#But like to me I was thinking like the entire time like. It’s going up. Like to heaven and all that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yinyuedijun · 3 days

Text

ZERO-SUM GAME

It’s different with Aventurine. You like being his luxury hand watch. You like being his elegant knife, his liar’s dice, his pretty poker chip. You want to be his object—the object of his affections, something he can parade around just like his expensive suits and his beautiful jewellery and his ostentatious furs. Look at me, he uses them to say. Look at what I own. Look at what I own despite this code on my neck. Look at what I've won despite my eyes and my blood. (Or: Aventurine wins you in a game of poker. He decides to cash out his prize right then and there—to enjoy you on the card table, laid out among all the chips and cards.)

8.6k words of psychological issues, explicit smut, and deranged characterization. aventurine tops, reader bottoms. public sex, voyeurism from strangers, piv, oral (reader receiving), fingering with gloves on, creampie. mild dubcon but the reader is ultimately into it. afab gn reader, they are playing a fem-coded role for an espionage assignment (dress, heels, makeup). themes of objectification. discussion of slavery and sa during slavery (not explicit). dead dove do not eat, mdni.

You are in the grandest casino of Kinyoshi Moon Colony, and Aventurine is running your latest husband into life-ruining debt.

You aren’t cut up about it. If your marriage (or concubinage, rather) were genuine, you'd maybe be annoyed about the loss of capital. But as it is, this relationship is an assignment from the IPC—one of the longest and most excruciatingly boring yet. Fortunately for you, Aventurine’s presence tonight means that you've finally gathered enough intel for Diamond’s needs. It is time for the IPC to terminate your latest contract, and Aventurine is here to collect you.

Which is a little funny, given your relationship. It is strange sitting across from your boyfriend, draped over another man and thoroughly ignoring him. You’re entirely focused on fawning over your husband instead—laughing into his ear, lighting his pipe and filling his whiskey glass, and oh, Mister Li, you're so funny, you're so clever, I think you should go all in!—but Aventurine doesn't react. He only smiles at the two of you, like he isn't bothered by the sight.

This is, of course, an act: when you came home from your last marriage (assignment), he'd made sure to pleasure you so thoroughly that you forgot all about your ex-husband (mark). Aventurine did not openly admit to any kind of jealousy at the time, but you could tell he hadn't been keen on letting another man touch you. He usually isn't too keen about anyone touching any of his things, in fact. Despite appearances, he always abhors the thought of losing anything important.

But any fears he might have are concealed right now. They’re always concealed. Hidden by the expensive suit, the countless stacks of chips, the golden walls and high-vaulted ceilings of the Venetian Zhijin, Masked by his generous gifts, his easy laughter, his careless frivolity. You can see right through his gilded smile. The rest of the table cannot.

They are all intrigued when Aventurine asks, a playful lilt in his voice, “How about we make this game a little more interesting, gentleman?”

The other players at the table consider him. The other plus-ones—concubines, courtesans, gigolos, and so on—look at him with calculated expressions of cursory interest. You do so as well, but only for a moment. Your gaze quickly returns to Mister Li’s face—your husband is meant to be your true focus, after all, not the game. You are not a player at this table, but an accessory. Closer to an expensive watch than a human being.

Some business magnate from the Triangulum Galaxy leans back and raises a brow. “I'm listening,” he says. You watch a bead of sweat travel down your husband’s neck.

“How about we up the ante,” Aventurine says, his voice light, “but instead of betting more money this time, we bet our dates?”

You think, in other star systems, other worlds, such a suggestion would invite riot. But Kinyoshi Colony being what it is, and the Venetian being the establishment that it is, the other players at the table only laugh. Nearly half of them deal in the trade of human beings anyway—this is nothing novel for them.

“Well,” one of them says, “it’s not like winning more money’s gonna make a difference to any of us.” A round of chuckling. He turns to his date—some noblewoman from Jarilo-IV who seems greatly out of her depth—and says, “What do you think, love? How do you feel about being part of my wager?”

She doesn't like it. She clearly doesn't like it, and she also clearly doesn't know how to say it. Were you not on the clock, you might intervene. Maybe. As it is, though, all you can do is observe quietly. All the power in this gambit lies with Aventurine. Even when surrounded by men who manipulate the wealth of entire cities, planets, galaxies—he remains in full control.

“There’s never any shame in folding,” he says, magnanimous. Then he looks your husband in the eye, smiling conspiratorially. “But I know there are some of us who aren't afraid to take risks.”

Li laughs. “You’re right about that, Mister Aventurine.” He gives you a fond smile. And of course he does—you’re his last shot at winning back all his losses for the night. “I think you'd make a pretty little chip, don't you?”

Although Mister Li is clearly less distressed at the thought of betting you than he was at the thought of betting his company just last round, you notice, out of the corner of your eye, a muscle in Aventurine’s neck twitching. It’s very, very subtle, and he'd have never let himself do it if the table’s attention were on him, but he did it. Perhaps it was involuntary. Your mouth curls.

“Sure, darling.” You try not to sound too giddy. “I’ll be whatever you like.”

Ordinarily, you wouldn't be so happy about this farce. This is, put plainly, a stupid way to extract you from your mission. Were the cards in anyone else’s hands, your husband could win and you might be stuck with him for another several weeks, at least—assuming that you aren't discovered and killed first. Or you could go home with another man and be subjected to the kind of things that men do when they trade human beings, and you don't think the IPC would care too much if you were. You are an asset before you are a person, after all. At this table, you are closer to an expensive watch than a human being—and at the Company, you are an overpriced knife.

But to Aventurine, you're a chip in one of his games, and you don't mind that so much. Men who only know wealth will throw around their riches thoughtlessly, but men who have endured poverty will hold onto them tightly—desperately. Aventurine takes care of his luxury watches, his elegant knives, his liar’s dice. His capital. And he never loses anything. He always comes to collect. You trust him to collect you, even with this stupid plan, so you are calm as you watch the dealer shuffle the cards.

The table makes their bets. Most of the players go all-in. A couple fold, perhaps feeling some degree of concern for their partners, but it's more likely that they just have shit hands. A lot of the ones who continue playing have shit hands anyway. Your husband doesn't do too badly—a straight flush. He seems confident.

Then Aventurine lays out his cards. Ten. Joker. Queen. King. Ace.

All hearts.

You have to take a sip of your whiskey to stop yourself from laughing.

Aventurine, himself, has the grace not to look too smug about the outcome. Or maybe it's very unremarkable for him, all these winnings being pushed over to him—poker chips and human beings. Some of the other dates are clearly anxious as they move toward him (they are expected to be loyal to their husbands), and some are clearly excited (they are expected to be frivolous, hedonistic playthings). He humours them all, for a little while. Puts on the usual show as they crowd around him, charms them because it'll be good for business partnerships in case any of their husbands care even a little bit about them. You'd do the same in his shoes. But in your current ones (six-inch heels, black leather, red bottoms, luxury), all you can do is seat yourself on the card table and light up a cigarette. Waiting.

Aventurine eventually sends them all off. All I wanted was to get to know you, he says cheerfully, which is probably not a lie. After they leave, he asks the dealer to close the table and go on break. Turn a blind eye. You raise a brow when they obey him.

How interesting.

You're still enjoying your cigarette by the time he turns to you. You flash him a smile, one of the ones that you use for work. His expression doesn't change, but his thumb brushes against one of his many rings—switching off your synesthesia beacons for some privacy—and he leans back to study you. You know he's admiring you, but it could be mistaken for a leer.

“Well, well,” he says, “If it isn’t the esteemed concubine of Li Fengzhi.”

“The esteemed fifth concubine,” you correct. He hums, looking surprised.

“I thought you were the fourth. Did I misremember?”

“No, just misinformed. He took another concubine right before I arrived on Kinyoshi. He acquired a sixth just last week. Turns out he picks up paramours like they’re strays.”

“How inconvenient.”

“It made no difference to me,” you dismiss. “I’m his favourite anyway, but I’m sure you knew that already.”

“I’d have had to be blind not to notice it. You have the man wrapped around your finger.” Aventurine leans back, studying you as you smoke on your perch. “But before we continue—why don’t you come a little closer, esteemed Fifth Concubine?”

You make a face. “That title doesn’t sound as nearly as flattering in Avgin dialect as it does in Zhijinese,” you note, though you get off the table anyway. You don’t go very far, electing to seat yourself on his lap, your arms draping around his shoulders. The feathers of his jacket tickle at your bare shoulders; the satin of his gloves glide down the skin of your thighs before settling on your calves. “Since you’ve won my company for the night, though,” you sigh, “I suppose I can humour you, Mister Aventurine.”

“Lucky me.” He leans in, his breath sweeping the shell of your ear. His fragrance surrounds you, your body warming at the familiar scent of ambergris and vanilla. You realize, all of a sudden, how much you missed it. You have to stop yourself from pressing your face into his neck and melting—it would be a dead giveaway for your identity and also too revealing of your feelings. Aventurine might be endeared by it, but he might also find it disconcerting. He often needs to be tricked into intimacy.

He does enjoy being wanted though, and he can obviously tell that you want him. He pulls you closer, one of his hands giving your thigh a generous squeeze. It makes you throw your head back in a laugh, exposing the soft skin of your throat. You aren't surprised when he takes the opportunity to kiss it, his lips gentle against your pulse.

“You’re being very forward,” you tease him. “Did you miss me?”

“I’m just trying to be careful,” he defends himself between kisses, his breath warm on your skin. “We should try to conceal our mouths as much as possible. No one can intercept our synesthesia beacons, but someone could still read our lips.”

You give him a funny look. “We’re the only two speakers of Avgin in the known universe. Who could, other than ourselves, could read our—mmph…”

Aventurine has caught the rest of your sentence with his mouth. He’s hungry and wanting for you, the heat of his lips overwhelming. Your tongue is as practised as his, but you find yourself too distracted by your thrill to focus, your kiss wet and eager. Messy. Unprofessional.

You’ve never kissed any of your husbands like this. You’ve never kissed any of your other owners like this. You feel dazed when he pulls away.

You compose yourself. “So you did miss me.”

He smiles. “Guilty as charged.” A gloved hand rests on your face, satin tracing your lips. “How could I not? You’ve been away from the house for so long.”

Your eyes narrow. There’s no idiom for this in Avgin, so you flip briefly to Interastral Standard: “Pot, kettle, black. You leave home all the time.” You smack away the hand at your waist, petty. He looks amused. “And you almost always die.”

He switches out his smile for a pout. “Don’t tell me you’re still mad about last time.”

“You nearly got yourself blasted with atomics, so yes, I’m still mad at you.”

Now he’s frowning. “Am I going back to sleeping on the couch when you come back?”

“Yes,” you say. His deepening frown is meant to be read as a joke, but you know better. Deciding to throw him a bone, you lean in, whispering playfully into his ear: “You can still fuck me on it though.”

Aventurine hums, as if considering. His hands traverse your sides as he contemplates your suggestion. You move to straddle him, your thighs squeezed around his hips. When you grind against him, you can feel how much he wants you despite his composure, his control—his length straining in his pants, pressed against the silk covering your core.

“I don’t think I can wait long enough to fuck you on the couch,” he says, voice teasing.

“No?” You hum as his hands travel upward, feeling every inch of you. “The ship on the way home, then?”

“We don’t leave until tomorrow. Do you really think I can wait that long?”

You don't expect to feel the warmth of his hands on your chest. Your breath hitches when he starts palming your tits through your dress, neon eyes admiring the curve of them. One of his thumbs skims over the peak of your breast, and his mouth curls when your nipple hardens. “No bra? That's convenient.”

“I—” You squirm in his grip, whining. It just makes you grind against his lap more, your cunt moving against his slacks. A wave of heat runs through your lower half, and you clench around nothing. You can see people from a nearby table glancing at you, doing double takes. You can feel their lingering gazes on you, and you know Aventurine can too.

“I—are you going to”—your voice shakes as he pinches your nipple, as his other hand moves to squeeze your ass instead. Your dress is short—designed for easy access—and his fingertips easily skim the underside of its skirt. You wonder if he’s going to pull it up. You wonder if he's going to go even further than that.

But that would be an absurd thing to do in the middle of the busiest casino in the colony, which also happens to be the busiest trade hub in its star system. It would be absurd even for the two of you. Nevermind the reactions of the other players in the room—the staff here would immediately blacklist you, and so would every other gambling house in Kinyoshi.

You try to calm yourself. “Are you—ah—going to take me upstairs?”

He's fully kneading your breasts now. You can feel your clit throbbing, your body responding to his rough and unrepentant touch. “Hm… I don't think I want to.” Aventurine’s voice drops. His smile takes on a distinctly wicked quality. “I think I'll take you right here.”

“But we’ll get kicked out,” you whine. Even as you protest though, you're panting and moving your hips now. Grabbing at his arms, rutting against him like you're in heat. His fingers hook around the thin straps of your dress, pull them down your shoulders, already starting to indulge despite your reservations. You bend into his touch.

“Kicked out? By who? The staff?” He smiles, as always. “I own the place now. I don't think they'll be giving me trouble.”

“Y—you what?” For a moment, you're too shocked to keep up the wanton show. “You do? Since when?”

“Since last night.” He thumbs one of the straps that's fallen halfway down your arms. The rest of your dress threatens to come down with it. “Technically it's the IPC who acquired it—or, well, their shell company did—but I'm their designated representative here. I signed the contract.”

“The IPC isn’t going to be upset that you're fucking a concubine, who's not even your concubine, on their new property?”

Aventurine shrugs. “They know the kind of establishment the Venetian is. People gamble with humans here all the time, you know, so this has definitely happened before. The IPC definitely expects it to happen again. And besides”—he returns his attention to your dress, starting to slip the fabric down your shoulders—“I'm just cashing out my winnings. I'm sure they wouldn't deny a gambler his vices. That'd be bad business.”

You want to say more, but then he tugs, suddenly exposing you. You’re bare in front of him—in front of everyone. You can feel eyes on you. Heat curls in your gut as he grabs your tits again, his satin gloves smooth across your skin, and your nipples pebble beneath them. “Hm… much better.”

“But…” You bite your lip, glancing around. There are so many people watching now—so many voyeurs, who've forgotten about their games and their slots. Though there are a greater number of people who are continuing as usual, studying their hands, smoking their cigarettes, unperturbed. All regulars and VIPs, you know from your intelligence.

Aventurine pauses as you catalogue the room, raising a brow. Probably he's surprised at your sudden modesty; you usually have none when his touch is involved.

“Of course,” he adds, “if you'd rather enjoy the suite upstairs…”

“No—I don’t mind staying down here… it's just that I’ve never…”

Your voice trails off. Your eyes traverse the space again. There are people who’ve fully thrown their cards down, greedily drinking in the sight of you instead. Even some of the dealers are watching between hands, glancing at you instead of watching for cheaters. Like this is public entertainment, like you're a show.

Aventurine tilts his head.

“You've never had sex with an audience?” he guesses. He sounds surprised—perplexed. You don't know why. You know he knows it's a stupid question. You know he knows the answer.

You had sex in front of people all the time before you met him. You did it for the exact reasons that he’s almost certainly done the same. To this table of business magnates, you are closer to an expensive watch than a human being; to the IPC, you are more like an overpriced knife; to this gambling hall, you're an interesting sideshow.

To your captors who fucked you in public, you guess you were something like a toy.

The thought sitting in your mouth is this: you've never had sex with an audience and enjoyed it. It was painful—not painful for the heart or the mind or anything else sentimental, but painful like it felt you were a fish being gutted open by a knife. And even beyond that physical pain, you simply didn't enjoy being passed around. You didn't like being owned by those people. You didn't like being an object for their entertainment, a spectacle to be consumed.

But it's different with Aventurine. You like being his luxury hand watch. You like being his elegant knife, his liar’s dice, his pretty poker chip. You like being his plaything, spread for his viewing whenever he wants. You want to be his object—the object of his affections, something he can parade around just like his expensive suits and his beautiful jewellery and his ostentatious furs. Look at me, he uses them to say. Look at what I own. Look at what I own despite this commodity code on my neck. Look at what I've won despite my eyes and my blood.

You want him to own you too. You want him to show everyone that he won you, that he bought you, that you're his possession now. That he, and he alone, is free to treat you like a toy.

You're getting wetter just thinking about it.

“Nevermind,” you whisper. “Let's do it.”

His smile widens ever so slightly. Slyer than usual.

“Good,” he says. He guides you into standing. “Let’s get you settled then.”

You're seated back on the card table. The cigarette is forgotten in the ashtray next to you. Aventurine takes the time to straighten out your dress, lifting the straps back up and affording you some modesty—before he gently lays you out.

You look up at him as you're spread in front of him, laid out next to his royal flush and winnings. Like you're another chip in his stacks, the most expensive one. He puts a hand beneath your leg, drapes it over his shoulder. He takes the opportunity to kiss your calf, his lips delicate.

You glance at the tables around you. You watch the business owners and politicians as they watch Aventurine. You watch them as they watch your boyfriend pepper kisses up your leg, unless he's settling in between them. Your thighs spread easily for him, and you don't resist as he hikes up your skirt.

Then he frowns.

“I’ve never seen these panties before.”

“They’re new,” you relay.

“From your husband?”

“Yup.”

“I see.”

You can't see his face, but he sounds distinctly displeased. You expect him to complain, to say they're not expensive enough or not designer enough or just plain ugly.

You don't expect him to tear them right off.

“Aventurine?!”

You're so surprised you sit up, just in time to see him throw tatters of silk to the floor.

“What?” He looks up at you, expression unbothered, almost mild. “It wasn't your colour.”

Your mouth opens. “But it was still very nice!”

“I'll buy you nicer ones later. I’ll buy you a whole drawer of nicer ones later, when we’re done here.”

He looks down again, humming. Your cheeks flush as he spreads your legs again, baring your glistening sex to him—this time completely bare. Satin glides along the inside of your thighs, and your breath hitches when he reaches their apex. You feel the light touch of a finger along your opening, and you feel your body responding, tightening around nothing.

“Tell me,” he says, “What else did your husband do with you?”

His voice is casual, almost disinterested, but you know Aventurine is listening carefully.

“Not much,” you answer truthfully. “I haven't cum in months, you know.”

“Oh?” He sounds surprised. “You don't have sex with him?”

“No. He's fucked me a lot. It”—you whimper, pausing when you feel his fingers spreading you open, fluttering hole and swollen clit exposed to him—“it just wasn't very good.”

“Then”—you feel a thumb press against your clit, and you swallow—“he never touched you here?”

“N-no.”

“Stupid of him.” He’s drawing slow, lazy circles into the bud now, making you squirm on the table. You press yourself eagerly toward his familiar touch, having desperately missed it for months. Aventurine, perhaps sensing your neediness, asks, “And you didn't touch yourself?”

“He didn't let me,” you whine, and now he's frowning at you.

“I knew I should have gotten you out of there sooner,” he says, and you have to bite back a laugh. Aventurine’s mouth curls at the sound, and he leans in to place a kiss on your thigh. “But that’s fine. I'll make it up to you now.”

Aventurine kisses are soft and precise. They pepper a path up your thigh while his fingers continue to play lazily with your clit. You want—need—to feel something inside you, but he doesn't oblige. His fingers merely run along your entrance, teasing your dripping pussy with luxury satin, and that's all they do, even as your hips buck needily toward him.

He pauses for just a moment. When you look at him, you see him staring at you—at the brand on your inner thigh, the commodity code that your captors left on you, branding you as a product to be used and sold.

His voice is almost soft when he asks, “And what did your husband say when he saw this?”

“He never did,” you reply. “He always fucked me from behind. And he never went down on me.” You pause, thinking about the way he spoke of his business. Of his trade partners. Of what your captors had done to your home when you told him about it, feigning intimacy only to be matched in cruelty. You think about the way he fucked you, how it felt to be gutted open on his expensive, silk sheets.

None of it matters to you, really. This is behaviour that you’ve long accepted, that your body always anticipates. But you always like to offer Aventurine intimacy, whether real or feigned, whether he returns it equally or responds with undeserved cruelty: “I think it wouldn't have bothered him if he had noticed it.”

You can't see Aventurine’s eyes, but you can feel his reaction when he places a chaste kiss on your product code.

“I should have gotten you out of there sooner,” he repeats. Then he pauses. “Maybe I shouldn't have let you go at all.”

“I didn't mind,” you say. You aren't lying. “You gave me up for a reason.”

He stands. Cups your face with a palm, luxuriant fabric and gold rings pressed against your skin. Sometimes he's given up the aventurine stone temporarily for assignments, parting with it in elaborate gambles that he always manages to win. The way he’s touching you now reminds you of the way he holds the gem whenever it returns to his hand.

“Well,” he says, “I’m sorry it took so long to get you back.”

Aventurine tilts your chin up for a kiss. You meet it eagerly, and it's so tender in its familiarity that every memory of your husband fades. There's only Aventurine, and his gentle mouth, and the way his hands slide your dress down again, how he palms your breasts again. How he teases one nipple with his expensive rings until you're moaning into his mouth. How his other hand travels down until his gloved hand is cupping your heat. You drag your hips against his touch, desperately seeking some kind of friction, your wetness drenching the cloth. Your cunt clenches around nothing, your body aching to be filled by him, aching in a way that it does for no one else.

It’s one of the most addictive feelings you've ever known.

Aventurine only stops touching you so he can push away all the chips, clearing space on the table. He ignores the cacophony as countless stacks fall over, not sparing the plastic coins a single glance. Like you're the only prize that matters to him, even though the sum of his winnings come out to more than you ever were worth.

He lays you out on the table again, flat on your back, exposed, before kissing a path down your body—your neck, your breasts, your stomach, between your thighs. He deigns to give your product code one more kiss, his lips so gentle that it makes you tremble—and then he finally puts his mouth on you. He licks a hot stripe from your dripping pussy up to the crest of your sex, and your eyes close in bliss.

If you felt any uncertainty before this, it's completely gone now. Your hands ghost over your tits, playing with them as Aventurine’s tongue plays with you. He sucks on your neglected clit, fingers squeezing your thighs, keeping you spread open and still for him. He presses in, lets you drag your cunt over his greedy mouth and grind your clit against his face. Heat and pressure coil tight in your belly as he pleasures you, your body flushing with the kind of bliss only Aventurine can give you. You’re so lost in it that you almost don’t notice how quiet the rest of the hall has gotten, the cacophony of chatter and slot machines oddly subdued—almost missing. In their absence, the obscene noises that Aventurine is drawing from your mouth and body are louder than they should be.

