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#maybe write a fic?
bonchobrick · 1 year
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Dead on Main au where Jason is of course Danny’s Fright Knight and like all knights do he has a weapon—except it’s his gun.
The batfam + justice league + everyone (except ghosts duh) don’t know that his normal average everyday gun is actually like a super powerful spiritual soul shooter that is, yaknow, capable of blasting someone into an alternate dimension where their greatest fears become real.
So imagine there’s like a big battle where a ghastly ghoul reigns terror on Gotham. The world sends their best hero’s—wizards and occultists are notably high highest in demand—to stop the ghost but, nothing works. All of the weapons and spells and chants fail.
But,
As the fights worsens and the heros scream for people to flee suddenly--
Loud squeaking footsteps echo across the ground. Jason yawns strolling into the battle zone in a ghostbusters t-shirt plaid pants bunny slippers--he strolls up in pajamas--as if annoyed at being woken up and cocks his fucking normal 'i could buy you at walmart' gun at the ghost.
His brothers screech at him yelling ”Are you insane” and to "get the hell out of here" in fear and panic because their idiot brother is trying to kill a real life ghost with a damn gun.
But then Jason shoots the ghost and it works.
The ghost fizzles down with a cry into just a little blob.
The young man then spends 30 minutes lecturing the spirit saying things like “you’re glad I’m not calling the big guy” and “you know our highness would not be happy learning what you’ve been doing” before taking out a thermos of all things and sucking the ghost into it.
Jason then sighs and walks away as if he hadn’t just defeated a hell raising ghost with a gun people can buy off a corner pawn store and a soup container.
Immediately the bat family swarms him with questions
Dick grabs him by his shoulders tense with worry, “Are you okay?”
“Um yeah—“ Jason tries to reply squirming in his hold
Damian cuts him off, “How the hell did your gun a physical weapon hurt that ghastly demonic spirit!”
“Uh that ghost is actually pretty chill you guys just pissed him off." Jason replies plain
They stare at him with a look saying 'you did not call a ghost that has been decimating gotham chill' probably because he did just that.
Tim is the first to break out of the disbelief stupor as he very inteligently says, "What?"
Jason responds easily with a confused quirk in his brow, "Second, my gun affects entities of all sorts, perks to my job and all that."
"How did being a vigilante and also probably crime boss give you a gun that could do that?" Dick asks
Jason sends him a look saying "are you an idiot" as he replies, "Yea, sure, kicking petty thieves and druggies got me my all powerful spirit weapon--No you dumbass, it's from being the bodyguard of the King of the Infinite Realms! How the hell did you guys not think of that!”
Tim breathes in, then breathes out, then breathes in again and screams, "Why the HELL WOULD WE THINK OF THAT JAY?!"
"The--" Batman, suddenly beside them, chokes, "Bodyguard of T-the what."
Jason blinks at his family then his eyes widen, "Oh shit."
"What?!" His family screech in panic
"Oh fuck," Jason says with a growing hysteric smile, "Danny's gonna have a big ol' fucking laugh with this."
"Brother who is Danny!" Damian demands for an answer
Jason coughs into his palm, "Oh yeah you guys really dont dont know. So I may have forgotten to explain some... things."
Bruce levels him with a stare that says "you think?"
Jason chuckles nervously, "So y'know how I'm half dead?"
pause
Damian very eloquently responds for the suddenly dying screaming combusting members of his family, "...sure."
"Well I met the King of the afterlife which is like the Ruler of Everything and he was really cute--" Jason says distant in his own world
"Theres a afterlife?" Superman asks casually appearing beside the emotionally wrecked family
"Yea its pretty cool. So I start flirting a bit with the guy and we hit it off, I now im his zombie ghost knight boyfriend lover for all time. Oh and i got this sickass gun." Jason says with a happy grin
"That is a pretty sick gun." John Constantine nods
"I know right?" Jason chirps
"You wouldn't mind if I inspected--" John reaches his hand
Jason slaps it away, "Not a chance you soul whore. Y'know your basically the tax evasionist of the Ghost Zone right?"
John only sighs and leaves
"But yea so I'm like the ghost world equivalent to married with the king and became his knight and thats how I was able to stop that ghost guy." Jason reiterates as if explaining a simple question, "Y'guys get that?"
Tim is on the ground trying to decide whether; sobbing hysterically, interogating jason to find out all the things he doesn't want to know or sleeping would be a better use of his time.
Dick has decided to blame himself and has started to draft a reddit post in the middle of the street starting with "I (23 m) have a younger brother (19 m), who I used to resent but really regret now, he died and came back and doesn't even tell me about what goes on in his life anymore. How do I fix our--"
Damian is just staring at the gun and... Jason pushes it deeper in his holster and shifts to the side, better to be safe than sorry with this thieving shit.
As Jason adjusts his weaponry he hears Bruce sob in the background, "He didn't even invite me to the wedding! Am I that horrible of a father!"
Wonder Woman pats his shoulder reasuringly whilst the rest of the League seem to be trying to calm him down
Jason looks around tiredly at the mess he had created and decides fuck it
"Alright I'm heading out for the night, you guys get home safe!" He yells and without caring to listen to anyone and everyone voicing their confusion he zips open a green portal and stumbles in
He crashes down on an unbelievably comfortable bed
Danny blinks blearily before sending the young man a sleepy smile, "Hey Jay, what kept you up so long?"
Jason slipping under the blankets with a yawn says, "You would not believe the night I just had."
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Edit: UMM HII The fic is out now here!! you guys are awesome I'll post the new chapter 2 in a hot sec after editting ^^
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nescaveckdaily · 22 days
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Okayz .. So quick question? I've been thinking of writing a fic for my @nescaveckwriter blog about JDM (yes Jeffrey Dean Morgan) 🥵 I might have a story line 😋 (I do have a solid one actually) .. but its gonna be aged gap and fluffy and smutty 😱... Do y'all think I should try and do it?
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@jackles010378 @k-slla @cevansbaby-dove @cutedisneygrl @bookishtheaterlover7 @winchesterwild78 @deans-spinster-witch @hobby27 @angelbabyyy99 @kazsrm67 if I forgot to tag anyone please forgive me 💕
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eridan-ampora · 7 months
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i love it when characters are codependent. i love it when losing someone feels like losing a limb. i love it when two people "complete" each other so wholly and terribly that one can barely function without the other. i love it when the fear of losing the only person who understands them is so all-consuming they'll destroy anything to stay together, including themselves.
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lazylittledragon · 1 month
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if i had a nickel for every au spawned from twitter that i SWORE i was going to be normal about
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stoopidstapler · 9 months
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SO IVE BEEN GOIN INSANE SINCE THIS TRAILER DROPPED. JUST. SIMON. SIMON. SIMON.
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plumadesatada · 1 year
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just remembered a fic on AO3 (or more likely LJ because it had that distinct late 00's experimental vibe) that appeared double-spaced oddly, in that some paragraphs would be spaced normally and others would have double or even triple spaces in between. it was about one half of the otp getting over the other's death (or coma, can't remember which), so all the comments were about how poignant the use of visual spacing was as a means to convey all the emotional holes in the character's life.
and then the author replied like... *giggle* guys it's NOT double spaced. try selecting the whole text
and we were all like "no WAY"
but we selected the text, and yes!!!
the "holes" in the story? they were actually lines and actions from the dead/coma character's ghost, rendered invisible to the eye by the simple trick of coloring the text the exact same as the background, revealed by nothing more than a click and a drag of the mouse
a story about the profound loneliness of losing your the partner of your life and having to make do without them, without anything to fill the holes they'd left behind, suddenly became a story about the profound helplessness of seeing someone you love suffer from your absence while you are right there, unable to do anything about it, unable to communicate that you love them enough to suffer unseen and unheard with them, just to keep them company they'll never know about
it was then that I truly realized how *superior* the digital medium is to plain printed paper, how the medium and the format can add to a story.
