#even when given multiple chances to move on

[storiesoferoda]

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐧 જ⁀➴ 

part 6; prev part: spill your guts

Summary: Clark finally gets his second chance at taking you out; hopefully, this one goes better.

Warnings: none, fluff <3

Word count: 1,818

Author's note: See!!! told you it would be out later today, and if it's tomorrow for you, sorry! I Also incase anyone cares its maroon in a taylor swift kinda way if that gives you any insight

You had closed your phone that night, not bothering to see if Clark texted again, and then did not check it again when you woke up, leaving your phone on do not disturb. You almost turned it off when you got into work and realized he wasn't there, but you refrained. 

Which proved to be the right move. 10 minutes after everyone had meant to be there, you heard the squeaky wheel of the chair next to you. You looked over to see that Clark possessed a single rose and your favorite coffee. 

“Hi,” he said, holding out both for you to take. You take them, setting them on your desk before looking back up at him. “Is this the apology?” you question curiously. “Are you buying my affection back?” you half laugh, and to be honest, if he brought you a coffee every day for the rest of the week, your ‘hatred’ would be almost a distant memory by then. 

“No,” he said, sitting down. “I was hoping I could get another chance.” 

“Another chance, Kent?” you questioned, taking a sip of the coffee, and oh my god, it was perfect. It was sweet and cold, and it was your exact order down to the milk. 

“Please, if- only if you want. If you don't want to, I will just apologize, and we can both move on,” he said sincerely. “I feel horrible, and I want to make it right.”

You stared at him, taking another shift. Your gaze pierced him, but you finally tore away from your coffee. “So what does this second chance entail?” 

“I’ll handle everything, you just show up, yeah?” 

“Okay, sure, don't mess it up.” 

“I really hope I don’t.” your heart fluttered at that. 

── .✦     

The only information you had for this date was the singular message Clark had sent you. It was a simple text that read:

TODAY'S DATE: location: secret

Dress code: casual 

Time: 6:30 sharp 

See you soon :) 

For some reason, the smiley face gave you butterflies. But what really made your heart soar was when he brought over even more flowers. Even bigger than the last time. You had asked multiple times on your walk where you were going, but he didn't budge. He had one of three responses: "Somewhere, it's a secret, you’ll find out,” which you had let out a groan to every time, and every time without fail, he would squeeze your hand and smile, showing his dimples. It was like heaven on earth. You had reservations about a second chance, but once again, the conversation flowed, the vibes were right, and it felt like once again, your stars were aligned. 

You two had been walking for a hot minute after getting on the subway, and you actually had no idea where you were going, but you watched as he pulled a door open to a cafe and motioned for you to move forward. “A cafe? Seems like a quick restaurant. Are you going to leave me again?” 

“Low blow, but I deserved that. And no, this is our first stop.” First? As you reached the register, you watched as Clark ordered two peppermint hot chocolates. And you felt bad at how much this many had given you, so in an attempt to even the field, you reached for your purse, but one hand shot out to grab your arm, and the other handed over his card. “My treat,” is all he said. A smile escaped you; it was a bit awkward for you as you stood to wait for the coffee, mostly because physical touch was your love language, and you had a need to be close to him, but everyone has this thing called boundaries, and you didn't want to cross his. So you stood back and waited as the barista called his name. He grabbed both of them before returning to you, holding the door open for you once again, setting out on this mission. 

The night was chilly as it got to the later months, and tonight was no different, but you both were warming up with the cocoa. And thankfully, not even five minutes later, he opened another door, and as soon as you stepped into the store, you almost gasped. It was the most beautiful bookstore you had ever seen, walls and walls of books, old, new, used, and fresh off the press, there was absolutely everything there for you. Clark had just let you take it all in, and he watched as you stared at the tables of new releases and the wall of bookmarks before speaking up. 

“Get whatever you want,” he said. 

“What?” you turned 

“Whatever you want, one, five, ten,” He said, completely serious. 

“No, no, I couldn't.”

“It's fine, I promise. Please,” he said. 

Your eyes lit up. “You're really pretty when you're happy. Like your whole face lights up,” he blurted out, and you turned away, hiding the blush creeping into your cheeks. "Sorry,” he said. 

“No, no. It's just more so I have never had a compliment like that,” it was true most of them had been about your appearance, not so much your light. You started to circle around the books, looking at all of them, picking up the ones that were especially interesting or pointing out which ones you had read, which were a lot of them. Sometimes you’d find an empty spot to set down the cocoa, and it would always find its way into the hands of Clark. 

“I actually really like that one,” he said, pointing to the book in your hands. 

“You’ve read it?” holding up a copy of Sally Rooney's Normal People. He nodded. “I won't spoil it, but it was sad and good in a really beautiful way.” You smiled. 

“Clark, are you a reader?” you smiled and joked, and he nodded. 

“I like to read more than being on my phone, so a couple of years ago I deleted all my socials and started other hobbies.” 

“Very profound of you, Clark I think you're better than most people in the world, better than me.” 

He shook his head, “No, no, it just wasn't good for me, but I do indulge sometimes on my computer. I'm not totally off the social grid, just don't post.” he picked up his own book and started looking at some, putting two in his hand for later. Eventually, the bookstore took you in its grasp, and the more you looked, the more you wanted. 

And for only a split second, you had two books in your hands before they found their way into Clark's hands, and he held onto them for you. You guys had spent more than two hours in that bookstore; it was an even bigger surprise to learn that there was an upstairs, and even the stairs had more books piled onto them; it was book heaven to you. And the whole time, Clark follows you around like a lost puppy watching the books you pick with a smile on his face. 

And as part of his promise, when you get to the register, Clark pays for yours and his books and even takes the bag and carries it back on the way out. He looks over to you as he carries a huge bag that must be heavy, and you can't help but feel the tiniest bit bad, but the bag looks light in his hands. 

“I have one more thing if that's okay with you,” he says, looking at you with a smile. 

“Yeah, lead the way, this is your date after all,” you say and motion for him to lead you. 

── .✦     

The third and final stop of the night had been a hidden little food truck in the parking lot. And according to Clark, it would be the best thing you've ever tasted. You had chosen the birria tacos, and Clark surprisingly chose an order of four tacos and a huge burrito. You laughed at him when he ordered it, but then you realized he was 6 '4 which was much taller than you, and roughly 230 pounds of pure muscle; he had to get it from somewhere. 

The dinner was phenomenal, he wasn't wrong, and you even got ice cream after. As you two walked home, you both had your own ice cream cones and talked as the night moved around you two. 

“The other day, it was an emergency, I have an well a well-trained dog and he got lost and I had to get him back, and while it happened, he kinda…kicked my ass.” He laughs. "He's a strong dog and not well trained.” 

“You have a dog?” you questioned, taking a bite of the waffle cone. 

“Well, more of a foster situation, but the point is, I'm so sorry I ran out on you like that, you deserved an explanation. And no one deserved that, especially not you. Running out like you're trying to get away from a bad date, because on my end, I had an amazing time, and I did today too.” 

“I did too. It was definitely even better than the first one.” 

“Is that because I bought you stuff?” 

“No,” you say as you shake your head, yes joking with him. His shoulder knocks yours as you approach your building, seeing it in the distance. You drop your trash in the trash can and continue walking. “No, I just had an amazing time with you, Clark. I really like hanging out with you without all the work stuff.” 

“Me too, I'm glad you joined the Daily Planet cause I wouldn't have met you if you didnt.” his face was a bit maroon. You smile at him, and in that same moment, his hands make their way to your face, pushing back hair as your breath catches and your heart practically stops. He leans in closer, his breath hot on your neck as he whispers, “Is this okay?” You only nod, and he plants a small kiss on your neck, on your cheek, and finally on your lips. 

And for a moment, everything makes sense. Your face feels hot, and your head is pounding, but everything feels right as you return it, deepening the kiss. He breaks away, a smile forming on his lips as his forehead hits yours. “I had a great time tonight.” 

“Me too.” It was breathless, but god, were you breathless after that. 

“Goodnight, y/n” 

“Goodnight, Clark,” you smiled, going on your tip toes to plant a kiss on his cheek, taking the bag from his hands, taking your books, and returning the rest. You smiled as you pushed through the door. You turned back to see him watching as you walked onto the elevator, only motioning to leave once the elevator closed again. 

As the elevator motioned to move, you felt your phone buzz. 

Clark: Thank you for a second chance.

(🏷️: @ifilwtmfc , @casiiopea2 , @clark-kents-bae , @nightmaredressedlikeadaydream57 , @otakusimp1 )

Comment or dm me to be added or removed from the taglist!! (Also, if you could specify if you want all Superman fics or just this series, it would be greatly appreciated!! )

[kivaember]

me writing some young jupiter... i enjoy it bc walt and mich are just dumb 20 year olds fighting over such dumb things before The Horrors start... (well the horrors have already started for walter but this is like a beach episode for him).

hrngh i wanna do some mindless low energy drabbles with these two...

Speak of the devil.  

Walter grunted as he peeled himself off his bed and zombie shuffled to his bedroom door. He only opened it by a crack, glowering at the intruder with a distinctly unimpressed look. 

As always, Michigan’s chest was too fucking big. It was the first damn thing he saw. 

“Kohler! Good, you’re still awake!” Michigan said, as always a master of the obvious.

“I’m sleepwalking, actually,” Walter deadpanned. 

Michigan guffawed, planting his hands on his hips like he thought he was some big shot superhero on a Saturday morning cartoon. “Always quick on the draw with those jokes of yours! Anyway, I’m glad I caught you-”

“You knocked on my bedroom door. I wouldn’t call that ‘catching’.” 

Michigan ignored him. “I was thinking, since tomorrow’s our rest day, why don’t we get to know each other a bit better? We’ve been roommates for a week, and we’ve barely talked!”

you make that sound like a bad thing, Walter almost said, physically biting his tongue to restrain his instinctive anti-social tendencies. This was fortuitous for him, he tried to convince himself. Michigan was doing all the heavy lifting here, making the first move. Walter just had to keep the momentum going. 

But he’d wanted to sleep tomorrow. He was exhausted. Just where did Michigan get all this energy? Maybe he was genetically engineered in a lab somewhere, designed to be as annoying and exhausting as possible, a true social menace to introverts like himself. 

He wanted to refuse so badly, but…

The mission. 

Walter heaved a quiet sigh. “...why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you care if we’ve barely talked?” Walter grunted. “I’m working class scum. A sewer rat. Though, I think the upper class calls us… drones, right? Like we’re mindless ants in a nest?”

Michigan’s open friendliness faltered a little, his expression tightening into a grimace. “Well…”

“Isn’t it a bad look for you to be willingly mingling with a person like me?” Walter drawled. 

“Like I give a damn!” Michigan snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. He scowled fiercely. “I told you on that shitty obstacle course: my old man’s washed his hands of me. My rep’s already in the gutter, and that’s just how I like it. In fact, if my old man hears I’m running around with a dro- working class recruit, he’d probably have a meltdown. It’s win/win, in my eyes.”

“Hm.”

“C’mon, Kohler.” Michigan’s mouth curved into a far too knowing smirk. “You’ll stand to gain too.”

“Really.” Walter mimicked him, crossing his arms over his chest and cocking his head to the side. “Alright, I’ll bite. What’ll be in it for me?” 

“Money,” Michigan said immediately. 

“Money,” Walter repeated flatly. 

“Money.” Michigan’s smirk widened. “I mean, as a rentboy, you’d be-”

Walter started to shut his door. 

“Wait! Wait, wait! Joke! Joking!” Michigan hastily wedged his foot in the door, and stoically endured Walter closing the door on it a few times before he stopped. “Ow! You little- you’re a feral little bitch, you know that?”

“It’s one of my charm points,” Walter huffed. “That’s one strike, by the way.”

“I’m on a strike system?!”

“Yeah.”

Michigan looked like he was going to say a lot about that, but he wisely swallowed it down at the last second. “Ugh, well, worthwhile things don’t come easily…”

“You have anything else to offer me, or was money the only card you had to play?” Walter asked, genuinely a little curious. He supposed if you grew up amongst the privileged ranks of the executives, there probably was little money couldn’t buy you.

“Erugh… shoulda known you wouldn’t be that easy,” Michigan bemoaned. “You did say you were expensive. Well, let’s see… hmm… uh… food?”

“You already make me food.”

“More food?”

Walter started closing the door again. 

[lostalioth]

𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭

→ premise: eddie wasn’t convinced you were as innocent as you acted. his pervy thoughts of you were often guided by all the little dirty things you did. he knew he shouldn’t think that way you were his friend after all but you had to know what you were doing to him right?

→ pairing: perv!bestfriend!eddie x fem!reader

→ warnings: smut | 18+, 2.1k words, corruption kink, dacryphilia, frontagge? [eddie rubs his dick against her til he cums?] unprotected penetration, small bit of degrading language [whore], nicknames [baby, pretty girl, sweets, pretty best friend], reader is described to wear eddies shirt and pink/girly clothing a bit, not proofread

→ a/n: kinktober 12

Eddie was a touchy guy, a very touchy best friend in fact. He seemed to lack any awareness of personal space when it came to you.

Having you sit in his lap during movie nights whether it's just the two of you or if Robin or Steve join in. Laying his head in your lap while you play with his hair and his hands palm at your thighs tracing shapes on them. Draping his arm over your shoulders and pulling you to his side when you're in the middle of a conversation with someone or leaning his body weight against you. Now to you and your naive mind, you found all this and everything else he may do as innocent, you didn't understand why everyone new you met assumed the two of you were dating.

Except for Eddie everything he did, he had a little pervy underlying reason to it. Leaning on you and pulling your body against his to feel your soft skin on his and subconsciously claiming you as his. Sitting you in his lap to feel the heat radiating from your pussy on his cock even through multiple layers of fabric. Laying his head on your lap and rubbing on your thighs Imagining his head is buried between them instead.

Constantly he came up with any excuse he could to have his hands on you, to have your body against his, even rub up against you when given the chance when he’d scoot behind you to get somewhere even if there was a clearer path to his destination. Rubbing his bulge lightly against your ass when he’d brush by. To him there was no way you weren’t aware of his intentions when he did these things and all the little pervy moves he made. Every dirty thought he had or thing he did was guided by the seemingly not so innocent things you would do.

Though you weren’t actually aware of just what the things you'd do, did to poor ole’ Eddie. Batting your eyelashes at him when you wanted to be the one to pick the movie, pressing your body against him of your own accord when a scary part came on during one of his movie picks. He even swears though he isn’t 100% sure it wasn't a very vivid dream that you were grinding your ass against him for a second one time you were sitting in his lap.

It was currently one of those frequent movie nights and Eddie was painfully hard, his cock has been aching the moment he walked inside your house. Part of it sure was that he was just excited to have quality time with his pretty little best friend but then when he came in and saw the state you were in he was a goner. You were more comfortable around Eddie than anyone and you had opted to be cozy so all you had on was a long t-shirt and frilly pink socks, no pants on. Being the perv he was and with the fact he couldn't tell exactly he was secretly wishing you didn't have any panties on either.

Eddie got to pick the movie and it was one he’d seen a million times over so it didn't matter that he couldn't bring himself to pay attention. His eyes glued to you, your thighs exposed almost more than they are when you wear your tiny lacey skirts that also almost kill Eddie. Any last drop of reserve or self-control he had was slowly draining away from his body.

If he thought too hard about everything he felt like a piece of shit bestfriend that all he could think of during movie nights anymore was bending you over your living room couch and claiming your pussy as his. Making you his as you whine and moan that it's too much to take and he tells you what a good girl you’re being. Expect there was a small denranged part of him that desperatly wanted to corrupt your sweet naive mind until you’re the one who can only think about him fucking you, making you just as much of a pervert as he was.

Far too lost in own dirty thoughts he fails to notice that the movie has now ended, meaning it was your turn to pick and he should probably stop staring at your body.

“That was a good movie. Ed's wasn't as scary of a movie as you usually pick” your sweet voice snaps him out of his trance and he reluctantly tears his gaze away from your thighs crossed over one another.

“Oh uh yeah, figured I’d pick a calmer one this time for you sweets” he explains, lightly coughing as he squeezed the pillow that's been covering his lap this whole time, a small smile that doesn't reach his eyes forms on his face as he finally turns his attention to your face. Though switching his focus fails to dull the throbbing in his stiff cock, if it goes on any longer there's definitely going to be a wet spot in his boxers. You smile back at him before getting up from the couch, running over to the kitchen and putting the empty popcorn bowl in the sink. He watches as you walk away, a small groan leaving his lips, it didn't help that the shirt you wore was one of his old hellfire shirt’s. You in his clothes always made his heart ache just as much as his dick, you often stole his shirts or hoodies which didn't help people thinking you were dating and Eddie secretly loved that.

With a bounce in your step you make your way back over to the couch, standing more in front of Eddie as you do. Bending at the waist you lean over to pick the remote up off the oddly low coffee table, your shirt riding up as you do. Giving him an agonizingly perfect view of your ass and the mound of your pussy in your little pink panties. “Oh fuck..” he groans out, his knuckles turning white from how hard he is gripping the pillow infront of him. You turn around facing him now as you lean back up, having heard Eddie mumble out something. “What’d you say Ed’s??” You question with a cute look of confusion on your face.

His last ounce of composure and restraint flies out the window as he throws the pillow off his lap and grabs ahold of your hips pulling you into his lap.

“You fucking feel that pretty girl? That’s what you do to me, fuckin’ killing me sweets” he groans out, his bulge pressed right against your cunt, his jeans and your thin panties do nothing to stop him from feeling the heat settling in your core. you gasp out dropping the remote onto the cushion besides you as you feel just how hard he is. The cold metal of his rings sends a shiver down your spine when his hands push up at your shirt, bunching it up as they go. “But- I didn't do anything, or- I didn't mean to anyway Ed’s” you manage to stutter out, taken aback by both his abruptness and how good his cock feels against you even confined in denim. Lifting you up before letting go of your hips for a second so you're hovering over him, he unbuckles his belt and button to his jeans before tugging them down his thighs. “Ed’s I-I dont think best friends do this…” you whine out yet don't make any move to stop him as he grabs ahold of your hips again, planting your pussy right on his cock again with only thin underwear separating you now. You may be naive and innocent but you weren't a virgin you were well aware of what he was doing.

“it’s okay baby, just be my pretty little best friend and let me play with you okay, my cocks aching for ya’ yeah?” His tone is soft and slurred, his head going hazy in desire for you and the fact you were letting him go this far. “Mhmm~ okay i can do that” you whine out, your hips having a mind of their own squirming and grinding against him as his hands rub down your thighs.

“Atta girl sweets, s’good to me, always so sweet on me” he groans out as his fingers inch closer and closer to your aching pussy. Your slick has managed to begin soaking your panties, while Eddie's tip leaks precum forming a matching wet spot on his boxers. Tugging your panties to the side he runs his middle and ring finger through your slick folds, running over your clit that jumps at the small bit of attention. Your breath catches in your lungs as your eyes are glued to where your best friend's hands are playing with your leaking pussy. “Eddie.. it feels s’good” you whine out your hips bucking at his touch every time his fingers brush over your bundle of nerves.

“Look at you pretty girl, so fucking wet f’me like a little fucking whore” he groans out as he pushes down at his boxers, you lift your hips to help subconsciously. He pushes them down only enough to let his cock spring free, his cock thick, tip reddened and as veins run along the underside of his shaft. Your eyes are entranced by the sight, your mouth watering and your hole clenching around nothing, who knew your best friend had such a pretty cock.

Grabbing onto the base of his cock he angles it to nudge open your slit and run his tip through your soaked folds, grinding his shaft against your pussy. “Ahh~ pleasee Ed’s need you inside” you whine out, already getting overwhelmed, his cock rubbing against your bundle of nerves and tip just barely pushing at your hole before slipping out. The ongoing teasing and desire for him to push inside you crowd your head making it go fuzzy. “Nooo not yet baby, not till you're begging for it, gotta corrupt my sweet innocent little best friend til shes a cock hungry whore begging for me to fuck her” he chuckled darkly, even though he was more desperate than you to finally push into the warm heat of your cunt he was gonna make you beg for it.

Tears well up in your eyes threatening to fall as you buck against him in response to his hips grinding against your pussy. “Aww ya’ gonna cry sweets? Go on cry baby, beg for it” he groans out, he knew it was sick but as your tears fall down your cheeks he can feel his balls tighten, heavy and full of cum that's almost ready to burst. Your slick and his precum mix together to soak your panties, the thin fabric turning see through as he hooks it over his cock to keep it pressed between your folds.

“Fuck im gonna cum pretty girl, should cum in these fuckin’ flimsy panties and ruin em’ then stuff them in your mouth as i stuff this pussy” he growls out, his words making your pussy throbbing and your head spin, your head nodding frantically desperate for him to do exactly that. “Yeah baby? Want me to do that?” He taunts, a lopsided smirk glued to his lips as he leans in closer, forehead pressed against yours while your tears continue to fall down your cheeks, your eyes turning red and puffy the longer you cry out in pleasure.

“Please Ed’s yes!~ please need you to cum and i need you to fuck me please” you moan out, a deep stasifaction settled in eddie at your plea and he surges forward to press his lips to yours muffling your whines. Your thighs burning from grinding desperately against him, the last string of Eddie's snaps just as you dig your nails into his biceps and cry out his name into the heated frantic kiss. Hot ropes of cum spurt out and coat the inside of your panties and paint your puffy folds. Not stopping his thrusting Eddie grabs his cock that's still sandwiched under your now ruined panties and guides his still leaking tip to your entrance. Pulling away from your lips, he slaps his hand over your mouth just as he pushes inside you in one sharp hard thrust. A cry of pleasure and maybe some pain falls from your lips, along side a long line of curse muffled agianst his rough hand as he fucks up into the wet heat of your pussy that clenches down on him.

“My pretty bestfriend’s gonna be such a good fuckin’ cock drunk whore, all f’me now, all mine” all you can do in nod in respone, your eyes nearly rolling back in pleasure.

→ a/n: I rushed the end of this so i could get it out today and get back on track with kinktober lmao and somehow its still 2 thousand words and some change lmao but anyway enjoy loves give me feedback and tell me if something is misspelled this wasnt read over as im tired.

[timmydraker]

Tim begins to distance himself from his family after Damian becomes Robin.

It was obvious in the way he ran off to rescue Bruce, but that was more of a physical thing at the end of the day. He was desperate and had lost any kind of safety net and support he had after Dick threatened Arkham and how badly he hurt Alfred with his instance that Bruce was alive.

Either way he was going to get Bruce back, if not because he felt like he was an aimless, nothing human being without Batman then there was that he wanted to be believed.

Then Dick handed over Robin to Damian who at that point genuinely despised Tim, though there was also a level of jealously in the young Wayne’s mind at the intelligence and analytical Tim.

It was then that Tim decided he would bring Bruce back and then do his own thing, outside of Robin and outside of Batman.

