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eowynstwin · 1 year ago

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imprimatura / muses

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish shows up one day to model for your studio class. He's flirtatious, too attractive for his own good, and more interested in you than you'd ever expect him to be. And his boyfriend Ghost is interested too. - ao3

He arrives early as you’re setting up for your students, in jeans and a tight t-shirt, and the first thing that crosses your mind when you lay eyes on him is Jesus, he’s fit.

You are no stranger to bodies. Hundreds of them have cycled through your studio, all shapes and sizes and colors; you think you may know every dip, every roll, every hard angle and soft curve that a human body is capable of holding. The mystique of defined muscle has long lost its novelty. Bodies are bodies, and each holds the same value as the next when subject to brush and canvas. It never matters, you teach your students, what a body looks like in the modeling chair. It only matters if they can reproduce it accurately.

Even so, when a body like this walks in, you really can’t help but take notice.

Decadent muscle, fed and worked well, round and full with hydration. It’s impossible to miss, even through his clothes; each group delineated clearly, gracefully, as if sculpted rather than built, and alive with soft, subcutaneous movement. It’s indulgent to look at, the comfortable breadth of his shoulders and chest down to that slight taper of his waist and bulk of his thick thighs. It’s a physique no hard-bodied gym rat could hope to achieve merely with extra time at the racks—a physique that is easily, harmoniously attractive in its makeup of muscle and healthy fat.

The man is also mohawked and suntanned, and his mouth rests at an angle that suggests he often smiles—as if he knows that Michelangelo would have swooned at the sight of him. He comes into your classroom, saunters over to you, and stops precisely two paces away from you.

“Sergeant John MacTavish,” he says, offering his hand. “I understand you’re the instructor?”

He has gorgeous, vivid blue eyes (pthalo and cremnitz, with a touch of hamsa). You blink several times. Fit is still rattling around your skull, and begins knocking against sergeant at the same rolling frequency as his warm Scottish brogue. You realize his hand is still outstretched and quickly take it to shake.

“Yes!” you say. His palm is tough, callused, and not soft in the slightest, but very warm. “Nice to meet you, sergeant.”

He gives a grimace. “John’s fine. Or Soap.”

“Soap?”

“Nickname, y’know.”

Neither of you have released from the handshake. Soap’s grip is firm, the kind of firm that suggests he can squeeze much, much tighter if he needs to. And if the grip isn’t any indication, the broad forearms, dusted soft with dark brown hair, certainly are.

Black lines, a sword and helmet framed in laurels, catch your notice. The ink has the soft edges of having lain in the skin for a few years. You turn his arm to see it more fully. “Oh. Nice tattoo.”

He looks at the ink as if it is entirely new to him, and then gives an easy grin. “Thanks. I’ve got a few more too. Hope they aren’t hard to draw.”

When you loosen your grip on his hand, he releases you immediately. You still feel the squeeze in your bones even as you drop your hand to your side.

“So, then, Soap,” you say, “have you ever modeled before?”

He shakes his head, tucking his hands into the front pockets of his low-slung jeans. It tugs the waistband just a bit, revealing a sliver of warm, tan skin (raw sienna, flesh ochre, naples yellow). “Should have, honestly, with how much it pays.”

“It gets very boring, very fast,” you say. “What do you plan to wear for the breaks?”

“Was I supposed to bring that m’self?”

You are unable to suppress a laugh. “Yes, unfortunately.”

“Oh,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck and going a little sheepish—as if expecting a reprimand. You suppose it’s a valid expectation to have, in his world. You aren’t terribly familiar with the military, but you do know it’s one hell of a stickler for rules.

You also can’t help but admire the appealing pull and stretch of his bicep and deltoid, the flex of his pectoral as he lowers his arm.

“Why don’t you wait here, and I’ll go see if I can find something for you?” you suggest kindly, letting him off the hook.

“Sorry,” he says, pretty blue eyes filled with genuine apology. “I’ll remember nex’ time. Thanks.”

The expression is so hangdog that you almost want to pat his head and noise at him reassuringly, like an actual dog. You press your lips together to hide a smile, and leave the studio.

When you get back from the models’ changing room, you find Soap with one hip against the counter where you’d been organizing your supplies, one knee loose and shoulders set at a relaxed angle. You want to laugh at his easy contrapposto. He’s going to be an excellent model. You can feel it.

It looks as if he’s moving around the sticks of vine charcoal with one outstretched finger; he pulls his hand guiltily away when you reenter the studio, crossing his arms over his chest as if to hide the evidence of his snooping. It makes his pectorals bunch and round out, gathers the thickness of his biceps up into chiseled, full definition.

You lift one brow at him as you walk over.

“Never could keep my hands to m’self,” he admits, still sheepish.

“It’s alright,” you allow, smiling back. “Do you draw?”

“Used to,” he says. He looks back at the charcoal. “No time, now.”

“Are you deployed often?” you ask, taking the opportunity to look at his face.

Beauty is cheap in art, but you notice it all the same—appreciate the strong brows, the hard angle of his jaw, the dark stubble of a beard you suspect he can’t keep shaved down, and the long scar that cuts through it across his chin. The light brown of his complexion is speckled with sun exposure, and there are the faintest of creases at the corners of his eyes, which you expect will deepen into genuine, gorgeous crow’s feet as he ages.

He’s not all rugged, though. There is a soft, thick curl to his lashes, which are as dark as strong coffee or expensive chocolate, and an equal decadence to the pink, plush little swell of his bottom lip—which, in the very middle, has the smallest of divots, as if he regularly spends time biting it.

They’re traits that are far too sweet to belong on an otherwise masculine face, and their effect is such that they turn an objectively average set of features into a shockingly attractive portrait—that suddenly has something fluttering, just a bit, in the roof of your stomach.

He looks at you, and catches your survey. You can see him realize you’d been watching, the knowledge of it blooming in ocean blue eyes like ink dropped onto linen.

“More often than no’,” he answers, showing teeth in a crooked, interested grin. And now he’s looking at you—attention flitting across your face, dropping down your body and jumping back up to meet your gaze. The creases deepen at the corners of his eyes.

The fluttering intensifies. The sudden role reversal has you feeling at once flustered and unmoored. You are never the subject of any perusal—always comfortably the observer.

“Well—” you try, and you’re embarrassed at the low tone of your voice. You clear your throat. “Well, let’s make use of the time we have you, then.”

His smile remains, cocksure and easy. “Let’s.”

He knows the effect he’s had.

“Anyway,” you say, blinking several times and proffering the sheet you’d retrieved, “none of the other models are your size, so I’m afraid this will have to do.”

He takes it in his hands, which are sun-dark and striking against the clean white linen. “So it’s a toga, then?” he asks.

“Whatever you like. Let’s go over the basics, and then you can undress.”

“Oh, already, aye? Y’move fast, hen,” he drawls, still grinning. “I like it.”

Heat rushes to your face, but you don’t feel embarrassed enough not to laugh. You busy yourself with tapping your charcoal sticks back in place, putting them back in an even row ascending in order of length, and saving yourself from having to look him in the eye. “Ha! We don’t do a lot of foreplay in this studio, I’m afraid.”

“No?” Soap hums, and he steps closer. He’s very warm, enough that you can feel it even with the space between you. You do have to look at him then. His eyes are half-lidded, lashes casting pretty shadows on his cheekbones as he gazes down at you. “That’s a shame. I’m right partial to it.”

Your brows lift, and you will your pulse to remain steady even as you inhale, catching a thread of—cologne? Aftershave? Just plain deodorant?—coming off of him. The scent caresses you, almost beckoning you to lean forward. You swear you can see the thrum of his heartbeat, there in the soft hollows by his Adam’s apple.

You blink. He is your model. “Well—I’ll try to set you up as best I can, anyway. Follow me, please.”

And you turn your back on him, because this is your workplace, and you are at work, and if you don’t get on with things you might do something stupid like actually flirt back.

Soap hadn’t been sure what to expect when he arrived at the art studio. He’s never been to one before, much less one housed in a university—which he has also never been to—and hell, he only ever took one art class in high school.

If pressed, he’d have imagined old brick walls covered in diagram posters, shelves of supplies in all colors, the smell of paint hanging permanently in the air. What he finds instead is modern, clean, and impersonal. Stage lights hang from fixtures in the ceiling, pointing at a platform in the back center of the room. A tight line of easels, all folded up, stand pressed into a far corner, next to a tower of stacked chairs, and waist-high cabinets line half the room against the bare, painted cinder block wall. The linoleum floor looks new.

None of this, however, has any opportunity to disappoint him. His final unmet expectation, standing across the room and organizing a tray of art supplies, is a very welcome surprise.

You’re bonnie. Like, every point on his wishlist bonnie. Christ, he must’ve done something really good lately, because he can’t imagine just lucking into this. There’s not a hard angle to you, all sweet and soft, but when you meet his gaze during introductions there’s a sharpness to you that skewers him through the chest. You are much smarter than him, he can tell immediately.

He’s always had a thing for smart women. Soft ones, too. And if that weren’t enough, you let him flirt shamelessly with you, while checking him out the whole time.

Steaming Jesus.

You direct him to get onto the platform and sit down, still clothed, in an armchair draped in another pristine white sheet. The stage lights are bright overhead, and they highlight free-floating wisps of your hair in gold.

“You want to ensure that you don’t rest your weight on only one or two points,” you explain. You have a nice voice. Steady, confident—this is your territory, your studio, and in it you are clearly the master. “The main danger is that your arms or legs might fall asleep, and you won’t realize it until you get up, in which case you’ll fall. We can’t touch you, so we can’t save you from that.”

“Y’canna touch me?” Soap repeats.

“Not without your explicit consent,” you say.

He smiles at you, the kind of smile he saves for bright nights at the pub over platoons of shot glasses. “I explicitly consent to you touching me.”

The corners of your mouth tug upward, just a bit, and you look away, clearly bashful. Something in Soap’s chest starts beating a drum. He knows already he’ll ask you to drinks after the class ends tonight.

“I doubt I’d be able to do much,” you say, “you’re a bit more substantial than the usual models.” Your eyes flick down his torso and back up.

“Guess I’ll have to follow your advice, then,” he says.

“You should,” you say, and he looks at your thigh shamelessly as you pat it—even beneath your jeans, he can see the ripple of the impact. “One of the worst-case scenarios is nerve damage.”

“So you have done this before!”

He can’t help it—Soap’s imagination runs wild. Titanic, draw-me-like-one-of-your-French-girls wild. It’s not exactly polite to imagine a teacher naked while she’s in the middle of giving him directions (and Jesus, what a concept, he might be half-mast already), but Soap has always found that people like it when he’s a little rude.

You drum your fingers. “I have.”

He finally hears the nerve damage part of your instruction. “How, uh—how bad can it get?”

The drumming stops. “For me? It just starts to twinge a bit if I sit on this side very long. So don’t rest your weight all on one hip, yeah?”

Concern assuaged that he had not ignored your genuine pain in order to objectify you, Soap grins. “Yeah.”

“Good,” you say. “Also—even if it doesn’t hurt, Soap, you can stop at any time, okay?”

That has him blinking. “Kinda defeats the purpose, doesnae?”

You shake your head. “It doesn’t matter. This is your first time modeling. You don’t know how you’ll feel, sitting here with your clothes off and everyone looking at you. If you need to stop, I want you to stop. I’ll make sure you’re paid anyway, so don’t worry about that.”

You are…so serious about this. The line of your brows is furrowed, imploring, like a little discomfort on his part is a violation of the highest order.

“Sure,” he says, a little dumbstruck and mostly lying. He’d be a rubbish soldier if he tapped out of a little thing like sitting down, but it’s nice that you care.

You purse your lips, nod, and then move onto the task at hand, stepping back and then down off the platform. When you begin to survey him—gaze flitting up and down his body, more pensive than appreciative—he has to resist the urge to flex.

Instead he watches you as you look at him. He especially likes, he decides, the slope of your nose and the smart, serious press of your mouth. You could get him all turned around, he thinks, if you gave it half a try.

Your tits are also great, but that’s by the by.

“Try resting your elbow up a little higher, and twist at the hips a bit,” you instruct, and Soap obeys. “Hm. How would you feel about crossing your ankles?”

You continue like this—nudging him in directions he doesn’t think make all that much of a difference, standing in different positions around the room to check the angles. He half-wishes he could step out of his body and join you, curious as he is about what you’re seeing, what your students will see. He’s not sure he has any clear expectations for how the class will go, but if you’re any indication, it’ll be more fun than he expects.

“Not sure if I’ll remember how to get back into this,” he says, partly to be helpful and partly to get you to talk to him again.

“I’ll help you, don’t worry,” you say. “Okay, I think that’s a good one, you can move now—I’m going to start setting up, the students should be here any minute.”

He stands, and you turn away to collect your supplies, so Soap figures this means it’s time for him to strip. He pulls off his shirt and drapes it over the chair’s arm, unbuttons his pants and shoves them down to his knees.

“Soap!”

He freezes. Then he looks at you. You’re blushing again, deep and saturated, mouth parted in surprise and hand pressed to your chest. He does not miss the quick flick of your gaze down his body; he’s probably violated some rule or another of the studio, but he can’t help but grin.

You’re adorable.

“Gotta happen eventually, right?” he says.

You cover your face with your palm. “I was going to leave the room first!”

“First time someone’s wanted to run away when I’m takin’ my clothes off, I won’t lie—”

“You just come get me when you’re done!” you say hastily as you beeline for the door. “I’ll be right outside!”