The pleasure in your belly is just starting to swell when he pulls away. You give him a pleading look as he leans over you, but before you can start begging for more, you feel his fingers press against your heat. He watches you with keen eyes as he starts rubbing your pussy, maybe enjoying the desperate noises you make at his touch. You buck your hips, moaning as your clit and entrance grind against the fabric of his gloves, seeking friction. You’re empty, aching, desperate to be filled, but you think you can finish like this, just by rutting against his satin fingers—

Aventurine withdraws his hand, and you whine.

“No,” you beg, “please, please keep going, I was getting close—”

He raises a brow, feigning surprise. “Keep going?” He brings up his hand, shows you his gloves. The satin is soaked, shiny and stained with your slick. “I don't think I should. Look at what a mess you’ve made of my gloves.” Aventurine hums, frowning. “These are designer, you know. And limited—there are only 95 pairs of these in the whole universe. And you're ruining them.”

“I'm sorry,” you say, mind so fogged with lust that you can't even return his teasing. “I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you, I'll do anything, just—just let me cum—”

“Anything?” His smile is sly.

“Anything.”

“Well. I suppose if you help me clean this up, I wouldn't mind rewarding you with more.”

You don't need to ask what he means by that. When he holds out his hand to you, runs a finger along your lips, you obediently open your mouth for him. Your tongue slides along the wet satin, only making his glove messier—but he seems not to mind. He merely watches intently as your tongue cleans his fingers, taking in the obscene image of you hungrily lapping your own slick off the expensive fabric.

He lets you ruin his glove thoroughly before finally drawing back, peeling it off.

“I'm not sure that did any good,” he says, frowning. “I’ll probably need to buy a new pair. But”—he pulls away, and you feel him settle between your legs again, his hands spreading them. “I'll still reward you for the effort.”

Aventurine is quick about getting his mouth back on you. His tongue is hot on your skin, expertly teasing your clit. You feel his fingers running along your entrance again, growing sticky with his need. He laughs when you press your hips toward his hand, desperate to be filled.

Then he's pressing his bare fingers into your heat, and your back is arching off the table.

The moan you let out is obscene. It only gets worse when his fingers curl, making the pressure in your belly even heavier. Utterly shameless, you beg for him as he fucks you with his fingers: Aventurine, please, please, I need more, please, I'm so close, I'm so close.

As if taking pity on you, his mouth finds your clit again, his fingers pressing into your sweet spot at the same time. And he doesn't let up, pushing into it even when you think you can't take anymore—tongue swirling against your overstimulated bud, fingers making you gush uncontrollably. You practically sob when you cum, a noise of desperation that echoes in the gambling hall.

His smile looks a little fonder than usual—or maybe just entertained—as he stands again and leans over you. You taste your own release in a messy, open-mouthed kiss, and he strokes your face when he pulls away.

“So good for me,” he praises. “Are you going to let me do more?”

You nod eagerly. “Whatever you like,” you say, all sense of shame gone from your body, “and however you want.”

Aventurine’s mouth curls. “Your husband fucked you from behind, right? Why don't you bend over for me, then? Let's show him how he should have been doing it.”

You see the diamond pupils of Aventurine’s eyes glance off to the side, where, sure enough, your husband is spectating with some of his business partners. You force yourself to turn away before you can smile, hiding your expression from the other men. You’re not meant to derive any real pleasure from any of this, let alone pleasure of the vindictive kind. Your relationship with Aventurine is supposedly nothing but a gambler and his newly won, human plaything. It would be suspicious if you appeared to be anything else.

You slink off the table in a distinctly performative way, and Aventurine plays equally into the show—probably an act as familiar to him as it is to you. He guides you into turning around, your eyes falling on the scattered cards on the tabletop, the casino’s eyes falling on you. His hands waste no time in pulling down your dress and reaching around to knead your breasts, in full view of the rest of the gambling hall. You're only vaguely aware of your audience now, registering the interested, hungry stares, but not really caring. You're too focused on the way that Aventurine is tugging and twisting at your nipples, at how he’s pressed up against your ass, his cock straining through his pants. You grind needily against him, whining.

Aventurine kisses your shoulder. “Poor thing. You've been neglected for so long, haven't you?” His hands retreat, and you hear the sound of a zipper being undone. Then your skirt’s being pushed up and you're being bent over, your dripping pussy fully presented to him. When you feel the press of his cockhead against your entrance, you desperately try to push yourself back onto him. But he doesn't allow you to—only running the tip along your wet folds, still sticky from your release, while he stills you with a gentle touch on your hip.

You make a pathetic, desperate noise. Aventurine chuckles, though there’s now a breathy quality to his voice.

“Be patient,” he chides. “I'll take care of you.”

You know he will. He always takes care of you, in a way that no one else ever has. Even when he gambles your life for some mission, even when he can barely afford you the barest hints of intimacy, even when he displays your body to an audience of slave traders and murderers—he always takes care of you. Even if you are only a knife or a wristwatch or a chip in one of his games, he still treats you like you're worth holding onto.

Aventurine finally moves. Your eyes flutter shut as you feel his cock sliding into you. Usually he needs to be careful after your long missions away from him, knowing you'll be tense. He understands that your body always anticipates being in pain after being touched by other people. But he has you so worked up right now—still dripping from your release, still pliant from his fingers, still eager to please him before the crowd—that your cunt easily swallows his length. The stretch is pure bliss, pleasure unfurling in your body as you're filled up properly for the first time in months. He's just as affected as you, breath shaking as he bottoms out.

“Fuck,” he breathes—laughs. “Nearly forgot how good this feels.” He pauses, his breathing slowing—almost stopping each time you squeeze around him. You turn back, throwing him a pleading glance, and he meets it with an endeared smile. “Eager today, aren't you?” He hums, a hand sliding along your waist. “You really do need to be properly fucked.”

He's stalling. Trying to give you a moment to adjust, but you don't need it. “Yes,” you encourage him. Aching for the press of his cock against your walls, you grind against him, and you hear a strangled groan as you force him to move inside you. “Please, Aventurine—please, please fuck me, I need it so badly—”

He hums, both hands grabbing your hips, his fingers sinking into you. “Well. Since you asked so nicely.”

The first thrust has your eyes going wide, your hands reaching for the card table as you’re forced to bend over. You spread our palms next to the mess of heart cards and shiny tokens, bracing yourself for the way your body’s about to be used. He doesn't give you time to breathe after, each stroke filling you deep and fast. The rest of the gambling hall grows very, very quiet as Aventurine fucks you, and suddenly all you can hear is the appreciative murmur of the crowd, clink of ice cubes in aged whiskey, the noisy flick of lighters as more patrons opt to pause their games and enjoy the show. You hear the shattering of all the stacks beside you, hundreds of thousands of dollars in chips fall over beside you, tokens clinking as they roll across the tabletop. But all of that is soon drowned out by the wet noise of your pussy being fucked open, the squelch of your slick around his cock. You moan each time he bottoms out, eager to be filled.

When you feel his cock press into your sweet spot, your moans quickly turn into cries.

You hear something like a breathy laugh from Aventurine. Your body always reveals itself so easily to him, and you know he enjoys it. He hits that spot again and again, builds an agonizing tension in your body with every thrust of his hips. It has your pussy gushing around him, your thighs growing wet and sticky with your need.

Just when it feels like you can't take anymore, he reaches down and presses his fingers against your throbbing clit. Your knees buckle as he toys with you, chest heaving against the table as he sets a brutal pace. You're—overwhelmed, mind going hazy as you're fucked mercilessly. So far gone, you can hardly register the disgruntled expression of your husband, the hungry gazes of his companions, the way that other players are starting to shift in their seats, palming themselves at the sight of your pussy being split open. There's only the tight coil in your gut, the chips between your fingers as you grab uselessly for something to ground you, the cock that's filling you over and over and over—and oh fuck, you’re going to cum, you're really going to cum after being won in a game, from having your pussy used like a sleeve, from being watched by men who will never own you no matter how many times they trade you, no matter how many times they fuck you, no matter how many times they pass you around, because you'll only ever belong to Aventurine—

Your orgasm crashes through your body, and you sob.

It's a broken, blissed out noise. Your pussy is equally shameless, gushing as you pulse around Aventurine’s cock. You go limp as he fucks you through your orgasm, uncaring about the mess you're making. He only groans as you squirt all over him, hips stuttering as he reaches his own peak—spilling himself inside you, pumping you full. Aventurine’s body slumps over yours as rides out his high, his face pressing into your shoulder. You find the wherewithal to shift yourself, just enough to your lips against the tattoo on his neck. He looks at you for a fleeting moment, the blue ring of his eyes electric on you, before capture your mouth in a desperate, messy kiss.

The two of you stay there for a long moment, panting into each other. Then Aventurine collects himself, remembers how to talk: “Fuck.”

You piece yourself together just as easily. Maybe even faster. Smiling into his mouth, you ask, “Enjoy yourself?”

“Clearly.” Aventurine presses his lips into your neck, lingering only briefly. “Can you walk?”

“I think so.”

Aventurine takes his time with moving, as if basking in the afterglow—or bragging in it. But he does rise, eventually. Pulls out slowly, making you shudder. He helps you to your feet, lets you hold onto him for support. His spend drips down your thighs as you right yourself, messy and hot on your skin. You can feel it sliding down your legs as you walk, braced against Aventurine as he guides you in the long walk toward the elevator. It slips all the way down to your calves, to your expensive heels, even onto the marble floor.

You're fairly certain that it's not an accident when Aventurine flips up your skirt as you pass your ex-husband. At the very least, it isn't a mistake when you stumble in that same moment, bending over and giving him a good look at your well-used pussy, now overfilled with your boyfriend’s cum. You don't stop to look at him, but you know he must be red-faced, displeased—aware that he’s been humiliated. Beaten by a Stoneheart, concubine stolen by Sigonian, one of his favourite possessions claimed by a former slave. You'd laugh if you could.

You can't help but kiss Aventurine while the two of you wait for the elevator, a smile glowing into his lips.

It's absurd, but a staff member approaches the two of you as you indulge in one another. Aventurine pulls away as you’re approached, looking mildly annoyed as he switches on his synesthesia beacon.

“Sir,” the staff says, “you’ve left your other winnings at the table.”

Even in his post-orgasm bliss, Aventurine responds promptly. “I’ll cash it all,” he says. “Send the money to my room. I'm not coming back tomorrow.”

“Very well. And the terms of the… human resource exchange that just happened?”

Aventurine’s jaw clicks. It's quiet, but surprising. You watch him carefully.

“We didn't bet contracts,” he says. “This is a concubine, not a slave. But tell Mister Li I'll buy them anyway. I'll pay whatever price he wants, which I’d wager is the company that he gambled and lost to me. Maybe suggest that to him.”

“Of course,” the staff member replies, bowing. Despite the first-rate service, Aventurine looks like he can't get out of there sooner enough as he guides you into the elevator. You give him a curious look as the door closes.

“You're going to give up a multiplanetary corporation just for this?” you ask.

“Not entirely. The IPC was planning to acquire it anyway. It'll be ours again in a few months.” He stares at your reflections in the mirror, his strange eyes lingering on your dishevelled form. “We’ll put your intel to good use,” he adds, and although Jade or Diamond or any of your real bosses would say this with a smile and reward you with a bonus, Aventurine’s expression is unreadable.

“What's on your mind?” you ask, fingers brushing against his hand. “You’re worried about something.”

Aventurine blinks, and it takes him a moment to recover.

“Nothing. Just hoping we didn't give our relationship away just now.” He cups your face with a hand, guides you into looking at his smile. A deflection. “I might have gotten carried away.”

You lean into his touch, eyes playful: a performance. As if he's some stranger that you're servicing, a captor being entertained; as if you're a plaything about to be used. As if you expect to be treated like the disposable commodity that your husband just gambled away.

“I wouldn't worry,” you reassure him. “I'm sure after the show we put on, it'll be clear to anyone that you're only keeping me around for sex.”

It's very, very subtle, but a muscle in Aventurine's neck twitches. He'd never allow it in a game of cards, never before the IPC, never before the prying eyes of slavers and killers—but he allows it in front of you. He always unwittingly bares himself to you, even as he swallows his discomfort before adopting his usual, vulpine expression. You don't think anyone else would notice what lies beneath the gilded surface of his smile, his liar’s eyes. You don't think anyone else would notice his tells, his vulnerabilities, his quiet fear of loss.

After all, there is no one else in this universe who knows how to trick him into intimacy.

Winning has always come with a certain emptiness for Aventurine. Gambling is, after all, a zero sum game. He plays a royal flush and people lose their homes. Winner takes all. He survives the fighting pits, his blade dripping red with the lives of other slaves. Winner takes all. He runs from the stench of blood and burning flesh, praying for thunder and rain loud enough to drown the screams of his dying kin. Winner takes all.

He alone survives. He alone enjoys his riches. Ever since the Avgin died, he has always been by himself. There is no amount of coin nor credit that will ever change this.

Here is another unyielding fact that hollows any win: that no matter how many credits he collects, he will always be a chip himself. He will always be a plastic token worth sixty coppers. Gambling is a zero-sum game, and ever since the day he was chained, Aventurine has been the pool of riches divided among winners. He has always been the commodity being traded between hands. He has always been the prize to be cashed out and used. Even now, with all this money and power, it will never be him who comes to collect: it will always be the IPC. Winner takes all.

Such is his fate. Luck is always on his side, but he has always had the losing hand against destiny. No matter how many times he wins, there is nothing that will ever truly belong to him.

But then he met you.

Then he met you, and now his luck does not always feel like such a cruel or empty thing. Now the zero-sum game has meaning. He hedges his bets in the market and buys out a planet, and acquires you along with the shares. Winner takes all. He gambles his life against a nuclear power and comes out on top, and the IPC allows him to keep you by his side. Winner takes all. He plays a royal flush and wins at a table of slave traders, and he gets to fuck you until you can't think of any cock but his own. Winner takes all.

Gambling is a zero-sum game, and when you're the reward, Aventurine wouldn't have it any other way. He’ll never share you with anyone. He'll never sell you to anyone.

He’ll never lose you to anyone.

Sometimes it surprises him, this attachment he feels to you. He doesn't quite understand it, but he thinks it mostly just has to do with how good it feels to fuck you. Much like gambling, Aventurine has never enjoyed sex until you came along. Sex for him has always felt like a humiliation, like being gutted open as a captive animal, like being won and passed around in the grand hall of some gaudy casino.

Which is, in fact, another thing he never thought he'd enjoy: having sex in the Venetian Zhijin before an audience of revolting men. He'd resented having to do it as a slave, but he’d enjoyed doing it with you as a Stoneheart. He'd even do it again if he could—take you over and over again on that card table, fill you up with his cum. Spread your cunt in front of everyone, so they could see for themselves that you were now his. Winner takes all.

Winning doesn't feel empty when you're his reward. Sex doesn't either. Because Aventurine isn't a chip or an animal or a commodity when he fucks you—he's a player. Someone with a seat at the table, as just as wealthy and powerful as the slave traders around him. Someone who’s allowed to own something—really own something.

Really allowed to own you.

Aventurine owns you. When he fucks you, he is a player at the table, and you are the prize he gets to keep. And no matter how you feel about him and how you act toward him—this is all the two of you will ever be. He knows this. He knows that you know it too.

So sometimes he can't fathom it, the way he treats you in bed. The way he always kisses your commodity code when he sees it, the way he allows you to kiss his own. The way he always thinks about pleasuring you until you're drunk on his cock, so addicted to him that you’ll never want to be touched by anyone else. The way he always likes how your body feels when it's being shaped by his hands. How different it feels from being forced to touch other people.

How badly you make him want something that he's always hated.

And this is what he understands least of all: how he doesn't like to hear you say aloud the true nature of your relationship. How he doesn't like it when you accept this reality and say, you're only keeping me around for sex.

It hollows him out when he hears it. A bitter feeling swells in his throat, and he forces himself to swallow.

Aventurine keeps his face neutral as he enters the suite with you. As soon as the door is shut, you pull him close—close enough for him to see the blurred lines of your lipstick, smudged from his mouth; close enough to see the white diamond necklace on your neck, a collar for a concubine; close enough to see the finger-shaped discolorations on your throat, poorly hidden by your foundation.

Close enough to see all the things done to your body by others—all the things you didn't choose for yourself.

“How do you want to have me next?” Your fingertip traces his lips. “On the bed? In the shower?” Your eyes are playful. “Maybe against the window?”

Aventurine’s hand cups your cheek, gold rings pressed against your skin. His hold is delicate, more careful than with anything else he's ever handled—any of his watches, his furs, his jewellery. Even more than with the aventurine stone.

“I want to kiss you,” he says.

You blink.

“Kiss me?” Your brow ticks up, but then your face lights up in supposed understanding. “Okay. You can kiss me. And then?”

“And then I'll keep kissing you.”

You tilt your head, not understanding. “Really?”

“What? Is that off-limits now?” He leans in, expression playful. “Don't tell me I've got to go back downstairs and win back permission to kiss you from your husband.”

Before you can say anything else—ask anything else, perceive anything else—he presses his mouth to yours. Your eyes widen for only a moment before falling shut, your arms wrapping around his neck. Your lips part for him, and he delights in the noise you make as he deepens the kiss.

He did lie, in a way. The two of you do end up fucking again—this time in bed, your mouth gasping into his as you fall apart for him, wet and needy around his cock. You're so warm around him, so pliable beneath him, so desperate when possessed by him. He knows that he could keep going, that he could do anything to you, that you'd be eager to let him use you however he wants.

But all he does afterward is kiss you.

This is yet another act that he never thought he'd enjoy. Kissing has always felt like a chore or a power play or a manipulation. It has always come with a certain emptiness—just like gambling, just like sex. And then he met you, and now it no longer feels so hollow. Because when he wins bets for the IPC, he feels like a poker chip in one of their games, but when he’s fucking you, he feels like a player at the table. And sometimes, when he kisses you—when he holds you close, when you come down from your high and press your face into the crook of his neck and in the vulnerable haze of your bliss, tell him, I missed you—

—he finally feels like a human being.

end notes: christ alive I have never written anything so horny glddjsksjs. I apologize for both my mid smut writing and deranged characterization 💔

initially this was supposed to be brainless pwp about aventurine eating you out on a poker table but I kept asking myself “why the hell did aventurine gamble for human beings and why are these two insane enough to be fucking in a casino tho lol”, and thus a coherent narrative was born from my shameless lust for this guy! but please also don't take the story too seriously because this is a dumb smut piece first and foremost and I mostly wrote it with my clit 😔✌️

that being said, if you are curious about the subject matter that I covered – here's an afterword expanding on my intentions with the themes.

#aventurine x reader #aventurine smut #hsr smut #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #x reader #im so tired of editing this the quality of this piece is a lost cause sldkfjsldkfj #DIVIDER BY @/CAFEKITSUNE BTW it is so cute i thought it was perfect for this fic #anyway. sorry to everyone for character assassinating our favourite gambler #yueshuo.fics #dead dove #cw.slavery

696 notes · View notes

reiderwriter · 1 day

Text

🧺 Any More 🧺

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024

Requested: spencer realizing that he’ll never love someone as much as he loves you. (whether that be because of a case or what have you), his mind is absolutely blown with how much he worships you and how much you love and care for him and he shows you that with the softest most sickeningly sweet sex you and him has ever done. <3

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI! Discussions of case details, case burnout, very close friends to lovers, oral (f receiving), vanilla sex (p in v penetration). Discussions of mental health, and two idiots in love.

A/N: I'm hitting the prompt Vanilla for this one, so please don't be scared off by the KinkBingo tags! I had a lot of fun writing this one (and adding Pride and Prejudice quotes into the smut scene because HELLO). Let me know what you think in the replies~♡

Masterlist || Bingo Board

You hadn't seen Spencer in 100 days. Which in the grand scheme of things wasn't that long, trapped in the purgatory of a ‘what if’ the way you had been for the last eight years.

You'd lived without him for longer than 100 days before. He'd been in prison, you'd been on assignments, you'd lived an entire life before meeting him, but now somehow 100 days was too much time, and you were exhausted. You understood why Spencer had to take some time away from you, from the team in an official capacity after everything he'd been through. You supported him even.

But when even your free time didn't overlap anymore, you wondered if your relationship would ever be the same again.

Spencer was a friend, your best friend, probably. You'd arrived on the BAU team, he'd rattled off some statistics, stammering the way through them, and you'd immediately warmed to the man. He was brilliant, funny, and fiercely loyal, and you tried your best to protect him even when the job seemed designed to break people like him into thousands of little pieces.

You'd tried to convince him to leave before, after Maeve had died. You didn't want to see him heart broken again, but no one else had seemed to agree.

“Reid needs purpose,” they'd said. “Reid needs something to do.”

What Reid needed was to not end up dead before he had a chance to be happy, and happiness didn't come often in your field of work.

You'd been almost vindicated a year later when he'd been shot again, almost fatally. Vindicated, maybe but distraught and inconsolable. Morgan had to carry you screaming and clawing out of his hospital room multiple times. It sounded stupid enough to yourself that it was only then you realized your feelings for the man.

You wanted to be Spencer Reid's happiness, which was why you were so lost without him.

He was coming back on Monday, and at least you had the weekend to sort your feelings out about everything.not just about him, but about the job you'd found didn't fit you well enough anymore, about the team you loved like family, about the relationship you knew would likely never come to fruition.

You dumped your bags at your door when you'd arrived in your house that night, pushed yourself into your bedroom and let yourself collapse on your bed, balling up into as cozy a position as you could. You didn't even bother taking your jacket off, you just let your brain haze over and sleep rush in.

Three quiet raps at your door lifted you up and out of bed again, not an hour later.

You grabbed your phone, grabbed the second go-bag you kept at your house, put your shoes back on, and opened the door, expecting Emily and a new case.

“Where are we going?” You said, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, not even looking up at your guest.

“Hopefully, nowhere? I brought takeout.”

Your eyes widened then, taking in all 185cm of Doctor Spencer Reid, tweed jacket and plastic bag full of chow mein included.

“Spencer,” you breathed out, like a sigh of relief, letting the bag drop to the floor next to the first one and letting yourself into his arms.

He held you carefully there for a second before leading you back into the apartment, wrapping an arm around you and ruffling your hair. It was brotherly, and it made you sick to your stomach.

“What are you doing here?”

“Emily said you were back from a case,” he started, unpacking the takeaway from the containers. “And it feels wrong to eat this without you.”

You rolled your eyes and followed him into the kitchen, pulling two forks out of the drawer nearer you and stabbing them in the top of your two cups.

“Hey, I can use chopsticks now,” he said, defending himself against an inside joke. Spencer was always useless with his hands.

“I don't care if you can use them, I care that they don't accidentally end up stabbing me,” you said, taking yourself back to your bedroom, Spencer following.

