#like she is not the type to show up with a black dress and a tail and nothing else and be like haha im a cat see
halloween time!!!!! im late looking at these and boy are they hard to see so i took some liberties for the aesthetic….catgirl ibuki is real <3
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[image ID: fanart of characters from tbe Magnus archives as superheroes, styled like a comic cover. Characters separated into two rows, bottom row left to right shows Melanie, Jon and Tim. Notable details include Melanie having red eyes with effects around them and a military inspired costume, Jon having a long hooded cloaked styled like moth wings and a full-face mask, plus effects on his hands, and Tim having an axe on his back and a logo depicting a clown with an X over it. Second row shows Basira, Martin and Annabelle. Basira wears a brown hat and coat, Martin is coloured in blue tones, and Annabelle wears a cloak and has a blue/purple helmet with six eyes. Each has their hero name written next to them. Text from top to bottom reads: "find out the secret origins of...The Magnus Archives. Behold tales of mystery and terror! Featuring: Basira Hussein, Weaver (Annabelle), The Forsaken Man (Martin), War Ghost (Melanie) Archive (Jon) and Stranger Slayer (Tim)...and Sasha!". Bottom right has a cutout showing Sasha with headphones on. End ID]
I'd like to formally introduce you to my most self indulgent au, in which I give the tma characters silly costumes and even sillier names. Lore/doodles under the cut (click for quality)
[image ID: page of doodles for the tma/superhero au. First two doodles show Jon, with and without his mask. It's labeled "pros of Spidey mask: pretty boy face reveal". It's accompanied by martin blushing. Below it is two drawings of Melanie. They're the same except in the first, melanie's hair is black. There are two speech bubbles from an unseen person. First one reads "YouTuber Melanie King dresses as war ghost?". Second reads "SUPERHERO WAR GHOST?!". Below that is a drawing of Annabelle's full costume (notable details: tall boots and full sleeve, the helmet only covers half of her face). Below that is text labeled "lore". Transcript follows: - Gertrude was the first archive, and when she died, Jon got her powers/mantle passed on (not really by choice on either Jon or Gertrude's side) making him a legacy hero. Annabelle's a sympathetic anti hero type, and Elias is also there and evil
- Tim became a hero to avenge Danny, with Nikola having killed him like in canon. Idk she runs an evil circus full of shape shifting clowns Sasha WAS going to take up Gertrude's mantel as archive but after being traumatized by the not-them she decided to become the Guy In The Chair for Tim instead
- Melanie was still a YouTuber/paranormal investigator, but in this universe the whole "shot by a ghost thing" happened in England and gave her superpowers! She lost her sight in the same incident. Georgie is kind of her Lois Lane/Jimmy Olsen (significant supportive character)
- the branch of the Lukas family that was into the science part of terror (i.e the ones that contributed to the Daedalus in canon) in this au ran experiments that martin got wrapped up in. Now he's got some of his canon lonely powers (being where Other People Aren't, for example) plus minor telepathy (compelling/ making ppl forget). Home-made his costume! End ID]
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the REAL scary part of this episode
I know we’re all excited about Luka secretly knowing the truth, and how hilarious CrocoJagged was, but this episode dropped a much, much more subtle bomb that scared me more than anything. I’ve already seen people talking about it so some of this will be repeated, but allow me to lay some puzzle pieces out on the table.
This. This drawing. What. The. Heck. Is. This. Adrien’s blue eyed mother and green eyed, brown haired, smiling father? Something is super fishy.
I saw someone mention Adrien’s line in Simon Says, “you’ve got her eyes”. I’m aware that this line is very different in different dubs, but in English, he tells Ladybug that her eyes remind him of his mother. Ladybug’s blue eyes. We were all so confused by why he would say this, but I think we finally got our answer. It was just a subconscious slip of the tongue on his part, and he didn’t even realize anything was wrong, but oh boy could it mean everything.
After seeing all this is I was shaken and I started re-evaluating everything we know about Adrien’s family. First up: when have we actually seen Emilie in the show?
And here I noticed something that looks like it could be very clever trickery. We can probably safely say that she did indeed star in Solitude as the opening credits of the film suggest. But. Everything related to this movie is in black and white. Interesting. When else do we see Emilie? In a coffin. With her eyes closed.
And here, in Andre’s repressed dreams box? We’d assume that that’s the same person, but notice the black blazer.
Just the type Amelie Graham de Vanily wears. Who has green eyes. And looks identical to her deceased sister. And even has an oddly similar name. And just so happens to be conniving, scheming about something that we don’t know about yet aside from it being related to the twin rings. Let’s pull up some pictures of Emilie from around the Agreste household.
All green-eyed and white blazer-ed. This is the woman who Gabriel looks up at obsessively, who holds Adrien’s hand and makes him smile... but who is she?
Here are some statements I believe to be true:
There is a blue eyed woman and a green eyed woman
There is a white blazer woman and a black blazer woman
The blue eyed woman is Adrien’s mother
The green eyed woman served as a mother figure to Adrien and a partner to Gabriel
There is a green eyed, black blazer wearing woman alive and scheming against Gabriel
We don’t know the eye color of the dead woman, but her blazer is white
Let me also bring to attention Amelie’s son, Felix, who looks exactly like Adrien, and Felix’s recently deceased father, who is a mystery.
I don’t have any solid theories as to what this suspiciousness all adds up to, but here are some ideas:
Emilie and Amelie have such similar names because sometimes, when we think someone is saying the name of one, they’re actually referring to the other and hiding it in plain sight
The woman in the opening scene of Solitude is Amelie, not Emilie, the main star
The woman in the coffin has blue eyes, thus is Adrien’s true mother
Kinda crack-y: The five-petaled brooch on the white blazer is a disguised miraculous. All charged miraculous have five separate sections, and the butterfly and peacock, both in the possession of the Agrestes, are brooches. We know Gabriel sells a copy of this design in his store since it became Vanisher’s akuma object, and the only other jewelry design we’ve seen from him has been a copy of the fox miraculous.
Cont. I’m not sure if we’ve ever seen the peacock miraculous actually disguised on Gabe, but it’s possible that either the jewel in the cabinet is his disguise mode and the flower is the green eyed woman’s, OR that’s her disguised peacock miraculous and the one she’s wearing in the photo is her disguised butterfly.
The blue eyed woman used to wear a black blazer, and the green eyed woman used to wear a white blazer, but after the blue eyed woman’s death, she was dressed in the other’s clothing and the green eyed woman donned her clothes and replaced her
The deceased man Felix calls his father is the green-eyed man Adrien remembered in his wish
I know how much you guys love hearing sentimonster theories, but the show is clearly foreshadowing something here, that’s undeniable. The peacock miraculous has been in the family for what, fifteen years? At some point it was used until it broke, and supposedly that’s what killed the woman in the coffin. What do we have here? Two boys with different parents who look exactly the same, two women who look exactly the same save for one trait, twin rings shrouded in mystery that the GdV family really wants back for some reason, a devoted bodyguard who never speaks, an even more devoted secretary who’s been around forever and whose last name means “without a heart”, a blue eyed man obsessed with serving and protecting a woman to the point of madness, and last but not least, the fifteen-ish y/o boy who doesn’t remember his childhood and feels like he was literally made to be his parents’ image of perfection.
It could even be more than one of them. You know that whole thing about how kids can only use the special power once, but adults don’t have that limit? Maybe making one true human using the miraculous is enough to break it, but maybe it’s not. Maybe you need to really exert it to hit that barrier.
This is all just me spitballing, so I’d love to hear other people’s ideas, but there is, without a doubt, something mad suspicious going on with these people. Keep in mind that I also don’t remember every line of dialogue from the show. There could be stuff disproving me, or stuff that was cleverly said in a vague way on purpose to hide the truth. Otherwise, I hope the episode Gabriel Agreste could shine some light on our missing puzzle pieces such as the rings, the movie Solitude, the mysterious Tsurugi family, and even the Bourgeois.
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(Not my Gif.)
Summary: Zemo gives you what he thinks you deserve. *Some TFATWS Ep. 3 Spoilers.*
Pairing: Zemo x Reader (Female)
Warnings: Smut for days baby. Dirty Talking, Possession, marking, Soft!Dom Zemo. 18+ Only.
Word Count: 4.2K
A/N: Look we all know we're walking dangerous territory, simping for a war criminal. But Sugar Daddy Zemo got me feeling some type of way and also, Daniel Brüle is hot asf. Also, I don't actually know german so pls if it's off just blame google translate, I just have an insatiable language kink and I needed the pet names more than air itself. I thought about making this a chaptered fic, but I barely had the time to write this, never mind chapters of it before he likely fucks over Sam and Bucky next episode. Anyways, enjoy!
Here’s the thing.
You knew he was dangerous. You knew his past, the EKO Scorpion kill squad and everything with the Avengers, manipulating them and breaking them up from the inside. He was smart, unpredictable. You knew there was a very real potential that you could be hurt - or worse - if you went down the road.
And maybe, in a past life that would’ve been enough to stop you. But you weren’t who you used to be. You liked playing with fire now, inviting danger and chaos rather than straying from it. You had lived in - hid in, was more accurate - Madripoor for a handful of years now. You laid low, kept yourself under the radar of the Power Broker and those who worked for him. This way, no one bothered you and you could live fragments of a normal life, Trading and bartering to make a living. But living this way, like forgotten trash on a sidewalk, got old.
Maybe that’s why when you caught his attention, you didn’t shy away from it.
It had happened so fast. You were dancing, just intoxicated enough that the rubbing of strangers' bodies against yours was not just welcomed, but encouraged. So encouraged that when a new body, tall and firm behind you, took the place of another, you didn’t hesitate to back up into the warmth. His hands gripped your hips tightly, not stopping or guiding you, just resting. Turning your head slightly to see what your new dance partner looked like, you startled a little seeing the Baron.
Helmut chuckled, a low sound you felt rather than heard, and ducked his head down to speak into your ear, “You know who I am.”
You let your body relax back into his, feeling reckless enough to bless the menacing man with your flirtations, your head falling back onto his, “I’ve heard a thing or two.”
“And yet you trust me to hold you like this,” his hands flex on your hips, just hard enough to show the strength they hold, “Like a lover.”
You grab one of his hands, leading it down to your upper thigh where your knife holster sits, never once letting his hand leave your body.
“If I didn’t want you touching me, you’d know it, Baron.”
The gust of breath you felt against the side of your neck and the large hand gripping your thigh had shivers rolling pleasantly down your spine.
“You are far too beautiful to reside in these undergrounds,” he spun you around in his grasp, allowing you to get a good look at his face, “A woman like yourself should be treated with the most expensive riches, the finest wines. She should drain a man of his earnings.”
You laughed, not expecting the words that came from his mouth nor how handsome he was, even this close, “Point me to the man who’s willing.”
He smirked at you, but there was a smugness to it. A glimmer in his eye that suggested he had the riches and the desire to give you anything you wanted. You felt like you were drowning in his gaze, lost as you were under the heat of it. He looked somewhere behind you, pulling his eyes from you to nod once at whatever, or whoever, had stolen his attention from you. When they returned to you, the heat and desire were replaced with determination.
“It is with great regret that I must leave you, for now,” He captured your hand, bringing it up to his lips, the softness of them brushing lightly against your knuckles, “I can get you out of Madripoor, give you a life you deserve. If you meet me tomorrow morning, the airstrip.”
The world felt like it froze around you. The rational part of your brain was screaming at you. You couldn’t trust him. You Shouldn’t trust him. But as you stared into his eyes you saw nothing but honesty.
“And if I don’t?” You ask, just to buy yourself some time.
His hand travels up your arm, taking your chin between his thumb and pointer finger securely, “I will not pressure you. I’d leave you be, but the ghost of you would haunt me, schatzi.”
And with that, he was gone. Leaving you with nothing more than your thoughts, mentally preparing how quickly you could pack your things and leaving Madripoor behind. After all, you’ve always loved taking risks.
The next few weeks were a blur. Zemo was laying low, but his form of laying low was still luxury to you. It was private jets and upscale accommodations, not to mention that he was a man of his word. He spoiled you. Within three days of being in his presence, you had acquired a whole new wardrobe. Your suitcases - also new - were filled to the brim with the fanciest and latest fashion. You had rare jewels on nearly every piece of jewelry you owned. Maybe spoiled was an understatement. You’ve only dreamed of owning riches like these.
He had picked something particular for you to wear tonight, both of you making an appearance at some sort of party with some higher-ups. It was all laid out on the king-sized bed, a little black dress of sorts. It was short and sheer in its long sleeves, the sparkles in the fabric ensured that you would shimmer under any lighting. With a simple clutch, matching jewelry and a cropped, white fur jacket to keep you warm until you got to your destination. You looked good. You felt good.
He looked just as good. Sporting an outfit similar to the one you had met him in, instead choosing a dark red turtleneck to create a stunning relation between both your outfits. Nothing had happened between the two of you yet. Aside from lingering glances and innocent touches, he had been a gentleman. The chemistry was there, for sure. You were able to joke and talk with the man, matching his wit and charm every step of the way. And he loved it.
“Best behaviour tonight, schatzi.” He had said, low in your ear as you walked towards the venue.
You had smiled back at him, the perfect picture of innocence, “Always, Baron.”
And at the time, you had fully meant it. But you found yourself craving him. He looked too good, it honestly wasn’t fair. The way that ridiculous fur jacket draped over his shoulders, fostering a powerful ambience. And you knew he was faring no better himself if by the way his eyes were glued to your curves was anything to go by.
So, you decided, maybe you shouldn’t be on your best behaviour tonight. It’s not like you were making a scene or anything that would call too much attention. You were simply letting the alcohol take over your body. Whether that meant a hand on his thigh as you listened to the conversations around you, your fingers playing with the short hairs at the back of his neck or dancing a little too scandalously when you knew he was watching. You felt confident. And when you felt confident, you felt dangerous.
By the end of the night, you were teasing yourself just as much as you were him. You were pushing your luck, hands trailing a little too close to the bulge in his slacks, enjoying the way his facial features changed briefly in shock before settling back into that infuriating unmovable stoic impression. The last straw was you bending in front of him, having ‘dropped’ something from your purse. You only had to bend so much before the dress, as short as it was, had ridden up just enough for him to catch a glimpse of your panties.
In an instant, he had you standing upright, thanking whoever he had been talking to for a wonderful night, tugging your dress back down to a respectable length and steering you towards the door by the back of your neck.
“That was not best behaviour,” he growled into your ear.
You giggled, despite the tight grip on your neck, “I was just having fun.”
He had done nothing but stare at you, eyes hard with a warning that had you rethinking your actions. You had forgotten, for a moment, that this man was not just someone to give you all the pretty trinkets you wore. He was a mastermind, a criminal mastermind at that. A man most deemed dangerous enough to be locked away.
“You have been bad tonight, kleine Schlampe.” He said once he had gotten you back to his car, away from the prying eyes and ears of the party guests, “You will spend the trip back thinking of ways to make it up to me.”
The words sent heat through your core, and you did exactly as he said.
By the time he had gotten you up to your accommodations, you had thought of thousands of different scenarios that could earn you forgiveness for your recklessness. You were uncertain if his words earlier had implied sexual favours, or if a simple, genuine apology was all he was looking for. However, once he had turned to you, the room door closing behind him and his eyebrows raised expectantly, you fell to your knees in front of him like it was second nature.
He chuckles darkly at you as he peels his gloves off, tossing them gently onto a side table nearby before letting one hand brush away the hair that had fallen in your face.
“Seems you are meine kleine schlampe indeed,” You had no idea what it meant, but fuck it sounded good coming from him. His eyes were hard and dark as he stared down at you, “If this is the path you’ve chosen to apologize, so be it. But not here, you are meine schlampe not a common whore. Get up. Go to the bedroom.”
You did as he said, quickly pulling yourself up to a standing position and walking to the designated room. The bed, so far, had only been used by you. He hadn’t wanted to push or pressure you into sharing a space with him. He understood that just because you decided to join him, didn’t mean you wanted to be with him. But tonight, you had decided, you wanted to give him your everything. You wanted to show him how grateful you were for all the gifts he’d given you so far. And if you couldn’t give him luxuries, you would give him your desire.
“So,” he began, nodding in approval at the way you resume your position on the floor in front of him, “Let’s begin with the basics.” As he talked, he rolled up his sleeves, doing so with precision, “Tell me, what exactly are you apologizing for?”
He commands every drop of your attention. There’s an aura to him that you had only previously caught a glimpse of. His eyes dark and locked onto yours, never once wavering. Waiting. Calculating.
“For teasing you.”
You take a breath, shame flooding your core at the answer that sits on your tongue.
“For embarrassing you.”
There’s a pause. He cocks his head, gaze softening just a tad. He's quiet for several moments, analyzing your words. Your heart starts to beat a little faster at the extended silence, thinking you’ve done something wrong and you can’t keep up the eye contact. You duck your head, averting your gaze to his feet.
“Look at me, schatzi.” His voice is soft, but still with enough edge to make you listen.
Only once your eyes meet his again does he continue.
“That’s very sweet of you, to be concerned about my image. But make no mistake,” He steps closer to you, letting one hand cup your jaw, tilting it upwards. His thumb brushes against your bottom lip, “You could never embarrass me,”
You dip your head, nipping softly at his thumb. He smiles softly at you, something glimmering in his eye, “I simply just don’t like to share what’s mine.”
Your breath leaves your body at his words and suddenly the need for him to claim you had you nearly vibrating in your skin. You watch, every muscle in your body clenched tightly, as he walks slowly over to the armchair in the corner, never once taking his eyes off you. He sits, legs parted, one arm draped off the side, the other rested so he could prop his head up.
Instantly, you make your way over to him. Once in front of him, you stand up on your knees, placing your hands on his knees and slowly sliding them up his thighs. They continue its upward motion, skimming lighting over the hardness in his pants and reaching to start on his belt. You make quick work of his belt and buttons, eagerly working his pants and briefs down. He chuckles above you.
“Mein Schatz, so eager to apologize.” He purrs, almost mockingly, hand coming down to brush the fallen hair away from your face.
Once you had him free, you took a second to admire him. Your legs clenched at the size of him. Not terribly big, but big enough to anticipate the stretch, the fullness. Your eyes flicked back up, looking up at his through your lashes, leaning in but stopping just before you could actually get your mouth on him. The hand that was previously fixing your hair was now clenched in it, messing it up again and forcing your head back suddenly to look at him properly.
“It would not be wise to tease me more than you have,” he warned.
A smirk spread across your features and you quickly realized how much you liked him like this.
However, you knew you were on thin ice already. With that in mind, as soon as his grip loosened you licked a wide stripe up his length, swirling your tongue around the tip before taking him fully into your mouth. The tension his body held melted the second your tongue touched him. His mouth dropping on a soft groan. His hand stroked your hair as you sucked, encouraging the bobs of your head, not forcing but guiding. You keep your eyes trained on his face, not wanting to miss a second of experiencing him like this.
He glows in the low lamplight of the room, the shadows playing across his features delicately. You like him like this too. Reduced to a heap of gasps and moans beneath the heat of your mouth. As you suck, your hands wander, up under the fabric of his shirt, nails dragging down his sides. He hisses at the pain, but doesn’t tell you to stop.
After a few minutes of your slow torture, he decides he’s had enough. His hand tightens in your hair, his movements becoming less gentle and more demanding.
“That’s a good girl, take it all for me.”
You do as he asks, taking a breath before taking him as deep as you can. He groans at the feeling, hips shifting a few times to test you before beginning to thrust in and out of your mouth. Your jaw aches, but his eyes are on you and his thumb is tracing your bottom lip that’s stretched wide around his cock and you think for a second that you could spend eternity like this.
It’s not much longer before he pulls you off his cock, hand wrapping around his base tightly, “Apologies, schatzi. I am out of practice, and I fear I'm not quite finished with you yet.”
You laugh softly, voice rough due to your previous activity, “That’s okay, I don’t mind.” You insist, more than happy to let him finish like this. Whatever he wants.
He stops you before you can dip down again, standing up and taking you with him. For the first time, his lips are on yours. He overwhelms all your senses. His breath loud in your ears, his hands on your waist, his scent. His tongue slides against yours as he walks you forward, shedding his lower clothing as he goes. He only parts to give you an order.
As you do, he finishes undressing and it kills you that can’t see him. Just as quickly as the thought crosses your mind, it’s gone as you feel his hands at the top of your dress. He slides the zipper down, letting the fabric fall off your shoulders. You take the liberty of helping the sleeves the rest of the way down, the fabric falling down around your heels once you’ve done so. He hums behind you.
“Such beauty,” he whispers against your shoulder. His hands begin to wander, around your waist, up underneath the fabric of your bra, down to your thighs and ass. He chuckles, dragging your panties down enough that they too fall, forgotten at your feet, “I can hardly stay mad at you, liebling.”
Your head falls back onto his shoulders as he works your bra off next. You shiver, feeling bare and exposed before him. You want him more than you can express and you let your whole body fall back into his embrace, whimpering at the feeling of him, hard against the swell of your ass.
“Helmut,” you moan, one of your hands finding purchase in his hair as the other rests on one of his forearms.
“Tell me you’re mine, Schatzi. And I’ll give you anything you want.”
“I’m yours,” you say without hesitation, breathless as his hand dips between your legs, finding your clit. He hums, pleased at the arousal he finds there, “I’m yours. Only yours.”
He growls pulling his hand away from, “Lay back on the bed. I’ll be right back.”
You do as he says, positioning yourself in the middle of the bed. While you wait, you let your mind wander, listening to his rummaging somewhere in another room while your mind runs through everything you want him to do to you. At some point, your eyes must close because when you feel the bed dip, they open to see him crawling between your legs.
He’s done messing around, wasting no time before his face is buried between your thighs, hands maneuvering your legs so that they’re thrown over his shoulders, your heels crossing sweetly behind his head, no doubt scratching at his shoulders. Your breath leaves your body at the feeling of his tongue, warm and wet and fan-fucking-tastic. He alternates between dipping it in and out of your heat and flicking it against your clit. Your hand finds his hair, gripping it between your fingers and guiding his movements ever so slightly. His eyes don’t leave yours, spare for the few times he closes them to moan against you.
One of his hands move, leaving its place at your hip to sink two fingers into you. Your head falls back on a moan, back arching up when he crooks his fingers and finds your g-spot.
“Fuck,” you gasp, one hand gripping the pillow behind your head as you feel your orgasm rush towards you, “Fuck- Wait, I-”
You can’t even feel embarrassed about how easily your body has reacted to him. Before you can warn him much more, you're falling over the edge. Your thighs tensing around his head, back arching in pleasure as you ride out your high. In this moment you belong completely to him, unable to think of anything else.
“So sweet for me, liebling.” He comments, hands rubbing up and down your calves as you come down, taking a moment to unfasten your heels, letting the shoes drop to the floor before leaning back in. His lips brush against your inner thigh.
Then a bite.
“Such pretty sounds you make for me.”
And then he’s sucking harshly at the skin there, watching the shudder that rips through your sensitive body at the sensation. He doesn’t pull away until the mark is dark and flush against your skin. He continues this on the other thigh, on your ribs, your breasts and finally your neck, marking you thoroughly.
“Mine.” He growls, hot against your ear, “Mein schatz, will you let me have you?” he asks, and it’s literally all you can think about so you don’t even bother hiding the truth, the confession tumbling from your lips breathlessly.
“I’d let you do anything to me.”
He groans, capturing your lips in a deep kiss as he does so. He pulls away to grab the condom that he had put next to him on the bed and leaning back on his haunches to roll it on. You’re so impatient, nails digging into his thighs and arms, whining as you watch his hands work.
“So needy,” He comments, swallowing your moan as he finally, finally, sinks into you.
The stretch as he enters you has your head rolling back on a moan, your legs wrapping around his waist the bring him the rest of the way in. He buries his head in the crook of your neck, growling against the skin there.
“Fuck,” he groans through gritted teeth, his resolve quickly slipping at the feeling of you around his cock. And to his credit, he really tries to wait, to be good. But not seconds later he’s adjusting his grip on your hips and he’s thrusting into you with a force that makes the whole bed shake.
It’s barely been 30 seconds, but the build-up that had occurred throughout the entirety of the night had you right back on the edge, your nails clawing at his shoulders, his back, his thighs. Any purchase you could get on him, you were begging for more. You’d take anything he gave you without so much as batting an eyelash. His grip on your hips is tight and bruising, but the pain twists into a delicious pleasure that only spurs you on.
You must be speaking, babbling something back to him about how good it feels, how much you love being fucked by him because he’s laughing through a moan against your neck. He pauses for just a second, straightening up and throwing one of your legs over his shoulder before continuing to fuck you.
“That’s it Kätzchen.” He purrs, eyes moving down your body to where he enters your body, “Taking my cock so well.”
You mewl at the praise, your body arching in response to his words. Your second orgasm takes you both by surprise, having hit you like a fucking freight train when he thrusts particularly deep, hitting one of your sweet spots. You scramble for purchase on him, mouth dropped open in a near-pornographic moan that you’ll surely be embarrassed about later. But for now, all you know is pleasure.
His hips falter, stuttering as your walls tighten around him. His head falls back on a low moan, fucking you hard and slow through your release.
“Such a sweet cunt,” he gasps, “Mein Gott..”
And then he’s tangling your hands together, holding it high above your head as he pushes your thighs back, flush against your chest. He’s the one babbling now, words from God only knows what language, whispered against your skin as he chases his own release. He gives one last hard thrust and he’s done, his teeth dragging against the skin on your shoulder, moaning against you as he rides out his orgasm.
As you both come down, you stroke the back of his neck, playing with the hairs there, trying to catch your breath. After a few moments, he pulls away just enough to kiss you. There’s a lingering heat and it’s a little messy due to your shared exhaustion but it’s good.
Once you’ve both caught your breath, he removes himself from your body, taking the necessary time to deal with the condom. You watch him lazily, unable to do much other than that. You’re so tired. But there’s that ache between your legs that you love so much and you think briefly that you could go another round, if he wanted to.
He must see something in your eyes when he returns because he laughs softly, “I feel I may have my hands full with you, schatzi.” he says as he crawls back into the bed with you, covering the both of you with a blanket, the cold now biting at your skin. You know you have to get up soon enough to sort yourself out before bed, but for a moment you stay with him.
His fingers brush over your face softly, following the slope of your nose and the angle of your cheeks. There’s no real purpose to his movements, just... touching. As if convincing himself that you’re real.
“You are special, schatzi.” he says softly, “I don’t know what your plans are, but I can only hope that you choose to continue to bless me with your presence.”
This man is such an enigma to you. He carries such confidence in every aspect of his life and yet he still doubts your loyalties. There’s anxiety and pain hidden within him, you can see it in his eyes as he continues to look at you. You wonder, how much of his past weighs on his shoulders. How long before he deems himself worthy of your affection? You lean in to kiss him softly, your lips dragging slowly against him. When you pull away you keep him close, brushing your noses together.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
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!no spoilers but this would take place during tfatws episodes 2 and 3!!
warnings: lots of cursing, mentions of hydra (yes that's a warning lol), mentions of alcohol
summary: Bucky knew Zemo would have a lead, but knowing Zemo he would need to bring you with him. And after years of putting off this reunion he was desperate to have you by his side.
authors note: thank you so much for all the love on Eye Candy! I wanted to give you all another sarcastic Bucky fic and I hope you all love this one as well. lots of love babes <3
“Before we go to see Zemo we need to get her.” Bucky said to Sam as they walked away from the imposter of Captain America.
“Yeah good luck with that one. She’s as stubborn as you and finding out you're getting her back just for Zemo--well you know what I wanna see how this turns out.” Sam said patting the back of Bucky laughing at his idea.
“He won’t talk to us. He’ll talk to her.” He said reassuringly. To even get a lead to this super soldier scheme, he knew Zemo would know something--or at least know where to start. But Zemo had an obsession with Hydra, and bringing the prized possessions of Hydra to him will Bucky and Sam out.
✰ ✰ ✰
Bucky had found your location rather quickly. He knew you would be in Italy. You both had talked about running to Italy together during your days at Hydra. So when you broke out, he knew you would always be there.
You were there waiting for him and that broke him even more.
Walking into the apartment with Sam he saw how much it resembles you as a person. There was a vase filled with fresh flowers, some clean spots and some spots where your clothes littered the floors. You had all your favorite food scattered along the counters and in the fridge you had plums. Smiling at the small gesture in your apartment that was directed towards him.
“So where is princess Hydra?” Sam asked as he walked around. Sitting on the couch that you had.
“Well it’s ten pm on a friday night. She’s out clubbing.” Bucky said as he walked into your bedroom. Your bed was made and had no indents, as if it’s never been slept on. But on the floor there was a pillow.
“I like her a lot. More than you. Girl knows how to live her life after being an experiment for Hydra.” Sam said.
“Yeah she knows how to live life.” Bucky said smiling to himself as he saw your heels gone from your shoe pile.
“So what are doing here, are we going clubbing?” Sam said standing up walking over to Bucky.
