#catch-me-if-you-can-fly-faster

[gojosconsort]

Gojo just casually touching readers tits when he’s horny during a movie, like gently rubbing circles on it and playing with her nipples to let her know he wants her to fuck him. So she ends up pushing him down on the couch and rides him till he cums with her twice tits still in his mouth🥰

𓂃୨ৎ mdni. nipple play, riding, creampie

the movie’s some dumb action flick, explosions flickering on the screen, but satoru’s barely watching. you’re curled up on the couch next to him, your head on his shoulder, his arm slung around you.

it’s cozy, until you feel his fingers start to wander, sliding under your loose tank top. his touch is warm, lazy, but there’s a spark in it that makes your breath catch.

he’s horny—you know the signs by now.

satoru’s hand cups your tit, thumb brushing slow circles over your nipple through your bra, teasing it to a hard peak. “satoru,” you murmur, glancing at him, but he’s got that smug little grin, eyes half-lidded, pretending to focus on the movie. “what?” he says, all innocent, but his fingers pinch your nipple lightly, making you squirm.

“you’re distracting,” you huff, but heat’s already pooling between your thighs. he chuckles, leaning closer, lips grazing your ear. “can’t help it, babe. these are too fucking perfect.” his other hand joins, both now under your shirt, pushing your bra up to free your tits.

he’s gentle but also mean, rolling your nipples between his fingers, tugging just enough to make you gasp. “feel good?” he asks, and you nod, biting your lip.

he’s hard—you can feel his cock straining against his sweatpants, pressing into your hip. his touches get bolder, one hand kneading your breast while his mouth dips to kiss your neck, whispering, “want you so bad.” it’s his way of begging, that needy edge in his voice, and it’s got you soaked, thighs clenching.

and he’s in heaven, your soft, heavy breasts in his palms, so perfect he can’t stop groaning, his cock throbbing just from touching you. every squeeze, every tug, makes him hungrier, his mouth watering to taste you.

“satoru, the movie—” you start, but he groans, cutting you off, and you’ve had enough. you shove him back, his head hitting the couch cushions, his blue eyes wide with surprise, then darkening.

“fuck, yes,” he breathes as you straddle him, yanking his sweatpants down. his cock springs free, thick and leaking, tip flushed, and you’re already aching to take him. you tug your shorts and panties off and line him up, his cock nudging your slick entrance, and sink down slow, gasping as he stretches you, filling you deep.

satoru’s eyes roll back, a low moan escaping as your tight, wet pussy grips him, so warm and perfect he’s losing his mind. every inch feels like fucking bliss, your walls squeezing him just right, like you were made for his cock. you start to ride him, hips rocking, his cock dragging against your walls, hitting deep, making you moan.

“shit, you’re so tight,” he gasps, hands flying back to your tits, squeezing as you start moving. he’s obsessed, the way your breasts bounce under your top, so full and soft, makes him thrust up harder, wanting to stay buried in you forever.

he leans in, pushes your top up over your tits and then his mouth is on them, sucking one nipple, then the other. “fuck, you’re so hot,” he mutters. he sucks hard, tongue swirling, teeth grazing, and it’s too much—you’re clenching around him, riding faster.

“satoru,” you whimper, tugging his white hair, and he growls, sucking harder, his whole body trembling from how good your tits feel in his mouth, how your pussy milks his cock.

his hips buck, meeting your thrusts, the couch creaking, wet sounds filling the room. you’re close, your clit grinding against him, and he’s right there with you, hands gripping your tits like he’ll die if he lets go.

“cum for me,” he pants, biting your nipple lightly, and that’s it—you’re cumming, hard, walls squeezing his cock as you cry out, shaking in his lap. he’s still sucking your tit, hands gripping your hips, guiding you through it. “fuck, that’s my girl.”

you keep riding, oversensitive but needy, wanting him to cum too. his mouth switches to your other breast, latching on, sucking like he’s starving, and it’s pushing you toward another edge.

“satoru, oh god,” you gasp, and he’s done—your pussy’s grip pulling him under, the way your tits fill his mouth making him cum, cock pulsing, spilling hot and thick inside you. he groans, loud, still sucking your nipple, thrusts slowing as he rides it out, every spurt feeling like he’s marking you, claiming you.

you’re not done, though—your hips keep moving, slower now, milking him, and he’s whimpering, oversensitive, but he doesn’t stop you. his mouth stays on your nipple, sucking softer, and the feeling’s got you cumming again, a smaller, shuddering wave, your pussy clenching tight around his softening cock.

you collapse against him, both of you panting, his arms wrapping around you. he pulls back, kissing your swollen nipples gently, then your lips, soft and sweet. “you’re so fucking hot,” he murmurs, grinning, still half-hard inside you. “movie’s shit anyway. round two in bed?”

[monstersholygrail]

Werewolf bf lays out so prettily on your bed, his hands held up against the wall by his unforgiving chains. Not because he’s about to shift but because he’d gone a little overboard with the marking the other night and this was the poor pups punishment.

It was the best thing he could think of, to be tied up and unable to move. Completely at your whim to do whatever you wish to him.

You’ve been going at him for so many hours now he’s lost count. Hands splayed across his chest, nails digging in till his cock twitches. You take his dick better than anyone, like you were made for it as you make yourself cum again and again and every time he asks if he can cum too you give him a firm ‘No,’ and keep on going.

It’s pure agonizing torture and he swears he’s never been more aroused in his entire life. Addicted to just how mean you’re being to him. He grunts and whimpers as your pussy throbs around his length, your slick soaking a wet spot into the sheets and making a mess of his thighs and quivering torso.

Oh, how he wants to mix your release with his, to make it all even more sloppy and depraved. A long groan vibrates through his throat but you don’t even look at him. Your eyes rolled back and drowning in pleasure.

A part him might even regret giving you the idea if it wasn’t for the look of pure bliss on your face as you bounce on his giant cock, taking your pleasure for all it’s worth without a single care for his. He can’t deny how fucking turned on that makes him and his cock gets impossibly bigger inside you.

Whiny howls leave him each time your hips smack against his. He needs more, needs it harder and faster, feeling your slick walls suffocating his cock like a warm embrace.

The urge to break through the chains and grab at your plush hips so he can pound into you like he wants claws at him. But again, his eyes catch onto your blissful expression and his beautiful marks that litter your soft curves and he stays still like a good boy.

His hips do their best to buck and plunge into your scorching depths, but you’ve kept him on edge for so very long and his thighs shake so hard he can’t even hold himself up. Still he knows he’s hitting it good, swiveling his dick as deep as he can go till he hits that spot that has you crying out.

Your pussy starts tightening around him again, clenching him so good his tongue lulls out and drool paints his pillow. He knows you’re close and he wants nothing more than to feel your essence paint his cock. Wanting to cum himself a very close second.

“God look at you about one orgasm away from completely f-fallin’ apart f’me. So… pathetic,” you spit out inbetween broken moans.

He mewls as you ride him even faster. Soft Oh! Oh! Oh’s! falling past your lips each time his cock kisses at your cervix. Reminding you both of exactly where he belongs.

“Y-yes, nngh—baby, yes! Give it to me mean. So fuckin’, haaa, sexy when ya mean to me. Takin’ what you want like t-this— fuck!”

His words send you flying and crashing into a violent release. A loud scream leaving you as your body trembles and struggles to hold itself up with the force. Your cum gushes out of you in waves, painting you both and making your biggest mess yet.

Werewolf bf throws his head back and howls in pleasure, his body giving out and unable to hold back any longer. He uses all the strength he has left and hilts inside of you roughly before hot thick ropes of semen empty all the way inside your womb. Spurt after spurt of warmth filling you to the brim.

When the two of you finally drop from exhaustion, you can only barely release his wrists from their chains. The second you do he growls, his arms curling snuggly around your body, molding your softness to his hard planes. He rolls the two of you over, silently letting you know he won’t be letting you get up from his cuddles for the foreseeable future.

Having taken his punishment in stride he now basks in the reward as he holds you close. Showing no guilt or regret as he happily presses kisses to each and every mark he left. Knowing he’ll only do it again the second they start to fade.

[heeluvv]

WRECKED.ᐟ

pairing ᝰ.ᐟ yang jungwon x reader

warnings ᝰ.ᐟ overstimulation, multiple orgasms, use of vibrator, etc.

natty’s notes ᝰ.ᐟ request, mdni, hate comments will be deleted.

his hands are everywhere—slow, calculated, merciless.

the pads of his fingers drag over your skin, tracing idle patterns, ghosting down your stomach with a touch so light and teasing it makes your breath hitch, makes your body twitch beneath him.

he’s been at this for what feels like hours, pulling you apart, putting you back together, and then ruining you all over again.

his fingers, already coated in your arousal, dip lower, pressing just barely against your entrance, spreading you open with painful, agonizing patience.

“so sensitive already?” his voice is low, mocking, filled with fake sympathy as he watches the way your thighs tremble beneath him.

“j-jungwon—” your breath catches, a whimper slipping past your lips as his fingers press deeper, curling just slightly, stroking against that one spot that makes your stomach tighten, your back arch off the mattress.

“mm, you’re gripping me so tight, baby.” his smirk widens, his pace still slow, deliberate, his thumb lazily circling your clit, applying just enough pressure to make you squirm.

your hands clench at the sheets, nails digging in as pleasure builds too fast, too intensely, your body already worn down from everything before.

“p-please,” you gasp, voice shaky, breathless, and jungwon hums, his eyes flickering up to meet yours, filled with wicked amusement.

“please what?”

his fingers never stop—never slow, never falter.

“t-too much,” you whimper, your thighs trying to snap shut around his wrist, but his free hand grips your thigh, pinning it down, holding you wide open.

“too much?” he repeats, feigning innocence, his lips curling as he presses deeper, stroking harder, watching your body jerk in overstimulated desperation.

“but baby, i’ve barely even started.” his mouth is on you before you can protest, before you can beg for mercy, before you can even breathe.

his tongue flicks out in a slow, torturous stroke, licking up your soaked folds, spreading your slick as his lips wrap perfectly around your swollen clit.

“f-fuck—!”

your head tilts back, a strangled moan breaking from your lips as your fingers fly to his hair, your grip tightening, desperate.

but he doesn’t care.

he doesn’t care that your body is twitching, jerking, doesn’t care that you’re already so sensitive, so wrecked, doesn’t care that your breath is coming out in choked, uneven gasps.

if anything, it only fuels him.

“mm, still so needy.” his words are muffled against your heat, his tongue pressing firm, slowly swirling, his fingers still buried inside you, thrusting, curling, stretching you open.

he groans when he feels your walls flutter around him, sucking him in, your body already so close, already so far gone.

“you gonna cum again, baby?” his voice is mocking, condescending, but you don’t care—you can’t.

because it’s happening too fast, too suddenly, too overwhelmingly.

your thighs shake violently, your back arching off the bed, your lips parting in a silent scream as your orgasm crashes through you, harder, more intense than the first.

but jungwon—jungwon doesn’t stop.

his tongue flicks faster, licking and sucking, his fingers stroking, pressing, thrusting, pushing you past your limits, past anything you can handle.

“n-no—i—j-jungwon, please!” your voice is strained, broken, the pleasure borderline unbearable, tears pricking at your lashes from the sheer overload.

but he only laughs, breath hot against your slick skin as he pulls back slightly, just enough to watch you fall apart.

“what’s wrong, baby?” he murmurs, tilting his head, eyes filled with mock sympathy.

“thought you wanted more?” your fingers clench into his hair, tugging desperately, trying to pull him away, but it only makes him groan, the vibration sending another sharp jolt of pleasure through you.

“s’too much—i can’t—”

his grip on your thigh tightens, keeping you pinned, keeping you from escaping.

“oh, but you can, baby.”

his tongue flicks out again, circling your clit, pressing firm, relentless, unyielding.

your body is on fire, shaking uncontrollably, your legs twitching violently as jungwon continues to pull orgasm after orgasm from you, refusing to give you a single second to breathe.

your vision blurs, your head tipping back as your mind goes blank, the pleasure so overwhelming it starts to borderline pain.

“c-can’t—i can’t—”

his fingers don’t slow, his tongue doesn’t falter—if anything, he only pushes you harder, watches as you fall apart completely, watches as you sob helplessly beneath him, begging for mercy.

but mercy isn’t in jungwon’s vocabulary.

“look at you,” he muses, smirk widening as he watches the way your body shudders, completely at his mercy.

“so fucking ruined.”

his fingers slide out of you suddenly, leaving you clenching around nothing, the absence almost enough to make you sob.

your chest heaves, your breath ragged, uneven, but before you can even process the loss—his hands grip your thighs, yanking you closer, his lips wrapping around your clit again.

“j-jungwon—!”

your body jerks violently, a desperate, wrecked whimper breaking from your throat as the stimulation starts all over again.

“shhh,” he soothes, voice mocking, amused, his tongue lazily flicking, slow and devastating.

“just one more for me, baby.”

but you already know—he’s lying.

your body barely has time to recover before you hear it. a soft, unmistakable buzz—low and menacing, cutting through the heavy silence of the room. your heart stutters, and despite the exhaustion weighing down your limbs, your head snaps up, eyes widening in realization.

“n-no—” your voice is shaky, hoarse, but the plea barely makes it past your lips before jungwon is pressing the vibrator against your swollen clit.

the sensation is instant, brutal, unforgiving. your entire body arches off the mattress, a strangled cry ripping from your throat as the vibrations send a fresh wave of sharp, electric pleasure through your already wrecked, oversensitive body.

“oh, baby,” jungwon murmurs, his voice filled with mock sympathy, eyes flickering over your tear-streaked face, the way your body jerks and twitches beneath him.

“you’re shaking so much.”

his free hand presses against your lower stomach, holding you down, pinning you in place, ensuring you can’t escape, can’t squirm away.

“i think you can give me another one.”

your nails claw at the sheets, your breath coming in shaky, broken gasps, but jungwon doesn’t let up. his pace is steady, calculated, merciless, his smirk widening as he watches your body react to every movement, your thighs still twitching uncontrollably.

“p-please,” you sob, hands reaching for him, but he catches your wrists easily, pinning them above your head.

“please what?” his head tilts, mocking amusement dancing in his eyes.

“s’too much—j-jungwon, please—” but he only laughs, shaking his head as he presses the vibrator harder, pushing you deeper into the mattress.

“too much?” he repeats, voice filled with mockery. the vibrations increase, and you break.

your body jerks violently, your back arching, a scream of pleasure tearing from your throat as another orgasm crashes over you, too soon, too strong, too devastating.

but jungwon doesn’t stop.

his grip on your thigh tightens, his eyes dark with satisfaction as he watches you completely fall apart.

“look at you, baby,” he murmurs, dragging the toy in slow circles, making sure you feel everything. “so fucked out, so sensitive. can’t even stop shaking.”

you can’t respond—can’t even think—your body trembling beneath him, pleasure teetering on the edge of pain.

your body is overloaded, nerves fried, your mind completely blank.

you don’t realize you’re crying until jungwon reaches up, wiping a stray tear from your cheek with his thumb.

“aww, baby,” he coos, his voice still filled with mockery, but there’s something else too—something darker, more satisfied.

“are you crying?”

he leans down, pressing his lips against your jaw, kissing the tear-stained skin.

“poor thing.” the vibrator doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow, doesn’t let up.

“but you should’ve thought about that before you decided to act like a brat.”

you can’t stop it.

the orgasm crashes over you hard, violent, all-consuming, your body jerking uncontrollably, every nerve in your body overloaded, oversensitive, burning.

but jungwon doesn’t stop.

your sob catches in your throat, your nails digging into his wrist, trying—failing—to push him away as the pleasure turns unbearable, overwhelming.

“n-no, j-jungwon—please, i—i can’t—”

but he doesn’t listen.

“you can,” he corrects smoothly, never faltering, never easing up. “and you will.”

his pace never changes, the toy still buzzing mercilessly, and your body keeps convulsing, keeps shaking, keeps writhing beneath him.

the overstimulation is cruel, unrelenting, and he knows it.

“aww, baby,” he coos, watching the way your eyes flutter, dazed and teary. “aren’t you cute?”

his fingers slide down your stomach, tracing the trembling muscles, feeling every little aftershock of pleasure.

“one more,” he murmurs, voice low, coaxing, devastating. “give me one more, baby.”

natty’s notes ᝰ.ᐟ had two requests for jungwon so here it is !!

[kxsagi]

can you write something with the blue lock boys where the reader just tackles them in a hug, giving them a quick big squeeze before running away giggling to themselves

“𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐬)”

a/n: THE FLUFF I NEEDED

ft. itoshi rin, isagi yoichi, itoshi sae, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, chigiri hyoma, bachira meguru, kaiser michael, ness alexis, shidou ryusei, karasu tabito, otoya eita, yukimiya kenyu

itoshi rin

you tackle-hug him from the side and he just freezes like a cat that got surprised. 

“... what was that?” 

he watches you run away and roll around giggling like a gremlin and just blinks. 

pretends it didn’t affect him. but he’s dead silent for the next ten minutes with ears red and a hand over the place you hugged. 

texts you later like: don’t do that in public again. but you can do it again later. privately. maybe. 

(he secretly loved it.) 

isagi yoichi

bro malfunctions. 

like you tackle-hug him and he just short circuits, arms frozen mid-air, eyes wide. 

“huh? wait, hey! where are you going?!” 

he starts laughing halfway through the sentence because your giggles are contagious. 

ends up chasing you around like it’s tag. the moment he catches you, he returns the hug, but longer, tighter. 

“you think you can just do that and run off?” 

yes. yes you do. and you’ll do it again. 

itoshi sae

he’s scrolling on his phone, completely unsuspecting. you hug-slam him and bolt. 

he almost drops his phone. 

“... you’re so weird.” 

but he’s smiling. real soft. real fond. 

instead of chasing you, he just walks over, catches you effortlessly mid-giggle, and holds you hostage in a calm, smug hug. 

“you thought you were fast, huh?” 

you are. just not faster than sae “calm menace” itoshi. 

nagi seishiro

you run at him and squish him in a big hug and then disappear in a blur of laughter. 

he stands there with his hair flopped over his face like ??? 

“huh… was that a dream?” 

slowly turns his head and watches you wheeze in the corner. 

doesn’t say anything, just shuffles over like a lazy zombie and collapses on you with his version of a tackle-hug. 

“my turn. you woke me up for this, might as well finish it.” 

mikage reo

squealed. actually squealed. 

“babe!! what?!” 

you zoom off before he can recover, and he’s left giggling with his whole face lit up. 

immediately starts planning revenge (but like, romantic revenge. think rose petals and counter-hugs.) 

posts a blurry selfie of you running away with the caption: my heart can’t take this kind of sneak attack 😭💜 

you’re now banned from hugging him without a warning. he says this while opening his arms anyway. 

chigiri hyoma

you charge and hug-tackle him and he stumbles a bit, but catches you halfway. 

“what the hell?” 

you sprint off laughing and he just stands there… stunned. 

and then he SMIRKS. 

“alright. you wanna play?” 

you’ve accidentally started a high-speed game of “hug and run” where he catches you every time. 

it ends with both of you rolling around on the floor, laughing and out of breath. 

bachira meguru

he loved it. 

you tackle-hug him and he giggles even louder than you do. 

“wha?! hey! that was so cute, come back!!” 

immediately chases you. you’ve started something you can’t finish. 

when he catches you, it turns into a tickle war or a wrestling match. 

“let’s make it a game. whoever gives the best hug wins.” 

you’ve created a monster. a very affectionate one. 

kaiser michael

you hit him with a surprise hug and he almost trips, dramatic gasp included. 

“gott, schatz, are you trying to kill me with cuteness?” 

he watches you run away laughing and just smirks. 

“fine. you wanna play this game?” 

proceeds to stalk you through the penthouse like a hunter, waiting for his moment. 

when he does catch you, expect a long smug cuddle where you’re not allowed to escape. ever. 

ness alexis

you come flying in like a giggling rocket and tackle-hug him mid-sentence. 

“wah!! wh-what was that for?!” 

arms flail. voice cracks. man is shaken. 

watches you scamper off while wheezing, and just stands there pink in the face, clutching his chest like you stole his soul. 

“you can’t just–! you can’t do that and then RUN!!” 

stumbles after you, muttering about how “his heart can’t handle these kinds of jump scares.” 

once he catches you, he hugs you back ten times tighter and refuses to let go. 

“next time you pull something like that, i’m gluing you to my side.” 

secretly loves it. replaying it in his head for the next 3-5 business days. 

shidou ryusei

you full-on launch yourself into him like a cannonball. 

