained, not glancing up at the pale killer. Somehow your request of a wedding had managed to get every creep dressed up, including Jacks friends.
Jeff went to run his fingers through his ash black hair, frowning once he realized it was in a man bun. “Yeah no I obviously have that part down pat. But I meant why are we doing this? We aren’t exactly humans anymore you know,” Jeff pointed out. Ben smiled as he finished adjusting Jacks bow tie. The sapphire blue suited him the best, according to Clockwork anyways.
“You are aware she’s a human right?” Ben asked. Jeff sighed, refraining himself from face palming. “As everyone has been talking about for the past twenty four hours, yes I am aware she’s a human,” Jeff answered. Ben went to defend you further, Jacks voice interrupting the blonde.
“We’re doing this because it’s what she wants.”
Believe it or not, Jack was apprehensive about the whole thing. It wasn’t the ceremony he feared or the social pressure to lift his mask to kiss your sweet lips. It was having you around so many creeps at once. The residents at Slender’s mansion had grown accustomed to your presence. You became just another resident, killer or not. Even the proxies had grown fond of you, initially pushing back on your stay due to your mortality. It may not have been a life they would’ve chosen for themselves, but you had proved time and time again your love for Jack prevailed all doubts.
It was also highly convenient to have someone able to grocery shop without a swat team being called.
You hadn’t outright come out and said you wanted marriage to Jack, but he was no fool. The magazines left out with pages of rings and dresses. Weddings were apart of your kinds culture and more importantly, they meant something to you. It wasn’t long after that Jack bribed Hoodie into helping him rob a jewelry store to get as many rings as they could carry. What else was he supposed to do? He didn’t know your ring size and he couldn’t possibly acquire the knowledge and be inconspicuous at the same time.
Word of your engagement spread like wildfire, the concept alone unheard of. Creeps from all over, including the Trenderman mansion, had been invited per your request. You had never met Laughing Jack, Jason the toy maker, Candypop, etc. Yet, you wanted all of them there for your special day. Jack thought it was touching once he put aside all of his fears about having that many immortal psychopaths around you. The main reason every creep turned up to your wedding was simple: you were human.
Outside of proxies, the supernatural haze that imbedded itself into creeps. It slowed down their aging, kept their bloodlust prevalent. Many of them didn’t even recall their human life. If they even had one to begin with. The idea alone that someone like you, could love someone endlessly like them was incomprehensible. This resulted in every creep on the planet to attend, that fact alone making Jack more nervous.
Slenderman had high expectations of his residents, ensuring that although unhinged they would maintain a stable and respectable behavior. Many of the creeps attending, including X-Virus and Nina the killer, were highly unpredictable. In the back of his mind he doubted that he would be able to protect you from all of them.
“Dude you should sit down, you don’t look so good,” Ben said, guiding him to sit down on the end of the bed. It was rare Jack had his mask off and it was most certainly non negotiable during the ceremony. But here in his bedroom with his (whether he’d admit it or not) best friends, he felt comfortable enough to take it off. Just for a moment. “You look kinda pale,” Jeff said, helping Ben guide Jack to sit down. The demon stifled a laugh. “Yeah you’re one to talk casper,” He chuckled.
Jeff rolled his eyes, a knock on the door interrupting a comeback that threatened to roll off of his tongue. The pale killer answered the door, revealing you. You were mesmerizing, the white dress Jane and Clockwork helped you acquire fitting you perfect. “I’d like a moment alone with Jack, if y’all don’t mind,” You say. Ben and Jeff exchanged glances. “Isn’t there some tradition about not seeing the bride until-” Jeff began, Ben’s hand planting a sharp slap on his shoulder.
“Hey dude what the fuck-”
Ben grabbed Jeff’s suit sleeve, dragging him towards the door. “Message received, see you guys at the ceremony,” He chimed cheerfully, a confused and mumbling Jeff trailing behind him. You could hear grumbling about Ben tearing the suit, the complaining making you giggle. You stepped inside, shutting the door behind you. Jack was eager to be beside you, approaching you quickly.
“Hi there,” You greeted, giving him a genuine smile. Upon seeing your face he began to relax, the dark gray color returning to his face. “You look absolutely stunning my mate,” Jack purred, pressing a kiss to your forehead. The sound of chatter from the hallway made Jack jump, pulling you behind him. He recognized the voices to belong to Laughing Jill and Kate the chaser, two creeps he did not trust. His gaze was centered on the door, your soft hand grabbing his arm.
“Jack, I need you to relax,” You say softly. Your voice was like warm honey, temptation threatening him to look away from the door. How could he protect you if he wasn’t ready? You walked around him, looking up at him as he towered over you. “EJ seriously, it’s okay. I’m okay,” You told him. Jacks gaze finally broke from the door, the sound of the girls straying off in the distance. “It’s hard to focus when there’s so many of my kind around. You’re not a proxy you know, you don’t have Slender’s unlimited protection,” Jack explained. His eyebrows furrowed as you admired his suit, rubbing his fingers over the suit jackets fabric.
“Maybe not. But I have yours, Jeffs, Ben’s, the proxies, Jane’s grown to like me I think, oh and Smiley,” You replied, giving him a small smile. Jacks eyebrows furrowed, tilting his head to the side. “You really think we could take on all of them and win?” He questioned. You giggled. You took his large hand, guiding him over to the window. You gestured for him to look outside, the creeps all taking their seats and talking. “This isn’t a war EJ. They’re not here to kill me. They’re here to celebrate,” You say. Jack watched as Smiley chased Sally around the yard, Slender and Trender caught up in a telepathic conversation at the podium.
Where the fuck did they get a podium?
“I guess what i’m trying to say is that you worry too much. Your friends like me right? So will they,” You told him, tucking your hair behind your ears. Jack contemplated your reasoning, glancing down and spotting the bloody painter. “You invited the bloody painter?” Jack questioned. You followed his gaze, spotting him talking to X-Virus. “I guess? Does it matter?” You asked, raising your eyebrows. Jack inhaled sharply. The last time he saw the Bloody Painter it ended in a bloody brawl. No pun intended.
“He’s just uh, not my favorite person on the planet,” Jack answered dryly. His gaze was locked onto him, refusing to shift away. You grabbed Jacks chin, guiding him to look at you. “I don’t like the idea of him seeing you. Being near you,” Jack admitted. It was something primal, something he couldn’t shake off. You were his mate and an enemy was prancing around his territory. “Guess you should show him who I belong to then,” You suggested, biting your bottom lip.
Jack could hear your heart skip a beat, a smile creeping across his face. “Oh you naughty little thing,” He whispered, bringing his lips to yours. Jack was never soft or gentle, but he tried his hardest to be so he didn’t ruin the dress. His kisses were hungry and desperate, his primal instincts ensuing. “How long do we have until the ceremony starts?” Jack asked, his lips refusing to stray from yours. You giggled, lying down on his bed. “Oh I don’t know, maybe till dawn?” You teased. Jack pounced on top of you, giving you a small smile.
“Need to know how much time I have with you love,” He purred, his breath hot against your ear. The sensation made you shudder in pleasure, your body igniting itself on fire. “Maybe twenty minutes?” You guessed. Jacks hands slowly pulled up your tight dress before cupping your drenched heat. “Okay maybe thirty,” You groaned. He could feel your dampness through your lacey white panties, the feeling alone euphoric. “Tsk tsk. Dressed so pure when you know I stole that purity long ago,” Jack hummed, teasingly dragging two fingers up and down your slit.