I think about that fic about once a year. I wish I could find it again
EDIT: FOUND IT!!!! UPDATE HERE
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payasita · 6 months
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two-step
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sp0o0kylights · 2 months
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"Valentines Day is a capitalistic scam made to sell chocolate and flowers!" Eddie Munson bellowed, leaping to the top of a cafeteria table not even ten minutes into lunch. 
"Do you think he was born like this, or just dropped on his head as a baby?" Heather asked, rolling her eyes as the super senior began waving his arms around, getting way too into  his annual “anti-valentines day” rant. 
Steve, who'd tuned out the dramatics in favor of trying to figure out how he could ditch school, only heard her because she’d begun running her foot up his leg.
Directly in front of Patrick.
As if half the school didn’t know he planned on asking her out after school. 
Long over being a part of these kinds of games, Steve kicked out, forcing Heather’s leg off his. 
He did it harder than he intended and immediately winced, as  if he hadn’t meant to do it at all. Aimed a sad little look at her, softening his eyes in the way he knew ladies loved while murmuring a quiet "sorry.” 
A pudding cup was offered as an additional apology--which Heather, thankfully, accepted. 
Crisis averted, Steve used the movement of handing the cup over to get his legs well out of Heather's range. He had other things to think about today, and getting drawn into whatever drama Heather was trying to brew wasn’t on the list. 
Particularly given the basketball team as a unit had started snubbing him out. 
"Newsflash ladies! Your man isn't taking you to some shitty restaurant because he loves you, he's doing it because he hopes you'll give it to him in your car!" Munson continued, voice growing impossibly louder. 
A crude gesture followed, involving hip thrusts and hand jabs.
 Several of the cheerleaders shot him disgusted looks as he did it. 
"Definitely dropped on his head." Carol said, glaring at Munson as his little group of freaks and geeks cheered him. "More than once." 
Steve hummed an agreement, more on automatic than from actually listening. He knew how to look like he was paying attention, even if his head was deep in possible escape plans. 
If he dipped at the last minute to the bathroom on the way to fifth period, Tommy wouldn't have time to stop him and he could make a break for his car…
That just left making up a plausible enough excuse as to why thee Steve Harrington, whose single status was the current hot topic of the school, left school early on Valentines Day. 
("Candy, sex, the overwhelming affection of all the ladies." Tommy drawled out that morning, practically preening. "Valentine's Day is the best holiday man. Just look at all this!"  
He waved a hand at his locker, which was absolutely covered in paper hearts. 
"The rally squad put hearts on the lockers of everyone on the basketball team, Tommy." Carol argued, rolling her eyes. "Steve’s is practically buried in them.”
Tommy opened his mouth to respond, no doubt with something else teasing and rude, but Carol’s elbow caught him in the gut first. 
“If you keep acting like this you're not getting any sex." She warned. 
"Aww baby, don't be like that. You know you're the only one for me." Tommy teased, with a wink that prompted Carol to smack him on the shoulder.
Laughing, he added: "Besides we can't fight or we'll miss our favorite game. Which poor gal thinks this year is the year Steve will take her out on a date!"
Carol allowed Tommy to put an arm over her shoulder, the two of them turning knowing grins on their friend as a singular unit. 
Even if Steve hadn’t felt like their friend in a hot minute. 
Not in the way he used to. 
"I do love watching them stutter through their little confessions.” Carol admitted, like this wasn’t something they’d loved doing since middle school. “I wonder if anyone will ever top Cindy Komer." 
Steve almost wasn't fast enough to cover his wince--that particular incident had been painful for him and Cindy. 
Steve still had no idea what he'd said to make the then-freshman cry. 
He thought he'd been nice about turning her down, but judging by Carol constantly quoting what he'd said, Steve had a feeling he'd accidentally been an asshole again.
Not that anyone ever thought it was accidental. 
“Steve? Hel~lo? Are you listening?” Carol said, snapping to get his attention and God did Steve hate that.
Never realized just how much until Nancy but after she’d pointed out that Carol treated him and Tommy both like her dogs, well. 
It was hard not to notice--and be a bit resentful. 
“God you keep doing this, you’re turning into such a space case.” Carol continued, the edge back in her voice. The same one she’d been using for a while, like Steve was on her last nerve. “Please tell me you’re not still mooning over Nancy fucking Wheeler.” 
“No.” He snapped, only to know instantly that was the wrong move, and try to fix it before Carol blew up. “No--I’ve just already had to fend someone off today. Like first thing--I was barely out of my car.”
There, that should keep Carol and Tommy both off his back for being “angry” and it wasn’t even a lie. He really had been asked out earlier, though the girl had been gracious about his rejection.  
Of course, this kind of instant redirection came with a price--and in this case, it was being absolutely hounded for more information. 
“Oh shit who!? Was it that Buckley girl?” Carol perked up immediately, like a hunting dog scenting prey. “I swear she stares holes in your head, she’s so weird…” )  
"This isn't about romance! It's about showing who has the most cash, gets the most sex! It's a pathetic social ritual you're all falling for!” Munson yelled, jolting Steve back into the present.  “I bet none of you even enjoy it!” 
"Tell that to all the girls Steve’s dated!” One of the younger basketball guys hollered, prompting a wave of laughter from the rest of the cafeteria. “They seem to enjoy it plenty!”
Steve couldn’t see who had said it, and should have felt the normal wave of smug warmth that the team had his back.  
Except his team had already proven they didn’t. 
Were in fact, siding more and more with Hargrove, just as Tommy was. 
They were rapidly approaching a watershed moment. Steve could feel it, the same way he’d always been able to tell when a crowd was about to turn.
He was losing, but was still on top of Hawkins social spaces enough, had caught it early enough, that he could turn everyone’s favor--if he wanted. 
Emphasis on ‘if.’ 
Munson spun to face his table, hair whipping to smack him in the face. The guy had clearly been trying to grow it out, but right now he looked like one of those poodles Carol's mom loved so much. 
So said Carol, anyway. 
"You sure about that?" Munson challenged, a crazed grin breaking across his face. "Rumor has it King Steve lost his groove ever since Wheeler dumped him!" 
Steve grimaced, though he was secretly thankful Munson went with "dumped" instead of "cheated on" (or any of the other vile words Billy had flung around, spreading across the school in the sick, crawling way rumors moved. 
Hargrove had been positively brutal about the whole Jonathan and Nancy thing, and the only reason he wasn't here now to spin this whole situation against Steve was because the guy always vanished at lunch.)
Tommy's face morphed into an affronted snarl, hands slapping down on the table. He turned expectantly to Steve, waiting for "The King" to get up and "handle" Munson.
Like Steve even cared about this dumb high school shit anymore. 
It took him a moment to realize Steve wasn’t planning on doing anything. Was in fact, going to remain perfectly quiet, other than an eyeroll and half-assed middle finger in Munson’s direction. 
Tommy let out a disgusted scoff in his direction and then decided to handle things himself. 
(Like that had ever been a good idea.)
“Shut up, Freak. The only game you have is in the prison showers.” He snapped, half rising from the table. “Isn’t that why you keep your hair long? So all the boys will actually fuck you?!” 