“Yeah put these on. Find her and I’ll do the rest.” Buky handed an ear piece to Sam and they both walked out leaving your apartment. Bucky taking one last look at what could've been his.
✰ ✰ ✰
The club was packed. Filled with young adults from all over the world. It was a speakeasy type club where only the in-people were allowed in. So when Bucky and Sam walked in they knew that they stood out. Wanting to blend in--both of them split up and walked around the club looking for the Hydra princess.
Bucky walked over to the bar, ordering whatever the bartender handed him. Sipping on it lightly, he saw Sam upstairs talking to some girl--completely lost within her trance. He knew he was on his own trying to find you. Looking over towards the dance floor and un-fucking believable to him—you’re dancing. Bucky didn’t know what he was expecting. You were an experiment like him, but you two had come out of Hydra completely different. Your hands were all over you, enhancing the curves you owned. Fuck you were making this hard for him. In two ways. The dress you're wearing is just making it worse for the 106 year old to get up and walk over. Adjusting his position, he tried to gain composure and some confidence before walking over to you.
“Dude what happened to your game? Leave it in the 40’s? Sam said over the ear piece laughing. Bucky didn’t even answer just finishing off the drink that had no effect on him.
Standing up he made his way towards the dance floor. Moving towards your body that was completely lost within the beat of the music. Moving his hands around your waist and swaying with your body--he was trying to blend in but also get close enough to you. But when your hands moved to feel his. You automatically knew it was him. One hand cold as metal and another warm as blood. Quickly you turned around to be met with the face you once planned to love forever. But he was rescued, not you, and you wanted to have fun with this.
“Enjoy the show Soldier?” You asked him as your arms felt him everywhere.
“We need to talk.” He said moving closer to your ear.
“About what? About how you left Hydra without me. Not even bothering to check in to see if they killed me. How you got to be back with your best friend Steve Rodgers. And when I blipped I knew you had something to do with it. Is that a new arm?” You asked him noticing the once metal that was Hydra’s was now a sleek black and gold color.
“Look you help me out, I’ll help you out.” He said tightening a grip on your bicep. He was desperate to have you back. Not only for this mission but to also have you back in his life. Back at Hydra you were there for him after evry torturing memory wipe, and everything else. You sat in your cell talking to him about how he was an American soldier, and who he once was before being a chess piece for Hydra.
“That’s not how it works anymore.” You moved closer to him placing a kiss along his jawline and watching him smallow and his breathing become erratic. Laughing to yourself slightly you leaned up to his ear.
“You’re not here for me. I know about the earpiece, you in my apartment, and how this is all a setup for you to get my help.” Placing a kiss on his neck you pulled the earpiece out and handed it to him.
“You’re gonna have to try a lot harder than that to get me in on whatever bullshit you're planning with birdwing up there.” And with that you saw his face being displayed with shock, turning away you walked out of the club. You heard your name being shouted at by him as you entered the car. Looking over you saw him being desperate and you wanted him to feel that. That desperate feeling of wanting the other person. Feeling helpless when they let you down, after promising to be by your side forever.
✰ ✰ ✰
The car had dropped you off in front of your apartment complex. Tipping them, you got up to the staircase before you heard him.
“Y/N! Please wait!” He was running. He ran from the club to your apartment complex. You laughed at his determination.
“I fucked up ok I get it I fucked up but I couldn’t go back as soon as I got out. They would find me and lock me up again. I wanted to have a chance at getting you out. Fuck when I found out that you got out I was thrilled, but you got an apartment here where you wanted. I thought that if I showed up one day you would just shut the door in my face. But I know I fucked up. I should've been here as soon as you got an apartment. When I saw that you had plums, it broke me in a way Hydra could never do. You sleep alone on the floor, fuck I do to across the world in New York. But we have a chance to stop Hydra again if they're behind this super soldier stunt. But Zemo loved you as much as he loved me and as fucked as that sounds I need you by my side when I go in. He won’t cooperate if we were not there I fucked up and I need you and if you never wanna see me again after this. Ok I’ll do whatever you want.”
You decided to cut him off from talking.
“I want you to shut up.” You said sternly. Bucky looked at the ground thinking you weren’t in on this and this was a waste of time--but he had held onto hope a little longer.
“You’re late.” You said walking down the staircase towards him.
“Yeah well you were extremely early.” He said, humoring himself.
“If Zemo tries any stunts we ruin him. But you don’t ruin this again. Don’t ruin us.”
“We are already ruined.” Was the last thing he said before he captured you within his arms and pulled you towards him. Breathing cut off for both of you, your kiss was rapid and desperate. It held so much pain and desperation for the other. Years of watching the other be tortured by Hydra and not being able to say ‘It’ll be ok’. But now here you both were, entranced by each other’s presence. As if you couldn’t deepen the kiss even more Bucky moved his hand to your waist to move your whole body closer to him. You pulled away placing your hands on his chest. Completely panting and out of breath. Grabbing his arm you walked up to the staircase with him.
“Tomorrow we’ll go.” You said opening the gate. But as soon as the gate closed Bucky engulfed you in another kiss. Laughing as he pulled away.
“Eager?” You asked him.
“You have no idea.” He said before grabbing your hand and leading you towards your apartment. And in that moment it was like Hydra didn’t exist, and you and Bucky were two normal people who were extremely in love with one another. With him now with you, there was no challenge you two couldn’t defeat. After all, you were Hydra’s princess and prince. And as twisted as it seems, you thanked Hydra for letting you and Bucky train together because this love story started as two experiments who were gonna be used as war weapons.
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I’m The Lucky One
Summary: You help Bucky with some Saturday morning work and get a surprise of a lifetime.
Pairing: BeefyBiker Bucky x Reader
Warnings: Fluff, Beefy Biker Bucky being sweet.
A/N: Requested. Unbetad, let me know if you catch any mistakes! Wrote something fluffy to get out of my slump.
Do not copy, rewrite, translate or post my work anywhere. No permission given to copy, translate, rewrite or post any parts of my stories. 𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 (𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵)
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Bucky is insatiable for you, his desire and never-ending craving for you is extended beyond physical attraction. He loves your mind, your heart, the little things that make you so uniquely you. There are so many reasons he loves you, why he will always love you and why he would do anything you wanted him to do.
Your voice is without a doubt his favorite sound. He could listen to you talk about anything.
He loves to hear you say good morning to him each day, when you’re still groggy and holding to the last moments of rest. He can’t describe how much he lives for you to smile at him right before you get up, sweet and spontaneous, just for him.
Or when you say I love you, oh gorgeous, he can’t get enough of that. When you first said those three little words to him, he almost passed out.
And he wasn’t ashamed to admit that to you, proud to tell you that you made him feel dizzy, off-balance, his body melting under your sweet gaze his stomach twisting into knots, an indescribable feeling of relief because you loved him back.
You changed his world; you are his world now.
Bucky has told you time and time again that he’s obsessed with you, his fundamental purpose in life is to make you happy. The fact that you’re happy with him, that you want to be with him, is something he will never take for granted.
He wants to keep you all for himself and show you off at the same time. It’s hard to do both now that you won’t let him rail you on the front lawn anymore. You go to jail one time and suddenly it’s “not here Bucky, put it away, we're in public Bucky, our friends are sitting right beside us Bucky, this is a family restaurant Bucky.”
While he would have rather spent Saturday morning in bed with you, it was his weekend to set up the bar and check inventory before it opened this evening. Bucky was ecstatic that you decided to join him today. His only condition was that you wear his black henley with those shorts that he bought you, the ones with the deep back pockets, that lets his whole hand slide right in.
While fastening your helmet, he not so casually remarked, “Gorgeous, you know if your hand happens to slip down while we’re riding-oof” he cuts off when you elbow him in the stomach, “what?” he questions innocently straddling the seat.
“I’m not going back to jail, Bucky,” you laugh, hopping on the back of the bike. “How many times do I have to tell you that?”
“It was worth it” Bucky glances over his shoulder, revving the engine with a devious grin, his brows wiggling, “I got bail money.”
“Bucky, no that’s not the point. You know what? Drive, Barnes.” You spend the entire trip laughing and shooting down all his reasons why you should risk it again. You keep your hands firmly around his waist, much to his dismay.
Bucky walks you into the bar, holding your hand, still trying to persuade you to give into him. Nudging him with your hip, you wave at Wanda, the beautiful redhead, unloading a crate of imported whiskey.
“Hey, Wanda, do you need me to help with anything?”
You both ignore Bucky’s protests that you were only here to keep him company. “Yeah, if you could clean out of the booths over that would be great, we got slammed last night, and I was too exhausted to finish cleaning.”
“Got it,” you smile, picking up a few rags off the counter. You order Bucky to go in the back and do his work while you clean. Wanda cackles, deep belly laughing that ends in a snort, when he storms off with a pout, mumbling about how you’re not helping him, he’s going to be lonely in the back.
“Only Bucky, I swear you have the man whipped,” Wanda gasps out, wiping the tears from her eyes, “that reminds me, Sam owes me thirty bucks from our little bet.”
For a second you stare in confusion, Wanda stares back at you, her head cocked to the side, then she smirks.
“the party,” she replies, dragging out the words.
Right, right, right.
You duck your head, cheeks blazing as you walk to the first booth, wiping away crumbs while she laughs again. You’re on the second booth when you hear the door open and Wanda greets Peter. He’s the newest hire, Tony pretty much adopted him when he asked to intern at the mechanic shop next door, he splits his time between learning bartending on the weekends and working on classic cars during the weekdays.
You think he’s a sweet guy, completely unaware of his crush on you. As soon as Peter sees you, he follows you around the bar, offering to help you as you finish cleaning. His awkward attempts at conversation make you grin.
He’s staring at you in absolute wonder when you describe your job. It shouldn’t be that interesting but everything you say captivates Peter. You’re perched on the edge of the table, your legs swinging as you talk, Peter sitting beside you, his head propped up on his hand, a wide grin etched on his face
It’s at that moment Bucky strolls out of his office.
Because of how insatiable Bucky is, most people assume he is also the jealous type. When, in fact, he’s the exact opposite. He’s so confident in your bond and love that he doesn’t care if someone speaks to you, hell they can even flirt if they dare. He enjoys watching them try and fail spectacularly.
Bucky knows that you only want and love him.
And let them look.
He can’t blame anyone for wanting to stare at you, because you are so damn gorgeous. Specifically, when you saunter around the house wearing only his shirts. You learned early in the relationship that even when you think you look terrible; he thinks you’re beautiful. It’s why your nickname is gorgeous. It doesn’t matter if you’re dressed to the nines or in sweatpants and an old t-shirt, you’re pretty no matter what.
Touching is a completely different matter. He doesn’t like people putting their hands on you, a matter of fact he doesn’t even like you putting your hands on you. The only hands he wants on you are his. Oh, you have an itch, Bucky can scratch that for you, your back hurts, Bucky will massage it. Your butt hasn’t been smacked in two hours, he’s on it.
Now, most people know about your relationship and how crazy your man is, so besides your close friends and family, people are careful to not be disrespectful. He has no problem stepping in and defending you from anyone who would even think about upsetting you. In fact, you only have to ask or give him that look and he’s ready to go.
He’s known about Peter’s infatuation for a while and he can’t even blame the kid, Bucky feels the same way each and every time he sees you. He leans against the end of the bar, listening to you talk, your hands moving adorably in the air, emphasizing your point as you get more excited. It’s little moments like this, that he cherishes when you’re nearby and happy.
After a few minutes, you hop down and go to the bathroom, giving Bucky a kiss when you pass him. He strolls over to Peter who gawking at you with a stuporous expression; he slumps down in the chair beside him.
Peter takes a deep breath, sighing, “She’s so-”
“Yeah, she is,” he nods, the corner of his lip turning up.
“How did you even get her, she’s,” Peter sighs again.
Buck leans back, folding his hands behind his head, “no idea, but I’m doing everything I can to keep her.”
“I wouldn’t even know what to do with-” Peter coughs, suddenly remembering who he’s talking to, stammering, “uh Bucky, I mean Mr. Bucky, Mr. Barnes, I didn’t mean-”
Bucky chuckles, slapping him on the back, “no worries kid, I get it, she is incredible, best damn person I know, she’s perfect, wonderful, kind and way more than I deserve.” Bucky leans in, looking Peter in his eyes, “And she would kill you, she’s also insatiable and a little wild and you wouldn’t be able to handle her.”
Coming back into the main area, you’re a few steps away from Bucky, your grin sliding off your face when you hear his last statement. Placing your hands on your hips, you tilt your head in disbelief. I’m insatiable, me, really Bucky, the nerve of this man, you think.
Bucky closes his eyes, his hand over his heart, continues as Peter beams at you over Bucky’s shoulder, “I can barely handle her, not going to let that stop me from marrying her, I have the whole thing planned out, next week I’m taking her to where we had our first date and I’m-.”
You turn to Wanda, who meets your wide eyes. “You’re getting married,” she screams, the bottle of gin in her hand shaking when she jumps up and down. Bucky whips around at the sound of your combined joyous squeals.
Bucky’s head snaps around to a chagrined Peter, “I-you’re dead kid, dead.”
Peter scoots off the table, yelling out congratulations. You wrap your arms around Buckys neck, kissing the side of his face until he forgets that he’s upset that his proposal is ruined.
“Will you at least act surprised?” he asks when you gleefully climb on his lap.
“Yes,” You say without hesitation, gazing up at him, the love shining in your eyes making his head spin, he can only hope you’ll always look at him like that.
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typing... | miya atsumu
After a drunken night with your friends, the last thing you expect to wake up to is Miya Atsumu in your DMs.
miya atsumu x f!reader - 18+
warnings: smut, mentions of alcohol, atsumu, mutual masturbation
A/N: ty to local atsumu fucker and my baeta @atsumuse for once again coming in clutch and making sure atsumu isn’t the bumbling idiot i headcanon him as!!
find part two, message delivered, here!
Saturdays are for two things: the girls and indulgence. When you work hard, you deserve to play hard, right? At least that’s what you tell yourself when you’re four shots deep, dancing like an idiot to some up and coming pop musician in the living room of your best friend’s house.
One of your friends calls your name from the kitchen, where she’s munching on some chips and salsa. “Didn’t you say you had a new boy toy obsession? Let’s hear about him!”
Laughing, you twist open a water bottle and take a long gulp. Something so simple as water tastes like nectar of the gods when you’ve been drinking nothing but liquid fire all night. “You know that volleyball team I follow?”
“The coyotes or whatever?” Your best friend pipes up, lying down on the cool tile of the kitchen floor.
“Black Jackals, but close enough. Yeah, well, I’m kinda over Bokuto—the owl-looking guy—now and I’ve been crushing hard on his teammate. Here, check him out.” You pull up Miya Atsumu’s instagram page, spinning your phone around to show your friends.
“He sorta looks like a playboy,” one of them says in between mouthfuls of tortilla chips. Her eyes light up when she spots a post, hands immediately reaching out to snatch your phone. “Holy shit he’s ripped!” Two fingers go in to shamelessly pinch and zoom in on a picture that a journalist had taken. Atsumu was standing with the rest of the Jackals during a time-out, his skin shining from a thin layer of sweat, and he had the bottom half of his shirt pulled up to wipe at his face. His six-pack was perfectly out on display, every dip and curve highlighted by the gym’s aggressive fluorescent lighting.
Granted, it’s a really, really nice picture. You’ve spent your fair share of time staring at it too, so you can’t be that mad when your friend aggressively stole your phone to look closer. A vindicated smile transforms your face as your phone gets passed to your best friend, who’s still on the ground.
“You should…” She slurs, “you should message him!”
“No way. He has over two hundred thousand followers, I’m sure his DMs already look enough like a swarm of pick up lines and thirsting without me adding to it.”
“You’re just a scared baby,” your other friend chimes in, throwing a chip shard at you. “So, besides how absolutely bangable he looks, there’s gotta be something else you like about him. Come on, you’re usually gushing about these boys for hours!”
They’re not wrong, you’ve been known to go on long-winded spiels about every current celebrity or star you have the hots for at the time, but something about Atsumu seems different. Seems a bit more real. You can’t really point your finger on what exactly, but it doesn’t matter. At the end of the day, it’s just another hyper-fixation that’ll get added to the collection within a few weeks.
A musical alarm sounds, pulling you out from your internal monologue over yet another hot man.
“It’s been 20 minutes. Drink up!” Three shot glasses are lined up on the counter, tequila already being sloppily poured into each one. Your nose scrunches when the cheap smell wafts over you, but you grab a lime wedge and down the sucker.
Vision beginning to grow fuzzy at the edges, you slowly stumble over to the sofa. Now you understand why one of your friends is opting for the floor. It seems like your legs are lagging behind the rest of your body, and it takes you a lot longer than it should’ve to make your way over.
“I think,” you hiccup, “that’s the last one for me. Are you done insta-stalking on my phone yet?”
Groaning, you push your hair away from your face and lie down, thoughts about Atsumu swimming in your alcohol-filled brain.
“He’s just so… dreamy. And, like, even outside of how fucking hot he looks, there’s something so equally attractive about how much he loves volleyball.” Your mouth’s moving before you can even think, something within you compelling you to spill your guts about this man you’ve never even met before and only know through pictures and videos.
“I want Atsumu to look at me the way he looks at a volleyball, I swear to god. The hunger in his eyes makes me just…” A drawn out, exaggerated moan leaves your lips before you turn over, flopping head first into a plush pillow. “And his fingers? Can you imagine how well he knows how to use them? Listen, a girl just wants some Atsumu dick all the way up in her guts, okay?”
Two sets of laughter ring throughout the room. It’s not the first time you’ve vocalised how desperate you are for an athlete’s penis, but you’ve never been this open about it. Usually it requires a lot more alcohol or prodding from your friends for you to get to this point.
Faint whoosh noises chime in the background while you continue your word vomit about how good a dicking down from Atsumu would be. This goes on for a solid five minutes before you get interrupted.
“Oops, your phone’s dead.”
“Just leave it on the table, I’ll charge it before bed.” You mumble, eyes starting to flutter shut as the room spins in your peripheral vision. Maybe you should slow down.
“Don’t fall asleep on us, it’s only 1am!” Shot glasses clink when the alarm goes off again, and you hear glugging as more alcohol fills them. How kind of them to personally bring the drink to you. Stiffly sitting up, you quickly empty the glass into your mouth, immediately reaching for the Coke to chase away the gross aftertaste.
“I don’t know how you guys drink this crap, it’s gross,” you sputter, grimacing at the layer of cheap booze that refuses to leave your mouth.
“What was that? I thought I heard a bitch complain about free alcohol,” your friend teases. “Oh my god turn it up, I love this song!”
Losing yourself in the music and pleasant company of the night, you’re able to fully let go and relax. There’s not enough hours in the day for you to let loose often, so you like to savour these moments whenever you can. The alcohol is working its magic, allowing you to jump up and down to the booming beat of Rihanna without a care in the world.
And it’s the last thing you remember before darkness envelops you.
You wake up to the feeling of a parched throat and pounding headache. Forcing your eyes open, you’re relieved to see that you’re comfortably swaddled in a comforter in your best friend’s bed. There’s worse places to have ended up. She’s nowhere to be seen, but there’s an untouched glass of water and your phone on the nightstand next to you.
Reaching out, your hand passes the water and immediately goes for your phone to check the time. It’s still dead. Grumbling, you fish around for the charging cable and plug it in before rolling out of bed and down the stairs.
There’s a note on the kitchen counter addressed to ‘sleepy dumb hoe’. Assuming that’s you, you unfold the paper.
Went out for brunch with my parents, there’s still some pizza in the fridge. Left you a glass of water — DRINK IT! SERIOUSLY!! Should be back around 1
Peeking at the clock on the stove, it reads 12:17 PM. While you’re reheating the pizza, you hear your phone ding a handful of times from upstairs, so you run up the stairs to grab it. Nothing could ever prepare you for what you see on the lock screen.
msby.atsumu liked a message you sent.
msby.atsumu liked a message you sent.
msby.atsumu liked a message you sent.
msby.atsumu liked a message you sent.
One of your hands slaps over your mouth to contain your shrieks as the other shakily unlocks your phone, opening the Instagram app. Navigating to your DMs, your eyes flare when you open the chat between you and Atsumu and see four sent audio messages. Hesitating for a few beats, you eventually force yourself to play one of them. The tinny sound of your voice blares through the speaker:
“Right?! He’s so fucking hot and for what? Which god did I piss off for them to make Miya freakin’ Atsumu and have him unable to pound me into a mattress? Unbelie—” You slam the lock button on your phone, cutting the clip short, and slump to the floor. Racking your brain, you try to remember the events of last night. You’re almost certain your best friend must have drunkenly hit the record button during your Atsumu thirsting monologue.
Absolutely mortified, you abandon the pizza and race home where you try to occupy your mind with anything and everything you can to forget what had happened.
By the time you allow yourself a breather, it’s nearing 8pm. Your phone’s safely tucked away in your bedroom, far away from you, and completely unchecked. The house is spotless, dinner is finishing up in the oven, and you’re all showered and clean. Puttering back into your bedroom, you rummage around your drawers for some pyjamas, deciding on an oversized T-shirt that reaches your knees and doubles as a makeshift dress. Out of the corner of your eye you see your phone screen light up, a short tune following shortly after.
Thinking it’s your best friend checking in on you, you snag it from your bed.
msby.atsumu: so that was it?
You gasp and almost drop your phone when you read the notification. Your eyes must be playing tricks on you—you still did have a bit of a hangover, after all. Eager fingers go to tap the app open and you’re surprised it isn’t your imagination. Miya Atsumu, professional Division 1 volleyball player, is talking to you.
At a complete loss for words, you stare at his message. Minutes pass and you almost scream when 3 grey dots pop up at the bottom corner of your screen.
msby.atsumu: wow, you’re gonna confess your love for me and then leave me on read? ouch
Biting down on your lip, you respond.
yn.babie: omg i am so so sorry you had to listen to that, my friend sent those while we were drunk
msby.atsumu: I’m glad they did. you really know how to make a man feel special ;)
Holy shit, is this really happening? Are you actually having a full on conversation with a literal celebrity athlete right now? Your phone chimes again, bringing your focus back to the messages.
msby.atsumu: anything else you wanna tell me while I’ve got you and you have my undivided attention?
Mind still scrambling, you type the first thought that comes to mind.
yn.babie: i hope it’s actually you
The ‘seen by’ words appear, quickly accompanied by the typing bubbles. They disappear seconds later and you sit there, blankly staring at your phone until it auto sleeps. When a few minutes go by without a response, the blank screen reflecting your anxious face, you groan. Did you say the wrong thing?
msby.atsumu sent a photo.
Instantly opening the picture, your screen’s filled with a selfie of a shirtless Atsumu from the waist up, playfully sticking his tongue out. There’s a digital clock sitting on one of his shoulders, showing the current time.
msby.atsumu: that good enough? I had to unearth that old clock my brother dumped at my place for you
yn.babie: i wasn’t really looking at the clock but i’m not complaining 😳
msby.atsumu: oh? I hope you enjoyed the view. since you saw me, do I get to see if you’re as pretty as you sound?
Your jaw drops as you gawk at the latest message. Taking a quick peek at yourself in the mirror, you’re glad that you’re freshly showered, although starting to regret the old, billowy t-shirt as the pyjama choice.
Trying to stall for time, you hurriedly type a response.
yn.babie: it depends, what do you wanna see?
msby.atsumu: surprise me. I’m starting to think this is a set up though, there’s no way someone as cute as you would settle for me
A high pitched giggle worms its way out from your chest. You? Settle for Atsumu? In what world? Everyone knows how charming he is, but even still, you’re surprised by how easy it is to talk to him. If you’re not careful you might actually start to like this guy for real.
yn.babie: mmm you’re right, i could be some gross dude behind a screen
msby.atsumu: sooo do I get to see you, sweetheart?
The butterflies in your stomach are fluttering wildly out of control, but you can’t obsess over the pet name for too long. Pulling your makeup bag out, you apply your most natural-faced look and brush your hair. While you’re in the middle of finding literally any flattering top to switch into, your phone dings.
msby.atsumu: sorry, that was weird. you don’t have to. I’m still riding the high of listening to you tell me how pretty my fingers look tbh
Your cheeks light up at his reminder of your drunken confessions while you settle on a flowy camisole and loose short shorts. Slipping them on, you angle your phone slightly above you, put on a smile, and snap a handful of pictures. Picking your least hated one, you draw a little heart with your finger in the empty space next to you and send it. The moment you hear the whoosh, you realise that the angle you’d taken the picture from puts your cleavage front and centre.
The photo message gets opened instantly, and within seconds you get another notification.
msby.atsumu liked a message you sent.
msby.atsumu: I knew it. you’re stunning, sweetheart. holy shit
Your breath catches at the compliment, feeling the tips of your ears start to burn. Part of you still doesn’t believe this is happening, but you don’t dare to pinch yourself to check if it’s a dream. If it is, you never want to wake up.
While you’re thinking of a response, debating between something bratty or a simple thank you, your thumb grazes over the top corner of the direct message. The screen immediately turns from a chat into a reflection of your face. You scramble to cancel the video call, fingers frantically trying to tap the red button, but just as you’re about to hit it, the image changes.
You’re greeted with the sight of Miya Atsumu, in all of his shirtless glory, looking right at you with a raised brow and a smirk. He’s lying on a bed, leaning back against the headboard with an arm resting behind his head. The bulge of his bicep and defined lines of every muscle in his torso has you feeling warm.
A low whistle plays through your phone speaker as Atsumu takes you in, eyes flitting down to focus on your breasts. His smirk widens, wondering if you were already wearing that specific top or if you picked that out just for him.
“Someone’s eager,” he teases, “I gotta say, your method of wooing a guy is interesting. Pretty sure it’s supposed to go: get to know him, gush about how hot he is to your friends, and then surprise him with a sudden video call.”
Laughing in disbelief, you roll your eyes. “It was an accident! My finger slipped.”
“Uh huh, sure.”
“Well, you picked up within milliseconds, so I find it hard to believe that you weren’t just sitting there, waiting for me to make a move! And, uh, do you usually pick up video calls from random people while completely naked?”
The angle Atsumu’s holding his phone leaves little to the imagination, and you’re having a hard time not staring at the dips and ridges of his abs.
“I’m wearing pants!”
“Uh huh, sure,” you shoot back, repeating what he said earlier.
His tongue peeks out to wet his bottom lip, eyes narrowing at the unspoken challenge. “Sweetheart, if you really wanted an excuse to see my—and I’m quoting you—‘dummy thick thighs’, you could’ve just asked nicely.”
The camera shakes as Atsumu props his phone up on a nightstand, giving you the perfect landscape view of him from his soft-looking hair to his muscular legs. You never doubted that he wasn’t wearing pants, but you didn’t expect to see the barely visible outline of a half-hard erection through his sweatpants.
“See? Told you. You’re right, by the way.” Atsumu smacks one of his thighs enthusiastically, inadvertently making his dick press against the fabric from the impact. “They are pretty big.”
There’s a familiar ache in your core. You hope it’s not too obvious that you’re pressing your thighs together, trying to subtly find any sort of relief from the desire pooling in your stomach.
“What’s the matter, angel? You’re pretty quiet now. What a shame, you had so much to say about me last night. Does the real thing live up to your expectations?” There’s a glimmer of something hungry and desperate in his eyes as he keeps his gaze fixed at his phone. Every hitch in your breath and shuffling of your body has him wondering what you’re doing outside of the tiny window of your camera.
“Definitely,” you breathe out.
You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t imagined scenarios like this before, when it’s late at night and you were feeling particularly needy. In reality, though, it’s so much hotter. The insides of your thighs are getting slicker with your juices by the second, and eventually pressing them together isn’t cutting it anymore. A faint whine slips from you, and if Atsumu’s cock could get any harder it would have.
The now prominent tent in his sweats completely captures your attention, followed by the flexing of his abs when he groans. Running his fingers through his hair, he pushes back his bangs with a heavy exhale. “You can’t just make those noises while looking like that and expect me not to react. I wasn’t kidding, you’re fucking beautiful, and I’m only human.”
“Atsumu…” You whimper, pulling your bottom lip in between your teeth and looking at him through half-lidded eyes.
“Yeah, sweetheart? There’s the girl I heard last night,” Atsumu coos, palming the entire length of his impressive erection from over his pants. He’s figured out that you’ve been secretly playing with yourself, and he’s not going to let you have all the fun. “Love hearing you say my name like that, fuck. It’s all I could think about when I listening to those audio messages.”
Atsumu’s words light a fire in you. The next thing you know, you’re spreading your legs and dipping your free hand into your shorts.
He licks his lips when he hears you shuffle your phone around. Unable to hold back any longer, he spits into his hand and reaches into his sweats, hissing when it wraps around the tip of his dick. “You touching yourself thinking it’s me, angel?”