You whined, your hips bucking upwards. “Jack we don’t have time for teasing,” You say, eager to feel him. The demon above you quietly snickered, pushing your panties to the side. “It’s our wedding, they can wait,” He said, dropping to his knees. He dragged you by your thighs to the end of the bed, playfully licking up your thigh. “Jack please,” You whined, running your fingers through his hair. You tugged harshly at the roots, trying to drag him to your cunt. “So desperate,” Jack murmured before diving into your folds.
You could never explain or process the euphoria his three tongues provided. Two would shove themselves inside of you, scissoring your walls to stretch you out as much as they could. The third would attach itself to your clit, stimulating the bud as much as possible. It was an indescribable feeling, one that always made you moan and pant like a wild animal. Jack had purposefully gave you head everyday for a month, just to train the muscles in his tongues to be able to fuck you better.
As much as you were hesitant, it paid off.
“Fucking shit, Jack!” You moaned, throwing your head back as his large hands pried your thighs open. A primal growl rumbled in the bottom of his throat, his gaze centered on watching you fall apart. His tongues curled to begin abusing your g spot, your back arching off of the bed. You yanked at his locs, trying to pry him away from your aching cunt. You bit your bottom lip. “Jack if you keep that up you’re going to get very wet,” You threatened, your face turning red. You always got embarrassed of your bodies natural functions, Jack noticed. He didn’t see the point. He had seen every part of you and adored every nanometer.
You also had squirted on his fingers, tongues, and cock more times than he could count. How you orgasmed didn’t matter to him. He smirked as he continued his motions, your thighs trembling in his grasp. You whimpered as you came, your juices squirting across his face. You could feel your face growing hot, some of Jacks suit jacket soaked. He leaned back, your juices coating some of his clothing. He could hear your heart practically pounding against your rib cage.
“Goddammit-” Inhale. “Jack-” Exhale. “Your suits now all wet,” You sighed, trying to swallow as much air as possible Jack on the other hand was gleaming with pride, helping you rise to your feet. “It’ll dry. Besides, I think it’s pretty fucking hot,” He purred. He brought you over in front of his full length mirror, bringing your hands to either side of it to hold yourself up for support. “You look so beautiful, just watch yourself crumble for me,” Jack ordered. You could hear the clinking of his belt, the demon then wrapping his arms around your waist.
The height difference was one that couldn’t be ignored. Originally you didn’t think it would be possible for Jack to fuck you standing. That was of course until one eventful morning in the shower made it possible. All he had to do was pick you up and guide you down onto his cock. He did just that, watching you awkwardly balance on your tip toes to stay standing. As many times as you took him it always felt the same, your walls spasming around him as you struggled to take his girth.
“You’re doing so well for me beautiful, now open your eyes and watch,” Jack purred, placing a kiss on the side of your head. You felt him bottom out inside of you, the bulge of his cock visible through your dress. You whimpered as he let you adjust to him, his ears twitching at the sound of your heart beat. It always sped up when he first entered you, creating an addicting sympathy he wanted to hear forever. He swallowed as his gaze fell down to your neck, the urge to cover you in marks ensuing.
Jacks large hands grabbed your hips, slowly guiding you up and down his cock. “Fucking- fuck,” You moaned, struggling to keep your eyes open. Jack couldn’t control himself as he thrusted into you, his mind emptying entirely. “Such a good mate for me, taking me like this,” He panted. He licked the tender side of your neck, a chill running down your spine as he continued to fuck you. “You like this huh? Being used like my own personal fleshlight?” Jack chuckled darkly. Your head fell forward, your eyes screwing shut.
“Oh don’t get all shy on me now. Look at yourself,” Jack ordered. He slithered one hand up to your face, forcing you to look up. “Watch as I breed you mate. Fucking watch,” Jack rambled, grinning as your lips puckered out like a fish. Your noises were sinful, Jack couldn’t help but have an egotistical sense of pride. You could feel your second orgasm coming, your hands grabbing onto Jacks arm.
“J-Jack i’m gonna cum,” You panted. Jack’s hand slithered to your throat, squeezing the airway. “Not yet mate, wait for me,” He ordered. He continued to snap his hips into yours, your body beginning to shake as you tried to listen. “F-f-fuck I can’t-” You rambled. You moaned as you felt him choke you harder. “Awe you wanna cum so badly? Go on, cum. Cum on my fucking cock,” Jack huffed. The cord inside of you snapped, your body trembling as Jack came undone inside of you. Cumming anywhere besides deep in your cunt was out of the question, your pussy often dripping with his seed.
For a brief moment Jack held you in place, enjoying the feeling of your abused walls settling down around his shaft. “EJ?” You panted, still dazed. Your fingertips traced over the bulge that showed through your stomach. “Yeah?” Jack hummed. He wiped your smudged eye makeup, trying to clean you up without taking you off of his cock. “We’re still supposed to be getting married you know,” You chuckled. Jack playfully sighed, rolling his non existent eyes. He lifted you off of him, your bare feet hitting the wooden floor.
You turned around, pressing your lips to his. You smiled into the kiss, Jacks hands going to help you fix your dress. “How kind of you good sir,” You say teasingly, both of you letting out a genuine chuckle. A loud knock made both of you jump, Jacks eyebrows furrowing.
“Guys i’m not going to come in I know what you guys are up to but everyone’s hungry can you come get married already?” Ben asked. Jack quickly redressed himself, the two of you making sure the other was presentable. Once you both were properly dressed Jack opened the door. Ben’s eyes were buried in his hands. “Ben you can look at us you know,” Jack said, reaching over to his nightstand and grabbing his mask. The blonde shook his head. You stuck your head out from behind Jack.
“You really don’t wanna see me naked?” You asked curiously. You couldn’t help but burst into a fit of giggles as Ben quickly looked at you. Jack went to hit him, the blonde dodging his hit. “You gotta be faster than that Jacky boy,” He said teasingly, running down the hallway. Jack looked at you, his blue mask secured to his face. You stood on your tippy toes, pressing a kiss to his mask before encouraging him, “Go get em tiger, i’ll make sure the bridal party is ready.”
The bridal party in question was standing in beside the alter. Toby was your maid of honor, the ticking time bomb the most excited out of the three of them. Masky and Hoodie on the other hand, could not believe you roped them into this. “They’re fucking right now aren’t they?” Masky asked. Their gazes fell on Jack chasing Ben across the yard. “Maybe Ben got a peak, lucky man,” Hoodie snickered. Masky elbowed his partner, rolling his eyes. “They’re going on a honeymoon right? We’re never gonna get any sleep if they stay here after this is over,” Masky grumbled. They watched as Jack tackled Ben, the two tumbling to the ground.
“Where could they even go for a honeymoon?” Hoodie questioned. Toby waved cheerfully as you walked out of the back door. “They’re going to a remote cabin Slender got for them, isn’t that sweet?” He asked, smiling as you wobbled across the yard. Masky and Hoodie exchanged glances before resuming a calm facade. “Ten dollars says she’s pregnant by the time she gets back,” Hoodie said immediately. Masky grabbed a twenty dollar bill out of his pocket and showed it to his friends. “Make it twenty, not physically possible,” Masky replied. He raised his eyebrows as he watched Ben climb Jack like a jungle gym, the two in a petty brawl.
