#its giving chicken run

[way2gosuperrstarr]

watch my body disintegrate into a pile of ash like a cartoon character who just got struck by a lightning bolt (JOINT PAIN JOINT PAIN JOINT PAIN JOINT PAIN) (just got off work)

[skyward-floored]

Ooh... is it worth the extra ten dollars to have a little bird on my license plates...

[icewindandboringhorror]

It always seems a bit unbalanced on The Great Food Truck Race when there will be multiple teams who are cooking a wide variety of complex dishes with 10 different components and a bunch of prep work, and then there's that one team who like... exclusively serves plain crepes with some premade nutella on them, or plain waffles with just some whipped cream and cut up strawberries lol...

[majimassqueaktoy]

trying to make a gif but it just doesn't look right and I am confused \insert image of guy crying\

ignore that it says Fish and chips

[samarecharm]

I think. I am going to try ranked splatoon…

[hqmillioncorn]

Looking for TRUE LOVE Looking for TRUE LOVE To love me so, so~

originally written back in august 2022!  guest starring my friends wols  Lunya Lanya, Coco Cocoda, Andres Sacapuntas and Himbo Hooters :v)

Endwalker Spoilers

after the hectic events of saving the world and everything they know and love, Lunya happens to overhear Babycorn mutter something about carrying love letters with her.

only...those letters don’t belong to her.

“WAaaAAaAAAAaaaAAAA!!!”

“I told you! If you had just told me about the letters it wouldn’t come down to this.”

Held upside down as she was, it was hard for Babycorn to ask Lunya to please put her down. While she was very used to Lunya picking her up like she weighed nothing more than an actual ear of millioncorn. It was another thing however, to be held so easily while being upside down and with no chance of being able to wriggle her way out.

All Babycorn could continue to do was say, “WAAaaAaaAAa!” as she hoped that her backpack would be able to hold its contents inside amidst all the shaking.

And if it didn’t…

Then Babycorn didn’t know what she would say if all her secrets came tumbling out! Unfortunately for Babycorn, Lunya wasn’t one to give up so easily.

Very soon the heavier things inside the backpack started to fall out, which mostly included a variety of snacks and one Calca doll that had been suddenly interrupted mid-nap. Just as she landed and was about to give Lunya a piece of her mind, a heavy set of extra clothes landed on her.

Then Lunya spotted it, her indented target! A couple of sealed letters, alongside a partially eaten popoto, came falling out alongside each other. “Ah-ha!” Lunya said, her eyes lighting up in excitement.

As Lunya continued shaking even more and more letters came fluttering out of Babycorn’s backpack. It almost looked like it was spitting the letters out of its mouth. Maybe it was Lunya’s imagination but the backpack looked almost as distressed as Babycorn did. 

Though considering the kind of company (especially the inanimate kind) it wouldn’t shock Lunya if the backpack was in an actual emotional panic.

Once Lunya was certain that every last sealed envelope had fallen out of Babycorn’s backpack she stopped shaking the shaken Lalafell. As easy as Lunya had picked Babycorn up, she flipped her right side up and set her back down. Lunya made sure that Babycorn had found her footing before letting her go and leaping to grab the mysterious letters.

Apparently, Babycorn had been hiding them in her backpack ever since they had come back from Ultima Thule. Since then she’d been doing a good job of keeping them a secret. Though part of the reason for that was that she just plain forgot about them.

It wasn’t until today, when an innocent comment about how heavy her pack was from the copious amount of ‘Love Letters’, caught Lunya’s attention. Though she and the others weren’t too surprised at first. One surprising thing about Babycorn was the amount of letters from secret admirers she received on a weekly basis.

Andres had the theory that it was just one very determined person sending them but after a team of experts (Reese, Lunya and Andres who was there for moral support) analyzed the letters they determined, without a shred of doubt, that the letters were from all sorts of different people.

Though it was strange that Babycorn waved off love confessions and even marriage proposals with a simple hand wave, over time it eventually just became a sort of background noise to daily life.

So hearing Babycorn complain about love letters wasn’t anything too surprising.

What had raised Lunya’s suspicions, that no one else seemed to pick up on, was Babycorn muttering to herself how the love letters didn’t even belong to her.

“If anyone finds them and reads them it’ll be super embarrassing!!” Babycorn cried. Her hands were clasped together, praying that Lunya would give the letters back to her. She was praying rather hard for someone who had only found out what praying was only a few years ago.

“It would be embarrassing for who? You? Or the person these belong to?” Lunya looked down at the envelope in her hands and then back at Babycorn, her expression hardening. “You didn’t steal these from someone, did you?”

Babycorn bounced up and put her hands on her hips. “No! Of course not!” It sounded like the very idea of committing mail theft seemed to insult her personally. “Hythlodaeus gave them to me because he was keeping a promise to someone!” She crossed her arms and looked away, pouting.  

While Babycorn didn’t immediately realize her mistake, Lunya had.

“Oh, did he? What else did he say?” Lunya turned the envelope around to get ready to remove the fancy seal on the back. The seal was in the shape of a happy face and orange in color.

“Ummm…He said something about keeping a promise of holding onto them! But he said he felt that it was only natural that I should have them now! Or something like that…” Babycorn was using all of her brain power in trying to remember what Hythlodaeus had told her that she wasn’t really thinking twice about what she was admitting to Lunya.

Lunya was halfway through opening the envelope when she stopped to look up at Babycorn again. She did recall seeing Hythlodaeus walk up to Babycorn to talk to her back in Ultima Thule. Though at the time wondering what the two of them were doing wasn’t exactly at the forefront of her mind.

However, now that the emotional highs and lows of saving the world were all over and done with, Lunya could put all of her effort into figuring out this mystery that had been bothering her for over two hours.

“So when you say that Hythlodaeus felt that it was only natural that you have these letters...? What do you think he meant by that?”

“It’s cause’ Maize wrote them. You know, the Ancient me and Cherry were sundered from. I guess that’s why.”

“Inchresting…” Lunya opened the envelope with ease but noticeably didn’t remove the letter inside.

At that very moment the gears in Babycorn’s head finally made the right turns and she realized the several mistakes in the things she had been saying for the past few minutes.

“Wait-! Waitwaitwaitwait!! I-I mean I..! I don’t know what you’re talking about! I…I don’t have any love letters! What are you talking about?!”

Babycorn looked around frantically for anything that might help her get out of the hole she dug herself into but all she could see was the Chocobo stables behind her and Lunya in front of her, still holding the most incriminating piece of evidence so far, an envelope.

“Luluuuuuu! Please please don’t read them!!” Babycorn begged

Lunya paused for a second, thinking. “Considering they’re probably written in some ancient language I doubt anyone is going to be reading them anytime soon.”

“Oh yay!”

“But I’m sure we can find someone to translate them!”

“Oh no!”

———————————–          

Lunya burst into the front door of the mansion, dragging Babycorn behind her.

“Who wants to help translate some ancient love letters?!” Lunya held up several of the envelopes that were scattered outside in her hand.

Babycorn let out a small and sad, “Wehh….”

———————————–          

It turned out there weren’t many people home. Though Lunya did manage to find and recruit Coco, Himbo and Andres into helping her and Babycorn decipher the letters. Though it was great she found help and these three were admittedly not the worst people to help with translating love letters, they probably weren’t too high up on the helpful tier either.

Considering one of them hadn’t realized they were in love for years, the other was too busy preparing for the dinner shift at his restaurant to really pay attention and the last one was Andres Sacapuntas. In that order.

Babycorn sat on one of the tables in the basement, angrily kicking her legs. She watched as Lunya set down and spread a handful of letters onto an adjacent table.

“I think it's good they're no help! I don’t wanna know what those dumb things say anywa-” Before Babycorn could finish her sentence Lunya put a freshly baked cookie in her mouth.

Babycorn happily munched on her cookie, forgetting her worries. “Hey!!!” Himbo leaned over the counter from the kitchen and pointed at the plate of cookies on the table, “Those are for tonight’s opening!” Himbo had already told Babycorn countless times that she wasn’t allowed to eat the restaurant's food.

Though it’s not like that ever stopped her.

“If they’re for tonight then you have time to make more!” Lunya assured him. Not to mention that despite his protests Himbo still let Babycorn eat food directly off the table because she was, in her own words, helping.

“Mpmmh mppmhh! These are really tasty!!” Babycorn said, stuffing another cookie into her mouth. Lunya had moved the plate with cookies at arm’s reach for Babycorn, hoping that the snacks would distract her for the time being. Lunya made sure to take a few cookies for herself too.

Then if she happened to run out of those, Lunya had her eye on a basket of freshly baked breadsticks. Not only for Babycorn but also for herself and Coco.

Once he heard Babycorn’s compliment, Himbo beamed with pride. “Why, thank you! Now if you’ll excuse me-!”  He hurried deeper into the kitchen to bake some more. The sounds of Himbo defying several laws of physics in order to make enough food for his restaurant echoed through the basement.

“I hope he makes more cookies~!” Babycorn sang to herself. It seemed like she had completely forgotten the reason they were all down here in the first place. Which was good news for Lunya but bad news for the Babycorn of a few hours from now and then some.

Lunya held one of the letters with the intent to see if there was anything written on it she could understand. Before she could even try to do that however, Coco called out to her holding a letter of his own in his hand. “Did Babycorn really tell you that Maize wrote all these?” Coco asked. It’s not like he didn’t believe her but there was just something about the letters he was looking at that didn’t feel right.

“That’s what she told me.” Though there was really no evidence besides word of mouth from Babycorn herself. Even so, there was no way Babycorn would lie about something like that. It was way too specific of a lie to come from her. “Why do you ask?” Lunya continued.

Coco took two letters in his hands and lifted them up for Lunya to see. It turns out that Coco was right, there was something incredibly off about them. The paper looked faded, which wasn’t too surprising considering how old some of these letters were. Then again, alongside those letters there were others that looked like they were written yesterday.

Though the weirdness didn’t end there. The contents of the love letter were all written in a bright red with an erratic writing style all over. The letter ended with what Lunya assumed was a huge signature at the bottom of the page.

What Coco was holding up resembled something more akin to a message from a murderer and not anything that was made with romantic intent. “I-I see…” Lunya was starting to realize why Babycorn didn’t want anyone looking at these things.

“Y-You don’t think it could be b-b-blood?! Do you?!” Coco trembled.

“Actually…It looks more like crayon to me.” 

“Huh-?” Coco flipped the letters over to look at them again. It was like Lunya pointed out, the letter (thank goodness) wasn’t written in blood. Instead apparently someone had taken the brightest red crayon they had and made it brighter by several shades, then used it to write a particularly scary looking love letter.

Andres leaned over from the seat he had taken next to Coco and examined the letter with him. “Heh! This looks like a little kid wrote it.” Andres laughed at everything down to the penmanship to the fact that it had scared Coco. Though that last one was directed more at Coco than the author of the letter.

“That’s because Maize wrote it as a little kid.”

Everyone turned to look at Babycorn. Even Himbo poked his fluffy head out of the kitchen. 

Despite dropping an incredibly important fact about the forbidden love letter lore, Babycorn looked as carefree as someone could look, happily chewing on the few remaining cookies on the plate.

“Did Hythlodaeus tell you that too?” Lunya asked. She knew very well that the particular letter that Coco examined was sealed. There was no way that Babycorn could have opened it and resealed it again. Babycorn was nowhere near precise enough to pull off something like that.

Not while Lunya had personally seen Babycorn tearing envelopes in half with her teeth to open them.

For a second it looked like Babycorn was about to explain what exactly it was she meant, until she blinked a few times and instead she looked about as confused as the rest of them were. “Uhh, I don’t know. Maybe he did?” She had her doubts that everyone would just blindly accept ‘Just a feeling’ as a valid explanation.

“Is it just a hunch?” Coco asked.

Babycorn looked at him, confused. “Aren’t those the things on Dhalmels?”

“Babycorn. That is a hump.” Lunya helpfully explained.

“Oh!” That made way more sense, “Then yeah-! It’s a hunch! I have that!”

There was a collective sigh across the room, even from Himbo. Though perhaps the only reason he knew the difference was because of his background as a chef. Otherwise he most likely would have been on the same wavelength as Babycorn.

After letting out a sigh Lunya chuckled to herself and looked back down at the pile of letters now with a hunch of her own.

Before she could put her hunch to the test however, Andres spoke up. “Hey Babycorn? Can you just tell us what these dumb letters say so we can stop looking at them and go something else?”

In fact, Andres had very specific plans for today that had been rudely interrupted by him being nosy over Babycorn’s secret letters. But now that was taking too long and it was getting in the way of walking My Son along the Costa del Sol coast. Admittedly it hadn’t been the original plan, but several people told Andres that walking a Goobbue through Limsa Lominsa was a really bad idea.

Babycorn was quick to jump on Andres’ remark.

“I already told you! I don’t know what they say!” Babycorn snatched another cookie from the plate and angrily took a bite of it. It had been drilled in her head by now that talking with her mouth full was rude but she didn’t have anything else to say at that point.

“Are you sure you really don’t know what they say Babycorn?” Lunya innocently asked.

Babycorn quickly swallowed, “W-What do you mean? You said no one could read them, that includes me too! Besides, I’m not that good at reading anyway…” 

Lunya closed her eyes and thought back to when she first confronted Babycorn about the letters. “If I remember right, you were worried about what was written in the letters even before I mentioned that they were written in a language that none of us know very well.” Lunya jumped out of her seat and began to walk towards where Babycorn sat on top of a table, “So then, what I’m wondering is…”

As Lunya’s eyes snapped open she stared directly at Babycorn, a knowing glint in her eyes. “Can you explain why you started panicking about what’s written in the letters then? If you really didn’t know, then you would have no reason to!”

Of course Lunya and many others knew that Babycorn tended to be a jumpy person. A leaf blowing in the wind would probably be enough to send her running on certain days, but there was something off about the way Babycorn was acting about this situation.

The others seemed to agree with what Lunya was theorizing, by the way they were nodding in understanding. Their own gazes turned to Babycorn to see what she would say in return of Lunya’s accusation.  

Babycorn was quick to jump to her own defense, “O-Of course I panicked I mean…I-I mean even if I didn’t know what was written on there love letters are just super embarrassing!! Just the idea of one…I-It’s embarrassing!! I don’t know why you would ever make one!”

A loud and confident “Ha ha!” rang out from behind Lunya and Coco.

Andres Sacapuntas was now standing on the table he’d been previously sitting at. His hands were on his hips and on his face was the same dumb confident smirk that Babycorn always dreaded seeing on him. “That’s a lie if I ever heard one!” Andres’ voice sounded different for some reason. More boastful.

He pointed right at Babycorn, which due to her previously established jumpy nature, was enough to get her to jump back. “You ask me to help you read the stupid love letters you get all the time!” Andres shrugged and shook his head in a manner that looked like he was almost having a little too much fun doing this. “Heh-heh, I can’t remember you ever being embarrassed about them! Every time I read one you asked me to read another then another! You wanna know what I think-?”

“No!” Babycorn answered.

Despite Babycorn’s answer, Andres continued to talk. “I think Lunya’s right! And that she should explain why she’s right because all I really wanted to do was stand on this desk and say you were lying!” Then after all of that, Andres was back to sitting down and waiting to see what would happen next.

After all that build up the others couldn’t help but be confused. “Thanks Andres.” Lunya looked back at Andres in time to see him wink at her. At least, she guessed that he was winking at her, it was hard to tell with an entire eyepatch in the way.

Either way this was his own way of saying ‘You’re welcome.’ To his credit Andres did provide valuable evidence against Babycorn’s claim.

“Um! I mean-! You see-” Babycorn stumbled and tripped over every word trying desperately to find something else to say. Unfortunately there was nothing else she could say. It looked like she was finally caught in the tangled web of lies she had created herself completely by accident.

“I think what Andres was trying to say was that you’ve been lying to us this whole time!” By the playful smirk on Lunya’s face, it looked like she was having a lot more fun than she was letting on.

As stated before, Babycorn had been lying but that didn’t mean she was actually smart enough to realize there was no point in admitting she’d been caught. “I-I haven’t been lying about anything!” Babycorn pouted, “And that’s the truth!”

“You know exactly what’s written in those letters! There would be no reason for you to panic if you didn’t!” Lunya decided not to give Babycorn anytime for her to helplessly try and wiggle her way out of this, so she went right into her second point. “Not only that-! The Babycorn we aaall know wouldn’t even give a second thought to a bag of love letters! Even if they didn’t belong to you!”

“Yeah!” Coco chimed in himself, “You’d probably try to open them to see if they had chocolate inside…”

“You don’t know that!” Babycorn stood up on her tippy toes to try and make herself seem more intimidating. And just like the other times she had tried this, it had pretty much no effect.

“Wait-! Didn’t you actually do that last Valentione's day?” Coco recalled.

Babycorn held her breath, racking her brain for anything she could say that would prove what Coco said wrong. In hindsight she could have said something as simple as ‘No I didn’t!’ but Babycorn very often overcomplicated even the simplest of things. Much like this sentence and the last.

In the end her response was a simple, “Yeah?! So?!”

Lunya thought back to that day in particular. It had taken almost all day for her, Babycorn and the others to apologize to the droves of Mail Moogles on Babycorn’s behalf for committing mail theft. Maybe the promise she made that day not to steal any more mail was the reason why she got so upset before.

Babycorn couldn’t help but notice that everyone’s eyes were on her now. She was mad but she wasn’t sure who she was mad at. It wasn’t at her friends, nor was she mad at Hythlodaeus but maybe she should have been since he was the one who’d given her the troublesome letters in the first place.

Or maybe she was mad at Maize?

She was the one who’d written these stupid love letters in the first place!

“You really wanna know who that letter is for?” Babycorn dreaded what was going to happen in the next few minutes of her life. It almost made her wish she was back at the edge of the universe instead. Almost. “The one you’re holding in your hands right now?”

Lunya nodded. She leaned in holding the letter close to her

‘I know I can always trust you. I’ve always trusted you with everything, and so have you. I know.’

Babycorn hunched down, trying to make herself look as small as possible. A direct contrast to how big she was trying to make herself earlier. Lunya heard her say something, a faint whisper of a-something. Whatever she did say was too soft for any of them to hear.

‘I’ve wanted to ask you if we can run away together! Just the two of us!’

Himbo’s ear twitched, “Uhhh, what was that? Can you speak up?” Not that he was all that curious about the whole love letter affair everyone brought into the restaurant but it was hard not to get a little invested at this point.

‘If our paths ever start to separate, if both of us suddenly lose our way…That’s why…!’

Babycorn’s eye twitched, then all of a sudden, and without any warning, she jumped off of the table she had been standing on.

‘I’ll pull us back together again!’

“Maize wrote that one for Emet-Selch!! There I said it!! She wrote it for him!!!”

The letter in question almost slipped from Lunya’s hands in shock.

Before Lunya could even open her mouth to react accordingly Babycorn pointed at Coco. “And the one Coco’s holding she wrote for Hermes! You know-?! That Hermes?!” Unfortunately, Babycorn decided that she wasn’t going to stop at just those letters.

“The letter written with blood was for a girl that shared a piece of her chocolate with her!”

“And that one’s for a boy who was just in the same play as her!”

“That blue one is for some person who held the door open when she walked in!!”

“Someone delivered food for her twice and she wrote that one!”

“That one’s for Emet-Selch!! AGAIN!!!!”

There were so many letters scattered around that Babycorn spent the next few minutes listing off Maize’s several one off crushes. There were, of course, some repeat ones. As it turned out she had written to a girl that volunteered in a garden more than once and also (to Babycorn’s disappointment) Emet-Selch more than a couple of times.

Babycorn sat down and lowered her head in defeat. “The one Coco’s holding is the last one she wrote…” she let out a sigh and laid down on the table’s bench. It was the one written to Hermes just before the Final days.

Maybe Hythlodaeus had given her Maize’s letters not only because they “belonged” to her but maybe he also thought Babycorn could keep Maize’s business private.

Babycorn hoped that wherever Hythlodaeus was he wouldn’t be too mad about what she just did.

After Babycorn’s several outbursts the entire basement was silent, save for the sound of sizzling coming from the kitchen. When the smell of burning ovim meat started to fill the kitchen Himbo was the first of the group to come out of their shocked states. “Ah?! My meat!!” Himbo adjusted his chef’s hat and ran towards the stove.

Lunya looked at the letter then back at Babycorn then at Coco for good measure. “I see…” was all she said as she made her way over to the bench Babycorn was laying on. They were both very small so there was still room for Lunya to sit next to Babycorn.

Then Lunya let out a snort of laughter.

“Hey!!”

In the span of a second Babycorn sat up straight and turned towards her. Lunya was laughing out loud now, with tears in her eyes. “Lunyaaaaaaa! Noooooo!!! Stop laughiiiing” Babycorn whined, “I knew you guys would make fun of meeeee!” Babycorn used both of her hands to lightly punch Lunya’s shoulders. While Lunya kept laughing louder and louder, Babycorn kept crying her name out in vain.

“Heh.” Andres let out a single laugh. “I can’t believe your Ascian wanted to date skunk man.”

Unfortunately for Babycorn, Lunya was too busy laughing to correct Andres on his terminology.

Instead, Coco took it upon himself to set the record straight. “Um, actually Maize wasn’t an Ascian. She was just an Ancient! Like ours!” Coco looked over to Babycorn, making brief eye contact for a split second. He laughed, “But I guess she did want to date a skunk man.”

Babycorn screamed and jumped over the table to attack Coco.

———————————–          

Lunya placed the last of the bandages on Babycorn, placed squarely on her forehead under her heavy bangs. “There we go!” Lunya took a step back and looked over at the fairly large dent on the floor that Babycorn had created when she crashed into it while trying to attack Coco.

Himbo had run out of the mansion in a hurry to find some way he could fix the floor before the restaurant opened, but not before giving the job of cooking food for the night to Andres. Thus really earning his Himbo namesake.

Coco, still hiding under the table, finally peeked his head out to see if Babycorn was still after his life. Lucky for him (and her) Babycorn had quelled her bloodrage and settled instead for angrily sitting on the floor with her arms and legs crossed.

“I’ve healed most of your injuries away but you have to make sure you don’t go crashing into any more floors.” Lunya flicked away a splinter that Babycorn had gotten in her hair, “Got it?”

As with any instruction that Lunya gave her, Babycorn promised to uphold it for as long as her memory cared to hold onto it. “Yeah…” she sulked, once again remembering the embarrassing ordeal that had occurred just moments before.

Before anyone could stop him, Andres decided to pop into the scene. “Oh my god. I still can’t believe that your weird tall past person wrote all these cringe letters to these people.” Andres would give every can of orange dye in his inventory to be able to read the letters out loud to Babycorn every second of the day.

“Yeah I know.”

Though Babycorn knew very well that just because she was a sundered part of Maize, it didn’t mean that she was Maize. Just a part of a greater whole. She certainly had an easier time wrapping her head around the concept considering her entire history of already being another version of some other person.

“It’s just embarrassing! You guys get it right?!” Babycorn cried, “Like…Like-! She wrote so many of them! And the people she wrote the letters to?! Why did she have to like-like them?! Ugh! Don’t tell me she wanted to marry them! Gross!” Babycorn stuck her tongue out and shook her head in disgust.

Lunya and Coco exchanged a pair of glances. Both of them happened to be privy to just four people Babycorn had actually previously shown more than a speck of romantic feelings for. Those lucky four happened to be Raya-O-Senna, Hildibrand, a random catboy in Gridania who once showed her where the Leatherworker’s Guild was, and a fancy Elezen guy in Ishgard.

Lunya held in a giggle and gave Babycorn a soft pat on her head. Truly the sundered and sliced apple did not fall far from the very tall tree. At least, not in this particular case it didn’t.

“It’s still pretty funny though.” Coco said at the risk of Babycorn leaping up to attack him again but he was 99 percent sure she wouldn’t dare try again.

“It’s hilarious actually.” There was just something inherently funny about Babycorn’s Ancient of all people to have had so many crushes. Lunya could only imagine that this was the exact scenario that Hythlodaeus saw coming when he gave Babycorn those letters.

Not only that, but Emet-Selch himself would probably be just as horrified, if not more so, than Babycorn was to learn that Maize had written love letters to him. Considering they had never been delivered to him.

“Lunyaaaaaa!!!” Babycorn whined again.

Right at that moment in time Babycorn’s traveling backpack came hopping down the stairs and towards them. It had a sad look on its face. Almost like it was actually feeling guilty that it had let all those letters spill out.

While Coco hid behind the table it hopped right past him and stopped in front of Babycorn. “Oh no! I’m sorry I left you alone outside Hungslta! I didn’t mean to!” She grabbed the sad backpack and set it right next to her.

Coco carefully came out of his hiding place, he was shaking all over. “I-It has a name?!” he didn’t want to add yet another thing Babycorn owned to his list of things he was very afraid of.

Lunya looked at the pack as it looked back at her. It looked like her first instinct was right, it was alive. Just a bit. “Aww! It’s cute!” Lunya playfully reached her hand out to give it a little pat before turning back to Babycorn.

Her expression grew serious. “It hasn’t eaten anyone right?”

“No one that I know!”

That wasn’t exactly the answer Lunya was hoping to hear.

At that moment Hungslta began to cough something up. Using one of its straps it reached down its zipper to pull something that it had been carrying around for a while now. 

And to Babycorn’s horror it was-

“Huh?! An Emet-Selch mammet?!” Babycorn screamed, “Where did that come from?!”

Hungslta casually dropped it in Babycorn’s hands, her opinions on Emet-Selch at the moment withstanding, Babycorn would never let a mammet drop onto the ground and potentially break. She promised Cherrypit she would take care of all his dolls, no matter what.

Lunya took the opportunity in Babycorn’s introspective thinking to take the Emet-Selch mammet from her. “Hey?” There was all sorts of confusion in Babycorn’s voice. She wasn’t sure whether or not to be mad that someone had taken it away from her.

Lunya turned the mammet in all sorts of different directions, examining it carefully. Until she held it right side up and pointed it towards Babycorn.

“Aww! Look, I think Maize gave you his eyes!”

Babycorn screamed and ran up the stairs and out of the basement.

Lunya was right behind her, holding up the Emet-Selch minion like one would hold up a baby lion on a giant rock. She was struggling to call after Babycorn with how much she was laughing, “W-Wait! Ha ha! Babycorn you have to reaaaally look!” Babycorn’s screaming could still be heard from downstairs.

Coco scrambled out of his hiding place and followed after Lunya. “D-Don’t leave me here with that thiiiiing!! You guys!!!” He ran up the stairs with his eyes closed in fear, “It’s gonna eaaaat meeeeeee!!!” Coco yelled. Living in a semi-haunted house had made Coco adept at running around with his eyes closed.

Meanwhile, Hungslta happily hopped right behind Coco and up the stairs.

Andres looked up and wondered what the heck everyone was yelling about. And as he flipped a burger in the back he made sure to take note that he had no idea how to cook.

[blkkizzat]

COME PUT THAT MILLI★N D★LLAR PU$$Y ON ME, MAKE ME RICH!

FARMHAND!TOJI X BIMBOBUNNY!READER

☼ summary: au. a quiet farm life and a young pretty thing—what more could an ex-con want? you're a bit of a brat, but that can be fixed too. ☼ wc: 4.0k ☼ cw: age gap, panty flashing, voyeurism, brat!reader, fantasizing, spit play, biting, hickies, breeding kink, olfactophilia, teasing, perverted toji, morally ambiguous toji, creampies, squirting, unprotected, pet names: Bunny and standard p in v stuff. ☼ a/n: idk y'all farmhand!toji possessed my mind. literally did this all in tumblr drafts again today. Lets see if tumblr actually lets me post this or cucks me again.

FarmHand!Toji who only got the job in the first place because of a prison rehabilitation program. It was either work on a farm or rot in a cell for another 2 years.

Toji chose the farm.

The work wasn't easy, but Toji couldn't complain. It was a very large farm, secluded and he was paid well—but most importantly?

It kept his fuckin' P.O. off his back.

Toji works on the farm for three grueling months until you, the farmer's niece, arrives for the summer to also work.

Well, 'work' wasn't really the right word, because you never did any thing of the sort.

Barely, 19 and kicked out of your house for smoking pot. Your parents sent you to your uncle, hoping the hard work and the ex-cons he had working for him would scare you straight. Additionally, due to the fact your Uncle had no wife and no kids, the sole owner of a large farm, the old bastard was pretty well off. As the only child of your dad, his only sibling, farm would eventually be left to you.

Everyone (not like you had a say) agreed you should know how to run it.

But the thing is—you suck at everything.

You're too flighty to work with the chickens, too prissy clean the pig cages and you'd complain you'd break a nail just from lifting an empty bucket—so milking cows were also out of the question.

Yet you still managed to get your work done.

Precisely cause you weren't the one doing it.

Aware of your youthful looks and charms, you don't hesitate to use them to your advantage.