He clearly had done his job hadn’t he? Sure Bruce was dead, but Dick was acting as Batman and that Batman had a Robin, so his reasoning for being Robin was extinguished.

Tim brings Bruce back and the older man praises and thanks him for several days and then, like everything else, the attention moves away. It goes to him connecting with Damian on a vigilante level and catching up on the last several months of him being ‘dead’. It goes to Jason who, now that he’s lost his foster father has decided that maybe he could try a little harder after all.

It goes to everyone and anyone other than Tim and this time? That’s actually the plan.

Tim isn’t as good of a hacker as Barbara, but she’s basically a god at it so compared to others he might as well be master level, just not against her. This he uses to shift around peoples schedules so Alfred has no choice but to let him go to school on his own (Tim may have also invented an early morning ‘club’ that was totally legit and not at all a fabrication). He makes it so when Dick is over or Jason takes the rare opportunity to visit he had to work at WE or DI, something important he can’t neglect.

He never has to walk Ace or Titus because he’s busy with his team mates.

Team mates who think he’s busy helping out Batman.

Tim still does work as a hero, but it’s entirely through his businesses after a while. A few times he has no choice but to go out in a boring black suit with a full face mask and hoodie. It’s got nothing on it, no symbols or gadgets. Nothing to connect him to anyone.

He starts with the homeless, dishing out vaccines like candy without even doing a campaign to showcase it.

Then he changes Bruce’s rather naive approach to orphanages and makes it so every single child who is put through is given a small amount of funding. He makes it so kids have more chance to stay with siblings, makes sure everyone who even so much as enters the ground of a orphanage have a real background check and sure the adoption rate drops, but so does the missing kids and DV cases.

Tim steals over fifty million from people like Luther and Penguin and all kinds of corrupt rich assholes for the majority of the funding and not even a cent of it is traced back to Wayne or Drake businesses. Whiles he’s digging into Lex be manages to get enough evidence to put a sizeable dent in his reputation, even if Lex manages to smooch a fair bit of it back.

He’s manages to take out a large sized trafficking ring and helps get the victims into a real recovery home that he hand picks out security for.

Later, as in a few days afterward, he discovers a dog meat farm and everyone medical veterinary student suddenly finds themself free of student loans and debt and with multiple work opportunities available and volunteer work being down right pleased for.

Tim knows he’s being noticed but given that he basically lives in his office in the heart of the city, he isn’t there to hear his old teammates and ‘family’ talk about the mysterious Dread.

Dread who was named that after a report came out about a theory of an unknown hacker or ‘cyber vigilante’ who was stealing money and information from rich folk and giving it to the poor, giving all of the 1% dread that he would hit them next.

The exact quote was ‘Those with money deeper than their pockets dread the hackers next moves. And they should feel that dread as a warning for this Robin Hood like legend seems to be getting braver.’

Dick was sure the hacker would have been called Robin if he hadn’t chosen that name already, to which Barbara responded with grumbles and growl because she couldn’t find anything other than holes and traps left by the hacker. It was like they knew her every move before she even made it!

Tim, obvious to his growing reputation until it fully took off, hadn’t even considered that his actions would be framed a threat by Batman. He would say it was because he didn’t think Bruce would ever really target him like that, but in actuality it’s because he knew Bruce was one of the few good rich folk. Surely he would be on the side of a secret vigilante hacker trying to use horrible people to do good? He embraced Dread quickly and was happy he make the rich squirm and brought a sense of hope to people, it was just like Robin but instead of them being safe and given light they were given a peace of mind in a mix of revenge and justice.

What Tim doesn’t know is that Bruce is still too far into his whole image of black and white, good and evil, that he tends to forget there’s grey areas.

At least Jason is on the side of Dread, even if he still thinks the myth of a story is just that, a myth.

It’s when Tim blows up a bank when everyone has gone home for the night just so people will find the underground money ring that and he visits the manner to get a few things that he hears them talking about it.

By that point it’s been around two years since he dropped Robin and as usual Dick always greets him with a look of a desperate puppy, “Tim! Hi, you’re here. I haven’t seen you in months, how have you been?”

Tim smiles at Dick even if he hasn’t gotten over his anger at his oldest brother and moves to sit at the breakfast table with everyone (Alfred, Bruce, Jason and Damian).

“Good. Busy, we’ve had a lot of donations lately.”

Jason snorts, “No shit. Isn’t Wayne Enterprise one of the few ones not hit by Dread?”

Bruce grumbles and shakes his head, “I wouldn’t say that. They’ve managed to get into our system and completely changed the Jason Project.”

Jason grins and laughs happily, “you mean improved! Crime Ally is doing great now. Not the best, but still a fuck of a lot better.”

Smiling at the man who once beat him to an inch of his life, Tim takes a sip of his tea and casually says, “You’re welcome.”

The whole table goes quiet as Tim continues to casually sip his tea.

The silence carries for a total minute before Bruce puts down his cup and leans forward with a slight growl in his voice, “Explain.”

“Explain what?”

Bruce stands over his son even from halfway down the table and very obviously tries to calm himself with a deep breath, “What do you mean ‘you’re welcome’?”

Tim makes an ‘oh’ expression before cocking his head to the side in confusion, “I was the one who fixed the Jason Project? Wait, did you guys not realise I’m Dread?”

Damian shouts out a ‘what?!’ That makes Titus jump and Tim laughs under his breath, “What did you think I was doing?”

“Running the business! Not stealing from people and black mailing politicians!”

It’s Tim’s turn to growl now and he stands up himself with a glare at Bruce that is as close as any of them have gotten to the famed Bat-Glare, “Are you fucking kidding me? Like are you a Tully kidding me with that horse shit?”

Bruce looks stunned and Alfred doesn’t even tell him not to swear.

Tim slams his chair into the table.

“What the fuck else would I be doing, Bruce? I’m not Robin, that was taken from me, so what else was I gonna do? I finished my job, not only keeping you from killing anyone but bringing you back, so I had do pick something else. I’m not stealing from the rich, I’m stealing from selfish cunts who ruin peoples lives for no reason and giving it to people like Jason. So, don’t you fucking yell at me and don’t try to make me feel bad for this, not when I’ve done more in two years than you ever have and- don’t you fucking speak Dick, not when you were the one who took my place here away from me! Now, I have a trafficking ring I need to expose so good. Fucking. Day.”

Jason is the only one who follows him.

[readingbunny44]

You're Dead Everywhere But Here │ Invincible Variants x Reader x Mainstream Invincible │#2

#1, #2, #3, ...

Cecil tries to understand what's going on, and you try to get away. Everything becomes worse from here, and you're in the center of it Cecil discovers Mainstream Mark's complicated feelings for you, and you're getting your shit rocked by a buzzing wasp.

updated as of 07/18/2025

CW: swearing, mention/talks of suicide, violence, slight freakiness (guess whose being a freak)

WC: 6,7k 8.2k

@weaponxgames, @martinys-world, @lagataprrr, @lizurich, @katsukiswiife, @oxymorondemon, @sweetb3rry, @ashleeytrx, @pixviee, @pookiei-bookie, @cheesycheddarr

Cecil approached the big screens that hung on the wall, his hands on the hips of his suit as he narrowed his eyes, his blue eyes trying to analyze what was happening. “Donald,” he called out, “what is this? What’s going on now?” He asked, his voice stern but obviously confused.

The dots on the map indicated that multiple Invincible variants were gathered at one place, and there was a green dot in the center of it—and that green dot was you. You were smacked right in the middle of it, and from the consistent blinking, it was telling them you were alive.

He had given orders to throw you out there in hopes to help the war effort. Cecil knew you wouldn’t help willingly even with Earth on the line, so he strapped you with a technological advanced electric dog collar with a tracker embedded into it.

With evil variants of Invincible causing havoc and destruction all over the world, every resource that Cecil had was getting stretched thin. He needed more manpower to pour into this war, and he wasn’t against using an enhanced criminal to achieve that.

Cecil had seen multiple times you holding your own against their Invincible, hell, even had the upper hand a couple of times with how banged up you left the kid. It was an annoyance with how you had Mark be out of commission from time to time—thankfully his healing factors from his Viltrumite heritage really sped up the recovery process.

Whatever reason why you chose to injure him than kill him wasn’t something Cecil was going to do gymnastics to understand. He was thankful you didn’t, but he didn’t necessarily care to dig up the reason why. There were more pressing matters at the time.

Donald, however, theorized. He had a running speculation that you enjoyed breaking things and destroying anything you got your hands on rather than killing. There have been times where you did, but they were so rare it’s been assumed to be more of a ‘last resort’ thing for you when cornered.

Still, Cecil didn’t care. You were still another destructive piece of shit that had their own agenda that caused him to have a headache at the end of the day. The headache he gets from you just isn’t as big as other incidents—like the deaths of the Guardians of the Globe, the betrayal of Nolan, Viltrumites, and every fucking thing that threatened the safety of Earth.

But, having collected data about you, he was confident that you could at least remove one or two of the evil variants of Invincible when push came to shove. The ‘shove’ being a shock collar and threat of never seeing daylight.

Cecil wasn’t that horrible though; he had something in mind for you when all of this was over.

Shorten your time in the G.D.A slammer and then after that’s up—you get to be moved to somewhere better. Still contained, but just overall better. He calculated the chances of you being alive to experience that though, and they were pretty low. You’d probably be dead before the war was over.

And he assumed he was right at the first glance of the screen. You were surrounded by four variants, and while you were one tough cookie, you should be dead. There was one of you and four of them, it was a no brainer to see who would lose. But the blinking green dot showed you were still alive.

“It... seems like they’re not fighting her, sir. She’s been more of the aggressor so far, actually.” Donald observed, having been watching the screen this entire time. He pushed his glasses up. “She was fighting this one,” he pointed at the red dot on the screen, “then this one showed up—then these two.” His finger drifted to the other circles.

“Pull up the cameras around there.” Cecil ordered, and Donald’s fingers were quick on the keyboard to pull up the surveillance around the area.

A window appeared on the screen, and the lens were cracked so that view wasn’t the best. However, it was clear to see that you were surprisingly not beaten up and battered as he had expected.

The two men watched you leap into the air, bolting through the sky. An alternate Mark dressed in a white Viltrumite uniform followed suit, the two of you become a blur in the distance.

A Mark variant dressed in a similar fashion as Omni-Man turned to speak to the others. Whatever he was saying made the others more upset than they already were. The one with the black mask shaking his head in disagreement while the one with the mohawk rolled his eyes.

“Is there no audio on this thing?"

"Nope."

“Great.” Cecil popped his cracked lips; his grainy voice filled with sarcasm. He silently observed the three variants—and it was plainly obvious that they did not like each other. Their body language was tense, ready to pounce if one of them moved the wrong way. Yet, they continued their conversation.

Whatever they were talking about kept them grounded enough to talk even with their clear distaste for each other.

He squinted at the screen. The men would occasionally glance over at the direction you had sped off to.

Donald spoke up. "I think they're discussing (Y/N)."

"Who?"

Donald repeated your name, adding your last name as well while looking over at Cecil. “It’s Vandal’s real name.” he added. Vandal had become your nickname since you never proclaimed a villain identity for yourself. [1]

From the heaps of destruction and damage you caused to property before your capture, it was a fitting name. Albeit a little lazy and too on the nose.

The old man let out a tired sigh, turning around to step away. His mind was turning gears at this new piece of information and development. Strangely enough, his mind drifted to Mark who was currently still at Eve’s bedside.

He paused for a moment as something formulated in his mind.

What he was thinking of was an... admittedly strange idea, but his gut was scratching at him to try it out. It couldn’t hurt to give it a shot, and Cecil would do whatever it takes to put an end to all of this as quickly as possible.

Mark Grayson always held this odd, favoritism-like air towards you. It was hard not to notice with how he practically jumped at the chance to be the first one to respond to a scene that had remotely anything to do with you. Even went as far as butting head with other superheroes that tried to respond first.

The weird behavior was subtle to anyone who wasn’t paying attention, but Cecil noticed. He didn’t comment on it, but he definitely made mental notes on a few things.

Whatever harm that he would inflict on you would conveniently be placed where it wouldn’t hurt too badly, as well as heal up much faster.

You always somehow end up escaping from his grasp after each fight. It was excusable in the beginning with how he was wrapping his head around being a superhero—but with his progression and improvement, you still somehow ran off.

He seemed happier and chipper after fighting you, like instead of the loss of the fight hindering his mood—it uplifted He would walk, talk, and act like he had just won one million bucks.

When, on the occasion someone had to fight you instead of him because of various reasons, Mark’s mood was sullied. He would be miserable upon learning this fact, sulking like someone had taken his designated spot in class.

There were times when someone—that someone being Rex—would make fun of you. He had turned you into the butt of a joke during training and missions with Invincible, and Mark, without fail, came to your defense. Always too quick and too protective.

And much more.

The biggest thing on the iceberg, though, was when you were finally captured thanks to the intervention of the G.D.A. The agent had done their job, and Mark threw quite the fit.

“I had it all under control!” He yelled, speeding straight to man he knew had the main role of your capture. He glared at Cecil with so much anger and rage, possessiveness seeing into the words he spat.

Cecil was momentarily taken aback with how worked up Mark was over your capture. “You guys didn’t have to step in! Especially—Especially like that!” 

Cecil sighed impatiently. “Talking to them, throwing a couple of punches here and there, and letting them escape each time is not you having it ‘under control,’ Mark. He rebutted. “They needed to be caught and contained, and you were doing a lousy job at that.”

"I was gonna-"

He cut in, not letting Mark get a word in. It was clear that his words weren’t getting through the boy, so he continued. “If I had let this ridiculous method of yours play out, they would’ve continued to destroy more property. That means more tax dollars are being poured into rebuilding the constant messes they leave behind, and more important projects being underfunded.”

Cecil continued his lecture, stern and logic backing up his words. “That money is better off spent on better things, not Little ‘ol Vandalism. With how things been going lately, we need each dollar financing something useful.” [2]

What he said made perfect sense—but the logic and common sense only seemed to add fuel to Mark’s insatiable anger. Mark exploded into an emotionally charged rant that was incoherent and didn’t make sense at all, reaching for straws to defend himself.

Cecil paused before releasing an exhausted sigh. He flickered his gaze away from Mark and to a nearby wall. He was at a loss on why the young Viltrumite was still worked up over this.

He needed to calm him down. Having Mark upset would get in the way of calling him for help and he needed his cooperation to get things done, deal with issues, and protect this planet. Cecil flickered back to Mark.

“Okay, okay—I get it.” Cecil interrupted, raising his hand to stop Mark from his rant. “Kid, they’ll be in jail whether or not you like it. They’ll be locked up—but fed, clothed, and away from being a menace.” He halted before continuing, taking in how Mark seemed calmer on the fact you would be fed and clothed rather than your destructive habits being put to a stop.

“You can... even visit.” He said lightly, treading carefully.

“... I can?”

He was a little bit too happy to hear that, his anger completely evaporated.

“Sure. Not something that usually happens but—after we deal with all the big stuff happening out there first, I’ll authorize how many visits you want.”

Cecil turned to face Donald, “I’m going to pay a visit to Mark. I’m sure he’d love to hear what’s going on out there—especially with his favorite vandalizer.” Donald stared, not understanding what telling Mark about this would achieve.

Without elaborating, he teleported with a flash of blue.

You took another look behind you again, the wind rushing past you—howling in your ear as you met the intense stare of the evil variant in white. His hair moved wildly against the wind, his eyes hard.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer!” You shouted. He was unresponsive to your words, his eyes unblinking even though the wind must’ve been drying out his eyes. You rolled your eyes, but his silent demeanor caused a burst of goosebumps on your skin.

Even though you would love to continue being in the air for longer, if you did that it was evident that he would catch up to you. With each small glance, he was inching closer and closer—and there a number of things that would go against your favor if this white Invincible got ahold of you in the air.

You looked up ahead, scanning what was in front of you. There was a large building that was abandoned, surprisingly not demolished.

The path you are on currently would make you slam your head against a solid wall. Shifting to the right, you brought your arms to your head as you braced for impact.

The glass window immediately shattered as you rammed through it, different sizes of glass shards falling. You dodged the walls of the office floor, breaking through windows and passing by cubicles.

You broke out of the other side of the building, sunlight hitting your back as you pushed yourself to float above the building. Not a minute later, the building vibrated widely as the sound of walls breaking sounded in the air.

You let out an amused huff. He continued the original flight path you were on and busted through the walls.

The white variant broke through the final wall, leaving a gaping hole on the side of the building. He looked right and left, searching for where you had ran off to.

"Up here!" You sang out, diving down with your hands raised and joined together to make a ball. You brought it down, sending him flying downwards.

The Invincible's reflex was incredible, his arms quickly rising to protect his head before being slammed to the ground.

The harsh impact made a big crater on the ground, with him in the middle. The abandoned cars near the crash site began blaring like crazy, the headlights flashing.

"You're strong." He flatly commented, his eyes returning to looking at you while the dust settled. His unblinking eyes were really creepy—like that of a doll. His face was smooth and untouched too, just like that of a meticulously crafted doll.

Mohawk had laugh and smile lines that were prominent and bold, however, with this Invincible he didn’t have any—not even a wrinkle. It was like he didn’t use expressions—or even knew what they were.

His arms vaguely tingled at your attack. He hummed, somewhat impressed. A crack of a smile appeared, but you had to squint to really see it. "You were never strong in my dimension."

“Does that burst your bubble, Whitey?” You fake whined, copying the lean of his head. "Disappointed? I didn’t come as advertised?”

“I’m not disappointed.” He shook his head. “How could I be disappointed at you? You were perfect. Perfect for me, perfect for Viltrum. You're still perfect, no matter the differences across dimensions." He replied, hovering to close the distance between you two.

There was a deep-rooted longing in his eyes. The same desperation.

You gritted your teeth. You did not like where this was going at all. You hated it. In fact, the way he spoke to you as if he were the version he knew personally rubbed you the wrong way.

It seemed to be a running trend among the Invincibles so far, and it was already becoming insufferable.

“I’ve missed you, my life partner.” He breathily began, “The spot I carved out for you remains empty since the day I lost you.” His eyes morphed into one of a battered dog without its owner. “You miss me too.”

Fantastic, this one likes to run his mouth during battle too.

"Is that a question or a command?" You frowned. "I'm not them. Do you hear yourself?"

"You are them."

"I'm not.”

“You are.” He stubbornly insisted.

“No! I’m not! I'm going to put that through that thick skull of yours." You dashed towards him, your hand grabbing a hold of the top of his head as you slammed it down—the back of his head hitting the cracked concrete of the crater.

You dug your nails inside his scalp, lifting it and smashing it back down repeatedly. The hole deepening as you continued.

Viltrumite Mark allowed this to happen, his head being slammed against the pavement over and over again. Your fingernails were prickly from being bit at as it dug inside his scalp

There was a dulling pain at the back of his head, but he didn’t care to listen. The only thing he could focus on was how incredibly long it has been since the last time he felt your touch. How long ago has it been since you committed suicide? How many long, grievous nights did he go without you?

It has been so long that he had lost count. Actually, he was unsure if he was counting in the first place. Probably not—because then it put in perspective how long it’s been since your death.

The light, throbbing pain didn’t mean anything to him with the sensation of your hand holding his scalp. It brought him back to those blissful times when he would come back from dealing with the responsibilities of the Viltrum Empire with you welcoming him with open arms.

Oh, how he loved laying his head on your stomach while you massaged his head—running your delicate fingers through his hair as you asked all sorts of questions.

Usually about what he did, Viltrum, and what was happening outside the walls of the home you two shared. Mark didn’t like to think about the outside world when he was inside the haven of the bedroom, but indulging in your curiosity was always cute. It made you happy, and how could he deny giving simple joy to his partner?

You were also eager, albeit more than he liked, to learn any updates about Earth. Even if it was something minor, you always liked hearing about the planet you once lived on. Sometimes you'd ask if you could ‘finally go out’ and be somewhere else on Viltrum beside the house, even hinting the idea of going to go visit Earth—to at least see it—but Mark always shot it down.

He guessed he understood in some capacity why you would ask repeatedly. It was natural for any species to think about home and long to go back to it. Though, that doesn't mean Mark didn't find it ridiculous—you shouldn't want to go back to Earth. Even for a visit.

Viltrum is your home now and a much better suited place for you because he was here. This place was where you belonged because this was where you two could be together.

Mark would've granted permission for you to walk around Viltrum alone, but when you had first arrived at this planet—you had such antsy feet. You would run off, trying to escape from the planet.

It was always a hassle to bring you back. You could've gotten into danger and if he hadn't been alerted each time you ran off and arrived at the nick of time. You could've hurt yourself. Worse, you could’ve actually succeeded.

Sometimes you came too close in leaving, and that scared him.

You cried, you begged, and you pleaded whenever you were caught. Those incessant beseeches only amplified when he had to deliver the consequences of your attempts of escaping—but he did it in mind of your human physiology. Spraining your ankle, first-degree burns to the skin, twisting an arm or a leg until it contused... things that healed in a week or two. [3]

He knew you didn’t have the healing factors or durability as a Viltrumite, so he went easy on you, but that didn’t mean you were exempt from the consequences.

It hurt to see you like that. He couldn’t bear for those situations to happen again, so he had momentarily removed those privileges.

He was going to give them back, he swore he would've at one point. However, he hadn't noticed so much time had passed. For Mark, it was a blip—so short. While for you it had been long, excruciating years. You couldn't take it anymore; Mark's monopolization was suffocating.

So, one day when Mark arrived back home after a conquest, your lifeless boy awaited him. Pale, empty, and unresponsive—but free. Free from him.

For what happened, Viltrum Mark will let you hurt him this time for being such a neglectful husband. Being pummeled was what he deserved for being forgetful—it was only right.

You let go of your hold of the white variant's head, snatching a hold of his arm and standing up. You lifted him off the ground, chucking him at the loud line of cars.

During the process you twisted his arm, causing him to wince as he felt his bone dislocate before colliding with the line of blaring vehicles.

The obnoxious honks stopped, and you huffed as you straightened your back.

You sneered in disgust as you realized a small smear of blood made its way to stain your fingers, being quick to wipe it on your clothes.

However, in the blink of an eye, a white flash appeared before you. Arms wrapped around your torso, and you were shoved into a wall.

As soon as your back hit the wall, you gasped, the wind knocked out of you. You felt the Invincible nestle his face to your stomach, his arms tightening around you.

You shrieked.

Even though there was a clothing barrier between your bare skin and his face thanks to the prison uniform the G.D.A had you worn, it was thin. This act was clearly intimate, and you flushed in anger.

His sudden clinginess to your stomach made you puke out curses—this fucker was taking an opportunity to feel you.

“Get off of me you bastard!” You demanded, using your elbow to dig inside his back, striking down rapidly.

His grip loosened with each hit but would recover as quickly as it unfastened. With how hard you were hitting, it was a guarantee there would be multiple splotches of bruises stretched along his back, the muscles soon to have developing colors of purple.

You repositioned your elbow that was nearest to his twisted shoulder, slamming it.

