#a loaded god complex cock it and pull it!

[bby-deerling]

sugar, we're going down (law x reader nsfw)

i'm horny for law, what else is new.

18+, nsfw, mdni, wc: 875 masterlist

cw: afab!fem!reader, oral sex (69), fingering, overstimulation if you squint, law dirty talking to you, devious backshots

tagging: @nina-ya (you have her to thank for this one! hehe), @eelnoise, @willowhaze26

When it came to giving rather than receiving, Law’s skills were a tad bit lacking—he wasn’t horrible at eating pussy, not by a long shot, but unless he was in the mood to keep you on edge for an unbearably long time until you’re a broken, begging mess, he tended to rely on his fingers.  He was precise, exacting, and overwhelming with them, brushing, rubbing, and scissoring them against the spot you craved them most until you fall apart for him, reduced to a limp pile of limbs at his disposal.

But as much as you loved Law’s fingers and the way they make you cream, right now you wanted his tongue, and had devised a plan to get it; unable to refuse the sinful sensation of you choking on his cock, he fell right into your web when you demurely asked him to 69 with you bright red blush on your face.

With your pussy smothering his face, he’d have no choice but to get you there with just his tongue…right?

A muffled moan escapes your lips and vibrates against his cock as two tattooed fingers suddenly slip inside you, wasting no time as they drag along your spongy spot; his other hand reaches around to rub lazy circles on your bud, and he lets out a soft chuckle when the friction causes your hips to wriggle in his grasp.

“Law…” you whine in protest, the tip of his cock leaving your mouth with a soft, lewd pop, “You’re supposed to be using your mouth!”

He exhales in amusement, mumbles out a soft tch, and fucks you harder with his fingers in response, smirking as he feels the heat in your cheeks radiate against his thigh.

“And you’re supposed to be using yours.” he teases, rolling his finger against your clit harder as he sinks his teeth into the soft, plush flesh of your ass.  The way he sucks at your skin makes you whimper, and the relief of his tongue running across the point of contact lets you know he’s left a bright maroon mark.  “Suck it or I’ll stop.” he warns, slowing down his fingers to illustrate his point. 

“That’s a good girl…fuck.” he whispers as you take him back into your mouth, your lips and chin brushing against the puddle of drool that had settled in the soft patch of hair surrounding his shaft with each bob of your head.  Law struggles to stay lucid as you scramble his brain with the way your tongue slides and swirls along his shaft and continues to work his magic with his fingers; he groans as your soft moans reverberate against him and the twitching of your walls lets him know you’re close.

“Feels good Law…” you mumble, mouth still full of his cock, hips squirming against him.  The sloppy squelches of your pussy as he fingers you makes your cheeks burn up and further tightens the growing knot in your stomach; you’re so wet and open for him, teetering on the edge of bliss.  He knows, he always does—he just wants to torture you, tease you, and keep you moaning with his cock deep in your throat for a few moments longer.

“Such a slut for my fingers…” he teases as he slips a third finger into your entrance; you squeak in shock as you adjust to the stretch, but Law gives you no mercy, deliberately massaging your spongy spot while increasing the pressure of his circles on your clit.

“Go ahead and cum for me,” he taunts, “I know you want to.”  He punctuates his statement with a bite to your inner thighs, and the sensation makes you let go; the sounds of you choking and drooling on his length while a flood of white hot heat washes over you are downright shameful, but Law eagerly downs every drop of ecstasy you put on display for him—the sight is almost too much for him to handle, nearly bringing him to the brink.

“Fuck… knock it off or I’ll cum.” he rasps, roughly yanking on a fistful of your hair to pull your soft lips off his cock.  He’s quick to pull his fingers out of you, making you whine as the aftershocks of your orgasm leave you pulsing around nothing.  Impatient and needy, he flips you onto the bed, shoves your face into the sheets, and grasps your hips so hard that you swear his fingers leave permanent indents in your flesh; his cock is cool, sticky, and covered with your spit as he slides into you effortlessly, leaving you both groaning upon feeling just how easy it was to slip his massive length into your needy pussy.

As he slams into you without abandon, determined to make you drool just as much on the sheets as you had on his cock, your mind is dizzy, blank, and empty—all that exists is the pleasure that has you twitching and grasping at the sheets, and the lewd slap of his balls against your sex with each punishing thrust; it’s almost enough to make you forget your entire purpose going into this.

It doesn’t matter you decide.

Besides, who cares about his tongue when he can fuck you this good?

[c---crow]

am i more than you bargained for yet?

[mikey-way-enthusiast]

me when i hear THOSE drums

i luv u sugar, we’re goin down 🧎🧎🧎 i actually need this song in my blood

[the-metatron]

And what ARE you going to become?

Isn't it obvious? God, of course.

[enoch-the-human]

Then I curse you with ingrown toenails!

-Friendly Neighborhood Demon

I don't have toenails.

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

I think if I was rating FOB songs based just on melody and not lyrics my top 5 would be Jet Pack Blues, Dark Alley, Bob Dylan, XO, and Don't You Know Who I Think I Am. wordplay/lyrically speaking though my top 5 are Hum Hallelujah, Love From the Other Side, Sugar, Disloyal Order, and Heaven Iowa

[solarflaretm]

the abyss turns your hair white with excessive use or because of how strong it runs through your system .

pierro originally had dark blue hair , almost black . but because he's been drawing power from the abyss for over a thousand years , his hair eventually turned white .

dainsleif had dark brown hair and is slowly lightening up over the years . at the moment it's blonde , but over time , it will also become white

kaeya has the first signs of abyss taking over his blood with the light blue streak in his hair . the rest of his hair will soon follow and become the same light blue until it turns white .

[nailgunstigmata]

listening to fob songs hearing macden fic titles and doing the leonardo dicaprio pointing thing

[vixey-chakraborty]

A Loaded God Complex & [Vixxen]

In which Vixey and Drakken have a long overdue conversation...[takes place: mid-January]

@dr-drckken

[tw -- argument, intimidation, physical intimidation, threats]

DRAKKEN: Drakken had been standing in the kitchen, trying to think of something to do that wasn’t walking up the steps to get to the attic. He’d been starving off the urge just to go do something ever since Vixey had confirmed she would be coming over. After what happened on Halloween, aka forgetting he had made plans with his girlfriend that had not included taking over the world, Drakken had vowed that he wouldn’t do that again. Forget about her, that was. It had been an oversight on his part due to the fact that he never thought he’d have to include a significant other in his plans until after he achieved his goal. If that. His current circumstances were far better, though, so he wasn’t going to mess it up by continuing to think that way. The mistake had been made and it would never be made again. 

Which was why he was staying out of the lab in the attic. He knew himself and he knew that if he talked himself into working on something, even if that was a little something, he would get stuck up there and probably not hear her knock or pay attention to his phone. 

So he stood in the kitchen with dishes he had cleaned and put away. With food he had made. With surfaces he had scrubbed clean. There was nothing left to do but wait and Drakken had never learned how to be idle.

…

Maybe if he just- 

The doorbell pinged. Thank goodness. 

He pushed himself away from the counter, stumbling over the change from tile to wood as he left the kitchen, but made it to the door in one piece. Drakken pulled it open, grinning at the sight of Vixey standing there. He motioned for her to come inside, backing up instead of meeting her in the middle. “How was your day?” 

VIXEY: Vixey was nervous.

Not about having a dinner/movie date with Drakken. That was fine. She was looking forward to it, but–she also wanted to…initiate…other things. 

They had been dating for almost six months and she felt ready. Which was a nice feeling. An exciting feeling. Vixey wasn’t the kind of girl who hyperfocused on sex, but that didn’t mean she didn’t like it! And things had been admittedly weird for her the last few years, after losing Charlie but now…it was nice to feel kind of like a girl again. Fumbling her way through. It was awkward and uncomfortable, but also a bit thrilling. 

Except–any time she’d tried so far, she’d been shut down. Not in so many words or anything. At first, she thought Drakken had just been wanting to go slow. Not rush things. Which Vixey was perfectly capable of! In fact, she had appreciated it. But now…it was starting to get a little weird. A little uncomfortable. And Vixey figured…she should just try to go for it.

Or they were going to have to do the adult thing and have a conversation. She was kind of hoping it didn’t get to that because Vixey would rather be doing than talking but…she could be mature about it…if she needed to be. 

Anyway, anyway–

Sex with her boyfriend was what was on her mind and she knocked on the door and then smiled at him as she bustled inside, shivering from the cold. 

“Good, boring.” Vixey placed her hand on his arm as she entered and leaned in to kiss his cheek in hello. “What about yours?” she asked as she started unwinding her scarf and hanging it up on the hook, her jacket and boots next. 

DRAKKEN: “Ugh, terrible,” he told her, slumping forward a little. “We have a lab tomorrow so instead of actually paying attention to me telling them everything they need to do for preparing for it, they think it’s a free day to just slack off. Which inevitably means that tomorrow they’re going to spend the first half of the class asking questions that I already answered for them yesterday and then the second half trying to cram everything in before the end of the period. Or they’ll just make data up and their report on it will be complete and utter nonsense.” 

Drakken shook his head, arms crossing over his chest as he was once again filled with frustration. Really, he shouldn’t have even cared at all. Why would he? He had no responsibilities to those brats. He had done his job and if they didn’t want to pay attention and blatantly try not to understand what was trying to be taught to them then they could go ahead and fail. Still, he was annoyed about it. Probably in the name of science. Or whatever. 

Then he caught sight of Vixey again and remembered that she was here and his brain got a shot of chemicals that diluted the bad with a whole lot of good. 

“I’m glad yours was good, though. What made it boring? Lack of people?” he asked, moving into the living room when she seemed to have everything off and settled by the door. 

VIXEY: Vixey chuckled as Drakken launched into a tirade about his students. She didn’t fault him for it. After all, when she’d been a nurse, she’d complained all the time in the exact same way about her patients. How they refused medicine or were far too fussy or needy. It didn’t mean she didn’t like her job. She just…needed to rant about it from time to time. Get it out, so she could go back the next day and give her patients the best care possible. 

