#They want to give but are beating themselves up with shame that they can’t

[void-tiger]

…pleasepleaseplease believe me that I want only what you can freely give, that I can wait instead if you need me to until you feel like you can give unrestrained.

I just want to be allowed to stay.

[delwrites]

HI HI james is my pookie rn too and I'm craving fics so !!!!

consider. James with a really studious kinda reader (I'm thinking Ravenclaw but house doesn't have to be specified), academic rivals to lovers? like reader gets the best scores in most subjects but just can't manage to beat James in transfigurations? perhaps one day they find themselves struggling so much they just HAVE to ask him for help (as much as they hate to admit it) and they realize he's actually not as insufferable as they thought he'd be... then study sessions (cough dates cough) get more frequent and I think you can imagine where this is heading

hope you understand what I'm trying to say ^_^ you don't have to write this if you're struggling or don't feel like it but thanks in advance if you do 💋💋

an- i have to be honest, i didn’t write this alone… @koishua posted a list of prompts for academic rivals and i used a few, big shoutout to them thank you so much, they helped a bunch <3 this request was amazing, thanks babe!

James Potter loved to get on your nerves.

The smug bastard had seen how good you were in all your subjects, so he just loved to hold your greatest shame over your head; transfigurations. That bitch.

His annoying attitude paired with his holier-than-thou perspective vexed you to no end. But what irritated you the most was how genuinely gifted he was, when you could barely understand the simplest of spells. It was unlike you, and he knew it, and gosh he loved to rub your face in it. You dreaded every upcoming test, and no matter how hard you studied, it made no difference when it came to putting the theory into practice. You hated him and his smug fucking face.

His smug, handsome face. 

Before you had spoken to him, you almost could’ve sworn your heart jumped in your chest a little. Before he had opened his fat gob, you’d almost thought you actually found him sufferable. Oh how wrong you’d been. 

“Exam coming up, sweetheart. I can’t wait to rub my superiority in your face, again!” You rolled your eyes as James took his respective seat next to you. Regrettably, you’d allowed him to be your seatmate, the first day of lessons your eyes following him as he smoothly slid down on the shared desk next to you. You didn’t realise, at the time, just what you were getting yourself in for.

“Oh shut it, Potter, this time is the time I get you back, just you wait.” You spat his name out with as much venom as you could fathom, before he let out a surprisingly loud laugh at your words.

“Please, oh I’d love to see that!” The bastard. You’d show him, you just had to.

The next day was the first time where this pointless rivalry had faltered, it almost made you like him. Almost. You were sick, in bed all day with a flu that was going around. It was hardly anything serious, you weren’t exactly bedridden, but you didn’t want to pass it on to any of your respective classmates (although you wouldn’t mind poisoning a certain one). 

It was late afternoon, just after last period, when a certain displeasing bespectacled boy was at your dorm room door, rasping a melodious knock that tore a groan from your throat. 

“Come in!” He peeked his head around the door, a cheery expression faltering at your state, before coming back tenfold, a detail you missed having your arm thrown over your eyes. 

“You had no right to get sick!” He all but whined. You looked at him incredulously, baffled by his sudden outburst.

“Who am I supposed to annoy now?” 

“Well I didn’t mean to get sick!” You reply, exasperated by his antics, and the annoying tone his voice was piercing your brain with.

He smirked at you, happy you still had your argumentative nature with him, even in your state, before handing you a bundle of parchment.

“Uh, here.” He gives you a lopsided grin, best he could muster for you right now, before clasping his hands behind his back, rocking himself back and forth from the balls to the heels of his feet.

Upon reading the parchment, you instantly knew what he’d done. You furrowed your brows upon glancing over his notes (in aggravatingly nice handwriting, might you add).

“What, and the joke is they’re all wrong or something?” you say, clearly irritated, waiting for him to get to the point, hit you with the punchline. 

“No! No, I just, um, want my win to be a fair one, you know? Can’t have you falling behind, can we?” By this point, his feet had planted firmly beside your bed, hand going up to scratch the back of his neck awkwardly.

“I, uh, used my best handwriting and everything. I know you always complain about how ‘illegible’ it is so I, y’know, wanted to make sure you could read them…” he says, his hand then gesturing to the aforementioned papers in your grasp. All you could do was stare at them, trying to figure out his real intentions. James Potter wouldn’t just do something nice for you, would he?

Upon your silence, his brain scrambles to fill it, “You can read it, right?”. You feel a smile fighting onto your face, a genuine, stupid smile trying to unabashedly show itself. 

“Uh, yeah, yeah I can read it, idiot. Um seriously, I- thank you?”

“Wow, don’t have to sound so genuine.”

“No, James, seriously, it, um, it means a lot…” your eyes stick onto the post at the end of your bed, your duvet suddenly feeling suffocatingly warm. 

James can’t help but feel stunned at your use of his actual name. It felt silly, but he could feel your resolve crashing down before him, it made his own rear its head into the room, before he heard your door open, signalling his departure.

“Right, well I’ll, uh, see you later.” He gives you his best grin, teeth and all, before scooting past your friend to go back to his friends, a confusing blush covering his cheeks. Shit.

Your next lesson back, you couldn’t help but feel your anger tenfold. You had read over his notes and, for fucks sake, they were amazing. You already had a better understanding of the subject just after two, maybe three sides of parchment. I mean wow, what a dickhead. A super smart, super hot dickhead. You took your spot next to him, not daring to give him a glance.

“Woah, you’re awfully quiet. Finally realise I’m so much better than you at this?” He turns to you, smug smirk on his lips that you just wanna smack (kiss) off his stupid face. You turn to him as well, so suddenly that he almost flinches. 

“Teach me.” 

It certainly wasn’t what he was expecting you to say, but if it led to you here, now, like this, then boy was he glad. You were sitting practically thigh to thigh in the library after school, you requesting his help right up until dinner (or however much of it you could take until then). 

After around two hours of his help, you hated to say that you were already seeing improvement on your behalf. You’d never seen him so serious, not shy to crack jokes of course, but you could tell he was genuinely trying to help you. There were points where you couldn’t help but get distracted, watching his hands run over the pages, using them to further drive his points home, not shying away from the proximity like you desperately wanted him to. Every time you asked him to repeat himself, he’d poke your side, asking if he’s going too fast for you (not quite as teasingly as you’d expect him to, though), before repeating himself in a way that he deemed would make things more clear for you. It’s his fault, anyway. If he hadn’t been so close, so touchy, you wouldn’t get distracted in the first place. Hell, you could practically feel his breath on your neck. Despicable. You could only pray he couldn’t feel your heart rate speeding up, body temperature rising. If he knew the reason for your getting distracted, he sure as hell wasn’t showing it, at least having the decency of saving you the embarrassment. 

It all came to an end (sadly) when Remus came into the library, looking for a particular book and finding more than he bargained for. A smirk overcame his face, before walking over to you both, bending next to James’ ear to mutter a quick “Sirius has been looking for you,” and leaving you both to your devices as he continued scouring the library for his book, discreetly eyeing you both up. 

“Thanks again for, y’know, everything.” You say awkwardly, wringing your hands together in a manner which had his eyebrows creasing, lips in a straight line before sucking in a sharp breath, replying with a genuine, “Hey, I get it. Having a reputation to uphold and what-not, it can be a lot…” You just nod, eyeing up his face for any indication of him not meaning what he was saying, sniffing out any traces of a potential trap. 

“No really, you make a great teacher.” You beam up at him, the closeness of him making your breath catch in your throat, faces so close you could almost…

“I am brilliant, aren’t I?” Moment ruined. 

You let out a genuine (albeit, surprised) laugh in his face before gathering your ink and quill, putting all the parchment used into your bag and holding out a hand to him. 

“Truce?”

“Truce.”

[lovebugism]

Spoooooky request, what if the gang went to a haunted house and everyone made fun of reader for being scared, but Steve holds her hand and walks with her 👻

thanks for requesting angel! i switched it up a bit and did a sort of second part to this fic! you def don't have to read it but it'll give some context :D — you're still getting used to the world post-vecna, but it's easier with steve holding your hand

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

The haunted house off Fifth Street looks strangely familiar. Two stories, faded cornflower paint job, boarded up windows. It looks like a dollhouse from hell. It looks like the goddamn Creel House. It’s like some kind of sick joke.

It didn’t take Hawkins very long to recover from last spring. Mostly because it was just an earthquake to everyone else. No one died, nothing was ruined beyond repair. To the rest of the town, it was just a minor natural disaster — an inconvenience more than anything.

No one knows that a thirteen-year-old girl killed the monster trying to end the world. No one knows that the local freak nearly died saving a bunch of teenagers. No one knows that one song, one heavy metal guitar, and one good memory just narrowly saved your life. 

It’s secrets all of you are gonna have to keep for the rest of your lives. It weighs you down accordingly.

“Am I crazy, or is that…?” Robin trails off, freckled chin tilted towards the velvet blue sky as she gapes at the artificially rotted house. It glows a sickly green color on the outside. The windows light up red every now and then, in time with the screams echoing from the upper story.

“Yeah,” Nancy answers, breathless and equally dumbfounded. “I think it is.”

A beat of silence falls over the group of you. It doesn’t feel so heavy with the surrounding chatter. The crowd continues to bustle around you on the street, falling over themselves with laughter and lingering fright. They have no idea the ghost story they grew up with nearly destroyed the world.

The bitter realization makes your chest ache. Steve seemingly understands this and gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. You wonder if he can feel the way you tremble.

Eddie scoffs a cynical laugh from the other side of you. A pink, sadistic grin tugs at his lips, almost as wild as his curls billowing in the autumn breeze. “It’s basically kismet then, huh?”

Steve shoots the boy a half-hearted glare, then deflates because he realizes he can’t really be mad about it. Those damn demobats might’ve taken a pound of flesh from his stomach, but it’s nowhere near the feast they made out of Munson.

“C’mon on, dude,” he murmurs quietly with a subtle nod down at you.

“What?” Eddie snorts. “If I don’t laugh bout it, I’ll start crying, so… Take your pick, man.”

Steve wants to tell him that there’s no shame in crying. That he’s done it plenty of times since the fall of ’84. He’s cried for you, for himself, for the kids who will never get to be kids again. He figures it’s better than letting it all build up until you damn near explode. 

But now’s probably not the best time for that talk. Or any time, really. He’ll get you to get all serious and sappy with Eddie about that another time, just like you did for him.

“I’m gonna, uh— I’m gonna go get the tickets,” Jonathan murmurs with his usual Byers mumblings. 

He wasn’t around for the whole Vecna ordeal — just the weird shit in California and the secret lair thing in Nevada. He feels like he can be a bit braver about the whole thing for the four of you.

Nancy brushes a kiss to the boy’s cheek before he leaves. She does that a lot now, with Jonathan and all the rest of you. She always feels like she needs to say a proper goodbye and I love you whenever someone leaves. Just in case the world decides to end again.

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Steve mutters to you, gaze twinkling with sincerity but stern still. “You know that, right?”

He knows that you know, but he feels the need to say it anyway. Mostly because he knows you were already scared of most things before everything went to shit. You’ve always been delicate, tender, like an open wound. Now, you can’t step outside without shaking. You’re always shuddering with the distant fear that the curse might return and no one will be there to save you.

Steve knows this, too. That’s why he holds so ardently to your trembling hand. It’s a silent reminder that he’s there, that he won’t let anything happen to you again, that he’ll always be around to save you when you need him.

“Oh, my god,” Robin groans, eyes wide and head tilted back. “Leave her alone, Steve! She’s fine!”

You know she’s just trying to be supportive. She thinks Steve’s coddling you because you’re quiet — that he’s sticking up for you because he thinks you can’t stick up for yourself. 

He is. And you can’t. But still, she’s only trying to help.

Steve looks to his left to glare at her. They seem to communicate telepathically for a moment. His eyes soften again when he turns back to you. His deep cinnamon gaze swims with a honeyed concern, a silent “Are you fine?”

You nod. “I’m okay,” you tell him, mustering a soft smile that wavers at the edges.

He doesn’t believe you, not completely, but he doesn’t press it any further.

Jonathan returns with the ticket stubs. They’re black and blood red. You take the one he gives you with hesitant, clammy hands. He seems to notice how terrified you are without you having to say a single goddamn word.

“I’m not a huge fan of these things either,” he confesses with a thin-lipped smile. A light-hearted way of telling you that you’re not alone in the fear you keep hidden (very poorly hidden, you figure).

You smile back at him, but it doesn’t quite meet your eyes. 

Your fingers fidget with the paper stub — maybe a distraction for yourself or maybe to hide how you’re too anxious to stay still. Steve figures it’s a bit of both. ‘Cause he knows you too well and not a thing gets by him. There’s nothing about you that he doesn’t notice.

He turns to face you completely while everyone else gets their ticket. He keeps his wedged between his middle and forefinger as his hands curl around the outsides of your elbows. He’s serious, but still soft — gentle, but still firm. 

“Babe—”

“Stevie,” you interject with a similar tone. “I’m okay.”

“You heard her, Stevie. She’s fine!” Robin retorts, curling her maroon-tinted lips into a smirk. She scoffs out a laugh and gestures up to the fake haunt across the street. “This shit is basically for kids. No one’s dying here, alright?”

You know what she’s doing. She’s sticking up for you and taking the piss out of her best friend at the same time. It’s nothing new — hell, it’s her favorite hobby. She’s got your back now the same way she had it in that house last spring. 

But still, her words sting a little.

Because she’s right. This place is for kids. And you still feel a bit like you’re dying.

Steve knows this, too. He knows everything about you. Even the stuff you wish he didn’t.

His sneakers scuff against the pavement when he turns to Robin. His eyes narrow in a challenging squint as he crosses his arms over his chest. He doesn’t look quite as intimidating as usual in his fluffy, cable-knit sweater. 

“Well, you know what? I’m scared, actually. I don’t wanna do it, okay? You got me, Rob.”

The girl grins something cynical. She shakes her head all slow, like she’s just caught him in some kind of lie. “I knew it. You little baby.”