A grunt howled from the variant’s throat, his arms untangling from your waist. He fell to the ground, on his knees as he hurriedly grabbed his shoulder—popping the dislocated shoulder back in place.

He picked himself up, swiping at your shin. Caught off guard, you wobbled and the viltrumite didn't waste time to place your leg on his shoulder—the one that he had corrected the displacement of the bone—and leaned forward to you.

Being off balanced and your leg being pushed up with your back against the cracked wall, you slid down. His height towered over you as you were in a compromising position. You hissed, your hands reaching behind you to grip the wall.

"That was enough to atone for my neglectful actions. Your death alone already served as punishment for how blind I was towards our time." He spoke, staring down at you.

A small line of blood traveled from his scalp to the back of his neck. "I'll be a much better husband for you, I swear to it, (Y/N)." the Invincible exhaled, turning his head to your leg that was lifted to his shoulder.

Even though his voice was monotonous, there was a scratch of pleading behind his voice. He said it in hopes you’ll believe him, and in turn that he would believe himself that he would actually become better towards you. Not repeating his mistake that got you taken away from him.

It wasn't hard to piece together that whatever happened to his version of you, you had died, and he played a role in it.

He exhaled; his lips parted slightly as they were just centimeters away from your leg.

“You can’t be a better one if they’re dead.”

“Don’t say that.” He snapped, pushing your leg further up, making you suck in a breath. “You’re right here. Even if you don’t remember me that doesn't mean you can't be lawfully wedded to me once again.” His grip was firm as his hand snaked up to your knee.

His hand squeezed, feeling the muscles and bone. "I'll take you back home. Back to Viltrum. Back with me. Everything we had will be back once again."

You tense, the mention of being kidnapped to somewhere else cause your fight or flight response to yell bloody murder. The fully masked Invincible had mentioned something about bringing you 'home’ too, and now this one was spitting out the same threatening garbage.

Something nagged at you that this would be a pattern among the other copies—and everything within you warned you not to let any of them take you. You were most likely better off dead than with any of them.

“I would rather fucking die than be like them and go anywhere with you.” You spat; venom laced with each word. "Whatever way they went was probably a blessing in disguise." You taunted, watching him twitch.

Clenching your jaw, you wheeled your head forward and then banged it behind you. The building shook, cracks branching out from the point of origin. You used the back of your head to hit it once more, pooling all your strength together.

The thick wall crumbled, and no longer being shoved against a wall you wrapped the leg that was on his shoulder around his neck and your other leg around his torso, seizing his whole body and throwing him over you.

The viltrumite burst through the multitude of walls, making the building unstable. Sounds of the building cracking and falling apart filled the air, the structure collapsing.

You scrambled to run, the building collapsing in your direction. Though your foot slipped on a piece of debris, causing you to trip onto the ground. Shit.

Whoosh!

The office building collapsed, and you hesitantly blinked your eyes open. You looked down at the collapsed structure. It once stood tall and mighty but now it was closer to the ground more than ever.

Your legs dangled in the air, and your eyes traveled to your chest as there was an arm that was slung underneath them—holding you loosely.

"Ha! Now that was a funny sight to watch. You really got some sweet upgrades to you—fun." A chilling voice commented, pointing out the superhuman strength you possessed. A dangerous edge was in his words, and you straightened your back to look at the source.

You whipped your head around, an Invincible with a black and yellow suit grinning wildly at you.

With the black and yellow palette, it gave off a warning sign—and his demeanor gave just that. He was a warning, something you should be aware of and run away from.

The sinister-looking Invincible leaned in to focus deeply at your eyes, using his exceptional hearing to focus on your heart that was beating furiously.

He can hear the panic and the fear melting in.

He memorized the way your heart beats its unique rhythm, pumping blood through your system. It was a window that he used often to decipher how you really felt at any given moment, listening to the living organ that was like music to his ears.

He hated how he missed something so simple. He hated it even more with how he recognized it from miles away, his ears subconsciously trained itself to zone in on that wretchedly beautiful heart of yours.

It was like a melody that drew him out—his own personal trap with you inside it.

It nauseated him how quickly he froze at the first beat—then came speeding at the second knowing full well it was you.

This dimension's version of you, anyway.

"Another one?" You snarled, not happy to see another variant.

This dimension’s copy of you was feisty, just like his—outspoken, mean, and nasty. However more powerful considering you did some damage to Viltrum Mark, having been watching from afar. Though he didn’t pay attention to that guy, focused and swooped up on the fact he was on cloud nine with how he was able to hold you like this again.

He let out a deranged laugh, throwing his head back. "Ha! Ha-ha! I forgot how much better you felt with your flesh still intact." He laughed, rearing his head back to shove his face to your cheek. "Soft, squishy—so much more different compared to your skeleton."

... Skeleton?

"Jesus, I went insane after I killed you, you know?" He took a large inhale, the memories of the temper tantrum he made after accidentally going too rough on you—breaking you—resurfacing.

Everyone and everything were not safe from his rampage; the rampage fueled with the rage of accidentally killing you. “I bet you had fun watching that, huh? Torturing me by being so weak and dying.” He yapped, out of his mind as he continued.

"I kept your body, watched the stages of your corpse bloat then decay—leaving the dry remains of your skeleton behind." He spoke of it with a smile on his face, but you felt the hand that was wrapped around you flinch, tightening.

"It wasn't as fun when you were alive, but it was still you, so I made do." He vaguely referenced, and your skin crawled at what he could possibly be implying. All sorts of things popped in your head.

You had an inkling that whatever your brain conjured up may have been tamer than whatever this... thing did to his alternate version of you—dead or alive.

"I don’t have to know more to know you're a sick fuck."

"-And I made you like it." He hissed, his hot breath hitting your skin. He tilted his head away, his eyes wandering to the electric collar around your neck. Sinister recognized the craftmanship—Cecil throwing you in this war and forcing you to work for him meant you were tough.

Mark was excited to see how exactly tough you were. If you’re stronger that meant you could endure him, right? "And I can do it again. Just this time, you won't be so easy to break.”

Cecil sighed as his eyes fell on Mark Grayson. The boy was still near Eve’s bedside, not having moved a single inch since the last time he saw him. Both of his hands were cupped onto Eve's that lay motionless on the bed.

"What do you want, Cecil?" His tired voice called out, not having to turn to know that the old man was behind him. "I told you I wasn't working with you ever again."

"I heard that loud and clear, Mark." Cecil nodded, "I figured you weren't against updates, though."

The young man merely stayed silent, his whole-body language screaming that he didn't want to hear him speak anymore.

Cecil grimaced, biting the inside of his cheek. The idea he had seemed like it wasn't going to work, only made up with a few clues then and there, but he was already here so it would be a waste not to try it.

"There's a lot happening out there. It's difficult to keep up with everything."

Mark stayed silent, unresponsive as his eyes were staring only at the injured red head.

Cecil carried on, "I had to come up with creative solutions to the issues of not having resources, people—superheroes to go out there and protect the world."

Mark stayed unmoving, not reacting an inch.

"Do you remember the criminal you ‘helped’ capture? Vandal?—"

"It's (Y/N)." Grayson jolted, turning to look at Cecil with stern eyes. His hands were still on Eve's, though he noted the small pull away. Mark repeated your name again, making sure to glare at him.

"... That's interesting. I didn't find out until today that was their actual name." The older man was quick to point out, raising a brow. "How did you know that? Didn't care to share with the rest of the class?"

Mark hesitated, his eyes flickering away from Cecil. "They told me it the first time we fought. Must've slipped my mind." He vaguely dismissed, clearing his throat.

He had accidentally crossed your path when he first started out his career as Invincible. He was still getting a hang on things, training to be a great hero just like his dad.

It took him a little bit too long to register that you were a bad guy—a criminal that he should've jumped to stop as soon as his eyes laid on the path of destruction you caused without care of who you hurt.

Then it took him even longer to move from his spot with how strangely enamored he was with you. Mark was overcome by this sudden rush of attraction that he had subconsciously held his breath.

If it weren't for his viltrumite make up, he would've passed out with how much oxygen he deprived his lungs.

Did criminals usually have this effect on heroes? Fascinated, interested, curious, enamored? (Mark later found out that no, villains did not have this effect on heroes—for whatever reason, it was only you).

Once he finally snapped out of it, he was quick to try and stop you. Though with how inexperienced he was with fighting and your brawniness, you won. Beaten to a pulp, his body was sore and tired as he lay on the ground, groaning from the punches.

"Ah—shit." A whine escaped his throat. Was being a superhero going to be this painful all the time?

You crouched down to his level, eyeing his costume that hugged his body. "It isn't a good idea to jump at a bitch wrecking the place while being a baby super." You commented, your eyes filled with pity.

You didn't take amusement in practically beating up an infant. His reactions were delayed, he didn’t know what to do when you did this or that—it was embarrassingly obvious he was new. "Downright idiotic." You muttered. They just let anyone play hero, huh?

"Idiotic and Invincible shares the same letter," he coughed, shifting to look at you. A sharp pain jolted up his spine. "Ah, that hurts!—So, uh, I guess they go hand in hand." He let out a nervous smile, giddiness budding at the pit of his stomach as he wiped off the blood that had dried out his upper lip.

It's wrong to feel so... so excitedly nervous about how close you were. Sure okay, you got close so you could punch and throw him around while you two fought—but right now Mark had the time to take you in fully.

You snorted, a giggle jumping out your lips. You weren't expecting him to crack a joke like that while he was beaten to a pulp and wow—that giggle of yours was beautiful. That made his heart dance and his stomach sick with how many butterflies there were.

You quickly covered your laughter, rubbing a hand over your mouth. "Invincible is a stupid name. You don’t even live up to it with—fucking, y’know." You gestured to the tip of head to the ends of his feet.

"What's yours? We can compare."

"… I got the name Vandal, it's a stupid name too." You shrugged, pushing yourself to stand.

He tried to sit up, though shots of pain riddled him to fall. He didn't want you to leave so quickly—not out of fear you would go back to destroying stuff but out of fear he may not ever see you again.

"Is there another name I can call you? I-I mean, I would like the person who beat me up to at least like their name." Mark stuttered out, a strained smile on his face.

You eyed him, raising a brow. Unimpressed at his lame reasoning. "What kind of reason is that?"

"Uh, I—well you know, erm—" His cheeks flushed a baby pink.

You sighed, finding yourself pitying the new hero more. Did no one teach him anything? "Fine." You’ll humor this. Giving you his name wouldn't hurt, besides even if he told others, it wasn't enough to track you down. “It’s (Y/N).”

"Hm. Okay. Moving on." Cecil hummed, not convinced. “I had her be taken out of her cell. She's out on the field."

Now that got a response out of Mark. He let go of Eve's hand, his body moving in the blink of an eye as he appeared in front of Cecil. It caught the older man by surprise, taking a hurried step back.

“What do you mean out in the field? They shouldn’t be out there. They’re supposed to be in a prison cell. They’re supposed to be safe. I remember you saying that word for word!”

“That was after this shitshow started. Prior arrangements had to be moved around and changed.” He defended himself, narrowing his eyes at how quickly he was to mad when you were handled in a manner he disagreed with.

This pattern of possessiveness he had over a criminal was wrong.

Cecil had chosen to ignore this, chalking it up to some petty rivalry over the fact you had beaten him a couple of times—but now it was clear as day that it was definitely way more than that.

Just how much more was what Cecil was curious about. He needed to see exactly what you meant to him and if he could use that for his own gain. “If they can handle fighting against you, then hell, they can certainly handle themselves against one of those variants. I needed all the manpower I can get, and they were the perfect option.”

“That still gave you no right!” He screamed.

“It does when the guy who can go head to toe with those invaders out there won’t leave this goddamn room.” Cecil retorted.

“So—So what?! They can die, Cecil.” He huffed, his fists clenching at the idea you were out there in harm’s way.

“Why does that matter so much to you, Mark? What exactly are they to you for you to be worked over this? I don’t have to be omnipotent to know they don’t give a damn about you—not a single thought. Yet you’re here caring for them as if you’re their friend.” He paused, “Are you?”

Mark hitched breath, a lump in his throat as he brought his hands to hold onto his face.

He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you, and he knew that he shouldn’t be thinking about you as much as he should, but he couldn’t stop. His mind always wandered.

Day and night without fail at some point his thoughts would be consumed by you, someone he barely knew anything about—someone that he shouldn’t be thinking of.

Mark tried to stay away from you—at least that’s what he told himself to make him feel better. He always jumped at the chance to get to you whenever you were back on your rampaging antics. Other heroes noticed, offering to take his place instead but he sternly refused.

He was territorial about being the one to stop you, being the one to fight you, being the one to be with you.

Mark told himself that he thought about you so frequently because of that pitiful ‘kindness’ you showed him at your guys’ first encounter.

From that, you must’ve been much better at being a reformed criminal than a bad guy who took joy in seeing wreckage.

So, he tried to convince you to change your ways.

That’s what a superhero does, right? Not just help distressed citizens but everyone, even criminals. He offered to help you lead a better life than the one you had right now, guide you on how to use your powers for good rather than bad.

He also offered you companionship, friendship—a chance to have a deeper relationship than the close to nothing relationship you two currently had.

He was hurt every time you rejected him. Not hurt from the fact you rejected turning a new leaf but hurt that you rejected his friendship. Fine, you turned down being a good guy, whatever, but why turn him down?

Couldn’t you see that Mark ran to you each time? Couldn’t you see that he had got stronger, faster, better, each time you fought just to impress you? Couldn’t you see that he craved to know you more, the one who he knew nothing about yet haunted him every day?

The bruises that you left on his body were the only thing you gave him that held a part of you—and he would stare at them in the mirror as he traced over them remembering the fists he came to memorize.

The bruises were the only thing you didn’t reject to give, and he hoped they never faded so he can carry the ghost of your touch on his body. It was ridiculous how distraught he’d become when he noticed the purple fading, disappointed when his regular color came back.

Mark Grayson tried to drop it—drop you. He was driving himself crazy over a stranger that wanted nothing to do with him. He tried tearing himself away from the idea of you, but he came back running whenever he heard you were out there.

Why couldn’t he have you? No. Why couldn’t you have him?

Cecil voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “Well, Mark, are you?”

“No, we’re not friends.” He responded, his torn voice muffled by his hands.

“Then what is it? What is it ‘cause with how I’m seeing things no one should be caring so much about a stranger as you are right now.” Cecil bombarded, continuing to pile more questions on him relentlessly, pushing the boy’s buttons.

The half-viltrumite ran his hands to his hair, his fingers intertwining with his black locks as he let out an exhausted, fed-up groan. Why was Cecil asking this? Why was he asking this like he knew the answer? God, he wished he knew the fucking answer.

“Mark, say something. Say something Mark. For the love of God, fucking say something—”

“No! No, I don’t know them at all, I don’t mean anything to them! I’m not their friend. I’m nothing.” He snapped, his voice raised and shouting, his mouth running wild.  “That doesn’t mean that I don’t want them safe! That doesn’t mean I don’t care about them! That doesn’t mean I don’t want them.”

A tense silence fell on the room; the sound of machines next to Eve’s bed beeping.

“... So that’s it. You’re whipped.” Cecil finally broke the silence, scoffing in utter disbelief at what he had just discovered.

“What twisted fascination do you have with them? A criminal who never gave you the light of day, yet you hold this… ” His face contorted, looking away from Mark. “I don’t even know what to call this. Sick? Twisted? Pathetic?”

“… You have no right to berate me or even fucking shame me with your track record.” Mark whispered, “So, shut up. Just shut up.”

“Can’t do that because I’m not done talking.” He side eyed, “Your little crush is being jumped by multiple variants. Last I checked, they ran—but got a suspicion it won’t be easy for them to run away.”

Cecil felt himself slammed to the wall, the white collar of his shirt being tightly gripped. “What? Why didn’t you lead with that!”

“Sorry, kid, didn’t think you’d get your panties in a twist over lawbreakers.” He grunted, staring into Mark’s brown eyes.

“Just tell me where they are.”

“Thinking of joining the fight now? Don’t want to stay here by Eve anymore? All I had to do was dangle something you can never have in front of your face to finally leave this room?”

Mark raised a fist and hit the wall behind the man he pinned. “Just tell me where (Y/N) is.”

Cecil dug his hand into his suit pocket, pushing an earpiece to his chest which Mark quickly caught. “Plug that in and Donald will tell you.” He stated. The grip Mark had on his collar loosened, pushing him aside as he went to grab his mask from the end of the bed.

He took a look at Eve before tearing his eyes away.

As always, he comes running when he hears you’re out there.

"I am having a blast," This sinister version of Invincible smirked, his breathing heavy as he had you pinned to the ground. You made him work up quite a sweat, and he was getting quite thirsty. "You're so new, so fun, so entertaining, so enticing. I'm working up a fucking appetite. Been forever since that happened."

It felt like it has been ages since you were stuck fighting for your life against this man, but it has been only a couple of minutes.

Your face distorted in disgust. A hand of his was holding your two legs together so that you couldn't kick him away even though you were desperately trying to squirm your legs away from his tight grasp.

"Eat shit." You cursed, collecting the saliva that accumulated in your mouth and spitting it to his face—the wad of spit hitting the corner of his lips.

His smile faltered, before grinning again as he cooed at you. "That bitch of a mouth of yours needs work, though." Sinister Invincible parted his lips, his tongue licking the side of his face, collecting the saliva you had thrown at him and swallowing.

"You gross sick fu—hhmp! " Your voice quickly got muffled as he had snaked his gloved fingers inside your mouth with his free hand, the taste of rubber filling your taste buds as you thrashed under his hold. You used your hands to scratch and slap his face, though that seemed to only amuse him further.

His fingers moved to feel your teeth, your tongue that tried to escape the taste of his gloves, and the soft as well as hard palate. You yelled muffled profanities, biting down on his fingers.

Your canine fangs broke through the rubber material of the glove, and he let out a small—was that a fucking moan?—sound as that only served to give him more reason to push his fingers deeper down your mouth. His fingertips scooted to the entrance of your throat, making you choke.

"Bite down harder, cunt." He demanded, and you instinctively listened.

Your teeth pressed down on his skin, the bite breaking it as a metallic taste seeped into your taste buds joining the taste of the rubber gloves.

"Ouggh my god." Sinister Mark moaned; the pain brought by your fangs serving to be pleasurable. Thae hand he used to hold down both of your legs shifted over to one, squeezing hard against the muscles and into the bone. [1]

CRACK!

"HHMP!" Your scream gurgled into his glove, and you gagged soon after from his fingers hitting the back of your throat. The scratch and hits to his head were doing nothing to him, and you scowled as your eyes darted around to find any way to get out of this.

You noticed how your broken leg wasn't immediately healing, like how it should be, and your eyes widen as you remembered the collar the G.D.A had placed around your neck. You had forgotten about it, and you closed your eyes as you knew what to do.

Your hands reached eagerly to the shock collar, digging your fingers between the metal and your neck as you began to tear away at it.

It instantly began sending electricity through your body, riddling your body to the seizing and overwhelming pain that resembled the same sensation when you were hit with that gun during your capture. Your eyes opened, rolling to the back of your skull from the intensity.

You clenched your jaw as you continued to rip it from your neck, trying to keep your eyes open and not lose consciousness as the metal began to rip apart—the wires being revealed.

Whatever was sending the electricity was no longer contained to just your body, zapping in the air and reaching to the black and yellow Invincible that was on top of you.

The electrifying pain met him too, and he yanked his digits out of your mouth as the bolts traveled up to him.

You felt his weight lift off as you ripped the collar in two, gasping for air and rolling to your side.

Your body twitched, there was still electricity coursing through your body—and you felt an intense wave of exhaustion flood you.

No, I can't pass out, I need to get out of here. No, no—

You tried to resist, though black spots were already filling your vision as shapes and colors became a blur. Even then, you tried to crawl to distance yourself from the Invincible.

A sudden tight grip to your hair pulled you toward his direction.

"You disobedient bitch. Who told you to do that?" You heard a growl, the pull of your hair making you whine.

Your hair was suddenly released, feeling a strong gust of wind behind you as Sinister Mark’s voice was thrown off to the distance. You didn’t care to look back, trying to squint to see what was ahead of you.

Your  vision became increasingly blurry and you gagged from having his hand shoved down your throat a few seconds ago. You tried to sit up but failed, your head feeling heavy as it hit the ground.

You internally screamed to stay awake, but darkness hugged you.

Before that however, you felt someone crouch next to you, a hand draped over your forehead as they said something to you. Whatever they said, you couldn’t tell, and you just prayed they were more of a friend than a foe another crazy Invincible.

[togeppy]

the waiting game ;

tsukishima kei x reader

reader is childhood friends with tsukki, and has an ongoing bit where she'll ask him out periodically. she's grown used to him saying no, and doesn't expect it when he actually says yes.

You would easily consider Tsukishima Kei your closest friend. You grew up on the same street, went to the same schools, and were in the same class on multiple occasions, so your frequent proximity had forced the two of you to become very familiar with one another. Though he had a personality that others may find sour, knowing him for so long meant that you had seen every version of him, and knew that there was more to him than the reputation that he had gained. Sure, he was arrogant and standoffish a vast majority of the time, but you knew that he was also kind and considerate towards those he cared about. 

You didn't think that it was possible to gain feelings for a friend so close to you, but over the years you couldn't help but find yourself growing more and more intrigued with the idea of being in a relationship with your best friend. You cherished the friendship that the two of you had, but you couldn't help but wish that it could blossom into something more. Even as a child, you knew you wanted to make a move, but were held back by the fear that he would take it negatively, and you would lose a friend that meant the world to you. Sure, you both had other friends outside of each other, but a life without Tsukishima Kei by your side was not something you wanted to risk. 

The first time you asked him out was a joke to test the waters. The situation had been perfectly laid out for you, so you figured you might as well give it an attempt. 

At twelve years old, you, Tsukki, and your deskmates sat chatting about how White Day was approaching, with some members of the conversation more enthusiastic than others. One boy excitedly announced that he had started dating another girl in the class, and was planning on surprising her with candy on the special day. One by one, each of the boys rattled off who they wanted to give a present on the holiday, while the girls helped pitch ideas on how they could make their surprises even better. 

"Who are you getting a present for, Tsukishima?" a voice sounded next to you, a bright eyed girl addressing the one member of the circle who had not made a contribution. 

Tsukki stared blankly at her, before shaking his head, "No one, I don't have a girlfriend." 

The boy seated next to him accusingly pointed a finger in his direction. "There's gotta be someone you want to get a gift for. It's White Day, this is your chance to get one!" 

Your best friend scoffed, folding his arms in defiance. "It's a made up holiday, and a girlfriend right now would be a waste of time and money. Why would I buy chocolates for someone I don't have any interest in?" 

Sounds of protest came from everyone sitting at the table. Upon hearing his thoughts, you supposed that should have been a clear enough answer to whether or not he had an interest in anyone, but you couldn't help but think that he was only staying quiet because you were present at the table. While somewhat disappointed, you knew that this was your chance to prod him further and get a more concrete answer.