“You'd hardly die from being stabbed by a wooden chopstick, maybe a papercut or a splinter but-”

“But you're just bad enough that I don't want to risk it.”

You kicked off your shoes again and climbed onto your bed. Spencer followed.

“Remind me again why we aren't sitting on your couch?”

“Uncomfortable.”

“Or at your breakfast bar?”

“Glorified filing cabinet right now. Eat.”

He shook his head but complied, leaning back against your pillows as you both began carefully eating. Silently, you pulled your laptop onto your bed, opened it up, and pressed play on a movie, one you'd seen more than once, and you'd forced Spencer to watch before as well.

In a comfortable, friendly silence, you finished your food. You stretched out in a yawn once and then curled into his side, letting his mumbling voice, repeating the movie lines as they were spoken, lull you softly into sleep.

Spencer knew he had to leave, but he couldn't bring himself to wake you. The movie had finished hours ago, he'd closed the laptop and turned off the bug lights, but he couldn't leave.

Unlike you, he hadn't counted the days that you'd been apart. He hadn't needed to. He knew you'd be waiting there for him when he returned, knew you'd give him a smile and a pat on the back, and immediately start bouncing ideas off of him. It was what he loved about you.

As he laid next to you in your bed, a place he'd absolutely been before, his heart thumped. Just once, but hard.

Even in sleep, you looked exhausted. Your shirt was crumpled, hair a mess, you were still wearing makeup, and he knew he'd probably get an earful for letting you sleep like that in the morning. You were a mess, and he still wanted you.

The thought came to him suddenly, another painful thump of his chest echoing in his mind. He rubbed absent mindedly at his chest as if experiencing heartburn. In the dim light of the room, he let his head drop to the pillow and wrapped two shaky arms around you and pulled you in closer.

The two of you were a picture - both in suits, both with badges still somewhere on your person, both dearly clinging to the person they feared losing the most.

When you woke the next morning, it was actually the afternoon.

“Spencer,” you groaned, melting under the heat of his embrace. Somehow, during the night, he'd rolled on top of you, pressing you into the bed with a delightful pressure, head nuzzled into your neck, arms tucked around your waist.

“Spencer, we should get up,” you said again, forcing your eyelids apart as your mascara tried to glue them together.

“Mmmmhh,” he groaned, moving to pick himself up off you for a minute but lowering himself again. If asked, he'd blame your hand in his hair, stroking the rogue curls gently, as if he were a prized pet and you their carer.

“Spencer, its 2pm.”

“On a Saturday.” You laughed at how pouty his voice sounded, but he complied and rolled off of you slightly, arms still wrapped around you.

“Come on. Get up. I've got some clothes that might fit you, let's get you out of the tweed.”

He huffed but nodded and lifted himself halfway to upright, eyes still closed lazily as he let in the light millimetre by millimetre.

“God, my face feels horrible,” you said, itching at your nose. “How did we even sleep so long like this? My belt is still on, Spencer, my belt.”

“If you were still wearing a weapon, then I'd be worried,” he smiled.

You shot him a sarcastic look and finally detangled yourself, only to clasp his hands and pull him forward as well, letting him trail you to your closet.

“Here, change in the bathroom,” he nodded and walked away, following directions with eyes still closed, as if it were really his apartment and not your own.

100 days without him, and it was as if it had only been 100 hours. Your entire body chemistry changed when he was around, the stick holding your spine rigidly in place, dissolving into calm, into a smile and a free giggle. It felt right again, and you almost forgot you'd ever felt wrong.

After briefly changing, you swapped place with Spencer, who'd exited the bathroom with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth and wet hair.

“Dry it for me?” He asked, sitting on your couch, and you nodded your ascent. A shower and a quick change later, and you were doing just that.

As much as he tried to keep his head upright, it kept lolling onto your thigh, yawns stretching out of him as he nuzzled closer to you.

“Spencer, you're like a big kid, keep your head up.”

“I'm not a kid,” he laughed, hooking his arms behind your knees and nuzzling closer into your soft sweats. “I'm just tired.”

“You're right. A child would probably be better behaved.”

“Our child would be,” he sighed, but you'd already turned the hairdryer back on, drowning out everything. Everything but that thump again. A child, he was thinking about children, and more importantly, he was thinking about your children. With him.

He'd always imagined himself with a family, knowing it would ultimately stay in his imagination. But for a second, his visions changed. It wasn't just a child or two. It was you. Thump.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

He only released the image when you finally pushed his head off of you and stood, turning away from him to get a glass of water from your kitchen.

“So, any plans today? Books to read, papers to mark, undergrads to run away screaming from?” You let the ice water cool your hot cheeks, but kept your back to him. You were hot, embarrassed, and you were looking at him in a sickeningly sweet way that could only be described as love struck or struck dumb.

“No, no, I finished all my obligations at the college yesterday,” he said, following behind you and picking up your cup when you set it down, taking a sip himself.

“I was… I was actually hoping we could spend some time together? Unless you had plans, which is totally fine-”

“No, Spencer, yeah, I have no plans, that's…. Well I have to do laundry, which is a bit boring but, no. No plans.”

“Laundry?”

“Two week case in Florida, I don't know how you didn't smell me yesterday, Spencer. I'd be running for the hills.”

He laughed and stepped away again, grabbing the two go bags by the door and coming back into your space.

“How about we get this done now so we can spend the day in a Who-Trek marathon?”

“Make that a Who-Greys Anatomy Marathon, and you have yourself a deal.”

He pouted again, and you snorted at the sight, taking another sip of water to calm yourself before you could react safely to that face.

“Come on, you know you've been dying to know what happens next at the Grey Sloane Memorial Hospital.”

“I thought it was called the Seattle Grace Mercy?”

“Oh we better get to that laundry now. You have a lot to catch up on.”

Grabbing a bag in one hand and his free hand in your other, you made your way down to your building's laundry room. But despite the man by your side and the relaxing day threatening to stretch ahead of you, a gloom caught you in the corridors.

You'd worked for two weeks, practically solid. You'd killed a man two days ago, or at least someone on your team had multiple shots having been fired. Another day on your job, another unsub felled, and everyone else was content with this just being a part of the job description.

It felt like each step towards the laundry room, each thing you did that was normal, that was regular, threw back in your face the pain you endured to save lives.

The bag in your hand weighed you down, pulling you lower and lower by the second.

You reached the laundry room, and you found the weight almost unbearable, stopping just before you could step in. You didn't have to think about what came next though, because suddenly the bag was out of your hands and Spencer was sorting your laundry for you.

“It's a Saturday, so your neighbour's won't complain if we separate the darks and lights into two machines, will they?” He asked, not looking up at you as he worked pouring out the fabric softener and the detergent. “Y/N?”

You hadn't noticed the lightness in your body until the tears hit your cheeks, the weight gone with his support.

“Y/N, what is it? What's wrong?” He said, hands cupping your face, because of course he was immediately at your side.

“I-I can't do it, Spencer…” your voice shook, pitching upwards, your vision blurring with tears.

“Can't do what, Y/N? Talk to me please, let me help?”

“I can't do laundry!” You said, finally bursting into a full fit of tears and burying your head in his waiting chest.

“L-Laundry?” He said, trying not to laugh, but the smile slipping out anyway now you were holding him.

You only sobbed again, nodding into his shirt, aware you were probably leaving snot all over it but not being able to care. It was your shirt anyway. You would just have to add it back to your laundry pile.

The thought set you off on another wave of sobs, and Spencer set about comforting you again. Keeping an arm wrapped around you, he put his quarters into the machines and set them off before quickly ushering you back up the stairs into your apartment.

“Y/N? Y/N, please talk to me,” he begged, smoothing your hair out of your eyes as you tried to gather yourself.

“I don't…. I can't….” You took a breath again, aware of the way your breathing hitched in your chest as you did.

“I don't think I can do this anymore,” you said, and his eyes widened quickly.

“This? Y/N, if you mean this as in us, then I can't-”

“This job,” you clarified, hands digging into the soft flesh of his arms further as he held you, finally sitting back on your couch.

“The job. Okay, the job. That's okay. We all feel like this at some point.”

You sniffed again and refused to meet his eyes.

“But this isn't like the other times this - It's like my whole b-body is protesting, and I can't sleep, and if I don't, then I might get sloppy and an unsub could-”

“Y/N, focus on my voice. You're spiralling. Listen to my voice, let's take some breaths, and think about this for a second.”

He guided you through some breathing, a hand on your back tapping out beats even as his voice grew quiet.

When you finally relaxed, you were sat on top of him, his hand rubbing circles into your back.

“I think it started when you left,” you whispered. “When you went to Mexico, and then, you know,” you've voice thickened, and you couldn't get the words out.

“And then these last 100 days they've just been…difficult.”

“100…difficult,” he echoed, almost breathless as he listened to you.

“It's like I can't do it without you. I never had to try to do it without you, and now I get what people say when they say this job is shitty, because it is when your best friend isn't there.”

You gave him a weak smile and wiped away your tears, trying to climb from his lap. But his firm arms held you still, and you didn't really want out anyways.

“When I get home, everything is different, and I can't make myself do anything. If you weren't here, I wouldn't have done that laundry. I'd let it sit and avoid it for weeks. Do you understand?”

“Y/N, lots of people feel depressed sometimes-”

“It's not - Spencer, I don't think this is something I can medicate my way out of. I don't know what to do because I can't do my job without you, and I can't be happy doing my job, and if I leave my job I'll be without you and then-”

Your voice cracked again.

“And then I still won't be happy.” The words were barely a whisper, but they were a plea, too. You weren't sure what for.

“You can't be happy without me?” He asked, but it was more a statement than anything else. Spencer felt horrible in that moment as his chest rattled, gleeful that he was your happiness.

“I love you,” he said, outloud finally after eight years.

“I love you, too, Spencer, but-”

“No, Y/N. Listen to me. I. Love. You.” The thumping of his heart set the tempo for the choir that was his senses to begin singing, as he finally leaned forward and kissed you.

“I love you, and I don't care if you're working at the BAU or if you're avoiding laundry at home. I, god, you're amazing and wonderful, and you're a human being, and you've our yourself under so much pressure for the last decade to keep me alive, to keep all of us alive really and….”

He took another breath, leaning into kiss you one more time.

“And you deserve a break.”

“W-When we take breaks, people die.”

“Did anyone die when I was teaching for the last three months? When JJ went on maternity leave?”

You shook your head, but your brain was still a mess.

“You all had reasons, I-”

“You have reasons, too. Y/N…. Y/N, let me be your reason.”

For a moment or two, Spencer truly thought you were going to say no. He thought you would get up and walk away, or better yet, ask him to leave and never come back.

So when you pressed your lips to his, he was sure that this was a dream.

But to you, it was salvation. Spencer Reid's love was the lifeline you'd been thrown, and it was buoyant enough to make you start floating.

His hands kneaded the flesh at your hips as he pulled you closer still to him, his tongue slipping into your mouth to explore every part of you there.

“Y/N… love…you,” he mumbled with each spare breath he caught, and you only detangled your lips to hear him say it again as he pressed similarly heated kisses against every inch of your exposed skin.

When Spencer's mind lost its ability to create original speech, he leant back on a lifetime of information, of learning love through books and people and marathons with you.

“I know that all I know right now is that I love you. And I know that I always will,” he whispered, lifting you and carrying you back to the bed you'd only crawled from an hour hence.

A hand slid under your shirt, and slowly pushed it over your head, letting it slowly drop to the floor as he held you tenderly.

“To me, you are perfect.”

His mouth found one nipple, and he gently kissed, then suckled at it, hands softly caressing your stomach, feeling along every ridge of you as you writhed under him.

“Of all the FBI Units, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine.”

“Spencer,” you said, voice still thick with tears, but these ones more tender, more joyful.

His hand eased your sweats over your ass and off, his hips settling between your legs as if he found the place he was made to lie forever.

“The truth of it is, I’ve loved you from the first second I met you.”

His mouth trailed lower until his tongue hit your clit, brushing against it languidly, as if it was his deepest desire to taste you and nothing else ever again.

His tongue flattened and flicked and pushed inside of you as you replayed his words again and again and again. You found yourself repeating them with him.

“I love you,” you echoed as he pushed a finger inside of you.

“I.. love you,” you gasped as he added another.

“I love you,” you screamed as your back arched up off the bed, finding your pleasure in his tongue, just ad you'd found love in his words.

“You have bewitched me body and soul, and I love….” He freed his cock from his pants, and took it in hand.

“I love…” With another kiss, he pressed the tip of it against you, asking for permission silently as you nodded your head.

“I love you.” He pushed in slowly, but it wouldn't matter how he did it because now you knew how he felt, and you didn't want to return to a time of not knowing.

Hooking your legs around him, Spencer dropped his forehead to yours and looked you directly in the eyes as he began moving. In and out, he thrust, mouth open in a moan of pleasure, likely mirroring your own.

The poetry, the movie lines, they were gone now, and Spencer was left with nothing but you, and love, and love for you.

“Spencer,” you moaned out, and he felt his chest swell. Pride. His name on your tongue, his body pressed to yours, claiming you as his ad you claimed him as yours.

He came with a shudder and you were not far behind, his undoing sending a shiver up your spine as his fingers grazed your clit again.

You sat panting for a minute, still attached, still forehead to forehead.

You weren't sure if it was him who giggled first or if it was you, but you were glad it was one of you.

You spent the rest of the night, the rest of the weekend, wrapped in his warmth, dressed in his love, taking each day a step at a time as you basked in his adoration.

579 notes · View notes

hhughes · 3 days

Text

♯ 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐂𝐎◞ 𝑴𝑩¹³

✰ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⤫ leclerc!sister x mat barzal

✰ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ⤫ in which the paddock’s favourite sister arrives at the Monaco GP with a new guest

✰ 𝐜𝐰 ⤫ none.

✰ 𝐚/𝐧 ⤫ ngl. . . this is very self indulgent 🤷‍♀️ but I hope you enjoy anyway <3

f1wags

f1wags: our favourite girl has returned to the paddock; and this time it’s with a guest! Y/N leclerc shows up to the monaco track with who I presume to be her bf, and sits down for lunch with her brothers. the first time we’ve seen the entire leclerc family together in a while since Y/N has been in New York for work.

view all comments

user15: family reunion🥺

user19: my royal family of Monaco fr

user77: I’m so happy to see them all together again. I just know Charles missed her so much🥲

user66: I read an article that said Y/N came straight from the airport so this is the first interaction they’ve had in months!

f1wags: he hugged her for a good ten minutes before he let anyone else get a chance

user51: um- are we gonna skip over the bf part??

user16: how do we know it’s her bf tho…

f1wags: they were very affectionate since the moment they got out of the together. the car that arrived from the airport, so assume he’s american and flew with her. they also kissed and it looked like he was meeting her family (charles, arthur, lozenzo, pascal) I mean we won’t know 100% until she confirms it but it sure looks like they’re together. . .

user77: nooo… my wife is taken 😔

user11: I really wanna know who her bf is tho cause I’m sorry but he’s fineeeee

user62: I expected nothing less from a leclerc sibling. they always bag the prettiest people

lando.jpg

liked by charlesleclerc, ynleclerc, matbarzal and others.

lando.jpg: boat day with the bestie(s?) 🛥️

view all comments

user23: DID HE JUST—

user65: HE DID😭😭

user21: did lando just hard launch Y/N’s relationship?

user57: yep. tagged the guy and everything💀

user66: he’s such a little menace

user22: I’m not complaining I’ve been trying to figure out who it is for days🙏 thank you lando

ynleclerc: oh lando🫤

landonorris: don’t “oh lando” me, you didn’t say it was a secret????

ynleclerc: what do you think the words NOT PUBLIC means??

landonorris: the lad had his hands ALL over you in the paddock, it was gonna be public news by the end of the weekend… at least this way it came from a reliable source🤷‍♂️

user62: don’t let the fact that Y/N is dating some hot hockey player from New York distract you from the fact that the besties are reunited!!! I’ve been missing this duo so much

user90: and they’re causing chaos as usual🥲

ynleclerc

liked by charlesleclerc, matbarzal, and others.

ynleclerc: since we were little, I’ve always been your biggest supporter and that will never change charlie. watching you achieve a dream you’ve worked your whole life to achieve is something so magical and all I could ever wish for you as a sibling. congratulations C! I love you endlessly❤️💌

view all comments

user13: “watching you achieve a dream you’ve worked your whole life to achieve is something so magical and all I could ever wish for you as a sibling” UM— EXCUSE ME WHILE I GO SOB😭😭

charlesleclerc: I couldn’t possibly do any of this without your love and support. my lucky charm, always. je t'aime❤️❤️❤️

ynleclerc: ❤️

user76: he finally did it😭🙏

user66: these are so beautiful… did you take them?? @.ynleclerc

ynleclerc: I did! I’ve never been so grateful that I carry my camera with me EVERYWHERE. I feel so honoured that I got to capture this entire weekend. I’ll cherish it forever😚

matbarzal

liked by charlesleclerc, jackhughes, and others.

matbarzal: starting the off-season right ❤️

view all comments

noahdobson: just casually posts a picture with charles leclerc and lando norris 🧍‍♂️

matbarzal: I’ll still remember you when I’m famous😘

user72: what. the. fuck.

user77: all of us rn cause this is the wildest crossover I could ever imagine between F1 and hockey😭

user11: they’re both so hot it’s kind of unfair

ynleclerc: ❤️

matbarzal: je t'aime❤️

user55: I wonder if she made fun of Mat’s awful canadian french 😭😭

mattymarts: you expect us to believe you did laundry? I don’t think you even know how

charlesleclerc: I won. guess you’re gonna have to come to every race now 🤷‍♂️

matbarzal: should’ve never told you about superstitions 😔you don’t need them, that win was all you bro😉

charlesleclerc: miss you guys already. gonna have to come to a hockey game next season

matbarzal: you should! we’d be honoured to have you

user77: did someone say bromance??

user19: someone check on beau

ynleclerc

liked by charlesleclerc, matbarzal, and others.

ynleclerc: monaco❤️

view all comments

matbarzal: red is definitely your colour baby❤️🥵

scuderiaferrari: we agree😌🏎️

charlesleclerc: thanks for coming sis❤️

arthurleclerc: miss you already🥺❤️

sydneymartin: so iconic😍

ynleclerc: says the ms. iconic herself 🥰

user21: UM— Mat looks so good OMFG

user72: she definitely dressed him

user62: YN please keep the Mat content coming🙏

user14: if I was YN leclerc all my life problems would be solved

ynleclerc: If I had your lashes all my problems would be solved. you’re stunning 😚

user16: you know those couples that just make sense? they’re definitely one of those

user88: can’t wait to see her at games and stuff

#── ❛ 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐢’𝐬 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐮’𝐬 ✗ MB13 #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal x you #mat barzal x y/n #mat barzal x oc #mat barzal fic #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal smau #f1 smau #f1 x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader

464 notes · View notes

hiddenlife-manager · 2 days

Note

I CANT STOP THINKING OF SMUT FIC IDEAS

ok hear me out lando and the reader are kind of like sneaky links and lando gets back to monaco and texts the reader “can i sleep over” and then the reader says yes. And then when lando gets to her house their kind of flirty but the reader is playing hard to get and instead of bringing him to her bedroom she just says the guest rooms clean and then closes her bedroom door on him lol. but then in the middle of the night lando comes into her room and is like “i can’t sleep” and then the reader gives in and they fuckkk

Lando Norris X Fem Reader

cw… pussy rubbing, teasing, slight plot, not edited, dom lando, hella confident lando, FWB, creampie, emotions, wall sex, quick and hard, etc...

notepad… YALL I love this one def was last minute. I was so busy today. But still I won't be taking request until I finish what I have. So my request will be temporary for some time. I hope ya'll don't mind just trying to finish what I have for everyone.

You looked at the phone quietly, unsure of how to respond. It has been some time since you saw Lando, and you needed him badly. But you also knew that coming straight up and saying that you needed him would cause him to bully you hard. You two were not in a relationship; you knew that, and he knew that, yet you two constantly fucked with no strings attached.

“Fine.” You found yourself texting back, clearly trying to hide the excitement you held for him to come over. You knew what you two would end up doing; you wanted him to wait; you wanted him to think that you two were friends and nothing more; and your desire for him was truly nonexistent, even if in your head you desired him with all your heart.

Minutes passed, anxious for his arrival, until finally Lando knocked at your door to your large apartment. You rapidly got up from the couch, ignoring the fact that minutes ago your leg bounced, waiting for his arrival. You walked to the door and smiled, seeing his smirk. He grabbed your waist and pulled you in.

“Hey beautiful.” He whispered to you, leaning down to kiss your lips right as he was about to reach your plush lips. You moved your head, causing him to kiss your collarbone. You smiled; you wanted him to need you desperately.

“Welcome back to Monaco, Lando.” You walked into your apartment, and he followed suit, still left stunned at your actions. He sat down on your couch, his legs opening while he tapped at his thighs. You sat on his thighs, and he held you close.

“Now what was that? Hiding something beautiful?” He grabbed your chin, making you look at him, and shrugged innocently.

“What do you mean? I am not hiding anything.” You giggled out, his sigh being heard right next to you. Clearly, he is still unaware of your plans, and you smiled. The entire night, you were on his lap, rubbing his cock, flirting with him, and avoiding his kisses. You were leading him until it was finally time to go to sleep.

“Your room, like always?” He questioned you, holding your hands tight around your waist. You knew he was hard, and you had to play him like a fiddle.

“You said you were staying over; take the guest bedroom. I need my bed for myself.” You got off his lap and walked off while he watched you walk off. He groaned his head back, his Adam's apple bobbing and swallowing his saliva. He needed you, and you were playing a stupid game.

You made it to your room, shutting the door and smirking, your body leaning against the door. You were getting what you wanted. You two were friends with benefits; of course you wanted to play with him; he played with you; it was only fair you did the same. You walked through your room, stripping your clothes off to put on your pajamas, until you heard the door opening behind you. You tried to cover yourself with your robes after seeing Lando walk in.

“Can’t sleep.” He smirked, raising his hands up as if you were holding a gun to him. His eyes scanned your body, which made him fucking insane.

“Bullshit I just left; I bet you haven’t even stepped foot in my guest bedroom.” He shrugged, walking over to you, his hands laid down on your hips.

“Guilty as charged.” He looked at you; his hands grabbed your face and forcefully kissed you. Your eyes were left wide in shock. The two of you fell onto your bed. He desired this kiss more than anything. He groaned into the kiss, his hands lowering down to your robes, taking it off your shoulder. "Beautiful, you had your fun; now it is my turn.”

