#almost comically impossible to use
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
im convinced free programs advertising as alternatives to photoshop are actually operated by adobe to make broke fans go absolutely crazy so we snap and subscribe to the evil 700€/year adobe thing
#the very old version of photoshop i got for free with my laptop in 2015 and miraculously kept alive all these years finally croaked#im trying to use gimp and its like#almost comically impossible to use#i know photoshop isnt even the best tool to make collages/edits but i learned everything on this shit#that's where im most efficient#someone tell me how i can hack it back to life
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Okay okay I agree with everyone talking about the possibility of Pluto finally getting to go to France and meeting Duke in one of his shows, but I now raise you: What if they met BEFORE and Duke was actually the one to tell him about France and the lights and everything. What if Duke were the reason he wanted to go there in the first place. What then.
#imagine if Duke at some did a tour or something and stopped some time in London#and they met there for some random ass encounter#also Pluto seemed pretty much more kinda angry and jumpy bc of the whole living w his father thing obviously so they’d probably have+#+the messiest first(s) encounters ever w yk Duke being naturally sassy n silly and Pluto in that fucking place just done w everything#bonus points if they at first kept bumping into each other comically coincidentally and they get practically destiny forced to get along#more bonus points if they end up meeting at night on some random ass rooftop and bc of this Duke starts calling him cat#aka the REAL origin of “mon minou”#imagine if Duke invited him to go there w him or something GOD the possibilities#I just kinda fucking created a whole fanfic here fuck don’t mind me I’m being delusional#almost everything in this is 99% impossible but I hate reality I don’t care#nevermore webtoon#duke nevermore#pluto nevermore#pluto x duke#pluke#cat in the hat#SOMEONE NAMED THE SHIP THAT AND I LOVE IT SOSOSO MUCH IM USING THAT FOREVER
153 notes
·
View notes
Text
I really don’t wanna be that guy but completely honestly why does anyone think that a petition is going to do anything
#and look im saying this as someone who signed it JUST IN CASE. okay. before you come for me#but im serious its almost comical to me how useless the whole thing is.#they KNOW how well liked it is. they SEE the fanbase and its reaction and the sheer amount of fanworks and so on that have been posted#within the show’s (tiny) lifespan#and they cancelled it anyway.#so just reiterating what they already know and already considered in their decision is. utterly futile#not to mention they just. wouldn’t give a shit about a petition anyway#this is netflix we’re talking about. it’s not their first rodeo#they can do literally anything they want. there’s no way we can make a dent big enough to get them to cave that’s like. just a fact#I wish it wasn’t but. 99.9999% certainty on that#best we could hope for is being picked up by HBO and even that is basically impossible due to legal implications and#more than anything due to the resignation of the cast and crew- yockey’s already posting spoilers and shit. so. yeah#anyway. yeah I wish petitions worked but. I don’t know why anyone thinks of netflix highly enough to believe they’d look at a fan-made#petition and give a shit and suddenly change their minds#they don’t care about us! they don’t care about the cast or crew! they do not care! sorry#im sorry im really very sorry for being so cynical but. how can’t I be#rambling
14 notes
·
View notes
Text

The. (2)
#fire emblem#feh#WAS. GONNA POST THIS SO KUCH EARLIER but i was so exhausted i needed to take a nap#then right after hung out w my sister LMFAOOO no time to be Making Poasts ...#I NEED. to get this out of my system though bc it was SO SEVERE. got hit w the overwhelming#I MISS SHARENA. I MISS HER SO MUCH. WHERE IS SHE. I NEED TO DRAW RIGHT RIGHT NOW OR I'M GONNA THRUP feeling#i'm TELLING you. it sneaks up on me. and when it hits IT HITS ME SO BAD........... I'M GOING TO BURST INTO TEARS ABOUT IT#i can never put it into words but like. i think moe and sharena are cursed actually. just a bit#curse being Really similar personality traits/levels of intensity But. somehow almost impossible to be on the same page about it.#they share a braincell. they're constantly bouncing off each other. they have to work So Hard. to actually understand each other.#CREATES. SUCH A DYNAMIC. so prone to chaos (for better AND worse)#anyways.. i def needed a break from my project LMFAO and to get used to New Pen... i can feel the difference.#will take some adjusting....#sharena#moe tag#summoner oc#my art#my comics#super. messy and low effort. but whatvwrr
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
i be having thoughts ab cherubs most of u could never comprehend
#homestuck#thinking a lot ab redblood coalitions and cherub social structures#'oh but didnt the comic say theyre solitary?-' most of that info came from non-cherub sources#even what was given to us by the cals most certainly isn't completely true bc of their unique living situation#cherubs are elusive and have extremely unique body language and communication systems. it's almost impossible to study them-#-without an adult who lived a proper cherub life just telling you everything#even HIC couldn't possibly tell what calamity was actually feeling or thinking despite constantly fighting her for a good few hundred years#simply because.. she just wasn't a cherub herself
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
crazy that gravity falls was like, hey what if we made twin brothers, and one of them is the worse one. he gets bad grades, he likes to punch his problems, everyone thinks of him as “the other one.” he’s engulfed in a shadow that’s shaped like him. he doesn’t even have his own name—it’s derived of his brother’s name, the only one his parents planned on having and using. everything about him is derivative—imitative of another person (his twin brother) (the one everyone likes and wants) and is disapproved of for that reason (he isn’t just “bad at this thing,” he’s “not as good as his brother”). and then he ruins his brother’s science fair project (the one next to his own—no one noticed it because it’s not good, it’s almost stupid next to a “perpetual motion machine” made by a high schooler) (he tried to fix it) (he doesn’t know how; he’s not as smart as the guy who made it) and he gets kicked out. the potential of the money his twin could’ve made is enough to throw him onto the street, and he can’t go home until he makes that money back (the money that was never gained and therefore was never lost. he never had a chance of making enough). he took every job he could (his brother went to school). he got banned from multiple states (his brother bought a house). he traveled internationally and went to prison and had people try to hunt him down and kill him because he couldn’t make enough money (his brother’s house has three basements. he made them himself, as secure as can be). and when his twin finally summons him for help, things go wrong (he messed up this machine like the last one) (he doesn’t know how to fix it. he isn’t as smart as the guy who made it) (he tries to fix it) (he was never any good at reading and these blueprints are impossible, coded and fragmented and in a science that he didn’t know existed) (he tries to fix it). the townspeople ask who he is, and he doesn’t even say his own name (it was hardly his to begin with). and he invites them to a house that isn’t his to show off experiments that aren’t his because he needs to make money that can’t be his. everything he does for the next 30 years is in his twin’s name, for his twin’s sake. he had two funerals for himself and it isn’t even his body in the casket; he had to wear his brother’s name to both of them. if he had died before he fixed the portal, that funeral wouldn’t have been for him. we meet him as a funny and unique character, but in-universe, he’s only ever been defined by someone else.
and then they went, this is entirely in the background btw. most of that is going to be revealed in one episode and won’t be addressed again. he’s a primary comic relief, even. I’m ill about this.
#‘stripped for edible flour in Tijuana’ not even for money. not even cooked food. for FLOUR.#I took a benadryl and wrote this instead of passing out#so if there are any typos or weird leaps in logic lmk. the latter I just hallucinated typing the connection. or accidentally deleted it#gravity falls#stan pines#robot rambles#didn’t know how to put it in the post but he IS the worse one. they’re all right about him (compared to ford)#(because it’s always and only ever in comparison to ford)#he’s derivative. he’s his own man. he loves his family. his family ruined him.#his desire to be rich is so deeply-rooted. it’s always been tied to success and happiness#winning the game show really would’ve been everything.
10K notes
·
View notes
Text
──𐙚 think i need someone older (s & f)
olderBoyfriend!Jungkook x inexperienced!reader
────୨ৎ────
content: some plot first, loss of virginity, age gap of 9 years (he´s 30), thigh humping, little dry humping too, cowgirl, he talks her through it, dom!jungkook, "sweet girl, baby, love", "gguk" lowkey insecure reader, praise, making out, breast play, clit play, creampie, unprotected, hickies on him, big c!ck Jungkook, small karaoke session, he´s whipped and wants to take care of her, short mention of alcohol (bc of that fucking bar he has omg), allusions to reader being short, she's very feminine
note from cherry: i tried to do justice to the people who wanted this, i hope you´re satisfied mwah! sooo sorry if it´s not giving lmao writing this was lowkey exhausting, also sorry for typos as always
────୨ৎ────
Jeon Jungkook is exactly like his preferred alcoholic beverage; whiskey. strong, rich, smooth, smells like oak and a hint of vanilla caramel. Much like your introduction to the drink, you met this man in a bar.
A real man- none of those barely twenty-year olds that paraded around in their sagged sweatpants and with a bright tap of unlimited unopened snapchats lighting up the dark corners of the bar. Jungkook is pure masculinity, a chest so full with security, so grounded in his abilities that it was practically impossible to ignore how his large, brown galaxy eyes focused on your face, zeroing in on your cupid´s bow while you licked the stinging remains of your moscow mule away- he paid for it, of course.
Once the enticing conversation that felt almost comically easy faded, you expected him to try and take you to his house- mansion, as he revealed in a sidetracked sentence. Although you were looking forward to seeing the small metal pearls below and over his eyebrow move as they crinkle in pleasure, the tight ropes of virginity had not yet been released in your 21 years of living. Shackles that keep you tied down- as promised out of your own, admittedly senseless morality, not to be opened by a stranger. The key to your cuffs belonged to a lover.
It was unforeseeable, nevertheless natural for him to droop his heavily tattooed arm around your waist while escorting you out of the establishment. The sleeve of his white button down folded up along his forearm for you to see the beauty of his skin, wondering just how many more of those carefully crafted works of art he´s hiding beneath the business casual attire.
Once engulfed in the harsh, bitter wind that itaewon possesses, his arm only drew you in closer, so near in fact, you were able to notice a small scar on his cheek, one you hadn´t been able to notice in the curse of a dimly lit place. The more your eyes adjusted to him, so grew your anger at the lighting inside your place of first meeting- it had done an injustice to the man you had already been disgustingly attracted to, stole the wholehearted, inescapable allure of such a mature presence.
The gentleman looks down into your awaiting eyes, only to ask if he may have your number, upon your agreement, he proceeded to tell you that he would be walking you home, wanting you to arrive safely since it must be dangerous for a woman to walk the streets of a party district at 2 am in the morning.
That encounter was four months ago, and only a month after that initial conversation, he had completely taken over you. Swallowed you whole in just how well he treated you.
Insistent of using his black card to buy you anything you remotely showed liking in, dedicated to communication, random flowers that showed up at your office and a constant offer of a ride in his luxurious black mercedes-benz GT63s; no matter how long it took- even if it was a inconvenience, sometimes taking longer to get to you than it would have taken you to simply retort to public transport.
"I told you i´d make it for you, didn´t I baby? hm?" his velvet smooth voice rings, from how he´s standing, with his body pressed against your back, towering over you, you could feel the hardened muscles of his torso meeting you. His large, slim hands reach to either side of your waist, to the glass filled with ice that you´re holding in between your own, gently removing them to resume the task that you were occupied with. Your eyes glance to the bulging of his bicep, that loose, casual tshirt did nothing to hide just how big he had gotten due to his newfound hobby.
you whine- almost, biting down on your lower lip to prevent just that from happening, "thank you gguk" you say, turning to peck the very muscle that´s invading your line of sight. He hums, a low, satisfied sound from the back of his throat.
"c´mere baby" patting one of his muscular thighs, his eyes drift to your figure walking towards him, iced tea in hand, just like he had made it for you. Sweet, light, refreshing, much like your presence in his life. Almost like a sign from the stars that his hearts content was somewhere, bundled in the form of a shorter girl with eyes that could entrance any sailor- far less siren like, no, wide with love and purity. Just what he had yearned for in any women he had met before you-whether tangled in meaningless sheets or involved in a month long, semi serious relationship, Jungkook was yet to cross paths with the one woman that would make him turn so desperate, he would have begged for their happiness on his knees. It might be romantic, even a tad dramatic to admit that from the very first word that left your pink glossed lips, he knew better than anyone else that he was in deep, deep trouble. Upon seeing the curve of your waist, hearing that soft, lulling voice, that embarrassingly obvious fact only intensified after finding out just how delightful you truly were, it made him want to rip his hair out- do anything in the possibility of his grip to see even a glimpse of your smile, of that lighthearted, cheerful giggle you let out regularly. He was drawn in my your feminine nature, by the way you let yourself fall into his caring embrace.
He´s quickly directed back to reality as soon as your legs make it to either side of the thigh he had patted earlier, a familiar position for this equally familiar occasion. Muscle memory sets in for him, grabbing the large karaoke remote to hand to you while he turns the microphone on. "Can you sing something to me first?" the question sets his bunny smile off, nodding instantly "Sure love, chose a song for me" he says. Your mind floods with ideas, but you settle for a song you´ve heard him hum millions of times, mindlessly going about.
"Malibu nights?", jungkook questions excitedly while the instrumental sets in, he knew the answer, but his heart swelled with joy at the notice you took to this song. After all, he loved to sing. Another layer to him that has you melting, growing into the embodiment of love that is endlessly cherishing what little fractions were revealed to your eyes in each fleeting moment. His honey voice reaches beautiful highs and lows you can only compare to something angelically otherworldly in nature.
It made you want to know just how deep he could growl, how far his sounds can drop with the dirty nothings you would love to have whispered in your ear. You felt filthy for letting your mind wander to such extends when all he did was sing, lulling you into drunken harmony with him. Still, you consciously lean back into his body, letting him wrap his arms around your waist, encircling it with his vanilla oak scent.
During the past four months, you were doomed to have to shatter his hopes, reveal the truth that somehow felt shameful ; that you´re fully untouched. Nothing further than a bad makeout had yet graced your skin, it made you feel even smaller admitting something so vulnerable to a man that carries almost an entire decade of experience more. Much to your comfort, his hands found the curve of your cheeks immediately, telling you that there is nothing to be embarrassed about, he would hand you the full control, you set the pace.