There’s no good explanation as to why you’re being so shameless, but here you are, ghosting your fingers over your glistening slit while on video with a stranger. A very sexy, very charming stranger. Although he can’t see it, Atsumu can connect the dots and imagine what you’re doing by the slight shake to the camera and your breathless expression. It’s all but confirmed when you press down on your clit and a lewd mewl fills the air.
“That’s it, what a good girl. Look at how hard you’ve made me.”
At some point you’ve shut your eyes, losing yourself in Atsumu’s rich, velvety voice and the pleasure coursing through you. When you open them, you see that Atsumu’s picked up his phone again, using the back camera to give you a delicious view. The band of his sweats are tucked under his balls, and he’s pulled out his cock, his hand fisting the base. Slowly, he drags it up to the tip and back down, spreading precum along the shaft.
After a few slow jerks, Atsumu lets out a string of airy curses, bucking his hips upwards and fucking into his fist. “C’mon, baby, let me hear you—don’t you dare hold back on me. Fuck, look at those pretty lips, I wanna see what they’d look like stretched around my cock. You’d look so good with my cum all over you. Is that what you want? Want me to pin you down and spill my cum down your throat, sweetheart?”
Nodding frantically, you feel your hole clench around a frustrating emptiness, wanting nothing more than to be split open for Atsumu. Your eyes are glued to the screen while you draw circles into your clit, feeling your thighs tingle and toes curl as you’re barreling towards release. From the choked, guttural moans coming from Atsumu, coupled with the shaky, twitch of his hips, you’re sure he’s close too. He leans his head back to rest against the headboard, mouth hanging open while he pumps his cock faster.
As your vision starts to go white, you whimper, “Atsumu, I-I’m gonna…”
“Yeah, me too, angel, cum with—”
Three heavy knocks against a door cuts him off, jolting Atsumu out of his hazy arousal. A loud voice yells at him through the wood.
“‘Tsumu! Do you know where my boxers are? Hello? Ah screw it, I’m coming in!”
“No, Bokuto, don’t you fucking—!”
Your phone screen switches back to the direct messages between you and Atsumu as he abruptly ends the call. Completely stunned, you sit there, with your hand still in between your legs, wondering what the hell just happened. The screen goes black as your phone auto sleeps, and a mixture of genuine awe and disbelief has you laughing to yourself. There’s no way you were just getting off with Miya Atsumu. This is definitely a hangover-induced dream. Those exist, right?
Your attention’s brought back to your phone when it vibrates in your hand. Two notification banners appear in front of your eyes.
msby.atsumu: you free tomorrow? I’d like to finish what we started ;)
fic taglist: @tsumtsumland @flairlust @thevillagehiddenintheinternet @minaces @2chickenwangs @sunnykoushii @bombardia @thathoneybee3 @abswrites @tanakaslastbraincell @kissungjae @whenyouscream
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as a gesture of goodwill lena let's any of the superfriends ask questions and she has to answer as best as she can. she expects questions about why she turned into a supervillian and how she expects them to trust her again, however it takes about three minutes for them to start abusing this power. lena almost cries when nia asks why they can't just print more money.
“C’mon, Luthor. We’ve all done it. Now it’s your turn.”
Alex’s voice is slurred, and she’s leaning so heavily into Kelly’s side on the couch that she’s practically horizontal. Her cheeks are flushed – a byproduct of the obscene quantities of alcohol consumed thus far – but her expression is dogged, determined.
“Yeah!” Nia crows from the floor, allowing Brainy to prop her upright when she sways dangerously. “Come on, Lena, it’ll be fun. Five minutes of our questions and you have to answer honestly. Totally n’completely honestly.”
Lena blanches. “I’m not sure—”
“You gotta!” Nia half-yells, then seems to catch herself under Brainy’s disapproving gaze. “I mean, you don’t gotta,” she continues more quietly. “Only if you wanna. But s’good for us. It’s fun. Rebuilding trust. Open communication. S’right, isn’t it, Kelly?”
Kelly, the most sober of the group by a country mile, purses her lips. “I’m not sure this is exactly what I had in mind when I suggested trust-building—”
“We’ve got the spirit,” Alex mumbles into her girlfriend’s shoulder as Nia slaps Brainy’s thigh, grinning. “No, s’better.”
“I’m not sure it is better,” Kara mumbles from her position on the floor, leaning against the armchair Lena’s sitting in. Her cheeks are still beet-red, a lingering reminder of her own turn in the honesty hot-seat during which she’d admitted – under much duress – to having had a crush on Simba the lion during her adolescence. Simba the animated lion.
“You don’t have to,” she twists to murmur, chin propped on Lena’s knee as she stares up at her with earnest blue eyes. “Ignore them. You don’t have to do or say anything you’re not comfortable with.”
“No, it’s fine,” Lena says, to convince herself as much as the blonde currently tracing light patterns up and down Lena’s calf with her fingernails. “It’s just like truth or dare, except nobody will dare me to buy Fox News this time.”
She fixes Nia with a pointed look. The brunette at least has the good grace to look a little abashed.
“You already bought one media empire for a friend,” Nia shrugs, and there’s a pointed significance to her tone that Lena flatly decides not to acknowledge. “What’s one more?”
Lena ignores her, distracted by the way Kara’s head has lolled so that her cheek rests against Lena’s thigh. Her wandering hand has slid up Lena’s calf to cup the back of her knee, and Lena struggles to remember the point she’d been attempting to make.
“It’s all good,” she smiles down at Kara’s furrowed brow, aiming for reassurance and praying she makes it. “Since I’ve heard about Kelly stealing a McDonald’s sign in college and Nia accidentally texting lingerie photos to her boss, the least I can do is return the favour.”
She swallows hard, squares her shoulders. “It’s just a game.”
Just a game, just a game, she chants in her head as a constant reminder. She can handle a game. Even if it does require her own brutal honesty in front of people she’d once considered family but who, for a while there, had maybe almost definitely been prepared to kill her.
She bites the inside of her cheek hard, trying not to let her anxiety show. What the hell are they going to ask her? An awful lot of alcohol has been consumed tonight, and Alex and Nia in particular aren’t known for their tact and discretion at the best of times. Stomach twisting with nerves, she considers the sorts of thinly-veiled accusations that might come her way.
Why did you use Kryptonite on Kara? How do you feel about finally living up to the Luthor name? Are you planning on mind-controlling all of humanity again in the near future?
Lena digs her fingernails hard into her denim-clad thigh, trying to school her features into a semblance of open neutrality. Trying to fathom a way to get through this game with both her newfound oath of honesty and her fragile heart intact.
Kara’s eyes fall on Lena’s tensed fingers and she pries them out of the meat of her thigh, lacing them with her own and giving Lena’s hand a reassuring squeeze. Lena smiles weakly down at her as Nia sets a timer on her phone.
“Okay, five minutes on the clock,” the brunette slurs. “Go!”
For a moment, the room is deathly silent. Lena’s heart is in her throat, her stomach down somewhere around her ankles as she waits for the inevitable laundry list of her many sins to be hung out to dry.
One second, the only sound is the ticking of Kara’s ridiculously gaudy goldfish wall clock. The next, the floodgates open.
“Would you allow me to partner with you on L-Corp’s newest black-body radiation project?” Brainy asks at the exact moment Nia yells, “Will you take me shopping?”
Lena blinks, a little blindsided. Nia misinterprets her hesitance, backtracking so quickly her garbled speech is almost unintelligible. “I don’t mean pay for me,” she huffs at Alex’s incredulous eyebrow raise, turning back to Lena. “I just mean, teach me how to dress. You always look so good.”
“I, um. Yes?” Lena manages, smiling at both Nia and Brainy as her alcohol-clouded brain tries to catch up with the unexpected turn of events. Satisfied in the first round of questioning, the group winds up for a second onslaught.
“Who’s the most famous person in your phone contacts?” Kelly smiles at her. “Apart from Supergirl, of course.”
“Are you richer than Elon Musk?” Nia chimes in. “Do you sleep on a bed of money? Actually, do you sleep at all?”
“What’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done while drunk?” Alex smirks. “Is it worse than the time Kara convinced you to sing N*Sync karaoke with her?”
“I should like to learn how to fence,” Brainy says solemnly, intertwining his fingers with Nia’s. “It is a complex and highly-skilled activity requiring both strategic planning and an excellent understanding of mechanical physics, in addition to athleticism. It is thus the ideal means for me to, as Nia puts it, get some bounce in my buns. Would you be willing to practice with me?”
“If I eat one whole salad, will you come with me to try the new waffle place on Third?” That’s Kara, of course, blinking up at her big and angelic. “And promise not to order the healthiest thing on the menu?”
Nia narrows her eyes, smirking as she circles round for another go. “Is that your natural hair colour?”
Lena does her best to parry the volley of questions with smiles and nods and gasped-out answers before the next request hits her like a missile. It’s overwhelming in the best way, to be the centre of attention for good, for once. The room is noisy and warm and every face around the coffee table is smiling at her and Lena thinks, maybe they’ll be okay, in the end. Maybe they’ll be okay, after all.
“Okay,” Nia drawls three minutes in, head pillowed in Brainy’s lap ever since she’d gotten too excited in her questioning and forgotten how to hold herself up. “You’re, like, a literal genius. If you can’t explain it to me, no one can.”
Kelly’s brow furrows. “I’m not sure this is the type of question—”
“No, I wanna know,” Nia huffs. “Leeeeeena, make it make sense! Like, why can’t they just print more money though? Then we could all be billionaires.”
Lena frowns. “I mean, economics isn’t my specialty but I’m fairly sure that wouldn’t—”
“But why not?” Nia insists. “Like, we can make money. We can just make it, so. Let’s make more.”
Lena glances helplessly around the room, but it seems she won’t be getting any support in this matter. Brainy and Kelly look too tired and/or drunk to be of any use in quelling Nia’s barrage of questions, while the Danvers sisters seem genuinely invested in hearing Lena’s answer.
“I think it’s a great plan,” Nia continues. “We just print money until we have enough. No more poverty. Yay!”
Lena winces at the incognizable logic, thanking God her college economics professor isn’t here to witness this trainwreck. “The price of everything would go up,” she tries weakly. “Inflation—”
“Okay,” Nia cuts her off, unperturbed. “But we create prices, right? We create markets. So let’s just, you know. Not.”
“Not?” Lena echoes feebly, despair mounting.
“Yeah,” Nia drawls, slapping her hand around blindly on the floor until her fingers find her beer bottle and she can take a long pull. “We made up money. We made up all of it. So let’s just, like. Un-make-up poverty. Print money for everyone!”
Lena’s mouth opens and closes hopelessly. She doesn’t even know where to begin. It’s so wrong, all of it, every single thing Nia has said. But she doesn’t have the slightest clue how to go about answering. At this point, she’s not even sure what the original question was. She’s not sure Nia is either.
Blessedly, Kara decides to once again utilise her almost preternatural ability to detect Lena’s inner turmoil, slapping a hand on the coffee table with finality. “No more money questions,” she only very slightly slurs, fixing her protégé with a firm stare. “You’re wasting all our time. Nia is banned from questions for one whole minute.”
She bangs her fist on the table again, a makeshift gavel. Nia pouts, slouching back into Brainy’s lap with a huff.
“I’ve passed my ruling; court is adjourned,” Kara says solemnly, pretzel crumbs shaking themselves free from her sweater as she addresses the room. “Someone else may take the stand.”
“Nia does not appreciate the personalised poetry I write for her,” Brainy sniffs, mock-glaring down at his girlfriend. “Lena, if I recite my most recent sonnet to you, would you tell me—”
“No!” Alex, Kara and Nia yell in unison. Lena shrugs apologetically as Brainy’s mouth snaps shut with a disgruntled click, his frown softening only when Nia reaches up to stroke a loving hand against his cheek.
“How much money do you spend on kale in a year?” Kara asks suddenly, eyes narrowed. “Is it more than my couch is worth, d’you think?”
Lena shrugs, and Kara’s face twists in horror. “More than the cost of my TV?”
Another shrug. Kara appears genuinely close to tears, eyes wide and lower lip trembling. “More than the cost of my apartment?”
Lena smiles and pats her cheek as Alex perks up, eyes gleaming. “Did you kill Morgan Edge?” she asks eagerly, drunkenness momentarily forgotten. “Is that why he just disappeared? Don’t worry, I promise I won’t tell anyone. In fact, I thought about doing it myself.”
Lena gapes, caught somewhere between laughter and outrage. “Did I—? No I did not.”
“Did Kara kill him for you?” Alex volleys without missing a beat. “And you’re covering for her? I swear I won’t arrest either of you. Scout’s honour.”
“You were never a Girl Scout,” Kara accuses, and Lena’s mouth drops open.
“That’s your problem with what she just said?”
Kara just shrugs amiably, scooting her way in between Lena’s legs so she can lean her head back in her lap, whining in the back of her throat until Lena reaches out a hand to card her fingers absentmindedly through her hair.
“Can you design me a suit that lets me fly?” Nia asks, ignoring Kara’s protests that her minute-long ban has not yet expired. “Not that I don’t love Supergirl piggybacking me home after a fight, but it would be way cooler if I could do it myself.”
“Um. I can try,” Lena offers, and the way the young woman beams at her makes her feel warm from head to toe.
The timer on Nia’s cell phone is ticking down, and with less than half a minute left Kelly leans forward suddenly, her expression gentle.
“I have a question for you,” she starts, and Lena braces herself. “What can we do to show you how much we appreciate you?”
Lena blinks. “I’m— sorry?”
Kelly’s lips curve up in a knowing smile. “I’m serious, Lena. I know it’s taken a lot for you to decide to work on re-strengthening your relationships with all of us. We’d have been lost without your help fighting your brother and honestly, we were all a little lost in general when you weren’t around.” Her eyes flick to Kara who nods emphatically, rolling her head to press a sloppy kiss to Lena’s thigh.
“Forgiveness and healing are a two-way street,” Kelly continues, and beneath the warmth of the therapist’s gentle attention Lena feels her eyes begin to mist over. “So, that’s my question. How can we make up for the pain we’ve caused you? How can we show you how much you mean to us?”
“Yeah,” Nia chimes in as Lena’s throat tightens against the hot sting of tears. “Do you have any inventions that stop people being stupid? Can you use it on all of us, so we never do anything that makes you want to leave us again?”
“How can I show you how sorry I am?” Alex asks quietly at the same moment Kara murmurs, “Do you think you’ll ever be able to forgive me?”
“We’re not trying to put any pressure on you,” Kelly cuts in, shooting a hard glance at both Danvers sisters who duck their heads in sync, suitably chastised. “You don’t have to say anything right now. But think about it, yeah?”
Lena nods because she can’t do anything else, throat closed over as she lifts her chin, trying to blink the gathering tears back into her lacrimal glands. The room falls quiet for a moment and the loving weight of the gazes fixed upon her is so overwhelming that Lena almost sobs in relief when Nia’s phone timer shatters the silence.
“Aw, nuts,” Nia pouts. “I had one more question!”
Sensing the way Lena stiffens, Kara shakes her head. “Nope. Finito. Adios, amigo.”
“But it was a really good one,” Nia complains. “I swear.”
“Nia, you’ve had your—” Kelly starts but Nia’s already yelling over her. “Can I hug you?”
Her earnest gaze roots Lena to the spot like a deer in the headlights and she’s barely nodded her acquiescence when Nia is rocketing unsteadily towards her. “Pile on!” she yells and the next thing Lena knows five pairs of arms are looping their way around her in various uncomfortable-looking contortions. Alex rests her chin on the crown of Lena’s head, Nia and Kelly taking a shoulder each while Brainy contents himself with patting the back of Lena’s hand comfortingly.
Kara has all but climbed into her lap, knees straddling Lena’s thighs as she presses her face to the crook of Lena’s neck, breath ghosting hot over her skin. The entire configuration is stiflingly warm and objectively uncomfortable and Lena’s pretty sure she has someone’s knee making a home in her kidney and at least two separate arms pulling painfully on her hair, and she’s not sure she’s ever been happier.
“Missed you,” Nia all but drools against Lena’s shoulder, head lolling as unconsciousness beckons. “Love you.”
Lena’s throat tightens again as the others repeat the sentiment, disembodied hands stroking over her hair, her back, her shoulders. She feels like the world’s most pampered house cat, petted and patted to within an inch of her life, and she’s just drunk enough that she never wants the sensation to end. Maybe she’ll start purring.
“Yeah,” Kara mumbles straight into Lena’s skin, her voice vibrating through Lena’s body and settling somewhere hot and deep. “Yeah. Missed you, Lena. Love you,” she hums, quiet and close. “I love you.”
Lena doesn’t know if the others overhear Kara’s whisper. In this moment, she doesn’t know anything at all, anything that exists outside of the blissful weight of Kara’s body atop her own, of Kara’s strong hands moulded tenderly to her hips, of Kara’s lips pressing warm and deliberate to the underside of her jaw.
Lena’s brain has vacated the premises entirely, along with her capacity to convert air into useable oxygen. Rendered immobile by more than just the five bodies pressing her into the armchair, she tugs one trapped arm free to fist tightly in the front of Kara’s sweatshirt.
One of Kara’s hands vacates its position on her hip and pries her fingers free only to intertwine them with her own and squeeze tightly, and somehow the gesture feels like even more of an earnest declaration than her words had.
It feels like a chance. It feels like a promise.
Lena squeezes back.
“So,” Nia slurs next to her ear and Lena jumps. She’d momentarily forgotten they weren’t alone; an impressive feat considering her current bottom-of-the-hug-pile position.
Nia’s head lolls on her shoulder, her eyelids fluttering shut. “Not that this isn’t an adorable moment,” she drawls as she pats Lena’s cheek clumsily, and Lena almost loses an eye to her flailing fingers. “But are we gonna talk about how I just solved world poverty, or…?”
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Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader
Summary: You want to be more than friends with Ransom. When he laughs it off, you cut him off. He doesn’t like being ignored.
Word Count: Over 2.3k
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, jealousy, possessive behavior, semi-public sex, Ransom being an asshole.
This is not beta-read, so any and all mistakes are my own
Been some time since I’ve given Ransom any love. The muse went where the muse wanted it to go. Gif by @aestheticallywinchester. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Enjoy, lovelies!
Laughter was one of your favorite sounds. It always brought a smile to your face...until now. The sound that now reached your ears was vicious and you wanted the ground to swallow you up. And the laughter didn't stop. Even when you looked away to hide how hurt you were.
"Oh, my God. You're serious," Ransom laughed harder.
When he approached you months ago suggesting a "friends with benefits" kind of deal, you turned him down. That wasn't the kind of relationship you were looking for. Especially when he made it clear that he didn't do relationships period. He swore he wouldn't give up until he had you. The man wore you down and it didn't take long to fall into bed with him.
The more time you spent with him, the more you fell for him. Under his arrogance was a good man and you knew part of the act was a defense mechanism. You couldn't blame him with how his family was. Compared to that train wreck, Ransom was semi-normal.
You didn't ask him to leave things at your place, but did anyway. He never kicked you out when he had you over. The two of you actually talked. He treated you well. So you took a chance and asked to be more than friends. And all you got in return was just a cruel cackle.
"Fuck, that was hilarious. Never pegged you for a comedian."
"You are SUCH an asshole!" you snapped as you got out of bed.
"You're just figuring that out?" he asked, rolling his eyes as you haphazardly threw your clothes on. "Where the hell are you going?"
"I'm leaving, obviously. This was a mistake," you said, grabbing your bag with a shaky hand.
"We have a good thing going. Don't fuck it up."
"Don't fuck it up?!" you repeated, furious at how quickly he brushed your feelings off. "This situation was fucked from the start."
"I never lied to you," he said angrily. "I told you I don't do relationships, so don't get pissed at me that you created this delusional future in your head."
You stepped back, stung by the venom in his tone. Did he have to be so hurtful? "I never should have agreed to this in the first place."
"But you did," he smirked. "I didn't force your hand."
"No, you didn't," you agreed. You were the one stupid enough to give him a chance. "But I'm stopping it."
"Oh, I'm sure you are. I give it a week before you're begging for me again, sweetheart," he scoffed.
"Don't call me that," you hissed, ignoring his clenched jaw as you got your keys out. "Lose my number, Ransom. And don't bother with the stuff I left here. Just toss it," you said seriously.
He laughed again, but this time he sounded bitter. "You're not ending this."
"Yes, I am. Goodbye, Ransom," you swore, rushing out before he could respond. Once you were home, you could cry about it. And after that, you wouldn't shed another tear. He wasn't worth it. But you were still disappointed that he didn't chase after you.
True to your word, you cut yourself off from Ransom. You even packed his stuff in a box like a real break-up. A twisted part of you missed being around him, but you were stronger than you gave yourself credit for. You naturally expected him to move on. Which is why you were surprised when you got the first text.
"You shockingly made it a week. I'm impressed."
The message went unanswered. Just like every other message after.
"Playing hard to get? That's new."
"I miss feeling your wet pussy around me."
"I don't like you ignoring me."
"You seriously want me to throw your stuff out?"
"Just fucking answer me."
"I miss you. Please."
The last two messages nearly broke your resolve, but you convinced yourself that he had too much scotch. You were sick of overanalyzing it. And you were sick of pitying yourself. So when your friends planned a night out, you jumped at the chance. It would help you move on.
You just finished getting ready when your phone rang. It was probably one of the girls making sure you were actually going. You missed the last few nights out. "Hey. I'm on my way," you answered without checking the number.
"Well, that was easy. Knew you missed me."
"...Ransom," you said, swearing under your breath. "I thought you were someone else."
"I'm meeting up with my friends."
"So? Ditch them and come over."
You snorted, taking one last look in the mirror as you left. "So you can get your dick wet? No thanks."
"Tell me you don't miss my cock," he said. You could hear his smirk through the phone.
His attitude drove it home further that the "I miss you" text was just a fluke. "Why would I miss yours when I can just find a new one at the club?"
You thought he hung up when he didn't say respond right away. "Thought you weren't the 'friends with benefits' type."
"This would be a 'one night stand' type."
"Spare me. We both know you're not taking anyone home."
"Oh, I don't know about that. I'm wearing that little, black dress tonight and I know it'll turn some heads."
"That's bullshit, sweetheart. The only person you're going home with is me."
He sounded angry, which didn't make you feel satisfied as you thought. It still didn't stop you from retaliating. "Why the hell would I go home with YOU, Ransom? It's not like you give a shit about me. You don't miss me. You're just pissed off that I didn't want to be your toy anymore."
"Don't you dare tell me how I feel you when-"
"So if I want to find a guy to fuck my brains out and make me forget you ever existed, so be it. Oh. And when you jerk off tonight, make sure you get your hand nice and wet. It just might feel like a pussy. Enjoy."
You hung up before you could hear what Ransom shouted. You had no intention of hooking up with anyone. And maybe it was wrong to taunt him like that. You were supposed to be different...nice. But what the hell had nice ever gotten you?
You smiled as you danced with your friends hours later, your hips moving in time with the music. The little, black dress turned heads like you said. It even got your group a round of shots. The high died quickly. It wasn't the attention you wanted.
At some point, a stranger grinded against you and you didn't find it in yourself to care. It was just a dance and you were a single woman. The guy was cute. He even-
"Pretty, isn't she?" you heard over the music, turning your head when your recognized the voice.
"And she's mine," he ignored you as he pressed against you. "These? Mine," you gasped as a hand ran over your breasts. "And this?" you were too stunned to stop his other hand from hiking your dress up and sliding between your thighs. "All mine."
"Holy shit," one of your friends said. The rest stopped dancing to watch the show, too drunk or shocked to stop it.
"I didn't know," the guy swore, backing off. You didn't see how murderous Ransom's gaze was.
"Now you do. And trust me, her pussy would have been dryer than the Sahara with you. Not like with me. Soaked like the fucking Nile."
"What the actual FUCK?!" you yelled when he suddenly picked you up and carried you off the dance floor. Not a single person around you tried to stop him. Your friends included. What the hell was wrong with them? Or did they think it was just an act?
You half expected Ransom to carry you out of the club, but he took you to an empty booth in the VIP section. He set you in his lap as he sat down, forcing you to straddle him. "You really think that prick would have shown you a good time?"
"How the hell did you even find me?!"
"Bimbo number three tagged you in her update. 'Night out with my girls. Hoes before bros. YOLO'," he mocked in a high-pitched voice before he glared at you. "You let that fucker touch you."
"We were just dancing," you snapped, trying to push off his shoulders as he gripped your hips. "Ransom, were you jealous?"
"You'll let any prick touch you just because you're pissed at me? That's pathetic," he replied, ignoring your question.
You didn't realize what you did until you felt the sting on your palm. Ransom looked just as shocked as you as he touched his cheek. You had never slapped anyone before, but you were sick of his shit.
"I'm not your girlfriend. We're not even friends. No matter what you did out there, do you understand? I. Am. Not. Yours."
Your words seemed to hurt him worse than the slap, but he didn't let that show for long. That signature smirk reappeared as he gripped the back of your head. "Yes, you are."
He pulled you down for a hard kiss, not budging as you tried to push away. It didn't take long to melt into him and you hated how quickly your body responded. It wasn't fair that he would get what he wanted. But he always did.
"I told you not to ignore me. I told you to come home with me," he said between kisses, reaching under your dress to tear off your panties. He rolled his hips up so you could feel how hard he was in his slacks, tossing the fabric beside him.
"Asshole! I liked those!" you snapped, twisting a hand through his hair as he kissed down your neck.
"I like you better without them," he said, biting over your pulse. "I should mark you up completely. Let everyone know you're mine."
"Ransom...I'm not…" you moaned as he pushed two fingers into you.
"You're MINE," he growled, pumping his fingers as the music pulsed around you. "You need a reminder."
He rubbed your sensitive walls until you writhed in his lap. It could have been minutes or hours. The friction wasn't enough. He kept you right there on the edge. And it pissed you off. "Either fuck me or fuck off," you demanded, whining when he slid his fingers out.
"I'm in charge, sweetheart," he sneered, reaching between your bodies to free himself. You involuntarily clenched when he teased you slick folds with the tip. "And by the time I'm done fucking you, that prick and every other guy here will know whose cock makes you scream."
He didn't waste anymore time teasing you, impaling you completely. You cried out, uncaring that you others were around. Jesus, Ransom was fucking you in a club and you didn't put up much of a fight. Were you that desperate for him?
Ransom fucked hard into you, the lights illuminating his face as he bounced you in his lap. You savored the feel of him as you circled your hips, even as he controlled the pace. "Knew you missed my cock...missed me," he smirked.
You wanted to argue, but it would have been a lie. "Thought you were going to make me scream."
Your head fell back as he lifted you higher and brought you back down. One thing to back up his arrogance was that he knew how to fuck. He knew how to make you ache that left you begging for more. Each moan he pulled out of you likely stroked his ego and you were too far gone to keep a shred of dignity.
"That's right. My pussy," he said in a low voice as he watched you. "Say it. You know I love hearing it."
"Fuck yes. Haven't...been with anyone else," he admitted with a groan. "You were supposed to come back. But you let some other fucker touch you."
"Fuck…" you moaned as you rode him faster, clenching around his thick length.
"You better enjoy coming for me here. Because I'm tying you up when we get home. Gonna edge you for hours for ignoring me. Maybe days for walking out on me."
You weren't sure how much longer you'd last. The rush of pride you felt that he was jealous made you dizzy. In his own fucked up way, he was telling you he missed you. "Please, make me come."
"I'll let you," he said as he looked in your eyes, his pace punishing as pleasure pooled in your stomach. It was so strong. "But only because I love you. So fucking come."
You screamed his name as you came hard, the intensity making you black out for a moment. You collapsed in his lap as he chased his own end. His grip was tight as he filled you and that familiar satisfaction washed over you. Both of you panted, clinging to one another. It was perfect.
But you could only savor the euphoria for so long. You were afraid to lift your head. The rush of being in public, his words. It was so much.
"I think everyone heard you," Ransom spoke after a moment, chuckling and holding you when you tried to move. "I paid the bouncers as soon as I got in. We're fine."
"Are we?" you asked, keeping your head on his shoulder so as not to face him.
Ransom lifted your head, his kiss surprisingly gentle. "I know I was an ass. I always fuck things up. Just...come back home and we'll talk."
You did have a lot of things to talk about. Like that he let "love" and "home" slip in there. "We can talk.”
He smirked as he kept you in his lap. "Still edging the shit out of when we're done."
"Asshole," you whispered, but none of the malice was there. Maybe after tonight you really would be more than just friends.
