#I wouldn't mind being on my knees for him

[wayeasier]

COUNT TO TWENTY-TWO — part ten

⋆˙⟡ robert (bob) reynolds x reader (thunderbolts*)

summary: From missions across the States to a mission in Europe. The weight of words that went with you lingered by, stuck like a shadow that follows you. And there really is someone that lights your whole life. But even with them beside you, you’re beginning to see that this really isn’t over. Not yet. And maybe not for a long time.

warnings: canon-typical violence, swearing, mention of kissing (nothing major), thunderbolts* spoilers (obviously)

author's note: english is not my native language, so i apologize for all grammatical errors / mistakes in my writing (if there are any!)

author's note 2: ...well. the last chapter is there ;,)

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR | PART FIVE | PART SIX | PART SEVEN | PART EIGHT | PART NINE | PART TEN

You're on a mission.

You're not on a mission in the States this time. Most of them were in the States. This is the first one in Europe. You're in Montenegro. The exact name of the city never made it past your ears. It didn't really matter. It was a small city. The kind of city that people just drive through without caring. It looked almost like the whole city itself was forgotten, especially by the people living there.

There was silence. Not a silence when people are scared or when they're trying to hide. It's too complete, too hollow, like the buildings themselves forgotten that they stood there. That kind of silence that doesn’t belong to the living, to being alive.

The apartment block you were in looked like it should’ve fallen years ago. Damp and gray. Graffiti on the outside was in a language you didn’t speak. The whole city looked tired. Powerline hung from one roof to another, a few disheveled and dirty pigeons sitting on them if you leaned just well out of the window to see them. It was greying and mold was growing on the ceilings. It was rusting too. And the inside of the apartment was looking even worse. The wallpapers on the walls were peeling and the colours were nearly drained, very plain and almost depressive looking. Mold and despair are everywhere.

You were the only one from the team right now. The others are spread out inside the building too, checking different apartments on each floor.

You were not completely alone, though.

Across from you are four men tied up on the floor. Their backs are pressed against the peeling wallpaper of the apartment you're in. Their legs are stretched out in front of them and their wrists are bound tightly behind them, just against their backs.

You stood there before them, your hands on your hips with one leg slightly bent. Staring down at the four men with complete silence.

And they stared back. One with a scowl that you wanted to rip off his face. He looked at you like you had ruined his whole day. Maybe even the whole month. The two others were staring at you, but not like him. They were observing, you couldn't even pinpoint what their expression was. They were just staring at you, blinking slowly at each time. It wasn't hostile. Not exactly. The last one was staring at his outstretched feet, not daring to meet your gaze. He wouldn't meet your gaze at all. He looked the youngest out of them, his knee twitching slightly as he sat on the floor.

It's been quiet for a while. You tilted your head slowly, still staring at them, "I know that all four of you understand English. So, do me a favour and answer my question."

Even after that, none of them moved. None of them spoke, they just stared and blinked. So; you crouched down. Slowly. Your elbows on your knees, bringing yourself down to their level.

“I’m not really in the mood to start breaking each of your fingers until you speak,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders, your gaze moving from one to another, "but if you wanna stay quiet and scowl at me some more, I can start... I won't really mind."

The man with a scowl stared at you and it looked like his expression deepened even more. They were still quiet. You fought the urge to roll your eyes at the stubborn four men.

You stood up slowly again. Straightening back to your full height, your arms folding loosely over your chest, you now back to towering over the four very quiet men.

“The transmitter,” you repeated once again, "that little transmitter... the one that’s been sending signals to places all over Eastern Europe and Balkans then all the way to the States from this rat-hole of a place, "you gestured around the apartment as you mentioned the place you were in, "the one that sent those messages.”

Your eyes glanced over the four of them again, "and hell," you said to them, "I know that you know what messages I mean.”

You stared down at the four tied-up men. The silence was taking over again, like it was silence's own palace. But then the silence cracked suddenly.

It was the quiet one who spoke first. The one who had kept his eyes fixed to his feet and didn't even lift his gaze up. He didn’t look up at first when he spoke. His voice came so utterly quiet and his voice was slightly different by the accent of his.

“The vent,” he muttered under his nose, "in the bathroom.”

You tilted your head at him, eyes narrowing slightly. Then he lifted his head and his gaze finally met yours. First time.

“You need to check the vent in the bathroom,” he repeated. His accent was unmistakably Balkan, each word heavier and flavored with the Montenegrin accent.

And then came the outburst.

The man with the scowl snapped towards the quiet man so fast that you didn't even notice his head turn. He shouted something harsh at the man in his language. The man with a scowl trashed and his shoulder slammed against the quiet one as he barked out words in Montenegrin. He might've cursed, warned him, or threatened him. It didn't matter, he was going wild at the man. Like a beast was unleashed.

The quiet man didn’t flinch. Didn’t even glance at the aggressive man's way. He kept his eyes on you, unblinking and staring.

That made you smile. You offered him a little nod and then you turned on your boots towards where the mentioned bathroom was. Then you walked down the short hallway where the small bathroom was. You flicked on the light switch that was at the outside of the small bathroom. You entered the small space of the bathroom and the light on the ceiling buzzed and blinked a few times before it then stayed lit.

As you entered, just in front of you was a mirror that had a huge crack in the middle, nearly not showing your reflection. You tried to glance at yourself in the mirror, though there wasn’t much to see. It was all distorted. You let your eyes linger over the old-looking space. There was mold in the corner of the ceiling just above the mirror. On the floor, just in front of the sink was a rusted vent.

You crouched down, your knee against the tiles of the floor. Your finger traced the edge of the rusted metal and then you found the small part where you could slip your fingertips in. You popped it and took the opening out, setting it beside you. As the metal rattled against the tiles, you leaned forward and narrowed your eyes at the inside of the hole.

Settled just inside the small hole where the vent was, was a small black transmitter half-hidden by an old ripped paper box.

There was a black, long antenna tucked into a bend over its top. On the front was a small display, blinking at you with an off-green colour. The exact item that got Valentina barking at you about for weeks for you to retrieve it.

You reached in with your gloved hand and grabbed the transmitter into your hand. Pulling it out of its hiding spot. You could still hear the man yell in Montenegrin at the other one in the living room.

You turned the black transmitter over in your hand, examining the device from each side. You then stood back up and your eyes caught the cracked reflection of yourself, then you turned around and went back to the room where the shouting was coming from.

As you stepped into the living room, all four of the men turned their eyes on you again. The quiet one stared at your face and then his eyes fell on the small device in your hand and then back up, a small smirk on his lips. The man with a scowl muttered something low under his breath in Montenegrin as his eyes fell upon the device in your hand.

You raised your left hand up near your mouth and pushed the small button on the side of your pointer with your thumb, the comms very quietly clicking into work, "found the transmitter. It's still active. Apartment on the fifth floor. Four men, tied up."

"Copy that!" a voice you didn't expect answered you the first.

It was Bob.

"What are you doing on the comms?" you chuckled as you brought your hand back up to your mouth and clicked the small button.

"Um... nothing," he muttered back and you shook your head.

"Shut up, Bob—I'm on my way, Twenty-Two. Stay put," sounded another voice, cutting off Bob. It was John this time who answered.

Boots then thudded just outside of the apartment and then you heard the doors slam against the wall as they were opened. John entered the apartment, scanning his surroundings before coming into the living room where you were with the four tied up men. His gaze fell on the young first, then the men, then on the device in your hands.

He smirked at that and raised his gaze back up, "nice work."

He came closer to you and he grabbed the transmitter out of your hand, observing the small device in his own, "this... this is the thing that got Valentina like a raging dog? What a surprise."

"A dirty tech that's pretty effective... for guys like these," you nodded towards the men in front of you who were all staring at you and the shielded man.

John took his gaze up from the device in his hands and looked at the scowling man in front of him on the floor, "oh. This one’s definitely a charmer,” he muttered at the man. His scowl deepened and that made John grin.

"Well... Let’s get it back to Valentina before either she or the scowly-guy over here spits in my face," John muttered and gave the transmitter back to you. You unzipped a pocket on your tactical vest and slid it into the inside of it. Zipping it back to secure it against your chest. John goes around the apartment, dipping into each room to check the old space around.

"So,” Bob’s voice comes through the comms, “when you say four men tied up, should I be concerned or… impressed?”

You rolled your eyes, your thumb brushing the comms button on your pointer, "concerned that I’m going to tie you up next?" you joked.

"Okay. Woah? No," Bob's voice cut through the comms, "that was not where I thought this was going!”

You smirked, staring down at the four men who were still blabbering to each other in Montengerin. You clicked the button and raised your hand back up, "where did you think it was then going, Bob?”

There was a pause until Bob then spoke, "honestly? Somewhere between bragging about it and you explaining how you got four men down. Not some—"

"Oh, for fuck’s sake," came another voice from somewhere in apartment behind you.

The man came back into the living room with the most disgusted expression drawn on his face, "hi, John.”

“No. No. No. You don’t get to hi, John me," he pointed his finger at you, his eyes narrowed, "I just walked into this rat-hole and you two are out here flirting like a pair of weirdos," he said with heavy voice as he stopped just beside you, his shield on his back brushing against your elbows as your hands are on your hips. You gave him a look over your shoulder.

"You're both disgusting," he deadpanned at you.

You were quick to respond to him, “you're just mad because no one flirts with you over the comms.”

Before John could let another threat or something similar go out of his mouth, a tied-up man in front of you spoke. It wasn't the scowly one or the quiet one. It was another who didn't speak yet.

"You—you letting us out?" one of the men spoke, his voice laced with the same accent the other man had. His voice was rough, almost like he hadn't breathed in a while.

John turned to him and grinned, "oh! Absolutely!" John said as he slowly stepped towards the man on the floor. He crouched down a little, "just as soon as you tell me why you’re transmitting signals all over the Eastern Europe and the Balkans. And two of them that had pinged within two miles of a NATO base last week?"

The man stared with his mouth open slightly. John tilted his head, still crouched in front of the man. That fake grin of his was still plastered like a shining badge on his face.

"Come on, buddy," John leaned closer with a grin, "we will be quiet now?" he stared at the now quieted down men on the floor who were just blinking at him.

"Alright. You wanna try the tie people up and flirt with Bob while you're staring at them method again? Might work faster because they're just blinking at me like some fish," he turned his head over his shoulder to look at you behind him. He then stood upright, slapping his palms onto his knees which made all four men flinch like hurt puppies.

"Nothing?" you asked them, staring at the four men on the floor. Then you saw a small movement by the quiet man on the floor.

The quiet one hesitated. It was there. You could see his eyes flicker over your face and then back at his feet.

He swallowed thickly before speaking, "they just pay us," he muttered, voice thick with that Balkan accent, "they don’t tell us names. Just locations where the signals are sent to. We just transmit it. That’s all. They pay us very good for it. Euros in cash. Every second Friday."

"We just transmit it. That's all," John mocked the man's words with also mockery of his accent, "just? Are you hearing yourself?"

The man slightly flinched at the mockery and his eyes snapped from you to the shielded man who was standing just beside you now.

“Please... We—We only did what we were told," the man on the opposite end spoke, he hadn't spoken before. His pronunciation was so far the best, the native accent almost gone.

"If I told you to jump out of the window. Would you?" John pressed, his eyes moving towards the man who spoke.

"How much would you pay?" the man grinned at him with a sly smile that showed off his yellowing teeth.

From the comms, Bob piped in, "he is funny," and then you were quick to drag your thumb over the small button on your pointer to mute him.

"Fucking dickheads..." John muttered under his breath and rolled his eyes with a shake of his head.

"They told us to send the signals, messages, everything... And to not ask questions," the quiet man continued, his voice lowering slowly at each other word he spoke.

“And you didn’t?” you asked the man.

He looked at you with a tilt of his head, “you ever tried asking questions when you know they will kill you?"

"Alright. I'm done," John turned around with a loud sigh and started thumping across the wooden floor of the living room toward the front door to get out.

“Wait! Wait!” the man who was beside the man with a scowl lifted his bound hands. Or at least tried to, "you... you can’t just leave us! If they find out we told you—"

John glanced over his shoulder as he neared the door of the apartment, "then I suggest you to pretend that you didn’t."

As you moved to follow John, the quiet man spoke again, "you’re not so different from us, you know..."

You turned to him at that, "really?”

He nodded, "we just follow orders like you do."

The flight back home was long, quiet, and dragged slowly. Ava was somewhere in the front talking with Yelena about some terrible smell in one of the apartments in the apartment block they'd been in just a few hours before. Alexei was asleep, his head hung at his shoulder, his mouth parted slightly. Bucky was sitting alone near the two women, but he was listening to their conversation about the smell in the apartment. His lips twitched sometimes, fighting the urge to let the smile come up.

But your mind wasn’t on that. You weren't listening to any conversation around you. You were somewhere quite different. You were thinking about something quite different.

Your mind was stuck. It was stuck on what the quiet man had said to you back in that old apartment. He had a point.

The transmitter felt heavy in your hands. You looked down at it, turning the small thing in your hands.

John was sitting next to you, arm slung lazily over the edge of his shield that was propped up between his outstretched legs. He glanced over and saw you fiddling with the transmitter in your hands. He snatched it before you could even notice, "you're not going to be turning that thing over and over again in your hands until it explodes," he muttered. The device now in his hands. The display was still blinking in green colour.

"Jesus, this thing is small... Weird, right? All this mess from something this small," he turned the transmitter in his hand, inspecting the size of the small device.

You didn't answer him. You just stared at your hands where the small device was moments before.

"You good?" John glanced over at you, not turning the device in his hands anymore.

"He had a point", you murmured quietly, eyes unblinking. You thought about that sentence that man told you. It was stuck in you.

“Who?” John's body shifted as he turned to look at your sitting figure just beside him.

“The quiet one.”

John blinked at you twice before he asked, “the one who ratted out where this thing was?”

You nodded once at his question, confirming who you meant, "he... he said we’re not so different. That we just follow orders like they do... like they did."

"You think that makes us the same?” he asked you. You sighed lowly and leaned your head against the wall of the jet you were in. Letting your eyelids flutter shut, closing them for a moment to get it all in.

"If you—" you started to say, but you were just then cut off by John snapping back to not let you defend your point of view. You opened your eyes back, eyes moving towards the man beside you who was so eager to explain the situation to you.

"We are not the same. They follow orders to keep their heads attached. We follow orders hoping we can stop something worse before it happens," John said, his voice was different from when he jokes with you, when he throws around remarks and makes you want to slap his forehead. He was serious right now. He wanted you to listen to him.

"What we do now... it is not about orders. Not really... Well, it is about orders, but it is different. We are different," He turned in his seat to face you more closely, "it's about the people. It's about stepping in before—" he trailed off, shaking his head and dropping it forward in between his shoulders. One blonde strand was falling over from where the others were brushed back. That stupid beret hat was on the seat next to him on the seat he was sitting on top of.

You breathed in through your nose slowly. You didn’t respond. But your eyes stayed open now, staring at the transmitter as it blinked between you, "I'm just wondering.. what's the difference there. Between what they’re doing and what we’re doing."

John glanced at it, then over at you, "they are doing it for money... or fear. They do those things because someone had promised them something," he explained softly. His voice was low, but yet so tender and understanding.

"And us?” you asked softly, lifting your head to look at the man with the shield beside you. You have your own answers to your own question, but you had to hear it come from the man's mouth. To confirm whatever idea had made itself up in your mind, if it was the same as the truth you'd been holding onto. It was something you had trusted yourself in believing.

"We do it for the people we may never meet. We save them. And why?" he asked himself the question and he soon then answered it himself, "because we both... we all know what it feels like when no one shows up. When no one saves you."

"Feels like both sides still leave bodies behind,” you murmured, looking down at the empty space in your hands. It felt as if the empty space was not in your hands, but in your chest. Like it was without anything to hold onto, like it wasn't you inside.

John didn’t deny it. He didn't nod, he didn't shake his head, he didn't say anything. He just stayed quiet and just stared at you, unblinking.

"So we’re not the same," you repeated, slowly lifting your head back up, your gaze following the trail up to his face.

“No,” John answered sternly, his jaw visibly clenching, "no. We're not.”

John sat back with a sigh, finally brushing that strand of his blonde hair away from his forehead. The shield between his legs was digging into the inner side of his knee as he leaned backward slightly.

“You want it back?” John nudged your shoulder with his, holding the transmitter in his hand and motioning it towards you.

You shook your head, "I’ve held it long enough. Thanks."

And then, the conversation eased. You let your eyes linger closed for a moment more and you don't even remember falling asleep. But you did.

The return to the States had been fast. At least for you. By the time you touched the land of the other continent, you were back awake. Your eyes fluttered open when the jet made contact with the Watchtower's heliport. You were then back from the Montenegro's small city that you couldn't even name or point on a map, back in the United States' big New York City.

The post-mission briefing was a blur.

It was late at night when you came back. And it still is. You are tired, and your eyelids were fluttering close every few minutes while she was speaking during the briefing. Valentina had talked like a madwoman. That woman did not need to yell at anyone, she didn't even need to raise her voice. She only spoke like she stood on top of the world.

She went over everything. Every single thing on the mission. Every small detail that you even forgotten that happened. There were so many details. Too many details that you couldn't even focus on.

You're not even sure how long the briefing was. For how many minutes she had talked. Maybe it was half an hour, maybe a whole hour. You don't know and you rather don't even want to know. Then, eventually, at the end of the briefing, she had called in a man from her team. She passed the transmitter to this man who was a tech operative. He looked as exhausted as the rest of you were. It was a deep night after all. People wanted to sleep right now. Not to do whatever Valentina thought was good to pull out in the middle of the night.

Then, it was finally over.

You even heard Alexei let out a small cheer when Valentina finally left the briefing room, Mel, her assistant, and the tech operative guy hot on her heels. Following her just a step behind. Both tired-looking too.