"Date me, I'm your best friend and I'll gladly take the chocolates," you half-joked, trying to play it off as cool as a twelve year old possibly could.

Your answer came quickly, not in the form of an answer, but in the ease of him brushing you off, not even considering the possibility that you could genuinely mean what you had just said. 

"I'm not getting anything for anyone, find someone else to buy your chocolates." 

Following that conversation, it had been a whole year before you took another chance at proposing the idea of a relationship, fearing that you would be shot down once again. It was a similar situation; the environment had given you the chance to casually slide the idea into the conversation, and you couldn't give up the opportunity. 

You and now-thirteen-year-old Tsukishima Kei stood in a convenience store on your way home from school, picking out snacks after you had spent a long day with your clubs at school. You were in the art club and had to take home a painting that you had done on a disproportionately large canvas. As you decided you wanted a barbecue pork bun, Tsukki picked yours up on your behalf, seeing as your hands were fully occupied with your artwork. Standing at the till, he gave the payment to the store owner, an elderly man with a strong gaze, and took the bag that was handed to him in return. 

"Young man, why don't you give the food to your girlfriend and carry that massive painting for her instead?" the elderly man chimed as the two of you began to pull away from the counter. 

Both your eyes widened, and you could see that the taller boy's cheeks had gone slightly red at being criticized by the man before you, along with the realization that you had been incorrectly identified as his girlfriend. He opened his mouth in protest, but the store owner gave him a pointed look, forcing him to place the bag back on the counter and take the painting from your arms. A large grin broke out on your face as you picked up the buns and gave the man a toothy smile while the two of you gave him a small bow before exiting the store. 

"That's more like it," you heard the owner's voice carry from behind you as the doors to exit the store chimed while you walked into the evening air. 

The second you were out of earshot of the man, you broke out into laughter, immediately turning to the boy who had turned an even deeper shade of red. 

"Hear that Kei? Carry the massive painting for your girlfriend," you mocked, taking your bun out of the bag and taking a bite, ensuring to make a grand show of the amount of freedom your arms had in that moment. 

"Tsk," was the only response heard from the boy as he turned his face away from you to try and hide the red that was slowly disappearing from his cheeks. 

"I say we should start dating so that you can become my personal artwork carrier," you quipped as you skipped ahead of him along your path. 

"Never going to happen," his voice sounded from behind you, unamused. 

"Go out with me!" you called back, continuing to skip ahead of him. 

"No." 

That incident had begun the joke that ran between the two of you. You would ask him out, and he would respond with some form of deadpan denial. Your friends had grown accustomed to it, expecting you to make the joke from time to time. On the days you spent with both Tsukishima and Yamaguchi, the shorter boy would even occasionally play along. 

"What in the world is that poster for?" you asked one day, noting an obnoxiously coloured poster stuck to a pole near the corner where you and Tsukishima split off from Yamaguchi on your paths home. 

"A couples dancing competition," the green haired boy read off with a laugh. 

"I wonder what the turnout would be, based on how ugly that poster is," your best friend commented, leaning forward to get a better look at the image before the three of you. 

"The two of you should sign up," Yamaguchi responded jokingly, matching the smile that was growing across your face, "It would be a sight." 

"You're so right, both of our incredibly above average dancing skills would blow the competition away," you joked, "the only thing we're missing is being an actual couple." 

"I'm not going out with you." 

"It was worth a shot." 

As you grew older, the two of you continued to remain best friends. You had shared sentiments over schoolwork, had jokes shared between each other, and you knew the ins-and-outs of each others' lives. You were closer than ever, but the fact that you two had only grown closer meant that it hurt even more that the two of you wouldn't be anything more than friends. As far as you were concerned, he only thought of you as a cherished friend, and all the times you had asked him out were nothing more than a gimmick resulting from a comfort level obtained from your level of friendship. You loved having him as a friend, but as you grew older and more mature, your feelings grew with you, and your childhood crush developed into infatuation with the boy living down the street. 

When high school came around, you both joined Karasuno together, acknowledging that it made sense for you to attend the same school once again. After the incident when you were thirteen, he had formed a habit of helping you carry your larger paintings on the walk home, and in turn you feigned some interest in the volleyball club, hearing what he and Yamaguchi had to say about their matches. 

When the boys volleyball team qualified for the finals of their tournament, you joined your school in supporting your two friends as they faced the top school in the prefecture. You were one of many loud voices cheering the boys on, though you liked to believe that amongst them all, you were cheering the loudest. When Tsukishima made the first block against the opposing ace, you felt a burning pride to see the boy you liked finally begin to show some emotion on the court, your excitement visible from the stands. 

Though you didn't understand the game well, it had you on your toes; everything that took place was crucial to the boys' success in the game. So encapsulated by the gameplay, and cheering on the series of blocks that Tsukki had done only moments before, you were confused when murmurs started to pass through the crowd and the players began to crowd around the tall blonde. It took a few seconds for you to realize that he was injured and was gripping his hand while the others spoke to him. Concerned, you left your spot amongst your classmates and approached his brother, who had a matching look of concern etched upon his face. 

"Akiteru, did you see what happened? Is Kei injured?" you questioned, standing next to the older Tsukishima brother. 

"I hope not," he muttered back, eyes carefully watching what was going on below. 

You both watched intently as your friend wrapped a towel around his hand and began to walk towards the gymnasium exit.

"C'mon, let's go see what happened," he stated, as you both left the stands along with the first-year Karasuno manager to go meet his younger brother. Walking down the steps you could feel the anxious energy radiating off of all of you, and you tried to shake it off so that the injured boy would not sense it too. The three of you met him outside the doors of the gym. 

"Kei, are you okay?" you asked, somewhat redundantly; of course he wasn't 'okay' if he was leaving the game because of an injury. 

"I'm fine," he quipped back, trying to act more nonchalant than you could tell he felt inside. You observed your friend as he had a back and forth with his brother over his physical state. He commented on how it was nice to rest after all the sets- you could tell that there was some truth to the statement, but you could also see that he had finally found his groove, and really wanted to be back in the game. As he began to walk away, you could see the frustration emanating from his stance, and you and his brother decided to follow him and the older manager to the infirmary.

You ran up to catch him, and walked alongside Tsukki, Kiyoko and Akiteru. You walked in silence, knowing that the middle blocker was busy ruminating on the events of the game, and could only think of getting back on the court, despite his efforts to pretend otherwise. As the four of you arrived at the infirmary, you sat beside him and the two others stood near the door behind you while the nurse took a look at his hand. You could tell that he was scared that the nurse would announce his hand was too severely injured and he would have to sit out the remainder of the match. 

To try and ease some of the nerves that he would be feeling, you grabbed his non-injured hand and gave it a small squeeze. 

"I'm sure it's fine and you'll be back soon," you whispered so that only he could clearly hear, "and once you get back, you'll win the game and go to nationals." 

You gave him a small encouraging smile, finally meeting his eyes, and for a few moments the boy did nothing but stare back at you. 

After a short pause he finally responded with a nod, "I hope so," before dropping his eyes as the nurse analyzed and dressed his wounds. The remainder of the visit, you four sat in silence, the volleyball player evidently deep in thought over what he would do when he returned to the match, however his eyes occasionally fluttered away, as if something were distracting him.

Soon, his finger had been wrapped and immobilized, and the nurse announced that he would be allowed to return to the game. The four of you sprung up, and began jogging back to the gym, Tsukki slightly out-pacing the rest of you. You and Akiteru stood by the doors as the other two ran to the coach to explain his condition and request that he be put back in the game. You and the other Tsukishima brother ran back up to the stands to watch upon seeing him take a seat on the bench, the substitution card in his hand. 

You watched as the remainder of the match unfolded, Tsukki back on the floor, knowing that he was still in pain though he tried to hide it. You didn't think it was possible, but you were even more captivated by the game in front of you, every movement drawing you closer and closer to the edge of your seat, more and more in awe of your best friend’s tenacity. When the final point was scored and Karasuno were announced as the winners, you jumped out of your seat, cheers and hollers all around you as your entire section cheered on the victory of your school's team. 

The victory party had begun, with Karasuno staff and students overjoyed alike, excitement filling the air. The team bowed to your cheering section, and you let out more cheers to your two friends before you. You first made eye contact with Yamaguchi, who had found you in the crowd sooner and you gave him a smile and a thumbs up to show your congratulations. Noticing his teammate's line of vision, your best friend found you as well and you beamed even more, changing your thumbs up into a heart that you made with both your hands. You could almost hear the half-laugh, half-scoff that came from the boy as he immediately turned away from your antics. You couldn't help but laugh as well when you turned away from your seat and started to join the crowd that had begun to trickle out of the stands. 

When everyone had finished mingling in the lobby, you excused yourself from your other friends to go greet the volleyball players who were dispersed outside the gym. You easily spotted the blond head of hair that stood taller and slightly apart from his teammates, the green-haired boy nowhere in sight. 

You decided that the best course of action to get his attention was to launch yourself at his back. So you did, and he let out a yelp as he caught you behind him, a small exasperated laugh being let out. You let go of him and gave him a proper hug, but from the front, despite his protests. 

"What did I say, go back soon, win the game, go to nationals," you said matter-of-factly, pointing a joking finger in his face once you had finally freed him of the hug, "I think I can see the future."

"I mean we were already so close to winning, the prediction was right in your face," the boy responded sassily, obviously trying to get back at your outrageous remark. 

"I don't know, I think I have a gift," you continued joking, "I'll show up to all of the nationals games and start predicting who's going to win, just you wait and see." 

"There are too many games going on, you'd never go to them all," the boy responded, trying to shut down your new aspirations. 

"No, I'll do it, just you wait and see. I'll go to all of yours too, up until you win it all." 

"You'd look like a stalker, the crazy fan of Karasuno who won't leave us alone." 

"Hmm... no," you responded back, "The best course of action is for us to start dating because then I would no longer be a crazed fan and instead a loyal girlfriend there to support my boyfriend." 

"Mhm okay." 

"And then if anyone asks I could just say that I... wait did you just say okay?" 

You had continued on your rambling, so focused on the dumb situation that you had thought up, that you had completely failed to notice the boy's response, or the way that he had been looking at you since the moment you had met him outside the gym. 

He now stood, smiling smugly at you, and you realized that while you had been going on and on, he had been looking down at you, a newfound admiration on his face. You couldn't say when exactly the change had been made, but you realized now that he was looking at you in a way that he had never once before, and you began to feel the butterflies in your stomach. 

"I did say okay," he stated plainly, placing a hand on the top of your head, making light of the fact that he towered over you. 

You were speechless and could do nothing but stare back at him in confusion. 

"After all this time, did you want me to say no again?" he asked, when almost a whole minute passed without a response from you. 

"NO, no not at all," you said finally, accepting that he wasn't just messing with you and actually meant it, "it just caught me off guard." 

The boy removed his hand from your head and smiled once again, less smug this time. 

"Okay, so now I'm expecting you to show up to all our games at nationals and be the supportive girlfriend cheering me on constantly." 

"Girlfriend already?" you retorted, once again taking his non-injured hand in yours, the difference being that now he held it as well, the feelings no longer one sided, "What happened to taking a girl out on a few dates before claiming that title?" 

"Did you really ask me out all those times just to not even want to be called my girlfriend?" he asked back, eyes narrowing in disbelief at the comment that you just made. 

"Nevermind, girlfriend it is." 

Bonus:

A week had passed since the volleyball team had won the game against Shiratorizawa. The boys had been busy following the win, so you finally had a moment to treat both your friends to a congratulatory dinner. The three of you walked in the direction of the restaurant on a Sunday, with you standing in between your two friends. You passed a hideous poster, identical to the one that the three of you had previously joked about. 

"Now that we've mastered volleyball, I think it's time for you two to take up dancing seriously," Yamaguchi smiled, recalling the previous joke that you had made over the poster. 

"I wholeheartedly agree," you said back, "this time we even meet the couple criteria." 

Yamaguchi stopped walking, turning to look at the two of you. You innocently looped your arm into Tsukki's, though your boyfriend stood still, no reaction evident on his face or through his body language. 

A few seconds passed before Yamaguchi unfroze and continued walking, a smile now plastered on his face. 

"Congratulations," was all he said at first, before he finished his train of thought, "but it was really about time." 

[fairy-angel222]

I’m gonna regret posting this but 😭

Venom! Toji who smirks when he and Venom first share you. The symbiote’s deep voice ringing through the room when he asks, “Think she can take us both?”

“Of course she can, my girl’s greedy enough.”

Fucking into you while the symbiote’s tongue slithers in alongside his cock. Both of them finding a steady pace to pound you deep. The roughness of Toji’s cock on your g spot accompanied by Venom’s slimy tongue kissing your cervix sweetly.

Venom! Toji letting you ride his face, no, Venom’s face when you’re needy. Grinding your hips atop of the long tongue which hit all your spots perfectly. Your head falling back in a loud cry when he starts moving it against your walls, feeling yourself being brought closer and closer to orgasm.

Venom! Toji who has the symbiote extend multiple tentacle like arms to attack each part of your body. Your arms being bound above your head as two of them swirl independently around your sensitive nipples, another one circling your clit as Toji fucks into you meanly.

Venom! Toji who wakes you up to Venom’s fat tongue licking long stripes up your slit. Lapping sloppily between your folds as his tongue covered your entire pussy. Easily allowing it to taste all of you at once.

Venom! Toji who teams up with the symbiote to tease you in public. Allowing Venom to extend a long unnoticeable arm under the restaurant table to slip under your skirt. Smirking widely at your lack of underwear. He flicks at your clit, swirling before dipping into your aching pussy. Finding a continuous pattern of rubbing you to the edge only to pull away after. Enjoying the tears that pooled in your eyes at the torture.

Venom! Toji who sometimes plays good cop bad cop with you. When he and the symbiote aren’t both degrading you or praising you. It’s him doing the sweet talk while Venom does the dirty. Each of them at one of your ears driving your mind foggy as they pound into you.

Venom! Toji who never leaves you without pleasure. Even when you’re sucking his cock, he has Venom kissing sweetly at your sopping pussy. Licking messily as your constantly flowing slick while groaning at the sweet taste.

Venom! Toji who eats you out so much that Venom had first begged him for a taste of you. And when he got it, he was addicted. Always wanting to latch onto your pussy at any given chance. It was one of the things he craved. And the first time he made you cum, he was determined to do it again and again. Finding pride in how messy he made you just from his tongue.

Venom! Toji who allows Venom to take care of you when he’s busy doing work. Sat at his computer while you’re next to him with your panties stuffed past your lips. Muffled mewls and whimpers filling the room as the long tongue curls into you.

[sluttyminghao]

♡ ︎title: off-limits, on his tongue ♡ ︎pairing: boo seungkwan x afab!reader ♡ ︎genre: smut, fluff ♡ ︎word count: 3.5k ♡ ︎au: brothers best friend ♡ ︎smut warnings: praise kink, dirty talk, oral sex (f. receiving), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, soft dom seungkwan, possessiveness, almost getting caught ♡ ︎1/13 in the Thirteen Temptations Series ♡ ︎ a/n: I really hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it! big thanks to @supi-wupi and @chanranghaeys for beta-ing, and all the feedback!

It wasn’t often you came to visit your brother, mainly because he lived over an hour away. Still, work had graciously given you a week’s leave after spearheading a huge project that succeeded, and you figured you could spend that time near the beach, forgetting everything existed. Because of the short notice, you weren’t able to find any suitable accommodation last minute, so he graciously offered up his guest bedroom, reminding you that he had three other roommates and to just keep out of their way.

The only person you knew in that house besides your brother was Seungkwan. He was a very soft-spoken, well-mannered man whom you had known for several years and got along great with. He was someone you occasionally hung out with outside of your brother, and with every interaction, every hug goodbye, you felt your heart swell. Everything about him was perfect. It was a shame that your brother would be appalled if you confessed to having feelings for him.

As you had grown older, you sometimes noticed Seungkwan staring at you a little too long, his gaze lingering on your exposed legs whenever you wore a bikini on a beach outing, and even once when you were changing and he’d accidentally walked into your room. You could see his cheeks grow red as he stumbled out an apology before turning on his heel quickly and removing himself from the awkward situation. You had to admit, you didn’t mind the staring, and sometimes you even provoked it.

However, when you moved away to college, you saw much less of him. You grew distant, aside from the occasional like or comment on a social media post. It was a long run, between pulling all-nighters for assignments and doing group projects with no effort from your team members, but eventually, you graduated with high honours and found yourself a good job closer to home.

As you pulled into his driveway and turned off your car, you could feel your pulse quicken. There was so much unspoken tension between you and Seungkwan that you wondered if there would be a chance for anything to happen while you were here. You pushed the thought away and grabbed your bags from the back seat before making your way up the steep driveway.

“Oh look, the pest has arrived.” Your brother's ragged voice makes you groan as you flip him off, with him reciprocating the gesture before pulling you into a hug and shutting the door behind you.

You met his roommates after toeing your shoes off at the front door: Joshua, who provided a friendly smile and wave from his perch on the couch. Chan, who offered you slightly burnt chocolate chip cookies with a sheepish smile, and Seungkwan, who offered up a smirk and slight wave that had your heart skip a beat. His gaze dropped to your body, dragging slowly over it like he had done all those years ago, making you flush. He’d dyed his hair darker since the last time you’d seen him, and you have to say, it made him look a hundred times hotter.

After some general small talk with the roommates and your brother, you glanced at the digital clock on the wall near the television, noting it was after 11 pm, the red numbers glaring at you. You realised how late it was and excused yourself to the guest room with a yawn, before trudging up the stairs to the guest room Chan had pointed out earlier. It surprised you with its neatness when you entered, given that four men were living in the house. The bed was already turned out for you, with a blue towel draped over the edge of the end of the bed and a lamp that lit up the room warmly. The best part was that you had your own bathroom, so you didn't have to share with the boys. Win-win.

The warm shower loosened your muscles. As you slipped into an old tank top and pyjama shorts from five years ago, you felt any tension slip from your body. Sliding under the covers, you hoped that the power of sleep would wash over you so you could be rested for your presentation in the morning.

It never came.

You tossed and turned, eyes not even willing to stay shut for more than five minutes. Even listening to and watching your favourite ASMR videos wasn't helping. Surely Seungkwan wasn’t the reason you were unable to sleep, it couldn't be. You had hardly seen him in the last few years. But, you couldn't stop thinking about the way Seungkwan had bore his eyes into you the moment you walked into the house, his eyes burning with something you couldn't quite place, but with the way his gaze dragged slowly over your body, you figured it was his hormones at play.

You sighed in defeat and removed your body from its warm cocoon, blindly making your way to the kitchen that still smelled faintly of burnt cookies. It was a wonder they hadn't burned the place down.

The hallway is dimly lit when you creep into the kitchen for some iced water, the soft hum of the fridge filling the calm silence within the household. You didn’t expect to find him already there, leaning against the counter in a loose hoodie, legs hardly covered by his sleep shorts, and his hair sticking out in all directions from what you presume was a deep sleep.

Seungkwan looks up from his phone, his eyes tracing you lazily. “Can’t sleep either?”

His voice, laced with sleep, deep and slightly crackly, hits a nerve deep inside you that has you pressing your thighs together to try and stop the rush of heat to your core. You hated how much he affected you.

You nod, your heartbeat already skipping due to the conversation. You hadn’t seen much of him this trip, but whenever you had, he’d looked at you just a little too long, and almost too slow. It was nearly like he was trying not to think dirty things about you, and losing that battle every single time.

“I thought you were avoiding me,” you murmur, half joking, setting your glass down.

He smirks and steps closer to you. His voice is lower than it was before, almost feeling like velvet-wrapped sin that has your breath hitching in your throat and your pulse quickening. “I was. Didn’t seem to work too well though.”

You try to laugh it off, hoping that his sentence means what you think it does, but your breath catches when his fingers brush lightly against your arm, goosebumps rising in the wake of his touch, which didn't go unnoticed by him. 

“You shouldn’t be out here dressed like that,” he says, eyes flicking down to your flimsy tank top and short shorts, a mischievous grin spreading across his smug features. “Do you know what you do to me?”

Your silence betrays your answer.

He steps forward into your space, crowding you against the wall. “Tell me to stop,” he whispers.

You don’t dare say a word, not when he’s this close to you.

He exhales shakily—you aren't sure if it’s out of nervousness or adrenaline coursing through his veins. His hand slowly slides up your waist, almost like he’s taking his time, while the other braces itself beside your head. “I’ve wanted to hold you since the second you walked into this house.”

His mouth hovers by your ear.  “But I’m a gentleman… so I’m gonna ask you as nicely as possible before the lust clouds my brain entirely.” 

You gulp and close your eyes as you feel his warm breath beside your ear, your mind obscuring with want as he whispers what you had desperately wanted to hear since you had arrived.  “Can I put my hands on you, baby?”

You nod fervently, almost too quickly. He clicks his tongue, a smirk toying on his lips once again.

“Use your words, baby.”

“…Yes.”

And then he devours you.

His mouth is hot and skilled, he’s kissing you like he’s waited years just for this to happen. His hands roam your skin gently at first, then progress rather fast to needy, then straight to possessive. He lifts you onto the counter with a low grunt, parting your trembling legs with practised ease.

“You’re shaking,” he murmurs, kneeling in front of you, eyes peeking up at you through his soft, dark locks. “That for me?”

He kisses up your inner thigh, his teeth grazing sinfully along your skin, his smile wicked and almost daring. “I haven’t even started yet, sweetheart.”

You quiver when he skillfully pulls your shorts and panties to the side, his tongue sliding out to wet his lips as the hunger grows in his eyes. He doesn't say anything, but he does dart his eyes back to yours, his pupils completely blown with the lust consuming every inch of his body. It was almost like a silent consent between the both of you, as he moves himself forward to attach his tongue to your cunt like it was his lifeline.

As his tongue finds you, his voice never leaves you, almost like a mantra that he’s repeating and will never get tired of.  “That’s it, baby, just like that.”

“God, you taste so sweet.”

“Don’t hide your voice, I wanna hear every sound I pull out of you, even if that means waking up the rest of this house.”

You’re panting and writhing under his wicked tongue, your knuckles turning a dangerous shade of white as you grip the counter like it’ll save you from unravelling. When your back arches and when you cry out his name, he moans into you like it’s his reward. He spends a good amount of time afterwards sucking and licking your sensitive skin and bud, stretching you to a point where your trembles continue despite already orgasming.

Through it all, as you ride out your high, he presses soft kisses to your thighs and whispers:

“You’re never staying in the guest room again.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

He doesn’t let you walk. Instead, he carries you princess-style with ease, his plush lips ghosting against your cheek as he whispers, “No way I’m letting you wobble around the house after the way you fell apart on my tongue.”

His room is quiet and cool, neat in that almost perfectionist way that had you questioning if men were as messy as you thought. He gently places you on the bed as if you were made of glass. Despite his gentle gestures, your body was still buzzing with the memory of how roughly he had made you cum no more than ten minutes ago.