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secrets that you keep; iwaizumi hajime
synopsis; in which his best friend is secretly a camgirl. part 1, part 2
pairings; iwaizumi hajime x fem!reader
trigger warnings; i highly recommend reading the first two parts before this. they’re only drabbles that introduce everything! anyways, this is absolute filth. don’t read this if any of the stuff mentioned could trigger you, please! masturbation, camgirl stuff, one mention of the word ‘daddy,’ self choking, degradation, humiliation, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, creampie, a lot of choking, accidental breathplay, not proofread unfortunately
it’s an ongoing inner battle he’s been having for weeks now, ever since he’d been directed to that trending video of yours. he sees you in his dreams, hears you loud and clear, moaning and crying for him, and worst of all, he feels you, so perfectly, against his, around him, and it’s overwhelming in the worst way possible. even maintaining eye contact is tiresome at this point.
but he does wonder whether you know or not, more often than he should— were you deliberately calling out for him, in hopes that he’d find this video somehow? or had you said it because you’d assumed this is your safe place, that there’s no way he’d be able to find these videos? had it been a slip up? or, more accurately, multiple slip ups? what were the chances anyways, that it had been an accident, or unintentional, or intentional and he had been losing sleep over it, or that he wasn’t the hajime you were crying out for?
his heard hurt. awfully. there’s already the constant worry of regulating his breathing around you and cleansing his thoughts of anything he’d seen of you the moment you meet, but this added dilemma is in no way helping. every day that you text him for a coffee date, or a night out after a rather stressful week, or a night in at your apartment, and he agrees, his mind diverts immediately to where it shouldn’t as soon as he lays eyes on you. and the worst part of it all is how aware he is of how wrong this is. he knows it’s wrong to choose the revealing shirt over the other when you ask him for his opinion, just because he wants that effortless glance at your cleavage. it’s also so wrong of him to give a higher rating to that obscenely short dress than that other, knee length one because of the way your thighs squeeze when you sit. it’s definitely wrong of him to offer clasping your anklet, the one he’d gotten for you, the one that had been the dead giveaway to your secret online persona, just because your legs feel so soft against the rough pads of his fingers, when he resists the urge to trail upwards, upwards, upwards—
it’s fucking ridiculous.
he can’t believe just how deep of a rabbit hole finding one of your videos is, how it’s impossible to climb out and away, and even worse, how he keeps falling deeper. the one time he decides to jerk off to porn. it’s really ridiculous.
about a week ago, three weeks after finding that video of yours someone had uploaded— which had been taken down because of copyright, and hajime personally thinks that’s fair, considering there’s a reason you pay people to watch your videos and look through your photos, otherwise you would’ve taken the liberty to post everything for free yourself— hajime gives in, and subscribes to you. it’s with a randomized account name, something he tried his very best to make as anonymous as possible, so that it would in no way lead back to him. he doesn’t check in on your account as often, also having taken the time to turn off notifications and not have anything sent to his email, and it’s mostly out of shame. he already feels dirty enough having seen this much of you, even more that he’s fantasized about you. he’s not about to make it worse for himself.
every once in a while, though, especially days where he’s sure he’s completely free of responsibilities, he logs on, and finds your page. it just so happens that tonight, you’re hosting a live stream. swallowing his pride and shame, literally so, he shifts on his bed, sitting up straighter, and clicks to join.
he’d been a little late apparently, because you’re already bare, sitting on a chair. your legs are lifted up, knees bent and hooked over the chair’s arms, the camera angled to show everything, from your cute eyes to the flesh of your ass. there’s a vibrator in your hand, buzzing lightly as it hovers by your clit, dipping between your folds, sliding back up again to rub lazily at your clit. beneath you, on the chair, is a small damp spot, leaking from your cunt. hajime stops himself before his jaw falls slack at the sight of you, and instead, he clears his throat, gritting his teeth and watching carefully.
you’re not so talkative during your videos, just exclamations of pleasure and (the most beautiful of) noises, so he hadn’t expected you to be during your lives. to his surprise, you are, and it’s filthy.
whimpering lightly, you press the vibrator harsher on your clit, your other hand traveling up to squeeze at your breast. “m’so needy,” you admit with a soft pout, adding, “want you to tell me what to do, mmh.”
he’s assuming the ‘you’ is the audience, whoever’s willing to speak up, and it’s then that he notices the chat option. his eyes flicker curiously to it, hands twitching where they sit fisted at his lap as he sees the chat explode with orders and commands and suggestions for you.
one writes, stuff urself full, and hajime gapes.
another commands, wanna see u cry tn, and hajime privately agrees.
someone else writes, gonna squirt princess?
hajime’s hands twitch again, and he frowns, digging his nails into his palms. you’re ignoring all the suggestions, and it’s obvious because you’re reading through them, mouthing some of them, giggling at some, curiously gasping, ‘oh,’ at others, eyebrow quirking. the vibrator trails down to your hole again, and you experimentally dip it inside slightly, shivering visibly as the vibrations rush through you, and the moment he hears you moan so loud, he thinks, fuck it, and his hands reach for his keyboard.
fuck, fuck, fuck, he did not just do that.
his heart is racing embarrassingly fast beneath his ribcage, loud and pathetically deafening in his ears as he watches your eyes read through the rest of the messages, and you’ve stopped mouthing them, your eyes are widening— which one are you at now? are you just going to ignore him? why wouldn’t you? of course you—
“you’d like that, huh?” you teasingly slur, a lazy, cheeky grin painting your lips, your teeth biting down on your lower lip and your hand— your hand—
it’s trailing upwards, upwards, upwards, until it finds its way around your throat, resting lightly, and just as he sees your fingers squeeze at the sides of your neck slightly, carefully, you pout at the camera, looking straight at him, and asking, “like this, daddy?”
a low fuck wheezes past his lungs, and his hand quickly presses down at the bulge in his sweatpants, squeezing and rubbing at his clothed dick as he watches you, entranced. people watching you with him have taken to thanking him for the idea, and to praising you, calling you a good girl, cursing, rapidly typing out something along the lines of you’re so hot i wanna fuck you so bad, and god, hajime hates that he relates to something as stupid as that.
your hips roll and your head falls back, hand not once leaving your throat. if anything, your grip tightens. you click on the vibrator, and the buzzing becomes louder, your moans with it, as if you were competing. you cry and gasp and sob, writhing in your own hold, your thighs tensing and your hole clenching around nothing as you harshly rub the vibrator against your clit. your cunt gushes and drips as you bring yourself closer to your orgasm, as you cry out a string of, “m’gonna cum, so close, so close!” and a mixture of lewd curses, until finally, you cum. you’re sent over the edge, legs swinging on the chair, high pitched squeals falling from your lips— which hajime can’t decide are real or not, or whether he wants them to be or not. you thrash and cry, tears, as promised to some other watcher, dripping down your cheeks.
the last straw however, is your comedown from your high, sobs hiccuping and muscles twitching, eyes half closed and body limp as you mewl out, “hajime, hajime, hajime,” like you’re not even aware you’re doing it. like it’s subconscious.
hajime swears again, a deep, low, “fuck,” and looks down to find a damp spot on his lap. he really came from barely any friction, all because of you. this really is as ridiculous as it gets.
the next time he sees you, there are the faintest of bruises on your neck. it’s not so obvious that just anyone would notice, but ever since becoming hyperaware of everything that is you and everything that you do, it’s hard not to have them be the first thing he sees. to ensure that the atmosphere between the two of you remains easy, he flicks at your neck and tuts with a smirk, asking you jokingly if you were in your hoe phase.
“so vulgar, hajime,” you sarcastically retort, teasing him. “you like calling me mean things?” and he has to avert eye contact because all his walls crumble so quick.
it’s just the two of you tonight, in his apartment, all your other mutual friends having cancelled at one point or another. it’s not an unusual occurrence; more often than not, the two of you are alone. however, it’s been a while since you’d been alone, privately. a while meaning ever since hajime had discovered your side hustle of a sort. he hadn’t been purposely avoiding this— no, maybe he has, but to be fair, he’s still yet to recover from the initial shock.
it also doesn’t help that since today had meant to be a relaxing night in, you’re dressed casual, but in the hottest fucking way possible. he hopes he hadn’t been blushing as hard as he thinks, and feels, he was, when you’d first stepped into his home. on your hips is a short, black skirt, flowing out to your upper thighs, where just above your knees start a pair of dark thigh highs, squeezing at your thighs and accentuating your legs as you strut around his apartment, feet bare of any shoes or slippers. he can’t decide whether it’s cute or just plain hot. somehow, with you, it’s both. your shirt is off the shoulder, a dark, navy blue bardot, and beneath it, peeking out to rest at your collarbones, is a black bralette. he can barely just see the intricate lace designs, but it disappears and dips beneath your shirt before he can see more of it.
you’re spread out on the couch, laying along it on your stomach, a pillow tucked in your arms and beneath your head, your clothed legs bent and swinging up in the air. he sits right by you, thigh right by your head, his body as tense as ever. it’s impossible not to be you, not with you in such close proximity to him when only a few days ago he’d watched you make yourself cum, and had heard you whimper out his name after. who can blame him, really?
with your eyes trained on the screen, he hadn’t been expecting you to speak up.
“iwa, what type of porn do you watch?”
he nearly chokes, eyes widening as he spares you a glance. your legs continue to swing innocently, your eyes unmoving, your voice unwavering. the suddenness of the question certainly threw him off, but it’s your nonchalance that really shocks him. but, considering everything, it really shouldn’t have.
“uh, what?” he offers weakly, wincing slightly at the barely there crack in his voice.
you sigh, shifting to sit up. you plant yourself on your knees, spreading them apart slightly to get comfortable, and shrugging at him. “i’m just curious,” you say. “or,” your eyes squint cautiously, your head cocking to the side slightly, “do you not watch porn?”
challengingly, his arms lift up to cross at his chest, and he doesn’t miss the way your eyes momentarily glance at the way his biceps bulge. it makes his confidence spike slightly, nervousness ebbing away. “what type of porn do you watch?”
you gasp dramatically, joking, “take a girl out to dinner first, my god.” he laughs, relaxing lightly at the banter, before his eyes fall back to you. you inch forward curiously, cautiously, still on your knees. now closer to him, you ask again, “seriously, i’m really curious! confirm my suspicions for me.”
“oh?” he quirks an eyebrow. “so you think you know?”
at this, you offer him a knowing smile, eyes slightly half lidded. you’re somehow even closer now, leaning towards him with your hands resting on the small space between you and him in the couch, helping you in lifting yourself up slightly on your knees as you say in a low voice, “baby, i think everyone knows.”
at the sight of you by his side, he feels himself shiver, and an idea invades his mind before he can even process it. “oh, do you now?” he’s not sure where this boldness is emerging from, especially with how cautious and shameful he’d been and felt for weeks now, but he accepts it either way, because the way you’re staring at him like that, he never wants to let it go. and although he wants to drag out this intense eye contact even longer, in order to do what he wants to do, he has to break it, reaching for his phone instead. unable to contain your curiosity, you peak over, watching with confusion as he types out a link.
the blood drains from your face when you recognize your page on his browser, and he’s logged on— he’s subscribed.
“what type of porn do i like to watch?” he wonders rhetorically. the phone is pushed aside, and he sits up straighter so that even on your knees, he looms over you. his eyes are skimming over you, along your body, up to your neck, to your lips, to your shocked, wide eyes. and just as his hand trails up to your throat, his palm resting at the base and one finger tapping lightly, he says, “the type where my favorite girl cries out my name when she cums for the world to see.”
the hand around your throat—
“you,” you breathe out, and finally, finally, when your brain makes sense of everything, your body relaxes, sags against him, leaning more into him until his hand’s properly wrapped around your throat.
with your mind hazing over, you reach over, and kiss him.
he meets you halfway, as if having expected it, lips pressing harshly against his. his hand tightens as he pulls you closer, lifting you up slightly and bringing you closer to him as his mouth parts, breathing you in, and kissing you deeper, lewder. you shiver and gasp, hands grasping at his wrist and forearm, not to push him away but rather to urge him closer, as you kiss him back just as eagerly. it seems like hours, with his hand around your neck, tight and a daunting reassurance, and your lips wet and hot against his, but eventually, his hand slides down, the other mirroring it, finding their way to your waist, squeezing and bunching at the skirt as he, with complete and utter and shocking ease, lifts you up off the couch.
you gasp as he stands up with you, your legs quickly wrapping around his waist as he pulls you to him. as he blindly walks the two of you to his bedroom, he breathlessly asks in between your kisses, “is this— you sure this is okay?”
with a sharp tug at his hair, you jokingly spit out, “iwa shut up.”
he tosses you onto the bed, allowing you a minute to strip yourself of your shirt while he slips out of his own, before quickly falling above you, caging you in with his arms as he kisses you again. “not iwa,” he quietly asks of you.
for a moment you’re confused, before everything clicks again— your slip ups— and your legs lift up, wrapping around his waist and pulling his hips closer to yours just as you mewl out, “hajime, please.”
god, he is way easier than he thought he was.
his entire body shudders above you, one hand lowering to push at your skirt to grind his hips down against yours until his clothed crotch meets your bare cunt and— holy fuck, holy fuck.
“fuck, you slut.”
you gasp at both his words and the feel of his bulge pressing down against your clit, his lips meeting your neck instead. “you do like calling me mean things,” you say, and he scoffs, his hand traveling upwards to squeeze at your breasts instead.
“you like me calling you mean things,” he notes, and you let out a muffled moan as he pinches at your nipples through the bralette, lips biting and sucking at your neck.
“i do,” you pant, arching up into him. “i do, i do.” his hands are fumbling at your chest, and god, they’re so large, so big and warm and harsh, it’s fogging up your brain.
“yeah, yeah, fucking whore,” he growls, pushing himself slightly on his knees, hands tugging at the bralette. his fingers dip past, gripping the fabric tightly, and as he says, “can’t fucking— take this shit— off,” he tears through it, knuckles whitening as he pulls it away from your body, or what’s left of it. the frills of the ruined bra fall off the edge of his bed, and he watches your wide eyes and gaping mouth follow it, so he grabs at your jaw, twisting your gaze away from it and grunting a low, “shut up.”
you pull away from the kiss, breathing heavily as you say, “that was so fucking hot, hajime,” before kissing him again. he parts his mouth as you lead him to you again, tongue easily meeting yours.
it’s a messy kiss as he slips himself out of his sweatpants, taking his boxers with it and discarding them somewhere in his room. his cock slaps against his stomach, a single string of precum messily staining his tan abs. your eyes are quick to gaze down, lips painted a dazzling grin as his hand finds his cock, squeezing at the head and smearing his precum along.
“knew you were fucking big,” you gasp, eyes trained on him as he strokes himself above you, and he is. he’s so big, thick and heavy, and veiny and your mouth waters at how that’s going to feel when inside of you, stretching you out so good, so much better than any of the toys you had at home. “i thought,” a squeal hiccups out of you as both of his hands grab at your hips from beneath your skirt, one sticky and warmer than the other, “about you all the time.”
your confession draws his attention, and when he’s pulled you close enough, two of his fingers trail to your cunt, quirking an, “oh?” just as he dips his fingers inside. the lack of resistance he’s met with is surprising, and he chokes out, “did you stretch yourself out before coming here? fuck yourself on some fake cock?”
tightlipped, you moan, brows furrowed and back arched into him. god, his fingers were not enough. “yes, yes,” you gasp, head falling back. despite not needing to, he still fingers you, his thick digits fucking into you slowly, driving you insane by the second. “yes, i— pretended t’was you,” you whine loudly. at your words, he curls his fingers inside of you, twisting his wrist and pressing his palm directly on your clit.
“do you always?” he lowly asks, dipping closer to you as he fucks his fingers deeper. his fingers were inside of you, the cunt he’d spent over a month marveling at through a screen, the pretty pussy his dick had drooled over for hours. you’re real, as real as ever beneath him falling apart, making a mess of your black skirt, drenching it with your arousal.
you moan out a hum, nodding dumbly as his fingers vibrate with the intensity of speed inside of you, your toes curling in your thigh highs and face twisting to press into his mattress. “always,” you cry out, like a promise. “always think of you— hajime!”
it’s an unexpected orgasm, hitting you so fast and quick that it’s outright dizzying. it has you lifting your hips up into his fingers and palm, grinding and trembling, your legs falling and spreading open, shaking wildly by your side and above you as he fucks you through the orgasm.
“hajime, hajime, hajime,” you chant, words trailing off into tiny sobs and shuddering breaths as your hips slowly fall back onto the bed, body still trembling with aftershocks.
you’re fucked out beyond words already that you genuinely don’t feel a thing until he’s pressing inside of you, the fat head of his cock stretching you out. he’s really no match for your toys, and if seeing him hadn’t been enough confirmation, the feel of him pressing inside of you definitely is. he doesn’t ease himself in slowly, urgently grabbing the back of your thighs with either hand, keeping your legs spread for him as he bottoms out.
“fuck, fuck, knew you’d feel so good,” he grunts, brows furrowed harshly as he digs his fingers deeper against the flesh of your thighs, forcing your legs closer to your chest, and somehow pushing himself even deeper within you. you whine and mewl, toes curling and uncurling and legs trembling. “knew it the moment i saw your pretty pussy creamin’ around that thick cock.”
at the reminder that he’s watched and witnessed you, multiple times, that he’s subscribed to you willingly and curiously, you clench down around him. you feel him twitch inside of you, groaning loudly as he falls closer to you, your legs falling to his waist.
“you like knowing i was watching you?” he sneers, his hand reaching up and gripping at your face, squishing your cheeks and forcing a pout on your lips. your eyes nearly fucking cross as he rams into you, his fingers digging into your jaw. “you like that i fucked my fist every night to you? to your pretty cunt and your pretty noises and your pretty face— yes, good girl, that one.”
your eyes do cross this time, spurred on by his words, your tongue peaking out through the small gap he allows with how harsh he’s gripping your face. he’s pushing out little mewls and cries from you, but otherwise, you quite honestly feel braindead.
“fuck, you’re a gorgeous little slut,” he gasps. “all mine to fuck and use.”
you’re quick to nod rapidly, whining and moaning for him as you grip at his biceps. you’re choking on your breath as you struggle to keep up with him while he fucks you into the mattress, so fucking hard and rough that you’re sure there’ll be an indentation of you once you leave. you can feel your cunt gushing, and you can hear it too, squelching loudly with every thrust of his hips, every time his cock fucks into you. your skirt feels sticky and gross, and so does the rest of you, but you’ve never, never, felt this euphoric, this blissed out.
your stomach tightens impossibly, the tension gradually increasing as your walls tightly squeeze and clench at his cock. slowly and surely, the pressure within you increases, your hands flying to hajime’s arm, the arm whose hand grips your face, which quickly moves to your throat at your simple gasping warning that you were close.
“gonna cum, gonna cum, hajime, fuck!”
he tightens his grip, pressing harsher on the sides of your neck as your eyes shut tightly, your head falling back once more.
“yeah, come on, show me how pretty you look cumming on a real cock,” he whispers by your ear, using the hand that’s around your throat to lift up your head, before roughly pushing it back down, squeezing tighter. “you like it this rough?— shit, shit, you’re tightening.”
you scream, voice cracking and broken as he slams into you again, his hips grinding against yours momentarily, pelvis hitting your clit— and you’re gone, thrashing in his hold, fat tears streaming down your cheeks as you sob and heave, your body shaking uncontrollably beneath him, hips shaking as your orgasm rocks through you. it’s not a few seconds later that he’s spilling inside of you, accidentally pressing his palm down against your throat as he cums, blocking your airway momentarily.
“hngh,” he gasps deeply, cock twitching inside of you as he cums, hips barely grinding. you’re gasping, a little painfully, struggling to take in any air as he blinks dazedly, before he finally takes notice. “shit, shit, i’m sorry.”
his hand flies away from your throat, and you inhale sharply, coughing lightly as air fills your lungs all too suddenly. the strength of this man, holy fuck.
“i’m so sorry; are you okay?”
chest still heaving, you fall onto the bed, body relaxing as you try and regulate your breathing. “s’okay, i’m okay,” you reassure him, hands reaching up to pat at his cheeks and comb through his messy, sweaty hair.
he leans forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead, and it’s so endearing that you nearly forget he’s still inside of you. but you feel the shift of his cock, feel his cum slowly start to ooze out of your cunt, and he winces from the oversensitivity, shifting away to instead pull out of you. his soft cock falls from your cunt, a steady flow of his cum following. hajime has to physically resist from reaching out to fuck it back into you.
“i’m sorry i wasn’t careful ‘nough with the—“ he makes a gesture with his hands around his neck, “—the choking.”
you laugh lightly, tiredly, hands slowly caressing at his sweaty biceps. “stop apologizing,” you reassure him again, shrugging with a small smile as you add, “just be more careful next time.”
his breath gets caught in his chest, and he only softly exhales when he falls on the bed, to your side, carefully repeating, “next time.”
from beside him, you lift yourself up on your side on your elbow, palm cradling your head, trying your best not to wince in pain. “hajime?”
he spares you a glance as he mumbles, “hm?” opting to stare at the ceiling and contemplate whether what had just happened was real life or not.
“do you wanna do a video with me?”
he all but chokes.
end note; please this took me like 4+ hours. please please please don’t flop, and more importantly, i really hope i don’t disappoint. i know this has been a long awaited piece, so i’m praying and hoping you guys love it.
love you all, mwah <3
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omg bestie i have one so u can chris x reader obv and u can do that the reader goes to the mall and goes into vs and buys lingerie and she try it on in the fitting rooms and snaps a picture of it while she's wearing it and she sends it like 'do u like it baby or daddy' and then he's like wait to u come home and add in that smut ifykyk
hehehehehheheh that's a good one😏 though I gonna change it to ransom because i dont write rpf anymore but oooooo this is gonna be fun 😏😏😏 I tweaked a little something something soooo... enjoy~ and oops it is now a one shot lmao
You Love Teasing Me
Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x f!Reader
Word Count: ~1.4K
warnings: 18+, swearing, sexting (kind of), smut (sir kink, spanking, tit squeezing, male oral receiving, spitting on cock, blow job, hand job, balls sucking, deepthroating, gagging, cum playing/licking, cum on chest), NSFW, explicit sexual content and language, minors DNI
While you were standing in front of the mirror in the fitting room of VS, you were trying on this lace button-front teddy that would look absolutely amazing with the little black skirt and the little white maid apron that you have at home. You could already imagine Ransom's face when he sees it, his lips would turn into a crooked smirk and his eyes would darken while eyeing you from your pretty face and down to your bare legs.
But, you wanted to tease him, especially when he is at Harlan's house. So, you decided to snap a couple pictures in the fitting room and sent them to your dear boyfriend: there was one that was showcasing your bare back and the lace panties hugging your ass cheeks perfectly, and there's a bird-eye view that focused on the collar and the button-front with your arm modestly, but yet sensually, covering your bare titties.
"Do you like it, babe?"
You sent the text with the pictures and the dot dot dot typing bubble almost showed up immediately, which made you grin at your screen.
"WTF I'm at Harlan's..."
"I'm leaving rn, jesus baby, you better come home in the next 15 or I'm coming to that fitting room and gonna fuck you there"
He sent the text one after the other, and you wondered what excuse he used to leave Harlan's house in a hurry.
"Yes, sir... 😏"
Without a second thought, you texted back with a cheeky smile and you quickly get dressed and paid for the teddy before heading home.
When you got home, Ransom's beemer was nowhere to be seen; but you knew it wouldn't take him long to come home from Harlan's, so you quickly got into the house, changed into your newly purchased teddy and put on your black skirt and apron before you scurried down to the living room just as you heard his car outside.
You picked up the tablecloth and bent over as you pretended to wipe the table with your ass facing the front door and letting whoever walks in get a perfect view of your plump ass and your lace panties.
Hearing a low growl and a curse, you smirked to yourself while you felt Ransom's presence getting closer, the smell of his cologne getting stronger with each step he took. And finally, he was pressing his chest against your back with his head on your shoulder, an arm wrapped around your body with his left-hand cupping and squeezing your right tit.
"You just love teasing me, don't you?" he whispered, biting on your ear lobe while his right hand bunched up your skirt at your waist, exposing your full bum before he smacked down hard on your right cheek.
You let out a breathy sigh when the spank stung a little and your head fell backwards onto his shoulder. "Yes, sir... more please..." you moaned as you pushed yourself back onto his crotch, trying to get as close to him as you could, so that you could grind your ass on his clothed bulge like the tease that you were.
But he held you tighter, kept you from squirming and grinding your ass on him. "Hmmm... you know there are consequences for teasing me, hmm? or is that what you really want? you love being punished and getting spanked and used, huh? well... maybe this time you will have to earn it..." he spoke through his gritted teeth as he spun you around, getting a good look of your front and your titties, kissing you hungrily before ordering you to get on your knees and sit on your heels.
Your muscle memories brought your hands straight to his belt and fly, undoing them like you have done a million times before you pulled his angry dripping cock out from its constraint. You eagerly grabbed a hold onto his cock as you stuck your tongue out, looking up at him as you inched closer to run his tip onto your tongue, moving his bulbous tip side to side before using the tip of your tongue to tease his slit.
He watched you intensely, breathing heavily while you wrapped your lips around his crown, sucking it gently as your hand start to pump his length. By propping yourself up higher and getting your bum up from your heels, you guided his cock towards your tits, rubbing and brushing his tip and cock against your nipples and bosom as you spat and made his cock catch your saliva. And your hand didn't wait another second before stroking and lubing him up with your own spit.
Putting him back into your warm and velvety mouth, you flattened your tongue as you sucked and licked, tracing the vein on his underside with your tongue while you watched his head fell back in pleasure. You bobbed your head vigorously, making your tits bounce freely, slurping him up as your hand jerked and pumped the rest of his cock. His tangy taste was so addictive that it made you want more and more.
"Mmmmhmmm" you hummed at the feel and the taste of him, the moan reverberated in your mouth and sending vibrations through his cock.
"Fuuuuuck..." he cursed, threading his hand through your hair while holding onto the back of your head, pushing himself deeper into your mouth and held you in place with his hand. "That's it, baby..."
Pulling off him with a gasp, you took a big gulp of air before you held his cock upwards, licking his balls left and right before you sucked one into your mouth. You pumped him up and down as your lips suck his balls in pulses, massaging them one after the other with equal attention, making Ransom groan loudly from above.
You smirked proudly before you peppered kisses up his swollen cock, and then swallowed him whole until his throbbing tip hit the back of your throat, stuffing your mouth full and feeling just how perfectly he fitted in your mouth.
Ransom squeezed and tightened his fingers on your hair, tilting your head up slightly so that he could shove his cock down your throat a little more, holding you in place while making you gag. You held him in as long as you could before your throat narrowed and pushed him out, coughing a bit when he pulled out, and drool was dripping down the corner of your mouth as a string of saliva lingered between your lips and his cock.
"Good girl..." he praised after a moan, moving his hand from your head to your cheek before he rested his thumb on your bottom lip, and you reflexively started sucking on his thumb while you worked on his throbbing cock.
He was getting warmer and warmer, and you knew he was close when he began thrusting his hip and fucking himself into your hand. "Hnnnhnng ahhhh fuck...." he sighed continuously until his voice got caught in his throat, and your hand was stroking him so quickly that your movements were a blur.
You pumped your chest out as you got up from your heels once more, pointing his cock at your tits while jerking him off with earnest, and it didn't take long for his balls to twitch and his body to jolt. He came with a deep groan while ropes of his hot and creamy spent landed on your tits, and some on your lace button-front and collar.
And then the room was just filled with the two of you panting. You sucked his cock into your mouth one last time, making sure you suck everything out of him and not letting a drop wasted on the floor before you smiled sweetly up at him; and you wiped his cum off your chest with your fingers and smeared it back onto his cock and licked it clean from base to tip.
"Did I earn my spankings, sir?" you asked him almost innocently.
And he was in a fucking daze and panting very heavily while looking down at you, "jesus fucking christ...." he sighed, "you sure did, baby... now bend over my lap and let me take a good look at that ass in those lacy panties..."
A/N: this literally went so differently when I first started lmaooo
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Summary: Being Sarah’s best friend brings many good thinks but is having a Crush on her brother one of them?
words: like 1.9 k
The Obx plot dosen’t happend so no cocaine no gold and he is just a normal Teenager
This is my first real Story and smut so YEAH and englisch is not my first language so YEAH anyway have fun ig BYE
Being Sarah’s Best Friend is fun until you develop a crush on her older brother.
But I mean how could you not he is hot, charming, tall literally everything you could want in a guy.
Everything was fine until well it wasn’t. Normally you were able to brush your feelings under the surfice and act normal around him because you were not ready for Sarah to kow because you didn’t wanted to get teased about your Crush.
So like I said everything was fine until Today.
Today this big Party at Toppers house and as Sarah’s best friend she obviously wanted you to come with her which was completely fine with you.
So you were getting ready at Sarah’s House. She wore a tight baby pink dress with sneaker and you wore a black tight mini dress which just barely covert your ass with black heals.
Then we went over to Topper’s house and now here we are standing in front of Toppers house.
“God I don’t think this is a good idea Sarah” you say.
You can here the loud music from outside the house and see all the People on the front Porch with drinks in their hands.
“Come on bub. Everything is going to be just fine.” Sarah says over the musicand chatter.
“I just have a bad feeling” you tell her while looking outside for Rafe’s Truck.
“We don’t have to be here that long but we promised Topper to show up.” she told you while taking one of your hands.
“Fine I guess.”
And with that she dragged you inside where you could see people everywhere dancing drinking and snogging. It wasen’t really your type of party. You preferred Keggers where it wasen’t so crouded and you could have your personal space.