“OH?!” he catches you with a wide grin, immediately intrigued. 

you giggle and sprint away and he’s instantly chasing after you like it’s a game of tag. 

“YOU WANNA PLAY, BABY? HELL YEAH.” 

accidentally turns it into a wrestling match halfway through. 

you: “it was just a hug!!” 

him: “you touched me first, now i’m feral.” 

ends with him piggybacking you through the house, refusing to let you touch the ground again. 

karasu tabito

you tackle-hug him from behind and he jumps in surprise. 

“yo?! what the hell?” 

turns around to see you giggling and skipping away like you didn’t just send him into cardiac arrest. 

smirks and calls after you: “you better run faster than that, sweetheart.” 

starts following you slowly like a villain in a horror movie. 

finally grabs your wrist with one hand, pulls you back for revenge with a lazy smile. 

“payback’s gonna be fun.” 

otoya eita

oh you hug-tackled the right man. 

he immediately spins around and flirts back like you just proposed. 

“if you wanted to be in my arms that bad, you could’ve just asked, baby.” 

watches you scamper off and laughs to himself, clutching his chest like he’s lovestruck. 

“adorable and bold? dangerous combo, angel.” 

finds you later and sneaks up behind you with a slow, smooth hug. 

“my turn. don’t run this time, yeah?”

yukimiya kenyu

you hug him out of nowhere, and he lets out a soft “ah!” before you disappear like a thief in the night. 

stands there dazed for a second, adjusting his glasses, cheeks flushed pink. 

“that was… very unexpected.” 

lowkey dying inside. you just made his entire week. 

when he sees you again, he gives you a small smile and softly says, “thank you for the hug. i’ll be stealing one back now, if that’s okay.” 

ends up giving you the gentlest yet most heartfelt squeeze ever. 

“next time, maybe stay a little longer.”

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[vanesycho]

• bf!hyunjin x f!reader | m.list

| let's just say you get 'very excited' after see your boyfriend's new haircut

warning | fingering, oral(f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex

word count | 1k

enjoy reading！

❝ Is a haircut really enough to get you this high? ❞

oh.

This was exactly your reaction when you saw the message from your boyfriend saying 'I got a buzzcut.'

Everything definitely suited him but this move was unexpected and caught you completely off guard. He had long hair since you knew him and now even imagining him like this made butterflies fly in your stomach. And the fact that he was going to be back home in a few hours made it hard for you to stay still.

As a result of your waiting, you were startled by the sound of a door, Hyunjin left his extra belongings in a corner and let out a tired breath. "Baby?" when you heard his call, your steps started to pull towards him. But the difference you saw made you stop in your tracks, you looked at your boyfriend you weren't used to for a while, when Hyunjin noticed your look, his tired face disappeared and he approached you with a smile. "Surprise?" his arms wrapped tightly around your waist and without waiting, he pulled you to him and buried his face in your neck, mumbled "mm..i missed you.."

You grabbed his shoulders and pushed him lightly so you had a chance to look at his face better. He was...the hottest man you'd ever seen in the world and he belongs to you. Hyunjin looked at your unresponsive face, started examining your face in the same way as if he was trying to figure out if you liked it or not "So...do you like it?" instead of talking, you preferred to give him an answer by kissing him, and Hyunjin accepted it with pleasure, grabbed your hips and pulled you hard to him. After a long kiss, you whispered the moment you pulled back "I don't think I can put into words how sexy you look right now."

He chuckled briefly at your frankness, tilted his head slightly to the side and spoke teasingly "Really? Maybe you can show me that, baby." you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him into another kiss. Hyunjin, noticing how eager and impatient you were, laughed between kisses and picked you up without waiting, walking towards the room without parting your lips.

He pulled back as soon as your back reached the soft bed and helped you take off your clothes before throwing his own clothes in a corner. Even though he was impatient like you, he wanted to take it slow. Spread your legs and get between them without breaking eye contact "Is a haircut really enough to get you this high?" his fingers went to your pussy, you let out a moan as he caressed your clit with slow movements "N-no. You're enough to get me high. N-not your hair." he grinned, the compliment he received made his cock twitch completely "ah..how sweet." he mumbled and after that sentence he leaned down and sucked your clit while inserting two fingers inside you, you let out a loud moan, instead of starting his movements slowly he started to fully exploit your pussy.

You whined wanting more, your hand went to his head, you moved your hips with the new feeling you felt instead of his long hair and pressed him against you. Hyunjin responded to every one of your movements, his tongue moving rapidly on your clit while his fingers curled inside you and made you pour all your juices onto his fingers with a fast pace "Hyun- f-fuck.. I'm close..I- oh fuck." your head went back in pleasure, his tongue and fingers were already skilled, but the feelings that were triggered inside you the moment you saw him would make you cum even faster. Hyunjin didn't slow down, he buried his head between your legs and continued until you cum. And when you reach your peak, he didn't stop until all your cum was wrapped around his fingers, he sucked your clit one last time and tried to catch his breath "Good job baby..oh shit look at this mess.." he said under his breath while looking at the cum flowing from your pussy.

He gave you a while to catch your breath, filled this space with many kisses but he couldn't hold it anymore, his cock was aching in pain and he needed you. He pulled back while his face was buried in your neck and rubbed his dick against your pussy. Hyunjin whimpered as soon as the tip entered, slowly pushed more into you, feeling all your walls, he let out a loud moan and buried his face in your neck again "You feel so..g-good, god you're going to make me go crazy.." his hips moved without hesitation, he was hitting with slow but hard movements, each of his breaths tickling your neck.

Hyunjin was putting his whole cock inside you, he wanted you to feel every inch of him. His arms wrapped around you, your legs wrapped around his waist and the occasional kisses on your neck, your bodies were completely one. "Faster.. please Hyun..I can't take it-" he didn't wait for you to finish your sentence, his hips started moving in fast movements, he lifted his head and held one of your hands, pinning it to the bed, your eyes locked as a few drops of sweat ran down his forehead.

The room was filled with just the moans of pleasure between the two of you, your wetness mixed together "I'm close, baby. It won't...take long for me to come." Hyunjin spoke breathlessly, pumping his cock hard inside you, begging to cum. His rapid breaths turned into a tearful moan, close to cumming, as you prepared yourself for a second orgasm. A few strokes later, your second orgasm hit you, Hyunjin came right after you and came out of you, his cum spilling onto your belly. Hyunjin threw himself directly next to you and tried to catch his breath. "Fuck...I should've cut my hair earlier." you laughed at his mumbled sentence and moved closer to him. He immediately took you under his arms. "Like I said, you're perfect in every way, it's not just about your hair." he grinned, lowering his head towards you. "Thank you, baby. I expected you to like it, this reaction was even more than I expected. But I'm definitely not complaining."

[nebulousmoon3990]

GHOSTS OF THE PAST (Batfam x neglected hero reader)

III𓂃› SPIDER

Warning: violence, swearing, sensitive topics, bad things, spelling mistakes (English is not my first language) and the reader has black hair and blue eyes (sorry), female reader!, I accept criticism, but please don't be rude, everything is fictional!

Hey guys! I'm really sorry it took me so long to post (I was sorting out some things in my life). well, enjoy the chapter!♡

Clark really didn't know what he was getting himself into.

He had expected to come to New York to do a simple interview for the Daily Planet, write the report and spreadsheet right here while eating at a café and if possible bring back some souvenirs for Lois and Jon.

Fighting a supervillain was definitely not in his plans.

It had happened out of nowhere, while he was waiting for the meeting with the businessman, the urgent news on television warning about a monster attacking the city made him leave urgently. He could solve this and finish it in time.

He just didn't know that he wouldn't need to solve it.

While flying, now as Superman, he easily found the villain, it wasn't very difficult to see him in fact. He was the size of a building of at least nine or ten stories, his skin was rocky and hard, made purely of stone. Clark was about to attack the giant when he heard a scream.

Looking through the villain a helicopter was in the way, the pilot tried to maneuver away but they would be enveloped in the confusion. Using his speed, Clark tried to get closer to the helicopter, however it was not enough since it was still far away.

The rocky hand would catch the vehicle before him.

Well, he is not alone.

Before the walking rock caught the propeller and possibly destroyed the vehicle something got attached to the hand and pulled it up, bringing the villain's focus to another place, his distraction was enough for him to catch the helicopter. He noticed as he moved away that what had stopped the giant was... a web? He followed with his gaze the path of the white rope and saw a figure pass quickly on it.

What?

Leaving the helicopter on top of a landing area of ​​a nearby building, he approached the frightened journalists. "Are you hurt?"

The one who answered was the cameraman, who was still breathing heavily, "N-no, Mr. Superman. We're fine-"

"IT'S HER! TYLER FILM, FILM!" The woman's excitement made the man quickly grab his camera. She looked at him and gave a shy smile while holding the microphone, perhaps a little embarrassed by her euphoria. "Oh, Superman, thank you very much. It's just that we never get clear images of her, so you can understand our excitement."

She? She who?

No one needed to answer his question because when he looked at the monster he saw the "she".

A super heroine

Her figure swayed between the giant and the buildings. She wore a suit that covered her entire body, leaving no room to see any of her features. All Clark could see was that she was short, perhaps indicating that she was a teenager.

The monster tried to grab her with its free hand, moving much faster than it had when it was with the helicopter. She, however, brought her webbed wrist towards the giant's face, causing him punched his own face. Swinging away from him, she taunted, her voice echoing off the buildings. "Hey big guy, is that all you know how to do? For someone so tough, you're softer than jelly!"

Hit a nerve, for sure.

"Who is she?" He asked the man who was filming the action with the reporter, even in a situation like that the cameraman looked at the heroine with a glint in his eye, a glint that intrigued Clark.

"Her? She's Spider-Woman."

Spider Woman, he had never heard of this superheroine, but that didn't matter now.The "Spider Woman" swung again on her webs at the stone man's aggression towards her. Superman moved away from the reporters and headed towards the brute. He was quick to bump his fist with the giant's, preventing him from punching a building. The action made the heroine finally notice the Kryptonian. She widened the white eyes of the mask when she saw him flying. "Superman?"

She hung from a building, climbing the glass to get closer to him, she looked at the monster and then at him, her head spinning until she realized something, knowing that he would help her she addressed him. "Hey, Superman. Can you immobilize him for me for at least a few seconds?"

The Kryptonian looked at her, hesitating a little, but then a smile appeared on his lips "Leave it to me."

They moved together at that moment. Clark used his freezing breath on the stone legs, freezing them and immobilizing him to the ground. With the giant still, the spider woman climbed on his back and reached his neck. While the monster struggled, he saw her take a syringe and apply it to the rocky neck. With the liquid entering the monster's veins, he began to scream. Clark was about to intervene when the thunderous scream stopped.

Slowly, pieces of stone fell from the giant, and when they found their end on the ground, they turned into sand, being carried away by the wind. Little by little, the monster began to disintegrate until there was nothing left of him, just a cloud of dust in the place. Approaching to see the damage, he went down and came across the individuals.

The villain, once gigantic and grotesque, was now a thin and small man, passed out in the heroine's arms, while his breathing stabilized, Clark for the first time observed Spider-Woman up close, without being in the heat of battle.

The costume she wore was outlined in black and golden, the fabric was a mix of a dull color and another bright color, the symbol of a spider displayed proudly on her chest, the hood covered the mask on her face, making it difficult to see the white eyes of the mask. What intrigued him most was that it was not common fabric, since when he tried to use his x-ray vision he could not see Spider-Woman's identity.

She certainly knew how to hide her identity.

Just like someone he knew.

"Looking at he now, he doesn't look like a villain."

"And he isn't, they forced him, he's just an ordinary citizen." The dust slowly cleared, now revealing the street they were on. "Honestly, it's a surprise to see you here, shouldn't you be in Metropolis?"

Clark started to sweat a little. True, he should be in Metropolis, not New York, but he couldn't just watch everything on TV, there was a villain attacking the city! And he didn't know New York had a heroine to protect them! How careless of him. "Yeah, actually, I was..."

"was?"

"I-I flew past here! That's it." Spider-woman looked at him before starting to laugh, well at least he tried to hide it, in fact the excuse had been pretty bad.

"Okay, I'll take this as truth, you must have your reasons, don't you, Mr. Clark?"

The aforementioned froze, looking at the spider, who stood up carrying the injured man. The sounds of sirens were heard in the distance, indicating that the police were coming. "What?"

This time, it was the spider woman who froze, realizing her carelessness too late. She looked at him, and even with the mask on her face, he could have sworn a bead of sweat was on his forehead. "Ah, I and my big mouth."

"Do you know my identity? How did you-"

"L-look, I swear it wasn't intentional, seriously! I have... my reasons to know, but I promise! I didn't tell anyone and I won't tell anyone." Superman just looked at her in astonishment, it wasn't intentional? How did she find out then? While the police and ambulance finally arrived, the woman was quick to hand the man over to the police and briefly explained everything, she distanced herself from the police, ready to leave as quickly as possible when he approached her.

"Who are you? Like, really?" She looked at him, clearly anxious to get out of there. "That's... a secret, but like I said, I won't tell anyone, don't worry."

She pulled away from him again, releasing a web from her wrist, already trapping her in a building to resume her run. But before that, she turned to Clark, the tone of her words showing no lies, only truths. "After all..."

"If I wanted to do this, I would have done it nine months ago."

And with that she was gone.

Again, Clark didn't know what he was doing.

It had been a few days since his encounter with Spider-Woman, the revelation that she knew his identity disturbed him, but that wasn't what was going through Clark's head now.

That was who she was.

That woman (or teenager?, Clark doesn't know) had been saving New York for at least a year and absolutely no one in the league knew, she was literally under their noses the whole time and no one knew! But while they didn't know anything, but New York knew, you weren't liked by everyone but most definitely liked you, you gave those people security every day and they trusted you.

You were a real mystery.

In addition, there was the identity issue. Clark wasn't rich, so he didn't have spectacular security to hide his identity, but he always took precautions. You, however, found out so easily. Clark knew that your "it wasn't intentional" statement might be wrong, but whether it was intentional or not, you still did it.

Clark knew that you wouldn't reveal your identity to the world. Your statement made that very clear, but even so, his head itched and itched to meet you.

Maybe he was being hasty, but you were a great heroine, there was no denying that. You fought well, you were smart, and you had experience. You could be a good ally. Besides, Clark doesn't know if you're an adult, so it would be a good way to keep you under supervision.

That's why he's heading back to New York now.

The sun had already set, giving him a view of the beautiful night that had fallen while he was flying, but at that moment Clark was trying to find you.

He didn't know where you could be, in fact he didn't know what to do when he found you, he didn't even know what sparked his interest, he simply... felt. Something about how you were, the mystery surrounding you intrigued him, and Clark simply followed that instinct.

His thoughts were interrupted when his super hearing picked up a sound, of what sounded like running, it could have been anything but his instincts told him to follow the sound, to find the source.

He did.

And thank goodness he did, because he found you.

You were jumping over the buildings, like he had seen you do before, and it was only when you stopped that he could approach you. You were on the edge of the building, looking down at the floors. Clark intended to approach you, but it seemed like you had other plans.

"I thought you had already left." Your voice was neutral, showing no irritation or pleading, it was as white as a sheet, which made him stop, a little surprised that you had discovered him. "I did."

You turned to him, the eyes of the mask you were wearing showing him your confusion, looking him up and down, your reasoning led you to realize why he was here. "You- wait, are you following me?!"

"Following is a very strong word-"

"But you just admitted that you went to the metropolis and came to New York again!" Your arms gestured so quickly thanks to your nervousness that when you realized it you put one of them on your waist and the other you ran your hand over your face.

Clark couldn't help but find this cute.

"Look if this is because of the identity-"

"More or less, but that's not all." Clark's mouth turned into a gentle smile, your brain thinking about the possibilities again, all while you looked at him.

Silence reigned between the two, neither of them wanting to comment before the other, but it seems that Spider-Woman didn't have much time because a sound came from her gauntlet, she quickly accessed it and Clark saw that the "bracelet" was a type of miniature screen attached to the fabric of the suit, you looked at the messages before turning to Clark.

"I'm sorry but I have to go." You looked at the city below, looking at the lights that illuminated the place. Clark was about to speak when you cut him off before. "No offense Superman, but I think it's better if you go back to Metropolis, I don't have time to talk."

You spread your arms wide as you leaned towards the edge of the building, your eyes narrowed affectionately, which contradicted your voice full of irony. "Then this is our last meeting, thank you~"

And then you threw yourself.

Clark flew to the edge, ready to catch up with you, only to be faced with the emptiness of the city, you disappeared before their eyes, like a ghost.

"Then this is our last meeting."

No, it wouldn't be.

And it wasn't.

For the past four months, Clark has been bothering you, appearing out of nowhere, scaring you, helping you, making you more irritated by his constant appearances, making you more dynamic, more ironic, but happy.

It was a confusion of emotions, to tell the truth.

You expected that after a while he would stop doing this, after all he had things to take care of, for example: a city called Metropolis.

But Clark apparently didn't agree with that, because at least once every two weeks he would go to New York just to talk. The weirdest thing is that he started talking about his life to you as if he had known you for years! He talked about how he loved Lois, his relationship with John and Conner, GOD! He even talked about the Daily Planet!

Dude, he didn't even know who you were and he was just talking about his life to you?

You, however, always listened to him, you didn't tell him anything about your life but you didn't stop listening to him either.

Honestly, if you wanted to, you could very well mess with his life.

Good thing you're the heroine here.

As you jumped between buildings, your danger sensor beeped, warning you of something approaching. Knowing who it could be, you went down to the terrace of a building. Your suspicions were confirmed when you felt a gust of air from above. Turning around, you came face to face with the hero who had been on your tail for the last few months: Superman.

Clark had a gentle smile on his face, the smile of a hero, something that conveyed confidence and comfort. And it really did.

"Hello, Mr. Super, you look as happy as ever."

"Yeah, you look as relaxed as ever." He landed in front of you as you leaned against the building's railing, your elbows keeping your body steady as you assumed a carefree posture. Clark glanced at the buildings behind you nervously, uneasy about something. "I hope you don't mind, but we have company today."

You arched an eyebrow in doubt as your danger sensor went off like crazy, you had a few seconds before you turned around and launched a web at the person. You expected to find a criminal or even a super villain, but you were faced with the sunglasses of a teenager in a costume similar to Superman. "Yeah, she's really fast like you said."

What?

Before you could react, a much smaller figure appeared in front of you, just like the teenager (the difference was that he was a child and didn't wear glasses) he also looked a lot like Clark, he floated in front of you, bright and excited eyes directed at you. "Wow! You're so much cooler in person!"

A drop appeared on your head, turning to the man of steel you muttered to him. "Who are-"

"John and Conner." He chuckled softly, seeing your eyes narrow in irritation. "John really wanted to meet you and Conner ended up joining too."

"Oh." You pulled away from John a little as sarcasm flooded your lips. "That's great!"

Conner chuckled softly as you released him from your web, he approached you as he bent down a little to speak to you, since he was taller. "I thought you'd be happy to see us, it's not every day three Kryptonians come to New York to help with crimes." His voice held an undeniable teasing, the low and deep tone of his voice having the words dragged in his speech, it seemed almost sensual.

You stopped as you watched the other two, John and Clark froze, their gazes fixed on Conner, who you had confirmed was trying to subtly court you.

But you're not the shy girl here.

You approached him, close enough to be face to face, your breath could be felt on his mask. Conner, surprised by your bold move, leaned back, his cheeks flushed with your approach. "Well, New York is already protected by its heroine every day, so I don't need help." The smile on your face grew when Conner turned redder at the sound of your voice.

You quickly moved away from him and hung on the ledge, you turned to him, your figure shining with the lights in the city. "Then watch me do my job, mini super."

You fell from the building, the wind shaking your hood as you fell. Before hitting the ground, you threw a web up and climbed up again, hanging on one at a time. As your figure moved away, Conner and John looked at you. "Damn."

"You better come, or we'll end up losing her."

The night would be very long.

"OH GOSH, I'm so tired!" You yawned as you hung on the webs, it was almost four in the morning and you decided to go home. The supers had already left, you believe they were tired too (Especially Conner, where you and he played flirting all night).

You stopped on the terrace while looking around, seeing if someone or something had followed you, seeing no threat you hung on your web and slowly fell to your apartment, you opened the balcony door and as soon as you entered you were greeted by a satisfied meow.

Looking at the sofa in the living room, you saw Mooly lying on the cushion, the little black kitten moving and going to your ankle, cunning for affection. You laughed softly and picked her up gently, while placing her in your arms. "Hey, haven't you gone to sleep yet?"