Your shapely curves are always clad in some in a thin wispy dress, which would turn damn near see-through at the smallest bit of moisture. Wearing no bra and the tiniest of panties, you were always giving a show.

No you weren't scared of these ex-cons in the least bit.

Evident by the way you flounce around the farm, unabashfully, pretending to do the chores the women-starved prisoners were too eager to do for you.

For their efforts you reward them with smiles, blown kisses and sugary words. Sometimes for rewards came in the form of a peach you would sneak them from your uncle's grove.

Always bringing one for yourself you'd sensually bite into the ripen fruit. Allowing its juices to linger on your cherry-glossed lips and dribble down your chin—the slurping noises are the perfect fapping fodder for them.

Yet the best prize of all—and only if you were feeling particularly generous—a flash of panties.

Toji though had not fallen for your charms though.

Not that he wasn't susceptible to them, hell naw—he wanted to bend your pretty ass over the nearest fence and roughly fuck some decency, along with manners into your haughty lil' cunt.

But Toji, as well as any of the prisoners, knew better than to touch you. Not only were they risking their freedom, with even the slightest offense here was enough to send them back to the pen—they were also risking their lives.

Your uncle was no fool. The older man regularly carried a sawed off shotgun slung over his shoulder, which used to be a pistol before you arrived.

The farmer didn't make it a big announcement, simply reminding them it was prison or a grave if they fucked this opportunity up—but the underlying message was crystal clear:

He'd blow anyone to hell who even thought about touching his niece.

Oh, but Toji did think about touching you—alot.

Often staying up late in his shared bunk room—jerking his cock to a frilly pair of panties of yours he'd stolen off the laundry line—once he was sure the others had gone to bed.

Toji wants to teach you a lesson badly.

Not for your benefit though, it be payback for all your goddamn teasing.

Toji isn't a pushover for you.

Nicknaming you 'Bunny' since you were such a clumsy lil ditz. He often made his silly lil bunny do whatever work he was stationed at when you had chores there—yours and his.

And oh, you hated that. You only tried harder when none of your pouts, provocations and seductions move him. It was pure hell, but Toji had resisted every trick you had. An unintended benefit however, was that he'd likely seen every pair of panties you owned by now (which is why he had stolen his favorite).

At one point, when you were particularly annoying one day, Toji even tried straight up ignoring you.

Yet that didn't work either.

You only upped the ante, 'accidentally' spilling a whole bucket of cow's milk on yourself. The very color of your perky nips are clearly visible, poking through the now transparent fabric which clings to you like second skin.

Staring Toji dead in his eyes, a coy smile on your plump lips as your pink manicured nails rubbed circles over your soaked nubs.

It took everything Toji had in him that day not to force you down to the dirt floor, fucking your pussy open just as hard and flithy as you'd been asking for.

Turning away from you, he threw a hay laden blanket over you and told you to go back up to the house n' clean up.

Toji didn't miss how badly you pouted, even though he pretended not to care. You reluctantly listened to him, leaving the barn and back to the main house up the hill.

You were both playing with fire.

Yet from that point something broke in Toji.

He still never crosses the line to touching you, but he'd starts pushing your buttons.

He wants to rile you up just as you had him.

As a result, Toji is working around you without a shirt more often—sometimes even with a raging hard on in full view. Also he doesn't hold back any longer from any of the vulgar thoughts of you that cross his mind. Regularly vocalizing them with a smirk, making overtly perverted comments towards you.

This was even something the other prisoners were too pussy to do to, given the very real threats of your farmer uncle.

Yet Toji wouldn't be a two-time ex-con he is if he didn't mind gambling with his life for a big reward. Toji relishes in your flustered, indignant reactions, loving to see how your face heats up everytime without fail every time he teases his lil' slut, his sultry voice whispering things like:

"I bet y'er cunt is riper than those peaches, Bunny."

"Bunny—think your pretty pussy can squirt more milk than these cow udders?"

"I wonder if my lil' Bunny can actually ride dick, since she's not half bad on a horse?"

You'd call him a 'perverted old man' like you weren't anything more than just a causal cocktease yourself—obviously you get some sick satisfaction knowing you had every man on this farm but Toji at your beck and call.

In reality, you were just as twisted in nature as him.

Still you were stubborn.

And as retaliation for his resistance, you play all manners of pranks on Toji. Doing anything you could so it was harder for him to do his job—from stealing his work gloves, boots and tools—to more serious ones like letting a weasel loose in the chicken coop when it was his shift to collect the eggs.

You deemed it your right to punish him for teasing you, for not becoming one of your simps and most fiendish of all?

Making you actually do work.

You harass him so often, it's not long before Toji realizes you're seeking him out intentionally.

Not even bothering to visit the other workstations where your chores are, they would get done by your lil'fan boys regardless, in favor of following him around all day like a lost lil' chick.

On a particularly hot n' sweltering summer day, Toji is stuck with the job of moving machinery from one side of the farm to the other when the sun is at its highest.

Like usual, he's since removed his sweat-drenched work shirt—remaining only in unhooked overalls and his briefs.

Toji hasn't seen you though, which isn't surprising given how broiling it is outside. Someone with as delicate a disposition as you, who also happened to be as manipulative, probably convinced your uncle to let you laze around inside the house, away from the heat—and Toji.

But you were a needy little thing, always seeking attention. Toji occupies his thoughts for most of the morning imagining you growing so bored, not having him to harass and all day.

With idle hands and absolutely nothing else to do, you'd start playing with that plump lil' pussy of yours, wouldn't you?

A supple girl like you had to overflow like a dam. Toji would bet money you'd already be wet enough, even untouched, to drench his fingers—just from palming your ripe pussy in his hand.

He wouldn't mind taking more than a sip of you on a miserable day like this to quench his thirst.

Continuing his work (and lewd thoughts of you) until his break, Toji discovers he's misplaced his work shirt.

Searching for it in the heat proves annoying—it's not on the grazing pasture fences, nor in the workshed by the machines. Tsk, he swore he had taken it with him to his last station near the horses.

Passing by the cow barn, Toji hasn't had a shift in there today but he absentmindedly remembers there's was a water hose in there. He could at least cool off for the remainder of his break—maybe even rub one out to you.

However, upon sliding open the Toji's smirk grows almost bigger than the hefty cock in his pants.

Looks like he hit the jackpot, today.

There you were in the middle the of the barn, on your back in the hay, thin dress bunched up past your hips and panties dangling off one of your shapely legs—all while feverishly fingering your fat wet lil' cunt.

You salaciously had even dripped a dark sizeable puddle on the dusty floor beneath you.

But the cherry on top?

You're quite shamelessly moaning out cries of his name, uncaring of who could happen to passby and hear you.

'T-Toji!'

'T-Toji, fuck me harder, Daddy!'

All while your pretty angelic face is twisted in pleasure, eyes closed and nose buried deep in the fabric of his soiled work shirt.

Daddy? Oh how fucking filthy of you—God you were perfect slut, just his fuckin' type.

Solely focused on cumming, your hips thrust up desperately to meet your fingers as he stalks closer to you—looking every bit of the predatory ex-convict he is.

"Well, well look at what we got ourselves here doll....n'here I thought the only degenerates on this farm were us prisoners?"

Your eyes widen in shock, but you don't stop your fingers right away. You were so close to your release before Toji suddenly appeared in front of you, there's no way you could physically stop chasing it now.

Not when it only takes a lingering glance at his dark features, muscular tanned sweat slick body, and the painfully obvious way his dick jumps in his pants to have you falling over the edge. You gush, mewling as you cream around your delicate lil' fingers.

"You've been a very naughty lil' bunny..."

Sheepishly pulling them out, covered in your slick, Toji's eyes zero in on the way your hole still gapes open. You're cunt quite literally throbbing for more, you'd cum but she's still left unsated.

You clearly needed something much bigger and harder than your flimsy little digits.

You unconsciously back up deeper into the bushels of hay around, putting distance between you as Toji gets closer.

"Tsk, tsk, nuh-uh Bunny, none of that shit. Not when I just caught you being such a whore for me."

You gulp, your heart racing as he crouches over you. Toji removes his work gloves, discarding them as he forces you to lay back on the soft hay.

“How sweet of you to prep yourself for me babydoll. But, Bunny, you dumb little girl, you’re too careless. What if it wasn’t me who walked in 'ere and saw you playing with my pussy?”

You didn't think of that, when you had so brazenly snuck up without him noticing to nab his work shirt.

Initially, you wanted to just be annoying to him again, too bored of being in the house all morning. At first you recoiled when you touched his soggy shirt, yet that all flipped once you caught of whiff of his scent.

Toji smelled of a farm but somehow that smell mixed with sweat, musk and notes of his aftershave hit you straight in your cunt. Your panties becoming just as drenched as the shirt in your hands.

You didn't realize Toji, grimy from farm work, could still smell so good.

Knowing it was far past the time for anyone to come milk cows, you headed straight to that barn. You just wanted some alone time, where you'd be free to touch yourself while thinking of the ridiculously sexy ex-con farmhand.

To say Toji had been plaguing your thoughts and dreams for the past few weeks would have been a massive understatement. You were obsessed with him. Him and his irritatingly smug expression, accentuated by his scar that made him appear all the more dangerous—you wanted him to fuck you—your uncles warnings be damned.

"You tryna get me to do more time, girl? Ya know Bunny, I'd kill anyone who touched you, if your uncle didn't get to 'em first."

Your face is hot with embarrassment but your cunt is also burning up—thinking you might die if he doesn’t actually touch you soon.

Letting his coveralls drop unceremoniously to the floor, he shrugs off his remaining clothes.

Toji's calloused hands, smudged with oil and grime, grab your hips and yank you to him. You yelp and his cock twitches even harder at your cute lil noises, smearing pre on your already soaked thighs.

Toji presses his sweaty body onto yours. It's cool in the barn but Toji's heat is so intense you feel like you are out in the sun again. Having him on top of you like this finally is overwhelming your senses. Toji is intoxicating and you're so feral with need for him it makes you dizzier than a heatstroke.

Fuck, you looked so ready for him.

He'd love you take his time to really break you in—make you fall apart until he's screwed every word out of your head but his own name.

Tch—but there's about 10 more minutes left of his break—and a good 15 or so more after that before anyone notices he's not where he should be.

Toji would reluctantly have to make this quick. Snatching your dress off overhead, he tosses it across the barn.

Mouth latching to one of your stiffened nipples, Toji simultaneously bullies his cockhead past your entrance, sinking into your slippery cunt.

Both of your collective groans fill the barn.

Goddamn, you're fuckin' tight.

Your eyes go wide and moisture pricks your vision as the sting of his girthy cock splitting you open nearly brakes you. You weren't a virgin by any means, and you knew Toji was huge—but shit—it was way bigger in thickness and length than you could have imagined.

Toji has to physically take your legs and wrap them around his body so they stop convulsing.

You whine for him to wait a moment but he couldn't—he didn't have the time.

Toji cups your face, unintentionally smearing dirt across your warm pristine lil' cheek.

"Daddy doesn't have time to wait for ya Bunny, can't get caught by y'er mean ole uncle, yeah?"

"*sniffs* I-I know, b-but—"

"No buts, baby—you want me to fuck ya, rite? Then just lay back and be good doll—promise I'll make ya feel good, eh?"

You can't stop the tears that roll down your cheeks, the burning still evident in your cunt as your walls spasm around him. Toji nuzzles your neck, grunts fanning across your sweetly scented skin as he begins moving his hips.

Soon the sounds of wet flesh smacking, resound in the barn with every harsh thrust of Toji's broad hips. The sloppy squelching noises your pussy cries out has Toji feeling like she's talking directly to him.

Sweat drips off his brow and onto your face as he pulls back a bit to see just how well your slutty lil' hole is globbling him right up—you already frothing a ring of cream around his base like such a good girl—like you were made to take his dick.

Your teeth bite into his shoulder and your nails rake red streaks across his back when his fat cockhead brushes against your g-spot.

Instantly, the shocks vibrating in your cunt overtake any remaining discomfort from your pussy accommodating his massive cock. Your tiddies bounce violently whe he picks up speed rocking into your cunt—spurred on by your cute bites gnawing into him.

Toji would mark you up similarly.

God you were so fuckin' wet though, milking him so well.

For all the trouble you gave him your lil' pussy was obedient as hell once she got a lil' dick in her.

"T-Tojiiiii, puh-leaseee k-kiss me, Daddy!"

Slurring, you gaze up at him, eyes blown out in pleasure begging for more of him—for anything he'd give you.

"Yeah, baby, Bunny wants Daddy to kiss her, hm?"

You frantically nod, your whole body is tingling. You just want to feel him consume you completely, all parts of you.

"Heh, of course I'll kiss my lil' bunny—only if ya let me cum ya—m-motherfuck—ya know how long its been since I had pussy this good doll? Gotta cum in 'er."

Mewling under him, you're easily left at his mercy—yet Toji would show you none, devouring you just as greedily as you wanted him to. Your body responds so well to his praises, so needy for them and Toji doesn't mind indulging you when you're being this sweet for him.

Throwing your legs onto his shoulders, Toji raises your ass off the hay onto his knees as he folds your body in half—fucking into you deeper, abusing your cervix as he smashed his lips onto yours.

Truthfully, there's no way in hell Toji would pull out now.

Making the decision for you, the kiss Toji gives you is searing hot. Sucking on your tongue, Toji has you melting you completely under him, your pussy clamping harder around him. His deviant tongue and heavy cock fucking you into submission.

Hell, she was begging him to cum in her even if you weren't or couldn't—you looked absolutely gone—like not even the smallest thought lived in your fucked out lil' head.

Even when Toji pulls back to allow you air his lips never leave yours, biting your kiss swollen bottom lip almost to the point of drawing blood.

You tighten even more than Toji thought possible in the moment once he forced your mouth open and spits into it and your instantly swallowing it—sticking your tongue out for more.

Oh? Bunny becomes such a dirty whore once you're fucking her silly, eh?

Toji wonders what else of his you'd swallow. He'd save that for next time though.

For now Toji had to finish you, he was running out of time. Besides, he was speaking true earlier, he really hadn't had good pussy—pussy at all—in literal fuckin' years. Toji didn't think he could last much longer in a hole with as much wet suction as yours, even if he did have more time.

Slipping a hand between your slick bodies, Toji is now furiously thumbing circles on your sensitive clit.

"C'mon, Bunny baby, cum for Daddy, yeah? Squirt on this dick, just like you did your fingers earlier, doll."

Your body, utterly under the spell of his engorged cock which was currently digging into your kidneys, can't do anything but obey him.

Tumbling over your peak, you do as he asks, splashing fluids onto his pelvis, abs and chest with how much squirt he has gushing out of you.

Your head lulls back and Toji has to clasp his hand over your mouth from how loud you started screaming.

His own release follows soon after. Pumping his extra-thick load, all built up and saved over the years for a pussy as sweet as yours, into your well-fucked-open cunt.

Curses and swears pour out of Toji's mouth as remains side you, still pistoning in you with fervor through both your orgasms. Toji doesn't leave the snug warmth of your gooey core until you squeezed out every single drop he had to give you.

Pulling out, Toji immediately rolls over next to you as not to crush you further. Yet, like a magnet, his needy lil' bunny is curling up against his side, a sleepy sated expression on your angelic face.

Toji hated to leave, but he had to haul ass now if he wasn't gonna get caught.

A crude form of aftercare, but Toji hoses the both of you down.

The cold water snapping you from your lethargic afterglow immediately as you pouted and whined—the brat in you almost instantly returning.

But Toji couldn't just let you sleep ass naked, covered in his cum in the hay for your uncle to find you or worse—another prisoner to find you.

Toji was serious. He really would kill someone if they tried anything with you, he'd taken many innocent lives before as a former hitman—he had no qualms killing some no good convicts.

Setting you upright, Toji finds your dress in the hay and puts it on you. It's soiled and dusty but he straightens it enough so you're at least halfway presentable.

Toji knows you're clever enough to think of a lie if questioned further.

Although, you'd better back to the main house quickly, in case those hickies he gave you start showing up. Toji smirks to himself.

Sending you on your way with quick sloppy kiss and a firm smack on the ass, he lets you leave first.

After waiting a few minutes, Toji exits the barn, grinning devilishly upon seeing you.

You're halfway back up the hill to the house by now, but you still steal glances back at him every few paces. Still panting, you're too shy now to meet his own eyes for longer than a second with your coy smiles.

Toji chuckles.

He had you hooked.

Hah, a slut like you? You'd probably be begging for his cock all throughout the day from now on.

However, Toji knows if he keeps fucking you like this he'll soon get you pregnant.

But ya know? That might not be half bad though.

This simple farm life had been a nice change of pace.

And who wouldn't want a young n' tender cunt like yours to dump in daily? Toji would keep you stuffed full, belly round with his kids and soft tiddies full of milk—for his consumption only.

Toji muses once he had finished fucking the brat out of you, Bunny, you'd become the perfect lil' wifey.

It be good for Megumi to have a mom again and some siblings to keep em busy. Toji would finally have a decent place to raise him too, away from the city and his toxic as fuck family who'd Megumi had been with since the first time his dad got locked in the slammer.

Not to mention—the farm was a perfect cover for his con activities that he couldn't wait to back start up.

He'd only able to do so much with the burner phone Shiu smuggled-in for him, concealing in a shipment of animal feed.

Heh.

All Toji needed now was to knock you up, apply pressure on your strict, God-fearing parents to agree to the marriage, and then orchestrate an 'untimely and unfortunate accident' for your uncle. Thereby leaving the farm and the substantial inheritance to you—and by proxy—to him.

Yeah, FarmHand!Toji planned to become Farmer!Toji real soon.

©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or gfx, do not translate.

☼ a/n: y'all toji be making me write the most twisted nastiest things for him. i realize soft toji just don't do it for me like depraved toxic morally corrupt toji does, i really would let this man ruin my credit fr y'all, he can have it all.

i didn't expect to write this, all in a day but im at the beck and call of my main mans. otaku!gojo and nerd!gero lovers dun hurt me. taglist in reblogs.

☼ comments and reblogs appreciated ‪‪❤︎‬

[sheepston]

The chicken apparels are making me feel like when its not almost 3am I should write a follow up fic for how Lefu is doing (she's VERY happy after running away!)

[cherrychilli]

18+ Eddie Munson x f! reader, best friend! Eddie, friends to lovers, mentions of bodily injury, mentions of masturbation (m), oral sex(m)

Summary: Eddie hurts his dick and as his best friend, you decide to help him ease his pain.

WC: 3K

A/N: I am so tickled by the idea of Eddie wrecking his cock and balls on accident so I had to write about it and wedge in some spice as well. Enjoy!

When Eddie had told you he wasn't feeling well enough to hangout tonight he should have realized that someone like you, caring and loyal almost to a fault, would take it upon themselves to help in any way they could, showing up at his trailer a few hours later with dinner and a zipper pouch full of medicine he might need.

"Ding dong, I'm here to take care of you, Munson", you'd gleamed at him playfully.

It was no secret that he didn't take the best care of himself whenever he was under the weather. Eddie was known for skipping his meds and spending most of the day swathed in a cocoon made of blankets, emerging hours later to pad into the kitchenette where he'd nibble at cold, leftover takeout before weakly traipsing back to bed.

So, when you showed up at his front door with your arms wound around a thermos full of homemade chicken soup and a Tupperware container warm with baked salmon, he should have felt happy. He should have felt grateful for the trouble you'd gone through just to make sure that he ate well and was looked after while he was on his own but instead, all he felt was the sharp, piercing sting of guilt.

The thing was, Eddie wasn't really sick.

He wasn't running a fever like he'd claimed over the phone. He'd purposely hidden the real reason why he couldn't come over to your place and watch a movie like the two of you had planned because well, he was embarrassed.

The truth was, Eddie couldn't come hangout because his dick and balls were killing him.

It had happened last night.

He'd been spread out on the couch while Wayne was away, dressed only in a pair of boxers snug around his hips with a movie playing on TV to keep him entertained throughout the night.

As usual, a blunt was held between his plush lips for most of the evening too, a bottle of jack by his feet which he'd pick up and gulp from time to time.

The combination of alcohol and the weed served a particular purpose that night – helping to make the tooth achingly bad acting in Zombie Lake more tolerable, a movie he'd picked solely for the gratuitous nudity.

Forty minutes of naked, unsuspecting women wading in zombie infested waters later and he was more than a little strung out at that point, rendered blissfully languid while he lay slumped against the couch.

Eddie had picked that moment to reach for the whiskey with his bloodshot, half lidded eyes still plastered on the TV screen, missing twice before he managed to pick it up with light fingers.

Bringing the three quarters full bottle up to his lips for another swig, that was when the booze slipped out of his loose grip, too high to react quickly enough and catch it before it was too late.

With his thighs spread far apart, the full weight of the bottle landed directly on his crotch, the pain shooting from between his legs like daggers, enough to make him feel like the air had been kicked right out of his lungs.

The carpet and couch soaked up most of the spilled whiskey, the nearly empty bottle lying on its side on the floor while Eddie couldn't do much but cup both hands over his junk and curl into himself, trying to grunt, groan and hiss through the pain as tears brewed in his eyes.

Now, it's almost been a full 24 hours since the incident happened but his dick's still super sore from the impact. And to make matters worse his balls are blue in more ways than one.

See, Eddie's got the kind of sex drive that had him jacking off at least twice a day to keep himself sane but now thanks to his injury, he's already feeling pent up, unable to tug his swollen cock and give himself that much needed release.

So, though your outfit isn't provocative, it's still you, his best friend whom he's harbored less than platonic feelings for so of course your denim shorts and your tank top are making him want to act up, the swirling desire at the base of his stomach burning even hotter with the way you're taking care of him, showing him a level of concern no one else has before.

It isn't fair, he thinks, having to sit across from you on the couch while he tries to fight off the growing ache in his cock, tries to will his sore member soft for the sake of your friendship as well as curbing his own pain.

You're yet to notice his dilemma though, rummaging through your bag while Eddie tries not to let the scent of your body wash trigger flashes of you sitting in your bath tub with your bare tits above water, all wet and soapy with your nipples all hard and the bubbles trailing between your cleavage and–

"Shit", he hisses when a twinge of pain flares as his dick starts to twitch in his sweats.

"Everything okay, Eds?", you look up from your bag when you hear it but he's quick to wipe the grimace from his face, faking his best smile at you.

"All good. So, what are we doing next?"

He's relieved when he watches your soft smile slowly return to your face, the kind that reaches your eyes and curves your lips in that way that makes him want to reach out and cup your cheek, running his thumb over your soft skin before he tells you how pretty he thinks you are.

"How about casual sex?", you ask, all chipper.

"…what?"

In an instant Eddie's whole body alternates between flashes of frigid cold and scorching hot. Had he heard you right? were you…offering? fuck, his dick is throbbing so bad in his sweats right now.

You dive your hand back into your bag, pulling out a VHS tape and holding it out for Eddie to see.

"Figured a comedy would be for the best", you waved the tape in his gawking face, his stomach somersaulting when he reads the title. Of all the movies you could have picked, you just had to go pick the one called Casual Sex? didn't you?

"Plus, I know how much you like Lea Thompson so I figured this would be a good pick", you smiled sweetly at him, tapping a finger over the actress pictured on the cover.

Another sharp prick of guilt and another dull ache radiates in Eddie's crotch because his mind's being especially cruel to him right now, dredging up unwanted memories of the time he wore out a copy of Howard the Duck by beating his meat to Lea Thompson's scenes all day and night.

"Uh, got anything else?", he croaks, clearing his throat when you narrow your eyes at him a little suspiciously.

After a little back and forth, the two of you end up watching The Thing to Eddie's relief. Nothing there that might trigger a boner except the couple of times you squealed adorably when Kurt Russell popped up on screen, kicking your feet and hugging your knees to your chest, inadvertently making your cleavage more noticeable over the neckline of your tank top.

Eddie's able to ignore it for the most part, that was until you offered to help clean up a little once the movie was over, bending over in your denim shorts to gather the empty soda cans sitting on the table in front of the couch.

Despite the alarm bells echoing in his head, he can't seem to help it, eyes trailing up the back of your smooth, bare thighs, settling on your ass and the way he can just about make out a peek of your cheeks now that your shorts have ridden up high.

Oh shit.

Up until now you'd been pretty pert all night but when you turn around, you're instantly startled by the look on Eddie's face, all twisted up and pinched as he presses a cushion into his lap and begins to wince.

"Eddie, what's wrong?", you set the cans aside, dropping back down on to the couch beside him.

Yet another flash of pain courses through him when he catches sight of the way your breasts bounce in your tank top when you take a seat. Jesus, this wasn't going to be easy, was it?

Eddie tries to mask it but you can read the pain there easily, especially when you're so close to him now, close enough that your shoulder brushes against his bicep.

"Eddie please, you can tell me. What's wrong?"

If there was a way out of this without having to admit the truth, without having to tell you how he'd given a whole new meaning to the term whiskey dick, he couldn't seem to find it, feeling helpless as he crumbles under the weight of your concerned, round-eyed stare.

"I lied, okay? I'm not sick, I just…"

Insides twisting, he has to squeeze his eyes shut the moment he sees the confusion register on your face, the way your eyebrows draw together and your eyes narrow. It's too much for him to handle and it all comes flooding out at once.

"I dropped a bottle of whiskey on my dick last night and now the damn thing's killing me because you look so– uh. Fuck. You look so…like, this and it's just– it's a lot"

Daring to open his eyes again, he finds that your own eyes have gone understandably wide, your lips slightly parted too and he hates himself for thinking how badly he'd like to slip his fingers between them and watch you suck.

"Oh. So like, is it– are you hurt badly?", you break the silence after a few seconds of processing his word vomit, blinking up at Eddie like you're fascinated to learn more about his injured cock.

"I mean, I don't think it's anything I need to go to hospital over but yeah. Hurts a lot", he replies a little sheepishly, a side of Eddie you don't see very often because he's far and away from the shy type that's for sure.

"Like when you get hard?", you tilt your head to the side curiously.

Eddie blinks back at you when you say it, clearly taken aback by how casually you're treating this whole situation after how hard he'd tried to hide it but he manages to answer you with a slow nod.

He shivers next when suddenly you drop your gaze to the cushion he's got pressed over his aching boner. "Hm… it’s probably not going to go away anytime soon either, huh? we should do something about that", you suggest thoughtfully.

In that moment, all he can do is look at you in disbelief, sweat beading at his temple and his fingers trembling on top of the cushion. This couldn't really be happening, could it? His best friend since, forever, offering to get him off?

Eyes drifting up to his once more, you lean a little closer, voice dropping down to a whisper. "I could help you", you offer, tentatively placing your hand on Eddie's knee. "Only if you want me to."

Adams apple bobbing, it hurts Eddie when he swallows, finding his throat's turned dry and tight in the last few seconds.

"Seriously? you'd actually do that? um, are you sure?"

You bite back a laugh because the look on his face is nothing short of adorable, all wide eyed and eager like a puppy awaiting a treat.

"Well, you could sit here with your bruised dick and keep whimpering like a baby or you could let me make you feel better. What's it going to be, Eds?", you quirk up an eyebrow at him at the same time the corner of your mouth picks up into a playful smirk.

"The second one please", he answers quickly, his cheeks flooding with so much color you kind of want to pinch them and tease him about how cute he looks right now.

"Thought so."

Smiling, you pick yourself up off the couch, carefully lowering yourself to kneel between Eddie's legs when you place your hands on his knees and gently encourage him to spread them apart.

He's quick to help you when you reach for the waistband of his sweatpants next, carefully pulling both it and his boxers down to finally free his cock.

For both of you, it's surreal being in this position – Eddie with his cock out, all hard and throbbing for you and you wedged perfectly between his legs like a puzzle piece he'd been searching for all his life.

You have to take a few seconds to admire it; the way the length of him blushes red and curves up towards his belly, the way the many veins wrap around his thickness and the dark, wiry thatch of hair at his base, untrimmed and full. Just how you'd always imagined based on how wild Eddie kept the hair on his head.

Eyes trailing lower, you have to resist the urge to palm his balls to keep from possible hurting him. You want to feel the weight of them in your hand though because you can't help but think they look so full and that makes you feel sorry for Eddie and how he'd had to deal with that discomfort all day.

The thought has you pushing your lips out into a sympathetic little pout, hand reaching out to finally touch him. Gently, you use your fingers to pull back his soft foreskin, leaning forward and parting your lips to delicately kitten lick at his red, leaking tip, keeping your eyes fixed on his face for any signs of discomfort.

You're pleased to find none, chest blooming with pride as you watch complete bliss wash over Eddie's face, swirling your tongue gently and collecting beads of precum when you hear him sigh and moan with relief.

"Oh my god, that's – that's really fucking good. Please keep going", he whines unabashedly because that persistent ache that's been troubling him since last night is being soothed so fucking well by your eager tongue. At this point he doesn't even care what kind of sounds you might pull out of him, desperate to feel more of your touch.