Internally, Jungkook drooled at the idea that the woman of his dreams was to have her first, the most memorable, sexual encounter with him. Your body belonged to him, devoted to only remember the touch of his lips, the curve of his cock, how he would mold you to his shape without the intrusion of another man having tried the same. Not that he would have wanted you any less if that had not been the case, but for one time in your relationship, he was oh so selfish to want you all to himself, aroused that your first person induced orgasm was going to be his and his alone. The prophecy fulfilled when on one, alcohol induced night a week ago, two of his long, tattooed digits made their entrance into your tight hole, relentlessly filling you until your soft thighs shook, until after your third high, he licked his fingers clean and let you taste yourself on his tongue.
The tunes get lost in silence, he sets the microphone down, having felt the warmth of your mound beneath the tights while you tried to subtly gain friction, scooting back on him. His palms find your thighs, tightly flushed around his muscle. They´re shamelessly wandering up and down the thin material that prevents his hot, calloused fingers from feeling up your smooth skin.
"Wanna do that again, love?" jungkook mutters, his pillowed lips latch on to your exposed neck, right at the gentle curve that paints the beginning of your shoulder, soft, faint kisses that leave a trail of barely sounding sighs behind.
"Do what?" feigning innocence to avoid internal humiliation, you ask him, knowing he wouldn´t let it go, not until you told him to. The sound of his husky chuckle sounds right on the sweetspot of your neck, he sucks a little harder, encouraging you with the constant rub to your thighs. Instinctively, the heat inside your panties grows as do the intensity of your desperate moans, your hips push back on his thigh, seeking the solidity that grants you the portion of satisfaction your needy button longed for
"that" he simply says, having found an anchor in your hips now, your plaid skirt bunches around his hands, slowly- tortuously so when met with the deliberate little humps he helps you to complete on him. You practically whimper once his tongue glides across your skin, dragging from your shoulder, up your neck, intertwined with his open mouth, loud kisses that don´t seem to stop.
"that´s it... do you even know how cute you sound?" he smiles, and you feel it, you feel the smile rise to his lips with every additional kiss, every noise you grant the hungry male. "gguk, wanna see you" you whine- the high pitched noise has him twitching in his training joggers, semi errect but about to stand stiff, just as noticeably as that night seven days ago, having formed a huge tent inside his slacks, there was no hiding his attraction, no use to conceal his utter need for you.. nor his size, not that he would be capable to anyways.
To your request, he helps you turn around, now facing that dim glow on your slightly embarrassed features, taking note of how you nibble on your lip with every grind forward, "that feel good sweet girl?" he asks, ghosting his lips over yours faintly, just enough to see how much you need it, "mhm.. really good" you mumble back, chasing after his lips that he can't deny you of any longer, the kiss is gentle, but nourishes your heat further
"wanna feel even better?" the pit in your lower abdomen grows at the tone of his voice, something much stronger is seeping through his system, something that screams dominance, you nod- naturally wanting to get lost in it. Jungkook's hands stop assisting you, instead, they take to your shirt, "can i take this off of you baby?" he waits for that little hum of yours before swiftly tugging it away from your form
It's almost frightening how quickly your mind reverts back to wanting to run away and hide, your arms fly across your chest, everything you felt so good doing stops and he stops too,
"don't hide, you're perfect, you're so fucking sexy" his eyes trace your skin, hands wrapping around your wrists to pull your arms away, revealing your chest hugged into your bra, and jungkook almost forgets how to breathe properly,
he groans- groans that delicious deep noise that makes your head spin, even more so when you feel his appreciation for your body, hands pulling you closer by the waist so can bury his head into your cleavage. "so beautiful" he mutters, darting his tongue out to lick the slit between your tits, "wanna touch all over you, make you feel so good" he says, finding the clasp on your back to open it with one hand. a silent reminder of his experience, one you did not have in the slightest but somehow, it felt even better that way
"mh.. feels good gguk" you can't help but moan at the forgein sensation, his lips wrap around your hardend nipple, groaning sweetly while he sucks on it, carefully swiping his tongue over the little nub- your other breast is securely fitted into his palm, thumb playing with it just like he does with his mouth, mirroring every little flick
"feels so good doesn't it? you smell so good baby" his lips move to do the same to your other breast, switching sides with a trail of saliva sticking to his lips,
In that moment you feel so sensitive, so lost in his secure hold and at the same time, so small in his skillful dominance that you simply relish in the feeling, grinding your soaked core into his thigh over and over, long, hasty drags over his muscle while his lips work magic on your skin, squeezing a little tighter, sucking a little harder because every stuttered whimper fuels his urge to take care of you
"that's it baby.. keep going, you're so good" your hands find his dark chocolate locs, threading through it with the need to ground yourself. it feels as though every time your clit meets him, instead of getting you closer to sensational relief it adds to the ache, feeds into your desire to take and take more of him, be consumed by his strength
"want this off please" your excited fingers fiddle with the hem of his oversized shirt, earning a smug grin from your boyfriend as he detaches from you, discarding of his top
Although you have seen him shirtless before, it's impossible not to salivate at the sight, at his toned broad torso that curves into a unfairly small waist, large arms flexing when he reaches for your tits again, massaging them once more,
"like what you see pretty?" he says, teasingly cocking his head and biting at the metal ring on the corner of his lip, you blush- the slick drools out even more between your thighs, "so hot gguk, annoyingly hot" he chuckles, joining the sound with your airy giggle, but he sucks in a breath as soon as you shift in his lap, now fully straddling him, naked chest pressed to his with your head burried in his neck, "hmm.. what are you up to baby?" his hands find your back, soothing himself not to pounce on you because the strain in his pants is staggering his breath, your errect nipples are rubbing against his skin and it´s making him shiver, desperate, oh so desperate for you
but he knows all to well not to overwhealm your sweet, virgin body, to let you take all the time you need until he can feel every breath of your submission
"wanna feel you gguk, can i?" jungkook almost purrs at how innocently you ask, suppressing the need to grind his hips into your heat from below, "of course baby, anything you want. it's all yours"
he meant it, every vein cursing through his body belongs to you, working, pumping blood through him for the sole purpose of loving you, taking care of you. "all mine?" you hum, aroused by the confidence he emitts, your hands trace up his torso, creating a small distance between your bodies to feel up the hard lines on his abdomen with laboured breath of your own, lips finding every small patch of his neck that make him hum, make his sighs of pleasure slowly turn into groans "all yours my love" the answer wasn't necessary, not when you already started to leave traces of you on his skin, faint, red bruises on his neck that he's impatiently waiting to run around with
"you feel so fucking good, need to feel more of you, will you let me sweet girl?" his words are intoxicating, washing away any doubt or fear and replacing it with a intense craving of sexual desire "please gguk i'm so wet for you" the sound reaches his ears and shuts down his entire system, his hands carelessly rip down your skirt and stockings, leaving you in those tiny grey boyshorts that he looses his mind over "baby how did you hide all this from me?" his hands caress your thighs, your hips, up your waist and to the soft flesh of your stomach with hungry, insatiable eyes that long for a taste of your every inch
"all yours" you mimic him, sounding just like him with your sultry, shy voice, already wanting to remove his own bottoms which he catches on, ridding himself of the nuisance "yeah, all mine. this is all mine" he says, smiling softly
Your drenched underwear meets his errection as he pulls you back on his lap, hands sitting on your waist, you look so vulnerable- almost fragile in his grip, shyly moaning because the curve of his cock presses into your skin like it was molded for you, needy folds clinging to your underwear and your clit throbs- throbs begging for another taste of friction
"I don't know how to do any of this" he suddenly he hears you mumble, seeing how you're playing with your fingers that sit on his lower abdomen, your head is turned to them, a slight pout decorates your features
jungkook feels the need to sob- to take away whatever is making that pretty head of yours feel so threatened even though you're the best thing he has ever felt, the only person he ever wants to lay his hands on ever again
"that's okay baby, hey, look at me for a second will you?" you comply, craving his lead, his security to catch you, most of all that gentle, masculine dominance that floods your senses effortlessly
"you're doing so so well pretty, you don't have to worry okay? i'll take you through it, make you feel so good" he says, cupping your cheeks in his palms while sitting up a little to press kisses to your nose, your forhead, your lips and cheeks,
unable to contain your smile, you nod, gaining back the heartbeat in your willing feminity to let him take care of you, "thank you baby" you say with upmost honesty, pressing your lips to his in a kiss of adoration
"mhm.. come on, let's get this off of you love" his whipers lingers on you, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your underwear before pulling it off your lifted legs, he moans at the sight of your bare cunt, slick attached to the cloth and glistening over your feminity
"so beautiful, do you even realize how lucky i am? how thankful i am that this sweet, sweet girl is all mine to love?" he says softly, so softly that your eyes gloss a little bit, feeling so utterly vulnerable in front of him, so sexy in the most feminine way possible. blush creeps up your cheeks, his hands find your inner thigh, dancing around the sensitive skin "you're too sweet gguk"
he returns your smiles, lifting your hand to kiss it before intertwining it with his own, lacing his fingers into you because being apart from your body feels like torture in this moment. but you're eyes are busied elsewhere, locked on the large outline that stands rock solid insides of his calvins, a small, wet patch that indicates his arousal decorating the very top
"go ahead baby, take it off" not needing to be told twice, you help yourself to his boxers, tugging them down in one, slow motion that leaves him biting his bottom lip, he pushes them down to his ankles, kicking them off
both of you sit like this for a moment that feels like eternity, raw, bare and without a chance to hide in front of the other's desperate gaze, comfort, pure love that's inseparable with a pulsing you can no longer ignore, not when he´s so big, so broad and decorated with a vein alongside his curved shaft
he grabs at the flesh of your ass, pulling you to sit your gushing cunt over his stiff length, cursing at feeling how soft you are, how much arousal truly spills from your body
"you're so.. big gguk.. m'scared" your whine makes him coo, stroking your head while a possessive grip that stays on your hip, his left hand tethering to your hair in the meantime, "don't be, you were made for me sweet girl, made for it" your head falls to his shoulder, arching your torso into his body with a small hump to his leaking cock, "that's right baby, feel it, feel how hard i am for you" spurred on by his encouragement, you tighten your hands on his bicep, rolling your hips over his, his entire shaft is coated in your essence, angry pink tip meeting your swollen clit repeatedly, so much so you feel your thighs shake, feel an impending orgasm waiting to flow over your body,
Ripping yourself of that sensation, not yet- you tell yourself
"want it gguk, want it so bad" jungkook hums, kissing your neck messily, cock throbbing beneath you, "want what pretty? talk to me" he says, his own desire to claim you all to himself becomes unbareable with each passing second that you stay put
You shift forward again, whining, "please gguk" he groans, twitching at how desperate you sound, entranced with how needy you've become for him, he didn't even have to make you beg for it, you just did
effortlessly perfect for him, "come on, tell me my love" but he has to hear more, he needs to hear the dirty confession falling from your pure lips
"want your cock jungkook, please" there it is- that submissive, whiny plead for him, it makes him feel alive, throwing his head back on the black leather couch momentarily "good girl, fuck baby you're so cute" he praises, taking the base of his cock into his hand but something stalls him, "do you want me to eat you out first? make it nice and slippery?" his teeth graze your ear, kissing over the shell of it, "no gguk i want it, want it now"- another nibble, "anything for you"
Your hips lift, hovering your tight, clenching hole over his thick manhood, hands sweaty and grasping at his firm shoulders, he spots your anxiety, wishing nothing more but to ease it
"sit down on it baby, it's gonna sting okay? but you're so good, I know you can take it" more, more reassuring words that you drink in, just as you sink down on it, wincing as your brows meet in frustration
"hurts.." you mutter, fingers digging into his tanned skin- you can't bring yourself to move down further, clenching your muscle tightly around only his fat tip that feels like it's splitting your drooling pussy open. his hands find your back again, "ssh baby.. i know... but you'e such a good girl, i know you can take every inch of my cock"
It takes a couple more kisses to your shoulder for you to sink down fully on his length, painfully so- having your hands claw into him, your lips trembling in confusion of why it feels so good to have him stuffed into you so deeply you can feel it inside your tummy, stretching into every crevice of your gummy walls. It's unlike anything you've ever felt before, fulfilling, deep pressure that you could get lost in- bathe in
Jungkooks feelings have synchronized with yours- he's unsure where you end or where he begins but you're clamped down on his cock, your skin already wet with sweat as it sticks to his unforgivingly, moans and shaky breaths fill in the silence, a unspoken question lingers, awaits for you to answer it
until you do, taking his large hands to your hips before pressing yours against his full pecks, a glint of confidence spites your eyes that makes jungkook want to hear you cry out his name over and over again
"oh fuck- baby you-" you whine, rolling your hips forward, mouth parted when you feel him move inside of you, slolwy, deeply "that's it my love, take your time, so sexy like this" his voice is far from stable, you moan again- the grinding becomes faster, assisted by his hands that pull you onto him just the way you like it- just like he said, you have it all, its all yours
"what- what if you can't come?" he needs to contain a laugh at that- the question is so absurd to him, so unimaginable that it makes him slightly angry why you couldn't understand that he could cum from seeing you alone, from one kiss to your chaste lips- he's already twitching at how sloppy, how loud your cunt is around him
"I almost came from seeing how needy that little pussy of yours is, you feel how hard i am don't you? all because of you baby" he mutters in response, you flourish at it, getting familiar with the grinding motion but you need more, you deserve more- so you start bouncing on him- up and down, slamming your own, curved hips down onto him. he's mesmerized by your pleasure, watching how your brows are knitted, how your lips leak with drool and airy moans, how your tits bounce- he gropes at them, cupping them greedily, his hands itch for your skin, for you to let yourself go on him
"good girl.. look at you, a natural at riding my cock- don't even need my help" you shake, exhaustion already growing in your eager hips but you cannot stop, you don´t want to stop taking every inch of his cock back into you, lifting your hips only to take him back in, "you're filling me so much" you moan into his mouth, having formed a unity with his lips that welcome you like home, "just like that pretty, little humps for me" he mumbles back, interlacing his tongue with yours
he tugs at your nipples with his inked fingers, reciprocrating the moaning, he mirrors you, throbs when you clench, explores your mouth when you part for him impatiently. it leaves you to no choice but to become his own reflection, your hips ground themselves in a stable rhythm as your fingertips roll over his own nipples, unexpectedly he whimpers, bites down into your shoulder cautiously
"That's it baby, driving me fucking crazy" he grinds his hips up into you, unlocking a feeling of bliss that leads you to errupt into pornographic moans, your hand flings to muffle them, eyes rolling back into your skull,
Jungkook is making love to you, letting you reach a state you would not have been able to imagine, not even in the slightest when all you have ever felt are your fingers hastily, uncoordinated on your bundle of nerves. still, he can feel you´re holding back, afraid to be loud- to take up space, but he's having none of it
"Dont be embarrassed sweet girl, you sound addicting, so cute, give me every little noise" sinful sensuality floods you with his encouragement, "gonna make you cum for me, deserve it don't you think?" you don't- in fact, you can't think, long gone into pleasure while his hips piston into you from below,
he slaps your clit gently, your walls clench from how good that feels, "i asked you something baby" he repeats, distracted by your droopy eyes that threaten to shut him out at any moment, "answer me sweet thing, do you deserve to cum hm?" he taunts, rutting his hips with a slower but harder motion, force that hits your g-spot- reels you back into the moment, you head moves frantically "yes, yes please i need to cum"
Jungkook groans in satisfaction, "that's right.. best little cunt, all mine" he goes back lapping at your chest, licking his way to any patch of skin that your addictive smell lurs him to- he feels all over your skin, sneaking his fingers to where your bodies morph into one so he can draw tight circles on your clit, stimulating you to cry out his name,
"Jungkook.. i- i can't stop it i-" you stutter, thighs tensing around him, the feeling is so overwhealming that you can't keep your head up, can't warn him more than that since you're already letting your dew sprinkle out- letting the shocks roll over your body
"just like that.. make a mess on my cock baby, you did so well, come for me" he rasps, his heavy balls release into your tightness at the thought that crosses his mind- the knowledge that he had made you orgasm, that your virginity belonged to him solely,
It embraces the both of you, fills you with a sense of euphoria that none of you wish to end
As the high washes over you, you break out into a small shudder, aware of his milky cum that splurts your walls white, aware of the oversensitive area between your legs that jungkook's fingers slowly stop touching, landing to your unstable and sore thighs instead.