As you petted the little one, footsteps were heard throughout the house, when you looked up you came across a large white vinyl robot, its form being embraced by its shadows, its round eyes shining in the dark space.

You looked at it and it did the same, the atmosphere apparently cold and tense to those looking from the outside, but completely the opposite for those who live in this house. The robot bowed respectfully, its voice, calm and tobotic, showed deep down a contained joy, reserved only for those close to it.

"It's so good to see you home." He stood up from his position, round eyes blinking slightly in the darkness of the apartment.

"Master (Name)."

You smiled as you set Mooly down on the couch again, you raised your hand to his neck and squeezed it, causing his mask to retract, revealing his identity. His face, the face of someone forgotten is a frequent presence on the walls here.

(Name) Wayne, the Spider-Woman, the missing daughter, the useless Wayne. His face was older than before, aged like red wine, clearly showing that you took after your father, since your face was just like his. Beautiful and exquisite, cold and deadly.

"It's good to be home Mark, where's Alex?" You asked as you squeezed your shoulder, which was a bit sore from today's patrol.

"Mrs. Alex is already asleep, she said she couldn't stand listening to you flirting with Superboy anymore."This made you laugh out loud, you could imagine Alex covering his ears so he wouldn't hear the two of you. You pressed the bracelet on your wrist and in a flash your suit retracted into the bracelet, showing your figure that had a loose blouse and pants. You stretched, heading towards the bathroom.

"Well, I guess I better go too, tomorrow I have a college project and Mrs. Vivian wants me early at the coffee shop" before you could get there Mark called you, his voice echoing through the house. "You got a message from Master Billy."

You stopped and looked at Mark, the notification displayed on his cute belly from an ologram. "Did he send it at this time?" The robot shook his head and handed the phone to you.

Opening your messages you went straight to Billy's contact, concern starting to creep in on you, but then again, you should know how Billy is.

Because when you saw the message you felt your stomach churn.

Billy Batson was eating the most beautiful and delicious candy you had ever seen in your entire life, and he sent it to you even though he knew about your addiction to sweets.

That little shit-

You quickly typed furiously on the cell phone keyboard, not caring that it was late, just wanting to curse Batson for making you feel hungry when you planned on not having dinner.

'Fuck, I hate you Batson ಥ_ಥ'

His answer didn't take more than a few seconds to come, his response irritating you even more.

'HEY, you finally answered me, I was already worried. Besides, I know you love me 𖹭𖹭𖹭(∪ ◡ ∪)'

'I promise I'll buy one for you, good night little spider ツ'

'...good night Billy.'

You wanted to cry, that's it.

Especially because you were hungry now.

Knowing your fate, you threw the cellphone on the couch and turned on the kitchen light, you heard Mooly and Mark's footsteps following you.

"I think there are still ingredients for a mug cake, right?" eating now wouldn't hurt.

"Bruce? BRUCE!" The aforementioned looked at the entrance of the batcave where Tim and Jason had rushed in. The two looked like they had seen a ghost, sweaty and pale, still in their suits. "Tim, what is it?"

"You- You need to see this!" He sighed heavily as he threw himself into the chair at the control panel, his fingers typing faster than he had seen them on missions. Bruce looked at Jason, who was standing next to him, who had a burning look on his face, hope hidden behind his eyes.

What's going on?

Bruce didn't need to ask, because Tim began to explain to him. "Since the accident with... (Name), I've never found any clues..." Bruce shuddered at the sound of your name, they didn't talk about that subject.

Even after three years it still hurt.

"But that was because I wasn't looking in the right place!" The teenager put up the pictures of the bus that had been carrying you that day, only the wreckage that was left was in the picture. "But now-now I know where to look."

"Last year, Star City had several people kidnapped suddenly, just like (Name) no one found any clues about the case, but Jason and Roy investigated thoroughly and managed to find a kind of underground dungeon where the kidnapped people would be."

Now on the computer was the picture of the bus and of a kind of what Bruce would call a mental hospital. The place was so rotten and filthy that Bruce wondered if anyone lived there. "Apparently there's nothing, but if you look behind each of the huge graffiti on the wall..."

Tim, using the program, removed the graffiti, which gave Bruce a view of the white walls, but in the middle of them, pieces of something nonsensical resided there. "... and put them together."

The movement in Tim's hands moved the images on the wall, distorting and shaping them until one completed the other, making the nonsensical make sense.

"A symbol."

The symbol of a womb wrapped around a two-headed serpent.

"Do you know where else this symbol is?" Tim again returned to the image of the bus wreckage, he shaped the image and put together pieces of the walls that resulted in the same symbol, but with small parts missing. "So you mean-"

"That the same people who kidnapped the people in Star City were the ones who kidnapped (Name)." Jason answered for the two, his tone as dejected as Bruce's.

He can't blame him, he's in a similar state.

"The problem is that I can't find out what it means, I've tried on the Internet, in history books, even on Wikipedia! But I haven't found anything."

The crushing silence suffocated those present, leaving invisible marks on their being. "It has to have a meaning, anything- okay, what does it mean to a womb?!"

"Jason, this is stupid-"

"No, but we have to try! Shit, you only looked in science books or-or whatever, but have you tried to look for anything related to mythology?" Tim thought for a moment, but shook his head negatively.

"The womb refers to the woman, the mother. Now, what does a two-headed snake refer to?" Bruce asked no one in particular, his thoughts searching for the knowledge he had about it.

"Would it be a mother snake? That's nonsense."

Jason thought for a moment and realized something. "Technically, it's not." The red hood searched the control panel while talking to Robin and Batman.

"In Greek mythology, there was a creature that was half snake and half woman." The mythological image appeared next to the symbol. The grotesque figure of the creature somehow referred to the symbol.

"She was known as the mother of monsters."

"Echidna."

HI GUYS, this chapter was a lot of work, I had a lot of blockages but I managed to do it.

Now I have a question to ask: Is Conner treated as Clark's son or brother?

You already know that I haven't read the comics, I've watched Young Justice (at least there it gave the impression that Conner would be treated as Clark's son) but on Wikipedia it says that Conner is treated as John's uncle, please answer me 😭.

I'm also doing a reader drawing (NON-CANONIC), I think I'll do headcanons too. I'll possibly leave a link below.

Ok, let's go to the Tag list \(•◡•)/:

@daiyanomochi - @amber-content - @wizzerreblogs - @foggyv-oid - @kore-of-the-underworld - @theunknowntravel3r - @space1crow - @shortnsweetsposts - @popursocks - @sugasweettea - @salfishers - @itachisank - @jsprien213 - @infirebaby - @yhin-gg -@h-ib @bunbunboysworld - @h-ib - @sheep-from-rad - @tatsuri-zomushiki - @the-holy-pigeon - @geminis93 - @horror-lover-69 - @mybones537 - @eyeless-kun - @timotheechalametswifeys - @justabreadslice - @nymphzy0 - @1-800-g00ber - @pix-stuff - @jsprien213

sorry for any mistakes.

Bye 𖹭

[vraiao]

kenma drabbles bc i miss him

✰ . fem!reader, 3 different scenarios, future/timeskip adult kenma, cream pie, riding, fingering, oral(reader receiving), spit(very brief mention), gentle but kinda mean(?) kenma, biting(also very brief mention), a little bit of tit play

a/n: accidentally woke up this morning at 4:40 am and literally could not go back to sleep until i finished this so here you lovelies go!

1

timeskip!kenma who, despite having more of a life now, still makes time for occasional catching up and gaming with his old friends. of course, not without you in his lap <3. after years with this little gaming hobby, he’s usually adept enough at whatever game he and his friends have chosen to play with one hand. so he’s got one hand on the keyboard while the other holds your waist, your clothes and panties pushed out of the way while he stuffs his cock up into you in a steady rhythm.

your arms are wrapped around his neck, face buried into the crook of it as you bite down on your swollen lips to try and keep quiet so his mic doesn’t pic up your pathetic attempts at silence. kenma, on the other hand, is chatting, laughing, and skillfully playing like he isn’t bouncing you up and down on his dick. a little cruel? yes, no, maybe so, but it’s even worse when your vision starts to go spotty and you speed up your hips a little bit because you’re close to cumming and he mutes his mic for just a second to whisper in your ear, “don’t cum yet, okay baby? hold it until i say so.”

you don’t even get a chance to respond before he’s unmuted, resuming his conversation while you suffer in silence. you can’t finish yet, but he certainly doesn’t want you to stop, so you’re slowing your pace down again, pulling out a little less each time and swirling your hips in a steady rhythm while you try to think about literally anything else besides that release you’re so desperately craving. his hand on your waist moves down to squeeze your ass, pulling back and giving it a little smack that made a hand of yours fly to your mouth to conceal the yelp that nearly jumped from your throat. luckily, his idiot friends suspected nothing.

kenma lightly chuckled, placing a kiss or two on your cheek before resuming what he was doing. how mean yet oh so gentle of him </3. but never fear, this sweet torture won’t last much longer! when he’s finished up another round or two and said his goodbyes to his pals, he’d pull off his headset and turn off his computer so that he can focus his attention on the mess in his lap(you). he gently pulls your face back out of his neck so he can kiss you, steadying both hands on your waist to move you a little faster and buck his hips up, angling them just perfectly so that his tip repeatedly hits that spongy spot inside of you, pulling pathetic whines from you that spilled directly into his mouth.

the man himself is starting to lose his composure a little bit, because honestly he was ready to cum a while ago, but he wanted to savor it first. he cares not for holding it back anymore, so his grip on your hips is a little bruising as he chases his high. “you’ve been such a good girl for me,” he murmurs into your sloppy kiss, “cum with me, my precious girl.” he practically groans that pet name as it rolls off his tongue, and that’s enough to have you doing what he says immediately.

you try to keep your eyes from squeezing shut, wanton moans breaking past your lips with no control as you’re coming undone, pussy convulsing erratically while it spills out all the juices you were holding back and creates a mess in his lap. the broken whimper of his name that he heard was enough to do it for him, and he was throwing his head back with a satisfied moan while he spilled all of his cum deep inside, bucking his hips up and slamming you down on his cock in an unsteady motion while he fucked both of you through your orgasms. you both made a total mess between your legs, but for now he’d hold you close in his arms and clean you up a little later <3.

2

timeskip!kenma who cannot keep his hands off of you. no matter what. of course, he has ..adequate self control like any other, but you’d be rich if you got paid every time you had to swat his hand away from riding too far up your thigh when the two of you were out together. so, naturally, when you’re alone, you can hardly catch a break. here’s is how it usually goes.

you’re sitting together on the couch, looking for a movie on what’s supposed to be an innocent night. there’s a bowl of popcorn between you two, but kenma has his arm lazily draped over your shoulders to keep you nice and close. remote in the other hand, it doesn’t take him long to find a movie to switch on and toss the device aside. for the first twenty or thirty minutes or so, he’ll leave you alone. but as soon as he sees that you’re no longer eating the popcorn, he’ll take the bowl and set it aside on the coffee table so he can scorch even closer in a not-so-sly way.

his hand on your shoulder moves down to steady on your hip and effectively trap you against him, and his free hand is already rubbing at your knee. your ignore him at first, thinking nothing of it until his hand slides further and further up your leg and to your thigh. you let out a sigh and slightly frown at this man who’s sex drive never seems to rest, but he gives you that look you can never say no to, so you oblige when he starts to pull your thighs apart.

he’s reaching further up between your inner thighs to pull your shorts aside, grinning to himself when he presses his fingers against the forming damp spot on your panties. he pulls those aside too, running two fingers along your slit, watching in satisfaction as your hole pulses around nothing. he slips one finger in, pumping it in and out a few times, testing the waters before he shoves in a second. you sigh in satisfaction at the feeling when he picks up a steady pace, twisting and curling his digits just right and just deep enough inside.

you’re hardly focused on the movie buzzing in the background now, because all your ears can pick up are the obscenely filthy squelching sounds of his fingers swirling around your insides with practiced ease, and your soft moans are drowning out whatever the hell’s happening on the screen. his free hand pulls your thigh further apart, draping it over his legs so he can reach just a little deeper. you let out a particularly sharp whine when his fingers find your sweet spot and curl, repeatedly pressing into it with enough pressure to make your head spin in circles.

kenma isn’t even doing this to have you falling apart, he just likes the warm feeling of his fingers scissoring in and out of your cunt. so throughout the movie he’s finger fucking you slowly, only slightly rubbing your poor, abused clit with his thumb every few minutes. you can’t take it, mind empty and impatience through the roof as he brings you near the edge just to slow down some more right before you hit it. by time the credits roll, you’ve had enough, but what can you do?

luckily for you, he was feeling nice today. you gasp when he slips a third finger in, suddenly flicking his wrist at an insane speed as he brings you closer to that sweet euphoria. his thumb is pressed against your clit, rubbing back and forth over it in tandem with the harsh speed of his fingers. your head is thrown back against the couch cushions, shamelessly pathetic whines pouring from your mouth like a symphony as they increase in pitch and frequency.

your vision flashes white hot and your squirting all over his fingers, even spraying up his wrist some while he continues his brutal pace to finger fuck you through it. he slows down when he’s sure he’s milked you dry, and he’s pulling out his fingers to go and find a cloth to clean you up. of course, not before he makes a show of cleaning himself up by lolling his tongue out and languidly licking all over his fingers, making sure to lap up every drop you spilled on him.

3

timeskip!kenma who happens to have you listed as his favorite meal. some mornings he’ll even skip breakfast just to have a taste. on a morning after he spent the night pounding you into the sheets and bending you in ways you never thought possible, the both of you were lying naked in each others arms just rousing from slumber as he gently stroked a hand through your hair. “was it too rough last night?,” he asks as his other hand gently rubs over all the hickeys and bites he left on your skin. maybe a little, but you weren’t complaining.

he presses a gentle kiss on your lips, and when he pulls back, that look in his eyes tell you he’s already got more filthy ideas swirling around in that head of his. “if you’re sore, i can kiss it better for you,” he suggests. you roll your eyes, but who would you be to deny a hungry man? you barely get a nod in before he’s pushing you back and crawling on top of you, pressing his lips against yours as his hands eagerly explore your soft skin.

kenma kisses you long enough to steal every molecule of oxygen from your lungs before he starts to pepper kisses down your neck, your collarbones, further down. he pauses at your tits to give them the attention they deserve, immediately popping one into his mouth to lightly bite and swirl his tongue around the nipple while he rolls the other between the pads of his fingers. he pulls his mouth off after a moment to give the other the same treatment, making sure both of your boobs are nice and taken care of before his kisses start to trail further down again.

he’s peppering featherlight pecks all over your stomach, his hair falling down and slightly tickling your skin as he makes sure to worship every inch of it. he’s prying your thighs apart, wrapping his arms around them to hold them in place, hot and heavy breath fanning over his breakfast. kenma grins, placing sweet kisses over your clit and dripping hole before licking a long, slow stripe up your slit all the way from the bottom to the top.

kenma flattens his tongue agains your clit, wrapping his lips around it to lick and suck and make sure to be loud, but of course not louder than the pretty soft sighs and whines that he’s pulling from you. after a moment he moves his mouth down, tongue prodding at your entrance and slipping inside with practiced ease while his nose still occasionally bumps your little sensitive pearl. your legs are trembling, mouth falling slack when you feel that warm, wet muscle swirling around inside your hole.

he does this with such skill and precision, licking in all the right places to make you sing a prettier song than the morning birds. every so often he’s groaning right into your pussy, sending vibrations to your core that make you slightly arch your back off the bed. “you taste so sweet. i can’t get enough,” he’d murmur against your sensitive skin. he suddenly lifts his head up to which you whine in response before he lolls his tongue out and lets a drop of spit fall right on your clit.

he watches it drip down your pussy before he’s diving in again, slurping and licking at your clit to smear the mess before moving down and slipping his tongue right back in your hole. he brings a hand forward, slipping two fingers in and thrusting them in and out in tandem with his tongue. your hands are flying to his hair, gripping and tangling in his long, grown out black roots as your legs tremble and your back arches further off the bed, jaw lodged open as you moan uncontrollably.

the worst part? kenma doesn’t break eye contact once and he’s reminded you before that he’d like you to do the same, so you’re torturing yourself trying to keep your eyes open and on his while he eats you out like a man starved. his other hand moves up so he can rub your clit, and your mind practically shuts off. he adds a third finger and after a few pumps you can’t take it anymore, throwing your head back and practically screaming his name as you came all over his hand and face. as always, he finger fucks and licks you through it until your back slumps against the bed and you’re breathlessly panting trying to chase oxygen back in your lungs.

kenma pulls off just a little, mouth, chin, and fingers all glistening with your mess. he licks his lips, and as you look down at him you can see that hunger still blazing in his eyes. he thinks he’ll help himself to a few more courses <3!

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Hold Me (More Like That)

Main Masterlist - Dean Masterlist

Read on A03!

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, fluff, pre-established relationship, lotta smut (oral m! receiving, p in v sex)

Summary/Warnings: Dean takes a second to pick up on what you want, but doesn't disappoint once he starts to play your game.

Author's Note: Sorta request from an anon! I wanna be thrown around so bad you guys don't even know.

Word Count: 3.3k

“I bet I could beat you in a fight.”

“Sure, sweetheart.”

“I could.” You push up on Dean’s chest, glaring at him in the shifting light of the TV. “You don’t believe in me.”

A small smile plays on Dean’s lips, but he doesn’t look away from the movie. “Never said that. I’m pretty damn sure I agreed with you-“

“Yeah, but you said sure.” You drop your tone to mimic his, and that gets his attention. “That’s how you say sure when you don’t really agree, Dean, I know you-“

“Alright.” Dean catches your finger as you poke his chest. “I don’t think you could beat me in a fight, baby. You win.”

You whack his chest, and his grin only grows. 

“That what you wanted to hear?”

“You know it’s not-“

“Then you want me to keep lyin’?”

You roll your eyes at him. “No, I want you to admit I’d beat you.”

“Okay.” Dean shrugs, kissing your knuckles before turning back to the TV. “You’d beat me. You’d kick my ass, Sammy would have to drive me to the hospital, and- Oof-“

You’d climbed on top of him, straddling his waist and bracing your hands on his shoulders. Dean raises his brows with a half amused, half befuddled expression, and his hands fly to your hips in half a second.

He could push you off—easily, too—but he won’t. 

You really want him to. 

“I bet I could beat you.” You lean down until your noses are almost bumping. “In a fight.”

“Yeah, I heard you the first time,” Dean hums your name, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing small circles on the bare skin under your shirt. “What’re you doing?”

You shrug. “Trying to make you take me seriously.”

“I always take you seriously-“

“No. You don’t think I could beat you.”

For a man you know looks for any reason to jump your bones—you’ve seen him walk you back against a wall because the wind blew up your skirt, and he needs to check you’re okay—Dean is impressively confused about what’s happening. He just keeps looking at you in confusion, holding you firm enough by your hips you know he’s not going to take your bait and toss you around. You’re going to have to step it up. 

You love him. He’s adorable and sweet and trying really hard to be a good boyfriend, to the point that you feel sort of bad about what’s about to happen, but you’ll get over it. Call it vengeance for when he tried to prove he could change a tire faster than you could, and it was just an excuse to fuck you on the hood of the car. 

“C’mon.” You drag his hands off your hips, pinning them to the couch, and he doesn’t fight you at all. “I can win, Dean.”

“Yeah, you could-“

“Stop agreeing with me-“

He snorts, putting on a weak, mock show of trying to push out of your grip, but mostly just flexing his arms and making the heat in your core spark. “Look, sweetheart, you’re stronger-“

“I didn’t say I was stronger,” you grind down onto him, disguising it as a just a shift of your body, and Dean’s jaw twitches slightly. “I said I could beat you.”

You grind again, and he lets out a long, slow breath. 

Progress.

“You want the truth, baby?” He gives you a pointed look, still not struggling against you, and you nod. 

“I could-“

“No, you couldn’t.” Dean shrugs, and to sort of obviously prove his point, pushes just one hand out of your hold to wrap around your waist. “Not ‘cause I don’t think you’re strong, or smart, or sexy as fuck when you kick ass. But I would beat you. I’ve beaten Sam, and he’s a fuckin’ Sasquatch. It’s my freakin’ job-“

“It’s my job, too-“

“It’s your job when we’re real short on hands.” Dean eyes narrow, and that was the right button. He doesn’t like the maybe you should hunt more conversation. “And we’re not.”

You raise your brows. “So I couldn’t beat you because I don’t hunt?”

“Yes- No-“ He sighs, hauling you a little further up his chest. “You just couldn’t beat me, baby, I promise-“

“Prove it.”

Dean frowns at you. “What?”

