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coldfanbou · 1 month ago

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In Heat

Here we go! So I ended up going with the winner of the poll...mostly because where I live also went through a heat wave, so yeah. Anyway, here we are with some hot and heavy stepcest action...literally and figuratively

Length 2.8K

Eunbi X Mreader

Life was very hard right now, despite everything you and your family tried. The heat wave running through the area was unbearable in its own right. What made it worse was having to watch your stepmother walking around the house in her bikinis, day after day, she would be around in them. Her heavy bust had nearly spilled out more than a handful of times as she moved around the house. You could hardly look at her; you would get hard in seconds, staring at her perfectly shaped body. You didn’t say anything, though; it wasn’t your place, either, considering this was her home, too. Still it was a problem you couldn’t so much as leave your room without catching a glimpse of her bending over to pic something up, showing that perfect ass of hers off.

You had dreams about her, about your father’s wife. You wanted Eunbi. She was absolutely beautiful, and those bikinis she wore left little to the imagination.

You peeked out of your room, and with no Eunbi insight, you went to the kitchen, hoping to get something cold to drink. As you searched through the fridge, you heard her. “Honey? Can you get me something to drink, too?” Honey, that’s what Eunbi called you. It was weird enough to hear her call you, considering she was only a little bit older than you. Add in the fact that she was also your stepmother, and it was weirder. That being said, knowing that she had called out to you, you grab a bottle of water for her and head toward the living room.

Walking in, you see her in another bikini. Eunbi was lying on the floor, sweat running down her face and legs, just as slick from the sweating she was doing. You paused, taking in the sight before you, Eunbi had her legs spread, you could just see the blue of her bikini bottoms poking out from under the white skirt she had on. Her breasts were bulging out of the top of her bikini top. You were getting hard quickly, and it would be tough if she spotted that. You shake your head and walk over to her, placing the bottle beside her before turning on your heel, ready to walk out. “Honey,” you pause, hoping she didn’t see your bulge. “Do you think your father is going to come home soon?”

You breathe a sigh of relief, “I don’t know Eunbi. He always goes on these sorts of trips. Sometimes he comes back in a day or two, and other times it’s like a month.” You say honestly.

“Right,” Eunbi responds, dejected. “I knew he would be gone for work a lot, but I didn’t think it would be this lonely. Do you want to play a game? I could use the company.” There was a hint of hopelessness in her voice, and as much as you didn’t want to be in the same room with her for fear of her seeing your bulge. You also felt bad for her. You saw the relationship they had firsthand, you heard about how your father would stop his trips and finally settle down again, but since the wedding, he’s been gone more than ever. You understood how Eunbi must feel, being told one thing but then getting the opposite.

“Sure, what kind of game did you have in mind?” You turn around, sitting as quickly as possible, trying to avoid staring at Eunbi’s heavy chest. You focus on her face, seeing a slight smile form as you accept the invitation.

Eunbi purses her lips as she considers what game to play. She rolls onto her stomach, crawling over to the TV stand, searching through the drawers. You can’t help but stare at her ass, it shakes from side to side as she looks. It was shapely, and your imagination runs wild. You imagine what it must be like to take her from behind, feeling what must be the soft piece of flesh pressing against you as you drive yourself deep into her.

Eunbi kneels, finding a game she thinks would be good for the two of you. She turns herself around and places the box in front of you, Jenga. “This should be a little fun.” She says, a slight smile on her lips. She lifts the box and begins setting up the game, block by block. “It’s been so hot, hasn’t it?” She says, her eyes glued to the growing structure.

“Yeah, it’s been pretty hot.”

“I’ve had to wear my bikinis in the house. It’s insane we don’t have air conditioning; these fans aren’t helping either. Eunbi sticks her tongue out, focusing intently on the tower, making sure no piece sticks out. Sweat moves down her neck, running between her heavy mounds. Your thoughts go wild again as you imagine lapping up the sweat between her tits, the moans she would make a response fill your ears for a moment. Your cock twitches as you think about it. You shake your head and push the idea out.

Eunbi finishes setting up the game and looks up at you, noticing where your eyes were. A slight blush moves across her face. “The game's ready. Do you want to go first?”

“Uh, no, you should go first. You set it up.”

“Okay,” Eunbi looks at the tower and nudges a piece from the very bottom, pushing it out slowly until she’s able to reach around and pull it out. The shake shakes slightly, but there isn’t a threat of it falling yet. Switching to your turn, Eunbi eyes you while you focus on the game. She scans you up and down, noticing the bulge in your shorts. More than shock, there was intrigue. Whether it was because of the heat messing with her mind or loneliness, Eunbi felt a pang in her chest. She squeezed her legs together and stared at the outline in your shorts. “Bigger,” she thought to herself, biting her lip.

“There we go,” you call out, grabbing the piece you pulled out.

Eunbi shifts her focus onto the game. She leans forward, giving you a look into the valley between her mounds. She only realizes what she is doing as she glances at you, noting how much you are staring at her chest. She pulls another block out, placing it back on the top of the tower.

It was back to you. The game continued with both of you staring at the other when it wasn’t your turn. The desire each of you held for the other was growing. Eunbi, at one point, had removed her skirt, saying it was getting uncomfortable. It was difficult to concentrate with Eunbi in her bikini before, but now that you had an unblocked view of her shapely legs, it was another beast entirely. Eunbi noticed your cock twitch as you stared at her body. Seeing the reaction pleased her. She was craving more, her mind began to imagine how big you were, and it was getting her wet. Still, you both played on piece by piece, and the tower became more unstable.

The tower was becoming unstable, threatening to fall over at any moment. “How about we make this a little more fun?” Eunbi asks, a teasing smile on her face.

You wonder what she means, “More fun?”

“Yeah, interesting might be a better word. How about the loser takes off a piece of their clothing?” She says boldly, almost confident that she would win.

“I- that’s kind of…”

“Are you afraid you might lose to your mommy?” Eunbi teases, sticking her tongue out at you.

“Okay, you’re on.” You reply, your competitive spirit stirring in response. You watch the tower intently. It was a mess of missing pieces, the middle pieces almost completely gone. You spot your target, though, one section already had one of the edge pieces taken, you would take the other, leaving a single middle piece to hold up the tower. You make slight taps to the piece, nudging it out of place before tugging it out and carefully placing it back on top.

It was Eunbi’s turn. She glanced at you before turning her eyes to the tower. “You know I haven’t lost a game in a long time.” Eunbi wasn’t after a win, at least not in this game. She picked her spot, going for something risky. She licked her lips, waiting for what came next. Looking at the level where you just took a piece, Eunbi was going to “attempt” to flick the last piece out, getting rid of one level entirely. The confident look on her face had you convinced she’d be able to do it. Eunbi’s smirk faded as she smacked her hand against the block. The tower fell down one level, shaking before it collapsed. It was all going to plan. She sighed at the loss and placed her hands on her bikini top. “I guess I lost.” Without any sort of hesitancy she tugged at the bottom of her bikini top, her tits bouncing in their confines before she finally brought it over her mounds and released them. You were stunned, unable to look away from her perfect breasts as they bounced in front of you, a slick and glistening mess from all her sweat. Your cock was harder than ever. “A deal is a deal.” She said, twirling the bikini top around her finger. “Are you proud of looking at your mommy’s tits? Hmm?”

You couldn’t speak or do anything—the sight before you completely envelops you. Eunbi chuckles and bounces, so her tits shake and jiggle for you. “Well? What do you think? Want to touch them?” Eunbi said, pressing the issue. She crawls toward you and takes your hand, bringing it close to her chest. “Do you?” She pauses, her thumb running across your palm. “Do you want to touch mommy’s tits? Because there’s something I want too.” Eunbi places her hand on your crotch, moving her hand along your clothed bulge. You gulp, never expecting to be in this situation. You don’t even notice your hand moving forward, until you feel her soft tits rubing against your palm. Eunbi bites her lip, containing her moan before smiling. She reaches into your shorts, her bare hand wrapping around your shaft.

“E-eunbi,” you groan.

“Shh, Honey, I need you.” Eunbi leans in, pressing her lips against yours. “I know it’s wrong, but it's been so long and seeing you so hard…” You will weaken, and you return the kiss, your hand squeezing Eunbi’s breast as she pushes you onto your back. Your hand slide down her sides, sliding underneath her bikini bottom as you grab her ass, fingers digging into her soft flesh. Eunbi moans into the kiss, allowing your tongue to explore her mouth.

Nothing can stop either of you. Eunbi wanted you with her entire being. Her hand moved along your shaft quickly. She pulls your shorts down with her other hand, springing your cock free. She glances down, eyes widening for a second as she sees your size. The shock is replaced by satisfaction; you are bigger than your father, just as she had thought. Her hand squeezeds your cock, making your grunt and drawing a bit of precum out of you.

You release your grip on Eunbi’s cheeks and move out, grabbing the sides of her bikini bottom and pulling them down. Eunbi kicks them off on you get them to her knees and sits on your pelvis, your cock rubbing against her slick folds. “I can’t wait any longer, Honey,” Eunbi moans. She rises and aligns herself with your cock sinking onto it in an instant. It’s a shock to your system just as it is for Eunbi’s. You both throw your heads back, whether it was finally getting the release you both wanted, the taboo of fucking your family, or something else you both came at that moment. Eunbi’s body tingled as she felt your cum shoot inside her. She had forgotten what it felt like, and she wanted more.

Eunbi grinded against you at first, rocking back and forth causing your cock to rub against her walls but her body wanted more. She placed her hands on your chest and squatted over your, slowly rising before slamming herself back down onto your cock. “Keep going, Eunbi,” you groan, holding onto her waist and guiding her along your shaft as you thrust into her. You watch her tits bounce as she gets into a rhythm, sweat running down her body. You lean up, sticking your tongue out and running it between her heavy tits, lapping up her salty sweat before moving over to one of her nipples.

“Oh, wait baby,” Eunbi moans as she feels your mouth surround her sensitive nipple, your tongue swirling around the hard nub as you suck on her tit. Eunbi cries out from the pleasure, her moans getting louder as you switch to the other breast.

She continues to ride you, her body growing weaker as you both move closer to another orgasm. “Eunbi,” you grunt. That was enough to tell her you were getting close, even if you hadn’s said a word she would’ve figured it out sooner or later, your cock was throbbing inside her again. Eunbi had to give up her squat position and ride you normally, giving you the position to grab her waist and thrust into her for the final few moments before you both were taken to heaven, rocked by intense orgasms. Eunbi collapses on top of you, breathing heavily. You tilt her head and kiss her. Your sweaty bodies felt like they were melding together.

“That was amazing,” she says breathlessly.

“I can keep going, at least once more.” Eunbi nods and gets ready to ride again. “No, I want you from behind.” You lift the young woman, moving her beside you. Eunbi lies flat on the floor, her strength gone from the previous two orgasms. Just as well you had always imagined fucking Eunbi into the ground. You run your hands along her body, stopping at her ass and giving each cheek a squeeze. “You have no idea how much I’ve thought of this, Eunbi,” you whisper into her before aligning with her cunt. You push yourself back into the welcoming hole, stretching out your stepmothers pussy, pushing your cum out of her as you go deeper.

“Deeper, baby. Make me cum again.” Eunbi feels your body weight against her as you push deeper. Her eyes twitch in their half-lidded state. Fully buried inside your stepmom you pull out and slam yourself back in, your pelvis pressing against her soft ass. The experience was better than you had imagined. You lost yourself nearly instantly, beginning to thrust into Eunbi like a wild beast. “Fuck! Fuck me! Fuck your dirty mommy!” Eunbi screamed. You snaked your hands under her waist, lifting her ass up and giving yourself a better angle. You slam into her ass with every thrust, both of your minds melting into nothing as claim Eunbi. You hold Eunbi up with one hand, using the other to her clit, pressing it and making her get closer to cumming. Eunbi roars as the pleasure floods her body, she backs her ass into you, wanting you deeper as your cum spills out of her onto the floor. “Oh fuck!”

Eunbi curls her toes as she’s rocked by another orgasm, her entire body shakes before collapsing onto the floor with you on top of her, your cock buried inside her tight cunt, filling her with another load of your semen. You rest on top of Eunbi for a moment before rolling off of her. Your cum pours out of her staining the hardwood. Neither of you cares, though; the experience was like nothing else. Your bodies desire more, and if it weren’t for the exhaustion, the two of you would’ve continued to go at it like rabbits.

You don’t know how much time passes before your strength returns and you're finally able to get up. Eunbi was in the same position. As you both get to your feet, you look at each other, wanting nothing more than to have sex again. Your body is tingling with excitement. Eunbi reaches out and grabs your cock, her hands rubbing the creamy mess. “I want you to ruin me every day. We can’t tell your father about this, but just know that I am all yours.” You tilt her head back and kiss her. Eunbi raises her leg to your side, and pushes your cock back inside her warm cunt.

You spend every moment you can with Eunbi from morning to night, the two of you revel in each other’s bodies, having sex all over the house, marking each space as somewhere you’ve done it. Even when your father comes back, you find a way to sneak in a few rounds, but the time apart fuels your need for each other, and the moment he leaves for another trip, you claim his wife.

#kpop smut #male reader #m reader #eunbi smut #izone smut

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grimmsbride · 3 months ago

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big flirt …. ! ₊ཾִ ᖫྀ ⁣⁣.

mark grayson ╲ the almighty invincible has no problem showing his lovely girlfriend how beautiful she truly is..

𖥔 ࣪˖ author’s notes⠀⎯ the way mark canonically likes woman of all sizes just does something to me. he took one look at eve and truly dngaf about her size 😭. as always please enjoy this fic and excuse any grammar mistakes

You hated the internet. The way people crawled from their little depths of hell, fingers slamming into whatever keyboard they could find; typing hatred laced with the most obvious passive aggression that made you want to vomit.

You thought superheroes would be exempt from such scrutiny, maybe they people realize hey, these people save my life on a daily basis— maybe i should cut them some slack! But no, of course such a case was nothing more than wishful thinking.

Posts upon posts of blatant disrespect always collected in some random corner on the web, you unfortunately coming across most of them the moment you searched your super-hero name.

While some posts were.. okay, others were just downright horrible.

Your finger slid across the mouse, the page that shined on your features sliding with the action. A grimace collected on your face as your eyes took in the words before you;

Does she need a bigger suit?

There’s no way she works out everyday. I swear she was at least a little smaller last time she appeared on a camera.

I know the saying, “a camera adds extra pounds” but.. I don’t think we can blame the camera anymore!

You shouldn’t let those words get to you. You were a woman of honor, a superhero praised for your efforts and respected amongst the your peers. And after all, it was all just internet strangers hiding behind their screens. They didn’t personally affect you.

Still, you couldn’t help but feel that familiar trickle of shame filled warmth slide down your spine— pooling deep in your stomach. That was the downside of being a hero— scratch that, a woman being a hero; always on display, and always judged so, so harshly.

You were stolen from your thoughts the moment a hand suddenly shut your laptop, another gripping the chair you currently sat in and spinning it around. Quickly your gaze settled upon your beloved boyfriend, Mark Grayson. So caught up in your self-loathing, you nearly forgot he was over on a rare day off, having just showered — curtesy of the towel around his bare shoulders, and the droplets of water amongst his hair.

You gave a nervous smile, quickly spotting that little furrow of his eyebrows. The man wasn’t one to get irritated with you, but when he did— it wasn’t a pretty sight.

“Enjoy your sh—“

“I thought I said to stop looking at stuff like that.” Mark murmured softly, releasing your chair and rising, grasping the towel on his shoulders to dry his hair. You watched, a little too greedily; taking in the way his arms flexed with the movement, toned stomach on display as the sweats he wore hung on his waist so loosely.

“It’s just stupid people online.”

His next words eliminated your perverted thoughts quickly, a sigh soon escaping you as you leaned back into the chair.

“I know.” You breathed, eyes traveling to the side for a moment. “It’s just.. no one ever talks about anything else. I know I’m a little big—“

“Quit saying that too.”

Mark interrupted you with ease, tossing the towel he had to the side before moving to his knees. His hands rose, warm and large, covering your bare thighs before sliding up to your waist. The man rested his cheek upon your flesh, playing with the fabric of your shirt.

“You’re perfect. You don’t need to change a thing.”

You couldn’t help the cheeky smile pulling your lips, eyes even rolling as your hand fell to tangle into his damp hair, “Mark, you’re supposed to say that. You’re my boyfriend, after all.” You giggled, feeling the way his fingers tightened just a bit in response.

Mark turned to rest his chin onto your thigh, chocolate pools focusing on you entirely. “That may be true. And I’ll say it as many times as you need me to.”

“Cheesy..”

It was his turn to grin, hands trailing down to your thighs once again, pressing his fingers into the warm flesh.

“But.. that didn’t only start when we started dating. I always thought you were perfect beforehand too.”

With a turn of his wrist, Mark began to ghost the underside of your thighs, watching the way you twitched at the tickling sensation. Your hips adjusted, glancing down at the man through your lashes;

“Really?”

“Really.”

You gasped the moment he grabbed your thighs tightly, easily lifting you from the chair whilst bringing himself to his feet. Instinctively your arms wrapped around his neck, feeling his hands travel to cup your ass, holding your body flush against his own.

“You know..” Mark spoke lowly, leading himself backwards until he sat on your bed. There, his legs spread, hands pressed down on your hips so you wouldn’t even think about raising off his lap. He looked at you intently, thumb breaching the edge of your shirt to glide across your skin; tracing a stretch mark etched into the flesh.

“I was always obsessed with you.. Your name, your smell, your, “ His eyes carried down your form, “—body. I didn’t know a person could be as perfect as you.”

“Mark..” You begun, whimpering the moment his fingers clenched, rolling his hips just to buck up into you. The growing bulge underneath his sweats nudged against your barely veiled center so perfectly, making your body grow just a bit hotter.

“There were some nights,” The man continued as if listing off a grocery list, as casual as ever, all while continuing to roll his hips every once in a while just to hear you whine. “—I would lay in bed, unable to sleep because you were on my mind.”

You wanted, no needed him to be quiet. He’s barely touched you, has only spoken, yet you already felt yourself losing focus. You gasped the moment he drew closer, feeling soft lips press against the side of your face before traveling to your chin and neck.

“The only way I could even sleep was touching myself to the thought of you.”

“Mark— oh my god.”

You cried softly, feeling his hips move with more purpose, more vigor. A hand of his rose from your waist to instead collect the back of your skull, tilting you how he liked before capturing your lips in a heated kiss. The man wanted to devour you— all of you. Rid those stupid thoughts circulating your head and replace them with nothing but pleasure.

Mark breathed into your mouth, gripping your plush form as he proceeded to manually move you, rolling your hips back against his own rolling ones. He felt your cunt pressed up against him through your panties and shorts, shuddering as the dampness of your center soaked onto his sweats.

You broke apart for air, resting your forehead against his own as little moans escaped you. Your nails dragged across his exposed skin, pulling yourself even closer to him as a sweet whisper of his name fell from your lips.

Mark never allowed his eyes to leave your face, lidded yet focused on you, and only you. His lips parted, watching you, soft huffs escaping as he bucked up. He groaned at the friction, soon leading himself to lay on his back.

Your hands dragged to his stomach, pressing there as you continued to move your hips desperate for more. As delicious as it felt, it certainly wasn’t enough. You craved much more.

“Mark…” You whimpered so feebly, feeling the way his fingers twitched at the call of his name. Said fingers trailed to the waistband of your bottoms, tugging quickly.

“I know baby, I know..” The man allowed you to rise up a bit, basically shoving your lower garments off whilst you focused on pulling his own down.

Once free of the confinements Mark’s hands were finding your hips against, lining you up with his dick before slowly pushing you down. A breath escaped the both you as your walls enveloped his length, your nails dragging across his skin as you took all of him so deeply.

“Look at that, just perfect.” Mark murmured, clearly the entranced by the way your bodies connected. He couldn’t help but focus there, feeling your walls pulse around him with each breath that escaped you. His hands cupped your form, flesh filling his palms so easily— so perfectly. His eyes flicked to your face the moment you whined, watching your hands fall to his wrist.

Mark grinned a bit, seeming to innocently adjust his hips when really he bucked into you, watching your lidded eyes fly open as the sweetest gasp escaped you.

“I don’t think you get how lucky I really am, having all of you to myself.” His words were quickly overcome by the soft squelches of your pussy the moment he began to thrust up into you. Your nails dragged across his skin, a pleasured hiss escaping his lips in response. His gaze greedily lapped at the way your face screwed up in pleasure, lips parted as you moaned.