His hands traveled down to your legs, opening them to see your soaking cunt. He placed his fingers on his lips, sucking them and taking it out of his mouth with a pop. He placed his warm fingers on your clit causing you to react with a quick gasp. His fingers make circular figures slowly on your needy clitoral area.

“No matter how much you hide it, you want me.” He rubbed your clit slowly and eventually raised the pace. You tried to hold back your moans, not wanting to show him your desire, but your cunt showed a different story. Soaking wet from his kiss and his touch. You were unaware he was going to fuck you. He heard you finally slip moans out, and he stopped, shaking his head.

He pulled your legs to him out of pure instinct; your legs wrapped around his waist when he picked you up. He pressed you against the wall next to your bed.

“You said you wanted your bed for yourself. So I’ll grant you that wish, beautiful.” With his one hand not holding you, he unzipped his pants. His hard cock coming out was clearly ready to fuck you from your teasing minutes ago. He shoved his cock into your cunt, and immediately grunts could be heard from him. His head is in the nook of your collarbone and neck. Your shock at his entering you made you much tighter.

“Lan~” You moaned, head back to the wall he was pressing you up against. You felt your body bounce on his cock, moving your ass up and down. You grabbed onto his neck tightly, gently scratching at the top part of his back. The pleasure becomes too much. It seemed to be minutes before his cock slammed into your soaking cunt. Your back against the wall clearly gets a slight burn from the bouncing, so you choose to ignore the pain and focus on the pleasure. His mouth gently bit into your collarbone, fucking you faster.

His pace quickened, feeling his cock twitch inside your tight pussy. This position and your pussy made him go feral. You asked for it while playing this game. If you let him fuck you the moment he arrived, you two would have been making love, and right now he is simply fucking you as if you were his. With each thrust, he slowly got to the realization that he desired to fuck you every day, not just any time he was back home. He needed you to be around him all day; he wanted to hear your laugh and be the focus of your teasing.

“Fuck ‘bout to make me cum!” He moaned next to you, pressing you harder against the wall and slamming his cock into your pussy faster than before. You were left moaning, a smile present on your face, holding him tighter than ever. You were clearly winded by him moaning and saying his name loudly. That was until you felt yourself close to climaxing. You moaned out, telling him so, and he smirked, kissing your lips to shut you up. At last, his final thrust came in, and he felt his legs get weak from the feeling. He groaned into the kiss, still thrusting in your spasming pussy cumming from being filled up by him. “Beautiful, how about I stay the night?” He knew what he wanted, and now he wanted you.

596 notes · View notes

ghcstao3 · 1 day

Text

something something civilian AU. something something johnny ends needing an ambulance after breaking his leg and they put him on painkillers that make him woozy and even more bold with his speech than usual.

something something the emt that helps him is tommy, and johnny flirts with him the entire way to the hospital because all he’s thinking beyond the dulling pain in his leg and the floaty feeling of his body is wow, blond. tommy just laughs him off, used to having been flirted with by patients before, only entertaining johnny’s advances to get him to cooperate with their checks. it’s as he’s wheeled off to get proper care that he asks for tommy’s number, to which tommy shakes his head and says sorry, i’m taken, flashing the gold wedding ring now that his gloves have been removed.

johnny frowns at that. goes quiet a long moment. then asks, d’you have a brother then?

tommy snorts but doesn’t dignify johnny with an answer, merely sending him on his way. but johnny clings onto the fact that this emt never said no to his question.

and apparently tommy telling simon the story later is enough to have him intrigued, only half joking when he offers to visit johnny in hospital before he’d likely be discharged the next day—but tommy won’t give up the man’s name because he’s still professional, and besides, johnny likely wouldn’t remember the interaction just a few hours from when he had made it.

but he does, of course. he still wonders if the emt would do him a kindness and send his brother johnny’s way, but it never happens. what does happen, however, is days later at a grocery store, as johnny struggles on his crutches to reach something on a higher shelf, simon ends up helping him as he is coincidentally wandering down that aisle. johnny thanks him, then does a double take, squinting.

aren’t you the emt that brought me to hospital the other day? i asked about your brother, right? he says. i’m really sorry about—

i’m not, simon interrupts. and just as johnny’s face falls, but i do happen to be said brother.

oh. johnny’s eyes go wide. oh!

simon grins, his smile endearingly shy as it is lopsided. yeah. here, i’ll help you out. in the meantime you can repeat everything you told my brother.

johnny goes bright red, initially sputtering out his responses, not at all confident like he was while on painkillers. but by the end of the shopping trip, as simon helps load bags into johnny’s car (he’d been so lucky to break his non-driving leg), his flirting has returned full swing, this time with simon’s reciprocation. of course, they plan for a first date.

(and years down the line, much to johnny’s chagrin, tommy already has his best man speech fully prepared with the story that started it all.)

#silly idea today for u guys #simon ghost riley #tommy riley #john soap mactavish #soapghost #ghostsoap #ghost x soap #ghoap #alternate universe

420 notes · View notes

lynnielovestlou · 2 days

Text

ellie fucking you in the middle of the night <3

cw: smut , nsfw , men dni , strap usage , reader sits on ellie's face , dom! ellie , sub! reader , kinda vanilla , reader and ellie's relationship is a secret , y/n used (im sorry) , sitting on ellie's face

masterlist

daily click

☆⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

the problem is, you dont want to keep things casual. you said it because it felt like a thing you should say when you start fucking your best friend. now, you're lying in bed wearing ellie's shirt, wishing shed sneak down the stairs and crawl in with you.

you try to talk yourself out of it so many times. you'd already almost got caught once. but your body doesn't care and neither does your heart. you want her hands in your hair, her warm skin against your own.

which is why you creep through a dark house and up the stairs, keeping to the edges to avoid any creaking that might wake up joel. one peek into his room at the top of the stairs and you see him sprawled like a starfish. your lips curve up at the sight and then you very, very gently shut his bedroom door before padding down to the secondary bedroom as the opposite end of the hallway.

the door is closed and no light shines from beneath. you twist the handle and walk right in. her curtains are open and ambient light from outside filters in through the massive windows. the door clicks shut behind you and you walk across to the king-sized bed. much like joel, she is all long, muscular limbs stretched out in the middle.

unlike joel, you don't turn away.

you press one knee onto the mattress and crawl in her direction. ellie's breaths are deep, and the entire bed has a faint sandalwood smell. you think you'd settle for just lying here beside her, breathing her in.

instead, you kneel at her side. soaking her in, so relaxed. she looks younger—more carefree—like this.

with one hand, you trail the tip of your fingers over her lips—just like you did every time joel had his back on the two of you. a simple gesture, just to remind her you were there, even if it was for a moment.

ellie's big strong hand flies up, steely fingers wrapping around your wrist, "y/n."

it's not a question. she knows it's you.

"hi."

"what are you doing?" she asks from behind closed eyes.

"touching you."

her lips curve up into a sinful smile, "i thought you wanted to keep things casual in front of joel."

"right." you whisper, "it's just that i thought about it and decided being casual is overrated. i want you to touch me too."

a raspy chuckle spills from her as her green eyes open and dive into your own. chills erupt from the back of your neck, racing down your spine and over your arms.

"so, what now?" she asks beneath a quirked brow.

"i don't know." you suddenly feel nervous. you snuck up there with no plan, only knowing you wanted to be close to her, "do you want me to leave?"

she stares at you extra hard now. it's borderline unnerving. the weight of her stare. the way your stomach flip-flops under her attention. you've never felt this way before.

"no, y/n. i want you up here." her voice is soft and deep as she reaches for you. broad hands circle your waist and you squeal as she hauls you on to her, so you're straddling her torso.

"gonna need you to be quiet, baby." she murmurs as her palms slide up over your quads, tips of her fingers dipping inside your underwear at your hips.

all you can do is nod, lick your lips, and watch how good her hands look roaming over your body.

"n-now what?" you practically stutter.

"now you're going to hold on tight to that headboard, sit on my face, and try to keep your mouth shut while i make you come."

before you can respond, she's moved you up, yanked the gusset of you panties to the side, and has her tongue in your pussy.

you gasp and fall forward, holding the headboard like she instructed, more out of needing something to hold on to than because you're good at following directions.

your head falls back when her teeth graze you clit. she palms your ass and holds you close, like she's eating her favorite fruit. her eagerness does nothing but drive you even more wild.

"hmmm," you hum, trying to cover for the string of expletives currently sitting on the tip of your tongue. your thighs shake with the strain of holding yourself over her and fingers dig in hard.

ellie pulls away, only to grumble at you in that deep tone. "baby, i said be quiet. and stop being polite. i told you to sit on my face." the hand gripping your underwear yanks you down hard so that you're fully seated.

she sucks your clit and your body bows into him. her hand slides up from your ass, over your hip, stomach, and up to your breast, where she gently caresses you. she holds you. touches you.

she gives your nipple a good, firm twist that has you gasping and grinding against her mouth. all the response you get is a satisfied growl against your core as she continues to lick, and suck, and tease.

you ride her shamelessly. she told you to stop being polite, and so you do. you lose yourself in the sensation, the feel of her skin on yours. the smell of her wrapped around you.

there's something empowering in asking for what you want. to be touched when you want. and you're drunk on that—drunk on her—when everything inside you clenches. when that pressure builds so quickly, so intensely, you can't hold back... you shatter.

you feel like you blew apart into a million little pieces. your skin is hot, your eyelids feel heavy. and as much as you try to stay quiet, you can't.

her hand shoots up over your mouth and you slump into it, using her arm to prop yourself up while you cling to the headboard.

"ellie," you whisper as she moves you down. her limbs are moving and there's fabric rustling around you, but you're too incoherent to keep up, "ellie."

"y/n, baby. i told you to stay quiet."

your brain is too addled to care. "more." you fold yourself over her, dropping your head into the crook of her neck and kissing her there. your teeth graze over the lobe of her ear, and you realize she's removed her boxers while you blacked out. and, she had put on her strap that she conveniently kept in her nightstand.

"more?"

you nod, feeling her throat move against your forehead as he swallows. "more."

her hands move firmly, all business, as she removes your underwear. then she sits up, leaning against the headboard and taking you with her.

you can feel her hard length propped against your ass as she positions the two of you.

her eyes stay on your face as she reaches down to grip the hem of her shirt. the one she gave you to sleep in when she walked you to the guest room door and told you it might help you miss her less. right before she smirked that annoying, i'm-right-and-you-know-it smirk of hers.

she wasn't, though. which is why you're here.

your body coils with anticipation again as ellie's gaze rakes over your bare skin.

her hands roam slowly yet purposefully. over your arms, your collarbones. reading you like braille. you think she's always been able to, and you just didn't know it.

"i'm not sure you can handle more, baby." she kisses your chest as your hands move in tandem, feeling her in a way you didn't get to earlier. "you're not very good at keeping quiet."

"i'll be good," you murmur, grinding your pussy back on her and feeling her steely silicon dick twitch against your ass.

suddenly her lips are on your nipples and your hands are raking through her hair. she reaches between the two of you, urging you up onto your knees, you move obediently, and in return, you're rewarded by the sensation of her faux cock sliding against your pussy.

back and forth. back and forth. your eyes flutter shuts she tortures you. one hand grips your shoulder while the other is fisted around her length. you swivel your hips, feeling her crown notch inside you.

"goddamn, honey. you're even better than i fucking dreamed," she mutters roughly. then she shoves herself in, and you bite your lip to keep yourself quiet. because no one and nothing has ever felt this good.

your eyes snap open as your body adjusts. the light sight of her taking you so roughly has the blood thrumming through your veins at a rapid pace. your heart pounding even harder than before.

you stare at each other. her cock is buried deep inside you his.

"move, y/n. show me how bad you want it."

your pelvis undulates because you do want it. you lift and you drop back down, feeling every thick inch of her as you do. reveling in the way her eyes widen before taking on a more hooded appearance.

what starts off slow and deliberate comes apart at the seams. hands that were searching are now gripping.

breathing that was even is now choppy. everything is hot and damp as you writhe together in silence.

you don't need words. they wouldn't do justice to something that feels like this anyway.

"you're gonna come on my cock now, aren't you, baby?" she growls roughly, breathlessly, against your ear. your body shudders in response. "i can tell. your eyes give it away, even in the dark. then every muscle on you goes all tight. you ride me so damn hard. so eager. so warm. so fucking tight."

you're so full of her. her words. her body. it's too much, and right when youre about to go barreling over that edge again, she kisses you soundly, swallowing the sound of you screaming her name as you come.

with a fist full of your hair, she pumps into you hard.

spilling herself, filling you up thoroughly right as your orgasm rocks you. flays you. leaves you slumped in her arms, desperately trying to catch your breath.

you don't know how long the two of you stay like that. you straddling her lap, her cock snugly inside you, clinging to each other and kissing. slow, languid, deliberate kisses that make your throat ache with their tenderness. eventually they slow and ellie tolls you off her carefully.

always carefully. even when she's rough with you, shes so damn intentional. you feel nothing short of pampered with her. and when she gets up to retrieve a warm washcloth, the point is only driven further home.

"what are you doing?" you breathe the words, trying to stay quiet as she comes to kneel between your splayed legs.

"taking care of you."

the warm cloth swipes over your swollen core and you let out a soft moan. "you don't need to do that."

she continues wiping you gently. "but i want to."

you're struck silent by such a simple sentence.

you lie in ellie's bed, letting her take care of you. and when she's finished, she lifts the covers, crawls in behind you, and holds your body against hers all night long.

406 notes · View notes

wileys-russo · 17 hours

Note

found out today that mary is a junior black belt in judo.. fic request where she insists she can protect you (cocky af) and does show up when needed (you can think of a situation) but later there's something dumb like a spider and mary freaks out.

reader takes the mick out of her and her black belt status.

itsy bitsy spider II m.earps

"only me darling!" you looked up from the stir fry you were almost finished as keys jingled and the door popped open, the thud of your girlfriends bag hitting the wall followed by a quiet string of swear words making you smile and shake your head.

"you know babe the wall doesn't move, its still there every single time you come home and bump into it." you teased, glancing at her with a smile over your shoulder as she joined you in the kitchen.

"and do you know love that your jokes still aren't funny, every single time you tell them." mary teased back, pecking your lips sweetly and tapping at your ass with a wink as you smacked her across the back of the head with the spatula in your hand.

"ow! baby." mary gasped in shock, rubbing at her head with wide eyes. "reflexes like a cat earps, hands off the merchandise unless you're invited to touch." you winked, flicking off the stovetop and moving the wok off the heat.

"how was judo?" you questioned, hearing her rummage through the fridge before it closed with a gentle thump and you heard the sound of her chugging water.

"good! i'm bloody exhausted though, they paired me up with the new trainer for sparring and he did not go easy." mary exhaled as she finished the entire bottle of water.

"you are actually a mad woman mary. do you know any other professional footballers who choose to do another sport with a load of intense training alongside football?" you tutted, never having been overly fond of the girls favourite pastime.

but you knew judo made her happy and acted as a form of self care and stress relief for the keeper, though not one you ever pretended to understand or enjoy forever worried she'd hurt herself.

"no, which is why i know i'd beat them all in a fight." your girlfriend grinned cockily with a wink making you roll your eyes as you dished up. "here, refuel karate kid." you handed her a bowl as she kissed your cheek appreciatively.

"karate is very different from judo its-" though at your raised eyebrow your girlfriend stopped her little rant. "have i told you i love you?" she smiled charmingly instead as you hummed. "mm not in the last five minutes you've been home, better pick your act up." you sat down and looked to her expectantly.

"mary!" you scoffed when she remained silent, kicking at her as she sat beside you on the lounge and sent you a cheeky smile knowing exactly how to wind you up.

"come here stroppy." you hurried to place your bowl down beside hers on the coffee table as she grabbed at you, pulling you to sit on top of her.

"i love you i love you i love you i love you-" she repeated over and over as she showered your face with kisses, your scowl melting easily into a lovesick smile. "better?" mary beamed, kissing you properly with a loud mwah and a wiggle of her eyebrows making you laugh.

"yes. now shut up and eat your dinner."

"baby come to bed, please! i'm tired and i want a cuddle." you groaned halfheartedly, unable to hold back your laugh as mary insisted on showing you a new move she learned today she'd spent a while perfecting.

"look babe i promise this is much more impressive when there's an actual person being flipped and not just my verbal description. promise! consider me your personal security guard, i can always protect you." mary assured as you shook your head.

"mary my love for the hundredth time i believe you, in fact i have never questioned that. now come to bed!" you laughed and made grabby hands which of course were ignored. "oh i know! you can help me demo, then you'll really understand." mary perked up as your eyes widened.

"absolutely not. mary-mary!" you squealed as before you could blink you were yanked from the warm safe cocoon of your duvet and your feet hit the carpeted floor of your bedroom.

"right. so as i was saying-" you continued to protest and it continued to fall on deaf ears as she just talked over you, walking you through the move as she grabbed your hands and swiftly turned you around.

"-and then you drop the shoulder, twist the wrist and flip!" you grunted as suddenly you were upside down momentarily before your back hit the mattress and you blinked in shock.

"see! way more impressive." your girlfriends cheshire like grin appeared above you as she jumped on top of you, legs either side of your hips. "do not manhandle me like that again i am not a crash test dummy!" you warned, pushing at her shoulders and flipping your positions.

"thought you didn't mind being tossed around baby." mary smirked, hands on your hips and pulling you down properly on top of her. "don't distract me with sexy talk earps. i. am. not. your. judo. partner!" you smacked her repeatedly with a pillow as she held her hands up to try and shield herself.

"i know...you're much better looking." "mary!"

you awoke several hours later to a scream, bolting upright in bed and clutching at empty sheets where your girlfriend had once been soundly asleep beside you, heart racing at her absence.

scrambling to your feet and cursing under your breath you looked around for a weapon, grabbing the first thing you could which was the bedside lamp, yanking the chord from the wall as you took a shaky breath.

but hearing mary yell out your name again you frowned, all but kicking open the bedroom door and brandishing the lamp around, swinging it as if to hit an invisible attacker with every step until finally you rounded the corner into the kitchen.

"what happened? whose hurt? was there a break in? do they have a weapon? did they steal anything?" you started to fire off question after question, alarmed greatly by the way the taller girls face was white as a sheet and she shook like a leaf, clearly panicking.

"kill it!" was all mary barked out shaking her head as you frowned. "kill who? all i've got is a lamp!" your own head darted around anxiously, taking in the seemingly empty house around you. "that! chuck the flaming lamp at it then we can get a new one!" mary demanded as you stepped closer and followed her outstretched finger.

"mary alexandra earps." you started slowly, placing the lamp down on the counter slowly. "please do not tell me you just woke me up screaming the house down at 3:42am...for that." you deadpanned, hands on hips and glaring her right in the face.

"baby less talking. more smacking or stabbing or burning or swatting-just kill it!" mary ordered again, backing away even further until she hit the counter behind her.

"mary. i thought we were being robbed!" you snapped, exhaling and rubbing your temples with your fingers, your half awake pre panicked state causing a headache to come on. "well he's hardly on the lease is he!" mary snapped back with a huff.

the 'he' in general was an itsy bitsy black spider, barely the size of a two pound coin, huddled just above the top of the fridge minding his own business.

"jesus christ mary you're literally a black belt in judo and you can't kill a tiny weeny spider?" you mocked sarcastically, rolling your eyes and turning to rummage around beneath the sink for the fly swatter.

"it's huge! and hurry, and its got those evil beady little eyes that are just following me around and-" you tuned your girlfriend out at that point, grabbing the fly swatter and within seconds all that was left was a small black smear which you promptly on your tippy toes wiped with a tissue and dumped in the bin.

"well now that seemed a bit harsh, you could have relocated it babe." mary chimed in, though at the very slow way you turned to face her, bags under your eyes which were narrowed into a murderous glare she paled once more.

"sorry, thank you darling. i love you, so so so so much!" mary tried again with a smile as you only hummed, flicking off the kitchen light engulfing her into darkness and stomping back off to the bedroom.

when mary joined you a few minutes later your face was illuminated by the soft glow of your phone screen. "what are you doing?" your girlfriend asked gently, rounding the bed to her side, still cautious of how you might be upset with her.

"opening all my online dating profiles back up, but adding in my bio that you need to be able to kill bugs to date me." you replied nonchalantly, the goalkeeper shooting up bolt straight beside you. "you're what!?" she asked in disbelief, scoffing as words failed to come to her making you chuckle with a small smile.

"not really, idiot." you nudged her as she sighed deeply with relief, laying back down in bed and knowing she deserved that after the wake up call.

"what are you really doing?" she asked curiously, head rolling onto your pillow as she squinted at your screen you made no move to hide from her.

"editing your wikipedia page to say you're a black belt in judo whose terrified of itsy bitsy tiny little spiders." you replied honestly this time, mary humming with a nod as she settled back into bed, eyes closing momentarily before they slammed open again.

"oh well thats a relief i thought that-wait you're what!?"

#woso community #woso #woso x reader #mary earps x reader #mary earps #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs

393 notes · View notes

collapsingneutron · 2 days

Text

Am I the only one who is deeply reminded of Tim Drake every time they see a John Mulaney comedy special?

If John Mulaney was 15 and looked 13, he'd be the prime actor to cast as Tim Drake. Because he has this cynical but boyish charm like he's a 50s professor trapped in a modern boy's body and very self-aware about it. He's seen some shit and done some shit, but he manages to look very put-together.

Here are some actual quotes from John's comedy specials that Tim Drake would totally say if he was writing his autobiography:

On Bruce Wayne:

Tim: Kids, you think your dad’s weird now? Wait for his dad to die. Then he goes on a whole quest.

He’ll wanna take more family pictures, but be angrier during them. “Can we get one photo where we all look nice?”

We’re like, “I don’t think this motherfucker’s doing that well.”

Tim: My dad never hit us. My dad is a lawyer and he was a debate team champion. So he would pick us apart psychologically.

Tim: He was a man most acquainted with misery. He could look at a child and guess the price of their coffin.

Tim: He didn’t want us to not get kidnapped. He wanted us to almost get kidnapped and then fight the guy off using weird, psych-out, back-room Chicago violence.

On being Robins:

Tim: This was always a very dramatic process – ’cause we were thirteen, we looked nine.

Tim: God, I guess they’re finally going to kill us all. All right. This is younger than I thought I would be but we are pretty big assholes.

Tim: I thought I was going to be murdered my entire childhood. In high school people were like, “What are your top three colleges?”

I was like, “Top three colleges? I thought I would be dead in a trunk with my hand hanging out of the taillight by now.”

On being 'the smartest Robin':

Tim: I don’t know what my body is for other than just taking my head from room to room.

Tim, to Bart: Here’s my plan, you and me get very dressed up, including hats, and then we wave handkerchiefs at it until it disappears over the horizon.