You barely remembered walking the halls after that. You don't remember walking to your room, but you were there. And you were glad you were. You took a shower right after you went into your room, took off that now-sweaty grey tactical suit, and took the shower that should've woken you up a bit. It didn't really. You felt even more tired somehow. The tiredness grabbing onto your shoulders with an even stronger grip now, pushing you down and down.

Now, you were just staring. Into the wall on the opposite side.

Sitting on that way too comfortable bed, your legs pulled up to your chest, arms wrapped loosely around them as you just stared.

You didn’t know what time it was. Didn’t care. You were tired. You are still tired. But you don't want to sleep, you don't want yourself to be pulled back into that darkness. You were not just tired.

You were worn out.

A knock broke through the staring haze. Just one. Not too hard. Not too soft. It was his knock. A knock you recognize too well.

You didn’t even look up at the sound. You didn’t need to.

Then the door opened slowly. Quietly. Then Bob slid into your room, stepping inside like he’d done it a hundred times before. Like it was his own space. ‪He shut the door quietly behind him when he slipped into your room. He then lingered near the closed doors for a moment. Almost like he was not sure if he was intruding on you right now. But it didn’t matter, he was never intruding really. You didn’t tell him to leave. You never told him to.

You didn’t look up at him when you heard his feet shuffle closer to you. He stepped even closer and you still didn’t lift your head. Then, you felt him even closer. Then he sat down. The bed dipped beside you as he lowered himself. His shoulder brushed yours, his warmth radiating off him as he was pretty close to you.

"Hey... You're not asleep," Bob softly said.

"I noticed," you let a small smile find its way onto your face, but your eyes didn't move from where you were staring ahead of you. It was hard to move. Bob didn’t say anything to that. Not right away, he just breathed out and stared at you from where he was sitting beside you.

“Do you want me to go?” he asked after a moment, hesitation lacing his words like a new flavor. You noticed his fingers brushing over the edges of his sleeves.

"No," you shook your head just as he asked that question. Your eyes were burning. Like they were so dry. From how long they’d been open, staring at the same place on the wall before you.

You turned your head to the side. Finally looked at him. He turned his head too slightly. He was looking at you the whole time. But now he met your gaze. Neither of you said anything. Just stared.

“I didn’t know if you would... if you would want company tonight," Bob murmured quietly, his blue eyes staring right down at you, "but I didn’t want you to be alone.”

His hand then reached forward, the tips of his fingers slowly moving over your knuckles until his palm was against the top of your hand. A gentle gesture. A soft one.

Then, just around you. The light drained out and so did the colour. The world around you was no longer your room. It wasn't the Watchtower. You were not in New York.

Everything shifted. Everything was different now. The bed you were on was gone. Your entire room was gone. Bob’s warm hand in yours was gone.

The air was freezing. Painfully freezing. Wind was screaming against you. It was pushing you around, making you stagger backwards each time. The cold was pushing at your body like you didn't belong here. The world around you was so bright, so white. You couldn't tell where you were.

But you knew where you were. You recognized it too well.

Snow was everywhere, You couldn't do anything against the cold now. You were not in your tactical suit like you were before. You were just in a plain shirt that hung loosely on your frame. It was way too big. There was a pair of tactical pants with pockets that did nothing to warm you. No warmth to you. No jacket. No gloves. No gear.

This cold bit at you. It got into your whole body. Into your bones, everywhere. It hurt. Blades made out of ice scraping against the skin of your face, on your cheeks, and almost everywhere. You sank into that cold, wet snow below you, your feet hurting from the cold. Starting to feel numb with each passed second.

And then you heard it. Just a small bit of a noise. It was quiet, but it was there. Just somewhere in that snowstorm that was happening around you.

An engine. Tires against the crunching snow. There was a truck somewhere. It looked blurry through the veil of snow in your vision. But it was there, moving forward. Headlights lighting its snowy path in front of itself.

But you just stared. You didn't yell out at it like before. But you just tried to walk forward, pushing your legs through the snow. You moved forward, pushing your way through.

You squinted as you looked for that figure. For that certain figure. For the younger you. Your muscles cried as you made your way through the pain and suffering. But you had to.

You stumbled forward, your knees sinking into the snow. But then you saw it. You saw the silhouette just there.

It was a teenager, maybe sixteen. And it was you. Tactical pants with pockets empty and boots were frozen and buried in the snow. Then a shirt that was far too big for the teenager's frame. A plain t-shirt in the freezing cold. Own thin arms wrapped tightly around own chest, arms trembling violently in the coldness surrounding the figure. The head of the teenager was bowed slightly, looking like the figure was asleep, but standing still in the depths of snowy death.

"Hey,” you called, voice muffled by the whipping snow and wind around you.

The younger figure of you didn’t move. Didn't even lift their head or turn towards you. Just stayed like before.

You tried again, "hey! Are you okay?" but the figure didn't move. When you were there before, the teen looked at you. But this time, it was almost like the younger you was ignoring you. So, you let your hand fall gently against the teen's ice-cold shoulder.

The teenager's head lifted. Those eyes that looked up were yours. It pulled at your chest. You were looking at yourself.

You found yourself gazing at the same person. You were staring at yourself. The younger version of yourself. Maybe, sixteen. Those eyes that were looking into yours were yours, you recognized them from anywhere. It was you. You then slowly let go of the teenager's shoulder, your fingers brushing over the cold shoulder.

"Are we going to die?"

The teenager spoke. You blinked at the younger self, your mouth parting slightly. You looked around instead of answering the teenager. Looking at the flat white around you, scalding you with cold and snow. Like you were a hostage in your own worst memory.

You didn’t answer the teen's question. Because you already did before. You’d answered the teen's question before. It was just repeating and it was not real. That's what you told yourself as you stood there, cold ripping into you like a killing venom. Nothing but white was in your vision. Just the flying snow and cold itching at your skin. And the silhouette of the teenager.

"Why do they like hurting us?” the teenager asked quietly. Asking the same question that the younger you asked the last time you were there. It was the same. The teenager stared ahead now, looking into the snow before, "what did we do wrong?”

You still didn't answer. But you saw something in those eyes. It was different from before. Like the memory was changing, like the younger you felt something different. The question stung at your chest, it fell hard on you. You remembered how it felt the first time you heard it. When it came from your own, but a younger mouth.

The teenager then turned their head towards you, "can you… can you stay with me? Until I… until I leave?”

You stared at the teenager. At yourself. At the figure before that was you. The cold wind raged around the younger figure, but the teen stood still, arms still wrapped around own chest. Same as before.

You closed your eyes and let out a deep breath.

"Bob. This is enough."

You opened your eyes as you let those words leave your mouth. Just as you opened them, next to the younger figure of you was standing Bob. Looking right at you, the snow whipping around him too. He just stood there, next to the younger you like he belonged in your memory. In this memory.

His eyes were on you. Not the teenager. Not the snow. Just you.

"You answered the questions before... You stayed last time," he watched you as he spoke through the snow around him. The teenager stayed, almost like the teen couldn't see Bob there.

"Bob,” you said again, this time lower than before. Bob didn't reply, but he turned his head to the side, looking down at the younger you beside him. Trembling in the cold, nearing own end against the merciless coldness.

"Bob..." you said again, this time your voice was firmer. His eyes met yours as you spoke, he took one last look at the younger you beside him, and by the next blink of your eyes, you were gone.

The coldness was gone, the snow around was good, and the bright white was gone. And you were not cold anymore. Your right hand was much warmer than other parts of your body. Bob’s hand was still in yours,

“Hey…”

A voice. Bob’s voice.

You were back in your room, sitting on your bed and Bob was right next to you.

“You shouldn’t have seen that,” you muttered as you slowly pulled your hand away from his that was on top of yours. Your hand slipped from under his warm palm and fell right into your lap. You didn’t look at him as you did it, you stared down at your lap where your hands were now. Bob felt something shift inside him at that gesture, but he didn't need to speak.

"You stayed with... stayed with yourself last time," Bob finally spoke, voice careful like he wasn't sure if the choice of his words was right.

You turned your head slowly, eyes finally locking onto his blue ones, "I had to."

Bob nodded slowly, his gaze never wavering from yours. The quiet understanding flowing in his eyes.

"Why were you... there?" he asked after a moment, wondering how the younger teen got into a snow blizzard like that with nothing but a pair of pants and a loose shirt.

You breathed out with a noise, moving your eyes away from him and letting your head fall between your shoulders down.

"It was a mission. Or rather an experiment. They were still trying that reappearance system for me. I was sixteen, I think... I can't remember," you didn't look up at Bob when you spoke, "they dropped me off somewhere in northern Russia. Away from civilization or any close cities. They haven't modulated the time yet. It wasn't where I was twenty-two minutes before. It was ten, it was twelve, it was four. It kept changing."

"I froze to death that night. Over and over and over again. Twelve times that night, I remember it. I just died and then came back into that cold. They didn't pull me out, they didn't stop it until the test was over and until they were satisfied," you continued, you could feel your fingers twitching in your lap.

Bob didn’t say anything. He just listened to every single word that left your lips.

"I started counting how long it took each time... Sometimes it was fast. Sometimes so slow that you even tried to kill yourself with your own hands.

Bob’s voice finally sounded out after a moment of quietness, "you were sixteen.”

"Maybe even fifteen."

"I kept waking up in the same fucking place,” you said, lowering your head even lower, "the same damn spot in the snow. I didn't even try to move because I knew I'd still be in that snow. That I'd die again."

"I think they then got bored. That car that drove past came back after... I don't know how many hours. But they came back and took me back to Sokovia and continued like everything was normal," you shook your head, still unbelieving what those freaks could do to a living person. A child.

"Nobody really cared,” you said with a deep breath, "I was a tool. My life was their system. A system to be tested... and when that system worked... They celebrated.”

"They celebrated your death..." Bob whispered, his brows furrowing, and you felt his knee moving up and down. A habit of his. Something he didn't even realize that he was doing. A motion that did not make a move past his mind. He blinked a few times, hard blinks that scrunched his whole face before he spoke again, "they just wanted you to survive the death."

"They didn’t want me to survive. They just wanted me to come back. There’s a difference, Bob."

Bob’s lips parted, then closed again. He didn't want to say anything, he didn't know what would actually leave his mouth. He ran his hand down his face and over his mouth, his palm warmer now.

He stared at you for a moment after that, his hands now trembling slightly. Then, without thinking, he reached forward and placed his hand back over yours. Right where it was before. You swallowed at the movement, expecting to be pulled back into that memory again.

But you didn't pull away, nor did he. But you were not pulled back into that memory. You stayed there. In your room, on the edge of your bed with Bob by your side.

He was there.

You were there.

You were both there. Together. Just like those two ghosts on your two cards.

Your eyes dropped to the two connected hands in your lap, then you lifted your eyes back up to his face. He was already watching you, like he was the whole time. Like his eyes were made for watching you.

Bob slowly turned your hand in his, slipping his fingers beneath yours so he could hold them properly. Hold you properly.

“I don’t think I know how to do anything else,” you admitted softly, looking down at your hands. Fingers laced together. You were talking about what you were supposed to be. Rather a reappearance system, taken from death every single time, a joke at life's rules. Not a person, holding hands with someone you care about. Like a normal person.

“You do,” he said with a soft tone, his fingers moving slightly in your hold, "you're doing it right now..."

Your eyes met his again as you lifted your head to look at him, "what am I doing?"

"Living."

Just the way he said that made you want to cry. You were living. You were really living. And you were doing it with someone beside you. Someone you've grown to care about. More than you could even imagine.

You blinked a few times as your eyes were full of him. Just then you looked down at your hands again. At those same hands that had been numb because of that snow, broken on many occasions, burned, maybe even cut off, you don't remember and you rather don't even want to. Those hands that had killed people, those that held a gun in them as the bullet took another person's life. Those same hands that choked people until their memories repeated in front of their eyes at their last moments. Too many moments where those hands weren’t yours. They belonged to them. The people who trained you. Those who sent you to die.

Your hands. They were cursed.

But now. Those same hands were holding another person's hands. They were holding warmth. Those same fingers that had held death before like it was nothing, were now curled gently around someone else’s.

They were holding what they needed. What you needed. They were holding love.

It wasn't just another person's hands. It wasn't just another person. Someone else. It was him. It was Bob. It was Robert.

You didn’t deserve it. You didn’t deserve any of this. But here it was. Almost like it was waiting for you. Like he was waiting for you.

“Living? I don’t know how to be a person... How to be a living human. I died so many times, Bob," you whispered the last sentence under your breath. It was pushing against you. Everything was pushing against you. Your own mind was crushing you and pushing you around like it was not you in your own head.

“You are one.”

“I don’t feel like it," you said back to the man.

“Doesn’t mean you’re not one."

You blinked at him and he blinked back at you, his fingers laced through yours like it was a missing puzzle to yours. His thumb moved and brushed gently over your skin.

“I don’t know how to feel human either,” Bob admitted to you softly. He had gone through much too. Not just the experiments in Malaysia, but also before. His life wasn't easy, and it wasn't happy either. Both of you had something to offer about your own experiences.

“Bob…” you whispered, unable to think of anything else to say at the moment. You stared at him the way you never did before, "I think I love you,” you said before your brain could stop you.

Bob froze at that and you saw how his eyes widened a little more and how his fingers stopped moving while they were laced with yours.

"You think... or do you know?" he asked. It was not in a way that he was trying to make fun of you or to tease you. But he was curious.

"I know I love you."

“I didn’t think anyone would ever say that to me,” he softly admitted his thoughts, his fingers once again moving in your grasp, his thumb brushing over the skin of your hand gently, "and I didn’t think I would ever say it back to someone.”

You both stared at each other for a moment, silence filling in the blanks. Then he spoke again, "but I do now," Bob continued, “I love you.”

And that was the first time you said those words out loud. When you both said those words out loud and actually meant them.

You had been together for a while now. You didn't have an official calling of yourselves as partners, you didn't say that he was your boyfriend.

But you were his.

And he was yours.

And it was painfully obvious that you were together, you were his other half and he was your other half. The missing piece in you. There were and anre shared moments like holding hands, kisses on skin and lips, laying next to each other in silence, and many other moments that brought you the comfort that you never had. But it was never quite like this. It was not how ordinary couples do it. How ordinary couples act.

Because you and Bob weren’t ordinary.

You are both not ordinary.

And you were not trying to be ordinary either.

You were two broken souls stitched together by similarities of pain and suffering that wrote itself over your scars. You had both tasted pain and stared into the eyes of death. But yet, somehow you were there. Together and alive. Trying to live again. Trying to know what it means to be living. It was complicated, you knew that. You both were not perfect, and it wasn't perfect. Nothing was ever perfect.

The feelings you shared were something you didn't know you needed. Those feelings were bruised, broken, but mutual. They were yours. It wasn't perfect. It was the piece for that empty space deep inside you that ached to not be alone. That single part in you that refused to be swallowed in the darkness and pain. That one that waited for the right moment.

For the right person.

And that right person was with you every day. Every day, he stayed there. And you did too.

He stood by you even when the world tilted again. And you stood by him when his world tilted again. When the darkness tried to pull him back. You stood together.

Even when someone somewhere thought it would be clever and so marketable to slap the New Avengers onto a box of cereal. On a box of Wheaties.

The bright orange packaging with bold white lettering. The very perfect heroic group photograph of the New Avengers. John on the left, then Yelena, Bucky with his hands on his hips, and Ava with her chin up in the middle, and then you and Alexei on the right. Alexei did a dramatic pose where he was fixing his gloves, his helmet on. You stood still with your head tilted, nothing major.

You went to get groceries with Alexei because he insisted on getting cereal for breakfast and you didn't have any. And you just realized why the old man really needed to get cereal. Specifically Wheaties. You stood in that grocery store aisle staring at the bright orange box. At around eight in the morning.

You were still tired, and sleep was still clinging to you from all sides. On the other hand, Alexei was beaming.

"Look at us!" he boomed so loudly that it made you want to wince, “Look a that Wheaties box! We look... we look glorious!"

You didn’t answer him. You just kept staring at the box in front of you.

"I need to get it. Get four," he grinned and grabbed four boxes of the same cereal, dropping them into the empty cart that hung in your hands. Now with four cereal boxes.

"Do you want... anything else?" you asked after a few seconds of staring at the box, turning your head towards the big Russian man to your right.

"Eh—I don't think so. You can take something, Twenty-Two... I'll be there," he muttered with that toothy grin of his. You nodded and moved around Alexei, walking towards the end of the aisle you were in.

You took two juice bottles. You didn't know what brand it was, what flavour it was, but you wanted to get something sweet for this morning. One was reddish-pink and the other one was yellow or rather golden in colour. So, probably an apple flavour. You then dropped both bottles into the cart that hung on your arm.

Then, you turned around and started to walk back towards that Russian man. But when you lifted your gaze from the tiled floor of the grocery store, you froze.

There was someone standing beside him.

A woman. She stood with a half-full cart in front of her, staring at the wall with cereal boxes. Alexei was beside her, speaking to her. Or at least trying to.

You stepped forward slowly. Observing the two people in front of you.

"Oh, look, Wheaties. Wow. With its toasted wholewheat flakes, wholegrain, vitamins," he started describing the cereal that he had in his hand, showing it to the dark-haired woman next to him, "give you energy. Good for kids, huh?"

"Okay..." she awkwardly laughed at that, staring at the man and the cereal box with confusion.

Alexei then slowly, almost robotically, raised the hand where the cereal box was and put it right beside his face. Giving out the most awkward smile ever. It almost looked scary. The woman reached for the cereal box and tried to rip it out of the man's hands and then got it out after a moment. Alexei's eyes widened as the woman ripped it from his hands.