“Mark.. baby, please..”

“Yeah.. Allll to myself.”

The man giggled softly, as if delirious off your body. It wasn’t that much of a stretch really, Mark was entirely crazy about you. Those thoughts at night didn’t stop the moment you solidified your relationship, maybe they even grew.

Only now the man was lucky enough to have every single fantasy come true.

Your hips rolled as you met each thrust with your own uncoordinated rut, head knocking against your shoulders as your eyes squeezed shut. Mark fucked up into you as if you weighed nothing, and you probably didn’t to him, curtesy of the Viltrumite blood running through his veins. Your hands slipped from his wrists to instead settle upon his stomach, dragging angry red lines into his flesh.

A particularly hard thrust had you toppling over with a gasp, landing upon his chest. Mark took this opportunity to wrap his arms tightly around your waist, feet going flat on the bed as he drilled into you.

You twisted and turned, unable to run from the pleasure as he made you take every single thrust. Your cunt clenched around him, arousal trickling and forming a foamy ring around the base of his cock, a complete sticky mess. You cried out as the feeling overtook your body, intoxicating and addicting, yet so, so much. Your hand brushed against his hip, a mantra of his name escaping in sloppy speech;

“Ma..mark, baby! Pleas— please slow down..!”

“Mm.” Mark hummed defiantly, lips pressing against your face with the sweetest kisses whilst completely wrecking your body. Soft breaths fanned across your skin, his nails digging into your flesh and refusing to let go. With each thrust a wet plap bounced off the walls of your bedroom, urging him even more.

“Feel so good baby.. you were made just for me, fu—fuck what anyone else says.”

Through hurried breaths he spoke, groaning the moment he felt your cunt clenching around him with each word. A hand dragged down to your ass, gripping the warm flesh as Mark stroked that spongy spot inside.

A melodic string of moans escaped your throat, incoherent babbles that oddly enough sounded like Mark! following shortly after. Your peak was closing in, detailed in the way you shook and gasped, cunt pulsing with each movement.

Mark coaxed you through it, whispering such sweet words right into your ear, lips brushing against the shell of it. His hands gripped at your shuddering body, praising every inch, detailing several more perverse fantasies just to hear you whine from embarrassment.

Soon enough you were reaching your end, coming undone with a final sob of his name, tears pricking at your eyes from the pleasure. You felt the man kiss at your cheeks, continuing to fuck into you as he chased his own end.

“Fuckkk.. Mark..!” You keened as he fucked you through your high, wet squelches covering every inch of the room.

Mark groaned softly, tugging you flush against his form as he slammed into you, “Almost there, pretty— almost there, I got you..” A soft swear fell from his tongue, teeth dragging against his bottom lip the moment he pushed himself deep, flooding you with his come.

Pants enveloped the room as Mark laid out amongst your bed, fingers dragging up and down your spine; delighted in the way you melted into him. He simply laid still, eyes focusing on coming down whilst laying so content under you.

Soon enough you had calmed down, slowly rising to sit in his lap, hands smoothing across his body.

“You’re.. such a little pervert.” You murmured, watching the way a little flush of red spread across his face; as if truly embarrassed, as if he hadn’t just got done with fucking your brains out.

Mark rose to lean on his elbows, head tilting to rest on his shoulder as he looked up at you so lovingly.

“Yeah well.. I’m your little pervert.”

The man smiled the moment you began to giggle, eyes closing as you leaned to capture his lips. He was far too happy to wipe that previous grimace off your face with his actions.

Now to figure out who exactly made those posts about you..

#CHEMICAL KIDS fics* 𓈒 #chubby reader #black tumblr #poc writer #black reader #mark grayson #mark grayson smut #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson x reader smut #mark grayson x fem!reader #mark grayson x fem!reader smut #mark grayson x chubby reader #mark grayson x chubby reader smut

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star-suh · 3 months ago

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Boy Toy

Jung Sungchan x Male Reader

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being an idol is though work, dealing with rehearsals, learning choreos, recording songs, being in front of a lot of people, etc. but there's one specific member that has one more problem to add to all that, sungchan, who has a massive cock paired with a high libido, he started to masturbate thinking that would be enough, that worked –but only for some months– then he move on to use toys, fleshlights, cock rings, a vibrating wand or one of those silicon fleshlights shape like an ass, surprisingly this worked for him but soon it got tired for him, he wanted to try the real thing, a warm tight hole to obliterate with his huge veiny cock. man was big everywhere –height and dick size–.

but all changed one day when sungchan went to a vacation resort with his member yn, they were there to record a vlog for their youtube channel. one night yn walked out of the bathroom looking for his underwear, using the towel to just cover his dick with one hand. he looked everywhere for it – even in the floor, but didn't find them, “maybe i still have them on my bag” when he turns around he realizes sungchan was there all the time, he watched how yn cheeks opened, showing his hole when he crouched to search on the floor, “oh my god sungchan !!” he jumped surprised. they both made eye contact for a time until sungchan stroked his big bulge, “would you help me?. i need it… please” the taller one said, letting the other guy know what he wanted. sungchan is a really handsome guy and by the looks he's packing too “w-why?” yn asks. “i had fuck every toy that exists but they end up breaking apart and they're not as warm as a real one.. please just this time” he was practically begging yn to let him use his ass, “okay, but just this time”..

“fuck you’re so big” yn struggled to go down sungchan’s hard rock dick, “yeah it’s a pain in the ass sometimes, my toys constantly break” he says while guiding yn’s hips with his hands, making him go down little by little. the tight hole engulfing each inch. “you’re gonna split me in half sungchan” yn cried when he finally bottomed out. leaning backwards made a bulge to form on yn’s stomach, a bulge that sungchan touched slightly and made yn’s body to spasm a little, “holy shh-” yn gulped, “it feels funny” he hissed. “it does. stay like that a little bit” –yn complied– sungchan started to do circular motions with his point finger on top of it, drawing little whimpers out of yn’s mouth. sungchan’s hips rocking slightly due to yn squeezing him every time the sensitive bulge is touched. “i think i’m ready. you can move now”.

it started with slow thrusts, sungchan pushing his massive dick up while yn held a steady squat position, his hole being stretched continuously by such a girthy dick, he had never seen one like that before. every vein filling every crevice on yn’s insides, they accommodate perfectly to sungchan’s length. then the thrusts started to get faster and faster. “you’re better than all those toys i bought” sungchan added, lowering yn with his hands gripping the other’s hips, “ride me” he asked and yn did as he was told. first he rocked his hips front to back with the top’s length still inside him, “phew, this feels better than i thought sungchan”, “yeah i know, nothing better than a tight warm hole to hug my big dick”. yn now went up and down, making sure to always go all the way up to the tip and then slamming himself back down, balls deep. sungchan, desperate for release and more satisfaction, started to meet yn’s thrusts, smacking and wet sounds reverberating throughout the whole room. yn, now laying on the bed face down, was moaning in ecstasy, feeling how deep sungchan was capable to reach with his dick, “fuck you make me feel so good yn” sungchan purred along with grunts and pants. “why don’t you become my toy” he cheerfully asked, his dick jabbing at yn’s obliterated hole constantly, “i won’t be able… to handle that fucking cock” yn uttered, drool coming out of his mouth.

“don’t worry, you just need to practice, we will have a lot of time for that”. yn’s ass bounced every time the other made a powerful thrust that even made the bed creak a little. sungchan being cocky about his big frame he lifted the bottom from behind, folding him in half in an attempt to go even deeper, “cum with my yn please” sungchand murmured on his ear, his hot breath tickling his neck. but yn wasn’t able to comply to sungchan’s request, shortly after he resumed his thrusts yn came hands free, he couldn’t hold anymore the constant abuse his sweet spot was suffering, “i-i’m so so..rry” yn pled, “i’ll make it up to you next time sung.. chann…”, sungchan feeling disappointed threw him towards the bed, “of course you have to, but as a punishment i would be using you all night”.

the whole night went by sungchan using his strength and big dick to whore yn out to his pleasure, something about yn having a way smaller frame than him but so capable of taking his whole length send sungchan into a frenzy, he was the perfect candidate to be his personal fleshlight, “finally a toy that won’t break so easily… yet” and almost evil smirk forming in his face. loads and loads of cum oozing out of yn, sungchan wasn’t only blessed with a big dick but also with huge balls that can apparently make a lot of cum, that’s what yn thinks. sungchan pulls out with a pop sound, his cock semi-hard leaking with the white liquid, “there’s nothing left” he whips out his dick trying to clean it of the liquid, then he uses his hand to clean the remains and made yn lick them, he licks them as if he was sucking sungchan’s dick, “good boy” he praised, “here, have a treat” he guided the head of his cock towards yn’s mouth, just suck the tip, you can suck the shaft later in another session”. yn sucked on it like a lollipop, making sure to make eye contact with sungchan, he looked majestic, his toned muscles glistening with sweat, his hands went up caressing every ab and pinching his nipples. sungchan grunted in pleasure, “shhhhit… so good”. at the end they both fell asleep with sungchan being the big spoon so yn could cockwarm him until they had to wake up and record the vacation vlog.

#jung sungchan x male reader #jung sungchan x male reader smut #sungchan x male reader #sungchan x male reader smut #male reader #kpop x male reader #kpop x male reader smut #male reader smut #smut #sungchan smut #sungchan x reader

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whywaittofallinlove · 27 days ago

Text

off limits ch3 | jesse x miller!daughter reader

pairing: jesse x miller!daughter reader

word count: 3k+

warnings: canon events, stolen dialogue from the show

ch1 | ch2

The trotting of the horses hooves dragging across the snow and slight howling of the wind fills the comfortable silence between niece and uncle. You and Joel have been travelling for a few hours, making the necessary stops along the way to your final check in at the old copper mine.

“So you and Jesse?” Joel asks so nonchalantly, almost like he was just making a passing comment about the weather.

“What?” You cough, inhaling the crisp air too sharply. Your throat tightens as you choke on nothing. Subtlety has never been your strong suit.

“I know my eyes sight is goin’, but I ain’t blind or stupid, baby girl. I see the way that boy looks at you.” Joel barely glances at you, keeping his gaze fixed ahead. Partly because of the approaching storm but mainly because of that infamous Miller trait you all share: the incapability of outwardly showing your emotions.

“Joel-” You’re already preparing to lie, to bury your feelings, ringing true to your shared Miller genes.

“I ain’t sayin’ it’s a bad thing, it’s your life. Jesse’s a good kid. Reliable, respectful. I’m just saying to be careful.”

“You won’t tell Dad?” you ask, almost timidly despite your twenty-two years of age. The question confirming what Joel already knows to be true.

“He won’t hear it from me,” he huffs a soft chuckle, the corner of his mouth tugging upward. “You know he just wants what’s best for you, wants to keep you safe. Ain’t nobody good enough for you, baby girl.”

You look away, blinking away the sudden sting behind your eyes, if Joel asks about it later, you’ll blame it on the wind. “Thanks Joel.” You can’t help the small smile that breaks through.

“But if he hurts you,” Joel adds, his voice steady and eerily calm. “Your dad will be the least of his problems, you hear?” While Joel has aged the last few years in Jackson, you know what exactly he’s capable of. Especially when it comes to the people he loves. Tommy, Ellie and you.

“I’ll let him know.” You nod, your voice full of affection.

The change is the weather is almost immediate. The wind shifts, the cold cutting through your multiple layers, straight through to your bones. The snow around you starts falling thick and heavy, the visibility in front of you low. “Joel!” Your head flicks around, searching, suddenly alone in the snow storm.

The silhouette of your uncle barely becomes visible, almost camouflaging into the white background. The storm has picked up faster than Jesse expected.

“Come on, kiddo! We need to pick it up and get to the mine! Stay with me!” Joel rides into view, coming closer to you, his voice barely heard over the howling wind.

You tighten your freezing hands around the reins, squeeze your thighs, your horse surges forward on your command, galloping after Joel’s into the storm. The biting wind feels like cold knives slashing across your skin, it’s an uncomfortable sensation until suddenly, nothing. Your face feels unpleasantly numb. Not a good sign.

And then, in what feels like an eternity but in reality is only a few minutes, the shape of the metal structure appears like a mirage through the white haze.

Joel swings down from his saddle, his boots hitting the snow heavy. He wrenches the door to the mine open, its rusted hinges groaning in protest, the mine providing you with sanctuary from the blizzard. Joel moves closer to you before pausing, turning to assess your surroundings.

“It’s quiet… too quiet,” Joel pauses, listening, waiting.

Your fingers tremble as you pull the scarf tighter around your mouth and nose, your teeth chattering uncontrollably, the hypothermia settling into your body.

Despite the roaring wind that rages on outside, there’s an eerie feeling that settles uncomfortably in your chest.

You move to dismount from your horse, only stopping when Joel holds his hand up. A faint noise can be heard, not the howling of the wind or the groans of the metal structure. It’s different. For whatever reason, it’s not the cold that sends a shiver through you.

“What the fuck is that noise?” What initially started as a low rumble crescendos into a thunderous roar that echoes off the walls.

“Stay here!” Joel bolts up the rickety stairs, two at a time. “Joel!” You call after your uncle, the panic evident in your voice. He doesn’t spare a glance back, disappearing from your eye line.

“Fuck, what the fuck are we going to do? What would Jesse do?” you whisper while you try to centre yourself, so many thoughts swirling around in your head.

Crack! Crack! The distinct pop of gunfire brings you out of your spiral. A beat of silence. A door above opens, before quickly slamming shut, a latch locking.

“Joel?!” Despite your tremors, you force your fingers to close around the handle of your pistol attached to your thigh. Just hoping when it matters, you’ll be quick to the draw. “Up here! I’m coming!” The sound of your uncle’s voice only brings you relief for a moment. Joel hurries back down the stairs but he’s not alone. A young woman who can’t be older than yourself trails behind him, an indescribable expression on her face.

“Infected. Hundreds of ‘em.” Joel recounts the ominous scene from above.

A sudden slam pounds against the mine’s outer walls. Then another. Then dozens.

“Fuck, what do we do? We’ll never make it back to Jackson. If we stay in here, we die. We go out there, we die.” The words almost tripping out of your mouth, there’s no time to waste.

“I don’t know, I don’t know! I’m thinking!” Joel snaps, his hand anxiously moving through his hair.

“The lodge!” The young woman shouts over you, over the banging on the walls. “My friends and I are held up at the lodge, half way up the mountain! If the infected are down here, maybe there aren’t any more up there.” In theory, it seems logical what this mysterious woman suggests.

“Fuck it, it’s all we got. Are your friends armed?” Joel doesn’t hesitate, but anywhere but here is safer at this point.

“Yeah.” She nods.

“Joel…” You do hesitate, your instinct is telling you not to trust this person. Something feels wrong about her. Why was she out here by herself? Coincidentally near your post? Who is she? Who are they?

Crash. There’s no time to question his decision, the doors to the mine finally give way. Dozens of infected swarm along the walkway above, the first wave of mutated soldiers clawing over each other in their haste to reach the lower floor, to reach the three of you. “Oh my god,” you whisper, your horse stomping its hooves in anticipation for a quick getaway.

“Good, we’re going to need ‘em. Get on!” Joel remounts his horse, yanking the young woman onto his saddle behind him.

“Get goin’ kiddo and don’t look back.” His eyes catch yours for a second, and you can see the concealed panic behind his brown eyes. You share a brief nod, so many words unsaid.

But there’s no more time to hesitate, the three of you burst back into the freezing blizzard once more.

If you weren’t suffering from hypothermia before, you definitely are now. Your body trembles violently with each passing second. Somehow, by the grace of God, you and Joel have successfully managed to outrun the hundreds of infected.

However, you both can only watch on in horror. The infected have redirected, no longer chasing you, but stampeding down the mountain, towards Jackson. Towards your family.

“We have to go back. I have to go back.” You shout to your uncle against the wind, the panic evident in your hoarse voice.

Joel and the young woman ride up beside you, gripping your reins before you can bolt. His eyes meet yours, laced with the same fear that’s crushing against your chest. “We’ll get her friends and we’ll go,” he says, voice steady. “I promise.”

It doesn’t take much longer for the three of you to ride to the top of the mountain, the lodge coming into view, and who you can only assume are the young woman’s group of friends, calling her name out in the howling wind. “Abby!”

Abby deftly removes herself from Joel’s saddle, only to be quickly swaddled in a young man’s embrace, the unknown group leading the way inside the lodge. “Let’s get inside!”

“Come on, baby girl.” Joel removes his jacket and wraps it tightly around your trembling frame, there’s an urgency in his movements as you enter the warm room. Your whole body shakes uncontrollably now, your full lips blue, teeth chattering too hard to speak.

From the frost covered windows, you catch a glimpse of the tall flames licking at Jackson’s gate, the first line of defence against a horde of infected or raiders that dare to try to attack. “D-dad…” you mumble, struggling to form the word.

“I can look after her?” A softly spoken woman offers, before slowly easing you out of Joel’s arms, inching you towards the warm fireplace. “W-who are you?” you stutter, eyes focusing in on the emblem stitched on her backpack. A wolf’s head baring its teeth and three bold letters. W. L. F.

Military?

“I’m Mel, I’m a doctor,” her tone practised, concise, like she’s done this a thousand times before. “We’re going to raise your body temperature up slowly, okay?” You nod weakly at her words.

You barely acknowledge when Abby introduces you to the room, before taking time to personally introduce each of her friends. Owen, Manny, Nora and Mel.

“And him?” She points to your unsuspecting uncle, his gaze firmly focused down on the town below. “His name is Joel.” The atmosphere in the room completely shifts. Guns are drawn, aimed at him, before you can even dare to move a muscle. You move to reach for your gun, but you’re too slow, too cold, too exhausted.

You can only flinch as the woman who’d been tending to you is shoved away from you. You don’t even have time to defend yourself before the icy cold metal of a gun barrel is pressed hard against the side of your head.

“Don’t fucking move.” A manly voice whispers in your ear. The woman introduced as Nora comes closer to you, crouching down for a moment to remove your gun from your thigh holster.

“She has nothin’-“ Joel steps forward on instinct, moving closer to you, but the sound of a safety switch flicked off from the rifle aimed at him, stalls his movement. “You wanna rob us? Fine, take what you want,” Joel says, voice low, cautious, his hands raised in the air.

“Do we look like raiders to you?” Abby asks, a cold edge to her voice. “No.” Joel calmly responds.

“What do we look like?” “Military… Fireflies?” The expression that befalls on your uncle’s face is one full of regret.

“Used to be, haven't you heard?” She pauses, a cold joking edge in her tone of voice. “There are no more Fireflies. They're all gone.” You’re clearly missing an important piece to the story. Something vital. The cause of all this.

Fireflies? You glance around trying to memorise each of their faces. You knew the Fireflies once, vaguely, years ago before you found Jackson. Yet, none of these faces are familiar to you, clearly not a part of the Boston faction of the rebel movement.

“I’m going to give you one chance to tell the truth,” Abby says, walking closer to you, the muzzle of her gun presses hard against your temple. “Otherwise I’m going to blow her fucking brains out.” Joel’s helpless eyes lock on yours, unshed tears pooling in his eyes.

“G-get the f-fuck away from me!” You struggle against male hands. You try to thrash against his grip, but your body tremors causes you to falter, your reflexes dulled from the hypothermia.

“Where was the last place you saw the Fireflies?” Abby asks. “Salt Lake.” Joel replies instantly, there’s no hesitation, the price of your life too high to even risk a lie. “At least you’re honest,” Abby mutters, lowering her gun from your head. She turns her back on both of you, stepping away closer to the tall male named Owen.

“I saved your life,” Joel calls after her, reminding her that she would be dead without him. Joel turns to you, in an attempt to comfort you. “It’s okay, baby girl—”

“What life?” Abby says before the sound of a shotgun blast ricochets off the walls.

“Joel!” You watch on as Joel hits the floor like a dead weight. His leg forcefully giving way, blood and shattered bone exposed underneath the torn denim.

Adrenaline flows through you.

You heavily stomp your boot down on the foot of the man who’s holding you, before quickly throwing your head back, the sickening crunch of someone’s nose breaking behind your skull. You’re finally able to twist free from his grasp just as Nora lunges for you, but you jab an elbow into her stomach, hard. She doubles over in pain, gasping for breath. Your fingers can only lightly brush against the hidden dagger you’ve stashed in your holster.

The fight leaves you as something collides heavy against your temple, your uncle’s face contorted in pain, his hand reaching out to you, the last thing you see before darkness pulls you under.