Whistles and yells lit the air, though Steve didn’t miss how the girls at the table looked taken aback at the sheer vitriol in Tommy’s voice. 
Even Carol looked startled, eyes sliding to meet Steve’s as if to confirm she hadn’t just imagined it. 
The three of them had always been good at this kind of mindless high school banter, but this over the top, crude shit? 
It wasn’t Tommy’s style.
It was Hargrove’s.
(That was its own growing issue. 
The way Tommy was gravitating towards Billy. 
How Carol kept expecting Steve to act like he used to. 
That she blamed his “outbursts” on Nancy, snidely mentioning that Steve had better have learned his lesson about “changing his personality for pussy.” 
Even now Steve knew they were only defending him because Munson was the one saying it.) 
“I didn’t realize Harrington still had his attack dog!” 
Munson put a hand against his heart as though injured, staggering dramatically backwards. 
“I thought you were too busy putting your tongue up Hargrove’s ass to bark at people!” 
Tommy immediately fired back, letting loose an uninspired string of curse words and something about Eddie being queer again. Steve didn’t hear the specifics--didn’t care to hear it, even as things started to spiral out of control. 
All he wanted to do was go home. 
Ideally before Billy got back from lunch and decided to make a spectacle himself, because Steve could feel that coming just as he could everything else. 
He was running out of time to come up with an excuse to get out of here without making a production out of it, and Munson wasn’t someone he wanted to piss off today, given he’d half hoped to buy weed off the guy before he ditched.
…Which was looking more and more unlikely given Tommy had just screeched some insult that had put Munson’s sights back on Steve. 
“You sure? Cause Harrington looks like he’s just gonna sit there and take it, just like he takes everything Hargrove and Wheeler and anyone else throws at him.”
He leered, leaning forward as if to see into Steve’s very soul. 
“I don’t know if anyone else has noticed, but our beloved King here hasn’t exactly been defending his crown. If anything, he’s abandoned it.” 
The world stopped. 
This was the first time someone actually called him out on the fact that he often let whatever crap Billy spewed go. That Nancy and him had a few awkward encounters publicly, with at least one of them starting a rumor that she’d told Steve to fuck off. 
(She hadn’t of course, but Carol had stopped running damage control, and Steve was feeling the effects of her ire.) 
Silence echoed, and Steve realized with a dawning sort of horror, that Munson was waiting for a response from him. 
Just as the entire cafeteria was. 
The catalyst was here, brought on early by one Edward Munson. 
With a startling amount of clarity, Steve realized he was done. 
With his so called friends, with  the girls who’d tried corning him all morning, with Hargrove and just--everything. 
He was over it. 
If Billy wanted the crown so bad he could fucking have it. 
(If Tommy wanted to pretend he was tougher than he was by mimicking the dick, then he could have that too.) 
“This is stupid.” Steve announced, dropping the masks he so carefully wore. The ones he kept having to fix, because the Upside Down and its related demons (human and non) kept taking chunks out of it. 
He stood, feeling the weight of the room press down on him as he faced them all down. 
“Yeah--!” Tommy started to pile on, seeming to think Steve was about to unleash hell, and got the surprise of a lifetime when Steve turned and jammed a finger in his face.
“Shut up.” He snapped. 
Knew instantly he only got away with it by the fact that he’d caught everyone off guard.  
King Steve did a lot of things, but he rarely blew up. 
“This is stupid.” He reiterated, voice booming across the lunch room, “ You wanna fight? Fine, but leave me out of it.”  
“The King doesn’t want to play? Why I never thought we’d see the day!” Munson clucked his tongue, and without missing a beat Steve turned to him. 
 “For someone who is always screaming about nonconformity, you sure are happy to attack anyone who doesn’t do what you want.”
Steve’s voice was loud, but he wasn’t screaming. Wasn’t yelling or throwing his arms around.
He didn’t need to. Had never needed to. 
“I heard you going off on that guy whose lunch you're standing on yesterday, because he wanted to watch the Colts play.” Steve continued, voice cold. “Half of your friends are terrified of you, because you’ll scream at them just like you accuse us of doing--and let’s be real here, Munson, you do it more.”
In a dramatic move that absolutely, 100% came from Dustin and his theatrics, Steve shrugged his letterman jacket off and bunched it into a ball. 
“You might as well crown yourself King, because you’re the exact same as the rest of us. Here--you can start with this.”  
Cocking back an arm, Steve let the jacket fly. Watched with everyone else as it  landed neatly right at Eddie’s feet. 
Shell shocked, Munson’s eyes drifted from Steve down to the letterman jacket and back. They were massive, those stupid eyes of his, but at least it meant Steve could see the realization wash over the guy in real time. 
Steve should have felt smug about it. His past self would have.
Presently? 
He just felt tired. 
“You’re welcome to jam it up your ass.” He finished, before giving his own sarcastic half bow to the room.  
The cafeteria was dead silent. Not a fork was scraped, or a loud piece of chip chewed. All eyes were on Steve, some waiting to see if Eddie would let him have the last word, others just  shocked to see Steve lose his shit in front of them. 
Idiot he was, he tried to rally anyway. 
Even Tommy, who’d partly stood up, hands pressed against the lunch table looked shocked.
“What the fuck Steve!?” He sputtered, and it wasn’t long before half the basketball team was muttering similar remarks. 
They were ignored. 
Whispers ripped across the room when Steve turned on his heel, striding towards the exit and making it clear things were over, but Tommy didn’t give up. 
“Fuck you Harrington!” He hurled at his back, Carol now standing and placing a restraining hand on his arm.  “You’re not fucking better than any of us!” 
Steve didn’t even look back. 
"That's my point Tommy." Steve said, loud enough to be heard. "No one is better than anyone else. You lot are all just buying into your own bullshit.” 
Then he was slamming through the doors, and out into the sunlight. 
xXx
He didn’t want to go home.
Not anymore, which was ironic in a way that made Steve’s face screw up in a grimace.  
Here he’d been dying to go to his stupid house all day, and now, after losing his shit and undoubtedly, the last of his social standing, he just didn’t feel like being by himself.
All alone, in a house too big for him, full of nothing but dark corners and a phone that never rang. 
So instead, he wandered, reminiscing on how Valentine's Day used to be his favorite day of the year. 
Steve loved the gesture of it all--the romance, the wooing. The butterflies floating in one's stomach, mixing with fear of rejection and a burning kind of hope towards starting something new. 
Of course, Steve also had always had a girl in mind, when he celebrated. Now, after Nancy…
He did not.
It felt weird to go to Skull Rock--the place he himself had made into Hawkins hottest makeout spots. Likewise all the local restaurants were off limits--too many adults knew how much he loved the holiday. 
Steve didn’t want to face that. The expectations, the knowing winks that would slide into uncomfortable frowns. Any possible advice given wouldn’t be appreciated, and the last thing Steve wanted was to get the “everyone has an off season, son” speech. 
So he’d stayed away from his usual haunts. Explored some storefronts instead, the Beamer parked in front of Family Video as he wandered. 
Had an entirely too peaceful two hours, which of course, meant he had to bump into someone.
At least, Steve thought dully, whole body tensing in preparation, it was Munson. 
Not Hargrove, or Tommy, or hell--the children, demanding he help them fight some other fucked up creature the government had accidentally summoned. 
“Hey Harrington.” Munson said, and it took a moment for Steve to realize the guy was embarrassed. “I uh, I need to talk to you.” 
Steve just stared at him.
“If you couldn’t tell from earlier,” He warned, “I’m a little done talking for today.” 