“I need you to tell me,” he murmurs, leaning down so that he’s kneeling between your thighs again. “Is this just for tonight… or do I get to have you for real?”

You breathe, your words coming out shakier than you had expected them to, “Yours. I’ve always been yours.”

And he loses it.

His hoodie is off and tossed onto the floor mere seconds after you give him the green light, revealing his toned arms and a chest you knew was hiding under all that fluff and charm. His kisses now? They’re messy and hungry, and the possessive edge returning as it had earlier, like he's been starved for weeks and you're the first tantalising, addictive bite of sin.

“You have absolutely no idea,” he growls against your throat, teeth grazing your sensitive flesh, “how many times I’ve imagined this body spread out on my bed, how many times I’ve jerked off to the thought of you, how often I’ve fucked my hand to get myself over the edge thinking I was inside of you.”

His hands explore your body like he’s learning by feel: a firm but sensual grip on your hips, a teasing drag of fingers over your overly sensitive breasts, nipples pebbling at the cool touch of his flesh against yours. He takes his time removing your clothes, watching how your body reacts and worshipping every inch of you, even the parts you were insecure about.

When you whimper, your thighs rubbing together for some sort of friction, he chuckles.

“You want my fingers?” he coos, sliding two up your inner thigh, seeming like a challenge, but one you weren’t going to argue with. “You’re dripping, angel. You don’t have to beg for anything, but I do like it when you do.”

You whisper his name, afraid that if you speak any louder, you’ll wake up his roommates or, even worse, your brother.

“Louder.”

“Please, Seungkwan, I need you to touch me.”

“There she is,” he murmurs, lips curving as his fingers slide into you with sinful ease. “You’re so damn tight. So good for me.”

And it only gets hotter from there.

He talks you through every single movement he makes, his voice equally as warm as it was filthy, it makes your eyes roll back so far you think you almost see your brain.

“That’s it, ride my fingers, baby.” “God, look at how you clench around me when I say your name, fuck.” “You wanna cum again? Right here, on my hand? Say it.”

When you do finally cum on his fingers, your body trembling and whimpers passing over your swollen lips, he guides you through your orgasm with a breathless, filthy sweetness that could almost make you cum again from the sultry tone alone:

“Good girl. Just like that. Let it all go, I’ve got you.”

And he doesn’t stop.

You’re gasping and whining when he finally rises above you, his toned frame over your own and his perfect cock pressed to your entrance, throbbing with want. His voice softens once again; it’s still dark and still dripping with desire, but now it’s laced with something just a touch more vulnerable than it had been.

“I don’t just wanna fuck you,” he says, brushing a strand of hair from your face, the action alone making your heart race and your cheeks burn. “I want to make you feel like no one else ever has.”

He slides himself in slowly, inch by deliciously eye-watering inch, all whilst watching every single twitch of your lips, and every stutter of breath. He groans onto your lips, low and ragged, and only further coiling the rope of heat that had settled deep into your abdomen.

“You fit me so fucking perfectly. Like this was meant to happen.”

He rocks his hips rhythmically into you, deep and steady, while he holds eye contact as he whispers pure sin to you, as if you were the only two left in the universe:

“You take me so well. Every time you squeeze around me, I wanna lose it.” “You’re mine now, right? All mine?” “I don’t care if your brother or the others here find out. Let them. Let the whole house hear who’s making you scream.”

You pull him down into a passionate kiss, and the rhythm of his movements shifts into one that’s more desperate and wet, both of your bodies slick and writhing together in harmony, your moans tangled in kisses, skin slapping obscenely against skin.

In a bold move, he pulls your leg over his waist, hitting deeper inside you than you thought was even possible. You whine at the sudden stretch, almost like you were feeling him inside your cervix. He smirks, knowing he’s got you exactly where he wants you now.

“There it is. That’s the sound I needed to hear from you, angel.”

You cum again without any warning, white flashing across your eyes and your body arching up so high that your chest hits his, your nails digging into his back, likely leaving crescent-shaped marks that would remain for days. He grits his teeth and moans as he refrains from cumming inside you, breathing through his nose to help slow his orgasm down so you could bask in your orgasm glow. 

He felt the way you squeezed around him like a vice, and he knew he couldn't hold back anymore, your body making him succumb within only a few moments. With a grunt, he pulls himself out of you just as he starts to cum, painting your abdomen and thighs with his load, his hips stuttering while he pants your name like a prayer. He collapses beside you, pulling you to his chest and kissing your temple like he didn’t just ruin you completely.

After lying in comfortable silence for a while, he gets up and goes to the other side of his room and comes back with a towel and water bottle. He cleans you up with the surprisingly warm towel, kisses every inch he potentially bruised, looking at some of the marks with concern etched deep into his features. You’re tucked under his arm, wrapped in his scent, the room still humming with leftover heat.

“You okay?” he whispers.

You nod, smiling against his skin. “Better than okay.”

He laughs softly. “Good. Because this isn’t just a one-night thing. Not after that.”

You look up. “No?”

He kisses you again, slower this time, more controlled and fuelled with adoration.

“No, baby. That was the first time I claimed you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You wake up to the warm sunlight filtering through the curtains, the clean smell of laundry detergent and soft skin, and the soft, rhythmic thudding of Seungkwan’s heartbeat beneath your cheek.

He’s still half-asleep, hair messy and lips parted as he takes in slow, deep breaths. His arms are locked tightly around your waist, almost like you might disappear if he lets go. When you shift slightly in his grip, trying to slip out of his comfortable bed, his grip tightens on your waist instantly.

“Mmm-mm,” he groans, voice raspy and low, sending a shiver down your spine. “Not yet. If you leave this bed, I’ll just drag you back.”

You laugh at his possessiveness so early in the morning, quietly and fondly. “You’re clingy in the morning.”

“I just claimed you last night,” he whines into your neck. “Do you think I’m going to be letting you go this soon?”

He rolls over, pulling you with him, so now you’re straddling his hips, your body bare beneath his oversized hoodie, which he must’ve pulled over you sometime in the night. He grins up at you, eyes still half-lidded, laced with adoration, with possibly a hint of heat.

“You look good in my clothes. Kinda makes me want to take them off you again.”

You try to climb off him, or pretend to just to get a reaction from him, but he immediately grabs your hips with both hands, holding you still. His thumbs stroke slow circles into your thighs, emanating a warmth you hadn't realised was there.

“Stay right there,” he says, voice dripping with lust-laced venom. “I want my morning treat.”

You raise an eyebrow, perplexed and intrigued by his bold moves. “Are you always like this when you wake up?”

“No,” he says simply. “Just with you.”

He pulls you a little further forward so that you’re now sitting more on his chest, your body heating up even more with the slight friction of the pull, and also with the way he’s staring at you, like he’s trying to claim you again. He leans up as far as his body will allow, his mouth trailing up your inner thigh before pausing.

“...Unless, you’d rather I start with a kiss up here first?” he teases, his eyes flicking to your lips. “I could behave.”

You grin, licking your lips and letting a hand fall through his messy strands. “I don’t want you to behave.”

He hums. “Good girl.”

Before you realise it, you’ve been flipped again, your back pressing into the warm spot of the bed where Seungkwan had lain just seconds earlier. His hands are caging your head, and the smirk on his lips has only grown, seeing you in this vulnerable position. Just as he starts to slide down the bed, there’s a knock at the bedroom door. Then a voice.

“Hey, you guys seen my charger? I—wait.”

You freeze. It’s your brother.

“Why is your door locked, Seungkwan? What are you hiding in there?”

You scramble off him like you’ve just been lit on fire, cheeks flaming, trying to tug the oversized hoodie lower over your body in hopes of covering yourself, but failing miserably.

Seungkwan, still lying bare and smug on the bed, calls out without missing a beat: “I’m busy! Try again in an hour!”

You mouth “an hour?!” at him, and he just winks. When the footsteps finally leave, he sits up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist again, lips brushing your neck.

“You should just stay in my bed the rest of the weekend.”

You turn to him, heart thudding. “And after that?”

He leans in closer, voice soft but sure. “After that… you’re mine. For good.”

[jarofstyles]

flower + jealous and relief. I love all of your writing, thank you for all you do!!

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Y/N shouldn’t be jealous. Ever, really, and she knew that.

Harry had never given her any indication that he would ever have a straying eye. He was borderline obsessed with her, the admission coming from his mouth multiple times a week, treated her like the sun and moon both revolved around her, but that didn’t stop the uneasy feeling she felt when he watched Bonnie laugh a little too hard at something he said.

She was an old friend of his. A family friend, at this family cookout that they’d been invited to. Y/N had been quickly introduced to her and she had felt it since then. There was a way women knew. It’s an intuition, really, knowing someone was into your man. And Bonnie had it written all over her.

Harry was slightly oblivious and Y/N knew that. He was quietly friendly with the people here- they were his family, for fucks sake! But that didn’t mean he liked this not-actually-family-but-longtime-friend placing her hand on his bicep as she giggled and batted her lashes at him.

Y/N was helping his mum in the kitchen, trying her best to do what a hopeful future daughter in law would do, but it was hard to concentrate when she had a direct view outside of the both of them. Harry had been dragged into a conversation with her and as much as Y/N didn’t love the idea of leaving him alone with her, she was secure enough to know that Harry wouldn’t do anything, let alone flirt back. She could tell just by the look on his face that he wasn’t.

When Harry was flirting, she knew it. And she’d only ever seen that face be directed towards her.

“Thank you for helping me.” His mum grinned, wiping her hands on her apron. “I won’t keep you. Come back in a little bit if you’d like to help slicing these up but I want you to go out and get a drink, please. Make yourself at home.”

It wasn’t the first time she had met Harry’s family and his mum seemed to like her but she wanted to keep that going. “Of course.” She chirped. “I never mind helping. Yell for me if you need me and I’ll come running, okay?”

His mum laughed loudly before playfully pushing her out towards the patio. Secretly she had wondered if she had seen her distraction and wanted her to go out and self soothe, but she wouldn’t know.

Jealousy wasn’t an emotion she felt a lot but she felt it now. It wasn’t one she liked either. Usually she could get over women simply looking at him or grinning at him, even if they hit on him before she would arrive because there was always the chance they didn’t know he was taken- but Bonnie did. She knew good and well that Harry was taken and she didn’t like that she was touching him so much.

Selfishly, unrealistically, she wanted to be the only one that got to touch him. She had asked her therapist if that was toxic and she’d said slightly but she reassured her that it was human nature. It wasn’t like she stopped it from happening, but the desire was still there.

She made her way towards the pair with her head high and schooled features- because in no way was she going to give the girl satisfaction in knowing that even for a moment she’d been insecure- but it seemed her boyfriend knew what she needed.

“There she is.” He grinned, stepping away from Bonnie to gather her into his arms and smack a kiss to her forehead. “Did mum hold you hostage or somethin’?”

“No.” She relaxed into his body as he made no move to let go of her. “She was lovely as always. I was helping her with the last of the pies. It wasn’t any trouble.”

“Mmmm… She wants to steal you away because she said she wants you t’come over more. ‘Wants to know her future daughter’, all of that.” Harry let that go casually and a tiny (humongous) piece of her felt satisfaction seeing the lingering woman’s face fall at that.

Yes, it was sad for her that a man she liked wasn’t available. Harry was strong, stable, handsome, doting, absolutely fucking perfect. But… he was Y/N’s.

“Well I told her we’d come for dinner next week.” Resting her hand on his chest she played with the collar of his shirt. “So I’m giving into her antics. But when she cooks like that, I can’t really complain.” Harry’s mum was an incredible chef and she knew her own would never compare to it so… she was more than happy to eat yummy food and get to know his family better. “Besides. I do want to get to know my new family. Is that so wrong?” Was she pulling out all the stops, giving her the best doe eyes she could muster and laying it on a bit thick? Yes. And she was only a tiny bit ashamed.

“Fuckin’ love you, Y’know that?” It seemed as if as soon as Y/N had made it into his vicinity he forgot about anyone else. Bonnie still stood awkwardly close but his full focus was on her. Rude? Maybe to someone else, and she would have to be in charge of making sure she redirected… but for now? She was going with the flow.

“I love you more.” Pecking his cheek, she saw him pull back and look offended.

“Proper kiss. Please and thank you.” He muttered. “S’quite rude. Don’t deny me of what I need, thank you.”

Y/N really never had anything to worry about.

[mytheoristavenue]

Thinking about how Incel!Gytaro difers from your other boyfriends sexually.

I feel like once he's finally given a chance, he clings to the title of incel, even if he's no longer involuntarily celibate, and his mindset is changing. It's part of how he identifies himself and it'll take a long time of building his confidence to get him to stop self deprecating.

"Why would you wanna fuck me? I'm just a gross incel, girls down even touch me." While you are in fact, touching him. "Y-Yeah, cum all over this ugly mug," While you're riding his face, tugging his hair and helplessly grinding.

I also feel like getting to his early twenties without even a kiss or shred of attention has left him lacking two things when you finally do give him a chance. Tolerance for any kind of stimulation, and a refractory period. He has neither, and if he does, they're both incredibly low. This means he'll cum as soon as he starts to move inside you, but he doesn't really have to stop between orgasms. Despite his lifestyle, I think he's actually a bit of a gym rat, so he also has a good amount of stamina. He's going at it for hours and he's cumming multiple times, each load is going to be bigger than the last, already being larger than most guys you've been with.

"A-Ah, n-no, baby, be still- gonna! F-Fuck, I came again, I'm sorry..." While he's already cooling back down and putting it back in.

He's so inexperienced but he's so eager to learn. He has no idea how to kiss you, but once you show him how, he's all over it. He's a great listener, despite his stubbornness, obsessing over your every reaction and trying to figure out what he did to instigate it.

"Shit, what'd I do? This? You like it here? Like this? Ahh, that's it baby, you got it." While trying to decipher what he could have possibly done to pull such a pretty moan from your lips.

I think he's down to try anything at least once, especially after you get him away from that red pilled mindset. Pegging? Well, let's talk about it first. Taboo kinks? Send him links, he's so curious. The only thing I can see him really not being into is cucking, but he might come around if you letting him cuck someone else first.

"Fuck, you're into some weird shit..." While scrolling through your followed tags on Tumblr. " Well... shit, I'm down, let's go."

[jinmindeulle]

no more distance | lee chan

His arms were finally around you, holding you tight against his body. 

The tulip bouquet that he had gifted you was laying on the floor, waiting for you to pick it up. But you were too busy, one hand at the nape of his neck, the other gripping his black shirt.

When you felt a drop on the crook of your neck, you couldn’t help but close your eyes shut to let your own tears flow. 

“I can’t believe we’re finally together” Chan whispered, and hugged you even tighter, as if that was possible. 

“Me neither” you replied, losing your grip so you could look him in the eye for the first time in two years.

Because everything that you had built had never felt as real as that moment. You texted, yes, you called and FaceTimed multiple times a week, yes — hell, you even sextexted from time to time. But in real life, you had seen each other twice, and you had kissed only once: saying goodbye in the very same airport you were finally meeting again.

“It feels too surreal” he grinned, cupping your cheek and caressing it with his thumb, brushing away a few stray tears.

“And when I tell you this, it might sound even more delusional” 

Two years ago, you had been to South Korea just as a nice vacation on your own. It had been in your bucket list for a very long time, and once you were sure that your finances allowed it, you booked it — and with that click, you had also sealed your destiny.

Because three days before leaving the country, you had met the man who had stolen your heart in Seoul, and had taken it back to Iksan ever since. Lee Chan was seated next to you during the one and only concert you had intended to go to, and well… the rest is history.

“I have plans to move. I got a job in the Iksan branch of the company”

You were not expecting his answer to be a kiss. At first, he just pressed his lips against yours, a little shy. But when you smiled, he took it as his chance to capture your lips with his, hugging them, as if he intended to describe what his I love yous meant with the action. You eagerly accepted his advances and as you felt the need for air, you peppered his now swollen lips and cheeks with small kisses. 

“Don’t leave my side, ever again” 

And you had never wanted to. You had fought to get this job — to finally make the promise real. To spend the rest of your life kissing Lee Chan, in the country that had given you more than you had ever asked for. 

¸.·✩·.¸¸.·¯⍣✩ seventeen masterlist ✩⍣¯·.¸¸.·✩·.¸

[aewon]

the shift

jungwon x fem reader genre: smut MDNI!!!! wc: 3593 warnings: e2l kinda, ice hockey player jungwon (just mentioned), manager reader, mentioned other members, mentioned chaewon( she’s my go to clearly lol), jungwon’s just annoying to reader, virgin reader, dick sucking, pussy eating, multiple orgasms (2 each), fingering, flirty jungwon, cursing obv, if there’s anything else lmk

note: this is a rewrite of a fic that i had on @/wonkizz, it’s not great but it’s better than what i had og so :p the smut isn’t great but oh well also not proofread so

The university’s ice hockey team was golden, and it was all thanks to Yang Jungwon.

The team’s captain had spent long hours training to make sure the team was efficient in every category.

And now, their hard work paid off as they had landed a spot in nationals against one of the hardest teams to beat.

They’re not worried, they know the team is good, but they’re better.

Normally, you’d praise a team for being confident in their skills, but you think they’re just damn cocky.

It’s even worse considering the fact that Jungwon has taken an unknown liking to you, the team's manager.

Why are you their manager? Because you needed the credit for a class and it was the only thing available.

Back to Jungwon.

The guy is infuriating. He flirts with you constantly, teasing you and messing with you. It’s annoying and no matter how much you tell him to stop, he never does.

With the amount the two of you bicker back and forth, you’re surprised you haven’t been fired yet.

Now, in terms of nationals, it’s an away game, which means a trip to another state. As their manager, that means you have to go too.

You curse every being out there at the fact that you have to go, but what can you do?

It’s 6:00 am when you arrive at the meet up spot on campus. Coach Shin, the head (and only) coach, is already there with the small bus set up for you and the team to take.

The boys aren’t here yet, no surprise there. They always like to be late, for whatever god given reason they have.

“Those boys, I swear they give me a headache every single fucking day,” Coach Shin complains. You can only nod along with his sentiment, scrolling your phone with no real purpose.

6:15 rolls around and oh thank heavens! Here they come in Jay’s beat up car that he loves to call his baby regardless of its status.

Jungwon doesn’t waste a moment, coming to your side and wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “Did you sleep well, pretty?”

You push his side, trying and failing to get him off you.

“No, unfortunately I didn’t. But I’ll be taking the chance to catch up on my sleep on the bus.”

“Oh?” He inquires, “And what exactly made it not so good? Did something keep you up? Or…someone?”

You push him harder, scowling as he laughs at your face.

Although you finally managed to free yourself from him, the thought of being stuck on a bus with him for 6 hours does not please you.

Coach Shin gathers everyone on the bus, choosing to sit near the front while the boys sit in the back.

You put in your headphones, playing your music on low while the bus departs.

As you leave campus, and eventually your town, your eyes begin to flutter.

They eventually shut and you fall asleep.

When you awaken, your head isn’t resting on the window like it was when you left. Instead, it’s resting against something softer, something moving.

You open your eyes, looking up to see Jungwon’s face centimeters from yours.

You shoot up, realizing your head was resting on his shoulder.

“Sleep well?” He asks, scrolling through his phone like nothing.

“Why are you here?” You ask, trying to create space between your bodies but failing miserably.

“You looked lonely, so I decided to keep you company.”

“Well I wasn’t, if anything you interrupted me.”

Jungwon pouts mockingly, “That’s not very nice. I tried to be kind and this is how I’m repaid?”

“And how exactly do you want to be repaid?”

He takes the opportunity to slide his arm around your waist, squeezing your side, “I could think of one way.”

You grab his arm, gripping his wrist tightly and taking it off you, “As if!”

The whole team begins to laugh at your expense.

You sit there, planning on how to kill Jungwon in your head while he goes back to his original seat, smirking.

You look down at your phone, realizing 4 hours have passed. You sigh in relief, only 2 more hours to go.

Those 2 hours pass somewhat quickly, and you’re parking at your hotel before you know it.

As you get off the bus and gather your things, the sun shines down on you.

It’s blue skies and sunshine in this state, and you wish for nothing more than time to relax.

Coach Shin gathers you all in the hotel lobby, checking in and handing you room keys.

“Naturally you’re all paired with someone, except Y/N.”

“Don’t tell me she gets a room to herself,” Heeseung complains, making the others start to complain as well.

Coach Shin raises his hand, “Don’t start! Of course she has a room to herself, idiots!”

The boys grumble on their way up to the hotel floor.

You check into your room, throwing your bag on the small couch and sitting on the bed eagerly.

You pull out your phone, texting your friend Chaewon.

You: we just checked in :p

Chae 🐯: has jungwon annoyed you much?

You: of course he has but it’s whatever ig 🤥

Chae 🐯: yall gotta like…fuck it out or smth atp

You: EW no why would i do that

Chae 🐯: because the tension is crazy!!!

You: the tension is made up in your head 🙂‍↕️

Chae 🐯: WHATEVER what are you gonna do now

You: i think we’re getting lunch or smth and then idk

Chae 🐯: well keep me updated

You: yeah yeah 😑

You turn off your phone just as there’s a knock on your door.

Coach Shin stands there, “We’re headed to lunch, are you ready?”

You grab your purse with your hotel key, wallet and phone.

“Yes, let’s go!”

The boys are already waiting by the elevator for you, and you all cram inside and head downstairs to the dining hall.

Once seated, you order fettuccine with shrimp scampi while everyone else gets some sort of beef or chicken. They’re all protein freaks, always talking about getting in more of it everyday.

Lunch goes by with little to no conversation between you and any of the boys, no surprise there.

Although you do make conversation with Coach Shin about nationals and how the boys need to play if they want to win.

Not that it really interests you.

You couldn’t care less if they win or lose.

Everyone is given time off to do whatever they want once lunch is over.

You choose to head to the hotel pool to finally relax, and maybe even tan a little.

You put on your bathing suit, and head to the pool with the same purse you brought to lunch.

Surprisingly, there’s no one around.

You sit back on your towel and relax, letting yourself soak up the sun that beats down on you.

But of course, you can never have anything to yourself.

Within 15 minutes of your relaxation, you hear an agitating noise come from the entrance by the pool.

You look up and see the boys, all in their swimsuits, heading your way.

You groan, “Oh Jesus Christ! Can’t a woman get one fucking minute of peace!”

They all look at you, grinning mischievously. They know! They know damn well!

“You don’t own the pool,” Sunghoon says knowingly.

“No shit I don’t own the pool, but you knew I’d be down here to relax and now I can’t!”

“We’ll be quiet, swear,” Jake says, crossing his fingers over his heart.

You sigh, laying your head back down, trying to get back into your relaxation mode.

That was a damn lie.

Within 5, no! 4 minutes, they’re making noise. So much noise it could wake up the dead. Splashing, yelling, cursing, you name it they’re doing it!