Steve lets her tease him. It’s not like he isn’t used to it by now. He just rolls his eyes and bears it, lets her laugh about it with the rest of the group as they head towards the haunted house. 

You watch with an attentive gaze while they head inside, flinching softly when you hear a thunderous boom and the sound of their screaming a second later. It leaves you secretly grateful that you hadn’t gone in behind them. 

A wavering sigh tumbles from your lips, a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

Steve exhales a gentle laugh from beside you. He smooths a wide palm up your spine and down again. He leans over to press the side of his hip against yours.

You cross your arms over your chest to make yourself as small as possible while you glance over at the boy beside you. You look at him so far beneath your lashes you’re basically peering at him from the corner of your eye.

“Thank you,” is all you say. It’s all you need to say.

Steve shrugs with a plush, crooked grin. “’S okay. I know you’re too sweet to say no, so…”

“I wanted to do it,” you confess, clearing your throat when your voice breaks.

“I know.”

“I guess I’m not… as used to everything as I thought.”

“I know,” Steve repeats. His hand curls around your waist and makes a home in the very center of it. He pulls you closer with the urge to melt into you. His brows raise, eyes sparkling when his smile widens. “But that’s why I’m here, though, right? We’re gonna get better together.”

You nod up at him, smiling more sincerely now. 

Arms still crossed, your hands ball into fists to fight the urge to smooth a hand through his hair — to push back the rogue chestnut strands hanging over his forehead.

You hesitate, so he beats you to the draw. He swipes a golden hand over his head right before he leans down to kiss you. 

He smacks a sweet peck to your smile. A bright light flashes with another thunderous boom a moment later. You flinch and pull back. You swear you hear Eddie screaming, “jesus fucking christ!” from the upper story. You forget to be scared.

You didn’t think it was possible. The whole getting better thing.

Steve makes you feel like could be.

[evansbby]

𝐋𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐭 (𝒑𝒐𝒚𝒕 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆)

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dark alpha!Steve Rogers x naive omega!reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: spanking, daddy kink, a/b/o dynamics, misogyny, light fingering, biting, gaslighting, manipulation, animalistic behaviour lmao, 18+, minors dni

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Steve teaches you a lesson you’ll never forget.

𝗔/𝗡: This is a POYT drabble featuring Steve and his omega! Enjoy!

“Omega, baby, come here.”

Steve’s voice is stern, despite the pet name. You freeze from where you’re sat, hunched over your boyfriend’s desk where you’ve got a mountain of homework in front of you. You’d been buried up to your nose in textbooks and notes when he’d come home, and all he’d done was sit and watch you for the past ten minutes.

You immediately get up and make your way over to where he’s sat on the edge of his bed. Pointedly, he pats his thigh and you take a seat on his lap.

“What have I told you about what good omegas should do when their alphas come home?” There’s a dangerous edge to his tone as he casually pushes the fabric of your top aside and fingers your bra strap, snapping it against your skin and making you yelp.

“Good omegas greet their alphas at the door with a hug and kiss.” You recite before looking up at him pleadingly (although not for long because he’s scary and you can’t maintain eye contact for long). “B-But Steve, I was doing homework. I got d-distracted, I’m sorry.”

“Mm, see this is why omegas shouldn’t concern themselves with getting degrees.” Steve muses, stroking your hair casually whilst you sit in his lap, rigid as a statue and your heart beating like crazy. “So busy with schoolwork that you forgot your duty as an omega.”

“I’m sorry.” You bow your head in shame. You can feel the disappointment radiating off of him in waves, and it’s having a major effect on you, as usual.

“I’ve been at home ten minutes now and all you did was smile at me and say hey before going back to your work. When really, you should’ve greeted me with the proper respect befitting of an alpha. I thought you knew better, omega.” Steve shakes his head, twirling a strand of your hair on his finger before giving it a harsh tug.

“I should’ve known better, Steve. But there was a lot of work, you see, and—” There’s a part of you that finds it silly, because you have every right to do your homework. And it’s not like you’d ignored him! But the omega part of you burns with shame because you’ve let him down.

“Shut up.” Steve says calmly and you immediately bow your head again, only to look up when he gives your ass a harsh pinch. “Well? What are you waiting for? Give your alpha a welcome home kiss.”

Heart pitter-pattering, you angle up and tip your head back, pecking his warm lips softly. And it feels so nice, a large part of you just wants to continue kissing, just melt into him and feel his arms around you. Just make out with him forever because it gives you butterflies and he’s such a good kisser.

But Steve doesn’t kiss you back, and you’re too shy to initiate anything. So you pull back and duck your head. The alpha energy exuding from him is making you feel heady and extra submissive, so all you can think to do now is stay put and wait till he gives you permission to go back to your schoolwork.

But the glint in Steve’s eye shows that he has other plans.

“Stand up.” He commands you softly and you do as he says, standing between his legs with the rug soft against your bare feet. “Pull your leggings down. Panties too.”

You blink. He wanted to have sex? Well, that wasn’t surprising since Steve always wanted sex. It didn’t matter where you were, what time it was or what mood he was in.

You do as you’re told, feeling the cool air against your bare legs as you strip. It’s strange though, usually Steve takes your clothes off for you (something about how it’s an Alpha’s job to undress his omega). You wonder why this time is different—

“Bend over my lap.”

You blink before realisation seeps through your brain, and you see his hand flexing and waiting by his side. Oh no. He couldn’t possibly be wanting to spank you, could he??

Instinctively, you shake your head. “S-Steve, please, I said I was sorry! Please! I won’t do it again!” You desperately think of all the ways you can make it up to him. Cook him his favourite dinner and dessert? And maybe a big breakfast spread tomorrow? You had an assignment due the next day but you could ask for an extension if it meant keeping your alpha happy.

But Steve’s handsome features remain stoic. “Get over my knee, omega. And if you make me repeat myself one more time, there’ll be hell to pay for you.”

You find yourself over his knee and face to face with the bedsheets, quivering in his arms as he lifts your oversized t shirt up. You suck in your breath when you feel the expanse of his hand stroking your ass.

“I’m punishing you because you deserve it.” His voice is deathly calm and it frightens you. “And maybe after this is over, you’ll learn to be a good omega and get your priorities straight.”

Never in your life had you been spanked before. Sure, Steve liked to slap your ass all the time; during sex or even casually in public. But this was different, being bent over the knee of your alpha like you were some kind of chastised child, your body stripped away of any sort of autonomy as it surrenders to him.

“I’ll be nice to you, since you’re a baby and it’s your first ever spanking after all.” Steve smirks, hand still stroking and squeezing your ass, “I’ll only give you ten smacks, although you deserve more than double that amount for forgetting to greet me. But I’m not heartless, so you better thank me for being nice.”

You sniff, feeling like a child who got caught with her hand in the cookie jar — despite the fact that your offence wasn’t even that bad! But you feel so submissive, so you nod sadly and give in to your fate. “Th-Thank you for being nice.”

SMACK.

His hand cracks down on your bare ass, hard as a whip and you cry out in shock and pain. That hurt! But Steve is unperturbed by your pain, giving your searing ass cheek a rough squeeze. “That was for not addressing me properly.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, “I’m sorry…Thank you for being nice, daddy.”

Steve sighs, leisurely stroking your ass while you lay over his knee with bated breath, never knowing when the next blow will happen. “God, you have such a pretty baby ass.” He grabs one cheek lewdly and gives it a jiggle, “So cute and round, practically begging for a smack.”

He’s taking his sweet time, and it’s too intense, and you can’t help but look up at him pleadingly, “S-Steve, please, I said I was sor—”

“Shut the fuck up!” Steve says sharply, pinching your butt meanly, and you cry out in pain. “You’re not making this any easier for yourself, omega. I know you’re a dumb little baby who’s scared but that doesn’t mean you get to skip out on punishments. Keep your eyes on the floor, and if you look up at me again, I swear I’ll use my belt.”

The threat has your heart racing and palms sweating, and you look back down as Steve resumes playing with your ass. His expert fingers know exactly how to touch you, stroke your skin, pinch and prod you till you’re panting and trying to squeeze your thighs together. You’re still scared but you can’t help but feel your wetness seeping down your legs (and onto his thigh).

SMACK.

His palm collides with your ass harder than the first time, and you cry out, fisting the bedsheets and biting your lip.

“Count for me, baby.” He commands you, “and thank me after each one.”

“O-One.” You cry softly. “Thank you, d-daddy.”

SMACK.

Another hard blow, and you swallow harshly because it hurts already and you still have eight more to go, and you can’t help but sob, “Two. Thank you, daddy.”

“Aww, crying already, baby?” Steve coos, stroking your burning ass. “And just remember, I’m going easy on you. Next time you slip up, it’ll be the paddle or my belt.”

The punishment continues, smack after smack cracking down on your ass till you’re writhing in pain, crying as the tears flow freely down your face, and Steve has to use his other leg to pin you down and keep you in place as the burning pain is proving too much to handle.

“Gonna bruise your little ass up real good, omega.” He promises you, voice deep with lust. You can feel his dick, angry and hard through his jeans, poking up against your stomach.

“Fuck, you don’t even know how bad I’ve been wanting to teach you a lesson like this.” He gives your ass cheek another jiggle, squeezing it hard as if it’s a toy. “Before I’d claimed you, when I’d see you walking around, bending over to pick something up, your cute little ass poking out for everyone to see.”

SMACK. This slap is harder than ever, and you sob as you count and thank him, barely getting the words out as Steve grows more and more excited.

“And everyone would fucking stare at you.” He continues darkly, stopping his assault and instead stroking the sizzling skin of your backside, getting dangerously close to your slippery core.

“And like the dumb omega you are, you never even noticed. Fuck, I should’ve pulled you aside and fucking smacked your ass raw right there in the middle of campus, in front of all of them. Maybe then they’d have realised you were never a free piece of ass to begin with.”

SMACK.

You cry and cry as he has his way with you, his palm colliding with your sensitive ass over and over again. And the force of each smack has your clit — all puffed up and engorged — rub deliciously against the material of his jeans. The rough denim creates friction against your bundle of nerves, mixing a dangerous cocktail of burning pain and pleasure within you as your cream leaks down his leg.

“Tell me who this little baby ass belongs to, omega.” Steve orders you between smacks.

“You!”

“Say it again. Louder. Tell me exactly who owns your sweet little ass.”

“Daddy! You own my ass, you own it!” You sob, hoping it’ll be over because you’ve counted more then ten smacks now. In fact, you’ve lost count.

But Steve is still incensed, raining smack after smack down on your poor rear end — even though he’d promised only ten! But you can’t argue with him, can’t protest. All you can do is cry and take the assault.

“Damn right. You’re my fucking omega and that means I can beat your little ass whenever the fuck I want, you hear me? And you’re just a weak little baby, so just shut the fuck up and take it.”

He alternates between both your ass cheeks, landing blow after blow before coming to a sudden stop. You sniffle, the tears blurring your vision and the pain mixed with the desire between your legs making you heady. Steve spreads your ass cheeks slowly, pressing a probing finger against your puckered hole.

You gasp, the unfamiliar feeling of his finger there sending sparks down to your core. But all he does is trail downwards, dangerously close to your pussy which throbs with need.

“P-Please.” You garble through your tears, earning another hefty slap.

Steve leisurely swirls his finger through your dripping wet folds, gathering your sticky cream and spreading up on your burning ass.

“Wet from a spanking.” He whistles lowly, “how slutty can you get, omega? Does getting hit make you horny? Huh?” He gives you another hard slap, “I asked you a question, baby. Does getting spanked make your little pussy wet?”

“Yes!” You sob, “Steve! Daddy, please!” And you don’t even know what you’re begging for. For him to stop spanking you? For him to touch you down there? You don’t know, but you just feel so needy, all the sensations clouding your judgement as Steve’s attention goes back to your ass.

“I’m not even close to done with you.” Steve murmurs before licking his palm and cracking down on your poor ass cheek once more, the sound reverberating off the walls as you cry in pain. “I’ll make sure you can’t sit straight for a week, baby. Maybe that’ll teach you to be the dutiful little omega you were always meant to be.”

SMACK.

SMACK.

SMACK.

Your rear end feels fiery and numb at the same time, Steve’s onslaught never-ending as he alternates between smacks and pinches. Your flesh feels sore and abused, and Steve’s boner only grows harder underneath you.

“Mine. All fucking mine.” Steve growls, his blows growing more animalistic. And then, with a rumble from his chest, he leans down over you. And before you know what’s happening, you howl in pain when you feel his teeth clamp down on the sizzling flesh of your ass, biting down hard as if your ass is a piece of meat.

His bite is so hard, so animalistic, that you know he’s drawn blood. And you know it’ll leave a mark on the sensitive skin of your backside. But he doesn’t care, clamping down hard while his strong arms hold you in place. And when he finally detaches his teeth from your skin, he licks it all up. Licking stripes up and down your ass, practically devouring it as if it’s a toy for him to use and abuse how he pleases.

“Mine.” Steve whispers against your fiery hot flesh, ignoring your cries as he nuzzles his face against your ass, teeth grazing against the sizzling, broken skin as if he’s tempted to bite you again. As if he’s been taken over by some kind of wild beast inside him, one that wants to claim you in the rawest, most animalistic way possible. Instead, he licks and sucks and nips at your flesh, “Don’t you fucking disrespect me like that again, baby. I can do so much more damage than this.”

SMACK.

The final blow is harder than any of the ones before it, like the crack of a whip on your backside, leaving you crying harder than ever before.

And then he jolts you upwards so you’re sat on his knee, and the contact between your ass and the rough denim has you sobbing and sobbing in pain, feeling all sorts of vulnerable and submissive and scared.

“Y-You said… Y-You said only ten!” You sob in his arms. Your ass is on fire and you feel like he’d smacked you about thirty times at least.

“I know, baby.” Steve sounds surprisingly gentle but you can hear the smirk in his voice. “But as your alpha, I need to have a firm hand. And I knew you wouldn’t learn your lesson with just ten spanks. Daddy knows what’s best for you, baby. And don’t you have anything to say to me now?”