“They are aware they’re supposed to be getting married right now right?” Hoodie asked, watching as you smiled and greeted Laughing Jill and Jack. Masky sighed, reaching in his pocket and grabbing a box of cigarettes. “You can’t do that! This is a sacred ceremony!” Toby gasped, his head twitching to the side. Masky dug around in his suit pockets for a lighter. “Yeah yeah it’ll be fine kid. How long are we required to be here anyways? Boss was pretty vague with us,” Masky asked. Toby’s smile was cheerful as Hoodie handed Masky a lighter.
“He said till dawn.”
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bloatedandalone04 · 8 days
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She Keeps Me Up
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➪the one where you and tyler decide to spend some time on the kitchen counter after a night out.
Warnings: smut, fluff, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), mentions of alcohol consumption, i pictured reader a bit younger so maybe small age gap ?
Word Count: 1.7k
Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡ | THANK YOU FOR 5.3K FOLLOWERS
You and Tyler were a bit tipsy as you stumbled into your house at one in the morning. 
The entryway was dark, and instead of turning the light on for him to be able to see what he was doing, you left him in the darkness and sauntered off into the kitchen. Tyler scoffed and shook his head, a faint smirk on his lips as he kicked off his boots and followed after you.
He found you rummaging through the fridge, and when you turned to face him with a can of whipped cream in your hand, his smirk grew. “What are you doin’?” He asked, his voice a bit deeper than normal due to the few beers he had at the dive bar down the road. “You promised me that you would go right to bed when we got home.”
You lifted a brow and tilted your head. “That doesn’t sound like me,” you said back, grinning at him before popping the lid off and letting the piece of plastic fall to the tiled floor. “Want some?” You asked with a teasing smile that had Tyler stepping further into the room.
“I’m aware it doesn’t sound like you. That’s why I’m not surprised you’re being a little troublemaker as usual,” he said back. “And you know I don’t eat that crap, I just buy it for you.”
He was now standing in front of you, his grin matching yours as his hands found their normal place on your hips. 
“Besides, you taste better than what’s in that can, anyway,” he added and you bit down on your lip as he leaned down and brushed his lips against your ear. “Let me take you to bed, baby. Please?”
Never had Tyler ever been one to beg before he met you, but now he would gladly get on his fucking knees and do it if it meant he got a taste of you. Getting him to admit that, though…that was an entirely different thing. 
Tyler leaned further in to press his lips to yours, but you pulled away before he could get a taste of your sweet mouth. “What’s wrong with right here?” You hummed, rounding the island as you licked the tip of the can.
His eyes took in the stripe of white that coats your tongue before it disappeared back inside your mouth, and he huffed before slowly walking towards you again. “You’re such a brat,” he grunted before grabbing the can from your hand and tossing it carelessly onto the counter behind him. His hands reached down to grip the backs of your thighs, and he lifted you up onto the island counter. “But I’ll play your little game, baby.”
You grinned as he positioned himself between your thighs and connected your lips in a deep, whipped cream tasting kiss. His tongue brushed along yours, the sweet treat coating his own taste buds as he tangled his fingers in your hair and tilted your head a bit for better access to your mouth. “You’re too easy,” you smirked before leaning back in and kissing him again. 
Tyler groaned against your mouth as his hands worked on unbuttoning your jeans and sliding them down your legs until they landed on the floor. His hands slid up your bare thighs before reaching around you to grab your ass, and he gave it a firm squeeze before his fingers hooked inside your panties as he dragged them down your legs as well. He broke away from the kiss to look you in the eyes, a teasing glint in his green orbs. “That’s a pretty bold thing to say to the guy who’s about to go down on you, sweetheart,” he murmured and reveled in the quiet moan that left your lips as he dropped to his knees on the tile and tugged you closer to the edge of the counter. 
“You’d never deny me,” you managed to say as he gripped your knees and spread your legs apart before leaning in to begin placing kisses along your soft skin. “Ty, please.”
He smirked against your inner thigh at how quickly he got you to be the one who was begging, before he leaned in and licked a stripe up your folds, parting them with his tongue. “Mm, fuck yeah,” he groaned, glancing up at you in the dark kitchen as you gripped the edge of the counter. “You taste way better than the shit that’s in that can.”
You laughed quietly before immediately moaning as he sucked your puffy clit into his mouth and flicked his tongue over it a few times. “Oh fuck,” you whimpered as your grip tightened on the marble surface. “Just like that, Ty.” 
Tyler groaned again, pulling away from your clit to press soft kisses to your wet slit. “You’re so wet for me, baby,” he praised before burying his face in your pussy. 
“Tyler,” you gasped, reaching down to tug on his hair. “So good…feels so good.” 
He hummed at your words, his hands gripping your hips as he practically devoured you as if he was a starved man. Your body rolled against his face as your moans got louder and louder, and he knew you were already getting close. 
The dancing and touching you and he were doing at the bar was definitely a form of foreplay since you both were already riled and worked up. It wasn’t surprising that you were already close to coming. 
“Please,” you whimpered, threading your fingers through his hair as you leaned further back on the counter. “Please.” 
He could tell from the whine in your voice that you were seconds away from your sweet release, but since you decided to be a bit of a brat both at the bar and now here, he pulled away from your heat before you could cum on his tongue. 
“Not yet,” he murmured, blowing a puff of cool air directly onto your drenched core before standing up. 
You whined and opened your mouth to complain like always, but he silenced you before anything could be said by kissing you deeply and messily. His tongue brushed against yours as his hands moved down to his jeans, his fingers fumbling with the zipper. “I need you,” you whimpered against his mouth, sliding your hands down his chest until your fingers curled around his white tee and dragged it up until the fabric was off his shoulders and on the floor.
Tyler freed his aching cock as you pulled him towards you, and a second later he was burying himself deep inside your tight warmth. “Fuck,” he groaned, his big hands coming up to squeeze your breasts through your shirt before he quickly pulls the thin fabric off you and scrambles to unhook your bra. “You feel so good.”
You moaned before leaning up to kiss him deeply, your bare chest bumping against his as he fucked you hard on the counter. Your hands pulled on his hair and made it messy as he grunted against your lips, the feeling of your tight body wrapped around his never failing to make him go a bit feral. 
He breaks the kiss and looks down at where his cock disappeared and reappeared with each thrust, and he locked his jaw to hold back his moans. You felt so fucking good, he wasn’t sure how he was ever supposed to get used to having you like this since every time felt better than the last, and he’s been with you for two years now. “So fuckin’ perfect,” he nearly growled, his thumbs coming up to pinch your nipples into stiff peaks. “Fuck, I love you.”
You moaned, tipping your head back as he ravished your chest with his greedy hands. “Mm, I love you,” you say back, threading your fingers through his hair again before tugging firmly at the strands. “Fuck me, Ty. Harder.”
Tyler grunted, gripping your hips as he lifted you up until you were barely being held up by the counter anymore, instead just by his arms. The sweet sound of your moans spurred him on, and the faint slapping of his skin against yours sounded throughout the kitchen, and it was times like this when he was glad you and he finally were able to get your own house, because now he could be as rough as he wanted, and you could get as loud as you wanted. The thin walls of your old apartment did very little to muffle the sounds you and he made during sex, and he was sure your neighbors were thrilled the day you moved out and began living with him.
“Oh fuck,” you moaned, pulling on his hair harder as he stretches you open, making you entirely his for the taking. “Just like that, Ty. It’s so good.”
“You’re so tight,” he muttered, leaning down to press his lips to your neck. Despite the harsh pounding of his hips, Tyler’s kisses are soft and sweet, and a nice contrast to the way he was currently shaping you so you could only take him. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum.”