“If you think I can’t beat you.” You grab his arm around you—he lets you move it again, but that’s fine, you don’t actually care about winning—and pin it back down. “Then prove it.”

“I’m not gonna fight you, sweetheart-“

You shrug. “Then I win. And if I can beat Dean Winchester in a fight, maybe I should hunt more-“

That does it. Your words turn into a yelp as Dean flips you over like it’s nothing, pinning your hands over your head and pressing his hips down to keep you pinned to the couch. You have to take a quick breath to stop from caving right away, but you can see his muscles rippling through his shirt and his eyes shamelessly scanning your form below him, and he’s half-hard already and pressed right into your thigh-

“I don’t know what goin’ on with you.” His voice is a half growl, and the sound almost vibrates through your body. “But I can beat you, babygirl. And you fuckin’ hate hunting-“

“Maybe I just miss you when you’re gone,” you challenge, hooking your leg around him and flipping him back over with a grunt. “You always leave me, De, and I get lonely-“

He snorts, standing up with you almost thrown over his should. “I call you every day, smartass, and I never hear you complaining when you cum from just me talkin’ to you.”

“Not the- fuck-“ You’re trying to squirm away as he walks through the halls of the bunker—the movie long forgotten—but it’s not working in your favor. “It’s not the same-“

“Then you can come on a few hunts and stay in the hotel.”

He needs to stop being so rational and sweet. “No, I want to hunt-“

“No, you don’t.”

“Don’t tell me what I want, Dean-“

You squeak as he drops you onto the mattress, standing over you with a glower. 

“You don’t want to hunt,” he grunts your name, grabbing your face between his hands with an adoring, vaguely annoyed expression. “You hate it, you always get mad about blood on your clothing- Hell, you get pissed about blood on my clothing-“

“I’m over it.” You lie quickly, and throw all your weight into pulling Dean down. He lands on the mattress with a grunt, and you crawl back on top of him with a grin. “I can beat you, Dean. You haven’t proven I can’t.”

He shakes his head. “I told you I’m not fighting you, sweetheart-“

“Cause you’ll lose.”

“I-“ His eyes narrow on yours, right as you wiggle slightly, and you know that expression.

You won.

“If I beat you, you drop the hunting thing.”

You nod quickly, and don’t even get the chance to say deal before Dean’s moving. He flips your back over with practiced ease, and he probably could’ve won right there, but you’re determined to put on a mock show. So when his hand go to pin both of yours, you worm then against his chest and shove right into his gut. It catches him off guard, just enough for you to roll away and scramble up onto his back, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Dean grunts, and rises up on his knees before dropping onto his side, just enough to knock the wind slightly out of your chest, and pry you off his neck. You try to roll away, but he’s—somehow—faster, and catches you by the waist, hauling you right up into his lap and pinning your arms behind your back with one hand, the other grabbing your jaw to keep your gaze trapped on his. 

And you’ve lost. It was only a few seconds of fighting, but you lost dramatically. 

In Dean’s eyes, at least, you lost.

But you feel a little high, right now. Dean’s big and warm and all around you, touching you everywhere with his chest pressed right against your breasts and his legs wrapped around you to keep you pinned to him. There’s a building, almost mind-numbing ache for him between your thighs, and you can feel his muscles every time he shifts, and he barely out of breath but you’re a giggling, needy mess his arms, and-

You can see the exact moment it hits him. He blinks at you for a second, his grip tightening on your jaw just enough to pull out a tiny, soft moan, and his cock twitches against your leg.

“You’re fucking-“ He cuts himself off with a groan and shake of his head. “Son of a bitch, sweetheart, if you wanted to be fucked, you coulda told me.”

You shake your head, still beaming at him like an idiot. “Better when you mean it. I- I wanna feel you, Dean, please-“

“Please, what?” He hums, squeezing your jaw again, right as he thrusts up against your clothed cunt. “Please fuck you? Toss you around? Or should I make you wait, for giving me a damn heart attack about hunting?”

You flush, and shake your head. “I’m sorry, I just- You weren’t getting it and I- I wanted-“

“I know what you wanted.” Dean shrugs, grinning down at you. “You wanted me to touch you, didn’t you.”

You nod desperately, and he’s so close. His lips brushing over yours, his grip on you tight and perfect and god-

“You wanna touch me, babygirl?” His question is a low, teasing hum, his hips jerking up again to make sure you can feel how hard he is, and a high, needy moan escapes your lips. 

“Dean, please-“

He shakes his head, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Answer the question, sweetheart-“

“Yes- I do, I need it-“

“Yeah, you do.” He mutters, his hand on your jaw dragging down to rest lightly on your throat. “Lie down.”

You scramble back the second Dean lets go of you, settling into the pillows and giving him your prettiest, most hopeful doe-eyed look. He just chuckles, peeling his shirt and jeans at a painfully slow speed, and gives you a pointed expression. He doesn’t have to say it aloud to know what he’s asking. You know him well enough.

“Not those,” he grunts when you go for your panties, the rest of your clothing now discarded onto the floor. “Wanna rip them off you.”

You sigh, pouting up at him, and it hard not to get dizzy from his attention—standing at the edge of the bed, all strength and softness, stroking his cock to the sight of you below him—but you manage. “You always rip them off of me, Dean, I’m going to run out of underwear-“

“Good.” He mutters, starting to prowl over you with an almost feral grin, and you roll your eyes.

“Dean-“

“Don’t worry, baby.” He hums, and your protests about the panties die in your throat as he stops right over you, pressing his thick cock right on your lower lip. “I’ll buy you new ones.”

You hum, blinking hopefully up at him as you open your mouth, and he nods. Dean’s hand tangles in your hair as he slides into your mouth, and you moan shamelessly around him, making his hips jerk and his dick press right against the back of your throat. 

“Fuck,” Dean groans your name, and you suck on him, swirling your tongue around the head of his cock as he pulls slightly out. “You’re gonna choke, you can’t- Shit-“

It’s too easy to whine and run your tongue up his shaft, and he ruts into your mouth with a groan. 

“God- You’re-“ He glares down at you, and you return it with an innocent expression. “You’re gonna kill me, sweetheart.”

You just blink at him sweetly, grabbing his thighs, and trying to guide him deeper into your mouth, and his brows raise, his voice suddenly a slight rasp.

“More, baby?” 

You hum, already grinding into the sheets from the feeling of him heavy in your mouth and the intensity of his gaze, and Dean groans. 

“You gotta stop me if it’s too much-“ You swallow around him, and his words turn into a loud moan that goes straight between your legs.

The leash Dean’s been keeping on his movements snaps, and your eyes roll back in your head with pleasure as he starts to fuck your mouth. You can feel his gaze as the lewd sounds of his balls slapping your chin and his cock sliding in and out of your lips fills the room. Your nails are digging into his thighs, and your breathing is heavy through your nose, but it feels so good.

There’s all the power of him over you, making you lightheaded and your pussy start to clench around nothing every time he groans your name. You can taste the salt of his precum on your tongue whenever you manage to flick it over the head of him, and when you whimper around him, he always pulls all the way out before slamming back it and groaning your name. 

He’s getting close. You can feel it in the growing sloppiness of his thrusts and the tightness of his grip on your hair. So you double your effort and start to suck him off best you can, but all you can really remember how to do is wiggle and moan-

Dean pulls aways with groan, and your eyes flutter open to see him looking down at you with borderline wonder, his arm braced on the headboard above you and his chest heaving.

“You’re too good at that.” He mutters, moving his hand from your hair to wipe a little bit of drool over your cheek. “Almost came in your mouth, sweetheart.”

You open your mouth again, sticking your tongue out, and he groans, leaning back with a shake of his head. 

“Need to fuck you,” he grunts, shifting so your caged below his arms, his brow pressed against yours. “I’m gonna make you cum ‘till you can’t walk, baby. That sound good?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, spreading your legs as wide as you can. “Good. Touch me, Dean, I- I need you-“

“I know you do.” Rough, warm fingers dance on your panties, teasing on your inner thigh for a second before ripping them away, and running over your pussy. “So fucking wet for me, babygirl, need it that bad?”

You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Yes, please-“

Dean cuts you off with a long, sloppy kiss, and you gasp his name into his mouth, grinding onto the palm of his hand in chance of any relief.

“You wanna try and wrestle again?” He hums, rubbing his hand right over your clit. “Or you gonna let me take care of my girl.”

“Take care.” Your voice is barely a breath, but you might fly out of your mind if he doesn’t really, properly fuck you. “Dean, your cock, I need it-“

His hand moves away, but you don’t get a moment to complain before Dean’s shoving himself into you with one rough movement, and your back is arching off the bed.

“That’s right, baby.” His voice is a teasing coo, but you don’t really care. He’s earned it, and it feels so good, being filled up and split open with him all over you and kissing up your neck- “You’re so fuckin’ tight, son of a bitch-“

“Dean.” You gasp, and his mouth crashes back over yours, kissing you into the pillows until you’re limp in his arms, only fluttering desperately around his cock. “Move-“

He groans into your mouth, and your breath hitches in your throat as he slams into you. You wrap your arms around him tight enough to strangle him, just he doesn’t even flinch, just moaning your name and repeating the movement once more. Pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in, then starts to fuck you like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. 

Sometimes, Dean likes to sit up and watch you come apart below him, or flip you over and fuck you into the mattress. But he knows what you need right now is to just keep feeling him, everywhere, and he’s perfect so that’s exactly what he gives you. Almost holding you off the mattress like it’s nothing, fucking into your pussy with a feverish pace, until your head is falling back with pleasure as he hits that deep, painfully needy spot deep inside you. 

His lips attach to your throat, biting and sucking small marks that make your mouth fall open in a silent scream, and your start to grind onto him. Trying to get your clit to rub on his abdomen, because you’re so fucking close-

Dean grabs your ankles, shifting your around below him without ever breaking pace, and only once you’re securely hanging off his body does his arm wrap around your waist and-

You spasm as his fingers find your clit and start to rub tight, firm circles, and you cum with a scream of his name. He just groans, fucking into you harder as you spasm around his cock, and you’re not coming down. Dean pushes your back down onto the mattress, slams his lips back over yours and angling your hips further up, and you stare up at him as he just keeps fucking you. Your orgasm crests into another one, and there’s a strange, new heat building in your core that’s hot and tight, and-

Dean slams hip hips at the right angle to almost bruise your g-spot, right as his fingers on your clit pinch, and your body goes loose as the coil snaps. Something wet is gushing out of you and running between your legs, and Dean’s jaw is clenched as he drops his brow to yours, his eyes fluttering as he tenses over you.

“Dean.” You whisper, running your fingers through his hair. “Please. On me.”

He stares at you for barely a second before giving a tight nod, and sitting up on his knees. He pulls out with his hand braced on your hip, and it’s a beautiful sight. Dean beating his cock into his hand at the sight of you wrecked and fucked out, thick white cum shooting over your stomach and cunt as he cums with a moan of your name. 

He collapses over you with a grunt, and you hum happily, your fingers shooting into his hair. 

“That what you wanted, baby?” He hums into your ear, and you nod.

“Perfect. Thank you, my love.” 

He grunts as your kiss the side of his head, shifting down to bury his face between your breasts. 

“Love you too.” He grumbles, wrapping his around your body, and you beam up at the ceiling. “Even when you play dumb tricks.”

“I think you liked that trick.”

He shrugs. “Maybe. But next time, just freakin’ ask me to fuck you stupid.”

You hum. “Dean?”

He grunts, and you tug on his hair, forcing his gaze up to yours. 

“Can you fuck me stupid.”

His lips twitch and he grabs your hand, turning it to press a kiss to your palm. “Jesus, sweetheart-“

“Please?” You flutter your lashes at him, and he sighs. 

“Gimme ten. In the shower?”

You give him an amused look. “You just wanna cum on me again.”

“Yep.” He grins up at you. “You love it.”

“I do.” You mumble. “But you like it when I play dumb tricks.”

He rolls his eyes, but hauls your upright, standing with you cradled in his arms and a kiss to the side of your head. “Yeah, sweetheart. But I think I just like you.”

End Note: It's probably good for my productiveness that Dean isn't real. I'd never get anything done again.

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[spicyspiders]

with different eyes and no shame

Mark Grayson variant x male reader smut

3.8k words

Stay inside, the text from Mark said.

This had a lot more angst than I expected to write. Warning for smut, bottom male reader, slight bloodplay, slight cum inflation, and the Mark variant being overall rough with the reader. I didn't really have a variant in mind when I was writing this, so any could be thought of when reading :)

Stay inside

The text was only two words, but still managed to send a chill down your spine. An hour later when nothing has happened, you can feel your body slowly relax. Still, you can’t help but look out your window one last time to make sure whatever Mark wanted you to stay inside and avoid has passed. 

A part of you felt hysterical as you looked out the window. You weren’t sure if being friends with a superhero and everything that came with that was now catching up with you, or if it was from your brain trying to focus on everything your eyes outside were trying to track. 

You hear the sound of a thump in your bedroom, signaling that Mark is here. It was a habit he developed over time you thought was silly, reminding you so much of when you were younger. You hoped Mark would grow out of it, but maybe it was a superhero rule he had that he could only fly through windows when entering homes. 

“I have a front door, you know,” you say, swinging your bedroom door open. The sun had gone down by the time Mark had texted and you managed to calm down, making the walk to your bedroom dark, and the state of your bedroom wasn’t any better. 

Mark almost looked ominous standing in what little light was left from the day, his back facing the window. Your first clue should have been the color of his suit, but you were too stupid to realize. 

“Mark?” You asked, “is everything okay?”

“Why wouldn’t everything be okay?” He questioned back with a chuckle.

“You told me to stay inside,” you answered in confusion, “and is that a new suit?” You asked as Mark slowly turned around, your eyes glued to his seemingly new suit, “did something happen to the one you just got?”

“You worry too much,” Mark responded, still shrouded in the shadows. He stepped out of the darkness slowly, making it known that this wasn’t your Mark, “you both did,” he said, his voice low. 

Your heart pounded in your chest, growing faster and faster as Mark came closer, “who are you?” You whispered, backing up slowly. 

“I’m Mark,” he responds with a smile. 

You continue inching backward, shaking your head, “who are you?” You repeat, your back coming into contact with your wall. 

Mark’s smile turns sinister, “I’m Mark,” he says again, “and I already know what you’re thinking, and yes, I’m not your Mark,” he backs you further into the wall, making you hope that you would somehow fall through. But if this Mark was anything like yours, he’d easily be able to follow. “I also know that you’re thinking about running,” he lets out a laugh before he continues, “but I’ll break your fucking legs if you try.”

“Please,” you whisper, turning your face away when Mark’s hands reach out, “don’t hurt me,” you say, closing your hands when you feel his fingers on your face. 

“I’d never hurt you,” Mark says, forcefully turning your head to face him. 

After moments of tense silence, you open your eyes slowly to look at Mark, his gaze fixed upon you with an unreadable expression. 

“I’d never hurt you,” he repeats, “I finally have you again,” he says, his tone matching his soft words, but it doesn’t last. “I won’t lose you,” he growls, his voice dark and full of promise. And with those words, he seals that promise with a kiss. 

You weren’t even sure if kiss was the right word to call it, it felt like Mark– this version of Mark was trying to devour you whole. Though he looked and sounded like Mark, you knew this version wasn’t yours, but that didn’t stop the overwhelming rush of emotions. 

There was a longing for Mark that had gotten to the point where you didn’t remember when it started, and had gone on for so long, that you didn’t know if it would ever. You had just managed to somehow get it to the point that you were happy. 

You loved Mark, and Eve nearly as long as you’d known her, so you wanted them to be happy. There were moments where it could feel bittersweet not only to see the man you had feelings for get with someone else, but to see that other person be someone you also cared about. There were also moments though, ones that had come up much more frequently where you felt hopeful. Hopeful that you were moving on, and hopeful for the future. 

You just didn’t think that who you would be moving on with would be another version of who you originally fell for. If moving on was even what you could call it, you weren’t sure if the phrase could be used in situations where it was being forced onto you. 

Though you knew this one wasn’t your Mark, your treacherous body still responded like it was. You shuddered at the feel of Mark's tongue pushing its way past your lips, an idea popping into your brain when in his conquest to dominate your mouth, it ran over your teeth. You squash the idea of biting Mark’s tongue seconds after it’s hatched, the image of him doing more than breaking your legs like he promised if you tried to run flashing through your mind.

Tears fall from your eyes when Mark finally pulls away, his eyes opening to then quickly filling with concern. You had spent what felt like hours, maybe even days imagining what your first kiss with Mark would be like, and in moments where you were thinking with your dick and not your brain, it would think of what kisses would be like that were filled with more passion and energy. And though your body was already responding to just the one kiss, the rational part of you was still there to remind you that this wasn’t your Mark.

“It’s okay,” Mark whispered, wiping your tears away, and then kissing up the tracks they left. “I have you,” he said, resting his cheek against yours, the words sounding like he wasn’t just saying them to you, but saying them to himself like he hadn’t quite come to the realization. 

“Why are you doing this?” You asked, your eyes slipping shut, thinking that if you closed your eyes to it, it would be easier to ignore, “what happened to the me from your universe?” You forced your eyes open, waiting for Mark to respond. 

Mark’s face goes stormy and full of emotion before he breaks eye contact, “gone,” he says, his eyes flicking back up. He steps closer, his hands moving down to your shoulders, “taken from me before I realized how I felt,” he said before he pulled your body into his chest in a tight embrace, “I won’t let that happen again.”

You have to force yourself to breathe, trying to calm your racing heart. What takes longer is getting your arms to move. A part of you thinks that if you just give in and give this Mark what he wants, then he’ll leave, but another part of you, bigger than you wanted to admit, responded to the fact that this was probably the closest to getting something you always wanted. 

You wrap your arms slowly around Mark, trying to not feel the way your heart broke at the small, wounded noise Mark made. You hated the way you could relate to this Mark, knowing that you could find comfort in each other based on the things you lost and couldn’t have. 

Mark pulls you closer, his head going into the space between your neck and shoulder. His nose went beneath the collar of your shirt as he nuzzled the skin he could find. His hands ran up and down your back as his lips came into contact with your skin, much softer than you expected. 

You shiver at the feel of his lips on your skin, your body seemingly moving on its own to give Mark more room as you let your head fall back onto the wall. You gasp when his lips kiss softly up your neck and along your jaw, your eyes opening once more when you feel the puff of Mark’s breath on your face. 

As Mark’s face slowly inches closer, his eyes flick between yours and your lips. The kiss he pressed to your lips was the complete opposite of the last, but you’re still slow to respond. Once you do, Mark’s hands are on your face to angle the kiss into how he wants it. 

Mark’s tongue swipes along your bottom lip, asking for entrance. It pushes in slowly when you open up seconds later, and this time, you both let out noises of pleasure when his tongue brushes against yours. 

Mark lets you pull away from the kiss, his head falling onto your shoulder as you gasp for air. He runs his hands back down your body, going lower than you expect them to when they grab your lower thighs. 

He hoists you up, your legs going to wrap around his waist as you let out an embarrassing squeak.

“I have you,” Mark says, his voice light, almost teasingly so. And if this Mark had powers that were anything like your Mark’s, he was completely right. No, you’ve never been flying like William had to know if Mark was able to hold you, but you had seen Mark on the news using his powers, so you had no doubt in your mind that he was able to lift you. 

“C’mon!” William had said in the parking lot to the restaurant you had dinner at on your last birthday, “it’s his birthday! You’ve got to take him flying!”

“I don’t want to go flying,” you said to William, “and besides,” you said with a laugh, “I don’t need you asking for me,” you said with another laugh as William pouted. 

“Then can you ask him to take me flying?” William asked, you and Mark looking at each other. 

“Why would Mark take you flying for his birthday?” Eve asked between laughter. 

“Because,” William started, his face going red as he tried to think of a response, and once he did, his eyes lit up, “he told me that for his birthday he wanted Mark to take me flying,” he finished, crossing his arms.

“Did you,” Eve asked, elbowing you softly. 

“Yeah,” Mark chimed in, “did you?” He asked as he rolled his eyes.

You looked between the three of them, Eve smiling at you, Mark looking unimpressed, and William staring at you with both brows raised as he nodded. “Oh yeah! I did forget that I promised William that I would ask.”

Eve nearly doubled over with laughter, his face nearly going as bright as her hair as Mark swooped William up. 

“Where are they going?” Amber asked after she walked up, to-go cup in hand. 

It was like this Mark was able to read your mind to know yours had never taken you flying as he floats you the few feet to your bed. You weren’t sure if it counted, but your arms and legs still tightened around him nonetheless.