Soap chuckles a little when you’re gone, the door slamming mortified behind you, and folds his clothes up behind the armchair he’ll be sitting in. You’re so cute. He can’t wait to sit naked for you for the next three hours.

And he’s definitely asking you out for drinks.

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arieswritez · 1 year ago

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yandere mark nsfw alphabet😳😳 loved the idea

cw; DARK CONTENT! MDNI!!! rape, breeding/baby trapping, dacryphilia, asphyxiation, abusive 'relationships', edging, predator/prey dynamics, nipple play, kidnapping, food tampering, mentions of suicidal ideation, threats of violence, implied death, manipulation, victim blaming, branding, mentions of incapacitation.

about; nsfw alphabet ft. cray cray mark x gn! reader xx a/n; a couple of u asked for this so here it is :D not edited & straight off the dome so excuse any grammatical errors. will edit if necessary xx

A= Aftercare

'aftercare' with yandere mark is patronizing and condescending. a lot of shushing, wiping your tears, and asking why you're so upset. you asked for this with all your fucking cock teasing. it couldn't have been that bad, i mean, he did make you cum! why can't you just let good things happen to you? ;(

B= Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers)

mark loves your eyes <3 it's the first thing he's noticed from you. how they seemed to gleam and widen while you gave him your undivided attention. he can't count the amounts of times he had to excuse himself and jack off in the bathroom: imagining how your eyes would water with his cock stuck down your throat. or the way your eyebrows would furrow while he jack hammered into you.

C= Cum

yan mark definitely likes marking you with his cum. he likes to see it dripping off your face, along your belly, your thighs, but most importantly, he loves it when he watches it drip out of you. whether you can get pregnant or not - and good luck if you can - there's just something primal about cumming inside of you. marking you in and out.

D= Dirty secret

he's a masochist just as much as he's a sadist. his little obsession with you caused him to get a tattoo of your name <3 right at his adonis belt 🥺 so everytime he's in too deep,, your hands desperately try to hold his hips back,, and your blunt nails dig into the curved lines of your name. it never fails to make his eyes roll into the back of his head 🫶🏽🤭

E= Experience (do they know what they’re doing)

canon typical mark is (was) a blushy lil virgin but yan!mark has a tad bit more experience. he's attractive, he's funny, he knows how to play into the slightly awkward charm that got you to lower your defenses. so it's safe to say it isn't hard to find random hookups every now and then.

it's not all about his experience. he just knows what you like.

you may not know it, but he's. . done his research. and by that i mean, he's logged into your computer or your phone and looked through your browser history. he knows what kind of porn you like. and some of those things are borderline freaky. here you are, acting all innocent, like you wouldn't hurt a fly. or high and mighty like no one would ever dare snuff out your flame.

who would've known you were such a desperate slut?

but that's okay! because he's willing to do anything to satisfy you. . or humiliate you by making you cum. he feels it takes you down a peg, when he pins you down and makes you cum even though you don't want to. even though your mind is racing a mile a minute, trying to hold your climax back while he plays with your clit/cock.

unbeknownst to you, he's watched you masturbate. knows the right amount of pressure & speed that gets your toes curling. he knows you so well & he can't wait to learn more about you 💕

F= Favorite position

mark loves watching you squirm beneath him. most importantly, he loves taking you down. he might even make you think you can get away. the chase, the constant cat and mouse you'd subject him to used to be torture. your teasing, the occasional sliver of skin as you stretched, the way you'd lay your head on his lap as the two of you watched television, the way you'd grin when he blushed. . and the wrestling. god, the play wrestling.

he used to let you win. but now. . now this is real. there's real consequences. so he makes you think you can kick him off while you flail. maybe even lets you get up and run. your elbows are all scuffed during the struggle and he's given you a busted lip, but he lets you think you've won.

god knows he'll catch up eventually.

the games he'd play made you cocky. you thought you were stronger than him instead of considering that it was just him playing nice. so he loves to watch the look of defeat, of deception, anger, and disappointment towards yourself when it's revealed he could've had his way with you all along.

he loves to be on top.

but sometimes,

sometimes,

he likes it when you're on top. some things never change. and lets just say he didn't always let you win play wrestling just because he was trying to be a gentleman. but because he liked the way your weight felt on top of him as you grinned triumphantly, pinning his wrists down.

now, of course, things have changed. he can't let you have all the control. pity. but he forces you to ride him: his hand wrapped around your throat. he could really hurt you if he so much as wanted to. . something he hisses into your ear whenever your pace so much as falters. he makes you work for it. and it takes longer to make him cum when you ride him. fear makes you clumsy, makes your legs shake more, and you're sore and achy and tired, which makes it all the more fun.

so i think his fave is when he forces you to be on top :)

G= Goofy (how serious are they)

yan!mark teases you a lot. comments on how many times he's made you cum, pinches your nipples just to hear you squeal. he's only ever quiet and serious when he's in a bad mood.

H= Hair

mark's trimmed but not necessarily shaved.

you, on the other hand, have to be shaved. not because he finds it unattractive (if anything, it makes him feral. makes him feel like you're something meant to be conquered, something to be domesticated. controlled.)

hence his decision to have you shaved at all times. it's about control.

he forces you into the bath tub and watches as you shave, making sure you're all pretty for him. no, you don't get a say in the matter. you're his little doll. he'll do whatever he wants to you.

I= Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty)

mark is rough. depending on the situation, he may start off slower, softer, easing into you while his words are pure venom. he's grinding into you, making you hiccup, because this type of 'love making' should be reserved for couples. not whatever the two of you have got going on. but of course, he speeds up. roughing you up the more into it he gets.

he's rough regardless of who the object of his affection is, but he's definitely rougher if you're on the masculine side. yan!mark doesn't like to be challenged. he doesn't like talk back. he doesn't like you running around thinking you're big and bad. so he has to knock you down a peg. force you to understand he's stronger than you.

he chokes you out, squeezing your throat until your vision spots. he likes to watch your face change colors. and when your mouth opens, desperately trying to suck in air, he spits onto your tongue 💗

likes it when you - confident, and tough, walking like nothing can ever hurt you - beg him to let you go. beg him not to kill you.

because, sometimes, you fear he just might.

J= Jack off (do they masturbate and how often)

he does! but when he gets you, there's really no need for that <3

when he hadn't kidnapped you, he'd masturbate all the time. it was the only way to relieve himself. like i rambled about before, he'd steal your underwear and cum into them, use them as tissues to wipe his abdomen clean.

secretly takes pictures of you - upskirts if you wear 'em,, or just candids. cums to your most mundane selfies.

if the two of you were close before he kidnapped you, debbie would send you all types of homemade treats. sweet or savory, whatever it was; you loved debbie's cooking. what you didn't know was that mark would add a little bit of his own . . twist to them. when you'd steal bites of his food, you always wondered why his tasted differently to yours.

and the way he'd stare at you as you ate, jesus.

you thought he just liked the way you'd wolf down whatever his mom cooked. turns out he just liked watching you eat his cum.

K= Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual)

BREEDING!!! whether you can get pregnant or not, he loves the idea of claiming you for a lifetime. of changing your life and forcing you to carry his child. watching you grow round and hormonal. he knows he'd have to keep you on a tight leash; lest you do something you'll regret in order to escape your fate. but it'll be worth it. because after nine months, you'll have another life to look after. you'll be on edge all the time, protecting a fragile, little life, because you can't trust mark to do it.

after all, if you're really bad, he can always get rid of it. start all over again. and you wouldn't want that, would you~?

dacryphilia.

there's nothing like watching you cry. when you'd confide in him about your troubles, when you'd cry on his shoulder, seek solace in his company for whatever reason, and cry. . it'd be really hard to hide his erection. the first time you let yourself cry in front of him was a day he'd never forget. he couldn't stop thinking about it since. wonders if you tear up when someone fucks you. (you do. you will)

L= Location (where they like to get it on)

mark doesn't care where he takes you as long as he's got you. it can be in public or not, just as long as he takes you to the secondary location he'll keep you prisoner in. if it's in the au where nolan & him team up, there will be a compound with all the rebels. you'd be at the top floor in a comfy little penthouse. a gilded cage overlooking the remains of your burned city.

i think he'll first want to fuck you in a place where there'll be no interruptions. if it isn't in the au where him & nolan conquer earth, he knows how to play his role. doesn't want to risk being found raping you. he'll most likely fuck you in a place you hold dear to your heart. your bedroom, could be an example.

because wherever that safe space may be, you won't be able to stand being there without thinking about him.

M= Motivation (things that makes them tick/turn ons)

he likes it when you act so sure of yourself. when someone's a bit cocky and bossy. it's nice to break you.

it is a whole lot easier when someone's shyer, though. wallflowers always blend into the background.

no one misses them when they go missing.

N= No (turnoffs or absolutely won’t do)

there's almost nothing mark won't do to you, sorry ;( even if he doesn't like it. . even if you both don't like it. . he'll always find a way to humiliate you if you've been bad. so it's advised you be on your best behavior if you really don't want him to do some fucked up shit to you. & believe him: it hurts him more than it hurts you!!

all he's ever wanted was to own you.

you were meant for him.

so why fight?

you both know you're not getting out of this alive

O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are)

mark doesn't always give head unless it's to put you in your place. just to show you that he can make you cum and theres nothing you can do about it.

but he makes you choke on him all the time. he's impatient, forcing your head down and hiking his hips up to meet your face. if you've pissed him off, he'll pinch your nose and hold you down. loves to feel your nails dig into the bulk of his thigh. sometimes, you'll make him bleed. he doesn't care.

P= Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed)

mark doesn’t last very long BUT he’s got a very short refractory period and can go for countless rounds. by the time you cum once, he’s already cum like three times and he’s ready for more. by then, he’s already fucked dumb. so your next orgasms will be forced out of you, roughed up and overstimulated as his cum leaks out of you, his cum acting as lube and making the slide intoxicatingly easy.

Q= Quickie

basically non-existent. he loves giving you his undivided attention. and he never stops after one round ;(

R= Risk (do they like to try new things)

he loves trying new things with you. he's spent so much time fantasizing about you that he doesn't even know where to start the first time he gets his hands on you. he'll most likely force fuck you more than once in a day the first time he gets the chance to.

S= Stamina

(see pace <3)

T= Toys

loves using toys on you. if you’ve used them before him, he’ll force you to use them in front of him. it doesn’t take long before he takes control: grabbing them and fucking you with them. edging you. if you cum, then it’s only fair he cums, too, right? and you don’t really like that much ;( so best hold it in <3

U= Unfair (how do they tease? edge?)

mark loves to tease and edge you.

you say you hate him. you can't stand him touching you.

you bite and you snarl, kick and punch, yet when he has you pinned, edging you for hours on end. . you end up breaking. begging him to make you cum. of course, he coaches you through it. tells you he'll leave you alone once you cum, he promises. yet he drags it out for so long. hearing you ask to cum instead of asking him to stop is music to his ears.

except, mark is a liar. you shouldn't trust him.

he just ends up overstimulating you after you cum😒

V= Volume

lots of whispering and hissing, talks very quietly and carefully. you'd think he'd be loud. . but he's not. and despite the fact that he may say vile, disgusting things to you, he whispers them to you so nicely. . if he were saying anything else it'd be sweet. he's so patronizing ;( whimpers in your ear when he's close.

W= Wild card

really into pain.

since he's got his powers, it's not very often that he feels pain. sure, there are some fights with villains - while he's out playing the perfect hero in the mean time - that give him a few flashes of pain. but that's once a blue moon.

nothing compares to you.

you fight him like you're afraid he might kill you. and he might. but it's never his intention ;( he knows what kills and what doesn't (trust him) &, believe it or not, he doesn't want to lose you. but you fight him with such intensity he has to manhandle you more than he'd like.

your hits are surprisingly hard. you claw at him and punch and kick, and he's thought about breaking your legs more times than he can count - he still might if you catch him on a bad day - but then that'd leave you completely immobilized and that's really no fun. because he likes it when you make him bleed. he likes it when your hands slap against his face and when your nails try to claw his eyes out. he wears the bruises and the cuts you give him like badges of honor and he loves to bite his busted lip when he's close to cumming.

he loves it when you hurt him. and he loves it when he ends up winning, anyway.

X= X-ray (size)

5-6in & THICK. really pretty w/ plump balls. he cums SO much.

Y= Yearning (sex drive level)

he's got a HIGH sex drive.

you've teased him for so long he doesn't think he'll ever get enough of you. and there's nothing you can do to stop him. if the two of you weren't close - if the two of you weren't friends, etc. - there's nothing you can do to lay low. you'll catch his attention sooner or later and he'll weasel his way into your life before you even realize it. his intentions would appear pure at first. he'd be so caring, wondering if you're doing okay, and protective; who were you talking to? i don't think they're good for you~

and you listened. because it's mark you're talking about. but if you truly knew him, you'd realize his accusations were actually projections.