On being Red Robin:

Tim: I was hoping, uh, by now that I would look older but that didn’t happen.

I don’t look older, I just look worse, I think. Honestly, when I’m walking down the street, no one’s ever like, “Hey, look at that man!” I think they’re just like “Whoa! That tall child looks terrible! Get some rest, tall child! You can’t keep burning the candle at both ends!”

On Gotham:

Tim: What a historic and beautiful and deeply haunted building this is. I keep walking through cold spots being like, “I wonder who that used to be.”

Tim: I was coming into my apartment building one night and I saw in front of my building a wheel chair, knocked in its side with no one in it. That’s a bad thing to see. Something happened there… you hope it was a miracle… but probably not… probably something worse.

On staying calm while Gotham is on fire:

Tim: I try to stay a little optimistic, even though I will admit, things are getting pretty sticky.

Tim: I’ll just keep all my emotions right here [points to heart] and then one day, I’ll die.

Tim: And by the way, part of me was like: “Whatever"… you know? You ever have those days where you’re like: “This might as well happen."

On Gotham Rogues:

Tim: He did not look like his job description. He looked like he should be the conductor on a locomotive powered by confetti. But, instead, he made his living in murder.

On the fracturing of the Batfamily amidst Bruce's supposed death and Tim's search for him:

Tim: It was an intervention. For me. Interventions for me, are my least favorite kind of intervention.

Tim [searching for Bruce while Dick is Batman and Damian is his Robin]:

I, meanwhile, was loose in New York City, not doing well.

On his time with the League of Assassins and Ra's Al-Ghul's interest

Tim: Now, we don’t have time to unpack all of that.

Tim: You’re all uncomfortable now, but I’m way over it.

On college:

Tim: I went to college. For the whole time. Holy shit, right? I just got a letter from my college, which was fun ’cause mail, you know?

And they said… How did they phrase it? They said, “Give us some money!

“As a gift! We want a gift! But only if it’s money.” I found this peculiar.

I went to college, I was 18 years old, I looked like I was 11. I lived like a goddamn Ninja Turtle. I didn’t drink water the entire time.

Tim, at his first frat party: People were drinking like it was the civil war and a doctor was coming to saw our legs off.

Miscellaneous:

Tim, in an argument with Steph: That wasn’t what I was telling you, but alright, lets talk about this entirely new topic.

Tim, when asked if he's been up since yesterday: And I was like: “No” you know, like a liar.

Tim: I went into the room to get the massage and the woman there told me to undress to my comfort level. So I put on a sweater and a pair of corduroy pants, and I felt safe.

Tim: Those were the choices — salad or fries, the two most different foods in the universe. That’s like saying, “What kinda day do you wanna have? Do you wanna be active and go to the bathroom and stuff, or do you wanna lay on the floor moaning?”

Tim, talking to Kon at 5AM: It was really easy to get away with murder before they knew about DNA. It was ridiculously easy. Like, what was even going on back then? What was a murder investigation like in 1935??

One cop would just walk in and be like, [speaks sharply with an old-timey accent] “Detective! We found a pool of the killer’s blood in that hallway!”

And he would just be like [low voice] “Hmmm… gross! Mop it up. Now then, back to my hunch… [holds chin with hand and looks around the floor] Hmmmmmm…. Look for clues. [stands up straight] I’ll tell you what we’ll do! We’ll draw chalk around the body. That way, [narrows eyes and looks side to side and speaks with a suspicious tone] we’ll know where it was…”

Tim, showing up to brunch at Denny's: Hope you don’t mind that I dressed up. It was my first communion today so I decided to come right from it.

Tim: I was sitting up in bed a few weeks ago like… [groans] You know, life.

Tim: How did they find out about the inside zipper pocket? That pocket has eluded everyone in my life.

392 notes · View notes

dcxdpdabbles · 22 hours

Note

Hurray 🎉 more asks!!

First off love-love your writing!

I'm not sure if you were the writer or if you've read the snippet. But there was one that I read where Captain Marvel gets de-aged into a child, a speaks an unrecognizable language child (like he was an actual adult not a kid pretending to be an adult). Everything is mostly fine until he asks for his parents and nobody knows who they are. Kid Marvel screams and a giant hole tears open and I assume the JL meets the Everlasting Trio.

I would love to see how you would continue something like this or write something of this nature.

Ironically, the champion of Magic was turned into a child with magic. It was one of those things that he was sure would be funny in a few years but not in the moment. Initially, Bruce had been horrified to see his teammate fall like that from the sky, his form shifting and changing into what could pass as a five-year-old right before his eyes.

The spell caster had unfortunately gotten away with a convenient portal, and they were left scrambling to catch Captain Marvel. There was also the issue of all the civilians that were displaced due to his rampage through the city of Fawcett City.

Bruce quickly worked to have Wayne Enterprise start funding the relief program for them, but it would take time, which was not something they had. He left it to Superman, Flash, and Wonder Woman to get everyone sorted—the three were the best at working with scared civilians.

In the meantime, he Zeta-beamed himself, and the small child Marvel had become up to the watch tower. The boy had been unconscious the entire time, which worried Bruce. After a few tests and scans with the medical staff, as well as his own studies, it was decided that besides being de-aged, there was nothing physically wrong with Marvel.

They would just have to wait till the Champian woke himself.

Bruce wondered how he would take his new form. In all the research he had done on Marvel and the legends of the Wizard, the champion had never been depicted as a child. He had assumed this was due to the champion repeating in various forms- sometimes female, sometimes male- but never as a child.

If anything, Bruce had discovered that they were always at peak physical age, usually from twenty-two to thirty-five. He had assumed this meant the reincarnation or the selection for the champion was just made that way.

How foolish to think they were never children that grew to that age before proclaiming themselves as Captain Marvel.

"Where am I?" a child's voice called, surprising Bruce from his files on Captain Marvel. Twisting around, he finds himself staring into the doe-blue eyes of Captain Marvel.

For a moment, he is reminded of his various children with similar coloring, and it pulls on Bruce's heartstrings to see the distress on that little face. He raises his hands, making sure his voice is softer than his usual growl. Bruce became the vengeance, so every child should feel safe with him after all.

"You're safe here." He reassures, watching the boy's face twist. He steps closer, portraying comfort but not reaching out to touch. "Do you recognize me?"

"Are you a ghost?" The boy's voice is low, slightly fearful. There is no hint of recognition in his posture, expression, or voice. Bruce bites back a swear.

So much for that hope. Still, his teammate needs him. "No, my name is Batman. A few hours ago, we were, in fact, together against a magic user. You were hit and turned into a child. Does any of this sound familiar?"

The boy grips his blanket, bringing it up to his chin, and stares at Bruce with growing distress. He shakes his head just as tears start to swell in his eyes. It's not good at all. "Where are my parents? I want to go home."

He filed that away, wondering if there were any parents to contact for Captain Marvel. He's been around for hundreds of years. If he had been selected as a human, the myths implied, then his parents would have likely been long gone.

Bruce wonders if there is any way he can conceive Captain Marvel coming to live in the Wayne manor until he is turned back. He could leave him to live in the Watch Tower, but he hates the idea of it just as he thinks it.

His face crumbles as Bruce tells him honestly, "I'm not sure where your parents are, chum."

Captain Marvel's tears fall to the bed as he curls up. Bruce reaches out to give him a hug, trying to comfort the distressed child. He is just about to assure him he is safe again, and Batman will help him when the child lets out an ear-piercing scream.

It's high pitch enough that Bruce can't tell if the ringing he hears is from the sound or if it's only in his ears. He opens his mouth to ask when a portal—unlike the one the magic user had cast—rips open in the room.

Out steps a man with snow-white hair. On instinct, Bruce gathers Marvel in his arms, flinging them to the corner and throwing a Batarang at the intruder. He shields the boy behind him, pushing him toward the wall and growling at the man.

His batarang is shot out of the air with some kind of green ray, as the man's eyes narrow.

A sound escapes the man. The structure and expression of the man indicate that it's obviously a language, but Bruce doesn't recognize it. He can tell that the man is angry, though, and that's not something he wants anywhere near Captain Marvel in his current state.

"Who are you!?" He demanded, raising more weapons. "How did you get in!?"

Oddly, Captain Marvel speaks, his words similar to the language the others use, and the white-haired man's face softens.

"You have my son," The man says in perfect English. Bruce raises a brow.

"Do you know him?" He whispers to the wiggling child.

"Yeah, that's one of my dads." The boy whispers back, sounding a lot calmer now that his apparent father is around. Bruce cautiously steps away, watching Marvel run straight into the arms of the stranger.

The man meets him halfway with a loud, excited chirp and purr, bringing the boy into his arms and squeezing him into a tight hug. Bruce watches every hint of body language, concluding he is not lying about being the boy's father.

"I'm sorry about the scare. It's been a long time since Billy used his distress call. I got a little worried." After a few minutes of chirps and purrs exchanged between parents and child, the man says. He raises his head to stare at Bruce with a regal air.

An aristocrat. Bruce's mind whispers, wondering where this noble hails form. Nowhere on earth with his glow or bright eyes. Was Captain Marvel half-human? "It's alright."

"I'm Danny Phantom," Danny tells him, flouting over with an outstretched hand that is not holding his son up. "It's an honor to meet you."

Bruce returns the handshake, keeping his voice and tone even. "Batman."

But inwardly, he swears up a storm. He knows that name and recognizes the legends and myths. Danny Phantom, the Ghost King, ruler of the connecting dimension of the muli-verse. It was one of the first beings he had encountered in his in-depth religious and culture studies, having seen the Ghost King be depicted throughout history even when he was lost in it.

One of the strongest beings to ever exist. Alongside, his wife and husband, who each ruled their own powerful area on the mortal plane- The Green that Posoisin Ivy and Swamp Thing gain their powers were said to be Samatha, the wife of the ghost King.

The meta gene—identified by the scientific community in recent years but proved to exist long before the first ancient Egyptians—was said to be a blessing from Tucker, the Husband of the ghost King. He was the one who appointed the first pharaohs, destroying the meta gene through their bloodline.

And Captain Marvel was their child.

No wonder the man was the champion of Magic. Who else was more qualified than the Heir to the Ghost King?

"It seems like a simple curse. It should reverse on its own," King Phantom comments while continuously turning his child this way and that, making the boy giggle. "It will wear off in only ten years."

Bruce wondered if he knew that was a very long time for humans. But what was a decade to a god?

"Batman was it?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Call me Danny. I was thinking, since Billy will be stuck like this for ten years, maybe my family should go on vacation while he recovers." Bruce does not like the sound of this, but he can't deny the king's action as a bright light overcomes the glowing figure, and a regular-looking human is left in its wake.

"I'll call my husband and wife. Do you know if any properties are for sale in your neighborhood? I want Billy to be close to his work friends."

Bruce was right. He did not like this one bit. Should he risk war with the Infinite Realms to keep them out of Gotham? The answer was no, unfortunately, and he could try to push the family to move to Metropolis so they can be Clark's problem, but he knows that lying to higher beings is never a smart thing.

He sighs, tapping his wrist computer. "I know a realtor."

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #Billy's Parents #Part 1 #Everlasting trio move to Gotham #Tucker is the god of the metas since he bestows powers onto people #Form all the times he was possessed and gain powers himself #Billy was made from all three dna but he looks the most like Danny #The trio have forgotten what being human is like #Bruce is tired man

209 notes · View notes

monstersflashlight · 2 days

Note

Hi, girlyyy! Could you do a male monster x male reader nsfw? For example: the monster, in a mating cycle and in dire need to mate, thought Reader was a female and thought he'd be perfect to bear his offspring, not knowing that Reader was a male the entire time. Could be any monster of your choice(though, while I was writing this, I was thinking of some sea creature so you could roll with that too, I'm fine with both.)

Hi anon! I hope you like this. You can also find more m/m stories here, here and here. Enjoy! :)

Feral creature

Werewolf x male!reader || Breeding, lowkey CNC, knotting

Running through the woods seemed like a great idea. Fantastic idea. You were tired of the gym’s treadmill and some fresh air sounded like a dream. So you decided to drive to the forest nearby and go running for a couple hours. Touch grass and all that stuff. Great idea. Yeah… Great.

You worked up a sweat, to the point that you thought an animal ten miles away could smell you, you felt a bit disgusting thinking about it. But it was nice, so you kept running. At some point you should have taken the wrong turn, because when you decided to go back, you couldn’t find the damn path you came from. So you tried not to panic and simply started walking, the forest in that area wasn’t too big, you would get out sooner or later. And it was still early in the day.

You walked. And walked. When they sun high in the sky and you felt like you were burning you heard the first stick breaking. You turned around, your heartbeat going crazy with fear. But it was just a rabbit. Just a tiny creature of the forest. But the next thing you heard wasn’t a tiny creature. The howl in the distance sounded like a big thing, like something was coming right to you. And fast.

You decided it was better to hide, but got scared and started to run. You weren’t the best at good ideas, that was more than clear at that point.

Then it hit you. A big creature jumped from behind you and a low growl sounded when he landed over you. The creature started to smell you all over, big claws running up and down your body, inspecting you. You were about to scream when you felt a big thing pressed against your ass. Big. Really big. You struggled under his weight, but the creature held you pinned down, his weight enough to avoid you escaping.

His dick, or what you expected was a dick but felt like half a baseball bat against your ass, was rutting against your ass like his life depended on it. And you… you felt arousal pooling in your abdomen as your dick got hard. What the fuck was wrong with you? Against any better judgment, you pushed your ass back against him, rubbing his dick.

Not two seconds later, you were naked. The creature tore your clothes apart and growled against your ear: “Need to breed you.”

You tried to ask what did he mean, if he even knew he couldn’t breed you, but your explanation didn’t get out. You felt the tip of his dick against your asshole. He was so wet you could feel his precome against your rim, making you wet, and dripping down your crack, pooling against your balls and making you whimper. There was no way that was going to fit without prep. There was no way.

You tried to pull away, but the creature growled again and held you tighter, the tip of his dick breaching your hole and making you scream. He pushed you down hard, his body covering yours, his hips pushing, not asking for entrance, but forcing himself in. You wanted to cry out, but what came out was a moan. You didn’t understand what was happening with your body, but the liquid you felt against your hole was making it easier. You could feel the pain of his dick breaking into your hole, but not nearly as much as you should if he wasn’t using lube. You guessed magical creature precum was in order. It stung, it was a bit painful, but sooo good.

“Take all of me, like a good little slut. Take it.” The creature was mindless behind you, pushing his massive dick inside your hole.

He didn’t go too far in at first, just the tip, which already felt too big inside of you. Stretching you in the best possible way but also impossibly wide. He pulled back just to see your hole twitching, gaping, you might be confused, but your body knew what it wanted. Your body wanted his dick buried inside completely. He pulled back in, a few more centimeters at the time. Back and forth, pushing some of his magic precum in you and getting deeper. And deeper. And deeper.

Every time he went in, he fed your hungry hole a little bit more of his cock. When he finally bottomed out you were mindless with pleasure. His dick was so big that every movement he made hit your prostate and made you cry out. You were oversensitive already, the attack to your senses so big you couldn’t do anything but babble and drool over the forest floor.

And then he started fucking you for real. His thrusts so fast and so hard you couldn’t try to push back, he was moving your body like you were a toy for his cock, and you were enjoying it. You were enjoying it so much you felt embarrassed about it. Fuck. His dick was hitting everything inside of you, he was pounding on your ass so hard and so deep… It was almost like he wanted to rearrange your guts. And you loved it.

He growled again: “I’m gonna breed you. Pump you full of my seed.” His pace was restless, feral.

“You- You can’t. I’m not a woman.” You let out in between thrusts, your voice strangled because of the force of his fucking. You were so close.

He didn’t care about your words, he kept fucking you restlessly as he growled: “I will breed you, human.” You tried to argue with him but your voice broke with a needy sound when he changed the angle of your hips and hit your prostate just right. You screamed. But he didn’t stop there: “Your human cunt is so tight.” You felt your blood rushing to your cheeks, embarrassment filling you as much as he was.

But instead of arguing, you muttered a whimpery: “Please…” That word was the only one you could muster at that point, too far gone in the pleasure.

Your whole body felt on fire, the stretch in your ass felt amazing, pain and pleasure mixing until you were crying out. A chant of please, please, please... leaving your mouth. It felt better than good. It was heaven on earth. Or maybe you ascended. Death by dicking. You’d be okay with that. If raw fucking with a feral creature in the woods was the last thing you did, you’d be okay with that. You’d die happy.

The creature kept going for what felt like hours, maybe just a dozen of minutes, you didn’t understand time anymore. You could only comprehend the cadence of his thrusts, the feeling of his cock hitting your prostate, his teeth close to your neck… He didn’t touch your cock at all, just fucked you senseless without caring about you or your pleasure. He just wanted to breed you. To fill you with his cum. It was the best torture. And you… You were pliant under his claws.

Something happened then, he grabbed your hips and pushed them flushed against his. His dick so deep you could cry in ecstasy… And then you felt his knot. It expanded around your rim as he howled, holding your body as he started to come inside of you, filling you to the brim. And keep coming. The knot hit your prostate right in, making you scream until your voice gave out and your dick started convulsing under you. Rope after rope of come hit the forest floor as the creature behind you emptied himself inside your quivering hole. And he didn’t stop. The over-stimulation made tears run down your face, but he didn’t stop grinding his knot against your prostate, too much, too much, too much... You passed out.

When you came back to your senses you were alone, your car a couple meters away. Did you imagine it? Was it all in your head? Did you get a heatstroke and ran naked through the woods? You reached around you looking for evidence. Your hole was tender and puffy, gaping and empty, dripping such amount of seed that you felt like he could be right...

Maybe he did breed you.

#monster #monster fucker #monster imagine #monster x human #teratophillia #monster x reader #terato #request #werewolf #werewolf x human #werewolf x reader #male!reader

241 notes · View notes

mingyuscoffee · 21 hours

Text

ten reasons to avoid italy

pairing kim mingyu x fem! reader genre fluff | 11.5k words | exes to lovers summary when your ex joins you and your friends on a week long vacation to cancun, you have no choice but to avoid and make the best of it… so how is he always next to you? warnings mentions of alcohol consumption, fear of heights, flashbacks, being seasick, taking pills for medicine (seasickness), eating seafood, and floating away in the ocean (not far). use of y/n and seventeen member's korean names. also jeonghan and seungcheol being parents.

HEAVILY INSPIRED by the nana tour with seventeen show. please watch if you haven't, it's so fun. IF YOU HAVE WATCHED, there are many inside jokes and scenes from the show that are in this writing, so hope you can pick it out!

P.S. i included seungcheol to join the trip!

italics are flashbacks! this is not proofread, please don't mind any mistakes.

The Korean barbecue restaurant was filled with the delicious scent of grilled meat and spices. With you were Seungkwan, Seokmin, and Soonyoung for dinner in honor of Seokmin's birthday.

“Speaking of,” Soonyoung pours you a shot of soju from across the table, his face red from the alcohol, “We’re going to Italy with the other members in the summer if you want to join?”

Seungkwan and Seokmin study your face silently, anticipating your reaction. They knew mentioning a group vacation was a delicate subject.

“Won’t Mingyu be there?” You drink the shot of alcohol before continuing, “I don’t think I’m ready to see him yet.”

You had met all of SEVENTEEN through Seungkwan, your long-time family friend, and had grown close with every member. Your relationship with Mingyu blossomed from this friendship, leading to three years of dating.

Mingyu was the love of your life, but soon it became increasingly difficult to see him due to his hectic comebacks and schedules. He stopped putting effort into the relationship first, so after two weeks of fighting every night and both of you being too stubborn to apologize first, feelings were hurt, and eventually, he broke up with you.

You were heartbroken, crying for a month, and since then, you hadn't been attending the monthly group dinners or events, trying to give yourself space to heal. However, after Seungkwan spent more time with Seokmin and Soonyoung for their BSS group, the four of you started hanging out.

The three never talked about Mingyu in front of you, that was, until now.

Seokmin nudges your side, his expression playful as he tries to lift the mood. “Everyone but him. He's not available to come because he's going to Paris for a fashion show.”

Seungkwan shakes his head, focusing on the grill. "We'll get busy after summer for our comeback preparations."

You sigh, looking at the hopeful faces of your friends. You know what Seungkwan is doing; you definitely wouldn’t want to pass up a chance to relax and have fun with all your close friends, especially if it would get hard to see their faces.

Soonyoung tilts his head with a smile, his eyes twinkling with excitement. “Come on, it’s also our first time in Europe! We have to experience that together,” he says, his voice filled with anticipation.

Seungkwan finally looks up, his expression softening. “And Jeonghan is planning the entire trip so there's no need to worry,” he reassures, his gaze meeting yours with warmth.

You let out a reluctant sigh, they were making it hard to say no. “Fine. Text me the details tomorrow.”

“Okay, it’s going to be so much fun!” Seokmin cheered, raising his glass in a toast.

"Salute!" [Cheers!]

"Flight to Rome is now boarding,"

“Finally,” you mumble, rising up from the uncomfortable chair and making sure you didn’t leave anything behind.

Seungkwan informs you, gesturing towards the boarding sign. “Looks like first class is boarding now. Let’s go,” he says, urging you to follow him.

At the announcement, all of your friends make their way to Jeonghan to grab their boarding tickets. Jeonghan had organized the entire trip and booked first-class tickets for everyone, claiming it was supposed to be a relaxing vacation. You were surprised he knew someone who could help him book first-class, but you weren't complaining.

“Thanks, Jeonghan,” you say, holding the ticket in your hand and turning back to Soonyoung. "So, like I was saying..."

You walk away with him and Seungkwan to line up with everyone else, too busy explaining the plot of a new show you started.

Behind you, a curious Hansol received his ticket last. “Jeonghan, why do you have another ticket left?”

Jeonghan informs Hansol, "That's because Mingyu’s coming soon. I have to wait for him, so we’ll board later.”

Hansol tilts his head in confusion. "Isn't he supposed to go to France today? He was packing excitedly and even looking for places to eat there."

Jeonghan shrugs, "He informed me that the show was canceled in advance because it's expected to rain the entire week in Paris."

“What does rain have to do with a fashion show?”

Jeonghan’s face looks unsure, but he tells Hansol what Mingyu told him. “It was an outdoor show. All I know is that Mingyu’s ticket is bought and he’s coming with us.”

“Uh, okay, I'll see you both on the plane then.” Hansol places his headphones on before lining up behind Seungcheol and Junhui.

“Is anyone sitting in the same row as me?” Chan asks, and immediately everyone looks down at their tickets.

“I’m sitting in row two,” Wonwoo answers, waiting for someone to speak out.