"Thanks..." she awkwardly said, hiding her face behind the cardboard box of cereal and moving quickly away, pushing the cart in front of her and her back now turned towards the man.

"You're welcome," Alexei smiled from under his now very well-kept beard, not bushy like before. Now a mustache.

The woman quickly pushed her cart away and hurried from the aisle. Before she could leave, she dropped the cereal box nearby and left it there. The orange Wheaties box staring back at you and Alexei. Then she was gone.

"That's me on the box," yelled Alexei after the woman, standing still.

You stood just a step behind him, head tilted. He turned around and he finally noticed that you were standing there too. He sighed and shrugged his shoulders, "maybe she was allergic to Wheaties."

You let out a laugh and shook your head, “maybe you just scared her.”

“She scared me! Who takes Wheaties cereal out of a man’s hands like that? Huh?" he said, stepping around you and picking up the discarded box nearby at the end of the aisle. Looking down at the bright orange cardboard for a moment before putting it back from where he had taken it.

"Well—we have four. We can go back. I'm hungry," Alexei announced and patted you on the shoulder with that big grin of his. You chuckled and moved just a step behind him.

Later that day, at least an hour later, Alexei barged into the Watchtower like he had just fought with a dragon. He was very much alive at this hour of the morning, running around the Tower.

You walked behind him much quieter with two juice bottles tucked under your arm and a plastic bag in your hand where three boxes of cereal peeked out. One was in Alexei's arms already. When you got into the kitchen, you noticed the half-asleep others.

And Bob.

He was sitting alone by the kitchen island, looking down at his hands until he heard the loud noise coming from the doorway and then the big man running inside.

The second he saw you, his head tilted slightly. In a confusion. Then he glanced at the cereal box poking out from the bag in your hands and even bigger confusion laced his features. And you noticed that his hair was a mess, he didn't even try to tame those stubborn curls that adorned his head.

Alexei then practically threw the cereal box on the counter where Ava and Yelena were standing by and spun it to let the box face them, "look at this!"

Ava rolled her eyes and pushed herself away from the counter, moving to get something from the fridge nearby. John came closer, looking down at Alexei's orange cereal box, "at least I look good."

“Yes, Walker! That is us and we look good! Look, that is me!” he said, jabbing a finger at his photo, and then he started pointing at others," and then there is you and you and you too... Yelena! Lena! Look, you look like a hero! So cool."

Bob blinked slowly, slightly amused by the early morning scene about a box of cereal. You set the bag with three other boxes on the counter beside Alexei and dropped the two juice bottles in front of you and Bob.

One was for him and one for you.

You sat down on the stool beside him, close enough that your knees bumped beneath the counter as you dropped yourself onto the stool.

“You went to the grocery store with him?” he asked pretty quietly under his breath, staring at the man behind him who was showing off the cereal box and then at the two juice bottles in front of him, "at nine in the morning?”

"We went at eight," you corrected the man and then you shrugged, "he said we were out of cereal and that was the only thing he wanted to eat for breakfast."

"And you went with him because... he was hungry?" Bob leaned closer, his voice a bit and amusement at the edge of it.

You rolled your eyes, "I did not know that he only wanted to see his face on a cereal box.”

"And your face, Yelena! And hers, he pointed at Ava with a huge grin, his finger jabbing at the woman's face printed on the box, "and Walker's and Bucky’s... and Twenty-Two!” he jabbed his finger straight into your face printed on the box.

"Alexei!" sounded out Yelena's voice that made her father stop for a short moment, "why did you get four of them?"

She finally noticed three more identical cereal boxes on the counter beside Ava. She blinked a few times and then turned towards her father. The Russian man's grin widened even more and he gave the most innocent-looking shrug ever.

"Alexei... four boxes of the same cereal. The same exact box. With the same stupid picture. Of your stupid face!" Yelena yelled out, putting her hands on her face and dragging them down with a loud groan.

“Our faces,” he corrected his daughter, and shook with the orange box in his hands.

Bob’s knee brushed against your own knee under the kitchen island again. You didn’t pull away, you never did. Even when you thought that you might get pulled back into your nightmare.

Bob's head tilted slightly closer to you, his eyes on the two juice bottles in front of him, "you went with him. At eight in the morning. Voluntarily. Because he was craving cereal for the breakfast."

"I didn’t know I was going to someone who is an obsessed Wheaties cereal celebrity,” you replied with a chuckle, turning your head over your shoulder to look where Yelena and Alexei were arguing over the cereal boxes, "I thought we were just getting cereal and juice.”

"Oh..." he nodded a few times, his knee brushing against yours again, "can... can I have the apple one?" he nodded towards the golden-like colored bottle in front of him on the island table.

You smiled softly and touched the side of the golden-colored bottle, "of course. I got it for you, Bob,” you said, sliding it gently across the top of the island closer to him.

He leaned in before you could say or do anything else. His lips pressed a brief kiss to your temple and he whispered a quiet thank you against your skin there. His lips stayed there for a second before he slowly peeled away. He reached for the golden-colored bottle and opened it with a quiet twist. You then watched him take the first sip and see how his lips moved into a small, appreciative smile.

“You know what I like most about this?” he asked after he took another few sips from the bottle, he then clasped it back shut and put it on the spot where it was before.

You raised an eyebrow, slightly confused about what he meant, "...about the juice?”

“No!" he smiled again, shaking his head and making those stubborn untamed curls fall over his eyebrows, hiding his face, "I meant... this. Us. Sitting there together, nothing really happening. Just me and you."

"And us, Bob! Do not forget me and the others!" suddenly yelled out the Russian man from behind you. You chuckled and Bob's cheeks turned slightly pinkish, the curls hiding his eyes a bit.

It had been over a year of mornings like that.

Some mornings were nice.

Others were... bad. Like really bad.

Just like this one on a random Wednesday after an unexpected encounter on your mission.

You and Ava were on a mission, just the two of you. You were doing exactly what your assigned duties were and suddenly, out of nowhere in a flicker of a moment. You were dead. You heard Ava's yell before you completely blacked out and the old friend took you back into the death's arms. A terrific pain shot through your entire body, from legs to arms to your head. Everywhere at the same time. A pain so insufferable.

Then you woke up back to life. A tearing snap back into life, pulled from within the death's reach. You were standing just outside the building where the mission was.

You had died.

Again.

Someone, who you're pretty sure you know who it was, used the Pulse system. Out of nowhere and for no reason.

"Twenty-Two? What the hell just happened?" Ava's voice sounded from the comms, you shook your head and quickly brought your hand up to your mouth, your thumb pressing against your pointer so you could speak.

"Someone used the Pulse system."

"Fucking Valentina!" Ava roared into the comms. You then heard her exhale loudly, her breath shaking slightly, "oh my—you were dead, Twenty-Two. You died again! I saw—"

“I know,” you quickly jumped into her words, cutting the woman off, "I know. But I’m here now. Go finish the mission, please. My job is done already..." you breathed out, stepping away from the building. Staring at the walls and then up at the sky above.

“I’m heading back,” you told Ava after a moment of silence that stretched on uncomfortably. You were utterly confused as to why she had done this. And why does she still have the system with her? You need it gone. Gone from her hands.

"Kill her for me," Ava said into the comms and then clicked herself off, muting herself before continuing her job on the mission. It wasn't a major one. There was no killing, no people to hurt. Real nothing, just clean up.

And those words that Ava said, that's what you had on your mind when you stepped through the doors to Valentina's office.

"What the hell was that, Valentina?"

There she sat behind her table like nothing ever happened, Mel was standing beside her with a clipboard in her arms.

"What was what?" Valentina didn't even raise her head from where she was looking down at some files. You stepped forward and moved through the room right in front of the table.

You slammed your palms against the wood, which made the whole table rattle. Mel flinched at that, stepping back from the scene. Valentina raised her head slowly, her eyebrows raising. Her expression looked bored even.

“I asked you a question,” you said loudly, your palms digging into the wood of her table, "don't play stupid, Valentina. You know damn well what happened.”

Valentina’s fingers delicately pushed the files in front of her to the side and Mel was quick to grab them and hurry to leave. Valentina tilted her head, "well. Please do enlighten me, Twenty-Two—”

“You killed me.”

“I wasn’t in danger,” you growled at the woman angrily, "and you just decided to what? To fucking kill me? You wanted to test how it felt to push the button again? See me dead again? You wanted to see me dead again?”

"Oh, don’t forget what you are, Twenty-Two!" Valentina rolled her eyes, standing up from where she was sitting behind her table. She slowly came around her table, nearing closer to your angered form.

"Give me the Pulse."

Your voice was firm. A growl from behind your clenched teeth, a ripping sound from your throat.

"Valentina,” you repeated, sharper this time. Sharper than ever.

"Give me the fucking Pulse.”

This time, Valentina really did stop. That was when the smile on her face froze. She tilted her head in an almost childish manner. You stepped closer, eyes narrowing at her in anger, "you have the only fucking way to end my life. You decide when I live or die... And that ends now.”

"What? You think you can just take it and then—" Valentina leaned forward, crossing her arms over her chest and smiling at you.

"I think I can take back my will to live."

"Valentina. I’m not asking anymore," you said with finality to her. You did not say it, you nearly growled it at her. You were angry, you were livid. You felt maddened, this was not what you had expected this day to go.

Valentina then gave you that look of hers that told so many stories and thoughts. She didn’t speak, she just walked around the table once again, coming to where she was sitting before. She crouched slightly and then she opened a drawer just beneath the table, slowly reaching inside of it. She then pulled out a small black device.

She held it in her palm like it was nothing. But both of you knew it wasn’t nothing. It was life. It was death. It was control over both of these things. It was your life.

"Hand it over—" you said lowly, stretching your hand forward to her, towards the small device in her hands. Valentina's sly eyes flicked down at the device in her own hands and then up to your eyes.

"Listen. It's not that simple, you—" she starts to say, but you quickly cut her off.

"It is that simple. Hand it over," you said sharply at the woman, stepping even closer. Valentina took a step back. She was afraid.

She then slowly extended her arm. Then she held out the device. It was almost like she was daring you to take it. And you accepted the dare.

Your fingers wrapped around the small device that holds your life and death.

A quiet tension hung in the air after the device was finally in your hand. Valentina's eyes were locked onto yours, her eyes boring into yours like fire.

You didn’t say a word then, just stared at her. You then took a slow, deliberate step back, the device secure in your hand, "never fucking again, Valentina."

Valentina’s lips pressed into a thin line, "never... But you are still under my name, Twenty-Two."

You gave a short, curt nod. Not really caring about the choice of her words and her statement. You turned towards the doors where you came from and where Mel ran off. Without looking back at the woman, you stepped out of the room, the Pulse system in your palm. The door clicked shut behind you. Shutting away Valentina's right to your life and death. Now it was in your control.

Just like it was written before. Some days are bad. Really bad. Heavy like this one.

But not all days were like that. This was just one different and really bad day in a span of a few months. A few months that went by a little over a year.

Fourteen months to be exact.

During these fourteen months, everything had shifted, moved, and changed. Took other particular turns and paths. It was just all so differing from everything.

And today was no different.

The rest of the team had left that morning for a mission. Yelena, Ava, John, and Bucky. All of them went out on a mission that Valentina had assigned them. Before the mission, you spoke with John about how Bucky met up with Sam Wilson as the other man with the shield was not very happy that he had formed a new team. Sam Wilson was not very thrilled about it.

Now it was just you and Bob in the Tower... and Alexei too. He was somewhere else in the Tower.

You were curled into the plush of one of those oversized, probably not cheap, armchairs that were scattered all over the Tower. There are wide, wall-length windows stretching just in front of you, showing off the long skyline of the New York City. And you were also flush against Bob. Your hip to his hip, his shoulder to your shoulder, and your head was comfortably resting against the space between his jaw and collarbone as he quietly read one of his many books. His arm was looped around the back of your shoulders, his fingers resting against your arm.

The Creative Act: A Way of Being by Rick Rubin.

He had brought that book when he was staying with you at your apartment, along with other books and a very ridiculous Rolling Stone magazine.

You watched his blue eyes move slowly across the page, reading each word like he wanted it to be stitched up in his mind. He occasionally furrowed his brows, let the tip of his tongue peek out, or scrunched his nose while he read those words. You smiled at those small details, "you look like you’re enjoying it.”

“I am," he answered softly just as he turned another page of the book. He shifted just a little, adjusting the way his arm rested around your shoulders slightly.

Beyond the long and clean glass windows, New York City buzzed. Stretched endlessly and kept its loud character, but here in this little corner of the Tower, there was a stillness and comfort. A quiet space.

"Sometimes the mistakes are what makes a work great. Humanity breathes in mistakes."

Bob read out a line from the book. He just sat with the sentence. And you sat with it too. You tilted your head slightly up, your eyes moving from the book to his jaw, you softly murmured, “that's nice.”

“Rick Rubin writes like… I don’t know. I would say he writes like... like he’s forgiving things you didn’t even know you needed to be forgiven for? You get what I mean? He's just saying what we need to hear in this book," Bob's thumb held the place in the book, unmoving for a moment.

Your lips curved faintly, "you're saying that you need forgiving, Bob?”

“I think we all do," he replied softly, his eyes moving to another page, but nto reading as he spoke, “everyone needs forgiving. For something. Maybe their past selves. Bad days... things they've done," his eyes flickered in front of him, at the New York City's skyline. His mind moved to something that was hidden, the day the Void took over. When New York City fell into its shame and nightmare. When people ran; screamed and disappeared to face their own fears. When Bob wasn’t Bob, not entirely. Not himself. The dark part that lived deep inside him.

You didn’t speak for him, you didn't say anything now. You didn’t need to. The way his jaw tightened told you everything you had to know about what he was seeing. What he was thinking about. And what he wasn’t saying.

"Maybe the best idea is the one you're going to come up with this evening."

You read from a line on the opened page he was on. His gaze moved from the cityline to you, his eyes not even considering falling upon the book in his hands.

"I have an idea," you said, staring at the book and then up at the man beside you. His gaze already lingering on you like his eyes belonged just to you and you only:

"You do?" he softly murmured. Quiet and curious like he always was, "what's your idea?"

"The best one.”

And then you leaned in. Your lips found his in a gentle way. He didn’t pull back at all, his breath just hitched once and then he leaned back into you. His lips are familiar to you and your lips are familiar to him. His hand, the one that was resting along the back of your shoulders for the whole time, pulled you a little closer to him. There was no hunger in the kiss, there wasn't any desperation or hope of something more to add. It was just warmth and love. Just comfort between two people.

Then you slowly drew back, your lips parting from his. Both of your eyes opening as you leaned away, lips still warm. His eyes opened to meet yours, fluttering open.

“That’s…” he murmured quietly, a bit breathlessly, "a really, really good idea," he smiled when he said it.

Then you heard footsteps and the door to the main room turning open, the others were back from the mission most likely.

"But we are the Avengers. The government said so!" you heard Yelena muttering loudly from behind the doors and then they finally opened. Their voices were a contrast to the quietness that you and Bob had been holding a moment before. Everyone came through, looking nice as ever in their new suits that Valentina had given them.

"How does Sam Wilson not understand that?" Yelena continued, walking down to the main room, with others just behind her.

"Well, he does have the shield..." Bucky told the blonde woman in the front. John smirked from where he was beside the dark-haired woman and the blonde woman, "well, I got a shield too."

"It's not a shield," Bucky shot the man a glare, his eyes not even bothering to look down at that bent piece of metal on John's arm. You chuckled quietly from where you were sitting with Bob further away. The sound was low enough that only Bob really caught it. He smiled softly at you and then picked up the book again, reading the page you had read a line from for him.

"Yeah, it's a shield," John muttered stubbornly back at the metal-armed man.

"It's a shitty shield," Bucky said to the other super-soldier. The man shot those words at him without any second thought.

"It's a great shield, Bucky!" John's voice grew louder as he spoke about his bent metal piece. Almost barking out at the other super-soldier.

They all made their way a few steps down into the sunken lounge of the main room in Tower. It was sleek and modern. Like every other room in the Tower. Too modern-looking with too many buttons.

"Okay, if he puts together a team... and then the team is called the Avengers, who are the real Avengers?" Yelena was still on her feet, and the others were already scattered around the space on the couches around. She was pacing around with her hands flying in the air, gesturing.

John flopped onto one of the couches in the space down and threw his legs up on the table like it was his own living room and no one else's, "well, that’s the question the Internet has been asking and judging by the very nasty memes that I’ve read... they don’t think that it’s us."

"Weren’t you going to talk to him?" Yelena turned towards the other super-soldier in the room, pointing her hand at him. Her eyes narrowed at the metal-armed man.

Bucky rolled his head and nodded with a loud exhale through his nose, "I already did."

"And?" Yelena asked, moving closer to him

It went poorly. Bucky didn't even look up before he flatly answered, "it went poorly."

"I don’t know what any of these buttons do... It’s unbelievable they didn’t mark any of them," John started pushing the many buttons embedded on the armrest of the couch he was so comfortably sitting on. Leaning in slightly to see if there really are not no markings. There indeed are none. Just plain, identical-looking buttons.

"You know he’s filed for copyright of the name?" Yelena said as she finally sat down on the nearest free space on the couches around. Leaning slightly forward to sit comfortably.

"Did he?" Bucky made a face at that. His own best friend did not tell him that.

"We’re losing credibility," Yelena remarked again. The dark-haired woman decided to join the conversation as well, "which we had very little to begin with..." she shrugged from where she was sitting.

"And now there’s this huge space crisis and no one’s telling us about it..." Yelena groaned and gestured vaguely into the air with her hand.

"We’re running out of space? It’s impossible. This building is... enormous," John moved his legs on where they were propped up on the table, staring around the main room to see where the space crisis supposedly was. Looking genuinely confused.