Z= Zzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after)

falls asleep fairly quickly after he's wrung himself dry. but that's only IF he's already taken you hostage. if he so happens to assault you while the two of you aren't where he'd like to keep you, he takes you there, first. coupled with his strange idea of aftercare, he is fairly affectionate. or as affectionate as you'd expect him to be, anyway. always with a hint of menace: he'd hold you tight against him, an arm around your waist and the other wrapped around your throat. making sure you don't so much as think about straying away from him 💗💗

#mark grayson #invincible #invincible x reader #mark grayson x reader #yandere mark grayson x reader #mark grayson brain rot #can't stop imagining mark being an absolute creep #“when will my husband come back from war”#but it's just some psycho #do you think yan! mark listens to deftones #korea & lovers are his songs #mascara is if he's still pretending to be normal #& baby traps u or something #so now u have to get marrieeeddd eee #when he follows in his dad's footsteps #making u a stay at home parent while he saves the world #but ur being held hostage #listen to it now i am in ur walls

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heauxvibez · 4 months ago

Text

Dipsea 2

warning: smut (18+). I had to change my panties after typing this bad boi up..

You looked at your phone with a desperate whimper, the frustration of the sudden interruption running through you. You had just begun to sink into the sweet rhythm of it, and now, you were certain the app was worth every cent. There was no way you’d be left on a cliffhanger—not when the heat was already pooling deep in your pussy, and his words were making your body ache with need. No other free option would suffice. Joe had started this, and you were determined he’d be the one to finish it.

With a quick tap, you paid for the app, heart pounding, pussy throbbing as the screen shifted. You watched as all nine parts unlocked, the bright purple and orange hues of the app glowing softly against the darkened room. The colors pulsed much like the warmth building inside you, teasing you as you imagined what was coming next. You were ready to dive back into the sultry depths of Joe's voice, ready to be carried away again, this time with no interruptions.

With another quick tap, you clicked on part two of Watch, your excitement beaming as the screen transitioned to reveal a new silhouette of him. This time, the image was a stunning depiction of his back, his broad shoulders and sculpted muscles bathed in more hues of deep orange and violet that painted the app. The soft gradient colors traced the contours of his body, highlighting every curve and dip in his toned frame just as much as the last silhouette.

His hair and tattoo were the only contrast—bold, inky black curls outlined by thin, glowing lines of orange, the strands seeming to ripple with motion as if you could reach out and feel the soft waves between your fingers. The black tribal patterns were striking—precise and pristine. The lines were sharp, curves fluid, creating a seamless flow of ink that wrapped around the silhouette with an almost hypnotic grace. The design seemed alive, as if the artist had studied every inch of his form with care. Whoever had illustrated this masterpiece deserved a raise.

The silhouette cut off just above his lower back, but not before emphasizing the curve of his spine and the dimples that rested at the base, drawing your gaze down. The image lingered there, inviting you to the details and shadows that made him feel more magnetic. It was impossible to look away.

You pressed play and closed your eyes without hesitation, you were ready to fill your ears with his voice and your mind with his image.

"Now go ahead and play with that pussy for me, but take your time. I don't want our fun to end so soon," he commanded. It was the same line he had whispered at the end of part one, a teasing reminder that he knew exactly where you both had left off, pulling you right back into that state of arousal.

But this time, things were a bit different. Your panties, once tangled around your ankles, had now disappeared somewhere within the soft, silky sheets beneath you. Your fingers hovered above your clit, ready to obey him, knowing exactly where they were headed—into the same silky folds that ached for attention, craving the touch you’d been holding back from for too long.

You could already feel the tingling between your thighs, the way his voice alone had the power to make your body respond, your mind slipping into a haze of pleasure. Just as he’d asked, you were savoring every second, drawing out the pleasure because you both knew there was no rush. It was about indulgence—taking your time, sinking deeper into the sensations, and losing yourself completely.

Your middle finger drew light, teasing circles around your clit, barely grazing the sensitive nub. Despite the faint touch, you were already soaking wet, your juices slick against your skin, and you hadn’t even fully given in yet. A shaky breath escaped your lips as you imagined his eyes on you, the thought heating your skin even from a distance. You could picture the way he’d tilt his head back slightly, his eyes dark while lifting his hand to stroke his beard in that slow, menacing way he always did when he was gathering his thoughts. His fingers would glide over the coarse hairs, tracing the strong line of his jaw, and then move down toward his throat, his palm smoothing over his skin as if grooming himself in preparation.

You could hear the sound of him shifting in his seat, the sound of his body moving making your breath hitch. It was subtle, but you pretended as if it was an involuntary thrust, his horniness impossible to hide. You imagined his dick strained against the fabric of his tight bottoms, pressing insistently, desperate for relief.

"Just like that, sweetheart," he groaned. "Fuck, I can barely keep still over here," he chuckled, the sound rough and deep, making your body tingle in response.

"I can see you drippin' all the way from here," his voice purred through your earphones, carrying a teasing tone that vibrated in your ears.

"Those lips, glistening and glossy... all for me, right, baby?" you couldn’t stop the soft whimper that escaped your lips. Your body responded before you could think, the words slipping out in a breathless whisper.

"Yes, daddy..." you murmured into the air, your toes curling with the rush that came from answering him. You could practically hear the smirk in his voice as he spoke again,

"Good girl," he affirmed. "Now, can you slip those fingers inside for me? But tease yourself just like I would..." what he wanted from you, what he asked of you was so damn irresistible, and as your middle finger slid down your slick slit, you listened, teasing your entrance, tapping it lightly, just as he’d instructed. The teasing was unbearable, your body aching for more as your fingers played along your soaked folds.

"You're such a great listener, baby. Go ahead and slip those fingers in.."

"Whew, Jesus," you sighed, finally giving in as your middle and ring fingers slipped into you, the warm, tight sensation wrapping around your digits beautifully. Your palm brushed against your swollen clit, your body pulsing around your fingers. The friction was maddening, every stroke drawing you deeper.

You could hear his breath hitch in your ears, shaky and uneven, as he narrated your pleasure. "God damn if only you could see yourself right now," he groaned, "Your pussy taking in your fingers, going deep and curling against your g spot... Shit, you don’t know what you’re doing to me."

It was wild how his words were basically tailored to cater to your own pleasure. Every syllable felt like it was crafted just for you. His praise, the soft, commanding tone he used, was almost too much. You could hear every minor shift in his voice, the way he controlled each breath, making it deeper, huskier when the moment needed it. It wasn’t just the words—it was the way he wielded them, like a lover’s touch, knowing exactly when to soften, when to tease, when to push.

"Keep the pace slow,” he uttered, “I want you to enjoy and savor this. I want to enjoy and savor this. You know I love watching you fall apart in agony, knowing that you've been waiting to nut all night. Knowing that you're holding onto that nut just for me. Knowing you ain't gon nut until I say so."

“Fuck," you cursed as you slowed your movements, still doing as he says even though it felt torturous. Your finger slid in and out of you with agonizing slowness.

The contrast between the slow, teasing strokes and the need inside you made everything feel so much sweeter. It was as if his voice was in control of your body, holding your hand, pushing you just to the brink but never letting you tumble over. The slowness frustrated you, yet it pleased you so perfectly.

"Just like that, my love. In..." His voice purred as your fingers slipped deeply inside, "And out..." he continued, his words guiding you as you pulled them out slowly, feeling the slickness of your folds against your skin. "In..." You pushed your fingers back through your wet heat, your breath trembling. "And out..." you obeyed again, this time a soft moan escaping your lips as your fingers retreated, leaving you wanting more.

"Mmm, you hear that?" His voice was now getting lower, making your whole body shiver. You listened closely, the only sounds in the room now were his heavy, steady breathing in your ear and the unmistakable sound of your juices being pushed in and out of you. The wet, slick noise echoed throughout the room which did nothing but tighten the knot deep in your belly.

Your fingers moved with purpose, matching the slow, teasing pace he had set, the wetness coating your fingers making the motion smoother. You were getting closer to the edge.

"You ain't ever been this wet baby. I just know them fingers are drowning in that nectar of yours.." he murmured, with his words being slightly interrupted by throaty moans. The sounds of fabric rubbing made you think that he might be stroking himself through the barrier of his clothes, fueling the fantasy and pure delusion of him watching you.

"Aht, remember what I said? Keep that pace slow; I know you can take it..." His voice urges you to follow his demands despite the desperate need to cum.

"I can’t..." you whimpered, your voice breaking as your back arched in a sad attempt to increase the friction against your palm. The struggle to maintain the slowness was killing you. You were doing your best to follow his instructions, but he was too damn good at this erotic audio shit. It felt impossible to hold out much longer—his voice was relentless.

His breaths seemed to grow louder, more insistent, and his moans were becoming deeper and more profound. "Wrap your left hand around your throat, mhm," he instructed, "Make sure you grip it well. Just like I would when I'm holding you in place, keepin' you from runnin.'"

Your left hand moved slowly, trembling slightly as it glided up your body, feeling every shift in your skin. The vulnerability of the touch made you acutely aware of how fragile you were. Even the gentlest of touches at this moment felt like they would do you in.

"Just like that. Fuck, you're gonna come, ain’t you?" He questioned seductively, his voice was filled with a knowing confidence as if he could read your mind.

He laughly breathlessly, a sound of cockiness that made you want to reach through the phone and give him a light slap on the wrist for being such a know it all.

"Your breaths are gettin' shorter, your pussy’s gettin' wetter, and I can see those legs trembling, trying to stay open." You were stunned by how right he was, it was a perfect reflection of the torment yet pleasurable moment he was talking you through.

"Cum for me baby, cum for daddy," he whispered compelling your fingers to delve deep inside and your palm to press the perfect amount of pressure onto your clit. Your body quivered as your orgasm radiated from the top of your head to the tip of your toes and back up again like waves. Pure waves of euphoria that is. Waves that nearly shatter you into pure bliss.

Your back arched with each breathy word he spoke to you, “Keep going, sweetheart. Don’t stop. Don’t stop moving those fucking fingers,” he growled, his words were rough and delicious. Your fingers continued their relentless rhythm, pumping deep and steady. Your thighs tightened around your wrist, pulling you closer, your juices flowing freely into your palm, glistening with every stroke. Your pussy clung to your fingers with a needy grip, pulling them in as you withdrew, a constant dance between your walls and your digits.

Tears streamed freely from your eyes as your left hand stayed firm against your throat, the sensation of the choke making you lose your mind, while also serving as a grounding anchor. You couldn't quite tell if it was your own grip or his that held you captive. Physically, you knew it was your hand, but emotionally, this man had an undeniable hold on you, wrapping around your mind with his words, and his energy.

Your body gradually relaxed, the tension melting away after the breathtaking orgasm that had left you well…breathless. You had been holding air in your lungs, caught in the throes of pleasure, until his soothing voice gently pulled you back to reality.

“Breathe, baby,” he murmured, his sultry voice and slow, deep breaths filled your ears. You matched his rhythm, each inhale and exhale guiding you back to yourself. When you finally opened your eyes, which had felt closed for hours, you found yourself staring at the ceiling, still reeling from your release. You could hardly believe how powerful it had been. “That was good,” he chuckled, and the sound made you crack a small, satisfied smile.

“Mmm, now that I’ve watched, come over here so I can listen to you moan in daddy's ear.”

Click here to play "Listen" narrated by Joe, voiced by Roman Reigns.

--------------------------

I feel absolutely DELUSIONAL after writing this. Only because I feel like something like this could actually happen LOL.

Tags: @harmshake @southerngirl41 @sortudademais @empressdede @alichesmi

@msbigredmachine @theninthwonder @blacst4r @sassginamillls @wrestlingprincess80

@headoftheetable @trashbin-nie @sheyaish @saintmagx @mzv11

@venusesworld @tshepisho @cyberdejos2

Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist! I tend to forget to tag sometimes, so just direct message me. It'll be easier for me to keep up lol!

#roman reigns #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns smut #wwefanfic #wwe #roman reigns x black reader #roman reigns imagine

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strangerstilinski · 9 months ago

Text

𝙞𝙩 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨 𝙖 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨

𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

word count: 2.5k warnings: none really, fluffy ending, steve is kind of a dick, mention of alcohol, gender neutral reader (pls let me know if i missed anything) based on that scene in tasm where peter spins gwen around to kiss her — with just a dash of enemies to lovers

It should go without saying that Steve Harrington is the bane of your goddamned existence. If the two of you aren't at each other's throats, it typically just means that you're both doing your best to pretend the other doesn't even exist.

And, sure, maybe it drives you a little bit insane that he seems to get along just fine with every person in your friend group except for you. It was like you pushed buttons that Steve wasn't even aware he had.

Nancy finds the whole thing amusing, says that Steve's clearly so in love with you that he doesn't know how to handle it. Eddie swears that Steve looks at you with hearts in his eyes, though any time you've caught his stare those ‘hearts’ tended to look a whole lot more like daggers. Argyle and Robin both insist that love and hate tread a very thin line, and eventually, a little push will have the two of you stumbling head over heels into each other's waiting arms. Johnathan tends to stay out of it, but then, he doesn't really need to say anything, because you've seen that look he gives you when he catches you looking a little too long at the moles dotted along the length of Steve's throat, or that stubborn lock of hair that tumbles over his brow bone, or the way his tongue pokes out and his eyes narrow cutely when he's concentrating-

You hate it. You hate Steve. Even now, you swear you hate him, regardless of the way you shamelessly ogle the curve of his bicep when he reaches across the back of the sofa to drape his arm loosely behind Robin's shoulders. You've accepted it. At this point, allowing yourself to admire his stupidly handsome physique was merely reparations for being forced to put up with him on a near-daily basis. Compensation for the never-ending bad attitude that he seemed to direct solely at you.

“Does anyone hear that?” Steve's voice speaks louder than your own suddenly, effectively cutting you off even though you'd been in the middle of a sentence. His eyes meet yours for just a brief second before his gaze is moving elsewhere, “It's like, this annoying buzzing sound?” He's sitting up a little straighter following his interruption, brows drawing together like he's listening intently for something.