“Let’s go to the Kitchen Topper said he would be there.” Sarah near to sreamed so you could hear her over the loud music.
“Yeah sure lets go”
You scanned the crowd in the foyer in hopes of seeing Rafe but no luck.
As you walked in the kitchen you could already see Topper holding a red Solo cup.
“Hey Girls. How are you” Topper said as he spotted you two.
“Good thanks nice Party” Sarh says while she hugges Topper.
“Hi Top” you say while giving him a hug too.
“You two look great.”
“Thanks Topper. Do you happen to know where my brother is?” Sarah asked while I was just looking around.
“He should be in the living Room. Do you want a cup?”
“No thanks but Sarah wants one.” I said.
“I will just look around a little bit. I will catch up with you later.” I said.
“Sure have fun!” They said at the same time.
I made my way trough to the croud to the living room where I saw it. Rafe wearing black suit pants and a white button down having a girl sitting in his lap while he plays with her hair and laughs at something she said. I swear I felt my heart breaking. Tears swelled up in my eyes but I refused to let them out.
Then he looked around the room and his eyes fell on me. He looked me up and down before he looked at my face again and smirked at me. I looked away and made my way back to the kitchen where I saw a tequila bottle standing on the counter. I looked around but saw no sign of Sarah and Topper so I just grabbed the bottle and made my way to the dance floor. Because I’m not gonna let Rafe ruin my night.
A BOTTLE OF TIQUILA LATER and a few pissed looks at Rafe...
I am dancing in the middle of the dance floor when I feel two strong hands on my waist. As I look up I see Rafe starring down at me.
“I think you had enough of this.” he said while taking the near to empty bottle out of my hand.
“Whatever just let me dance and go back to your date.” I said slightly annoyed because he will not let me have a fun time.
“No you will come with me I will bring you back to our house. The boys around here are literlly undressing you with your eyes and your wasted. I don’t want you to do something you will regret in the morning. So please just let me take you home.”
“I can’t I promised Sarah to be here with her.” I said.
“I already spoke with her. Please?” He said while taking one of my hand in his.
“Okay but I can walk myself.” I say while pulling my hand out of his grip.
“Sure if You say so” he said amused with my behavior.
As I was walking outside I was feeling his eyes on me so I began swinging my hips a little bit. I heard him mutter something under his breath. I saw his Truck so I just opened the passenger seat got buckeled up nd looked out of the window.
I heard Rafe opening the driver side of the car and sitting down. “How are you feeling?” he asked me before startening the car.
“I am feeling fine but can I have the watter:” I said as I looked at his side of the car and saw a water bottle.
“What do you say when you want something Princess?” he asked me. I had the urge to piss him off so I just leaned over in my short dress and took the bottle. As I was about to drink he grabbed my Throat turned my head in his direction and said “Now that is not very nice now is it Princess. So I am gonna give you another chance. Be a good girl and say the magic word and everything is forgotten or be a bad girl and see what happens.
I stared at him and thought about it. With the watter bottle in my hand I could be a bad girl see what happens or be a good girl and make him happy. Him having his hand around my throat turned me more on than I would like to admit so I pressed my tights together which didn’t went unnoticed with him.
He gave my throat a little squeze and said “What is it gonna be hm pretty Girl?”
I looked him in the eyes took the water bottle down and asked “Can I please have the water bottle?” “Good Girl. Yes you can have it and you are gonna get a little reward.” he said.
“Really wh-” I was cut off by his lips comming down on mine. I was caught of guard by a second but then kissed him back. He pulled back way to early for my liking so I gave out a little whine as a sign of protest. I had my eyes still closed when I heard him laugh.
I opend my eyes and looked at him through my eyelashes and he said “If you are going to coninue being a good girl you will get anohter reward.” “Yes I am going to be a good girl please!” “Thats my Girl” I swear I felt Butterflies in my stomach as he said that.
He putted his hand on my Thigh and began driving home. The ride there was very quit. I could see him looking at me from the corner of his eyes and began smilling.
As soon as we drove in the drive way he got out of the car came to the passenger side of the car and helped me out. He helped me up the stairs and as soon as he closed the door I was pressed against it.
He locked the door looked at me and asked “Are you sure you want this?” I nooded he shook his head and said “I need words princess.” he said. “Yeah I am sure.” I said looking in his eyes and with that his lipes came smashing down on mine. I moaned into his lips. He helped me out of my heels and held the hem of my dress and asked “Can I?” I nooded but then sais “yes” after I rememberd he wants me to use my words.
He took of my dress and looked at my breast because I haven’t woren a bra just a black lace thong.
“God you are beauitiful.” He said. I then took of his shirt. He picked me up and laid me on down on his Bed.
He asked if I am sure on more Time which I responded to with a Yes. He took of his Pants so that he was just in his boxers and took of my Thong. He smirked s he saw how wet I was and said “wow you are soacked.” with a smirk on his face.
I was about to say something but was cut of with a moan when a finger entered me sudenly.
“Yeah you like my fingers in your thight ittle cunt don’t you” “God yes please dont stop. Mhh”
He entered another finger and placed his thumb on my clit making me Moan. “God, I am close!” “Yeah? Then be a good girl and come for me” and with that I came on his hand. “Yeah thats right. I got you.” He said as I was riding out my high.
Then he asked me “Do you wanna continiue? I don’t want you to feel like you have to do something:” “No I want you. All of you. 100 %” I said looking him directly in the eyes with a smie on my face.
He smiled down at me gave me a kiss on the forehead and grabed a condom wrab it before you tap it from the drawer pulled down his boxers and rolled the condom down his hard dick.
I was intimidated to say at least I mean I had sex before but he was good 7 to 8 inches which scared me a little because the guys from before where definetly smaller than him.
He looked down and asked “Are you ready?” “Yeah” I said and pulled his face down to kiss him.
He entered me and i moaned in his mouth which made him smirk. He groaned then said “God you are so tight Pricess. You were made for me and my dick God you feel so good rabed around my dick.” I moaned and nodded my Head.
He grabed my Throat with his hand and squezed a little at the sides which made me moan and throw my head my head back with his fast trustes. I squezed him “You are close aren’t you pretty girl yeah come on cum for me I know you are there I am right behind me” And with that I came and relased a near to pornographic moan. He then came and rode us both trough our highs.
He collapsed on Top of me. Both of us panting and gasping for air.
After a few minutes he pulled out putted the condom in the trash and then cleaned me up all while I just had my eyes closed and had a lazy smile on my face.
He helped me put on one of his shirts and laid down with me in just his boxers and pulled me intohis chest.
“God I love you” I said in his chest. I didn’t thought he heard but then he said “I love you too princess” kissed my Forehead one more time and then I fell asleep with the biggest smile on my face.
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Foreshadowing? Possible Theory/Easter Egg????
Okay because I'm trying to cope with the fact that we are going to be in hiatus for god knows how long I wanna talk about the other theory/easter egg/type of foreshadowing? I saw in today's rollercoaster of an episode which involves these guys
This really revolves around the The girl in the black dress (voiced by Grey Griffin!!) and the guy in the purple shirt, who is actually voiced by Zeno Robinson (for those who don't know, Hunter's voice actor!)
When I first found out Purple Shirt was voiced by Zeno, this made me wonder if the any of the things Black Dress said to him before Vee joins them held any weight or related to Hunter.
Black Dress gives Purple Shirt a reading with the cards and says:
"A past connection that left its mark on your soul has shown up again and is asking you to shed your old ways and enter a metamorphasis and become the spiritual leader you're meant to be"
To which Purple shirt goes: "Sounds about right"
The reading does fit the arc Hunter's character is on (as of right now, and I say that because I don't trust this show). Someone/something trying to get him to leave the emperors coven, change for the better and join the good side.
I was still confused as to what (or who) the "past connection" was, and I realized that maybe the past connection could be Little Rascal (That is, if we're running with the theory that LR belonged to Philip, and that the DNA used to clone Hunter was Philip's).
Little Rascal acts like some sort of moral compass for Hunter, and tries to push him towards the people that can (eventually) help him. For example, in Eclipse Lake, LR throws off Hunter's plan of following behind Amity, King, and Eda by dragging him down and forcing him to interact with them face to face.
LR also hesitates to follow Hunter when he tricks Amity and knocks her down (before going to make sure he's alright)
Also in the same episode, LR tries to pull Hunter up by his cape but then moves to Amity's shoulder when she extends her hand to him (symbolism!!)
By moving closer to Hunter when he makes a good desicion and moving further away when he makes a bad one, Little Rascal is trying to get him to "shed his old ways" and join the others where he knows he'll have a better life.
This makes so much sense in my head but I can't articulate it very well so uhh I hope I managed to get my point across
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— RYOMEN SUKUNA || LET ME MARK YOU THEN
↳ featuring : ryomen sukuna from jujutsu kaisen
↳ warnings : mention of sex, mention of hickeys and grammar issues
↳ form : imagine
↳ published : 22 january
↳ pronouns : she/her
↳ word count : 3.7k
↳ synopsis : (modern!AU) after your lectures, you decided to pay your tattoo artist boyfriend a little visit only to then be persuaded to let him draw a tattoo design on you even though you never actually wanted a real one to be marked with.
↳ barista’s notes : just a little gift to you all before today’s episode and the reset the ‘coffees in progress’ list (wip) when i get enough sleep and after my disgusting online classes, i hope you enjoy the free cup of coffee everyone ʕ•ᴥ•ʔﾉ♡ - also i feel like this is the longest imagine i have ever posted ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ
Having a morning full of tedious lectures was not someone’s ideal day and it was definitely not yours. Although, there was nothing you could do but pursue them through with as much enthusiasm and determination that you could possibly muster while being impatient about the hands on the clock taking forever to move a single inch.
However, at this moment in time, you were able to escape the suffocating lecture hall after many hours for today and was now walking down the busy streets of Tokyo with a white plastic takeaway bag in one hand while the other was occupied with your tote bag that was resting on your shoulder, which surprisingly kept hold of some of your textbooks as well as your laptop giving you some reassurance that the bag that your boyfriend gave you was going to last for quite some time.
Looking around the busy quarter of the capital, you began to notice a few high school students roaming about here and there with some hanging out with their friends - mostly likely going to a cafe or to the nearest karaoke lounge that they could find - while other were either rushing home as they entered the station or to their part-time jobs that they had managed to obtain for a few extra bucks to save up for their next step in life. Noticeably, there were also a few adults out and about with some working as street-food vendors selling delicious treats that you would be craving if you weren’t so full while others were dressed extremely professional with their laptops out on their cafe/restaurant table to what seemed like they were on their lunch break.
‘He should be on his lunch break right now, but if not, I’ll just put his food in the shop’s fridge’
Continue walking to your destination, you finally reached to a quieter area with the city leading you to then stand in front of a glass order with a ‘closed’ sign in front along with another extremely noticeable sign proudly stating ‘Malevolent Shine’ to which if you had said that to any tattoo fanatic within Japan, they would instantly know what you were talking about.
Opening the door, there was a sudden noise of a ring being heard leading you to immediately look up to see the silver bell that you told him to arrange since he always got annoyed about the number of potential clients popping up without his acknowledgement only to tell him that they didn’t book an appointment at all causing him to become more irritated - and as a matter of fact, you couldn’t blame him at all.
Looking around the tattoo shop that you had entered, there wasn’t a single person in sight leading you to come to the conclusion that you were right about his lunch break since his assistant would be at the front desk if they weren’t. Although there was no one to greet you, the dark atmosphere did. It gave an odd sense of comfort with its hints of red that could calm a customer down if they were worried about the tattoo they were committing to having on their body or if it was their first - especially when it came to him.
“Oya~ ain’t you a sexy customer? But I’m afraid we’re closed, but I don’t mind giving you a private session if you want, kitten” someone smoothly stated, leading your eyes to slowly shift to the person who was leaning against the desk with a confident smirk on his face. There he was, the mastermind behind the whole shop itself.
“Well, I’m not coming in for a tattoo but I am here to give a little gift, Sukuna,” you mischievously stated, as you lifted the white bag with the takeaway you had ordered for the man himself, leading him to look at you in surprised before tilting his head indicating you to come to the back with him.
Following his lead, you placed the bag on his table once you reached the backroom before placing your tote on the floor beside the table’s leg so it didn’t fall, letting any of your precious studious contents to be lost as well as avoiding any damage to your laptop.
“I’m surprised you’re using the bag, kitten,” Sukuna suddenly commented, as he sat on his chair while pulling out the white styrofoam box of Thai food that he always ordered along with a bento box that was wrapped in a black cloth.
“Well, how could I not? You did buy it for me,” you quietly mentioned as you took off your black longline coat before placing it behind your chair since there was nowhere else to put it.
“Did you make this?” Sukuna quickly questioned as he lifted the bento box causing you to nod at his question once you saw what he meant leading you to state, “I didn’t know if you were going to stay back tonight, so I prepared some food for you in case,” causing Sukuna to smirk since you were right about your assumption and it did catch him by surprise since he didn’t mention it to you today when he left your shared apartment.
“Thanks,” he quietly muttered before pulling his chair closer towards you so he could place a lingering kiss on your cheek to show his appreciation towards you. “How was class?” he then asked, as he began to unwrap the cloth of the box to your surprise since you bought his favourite item from the Thai restaurant but made no mention of it.
“Annoying, it was suffocating in there but the lecture was interesting so that’s a plus,” you answered, as you began to scan his messy desk that displayed the many drawings that he was working on. Some of the designs that Sukuna was drawing were almost complete, while others were in the same situation but for some odd reason, it was crossed out as if he was unsatisfied with the outcome that it was going to have which lead you to be perplexed since some of the drawings were incredibly detailed and beautiful. However, you didn’t have the eyes of an artist like your boyfriend did, instead, you had the eyes of someone that was able to analyse things exceedingly well hence why you decided to pursue a career as a criminal lawyer.
“How has the shop been while I was away?” you asked, as you carefully picked up one of the designs that the tattoo artist seemed to have scraped leading him to answer with an annoyed huff. “A pain, there’s been so many dumbass people coming in thinking they could just walk in and get a tattoo done immediately without even booking a meeting,” Sukuna answered before taking a bite of the soy-glazed fried chicken you made as he then continued with, “it was a good idea to get the bell since I could see if it was a customer I knew or not,”.
Looking at your boyfriend, you couldn’t help but smile at the man as he continuously munched the context in the box as if he hadn’t eaten in the past week when in reality he had been raiding the fridge back home only just this morning. Slowly, you turn your head back to the paper that you were holding as you continued to admire the work of art right in front of you.
To be honest, it was quite simple compared to all the other ones that were lying about on his work desk but that didn’t mean it wasn’t beautiful. The light sketch depicted a short section of a branch or stem decorated with different types of beautiful flowers and next to it was the same design with the only difference of it being coloured lightly in case the client wanted to have options.
“What happened here?” you asked before tilting the paper to the side, letting Sukuna have a glance at the design he decided to discard.
“Oh, the client cancelled since I wouldn’t have sex with her,” Sukuna casually stated leading you to nod before taking another look at the design with a small smile on your face. Sadly, it was such a waste since the design was beautiful and it was disappointing to not see Sukuna put this beautiful art into life.
Some people might wonder why you were so calm about the statement he had just given you, heck even his younger twin brother Itadori Yuji thought it was weird that it didn’t bother you as much as other girls would have been. The reason was that you were so used to him having female attention as well as male attention and it wasn’t a surprise when people would book an appointment with him just for a fling or hoping for something more than just that - and even though you were calm, there was also a hint of jealousy and fear within your heart that you couldn’t help.
It was like the first time you saw him in your second year of high school.
Stretching your arms, you had finally finished the last sheet of the budgets for the school clubs leading you to carefully clip the pile of sheets into the folder as you then stood up from your desk before quickly heading out of your homeroom, so you could give the documents to the student council president, who was a third-year within your school.
However, as you were walking past a few classrooms with some people greeting you with a smile, you came to a sudden halt when you saw a whole crowd of female and males students in front of you leading to a blockage of the halls and a blockage of the classroom you need to go through to hand the documents to your senior.
“Did you hear, I heard he was back?!”
“I can’t believe he’s back, I missed him so much!”
“I like Yuji’s kind and goofy personality, but how could you not love a bad boy like him?”
Carefully, you managed to find a gap between the sea of students and forcibly made yourself fit within the gap before badly struggling to make it through the arc of the classroom door leading you to nearly trip the second you got the chance to push through the gap to ender the class. Quickly looking around, you found your senior sitting next to someone who looked like your friend and basketball club member Itadori Yuji - well more like a mature replicant of the boy you were used to. However, unbothered by the sudden appearance of the new third-year, you speedily made your way to the council president and handed him the booklet that he needed today leading you to receive his gratitude.
Yet, before you could even take a single step away from your senior, you unexpectedly felt someone grab your wrist causing you to quickly turn around to find Itadori’s replica behind you leading to a few gasps coming from the students from the outside as well as in the homeroom.
“Is there an issue?” you firmly asked, as you looked down at his hand that had a tight grip on your wrist causing you to have a small glance at the two black bands that were tattooed around his wrist - even though it was prohibited to have any in your school, you weren’t the type to scold someone for having them since you weren’t sure on how the teacher’s thought it affected someone’s education.
“Have you ever thought about getting a tattoo?” the salmon-haired third-year curiously asked, as he began to admire your wrist by gently turning it for your veins to come into view before beginning to trace your skin with the tip of his thumb causing a light shiver to go down your spine due to the ticklish feeling as well as his deep voice which was the complete opposite to what you thought it was going to be.
‘So this is the infamous Sukuna everyone was talking about’
“Not really,” you answered as you looked at him causing his eyes to look back at you before you continued with “I don’t think it would suit me at all,”.
“I disagree,” Sukuna counteracted, as he went back to admire the blank canvas of your wrist that he wanted to draw on so badly. No not draw. Mark. “I think you’ll suit something, maybe something on your neck or collarbone at best actually,” Sukuna mentioned leading you to give him a confused expression before he then proceeded with his speech by saying, “I’ll convince you one day and mark you brat”,
“Ah...good luck with that idiot,” you stated in an annoyed tone leading to a few of the admiring student to gasp at your wording as well as sudden confident as they were scared on what was going to happen to you now since Sukuna wasn’t the type to tolerate insults in a nice way no matter what gender you were. However, exceeding the audience’s assumptions, Sukuna began to smirk excitedly at your attitude as he suddenly found you more interesting than any other girl he has met at the back of the school.
“Be prepared, little kitten”
Back then Sukuna was known to be a playboy from what you could recall, every week there was news on the new girl he had managed to convince to meet at the back alley of the school while you were just being a model student with the dream of going to law school. However, during the middle of the school year, you began to realise that the common scandalous news that seemed to be popular enough for it to be on the front cover of the newspaper began to gradually fade as Sukuna slowly pushed himself into your life since you were close with his twin brother due to your friend being part of the basketball team as the assistant coach - she even mentioned that ever since Sukuna came into your life he had stopped his acts and change slightly because of you to which, of course, you denied at the time.
It was during the first term of your third-year that you agreed to give Sukuna a chance since he was constantly annoying you by popping up at the school gate after school to ‘walk you home’ ever since his graduation - when in reality it was to take you out somewhere - without fail even when you had to stay in a few hours. However, you had given him three conditions since you were still conscious of the consequences of dating someone with such a disgraceful built reputation - much to his dismay, he shockingly agreed.
If you are going to have a fling with someone behind my back, don’t think about seeing or talking to me again.
I know you are sexually active, but you have to wait until I’m ready.
Don’t tattoo me.
Let’s just say that Sukuna had managed to keep condition number one in check and you didn’t have to worry about it at all, while with condition number two he didn’t have to wait that long for you to give in to your desires which you could tell he certainly enjoyed when you finally gave him the ‘okay’.
Number three though...
“Do you want to try that design out?”
Breaking from your daze, you quickly turned your head to find your boyfriend staring at you - with the bento box practically empty at this point - while tilting his head to the paper that was still within your grasp.
“I think you giving me hickeys are enough in my opinion, babe” you jokingly mentioned leading to both you and Sukuna laughing at each other slightly.
“I mean, do you want me to draw it on you to see how it looks?” he then asked, causing you to look at the floral design one last time before giving him a hesitant nod.
‘Trying it out won’t hurt right?’
“I need a confident answer little kitten, where did that feisty attitude of yours back in high school go?” Sukuna teased, causing you to give him the side glance before giving him the verbal permission that he wanted, leading him to smirk at you since knew his mockery would get you to give him what he wanted since you were also the stubborn type - a side that he always loved to play with.
Grabbing his pen and a black pot full of his thin-tipped coloured skin markers, he wheels his chair even closer to your before pausing, leading you to look at him in confusion since you had already pulled your wrist in front of him, the same area he had grabbed back in high school.
“You’re wearing a lot of clothing today,” Sukuna muttered as he began to fiddle with the collar of your white silk dress shirt causing you to look at him with extreme confusion before mentioning, “well it is getting colder since the Autumn season is coming around,” leading him to hum in an understanding tone as he continued to play with the smooth fabric.
“I want to draw on your collarbone area, I don’t want to draw on the area where the client wanted it to be,” Sukuna stated as he lightly pushed away your wrist leading you to realise why he paused. “You can,” you quickly mentioned leading the tattoo artist to look at you to see if you were lying, only to see nothing but the light of the trust within your eyes.
Slowly, Sukuna began to reach over to the top button to then unhook it from its loop before continuously doing the same with the others until enough skin of your shoulders were exposed with the top half of your shirt resting on the side of your arms to which then he slowly moved away the right-hand side of your bra strap to fully expose the canvas that he wanted to mark so eagerly.
Admiring the skin that was in front of him, Sukuna began to trace the area with his thumb before leaning in to place a chaste kiss on the same side of your neck before cradling your face on the other side with his other hand - as if it was a way for him to say ‘thank you’ for letting him do this.
Regrettably pulling away, Sukuna quickly grabbed his black pen as he then leaned in towards your collarbone to start drawing the outline of his design on his now favourite canvas causing you to shiver somehow due to how ticklish and weird the sensation felt when the ballpoint pen continuously gently gilded upon your skin. However, what got you shaking the most was the constant feeling of your boyfriend’s breath being felt on your upper body now that your shirt was basically off - it wasn’t completely off to the same feeling when you were underneath him the first time you allowed him to make his claim on you.
“Baby, it feels ticklish,” you commented, the second you felt a different sensation upon your skin leading Sukuna to glance up to check if you were alright like you were an actual client before placing another kiss on your jawline in a way to comfort you since he had switched to his skin markers to colour in the design he had drawn on you.
“You’re being a good kitten though, you’re not moving a lot then I thought you would,” the tattoo artist whispered leading you to quiver as his deep voice was not helping so much with your beating heart - erratic to the point where you thought he could hear or even feel.
Due to Sukuna concentrating, you couldn’t help but keep silent to help him continue with his work causing you to glance around your room with your eyes before landing upon a wall where there was a multitude of messages written leading you to carefully scan the writings that were visibly presenting themselves.
As expected, there were messages of encouragement - not that the arrogant Sukuna needed it to be honest, but it was nice of the client to do so - and a few drawings from other tattoo artists that Sukuna had famously done. However, not to your surprise, there were a few numbers here and there causing you to sigh since you couldn’t help it - you couldn’t blame your boyfriend for being an extremely handsome man.
Unexpectedly, you felt another kiss being placed upon your cheek causing you to look towards your boyfriend with a smile on your face - it was as if he knew what you were looking at. “I’m finished by the way,” Sukuna announced, causing you to look at him with widened eyes since the drawing session was a little faster than you had anticipated.
Reaching over to a drawer in his desk, Sukuna suddenly pulled out a mirror before passing it to you, leading you to lift up the little instrument to see the result that was drawn on your skin.
“You changed the design,” you quietly stated, as you began to tenderly trace the design with your index finger as you began to admire the piece of art that was masterfully drawn on your collar bone. The tattoo beautifully depicted a single strand of a blooming lavender across your collarbone with each petal in different shades of purple while the buds that weren’t in bloom were in a slight pale pink shade making you smile more since Sukuna drew this straight from his head causing you to have a hint of proudness for him.
“I wasn’t going to give you that previous design, it doesn’t suit you one bit,” the salmon-haired artist mentioned as he continued with, “I’m not going to let that disgusting design touch your skin, especially since this is the first time you let me mark you somewhat,” as he then moved behind you before placing his chin on your shoulder to look at you through the mirror you were holding.
“I might let you mark me permanently then,” you suddenly announced causing your boyfriend to look at you with a surprised look on his face leading you to giggle at his reaction.
“Yeah, let’s break condition three then, you can mark me this one time,” you informed him as you turned to look at him, causing Sukuna to give you his classic smirk before possessively grabbing your chin leading him to lean closer to you.
“Let me mark you then”
© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost
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filthy bts headcanons - hyung line
nothing but thirst and filth here.
maknae line here
a/n: i feel like this goes without saying but let me just put it in black and white so hybe doesn't try to sue my broke ass: i don't know the bangtan boys and this is all fiction. happy reading! ✌🏾
despite having his crackhead moments (like all of the guys), namjoon still manages to ooze buckets of self-control. he has the kind of aura that makes you want to sit up straight and impress him. it's not that he's intimidating exactly but that he has the kind of energy that has you seeking his approval, wanting to be good for and to him - even if you're usually the type of woman who doesn't have a submissive bone in her body.
so what i'm saying is that i think that we can all agree that daddy joon is a big dicked dom (but that's like ....94.7% of the time - more on that later).
when in dom mode, he gets gently bossy, legs spread wide while he watches you undress and tells you where and how to touch yourself - meanwhile, he's still fully dressed. he loves to have a hand in your hair or at the nape of your neck, guiding you when you take him into your mouth. will fuck your face if you let him and shower you in kisses and praise after.
can get rough and fuck you hard. remember when he went to the gym after the grammy's snub? namjoonah will W R E C K you when he's in a certain mood.
will smack your ass during sex but not so much into spankings on their own (unless you ask for it).
a pencil skirt and heels are his weakness. he likes the dichotomy of you looking modest and professional while he knows just how dirty you can be.
for all of the ways that he likes to play with control, it's most likely no surprise that he's into breathplay. his hands make a very nice necklace. sometimes he'll just have a hand at your throat for the hint of possession and sometimes he will full on choke you out.
his arms are also long enough that he could probably reach up and have a hand at your throat while going down on you. do with this mental image what you will.
though he's usually very controlled himself, he's into a woman who is bold and take charge, who shows him what she likes, how she likes it, and is as verbal as he is. tell him what you want and he'll do it for you, no questions asked.
likes to incorporate toys into sex with you. it is not an uncommon occurrence for namjoon to reach into the nightstand for your bullet mid-sex and press it to your clit until you fall apart and forget how to form coherent sentences while pulsing around him.
he is the king of dirty talk, equal parts filthy and poetic. not overly loud during sex but definitely vocal. besides all of the dirty talk, he also moans. will deadass send you a text in the middle of the day comparing your pussy to a flower and bemoaning the fact that he misses your taste. if you get flustered, take comfort in the fact that he's just as easily riled up by your sexts (sexting is his favorite form of foreplay, tbh).
you don't even need to send pics (though he is not going to complain) but if you send him an audio message of you describing what you want to do with him, he would be hard pressed not to just leave the studio in the middle of a session to come home to you.
audio of your moans are better than porn to him.
which is saying a lot since he is an avid porn watcher. in addition to his pornhub account, y'all have a subscription to a site like else cinema or lust cinema - something that's both erotic and artsy. he likes to watch with you and fuck with it on in the background once you've gotten inspired by the visuals.
now back to the 5.3% of the time that he's not a dom as i mentioned above: it's not so much that he's subby as it is that another weakness he has is being taken care of. he's a good man who works hard, has to be a single father of 6 all day, and be in charge of a lot of moving pieces for the group. he takes care of other people and focuses on other's needs being met and egos being stroked. he needs to be taken care of himself but can't (or won't) always ask for it.
break out the destiny's child "cater 2 u" level care - feed him, undress him, run him a bath, massage his back, ride him slow until he busts - and he will wife yo ass with the quickness.
for all of the ways he likes control, namjoon can easily give it up once he trusts you because in the end, he is a service oriented perfectionist who aims to please.
said it before and i'll say it again: namjoon will bend you over and eat you out from the back, large hands gripping those chocolate cheeks to keep you spread while he suckles you like his favorite candy (spoiler alert: you are).
he says sorry in advance for the bruises.
a fan of afternoon delight. like coming by your job for a quickie at work (he's especially a fan of this because it's such a dirty guilty pleasure) or between classes or running home to meet for "lunch" and then having to part breathless and go about your day while thinking about each other before you can luxuriate in each other more that night? it's *chef's kiss* for him. he loves the longing - and the fact that you'll undoubtedly end up sexting all day after.
you have both suffered at least one (1) sex-related injury that was not so serious that you couldn't later laugh about it.
our nature boy is also a fan of sex outside. now, this is a little contradiction because i don't think he's necessarily an exhibitionist like some of our freakier bangtan boyfriends but he likes the aesthetics of sex outside, preferably under the cover of moonlight, somewhere secluded. it's romantic and intimate and he gets to be in his 2 favorite places at once: nature and you.
mr. worldwide handsome can seem a little conventional sometimes but that does not mean he's entirely fluff and missionary with the lights off. he straight up admitted he liked being tied up so i think it's safe to say that he's honestly such a subby service top sometimes, gets off on being controlled, and likes his pleasure tinged with guilt.
meaning? meaning that among other things, he likes dirtying up the sheets in places he shouldn't be with someone he shouldn't be with - and i don't mean that he wants to cheat or be with someone who is taken but for jin, the guilt comes in the form of sex outside of a relationship. as he tends more towards traditional and sort of modest ideas of sex and relationships, he has this idea that sex should be reserved for a monogamous relationship and his reputation is very important to him so monogamy would bring with it trust and security.
however, a one night stand or an acquaintance-with-benefits situation (despite not being a preference because he truly does flourish and feel the most secure when in a serious, stable relationship) is thrilling in its own way to him because of the hint of risk and the bit of distance that not really being entirely intimate (mentally/emotionally) it offers. that bit of distance means that he's as likely to be open with his kinks as he would be in a situation where he totally trusts someone. it means he gets to be in control of how out of control he gets.
has a pain kink - slap his handsome face, bite those pretty lips, mark up his body with bitemarks and scratches (in places he can keep covered, of course), blindfold him, bind his hands, choke him, pull his hair, and use him up. jin wants to look and feel absolutely RUINED when it's all said and done - but don't forget the aftercare.
he is SO LOUD and it is SO HOT - the deep moans, the breathy little groans, the way he whines.
jin wants to be overstimulated to the point of no return. his dick will be an angry red, his balls will be dry, and he'll be an absolute sweaty, moaning mess but he wouldn't dare utter a safe word yet.
his nipples are his weak spot. he would die before telling you just because he both does and doesn't want you using it against him. you quickly find out though when you playfully bite him while kissing his chest. the sound he let out was beyond sinful and the next time your teeth met his flesh, it was a helluva lot less playful and much more intentional.
jin eats. and he takes the time to thoroughly enjoy his meals. spreads your legs and then takes you apart, licking from your clit to inside of you and back again.
loves it the most when you sit on his face and ride his tongue, taking pleasure from him the way that you want.
now don't let all of this subby talk fool you - he will throw your legs over his broad shoulders and fuck into you so good and so deep that the neighbors will come knocking with the way he'll have you screaming.
then the next minute, he'll have you giggling while he's inside of you.