"Don't think I'm gonna last long", he gulps when you blink up at him with your pretty lips wrapped around his tip. "Your mouth feels too good."

His words make your confidence rise like steadily billowing smoke. "You don't need to", you tell him truthfully. "I just want to make you feel better", pressing a sweet kiss to the top of his smooth head, loving the way his breath stutters when you do it and the feeling of his sticky precum coating your lips in a shiny film. Like he's marking you..

As you continue, you refrain from using your hands while you pleasure him, keeping them pressed flat against his inner thighs, using only your mouth to kiss and lick up and down his rigid shaft as your nose nudges against it softly, returning to suckle at his tip from time to time.

It's easy to tell how badly Eddie must have needed this because he's unravelling so quickly under your touch as he throws his head back against the couch, his hands balled into fists by his sides while he whimpers about how well you're doing.

He's so pretty like this with his neck bared to you but you miss his gaze, removing your swelling lips from his cock to coax him back. "Don't hold back with me, Teddie. Tell me what you need and I'll give it to you", you coo earnestly.

Lifting his cloudy head to look down at you, it's Eddie's turn to surprise you when he brings one hand up to brush back a few strands of hair that'd gotten stuck to your damp cheek, a brief moment of tenderness that makes the butterflies resting in the depths of your stomach wake and beat their wings.

"Could you go a little lower?", he asks you, chest heaving and lips slightly pink from biting.

"Want me to lick your balls?", you try to clarify.

That makes him chuckle, a sweet, airy sound that makes you feel like there's sunlight spilling through the spaces between your ribs, filling up your whole chest with pleasant warmth.

"When d'you start talking like this, huh? Y' got such a dirty mouth on you, sweetheart", he teases you lightly, pulling his hand back so you can get back to working him.

You simply smile against his shaft in reply, feigning coy and innocence while trailing kisses lower and lower until you reach the seam of his balls. Placing your warm tongue flat against it, you draw it up slowly, wetting his heated skin before pressing more kisses against his sack, giggling when the hair there starts to tickle your lips.

"Think you can handle it if I take you in my throat? I'll go slow, I promise", you speak up from between his legs.

Given how often he's pumped his cock to the very thought of you throating him, Eddie nearly trips over himself trying to find the words to answer.

"Holy shit, yes please", he manages to let out with a strained groan.

That's all you needed to hear before you're taking him into your mouth again, bobbing up and down a few times slowly, careful not to let your teeth scrape his sensitive skin before you bob deeper and let him reach the back of your throat, triggering your gag reflex and making your throat close around him nice and tight.

"Baby– baby, fuck I'm going to cum", he gasps, hips jerking, eyes squeezing shut.

And that's all the warning he can manage to give you before he's spilling down your throat, thick, creamy ropes of it which you swallow down eagerly and as best as you can.

Most of it slides down the warm, wet contracting walls of your throat but you realize just how pent-up Eddie must have been when your cheeks puff out a little with a generous amount of his cum that you couldn't manage to gulp down fast enough, pulling off of Eddie's softening cock with a mouthful of spend sitting warm on your tongue, coating the insides of your cheeks.

Sitting there on your knees while Eddie pants and recuperates, a deeply curious part of you has you swishing his cum in your mouth, savoring the distinct, tangy taste of him before you part your lips and let him look inside.

Exhausted but entirely amazed, he gawks at you and the viscous mess of spit and semen in your mouth, tempted to stick his own tongue in there and taste himself on you before you press your swollen lips back together and promptly swallow, a beaming smile breaking out on your face.

"See? told you I'd take care of you."

[disaster-writer]

Obsessed

Pairing: Pro-hero!Bakugo Katsuki x Reader

Summary: Bakugo is obsessed with your ex and it’s driving you up a wall (Inspired by Olivia Rodrigo’s song Obsessed)

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Smut, 18+

A/N: a few weeks ago I saw a post that was about this same concept, and I couldn’t find it to link it here unfortunately. I just thought it fit so well with him that I wanted to write my own take on it. Also this is just comedy, obviously his behavior in this would be problematic in real life so I’m definitely not condoning his obsession.

Minors DNI

Bakugo Katsuki’s eyes danced from cover to cover of every one of the magazines stocked in the stand at the convenience store he regularly stopped at after work. Each one baring a hero with advertisements of their interview inside. He noticed that some of his friends had even made the cover, notably Shitty Hair’s and Racoon Eye’s engagement announcement and a magazine that Dunce Face had recently modeled for.

But there was one specific cover he was glaring at.

His hands crackled.

Fuck it.

He hadn’t hesitated any longer before grabbing the magazine and staring at it with scrutinizing eyes.

Fucking Hawks

That fucking asshole was on the cover of another magazine— as if the other million with him on it wasn’t good enough.

He rifled through the pages, landing on the one that the cover said his interview would be on. It wasn’t one, or two, but four fucking pages long.

He read it furiously, eyes bouncing from each and every word.

‘What would you say is the most rewarding part of your hero work?’

Who gives a crap.

‘How have you learned to balance fame with being a hero?’

Absolute shit question.

‘Everyone knows you have a large female fanbase, so we’re all curious to know why you think that is?’

Because they’re all fucking idiots with shit taste, that’s why.

‘About two years ago you were part of a pretty big scandal when you were seen leaving your agency hand in hand with a hooded woman. Now that some time has passed are you willing to admit that she’s your girlfriend?’

No she was his fucking girlfriend, not that fucking asshole pretty boys—

The magazine blew up in his hands.

”Hey!” The store clerk yelled at the hero, “I don’t care if you’re a hero, you have to pay for that! What kind of business do you think I’m running!?”

“HAH!?” Bakugo puffed up his chest with a sneer as he stormed up to the counter, “MAYBE YOU SHOULDN’T KEEP SHIT MAGAZINES HERE IF YOU DON’T WANT THEM BLOWN UP! GET SOME BETTER SHIT! I’M OUTTA HERE!” He yelled furiously at the man before storming out of the store and slamming the door shut, shattering its glass.

The clerk ran up to the door in a rage, screaming something or other at the hero as he stormed down the sidewalk angrily.

He’d probably need to find a new convenience store.

Bakugo continued to stomp his way down the sidewalk as he walked to your apartment. He shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled his phone out, pulling up google.

He found his fingers quickly tapping away at the screen.

Hawks

Picture after picture of that stupid hero came up and his finger swiped through each one as he sneered at his stupid face that even Bakugo couldn’t deny was objectively attractive— not to mention he had this air of coolness around him, making every single goddamned thing he did seem effortless.

Bakugo was seething, passerby’s staring at him in fear as they watched him silently rage on such a beautiful, clear day.

Before he knew it, he was standing in front of your door, shoving the spare key under the mat into the lock.

”Hey, Kat!” You chirped, looking over at him from the kitchen, “How was work?”

“Fine,” he grumbled, walking over to you and taking a peak at the dinner you were cooking. Looked like chicken soup but knowing you and your cooking skills it was probably some amalgamation of whatever was in your fridge. “Couldn’t fuckin wait an hour?”he grumbled— he would’ve cooked for you if you weren’t so damn impatient.

”You were taking too long,” you whined, throwing some celery into the pot. “I got hungry.”

He grunted, reaching for your hips and turning you into him, slamming his lips into yours.

Hawks probably used to kiss you more gently— he could just picture him seducing you into kissing him, making you chase for it. 

Not Bakugo. No, if he wanted to kiss you then he was going to fucking kiss you.

You pulled away breathlessly, a hairs breadth away from him, “Whoa— what was that for?”

He stared down at you with hooded eyes.

He was better than Hawks.

He could even prove it.

He turned the stove off and picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder.

”Hey— what are you doing!” You yelped, kicking your legs. 

“Bedroom,” he grunted.

”But what about dinner?” 

“I’ll fix whatever mess you started in there later. I’m making sure you work up a real appetite.”

* * * *

Bakugo’s hips smacked against your ass sharply, balls hitting your clit with every thrust, each slap louder than your muffled moans in the pillow you clung to for dear life.

One hand gripped the headboard as his other gripped your hip in a bruising hold. He stared at you, hunched over your trembling body as tears clung to your lashes.

Hawks couldn’t fuck you like this— no damn way. 

But what if he could— he technically was the number two hero, while Bakugo was still stuck at number 15.

What if he fucked you better?

The thought had Bakugo fisting your hair and pulling you up, freeing your pleasured moans and cries.

”K-Kat— ah, fuck—“

Did you even mean to say his name? What if you really meant to say Hawks’— what if you meant Hawks every single time you ever said his name?

”Tell me you’re mine,” he grunted.

”’M yours— all yours Kat— only yours,” you babbled uselessly. He’d be lying if it wasn’t one of his favorite things about you in bed, given any sort of prompt and you just ran with it. 

“Who fucks you this good?”

”Y-you! You do!— You fuck me so good Kat—ah- best cock I’ve ever had—“

He growled, wrapping his arms around you and hoisting you up, now fucking up into you as he held you against him, head lolling on his shoulder.

He bit down on your neck hard, making you cry out as he started sucking on it, sure to leave a nasty hickey behind.

Maybe Hawks would see. He knew neither of you even talked anymore but what if he’s just on patrol, sees you, decides to say hi, and finds that dark bruise right on your neck, sucked raw.

The thought had him bouncing you faster against him, his muffled groans into your neck sounding with your high pitched cries of his name.

He wound his hand down to your clit and rubbed back and forth furiously.

”Oh fuck—“ you sobbed, body arching and trying to get away, but he tightened his arm around you and held you in place.

”Cum pretty girl, cum around the best fucking cock you’ve ever taken.”

You came with a shrill cry, grasping for any part of him you could hold onto.

He came soon after, inside. 

He knew he shouldn’t but something about cumming in you sated whatever beast was inside him.

You whined as you slumped into his arms, weak and shaky.

”You promised Kat.”

”Couldn’t help it.”

”Then you’re wearing condoms again.” You huffed as he lowered you down on your side of the bed.

He tsked, “Go on birth control.”

”I’m not fucking with my hormones.”

”Damn woman,” he growled, laying beside you, “I’ll get you a plan B, just quit your whining.”

”You’re wearing a condom next time.”

”Yeah yeah, fine.”

”And go make dinner.”

He pulled you against him, your body curling against him with your head on his chest. “In a second. Lemme catch my breath and help clean you up first.”

You huffed but nuzzled against him. 

He liked having you curled up against him but he couldn’t deny there was an ulterior motive to him ‘catching his breath’.

He just really loved the fact that you were laying with his cum dripping out of you right now.

Not Hawks’s cum— Katsuki’s

The rest of the night went as it routinely did for the most part. He fixed the mess of the soup you were working on before eating you out and making you cum three times then fucking you for a second time… then a third time.

And when you thought he was finally done, you went to shower and get on with your shower routine only for him to walk in half way through your shower with his dick hard again.

He fucked you for a fourth time.

All with a condom.

”Seven times,”  you breathed as your head hit the pillow. “You made me cum seven times tonight.”

Your limbs were sore, Bakugo had to carry you to bed. Your legs were basically useless now. 

“What’s gotten into you tonight— it’s only a Tuesday.”

Marathon’s like these weren’t exactly out of the norm, but tonight felt so unprompted. 

He grunted, turning on his side and pulling you against his chest, clinging to you like a Koala.

”I’m not allowed to want to fuck my girlfriend?” He murmured into your hair.

”No… just felt out of no where that’s all.”

”What? You didn’t like it?” He growled defensively.

You rolled your eyes, slotting your legs with his. Everything was always so dramatic with him, “No I liked it. Best cock I’ve ever had, remember?” You snickered.

His arms tightened around you… now he was thinking of the other cock you’ve taken.

”Better than the birds?”

“Oh my god,” you hissed, annoyance dripping from every word, “Really Katsuki? This again?”

”What? It’s a simple fucking question.”

”Yes. Your cocks better than Keigo’s. Happy now?”

Silence filled the room. You thought maybe he dropped it and you closed your eyes.

”Are you just saying that to shut me up?”

”Kat,” you snapped, eyes opening again. “Drop it. I’ve already told you everything about that relationship. Just move the fuck on— I already have.”

He was silent once again.

”Do you still have his number in your phone?”

You cursed to yourself… this was going to be a longer night than you thought.

* * * *

Bakugo stared out the window as you snored lightly in your sleep, burying his nose in your freshly washed hair.

He couldn’t sleep knowing he was laying in the same spot Hawks once had.

Did he used to hold you just like this too?

When you mentioned your ex in past conversations he had thought nothing of it. You were a civilian, your life was normal, he always figured this ex you mentioned was some boring ass nine to five guy that put the most generic shit in a dating profile like ‘Favorite Hobby: Traveling’.

Of course Bakugo would be better than that guy.

Come to find out you were in a long term relationship with the number fucking two hero.

What the fuck was it about you that attracted high ranking heroes of all people. 

Like yeah you were cool and fun and magnetic and didn’t take shit from anyone— you were even able to go head to head with him in a screaming match which shouldn’t have been as attractive as he found it. Not to mention how fucking hot you were…

Okay fine, Bakugo thought you were goddamned perfect any man would be a fucking idiot if they didn’t find you any less than perfect like he did.

But still.

Number fucking two.

Hawks had always been cool and collected, saving people every day without lifting a finger. He dominated the skies and had a trail of girls drooling after him. The media loved him— everyone loved him.

Bakugo on the other hand… not so much. How could you go from someone like Hawks to Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight.

From number two to number 15.

One day he would become number one but he still wasn’t quite there yet.

Ever since he found out he had found himself thinking of the hero more than he ever had before. Hawks dominated every second of his life.

Is he still friends with your friends? Is he good in bed? Do you ever think about him? Is he easy-going? Not controlling like Bakugo sometimes could be?

Oh god.

He had issues.

* * * * 

“Y’know they were in love,” Bakugo practically gagged.

Kirishima side eyed his friend.

He was seriously over talking about Hawks every single time he patrolled with Bakugo.

”Isn’t she in love with you now?”

”That’s what she says,” he grumbled.

”You don’t believe her?”

”No, I believe her. I just think she’s confused.”

He was really starting to lose it, huh?

”Don’t you think,” Kirishima started, choosing his next words carefully as he waved at a little kid they walked by, elbowing Bakugo to do the same. “It’s unhealthy to think about your girlfriend’s ex this much? It’s been like two years since they broke up hasn’t it?”

”19 months and three days.”

Oh boy.

”Okay… have you tried talking to her about your obsession—“

”IT’S NOT A FUCKING OBSESSION!” He suddenly exploded, hands crackling. “WHY DOES EVERYONE KEEP SAYING THAT!”

Kirishima didn’t even flinch as he screamed, instead offering an apologetic smile to the civilians on the sidewalk. “Maybe because you started asking how he is in bed after you two had sex?”

”SHUT UP SHITTY HAIR, NO ONE ASKED YOU!”

“So you haven’t talked to her then?”

Bakugo growled in response.

”Maybe talk to him?”

Bakugo looked over at his friend, eyes wide as he watched Kirishima walk beside him with his arms crossed behind his head, staring up at the sky. “Talk to Hawks?”

The idea had never struck him before.

”Yeah. Maybe you just need to meet him. You’ve probably just built up this grand image of him that the media keeps perpetuating— he might not be as perfect as you think, they always did say never to meet your heroes.”

Meet Hawks.

Meet Hawks.

Yeah— he could do that.

Bakugo was suddenly blasting away from his friend.

”Hey! We’re still doing a job you know!?” 

“I’m working by myself today!” He called out behind him.

Bakugo was on a mission.

He was going to meet Hawks and give him a piece of his mind.

The hero was often spotted perching on rooftops, miles away from his agency as any villain with a brain would know better than to commit a crime right by a hero agency— Hawks’s agency especially.

So Bakugo found himself bounding from rooftop to rooftop, searching the skies for that damn bird— he was also keeping an eye on the city, he was still a hero with a job after all.

But as the sun started to set, Bakugo grew restless, finally deciding to take a break and lay on one of the many rooftops he landed on.

No damn sign of him.

Of course he’d be hard to catch, his whole schtick was being fast.

Bakugo’s eyes narrowed at a cloud that reminded him of bird wings. He wondered if you two ever got up to weird sexual shit with those stupid wings.

His chest felt so damn tight every time he thought of him, like he could explode at any second.

He knew so much useless crap about him now that he read and watched practically every single interview of his.

He was a Capricorn.

His blood type was B.

He was 5’7” and 3/4.

His favorite food was chicken— goddamn cannibal.

He wondered if that was why you were in the habit of cooking chicken for dinner most nights.

You were together for two and a half years, that was a long time to spend with someone. What mannerisms have you picked up from him that he always believed were yours?

He pulled out his phone and pulled up Hawks’s instagram, scrolling through perfect photo after perfect photo of him and reading his replies to fan comments.

Damn bird probably didn’t even run his own account.

He tapped on his tags, scrolling down to one of the many photos that haunted him.

He remembered the news at the time, headlines reading ‘Pro-Hero Hawks Has A Girlfriend’ and ‘Sorry Ladies, This Hero is Taken’.

At the time he couldn’t give less of a shit, but now.

It was all he could fucking think about.

He stared at the photo of Hawks dragging a hooded woman by the hand out of his agency. He scrolled and stared at the second photo of him grinning down at the woman.

It was you all right.

There weren’t any other pictures of the two of you out in public and it irked him. It was like an itch that couldn’t be scratched as he wondered just how the two of you looked together in your relationship.

Did you have any pictures of the two of you in your phone?

That was when the sunlight was completely blocked, blanketing him in shadow.

He lowered his phone and his quirk nearly blew up the device.

Fucking Hawks.

His eyes followed the bird as he perched on a telephone pole near the rooftop.

”There a reason you’re lounging on a roof, hero?” Hawks asked with an amused smirk.

Bakugo only stared— was this real or had he actually lost his mind now?

He raised a brow at his silence, tilting his head, reminding Bakugo of an owl. “You didn’t get hit by a quirk or something did you?”

He suddenly had no idea what to say— he hadn’t actually planned anything out to begin with. He figured his mouth would take over like usual and he’d go from there.

”Wait, I know you,” he suddenly snapped his fingers, “You’re that hero Dynamight.”

”THAT’S GREAT EXPLOSION MURDER GOD DYNAMIGHT TO YOU.”

Hawks blinked at the outburst before he barked out a laugh.

”WHAT ARE YOU LAUGHING AT BIRD BRAIN!?” He shouted, stomping his way over to the edge of the roof.

”Nothing, nothing,” he laughed, waving his hand, “That’s a great name.”

”ARE YOU MAKING FUN OF ME!” He screamed again, throwing his hand up and blasting off an explosion straight at Hawks.

Hawks’s eyes widened as he quickly darted upwards, missing the attack. “Y’know I’m pretty sure we’re supposed to be on the same side,” he called out, watching Bakugo as he seethed.

”Same side my ass,” he growled under his breath, “Is my girlfriend’s number still in your phone!?”

”Your girlfriend?” Hawks scoffed, “I don’t know who’s been lying to you but I can promise I don’t have your girlfriend’s number—“

”(Y/N) (L/N)!”

Hawks’s face fell, “You’re dating (Y/N)?”

”YES I AM, YOU STUPID BIRD.”

”Alright fine,” he shrugged, “I guess I do have your girlfriend’s number.”

Bakugo screamed as he hurled blast after blast at Hawks, to which he swiftly dodged each and every one.

He stopped, panting as he searched the sky for him as the smoke cleared, only to find the man standing in front of him.

”Is there a reason you’re trying to kill me? (N/N) moan my name while you two fucked or something?”

A fierce rage boiled in him at the nickname, “DON’T CALL HER THAT!” 

He began shooting more and more explosions at him.

Hawks tsked.

What a bother— were you really dating this guy?

He sent his feathers straight at Bakugo, each one catching onto any piece of fabric it could without slicing him and another set of feathers sliding off his gauntlets.

He had Bakugo pinned against the rooftop, palms against the concrete.

Hawks walked through the smoke, staring down at the struggling, screaming man with an unamused expression.

He kneeled down. “You’re aware we broke up like two years ago.” He said flatly, this was so ridiculous, he could barely remember what happened the last time he talked to you.

”19 months and three days,” he spat.

“Whoa,” his eyes widened before a grin tugged on his lips, “You have issues huh?” He only laughed as Bakugo continued to scream at him. “You also know she’s the one that broke up with me, right?”

”Of course she did! Because you’re a fucking dumbass who can’t fuck!”

“Can’t fuck? She tell you that? Because I remember her telling me something very different.”

Bakugo saw red, now thinking about you moaning about Hawks’s dick the same way you moaned about his.

He sighed, standing up and crossing his arms over his chest. “Y’know… it’s been quite a while since I’ve seen her. And I suppose I should cut your rampage short. Let’s go on a little trip.”

* * * *

You hummed, dancing around your kitchen while you cooked. Bakugo was late, but that was fine, he probably got held up with hero work.

You knew he’d probably yell at you for cooking dinner without him again but you were sticking to a chicken dish that you had perfected so he could complain all he wanted while eating his deliciously seasoned chicken.

There was a knock at your door.

”One second!” You called out, quickly washing your hands. It was probably the landlord again.

You turned your music off, humming as you skipped over to the door and opened it.

Your smile immediately fell.

Keigo fucking Takami leaned against the wall across your door with your boyfriend, who was currently wrapped up in a bandage capture weapon from his ankles to his mouth, being floated by Keigo’s feathers.

”It’s come to my attention that you’ve lost something,” He coolly stated with one of those grins you used to see on almost a daily basis.

Bakugo was screaming into the bandage around his mouth, not a single word coming out coherently.

Your head fell as you pinched the bridge of your nose, “For the love of God please tell me I’m being pranked.” You groaned.

”Not today sweetheart.”

More screaming ensued. “Alright,” you huffed, “Come in I guess.” You moved to the side, Bakugo being floated into the room first with Hawks following behind, and his two gauntlets floating in afterwards.

Hawks looked around the familiar space, “You redecorated,” he stated calmly, before noticing your neck, “And that looks painful,” he pointed to the ridiculous hickey your boyfriend left on you the night before. He went over to the couch and placed Bakugo down, his feathers finally rejoining his wings.

He immediately rolled off, hitting the ground with a thud as he struggled.

Hawks quirked an eyebrow at him before looking back to you, “Dynamight huh? Little hero magnet aren’t ya?”

You shrugged, “Seems so— this one keeps my hands a bit more full though.”

”Just wait till he finds out about the other hero you dated.”

Bakugo struggled more, smacking his head against the coffee table.

”He’s fucking with you Kat!” You called out, walking over to him, now standing above your restrained boyfriend, “There was no other hero— do you have to rile him up even more?” You snapped at Keigo.

He only shrugged, “He tried killing me so I think that’s fair.”

You groaned, “I’m really sorry about that. I’m gonna talk to him tonight.”

He hummed, “Nothing I couldn’t handle. You look good by the way, it’s nice seeing you doing well after all this time.”

”Yeah, you too,” you grinned, “Hero work going well? I see you on the news almost every day.”

”Better than ever.” He smiled, “I’ll let you attend to him though, I think he needs the attention.”

You rolled your eyes, “Thanks.” You said leading him to the door, “And thank you for bringing him here, I’m sorry again for any trouble he caused.”

”S’alright,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets, “I do have one question though,” he turned, facing you in the doorway, “Did you really tell him I can’t fuck—?”

“Good night Keigo,” you slammed the door in his face.

You walked back over to your boyfriend, watching him roll back and forth between the couch and coffee table as he struggled with the capture weapon.

”Oh Kat,” you sighed, “What am I gonna do with you?”

You sat on the couch, leaning down and yanking the bandage from his mouth.

He said nothing.

You raised a brow, “Really? You had a fuck ton to say when he was here,” you crossed your arms over your chest.

“You were flirting,” he grumbled.

”You tried to kill him? Really? You don’t realize how fucking psychotic that is?”

“… He called you sweetheart.”

”Okay,” you snapped, “This has got to stop Kat. Honestly it seems like you’re more into Keigo than me.”

”That’s absolute fucking bullshit, and you know it. I’m only obsessed with him because of you.”

”So you admit you’re obsessed?”

”What!? No!—I— shut up you fucking idiot!” He screamed, rolling on the floor again to try and break free.

”Okay, how are we gonna remedy this? What can I do to help you get over this? Therapy?”

He stopped, staring at the ceiling, ”… Lemme send him a picture of my dick in your pussy.”

”Absolutely out of the question.” You stated, utterly unamused.

”Sucking me off?”

“Nope.”

”Eating you out?”

”Try again.”

“Mirror pic of us in doggy?”

”Kat—… actually I can deal with that— but only if you agree to talk to a therapist. I love you Kat so I’m really gonna need you to drop this obsession with my ex or I’m gonna have a new one.”

”Fine!” He barked. “Doggy and a therapist.”

You nodded, “Doggy and a therapist— and did you pick up that plan B like you said you would?”

“…damn it.”

* * * * 

[New Message… Unknown number]

[1 Attachment]

Keigo Takami: ‘Thanks. I almost forgot what she looked like in that position’

[New Message… (Y/N)]

(Y/N): Idk what you said but I’m begging you to stop riling him up. There’s only so much screaming I can take in one night 

Keigo Takami: Good luck sweetheart, I’m sure you’re doing a lot more screaming than he is anyway ;)

(Y/N): Bastard

[tubbytarchia]

Etho doodles in which I let my inner dinosaur nerd take over 😔 and also have no idea how to shade

Get it cause he's old and washed up haha... ok but actual raptor Etho hybrid justification below cut

To be honest the main reason was because I really wanted a hybrid in the mix who wasn't some furry creature and a reptile or amphibian or smth instead. Etho still ended up feathered but whatever it's close enough! But for ACTUAL reasoning:

He does feel damn ancient, like an old deity of the mcyt space that no one can dislike. Dinosaurs are the same!! They're old but still thought of with great fascination and fondness, everyone loves dinosaurs...

Dinosaurs are ever so mysterious, as many advancements as we make there's still so much we don't know. Just as we know jackshit about mister Kakashi skin man. Also, there are so many incomplete skeletons out there. I didn't have a particular species in mind for Etho, because where's the mystery in that? He can be one of those 5% skeleton 95% speculation dinosaurs like this guy!! Missing jaw and all

"I'm a runner, not a protector" - so, a raptor, or more specifically the Dromaeosauridae family, which literally has "running/runner" in its name

But! I'm always a fan of stuff going against its nature, especially in this case! Etho states he's not a runner yet protects his allies rather fiercely even in total silence. Eg refusing to kill Cleo in SL or to give away Tango's location during the LimL manhunt, same for Grian in SL. He was a bit flaky in 3L I think? And he only started to have genuine care for allies in LL with Bdubs? Though he is still very much a runner in many cases like during the LL Wither fight. Research also strongly suggests that most if not all raptors were solitary hunters, and the way I see Etho (through my shamefully limited watchtime of his POVs...) he feels a lot like someone who ultimately only trusts himself at the start even if he's pleasant and allying with others, and doesn't seem to think he can carry his weight in groups though he doesn't voice this a lot. That's just how Etho is, very composed, but it feels like there's an insecurity there, showcased especially in SL but again I haven't seen almost any of his POVs in full so maybe I'm talking out of my ass!! Sorry ethogirls I'm only a sidegig ethogirl myself... But yeah tldr to me he gives off the vibe of an otherwise solitary animal struggling to find 100% sure footing in a pack. In whichever ways he does go against his nature, its not usually made a show of

At the mention of a raptor, a lot of people will probably think of the glamourized Jurassic Park Velociraptors. But those awesome guys from the movies are actually the size of chickens. In general though, dinosaurs tend to be a bit.. exaggerated in media, despite how inherently fascinating they already are. And I think it fits Etho because we all know how the Lifers seem to fear and mancrush on him when he's just some dork with perfect capability to become pathetic at a moment's notice. Still, he's a clearly skilled player and still respected without question Etho's not some killer machine like some people make dinosaurs out to be. He's just a fellow creature fulfilling his role in the ecosystem 👍

dinosaurs are cool

The hook-like sickle claws on the feet... something something fishing rod

I swear I'm not turning all my Lifers into hybrids I'm not!! Still plenty normal humans in the mix I swear....... But Etho is such a radical dude, I really wanted to do something more for him. The whole Kitsune thing that I often see associated with him is really cool. I don't actually know the reasoning for it but I assume something something naruto, but also, him being this ancient mythical cryptid who people know so little about, you know? It makes SO much sense. So anyway I turned him into a dinosaur instead rawr

As a herbivore advocate I also considered stuff like the triceratops (known for how they protect themselves and their own) but nah the raptor symbolism...