You landed softly onto the bed, Mark murmuring a soft I’ve got you before his lips were against yours once again. Your legs loosened around Mark, and even as he let out a noise of protest, your feet came to rest on the bed. 

Your arms loosened just enough to get one of your hands in Mark’s hair, which was just as soft as you imagined your Mark’s would be. You moaned into Mark’s mouth when he rocked his hips down into yours, your fingers tightening around the strands between your fingers. 

Mark pulled away with a growl before he started wrestling his suit off. You had fantasized about this moment more times than you could count after you found out Mark was Invincible. If you were honest, since before then, too. There was just something about skin-tight costumes that got you going. Most of them, of course, being you helping him out of his suit, but now, with how fervently he was going at it, you kept your hands to yourself. 

It was almost funny watching him get the top portion off, but you could blame that on the hysterical feeling of this situation feeling as unreal as it did. 

You had seen Mark shirtless only a few times before, but this was completely different from the shy glances you managed to peek at. 

Mark gave you no choice but to touch his body as he ducked back down into another kiss, your fingers meeting hot skin. There was something dark and powerful underneath Mark’s skin, something that felt so much more different from the other men you’d had in your bed. 

You ran your hands up his body, starting from his abs to his upper chest, Mark letting out a soft groan when your hands brushed his nipples. 

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this,” he growled after he pulled away from the kiss. Ducking back down, he instead went lower to get his mouth against your neck. 

I think I have an idea, you opened your mouth to say, but all that came out was a moan when Mark’s teeth sank into your skin. The sound only spurs Mark on as he moves to another spot to leave a trace. 

“Mark,” you hiss, unable to contain the next noise you let out as Mark’s teeth sink in deep, breaking the skin.

Mark moans around the skin between his teeth, his tongue running over the skin seconds later. As he laps at the skin, Mark rolls his hips into yours, outright humping you. He pulls back from your neck, meeting your eye as he licks his lips. 

You tremble under the dark look he fixes you with, watching as he gets off the bed to get the bottom of his suit down, “take that off,” he commands, “unless you want me to tear it off,” he smirks as he continues on, “I’m fine with either one.”

“Good boy,” he murmurs as you start pulling your clothes off. Once you are fully naked and your clothes are in a pile beside the bed, Mark steps back up to the bed. “Let me look at you,” he says, wrapping a hand around his cock. 

You watch the almost hypnotic motion of Mark slowly stroking his cock, licking your lips when you see a pearly bead of precum fall from the head and down onto your floor. You feel your cock give a twitch of interest as it grows hard between your spread legs. 

You look back up to Mark watching you, and you quickly look away, knowing you’ve been caught. The look on his face didn’t look angry, though, it was smug and full of heat. “You can look,” he says, “it’s all yours.”

Your head snaps up at the declaration, your cock giving another twitch. Your throat suddenly feels dry when you try and swallow, “does that mean I’m yours?” You croak, your gaze falling from Mark. 

Mark lets out a proud laugh, and when you look back up at the sound, you’re met with a faceful of cock. Strong fingers move under your chin to tilt your head up so you meet his eye, “you’ve been mine since I found out you were here, sweetheart,” he says, “now,” he lets go of your face to look around, “where’s your lube?”

You roll over to crawl up the bed, reaching out to grab the handle of your nightstand. Mark chooses the moment you’re balanced on one hand to lay a smack to your ass, catching you off guard. 

You’re proud of yourself for not falling face-first into your comforter, and pause from digging through your drawer to turn and glare at Mark. 

“Sorry,” he says, his arms crossed over his chest, not looking or sounding sorry at all, “couldn’t help it.”

You toss the lube in Mark’s general direction and try your best not to slam the drawer closed. You laid your head down on your pillows, biting your lip as you most certainly weren’t waiting for Mark to spank you again. 

Instead, Mark runs his hands slowly over the globes of your ass, “I mean,” he says as he lifts your hips and gets you onto your knees. “Can you blame me?” He asks as he spreads you open. 

He catches you off guard once more as he dives in, licking a broad over your hole. The shock of it punches a sound of surprise from your open mouth as your cock throbs between your legs. 

Mark lays a few more broad strokes, occasionally licking over your balls and taint on the way to your hole. You groan when he zeros in, licking over your hole until it’s relaxed enough that his tongue can lick inside.

You moan into your pillow as Mark fucks his tongue inside, his tongue coating your walls with his spit. Mark answers with a moan of his own, the vibration going straight to your now hard cock. 

“Taste so fuckin’ good,” Mark says as he pulls back, but not before smacking your ass one last time. He bites into the other untouched cheek, his hands coming to grip your hips in an iron-tight grasp. You whimper into the pillow, having no choice but to let Mark bite you. 

With a kiss pressed to the spot, Mark finally pulls back. You’re left with an aching spot that you were sure was going to look like the one he made earlier on your neck. 

The sound of the lube opening is loud in your ears before it goes quiet once more. Though you were anticipating it, you still jump when the pad of Mark’s lubed fingers runs over your hole. What you always thought would be slow and soft was instead fast and hard, giving you no room to breathe as two of Mark’s fingers sank inside. 

You hissed around the burn deep inside, but of course, Mark gave you no time to focus on that either as his fingers found your prostate. 

“There we go,” he said, and though you couldn’t see his face, you could hear how smug he sounded, “gonna break my fingers, baby,” he said, already adding a third finger. “So fuckin’ tight,” he groans as he pushes his fingers deep. 

Feeling full already, it’s hard to imagine how his cock was going to feel, but when after a few moments Mark pulled his fingers free, you knew you needed what little time you had to mentally prepare.

Vulgarly, Mark smacks the head of his cock against your stretched hole. You gasp when Mark grabs your ass in his hands, his fingers digging into the bruise he left on one of your cheeks. He takes the time to continue teasing you, this time by squeezing your ass cheeks together and fucking his cock between the tight space. 

You turn your head to look back at Mark, “the condom,” you said, whimpering through the pain as Mark squeezed the globes of your ass tighter. 

Mark leaned down to lay his body along your back, “thanks for reminding me to throw those away,” he whispered into your ear, feeling his smile on the shell of your ear, “you won’t be needing those anymore,” he said darkly. 

With that statement, Mark brought his hips up and pressed the head of his slick cock to your hole. In one steady thrust, Mark bottoms out. His hands lock around your hips, keeping your body tightly pressed to his as his moans of pleasure go from his chest and vibrate through your back. 

You turn your head back into the pillow to muffle the sound you made, unknown to your ears whether it was of pleasure or pain. You clench down around the intrusion, the burn of it lighting up your entire body. 

You gasp into the pillow, making it hard to respond to the kiss Mark initiates. You weren’t all too sure about the other half that Mark was, but if the way this Mark kissed you taught you anything, it was that he didn’t need to breathe in the same way did. 

Maybe it will get better over time. The thought made your cock twitch thinking about already going at it again when the round you were in now hadn’t even really begun. 

Mark didn’t seem to mind though as he licked inside your mouth. On his tongue, you tasted the slight remnants of musk, lighting up your tastebuds. Mark pulled back at the same time as his hips did, his head falling onto your shoulder on the thrust back in. 

The only space Mark left between your bodies was just enough for him to fuck in and out of your body, your hole soon becoming accustomed to his cock. There was no question as to if your moans were of pleasure or pain minutes later as Mark’s cock rammed into your prostate on each thrust in. 

There was no time to chase the pleasure as it left when Mark pulled out, because it was there again and again, shooting sparks across your body. It was building to the end that you quickly felt approaching, feeling as if you weren’t going there, but instead, it was forcing its way to you. 

You reached between your legs to wrap your hand around your leaky cock, “that’s it, baby,” Mark said, his lips dragging along your shoulder as he spoke. His pace going too fast to try and match, you stroked your cock to your own messy pace, only taking a few pulls for your body to seize up as you came. 

Your eyes rolled back into your head, the pleasure too intense for your body to seemingly handle before blacking out. You came to on your side, Mark’s body spooned against yours. 

“Relax,” he hissed, and if he was trying to help, his arms tightening around your body sure didn’t assist as he held you in a nearly too-tight embrace. “That’s it,” he murmured as he felt your body relax.   

Mark’s cock still buried inside you, you clenched down around his cock, your own giving a pathetic throb of interest. “How’re you still,” you began to ask, but when Mark’s cock brushed your prostate, you gasped. 

“It takes a little while,” he said, pressing his smile into the back of your neck, “can you feel it?” He asked as he ran his hand across your stomach. 

You shivered as Mark ran his hand over your stomach. You felt full, but not uncomfortably so. 

“Is this what it’s always going to be like?” You asked, grimacing as you felt his cum slip free past Mark’s still-hard cock. 

“Guess we’ll have to find out,” he said as he kissed along the back of your neck, but something told you he already knew the answer. 

[hhoneylemon]

“try to keep up!”

mark grayson x gn!reader

summary: reader helps mark train after he decides that he’s an unsatisfactory hero. you move from mentor to love interest pretty easy.

genre: fluff, wc: 3.8k+ A/N: reader is a superhero, they can fly and have telekinetic powers. this is the longest fic i’ve ever written

“you can fly faster than that.”

mark grunts as he lands in a grassy field of illinois. he rubs at the muscles of his thighs, glaring and grumbling at you.

“i can’t, actually. that was my top speed.”

you raise a brow, a small frown forming on your lips. you rub the bridge of your nose and let out a soft sigh.

“how are you gonna be a superhero when you peak at 75 miles per hour?”

mark’s cheeks flush red under his mask. he raises a hand and points at you, poking at your chest, an annoyed frown pulling at his lips.

“i’m trying.” he says, eyebrows furrowed. “it’s not easy going fast when i’ve only had my powers for a few months.”

you smirk at him, your own feet lifting on the ground. you tilt your head and beckon him to follow you. he hesitates for a moment before lifting off as well, following after you. the two of you graze through the clouds for a moment before you spin midair and turn your body to face him.

“try to keep up!”

you then dart off into the sky. you can almost imagine the face mark makes as he scrambles to keep up, eyes wide as his mouth forms that little pout of his. you almost sigh dreamily as you dip downwards, zooming towards the waters that surround chicago.

the two of you fly around for maybe half an hour. you watch the clouds shift overhead and the sun begin setting, smiling at the peacefulness of it all. you carefully land on the rooftop of a burger mart on the outskirts of the city, brushing a hand through your hair to fix it while waiting patiently for mark.

when he lands, you have to hold back a smile. the light being cast by the sunset illuminates him in all of the best way, catching on all the ridges and curves of his body and face. his hair is windswept and he has to spend a moment to catch his breath. he runs a hand through his hair and grins at you, looking similar to a puppy who’s been offered to play fetch.

“not holding back on me? i thought you were supposed to.”

you shrug in response, a grin hinting at your lips. your eyes flit between him and the sunset behind him, the light almost hurting your eyes.

“no, i’m supposed to be pushing you past your limits. in a good way. do you feel like i did that?”

as if sensing your discomfort just by the way you squint, mark moves until he’s blocking the sun for you. you smile in gratitude, and he’s quick to smile back.

“yeah. i think i hit 80.” his tone is teasing, the grin on his face knowing and sweet. as you begin to say something, you receive a phone call. a small huff, you apologize and check the caller id. you grin at mark and wave him off. “my mom. go home, mark. see you at school.”

mark’s lips purse for a moment. he’s almost childish in the way he wanted to spent more time with you. he wanted to spend more time goofing off with you, training and having friendly banter. he sighs anyways, nodding reluctantly.

“see you, then.”

his feet lift off the ground and he begins the journey home. it’ll only take a few minutes, but it’ll give him time to think. maybe he should drop a request for your next training session? he knows he needs to fly faster, but he’d like to continue training his actual fighting skills. he needs to be hit more, the fact made obvious by how often he’s beaten in a fight. he also needs help making smarter decisions. he’ll bring it up with you soon.

( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

maybe mark has mistaken you. while you train together the next week, he can feel himself growing frustrated. it’s just you dropping heavy objects from a high distance and then making him catch it before it hits the ground. this is just speed training; he needs more. more strength training, more endurance training.

he flies back up beside you after catching a dumpster, arms crossed over his chest. his expression is unamused. you laugh, hand finding his forearm.

“i’m sorry! i promise i’ll never use a dumpster again, it was probably disgusting.”

a smile hints at mark’s lips. he just sighs and shakes his head, rolling his eyes behind his goggles.

“well, yes. but i wanted to talk to you.” he drops his arms, instead clasping his hands in front of him. he looks polite. “i want to change some things with our training.”

you raise an eyebrow in response, watching as he bites the inside of his cheek and fidgets with his thumbs.

“well, it depends on what you’re asking me to change.”

mark nods his head, humming in agreement. he seems eager at the chance to have a say. it’s cute. you smile to yourself as you watch him try to think of how to word his request.

“well, i wanted to work on my ability to take hits. maybe you could throw stuff at me? stuff like trucks, other heavy things.”

you hum in amusement, though he has a point. just two months ago, he’d gotten beaten in a fight because the bad guy threw a car and caught mark off guard. the bad guy had gotten away, and mark came to your house and whined on your bed until you agreed to start helping him become a better hero.

and honestly, who were you to say no? spending some extra time with a friend is always fun. not to mention a friend who’s pretty cute. maybe you only said yes so that you’d get closer to him and and he’d magically fall for you and ask you out. it’s good to train anyways, since mark’s been rather vincible recently.

“we can try. c’mon.”

you drop, angling yourself to fly comfortably towards chicago. you almost laugh to yourself. you could hear his ‘hey!’ as you got the head start, easily beating him back to the city.

you land on the outskirts of the city, taking note of the cars on the street. it was unfair that you were using some random persons car, sure, but maybe cecil would be willing to pay for it if it means that his heroes are getting stronger and more capable of defending the world. 

your eyes lock on a minivan across the street as mark prepares to land. as you concentrate, it lifts off the ground and flies at mark. you can barely see his expression turn to shock as he’s taken down with it.

if you hadn’t known he was invulnerable, you’d have been worried. instead, you laugh and wait for him to get back up. he throws his hands above his head the moment he’s stood and balanced, walking towards you.

“what the heck! you couldn’t have waited ‘til i was ready?” he scoffs, stopping when he’s in front of you. you grin at him, inspecting him to make sure that you didn’t do too much damage. you think you see his body relax and his face soften, but you’re not sure. 

“the villains won’t wait until you’re ready. you should always be ready, anyways.”

mark sighs and rolls his eyes beneath his goggles, though he nods anyways.

“you’re right. just… geez.”

you laugh again, knocking his shoulder with your own as you walk around him. you crack your knuckles surveying the rest of the cars on the street before looking over your shoulder at him. he’s standing, watching you with a small smile on his face. you remember him making that exact expression at a kitten he saved from a tree once. you squint at him. what an odd comparison.

it doesn’t even take an hour before the cars on the street are wrecked and mark stands with a bloody nose and a grin wider than you’ve ever seen before. he practically floats over to you, grabbing your shoulders when he can tell you’re a little dizzy from using your powers for so long.

“look at this, dude! if we do this more often, we’re both training our powers. it’s beneficial to us both.”

you can’t seem to do anything but nod in response, pressing your fingers to your temples to try and soothe the dizziness. a soft groan escapes you. his giddy expression drops immediately, concern etching across his features. his grip on your shoulders tighten.

“i can fly you home, if you want. you look a little out of it.” he waves his hand in front of your face to back up his statement. you playfully roll your eyes, though you nod slowly anyways.

“sounds good.”

mark squats, placing an arm under your knees, the other hooking around your shoulders. once he has you securely in against him, he begins flying you home. he goes slowly, not wanting your head to pound with an intense migraine just because he decided to get you there a little faster.

you lean into him during the flight, his warm body a nice contrast to the cold breeze passing the two of you. you feel his hold on you tighten just a tad.

what you don’t see is the way his lips form a soft smile and the way his ears tinge red just at the prospect of holding you.

when arriving in your neighborhood, mark flies you up to the window of your room, holding you securely as you slide the glass open. he helps you in, hanging by the windowsill as you walk to your bed and flop face-down into the comfort of your mattress.

he smiles fondly at the sight, watching as you weakly roll over to face him moments later.

“hey. you’ll be okay if i leave?”

you almost roll your eyes at him, though his concern has butterflies taking a grand tour through your stomach.

“i’m a little woozy, i’m not bleeding out. i’ll be fine.”

mark’s expression turns into something between a pout and a smile. he then sighs, a little disappointed that he has to leave. he backs away for a moment, eyebrows furrowing.

“okay… call me if you need me. and don’t strain yourself more than you already have.”

you groan, standing from your bed and walking to the window. you lean down to its level and raise your eyebrows at mark, pursing your lips.

“‘kay, promise i will. now go home, pretty sure we have homework in chem.”

mark cringes at the reminder, a whispered curse escaping his lips and entering the breeze that ruffles his hair. he sheepishly smiles, offering a small wave.

“see you at school tomorrow, bye!”

he zooms off before you have a chance to reply. you huff, closing your window and locking it. you decide that he needs to take a chill pill as you head to the bathroom, ready to shower off the grime from the day. 

( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

“save me.”

you groan, grasping william’s arm. mark’s talking about the newest seance dog issue, excitedly pushing past a few kids so he could get to his locker. william smirks at you, laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation.

you know that william knows about your crush on mark. you weren’t sure how; maybe you rambled a little too much about him one day? maybe you looked at him all lovesick while he talked about something nerdy? you don’t know, but that’s not the important part. william kept giving mark these subtle pushes to ask you out. how did they go?

terribly, since mark hasn’t asked you out yet. there’s the terrifying possibility that you’re just a friend, just a mentor. you cringe at the thought.

of course that’s the moment mark finally pays attention to you and william; you, looking like you just heard a metal pipe hit the floor. william, judging him in several different ways.

“mark, remind me the last time you went on a date.”

in response, mark splutters and his eyebrows furrow. he glances at you and then back to his best friend.

“uncalled for, dude.”

william just snickers, turning his attention to you.

“i’ll see you guys. not after school, though, i’m going to a birthday party. have fun.”

he almost smirks at you as he walks off. you want to him him with a hammer.

mark turns to you and laughs, walking with you to chemistry. he starts some new rant about the seance dog issue, and you find yourself heavily judgmental.

sure, mark is a superhero who’s got a big heart and is pretty silly. he’s also a huge dork and almost cringy for a high schooler. a comic fan, specifically for a dog who talks to ghosts. do you really like this guy?

yes, you do, you decide as he gives you the seat closest to the window.

you zone out while the teacher talks, get your work done as fast as possible, and then sit and contemplate. once mark finishes his work, he looks up and grins at you.

“what do you have planned for tonight?”

you blink as you remember you have training with him. you bite your lip as you think.

“i’m not sure, didn’t think too much about it. we can fly around the country and i’ll make you guess which state we’re in.”

his face falls and you have to hold back a smile. a small shake of his head as he groans.

“noo, c’mon. i could try lifting a building.”

“you’re funny.”

he pouts at you before shaking his head again. he toys with his pencil for a moment.

“well, uh… maybe instead of training tonight, we can do something else.”

you raise an eyebrow, leaning slightly towards him. your eyes narrow.

“like what?”

mark’s expression grows nervous as he smiles at you, tapping the eraser of the pencil against his desk.

“like, we could go out. catch a movie, get dinner, go shopping somewhere, maybe we could just walk around or something, or—“

“sure.”

you grin as you watch his eyes light up and his posture straighten a tad. he nods, hands splaying on his desk.

“okay, great. what should we do?”

you almost roll your eyes. he was acting as though you were the coolest thing in the world.

“dinner is fine, mark. we could do one of the ‘fancier’ burger joints in town.”

he grins at your air quotations. it falls into something softer, more like a sheepish smile as he rubs the back of his neck.

“i’d like that.”

the bell rings. you stand, gathering your things. he walks with you out the front doors, stopping once the two of you get to the sidewalks that’ll lead you home.

“i’ll see you later tonight. gotta have suspense.”

you almost roll your eyes. you groan instead.

“god, you’re corny.”

he grins, eyes lighting up. it wasn’t a compliment. 

“of course. see you!”

he walks off. you know he’ll fly once he’s walked far enough. you run a hand down your face before walking the rest of the way home. you’d dress a little nicer later for sure, grab one of your fancier scents. you logically knew you couldn’t mess this up, he already knew you so well. you still worry. what if this is where he decides you aren’t worth his time? you climb up the front steps to your home, groaning and scurrying to your room. you need to plan this perfectly.

( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

whatever your plan was, it works.

the date goes well, yours and mark’s conversations never coming to an awkward pause or having to do the trick of pulling out your phone to find something to talk about.

maybe people think the two of you are crazy when you laugh together over the stupid joke he cracks, or when some story of yours makes him gasp and drop his fork, which clatters against his plate a little too loudly. you almost never want it to end.

after he pays—he said he could never let you, that he’s a gentleman and it would be terribly rude of him if he made you pay—the two of you exit, wandering through the streets of chicago. he even knows the sidewalk rule. he’d throw himself in front of a car for you anyways. good thing you practiced that, huh?

when the two of you round a street corner and begin walking through a more secluded street, mark glances at you with a curious smile.

“wanna go flying?”

you glance at him, raising a brow. he was serious, eyes twinkling under the light from the sunset. you consider for a moment before nodding.

“sure.”

you’d be lying if you said flying wasn’t one of your favorite activities. the wind rustling through your hair and stinging your eyes. the view of below—though sometimes it is scary. the feel of the clouds, the bliss of truly being alone up there. 

now, you don’t mind not being alone if it’s because you’re with mark. he flies off to your side, doing little loops with you and weaving himself through the few clouds that litter the sky. you begin a game of who can dive faster, who can land the cleanest after a dive, who can do the better loops.

you feel giddy. he looks giddy. when the both of you land, it’s outside of his house. you said that it was your turn to drop him off anyways, since it’s always the other way around. he turns and looks at you, his brown eyes warm and soothing. they’re like hershey’s kisses that were glued to his face.

you feel your cheeks heat up as he’s thanking you for tonight. the words fly in through one ear and out of the other. you nod anyways.

now would be a good time to kiss him, you realize. you think he notices how you’re looking at him, because his cheeks heat up as well. he pauses and you snap back to life.

you rush out a goodbye and lift off the ground, flying back home. embarrassing. looking at him like your favorite meal, that was way too fast, especially after a first date. you never want to show your face near him again.

you text the full details to william when you get home. well, minus the flying part. he makes fun of you for how it ended, though he gives good advice. tell mark you had a good night and apologize for being weird and freaking him out. easy.

( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

william’s advice worked. maybe a little too well.

you’ve finished your fourth date, weeks having gone by, mark’s hand clasped in yours. he’s complaining about an assignment he received in calculus when the both of you stop in your tracks, collective groans escaping you.

tether tyrant and magmaniac robbing a bank. you glance at mark. he glances at you. you both shake your heads, stripping from your civilian clothes and into your hero suits.

the two of you make quick work of jumping into a fight with them, mark throwing punches at magmaniac while you throw cars at tether tyrant with your powers. the only problem is that he can throw them back.

after several close calls of almost getting hit, you start getting a little frustrated. he’s just catching the cars and tossing them back at you. you decide against your better judgment and fly at him, tackling him to the ground.

you land a punch to his jaw before he’s grabbing your feet with his tethers and flinging you. you hit a solid wall. your breath is knocked out of you as the faint taste of copper floats through your mouth. you cough, slumping forward a bit. you forget you don’t have certain powers sometimes.

as tether tyrant throws another car, you stop it midair and let it fall to the ground. you grumble and float back up, trying to make a game plan. maybe you can—

mark moves faster than you can think. suddenly tether tyrant’s halfway across the street. you think you hear a crunch of a bone. mark’s quickly at your side, hands cupping your face.

“are you okay?”

his eyebrows are furrowed, entire face screaming with concern. you try not to grin.

“yeah, i’m fine.”

“you sure? i got a little scared when you hit the wall.”

“i’m sure.”

he relaxes a bit, though he still worries. without leaving room for argument, he scoops you into his arms and flies off. you sigh, leaning against him and almost smiling. it was cute how concerned he was over something so small.

you open your window as he holds you outside of your house, helping you climb in once it’s opened. he climbs in behind you, hands gently guiding you to your bed. he puts his hands on his hips once you’re sat.

“where does it hurt?”

you can’t hold back your laughter. his shoulders slightly fall and he frowns.

“i’m just trying to help.”

you rub at your eye, letting out a soft chuckle before looking up at him. his demeanor softens and he shifts between his feet. he needs a verdict.

“sorry. didn’t know my boyfriend was a doctor.”

mark pauses. he throws off his mask as quickly as he can, letting you see just how wide his eyes are. his hands shoot out and grab your shoulders.

“boyfriend?”

“well, we’ve been on multiple dates, we hang out all the time, we talk on the phone a lot. i think—“

he lets go of you and starts floating. he sighs dreamily and spins into an upside down position.

“gosh, i guess we are dating, huh?”

you roll your eyes and beckon him closer. he carefully flies towards you, still hanging upside down. his movements are wobbly. he physically stutters when your hands find his face and pull him into a kiss. his own hands find the sides of your head, angling you just so, letting him relax against your lips.

when you pull away, he plops himself right beside you. a sheepish grin spreads on his face, his knee knocking against yours.

“so. couples, like, kiss and make out and stuff, right?”

his expression is not slick. his grin turns from sheepish to sly, eyes sparkling mischievously. you roll your eyes before laughing, arms wrapping around his neck as you lean in.

“yeah, so?”

“so, i think we should try fitting in. totally.”

your breath fans across his face. he shudders and wraps his arms around your waist, twisting his body to get closer to you. your noses press together.

“sounds good to me.”

he leans in, lips pressing to yours. it’s delicate, like he’s not sure how to handle you yet. he begins leaning back onto the mattress, bringing you with him to half lean on top of him.

needless to say, mark goes home that night with kiss swollen lips and pupils shaped like hearts.

masterlist

[satrs]

A/N; working on alll of ur requests rn sweeties!!! It's gonna take me a good while tho, so here is a lil sum sum I wrote abt the guys sum time ago ^^ Hope u enjoy my late night yapping and plzzzz be patient with meeee, I didn't forget ur requests my lovelys!!!

Random/unpopular headcanons of Weird stuff they do! (MDNI! SFW ans NSFW)

ZAYNE

SFW

Drink his coffee HORENDOUSLY. It looks like a brew straight out of hell. Honestly, it’s closer to motor oil than anything drinkable.

Eats like a pregnant woman with the wildest cravings. I’m convinced he mixes sweets with damn near everything, pickles with ice cream, shit like that.

Uhhh, I also think he’s messy??? Like, his house looks tidy at first glance— floors clean, dishes done, nothing crazy. But if you actually live with him, you realize he doesn’t have time to handle allat!!! There’s always clothes flying around, jackets tossed over chairs, hoodies crumpled on the couch, random socks disappearing into the void. Not necessarily dirty clothes, just... clothes littered across the house. It's like he tries to stay organized, but life moves too fast and the laundry pile moves faster.

NSFW

Tries to optimize things. It's kinda weird but also hot??? "What if we adjust the angle by 12 degrees—oh. Oh, that's better."

One time, he came with one hand on the wall like a man in mourning and didn't say a word, just stood there. (Post-nut trauma pose lmaooo)

Looses track of time when he's with u. You've been at it for 3 hours with barely any break before he realized that he has 2 hours of sleep left before he has to get up for work. But he'll worry about that in the morning.

He's giving you a clinical review when you ride him. "Your pelvic tilt just now was exceptional. Ten out of ten."

SYLUS

Bro im ngl… i feel like he's a hoarder. Antique stuff probs like old pennies from 1500s or sum shi.

Props a history nerd on the low. Knows every event ever happening around the word from the stone age to modern times. (Rants to you about them sometimes)

Caffeine Dependency, But in odddd forms.He refuses to drink normal coffee so, instead, he's obsessed with fancy stuff like matcha lattes, cold brew espresso, or even herbal teas that are supposed to enhance mental focus. If you catch him on a "bad caffeine day," you'll see him get irritated if he had to settle for a drink that doesn't meet his exacting standards (He's gonna pull out the glock ain't he).

NSFW

Discovered his wax kink one time when candle wax happend to drip on him turing sexy time, and he moaned so loud it scared you. That's when you both began to involve wax as a main actor during the act more often.

Oh he's soooo horny when you patch him up after a deal gone wrong. Grows soooo hard when you're shocked self runs up to his all bloodied form:(( Just such big baby and a suckerrr for your nursing skills!!!

Guns are everywhere. Like, casually. Sometimes there's one just sitting on the nightstand, loaded, of course— the barrel practically staring at you while he's fucking you. It's kinda terrifying if you think about it too hard.

Okay, hear me out!!!! When he's really exhausted, like dead-on-his-feet exhausted, he comes home, takes a quick, half-awake shower, then just slumps onto the bed, still wet, still half-dressed, a lit cigar hanging from his lips as you ride him. He's barely doing anything, just lying there with this lazy, heavy-lidded look, letting you use him however you want. Smoke curling up toward the ceiling, his body all warm and loose under your hands. It’s messy, raw, and honestly addicting if you admit.

CALEB

SFW

Constantly challenges himself to do backflips in inappropriate places. "Bet I can flip off this railing" No, Caleb. You can't. But he does it anyway(urghhh). It's even grown to a point that he makes a quick backflip when you two meet up as agreeting mane. It's sooo embarrassing when the bystanders eye him but he thinks it's soooo cold LMAOOO

Caleb still doesn't know how to use a lot of things properly. He'll try to fix things around the house and end up breaking them worse than they were. You'll catch him watching YouTube tutorials, struggling with the basics of cooking, or just trying to figure out how something works.

NSFW

Tries to make you laugh mid-stroke. Literally says stuff like "What would you do if I'd start moonwalking right now?" You're crying laughing while he's still inside you.

He high fives you after sex. Every damn time. Yep. Its canon bc i said so!

Treats you on top as if he's ur personal trainer. "Yeahhh, get those megan-kness working. One, two, three— heyheyhey you gotta put your legs into it!“

XAVIER

SFW

Despite him sleeping so damn much, I feel like hes a light sleeper. If you move away slightly his eyes shoot open bruh. (They also glow in the dark and scare the shit out of you when ypu come back to the room after taking a piss)

Incredible memory for faces, but not names. He can remember every single detail about a person's face—the way they looked when they smiled, the exact way they tilted their head during conversation—but when it comes to their names? Not a clue. He js couldn't give less of a fuck.

Always late for your dates. At least half an hour. Not bc he's been sleeping but because he's so slowww man! You're so mad bc you can't teleport like a certain someone cough cough, but still manage to show up on time!!! And when he shows up he acts so innocent and clueless as if you didn't wait for him for half an hour.

NSFW

Thinks it's soooo sexy when you scold him. Say his full name with force and he's rock solidddd 'm tellin youuuu!!!

Always insists on so much foreplay it's frustrating. Don't get me wrong it's sexy! ....until it's been 45 minutes and you’re still begging for him to finally put it in.

Has a thing for u playing with his hair, especially if you pull it when he's eatin you out. But even if you just genuinely move it out of his face after a heated make-out shesh, he whines as if you got his dick in a headlock (you do).

RAFAYEL

Props has a journal and draws little doodles of you next to his entry of the day!! When he's feeling espacially romantic, he'll begin with a small doodle but get lost in it end end up drawing the most breathtaking portrait of you. He hides the journal too, a bit too embarrassed to show you his rambles of how much in love he is with you. Yeahhh for his eyes only!

Rafayel is full of bizarre superstitions. He's the type to refuse to walk under a ladder, always carries a lucky charm, and insists that everything happens for a reason. If you spill salt, you're definitely going to have to throw it over your left shoulder. Was a literal sea god but bad luck are the most of his worries ig...

His desk is a mess, but somehow everything is in its right place. Papers are scattered everywhere, but you can not touch them. He has his own chaotic filing system, and God help you if you try to reorganize anything.

NSFW

Sucker for you when ur in heels. I dare you to step on his foot by accident in heels!!(he almost came in his pants). Loves to fuck you in heels from that point onwards.

Ok so this is ridiculous but I have this headcanon that you both made out in the ocean once and got so into it that you didn't notice rafayel turned into a merman until his fishtail grazed your legs and you fucking screamed for your life. He had to make it up with some sloppy toppy head underwater ofc!!!

Will literally stop mid stroke to get his sketchbook and sketch you when he has the urge to capture your beautiful form splawed out for him. Like, this is for him, like.... oh my godddd yu're so perfect???

[thehatboxwitch]

fem!reader, TW // yandere, nsfw, drugging, dubcon, overstimulation

There's a dull, throbbing heat between your legs, in your stomach.

You stir, trying to find your tongue, when fingers encircle your arms.

"Good morning." Breath tickles your ear, before teeth catch onto your earlobe, nibbling gently.

Your eyes fly open, body lurching forward before you even know what's going on.

Phainon catches you easily with a hand, easing you back onto his lap, nestling his cock back deep inside you. You whimper when his hand comes up to clasp your throat gently - not enough to be uncomfortable, but enough for you to know a threat when you see it.

"Ph-phai," you stammer out. Your jaw feels so heavy, so sluggish... "L-let me... go..."

And the ache between your legs, a persistent burning so deep within you. Phainon adjusts you on his lap, and his dick, still hard even thought it must have been hours since the night had begun, nudges up against something raw within you that your head tips back onto his shoulder with a silent cry.

Light winks off the cut edges of a bottle of sleeping draught on the bedside table. You catch his gaze in the mirror, horror written all over your expression.

He sighs. "Looks like you caught me." When he tugs on your hair to expose the side of your neck to him, you have no energy to protest save for making a sound of displeasure. Phainon takes his time, sucking fresh bruises down from your jaw to collarbone, admiring them bloom with a look so full of love it almost makes you sick.

You're trembling, and Phainon can feel it. "What's the matter?" he asks, with another sigh, patient and weary. "You were so eager last night to get with... hmm... a hero of Amphoreus."

"I-I wasn't... " You didn't remember anything about last night. Would you have let anyone drag you so far into depravity, like he clearly had? It was so hard to tell... let alone think, with the draught clouding your head.

His eyes glow blue in the low light, clicking his tongue. "Weren't you? I'd hate for people to start saying that you were... taken advantage of."

He jostles his leg as gently as he can. You moan, feeling his sheer size bumping against all the most sensitive parts within you.

"Too much," you gasp out, nails sinking into his arm. There's too much of him everywhere; well-muscled arms keeping you flush against him, warm breath and loving bites and kisses over your neck and shoulders, cock still twitching each time your walls spasm around him. Phainon was big, yes, in so many more ways than one.

He nuzzles a kiss into the nape of your neck. "So pretty. You can give me one more, yes?"

You begin to shake your head no, until Phainon rolls his hips up into you and you're melting already, dissolving into nothing but sensitive nerves and sweet moans. He's murmuring praises into your ear, thrusting so deep and slow into you, relishing the way your ribbed walls flutter and squeeze around him.

"Taking me so well, sweetheart." The grinding turns into thrusts, wet, obscene squelches, and a hand finds your clit. "Shh, shh, stay right here. Be good."

Your back arches, hips pressing away or into his touch, you can hardly tell. "Phai, Phainon, big, too big-"

His laugh ruffles your hair. "Yeah? It's good, isn't it?"

"N-" Pleasure sparks and your protests fall away again, writhing in his hold. "Oh, please, faster, Phai-!"

Phainon obeys. He hardly needs to pay attention to where you're most sensitive, so deep within you feel like he might reach up to your chest, and the pads of his fingers, rough from years of battle, draw ecstasy-inducing circles over your clit until tears prick at your eyes.

"Coming, Phai, I'm-" The orgasm had lost its edge at that point, but Phainon still has you arching taut, wrenching a strangled cry from you.

In the mirror, you watch him clean off his fingers, slow and deliberate, letting you see all the slick he'd gathered up.

"So good," he purrs. "You'll understand why I want to keep you, hm?"

[soulofapatrick]

Don’t Tempt Me - Xaden Riorson x female reader

Summary: Xaden finds you burnt out on the training field 

Warnings: none 

Words: 6k (somehow)

Notes: Not my fave and not proofread

Y/N's POV

The sun hangs low over Basgiath, bleeding gold and deep crimson across the sky, its light casting jagged shadows over the towering battlements. The war college looms around me, its stone walls unyielding, its presence as foreboding as ever. The air is thick with the lingering scent of sweat and scorched leather, remnants of a day spent in brutal training.

The air is thick with the scent of fresh earth and damp stone as I sprint across the training yard, my feet pounding the ground with a rhythm that feels like a heartbeat—a constant reminder of my inadequacies. Sweat drips down my forehead, stinging my eyes, but I refuse to wipe it away. I don’t have time to care about that. I only have time to run.

Over and over, I push myself to the brink, my body screaming in protest, muscles tight with fatigue. My breaths are ragged, desperate for air that feels like it's slowly being stolen from me. But the pain doesn’t matter. It’s nothing compared to the quiet voice inside my head, the one that whispers my doubts and my fears, the one that tells me I’m not enough.

You can’t keep doing this.

It’s Virethalon’s voice. Low, firm, and impossibly calm, like he always is when he sees me teetering on the edge. His presence pulses in my mind, filling the quiet spaces with a calm I can’t find within myself.

Stop, he says again, the warning clear. You’ll burn out before you ever get the chance to fly.

But I ignore him. I have to. I can’t stop, not when the weight of everyone’s expectations hangs so heavily on my shoulders. I can’t afford to be weak. I can’t afford to be what everyone expects—a failure.

My legs scream, my body trembling with every step, but I push harder. Faster. A flip, a backflip, then a roll, twisting midair in an effort to improve my reaction time, my agility. I force my limbs to obey, despite how they beg for rest, despite how my mind is breaking under the strain.

I am not enough. I’m not strong enough to make it here.

Each fall, each misstep echoes the same message in my mind: You don’t belong.

The words are a sting in my chest, sharp and bitter, poisoning the air in front of me. The instructors don’t believe in me, not truly. They’re waiting for me to break, to fail in front of everyone. The other cadets—they’re watching too, eager to see how long I’ll last.

Stop.

Virethalon’s voice is more insistent now, rising with frustration. I know he’s watching, can feel his eyes on me, even though he’s nowhere near. You don’t need to prove anything.

I don’t stop. I can’t. If I stop now, the quiet, haunting voice of failure will take over. If I stop, I’ll feel it—the shame of not being able to meet the impossible standard everyone else expects from me.

The ground shifts beneath me as I sprint forward, my foot catching on something, my body twisting unnaturally in the air. For a split second, time seems to stretch—slow, agonising. And then, I crash.

The world flips. My body slams into the earth, my hands and knees taking the brunt of it. The impact rattles my bones, sharp and unforgiving. My breath is knocked out of me, and for a moment, I just lay there, feeling the tremor of my body as it tries to recover from the shock.

I’m not moving. I can’t move.

Gentle hands find my shoulders before I can even process what’s happening. The pressure is firm yet careful, guiding me, coaxing me into a sitting position. My body trembles from exhaustion, every muscle protesting the movement, every joint aching with the weight of my own failure. I try to steady myself, but the effort makes the world spin, and I can’t seem to get my bearings.

The cold stone beneath me is a cruel reminder of how far I’ve pushed myself. My hands shake, fingers stiff from too much strain, and I finally drop my head, trying to hide the rush of heat that floods my face.

And then, I feel him.

His presence looms over me like a shadow, suffocating and unavoidable. My heart skips a beat, and I immediately wish I could melt into the ground, anything to escape the situation. But it’s too late.

I glance up—my breath catches as I come face to face with him. Xaden Riorson. He stands before me, looking like a damn god, his tall, muscular frame casting a shadow over me. The way his wide shoulders fill out his leather jacket should be illegal. He’s built like someone who’s spent years training and fighting, his chest massive, arms heavily muscled. His dark hair is windblown and tousled, the kind of messy that only makes him look more dangerous. His tawny-brown skin is kissed by the sun, and the dark stubble along his jawline only adds to the rough, untamed look. His eyes—gold-flecked onyx—are locked on mine with an intensity that makes me feel like I’m about to be set ablaze, and I would rather do anything else than face him like this.

I rub my face with both hands, hoping to hide the blush that’s rising to my cheeks. Of all the ways for this to end—of course, it’s Xaden Riorson who catches me. And of course, he looks like that.

“What the hell are you doing?” he growls, his voice a deep rumble of anger that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “You’re an idiot.”

I blink, half-frozen, half in disbelief. The audacity. “Oh, wow. Thank you, Wing Leader,” I drawl, sarcasm practically dripping from my tongue. “You really know how to make a girl feel special.”

Xaden’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t bite back—at least, not yet. Instead, his eyes flicker over me, and I know he’s assessing the damage. My exhaustion. The way I’m trembling, barely able to hold myself upright. It’s the worst feeling in the world. I’m embarrassed as hell that he’s seeing me like this—weak, on the edge of crumbling.

“I told you to stop before you reached this point,” he mutters, shaking his head. There’s an edge of frustration in his tone now, and I can’t decide if I want to hit something or laugh at how he sounds like he’s scolding a child.