his heavy breathing is woven into yours, contrasting how slowly, lazily he manages to caress your naked skin, finding comfort in your warm body
the small whisper of his name catches him off guard, he hums, pulling back to cup your face, "are you okay my love? feel good?" his eyes rank over your tired features, glowing before his very own eyes,
"so okay. I love you" you breathe out, pressing a kiss to his button nose,
"I love you too baby, so proud of you" his nose nuzzles against yours, "you were so so good"
your shy giggle lights up his face like it always does, "thank you.. for taking my virginity... felt so good" you mumble with your bottom lip tucked away between your teeth- it awakens his soft- still nestled cock, his hands grip your ass- feeling the flesh spill beneath his fingers "thank you for your trust baby, but god, you're gonna make me lose it" jungkook says into your neck, nose tracing the delicate line of your shoulder,
"why? is it too much?" unbeknownst to you, Jungkook rolls his eyes in annoyance, how could you be so fucking adorable?
"Let me show you why" he answers, making your head perk up a little,
"Wanna lay down for me pretty? I can give you another one, as many as you want. You deserve it, wanna spoil you, fuck i wanna give you everything you want" faintly audible as he's speaking into your skin, having already laid you down onto the cold cushions of his unreasonably expensive leather couch.
#redcherrykook#jungkook fanfic#jeon jungkook#jungkook x reader#jungkook x y/n#jungkook x you#jungkook smut
6K notes
·
View notes
Text
✰ 03. the ballad of a bygone blight.
✰ ꒰ ⍣'ˎ˗ platonic yandere batfam / spider! reader ꒱
✰ 03. each coin can be flipped twice.
SYNOPSIS : being spidey isn't easy. being transported into an alternate universe where you're nothing but a shadow in your house, makes sneaking around a little easier... until you find yourself the apple of their eye... kind of.
note: you guys don't know true pain until you have to copy and paste each individual paragraph into a new draft because you forgot how tumblr drafts work </3
n e ways getting into the batfams characterisation yipiieeeee . i tried to incorporate overthinking into tims part realistically bc that's lowkey how i overthink things but hey. im open to respectful criticism. ive also been consuming a lot of batfam media and i tried to my take on their guilt and how it plays into the crazy thing hagaashhaha im going insane fml
prev. ✰ masterlist ✰ next.
You'd always been far too normal. That's what had driven you, all these years, to such a bitter nature. It wasn't like you'd done anything wrong—you'd done everything a regular person would do, and that was the problem.
This kind—your kind—of normality was impossible for a family like yours.
Impossible for them to understand. Relate to. See. Always falling behind, watching as their costumes and capes flutter in the wind, blowing their vision of you. Too wrapped up in the latest villain to spot the regularity in their life.
You'd wake up at 8am, eat a slice of toast with yoghurt and mixed berries—do pilates, and go on with your day.
(Your family would stay up till 8, fighting the crime that riddled the Gotham streets with an iron fist—sneaking out of the house to play dress up with a bunch of mentally insane criminals.)
You'd spend your nights at home, having done everything you'd needed to that day—lazing around with a comic book in hand.
(Your family were far too busy most nights at Arkham—preventing their hundredth breakout and the spread of fear toxin.)
You'd watch, pupils dilated as your siblings, your father came home bruised, beat, and bloodied (with whose blood—you could only guess).
You'd watch in agonising silence as they'd shoo you off after you'd peek from behind their doorframe—saying this kind of work wasn't suitable for eyes like yours.
Those same eyes dimmed that day—staring blankly into nothing as the sight of that sickening crimson red became more common to you, with each passing day.
Dripping down onto the ground—you'd never be able to get rid of that blood. No matter how hard you scrubbed the floorboards, there would always be that stain of red.
You'd grip the sheets—nails digging into mesh fabric—with a steel-knuckled hold. You'd draw what it would be like to be one of them. That same blood-red suit—yet with a different kind of venom to a bat.
Crawling up a water spout—you, the spider—were washed out by the bitterness enrapturing your heart that was once full and blooming like the most beautiful of gardens.
Venom drips from your fangs and yet left unbitten. Never poisoning anything but your own tongue.
To be overlooked and unseen with the most brilliant mind a god could conjure; the world, your family—may never love a spider, but you will find somebody, someday, who will.
Tim Drake was not used to that expression on your face.
... Actually—he wasn't really used to any expression on your face. For a moment, it felt more like a blur to him than anything. Memories of you—they were few and far between.
Except that look of pity you'd always seem to give them. The image appeared in his mind suddenly, for whatever odd reason. That sad, almost puppy-ish, expression that he'd never really given a second thought.
(Though—it made you appear more of a baby to him.)
Perhaps he'd just gotten used to it. After all this time, what could've possibly changed?
He was wrapped up with something strange given to him by Bruce when he'd seen you. A strange, web-like substance—he was just getting ready to study it when it dissolved like nothing were ever there.
Like silk, it was soft. Like glue, it was sticky. Like fibers, it was stringey. Yet—after just a few hours, it was as if it never existed. Like it were nothing but a bad dream.
Bruce and Damian talked about it like it were a spiderweb—fitting, considering the hero that wielded it, they described as looking more arachnid than human.
Regardless—his mind was already frazzled and buzzing with all kinds of thoughts. Spider. Spider Web? Spider.
Where is that fucking web?
The stress crawls under his skin like bugs and he itches. The red left over is so familiar to him—but perhaps never the same at all.
(That same red you'd seen with those big, glassy eyes—unlike that motionless gaze you'd give him sparingly. If he bled again, would you look at him kindly like that once more?)
Then, a shoulder crashes into his. Hard. Enough to almost knock the vial out of his hands. The frustration is just about to bubble over—the words crawling up his throat like bile and his chest tightens with that familiar burst of rage.
(Tim, crash-out, Drake—Steph called him once.)
But he stops.
It's only you.
Why are you here? Aren't you supposed to be at school? He hadn't been to school in a while—being a vigilante leaves a guy's schedule pretty packed—but he's sure...
"[name]? What are you doing here? Isn't it school hours...?" He asks, curiously.
You blink, face blank. He can't get a read on that face. He simply can't decipher it. It bothers him more than it probably should've. "I felt sick, so I decided to come home. Still a bit frazzled from... you know."
His heart beats faster. What? You went to school? You really went to school?
(Even if he realised it beforehand, it's like the shock runs through him again. What's wrong with him?)
You went to school even though you were shot a few days ago? Did that really happen? Did he... not realise? He's supposed to know this stuff, isn't he? Isn't he the smart one? Doesn't he keep tabs on everybody? Doesn't he look at you?
A cold chill fills his body, and he bites down hard on the inside of his cheek. Before he can stop himself, the words spill.
"...Bruce is going to be worried. You know how he feels when you and Damian skip."
You glance to the side, considering something. He wants to know. Will you tell him? He feels like he knows nothing about you anymore. It's dehibilitating.
Since when have you brushed them off so easily? You were never like this before. You used to preen at a simple headpat (not from him—but you seemed to especially love your two oldest brothers) and practically glow when somebody talked with you.
"I think I'll live. Bye." You shrug.
His heart nearly beats out of his chest. What? Why are you acting like this? Don't you care?
Why are you acting like you hate it? You hate them? You don't care? What's wrong with you?
Did you get a concussion when you were shot? Did you hit your head and forget everything? Did you lose your mind after getting lead poisoning? Is this even you? What happened when you were shot?
Every possible question excluding—what has he done?
The bullet he saw in your shoulder flashes in his mind. When Jason practically kicked the door down, carrying your heavily breathing body bridal style and yelling for Bruce to get his ass over here.
Why were you out in the first place? Why weren't you at home? What happened to you? Why were you shot? What could you have done?
He had no time to think about it before. Not when he was so busy, and Riddler was causing up a stir.
Now, he is crumbling.
You're walking away, but his vision shakes. He feels like he's going to crumble. He hates it. This feeling. The feeling of knowing he simply just can't figure this out. He's mad. At you, or himself—he isn't quite sure. Perhaps a mix of both.
Why have you changed? Why did he not realise? Had you even changed? Did he ever know you?
He nearly crushes the vial in his grip. His hand reaches out, to grasp you. Your shoulder. The bullet lodged deep within you. Maybe if he got rid of it, you'd go back. To normal. You'd be your normal self again.
He feels it so deeply.
That crippling, nihilating urge to—
He stops. Watching you walk away. Fast. So fast. He can't catch up. No amount of training could've allowed him to walk alongside his little sibling.
Perhaps he found himself caught in that spider's silky trap—bound and unmoving as he just couldn't seem to tear his eyes away.
The empty vial doesn't concern him much anymore. He stares at it with eyes as hollow as the glass is.
Tim wonders when everything changed.
Dick Grayson watched your convulsing body with shaking eyes. A bullet lodged in your shoulder and crimson dripping onto the ground in a sickening rhythm. He couldn't reach out. He couldn't have touched your face. Not when Jason held you like that. Like a guard dog. His bloody helmet slamming to the ground just for Dick to see the absolute fury on his little brother's face.
Pupils blown—Dick knows what's going on. Better than any of the rest of them, he'd even go as far as to say. He's manic. Absolutely manic. Shouting and yelling for anyone—asking what Bruce was doing, letting you out alone this late. What he was fucking expecting.
Nobody speaks. Nobody can. What could they possibly say? That they didn't notice? That nobody did?
Jason might have taken them all on in your honour if he had truly said those words out loud. He always would've, even if he never stayed for long.
Dick almost wants to sock Jason in the face for keeping you away, so close to his own heart.
(He would've done the same, if only he had you. If only you would let him.)
The only thing he can see in his brothers' arms is that child who used to hide in the most obvious of spots. Crouching behind that large TV with the tips of their hair peeking out. Who used to laugh so gleefully when everyone pretended they couldn't find them.
He sees you, and nearly falls over.
Dick Grayson isn't a stranger to blood. Blood had followed his footsteps wherever he goes. He is made of the blood of everyone he lost and fears to lose.
He didn't think you'd fit into the former so quickly.
(You never thought you were either—did you?)
He can't do anything when he sees Jason carry you out. Slipping into a car with Bruce and Alfred and driving off, far past the speed limit.
He is powerless to move. He is useless. As he was when he watched his parents fall. When he was held back by Bruce when he found that vile man.
He hadn't felt like this for a long, long time.
He was the perfect one. He was the best of them. The first. Everything Batman was supposed to be. Nightwing. Robin. Doing everything he could to be what Bruce wanted.
He was the perfect one.
What use was that when your blood stains the hardwood floors?
What use was him not remembering what you looked like until this moment? The only time he'd ever seen you was when a bullet was lodged in your shoulder, and your body was practically convulsing.
... This should never have happened.
You were always the normal one. The most regular. Never tainted by the horrors of Gotham. Bright. Kind. Your eyes were always so kind. Pitiful. You'd always pity them. Wanting to help, but how could he possibly let you?
How could he possibly let you see the shattered expression on his face each time he'd seen you hurting? (Even if it was you hurting for them.)
You never should've...
He stops his own train of thought.
Why were you out, anyway? Hadn't you known how awfully terrible Gotham is at night?
Hadn't he... warned you...?
Dick walks off, eyes following his retreating figure—he can't find it within himself to care. He storms upstairs—almost frantically.
Everything is so quiet. Nobody here. Nobody waiting here like there usually is.
Where you usually are. The end of the hallway. It's brighter over here. The windows more open. The floorboards more bleached by the sun than back where his childhood room used to be.
He almost kicks the door open when his sweaty hands can't get a good grip on the doorknob.
(He can't. He can't destroy the barrier between you both, no matter how hard he tries.)
It slips open, eventually. Dick takes in the sight, silently, eyes darting around.
There's dust littering the air, highlighted by glittering light. The glow of the sun pours into your room like molten honey. Shining down onto your carpet.
There is nothing else.
Your room is so empty. If he didn't know better, he'd thought this were a guest room. Scuffed—but suitable for a short visit nonetheless.
How long have you stayed here?
Dick tries to ignore the bleakness that fills his head when he tries to answer his own question.
He can't bring himself to step inside. Not without you there. He stands in the doorway, as lost as he felt when he world came crashing down with that tightrope.
He feels like a little kid all over again. As helpless as a little kid is in this world.
As helpless as you were.
As helpless as you are.
Your face looked like a blur for all these years. Lingering in the background, but never for long. His nails dig into the calloused flesh of his palm. Hardened from years of fighting, protecting all he cared about. All those he failed to protect before.
He didn't do anything, did he? Not for so long. For as long as Jason died, was it?
... How long was that?