One of his hands left your hip and reached in between your bodies, his middle finger instantly finding your clit. 
“I want you to cum too, baby,” he rasped as you moaned desperately and clung onto his shoulders.
“I’m gonna…” you trail off as you bury your face against the side of his neck. “Oh, my God.” Then you were coming around his cock, his name falling from your lips over and over again as your body trembled in his arms. 
“There you go. There you go, baby,” he murmured, kissing along your neck as he fucked you through your high until he came too. Sweat ran down his forehead as he buried himself in you one final time before filling you up, feeling the way your walls greedily took everything he had. “Fuck, you’re so good.”
You grinned and leaned in to press your forehead against his. “See? Wasn’t that better than just going to sleep?” You asked with a teasing tone in your voice that had Tyler rolling his eyes and pressing a quick kiss to your lips. 
“Yeah yeah,” he mumbled, slowly pulling out of you but keeping your legs locked around his waist. “You’re lucky you’re hot.”
A quiet laugh left your lips as you hugged him close. “So, what are you thinking; shower? Or bed?”
322 notes · View notes
mrsimpurity · 1 month
Note
Perhaps some sfw and nsfw alphabet headcanon for Wolverine?
hi anon! ty for the request
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nsfw alphabet with logan
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
king of aftercare!! prepare yourself for snuggles. logan  smothers you in kisses, carries you to the bathroom and sets you down in the bathtub himself (he’ll join you if he’s up for another round ;) )
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
he loves everything about you, but he’s undoubtedly a thighs man. and not only when it comes to your thighs of course, because he likes to remind you of that one time you were so desperate, you got off on his thigh..
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
no questions asked, logan’s gonna cum inside you (with consent ofc). he’ll spread your legs and push it back inside as it drips out, letting you lick up the remnants of his release on his fingers.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
sometimes, logan waits for you to get out of the bathroom so he can take a shower, because he sees that you’re tired and he’s not too sure he can contain himself if you’re both in there.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
let’s be honest, logan’s over 200 years old, he’s more than experienced. but you don’t mind that. he’s yours and he’s made it clear, so his experience can only benefit you.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
logan loves fucking you in missionary. sure, you riding him is more than nice, but there’s no better feeling than being able to tower over your body as he makes love to you. it makes him feel like a protector, and in return makes you feel safe, especially because you both enjoy the eye contact.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
he’s not really the most serious guy during sex, he’ll definitely let out a chuckle or two, especially when you won’t stop squirming and moaning at his teasing.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
logan is definitely hairy, but the two of you have no problem with that. he’s well groomed down there despite of his hairy chest (you like to tease him about it, but it’s definitely a fav of yours).
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
oh logan doesn’t fuck, he makes LOOOVE. this is one of the most important factors in his relationship with you. he notices if something’s off and communication is key, so sex is definitely the best way for him to apologize, blow off some steam or just show you how much he loves you.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
he doesn’t do it very often. likes “saving himself for you”. also, he finds it pointless. he’s not a teenager, so if you’re not in the mood or just not feeling okay, masturbating or sex in general is the last thing on his mind.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
breeding kink for suuure. just the thought of you filled with his warm cum, or perhaps with a swollen belly, carrying the result of the love between you guys.. he keeps it to himself but you’re pretty much aware of it by now, with all the times he’s come inside you.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
besides the bedroom, of course, logan loves taking you on the kitchen counter. sometimes it’s solely for your pleasure, but the thought of you splayed out for him on the kitchen island in just your bra definitely gets him worked up.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
this one is a no brainer - he loves it when you’re not wearing a bra. this happens only when the two of you are home alone, but it always ends up in the bedroom, especially when you’re wearing that satin cami top of yours, tits spilling out of the flimsy piece of clothing.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
he doesn’t have any hard nos, he’s comfortable with whatever you’re comfortable with, but he’s a little too afraid to try breath play (he’s scared he’s gonna hurt you, the 6’2 hound of a man he is).
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
logan is definitely skilled, his tongue has you needing to be kept down with the palm of his hand on your stomach. he loves watching you squirm and moan as he sucks on your swollen nub.
he doesn’t need you returning the favor, or at least he’d never actually voice it, though the sight of you on your knees, bobbing your head along the length of his cock is definitely engraved in his mind.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
it depends on the situation, but logan’s never actually rough with you, hence why he’s a little too hesitant to slap and push you around, even after you stated multiple times that you were alright with it. that’s just the way he is.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
logan’s not a huge fan of quickies; except for when you’re heading out with a tiny skirt.. trust, he’ll pull it up, come inside of you and fix you up, putting your shoes on and delivering a gentle slap to your ass as you walk out the door. “come on, bub, you don’t wanna be late, do you?”
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
he has no problem experimenting. in fact, he himself suggested that he tie your hands during sex one night and you were appreciative of the idea so that definitely helped the both of you relax a bit.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
your pleasure is of utmost importance to him. he’ll make you come on his fingers or tongue at least once before he even thinks about taking his cock out of his pants. he’d never overwork you though, so your limits are his limits as well.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
he doesn’t use toys, he finds them pointless. “what, my fingers ain’t enough, bub?”
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
logan is a teaseee, i’m telling you. one time, he made you finger yourself while he watched. “come on, doll, you can do better than that. put a second finger inside.”
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
logan definitely lets out a few occasional grunts and curses when he’s deep inside of you. “fuck, you feel so good, baby.”
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
he loves it when you cockwarm him. sometimes it’s just the two of you snuggling on the couch, covered by a mere blanket, but the closeness of the act has his mind going hazy.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
his abs are to die for. whenever the two of you are making out, you put your hands there to steady yourself and to feel him. logan loves the way his body has you going crazy.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
i’d say it’s pretty high. most of the time you’re the one to initiate stuff though. logan likes to tease you about it and he lets it be that way not only because he likes seeing you embarrassed, but because he wouldn’t want to push anything on you.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
he never falls asleep before you!! one time, you were convinced logan sang you to sleep, but he denied it the next morning. to this day, you still remember him humming some lullaby while tracing soft circles on your back.
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dystopyx-blog · 18 days
Text
more yandere octotrio!
Dedicated to @mr-trick <3 ty for your support
"Your grades have been slipping."
When you had been called into Azul's office, you certainly weren't expecting him to scold you like a parent. To add insult to, well, insult, Jade and Floyd were there, too, and the latter couldn't stop themselves from snickering.
"I wasn't aware that was any of your business." You shot back. You didn't bother asking how he knew–you'd had twin eels trailing you since Azul's overblot. It was rare for you to go anywhere these days without the sight of one looming at you from this distance. If their heights didn't make them obvious enough, there was the eyes. Though you had a feeling stealth wasn't the goal.
You'd be right. The tweels found it very important that you knew they were close by. Azul may have preferred for them to be stealthier, but they enjoyed your reactions too much. Plus, their presence kept others away. It's probably why Azul let them continue.
But back to the scene at hand.
Azul's response comes naturally, almost too naturally–as if he was prepared for that response. "Of course it is. The success of Night Raven students has always been my business–"
The look you hit him with was enough to stop him in his tracks.
He chuckled, adjusting his tie and his approach. "Of course, business has changed in recent times. In the past the goal was to attract as many poor unfortunate souls as I could, offering contracts with the goal to better myself, and not them. But now I've mended my ways and made a switch, so to speak. Now I wish to truly help and better those I come into contact with, starting with those I already feel close or indebted to. And what better first than the one who helped me see the light in the first place."