Yelena slowly turned toward him. She didn't speak at all, didn't throw any remark at him. She just stared with disbelief.

"What?" John asked with confusion.

"Outer space!" Yelena shouted at the man, pointing at the ceiling above as if the space was visible through it somehow. Furiously pointing up and up.

"Outer space..." John then did a big nod and repeated what the blonde woman had said. Finally getting what she meant.

You chuckled again from where you were curled up against Bob, "oh, he cannot be serious,” you murmured quietly for only Bob to hear, shaking your head.

Bob didn’t laugh, not exactly. But there was a faint smile on his lips. His gaze was on the book in his hands, his fingers gently moving over your arm and shoulder.

"Run a threat analysis. I want a full report," Yelena lifted a small tablet from the table and put it near her mouth, speaking to it to get the analysis out.

"Hello, team!" Alexei suddenly announced himself as he came into the room. Finally showing himself from where he was hiding the whole day. He stretched his hands out to show himself off.

"...The hell are you wearing?" Bucky squinted at the other super-soldier. Wrinkling his nose at the sight of the colorful jumpsuit that Alexei was currently sporting like a proud man.

"I heard about Sam Wilson. He’s dumb, litigious man, but I am smart man. I've a smart solve!" he grinned and pointed at the ridiculous jumpsuit that he's wearing.

"Avenge—z... Avengerz. With a Z, there is no copyright," he tapped the letter Z on his chest. It looked like the last letter was glued or stitched into the original jumpsuit that had the letter S. Splashed across his chest was the name, New Avengerz.

"No," his daughter shook her head and looked down at the tablet in her hands that was currently running the analysis.

"So soft. Feel like the bottom of a... baby seal!" he stretched his arms in front of him proudly, showing off the soft material of the jumpsuit. He grinned and stepped closer to his daughter. Outstretching his arm to her, so she could try out the soft material of the suit, "you want to… you want to savor that?"

"I don’t want to touch a baby seal butt," Yelena said flatly and did not even look up from the device in her hands, ignoring her father's arm next to her face.

"I have one for you," Alexei recalled and pointed somewhere behind himself with his finger.

"I don't want it," the blonde woman dismissed her father's arm next quickly without looking up from the tablet in her hands.

"I have one for you," he pointed at Bucky and the metal-armed man was quick to dismissively wave at him, not wanting to own a merchandise jumpsuit that felt like a butt of a baby beal.

"I got you one!" the Russian man turned his attention to the dark-haired woman and pointed his finger at her. She was quick to throw a thumbs-up and nod to let him know she heard him.

"I got you one!" Alexei turned towards the man with a taco-like shield and John was kind enough to give him a fake thankful smile.

"And for you, Bob! In the corner hiding, pretending to read the book!" Alexei's voice rose slightly as he pointed at where you and Bob were further away from them, sitting hidden on one of the armchair couches. You and Bob were not hiding. You were simply at a safe distance from the chaos happening near Alexei and his uncopyrighted jumpsuits.

"And for you, Twenty-Two cuddling there with him! I have one for you too!" Alexei's eyes lit up from behind his glasses when he noticed you with Bob.

"We’re all matching! All part of the super team!" Alexei declared loudly, grinning from an ear to ear. He was so excited about these jumpsuits, which nearly all of them, most likely, won't be worn by the others.

Then, a sudden and sharp alarm blared through the main room and then a sterile mechanical, female voice sounded out through the speakers, "unidentified craft entering orbit.”

Yelena’s head snapped up, her brows knitting together at the announcement that echoed around. She raised the tablet back up and looked at the screen.

From beside her, Bucky stepped closer. He sat down next to her, eyes already trained on the screen over her shoulder, "you should get a satellite image.”

Yelena looked up at the man next to her and nodded, raising the tablet up to her mouth, "uh... get satellite image."

From beside her, Bucky leaned closer again and helped her again, "and fire up..."

Yelena turned her head slightly to give him a look for a brief second before she was already saying it to the tablet which was angled to her mouth, "and fire… I was gonna say that,” she muttered under her breath, "and fire up the jets,” she added to it.

"We wouldn’t need to fire up the jets if we had a Sentry... who could fly..." Alexei added, turning around and staring at the man who was now awkwardly shuffling on the armchair couch next to you. Holding the book between his fingers, not reading anymore as he had mentioned. Or a part of him was mentioned.

"I know... I'm sorry, I'm sorry, guys..." Bob gestured with his hand in the air as he said that, the book he was reading falling onto his lap, "can't be the Sentry without the... you know, other s—side."

Alexei stared at him. Unimpressed.

"I did the dishes though!" Bob then added, a smile filtering up on his face. He did only half of them, the other half was cleaned by you. But he also broke two plates while he was cleaning them. But thankfully, none of your other teammates who usually sit in the kitchen have noticed that two plates were missing.

"And what are we gonna do? Just ride Bob into the sky?" John asked from where he had his legs kicked up on the table in front of him. The bent shield still on his arm.

"Ahh... Yes! Can you imagine... Red Guardian riding on top of Sentry, cresting over the clouds?" Alexei started to imagine the best way of travelling, right on top of Bob. Bucky was shaking his head, disbelieving that this was the team he was in.

Yelena was looking at her father, disbelief drawn on her face, "This is why we are Avengers with a Z."

Before Alexei could defend himself, the mechanical voice interrupted everyone.

"Satellite image populating. Extradimensional ship entering the atmosphere," the mechanical, female voice announced with a loud noise.

"Extradimensional? What does that mean?" Alexei asked as everyone in the main room, apart from you and Bob, walked up the few steps to the screen which flickered to life, showing a footage of a ship in the space. A huge ship. Its scale impossible to estimate, but it was breathtaking.

"It’s a… it’s a cool ship," John muttered slowly as the live footage of the spaceship showed up on the screen before him. All of them leaned forward toward the screen, squinting at the footage. All eyes were locked on the screen, the extradimensional spaceship turning slowly around until a bright logo appeared on the screen.

A giant logo with the number four just in the middle of the circle. Centered and painted in blue.

“What is... that?" you muttered from where you were looking at it from a distance. You pushed yourself carefully off Bob. Taking in the very surreal footage just on the screen before you. Bob quickly slipped a bookmark in between the pages of his book while you finally got onto your feet.

You jogged swiftly across the room towards where the others had already gathered in front of the huge screen. You slipped in just beside John, who was already squinting at the projection with narrowed eyes. Looking at something so out of this world.

Bob moved quietly behind you, his chest nearly pressing against your back. You didn’t need to turn around to see that he was watching the screen just as intently as you were just now.

It was not just a spaceship. It was a presence. There was someone. And whatever it's planning on bringing, it definitely won't be easy. It won't be simple. It is coming with a purpose, you can feel it.

This wasn’t the end of something. This wasn't the end you thought would come. It was only the beginning.

And more awaits you.

hope you liked this! if yes, comments and feedback are very appreciated ! <3

100k words later, ten chapters out of ten. the whole thunderbolts* movie + twenty-two !!

this was so fun to write! if you got to the end there—thank you so much for reading! it means the entire world to me. 22 and bob i love uuu and readers i love u more <3 see u at the next fic wohooo

TAGLIST: @qardasngan , @one17 , @ren-ni , @werewolfgirl1995 , @mysticdelusionengineer , @lauryn2theelectricboogaloo , @mewmew222 , @badbishsblog , @lovely-foxes-exe , @funkyfable , @melvin333 , @sunflower-0180 , @witch-of-letters , @articel1967 , @kazamys , @ch-3-rry , @blackstabbath6 , @buckvoidsyy

[jjonqseob]

spicy dating mingi headcannons

pairing: bf!mingi & f!reader

genre: smut

tws: this is pure smut (i'm too lazy to name everything)

author's note: i'm so, sooo sorry for the wait. also, i got a little bit too carried away with this one... but i hope this is what you were hoping for, anon! btw, all this came out of my head, i'm so sorry i just love this man so fucking much. and as always, ignore if there are any grammatical errors or i might die fr. eng is not my first language. MDNI!!!

i think every time would be like the first, he'd say something like "stop laughing! you're making me even more nervous!" because despite being a couple for so long, he always gets nervous at first, but then... yeah…

he's a damn switch (u can't change my mind ab this). do you want to top him? of course. do you want him to top you? of course. but he would enjoy being a subby more... although he might never admit it.

it's incredible how easily he gets turned on and fucking hard. did you kiss him on the neck? he's already getting a damn boner, and don't even get me started when you sit on his lap. it might be a tender moment, but if you move, even just a little bit, you'd feel a bulge underneath you.

he LOVES you touching him. your hands feel so good, no matter the context. he just loves how your little hands feel on him. are you walking hand in hand? are your hands in his hair while you kiss him? you're sitting on the couch, and you let him lie on your lap? he just loves your touch and having you close.

i also feel like he'd always be open to trying new things with you, both because he loves you and out of simple curiosity. besides, who knows? maybe he'll discover something new he likes.

dirty talk. he's SO into that it's embarrassing. If you're on your knees in front of him, looking at him with those big, pleading eyes, he won't be able to help but say, "open up. let's see how much can fit today that pretty mouth of yours." if he's eating your pussy, he won't stop saying how delicious you taste, how beautiful all the cute sounds are that come out of your lips while his tongue works rigorously on your needy cunt. and if he's fucking you, my god, he'd never keep quiet, he'd always point out how good it feels like your insides squeeze his cock with every thrust, how wet you always are for him, how well you take every inch like the good, pretty good girl you are.

this man moans a lot. don't ask me why, but i know. it you give him a short, little kiss, he'll let out a small moan. if you pull his hair while you're kissing? yes, a moan. and don't even talk about when he eats your pussy. he'd moan more than you.

and the last point brings me to this next point, we all know mingi is a pussy eater, i even feel like it's kind of obvious (he told me himself cause we're besties, duh) he just loves watching you squirm when he uses his mouth on you, you squeezing his head with your legs, the way you pull his hair, burying his face even more between your legs, the way you cum in his mouth, the mess you made on his face… and of course he would swallow everything.

this man is SOOOO into recording or taking pics of both of you while: you jerking him off, you give him a blowjob, you ride him, and recording himself while he eats you out? he's definitely gonna jerk off with that damn video while he's on tour (*cof, cof* link…)

he's so needy… but like, always. i feel like sometimes he wouldn't even notice. like when he rubs his morning boner against your ass while he's half asleep, or when a simple kiss turns into a shower of moans (obviously from him), he just enjoys it too much, but can you blame him? he's just so in love, and he loves you so much, and you turn him on so damn easily.

slaps. yeah… but he likes to receive them, and if you're riding him? good lord, do you want to kill him? you, riding him so well while he looks at you with that silly, lovelorn, aroused expression before feeling a soft, warm hand hit his cheek, followed by your lips against his... one day, you'll kill him. ALSO, maybe he's also into choking… receiving and giving, but more than receiving cause he's a damn freak.

loves LOVES watching his cock slide into your pussy, how you take every inch so well, how your ass bounces with every thrust, he could cum just watching you.

he's… quite big, and he knows it, and when he sees how your eyes get watery from trying to take his cock completely down your throat it makes him feel dizzy, you just drive him crazy in the best way possible.

he likes creampies. i mean, watching your pussy drip with his cum just makes him want to fuck you until you're completely filled, but something about cumming all over your ass cheeks just makes him... tingle. your ass was already perfect, bouncing and colliding against him with every thrust, and now it's painted white because of him? you really want him to shove your face into the mattress again and fuck you doggy style until you're shaking, don't you?

one word, mirrors. we all know that mingi loves watching himself, but watching himself fuck you from behind? watching every expression you make, how your tits bounce with every thrust, how you hold on to the sink, trying to stay standing, and he can only see that if he looks in the mirror, but when he looks down, yeah, your cute, perfect ass bouncing as his cock slides inside you. and if it so happens that you both end up in a motel, he'd make sure you have one of those rooms that have mirrors on the ceiling, on the sides, everywhere, he just loves to see himself, and what he loves more than seeing himself, is seeing you.

and he's the king of aftercare, no matter if he was rough with you, or if you were rough with him, mingi will always ask you how it was, if he did well, if you felt good, and then he would clean you up with all the love in the world, or even carry you to the bathroom for a relaxing bath together, and of course he would offer to soap your back, but his hands would always go... elsewhere.

[whimsyvixen]

Have you seen invincible?? Omni-man seems like your type

You know, I think you're right. Him calling his wife a pet had the devious side of me acting up.

[syofrelief]

soap who's got a little crush in the intel office

Soap, who isn't processing a word out of your mouth as you explain the complicated geometrics of this base, how normal detonations wouldn't would because of something longwinded and boring but goddamn if you didn't have the cutest face he'd seen in a while.

Soap, who sheepishly had to walk his distracted ass back to your office to ask if you could please jus' explain it one more time, i wasnae payin' any attention last time, muttering an excuse about a migraine. You didn't say anything about the demolitions expert being distracted at a demolitions debrief, welcoming him in with an eye roll.

Soap, who'd get distracted every meeting going forward if you could pull him into your office, sit so close he could smell your shampoo, and explain to him patiently the objective and geography and the coordinates and hell, you could explain year 8 geometry and he'd hang on every word. Your office was nice, cool and cozy. He didn't like group debriefs; he needed to stand up and pace or fidget with his velcro vest, or ask too many questions than Price thought appropriate.

But you used better explanations, sat through his often stuttered questions, and let him play with the pencil holder on your desk while you spoke.

Ghost had taken to finding him there in moments of downtime, listening doe-eyed to you murmur about a mission that didn't even belong to them. He snorted. Soap darted to his feet, stumbling over the rug.

"I...I was..." he gestured vaguely, neck purpling with embarrassment. You swiveled in your chair, grinning.

"Hi, Lieutenant," you greeted Simon, waving pleasantly. "Johnny just wanted some alone time."

Soap gaped at you because that's how you decided to phrase that?? In front of his LT?

Not even addressing the elephant in Simon's mind - Johnny. You called him Johnny.

"Price needs ya," Ghost said gruffly, disappearing down the hall.

Your cackling echoed in Soap's ears as he followed grumpily. "Sweet boy," you murmured, going back to your notes.

It was another late night of Soap's pestering. Please, bonnie, jus' need ye to explain tha' again, my ears, ye ken, all screwy from the bombs n' shite. You raised your eyebrows, surprised that, again, a detonations expert needed review on C4 placement for a relatively low-stakes assignment.

He was sitting too close again, knee brushing yours. The low lamplight shone in his dilated eyes, baby blues wide with adoration. The overt affection in his gaze made your cheeks burn a bit, until you noticed the circles growing beneath them. Soap was exhausted; the lines of his stout shoulders sagging into your cushy armchair.

"Johnny," you said when he asked another frantically inane question. He clamped his mouth shut at your tone, hands yanking on the pockets of his pants. You chose your words carefully.

"Are you sleeping?"

He blinked. "Eh? I'm- what sorta question- Yeah. Course," he blustered, puffing up a bit.

Your chin tilted. "Y'sure?"

Johnny nodded, but you saw the falter in his gaze. The bags were prominent now. Deep purple beneath his dark lashes.

"Why don't you head off to bed," you said quietly. "It's late. You've got early rollout tomorrow." You handed him a manila folder of notes to review and a tired smile. He stood quietly, head heavy with a sorrow you hadn't seen before.

You didn't see him for a while after that. It made you a lot more productive without the nagging or constant whassat? whassat? whassat? aimed at every piece of intel you had spread on your desk. But the armchair looked lonely, and you missed his cheeky teasing.

A knock startled you from your pondering. Eyes flicking to the clock - 1:00 - you frowned, opening the door a sliver.

A mountain of grime and sweat pulled you into a hug, muffling your surprised squawk.

"Johnny?"

He sluggishly dragged you into your office, finally releasing you when the door was shut. You struggled to regain your footing. Head reeling, you scaned him for injury. But...he was in pajamas?

"What..."

"Went...running," he said hoarsely. You nodded slowly, piecing apart the lie. Barefoot, dirty hems. Night terrors, probably, coupled with an unlocked door. It made your heart ache.

"Sit...sit down, Soap," you whispered, coaxing him by the shoulder. A meaty hand clapped over yours and were alarmed by the intensity in his bloodshot eyes. Too crystal to be drunk but too crazed to be...here.

"Sit, Johnny," you said, firmer. He sank shakily, keeping his eyes on yours.

"Nay...nay, nay, I can explain, I jus'...had a question a-about tha last thingie you were...you were..." he trailed off, seeing the pity in your face. "Don' look a' me like that," he muttered.

A moment as your hand shifted down his arm, fingers still laced with his. A gentle motion, petting the gooseflesh rippling over his musculature.

"You wanna hear somethin' funny?"

His eyes shot to yours, pleading. Johnny scooted closer, almost falling into your lap. A reminiscent smile flitted over your face as you continued to stroke him.

"A few recruits, while you were gone, got ahold of one of those mop buckets. Big yellow one. Well," you cleared your throat, muffling a giggle. "Well, one of the pipes burst upstairs, and the whole hallway flooded. So one of them got the great idea to make a slip'n'slide..."

You giggled at your retelling, quietly imitating the characters in your little tale. Johnny had edged closer, head inches from your chest. Not pausing your whispering, you pulled him to you. He draped over you, absolutely massive over your tiny desk chair.

It was unbelievably uncomfortable. Your legs were numb in two seconds.

The story was over, but Soap squeezed your waist the moment you had the thought of moving. "Grabbin' a pencil," you soothed, patting his sweaty head. His heart was pattering slower now, breaths coming easier.

"Can...can ye explain it again?" His forearms tightened a bit, relaxing when you stroked his hair.