[andypantsx3]

𝑤𝘩𝑒𝑛 𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒 : 𝑡𝑜𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑜𝑘𝑖 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑜 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 : 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑖𝑖𝑖

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: In order to placate your anxious mother, you agree to return to your hometown to participate in a mating run—knowing full well that betas rarely get chased, never mind betas nearly old enough to age out of the practice. You’ve decided to treat it like a vacation, a chance to visit with your childhood friends, the mating run itself a nice relaxing hike. All in all it’s a solid plan—until alpha Todoroki Shouto, your best friend's little brother,steps in and blows it all to pieces. 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡: omegaverse, no quirks au, alpha!shouto, beta!reader, mating rituals, age gap, best friend’s little brother, older reader, afab reader, some class differences, aged up characters, semi-public sex, slight small town romance vibes, background implied dabihawks for some reason, smut, 18+; mdni! 𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑡ℎ: 5.7k | chapter 3 of 4

Then

“I want to climb trees, this is so boring,” Touya complained, face down on the sofa.

You flung a piece of plastic pizza at him, laughing when it bounced off his back. Touya turned to give you the evil eye, daggers in his gaze.

“Keigo and Rumi will be here soon, can you just wait?” you asked.

On your other side, Shouto made an unhappy grunt, leaning out from behind you to give Touya a narrow-eyed little gaze. “Y/N is busy. Do not interrupt,” he said primly.

Touya grunted. “Y/N isn’t yours, you little shit. Y/N is my friend.”

Shouto puffed up next to you, little hand gripping your shirt. “Y/N is mine, Touya.” His mismatched gaze was intense where it fixed on his older brother, like he was trying to set him on fire with his eyeballs.

You shifted in between them with years of long practice, blocking their line of sight. Brothers.

“I really want to play house, if only someone would stop arguing and play with me,” you said, making sure to sound extra pathetic. That always got Shouto.

As expected, he immediately abandoned Touya, patting you as if to reassure you. “Of course I will play with you, Y/N,” he pronounced solemnly, like he was declaring some oath of office.

You snorted, turning back to Shouto’s kitchen playset with him. It had been Touya’s first, several years ago when you first visited the Todoroki house. Back then he still deigned to play with it, bossing you around like the alpha of the house, though you didn’t quite think he was going to grow up as one. Then you’d gotten too old for it, preferring video games or board games or ranging around the neighborhood, up to little good.

Today was a rare day that Keigo was permitted to come out and run around the neighborhood with you, but you had to wait for him to get here first with Rumi. And so you’d allowed Shouto to drag you over to the kitchen set while you waited, he its final owner.

“What shall I make you, Mr. Todoroki?” you asked Shouto, shifting the little plastic frying pan around on the wooden stove top. “I make a mean sliced banana. Or a sandwich, or chicken.”

Shouto moved to sit next to you, peering at his options. “I want to make it with you.”

You smiled. “You don’t want me to cook it for you?”

Shouto shook that mop of scarlet and white hair. “I want to do it together.”

You laughed. “Alright, then how about you cut up the veggies for our sides and our sandwich, and I’ll cook the chicken.”

Shouto laid out a myriad of plastic vegetables on the counter, levering his plastic knife through the velcro in their center with great concentration. You tried not to reach out and pinch his cheek for how cute he was. You didn’t understand how Touya got so annoyed with all his younger siblings when they were this sweet.

You got to work frying your plastic pile of chicken, laying it out on fake plates across the carpet when you were done. Shouto carefully placed the sliced vegetables next to it, and then the two of you bent over the pieces of a sandwich, layering in the plastic onion, tomato, lettuce, and bread.

“Shall we make you up a plate, Touya?” you asked. Touya just flashed you a rude gesture from the couch.

“This is only for you,” Shouto insisted, pushing your plate at you. You grinned down at him, passing over the fake cutlery.

“Well thank you, chef Shouto. I am honored to be worthy enough of your cooking,” you said.

Shouto’s little cheeks flushed, as if embarrassed. He pretended to take a bite out of his sandwich, and then a swig out of his fake bottle of milk.

“So, how was work?” he asked, out of nowhere.

You blinked at him, then startled into another laugh. Oh, so he wanted to play real house, like you were married. So funny.

You pretended to take a thoughtful bite of your own meal. “Very busy and tiring,” you said. “I couldn’t wait to come home.”

Shouto scooted a little bit closer to you, pushing some of his fake veggies at you, their velcro innards rolling. “You need to eat a lot to keep your energy,” he pronounced. “Until I can make enough money that you do not have to work so hard.”

You grinned. So he thought he was going to be the breadwinner, huh? Not super traditional for an omega, but times were changing. You couldn’t imagine an alpha who wouldn’t want to provide for sweet little Shouto, though, so that was something he and his life mate were going to have to negotiate.

“We’re already rich, idiot,” Touya said from the couch. “Mom said we all have an inheritance.”

Shouto’s eyebrow twitched, like he was annoyed Touya was intruding on this private domestic discussion.

“Then you can have my inheritance,” he insisted to you, though you knew he had absolutely no idea what that meant.

You pretended to think on this.

“What if I use some of it to open my bookstore, and then pay you back the profits?” you asked.

Touya thought your dream of a bookstore was stupid, so you anticipated his annoyed grunt from the couch. But you still liked the idea of it. Ever since you were little, you’d wanted to own one of the brick-faced shops right along the waterfront, somewhere you could walk to from your house. You’d pile it high with thousands of books and plants and string-lights and have all your friends come over after hours to hang out.

You didn’t want to leave your hometown like so many people did. You wanted to make a home right here on the coast, where you could watch over your mom and hang out with Shouto and Touya and Keigo and Rumi.

Though these days you’d become aware that starting a business required upfront money first. Hopefully you would figure out how to get some by the time you graduated highschool. But the Todoroki inheritance would work nicely for your fantasy bookstore.

“You do not have to pay me back the profits,” Shouto insisted. “If we are married.”

You laughed. “Right, right. Then they’re our profits.”

“This is sickening,” Touya said, his voice muffled into a pillow.

You wiggled your eyebrows at Shouto, considering saying something that would bait Touya, but then the doorbell rang. Touya shot up off the couch, rushing over to let in his saviors.

“Looks like Keigo and Rumi are here,” you told Shouto. “Thank you for a delicious dinner.”

Some tiny flicker crossed Shouto’s serious little face, something like annoyance, which you so rarely saw on him. “I want to make it together again.”

You nodded, patting his fluff of multicolored hair. “Yeah, we’ll do it again. Next time we’ll even do dessert, okay?”

Shouto looked momentarily appeased. “And you’ll eat it all. So you have energy.”

You laughed, yanking on one of the strands of his hair fondly. “Absolutely. You take such good care of me, Shouto.”

A pleased little smile turned the corner of his mouth. He placed a hand on your knee as you heard Keigo and Rumi spill into the house, the rustle of Rumi and Touya immediately tussling.

“I will take good care of you always,” Shouto said seriously. “You have my word.”

“I trust it,” you said. And you knew he meant it.

Todoroki Shouto was such a sweet boy, and he was going to make someone a very good not-pretend husband one day. You waved to him as Rumi looped a nut-brown arm over your neck, pulling you outside.

These days, you’d been aware that life was not going to be as stable as you’d always assumed it would be as you grew up. But you hoped you’d still be around to see Shouto grow up too, married and happy like that with his own real life partner some day.

You wondered where you would be when that finally happened.

Now

The next few days proved a test of your resolution to be normal about Shouto.

Everywhere you went, it seemed like Shouto was there—or maybe you were the problem, finding yourself drawn to wherever he was.

You took meals at the Todoroki house a couple more times, eating them out of house and home like you had as a teen—Shouto always stopping by too to eat something on his way on or off a shift. Twice your morning runs had taken you by the fire station, only to see a pair of mismatched eyes tracking you curiously from the engine bay, burning hot on your back as you quickly scurried away, feeling insane.

Shouto joined Touya when he met you and Rumi and Keigo for drinks one evening, Touya looking just as chagrined to have his baby brother tagging along as he had when you were kids.

“Shouto-duty,” he’d growled, the same as when you were little and he was charged with Shouto’s care. Shouto’s face had gone carefully blank, the paragon of innocence, and you’d laughed as he angled himself into the booth across from you.

Of course you’d quickly shut up when he’d pressed his calf up against yours, his long legs unfurling under the table. You’d quickly jerked your leg aside to make space for him, but he stretched out further, an ankle pressing to yours. He didn’t seem to mind, although it made your face warm for some reason.

Shouto had been good company, and had patiently endured Rumi’s hair ruffling and Keigo’s incessant teasing. He’d even walked you home at the end of the evening, like a protective alpha, even though you were not an omega and could damn well take care of yourself. And he’d lingered as you’d unlocked the door, smiling his tiny, careful little smile, and looking almost like he was waiting for something.

You’d bitten out a strangled good night and quickly barricaded yourself inside the house, lest you do something stupid.

That had the unfortunate effect of making you feel even more like a girl returning home from a date, however, and your mother had been almost beside herself with glee when she’d caught a hint of Shouto’s scent as you’d jerked the door closed behind you.

“An alpha?” she’d prompted again, abandoning her soap opera to lean over the couch arm eagerly.

“It’s just Shouto,” you’d explained hastily, waving your arms, a little loose with the drinks you’d had. “It’s not anything.”

Your mother’s eyebrows had gone up. “I thought he was your child bride.”

You hissed, shushing her, casting a stricken glance at the open window. You hoped Shouto had turned around immediately and gotten out of hearing range or you were going to have to kill your own mother.

“He is like my orderly, helping me off the shuttle back into the retirement home,” you said, turning and emphatically shedding your jacket and shoes, effectively ending the conversation.

But that hadn’t been the end of it. You’d seen Shouto a million times more since then, culminating in a final sighting the night before the run.

You’d ducked out to the grocery, intent on gathering up a day’s worth of supplies for the run. For most people it was over within a few hours—omegas had a thirty minute head start but usually went no further than a mile out, the ritual no longer the strict test of a mate it might have been back before things like showers and wifi and nine-to-fives were invented. But you always went to the coast, a hike of at least an hour or two, and you needed to stay up your tree for at least a few more while the more daring omegas who’d come out around you were summarily hunted down and properly bedded.

With the hike back accounted for, it usually took up most of the day, and you’d long learned your time was best spent with a book, a few bottles of water, and several snacks on hand.

You recognized Shouto’s distinctive mop of hair and broad shoulders as soon as you turned onto the produce aisle. He’d seemed somehow to sense you already—though betas were notoriously harder to scent than omegas—mismatched eyes already pinned to you as you rounded the corner.

You startled, your basket jerking in your grip.

“Hi Shouto,” you said, sidling up to him.

Shouto watched you approach, a tiny smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Y/N,” he intoned, peering curiously into your basket. A long-fingered, elegant hand reached out to touch the snacks you’d gathered there, everything but the apple you’d been targeting when you’d turned into this aisle.

“For the run?” Shouto guessed, eyes darting back up to catch yours.

You could feel your face flushing in acknowledgement of the ridiculousness of your participation. “Yes,” you said, dredging up a grin. You were happy to see him. “With any luck, and a heaping dollop of guilt, hopefully my last ever. I’m going all out.”

Something flickered behind Shouto’s eyes, a sort of glint you’d never seen before. For some reason the hair on the back of your neck raised. Maybe an alpha thing.

“With any luck,” he repeated, his voice rich, strangely deep.

You wiggled your basket of snacks at him. “What about you? Making preparations for the big day?”

Shouto’s eyes followed the basket as you dropped it back down to your side. “Yes. I was hoping to make something, for after.”

Your eyebrows shot up, a wave of helpless affection for him rising in you. “For your life mate? To take them home to?”

Shouto nodded, his scarlet and white strands falling into his eyes. He was so, so good.

You couldn’t help but reach out and pinch him, right on his rib cage. “You are too pure to be related to your family.”

Shouto blinked, eyelashes fluttering. His gaze was a little darker where it caught yours again. “I would not be so sure.”

You took a step back, slightly startled by this assertion. Another flush heated your cheeks, and you pinched him again for good measure. “Respect your elders’ opinions, brat.”

Shouto’s gaze softened, and he stepped closer, catching your fingers in his before you could do too much damage. Your heart hammered to a stop in your chest, your hand suddenly burning beneath his.

“Let me make you something,” he said, his tone dipping low again.

A surprised breath escaped you. “Like lunch? For tomorrow?”

Shouto watched you for a long moment before answering. “That, as well.”

“Oh, then you meant like, for dinner tonight?” You frowned, wracking your brain for his meaning, and coming up short.

That wry little smile played about Shouto’s mouth again. “Yes, dinner tonight, too.”

You squinted at him, unclear what he was trying to do here. “Touya says you’re a shit cook and that’s why you come eat all Rei’s cooking.”

Shouto’s face went pointedly blank. “I am passable.”

“I’ve heard conflicting reports.”

“Then perhaps you can help me.” Shouto’s fingers curled around yours more tightly. “I will purchase, and you direct the operation.”

Your mind suddenly flickered back, catching the wisp of an afternoon years ago, bent over Shouto’s fake plastic cookware, a tiny, round-faced Shouto insisting he’d provide for you. Cooking together, you directing Shouto to cut the plastic veggies along their velcro strips while you diligently fried your plastic chicken. Your heart swelled.

“In the interest of you not food poisoning your life mate your first night together, I’m willing to show you a thing or two,” you said, peering up at him, feeling slightly giddy.

Shouto’s mouth quirked. “I will watch carefully.”

You grinned. “Alright. What are we thinking for meals then?”

It turned out Shouto already had a plan in mind—fried chicken karaage, with marinated vegetable sides, and for lunch some jam-packed wanpaku sandwiches to keep your energy up out in the preserve tomorrow. He made a second pass through the snack aisle, seeming to pull in doubles or triples of everything you’d collected in your basket so far. Then he even snuck in two pieces of chocolate cake in the bakery section, crowned with little dollops of fresh whipped cream.

Shouto dumped your entire basket into his as well, holding you off with a strong arm when you made a grab for it, and ignored your protests all the way through checkout.

“Shouto, that’s my lunch, I should pay,” you insisted, getting a little hot in the face again when he was easily able to fend you off with one arm despite your genuine efforts. God, that was—you needed to not think about that.

“I once promised to take good care of you,” Shouto said, leading the way out of the store. You followed, realizing you had no idea where he lived now.

“You were a baby. You also promised me your entire inheritance,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Plus starting tomorrow you are going to have a life mate to provide for.”

Shouto turned to look down at you, eyes dragging down your face. “I will.”

“Okay then we’re agreed,” you said, digging around in your bag for his change. Shouto’s stride lengthened, however, like he was trying to dodge you. You hurried after him, swearing like Touya, and found yourself all but chasing him towards the waterfront, suddenly freezing when Shouto turned onto one of the shop-lined streets, stopping just before a familiar little brick building.

“Shouto—you live above this?” you asked, creeping forward to look in through the window.

The shop stood empty, as it had the day you’d graduated high school, but you could see it was well-maintained, new flooring installed in a warm light wood and windows shined to crystal clarity. “I used to be obsessed with this place, this is where I thought my bookshop was going to be!” you said, unsure if you were talking to Shouto or yourself.

The soft clink of Shouto’s key paused in the door. “I know,” he said. “I remember you telling me.”

You turned back to him, smiling. “That was a million years ago and you were like, barely out of the womb.”

Shouto’s eyes pinned you with an alarming intensity, grey and blue points burning through you. “I remember everything you have ever told me.”

Your breath wooshed out of you, leaving you startlingly vulnerable. You desperately scrambled for verbal cover. “I—you are so full of it. You weren’t even speaking words yet when I met you.”

Shouto’s mouth quirked again, and he gestured you inside. You followed behind him, trying not to admire the way his broad shoulders filled up the breadth of the stairwell, the way his thighs bunched in his jeans as he took the stairs.

No. That way lay danger.

Shouto’s apartment had the same lovely blonde wood across the floors as the shop downstairs, and a huge bay window overlooking the coast where you imagined you could see the sun come up over the water in the mornings. The rest of the apartment was modern in style, though strangely minimalist, as though Shouto hadn’t filled it with very many of his own things.

“My life mate will need room,” he explained, unloading the groceries on the counter.

Your heart twisted at that, and you purposefully set about drinking in your fill of Shouto’s space before someone else filled it in for him. You admired the large, cushiony couch, chosen as if Shouto had imagined a thousand nights cuddled up on it with someone else, what appeared to be a super old but working fireplace, and the neatly arranged rows of hanging copper pots, which you could tell almost never got used.

It smelled like him, his alpha scent everywhere, like sweet campfire smoke on a cold breeze. It made you want to curl up in here and never leave.

“It’s amazing, Shouto. Your mate is going to just die over this,” you said, totally charmed.

You tried hard to ignore the little tinge of jealousy souring your gut.

Shouto’s gaze flashed up to yours, his long fingers arranging the groceries neatly on his countertops. “I would prefer if no one died,” he said solemnly.

You laughed. “You know what I mean.”

“I had hoped you would like it,” Shouto said, something pleased in his deep tone.

“I love it. You’ll have to invite me back over next time I’m in town,” you said.

Shouto’s fingers hesitated over a tomato, and a small, shy sort of smile pulled at his mouth as he peered down at it. “Perhaps even sooner.”

You blinked, mystified. You weren’t going to have time before you left for the city again, not with the run tomorrow, and definitely not if Shouto spent the traditional several days curled up here with his life mate afterwards.

“Yeah sometime,” you said vaguely, trying not to think too hard on it.

You had sort of enjoyed being Shouto’s favorite when you were kids, your time and attention prioritized even above Touya’s. But Shouto was all grown up now and it was time for him to have a new favorite—you probably hadn’t been his since you’d graduated and disappeared into the city to generate parental support money. It had been years.

“Anyway let’s get this stuff prepped, sous-chef Shouto,” you said, coming around the counter to his side. “I’m thinking the old plan of attack—you slice the veggies, I’ll fry the chicken?”

Shouto’s mouth pulled in a wider smile than you’d seen in a long time, a heart-stoppingly handsome flash of white. You gripped the counter carefully.

“I’d like that,” he said.

He set himself up with a knife and a cutting board, and set you up with a few small bowls for breading, flour, and egg. You noticed he sliced his vegetables a little more dexterously than the velcro veggies of years past—though certainly not expertly. The two of you worked in easy tandem as you whisked the egg, then laid all your chicken pieces out as you waited for the pot on the stove to warm.

The peace was only broken when Shouto suddenly leaned over you, bringing with him a puff of that delicious campfire scent. Your breath reflexively seized in your lungs as you froze, hyperaware of him as his hand went to the side of your hip. He gently pulled you out of range of one of his drawers, moving you like you were an expected piece of his kitchen—like his life mate he was long-used to dancing around, pressing close enough that you could feel the heat of him.

Something like electricity spiked across all of your nerve endings. You tried not to shiver with the feeling of Shouto’s soft exhale over your shoulder, the heavy weight of his hand on your hip as he slid open one of his drawers.

It took you a few moments to recover enough that you realized he’d been pulling out plastic wrap. He hadn’t been curled over your back just for the intimacy of it—god, you were such a fucking creep.

You peeled yourself out of Shouto’s hands and beat a hasty retreat to his fridge, scrounging around for the ingredients you’d need to make the vegetable seasonings. The warm kabocha and fried chicken were going to make perfect leftovers for Shouto and his mate to scarf down after a windy run along the coast tomorrow.

Maybe you’d try to make something similar when you made it back to your mom’s tomorrow. Although, come to think of it, you didn’t really want to be reminded of Shouto stuffed up back here with someone else.

A frown pulled at your mouth, and you pinched your thigh, gathering yourself back together. What Shouto did with his own life mate was none of your business. You needed to remember that.

When Shouto finished cutting up the vegetables you helped him arrange everything into two enormous sandwiches, then covered in plastic wrap and stowed in his fridge to set. He watched you carefully as you fried the chicken, hovering closely behind you like a tall, handsome shadow. You fought against some strange impulse to lean back against his chest, watching the chicken burble in the oil with an intense focus. Shouto didn’t seem to mind the sudden quiet, smiling a small half-smile when you turned back to him.

When it seemed ready, you fished the chicken out, setting it on paper towels to absorb the excess. Shouto followed you, taking hold of your face as you turned back to him.

You froze for the second time, pulse racing, as his fingers came up to brush along your cheek, just under your eye. The touch was gentle but firm, and his gaze swept over you assessingly. He seemed to linger for a long moment—until he came away with flour across his thumb.

A weird sense of disappointment twisted your gut as Shouto looked it over. How embarrassing.

“Oh, thanks,” you managed to say, swiping at your face yourself.

Shouto’s mouth quirked softly. “As I said, I did once promise to take care of you.”

Your face went warmer, and you deliberately did not think about how much you liked that. The only person taking care of you was you, and it was going to have to be that way for the foreseeable future. Flour was only flour.

“Again, you were a baby. You needed taking care of more than me,” you accused.

Shouto shifted closer, an intent look settling over his features. “I am not a child any longer.”

That much was upsettingly clear these days. But that was beside the point.

“Neither of us are,” you agreed. “And I assure you, other than the occasional flour mishap, I am excellent at taking care of myself now. You on the other hand, with all these unused pots…”

Shouto’s eyes lingered on your face. To your horror he absently brought his thumb to his mouth, tongue barely flicking out to lick the flour—and that ended the discussion immediately.

Your face immediately flamed, overcome with shit you absolutely should not be thinking, and you shooed him away to fetch plates. Shouto let himself be shooed, looking contemplative.

When he returned with plates, you busied yourself serving up two large portions of rice, followed by crispy golden fried chicken, cucumber salad, and soft, steaming kabocha. It all looked excellent, if you did say so yourself, practically Michelin-starred compared to the plastic meal you’d made together all those years ago.

Shouto led you over to the coffee table and you both took positions on the floor, your back against his couch.

“This reminds me so much of when we were little,” you said, grinning. “Except the couch is mercifully devoid of any complaining.”

The indent at the side of Shouto’s mouth deepened. “I prefer the lack of Touya as well.”

You laughed, biting into your chicken, pleased when it tasted as good as it looked. Hopefully Shouto’s life mate was going to love it. Shouto looked like he liked it too, his long eyelashes fluttering over the tops of his cheekbones as he chewed. Your stomach flipped.

“So how was work?” you asked Shouto, flipping the script on him from when he was younger.

An electric blue eye cut sideways towards you, like he remembered too.

“Very busy and tiring,” he repeated, almost an exact parroting of your words, if you remembered correctly. “I could not wait to come home.”

“You really do remember a lot,” you said, impressed.

Shouto took a mouthful of squash, chewing neatly. Was it normal to look that pretty when eating?

“As I said,” he said, something slightly smug in his voice.

You rolled your eyes—Todorokis—and took your own mouthful of food, chewing thoughtfully.

“You’re so similar and yet so different,” you informed him when you’d finished. “I’m sad I missed you graduating school, and the academy. You’ve really grown up into an amazing person, Sho.”

Shouto’s chopsticks wavered over his plate, and a pink flush stained his cheeks.

“I had always wanted you to think so, when we were younger,” he said slowly, eyes fixed on his plate.

You smiled. “You were so cute. I was always going to think so. Even when I thought you were going to grow up an omega and had no idea what career you might have wanted. You were just good, I think.”

The tip of Shouto’s ear went red, almost matching the left side of his hair.

You couldn’t help but continue, warmed by how much the praise clearly meant to him. “Touya was my best friend but I liked spending the time with you, even though you were that much younger. I am sorry I haven’t been able to stick around and spend more of it with you.”

Shouto took a deliberate bite of rice, like he was calming himself.

“Your job in the city,” he said, when he finished. “Do you like it?”

You shook your head, snorting. “It’s fine. If I had a say I’d be running that storefront just below us, but my job is at least guaranteed money for mom. I don’t mind, though I do regret not coming back here enough.”

Shouto seemed to take a moment to think on this. “But you would quit it, if you could,” he said.

You nodded. “Yeah, I think so. But like I said, it’s not so bad. And it’s pretty good money for a single income if I do say so myself.”

Shouto turned to watch you. “It would be easier if you had your life mate,” he said.

You paused, considering the weight of this statement. “Well yeah. But as you know, not everyone finds theirs. And as a beta I’m sort of stuck waiting for my life mate to find me—I’ve sometimes wondered if any of those alphas I hid up a tree from were actually it, all those years ago. But something tells me no. So I’m doing my own thing in the meantime.”

“Do you hope to find your life mate, this time?” Shouto asked, pinning you with an intense look. He’d abandoned his food it seemed, watching you with singular focus. It was slightly unnerving.

You wondered how best to answer without making him pity you.

“I’ve always hoped, but I’ve never counted on it,” you said. “But one thing is for certain—I wouldn’t accept just anyone. I’m not going to end up like my parents did.”

Shouto’s fingers shifted on the table top, and he seemed to be holding them out to you. You carefully placed your hand in his, gratified when his hand closed over yours, thumb smoothing your skin.

“You are not,” Shouto said, sounding sure. “You will have a life mate who has cared for you and will care for you his whole life.”

He sounded like he meant it. He was so sweet all these years later.

You flushed, embarrassed by his declaration. “Okay. I’ll—trust you on that.”

Shouto looked satisfied, letting your hand go so you could return to your food. You both scarfed down the rest of your meals, like the two of you were storing up enough energy for tomorrow, and then Shouto pressed a slice of chocolate cake on you, too, insistent.

He watched you eat it with the supervisory focus of a mother—or an alpha with his omega, a thought that you immediately put back out of mind.

You let him feed you too much, happy for the extra time in his company, laughing and chatting and reliving shared memories. You insisted on helping him with the dishes, too, washing everything as he packed up the leftovers, and then sorted out your prepared sandwich and the snacks he’d purchased for you. He didn’t let you out of his sight even as he did so, moving in front of you to block your access to your bag when you remembered you owed him money.

Shouto kept hold of it on the way to the door, too, so you couldn’t dig out cash and fling it before running out—he really did know too much about you after all these years.

Once he surrendered your bag to you, he leaned forward, fingers finding the side of your face again, cupping it and turning it up to his.

You went perfectly, embarrassingly still in his hold, breath coming short. His thumb smoothed across your cheek, and a private little smile pulled at his mouth.

“I will see you tomorrow,” he promised, his tone rich and dark, like the chocolate cake you’d just had.

You barely resisted a shiver, having to manually kickstart your lungs again, breathing in and out deliberately.

“Only if your life mate goes so far,” you said. “I hope for your sake they keep things easy.”

Shouto’s smile widened a bit. “They will not.”

You tried not to be too irritated at whoever it was. Only an idiot would make it so hard for an alpha like Todoroki Shouto.

“Well then, good luck,” you told him. “I’ll be on the lookout for you from my tree. And I’ll have snacks if you need them.” You rattled your bag.

Shouto’s eyes roved over your face, something warm in his gaze. “You will see me,” he said. “Though I do not plan to need any luck.”

Okay that was—he was not allowed to be that confident. That damn omega had no idea how lucky they were.

It took everything you had to wrench yourself away from him, only the knowledge that he was meant for someone else carrying you away. You made yourself salute him, smiling. Then you bid him good night, promising to text him when you got in, and scurried off to your mother’s house, trying to put yourself on the right track again.

You scolded yourself as you readied for bed, dropping a kiss on your mother’s head as you passed her asleep on the couch. You would not be a weenie about this. You were, at least, glad that Shouto was going to find his happiness tomorrow.

Even if you envied them even more tonight after seeing the life Shouto had built for them to share. Even if you wished, despite all odds, that you could find a life mate to share yours, too.

[deunmiu-dessie]

ⅱ ▬ ⁽ 𝑔𝒽𝑜𝓈𝓉 ⁾

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ♡︎ : ₃˖₈ₖ ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ♡︎ : mdni----- unedited, NSFW, dubcon, rape/noncon elements, explicit content, spectrophilia, ghost/human, rough sex, "unprotected" sex, creampie, somnophilia, cunnilingus. ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ♡︎: after coming home from a grueling day of work, instead of being able to relax, the feeling of someone watching you has you scared. ꒰m!ghost ₊⊹ afab!reader꒱

CLICK

𝒯 he soft glow of your lamp casts a warm yellow light throughout the desolate home, but it fails to dispel the darkness that lingers. You make a mental note, weariness seeping into your thoughts, to buy a new lightbulb from the mart later in the week. The dimness of the room matches the heaviness in your heart, as you feel the weight of loneliness settle upon your shoulders, part of you knows you should be used to coming home with no one to greet you, but it still stings nonetheless.

Struggling to remove your gym shoes, you let out an annoyed groan, exhaustion causing you to stumble and collide into the wall with a thump. Finally freeing your feet, you stretch your arms above your head and let out a tired sigh. Your muscles ache from the long day at work, and the fatigue seems to seep into your bones. Your eyes flutter closed from the effects of sleep deprivation but your stomach grumbles with a ravenous craving for a thick pastrami sandwich. The thought of sinking your teeth into the juicy meat and tangy mustard momentarily distracts you from the weariness that engulfs you.