It was probably the same with Drakken. She knew he cared about his students and them succeeding. 

The whole thing actually served to relax her a little more, quite frankly. It was just very normal and typical and reminded her that things weren’t such a big deal. They’d be fine, her and Drakken, once they figured out this next piece of their relationship. 

She was still a little nervous as she followed him into the living room, but she’d been here enough times to be familiar enough to flop onto the couch and sink into the cushions with a sigh.

“Yeah.” She picked at a loose thread and wrinkled her nose a bit. “I mean, we had a steady stream of customers and with the movie coming to town most likely, I am sure I’ll get an uptick.” She shrugged. She wasn’t super pleased about the movie, but she couldn’t deny that it might be a good financial move for the town as a whole. 

“Ugh, whatever. I really don’t wanna think about it. What’s for dinner?” 

DRAKKEN: He felt as though he had already known the answer Vixey was going to give him before she had even said it. Probably because she had said something to this effect ever since the first day he had come to help clean the shoppe after Halloween night. Not in the same way she had that day, when her emotions toward the place had been more on display and not hidden behind whatever it was that made her feel like she was bound to it. He could still hear it, though, peeking through. 

Sometimes he thought about some sort of scheme to buy it out from under her, or plant something in the shoppe that would have the town evict her so she could have an easy out. But he also knew that if he did that there was a chance she would feel the need to bring it back from the grave because she was too nice to let it die without her. 

It always made him want to say something. To tell her to stop wasting her time there if it was making her unhappy, but she would inevitably say something like she had now and distract him away from the topic. 

“Soup,” he said, then pointed at her as he walked toward the kitchen. “You stay there, I’ll get it for you.” 

When he returned it was with two sets of bowls, glasses of water, cutlery, and napkins. The only thing he had spilled was a bit of the broth onto his hand, which had hurt and he had made a sound to indicate so, by the time he made it back to set everything down on the coffee table in front of the sofa. 

VIXEY: While Drakken disappeared into the kitchen, Vixey reached for the remote, pulling up the streaming services and choosing Drakken’s profile. They were actually logged into some of them on Vixey’s account. Modern love: sharing your streaming platform passwords. She flicked idly through the different choices as she waited—

When she heard a yelp, she perked go. 

“Everything okay?” But Drakken didn’t respond. She just heard bustling again, so she relaxed. 

It was funny how relaxed she felt. The whole way over here, she’d been buzzing with nerves, but now she remembered: everything was mostly fine. They’d figure out what was going on. Vixey would find out Drakken’s needs, communicate her own. Then, they’d be back on the same page. Better for it, even! It’d be all fine. 

She smiled at him when he came back, sitting up. Black Panther 2 was pulled upon the screen. “I figured we could watch this? Al said it was good and I loved the first one,” she was saying as he hustled back in and set the food down. 

“Thank you,” she told him. It smelled delicious. “Are you okay? I thought I heard something.” 

DRAKKEN: Drakken stood up straight, wiping his hand off with the hem of his shirt, and squinting at the screen. He had never even heard of a first Black Panther let alone a sequel but he figured it couldn’t be terrible if the only good friend Vixey had given it praise and she had liked the other installment. And didn’t that guy own a store dedicated to selling movies or something?

“What?” he asked before his brain caught him up on what she had been saying. He turned, looking back down at her and then his expression opened up once more, “Oh, yeah, I’m fine. I just split some.”

He lifted his hand away from his shirt for proof. It was okay, the skin was just blotched with red. Drakken would never admit to being a clutz but that is what he was. “Happens all the time. Whether it’s in the kitchen or the lab.”

“Angela Bassett? Oh, then it must be good,” he said, taking his seat on the sofa now. His first exposure to her had been watching Waiting to Exhale with his mother and he could still remember the closet rampage scene.

VIXEY: Vixey frowned as Drakken showed her his hand, but it didn’t look too serious. She tried to suppress her nursing instinct, which demanded he walk back over to the sink and run it under room temperature water for a few minutes. Not that even looked like a proper burn. Just irritated. Besides, he probably didn’t want her fussing over him. So, she just pursed her lips a bit and clucked her tongue.

“Be careful,” she told him. She knew Drakken was a bit klutzy. She didn’t mind really, but it did concern her sometimes. Considering the turnip allergy. And the time at prom when he’d somehow managed to get concussed. Maybe it was a good thing she was a nurse. Ex-nurse.

“Oh, yes. She’s very good in the first one. I think she’s supposed to have an even bigger role in this one.” 

The credits rolled. The movie started. The soup drained from the bowls. The room darkened as the sun sank further and further away from them.

About halfway through the movie, Vixey leaned back into the couch. Ten minutes later, her heart thumping in her chest, she scooted a little closer to Drakken, put her hand on his thigh gently, rested her head on his shoulder. Held her breath. Told herself, if he didn’t move away, then it was all in her head and she was just being weird. Told herself, if he didn’t move away, maybe she could push her luck a little bit. Told herself: if he did pull away, then she was going to stop avoiding the issue and…say something. Do something. Talk about it. Like adults.

Ugh. She hoped he didn’t move away.

DRAKKEN: Drakken moved away. 

He had been completely absorbed by the movie at this point since he had finally seemed to work out everything that was going on that he had missed given that this was a sequel. And not only a sequel but a moving part in a bigger machine of movies that Drakken had never paid much attention to. Superhero movies? Pah, like they deserved his viewing when it was inevitable that the so called antagonist had a more sympathetic cause to back just a lack of context for the viewer to actually understand who they were. This movie had that, in Drakken’s opinion, except he was also enthralled by the technology of it all and the main character’s conflict with her scientific mind versus the pain of loss. 

It was very interesting, which was why he reacted so largely when he was yanked out of it by Vixey’s warm hand on his leg. His eyes unglued themself form the screen to peer down at it. He didn’t think there was any intention behind it, obviously they were in the middle of  watching a movie, why would there be? She was probably just getting comfortable, and he doubted she would be able to find that against his shoulder.

Drakken picked her hand up with his own, intertwining their fingers in what was probably more like a cage rather than a welcoming, and sat forward so that he could take a pillow that was caught between him and the arm of the chair. When he resettled, putting that distance she had just closed between them back into place, he held the pillow out in front of her in offering, not speaking so as not to miss anything. 

VIXEY: Okay…so…

It wasn’t in her head. Cool. 

Vixey couldn’t ignore the stab of hurt she felt as Drakken shifted away from her. Extremely obviously. She opened her mouth to say something but he handed her a pillow. The gesture was so off-putting that Vixey just took it automatically and held it close to her. 

There was a moment of silence, while Vixey just looked at Drakken, studying his face as he engrossed himself (whether that was real or fake, she couldn’t tell) in the movie. She didn’t want to say anything. She didn’t…

“Drakken…” She couldn’t not say anything.

He didn’t look at her.

“Drakken,” she said a little louder, a little clearer. Reaching forward, she paused the movie, looking at him in the blue glow of the television. “We need to talk.” 

DRAKKEN: His brow furrowed, head finally turning so he could pin Vixey with a bemused expression, about to ask her why she’d stopped the movie when she hit him with the age old We need to talk. 

Of course he had never had any first hand experience with that phrase, and especially not within a context of a romantic relationship, so the alarm bells did not go off in his head like maybe they should have. The only reason he thought she was serious was because of her tone. Drakken was a very oblivious person when it came to things that didn’t really matter to him, like people’s names or who the president of any given country was because one day they would cease to be relevant. 

But Vixey mattered. She mattered a lot, so like any scientist he had observed her and taken down all the information he could so he could come to conclusions later down the road. Like now, when she was using that tone of voice and looking at him like that and saying that they needed to talk. He didn’t take it to be anything life altering, anything that couldn’t wait, and was half annoyed that she hadn’t wanted to talk before the movie had started but wasn’t going to say that. 

“Okay,” he said, eyes cutting to the side and then back to her, hand gesturing for her to continue. “What about?” 

VIXEY: Right, well--no going back now.

It would be a good thing, she told herself. They’d clear the air. It was probably just a misunderstanding. Or there was something in Drakken’s past that made physical connection difficult for him. Or, maybe, he just wasn’t interested in those sorts of things--physical forms of affection, kissing, sex. It was fine if that was the case but…Vixey hoped not, because she knew herself well enough to know that those sorts of things did matter to her in a relationship. 

But--

She was getting ahead of herself. 

Now that they were here, she thought she was so silly for thinking she could’ve just thrown herself at him tonight and this all would’ve gone away. 

Instead, she sat up a little, turning to bring one of her legs up onto the couch so she was facing him properly. She reached out to touch his thigh again, just placing her hand there as a point of connection than anything else.

She felt his muscle twitch beneath her fingers.

“I want to talk about this…” Her gaze trailed down to her hand then back up to his face. “Sometimes…well, I’d--like to kiss you. I would like to do more than kiss you but every time I’ve tried to initiate something, you’ve pulled away. I thought it might be nerves or wanting to take things slow because of…everything.” Charlie. Their friendship. “But, it hasn’t gotten any better and…it’s starting to hurt my feelings. So.”

She took a deep breath. “I thought we should talk about it. Instead of me just making up things in my head to try and explain it away.” 

DRAKKEN: He had not seen this coming at all and it took him a second, brain having to switch over from weird but interesting movie to my girlfriend wants to kiss me and then some. The expression on his face was nothing short of gobsmacked.

His first instinct, which was more of a learned response actually, was to defend himself and deny, deny, deny. All he had to do was turn the situation back around on her and keep himself out of the crosshairs. “I didn’t- I didn’t know. Why didn’t you say anything before it started to make you feel bad?”

As soon as he said it, he regretted it but that hadn’t meant that his need to protect himself had outweighed the want to protect her first. To himself he was rationalizing that he was, actually, keeping her safe. But that wasn’t true. He knew the real reason he was always the one stepping back when she stepped forward, and believe it or not, it wasn’t because he was a criminal. It was something he kept close to the chest.