Seungcheol grins. “Wonwoo, I’m sitting in the same row as you!” He cheers, and the two walk next to each other.

You study your own ticket.

“Does no one have row four?” you speak out loud, hoping you aren’t next to a complete stranger.

Everyone starts finding their seat buddy while you stand alone.

On the plane, the seats were isolated, but the seats were in pairs, so two people had their own space but still sat next to each other.

“Last time I checked, I’m with Jeonghan,” Jisoo announces, showing everyone his boarding ticket.

“I guess I’m the only one in my row,”

You hand your head low, realizing that since the group was an odd number of thirteen, someone was bound to sit alone if there were pairs of two. It was just weird because you were in one of the middle rows, being row four, and you assumed a later row would be a single person.

“It’s okay,” Seokmin reassures you. “If it’s a stranger, you can just sleep the whole time.”

You board the plane with your friends, the luxurious first-class cabin welcoming you with spacious seats and attentive flight attendants. The atmosphere is a mix of excited chatter and the soft hum of the airplane engines.

In front of you, your friends start to find their seats and settle down.

"This feels great," you say, finding your cubby, immediately sitting down and leaning back in the comfortable space.

Jihoon and Minghao walk down the aisle and spot your relaxed state, laughing at how quickly you settled into your seat.

You look for the sleeping mask that is given to everyone, planning to get a blanket later and fall asleep.

It was a habit of yours to sleep on the plane, and plus, you had been working until last night, so you needed to rest now before landing.

"Are you looking for a sleeping mask?" A voice asks from beside you. You remain busy rummaging through the gift bag to turn your head.

"Yes, I think it's in this bag, thank you," you answer, assuming it is a flight attendant.

To your luck, the sleeping mask was not inside the bag; instead, there was a toothbrush, toothpaste, and hairbrush.

"Here," the person says again. You freeze, staring at the sleeping mask.

"Wait, that's mine..." you trail off, staring at your old sleeping mask.

It was the one that you used when traveling with Mingyu.

Your eyes slowly look up to the owner of the voice.

"What are you doing here?" was the first thing Kim Mingyu heard from you after exactly six months of not talking.

His hand is still out, the sleeping mask you used to wear during vacations with him in his hand.

Mingyu's expression is calm, “This is my seat,” he motions at the empty cubicle next to yours.

You don't have anything to say as your mind races, anger bubbling up inside you.

Mingyu sighs, glancing at the sleeping mask. “I brought this because I know you like to sleep on planes. I thought it might help you.”

"Everyone said that you're not availab-" You stop mid-sentence, deciding it is not a priority to interrogate him.

You glance around, desperately wanting to change seats with one of your friends.

When you catch the stewardess’ eye, she smiles and announces to the plane, "Everyone, please remain in their seats for takeoff."

Frustrated, you comply and turn back, determined to ignore Mingyu.

He quietly sits down, a frown on his lips.

He hoped to be on talking terms with you, but he expected too much.

You place your headphones on and look out the window, ignoring his presence as the plane taxis down the runway and ascends into the clouds.

You close your eyes, trying to block out the thoughts of Mingyu. You take a deep breath, trying to focus on the soothing hum of the airplane engines.

‘You were not going to get any second of sleep now.’

1. YOUR EX IS ALSO GOING TO ITALY

“We swear, we had no idea Mingyu was coming!” Seungkwan's voice is frantic, trying to prove his innocence. His eyes remain wide since the moment he witnessed Mingyu walking behind you out of the plane.

“Seungkwan, then tell me why my ex,” you point behind Seungkwan's head to where Mingyu is standing, talking to Wonwoo and Minghao, “is here, in Rome, with us right now.”

You kept your cool on the plane, although seeing Mingyu would have made you emotional, and tried to fall asleep to express your anger after getting off the plane.

It was night when you arrived, and Jeonghan was trying to call the arranged transportation to take you all to the villa he booked.

All your friends stood around waiting for Jeonghan to finish talking to the airport receptionist while you pulled your three friends to a secluded corner, away from earshot.

"I still can't believe he's here though," Soonyoung spoke, taking a peek at Mingyu.

Seokmin nodded along with a slight grin, thinking of all the chances for Mingyu to sit with you, "And that Y/n had to sit next to him the entire eleven-hour plane ride."

Soonyoung, noticing your irritated state, chimes in, “Before we asked you to join us on the trip, we checked the group's schedule. Mingyu was supposed to be the only one not available to come because of his event.”

Seokmin steps in, his expression earnest. “We seriously don’t know why he’s here, either!”

Maybe your best friends are telling the truth.

They have been going out of their way to prevent you and Mingyu from crossing paths, but still, how did this happen?

“Wait,” Seungkwan mumbles, his eyes looking behind you. "It must have been Jeong-"

“Hey,” Jeonghan approaches your group first, causing Seungkwan to bite his tongue. "Time to head to our villa now," Jeonghan points to the exit of the airport, where the rest of your friends are socializing.

You glance back at Mingyu, who is laughing at something Wonwoo said.

You take a deep breath, this vacation is supposed to be about relaxation and fun, not dealing with feelings from the past.

“This is not going to be fun,” you say while all of you trail behind Jeonghan to leave.

“Okay, the transportation is sorted,” Jeonghan briefs, glancing at each of you. “Let’s head to the villa and settle in for the night.”

The group was split into four cars, so obviously you chose to ride with your close friends.

You sit in the passenger seat, placing on your seatbelt, while Soonyoung gets in the driver's seat. You place the villa's address into your phone for directions while Seungkwan and Seokmin place the luggage into the trunk of the car.

"Do you have space for me?" You spot Hansol outside your window with his suitcase.

"Oh, hey Hansol, we have one more seat, you can drive with us." You offer and point to his suitcase, "You should give that to Seungkwan and Seokmin now before they finish loading the trunk."

"Okay, thanks," Hansol walks behind the car so you and Soonyoung can set up the navigation once again.

"Are we ready to go?" Soonyoung asks once Seungkwan, Seokmin, and Hansol place their seatbelt on.

After hearing the choruses of yes, Soonyoung starts the car out of the airport's parking lot, leading the rest of the cars to the villa.

You stare out the window at the passing city lights, until Seokmin turns on songs to sing along to.

"I'm excited for this vacation," Seungkwan sighs while looking out the window at the streets of Rome.

Hansol agrees, "Yeah since all of our friends are here,"

You sigh from the front row, "I hope this vacation gets better,"

Hansol reads the room quickly, "Oh, is it because of Mingyu?"

"Yeah, we all thought he wasn't coming so I wasn't mentally prepared to see him." You turn your head to face Hansol and offer him a smile, "But I'm still glad I came because I haven't seen everyone in so long."

Hansol drums his fingers on his knee, "Jeonghan told me that Mingyu's fashion show got canceled so he joined us."

Seungkwan's eyes widen, "It got canceled? Wow, he really looked forward to that trip."

Hansol replies, "Yeah, that's what I thought when I heard. I guess no one really expected it either."

Suddenly, Seokmin gets excited over the next song from his playlist, singing along to the lyrics. The burst of energy causes Soonyoung to chuckle from the driver's seat, while you and Seungkwan try to record a video of this moment.

The way your friends know how to make you laugh in a situation like this, made you feel hopeful for the vacation.

"Y/n, wake up!"

Soonyoung steps into your room and walks over to open the window curtains, hoping that the sunlight will wake you up. Your first instinct is to cover your entire body with the white blanket, snuggling your head deeper into the fluffy pillow.

"Soonyoung, let me sleep in."

You hear another voice entering the room, "Y/n, get up!"

This time you let out a loud groan, "Guys," You peek an eye open and move the covers, "Why are we going to a sandwich shop in the morning?"

Seokmin stands near the door, holding a toothbrush with toothpaste on it.

"It's actually lunchtime," Soonyoung stares out to admire the view from your room, comparing it with his.

Jeonghan had found a villa with a lot of bedrooms, so a lot of people were able to get single rooms, including yourself.

"Everyone woke up late from traveling last night," Soonyoung informs you.

"You have twenty minutes before we head out." Seokimin starts brushing his teeth in your room while Soonyoung walks past to leave, "Come on, they're all waiting," His voice is muffled by the toothpaste, but nonetheless, you can make out his words.

After a sigh, you turn to rise from your bed and decide to join them.

‘Wait a minute.’

"Seokmin," He turns around by your door, the white toothpaste threatening to spill from his lips.

"Who's they?"

Seokmin smiles sheepishly, before running to the bathroom down the hall.

2. YOUR FRIENDS WILL DRAG YOU TO FIVE-STAR SANDWICH SHOPS

"Okay, let me pay, you can all wait outside," Chan announces, waving the group off as he nears the counter.

You allow Joshua, Mingyu, Jun, and Jihoon to walk out of the sandwich shop near your villa, leaving yourself with Soonyoung and Seokmin inside the store, while Chan attempts to pay for the sandwiches in Italian.

"So," You turn to Soonyoung and Seokmin, who suddenly decide to help out Chan. To them, the prices on the menu seem more interesting right now.

Chan's eyes slightly widen in surprise at your state, before he takes a few steps back to listen to his Google Translate for Italian.

"Okay, in our opinion," Seokmin starts, scratching the back of his head.

"This sandwich shop shouldn't be passed up just because Mingyu is coming."

"How do you even know this place is good? You've never been to Europe before." You start waving your hands around, hopefully not scaring the store owner who is making eight sandwiches behind the counter.

Soonyoung opens his phone, showing his screen with a grin, "Look here, the Yelp rating says five stars."

"Seriously?"

"But, it's five stars!"

Your mouth thins into a line, "You know what, okay," you pinch the bridge of your nose, "I know I can't just avoid him forever. But next time, please let me know in advance so I'm aware."

Before they agree, an alert voice interrupts your conversation.

"Hai appena detto che sono cento euro?" [Did you just say it’s a hundred euros?]

After the delicious lunch and a new five-star Yelp review from a satisfied Soonyoung, you were joined by everyone else to head to the Arco di Constantino.

A giant bus stood in front of you, one that Jeonghan had rented for the rest of the trip for easier travel, so you went in with Seungkwan and sat in one of the two-seat rows in the middle.

The rest of your friends trail in loudly, most of them walking past you to sit in the back row.

To your surprise, Mingyu plops down on the seat in the row next to you.

When Seokmin comes to sit next to Mingyu, he stands up for Seokmin to sit in the window seat.

After Seokmin sits down, Mingyu sits to place his seatbelt on and meets your eyes, "What? I like the aisle seat."

‘That's a lie.’

You shrug, turning your head away from Mingyu.

It wasn't your business where he sat down although right now, it was right next to you.

"After a war ends, Constantino walks under it to celebrate his victory."

"No way, that's correct!"

"How did you know that, Mingyu?" You hear a curious Seungcheol behind you.

"I guessed, I can't even believe I got that right," Mingyu admits, stunned at his own response.

Wonwoo is next to them, asking another question to entertain the two.

The bus arrived at the Arch of Constantine and everyone was walking closer to see the building.

The Arch of Constantine was breathtaking, its ancient structure standing tall against the bright blue sky. As you walked through the historic site, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe.

"There are detailed carvings on the gate," Soonyoung points out while walking down the gray stone path. "How do you think they made it?"

Jihoon stares up at the gate next to you, "They probably placed a stone down and carved it, then added more stones on top."

You tilt your head, "The details are insane though,"

"It's next to the colosseum," Minghao says, taking out his phone to take photos. The group splits up to take photos of the arch and the colosseum.

While walking back to the bus, Junhui suddenly says, "I'm kind of craving gelato right now."

"You want some?" Jeonghan asks Junhui from beside you.

"Yeah, I want some," Soonyoung responds, spotting the little stand in front of you.

"Can we agree on a flavor?" Seungcheol asks while staring back at the entire group.

"Is lemon good?" You suggest while staring back at the flavors.

It was easier to agree on a flavor when getting food with a big friend group.

"Yeah, I'll order." Jisoo offers, so you step back from the stand to wait for a cone with Seungkwan.

You see Seokmin and Hansol walk over to Minghao to ask for a bite, both of them complimenting the gelato.

Wonwoo joins the two of you with a cone, licking the gelato, "I feel so happy while eating this,"

Mingyu and Junhui join your circle, both holding lemon gelatos in hand.

"I feel like I can travel the world with just a camera," Wonwoo adds, engaging in the conversation with Seungkwan.

Mingyu taps your shoulder quietly, handing you his gelato.

Your mouth is open in surprise, "What about you?"

Mingyu shrugs, following after Junhui, Wonwoo, and Seungkwan who start walking to the bus.

"Thanks," you tell him before hurrying to the group.

When you were busy talking to Wonwoo and Junhui about your hopes to travel in the future, you hear Seungkwan scolding in the back, "Mingyu, why didn't you get your own, stop talking mine!"

3. YOU WILL HAVE TO BE CIVIL WITH YOUR EX

"We're back!" You hear Chan from downstairs.

Seungkwan, Chan, and Mingyu went to get groceries at a nearby market for dinner, while the rest of you returned to the villa.

"Can we make kimchi stew?" You hear Soonyoung ask from the kitchen when you reach the end of the staircase. As you enter the first floor, you see Mingyu and Chan unloading the groceries into the refrigerator while Soonyoung, Wonwoo, and Seungcheol open the other non-perishable items.

"Ask Seokmin when he comes down, but I think we can," You answer, studying the packages of food that peeked out of the boxes.

"This is egg," Mingyu says to Chan, handing over a carton of eggs. "Be careful."

"This is ice cream," Mingyu takes out a box of ice cream this time, "It's melting!"

Chan hurries to place the ice cream inside the freezer, matching Mingyu's energy, "Emergency!"

You smile for a second at their behavior, before snapping out it.

If Soonyoung notices from beside you, he doesn't say anything.

"Okay, I'll cook the meat," Mingyu suggests after everyone forms a circle around the kitchen island.

"I'll work on the stew," Seokmin adds, walking over to grab some pork.

You stand across Seokimin, with Soonyoung and Wonwoo by your side, watching as Seokmin cuts up the pork.

"Honestly, we have to leave the cooking to the professionals," Wonwoo says next to you, staring at the rest of your friends who are in the kitchen.

Minghao stirs up eggs to include it with the fried rice, Jihoon adds kimchi and pork into the pan, and Jisoo goes to help wash the vegetables.

"You're right," You decide to sit on the table away from the kitchen and watch the rest of your friends with Hansol and Seungcheol instead.

Eventually, the food is prepared and everyone walks outside to the backyard, where Chan and Wonwoo had already set up the chairs.

"Food coming through!" Seokmin yells as you take a seat in the middle area. You laugh at Seokmin's actions, swerving by a surprised Junhui who was also on the way out to sit.

"Is everything done?" Jeonghan asks, taking a seat next to you.

You nod, "I think so, I'm starving!"

As you guessed, other friends started coming outside, some with the food that they made.

"This looks so good," Wonwoo says across from you, staring at the fried rice and eggs placed on a white plate.

"This tastes good!" Soonyoung compliments the fried rice, after taking a bite.

When Mingyu walks outside with the plate of meat, the only seat open happens to be next to you.

‘Why is a seat no one sitting in the middle?’

You open your chopsticks, gazing around at the table.

All your friends have sat down around, somehow leaving the only empty seat next to you.

"Hey," You nudge Mingyu quietly, "Can we talk?"

Mingyu meets your eyes, placing down his shot glass, "Here?"

You shake your head, scanning the situation around you. The meal had made everyone happy, resulting in more drinking games.

Thankfully, you and Mingyu had not drunk too much, and no one seemed to notice you and Mingyu talking in the first place, everyone being too drunk already.

"Inside, I'll go first."

You rise from your seat, taking the chance of Seokmin and Seungcheol singing a karaoke song as the perfect distraction to go inside.

Two minutes later, Mingyu finds you leaning on the kitchen island, pouring yourself a cup of water.

"Hey," He approaches you while playing with his fingers, "What did you want to talk about?"

When you look up from the glass cup, Mingyu's standing on the other side of the island, waiting for you to answer.

"Oh, hey, I just wanted to talk about us..." You trail off, tracing over the top of the cup.

"Listen. I know it's awkward between us." Mingyu has a frown on his lips, allowing you to continue.

"But I also care about our friends, and I want to be civil, so we don't make our friends feel uncomfortable."

Mingyu nods slowly, "Okay, so what are you implying?"

"We stay on talking terms for the remainder of the vacation, just until we get back.."

You run a hand through your hair, "So, friends?"

You place a hand out, waiting for Mingyu to shake it.

"Yeah, friends," Mingyu finishes, shaking your hand.

‘Well isn't this situation awkward...’

"I'm going to go head back out first," You take your glass cup and walk past him.

"It's time for Yoon-zino!"

4. YOU WILL CARE FOR YOUR EX

“I can’t wait for this hot air balloon,” Minghao says before yawning.

It was the third day of the vacation. The plan was to wake up early and enjoy a hot air balloon ride over the Italian countryside.

Although the bus ride was silent, with everyone sleeping, the group was loud in excitement about the activity.

As you approach the balloon, you overhear Wonwoo and Seungcheol talking enthusiastically. “This is going to be amazing,” Wonwoo says, his camera ready to capture every moment.

“I’ve always wanted to do this,” Seungcheol adds with a grin.

Mingyu stands with them, nodding in agreement, but you can see the fear in his eyes. “Yeah, definitely,” he says, trying to sound convincing.

The balloon ascends, and the view of the Italian countryside is breathtaking. The rolling hills and vineyards spread out below, bathed in the golden light of dawn.

Mingyu is gripping the edge tightly, his knuckles white. He tries to mask his fear with a tight-lipped smile, but it is clear to anyone paying attention that he is struggling. His eyes dart around nervously, avoiding looking directly down.

You notice Mingyu’s discomfort immediately. You want to reach out and hold his hand, to comfort him like you used to, but you hesitate. Mingyu notices, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment and pleading silently for some form of reassurance.

“Y/n, look at this view!” Seungcheol calls out, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“It’s beautiful,” you say, forcing a smile as you turn your attention back to the scenery. You can still see Mingyu from the corner of your eye, his grip on the edge not loosening.

Hansol is taking pictures with his phone, while Wonwoo quietly admires the scenery through his camera lens. You watch as Mingyu’s discomfort grows. His breaths are shallow, and he keeps shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“I’m going to take some pictures too,” Seungcheol says, moving around the basket and giving you a clearer view of Mingyu. He glances at you, his eyes silently begging for support.

You almost reach out, almost say something comforting, but you stop yourself. It isn’t your place anymore. You have decided to stay friends, nothing more. But seeing his clear distress, you can't ignore it any longer.

Carefully, you inch closer to Mingyu, making sure none of the others are watching. You reach out and take his hand, squeezing it gently and trying to hide the gesture from the others.

Mingyu looks at you in surprise, a mixture of relief and gratitude flooding his eyes. He squeezes back, his grip tight, finding solace in your touch.

“Thanks,” he whispers, barely audible over the sound of the wind.

You nod, offering a small, reassuring smile. For the remainder of the ride, you stay close, your hands intertwined and hidden, providing the comfort he needs away from the others' eyes. Gradually, you notice Mingyu relaxing, his grip on the edge loosening as he starts to enjoy the view.

“Wow, it’s really something,” he says, his voice steadier.

“It is,” you agree, feeling a warmth spread through you at his newfound ease.

Wonwoo continues taking photos with his camera, capturing the beautiful landscape and candid moments of the group. Hansol leans over the edge, enjoying the view with a wide grin on his face.

Later, Hansol bursts into laughter, pointing across to the second hot air balloon where Seungkwan and Seokmin are making exaggerated faces and gestures.

“Look at those two,” Hansol chuckles. “They’re having the time of their lives.”

You look over and can’t help but smile at Seungkwan and Seokmin’s antics, their laughter carrying across the distance between the balloons. The group is split into three hot air balloons, and you can see the others waving and enjoying the ride just as much.

The balloon ride finally ends, and as soon as the basket touches the ground, you gently pull your hand away. Mingyu lets go reluctantly, a hint of disappointment flashing across his face, but he understands.

You both have agreed to keep things civil, nothing more.

As the group gathers for a photo, you find yourself standing next to Mingyu. He looks at you, a small, tired smile on his lips.

“Thanks for sticking close,” he says softly, though you know he means more than just the balloon ride.

“Of course,” you reply, equally softly. “What are friends for?”

For a moment, you catch a glimpse of Mingyu's smile falling, before you turn to walk away. Maybe you're both struggling to define the boundaries of your relationship.

“You guys ready to explore more?” Minghao asks his camera in hand.

“Yes!” Jisoo replies enthusiastically.

Jihoon, who has been quietly enjoying the ride, chimes in with a rare joke. “Wow, that was fun. I should leave the house more often,” he says, making everyone laugh.

You walk away, mingling with the others, but the memory of Mingyu’s fear and your shared moment stays with you. Maybe, just maybe, there is still something worth salvaging between you two.

5. YOU WILL STILL HAVE FEELINGS FOR YOUR EX

As the group returns from their hot air balloon adventure, the energy is still high as they gather in the backyard to enjoy the karaoke machine set up outside the villa. Wonwoo and Seokmin finish singing the final line of their song, and the karaoke machine score comes out with a neat 100 points on the television screen, prompting cheers and applause from everyone.

Seungkwan and Seungcheol take charge of choosing the next song, and Seungcheol suggests, "Let's do an old song!" He looks over the song choices from their discography, while Hansol points from the couch next to you, "What about 'Run to You'?"

Soonyoung eagerly agrees, asking for a microphone from Seokmin to sing. The familiar intro starts, and Seungcheol decides to sing Jisoo's part in the beginning, causing the group to laugh before they all join in singing.

As the song plays, you find yourself laughing along with the others, but as the lyrics fill the atmosphere, a sense of melancholy washes over you. The words hit close to home, reminding you of the past and the promises made.

"지금 난 너와 똑같은 무엇이든 필요해 하지만 나에겐 있지 않으니까 우리 다시 만나자 내가 도착하기 전까지 잘 지내고 있어야 해 지금 널 찾아가고 있어"

[Right now, you and I, we both need the same thing But I don't have it so let's meet again later Please be well until I get there I'm going to you right now]

Soonyoung finishes his line and Junhui excitedly calls from the kitchen, announcing that dinner is ready and to go outside to the people inside. As everyone comes out to the backyard for dinner, you can't shake the bittersweet feeling that lingers from the past conversation with Mingyu.

You get up from the lounge chair, making your way over to take a seat between Soonyoung and Mingyu, the latter observing quietly as you and Soonyoung engage in light-hearted conversation.

As the meal progresses, you find yourself feeling increasingly nostalgic and sad, the memories of your past relationship with Mingyu weighing heavily on your mind. To distract yourself, you accept the drink offered by Soonyoung, the liquid warmth soothing your troubled thoughts.