Discarding your wool coat onto the carpeted floor, you shuffle yourself wearily down the hallway towards the kitchen, fully expecting it to still be a mess from three days ago. The cluttered countertops and unwashed dishes serve as a constant reminder of your chaotic schedule and the lack of time you have for yourself. It’s as if the mess mirrors the disarray in your own life, and you can’t help but feel overwhelmed by it all. At times you missed living with your parents and not having any responsibilities. Being an adult was so stress-inducing you just wanted to lay in bed and cry sometimes.

Leaning against the hallway wall, you find solace in pressing your forehead against the cool, flowered wallpaper. Sleep weighs heavily on your eyelids, momentarily clouding your vision and tempting you to succumb to its embrace. And just as your legs threaten to give way, a gentle chill dances down your spine, jolting you awake with a surge of electricity. A tired sigh escapes your lips as you run your palm down your face, mustering the strength to continue towards the kitchen. The chaotic mess that greets you almost makes you cry.

Resting against the entryway to the kitchen, a pang of regret washes over you. Deep down, and not even buried that far truly, you wish you hadn’t taken your coworker’s shift. Despite your fondness for the woman, working two consecutive twelve-hour shifts was more than you could handle. And as the new nurse in the hospital, you were an easy target for those who wanted to shirk their responsibilities, they left you to run around like a headlesss chicken.

You finally gather the energy to carry yourself into the kitchen, reaching for a cup from the cupboard and turning on the sink faucet, allowing lukewarm water to fill it. Impatiently you can’t wait for the tap to run cold and quickly knock back the glass, the satisfaction of quenching your thirst outweighs the temperature. Slouching against the sink, you take a moment to stretch, feeling your joints crack and your muscles slacken. You flutter your eyes shut to stop yourself from gazing at the mess that’s your kitchen.

Placing the glass on the worn countertop, you set your medical bag on the kitchen island and head towards the staircase, overwhelmed by the longing for a shower and some rest. However, as you approach the hallway, a sudden shiver runs down your spine, causing goosebumps to rise on your arms. Your legs momentarily go numb, and you manage to grab hold of the stair railing, preventing yourself from stumbling. After being on your feet for a whole day, you were shocked you had not immediately collapsed when you walked in the door.

A sudden sense of unease washes over you when you survey your modest home, the horrid sensation of being observed seeping into your skin and festering in your mind. It’s as if the feeling surrounds you, leaving you breathless and on edge. Your eyes dart between the dimly lit kitchen and the shadowy staircase, it’s as if the shadows themselves are in motion. Objects seem out of place, and didn’t you leave your bag on the island?

Confusion creases your brow as you search for your bag, it takes a while but you discover it leaning against the couch’s armrest in the living room. Your unease deepens, causing a slight twitch in your eye. The entire situation leaves you unsettled. Anxiously, you bite down on your lower lip, feeling the sting as your teeth sink into the flesh. Once more, the sensation of being watched intensifies, as though someone is observing your every move, listening to your every thought, and knowing your every action. Goosebumps raise on your skin, skittering down your back.

You shake your head in disbelief and pinch the bridge of your nose, the weight of exhaustion and hunger bearing down on you. ( the latter was something you would fix in the morning, as you did not have the energy to cook anything.) The darkness of the hallway only adds to your supposed delusion. With a heavy sigh, you push yourself away from the railing and begin the arduous climb up the stairs.

Stopping just shy of the top of the stairs, you reach your hand out and glide it along the cool walls beside you, feeling for the light switch— one may think that you would know where the light was in a house that you’ve lived in for two years, but you seemed to fail to find it every time. Your palm glides along the walls, desperately searching for the elusive light switch. It’s a futile attempt, as if the house itself is playing tricks on you. The anticipation builds as you inch closer to the top, your body tensing with each step.

Finally, the click of the switch echoes through the silence. But it’s not your doing. Panic sets in as you realize someone else must be in the house, but soon the hallway is bathed in harsh light, exposing every shadow and corner. Yet no one is there. You stare at your hand, questioning whether you had unknowingly flipped the switch.

Ignoring the fear that threatens to consume you, you force yourself to continue. Quickly, you make your way to your room, seeking solace behind the closed door. But even within the confines of your sanctuary, the feeling of being watched persists. It’s as if an unseen presence lingers, peering into the depths of your soul.

Your skin tingles in question as the ethereal sensation of fingers delicately cupping your cheek sends shivers down your spine (truly almost nonexistent). A surge of unease washes over you, even though you can’t see anything, you can sense an intense, ravenous gaze fixated on you. Shaking off the remnants of your episode, you take a hesitant step forward, determined to overcome any lingering apprehension. With a burst of courage, you scurry to your dresser and retrieve an oversized T-shirt, a memento stolen from your older brother years ago, along with a pair of plain black cotton panties.

No matter what strange occurrences were unfolding, you refuse to let them hinder your plans for a hot shower. The past twenty-four hours have left you covered in sweat and grime, and you are determined to cleanse yourself of it all.

With eager anticipation, you make your way to the bathroom, barely bothering to close the door behind you. Placing your clothes in the sink, you turn towards the shower, pushing the curtain aside to adjust the knobs and pull up the shower valve, spurring on the hot water. As the bathroom fills with steam, your breathing becomes slightly shallow, the heat causing your cheeks to flush.

Stepping back towards the sink, you gaze at the fogged-up mirror, your reflection blurred and distorted. Like a scene from a horror movie, you raise your hand and press it against the glass, wiping downwards and watching as the water droplets cascade lower, dripping on your discarded clothing below.

As your eyes meet your reflection once more, they immediately lose focus and fixate on the imposing figure standing just a few meters behind you. Towering over six feet tall, his muscular frame exudes a suffocating amount of dominance and power. A scream of terror and disbelief escapes your lips, and in a panic, you grab the hand soap from the sink and swiftly turn around, hurling it towards the intruder. The bottle soars through the air, crashing into the wall before landing on the tiled floor.

There was no one there; you were going crazy.

“Calm down. You need to sleep. It’s been a long day; your mind is playing tricks on you.”

You were just full of excuses, desperately trying to maintain your sanity. But surprisingly, those excuses provided a strange comfort, no matter how unbelievable they were. So, you decided to settle yourself down, shedding your work pants and kicking them aside. Your shirt and undergarments followed suit, as you let go of all inhibitions. In that moment, the fear that had consumed you was momentarily forgotten.

You gazed at your reflection in the mirror, taking a moment to wipe away any imperfections. Your eyes wandered down to your body, taking in the soft ridges of faint stretch marks on your breasts with your fingertips. As your palms venture lower, they lovingly caress your thighs, reveling in the velvety softness of your skin and the warmth that radiates from them.

With a shake of your head, you release a sigh of surrender, allowing your hands to fall gracelessly to your sides. You take a step closer to the inviting tub, parting the shower curtain to reveal the steamy water within. As you enter the embrace of the hot water, a soft moan of pleasure escapes your lips, the heat enveloping your entire being and melting away the tension in your muscles. This shower was exactly what you craved.

After diligently scrubbing your skin until it’s both raw (and irresistibly smooth), you find yourself sitting on the floor of the tub, relishing in the sensation of the water cascading over your hair and body. However, as much as you yearn to stay in the blissful sanctuary that is your tub until the water turns cold, you reluctantly acknowledge the losing battle against sleep that you’re already engaged in.

Carefully rising from the bathtub, you extend your hand under the cooling sprays of the water to twist the knobs and halt the shower, pushing the valve down afterward. Exiting the tub, you forgo the use of a towel and opt to let the air dry you while reaching for your toothpaste and toothbrush from their respective places. Relocating your clothes from the sink to the nearby shelf, you proceed to brush your teeth swiftly, counting to fifty before spitting and returning everything to its original position.

You grab your face wash and dispense a small amount onto your palm, with gentle strokes, you massage the cleanser into your skin, creating a lather that removes the remnants of yesterday morning’s messy makeup. Switching on the tap, you lean over the sink, allowing the warm water to flow into your hands, smoothly gliding it across your face and rinsing away the soap.

Your back divots suddenly with a delicate grace as an ethereal caress firmly grasps your sensetive hips, eliciting a startled gasp of surprise from your parted lips. Your eyes pop open, darting around in a hasty manner, well, stupidly, seeing as you hadn’t quite finished washing your face--- the remnants of soap trickling into your eyes. A sharp hiss escapes your mouth as you instinctively lower yourself to rinse away the discomfort.

Once more the tantalizing trail of fingers tracing along your spine is undeniably present. You remain still, your muscles tensing in anticipation, trembling as the touch ascends higher, encircling your neck. With trembling hands, you turn off the faucet and inhale deeply, attempting to steady your racing heart. The deep, seductive timbre of your name being whispered intimately close to your ear fills you with a bone-chilling terror. Quickly, you snatch your garments from the nearby shelf and flee into the sanctuary of your bedroom, momentarily struggling with the bathroom door.

“Calm down, calm down; this is not happening. You’re hallucinating.”

You erratically throw on your shirt, using it to also dry your face, and shimmy your panties up your legs, the soft cotton resting comfortably on your hips. You quickly crawl into bed and pull the comforter up to your chin, shutting your eyes and tucking your bottom lip into your mouth. (Your hair could wait, you were not getting out of bed.)

“Hey, Alexa, turn off: Bedroom Lights. ”

You can’t even recall switching on the overhead light, but honestly, you’re past the point of caring. The mechanical response plunges the room into darkness, and the moment your head hits the pillow (as comfortable as it can be when cold and damp), you’re fast asleep.

You’re unsure how long it’s been, but your eyes flutter open, heavy with sleep when you feel the sensation of large, calloused hands gliding up your stomach softly. The touch is unfamiliar, but it doesn’t necessarily frighten you as it should, instead, you can feel yourself throbbing in your panties, gentle and shy. You blame your sleep deprivation on the lack of fear.

The hands approach your bare breasts, a thumb rubbing over the taught peaks of your pebbled nipples causing a soft gasp to escape your luscious lips, your cheeks burning with fiery heat, and your body arching ever so slightly from the bed, offering your breasts to the awaiting, eager palms.

Your pussy, warm and slick, constricts and drools with your arousal. Maybe it’s the thrill of imagining a supernatural encounter, but you’ve never felt as aroused and eager as you do at this moment; dripping and throbbing.

You feel a surge of anticipation as your panties are gently shifted aside, a trail of your desire following suit. Ghostly fingers swiftly trail up your inner thigh, getting closer to your sopping pussy, and despite the uncertainty of the situation, the mysterious touch ignites a fire within you. The paranormality behind the sensation makes your heart pound and your pussy salivate with need. Lost in a whirlwind of lustful thoughts, a soft caress on your clit causes your hips to involuntarily buck, your lip bruised from the force of your bite. “Ah~”

Your voice comes out as a breathy, needy whine. The suspense of where and when the next touch will land sends shivers of excitement down your spine. And as soon as you're almost on the verge of begging, a rush of hot air sweeps over your dripping core, causing your pussy to clench instinctively. Your throbbing clit pulsates with an insatiable ache, lost in a haze of pleasure, and your eyes roll back, unable to fully grasp the intensity of the experience.

As the sensation engulfs you, your throbbing bud is devoured by their hungry mouth. The combination of their saliva and your own intoxicating arousal trickles down, moistening your tight, quivering entrance. The sensation is nothing short of divine, as if their touch is delicately fondling and slurping at every nerve within your shuddering body.

Your hips, moving with a will of their own, rise from the bed and writhe. You can’t help but squeal softly as firm, powerful, and large hands encircle your hips, forcefully pressing you down onto the mattress, indulging in your warm, sticky juices; skillfully teasing your clit with its tongue. Your cries and pleas echo loudly, a stark contrast to your usual quiet demeanor when having sex with men.

Oh, but you felt like a bitch in heat, like your entire being was engulfed in flames and burning you from the inside out— it made you want to scream and cry.

Your body trembles uncontrollably as the knot tightens, gripping your stomach, thighs, and lower abdomen. In a desperate bid for relief from the agonizing pleasure, you instinctively gyrate your hips. Your vision blurs and fades into a blinding white haze, signaling your impending climax. But just as you teeter on the edge of release, the touches abruptly cease, leaving you yearning for more.

You whimper and attempt to reach down to your soaking pussy to pat and rub at your engorged clit, but you unintentionally freeze in place; a small knot of fear causes your eyes to well up, yet it only intensifies your craving for its caress. When nothing further occurs, you start to plead, like a desperate whore— as if you hadn’t been touched in years.

And as if pleased, the ghostly caresses return to your sensitive clit, moving with a deliberate slowness that sends shivers down your spine. You can’t help but let out a series of soft moans, as you offer up sweet words of gratitude to the mysterious entity pleasuring you.

“Ah, yes, yes, please!”

Your body tenses as the knot tightens, aching with a mix of pain and pleasure. Your hips move uncontrollably, seeking more of that sweet torment. Yet, it stops once more, leaving you to come down from your ruined high. You’re a sobbing mess now, grinding against the air, waiting for something, anything.

Your throat constricts suddenly, leaving you breathless as fingers delve into your tight, dripping pussy, curling and prodding your spongey g-spot. The digits seem to know your pussy like the back of their hand, stroking every nerve inside of you. The squelching sound of your arousal drowns out your heavy breathing and mewling moans. The entity suddenly adds its thumb to the mix, circling your clit quickly. The pleasure escalates swiftly, and your eyes squeeze shut as a rush of pure ecstasy overwhelms you, leaving your thighs quivering and twitching from the deep, blissful climax.

After the high subsides, you pant for air, the tension easing from your throat. You sprawl sensually on your bed, clit throbbing and arousal coating your sheets. A tepid, exhausted breath escapes your lips as a thickness delicately nudges apart the folds of your pulsating entrance, prompting an instinctual urge to flee. However, unyielding hands firmly pull you closer, and your legs reluctantly surrender to their command.

You can feel a bulbous, mushroom-shaped tip forcefully penetrating your quivering, weeping pussy eliciting a mixture of pleasure and pain at the invasion. Your pretty eyes roll quickly to the back of your head as the unknown entity plunges its heavy, thick cock into your tight entrance, your thighs pressed to your chest and legs draped over broad shoulders.

You keen softly, as your pliable walls ensnare his cock in a vice-like, velvety embrace. “More, I need more; please fuck me, please.” Your plea is abruptly silenced as its thick length withdraws from within you, only to resume with an intense, unconventional rhythm—leaving you no opportunity to adjust to its entire length.

The unyielding grip on your waist marks you in the most delicious way, leaving behind a trail of bruises that only heighten the pleasure coursing through you. Your pussy feels so full and sated, despite nothing physically filling you, you throb with satisfaction.

Lost in the depths of your pleasure, the reasons behind your desperate pleas elude you, but you continue to spill them forth without hesitation, unable to think. Once again, your breath is stolen away, your throat constricts, and an intense orgasm surges through you like a forceful tidal wave. A delicious warmth then radiates from your core, spreading through your tummy.

The most painful and pleasurable feeling of being filled with cum has you aching for a taste of it. Your body goes limp, but whatever is fucking you doesn’t stop; their cock pistols into you despite you slowly losing consciousness.

As your eyes flutter open, you gradually rise from the bed. The room is shrouded in darkness, leaving you disoriented about the time you’ve spent asleep. Urgently, you rush to the bathroom due to your full bladder. Stepping out of bed, a gasp escapes your lips as your foot lands on a cold, damp object. Upon closer inspection, you realize it’s your panties. Blushing, you drop them and shake your head, with your hair still slightly wet from the previous night’s shower.

As you enter the bathroom, you opt for the wall light switch instead of the one on the ceiling, casting a gentle, warm radiance throughout the room. Oblivious to your reflection, you casually stroll past the mirror, too exhausted to spare a second glance.

As you ease yourself onto the toilet seat, your tired eyes gently close, and the tinkling sound of you using the bathroom lulls you into a state of sleep for a brief moment. A few moments pass, and you linger a bit longer before reaching for a flushable wet wipe, dutifully cleansing yourself before discarding it into the swirling abyss of the toilet bowl.

With a swift flush, you rise to your feet and shuffle to the sink to cleanse your hands. However, as you slowly open your drowsy eyes and catch a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror, a sudden chill runs down your spine.

As you gingerly raise your shirt, a gasp escapes your lips. The sight before you is both shocking and unsettling. Crimson and violet bruises, resembling the imprint of a colossal hand, encircle your throat, cascading down to conceal your collarbone and shoulders. As your eyes wander further, a gasp escapes your lips. Vivid handprints, a testament to an intimate encounter, mark your hips in crimson and violet, while a constellation of hickies adorns your tummy.

As you gaze into the mirror, you suddenly catch sight of a man standing behind you, from earlier. Surprisingly, he seems closer than the last time you saw him, and you can feel the warmth of his body through your shirt. He stands tall, with bulging muscles and an overwhelming presence that leaves you breathless. However, his appearance remains a mystery, as you struggle to make out his features. Just then, the bathroom door slams shut, plunging the room into darkness as the lights flicker off. Your heart skips a beat as you feel hands slowly trail up your shirt, eventually cupping your pussy.

His voice is like a warm embrace, wrapping around you with its deep, sensual, sinful, and amused tones.

“I’m not done with you yet.”

[bunnywonyo]

I THINK I READ THE WRONG PINOCCHIO

g!p puppet yujin x toy maker’s daughter! reader

synopsis: classic puppet becomes a human but instead of going out to get swallowed by a whale, this puppet fuck their toy maker’s daughter.

word count: 1.8k

tags: agalmatophilia, smut

growing up with your father, you grew to also love the toys he made. from the wooden dolls to the mini animal sculptures that he himself carved. but your favorite type of toys that your father has made were the puppets.

the puppets, there was something about them that has drawn you. it might be their realistic faces or their names or even the fact that they kept you company whenever your father goes out of town to buy toy making materials. this day is another one of those occasions when your father will be gone for a few days to buy materials.

“it won’t take long y/n, i’ll be back in no time. now you be careful here, ok? you know where our food is kept right? i also asked our neighbors to occasionally check up on you, if you run into any trouble just yell for them. also, don’t for to lock the— ”

“i know dad, we go through this every two months since i can remember, i’m already used to it by now.”

“i know, but your old man just can’t help himself. i don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“It’s ok dad besides like you said the neighbors are here plus the puppets keep me company!”

"alright, but promise me you'll be careful," he added, hugging you tightly before grabbing his travel bag.

"i promise, dad," you said with a smile, hoping to reassure him. You slammed the door behind him and turned to face the room full of his works.

you approached the shelf, where the puppets were carefully placed, each with its own unique personality. there was wonyoung, the elegant princess; kazuha, the graceful ballerina; and giselle, the trendy fashionista. however, one puppet struck you the most: yujin, a mysterious puppet with hauntingly gorgeous eyes and a face that was both feminine and masculine.

yujin was by far your favorite among the countless puppets that your father has created. the way her face was sculpted to perfection, those dark brown eyes that seem to be alive, and the way her skin looks so soft despite being made of wood. her unexpected appendage down there was also a bonus(your father explained that yujin was supposed to be a boy but later changed his decision).

you reached out and picked up yujin, feeling a sense of comfort rush over you while holding her in your hands.

as the day passed by, you always had yujin by your side. whether it was to feed the chickens or to bring in the clothes that were set to dry. there was something about her that drew you in, something that, unlike everyone else, gave you the impression that you in some way, were understood.

before long, darkness fell and you had to remain indoors with your puppet companion, even though you have kind neighbors all around you, you never know when danger is around.

after making sure that you’ve locked all possible entrances, you’ve decided to light a few candles and turned on the kitchen light, creating a cozy, warm atmosphere. you then decided to cook some warm vegetable soup. the comforting aroma soon spread out through the whole house making you hum in delight.

once in a while you would glance at yujin who you propped by the dining table. the gentle flicker of the candles danced across yujin's face, giving the puppet an almost lifelike appearance. time passed by and you were soon done cooking. you prepped up the table and got all the necessary utensils to finally eat.

“yujin!! dinner’s ready!” you yelled even though you knew she was a puppet.

‘damn i must be going crazy’

sitting down, you took a sip of the soup, moaning in delight at the taste.

“you know yujin,” you started. “with you here, it doesn’t really feel lonely at all”

the puppet, unresponsive, just sat there yet her wooden eyes somehow looked like they were focused and listening intently to you.

shaking your head, you continued “i wish you were alive yuj, oh the stories i could tell you and the things we could do together.”

“you could walk independently, you could taste my cooking, you could……you could feel love—my love” you lighty ranted

but what you didn’t know was this simple wish of yours could lead to you getting any sleep at all tonight wink wink

after finishing dinner, you cleaned up the dining room and kitchen and also put away the leftovers. you did your nightly routines before putting yujin beside you in your bed.

“goodnight yuj” you say before kissing her on the lips and turning off the lights. you glanced at her one more time before closing your eyes as your consciousness drifts off to dreamland

“y/n”

“psst y/n”

“y/n wake up”

rubbing your eyes, you groaned in annoyance as your sweet slumber was interrupted.

“who is it? what happened? is the kitchen burning?” you asked but you were only answered by the sound of someone giggling.

“who the—WHAT THE FUCK!” you began to talk, but your words were cut short when you lost your balance.

falling off the bed with a bang, you landed on the floor in a tangle of bedding and limb. the force of the fall jolted you completely awake, and you sat up, scratching your head and looking around in confusion. as you struggled to get your bearings, you noticed Yujin sitting up on the bed, her eyes wide with concern. except yujin was no longer a puppet; she was fully alive, with human-like features and a concerned look.

"are you okay?" yujin asked, her voice quiet but filled with concern.

you blinked, trying to fully take in what you were seeing. "yujin? how... how are you alive?" you gasped, looking at her with surprise.

yujin looked down at herself, then back at you, equally bewildered. "i don't know," she said, shaking her head slightly. "one moment i was a puppet, and the next... i'm like this."

you stood up still trying to take in the whole situation when she spoke up again

“y/n i think it might be the kiss” she said

“the kiss?” you repeat feeling your cheeks flush as you remembered what you did a while ago

“yeah the kiss, it might’ve been some kind of magic” she explained while standing up, her tall figure towering over you.

as everything sank in, you realized how close yujin was standing in front of you. you stared at her and you could see her staring back at you. slowly, like a dream, you both leaned in. your breaths mingled, your eyes locked, and suddenly, as if driven by an invisible force, your lips touched in a soft, long kiss. it was delicate at first, but soon turned rough.

yujin placed her hands on your shoulders and deepened the kiss, her lips soft and warm on yours. your heart raced in your chest, and you felt yourself melting into the moment. before you knew it, yujin has already pushed you back to your bed, her body hovering over you.

the two of you locking lips for a while before you broke the kiss “i can’t believe this is real,” you gasped “i’ve been dreaming of this moment for a long time now.”

yujin smirks, hands squeezing your ass before replying, “me too princess, ever since i became conscious.”

you blush at the nickname before feeling something hard press against your thigh.

“yujin is this?..........” you trailed off, pertaining to the ‘thing’ poking your thigh.

“it’s exactly what you think it is princess” her smirk still there, her hand now rubbing your crotch. “i know you want this too.”

“let me take care of you” she whispered, her voice dropping an octave.

you nod in response, heart beating rapidly in anticipation. yujin’s hand moved smoothly across your bodies, slowly undressing the two you. your body shivered at the cold air when she finally finished undressing you. yujin stared at your body with a predatory gaze causing you to cover yourself with your arms. she chuckles at your attempt to cover yourself before grabbing your arms, preventing you from further trying to.

“don’t cover your body princess, your beautiful” she says as she leans to your neck, gently nipping it making you blush

with the two of you now bare, you could finally properly her length. if you had to guess, it was around 8 inches and it was quite girthy. it was veiny and had a huge prominent vein stemming from the base to the underside of the tip.

yujin positioned herself between you, looking into your eyes searching for any signs of discomfort or hesitation. seeing none, she guided her length to your core.

she penetrated you with a slow, deliberate thrust, and you yelped in pleasure. yujin stopped, giving you a moment to adjust, her gaze never leaving yours. "are you okay?" she said softly, her voice full of worry and love.

"yes," you whispered, your body craving more. "please, yujin... don't stop."

with your consent, yujin starts thrusting. each thrust harder and faster than the last one, this lead to you being a moaning and panting mess.

“you like that?” she pants, sweat running down her cheeks. “you like it when i turn you into a moaning mess?”

“yes!” you gasped. “i…–ahhh love it yujin! harder please i–ahhh want more.”

hearing this, yujin smirks before gripping your hips as she increases her pace, her eyes locked straight into yours. her gaze making you feel small.

"you're mine," she whispered, her voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine. "and i'm gonna make you feel so good."

her words drove you over the edge, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. you screamed out her name, your nails clawing her back, pulling her closer as your climax came.

yujin continued to thrust into you, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she chased her release. when she finally reached it, her body tightened, a loud, guttural cry from her lips as she gushed inside you, filling you entirely.

for a few moments, you both lay there, tangled together, your breaths mingling as you came down from your high. yujin brushed a strand of hair away from your face, her gaze softening with affection that made your heart flutter.

“i know we might be going a bit too fast but i love you y/n.” she whispered, her voice filled with sincerity.

you blush at her words before replying “it’s okay yuj, we’re in this together” you cup her cheeks. “and i love you too.”

yujin smiles at your words, leaning in to kiss you. “i’m gonna cherish this chance of being alive to prove to you how much i love you.” she promises.

you held her close, experiencing an overwhelming feeling of completeness and happiness you had never had before. the two of leaned in for one last before getting settled in bed to sleep.

“............”

“hey y/n?”

“hmm?”

“i think i’m getting hard again”

oh boy……..

[latenightdaydreams]

Cowboy!König x Farmer (fem pov)

MDNI🔞

Master List ✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, mention of death (widow), p in v, spanking, oral

2.3k word count

Set in 1890's America

🤠

.

.

It has been exactly four months and seventeen days since your husband, Henry, passed away. The two of you decided to leave your dull city life for the excitement of the untouched wilderness. Everything had been going perfectly. In only five years the both of you were able to build a beautiful home, a big barn with animals to fill it, and enough crops to feed yourselves and sell. Success to the point of needing to hire extra hands. It was the American dream.

It’s just you and a failing farm. The work just continues to pile up and you never seem to be able to catch a break. With no other options, you set off into town looking for help. You hang fliers in the local stores and on street posts, hoping someone reliable will respond. All you can do is wait.

Only just two days later while you’re outside feeding your chickens, you see a black draft horse approaching. You place the bucket of feed on the floor, wipe your hands off on your blue jeans, and adjust your cream-colored button-down shirt before walking towards him. As you approach you notice that underneath the cowboy hat is an odd t-shirt like mask covering his face.

“I hope you’re not here to cause trouble.” You rest your hand on the pistol resting on your hip as you continue to approach him.

“Nein, no trouble, Fräulein."

His thick Austrian accent takes you by surprise. Your eyes look over his body as he gets off of his horse, taking note of how massive this man is. He looks down at you with his pale blue eyes squinting from a smile.

“I’m König,” he holds his hand out to you, “I saw your fliers in town.”

“I’m, y/n. Have you worked on a farm before?” You weakly shake his hand, your body so exhausted from hours of work and no rest.

“I grew up on one in Austria.”

You cross your arms keeping your defenses up as you two speak. There are so many questions running through your mind about his mask, but you decide to not ask. Never in your life did you think a 6’10 giant would be the one to show up.

“Well, as the post states; I can’t pay much but I can offer food and a room to compensate.”

The fact that you can’t afford to pay the standard rate to a farm hand makes you feel ashamed. There used to be three workers and now it’s only you. You can feel the heat in your face begin to build as you wait for him to reject your offer. Without him, you might not be able to keep the farm past this coming harvesting season.

“That sounds like a good deal to me, Fräulein.”

A small smile cracks at the corner of your lips as he agrees. There is a wave of relief that washes over your body. The possibility of getting the farm back to its glory days lingers in the back of your mind.

“Come with me, I’ll give you a tour.”

You turn and start with showing him the farm land before walking inside the home. It’s a two-story farmhouse, well taken care of by your husband. On the walls there are two photos; one of you and your late husband and the other of your parents. You notice König eyeing them, but he doesn’t ask about it.

Up the stairs and around to the left is the spare room. It was supposed to be a nursery, but those hopes of a family died with your husband. In the corner is a single bed and a wardrobe on the wall. It’s not a must, but it’s all you could afford.

“Here is where you’ll be sleeping.” Your eyes follow König as he walks past. His muscles are so big the ripple though the tight blue shirt he’s wearing. His thighs would be so nice to sit on. Henry was a skinny little man. You didn’t know men could be this big. “There are some house rules. No parties, no drinking yourself dumb, and please clean up after yourself.”

König places his small bag on the bed; clearly, he travels light. He nods as he looks around and then his eyes land back on you. The beautiful shade of light blue is only accentuated by the black mask covering his face.

“Ja, I promise to follow the rules. When do I start?”

“You can help me now. All of the animals are fed, but the stalls need to be cleaned out.”