2 words: brat breaker.
you might have an iron will and be the most patient (or stubborn) person on the planet, but you know who can hold out even longer when he puts his mind to it to torture you? min yoongi.
he is truly patient enough to put his own pleasure on hold to edge and torture you until kingdom come.
alternately, he's also a glutton for punishing you by making you come so many times that you end up overstimulated.
the sound of you begging and whining is hands down the greatest melody he's ever heard. he would use it as the secret backing track to a rap if he could.
he has some beautiful hands and he loves to see his fingers in your mouth - either when you're getting them wet before he slips them between your thighs or when you're teasing him with what you're going to do to him soon.
will slip his hand into your panties while you cuddle and tease you until you're wet and rutting against his fingers.
because he's lovingly cruel, he may or may not allow you to cum. you'd better beg for it, just for good measure.
don't let this fucker fool you - he looks cold and enjoys heightening the tension and teasing you but he also has an ooey gooey center and is actually weak for you.
if you want to break him and make him give you anything you want, ride him into the sunset while pinning his hands down with your fingers laced and kissing the taste from his mouth. he likes to dominate but he also occasionally likes to relinquish that control and let you do what you want to him. it's a sign of how much he trusts you.
also, if you cuss him out when he deserves it, you will get the heart eyes.
do we even need to talk about the Tongue Tech™? i know it goes without saying but shit, let's say it - yoongi is #1 at eating pussy. honestly, it's hard for me to rank them all because i feel like all of the bangtan boys are good at it but have different techniques. yoongi's technique involves using his tongue alone to get you off. he will devour you - softly at first and then builds up the speed. licks, flicks, sucks, nibbles, blows, and makes it feel like the fourth of july down there. please bury your fingers in his hair and squirm against him while he does so.
slaps your inner thighs while he goes down on you, especially if you're trying to close your thighs around his head (which he loves and would probably be his preferred way to go tbh)
will call you his good girl (when you're actually good).
#1 fan of hitting it from the back because he loves the booty. he loves watching the way your body ripples from the impact of his hips against you, he loves the lewd sound of skin slapping skin, he loves being able to bury himself in you with a hand either gripping your shoulder or your hair.
and because he loves the booty, he eats it like groceries.
like his bff, jung hoseok has some of the prettiest hands on god's green earth. the only thing more devastating than this fact is what he's capable of doing with them.
will absolutely finger you until you're on the verge of tears and begging him to stop. his goal is to find your g-spot and if you're capable, make you squirt. he lives for watching the pleasure spreading over your face, loves to watch you lose control, loves to feel you wet and pulsing around his fingers.
watching you is really what makes him hard and gets him off and it's not about ego, it's sincerely about seeing you so satisfied and yet so needy for me.
hoseok's major weakness is your head game. it makes him leap over tall buildings in a single bound, come faster than a speeding bullet, and wash the dishes when it isn't his turn. go slow and edge him while making eye contact and he is putty in your hands, mouth open while he watches you work.
to no one's surprise, he's loud as hell during sex but is absolutely the loudest when getting head, all gravely groans and deep moans.
needs to have a hand in your hair/at the back of your neck - not really to guide you because he wants to just let you work your magic but he likes that extra bit of connection. sometimes, more than just having a hand in your hair, he'll actively play with it, brushing it back from your face and twirling it around his fingers without necessarily pulling on it.
dominant hobi, however, is a beast of a different color. he will gag you on his dick, pull your hair, smack your ass, press your shoulders into the bed while he rails you, and choke you out. and then give you a kiss and that megawatt smile.
now i'm not saying that jung hoseok is a freak....but i'm not not saying it either. he's just very open and willing to try a lot of things to a certain point.
he's voyeuristic in that he would want to watch you touching yourself and would want to film it without being in the video himself. but he's also not against starring in a few things with you. i mentioned in the last filthy headcanons that he has a touch of the exhibitionist in him. he would absolutely touch you while out in public or while you're sharing a blanket and watching a movie with the guys. he also would enjoy the thrill of the possibility of getting caught while fucking you in his studio/the rehearsal room/the car/the open window of your apartment or hotel/a restaurant bathroom/a darkened booth at a bar/out on the crowded dancefloor of a club....you get the idea.
he spoils you beyond compare. the only person who might spoil you more is tae but he has a very different way of spoiling. i imagine that hoseok really loves gifting you jewelry. y'all have to keep it on the low so delulus aren't sitting outside your house but his most overt gift is a necklace with his initial on it and it drives him insane to see you in his necklace....and only his necklace.
© fandomnoire — do not translate, re-distribute, or copy my work.
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Childhood friends to lovers with Miya Osamu - 988 words of fluff
Setting up a tinder profile is remarkably easy.
A few carefully chosen photos, a witty description or two is all that’s needed to start fishing in the great blue sea for a potential lifemate or two. But it’s a lot harder when the subject of said profile is horrendously intransigent and ends up shooting each and every one of your suggestions down.
“Samu, when was the last time you went on a date?”
He stares at you, arms crossed over his broad chest stubbornly. “Two years ago?” he admits after you stare him down. “Doesn’t matter, online datin’ is stupid.”
“Loads of my friends find their significant others on tinder, there’s nothin’ to be ashamed of swiping right and left to find a partner”, you try to reason with him. It’s not that you want to interfere in your friend’s love life but his mother had been surprisingly persuasive and stubborn, inserting herself during your visits home on the weekends to complain about her younger son’s lack of marital prospects. It’s funny how she never mentions Atsumu’s lack of success in the dating arena - it’s almost as if she’s completely given up on him.
“Look! You should totally use this photo!!”
Your forehead creases with consternation. Atsumu’s piss poor judgment is probably the reason why he can’t seem to land himself any dates despite being a hot shot professional athlete. He’s managed to pick the worst photo of the lot, a picture of Osamu squatting on a bar counter, dressed in a shirt that seems about to burst at the seams, face flushed from too much alcohol. You remember that night - the twins had gone out to celebrate Atsumu signing on with the Black Jackals and had somehow wandered into a club, and not knowing their limits, you had to swing by and pick Osamu up from the side of the pavement and shove him into a cab.
“Absolutely not”, you snap, jabbing at another photo, one where no alcohol is involved, and Osamu is cuddling Bokuto’s very cute, very adorably, very slobbery (much like its owner) dog. “This one would be much better.”
“Yer such a stick in the mud, no wonder ya don’t have a boyfriend yerself.”
“I could get one if I wanted to”, you retort, always ready for a verbal spar with Atsumu.
“Then why don’t ya walk the talk and make a tinder profile for yerself?” he replies, taunting you with a smirk that might have gone viral on social media but isn't going to work on you. “Or are ya too chicken - “
You snatch your phone back. “I’ll show you”, you snarl, creating a tinder profile of your own with a vengeance, just typing whatever nonsensical description comes to mind. You’re about to shove your newly created tinder profile in Atsumu’s face when a large hand covers your screen.
“There’s no need for that”, Osamu says. “Ya can just go out with me and save us both the trouble.”
“Go where with you?” you ask, frowning. “What’s that got to do with our tinder profiles?”
Atsumu chortles. “Smooth, ‘Samu but I guess she’s a little dense, even after all these years.”
“Shut up, Tsumu!” Osamu shouts, promptly drop kicking his brother out of his kitchen before turning back to dense little you, who’s still standing in the middle of the kitchen, trying to figure his words out. “So what about it”, he says, stuffing his hands in his pockets, unable to look you in the eye. “Ya know every bit of me already, and I know all ya bad habits and bad temper inside out so ya ain’t gonna scare me off - “
“Wait - ” your lips pucker with disbelief as it finally hits you. Miya Osamu, your best friend, the boy you’ve grown up with, seeing him through mud pies to graduation gowns. “You’re seriously asking me out? LIke, romantically? This isn’t one of your pranks?”
“There she goes”, Atsumu remarks, head still poking into the kitchen even as his twin furiously gestures at him to get the fuck out and piss off, tisn’t yer business, fuckin’ Tsumu!
“Imma serious about this”, Osamu mumbles when his twin ducks out of the kitchen, though he knows for sure he’s gleefully eavesdropping outside, the tips of his ears reddening as he stares down at his fingers. It’s definitely not the romantic setting he’s imagined for a confession, but he’s chickened out so many times before he has to shoot his shot now, especially since you’re about to dip your toes into the big, bad world of online dating right before his very eyes and he’ll hate himself forever if someone else whisked you off before he even had a chance.
Please, he prays while waiting for your response. Say yes and he won’t try to strangle ‘Tsumu the next time he tries to steal his jacket or drive away customers with his incessant whinin’ - doesn’t even hide his fingers behind his back as he crosses it nervously and starts to bounce on the balls on his feet, so distracted that he almost misses the uncharacteristically meek ‘okay’ you squeak.
Confidence immediately restored, he shoots you a lazy grin. “Care to say that a lil’ louder, darlin’?”
“I said okay, okay?!” you scowl, voice raised in a shout. “I swear to the gods you Miya boys are always such a headache and a menace and - “
“But that means I’m yer headache from now on, right?” Osamu answers, wrapping his arm around your waist to interrupt you mid tirade.
You sigh, making a show of slapping your forehead. “I don’t know what I’ve gotten myself into, but okay”, you grouse, though you’re certainly not at all grumpy when he steals a kiss and you pay him back with another and soon you’re sort of but not really making out in the kitchen and on the verge of incurring all sorts of health code violations -
“OI! I’M STILL WAITIN’ OUT HERE! DON’T CONSUMMATE YOUR RELATIONSHIP BEFORE YOU EVEN GO ON A FIRST DATE!”
a/n: poor, idiot tsumu, how i love to clown him HAHA.
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When I’m Down On My Knees,
You’re How I Pray
Pairing: Lee Bodecker x Female Reader
Summary: Lee wasn’t your type. Married men were not your type. Yet something about that asshole made your knees weak, and your pussy flutter.
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, infidelity, DUBCON in parts, semi-public fingering/throat fucking, spit play, themes of humiliation and degradation, derogatory name calling, 18+.
Word Count: 2.8k
A/N: This was written for @the-iceni-bitch’s 1k Hoeing To Hozier Challenge. Congratulations Beauty! I hope you like it!
Lee is not a nice man in this fic, but then when is he ever? Thank you to @ozarkthedog for reading through this for me. Part Two will be posted in the next few days. Enjoy!
The first time you met Lee Bodecker, you wanted to smack him in the mouth; your smart-ass, drunken attitude earning you a night in jail at the very obvious amusement of the twisted Sheriff.
The second time you met Lee Bodecker, you were on your knees in less than five minutes choking on his surprisingly impressive cock.
It was a quick turn of events, granted. But the way he matched your sass, jibe for jibe. The way he let his eyes shamelessly wander over the swell of your breasts – well, you just couldn’t help yourself.
You’d never been particularly good at swerving red flags. Hell, they all looked a cute shade of pink to you.
The first time he’d fucked you, skirt hitched around your waist, breasts pressed up against the hood of his cruiser, you tried to convince yourself it was a hate fuck. A mere release of unbearable tension, certain that it had nothing to do with those sapphire eyes and that knowing smirk.
Lee wasn’t your type. Married men were not your type. Yet something about that asshole made your knees weak, and your pussy flutter. Maybe it was your power kink coming into play, or maybe it was his mouth; his thick, Southern drawl whispering all manner of filth in your ear at any given opportunity.
Just last week he’d had his thick fingers knuckle-deep in your cunt behind the Kissing Booth at the fayre, taking his own furious jealousy out on you as he made you grind shamelessly against his fingers – literally in the palm of his hand.
A memory you sure wouldn’t forget in a hurry.
“Darlin’, what have I told you? Kissin’ all these boys like some kinda cheap whore when you know who you belong to.”
It infuriated you, the way he laid claim to you like you were merely a possession to be coveted.
Shamed you for daring to offer your lips up for innocent kisses for the good of the community, when all the while he was fucking you and going home to his wife for seconds. The audacity of his hypocrisy drove you to the point of madness, yet no matter how much you told yourself you’d never let him touch you again – you always did.
You stood on the edge of the dance floor, swigging from your warm beer, and watching the scene unfold in front of you.
Of course the Sheriff made sure everyone made a fuss on his birthday, the dingey Knockemstiff Community Centre decorated with balloons and trashy streamers, a full buffet prepared lovingly by his darling wife, no doubt.
He hadn’t asked you to come, and honestly, you weren’t going to. But as you sat in your tiny, dark living room earlier that night with your cat purring away on your lap, two whiskeys deep and an ache in your chest; you decided to none the less.
You’d dug out your prettiest dress – knee-length with capped sleeves, emerald green, and just enough cleavage to ensure his eyes would wander. Your make up was sinful, thick painted lashes and rouged lips. You knew you were asking for trouble, and yet you simply couldn’t bring yourself to give one solitary fuck.
You watched as he cut his birthday cake, scowled when his wife dipped her finger in the frosting and slid it between his lips. Lips so surprisingly soft, they’d taken your breath away the first time he’d kissed you.
Lee hadn’t looked your way once all night, and you knew that because you hadn’t taken your eyes off him from the moment you’d walked through the door. But when he pulled her in for a kiss, your stomach flipped, and you had to look away, making your way to the cooler in the corner of the room and helping yourself to another beer.
You weren’t sure what irritated you more – the fact that he wasn’t yours, or the reality that his wife was perfect. She really was a pretty, little thing. Clearly devoted to her husband, and oblivious to his misgivings. You’d often wondered if you were the first woman he’d strayed with but could never bring yourself to ask the question.
Deciding you needed to take a moment, you popped the cap on your beer, walking out of the Community Centre and fishing into your bag for your cigarettes. He hated it when you smoked, and goddamn, if it didn’t make you want to blow the fumes in his smug, arrogant face.
Taking the cigarette between your teeth and setting your beer down on the railing beside you, you fumbled with your lighter and willed it to spark.
“Told ya those shit sticks’ll kill ya.”
You jumped, the lighter slipping from your grasp and falling between the rickety, wooden slats beneath your feet.
“God damn it, fuck you.” It slipped from your lips without a care, two hours’ worth of pent-up anger bursting from you the second it had the chance. “Shouldn’t you be inside playing happy families with your wife, Lee? Leave me the hell alone.”
You stared him down, little fists balled up at your sides; unlit cigarette crushed in your palm.
It was odd to see him dressed casually, dark blue jeans and a black button up – his soft tummy bulging slightly over the black belt around his waist. It made your pussy ache, and you hated yourself for it.
An unreadable expression on his stern face, he took a step towards you just as you took a step back. Needing to keep as much space between the two of you as you could.
“What? No ‘Happy Birthday’? My Kitten feelin’ neglected?”
God, you hated him. Hated the way the pet name had you clenching around nothing.
“You’re fucking disgusting, do you know that?” He took another step. “Don’t you fucking touch me, don’t come anywhere near me.”
A sardonic smirk etched on the curve of his lips, he shook his head from side to side slowly; eyes wandering over your body, a low whistle singing from his mouth showing his appreciation for your appearance.
“You get all dressed up for me, Darlin’? Know I love those legs, so thought you’d head on out here and tease me with ‘em?”
“Didn’t you hear me the first time, asshole? Stay away from me. This,” your finger pointing back and forth between the two of you, “is done.”
The last thing you expected was for him to throw his head back in amusement, laughing like you’d just told the best ‘knock knock’ joke in the world.
“No Kitten, no it’s not.”
Fury burned in your belly, the urge to slap that smug smile right off his face growing stronger with every passing second. Your chin quivered in anger; chin tilted defiantly as you took a step forward, your index finger jamming into his chest.
“Listen to me, Sheriff. We are done. I’m not gonna wait around and welcome you with open legs every time you get bored of your little Dolly in there.”
You were getting to him, could tell by the way he bit at the inside of his cheek, swaying back on his heels slightly and exhaling deeply; his breath feathering your face. You couldn’t stop yourself, words falling freely from your careless lips.
“You know what I’m gonna do? I’m gonna find myself a man that can give me everything I want. He won’t treat me like I’m disposable. Like I’m just some whore that you can call on whenever you need a quick fuck. Oh, and speaking of, he’ll fuck me better than—”
“Finish that fuckin’ sentence, I dare you.”
You should have been scared. You should have second-guessed yourself. But you didn’t.
“Sugar, I’m gonna say it one more time. You, and that dick of yours, well I don’t need either of them.” Taking a step further, you leaned up on the toe of your kitten heels, lips inches from the shell of his ear. “Now if you don’t mind Sheriff, I’m gonna head back inside and find me that man.”
His hand wrapped itself around your throat suddenly, thumb squeezing against your thumping pulse point, walking you backwards with a look of immeasurable fury in his eyes. You fumbled over your own feet, his grip the only thing keeping you upright.
“You just had to go and fuckin’ say it, didn’t you?”
Choking on your garbled pleas, fingernails digging into the vein bulging in his forearm, you kicked at his shins; his cheeks ablaze and his breath-taking eyes swallowed up with darkness.
“You frightened, Darlin’? You fuckin’ should be.” All you could do was whimper as he dragged you by the throat down the porch steps and round the corner of the building. “You know why I married that little Dolly in there, huh?”
Your back slamming into the rough wood behind you, you shook your head frantically, eyes brimming with tears as he released his grip around your neck; fingers still lingering against the column of your throat.
“I married her because she’s a good girl. So fuckin’ sweet and pure.” His words twist in your gut, the feelings you so desperately denied creeping to the surface – just as they always did in his presence. “You wanna know why I stick my dick in you every time I get the chance?”
The way he said it made you want to vomit, his voice uncaring and cold; one hand trailing down the delicate buttons of your dress, sliding up your inner thigh and grazing the dampened gusset of your panties. It didn’t matter how cruel he was, your body always betrayed you.
“You are everything she’s not, Kitten. Fuckin’ filth.” You couldn’t help the moan that escaped you when his index finger dipped inside your underwear, slipping through your pussy lips and nudging against your clit. “You let me have you however I want, any time I want, anywhere I want. You’re my own personal fuckhole.”
Thick fingers glide into your hot cunt, stretching you out with little effort, moisture thick between your thighs from his depraved, humiliating tirade. You despised the way you ground down against his hand, hands gripping his shirt as your knees trembled beneath you.
“And what a tight little hole it is.”
Lee’s tongue licked into your panting mouth, muffling your sordid whimpers when your lips closed around it – sucking in a gentle motion that you knew made his cock throb every time.
“So fuckin’ dirty, and always so desperate. You got one hell of a mouth on you, Kitten. Sweet as candy, but that tongue?” A finger slipped between your crimson lips, coaxing your tongue out of your mouth, and pressing it against your bottom lip firmly. “That tongue is mean as hell, and now I gotta remind you where your place is in this town.”
He spat in your mouth, his saliva hitting the back of your throat, you stared up at him in shock. He’d never treated you quite this roughly, like you were nothing, and yet you were ready do anything he asked. Not that he ever asked.
“On your knees.”
Smearing the spittle from your tongue across your cheek, his hand on your shoulder, he eased you down; your dress riding up, skin catching against the splinters on the rough wood. Your knees nestling into the grass, thighs spread wide – you waited.
“Open wide, and don’t you dare close it.”
He tapped your cheek gently before unbuckling his belt, freeing his cock from his pants, and smirking in satisfaction when your breath hitched.
You’d never tire of the sight of it. Thick, and long; one perfect vein protruding from base to tip with the mostly deliciously pink tip, glistening with the evidence of his own need.
“Cock drunk already, Kitten?”
You didn’t wait for him to give it to you, leaning forward and wrapping your mouth around him in a heartbeat. The salty taste of his precum set your tastebuds alight, humming in appreciation as you drove him further into your mouth; hand wrapped around the base of him, squeezing firmly and twisting him in your grasp.
“That’s it, suck it down, there ya go.” His fingers tangled in your hair, the other hand cupping your chin as he fucked himself down your throat – obscene gulping sounds ringing out into the evening air, merging with the singing of crickets in the distance. “So much sweeter with a mouth full’a my dick, Darlin'’”
You gagged around him, globs of saliva falling from the corners of your mouth, jaw aching as he face-fucked you mercilessly. His cock bulging in your throat, forehead pressed up against his soft belly, he held you there; grunting lustfully every time you contracted around him.
“I know Kitten, I know. Just hold it a little longer for me.”
You wanted nothing more than to reach between your legs and ease the throbbing ache that lay there, struggling to breathe through your nostrils, fingernails digging into his denim-clad thighs to suppress the urge to touch yourself.
Lee’s dick throbbed on your tongue, twitching and growing ever harder with each desperate suckle of your lips. Yanking your head back, he withdrew; his soaked length bobbing against your chin, eyes dark and hungry as he took in the sight of you on your knees for him.
He watched, watched as your frustration led you to grind against the dirt pressed up against your ruined panties — a sadistic smirk painted on his lips while he stroked the corner of your stretched out mouth with his thumb.
“Cock got you all desperate and pathetic, huh?” He tugged at his cock, pulling his jeans down lower and grabbing you by the back of the head, guiding you forwards as you flattened your tongue against his balls. “This is the good girl I know ‘n love, Kitten.”
The uttering of the word didn’t go unnoticed by you, but you were wholly too invested in sucking his sac into your mouth, nibbling carefully on the sensitive flesh; his length resting against your face.
Releasing them from your section, tongue laving from the base to the tip of him, you looked up at him with doe-wide eyes, drunk on the way he stared down at you.
Lee humiliated you, took you like you were something to be owned, lashed you violently with his tongue whenever he got the chance. But those eyes couldn’t lie. Not to you.
You were more to him than that, and you knew it.
You and Lee were one and the same.
Getting back to work on his cock, you bobbed your head back and forth, pushing bubbles of dribble farther down his shaft with each drive of your lips; your cherry red lipstick staining his flesh and leaving behind the evidence of his infidelity.
It was territorial, the way you marked him up like this. Your way of claiming him.
Tugging at his balls with one hand, pumping him into your mouth with the other — you went for it.
“Jesus fuck, Kitten. That’s it. Work that dirty little mouth for me, make me come down that pretty throat.”
Slurping and sucking, throat welcoming him in with each punched thrust of his hips; you let him use you.
Saliva trailed down your chin, marking up your pretty dress, each swirl of your tongue along the throbbing vein on the underside of him causing him to whimper above you.
God, you loved that sound.
Lee’s fingers dug into your shoulders, his body trembling as he edged closer — girth pulsing between your lips. So close.
Tightening your fist around him, tugging on him at an insistent pace, you suckled on his crown; swiping the tip of your tongue back and forth across the slit.
He lost it then. Practically growling through gritted teeth as hot spurts of pearly liquid smattered against the roof of your abused mouth. You milked him fully, looking up in awe at the sight of him.
Palms flat against the wood, head hung forward in ecstasy, eyes closed and lips parted. The little crease in his brow softening as he rode out his orgasm with his dick still resting on your tongue.
Coming down from his high, shoving you gently back against the side of the building, he straightened himself out; his softening cock tucked back in his underwear.
He never held you after any of your debauched encounters, and with each passing time that went by you found yourself craving it more and more.
He’d never been gentle with you, and you ached to know what it was like. To be worshipped and adored by the mean-spirited Sheriff.
“I got somethin’ on my face, Darlin’?” He teased.
You hadn’t realised you’d been staring, cheeks warming as you rose to your feet and smoothing out the creases in your dress. You were sure you looked wrecked, tear tracks marking your cheeks and your eye makeup no doubt ruined.
Lee pinched your chin between his thumb and forefinger, a gentle movement to lift your gaze to meet his own.
“Get yourself home, clean yourself up and wait for me. Think you can do that for me? Because Darlin’, we are nowhere near done.”
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Number Five + TV Tropes (requested by anonymous)
descriptions for the images and tropes under the cut
A colourful, highly contrasted set of ten gifs showing various scenes of Number Five in the first two seasons of the Umbrella Academy. Over each gif, white text names a TV trope showcased in the giffed moment.
Anti-Hero: In the first gif, coloured in blues and yellows and oranges, Five waves at the Handler, a grenade in hand, with a wide grin on his face. The anti-hero is an archetype, a protagonist who presents the opposite attributes to that of the traditional hero, in this case including, but not limited to ruthlessness and the willingness to murder.
Screw Destiny: The seconds gif, with a colour story of blue, purple and pink, shows Five in the Icarus theatre in the Season 1 finale, as he turns to his siblings and says “this doesn’t have to be the end”. Screw Destiny is a trope applicable to characters who believe in free will and their ability to change their destinies, even if higher authorities tell them that their fate has been laid out for them. Five, of course, has as his life goal to prevent the apocalypse despite the Commission insisting that it must happen.
Killer Rabbit: In gif number three, Five is sitting at a table in Griddy’s donut shop, surrounded by armed Commission henchmen. The scene is still until Five reaches for a butter knife, upon which the camera rapidly cuts as he teleports away and violently punctures one henchmen’s throat, killing him. The gif is in blue, red and pink. The Killer Rabbit trope takes its name from the movie Monty Python and the Holy Grail, in which there is a sweet, innocent-looking rabbit that viciously attacks and brutally murders anyone who comes near it. This trope describes any character which looks harmless from the outside, but can turn deadly in a second. Five, looking like a teenage boy but actually being a trained and very skilled assassin, fits that trope perfectly.
Slasher Smile: In the fourth gif, in all orange and yellow with specks of pink and blue, a blood-soaked Five is smiling widely after having just killed twelve people. He is exhilarated at his own display of power, and very satisfied with himself. The Slasher Smile trope designates smiles that appear in response to having inflicted pain and violence.
The Chessmaster: Gif number five, in blue and yellow, shows Five sitting at a desk, typing a message on a typewriter before reaching up and pushing the side of the typewriter to change lines. He is writing fake Commission notices to Hazel and Cha-Cha in order to pit them against one another and keep them out of his way. A character falls under the trope of Chessmaster if he has the ability to manipulate events and people as though they were pieces on a chessboard. They play the long game for their own gain and the full scope of their moves is often only apparent in hindsight. Five in Season 1 Episode 6 is a perfect example of a Chessmaster.
Ripple-Effect-Proof Memory: The sixth gif, Five is standing alone as the camera slowly pans closer, getting lost in thoughts. The shot changes, and it flashes back to Five finding a newspaper that proclaims ‘SOVIETS ATTACK U.S.’ in the rubble, an event that has not happened yet, but that Five witnessed due to his time-travelling abilities. The trope Ripple-Effect-Proof Memory simply describes characters with the ability to retain their memories of any and all timelines they have been part of, even if these timelines are changed and events never happened.