“Jesse! They’re down here!” Dina? Her voice is urgent. Distant. The sound of heavy steps drawing closer. Familiar calloused hands gently cradle your face, lightly brushing your hair away from your face.

“Baby, hey, you gotta open your eyes. Come on, baby.” You try to focus on the sound of his panicked voice, coaxing you out of the dark haze.

“Ouch, my head…” Your eyelids flutter open, heavy and reluctant to the light. Jesse’s concerned face hovers close to yours, his brows furrowed tightly together in worry. Where are we? For a moment, you don’t understand, you can’t seem to remember the moments before the darkness crept on you.

Then it hits you.

You sit up, fighting against the pounding in your head and the bile that burns in your throat, eyes searching, only to land to the sight just behind Jesse.

“No…” You instantly roll to your side and violently retch the contents of your stomach up, your body convulsing with each heave, sobs of Joel’s name breaking through in between. Jesse kneels beside you, hands carefully holding your hair, murmuring words of comfort into your ear. “I got you, baby, it’s okay, I got you.” It’s not okay, nothing is okay.

Your uncle’s body lies crumpled on the floor. The torture he must of endured evident. His once handsome features are barely recognisable under the purple swelling and deep gashes. A brutal dent crushed into his skull in what must have been the final blow that ended his torment.

You don’t know at what point Ellie came to your attempted rescue.

You only really register her presence in the room when she silently begins to drag her body closer to Joel, you take note of the weakness in her body and dried blood caked on her face. She must’ve been here.

The three of you can only watch on in despair when Ellie reaches his corpse, weaving her small fingers through Joel’s stiff unmoving ones, her body draping protectively around his. The struggles of her breathing, her chest heaving with each silent cry.

You can’t watch anymore. You bury your head into Jesse’s shoulder, your hands gripping tightly to his jacket, his own arms wrapping around you.

The four of you taking a moment in your shared grief.

You carefully cradle Ellie in your arms, mindful of every sob, every wince, every sharp intake of breath. Each one of her breaths are laboured, most likely the result of a collapsed lung. She folds in on herself, and the only thing you can do is wrap your arms around her, securing her to you.

There are no words of comfort. Both of you silently watch on.

Across the room, Jesse and Dina move in tandem, their own faces solemn, while they gently wrap Joel’s body in a tattered blanket. Then comes the plastic tarp, a cocoon of sorts, sealing him away from the world.

You gently shift away from Ellie, careful not to cause any more pain to her injuries. Your limbs feel heavy with each step you take closer, when Dina and Jesse begin to lift your uncle’s corpse. You move in between them, your arms sliding beneath Joel’s torso, the weight of him a devastating reminder of what you’ve lost today.

The three of you carry his body outside, the storm has finally settled, but you pay no attention to the cold that bites at your skin. Together, you slowly lower him onto the makeshift stretcher newly attached to your horse, on the snow covered ground. Jesse turns to go back inside, to bring an injured Ellie out, for you all to go home together. Dina lingers for a moment, then takes a step back, giving you a moment of privacy without a word.

You remain there, frozen in place, you stare perplexed at the still shape in front of you. A foolish part of you expects a sign of life from the body. But he doesn’t move.

“You’ve got her?” You hear Jesse behind you, helping lift Ellie on to Dina’s horse. “I’ve got her, Jess.” Dina’s reply lost in the wind.

You move to kneel in the snow, your gloved hands pulling tight on the ropes that secure the plastic tarp that encases your uncle’s body. You make sure every knot is tight and firm, that the plastic tarp protects his earthly remains on the journey home.

You drop your head to his chest, the silence within causing you to sob. “I love you. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”

“Come on, baby.” Jesse’s tone soft as he crouches down next to you. “We have to get back. We have to take him back.” You don’t even resist as Jesse helps you to your feet. Each movement mechanical, instinctual, your brain switching off to all thought and feeling.

You and Jesse ride together, your body pressed against his, your gaze steadily fixed into the distance, yet you see nothing. Every now and then, you glance behind, silently checking that Joel is still with you. Jesse’s arms are strong around you, holding the pieces that are threatening to break, together.

The gates of Jackson open at the sight of your small group. Hundreds of infected bodies cover the ground surrounding the gate, their bodies left to slowly burn in the snow. The stench of burning flesh seeps into your nose, turning your stomach. The adrenaline that had kept you going finally begins to drain from your body, leaving behind the pounding in your skull and a hollow ache in your chest.

You notice immediately the town in ruin, having taken a big hit to its defence. Bodies of infected and people you once knew lay scattered, dead in the streets.

Jesse slides off the horse first, his hands firm as he reaches up to help you down. You barely register his commands to deliver the stretcher to the morgue. “Who is it?” Jesse’s arms wrap tighter around you at the question. “It’s Joel.”

The words are so final, so real, the pieces inside you are finally breaking. Despite the ache behind your eyes, you swivel your head around, searching for the only person who can keep you from falling apart so spectacularly.

You catch sight of him, his eyes locking in on the tarp, before glancing at you, a moment of relief crosses his face. Jesse doesn’t resist when you push away from his hold, running towards your father. “Daddy…” Tommy catches you in his arms just as your legs give out. He pulls you in tightly, his arms wrapping protectively around you. Tommy’s calloused hands cradle your face, his fingers lightly tracing over the cut above your brow, a matching one on his own temple.

“I’m so sorry, I-I tried, I-I couldn’t-“ Tears freely fall from your eyes.

Tommy tenses, the realisation that while he might not of lost his daughter, he has lost his only brother, hits him hard in the chest. Your father can only pull you in tighter, his chin resting on your head, and both of you just hold on to one another.

“It’s not your fault, sweetheart, it’s not your fault.” Tommy whispers over and over. He presses a delicate kiss to your head, his own tears slowly slip into your hair while he rocks you in his arms.

Note: thank you so much for reading if you’re still here, can promise the next one has more Jesse x reader interaction with some smut too

Tag list: @larascorneroftheworld, @jellyfishlord123, @aleemendoza2425-blog, @justcallmesams, @onlyforyuto, @genrockstar, @peachyxlynch

#the last of us #tlou hbo #tlou2 #jesse the last of us #jesse tlou #jesse x miller reader #jesse x reader #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou imagine #jesse tlou x reader #jesse tlou x you #the last of us x reader #the last of us x you #abby tlou #owen tlou #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us hbo #the last of us imagine

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yailtsv · 3 months ago

Text

Chapter 2: Mistake? Lesson learned?

»»— warnings: none

»»— notes: ummmm i’m sorry 🙃

»»— word count: 1.1k

previous part ⌧ next part

Unprofessional Line Masterlist

you left.

you didn’t stay in the office like you were supposed to.

you got scared and left.

paige left for the GQ shoot about 30 minutes ago, which means you had 30 minutes of pure silence, which is bad, cause that’s 30 minutes of silence where you can be stuck in your head over thinking.

what if she fires me now? i can’t afford rent without this job. i have some money saved up though so maybe that can hold me over until i find a good paying job. no! what if she tells all the bosses that i slept with her so then they won’t hire me? i’m screwed. i need to get out of here before she gets back and fires me. why’d i cross that line?!?

you immediately stood up from the couch finding and putting on your clothes as you found them. once completely dressed - you bolted.

not turning back once, you just needed to get out of there immediately. although you did tell the front desk worker that you were leaving cause you didn’t feel good, but that’s it.

“babe i’m saying this in the nicest way possible, your dumb. not even dumb but ridiculous.” your best friend says over the phone

“oh gee thanks!” you responded sarcastically, sitting on your couch in your super overpriced apartment - that’s in terrible condition, may i add.

“hey don’t do that, you know i’m right. she never once showed any signs that she was gonna fire you right?”

“….no”

“and she wasn’t being rude to you, or making you feel like an object, or anything of the sorts right?”

“well no bu-“

“so you just left for no reason. she’s obviously interested in you and your interested in her, so what’s the problem? you’ve been telling me about her for years, bro! years! and now that you’re finally crossing that bridge, you just run away?”

“it was a mistake! she’s my boss, i-i can’t just sleep with my boss, you know that. i need to just…move on. she’s not interested in me and i can’t be interested in her. it’s against the rules on every level. lesson learned; don’t sleep with your boss! it makes things complicated.” you sighed, sounding like you were trying to convince yourself more than your friend. mistake? lesson learned? really?

“you don’t even sound confident in that! bro talk to her! you’ve been with her since her brand was created, you’re literally a day 1! she wouldn’t ever fire you let alone fire you because of something you BOTH did!”

you just sit there letting her words wrap around your brain, before you hear water dripping, making you sigh out loud already knowing where it’s coming from

“hey i gotta go, my ceiling’s leaking again, i gotta go find buckets to put under the leaks.”

you try not to give her time to respond but right when you’re pressing the red button, you could hear “TALK TO HER!” before the call ended

you sigh before standing up to search for these dumb buckets, to put under these dumb leaks, that the dumb landlord won’t send help for. you’ve been complaining about multiple leaks, and broken things for almost a year now. your showers been broken for the last two months too, so you’ve been getting to work before anyone else and taking a shower in the locker room downstairs, and you obviously left the office in a hurry and now you’re stuck smelling like sex, sweat, and paige’s valentino cologne. thank god your lease will expire soon.

paige had just gotten back from the GQ photo shoot, a little bit behind schedule but only because she had the driver stop at your favorite fast food place.

paige waved to the front desk worker as a way to say she’s back, as the worker was on the phone and then got in the elevator heading to the top floor - where hers and yours offices were

nobody should ever be up on the top floor unless they absolutely need to talk to you or paige, which is why paige felt comfortable yelling out to you, + like she said she’s the boss and she makes the rules, so really she could yell as much, and as loud as she wanted too, but she’s aware that you’re more introverted and private, so she is still gonna respect that you don’t want the office knowing about you and her.

“babe, i got us food!” paige yelled out, reaching for her keys to unlock her office door, only to find it already unlocked, making her enter confused

“baby?” paige called out taking her keys out of the door, before looking around to see no you, none of your clothes on the floor, and her shirt layed on the couch

she looked around confused and scared, before setting the food down on the small table on the side of the couch, and exiting the office going back to the first floor

“hey, hey, hey, have you seen y/n? she’s not upstairs.” paige says to the front desk worker, with her voice laced in noticeable concern

“she left a little bit ago. claimed she she wasn’t feeling good, and honestly? she looked very pale and tired” he said shrugging before looking back down at his computer, trying to finish whatever he was working on - not knowing that he just punched paige right in the heart

she slowly nods before hitting the desk gently as a way of saying ‘thank you’ before slowly making her way back to the elevator.

walking into her office, she immediately walks past the couch, going straight to her desk and pulling her phone out of her suit pocket

Hey, are you feeling better?

delivered at 7:30

Baby?

delivered at 7:47

Alright, message me when you

feel better, yeah?

delivered at 8:00

paige sighs throwing her phone onto her desk, before rubbing her hand over her face.

did i mess this up? did i ruin everything? is she actually sick or is she avoiding me? god i’m such a bitch, this is all my fault. wait, did i take advantage of her? no! she gave me consent, she has to just be sick, right? right?

paige groans throwing her head against her desk, food long forgotten about

but her overthinking time is abruptly interrupted as one of your interns knock on her opened door “miss.bueckers you need to have those new designs turned in tonight”

“yeah i’ll get to them, thank you” paige rasps out “are you ok, boss? you look sad”

paige puts on a fake smile “i’m fine, thank you.” the intern falls for that though, taking her word that she is ok, and leaves paige alone in her office with her overwhelming voices

is she avoiding me? did i mess things up?

🏷️ @melpthatsme @rebecca-woso @authentic-girl03 @souplored @bethsleftnip @evry1luvzzae @paigeluvvr @dopeeaglequeen

#unprofessional line—★#paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers x y/n #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers smut #paige x reader #yailtsv works—★

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werewolfnarrative · 7 months ago

Text

EXCLUSIVE TREATMENT

M!Sylus and F!Reader. "Goodcat Code" inspired;

GENRE: smut, a little bit of plot;

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT, kissing, teasing (Sylus has a sensible body), boob and nipple sucking, oral (M!receiving), unprotected sex, creampie.

ALL CHARACTERS IN THIS FANFIC ARE CONSENTING ADULTS. PROCEED CAREFULLY AND DO NOT ATTEMPT TO RECREATE THESE SITUATIONS IN REAL LIFE.

You were greeted with the eternal night of the N109 Zone. The plane had just landed and you were now in the airport waiting to be picked up. A new Protocore auction was about to happen, and Jenna was confident in your skills to navigate the area.

Luke and Kieran were meant to pick you up at the south entrance and take you to Onychinus' base. When you leave the big glass doors there is no soul or vehicle around. You double check the messages. Nothing.

Your cellphone rings. "Hey, hold on tight!" The voice of the twins echoed through the dark. "There has been a... problem but we are on our way." Just as the audio ends, a fancy black car shows up in your field of vision.

"What happened? Is it related to Sylus?" You ask as they help you put your luggage in the trunk. "Ah, good night." You quickly add. They look at each other, a very noticeable nervousness in the air. "Of course not, he's fine."

Sylus was not, in fact, fine. He had woken up this morning (night) feeling dizzy, even though he never got sick. There were important preparations to be made in regards to the Protocore auction, so he just send Luke and Kieran take care of them so he woudn't have to expose himself so much. And the worst part of it is that you would be arriving in a few hours.

He locked himself in his study and told the staff to not be bothered. The cook and cleaning were dispensed for the day. The only way he would even interact with the world outside is through the twins, and they were running left and right to make everything perfect.

"He's fine." Kieran confirmed.

The house was bathed in shadows and eerily silent when the three of you arrived. No one commented on it, nor the absence of the host. Your luggage was delivered to the guest room (the one closest to Sylus' own bedroom was always used by you when you visited. Some of your plushies from Linkon decorated the walls) and then you were alone.

"Hi, Sylus. Are you home?" You try to call him. No one picks up, so you leave a voicemail. "I arrived safely, and so did the twins. Thank you for picking me up." A few minutes go by until a hoarse voice reaches your ears. "I'm glad you're here."

What was that? He never used words like that, and there was something wrong with his voice. You begin to search around the house on your own, since Luke would always give avoidant answers and his twin was out for the preparations. There were no lights under the door to his bedroom.

The door opens silently and you come in. You think about turning on the lights, but that would reveal your position to the one downstairs. The search was going smoothly, even in darkness, until you see two glowing red dots at the top of his bed.

"Got lost, sweetie?" The tall figure got up and began approaching you. "Why are you in the dark, you crazy? It's bad for your eyes." He lets out an amused chuckle. "I couldn't find you anywhere so I began searching."

"Worried about me?" He whispers. Even then, you can still hear a different timbre to his voice. You paw at the walls, trying to find the light switch. A strong white light fills the room, and both of you groan at the sudden luminosity.

You let out an "ouch" when you open your eyes for the first time. The sight before you is surely a trick of the light. When you look at this angle, it almost looks like Sylus is sporting cat ears and a tail. His eyes are still closed and he is standing completely still, wich gives you enough time to absorb his features.

The (very real) ears twitch, and the tail moves languidly behind. There are slight eyebags under his eyes and his posture is a little... sad? "What the hell happened to you?" He winces. "Remember our little Kitty Cards game last night, kitten? There is a strange Evol affecting me and I think they are related."

"I guess you are the kitten now, Sylus." You spat back at him. "Is it temporary?" He nods and moves to turn of the light switch. You stand in front of it, stopping him in his tracks.

One look at his face is all it takes to see he is not happy. In fact, tired is the word that explains it better. "If you want to stay, stay. I'm going to bed." He unceremoniously turns around and plops onto the mattress, face down.

"Are you going to stay here all day?" "I can't exactly leave until I get back to normal. Feel free to do whatever you want in the meantime." You're pretty sure he was talking about the black credit card, or exploring the base, but you immediately lay down on the bed beside him. His ears twitch in interest and he puts his tail on top of you.

"Whatever I want?" He shifts on the bed to look at you. "Does my kitten have something in mind?" You giggle and reach for his white fur, meeting no resistance. He grumbles when you run your fingertips across his hair and then his ears.

You start going lower, cradling his face in both of your hands. He is sitting up now, also wrapping his arms around you to secure your body in place. He nibbles every patch of skin he can reach as you continue your journey, caressing his neck and then finding purchase on his shoulders. You bite him a little more strongly and he moans.

"If you're touching me like this, does this means I can touch you too?" You nod and your mouths meet halfway. Both of you alternate between kisses to squeezing and groping. There is a blush on his face as you feel run your hands through his pecks and stomach. His hand moves to your breasts and begins teasing your hard peaks.

"I tought you said you were going to bed?" You tease. He turns your body around quickly, standing up as you are pushed down to the matress. You are now under Sylus as he kisses you fervently and purrs against your skin. "My kitten is very bold today. I am going to bed, just not alone."

Sylus makes a show of taking of his thin shirt, the upper part of his body leaving nothing to imagination. You can see his bulge protruding from his pants and your stomach pools with desire. He guides your hand to his ears and tail again, and whimpers when you give the sensitive skin a soft pinch.

"Take them off." You begin undressing your many layers, still in your travel outfit. Sylus hums in satisfaction and begins licking your tits as soon as they are in view. You forget completely of your pants while he makes you shiver in his grasp, sucking the nubs until they are swollen.

"I-I want -" He begins, but stops midway. His feline ears droop down. "Tell me what you want." You reply, remembering all the times he said the same thing to you, in this same bedroom. Sylus guides your head to his strained pants, and you understand.

His tip is angry red when you pull his waistbands off. Precum is already gathering at the tip, and you prepare your mouth for what's to come. Sylus seems to be more desperate today, since he is moaning and telling you to hurry up. "Want to be inside your pretty mouth."

You begin sucking and playing with the tip. That is already enough to have his hips bucking into the air as you continue your descend. "Calm down love, I'll get there." During all of your relationship, you had never seen Sylus like this. Was the cat Evol affecting him so badly?

"Please let me come inside your mouth. Let me -" He stops again, clearly embarassed. His flush now spread to his shoulders and his chest. "Let me what, darling?" The pet name, along with you sucking his shame out through his dick makes him a little less bashfull.

"Want to breed." He declares like it's his most precious secret. "Want to make you full of my litter." During these times, you were sure Sylus had a breeding kink, even if he refused to talk about it if not in moments like this.

Even then, he continues guiding your head to deepthroat his dick, gasping loudly when you suck. "I won't last long, kitten I -" You produce a loud slurping sound and run your tongue all across his lenght.

He explodes in your mouth with a loud groan.

You wait a few seconds for him to open his eyes, his release still in your mouth. You swallow and see something flash behind his eyes. Just like earlier, you are wrestled to be under him, cock still hard and teasing your folds.

"Do you have any idea of what you do to me?" Sylus teases your entrance while playing with your clit. "How hard it was not to pounce on you the moment you came through that door? I tought about you all day." He mumbles, more to himself than to anyone else, and continues his job to make his cock fit inside.

You feel the telltale strech as he makes his way through your walls. Both your and Sylus' moans fill the room, eyes shut to absorb the pleasure. "Look at me. Want to see you." He demands. After a few more tries, he finally bottoms out.

"Why didn't you respond to my texts? My calls?" His ears droop, but his tail wraps as strongly as possible onto your leg while he nuzzles your chest. "I tought being away from you would be easier. It wasn't."

He begins to move and all your anger dissipates.

Sylus' slender fingers resume his ministrations to your bundle of nerves while his shaft touches all your sensitive spots inside. "So good don't stop!" You scream against his mouth before he kisses you urgently. The bed is shaking with the impact of your bodies. "Ne-next time something like this happens, call me earlier."

He laughs. "My kitten is enjoying the treatment, huh?" There are no toughts in your head while Sylus slams into you. You grind against him, meeting his cock halfway. He whimpers, stopping abruptly to stave off his orgasm. Your release is also approaching quicker than expected.

"If you keep doind this, I won't last long." There is sweat on his forehead and a few wild strands of hair fall atop his eyes. You gently brush them back with your fingers. "I tought you said you wanted to fill me with your litter? Is the fearsome Onychinus leader going back on his word?"

Big mistake.

The rhytm he sets after that is punishing, both to your pussy and your clit. You scream at the sudden pace. Sylus' face is scrunched as he mutters "fuck, fuck, fuck" under his breath. He won't last long indeed. There is one last thing you need to do, tough.

"Sy-Sylus?" You ask. He quirks his eyebrows as if they said "yes?" and you approach his human ear. "I love you."

The reaction is instantaneous. You feel his release fill up your insides, and the last movements Sylus did on your clit were enough to send you over the edge. There was so much of it... cum was starting to run down your tighs as he hugged you flush against his body.