“I’m s-s-sorry, I’m so s-sorry!” You burst out, only wanting his approval. It’s like his spanking has broken something inside you, making you feel like you need his approval and forgiveness or else you’ll die. “W-Won’t do it again, daddy, I pr-promise.”

Steve smiles as he smooths your hair back, before casually gathering your tears on his finger when he strokes your cheeks. “You better hope you don’t do it again. Next time I come home, I expect you to greet me at the door, you got that?”

You nod desperately through your tears, heart thudding in your chest when finally, Steve hugs you close, giving your tear-stained cheek a soft kiss while he holds you and allows you to sob into his chest, repeating the words ‘I’m sorry’ over and over again.

“And look, you’ve made a huge mess on my jeans.” Steve tsks, and he’s got a glint in his eye as he surveys the huge wet spot on his thigh. You duck your head in shame, burying your face in his shoulder because you feel all small and vulnerable and afraid. “I should take you over my knee again, baby, for making such a mess.”

“Please no!” You sob quietly, wanting to be held and hugged by him but too shy and distraught and in pain to ever voice this desire. “ ‘m sorry, Steve. D-Didn’t mean to, it just happened.”

Steve continues to stroke your head as if you’re his little pet, pressing kisses on your hairline while his arms hug you tightly. And you know he’s the reason your ass is on fire right now, but it’s still this gentle touch from him that you crave. You feel so especially needy, wanting to cling to him like a koala.

“You’re lucky I’m feeling nice today, omega.” He tells you, standing up and picking you up along with him. “Now tell me, do you want to go back to studying?”

You glance back at your textbooks, strewn open and dejected on his desk, before immediately shaking your head, burying your face into his chest once more and holding onto him tightly. Your brain feels scrambled and disoriented, your ass feels numb with pain, and the omega inside you is crying to stay in your alpha’s arms. Studying would have to wait.

Steve smiles, the wicked glint in his eyes still present. “That’s my good girl. Always remember that I come first.” He presses his lips against yours and you welcome the kiss, desperately kissing him back and clutching his sweater as he holds you close.

“I’ll run us a bath, baby. See, daddy has to discipline you, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be nice too.”

A/N: SKDJSKSKSKA IDEK YALL!!! WHAT DO U THINK ???

[azulsluver]

I just binge read your bully au for twst and OMG! What if MC ends up cracking, going numb to protect themselves. They still do as told, but they have sky eyes, no emotion. Who would keep pushing to see them fully break, or who would just dump them like trash!?! Hell, who would enjoy them losing the fight in them!

tw: yandere, bully!characters, blood mention, unhealthy relationships/behavior, victim blaming.

Disclaimer, you don’t actually want this n stay safe from people like this!

Continue tormenting for fun:

Leona

Doesn't take you seriously. That's it? You're giving up already, gosh you really can't do anything by yourself...Leona is less than disappointed, in fact he knew good things would come to an end. But you still serve some purpose to him, Leona can't find himself to throw away his favorite toy, some things are just meant worth keeping. Even when broken and used.

Sebek

I don't think he'd catch on very quick, how you follow his instructions yet when the heel of his boot hits your back you make no sound of pain. Sebek should've known humans were too weak to handle his training, being pushed a little really got you that gone? This will only give Sebek the advantage to harm you further, he likes taking his frustration out on you without you screaming.

Lilia

You lasted longer than the others, and he'll applause you for that. Lilia doesn't necessarily hate this new you, embracing it but continues to see just exactly how far you can go. You're only in a shell, and he's not dumb, Lilia will stare longingly into your hollowed orbs, there is still a hint of you. Hiding away from him, Lilia is only fueled to either have you brain dead or back.

Rook

You're absolutely divine, he'll say as he wipes the trickling blood on your lips. You can't fool Rook with those dead-beat eyes, in fact this new look is beautiful. Rook craves for more of this expression you possess, he's seen you smile and cry, he wants to unravel more until you actually break. Rook has done some research on how the human mind can shut down when pushed into pressure, the thought of your alive yet corpse like body not instructing as told, he knows you're still in there.

Jamil

Jamil is conflicted with himself, you're alive but not yourself. A part of him enjoys the fact you won't refuse his affections. But did he really want this? Don't get this the wrong way, Jamil still prefers to beat you into submission, a sick part of him loves you so much yet he can't reciprocate his feelings to you. Understanding that this new you, will help ease his overwhelming emotions, he doesn't need to pretend anymore. Your clouded eyes are what he loves best.

Vil

Recents posts of him explain that Vil absolutely needs you just to take his anger out on. He’s in love with you no doubt, but embarrassment shames him from normally communicating with you. So even if you were emotionless he’d find some use, because he can’t get rid of you no matter how badly beaten your skin is. It’s you, and he’ll have no other person.

Epel

Didn’t know how to react at first. Epel kicks you a couple of times to see how you’d react. I think he because you aren’t responding to any of his criticisms does he ponder. He’s smitten with you, creating a fake narrative on his behavior that what he’s doing is ok, when he’s well aware it isn’t. Keeps you around because your nice to relieve stress from, doesn’t mind if you aren’t screaming and crying.

Toss them away (but he'll start thinking about you then wants you back eventually):

Jade

What a shame...he knew it was a bad idea to share with Floyd. You broke so easily, so fast, just when things were getting good. What good of an experiment if they give the same reaction, you aren't screaming as much as he expected. And the worse part is you listen to exactly what he asks for, there is no hesitation or breaking down to crying, you really are willing to cut off your hand? How boring.

Floyd

Frustrated, acts as if he didn't expected this to happen. Floyd is throwing a huge tantrum once he finds out you don't kick or scream at him. He misses the terror in your eyes when he asks you a question of such, now you're giving him a blank look! Not safe to say, if Azul or Jade wasn't there, you would've been dead for good, Floyd can't handle the fact his shrimpy is lame now. Out of pure anger, he would let his feelings get the best of him.

Kalim

At first he wouldn't notice your change of behavior. But that spark in you is gone now, Kalim doesn't want broken things. You were fun to play with, because he usually got high off the power he held over you, his stress toy won't even give him a proper bark. I mean you do bark, just not with enough enthusiasm. Like a fussing child, Kalim would have you thrown out, until he starts to miss having you beside his feet....

Cater

Makes the saddest noise when he notices how little you react to his touches. Slaps your cheeks a couple of times to make sure. Dramatically mourns over your past self before rudely telling you how you weren’t gonna last long with him either way. It’s been a nice ride with you he says, leaving with a kiss on the forehead. It’s cruel but depressing, because on his end he’s up at night staring at the photos of your more lively self. He misses those terrified eyes..

Enjoys the new MC and somewhat stops:

Riddle

The fire within you finally died, no more to fuel to feed. Just burnt ashes laying pitifully on the floor, grimy and unusual. Riddle is relived, he had proved a point to himself. All of his hard work to make you into the perfect person, docile and understanding. Riddle now has no reason to push you, you're at your fullest degree. You do as told, and no one gets hurt, physically and emotionally. (he's just like his mom frfr)

Ace

At a sense of peace. Once Ace understands that you are no longer you but a fragment he's thrilled. His mean names slowly die down, much more softer and cheesy when talking to you. If you're still there, disgusted or not he'd lay his head on your shoulder and mumble to you how much of a coward he was to confess. But all went well, the paranoia of you rejecting him gone. I mean what else can a lifeless you do?

Deuce

Has no other reason to bully you. You’re doing things just as he wanted and he couldn’t be happier. Like Ace he was paranoid of your rejection. But you don’t stray away from his rough hands massaging your cheek, kisses that bruise your lips. It’s heaven for him, he wouldn’t trade it for anything else.

Malleus

He didn’t think you’d break so fast. Malleus barely lays a hand on you yet his words cut deep. Perhaps you finally learned your place, all that hard work and learning how to court a single-minded human like you payed off. You won’t have to face the wrath of his verbal abuse because he’s nothing but sweet to you. You look lovely no matter how bad it gets.

Ruggie

Ruggie didn’t go extreme measures to hurt you that bad. Maybe he got to you before the others could take advantage of your newfound persona. Like he always do, Ruggie takes care of things. By things he means you. Sure you’re practically not yourself anymore but it’s still you in some shape and form. His words won’t mean nothing to damage you, so now you’ll be taken under his care. Best person to be with in this situation.

Idia

Shitty attitude stopped so quick. Was leaning more to tossing you away but Idia gets attached quickly. He would never admit but you’re his favorite pastime everything, he can’t ditch you. So eventually all of his bullying stop because there is nothing to get a reaction from. Much more calmer and talkative around you. It’s nice knowing you aren’t actively judging him as he talks, no cover ups to be douche.

Jack

Once the numbers of people targeting you goes down does he step in. Jack is worried, genuinely. I think reader being emotionless snaps something inside of him, does he claim to protect you fully and run away from everyone else. His guilt that you turned out this way eats him, but he downs it out by telling himself you brought too much attention now he must clean the mess up.

Silver

There is a good case scenario if Malleus wasn’t so attached to you and Sebek left you alone!! Lilia can see how devastated Silver is once he finds out your condition. You’re almost lifeless, Lilia let’s Silver care for you because he finally found the guts to ask. Silver tends to your needs, all those years of standing from afar and watching you get hurt somewhat paid off. You’re dependent on him and he doesn’t wanna admit how good it feels.

Trey

Settles down like some retired man. He’s happy you found peace and stop causing trouble. You’ll be in his full care now, sure he’ll have his usual sadistic tendencies but it’s much more tame and softer. He doesn’t mind however if you come back to him all bruised and sore, he will feed and clothe you back to health. Over and over again. At least he stops his bullying behavior for a while.

[anxiousnerdwritings]

Lol, love the Himbo!/Bimbo!Granger!Sibling! Concept, I can imagine the same idea with the teachers/Dumbledore as well but it's just a Student Darling that's a total Bimbo!/Himbo! and the teachers/Dumbledore just let them get away with being wrong on basically everything, even Snape lmao

Himbo!/Bimbo!Student!Darling: Aw shucks, I failed the test again! 😢

Yandere!Teacher: *Takes the paper away and raises the grade just enough for their Darling to pass because of favoritism and rewriting the answers to make them correct enough to pass and gives the test back to Darling* My apologies, it seems I've made a mistake.

Himbo!/Bimbo!Student!Darling: Yay! I passed! 🤩

Also the concept of the other students witnessing the whole thing and not even minding it cause they also fell for their Himbo!/Bimbo!Student!Darling! Because of how charming, innocent, and naive they are over everything around them and even helping them with questions from teachers like:

Yandere!McGonagall: "What item cannot be conjured, mr/mrs reader?"

Himbo!/Bimbo!Student!Darling: 😶

Himbo!/Bimbo!Student!Darling: *Suddenly feels poking from next to them and glances at Hermine who gestures with their eyes to look at the paper she slid to them* Food!

Yandere!McGonagall: *Even though she noticed what was actually happening she only smiled proudly at her Darling* Correct. 5 points to (reader's) house.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yandere!Snape: What are fluxweed and Boomslang skin used for, mr/mrs reader?

Himbo!/Bimbo!Student!Darling: 💀

*Draco coughs out the answer behind you, trying to make it not obvious that he's helping you but Snape already knows what's going on*

Himbo!/Bimbo!Student!Darling: Polyjuice?

Yandere!Snape:....Correct

The students even help out with homework and tests if not even doing it for them instead and tricking the Darling into believing that they did all of the work by themselves, and the teachers/Dumbledore don't even care either!

The Himbo!/Bimbo!Student!Darling has no idea how much power they have over all of the faculty as well as the students just by existing, everything is handed to them without even knowing lmao

Ooohhhh~~ I absolutely love this!!!

I can’t help but imagine Himbo/Bimbo!Student!Reader having completely forgotten doing a piece of homework for whichever subject and tells the teacher or is trying to look for it in their school bag thinking they may have ended up doing it but just misplaced it only for the teacher or a student next to/near them to “find it” for them when in reality it’s a copied version that the teacher or student themself magically conjured up for the Reader to still get participation in the class with the added bonus of a passing grade.

I really love the idea of Himbo/Bimbo!Student!Reader knowing they aren’t very academically gifted or even the bare minimum and desperately wanting to try their best on their own but their just struggling so much. And everyone around them, teachers and students alike, just feel so bad seeing the poor Reader beating themself up about it but still trying to give it their best. That’s when ever so slowly the teachers and students individually come to their own conclusions of needing to help the Reader without making it seem like their doing it for them. The first time a teacher or student helped out the Reader, whether it was botching a grade or sneakily slipping a correct answer for the Reader to give, and the absolute beaming joy that Himbo/Bimbo!Reader radiated when they got something right or they got a good grade on something is more than enough for the teachers and students to do it all over again and again.

Like, I can’t help but imagine Himbo/Bimbo!Student!Reader staying up and studying in the library more often then not, the countless times Madam Pince or a school prefect has come across the Reader passed out with a pile of opened books scattered around them that could even put Hermione to shame and the poor Reader sleepily mumbling that they just need to keep studying for a few more minutes. But no matter how long the Reader forces themself to study or them even seeking out tutoring from their smartest classmates/fellow students, the Reader just can’t make any sense of the curriculum all on their own.

Just a thought but what if Himbo/Bimbo!Student!Reader is a pureblood who’s grown up all their life around magic and everything magic related and their parents being very strict/hard on the Reader to strive to be something great in the magical world. And that’s why they’re so distressed and trying their very best to study and at the very least get some kind of understanding or familiarity with their studies. Or maybe the Reader could even be muggle and still have an overbearing family who puts too much pressure on them when it comes to their academics. It started with their muggle studies growing up and has only gotten worse with their magical studies, at least Himbo/Bimbo!Student!Reader felt like they had more of a chance with their muggle studies but now they feel completely overwhelmed with everything going on around them in the magical world and are still trying to get their bearings but that doesn’t stop them from still going about being their happy go lucky and kind self.

Going with the Reader having an overbearing and academically strict family, imagine the yan!teachers’ and yan!students’ reactions to witnessing for themselves/hearing that the Reader’s boggart is their own parent being absolutely disappointed/angry with them for not being smarter, even going as far as calling the Reader a disappointment to the family for not doing better. The whole school would be ready to throw hands with the Reader’s parents.