“I’m on it.” König says as he walks past you. You get a whiff of his musky smell from his travels. Deep inside you feel wrong but, on the surface, you can’t help but to be aroused by the man.

You wait a moment before going outside to tend to the crops. Right now, you just need to remain focused on the farm and Henry’s vision. There is no time for men in this life.

You march down the stairs and head to the barn to grab your tools. Once you enter the door you see König with the pitchfork shoveling the animal manure, just as you asked of him. Except his shirt is now off and resting over one of the hooks on the wall. His body is glistening with sweat as his muscles flex with each movement. Trying to not get caught staring, you turn and grab what you need quickly and leave. The sound of your heart beat echoes in your ears, what is wrong with you?

The day passes until the sun begins to set. You’ve noticed that König took the liberty to go around the barn and fix things that have been broken for a while. His work ethic only makes you feel even worse for not being able to pay him more.

A few days pass, the both of you have slowly begun to build a routine. It has been nice to have him around the house, the chores no longer seem unmanageable. There hasn’t been much conversation, but you steal glances of his body everyday when he’s outside.

Today as you’re bent over planting seeds, you feel a warm hand rest on your lower back. You can feel a tingle crash over your body as you stand and turn to him. Your bodies are so close that you can feel the heat radiating from him. All you want to do is rub your hand down his chest and feel his sweat on your body.

“I can finish up; you should go inside and rest.” His eyes flicker back and forth between yours causing your heart to flutter.

“No, it’s okay—”

“Bitte meine Liebe, let me finish.”

You nod slowly. His hand drifts from your back to the curve of your rear before dropping off. The look he gives you melts you completely. Thanking him once more, you walk forward and towards the house. You turn back to look at König and see his eyes following your hips before he continues working.

As you turn the corner, you realize that you forgot your jacket in the barn. You walk back and see it lying next to König’s shirt. With your jacket in hand, you look around before grabbing his shirt. Bringing it up to your face, you take a deep breath in, savoring his scent.

“Liebling, I thought I told you to get some rest.”

König’s voice causes you to jump, accidently dropping his shirt on the ground before turning around to face him. You can’t seem to find the right words to attempt to talk yourself out of this situation; it’s embarrassing.

“I’m so sorry, I know this must look—”

“Like you were smelling my shirt.” König says with a certain cheerful tone in his voice.

All you can do is nod, you’ve been caught; the thought of him quitting makes your heart drop. Words escape you; how does one apologize for this? You pick his shirt back up and hand it to him.

“I’m sorry.” You repeat in a meek tone.

König looks at you for a while before slowly approaching you. His massive hand ups the side of your face and tilts your head back for you to look directly into his eyes. A chill travels over your body.

“That’s…very naughty of you.” His voice is almost a whisper as his other arm wraps around the side of you, pressing you against his chest.

You look up with wide eyes at his response; it isn’t what you were expecting at all. Before you can say anything, his hand squeezes your soft plump ass through your jeans. He gently grinds his hips up against you, making sure you feel how aroused you make him.

“You are simply stunning, Liebling.” König growls in your ear, goosebumps travel all over.

Both of his hands move down to unbutton your shirt, every button felt like it was taking an eternity to undo. The way he looks at your bare breasts like a hungry beast causes your pussy to tingle, a rush of desire pulsing throughout your body. He gently pulls his cowboy hat off and places it on the wooden stable behind you, pulling off his mask as well.

You see a long and deep scar that travels down the right side of his face. It isn’t a turn off for you, he’s still a handsome man. With one hand you reach up and caress the right side of his face gently, König presses his face into your hand as he relishes your touch.

He leans down and wraps his lips around one of your nipples while he unbuttons your jeans. The feeling of his wet tongue swirling around your nipple causes you to let out a soft moan. Your fingers comb back his messy blonde hair as you watch him with closed eyes enjoy your body.

The fabric of your jeans brush along your legs as he pulls them down off of your body along with your underwear. His large hands caress your legs from your calves up to your thighs. He pulls away to look at your full body; your eyes drop to his hands to see his erection straining against his jeans. Your eyes follow as he stands up, towering over your much smaller frame as his hands undo his pants. In this moment you didn’t feel like a widower or even the stress of the farm. It’s just you and König.

A tiny yelp leaves you as he lifts you up and holds you in his arms. Your legs wrap around his waist while he walks with you to the barn wall. His lips crash into yours in a passionate kiss. You pull him to you, deepening the kiss. He tastes strongly of tobacco and smells like sweat from working in the hot sun all day.

König pulls away from the kiss, leaving your lips wet and craving more of him. His eyes look hazy, drunk at this moment. Then you see the head of his cock press against your sopping wet pussy. His once pale blue eyes are now blackened by his pupils.

With one harsh thrust, König shoves himself inside of you. A loud moan leaves your lips as your face scrunches with pleasure. König is such a strong man that he so effortlessly holds you and moves you down on to his cock to meet his thrust.

“Y/n.” He huffs your name.

No words can even be formed as your body experiences new heights of pleasure you’ve never felt before. His cock is monstrous, bullying itself inside of you. Your short finger nails dig into and drag across his pale skin, reddened from the blistering August sun.

Animalistic groans leave König as the most pathetic mewls leave yours. His body leans against yours as he presses you harder against the barn wall, his hips bucking up rapidly like a man in heat. You feel a way of electricity as his tongue licks across the side of your neck. He covers your pulse point with his lips and begins to lightly suck.

Beads of sweat begin to drip on your body, both of you growing increasingly slippery. He gently puts you down, but quickly grabs you by the back of your neck and walks you over to a stack of hay. Not being too rough, he bends you over the stack and presses your face into the hay.

You form goosebumps across your body as he gently caresses down to your hips, grasping them firmly. His pace continues, but you feel his heavy balls slapping against your swollen clit. Your eyes flutter back as one hand reaches behind you to push his chest.

“Too much.” You whimper.

König doesn’t listen, grabbing your arms and folding it behind your back instead. He reaches for your other arm to also hold it that way, one of his hands wrapping around both of your wrist to keep them together. Your ass ripples with every merciless thrust only bringing you closer to orgasm.

You can feel your pussy clenching around his cock, a low moan leaving him in response. This is just too much. The strong build up of ecstasy radiates from deep inside of your core throughout your whole body. In response to this sensation you tremble, König’s name being the only thing you can say as you cry for him over and over again.

“Can I—” König begins to ask, but before he finishes his sentence you can feel his cock begin to pulse deep inside. His heavy body leans forward and rest on you, pressing you more into the hay. He gives your marked neck soft kisses as your body takes every single drop of his cum.

[jiminiecrickets]

DOUBLE TEAM. JJK / M!READER

summary. vigilantism comes in many flavours. jungkook, you, and your parasite come together like a neapolitan sundae.

wc. 17k

tags. smut | mcu spider-man!jk, venom!reader, loootta plot. top reader, bottom jk, established relationship, college au, bloody violence at one point, basketballer!reader, sex toys, mention of handcuffs (on reader), oral, rimming (jk receiving), multiple orgasms, manhandling, venom takes over sometime so it's basically a threesome, size difference, rough sex, lots of come

note: here, the venom/reader biology is less of a suit and more like they morph between shapes at a molecular level to whatever extent they want (bit of body horror)

"wow, he's so handsome..."

"yeah, did you see his results last semester? i can see why he managed to get that internship so young. crazy."

"internship? i heard he was given a job there. like, actually – not as a coffee-and-clipboard boy. proper stuff."

dappled under the shade of a large oak tree, jungkook fixes the earbuds in his ears, scrawling down a few lines for his chemistry homework. he pauses to close his eyes, head bobbing as he jams quietly along to his music. he pushes his soft bangs back from his eyes, a breeze running its fingers gently through his loose locks.

"god, gorgeous and a genius... d'you think my mom would like him?"

"girl, go tell him your name before you start planning the wedding! he's not with anybody. it's the perfect time!"

a slender girl in a pleated tartan skirt and a cropped black vest top sidles up to the end of the bench. she tucks her hair behind her ear and smiles shyly, tilting down slightly in an effort to maintain discretion. "hi... can i talk to you for a moment?"

jungkook shuts his folder and rises to his feet, dusting off his blue jeans. he tosses his backpack over his shoulder and hurries down the small grassy mound, checking his cracked phone screen for the time. he slips past a girl in a tartan skirt and places his hand on your shoulder.

"hey, yn," he greets. "we still on for tonight's study sesh?"

you beam, brightening at the sight of him. you prop the basketball on your hip under your arm. "hey! yeah, of course. oh, i was thinking of bringing some sausage rolls to do in your oven, a chicken salad for 'dessert' – it's more chicken than salad, though, i gotta admit. you mind?"

"no, 'course not – as long as you share. speaking of, i'm starving." casually, he leans up and drops a kiss on your cheek, cupping your jaw. he begins to move off, walking backwards to give you a pointed look. "remember: my place, five-thirty! be there or be square!"

you roll your eyes, smiling fondly. "yeah, yeah – i love you!"

he turns around, forming a heart with his hands and pursing his lips. he nearly bumps into someone, apologising profusely with animated hands. you scoff and roll your eyes, shifting the basketball in your grip and turning back to the girl.

"sorry about that. what did you want to talk about?"

her face is beet red. "o-oh – um, i-it's okay. nothing. sorry to bother you."

you frown, inspecting her with concern. "are you sure? it's not a bother."

behind you, your teammates holler at you to get back in the game. you toss the ball at one and give them the finger. they 'ooh' back at you, laughing amongst themselves as they dribble the ball between them and take lazy shots at the hoop.

"they're animals. don't worry about them." you smile encouragingly at her.

she shakes her head, long hair swaying around her cheekbones. "n-no, it's okay! um – have a good day!"

before you can get another word in, she scampers off to her gaggle of friends, clutching her bag to her side as they engulf her and begin moving off to the library.

you scratch your head but shrug, turning back to the court. you jog towards the others, and they offer every greeting from 'good trip to venus?' to 'get off the fucking court'. you just huff, punching their shoulders, and catch the ball with a soft thump.

"sorry, sorry. i'll send them your way next time."

after your decidedly unrelaxed game, chasing jungkook into the campus centre's cafeteria is the next priority. you find him alone at a round white table, staring at his phone, held landscape.

you pull out a seat from a neighbouring table and flip it around, straddling it backwards as he takes out one earbud and smiles up at you. you nudge his arm and grin, tilting your head at his phone. "finally tracked down your scent. what're you watching, sweetcheeks?"

"local news." he squeaks his chair closer to yours and unplugs his earbuds from the jack, letting them dangle from the neck of his science pun shirt under a zip-up hoodie. "you know the new guy around these parts? a couple of criminals are saying his name is venom."

"venom? is he?"

"is he what?"

"venomous," you clarify. "he's certainly got the teeth for it."

jungkook snorts, grabbing his bottle of iced tea and balancing his phone against it. "i don't think so. he just scares the crap out of people. heard he used to make snacks out of people, though. metal."

"shame. venom powers would be neat," you reply, crossing your arms over the back of the chair and propping your chin on them. "what's the news talking about?"

"mostly, it's just gossip." he shrugs. "'is venom the new spider-man?' 'are spider-man and venom working together?' they say it's 'cause they share some similarities – methods of movement, areas of control. thoughts?"

you inhale deeply. "well, i can't say much, but i will admit that venom does look pretty damn sick." you point at the video clip the news story plays of a huge black figure loping along the sides of buildings. he grabs a cop cruiser in one clawed fist and hurls it at a supervillain, who currently rots away in the raft. "ooh, shit!"

jungkook scoffs, shoving your shoulder. he grins. "so you only like him because he looks cool? not because of his ideals or worldview or anything? i understand, i like 'em big, but you're being a little reductive."

"i'm just a pretty face. i am completely unable to consider anything deeper than the cool factor." you rake his lean body with your gaze and smirk. "have i told you how good you look today?"

"baby, you can't abuse your boyfriend privileges to get out of this debate," jungkook murmurs, leaning in against your lips with a smile. "what do you think of spider-man?"

"eh. six outta ten."

"six?" jungkook sputters, jerking away. "what? you – but he's totally more than a six! eight, at least! do you realise how much math he has to do on the fly while he's swinging around? and i think he looks pretty cool, y'know. the fact that his ears don't stick out of the mask is pretty high-tech, if you ask me."

"easily recognisable, unique silhouette, cool colours." you list them off on your fingers. "both spider-man and venom fit these categories. venom, however, has the intimidation stat maxed out."

"spider-man is totally intimidating," jungkook protests. "i don't like spiders. what if he has secret spider-controlling powers and can corral them into doing his bidding? that's terrifying."

"sure, if you have a thing against spiders. i will say, though: i like that he deals with petty crime. the avengers aren't gonna bother themselves with purse-snatchers and bike theft."

jungkook hums. "finally – something we can agree on. aliens aren't falling from the sky every day."

you share a smile and jungkook shuts off his phone, leaning closer and placing his arms across your part of the table. your noses touch, and he giggles softly as you capture his lips in a tease of a kiss. he tastes like the white icing of his bakery snack.

"wanna go back to yours early?" you murmur, nosing at his neck. his cologne is faint, light and fresh. he's always been sensitive to smell. "we can go out for dinner instead. or take out – i'm easy."

"yeah, i know you're easy," he teases, nibbling on your lower lip. "one kiss and you're already begging to come home with me."

you gasp, offended. "how dare you! just because i am captain of the basketball team and extremely sexy does not mean i am an expert in mattress brands. apologise."

"mm... no."

"apologise!"

"do you take cash," he rests his palm against the back of your neck, bringing your lips to his, "or card?" he ghosts his palm over the front of your pants.

"oh, you little minx," you growl playfully, grabbing his phone off of the table and him by his wrist. "c'mon. you got your helmet?"

he grins and nods, swinging his backpack over his shoulder. "right here."

"good." as you run out of the cafeteria, dragging your giggling boyfriend after you, you lean in, kissing the apple of his cheek. his skin is warm, flushed and pretty. "i'd fuck you in it if it didn't stop me from kissing you."

he gasps. "come again?"

"oh, you know i will be. now, on the bike – hold tight onto me. no hands in the pants this time."

he blows a raspberry, swinging your hands between your bodies. "buzzkill."

—

with a heavy thump, you drop your bag and jungkook's at the base of his desk. his tiny studio apartment is sparsely decorated, but you've come to view it as a place of simple peace and comfort. he clings to you easily, arms wrapped around your shoulders as you carry him to his king-single bed. it's not large enough to fit both of you side by side, meaning that jungkook tends to stack himself on top of you when he snoozes.

"i'm noticing you like to carry me everywhere these days," jungkook whispers, grinning as he sucks on your neck, bruising the skin.

"mhm," you reply breathily, placing him down on his bed and hovering an inch over his body. he wraps his legs around your thighs and pulls your crotch against his. "i've been working out my core. results are finally showing."

jungkook grins darkly, pushing your dark grey letterman jacket off of your shoulders. you help him, shrugging it off. "really? let me have a look, baby."

you kneel back and tug your shirt over your head, revealing planes of soft warm skin. jungkook moans at the sight, tossing off his own clothes all over his apartment in his hurry. he sits up, wrapping his arms around your middle, and plants kisses up your stomach and chest, leading to a soft peck on the bulb of your throat. it bobs as he tucks his face into the side of your neck, breathing in your scent with a soft hum. he draws back slightly.

"did you change your cologne, honey?" he lowers his face again, a cute furrow between his brows and a thoughtful pout on his lips. "you smell different."

"uh – no, i don't think so," you reply, struggling to keep your head on straight when jungkook's hands are venturing down the front of your pants. "could be a new formula."

"mm, yeah, you're right," he whispers, licking his lips as he grips your bulge a little harder, making your hips jolt into his palm. he grins, eyes twinkling with innocent amusement. "hah. you're cute when you're sensitive."

your cheeks warm at the sound of his smooth, lilting voice, dropped lower than usual. arousal stirs deep in your gut. "shut up..."

he coos, gazing up at you as he rests his chin on your sternum. "unused to compliments, baby?"

"n-no, i'm just... not used to people calling me cute."

jungkook's grin widens and he nibbles on his lower lip as he gropes your hardening length through the thick denim of your jeans, his own straining against the zipper. "big boys like you need more love. can i... give you some love?"

his cheeks tint pink when he says that last part, barely a whisper. he's so flirty, yet so shy, and it's a dichotomy you have yet to figure out. still, it's so endearing watching him blush at his own flirtations.

you nod wordlessly, only finding your voice after a moment or two. "yeah. please."

he giggles and tucks his knees under himself to touch his lips to yours. it's surprisingly chaste despite the way he's feeling up your cock, trying to locate every vein and curve through thick denim.

"i bought something the other day," he begins, stroking your hip as he grinds the heel of his palm into your bulge. "i was wondering if you'd like to try it out with me right now."

"you bought something...?" a dark urge to encircle his tiny waist with both hands and fuck him stupid nearly makes you black out. it fills you up from the centre outwards and rams against your ribs like taking huge lungfuls of air, one after another, without allowing yourself to breathe out.

the pressure vanishes as soon as it comes, simmering instead in the pit of your stomach. you kneel on the bed with shaking hands, reeling inside your mind.

"yeah. something for us to play with." he smiles. "or, something for me to play with and for you to enjoy."

"oh," you exhale, barely a wisp of a breath. "you want me to watch?"

your cock stirs at the idea. he's shown himself off for you before using just his hands, and even that felt thick with sin and filth. you don't know how you'd react if he used something else.

"yeah, but it isn't quite what you're thinking. you always please me and forget about yourself, and i wanted to do the same. it's really self-indulgent for me – i've been imagining this for a while. ah, maybe i should just show it to you instead of trying to be all cryptic and mysterious." he laughs at himself and motions for you to stay put. he swings his legs over the small bed and reaches for his bedside drawer, atop which lies a shoebox-sized black box. he picks it up and places it on the sheets in front of you.

with one hand on the edge of the lid, he lifts his gaze, which flickers nervously over your features. "if it's too much, you can just tell me and we won't ever have to talk about this again."

you shake your head. "it's okay. i just wanna know what it is. i can't stop staring at your lips."

with a chuff of laughter, jungkook licks his lips, a little shy. you've never been one to mince your words, and it's rather soul-baring. he can't help the flutter of his heart when he catches your quick glance down at his lips. "alright, alright... somebody's hungry tonight, isn't he?"

"mm, just for you."

jungkook lifts the box's lid and extracts, with only a second of hesitation, a clear silicone fleshlight.

you always please me and forget about yourself.

i've been imagining this for a while.

"you… want to use that... on me," you say, but it's almost a question with how your voice wavers on the last word.

jungkook nods silently.

"but... what about you?" your eyes widen slightly. "wait – is this because i've been really needy recently? are you tired? i'm sorry, i don't know what's gotten into me lately."

he shakes his head quickly. "no, not at all, baby! you could never tire me out – i think your neediness makes you cuter. yes, you're cute, don't give me that face – we went over this already. i just... want to see it more."

"that's why it's transparent?" you ask, unable to hide your amusement. "you want to look at my dick?"

he blushes all the way down his chest. "it's as good a reason as any! can you kiss me? my face is hot and i need a distraction."

like the good boyfriend you are, you oblige, cupping his cheek and drawing him into a slow, deep kiss, prodding your tongue into his willing mouth. he moans as your tongue slides against his own, soft and wet and hot. he places his hands on top of your thighs, your open jeans hanging low to reveal your apollo's belt cinching your hips. he ghosts his palm over the bulge in your boxers as he sucks lightly on your tongue and your whole body shudders like a ship crashing against rocks – the animal, guttural growl that bubbles from the pit in your stomach rumbles in his skull, ferocious lust nearing fury so intense and primal that for a moment jungkook doesn't think it comes from you. as if on instinct, you wrap your arms around jungkook's torso and yank him towards you, pulling his front against yours.

"f-fuck," jungkook nearly whimpers when he pulls away, lashes fluttering as he stares up at you, dark pupils swallowing his irises. he arches his back. you press the flats of your palms against the bumps of his spine. "i didn't know you could make a sound like that..."

"like what?" you murmur, panting softly as you slide your hands under his jeans over the curve of his ass. you push his pants down hurriedly, sloppier than usual. you just... really can't wait.

he shifts his knees to let you take his blue jeans off, his underwear tangled somewhere in the legs. he tilts his head as you bury your face in his neck and shuffle out of your own pants, leaving you both naked on jungkook's single bed – except for your socks. his bed's barely big enough for one person, and with both of you, you're struggling not to slip off. you'll have to be careful if you roll over.

"like... never mind." he shakes his head, staring down with tangible anticipation at the thick length bobbing between your thighs. he's not small, but fuck, you make him feel that way. "just c'mere, please."

"so polite," you chuckle, watching him squirt a generous amount of lube into the toy.

"only for you, honey," he hums. he holds the toy slightly away from his stomach, as if suddenly unsure what to do with it. his indecision only lasts for a moment before those big brown eyes raise to yours. "lay down. we'll do it this way."

"mm. can't refuse the view you'll give me."

he swings his leg over your lap, smiling shyly as he grips your length in one hand. he tears his gaze from yours to sink the entrance of the sleeve down around your cockhead, teasing the glans. he takes about a third of your cock into the toy, glancing up to gauge your reaction. he finds only pleasure in your expression and, emboldened, moves the toy faster, rolling his wrist the same way he strokes you. the toy squelches as it slides down around the middle of your shaft, lube dribbling down the veins of your dick.

"fuck, that's cold," you whisper, acutely aware of how your cock pulses.

jungkook places a soothing hand on your tense thigh, rubbing what you think is meant to be relaxing circles into your skin – except he does it a little too high, a little too close to your dick, and relaxing's the last thing on your mind.

"it's alright," he hums, "you'll warm it up."

you huff at his nonchalance but lay back down, tucking one hand under your head to help bolster his cloud-soft pillows. you could sink in his pillows, drown in them. your other hand rests on his bare thigh.

"good boy," he says cheekily, fucking your cock with the slick toy. it's knobbly on the inside, and almost too tight – but the pain's pleasurable, especially when he gazes down at you with such loving eyes.

"call me that again and i'll out-brat you," you mumble, hissing softly as he slides the toy all the way down. your throbbing cock leaks, and watching it through the silicone makes your skin flush. evidently, he feels the same, staring at it with such intensity you're not sure whether you should feel afraid or aroused.

you decide on the latter.

"you? a brat? you don't have it in you," he says dismissively, stroking and squeezing your balls. he pulls the toy off and swipes his thumb over your leaking slit, gathering all the precum he can. he brings his thumb to his lips and licks it clean.

god, it's always the quiet ones – always the shy ones. your boyfriend, with his alliterative name and baggy jeans and zip-up hoodies, used to be too nervous to initiate things with you – what if you weren't in the mood? what if you didn't find him attractive? but after the first time, after you worshipped his body and got drunk off his pleasure, you seemed to unlock something in him – something dirty and saccharine.

"what – mm – what do you mean?" you ask breathily, closing your eyes as he returns the toy to your length, the squelching lube and precum dripping down your shaft.

"you're too in love with me and too soft. you couldn't hurt a fly. besides, big boy, i noticed how you tensed up when i told you how good you were being for me. did you learn something about yourself?" he teases.

you shake your head, flushing slightly. "i just... like pleasing you."

jungkook's smile grows softer, less coy. his eyes crinkle as he leans down to kiss you briefly, humming gently. "i like pleasing you, too. you can come when you want – don't hold back for me, m'kay?"

"okay."

fuck... you've never seen a prettier sight than this, the angel on your lap totally focussed on making you feel good. he shuffles down your body until his face is level with your cock, and you give him a little more room to lay down by shifting to sit against the headboard. he smiles up at you gratefully, watching closer as the fleshlight swallows up your thick cock again and again. arousal swirls low in his belly as you groan lowly, head tipping back.

bent at the knee, his feet kick absently behind him, ankles crossed. he takes your balls into his hot, wet mouth, sucking softly at the velvety skin as his wrist twists firmly around your dick. he looks so innocent, but the things he's making you feel certainly aren't.

"you're... you're gonna make me come," you groan softly, "doin' that with your pretty mouth..."

"oh? so soon? are you just exceptionally pent up," he drags his tongue against the veins of your cock, "or are you more into this toy than i am?"

"no, you just – oh, shit – you look so good like that. you're so fuckin' pretty with those eyes, those gorgeous lips that i know're so soft – drives me damn near crazy, jus' wanna fuck you all the time—" you're babbling, you know that, feeling your high creep up on you mercilessly. it's almost embarrassing, you can last longer than this, but something inside you is just so damn hungry, so eager. it draws in your lust to a dark bottomless pit in your stomach, gorged with all the pleasure jungkook's giving you but still greedy for more, more, more.

you reach down and hastily twirl jungkook's hair into a short, messy ponytail. you pull him into you, making him moan and his hips jerk – he sucks on your balls, taking each into his mouth one at a time, pumping your cock until the toy leaks with your precum, dripping with it. he licks it up wantonly, gliding his hot tongue over your veins until the whole thing glistens with saliva and lube.

he pants softly, stroking your cock faster until your whole body aches with the will not to give in – you grip the wooden headboard above you to ground yourself, struggling not to lose to the heat and wetness of jungkook's mouth and touch.

you can't. you're better than this. but god is your mind foggy with lust, feeling him lap at your balls like an overexcited puppy, feeling his toy grip your cock so enthusiastically. you want to feel him around you, feel his heat, his walls, real tight and greedy – want to taste him, lick the sweat off his hips, taste your own come on his lips like some filthy exchange of power, prove to him that you're the only one he wants, the only one who'll take such good care of him—

the dam crumples. your spine arches; the world goes white.

when your eyes flutter open – you swear you didn't close them – jungkook's sitting up, dazed and wearing the heaviest blush you've ever seen on him, red from his chest to his ears. his chest heaves, his breath shaky, and a few smears of what looks suspiciously like come cover his cheeks and neck. he hasn't wiped it off yet.

"b... baby..." jesus, your voice is fried. you clear your throat, rather painfully, and try again. "why're you lookin' at me like that...?"

he doesn't say anything for a moment, those huge doe eyes stuck on you. finally, he tears his gaze away, covering his mouth slightly – a jerky half-move that suggests he doesn't really know what to do with himself.

"um," he says softly, his voice a little unsteady, "th-the... the toy – it broke..."

after a second, you frown, still dopey and cotton-brained. maybe you should've done something in the last two weeks instead of postponing it until you could next get jungkook alone. "what? what do you mean, it... broke?"

he extends it to show you. down the side is a long crack, and the closed end is split open. you don't know what to say – you don't know what anyone would say – but by the way jungkook's looking at you, it's clear he wants something.

"do you think they'd refund us for a faulty product?"

clearly, that's not the right thing to say, because he pouts aggressively.

"you got bigger when you came," he mumbles, sweeping his index finger over his cheek and sticking it in his mouth as he glances up at you. he doesn't know how much that casual motion affects you. "like... real big. i didn't know your voice could get that deep, either. it was... kinda hot..."

you don't... remember talking... "did i say something?"

"mm. you pushed my head down and told me i looked good like that. that i was good to you – to us."

"us?" you repeat, an empty dread dropping in your stomach like a stone. you try to hide your dismay, but jungkook has always been particularly receptive to your emotions. either that, or you're just really easy to read.

"it's okay, why are you afraid? it didn't hurt, if that's what you're worried about. i like it when you're rough."

something in the back of your mind preens at that. you shake your head. "alright – yeah. just – i'm sorry for ruining it. i'll pay you back for it."

"don't worry about it. you paid for our last few dinners, so think of this as my turn to pay." he giggles and flushes, leaning closer and straddling your waist. "besides... i got something out of it, too." he takes your hand and places it on his toned stomach. you have to think past the firm muscle of it to notice that it's warm and sticky. he slides his bottom lip between his teeth to hide his flustered grin. "i really like it when you're rough."

it's enough to make your dick twitch to life again, but part of you is still rattled by how easily you just... gave up control.

"i'm glad you liked it," you say softly, "but i don't want to do that again. i don't want to hurt you."

he scoffs, grinning as he comes to sit beside you, shoulder-to-shoulder and hip-to-hip in his narrow bed. "you couldn't hurt me if you tried, baby. i'm stronger than i look. but okay – i get it. do you wanna cuddle in bed for a while, catch our breath?"

you hum softly, burying your head in his shoulder. he strokes your hair. "yeah... but maybe after a shower."

he laughs softly, pushing you off the bed towards the bathroom. he splays out on his back to make sure you don't come creeping back into his arms. "what, city boy, can't handle a little mess?"

"of course, hate that shit. i'd live in a lab if i could."

"how scientist of you. i can see why you joined the life foundation – the entire place looks like a hospital, just with more skylights."

"mm, definitely feel like a doctor, scrubbing my arms up to the elbows every day." you pick up a towel from the stack in jungkook's wardrobe.

"sounds fun. maybe i'll join you, scrub your arms for you."