"Are you okay?" Even after your breathing went back to normal, Sylus still looked somewhat feverish. He pushed you down on the now stained covers. "Stay with me."

"Of course. I won't leave until you get better." Sylus did not seem satisfied, based on the flicker of his tail. "I want you to stay forever, even after I go back to normal." It was not the first time he made that request, but it never had such raw vulnerability before.

You would never abandon your life in Linkon. Both you and Sylus knew that. Even so, at that moment, the rest of the world seemed so far away. It woudn't hurt to stay for a while, would it?

"I am never going to be able to look at boss again." Kieran had come back from his chores a few minutes ago, and the sounds coming from the master bedroom were unmistakeable. Luke, already knowing of the activities, was blasting loud music through his headphones.

"At least you won't have to run around doing things anymore." The twin responded. "Until he goes back to normal, anyway."

Looking through the multiple drawers, Kieran grabs another set of headphones. He finds a very long trash metal playlist. Good enough. "I won a break at work, but will surely need a terapy session after this."

Would you like to support my work? Or request a prompt? Try tipping me on Ko-Fi:

#sylus #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #love and deepspace #sylus x reader #sylus smut #love and deepspace smut

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clockwayswrites · 1 year ago

Text

City Pigeons Part 12 CW: blood, past trauma and experimentation

Jason could almost go to sleep. He wouldn’t, not when he was the only Bat in the apartment, but it would be so easy to. Danny made a really good weighted blanket.

It seemed once the kid got over touching someone, he basically became a koala. Cass and Danny had spent the morning wrapped around each other on the couch. Cass was playing one of her weird clicking games and Danny, blue bear in his lap, was scrolling through articles on the tablet that Tim had brought him the other day.

Now, though, Cass was out on a snack run and Danny had slowly slumped over until he was laying across Jason. It wasn’t minded. Jason could admit he still had some trouble with touch himself, but it was easy to be there for Danny like this.

The problem was, Jason needed to get back to Crime Alley for at least a few nights. He was already past when Red Hood should have made an appearance. It he didn’t go back soon, rumors were going to start that he was dead. Again.

Jason waited for Danny to start searching for a new article to read to ask, “Are you alright with meeting someone soon?”

He didn’t expect Danny to tense like he did.

“Robin?”

“No, Dandelion,” Jason said, stroking Danny’s white hair. “N talked with Robin and he knows not to stop by like that without warning. We’ll have him over when you’re comfortable but not before.”

“Okay. Sorry. I don’t mean to…”

“None of that. He freaked you out,” Jason said. “I know he didn’t mean to, and from our guess it’s not his fault how he feels like to you, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t. It’s okay to set boundaries.”

“He… doesn’t feel weird to you?”

Jason sighed. “No. I guess I don’t sense it. I didn’t know you had died until you told me.”

“Oh.” Danny’s voice was small and quiet.

“But I knew that I had died— the others know it’s too,” Jason was quick to add. “It’s alright that you died. No one will think differently of you.”

“They might. It’s… you’re different than me, I guess.”

“I don’t know, because I don’t know what happened to you, but I actually hope so. The way I came back wasn’t pleasant.” Jason had to take a breath before he continued. “I was murdered by a rogue in town called the Joker. I woke up… we’re still not sure when exactly, but somewhere about half a year later. I didn’t have any of my memories, but I still had most of my injuries.

“I was picked up by some people you might hear us refer to— the League of Assassins. They put me back together about a year after my death by tossing me in something called the Lazarus Pits. Those things come with a price though, one that I’m still paying. Coming back was… hard, in a lot of ways.”

“Oh,” Danny said. He clung a little to Jason’s shirt, like he wanted to make sure Jason was still there. It was a feeling Jason understood all too well. “I, um, don’t think I’ve ever stayed really dead for more than a minute or two. At least not like… not like you were.”

Jason rested his hand on Danny’s back, feeling him breath. Feeling him… feeling him not breathe.

“…Danny?”

Danny clung tighter to Jason’s shirt. “Go ahead, ask.”

“Are you… somewhat dead right now?”

“Yes.”

Just one word. A simple answer.

“Okay. That’s— okay. I’m glad there’s a reason that you’re not breathing,” Jason said and pressed a kiss to the top of Danny’s head as he tried to calm his own pounding heart.

“I think B.B. knows. I usually… it’s habit to breath but sometimes I forget and—”

“She’s good at noticing things.” Jason would have to talk with her. “But that goes to what I said, right? None of the others will thinking of you differently.”

“Even if…”

“Even if anything.”

Danny sat up and Jason resisted the urge to reach for him. It took him a moment longer to release Jason’s shirt. Jason sat up slowly and waited for Danny to get the words out he was obviously working on.

“Can I show you?”

“Course.” Jason braced himself for anything.

“It might be bright, close your eyes.”

The flash still shown through Jason’s eyelids.

“Oh.” Danny’s voice wavered horribly. “I didn’t think of that.”

“Danny?” Jason was reaching forward even as he opened his eyes.

It was good he did.

He had to catch Danny as he wavered dangerously. Danny’s who hair was black. Who’s eyes were blue. Who looked all the more like Bruce’s son. Who was bleeding red.

“Jesus and Mother Mary,” Dick cursed, resting his forehead against his wrist’s.

Cass came over and peeled the bloody gloves off for him. “Breathe.”

“I am breathing,” Dick wheezed.

“Badly.”

Jason barked out a laugh at that. It was unstable in a way that reminded the room of worse days.

The door banged open and they all jolted, everyone but Cass, who was better than that, and Danny who was still out cold.

“Shit, fuck, sorry,” Tim rambled. “Is he stable?”

“Yes,” Cass answered. Her voice was calm, but but Duke could see the way that she fidgeted. For anyone else it wouldn’t be called fidgeting, but the way that she untied and retied and untied the trash bag in his visions told Dick otherwise.

Cass was as worried as the rest of them.

“Signal?” Tim asked. He came into the room, tablet already pulled up to record everything.

“Hard for me to say,” Duke said with a little shrug. He wished he could say, but he was still trying to understand what he was seeing. “The guy is… he’s like no one I’ve ever seen before. But I think he’s getting stronger.”

“That’s— holy fuck.” Tim paused as he finally got a look at Danny.

“Really looks like the old man like this, doesn’t he?” Jason asked. He was trying to hide how his hands were trembling by keeping his arms crossed. Everyone in the room let him pretend.

Duke sure wouldn’t have wanted to be the one Danny collapsed on like that. It was bad enough being the third one there as he swung over from his patrol. The cuts had still been appearing on Danny’s skin, ripping him apart like he was nothing.

He didn’t look much better all bandaged up.

“I think the cuts were ones he must have sustained before changing forms before he even met us,” Duke reasoned. “They… felt old.”

Dick rubbed at his face. “So the whole time they were there just waiting to bleed?”

Jason laughed again. “Waiting for him to be alive again.”

Slowly, Dick dropped his hands and looked up at Jason. “Jay?”

Okay, so they were at the point of forgetting cape-names now. That was a great sign.

Confusingly, Jason looked to Cass, who actually fidgeted.

“He doesn’t breathe. He does, not always. His heart beats, not always. It is like he…,” she twisted her hand as if trying to grab onto the right word. “Like he relaxes and forgets.”

Well that was weird. Dick nodded to the monitor that he had helped hook up. “He’s breathing right now and the monitor says his heartbeat is hella slow, but steady.”

“This is his alive form, I think. More alive form,” Jason said with a shrug. “His other form is his more dead form. He said he’s never stayed ‘really dead’ like I was. I think ‘really’ was the important word in that. He stressed it like it was… a technically or some shit.”

“Or a loophole,” Tim said. He was watching Danny with his head tilted just slightly to the right.

It was a pose that had Duke straightening up in attention. “What do you see that I can’t?”

Tim glanced at him and then back down at Danny. “The scars don’t match.”

“Ti—Red, please just say it,” Dick pleaded, exhaustion hanging on his words.

“Sorry, I was. I mean, the scars he has now don’t exactly match the scars he had in his— what are we calling it? Dead form?”

Jason flinched.

Dick’s eyes flicked from Jason to Tim. “Let’s go with… ghost. Undead, you know?”

Tim continued on valiantly. “His scars don’t match with what he had in his ghost form. There are a few like around his neck that I think are one-to-one and a lot of them are in the same place from what I can see and might be the same? I’d have to take photos and compare. But… he has more in this living form, I’m sure of it.”

“Okay, right, so that’s a thing,” Jason said. He slid down the wall he was leaning against until he was squatting. He hung his head between his knee and wrapped his hands around the back of his neck.

Duke could see Jason passing out with enough probability that he slipped out of the room to grab some sour candy for Jason and an icepack for the back of his neck. Being honest with himself, Duke could use the moment out of the room. It was a lot to deal with.

Man, someone would have to do something about the bloody couch too… Dick sighed and took the time to send a message to Babs about it as well as an update. Knowing her she had a list of all the furniture in all the safe houses and could get a slipcover ordered on same day delivery. At least he hoped so. Everyone was taking this pretty hard and they didn’t need the reminder.

Duke figured the bad reaction was pretty fair though, they had thought that Danny was getting better and now his healing was going to be set back. Dick would be guilty because he hadn’t been here, Jason going through his issues about kids and violence and death, and Cass already counted Danny as family. She was never good when family was hurt. It was even worse that Danny should have been safe, he was under their watch.

Duke set the pack of candy and ice pack down next to Jason’s foot, close enough that he should be able to feel the cold, and backed up to his corner. It was best not to touch right then. He wasn’t afraid of Jason ever hurting him purposefully, but he was also very aware for Jason it might not always be purposeful.

Cass joined him, leaning against his side, and Duke wrapped an arm around her. Tim was tapping away on his tablet, mostly muttering to himself, but Dick had gotten up to peer over his shoulder.

Jason tore open the packet of candies and popped one in his mouth.

They’d be okay.

It would take work, but they were Bats. They were stubborn.

Dukes wrist buzzed. The tracking number for slipcover flashed across his hud. It would be there by 9 pm.

They’d be okay.

Everything hurt. Everything ached all the way down through his skin and muscled and bones. His breath caught in his chest, ragged and frayed like his lungs were full of shattered glass.

He tried not to make a noise.

He tried to stay quiet.

They would notice him if he made a noise. He couldn’t take any more attention. He didn’t think he’d survive more attention. God, that thought was almost enough to kill him. Once he would have done anything for his parents attention and now—

There was a hand in his hair. It was gentle.

Oh, he was crying.

“…going to be okay. We have you, Dandelion, and we’re not letting them touch you ever again. The two Reds will make sure it can never happen again. Once you’re better they’ll take a little road trip.”

That was… that wasn’t… a sob broke through Danny’s lips and he didn’t stop it. He didn’t even try.

He wasn’t there.

He could make noises.

He was safe.

“Danny? Hey, are you awake.”

Danny nodded as much as he could manage.

“Hey there,” Nightwing said, voice so kind that it just made Danny cry harder. “Can you open your eyes for me?”

Danny shook his head.

“Okay, that’s okay, thank you for answering me Danny. How’s the pain? Um, squeeze my hand once if it’s okay, twice if it’s really bad.”

Danny squeezed it three times.

“Really, really bad, huh? Okay. Okay… we can give you some pain meds through your IV. We have you on a saline drip because you looked really bad. We didn’t want to give you any meds without your consent though. Are you alright with some pain medication? Once for yes, twice for no.”

One squeeze.

“Okay, let me go—”

Danny clung to Nightwing’s hand a tightly at he could. His breath stuttered around the glass.

“Not leaving, Dandelion. I’m going to text Red Robin, okay? He’s in the living room. Hood and B.B are out… running an errand. They’ll be back soon. I’ll text Red and he’ll bring the pain meds.”

Danny nodded. Nightwing shifted around, but didn’t let go of Danny’s hand. The breathing calmed, got easier. Danny let out a slow breath.

“Hey Danny,” a new voice said. “The medication will make you feel fuzzy and maybe disoriented. You’ll probably sleep a lot. We don’t want you to wake up panicked. Is there anything we can do to help you know you’re here with us and safe?”

“Bear,” Danny croaked. He wet his lips and tried to continue. “Smells that aren’t… Touch. Warmth.”

“Red will get your teddy bear as soon as the meds are hooked up and we’ll work on the other things. One of us will always be here with you,” Nightwing said.

Danny squeezed his hand again.

“Okay. We won’t leave you alone, Danny, we’ll keep you safe. You’ll be okay.”

Danny trusted that.

It was surprising.

He didn’t think he could trust anymore, but Danny trusted that, trusted them.

The warmth of that thought followed him back into the black.

---

AN: This all Danny's fault, not mine! He decided to reveal his form early and then... welp.....

...Stay delightful, darlings?

#dp x dc #batpham #city pigeons

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toast-on-dandelioms · 1 year ago

Note

What if m/c had been accepted for a scholarship abroad and just ended up stayinv there becoming the resident hero ? They did keep in regular contact with Alfred tho, seeing as he was the only family member who didnt ignore them.

Ok that is interesting and for this (which is not in the storyline in part 4) I will add another hero or two instead of Superman since he's not THAT special.

Small disclaimer: I am not sure if Green Arrow lives in Central City and where I searched told me he lives there so don't come at me that it's wrong please (I changed it to Star City so if you see it changed here is the answer)

This is based two years before you entered highschool so when you were 13 and already in Bruce's Manor.

You were there for a year and after suffering so much from Damian's tormenting you and everyone just ignoring you made you so tired and you wanted, no, needed to leave the manor and city.

You knew it was drastic but you couldn't do it anymore, you missed your mother and being sent to a home where people detest you just for existing made you feel so bad you couldn't even leave your room without a panic attack at the thought of being hurt by Damian's words or weapons or being ignored by everyone when you tried to say anything.

You applied to a few scholarship far away from Gotham to enter some prestigious schools in different cities so you could spread your choices if you got accepted.

You didn't say anything to Alfred until you received many scholarships and you chose the one in Star City, wanting to be as far away as possible from Gotham and the Waynes.

The only problem was getting Alfred to accept to send you there since he was the boss in the house, not Bruce.

You knew Bruce wouldn't care if he sent you somewhere else but you didn't want him to know where you would be going but still needed his money since you were a thirteen year old with no job or an allowance.

Thankfully Bruce just signed it without looking when Alfred showed him some random papers and off you went to your new life in Star City.

As years passed you became more social since you weren't held down by the neglect of the Waynes and you were around people who actually sought you out and didn't completely ignore you.

You kept dancing and sent all of yours training practices, plus all your small and big dance recitals to Alfred so he could see you dance since he couldn't come to every single one of them and you didn't blame him.

When you turned 15 you found a part-time job at a science company where they allowed you to work on your experiments with the supervision of an another scientist.

Unfortunately (or fortunately) you got bit by a radioactive spider that escaped from the same scientist who was supposed to supervise you and gave you the spider abilities.

Which did worry you but you learned to control your newfound superhuman strenght and also your weird sticking to surfaces and walking on walls.

Did it take a while? Yes, but it was worth it.

You also decided to become a vigilante because why not? Why not put your life in danger every night just to not receive any money compensation from it?

You're not as active as your alterego in Gotham since you actually have friends here and you're not held down by years of neglect which pushed you to help people.

You helped people whenever you could and one night, during a patrol you accidentally bumped into Green Arrow and fought with him for a while before both of you realised neither of you two were villains.

You did apologise and after a few more encounters and you pulling some pranks on Oliver because he was an easy target to prank, like come on. The man wears green and has an arrow. You can't not prank that man and call him Robin Hood.

You became his little helper, got his phone number and helped him with some villains whenever you could and especially if he let you.

You also trained your fighting with him, which got you beat up and with so many black eyes that you had to beg him to not hit your face since you couldn't keep worrying your friends and dance instructor since they were starting to ask questions and you couldn't fool them forever.

You also met Roy, aka Speedy, while on a mission with Oliver and also got along with him despite his hatred for Oliver and gained a new older brother.

After a year of helping Oliver around and training to fight decently and not only use your superhuman strenght, he finally let you come to a Justice League meeting.

You met Batman and Damian there, along with Superman and Jon to which you tried to get along with but the two of them were extremely clingy and knew a bit too much about you which creeped you out.

During the meeting you stayed very close to Oliver to avoid the two teens and also hide from Batman and Superman since they kept staring at you even while talking.

After the meeting Batman did try to approach you and you avoided him, but while walking away he just said "(Y/N)", which made you stop before walking off.

You immediately knew that he knew who you were under the mask but you didn't care that he knew.

You just ignored him and his calls, plus his sons calls. You refused to even give him a bit of attention, especially since he didn't bother you for years but now they wanted your attention?

God no, you still had dignity and self respect. Giving them attention would be like forgiving them for all those years of not even knowing you existed.

Finally the calls stopped but they started to appear everywhere you went in Central City.

You went to school? You were called in the principal office where Bruce was and scolded you lightly about putting your mother's last name when it should have been his.

Your hand started to bleed from how hard you were gripping it so you wouldn't yell at the man in front of the principal.

What you hated more was the look of love Bruce had when he scolded you, gently patting your head as he talked.

You showered at least three times before you finally felt clean after feeling Bruce touch you so lovingly.

Everywhere you went as you or as Spider, you would be met by either Bruce or one of his kids, which got even more frustrating when they would try to coax you to come back home to Gotham.

Dick would try to coax you, too into his delusional idea that you were being forced to stay here with Green Arrow even though you told him many times that it wasn't true.

He would also manipulate you by fake crying whenever you yelled at him or ignored him, making you even more frustrated because he kept on caring about himself and didn't see how you were happy in Star City.

Jason would just follow you and talk like you never left, complaining about Bruce or Damian and offered to go to a café or restaurant to catch up and see what you were up to.

Even yelling at him that he didn't care when you left didn't budge him and made him give up. No, it made him even more persistent on trying to act like you two were close and a happy family.

You also had to slam the door in Tim's face so many times whenever he would knock at the door of your apartment, you had to replace the doorknob and locks too many times to count from Tim picking the locks and you destroying the doorknob from your strenght.

Plus, arriving home to relax and seeing both Tim and Bruce in your apartment with dinner made you sick but you had to endure since you couldn't afford to change apartments since it was in the best position in the city.

Oh but Damian was the worst. He would act like he never hurt you sometimes or other times used his own past as a way to show that he had it worse than you.

Did you throw him off a building when he said that? Yes but unfortunately for you, Jon was there to catch him which made you even more frustrated.

Clark? He was decent sometimes, you met him before when he talked with Oliver and you were around but you always got a creepy vibe from him.

Especially when he kept on staring at you or gave you things like small trinkets you saw but never bought. It was so creepy that he knew what you liked, plus he kept on calling you nicknames like a father would do to his child.

Jon wasn't that bad. He did leave you alone when you asked but he also helped you. The only problem was that he acted like you were his older brother/sister and talked about times you two were together when you distinctly remember being alone when you did those things.

You did call Alfred once, he was the only one you told that you were Spider since he kept on asking why you were always full of bruises on your face and arms and you couldn't lie to him.

The call did not go well, with you yelling at Alfred that he ruined it since now Bruce knew who you were and he ruined your once happy life just because he wanted you back home.

After a while of seeing Bruce and his kids and them trying to manipulate you into going back home, plus Clark and Jon, you decided to go to the only person you trusted the most in Star City.

You went to Green Arrow and confessed to everything, you told him about your mother's death and how you were suddenly sent to a family who couldn't care less about you.

You didn't hide that you were Bruce's biological child and also showed him your scars that Damian made in the year he tormented you.

At the end of the confession you were crying, the memories of Damian hurting you with all the neglect and blatant hatred towards you made you breakdown in an ugly cry.

You kept crying even when Oliver hugged you, hugging him back with all your might as you didn't want him to leave you.

You did admit that you thought many times on going back since they kept on insisting and you weren't that strong, you couldn't resist forever with all that pressure.

By saying that, you felt Oliver freeze for a second before hugging you back and holding you close, like you hugging him with your super strength didn't faze him one bit.

What you didn't feel was the tiny prick of a needle being inserted in your neck, the only thing you last heard before collapsing in Oliver's arms were "sorry kid, can't let you leave me"

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uniquethingtastemaker · 15 days ago

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I've been working on a series called "Dreaming of You.” The premise is that when you jump into the romantic interest’s dream in Chapter 7, you’re there as their significant other

This is an update to this post, since much has changed! I'll add my writing status for them. I'll also include some samples for the ones I've been writing for. I'll put this on the Masterlist for everyone to see as I update it!