His sudden line of questioning has thoroughly derailed your train of thought. The longwinded story you'd been regaling to the group about a customer at work is cut short, the words dissolving on your tongue as your try to work out what on earth Steve is referring to. Until his interruption, you hadn't heard anything.

“What are you even talking abou-”

“There!” He cuts you off once more, “There it is again! Did you hear that, Robs?” The fingers he nudges into his best friend's ribs makes her squirm away with a deep laugh.

You huff, “Are you seriously implying that I'm the-”

“God, you guys 're hearing that, right?” Steve interrupts with an irritatingly pleased grin on his face, “Like nails on a chalkboard-”

Though Robin's laughter isn't actually directed at you, your face burns hotly anyway. A pity-filled smile graces her lips when she meets your gaze after escaping the wrath of Steve's tickling, and his chuckles of amusement only serve to make you grind your teeth together in irritation.

“Real mature, dickhead.” You snap, snatching up the beer you'd set down on the coffee table when Eddie had actually asked you about your day a few minutes before. “I was in the middle of a story.”

“Yeah, no offense, honey, but I'm not sure any of us were that invested hearing you drone on about the ‘big tip’ some douchebag with a hand tattoo left you.” Steve grumbled with a roll of his eyes, “If your stories weren't so boring, maybe we wouldn't all be sitting here hoping for a hole in the earth to open up under us just so we don't have to keep listening to-”

“Steve. C'mon man-” Eddie tries, though his voice is drowned out by your own.

“Jesus, do you have to be such an asshole all the time?” You snap in Steve's direction.

“I'm just saying,” Steve shrugs, “Probably the only reason he left such a big tip was because pulled the wrong bill out of his wallet, alright? It sure as hell wasn't 'cause of your shining personality.”

“What, and just because you're a jackass, that means no man could ever possibly find me appealing?” You bite back.

“Yeah, well, your pretty face doesn't quite make up for your constant need for attention.”

“My need for attention?” You scoff incredilously, beer slamming back down onto the tabletop in front of you. The rest of your friends seem to fade even further into the background, the rest mist of your rage yet again blinding you to anything that isn't Steve fucking Harrington. “You're the one who can't stand when the focus is on me for ten fucking seconds.”

“So what, if I don't care that some prick hit on you at work-” Steve argues, “Sue me. If that makes me an asshole-”

“It does, as a matter of fact,” You interrupt easily, “Because I'm constantly listening to you whine about your conquest of the week, except I'm able to do so without acting like such a fucking-”

“Careful,” Steve hums, cocky little smirk reemerging on his lips, “You're sounding a little jealous, there, honey.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“'S my house,” He returns just as quickly, “How 'bout you fuck off.”

The blood in your veins is full of fire. Your face is burning with rage and your eyes prickle traitorously with frustrated tears, because that customer from your story? He'd been the highlight of your god-awful day. The rest of it had been a fucking disaster.

You'd slipped on freshly mopped floors and dropped an entire table's drink orders. Subsequently, you'd been forced to finish your shift with sticky, soda pop-soaked socks that squelched wetly in your shoes with every step. Your boss had given you shit for the whole mess, even though it was one of your coworkers who had failed to put out the wet floor sign in the first place. You'd proceeded to burn yourself on a hotplate, twice. And then, after all that, you'd had little choice but to take an ice-cold shower before heading over to Steve's house, because the hot water heater in your decrepit apartment building was apparently broken. Again.

“Y'know what?” You grumble in defeat, “Fine.”

You're already rising to your feet, wiping the palms of your hands down your jeans to dry the lingering condensation from your half-finished beer. You blink furiously to push back the tears that had been pooling at your waterline, shaking your head at the ridiculousness of your own emotional state.

“Wha-” Steve is watching you with something like concern in his eyes now, “Wh-Where're you goin'?”

“I'm leaving,” You announce, gaze steadfastly avoiding where Steve has removed his arm from around Robin's shoulders so he can sit at the edge of the couch, as if he's planning to rise to his own feet at any moment. “I, um. I'll talk to you guys later.”

There are scattered protests from everyone, but you don't bear them any mind. You're already turning on your heel and moving toward the entryway with hurried steps. The front door slams shut behind you before you've even gotten your jacket all the way on. You've still got one arm struggling to find the hole of your sleeve when you hear the door swing back open behind you.

“Hey! Wait up.”

You're not sure why, but Steve's voice makes you slow where you've begun to move down the driveway, though you don't turn around to face him. He calls out to you again as he finally catches up with you. He all but throws himself into your path and at the risk of running straight into him, your steps finally come to a stop.

“C'mon, honey. Wait, wait, wait-”

You blow out a frustrated breath, your arms crossing over your chest like that might somehow put up a physical barrier between the two of you.

“I really don't want to do this with you, Harrington. Alright?” An air of defeat laces your words, one hand coming up to rub at the headache that's begun to pulse between your brows, “Just.. Not tonight.”

You move to step around him and the heel of your boots click against the pavement once, twice. But then something hooks into the belt loop on your jeans and you're tugged back. You nearly lose your footing at the unexpected shift in momentum, knees wobbling unsteadily for just a moment before you're twirled back around to face him and then your palms are meeting a firm chest.

The adrenaline has your brain whiting out for just a moment, any and all thoughts screeching to a halt. Warmth seeps into your palms from beneath the thin cotton of Steve's tshirt. The racing of your own heart in your ears drowns out the distant sound of laughter and the opening trailers of a movie rental coming from back inside the house. Your eyes are level with Steve's chin, your wide gaze locked on his lips as they quirk up at one corner with his gentle smirk. You're still standing pigeon-toed between his own larger feet, a little off balance but held firmly in place by the wide hand splayed across your waist.

“I'm sorry.” Steve says quietly — unexpectedly earnest.

It's only been a second or two since he dragged you back into his space, and to your surprise, his head dips, just a fraction. Steve brushes his nose against your own, a gentle stroke that sends butterflies in your stomach fluttering wildly. The cool mint clinging to his breath fans out over your face, smelling of the gum he's always chewing and smacking obnoxiously, but the scent this close is intoxicating. The hand he brings up to cradle your jaw is intoxicating. The loose flap of leather on his watch that tickles at the side of your throat. The way he's leaning in-

The passion he kisses you with, from the moment your lips touch, is intoxicating. It's all-encompassing. You can't think, and you're not entirely sure you're even breathing, but Steve's lips are moving in unhurried synchronization with your own. Your knees are weak. You're gripping the material of his shirt in your fists just for something to hold onto, but Steve' arm is curled tight around the curve in your spine now to hold you steady.

His tongue brushes warmly against your lips, licking softly at the seam of your mouth like he's asking for permission. The desperate sound that crawls up your throat at just that quick brush of his tongue nestles in the depths of Steve's brain where he files it away for later. He hitches his arm even tighter at your waist, pulling your stomachs flush until your chest heaves against his own.

Your head is a little fuzzy when you separate long enough for you to take a breath, and you're gasping almost comically in an effort to fill your lungs. Steve's quiet chuckle meets your ears, his hand sliding back from your jaw to cup the nape of your neck.

“You kissed me.”

The words fall from your lips in a whisper of disbelief. Your eyes are still closed, lashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks. You’re terrified if you open them even a crack, the entire scene will suddenly fade away around you like some kind of dream. The airy cadence of your voice is partially due to your surprise, but also thanks to the far-too-easy grace with which you've been spun and manhandled and swept entirely off your feet.

“I did,” Steve agrees just as quietly, “I did do that.”

His forehead meets your own as your eyes flutter open and he simply holds you there for a moment, nose dragging across your cheek before he presses another quick kiss to your lips. His head tilts, thumb stroking soft over the side of your throat before his mouth finds yours again, and again. These kisses are different — Casual and tender, sweet and unhurried. Like he's kissing you just because he can.

“You-” Is all you manage to get out before your words are silenced by his lips slotting between your own, but you carry on with barely a pause as you click apart once again, “Y'r still doing it.”

“Mhm.” He hums easily, the sound rumbling beneath your hands on his chest.

“Why-”

Kiss.

“Are you-”

Kiss.

“Kissing me?”

Steve's breath mingles hotly with your own in the narrow breadth of space between your parted lips, “D'you want me to stop?”

“No, no, I- Hell no.”

And there's that perfect smile of his. Straight teeth make an appearance as his lips quirk up at the corner, a breathy spearmint scented laugh that sounds a little too relieved for the casual coolness that he's clearly trying to give off. His mouth opens like he's going to say something, but no words seem to come. Lips parted, throat bobbing as he swallows around the heavy silence weighing down his tongue.

He looks so pretty like this, you think. The streetlight light at the end of his driveway catches in his brown eyes, caramel sparking with flecks of gold and green that you've never noticed before, but you're sure you'll never be able to forget the sight of it now. You're still sharing breaths, faces so close that you can't avoid watching the way his full lashes blink at you dumbly. As if he isn't the one who spun you around and pulled you close and effortlessly gave you the best kiss of your entire life. As if, maybe, he didn't quite expect to make it this far, and now he's at a loss for how to proceed.

You release his shirt from your fist, the fabric crinkled and stretched with how tight you'd been gripping it, only to slide your hand up the back of his neck. The tip of his nose catches the bottom of your own, lips brushing faintly while your hand finds a new home in his hair. The soft strands tangle between your fingers when you give it a gentle tug and push up on your toes to draw yourself impossibly closer.

“If I'd known kissing you was all it took to get you to shut up, Harrington, I would've done it ages ago.” Your quip lacks its usual bite, but it breaks the silence between you, and it also seems to break Steve out of whatever spell he'd fallen under.

His tongue pokes out to wet his lips as he searches for an appropriate response, “Maybe we'll just have to keep kissing then.”

You find yourself swaying just a little on your feet at the way his eyes flick slow back and forth between your own, “Yeah.. Yeah, Maybe we will.”

When his lips descend on your own again, it's ages before he lets you back up for a decent breath of air, and even then he parts from you with obvious reluctance. You're both breathing heavy, lips a little swollen and shining wetly. Steve's expression has a warmth that you realize you've never actually seen directed at you before. Steve smiles at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and suddenly all you can think about is what Eddie has said a hundred times over.

It's like there are hearts in his eyes.

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve x you #steve x reader #*

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silent-stories · 4 months ago

Text

Brother's best friend! Noah

Pairing: Noah sebastian x reader

Summary: Spending some more time with Noah before heading home, you find something in his wallet.

Tw: super fluff, they are literally cuties

The streetlights outside the car flicker dimly, casting a soft, golden glow over the dashboard, and the faint hum of late-night traffic in the distance creates a quiet, serene atmosphere.

When you announced that you were going to visit a friend that afternoon and would return late at night, Noah immediately offered to give you a ride. Anything for your best friend's little sister, right?

You had to suppress a laugh when he did that, you both knew that this would turn into making out in the parking lot of a gas station at two in the morning.

The world outside feels distant, and within the car, it’s just you and Noah, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s presence. Noah’s hand rests on your thigh, his touch light but steady, and his other hand cups your cheek as he pulls you in, against his bare chest, for another kiss.

The world might be sleeping, but here, in the safety of his car, you feel more alive than ever. Each kiss is slow, deliberate, like he's savoring every second you can steal together. His lips are warm against yours, soft yet firm, moving with a gentle certainty that sends warmth flooding through your veins.

You pull away slightly, resting your forehead against his as your breath mingles in the tiny space between you. Noah chuckles softly, his thumb tracing lazy circles over your cheek, and you can’t help but smile in return. God you love the sound of his laugh.

There’s something about these quiet moments that makes them feel more precious. You know you shouldn’t be doing this, sneaking out late at night, stealing kisses in darkened rooms or cars, but it’s hard to stop when being with Noah feels so… right.

His eyes flicker with something tender, his gaze holding yours in the dim light of the car. The soft glow from the streetlamp outside catches the outlines of his features, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his lips that are swollen from kissing you. His hair is slightly mussed, and his brown eyes are soft, almost hazy with affection.

You lean in to press a kiss to the side of his mouth, then another on his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your lips. “It's getting late,” you murmur quietly, "You think it’s time to go back home? I don't want the guys to start suspecting something."

"We’ll tell them you were still chatting with your friend. I don't want this to end yet. Please. I need you for a little longer."

You smile at his words, your heart swelling in your chest. It’s moments like these that make everything worth it—the sneaking around, the secret glances, the hidden touches when no one is looking.

All of it is worth it, just for the way he looks at you now, like you’re the only thing that matters.You trace a finger along the lines of one of his tattoos of his chest, watching as goosebumps rise on his skin.

"Okay. Five more minutes, mh?"

He hums, his hand slipping up to tangle in your hair as he pulls you in for another kiss. This one is slower, deeper, as though he’s trying to commit every detail of you to memory. When you pull away, your lips brush his one more time, and you feel his breath on your skin, warm and comforting.

You lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder, the steady rise and fall of his breathing is calming, grounding you in the moment. Minutes pass in comfortable silence, the only sounds being the quiet hum of the car’s engine and the occasional faint honk from distant traffic. You close your eyes, allowing yourself to simply exist in this moment with him, feeling his warmth seeping into you.

Then, with a soft thud, something falls onto the floor of the car, pulling you from your peaceful state. You glance down and notice Noah’s wallet lying on the ground between your feet. You bend down to pick it up, handing it back to him, but as you do, a small photograph peeks out from one of the folds. Your curiosity piqued, you gently pull it out, and what you see makes your heart stop for a moment.