"don't," you say quickly. you clear your throat, wiping the panic from your voice. "you'll ruin your pretty hands working there. all the soap makes even moisturising painful."

he arches a brow, but doesn't say anything. instead, he hums and turns his gaze to the ceiling. "guess i'm stuck with mister stark, then."

"hey, they're doing some cool stuff with prosthetics right now, and you get to fix the avengers' gear. the avengers, man. you shouldn't sound so sad. have you met thor yet?"

"not yet. the guy's a prince – pretty sure he was better things to do than say hello to some puny human."

"ah, well. at least you're doing something – i'm wasting my life away being someone's assistant."

he watches you for a while as you gather new clothes from your drawer in his wardrobe. he rolls onto his side to keep watching you when you move out of his vision.

"are you okay, honey?" he asks quietly, gazing up at you. "are you still upset over the toy? i told you, i don't mind. it was kinda hot, to be honest..."

you glance over your bare shoulder. he bats his eyelashes and winks. you huff. "you think everything i do is hot. i could sit down and you'd drool over my posture or something."

"how'd you know i like the way you sit? you take up so much space. in a good way, of course! i – i wish i had your confidence."

you soften at the very real vulnerability he displays. not just everyone gets to know his thoughts and feelings. you glance at the towel in your hand and back at him – with a soft sigh, you set your clothes aside and return to the bed, smiling as jungkook's face lights up like a star.

"oh, that was easy," he says flirtatiously, stroking his fingers up and down your chest as you lay down next to him on the pillows.

"i'm your boyfriend, i'm trained to do this," you hum, bearing the discomfort of the chilly stickiness for jungkook's soft gaze, trained on you. the playfulness falls from your tone as you reach up and brush a lock of hair out of his eyes. "you're so beautiful, you know that?"

he giggles bashfully and turns his face into your shoulder, shuffling closer to hide his red cheeks. "gosh, what a charmer. did i do something to turn you all mushy?"

you shrug, cuddling him close to your chest. "not particularly. looking at you just makes me really, really happy."

his eyes crinkle as he smiles, leaning up and kissing your throat. "you big sap... i love you, too."

you bury your nose in his soft dark mop of hair and close your eyes. you don't want to think about how small he feels in your arms, your little finely-muscled dancer. you don't want to think about how easily he can take over now, and how fragile jungkook would be if he wrapped his hands around him.

you only let the feisty parasite stick around so you can better protect jungkook. sure, you have to keep it well-fed with brain matter in exchange, but anything's a fine trade if you can keep your darling safe. with all these genocidal aliens and egomaniacal scientists running about, to make sure this one particular civilian doesn't get trapped under a fallen building, you can't count on anyone else except yourself.

—

no matter how many times jungkook gets slammed into concrete, getting mashed through three floors of an office building in lower manhattan will never stop hurting like hell. even his pride is a little bruised – getting so beat up by the scorpion was almost embarrassing. he'd managed to subdue mac gargan – again – but his mind had been elsewhere during the fight, leading to gargan landing more than a few avoidable hits.

he stumbles slightly when he lands on the fire escape with a soft thump. gripping his bleeding side, he pushes his bedroom window up and slips inside, hissing as a broken rib pokes a nerve. he shuts the blinds of his window and pulls off his mask, breathing easier without it.

finding the time to fix his suit is going to be a pain. he has so many assignments due and so little time.

he limps out of his darkened bedroom, bracing against the door frame for support. he flicks on the bathroom light with a sigh and wanders over to the sink, sparing a glance into the mirror.

great: a big ol' bruise on his cheek, little cuts all over. nothing would heal in time for his chem lab the next day.

he peels the suit off his upper half, too sore to even attempt bending down to pull it off his legs. turning in the mirror shows him the massive purple bruise covering his back and shoulders, green around the edges. he makes a face and it hurts.

guess he's sleeping on his stomach tonight. he pulls the mirror forward, opening up the cupboard behind it, and raises himself onto his toes to reach the first-aid kit on the top shelf, right next to your shaving razor and other bathroom essentials. the small green bag is stuffed full to bursting with gauze, antiseptic, and thread, and maybe it was a blessing to live in criminal-infested new york because you never asked why he had so much on hand.

keys jingle. "hey, baby? are you home already?"

shitshitshitfuckshit—

you peek around the bathroom entrance, your hoodie singed around the edges and smelling faintly of rocket fuel. you frown at the opened first aid kit, cotton pads and saline sitting by the sink, and turn briefly to set the groceries down in the kitchen behind you. you enter the bathroom and glance around at only white tile and glass.

you glance up behind the door and jump three feet out of your skin.

"jesus christ—! what the fuck?" you shout.

jungkook motions haggardly, pressing his finger to his lips with wide eyes. he's backed into the corner of the ceiling – what the fuck – wearing the red-and-blue suit of new york's spider-man – what the actual fuck– and looks like he lost a fight to a brick wall.

what. the. shit.

"pleasepleaseplease don't scream," he whisper-shouts. "sh-shh-shh – let's be normal about this!"

"normal?" you hiss, aggression bleeding into your fear. "ex-cuse me?"

"just don't yell! please." he drops down from the ceiling with one hand and you jerk back, the scene in front of you proven real. "you weren't supposed to find out this way."

"weren't supposed to – this way – what?"

he presses on the spider in the centre of his chest and the whole thing loosens like a deflated balloon, hanging off of his bruised arms. "honey, please don't be angry—"

"angry? angry?" you bark out an incredulous laugh. "i'm fucking furious! you're spider-man? my boyfriend is spider-man?"

he swallows harshly, lowering his gaze to stare at his feet. he nods almost imperceptibly.

"spider-man's been around for years. how long have you been doing this? since fifteen, sixteen?"

"four – fourteen..."

silence.

"you're mad," you say flatly. "actually mad. fourt—" you pinch the bridge of your nose. "you know what, instead of getting upset about how young you were when you first went about punching bike thieves for funsies, i'm going to get upset about the fact that you're bleeding all over yourself. what happened to you?"

"it wasn't for fun," he mumbles. "it was a morals thing. and, um, scorpion tried killing the ol' triple-jay, so i had to step in. the police should have him by now."

"the scorpion? well, we'll be seeing you on tonight's news, then. i'll be able to see exactly how he got you so messed up."

he flushes at your accusing tone, rubbing the back of his neck. "i'm sorry, honey. i meant to tell you… i just didn't know how, or when. i was so scared of the wrong people finding out and… and hurting you."

slowly, you release a deep sigh, and with it goes your anger. "the last thing you should be worried about is anyone hurting me. you should be worried about you. is this what you look like after every fight?"

he shakes his head. "it's not usually so bad. he just got some lucky hits in. i heal quickly, anyway."

placing a tentative hand on his cheek, you turn his face this way and that to examine his wounds. your hand shifts to take the point of his chin under your thumb and he stares up at you with such sweet, sorry eyes, brimming with glossy apologies.

"can't you put down the mask?" you almost plead. "let someone else do it. someone who's got more help than you do."

"who, like the avengers? they only really do world-ending threats, and for all gargan's bluster, he's not that."

you cup his neck and gently run your thumb over his jawline, careful of his wounds. "you… you mean so much to me. i love you something crazy," you whisper, voice dropping to a raw, almost tired rasp. he closes his eyes and wraps his arms around you, resting your foreheads together. "i know i'm selfish, but i don't want to lose you."

"i'll always come home," he murmurs. "i promise. for you, nothing could keep me away. someone has to keep greedy people out of your pants."

you can't help but loose a weak chuckle at that. "i'm yours, baby. will you let me patch you up?"

he nods, gripping your shoulder as you help him step out of the suit. he sucks in a breath when he bends too far in a certain way but attempts a smile when you glance up at him.

"don't worry about it. you'll make me right as rain in no time, won't you, doc?"

"you're going to make me grey with worry," you mumble, straightening up and reaching for the cotton pads and antiseptic. those cuts need tending to. you dab the damp cotton pad onto his brow, gently holding his head in place by cupping the nape of his neck. "hold still, baby."

"'m sorry. stings a little."

"how's it going to feel when i get to that massive scrape on your side?"

he winces at the idea. "if you leave it alone, it'll heal by itself…"

"you beggin' me to not touch it? thought you were the amazing spider-man."

"spider-man eats punches and springs back up with a quip. jungkook gets sweaty hands when approaching the cashier. jungkook's a bitch when it comes to pain."

your hand pauses slightly, then presses harder than necessary on his busted lip. he flinches and whines. "you're still you in the suit, sweetheart. if spider-man can take it, so can you."

"thure," he mumbles thickly, the cotton pad obscuring his words. you move onto the tiny cuts caused by flying shards of glass and he braces himself, gripping your forearms tightly. "so… you're not mad anymore…?"

"no, i'm still furious," you reply. "i just want you in one piece before i rip into you."

he has the gall to giggle nervously. "that's a joke, isn't it?"

you glance down at him and he quietens, suitably chastised.

eventually, after taking care of his wounds and sitting him down at the small dinner table to make him a cup of hot chocolate, you speak up. "every time you came home with a black eye or split lip and told me you got mugged on the way home or tripped on the stairs, it was because of spider-man, wasn't it?"

jungkook fiddles with his sweater sleeves. "yeah."

"you lied to me."

he picks at a loose thread and swallows. "yeah…"

"i always wondered how you healed so fast." you set down the steaming mug in front of him and take a seat across from him, watching him cup the mug in both hands and take tiny sips from it. you cross your arms and look away.

that's the last thing you say for a long while. you stare at the table, mouth twitching every so often as if you want to say something but can't find the right words for it.

"i want to go to bed," you say suddenly, rising to your feet as if pulled by puppet strings. "it's been a long day. come… come join me when you're ready."

jungkook nods and his throat bobs, turning his gaze into the swirling whirlpool in the mug. he whispers, "okay, baby. i'll be there."

you nod and take a step backwards, then another, before turning around and heading into jungkook's bedroom, shutting the door behind you.

jungkook stares at the closed door for a while. he can hear you mumbling, then pausing, and mumbling again, but even for his enhanced hearing, it's too quiet for him to discern. he doesn't know if he wants to know at all – it's probably better if he doesn't know what you're thinking.

he sighs softly, swirling the remnants of his not-so-hot chocolate in his mug. at least you don't hate him, which is more than he could have asked for. you're sleeping in his room, too, and that must mean something.

he hopes you won't leave in the morning.

—

it always starts as a normal day. things don't turn out as you hope they will.

"spider-man's here! spider-man's fighting the sandman!"

you'd been sitting in a ramen restaurant, sipping a pineapple smoothie with your noodle bowl, when the ground-shuddering booms grew close enough to be noticeable. the tv wired up against the wall showed the developing story, with helicopter shots showing flint marko's massive sandy form, bellowing in fury at the tiny red-and-blue figure thwipping around the skyscrapers to avoid hurled cement and rebar.

you can see the same thing out the restaurant window.

civilians scatter, panic and chaos causing a din. people shove past you, and the smart ones don't hang around to whip out their phones. you can taste the dryness in the air, the thick desert-like heat compressing inwards and crackling in your fingertips. sand-marko roars in rage and surges forward like a wave, crumpling cars like tissue paper.

YN.

the low, grating voice is loud in your head, overruling every scream in every direction.

THAT'S A BIG BAD GUY. LET'S FIGHT HIM.

"i'm looking at that church tower, man. he's getting close. the bell's the perfect shape to throw."

COWARD, venom roars in your head. YOU WON'T FIGHT TO SAVE OUR SPIDER?

"i'm not a coward," you snap, dodging an i-bar thrown like a javelin. it pierces the restaurant window. "he's got it covered. he's fought sandman a few times, knows his weaknesses."

if he could, venom would narrow his eyes at you. WE KNOW WHO HE IS. WHY CAN'T HE KNOW WHO WE ARE, YN?

"because we've killed people," you hiss, sprinting towards marko's mammoth form. a barefoot woman in a business suit screams for help, fruitlessly tugging the arm of another woman pinned inside the foyer of a law firm's brick building. "heroes don't do that."

venom forms a simple black face mask and cap over your face to hide your identity a little more. a large pile of concrete chunks from the caved-in floors above trap the woman in a tiny space under a table, where she'd dived for cover. you reach out and an oily black tendril shoots out, smashing a falling chunk of concrete to dust before it can crush the barefoot woman. she doesn't notice among all the other falling debris outside and spots you.

"please, help us!" she cries with a face smeared with ash. "her leg's pinned!"

you run up to them, gripping the edge of the largest chunk of concrete, snapped steel bars sticking out at angles. venom envelops your fist and spreads along the underside of the chunk, giving you more leverage to push it high enough to allow the woman to crawl through. her left leg is smeared with blood, soaking into her pantyhose. she limps out, leaning heavily on the other woman, who stares mutely as you set the concrete slab back down with a grunt and venom slinks back into your skin.

"thanks," she whispers, finding your eyes under the cap. you nod silently, and she helps the other woman hobble out of the ruin that once was a building.

you turn your attention back to the sandman. he's further away, and you notice how jungkook's leading him towards buildings with water towers. most of them are apartment complexes, and with the speed they're moving, there's going to be no shortage of civilians in danger.

"we'll focus on getting people out. spider-man will focus on wrangling the sandman. teamwork makes the dream work." you race towards marko, dodging all the people running the opposite way. if you were smart, you'd follow them, but you're not smart, and venom roars encouragement and puppets your body in the direction of civilians in need when you miss them.

with a bellow like a thousand boulders through glass, marko smashes jungkook through the roof of the train station, the famous, golden grand central terminal. you happen to be there, helping a family find each other through the chaos.

when jungkook wheezes and struggles to his feet, his gaze passes over you – then snaps back. the eyes of his mask widen, and he looks as if he's about to run to you – before marko slams him along the ground with a huge fist of sand.

there are still civilians in the station, trapped underground where the floors have caved in on the stairs to the platforms. on the lowest level, you manage to nudge aside a large piece of steel and concrete, reaching down to a terrified father cradling two little boys in his arms. they flinch back when the debris shifts dangerously, sand swirling in the air above.

"take them," the man pleads, "take my kids – please! i'll wait it out down here. i won't make it through that gap."

"are you kidding?" you shout above the din of battle and distant sirens, eyes widening. booms shake the ground and the walls, reverberating in your bones. "the tunnels might collapse!"

"i'll take that chance," he calls back, ushering forward his older son. he turns to him and grips his shoulder. the boy's in tears, babbling to his dad not to leave him. grimly, he pushes him towards you, and the boy hangs off of your arm as you lift him next to you through the gap in the debris. it's barely big enough for the width of his shoulders, and it'll take too long to clear it all before marko might do something that'll crush or suffocate you all.

the man lifts the infant towards you. you strain to reach for the crying baby, hidden tendrils of black mass extending out of your back and shoulders focussed on keeping the weight off of you and the child sobbing next to you. you take the baby under the arms and hold him to your chest, feeling venom form a wrap carrier around the child. he has enough foresight to turn your jacket into the wrap for appearances later.

the air is getting hot, hard to breathe through the dust, and venom shapes a simple face mask over the baby's mouth and nose to filter the air. the baby stops crying almost immediately with his influence.

with another rattling boom shaking your roots, you peer through the hole, gripping the back of the older boy's sweatshirt to keep him close and steady. "i'm coming back. stay alive."

with that, venom leverages the steel frame away, allowing you to crawl out from beneath it. the young boy clutches your belt as you hurry up what remains of the stairs, coughing in the dry, sandy air.

"vee, how's the baby?" you mutter, running along the lengthy platforms while the fight rages overhead. with every heavy smash, concrete and tiling dust your shoulders, trickling from hairline cracks in the ceiling.

CALM.

"okay… kid, when we get up there, you have to close your eyes and mouth, alright? try not to eat any sand."

he sniffles and nods, his grip tightening with resolve.

grand central and several nearby blocks are ruined with huge piles of sand blown into the corners, making the ground hard to run across. the boy slips a few times but you're always there to haul him back up.

half of your attention is on spider-man. even as you're lifting a displaced i-bar from a nearby construction site from the entrance, one eye is on the tiny red-and-blue figure zipping around and a shrinking sandman. marko's patches of dark sand slough off in heavy cascades, enraging him – making him desperate.

you run the children to a nearby police blockade, which is little more than two or three cars parked haphazardly across the road. a fire engine is parked nearby – the older boy screams, "mom!" and stumbles towards a woman in firefighter gear. with the way they embrace and the woman checks him for injuries, you don't have much worry bundling the now-crying infant up in his blanket and pressing him into her arms. you don't wait for swapped words or even eye contact before spinning on your heel and running back towards the ruins of the train station.

"flint! you have to stop this!" jungkook shouts, crashing another water tower down onto him. "what's going on, man?"

"i can't stay here!" marko bellows, his voice like the whip of a hurricane. he flings a billboard at jungkook, which he deftly dodges. "i won't!"

"what are you talking about? why not?" he threads the needle between slabs of debris swirling in marko's storm. "marko, you're going to hurt people!"

in response, he roars, whipping up a sandstorm into a single spear-like point, and hurls it down towards jungkook.

he dodges, pulling himself out of the way just in time, but you don't have his spider-sense. the shaft of the beige spear thrusts through your heart.

jungkook's senses explode until his ears ring. he looks back and screams.

the father's hand slips in yours as your grip loosens. he cries out in horror and blood stains the compressed sand, dripping from the tip.

you can't breathe. the sand collapses where it sits, including in the gaping wound the size of a beer bottle. frantically, venom floods the wound, pushing out the contaminants and creating and stitching your cells back together. but with his attention already divided through holding two tonnes of steel off your back and bolstering your strength to lift the man with one hand, he has to choose his battles. he chooses you – you can feel the power draining from you, your hand slipping around the father's.

you blink, hard, to rid yourself of the dizziness and nausea rising in your gut as venom stitches your heart and lungs and bones back together. you stare down at the man, whose terrified face is splattered with your blood. "i'm going to pull," you rasp, blood spilling from your lips. "your family's safe."

and you pull. you pull and pull, twice as hard because your hands are wet with blood and sweat, and the man finally manages to grab the edges of the hole and clamber out, collapsing beside you.

you push him weakly, hands feeling fat and rubbery. "go," you cough, able to feel the air on your exposed heart. you push him again. "go."

the floor of the station crumbles into a sinkhole over you, blocking you into a tiny space. you slump over, blinking hard with your forehead against the ground to rid yourself of the black spots swimming into your vision.

a cry of your name, and light spears down onto you. jungkook roars with effort as he hauls six feet of steel and concrete off of you and it crashes into the wall of the train station, crumbling into pieces.

he wraps an arm around you and webs the ceiling, lifting you out and hiding behind a corner. he falls to his knees, dragging you towards him by your shoulders with a sob.

"b-baby," he sobs, tremors wracking his shoulders. "baby, no, no, oh, god, i'm so sorry – baby, please—"

he peels back your black jacket and a wail rips through him at the sight. you keep your bleary gaze on the red of his mask, feeling venom squirm inside your cells, beating on the walls to let him out, to heal you. by sheer fucking willpower you manage to hold him back, burning him whenever he comes too close to the edges of your wound. he roars inside your head, slamming his will against yours in an effort to subdue you, knock you out of the driver's seat.

NO! STOP FIGHTING ME!

he can't know. it would break him.

your lips part to speak. your throat is dry, your tongue too big for your mouth. "you sh-should… go fight that bad guy…"

NO!

jungkook rips off his mask. he can't breathe, and his world crumbles around him. tears stream down his cheeks and throat. he gasps, breaths short and wheezing, and cradles you close, rocking your body against his. "no," he hiccups, gloved hands shifting down your chest to clear the cloth around the hole that goes right through. he can see the blue of his suit through it and bile rises in his throat. "no!"

"it's okay," you sigh raggedly, reaching up and groping for his face. you can't see much in the blurry darkness invading your vision. "s'okay… 's okay. you can win this. c-come find me… later…"

"fuck that!" he cries, gripping you tighter and obsessively running his hand through your sandy hair, pressing his lips to your temple. his tears are wet and cold against your skin, a small reprieve from the suffocating heat.

he clutches your hand to his cheek, pinning it there. his dark eyes glimmer with fat tears, and you can't help but think it's beautiful how his lashes clump together and the reflections waver in his eyes like the starry sky in a lake. "i'm sorry. i'm so sorry," he whimpers. "i love you. i love you. please – p-please don’t go, please don't leave me – don't close your fucking eyes!" he screams when your gaze slips from his to blink slowly up at the ceiling, each blink getting heavier and heavier; the voice in your head gets harder to ignore. he presses his palm over the gushing wound. "no, no, no, no, no—! i-i can fix this, okay, you'll be okay! i can fix—"

a massive sandy club slams into him. he cracks the wall with the force and he groans as he peels himself out of the crevices, his limbs wobbly and his head ringing.

sandman is smaller now, human-sized. he grips his weapon, and in his hands it transforms into a battleaxe, the blade edges gleaming as he compresses it to razor-sharp glass.

jungkook glances aside, where your body lays crumpled and limp, dark oily blood pooling under your shoulders. he looks back at flint marko and all he sees is red.

he doesn't use his webs, doesn't wall-crawl. he lunges like a panther and drives his fists into his face, his screams of agony tearing his throat up ten times over.

over and over. over and over.

marko groans weakly, his face swollen and bruised. his lips are thick and purple, blood and saliva spilling onto the floor.

jungkook knows the bones of his hands are cracked. he can feel them grinding against each other, but the pain doesn't register. all he knows is that a villain is still alive, and that his best friend is not.

he raises his fist, flexing his hand. his chest heaves. he wonders what sandman would look like if he didn't hold back. he might knock off his head.

that sounded good.

his fist comes down – and halts.

jungkook tugs. a large hand tightens around his wrist. he raises his eyes.

large, filmy white eyes stare down at him, a grinning mouth like a red slash filled with too-big teeth widening slightly.

"HELLO, PRETTY SPIDER," venom purrs, eight-foot-tall body blocking out the hazy sunlight. "LET'S TALK."

jungkook makes a sound between a gasp and a retch as he pats his face and finds only skin. "my mask—"

"DON'T BOTHER," interrupts venom, tugging jungkook's wrist and pulling him off of marko's limp body, whose chest still rises and falls shallowly. "WE ALREADY KNOW WHO YOU ARE."

"you do?" jungkook rasps, on his knees and still swaying dangerously. "'we'…?"

venom's long scarlet tongue lolls out of his mouth as he grins. those murky white eyes are hard to track. "HE DOESN'T WANT YOU TO KNOW HIM. EVEN NOW HE SHOUTS AT ME." his eyes narrow and he glances aside. "BUT I CAN PUT HIM BACK TO SLEEP IF HE WANTS IT."

jungkook swallows, his eyelids heavy and his body begging to lay down and rest. he cradles his ruined fists, blood seeping through the cloth.  "i don't… i…"

the monstrous, grating voice almost seems to soften. "ALLOW ME TO HEAL YOU."

he offers a large clawed hand. his skin is black and oily, somewhere between flesh and liquid. it never stays in one place for long, swirling and smoothing over in faint patterns like mixing thick paint. heart in his mouth and mind in pieces, jungkook places his hand in venom's.

the black oily goo begins to spread over venom's knuckles, seeping into jungkook's suit and skin. the feeling is cold and damp and jungkook panics, scratching at his skin and yanking his arm back, but venom holds fast, and his inhumanly bulky body begins to shrink – down, down. oily blackness gives way to soft human skin.

you gaze back at jungkook, eyes apprehensive and sorrowful. his hand lays in yours. you lick your lips, glancing down at the black shirt and jacket over your heart. like it never even happened.

"hey," you greet softly, your voice a comforting low rumble.

jungkook stares up at you: still, silent, unseeing. his eyes well with tears, and he doesn't move, his gaze doesn't shift, as they slip down his cheeks, creating new clean tracks over his dusty, bloodstained cheeks.

your lips quirk up mirthlessly. "look like you've seen a ghost."

"no," he whispers in a voice like sandpaper. he yanks his hand away and rubs his eyes roughly until stars and colours bloom in his vision. "no, no, i'm going crazy, oh, god—" his voice cracks on the last word, his shoulders shaking.

you fall to your knees, taking his hands firmly in yours and pinning them to his sides. "look at me. look at me, baby," you whisper, "open your eyes."

stubbornly, they remain screwed shut. he shakes his head constantly, his shoulders hunching over. venom returns to you, black tendrils trickling back between the cells of your body.

you sigh, glancing down at your entwined hands. you link your fingers with his. "you're probably disgusted with me, i know. you've read the reports, watched the news. you know what i am – what we are. we're not a hero like you are. i understand if you don't want me to be your boyfriend anymore."

at that, he lets out a terrified little gasp and his eyes shoot open.

"there we go," you murmur. "but i was telling the truth. we aren't compatible."

"shut up."

you glance up. "what?"

"shut up," he repeats, louder. his voice is shaky. "i'm… you're… i'm still processing the first part. slow down. please."

"what first part?"

his head snaps up, the anger in his expression taking you by surprise. "the fucking part where you aren't fucking dead!"

his voice echoes in the empty train station, half-ruined and buried in sand. his chest heaves after the outburst.

he exhales shakily and sits back on his heels, turning his hands over and pressing his thumbs against his knuckles. there is no pain, no grinding broken bones. "i… just let me…"

he sways on the spot and keels over. you rush forward and catch him, cradling him in your arms.

"baby," you whisper, shaking him slightly. "baby."

the sirens of police cars swerving on the gritty roads outside catch your attention. once they've secured the civilians, they'll be closing in on marko quickly, and he doesn’t look like he's in any position to wake up soon, let alone fight back. you glance down at jungkook's limp body, his eyes closed and lips parted slightly.

you shift him in your arms and lift him easily, walking past the pool of your own blood. the red spider-man mask sits crumpled on the ground, and a black tendril scoops it up as you move past it. with each step, venom grows, engulfing your body until it's just him cradling jungkook's small body in one muscular arm. he exits the train station and lifts a hand, shooting a thick black webby tendril into the air and launching himself up, away from the sirens and the journalists' chatter.

—

when jungkook opens his eyes again, he's staring at the golden sky. the sun is about to touch the horizon behind pillars and pillars of glassy skyscrapers.

a hand cards through his hair, gentle and familiar. he turns his head.

you smile down at him, hair tussling in the wind. you're wearing a different set of black clothes. his zip-up hoodie slips down his shoulder and you pull it back up.

"morning, sleepyhead," you hum, combing his unruly hair with your fingers. "feeling better?"

he blinks, bleary-eyed, at his shoes. "what…? how did i…"

"you passed out after fighting sandman. we headed home long enough to grab you a jacket and then we decided to bring you up here, away from the hubbub of the city streets. thought you'd appreciate it." you glance up, gazing at the sunset. "can't deny that view, either."

"'we'," jungkook repeats, his thoughts chugging slowly. he blinks and shoots upright, staring back at you with huge brown eyes. "oh my god. you're that guy. you're venom."

"half of him, yes," you agree, watching him carefully.

he turns back around, staring at his lap. part of him wants to throw up. another part wants to scream, and yet another wants to leap into your arms, cry, and pass out again.

instead, he turns back to you. "tell me how it works."

"how venom works?"

jungkook nods, turning to face you fully. he folds his legs under himself.

"well—" the words get jumbled up in your head. where could you even start?

THE BEGINNING.

so you do. the lab breach, the symbiosis achieved, the fight with riot and the rocket. jungkook listens attentively, nodding along but otherwise quiet. sometime during your recounting, he slides closer to you, sharing the air conditioning unit as a backrest. he tucks his knees up against his chest and wraps his arms around them, resting his head against your shoulder.

when you finish, you sit in silence for a time, wondering if you've missed anything. venom doesn't think you have, so you glance down at jungkook, searching him for a response.

"so…" he begins quietly, "is that why you never carry a bag around anymore, yet always seem to have a laptop and pens when you need it? venom has freaking hammerspace?"

you chuckle, resting your temple against the top of jungkook's head. "no, interdimensional pockets of spacetime, obviously. yeah, it's how he can get so big despite originally being the size of a large bag of chips. he pulls our mass out of… somewhere."

"somewhere," jungkook echoes, thoughtlessly. despite the tone of his voice, you can feel him tensing up against you, all his muscles like steel corded rope as he leans in. new science never fails to excite him, and he's always been a hard-science kind of guy with physics and chemistry. your specialisation in alien biochem opens a new world to him, and it doesn't help that he loves hearing you talk.

you wrap an arm around him, kissing his temple. "i'm not really sure how it works. that was one of the things we were looking into when the lab, er, went kablooey. maybe vee could tell you about it."

his eyes widen. "would he really?"

DON'T LOOK AT ME.

you clear your throat. "uh… he doesn't know how it works, either. i don't think they had scientists on their asteroid."

jungkook visibly dims at that, but shrugs and nuzzles into your shoulder with a sigh. "it's okay. i just think that's so cool. i could finally stop making a point to take my camera out with me – and i'd never run out of film." he jerks back, staring up at you with wide eyes. "you could take all you wanted with you on planes! no more stupid weight limit. man, that would have been so helpful in italy."