Or any day, for the foreseeable future. 
“Yeah no--I, I got that.  I--okay.” Eddie stopped rocking on his heels, before giving his entire body a shake, like the guys sometimes did while prepping for a game. “Hear me out, and then you can deck me or leave or whatever makes you feel better.” 
“I’m not going to deck you.” Steve said, exasperated and frazzled and not wanting to do this whole song and dance a second time. 
Not that it mattered, because Munson had already launched right into whatever it was he needed to say. 
“There’s this book right? My Uncle got it for me. It’s a fantasy book all about this big battle and there’s these wizards in it, and--” He stopped himself, shaking out his hands.
Like he realized he was rambling and needed the movement to get himself back on track. 
“I always--I guess I saw myself as a Gandalf kinda guy? Like I was this shepherd herding these lost sheep. A person who intimately knew all the dark forces of the world and could be a shield for them. Do not pass and all that.” 
He chuckled, but it was weak, and he killed it almost immediately. 
“...Okay?” Steve said, knowing he was supposed to say something here, even if he had no idea what. 
Maybe something about how Gandalf the Grey wasn’t exactly a shepard given he’d led the hobbits straight into Mordor, but saying that meant admitting Steve knew what Lord of the Rings was, which wasn’t a conversation he felt like getting into. 
Particularly not because he’d only read the damn things after losing a bet to Dustin and Mike both. 
Munson nodded, as if acknowledgement was all he needed. 
 “I thought that’s what I was doing. I wasn’t and I didn’t realize I wasn’t until you pointed it out. You shouldn’t have had to point it out. You shouldn’t have had to say any of what you did.” He rushed to add, oddly sincere. 
"Is this…" Steve might be confused but catching on, an uptick at the corners of his mouth as the tiniest spark of amusement leaked through. "an apology? Are you trying to apologize right now?"
Eddie groaned, flinging his head back. "No!” 
Then immediately; 
“Actually yes, but--”  
Which caught Steve off guard enough that he laughed, and had to hide it with a cough. 
“I am sorry, man. I shouldn’t have said that shit about you, especially not about you and Wheeler. It's more than that though.” Munson swallowed, before squaring his shoulders. “It’s that you were right." 
“I was right?” Steve repeated dumbly, because fuck, he couldn’t believe it either. 
Not that Munson heard him. Eddie always had been hard to stop once he started, and Steve had been in enough classes with the guy to know the train had left the station. 
"I did yell at Jeff because he wanted to watch that stupid football game.” He began, and Steve got a front row seat to watch as one Eddie Munson word vomited his way through a myriad of emotions. 
“I fuckin’ lost it on Grant because he missed band practice to drive his sister to some thing. Gareth looked like I was going to hit him when I asked if I had really been that bad--same exact look he gave Hagan and those other assholes that cornered him in the bathroom two weeks ago!” 
“Tommy did what?” 
Steve was promptly ignored. 
(Or more likely, Eddie simply didn’t hear him, too lost in his own voice to realize Steve had said something.) 
There were a lot of mentions of the Gandalf guy. Where Eddie thought he’d gone wrong, and even something about a glowing eye thing that had Steve a little concerned until he realized Munson was talking about Sauron (and also made Steve realize that he’d been pronouncing Sauron in his head wrong, oops.) 
“I called up this friend of mine who graduated. She’s always been no nonsense, so I asked her for her advice.” Munson said, finally seeming to slow down a little. “She told me I might as well eat my own doctrine because I sure wasn’t living by it, and that if I wanted to fix it then I should start by apologizing. To everyone but--to you, first.” 
Eddie took a step back, winging out his hands as if to present himself. 
“So here I am. Apologizing.” 
A pause wherein neither of them did a thing, which caused him to awkwardly add; “To uh, you. Harrington.” 
“Yeah I got that.” Steve said, because what else was he supposed to do here? “Good for you? I guess?”
“Most people either forgive a guy or tell him to fuck off.”  Munson pouted, and mimicked like he was kicking at a rock. 
It made Steve want to laugh again, though he shoved the urge down. 
“Someone once told me,” He said instead, speaking slowly to make damn sure he didn’t let slip this piece of advice came from a middle schooler. “that apologies without actions don’t really mean anything. They’re a start--they let people know you’re aware you screwed up, but no one’s going to trust you if you don’t follow through. So I can forgive you, but I think you’re better off doing this with one of your friends.” 
Someone who would hug it out, or at least tell Eddie how he could be better, at least. 
Rather than argue, Munson just titled his head back, eyes to the sky. Like he was really thinking on the words, before giving a sort of accepting sounding noise.  
“Trying too.” Steve admitted with a sigh. 
“That’s what you’ve been doing, isn’t it?” He asked, head coming back down so he could stare at Steve.
“The thing in the cafeteria was a good start.” 
“Yeah?” 
Eddie grinned. 
“Yeah. Don’t think Hagan’s gonna see it the same way though.” 
“We were falling out anyway.” Steve admitted, and hated how easy it was to say.
That they really were just going through the motions of friendship. Had been, ever since Jonathan had punched Steve in the face. 
“Think you lost more than just him as a friend, to be honest.”  
“Pro tip about the actions thing, Munson?” Steve said with a snort, once again unsure of where this conversation was going, “Nice people don’t typically point out when someone’s turned into a social pariah.” 
“No, I get that. Say,” Eddie’s grin had grown, which Steve would have taken poorly except he invaded Steve’s space with a goofy little hop. “I think you might be in need of some new ones!” 
“New…friends?” Steve hesitated, very unsure of what was happening. 
Munson promptly stuck his hand out. “Yup! So--hello, my name is Eddie Munson, and I am here to apply for the position as your friend!” 
Steve snorted, but the harshness of it was taken away by the grin on his face. 
He took Eddie’s hand, noting how doing so made the older teen’s smile widen. 
“Nice to meet you Eddie, I’m Steve.” 
Excited, Eddie waived their arms up and down, with far more enthusiasm than the gesture required. 
“How about we cement our new friendship by renting a truly terrible horror movie and drowning our woes with my other good friend, Mary Jane?” 
Then he waggled his eyebrows, like that was something scandalous. 
“Tempting me along with weed, huh?” Steve mused back, sticking his hands in his pockets once Eddie let him go. “Guess you’re a little like Gandalf the Gray after all. Just don’t send me on any missions.” 
“Steve Harrington.” Eddie gaped, pure delight spreading across his face. “Have you read Lord of the Rings!?” 
He got a shrug and a sly; “Maybe.” in response. 
It was worth the barrage of questions, even if the rapid fire pace of them nearly gave Steve a headache.
(Just as it was worth it several months later, when Steve was comfortable enough to instigate wrestling matches with Eddie over the dumbest of things. 
One particularly semi-drunk tussle over the remote led to an interesting discovery when Eddie popped a boner, and then frantically tried to escape when it brushed against Steve’s leg. 
 Instead of panicking--or letting Eddie bolt in his panic, Steve just dropped his whole weight down, effectively pinning the slimmer man to the floor. 
“Steve.”
Eddie said it so quietly he almost didn’t hear it, the word filled with desperation.
The kind of tone someone whispered a prayer in, a sort of pleading that Eddie did better with his eyes than his voice. Or would have, given his own were firmly scrunched closed the second he realized he’d been caught out. 
Except--
“Not right now I’m thinking.”  Steve told him absently. 
Which he was. Speed thinking even, if that was a thing. 