Literally.

It would have been very easy to ball up Vixey’s offered proposal and throw it back at her. He would have done it with anyone else.

“I’m sorry. I never want to hurt your feelings,” was what he found himself saying instead. He grew nervous now, feeling like he had finally been backed into a corner he had never thought he would be in and didn’t have an escape plan for. Drakken looked down at her hand on his leg.

“It’s not…it’s not that I don’t want to. It’s that-. It’s that-...It’s-” A sound of frustration left him, his useless tongue disobeying him as it continued to listen to his body rather than his mind, still wanting to protect itself. Drakken sighed. Fine, if he still needed evidence, then he would get it.

“Vixey, I need to know how you feel about me before I say anything further.” His gaze shot up to meet hers. “Be honest.”

VIXEY: Drakken lashed out and while it hurt, Vixey didn’t say anything. She just took a deep breath. She knew Drakken well enough to know that he was going to get defensive. Vixey didn’t blame him necessarily. It was a common response to learning that you had hurt someone. Not even Vixey was above it. And she did feel bad, maybe she should have worded it better, but she was hurt and that had made her words more clumsy than they might be normally. 

So, she let him splutter and then, she waited, watching him as his shoulders relaxed a little. Her lips twtiched up in a comforting smile as she watched him think about what he might say next.

In the silence, Vixey had run through a thousand scenarios. Wondering if he really was just…not attracted to her. Maybe he really did just want to be friends but Vixey had run full steam ahead into this. But, no, she knew that wasn’t true. They’d talked about this. They’d both been rather rational. She knew that he cared about her. He showed it to her all the time. Just not--physically.

And then, her nurse brain kicked in. She wondered if it was something from his childhood. Vixey had picked up that he hadn’t had a great one. That it was perhaps lonely, isolated. That Drakken had maybe not had a lot of friends…but, maybe it was worse than that. Maybe something had happened that made him feel unsafe or too vulnerable. 

The thought made her heart clench and she suddenly felt very silly for being so hurt. This could have nothing to do with her. Well, Drakken had been so good to her about all her problems. Listening to her. Being patient. She could do that for him too.

The question caught her off guard and it showed on her face as she blinked and then blushed, ducking her head somewhat. A little laugh escaped, butterflies from her stomach fluttering off in the sound. She squeezed his thigh. This wasn’t where she had seen this conversation going, but she wasn’t afraid to say it. She knew how she felt. 

“I care about you, Drakken. Benjamin.” She looked up, meeting his gaze. Her heart was beating so loud that she could hear it in her ears. It had been such a long time since she’d felt this way. Maybe she never had. Things had been so much different with Charlie. At first, she had thought maybe that was a bad thing, but she didn’t think so anymore. It was just different. The feeling was still strong, though, she was still sure of it. 

“I want to care about you more, but I feel like--there is so much I don’t know. So much…we haven’t talked about. I can…feel myself really falling for you. I think we’re good together. I appreciate you and I want to keep you in my life, even if you don’t want to--be physical or can’t be. You’re important to me.” 

DRAKKEN: While she answered he didn’t move, barely blinked, was simply observing. Then he breathed, body decompressing as if those words were a keycode she had punched in to unlock the door. It may have looked like relief or it may have looked like what it was, fear. 

He knew she meant that and this wasn’t some ploy or oddly long joke. It couldn’t be. 

So it meant the only thing he had been holding against her this whole entire time, the thing that he hadn’t given out to anyone since Sarina. The person he employed to both do the heavy lifting and keep him from harm, and had proven to be worthy of it several times over. Though he would never admit that to her. Then again, he didn’t really have to. 

Here, he did. Here, he would. Because Vixey did and so would Drakken now that he knew for sure. The evidence was right there, in her words and in the way she was looking at him. Finally his mind and body seemed to have an understanding of one another and this situation they were faced with. Vixey could be trusted with this and he knew she wasn’t going to laugh at him. At least, not in the way that everyone else he thought cared about him had. 

Drakken smiled, eyes flickering over her face with a new sense of adoration, feeling giddy. “I know! I know, and I’m going to fix that. You’re very important to me, too, Vixey, probably the most important! Er, don’t tell mother I said that. And-and I do! Want to, that is. But I’ve been keeping something from you because…well there’s a lot of reasons but mostly I just didn’t want to freak you out!”

He shook his head, raising a hand to keep her from saying anything. A little noise of finality left him as he got his train of thought on the correct track for this. “I’m getting ahead of myself. I need to tell you a story. Funny story- well, not funny haha, but! It was a Tuesday. I was doing an experiment after…oh maybe 49 hours of not sleeping, which at the time wasn’t all that difficult seeing as I was 18. 

“I was trying to create a substance that could be administered as a gas and then solidify within only a few seconds. One of my tests didn’t go as planned, I got the mixture incorrect and it exploded. Right in front of me. That’s how I got this,” he said, then pointed to the scar under his left eye, running under the socket and just above the cheekbone. Where a pair of glasses would have sat. Drakken hesitated before the hand he was using fell, and touched his chest. “And another. The substance that had been left behind after the addition of the heat, the majority of it got embedded in my chest and over time it multiplied. As a result, apart from the major scarring from both the wound and the resulting surgery, I’m blue.” 

VIXEY: Vixey felt the relief as Drakken spoke, reassuring her that it was all in her head. The fact he might not like her, that was. That she might’ve pushed him into a relationship when he really just wanted to be friends. But no, she should’ve known just to ask. Drakken was closed off and didn’t open up easily, but he never lied to her. If she asked, he always answered. She appreciated that about him. It didn’t have to be a guessing game. Vixey had just…she wasn’t sure—maybe it was her who had been a bit too timid? 

Who had been okay with the way things had been going, until she suddenly wasn’t anymore. And that wasn’t Drakken’s fault. They both had a lot of baggage, that was clear enough. Vixey with Charlie. Drakken with…his childhood? Whatever was going on. 

But, they were getting back on the same page now. She was glad he said what he did (the most important), before he launched into his tale. It let her listen with an open mind, with no more worry or anxiety. Or, well, about their relationship anyway. When it came to what he was about to say…she was still a bit wary about that. If only because it sounded very serious. 

She listened quietly. Smiling a little, imagining young, brilliant Drakken at his experiments. She was a science person too, though these days it was hard to picture maybe. It wasn’t hard to picture Drakken, though. She wondered, vaguely, why his mother had let him around such clearly dangerous ingredients. That wasn’t the point, though. It wasn’t important.  

Her eyes fell onto his scar as he mentioned it, a split second before he explained—anticipating it. She’d always wondered what had happened, though obviously she wasn’t going to ask. 

She frowned, her gaze following his hand to his chest. It sounded horrible. She wasn’t worried about any scarring. That’d be silly, though…she was a bit curious, lingering on the spot Drakken indicated before looking back up at him. 

Blue, he’d said. I’m blue.

Vixey had a feeling he wasn’t being hyperbolic. But it was still such a strange thing to say. A strange phenomenon in general. 

“I am sorry that happened. I am glad you’re okay. And I don’t mind about any scarring,” she told him after a money of searching his gaze. She could tell he was worried about telling her. Did he really think some sort of physical scarring or malformation was going to put her off? She supposed it was nice to have a heads up, so she wasn’t surprised if and when she saw him with his shirt off but—it didn’t matter, that she was confident of. 

“And I don’t mind about you…being blue either.” At least, she didn’t think she did… “I just—is it okay if I ask you…what you mean by that? Did your skin get…stained in certain places or…?” She knew that could happen. If you stabbed yourself with a led pen, the spot became gray and never really went away. And scar tissue could be all sorts of colors: red, pink, white, yellow…maybe even blue. Her own scientific, nursing brain started rolling through the possibilities as she waited for his explanation. 

DRAKKEN: This both exhilarating and terrifying to be discussing with someone in an actual conversation rather than them breaking off into bits of giggles and laughter. Even his doctor, who he had gone to after tracking the blue’s growing trajectory over the pigment of his skin, had not been able to keep it together. He knew it was outlandish but still, he couldn’t even ask the professional in the situation to be steady when his whole self image was falling apart? That’s when he had taken it upon himself to just embrace it instead. 

Until he had gotten out of jail and had needed to get out of the country. Only then had it occurred to him that being blue made it far too easy for the authorities to pick him out of any line up. That they wouldn’t even need a line up! 

“Yes, yes, you can ask me anything,” he said, flippant, like it was almost annoying of her to check in. “But, no, it’s not just in certain places. It’s everywhere. Or, it would be, but I managed to create a solution for myself, since no medical professional would actually help me in that regard. It can keep the cells that produce the melanin from making it blue, so long as I continue to take it in the given time frames. Especially after a long time in the sun. It’s why I’m not right now.”

And, yes, there was plenty of pride and ego infused with this explanation of dosing himself with his own homemade drugs. Drakken thought it would impress her. She’d been a nurse, after all, wouldn’t she think some form of self medication to be brilliant? 

“But the initial point of impact is always blue since the amount of the medicine I would need to take to get that to go away would probably kill me. It’s just a theory, but not one I’ve been willing to test,” he said with a touch of frustration at himself. Then Drakken sat up, thinking it probably best now to show her. For evidence, of course. To let her know that he wasn’t just talking nonsense. “Here.” 

His fingers worked quickly over the buttons of his shirt, one by one they came apart until he could shrug it off his shoulders. Then he reached behind to grab the collar of the undershirt where it sat at the back of his neck, pulling it up and over his head, so he could put both shirts to rest over the arm of the chair. Drakken turned back to Vixey, shoulders pulled back, to show her what exactly he was referring to. 