“Yeah, well, you know me,” I say, wiping a bead of sweat off my brow, trying to make myself sound more in control than I feel. “Can’t resist proving everyone wrong.” I let out a bitter laugh, the kind that doesn’t reach my eyes. “But, hey, thanks for showing up and saving the day. Just what every soldier needs: an overbearing Wing Leader.”

A flash of something—maybe amusement, maybe exasperation—crosses his face, but it’s gone too quickly for me to read it properly. His dark brows furrow, and he steps closer, invading my space. “You’re burning yourself out. You can’t keep going like this.”

I force myself to sit up straighter, determined not to appear as weak as I feel, but I can’t hide the tremor in my limbs. The ache in my muscles is almost unbearable now, and Virethalon’s voice echoes through my mind—Stop, or you’ll destroy yourself. But I ignore it, as I have for hours.

I grit my teeth. “I don’t need your help, okay? I don’t need anyone’s help.”

I try to push myself to my feet, but my body betrays me, buckling underneath me like a broken chair. I stumble, gasping for breath, my hand reaching out for support but finding nothing.

Xaden’s eyes flash with anger again, but his movements are faster than I can process. He’s at my side in a heartbeat, and before I can even protest, he lifts me up, cradling me against him in one smooth, powerful motion. His arms are like iron around me, and my body, still trembling with exhaustion, goes stiff against him.

“What the hell are you doing?” I gasp, still trying to regain some semblance of control. I push against his chest—unsuccessfully—my arms too weak to do anything more than flop uselessly at my sides. “Put me down, you asshole!”

Xaden doesn’t respond immediately. He doesn’t have to. His grip tightens, holding me effortlessly against him as he carries me toward the barracks. “I told you to stop, but you never listen. So now you’re paying the price.” His tone is laced with annoyance, but there’s something else beneath it—something that makes my heart twist. Maybe it’s concern, maybe it’s guilt, but I can’t focus on that. I’m too busy trying to avoid the heat that floods my face.

“You’re such a prick,” I mutter, my voice half muffled by his chest. I’m so fucking embarrassed, and I hate that I feel this way. His warmth, his scent, is all-consuming, and my skin burns at the contact. But I refuse to admit it. “I don’t need you to carry me like some helpless baby.”

“Funny,” he says, his voice low, “because you sure look like one right now.”

I can practically hear the smirk in his voice, and I want to punch him. I should punch him. But I don’t have the energy, so I settle for biting my lip, muttering curses under my breath as he carries me.

The weight of his presence presses against me, and I can feel his muscles shifting beneath me, each movement of his body reminding me of just how powerful he is. And for all my protests, for all my sarcasm, I don’t want to admit that I’m secretly grateful. Grateful that he’s here. Grateful that he doesn’t let me fall apart.

Even if it means I have to endure his endless teasing.

Xaden’s warm eyes flicker down at me, and this time, there’s something softer there. Almost like...he understands. But I’m too stubborn to let myself believe it.

Xaden doesn’t say a word as he carries me through the barracks, the warmth of his body pressing against mine as I try to ignore the heat rising in my cheeks. I’m too tired to fight it. His presence is too overwhelming, and I can feel his heartbeat steady against me. Every step he takes is calculated, strong, as though it’s second nature for him to carry someone in his arms like this. It’s as if he’s done it a hundred times—though I have to wonder just how many times I’ve crossed his mind before today.

Xaden moves with a quiet grace, his large frame effortlessly navigating the corridors of the dorm building as though he’s done this a thousand times before. He steps softly, almost soundlessly, his footsteps absorbed by the shadows that seem to cling to him like a second skin. My heart races, but it's not from exertion anymore—it's the way he's so effortlessly commanding in everything he does. The weight of his arms around me, the heat radiating from his body, and the way my mind seems to short-circuit whenever I’m near him make it hard to think straight.

We pass the first-year rooms—mine included—and I can’t help but cringe at the thought of being caught sneaking past curfew. But Xaden moves with such precision, such mastery of his surroundings, that the idea of us being caught seems laughable. No one can hear us, no one even notices us. It’s like we’re ghosts, gliding past the rooms, unseen by anyone else.

I briefly wonder how he does it—how he’s so adept at slipping through the shadows, unnoticed, silent. But then, he’s always been a mystery to me. The kind of mystery I’ve never quite been able to figure out. And maybe, in a way, I don't want to.

Finally, we reach the staircase that leads to the upper floors, and with a swift glance in either direction, Xaden steps into the shadows, carrying me effortlessly up the stairs. We move past the landing and down the hallway to the last door—the one I know leads to his room. He doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t pause, and with a final quiet push of the door, we’re inside.

Xaden doesn’t put me down right away. His arms remain around me, his hold firm, as if he’s unwilling to let go. As if, for a brief moment, he’s afraid to lose the connection. The closeness between us feels suffocating, overwhelming, and yet I can’t bring myself to pull away. Every inch of my body is acutely aware of his presence, the heat of his skin seeping into mine, the muscle and strength in his arms keeping me held too close. I can feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat against me, mirroring the frantic pulse racing through my veins.

His dark eyes meet mine, and I swear, for a second, everything else falls away. His gaze is fierce, like a storm trapped behind his irises, flickering with a raw intensity that sends a wave of heat rushing through me. I’m suddenly aware of how painfully close we are—so close that if I moved even an inch, I’d be pressed against him completely. My breath catches, and I can’t look away, trapped in the gravity of his stare, like he’s pulling me toward him without even trying. And then, as if trying to fight whatever is building between us, his eyes flicker to my lips, and I feel it—the pull—stronger than anything I’ve ever felt.

But just as quickly as the moment seems to rise, he jerks his gaze away, his jaw tightening with the effort to control himself. It’s like he’s trying to push back the part of him that’s aware—aware of the magnetic pull between us, aware of how much he’s been fighting this… whatever this is. He shakes his head slightly, as though dismissing the thought entirely, like he’s trying to shut down the desire that flares in him. But I see it in his eyes—the flicker of something primal. Something I can’t ignore.

Finally, he sets me down, but he doesn’t let go immediately. He’s still so close that I can feel his breath on my skin, a whisper of warmth against the cold, the tension stretching taut between us, like a string pulled too tight. My pulse races as I settle onto the bed, the soft covers pressing against me, but my chest feels like it’s about to burst. I try to catch my breath, but it’s like the air in the room has thickened, heavy with unsaid words and the suffocating weight of everything unsaid.

Xaden doesn’t back away. He hovers, towering over me, his presence suffusing the space around us. I can feel the heat radiating off him, his body just a breath away, and every inch of me is screaming to close the distance. But I don’t move. I’m not sure I can. His nearness makes every part of me ache, makes every nerve light up, thrumming with the raw electricity that crackles between us.

His voice cuts through the thick silence, deep and steady, but there’s something almost... softer now, something gentler that makes my heart stutter. “Stay here,” he commands, his words pressing down on me like a physical weight, making my chest tighten. The force of his tone is undeniable, but there’s an undercurrent of something else—something that makes my stomach flutter. Something dangerous and thrilling all at once. "Be a good girl. Don’t go anywhere.”

I feel those words in my bones, in the very marrow of my being. The way he says it—it’s like a promise, a command that makes my heart race faster than it should. And yet, there’s a tenderness beneath it, a strange gentleness that pulls at me, twists my insides into knots. He wants to keep me here, close. He wants to possess this moment with me, even though I can feel the struggle in him—his body yearning to cross the line, but his mind pulling him back, trying to control what’s growing between us.

His gaze holds mine, unwavering, and I swear I see something break in his eyes—something raw and unspoken. It’s as if he’s holding himself back from doing something he knows would be too much, too dangerous. But the look in his eyes tells me everything I need to know: the battle is far from over, and this tension—this charge—it’s only just beginning.

I try to swallow, but my throat is dry. Every muscle in my body is taut, every nerve alive with an electric hum. Xaden disappears into the adjoining ensuite, his heavy footsteps echoing softly across the stone floor. I can hear the gentle hiss of the water filling the tub, the steady flow of it working in rhythm with the hammering of my heart. The tension between us lingers, the silence more suffocating now than ever before, and I can’t shake the feeling of his gaze still lingering on me even as he disappears from the room.

I should feel grateful for the space—should breathe, slow my pulse—but all I can think of is him. The way he’s so effortlessly commanding, yet there’s this softness beneath it that I can't quite place. The way he had looked at me, his expression a battle between restraint and something far more intense.

My fingers twitch, almost compulsively, and I reach for my boots, needing to do something. My body is still shaking from the exertion, from the near-collapse, and now my brain feels fuzzy, the exhaustion creeping in faster than I expected. I should just wait, I know I should, but I feel... out of control. I need to regain some semblance of normalcy, something to anchor me.

I struggle to bend down, but my balance is still far off from the punishment I just put my body through. My vision swims a little, and before I can register what’s happening, my body tips forward, sending me sprawling from the edge of the bed with a yelp. The floor greets me hard, and a shock of pain shoots up my spine, but it's nothing compared to the embarrassment that floods through me in waves. My pulse spikes, and I scramble, feeling utterly ridiculous.

A sharp, almost instinctive growl of frustration rises in the air—Xaden. He’s already moving quickly, a blur of motion as he rushes back into the room, his broad form filling the doorway in an instant. His dark eyes sweep over me, a flicker of concern passing through them, but it’s quickly replaced with something harder—almost irritated.

"You really are a disaster, aren't you?" His voice is deep, but there's a teasing bite to it, even as he crosses the room toward me in strides that eat up the distance. I can’t even find it in me to be offended. I’m too busy feeling like a complete fool.

Before I can open my mouth to respond, he’s crouching in front of me, his hands reaching for my arms to steady me. The sheer strength in his touch almost knocks the wind out of me as he helps me back onto my feet, the warmth of his hands traveling through my skin and straight to my chest. He doesn’t say anything else, but the way his eyes linger on me for a moment, as though making sure I’m okay, sends something fluttering nervously in my stomach.

“Try not to break anything else, would you?” His voice is softer now, as though the weight of the moment has finally broken through that icy exterior of his. His lips curve into a smirk, but there’s no denying the genuine care beneath the sarcasm.

Xaden moves with quiet precision, his hands wrapping around my waist, gentle but firm, as he guides me toward the bed. The heat from his touch lingers on my skin, and despite everything, I can't help but shiver. His grip is unyielding, his presence surrounding me, and as I sit on the edge of the bed, he stands in front of me, towering over me. The dim light from the room casts shadows across his features, making him look even more intimidating than usual, but there’s something in his eyes that betrays the mask he’s trying so hard to maintain.

His hands rest on my knees for a moment, and his gaze flickers to mine. There’s a question there, unspoken, something almost vulnerable beneath that stoic expression. I can see the battle waging in his eyes. He doesn’t want to touch me—at least, that’s what his expression says. But his eyes… those eyes of molten gold flecked with onyx… they betray him, flashing with an intensity I can’t quite read.

And then, in a moment that feels both like an eternity and a breath, Xaden sinks to his knees in front of me. The movement is fluid, almost too graceful, and my heart skips a beat. It feels wrong to be this close, too intimate. His presence is overwhelming, and I can feel the tension in the room thickening with every inch of space he closes between us.

Xaden kneels before me, his hands gentle but firm as he removes my boots. His touch is careful, almost reverent, but the tension is unmistakable. Each movement is deliberate, like he's holding himself back from something. The weight of his gaze on me is intense—smouldering, even—and I can feel every inch of him watching, noticing, memorising.

As he pulls off the second boot, his fingers brush against my calf, sending a jolt through me. My breath catches, and I instinctively tense, but it's more from the electric charge between us than the discomfort of my body. I don’t know why it affects me like this—this man who’s never once been shy about hiding the way he feels or thinking that his touch doesn’t matter—but in this moment, it matters. It matters more than it should.

He looks up then, his gaze locking onto mine. The heat in his eyes is unmistakable, a dark storm brewing just beneath the surface. His brow furrows slightly, and for a split second, I wonder if he’s questioning something—me, himself, what we’re both doing here, like this. But then his eyes flick lower, and I can see the hesitation there, a silent question that hangs in the air between us.

His fingers hover at the waistband of my tracksuit bottoms, brushing lightly against my hips. The touch is almost too soft, as if he’s trying to gauge my reaction before crossing a line that’s already dangerously blurred. He doesn’t say a word—he doesn’t have to. The question is in his eyes, in the way his lips part ever so slightly, in the subtle tension in his jaw. It’s an unspoken request, one that I know all too well.

I can feel the pulse of uncertainty in my veins, but something about this—about him—makes me lower my defences, just a little. Without even thinking, I raise my hips slightly, just enough to give him the signal. My movement is small, almost imperceptible, but it's enough. His breath hitches, and I can see the way his eyes flicker, a momentary loss of control before he tightens his grip on his composure.

Xaden exhales sharply, like he’s been holding his breath all this time, and I can see it in his expression—the struggle between what he wants and what he’s trying so hard to resist. His fingers slide beneath the waistband of my tracksuit bottoms, and I feel the slightest tremor in his touch. He’s slow, deliberate, like he’s savouring the moment, but also like he’s afraid that if he moves too quickly, the entire thing might shatter.

The air between us crackles with an electric tension, and as he helps me out of the fabric, I’m left feeling exposed in a way that’s more than physical. My heartbeat is louder than anything else, pounding in my ears, and for a moment, I forget about the aches in my body, the bruises, the exhaustion. It’s as though the world has narrowed to just us. Just this. And I can’t seem to pull away from him, from the way he makes me feel, from the way his hands linger a little too long at the edge of my clothing, as if to remind me that he sees me—every part of me.

I know it’s not supposed to feel this way, not like this. But every glance, every touch, every quiet, unspoken word between us is enough to unravel the careful walls I’ve built. And yet, even as he pulls the tracksuit bottoms off, his hands gentle but insistent, there’s something else in his eyes—something that tells me he’s fighting every urge to touch me, to kiss me. But he doesn’t. He never does.

I can’t decide whether that makes it harder or easier.

And when he finishes, leaving me in nothing but my sports bra and panties, I feel more vulnerable than I’ve ever been—completely at his mercy, exposed in more ways than one. The air is thick with unspoken words, and even as I sit there, trying to catch my breath, I know this isn’t over.

Xaden lets out a frustrated sound, a low, throaty growl that resonates deep in his chest. His breath stutters as his forehead falls gently to my thigh, the weight of it anchoring me in place. The intensity of the moment is suffocating, like the world around us has slowed to a stop, leaving only the two of us, tangled in something we can’t deny. His hands are gripping the edge of the bed, his knuckles white, and I can feel the tension in his body, a tight coil of restraint and hunger.

And then, in one swift, desperate motion, he surges upward, his lips crashing against mine. There’s no warning, no hesitation. Just pure, raw need. His mouth takes mine with a fierce intensity that leaves me breathless, as though he’s been holding back for far too long and now there’s no more control. It’s like he’s been starved for this—starved for me—and he doesn’t want to let me go, not even for a second.

I kiss him back with everything I have, my hands finding the sides of his face, pulling him closer, as if I can’t get enough. Every part of me feels alive with the heat between us, my skin tingling where his fingers brush against it, my heart thudding erratically in my chest. He tastes like fire—burning hot, consuming—and I can’t help but fall into him, into the kiss, into the feeling of him. I can feel the weight of his body pressing against mine, the strength of him, but it’s not overbearing. It’s grounding, like he’s pulling me into his orbit.

His hands move quickly, urgently, as if he’s afraid the moment will slip away from him. Before I can fully comprehend what’s happening, he’s lifting me effortlessly from the bed, and suddenly I’m straddling his thighs. His hands settle on my hips, holding me in place, the heat of his body radiating into mine. I can feel the way his pulse races beneath his skin, the way his chest rises and falls against mine. The kiss deepens, growing even more frantic, and I don’t know whether it’s the intensity of it or the way he’s holding me that makes everything else feel so insignificant.

He pulls me closer, his hands guiding me with a possessive, yet gentle touch, and I can feel the thrum of energy between us, something electric, something undeniable. My fingers tangle in his hair, tugging him closer, and the sound of his breathing, his heavy exhales, fills the space between us. I can hear the way he’s fighting for control, the way his muscles tighten with the effort of keeping his composure.

But I don’t want him to. I don’t want him to hold back.

I don’t want him to fight it anymore.

I can feel the heat of his body through the thin fabric of my sports bra, his chest pressing against mine with each movement, and I’m acutely aware of how close we are, how easy it would be to lose ourselves completely in this. And yet, even as we continue kissing, tangled in each other’s embrace, there’s a part of me that’s still unsure, still trying to catch up with everything happening around me. But when his hands slide down to my thighs, gripping them with such possessiveness, that uncertainty melts away, replaced by a heady rush of desire.

The kiss breaks, but just for a moment, both of us gasping for air. His lips hover above mine, and I can see the raw intensity in his eyes, a mixture of frustration and something else—something far more tender, even if it’s buried beneath the layers of urgency.

"Don't stop," he mutters, his voice rough and low. His hands tighten around me, pulling me against him, as if he’s trying to make sure I’m real. “Please don’t stop.”

And all I can do is nod, my chest still rising and falling with the rapid pace of my heart. I don't want to stop either.

The air between us feels thick with heat, charged with a tension that I don't want to break, even as the reality of what we’re doing begins to settle in. Xaden’s hands are still firm on my hips, his grip tightening with every shift of my body, and I can feel every muscle in his form, every bit of control he's holding onto, fighting to stay composed. He pulls me closer again, the fabric of my sports bra barely separating us, his chest brushing against mine as he presses his forehead to mine, both of us gasping for breath.

The heat from his skin, the closeness of his body, is too much to ignore. It's overwhelming in the best way. I can hear my own pulse hammering in my ears, feel the electricity between us that neither of us can escape. He looks at me, his gold-flecked eyes searching mine, his breath ragged as if he's barely holding on to the edge of whatever control he has left.

I can't stop myself from raising my hand to touch his face, my fingers trailing down the line of his jaw, tracing the hard curve of his chin, feeling the roughness of his stubble. The tenderness in my touch makes him shiver, his breath catching in his throat, and for a brief second, everything else fades. There’s no training, no curfew, no expectations—just the two of us, caught in something far more complex than either of us ever intended.

His lips brush against mine once more, a soft, tentative kiss, but it feels more intimate than the previous fiery moments. It's full of the unspoken things, the feelings we've been hiding, buried beneath layers of duty and unacknowledged desire. Xaden pulls back slowly, just enough to look at me, his eyes heavy with something unreadable.

"I—" he starts, his voice thick with emotion, but I stop him, my fingers pressing gently to his lips.

“I know," I whisper. "I know, Xaden. We don’t need to say it.”

The words hang in the air between us, unspoken yet understood. He looks at me, really looks at me, and for once, there’s no pretension, no walls between us. Just a moment of raw honesty.

But then, he pulls back just a fraction, his hands slowly loosening their grip on me, as if reluctant to let go but knowing he has to. His eyes soften, a flicker of something tender passing over his features before he runs a hand through his windblown hair, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

“You should rest,” he murmurs, though there’s a trace of something unreadable in his voice. “You’ve pushed yourself too hard tonight.”

I nod, feeling the weight of his words as the adrenaline from our moment starts to ebb away, leaving me with a sense of vulnerability, of exhaustion I hadn’t realised had been creeping up on me. My body is still sore from the training, but now, there’s an ache of a different kind, a deep, resonating need I’m not sure how to deal with.

“You’re right,” I murmur, my voice hoarse. “About that bath…”

Xaden’s hands gently guide me to my feet, his fingers lingering on my hips just a moment longer than necessary, as if making sure I’m steady before he lets go. His touch is firm but considerate, grounding me, reminding me that he’s here, present, in this moment. I almost wish he didn’t have to pull away so soon, but the space between us feels impossible to close for reasons I can’t quite name.

With a soft grunt, Xaden rises to his full height, towering over me for a moment before he reaches down and picks me up again, effortlessly moving me toward the bed. His strong arms encircle my waist, and I feel the heat radiating from his chest, the power in his body that he keeps so carefully controlled. He sets me down gently on the edge of the mattress, the softness of the sheets a stark contrast to the tension that still crackles in the air between us.

I sit there for a moment, watching him, as he turns toward the bathroom, his broad back stretching as he moves, his muscular frame rippling with every step. His windblown black hair falls just above his collar, and I can't help but stare at the way he walks—confident, purposeful, but there’s an undercurrent of something, a quiet storm inside him that’s barely contained.

The silence feels heavy, too heavy, until I finally speak up, the words tumbling out before I can stop them.