Because if two plus two equaled four (which it did) then feeling the exact same, fluttering excitement about Eddie’s boner as Steve had Nancy’s breasts, equaled…
“The fuck? Steve--”
Steve shushed him. 
That pulled a frustrated, embarrassed groan from Eddie that went directly to Steve’s own dick, not that it needed much help waking up. 
“I think I’m having one of those crisis’s Robin is always accusing the basketball team of having.” Steve informed Eddie dutifully, the dots done connecting.
Eddie, still refusing to open his eyes, snorted. 
“Whatever man. Can you at least be decent and hurry up with the beating? This is embarrassing enough.” 
“I’m not going to beat you up.” Steve said, thankful that his brain managed not to add some shitty comment about the entire town being awash in rumors of Eddie’s sexuality. That he’d confirmed it here wasn’t exactly a surprise. 
“I’m going to try something. If you don’t like it, let me know.” Streve added, before screwing up his courage and leaning down.
That of course, got Eddie to open his eyes.
“Wha--” He managed, before Steve’s lips were on his. 
For one single, blissful moment, Eddie Munson’s mouth was too busy to talk. 
“Yeah?” Eddie said, voice wrecked, and oh, Steve liked that. 
“Huh.” Steve muttered, when they broke for air. “Well that’s new.”
Liked the way Eddie looked at him more, hesitant, but with heat in his gaze. 
Steve had always been good about knowing what to do with heat. 
He leaned back down, pecking lightly at Eddie’s lips, and was delighted to find Eddie not only let him, but kissed back. 
“Not bad, Munson, but I think I could give you a few pointers.” Steve muttered, nose ghosting alongside Eddie’s. “Let me show you…” 
One boyfriend, several weeks, and another interdimensional monster later, Steve found himself socked in the arm by none other than his coworker, Robin Buckley. 
In her defense, she’d confessed her love for Tammy Thompson, still somewhat drugged on the Starcourt bathroom floor, only for Steve to tease her that at least his boyfriend could actually sing. 
“God you and Eddie Munson.” She muttered after, smile on her face. “How did that happen?” 
Steve knocked his shoe into hers, returning the grin unabashedly. 
“So remember last Valentines Day?” Steve started, all too eager to finally tell someone who understood about the best thing to ever happen to him. 
Robin of course, would soon also be ranked in that same chart, but Eddie didn’t need to know that. ) 
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finntheehumaneater · 3 months
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Eddie shouldn’t be laughing. He shouldn’t be laughing, but he was, still holding the phone even though the dial tone was ringing. And the woman from the school had hung up minutes ago.
He shouldn’t be laughing because marriage was a serious thing that he had given so much thought to, wanted it so badly with Steve, and apparently Steve had decided that they were already married.
He put the phone back on the holder and ran a hand down his face, trying to catch his breath, replaying the conversation over and over and over in his head because—because God, this was the best thing that had happened to him in a while.
“Hello? This is Eddie Munson.”
“Yes, hi, I’m calling about your husband? Steve Harrington.”
He paused, his eyebrows furrowing. “My husband?”
“Yes, Mr. Steve Harrington? He works here as a history teacher?”
Okay. Well. That was weird. “Yeah, what about?”
“I’m just calling for confirmation on whether or not he’ll be at the Parent’s Night tonight? He mentioned some scheduling conflict a few days ago and I wanted to check in and make sure he could come in?”
“Yeah, he should be there. I’d go and get him for you but he’s asleep.”
He quickly made his way over to their shared bedroom, flopping down onto the bed next to Steve, his hands on Steve’s face in an instant and squeezing lightly to wake him up. “Stevie. Baby.”
Steve squinted, pushing himself up onto his elbows and rubbing his eyes. 
“Steve,” Eddie whispered, trying to look serious and bite back his smile. “Did you tell the receptionist at the school that we were married?”
Steve’s eyebrows furrowed, before his eyes widened and he groaned, dropping his face onto the pillow, his voice muffled. “I hate you.”
“What did I do?” Eddie laughed, brushing a hand through Steve’s hair.
“You—she was teasing me for not like…tying things down, and—and I panicked and said I already had,” he whined, shaking his head and pressing it further into the pillow.
“Do you want to get married?” Eddie asked, his voice more gentle.
Steve looked up, his face flushed. “I mean…yeah, I do. Please tell me this isn’t you proposing.
Eddie opened his mouth to speak, but Steve pressed his hand to it and Eddie had to grab onto to Steve’s arm to stop himself from falling over. “Shut up.”
“Mm—“
“No, no, I am not letting you propose to me while we’re in bed, Eddie.”
Eddie huffed against Steve’s hand, licking it so that Steve let go with a frown. “Ew.”
“You love it.”
“Don’t lie to yourself, sweetheart.”
“Rejecting me and stealing my pet names, huh?”
Steve rolled his eyes, laying back down in bed, and pulling the blanket up to his shoulders. “I didn’t reject you because you never asked me to marry you.”
“I was going to, but then—“
“Eds?” Steve interrupted, tugging Eddie down into bed. “Be quiet.”
Eddie hated how quickly he shut up, his arms around Steve’s waist, just breathing into Steve’s hair like it was the only thing he ever wanted to do. Gods, he was going to marry the fuck out of this man.
And it was going to be the best proposal the world had ever seen.
(Goes along with this post. Someone send me asks about them I want to talk about the husbands.)
(Domestic Steddie AU MasterList)
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1-marigold-1 · 3 months
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When your best friend is a bilblically accurate angel
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They are all in the same situation guys (Yes I headcannon Pix as a watcher, since the Empires x Hermitcraft crossover hghgh)
They are three stages of one expierience
Mumbo: confused, shocked, kinda uncomfortable when around Grian in his full form, starts getting used to it
Impulse: Used to it
Sloy: Literally. Doesn't care. "You're a watcher? Cool."
Also this meme
That's the vibes I get from them
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Ngl "My best friend is a biblically accurate angel" sounds like a good movie/book title
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shibaraki · 8 months
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please write your reader insert however you want to. unabashedly!! write fat reader. black reader. asexual. masculine. tall. trans. disabled. you’re allowed to see yourself reflected in these spaces!!! sometimes your fic won’t be for everyone—it will be for all the people who look, think, love and experience life the way you do and that’s ok! it’s wonderful, actually.
it is not your job to make sure the shoe comfortably fits every single person out there. your only job is to tag it, and if anyone tells you otherwise I’ll personally come out swinging lol
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mrghostrat · 3 months
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Though he’d promised Aziraphale his attention, his head was turned towards a screen on his right, and the angle of his camera suggested the phone was tucked at the base of his keyboard and monitor. Aziraphale was actually grateful for it; Crowley’s momentary distractedness gave him the time to recover from the sight of him dressed up so professionally. “I, er— yes. I need your help though.” Crowley turned to him suddenly, leaning in close and grinning like a shared secret. Big Name Feelings • 3. Speeding Up
i am so at peace. 5 hrs totally zenned out on these colours. i'm gonna see his face in my dreams 🥰
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rafeandonlyrafe · 6 months
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kinktober: innocence/corruption
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words: 3.8k
warnings: 18+ only!, smut, virgin reader, unprotected sex, m and f receiving oral and handjob, daddy kink, lots of pet names including kitten/good girl/princess/baby, corruption kink from rafe but hes still very sweet, one instance of pussy slapping lol, mild degradation, use of slut
taglist: @drewstarkeysbae @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @slut4drudy @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana
“i bet you’re so wet right now.” rafe whispers, sending a shiver down your spine.