He waited for your response, but you offered none. Not unless you included your suspicion.
"Look, business has been rough lately since the incident, and helping you seems like the best way to restore people's faith in me."
"And thus the truth comes out."
You were so proud of yourself for sussing him out. What you didn't know is that that wasn't the truth–like at all. He didn't give a fuck what the other students thought of him, especially since he was still getting business regardless. This was about you and spending time with you, the strange, magicless student that had caught his attention like a worm on a hook. Buy to you, that would be even harder to believe than an act of true goodwill.
But that didn't matter anyway, because he had you. You agreed to help him out of the goodness of your heart–taking the opportunity to mock him. It was difficult for Azul to keep the smirk from his face as you fell into his hand. He could tell the twins felt the same way. Even if he couldn't see then standing behind him, he could still tell when Jade's gloved hand went to cover his smile, and when Floyd's slight sway stilled just enough to zero in on you.
With that, a deal had been made: you let Azul help you out of the "goodness of his heart," and you spread the word of Azul's redemption arc.
As soon as you're gone, Azul lets an easy smirk spill onto his face like oil in water.
"We got 'em boys."
What would follow is a series of study sessions, every night, either with Floyd, Jade, or Azul himself. Study session with Floyd rarely involve studying. Sometimes you would start with studying, but he’d always end up getting bored at some point, and then declare you two would be doing something else. Other times, you wouldn’t even get a chance to study, as he’d already be dragging you off somewhere before you can even set your stuff down. Floyd, being Floyd, ‘something else’ could include anything depending on his mood. Some examples of activities you’ve done during study sessions with Floyd: karaoke, ping pong, pottery, a treasure hunt all over the school for something Floyd lost a while ago and had suddenly remembered at that moment (it was in his pocket), ballroom dance classes, shopping, video games, baking. You don’t even bring any study materials with you at this point.
Jade and Azul are more what you’d expect from tutors.
Jade’s method of tutoring is hands off. He mostly just has you do your homework while he sits across from you, working on his own stuff. And if you don’t have homework or finish before study time is up, he’ll give you readings and practice assignments to do. He encourages you to ask him questions whenever you have them, but for the most part, you two are silent. What you don’t realize is that he actually spends most of the time just staring at you. Studying you.
Azul is more hands on. Like with Jade, youre expected to either work on a class assignment, or one of Azul’s specially crafted study guides. Unlike Jade, who always sits across from you, Azul sits—or, more often, stands—next to you. Instead of just silently watching you work, Azul works you through each problem. He’ll often end up hovering next to you, sometimes taking your writing hand in his to guide you through whatever problem you’re working on. He also offers coffee/tea/snack breaks, where you two can just talk, not just about schoolwork, but anything else.
You’re spending every night with one of them. You often get back to Ramshackle late (especially if it was a session with Floyd). You don’t see Horns as much, if at all. Study sessions with your freshman friends become almost nonexistent. Even Grim is starting to see less and less of you everyday.
Who you end up spending the most time with is, of course, the Octotrio. Not just for nightly study sessions anymore. Floyd will approach you outside of tutoring for fun activities. Jade often offers you treats for doing so well, including trips to Sam’s and lunch at Mostró Lounge—all on him, of course. And Azul often pops in to check in on you—to make sure you’re holding up your side of the deal. And, even if you don’t realize it, there’s always at least one of them waiting to walk you to class.
It’s no secret that Azul basically always has business on the brain. And this? This was his strategic move to monopolize you, and he got you hook, line, and sinker.
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urfavlarry · 6 months
Note
i love your sbg content!!!! if you’d like, could i request some ben and tyler hcs (separate) of the reader helping them calm down when they’re pissed at something? im a sucker when angry characters are soft for only certain people. bonus points for gentle hugs and kisses
Tyler & Ben (seperate) x gn!reader
summary: reader helps them calm down after they got pissed off because someone talked shit about reader behind readers back
warnings: swearing, bad grammar, violence, mentions of bl00d
A/N: hope this makes sense i wrote this at 1am so sorry if its shitty😭
Tyler Hernández
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School fights. Typical American high school movie type of shit, but today just had to be one of those days where it happened. You were walking to the front gate of the school when a crowd started to form and a series of ‘oohs’ and cheers were heard. It wouldn’t have interested you if you hadn’t caught your boyfriends name in that crowd. You run over and push through the people and see your boyfriend fighting your friend. You and some other person pull them away from each other, both of them beat up, well the other person a bit more. You pull Tyler by the arm and you hear curses aimed at you and Tyler; “Pussy!” “Booo!” You ignore them and hold Tylers hand, rubbing soothing circles on the back of it. You walk in silence, only Tylers huffing and heavy breathing being heard. He was looking anywhere but you, too angry to even speak.
You unlock your house and drag him to the bathroom upstairs. You sit him down on the edge of the bath tub and you crouch and open the cabinet, taking out the first aid kit. You glance over at him, his leg bouncing like it was running on electricity. “So, are you going to tell me what happened?” You ask softly as you start your clean the blood from his nose and lip, making him hiss in pain. He stays silent for a while as if he was thinking or trying to find the right words to explain the situation.
You wait patiently for him to sort it out in his head and play with his hair while sitting in his lap, softly kissing the spots that were bruised. He pulls you closer and hugs you, his face buried in your chest, mumbling swears and incoherent sentences. You rub his back and hum, knowing that mostly calms him down. He looks up at you, his gaze softening. “You ready to tell me what happened baby?” He nods and you smile, kissing his forehead. He looks away and speaks in a hushed tone; “They were.. spreading shitty things about you, so I defended you.” He says and frowns, looking guilty. “But they fucking deserved it fucking hijo de puta—” You kiss his lips to stop his rambling and his shoulders relax, kissing you back. You smile into the kiss as his hands wander down to your waist, squeezing it gently. You pull away, putting your forehead against his; “Ty, I’m glad you protected me but you don’t need to beat people up for it.” He huffs, quickly snapping back; “But—” You place your finger on his soft lips, shushing him; “No buts, you shouldn’t fight people, I don’t like seeing you hurt.” He cups your cheek and smirks up at you.
“I’d kill for you princesa.” He looks at you lovingly and pulls you into another passionate kiss.
Ben Clark
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You and the group were aware of Bens “anger issues” ever since the day you saw Logan getting bullies by Barron. You were well aware of how things like bullying triggered him so you tried to keep him away from things like that along with Aiden, who was always there to calm him down. Today Aiden wasn’t there, leaving you to deal with an angry Ben. Not that you minded but you never really calmed him down. You pull him away quickly from the fight, making him thrash around and he hits you right in the nose. You hiss in pain but drag him to the schools ‘abandoned’ bathroom. You take out some bandages and tampons, wrapping his bleeding knuckles with the bandages and clean off the blood from his lip with the tampon. He huffs, breathing heavily and his legs tremble. You finish cleaning him and gently pull him into a hug, playing with his hair. He breathes in your scent and seemingly relaxes wrapping his arms around your stomach, pulling you into his lap.
You sat there for a bit, humming the tune of his favorite song and pull away, kissing his cheek, forehead and finally his soft lips. You intended it to be a quick peck on the lips but he pulled you right back, kissing you with a bit more force. You pull away for breath and he hides his face in the crook of your neck. The bells rings but you guys stay seated on the floor of the bathroom. “Can you tell me what happened my love?” You say softly and kiss his cheek. He carefully take put his phone his head still rested against your chest, typing something on his phone.He hands you the phone after he finishes and you read it, making sure to not leave out even a single detail. “Your new friend the one you met in your volleyball class, she was saying some mean shit about you and I just snapped.”