Nobody else seems to be bothered because no one comes out to tell them to shut up, so it’s just you and them. Them, overjoyed and you, annoyed.

You want to bang your head against the nearest wall when you hear Jungwon’s voice call out to you, “How’d you know blue’s my favorite color?” He asks, referring to your bathing suit.

“I didn’t,” you respond. “I didn’t wear this for you!”

He puts his hands up in mock surrender, “If you say so. You should come in, the water feels great.”

You look down at the blue water, and back up at him repeatedly. “I’d rather not, it looks cold.”

“Oh come on,” he whines, “it’s not! See for yourself.” With that, he sends a big splash your way, dousing the bottom of your legs with water.

You curse at the cold temperature, Jungwon now laughing hysterically along with the other guys.

You get up before you know it, and send a big splash that douses the entirety of them in one sitting.

They all look at you in shock, Jungwon especially as if he isn’t the one who started it.

“No fair! I didn’t wanna get my hair wet,” Sunghoon complains.

“Well that’s too bad now isn’t it,” you retort, hands on your hips.

Before you can say anything further, Jungwon is out of the pool, lifting you up in his arms.

You didn’t realize how strong or broad he is.

As your hands find his shoulders to hold onto, you begin to panic, “What are you doing? Put me down!”

“Nope, now you’ve done it,” Jungwon says smiling, and then without another word he throws you into the pool.

You hit the water with a big splash, the boys all cheering as you’re now just as soaked as them.

You come up, looking at Jungwon in pure shock and somewhat horror.

“You…you’re so dead!”

Jungwon shrugs, “Guess I’m dead then.”

You spend the next half hour playing with the boys in the pool.

By the time you get back to your room, you’ve tired yourself out.

After showering and changing, you take a long nap.

Once you awaken, the clock next to you reads 7:00 pm.

You order dinner for yourself and eat while watching the latest show on Netflix.

By 7:30 you’ve finished your meal and are relaxing when there’s a knock at your door.

Jungwon stands there, freshly showered too.

“Hi,” he says, albeit somewhat awkwardly.

“Hey, do you need something?”

“I wanted to talk, if that’s alright?”

You step aside, letting him in, “Sure, what about?”

“Us,” he says.

You stand there confused as he sits on the edge of your bed.

“What about us?” You ask.

“I felt like there was a shift today, when we were having fun earlier. It felt…different. Having fun with you instead of arguing with you. It was nice.”

“I agree, it was nice Jungwon. I liked seeing that side of you that doesn’t constantly annoy me.”

You didn’t mean for it to come out so harsh, but it does.

But instead of looking hurt or offended, Jungwon just smirks, “But do you realize why I annoy you?”

You shake your head.

“It’s because I like you, stupid.”

You take a second to take in those words. I…like…you? He likes you?

“You mean like, romantically?”

“Yes Y/N, romantically.” He chuckles, sweeping his hair out of his eyes.

You stand there, not knowing what to do.

“Why…why do you like me?”

Jungwon seems caught off guard by that question.

He thinks for a minute before answering,

“I like how passionate you are with everything you do. Even with hockey, we know you don’t really like it but you still do your best as our manager regardless. I like your laugh and your smile, even when they’re not directed at me. I like how clumsy you are sometimes. I like how your tongue sticks out when you’re concentrating on something. I like everything about you, Y/N.”

You feel your heart beat faster as Jungwon speaks, taking in his words and his feelings with care and kindness rather than disgust or disdain.

“Jungwon, I didn’t know you really felt that way.”

“I don’t expect you to feel the same. I just wanted you to know. And I thought maybe, maybe we could try something. I could take you out? See how you feel about that?”

You don’t know what switch inside you went off, but the thought of a date with Jungwon, after today’s events, doesn’t seem so bad.

“I’d actually like that. I’d like that a lot.”

He perks up and it’s oh so cute.

You finally find the courage to sit next to him on the bed, brushing your hand against his.

He looks into your eyes, for any signs of discomfort.

When he doesn’t find any, he leans in, pressing a delicate kiss against your lips.

It only lasts a few seconds, but it’s breathtaking nonetheless.

“Jungwon?”

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me again.”

He does as he’s told, pressing his lips against yours harder this time.

You reciprocate the kiss, your arms wrapping around his shoulders, your hands finding the base of his neck and playing with the hair at the nape of it.

Your lips move in sync, creating more passion as it goes.

Jungwon moves, his hand that was resting on the bed comes forward to rest on your waist.

His tongue presses against your lips and you open your mouth, giving him access.

Your tongues move together, the kiss becoming more and more heated as time goes on.

Jungwon’s hand comes to rest on your arm, lightly pushing you down so you're resting on the bed, his frame coming to hover over you.

You separate, lightly gasping for air as you look into each other’s eyes.

“Tell me you want this as much as I do,” Jungwon says, practically pleading.

“I want this, Jungwon. I want you.”

Jungwon dives back in, trailing kisses down the front of your neck, to the exposed part of your chest.

His fingers find the hem of your shirt, “Can I take this off?”

“Please.”

He pulls it up, over your head.

His large hands find your breasts immediately.

His fingers tug and twist your nipples, making your back arch up off the bed.

He leans down, taking your left nipple into his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue around it as you moan in pleasure.

“Fuck Jungwon, that feels…” you trail off, not able to finish your sentence as he switches to the other nipple.

He trails kisses down your stomach, until he reaches the waistband of your shorts.

“Wait,” you say, and Jungwon stops immediately.

“What is it? Are you uncomfortable?”

“No, no. I just… I wanna take care of you first.”

“Y/N you don’t have to—”

“But I want to. Although, I’ve never done this before, so you’ll have to guide me.”

“You’re a virgin?”

You nod, taking your lip between your teeth.

“That’s okay, pretty, I’ll guide you.”

Jungwon gets up and takes his own shirt off, revealing what you saw earlier but weren’t paying attention to.

His broad shoulders, toned chest and lean torso.

You could drool, he’s so your type.

Your attention is taken by him shrugging his pants and boxers down.

You get down on the carpet in front of him, anticipating.

His cock is already hard. It stands at attention, long and girthy but not too much.

You have to admit, you’ve done some research online in anticipation of this moment. You just hope you don’t fuck it up.

You spit into your hand, lathering it on his cock, listening to him hiss as your cold hand meets the warmth of his skin.

The tip is blaring red, evident of how much he wants this.

You stroke him a few times, just to start.

Then, you slowly take him into your mouth, starting just with the head.

You suck on it, tasting the precum he’s been leaking.

Then you take more of him into your mouth, avoiding your teeth as much as you can.

“God, it seems like you already know what you’re doing, where’d that come from huh?” You know he’s teasing but you feel a responsibility to answer genuinely.

You pull off of him slowly, “I may have done some research about this kind of thing before.”

You smile up at him, watching as his mouth opens in slight shock.

“Ah, so my pretty girl isn’t as innocent as she looks?”

His hand comes up to grab the back of your head, not forcing you but simply as a guide.

You take him back into your mouth, holding what won’t fit in your mouth.

You begin to bob your head, stroking what doesn’t fit.

You think you’re doing a good job, if Jungwon’s moans mean anything.

“Just like that, pretty girl,” he says.

You use the hand that’s stroking him and twist it slightly as you go, creating a solid rhythm.

The sounds of you sucking his cock turn him on so much, he thinks he could cum from that alone, but that plus the pleasure he’s feeling being Jungwon closer to orgasm than he’d like to admit.

Within just a few minutes, he’s close.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, pretty. Where do you want it?”

You pull off slightly but keep the tip in your mouth, sucking on it, indicating you want him to cum in your mouth.

Jungwon thinks he’s a goner, as he cums in your mouth, painting your throat white while he moans loudly.

As he comes down from his high, panting softly, he helps you up from the floor, before turning you around and pushing you back against the bed.

“It’s my turn to please you.”

As you sit up against the pillows, his fingers find the waistband of your shorts, “Can I take these off?”

You nod, watching as his eyes come in contact with your bare pussy.

“No underwear? Naughty girl.”

You’re already soaking wet, your arousal painting your folds and making them glisten in the dim lighting of the room.

“Fuck, you look so pretty. Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen, baby,” Jungwon says, taking a gentle finger and rubbing it against your folds.

You jerk at the contact, whining as his fingers slide through them.

“Are you gonna make me feel good, Wonnie?”

He groans at the cute nickname, “I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby.”

With that, he leans down, taking your clit directly into his mouth.

You gasp, arching off the bed as Jungwon sucks on it.

His fingers play with your folds as his tongue swirls around your clit, playing with it.

“Oh my god, Jungwon!”

Fingers soaked in your arousal, he slowly eases one finger inside you, being as gentle as he can.

You whimper at the intrusion. It doesn’t hurt but it’s uncomfortable.

“I know pretty, I know,” he comforts you, thumb rubbing your clit making you feel just as much pleasure.

He goes back to sucking on it, tongue gathering all your slick and swallowing it eagerly.

“You taste so good, I’ll get addicted.”

He slowly thrusts and curls that finger inside you, the uncomfortable feeling being replaced by pleasure.

Your moans fill the room, your hands coming up to grip Jungwon’s hair.

“That’s right baby, hold onto me,” he says, encouraging you.

As he sucks on your clit, he inserts another finger, curling them repeatedly, stretching you open.

Minutes pass and you can feel the band in your stomach tighten, “I’m gonna cum, Jungwon, fuck!”

“Cum for me, pretty,” he says, as you cum all over his tongue and fingers.

He takes it all in, swallowing your release and watching in amazement as it coats his fingers, more and more spilling out.

He leans forward, lips meeting yours as you taste yourself on him.

“You ready for my cock?” He asks and you nod, spreading your legs further.

He runs his cock up and down your pussy, coating it in your release, before slowly pushing inside you.

Your breathing gets slightly heavier at the feeling of fullness, but it’s a good feeling.

He pauses, giving you all the time you need to adjust.

After a minute, you tell him to move and he wastes no time in thrusting into you at a rhythmic pace.

Your mouth is permanently forced open at the feeling of his thrusts.

The power and precision is just right, making you feel like you’re floating.

“Fuck Jungwon, it feels so good,” you whine, hands gripping his biceps.

“That’s all I could ask for, pretty girl.”

You feel him so deep inside you, it’s mad. It feels so good, something you’ve never felt, nor do you want to feel this with anyone else.

“Fucking me so good, god I love it.”

“Yeah, you love this cock?”

“Fuck yes, I love it!”

His thumb comes to rest on your clit, rubbing deep circles on it, causing you to moan even louder, until you’re practically screaming his name.

“I’m gonna cum, fuck I’m gonna cum Jungwon please don’t stop!”

“Me too, fuck where do you want me to cum?”

“Inside please, I want it so badly.”

He groans into the side of your neck, leaving featherlight kisses against it.

His thrusts become erratic, hitting places so deep, you didn’t know they existed.

“Fuck, I’m cumming,” you whine, releasing all over Jungwon’s cock as he does the same inside you.

Both of you ride out your highs on his slowing thrusts, until he eventually comes to a stop.

As you look into each other's eyes, Jungwon can’t help but smile, “So, about that date.”

AEWON 2025

[peachglazewrites]

hear me out. user using safe word while doing it with abby?? like what abby's reaction would be??

one shot maybe?? smth like that

𝚜𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚜

𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: abby/f!reader 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: tlou typical violence, smut (18+ mdni), use of words like cunt/tits, use of safeword, panic attacks 𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚜: established relationship, angst, fluff, use of pet names (honey, baby, pretty girl) 𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚘: no use of y/n or reader descriptions, in canon world 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 4.6k

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: After a rough patrol, you come home to your girlfriend to try and take your mind off things. Unfortunately things don't go to plan.

a/n: thank you so much for your request!! I spent a lot of time thinking about how I wanted to go about this, and found that this was the most comfortable for me personally to write, as well as fit how I think about Abby!

I hope you enjoy ♡︎

̗̀➛ master list ̗̀➛ request your own here

Screeching. Clicking. Hurried footsteps on asphalt. Gunfire.

Your heart is beating a mile a minute, adrenaline thrumming through your system. Your rifle feels heavy in your hands, the weight of it slowing you down.

Don’t look. Don’t fucking look.

The croaking snarl sounds so impossibly close, practically right in your ear.

Shit. Just keep running. Oh god just keep—

A rock, a piece of rubble, your own foot, you don’t know what it is, but you trip on something. Your legs give out under you, rifle tumbling from your grip and clattering against the asphalt as your hands fly out to catch you. The fabric of your cargos rip as you skid, your cheek grazing and cutting on the jagged rocks beneath you.

That guttural clicking doesn’t stop, even when you do. It gets closer and closer, and you scramble on your hands and knees, reaching for your gun. Your fingers barely graze the butt of it, just one more push and you’ll have it.

But you can’t move, not any further. Not when the clicker chasing you has fallen on top of you, pinning you to the ground.

A cry rips from your throat, ragged and gasping and please somebody help—

Multiple gunshots rip through the air, so close it feels like your eardrums might explode. The weight on your back gets heavier as the clicker slumps forwards, head overgrown and expanded with fungus knocking against the back of your own skull. The final, gasping croaks sound right in your ear, hot rancid breath puffing against your cheek.

Fuck, that was so close. Too close.

You want to go home.

⸙

Medical clears you within the hour, one of the medics cleaning up the dirt and grime from your cuts and grazes. You get given a change of clothes and some pain meds to take home, and you end up throwing out your old clothes that are ripped and caked in blood the second you have the chance.

This day has felt so impossibly long. Your body aches, your cheek stings, and your head is pounding. The walk back to your apartment feels too long, the stairs too tall. You just want to be home, sit down, see--

Abby smiles at you as you walk in, looking up when she hears the latch catch on the door. It’s a small thing, soft and affectionate, the way she always greets you. “Honey, hey.”

You feel the ache leave your bones at the sight of her, hair loosely tied back, faded book in her hands. A smile of your own works its way onto your face, unable to hold it back when you’re around her.

“Hey, baby.”

She rises from the sofa, walking over to meet you at the door where you’re kicking off your muddy boots. She holds her arms out for you, hands instinctively finding your hips to pull you in.

That smile of hers falters when you turn to face her, a calloused hand coming up to gently grasp your chin. She tilts your head to the side, thumb brushing just under the graze on your cheek.

“What happened here?”

Bringing a hand up to cover her own, you pull it from your chin. “Nothing.” You bring her knuckles up to your lips, pressing a light kiss to the skin. “Fell out of the truck when we pulled in.”

Flashes of the chase, your fall, the noise of the clicker dying on top of you make you pause, breathing out a trembling breath against Abby’s knuckles. You shouldn’t lie; you know out of anyone that Abby would understand what it’s like to be out there. But you don’t want her to worry, to stress about you more than she likes to.

You look back up at her, pushing the memories of the patrol back.

The corner of Abby’s lips ticks up, just for a second, but you can see the way she’s biting the inside of her cheek. You roll your eyes. “Go ahead.”

Her lips split in a teasing grin, the hand on your hip sliding to the small of your back to pull you closer to her chest. “I didn’t even say anything.”

“You didn’t have to. I know that look.”

She chuckles, a low sound that sends a wave of goosebumps down your arms. “Can’t I find your lack of coordination even a little bit funny?”

“Nope. That’s… spousal abuse, or something.” Despite your grumbling, you let her guide your arms to wrap around her shoulders, linking behind her neck.

Abby’s eyebrows raise, eyes crinkling as she smirks at you. “Spousal, huh?”

“Shut up,” you huff, pointedly looking away. She laughs, thumbs swiping soothing arches across your back as she holds you close.

“Seriously though, you’re okay?”

You look back to her, watching her eyes track the graze on your cheek, a few scabs but mostly just rough skin. You nod, leaning in to press a reassuring kiss to her pouty lips.

“I’m okay. Just a shit end to an already shitty patrol,” you sigh, bumping your forehead against hers, eyes closing. “I want to just sit down and relax tonight, get my mind off it.”

Abby hums, pressing another soft kiss to your lips before straying to the side, gently kissing over your bruised cheek. She moves lower, warm breath fanning across your neck as she noses at and kisses the sensitive skin of your throat. You tip your head to the side, threading a hand in her hair as you pull her closer. It feels nice. Exactly what you need.

The two of you stand there, bodies gently swaying side to side as Abby kisses across every inch of skin she can see. The pounding in your head fades away, replaces by a pleasant buzz that has you clinging onto her tighter, breathing heavier.

She kisses back up to your lips, capturing yours once more before pulling away, smiling at you. “Do you want a drink?”

“A drink would be so good, right now.”

You pull her in for one last kiss before you untangle from each other, Abby breaking off to rummage in the kitchen for two glasses and a bottle of… something. You pad across the carpet and down the steps, sinking down on the sofa where Abby was sitting. The spot is still warm from where she was all curled up, book laying face down on the armrest, Frankenstein.

“Here,” Abby offers, leaning over the back of the sofa to hand you a glass. You lean up, lips pursed as you take it, smiling when Abby leans down to kiss you sweetly.

“Thanks, Abs.”

You take a sip of the amber liquid in the glass, hissing through your teeth as it burns down your throat. You hold the glass above your head when Abby comes round the side of the sofa, dropping herself onto the cushion next to you, jostling you. The liquor in her own glass threatens to splash up the side from the movement.

“Careful, babe,” you laugh, watching as she brings the vessel to her lips. She takes a much longer sip than you, and you find yourself getting warm as she licks the remnants from her lips.

Abby slings one of her arms along the top of the sofa, and you take it as an invitation to snuggle into her side, nursing your glass in your lap. Her hand comes down to rest lightly on your shoulder, thumb sweeping and massaging the tense muscles under her fingers.

A shaky sigh leaves your lips at the feeling, and you tilt you head to rest against her chest to give her more access. “Feels nice.”

Abby hums, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “You’re real tense. Patrol that bad?”

You nuzzle further into her chest, melting under her hands. “Had to take down some infected out by the highway,” you murmur, blinking away the image of your gun just barely out of your reach. “Nothing crazy, but more eventful than usual.”

“M’sorry.”

“It’s fine.” You press a kiss to her chest. “Just glad to be home.”

You both fall into a comfortable silence; Abby taking occasional sips from her glass as she massages along your shoulders, while yours lay forgotten in your lap. You could fall asleep here, listening to the thumpthump thumpthump of her heart beneath your ear, feeling so warm and comforted and taken care of.

“You know,” Abby starts, voice low. Her heartrate picks up a bit as she swallows, running a finger along the rim of her glass. “I can think of a more effective way of getting rid of all that tension.”

Something hot simmers low in your gut as you blink your eyes open, shifting your head to look up at Abby. She’s looking away, eyes focused on her nearly empty glass.

“You propositioning me, Anderson?”

A smile curls her lips, and her beautiful blue eyes flick down to yours. It feels like the air has been punched out of your lungs as you look at her, freckled face so lovely and close to your own.

“And if I was?” She tilts her head down, the tip of her strong nose brushing against your own.

Your tongue darts out, wetting your lips as your gaze drifts down to hers, full and begging to be kissed. “Then I’d be asking why you aren’t kissing me already”

She surges forwards, the hand massaging your shoulders sliding up to cup the side of your face, pulling you to meet her in the middle. You can’t help the small moan that leaves you as she licks into your mouth, already feeling like putty under her hands from the massage and her soft lips.

You shift in your seat, pressing yourself impossibly closer as the kiss deepens, sharp huffs of breath leaving your noses as you get carried away.

You forget about the glass in your hand, still mostly full of liquor as you bring a hand up, intending to wrap it around her neck to tug her down atop of you. Instead, the alcohol sloshes up the side of the glass and spills in your lap, the cold liquid seeping into your pants.

“Shit—” you hiss, pulling away from Abby. You frown at the dark stain in your lap, the stinging smell assaulting your nose as it soaks through the fabric and wets your thigh.

Abby snorts, looking down and laughing at the wet patch. “Damn, didn’t know I affected you like th— ow!”

“Shut up,” you huff, smacking her arm. “This feels so gross.”

You reluctantly pull yourself from Abby’s arms, holding your glass out in front of you as you rise. “Pass.” You nod to her own glass, practically empty, taking it from her as she holds it out to you.

You place the glasses on the coffee table a couple of feet away, wiping your wet hand on your already wet cargos. Yuck. You’ll have to take them off.

A smirk works its way onto your face, a teasing idea wriggling at the back of your brain. You turn back to face Abby but make no move to walk back to over.

She’s made herself comfortable since you moved, arms hooked over the back of the sofa, thighs spread wide, taking up space. The sofa isn’t huge but can comfortably fit the two of you. With her spread out like that, though, there’s really only going to be one spot for you to sit; and the smirk on her face shows that she knows that.

She’s watching you intently from her spot, blue eyes raking over the lines of your body. She shifts subtly in place, hips twitching.

Neither of you say anything, sitting in charged silence as your hands drift to the hem of your shirt, fiddling with the material. Abby notices and locks right in, watches the way you thumb at the fabric, how you bunch it in your fists. Even as you pull up, dragging the fabric over your head where you can’t see her, you can feel her eyes on you. Never straying.

You drop your shirt onto the floor next to you, discarding it to reach for your hips, fiddling with the button of your damp cargos.

Abby is positively transfixed, shifting in her seat as she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. Her eyes are boring holes into your hips, watching with bated breath as you pop the button and slowly slide the zipper down your fly. Her hands grip the back of the couch, the veins in her biceps pulsing, chest heaving with deep breaths as you shimmy the fabric down your thighs, stepping out of them when they drop around your ankles.

“Fuck,” she whispers, hooded eyes dragging up your bare legs and across your torso, pausing for a few moments on your chest. She finally meets your gaze once more, the heat behind her eyes making you throb.

“If you don’t get over here…”

You laugh softly, biting your lip as you pad your way back to her. She unhooks her arms from the back of the couch, reaching out for you the moment you’re close enough to drag you onto her wide lap.

Your arms wrap around her neck as you descend on her, lips locking, her large hands roaming. They can’t stay still, rubbing up your thighs, kneading the fat along your hips, dragging up to palm and tease at your tits. She’s devouring you whole, and you can’t do anything but thank her for it.

She pulls from your lips with a groan, placing hot, wet kisses down your jaw and throat.

“Abby—” you moan, tilting your head back to stare at the ceiling, chest heaving with your heavy breaths.

You feel her smirk against your skin, nipping teasingly as her large hands drift down, gripping your hips to roll them down against her own.

“Oh fuck,” she grunts, mouthing hotly at the swell of your chest as you grind against each other.

You need to feel her-- get your hands on her. You ball and scrunch at the back of her shirt until you can reach the hem, pulling desperately to tug it off. Abby pulls away from you for only a moment, just long enough to rip her shirt over her head and throw it behind the sofa. She’s back on you in an instant, the skin of her chest pressing against your own.

You can’t help but sigh at the feeling of her bare back under your fingers, gripping and digging your nails into the skin littered with dozens of tiny scars. Her muscles roll and shift under your hands, and you don’t think you’ll ever tire of the feeling.