“... Maybe you could join me?”

The moment they leave my mouth, time seems to slow. Xaden freezes in his tracks, his hand hovering over the doorframe, his back to me. For a breathless second, I wonder if he didn’t hear me, if the words just got lost in the space between us. But then, the tension in his body is palpable. His shoulders tighten, his jaw clenches, and I watch as a low, almost imperceptible sound slips from his throat—a frustrated, breathy exhale that he seems to be holding back with all his strength.

He doesn’t turn around right away, but when he does, his eyes meet mine, and there's a flicker of something dangerous there. It’s not anger. It’s hunger—raw, palpable, and so intense that it sends a shiver down my spine. I can't look away, can't tear my gaze from his. The silence between us stretches, thickening, until I can almost feel the heat coming off of him.

"You really want that?" His voice is low, a little strained, like he's trying to rein himself in. There's a slight tremor in his hands, and his posture is tense, like a coil ready to snap. He’s trying to keep himself in check, and I know he’s holding back everything he wants to say, everything he wants to do. But there's something in his eyes, a flicker of vulnerability, of yearning, that betrays the composure he’s trying so hard to maintain.

I nod slowly, heart pounding in my chest as I search his face, looking for any sign of hesitation, any clue that I’ve crossed a line. But there’s none. Instead, he takes a step toward me, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he’s waiting for me to stop him, to give him some sort of excuse to turn back. But I don’t.

I don’t know what happens next, only that the space between us feels like it’s been stretched so thin that it could snap at any moment. Xaden is so close now, his presence overwhelming, and I can’t breathe, not properly. All I can do is stare at him, feel the pull, the need between us, and wonder if he can feel it too.

“Don’t tempt me,” he mutters under his breath, before stepping into the bathroom, leaving me to wonder if he’ll give in, if he’ll actually let this tension between us break.

Part Two ⇒ Giving Into Temptation

Fourth Wing Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 12th Oct 2024

@xadenswhore @fanficscuziranout @daisydark @Mariahoedt @marrass @

[specshroom]

A Mischievous Fairy

˚˖′.⊹ ࣪ ˖˚·˖*.⊹ ࣪ ˖˚·˖′.⊹ ࣪ ˖˚·˖*.⊹ ࣪ ˖˚·˚˖′.⊹ ࣪ ˖˚·˖*.⊹

When a humble farmer decided to live on the outskirts of town right next to the forest he did not expect to make friends with a small temperamental creature from the forest.

It was a pretty good deal you had going on, you help his plants grow with fairy magic and he gives you a safe warm place to sleep and home cooked meals. Most days are spent with you doing your best to annoy the poor farmer as he tries to remind himself that you're the reason his produce sells for such high prices.

You fly around his head making little jingle noises and he tries to ignore you and go on with his work. You steal little things like spoons, screwdrivers, pencils and put them in places he can't reach like on top of the cabinets and shelves. When you get mad at him you grow weeds in his crops until he apologizes or gives you a gift to your liking. Despite this the farmer has grown to truly enjoy your company...for the most part.

His loneliness is getting to him and he's tried to have company over but it's kind of hard to explain to guests why there's a little, scantily clad fairy staring daggers at them the whole time. It definitely ruins the mood as he tries to convince them you won't bite (you will and you have).

One day the farmer comes home from town looking more excited than usual. You plop yourself on his head as he walks around his little cottage.

As he sorts through all the items he bought you get impatient and decide he's not paying enough attention to you. You fly right in front of his face and pose for him, showing off the new outfit you made out of flower petals in his garden.

"Not right now, Tiny."

The farmer rolls his eyes and gently shoos you away with his hand, focusing back onto his apparently very interesting haul from the market. The very rude gesture gets you all fired up and you're in his face again this time with your hands on your hips and an angry expression. The farmer sighs and gently cradles your tiny body in his hands.

"Look, I'm busy. Alright?"

He walks over to the windowsill and gently plops you down onto the little pincushion he set aside for you. You sit there with your arms crossed, glaring at him as he puts away his items.

While you're sulking you notice a little bottle of purple liquid poking out of the farmers front pocket. You quietly flutter over and sneakily inch the tiny thing out of his pocket.

"Hey!"

The farmer tries to stop you but you're much faster than him and fly up, out of his reach. The glass bottle is a little bigger than you're torso and when you inspect it the label says "Growth serum"

You let out quite a dramatic gasp and look down at the farmer, betrayal written all over your face.

"Now Tiny, don't jump to conclu-"

The farmer starts but is interrupted by a very angry fairy yelling things he doesn't understand right in his face. All he can hear is jingles but he's sure he's getting severely cussed at. He understands why, you helped this man grow his crops bigger and better than ever and now you think he wants to replace you for some stupid, probably overpriced serum?

You angrily throw the bottle to the ground and the farmer dives down to clumsily catch it before it smashes onto the floor.

As you feel tears fall down your hot cheeks, you flutter back to your windowsill and sit with your head between your knees.

"Hey, don't cry now."

The farmer sheepishly leans against the windowsill next to you.

"I promise, it's not for the plants. You already help me out so much with that and I appreciate it a lot. I don't need anything else."

You peak your head out from your arms and look at him skeptically.

He holds his hand out to you and you hesitantly flutter onto his palm, enjoying the warmth of his touch despite the cold wetness of your cheeks.

"Truth is, it's lonely for me out here... and I know you get lonely too."

You scoff at him. Obviously, the whole reason you were upset in the first place was because he was ignoring you.

"I uh... I got this for you. So we could....uh well only if you want to, I mean... I don't know."

You stare at him dumbfounded as he fumbles his words, you've never seen the farmer like this before.

You shoot up to hug his cheek, jingling in excitement. You give him tiny kisses and he laughs at the ticklish feeling. You float to the counter in front of him and bounce on your heels waiting for him.

"Alright, alright."

He chuckles at your stark change in mood and uncaps the tiny bottle of magic liquid. You brace yourself as he carefully lets one single drop fall onto your little head.

Nothing happens for a moment but before you could feel disappointed the world blurs and you're suddenly face to face with your farmer.

He stares down at where you sit on his counter, now perfectly human sized. Your cute dress didn't survive the quick transition but you don't seem to mind as you jump the poor farmer.

You grab his face and kiss him deeply. Finally feeling his lips on yours makes your wings flutter and your heart sing as you lock your legs around him to pull his body closer.

"Alright, slow down."

He says through kisses and huffed laughs as you kiss all over his face and neck.

"Now why don't you let me show you how much I appreciate you."

He mumbles in a sultry tone, bringing his hands down to grip your ass and grind your hips into him.

He laughs at the way your wings violently flutter and takes that as eager agreement.

˚˖′.⊹ ࣪ ˖˚·˖*.⊹ ࣪ ˖˚·˖′.⊹ ࣪ ˖˚·˖*.⊹ ࣪ ˖˚·˚˖′.⊹ ࣪ ˖˚·˖*.⊹

[ice-man-goes-bwoah]

Can you write Remmick x reader (female) smut

She’s insecure about her body maybe she thinks her bush is way too much and he’d be weirded out?

Primal Devotion|| Remmick x Fem!Reader

MDNI+18

Summary reader is insecure of her body but remmick being the old ass he is he reassures her that he likes her the way she is.

Warnings: Smut, body worship, slight degradation/praise kink, vampire instincts, mentions of body insecurity, possessiveness, marking, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (vaginal), aftercare, slight bloodplay, mentions of body hair

A/n— this is an ambiguous/inclusive reader so anyone can imagine themselves as the reader. Also, she has a bush and is chubby so if you don’t like it please leave!

A/n#2 I saw a remmick fan art about this very thing and I love it

The flickering candlelight casts long shadows across the room, the scent of smoke and lavender mingling thickly in the air. Remmick’s eyes are heavy with want, that dark crimson hue flashing beneath hooded lids as he watches you writhe beneath him. His hands are splayed on your thighs, fingers pressing just hard enough to remind you of his strength, his claim.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, voice thick and gravelly. His hands move, fingertips grazing the soft flesh of your thighs, up to your hips. “You hide this from me? Hide this perfection?”

Your cheeks flush, hands fisting in the sheets. “I just… I thought…”

“Shh,” he soothes, trailing his thumb along the crease where your thigh meets your core. “There is not a part of you I don’t want to taste… to worship.” His eyes flick up to yours, dark and unyielding. “Understand?”

You nod, breath catching as he leans down, his mouth brushing over your curls. He inhales, eyes slipping shut like he’s savoring the very scent of you. “God…” he groans, voice muffled against your skin. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

His tongue flicks out, dragging a slow, deliberate path through your folds, parting you with a patience that borders on cruel. You gasp, hips bucking against his mouth, but his hands are there—steady, firm—keeping you in place.

“That’s it,” he praises, voice vibrating against you. “Just like that, pretty thing. Let me hear you.”

A whimper spills from your lips as he laps at you, tongue teasing, circling, and then dipping inside with a possessive sort of desperation. His fangs graze your sensitive skin, light enough to tease but never to break—not yet. You can feel the cool edge of them, a reminder of what he is, what you’ve given yourself to.

“Remmick,” you pant, hands flying to his hair, fingers tangling in the inky strands. He growls, the sound rumbling against your core, and your body arches, thighs trembling. His tongue flicks against your clit, slow at first, then faster, building a rhythm that has you gasping his name in broken syllables.

His grip tightens on your thighs, pulling you closer, deeper into his mouth. “You’re mine,” he murmurs between strokes, voice thick with possession. “This—” he nips at your inner thigh, the sting sharp and delicious, “—all of this is mine.”

“Yes,” you whimper, legs trembling around his head. “Yours.”

Something snaps in him then, and he growls, the sound more beast than man. His mouth descends on you again, relentless and consuming. You’re panting, writhing, and it’s too much—too much and not enough. His tongue presses against your clit, swirling and sucking, and when his fingers slip inside you, curling just right, you break.

Your body seizes, pleasure bursting through you in hot, dizzying waves. Remmick holds you through it, tongue never ceasing, lapping up everything you give him with a reverence that borders on worship.

He only pulls back when you’re shivering from overstimulation, his lips and chin slick with evidence of your release. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes feral and gleaming. “Not finished with you yet, love.”

Before you can catch your breath, he’s crawling up your body, his mouth capturing yours. You taste yourself on his tongue, sharp and sweet, and it makes you moan against his lips. Your body feels heavy and on fire from his venom. You more. You crave more. His hands cradle your face, thumbs stroking your cheeks as he kisses you slow and deep, like he’s savoring every second.

His weight settles between your legs, and you feel him, hard and heavy, pressing against your entrance. “I’ll be gentle,” he murmurs, voice softening, though his eyes still burn with need. “This first time… I want you to feel every inch.”

You nod, eyes locked with his as he presses forward, the stretch slow and aching. He’s big—bigger than you’d imagined—and you gasp, nails scraping down his back. Remmick’s forehead presses to yours, his breath hot against your lips. “That’s it,” he breathes. “Take me… just like that.”

He moves inch by inch, not rushing, letting you feel the way he fills you, stretches you, claims you. Your legs wrap around his waist, heels digging into his back as he sinks into the hilt, a low groan spilling from his lips. “Fuck… you feel—God, you feel perfect.”

You’re barely able to speak, lost in the sensation of him, the way he fits so perfectly inside you. When he finally starts to move, it’s slow and deep, dragging against every nerve. His hands cradle your face, eyes locked on yours, and you feel the intimacy of it like a brand.

“Look at me,” he whispers, thrusts growing sharper, more desperate. “I want to see you when you come.”

You can barely hold his gaze, the intensity of it making you feel bare and exposed, but you do. His hips snap against yours, pace quickening, and you cling to him, nails biting into his shoulders. His mouth finds your throat, kissing, sucking, and then you feel the scrape of fangs.

“Can I?” he asks, voice rough. “Please.”

You nod, and he sinks his teeth in—not hard enough to hurt, just enough to mark, to claim. The sensation flares white-hot, sending you spiraling over the edge, clenching around him as your body trembles with release. He groans against your skin, hips stuttering as he follows, his warmth spilling into you in hot, shuddering pulses.

He stays there, pressed against you, his lips ghosting over the bite mark as your breaths slow. Gently, he slips out, rolling to the side and gathering you into his arms. His hands are soft now, tracing gentle patterns along your back.

“You did so well,” he whispers, brushing a kiss to your forehead. “So perfect for me.”

You melt into him, the warmth of his body chasing away any lingering chill. He reaches for a cloth nearby, wetting it before gently cleaning you up, his touch tender and deliberate. It’s almost reverent, the way he cares for you, like he’s afraid you might slip away.

When he’s finished, he pulls the covers over you both, tucking you into his side. His hand strokes your hair, fingertips brushing your temple. “Are you alright?” he asks, voice soft.

You nod, burying your face in his chest, heart thrumming with contentment. “Better than alright.”

He chuckles, the sound rumbling through you. “Good. Because I’m not done with you yet, little one.” His voice drops to a whisper. “I’m never going to be done with you.”

[seumyo]

when life gives you a kuroo tetsurou who’s helplessly in love.

NOTE. when life gives you tangerines inspired! but this is not as angsty <33

Kuroo, for all his seventeen years of living, was still getting used to the farm life.

He was as thin as a willow reed and walked on the sandy edge of the main road that wound through their small coastal village like a sleepy snake. A woven bamboo basket dangled from his elbow, mostly empty except for two daikon and a packet of tofu wrapped in wax paper. His hair stuck to his forehead, and his face was slightly flushed—not from the sun (though maybe it did play a part), but because you were up ahead.

You were walking fast, faster than someone your size should, and the sound of your feet hitting the ground in short, stubborn stomps made his heart squeeze. You were carrying two buckets filled with what Kuroo assumed were freshly caught fish from your father’s boat. As he had thought earlier.

“[Name]!” He called out, lengthening his stride, “Wait for me!”

You didn’t turn around.

Ouch.

“[Name]! You’ll hurt your shoulders again if you carry both of those all the way down the shore by yourself.”

“Again?” You sighed at this point. “I’ve done it before,” you told him without stopping. “You’re not seriously following me all the way to the coast again, are you?”

“I’m not following,” he said, stepping alongside you now, trying to match your brisk walk. His voice was softer than yours, slightly shaky, not from nervousness exactly—but from restraint. “I was just… out. Walking.”

You turned around sharply, your eyes barely meeting his as the sun shone down on you two, though whether from exertion or something else, he wouldn’t tell. “Tch. You always say that. You walk behind me, you linger at the docks when my father’s boat returns, and then you suddenly have errands in the market at the same time I do. Do you think I’m stupid?”

“No!” Kuroo blinked, clearly startled. “I mean, no, of course not! I just… I think you could use the company. And help with carrying the catch.” He offered you a crooked little smile, like he was embarrassed even as he meant it. And he meant it. Every word.

“I don’t like your company.”

“Ouch—please be nicer to me!”

You frowned, shifting the buckets. “You can't even carry one of these, you know that? Last week you tried and dropped all the mackerel in the dirt.”

“I was… distracted.” He pouted, lips softening into a line, brows tugging together in that pathetic way of his that always made you annoyed for exactly four seconds before you wanted to sigh and forgive him. “That only happened once.” Kuroo glanced down at his hands, then muttered, “Twice.”

“And when you tried to help my father untangle the nets, you fell into the water and cried.”

“I didn’t cry,” he said quickly, though his ears turned red. “I just… got saltwater in my eyes.”

You laughed, loud and unfiltered, the sound mixing with the screech of seabirds flying overhead. He thinks he must be coming down with an illness because his chest suddenly feels tight.

“I’m not useless,” he added softly, after a pause. “Even if I can’t dive like you or carry heavy things, I can… distract the crows.”

You glanced at him again, and this time, your smile was small, more like you were trying not to laugh again. “You wave your arms like a scarecrow, Tetsurou. You look ridiculous.”

“Your scarecrow, at the very least,” he mumbled under his breath, looking away.

“You know what?”

“What?”

“You could be useful. Carry this one; it’s lighter.”

“Wait—ow! Heavy,” he wheezed quietly, balancing his basket on one arm and a bucket in the other. You looked at him flatly. “I— I was wrong. It’s not very heavy at all; I can handle it.”

You made your way to the market, where the tide was gently lapping against the dock—distant and familiar. An array of stalls greeted your path, and you took the initiative to greet a few vendors on your way. The village dogs barked at gulls nearby. You dropped your bucket and rolled your sleeves further, while Kuroo did the same beside you and tried to copy your movements—though his long, knobby fingers didn’t move with the same confidence.

Just a quick break before delivering the fish to the customer.

“You don’t have to keep coming with me me,” you said after a moment, your voice quieter. “Your mother’s going to shout at me again.”

Kuroo looked down at the pavement. “She’s just…” he paused. “She’s proud? Doesn’t like fishermen much. Says your family takes more than they give.”

“She threw an egg at me last week.”

“I know!” Kuroo said quickly, face twisting in horror. “I tried to stop her—I even blocked the second one with my arm!”

You chuckled, then sighed, then began walking again as you adjusted your grip. “You’ll get in trouble, too. What if she stops feeding you rice again?”

“She only did that for two days.” He paused. “I ate sweet potatoes.”

Your gaze flicked to him, lips twitching. “You really don’t give up, do you?”

“No,” he said softly. “Not when it’s you.”

You looked away, the wind tugging at your slightly worn-down clothes. Just then, Kuroo turned just in time to see his mother barreling out from behind a stall, holding a straw broom in her hand like a weapon.

“Don’t run, Tetsurou! I told you not to hang around that girl again!”

“Mother, please—she’s not—she didn’t do anything—”

“You call sneaking around and making eyes at a fisherman’s daughter nothing? I saw you two loitering by the harbor last week and again outside the tofu shop!”

You didn’t wait to hear more. You grabbed the other bucket from Kuroo and took off running down the alley behind the teahouse. He didn’t even hear you say anything—you just ran.

Kuroo spun toward his mother, panic rising. “Stop, Mother, she’s just trying to help her family!”

“She’s just using you to get better prices at the market! She even haggled with old man Yamada! We’re not like them, Tetsurou! We're farmers! Proud people!”

Kuroo’s attempts at keeping his mother at bay faltered. He stood awkwardly, unsure what to say.

But you, from far off, yelled back, “I earned that discount! His cabbages were half-rotten!”

His mother screeched again.

“Mama, they help us a lot!”

“Help her family seduce mine’s son, you mean! If your grandmother were alive—“

“She’d say you’re being cruel!” he shouted, surprising them both.

His mother froze. Her expression darkened. “Don’t talk back to me, Tetsurou.”

Eventually, his mother stormed off, muttering about curses and disobedience, leaving Kuroo with slumped shoulders and his words clinging to him like a knife. The other bystanders just nodded approvingly; something about humbling his mother was just what she deserved.

-

Much later, when the sun had begun to dip behind the hills and the tide crept lazily back to shore, Kuroo found himself wandering the edge of the beach where the fishermen’s boats were tethered. He spotted you near the rocks, skipping flat stones over the surface of the water.

You didn’t look at him, but you didn’t run either.

“I heard the miso lady gave you rice crackers for dodging my mom again,” he said sheepishly, wiping the smut off his cheeks to at least make himself look presentable.

You sniffed. “She said I was quick. Like a fox.”

“You are. A pretty one.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re hopeless.”

“I know.”

A silence passed, interrupted only by the gentle lap of waves and the distant rustle of cicadas.

“She’s going to make me sleep with the chickens again,” he murmurs.

You sighed. “You’re the only boy I know who’d get kicked out of his own house for helping a girl.”

“I’m the only boy you know who likes you this much,” he said, scratching his cheek. “Even if I can’t swim or carry stuff or stop my mom from launching eggs.”

Your gaze softened. “You’re a fool.”

“I know. Trouble’s worth it if it means seeing you smile.”

“Uh huh.”

“And you’re worth being foolish for.”

You didn’t say anything to that. Just looked at him with a strange, tired affection. Then tossed him a fatty tuna you’d caught earlier from the bucket beside you.

It smacked him right on the shoulder.

“…ow.”

You smiled. “Next time, try not to defend me too much to the point of getting kicked out. The climate’s getting colder these nights.” You fiddled with the sleeve of your shirt, just a little. “And... I think you can spend the night in my brothers’ room if you want. Sleeping next to chickens is awful.”

And under the setting sun, with the scent of salt in the air and his heart thudding like a taiko drum, Kuroo realized—he didn’t care how many buckets he spilled or how many times he got chased through the market or how many times you looked at him unimpressed.

If you cared about him just as he cared about you, then he thinks he’ll be ok. This is where he wants to be, beside you.

He nodded. “Right. I’ll keep that in mind.”

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