The Dreaded: In the sixth gif, in a colour palette of orange, blue, yellow, red and pink, Five stands with the back to the camera, an axe in his hands and clearly visible over his shoulder. In front of him, sat around a conference table, the Board of Directors of the Commission turns to him and then recoils in fear. The shot cuts to a front view of Five in the doorway, axe still raised. He turns his head to fixate on one of the board members with the clear intent to kill. Quite self-explanatory, the Dreaded describes a character, often a villain or anti-hero, who is feared, terribly so, by another party. This fear does not stem from the moment itself, but from reputation; the one who is afraid knows exactly who the Dreaded is and what they are capable of. Five has been preceded by his notoriety for the entire show, with anyone affiliated with the Commission knowing exactly how dangerous he is.
School Uniforms are the New Black: The eighth, mostly blue gif shows Five from the side. He is standing there, and the shot starts at his feet and then pans up his entire body, showcasing his dress shoes, knee-high socks, schoolboy shorts and Umbrella Academy blazer. The School Uniforms are the New Black trope is an example of the trope of limited wardrobe and designates a character that almost exclusively wears a school uniform, in this case, because there were no other clothes at hand and Five has been to busy to change to the point where the school uniform has become his signature outfit.
Odd Friendship: In the ninth gif, which is in blue, pink, purple, yellow and orange, Five is sat at a diner counter, with his sister Vanya next to him. She is clutching a cup of coffee, and he is attentively listening to her speak. In another rather obviously named trope, Odd Friendship describes the relationship between two characters that seem unlikely to be friends from an outside perspective, often because of clashing or opposing personalities or beliefs, but they care deeply for each other despite these superficial differences.
The Needs of the Many: The tenth and last gif is in blue and pink, and shows Five in a moderate close-up. He is talking to the Handler, who is out of frame, and insistently says “I did it to save the world”. The Needs of the Many trope is named after a Spock quote from the Star Trek movie The Wrath of Khan. In full, the quote reads “The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, or the one.”, and the trope refers to the choice made by a character to prioritise the wellbeing of the many over that of the few, often including their own. It has been Five’s main driving force over the course of the seasons, putting the survival of humankind, and that of his siblings, first, despite the hurt Five caused others, and himself.
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Unfavorable Guidance | H.Shinso
✎ Mindjack has been doing these kind of jobs since he was recruited as a hero, he is unmistakingly the best at them, doesn’t need anyone butting their noses in his business, especially you, the sly fox in disguise, offering your tainted helping hand.
✎ Protagonists: Hitoshi Shinso x Fem!Reader.
✎ Word count: 6.4K
✎Category: noncon/dubcon, Smut MDNI, Prohero!au
✎Caution(!): noncon/dubcon, Smut 18+ MDNI please, , mentions of alcohol, mentions of murder, minor character death, sex under quirk use, spitting, degrading, swearing, manipulation, unprotected sex.
✎ Author’s notes: I KNOW I’M LATE EUFGKHDFVBDFXL, but here is my contribution to @daisy-bakugo 2k event Vice City! Please take the time to read everyone’s work if you haven’t! Thank you so much for letting me participate.
I listened to this throughout the entire process of writing it, if you’re familiar with Kingdom Hearts, some names will ring a bell to you lol. also I hate the header and the summary but you’re just gonna have to live w it for now cause its 8 am I NEED SLEEP
» Masterlist | Requests | Taglist
The annual auction of Vice City is one of the biggest social events of the year. The wealthiest families and richest people in the world come from everywhere in attempts to win what is secretly considered the greatest treasures of all time. Greatest and most expensive.
Alas, the after party held later on is what people are all secretly actually waiting for, where the most exquisite and rarest artifacts of the year get auctioned off to whoever is lucky enough to even be included in the guest list.
While not all are there for the auctions, it certainly is the perfect opportunity for anyone who's anyone in the world to show off their wealth. Filthy rich people sway all around, laughing and bragging. Venetian crystal chandeliers, velvet carpets, gambling, and alcohol. Men with their cigars, men with their wives, and men with their arm candies, their escorts or mistresses.
Yet, Shinso isn’t here for the luxury, he isn't here for the fame and the fortune, nor the reputation people thrive for when they buy those - meaningless, he calls them - relics. No, he is here on a mission, one he certainly wants to be done and over with because he wants to go home. He loosens his tie with an aggravated sigh before knocking back the last of his only gin and tonic, the bitter taste prickling his throat as he surveys the crowd of people all around him while he stands idly by the bar.
He knew it’d be a pain in the ass the second he got the mission assigned to him from the agency, the words “intel” and “Vice City'' of all places forced a frown upon his face, yet, being the most suitable for this job, he couldn't really decline.
Mindjack isn’t the type of hero you see on billboards and magazines, isn’t the type of hero to kiss babies’ heads that get thrusted at him in meet and greets, he certainly isn’t one to have those adoring fan clubs that follow his every move, posting about his greatest conquests. Oh no, he is a hero that works in dingy jobs with filthy manipulative men in black markets and the human trafficking industry, undercover -lie through your teeth throughout the whole ordeal- kind of hero, the kind of hero that goes home at the end of his missions with no gratitude towards his work, because nobody knows who he is or what he contributes to the society.
For the longest time, Shinso accepted the life he’s living, he didn’t look for validation from the citizens, knowing his work is always beyond the scope of their knowledge and their awareness, but sometimes, just sometimes, the sour droplets of envy would foul his mouth when his amethysts for eyes scan over the extravagant heroes, making a show out of saving their cities and getting praised and awarded and loved for doing what they’re supposed to be doing, their job.
“Squeeze that glass a bit more and you’d break it”
A voice just like silk, weaving around him and entrancing him, Shinso blinked twice before his eyes dragged over to you, oh so beautiful and oh so close. Your nimble fingers wrapped around his fingers, the lacey glove lightly scratches his hand before he lets go of the glass in surprise, dropping it into yours. You giggle sweetly, turning around to place it on the bar before ordering your own, but not without looking at him over your shoulder and sending him a smile.
“What will it be, sugar tits?” the bartender leans over the counter, towel thrown on his shoulder as he sends you what's supposed to be a sultry look. Your elbow is placed on the counter while you rest your chin on your hand, smiling temptingly at him. “Anything that’ll get you to stop staring at my boobs.” Shinso almost laughs at the contrast between your smile and your voice, sharp and venomous, and the man leans back so far from you like he’s been stung. Walking away to work on a drink for you.
Shinso’s eyes rake your body without his knowledge, he admires the dress adorning your body, hugging you in all the right places, cascading down to the floor, and that slit my god, your legs looking endless in those heels he wonders how you can strut so elegantly with them on. A snap of your fingers breaks his trance and he tries - keyword tries - to act nonchalant to his obvious ogling and you only laugh in return.
You hum lowly, “So,” you’re turning to face him as you lean back on the counter, pushing your chest out to grasp even more of his attention, “what's an esteemed hero like you doing in a place like this?” It takes Shinso a good minute before he narrows his eyes, left foot back and ready to either take you down or run away if you were to involve greater forces. No one is supposed to know about his true identity, no one is supposed to know that there is a hero within them.
But what shakes his demeanor is the way you dangle his wallet in front of him, like dangling a stupid feather for some silly cat, waiting for it to jump at you to entertain you. Shinso swallows with a struggle, deciding that using his quirk to retrieve his wallet back will lead to him leaving, and he didn’t want that. He’s been keeping an eye on the wanted man for hours now, and it’ll all go to waste because of your slimy little hands and your-
“Here,” you toss it back to him, and he stumbles a bit before catching it properly, eyeing you for any sudden movements, but you simply turn back around in time to hold the drink from the bartender’s hand with a smile dazzling your lips. “You’re getting intel on The Wise?” you mumble against your cup, sipping slowly, eyes never leaving Shinso’s glaring ones. How the fuck do you know?
“You’re not the first.” you smirk, finger wiping the smeared lipstick against the glass before circling the rim. “You all look the same, thinking you’re better than them because of your position in the society, only for that ego to come and bite you right in the ass.” It’s almost ironic how poisonous your voice could get while still maintaining that mesmerizing smile, and oddly enough, Shinso’s eyes keep drooping despite his desperate attempt to fight against them.
You hum again, the click of your heels sounding muffled to him, eyes blurring when you get so close to him your breath tickles his cheek. “But you’re different, hmm? You’re gonna make the bad guy go away?”
“Yes.” it's rushed, almost desperate, and the hero is astonished at how he sounds. “Then, lemme help you… Hitoshi.”
A blink, and you’re gone just like you vanished right from under his nose, slipped right between his fingers. A low curse escapes Shinso’s lips and he turns around swiftly to question the bartender, hell bent on getting any information on the girl that just revealed his entire identity and mission to him in a matter of seconds.
“How can I help you, sir?” the question boggles his mind, the big burly man with an attitude problem wasn’t there anymore, replaced by another sweet woman that held concern in her eyes at his sight. “You’ve been staring at the wall for a while there, need me to call your driver to get you back?”
“Wa- but I- She,” Shinso’s body started heating up in anger, worry, embarrassment, he doesn’t really know, but what he wants to know right this instant is how long he’s been out of it and for god’s sake, why?
Shinso doesn’t really consider himself to be the sharpest tool in the shed, but dammit did he feel like a complete idiot letting you run off like that, a quick trip to the restroom for a splash of water clears his head enough for him to pull back his wallet from his pocket, flipping through it and finding something he was absolutely sure wasn’t there prior to your visit. A silver card, with ‘Surveillance room’ scribbled on a note behind it.
Caving in and accepting whatever help you were offering him, Shinso slides the card through the reader, sighing in relief upon the satisfying ding sound, followed by the door opening to the surveillance room.
“Now that’s what’m talking about.” life got so much easier now that he could watch The Wise through multiple screens, making it hard to miss a single move of his. The hero allows himself to relax a bit, hand messing with his hair and tired eyes blinking in irritation against the glare of the screens. The Wise was the mastermind of Organization XIII, as their name intel, they’re consisting of the same thirteen members that founded it years ago, nobody really knows how they started, what shocked the whole world is how grand their first crime actually was, bloodbath of the century -they would call it, seventeen slaughtered heroes, followed by their families, including women and children, thousands of millions of ¥ in money laundering atop of it, all within a span of 4 months, that was years ago, back in their prime.
Now, with eight of them behind bars, the remaining five were able to stay under the radar, distributing whatever money they were able to keep between them and fleeing to different parts of the world. Just because they were apart, didn’t mean they were any less dangerous, The Wise is a prime example for that, brutally murdering three of the undercover heroes sent his way to bring him back to justice, but they weren’t Shinso, he’d try to remind himself.
May their soul rest in peace, they were those heroes he felt dissociated from, the type of heroes to flaunt their powers, monetize the peoples’ knowledge of their quirks, uncover the secrets of their job, they were easy targets for people like The Wise, he’d know their weaknesses and how to take them down before they even think about pursuing him. Now, Mindjack was a different story, he wasn’t held on a pedestal by the people he saves, simply because they don’t recognize him, while he would loath that reality sometimes, he thanks the god for it today, as he’s watching the man’s call out for a drink.
Amethyst eyes scan the remaining screens, widening upon the sight of you looking right back at them, you are a vixen to him, eyes half lidded with a smile so intoxicating it does nothing but entrance whoever was lucky enough to catch its sight. Lace clad fingers wrapping around a piece of paper, you are so beautiful, Shinso tries to stop his mind from wandering, imagining what you wore underneath that angel crafted dress, envisioning what those fingers could do to please him, the same fingers that held the unfolded paper, the word ‘RUN’ smeared across it in lipstick.
Wait a minute, run?
Even before the poor hero could react, the similar satisfying -now dreadful- ding rings in his ear, before the door opens behind him, illuminating the room even more. Shinso stands to face two men, both as surprised as he is to see another occupant in the room. Right before any of them move, the hero opens his mouth and prays to god that whatever way he’s winging it works. “You got a permit to be here?”
Jesus one of you answer, and they both do - the left having fingers curving into talons while the right pulled at strings from the tips of his fingers, both ready to attack - and by god Shinso couldn’t be happier upon hearing a sound, because the minute the word ‘yes’ slips through their lips, Mindjack is smiling like a madman, welcoming the look of glossy eyes and heavy heads like a beloved relative’s return back home.
“Great… Now,” the two manipulated men face him, unaware of the dreaded fate bestowed upon them, while Shinso just can’t seem to keep the glint in his eyes at bay. “Why don’t you put on a show for me,” he breathes, smiling down at the ground before looking at them. ”Choke the fucking life out of each other.” The men don’t even blink, quick to face each other and jump, hands wrapped around throats like a vice, Shinso only moves away from the men on the floor as they thrash and kick at each other, limbs flailing as they try to force the life out of each other.
Turning his back against them, Shinso eyes the screen he was monitoring before their entrance, ignoring the groans and gasps of air behind him. He curses under his breath when he sees The Wise getting up from his place, heading towards a room that is supposed to be monitored by screen #6, but is purposely out of service. If he isn’t able to question The Wise or even keep an eye on him, then he’s gonna head on over to the next best thing. Gargled screams echo through the corridor as the hero makes his exit, making sure the door clicks shut behind him, he wouldn’t want to cause disturbance to the esteemed guests of the society of lowlifes.
Mindjack works in dingy jobs with filthy manipulative men in black markets and the human trafficking industry, killing machines that didn’t spare the live of the innocents, so why should he spare theirs?
Shinso makes it back to the main event, immediately finding you between guests, sitting so pretty on the poker table, eyes drawing him closer, the grin adorning your lips now wobbly, easy for him to distinguish as fake, forced, a façade kept for the people surrounding the table. He is hasteful in settling himself in the chair near you, shoulders tense when different pairs of eyes fall upon him, the dealer shuffles the deck to draw cards for Shinso, but you hold your hand out with a smile. “He’ll sit this one out, by my lucky onlooker.” A round of laughter causes Shinso to flush in embarrassment, feeling degraded and looked down upon by all these lowlifes, petty thieves and criminals, thinking they’re better than him, oh he’ll show them.(1)
It takes a few rounds for the table to empty out, now occupied by Shinso and yourself, the dealer asks him to move over to the next chair before they start their game. “Place your bets.” you’re quick to slide over a few of your chips to his side - some black, others red and blue, he didn’t really pay that much attention to them- your eyes daring him to reject your invitation to take the money to play.
He only blinks at you, his eyes seemingly never wanting to lose sight of you as he fights with himself to sit straight to face the dealer again, the man proceeds to deal both of you the cards for you to review before placing your bets. “You tricked me.” Shinso is almost appalled at the hurt laced in his voice, as if the two of you had a bond that was never meant to be broken. “don’t believe so, told you to run didn’ I?” The mockery in your voice is a hoax, the single twitch in your brow catches his attention and he can only deem it as you being stressed, whether it be because of the ordeal regarding the surveillance room or not is beyond him. No, he was stupid and foolish and he will not fall for your silly games again. “Exactly, you knew they were coming.” you hum in response to his accusation.
“Call.” Dropping a few of your chips on the table, your eyes shift momentarily to him, “I did, I said I’d help you and here I am.” He slams his bet on the table, ‘Raise’ gritted right through his teeth at your words. “I don’t want your help!” He reveals his cards on the table, a way to show his disinterest in your assistance as the dealer announces ‘Flush’ at his hand. Your eyes meet again from above your cards, now narrowing down instead of the half lidded look you seem to always have “You don’t want it, but you need it.” The façade you held before is slowly but surely breaking, now a deep frown tugging at your lip as you reveal your own hand, brows furrowing even further in challenge as you hum in displeasure when the dealer announces your ‘Full House’ hand to be the winner of this round.(2)
Shinso moves swiftly to stand when he sees you do the same, right before his entire world starts to spin, lights and colors mingling together and causing his head to spin, he sits down again, head between his hands as he tries to calm himself down, it's probably the strain of the mission, maybe it’s the weight bestowed upon his shoulders to finish it up. The hero lifts his head up to ask you, about something he himself isn’t even sure of, he just wants to hear your voice, like a drug to him that he can’t help but ask for more. Except when he does, you aren’t there, the table is occupied by different people, the dealer is another man with longer hair and slimmer figure, and by god did Shinso want to rip his hair out.
The minute he feels like he could get back on his own to feet without falling down on his ass, Hitoshi is quick to check his pockets, adamant to find a clue your sneaky hands slid into one of his pockets while he was out, despite the tantrum he almost threw at not wanting your help nor guidance, and he does find something, a simple metal key, attached to it was a tag with the number XIII on it.
In his shock, he almost drops the key on the ground but barely holds himself together to avoid any further embarrassment, Shinso takes deep breaths, knowing that the key in his possession is his entry to the heart of the organization, and especially to The Wise.
Every year, specifically at the Vice City annual auction afterparty, The Wise holds a meeting with the most dangerous men within the continent, the most loathsome masterminds of the criminal world, all in the hopes of recruiting one of them into the organization, to uphold its name and spread its message. Every year, with no recruitment yet.
With trembling hands, Shinso stuffs the key back into his pocket, eyes on the lookout for anyone who might’ve caught the key in his hand, but sighs in relief when he sees some engrossed in their meaningless poker and absurd talks, while the majority have made their way to the next hall over for the auction that is being held. He takes the stairs three at a time up the floors, facing a red oak double door, the same forsaken number engraved into it. After multiple failed attempts at inserting the key in the lock, he finally does with a huff, hearing the lock echoing in his ears before pushing the door open.
To be honest, Shinso didn’t know what he was expecting to see on the other side of the door, he thought maybe he’d watch weaponry trade off, perhaps people brawling and fighting amongst each other for the title of being the new members. But he certainly didn’t expect to be engulfed in jazz music, men with their cigars laughing and chatting, without a single care in the world, as if their hands weren’t tainted with the blood of the innocents, oh how he loathed them. In an attempt to fit in, he grabs a glass of whiskey from the butler standing by the door, nodding to him in thanks before moseying his way over to the corner in the room, he’d be damned if he got caught in the crossfire of those lunatics.
A stage is set up in the front of the room, and it takes a second for him to acknowledge the pole placed right at its center, it takes him another few seconds to see the beauty dancing on that pole, Shinso’s eyes rake her body without his knowledge, he admires the lingerie adorning her body, hugging her in all the right places, garter snug against her thighs as she twirls, her legs looking endless in those heels he wonders how she can dance so elegantly with them on… wait a minute.
As if predicting the minute he realized it was you, you twirl to face him, lips pulled into a smile yet again, a giggle interrupting your humming as your body twists and turns on the pole. Shinso isn’t really sure how long he sits there captivated by your body, the only thing breaking his trance is the clap on his back and the heavy weight that sits next to him. “Beauty, isn’t she?”
Bile rises to Shinso’s throat at the mere sound of the person next to him, fear stills him in his place, restricting any movement he’s even thinking of doing, all he could do is sit, widened eyes and sweaty brows at the sight of The Wise right beside him.
“Don’cha love it when women like her,” The Wise points at you with his cigar, “work to please men like us?” His arm now completely wrapped around Shinso’s shoulder as the hero feels his soul levitating from his body. “Look aroun’ya,” and he does, and only then does he really pay attention, he should’ve seen it all along, the glossy eyes, the droopy heads, it's a sight he was so well accustomed to that his brain normalized it to him. With whatever courage he musters up, he shifts his eyes to look at the man beside him, noticing the ear plugs he wore, and right then the gears start to turn in his head. “My most prized possession I tell’ya.”
Of course you would be, how else would you have access to all these things, the card, the key, the vanishing from thin air, it all makes sense now.
“Enjoying yourselves, gentlemen?” your words are flowing like honey to his ears, a low buzz ringing in his brain as you spoke to the men in front of you. His ability to frown is nonexistent, a relaxed look adorning his face as he looks up at you, so elegant and beautiful in whatever hugged that miracle of a body.
“Sure are,” The Wise jerks Shinso by the shoulder, and he realizes that was done to break whatever trance he was in, he could only glare back at you when you smile at them, that conniving smile that hosted all the lies you spouted to him.
“y/n,” He calls you and by God if this isn’t the most beautiful name Shinso ever hears, what a shame it's being tainted by the voice of this criminal. “Wadda ya say to takin’ this fine boy to the red room, hm?” The man urges him to stand and take your hand, which he did at the blink of an eye, his body moving on it’s own to graze his lips against your knuckles in a breathless kiss. “Treat’m real nice for me.” The hero’s feet take him to follow you, his steps light, like walking on clouds, the sway of your hips pulling him closer to you until his chest is flush against your back, pushing you to move faster into the room you are pointed towards.
Walking aimlessly through hallways, taking lefts and rights he would never be able to recollect in his current state, you both enter a room, red just like The Wise called it, crimson silk sheets fitted on a king sized bed, maroon loveseats and plush carpets, everything in that red hue that it's almost nauseating.
Bringing your hands in a loud clap, the fogginess in Shinso’s vision dissolves, your creased brows and frown now more prominent to him than ever, his eyes catch the scar trailing from the back of your neck to your cleavage, confused as to why his usual perceptive self would miss it, but then again, he doesn’t feel like he was ever himself throughout this whole ordeal.
To say he was furious is an understatement, he never felt more played in his life, he is Mindjack, the most conniving hero of all of Japan, he was manipulative and sly , known by his people to get jobs done, no matter who his opponent is, he always comes back victorious. And when his ears pick up your sigh of relief, he could only see red, he is hurt, he is scared, but now its his act, his turn to fuck shit up, he wants to hurt, he wants to scare.
“Fuckin’ lying bitch,” It takes him all but two steps for his body to graze yours, tantalizing eyes boring down into yours as you gasp at the close proximity, “you were workin’ with’em this entire fuckin’ time?”
“N-no that’s not it,” you stutter, flustered at his overwhelming presence, trying to put some distance between you and the fuming man by pushing his chest, “Please, I need you to listen to me.”
“Oh, now you’re beggin’ hmm?” his firm warm hands circle your wrists, tugging them away from his body and using them to pull you even closer to him, his breath now grazing the tops of your cheeks, “Didn’t your boss tell you to treat me right?” he breathes, “well, get to it, slut.”
“That’s not what this is Hitoshi, just listen-” for the love of all that’s pure in this world, why does the sound of his name exceed his perception of how happiness is supposed to reverberate in his ear? “Keep my name outta your mouth, or I swear,” He hisses at you, the grip on your wrists tightening as you whimper out in pain.
“You think you can just toy with me? Have me running around and following your orders like a lil bitch!?” He sees you trembling, lips wobbly and in tears, how ironic, he doesn’t know a few words would get you to start tearing up, the change in demeanor from when he first met you confuses him for a second, but only a second, because he’ll be damned if he falls for any of your tricks anymore. “N-no, I swear it isn’t like that, just p-please, please c-calm down! Let me explain myself-” the ugly cackle he lets out shuts you up, teary eyes widening as they fall on his, the aura he’s radiating is terrifying to say the least, your knees shaking in dread at what’s about to fold.
“You think you can play my game and win?”
It takes you a minute to answer, the word no echoing in your head, throbbing in your brain so painfully you forget the words that follow it, but what you can’t forget, what you will never forget, no matter how delirious you feel, is the look of pure sin across Shinso’s face, grin rivaling that of the Cheshire cat, because you were now simply a measly little pawn in his game.
Mindjack works in dingy jobs with filthy manipulative men in black markets and the human trafficking industry, criminals that broke every law in their way to get what they desire, so why couldn’t he indulge even a little himself?
He lets go of your wrists, watching as your arms sway next to your body like dead weight before he turns around to flop down on the loveseat, legs spread wide as he waves his hand over to you.
“Waddaya waitin’ for,” he knows you can’t answer him, but it feels so fucking good to hold such power over you after all you’ve put him through. “Now, strip.” the surge of power he feels jolts his dick up in excitement as he watches you take off your lingerie, moves robotic and forced, eyes glazed over both with tears and his control over your dumb little brain. Hitoshi is no villain, he is a respectable hero, but he’s been called that all his childhood, he might as well live up to that expectation, one way or another.
Shinso stands when you’re fully naked in front of him, long legs circling you and taking you all in, the back of his hand grazes your nipple and he all but groans as it pebbles at his touch. But god, he was nowhere near being done with you.
“Spread your legs for me on that bed,” he grins at the way you follow his orders even before he asks, “will ya?” you settle yourself on the bed before slowly dropping your weight on your back, hazy eyes staring up into the ceiling as your arms bring themselves down to circle the back of your knees, pulling them up close to your chest to expose yourself to him.
Shinso’s cock twitches in his pants again at the opportunity to just seath it into you without any warning, but he barely holds himself back, approaching your body and feeling himself salivating at the sight, what a sight it is, your pussy looking so fucking beautiful clenching over nothing, the sight tempting him to just dive his face right in to get a taste of your juices.
Taking off his suit jacket and rolling the sleeves of his shirt, Shinso presses his thumb to your clit, frowning when he notices how dry you are, of course you would be, he chuckles to no one, puckering his lip to spit right at the nub, watching it trail down to your clenching hole, the sight igniting a flame within him, he does it again, simply to watch your spit hide in your cunt, impatient to follow suit and bury himself in there.
His thumb is quick to draw circles with your clit, needing for your orgasm to wash over you quickly, eager for the things he’d do to you after he preps you enough to take him. The usual comforting silence is thick between you, no moans escaping your ajar mouth as your arousal seeps out of your pussy, he prods your hole with his finger to collect your nectar, smearing it across your clit again to rub even faster against it.
The only indication of you coming undone is when your thighs start to shake, your body curling in on itself as your back arches, your cunt gushing on his fingers, and Shinso is almost disappointed to not hear you moan out his name in pleasure. But he isn’t that disheartened, he’s bound to hear you scream.
You on the other hand, are petrified at the way your body is being handled, feeling yourself looking down at the horror being folded in front of you, this isn’t you, this is a shell of who you are, wrapped around his finger, at his mercy, and you want out, no matter the cost. But, you are to regret these words, because you see him unbuckling his belt, you hear the zipper drilling in your ear, and you watch him lay atop you, feeling your lungs constrict at the weight settling upon it, and to your utmost terror, the only thing that breaks his bind on you is when you feel his warm head prodding at your entrance, right before seething completely in, your throat prickling when you wail hoarsely in pain at feeling like being split into two.
“No, nonononon, st-stop please, please!” You’re crying, legs thrashing and arms flailing trying to push this monster off of you, but you can’t, you think as your walls pulsate in pain at the intrusion, you’ll never be able to with him placing his entire weight on you like that, and the way he pulls out before impaling you again has you seeing stars in the worst way possible. Desperate for an escape, you grab a chuck of his hair, your nails digging into his scalp before you yank, your jaw throbbing at how tight you clench your teeth in pain and disgust and pure panic. The strength you muster to pull his head up is in vain, because it only jerks his face deeper into your neck, right where your scar trails, and he bites, so hard you’re certain it draws blood.
Only then does he lift his head up, his upper lip smeared with a smidge of blood, your blood, before he spits right into your mouth. Sick to your stomach at the metallic taste invading your taste buds, you spit right up at him, mindless to the debris falling right back at your face, your mascara running down your cheeks as you sneer up at him. Even as he laughs teasingly at you.
“Don’t worry slut,” He rasps, his nose brushing against yours as his thrusts find a pace, pulling out to the tip before pushing himself fully inside, “It’ll feel good in a minute.” and it does, he feels more of your arousal coating his cock as he snaps his hips against yours, your wails and whimpers slowly yet surely are coated more with lust as you moan out his name. “See tha’, almost too easy…” almost too good to be true.
And it is, because when his eyes struggle to find yours, he is reminded by the feeling that overtook him this entire evening, and when he sees the corner of your lips pull lightly does he want to rip your head right out, but the minute he moves his hand, he is overwhelmed by how wobbly he feels, how your face distorts and misshapes before he is met with the sight of the ceiling, the sight you grew accustomed to when he was taking advantage of your unconsciousness.
He groans when he feels you impaling yourself on his cock, pussy clenching so tight as you bop yourself up and down his shaft, your tits bouncing with you as he looks up at you, so mesmerized and entranced by your beauty all he does is hold your hips, helping you lift yourself up before dropping you on him, the squelching sound that follows it music to his ears.
You plant your hands against his chest, hips rolling as you pant at his lips, both of you so drunk on the feeling of each other and chasing your highs, “You gonna listen to me, when I ask you to?” His hand claps against your ass at your question, “Yes, yes oh God, anythin’ just don’t stop.” He can’t help but want more of you, want to feel his cock push against you even further, so he plants his feet firm against the bed, hand grabbing handfuls of your ass as he starts thrusting up at you, moaning against your neck when he shoots ropes of his cum inside of your sopping cunt, squeezing him so tight and milking him, and all of what Shinso remembers is the way you arch your back, pressing your chest against his as your whimper out his name, as he feels your juices dripping against his balls and down on the sheets beneath you. After that, all he could see was black.