You nod and lift his head up to look at you; “I’m really glad you stood up for me but you know you shouldn’t beat people up. I know it’s harder for you and I promise to help you through it okay?” You say with a smile and kiss his nose. You rub his back soothingly and he just fiddles with his fingers, obviously nervous. You grab his hands and kiss his knuckles, making him smile and you notice just the slightest hint of blush on his cheeks. You guys talk for the rest of the class you skipped in the bathroom and after the last bell rang you went home. You board the bus and sit down next to him and let him sleep for the rest of the bus ride. You both shared headphones and listened to your shared playlist that slowly lulled you to sleep.
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lovebugism · 9 months
Note
Heyo!
Can you pretty please with sugar on top do something with Steve and shy!reader and then passing notes?
Feel free to skip if you want, and thank you in advance! Your writing skills are so good!
ty angel! hope you like it xoxo — after a scolding from keith for talking to you on the job, steve takes matters into his own hands (shy!fem!r, fluff, established relationship, 1.3k)
bug's one year celebration ♡
Grieving, grieving, grieving.
Steve goes into his fourth hour on the clock mourning the lack of you. You’re sitting just beside him, click-clacking away at the chunky computer, but he misses you anyway. He hasn’t said a word to you in an hour. He’s pretty sure it has to be a record by now, especially with you close enough to kiss.
Keith got mad at the two of you for ‘fonduing on the job.’ Whatever that means. Now, the two of you are silent and unsure of what to do with yourselves. This job was only tolerable because he could spend eight hours with you. What’s he supposed to do now? Work?
“Have a good day,” he says, a bit robotically but with a smile, as he hands a customer their bag of movies. Killer Klowns, Poltergeist, and Basketcase — for what must be a horror movie marathon for a holiday season cleanse.
The customer service grin washes away the second the door dings open and shut again. The store is quiet and mostly empty, eerily so without you to fill the void. 
A funny joke pops into his head then, and his first instinct is to tell you about it — just to see you smile ‘cause he knows you’ll laugh even if it’s not funny. He looks over his shoulder to make sure Keith isn’t looking, then finds the weirdo watching him like a hawk, only his beady eyes visible over the aisle of tapes.
Steve cowers beneath the ice-cold glare and turns away again. He reaches for a sticky note instead, bright yellow and with the Family Video logo printed in green at the top. The jotting of his pen against the pad fills the mostly silent store. 
He yawns and fakes a stretch to stick the thing on the counter next to you.
You don’t notice it at first — because inventory has drained your awareness so much that it’s all you can focus on — but you’re smiling the second you do. It schlicks when you un-stick it from the laminate to find a sloppy drawing of a cartoon pig. 
“Missing you pig time” is written in something close to chicken scratch just beside it.
You get all giddy, like a schoolgirl in the back of the classroom getting a note from their crush. Being with Steve feels exactly like that, all the time. On the legal pad next to you, you write a cheesy pun of your own — a plump hippo in a neater cursive that reads “I hippopota-miss you.” 
You rip it from the notebook slowly and with a palm spread flat to avoid making too much noise. You crumble it up to pretend like it’s trash, then intentionally miss the bin beside you. The thing bounces by Steve’s sneakers before he bends down to pick it up with a golden hand.
He smooths out the paper as best he can on the counter. Then leans on his elbow and props his scruffy chin in his palm, using his fingers to hide the beam on his face. With his free hand, he draws you a hedgehog adjacent to the cartoonish animal you’d created — only he doesn’t really remember what a hedgehog looks like, so it’s more of a circle with spikes.
“Could really use a hedge-hug right now,” he writes.
He crushes the paper between his palms and tosses it into your lap.
You shoot him a glare, accompanied with a small smile, but he looks away too quickly to see it. 
You begin to beam as your eyes dart over the crumbled paper, an expression so wide Steve can see it in his own head. He’s grieved to miss it, but he doesn’t want Keith to see him and think he’s distracted again. Besides, he knows if he looks at you too long, he’ll have no choice but to kiss you stupid.
Now all you are is unkissed and grieving, more so than you were just five minutes ago. You grow empty with the feeling. It makes the spark of bravery and sudden longing burn brighter behind your ribcage.
You rise from your squeaking swivel chair and walk the very short distance to Steve. Three steps. Five, maybe. Six at the very most. You don’t count them, too overwhelmed by your love for the boy who doesn’t see you coming.
You wrap him up in your arms, wedging yourself between him and the countertop. Your arms clasp behind his lower back as your cheek squishes into his sternum. He smells like home, cologne, and something warmer.
Steve tenses beneath your embrace. Not because he doesn’t welcome it, but because you’re not usually so affectionate this way. It took you months to kiss him first — longer to stop asking to kiss him before you did it. 
And you’re a delicate little thing, too. You hate getting in trouble. Hate the thought that someone, somewhere in the world, was at some point unhappy with you. And even though you don’t particularly care for your boss, you’d think you’d probably cry if Keith ever scolded you.
Steve knows this, too. So he doesn’t give in to you so easily.
“Whatcha doing?” he croons lowly to you.
“Give you a hedge-hug,” you mumble into his chest.
He scoffs a faint laugh that fans across your forehead. “You’ll get in trouble,” he teases in a gentle whisper, slowly melting into your embrace. His wide hands smooth warm along your spine. He doesn’t press you anything closer with his touch, just cradles you softly against him.
“Don’t care. I just miss you.”
“Hippopota-miss me?” he jokes and noses into your hair. You smell like home, in both the figurative and literal sense of the word. Equal parts because you spent the night at his place and because your scent strikes something short of nostalgia inside his chest.
You laugh. He can feel the golden sound of it in his ribcage. “Pig time,” you answer.
“How’d you like that one, huh?” he asks, muffled against you.
“It was genius.”
“Right!” he chuckles. “Thought of it outta nowhere and had to tell someone about it.”
Your head shakes against him as a grin blossoms on your lips. He can’t see it from this angle, but he can feel it — in the way your cheek squishes harder against his sternum. “Your brain is so amusing, you know that?”
Steve, knowing that would be an insult coming from Robin, decides to take it as a compliment from you. He presses his petaled mouth to your forehead and lingers there for several moments. “Thank you,” he murmurs after.
The Robin in question turns out to be his savior, neither intentionally nor ungrudgingly.
She’s stacking VHS tapes on the shelves with Keith, both of them crouched to restock the bottom rows. She rises first, bones creaking in protest. “God, I feel like an eighty-year-old, man,” she groans and stretches her aching knees.
Back to full height again, she sees the two of you wrapped in an embrace behind the counter. She scoffs and rolls her eyes. Not because she’s jealous — she’s definitely not jealous — but because the two of you couldn’t last a whole hour not talking. It’s deplorable.
But despite her internalized complaints, she refuses to let Keith catch you fonduing a second time. Right before he stands beside her, she swipes a hand over the top row of tapes. Adventure movies titled L through M tumbled to the ground, a few of them knocking the older boy on his mulleted head.
“Ow!” he winces, nasally and whiny. He cradles the top of his deep brown, only slightly greasy hair and stares daggers at the girl above him. “What the heck was that for?”
Robin shoots him a shaking smile, freckled face blotched pink. “Sorry,” she lilts, voice trembling. “Spasm.”