He wasn't sure when you slipped from his mind. So caught up with those beside him—he hadn't seen you slip behind, silently.
That little kid, staring up with tearful eyes. Asking where Jason was. Asking when they could all play together again.
Behind the capes, the masks—behind him, there was you.
Dick would've fallen over if he hadn't caught himself on the doorframe.
How could he have possibly, ever let you out of his sight? How can he stand to look at you when he let this happen? The most regular thing in his life. Something he had never given a second glance.
His chest hurts with a white-hot pain that stings his entire nervous system.
The best of them all—it was never him. It was always you, wasn't it?
The one keeping him grounded was you—he feels like his heart can't beat properly. Clutching it hard, nothing works. The ache stings, but nothing feels worse than his mind spiralling with thoughts of you laying in a hospital gown with red seeping out your side.
He will never, ever let something like this happen to you again.
Dick will let you know you'll never need to worry about anything again as long as your favourite big brother is here.
taglist: @hello-bina @cosmosluckycharms @1abi @yhin-gg @insideoutjulie @bluepanda08 @omnivirgo @vanessa-boo @dind1n @welpthisisboring @lunaetiicsaystuff @marsmabe @atanukileaf @findingjaxx @4mrplumi @bunniotomia @lostsomewhereinthegarden @bat1212 @gaychaosgremlin @bongwaterflavoredgatorade @randomlyappearingartist @cxcilla @spidermanluvr444 @cruzerforce4256 @mybones537 @xjesterxjacksx @nirvanaxx1942 @djpuppy-kittens @br33zy-blizzardz @moon0goddess @0sunnyside01 @mei-simp @redsakura101 @the-dumber-scaramouche @wizzerreblogs @lovemiss-vale @deathbynarcisstick @allycat4458 @wonmyheart @luckyangelballoon @one-piecelover @hartwyrm @horror-lover-69 @maria-trisha @4rachn3 @galaxypurplerose @duskeras @coffeeaddictxd @lithiumval @kaz-playz
if you asked to be on the taglist but aren't there, make sure your account is able to be tagged and ask me again!!!
#🧸✰ the ballad of a bygone blight#platonic yandere batfam#yandere batfam x reader#yandere dc x reader#yandere batfam#platonic yandere batfam x reader#platonic batfam x reader#platonic batfam#yandere batfam x neglected reader#batfam x neglected reader#batfam x reader#batman x reader#bruce wayne x reader#nightwing x reader#dick grayson x reader#yandere jason todd#jason todd x reader#red hood x reader#tim drake x reader#damian wayne x reader#cassandra cain x reader#dc x reader#neglected reader#spider reader#© iliverae 2025 !
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
nishimura riki 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚
₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ in which you underestimate how clingy your boyfriend actually is, he loves cuddling and kissing you sm :(
genre: FLUFF, fluff and more fluff pairing: bf!riki x fem!reader wc: 1.4k
masterlist 𖤐.ᐟ

it wasn't your first time sleeping over at riki's place. at this stage in your relationship it had become almost routine, you were able to walk around his apartment as if it were your own.
you were currently in the bathroom, just having finished showering. it wouldn't be unusual for you and riki to shower together, however he insisted on doing the dishes left over from dinner while you got the shower all to yourself.
the soft fabric of his shirt felt even better against your skin after you'd cleaned yourself. his smell immediately enveloped you, leaving your lips curled upwards in a smitten smile. why bring your own pjs when you could just wear his clothes? you hummed along to the faint song playing from your phone as you grabbed your toothbrush and got to work.
about a minute had passed, you were so immersed in brushing your teeth and listening to the music that you barely registered a pair of strong arms wrapping around your waist slowly. your head shot up, only to see riki's tall frame hugging you through the mirror. his face was lazily buried in the crook of your neck, leaving stubborn strands of his hair to tickle your skin.
જ⁀➴ more under the cut!
"ki, i'm busy" you murmured, the words muffled with the toothbrush and toothpaste still in your mouth. you had to lean a bit more forward to reach the sink, since riki had pulled you flush against his chest.
"don't care, missed you" he hummed against your soft skin quietly, he loved how amazing and fresh you smelled after the shower.
you laughed softly in return, you were gone for a maximum of 20 minutes, plus you'd already spent the whole day together. yes, you knew your boyfriend was clingy but somehow it never ceased to surprise you. was this the same man that acted cool and closed off around his friends? you rolled your eyes in endearment, and you knew he'd probably start complaining if he saw it. not like you minded it one bit, you thought his soft demeanour was absolutely adorable. (you don't tell him that, he hates being called cute)
riki tugged at your waist gently, urging you to hurry up without words. "c'mon, stop being impatient" you scoffed and smiled, though he was too busy to listen, distracting himself by kissing your shoulder and neck softly.
the toothbrush was discarded in favour of your skincare products. riki's ears perked up at the sound, finally drawing his attention to what you were doing. his face turned from hopeful to disappointed, were you seriously planning on making him wait even more by putting stupid stuff on your face? not on his watch.
you reached for the first product, but your hand never made it. you let out a surprised yelp as riki picked you up in one swift motion and threw you over his shoulder like you weighed absolutely nothing.
"riki!" you whined in protest, though you knew it was no use. you watched helplessly as he grabbed your phone and strolled out of the bathroom like it was the most normal thing ever. "i need to do my skincare! put me down." you tried sounding firm and strict, but failed comically.
"nah" his grip on your bare thighs was firm, before he practically threw you in his bed. riki didn't waste a second, he climbed in next to you and yanked you against his own body, knowing you might try to escape to finish your nightly routine.
his arms snaked around your waist once again, tight enough that there was no chance of you escaping from him, but also mindful not to hurt you. you groaned, feeling a little irritated that you wouldn't be able to finish your skincare. though it was impossible to stay mad when you looked down and saw your boyfriend cuddling you like you were a damn teddy bear. his long ass legs were now tangled with yours too.
"you're so annoying..." you murmured quietly, your voice lacking any real conviction. the words contrasted with your actions completely as you wrapped your arms around his neck and idly played with strands of his hair.
riki felt like he was in heaven. if it were up to him, you would never leave his bed ever again. he loved the way your small body fit perfectly against his, as if you were made just for him. your skin was soft and warm, making you his personal heater. he could feel every soft rise and fall of your chest, along with the faint sound of your heartbeat.
his hands began to wander mindlessly, slipping under your shirt (his shirt to be precise) to caress the bare skin there. you shivered slightly when you felt his feather light fingers trail down your spine, moving over the curve of your backside and stopping at your thighs to rub them gently.
your unfinished skincare was long forgotten now, all you could focus on was how good his touches felt. it was as if you could feel the love and care behind every single one, even when he was so tired and quiet. you thought your heart might burst from the amount of affection you had for him in this moment.
riki groaned softly when your fingers involuntary tightened in his hair. you removed your hands from his dark locks and cupped his face instead, gently pulling his face up so you could look at him. his messy bangs covered his eyes, but they seemed to be extra round right now as he looked up at you adoringly.
you were no expert on feelings but the look in his eyes made your stomach churn with a sudden rush of butterflies, you swore you could see hearts in his eyes. for a moment you were breathless, just staring at his pretty face.
he slowly inched closer, taking advantage of your distracted state to press his pink lips against yours gently. no matter how many times you kissed, it always made your heart race and your brain feel all fuzzy. his cheeks were warm and soft under your fingers, and time seemed to stop completely around you two.
you weren't sure how much time had passed as you were completely tangled against him, your lips moving each other leisurely. riki's hands wondered yet again, trying to caress and touch as much of your skin as he could, he absolutely adored every inch of you. every time you pulled away a bit for air, he would wait a second at most before diving right back in. the action made you smile against his lips, making your heart beat fast yet again.
minutes later, he pulled away and switched to pressing soft kisses across your face. your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, he didn't leave anything without a gentle smooch. you couldn't help the dumb smile that was plastered on your face, you closed your eyes and quietly let him do as he pleased. one of your hands detached from his cheek to once again stroke his hair.
riki opted to leaning back a little to appreciate your cute face, a faint blush visible on your cheeks. he poked your side lightly to get your attention, making you open and jokingly narrow your eyes at him. "what?"
"nothing. you look pretty." he smirked, hoping to see you become even more flustered, he loved having that effect on you. knowing you were just as affected by him as he was by you.
seeing his smirk, you decided to tease him a little. "i'm gonna go finish my skincare." you announced abruptly and shifted, moving out of his arms as if you were actually about to leave the bed. to nobody's surprise, riki immediately pushed himself up and tugged you right back against him.
"you're not going anywhere, don't even try to leave." he playfully glared at you and pulled you so you were laying under him, caged between his arms.
before you could tease him further, he laid directly on top of you, crushing you with his weight. you let out a groan/laugh and nudged his shoulder, but he wouldn't budge.
"ki! i can't breathe!" you whined, wriggling under him in an attempt to get him to move. unfortunately for you, riki made absolutely no effort to get off you.
"looks like you're having a seizure, i might need to give you mouth to mouth so you don't die." he smirked yet again, and leaned down to kiss you before you could protest or complain.
safe to say, you didn't do your skincare that night. though, feeling his lips against yours was a damn good alternative.
#enhypen#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen x reader#niki nishimura#nishimura riki#enhypen texts#enhypen riki#riki x reader#enhypen niki#ni ki#niki smut#enhypen heeseung#enhypen jay#heeseung#kim sunoo#jungwon#drabble#oneshot#enha x reader#enha#enha imagines#enha fluff#enhypen drabble#sunghoon enhypen#park sunghoon#sunghoon#sunghoon smut#jake enhypen#enhypen jake#jake
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
"Another damn Super."
Shotgun Sally had had her fill of fighting superheroes. Henching used to be easy. Crack some safes, intimidate some people, stand guard at some deals. It's the only skillset she's ever had, and she was happy doing it. She had no interest in moving up - too much paperwork and headache - and going straight was impossible with her record. No, henching was where it's at. Or it used to be. Until those meteor storms a few years ago. People getting superpowers from the radiation. Started wearing costumes. Ridiculous. Comic book stuff. Job hadn't been the same since.
Intel came in. Sally answered the phone, writing down all the info in her notebook as usual. New hero. Contact said she goes by "Miss Fire." Left a calling card, apparently? Stupid name. Basic. Probably young, unsponsored. Hasn't been caught on camera yet, but apparently some deals went bad. Bodies at the scene had third degree burns on their hands and faces. Not one of those no-killers, this one. The name made her easy to figure out. Typical energy projection hero, probably has flamethrower breath or shoots fireballs. You hear it all the time, kid gets some flashy powers, gets full of herself, decides to be a crime fighter. Nobody ever trains the Supers to care about human life. Sally'd never had a reason to kill anybody in her work. Some rounds at the feet usually scares people into compliance. At most she'd take a few teeth or break some bones, but she'd never killed. What was their excuse?
Sally was tense. The contact was late. Deal was supposed to be done by now. That meant something was up. But it wasn't her decision whether they pulled out or not, that was up to the boss. She was watching a rat eat a pizza. Then she heard it. Gunfire, sounds of burning and screaming. "We got a Super!" A nod from the boss, and Sally was off.
Sally darted around a corner. There she was. The kid wasn't exactly what she was expecting. Usually these flashy types are dressed in spandex, or wearing heels (ridiculous), but this one was wearing simple boots and a parka. What confused Sally most of all was the lack of any glowing. Usually with these energy projection heroes you could tell what bodypart their powers came from by a residual glow, especially if they'd used their powers recently. Nothing around the throat or the hands.... In fact, her hands weren't even out. They were in her pockets. She looked totally relaxed. Was this not the hero?
Sally leveled her shotgun. She was about twenty paces away. Standard procedure with heroes was to keep your distance, in case they have melee powers. But she was more than close enough to turn the girl into a cheese grater if need be. She had to find out if this was the hero or not. Sally always preferred the direct approach. "Miss Fire, I presume?"
"That's me," the girl replied. Her face was blank. "You don't wanna be pointing that thing at me."
The girl's candor was annoying. "I believe I do. See I've been hearing about you hurting my people. I can't have that."
"They shot first. It wasn't on me."
"I'm gonna give you one chance to get out of here. It's past your bedtime."
"Make me."
Alright, that was enough talking. Sally couldn't tell if this kid had powers or what, but there was only one way to find out. Sally switched her shotgun to a low-spread mode and aimed between the girl's feet. If this wasn't the Super, this would scare her off. If she IS the Super... well, whatever happens happens.
Sally almost missed it. In a swift motion, the girl took her hands out of her pockets and opened both at Sally as if to reach out to her. Sally's reflexes kicked in, throwing herself to the ground to dodge the oncoming fireball or laser beam or whatever it was. But nothing came. The girl was just standing there, with her arms out. She looked like an idiot. Sally got up. "Of all the... what the hell do you think you're doing? I could've shot you."
The girl seemed surprised that she hadn't. She looked scared. "Usually they do by now..." she whimpered. She suddenly turned around and started running in the other direction. Sally was stunned. She was about to chase after her, but then she heard a noise she didn't like. Her gun. It was hissing at her. In fact, it was glowing. Alarmed, Sally threw the shotgun away from her as fast as she could. As it collided with the ground, it exploded into a ball of purple and blue flames.
Sally sat on the ground, watching the smoking remains of her favorite gun. She took her notebook out, and flipped to the info about the new hero. She crossed out "Miss Fire" and wrote "Misfire" under it.
"I hate Supers."
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Killer
Dark! Bully! Rafe Cameron x Fem! Reader
Warnings: NON CON, SMUT, rough sex, manhandling & degradation, choking, breeding kink, bullying, violent & abusive behavior, Mean! Rafe, Bully! Rafe…
A/N: Sorry for disappearing, I’ve just had a shit ton of family problems. I hope I can update a bit faster from now on! ALSO lmk if you want this to become a series! 💕
A laugh, dripping with mockery, echoed through the vast room, sparking a ripple of chuckles and whispered insults from the nearby group of boys.
Rafe Cameron’s body stretched lazily in the chair, making it seem almost comically small under his heavy frame. Even with his limbs sprawled out in complete relaxation, the outline of his hard muscles pressed against his shirt, as if daring to break free at any moment. You couldn't deny he looked attractive, exuding an undeniable magnetism in that confident, almost predatory pose, his new buzz cut only amplifying the arrogance that oozed from him. But that ugly, smug smirk? It made your bones ache and your throat dry up in ways you couldn’t explain.