There was a series of scars that littered his skin, most of them having faded since they were the result of glass or metal being embedded from the explosion and had been removed. Those were merely raised, almost blended into the otherwise natural color of his skin, just paler in comparison. The noticeable ones were closer to the center, raised and much more noticeable, but not as much as the one from the surgery itself. It ran from near the top of his sternum between the clavicles all the way to the bottom of it, as the thing had shattered in the middle from taking the brunt of the impact and they had needed to get inside to remove anything dangerous and to wire the bone back together so it would heal properly. The tissue itself was blue and since this was nearing the end of the day, when he had yet to take more medicine since the morning, the color was spreading a few inches out. Enough to be down his stomach and reaching off toward the anterior axillary lines on either side.   

VIXEY: Vixey didn’t take offense to him being a bit dismissive of her asking. He was probably flustered and defensive, she understood. She could see this was something he kept closely guarded. That he was insecure about. She understood that too. How it could be something that would make you feel…embarrassed. Vixey honestly didn’t know how she’d feel about it, once she saw it properly, but she told herself it wouldn’t matter. Drakken was still Drakken.

It wasn’t like he’d revealed himself to be a dangerous Magick. She didn’t know if she could handle something like that. But a bit of blue skin? A bit of strangeness? Unconventionality? She thought she should be fine to handle something like that. 

She was going to ask if he was sure the medicine was safe--the nurse in her kicking in and suddenly growing concerned but…

Drakken started unbuttoning his shirt and so she didn’t say anything and she didn’t try to stop him. She couldn’t help that she was curious. Besides, she wanted to prove that it didn’t bother her. To him. And also to herself. Plus, this had been the whole point of this conversation, eh? Getting Drakken out of his clothes. 

Not exactly how she’d imagined it but--oh well. 

When he tugged off his undershirt and turned back to her, she couldn’t help but suck in an audible breath through her teeth. Not because it surprised her or anything, but just because it looked like it hurt. It was a sound of sympathy, her brow twisting the same way her stomach did at the thought of what it must’ve been like when it happened. She could imagine having seen a boy eighteen year old boy wheeled into the hospital with such a ghastly wound. The knotted scar tissue told the story. 

The more she looked at it the more she could see that story--the pieces that had been smaller, easier to get out. The pieces that had been embedded. The difference between the surgical scars and the stitches. And, more than all of that: the blue.

Vixey reached up a hand and touched the edge of the blue, near his ribs. Her fingers traced up softly and her gaze moved to Drakken’s face. 

“I am glad you showed me,” she told him with a little smile. She leaned in a little, waiting to see if he’d pull away. When he didn’t, she closed the distance and kissed him softly. 

“You know,” she said, when she pulled away. “There is a god with blue skin. Vishnu. The creator and protector of the universe. He is one of the most powerful and important gods in Hinduism.” 

 DRAKKEN: He gave a little huff at the feeling of her hand against his skin and then tried to cover it up by clearing his throat. The last thing he needed was Vixey also realizing he was ticklish in a moment like this. Talk about embarrassing. 

His eyes never left her face, trying to gauge her reaction and what she was thinking. More importantly he was waiting, as patiently as someone with a fuse as short as Drakken’s was, for her to say something! About the incident, to ask another question, to pay some sort of compliment to the way he had been able to bypass the medical and pharmaceutical companies that ran the world these days…something! At his side, his fingers drummed against the couch cushion. The skin on his arms had started to rise with goose bumps. He attributed it to the cold instead of the way Vixey’s fingers were moving across his skin. 

Skin that had not been touched by anyone but his own hands since he had left the doctors office for the last time, vowing to take matters into his own hands. 

Finally, when she did say something, it wasn’t what he expected. Neither was the kiss. But this kiss he allowed himself to press forwards into it, something he had not done with as much enthusiasm since the first kisses they had shared in the rain and mud and electrically charged air from the lightning that kept striking down around them that evening. Not what he expected but what he needed. The fidgeting hand lifted to cup her face, fingers brushing against her hair. 

Drakken let her pull away, eyes now hyper focused on her mouth in the way he had always caught himself doing and had to tear away before he allowed himself to think about it, her, for too long. It didn’t matter anymore, though, those restraints were no longer necessary. He fully believed that Vixey was the one for him, that he could be any measure of honest and vulnerable with her and there would be nothing but welcoming affection waiting for him on the other side. 

This is what spurred him on. This toxic cocktail that had been poured together there in the living room, of the care and acceptance, the gentle touch of her lips or hand or eyes against his person, and the additional boost to the ego, made him feel like he could finally be entirely himself with her. Something he never was with anyone else besides himself. 

“I’m glad I did, too,” he grinned, the edges of it taking on a looser quality. The grip his hand had on her face went from gentle, barely there, to very present. His fingers curled a bit too tight, not enough to hurt but to press into her skin before he was letting her go so he could articulate with it as he spoke. “But there’s more I need to tell you! So much more! I don’t even know where to begin! I’ve never had to outside of when I have someone hostage or something, but that’s more for intimidation rather than informative-” 

Drakken pushed himself up from the couch, reaching back for his undershirt to pull it on. He was talking under it, words muffled as his arms struggled to find the proper outlet. Eventually his head popped out, “-cked me for my ideas! Everywhere I went, be it the teachers in high school or my very own peers. I know it was because they were annoyed that a mere 12 year old was doing circles around them. Then I went to college, you see, and I thought I had finally found my people! My posse. Friends. But no, they laughed at me, too. They called me crazy, called my ideas ridiculous! Well they were ridiculous, all wanting to go meagerly into the workforce with nothing to show for themselves or their names. 

“So I wanted to show them that I am a genius! Because I am! I’ve proven that to you countless times, I mean who else would have been able to fix that horrible sprinkler system your family has other than me?” He had taken to pacing now, back and forth in front of the television that was languidly showing the resting screen. Drakken smiled at her as he spoke, stopping right in front of her so he could drop down to his haunches and take her hands in his. He squeezed in what some would call enthusiastic. Others would call it scary. “And I will show them. I have plans, I’ve been working on it since I left school, but I’m getting closer! Everyday I get closer! Soon I’ll be able to take over the world and prove to everyone who ever dared laugh at me that I, Dr. Drakken, am better than them!”  

VIXEY: Vixey smiled at Drakken’s touch and his enthusiasm, her whole body tingled in the aftermath of the kiss. His hand was warm, fingers callous against her cheek. This was what she had been wanting and waiting for this whole time. It felt perfect. She felt happier than she had in a very long time. For just a moment, she could see a future with Drakken rolling out in front of her. The energy had shifted, she felt it. Drakken’s walls had finally come down and now she was going to get to see the man behind them. The one that she had only managed glimpses of until now. And she felt her own affection for him reciprocated, totally. The way she hadn’t for the last few months. It was a nice feeling. Electric, in its way. She had missed it. Or, maybe, she’d never felt it before. How she felt for Drakken was very different than how she’d felt from Charlie. It was a good feeling, though. She could relax now and enjoy this relationship the way she’d been wanting to. 

This was what she had been hoping for. Now, her friends would be able to see what she saw and they could move forward in a productive way…

She laughed as he grew more animated, the floodgates apparently having opened. It was exciting to watch. Seeing Drakken come alive in a way she’d seen him do before when he was ranting, of course, but now it was all affection and excitement. 

“Wait--what,” Vixey said as Drakken pushed up off the couch. 

Had he just said hostage?

Vixey felt like she’d just missed a step on the stairs. Or she was following an entirely different script. Hers had a page ripped out of it. What had just happened? 

She had misheard. Obviously. Or--he meant it metaphorically. Holding someone hostage while he ranted sounded like a very Drakken thing to do…

Again, she laughed, though, this time a little more uncomfortable, trying to shake off whatever that was, as she watched him struggle with his shirt. She turned on the couch so she could watch him better. At first, she frowned a little, hearing him recount his childhood. Of course, she did know that Drakken was smart. Wicked smart. He’d proven it to her over and over. She liked it about him. Intelligent men were sexy, in her opinion. But, it was horrible that people had treated him poorly because of…jealousy or their own insecurities and that it had affected Drakken so much.

She opened her mouth to say something, but Drakken just kept going…

And suddenly, it felt like Vixey was sinking down into mud. She felt nervous. Like Drakken had just yanked the steering wheel into oncoming traffic with no regard for her safety. She didn’t know what it was--why that dread was suddenly dripping down her spine as she tracked Drakken pacing back and forth over the floor. Maybe it was the slightly manic look in his eye. Or the clear anger with which he was speaking, disguised as something triumphant but--

When he knelt down in front of her again, Vixey suddenly felt as if she was looking at a different person. It wasn’t the blue that had done it at all…but all the rest. 

He grabbed her hands, crushing the bones and ligaments together and making her wince, but she smiled too, trying to sort out her thoughts. He had just thrown a lot at her and she wasn’t sure where it was heading or what he was talking about.

Until he spelled it out for her.

“What?” Vixey said, her brow furrowing again at him, her gaze searching his. “Drakken, what are you talking about?” She tried to pull her hands away. 

DRAKKEN: His smile diminished at feeling her pull away but only a little. He knew it was a lot to take in! After all this time lying to her about being a simple high school teacher or whatever, he knew! All she would need was to process the information, to see that he was better than the person he had told her he was. That he was actually quite worthy of this god of hers she had compared him to. 

Her reaction was not quite what he had been hoping for out of the gate but it was also what he had been expecting. A bit of hesitation, a bit of confusion, but he didn’t doubt her. Not anymore. She was better than anyone he had ever come across! She had said that she cared about him and, further more, she had meant it. So much so that she had been willing to accept that he was blue. Torn apart, put back together, and stained a color that was not natural. She had taken that very easily! Now all she had to do was understand him completely. Drakken knew she could, that she wanted to even! 

This was what she had asked of him, after all. That want to know him better? This was it. This was him.

Drakken let her hands go in favor of placing his hands on her shoulders, thumbs running over the fabric of her shirt. “I’m talking about the things that we haven’t talked about! The things that need to be put on the table in order for us to move forward with- with us. I’ve always known you were quite perceptive when it came to emotions, that much became clear not long after I had met you. And I never imagined that anyone would care enough to know mine as well as you have! I mean you worked out that I was holding something back from you, even after all this time, all that I’ve already shared. 