“i’m not.” you pout, not even fully understanding what he’s saying, mind still fuzzy from the intense kiss he just gave you.
“liar.” rafe smirks, hands still placed on your waist from when he pulled you onto his lap and flush against his body.
“i’m not a liar!” you shake your head, eyebrows furrowing as rafe just lets out a chuckle.
“you are.” rafe says, leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss against your lips, and even though it only lasts seconds, your head begins to feel dizzy again and you lean forward, seeking out more.
“little slut.” rafe whispers as your forehead presses against his shoulder, unable to keep your eyes on his as your chest presses into his. “i can feel your nipples getting hard.” you sit up suddenly, feeling your face get hot as your cheeks blush. you over your breasts with your hands. “they are not.” “move your hands then.” rafe commands, but you press them harder against your chest, willing your nipples to settle down, but when rafe reaches up and rips your hands away, you know he can easily see the hard buds poking out from under the fabric of your shirt.
“i knew it. liar.” rafe cups your breasts, keeping his hands to the outside of them, manipulating them beneath your shirt as the toys with how they sit on your chest.
you should tell him to stop, but you can’t get the words out. rafes thumb suddenly swipes over your nipple and you jump up off his lap.
“now you’re definitely wet.” rafe says, eyes on your pussy that is now level with his face.
“no, i’m not!” you say again, even as you feel something unfamiliar stirring in your stomach. “you’re being a bad boyfriend right now!”
“the only thing that would make me a bad boyfriend, sweetheart, is if i didn’t take care of my girls pussy when it got wet for me.”
“it’s not wet!” you whine, cutting rafe off before he can say something, “and don’t call me a liar again!” rafe closes his mouth in a hum, eyes coming to meet your face. “then show me.” “what?” you question, glancing down your body.
“if you’re not wet, show me your pussy. let me see.” rafe is staring up at you expectantly, and the flame burning inside of you speaks before the logical part of your brain can. 
you humph and pull your shorts down your legs, leaving you bare. rafes eyes widen, expecting a second layer underneath.
“open up, kitten.” rafe taps your thigh, and you spread your tightly clenched thighs just slightly, revealing a mess of sticky wetness. rafe smiles up at you, and you want to cry out of shame and embarrassment, but mostly for lying to your boyfriend about not being sopping wet.
“there. you’ve seen. i’m a liar, now let me put my shorts back o- ahhh!” you let out a scream as rafes hands land on your hips, pulling you closer to the couch he’s sat at as his lips attack to your clit, forcing his head between your legs as they part so you don’t lose your balance. 
“rafe!” you scream, reaching over him and holding onto the back of the couch as he tongue pokes out of his mouth, licking up the wetness you claimed wasn’t there.
you let out a series of moans as he focuses directly on your clit, bringing you a type of pleasure you’ve never felt before. you know in that moment that there’s no going back, no going back to the innocence you once possessed as you reach a hand to the back of his head, pressing his face further into your cunt.
“admit it.” rafe mumbles against your pussy, only pulling away slightly to speak, letting you feel the vibrations of his voice. “admit that me kissing you made you this wet.” “f-fine.” you cry out as his lips wrap around your clit, giving it a suck that makes you see stars. “fine! yes! you got me all wet.”
“you lied.” rafe pulls away fully, and you try to push his head back between your legs, but he won’t let you. “you lied to your boyfriend. i thought you said we would always tell each other the truth.”
you didn’t trust rafe when he first asked you out. you were new to the outer banks and came from a very sheltered life, so when you finally agreed to be his girlfriend, you made sure some rules were put into place. you didn’t even think to include anything about sex, you’ve never experienced it before.
“i’m sorry.” you pout, the shame about the lie now mixing in with how dirty you feel.
“i’ll forgive you, baby.” rafe tugs you down onto his lap, depositing you on his knee so you’re now face to face. “i’ll forgive you if you’re very good for me tonight and do everything i say.” “okay.” you whisper, not wanting rafe to be mad at you. you blink back the tears that have welled up in your eyes, you cunt clenching around nothing as you wish for his mouth back on you again, back delivering the world-changing pleasure.
“good kitten.” rafe says, cupping your cheek and bringing you in for a soft kiss, but you don’t want soft now that he’s shown you so much more. you deepen the kiss, opening your mouth slightly for rafes tongue, granting him permission as your own tongue tangles with his.
you lean forward to get a better angle, but also end up pressing your cunt into his thigh. you moan into his mouth, rocking forward against his jeans, no doubt leaving a large wet spot as you continue to move.
you don’t even realize that rafe has stopped kissing you, sitting back to watch you get yourself off on his leg. you place your hands on his chest, pushing your clit directly into the muscle.
rafe gives his leg a sudden bounce, making your legs widen. you cry out, eyes closing as you grind down.
rafes hands land on your hips, and you hope he’s going to help, but instead he forces you to stop, shifting you so you’re not lined up anymore. “no, rafe, stop-” you whine, opening your eyes to see his stern expression greeting yours.
“dirty sluts get themselves off like this. i thought you were my good kitten, not a dirty slut.” rafe says, making you almost cower at the harshness in his tone.
“i am good.” you pout, sticking out your bottom lip, and rafe can’t hold back the urge to lean forward and bite it, tugging you back into a ravishing kiss, only pulling away when you’re both out of breath.
“good girls also don’t lose their virginity on a couch. let me take you up to bed, princess.” you just nod, standing up off rafes lap, who only lets you stand for a moment until he’s up, sweeping you into his arms.
“wh-what do good girls do when losing their virginity?” you whisper as he climbs the stairs, feeling your face redden again.
“good girls do as their boyfriends say. and you’re gonna do so good honey, no reason to be nervous.” rafe kisses your cheek as he sets you down on his lush bed, closing the door behind him, hoping that will make you feel a bit more comfortable despite being completely alone in the house.
rafe stands next to the bed as he tips your head up, giving you a sweet kiss that has your nerves fluttering away. he smiles down at you, a wickedness shining through, not able to be fully concealed. 
“can you…” you mumble, and then stop, remembering that you’re supposed to listen to your boyfriend, not tell him to do things.
“it’s okay, baby, ask.” rafe asks, giving you the permission you needed to speak.
“can you take your shirt off?” you ask, surprised at your ability to keep eye contact while asking, remembering the time you went out on his boat and rafe took his shirt off, and you were unable to take your eyes off of him.
rafe doesn’t respond with words, instead pulling the tshirt off over his head and tossing it away. he takes your hand in his, placing it on his bare chest, giving you permission to touch.
you glide your hand over his smooth skin, admiring the way his muscles stand out. you move lower, eyes following your fingertips as you feel his abs, moving lower and lower until you get to the hem of his sweatpants. 
you let out a gasp when your eyes finally meet what’s right in front of your face. rafe is straining so hard through his sweatpants that you know it must be painful, the way he’s pushing against the fabric.
“what do… good girls do with this?” you ask, hoping rafe knows what you’re referring to.
“they touch it.” rafe says, taking your hand again and lowering it over his crotch, pressing your palm against his hardness, making him let out a grunt.
“that feels good?” you ask as you begin to rub your hand over it. 
“baby, it feels amazing.” rafe steps back, and you frown, going to ask him if he’s lying about it feeling good if he’s making you stop, but then he grabs his sweatpants and lowers them down, taking his underwear with him.
your eyes widen at the sight in front of you, a primal urge taking over as you reach back out, wrapping your fingers around his thick length. you’ve never seen a cock up close, and definitely not one as beautiful as the one your boyfriend possesses.