His eyes, the color of storm clouds, lingered on yours with a deliberate intensity, delighting in your discomfort, relishing in every flinch and subtle shift of your gaze. You turned away, hoping your disinterest would bore him eventually, but you knew it wouldn’t.
No matter how hard you focused on the lecture, his presence was like an intrusive, constant drill on your brain—his burning gaze a distraction that gnawed at your senses. How naive had you been to think he'd ever leave you alone? Every time you raised your hand in class, you could count on him to whisper some stupid joke under his breath. How foolish had you been to think he would ever stop tormenting you? This sick dynamic between you two had been a game since childhood, and if anything, he seemed to thrive on it.
His once-small fingers had grown long and strong -now covered in silver rings. Those same digits that used to tangle on your hair and pull from it until your scalp burned in pain. His legs were now far longer, but they had always been longer than yours, outpacing you as they chased you through the school halls in all infant and adolescent years, always with the aim of making you stumble and fall to your knees. But his mouth had never changed. It had only sharpened, evolving into something far more dangerous.
You’d convinced yourself you were above all of it. Charleston had felt like a fresh start, and you’d thought the Pogue curse might finally be something you could outrun. But when Rafe Cameron showed up once more, everything you’d built: your confidence, your peace of mind—began to crumble, piece by piece, until there was nothing left but the raw, unresolved tension between you.
You were studying to be a teacher, the first in your family to receive a scholarship that promised a brighter future. Your days were filled with lesson plans, textbooks, and the weight of academic expectation. Every second of your time was accounted for as you worked tirelessly to carve out a new path for yourself, one that didn't involve being brought back to the past or the memories of him. You didn’t have time for distractions, certainly not for him. But here he was, always lurking just at the edges of your life, a dark cloud you couldn’t escape.
Rafe was studying for an MBA, the complete opposite of you, and yet fate had forced you into a shared class. You would’ve done anything to avoid him, but trapped in between those fours walls, mere meters away from him - it just seemed impossible.
And there he was, at your left, staring with a look of sick pleasure every time he found you trying to focus. His presence was suffocating, like the air itself became dense with his attention. His words, the snide remarks whispered under his breath, were like a weight on your chest, making every breath harder to take.
He harassed you constantly in that class—every. single. time. Without fail. No matter how much you tried to bury yourself in your notes, no matter how hard you tried to ignore his mocking chuckles, his eyes always found you, always zeroed in on your every move. He’d challenge you with pointless questions, make stupid comments about your work, his voice dripping with condescension. But it didn’t stop there. His reach extended beyond the classroom, following you into the hallways, his tall frame casting a shadow that would make your stomach turn. He would appear out of nowhere, as though drawn to you by some sick fixation, and make his presence known with a smirk or a taunt, forcing you to look up from your books, to meet those stormy eyes full of wickedness.
He would ‘accidentally’ bump into you, making your school supplies fall over. He licked his lower lip when you bent over to pick the mess up. His front would get dangerously close to your back in any queue, sometimes getting bold enough to grind slightly against you. He would move you around like a rag doll, always putting his huge palm on your ass to push you to the side. Still, there was nothing as uncomfortable as having his dirty eyes scanning you from head to toe at any given time - he licked his lower lip in amusement, making your cheeks grow hotter.
You’d always hoped, prayed, that once the class ended, he’d disappear—vanish into his own world and leave you to yours. But you were wrong. Every time the teacher dismissed you, and you gathered your things to leave, he’d be right there, waiting. It was like clockwork. His long, strong fingers would slide into the pockets of navy trousers, the scent of his manly cologne wafting over you in an intoxicating way. His gaze would follow you as you tried to make a clumsy exit, his footsteps closing the distance between you with every passing second. You hated that you could never outrun him. Hated how he always found a way to corner you.
And just as you thought you might make it out of the door, safe, free—he’d appear at the threshold, standing in your way with that damn smirk of his, a look that seemed to promise nothing but trouble.
“Leaving so soon?” His voice would slither through the air like poison.
Your heart would pound in your chest, but you’d force your eyes to look anywhere but at him, hoping and praying, that maybe, just maybe, today would be the day he’d leave you alone. But you knew better. You always knew better.
And now, you could feel it again; the familiar pressure of his presence, creeping closer, dark and inevitable.
“What’s that I’ve heard?” He scratched his head while pressing his brows together, pretending to be deep in thought. “…Oh, right” Now, enlightened; he stepped forward. Your almost wobbly legs did their best on distancing themselves -though, they weren’t allowed much movement after hitting a desk.
The back of your knees stung against the protruding piece of wood. “You tryna leave…study abroad, right?” Your eyes peeled in horror, and you hid in yourself as much as you could when his tall frame overpowered yours. “No, no. Look me right in the eye.” He clicked his tongue in disapproval. Without any hesitation, his cold rings found their place under your chin, burying in your skin when lifting up your face. “How-how do you know?” Your stuttering made him smile -predatory grin adorning his harsh features. “Everyone thinks you’re smart…” The pain on your neck amplified at the uncomfortable position.
“…But I think you’re just a dumb bitch.” He spat at you. Tone as rough as the domineering grip on your jaw. “…Bragging left and right - you really thought I wouldn’t find out?” He shook you with erratic movement. The pain you felt under his digits distracted you from a perverted knee slowly opening its way between your legs.
His unruly eyes took a break from tormenting yours as he admired your skirt’s fabric draping over your thighs. The blond snob flashed you his hungry canines while biting into his lower lip.
The horror only amplified when a sharp thrust attacked your clothed sex. His impatient knee continued to roughly rub against the cotton underwear, cruelty reflected on the fast pace. “Ha. Would you look at that? The dirty slut is getting wet!” You whined in disgust when Rafe pressed harder on the soaked circle.
The scarce dignity you thought you held was harshly stripped from you. On his arms you were nothing but a squeaky toy he got to bite and squeeze whenever he desired, and little by little you felt victim to a raw resignation.
The next thing you sensed was his palm abandoning your neck and moving onto your meaty thighs. He gave the flesh a squeeze, followed by a lusty groan leaving his pinkish lips.
Your mind tried to wander away, but the situation was just too much; too much stimulation everywhere, too much heat coming from his larger body, too much degradation directed your way in mean words and touches, too much torturous pressure applied to your virgin cunt and too much pawing at your unexplored parts.
The next thing your brain registered was a rip. The sound of something being torn apart, and if you didn’t see the light fabric pooling around your feet, you could’ve almost swear it was the noise your spirit made when breaking in half. “And I was thinking about making it nice for you…fucking you on a bed of roses or some corny shit.” He talked with nothing but mockery, while leaning onto your chest. “But I guess you prefer it when I treat you like a cheap whore.” The Cameron boy finished it off with a chuckle, his muscles flexing hard under the rumbling laugh.
You wanted to contradict him, defend your honor and pull him off of you, but all protests got stuck in your throat when he took you by it and slammed your upper body against the desk. The rigid wood wasn’t welcoming. Your head spinned uncontrollably at the beast-like hit.
The lack of oxygen didn’t stop you from hearing him unbuckling his pants. Panic grew louder as you heard his clothes falling to the Classroom’s floor. Worries clouded you in a tumultuous storm, and you did your best to cover yourself up when the only layer covering your vulnerable hole was pushed to the side. “Open your fucking legs or I’ll break your useless skull!” He demanded in a crazied tone, ripping your limbs apart and throwing them over his shoulders.
“Please, don’t.” Your eyelids squeezed together, shielding your irises from looking at the violating scene. “That’s right, beg me” Warm breath imposed itself above your slit, followed by a warmer liquid dripping down your folds. “Gotta make it wetter…I don’t want you breaking at the first use.” Even though your sight was all black, you could imagine his satisfied grin decorating that diabolically handsome face.
You tried pulling away when a foreign limb rubbed against your sex, desperate to be let in. “Rafe, no-” You were cut short by your own screams, eyes peeled open at the feeling of his cock entering all at once.
“Fuck! Tight ass pussy.” He sounded in heaven, palms manhandling your knees to your chest while pounding ruthlessly into you.
The rest of your body went numb, being rocked up and down at the bestiality of the boy’s attack. His groans and moans overpowered your miserable sobs. Your withering form contrasted his blessed expressions, pure passion exuding from his now sweaty body.
“Your whorish cunt is squeezing the shit out of me…she doesn’t want me to leave!” He continued to talk while creating some deeply loud wet noises.
Your neck and waist’s skin burned under his cutting rings and the unsolicited friction of his grip that kept you still. Your ears got lost at the multiple pet names he called you, as well as the dirty sentences of encouragement he occasionally threw your way.
After almost an hour of feeling him impale you on his dick, you grew tired of screaming and crying, now reduced to quiet whimpers and even quieter pleas. “Stop-” He did the opposite to that, toned pelvis slapping hard against you as his tip bruised your cervix in persistent thrusts.
The cries that left your esophagus were now primal and raw, long nails holding onto his huge back. “That’s right, cry for me. You fucking deserve it!” That only made the tears fall faster down your cheeks, reaching your mouth on a salty taste.
And when his movements finally went sloppy and his member felt softer, your suffering only sharpened. “Tell me you love me” He barked at your face, drops of unintentional spit hitting your distressed face.
You thought you heard wrong, that between his chocking, and suffocating weight your brain had imagined the unimaginable. “Tell me you love me!” His features tensed, making a vein pop on his front.
Was Rafe Cameron asking for words of affirmation from you? Was the same guy who just butchered your purity asking you for your heart? Or was it just another inhumane prank? Another limit of yours he wanted to cross?
Clearly you took to much time thinking and not acting because the next thing you felt was the blond burying impossibly deeper into your core and making you know a new level of uncomfortability. “Tell me you fucking love or I’ll come inside you.” The light on the room was vast, you were sure of it. Such an elite university could only have the best illumination for its elitist students; still, his burly body completely covered yours.
His sharp jaw and eyes were enhanced by the darkness found in his stare. “I-” He trembled lightly in excitement at your shaky voice. “I love you.” You finally decreed, unknowingly sealing your fate.
His smile was like nothing you saw before, too devilish and twisted you actually doubted smiling was ever a nice gesture. And when you felt a dense liquid flooding your womb in overwhelming warmth, you swore you could see the devil in his eyes.
.
.
.
#dark!rafe cameron#dark rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#dark!rafe x reader#dark rafe x reader#rafe cameron x you#dark content#dark fanfiction#tw dark content#tw noncon#tw.noncon#dark obx#dark fic#bully Rafe#tw bullying#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#rafe smut#obx smut#tw dacryphilia#rafe fic#rafe x you
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Pussydrunk ⸺ Choso Kamo



author's note ⸺ Saw some crazy Choso art this morning and I know that the world can always use more Choso smut...so enjoy. Also yes-he does thank you for your pussy... pairing ⸺ Choso Kamo x reader teaser ⸺ '"You let out a breathy laugh and tilted your head slightly at him, “You’re thanking me? For letting you eat me out?” Choso gave you a goofy little grin, his face still buried in your legs as he responds with exaggerated sincerity. “Of course..."' content ⸺ 18+ SMUT, MDNI, pussydrunk choso, he is OBSESSED, cunnilingus, shy emo boy turned feral, oral sex (reader recv.), choso is such a nice boy he thanks u for ur pussy, he lovesss to eat you out but let a guy have hobbies!! overstimulation, reader has a vagina, reader uses female pronouns

materlist || request guidelines || commissions || fic image artist ||

Choso is perfect. Too perfect—really.
Your sweet, soft-spoken, emo boyfriend who always knows exactly what you need. The one who texts you to remind you to drink water, gets you your favourite snacks even when you don’t ask, and holds your hand like it’s the most sacred thing in the world.
He’s calm, attentive, and gentle—everything anyone could want in a partner.
But there’s something about him—a hidden streak that surfaces only when you’re alone.
And only when he’s between your legs.
It’s almost comical how the man who blushes when you tease him in public—who can’t take compliments without fumbling for words, turns into someone so utterly unrestrained when he’s got his face buried in your cunt.
Your shy, sweet Choso becomes something else entirely. Feral. Hungry. Completely pussydrunk.
It’s not just a casual thing for him—it’s a fixation, a need.
The way his pupils blow wide whenever you start to undress or the way his hands unconsciously flex when you shift your legs apart? He’s thinking about it. How soft you’d feel, how warm and wet and impossibly sweet? Yep, he’s thinking about it…and he never tries to hide it.
It starts so innocently every time, just like it had tonight, his long fingers brushing your thighs as he kisses your inner knees.
He whispers something tender, something like, “You’re so beautiful,” as his lips trace paths closer to where you’re desperate for him.
His words always make your cheeks flush, but before you can respond, he’s dipping his head lower, brushing his nose along the seam of your panties.
You let out a quiet gasp, hips twitching when his tongue flicks out to trace the damp fabric.
“Already wet for me,” he says, and there’s something darker in his tone now—a hint of what’s to come.
He hooks his fingers into the waistband, sliding your underwear down your legs with deliberate slowness, and his breath catches when you’re finally bare before him.
Then the first taste hits his tongue, and that’s it—Choso’s gone.
Your thighs barely get the chance to press around his head before his hands grip your hips, pulling you closer, deeper, so he can bury his face in your pretty cunt.
The first press of his tongue against your folds makes your back arch off the bed.
Choso groaned like he’s the one being pleasured, and the sound vibrated against you, drawing a soft cry from your lips. His hands tighten on your hips, pulling you closer, and he buries his face in you like a man starved.
He alternates between teasing your clit with quick flicks of his tongue and plunging it back inside you, each movement pulling a new, breathless whimper from your lips.
The soft squelch of his mouth working on you made your thighs twitch, but Choso didn’t stop.
If anything, he groans louder, the sound reverberating through your core as his tongue dips back down to your entrance. He licks into you slowly, savouring the way you tighten around the soft, wet muscle.
You try to push him back once you’re trembling, overstimulated from his relentless attention, but Choso isn’t having it.
“Just once more,” he breathed against your skin, dark eyes flicking up to meet yours. They’re glassy, unfocused—completely drunk on you. “Please, baby. Can’t stop. You taste so good.”
And how could you say no to that? To the way he’s looking at you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters? He is just so damn pretty. I–
His hands roam your thighs, holding them open as he devours you, sucking your clit between his lips and humming with satisfaction every time you cry out.