[sencrose]

— END OF THE LINE

part of the bully!naoya collection

pairing: naoya zenin x f!reader

tags: NONCON, forced masturbation, groping, humiliation, degradation, train sex, public/exhibitionism, dacryphilia, analplay, spit as lube, creampie, minimal prep, reader’s rly going through it

wc: 1.4k

“Please stand clear of the doors.” The monotone yet familiar voice of the subway’s automated messages echo throughout the train. Nothing ever changes on your commute. There are three consistencies that you’ve grown used to over the years. One, it’s crowded. Two, there are never any seats by the time you get on, so you stand. And three, it’s uneventful. 

Unfortunately, consistencies are not equal to guarantees.

You shuffle your way to the nearest available handle, grabbing it while trying to make yourself smaller as other passengers squeeze past you and reposition themselves. It feels more cramped than usual, but it’s nothing you can’t adapt to. Dozens of people enter and leave at each stop and you’re shoved around more than you’d like. It doesn’t matter anyway, you’ve grown used to this. In the midst of this frenzy, someone pushes right against your back, so you adjust accordingly and take a small step forward.

They follow.

They’re pressed harder against your back now, hand tracing the curve of your waist before heading lower, lower until it flips up the hem of your skirt. Your breath is caught in your throat, your heart beating harder with each second. This can’t be happening, right? Maybe you’re just imagining this. But when you pull down on the hem of the fabric, the stranger’s hand pulls up.

You look back in horror to see a familiar face, one that makes your skin crawl. Naoya smirks in amusement as your eyes widen in panic. One arm wraps around your waist to bring you closer to him, the other slipping into your underwear to rub lazily around your clit.

“Let go of me please.” Your voice trembles with each word, your gaze nervously shifting between Naoya’s face and his hand on your cunt. He’s getting off on this sick sense of pleasure from teasing you, his smile growing as he takes in the sight of you: the tremble of your lip, the tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

“And why would I do that?”

Your hand shakes as you attempt to move his hand away from your cunt, only for him to grab it. His fingers wrap around yours, shoving your hand into your underwear. You can’t escape his grip as he forces you to play with yourself, tracing circles around your clit. You bite down on your lip, doing your best to quell any lewd noises leaving your mouth. 

“Look at you, playing with yourself in front of all these people. Have you no shame?” His breath is unpleasantly warm against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. Naoya presses harder against you, heat emanating from his pants as his clothed erection rubs against your ass. 

You don’t want to give in to the growing pleasure in your core, not around this many people and certainly not at the hands of Naoya.

“Don’t be shy now.” His finger hooks into your mouth, another pressing down on your tongue. You choke out heavy breaths, doing your best to keep your voice down to no avail. Naoya’s hand goes lower, forcing two of your fingers (and his) into your hole.

“You’re this wet? Always knew you were a slut.”

“I-I’m not, please just stop-”

“And waste this?” He pulls his fingers away from your slit for a second, bringing them closer to your face. You watch in horror as he splits his fingers apart, your arousal thinning out before breaking apart. “Don’t think so.”

The sound of rustling fabric and a belt unbuckling makes your stomach drop. Naoya’s finger pulls aside your underwear as he slides his cock up and down on your folds.

“N-no, please don’t, I-”

“P-please don’t what?” He pouts sarcastically, mimicking your stutter before slowly inserting himself into you.

The stretch burns as you nearly yell in pain before covering your mouth and biting down on the skin of your palm. Naoya takes his time, savoring each inch entering your warm cunt and groaning once he finally bottoms out.

“You’ll have to be more specific than that, sweetheart.” he retorts sarcastically, emphasizing the pet name with an artificial sweetness.

His first thrust hits deep, knocking the air out of your lungs. You want nothing more than to scream at him to stop, but knowing him, it’d only get his cock harder. Each thrust feels harder than the last, as if he’s trying to force a cry out of you. You can barely keep yourself on your toes as he fucks into you, loud, wet noises of skin slapping echoing throughout the train. As he continues, the pain subsides and an undeniable pleasure starts to take its place, one you don’t want to indulge.

“Come on, let everyone hear what a pathetic little slut you are.” His hand swipes your hand away from your mouth, allowing everyone on the train to hear your soft hiccups mixed in with moans. Some wandering eyes catch wind of what’s going on, but nobody intervenes. They step away or avert their gazes if your eyes meet theirs. To your horror, everyone refuses to acknowledge what’s happening.

Your heart drops as you feel a finger prodding at your asshole, threatening to penetrate.

“You won’t mind if I have some fun with this, right?” You can hear the smile in his voice before he spits on his fingers and rubs the tight ring of muscle. You twitch involuntarily, the viscous liquid feeling uncomfortable and foreign against your skin.

“No, no, I’ve never d-done anything like this before, please!” You beg, hoping to garner even a modicum of sympathy. Any hope you had fizzles out with his response.

“Please? Well, if you say so.”

The feeling is unfamiliar, unwelcome all the less. His finger feels foreign as it enters, a stretch that causes tears to run down your cheeks, a scream that dies in your throat. He unceremoniously inserts another as you bite down on your lip to ground yourself, nearly drawing blood from the force.

His lips hover over the crook of your neck, you can feel them curl into a smile before he bites down on the skin. You can’t hold your sobs back, coughs and hiccups interlaced between your cries.

“Cry more for me. It really gets me going.” he growls into your ear before thrusting harder.

You wouldn’t be able to stop your tears if you tried. You can barely see anything in front of you with them blurring your vision but it’s probably for the best. Unfortunately, being blind to your surroundings only intensifies your senses. The slick sounds of your cunt being fucked rings louder in your ears, the stretch from his fingers sting a little bit more. But the more he plays with you, the more your body gets used to being used.

You hate the pleasure that keeps growing with him hitting your deepest spots, ones you never had the chance of exploring yourself. It’s too much, overwhelming as he scissors his fingers inside your ass while thrusting into your cunt. It’s a battle of mind against body as you try to ignore the pleasure building in your core. Your breath only gets shorter, head lighter until the pressure comes to a head. You can’t hold back any longer as you come undone, legs trembling as your walls squeeze and contract around his cock. You barely recognize the lewd noises spilling from your lips, garnering the attention of a few passengers.

“Fuck, it’s like you’re begging me to cum inside you. You want that, don’t you?”

You have no response, can’t give a response when your brain has been turned to mush, your body spent from overstimulation. The noises that escape you sound more like agreeable moans than cries of resistance, and Naoya treats them as such.

“I’m glad you’ve learned your place.”

His pace quickens until he finishes with one last thrust, cock twitching as it paints your walls with his seed. The moment he removes himself from you entirely, your legs give out on you as you gracelessly drop onto the floor. 

“This is the end of the line. All passengers must exit at this time. Connections to…” The monotone voice sounds unfamiliar as it echoes throughout an emptying train, well past your usual stop, as all of the passengers scatter to exit. Naoya hovers over you, looking down on you with a dark gaze and a sly grin.

 “Maybe I’ll take the train more often.”

[ghostfacesvalentine]

Comfort - Bruce Wayne x Fem!reader

Pairing: Battinson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Slight angst, not really, sad reader.

Type: Blurb

Request: N/A

Word Count: N/A

Prompt: Bruce kind of comforting reader after having a mood drop lol

Notes: I can’t really sleep, I’ve been having the same mood drops I thought I was over, so I just wrote this to cheer me up. If you struggle with the same thing, I hear you, here’s a little battison to hug you.

For years it seemed like it wasn’t going to get better. To say you didn’t know how to navigate through your feelings was an understatement. You weren’t really sure what was happening, or what made you feel the way you did. 

Even on the best days, sometimes these mood drops were unpredictable. Suddenly the world starts to slow down and you felt like you’re just there. 

It felt like it wasn’t a big deal, it was something you always experienced and you tended to deal with it by isolating yourself until you felt good enough to go back out. The last thing you wanted was to plague anyone with some kind of silly feelings that would go just as they came.

Though you felt crazy to assimilate your relationship this way, it seemed like that’s why you and Bruce got along so well. It wasn’t far fetched to wonder if he felt the same way. As your relationship developed with him, spending the night became religious. You were almost a stranger to your own apartment, finding warmth and safety in his bruised arms. 

Tonight, you had the same feeling crawling into you. A bitter sting tainted your veins, spreading quickly throughout your body. It seemed like over the years your body would just succumb to the sentiment. The unease caused you to shoot up from the familiar black sheets. 

Bruce was hardly a heavy sleeper, but you didn’t blame him for being a stone after the day of living a double life today. Some days it really did catch up to him, board meetings by day, beating bad guys by night. 

You had the luxury of choosing the room you wanted to hide in tonight, usually it was the study. It was warm and comforting, the hug you needed tonight. 

The room was dimly lit, scattered papers and book decorated the shelves and the fair sized desk. You crawled into the massive chair that hid behind the computer, bringing your legs up to your chest, layering a blanket over your body. 

For one reason or another, this always seemed to be a habit of yours. If you couldn’t run away from your feelings or confront them, your mind tricked you into just going to another room. Almost as if that would solve the issue, but deep down you knew it didn’t, however it seemed like your mind didn’t know any better, did it?

Bitter thoughts galloped through you, the same feeling of defeat in hand with your despair. You loved Bruce, more than anything, but because of this you told yourself you could handle this on your own.

You hated hiding from him, hiding anything from him. All it took was his eyes meeting yours, he could get anything out of you. Looking away from him was always a dead giveaway. Your hands rubbed your arms, crossing themselves in hopes of tricking yourself that you were being hugged by anyone other than yourself. Sometimes, the feeling would just push your chest downward, almost like you were completely giving up.

A thick hand appeared on your knee, your eyes followed it back to Bruce, then looking down in shame. “I can’t sleep.” You half admitted as if he was determined to get a response as to why you disappeared from him.

Again, it was useless to try to hide anything from him, it was his literal job to put clues together. However, there was a silence that felt easy, maybe it was the way he looked at you. Without any fine lines across his brows, instead almost a pout of worry. His hand never gripping you, instead offering itself to you as a sincere gesture. After spending so much time with him, it was only a matter of time to learn a few skills from him, to study him.

You lightly rubbed your bottom lip between your teeth, pursing you lip in hopes of alleviating any lingering discomfort. Your eyes couldn’t find where to look anymore, until you felt Bruces’ arms reach down to cradle your figure.

Still unwilling to look him in the eye, you looked down to your thighs as the blanket draped itself down to the carpet floor. Feeling the softest kiss on the side of your head, you closed your eyes.

“It’s not your fault this happens sweetheart.”

He murmured into your face. His voice still sleepy yet so full of patience and warmth. Did he know? Of course he knew.

Your eyes turned to anywhere but him as he walked you back over to his inviting bed, with a messy comforter as evidence of a safe and warm place to rest. He didn’t say anything else, he didn’t need to.

His fingertips rubbed against your skin in an assuring manner. You didn’t know if you wanted to cry or just go back to bed, your eyebrows knit together in frustration with yourself.

“You mean the world to me Y/N. And it pains me to see you run and hide from me.”

There was a long pause, still being held in front of the bed, you looked down to your hands, feeling the droplets coat your cheeks. Trying not to make a sound, you tucked your lips into yourself, your eyes squeezing shut in the process as the whimpering slowly approached.

“If you need time to yourself, that’s fine, but please don’t run away.” Bruce almost begged as he slowly placed you down on the edge of the bed. Your head dropped down in defeat.

“Baby.”

You flickered your lids before looking up to him, you’ve never seen him with such concern and compassion in his eyes, all across his face. He looked like he would do anything for you right then and there. Nodding, you rubbed the back of your hand across your cheeks quickly.

“I love you, okay? Let that be clear. No matter what you’re feeling or what you’re dealing with.” Bruce’s’ hand cradled the back of your head, he slowly pulled it towards him, pressing his lips against your forehead. He stood there for a moment, closing his eyes in a silly attempt to take the sadness away.

“I love you too.” You whispered just enough for him to hear. His fingertips rubbing against your locks felt like the best way to be comforted. You couldn’t imagine a safer, most loving manner to be told you were loved and cared for.

[lace-coffin]

hope your day/night is going well! may i request jason's s/o telling him she wishes they could get married and jason ends up making or finding rings (or something else to symbolize their love, doesnt need to be rings!) and they basically just decide that they're married now?

Jason Vorhees x fem!Reader who wants to get married but knows it’s not possible

Requests are open!

Jason sits perched on the edge of the cabins beaten up sofa, back rod straight and on edge, thick fingers fiddling with themselves in an attempt to sooth. You’d told him you wanted to talk. Jace wasn’t exactly an expert on relationships but that doesn’t sound like a good sign…

“Jay?…Jason? Are you ok honey?”

Whipping his head up as if splashed by cold water he’s back at your attention, ready to listen despite how bad he wants to bolt out the front door. Picking up on his anxiety you scooch closer and take his larger hands into yours, you can feel the clamminess on them, only slightly masking the roughness of his work hardened palms.

“I’m not angry at you, so I don’t want you to worry ok? Can we take some breaths together before we start?”

You pause for a second, cogs turning in your head.

“Come to think of it I’m not sure your lungs actually uhh....function but we can still try, maybe it’ll be therapeutic?” You giggle, patting Jason on the chest. slightly visible curled ears flush a darker shade at the tips behind his mask.

Squeezing his hands in encouragement you take the lead.

“Ok! We’ll try 3 in, hold for 3 and 3 out, is that ok?”

After a moment of hesitation Jason nods, squeezing your hand back, careful not to use too much strength. You start to guide the pair of you through the exercise. You would be lying if you said you weren’t ogling his chest, trying to see if it actually rose as he ‘breathes’ in and out. Unfortunately you couldn’t see through his baggy top and plaid shirt. He never fails to amaze you, everything about him new and interesting. You would never think less of him for things he could or couldn’t do due to his undead status, it was all so perfectly Jason.

Exercise over you let out a breath and decide to start the convocation.

“So, like I said I’m not angry and I still want to be with you, just getting that off the table so you can stop worrying yourself” Jason lets out a (maybe, you still don’t know) simulated sigh of relief. You continue.