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devilmademewriteit · 1 year
Note
Drabble request for dbf!joel getting blown under the table or something while he's having a convo with reader's dad?!?! IDK I just love your dbf!joel!!
You Can Be the Boss
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pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!afab!reader
warnings: rough oral (m receiving); petnames (angel, baby, sweetheart); age gap; choking; hair pulling; (yall this is pure pure daddy issues FILTH, I warned you. I warned you hard).
Hi y’all ty for sending me all ur requests. ummm you guys are insane ! and so am I ! maybe more because I’m actually the one writing these ! this one is so dirty ! don’t say I didn’t warn you !
more to come hehehe. I don’t tag ppl for my smaller drabbles / fics so turn on notifs or whatevs ;)
-em<3
“As close as I’ll get to the darkness, he tells me to, ‘Shut up, I got this.’”
- You Can Be the Boss
It was still a secret, after all.
Sneaking into his apartment, late nights in alleys, abandoned cars lining the streets of the QZ… you’d managed to keep your joint intoxication with one another under wraps.
Today… today was risky. You usually waited until the wee hours of the morning to even walk by his place, let alone enter, but you’d needed to drop off a sweater that Tess had leant you the previous week, intending to leave it folded up on the doormat before bolting down the hall. Your footsteps were nervous and heavy, which led to the door swinging wide open on its hinges, a gruff “where you runnin’ off to, Angel?” and a set of rough hands pulling you through the doorway.
Then you were spread open against the tattered table cloth of his (busy) kitchen table, underwear shoved to the side, watching a hunched over Joel Fucking Miller spit on his hand and run it up down his heavy, hard length.
“Shouldn’t come here during the day,” as he’d lined himself up, “Can’t fuckin’ help myself.”
That’s when you heard the definite sound of a key twisting inside a lock. Joel’s head shot up — your eyes barely had time to widen before he was shoving you under the table, panties still twisted around your ankles.
A quick zip, then footsteps.
“Oh, sorry man—”
Oh, fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.
“—Tess said you wouldn’t be home.”
It’s your father.
You thank God for your his poor observation skills (and the tablecloth) as Joel responds, “ah, no worries,” frustratingly non-chalant as ever.
“While you’re here though,” and your heart sinks, identifying your dad’s intention to stay, “Was wondering if we could go over the plans for our new routes. FEDRA assholes blocked off another south-east one today.”
Your blood turns to ice inside your veins as both men pull out their chairs, settling into a purely-business conversation. Joel barely hesitates, cool as ice.
Not fair that he gets to be so calm while you’re so… not.
Not fair.
If only there was a way to even out the playing field.
Crunched into yourself, you scoot closer to Joel’s calves, clinging onto his denim and doing your best to make as little noise as possible. When it’s clear, however, that your father’s far too invested in the practicalities of the conversation to suspect or inquire into or even notice anything else, your eyes wander towards the slowly softening bulge, still visible underneath Joel’s belt.
And you get an idea.
The man always tortured you, and you were well aware that what made your arrangement especially enticing — for the both of you — was the taboo-ness, the wrongness of it all.
So your pussy drips just thinking about it.
Slowly, delicately, you slide your hands up Joel’s thighs, feeling his every muscle respond, tensing, turning to stone, or jolting with electricity beneath your playful touches.
It’s hard, quietly pulling down his fly. Still, metal tooth by metal tooth, you eventually succeed, unable to hold back a smile of vindication when his cock springs up, swelling and hardening between your fingertips. Joel covers his choke with a cough.
Just as you duck down to lick a fat stripe up his cock’s dark underside, noticing how the lungs above you constrict — freezing — the conversation changes.
“You been seeing a lot of my daughter?”
Joel takes an uncharacteristically long time to grunt out a “here n’ there.”
You hold in a laugh, both at your dad’s timely question and the reaction it causes. Placing a hand at the base of him, you consider this the perfect moment to start teasing his tip with patient, innocent little kitten-licks.
“Been acting weird,” your old man continues, unphased and unassuming, “Worried she’s been gettin’ herself into trouble.”
Trouble? You’re looking at him.
Your dad’s whole “fatherly concern” (not like he’d ever shown any before) angle makes you bold. You want to make it harder for Joel to deny your father’s suspicion.
You want to make him lie through his teeth.
You part your lips, wrapping them adoringly around the entire head of his cock before gliding down, using your hand to assist you as you please every inch of him.
While he mostly manages to keep it together, his legs don’t, gently parting with desire to allow you better access.
“She-she’s a good girl, man,” Joel manages, and while his delivery borders a groan, he stays surprisingly level (your body doesn’t forget to note his praise, either, aching cunt growing wetter and wetter at his every word). “‘Bit juvenile sometimes, and reckless—” he pauses, and it’s very clear he’s not speaking to your father, “—but good—” you work every inch of him with your hands, throat, and mouth, savouring the feel of his ridges and veins, the taste of his salt on your tastebuds, “—so good.”
You freeze, scanning the room for tension as both you and Joel try to figure out if his desire-stricken tone’s given you away.
It hasn’t.
Of course it hasn’t.
Your dad continues on as if everything were normal, as if Joel’s tip wasn’t kissing the back of your throat. “Just not sure if I’m raising her right—or… or if I was much of a father at all.”
Yeah, probably not. You know, given that I’m under the table sucking your best friend’s dick.
You watch, head still slowly bobbing up and down his length, a hand carving a careful path down his leg. Joel’s fingertips breach your shoulder, his palm slowly graduates to cupping the back of your head.
And he shoves you forward, forcing every punishing inch of himself down your little, gasping throat.
“Just needs a little discipline,” your torturer responds, raising his gravelly voice to mask the definite sound of choking.
“A heavy hand.”
You huff against his abdomen. Just like that, Joel’s taken the reins of your little operation.
Like he always did. Like he always does.
“You’re probably right,” your father responds, sighing with concession. Tears begin to well in the corners of your eyes while your lungs burn for oxygen, mouth stuffed and nose pressed into Joel’s skin. He chuckles, slapping the table. “Give ‘em an inch and they take a mile, huh?”
“That’s right,” Joel responds, a soft coo, tightening his grasp in your hair and somehow forcing more of himself between your lips.
Making his point.
You hold back a whimper, nails hopelessly clawing at his jeans.
Your dad raps his knuckles against the wood, pushing his chair back to leave. Unfortunately for you, Joel doesn’t move, holding you there like a prisoner — suffocating you.
He clears his throat. “I’d walk you out, but, you know—” your eyelids grow heavy, little stars beginning to dance in your vision “—been goin’ hard recently. Wearin’ myself out.”
A huff of understanding and concurrence from the other side of the room.
Eventually, after what seems like an eternity, hinges squeak, goodbyes are uttered, and your father’s left you alone with his buddy again.
Joel’s chair scrapes back — he pulls you along with him, attached to him, out from underneath the table.
Finally, finally, he releases his grasp.
You jump off of him, strings of saliva trailing from your lips, gasping for air as if you were seconds from drowning.
You aim to collapse against his knees, but he quickly grabs you by the throat, presses his big thumb under your chin, and forces your wet, tear-lined eyes up to meet his.
They’re filled with a lust so dark, you wonder if just that look might swallow you whole.
“Prouda yourself?” He speaks, voice low.
Dangerous.
And you just smile, dazed, nodding. Nodding because you know where it’ll get you. Nodding because you just know how much it’ll entice him.