It’s a picture of you and Noah, one that you barely remember taking. The two of you are nestled close, his arm around you while you grin up at him with so much joy in your eyes. His lips are pressed to your temple, and though the picture is slightly blurry, the emotion in it is crystal clear. There’s something so intimate, so raw about the photo—it’s like a little snapshot of your love, captured in one fleeting moment.

“Noah?” you ask softly, turning the picture around to show him. His eyes widen slightly when he sees it, and a faint blush creeps up his cheeks.

“I, uh… I wanted to make it my wallpaper at first,” he admits quietly, letting out a sheepish chuckle. “But, you know… with your brother and the guys, I couldn’t. I didn’t want to risk anyone seeing it. So… I printed it out and kept it in my wallet instead. That way, I can have it with me, even if no one else knows.”

Your heart swells at his confession, warmth flooding your chest. He’d kept this picture close to him, hidden away but still with him at all times, like a little secret he could carry wherever he went. You feel your throat tighten with emotion, your eyes stinging slightly, but you don’t cry. Instead, you smile, wide and soft, and before you know it, you’re pressing kisses all over his face—his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, anywhere your lips can reach.

“Noah, you’re… you’re the cutest,” you whisper between kisses, and he laughs softly under your touch, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer.

“Hey, now,” he says, grinning up at you. “You’re gonna make me blush.” You giggle, pressing one last kiss to his lips before pulling back to look at him.

“I’m serious. You’re- you- god. I love you so much.” His gaze softens, and he reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle.

“I love you more,” he murmurs, his voice low and sincere.

You rest your head against his chest once more, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

And no matter how complicated things get, no matter how long you have to keep this secret, it’s all worth it. Because you have Noah, and he has you.

"Five more minutes?" He asks.

"Five more minutes."

#noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens #noah sebastian #noah sebastian fluff

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kaiser1ns · 5 months ago

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#. DON'T BE AFRAID, LOVE IS THE WAY

featuring 𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗼 𝘆𝗮𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗼 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

fluff. you want him to feel and be loved, so you kiss his pain away.

You could see it in his eyes, the exhaustion from giving so much of himself to others, or to one specific person, only to be met with harsh words or worse. Endo Yamato had always been the one to step up, to take the burdens that weren't his, to make sure everything else was taken care of—even if it meant he was left with nothing but bruises on his body and heart. It made your heart ache, the way he seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, always putting himself last.

That cheeky grin he flashes when he does something reckless softened when he looked at you. He was playful, sometimes a little wild, but you knew the truth, you knew him—he was pure, a gentle soul who deserved all the love he gave and so much more. And you smiled ever so sweetly at him, going to cup and caress his cheeks before kissing him, showing him it's okay to be himself.

You held him close tonight, feeling the tension in his muscles as you wrapped your arms around him. He needed this, he needed you, he needed to know that someone saw him, truly saw him, and loved him for everything he was, is, and is going to be. You pressed your lips to his forehead, a soft kiss, then another on his cheek. "I love you," you whispered against his skin, but he heard it. You felt him relax, just a little, as you kissed his other cheek. "I love you so much," you repeated, the words seemed to sink into him, like the ink on his body, soothing the hurt, the frustration, the endless cycle of giving and getting nothing in return.

You kissed him repeatedly, on his nose, eyelids, and chin each time whispering the same words, pouring all your love into every touch. "I love you, so please love yourself," you murmured as you kissed the corner of his mouth and felt him smile. You adored every inch of him, especially the tattoo on his neck, that simple infinity symbol. It was a reminder of the boundless you felt for him, a love that would never end.

Finally, you pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, your hands cradling his face. "I love you, Yamato," you didn't just say it, you expressed it, you proved it to him, and you meant it. "Forever and always."

You’re his one and only, he is most comfortable when he is trapped in your arms. Don't allow him to be anything but yours. Your warm smile lit up your face, and you could see it reflected in his eyes. He was happy just being there with you, safe in your love.

You traced the lines of his tattoos with your fingers, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath them. His arms, so strong yet vulnerable in your embrace, each touch was a silent declaration of your devotion, a reminder that you were there, holding him together when he felt like falling apart.

As you moved closer, your lips pressed softly against the inked skin, kissing along the curves and edges. His breath hitched, and you knew he was holding back something. When you returned to his face, you saw it—the tears welling up in his eyes, the ones he tried so hard to hide. But they fell anyway, tracing paths down his cheeks.

You didn't hesitate. You kissed each tear away, your lips gentle and tender as if by doing so, you could kiss away the pain that caused them. His tears tasted salty, but to you, they were a bittersweet reminder of his humanity.

For once, he was letting himself be taken care of, letting himself be loved without any expectations. And you were determined to give him everything he needed, everything he deserved, with your arms around him, and his skin warm against your lips, you knew that no matter what the world threw at him, you would always be there, loving him, cherishing him, for who he was.

taglist :: @nyxypoo @kazuhaiku @meidiary @maruflix @stunie

want him so bad that im clawing at my walls, ripping my hair out, throwing up, banging my head against the wall, foaming out the mouth, scratching my eyeballs out, throwing up a second time, rolling on the floor, screaming out loud, spinning in circles, biting my skin, shaking in pain, banging my head on the floor, crying my eyes out, he calls me princess and I will show him how it feels to be treated like royalty, endo yamato my sweet boy let me love you the way you deserve to be loved.

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xylianasblog · 11 months ago

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By my side

Pairings: Agedup Aonung x FemMetkayina Reader.

Summary: your mate enjoys every bit of you no matter the time.

Warnings: MDNI, somnophilia, p in v, established relationship, I think I got everything.

��꒷❀꒷꒦ ❀✿❀꒦꒷❀꒷꒦MDNI ꒦꒷❀꒷꒦❀✿❀ ꒦꒷❀꒷꒦

To Aonung you were absolutely breathtaking. The way your chest rose and fell with each breath you took while you were sleeping. You seemed so peaceful, so at ease.

He often found himself watching you sleep; he enjoyed the view of you in all your naked glory. A sight he’d never get tired of seeing, as you lay on your stomach, ass bare to him he couldn’t help but to admire it.

The curve of your ass was something he always got mesmerized by, so supple yet firm. The perfect combination of everything he liked in one, reaching to let his fingers ghost over your tattoo. Each finger to each line as he traced the delicate designs.

He exhaled the breath he didn’t know he was holding, being mated to you the best decision made. He loves you for eternity in every single way. The soft touch of his fingers bringing your body to life, even in your sleep like state you were so reactive. His hands firmly grabbed ahold on your thigh and gently pushed it further to the side.

The view of your slick cunt has his cock growing with need, his body craved you. Begged for you, he desperately needed to fill you.

For a moment he just sat and watched you, letting his eyes rack over your body slowly before he let his finger dip down into your heat. Slowly he rubbed along your slit before dipping his fingers into your wetness, thrusting in and out of you slowly.

He enjoyed the fact that even in your sleep your body knew who it belonged to. He hummed as he moved close to your body, his fingers leaving your heat to ease at your swollen bundle of nerves.

He doesn’t stop moving his finger slowly in circular motions as he presses the tip of his length against your slick entrance, his hands found themselves grasping tightly at your hips.

He was in love in every way of you, especially the way your sopping wet pussy cling to his length especially in your sleepy state. He wanted to hold back he really did, but he couldn’t focus on your grip.

Leaning down he pressed soft little kisses against your smooth skin, his cheek pressing against your back gently. He rocked his hips slowly at first, focusing on the way you clung greedily to him. His soft breathless moans and quiet groans filled your home, his deep growls rumbling from his chest each time you squeezed his throbbing cock.

He hoped you’d wake up, wake up to the feeling of him fucking deep into you. Yet nothing, you laid there taking every inch of him like the good girl you’d be if you were awake, and he loved it. He watched the way your breathing changed; soft moans being forced from your slightly parted lips. His eyes narrowed in on how your hands grabbed at the blankets before your eyes slowly peeled open, he gave you a smug grin once you finally focused.

“Shh baby, just relax...” He murmured as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to the side of your cheek.

Taglist: @pandoraslxna @neteyamsoare @criticallybella @sunfyresrider @neteyamsyawntu @tiredmamaissy @headsincloud9 @etherialblackrose @blue-slxt @justcaptiannoodles @neteyamyawne @erenjaegerwifee @oakbuggy @hotdsworld @plooto @itchaboi-itchyboy @eywaite

#avatar twow #avatar #avatar smut #atwow smut #romancingpandora2024 #aonung x you #aonung x reader #aonung smut

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boundbyeclipse · 2 months ago

Note

hiii can you write smut number 5 with current James????

black velvet

genre : smut

word count : 1227

tags : current!james, female!reader, age difference (not specified how much), reader is a tattoo artist, a little rough james, semi-public sex (i think?), that’s about it

from the prompt list : 5. “don’t cover your mouth. i wanna hear you”

a/n : sooo i saw a photo of James getting a tattoo done and i thought hey, that’s a perfect idea for one of my requests! it really stuck to me and i had to write it. i really hope you enjoy this one x

‘Poison’ by Alice Cooper played in the background after you returned from your dinner break at work. You hummed along to the lyrics while lightly bopping your head to the beat. You absolutely loved rock and metal, so the playlist used at work always consisted of bands who did exactly those genres. It always gave you motivation and boosts for some energy, no matter if you were sad, angry or irritated.

While preparing for your next client, the sound of the entrance door opening and closing reached your ears. Technically, it was just a bit too early to show up, but hey, this one’s a regular and you didn’t mind at all.

“Hey there” you greeted him while putting some black gloves on your hands.

“Hey. Mind me showing up before I should?”

You gave him a warm smile, shaking your head left to right.

“Nope. You can come take a seat actually, I’ll go print out the tattoo and get more ink”

“Alright” James smiled back, hanging his jacket on the rack and making his way to the big, comfortable leather chair. He watched you walking around and you didn’t quite pay any attention to him, at least at first. Or, you just didn’t want to.

No matter how many times you’ve done tattoos on this man in the past few years, there has always been some sort of a tension between you both. It wasn’t anything like what you’ve had before with other men. They might have complimented you, made you smile, even blush, but none of them put you in such a vulnerable position with their presence alone. And there have been many times where his eyes would pierce right through you in the middle of getting his skin drawn on, creating the impression of him wanting to do some things to you. The lust was purely emitting from him the whole time. And you cannot forget about those moments when his fingertips would brush against your skin, making you shiver and think of scenarios in your head that were not so innocent. Sure, he was much older than you, but that didn’t stop either of you from craving each other every time.

Not too long after, you were already seated next to James, with his hand extended out as you were drawing lines on his skin.

My, oh my, did those large hands of his drove you insane.

“You got any more people coming after me?” he suddenly asked, his blue eyes hinting at something.

“Nope, you are the last one today. Puts my mind at ease knowing my last client is a regular. No need to overthink”

One side of his mouth curved up into a small smirk.

“Are you sure your mind is at ease? Because I can feel you’re all tensed up”

You swallowed and bit your lower lip hard after he said that. Trying to hide your growing frustration, you giggled.

“Maybe I am, I’ve been here since seven in the morning, you know”

He cocked an eyebrow up, not quite believing what you were saying. James could clearly see how you bit your lip, adjusted in your seat and giggled due to getting thrown back by his comment.

“It’s kind of easy to tell that it’s not because of the work. You don’t need to hide it”

Your breath hitched in your throat, and your body froze for a moment before you looked up at him and asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I know you secretly think about all the possible ways I could use my hands on you,” you could not believe what he just said, but it was totally true, “it’s written all over your face. Even your body language gives it away with how you shake, squirm in your seat, how you breathe heavier when I’m around. I know you think of me”

“James, don’t-“

“Just finish the tattoo first, then you can explain yourself”

Not even ten minutes later, you had your body pinned against the door of your break room, with no way to escape the tall man who hovered over you. His hands roamed your body while he kissed your neck, sucking on the sensitive spots to make you even weaker. The way he held you by your hip against the door made you so vulnerable and so turned on, that you could not help but moan into the heated kiss.

With one swift move, James opened the door behind you and the both of you walked backwards, still all over each other until the back of your calves hit the lounge couch that was in the room. James helped you with taking your shirt off, leaving you in a black lace bra. You sat down and watched James from below, eyes full of desperation and need, looking right into his own. He removed his shirt and tossed it away, unbuckling his jeans and unzipping them, then hovering above you as he laid you down slowly, but with rough kisses and a tight grip on your waist.

Your hand reached into his jeans and you cupped him through the fabric of his underwear, giving it a couple squeezes as James groaned in response. He was big, thick and hard, and you could feel yourself getting so wet that it started to hurt. You really needed him.

With no clothes left on your bodies, he was now inside you, moving his hips as he watched your face, loving the way your eyes rolled back with each thrust. The way your back arched, your naked bodies touching against each other, it put you in such a trance. Every second of it - you just loved.

With your moans becoming louder, you felt a little embarrassed, and your hand found its way to your mouth to silence yourself. But James wasn’t going to let you hide.

“Don’t cover your mouth. I wanna hear you”

Carefully, he took your hand and now had both of your hands pinned above your head. Your moans filled the room as you wrapped your legs around his waist, wanting to feel every single inch of his length in you. Almost to the point where you could barely take it.

“I can’t- I can’t take it”

“Yes, you can. Just hang on for a little bit more for me, okay?”