“I’ve been thinking…we’ve been dating for a long time and..I know you’re the one I want to be with, you’re the one for me, forever. I just.. wish we could make it official you know?”

Visibly perking up at the praise Jason nods excitedly, making it perfectly clear the feeling is mutual. Getting married had always been something he’d seen for himself as a child, remembering the times his mother would read her romance novels to him before bed if he insisted he couldn’t sleep. He had assumed that once he met his unfortunate end that being wed was out of the realm of possibility, maybe it didn’t have to be that way.

“I would give anything to be yours and have you as mine but i’m pretty certain we can’t get married due to you being..uh… dead”

Even after all this time the words still stung, if only he wasn’t like this or if he was stronger during the accident he could’ve made you his bride. Jason hangs his head in both apology and shame.

Realising this you carefully move to hold the chin of his mask, tilting his head up to meet your eyes.

“Aww don’t beat yourself up jace, I love you undead or not and I wouldn’t have you any other way, it wouldn’t be right. Besides not everyone gets to have a big hunky zombie boyfriend” you tease, guiding the pair of you so you’re cuddling into his side.

Jason huffs a laugh and leans down to bump his mask against your forehead in a makeshift kiss, he knows you love him the way he is, it’s just hard to believe it after enduring so much ridicule in his younger years.

“Love you, big guy”

Jason signs the same back.

Weeks pass and Jason has been taking himself straight to his room after turning in for the evening, checking traps and slaughtering whatever unlucky people enter his property must take a lot out of a guy.

At first you think he’s napping, sure he doesn’t really need to sleep exactly but he’s not excluded from feeling that bone deep exhaustion after a long day, so a nap is usually deserved. He’s especially partial to one if you’re the one coaxing him to come cuddle during it.

That was before you’d checked in, the first couple days you let him be, not wanting to wake him considering he didn’t get much good sleep in general, however,a few days later dinner time rolled around and you needed to wake him. You could always reheat it if he’s still sleepy but it was a pain in the ass with the cabins barely lighting cooker. You knock softly and enter the room, not wanting to spook him from sleep, only to find he’s awake and sat up, crafting something on his makeshift work bench.

Before you can even get a word out he’s shooting up from his chair and practically crowding you out the door , only sighting “one minute” before slamming it closed again, leaving you shocked and confused on the other side.

After a few days of this something finally comes to fruition, unbeknownst to you at the time. Returning back from town to grab a few household items you kick your shoes off and wash your hands, sighing in relief to be home. Jason pops his head out from the bedroom, waving and making his way over to you.

“Dinner is being made, go shower” he signs, hands a little shaky for some reason.

“aw thanks jay! Sure you don’t wanna join?” You chuckle seductively, landing a kiss on his mask. You can’t see the way his deep green skin flushes but you know it’s there.

“I would love to but I have a surprise” he signs out timidly.

“Oh! A surprise! Thats so cute!, ok, I’ll go freshen up and you do whatever you need to ok? I’m sure whatever it is I’m going to love it honey.”

With one last peck you make your way upstairs.

Ok, food is just about done and ready to be served, the table is set, and it sounds like you’ve left the bathroom to get dressed so you should be done soon. Pacing the room Jason tries to make himself busy, setting the record player to play soft music as you dine, a nice touch he’s proud off.

Before he can collect himself you walk downstairs , flowey sundress complete with some light makeup and lipstick to accentuate your pretty lips. You know he goes crazy for that, to be fair he goes crazy for you in a stained t-shirt and underwear but that’s beyond the point.

The hulking man walks quickly to join you at the bottom of the stairs, drinking in your appearance appreciatively.

“You’re gorgeous” he signs and cups your face, running his thumbs across your blushed cheeks.

Gently letting go he takes your hand and leads you to the table, pulling out the chair for you like a proper gentleman and making you giggle. Food is served and it’s amazing. You suppose he would have to learn to cook at some point when living alone all this time. A small frown settles on your face. You hate to think of him being alone all those years. No point worrying about it now, you’ll personally make sure he’s never lonely again.

Dinner passes easily and enjoyably, convocation mostly one sided since Jason needs his hands to hold the cutlery but he’s more than happy to listen. After a brief rest to let the food settle Jason rises again, offering his hand.

“Where we going, handsome?”

“Lake..if you’d like to?”

Your face brightens, he knows you love it down there, you had been there the first time you met. Deciding to watch over the ripples and leave some flowers by the dock. Despite this it’s hard to get Jason down there a lot of the time, rightfully anxious about being around the lake considering what happened. After double checking he’s happy to go you set off to leave. As if struck by something Jason raises a finger to ask you to wait a moment, before retreating back into the bedroom.

After some shuffling around on the other end Jason reappears outside the door, taking your hand and leading you outside.

The sun is just beginning to dip over the lake, orange hue reflecting in the water. You and Jason sit side by side on the dock, your head resting on his shoulder, fingers tracing patterns along Jason’s bigger hands.

“Time for your surprise, close your eyes please?” The way he signs it comes off as more of a plead. You laugh and pat his hand, letting him stand you up and turn you around, placing your hands over your eyes.

“I’m ready, no peaking I promise” you tease. A gentle tap lands on your arm to say “I’m ready” and you open your eyes. The smile instantly drops off your face.

Kneeled below you on the dock is Jason, holding a wooden ring with carved floral details in a dainty jewellery box. Jason had whittled it himself. Albeit painstakingly, his strength wasn’t really built to make small fragile items, but he’d do it for you.

Jason shifts nervously, catching on to your now shocked face, fearing the worst. Seeing this you realise you actually need to react instead of internally celebrating.

Dropping to your knees on the hard wood you practically tackle him, smothering his mask in kisses. You can’t believe he would go this far for you, it’s so sweet and thoughtful it makes you a little teary eyed.

“Of course I’ll marry you Jay!!” You practically shout into his chest, hoping to hide the tears before it turns into an ugly cry. After returning your affections he carefully peels you away from his chest.

“Augh no I look so gross right now” you laugh, wiping a tear away.

Jason shakes his head in disagreement, sliding the ring out of the box and taking your hand into his own. Looking at you for permission.

“Go ahead” you say in awe, eyes tracing over the intricate patterns in the wood and the colour of the glaze. Once the ring is settled comfortably on your finger he produces his own, handing it to you.

“Let’s make this official hm?” You grin, gently placing the ring onto his fingers then placing a kiss on the palm of his hand.

“I know it’s not a “real” marriage but I love you and want you to stay with me until the end” he signs.

“This is more than real to me honey, I love you so so much and I’m absolutely calling you my husband at any given chance now” you laugh, intertwining your ringed fingers.

“Now come one, we gotta do that whole ‘carried bridal style into the house’ thing you see in movies!”

[copper-16]

For those lovely people who read Do You See Something I Can’t?…Chapter 8 will be posted tomorrow (June 2nd), at 1pm EST!

We’ve got 5 chapters, 57k words in total, and a schedule (because I am nothing without my schedule!) Since the chapters are a little on the longer side, I want to give everyone ample time to fully read. So, the plan is that there will be a new chapter every 3 days, so the whole thing will be posted over the span of a little over 2 weeks. 

I totally understand how it can be hard to follow a story when there are long gaps in between chapter being posted, so I hope this is easier to follow along and engage with, by writing everything ahead and posting in a streamline manner. We shall see if this makes it better for you guys as readers, I’m curious as to your feedback! Regardless I want people to enjoy reading it, and if that happens then I am a happy camper, above all else. 

Spotify Playlist for the second half can be found here!

For everyone who is still reading this long ass announcement and have gotten themselves all caught up if they wish, here is the first part of Chapter 8 before it is posted tomorrow 🩵

Ingrid stared down at her phone, shifting nervously in her seat. Mapi sat across from her, the Spaniard’s hands folded on the table in front of her, as she watched the Norwegian closely. 

The dark haired woman sat up more, swallowing roughly. There were a million thoughts going through her head, and she looked up at the brunette with a slightly panicked expression. 

“What if I just went back?” Ingrid asked in a panic, and Mapi tilted her head to the side, her eyebrows furrowing. 

“Do you actually want to? Or are you simply scared to make this call?” She asked gently, and the full back allowed herself to slouch slightly under the intensity of her—girlfriend? Friend? Person who professed their love to her less than 12 hours ago, and hasn’t had time to put a label on it yet? 

She allows herself to slouch slightly under the intensity of her…of her…of Mapi’s gaze, feeling a bubble of shame rise up in her. The Spaniard is quick to stand, walking around the table to take a seat next to Ingrid as opposed to across from her. 

“I am not asking to make you feel bad,” Mapi reminds gently, gesturing to the phone. “But I know you do not want to go back there, and that you are scared to put your foot down. You need to though, and I promise you will get through it. I will be right here,” she continued, and Ingrid looked over at her skeptically. 

It was such a strange jump, the last twelve hours. Ingrid had returned to Barcelona to pack up her apartment to move, and had almost finished doing just that. There were boxes littered everywhere in her apartment, a fact that Mapi had yet to comment on. 

Instead, they remained where they were at the table as the sun rose in the sky, and Ingrid worked up the courage to call her manager back and explain that she was not going back to Wolfsburg. 

The Norwegian picked her phone up finally, pressing the contact for her manager before she held it up to her ear. Her foot tapped anxiously below her, a reminder of the anxiety coursing through her body even as Mapi sat beside her, looking at her with encouragement. 

“Hello Ingrid!” Thomas said cheerfully into the phone, and Ingrid opened her mouth to speak before she coughed abruptly, which kick started her into speaking.

“H-hi Thomas!” She replied, her voice thready and nervous, an octave too high. If her plan had been to play it cool, she would have been failing miserably. Luckily, her only goal was to get through the phone call in one piece. 

“Is everything alright?” Thomas asked quickly, concern laced into her tone. 

“Yes, yes, everything is okay. I just need to talk to you about something,” Ingrid choked out, even as she felt like her throat might close up. Her free hand lashed out, clamping down on the center back’s thigh with a forcefield of anxiety. 

The brunette, however, didn’t miss a beat, simply peeling the Norwegian’s hand away from her thigh and lacing their fingers together, squeezing softly. Ingrid gripped her hand tightly, and the Spaniard could feel the shake of the full back’s hand in hers. 

“Okay, what did you need to discuss?” Thomas asked, sounding diplomatic. Ingrid took a large breath in, slowly letting it out before responding. 

“I am going to stay at Barcelona. I will not be accepting Wolfsburg’s offer,” The dark haired woman managed to get out, hoping that she sounded more confident than she felt. Mapi’s thumb was very lightly trailing back and forth over the back of her palm, and she reminded herself very gently to relax her shoulders. 

“You—what?” Her agent spluttered out, clearly caught off guard. 

“I want to stay here, in Barcelona. Tell Wolfsburg I reject,” Ingrid repeated, her voice more secure this time. 

“Ingrid, you would be insane to reject their offer! It is one of the most lucrative deals I’ve had come across my desk for a female footballer, you’d be in the top 5% of paid female footballers. Hell, you’ve already told them you’d accept!” Thomas implored, his voice edging on panic. 

He had promised Wolfsburg that this deal would go through, that Ingrid would accept. She had always listened to him, she had always been easily manipulated when necessary. 

“I gave them a verbal agreement, but no contract was signed. I don’t…I don’t care about the money. Get me more brand deals or something, I want to stay in Barcelona,” Ingrid repeated, standing up for herself as Mapi watched on, growing more nervous as the conversation continued. She couldn’t hear what Ingrid’s manager was saying, but she could tell that he wasn’t responding with a super positive tone. 

“Ingrid, as your manager, I cannot let you do this. You need to get your head on straight,” Thomas replied harshly, and the full back straightened, her nerves washed away and replaced with something akin to anger. 

“My head is perfectly straight,” if it were not for the seriousness of the situation, both women might have laughed at the falseness of this statement, considering the Norwegian’s sexuality. “I am staying in Barcelona.” 

“You’ve told Wolfsburg you’d be there!” Thomas cried, though it wasn’t really true. She had agreed to the deal, sure, but she had never signed anything. She wasn’t obligated to them, she only was because Thomas had tried to make her obligated to them because he knew it would earn himself more money.

“No, you told Wolfsburg I would be there. And why the hell are you pressuring me so heavily? You are supposed to be on my side, not theirs!” Ingrid accused, and Mapi resisted the urge to flinch at the return of the woman she had become acutely used to in the last six months. 

“I am on your side, it’s just that—” Thomas tried, but the dark haired woman was quick to cut him off before he could really even begin. 

“No, you’re not, if you’re trying this hard to push me into something I clearly do not want. I’m staying, that is the end of the discussion!” Ingrid cried, removing the phone from her ear and slamming her finger down onto the ‘end call’ button. 

The Norwegian’s phone clattered onto the table as she breathed heavily, a fraught silence descending between them. 

The brunette was holding her breath, unsure of what was going to happen. Ingrid had been upset on the phone, she had been angry. 

Would it translate into anger toward Mapi? That is how it had always been, but the Spaniard wasn’t sure if that would persist or not. She knew Ingrid was capable of change, but she was unsure if something as triggering as this could lead to anything resembling softness. 

What’s going to happen? Well…you’ll have to tune in to find out! 

[neon-kazoo]

Limits (Don’t Forget to Take Your Meds)

Hero and Villain were fighting on top of a building, and—admittedly—Hero wasn’t doing so hot.

Their heart was beating too fast, and they wanted nothing more than to sink to their knees right there on the rooftop. They were breathing hard but it wasn’t enough, their heart kept picking up speed and the oxygen didn’t seem to be reaching their head.

They blocked clumsily and Villain stepped back, flicking his wrist in a circular motion in an attempt to show off.

The display was lost on Hero, however, because Villain’s sword was no longer the only thing on the roof that was spinning. Hastily, they caught themselves before almost stumbling.

They tried to keep it from showing on their face, but somewhere in the past few seconds they must have failed because Villain stopped and let his weapon arm fall to his side.

“Hero?” He questioned.