“Really, Vixey, I know you find yourself bored at that shop of yours, and I don’t blame you. That’s how I was, too. But now that you know, I can open far more doors for you. Doors that I doubt you even knew existed. Not to mention, with your people skills? My brilliance? We’d be- how do people in the media put it? Mighty Duos? Thew Duplets?” Drakken frowned at himself, pulling his hands away from her person completely to place one on his chin, sitting back on his heels. Then he waved it, shaking his head. 

“It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that you’d be at my side! I didn’t think it was possible before but I know now. My attempts haven’t been fruitful in the past, obviously, and I have been worrying that since entering a relationship with you that my focus has not been where it needs to be but now that you know, that you understand, I won’t have to hide anything from you anymore! It’s such a relief!” 

VIXEY: Drakken was serious. 

He was talking like some mad supervillain on television. The whole thing was so surreal. She just wanted to wake up. This was just a bad dream, brought on by her sorry that Drakken was holding back or didn’t care about her. And maybe her own commitment issues…

But all of this was too real. Vixey never dreamed with this much detail. That expression on Drakken’s face was one she’d never seen before. Bright and feverish with ambition. Any other time she might find that sort of thing attractive but—

How could she when he was talking about taking over the world. Hurting people. 

Her stomach twisted in a knot as something inside her asked: am I in danger? Her heart skipped a beat, then picked up in double time. She needed to consider this carefully. As much as she wanted to just leave. To get away and clear her head…she suddenly didn’t know what she was dealing with. Who she was dealing with. The heart break could come later. Right now, she needed to get out of here. 

“Drakken, I—what you’re talking about…it will hurt people,” she tried to reason with him. “I-I can’t be part of that. I took an oath.” Okay, maybe the Hippocratic Oath didn’t exactly apply here, but maybe she could appeal to his logical, scientific sensibility. 

“You don’t—we don’t have to do this. Can’t we just be happy with our little…corner of things? That’s all I want.” Tears filled her eyes. It was all she had wanted. Now, she didn’t think there would be any coming back from this. 

DRAKKEN: With that his smile grew smaller, the edges of it turning warmer and all of it to do with the affection he had for the woman sitting in front of him. Always so kind, thinking of others. It was admirable that she chose to cling to that notion but Drakken knew better. 

“Sure, but it won’t be anyone who didn’t deserve it. It’s not like I’m- I mean I won’t be hurting anyone whose, I don’t know, hanging around in their suburban life and going ideally on. Besides, it isn’t like people aren’t getting hurt everyday by the people that run the world anyway!” he dismissed. His belief in her acceptance of him had not yet diminished. Drakken knew she was just getting used to the idea and that he could convince her. It wouldn’t be difficult. 

“You can even help those people if you want, we’d have the resources at that point since all the people at the top would fork them over,” Drakken said and chuckled at the thought of it. The big wigs could all be thrown to the bottom for all he cared. Then the people who had wronged him in life would get to see him at the very tip top. With a girlfriend, even. 

Huh. He’d never thought about that.  Getting to prove his genius and show that he had a girlfriend? All the better since his robot dates he had constructed for his friends, now enemies, had been the point of  the breakage between them all. Or rather, the point they had decided to show their true selves to him. Drakken would be able to rub being the ruler of  the world in their face and having a beautiful woman who cared about him at his side! This made him all the more excited. 

“You’re not thinking about the bigger picture! After I’ve got the world at their knees we can have any corner of it! You can choose,” he told her. “You won’t have to be stuck anymore! You’ll be able to do whatever you want. I promise!” 

VIXEY: “That’s not the point, Drakken! You’d be just as bad as any of those other men!” Vixey got up off the couch now, if only to put distance between them. She didn’t want to look at his face, at that soft sweet smile that under any other circumstance would melt her like butter. 

But how could she when he was talking like this? Trying to…implement her in this? 

Her hands were shaking as she ran a hand through her hair. Adrenaline was coursing through her, still feeling on high alert. Like she was suddenly in a room with a stranger and not--her boyfriend of six months. She was still reeling from this turn around. Maybe that was why she was still here. There was a part of her that didn’t believe it. 

Maybe she could still convince him. 

“Does it still matter so much?” she tried. It was her last ditch effort before she ran out the bloody door and never looked back. And if not for herself…maybe for the whole world. Because who knew what the hell Drakken had stashed in his lab. Some sort of unstable experiment? Something truly dangerous? What if he really was close to something…

Vixey forced herself to take a step closer, her hands on Drakken’s chest, petting there gently. “You’ve got me now. Your--friends here. Isn’t that enough? You don’t need the whole world. W-we have this corner of it.” 

DRAKKEN: Drakken continued to sit there after Vixey had stood, eyes on the place she had once been as he tried to understand why she didn’t understand. Finally, using the couch to press himself up, he stood, too and turned to face her. He let her speak, not interrupting, and watched as she came closer. 

He didn’t get it. Why was she trying to convince him against this? Weren’t people in relationships supposed to support the other person’s goals and dreams? And this had been his for…for years now! All for, what? For her? His friends? He didn’t have any friends. Not really. He never had. That was the whole reason he had thought of this solution to his problems. The ultimate solution to any problem. 

“Of course it matters,” he said, voice taking on an edge now. That confidence he had in her had started to crack. The longer she resisted, the more she tried to argue, the more it began to spread. Like a spider’s web weaving along the surface, fracturing. “What I need is to prove myself to anyone who ever thought I was incapable. To show them that they were wrong about me and to let them know that I was smarter than them this whole time.” 

His hand came up to press over one of hers on his chest, holding it there in place. He searched her eyes, brow slowly knitting together at what he thought he saw in her face. Suddenly his grip on her grew tighter again. This time it was not with the intent to comfort or because he was over excited, not taking account of his strength. 

This time it was to hold her in place. 

“Do you not think I can do it?” 

VIXEY: Drakken sounded insane. 

Vixey tried to stay away from that word. She knew the connotations. Knew it was bad to say or think about people but she meant it honestly: he was clinically insane. He was so consumed by vengeance, by feeling slighted by people that he was…literally delusional. 

She started to cry, feeling her heart splitting into pieces. If Drakken’s confidence was the web, she was the fly caught in it. Her heart was pounding now as his hand enclosed around hers. Again, he squeezed and she winced. This time, though, on instinct, she tried to pull away. Drakken kept ahold of her.

“Drakken, let go of me,” she tried to say firmly but her voice was wobbling. 

“I-it has nothing to do with whether I think you can do it. You--you shouldn’t do it. I don’t want you to do it.” The tears fell, hot down her cheeks. “I don’t want to be part of it.” 

DRAKKEN: The first “No,” came out softly on an exhale of breath, like she had struck him. It felt like she had. It felt like she had done worse. Familiar yet foreign was the sting of betrayal on his heart, so long had it been since he had let anyone close enough to cause such a fatal blow. He had let her in for barely a blink of an eye and there she was, having done the most damage than anyone he could remember. 

Probably because he had fully believed her incapable of hurting him let alone to do it on purpose. 

The second “No,” came out louder. It was followed by the rapid fire of the third, fourth, and fifth, a little shake of his head was the sixth. These were in mourning, in despair. 

His hand slipped down hers, fingers wrapping around her wrist, holding it away from him as if she held a knife between her own and he was trying to keep her from using it again. 

“You’re just like them! You’re exactly like everyone else. I thought you were different! I thought you cared about me! Believed in me! I thought we-!” Drakken stopped, shoulders settling as he let out a rattling breath. His jaw became tight, warm eyes turning to steel with a glare. It might have even been intimidating had they not also been watery, tears threatening to leak from the corners. “Fine. When the time comes, you can be among the rest who doubted me.” 

Using her wrist he pulled her a touch closer so he could loom over her. The sight of her tears were able to still cut through to him, causing more pain to already brutally severed edges that had been pulled apart. It managed to make his expression fall, the urge to comfort her on the tip of his tongue, before he picked it back up under the realization that she wasn’t crying for him, she was crying for herself. 

“Keep in mind that I am capable of a great deal. You’re lucky I respect your family enough to let you return to them tonight,” he told her, the threat blatant. Drakken then threw her arm away from him, stepping away, back turning. “Get out! Before I change my mind!” 

VIXEY: Drakken didn’t let go. 

That was all Vixey could think about. All the training she had been given as a nurse: how to talk people down from manic or psychotic episodes, how to defend herself--she couldn’t remember any of it. Because Drakken wasn’t some stranger in an A&E award. He was her boyfriend. Someone she cared about. 

Had cared about. 

Her other hand came up, pressing against his wrist, trying to get him to let go, but instead, he just jerked her closer. She had always known Drakken was strong, but it was never anything she’d paid much attention to before. Even when he yelled at her before, when they’d gotten into fights, because there had been plenty of those. She had never been scared of him. 

Now, she felt it and she realized--he was much stronger than her. She froze, realizing that was probably the best defense. Anything she did. Anything she said would probably only set him off further. 

Her breath shuddered shallow in her chest. Her gaze searched his as he threatened her, looking for any sign the Drakken she knew existed at all. She didn’t find any. 

When he threw her away, Vixey stumbled to the side, catching herself on the arm of the chair. She stood for a moment, shock washing over her--part of her still thought that she was going to wake up from some bad dream. She had just fallen asleep while watching the movie and would wake up to Drakken not-so-gently shaking her shoulder, impatient and chiding her for missing part of the movie. 

But her wrist was throbbing and this felt too real for something she might dream. Vixey had never been that creative.

Drakken barked at her to get out and Vixey flinched. She gave one more second to glance over Drakken, the line of his shoulders, the way his hair was still mussed at the back from having been slouching against the couch. Her heart clenched. Then, she turned, barely stopping to grab her purse. She left her shoes and jacket behind as she fled into the cold winter night. 