Another aspect that will be included in this series is showing how each love interest fell in love with Reader in the real world. This is usually formatted as a few flashback scenes from his POV, but some of them are special

(The writing status list from beginning to end is [Concept-> Idea-> Outline-> Writing])

Riddle — [writing. currently 24k, closest to done] Spicy! However, the focus is on character development. Multiple panic attacks with comfort (what can I say? the man is unstable). Lots of screaming from the cast. Riddle learns affection. Samples: Spicy! Hilarious. Serious. Deep.

Trey — [concept] Vague, but supporting Trey in Riddle's dream is what I want. Parent couple.

Cater — [outlining/writing. suspected to be 30-40k] Angst with comfort (gut-wrenching. the type where you have to pause, get up, and hold your head because your heart hurts. Don't worry, there's comfort!! A lot of it. that's why it's so long). Character deep dive and analysis. Peeling back Cater's mask to find insecurity, pessimism, low self-esteem, and more. He gets the attention and love he deserves. Still funny. It can't all be dark

Deuce — [idea] If Azul’s dream is most embarrassing in canon, Deuce’s is the most ridiculous in this series. I love him, but he can be so unobservant at times.

Leona — [concept] Leona's not happy in his dream... Idk what's going to happen, but it's going to be angst with a happy ending. (It's not like Cater's. That one can sneak up on you. This one is obvious depression)

Azul — [writing. currently 10k] Despite the cringe context, Azul is a good and dedicated boyfriend. Money's on the mind even in his dreams. MVP Floyd (it's a delight). Business power couple (be scared, run away). A few deeply (often unwillingly) vulnerable scenes with Azul due to outside circumstances. Reader swoops in to save the day, Azul style. Samples: Hilarious

Jade — [idea] He likes you the best, and it shows. You encourage crime.

Floyd — [idea] He missed you, and it shows. Gets angry and upset when he first sees you. Then, he figures out you're the fun Shrimpy and glomps you.

Kalim -- [idea/outlining] Kalim gets help in the real world! Yay! He acquired more self-sufficient skills. (You helped him, but didn't become his parent... Lilia became his dad, though lol) Unexpected intro to dream, but makes way too much sense once you think about it. He's surrounded by too many competent people, including himself, surprisingly (we like character growth here). It's a problem... Kalim has really good intuition

Vil — [outlining/writing] Chill Reader (Vil needs someone a little calmer than himself). Vil loves physical affection. Envy moment! Then, he immediately regrets something, like in canon. Open mouthed, can't breathe, gasping sobs from Vil. Slowly feeling out the new relationship.

Rook — [concept/idea] Rook usually takes a spectator role. It's not too different in his dream. Just a little more involved in Reader's happiness. A lot is unclear for this one

Idia — [idea/outline] "My family saw my search history and crush. Now I have to work with my target LI to defeat the ultimate boss, but my family and their company keep trying to wingman me," the fanfic. I love the Reader in this one. It's so funny

Malleus — [concept] Ace uses his unique magic on Malleus to put him to sleep. Unclear about the content

Silver — [idea/outline/writing? unclear. it's been through phases] Soft Silver. Helping the Diasomnia crew with their fundamental problems (Malleus-> Time management, Silver-> Narcolepsy accommodations, Sebek-> Racism). Getting Lilia's approval. Intense fight scene (it's so good. so tense, but so good). Sample: get wrecked sebek

Sebek — [idea/outlining] Reader schools Sebek, then chooses him over anyone else to confide in and trust (this is so important for him. I could do a whole analysis about this, but not here). Tactician Reader! (Sebek needs a strong leader figure, let's be honest) Multiple near-death experiences (was not expecting it to be this intense). Sebek steps up and does the right thing to protect Reader. Sweet relationship. Sebek is a little shy. Rollercoaster of emotions. It's intense

What do you think? Who are you excited for?! Leave it in the comments. It motivates me. Do you see how long my fanfics tend to be? I work hard lol. I need max support!

(I hate tags. I need more of them)

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bloodlinesgirly · 30 days ago

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Do I Wanna Know?- Jey Uso

Jey’s a serial cheater, but he can’t stand the thought of not having you. It just so happens you have a terrible habit of taking him back.

based on “Do I Wanna Know?”-Arctic Monkeys

word count: 2k

warnings: smut, cheating, makeup sex?, cursing, jey is a pos basically

likes, comments, and repost are always appreciated

also what do we think of the new look?

I dreamt about you nearly every night this week

How many secrets can you keep?

'Cause there's this tune I found

That makes me think of you somehow

And I play it on repeat

Until I fall asleep

Nights like these are his favorite to spend with you. The rain pats against the windows softly and the moon peeks through the curtains. Your warm body is pressed against him, your hair in his face making him sniffle. It’s comfortable. It’s exactly the way things are supposed to be. In jey’s mind, he was built for this, every fiber of his being craves it. He was built for you. He can hear the way you breathe and he still smells his cologne mixed with the scent of your clothes. His fingers run up and down your waist like he’s trying to memorize the texture of your skin. Everything about you is engraved in his mind, your hands branded onto his body. You’re half naked and sex is the last thing he can even think of like this. It’s so intimate, it’s raw and it’s real.

Except it’s not. All of those nights spent memorizing your body, your touch, your taste, your smell, it all adds insult to injury. The scenery is the same, he can smell the rain and feel the warmth of where you should be. But you’re not there. Nights like these are no longer his favorite. He wakes up speaking to himself, grasping onto nothing in hopes you’ll be there. The dreams are becoming a routine, every night he lies in bed and waits to see you, to feel you again. He sleeps a lot these days. Real or not, dream you is better than no you.

He dreams about your laugh and it makes him nauseous, it drips from your mouth like honey. He dreams about your body, the way you fit against him like a puzzle, the way he knew every inch.

“You like that?” His lips detach from your neck for just long enough to speak. He punctuates his words with another deep thrust. You moan into his ear making him shudder. “Talk to me baby…” He speaks gently.

“Yesss jey” You lul your head back, giving him more room to suck at your neck. You can feel the way his lips curl into a smile on your skin. His thrust pick up, like he’s trying to fuck his feelings into you. Jey’s never been one for passion…until you came along. He wants to make you feel good. He wants to keep you happy. He gave you the big engagement with the room full of roses and candles, the speeches and extravagant professions of love. He did all of it for you.

But he couldn’t give you it all. He was argumentative and untrustworthy, he left early and came home late, his phone was always face down when you were around.

“The fuck is your problem?” He spits at you. His phone was in your shaky hand and he lunged for it. It was too late. Once again you had already seen it all. The pictures, the text, the transactions, everything he was doing for another woman. This wasn’t the first time, or the second. You expected it by now, but it still lit your skin on fire.

“Why, jey?” Your voice is hushed and broken. “Why do you keep fuckin’ doing this?”

Usually you would yell and fight, but you're exhausted. You know there’s nothing else to fight for. Jey can see it in your eyes, there’s no forgiveness. No matter how hard he searched, he couldn’t find the hope he was so confident in. He fucked up. There was no apologizing, no promises he could make this time. He could feel it, you were done.

Crawling back to you

Ever thought of calling when you've had a few?

Or at least that’s how you wanted it.

It’s been a few months. You haven’t seen him around, you’ve avoided channels on TV you know he might show up on. This is good for you, you finally got away, pulled yourself out. Things were good, as long as you were distracted. The nights are when things got hard. You sigh to yourself as you climb under the covers, the bed was colder than usual and the bedroom felt empty. As much as you want to deny it, jey owns your mind in a way no one else ever could.

Why does he do this to you? Jey racks his own mind daily. It’s all he can think about anymore. Why? Why can’t he just love you the way he so badly wants to? Why does his love always have to be shared?. He’s selfish, nothing is ever enough, he always needs more. More than you can give him. His desire for more will always outway his feelings for you. The guilt kills him. It keeps him up at night, wondering what you're doing. Are you crying? Alone? Are you with someone new? He’s never felt like this before. Stupid, jealous, hurt, guilty, upset.

Jey’s sitting in his apartment alone, the room is pitch black besides the frequent glow from the hallway. The taste of liquor paints his tongue and wraps its way around his thoughts. The bottle is empty now, laying on the table in front of him. He slumps back into the cushions and runs a hand over his beard. Every breath he takes feels forced from his tight chest. His skin is hot to the touch, raging with regret.

With another heavy sigh he picks up his phone and fumbles to type in your number. He has it memorized, drunk or not. His heart pounds in his chest as he puts the speaker to his ear.

You’re still in bed when the ringtone pierces the silence.You’re breath hitches when you see his name flash across the screen. You shouldn’t answer. And you don’t. You just watch as it rings and his name disappears. The lump in your throat refuses to go down, you’re trembling now. His name flashes again, and he won’t stop calling.

You can’t stop your mind from racing with questions. What if something happened? What if he’s hurt?

So you pick up. The familiar sound of his breathing fills your ear. You feel uneasy, like you know this won't end well.

“Baby…” his speech is slurred and shaky.

“Jey no-” You speak with hesitation. He’s drunk, you can hear it in his voice. A small part of you is disappointed, this isn’t him, this is 2am and alcohol.

“let me talk” Jey can’t stop his voice from cracking desperately, he needs to hear your voice.

“I can’t even listen to you right now”

“I love you, so fuckn’ much….I miss you mama-jus’ talk to me” He wipes a tear threatening to fall down his cheek. He shouldn’t be like this, begging you to hear him out, yearning for you, craving just the slightest sign of forgiveness.

“Jey…” His words cut through you and make heat rise in your chest.

“I need you” He whispers in a “If i talk any louder i’ll cry” sort of way.

“Don’t say that” You can hear the hurt in his voice. You choke as you speak.

“I didn’t mean what I did, m’sorry baby, lemme come see you” Hot tears stain the corners of his eyes. He’s not asking, he’s pleading.

“That’s not how it works” It doesn’t come out as stern as you wanted it to.

“Please” You can hear his breath hitch.

“You’re drunk”

“That don’t mean shit, let me apologize” He’s getting angry, like he always has. He’s frustrated with himself and the fact that you can’t see that he’s being genuine.

“You did the same thing last time jey” You half sigh half sob.

“I know, i know i’m fucked up- i’m tryin to be better- better for you” He doesn’t care if he sounds weak anymore, he just needs you in his arms, or at least back in his life.

“Jey-” he cuts you off.

“M’sorry” He apologizes again. “Please- please just let me hold you”

Something about the way he speaks cracks you. He’s always been good at getting into your head. You’re letting him ruin you again and again.

“Okay.” You whisper.

Maybe I'm too busy being yours to fall for somebody new

It’s an endless cycle, Jey knows how to work his words, and you can’t help but believe him. The familiar coolness of the gold band sits heavy on your ring finger once again, just to get thrown across the room a few weeks later. But maybe it’ll be different this time. Maybe for once Jey can set his selfishness aside and love you for what you are. Maybe he won’t find himself craving something new.

“I’m sorry baby…” He whispers against your neck. His tongue trails across your collarbone, giving you goosebumps. He knows just where to touch to make you forget.

“Jey-” You’re cut off by a moan as he sinks two fingers into you and curls them upwards. He moves faster, and your wetness gushes down his wrist.

“Fuck yeah mama” he groans into the crook of your shoulder. He bucks his hips up, pressing his dick to your belly. He knows he’s winning, he can feel it. The closeness, his voice in your ear, the soft moans he’s pulling from your throat. You let him back into your bed, why not your heart?

You thread your fingers through his hair and tug as your own head luls back onto the pillow.

“Cum for me” his voice rumbles your skin.

That’s all it took for you to come crashing down. He continues to work his fingers as your shaky thighs shut around his wrist. Your overstimulated whimpers and the rapid pulsing of your tight hole only drive him further. His hand is coated and his fingers come out more slick each time he drives them into you.

“Ffuck, jey- baby…please” Your voice is hoarse as you plead with him. You slide your hand down to where he’s pressed against you. His cock jumps as you graze him.

“You gonna let me fuck this pussy baby?” he cocks his head a little before releasing himself from his sweats.

“Please” He barely lets you get the word out before he’s lining himself up with your entrance. You hiss at the stretch of him pushing into you.

“Missed this s’much, missed you.” He half-moans as he sets a steady pace, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass fills the silence.

“Faster-” You buck your hips to meet his.

Jey’s eyes light up at your command, he puts one foot on the bed to get a new angle, his hips move faster and the noises get louder. Every moan spurs him on. “Sshit pussy’s always so tight.” He grunts through his teeth. “That feel good?”

“Mhmmm fuck…” You whine as his thumb makes contact with your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles.

He’s too good. He makes it so easy to just forgive him-forget every time he’s broken you.

Your second orgasm comes fast, his fingers working your clit and his cock stretching you open.

“Cum with me mama, wet that shit up while I nut” His thrust get erratic as he chases his own release. With one final harsh thrust he stills. His dick pulses inside of you as hot ropes of his cum leak onto the sheets.

“I mean it, i’m sorry for doing that shit.” He pauses to let you get comfortable, your head is on his bare chest as he rakes his fingers through your hair. “I need you-”

“Jey-”

“No, stop.” He cuts you off. “Lemme be better.” He kisses the top of your head. “I love you”

You hesitate before speaking. “I love you too”

Now, I've thought it through

Crawling back to you

#bloodlinesgirly #wwe smut #wwe fanfiction #wwe x reader #wwe #jey uso 18+#we want jey #jey uso x fem reader #jey uso #jey uso smut #bloodline smut #wwe x fem reader #wwe raw #the usos #what more can i say #he’s a pos

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months ago

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Can't Have One Without the Other 6

Warnings: non/dubcon, marital troubles, body insecurity, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Summary: your marriage is on the rocks.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You sit before your tablet. The screen is blanket as you twirl it around and around. It's easy when you have an assignment. On your own, you have nothing. Every ounce of inspiration is gone. Wrung out by your indifference and exhaustion.

You sigh and put the pen down. You lean your head in your hands and sigh. There's something wrong with you. A lot, actually. It's not just Bucky and whatever's going on there, it's you. Something's missing. Or broken.

You lock the screen and stick the pen to the side. You shut the light off as you leave your office and go down to the kitchen. You open the fridge and take out what you need.

After your workout, you went to that all-organic store. Then you came home and did a deep clean of the fridge, switching out all the junk for the healthier options. It kept you busy enough not to think. That seems to be the problem. Thinking.

You rinse the chickpeas and the lettuce, you cut the chicken into strips to bake. High protein, low cal. It will keep you from snacking but a double chocolate cheesecake would be better. You sigh and push away the craving.

As the chicken cooks, you stand by the oven and absorb its warmth. You zone out as you stare at the wall. You used to cook together. He even taught you how to make the water cake his mom cooked during the hard years. That was fun. It was the closest he got to talking about before.

"Hey, doll," Bucky startles you and your eyes come into focus. "How's my best gal?"

You're jarred by the brightness in his voice. More so by the colourful bunch in his hand. He wiggles the bouquet towards your face.

"Got some of that German beer," he lifts the six pack of short bottles. "The kind you like."

You accept the carnations. You look over the pink, white, and purple petals. You make yourself smile as your insides rot. What were you thinking earlier?

"I'll get a vase," you say then pause. "Thanks, honey."

You shift and pucker your lips. He cranes to kiss you and taps your ass. "That's what I'm talking about," he comments as he parts.

You turn and search for a vase. You take it out and add water and the stems. The stove opens.

"What're we having?" He asks.

"Um, I was making a chicken and chickpea salad but if you want, I can do up some rice with yours."

"Sounds good to me," he says as he shuts the door. "You know my favourite part is dessert."

You set the vase on the corner of the counter and turn it to show the most vibrant flowers. He comes up behind you and his hands settle on your hips. He inhales the scent of your hair.

"You worked out today," he mutters. He can smell the sweat. You changed your clothes but since you cleaned up, you didn't bother showering yet. You assumed he'd be late.

"Just a bit," you shrug and touch his hands.

He reluctantly lets you go as you move around him. You take down two bowls. You feel him watching.

"You know you only think those things about yourself, I don't," he leans on the counter. "I never said you were fat."

You wince, "I know, Bucky. It's not... It's my own problem. I understand."

"Hm, it's our problem, we're married," he comes closer. "You know, you're saying I'm the one not talking. You're not exactly chatty yourself."

"Sorry, I... I'm tired. I went shopping and cleaned and... probably didn't do as much as you," you look down guiltily.

"Doesn't matter. You did lots," he insists as he touches your lower back. "Again, not me saying so, is it?"

"No, guess not. Sorry." You keep your head down.

He reaches to frame your chin, his fingers stretching up your cheek. He turns your head. You meet his eyes as he smiles. It doesn't reach his eyes.

"Don't be, not for that," He squeezes and you whimper. You grab onto his wrist as panic surges in your chest. You turn to him completely. "But you should be sorry."

"Ow, Bucky, ow, what're you--" His metal fingers dig into your cheeks. He's never touched you like this. He was always a bit reticent to do so with his metal hand.

"Divorce." He growls. "Nat fucking told me." He scoffs and pens you against the counter. "It's called fucking loyalty and she's got a lot more than you do."

"What? No, I didn't... Bucky... I haven't--"

"You're not going to. We'll fix this."

You whine and slap his bicep, "you're hurting me--"

"Me hurting you?" He hisses. "You went behind my fucking back."

"No, I didn't-- argh! Get off of me," you smack him again. "Bucky, please."

"After last night, I thought we were back, baby."

"It's... I was confused. I didn't do anything--"

"You lied to me. You faked it, didn't you?"

"What?" You wheeze, head thrumming from the pressure.

"Last night, when you came for me. You were fucking lying." He snarls as his nose touches yours. "Then you went out and fucking humiliated me. Saying you're gonna leave me."

"I didn't say that--"

"I love you. You know I do. You fucking know it," he breathes.

"I know, Bucky, I love you too." You rub his chest, "but you're hurting me."

He bares his teeth and shoves you away. A hot pain sears along your cheekbones. You cradle your face as the sudden warm flow at the gash left from the vibranium plate. You gasp and look at him, shakily pulling your fingers away to see the blood. He sees it too. He heaves visibly.

"Shit," he looks at his hand, "I shoulda got that fixed--"

You press your fingers back to the cut as the iron smell of blood overwhelms you. He comes toward you and you slide along the counter.

"Doll, I didn't mean to do that--"

"Don't--" you put your other hand out. "I... I'll just clean up. Please." You barely hold back the quaver in your voice. "Please, just... take the chicken out before it burns."

You move cautiously past him, too afraid too look directly at him. He doesn't try to follow you. You rush out to the bathroom and shut the door with your foot. You turn and look in the mirror. Ow.

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #series #can't have one without the other #mcu #marvel #captain america #winter soldier #avengers

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erinwantstowrite · 3 months ago

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what do you like to hc about tim drakes childhood? like I remember you mentioning something about him stalking the bats at night being fun (I think) but what about his parents and stuff? And like just tim hc in general I guess:)

i loooove the hc that tim was stalking the bats as a kid. Mostly because it's funny as hell, and that it makes sense for his character. With how he shows up in their lives, i wouldn't doubt that he had been watching them or keeping tabs on them somehow.

HOWEVER... I'm gonna be a little controversial... I don't like his parents being majorly abusive towards him. For starters, it's not canon and feels like a cop out sometimes for the way Tim is. He is a freaky little genius, and he's just Like That. I honestly don't think his parents had much imput on that part of his behavior. He just turned out Like That.

But!!! I also recognize that Tim was, in fact, abused. It was a while back and so i don't remember exactly which comic it was, but i'm pretty sure at some point after his mother's death, Tim and Jack started getting into arguments a lot and it felt pretty emotionally abusive with how Jack acted. And in canon, the fact that Tim was able to get away with like, literally everything he did, is because I imagine his parents weren't keeping an eye on him

That's not to say he wasn't taken care of- Tim had friends, he went to a boarding school (at least i'm pretty sure he did), he regularly interacted with people and he wasn't physically neglected in any way. Emotionally? That's where Tim wasn't getting his needs met. They were gone a lot for their archaeology studies and etc, and so I hc that Jack and Janet really only had a kid because they felt like it was the most natural progression for their marriage, not because they truly wanted one. They love Tim, don't get me wrong, but they were pretty distant with that love.

I also hc that Janet was closer to him before she died. I think her having health problems and being tired a lot would make it harder for her to connect with Tim when she's actually home, but she would make an effort and keep an eye on how he's doing at school and with his friends. She has the healthier relationship with him, but Tim might not know if it's because she was that good, or if it was because she was never around to have fights with.