Hero pressed their lips together, too scared to open their mouth in fear of the nausea that was swimming over them. They blinked, and he was closer, hand coming up to press against the pulse point of their wrist.

He shook his head at the rapid pounding he felt beneath their skin.

“Did you take your meds today?”

If Hero didn’t know better, his question would almost seem to hold the same condescension of a parent scolding a child who obviously hadn’t taken the time to think through their actions before getting upset.

“Of course I- oh.”

Hero visibly deflated.

“You really need to set an alarm or something,” Villain scolded.

“I have one!” Hero spoke defensively, “It’s just…I woke up and my cat was yelling and I had to get up and feed her but I just felt so bad-”

“Go home, Hero.”

Hero fumbled, “Seriously? I can’t just-”

“Yes, you can,” Villain interrupted. “In fact, I won’t allow you to do anything else.”

“No, no it’s fine,” Hero tried to argue, “I can-“

Push through, they didn’t get to finish.

“Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should. Surely you know this isn’t safe,” he leveled them with a look the hero wasn’t clear-headed enough to feel the full effect of.

His next statement was threatening, and Hero found themselves taken aback.

“Do you really want to flare?”

They couldn���t stop their lips from parting in surprise.

No one had ever understood like that, never told them they needed and were allowed to rest, aggressively or otherwise.

He made it sound so…simple.

Hero thought of the consequences of trying to fight Villain right now. There simply wasn’t enough ibuprofen in the world to make up for the symptoms that would follow. They really didn’t want to end up stuck in bed for days, not when there were plenty of less courteous villains that could decide to destroy the city at any time.

Their shoulders sagged in defeat. They knew what they needed to do but…

But it hurt, accepting their limits. They supposed that was their heroic pride talking, but part of them knew it was more than that.

It was shame, and it was anger. Anger that they were trapped in a body that couldn’t keep up with them. Shame because resting felt like giving up.

They followed the villain’s lead, laying down their weapon with shaking hands.

They were, as many people were, always told, “a real hero never gives up.”

A real hero, they thought now, knows how to pick their battles.

And they knew a fight with their body would never be one they could win.

[creative-kny-fics]

Dude, I’ve been reading some of your fics, and now I just can’t help but want one of the Hantengu clones for the art I made for them!!!! If you could PRETTY PLEASE write a fic for the art I’d really appreciate it! 😃😃😃☺️☺️☺️

Ooooh! Thanks! I'm glad you like my fics!

Switches: Sekido, Urogi, Karaku and Aizetsu (Hantengu Clones)

What's going on inside Hantengu's mind? All the UpperMoons see him, a demon with the appearance of an old man, he always gets scared, for anything, how did he get this far?

Well, despite its physical appearance, within it live 5, exactly, not 4, or maybe yes, for some, after all, the 5th clone was the union of the 4.

And, what do these clones do during their time? free? Besides killing humans, do they do anything else?

“And that's why we should tie him up.”

“Last time I listened to you and Sekido ended up bursting my skull. What will it be this time?”, well, it seems that these two are not afraid of death, oh well.

It took a while to convince Aizetsu, he refused, he couldn't say he was afraid, just that the idea didn't interest him at all.

Or rather, he wanted to see how Urogi and Karaku faced the consequences of their actions, without being involved (at least as far as he could).

“How did you convince me…? Sekido is going to glare at us before we can even do anything…”

“Please Aizet. Why do you think we are going to tie him up?”

“Wait… Tie up?”

No, no, no, no, now Aizetsu was definitely out of it. Tie him up? To what? Okay, Sekido has dog behavior, but not to be tied up. What's next? Put a muzzle on him?

'This is not a good idea...'

'You're right, it's not a good idea, it's an excellent idea!'

'You know what? You guys do that, I'm not going to tie him up or anything like that...', boring, or at least that's what Urogi and Karaku thought.

After analyzing the perimeter, it was time for action... Phase 01, the distraction...

'DAMN UROGI, GIVE ME BACK MY...!!'

'Do you want it back? Catch it! Hahahaha!'

'YOU ARE DEAD!!'

After a long game of cat and mouse, Karaku gave the signal to Urogi and he understood, it was time for phase 02, the trap. 'Know? I'm already bored, here!'

'Idiot...', no, no, no, Sekido, don't raise your hands or...

'WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?! WHY AM I TIED?!'

Or so it's going to happen... Aizetsu couldn't believe what he was seeing, Urogi and Karaku high-fived for their "victory" and Sekido, well, he was tied up, with his arms above his head.

The worst thing was that he was tied to a damn stick, where did it come from? It's his weapon, but I don't know what it's called in English, so, I describe it like this (someone tell me what it's called please)

'Sekido, can we ask you a question? Are you ticklish?'

'You damn pieces of shit, we are TECHNICALLY the same person, so, yeah. You three gave me that fucking weakness and therefore I have it too.'

'Ooooh, is it our fault~? Hahahaha, what a shame! We are very sorry, Sekido!', nope, they are not.

Needless to say, no one believed those apologies to Karaku, but mocking him was not the next phase. Now, phase 03, sneak attack!

Recommendation: If you are brave (or idiotic) enough to try it, pretend that you will tickle him, the anticipation will make him more sensitive and it will be easier to make him laugh, it doesn't matter if it is verbal or it is the play of your fingers, as long as you manage to make him close his eyes in shame, it will work

'I see you nervous, Sekidoooo~'

'Fuck you, I'm not nervous'

'Ah, no~? Then why did you close your eyes when I just started moving my fingers~?'

'So as not to see your stupid face.'

'Hey, I repeat that this is a bad idea...'

'And I repeat it again, it is an excellent idea!'

There was no way to stop them, they had already convinced themselves internally that their plan would work and for stubborn people, no one beats them.

'I don't want to do this... He looks like he's suffering...'

'Why? Because he has closed his eyes and is avoiding laughing? That's a good sign, we'll see how long that frown is going to last!'

'Ih-ihidiohots!'

Nah bro, really? Well, there is no need to say anything obvious.

Apparently, because they're the same person, he is more likely to laugh quickly if you are next to those 3, ironic, right?

'Me too? What I do?'

'Well, I don't know, do you also want us to tell you how to eat?!'

'Eeeeem...'

Aizetsu regretted his options, his first option was to press his knees and he ended up receiving a knee in the chin, so it's better not, but, he had a little more determination when he decided to slightly drag his nails (or claws hahaha) on the soles of Sekido's feet.

'Yohohou fuhuhuckihing.... Grrrr! Ge-gehehet the hehehell off!'

'Nah, definitely not! What will you do? Free yourself if you are so strong!'

Oh, no need to challenge Sekido, because he may be more surprising than you think...

Beyond that, guess what? They were so focused on teasing him and sure he wouldn't get away, that they just didn't put as much effort into keeping him still.

'I TOLD YOU IT WOULD BE A BAD IDEA!'

'Huh?! It's not! That you allowed yourself to be caught is not our problem!'

'Yes, but that doesn't prevent us from doing the same... Urogi, what if we fly?'

'Excellent idea!', maybe not at all.

'Well, you guys are idiots, you could have run in different places and I wouldn't have caught you, but you ran in the same place...'

And yes, although it was a good initial idea, well, they didn't know how but Sekido was smarter than them, he managed, as the saying goes, to kill two birds with one stone hahahaha

Trust me, don't try to tickle someone, especially if you're just as sensitive as these two.

'SEHEKIHIDO!! WAHAIT!!'

'Huh? Are you really so weak? It's only been a minute, who would have thought, you guys make an attack that you're not even able to withstand, a shame...'

'LIAR!'

'Did you call me a liar? And what happens if I do this?'

'OKAHAHAY!! YO-YOHOU DOHOHOHAHAHAN'T LIHIHIE!!', bad decision.

Believe me, these two thought there would be no punishment, but there was, and it's even worse when their torso is exposed, right?

Well, taking advantage of that, Sekido was not gentle, he was literally digging into Karaku's armpits, while, strangely enough, Urogi has a rather sensitive spot on his back, more or less where his wings are so, the best option was to turn it around to access that spot

'Poor things...'

'And I wouldn't be so comfortable if I were you, after these guys get what they deserve, it will be your turn, Aizetsu'

'WHAHAHAT THA FUHUHUCK A-ARE YOHOHOU DO-DOHOHIHING?! RUHUHUHUN!!'

'HE WI-WILL HAHAVAHAHA NO MEHEHERCY! RU-RUN AWAHAHAY FRO-FROHOHOM HEREEE YOOHOHOU FUCKIHIHUNG IDIOOOOOOT!!!'

'I don't think he can, but if he can, maybe reconsider tickling him', well, you heard Mr. Fury.

Here the only way to escape from Aizetsu would be for him to crawl like a worm, but he couldn't be more humiliated, could he?

So, that's how he began his plan to "escape", sliding like a worm, he thought he would make it when the laughter gradually died down, but it was nothing like he thought.

'Well well, it seems that you listened and escaped, huh?'

'Se-Sekido... I don't...'

'Well, you managed to escape, a little and you humiliated yourself, but, you still deserve me to do something to you...', well, at least it was tried

'Wow, I think if I had done the same to you as those two, I would have condemned you to being a puddle of tears and pleading, although, currently you seem the same...'

'Li-lihihehehehehe!! Pleheahasehehe! Sekihidohohoho!!!'

'Can't it be, your ears too? I just blew lightly on them and they moved, really? Are you crying because of that and because of some gentle tickling on your belly?'

'I cahahan't!! Sohohorry!!'

'Nah, I'm not going to forgive you, this is what you deserve so either you put up with it or you get the same as those two idiots.'

[txttletale]

having thoughts about your point that players/the gm shouldn’t have to design anything for a good ttrpg and wondering if i’m thinking of the gm’s role using inaccurate terms. what would you call the gm’s responses to uncertain mechanical situations in a given game (e.g. a mixed success in pbta - the onus is on the gm to come up with what that means, following some guidance from the rules.)

it seems like something that people find comforting about d&d is that even though the rules are overly complex (and often confusing), many of the common mechanics have clearcut (and boring) outcomes (such as save or suck, hit or miss, etc), meaning the gm doesn’t have to produce/interpret a result themselves. is the other approach (i.e. rules-light) putting more “design” weight on the gm? or is that thinking of it too formally?

otherwise, good design being the gm’s responsibility seems like it just falls under the umbrella of playing in good faith - whatever the situation, it’s bad faith to create untenable/insoluble scenarios that the players can’t meaningfully navigate

yeah, i mean--PBtA games have a list of GM moves, right? when a player has a mixed success, usually that means they succeed and the GM makes a GM move. and obviously those moves have choices and stuff the GM needs to come up with -- something like Monster of the Week's "Put someone in trouble" or "Separate them" definitely require the GM to think of how that works in the fiction -- but that isn't game design, right? the mechanical aspect of that has been handled by the game's rules text. so i think that if there's more weight on the GM i think it's strictly creative weight rather than design weight, unlike the 5e GM who is forced to mechanize anything they might want to make up and is often left without any mechanical guidance

and i mean, i think in general 5e (and dnd more broadly) give the GM absolutely fucking nothing to work with. there are literally no GM-facing mechanical levels other than enemy statblocks (which also, unlike something like Lancer or even fucking 4th Edition, come with no guidance on how to use them or how to assemble combat encounters with them). it's much, much easier to GM a game with GM moves, because then you have an actual set of mechanical levers available to you--and of course, like the aforementioned "Separate them", these levers automatically lend themselves to telling the sort of stories the game advertise for their genre. here's some GM moves from other PBtA systems that, just by seeing them as a mechanical lever, can push the story into the genre and tone directions the game wants to emulate:

Put innocents in danger (Masks, teenage superhero drama)

Reveal an unwelcome truth (Fellowship, high fantasy adventure)

Make honour and shame real (Sagas of the Icelanders, saga-era viking drama)

Bring their gender into it (Night Witches, Soviet airwomen war story)

Make them teach a class (Pigsmoke, magic-school cutthroat academia)

and one of the absolute best things about GM moves (and similar mechanics, like BitD's consequences, or BOB's setting sheet moves) is that because they are clearly delineated and restricted, there's no self-policing. because a dnd 5th edition DM can, rules as written, say at any point "100 ogres appear and beat you to death", they always have to be navigating a series of unspoken social contracts, creating threats but never threats which can win, introducing problems and consequences at a rate that keeps stakes up but is also fundamentally winnable, make everythign feel 'fair'. and dnd players have learned to accept this all as just the table stakes of a GM role, but it doesn't have to be. because all that is game design, and in a better game, that design is taken care of. GM moves say 'look, we've already thought about pacing and fairness, here's the levers we've pre-designed for you to pull, go nuts and tell a story with them'.

so in my opinion PBtA mixed successes represent a lot less onus on the GM to design the game for the designers than anything that happens in 5th edition outside of individual clearly resolvable combat actions--and it's one of the reasons i started having much more fun with TTRPGs once i stopped GMing 5e and realized that other games gave me actual tools and support to work with instead of expecting me to do all that bull shit

[caker-baker]

Placate

The hero wanted to believe it was one of their friends, an agency member, someone else, anyone else, they would have taken a burglar at this point.

But no. No friend, agency member, or burglar would leave the front door open so purposefully, so dauntingly.

They knew this day would come, they just didn’t imagine it would be so soon.

The light turned on.

“Where have you been?” The villain asked from the lounge chair, petting the hero’s cat.

It was very obviously a rhetorical question, the villain knew where the hero had been, because now the villain was here, too.

The hero’s eyes flicked down to their purring cat comfortable in the villain’s lap, back up to the villain’s expectant face.

“I was–am on an assignment.” They wondered how fast they would have to be to get their cat and then get to the panic button.

Not fast enough.

If they needed to be placating, they could be. It would what drew the villain to them, they knew that now.

“An assignment that takes six months?” The villain asked, lazily waving their free hand around. “An assignment that gives you this? It’s cutesy, comfortable. Too small for my taste, but you know that.”

It was a test hidden behind poisonously pleasant words.

Will you be telling me the truth? Are you foolish enough to lie?

A question the hero didn’t want to answer, but there were limited options.

Placate, placate, placate.