“fuck, your hands on me are heaven.” rafe moans, and you feel a flutter in your heart at the praise, beginning to stroke your hand up and down over his shaft, eyes occasionally traveling up to his face to make sure he’s still enjoying your movements.
you try different things, try faster, try slower, you even take your palm and rub it against the end of his cock, making rafe suddenly thrust forward with a moan. you can tell he likes it, but his reaction scares you slightly, so you keep to stroking his length.
“you want to know what else good kittens do?” rafe asks. he smiles when you quickly nod.
“they lick it.” he says, taking a step closer so he’s between your legs, not failing to notice the way your wetness has grown to leave a mark on his bed, but you’re so focused on him that you’ve forgotten the ache in your pussy.
“oh.” you say, leaning forward and taking an experimental lick of the head of his cock. you look up at rafe, swallowing the slightly salty taste that’s left on your tongue. 
“come on.” rafe encourages you, and you lean forward, licking again, relishing in the taste as you continue, covering the head of his cock with spit as you get into the feeling.
once you’re used to it, you begin to move your hand again, stroking it from base right up to his head where you continue exploring with your tongue.
“try sucking.” rafe says, and you only hesitate for a moment before opening your mouth, placing the head of his cock against your tongue. you close your lips over it, surprised how big it feels inside of your mouth.
you give a gentle suck before looking up, not wanting to hurt rafe. “harder.” he commands, and you close your eyes, focusing again as you give him a harsher suck. the moan rafe lets out spurs you to continue, caressing his cock with your tongue inside of your mouth as you continue to suck.
your hand, that was holding him steady at the base, begins to move again, and you develop a rhythm of sucking and stroking him when suddenly rafe pulls away, chest heaving as you swallow the remnants of his taste on your tongue.
“did i mess up?” you ask, making rafe let out a breathy laugh.
“no, baby, not at all. i just almost came.” he explains, reaching to run a hand through your hair.
“oh!” you say, eyes widening. you almost made him orgasm. you knew that was the end goal, but you never realized how good you were doing. you feel a bit of pride grow in your chest at that.
“you know, we can keep practicing until you eventually can suck all of me.” you glance down to his cock, eyes widening, wondering how you’re supposed to fit all of him inside of your mouth. 
“don’t worry now, darling.” rafe ducks and gives your forehead a kiss. “we will work up to it. for now, why don’t you take your shirt off then lay on the bed?” you had forgotten completely about your own pleasure, but at the reminder you realize how hard your nipples have grown, and how the need to have him back between your thighs has only gotten bigger as you sucked him off. 
you shuck your shirt off, no longer feeling as insecure now that rafe is naked. you scooch further up on the bed until you’re able to lay down on the pillows, watching as rafe paces at the end of the bed, eyes never leaving your body as he admires you, admires you like a predator does their prey before taking them down.
“spread your legs.” rafe commands, and you follow his instructions instantly, bearing your pussy to him.
rafe gets onto the bed, kneeling between your thighs. he runs his hands over your legs, trying to control himself, but the need to hear your moans again is too great.
he presses his thumb to your clit, easily rubbing over it due to your slickness. your back arches up off the bed, letting out a cry.
“good kitten, shh.” rafe says, bring his thumb up and sticks it in his mouth, tasting your wetness before quickly reconnecting. “i’m gonna touch you somewhere new.”
you barely register his words, too focused on the way your clit is pulsing with pleasure. your eyes that you hadn’t even realized had slid closed shoot open when the tip of rafes finger presses against your hole.
“rafe!” you squeal. you’ve never had anyone touch you there before.
“remember what i said about good kittens?” he reminds you. you take a deep breath, letting your body relax. you trust your boyfriend, and you need to make up for lying to him earlier. 
“good girl.” rafe presses his finger harder, until it breaks the seal of your hole. he could moan just from the first knuckle being inserted, knowing you’re going to squeeze his cock so tight.
his finger keeps pushing in, and you feel like it’s impossibly long. it’s uncomfortable for a moment, but his thumb continues to move over your clit, and the discomfort changes to pure elation as you feel a high rising over your body.
“stop, rafe, i think i’m gonna pee!” you warn, but his thumb continues to move, and he turns his hand so his finger quirks up, pressing against the spot inside of you that has you tumbling over the edge, entire body arching up as you moan, letting out a slew of words that sound like rafes name mixed with curses, curses that you never let pass your lips but you can’t help it now.
your entire body shakes as you feel wave after wave of pleasure, all from rafes adept hands. he slows his thumb on your clit and eventually stops when it pulses angrily underneath him, but he keeps the singular digit inside of you.
“did i pee?” you ask, afraid to even look down, unsure what just happened.
“no, baby, you just came. you had an orgasm.” rafe explains, placing his freehand on your outer thigh and rubbing it comfortingly.
“that felt…” you don’t know how it’s possible for you to blush anymore, but you do, “that felt really good.”
rafe smiles down at you, “i know honey, and i’m gonna help you feel another one since you’re such a good kitten. and you’re gonna help me cum too.”
“i’m gonna help you feel like that?” you ask, wanting to experience the intense feeling with your boyfriend.
“you are.” he nods. “this is why you’re such a good girl, we are gonna get to do this all the time now. i’ll show you how to orgasm with my cock, and with my tongue.” “i can cum on your tongue?” your eyes widen, remembering the way his soft but skillful tongue felt against you.
“you can.” rafe says, “but first, i need to open your pussy up with my fingers so i can fit my cock inside of you.” “i don’t know if it’s gonna ffffff-” you’re cut off as rafe begins to move his finger again. 
“i’ll fit baby, don’t worry.” rafe says, feeling how good you’ve already opened up for him. your body lays slack against the mattress, and he’s glad that you got to your orgasm so quickly so he can focus on opening you up while you’re relaxed.
he moves until his singular digit pushes easily into you. he looks up to find your eyes closed, taking deep breaths as you attempt to keep your body relaxed, but you do tense up momentarily when a second finger joins in pressing against your entrance.
before you can even freak out, they are both plunging inside of you, moving easier due to your wetness.
“baby girl, you’re making me so proud.” rafe says, and he swears you actually start to glow under his praise. his innocent little girlfriend, somehow managing to remain sweet even as he finger fucks you.
“can you… touch my clit again?” you ask, swallowing thickly.
“no, princess. next time you cum i want it to be on my cock. i’ll touch your clit then.” rafe says, noticing the face you make. “don’t pout or you won’t cum at all.”
you wipe the frown off your face, really wanting to feel what it’s like to orgasm with rafes cock inside you, even if it looks too large.
“i’m gonna scissor my fingers now, kitten.” rafe warns, and you let out a moan as he starts to open up his fingers, pressing them against your walls to make space for himself.
“there you go.” rafe mumbles, eyes on your cunt as you loosen. he can barely stand to wait any longer as he gently pulls his fingers out, sucking them into his mouth to get another taste of you.
“t-time for your cock?” you ask, whispering the last word so quietly that rafe can barely hear you.
“yes, time for my cock. be a good girl and stay relaxed.” rafe considers what position will be best for you before grabbing a pillow that you’re not resting your head against, and moving it to underneath your hips. he moves closer on the bed, rubbing the head of his cock against your pussy.
as soon as he brushes your entrance, you tense up.
“hey.” rafe warns, pulling his hips back as he delivers a swift slap to your pussy, right over your clit that has you crying out. “i said relax.” “sorry.” you whimper, taking a deep breath as rafe lines himself up again. he pushes his hips forward, moaning as the head of his cock is concealed by your tight heat, walls constricting him but he’s able to keep moving as you stay relaxed.