Jack also loves Tim (as evidenced by the fact that when Jack is finally seeing Tim on a daily basis, he takes notes of Tim's behavior and schedule, and he figures out Tim's identity as Robin. AND the fact that he sent a search party for Tim during that time Gotham was blocked off from the rest of the world and etc). I also think he takes pride in the fact that Tim is so smart and good with people. But I give him that flavor of father that doesn't exactly know how to put that into words or actions, and just expects Tim to know it. There's also the fact that when Jack was alive, there was some emotionally manipulative conversations about Robin, Tim's life, etc. Jack might have been doing these things as a scared parent and wasn't aware that this was what he was doing, but it was in fact still pretty fucked up and I'm sure it left a lasting mark on Tim

So in Tim's eyes, they never really talk about "I love you" and stuff, because his parents didn't really feel the need to say it out loud. I think they're not the mushy type or overtly affectionate.

But, you know. Tim's a kid. And as smart as he is (we'll get to that in a second), a kid who doesn't hear "I love you" often might... wonder. Because they're never home and he's always at school, and he only really gets validation from them when he excels at school or with higher society. (I'm pretty sure in the comics, Tim wasn't as high society as fanon makes him out to be, but I like the idea of Tim being a little higher up there because it adds to that air of distance and reputation.) Him learning "I love you" means "I love you, but from over here", makes sense for how Tim is. He loves his people, but unless prompted to say it, he sort of assumes people get what he means, sometimes. Not all the time, because Tim has had interaction with friends (I'll say it again, fanon lovers: Tim has friends both as a vigilante AND as a civilian, he is not isolated from the world), he's not oblivious to the fact that sometimes it needs to be said. He's probably much better at it than his parents.

That goes to say, though, that I think Tim also isn't the type to delve really deep into his emotions. Not outwardly, anyway. He's just like his parents, after all. I'd think he HATES being vulnerable. ANY sort of expression of weakness or failure gets amplified in his mind and he takes that on like "I am now the worst." He sees his love for both friends and family as something to give, to offer, and likes being useful in that love. "I love you, from here, and loving from over here means I have to give things." I think he hates crying in front of people, and if Tim is crying in front of you it's either REALLY, REALLY bad, or he just trusts you THAT much. In the comics, Tim says that he doesn't know his worth outside of being Robin. (More proof DC needs to let him MOVE ON FROM ROBIN!!) He sees himself as being his most useful, and most cared about, and most able TO care about others, when he is Robin. That's why he's so confident in his role as Robin, why he told Jason (not a direct quote) "I actually am better than you, bitch" when they fought at Titan's Tower. Robin is the best of Tim, someone who can't make failures, who was taught by Batman and seen as useful by people he respects a lot. (He also wouldn't dare make any besmirch on Robin's name for Dick's sake. Because that's his hero and big brother.)

And now to get to how smart Tim is, and why I love the hc that he stalked the Bats as a kid so much:

All of these headcanons for his family history helps fit into the most canon version of Tim, imo, and doesn't dull the fact that Tim is clever as hell. Tim was neglected by his parents, for sure. But he still was watched. He had supervision, they have rules at these boarding schools. Tim is the type to get around those rules and sneak out whenever he wants. Maybe it started as something to do to get his parents attention, but no one ever caught him because Tim was so good at escaping. And then he starts seeing the Bats and the hobby evolves from there. He goes Batwatching and no one at school is any the wiser about it. He gets photos and knows their patrol routes, he gets good at parkouring around Gotham and ups his stamina (I think while Tim might not be the strongest or the most flexible of the Bats, he'd the one with the most stamina and therefore, is the fastest fo them). No one even suspecting that Tim is gone at night, especially at a pricey boarding school with security and probably someone in charge of making sure kids at the dorms aren't doing anything stupid, makes Tim look a lot more clever and sneaky than a kid who just has to get around a camera at his family home.

And if you personally like Tim being at home more than at a school, and he actually is neighbors with the Waynes and therefore would have a pretty big house, his parents would 1000% have staff at the house. Bruce Wayne is strange for having only ONE staff member, Alfred, for a manor. The Drakes are well off CEOs that get to gallivanting around the world for their hobby, they know how to hire a whole bunch of people to take care of the big house they bought and "modernized." For large houses like that, you definitely need more than one person keeping an eye on it. So in this case, yeah, Tim would also be very clever to get around someone there at the house where there entire purpose for being there is watching the kid.

Tim stalking the Bats also just... Makes sense. Because I think Tim 1) broke into Titan's Tower BEFORE ever meeting Dick, 2) found out where Dick lives and met Kori there who was like "What???" 3) knew where the circus was when Dick went there to visit and investigate it, 4) figured out their identities in the first place. People often forget that with detective characters, you're gonna have one of their biggest traits be curiosity. You're telling me a really smart kid just found out the identities of Batman and Robin and he did nothing about that information until later? Baloney! For sure he was doing shit he wasn't supposed to! Tim Drake's biggest trait is also the fact that he has no self preservation instincts and is likely only still alive because 1) it'd disappoint/make Batman and Nightwing sad and 2) he's lucky as hell. Tim is a clever kid who likely thinks he's invicible based on survivor's bias or something like it. "Well of course I got out of that pickle, I'm not an idiot." Is probably his catchphrase

#thank you for the ask!#tim drake #robin!tim #tim drake headcanons #he's weird <3 #dick grayson #batman #bruce wayne #tim drake's parents #janet drake #jack drake #just my opinion

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strawberry-nugget · 1 month ago

Text

Chapter 2 // prev. chapter

~Technically this should be your fresh start. Moving to Japan as a single mom and getting a regular job, living the peaceful life you've always wanted. But trouble finds you in every corner, taking either the form of those weird monstrous things you catch in a blurry half gaze ocassionally, or of that extremely hot single dad, whose son, Megumi is friends with your daughter.

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Tags // Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, canon divergence, single parents au!, slow burn(ish), car sex, unprotected sex, p in v sex, handjobs (yes while driving), creampies, kinda sleazy Toji, reader can see curses, drifting

Word Count: 9,9k

It’s been a week since he came to your house.

The days stretch long, hot, and quiet. Toji hasn’t texted again. Not a meme, not a dad joke, not even an accidental thumbs-up reaction to his own message so you can convince yourself he checks maniacally for a response as much as you want to give him one.

Still, it’s only ever just that single message from the other night staring at you from behind the screen. The one he dropped between you like a match and walked away before it could catch fire.

You figure something must’ve come up. Probably Megumi—maybe he got a cold, or got that dreadful stomach flu that’s been going around that you are praying your daughter doesn’t get as well.

With the way your engine has been growling this whole week, you’d die if you had Mai-Mai cry over her tummy hurting too.

Today, the evening settles in with a haze of humidity and burnt orange sky. You’re under the hood of your car, determined to find the reason behind the weird sounds your engine’s been making—sounds you’re now convinced are from that fucked up gas you filled it up with last week.

Your tank top clings to your back, sticky and damp, your arms streaked in grease, your collarbone darkened with fingerprints of oil and sweat. Your hair’s pulled back but messy, a few strands curling against your temples, and your hands are wrist-deep in wires and metal.

You find yourself thinking about it—the text—as the air thickens and your fingers search for problems in the guts of your car. You’d let it sit too long. That’s what happens when someone like him sends you something so casual, so simple, and you don’t know how to answer without sounding like you’re choking on your own anticipation.

Next time I see you, you better show me how you drift.

He didn’t even add a smiley face. Just that low, heavy suggestion sitting at the bottom of your chat like a weight.

Maybe if you busy yourself enough, you won’t keep replaying his voice in your head. The way he said your name—rough and warm, like it meant something. The soft rasp of it, half-dragged over a laugh. And that look he gave you, like you were a question he was dying to answer with his hands.

It shouldn’t get to you. It’s your own thoughts, you tell yourself. Your imagination going wild. If he’s so casual to be like this with you an hour into knowing you then…He’s probably like that with every woman. Probably doesn’t even remember what he texted. Probably didn’t think twice about the way he leaned too close or brushed your fingers when he handed you his phone or offered to help with getting Mai-Mai into your car like it was instinct.

Still.

Still, you feel him like a pressure behind your ribs. Still, your stomach twists when you think about the way he looked at you up and down.

Now, with sweat beading along your spine and your hands sore, you don’t expect anything except maybe a cold shower and a frozen dinner, if you’re lucky enough.

Luck has always been a weird concept to you though. Maybe it’s that weird manifestation thing you’ve realised you can do, or it’s that gut feeling that something’s bound to happen if you keep thinking about it because there’s no other way you can explain how on earth he runs into you in your backstreet.

For all that's worth it— you hear him before you see him.

It’s like he’s already making a habit out of creeping up on you when you’re bent over your car.

For a prideful moment, you convince yourself he’s just drawn to your ass; then you shove that thought away like a bunched up paper in a trash bin. Like he can’t be.

But you can’t help it—the awareness is instant. Your spine straightens a little, the drag of your fingers slows in the engine, and your mouth goes dry before he even says a word. You tell yourself to be cool. Which works about as well as it usually does.

“Didn’t know you were working on her tonight,” he says, voice low and curved with something unreadable.

Your stomach drops.

He doesn’t say hey, doesn’t greet you in a normal way at all, like the two of you are way past that even if it’s just the second time you're seeing each other.

Quick — how do you talk to someone whom you’ve practically ghosted?

You don’t look up right away. Let him wait. Let him see you wipe the sweat from your brow with the back of your wrist, grease smearing your temple. You know you look fucked up, even feel how gross you might look or smell but at least you’re trying to convince yourself you can make it look even a tad bit sexy.

You turn, slow, like you’re not internally vibrating as you are met with the sight of him in a shirt that hugs his frame like it was born there, baggy sweatpants —you ignore the crocs, so you don’t laugh in his face about them and because his biceps look like they’re about to burst. So much that it serves as a great distraction.

“Didn’t plan to,” you say, casual. Careful not too be not too much “She was whining again. Thought I’d check the belts.”

He’s closer now. Arms crossed, weight leaned into one hip, eyes flicking between the hood and the tank top clinging to your ribs. You feel the heat of his stare like a spotlight.

“And? Find anything?”

“I think it’s the gas I put in it yesterday. So much for trying to get the cheaper choice. I should have known better”

You wipe your palms onto the sides of your cargos at that, turning to fully focus on him. A bead of sweat runs down your chest and he catches it with his eyes, like it’d ever escape him.

It’s too soon to make such a bold move as to reach his hand and wipe it off—or worse, lick it. The sight punches something low in his gut, drags his attention from the smudge on your neck to the way your fingers curl around your tools with muscle memory. Like you belong there. Like this whole scene belongs on a magazine spread labeled.

“Problem?” You look like you’d just smirk from under your lashes.

“You sure it’s the car that’s whining?” he asks, and there’s that smirk again, like he’s already tasted the silence that follows.

You tilt your head. “You calling me dramatic?”

He almost turns around. Raises both his hands in the air in surrender.

He’s not proud of the part of him that wants to watch you longer, silent, soaking in the view like it’s his business. But he clears his throat and steps into your clear line of sight.

You look up, and he sees it—that flicker in your eyes. The flash of surprise. You cover it quick, but he catches it. Just like he catches the way your jaw tightens. Like you’re mad at yourself for hoping he’d show up.

That's exactly when he knows, he’s got you right where he wants.

“God, you’re a piece of work, ain't you?”

You shoot him a look that lands somewhere between annoyed and amused. Exactly where he likes to keep you.

The ball is yours now to shoot.

And you do—only not in the way he expects.

“Haven’t seen you and Megumi all week, is everything alright?”

“He's been feeling under the weather, you know how four year olds catch a bug and suddenly you’re canceling your whole life to wipe noses and warm soup.”

You nod, trying not to show too much relief, or worse—interest. But it’s already out there, raw and embarrassing. The truth is you’ve been wondering. Not just because you’ve missed the kid’s giggles echoing through your living room or the way Toji has that infuriating ability to take up space without asking—but because you care.

“You didn’t tell me” you say, softer now, wiping your hands on your cargos again just for something to do.

Toji tilts his head. He doesn’t look sorry. Not exactly. But there’s something in the way his gaze narrows, like he’s reading more out of your words than you meant to give.

“Didn’t think you missed me that much.”

You roll your eyes so fast you almost give yourself a headache. “Mai-Mai missed Megumi.”

He hums. “Suuuuure.”

There’s a beat. You’re still half-under the hood, half-exposed to the dying heat of the sun, and Toji’s leaning closer now, like your little denial just fed him instead of shut him down. He taps one knuckle against the frame of the car like he needs something to do with his hands, like he’s trying to anchor himself.

Toji lets out a slow breath. Then, almost too casually, “You know, you could’ve texted too.”

You peek at him from under your arm. “Yeah. I… didn’t know if I should.”

“I texted you first”

“That you did”

“And I hate waiting” he smirks again, pushing past that unspeakable and invisible barrier that should be between you and him -an almost stranger- “you gonna show me how you drift or what?”

You like it— the way he catches you off guard and pushes in closer with just words. And even though he doesn’t say it, he likes seeing you like this too—raw, annoyed, sweat-slicked and glowing in the burn of the sun— it does something to him he’s not ready to unpack, but will, nevertheless.

You ponder about it for a moment. The thought of you showing off how you drift to him, that is.

It’s Friday, there absolutely should be a place in the heart of Tokyo to drift, one of those usual get-togethers that you went to during the week and the idea of winning a drift race, getting money and impressing Toji is too mouth watering. However it’s also illegal. And you can only waste too much of your luck once a week.

Then again, now that you’ve planted this idea in your own head it’s hard to let go of it.

“Well I could-“

“Atta girl” he says and interrupts you, but you don’t wield this simply.

“-tonight.”

Toji blinks at you.

“My sister came to visit so she can watch Mai-Mai, if you can find someone to watch your Megumi” you say “I’ll shower, get ready and I’ll pick you up. And please by love of god, lose the crocs. These guys are gonna eat you up”

Toji snorts, shoulders shaking just a little with the kind of laugh he only lets slip when something really amuses him. You’ve got him aaaaall wrong. But he doesn’t mind, because you are way more readable than you think.

“Didn’t know you cared about my fashion choices,” he says, half-teasing, half-testing. “You trying to get me to impress anyone?”

You blink, mouth parting, but nothing comes out except the faintest uhhh. He grins, like he’s won something you didn’t know you were playing for.

“Thought so,” he mutters, then straightens up and stretches like he’s got all the time in the world, like you didn’t just invite him into a part of your life most people never see. Not just the drifting, but the in-between. The sweat and grease and dumb jokes. The space where he could, if he’s careful, belong.

“Alright then,” he says, nodding, looking just smug enough to be annoying. “I’ll see if the neighbor kid’s mom can take Gumi for a few hours.”

“Great,” you reply, with more bite than grace. “Try not to show up in pajamas.”

Suddenly you find out that keeping this teasing tone between you and him suits the tone and nature of your relationship.

“Can’t make promises, sweetheart.”

You flip him off without even looking, already halfway back under the hood to hide your face.

But Toji just walks away, steps slow, deliberate—grinning like a fucking bastard the whole time. Because tonight, you’re going to show him what that car can do. And he’s going to see exactly how far you’ll go to win. Maybe even how far you’ll go for him.

_____

You pull up outside of his apartment just past nine, the engine a low purr under your seat as you lean an elbow against the window frame. The street is quiet, lights dim and flickering over the cracked pavement, but your car is anything but subtle tonight—cleaned until it gleams under the yellow and orange street lamps, tires still warm from the tension of anticipation.

You text once.

Well, at least it’s not double texting since he did send you his address after you messaged him asking for it.

You: I’m outside. Don’t take ten years.

A minute later, the front door opens and he steps out, hands in his pockets, wearing the same black compression shirt from before, silver chain catching the light around his neck and fortunately he's made the effort to pair his top with dark , baggy jeans. His hair’s pushed back like he didn’t try too hard, but the second his eyes land on you—really see you—he stops in his tracks.

Because, well yeah, maybe you went a little overboard. Black halter crop top, tight across your ribs open all over your chest, breasts all pushed by just how tight it is, a denim skirt, belt buckle winking like a challenge. Brown leather jacket draped over the back of your seat and matching cowboy boots, lips glossed just enough to look like trouble.

You’re not even trying to seduce him—at least, you tell yourself that—but there’s something about the way he just stands there, smirking like you’ve already stepped into his trap, that makes your pulse skip.

He opens the passenger side door slowly, leans down just a little, eyes dragging over you as if he’s reading a fucking manual.

“Well, shit.”

You glance over at him, feigning innocence. “Something wrong?”

He huffs a low laugh, gets in, shuts the door.

“Nah,” he says, adjusting his seat in need of a distraction. “Just didn’t know I was gettin’ picked up by a Bond girl.”

You roll your eyes and turn the key, shifting into gear. “Thought I told you to ditch the Crocs.”

He wiggles his foot, now covered in dark sneakers. “I listened. Proud of me?”

“Hmm, yeah yeah” you pout.

But your voice has a rasp to it now, tight in your throat. Because he keeps looking at you—up and down, like he’s taking inventory. Like he can’t decide whether to whistle or bite.

Well, if you were trying to seduce him, you would have loved the way he decides to bite his lip and shakes his head in amusement as he slides into your passenger seat.

“You dress like that for the crowd,” he says, casually, “or for me?”

“I dress like this for me,” you answer, trying to keep your tone flat, steady. But you know he knows it’s a lie. Or at least, not the whole truth.

Uh-oh, he’s onto you.

“Huh,” he says, dragging the syllable out as he settles deeper into the seat, getting too comfortable as he eyes you up and down “So it just happens to be my lucky night, then?”

You don’t reply. Not right away.

But your hand shifts on the wheel. Tightens just a little. Your nails dig into your palm.

And Toji sees it.

He grins like a man who’s just seen the river card fall in his favor.

“I’m not gonna lie,” he says, voice low and continues before he cuts off his own self with a laugh “If you drive like you look tonight… I might actually-”

You snort under your breath, cheeks hot, heart hammering and finally, you turn the keys into the ignition.

___

The city swells around your car in waves of neon and engine growls, headlights slicing through alleys that don’t belong on any map. You’re driving fast enough to make the suspension whisper, but smooth enough not to jostle Toji in the passenger seat—he hasn’t said a word in the last ten minutes, which is impressive considering he’d been side-eyeing your outfit since he stepped out of the house.

Now, he’s sprawled in your passenger seat like he owns the damn thing—legs open, one knee bouncing, hand tapping against the door in slow, rhythmic thuds, the other resting over his knee. You catch him watching the skyline blur out of the corner of your eye, a faint grin tugging at his mouth like he’s already five steps ahead of wherever you’re going.

“You always take your first dates through a construction zone?” he asks, voice gravelly amused.

You scoff. “This ain’t a date.”

“Mmh,” he hums, not arguing, just letting it hang there between you.

The alley opens.

And there it is.

A rooftop lot that pulses with life—part underground haven, part holy ground. The air here tastes like exhaust and trouble, music pounding from subwoofers stacked on milk crates. Floodlights cut sharp shadows over every cracked patch of asphalt, every spray of tire-burned circles. Hoods are popped. Boots are up. Eyes are watching.

Toji lets out a low whistle and leans forward, elbow on his knee. “You brought me to a damn Fast and Furious reboot,” he says, sounding more entertained than scared.

Your mouth opens and shuts once. You’re tasting how sweet your lipgloss is, smell your perfume—you definitely look the part he states. But….You didn’t do it for him.

You didn’t.

In retrospect, maybe you shouldn’t have brought him to such an illegal place, you barely even know him and you’ve got a whole kid in a foreign country that ideally, you wouldn’t want to get deported from and you still don’t know if you can trust him and yet as if he reads your mind, Toji chuckles low.

“Relax. I ain’t judging. Just… surprised you’d bring me here.” His voice dips, almost amused. “Place like this? It’s dangerous.”

You glance at him sideways, engine now idling low. “Thought you liked danger.”

That gets you a sharp look, quick and loaded. But he doesn’t answer. Instead, he nods toward the starting line where two modded imports finish a race with the stench of burning rubber curling behind them.

You pull into a spot off to the side and let the engine purr, hands still on the wheel, teeth digging into the inside of your cheek hard enough to cut through the delicate tissue.

You smirk, awkwardly, keeping both hands on the wheel. “You said you hated waiting.”

“I didn’t know you were gonna take me to a pit of unpaid parking tickets.”

You don’t answer—just pull into your usual corner spot, not too far from the start line. You slide the car into park, engine still humming beneath the hood, and finally glance at him. He looks like he belongs here without even trying—black jacket draped open (how did you never notice he was holding one in the first place is behind you), dark eyes roaming the crowd like he’s already assessing which of these men are too drunk to bet against you.