You gave him a nod in response, eyes watery and lips parted as you breathed heavily, your high hitting you right then and there. It happened so quickly, that you could not even tell James that you were close.

Another moan slipped out of his mouth as you coated him in your juices, your walls pulsing whilst he was still inside you, able to feel everything.

“Almost there” he told you as he gave you his final thrusts before pulling out and cumming on your stomach. Both of you were panting, with small beads of sweat on your foreheads and hair all messed up. But as soon as you got your breathing back to normal, it was time to clean up and go home. Though, James just wasn’t quite keen on leaving you so soon.

“I’ll give you a ride back home, so don’t worry about taking a bus in this weather” he gave you a warm smile as he put his jacket on and waited for you at the entrance door.

#metallica smut #metallica fic #metallica fics #james hetfield smut #james hetfield x reader #james hetfield fic #james hetfield fics

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salem-witch-slut · 5 months ago

Text

My Kryptonite

Kara Danvers x Masc! FemReader

SYNOPSIS: Kara wants to take things to the next level with you, but she is terrified to hurt you. Not to mention, you keep getting shot at!

WORD COUNT: 8.6K

WARNINGS: Canon typical violence, stitches, blood/gunshot wounds, Kara being horny for you, fingering, eating pussy, misuse of superpowers, reader is described as muscular with lots of tattoos

Author's Note: A continuation for "This Is What I Know of Life". I have several in the works for this, I love these little fics (little my ass, each one is over 7K)

Dividers made by @cafekitsune

It had been three months since you met Kara in the bar where you used to work. Three months since you started dating Kara(Supergirl) and quit your job to join the DEO. In the club, you could only protect people inside of the area. But in here? You had more power than you ever thought possible.

You got to carry a gun at all times, and there was a gym at the agency where you got to work out to your heart’s content. Whenever Kara didn’t know where you were, she usually found you there doing whatever it was you decided to do that day. Sometimes you were practicing your hits, and other times it was just simple weightlifting.

It’s how Kara found you today. Normally you wear some loose t-shirt and sweatpants to work out at the DEO in your free time, but not today. There was a small problem with the air conditioning and the temperature was stuck at about 78 degrees Fahrenheit. And that meant you were in the least amount of clothing possible while still being considered modest.

“Hey, Alex was looking for…” Kara’s black heels paused on the steeled floors of the gym where she saw you hanging from a bar attached to a 360 machine. Her heart stopped… or did it speed up? Whatever it did, it made her face turn red!

Kara knew you were strong; you were ex-military for Rao’s sake, and she had seen you in your bra and boxers that one time when you first asked her to be your girlfriend. But there was something… something almost surreal about seeing you wearing a Nike sports bra of all things, and compression shorts that clung to you in an almost sinful way. Your skin was glistening in the lights overhead, and your dog tags hung loosely around your chest as you dropped to the floor and turned yourself around to face her. It took a lot of Kara’s willpower to not reach out and trace that V line in your abdomen that vanished under the waistband of your shorts.

“Hey,” You said, out of breath as you reached for the towel on the bench. Kara tried not to stare as she admired the way your muscles bulged when you lifted the towel up and wiped the back of your neck near your hairline. “Kara?”

“Huh?” The Kryptonian looked up from where she was staring at your defined abs and felt her entire face turn red with embarrassment. “Sorry, uh… yeah, Alex is looking for you and… I mean— obviously I said you would be here, but she still insisted that I come to tell you and I just—”

“Babe,” You stepped forward and pressed a hand against her shoulder. You felt so… so warm right now that Kara tried to not lean into your hand with all of her might, but you made it impossible. Very quickly, you bent down and captured her lips in a kiss that lasted for a few brief seconds, making Kara hungry for more. “Let me go get cleaned up and I’ll go find Alex, okay?”

“Y-Yeah,” Kara stuttered, her thoughts traveling to very… not okay places. You were about to go shower. What did you look like under the spray of the water overhead? With soap sticking to your skin and rolling across every single soft curve and sharp edge of your body? Did you tilt your head back and lean into the water or did you simply stand right under the showerhead and let gravity do its job? And the more inappropriate questions that Kara would never ask.

Kara watched you go, hand closed around your duffel bag as you headed for the bathrooms, and she immediately began walking away. Her heart was racing, and she felt like one wrong step and she could fly away in an instant.

Of course, there was only one thing on your mind. If you had asked Kara to join you… would she have said yes?

The mission that you had been sent on was more eventful than you expected. You had been in an undercover situation as you tried to look not suspicious and walk around the crowded area, looking for the threat that the DEO was mentioning all afternoon. The only problem? Kara was too busy looking at your ass instead of focusing on the task at hand.

Kara had gotten so distracted with you, and how you looked with the rain coming down from the dimly lit sky that the sound of a gunshot brought her out of her senses. It wasn’t until she saw you on the ground that she finally sprang into action and attacked the perpetrator a lot harder than she had to. It was just a human, and his arm was now broken because of how hard she had hit him… but then she saw you laying on the ground with a hand on your side and she wished that she had hit him harder.

She brought you back to the DEO in her arms and you were laughing the whole way as she kept telling you to keep your hand on your side and apply the pressure.

“Babe, it just grazed me,” You rolled your eyes as she continued to carry your body towards the medbay. “I can walk there, you know—”

“Absolutely not,” Kara snapped, nearly lasering the panel on the door to get it open. Alex was the first one to help you down onto the table and she slowly began opening up your shirt. “Is she okay?”

“She’s gonna be fine, Kara,” Alex reassured her, looking at your wound and gently touching the bruising flesh around the bullet wound. It was just a graze, and you would need stitches, but it was an easy fix and you wouldn’t even need blood this time! “How’s this feel? Does it hurt?”

You laughed at feeling Alex’s fingers against your skin and looked up at her with amused eyes. “I got shot, Danvers… yeah, it hurts.”

The two of you laughed as Alex went to put a pair of gloves on and properly clean your wound. And for a moment, you saw Kara and how she was looking at you. Your eyes fell for a second and you attempted to reach out for her hand. “Baby, I’m sorry if I wasn’t being as serious as you wanted me to—”

“It’s fine,” Kara said coldly. She backed her hand away from your touch and you frowned. She’s never refused physical contact from you like that… What was wrong? Did you do something wrong, well other than getting shot? She seemed more upset than you wanted her to be over this. “Just be careful next time.”

And just like that, Kara was leaving the medbay, her red cape swishing as she walked away. An even deeper frown textured your face as Alex returned with a suture kit and began to get to work on your stitches. You flinched a little every time she made a new stitch, but you were sitting still for the most part.

“Alex,” You asked, looking up to try and meet your superior’s gaze. “Is Kara okay?”

“Why do you ask?” Alex finished up your stitches and placed a patch over your side to keep the wound clean.

You slowly sat up, stripping off the remains of your bloodstained shirt and pulling on a gray t-shirt. How do you phrase to your girlfriend’s sister that you were worried about how she was acting? She’s been funny all day since she found you in the gym this morning.

“She’s been a little off today,” You rub the back of your neck, already looking forward to heading home so you could finally lay down. “I don’t know, I figured if anybody would know, it’d be you, right?”

Alex removes the gloves stained in your blood and tosses them in the sanitary bin, aggressively washing her hands before she looked over her shoulder at you. “Why didn’t you wear the Kevlar?”

“Uh,” You thought it was obvious. “A bulletproof vest isn’t super under cover, you know—”

“Kara’s worried about you,” Alex states, running a damp hand through her dark auburn hair to move it out of her face and she approaches your bedside. You frown as the agent sits next to you and carefully grabs your hand in hers. “I’m worried about you. I get that you’re ready to prove yourself to J’onn, but you have to remember that you’re not an alien, and you’re not bulletproof.”

“I’m not trying to—” But then it hit you… Wasn’t that exactly what you were doing? Signing up for missions left and right, going out at every possible chance to show the DEO that you aren’t just some stray off the street and you belong here with everybody else? Fighting side by side with a literal alien that actually is bulletproof?

It was making more sense now; you actually were trying too hard. And in doing so, you were going to get yourself killed somehow, and Kara would be… who knows how the Kryptonian would act if you died on the job somehow.

“Okay, maybe you’re right,” You stood up from the bed, letting out a sigh and rubbing up and down the back of your neck, almost like you were trying to soothe your headache away somehow. “I’ll try to calm down… Maybe I’ll do some in-house stuff instead of jumping at the field work?”

“I think Kara would really appreciate that,” Alex smiled as you headed out of the medbay to go get your stuff from your locker. You ejected the magazine from your pistol and checked that everything was okay before putting the safety on and tucking it into the holster that you strapped to your side.

As you were pulling on your coat jacket and you headed for the exit, you caught a glimpse of a red cape near the analyst lab and decided that talking with your girlfriend was way more important than heading home and wasting your night away.

Your boots hit the ground hard as you turned a corner, just trying to catch up to Kara who moved at inhuman speed (pun intended). “Hey Kara! Babe, wait up!”

The blonde stopped in her tracks, whipping around at high speed and you immediately stumbled on your feet to try and not fall into her. And yet, gravity had other options. Your left toes smacked against the back of your right heel, and you stumbled forward, hands slamming against the lab door as Kara stumbled backward and into the glass pane, taken by surprise at your movements.

You huffed, cheeks turning a soft pink as you looked down at Kara and watched her face tint a soft red just like yours. Her chest was rising and falling hard, almost painfully quick as you could feel the heat of her body through her supersuit. That cute red and blue outfit you loved so much with the House of El crest on her chest, the short skirt and the sheer black tights to somewhat cover up her pale legs.

Oh, why was she so beautiful? Her eyes were so blue, and you adored that strawberry flavored pink lip-gloss she wore all of the time that you loved to lick off of her lips whenever you got the chance… She’s so gorgeous and so perfect and—You were just staring at her! Oh, maybe she was uncomfortable now!

“Shit, sorry,” You stepped back, only to feel her hands had curled into the sides of your jacket and you stumbled forward, arm going over her head to stop yourself from hitting her body. Kara was quiet, and the only sound she was making was the sound of her breathing. “Kara...?”

You wish you knew what was going on in her head. What was she thinking? What was happening behind her eyes that you couldn’t seem to comprehend?

It wasn’t until you heard the sound of someone clearing their throat did you finally take a step away from her, face turning even redder than before as a lab analyst stepped around the two of you and into the room.

“I should probably head home,” Kara cleared her throat, chewing on her bottom lip with a nervous smile on her face. “I’ll uh… see you tomorrow?”

Before you could even kiss her goodbye, she was gone out of your sight. A frown was on your face instantly at the loss of contact and the miniscule words exchanged with her. Why was she pulling away like this? Have you done something wrong? Well, you did get shot but was that why she was being so cold with you?

So many questions raced around in your mind as you packed up your stuff and headed home for the night.

You could hear your cat meowing like crazy before you even opened the door. As soon as it was open, the orange tabby jumped onto the table near the entrance and started pawing at your arm, making you smile as you put your stuff down and lifted him up into your arms. “There’s my baby, did you break anything today?”

Tigger pawed at your face and began wiggling in your arms, a signal that he did not want to be held right now. You complied and put him down on the floor before heading to the kitchen to prepare his food for the night. You were basically moving on auto pilot as you mixed up the wet food with the dry, put it on the floor by his food area, and headed to the bathroom to get ready to relax for the rest of the night.

Wash face, comb hair, change clothes, put on slides, it was all so mundane and routine for you. Even grabbing the glass out of the cabinet and grabbing the bottle of alcohol in the liquor cabinet. You poured a heavy glass of whiskey, lifting the glass up and looking down at the dark amber liquid. You needed this, badly.

“Kara, why can’t I figure you out?” You muttered, seconds away from lifting the glass to your lips when it completely shattered in your hands. A look of complete shock went across your face as you looked down, the liquid coating your countertop and the glass in pieces all over the marble surface.

Tigger hissed and looked over at the window that was now fractured with a bullet hole straight through the glass. Almost immediately, your heart rate sky-rocketed as you dropped down and hid behind the couch, mere seconds before your entire apartment was riddled with gunfire.

Unfortunately, you were more focused on not getting shot and saw your cat tearing off towards your bedroom to avoid the bullet storm coming in the direction of your apartment. What the hell was happening?! Why were you being shot at?!

The momentary reprieve of fear was beginning to vanish and now you were just pissed off as your hands slid under the countertop underneath you and you grabbed the mounted pistol on the bottom of the surface, pressing your back against the couch and waiting for a second. They were using AR-15s and you waited until they were reloading to fire back. You had about 2 seconds before they reloaded the guns, and you counted in your head before you jumped up and began firing back at the assailants on the other roof of the building across from you.

So busy with taking out your attackers with assault rifles… you had forgotten about the sniper that had initially shot through the window. In seconds you were going from pissed off, to full on pain as the sniper fired a round and hit you directly in your left bicep, knocking you against the counter and back onto the ground.

Well, you were pinned down with no safe way out now… what the fuck can you do?

“Goddammit!” You had to get out of your apartment, but how? How would you get out without getting taken out by the sniper? And the couch will only hold up for so long before it begins to break, and the bullets actually start hitting you. And you had to get your fucking cat before he was shot to death too! Poor Tigger, he must be terrified…

You thought of easy exits, but none of them would be applicable without running to the bedroom first and finding your cat. And you weren’t just gonna leave him here to be riddled with gunfire… So busy thinking of a way out that you almost didn’t notice the gunfire had stopped… Completely stopped.