“Baby—please,” you begin to whine, the slick slide of your wet underwear against your cunt as you thrust against her making you want more.

“Okay, pretty girl,” Abby shushes, kissing back up your chest and throat. One of the hands on your hips slides down, across the bare skin of your thigh, coming to settle between you to cup your damp cunt. “I’ll take care of you.”

A gasp tears through your throat, ragged breaths panting out from between your swollen lips as she rubs teasingly slow through your underwear. She has you squirming in place, nails biting the skin of her shoulders as you try oh so desperately to grind yourself down on her thick digits.

Abby just chuckles, a low teasing sound that makes you even wetter as she keeps her tortuous pace, capturing your lips to quiet your whining moans.

When it grows too much, when not even her perfect lips can keep your pleas and whines in, Abby slowly begins to sit up, using her large hands to manoeuvre you how she wants.

“Doing so good, honey,” she murmurs, rearranging you on her lap and guiding you to lay face down on the sofa, shifting so that she’s kneeling behind you.

A flutter of nerves unsettles your stomach as you rest your cheek to the cushions, the blossoming bruise on your cheek scratching along the worn fabric. You swallow them back and blink your eyes shut, a moan tumbling from your lips as Abby palms at your ass, hooking her fingers in the waistband of your underwear.

“This okay?”

You nod, responding with another soft moan as she slowly peels the fabric from your cunt, the air cooling along the wetness sticking to your thighs as the fabric falls to your knees. You feel so exposed, hips angled up like this for Abby to see-- but you can’t ignore the way you clench around nothing at the thought.

Her fingers are warm, thick as they slide through the folds of your cunt, dragging slick wetness up to your swollen clit. You jolt as she brushes over it, gasping a choked breath when she begins to rub slow, teasing circles around it.

You begin to feel breathless, like you can’t pull enough air into your lungs, but you can’t find it within you to care when her fingers feel so fucking good, and you need her to fuck you right now—

It’s like she can read your mind. You feel her shift behind you as her circles tighten, holding your hip in place as you squirm and thrust against nothing. Teasing laughs reach your ears before she finally, finally slides her fingers down where you want them.

Abby is never aggressive with you. Her movements, even when rougher than some, never mean to hurt or harm. Not once have you ever been worried or scared or fearful of your safety in the arms of this woman.

But when she presses a hand to your shoulder, drapes her body over your back to pin you to the couch as she works you open, it raises alarm bells. Loud ones.

You start to panic.

Your breathing that was already sharp and quick picks up even more, tears welling up in your eyes and blurring your vision.

“A-Abby—” You try and call out, but it comes out too close to a breathless whine for her to notice anything’s wrong.

“Abby, s-stop— Abby, red! Red!”

Abby pulls away immediately, fingers leaving you as she curses, stumbling a bit for balance as she backs right off. You can’t hold yourself up anymore, collapsing fully on the sofa, legs trembling as you begin to cry.

“Honey, can you lift your hips up f’me? Real quick, I promise,” she murmurs, voice shaky as she waits for you to reply.

You barely muster up a nod, eyes staring out ahead of you and into the room, tears falling freely and dripping off your nose as you whimper. Your legs are still shaky as you raise your hips, just enough for Abby to delicately slide your underwear back up, covering you.

She slips off the sofa behind you, leaving to grab the blanket off the bed. It’s not the softest thing in the world but is big enough to wrap the both of you up in it, so she drags it over to the sofa where you’re still laying, shuddering and trying to breathe.

“Can I touch you, baby? Just to wrap this around you. You think you can sit up for me?” She’s oh so gentle, so patient as she waits for you to give the okay.

You can’t help the whimper that leaves your lips as she touches you, hands pressed against your bare skin as she slowly sits you up. The touch is replaced by the blanket soon after, wrapped around your entire body and tucked up under your chin. Only your face peeks through, and you’re sure you look ridiculous, but you can’t find it in you to care.

It feels warm. Safe. Like you can breathe.

Abby crouches in front of you, shirt still discarded somewhere behind the sofa, careful not to crowd you. “Do you need space, or touch?”

“Space,” you stutter out, tears clinging to your lashes as you try to shake the feeling of the clicker’s disgusting breath against your cheek.

Abby’s eyes widen, only slightly, but enough to betray the fear she’s feeling as she looks at you; watches the rattling breaths leave your swollen lips as you cry in front of her. Nothing like this has happened in all the time you’ve been together. The two of you are usually so in sync, know exactly what the other needs. The only time anything other than ‘green’ has been uttered by either of you was ages ago, when Abby had to call ‘yellow’ because she got incredibly overstimulated; but that was it. ‘Red’ is new, and way more terrifying than either of you thought it would be.

“Would you like me to get you anything?” Abby asks softly, voice thick but pushing through.

You go to shake your head, to decline, but your mouth feels so dry…

“Water, please.”

“Of course, honey.”

She’s up in a flash, rummaging around in the kitchen for a clean glass, grabbing the jug from the mini-fridge you keep tucked under the counter to pour you a nice, cold cup.

She’s back before you can spiral too far down into your thoughts, offering the frosted glass for you to take. Snaking your hands out from under the blankets, your fingers lightly brush hers as you take the water, pressing it to your lips. The glass is damp and sparkling with condensation, the water nice and cold on your tongue as you swallow down the entire thing.

Abby’s ready to take the empty glass from you when you’re done, placing it down gently on the coffee table with the others.

She doesn’t try and broach what just happened, but she does make a point of sticking nearby. She settles down on the floor next to you, back pressed to the couch by your feet, careful not to touch you. It’s a kind gesture, one that you appreciate in this moment as you try and calm yourself down, focused on getting that disgusting, grimey feeling to leave your skin.

You can’t tell how much time passes, it may have been a few minutes, or maybe an hour, but it’s long enough for you to wet your lips, to call out for her.

“Abby…”

She looks up, twisting her body to check you over. Her eyes are so wide, filled to the brim with love and concern. It’s rare they’re this unguarded, even around you.

“Yeah?”

“Can you— I want you up here. Please.”

She climbs onto the sofa without another word, chest still bare as she sits by your side. She hesitates for a second, unsure of what exactly you need, but you crawl into her arms and she doesn’t need to ask anymore-- bundling you up and securing you in her lap.

The blanket is still wrapped around you, and you tug on it enough so that you can press your cheek sticky with tears to her bare skin, desperate to hear her hear that sill beats beneath her skin.

Thumpthump thumpthump thumpthump.

“Are you okay?” She asks it so quietly that you barely catch it, muffled under the sound of her heartbeat.

“Kind of,” you offer weakly, too tired to lie.

“Did I— I didn’t mean to—”

You press a ghost of a kiss to the swell of her chest, over her heart. “It wasn’t you. Not really.”

She swallows, throat clicking as her hands run soothingly up and down your back through the blanket. “Then what…?”

“Patrol,” you start, blinking as you stare off to the side of the room, the place where Abby’s makeshift bookshelf sits, overflowing. “We ran into infected. There were… so many. All trapped in a parking garage, came rushing out when we rolled the door up.  I was—” Your breath hitches, that familiar burning behind your eyes as tears blur your vision.

Abby pulls you in closer, pressing her lips to the top of your head.

“I-I was being chased by a clicker and I tripped, then it fell on top of me, and I was so scared, Abby. I thought I was going to die.”

Abby swears as her hands move along your body, calloused hand cupping your cheek with so much gentleness that it makes you want to cry for a different reason. She slowly picks your head up off her chest, thumb brushing softly under the scabs on your cheek. She’s frowning, lips downturned, and you decide then and there that you never want to see her look at you like this ever again.

“If I knew, I wouldn’t have tried to—”

“Hey, don’t do that,” you interrupt, shaking your head slightly. You sniffle, a couple of stray tears dripping from your lashes. “I didn’t tell you. I thought—I thought I could just forget it happened. It’s not your fault. You did nothing wrong, Abby.”

She’s still frowning, brows drawn together as she wipes away the tears that mar your skin, hot trails that quickly cool in the air. “I’m still sorry.” She leans in, pressing delicate kisses along your cheek, up to your forehead. “The idea of scaring you, it’s— I hate it. I’m so sorry, honey.”

A hand finds its way out of the blankets, coming up to cup her cheek, the two of you mirroring each other. Abby touches your foreheads together and you close your eyes, sitting and breathing the same air.

“I love you,” Abby whispers.

Leaning up, you press a soft kiss to her lips. “I love you too.”

“Did you want to move? Go to bed?” Abby asks, nosing gently at your cheek.

You shake your head, settling back so that you’re resting against her chest once more. “Want to stay here. Do you think… Can you read to me?”

“Yeah, of course. You want to choose something?” Her hands come back to splay against your back, smoothing out the wrinkles of the blanket.

“Could you read from your spot in Frankenstein? I just want to hear your voice, I don’t mind.”

Abby presses her lips to the top of your head. “Course, baby. Let’s shuffle a bit.”

She’s gentle with you as she moves you, shifting the two of you to lay back together on the sofa. You stay cuddled up to her chest, your legs settling between her own as she rests against the armrest, one arm slung across your waist and the other held above the two of you, Frankenstein in hand.

Abby clears her throat, wetting her lips before beginning to read aloud.

“From this day natural philosophy, and particularly chemistry, in the most comprehensive sense of the term, became nearly my sole occupation. I read with ardour those works, so full of genius and discrimination, which modern inquirers…”

Your eyes flutter closed as you lay against her chest, feeling the subtle vibrations of her low voice as she reads. It’s soothing, calming-- a reminder that Abby is here and with you.

You don’t know when you fall asleep, but when you wake up a few hours later you’re still on the sofa, Abby’s chest rising and falling with her sleeping breaths. A strong arm is slung over her eyes, the other still wrapped securely around you.

The blanket has shuffled off of you during your sleep, and you try as quietly and slowly as possible to haul it back up, draping it across the both of you. Abby stirs lightly, the arm covering her eyes coming down to wrap around you, almost as if she sensed you moving about and is trying to keep you from straying too far.

You snuggle back down atop of her, kissing her chest lightly before resting your cheek back against it—skin on skin.

Thumpthump thumpthump thumpthump.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ request your own here! . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

[chiaroscurryy]

The excessive amount of symbolism in Kendrick’s super bowls halftime show:

A rant because I like king Kenny.

(I promise I’m still making this first video guys🙏🏾)

Our introduction:

Should be long known that Kendrick didn’t do all of these disses towards Drake just as some feeble rap battle. He started it to bring his LA peers together. Which he did at a concert where both crips and bloods danced together on stage. Blue and Red finally made purple. Now Kendrick uses this power he was given to lure in his audience yet again. With subtle hints and jabs telling us that the time for revolution is now. We move on to the show.

Performance:

“The revolution bout to be televised you picked the right time but the wrong guy.”

Meaning the government, manipulating and controlling its people and the people eating it up like stray dogs and raw meat. Chose the ”right time” but with Kendrick multiple times saying that he has the power to “press the button.” meaning Kendrick at any time or place could tell his followers and fans to strike whatever spot, place, or event he pleases and without the power of manipulation or lies. We’d all do it no questions asked. Hence him being the ”wrong guy” Kendrick has too much love from fans to die of vain, or be silenced without squalor.

The dancers:

Being colors of red, white, and blue. They all leave the same car yet end up split half and half. Not only talking about what Lamar usually talks about (blacks separated by higher ups) but America as a whole is separated through pure manipulation, propaganda, and hatred.

Going into his not like us performance:

he starts with “40 acres and a mule this is bigger than the music.”* 40 acres and a mule is what was promised to over 1200 black people after the civil war to repair a fraction of the damage caused during slavery. And over 1200 black peoples property was relinquished and taken back so the blacks could work for the previous white property owners. Setting the entire deal back two steps ” 40 acres and a mule.” this meaning that we can’t always trust what the rich say. Even when it’s temporarily in our grasp.

Uncle Sam:

Samuel Jackson, posing as *”Uncle Sam”* a literal metaphor of America, constantly bashes Kendrick during the performance. Saying things like “too LOUD. Too RECKLESS. Too GHETTO” how many white directors and music labels tell black creators and actors how they sound to ruthless and cruel when truly they only speak words with no meaning but love and fun behind it. “See you brought your homeboys with ya, the old culture cheat code” banning together as a community of color and truly working together, which every time has bring us success and victory without fail. Just like putting in a “cheat code” automatically makes you stronger. “Score keeper. Deduct one life.” Now this one has an incredible amount of meanings that all correspond with eachother. Divide and Conquer. Kill just one of the countless people in the community and the entire thing could fall apart. Deduct one life also meaning video game wise they lose the amount of chances to appease higher ups and satisfy them. Deduct one life ALSO meaning and the most noticeable one is that higher ups. The government. White men of power. Despise and hate when their slaves and submissive people come to peace with each other and become a team. Because they can’t fight hundreds. Not even tens. Seeing us together is a fear injector for the rich.

What it all means:

This entire thing together is Kendrick telling us to squabble up. Prepare ourselves for battle and revolution. And I don’t think it’s in the ways of the civil war. But in the ways of Martin Luther king. Except the dream will be fulfilled. And the consequences for pulling the trigger will be much heavier than a peaceful protest. Our time approaches. Do not be late.

[myfictionaldreams]

Day 18: Sex Pollen - Bucky Barnes

Summary: It was your first mission out with your mentor, Bucky, but not all goes to plan when you stumble across an old Hydra laboratory and accidentally trigger a trap.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, dubious content (kinda), mentor/protege, grumpy/sunshine trope, sex pollen, fingering, begging, crying, rough sex, multiple orgasms, praise kink, creampie

masterlist 📚 

kinktober masterlist😈 

AO3 Link 

“Can you stay close to me?”

“Bucky, if I was any closer to you, I might as well be your shadow. Will you chill out, please?”.

All the response that you are given is an exasperated sigh from your team leader, who was directly in front of you, his gun raised and pointing in whichever direction his eyes followed. You were so close to him that the head of his body seeped through his uniform and into your back as you followed his steps, almost like a choreographed dance with the synrosy.

It was technically your first mission today; even though you’d been over comms for Bucky countless times, he finally gave in and agreed that you could join. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you; in fact, he trusted you more than most. It was more due to his intense mentorship and protectiveness that he’d developed for you over the years, which had everything to do with your clumsiness.

Yes, you were an agent, but there were only so many times that you could accidentally hurt yourself before they called in your experience and practice. You were moved to a behind-the-desk job, which pained your heart, but soon, Bucky was your partner, digitally through the headset and then in person, as you begged him daily for training and a chance to prove yourself.

He was reluctant, but you were like an incessant fly, always buzzing around him with that chirpy personality that even managed to draw a smile to his grumpy old - yet handsome - face. The more time he spent with you, the more you could chip away at his heavy exterior and mask, which only hindered your chances of returning to the field again, as the thought of having you so close in the danger zone had him near palpitations.

He blamed it on your clumsy nature, tripping over your own feet or dropping vital machinery, but in truth, Bucky had wanted to prioritise your safety, which was hard when he had a job to do. However, after months of pestering, you wore him down enough to agree that you could attend the Avengers to a sweep of a supposed deserted Hydra base.

“If you continue down this corridor, I can check the rooms”, you say quietly, hardly audibly over a pin drop, but with Bucky’s increased hearing, you knew he could hear.

“Absolutely not; you’re staying with me; we’ve discussed this. We’ll check the rooms together and finish the rest of the corridor”. Bucky’s word was final, so you didn’t argue back, restraining violently to not eye roll at his authoritative tone.

“You two are like an old married couple”, Natasha quips over the comms, which was enough for both you and Bucky to roll your eyes. It was a comment frequently shared with those around you, and it warmed you to hear such pleasantries, and then the realisation that Bucky would never go for someone like you had the sensation of ice coursing down your spine.

“I think you’ll find he’s the old one, not me”, you retort sarcastically as Bucky leads the way into the first room. “This looks like Bruce’s office or something. Do you recognise any of these experiments?”

It was an old, decrepit office laced with dust and thick cobwebs, similar to something from Frankenstein with the number of attempted experiments that seemed littered around the room. Endless stacks of paper, vials of dusky-coloured liquids, and photographs stapled to the walls that were decaying with age.

“No, I don’t recognise any of this, but whatever it is can’t be good news. Stay close and don’t touch anything”. You once more refrain from the eye roll, knowing he means well, but you’re not a child who needs to be reminded to hold their parent's hand all the time. Taking a step away from him, your eyes scanned the various objects, noticing that it was in a language you didn’t quite recognise.

“Thor, I think we have some voodoo stuff here that’s from your neck of the woods”, Bucky announced through his earpiece. 

“You think so?” you ask over your shoulder towards the man with his back to you.

“Yeah, I recognise some of these markings from his hammer”.

“Huh. maybe it’s one of the bases Loki was hiding in; he did like dark and damp places- SHIT!”

To your credit, you hadn’t touched anything or even tripped and knocked something over; potentially, a trip wire or a sensor was trapped in the room, but a light drizzling mist sprayed into your face halfway through your sentence. As you were talking, the concoction settled on your tongue but also seemed everywhere else: your eyes, nostrils, and ears felt wet.

“What? What happened?!” Bucky snapped, standing in front of you in seconds as he assessed you, wiping your eyes.

“I…I don’t know, something sprayed me in the face”. As soon as you’d explained what had happened, Bucky was cradling your face more harshly than you’d have liked, tilting your face in all directions, even sniffing close to see what had covered you, but it had already absorbed into your skin.

Bucky’s eyes were frantically searching over every pore of your face like it would give him answers about what had sprayed you. His gloved finger and thumb holding your chin tightened as he swore. “Fuck! I told you to be careful and stay by my side! Why would you touch anything?!”

Pushing his hands away from your face, you gave him an incredulous gaze, “I didn’t touch anything! I’m not an idiot, so you don’t have to talk to me like I’m one, bucky! Stop- stop trying to touch me, I’m fine,” he had been reaching for your face to examine it again, ignoring your sassy, angry tone. Still, you stepped back out of his reach, becoming frustrated with his lack of trust.

As Bucky’s mouth opened to probably further chastise you, the door ricocheted off the wall as The Avengers swarmed into the uncomfortable small room. Natasha was by your side first, examining your face just as closely as Bucky, but at least she had listened when you explained that you felt completely fine. Tony then scanned your vital signs, which were also fine.

“I told you! It’s probably some mouldy old water or something; I feel fine now can you all give me some space? You’re making it hot in here”. You were fanning your face to try and cool yourself like someone had just turned on the heating, but it was primarily because the small room was full of warm-blooded people.

“Let’s head back out, and we’ve nearly finished the sweep on the North side”, Tony began, the face plate of his suit sliding back into place. “We’ll continue and finish the rest.” He lifted his metal-covered hand and pointed a finger towards Bucky. “Barnes, take her back to the Quinjet, keep an eye on her”.

“No! Don’t send me back to the jet like a child. I told you, I feel absolutely fine!” you quickly tried to rationalise with Tony. Still, he ignored you, hovering off the ground and flying out into the corridor. You looked to the other Avengers with the hope that one of them may find some pity for you, but all you had in response were close-lipped smiles that notified you that there was nothing that they were going to do.

Letting out a frustrated shout, you stopped, admittedly like a child, in the direction you and Bucky had walked down. Even though his steps were silent, you knew he was behind. You could feel his stare burning into the back of your head.

As you returned to the Quinjet, Bucky continued to stay silent as you both sat on opposite sides of the seating bay. Your anger spiked as you shrugged off your jacket, still feeling slightly warm and needing air to reach your skin.

“Where are you going?” Bucky asked as you moved across the jet with determined steps.

“The toilet, or do I need you to hold my hand as I’m doing that too?” you snap, cheeks heating as anger bubbles deep in the centre of your chest. Bucky, for once, looked taken aback by your tone as he shook his head and allowed you to go to the bathroom.

Once inside the small compartment, you rushed to the sink, turned the tap onto its coldest setting and began to scoop it over your skin, sighing in contentment as your skin began to cool down. Pressing your fingers against your face, you felt uneasy with the temperature of your skin, and it was like you were starting to get the flu but also not quite at the heat that concerned you. You decided it was probably from rushing back to the jet after a few minutes of deep breathing.

A rush of guilt settled heavily in your stomach as you thought about how you’d spoken to Bucky. You’d never broken rank and been that rude to him before. Not once had you ever raised your voice or even been angry with him, even through all the times that he’d declined your joining for a mission; it was always for the best, but now, everything just seemed to have escalated. You couldn’t calm yourself down like you were buzzing from the inside out, affecting your temperature and mind.

Three swift knocks on the bathroom door had your head snapping in that direction. “Everything ok in there?” Bucky asked tentatively.

“Yes! Can’t a girl pee without being interrupted?” you snapped, and immediately, you regretted the nasty tone you’d spit out.

There was a pause from Bucky before he continued to speak, but this time, he had lowered his voice in a soft and calming way. “It’s been half an hour, and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay, Sweetheart”. 

Half an hour?! You could have sworn it was only a couple of minutes. Rubbing your hands over your face and shaking away the tension, you nervously opened the door, tentatively looking up at Bucky through your lashes.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. I just didn’t want to let you down, and I promise I didn’t touch anything in the lab-”.

Bucky pulled the door open entirely, his eyes roaming over your body to check you were still in one piece before he sighed. “It’s fine, Doll. I just wanted to make sure you’re ok… Are you… ok?”

His blue eyes flicker over your face as he notices that there's something not quite right with you, but all you can manage is a shrug of your shoulders, wiping your eyes that were feeling a little irritated. “I feel mostly fine. I think I need a lie-down, though”.

Bucky looked unsettled by your words but didn’t stop you from walking over to the onboard bunker, where you rolled onto the thin mattress and promptly fell into a deep sleep.

“So, are we just going to leave her here?” Tony sarcastically asked the other Avengers members, who were now watching you sleep.

“No, asshole. I’ll take her”, Bucky grunted, moving past the billionaire to squat beside your body. You’d been in a deep slumber since collapsing onto the bed. Bucky had stayed by your side the entire journey home, which was a fair length, so he was surprised to see you still asleep. Tony had set up the screen to display your vitals, which he watched like a hawk and other than the fact that you weren’t waking, everything remained normal.

The other Avengers didn’t argue with Bucky, knowing how protective he was over you, as they shuffled out of the loading hatch. Bucky shimmied one arm underneath your knees and the other to support your back as he carried your bridal style. You moaned at the disruption, arms circling around his jacket-covered shoulders.

Bucky contemplated taking you to the medical bay for a thorough check, but seeing your peaceful face, he didn’t want to disturb you. He’d stay with you to ensure you were checked as soon as you woke up. It wasn’t like it was the first time he’d stayed with you as you slept, as there were many times you’d either fallen asleep on his arm during a movie or gotten too drunk during an Avengers event that he stayed just to make sure you didn’t choke on your vomit.

As he walked through the Avengers headquarters, he ignored the call for a debrief by his teammates and continued until he arrived at your bedroom, booting the door closed behind him.