As your usual ritual requests, you just have to open the hood of your car for the world to see. You eye Toji, signaling him to get out of the car and push the button to open your hood before grabbing the door handle.

You step out into the night, a little adrenaline already licking up your spine. The pavement is warm under your boots, and the air’s thick with engine smoke and sweat. Familiar faces nod your way. Some cheer. One girl whistles.

“You judging my taste in extracurriculars?” You mutter, bending over your open hood, this time saving Toji from sparing him a glance to catch him red handed. You’re too sure he’s looking.

Toji shrugs. “Nah. I’m impressed.”

But the attention Toji draws is different. Curious. Appraising. Some of the other drivers clearly don’t know what to make of him because they’ve never seen him before, and you know that smirk on his face well enough by now—he’s enjoying it.

Someone approaches. A guy in a muscle tee, cocky and slow, eyes flicking from you to Toji. “He your spotter or something?”

“She’s my ride,” Toji says smoothly, before you can open your mouth and your face purses in sourness.

The guy pauses.

And you—deadpan—just raise your brows. “I’m driving. He’s observing.”

Then when the guy shoos away, scared of the death stares by the both of you; you say it.

“I’m gonna race.”

Toji’s brow ticks up. “Yeah?”

You don’t look at him, eyes on the lineup. “I know these guys. They’ll throw down good money if they think they can smoke me.”

A pause. You feel it when he shifts, weight turning just slightly toward you.

“You think you can take them?”

“Oh…” You smile, lips dry. “I know I can.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then he clicks his tongue. “Now this I wanna see.”

You wave the marshal over with two fingers, voice steady even as your stomach tightens. “One round, cash in hand. You want drama, I’ll give you smoke.” He nods, even smiles at you and mutters something about being happy to have you back and gives you a playful pat across your shoulder.

“Now we wait” you turn to Toji, who cocks an eyebrow at you, too nonchalant to ask ‘what’.

“See how much people bet”

Something in his gaze darkens. Like he’s found his next betting addiction.

To anyone betting money on you or your car, Toji’s presence is oil on fire.

He doesn’t say anything, not right away—just leans back against your car with his arms crossed over his chest, that lazy, dangerous grin playing at his mouth like he’s more comfortable in this chaos than anyone else. A cigarette dangles between his fingers, untouched. Like he lit it just to pass the time, not because he wanted to smoke. He doesn’t even look at the other guys. Doesn’t have to. They’re already looking at him.

And not kindly.

You hear one mutter behind you, “Who’s the suit?”

Toji catches it, of course he does. Doesn’t move, doesn’t flinch. Just tips his head slightly in his direction.

“He your sponsor or your bodyguard?” someone else snickers. A guy you’ve smoked twice before, who always bets against you like it’s a personal mission when he’s not racing.

You don’t answer them. You just check your tire pressure again and pop the trunk for your helmet. But Toji… oh, he’s getting that look again. That glint that says he’s seconds away from doing something wicked.

“The helmet’s for you. You’re riding with me”

“Damn,” he murmurs, leaning just a little closer. “Should I be wearing a helmet?”

Toji smiles, then rushes into your car when the marshal announces the money price you asked for has finally been gathered.

The crowd’s grown louder by the time you line up. Neon strobes sweep across your dash as you adjust the mirrors, the lights stinging pink and green across Toji’s face. He doesn’t say anything. Just watches you with that sharp, too-aware stare while he’s trying to figure out what exactly you’re made of.

Your opponent rolls up beside you in a lowered RX-7, a veilside one, but it just doesn’t look like yours, decals crawling across the hood, the engine guttural and twitchy.

“Great,” you mutter. “Another twitchy trust fund kid.”

Toji laughs once, low in his throat. “You nervous?”

You tap your fingers on the gearshift. “Not about the race… try not to flinch Pa-”

Toji stills.

Then he smirks, slow and crooked. “I'm not that old now Ma, huh?”

The flag drops before you can even fire back.

You floor it.

The tires shriek, the rear kicks, and the force yanks both your shoulders into the seat as the car surges forward. You’ve done this a hundred times before—breathed this heat, kissed this speed—but something about having Toji beside you, cool and wordless, changes the pulse of the air. Every move you make, he’s watching. Not the road. You.

Your helmet stands on the floor between his legs and he. doesn’t. flinch. he doesn’t even blink. Like he’s felt this speed and energy before.

That eerie feeling about him is back again.

The second you slam the clutch and whip the wheel, tires screeching, he grins.

It’s not just any grin.

That feral, toothy thing you’ve only seen from gamblers mid-win or men about to do something stupid.

The first turn comes hard and fast, and you ease into the drift like your body’s stitched into the machine—tires skimming the paint of the barricade, smoke curling behind you like a signature. The RX-7 is just a breath behind, but your line is tighter, smoother.

Another turn comes ahead.

You take the turn tighter than you should. The back fishtails and you catch it clean, body jolting with the force—and he’s laughing. Actually laughing.

“Holy shit,” he says “You’ve been hiding this from me?”

“Well I did just meet you” you remind him

You can feel the way Toji shifts, not afraid—interested. The corner of your eye catches the way he presses one palm flat to the dash, not because he’s bracing. But because he’s feeling it.

“Are you betting?” you call over the engine.

He grins. “Didn’t have to. You’re already paying me back in full.”

You take the next two curves without thinking, pure muscle memory, slicing through Tokyo’s underbelly like it’s yours to conquer. The final stretch is a blur of lights and screaming engines and one wrong move from chaos.

There’s smoke everywhere and that unpleasant smell of tires melting and merging with the street underneath.

But you don’t miss.

You cross the finish line three seconds ahead from what you had originally counted. And your opponent, distracted by it, crashes the tail of his car, earning the crowd’s distress—Toji’s too.

You win.

Clean.

The moment the tires screech to a stop, the crowd explodes behind you—cheers, catcalls, people slapping bills into open palms like they can’t believe they lost.

And Toji?

He whistles low, looking at you the whole time. You don’t let him speak, set on pumping a punchline at him. Show off.

You bite back a grin, eyes still on the crowd gathered around your car. “Ask and you shall receive.”

Then he leans in, close enough that his breath slides across your cheek.

“I knew you were a menace,” he says again, voice low and warm.

You grin, still panting, still burning.

But behind his smile—behind the praise—you’re too naive to see the glint of something darker, something sharper.

A man doing math.

A man realizing just how dangerous and efficient you are when you drive.

And exactly how much he could make off that danger.

____

By the time things have settled down, it’s late. The kind of late where the air gets thick and sticky and makes everything feel a little slower, a little dirtier. The crowd’s thinning out—just the die-hards and the degenerate hangers-on now, loitering with smokes and plastic cups of warm beer.

It’s fine— you like warm beer anyway. But Toji doesn’t; he sets off to fetch two fresh, ice cold cups that you insist are your treat and gets lost in the crowd.

You’re parked under a flickering garage-like light in the back corner of the lot, hood popped open again. The engine’s still ticking as it cools after you’ve spent so much time revving it just for the tired to smoke out, to show off and you’re leaning over it with a wrench in hand, half your weight on one arm, your top clinging to the small of your back. A blotch of grease, smeared across your shoulder looks war paint. You look like the problem, and maybe that’s why someone decides to try you.

You hear the voice before you see him.

“Nice ride,” he says, like he owns the ground you’re standing on. A hand reaches out—dumb and slow—to tap the inside of your engine bay like it’s a vending machine he just fed a coin. “Whatchu say I race you for it and have it towed to me?”

You don’t even look. Just smack his hand away with the flat end of your wrench. Not hard. Not soft either.

“Touch it again,” you say calmly, “and you’ll be the one getting towed.”

He flinches, more from the tone than the contact. “Jesus, it’s just a car.”

You look up then, finally meeting his eyes. “Yeah. And you’re just a guy. Can’t win even if you tried, pick your battles, king”

He stumbles back with a half-muttered insult and disappears into the night,

Toji sees all of it from a few feet away, where he’s busy getting cornered by someone -still holding your cups of beer, mind you- while she’s trying way too hard to be interesting. She’s cute, objectively. Tight dress, loud laugh, hands that keep brushing his bicep like they’re gonna conjure something.

And he’s being polite. You hate that he’s being polite. He came here with you, not to smile at strangers in a parking lot.

You remember that saying, that you lose someone the way you find them and something low burns in your throat. It doesn’t have a name, but it’s mean. Ferocious. The same kind of energy you get when a guy tries to overtake you on a drift without earning it.

You wipe your hands on a rag and stomp over, uninvited, the heels of your boots clicking in the loud way you’d normally hate. But here, in this place, it doesn’t fucking matter. The louder, the better.

“Hey, babe,” you say to Toji, sweet as antifreeze. Grabbing your beer from his palm, you loop your arm through his, lean into his shoulder like you’ve been doing it for years, even rub your cheek against his bicep. “You left your phone in the car. Thought maybe you were gonna disappear on me.”

Toji blinks, just once. Then he smiles—slow and wicked, realising what game you’re playing and deciding to raise you, play along.

“Thanks, doll,” he says, playing along instantly. Arm sliding around your waist, fingers settling a little lower than they should, the tap on the clothed skin under your ribs once, twice, thrice. Just enough to be mouthwatering “Didn’t mean to get caught up.”

The girl’s eyes narrow. “Oh. Sorry—I didn’t know you were—”

“You didn’t,” you cut in, unkind, sipping on some of your beer before smiling at her “But now you do.”

She excuses herself fast, face tight, heels clicking back toward the shadows she came from.

Toji turns toward you, still holding on like it’s just the natural thing to do, even if your head shoots away from his shoulder instantly.

“Babe?” he repeats, amused.

Oh you want him.

You shrug, trying to play it off like your heart isn’t doing acrobatics in your ribcage. “I panicked.”

“That was hot,” he says plainly. “You got a little mean in you.”

You pull back just enough to see the look on his face. Half impressed, half something else you don’t wanna name. You simply sip on some more of your beer.

“Don’t get used to it,” you say. “You can’t survive here if you ain’t mean”

Toji hums like he agrees, but his eyes haven’t left yours—not really. He lifts his beer and clinks the rim of it lightly against yours, like a toast without words. You both drink in sync, long pulls that drain half the cup in one go. It goes down easy, sharp and cold, numbing the edges of whatever that little scene stirred up between you.

“Let’s get outta here,” you say after a beat, voice low, head tipping toward the lot’s exit.

“Before I start a fight just to watch you finish it.”

Toji jokes, but you don’t need convincing in this setting. The heat’s still clinging to your back, sweat drying sticky beneath your tank top, grease on your skin catching the green light of the overhead bulb like armor. You’re tired, wired, and suddenly hyper aware of how close Toji is walking beside you.

Of course you’d give him anything he asks for right now.

However, you’ve got a daughter at home, no need to get tougher and end up with a new set of mugshots.

Toji just grins, like he can read your mind again, drinking the rest of his beer like he’s hot nothing to apologise about. Like he knows you would pick a fight for him.

By the time you toss the empty cups into a trash barrel and slide into your car, the lot’s almost dead. Only the die-hards remain, arguing over borrowed tires and split winnings. Toji settles into the passenger seat like he’s done it a hundred times, arm slung lazily over the back of your seat. His thigh brushes yours when you shift gears. Neither of you mention it.

The engine rumbles to life with a low, satisfied growl.

You’re halfway back to your place, cutting through city streets that still buzz with leftover adrenaline. The windows are cracked, the cool night air threading through sweat-slicked skin. Your hands are still loose on the wheel, fingers flexing now and then, like your body hasn’t figured out the race is over, like you’re drifting still for the final price.

Toji’s in the passenger seat, silent in that way of his. Not tense, not uncomfortable—just… watching. Legs spread like he owns the floor space. Arm braced against the door. He glances over every so often, and every so often you feel it burn into the side of your face.

You let him smoke inside your car and you do too, silently, only asking for his lighter every now and then.

You pull up to a red light. One of those long ones, the kind that sits forever like it’s waiting for something to happen. Toji exhales slowly. And you take it as a sign he’s trying not to say something.

You cut a look at him, not letting it slide. “What?”

“Nothing….You’re a good driver.”

You scoff. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

He hums, lazy. “You get cocky when you win.”

“You get quiet when you want something.”

That earns you a look. A real one. And he turns in his seat, just a little, so he’s angled toward you more than the road.

The light is still red.

And your fingers are tightening slightly on the wheel, but your chest is stupidly loud. Stupidly full. You expect the next moment like you knew it would happen the second you chose that good tasting lip gloss.

Toji reaches over—slow, deliberate—and brushes a stray piece of hair from your cheek with the tips of his fingers and slides across the underline of your jawline. Doesn’t say anything. Just lets his fingers rest there, at the middle of your chin, light as breath. He’s giving you a chance to stop him, when he knows you won’t.

You don’t.

He leans in. Not fast, not hesitant either. Just sure.

You meet him halfway.

It’s not perfect. It’s messy and warm, your lips a little dry despite the lip gloss, the center console pressing awkwardly into your ribs—but none of it matters.

It’s his hand coming up to cradle your jaw, it’s the taste of the night still clinging to both of you, the ash and spice and sugar from juice boxes and late dinners. It’s heat that doesn’t come from the engine.

His lips press hungrily against yours, dangerously, fuelled with the intention to bruise as he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth the second he feels you try to pull back.

He bites down, hard enough to draw blood and smiles against your lips when you pull back.

The light turns green.

You don’t move. The road is empty anyway. You simply kiss him again, more fiercely than how you initially did and Toji knows—he knows he calculated right. So he kisses you softer, pressing his face into you, his nose bunching as it collides with your cheek.

Toji breaks first, resting his forehead against yours. Breathing heavier than before. “Shit,” he mutters. “You taste so good, you’re gonna get me in trouble.”

You blink, trying not to smile from your nervousness. You’re flustered and taken aback.

He laughs under his breath.

And when you drive off again, neither of you say much—but your hand stays close to the gearshift, and his stays a little too close to yours.

The city hums low outside, golden streetlights stretching across the windshield like molten wire. Your hand shifts gears, heart hammering like you’re still at the start line of a race. Toji hasn’t leaned all the way back yet—still angled toward you, one arm draped over his seat like he might reach for you again, if the car hits another red light.

But you don’t stop this time. You keep driving, one hand firm on the wheel, the other resting just close enough to his thigh that your pinky keeps brushing the denim of his jeans every time you shift. Neither of you talk. It’s thick in the air now—this thing, this pull.

He finally breaks the silence. Quiet. Low.

“I’ve got an idea”

You huff, trying to play it cool even though your chest feels like it’s glowing. “Like what?”

Toji’s mouth curves into something crooked. He doesn’t ask if he can, doesn’t ask if he should, hell he doesn’t even keep any form of good manners as he shoves his foot out of the window, manspreads even further into your car and then turn to you. He runs his fingers down your neck and hisses, edging low, low, low to the v line of your halter top.

You gulp. Hands twitching on the gearshift and the steering wheel, sparing him a look. Partly because you're scared he’s going to leave a stamp of his shoe in your car, partly because whatever idea he has you know is wicked.

You’d be stupid not to see the bulge print between his legs. And you love the way he touches you smoothly, like water, as he trails his hand over your shoulder, your bicep.

“Gimme your hand” he mutters and you wish he was testing the waters but he isn’t. He snatches your hand, like it’s his to take. “Just tell me when to switch gears”

You don’t answer. You can’t—not without sounding like an idiot, and you’d rather crash this car than let him know just how much that kiss scrambled your thoughts. You shrug instead, eyes making an actual effort to stay on the road, not on his lap, where your hand stands as a prisoner.

He runs his fingers through yours, guides your hand between his legs and urges you to feel. What you’ve done to him. With acting badass, your outfit, the way you kissed him. The way you try to not make it obvious that you want him.

And just like he predicted, you rush. To untangle your fingers, try and work his zippers down, but he’s allowed you to think you’re dominant for way too long.

This is his territory now.

He squeezes your hand like it’s punishment and growls at you. Then he unbuckles his belt and his trousers come shortly after, he takes your hand again and turns his head to you so fast that you can’t help but look back, magnetised by what he’s going to do next.

Toji stares into your eyes and smirks before bringing your palm to his mouth and sticks his tongue out. You feel how hot and wet his breath is when he inches your hand closer and finally after gathering all the spit that’s in his mouth onto his tongue— he licks it.

He shoves your hand into his boxers so quick that you don’t even manage to notice when he even shifts the gearstick.

“Look at the state you’ve got me in.” His voice is raspy, his smirk widening as you feel his hot, hard length throbbing against your palm. “Move your hand” He demands, his voice leaving no room for arguing. “Now.”

His smirk turns into a full-blown grin as he watches you try to focus on driving while his hand guides yours along his length underneath his boxers. “Mhm? Keep driving then.” He challenges softly against your ear before nipping at it playfully.

You burn the next red light.

Your heart is palpitating everywhere in your body, pumping in adrenaline and save for feeling the excitement of fulfilling this dirty little fantasy you’ve always had, you convince yourself whatever’s happening right now is because Toji is pumping in adrenaline too. Be it from the race or that facade you had on. Maybe it’s even the fact that you called him baby, to save him from getting cornered by someone random.

Maybe you gave him the wrong impression.

Or maybe you gave him the correct one.

Νο matter what you overthink, on your left, Toji throws his head back, laughing darkly as you keep driving, his hand moving your wrist in quick, jerky movements along his length. He’s so hard it’s almost painful, and the fact that you’re trying to focus on the road while he’s being jacked off is only making him harder.

He lets out a low groan, his hips bucking slightly as you continue to stroke him. He leans back in his seat, one hand gripping the gear stick tightly while the other guides your movements, until your hands entangle.

"Fuck... keep going." His voice is strained, and he bites his lip to suppress another moan.

You feel it, how the hem of his boxers is getting wetter by the second. Your hand moves quick and rough, and unbeknownst to you it’s just how he likes it. He watches your profile, your expression as you drive. Lips pursed tight even if your lip gloss remains strained.

He realizes you're good at multitasking– handling a car and jacking him off without causing an accident.

He spreads his legs wider unconsciously, giving you better access. His boxers are getting wetter and wetter with pre-cum. He watches your serious expression again– no smirk, just big doe eyes as you turn them over to his direction. Just driving and jacking him off like it's your job. He swallows hard.

"Baby..." he says, just to jab, sharp, like a wasp.

“You're so fucking good at this." He admits quietly, hips bucking slightly against your hand. He's so hard that your hand can't even close in its own fist, precum leaking from his tip in thick ropes. You move your hand rhythmically, up and down in a hammering motion, thumb barely brushing his tip every few strokes "Keep… fuck, i love that, don’t stop" He orders, softly.

His eyes roll back and the way you slam on the gas, serves as a promise not to stop.

You feel he's getting closer, as his breathing turns into shallow pants, his cock twitches in your hand. He can feel his balls tightening when he moves past your hand to grasp them; at that, his length throbs in your hand.

He reaches out blindly with his free hand, grabbing onto your thigh tightly -so very tightly that you think it’s inhuman- as if anchoring himself. "Fuck... I'm gonna come..." He warns hoarsely.

You don’t answer him—not out loud, anyway. You just take the next turn off the main road, rip your hand off him so you can change the gear, tires skimming gravel as you pull into a side lot behind an old batting cage that’s been closed for years.

Toji audibly protests at the lack of the warmth of your hand, but shuts up, the second you pull the e-break.

Wherever you even are, everything on sight is a wreck. The fence is half fallen, the floodlights dead, and it's only the view of the city that glitters over the rise like it was lit just for you.

You kill the engine, but neither of you move.

Toji raises an eyebrow, eyes scanning the dark lot and you unbuckle your seatbelt so fucking fast, he thinks you could outmatch his own speed.

You pounce onto him, feet moving faster than your brain just to straddle him and your hands wrap around his neck like it’s instinct.

"Oh fuck-" He gasps when you suddenly attack him, his back hitting the seat as you straddle him. His hands immediately go to your waist, gripping it tightly as he looks up at you with slant eyes. Aroused.

You answer that look.

“You okay?” you ask, voice smaller than you mean for it to be.

He nods, once. Then leans in slow. Like he’s giving you the chance to stop him again. But when you touch your lips to his, you’re practically telling him you don’t want to stop him.

This time, the kiss is heavier. More certain. His hand slides up to cup your jaw, thumb grazing your cheek like he’s mapping the shape of your face. He tastes like spice and smoke and something sweeter —your lipgloss— as you’re pulling him closer, chests colliding against each other.