“‘Course you are,” he continues, softer, “Shoulda been honest — shoulda told your old man he raised a fuckin’ slut.”
Joel lifts you up, indelicately shoving you down on the table, right back in the position you’d originally started the visit in.
His eyes darken to black when he sees how wet you are, how fucked-out, needy, and unapologetic you are.
“And you know what, baby?” A deceiving coo as he lines himself up at your entrance, using his other hand to squeeze your jaw — tight.
You look at him with big, begging doe eyes, eyebrows already knitting together from the tantalizing contact.
“I’m really fuckin’ glad he did.”
And as Joel Miller roughly sheathes his cock inside your young, tight cunt, you find yourself agreeing with him.
MASTERLIST
TAGLIST
AO3
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slvttyplum · 10 months
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✰ suguru being a slut? a man whore? a deviant? nah
actually yes.
he’s so fucking nasty, you’re sure if you put a leash around his neck, he’ll be on all fours, purring and seductively swaying his hips.
and you fucking love it.
he wasn’t always like this: nasty, horny, sex always on his mind.
it wasn’t until you came that his dick was always rock hard.
the way you walked, the way you spoke, the way you wore your hair—everything about you was what was missing.
you were the missing piece.
it started off slow and tame, like sucking him off while driving, then him wanting to do it in public bathrooms, then him fucking you in front of a big window, then him tying you up and using you.
i can go all day, really. this man is a freak that needs to be stopped.
his hands are clung to your ass, gripping the soft flesh with his rough hands groaning.
“meow for me," he says in a soft, demanding voice. with no questions being asked and you getting fucked out of your mind, you comply.
“meowwww.”
wow that was... awkward.
it doesn’t stop there. no, no, no. this is so much bigger than him being an uncontrollable pervert.
he’s a force that can’t be reckoned with.
he records almost every time you two fuck, then gets off to it when you’re not there. you’re his cute little pornstar.
the way you’re unaware when you’re deep into lust makes his dick jump.
the way your thighs clench and legs twitch when you’re closer to climax, the way you throw your head back with drool hanging out of your mouth, the way you grip the sheets like they're running away—he loves that shit.
he analyzes what you do in those videos, seeing what you like and don’t like, what you do and don’t do, and then applies it to his fucking.
you weren’t even aware until, out of the blue, he started using new techniques that made you cum in under a minute.
he fucking loves that shit; driving you crazy is what he lives for. if he died today, his only regret would be not making you cum at least ten times in a row.
he literally has a google spread sheet of how many times you cum from what action, and makes it a goal to make you cum more than the last time.
of course, his overall goal is to make you feel good and fuck you so good you see stars and the creator himself, but who said sex couldn’t be fun?
you’re giggling, moaning, and begging; his slutty ass is a lot of fun.
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Text
“What entertainment do you bring before me today?” Squawked Augustine, the king of the birds. “Have the mockingbird players returned from their tour of the provinces? Or maybe that prattling parrot will reprise its human impressions?”
“Alas, milord.” Replied the king’s seneschal, a somewhat fussy flamingo. “You had the parrot killed for excessive repetitions and hesitations.”
“So I did!” The king spread his majestic tail feathers proudly, reliving the happy fuzz of murder. “Well, they knew the rules. Or, at least, *I* knew the rules and they probably should have inferred them.”
“One can never argue with your execution of the law.” Said the long-suffering seneschal, keenly aware that the wrong answer could result in his suffering moving from *long* to *short*. “Or with the law of your executions, for that matter…”
“Speaking of executions,” Said the king, whose mind was never truly far from state-sanctioned violence, “Do we have any on the docket for today?”
“Your majesty, I’m afraid the dungeons are quite empty.”
“What, no traitors left?”
“No, sire.”
“No criminals of any kind? No thieves or fraudsters or comedians who are overly reliant on props?”
“All thoroughly and legally murked, milord.”
“Well, I suppose send in my jester, then. I’m so dreadfully bored.”
At this command, the jester fluttered into the room, wearing a jaunty cap made out of a McDonald’s wrapper with a small lost key jangling from it in place of a bell.
The king and seneschal looked at the jester - the air was heavy with the potential for further royal atrocities. The seneschal crossed his talons.
“Coo.” Said the pigeon jester, hilariously.
A pause. A silence.
“Coo.” Said the pigeon jester again, making unblinking eye contact with the king.
The silence stretched on further. (Surely it could not keep on stretching or it would pull something…)
“Coo.” Said the pigeon jester, tragically.
And at this, the king finally burst into laughter. Uproarious, over-the-top, gut-busting laughter.
Which was just the distraction the seneschal needed. The elaborate flamingo costume was abandoned; the false wooden legs clattered to the floor and the fake neck - a painted length of hose pipe - flopped grotesquely back and forth.
From the costume burst forth a small army of truly tiny owls, which set about tying up the king while he was still prostrate from the laughter.
“What is the meaning of this?” Wailed the king.
“Coup.” Said the pigeon jester, accurately.
“Your reign of terror is at an end, vile tyrant!” Chirped an Elf Owl, puffing up its chest. “Revolution is here and your foul murderous regime will fall. In its place will rise a majestic and fair government! Vive la republic of feathers!”
“This is a conspiracy!” Cried the king.
“No,” Said the Elf Owl. “A conspiracy is ravens.”
“Owls are…” It donned a tiny pair of sunglasses. “...a Parliament.”
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agenttommykinard · 1 month
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I wanted to spread some good vibes in the fandom, so what are five cute headcanons you have about BuckTommy or Tommy? 🥰 And if you want to, send an ask like this to someone else.
OH THIS IS CUTE ty for sending this to me
1. I AM A CAT DAD TOMMY TRUTHER
so obviously he has one in the future but I'm imaging a much smaller, younger Tommy who would sneak out and feed the stray cat in his yard
who coaxed the cat to trusting him and who found the cat a home when his father wouldn't allow it
for a little while he had something soft in his life who loved him just for him
2. Tommy is the kind of guy who is aware that he's a big guy you know? he helps people get things off of the top shelf in grocery stores and volunteers to help pick up heavy things - he's the friend who actually means it when he says he would help someone move
3. one time when Tommy was really low and was just so tired about hiding things, he came across a food tuck that had a pride flag pinned proudly to its's side - all of the food was puns and it was run by three college aged kids and the owner - Tommy sat outside on a picnic table near the truck for the longest time and when he finally ordered - something sweet, this man has a sweet tooth - it was met with a smile, something bright when things were hard, and he followed this truck on instagram and when he was finally out he would bring people to the truck and he is one of their best customers and the owner has a picture of Tommy with the truck on their socials and they make food up for him on the spot - and when he brings Buck there for a date they all know who he is "THE FAMOUS EVAN" and Tommy blushes so hard
4. Tommy's clothes are comfortable and practical, he has a few "good shirts" for the occasional dates but otherwise he just picks what fits - at some point he picked up a jacket from a thriftshop and didn't even know it was designer until someone pointed it out - when Buck buys him a soft cashemere sweater for the colder weather, Tommy wears it and kisses Buck softly and he starts adding a little more color in his wardrobe, but he never feels pressure to, he just likes Buck's smile when he wears them
5. Tommy "avoid lonlieness through various hobbies" Kinard has made candles, he's taken chocolate making classes, he rock climbs when he cans and has had several ball room lessons, at some point he even tried horse back riding, he's done a little bit of everything and later he shares these various hobbies with the family he finally finds
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