When your fingers thread into his hair, pulling hard enough to make him hiss, he only doubles down, tongue thrusting into your heat like he’s trying to memorize every inch of you.
“Fuck,” he groans, pulling back just enough to catch his breath. His lips and chin are coated in your arousal as he looks up at you with his dark hooded eyes—absolutely pussydrunk.
He looked wrecked—flushed cheeks, mussed hair, chest heaving like he’s the one who just came—and yet, he’s still leaning forward, nuzzled against your thigh, leaving lazy kisses like he can’t help himself.
“You okay?” You’d ask, voice shaky, and his lips curl into a sheepish smile as he rests his cheek on your leg.
“More than okay,” he murmured, pressing a kiss just above your knee. “You’re perfect. Thank you for letting me do this baby..”
You let out a breathy laugh and tilted your head slightly at him, “You’re thanking me? For letting you eat me out?”
Choso gave you a goofy little grin, his face still buried in your legs as he responded with exaggerated sincerity. “Of course. You’re like... a goddess, and I’m just the humble servant here, living the dream.”
You snort at his attempt to be dramatic, your hands running through his messy, dark hair. “Well, I’m glad to know you’re really living right now.”
He peeks up at you, giving you a wink that’s way too cocky for his usual shy self.
“Absolutely. You have no idea how much this means to me,” he says, and you can’t help but giggle at its ridiculousness.
“Choso, you’re so extra sometimes.” You roll your eyes, but it’s obvious you’re enjoying it.
His lips curl into a grin again as he presses another kiss against your inner thigh. “What can I say? I don’t hold back. I’m committed, you know?”
You gave him a raised eyebrow. “Committed, huh? To eating me out?”
Choso nods earnestly. “Yes, baby. To you. This is my true calling.” He lets out a dramatic sigh and presses his face against your leg again like he’s contemplating his life choices.
You laugh out loud at his melodramatic antics, but before you can make another joke, he dives back in, his tongue moving expertly against your clit with a series of teasing strokes.
And that is how you and your cutie-emo-pussydrunk man spent the next few hours…

#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen imagine#jujutsu kaisen#choso kamo#jujutsu kaisen choso#jjk choso#choso smut#kamo choso#choso x reader#choso x you#choso x y/n#choso x reader smut#jujustu kaisen#choso x female reader#choso kamo x reader#choso kamo x you#choso kamo x y/n#jjk oneshot#jjk smut#choso fluff#choso fic#choso kamo smut#choso jjk#choso my beloved#choso kamo x female reader#jjk men x reader#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jjk men#jjk fanfic
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
One Night Stands Only [Jason Todd x GN!Reader]
Summary: It’s obvious Jason only has one night stands - right?
Genre: fluff, tiny bit of hurt/comfort
Word Count: 4,6k
Warnings: none
A/N: Came across the DC Valentine’s special again and… yeah. Decided to do sth about it 💁
If you use any of my works for AI I will hunt you down for sport 😬



“You were right, it’s a nice place.” Bernard nods appraisingly, glancing around the newly opened bookstore, little café situated right in the middle. It’s not a new concept by any means, but the high ceilings and big windows allow the little natural light Gotham has to brighten the entire place and the cozy couches and booths scattered between shelves make for a nice and different respite from what the city usually has to offer. Tim hums in approval as he glances over the menu again. “Yeah; quiet, comfy, good coffee selection. I should thank the person who recommended it.”
“And who was that?” Bernard asks over his shoulder before greeting the girl working the counter and placing their order. Tim’s brows immediately furrow. “It was… I heard about it from… Uhm…” The blonde chuckles as he steers his boyfriend towards a nearby table, eyes flicking towards a corner sofa. “You think it might’ve been your brother?” Tim snorts. “Which one?” He receives a gesture at something behind him as an answer and finds Jason sitting on one of the couches a little further back, book propped open in his lap and a few more stacked on the small, round table in front of him and Tim nods. “Okay, sure, that tracks.” Bernard watches over Tim’s shoulder a few moments longer, then a small smile forms on his face. “I mean, yeah, it is a nice place for a date.”
Tim’s head snaps back around so fast it’s comical, a disbelieving, almost scandalized ‘Date?!’ out of his mouth before he can stop it. Sure enough, someone else has joined his brother, just in the process of placing two cups on the table - or trying to anyways; an almost impossible task with the amount of books already occupying the small space. And while he might not be able to hear either of you, he wouldn’t be part of a family of world class detectives if he couldn’t read lips.
‘Okay, should I just get like, a whole teapot now? How long do you plan on being here?’
‘Eh, not long.’
‘Jay, even you can’t read five books at once.’
‘Watch me.’
A cocky grin and an eyebrow waggle, which earns him an eye roll from the mystery person, albeit attached to a fond smile, followed by a shooing motion to scoot further down the sofa and make space, to which he obliges immediately. Tucked into Jason’s side, his arm coming around your shoulders entirely too naturally as both of you go back to your books, seemingly all settled and content to simply be in the other’s presence like this.
Tim turns back to his boyfriend with brows drawn together, lips pressed into a thin line and fingers tapping his chin in thought - and Bernard knows exactly what that look means. “Tim, switch outta detective mode. Your brother has a date, so what?” But the gears are clearly already turning and not stopping anytime soon. “It’s just… Jason only has one night stands.” It’s a look somewhere between surprise, disbelief and even offense before the blonde speaks up again. “Isn’t that a bit presumptuous? You don’t know if—“ Tim vehemently shakes his head to interrupt him. “No, no, I mean that’s literally what he told me; what he tells anyone from the family who asks, as far as I’m aware.”
Bernard’s eyes move over to the couch again, simply observing for a few seconds before he shrugs. “Well, one night stands don’t exclude a date. Or maybe he’s changed his mind. People are allowed to do that, you know.” he says with an easy grin right as the little round sensor on their table starts vibrating, indicating their order is ready. He snatches the device up and stands, placing a hand on Tim’s shoulder, effectively gaining his attention. “Either way, I don’t think it’s anything for you to lose sleep over. Or any of your business, to be honest. If he is in a relationship and you don’t know, I’m sure he has his reasons.” He grabs the hand Tim has been busy biting the cuticles off of and presses a kiss to his knuckles. “Just let it go, detective.”
With that he’s gone to pick up their drinks, meanwhile Tim almost turns his head to look at the couple again, but ultimately decides against it, instead racking his brain for wether or not any of his other siblings ever mentioned Jason having a partner, but nothing comes to mind. Fingers drumming against the table, he’s one spiraling thought away from getting up and going over there to satisfy the annoying itch of curiosity, but then he watches Bernard walk back towards him, a coffee cup in each hand and a happy smile on his face, his own heart skipping a beat at the sight, and he realizes that his boyfriend’s right. It doesn’t matter right now, nor is it any of his business; if this is someone, important to Jason, he would tell them - in his own time.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Okay I had my doubts, but that was pretty good.” Stephanie states as she stretches her arms over her head, following the crowds out of the theater into the big entrance hall. Cass grins and nods enthusiastically in agreement, while Babs only shrugs and hums in thought. “I mean, sure, it was good; solid storytelling, breathtaking visuals, but—“
“I still think the book’s better, though.”
They all know it’s exactly what the redhead was gonna say, but it doesn’t come from her. Even so, the voice is familiar and all three of their heads snap up almost in unison to look for the source.
A joyful laugh, from around the pillar a little ways in front of them, followed by, “That’s the most Jason thing you could’ve said, ya know.”
Now that voice isn’t familiar to any of them, neither is the person who appears in their field of view a second later, hands linked with someone still hidden by the pillar - not that it’s still much of a secret who it is.
“So? It’s still true.”
The soft grin on the stranger’s face morphs into something more mischievous. “Riiight. I’m sure you hated every second of this. That’s why I saw some tears during a scene or two.”
A squeak as the person gets yanked forward, disappearing from sight again; then laughs can be heard accompanied with, “It was dark, you didn’t see shit.”
The three girls exchange glances, all wide eyes and raised brows. Then they watch the couple walk out into the open of the entrance hall, towards the exit, one of Jason’s arm’s wrapped tightly around your shoulders as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.
Cassandra is the first to shake off the stupor, a soft smile spreading across her face. “They’re cute together.” she signs. “Yeeeaaahhh…” Steph starts, staring at the doors the two had just left through. “Too cute. And definitely too familiar to just be a one night stand.” The wicked grin is a telltale sign of trouble and Barbara pinches the bridge of her nose because it doesn’t bode well for anybody.
“Just leave it alone, Steph.”
“Oh come on!” the blonde complains. “He’s the one who’s been telling us for ages that he doesn’t do relationships and now he’s out here all sweet and cozy and lovey dovey with someone? And you’re not the least bit curious? I say we investigate!”
Barbara levels her with a blank stare. “And you don’t think that might be the exact reason he doesn’t tell us anything?” Stephanie narrows her eyes at the redhead in suspicion. It’s unlike her, unlike Oracle, not to want all the details of a situation. “Did you already know?”
“Whatever gives you that idea?”
“Because you know everything. And wouldn’t you—“
Barbara doesn’t let her finish. “Would you want a date to be interrupted by your siblings just cause they feel like annoying you? Pestering you about your partner? Jason isn’t the most open, conversational person at the best of times; what do you think is gonna happen if he catches onto your little investigation?”
Steph is about to argue back that sure, while there’s some personal entertainment value involved, she just doesn’t like the idea of someone she cares about being with someone she doesn’t know. What if they’re not a good person? What if they end up hurting him? What if—
Her thoughts are interrupted by a hand on her shoulder and she turns to find herself looking straight into Cass’ dark eyes, her expression serious.
“They really like him, don’t meddle.” she signs.
That takes some of the wind out of Stephanie’s sails and she visibly deflates a bit. “You, uh… you could tell, huh?” The black haired girl nods eagerly and Steph runs a hand through her hair in contemplation. People are an open book to Cassandra, without her ever having to have exchanged a single word with them. If she says you’re fine, that you truly like Jason and have no bad intentions, then… then Steph could leave it alone with an easy conscience. For now, anyways.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Thank you for the assist, Master Richard, but I assure you, while welcome, it was not necessary.”
“It’s fine, Alfred.” Dick reassures while loading the last of the groceries into the back of the car. “I know you can handle the regular grocery shopping just fine, but it’s rare to have that many people at once at the manor; I’m glad to help out.”
The older man gives him a grateful smile in return, then plucks a piece of paper from inside his coat pocket and checks it over. “Oh dear, I do believe I’ve missed something.” he mumbles and hands the list over to Dick. “Master Richard, would you mind looking our current purchase over again, just in case? I’ll be right back.”
He watches Alfred hurry back towards the store, someone else exiting when he’s a few feet away from the entrance. A short exchange, quick thanks presumably, as the person holds the door open for him. Then you steer left, in his general direction and—
Hold on. He wasn’t here when him and Alfred got outta the store a few minutes ago.
The parking lot is situated lower than the actual store, some stairs to his right leading up to the higher level, so Dick takes a few steps backwards and cranes his neck back slightly, a leafless hedge partly blocking his view, but the tall, broad stature clad in a leather jacket and the black and white hair are a dead give away. He’s about to call out, surely his brother just didn’t spot him yet, but someone beats him to it.
“Okay, let’s go home.”
The person who’d just left the store. Most definitely talking to Jason. And you seem more than a little annoyed and exasperated.
Meanwhile his brother looks like he’s trying not to burst out laughing.
“What?” the mystery person barks, eyes narrowed at the tall man suspiciously.
“I know I did not just watch you whack an old lady over the head with a magazine cause she tried to take the steak from you.”
“It was the last one!” you complain and the tension bleeds from Dick’s shoulders as he realizes that this is in no way a serious altercation. “Besides, Constance had it coming, not the first time she tried to pull a stunt like that; she’s a fucking menace to everybody.”
Silence for a few long seconds. Then, “If you laugh right now, I swear to God I’m leaving you out on the street tonight, Todd.”
Jason snorts. “And then who’s gonna make the food you fought so hard to get? Sure as shit not you; last time I left you alone with the stove, I thought Firefly had broken into the apartment.”
Dick watches his brother’s conversation partner huff, arms crossed over your chest in defiance as you stare Jason down - until your shoulders sag in defeat and you break eye contact, because apparently, he’s right. “You’re lucky you’ve got other talents besides just being pretty, you know that?”
Jason takes the bags from you, met with only mild complaints, as he grins. “You think I’m pretty? Aw, thanks, babe.” You roll your eyes at that, but there’s a smile tugging at the corners of your lips either way. “Leave the corny flirting to Nightwing, it doesn’t suit you.” And Jason actually has the audacity to scrunch up his face in distaste. “Hey now. I was only teasing you; comparing me to him is a straight up insult, take it back.”
“Make me~” you taunt with a sing-song voice and a mirthful smirk, then take off full speed in the opposite direction, past the store, with Jason hot on your heels not a second later.
And Dick hasn’t seen his little brother wear a smile that big in such a long time, he almost forgets to be offended.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Damian isn’t sure why he’s even here. It’s not like this has any actual academic value for him.
That’s Chrysaora fuscescens.
Over there, Hippocampus hippocampus.
And that one’s Anguilla dieffenbachii.
He’s studied all these creatures and more before and even if he wouldn’t learn anything new about aquatic dwellers, his father had insisted on him going on this field trip. Something about a chance to ‘improve his social skills’.
Tt.
If that’s the mission he’d been given, he’d succeed. Even if he thought it utterly unnecessary. At least he could do it in the presence of one of the most beautiful creatures on the planet, the mighty—
“Shark! Jason, look, there it is!”
With the level of excitement, one would think it’s coming from a child, but no, it’s very much an adult, standing in front of the big glass tank, in the company of Todd of all people. Damian slows his steps to a halt, coming from one of the smaller side entrances that lead to the huge room, and simply observes from a safe distance.
“Uh huh, I see it. And I feel like now would be a good time to remind you that you have plenty of shark memorabilia and that we’ll simply be walking past the gift shop later.”
An inelegant snort, as the person side eyes him with amusement. “Would now be a good time to remind you that we both know that’s not happening?”
Jason pinches the bridge of his nose as he heaves a sigh, but Damian detects no true malice in it. He’s seen him truly irritated, angry - this is nothing of the sort. Fond exasperation, if anything.