Your bedroom was just as messy as he had anticipated it to be, stepping carefully over the shoes, clothes and books that you liked to say were carefully placed into piles on the floor, but you’d simply just left them there to clean up another time. Your bed was just as bad with mountains of pillows that you insisted on having, even though Bucky thought it was severely excessive.

Trying to reposition his hold on you, he hoisted you higher to spare one of his hands to throw the numerous pillows you owned onto the floor. In doing so, your forehead rested against his cheek, and you released an unsettled whine on the impact of his skin touching yours.

Bucky froze at the noise, trying to look down at your face, but in his position, he couldn’t see properly as you were thoroughly tucked under his chin. Finally having enough space, he ever so carefully led you out onto the soft mattress.

Your eyebrows were furrowed as if you were having a nightmare. Bucky sat beside you on the bed, counting your breaths and frowning when he noticed that you were breathing more rapidly than you had been when he was in his arms.

Sweat began to gather along your temple, causing your hair to stick to your forehead, which he quickly moved to move away. As the tip of his fingers connected with your skin, many things seemed to happen simultaneously.

For one, you released a deeply pained groan as you curled your body into a ball on your side, beginning to breathe in quick succession like you were hyperventilating.

“Sweetheart?” Bucky asked with rising concern, now cupping the side of your face with his flesh hand, but this seemed to trigger the pains enough that you awoke.

Your eyelids fluttered open just to clamp shut again, squeezing as you cried in unbelievable agony. Your skin was burning as if all your nerves had been individually set on fire, causing sweat to come to the surface of your pores drenching your clothes, which was still mostly your uniform.

“It hurts. It’s too hot”, you whimpered, lower lip wobbling as eyes effortlessly tracked down your cheeks. With trembling fingers, you attempted to undo your trousers, but the stabbing pain in your abdomen caused you to curl further into a ball like you were trying to shield your stomach from anyone touching it.

“Let me help. We need to get you to cool down. JARVIS, inform the medical bay that we need some assistance”, Bucky shouted Tony’s AI that ran throughout the building.

As Bucky managed to undo the button to your trousers, JARVIS responded with news that had Bucky’s heart almost stopping. “They are aware of the situation as Mr Stark has requested that I record her vitals from returning to Avengers headquarters. You are both officially in quarantine until they can find out what it is that was sprayed and affecting her”. 

The sound of the bedroom locking echoed louder than any of your sobs as Bucky cursed, running up to the barricade and attempting to break out. “You can’t just lock us in here! She’s going to die, Stark, you piece of shit! Open the door!”

“Bucky!” you cried pathetically, still attempting to remove your clothes even though all that remained was your t-shirt and underwear. Bucky didn’t immediately rush back to you as he removed his jacket, giving him more freedom to swing his metal arm back and punch his way through the bedroom door, but all it did was bend; it still wouldn’t open.

“Fuck!” Bucky shouted, seething with unending rage as he rushed back to your side, helping to pull the shirt over your head. “Christ Doll, your skin is warmer than mine. Come on, I’m going to carry you to the bathroom; we need to cool you down”.

Bucky carefully carried you to your en suite bathroom in the same bridal style as before. He tried not to grunt at how warm your body was against his flesh arm as he carefully placed you into the bath, but as he tried to move away to turn on the shower, you screamed out, grabbing onto his arm to keep him close.

“Don’t leave me; it feels good to have you close, please!” Bucky frowned, not entirely understanding what you meant, as surely his higher-running body temperature didn’t feel good when you were burning up so significantly.

“I need to turn the shower on. I’ll be two seconds, and I’ll be back, I promise”, he explained and then didn’t wait for your response as he pried your nimble fingers off your bicep. As soon as some of him didn’t touch your skin, the symptoms worsened.

Bucky flinched at the pitch and volume of how you screamed. He scrambled to reach over the bathtub to switch on the shower head high above the wall and hastily turned the temperature down until cold water was running out.

“Sweetheart, you need to move further under the water; please work with me here. You’ll feel better, you just need to move for me”.

Your whole body was shaking with such force that you found it difficult to suck in air as the heat of your skin was the last of your worries. The pain in your abdomen had turned into pure agony, and if you were to describe it, it was almost like you were cramping, waves of stabbing pain but exaggerated to a level that made it impossible to breathe, think, or even want to survive. It was so severe that you couldn’t hear what Bucky was begging because you were desperate to try and hold your abdomen as it would in some way ease the pain, but not only this, your body was reacting in an extreme way to try and fight the unknown sensation coursing through your veins.

As if to relieve the cramps, your cunt produced an obscene amount of fluid to the point that it was dripping out of your hole and pooling beneath where you sat. If Bucky turned off the shower, you’d probably appear just as wet with how much of your juices were coming out.

“Fuck this”, Bucky whispered under his breath as he failed to get you to move by yourself. Awkwardly, due to the limited space, Bucky climbed into the bath, hoisting you forward to sit behind you and force your body further under the cold water. This, in turn, means that he began to get soaked, including the tactical gear he still wore on his legs, his combat boots and the black t-shirt. He didn’t care though, not when you were deteriorating so significantly.

Bucky put it down to the water, but as soon as he was in the bathtub, his body pressed against yours and arms wrapped around your waist so that the bare skin of his arm and metal touched yours, the screams reduced to stuttering whimpers.

Your head rested back on his shoulder, out of the way of the flowing water, but as your forehead turned and met his chin, you turned further to nuzzle closer.

“More”, you whispered, fingers digging into his forearms to hold him closer.

Bucky readjusted your body so that it sat fully between his thighs. “More what, Doll?” he asked gently, his thumb rubbing in circles along your rib cage. It was only now that he contemplated that you were in your underwear, but it was an emergency, even though some part of him deep down was awakening in some deep-seated emotions he’d been trying to keep locked away.

For the first time since you’d been in pain, you responded to his voice by turning your head slightly but only to rest your lips against his neck. “More!” It was like a siren was sounding through your mind, and the sensation of Bucky’s skin against yours was quietening it to a soft buzz; even the cramping had eased somewhat to a dull ache.

Bucky frowned, confused by your demands, but he squeezed his arms around you further, deciding that maybe it was the comfort that was helping you.

“It hurts”, you sobbed against his neck, “wanna feel more of your skin”.

“My…my skin?” Bucky asked, completely confused by your request and deciding that you’d probably entered the delirious stage of whatever illness you were experiencing.

“Mr Barnes? Are you there?” came a voice from the speakers in the ceiling.

“JARVIS? Is help coming?” Bucky asked with hope pleading in his voice.

“No, sorry, Mr Barnes, but we have an update. It seems that Mr Odinson has read through some of the markings found in the footage taken from the lab. The mist sprayed was, in fact, from Asgardian origin. Mr Odinson informs me that it is most likely planted there by Mr Laufeyson as a trick he has played many times in their lifetime.”

A prank? It sure didn’t look like a prank with the way you were trembling and crying in Bucky’s arms. “So what the hell is it? How do we stop this from getting any worse?”

“This is of a delicate matter, Mr Barnes, so forgive me. Mr Odinson informs me that the chemicals used in the mist are an aphrodisiac used during specific parties in Asgard to increase the user's arousal. Still, due to the amount of time that this substance had been left in this hydra facility, it has caused the ingredients to age and the symptoms to increase in intensity. However, Mr Odinson has reassured me that the symptoms should reduce if you were to consummate”.

Bucky was speechless as he looked down at your precious, unwell body in his arms. “You can’t be fucking serious”, he’d meant to shout, but all that came out was a doubtful whisper. “What would happen if we left her? Would the symptoms lessen? She doesn’t seem to be in as much pain when touching my skin”.

“Unfortunately, after some time, the symptoms will reduce. The chemicals used are designed to last as long as possible, and as they are all out of date, Mr Odinson is unsure how long this may last, but with her vitals as abnormal as they are now, it is unwise to leave her. Mr Stark has suggested that if you cannot fulfil the role of consummation, then he would find someone who could”.

Bucky’s reaction to Stark's comment was to shout in rage, and he could picture him now smiling at his sarcastic comment. There was no way he was letting anyone else touch you. “What if she doesn’t want that? I’m not touching her if she doesn’t want-”

“I do”, you gasp whilst still resting your face on his neck, calming your cries enough that you could hear JARVIS. “I want it so bad; I need the pain to go away. Please help me Bucky”.

Whether it was the way that you begged him for the intimate act or the thought of potentially what was happening, Bucky regretted to say that his cock twitched in the confines of his underwear as he sat up further. “Sweetheart, do you understand what’s being asked? To do this-”

“I want you to touch me, Bucky; I don’t need to tell you how long I’ve wanted this. I know you know how I feel, but please, I can’t feel like this anymore; it hurts everywhere”.

Bucky’s eyes glazed over. All the time of knowing you, he had somewhat of an inkling of the shared feelings. Still, it was firstly unprofessional of him to act on any feelings, but his self-conscious bias of being undeserved of love due to his past as the Winter Soldier stopped him further.

However, now, you were led out before him, ready to live the dreams and fantasies he’d been stuck on for so long, but what’s worse was the pain you were experiencing. It seemed he took too long to answer as he could feel the shift of the heat radiating from you once more.

Your back arched as your fingers delved between your legs, cupping your mound as the pain increased; this time, it wasn’t just the cramps but also white-hot tingles beginning in your clit, over every little sensitive nerve that ran throughout your core.

“Please help me!” you cried, tears lining your eyes.

Bucky had to decide then and there if he would potentially watch you suffer with unimaginable pain or help in the only possible way. He’d agreed, had from the second Jarvis had suggested it, knowing that he couldn’t lose you.

Sitting up slightly, Bucky reached behind his head to pull the black t-shirt off and onto the floor, the wet material squelching on impact. With his chest bare and kissing the skin of your back, you sighed in relief, but the throbbing between your thighs didn’t cease.

“Off, I need these off!” you referred to your underwear, the bra and panties restraining the areas that hurt you the most. Using his metal hand, bucky quickly tore through both garments and discarded them onto the floor to join his shirt.

The sound of relief that you made caused his heart to beat with a more affectionate rhythm as he looked down at your now naked body. The shower continued to coat you with cool water that glistened off you. Your nipples were the first thing that he noticed, impossibly hard and aching to be touched, and it seemed he was reading your mind as you grabbed his metal hand and used it to cup the squishy mound, directing his thumb and forefinger to pinch the sensitive nub.

You released a heavenly cry, back arching and thighs clamping shut at the lightest of touches. With his warm hand, he did the same to your other breast as he carefully squished both in his palms before rolling your nipples between his fingers.

“Yes! Feels so good, just like that”, you beg, eyes still shut, but your head had rolled back onto his shoulder, giving him the space to respond to his desire of gently kissing the column of your throat. Even this sparked more moans from you, needing to feel the plumpness of his lips, needing the electrical tingles that came from his touches to continue.

The kisses were soft, like he was scared to touch you, but as your sounds of pure elation continued, so did his confidence as his mouth opened, applying wet, open-mouth kisses to your skin.

As if on instinct, responding to these touches, your hips began to rotate, pushing down harder against his groin until Bucky was moaning in pleasure.

“More, touch me more”. Bucky responded to your demands by smoothing his flesh hand down your abdomen, feeling the skin taunt, reacting to him. He moved over your mound as he watched closely from over your shoulder. This was when he felt it, the wetness that was continuing to be produced and pour out of your cunt. Even though the shower was still coating you, the substance was different, verging on feeling slimy, more slippy and seemed to cover everywhere from the waist down.

Bucky contemplated licking his fingers to taste you, especially as his mouth filled with saliva with the need pulsing through him. Still, it wasn’t about him, so he continued lower until his fingertips were parting your labia.

The second his middle finger stroked your clit, it seemed a wild animal took over you like you knew how close you were to receiving what you truly wanted but not quite going at the speed you wanted.

One flick of his middle finger against your swollen, throbbing clit was all you allowed before you were turning in his arms, pushing his arms away momentarily as you raised onto weak knees.

“Need you now. I can’t wait; it hurts so much Bucky”. As you explained your reasonings, your shaking fingers were reaching for the waist of his tactical trousers, trying to undo the belt but grunting when you struggled to do so. Bucky thankfully helped you then, ignoring the evident trembling in his fingers from all of the adrenaline as he unfastened his belt, button and zipper.

With this new freedom, you were able to reach inside the space and grasp his hard dick, pulling it out of the confines of his clothes. You marvelled at it for a single second, enjoying the softness of the skin but the firmness of the shaft, the bulging veins and tip that was bulbous and aching to be stroked. It was like your prize, your pot of gold at the end of the tunnel, and you needed it inside of you right that moment.

Seeing and hearing your desperation to be as quick as possible, as the cramps continued to pulse through your abdomen, Bucky quickly grabbed your hips, pulling you over his lap to straddle him, even with the awkwardness of the squished space in the bathtub.

Your hands rested on his shoulders as you lowered yourself. Neither you nor Bucky had ever experienced anything like it. The agony catapulting through your veins completely shifted to one of pleasure, like a switch had been flicked throughout your body as you took inch after inch of his delicious cock. Bucky, on the other hand, was having to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from cumming, but he did moan in an animalistic way. He’d never been inside a cunt that was so perfect before, so deliciously warm and unnaturally soaked; you squeezed his cock in pulses that he soon realised was the thump of your heart.

“That’s it, you’re taking me so well.” Bucky couldn’t help but praise, wrapping his arms around your back to provide further support.

As your body naturally seemed to adjust to the size of his cock, you didn’t waste any time before beginning to ride him with the help of Bucky’s strong arms.

The shower still coated you both in refreshing cold water for the heat, devouring the two of you. Bucky is still wearing his tactical trousers and boots, and you are completely nude and riding him like your life depended on it. Well, it did, in a way.

Up and down, you bounced, your tits jumping on your chest, which caused your pebbled nipples to rub against his, giving extra stimulation. You were so incredibly out of breath with the momentum of fucking him, but you didn’t stop, only occasionally softening the bouncing to a soft roll which always caused Bucky to moan and squeeze the cheeks of your arse together.

In no time at all, you were finding your peak, cunt pulsing dangerously tightly around his cock as you came, face hiding on his shoulder as you slumped against him for a second. Bucky thought this would be over, that he would have to carry you to bed and hope you felt better soon, but then he began to feel the wetness flowing around his cock and the throb returning. Shortly after, you were whimpering.

“It hurts again, please Bucky, I need you again”.

Bucky didn’t need telling twice as he thrust his hips up to snap into yours, causing your delicious moan to echo around the room. He needed to hear it again, so he repeated the action, but it was difficult to find any sort of leverage in this position, so with his metal arm positioned beneath your arse, he supported your weight and stood. His boots were now the objects to be squelching as he moved towards the shower wall.

There, he pushed your back against it and began to fuck you with deep, fast penetrations. Your head fell back against the tiles, nails digging into the skin of his shoulder blades as you didn’t want this pleasure to end.

“Harder, Bucky fuck me harder!” you cried out, knowing he was still holding back. Bucky grunted, shifting so that both of his hands were beneath your arse cheeks, holding you more securely so that he could fuck you without any restraint.

Each thrust had you almost blacking out; they felt so good. The tip of his cock smashing into your cervix, which any other time would have potentially hurt, but for now, it was just what you needed.

You came again, spluttering and quivering from your mouth and cunt as he helped you over the edge. However, once more, the pains returned.

Bucky had once thought that his increased libido due to the super serum was a hindrance, but for the only time in his life, he was thanking whatever asshole had experimented on him for this moment.

His trousers and boots had been removed as he had carried your dripping body out of the shower when he realised your temperature remained low if he was fucking you. Into the bedroom, he continued his impressive and thorough fucking. Pushed onto the bed on all fours, in the spooning position, even missionary, and he wouldn’t change positions until you were a cumming bumbling mess. Wherever he decided to bend you over, it was always him on top; your legs were shaking too much to support your weight anymore, but he didn’t mind, not when he could take full control and draw orgasm after orgasm from you.

After god knows how many orgasms, Bucky finally couldn’t edge himself anymore and came with a gruff moan against your collarbone from where he lay over you, his seed seeping into your swollen hole, warming and massaging internally. This finally seemed to settle you, like it was the one missing ingredient your body needed, as you slumped onto the bed without any more cries of pain.

Bucky collapsed next to you, pulling your exhausted, limp body on top of his, your face resting on his chest as you both tried to calm your breathing.

He thought you’d fallen asleep, but then your face was tilting up to look at his, which, in turn, he looked down to look at yours. Even though you looked thoroughly exhausted, he could see that you were beginning to return to your usual self as you smiled so gently that it caused his heart to beat harder. Something you could hear as your ear rested over his heart. Tilting your head up further, your lips caressed his before Bucky could contemplate what you were doing.

The kiss was light and delicate, and it finally dawned on Bucky that this was the first kiss shared between the two of you, having been so distracted with fucking your brains out that he thought kissing would be too intimate. Neither of you said anything, just continued to smile before sleep finally captured your conscious minds.

[a-pute11as]

Magic Touch

warnings - MNDI 18+ suggestive

words - 1434

“Again?” you huff for the third time, as you lay face down on the floor as play continued around you. You had been purposely tripped up, multiple times. You could hear your teammates around calling for play to stop, however considering this ref had a personal vendetta against you, you know it’s no use so you’re quick to get back up and brush yourself off even when the opposition player had now committed several clear fouls against you. 

You continued to play, actively avoiding the player who had given you a hard time for the past 60 minutes of play. Every minute that ticked on made your anger build. 

A corner was awarded in Barca’s favour allowing Alexia a few moments to catch up with you, she knew you inside and out which meant she knew exactly how you felt in the moment.

“Dios mios, she better not touch you again, estás bien?” She asked, taking hold of your shoulders and inspecting you thoroughly. You nodded in response, not wanting to verbalise how angry the situation had made you, knowing if you started complaining about the obvious mistreatment then you probably wouldn’t stop. 

“I’ll make sure this ref doesn’t step foot onto a pitch ever again” She added, her obvious over-protective side taking over, the anger was evident on her face.

You shook your head, “No Ale, it’s okay, she’s doing her job” You sighed, moving yourself into position for the corner, trying your best to ignore the anger that was coursing through your body. 

Luckily you were positioned well allowing the ball to come off your head, straight to the feet of Pina who was able to angle the ball through the crowd of defenders and right into the back of the net. The goal had given you a chance to breathe, Barca was already 3-0 but being able to earn an assist allowed a moment of relief where you felt as if you had done something right during your time on the pitch. 

You celebrated with your team, everyone bounding into a group hug that nearly knocked both you and Pina off your feet. You were congratulated with a round of pats on the top of your head before Ale found you. 

“Even when you’re being fucked, you’re still a superstar” She whispered, as she held your face with both hands and beamed down towards you. Even if the duration of the game had left you frustrated, angry and straight up pissed off, Ale always found a way to make you feel seen and valued. “Mi superestrella”, she added, placing a kiss on your forehead before running back to her position to restart play. 

Running off the temporary euphoria from your assist you felt as if you were finally able to show what you were capable of, yet it wasn’t long until you were back on the floor.

This time the player had committed a clear foul that was very much in need of a yellow card, you were both floored and she was rolling with her knee in her hands. You laid on the floor with your hands gripping at your head as the pain grew every time you breathed. 

“Are you okay?” Ingrid said, kneeling down at your side. There was a gash across your cheekbone that had begun to trickle with blood. All you could do was nod as the sting overtook your senses. 

Out of the side of your eyes you watched as the ref held up a yellow card and pointed it towards you. Alexia had been truly aggravated, as the captain, her previous calls for the player to be fouled should’ve been paid attention to, yet the ref completely disregarded her words. You heard Alexia arguing with the ref and the player that had floored you, she continuously insisted that the ref had allowed multiple fouls against you and that a yellow card was beyond ridiculous. The argument had preoccupied the ref so much that she didn’t bother to call over the medics waiting on the side.

You steadied yourself enough to get up, much to the protest of your teammates around you. Even though the world was slightly spinning, you needed to stand up for yourself. The attention was quickly turned on you as Alexia’s eyes flashed with worry. The throbbing pain throughout your face didn’t stop you from arguing with the official in front of you. A few curse words later, another yellow card was swung up into your direction, quickly followed by a red card. You had never meant to take it that far, but the anger you felt was quick to release and the cut across your face only fuelled that, you were treated unfairly and you wanted to make that clear. 

Your eyes pricked with tears as you marched yourself off the pitch, clutching your cheek as you went straight down the tunnel, unaware of the scene that was still unfolding behind you. Multiple of your teammates continued arguing with the ref, to the point where Alexia was pulled away by Irene and Patri was also given a yellow card. 

The game continued and as soon as full time hit, Alexia raced down the tunnel to find you, she had no intention of stopping for any reason. You were sat on the bench in the locker room with your head in your hands, tears stained down your face, your breath heavy and fast and a gauze covering the cut. 

“Amor, are you okay?” Alexia asked, kneeling down in-front of you, her hands resting on top of yours. 

“I’m sorry ale, I’m so bad at this and I know you’re so disappointed, I can’t believe I got that red card, it was stupid and reckless and I shouldn’t have started swearing, fuck, I know i’ll be back on the bench again and I’ll get dropped from the England squad. I can’t believe i’ve fucked up this bad” The words split out of your mouth as your rambling started and refused to end, your anxiety was through the roof as your mind was running at a 100 miles per hour and you couldn’t figure out how to slow it down. “I’m so sorry, I am so so fucking sorry ale” You added, tears now spilling out of your eyes again.

“Carino, listen to me, i’m not disappointed in you at all, you did nothing wrong” She tilted your head up so your eyes would meet. “Nothing like that will happen, it’s one or two games that you’ll miss and then you’ll be back like nothing ever happened” She continued to reassure you as your breathing slowed down and the tears stopped flowing from your eyes. 

“I feel so shit” You sighed, your breathing returning to normal. The whole situation had made you numb.

Alexia took a second to think before a slight smirk appeared on her face, “Let me make you feel better”.

“Babe, I don’t know” You sighed. 

“You know I can make you feel so…” She ran her hands up the outside of your thighs painfully slow, “so much better”. 

You contemplated it, you knew ale had a magic touch, and it certainly did make you feel better. 

“Let me show you how good I can make you feel, I can make you forget about all of this” Her hands sat on the tops of your thighs as her fingers traced patterns over your skin. “You can show me just how good you are for me, can’t you?” She questioned, one hand reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. 

You couldn’t help but nod in response, the effect she had on you was massive and that was all you needed to hear to make you weak at the knees and you’d most likely end up on your knees too. 

“Let’s go home?” She suggested, rising to her feet and holding her hand out for you to take. 

“What about your post-match stuff?” You asked, your face scrunched up, hesitant to take her hand in case you were about to take her away from something important that she was actually required to do. 

“Nothing is more important to me right now than making you feel better” She smirked, “And i’m sure they’d all understand”.

You took her hand, rising to your feet and swinging your bag over your arm as she led you out of the stadium and straight to her car. You had a very overprotective alexia on your hands and one that was determined to make you forget about the mess that occurred on the pitch.