You grinned. "Yeah, Johnny. Sure I can."

not as good as i wanted it but it was cute in my head.

pt 2 ish

[nezuscribe]

previous part

fake dating your childhood best friend (and person you've been in love with for just as long) gojo was as terrible and amazing as you thought it would be.

terrible because in private he still see's you as his best friend and plots on how to get with the girl of his dreams while trying to figure out how you and geto can become a pair.

it's awful. there's no sugar coating the emotional turmoil you're going through.

but in public? it's perfect.

when the two of you are out with friends gojo always makes sure to have one hand on you at all times. either on your knee, around your shoulder or waist, playing with the hem of your shirt. he plants soft kisses to your cheek or forehead when he thinks you can't see, pinches your nose in a loving manner.

other times when you're all hanging out gojo tells animated stories from over the years, sharing experiences you had totally forgotten and didn't realize he remembered. he played the part of a doting and loving boyfriend, you'd give him that much.

everybody cooes and says how perfect the two of you look together. gojo smiles, saying that he only looks perfect because you look perfect.

but you could see the longing glances he gave to suki, the way he'd watch her when he was so sure nobody else was looking. you could feel a bit of your heart sink, knowing that at the end of the day, you're the only one hurting yourself by lying to everybody around you, including gojo.

mind-fucking torture this is.

but sometimes, in brief moments, it feels like even he forgets what this is all for.

like that one time when you were telling him in private about your dating history, or lack thereof, you could've sworn he almost hadn't heard you properly with the look of utter shock at the confession.

okay, so yeah, maybe he does have a right to be a little shocked. it's not like you had been totally honest about this either, but who could blame you? when you were a teen gojo and geto were off on dates and flings and you felt left out, feeling the need to make up some white lies about going on little coffee dates or whatever. nothing big, nothing crazy. just so that they wouldn't think you were a total loser.

but over the years, you just never told him the truth, seeing no need. you were in college now, with no time to date, regardless. and sure, this confession slipped when you were insanely tired and needed something to fill the silence of the drive back home.

"what do you mean you've never been on a date? you've been o-on countless dates? like - like that one with the guy and his weird beard? or...or talkative tom?" he spews, bewildered, looking at you briefly before looking back to the road, his hand shifting on the steering wheel.

you scoff, rolling your eyes.

"not countless dates, just," you shrug, a little embarrassed, feeling heat climb to your cheeks for even bringing up this mortifying detail., feeling even worse knowing that you couldn't even blame this blunder on being drunk, you were just talkative, "when we were younger you and suguru were always going out 'n i felt...weird, i don't know," you stammer, shifting awkwardly in your seat as you confess.

"weird?" the word nearly sounds like a laugh and gasp in one, and your cheeks burn even more.

god, it would hurt less mentally if a wormhole opening up and ate you.

you smack his arm, your head falling into your hands as street lamps illuminated the side of your face as you begin rocking backwards in regret and shame. in moments like this you remembered how much of a nuisance he could really be, a little gnat in your ear.

gojo looks at you again, turning the street corner as he sighs, shaking his head.

he never wanted you to feel weird around him.

"i only made up those two, two, dates 'toru," you mutter, groaning out loud as your head thumped back on the headrest, the familiar row of homes coming into your line of vision as you prayed for this to end faster, "and you remembered both of them. that's not my fault."

gojo snorts, raising his hand as he shoves your head lightly.

"i remember everything you say," he says playfully, "the good, the bad and the ugly," he remarks, the car slowing down as he nears your house.

you look out the window, nearly ready to jump out as your hands fumble with the seatbelt. you're sure you've done enough damage for the week, probably even the month, but gojo doesn't seem to mind. in fact, you feel the warmth of his hand engulfing yours, stopping you from undoing your seatbelt and bolting.

you glance over at him, ready to smack his hand away, but the teasing look on his face has simmered a bit. simmered enough to remind you just how ridiculously good-looking he is with his bright eyes and rosy cheeks.

"look...i can't, in good conscious, be letting you walk around surviving on fake date stories," he says, putting a hand across his chest as if he were taking a vow.

isn't this just one big fake dating story? you almost say out loud.

"it's not 'gonna kill you," you tell him, maybe a little too harshly, "not like it's gonna kill me," you mutter the last part under your breath, looking away from his intense stare.

he purses his lip in annoyance, flicking your forehead as you groan in pain.

gojo pauses, taking a breath before he continues. your brow raises in curiosity.

"i'll pick you up tomorrow for a real date," he finally tells you.

there's another pause, your eyes searching his for the punchline. you give up after a few seconds of taking in his determined gaze, rolling your eyes as you unlock the passenger door, gathering your bag and things as you almost step out if not for him tugging you back in.

"i'm serious," gojo says, "six o' clock, wear something nice."

your brows furrow again.

"but," you laugh, startled, "but...we're not seeing anybody tomorrow? there's no need for a fake date if nobody can't see?"

gojo smiles, shrugging as his thumb rubs absentmindedly up and down your wrist.

"so?"

you look at him, waiting for him to finish that sentence.

"soooo," he drawls out, "so what? if my best friend hasn't been on a proper date, then i think it's only right i fix that. it's in my duties as the best friend and her new fake boyfriend."

there it is again.

you shake your head, and he can tell you're getting ready to come up with a reason as to why you can't go but he shushes you, shaking his head defiantly.

"done deal. six o' clock."

you stare at him.

"fine," he pretends to be annoyed, "i'll bring you something nice to wear too, i guess."

he's teasing you, not knowing that this was all you've ever wanted since you were a kid. fake or not, you try not to let reality slice your heart and serve it for tomorrow night's dinner.

try not to let the fact that fake dating gojo means that he's going to take you out, real or not.

[dollfacefantasy]

bucky barnes x fem!reader cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, public sex, boss/employee relationship a/n: i just watched brave new world so <3333 this is based on the request i am going to answer in a few moments.

1:30 pm, and a quick call to your desk. "sweetheart, could you come in here for a minute?" his voice crackled through the receiver. you knew what that meant.

not even five minutes later, he had you bent over the dark mahogany in his office, your pencil skirt hiked up around your hips, the pretty pink panties you'd worn for him pushed to the side so his cock could pump in and out of you with ease.

"fuck, mr. barnes," you whimpered, taking your bottom lip between your teeth. your hands slid as they pressed down on scattered papers beneath them.

a chuckle came from behind you. his hands gave your hips a squeeze. you could feel the mechanical flex on your left side.

"what'd i tell you about calling me that?" he asked.

"that- mmm- that i should only do it at work, but- ah!" you tried to explain, cut off by his tip brushing against a sensitive spot inside you. gripping the edge of the desk, you steeled yourself to finish your sentence. "but, technically, we're still at work, sir."

you heard him hum in acknowledgement, and in your mind, you could all but see that cute little smirk on his face. the one reserved for you. even when you were just his secretary, you were still the only one who got to see it so freely.

"smart girl. i guess that is true," he said, completing his statement with a particularly hard thrust.

you squeaked at the impact, and your eyes rolled back. despite your own noise, you were just happy the desk wasn't budging an inch under his momentum.

"but since we're 'at work,' you also know that you're supposed to be quiet," he said, his voice much lower and much closer to your ear. you could feel the crisp fabric of his suit against your back. his tie feathered along your side, causing you to squirm back on him.

"i- i am," you stammered.

"yeah? you think this is quiet? quiet enough that if anybody walked by those doors, they wouldn't hear you whining for me?" he whispered.

words of defense didn't come to mind. instead, you gasped as he nuzzled into your neck, planting open-mouthed kisses along your throat. your walls clamped around his length. you squeezed him, sucked him in with everything you had, your body wordlessly crying more, more, more.

"we wouldn't want any rumors going around, would we? people already talk about how cute my little secretary is, how she chases after me with stars in her eyes," he practically cooed. "they warn me about you, you know. i don't wanna get caught up in a scandal after all."

your knees almost give out beneath you, but being squished between him and the desk keeps you in place.

you knew what he was saying was true. people did talk about you and him. speculated if your relationship went beyond what was appropriate for a representative and his secretary. but fuck, you didn't care. not while sitting at your desk during the day or laying in his arms at night, and you certainly didn't care when he was fucking you like you'd been made just for him.

"they won't," you finally answered, words closer to a babble now. "they won't hear. only you can hear."

his lips curled into a smile against your skin. "that's right, baby. only me," he said with a soft peck to your cheek.

the moment of tenderness was brief though. his mechanical hand slid around to grasp your throat, giving him more leverage to drill into you.

at this point, you were right on the edge. he had settled into a rhythm that stroked you just right every time. your release was coming closer and closer every second.

you sucked in another ragged breath, unable to get the words out to articulate what you felt inside. but that was ok. he knew all your tells. he recognized the shaky legs and grabby hands and pulsing grip of your cunt.

his hand that wasn't on your neck wrapped around your body and snaked its way between your legs. the warm flesh of his fingertips swirled over your clit, rubbed back and forth in rapid stripes to give you the final push.

"i know, baby. i know it feels so good, and i know you're gonna be a good girl and stay quiet. so cum for me," he murmured.

just in case, you covered your mouth with your palm. your body spasmed as you let release wash over you. to your surprise, you did remain quiet for the most part. only a few little sounds of ecstasy escaped your lips for your hand to muffle.

he groaned right into your ear, the noise quiet to the entire world except for you. it was only a matter of seconds before you felt the familiar burst of warmth and the uneven jolts of his hips against your backside.

once the two of you had both finished, you each took a few seconds to catch your breath. you couldn't take too long however because his lunch break was ending, and it wouldn't take a genius to figure out the both of you were doing a little more than going over briefings in here.

he eased out of you and then helped you clean up a bit. your panties fell back into place while your skirt unbunched to cover up your thighs again. you glanced in the mirror on the wall to make sure your makeup hadn't smudged. with a tug of your blazer, you were ready to go back out there.

"not even gonna give me a kiss before you go?" he asked.

that brought a little smile to your face. when you turned to him once again, he was put back together too. no remnants of you on his suit, all the buttons together again, every strand of his hair in place.

you leaned in for what was supposed to be a quick peck. but his arm looped around your waist and held you close for a few moments longer. your shy eyes connected with his when he finally let you pull away. he gave you a pat on the ass as you went to walk away.

"i'll see you after work, mr. barnes," you said with a little laugh.

[soulcaketuesday]

Five of Swords 🗡️

In a show about people being trapped in self made coffins, Namami is one of the only characters that's able to step away when she realises how harmful the system is to her. This card isn't about that, though! Five of Swords is about trying to win an unnecessary battle, inevitable defeat, and trying really hard to stab a classmate. Don't mind the bloody nose, the scraped knee, the smudged mascara - she's going to keep fighting, longer than she needs to, no matter who gets hurt, as long as the sun keeps shining down just on her like a spotlight.

one of my pieces from a now cancelled zine. the other piece is here, go look at this kid having a chill day. drafts and notes below

NANAMI MY GIRL MY SILLY GOOSE i was sooo happy to get assigned a card about her and i REALLY wanted to do the concept justice!! but i was fighting with this the entire time lmao!! i think her pose and expression changed a thousand times and i couldn't figure out where to place the swords or what to do with the sky, i kept trying to switch to a more painterly style bc i hated the lines and ended up just wasting time.... nightmare!!! well anyway hope u like it 💁‍♂️

some things:

she's wearing anthy's rose bride tiara and the earrings that were given to utena by akio, which can only mean good things for her. she's winning the fight. she's gonna win it. (the sillhouette of her shorts is similar to tsuwabuki's middle school uniform shorts in an effort to make her look more childish)

touga was originally supposed to be lurking in the background but he was messing with the composition so i deleted him. then his sword was supposed to be impaling nanami's rose but i didn't like it there so i moved it. despite everything he's still in the scene but only if you have eyes and hearts that believe..........

the yellow sun and white clouds could be an egg 🍳 it could be 🥚 take my hand...

i think the third thumbnail was actually my first attempt but i didn't like it very much... i liked the first one but wasnt sold on it tbh!! i still like the imagery of the tangled swords weighing her down and the little cuts and bandages on her hand, but idkkkkk. i just wouldn't have made it work lol so i guess i went for the most complicated one 💁‍♂️

[lxnarphase]

━━ ❝ guide you all the way down, be your nightlight ❞

up to the challenge : ⌞no nut november⌝ edition [ pt 1 - pt 3 - pt 4 ]

☾₊‧⁺...ft. : n. kento + h. hiromi + k. choso

☾₊‧⁺...cw: fingerfucking, squirting, dirty talking, begging, deep throating condom breaking, excessive cum, riding, kento being lovey-dovey, hiromi nearly loses his mind, choso being whiny and desperate, reader is on birth control but choso is just worried about the mess of no condom, choso's part is very long and indulgent

☾₊‧⁺...synopsis : to the anon who requests choso and nanami, i hope you don't mind i threw higuruma in here too, i really wanted to include him since he gives the vibes of being in the middle between nanami and choso 🖤 thank you so much for the request !

✧ n. kento lasts : entire month

you were the one to bring this up to kento, mentioning in passing that gojo wouldn't shut up about this 'challenge' he and geto were going to participate in. with a hum, he asks if you were trying to suggest something to him. if you wanted him to try this little 'game,' he wouldn't mind...as long as you'd let him pamper you all month. and he really does; he's breezing through each day as though nothing is wrong. kento's still as sweet as ever, constantly cuddling you, taking you out on formal dates, and telling you how much he loves you. he manages well the entire November, only showing weakness whenever you try to tease him. but of course, if you're going to try and break his streak, he just spreads you out on the bed, fingerfucking you until you squirt all over his hand. eventually, the whole month flies by, and kento genuinely feels relief that it's over. but he's a little shocked when he comes home, and you're dressed in a pretty, yellow matching lingerie set as you drag him into the bedroom that's filled with candles and roses...he pampered you all month, now it was his turn to be pampered.

"kentooo~" having you between his legs like this, cooing his name so sweetly, causes a shiver to shoot down his spine. you look so adorable, so gorgeous on your knees and pressing kisses up and down his length. those pretty kiss marks would be burned into his mind for weeks. but what makes his stomach flip the most? is that look in your eye. that needy, desperate, loving gaze...it made his cock twitch in your hands. "darling, please," he sighs, one of his hands coming up to cup your cheek. you smile at him, you fucking smile at him like you aren't peppering his cock in kisses. with a little nip to his thumb, you giggle, nuzzling into his palm. "just focus on me, okay, ken?" he nods, sucking in a breath when your lips press against the tip of his dick. "fuck, princess, god, when you suck me down like that-!" the calm, sweet environment was gone now, with the way you sloppily sucked his cock. it was so fucking messy, your lipstick smearing all over his shaft as your manicured hand cupped his balls, softly massaging them as you felt your spit dripping down to your hand. "yes, yes, just like that, princess, k-keep going. oh, you're so fucking beautiful with my cock in your throat, 'm gonna cum soon in that pretty throat," he oh-so gorgeously moans for you, throwing his head back as he tries not to buck up into your hot mouth. for being such a refined, put-together man, kento loves when you give him such messy head, seeing how your lipstick is smeared everywhere, your chin dripping with precum and saliva. you could feel him throb in your throat just from the view. your kento is so sweet like this, doing his best not to fuck your mouth. but could anyone blame him when your mouth is so hot and wet? god, he never wants you to stop, not when you make him feel so greedy. each time you take him down your throat, kento swears he's going to cum, his head lolling back again as he lets out a deep groan of your name when you take all of him down like it's nothing. he wanted nothing more than to grab you by your hair and fuck your mouth like he wanted...but he wouldn't. no, he's going to keep letting his darling pamper him how she wants...but when he keeps just moaning your name so sweetly, begging you to let him cum... "p-please, honey, I'm so close, let me cum, my pretty girl, let me cum, I'll do anything-!" how could you say no to that?

✧ h. hiromi lasts : entire month

by the end of the first week, hiromi realizes how much he fucking regretted doing this. dealing with his cases has him so stressed he's surprised he didn't go completely grey. every time he comes home, he just wants to love on you, his darling little wife, but he can’t because he’s already dedicated to beating this foolish challenge. so while he can't cum, he is sure to take his frustrations out on you. but it literally crushes him each time he makes you cum, whether it be with his hands, mouth, or dick, and you look at him with those cute pleading eyes, softly whining for him to let you take care of him and make him cum too.

you are too cute for your own good, nearly causing hiromi to cave in several times as the month progressed. even you can see how it was affecting him, as he gets more and more desperate to make you cum, his eyes always zeroed in on your face to ensure your feeling good. he was a prideful, strong man, but fuck, he was so frustrated and pent up that he started to beg you to cum. "you're close, right? i can feel it, sweet thing. just listen to your pussy, she's so wet and sloppy, just from my fingers," he groans into your ear, sounding so wrecked and needy, and he hasn't even touched himself once. but you can hear it, the annoyance in his tone. hiromi is so close to breaking, to giving up and you nearly beg him again to just fuck you, but your eyes catch a glimpse of the clock on the wall. 12:27 am. it was december. he did it, he fucking made it, and you were desperately clawing at his wrist, trying to get his attention. "'romi, 'r-'romi! 's december, you made it, please, pull it out, t-take your dick out, 'romi, need you in me so bad!" with a quick glance to the clock to make sure you weren't fucking with him, hiromi lets out a delirious laugh, undoing his pants enough to pull his throbbing cock out, and he easily folds you in half, sliding his tip through the sopping wet mess between your thighs. "i made it, didn't i? i made it. so now you're gonna reward me, right?" you squeal when you feel the tip of his cock get caught on the entrance of your hole and nudge in juuust enough for you to cry out his name, gushing from the little stimulation it gives you. "look at you...I've been neglecting this little cunt, my fingers aren't enough, my mouth isn't enough. no, no, she needs t' be stuffed with a thick, fat cock to make 'er cream...isn't that right, angel?"