"Will you always come back to me?" you hear Mingyu ask, his tone serious, pulling you from your thoughts.

You turn your head to Mingyu, currently cuddling in bed together, and his sudden change in mood surprises you. "Baby, that's such a dumb question. Where would I go?"

But Mingyu's face remains serious, causing you to pull him closer to you, seeking reassurance. "No seriously, Mingyu. I'm not going anywhere."

Mingyu sighs, resting his head on top of yours, your bodies tangled under the covers. "If we were to ever stay apart, can you promise me that you'll come back to me?"

Confused, you pull slightly away, trying to meet Mingyu's eyes. "Are you breaking up with me?"

Mingyu shakes his head, his expression pained. "No, never, but if anything were to happen between us, can you promise me that you won't stop loving me?"

Your heart aches at his words, realizing the depth of his fears. You trace over his facial features, feeling a pang of sadness. "Baby, you're seriously scaring me. Why would I stop loving you?"

But Mingyu pouts, his worries still evident. "Just in case, if we were to ever have anything come between us, promise that you will always come right back to me."

You smile softly, understanding his fears. "Yes, I promise that if anything were to happen between us, I will always come back to you."

“What if you don’t?” Mingyu presses on, “What if you don’t come back?”

You think for a second, before answering him, “If you keep loving me, I will always go back to you.”

As the evening progresses and the drinks flow freely, you find yourself drinking more than usual, seeking solace in the numbness alcohol brings.

Mingyu notices your increasing intoxication and leans over, his voice low with concern. "Hey, maybe you should slow down on the drinking," he suggests gently, but you brush off his concern, insisting you're fine.

Seeing that you're not listening to Mingyu, he calls out to Seungkwan, who is engaged in conversation with Jeonghan a few seats away.

"Seungkwan, could you help Y/n out? I think she's had enough," Mingyu says, taking away the glass full of alcohol before you take a shot with Soonyoung.

Seungkwan nods and quickly comes to your side, gently taking your arm. "Come on, let's get you back to your room," he says softly, guiding you away from the table.

As you walk back to your room with Seungkwan, the alcohol clouding your thoughts, you can't help but open up to him about your feelings for Mingyu. "I think I like him again," you confess, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "I don't know what to do."

Seungkwan listens intently, offering comfort and support as you grapple with your emotions.

6. YOUR EX ALSO CARES FOR YOU

The next day, you visited a wine festival nearby. Today was the last day of the festival, so there were going to be a lot of people.

The group was split off, Junhui far ahead first like a curious child, sampling different wines and enjoying the picturesque surroundings. Mingyu stayed close by, though you spent most of your time with Seungkwan and Soonyoung.

“Try this one, Y/n,” Seungkwan hands you his glass of red wine after the vendor stops pourng into his glass.

“Thanks,” you said, taking a sip. You could feel Mingyu’s eyes on you, but you refused to look his way.

After a few more sips of wine, your trio was walking in different directions and giggling after every word.

"Soonyoung, you know you're a great friend, right?" You hear Seungkwan say next to you.

Soonyoung finishes his nth cup of wine before flashing a grin, "Aw, you're a great friend too, Seungkwan."

"What about me?"

As the wine tour continued, Mingyu found himself unable to tear his gaze away from you. He hovered nearby, subtly keeping an eye on you as you laughed and chatted with Seungkwan and Soonyoung.

Meanwhile, you were thoroughly enjoying yourself, the effects of the wine starting to take hold as you giggled and stumbled your way through the booths. Seungkwan handed you another glass of red wine, and you accepted it with a grin, taking a sip and savoring the rich flavor.

"Thanks, Seungkwan," you say, feeling the warmth of the wine spreading through your body. "This is delicious."

Soonyoung, equally intoxicated, chimes in with a laugh, "Seungkwan's our wine connoisseur today!"

The three of you continued to wander down the path, sampling different wines and enjoying the picturesque surroundings. Mingyu stayed close by, though he kept his distance, watching over you from afar.

But as the tour progressed, Mingyu couldn't help but feel a pang of concern as he watched you grow more and more tipsy.

Eventually, as the group make their way back to the bus, you stumble, nearly tripping over your own feet.

Mingyu quickly moves to steady you, his hands gripping your shoulders to keep you upright.

"Careful there," he says softly.

You blink up at him, a playful grin on your lips. "I'm fine, Mingyu," you insist, though your words are slightly slurred.

Mingyu sighed, knowing there was no reasoning with you in your current state. Instead, he simply nodded, guiding you back to the bus with a gentle hand on your back.

Once on board, you quickly found a seat and slumped against the window, exhaustion starting to set in. Mingyu sat down beside you, watching over you protectively as you drifted off to sleep.

As the bus rumbled back towards the villa, Mingyu took you back to your bedroom, tucking you in and closing the door behind him.

He already knew you wouldn't remember anything tomorrow.

7. YOUR EX WILL HELP YOU

You do not recall anything from yesterday, except that you had a lot of fun with Soonyoung and Seungkwan in the beginning.

When you went downstairs, Hansol told you that Mingyu took care of you the entire time, and you couldn't help but stand in shock.

The rest of your friends came downstairs to eat a quick breakfast before departing.

The plan was to travel to Port de Marlei and ride a big yacht, that Jeonghan had pulled some strings for, before having a nice seafood dinner to end the night.

"Has anyone seen my volleyball?" Seungkwan asks while looking around the boat, hoping it miraculously jumped from the port to the yacht.

Including you, everyone shakes their head no.

Seokmin is right behind Seungkwan, attempting to help him find the volleyball. The two head towards the front of the boat, while the rest of you remain sitting around the lounge area.

While Seungkwan left his tote bag on a bench at the port, the ball rolled away, leaving a very sad Seungkwan, as he had grown attached to the volleyball during the vacation, taking it everywhere with him.

"I'm going to feel seasick," Wonwoo says, trying to prepare himself for the ride.

Jeonghan also agrees with Wonwoo, "Me too, I didn't bring any medicine."

Mingyu, who had disappeared earlier, returns to the group, standing in front of you with a small bottle.

"Here," he opens his hand to give you medicine for sea sickness, "I asked the boat crew and they had some."

Everyone stares, except Chan who is busy trying to connect to the Bluetooth speaker. "Oh, thanks," you say, surprised at Mingyu's thoughtfulness.

‘It's like he remembered that you have seasickness.’

"Wow, Mingyu, what about us?" Jeonghan teases and you take out a pill before giving the medicine to Jeonghan and Wonwoo.

"There's enough to go around," you roll your eyes, taking the medicine with water, before giving the water to the two.

Your heart warms from the caring gesture, but you don't want it to show.

"It's time to depart," the captain of the boat informs everyone, and Seungkwan and Seokmin return from the front, Seungkwan still frowning.

Chan starts playing 'Holiday', and everyone starts singing along, especially Seungkwan.

Everyone laughs as your best friend starts to sing loudly as if he wasn't upset over losing his volleyball moments ago, and soon others join in to sing.

"Is that a jellyfish?" Seungkwan questions while holding his volleyball.

Everyone had already hopped into the ocean to swim, so it was only you, Seungkwan, and the boat crew left on the yacht.

You stop placing on the snorkeling equipment, turning over to the ocean surface that he was gazing at.

"Wow, that is a jellyfish. Do you think it's safe?" you ask, before tapping the shoulder of a nice lady who was part of the boat crew.

Earlier, she helped Seungkwan find his missing volleyball. Apparently, after the volleyball rolled out of Seungkwan's tote bag at Port de Marlei, the captain of the boat happened to pick it up and throw it onto the front of the yacht.

When the boat crew members finally realized that Seungkwan was looking for a volleyball, the nice lady went to retrieve it from the front, giving it to a now-happy Seungkwan.

You and Seungkwan had taken a liking to her ever since.

She stopped talking to the other crew workers, eyes following where Seungkwan was pointing.

"That is safe," she explains politely, "Not poisonous."

With a sigh of relief, you and Seungkwan decide to hop into the ocean.

"Water taxi coming through." You come up to the surface, still swimming, only to see Soonyoung and Chan sitting on top of a paddle board and using the paddle sticks to move around the ocean.

Jisoo laughs and asks to get on the board, which results in the entire board flipping over.

You shake your head while laughing, then go back into swimming in the deep waters.

Jihoon is near you, with snorkeling gear on and exploring the water too.

After about an hour in the water, and many explanations from Seungkwan to others that the jellyfish is safe, you notice Hansol leaving the floatie to hop back on the yacht.

You swim toward the floatie, deciding to tan a bit on top of it.

What you didn't realize, is that swimming had worn you out, resulting in you taking a slight nap.

"Where's Y/n?" Mingyu hears as he climbs back on the yacht.

"She's not on the boat," Jisoo replies to Seungcheol, and now the three of them are turning their heads from the boat, trying to identify you.

"Wait, actually though, where is she?" Seungcheol and Jisoo see Mingyu on alert and realize you are nowhere to be found from the group of people still in the water.

"Is anyone next to Y/n?" Mingyu yells from the yacht to the people in the water, hoping you were just swimming under the water for a solid two minutes and someone saw you go down.

"Wait, don't tell me that's her," Jisoo points from the edge of the boat to a floatie that seems to get further by the second. "How did she get so far?"

Soonyoung and Seungkwan climb on the yacht to look for you too.

"Oh my god, I think she's napping. Does she have a life jacket on?"

Seungkwan recalls you before the two of you went into the water, "I don't think she does."

"We have to tell the boat crew," Soonyoung says, staring at how you were closer to the rocks than the yacht now.

However, before anyone can get to the captain, Mingyu has a life jacket on, and a spare one in his hand, and jumps into the water.

"Don't tell me he's swimming to her." Seungkwan puts a hand over his mouth in surprise.

Seungcheol shakes his head at Mingyu's actions, a smile still ghosting his lips, "Kim Mingyu, I guess that's what love does to you," He jokes while Soonyoung walks past to still inform the crew.

"Y/n!" You groan, opening your eyes and coming to your senses. There's sunlight directly on your eyes, making you squint your eyes.

"What?" You yell, before realizing that you had fallen asleep, on a floatie.

"Oh my god," You say, before sitting up and realizing that you were far from the yacht.

Among the big gap of water from the boat, you spot someone swimming to you.

"Mingyu? Why are we so far from the boat?"

Mingyu's life jacket prevents him from drowning, and he swims to reach your floatie.

"Hey, it's okay, here," he hands you a spare life jacket that he took with him, which makes him thankful to bring because you weren't wearing one.

Mingyu holds onto your floatie while you place the life jacket on.

"So, are we swimming back to the boat or," you smile slightly, feeling embarrassed that this situation happened.

"I think the boat is coming closer, then we can go swim to it," Mingyu explains, watching how your friends had started to leave the ocean waters and a few were staring at all of you from the edge of the boat.

"Thanks," You say quietly, still sitting on top of the floatie. Mingyu remains in the water, running a hand through his hair.

"Be more careful next time, what if Seungcheol and Jisoo didn't realize you went missing? What if something serious happened to you?"

You remain quiet at Mingyu's lecture, staring down at your fingers.

"I'm sorry, I was just so tired that I fell asleep on the floatie." Before Mingyu can answer, you hear the yacht coming closer to you two.

"Guys, swim over now. You can leave the floatie there!" Jeonghan yells from the edge of the boat.

You laugh at him, before sending Mingyu a smile and swimming back with him.

"The menu looks so cute," Seokmin says loudly, passing on the extra menu pamphlets down the row.

It was time for dinner, at a nearby seafood restaurant.

"I can't read what it says," Junhui says from in front of you, handing Mingyu a menu next to him.

Hansol and Soonyoung sit on either side of you and you receive a menu too.

"What food do you want?" You ask Junhui, trying to read the menu. The menu is filled with Italian, hence why it would be difficult for someone to order.

"I want a lobster with butter," Junhui answers, and you look down the menu for anything that seems to match what he wants.

"I want grilled lobster, too." You say out loud, closing the menu because you can't find the lobster selection on the menu.

"We should just ask," Mingyu suggests, placing his menu down.

"Do you guys have lobster?" Mingyu asks the nice waitress, "Grilled lobster?"

The woman looks confused, answering "We have pasta,"

Hansol, Soonyoung, Junhui, and you burst out laughing at the conversation going on.

"Pasta?" Mingyu repeats what she said, "Yes," the waitress replies.

Mingyu holds out his hands, imitating lobster claws, "No, lobster,"

Again, you and Hansol laugh at his actions, and you realize how determined Mingyu looks to help you and Junhui out.

The waitress seems to understand what Mingyu asks, nodding her head with a smile, "Oh, lobster, okay."

From next to you, Soonyoung decides to joke around, "We are superstar," He adds, "He is popstar,"

You and Hansol stop mid-laugh, trying to shush Soonyoung so that he won't expose the group's identities.

"Grazi" [Thanks] Seokmin says when he receives his seafood pasta.

You stare down at the table, as your food hasn't arrived yet, trying to see what your friends ordered.

The waitress places a plate of oysters on the table for your group and Soonyoung immediately digs in to eat.

Eventually, all of your food arrives, including yours and Junhui's grilled lobster with butter, and Seokmin decides to hold a toast.

"Everyone, salute!" [Cheers]

"I'm so full," you hear Seungcheol pat his stomach after walking out of the seafood restaurant. The sky above is a canvas of deep blues and purples, as the sun has just set, casting a warm glow over the streets of Port di Marlee.

"We should stroll around before going back on the bus," Jeonghan suggests, and everyone agrees.

The group splits into three, all walking down the cobblestone streets, which are bathed in the soft light of street lamps. The air is filled with the scent of the sea and distant music from street performers.

As you walk, you find yourself in a group with Mingyu, Jihoon, Junhui, and Jisoo. The streets are quieter now, with fewer tourists, making the area peaceful.

"I'm kind of craving gelato," Junhui says suddenly, his eyes lighting up at the sight of a small gelato stand up ahead.

"Let's get some," Jisoo agrees, leading the way. The stand is quaint, set up on the street with colorful displays of gelato flavors visible through the glass counter. The ground beneath is paved with grey tiles, worn smooth by years of footsteps.

Jihoon, Junhui, and Jisoo step up to order first. They chat animatedly with the vendor, a jovial man with a thick Italian accent. You and Mingyu take a moment to decide on your flavors.

"What flavor would you like?" The owner asks you and Mingyu after your three friends have ordered their flavors.

"Can I get one mint chocolate and one vanilla?" you ask and the owner nods, starting to scoop all five gelatos.

Mingyu looks at you, surprised. "You remember my favorite flavor?"

You nod with a smile.

The three overhear this exchange and share mischievous glances.

As soon as they get their gelato cones first Jisoo quickly pays for all five gelatos, before the three run laughing down the street, leaving you and Mingyu behind just as the vendor starts scooping your orders.

You and Mingyu exchange amused looks but decide to ignore their antics, waiting patiently for your gelato cones. The vendor works efficiently, handing over your gelatos.

Mingyu takes the mint chocolate cone and hands you your vanilla one. "Here you go," he says with a smile.

"Thanks," you reply, savoring the creamy sweetness. After a moment, you look at him. "Do you want a bite?"

Mingyu's eyes light up. "Sure," he says, taking a small bite of your vanilla gelato. He then offers his cone to you, and you take a taste of the refreshing mint chocolate.

"Thanks for going out of your way to save me earlier," you say, genuinely grateful.

"It was nothing," Mingyu responds, but there's a softness in his voice. "Really, I couldn't just leave you out there."

"I really appreciate it," you insist, feeling the warmth of the moment. The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, walking side by side down the quiet street.

Mingyu wants to hold your hand but hesitates, remembering that you're not dating anymore. Still, the closeness feels right.

Meanwhile, Jihoon, Jisoo, and Junhui catch up with Soonyoung, Seungkwan, Chan, and Wonwoo, who are further up the street, sharing their gelatos and talking animatedly.

"Did you leave them behind?" Seungkwan asks with a grin, noticing that the three were out of breath.

"Yeah, we gave them some space," Jihoon replies, laughing.

"I wonder if they'll get back together," Chan muses, looking back down the street.

"I hope so," Junhui says, taking a big bite of his gelato. "They were so good together."

"I've never seen Mingyu swim that fast," Jisoo adds, shaking his head. "The moment Y/n started floating away, he was in the water like a rocket."

The group laughs, their voices blending with the distant music and the gentle lapping of the waves against the port.

As you and Mingyu continue your walk, sharing bites of each other's gelatos and exchanging quiet smiles, you can't help but wonder if he still has feelings for you, too.

8. YOU WILL FALL IN LOVE WITH YOUR EX, AGAIN

"Y/n! Drink up!" Your group of friends roars around you while you close your eyes in defeat.

"Not again," you whine, but across from you, Soonyoung starts to pour you a shot. "Come on, that was a practice round!"

Nonetheless, the filled shot glass is placed in front of you on the wooden table.

It was the last night of the vacation, and the group stayed in during the morning to pack their luggage for tomorrow's afternoon flight. Now, it was time for the traditional drinking night.

You take a deep breath, picking up the shot glass, preparing yourself to drink for the nth time tonight.

"Wait," a hand reaches out to grab the shot glass out of your grasp.

"Woah, is Kim Mingyu drinking for Y/n?" Seungcheol yells from the edge of the table. He and Seokmin get up from their seats to clap in excitement.

Without a reply, Mingyu gulps down the shot, finishing off with a big grin. You stare in shock at Mingyu, ignoring the choruses of teasing from your friends.

Mingyu smiles, feeling satisfied. "For her? Anytime."

"Simp," Jeonghan comments beside you, clapping his hands at the unexpected action.

"Okay, time for Jisoo's favorite game, game start!" Chan sings, moving on to another game.

Thankfully, the next game was one you were good at, so this time Jihoon lost.

"Okay, since you lost," Seungkwan points across to the Bluetooth karaoke machine placed in the backyard of the villa. "Sing us a song, please."

Jihoon laughs. "Any requests?" He stands up from his seat and makes his way to grab the microphone.

Seokmin yells from his spot, "Can you sing 'Don't Wanna Cry' please?"

Seungkwan nods, although Jihoon is busy turning on the machine and finding the song. "Yes, karaoke break!"

Everyone turns their head to watch Jihoon sing, and soon Seungkwan and Seokmin have joined Jihoon, all singing perfectly despite their drunk states.

"I'm going to go grab a glass of water," you announce to the table, rising to head inside the kitchen.

You have to admit, looking for a glass cup, or any new cup for that matter, is quite a quest, as it is placed in a random cabinet.

You hear a new voice while sliding the backdoor closed; it's Mingyu and Wonwoo singing "To You," and some of your friends recording the duo. You stand still in front of the sliding doors, deciding to quietly admire Mingyu's vocals.

You sober up, feeling as if someone had poured a bucket of ice over your head. The shock on your face isn't because the vocals are incredible while drunk; it's because Mingyu stared at you the entire time while singing.

"Wow, I caught that on video!" Minghao happily shares from the table.

He stares at his phone. "Wow, Mingyu, you're great at singing without the lyrics." He laughs, and everyone else is silent, gazing between you and Mingyu.

"Um, I'm going to head to bed. We have a long flight tomorrow." You don't meet Mingyu's eyes and quickly walk by to grab your phone to go to bed.

The others break the awkward moment, complimenting the two before deciding to stop drinking and start a karaoke session instead.

"Who wants to sing with me?" Chan's question is the last thing you hear while you go upstairs.

You let out a breath, closing your eyes when you make it inside your room.

"So, what's your favorite song so far?" Mingyu asks, sitting next to you on the couch.

You were watching Mingyu record in Jihoon's studio for the new album, Attacca, since Mingyu had told you that there were great tracks for this comeback.

Your eyes light up, staring up at your boyfriend. "Definitely, 'To You'. I love the message of the song. It feels like someone singing to their lover."

Mingyu chuckles, staring at you in awe. "You know, I imagine I'm talking to you when I sing my lyrics," he admits before pressing a kiss on your forehead.

You smile widely. "I'm your person?"

Mingyu reaches out to hold you. "Yes, and you've placed all of the smiles in the world in my hands."

"Hey," Seungkwan opens your door, walks into your room, and sits on the edge of your bed.

"How do you feel?"

You place your head in your hands. "Seungkwan, it just hurts, you know? I came here and was reminded of my past relationship, but in reality, after the vacation ends, Mingyu and I will go back to being strangers."

Seungkwan frowns. He was internally thankful that the two of you didn't drink that much tonight.

"Would you consider confessing to him again?"

You stare at Seungkwan wide-eyed. "No! I can't. I think it's best if we leave whatever happened here, here. If we were to get back together, we may break up because of the same reason."

You wanted to give Mingyu and your relationship another try but remind yourself that Seventeen will have another comeback after this trip, and the reason you broke up with Mingyu was because he stopped putting in the effort, you didn't want to go through that again.

"I don't know what to do," you feel overwhelmed, tears welling up in your eyes. Seungkwan grabs a box of napkins from the bathroom counter and walks back to you, sitting closer.

"I just don't want to be hurt again, Seungkwan."

Seungkwan sighs while handing you napkins. "Listen, I really want you to talk to him. But if you don't want to, we can always just go back home tonight."

You take a shaky breath. "Tonight?"

Seungkwan shrugs. "You packed, right? We're both pretty sober, so let's tell Jeonghan and buy some tickets back home."

You nod slowly. "I think that's what I need. I know I'm running from this, but I really don't know how to act in front of him anymore. I want to get back together so bad, but at the same time, I know our relationship won't work out."

Seungkwan understands. "Okay, I'll tell Jeonghan. You book the tickets right now. We can call a cab and go back to the airport."

Seungkwan gives you comforting pats on the back. "Just promise me, in the future, if Mingyu were to ever try and make it work, you will accept it."

You stare up at Seungkwan, laughing. "Oh, Seungkwan, I know he won't... He's too busy to make the effort, but it was great to spend time with him again."

Seungkwan shakes his head. "No, promise me, please."

You nod. "Okay, I promise. Now go tell Jeonghan while I book us tickets."

Seungkwan gives you a supportive squeeze on your shoulder before heading out to find Jeonghan, leaving you alone with your thoughts as you quickly search for flights on your phone.

It was déjà vu.

"Please, Y/n, okay this time Mingyu's there, obviously, but can you please come?" Soonyoung begs with pleading eyes.

His voice is loud enough for nearby tables to stare at, so you shush him to lower his voice.

"I agree," Seungkwan says, assembling rice on lettuce. "You haven't attended our concerts in so long!"

"It's our first concert for the tour after our comeback!" Seokmin adds. "Don't you want to support your best friends?"