[sh1tposterr]

Cock head and bullet

[cellphonehippie]

“A loaded God complex, cock it and pull it” Fall Out Boy , Sugar, We’re Going Down (2005) / “Always an angel, never a god” boygenius, Not Strong Enough (2023)

[nouearth]

nsfw alphabet w/ bruce wayne.

bruce wayne x male reader.

a/n: something new i've been meaning to try, so thank you for this request for finally pushing me to do so!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

we all know bruce is a busy man. it's an unfortunate norm to wake up in the morning to his side of the bed and see nothing but the wrinkles of the bed sheets that once warmed his body; to visit him at work because he forgot lunch (again) and wait in his office because he was currently in another meeting; to watch him with exhaustion and worry in the night while he scans through evidence files regarding a new criminal case.

in short, it's exhausting to even think about putting yourself in his shoes, and bruce wonders how you managed to stay with him for so long. it's not his fault, though, and you tell him that through sweet whispers in his ears when he's feeling down, through a simple doting embrace when he falls asleep during the rare occurrence you two could watch a movie together. and he's grateful to have someone like you.

whenever you two had sex, bruce would make sure he took his time with you. he doesn't stop until his body is spent, until your body is wrecked from the love and lust he has for you, and when you two finally finish after a series of rounds, he holds you close. breathing, panting—floating because he lost count in how many times he had come in your wrecked hole.

he spoons you, your back to his sweaty chest, refusing to pull himself out of your hole (at least until his cock goes limp), and he likes having his palm over your own chest to remind him that you're still here. your heart runs an electrifying marathon, then slowly comes to a calming jog because he adores your body, caressing and allowing his hands to roam free wherever he pleases. he loves feeling every tremor your body would retrieve as he dozed you off with a slurry of languid kisses across your nape, then the melt of your muscles the closer he holds you, and when you've fallen asleep and let slumber press your full weight into him, he does the same—because you're safe now.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

not to sound like a pervert, but bruce really loves your thighs. whether they were exposed in those shorts you like to wear inside the manor or deliciously full and contained in those dress pants he brought for you; he always had his hand on your lap. whenever he needed your attention and you were sitting next to him, he would squeeze your thigh because you were ticklish there. whenever you two went out to eat, he preferred sitting next to you because your thigh was the toastiest furnace for his hand. he just liked how... complex your thighs were. soft and malleable to touch yet toned and firm when he suckled on the flesh. not to mention, they were the perfect handles whenever bruce went down on your cock and sucked you off.

for bruce, he's quite proud of his shoulders. they've always been broad since he was younger, but with intense training, they've only gotten larger and broader since then. and he's glad that he isn't alone in this inclination. whenever bruce was stressed, you'd massage his shoulders until he snapped out of his migraine and turned to thank your presence with a kiss. and of course, bruce's shoulders weren't for purely aesthetics. they were also extremely useful, practically acting as your own bike handles, as you rode his cock. they provided you balance and leverage as you worked a sweat on riding out his orgasm inside of you, until your ass was thickly filled with his warm seed. and even that, that doesn't stop you from stopping and milking him out.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

god, when it came to you, he is obsessed with your cum. he's completely enthralled how much cum could come out of you simply from him fucking you, and it was why he preferred you riding him, or at least on his lap, so he could have the best view of your cock spitting out thick loads of cum and fuck, splash zone much? he loved how warm it was when you would spray across his face, even his face at times as he proceeded to fuck you harder. and knowing that it would make you blush and whine, he loved scooping your cum up off his body and tasting you. nowhere near sweet like fantasies have endorsed, but perfectly and deliciously edible on his tongue, to the point where he makes sure he'll be sucking you off clean before you doze off.

for bruce, he loves the sight of his cum anywhere on your body. in your ass, on your back, between your thighs, every place imaginable was a turn on. but if he had to pick, fuck... coming on your face was a true delight that would beckon him for another round simply from watching your features get layered and layered with his thick loads. it was dirty, erotic, and demeaning, especially as you waited for his loads on your knees, but fuck—he couldn't get enough of it. he couldn't get enough of decorating you in his own musk.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

it's all about taking control for bruce. whether it's him as the caped crusader or him in bed, bruce likes being treated as someone respectable, someone with honor, someone with authority. and when it came to you, he likes being called sir.

on some occasions, it would be your secret code for him if you were horny and needed to go somewhere private with him in public.

feeling a little famished, sir. hm? couldn't quite hear you. sir, i said i'm feeling famished. now get in the bathroom before someone takes— okay, okay! geez.

on many occasions, bruce would use it to his advantage and tease you in bed. the tip of his cock would barely graze your pucker, tracing and circling the tender flesh with a covet for your begging. c'mon, tell me what you want. use the right words. f-fuck, please. i n-need your cock, sir. louder. i need you to speak clearly. sir! please! sir! i need you cock!

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

they weren't wrong when the media labelled him as a 'playboy'. although, he had definitely settled down by the time he met you; earlier on, it was nonstop hook-ups with majorly women. for men, he'd leave it at blowjobs and nothing more. but hey, despite his inexperience with men, a hole was a hole, right? as long as it took his cock without any pushback, there was no complaint! besides, there was little difference in pleasuring women and men. he even found it exciting to learn from you, to learn with you, in how to give each other the best pleasurable one could offer.

you could proudly boast that you were the first one to put a finger in bruce's ass. and perhaps, convince him to put something else inside of him.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

it's already been mentioned before, but bruce loves having you on his lap. not because of laziness or anything, but he truly loves your body and how incredibly vulnerable it had become as you fuck yourself on his cock. it was a culmination of your body putting on a performance for him and showing off his favorite parts about you, exposing it and further enticing bruce to do whatever he wanted to you, with every single bounce.

the bounce of your cock and pecs in rhythm with your hips, fucking yourself down on his cock; the droplets of sweat covering your skin in a greasy yet glorious sheen that could make him cream inside of you right then and there; the change in your expressions whenever bruce began fucking up into you instead, meeting your own hips in a steady and quick pace. his arms hurt from straining his own weight, but fuck was it worth it when you came all over him in thick, long spurts.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

bruce isn't usually humorous in bed. rather, he finds enjoyment in teasing you through a mixture of his demands and his actions. what always worked was pulling his cock out until only the plump tip was nearing its exit, and he always found amusement in how quick desperation came to possess your body and thoughts as you'd wiggle your ass back in attempt to shove him back inside.

mm-mm, what's the word? p-please, sir!

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

since you've known bruce, he had always maintained a very tidy and orderly appearance, probably because he was constantly in the spotlight since he was a kid, and his groin completely mirrored that upbringing. rather than completely going bare, he likes leaving enough hair to provide you a preview of what's to come after the first few centimeters of trimmed hairs—an appetizer before the main course, he reckoned.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

with how much work and his second persona has taken over his life, that left little time with you, and he feels absolutely guilty about it. it depends on the mood, but whether you two were engaged in rough or vanilla sex, bruce made sure to stick close to you. lace his fingers into between yours, have his mouth on your body at all times, mark you and kiss you wherever he hadn't, remind you how much he missed you, how much he loved you, how you were only his. fuck, he was possessive, and you found that incredibly romantic as much as it was suffocating at times. he made sure you praise you, to remind you how beautiful you looked taking his cock like this.

and before he falls asleep, he'd always whisper in your ear that he loves you, even if slumber had already taken you as hostage and stripped you away from the comfort of his assurance.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

bruce tries his best from jacking off, especially since he knows how much more gratifying it is to have you clench around him; to have you on your knees and swallow his cock down. but fuck, you were a tease. you loved sending him thirst traps whenever you knew he would be swamped up in a day full of meetings, and you knew you'd successfully infiltrated his mind when he would dislike your message with a thumbs down.

though, thanks to bruce sending you countless videos of him rubbing himself through his pants, you were left with little imagination on how bruce was spending his short break.

bruce has never been so thankful for you in his life. it took some convincing to get bruce on board with filming himself fucking you. and ever since then, bruce no longer had to rely on the memories of your warm touch, of your sweaty scent, of your whimpers as he blue-balled himself in his office.

right then and there, he'd whip his cock out from the zipper of his pants, and jacked off to the most recent video between you and him on his phone. and not to toot his own horn, but fuck was bruce a great director. up-close shots of your body, glistening under a layer of your own hot sweat, followed by thick droplets from bruce's. the flash on his phone made it so much more erotic, like an amateur porno, as it would focus on his cock driving deep into your ass from his perspective, his groans rumbling intimately over the speakers. bruce's abdominal muscles would flex and his core would engage as he mustered another strength to power through exhaustion, fueled by your begs and whimpers for him to fuck you harder, and fuck, it was better than porn. to recount and watch how he wrecked you that night made him bust multiple thick loads, and unfortunately soil his pristine suit.

to which, you'd most definitely pay for, one way or another, when he gets home from work.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

remember when i mentioned bruce liked having control? well, that definitely comes into effect when he's rough-housing you. only if you're in the mood of course (and you were always in the mood), but there's something so gratifying to him when he has his hand around your neck, your skin blooming under the warmth, squeezing harder and harder as he's fucking you into the bed. being rough with you also goes hand-in-hand with his praise kink, singing you low and sweet affections in your ear while you're taking his cock like you've always meant to.

that's it, fuck. good boy. like that? you like that? fuck, your sweet hole loves that.