“good girl.” rafe praises you as he sinks in, pausing to move at a snail pace when you squirm or make a noise of discomfort.
eventually, his hips are settled right between your thighs, pressed as deeply as they can go. as much as rafe wants to go feral, he doesn’t want to cause you too much pain, so he lets you have a moment to adjust.
“so big inside me daddy.” you whimper, unsure of where the name came from.
“daddy, huh?” the corner of rafes lip quirks up. “maybe you’re not a good girl after are, maybe you are a dirty slut.” “i’m no-oooo!” you scream as rafe beings to move, his hips pulling away and then slamming back in. your eyes roll back in your head at the feeling of his cock moving against your walls, every inch feeling so sensitive.
“you’re not a dirty slut? because this is exactly how dirty sluts behave when they have their daddies cock inside of them.” rafe moves faster when he feels that you’re only getting wetter.
“i wanna be your good kitten.” you whine, hands grasping at the sheets.
“hmm.” rafe slows down so he can feel every inch of you, using his cock to memorize the way you feel around him. “maybe you’re my good girl and my dirty slut. can you be both for me baby?” “i can, i can.” you whine, feeling tears slide down your face. rafe keeps one hand stabilizing your hip and uses the other to swipe his thumb across your cheeks to collect your tears.
“be my slut and my princess. cum on my cock for me.” rafe wants to last longer, he really does, but now that he knows how dirty you can be when he pushes you, especially the way you reacted to him slapping your pussy, he knows this is by far the last time you let him play with your body.
he speeds up, his cock swelling inside of you as he rubs you clit again, as promised. you moan consistently, unable to control your voice as you get closer and closer to the edge, now able to identify the feeling as it hits you hard.
rafes cock hits your insides just right, and you explode at the same time as him, your cunt squeezing repeatedly in your orgasm, milking all of the cum out of him as he shouts your name, releasing himself as deeply as he can.
you are both breathing heavily when rafe falls forward, pressing his body against yours. you whine at the change of position in his cock as he keeps it lodged deep inside of you.
“was i good?” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his jaw as rafe picks his head up.
“you were so good, princess. such a dirty little whore for me.” rafe kisses you in earnest, delighting in the way your lips slide over each others, even more open to the make out now than you were before you had sex. “gonna be your good little slut from now on.” you whisper against his lips, surprised to feel rafes cock twitch inside of you as he rehardens slightly.
rafe presses a deep kiss to your lips, “i know you will, baby. i’m so proud of you.”
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frownyalfred · 3 months
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Fic idea where Bruce gives Jason grief over his cigarette smoking (valid) and Jason tells him to fuck off and that he died (also valid) only for Bruce to challenge Jason to a spar which Bruce narrowly wins.
They’re both sitting there on the mats bleeding and breathing harshly, and sure enough, Jason reaches into his pocket and pulls out his cigarettes, offering one to Bruce mostly as a joke.
Bruce takes the cigarette. Jason stares at him, stunned, and lights his own. He hands the lighter over to Bruce and watches his dad burn through that cigarette with the ease and confidence of a lifetime smoker, and says absolutely nothing.
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bonchobrick · 1 year
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So I’ve seen some posts going around about a ‘Bruce adopts Danny and everyone thinks they’ll finally have a normal family member—Danny is very not normal’ and here’s my late night take on it.
Or
Danny batfam au where they batfam tries really hard to keep their vigilante ass-kicking nightlife a secret from danny because he is ‘the only normal one in the family’ this becomes a problem however when danny gets kidnapped.
——-
The batfam all work together in a deeply serious family meeting to save their boy. After hours of combining their brains together they come up with a plan that will effectively save danny from joker, kick joker’s ass, and also make them look really cool while doing it.
So they bust in that warehouse, guns blazing, explosions fading in the background, a gust of dramatic dust covers the air
Batman steps infront of the rest of the team and demands to the blurry figure somewhere in the distance, “Where is Danny!”
The dust clears–they expect bad guys pointing weapons meancingly at them, they expect a cackle of a wicked clown amused at whatever plot he had planned coming to life, they expected a terrified boy perhaps tied somewhere likely siting in a chair that joker could present to the bats as a way of taunting them.
The dust settles–they observed their surroundings looking around and realize that, there are few new facts to be added into this ‘defeat the villain, get the bro, happy ending equation’
There is decidedly no weapons being pointed at them: In fact, all of the henchmen are already knocked out and tied up.
There is decidedly no evil laughs being echoed their way: In fact, the only noise that isnt coming from them is a light scritch scratch of a pencil
And there is decidedly no terrified little boy, there is a Danny however and he seems to be doing alright–actually scratch that.
Danny is doing wonders for the situation he’s in right now: In fact–
–Danny is sitting criss cross applesauce on-top a knocked out tied up Joker doing his algebra homework
The small blue eyed boy looks up at Batman's voice and visibly brightens, “Oh hey guys, I was wondering when you’d show up.”
Jason says with the utmost of comprehension, “...what.”
“So hi, I’m kinda new to gotham so sorry about beating these guys up, I think they’re villains? I dunno, anyways if you could take care of these guys while I call an uber home that’d be great.”
Danny sends them a blinding smile which would've been adorable if there weren’t a massive pile of bodies he were casually walking away from.
As Danny nears the exit he looks over his shoulder to the baffled group of vigilantes and blinks
“Oh yeah one last thing,” Danny rubs the back of his neck nervously, “Could you guys not tell the Waynes about this.”
Damian speaks up for the rest of his frozen family, albeit hesitantly, “I do think they have already been alerted of your kidnapping.”
“Oh no that's fine.” Danny starts nervously, “It's more about me being the… fighter… in this situation. I was just adopted by them and they seem really nice, I don’t want to scare them away being all grrrr im a scary monster boy and i love to hurt people argh.”
“I don’t think they’d think you're a monster.” Tim adds quietly
“Eh, tell that to my birth parents–they went psycho on me. Like evil scientist psycho, it was not as awesome as the movies make it sound, having scientists for parents.” Danny says bittersweet as he admits with a shrug
There is a moment of silence as the batfamily reevaluate the adoption file that states Danny’s family before they passed were very good people–albeit a bit excentric.
Dick blurts out, “Where did you learn to fight?”
Danny sends him an anxious chuckle, “I actually started when I was fourteen–my town always ran into some trouble so I had to step up. It’s part of the reason I moved here actually. I really don’t want anything to do with that hero vigilante life anymore…” The boy puts his hands together in a pleading motion, “So please don’t tell The Waynes!”
Bewildered at the situation as a whole they nod in a daze
The boys eyes widen at their easy agreement and he grins, “Thank you so so much! I’ve got to go now, it’s way past my curfew. but you’ll probably see me again next time I get kidnapped–I’ll make sure to put in a good word for you guys with my family bye!”
And just like that Danny slips off into the night leaving behind a family who were so sure they finally found a normal addition to their pack.
Jason sighs looking forlornly at the spot Danny had previously been standing, “You could just never pick the just semi-mentally healthy normal kids could you?”
Bruce groans pinching his the bridge of his nose
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gojonanami · 3 months
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thinking about gojo asking you if you think you would be together in your other lifetimes and you say yes. and you are — he’s a model and you’re his photographer, he’s a prince and you’re his knight, he’s your actor husband and you’re his singer wife, and he’s your target and you’re his assassin—
and you are together in every life — one way or another — but in this life, you part, as you watch him fall to Sukuna.
and you wait for the next life, where you can finally be together.
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