“It’s my final assignment.” The hero clenched their fists, nails digging into skin, forcing upon them clarity to think, a reminder not to stutter, not to feel. “Going civilian, for my safety.”

“Oh?” The villain’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second. “Do tell. What was so dangerous that your little agency felt the need to give you an identity change?

Another test.

“It was noted that the others–other–other villains,” The hero forced themselves to take a breath in, and clenched their fists even harder. “were targeting me, thinking it would hurt you.”

“Mm.” The villain cocked their head to the side, looking at the hero in an indecipherable way.

Disappointment? Amusement? Hunger?

The hero was never able to tell.

“Well. I can admit my faults, but this is an easy fix, my darling. I’ll handle the others. Now, the car’s been running just a bit too long, so if we could?”

The villain stood, still holding the hero’s cat.

“I can’t.” The hero’s fists unclenched, wondering if their cat could be swayed to jump from the villain’s arms. “I signed a contract. If I re-emerge, I could be considered an active threat, measures would be taken against me, um, I can’t.”

The villain smiled. “Now that is a bigger problem, but I could garner a few solutions. Come along, we can even bring…” They trailed off, looking at the cat’s name tag. “Chestnut.”

“I’ll become a public enemy. I don’t own the name Hero, I just use it, I–”

“And that’s the very problem, isn’t it?” The villain let Chestnut jump from their arms, watching the hero’s shoulders relax ever so slightly. “This day and age of heroics and villainy, it’s all very theatrical. We used to do this because of values, morals, plans for world domination.”

They gave the hero a once over.

“The other heroes are good at the limelight, thrive, even, it’s the whole reason they sign the contracts and take the name, but they can’t beat you in character, and the numbers of casualties in their fights versus yours speaks volumes. You weren’t good at the attention, not until I got to you, at least.”

“And I thank you for the help, but I’m done with the cameras, interviews, the saving people.”

“What a shame. You used to talk about being a symbol, about helping people, a hero through and through, not any of that pretending you’re a movie star. It’s what makes you…”

“Malleable?”

“I was going to say unique. No need for the dramatics.”

When the hero didn’t respond, didn’t move, didn’t even look like they were breathing, the villain’s polite mask dropped.

The hero hated that, how easily the villain could switch around their personality. They also hated the villain’s unblinking eyes.

The villain could blink, the hero was sure, but whenever it was just the two of them, the villain always made sure to be constantly watching.

“As I said, I can think of a few solutions to your problems.” They held out an expectant hand. “Shall we?”

“You were using me.” The hero blurted out. “You weren’t trying to help me be better, you were–you were–”

“I was what?”

“Making me into a tool. You would have turned me into a monster.”

The villain scoffed. “A monster? Please. You would have been beloved by the world, no contract or agency could hold you, you would have been second to none.”

“Except you.” The hero noticed that Chestnut was curling around the villain’s legs, slowly realizing that their best option at this point might have been to turn heel. “I would have been second to none except you.”

The villain smiled again, though it looked more like an animal bearing their teeth in annoyance.

“Eventually not. Once we’ve finished with the others, all the theatrics and the celebrity treatment, we could begin the real work. We could be equals, my darling.”

“You were manipulating me so that you could have the perfect opponent?” The hero felt bile rise in their throat.

There was evidence of the villain using them, solid proof shown directly after that scolding from the agency for allowing a villain to mentor them, but to hear it from the villain themselves was something else entirely.

“Twist my words in whatever way you’ll have. We both win. You won’t have to worry about the performance of being a hero, you can simply go out and save the day how you like. Tell me it’s not tempting. Now, it has been a treat tracking you down, my darling, they hid you well, but I must insist we leave. There’s a long drive ahead of us.”

“No.”

Chestnut had wandered closer to the hero.

“Ah, would you prefer we fly? It’s not my favorite, but–”

“I’m not going with you.” They reached down slowly, picking up Chestnut, hoping to make it look as though they were holding her for comfort.

The villain watched, their jaw clenched, anger barely concealed.

“I made you.” They seethed through an unusually quiet voice. “And if I have to, I will break you, and build you up again.”

The hero took a step back. “Find another hero to manipulate.”

With a deep breath, the villain collected themselves, never breaking eye contact with the hero.

“You know, part of the plan was to make you fall in love with me.” They admitted, taking only a step forward to match the hero’s step back. “Or at least have you grow fond enough of me that you wouldn’t betray me so easily. But obviously, it didn’t work. Lucky for the both of us, I can work with fear. You have an abundance of that, don’t you?”

The hero turned heel.

There was no placating a villain.

[missywritesfor7]

❤️‍🩹Lifeline | MYG❤️‍🩹

Synopsis: It’s long been controversial for idols to date, but idols dating each other can be really beautiful or a complete nightmare. When Yoongi's relationship with another idol is discovered, he decides maybe it’s time to break the taboo and show people it’s ok for idols to date. Instead, they find themselves caught in the midst of one media frenzy after another and struggle to keep their relationship as strong as it had been the past 2 years. Yoongi finds a self destructive way to cope, and it causes even more problems than it solves. As they fight for their relationship and their careers, they discover that sometimes, the only way to truly be free is to let go.

Pairing: idol!Yoongi x idol!OC

Warnings: nsfw, alcoholism, cheating, depression, anxiety, Yoongi goes through a bisexy ho phase, Yoongi is also in his alcoholic phase, post-military BTS

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Ch. 22: Healing

Yoongi has come a long way, but he knows it’s only the beginning. He’ll be going home where he will be left to try controlling himself in this unpredictable world. He’s confident though and ready to face those tests. The first test is coming a bit sooner than he expected as he looks at Hyeri’s pained face as he’s sitting next to her on the couch. She said they needed to talk about something but it’s not easy.

Hyeri is trying to find the words to say but she’s struggling. She hates confrontation and tough conversations, but she hates the painful unease in her heart even more. So she starts with the straight facts. She tells him the situation with his Black card. She tells him about the call she had with the attorney and all of the information he gave her about Chelsea. She tells him about her taking photos of his license and passport. She tells him everything.

Yoongi can only silently listen to her and try to quell his feelings of shame, guilt, and regret. She’s trying to remain neutral as she’s talking, but he can see in her eyes how much it pains her.

“Yoongi,” Hyeri says once she’s done telling him everything. “Will you be honest with me?”

“Of course,” he nods knowing it certainly won’t be easy.

“Why did you let her in your room?”

“I-“ he pauses trying to find the answer. Truth is he can’t remember much of anything. He’s only just now finding out that the woman’s name was Chelsea. “I don’t know.” He hangs his head in shame.

“Did you always bring people back to your room?” Hyeri’s tone is soft and unassuming. It’s not her intention to interrogate him or make him feel bad, she just wants the truth.

“No,” he replies. “Never. I…there was one that drove me to my hotel but that’s all. She-Chelsea is the only one that had been in my room.”

“Ok.” She takes a big gulp and opens her mouth hoping she doesn’t regret asking. “If they weren’t in your room then…where were you…doing…stuff…with them?” She instantly regrets it. She doesn’t want to know. She doesn’t need to know. Her heart is beating wildly out of control.

“Hyeri…” as much as she hates that she asked, he hates that he has to answer. “It was usually in a car or…wherever…”

“Wherever?” She tightens her fists briefly. She didn’t want to ask. She doesn’t want to know.

“Anywhere that was dark or secluded. I don’t know, Hyeri.” He huffs starting to get frustrated with himself. He feels like a piece of shit and even more so because he can’t even remember much of anything.

“Yoongi, how many were there?” She doesn’t know why she asked. It’s only getting worse and now she wants a drink to get herself to stop asking questions.

“Hyeri,” he sighs in exasperation. “I-I don’t know. I was so fucked up the whole time, I don’t know. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry for being a piece of shit. You deserve a better answer than what I’m giving you, but I truly can’t remember anything. I was so fucked up.” He’s trying to hold back tears but it’s nearing impossible.

“Yoongi,” she says softly.

“At least 6, maybe 7,” he spits out. “I don’t know, fuck! It was whoever offered at the right time.” He inhales sharply. “It was never about them. It was never about you. It was all me and I wish each and every single day I could take it all back. I didn’t want to face my feelings so I tried to be someone else, but I still made such a mess of everything and I regret it all.”

“Yoongi,” she repeats with a quiver. “Did you even think of me at all?”

“Yes!” He blurts in an explosion of tears. “Every fucking day! I know I told you to stop trying to talk to me, but every day that you didn’t broke my heart. I was so stupid, Hyeri. So stupid for trying to drink my feelings away. I wanted to die because I’ve been so terrible to you. You deserve the world, not a fuck up. You’re the greatest thing that has ever happened to me and every day I’m so grateful that you still stayed by my side. You don’t deserve any of what I put you through. I’m so sorry, Hyeri.”

“Yoongi,” she squeaks out past the knot in her throat. “I have to tell you something.”

There has never been a string of words that has caused him more anxiety, but he looks on through his tears hoping what she says next doesn’t break him.

“After you guys left for the start of the tour, I thought that I might have been pregnant.” Hyeri can already feel the bittersweet wave of emotions taking over as she reveals what she had truly been going through while he was across the world ignoring her.

“You what?” He asks in complete shock.

“I wasn’t going to tell you until I was sure. I wanted to tell you in person when you got back. I was scared, but at the same time I was so excited thinking of the possibility of having a baby with you. Then JJS confirmed the rumors of me and Kihyun and every little ounce of happiness I felt was gone. I was scared, Yoongi. You have no idea how scared I was.” She takes a breath as tears begin rolling down her face. “I wanted to say something to you but I had no idea how. I wrote and deleted so many messages that I wanted to send to you. I stared at my phone with my finger hovering over your name trying to call you but I couldn’t find the strength. I knew I had fucked up when Kihyun told me he talked to you. You should have heard it from me first and for that I will always be sorry. I was stressed out because you wouldn’t talk to me. I was more stressed out when I saw how bad you looked on tv. The worst feeling was thinking I’d lost the love of my life at a time when I should have been so excited about our future.”

“Hyeri, please,” Yoongi interrupts trying to get at least a brief moment to process what the hell she’s saying.

“Yoongi,” she continues. “I couldn’t sleep, eat, or breathe. I was hurting so much and I blamed myself for it all.”

“Hye-“

“I need to get this out,” she asserts. “You have to know. You have to know how I really felt during that time. You have to know how much shit was going through my head when you weren’t talking to me. You have to know that I was fearing for more than just our relationship. I thought I was about to lose everything, and when I would normally be able to lean on you, I couldn’t. I was scared and alone, Yoongi. That’s why I went out driving that night even though I was exhausted. I wanted to clear my mind, but I also was hoping I’d find the strength to drive off and never come back.”

“I’m so sorry,” he cries.

“It hurts me so much to know that you were with complete strangers, one of which a criminal, while I was home worried about my career, my relationship, and the possibility that I could be a mother.”

“Stop,” Yoongi chokes out. He can’t hear any more of what she’s telling him. His chest is twisted up inside and he’s afraid he may stop breathing if she says anything else.

“I’m not pregnant,” she reveals as the tears rapidly escape her eyes. “They tested me at the hospital after my accident and confirmed that I’m not actually pregnant. I was relieved but at the same time so sad. I was starting to get used to the idea of having a baby, but I knew it wasn’t the time. Not when I couldn’t even get you to talk to me, but I felt a change after that. I don’t know how to explain it, Yoongi, but after that I decided I didn’t want to be the same person anymore. I wanted to fight for myself and us, so I did. But I had no idea…”

“I’m so fucking sorry,” he says again with the guilt burning his skin through his flow of tears.

“If I had known at the time…I don’t think I ever would have forgiven you.” Hyeri breaks down and takes a moment to gather herself. “Actually, I hadn’t forgiven you at all. Nothing has ever hurt me so much in my entire life.”

“Hyeri,” Yoongi exasperates through sobs. He really wishes she would stop talking.

“I came here to prove to myself whether I could forgive you or not. I needed to see you and talk to you face to face to find out if I would truly be ok carrying on like this. I needed the truth from you to ease my mind.” She pauses with a sigh hoping Yoongi is doing as well mentally as he appears physically. She’s saying these things for her own healing, but she knows there’s a risk that it would make him feel bad and potentially cause him to crave a drink or anything else that may be self destructive.

“I’ve never been so disappointed and proud at the same time,” she continues. “I wanted to hate you when I got here, but when I saw you I felt like it was the beginning of our relationship again. Seeing you looking so healthy made my heart race like the first time you invited me over to your place.” She takes Yoongi���s hand and raises one corner of her mouth into slight smile. “Suddenly all I could think about was that first morning after I stayed the night I tried to make you breakfast but I couldn’t figure out how your fancy toaster worked,” she chuckles giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Even now after everything you’ve just told me, my mind can’t help but go back to how our walk outside reminded me of the midnight walk we took around the parking garage that one time when we couldn’t sleep.”

“Hyeri,” he says softly trying to stop her again before he starts crying more. He’s managed to pull himself together a little but her trip down memory lane is starting to pull his emotions out again. “You just said so much.”

“I know, but I needed to, and now…I feel much better.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah,” she nods. “I’ve been holding on to that for so long and I shouldn’t have, but I felt like I had no one to go to because I didn’t have you. Even when I got you back you still weren’t you. I tried talking to Namjoon, but there’s no way I could tell him I thought I was pregnant.”

“Pause,” Yoongi says raising his hand. “Can we talk about that.”

“I told you I’m not actually pregnant.”

“But you thought you were? How? Why did you think that?”

“My period was late so I was worried. I only took the test to make myself feel better because I thought there wasn’t a chance I would be. Then it came back positive but I guess that was just a faulty test or something. You can breathe a sigh of relief,” she jokes.

“Right,” he chuckles. “I hate that I wasn’t there for you. I hate a lot about what I’d done, but if you give me the chance I promise I will never hurt you or leave you lonely again.”

“Can we start over?” She asks hopeful. “Can we pretend this is the first night I stayed the night with you?”

“Start over?” He smiles.

“Yeah,” she nods. “I mean I’m not saying we pretend like nothing has happened. I feel like the wounds are still fresh, but this can be our new beginning. A new chapter where we learn from our mistakes and communicate with each other better. Can we do that?”