You grind your hips on him and the second you feel his throbbing cock catch your clit through your panties, a moan escapes you.

You breathe in through your nose, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. It’s too much and not enough. His teeth graze your bottom lip and you hum into it, letting your hand slide up to his shoulder, just to feel the strength there, to anchor yourself before your body forgets it has a shape at all.

He pulls back only slightly, eyes half-lidded, his forehead brushing yours. His gaze fixated on the way your skirt has bunched up on your hips and his hands come, strong and firm to work you onto him.

You blink at him, lips parted.

You moan but the sound never makes it to fruition— only because your mouth is too busy finding his again.

And in this quiet, empty lot, under a broken streetlight and the hum of the city beyond, you kiss Toji like you don’t care how complicated things will get. Like you don’t know him for a week, like it isn't your second time seeing him.

You’ll allow yourself to feel wanted, you’ll break the celibacy oath to yourself in shreds, You'll feel alright with actually participating into your new life in this new country.

Maybe for once, tonight doesn’t need to make sense. You’re allowed to want something just because it’s yours to want.

And right now, he’s all yours.

You don’t know how long you’re kissing him. Minutes? Hours? Your sense of time slips between the cracks of his hands, the press of his mouth, the warm pulse in your chest that keeps rising, higher and higher, like your body’s chasing something it doesn’t have words for.

Toji shifts closer, pushes further and suddenly there’s nowhere else to go. The center console might as well not exist with how he leans across it, hand skimming your thigh like he’s testing the weight of permission. You suck in a breath, every nerve in your leg lighting up under his palm.

He pauses.

“Tell me to stop,” he says, voice low. Rough around the edges. “If you want to.”

You don’t. You really, really don’t. But the way he asks—the fact that he does ask—hits you somewhere deep.

You shake your head. “Don’t stop”

That’s all he needs.

His hand squeezes lightly at your thigh before it starts to travel, slow, deliberate, like he’s relearning anatomy by feel. You arch slightly and suddenly you're met with the feeling of your dashboard on your back.

Now that you're all cornered, he smirks, the pads of his fingers tracing a slow, ghostly line over the centre of your panties. You squirm at the teasing, yet as to make you suffer further, he presses his pointer finger flat onto your clit and moves left and right as agonisingly slow as he could.

You’ve never been one to plead, and you definitely can’t think of the right honorific to do it right now, but you squirm again and he knows what you want.

He pushes your panties to the side and fuck, even that is too hot because he did it.

“Fuuh- pretty pussy”

Your stomach flips. It shouldn’t be allowed, how his voice sounds like sin itself when it drops like that. You roll your hips just a little, testing as you grab both hands around his cock and urge it towards your slit. He catches the shift with a low noise in his throat.

He mutters softly, something almost inaudible, watching your hips roll experimentally. Surely, the hand he intended to grab around your throat grabs the base of his cock and pays no mind to your hold on him as he slaps his bulging head once, twice over your pushed open lips.

His smirk widens as he realizes how sensitive you are— how your body reacts to the smallest movements. He pushes your thighs wider apart with his knees, spreading you lewdly on the dashboard.

"Fucking hell..." He groans, his fingers tracing your entrance lightly before he pushes two fingers inside you. You're so wet that it's almost obscene, and he can't help but let out a low, appreciative noise. "You want my cock in here instead?"

He groans, low in his throat and fuck there’s a vein even there, watching you nod your head. He pulls down his pants as much as he can and he's already hard again. Harder than before, as if that's even physically possible.

“Ma, speak up”

“It’s just, I’ve never” you stutter, words getting caught in your throat for what you’re about to say “I’ve never had sex in Japanese”

Toji clicks his tongue, an amused chuckle coming from his chest, he looks at the mess between his and your legs, how you’ve practically drenched his cock already with how wet you are and speaks “‘S fine, we don’t gotta talk”

He guides his tip to your entrance, pushing inside slightly, watching your reaction. "You okay?"

You nod—hum, whatever. You don’t even know how you respond, but somehow you do.

He pushes in, just barely below the tip before he decides this isn’t going to work if he doesn’t spread open your pussy, so he pushes out, gets his thumbs to work and pushes in again with a loud hiss.

When he tosses his head back, he's reminded he is in a car, with minimal space.

Not that it’d stop him anyway.

He ruts into you slowly, giving you just a little time to adjust to that monstrous size of his before he bullies his cock all the way inside you with a smug smile. Whatever’s left of you that’s not spent, squirms.

You cry out slightly, claws scratching his shoulders, digging through the fabric of his shirt.

Toji groans, his hips moving faster. He leans down, pressing his forehead against yours as he fucks harder into you with half thrusts.

"God, you're fucking squeezing me perfectly..." He grunts. And it’s the truth, your walls flutter and tighten around him with every single move and you're shaking, your legs are shaking when he hits that spongy spot inside you.

For a while there are fast, needy hands everywhere. Around your neck, through your hair, over the outline of your breasts and waist and squelching sounds fill the silence of the car until it’s no more there.

"You're going to make me come way too fast, you know that?" His lips brush your ear, words coming out despite his suggestion as he latches himself into the soft skin of your neck, not to suck, but to bite. His teeth sinking into your skin in synch of that numbing feeling his cock stirs in you.

You’re already whimpering in protest as he finally wraps his lips around the painful spot on the side of your neck, swiping his tongue around it in smoothing motions.

"How close are you?"

“Mhm-‘m not close yet." You pant and earn another deep chuckle.

Toji, spent on your words like it's personal now, reaches between your bodies instantly, his fingers finding your clit. He starts rubbing circles around it, matching the pace of his thrusts. "Better now?” He growls softly.

You slur an inaudible ‘yes’ and then a ‘more’

"You're so fucking needy..." He hisses, his fingers picking up speed.

He leans down to suck on your neck— no your collarbone, biting gently as he hammers his dick inside you harder, faster. And fuck, maybe it’s the pull of the moment and your dizzy head but you feel like your car might actually break with how hard his thrusts are.

You’re too far gone, drunk into this moment like your body won’t stop wanting more and more from him with every buck of his hips. You push back the splitting pain of his girth, past the sound of skin clapping on skin and Toji groans, his thumb pressing down on your clit as his fingers continue to circle it.

“‘S too good”

"Damn it..." He laughs softly, his hips snapping forward harder into you.

He feels just how sensitive you are there, so he hits that spot again and again and again. Fingers spreading your pussy lips apart slightly, giving him better access and rubbing your clit faster.

You like it more than you want to admit, you like being spread open and played with, you love the way he drags his tongue to whatever skin is exposed from your chest and this angle— it’s him hitting all the right spots all at once that makes that knot in your lower stomach tighten.

“Fuck, you're killing me..." He adds a third finger to your clit, pressing down hard, way too fast as he thrusts deep and holds himself there, grinding against you. "There it is... right fucking there..." His voice is strained as he watches your face contort with pleasure.

You don't even care to fix your face to make it sexy, make it appealing; your lips are open in the shape of an ‘o’, your eyes are closed and there’s surely a bead of sweat forming at the edge of your hairline, ready to run down your forehead.

And Toji thinks, with his eyes snapped wide open, that this is definitely a sight for sore eyes. You're just like he likes his girls. Raw, desperate. Chasing your release while being split on his cock.

He feels you clamp down around him and almost loses it completely, unable to even hold it for even a second. His hips start to jackhammer against yours as he moans against your chest, one hand coming to grab onto the hair at the base of your neck.

"That's it, fuck yes, come for me..." he orders —All the while, his fingers keep that perfect pressure on your clit, making your legs shake. He can feel you're there, before you even do.

He keeps his fingers moving on your clit, feeling your body convulse with pleasure as you come undone above him, hips spasming and thighs clenching hard enough for you to get cramps. Toji watches your face, eyes and mind mesmerized by the way your eyes roll to the back of your head and your mouth opens in a silent scream.

“Goddamn..." He lets out a deep groan, one hand still grounding your hips way too harshly as his thrusts become faster, his hips loose at the feeling of drenching him, sogging his cock into you "Fuck...Fuck yeah..."

He pulls out abruptly, making you gasp at the loss of being stuffed to the brick. He grabs his cock, and you widen your eyes at just how hard it is. You only watch, lazily and out of breath as he aligns his tip with your clit and starts jerking himself off quickly. His face contorts in an expression of pleasure similar to yours as he gets closer.

"Fuck..." He's barely holding back his own orgasm as he watches his cock head rub against you, messily parting your pussy lips with each slide.

Back and forth. Left and right.

If the sight of you coming was too much, if it burned like hell, then this? This is purgatory.

"I'm gonna " His breathing is ragged, he's moving between your folds faster, grabbing your hand to guide it through giving the last few strokes before release "You're making me- fuck! Im gonna cum"

It’s on cue after that. The way he moans betrays him, the way he lazily slows down his pace and pushes his hips so far up that your head collides with the roof of the car, the way he says that sudden, deep ‘fuuuuuck’, it all adds up to him, coming undone. Spurting hot strings of cum against your clit and your thighs, even the hem of your skirt and your side pulled panties.

Between heavy breaths, his eyes move down your body, where you're wet with his cum, your sleek and an excessive amount of sweat, watching as his cum drips down between your legs.

"Fucking hell that was so good..." he sighs and slides a finger through the mess on your clit, making you flinch with oversensitivity, deciding to be a gentleman for a second and pull your panties back to their original place.

But truly— it’s just so he won’t get hard again after watching the mess he's made out of your pussy.

And then, gently, flustered and spent, while he's trying to catch his breath, he leans in to kiss your neck gently.

You don’t protest, being fucked out of your goddamn mind, as he pats your ass, giving you a little squeeze that is accompanied with a sinister chuckle, signaling you to get up.

He curses whatever demon possesses him to lean towards you, while buckling his pants closed, to peck you, especially because he catches you off guard– you don’t even manage to turn your head toward him when he catches the left corner of your mouth with his lips.

Your goddamn skin is too soft, too youthful. He wishes that side of his own mouth was as kissable as yours.

“This,” he says against your mouth, “this is exactly what I thought would happen when you showed up lookin�� like that.”

____

The ride back is quieter now that you’re all dressed neatly and into the driver’s seat, because you’re trying to ignore the actual ache of being split open, between your legs.

At least this silence– it’s simmering, not awkward. It’s the kind of quiet that hums with all the things neither of you are saying, thick with adrenaline and aftershocks and something else you don’t quite want to name.

Toji hasn’t spoken, touched you, or cracked a joke in five minutes, which might just be a record. He’s slouched in the passenger seat, one arm resting on the door, the other draped over his thigh, hand flexing like he’s still feeling the echo of your touch. His eyes keep flicking to you, sharp and unreadable.

You pull into his street, slowing to a crawl near the curb outside his building. The streetlight flickers above you, spilling just enough yellow light into the car to catch the sharp set of his jaw.

“Here we are” you announce, hand cradling the side of your face.

He doesn’t move to open the door.

Instead, he clears his throat and you can already tell he’s thinking way too hard.

“Hey…” he starts and you glance over at him, laced with curiosity “Can I crash at yours tonight?”

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nr1chaedickrider · 1 year ago

Text

Three is a magic number - it makes you want me even more.

Acting like a brat doesn't end well.

handcuffs ; degradation ; dacryphilia ; a little bit edging ; a little bit of overstimulating ; some petnames ; use of a whip ; thigh riding ; reader is getting called miss ; not proofread, guys what the fuck happened to me... is this even nr1chaedickrider anymore... ; ^_^

men dni.

Her ass sways to the left and right side as she walks. Her already short dress rides up even higher, showing her ass off.

You wish that it would atleast show a bit of her underwear - but no.

Her naked ass is right infront of you.

A night that was supposed to be "fun" turned out to you dragging her back home.

A night that was supposed to be about spending time with friends and drinking alcohol turned into you almost throwing her onto your bed.

You straddle her and sit down on her lap, trapping her with your legs.

She sits up and supports her body with her elbows, looking up to you with lidded eyes - and a nasty smirk that comes with it just seconds after.

"Such a slut" you say, breaking the silence.

The tension is thick, the atmosphere of the room full of lust, anger and - sex.

She raises an eyebrow, tries not to smile at the name calling.

"Am I? I think I behaved just like usually."

You scoff, laughing at her statement (which is in your opinion crazy).

"If you call this your usual behavior then we have a big problem." you say, standing up as you walk to the closet.

"Clothes off, now." you add in a tone that makes her cunt throb, in a way that got her so needy for you, in a tone that sounds like you're ordering her to do something (which you are technically really doing).

She obeys, taking her dress off and letting it fall down on the floor before laying down on the bed again.

Your eyes wander around the closet, looking at different boxes, knowing that you're searching for that special box.

You chuckle a little when you find it and open it. Taking out two things -

First, metal handcuffs.

Second, a leather whip, with thin threads that hurt even more when used.

The combination of you and these two things is dangerous.

Sana always had a thing for danger.

Sana also thinks that three is her favorite number.

Handcuffs, leather whip, and lastly, the most important part -

you.

You turn around to the bed again, carrying both of those in your hands as you sit down on her lap again.

She watches you with anticipation, not being able to hide her smirk anymore.

Without saying anything, you take her wrists and attach the handcuffs to them. The cold metal sends Sana a shiver down her spine.

You then look at her again, the whip in your hand.

"Leave your arms over your head." you order her, and she nods.

Your slim fingers slowly trail over her body, touching her in a way that got her craving for more.

Your hand cups her cheek, and you can't hide the chuckle that leaves your mouth when you look at Sana who looks at you so desperately. Sana, who watches you and hopes that you finally do something to help her get off.

At this moment, however, hope doesn't help her.

You stroke her cheek with your thumb before you lean in to kiss her other cheek.

Sana tries to move, tries to catch your lips so desperately, but you move away, your and her lips not even touching for a single second.

She lets out a small whine, making you laugh.

"Do you really think im gonna let you get a kiss so easily?" you ask.

"You're pathetic"

You feel her thighs move against eachother.

"Trying to rub your thighs together to somehow get relief?" you tease her.

"Please-" she asks, no, she begs, brows furrowed as she looks up to you.

The whip hits her chest and she lets out a whimper.

"Please what?" you ask her.

"Please miss-" she lets out, her chest already turning into a light shade of red.

"I need you so bad"

You laugh.

"Too bad."

You get off her lap, opening her legs as you settle inbetween them.

You watch her breathe as she stares at you, she can't stop looking at the way your white wife beater shows off your body so well, and how you're nipples are a little visible because you didn't want to wear a bra today (which is in her opinion problably the best decision ever).

Your finger trails down her stomach to her core, moving it through her folds as she lets out a moan.

You pull your hand away, looking at her slick on your finger.

"You're so desperate.. what am I supposed to do with you baby?" you ask, knowing damn well what you want to do.

Edge her until she is almost crying for you.

Overstimulate her till she begs you to stop while she herself knows she doesn't want you to stop.

"Please.. miss.. just- I need you inside, so fucking bad-" she answers, hips moving slightly in hopes of getting touched.

You laugh a little at her desperateness and at the way she really hopes that you will give in that easily.

But there is no fun to it if you don't make her think that you gave in hm?

Your middle and ring fingers enter her core and she lets out a louder moan, head leaned back.

"God-" she moans.

You move your fingers in a fast way, curling them and hitting the spots that got Sana throwing her head back even more.

You lean closer to her, kissing her neck as your fingers thrust into her. She lets out a whimper when you start to suck and bite on her neck, marking her up.

Your hot breath against her neck and your fingers moving so skillful got her already close to her orgasm.

And she really thought that you would give it to her.

You pull out your fingers that are covered with her slick.

Sana lets out a groan when she feels the emptiness.

"You're stupid" you say, chuckling at the way she pouts a little.

"Turn around" you order, she obeys and turns around so she is on all fours infront of you. She looks at you over her shoulder, her look full of lust and need.

You take a deep breath, trying not to give in immideatly by the way she looks at you that definetly got you wet.

You caress her ass with the whip, Sana still looks at you, not able to take her eyes off you.

"Count them and i'll let you cum baby." you say and she nods, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth.

"one-" she moans out when you hit her, and you definetly can't hide your smile anymore.

You hit her again, "two.." she whimpers.

Your other hand starts to touch her everywhere.

You grope her tits and play with her sensitive nipples as she tries to hold back her moans.

Another hit, "three-".

"Such a good whore for me, aren't you?" you whisper against her body as you kiss her soft skin.

The whip hits her again, the beige skin on her ass slowly fading to a darker shade of red.

"F-four" she moans.

You decide that you won't give her any time to relax anymore.

You hit again, "five"

And again, "six-" her eyes slowly full of tears, her wetness being uncomfortably bothering.

Again, "seven.."

Hit eight and nine happen fast without a single break, making Sana stutter as a tear flows down her cheek.

You hit her for the last time - "ten" she says, and you smile as you put the whip away and caress her ass with your hand.

You turn her around again, on her back.

She pants a little, her arms lifted over her head, the handcuffs tight around her wrists, problably already leaving red marks.

You place your hand on her core, slowly rubbing her clit with your fingers.

She lets out some soft moans, you lean in and kiss her lips, no teasing, no nothing.

Your lips on hers - it feels like kissing the softest pillow in the whole world.

The kiss turns messy pretty fast though.

Sana's breathing gets heavier as you trail kisses down her jaw, adding more hickeys on her neck and collarbone - claiming her as yours.

Your fingers thrust inside with no warning, she moans loud.

You smirk against her skin as you move your fingers with skill.

You continue kissing her everywhere, your lips trailing down to her breast as you take one of her erected buds into your mouth, sucking, licking, and biting a little.

Her moans grow louder, she is overwhelmed in the best way possible. Her climax comes closer as you feel her walls thighten around your fingers.

"Wanna hear you so bad, cum for me like the good girl you are." you say (which sounds more like an order).

She nods a little, eyes closed, her head thrown back.

A little thrusting and teasing her nipples got her cumming on your fingers with a loud moan.

You take your fingers out, cleaning them up a little while holding eye contact with Sana.

"Taste yourself baby" you wait for her to open her mouth as you push your fingers inside, feeling how she sucks on them, feeling how she uses your tongue that got you dripping.

You take them out with a little 'pop' sound.

Before Sana can say anything though, you kneel down - infront of her core, and dive right in.

She starts to turn into a moaning mess again as you suck on her clit.

Her thighs try to close around your head, but you hold them in place with your hands.

"You can touch me." you mumble, the vibrations making her let out another moan.

Her cuffed hands make their way down to your head, gripping your hair as she pulls you closer.

Sana had moments where she could get overstimulated easily.

She moans loud when your tongue enters her hole.

This moment here, is one of them.

She feels you everywhere as her hips buck into your face, her moans turning into desperate whimpers.

Her next orgasm isn't far away when your nose hits her clit as you move your head.

You feel your scalp burning when she pulls at your hair and cums.

She lets your head go seconds after, panting as another tear rolls down her cheek.

You sit up again, looking at her with a smile.

What was Sana's favorite number again?

Three.

Her three favorite things in bed - you, a whip, handcuffs.

Her favorite way of getting off - your fingers, your tongue, your thigh.

Seems like one thing is missing.

You grip her slim waist with your hands as you pull her on your lap.

She looks at you in confusion before she realises.

You flex your thigh and start to move her a little as she moans again.

"W-wait-" she whimpers, the handcuffs on her hands stopping her.

She feels overwhelmed, overstimulated -

and so fucking horny.

She feels like she is going to explode with another orgasm.

But she always loved the pain that comes with it.

You don't even have to grind her on your thigh anymore as she starts moving herself on your thigh, moaning, whimpering, and panting.

"Riding my thigh like a bitch in heat god... You want to cum so bad, don't you?" you ask her, whispering it against her marked up neck as you place kisses on top of them.

She nods and continues to ride you so desperately.

Your hands move up her body as you play with her nipples again, flicking them and even pinching them.

Her moans get louder already, you bite down on her neck again as you leave another mark, sucking and licking over it.

For a moment you think you even had the taste of iron on your tongue.

You look at her, watching how Sana is already so close to her climax as you kiss her again.

You both groan a little against each others lips as her body starts to shake a little as she cums on your thigh.

Sana's head is on your shoulder as she slowly calms down.

"God.." she breathes out.

You giggle a little as you free her from the handcuffs, and see that they really left some marks.

Sana looks at you again, her hands moving on your body until they hold your face.

She moves your head closer so that her lips are right infront of your ear.

She whispers something that makes you want to take off your clothes immideatly - as well as putting on the handcuffs yourself.

"Let me take care of you."

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