“I know they’re nowhere near as dangerous as the media likes to make them out to be,” Jason starts, “but I’m still not sure how you can look at something decidedly dangerous, built for killing, and think it’s… cute.”
The look he receives in return is one Damian can’t quite identify and apparently neither can his brother.
“What?”
“Really? You can’t figure that out?” You cross your arms over your chest and cock your head to the side in thought. “Well, I think you should meet my boyfriend, then. Cause ya know, he’s pretty dangerous and rough around the edges, too, and I still think he’s cute.”
Jason mimics your stance as he responds. “Oh, do you now?”
You nod eagerly, grinning ear to ear. “Of course. When he gets up all groggy with a bed head cause he works late? Cute. When he pretends to get annoyed at his best friend cause he called him a silly nickname? Cute. When—“ That’s as far you get, interrupted by your own squeal, as Jason brings one arm around your shoulders to pull you in and smoosh your face against his chest, the other around your waist so you can’t escape. “Yeah, yeah, got it; I think I’ve heard enough about that guy now.”
Meanwhile you’ve managed to gain enough wiggle room to loop your arms around his neck and pull back to look up at him, lopsided, lovesick smile plastered all over your face. “Sorry, I can’t help it sometimes; I love him very much.” And it’s embarrassing, Damian thinks, how fast Jason breaks, all affectionate grin and soft eyes, just because someone is batting their lashes at him. “Well, he’d be a fool not to love you back.”
Damian turns away in disgust right as the couple is about to share a kiss and retreats down the hallway he came from. He’d never taken Todd for a particularly… honorable man, but courting someone he knows to be in a relationship with someone else? That’s a vile breach of trust that he won’t stand for. And, if he bothered to be honest with himself, not something he could actually see Todd engaging in. Despite his many flaws, he’s proven himself a loyal man often enough. But Damian can’t ignore what he heard with his own ears, that would be disregarding incriminating evidence, so he’ll need to have a talk with his father as soon as he gets home.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You’re curled up on the couch book in hand when the front door all but flies open, your boyfriend hurrying inside and immediately locking the door behind him again. Before you even get a chance to greet him, he’s speeding through the rest of the apartment, making sure all the windows are shut tight and locked, too. You’ve put the book away, instead staring at him over the back of the couch with raised, quizzical brows when he comes back down the hallway into the living room, finally kicking off his boots at the entrance and hanging up his jacket. Then he beelines for the sofa, lifting up your legs to make room and plop himself down, settling your legs in his lap before he tips his head back and scrubs his hands over his face with a groan.
“Okay, Jay? I need you to talk to me; what kind of apocalypse should I be preparing for here?”
He doesn’t answer for a few long seconds, simply drops his hands from his face, his fingers coming to draw anxious patterns into your thighs instead. “Yeah, we’re totally busted. They know about you now.” And as miserable as he looks, as much as you know that spending time with his family is often draining and challenging for him, you can’t help the relieved laugh that bubbles up out of your throat, because with they way he’d just put your apartment on complete lockdown, you’d been expecting something - or someone - way worse.
Still chuckling, you grab one of his hands and squeeze. “Sweetheart, your family literally consists of detectives. In my opinion, we’re damn lucky to have even made it this long without them knowing.” He sighs, eyes still fixed on the ceiling. “I’m not convinced Babs didn’t know before tonight. That woman knows everything.” While you’ve only heard stories and seen some pictures of the redhead, you have absolutely no trouble believing that. “So what happened, anyways?”
He mulls it over for a moment. “Well, I think it started when Damian tried to have me disowned.” You almost choke on nothing but air, a sound somewhere between a snort, a cough and a laugh leaving you. “Okay, you’ve completely lost me, babe.”
“Honestly, I was mostly just surprised I’m even still in the will.” A not so gentle nudge of your foot, an annoyed whine of his name because sure, you’d play along for now. Let him get the jokes and sass out of his system and pretend that you don’t see that the lazy grin he gives you is forced. That you don’t feel one his feet tapping the floor anxiously. That you don’t notice the way his eyes keep flicking towards the window and the door, like he’s expecting them to be kicked down any second now. “Apparently Damian saw us at the aquarium together and somehow assumed I’m your, uh, your mistress? And thought it dishonorable enough to bring up disowning me because of it.” Admittedly, picturing that elicits a real laugh, one you try to hide, but the next part still comes out as more of a wheeze than anything else. “And he just… what? Brought that up casually over dinner?” Jason shrugs. “Basically. Tried to talk my way outta it, but turns out some of the others saw us together, too, and things just spiraled from there.” It’s quiet for only a moment, then you, very much still intent on helping him distract himself from whatever it is that’s truly eating at him, but mixed with just a tad of entertained curiosity now, hit him with, “Well, yeah, makes sense; you have been getting sloppy.” His head shoots up from the back of the couch so fast you’re afraid his neck might snap and he actually looks offended. “How exactly is this my fault?”
“Come on, Jay. First couple of months of this relationship you wouldn’t even leave the house with me. Now? Grocery shopping, the movies, café dates, the aquarium - we’re barely apart, so it really was only a matter of time till they figured it out.” Rolling his eyes, he slides further down his seat and pouts, fully aware that technically you are correct - doesn’t mean he has to like it. “Great, helpful as ever, darling. And what do you, in your infinite wisdom, suggest we do about this now?” You regard him in silence for a moment: how he fiddles with your fingers, the set of his jaw, the furrow in his brows, the way every muscle in his body seems tense.
“Hey…” you murmur gently, interlacing your fingers. “Why do we have to do anything about this? What are you so worried about? I promise not to bite them when I meet them. Unless you want me to.” Careful prodding, still interlaced with humor - to let him know he can talk to you about it, but only if he wants to. He huffs out a quiet laugh, giving your intertwined hands a squeeze. “You can be such a gremlin sometimes, do you know that?” Bringing a hand to your chest in mock offense, you grin at him. “Oh, you do not get to call me a gremlin when you’re the one who consistently feeds me after midnight and gets me plenty wet.” The following eye brow waggle from your side is what breaks him; a full blown, joyful laugh as he shifts, picking you up and depositing you on his lap sideways, his arms encircling your middle, some of the previous tension visibly leaving his face. “See, that’s the exact kinda shit I don’t need you saying around them, cause I’ll never live that down.” Humming in thought, you get comfortable in your new position, resting your head in the crook of his neck. “Sounds like a you problem, though.” It earns you a playful pinch to your sides that has you batting at his arms and hands to try and get him to stop; a fruitless effort of course, but he eventually settles his hands back on your hips. In turn, you place a hand on his chest, feeling for his heartbeat; most definitely too fast for simply fooling around with and teasing you. He’s not just worried, he’s scared, so you decide the time for games is over. “I’m being serious, though, what’s the matter? This isn’t anything you actually need to be concerned over, is it? It’s really not that big of a deal. So what if they know about me? So what if I eventually meet them now; not like it’s gonna change anything between us.” It’s small and if you didn’t know him as well you did, you probably would’ve missed it or written it off as irrelevant: the way he ever so slightly flinches at the last part.
Bingo.
But you don’t push, you know better. You let him get his thoughts in order, shifting restlessly beneath you while he does and let him answer in his own time.
“It’s stupid…”
“It’s not stupid if it’s bothering you.”
A sigh, then you feel him rest his cheek on the top of your head.
“I dunno. Being around you is always so… easy. Comforting. Being with them isn’t. It’s complicated and it’s messy and overall just exhausting, most of the time. It’s not all bad, just…” He shakes his head slightly, like he’s trying to get rid of an onslaught of memories; good or bad, you’re not entirely sure. “I guess I just don’t want them rubbing off on you, is all.” Pulling back to look at him, you find his eyes elsewhere, anywhere but you, desperate to avoid your scrutiny. “In other words, you’re worried your relationship with them, their opinions of you, are gonna affect mine, right?” He still can’t bring himself to look at you when he mumbles, “Basically…”
You shuffle about until you get your legs back under you, straddling him and cupping his face in your palms, running your thumbs along his cheek bones until he willingly brings his unnaturally green eyes back to yours and you feel like your heart might crack at the uncertainty you find there. “You’re forgetting that, aside from you, I’m probably the most stubborn person in this city; once I’ve made up my mind, it’s hard to change it. If anything, you should be worried about me not shutting the fuck up about how amazing and wonderful you are around them.” He scoffs and tries to turn his head out of your hold, but you refuse to let go and press a quick kiss to the tip of his nose instead, effectively stunning him into obedience. “Uh uh, you’re not going anywhere, I’m not finished yet. I’m on your side, okay? Even if it feels like nobody else is. I’m judging you based on my experiences with you, not theirs. And sure, not everything’s been great; you’re not perfect and neither am I, but that’s human. We live and we learn and we fuck up and then we try again. And I know you try, Jason. Every day, I know you’re trying. Trying to navigate a second life you never asked for. Trying to live in a body that never feels right, no matter how much time passes. Trying to mend the bonds with a family that more often than not still sees the ghost of a boy looking back at them, instead of the man you’ve become. Trying to make things better in this city, so that no one has to go through the same things you did. And nothing your family could say or do or show me is ever gonna change what I see with my own eyes.” He’s been silent this entire time, letting you speak, but you watched his shoulders slump, the tension that’s kept him wound up like a spring finally dissipating, and his own hands are now gently holding onto your wrists.
“And what do you see?”
It’s barely above a whisper, so quiet, you almost miss it despite how close you are.
You don’t have all the answers. You don’t actually know what meeting his family is gonna be like, how it might affect your relationship, but this? Oh, this you can answer just fine.
“A man who’s scarred and deeply flawed, but is still trying to do better, to be better. A man who wants to make up for the mistakes he did make, but sometimes nobody cares to listen. A man who, for all his efforts to appear ruthless, is still the most caring person I know. I see a man who, despite life never having been kind to him, retained a kind soul.”
And with the way he’s looking at you right now? Nothing but wonder and admiration and affection written all over his face? How could you not be sure about what you’re gonna say next? Sure that no one, absolutely no one, would ever be able to change your mind about him.
“I see the love of my life.”
#jason todd x reader#red hood x reader#gender neutral reader#fluff#hurt/comfort#batfamily#jason todd imagine#red hood imagine#dc#dc comics#jason todd#red hood#tim x bernard
580 notes
·
View notes
Text
Some Nights
Pairing: Bob Reynolds x Reader
Summary: During the day, the tower is filled with laughter and banter. It's a warm feeling. Until night comes and the silence is too much.
Warnings: none
A/N: This came to me during a class lecture. I physically cannot make myself write angst for him. I've tried and I just can't.

There's never a quiet moment during the day. Everyone has gotten close enough to talk regularly. There are conversations started on complete nonsense, and then there are ones about past traumas. Over time, it became natural to hear laughter or yelling every once in a while.
There'd be banging of pots and pans while Walker tried cooking. Alexei would be trying to start a dance party while everyone rolled their eyes. There were too many examples, and yet you treasured them all. It was a family you never thought you could have.
It's almost perfect. Until the night comes crawling, and suddenly the tower is dead silent. Everyone is asleep way before you. It's impossible to sleep when you're now being watched by media outlets and citizens. It's nerve-wracking to not know whether they'll accept you as Earth's heroes.
Sometimes it's unbearable to be left alone with your thoughts. However, you eventually find a solution.
-
One night, you're sneaking out of your room for some food. It's nearly 4am, and you know you should be sleeping. You convince yourself that one snack will be enough and then you can go back to bed.
You slowly open your door, and you almost expect a comically loud creak. Instead, you're met with Bob standing outside the door. His hands are playing with the hem of his shirt, and he looks like he's about to say something.
"I wasn't trying to be weird. I just saw the light under your door," He says while nodding. He has that goofy, closed smile on his lips as if that explains everything. The way your heart skips a beat is almost enough of an answer. "I was trying to gather the courage to knock."
"So, you just stood outside my door in hopes I wouldn't open it?" You ask. You raise an eyebrow at him and wonder how long he's been standing here. You didn't even hear him approach your door.
"Well, no," He starts, but cuts himself off. "Yeah. Yeah, I was just standing here." He admits with a nervous chuckle.
"Do you need something, or were you just paying a late-night visit?" You ask in hopes he'll give a better explanation. Bob isn't the best at giving details or talking about how he's feeling. It's why you often have to ask multiple questions to form a full story.
"Oh, right! I was going to ask if you wanted to hang out!" He perks up.
"It's like 4 in the morning, Bob." You say with confusion. Why was he asking to hang out this late? There's nothing they could do besides sit in her room. "You should be in bed."
You don't mean to sound harsh. You'd honestly love to spend time with him, but it's at an ungodly hour. You aren't sure if pulling an all-nighter is smart. However, you see the way his eyes soften and the corner of his lips dip down for just a second. Your snack will have to wait because he's in no state to be alone.
"Get in here," You sigh. You grab his arm and practically drag him into your room. There's not much to look at, but he still examines it as if there is. "I found an old projector that we can watch a movie on."
You were planning on watching romcoms on it, but maybe it'll have a better use with him. You carefully aim the lens at your ceiling in the center of your bed. It gives a large projection of whatever it's hooked up to. Luckily for you, you know how to get free movies and shows on your laptop.
That's how you two spend the night. Watching movies that he's never seen or comfort movies you enjoy. It becomes a regular thing, and after a few nights, you two end up falling asleep tangled in each other. It was an accident at first. You woke up with his arms around you and didn't have the heart or willpower to pull away. Eventually, you two just accepted that it was inevitable.
You have to admit, you enjoyed feeling his breathing and hearing his body. His skin was soft and lacked the scars most of the others had. It was refreshing to hold someone and understand them completely.
-
It's the second time you've chosen to watch your favorite movie. It brings a deep comfort inside you that you cannot explain. Watching it next to Bob is even better.
You're both lying on your backs while staring at the projected movie on the ceiling. There's a calm silence between you two that creates a tension that you cannot deny. Every once in a while, you'll glance over at him. His eyes are lit up by the movie, and it makes your heart swell.
At some point, he catches you staring and immediately assumes something is on his face. After clarifying that there isn't he asks why you're staring.
"I don't know. You just look happy," You explain. It's the truth, he's been looking happier. Ever since you've invited him to stay the night and relax with you, he's been brighter. The nights are no longer as hard. "I like seeing you like that."
"You make me happy." He blurts out. It's sudden, and his eyes widen. He sits up and turns from you as if he's just spilled a dirty secret. You're frozen in place, wondering what that truly meant.