L = Location (favourite places to do the do)

he'd love to be more experimental, but unfortunately that has to account for his schedule and for the most part, you two mostly have sex in bed. if not, it was a little quickie in his office. which isn't bad, but the idea of his temptation wearing his patience thin and just absolutely ravishing you in his car, or in a bathroom some place, had run through his mind multiple times.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

as much as bruce knew that you dreaded it, there was a reason why he insisted on you coming to his charity galas. it was those god-damn suits he'd buy for you and it would be the only time he'd think to himself that the money was well-spent, if it even mattered to him.

bruce, i don't think i need another suit. what's wrong with the ones you got me two years ago?

out of style, out of season. see, i told you there's a reason why we don't follow trends.

it was distracting. it was the rare times where you'd look completely different from your normal self. your hair in a different style. your suit tailored according to your build. your confidence covertly reviving because you didn't want to admit that you actually really liked looking like this. your forearms breaching free when you rolled up your sleeves, and fuck, it was so seductive. if bruce hadn't dressed you and helped out with the styling, he'd assume you'd come from old money.

sometimes he'd regret it because all eyes were on you, on bruce's man, and it was a complete nuisance dealing with drunk patrons attempt to flirt with you as if you could even understand anything they were saying with their limp tongue in the way of their speech.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do)

listen, bruce is down for anything, but he doesn't exactly get wax play. maybe he's been almost set on fire too many times to count, but the idea of accidentally burning your skin because he poured too much or something makes him freak out. it was more about the discomfort regarding your safety, than his overall distaste for it.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill,)

bruce doesn't admit it, but in your words, he's pretty selfish. not in a bad way because he always makes it up to you afterwards, but it was the control thing coming to play again. you suck him off first, and then he'll reward you with his own mouth if it was deemed worthy enough (you know it's a bluff, but it's always fun to play along).

he loves seeing you take his cock. it feels like almost every other day where you're down on your knees and sucking him off, and he hasn't gotten tired of it yet. you know where his cock like no one else, know where he was the most sensitive, how he liked it sloppy and dripping from your spit. it was a fucking turn on to see you so devoted to pleasuring him.

for giving, he's better at rimming than giving you blowjobs. for the most part, he hates that gagging feeling whenever he barely took his cock in your mouth, and you'd always tease him for it, making him blush profusely. he's never been bad at something, even if you don't say it, so he makes it up in devouring your ass like it's been a week since he's had proper food. like your blowjobs, he likes having you dripping in spit, your musky hole wet and tender from the amount of turns he's had licking and fucking you with his tongue. and the way you pushed your ass out and arched into the back as he buried his nose in between your cheeks discovered a new kink of his: asphyxiation.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual?)

for the most part, it depends on his mood and energy. if it was a stressful day, he expects you to let him wreck your body until it was spent and pliant beneath him. to properly get him off, he needed the most lewd sounds to come out of your mouth; the writhe in your body because he got a little carried away at first but you then slowly adjusted yourself to; the friction of the sheets burning at his knees; he needed you hard and your body was going to feel the consequences the next morning. and then there are days where bruce wants to take his time with you, worship your body with the hands you would always hold onto whenever you felt at unease; with the mouth you would always latch onto with your own whenever you needed to renew vitality; with his body you would always safeguarded yourself in no matter how you were feeling because you knew bruce never failed to protect you. his thrusts would slow, languid but never lazy as he liked keeping you on your toes and hitting you at the deepest spot with a sudden rut, and then measured again as he pulled himself out, watching his cock throb and watching your hole take all of his love in with no objection.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often)

quickies were never as satisfying as the time fully spent with you, but it got the job done. usually on days where he was the most stressed and needed to let something out, he'd call you over to the office for lunch and where you were expecting to eat your steamy leftovers with him, you ended up bent over his office desk, naked from the waist below, taking bruce's frustration up for the day. not that you were complaining, though. he always extended his lunch to properly eat with you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks)

bruce is pretty content with his sex life with you. if you mentioned something about a new kink or wanting to experiment, he'd take up the entire night or two researching up about it, studying it methodically to ensure nothing wrong can happen and how to handle the situation if it does.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last)

the man can go all night, have you seen his training regime? and the best part is? you let him have his way with you with multiple rounds despite usually being the one to cum first, and it would be a norm to have you coming again in the same night.

T = Toy (do they own toys? do they use them?)

he owns very little toys, no other reason being than bruce wanting you to rely on his dick for pleasure only. he wants you dependent on it, so there's a pretty big chance you might offend him if you suggest a phallic-type toy.

why the hell do you want a dragon dildo?! fifteen inches?!?! jesus christ—am i not big enough or something?!

what—no! didn't you say you liked seeing me struggle?! if anything, it's for YOUR own pleasure, bud. geez...

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

bruce loves teasing you. to be honest, who in the world doesn't love teasing their partner? it's adorable to see you try to squirm away from him when he's hugging you from behind while you're doing whatever and kissing the shell of your ear, then slipping his hand down your pants to feel how hard your dick had gotten from the most minuscule action. and fuck, when he throws in a little verbal play to remind you about how your dick is his and no one else's; you'd be thinking about it for the rest of the day, at least until bruce left for work and you were back onto his bed, sprawled out and whimpering as you spilled multiple loads over your tummy.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)

there's something extremely sexy in a way that bruce tries to contain his volume through gritted teeth. it was intimate the way lust unveiled himself. hushed groans in your ear, biting into your earlobe then neck to keep himself from moaning out loud, and fuck, he'd tremble from how much pleasure you were giving him. it would be reflected through his breaths, ruptured as he panted in your mouth during a kiss.

and you were so fucking proud when the moment he disposed a load inside of you, he couldn't help but gush out a deep, guttural moan from within, one that would shake you to your core, and possessed you to spill your own load simply from the sound of his relief.

W = Wild Card (get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

if bruce had all day with you, he'd want to spend it dry-humping you, specifically in suits. he saw it in a movie once, two men gyrating each other while one was on the other's lap, and it was even hotter than two nude men blowing each other off. and fuck, was he right. there was nothing more infuriating than seeking for pleasure that could be more gratifying. he'd angle his hips, you'd angle yours, and you two would rub, hump into each other's cocks, grind against one another with a steady rhythm while he stilled your head for an equally heavy make-out session. you'd beg for him to just take you right then and there, rip your clothes off and everything, but no. bruce doesn't and never does, and he persists, relieving your aching cock with his own until you two stain the inside of your dress pants, a deep and thick wet spot forming at the center of the trousers afterwards.

X = X-Ray (let’s see what’s going on in those pants)

bruce would be above average, but definitely not hung like most people assume, and you liked that. it was perfectly fit for your body and most importantly, bruce knew how to utilize that thing. he dug deep, made sure you feel every inch, and fuck, his heavy balls holding his thick cum-loads were the cherry on top of your desires for him.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

sex would be the first thing on his mind whenever bruce is stressed. maybe not so much when he's pummeling down criminals, but more so in his daily life where he's swamped in meetings and talking with shareholders. i mean, is it his fault that you looked so good frying up eggs this morning? you had absolutely no reason to, especially when sleep was still laced in your face.

Z = ZZZ (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

bruce has always been a nocturnal animal. even when you've fallen asleep first and nothing but the sounds around him were a droning brown noise specifically curated to lull him to sleep, he'd still remain awake for a while before falling asleep. there was too much on his mind, even if he had emptied it out inside of you. overwhelming thoughts came in as quick as they came out, and luckily, you were there to be the support he needed.

the soft snores of your slumber were evidence that you felt safe with him, a reminder that you were able to sleep like this because he did a fucking great job in keeping you away from danger, and he hoped it would remain that way as he snuggled into you, holding you close to his chest as if tomorrow could change the trajectory of fate.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[vampylily]

andy doing the loaded god complex cock it and pull it 🔫

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

half past five high - interlude: sexcapades

pairing: supermodel!Mingyu x foreigner!girls

genre: smut. minors dni.

warnings: rough sex, unprotected sex (stay safe), manhandling, mingyu has a god complex, blowjob, deepthroating, creampie, threesome, degradation, alcohol consumption, body worship, hair pulling, daddy kink, objectification, squirting

word count: 1.6k

summary: bad decisions lead to more bad decisions and actions.

series taglist: @delicatewerewolfsoul @aliceu @husbandhoshi @wonwoosthetic @boowanie @billboard-singer @gaebestie  @aurumness​ @dkakapizzaboy

unable to tag: @chwebychew @jaeyux

© multi-kpop-fanfics, 2023. no reposting or translating without permission.

“Here we are, ladies - make yourselves comfortable” Mingyu opens the door to his apartment, letting the girls go in the space, gasping in awe and giggling when they plop on the velvet couch, touching the soft material.

“Wow, your apartment is so cool!”

“What did you expect, Mia? He’s a supermodel, he’s obviously loaded with money” the blonde girl giggles, looking at Mingyu with naughty eyes.

“I see you’re aware of who I am - and trust me, money isn’t the only thing I’m loaded with” he slides his coat and red blazer, staying only in his vest and dress pants. 

He makes his way to the kitchen, opening the glamorous cellar where he keeps all of his alcohol, pulling out three glasses and a bottle of Bourbon, setting them down on the table in front of the couch, filling them halfway with the golden liquid.

“Cheers, ladies” he raises his glasses and they share the enthusiasm, clinking their glasses together, taking a few sips of the alcohol.

“Sheesh, that’s so tasty” the brunette slurs with a laugh and she grabs the bottle from the neck, trying to read the label, “Too bad I can’t read what it says haha!”

“Oh God, you’re so wasted, Mia”

“You’re no better, Kay!” 

“Ladies, please don’t fight” Mingyu sits between them, bringing them close to his body, “We can do so many fun things instead, right?” he slowly manspreads, a wicked smirk spreading on his lips when he sees Mia’s eyes fixated on his lap.

“Something caught your eye, love?”

“Yeah, your cock” she giggles drunkenly, climbing on his lap and taking off her dress, her mesh lingerie barely covering her breasts and pussy, snatching the bottle from her friend’s hands, trying to dance on Mingyu’s lap.

“Slay, girl!” Kay hollers, taking out her phone to record the scene, laughing sneakily when she notices his hands holding her friend’s waist.

Mingyu leans back, his hands caressing her skin, groaning when she grazes his bulge, his judgment getting clouded with each passing second. 

“Babe I need you to get off my lap, right now” he taps her ass, snatching the Bourbon bottle out of her hands.

“But whyyyyy” she whines in protest.

“Because I don’t want to bust a nut in these pants, love” 

"And where do you wanna bust it, big boy?" Kay starts unbuttoning his vest, her lithe hands sliding it off his shoulders and caresses his chest, her dress long discarded.

"Depends on whether you're clean, baby"

"We're both clean and on the pill, Mingyu!" the brunette slurs, putting down the Bourbon bottle and sliding down on her knees in front of Mingyu's spread thighs, fumbling with his pants.