Shinso awakes startled, eyes darting in alarm before he relaxes when he confirms he’s alone, the red silky sheets now draped over his lower body, pooling at his lap when he sits up to look around once more, desperate for any sign of you. Yet he only sees a brown folder on top of the love seat, impressively thick with the amount of papers stacked inside it, and when Shinso reaches for it, he catches the note that slipped off and draped down on the floor, reading it and scowling at it. ‘You promised you’d listen’
And boy is he more than lucky to listen to you when you asked him to. Because that folder has every tiny little detail he needs to know about The Wise, from the quirks of his circulating bodyguards to the keys to his multiple homes within the world. Pictures upon pictures of the man, decoded letters and basically intel on his entire criminal record.
Fucking finally, Shinso gets to just go home no that everything’s over and done with.
Limited Edition Sneak Peek:
It is way too early for Shinso, the sun glaring at him as he makes his way into the agency, the honking cars and chattering people feeding into his migraine so early in the morning, and he groans as he pushes his door open, ready to get back to his regular routine after the incident at Vice City.
It hasn’t been even a week, but it sure was eventful, using the folder you left him, Mindjack was able to capture The Wise the very next day, via the map of the routes he takes that was attached in the folder. They were able to ambush him, easily being able to bring the right heroes for the job to overcome the quirks of both his workers and himself. Now the mastermind of Organization XIII was behind bars, making the job of catching the remaining members now much easier.
It almost felt like child’s play, at least, that’s what the heroes made it out to be, flexing their powers and their potential, when they were well aware that all their efforts would’ve been in vain if you and your folder weren't there to aid them in every step.
To say that guilt ate him up is an understatement, he feels himself decaying from the inside out from resentment, he figures he spent too much time in the dark, that it started to mess with him, manipulate him, carve him into someone he isn’t, someone that isn’t fit to be a hero. He feels like was walking into a tunnel with no way out, engulfed and trapped in pure merciless darkness, that ate away at his soul every step he took further in.
Shinso trudges up the stairs with a heavy heart, the dread at what he did to you, especially that your intent to help him didn’t waver despite his actions loomed over him, and he couldn’t remember the last time he felt like he didn’t deserve the life that he’s living in right now.
Yet, the saying ‘there's a light at the end of the tunnel’ rings in his ear, the minute he opens up the door to his office, eyes widening at the sight before him, smile so dazzlingly sweet, a voice just like silk, weaving around him and entrancing him as the words captivated him despite their simplicity.
“Missed me, Hitoshi?”
(1) its common in poker for women to be onlookers, like the wives of the players for example, the jab at him being an onlooker is basically just a sexist joke to make the people around the table laugh to ease their mind.
(2) to help gain more perspective about the poker scene you can read the elaboration here
Aaaand more about the reader’s quirk here!
Hope you enjoyed! Also, PLEASE if you could theorize with me after reading the fic I’d love you forever, ask me about the reader’s quirk, ask me about some hidden meanings between the scenes JUST ANYTHING. MWAH
@hanji-is-life @anarchicmartyr @sleepykyan @yourprincess-maybe @wolfygirl1900 @tteokdoroki
@theehoneybunii @nanamisbento (not sure if you wanted to be tagged for bakuhoe only of all my fics, so sorry if its the former!)
if you want to be tagged with for any of my fics let me know ♡
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Quicksilver - New Neighbour
This is a reader insert, set around the 80s in Wandavision, where you are the Maximoff’s new neighbour, and also a baby sitter. Uncle Peter takes a liking to you ;)
Fluff, some heated moments but it’s not outright smut, mostly self indulgent, no crazy angst/plot details, it’s just a fun sitcom au.
Westview. Home of the fan favourite show no one could ever watch, unless they were hooked up to a very old television that was tuned into a broadcast frequency secretly tucked away under a massive amount of CMBR. The glimpse you saw was a show of wacky characters, silly plots and fights, occasional serious moments that would significantly give a message about the importance of family and love. Wanda’s new reality was no more than a wholesome place filled to the absolute brim with love.
Love? Or the consequence of experiencing extreme grief in the last few years? You weren’t sure. All you knew was that your head was aching. Overwhelmingly, you could feel an intense sensation of wanting to huddle up and sob. Your chest felt tight and your stomach felt overwhelmingly hollow. Where am I? Why does my head hurt so-
And it became apparent that the wacky sitcom you were imagining, was real.
Heading down a street in a very classic suburban neighbourhood, you were a bit disoriented. You knew your name was y/n. But why did you feel this overwhelming urge to monologue to someone about the current problem in the show, whatever it was? And why were you wearing a lavender jumpsuit with a rather large bomber jacket, as if it was the 80s again?
I’ve obviously just moved to Westview… I’m a mid 20s writer, looking to make some spare cash from baby-sitting. There are two important children I need to babysit. I just need to find my house and live there forever and ev-
“Ouch!” You tripped over a woman dressed in some solid, bright clothing, very reminiscent of the 80s. Her black hair was curled and permed and piled atop her head haphazardly, as if at any moment it would topple over. She lifted herself up and extended a hand to your currently deer-in-headlights reenacting self.
Summoning the courage to speak, you stood up. “ Oh my god, I’m so sorry-”
“Oh Howdy dear! You must be Y/n. You’re new, right? I just saw your name on the new house next to the Visions. I’m sure you’ll love Wanda, she’s a sweet young thing just like you. Sure to get along great! Come with me!” And she grabbed your arm and off you set.
You might be in a sitcom, but that was a lot of exposition about your place here. Either way, you were excited! New house, new friends. It was sure to fill the overwhelming lonely feeling in your stomach.
As you walked, Agnes (as you now knew her to be) asked several questions, detailing about how old you were, where did you get this snazzy jumpsuit, what your job was like, why didn’t you have a family, where is your boyfriend? A beau coming later, perhaps?
“I don’t have a beau,” you smiled exasperatedly after the onslaught of questions, “although I would really like to have one… maybe? One day? For now I’m just happy on my own.”
You must have not been very convincing because Agnes let out a long bellow of a laugh.
“But you’re absolutely adorable! Any man would be incredibly grateful to have you.” Agnes gushed, noticing that you didn’t really look sure of yourself. She was positive to give you a little extra courage, at least by the end of this episode.
You laughed mirthlessly. “That’s very kind of you, Agnes, but I’m just me. Just a regular writer girl. I’m not overselling myself here.”
“Well you’re certainly not doing yourself a favour like that, Ralph had to become a regular salesman before I married him!” Agnes cackled, as she pulled you towards your house.
“It certainly is a large house for just me.” As you walked in, taking the expanse of the living room and kitchen in. You didn’t want to think about the nights here, alone with your journals but no one else to keep you company.
“Maybe, but that’s what inviting friends are for! Feel free to call me anytime and make sure you meet Wanda soon!! She’s gonna love ya, bye!!” and Agnes walked out promptly, leaving you to decorating and trying to make the house feel more homey.
You picked yourself after an excruciating round of unpacking boxes, knowing it was time to greet Wanda. Wanda Maximoff, the name sounded rather familiar. But you chalked it up to general knowledge and just hoped she was as sweet as Agnes painted her to be.
Mom of two, a little eccentric, from Sokovia, husband’s name is Vision, apparently very pretty, good heart, likes to talk a lot to people.
She sounded really nice on paper, you rationalized, as you rang the doorbell. The door swang open really fast, and you moved back a bit so as to not get hit.
“Hi there, who are you? I’ve never seen someone like you here and trust me, I’d remember.” A nonchalant, rather confident man was resting against the doorframe. You noticed his hair was entirely silver but he was not old. He was wearing a loose button up shirt and black jeans. But one detail really stuck out to you. He was insanely cute, with a sort of snarky eyebrow raise and a goofy laugh. You were sure that your face was turning red from the sort of self aware stare he was giving you, as he eyed your reaction.
Is this Wanda’s husband? Did he just insinuate he would remember me? Oh wow am I starting an affair somehow-
“Hello, new girl? You haven’t said anything for a solid 3 seconds and for me, that’s a lot of time. Some of us have stuff to do.” He moved impossibly fast and close to you, leaving you with not much room on the porch without having to be in his personal bubble.
“Uh, are you Wanda’s husband?” You said softly. He immediately broke out in a large grin.
“Ha! You think I’m husband material?!” He started laughing and you started to smile a little, in confusion, and in embarrassment.
“No no no. I’m that brat’s older brother. Well, twin brother to be honest, but I am a little older. She’s squeaky clean and definitely would never be my type, if we were in some weird cousinly alabama style relationship,” He talked alarmingly fast, almost as if the words were just air he was breathing. As he talked, he came closer and closer to you without noticing.
“Anyways, I can’t believe you thought I was Vision, that tall stick in the mud! If I’m being honest, he is mud personified.” At this point he was so close you could make out some freckles on his face, as well as a bit of stubble. He knew he was close to your face and smiled fondly at you again, as if that was possible. You turned your head over a bit, trying not to make too much eye contact with this guy who had no sense of personal space, not that you minded that. He was still staring.
“Right, so I’m Y/n. I just moved in next door, and I was coming to say hi to my new neighbours.” You looked up at him, feeling strangely very comfortable around this guy. He might have been quick on his feet, and quick to talk, but something about his style of talking made you feel as if you were truly being listened to. He had a response for everything you could say, unlike your journals.
“Y/n, you say? That’s a pretty name for a cute girl.” You felt your face heat up again. Did he enjoy saying things like this so blatantly? You let yourself have a bit of courage to stare at his face again, and he was definitely getting a good look at your features.
He waved his hand in and you made your way inside the very large house, where you saw two young twin boys watching TV, and a woman cleaning in the kitchen.
“I’m Pietro. I go by Peter too, if that’s easy for you, new neighbour lady.” Peter tapped your shoulder lightly, letting you get bumped into him.
“Uncle Pietro brought a new neighbour!!” The twins, on hearing this, both ran around you and started tugging both of your arms.
“Now, boys, you can’t scare away the neighbour, she just moved in. Stop tugging her arms and let her sit down!” A redhead woman came and scolded the boys lightly. Her hair was curly and her features were rather reminiscent of Peter’s, except, well, prettier? This must be Wanda.
Is this whole family just stunning or what, you thought to yourself.
“I’m Y/n, I’m so happy to meet you guys! I don’t really know anyone else out here yet, except for Agnes,” you exclaimed as you sat down at the very retro styled couch.
“Well it’s absolutely wonderful to meet you, Y/n. I’ve been hoping to make even more friends here and look, there you are!” Wanda came in and gave you a hug. Aw.
Peter snorted quietly. “She means she just wants a new woman to gossip with about that evil Dottie lady. Wanda is terrified of her.”
Wanda shoved him but she was laughing. “We both know that woman isn’t human, Pietro. She’s probably the devil or something.” You laughed along, wondering what could be wrong with someone named Dottie.
Wanda suddenly got up. “Oh!”
You stood up as well. “Oh? What’s the matter, Wanda?”
Her large eyes were definitely panicked looking, even if she tried to smile at you to reassure. “I just remembered, I was supposed to help Dottie set up her annual Bake Sale today and I completely forgot!!”
Peter snorted again. “See, I told you. Ter-ree-fied.”
You didn’t want to laugh, but he made it sound so humorous. He smirked knowingly at you, and you were sure the goal was to make you laugh.
You swallowed your laughter and turned to the panicked woman next to you. “Wanda, listen to me. I baby-sit all the time. I can baby-sit your twins, and you will still have time to help Dottie. It’s still before noon.”
Peter looked at Wanda carefully. “Well, you don’t trust me with them."
She held your hands in gratitude, “Oh, thank you thank you thank you! This is all I needed for today. You’re already going to be a great neighbour around here.”
Wanda ran into the closet, threw on a jacket and some shoes, and ran back out the front door.
Leaving you with the twins. And Peter.
The twins were already fairly obedient boys, so when you suggested playing in the backyard for a bit, instead of straining their eyes at the television for too long, they jumped at the opportunity.
They had told you their names were Billy and Tommy, and that they hoped you liked Cadbury chocolate easter eggs, because they had a whole bunch to give you.
“But only if you and Peter stay inside, Y/n!” They giggled as they ran outside, stealing looks at each other.
You had been extraordinarily aware of the man’s constant stares, as well as his poking and prodding, and his quippy sense of humor. To say you were tongue tied was a complete understatement. He had just gone upstairs to “let off some steam”, but he was going to be back as soon as possible.
Does letting off some steam mean what I think it does? You gulped, not wanting to think of your neighbour so lewdly only half an hour after meeting him. You heard something that sounded like very repetitive and fast stomping, so you became unconvinced that he was up there pleasuring himself.
It sounded kind of like running… but if he was running extremely extremely fast.
Billy and Tommy were still playing tag outside and you were getting kind of bored, when Peter suddenly rustled your hair as he walked to the kitchen.
“O-oh!” You didn’t even see him coming downstairs. You had been too enthralled in your thoughts about him, if you were being honest.
“Did I scare you, neighbour? Sorry. I didn’t want to leave you alone for too long.” He called from the kitchen, seeing how flustered he made you with just a fond touch. He wondered absentmindedly what would happen if he did a little bit more.
“No not at all, I was just thinking about when you’d be back, and you scared me.” You instantly regretted this, as Peter had a shit-eating grin on his face now.
“Awww thinking about me, I see? Am I that interesting to your doe eyes?” He laughed, drinking up a glass of water.
“N-no, not like that!” Peter lazily jumped on the couch, lying down next to you as you tried to finish your sentence. He stared up at your face, and you looked away again.
“I-I just mean that I heard really fast running upstairs. I was just confused, that’s all.”
Peter blinked. Out of all the things he guessed you were going to say, this was not it.
“Ah… yeah, I just like to get in a bit of cardio. That’s what I meant by letting off some steam.” He smiled, but it was a genuine smile, this time. “You’re incredibly perceptive.”
“I’ve noticed, you very carefully took in all the details of our house as you walked in. You counted all the doors, made a mental note of the boys, you were taking in Wanda’s face very carefully, as well as mine. Hell, you probably think I’m handsome. Not that I would mind that.” He laughed softly, as your mind was processing what he said very slowly.
You turned red and hit his head lightly, as he started giggling at your reaction.
“So you do think I’m cute!”
“So what if I do, you’re the one who said I’m memorable and cute first!” You scolded him for catching you off guard.
“Oh yes, but it’s nice to see that you’re reciprocating. Not many women would.” He lightly nudged your lap with the top of his head.
“Oh well, um… thank you. That’s really nice of you to say that I’m perceptive, actually,” You looked down at him, feeling again flustered but grateful for the compliment. “I’m a writer, I’m planning to become a journalist in the future, so it means a lot that someone can see my positive attributes.”
“Not to say too much, but you’ve got a ton of positive attributes. You helped out my sis in a pinch. The boys find it easy to talk to you. And you’re clearly really smart. And it doesn’t hurt that all this knowledge is inside one very nice head.” He was lost in thought for a bit. “And you live next door. That’s nice because I’ll have someone to talk to now.”
You frowned. “Don’t you have your sister?”
“Sure, but I’ve known her my whole life.” He scoffed.
“Any buddies from college?”
“What about Vis-”
He sat up straight. “Vision is not really… that friendly towards me. But that’s because he thinks I’m a freeloading uncle. Which I kind of am.”
You patted his arm. “There, there. Y/n is here to help out. I’ll talk to you, because you clearly have a lot to say,” he smiled as he looked at you.
“But why don’t you have any friends?”
Peter grimaced, unsure of how to explain. Telling you about the mutant gene in his blood was a no-go.
“Basically, I can get a little too real for some people. A little bit unnecessarily mean, but it’s usually in good fun. I didn’t realize that people were starting to gossip about me teasing them, and now I’m known as the freeloading asshole uncle Maximoff.” He sighed. It wasn’t untrue.
“But you’ve been so nice to me this whole time!” You were a bit louder than you meant to be, and he looked at you. “Oh- sorry, I just mean that I don’t see how you’re mean.”
“Well, I definitely toned it down after those rumours, but no one has really made the attempt to talk to me again. Until you, newbie.” He grinned again.
“Well, I could always tell people that you’re a lot nicer than they think, and if they wanted to stop thinking you’re a freeloader, you could always stay at my spare room and also get a jo-”
“Whoa whoa whoa hold the phone. Are you hitting on me, Y/n?” You would have been concerned if not for the slight blush on his face.
“Why? Am I not helping a neighbour out, here?” You tilted your head, confused.
“Talking about me is fine and all… but what about living in the same house as you?” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Isn’t that kind of suggestive? You’re already trying to rope me into sleeping with you, wow Y/n, I would have never pegged you for that kind of girl.”
You rolled your eyes trying not too turn to red at the thoughts Peter was clearly trying to make you think. “I didn’t mean it like that!”
“I’m just messing with you, but are you really serious?” Peter looked at you carefully. “If I were to stay in your spare room, it could be kind of awkward for you and your own personal space. And I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable either. It’s completely your call. And word gets out fast, if you let me stay over, your other potential suitors are going to find out.” He rambled on.
“I don’t usually do this, but I can tell you’re not a bad guy. And I might be kind of biased. This is one of the most engaging conversations I’ve had,” you looked at him, staring at you very intently, “and it helps that you’re not bad on the eyes. The fact that you’re totally worried about my sake tells me everything I need to know about you. Heck, I’m lonely too, and it would be nice if my house wasn’t so empty.”
“Not bad on the eyes, huh?”
“Shut up, you still started it! ‘Potential Suitors’, there aren’t any out there.”
“This has to be a lie, I’m positive as you walked through the neighbourhood you were giving all the bachelors a heart attack.”
And with that, Peter squeezed your arm and told you he would let you know, really really soon. And then he kissed your cheek, feather light, and ran away much faster than you thought was possible.
And you knew you were totally smitten.
As you corralled Billy and Tommy, they both starting needling you about Peter. Asking if you thought he was cool just like they did. You smiled at them and insisted that while you did, it was definitely time for a nap. They nodded, rubbing their eyes, but that didn’t stop Billy from pulling out a Cadbury chocolate egg from who knows where, and giving it to you.
As you tucked them into bed and turned off the lights, Wanda came home and was extremely grateful towards you.
“Y/n, you’re truly an angel. The fact that you offered so quickly to watch over Billy and Tommy, it genuinely means so much to me.” She offered to pay you, but it was far too much.
“It’s totally alright! I didn’t have anything to do today and Peter kept me company anyways. It was a good break from moving in.” You sighed, in the way that any head over heels girl would after such a meet-cute.
This didn’t go unnoticed by Wanda, who immediately gasped and grabbed your hands. “So you got along with Pietro? Oh, this is great news!!”
She squeezed you in a really tight hug, and you felt your bones being crushed by superhero level strength. “So, he actually talked to you? He wasn’t just a snarky asshole?” Wanda whispered.
“He more than talked. I got a really good understanding of him, and he seems so… smart? He’s actually hiding a lot of wisdom under the jokes. And I offered to talk to him a lot more, if that’s what makes him happy.” You explained. “I even told him he could stay at my spare room for a bit, just until he gets back on his feet.”
Wanda’s eyes widened a lot. You got kind of nervous, unsure if you were overstepping boundaries. But then she gave you a sly smile.
“So, you like him that much, huh?” You began to protest but Wanda just laughed. “It’s okay! I could tell from how long he spent talking to you at the door, he likes you too. I would never deny him the chance to pursue someone he liked. As long as you really do like him too.”
“Oh, this reminds me of when I first met Vis. It’s always great when you find a person you can talk to without judgement. It’s like you’re both on the same wavelength.” Wanda gave you a similar Maximoff squeeze as Peter did.
“But if he tries anything too soon, you can tell me, and I’ll kick his ass!” And she flexed her arms as you giggled.
For the next week, you continued to work at the newspaper agency that had graciously given you a job. It allowed you to pursue writing, finally, in a way that satisfied your needs. When you got home, you usually ended up finding yourself at the Maximoff house in some way or another. The twin boys were easy to play with and talk to, and Wanda had so many interesting stories about her Sokovian days. Vision was also pretty kind after he got back from work, usually choosing to talk about his uncertainties about the world around him.
Most importantly, you found yourself talking to Peter a whole lot. He would tell you about his day, which usually was about walking through the neighbourhood, talking to a few neighbours, trying to reassure people he wasn't a bad person. He told you about his hopes, how he lived in the past, why he spent so much time away from Wanda and her kids. He trusted you extremely. You were able to tell him some of the stories you had written, hoping to get them published some day, if only you could find a publisher who would give you the chance. Peter was always there to support you for that. You looked forward to these conversations the most, and as you kept talking to him, you could tell you were not the only one.
As you woke up in your bedroom a week later, you walked to your washroom and brushed your teeth. You took a quick shower and came back to your bedroom, deciding to dry your hair. As you took the towel and started drying, you reached up your arms, and your cropped top was riding up quite a bit, revealing your smooth expanse of a stomach towards your window.
It was then that the curtains on the other window of the Maximoff house opened.
Peter had just woken up, by the looks of it, but he finished rubbing his eyes and looked out to see the morning light, probably. What he saw instead was a pretty good look at your stomach and body stretching ever so taut.
He flushed extremely. First, a super cute girl moves right next door, she is incredibly nice and intelligent, she gets along great with him, and now he knows first hand that she has an amazing body. And he wasn’t trying to be a peeping tom in the slightest, even if he was rather confident, he would never want to violate your privacy. Before he could look away, you had dropped your towel and were slowly turning red too.
Well, great. Now we have two tongue tied idiots staring at each other, Peter thought.
You hesitantly smiled, hoping you weren’t coming on to him, and Peter smiled back, giving you the “call me” sign. You reached over to your landline and dialed his number.
“Y/n, you nearly gave me a heart attack!! Jeez!”
“Oh my god, Peter, I am so so so sorry. I didn’t mean to come on to you like that. I was just drying my hair, I swear,”
“I’m not complaining but, I am sorry. I didn't mean to peep into your room like that. Maybe you should install some curtains to be safe.”
You sighed, realizing that this could’ve been avoided if you had just installed some curtains. “God, I am so dumb!! What kind of person forgets curtains?”
“Uh, the accidentally hot kind, I guess.” Peter gulped. “Not that I’m trying to say that’s the only way I think of you, because it’s not, I think a lot about the way you are with me, I just couldn’t help myself this morning, because god, you’re actually really attractive. I already knew that, but it’s like I thought I was dreaming until I saw you again.”
“Peter, you talk like the sentence has a time limit.”
“I know! I’m just overcompensating for the amazing image I just saw.”
“... I’ll see you in a bit. Bye!” You hung up fairly quickly and looked out the window again. Peter may have been grinning at you but his face was actually red. You made him blush. Seeing this made you realize that even if one of you was slightly more confident than the other, you were both definitely in the same boat of enamored states.
You threw on some jeans and a muscle tee, fully intending to make it to the Maximoff house first, but you hadn’t taken more than 2 steps outside your front yard when Peter came to you first.
He grabbed your shoulders. “Listen, this is only ever gonna happen once, I give you full permission to punch me in the face.”
“I shouldn’t have looked!”
“You didn’t know! It’s no one’s fault here. We both know it was an accident.” You reassured him.
“Yeah, a happy accident.” Peter snorted, and placed his forehead against yours. “You know I actually like you a lot, right?”
You swallowed. This sounded like a very real confession, one that you wanted to hear so badly, even though you already had so many obvious clues that Peter liked you.
"I, I think you do. I know that I really like you a lot." You said, somehow unsure after the past week of Peter constantly complimenting you.
Peter laughed. "Wow, you're the first person I get to truly be around as myself in years, and you're not even sure if I like you. I know you like me. But I want you to believe that I like you too."
You looked up into his eyes, seeing not one bit of his usual humor, but instead the sincerity of a man who you had grown to like a lot the past few weeks. Even if Peter acted kind of snarky and mean sometimes, there was a real person underneath all that, one who you had grown to trust extremely.
You took a small breath. "Okay. I do believe it."
"Really? Because I don't want to constantly reassure you of this, I don't have the time for that."
"Peter!" You laughed.
"I'm kidding, I'm kidding. I'm there for you." Peter hugged you softly.
"I'm there for you too! In fact, I think you can take the spare room now. It might be a good idea since you got that grocery job recently. It will help you settle into your own life eventually."
Peter was a bit taken aback. Ever since you had first suggested that a few weeks ago, he had thought you were simply offering out of courtesy. But now he felt sure that you actually must have thought so highly of him. And he didn't want to let you down.
"Alright, sure. When's the soonest I can move in?"
"Oh you can't wait, huh?" You scoffed.
Peter gave you a small smirk. "Well after what I saw this morning, who would wait?"
Later that evening, after Peter had specifically packed all 20 boxes very quickly, (Wanda insisted they had all helped him) you and the rest of the Maximoffs were making the short journey towards your house. Sure, it was a couple of feet away, but the twins had wanted to help their uncle and he wasn't one to deny them that.
As Peter placed the last box in your spare room, Billy and Tommy did a little dance around him.
"Uncle Pietro is like a grown up now!"
"Do you think he's in love with Y/n?"
And with that, Peter picked both of them up and flung them around on to your couch.
"What do you two little punks know about love, anyways? Go home!" Peter said in a very fake stern voice. Billy and Tommy hugged him, laughing about his silly fake voice, and started walking back home with Vision.
Wanda gave you a big hug and said, "Remember, he likes you too!" Which was helpful, because as you remembered Peter said a few weeks back, it was definitely true that having him in your personal space meant you were more vulnerable than ever.
But at least you were not lonely.
Then suddenly. It was just the two of you alone. And although your house was big, seeing the other person, who you liked a lot, made the room feel rather hot and small.
"I-I'm going to brush my teeth now."
"I'll do that too." Peter followed you to your one washroom, where you tried your best to make room for his stuff. As you both brushed your teeth, you once again had this sense of familiarity that had echoed over the last few weeks when you were with him.
As you finished up, Peter asked if you were going to head straight to bed. Confused, you tilted your head.
"I was wondering if you wanted to watch some television or just talk again."
"Peter, we could talk at anytime! We're under the same roof now."
"Yeah, but I like being around you."
You sighed, knowing that even if your sleep suffered, you would be happier for this.
You sat close to Peter, but not too close, even though he saw a lot this morning. You just didn’t want to feel like you were trying to force anything.
Peter's body shifted more towards yours as the rerun of the Brady Bunch continued. You could both tell neither one of you were really paying attention to Marcia or Jan.
By the end of the episode, Peter was right next to you, and you could feel his body heat next to yours. You swallowed out of nervousness again. You couldn't lie to yourself. Peter was incredibly handsome and funny and pretty much everything you did not expect when you moved here. You were just about to ask him, even if it was the first day that he moved here, if you already both had mutual feelings, why not just do more?
But you didn't have the nerve.
And apparently you didn't need to. Peter hummed and wrapped his arms around you, drumming his fingers against your waist tantalizingly, but so lightly that he wasn't doing anything outside of your comfort.
"Yes?" You took a good look at his face, trying to decipher what he was thinking. He was deep in thought but his eyes darted towards your mouth more than once.
"I definitely do not want to go too far, but I don't think this is too far. Can I kiss you?"
You sighed in relief. "Yes, of course, I wanted to ask you that myself but I didn't want to push you!"
"How could you push me when I'm the one who's been thinking about you since this morning?"
You both blushed at Peter's words.
And with that, Peter carefully lifted your face towards his, and leaned in. You could feel hot breath fanning from his face, and you were certain that before he would get to your lips something would happen, in this little second that seemed to last minutes. Luckily, nothing interrupted you. Peter's lips were soft but just barely brushing against yours, maybe because this was your first kiss. It wasn't enough, and you found yourself clambering to reach his mouth more, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pushing your mouth against his, finding leverage by climbing on top of his lap.
The kiss became more rushed, less soft, as Peter noticed that you had climbed on to him, he squeezed your waist and pulled you in more. He kissed you with the pent up feelings from this morning, maybe even from the first time he had noticed you. He kept kissing like he was hungry for more but hesitant to keep asking, although he kept his hands roaming over your waist and back and legs.
You put your hand on his chest, and you could hear him groan a little. You wrapped your legs around his torso and decided to kiss him aggressively, as Peter was trying his best to keep things equal. You crashed your lips against his, teeth scraping against his lower lip, and then you met his tongue. As you kissed him with full tongue and you stroked his hair with your hands, Peter squeezed your waist again and moaned into your mouth.
You pulled back, a bit surprised. Peter looked rather sheepish. "Sorry, I've been thinking about this moment all day. Didn’t expect it to be so hot. I almost couldn't control myself."
You blinked. "Maybe you shouldn't…" and smiled. Peter's face was flushed all over from the heated kissing, his hair was all ruffled because of you. You were sure to be in a similar state.
Peter picked you up, went upstairs to your room, and placed you on your bed. It seemed as if he was about to go back to the spare room. But at the last second, he turned around and jumped into your bed, snuggling next to you.
"So, are we just going to sleep tonight?"
"There's plenty of other nights, Peter. For now, let's just keep each other company."
Peter smiled and kissed your forehead softly. "Love you."
“Love you too.”
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