✧ k. choso lasts : 30 minutes

choso was stupid. he was so fucking stupid for even thinking he could do this challenge. he literally heard about it from yuuji before but had no idea what it meant. so here he was, looking at the calendar on his phone. it was mid-morning, and 5 minutes ago, he decided to do this challenge. choso should've remembered that he was a desperate man when it came to you because the second you come out of the bedroom, rubbing your eyes as you sleepily greet your boyfriend, he knows he's fucked. but seeing you in his black t-shirt and likely nothing else and choso let out a shaky sigh. just looking at you has his mind racing with all the different ways he wants to have you. you’d look really cute in his lap with a blissed-out smile on your face. with a needy whine, he stands up, dragging you back to the bedroom as he greedily kisses you, shoving his tongue into your mouth and moaning against your lips.

"fuck, fuck, fuck, 'm sorry, you look s' cute, so pretty, m-my pretty baby, y-your cunt is sucking me in—!" choso is a mess, fucking into you from behind. his hands grip your hips, keeping your ass up in the air as his cock abuses your insides, his hot, thick tip smushing against your cervix. he's fucking you into the mattress, his moans mixing with yours and those sweet, wet squelching sounds coming from your pussy, sucking his cock back in with each pull out of you. "moan louder, please? m-move your head, stop muffling yourself w-with the pillow," he whines, his body hovering over yours. you can feel drool dripping from his mouth onto your back, and just the feeling makes your eyes roll back. knowing he was so needy and desperate just to get his dick wet inside of you that he was drooling all over you made your walls clench so hard around him. "c-cho, 's too fucking deep, b-baby, 'm gonna cum," you sob, hands clawing into the pillowcase. instantly, you feel choso grip you harder, barely pulling out of you as his hips slap against yours in a bruising fashion, your body jolting up the bed with how hard he was fucking you. "don' run, please,, don' run from it," he whimpers, choking on a sob as he feels himself twitch inside your gummy walls, his hips stuttering against yours when you keen, pushing back against him when he hits a spot that feels so good. "fuck, f-fuck, 'm cumming, your pussy's so good, so wet, so fuckin' hot, 'm sorry, 'm cumming-!" despite his orgasm rushing over him, he keeps fucking you, his eyes rolling back as he moans your name over and over again, begging you for...something. he doesn't notice the sudden change, but you do, suddenly feeling warm and full inside as he keeps pounding into you. your eyes snap open, and you whine, turning a little to press your hand against his chest. "cho, h-honeyyyy! t-the condom, you broke the condom, you're cummin' in me!' you can't lie, it feels so good, and you feel your head swimming as he pumps thick seed into your needy cunt. it's another minute until he's done, and he starts to pull out but sees how creamy his cock is...and the way the condom is ripped at the top. he...he just came in you. his thick cum was starting to drip out of you, and your hand came up to press against your hole, not wanting to drip it onto the mattress. but he only registered it as you wanting to keep it inside...you wanted his cum? you wanted him to fill up that pretty pussy? he didn't even realize he was speaking out loud, quickly peeling off the broken condom and lining back up with your creamy cunt. "i-i don't mind it, choso, b-but t-take the condom off b-before you-chooo, babyyy, w-wait, that's so deep-!" "s-shhh, s'okay, you can take it, take it for me, 's okay, i always make it fit, i-it fits so good, pretty cunt, 's all mine, 'm gonna cum 'n you over and over again until your a creamy little mess, baby, i-i'll eat it outta you too, promise, promise, just let me stuff you, please!" hm, maybe he'd tell you later this was supposed to be a challenge...maybe not and just pretend like he needed you real bad today.

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

[blockedbykei]

𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐄𝐂𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐘 !!

— haikyuu men as your boyfriend (ft. tsukki, tobio, hinata, kuroo, osamu, oikawa, & ushijima)

— a/n: in the midst of writing another fic (spoiler alert: it's kageyama), i've decided to rest my brain and give you an insight as to how the haikyuu men will be your boyfriend lol (lets pretend i didn't just insert my boyfriend's attitude in some of these dudes bc he is as sassy as tsukki and as obsessed with vball as kageyama)

tsukishima kei

- the type of boyfriend to close his fist when you try to hold his hand

- pretends he doesn't know you when you do something embarrassing

- greets you like he's annoyed but he actually isn't, he'll give your forehead a kiss after

- he's very supportive of your clothing, wear a bra and an underwear wherever you go– he wouldn't care. but when he senses the crowd isn't safe, he would constantly remind you to put a hand on your chest when you bend, or put a hand on your knee when you sig

- he gets flustered easily when you giggle whenever you see him use his phone without glasses and look like this -.-

- everyone says he's shy when it comes to pda. and that is so true. he would hold your hand but most of the time, you wrap your hand around his fucking pinky. he would occasionally wrap an arm around your shoulders, or you'd wrap your hands around his arm. kisses in public are chastised into cheeks or temples

- whenever you fight and you go to your room to sulk alone, he walks in without knocking, scooches on the bed beside you, and spoons you. it hurts him to see you cry even if you don't see it in his face, and he'll hold you in silence until you've gathered the courage to face him and talk about it

- biggest gift giver EVER

- he would literally get you anything that you want. you send him a pic of a dress and tell him you want it? he'll buy it for you even if you don't tell him to

- remembers every date of a special occasion, like first kiss, when you said yes to being his boyfriend, all that stuff

- when you're together for a long time, you don't talk that much yet you do your hobbies together. not because nothing's new and fun anymore, but because you've gotten so used to each other that the silence between you was comforting and filled with so much love.

- when you do talk though, you'd think he wouldn't indulge in whatever topic you ensue, but he would actually talk to you like it is the hottest tea in the century

- is a small spoon when he's so needy

- because of his love for strawberry shortcake, he actually knows how to bake it. you have it every weekend. and if he isn't so busy, you'd have it everyday.

- he taught you how to bake it *swoons*

- he smells like strawberries because he uses your perfumes all the time

kageyama tobio

- he smells the ball from far away

- like when you're both on a date or just hanging out outside, the minute he hears that exact sound of a volleyball bouncing on the ground, he will snap his head towards that direction

- LIKE A DOG

- i hc that he knows how to play the piano, so he has one in his room. when you hang out, you lay on the bed and he plays whatever song that comes into his mind

- he's so awkward even if you guys have been together for a long time

- on the court he's all badass but he's actually a loser LMAO

- biggest loser ever but he's so cute though

- like when he asked you out on a date, he was bowing and yelling "PLEASE GO OUT WITH ME" like he's so desperate and pathetic it's so adorable

- he's a good bf tho even if sometimes he's too preoccupied with volleyball. it's you above everything else so if you called him in the middle of practice, best believe he's running to you in a minute

- he's such a heavy sleeper. he sleeps with his eyes open sometimes and it creeps you out to wake up in the middle of the night with him staring at you with half lidded eyes

- when you fight he sometimes cries and will ask u to hold him

- doesn't know social cues sometimes you feel like you're mothering him but in a good way

- awkward kisser too sometimes he forgets to close his eyes

- when he takes a shit, it's always hard. like his poop is hard, so you hear him grunting in the bathroom

- he smells like metal sometimes but when he's at home he smells like markers its kind of addicting

hinata shoyo

- fucking TONE DEAF

- sucks at cooking, prefers your food over anyone else's

- loves cuddling he's such a tiny clingy baby you just want to eat him up and keep him in your stomach

- when you're sad, he goes out of his way to make you smile, even if it includes him hetting hurt

- compliments you ALL the time like he's all "wow baby you're so good at this and that you're so amazing please marry me"

- sticks to your side at every social gathering and will hold your hand the whole time

- he will feel like a literal baby if you're taller than him, and he LOVES taller women i so believe that

- when a match lasts for more than 3 sets, hinata is extremely tired and will pass out the minute he steps foot into your home

- he smells really good, like his skin smells amazing

- will do skincare with u bc he's sometimes as overdramatic as you when he sees red bumps on his face

- loves to give and receive a massage

- he's so chronically online too bc he's influenced by kenma so he's always up to date with all the trends and music. but he's also incredibly stupid with technology

- his phone always overheats

- twitches randomly in his sleep and sometimes he's so messy in bed he ends up pushing you off

- loves to take baths with you and let you play with his hair hehe

- the softest boy ever too like you would both always have a kitten staying in your home until someone can foster or adopt them because there's always a lot of sick strays outside of your home

- has a sweet tooth. his favorite is cotton candy

kuroo tetsuro

- he's actually emo sometimes

- sometimes because not only with his stupid bangs, but because when you're not giving him attention, he will play loud music that will get your attention, sit on the couch, and cross his arms and pout until you look at him

- he's one of those people that will get mad when you touch his hair

- smells like soap

- he treats you like a princess though like when he brings you to his parties he will bring you EVERYWHERE

- like a bodyguard too, will bring all your stuff even if they're heavier than his gym bag

- you're the one to always patch things between him and kenma when they fight because they're like literal children

- asks for your help to get kenma to eat when he plays too much

- a whiny bitch too like he's the type of person that's actually so clean so when he encounters a room that's dirty or a bathroom he thinks is too wet or has too much grime in the tiles, he will gag and pinch his nose (same goes for tsukishima)

- has a good sense in fashion, he dresses you A LOT

- puts your bag on your shoulder and scolds you like a mom

- scared of cockroaches

- literally would climb up a wall and sob when he sees one

- and he's such a good captain too like sometimes you'd see him talking to his teammates and give them advice outside of volleyball. he's their big brother

- he's your study buddy all the time. when he's not too preoccupied with volleyball, you're both studying together

- he cherishes your accomplishments and is always present at your events

- he's close with your friends that sometimes you see him playfully hump your boy-space-friends and moan like he's riding them

- used to be kenma's discord kitten too

- one time, in his drunken state, he showed you a picture of him and kenma in maid outfits during one of kenma's gaming streams, because they were both drunk and in lock down

- whenever you see the matches or hinata, tsukki, or kageyama, kuroo feels proud and tears up at how much they've grown

- loves kids. wants to plant a baby in you.

miya osamu

- when you wake him up in the middle of the night and ask for food, he WILL cook for you

- smells like fried chicken but its alright it smells good either way

- when you go to work, he always packs your lunch

- when you fight, he knows just what to cook to cheer you up

- he loves food so much that you can't remember the last time you haven't eaten, because he ALWAYS feeds you

- when he cooks at home, he wears a pretty pink apron just for you

- listens to music when he cooks, and even when he showers too

- when you have a big social event, he'll volunteer to give a portion of food in your event or actually cater for them

- when he cooks something that you don't end up liking, he is DISTRAUGHT; will do anything for you to like it again because there's no way that he can't feed you something delicious

- sometimes, when atsumu comes over, they both play volleyball INSIDE the house and atsumu sometimes gets too much, but before you could scold him, osamu's already on his ass

- as aforementioned, always expect midnight snacks

- he's like that dude on tiktok who can make everything out of chocolate, except his is onigri. or, well, he can shape anything made out of rice

- one time, on your anniversary, you woke up to a rice shaped like a life-sized teddy bear and it was actually so cool

- you have your own spot in his shop

- and he actually let you design the blueprint for his shop because he wants it to be yours too :(

oikawa tooru

- sometimes you don't know if he's your boyfriend or an opponent at a beauty contest

- he values skincare more than you do like he's buying face masks and exfoliators and everything and you caught him one time sleeping in one of those peel off mask things

- and he cries when you take off those peel off masks

- smells like rich perfume that hurts your nose

- but oikawa takes volleyball seriously. when he lost to karasuno, you caught him sobbing in his bed when you came to check up on him, and he let you hold him until he fell asleep

- that was also when he fell in love with you lol

- before you guys dated, you two were so close that tne girls actually stopped approaching him one time because they thought you were officially his girlfriend after he held your hand during a field trip to the museum because you almost got lost

- sometimes oikawa doesn't know who he's more scared of: you or iwaizume? bc both of you are always on his ass making fun of him and scolding him

- but he cherishes you so much though like he's treating you like his certified baby girl all the time— you're getting fucking princess treatment every single day. you don't remember the feeling of a bag in your hand because he's always CARRYING it

- oikawa is proud to take up the role as your assistant

- and he's also just as sassy as you are

- he's also rich so like you're always on adventures and on dates outside. but sometimes he likes to stay at home and cook for you even if it tastes like shit

- a jealous bitch

- one time a guy asked you for directions and oikawa told him to "turn right and then you'll see a mirror that tells you you're a piece of shit"

- you scold him after that. he doesn't care

ushijima wakatoshi

- bad at social cues

- he's like an old man and you're his social media manager bc why is he texting everyone through EMAIL when sms exists already

- there was that time when he sent you a nude and it went "was thinking of you. I miss you — Ushijima Wakatoshi" AND LIKE??

- he's literally "i'm so happy for you" o_o

- and he is though its just that he's always so dazed sometimes you think he's a robot

- he's a living baby though like he's one to be honest about something that he doesn't realize what he says and you feel embarrassed for him too so you're just kind of like sweetly telling him that it's not nice to say that someone smells like cigarettes or that their breath stinks

- one time, when you and tendou surprise him, you're both caught off guard when he actually jumps– but the thing is that he accidentally hit you with his arm due to his reflexes and you swear you got a concussion after that

- he LOVES CUDDLES and he loves sniffing you and sometimes hes a sub

- smells like rich cologne that actually smells good

- takes you with him everywhere and he has to be with you all the time or else he'll cry his ass out

- decides to be matrilocal too and take your last name when you get married bc he just loves you so much

- before you guys got together, he was always so stoic and silent. and he's so silent that sometimes he suddenly appears in front of you and talks to you like he didn't just almost make you shit your pants

- he also doesnt switch out his phone so when you're in the year 2024, he still has an iphone 7 that's too big for his hand

- his bff is tendou so he's always at your home too and they're watching a bunch of animes and you're just sitting between wakatoshi's legs like you're his stuffed animal

[muqingslover]

This question is related to the last ask you posted, but what do you think the lads men most unexpected/unconventional turn-on would be?

Your depiction of Zayne got me thinking, what is that shy man gonna do if mc finds his "weak" spot lol. Cuz yeah, obviously he'd be turned on about his beloved sending him risky pictures BUT the moment mc realises one of his unexpected turn ons that maybe he himself wasn't even aware of? Oh lawd.

[ this one had me thinking for days oh my goodness! Just a heads up, I got carried away with some of these...very carried away.....shhh. ]

Your lips.

Alright, alright, i know it sounds confusing but stick with me here.

I've thrown some of my takes on his kinks around but I didn't want to repeat myself so I spent some time stewing over this.

Eventually I landed on the idea that Zayne would be very particular about sharing anything that touched your lips, especially before an official relationship.

Drinking from the same straw, sharing the same spoon, tasting something you already bit into it— It's an instant way of getting his poor mind to go into overdrive.

He is a very proper and respectful man. He doesn't like to have indecent thoughts about you, but the idea that his lips touched something yours did as well make him all tingly and shy.

Massages.

He loooooves the feeling of your weight pressing down on his hips when you straddle him, though that's not even the tip of the iceberg as to why he is so into this.

Your hands are truly magical when it comes to getting rid of the few knots on his body and the further he relaxes, the further Xavier begins to grow more aware of you.

The comforting weight is slowly causing him to grind against the mattress under him each time you shifted on top of him and the way your hands make their way down his bare spine has him biting the pillow sheets.

Not to mention that the minute your fingernails scratch his scalp in an otherwise affectionate gesture he nearly cums in his pants.

His ears and neck feel so hot he decides to bury his face in the pillow to keep you from noticing.

He would either flip the tables on you at some point or (try to) go to sleep in hope everything would be fine once he wakes up again.

Gentleness.

That's right. You heard me. This man will crumble at your feet every time you care for him like he's a pretty princess.

I'm not necessarily talking about grand gestures. Simple and natural ones are the most effective. The type that you wouldn't even notice you are doing it.

Slow caresses on his shoulder or hands, checking to see if he's alright while cradling his face, patiently explaining something to him, wiping his face if there was something on it, running your fingers through his hair... ECT.

He has a distinct memory of you being so worried about him when he scrapped his hand during his daily troubles— It was no different than a paper cut to him, but the blood made it seem worse than it actually was and that caused you to immediately fuss.

He watched with such genuine adoration as you tended to his wounds; Your furrowed eyebrows as you focused, the soft concern in your voice when you asked if the disinfectant stung and how could Sylus not pretend that it hurt? Just a little bit. Just enough to hear more of your encouragement that it was almost done and he was doing well.

Trust me, it will lead to him kissing you without warning, seemingly out of nowhere, once it's done and prepare yourself for the best night ever.

(I cut this short like four times and still ended up being long....oh well.)

Helping him with his clothes.

Each time you fix his crooked, poorly tied necktie (which he absolutely hates to wear) or straighten up his collar for him Rafayel is fighting back demons.

This also applies to you helping him actually dress up (or undress) and picking out his outfits without him having to ask.

The sight of you standing in front of him, hands swiftly buttoning up his shirt, has him weak in the knees. It makes him feel as you're truly his partner. That this is the married life the two of you deserved to have eons ago.

Speaking of undressing, this naughty fish will absolutely tease you about unbuckling his belt.

He would take a seat on a nearby chair with a dramatic sigh before he asked for you to help him with his clothes because he was oh so very tired to do it himself.

He leans back against the chair as if it was his own personal throne, knees slack as he spread comfortably and tilts his head to the side to rest it on his hand.

"I have an early morning tomorrow, you know. Won't you finish helping me so we can head to bed?" It sounds innocent enough, rather playful even, but the expression on his face is anything but. Just look at the volume on his pants, he ain't fooling anybody.

Hearing his own name + Whispering.

Last but most definitely not least, everyone's favorite boy.

It doesn't matter what's happening the second you say his name his full attention is on you. It's like a very well trained dog.

He can tell what you're feeling, sometimes even thinking, based on the way you call him alone. It comes with the years of experience of being your best friend.