"Hey, don't shy away from me." You sit up and turn to him. You can't help but let out a laugh at how he's practically shunned himself. You place your hand on his shoulder and pull him towards you. "Come on." You coo.
When he finally faces you, he's beet red. You have another round of laughter before composing yourself. Your eyes land on him, and he's frowning. He looks humiliated, and it crushes you.
"You don't need to laugh. It was stupid of me to say," He mumbles while unable to hold eye contact. His words make your skin crawl at the idea of hurting him. He thinks you're rejecting him or mocking him at least.
"No, no, I'm glad you said it." You grab his chin to force him to look at you. "You make me happy, too." You keep your voice down. It feels more intimate to say in softly than to rush it out.
His eyes brighten once again. There's uncertainty within him because for all he knows, this could mean two different things.
"Yeah, but, uhm, I feel a 'I want to kiss you' happy," He stumbles over his words while trying to explain himself. "N-not like a 'I enjoy your friendship' happy." He speaks quickly as if he's running out of time. Your hand moves from his chin to cup his cheek.
"So, kiss me," You suggest. You try to play it cool, but deep down your heart is pounding. You want more than anything for him to actually kiss you, but when he pulls away an inch, that hope flies away. "Or not. I mean, it's whatever you're comfortable with-"
You're cut off by the harsh crash of his lips against yours. It's sloppy at first, and it feels like kissing for the first time. After a few seconds, it slows down and softens. It becomes natural, and you don't want to pull away. His hands wrap around the top of your neck and reach your jaw. His fingers curl around the base of your hair as he pulls you in closer.
His lips are chapped, but they aren't rough. You can sense his need to be closer, and it's intoxicating.
He's the first to end the kiss to get air. His hands never leave their place.
"Like that?" He asks nervously. His puppy eyes are too much to bear. He's so anxious about doing it right that it only makes the moment more special.
"That was perfect." You assure him. Right after you pull him back into another kiss.
#bob reynolds x y/n#bob reynolds x reader#bob reynolds#bob reynolds x you#the void x reader#void x reader#the void x you#sentry x y/n#sentry x you#sentry x reader#lewis pullman#thunderbolts*#thunderbolts#robert reynolds x you#robert reynolds x reader#robert reynolds#bob thunderbolts
785 notes
·
View notes
Text
Delicate
Sinister! Mark x GN!Regenerator! Reader
A/N: After -> this <- post by @kikiiguess, thanks for matching my freak on a catastrophic level!
⚠️Contains Comic Spoilers⚠️


18+ disturbing content
Synopsis: After escaping from the wasteland dimension, Mark has developed a concerning appetite... Warnings: angst, blood, injury, hurt/comfort, masochism, literal cannibalism, this is oddly sexual charged
It was way past midnight when you woke up finding the bedplace next to yours empty once again, starting to wander the barely illuminated hallways in search for your lover.
A few days prior he had finally returned to your dimension after weeks of absence - yet what exactly happened or how he was even able to find his way back remained a mystery.
All you were sure of is that he had returned a shell of his former self, completely driven by inferior instincts.
From what you could understand of the scraps of information he provided in between demented nonsense, Mark and several of his alters got stranded in a dead universe, with no access to food or water...
...so naturally, as time passed and their hopes of rescue were dwindling, their last option was to start eliminating each other in their desparation for survival.
Truth be told, you were almost 100% sure it was your Mark that made them all turn on each other in the first place.
You've had it all with this man, so you were confident to say it was definelty in his range of possibilities - though this was a new low, even for him.
Damn it, how many times did you tell him to not trust Angstom of all people?! He had been a pain in the ass in your dimension, and now you found out the hard way that goes for this one as well.
But sadly your boyfriend was a fatal combination of both greedy and bored - so being able to expand his empire across the multiverse seemed like just the kind of diversion he needed.
Maybe you if you had been more assertive, then none of this would've happened...
Not much later you finally run into him, hunched over the corpse of your comrade and holding a severed limb as his teeth scraped off the flesh. Witnessing carnage of this extent wasn't really new for either of you, but the context made it just so much more gruesome.
Ever since he came back he's nothing short of instable, however not in the way you were used to. It had always been subtle, well hidden behind a charming facade and skilled manipulation tactics.
There had been method to his madness up until now, but the isolation and sheer hopelessnes of his situation made the last remnant of his sanity slip away like sand between his fingers.
At times his mind conjures voices and other hallucinations, making him even more paranoid than usually. And more often than not he thinks that he's still trapped in that very same wasteland dimension. Well, back then his only solace was imagining himself back home by your side, and now it had become impossible for him to differentiate...
...not to mention, he seems to be plaqued by an aching hunger that can never be quenched.
The doctors claimed it was psychosomatic, caused by the trauma, and that he will most likely adjust to normal food again...
...and yet he hasn't gotten any better, no matter what you tried.
"Want some?" Mark's voice cut through the silence like shards of glass, and you shot him a both disappointed and sympathetic look before shaking your head. "Thanks, I'll pass..."
"I was just so hungry, you know?" You hear a bone creaking as he munches on it, and you feel like throwing up. "Always hungry...it never goes away..."
As much as it pained you to see him this way, in the end you prefer to have him like this than not at all.
Finding him here was no coincidence, surely. He always deliberately fled from your side, whenever this vile urge became too overwhelming. Harming you - the one and only person he evidently cared for - was out of the question.
The old Mark was still hidden somewhere in this delirious menace, you were sure of it...
...you just needed to find a way to lure him out.
"Come" you whisper softly, understandingly, yet also cautious - like you were trying to appease an unpredictable beast that could lash out without warning shall you make one wrong movement. "Let's go to bed."
For a split second a panicked aggression flared up in his eyes, although he didn't act upon the impulse he developed to ensure his survival. He mustered your outstreched hand suspiciously, as if not quite knowing what to do with it, but after a while of whatever his disturbed mind was contemplating, he accepted your offer.
You mutely led him the way back to your shared chambers, with him leaving a trail of blood from the carnage left behind. That's a problem for tomorrow you - or preferably someone else - to clean up.
Right now all that counts is being there for the man that would- no, has conquered entire civilizations in your name.
You owe this to him!
There was no use trying to reason with him about getting cleaned up, so you gently guided him onto the mattress and climbed in right after. Blood from his clothes, hair and skin was soaked into the sheets, drying into a deep shade of crimson. He was entirely covered in it, mixed with his own saliva as it dripped down his chin.
You cradled his face into your hands, pecking a kiss on the bridge of his nose before smearing the proof of his earlier slaughter into nothing but a fading red.
"I didn't plan to be last, I swear..." your boyfriend uttered as he wrapped his arms around your middle, his scruffy beard tickling the crook of your neck. "It just continued not to be me. Maybe I don't look tasty? I don't want to not look tasty..."
You let out a shuddered breath, continuing to let your fingers comb through his messy hair but getting tangled in the dried blood. "I'm just glad to have you back."
Mark had always cursed himself for being so pathetically attached to you. He never intended to fall in love, downright refused this foreign feeling long before he even understood them.
After having spent his whole life in solitude, indifferent to anything 'normal' people seemed to value, he convinced himself that it was actually a sign of superiority.
...and then he met you.
A plaything, a pastime at first.
Back then the GDA had messed with the pain center of your brain, so you'd be more effective in battle. After all, regeneration isn't helpful if you feel every single hit, especially after getting severely injured.
However those experiments came at a price - it caused the side-effect of mistaking pain for pleasure instead.
That's what makes the two of you such a great match: You can basically never break under the weight of what it means to be a sadistic sociopath's spouse. With you he can go all out, implement his dominating power without any consequences.
Who would've thought that the first battle he would ever lose was the one with his own heart?
In a certain way, that other dimension was better. Easier. Absent of any irrational social rules or confusing emotions he couldn't get behind. It was survival of the fittest - a concept he as one of the strongest beings in the universe was very fond of.
Back there, his lack of empathy wasn't consiered monstrous there - it was an advantage. Finally a reassurance that he wasn't broken or wrong.
He was the one that made it out alive, after all.
"How-" Mark's voice is raspy, wild eyes boring into your skull as his fingers tentatively wrapped around your neck. "How do I know this is real? Have you ever been real?!"
You were oddly calm despite being at a madman's mercy, but frankly you were used to it. He increases the pressure on your windpipe just enough to be uncomfortable, but you can feel the barely contained violence behind his grip.
Why didn't you think of this earlier? The solution is so obvious!
"...take from me and find out."
"...no." Mark's voice is firm in a brief moment of clarity. "No" he repeats, "I can't-"
"Why not?" You ask, tone almost offended that he'd reject your generous offer. If he wasn't currently slightly out of mind himself, he would've definetly called you out on this ridiculous behavior.
But his answer stands. There's lines even he does not cross, at least when it came to you. Hypocrite.
"Your folk has less than 50 pure-blooded Viltrumites left, and you just eviscerated one of them...but me? I can take it, I swear."
Your boyfriend had always shared the Viltrumite mindset that humans - except for certain individuals like you were one - are inferior creatures, not much different from cattle or vermin even. Many times he had hunted them for the sheer fun of it...
...but now he didn't even stop at his own people. If he continues, the Viltrumites will eventually turn against him no matter his royal heritage.
Things can't go on like this.
Maybe it's time for more drastic measurements.
"Stop being stubborn" you coo, invitingly batting your lashes but he shuts you up with a glare.
"No, you stop!" He rubs his face frantically, attempting to become at least somewhat clear-headed again. "Even your regeneration has limits. What if I-"
"You won't." Without hesitation, you dig your nails into your forearm, deeply enough to break the skin.
The sheer sight of it leaves him utterly conflicted, exasperated as he's sure once he gives in, he might not be able to stop himself. You see it in the way his hands tremble, barely hovering over your body, and his jaw clenching so hard that you hear his teeth crack.
You dare to cup his cheek, pouring all of your affection into the smile you gift him alongsdes with the essence of your very self. "I love you, Mark. And...I trust you with my life."
"Shit...why are you doing this to me...?" Mark carefully takes ahold of your wrist and brings it to his mouth, lips slightly parted as the intoxicating scent of your blood drings to his nostrils.
It's not the first time, and by far not the last.
Initially he's only licking across the wound, incredibly mellow as if he only wanted to clean it...
...but when the liquid finally graces his dry throat, he lets out a low growl and immediately straddles your waist, pouncing on you like a starved animal. He rips apart your sleeping shirt and lets his canines sink deeply into your exposed shoulder, tearing off the first layer of tissue.
You fail to suppress almost inaudible moans escaping your throat, having the love of your life causing you such delightful pain being almost too much to handle. And when his keen senses make him aware of your reaction, it only spurs him to go further.
"Ohhh..." he almost groans in pure ecstasy, ferociously covering your body in bites and craters of missing flesh. "You like that, huh? Nasty thing."
Mark's hands explore every inch of your body alongsides his mouth, the uncertainty of whether his next move will be mending or hurtful only adding to your excitement. He observes you intently, pupils blown wide by this sheer addicting deed.
His tongue forces your mouth open, the metallic taste of your own blood invading your senses. He can feel your pulse spiking up, as if that feeble little heart of yours wanted to remind him it knows exactly who it belongs to.
Good.
The others tasted so fucking disgusting. But you...
"Fuck" he panted against your skin, drunk on the feeling of having your mind and body submit to him so easily. "So fucking perfect...taking it all so good...it's like you were made just for me..."
Finally he could be as close to you as he deep inside always dreamt to be, and you were enjoying this twisted kind of love.
Part of you is now incorporated in him forever. Poetic.
After what felt like both an eternity and a flash of time, your boyfriend kissed a spot that had just healed for the last time, licking his lips in satisfaction and pulling away.
At long last, he was satiated.
Sitting up, Mark was practically beaming at you, with a look like you had hung the moon just for him. "Damn, babe" he cackles, the metaphorical fog around his soul finally lifting. "You're a freak, you know that?"
"Takes one to know one." You roll your eyes with a wide grin on your face, and the endearing sight makes him crash his lips over yours once again, sighing contently into your mouth.
Before you knew it, your boyfriend began trailing more sensual kisses across your body - from your neck down to your collarbone, chest and finally down your navel, making you shiver the further he descended.
A wolfish smile is playing on his lips as he settles between your legs, his teeth softly nipping into your thigh, mischievous eyes never leaving yours.
"Hope you're ready for dessert..."
#what has unrestrained internet acces done to me?#anyways#invincible#mark grayson#sinister mark#invincible x reader#mark grayson x reader#sinister mark x reader#fanfiction#oneshot#writing#reader insert#cw cannibalism#invincible s3#invincible comic#invincible spoilers
856 notes
·
View notes
Text
while we were in the basement hiding from tornadoes i finally watched captain america the winter soldier and it was pretty good for a marvel movie
sometimes i think to myself "come on, MCU isn't THAT bad" when i see people complain, and then realize I haven't watched any MCU since endgame which was awful. But now i think that marvel had actually been in a process of going downhill even before that.
obviously the biggest problem is the way later marvel movies just shat all over character development and gave up on meaningful emotional arcs for cheap jokes and stuff that "looks cool" without any meaning to it.
but also the winter soldier had a lot of physicality to the fight scenes and stunts that later MCU films don't have at all.
One of the key challenges with MCU is that the characters don't have clear limits or parameters on what they can and can't do, but i think thats kind of inevitable seeing how theyre based on superhero comics. EVERY marvel film, characters, including un-enhanced human characters, tank levels of blunt force trauma and acceleration that would be unsurvivable irl, or miraculously dodge sprays of bullets or exploding debris that would certainly rip them asunder.
So why is the winter soldier exciting when later marvel films aren't? Well for one thing the action sequences are physical fights rather than vague CGI light shows of characters using poorly defined powers. Even though we know the heroes are all practically indestructible for in-universe and out-of-universe reasons, it feels more exciting when the characters' bodies seem like they are actually interacting with physics and their environment and each other. Bucky as the Winter Soldier has such a physicality and weight to him as he moves, jumps, fights and uses weapons that when he does do something that seems impossible for a person it makes him appear scary and uncanny instead of just looking like more of the same computer generated nothing.
Honestly i feel like mcu started to be more focused on comedy and "jokes" because once the scenes started to be almost completely CGI, it was so much harder to create a sense of excitement and stakes. But thats just my idea
375 notes
·
View notes