Your heart was racing as you looked over the side of the couch for a second, and you caught a glimpse of a red cape. No fucking way… Of course, of course she came to save your sorry ass! Kara was a wonder and you owed your fucking life to her, so many times over.

Very slowly, you dropped down to the floor and pressed your hand into your bleeding arm, the red quickly oozing from the bullet wound as you huffed and steadied your breathing. This was one of the worst nights ever…

The sound of heels hitting the hardwood floor on the other side of the couch made you relax as Kara jumped over the remains of your sofa and got down on her knees in front of you.

You smiled weakly. “Hey, Supergirl…”

“Your arm—” Kara immediately began fussing, grabbing at your shoulder and looking down at the wound and feeling her blood boil with rage. The one time she isn’t around, and you almost get killed! Why did danger always find you when she wasn’t looking? Why were you always getting hurt? Why couldn’t she fucking protect you!?

“Baby, I’m okay,” You reassured her, resisting the urge to touch her and smear blood on her super suit. Kara shook her head and before you could react, she was picking you up and lifting you back into her arms like she had done earlier that night. “Wait, wait, Tigger’s in my bedroom! He’s scared and—”

“I’ll come back for him, we need to get you somewhere safe now,” Kara reassured you as she took you through the shattered window and off into the sky. You kept constant pressure on the bullet wound, closing your eyes and trying not to look down. You’ve never been too good with flying, especially when not in an actual plane…

You knew Kara wouldn’t drop you or anything, but it was still terrifying. But before you knew it, Kara was setting you down on the ground inside of an apartment before she kissed your cheek and bolted back off into the sky, most likely to retrieve your pet.

It didn’t take a scientist to realize that this was Kara’s apartment. It was very aesthetically pleasing, and everything had a designated place to be in. Not to mention the framed photos of her and Alex on the coffee table.

In almost a blink of an eye, Kara was coming back with the orange tabby in her arms. She carefully put the cat on her floor and Tigger immediately began freaking out and tried to crawl under her couch. When he saw that he was too fat for it, he ran to her bedroom and hid under her bed.

“How did you know I was in trouble?” You questioned, pulling off your sleep shirt and grimacing at the bullet hole in your arm. Kara frowned before she grabbed the extensive first aid kit under her kitchen cabinet… why she had it, you’ll never know. Kara doesn’t get hurt.

Kara pulled out a pair of long tweezers and put her hand against your shoulder as she looked extremely hard at your arm. She was using her x-ray vision to see the bullet lodged inside your arm… Considering it was the only thing that was lead in your body, it wasn’t hard to see.

“I could hear your heartbeat,” She said softly, looking up at you as you grabbed the tourniquet from the kit and wrapped it around your arm. You pulled it tight, holding it with a steady hand as Kara reached in with the tweezers and used her expert alien precision to extract the bullet from your muscle and drop the lead onto the table. You felt tears track your face as she immediately began to apply pressure to your wound, and you let out a heartbreaking cry of pain.

“I’m sorry,” She said softly, looking up at your eyes and seeing your other hand shaking as you held the tourniquet strap. Your blood stained her hands and her super suit as she kept pressure on the wound, still whispering apologies. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”

“S’okay baby,” You reassured her, smiling weakly as tears covered your face. When the blood finally stopped, Kara quickly wrapped up your arm and pressed the gentlest kiss against the white bandages, looking up at you and watching as you released the tourniquet and almost fainted as the pain began to overtake you. “Fuck… Christ, I got blood all over your apartment, I’m sorry—”

“No, no, don’t apologize please,” Kara begged, grabbing your face with both hands and smearing the warm red blood on your skin. “You’re safe. You’re here, and you're alive and that’s all that matters… I’m just sorry I didn’t get to you sooner.”

“You have done nothing but save my ass since we met,” You chuckled, leaning down and pressing the softest kiss against her lips. Kara let out a whimper before she wrapped her arms around your neck and basked in the sweetness of your kiss. You muttered against her lips. “My guardian angel…”

Kara was always looking for new ways to display her strength as she lifted you up off the table and carried you in the direction of her bathroom. Very gently, she set you down on the side of the tub before she was running a wash rag under warm water.

“So, uh… who were those guys that shot up my place?” You tried to show that you were unbothered by what happened, but it was clear that Kara was focused on what happened. Her hands were seconds away from ripping up the towel as she got down in front of you on her knees and began wiping the blood off your arm. You tried not to flinch as she cleaned off your skin, but she noticed it. Her eyes fell and she began to move slower and gentler, her fingers twitching and her hand shaking as she did so.

“You uhm… You remember that guy I went on a date with when we first met?” Kara bit her lip, avoiding your gaze. Almost like she was ashamed of the answer. “Turns out he’s running this… anti-alien gang in the underground. He’s targeting alien sympathizers.”

You chuckled. “Something tells me that this one was personal.”

“Yeah,” Was all Kara said in response as she finished cleaning off the blood from your large muscular arm, quickly cleaning your face and tossing the rag in the sink, then looking down at the patch on your side. You frowned at her dismissive attitude, reaching down and gently taking her chin between your fingertips.

“Kara,” You breathed softly. The Kryptonian shivered, never getting used to how softly you said her name. “Something is bothering you.”

“It’s nothing,” Kara stood up from the floor and washed her hands under the faucet. It was clear she was in her head about something and the way she was shrugging it off was not sitting well with you. Kara left the bathroom and you followed behind her, carefully stripping off your sleep pants that had blood splatters all over them. You folded them up and placed them on the bathroom floor as you raced after her.

“No, it’s not nothing,” You stated, nearly slipping in the hall as Kara pressed her hands on her hips and began walking around in that signature superhero pose that she always did. Only this time, she looked more distraught than regal. Her cape swung behind her all pretty like and the way her hair went down in golden waves never failed to make your heart race. “Baby, you have to talk to me, please.”

“No, I don’t,” Kara said defensively. She began to pull off her super suit, removing her cape and laying it down on her bed before she unzipped the back. You tried to focus, but watching her literally strip in front of you was doing things to you… “It’s not important. Don’t worry about it.”

“How can you say something that’s bothering you isn’t important?” You frowned, stepping closer to her and wrapping your arms around your bare abdomen as Kara pushed the suit down her body. You inhaled, trying your best not to look at the way her tights looked against her rear and how you could see the clear outline of her panties through the sheer material.

Kara stayed silent as she pushed the tights down her legs, now standing in her bra and underwear as she sat down on the bed and began unzipping her boots. Your entire face was a deep red as you tried to calm your beating heart but knew there wasn’t really a point. She could hear your fucking heartbeat. Instead, you chose to look away.

“I’m not going to be upset if you…” You rubbed your nose, looking at the wall. “If you tell me the truth on how you’re feeling, Kara. I just want you to know that you can be honest with me… I care about how you’re feeling—”

You couldn’t even blink before Kara was jumping off the bed and wrapping her arms around your neck, slamming her lips against yours and curling her hand into the front of your sports bra. Your entire body went stiff as you were taken aback by her response but quickly melted into her like she was everything you needed to stay alive.

It didn’t take more than a few seconds before Kara fell backwards on the bed on top of her cape, pulling you down on top of her and making sure the kiss wasn’t broken for even a second. You reached up and slid a hand into her long, beautiful blonde hair and felt your heart going absolutely insane inside of your chest.

But you needed answers. You broke the kiss and huffed, brows pulling down in confusion as Kara gave you a look of disdain and reached for your face, her fingertips brushing softly against your cheeks and pressing kisses all over your neck and shoulders. She was trying to distract you.

“Baby, baby, stop for a second—” You gently slid your hand from her waist to her wrist and pulled her right hand away from your face. She looked upset. “I need you… to be honest with me. Right now.”

A moment passed between you two where Kara looked away from your face and frowned, a single tear leaving her eyes as she avoided your gaze. You frowned and brushed her blonde hair away from her face. “I’m scared, okay?”

“Scared of what?”

Kara pressed her lips together and she laughed like it was the most ridiculous thing ever. “I’m an alien… I can stop cars with my bare hands, I can break bones without even trying… I hurt people; I’m dangerous! I’m scared of hurting you…”

You pressed the softest kiss to her face and tried to stifle her sobs that she couldn’t hold in anymore. You kissed all over her face, trying to calm her down. “No, Kara… baby, please just listen to me… I’m not fragile; I was in the army! Yes, I keep getting shot at, but that’s different… You would never hurt me—”

“How do you know?” Kara demanded, trying to rationalize her thought process.

You let out a soft breath and pressed a kiss against her face, and then slowly trailed your lips down her neck. She was still so warm against your cool skin, and it always made her shiver when you grabbed at her body. You could get lost in her warmth if she allowed you to.

“Because I know you, sweetheart…” You started gently, almost like the wrong word would scare her away forever and you’d never see her again. Your hands shook with slight anxiety as you pressed your palms into her sides, pulling her as close as possible and feeling her hot skin against your own. “And I know you wouldn’t hurt me. But if you’re really scared… let me take the lead with this.”

“Wh-What do you mean?” Kara stuttered at feeling your teeth gently graze her neck and you all but purred in response to her soft little whimper.

“Here, let me show you,” You gripped her waist and lifted her off the bed, making her gasp as you readjusted the way she was laying. Very carefully, you moved her cape down onto the side table and rested her head on the pillows, looking down and almost drooling over her.

Your hesitation made the super feel insecure. Kara bit down on her lip and her instincts screamed to cover herself, her heart pounding as she brought both arms over her chest and avoided your eyes. Almost immediately, you grabbed at her arms and tried to coax her into moving them away.

“I need you to relax, sweetheart,” You cooed sweetly, trying to calm Kara down to the best of your abilities. Your arm was screaming, begging for you to relieve some of the pressure so you didn’t reopen the wound, but you were determined. Not the first time you’ve been shot so you can handle it, better than anyone else could. “I’m gonna take care of you… Just breathe, yeah?”

The blonde nodded and let out a breath. Her superpowers began to shine through and you saw the ice crystals dance in the air and you smiled, leaning back down and reaching her lips for a gentle kiss. Every new one felt better than the last and Kara simply lost herself in what she knew was your sweet, and gentle presence. Never a day to go by where she didn’t welcome the place you took in her heart.

Your heart raced as Kara reached for the hooks on her bra. You carefully slid both hands from her sides up along her bare skin, pushing them under her and finding what she was reaching for. Almost like you were born to do it, your fingers unhooked the metal clasps flawlessly and you pushed the straps of the fabric down her arms and then removed it all together.

This was the first time you were really seeing Kara, without any clothes whatsoever. She could no doubt hear your heartbeat get faster and faster, and your body heat was rising with every passing second. You ignored the throbbing in your shoulder and the ache in your sides, focusing all your attention on the flawless Kryptonian in front of you.

“Oh my God, Kara,” You whispered like you were out of breath, eyes darting all over her pristine skin. Your fingers twitched, and you bit down on your lip so hard that you almost ended up drawing blood. Very slowly, your hands slid across her waist, sending shivers across her nerves and making the blonde whimper underneath you. “Can I touch you?”

“Y-You have been touching me,” Kara breathed, her voice shaky with a laugh that seemed almost forced. You gave her a look, one that she was very familiar with when she was joking and you were not having it. Of course, it was in a playful manner because this wasn’t something that should be super serious. “Please… please touch me.”

You reacted to her like she was a spell and you were being drawn in. Your body fell down and you pressed kisses across the blonde’s sternum, making Kara inhale sharply and arch her back off the mattress. Instead of touching with your hands, your tongue trailed across her hot skin and you pressed soft kisses and licks to the underside of her breasts, taking your time and basking in every single sweet sound she made.

It wasn’t until you felt her hands in your hair that you began to dive deeper, one hand squeezing at the soft mound of flesh on the left, while the right was drenched in kisses. You made eye contact, gazing into those beautiful blue irises before latching your lips onto her right nipple, your teeth slightly grazing her flesh and making her gasp.

“Ahh,” Kara released a breathy moan that made your toes curl with delight. You wanted more of those sounds. Your lips moved a bit harder and you pinched her left bud with your fingertips, pulling lightly and looking up to see her eyes fluttering as they rolled back in her head.

The superhero whimpered out your name. It was soft, gentle, but screamed inside your brain and it just spurred you on in your hunger for her. Your lips continued to venture down, licking a stripe between her ribs and across her abdomen before you curled your fingers into the fabric of her panties and looked up. “May I?”

Kara laughed again, in that breathless way that made you dizzy. “Unbelievable… you have me in my bed, almost naked, and you are still asking for permission?” Her laughter rang throughout the apartment and you kissed over her belly, resting your chin on the soft skin and rubbing your thumbs under the elastic of her underwear.

“What can I say? Manners to a fault, darling,” You cooed sweetly and Kara could only stare in pure wonder as you grabbed at the fabric of her panties with your teeth and, without using your hands, pulled them down her legs and tossed them over your shoulder.

The Kryptonian kept her legs together, shaking like a leaf in the fall wind as you slid your hands across her inner thighs and kissing at her bare knees. “Don’t be shy, Supergirl…” The blonde slowly opened her legs. “That’s it, good… Just like that…”

Kara reacted out of instinct and covered her face with both hands, hiding the only way she felt she could. You were staring her down, almost breathless as you stroked your hands across her inner thighs and seeing her legs tremble. It was one of the most vulnerable states you have ever seen her in. “Oh, Kara… You are so beautiful…”

“W-Why do you sound s-surprised?” Kara stuttered, removing her hands from her face and leaning up on her elbows to look down at you. A chuckle left your throat as you slowly crawled up the length of the bed and reached behind her head.