"yeah, but bad for your bank account, baby," you tease, nudging him with a grin.

"shut up. like you didn't wear that necklace for two straight years." he gazes up at you with gentle brown eyes. they flicker down to your lips and back to your eyes. he leans in.

you meet him halfway, cradling the back of his head and curling your fingers in his hair. you groan softly as he nips at your lower lip. a low, pleased rumble reverberates in your chest and stomach as he swings his legs over yours, straddling your lap and tilting his head to kiss you deeper. his lips are soft, if a little chapped. luckily for him, you're wearing chapstick.

he sits back with a hum and smacks his lips. "mm. cherry?"

"guess again," you murmur, and his brow pinches slightly. he leans in, capturing your lips, and when he parts, he takes your heart with him, comfortingly sitting behind his teeth.

he frowns, deep in thought. "is it… cola?"

"no. it was cherry," you admit, sliding your hands up his thighs and squeezing. "i lied – sorry. i wanted another kiss."

he laughs and thunks his forehead against yours, pecking your lips. "i knew it. nothing else quite captures the flavour of synthetic cherry like chapstick. it's super sweet. like you," he adds cheekily, eyes crinkling. "you're so stupid... you could have just kissed me again. i wouldn't have minded."

you hum quietly, avoiding eye contact. you lift your hands off of him. "i just… are you faking it right now?"

his smile vanishes. "faking what?"

"you're acting like you don't care about what i've done. i'm a murderer," you implore, "you shouldn't want me anymore. you're spider-man and the best hero we don't deserve. can we at least talk about it, rather than pretending as if nothing happened?"

he sits quietly on your lap for a while, shifting his weight to fully rest on you. he stares down at his hands and plays with the zipper of your jacket, wiggling the metal tag up and down about an inch either way.

"i don't know what to say," he whispers eventually, not lifting his eyes. "i love you. you know that. i really, really do. i just never thought we'd have such… fundamentally different takes on vigilantism."

he chuckles at himself, a little self-deprecating. "you make me really happy, and it might be cruel, but i don't want to give you up for anything. not even if you, um, bit people's heads off… you don't do that anymore, right?"

"no," you reply quickly, shaking your head. "no – no. it won't happen again, either. we've found a better way to sustain him. he especially likes those little… hershey's kisses."

"he likes kisses?" jungkook sounds surprised.

"yeah, i know. i had the same reaction." you shrug, cuddling jungkook's waist and pressing your cheek into his shoulder. he drapes his arms over your shoulders. "anyway. thank you. for… for being selfish."

"you say it as if you expected differently," he says softly, gaze searching and imploring. "you really thought i'd hate you?"

silently, you nod. your hair tickles jungkook's cheek.

"i could never hate you," he says firmly, cupping your face. "we've been through so much together. we can – we can get through this. maybe you guys can just… tone down the violence a little, maybe?"

"we'll try our best," you whisper. your gaze flickers down to his lips. "thank you."

he hums softly, pressing his forehead against yours. he closes his eyes, the gentle breeze loosening his hair from behind his ears. you tuck them back and cup his jaw, bringing him in for a deep, hungry kiss. he moans into it and wraps his arms around your shoulders, the raised black webbing of his suit bumping over the base of your neck as he cups it.

you part with a sharp gasp as he nips your lower lip with his teeth, the sting only serving to deepen the hunger gnawing in your lower stomach.

jungkook jerks back, eyes widening. hastily, he wipes the blood from your lip, already babbling apologies. "o-oh, crap, i'm sorry! i'm so sorry, i didn't mean to – does it hurt—?"

"fuck, we liked that," you rasp, gazing up at your perfect pretty boy in your lap, and you swear you can see your own pupils blow with lust in some strange godly out-of-body vision. you grin up at jungkook and pull his arms back around you, hearing his already-quick heartbeat pound.

"i… i don't – why do you want to bleed?" he sounds so clueless, so worried, and a deep, pleased rumble escapes your chest. no one knows who it comes from.

"i like anything you give me. 'sides, it's not like you can really hurt me, you know? since you know my big dark secret, and all."

he glances away. he tugs at your jacket's lapels, straightening them for the sake of it. "i don't… i don't really like the taste of blood," he mumbles, rubbing his cheek with the back of his knuckles to brush away the tickle of hair. "i like it when we're rough, but – but just no blood, please. i like anything until that point."

your gaze softens. venom seals the two edges of the nick without having to be asked, and you dab away the remaining blood with your sleeve. "does it remind you too much of bad fights?"

he nods, exhaling shakily. "and you. today. i can’t – i really th-thought you were—"

you hush him as he leans into you, gripping you tight. he buries his head in your neck and you kiss his shoulder, cradling him as he curls into your embrace. "you wanna head home? make some waffles and cuddle?"

"n-no. i'll deal with it later when my brain catches up, so let's pretend like it didn't happen. right now, my suit is so painfully tight and i really want you to fix it."

"sure, yeah. but you know venom controls our suit, right?" you say, lips curving into a soft, half-teasing smile. "i'm no seamstress. tailoring anything but the inseam is a challenge."

"shut up," he groans, grabbing your hand and pressing it against his bulge. you can feel the stiffness of a cup, thin enough to keep his silhouette clean and flat. "you're gonna put me out of a job if you get any quippier."

"i'd be a pretty sick spider-man." suddenly, you push him down, flipping him onto his back as you slide between his warm thick thighs. you cradle the back of his head before resting it against the concrete rooftop, careful with him as you always are. his eyes widen and he flushes dark as your clothes melt into an inky black layer, skin-tight, just like his. as venom hems off the neck, black tendrils sinking into the skin behind your ears and nape and below your adam's apple, a flourish of white spreads across your chest like a lily unfurling.

"h-hey," he protests weakly, though he reaches up to trace the slender spider motif embossed into the suit. "i designed that."

you scoff, rolling your hips against his teasingly. "can you even enact intellectual property laws if you've got a secret identity? mine now – finders-keepers." you nip at his neck and kiss your way down the centre of his chest, feeling his breaths stutter as you press the spider emblem in the middle of his chest. "now, that is some view…"

softly, he whines and kicks your thigh, petulantly covering his bare chest. all it does is tense his biceps and squeeze his chest together, all impossibly chiselled. fuck, why couldn't you have gotten bit by a radioactive spider instead of playing host to an alien who exacerbates your worst instincts?

"not fair," he huffs, pushing your face away from his washboard abs. he tugs the suit back over his arms and smirks when you groan at the loss. "mm… i can't take your clothes off, so you shouldn't be able to take mine off. what if i wanna see you, too?"

"what, not a fan of the black suit?" you pout, flexing an arm teasingly. you don't miss how his eyes snap to it, his pink lips parting slightly.

"don't make me lie to get it off you." he taps the emblem at his chest, tightening the suit, and swings his legs around so he can mirror your kneeling position. he glances down and hums, wrapping his arms around your waist and propping his chin against your chest as he gazes up at you. "might be a literary message here. anti spider-man versus the original… morals, outlooks, aesthetics?"

"i'll go back to my normal look if you suck my cock in your suit," you offer.

jungkook's cheeks darken as he giggles, embarrassed. "y-you're serious?"

"yeah. we'll even do it now. think of it as a down payment." the suit shifts and billows – and you're wearing jeans and a leather jacket again. you exhale softly, palming your hardening cock, and jungkook's dark eyes can't tear themselves from devouring the sight. "so? thoughts?"

"i wasn't talking about your outfit," he murmurs, sliding his gloved hands up over your knees and thighs. he shifts, pressing his nose into your bulge, and gazes up at you through his long lashes. "you really wanna fuck me… i-in the suit?"

"shit, fuck yeah," you breathe, carding your fingers through his hair. "that's so fucking hot."

he giggles again, already reaching for your belt and zipper. if venom unentwines your belt for him, he doesn't mention it. "naughty, naughty… what does venom think?"

"he thinks you're our pretty spider, but you already know that," you huff, closing your eyes as he mouths at your boxers. "he's dirty-talking. no, i'm not telling him that. you can do it yourself later if he wants to hear it."

"so, my boys are happy, yeah?" he purrs, nuzzling into your twitching cock. "mm, i can tell. you're drooling, baby."

"because you're being a damn tease," you groan, tipping your head back against the concrete block forming the roof access. you buck your hips into him – THAT IS PITIFUL – and jungkook moans softly, teasing the band of your underwear. "please, nnh, please…"

"didn't quite catch that. you want this?"

"shit, yes, i know you heard it. fuck me, my dick's gonna fall off from how fucking hard it is," you complain, swallowing harshly as he accepts it with a proud little smile on his lips, tugging your underwear under your shaft. he hums, pleased, as he gazes up at it, stroking the base lazily.

"has venom made you more impatient? try to relax, honey… don't want you bursting in my mouth after three seconds, now, do we?"

"you're such a jerk…"

"mhm, yeah. venom's made you less patient. do you remember when we used those handcuffs? you were so good for me then." he licks a long, flat stripe up your cock from base to head and flicks the tip of his tongue over the glans rapidly, moaning softly as your hips jerk into his mouth.

your nails dig into the rough concrete below you, cold under your shoulders. they crumble slightly under your touch. "oh, fuck… those were real, weren't they? where'd you get them?"

"they tried to arrest spider-man once, way back. but i have a detective friend who happened to be nearby, and she helped me out. didn't take the cuffs from me, though."

it dawns on you like a bucket of ice down your neck. "that's why we never used them again. you snapped them to get me out of them."

jungkook glances up at you, mouthing at your balls contentedly. his eyes crinkle when he grins. "smart cookie."

easily, he takes the head into his mouth, suckling wetly as he strokes the rest in his hand. he pulls away briefly to spit on your cock – jesus fucking christ – and his pink lips stretch pale around your shaft as he lowers his head, swallowing several inches in one motion.

your head tips back and a drawled moan escapes your lips. you chuckle lazily, twisting a hand in his hair as he bobs his head, gradually taking more into his mouth. looking at him, that shiny skintight red-and-blue – you could burst right there.

fucking a superhero. you never could have dreamt it. a superhero is giving you head so sloppy it's dripping down your balls.

hm. maybe venom is influencing you more than you thought, because two months ago such a thought would've set your face on fire, yet all it does now is lead you to imagine what new positions you could try with your pretty spider, how else you could have him swallowing your come.

popping off with a wet gasp, jungkook grins up at you with half-lidded eyes, panting for breath. he nibbles his lower lip as he pumps your cock steadily, his gaze glued to how the generous precome drips over his knuckles and down the web-shooters of his suit. he giggles and shivers with a thought – how full would he feel if you finished inside him? has that changed?

he stuffs your cock into his mouth to hide his blush.

"fuck, sweetheart, 'm gonna come if you keep sucking like that," you groan, the filthy schlk-schlk of his hot wet throat bubbling arousal in your gut. his nose brushes the warm skin of your lower stomach and his gaze is dark and clouded when he gazes up at you, his throat constantly constricting and loosening as he swallows around your throbbing dick.

he doesn't say anything, but he doesn't need to. his grip tightens on your thighs, digging into your skin, and he swirls his tongue desperately over the veins, flicking and curling as he feels your rapid, booming heartbeat in his mouth.

saliva drips down his chin as you thrust sharply into his mouth with a hissed curse. his eyes roll back as hot, thick come bursts down his throat and he can't even whimper – no room to. your fist yanks his head closer and he drools as what feels like gallons of come warm his belly. your hips grind roughly against his lips.

when your grip finally loosens, jungkook collapses backwards onto an elbow with a raspy gasp, chest heaving. he's never had much of a gag reflex, not since the bite, but fuck…

when his eyes flutter open, he wipes his slick, swollen lips and sits up, skin too hot for his suit. his cock throbs against the cup, wet and aching. he nearly collapses, arms unable to hold up his own weight, but you're there to catch him, one hand twisting in the back of his jacket to hold him up by the scruff like a kitten. he whimpers, fingers tugging ineffectively at your clothes.

"thanks, baby," you say huskily, pulling him into your arms and crushing your lips to his. the taste is sweet with a slight salty tang and he moans as your tongue pushes against his, messy and animal. he melts into your arms, limbs like noodles as you kiss him and lap up your own come from the corners of his mouth.

he nearly cries when you slip your thigh between his legs. he grips your shoulders for balance as he ruts against your thigh, needy gasps and moans spilling freely from his lips – you rumble your approval when he wraps his arms tightly around you, temple pressed against yours and lips right by your ear. his hips lose their rhythm until he's practically humping you, the stinging pleasure of his trapped cock spiking hot desire up his spine.

with one hand, you grope his ass, rumbling purrs sighed from deep in your chest. you can taste the embarrassment sweetening his eager moans – how lucky you are to have such a cute little spider.

but you are HUNGRY.

thick black claws shape your fingers. jungkook squeaks at the sharp riiip of cloth and he gasps, stiffening and twisting around to check the damage instinctively. you kiss his shoulder placatingly as you slap his ass, squeezing the soft meat and muscle.

"fuck—! it's cold," he whines, gripping your wrist. "oh, man, my suit's already torn from earlier – you couldn’t've just waited until i took it off?"

"wouldn't that just make you colder?" you reply, amused.

"well, now i have to replace the entire blue section from my hips to my knees! i can't just sew a line up my ass, now, can i?"

"yeah, yeah, you can bitch to me later. i'll fix it," you huff, grabbing him by his little waist and pushing him down beside you. you flip him over onto his stomach and tug his hips up. you take a moment to admire your boyfriend. how nice that is to think – your boyfriend. "mm… just wanna eat you right up."

tucking his head against his forearms, he gazes over his shoulder at you, face flushed and hair mussed. he grins, a little breathless. "please don't eat me, mister venom…"

your other half growls, his hunger overtaking any reservations you have about prepping jungkook properly. you move before you can think, your lips parting and your clawed fingers pulling to reveal his twitching asshole.

your long, long tongue pushes into him, saliva squelching obscenely as it wriggles inside him, flicking and curling against his tight, gummy walls.

he squeals, his heart jumping into his throat with shock, fear, and a healthy dose of burning liquid desire. he knows what it is before his brain can make a thought out of it. it's so deviant that the shock and shame make his tip drip faster. he tugs his jacket sleeves over his knuckles and hides his face in the soft pools of cotton, biting down harshly on his arm to muffle his wanton cries and helpless moans.

"mmgh – ngh! oh fuck. holy fuck, b-baby—! baby, n-not so fast, i'll – 'm sensitive…!"

hot and thick, thick as a cock, your tongue worms its way into him, thrusting and writhing relentlessly. he is plump and soft and utterly delectable, a sweet tasty treat you'll hunger for long after you pull out from his clenching walls.

you can't think – your dick throbs – you see the world through a faint filmy white. you're more monster than man, able to taste the wine-heavy sweetness of jungkook's arousal in the air. it is hard to breathe through his scent – you have to push against it, like wading through waist-high water.

his hips jerk away from you and you growl in warning, yanking him back towards you with a squelch of wetness. your saliva drips down his ass and thighs – thick thighs that quiver like leaves – and jungkook cries, his eyes rolling to show their whites.

somewhere in the back of your brain, you think he came. probably hard. obsessed with his sweet, soft taste as you are, however, and unable to see his cock because of his suit – it makes no difference to your animal indulgences.

jungkook babbles half-words and nonsense, punctuated by shouts of pleasure as your tongue wriggles and glides against his swollen prostate. he comes again with a cry, the stickiness between his thighs only growing with every passing minute.

he presses a shaky hand to his stomach, gasping for breath. he feels so full…

eventually, when jungkook's whines start to quieten, exhaustion making him sway, you begin to slow. your vision starts to clear. your jaw moves lazily against his puffy asshole and his whole body jerks, his hole clamping around your tongue. it feels more human, now.

slowly – somewhat reluctantly – you pull away, panting. his hole gapes slightly, dark and shining with saliva. you dip a clawed thumb against the edge, pulling gently, before pulling away to pat his ass. the motion is so different, so fond and strangely innocent, that it hard-reboots jungkook's half-melted brain. he blinks away the tears and the fog of lust, lifting his head from his arms.

"mmph… baby…?" he mumbles, his words slow and slurred. you tuck your nose into his warm neck, the bulk of your body heavy and comforting. your breaths are slow and steady and instinctually, he tries to match them.

he giggles, ticklish, as you nuzzle into his shoulder, a satisfied sigh fluttering past your lips. he strokes your hair, pressing his ass teasingly against your cock, still hard and heavy. "hah… you 'n' venom're gonna wear me out one day, y'know?"

his voice is wobbly, but pleased. you like it. "sweetheart, you don't have to. we can deal with it alone. you've already done so much for us."

"and let you waste your come? uh-uh. wanna feel it inside me." he wiggles his ass, making you groan. "c'mon, big boy… i'm getting soft."

"you're hard already?"

jungkook laughs at the surprise in your voice. "now that you know who i am, i don't have to hide it anymore. maybe you can even keep up with me."

lifting him up to kneel, you tug off his jacket and lay it down on the concrete. he hums and turns over to lay on his back, spreading his legs to give you room between them. he smiles sweetly up at you – your heart races.

you trace his suit's web patterns with a slight frown. "wait… so – this whole time, you've never really finished?"

"i finish. i just get hard again really quick." he blushes. "it's kinda humiliating, honestly, so i really want you to put it in before the clarity hits me like a truck. shit, was your cock always this big…?"

"you wish it was," you scoff, gripping the base and tapping the head against his hole. "you're such a size queen."

"m-mm, no, really, i seriously think it's – fuck!"

his head falls back as your cock pushes into him with minimal resistance. his walls clamp around you like a vice, drawing groans from both of you as you push in deeper, firm and steady in your pace. his hole swallows you up, and it's so damn warm and wet that you feel your control slip for a single frightening moment. jungkook moans sharply, back arching, as your claws dig into his skin hard enough to snap a normal person's bones.

jungkook's gasps are short and rapid in quick succession. he goes lax in your arms, arms limp above his head. you have him in your lap, his thighs resting atop yours.

"fuck," he hiccups after a giggle. you glance down, away from his drunken expression.

you shift your hips, drawing out, then push back in. a bulge in his stomach follows the motion. in your head, venom purrs at the sight, curling around your senses to feel what you feel like a lazy, satisfied cat.

"yeah," you whisper, experimentally setting a slow pace to really see it. you press your palm against the firmness of your cockhead. "yeah. fuck. you're so fucking hot, driving us downright crazy…"

you sound like an idiot, saying things that a high school jock would say to his cheerleader girlfriend in a teen movie. it's so shallow and repetitive that it makes you embarrassed, but jungkook's moans are extra loud after it, so it can't be all that bad.

still, you'd rather call him beautiful, if only to have him bury his face in your chest and laugh.

"fuck me," he breathes, reaching down and caressing your hands, black and clawed as they are. "fuck me hard – please, don't stop."

he gives you an addicted, lopsided grin, dark eyes blown with want. he cries out as your hips slap his ass, grinding into him. you pull out until the tip rests against his twitching hole and grin, sharper than usual. briefly, your eyes swirl white. "your wish is our command."

you drag him towards you as you thrust forward, your skin meeting with an obscene clap. through your lungs, venom groans, halfway between a growl and a catlike purr. your dick throbs inside his clenching walls, lining his insides with an audacious amount of precome… he'll have to do more than patch up his poor suit.

jungkook's eyes are squeezed shut, a hand planted firmly over his own mouth as your thrusts ravage his body. his hair bounces over his flushed cheeks, locks sticking to his temples with sweat. he seems to shimmer with it in the afternoon light, so unfairly pretty, as if he's dusted with crushed pearls…

you tug his hand away from his lips, parted with need, and your fingers twist through his own, clasping tightly. you rest your weight upon the first joint of each finger – you wouldn't want to rub the backs of his hands raw, after all. it's an easy feat with venom's claws creeping over your fingers from the knuckles like twisting vines.

"c'mon, spider," you purr, relishing the way his eyes flutter with each rough thrust. your balls slap against his ass. "don't be shy. we want to hear you BEG FOR IT."

when you slow down, really making him feel every pulse and twitch of your veins, he manages to crack his eyes open, though they flicker anxiously over the sky and glass towers surrounding you before landing on your face. he swallows, and a defiant glimmer shines in his eye. "no."

"no?" you chuckle. "gettin' cold feet? scared to make a whore out of yourself when you know we're both watching?"

"no," he repeats, a little harrumph passing past his lips. "i don't wanna work for it. you're my boyfriend – you're supposed to make me happy. are you slowing down because you want to tease me, or because you're too tired to keep up?"

a growl. "OH, YOU…"

grip tightening, you shift forward on your knees, hiking his thighs higher over yours – he gasps as your cockhead scrapes against his tender prostate on its way in. he sucks in a deep breath as you bottom out, his lashes fluttering, and the bulge in his belly moves as you do. "babe—"

"does it hurt?"

he shakes his head minutely. his bitten red lips part and he wraps his legs around your waist, digging his heels into the small of your back impatiently. "t-told you not to stop…"

you hum softly and resume a rough, steady pace, the obscene sound of wet skin slapping skin echoing far too loudly with his enhanced hearing. it's hard to ignore and he realises, suddenly, that he's still in the suit – maskless.

"h-hurry – hurry up," he whimpers, a shred of panic fluttering in his belly – or maybe that's just you. "if someone sees—"

"then they'll know how well spider-man takes cock." you smirk with a gloating glint in your eye.

"i'm being s-serious," he whines, breathless. unable to inject any sense of urgency into his words, he settles for squeezing your hands tightly, feeling and hearing the crack as venom imbeds himself into the concrete like tiny harpoons for support. you're trembling slightly – he can feel it in your legs – and he has an inkling that you're holding back more than your own urges.

"SO ARE WE," you reply as if it's obvious. you roll your hips tauntingly into his ass and his back arches, his hole clamping down around your veiny shaft. you hiss and the smirk on your face drops to make room for the irritated twitch of your brow. "fuck. don't squeeze too hard – i'll come early."

"e-early, he says! like you haven't been wringin' me of everything i have," jungkook huffs, squeaking in surprise when you let go of one of his hands to grip his waist and heft it higher, helping you to thrust deeper. your thick cockhead kisses his tender prostate, again and again and again – hot, sticky come drips down your shaft and balls and jungkook's suffocating cock throbs with a pulse of wetness when your claws dig into his skin in warning for his cheek.

you tap his hip absently, surveying your damage. "not everything."

you pause just long enough to seize his suit in both hands, and in one smooth motion, rip his suit to free his cock.

"honey—!"

with a quick swipe of your claw, his underwear falls apart and his dark, throbbing cock springs free. his underwear, looped around his thighs and waist like a jock, held the protective cup in place. you tug it out of his suit impatiently and toss it aside, much to his embarrassment, but he doesn't have long to stutter about it because your big hands close around his neck and your cock slams into him.

he wails. he lets out a bone-searing string of breathless cries and moans, tears welling up on his dark lashes as he grips your wrists and bounces with your rough primal pace. your thumb shifts over his adam's apple. you purr at the feeling of his moans, your name vibrating against your skin like a prayer and burning up your veins to settle in the base of your stomach, hot and coiled.

"SO PRETTY FOR US, SPIDER… SO TINY AND OBEDIENT. your cock is drooling – ALL FOR US," you rumble, shifting one hand to grip his shoulder instead. you cradle his head, turning it slightly to one side. you swear you can hear the blood roaring through his jugular and down, down, down to his heart, through it, and back up again, rushing rushing rushing through his arteries…

"mhm, f'you…! more – more, more," he babbles tearfully, his hard cock leaking a puddle onto his stomach. it leaks down his sides with your harsh thrusts, bouncing him off of your lap like a pretty little toy. your hips quicken, your grunts rumbling out as animal snarls as his cock smacks his stomach and yours throbs deep inside his trembling wet hole. "more! please, baby, fuck, feels so good! so fucking good, 'm gonna – yes! 'm coming—!"

you GROWL as his cock explodes onto his chest, sticky translucent come streaking his suit and dribbling down the black spider emblem. your thick cock pulses in his quivering heat and your orgasm crashes onto you in thundering waves, harder than anything you've ever felt. it feels a bit like dying: the way your thoughts melt into one another into a slosh of raw animal emotion, the blurry white-out vision, the feeling of every nerve and neuron firing at once in a desperate last hurrah that burns you up and shaves the meat off your bones for what seems like an eternity.

your eyes flutter open. the filmy white has receded.

jungkook hangs off of your cock, his hands loosely pressed against your chest. his head rests in one massive inky black palm, his back in the other. he gazes up at you with glossy, dazed eyes, something like awe glimmering in them as he pants, hot breath fanning your kiss-bitten lips.

like a dog satisfied with an under-the-table steak, venom slinks back into your skin, and jungkook shifts his quivering thighs around your hips to accommodate you better between them. he leans in and cups your cheek with a shaky hand – you don't think you'd notice it if venom wasn't boosting your senses – to kiss you gently, his soft slick lips moving against yours with lazy contentment.

you blink slowly at him, your brain still pulling itself together, and finally notice the state of him: sweat-damp hair, marked skin, bruised lips, ruined suit.

ruined suit…

"oh, shit," you croak, reaching between jungkook's legs to collect the thick white come dribbling down his thighs, still red with the imprint of your grip. it's starting to turn purple in places. "shit."

"it's okay! it's okay," he soothes, cupping your face. his voice is raspy and his chest heaves. "i can fix it. it's just a bit of thread."

"n-no, it's more than that," you whisper urgently, eyes widening as you hug jungkook to your chest. your cock shifts inside of him. it's almost tender. "i hurt you."

"i heal fast, honey, remember? tomorrow morning, i'll be right as rain. you'll see." he shifts on your lap and winces softly, inhaling sharply. "j-just – mm – pull out slowly, please. and lay me back – i can't feel my legs…"

"o-okay. okay. sorry," you mumble, being as gentle as you can. once he's comfortable, you reach down and slip yourself out little by little.

the head pops out, and a thick gush of come pools around jungkook's ass.

he groans at the feeling, his gaping asshole clenching futilely as it leaks your come like a damn waterfall. one of his hands presses against his stomach, the phantom feeling of you devastating his insides impossible to overcome. the other hand flicks lazily over his shaft a few times as he pants and regains his breath, his thighs trembling even as you try to comfort him. he's never looked so… drained before after nights together. not like he could fall asleep at any moment.

after a while of cleaning up – to the best of your ability – you find yourself sitting cross-legged by jungkook as he lays his head in your lap, halfway there to nodding off as the warm breeze musses his hair.

jungkook plays with your fingers as venom slowly stitches together shorts and a hoodie for him. black, of course. he insisted you all have to match. he's been rather quiet for a while, and when jungkook teased him about being so vocal just minutes ago, he'd huffed something about being hungry. the lack of energy was his reason for why he was threading the clothes onto jungkook's back so slowly, but you saw right through his excuses.

"how are you feeling?" you ask softly, fluttering your fingers at him.

he huffs and catches your hand without looking, glancing up at you. "honey, stop making it sound like i'm sick – i'm fine. a little achy, but nothing worse than hitting your funny bone on the edge of a door. the only thing that's taking its time is my voice. i sound like i've just gone to a club – nightclub, i mean – and had an hour-long conversation."

you chuckle, watching as venom finally finishes the sleeve he'd been working on for the last few minutes. after a moment, the surface of the hoodie ripples like water, and a white spider symbol, sharp and long, blooms from the centre of his chest. it settles back into simple cotton and polyester.

you touch the mark, tracing its edges. "i think it's a nice design. maybe you should try a new suit for the next one, since this one's pretty messed up."

"and whose fault is that?' he snarks, sliding his palm beneath yours and shaking it slightly. he glances down and nibbles on his lower lip. "it's nice, i admit… but it might be dangerous. i could remember i'm wearing it and get distracted, and then i'll smack into a crane or something."

"spider-man gets distracted?"

"only for big boys with big you-knows," he whispers, blushing and giggling to himself. he props himself up and reclines in your arms, humming contently and sighing as your arms wrap securely around him, heavy and warm. "i'm kidding. not really, but i'm kidding. i'd love you even if you took over the world and made us all subjects to your dark dominion. please don't, though, because i'd be morally obligated to stand up for the little guy and i don't wanna hurt you, y'know?"

you nod with a smile, brushing your thumb over his lower lip. he purses his lips against it for a little kiss. "i promise i won't go crazy and become a supervillain."

he falls quiet for a while, settling his head back into your lap. he closes his eyes, dark lashes brushing his cheeks, and brings your hand up to rest on his chest. his heartbeat is slow but sure, and you can feel your muscles relaxing just by the sight of his serene expression.

he doesn't hate you. he doesn't hate you.

he won't leave you alone. not ever – you understand this now. in this world of gods and aliens, you couldn't be happier with anyone else by your side – you are just mortal, just human. so very human. even if a planet-eating god sticks their fingers into the threads of the multiverse, melting existence as you know it, at least you'll be able to look into his eyes and know that at the very least, you were loved – and that is worth more than anything.