"Well then, that changes a lot" he grabs the blonde's face, kissing her greedily and sliding his tongue down her throat, almost making her gag.

The brunette drags the red pants down to Mingyu's ankles, pressing open mouthed kisses over his clothed cock, fingertips slyly tugging the waistband of his Celine boxers.

"Fuck, just take his cock out already!" Kay breaks the kiss and gets next to her friend, ripping off his boxers and gasping when they see his sheer size, their hands already playing with his shaft and balls.

"Greedy little things" Mingyu laughs condescendingly, laying back with his arms resting on the back cushions, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he watches the girls enjoy themselves, moaning and whimpering between his legs.

Their plush lips are glued on his cock, tongues coating the entire shaft with their spit, the blonde’s mouth sucking the tip slowly, while the brunette plays with his balls, licking and sucking them greedily, none of them breaking eye contact with Mingyu.

“Come on, you can do better than that, dolls” he clicks his tongue in annoyance and that seems to spur the girls on, as they speed up their movements, the noises coming out of their mouth louder, sloppier and needier, their lips now touching as they slide them up and down his cock, their wet muscles making a mess all over the thick shaft.

He watches over them, playing with his cock, holding it with their tiny hands and slapping it on their tongues and cheeks, like they’re serving their sanity and self respect on a silver platter for him.

They are worshipping him like a God - and Mingyu is thriving in it.

“Mmm fuck, your cock is sooo fucking big” Mia moans and pushes her mouth down his cock, deepthroating him and bobbing her head rhythmically, until Kay pulls her friend’s head by her hair, her turn to deepthroat Mingyu.

“Enough fighting, ladies” he pulls Kay off his cock, “I want you both on the couch, ass up in the air and hands on the back cushions” he gets up, kicking away the pooled pants and boxers away, drinking the rest of his Bourbon and drunkenly throwing the glass away, crashing down on the floor into tiny pieces.

“Oops”

“Daddy is angry” Mia giggles, climbing on the couch. 

“Daddy will get angry if you don’t do as I say in the next three seconds” Mingyu stares down at them and they both scramble to bend their asses up in the air, panties digging in their flesh.

“Fuckin’ whores” he scoffs, ripping their thongs away, the thin fabric snapping against their skins, making them whine and yelp.

“Please fuck me like a whore, Daddy” Kay shakes her ass in an attempt to entice Mingyu, but she only gets two harsh slaps on her ass, his hand roughly gripping her hair.

“I don’t remember giving you permission to talk” he presses his lips on the shell of her ear, “Now stay down like a good little bitch and watch me fuck your friend to oblivion” he orders her and the girl stays there, jealousy invading her head.

Mingyu positions himself behind Mia, running his hands over her ass, lining his cock with her pussy before sliding in with one swift thrust, a loud moan echoing in the luxurious apartment.

He sets a brutal pace, one hand gripping her waist and the other buried in her hair, pulling it back and using it as leverage to fuck her cunt without mercy.

"Fuck, you're so- big!" the brunette gasps, her manicured nails digging into the velvet cushions of the couch, eyes rolling in the back of her skull from the repeated ramming of her sweet spot.

"I know, baby, I know - Fuck, such a tight lil' cunt you have, huh?" he groans, side-eyeing the blonde girl, who is watching with lust-blown eyes, her hand between her legs, rubbing her pussy in an attempt to feel some kind of stimulation.

"Look at your friend-" Mingyu turns Mia's head towards Kay, forcing her to look at the blonde girl, "She's so desperate for my cock that she's trying to rub herself while she watches us party together" he chuckles like the devil, his gaze piercing the other girl.

"Do you think she deserves to get fucked once I'm done with you? Do you think she deserves my cock?"

"Yes, Daddy, please!" Mia whines, "Please fuck us full, we're such good girls for you" she draws out the last sentence, her body growing more sensitive.

"Hmm, since you insist" he hums, speeding up his thrusts and snaking his hand in front of her legs to rub the rough pads on his fingers on her clit to push closer to the edge.

"Shitshitshit I'm cumming Gyu, I'm cumming!" she screams and falls limp on the couch as she topples off the edge, Mingyu cumming right after with a sharp jut of his hips, his thick seed painting the walls of her cunt white.

He pulls out of her without hesitation, leaving her empty all of a sudden, hastily switching to Kay and slamming his cock in her cunt, knocking her breathless on the lavish couch.

"Fuuuuck….." the blonde girl cries out, thighs already starting to shake.

"Baby you nearly came from this? I haven't even started fucking you" Mingyu mocks her and begins ramming his dick in her pussy, harder than he did to the brunette, his large hands grabbing her small waist with an iron grip.

Her cut-off moans and short breaths, paired with her soaked cunt are enough to send him into a spiral, thrusting into her tight heat as if he’s a rabid dog gone into heat. 

“Such a tight little wet hole, fuck, perfect to blow my load in it” Mingyu moans, pulling her ass back and slamming it on his pelvis with full force, sweat starting to form on his chiseled body. 

Kay’s noises almost remind him of the noises you make when he fucks you to oblivion and you scream his name, letting him use your body for his own pleasure. Almost.

Mingyu gets mad at himself for letting his mind slip to you again, after doing his best to not think about you after the fiasco at the exhibition. He ends up digging his nails into the girl’s skin, leaving small crescent moons in their way.

“G-Gyu, you’re too rough, s-slow down” the girl begs, her voice barely audible.

“Just a little more” he groans, before slamming his cock in her cunt with one last strong thrust, flooding her with his cum, forcing her orgasm to crash upon her, squirting without warning all over the velvet couch.

“Shit, you made a mess” he scoffs while pulling out of her pussy, his load dripping on the cushions and the floor.

“Me? Or…fuck, you?” Kay sighs, collapsing next to her friend, completely spent and weak.

Mingyu gets up, standing on his full height, towering over the now completely wrecked girls, his cum seeping out of them slowly in pearly globs.

Just for tonight, he truly feels like a God.

[mamawasatesttube]

ooo prompt time!! maybe “if we’re going down, i’m going with you.” or “if you insult them, you insult me.” with timkon?

"This doesn't look great," Kon observes.

Tim lowers his binoculars. The flotilla of invading spacecraft in the valley below are primed to attack the alien village on the other side of the hills within the hour, and help from offworld won't get here until dawn. Which is significantly more than an hour away. The village hardly has anything to call "defenses", and no troops to speak of other than farmers and their kids, untrained and armed with pitchforks.

"Yeah, not great," Tim agrees. It's a pretty apt summary of the situation. Fucking Slag conquerors. "I get the feeling they aren't gonna be interested in baseball this time, either."

Kon snorts. But the levity in his face is belied by the tension running through his body; his shoulders are tight, his jaw squared as he stares down the gentle slope from their hidden observation deck down to the ships. He looks remarkably like Clark when he's serious, when his eyes turn stormy and protective.

Then he turns his gaze to Tim, and an invisible touch ghosts over Tim's lower lip. Tim belatedly realizes he's been biting it so hard he's very close to drawing blood.

"Don't do that," Kon murmurs. The stormy look hasn't diminished, but it's warmer, when he looks at Tim.

"Right." Tim is hard-pressed, just for the most fleeting of moments, not to reach for him; he yearns, for an instant, but he doesn't, because there's work to be done. Like the alien death trap at the bottom of the hill. "Well. I might be able to disrupt their local lcommunications array, if I can just get my hands on one of their computers. That might buy us some time."

Kon nods. "And I can definitely wreck some shit to distract them while you do that."

A brief pause, as they survey the Slag ships. They've got heavy enough artillery that even with Kon's formidable powers, the odds are looking very... not great. A little flutter of anxiety thrums through Tim's stomach, not at the idea of dying here himself (though he doesn't love that either), but at the idea of losing Kon. If he takes it on himself to go out in a blaze of glory and hellfire, just to save one little farming village on a planet far from their own...

As if reading his mind, Kon clears his throat. "Look, Rob... I can just go in and break a lot of shit solo. That'll still probably buy enough time. You don't have to go in on such a risky one with me. I can drop you back at—"

Tim whaps him on the head. "Stop that. You know I'm not hiding and letting you go in alone."

Kon shrugs, a slight, rueful smile playing about his lips. "Hey, worth a shot. Since we're about to get shot at. A lot."

Rolling his eyes, Tim folds his binoculars and clips them back to his belt, then reaches over and takes Kon's hand. "Yeah, well, if you're going down, I'm going with you."

This time, Kon snorts. "And sugar, we're goin' down swingin'," he sings, squeezing Tim's hand.

Tim surprises himself by laughing. Honestly, it shouldn't be a surprise; Kon always makes him laugh, even when he least expects it. "I'll be your number one with a bullet," he sings back. "A loaded god complex, cock it and pull it."

As one, they turn to look back down at the flotilla below. The Slag ships sit ominously on the dark valley floor, a blot of light where none should be.

They better survive this, Tim thinks. It'd be really stupid to die now to a squadron of the same alien conquerors who they beat at baseball years ago.

"You know, I always thought that line was 'a load of god complex'," Kon admits, stroking his chin with his free hand. "Like, the whole thing was a dick joke and a gun thing, and also saying, like, hey, get a load of this guy and his god complex!"

Tim snorts again, unable to stop himself from grinning despite the gravity of it all. "Only you, Kon."

"Fall Out Boy is unintelligible!" Kon defends. His thumb strokes along the base of Tim's, rubbing a circle through his gauntlet, and Tim glances up at him briefly to see him smiling again, though the set of his jaw is no less resolute.

Tim loves him.

"You ready for this, clone boy?" he asks.

"With you at my back?" Kon returns. "Always."

[falloutbridge]

sugar vs. me & you

We're going down, down in an earlier round (Take aim at myself) And sugar, we're going down swinging (Take back what you said) I'll be your number one with a bullet A loaded God complex, cock it and pull it

The best way to make it through with Hearts and wrists intact Is to realize two out of three ain't bad