Kara watched as you carefully pulled her forward and stacked two more of the pillows on her bed behind her to keep the blonde sitting upright. “Well, you are an alien, babe… I mean, shit, I half-expected tentacles–”

“Are you kidding me?” Kara started laughing, her breath tickling your face as she felt her face go pink under your gaze. You laughed with her, pushing her blonde bangs away from her blue eyes and loving every passing second with her. “I can assure you, I do not have tentacles.”

“Oh, I know now… You have something I’m pretty familiar with,” You cooed sweetly, leaning down a little more and pressing a kiss to Kara’s neck as your right palm caressed her taut abdomen and between her legs. “And something I will enjoy… devouring to my deepest desires.”

“Ahhh, Rao yes…” Kara cursed, her fingers curling into the pillows as her eyes rolled back in her head. You watched with pure fascination and love at her beautiful reactions, seeing her chest rise and fall with each deep breath as your fingers gently stroked between her slick, beautiful folds.

She was so warm, so soft, and so… so everything you were addicted to. You were gentle, and you didn’t pay too much attention to a particular area on her cunt, exploring what she liked and what made her tremble and turn to putty in your hands. You pushed her legs apart a little more and looked down, watching how her body reacted.

“Wow,” You smirked. “Someone’s excited, huh?”

“Y-You’re mean,” Kara whined, hips jerking upward whenever your fingertips brushed over her clit, begging for you to touch right there. “T-T-Teasing me like th-this…”

“Oh,” Your other hand reached for her chin, slowly turning her head so she could look directly in your eyes. You bit your lip and watched her eyes dilate before focusing your fingertips against that bundle of nerves that felt so human against your hands. “This what you want?”

For the smallest second, you saw her eyes glow with heat vision before she blinked it away, forcing herself to calm down and relax. If she wasn’t careful, she would shoot lasers right through the ceiling.

“Yes! Yes, yes, Rao yes,” You loved it when she used her God’s name in vain. It proved she wasn’t as pure and innocent as people made her out to be. You rubbed at her in tight circles, watching her muscles tighten and her back arch off the mattress underneath her. “Feels so good!”

You were basking in her sweet words, enjoying the way Kara said your name, and followed it up with a soft curse word that swiftly rolled off her tongue. You were focused, watching and enjoying her wiggling on her bed before your fingers left her clit and began to dive down deeper. Kara felt your pause and looked up at you, eyes wide and toes curling against the covers around her feet. “Wh-Why did you–”

A soft grin spread on your face and before Kara could question you further, you slipped two fingers past her warm walls and inside of her tightness. The Kryptonian let out an embarrassingly loud cry of surprise melted with pleasure and her right hand went from under the pillows where she was containing her strength, to grab at your wrist and squeeze.

You instinctively flinched and stilled your movements. “Too much? Could just say so…”

“W-wait, wait,” Kara panted, her inner muscles contracting around your fingers and making you shiver at just how strong every single inch of her was. “B-Before you… keep going, we need a… a, uhm… uhh–”

“A safe word, baby?” You said, leaning down and kissing at her cheek, nuzzling against her skin and admiring how you managed to make her shiver every time. “I have something you will be able to remember… If I go too far, I want you to say ‘Kryptonite’. Think you can remember that, baby?”

Your fingers gently pressed against all her inside walls and Kara yelped, releasing your wrist and grabbing at the sheets under her body. “Y-Yes! Yes, I can remember th-that. Now pleaaaase keep going, please?”

The poor blonde looked close to tears and you decided she had enough torture. Very carefully, you set a soft and gentle pace, observing Supergirl like she was a test subject in a lab. Your eyes trailed across her facial features, how the crease in her brows would crinkle slightly, how her nostrils flared and the way her chest moved with each harsh breath in her lungs.

You had never seen Kara get winded before, never seen her truly tired. But in this moment, you could see sweat forming on her brow and dripping down her face. Kara was using so much of her strength to hold back… It was beautiful, but you couldn't help the guilt you felt.

But it didn't look like Kara had that thought process. The superhero was willingly submitting to you, which is something she's never done with anybody. Even with the miniscule information you learned about her past partner, she never seemed like the girl to submit like this… To willingly offer up control to you felt like the most intimate offering she could ever give you.

You were drawn into her like she was a livewire and you couldn’t let go. Your fingers stretched her out, relaxing her muscles from the inside and leaning down to wrap your lips back around her nipple and licking at her sensitive flesh.

Kara snapped again, her hands releasing the sheets from her grasp and curling her fingers in your hair as she voiced her pleasure out loud. You didn’t flinch this time, so entranced with her sounds and the way she showed her desperation for more. Your tongue trailed over her hot skin, and down across her sternum, going lower and lower until you were laying down between her legs, watching up close and almost drooling at the sight.

“Hear that, baby?” You pressed your hand against her lower belly and without warning, sped up your finger motions and listened to the squelching sounds her pussy made against your fingers. Kara cried out, her spine arching and her inner walls clenching down. “Such a messy girl, aren’t you? God, so sexy…”

Kara was drinking your praise up like it was water. It felt like she was feeding on you as she writhed and squirmed on the bedsheets, looking down and watching your eyes glimmer with something that she could only define as mischief.

Before she could ask what you were thinking… The Kryptonian let out a loud shout of pleasure and her entire body jolted towards your awaiting mouth. Kara swore she saw stars behind her eyes as your tongue met her clit and you gave it a soft, experimental lick while curling your fingers upward and pressing them against what you knew was a sweet spot.

“Fuuuuuck,” You stared in wonder as your tongue began working faster, drooling on her pussy and fucking down into her as deep as her muscles would allow. You had never heard Kara swear like that before, and now that you had? You wanted more. It was like you were deriving pleasure from this too, just like she was. “Fuck, fuck, shit, th-that feels so fucking good!”

In your pussy-drunk state, you had this sinking suspicion that Kara Danvers has never been eaten out before. How dare someone strip this woman bare, spread her beautiful legs, and not wish to feast upon her like she isn’t the most delectable thing in the entire galaxy?!

Your efforts doubled, wrapping your lips around her clit and experimentally sucking on the bud. Kara cried out, sitting up a little further and looking down to gaze into your eyes. Her own were glowing, and for a minute, you thought of stopping but decided against it.

Is that what Kara did when she was about to cum? Did her super powers start to act up? Her fingers dug into the bedsheets and you heard an audible tearing sound. Her breath came out cold, panting like a dog in the sun as she rolled her hips against your skilled mouth. She was practically fucking herself down on your fingers and you carefully slipped in another one, making her shamelessly call out your name.

“D-Don’t stop,” Kara begged, her teeth clenching as she lifted her hips upward and began grinding on your tongue. You persisted, your mouth keeping pace and moving your fingers faster as your other hand gripped her hip and held her as still as her super strength would allow. You twisted your tongue at just the right angle, and your fingers hit the right spot inside of her, and Kara was screaming. “Don’t stop! Oh Rao, right there! Please, please don’t st–”

Her voice cut off with a deep cry of euphoria as she fell backward on her mattress and you could feel her inner walls contracting around your fingers. The glow in her eyes got brighter and before you could realize what was happening, her heat vision activated and did exactly what you thought she would do, which was burn a hole through her ceiling.

You didn’t care. You kept fucking her through her orgasm, drooling on her cunt and hissing at her left hand going to your back and digging her nails into your flesh. She made cuts, but you endured, loving how she marked you in her own special way.

Kara’s cries of bliss faded to soft whimpers as you slowed your movements, lifting up off the bed and grinning. Her face went pink at the wetness dripping from your chin and all you did was lick your lips and wipe your mouth against your uninjured bicep.

The blonde whined as you removed your fingers from inside of her and sobbed at seeing you bring them up and lick them clean. “Fuck, you taste like cosmic bliss, babygirl.”

You didn’t get to flatter her anymore before Kara was yanking you down and pressing kisses all over your face and on your lips. She didn’t seem to mind the taste of herself as she pulled back to breathe and wiped at your nose with her hand. “Are you okay?”

You laughed, tossing your head back for a second. “Kara, baby, I’m fine… Your roof isn't though.”

Both of you looked up and saw the smoking hole in the ceiling, her face turning red and her heart beating fast enough that you could feel it if you concentrated. You chuckled, leaning down and kissing her once again before you laid on her chest. You knew she could handle your weight, and you didn’t mind basking in her warmth as you nuzzled against her bare chest and enjoyed hearing her heart.

But the second was short lived as Kara gasped and shot up straight. “Oh no, no, no,” Kara muttered, her eyes widening as she looked down and ran her fingers across your back where the blood was ever so slightly beading at the surface where her nails cut in. “I hurt you… I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“Kara, hey, hey it's okay…” You cooed softly, reaching for her face and gently rubbing your thumbs across her cheekbones. Kara couldn’t keep the tears at bay as she held you by the wrists. “It’s okay… I liked it.”

“Y-You liked that I hurt you?” She frowned.

You simply smiled and kissed her forehead. “I did. You didn’t know this about me, but I’m a bit of a masochist… A little pain during sex? I like it a lot.”

“Oh,” Kara blinked a little before she smirked and leaned back in, kissing at your neck. “Then I think I will have some fun with you too…”

“Just remember our safe word, babe,” You mumbled, practically melting in her hands as Kara started to remove your sports bra with nothing but her bare strength, tearing it at the seams and shredding the fabric to pieces.

Kara gently bit down on your neck and you gasped, bucking against her. “Kryptonite…”

Alex hadn’t bothered knocking on Kara’s door for a long time now. It used to be her apartment, and it wasn’t like Kara had super hearing to sense whenever Alex was in the hallway… oh wait, yes she did.

“Kara!” Alex shouted out from the front door as she closed it behind her, a box of breakfast pastries sitting in her right arm. “I have a present!”

Alex was so busy setting the box down on the counter and opening it up that when she heard someone stumble out of the bedroom, she did a whole double take at seeing you in one of Kara’s massive shirts that she would sleep in. Of course, it wasn’t that big on you due to your muscular build.

“Uh… Hey Alex,” You anxiously rubbed at your neck and Alex was practically gaping at the sight of you. Just from here, Alex could count at least seven hickies on your neck. You had a fresh set of bandages on your arm, which was shocking to see because Alex doesn’t remember you getting shot in the arm, just the side.

Your hair was a total mess, and Alex saw even more bite marks on your thighs. What in the actual hell did Kara do to you? She never saw Kara make those kinds of marks on any of her partners before. The blonde was deeply terrified of hurting others,so for her to bruise you and so openly? It was so bizarre!

Kara called out your name from around the corner and you looked just in time to hold out your arms. The super stumbled for a second. “What? What is it?”

You bit your lip and looked at Alex before seeing Kara use her x-ray vision to see who was on the other side of the wall. Almost instantly, she started shouting at her. “Alex! Why didn’t you knock?!”

“How did you not hear me?!” Alex chirped back, biting into a muffin on the counter and sighing. “Not so super right now, huh?”

“Honey, you should uhm…” You looked at the blonde and how she was completely bare in the hallway, much to your enjoyment. You didn’t want to tell her, but it was needed. “Put something on?”

The Kryptonian felt like dying in that moment, running back towards the bathroom and slamming the door shut harder than intended. You flinched and looked at Alex, nervously shuffling over to the kitchen island and rubbing your hands down over your face.

“Whatever you are about to say,” Alex started, making you look up. “Keep it to your damn self.”

“Wasn’t gonna say anything Agent Danvers,” You teased. “But I will tell you that my apartment was shot up last night…”

“Wh-What, why didn’t–” Alex sputtered, pushing the muffin away on the countertop and reaching for the bandages on your bicep. You simply allowed her to do whatever she liked, knowing damn well that she would pull the superior card like she loves to do whenever you get injured. Very carefully, Alex began to snip away at the bandages with her personal trauma shears that she kept on her person at all times, exposing the bullet hole in your arm. “Why do you keep getting shot at?”

“Woman, I am a lead magnet,” You said, flinching a little at the cold air touching the exposed, puckered and bruised flesh with the gaping wound on full display. Alex rewrapped your arm with the bandages sitting in the open medkit that Kara left out the night before and let out a deep, uncomfortable sigh. You frowned. “It wasn’t my fault this time.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Agent,” Alex snapped, making you blush with embarrassment. “Who was it?”

“Remember when me and Kara met? And I beat that guy up in the bar? Well, he’s targeting alien sympathizers, but I think he just had it out for me as some form of payback for getting him arrested again.”

Alex made a face of disapproval and immediately pushed the box of pastries in your direction. You immediately reached in, taking a chocolate croissant from the pile and smiling with gratitude. “If you had the night I think you had, you definitely need sugar.”

“I thought we weren’t gonna talk about it.”

“We’re not talking about it, I’m just stating something rhetorical.”

“Alex,” Kara demands her sister’s attention, wearing a tank top and sleep shorts, much to your disappointment now. “Stop embarrassing my girlfriend, please?”

You immediately felt your face turn a deep pink and pretended to be very interested in the croissant in your hands, biting into the pastry and shifting your weight back and forth between your feet and refusing to look up at either of the Danvers sisters.

“Is this my life from now on?” You muttered.

Kara snorted, picking up her own muffin and rubbing her fingers across your upper thigh making you shiver. “I didn’t hear you complaining last night, or this morning–”

Alex gagged. “Kara, gross! Stop!”

Well, if this is my life… You thought with a smile. I could definitely get used to it.

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