It however also comes with the perpetual problem that his body reacts so well to your voice that it ends up being a little *too* well.

You may be in the middle of an argument yet the moment you say his name Caleb would be fighting back a boner. upcoming fic sneakpeek—i mean what

Another odd turn on of his is when you whisper something in his ear.

It doesn't really matter what you're saying. The sound of your voice so close to him and the way he can feel your warm breath tickling his skin is enough to have this man crossing his legs and praying his bulge is subtle.

You can imagine the nightmare this was during teen years when the two of you would sneak around grandma's house.

[kurokawaia]

Hello 🩷I hope u are good.

Since u said u wanted to start writing for mha. I have a smutty request/thought abt how Bakugo,dabi shoto would eat you out.

Imo Dabi would be such a sloppy and touched starved eater. *giggling kicking feet*😂

HOW MHA MEN EAT YOU OUT

⋆·˚ ༘ * FEATURING :: Bakugou Katsuki, Todoroki Shoto, Dabi - (separately)

⋆·˚ ༘ * WARNINGS :: bakugou x fem!reader, shoto x fem!reader, dabi x fem!reader, fem!reader insert, afab reader, female anatomy, oral -> female receiving, restriction of movement, mentions of: begging, praise, hair pulling/tugging, use of quirk + possibly more. MIMI DRABBLES.

DABI

Dabi is a touch starved eater. Period. This man is sloppy and rough as he delves into your cunt. He will not let you escape, he will tolerate none of that. If you even attempt to squirm and wiggle away from his grip on your thighs, you thought wrong. You are laid on your back all the time, I doubt he would get on his knees beneath you, however, he might be into some face sitting action.

Dabi makes sure that your body is pinned in place, his scared hands will be tightly clasped on your thighs, his arms looped from underneath so he has the ability to keep you down. He will indulge you until he is satisfied, it doesn't matter how much begging you do, his fingers and tongue will keep you beneath him for as long as he pleases.

BAKUGOU

This man, this man right here knows what he is doing. Bakugou will be taking his sweet time with you. Yes, there are times where he will eat you out as rough and fast as he needs to, depending on how much he needs to be inside you. Though, most of the time he is making the slowest but most intense strokes with his tongue, making sure to lavish every part of your dripping pussy. Don't even get started on how he works those thick fingers inside your pretty cunt, nudging them so deep inside your walls that it will make your brain go completely fuzzy as you call out for him desperately, pleading incoherent words an arching into his touch. And when he releases those deep groans into your pussy when your fingers entangle with his blonde hair, tugging at the strands, he is a goner, wanting nothing more than to taste your cum on his tongue.

SHOTO

At the beginning Shoto probably wouldn't know what he be doing, but as the time moves on, he begins to start to realise how much eating you out turns him on as he slowly unravels with you. It's the same with Bakugou, the moment your hands trail down and land to tangle in with his hair he moans, breaths heavily into your dripping cunt. Yeah, he definitely has a kink for you pulling at his hair. Shoto has a deep need for you to be on your back, too. He has no problem with having you on top as he eats you out but he loves seeing how your face contorts in the prettiest expression as he gazes up through his lashes. Would make you cum just with his tongue, no finger action, but if you were being a little bit cheeky throughout the day he has no problem putting you in your place by overstimulating you.

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

honey's a/note :: first time writing for mha on tumblr >.< im excited to write more ^^ i tried getting this in character :,) please keep in mind that this is my own characterisation of how i think the characters would do it^^

[nanamisgirly]

༊࿐ ͎. Tell me what to do, Mr(s). General ft. husband!Caleb

୨୧ — SYN. if I say that I have no idea for synopsis is that wrong? if I say it's just Caleb being a total whimpering mess under his wife during a dry humping session IS THAT WRONG????

୨୧ — cw. please is used a looot, sub Caleb, crying Caleb, dom wife, possessive wife, praising and degrading Caleb, dry humping, cumming in pants, Caleb in uniform, needy Caleb, orgasm denial (ig), hint kink for voyeurism, pussy drunk caleeeeb

୨୧ — wc. 1.9k (I enjoyed this sooo much)

˖ 𑣲 comments and reblogs are always appreciated ma girliees <333

walking like a predator toward where your pretty husband caleb is sat—on a chair you previously put in the center of your shared room, ordering him to sit the moment he came home from his shift.

you trail a slow circle around him in heels and nothing else but the outfit you mischievously picked : sheer purple mesh that hugs your waist like a vice, a deep purple thong with a satin bow that barely covers anything, and a strappy harness that cups your tits. 

sinful.

“look at you, sitting so pretty for me,” you murmur, stopping in front of him, standing in between his strong, spread legs. caleb is still in his uniform, medals catching the low light, posture straight and big round puppy eyes looking at you like you hug the stars.

that big, terrifying colonel everyone salutes is just your sloppy little husband.

you take his hat, putting in your head as you settle onto his lap, “you're going to repeat after me,” you purr, voice husky and cruel. “only listen to my general,” you drag the hat lower over your brow, covering fully your eyes so he can only focus on your mouth and the smirk curving your lips. “tell me what to do, Mrs. General.” your face leans closer to his, noses brushing, your fingers curl around the back of his neck.

caleb hesitates—just a beat—and you feel his cock twitch beneath you, thick and already straining. his fingers dig into the side of the chair, trembling with restraint since you told him not to touch.

“only—only listen to my General…” his voice cracked, needy. “tell me what to do, Mrs. General.”

“gooood boy,” you coo against his lips—hips rolling against his cock through the layers of fabric. you're practycally naked and he's wrapped in stiff military fabric, but you've never felt this powerful. and he's never looked so vulnerable.

“you wear all these stripes and stars,” you whisper into his ear, grinding down slow, torturous. you create nothing but friction between your slick cunt and the thick ridge of him under those perfect, rigid military lines. “you snap at your subordinates like you've got bite…little do they know you're pathetic for your wife.”

he gasps through gritted teeth, muscles tensing, whole body locked up under the unrelenting drag of your hips. you smirk as his cock twitches, again, and again, and again. you grind down harder—rubbing your soaked panties over his shaft, smearing everything—until his lashes flutter and his head tips back slightly until his cheeks are flushed with the prettiest shade of red. 

he chokes on your name and says, “i-i know…i'm—ngh, pathetic. . .”

he bucks up helplessly, jaw slack, hair sticking to his forehead from how hard he’s sweating. your hands push him back down by the shoulders like you’re disciplining a misbehaved pet.

“god, you’re such a slut for it,” you sneer, dragging your soaked pussy over his cock slowly. “all that bark with everyone else—but me? you’d let me ride your face in front of the whole damn base if i snapped my fingers.”

caleb's eyes fly open at your words, pupils blown wide—you're probably fucking his mind upside down right now too. because he actually wouldn't mind drop to his knees in front of his whole bigrade—tongue out, begging for a taste—just to make you moan, to let them see who really owns him.

and you notice how his whimpers just grew louder from this idea, “oh, caleb… you're dirty. y'know that?” you grind harder, slower, meaner, your slick soaking through the lace of your panties and bleeding into the fabric of his pants—his cock an angry, twitching bulge pinned between you. “you're so desperate you'd let everyone see you losing your mind over your wife's pussy, letting them see how embarassing you can get..” you bite his earlobe hard enough to let him moan. “you're just a good little toy in uniform after all, a cock that leaks and cries ridiculously.”

and he nods. he nods.

his eyes are glassy, his warm purple had been swallowed by his pupils, his lips are parted and his knuckles are white from how hard he's holding onto the edge of the chair, still not touching you because you haven't let him. even his cheeks are streaked with real tears—shame and heat knotting his gut. 

“you gonna ruin your stupid pants while i hump you like a pillow?” you taunt, licking the salt from his cheek.

“please—fuck, fuck—please, p-please—i can't…please, fuck—please..” his head lolls back, he can't align two words together—he physically and mentally can't— not when he can feel your clit deliciously dragging over his swollen tip trough both layers, the texture unbearable. his thighs keep jolting up, poor boy thinks he might accidentally fuck you through his pants if he bucks just right.

and with his head throwing back, he give you a full view on that poor vulnerable throat—his Adam's apple bobbing helpless so you lean in and bite—the hat tumbles from your head, falling to the floor as your mouth seals over his neck, sucking hard, tongue swirling around it, lips locked around the bob like it's candy.

he chokes on the noise he makes—he's so easy.

you pull off with a lewd pop, spit shining on his neck, and you grin right into his glassy-eyed face. “do you like this, caleb? like being my little cockdoll in uniform?” you grind harder, and his eyes roll back— for a second he thinks he's gonna pass out.

you tilt your head, feigning sweetness as you watch him gasping. “that's okay, baby. you don't need thoughts after all." you kiss with fake gentleness his lips. “you just need to sit there and take it like the good little pillow fuck you are.”

“god—please—please, i'm…oh fuck, please—l-lemme touch y-you, fuck—please?” caleb's whole boyd is twitching, he's trying so hard not to rut up in case you might pull back. he's waiting for you to tell him what to do. he's sure if you ever decide to pull his pants and boxers down, you'd find so much precum soaked into them it'd look like he already came :(

his dick is so painfully stiff now there's no room left inside his boxer. it's straining against his waistband, trapped and pulsing, soaking through with pre that won't stop leaking.

“you're truly pathetic..” you say calmly, almost bored. “you're panting and soaking through your uniform like a teenager…caleb, did you wear those to work? your dump little cock all strained up in your pants to the idea of my pussy?”

“n-no, i—i didn't—” he's blinking fast, trying to focus, but his vision blurs.

“oh. so you didn't think about me while you were out playing hero? or the villain?” your hips grind down again—meaner, heavier. “not even once, pretty? not once while you were out flashing your badge, big man, that you imagined crawling home just to hump yourself stupid under me?” your voice drops, “you didn't think about how good it would fell to rub that needy, swollen cock against your wife's cunt?”

“fuck—fuck i did…” he chokes, “i did, i swear—just—it won't stop—i c-can't stop it—” his whole body's coiled tight, begging for release. his cock pulses again and again, fat and rigid. and it hurts so bad now it’s almost unbearable. his boxers are soaked through, sticking to him, wet and hot and suffocating.

“gonna blow in your fucking boxers just from me grinding on you. not even touching your cock. not even letting you inside.” you snarl, leaning close. “put your hands on my hips, now.”

no matter how much you were trying to play rude, you were just as desperate as him, and you also couldn't finish if he wasn't touching you. caleb doesn't need you to repeat twice, his hands are flying to your hips—gripping hard, his face is burning, tears watering his cheeks, tongue pressed to the back of his teeth like he's trying to hold onto the last scrap of dignity he has left, muffling all the pornographic moans he's making.

“you’re gonna make a mess right in your little cop costume,” you whisper against his mouth, not kissing, just hovering. “and for what? a few strokes of my pussy on your clothed cock?” you pant, sweat dripping down your neck and caleb's gaze is locked there—tongue almost stinging out, in wants to lick it, taste every inch of you, bury himself in your skin.

“please,” he gasps, hips jolting again, “please—I don’t care, I don’t—just let me, let me cum, i’ll do anything, i’ll ruin these pants, i’ll say thank you while i’m fucking leaking, i don’t care—please—” you raise an eyebrow, mocking as he continues. “i need—fuck, i need it…i'll clean it, all of it. . i swear—mghn, just—please, please let me cum…”

your breath hitches. 

you like it.

you like him like this—shaking under you, begging like something desperate and yours. it hits you in a wave, just like always : feral, possessive, overwhelming. you need him to break underneath you, to be a mess and only for you, only because it's you.

your hips stutter. just a friction. he moans, high, and it shreds through you.

“you feel that?” you snap, grabbing his jaw and tilting his head back, your own voice shaking now. “you feel how wet i am? what you're doing to me only by sitting there and whimpering for me?” his mouth drops open in a silent cry and just as you insert your thumb in his mouth, his hips snap up with a sharp, helpless jerk. 

he's so close, he swears he can taste it.

the fabric between you is completely soaked, clinging to every inch of him—your slick and his precum smeared into one hot, humiliating mess. his purple eyes disappear behind fluttering lids, his lips sucking greedily on your thumb, his moans vibrating through your whole body. “go on,” you hiss against his cheeks, nuzzling it, “cum in your pants for me. make a mess, ruin yourself like a good boy. pour so much cum that i can feel it through my panties.”

his hands are definitely going to leave bruises on your hips from how tightly he's groping you. his hips are having a mind of their own now, rubbing onto your clit, “fuck—fuck, oh god, fuck, ‘s too good, i’m—babe, fuck—”

his whole body convulses, once, twice—and he breaks.

his cock pulses hard against you, unloading into his boxers in hot, thick spurts, so much he actually whimpers from the pressure, from the pure relief. his thighs are trembling, his stomach twitching with every wave of release, and he’s gasping through it like he doesn’t even know what’s happening to him.

his forehead drops to your chest, breath hitching, and he’s sobbing. quiet, frantic little gasps. “thank you—thank you—oh my god—thank you—” he babbles, his words melting into your skin.

you’re still grinding, just enough to keep him oversensitive, to let him feel how wet he’s made you too. your fingers slide into his damp hair pulling his head back. his cheeks are flushed and wet, his eyes swollen. “you did so good, pretty boy.” 

you press your mouth to his, just a soft peck. “so so good for me, my dear.” you let your tongue glide out, slowly, lazily tracing his bottom lip—a question.

and he parts for you immediately, no hesitation in sight—he's just open and eager to obey you. your tongue slip into his mouth, claiming him all over again—sucking his tongue between your lips in a messy rhythm. your mouths mold onto each other, wet and rough, spit glistening down your chin. 

your brows pinch together, tight with something deeper than lust and all he can do is kiss you back, sloppy and dazed, hands still gripping your hips like you're anchoring him down to reality. 

(or heaven he doesn't know at this point)

  ˶‾᷄ ⁻̫ ‾᷅˵ 

[bitteriekitten]

calling them your husband.

synopsis — what the title says <3

warnings — extreme doses of fluff

featuring — xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus, & caleb (separate fics)

notes — i was originally going to post this by the time the game releases anything related to sylus's birthday banner - but i'm getting fkn impatient 😀 infold's just edging me atp </33 hope u enjoy this n pls leave feedback if u can <3 and ofc, you can find more of my works here!

Xavier would think he misheard you at first.

You began calling him your husband after seeing a video of another couple doing the same, finding the boyfriend's reaction hilarious. But you soon find out that you would have to get creative with coming up ways to repeat yourself calling him your husband. On your end, he looked indifferent, like he hadn't even heard you speak at all. But on his end, he was internally freaking out, wondering what he'd done to get this special treatment from you.

By the 5th time you referred to him as your husband, you were so close to just giving up. But then Xavier grabbed you by the shoulders to face him, barring you from any chances of escaping. He stays like that for a while, just assessing you intently without saying a word. You giggled at his expressionless face, "Yes, my husband?" you then asked, cocking your head to the side to appear more clueless and innocent.

"So I wasn't hearing things." he said, finally cracking a smile. He let go of your shoulders and caressed your cheek with his palm. You instinctively leaned into his touch as you mirrored his grin. "I don't know what I've done to be able to hear you call me your husband, but I'm incredibly honored, my love." he murmured, stealing your breath away right after with a soft kiss.

Zayne wouldn't be at all surprised when you start referring to him as your husband.

In fact, he expected it, as he's already discussed the prospect of marriage with you a handful of times already. The idea of marriage with you, possibly having kids and having a simple, domestic lifestyle in the future – it seems possible (and extremely easy to achieve, too) with the way your relationship was progressing. But on the other hand, he barely keeping it together, with how much you like calling him your husband. He's this close to just spontaneously getting on one knee to actually marry you.

"Aw, my husband's so stressed lately." you cooed, walking over to the back of his seat and placing your hands over his shoulders. Zayne cracked the smallest of smiles at his unofficial title, sighing inwardly as your hands began massaging him.

"Keep this up and I might actually become your husband," Zayne quipped. You abruptly stopped massaging him and let out a surprised laugh. "Dr. Zayne, when did you get so bold!" you laughed in delight. Zayne chuckled along with you, wondering if next week would be an appropriate time to go ring-shopping.

Rafayel would be reduced into to a puddle of shyness and absolute devotion for you.

It would take a hot minute for it to register in his brain that you just casually referred to him as your husband. He's still trying to get used to you being so bold with your affection ever since you two finally became official. For you to just drop the title husband next to his name, like it was second nature was mind-blowing. He can't even bring himself to tease you about being so forward, calling him as such when you're still new to this relationship.

You held him in your arms, his head on your chest. "My husband just needs a good cuddle, hmm?" you asked, sweeping your hand over his soft hair to see his eyes. Rafayel squirmed under your touch to avoid looking at you, unsure if he hated the attention or reveled in it.

"Cutie..." he began, but was unable to finish what he was about say. He genuinely sounded like he was in deep pain as he grumbled into your skin. "What, does my husband want some space?" you teased him, pretending to pull away from him. But Rafayel was quicker to pull you back to him, tightening his arms around your back. Needless to say, he loved being called your husband.

Sylus, without giving it any second thoughts, accepted it instantly.

He's always happy to indulge in whatever you wanted to do, yet this was on another level. As much as possible, Sylus would try to keep a straight, unbothered face – an incredible feat that would last him approximately fifteen minutes. He can't help the flutter that attacks him when he hears you call him that. He'd become extra clingy, his affection amped up to 500, and his words a lot softer and sweeter.

"Hubby, you're starting to act like a velcro baby." you joked, trying to navigate around Sylus's bathroom with him clinging to your backside with his arms wrapped around you. He grunted in response as he rested his chin on top of your head, watching you with sleepy eyes through the mirror.