You shake your head at their eagerness. "God, this is peer pressure."

"You're coming, and it's final," Seungkwan concludes, waving you off so you agree.

"Fine, one concert." You decide it couldn't hurt.

"But," you raise your finger, "I don't want anyone to know I'm there, especially Mingyu."

Seokmin looks at you confused. "Why Mingyu?"

You didn't want to admit that you couldn't face Mingyu. Since the vacation, your buried feelings had opened up, but you knew everything would return to the way it was after the week. It was asking too much to expect anything to change after the trip.

"To be honest, I hoped something would happen for you and Mingyu after the vacation," Seokmin says. "I haven't seen him be himself, cheerful, until I saw him on the vacation, always smiling when he was near you."

You grow annoyed. "Guys, it's not that simple. We broke up because he was too busy and we both stopped putting in the effort. What changed?"

"He's changed. You know, eight months is enough for someone to change," Soonyoung insists.

Seokmin stares between you and Soonyoung, making sure he's not stepping over any boundaries. "We watched you both after the breakup. But we can assure you Mingyu's changed. Just talk to him once about it, instead of thinking of the 'what ifs'. That's all we ask."

Soonyoung takes your shot glass from your hold, gulping that down, too.

Seokmin and Soonyoung excuse themselves to the bathroom, leaving you and Seungkwan at the table.

Seungkwan turns to you, his voice gentle. "Y/n, you owe me one, remember?"

You nod, curious about what he wants.

"Come to our concert," he says softly. "I know it's hard, but you owe me, and I think it will help."

"Seungkwan, I don't know if I can face Mingyu," you admit.

"I know, but I also know that if you show up, Mingyu will try to make things right between you two. Just think about it, okay?"

You take a deep breath, contemplating his words. When Soonyoung and Seokmin return to the table, you make your decision.

"Fine, I'll go," you say, looking at them. "But I'm going to support you guys, not for Mingyu."

"Here's the VIP pass, by the way," Soonyoung pulls out a single pass from Seungkwan's bag pocket, sliding it across the table.

"How did you even know I would agree?"

9. YOUR EX WILL STILL IN LOVE WITH YOU, TOO

The concert was about to start, and you were heading to the VIP seats with Seungcheol because he wasn't performing due to his injury. Seungcheol was walking with you, chatting about the upcoming performance.

Suddenly, Mingyu runs over, a look of urgency on his face.

"Y/n, can we talk for a moment?" he asks, breathless.

Seungcheol nods, understanding the situation. "Go ahead, Y/n. We'll catch up later."

Mingyu takes your hand and leads you to a quieter area down the hallway.

"Y/n, you left the vacation early before I had a chance to talk to you," he begins, his voice trembling slightly. "I've been thinking a lot lately, and I realized how much I miss you. I miss us.”

Your heart skips a beat as you listen to his words.

"Mingyu, how will we work? You’re still so busy…" you start, remembering the reason the two of you broke up in the past.

"Please, Y/n, I will change, I have, and I will put in more effort into our relationship," he pleads, his eyes searching yours.

You feel a rush of emotions flood over you, memories of your time together flashing through your mind.

"I don't know, Mingyu," you say softly, torn between your heart and your head.

Mingyu takes a step closer to you, his gaze intense. "I understand if you need time to think about it. But just know that I'm willing to do whatever it takes."

Before you can respond, Mingyu presses a gentle kiss to your cheek, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

"I have to go," he says reluctantly, pulling away. "The concert is starting soon. But I'll talk to you after, okay?"

You nod, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside you.

Mingyu gives your hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go and heading off towards the stage.

As the concert approached its climax, the energy in the arena surged, filling the air with excitement and anticipation. You stood beside Seungcheol in the VIP section, caught up in the electrifying atmosphere of the event. The pounding bass reverberated through the stadium, matching the rhythm of your racing heart.

But amidst the exhilaration of the concert, your mind drifted back to the hallway encounter with Mingyu. His heartfelt confession lingered in your thoughts, leaving you torn between the past and the present.

"Y/n," Seungcheol suddenly began, his voice carrying a weight of solemnity. "I wasn’t going to interfere but after seeing two of my close friends hurting, I need to tell you something."

Your eyes are on him, waiting for his next words.

Taking a deep breath, Seungcheol continues, "After the breakup, I saw Mingyu at his lowest point. He wasn't himself during our comeback, but in Italy, he was different. Happier. And... I was the one who told him that you were coming. He dropped the fashion show, even though it wasn't canceled, and told Jeonghan to book his ticket."

With Seungcheol's secret laid bare before you, you felt a surge of emotions wash over you. Mingyu's heartfelt confession before echoed in your mind and you realized that despite the pain of the past, he was truly making efforts for your relationship.

“He did that for me?” You ask, and Seungcheol nods, staring down at his twelve friends on stage.

"Y/n," You suddenly hear from the stage, it is Mingyu's voice. The crowd quiets down, sensing the situation.

"Will you come back to me now?"

The question hangs in the air, suspend between you and Mingyu as the stadium erupts into cheers.

The jumbotron focuses on you and Seungcheol, trying to capture your answer to his question.

At that moment, surrounded by the energy of the crowd and the pulsing rhythm of the music, you knew what your answer was.

With a nod and a resounding "Yes!" that echoed through the arena, you made your decision.

As the notes for 'Aju Nice' fill the air, you feel a sense of happiness wash over you, knowing that you are finally back with Mingyu again.

The crowd erupted into cheers once more, their excitement echoing off the walls of the stadium.

Seungcheol is beside you, a knowing look in his eyes.

"I knew you two would find eventually your way back together," he says with a smile, both of you staring at Mingyu who jumps around with Seungkwan, Soonyoung, and Seokmin on the stage.

As you settle into your seat, surrounded by the sounds of the crowd and the anticipation of the performance, you can't help but wonder what would have happened if Mingyu had never gone to Italy. But for now, you're content to enjoy the music and the company of your friends, knowing that you have Mingyu, again.

10. YOU WILL GO BACK TO YOUR EX

new title: ten reasons to avoid go to italy.

taglist @christinewithluv @kokoiinuts @kimingyuslover @hobiiimingyu @gyuwoosbabie @btsvt-bar @hyuckcrush @junniesoleilkth @gaslysainz @callmemadhatter @tootheiass @softrnjn @chaoticstrawberryland @1010-oclock @writingbarnes @roguesthetic @tacosandbitch @minmangyu @iarayara @chaoticqueen18 @chuuubornpink @lolawlolawlol @ziyaexe @jaaannaaaaa @rarawrwonulover @kars-in-space13 @weirdoome @playgirlfabi <3

305 notes · View notes

ninyard · 3 days

Note

Hellooo i saw that you were asking for asks (that sounds funny) and I wanna know some of your hcs on Kevin and Allison being besties/ kevjean relationship

This is my chance to finally share some Allison/Kevin hcs so I'm gonna seize this opportunity with both hands and give you this total MESS of a brain dump

- Allison is the only fox that doesn't make fun of Kevin's eating habits. Kevin KNOWS his relationship with food is fucked up because of the nest and Allison knows it too, so she refuses to make bets or make fun of the way that he eats. Kevin only realised because she once tried to quietly tell Nicky to knock it off when he was pushing Kevin to have dessert or making fun of what he'd decided to have instead.

- Kevin also knows not to talk about the numbers or macros in front of her, too. They have a weird unspoken mutual respect RE: food and they both appreciate each others efforts on that front without ever actually mentioning it. they also have a gesture for each other that's code for "i want a snack do you have anything" and they'll throw each other protein bars if they're out/on a long bus journey etc.

- they are the BEST drinking buddies. Whenever the team starts drinking/partying/clubbing more together post-TKM, they are literally CHILDREN when they're drunk together. Kevin gets tired of the monsters being boring when they go out and there's only so much dancing he can do with just Nicky and Aaron alone. So Allison pulls him up to the bar one night to do a tequila shot, and they literally have the most unexpectedly fun night ever. Kevin loosens up a whole lot without the threat of Riko etc post tkm, and when I tell you he is such a fun drunk. now he doesn't really drink THAT much during the season but off-season? oh he's a party animal. I could write thousands of words about him and Allison getting drunk together and becoming literal best friends as soon as they have a drop of alcohol in their systems but here's some things I think they've done drunk

stole a shopping cart and sat in it as they pushed each other down the road in it (and fallen out of it and laughed so fucking hard) ((but were bruised up as fuck the next day because of it)

he's sat her on his shoulders - while dan sits on matt's - as the two girls try to push the other one off

he's really easily convinced to do things by her. another shot? sure. and another shot IMMEDIATELY after that? alrighty! karaoke? well, okay. jockeyback? stealing traffic cones? pulling pranks and fucking with the other foxes? acting like actual teenagers? okidokie!

she's probably the only person in the world who has successfully convinced kevin day to sing

he holds back her hair if she has to puke

she convinced him to let her do his makeup once. full glam. like a serious look, fully beat, full coverage look. there's a picture out there somewhere of it that she saves for blackmail.

fucked. make out sometimes. strip poker. they dance together :)

he never lets her walk alone anywhere when she's drunk. if she can't find one of the girls to accompany her to the bathroom at a party she'll take him.

she's taught him full dance routines

she was joking that there's no way the raven warmups could be that different to theirs, and bet him that she'd be able to do them without breaking a sweat (he won)

they've both ugly drunk cried in front of each other (but they never talk about that sober)

she's pretty light so he's bench pressed her before

- They know each others drink orders/favourite shots

- if Allison is out, say she's with her friends and not with the foxes, and she has to wait alone for a taxi or walk somewhere alone, she'll call him and he'll stay on the phone with her until she's safe

- They make fun of each other and bully each other like there's no tomorrow (affectionate). the whole "Allison hates Kevin" thing WAS true for a while, but once they get closer, she just pretends to hate him. he's like an annoying brother to her

- Allison is really easily frightened, and Kevin thinks it's funny to scare her. she's never safe walking around a corner or into a room if Kevin is there and in a good mood.

- they're not BEST FRIENDS. like they're not in each others pocket all the time and laughing and joking ALL THE TIME but she can read him like a book. she knows when he's having an off day, or thinking about something too much.

- She also knows when he's being serious and when not to joke around. She knows when he doesn't want cheering up or to joke about something and knows when to back off. The same with him - he knows when she's having a mood that requires being cheered up, or a mood that requires him to leave her the fuck alone.

- He's a big reason why she puts a whole lot more of herself into Exy post tkm. She's always been invested, but once they talk more, and they consider each other friends, she listens to him talking about Exy and it really clicks for her. his dedication. and also how fucking talented he really is. She doesn't do the night training with him but they'll occasionally go to the gym together or start practice a half an hour early to run some basic raven drills.

- They're iconic when they get together to do press after games. they bounce off each other like nothing else. they're just so funny. and he's also like andy murray in that he will ALWAYS defend her, dan, and renee's talent if interviewers start to focus more on him instead of the girls. he'll step in if an interviewer says something shitty or misogynistic. she LOVES directing objectifying and misogynistic questions his way.

- She calls him a bitch and makes fun of him for being a nepo baby. He calls her an asshole and makes fun of her for being a rich kid.

- Have gone to banquets as each others date.

that's just a few random thoughts off the top of my head but yes. Allison and Kevin. Literally the only Two Pretty Best Friends ever to exist.

#i know this might feel ooc for kevin but just think about it #first of all taking these as individual moments rather than a constant thing #they're not cuddling as besties and painting each others nails and talking about boys #or doing all of these things ALL THE TIME #like #maybe it's just me #but if Kevin loosened up a bit and let himself enjoy things a bit more #post-TKM #i really could see them being friends alright #hes gaining a lot of courage and the foxes are pretty united #so theyre going out more together #and he CAN drink to have fun #and Allison IS fun #and they have fun TOGETHER #okay! i have read some stuff recently about allison being hit or miss for some people #but i love her (even if it is an extension of her that ive made up in my head)#and i've pretty much based their entire hypothetical friendship off that part in tkm when they're in the cabins #and someone says she could sleep with kevin #and she makes a loud retching sound as if that's the grossest thing ever #(and unless you want to unleash the unhinged kevallison in me dont get me started on them hooking up fr)#allison reynolds #kevin day #aftg

73 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 days

Text

All In 9

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: Hellllllooooo 😁

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You can’t help but admire the books balanced in your lap. You’re overly aware of another set of eyes on you as you once more trace the title with your fingertips, not wanting to touch too much but simply unable to resist. It can’t be real. All the books you ever had come from the Goodwill or your grandmother’s closet.

Bucky leans into you, his proximity still sweltering to you. You glance over at him sheepishly as you grip the edges of the top book to hold them steady.

“Thank you,” you babble again, probably for the ten dozenth time.

“You like them, doll?”

“Yes, very much,” you push your shoulders up bashfully.

“See, doll, all I wanna see is you happy,” he intones, “you’re happy, aren’t you?”

“Sure, yes,” you stammer, “thank you.”

He chuckles, amused by your incessant thanks yous. He rubs your shoulder and grips it tight, pulling you closer.

“So, I made you happy,” he shifts his body slightly against the seat belt, “how are you going to make me happy?”

You blink and gulp, clutching the books tighter. You bite down as you stare at him. Oh.

“Can I tell you how?” He brings his fingertips up to pet your chin, “promise, it’s not too much.”

“Mm, okay,” you utter.

He grins and presses his thumb against your chin, “a kiss? Just one.”

You let out a wispy noise and barely keep the books from slipping away. What? You can't be entirely surprised, you have no illusions, well as little as you can have, about what he wants and yet it’s like you’ve been slammed into by a sixteen-wheeler. Your clamp your lips tight as your bat your eyes.

He considers you and his lips straighten, his dimples pitting beneath his beard, “you don’t want to?”

“Uh, no, it isn’t...” your bottom lip quivers and your voice quakes. “I just...”

You shudder and look at his mouth then his neck. You can’t look him in the face. Your whole body is alight and your heart is throbbing. How do you tell him the one thing you’re terrified to ever admit to anyone, though you’re certain they can see it clear enough.

“You just what?” His voice is grittier, deeper. It adds an extra beat to your heart.

“I never...” your eyes wander away, “I never kissed anyone. I’m sorry. I’m just... nervous. So I... I don’t know if I would be good.”

He hums and rubs your chin, turning your head to him. He moves his hand to cradle your entire jaw and your throat bobs once more. You can’t help but reach to his wrist, clasping around his silver watch as your other hand strains to keep hold of the books in your lap.

“Why wouldn’t you be any good, doll? Those lips can’t be anything but delicious.”

You squeak and squirm in the seat. A tingle flows up your spine and strangles you. Your lips open and close like a fish out of water, a fluttering breath escaping you.

“Doll, close your eyes,” he says.

You can’t argue. You can’t move. You can barely think. So you obey.

You shut your eyes and feel the heat around you stir. You can sense him leaning in and you stiffen as his breath glosses over you. He tilts your head up as his lips brush yours, his beard tickling your skin, and he presses firmly against you. You squeeze your eyes tight as he hums again and you let out a surprised squeak as his tongue pokes against your mouth.

He pulls back as the books fall out of your lap onto the floor. Your eyes flick open and you try to look down. He holds you in place and pushes you back against the seat.

“Forget them,” he urges as his hand stretches across your neck, “and open your mouth, doll.”

He leans in once more and you’re plastered against the seat by his weight and the seatbelt. His mouth covers yours again and you let your lips go slack as his tongue delves within. You let out a murmur around him and slap your hand against the suede as his hand moves under your ear, a perfect vee beneath your lobe. He groans as he keeps his tending firm but soft, drawing back with a nibble as he leaves your lips wet.

You sit there, eyes closed, puffing and trembling. He caresses your chin and purrs, “how was it, doll? Everything you expected and more?”

You force your eyes open and look at him, shrinking down as you reach for his arm and try to dislodge his hand, “wow... I...”

He smirks, “been a while since I left a lady breathless.”

“I’m... sorry.”

“Sorry?” He drags his touch along your jawline, “for what?”

“I... was I bad?” You ask.

He once more looms over you and you brace yourself. He kisses your forehead and slowly retracts his arm, “you are too good, doll. If I don’t stop myself...”

You look around, fluttering lashes, shaky hands, and slowly bend forward. You gather up the books and slowly sit back. You stare forward, stunned stupid as the feel of his lips lingers. It wasn’t bad, just new, a little bit scary. Just like his words.

What would happen if he didn’t stop himself? Could you stop him?

🃏

The car rolls through a gate topped with golden points. You peer up at the urban mansion. You’ve never been to this part of town. The towering homes and curated lawns make you feel tiny. More so than usual.

You fumble to undo your seatbelt as Merv opens the door. You slide out ahead of Bucky and he trails after, his hand on your back as he guides you up the stone walk to the front door. He punches in a code into the keypad and lets you in ahead of him.

As you enter, you smell maple and bacon. He stays close to you, directing you with a point over your shoulder. You enter a dining room, the large table only set for two. He takes the books from you and sets them aside on the corner table. You swallow tightly.

“My personal chef should be about done,” he pulls out a chair and looks back at you expectantly.

You scurry up and sit with a thank you. He tucks the chair in under you and takes the chair on the other side of the corner, still close. Before you can settle in, a woman appears with two stemmed glasses. She sets one down before each of you as Bucky nods in fleeting acknowledgement, though his blue eyes only twinkle in your direction.

“Smells good,” you chew your lip nervously and his gaze follows the gesture.

“Nothing but the best, doll,” he winks and sips from his glass.

You do the same, surprised by the bubbliness. There’s a slight tang to the orange juice you don’t expect. He’s still watching you, seemingly amused by the play of emotions on your face.

“What?” You give a brittle giggle.

“You,” he says, “it’s a mimosa...” he leans forward, “still tryna figure out what you like.”

“It’s nice. Sweet,” you look at the glass and take another drink.

“Mm, maybe something strawberry next time,” he suggests.

“Ooo,” you smile but stop yourself as you feel goofy.

You blow out between your lips, trying to expel the tension as his eyes stay stuck to you. His attention is flattering but no less intimidating. You were never one to be in the spot light. You peer around the room, admiring the modern but elegant decor.

“Your house is so nice,” you rub your hands together nervously. “Must be nice living here...”

“Eh, bit empty but not bad,” he says, “lonely.”

“Oh,” you turn back to him.

“Doll,” he pinches the stem of the glass, “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea here. I know I got a reputation, you probably read all about it online. But I’m a changed man... or trying to change.”

You lower your brow in confusion. It’s strange to have anyone, let alone him, explain themselves to you.

“You know, I was with a certain type for a long time but... nothing serious. No one like you.”

Oh, you know. Why would he be with someone like you? You don’t dare to ask the question.

“It’s... okay,” you stammer.

“I don’t know any other way to do this,” he sits back and pushes his hair away from his face, “I’m taking it slow but...” his chest rises and he exhales heavily, “I hope you know how into you I am.”

Your cheeks sting hotly and you can’t help but touch them. You avert your eyes, looking down, then cross your arms across your chest. You look at him and shrug.

“Why?”

He narrows his eyes and brushes his fingers along the trim of his beard. He puckers his lips thoughtfully.

“I didn’t know until I saw you,” he drops his hand, resting it against the table. “I don’t know, you just looked... sweet. A bit lost. But I meant what I said, the skirt was cute. Kinda hoped you’d wear it today.”

“Oh?” You let out apologetically.

“That’s okay, doll, wishful thinking,” he says, “can’t have everything I want at once. I’m learning that.” He sits forward, “you’re teaching me how.”

“I am?”

“Sure you are,” he smirks, “waiting on you, aren’t I?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” you twiddle your fingers nervously.

Before it can grow awkward, the same woman returns. She has a tray in her hands, large and spread with serving dishes. She leans it on the table and lays it all out; bacon, sausage, eggs, toast, french toast, waffles, pancakes. Everything you could dream of for a perfect breakfast buffet.

Your stomach grumbles loudly and Bucky tilts his head coyly. Did he hear that? You wait until the woman leaves to reach for your fork and knife, mirroring him as he does the same. He uses the tongs to put some bacon on his plate and offers you some. You take only one, it usually makes your stomach hurt.

“You’ll be waiting on me tomorrow,” he says, as he continues to serve himself. Each time, he adds some to your plate as well.

“I will?”

“Probably a long day for me. You’re gonna have to get into the night shift, doll,” he explains. “Business and all that tripe. I’d rather have you by my side later anyhow. I’m not much of a morning person. Besides, I’ll need something pretty on my arm at the casino.”

“Casino?” You echo.

“Sure thing, doll. I gotta keep a watch over what’s mine,” he insists.

“Right, er...” you look at your plate.

The idea of stepping back into the casino makes your insides jelly. It’s so crowded and bright and busy. And with him, the one person everyone will be watching. At least there are no cameras permitted on the floor.

“Just stick close,” he says, “shouldn’t be hard. I won’t let you get very far.”

He chuckles and you poke at the scrambled eggs. What do you wear? What do you do? Just follow him around like a duckling?

The woman returns, plaintive as she stands in the doorway. You glance over at her but Bucky keeps his attention on his food.

“Thea?” He calls to her.

“Sir, a package,” she declares.

“Ah, yes, bring it in,” he demands and bites into a sausage.

He chews and you opt to turn your focus to the growling in your stomach. You may as well enjoy what you can and you’ve never been shy of a good meal. You pour syrup onto the waffle and dust some icing sugar over it. He’s watching you, you peek up briefly to confirm it. You make your bites small and tidy. You wilt beneath his constant surveillance.

The woman, Thea, returns. Bucky waves her over as she carries a white box. He drops his fork and stands. You hover your cutlery over the plate and watch as he dismisses her with a curt nod.

“Please, enjoy,” he insists as he sets the box on the other side of the array of food.

You stick to your conservative progress, curiously watching him as he pops open the lid of the box. He looks inside and smiles. He goes back to his seat to retrieve his napkin and wipes his hands.

“How do you like them?” He pulls out a shirt, the edges scalloped around the bottom and neck, little purple hearts speckled all over.

“Pajamas?” You wonder aloud.

“Thought they’d be cute,” he smiles and drapes the shirt over the back of the chair in front of them, revealing the matching shorts. “You can take some pictures for me tonight.”

You nearly choke. You tried to forget that picture. Both of them. His and yours. Right then, you can only think of him in the towel.

“I’ll have it packed up with the books for you to take,” he puts the pajamas back in the box and closes the lid. “Let’s finish our food.”

“Uh, okay, thank you,” you stammer.

“Doll, it’s all just beginning,” he sits and reaches for his mimosa, holding it out. You take yours and he clinks your glass. “Here’s to us.”

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #casino au #mcu #marvel #all in #avengers #captain america #winter soldier

250 notes · View notes