You wrapped up the rest of your nightly routine with Sylus still clinging to you. You both plopped down onto his bed, tucking in for the night even though this was when Sylus was usually awake. He climbed on top of you and you wheezed at his weight on top of you. "Ack– you're crushing me, hubby!" you whined, trying to shove him off of you. Sylus ignored your protests with a content hum, his body and mind relaxing for the first time in a long time.

Caleb would have to use half of his strength to behave himself.

If he wasn't lovesick before, imagine the lengths he jumps over now. He already acts like a husband whenever you're around, you calling him as such amplified it to 400%. Cue then the uncontrollable smiles and giggles as he settles 100% of his attention onto you. He'll never ever admit it to you, because he knows you'll definitely use it to your advantage, but this is absolutely the surefire way to get anything and everything you could possibly want from him, no questions asked.

Caleb grinned widely as you excitedly squealed over the plushie he won you. "Hubby! I can't believe you got it!" you marveled, hugging the sheep tightly. Caleb chuckled at the silly nickname, patting you on the head and kissing you on the forehead.

"I couldn't have done it without the unwavering support from my... wifey." Caleb replied cheekily, earning a bright smile from you. You hugged him, your new plushie squished between your bodies. "You're the best, hubby." you muttered into his ear, and Caleb kissed your forehead again. You peeked over his shoulder and saw a restaurant that caught your eye. You pointed at it, "I'm a bit hungry now, hubby. Can we grab something to eat there?" you asked him. Without saying anything back, Caleb agreed - anything for his wifey.

[ptergwen]

im not sure if you’ll see this😭 but can i have reader being like maddy from euphoria, confident, bad bitch, short skirts and she’s dating peter and they have this secret relationship cuz shes popular and hes not so they both go to a party and makes out in the restroom and comes out together and then flash is making fun of them and then she just kisses peter right in front of everyone (im so srry this is long but i hope u see this

out of sight, on his mind ‎♡‧₊˚

ask box  |  taglist  |  blurb masterlist  |  main masterlist

w/c: ?

warnings: making out, suggestiveness, drinking, like one swear

a/n: oh i looooved this idea thank you very much for your service babes :D also don't forget to join my new taglist y'all i only got a couple of you so far & happy reading!

you down a shooter, gagging at the bitter taste of the alcohol. you giggle and stick the tiny bottle in your bra. you're dancing with a group of your friends. one of them takes your hand, the two of you moving to the beat of the music. peter watches you from across the room with the hint of a smile.

he wouldn't typically spend his friday night in the corner of a packed houseparty nursing a cup of jungle juice, but ned insisted they go. his best friend is determined they both up their social statuses this year. they're not too popular at midtown, with the exception of the academic decathlon team.

if people only knew peter was dating one of the most popular girls in school; you.

it was peter's idea to keep your relationship secret. you'd wanted to show him off, but he's too shy. you're always the center of attention, and peter parker doesn't do well with attention. he'd much rather admire you with everyone else in public and be yours in private.

"come on, peter! it's a party! shouldn't we be, like, dancing or something?"

"i don't know, ned. just... drink your juice."

ned takes a generous swig of his drink and cringes. peter chuckles, sipping from his cup.

"what's in jungle juice anyway?"

"um, everything i think. you might blackout if you have too much."

"dude, that's the goal."

you catch peter's eye again. you're holding your friend's arm that's wrapped around your shoulders, hips swaying. you shout along to the music with the rest of the girls in your group. you look so carefree, and so damn good.

the pink, strapless dress you're wearing is hugging your body in all the right places. your hair is styled to perfection, tiny gems dotted along your eyelids. your look is complete with a pair of knee high boots. peter loves your style. there's no way to describe it other than that it's you, who peter adores an insane amount. he wishes he could be as bold as you are.

peter's phone vibrates in his pocket; it's a text from you.

are u watching me?

before he even answers, you send another.

come to the bathroom

peter briefly locks eyes with you. you give him a mischievous smile before slipping away, making some excuse to your friends. he bites his lip to suppress his own grin.

"hey, ned? how about i go get us some refills?"

"bet! i’m gonna dance."

ned hands peter his cup and claps him on the shoulder, disappearing into the crowd. instead of refilling their drinks, peter makes his way to the bathroom. there's a few people waiting in line. knowing you, you've already claimed it from them. he knocks at the door. a hand reaches out and grabs at peter's flannel, pulling him inside.

"hi, baby."

your glossy lips capture peter's in a kiss. he instantly leans into it, but you pull back much to his dismay. his big brown eyes go even bigger.

"woah... hi."

you laugh softly.

"miss me?"

"seems like you missed me too."

"maybe."

you run a hand through peter's hair. his hands settle on your hips.

"sorry for watching you, couldn't help it. you look so pretty tonight."

"i always look pretty."

your tone is playful, but peter knows you mean it, and he couldn't agree more.

"whatcha been up to? you having fun?"

your manicured nails scratch lightly at peter's scalp. he practically purrs at the feeling.

"mm, just been hanging with ned. i don't really know anybody else."

"you know me."

"but you're with your friends."

"so?"

"so... you know i’m shy, princess."

you giggle.

"it's just 'cause you're not drunk enough, baby."

"oh yeah?"

peter's thumbs run up and down your sides, face only inches from yours. you retrieve the shooter from your bra. there's still at least half a shot left.

"open."

peter does as you say and opens his mouth. you take his chin between your fingers and tilt his head back, pouring the rest of the strong, sweet liquid down his throat. he swallows. you toss the bottle aside. peter gives you a look, one that says kiss me. you shake your head, smirking.

you want him to kiss you.

peter's lips smash into yours. his eagerness makes you giggle into the kiss. you grip the collar of his shirt in both hands, lips moving slowly against each other's. peter backs you against the door.

"did i already tell you how pretty you look?"

"mhm, but not enough."

"you're right. you're so pretty."

peter kisses down your neck, breathing in the scent of your perfume. you guide his lips back up to yours.

"you are too, y'know."

you peck peter's lips softly, letting your lips linger over his after, eyes searching his. they twinkle. you mesmerize him, truly mesmerize him. you kiss an awe-struck peter properly this time. he holds your waist, head tilted to deepen the kiss.

your make out session is rudely interrupted by someone knocking on the door.

"yeah, one second!" you answer. "let's get out of here."

peter groans and buries his face in your neck.

"but i don't want to. wanna keep kissing you."

"not here, baby."

"why not?"

he leaves more kisses on your neck. you coax peter away, laughing, his arms still wrapped tight around you.

"the line. wanna find somewhere else?"

peter perks up at that.

"okay, let's go."

you lead peter out of the bathroom. he follows, hand in yours. even though no one seems to pay any mind to the fact that you were in the bathroom together, peter can't help but blush. he doesn't make it out unscathed, though; none other than flash thompson notices him.

"penis parker, is that you?"

you stop walking, eyeing flash over your shoulder. peter lets out an exasperated sigh.

"what's up, flash?"

"you are."

peter looks down to see an obvious bulge in his jeans. his cheeks burn hotter, hand leaving yours to readjust himself. a few people turn around to look.

"y/n's a big step up from your imaginary girlfriend. where'd you say she was from again, canada?"

you narrow your eyes at flash, a hand wrapping around peter's bicep.

"do you know him?"

"yeah, we're... friends. sort of. we do academic decathlon together."

your gaze shifts to peter.

"friends?"

"oh yeah, we go way back. any friend of parker's is a friend of mine."

flash smirks at you. you look him up and down, face scrunched in disgust.

"ew."

more people are starting to watch the exchange. you glare at flash, who holds your gaze knowingly. peter can tell you're about to go into protective girlfriend mode. he squeezes your hand that's on his arm.

"anyways, just wanted to congratulate you on your first baddie," flash tells him. "try not to fumble."

before peter can process what's happening, your lips are on his, hands cupping his cheeks to keep him in place. maybe it's just because he's tipsy, but peter actually finds himself having the courage to kiss you back in front of everyone. you smile at this. he holds you by your waist, letting himself enjoy the kiss for a while longer.

peter's lips are puffy and covered in your gloss when you two pull apart. he draws you in closer to himself, giving you one more short kiss, then another. the two of you earn whistles and chatter from everyone watching. you giggle, thumbs caressing peter's cheeks and gaze meeting his.

there's something in his eyes that you haven't seen before; confidence. he might be shy, but not when it comes to you. not anymore.

you look over at flash smugly, his mouth dropped open.

"he won't."

tags (join my new taglist!)

@spidermans-gf @sacharinee

[yoitsjay]

Just curious if you could do this, but-

Pegging batboys headcanons? PLEASE???

I would literally sacrifice my first born for you if you make this happen.

*Twirls hair* Ily, bye!!

😘

I screamed (the s is silent)

"Can I shove my fake, thick cock in your ass baby? Please? God pleasepleaseplease-"

Pegging the batfam HC:

Bruce Wayne

He'd be unsure at first, I think. He had never been with a woman who not only was desperately horny 24/7 (I see you sluts), but was also kinky as hell.

This was new.

At first he'd say no, the idea was uncomfortable to him and you understood, you thanked him for thinking about it, then gave him a really good blow to soothe it over.

After that... he dived into the research.

It started with articles, about the safety and concerns with pegging, proper handling, and 'etiquette'.

Then he started watching videos when you weren't home, and he was alone.

He watched as men were reduced to nothing but whimpering, pleading messes under the relentless, or sensual assault of their lovers silicone cocks.

He got rock hard.

Then he brought it to you.

And within hours you had playboy billionaire philanthropist, begging and crying on his hands and knees, needing you to stop teasing and prepping and to just fuck him.

How could you say no?

Dick Grayson

"Yes"

It was his immediate answer. And honestly it kind of caught you off guard. You knew dick was a slut, but you didn't know he was this much of a slut.

He let you do all the prep you needed, he bought toys for himself, proper lube, etc, wanting it to be perfect.

When it finally happens you do a little roleplay, then he's yanking down your pants and watching the (surprisingly realistic) silicone spring free from your pants.

He's practically slobbering as he blows you, though you can't feel it, you have a vibrator inside of you for some mutual satisfaction. And he's getting off on the sound of your moans as he hollows his cheeks and pulls off with a lewd pop.

You have him bent over the couch within seconds, biting and sucking at his shoulders and the back of his neck as you pound into that plump ass of his.

He can only cry and beg for more.

Jason Todd

He didn't know what you meant at first.

Yeah he could be kinky but it hadn't been long since he had come back from the dead, he just got used to having you back in his arms, so sex was soft, loving. He didn't want to hurt you.

Then you explained what it was.

And his eyes go wide.

He loves you too much he can't say no.

Again, going through the prep.

Once it's time you slowly push in and his eyes fly wide.

Then he's fisting himself as he buries his face into your pillows, inhaling your scent as he rocks back and forth on the bed, trying to hide his moans, and the way his face flushed, not expecting this to feel so fucking good.

Then you start to hear little grunts, then moans, and he gradually gets louder as he gets closer, and closer.

And when he cums it's explosive, and you've reduced him into a whimpering, begging mess. "One more time- please- please-"

Tim Drake

He brought it up first. And it surprised you. You both sat together, did research, watched videos (and helped each other get off to those videos.)

You went shopping together and brought the proper supplies and asked important questions to forums with a lot more experience. And once you both felt that you were ready, it began.

Tim was loud. Louder than all of them. This little muscly twink was pushing his ass back against you with every thrust, throwing his head back, arching, moving into any position you wanted him in just so he could feel you deeper.

You got off on how loud he was being.

Tim, who was normally so focused, quiet, observant, was blissfully fucked out of his mind, drooling, crying out your name as he grasped and tugged on your arms, hair, hips, anything he could get his hands on...

He'd die happy like this, speared on your cock.

Damian Wayne

"No fucking way"

He wouldn't even let you explain what it was. At first he kind of kink shamed you, and you won't lie, it stung.

He noticed you went quiet after that, even when he made love to you, your moans were quieter, almost entirely just grunts or soft sighs, like he wasn't making you as aroused as he used too.

He apologized, figuring out quickly that it was the way he shut down your words so quickly. All you asked was for him to just research.

And research he did.

He was still unsure, but eventually you managed to talk him into it.

He couldn't deny by the end that he thought it was definitely diffrent... fun in a way.

You both agreed it wouldn't happen all the time, only when you really needed to add some spice to the bedroom, or when he found himself begging for it.

Now that boosted your ego.

And when he was under you? He was a lot like Jason, moaning, hiding his face in embrarssment, fisting himself to every thrust, his orgasm coming so fast his mind went blank.

Safe to say, the batboys love that thick silicone cock of yours.

Slut.

Tag list:

All: @francesfarhadi

Batfam:

BW smut:

DG smut:

JT smut:

TD smut:

DW (aged up) smut:

[yougavememyopia]

Continuation of this. A bit suggestive at the end.

Loser yandere was on his knees, begging for forgiveness. He got ahead of himself. Sucking your fingers like a perverted freak. He looked up at you with glassy eyes, pouting just slightly. He didn't mind your pity. In fact, he wanted it. The worst he made himself look, the more you let things pass.

You sighed, ultimately having no choice but to forgive him. He looked so sad, so lonely. Like a stray puppy begging for attention. Why wouldn't you spare his feelings? He had no real friends. It made sense that he didn't know how to act properly.

Except he did. He was just manipulating you, saying the right things to make you cave and hang out with him. He would speak with a certain depressed tone that would melt your heart, and when you agreed, he would become extremely happy. Cheering and overreacting. A great excuse to excitedly hug you. Throw his arms around your shoulders and get lost in your scent.

He was strangely smart. Using both negative and positive reinforcement. Getting you to say yes to avoid making him sad, and making you feel content by his contagious smile. All part of his plan that'll eventually end with you two happily engaged.

Even if that strategy didn't work, he'd just whine and beg. He knew you couldn't take it. You would glare at him, and he'd feel a strange sensation through his body. Sometimes, he wondered how being hit by you would feel like. Or maybe with your hand wrapped around his throat.

Given how much he bothered you, it was a miracle you were still friends with him. It wasn't all that bad. You somehow had fun hanging around with him, laughing at his silly jokes. He'd take you to so many places. Always making sure you were enjoying your time so you'd come back for more!

When you weren't in public, he'd get clingy. It was obvious he was touch-starved and a big attention seeker. He wanted to have you touch him, get close to him, and pay attention to him. Only him.

"I can't get this stupid button undone... Can you help me take this shirt off? Come onnn, it's way too hot in this room..."

"Look how good I smell. Come on, sniff my neck. It's a new thing I bought. It smells like your favorite!"

"I'm so hungry, and my hands are all tired. Ughh.. Can you feed me a snack? I'll open my mouth wide for you. Aaah~"

He'd still bug you about the kiss. Not ever talking about the incident afterwards. Those few months of reinforcement should've made you softer to him. He should've been able to get you to agree. But you stayed determined to deny him.

"I want a kiss already... Why can't you, my bestest friend, show me how it feels~? All of these movies have one. I'm being reminded of how much of a loser I am every single day." He grumpily said to himself as you both watched a weird horror movie. The scared couple on the screen made out to relieve their stress... or something. It was a strange movie he (purposely) picked.

"Can't you fucking understand?! It'll change this whole relationship. I told you that a million times." You crossed your arms, darting your gaze from the movie to him.

He sighed. You sighed. Then you exchanged a look. "Alright. Fine. You're not gonna stop asking, are you? Just promise me you won't act all awkward after it."

He lit up, nodding eagerly. "Really?! Oh, wow! Thank you. Thankyouthankyouthankyou! You're the best! Seriously. A life saver~"

"Shut it." You groaned, watching the last bits of the movie with the characters escaping.

"Yes, ma'am. You got it." He climbed on your lap. That made you stiff a bit, looking at him with a confused look. He set his legs on your sides, his arms wrapping around your neck. "How is this gonna work? Can you please do it very slowly?"

"Eh...? Okay. Whenever you're ready." You wrapped your arm around his waist, not knowing what else to do with them. He hummed happily. His face came closer to you, and somehow, you felt nervous. You shrugged it off, letting him kiss you at his own pace.

"Here I go..." he whispered, his nose rubbing against yours.

He pressed a small peck on your lips as if to test out how it feels. Before you could correct him, he kissed you again. This time longer and harder. You squeaked at the suddenness, forced to lean back against the couch as he began to lick your lips, asking for entry.

You reluctantly opened your mouth, and he wasted no time. Pushing his tongue inside your mouth. Lapping at anything he could find. Your tongue brushed against each other, eliciting a moan from him. His hand held the back of your head to keep you from pulling away. Shifting a bit on your lap, whimpering against your lips.

He kept licking your tongue, sucking on it. He moaned again when you finally returned the kiss. His movements were clumsy, making it easier for you to take control. After a minute, he pulled away, panting as he buried his face into your neck. He seemed embarrassed, and so you hugged his waist tighter.

He moaned against your neck. "Ah.. that felt so nice. Mmh, shit..."

"Yeah... you got a little ahead of yourself, y'know. It was supposed to be a simple kiss. I never said tongue was allowed." You pointed out. Rolling your eyes, because you knew he didn't care.

"You never said it wasn't." He sat up to look you, tilting his head innocently. "I would've listened to you if you said it."

"No, you wouldn't have." You mumbled.

"You also didn't say I can't go for another one~!" He leaned in again and captured your lips in another kiss. You protested, hands gripping his shoulders now to push him away. He whined, sucking your lips as if that would change your mind. "But, please, just one more. I still haven't learned the proper technique yet."

You were beginning to understand that he had a different reason for overstepping boundaries. The way he kissed you, the way he tried to savor your taste, the way his pressed his body against yourself. It was like he was trying to devour you. Trying to be one with you.

He moaned loudly when he pulled away. His body was shaking a bit, his eyes dilating. Something pressed against your stomach. You didn't need to look down to see what it was. "Um... Oops?"