“Of course we can,” he says reaching up to stroke her damp cheek. “I promise I’ll never put you through this shit again.”

“And I promise I won’t let anything get between us. No agencies telling me what to do. I want to just let go and finally have control of my life and career.”

“Then let go,” Yoongi encourages. During his time here he’s done a lot of letting go. There’s still a lot more for him to let go of, but he can see Hyeri holding things in holds her back from being the brave and confident person he knows she can be. “I want to show you something.”

Yoongi stands and reaches his hand out for hers. She isn’t sure what he suddenly wants to show her, but she stands putting her hand in his and following him outside. He takes her around to the back of the cabin where there’s nothing but trees as far as they can see.

“This is something Minho had me do one day,” Yoongi says looking out into the distance. “Everything you’ve been holding in, let it go.”

“Huh?” She questions tilting her head.

“He had me come out here and let everything out.” He looks at her confusion but carries on. “He told me to take a deep breath and feel everything I have in me. Then let it go when I exhale. It seemed stupid at first but it actually helped a lot.”

“Take a deep breath and let it go?” She asks.

Yoongi nods. Hyeri looks out to the tree filled landscape and slowly inhales a deep breath. She holds it a few seconds then lets out a heavy exhale. She does it once more then looks at Yoongi as if looking for him to tell her she did a good job.

“After everything you just told me?” Yoongi asks shaking his head with some amusement. “That’s all you can let out? Don’t hold back.”

Hyeri nods and takes another deep breath. She thinks of how much time she spent worried about Yoongi and his health. She exhales into a brief groan that barely startles a fly. Yoongi chuckles.

“You can do better than that,” he says. “You said you wanted to let go, so let go.”

This time she takes a much deeper breath and holds it. Everything she’s been holding on to goes flashing through her mind. The nights alone wondering if Yoongi would ever speak to her again. The fear she’s continuously carried about losing her career. The constant anxiety and depression JJS put her through. The invasion of privacy and never ending rumors. The fear that she’d finally get the call that Yoongi had drank himself to death. The absolute gut wrenching pain of knowing he was intimate with multiple people while she was at her lowest.

Every little thing came flying through her mind with that inhale, and she unleashed it with a long high pitched scream that gradually swelled into a deep roar. She held it until she had nothing left in her and collapsed into Yoongi’s waiting arms. She takes a moment to catch her breath and find her footing, then she turns to look at Yoongi.

“Why,” she starts. “Why does it feel so…freeing?”

“It works, doesn’t it?” He smiles seeing the delight in her face.

“I just let it all go like you said. Everything. I let it out into the universe.” She rises up on her toes and plants a big kiss on his lips. “I want to let everything out into the universe.”

“Go ahead,” he encourages, smiling at the way she’s bouncing with excitement.

“I’m going to fucking kill this new role!!” She shouts into the distance. “I’m going to make JJS pay!!”

“Hell yeah!” Yoongi cheers.

“I’m more than just…just a FUCKING BABY!!!” She shouts bouncing on her toes even more. “I’m in FFFFFFUCKING LOVE WITH MIN YOONGI and I don’t want to HIDE IT ANYMORE!!!!”

“Wow,” Yoongi whispers in amusement.

“This is awesome!” She cheers still bouncing with adrenaline. “This whole place is awesome!”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “I’ve enjoyed myself here. Kind of sad that this will be the last night.”

“Then let’s make it count,” Hyeri smiles.

She throws her arms around Yoongi’s neck and hits him with a big kiss. A big, lingering, passionate kiss that passes her overflowing electricity through his body. No kiss has ever felt quite as satisfying as this one. His arms hold her tight around her waist as if it’s the first time he’s ever held her. She was right, he feels like it’s their first time all over again. The first time his hands explored every ridge of her body. The first time his lips swallowed hers and his tongue tasted how sweet she is. The first time he lifted her petite frame and wrapped her legs around his waist, except instead of carrying her to his bed like the first time, he’s carrying her inside to the dining table. He sets her on the top of the table because he simply can’t go any further. He’s letting impatience win this time.

“I love you,” he whispers into her mouth as he lays her flat on her back.

“I love you more,” she smirks. One thing she knows he loves to do is prove that he loves her more whenever she dares to challenge him.

“Don’t test me,” he smirks sliding his hand under her shirt.

She lets out a soft exhale at the feeling of him gently caressing every inch of her skin. The wave of goosebumps that prickles her entire body when he removes her shirt reminds her of the first time he pulled her into an embrace. The butterflies erupting when he lightly kisses a trail from her neck to her belly button takes her back to the first time she laid before him completely naked and his lips praised every part of her as if she were a goddess. The chill of the air hitting her erect nipples when he removes her bra doesn’t last long before he glides his warm tongue across each one.

He’s seen her like this many times. He’s marveled at her beauty while undressing her numerous times. It’s not the first time he’s taken his time to undress them both then stand over her wondering how he got so lucky. But it feels like the first time for them both. This euphoric build up of feelings and emotions mixing together when he bends down to kiss her softly as he teases her.

With a slow, gentle glide Hyeri exhales as if all of the pain she’d gone through were released in that single breath. She reaches for the back of his neck and pulls him closer to her. She needs to feel his skin against hers as his hips move to a steady rhythm. For every breath she releases, he feels more determined to love her the way he’s always felt she deserves. He’s more determined to make sure she’ll never regret giving him another chance. Every thrust is burning with determination. Every baritone moan is sharp with thunder. Every bit of salty skin his tongue tastes feeds his starving heart.

“I love you,” he growls.

The deep rumble of his voice is enough to make her hold a grip around him like she never has before. Her love is about to explode out of every part of her body and there’s no way she can stop it. There’s no way she wants to stop it. She breathes her love into him every time his hips connect with her pelvis. She’s so close. She’s so in love.

“Yoon…” she squeaks as she arches her back and digs her fingers into his back leaving red marks along his pale skin.

Yoongi holds her tighter chasing the release they’re both so close to. He wishes she’d never stop leaving marks on his back. He wishes she’d never stop calling his name. All of the sounds in the world could not compare to the sound of Hyeri moaning his name as she loses all control and melts underneath him. It powers him to his own climax that hits him so hard he has to pull Hyeri up to his chest and hold her tight until every bit of his love is released.

He peppers her lips with a few kisses then pauses just to look at her. Her love drunk face pulls a satisfied smirk from him. He’s never been so undoubtedly in love since he discovered music. He’ll do the dumbest shit for her, but he’ll be sure to never hurt her again.

[training4theapocalypse-backup]

On Her Majesty’s Supersonic Service (Adrian Chase x Reader) Ch. 2

Chapter 2: Bird after Reading

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 7K

Warnings: SMUT, Fluff, Romance, Praise, Descriptions of murder, Descriptions of violence, Phone sex, Send noodz, FaceTime sex.

Summary: On a rare night off after the Glan Tai massacre, Vigilante gets your phone number from the 11th Steet Kids group chat and talks you through some things.

A/N: He is being really, really sweet to Birdie and she can’t help but be charmed by him. My heart :(

Masterlist

Chapter Text

Last night did not go to plan.

Still, the sound of pleasant chit-chat hums through the air as everyone loads up the van to make the two-hour journey back to Evergreen. The team is in good spirits on this bright summer morning after a successful mission. Everyone except you. You just want to curl into a ball and die.

After clearing up last night’s misunderstanding you practically ran back to your tent to hide in shame. Adrian called after you “Wait! So we’re not even gonna cuddle?” but you couldn’t even bring yourself to turn around and acknowledge his wounded voice with a glance. 

It was only when you were nestled back into your own sleeping bag that you noticed your lip was cut and bleeding from when you hastily removed the duct tape to use your sonic scream.

This morning, however, you’re kind of surprised to find that Vigilante has a spring in his step already. “Good morning!” he beams cheerily, leaning against the van as you and Chris are the last to haul your duffel bags and packed tents over to the vehicle. 

“Woah, what happened to your lip?” asks Economos. You give a small dismissive shake of your head and glance at Vigilante. 

“Hey- let me get those for you.” says Vigilante. Chin in the air, you stride past him and load the bags yourself. You can’t accept special treatment from him after last night.

Not any more special treatment anyway. 

“Thanks, Vij,” says Chris, tossing his bag into Vigilante’s outstretched arms. 

“Aw, man!” He pouts after you.

You brace yourself for confrontation as your steel-toed boots continue to stomp over to where Harcourt and Adebayo are discussing next steps. You wait for them to finish, back straight, eyes ahead, hands folded behind you. 

They look up from the iPad. The mischievous glint in Adebayo’s eyes and the smirk on Harcourt’s face tells you that Adebayo has been briefed on the mistaken attempt to rescue you last night. 

"At ease, soldier. Or should I say 'damsel in distress'?" teases Harcourt.

“What was Vigilante going to do, Blackbird? Tie you to the railway like an old-time cartoon villain?” Adebayo adds with a laugh.

The brutal intelligence officer training you’ve endured enables you to remain composed and you stand tall preparing to explain yourself, despite the dread stirring in the pit of your stomach. As neither of them knows sign language you pull out your phone, quickly type a message on your notes app and hold up the screen

‘I apologise for acting unprofessionally last night.’

Harcourt pulls a face, deciding how to proceed. She really should reprimand you for indiscreetly fraternising with a colleague. But you’ve noticed the way her gaze lingers on Chris Smith lately and you wonder if that’s why she’s choosing not to jump down your throat.

Adebayo beats her to the punch “Listen Blackbird, we’re only giving you shit because we’re your friends.”

“Yeah but if Smith or any of those fuckers,” Harcourt points at the rest of the team beside the van “If they have anything to say about last night, we’ll tell them to go fuck themselves.” 

Well. That was very unexpected. And, despite yourself, your shoulders loosen slightly as you feel a rush of gratitude for the pair sweep through you. You have respect for both of your colleagues but you didn’t think that they’d consider you to be friends. Let alone friends who would back you up if the rest of the team gave you a hard time. You type on your phone again.

‘It won't happen again’

They read your screen and then share perplexed glances.

“I get it, I mean, even if I was straight I definitely wouldn’t have sex with either of the roided-up himbo lunatics on this team… would you?” Adebayo asks Harcourt. 

Harcourt hesitates.

“I don’t know. Peacemaker is mostly a piece of shit. But I guess he’s kind of handsome?”

They laugh and you allow yourself a small smile. Harcourt hates that she’s interested in Chris even more than you hate that you might feel a tiny bit of attraction to Vigilante. Your turn to look at the rest of the group and catch Vigilante staring over at you, clearly interested by the giggling. 

“All I’m saying is- it couldn’t be me. Remember, Vigilante is kind of fucked up. I heard he murdered people for doing graffiti for crying out loud!” 

You consider this. Adebayo is right but then again, you’re no beacon of morality. Peacemaker isn’t the only one on this team who’s done unspeakable things on behalf of a government agency. A government agency that now hates you and sent you on this mission as a punishment for your misdeeds. So what if Vigilante kills people on his own accord? 

“Don’t dwell on last night. It’ll only distract you from the mission,” says Harcourt “It’s not even the most embarrassing thing that’s happened so far. Remember when Adebayo showed everyone that picture of her vulva?”

“Hey!” Adebayo hits her arm with the iPad. “It’s a risk you gotta be willing to take for amazing phone sex.”

“Listen, all of us can see that you and Vigilante work well together in the field. Maybe it’d be the same outside of work? You could teach him about sarcasm… he could teach you to be less serious.”

This is rich coming from her, who insisted you all referred to her only as Agent Harcourt until literally yesterday. 

Adebayo echoes your thoughts “Coming from you?!”

“Serious like in a sad, solemn kind of way,” she explains with a pitying look “If anyone needs cheering up it’s Blackbird. No offence.” She adds.

None taken. Losing your voice has made you simply recede into yourself with despondency. You look over at Vigilante who gives you an enthusiastic wave. You feel guilty for ignoring his offer of helping you with your bags. Maybe spending more time with that maniac will do you some good.

“Just be careful.” Adebayo shifts uncomfortably as she watches Peacemaker and Vigilante roaring with laughter at Economos gesturing like he’s wielding a chainsaw, regaling the story of yesterday's mission. 

After finding out that Murn wants a briefing of yesterday's events, the three of you walk back to the van. Vigilante extends a gloved hand to help you up into the back. You hesitate for a beat too long but he keeps his hand out all the same. You grab it, allowing him to pull you in. 

You perch on the seat next to him and when the doors close and Economos starts driving, he removes his mask. 

Ugh, he’s even more handsome in the daylight. 

“Y’know Blackbird, you’re the only one who hasn’t removed your mask yet,” says Chris, removing his helmet. “You saw Vij last night, which means we all know each other’s faces now.”

Oh. Your domino mask - issued together with your suit- covers from your eyebrows to your cheekbones. You’re supposed to wear it on missions to conceal your face from both CCTV and civilians. You shrug and remove the mask, unpeeling it from your face- your life is in London so it’s not as if you have a secret identity here to worry about. 

“Wow,” remarks Adebayo “You look exactly the same.” 

The van erupts in laughter and you smile reluctantly. 

“Nuh-uh, we know she has eyebrows now!” says Adrian. “I’m glad you have eyebrows by the way,” he adds quietly to you. 

The good spirits continue as you speed along the highway- ugh, motorway, you take a mental note to eradicate the Americanisms you’ve picked up on this trip from your vocabulary. The team plays music and bonds over their shared love of Glam Metal. It’s not really your thing but you enjoy just being amongst the camaraderie.

This time yesterday you had all been at each other's throats. But apparently almost being beaten to death by a giant gorilla controlled by a butterfly was just one of those things that you can’t go through without becoming friends afterwards.

Adrian’s gaze lingers on you for longer than usual. Your eyes meet his but he doesn’t look away, embarrassed, as most people would if caught staring. He studies you blatantly and then leans in to whisper in your ear. The sudden intimate closeness takes you by surprise. You’re acutely aware of his knee pressing against your own and you catch another whiff of his bergamot and bonfire smoke scent.

“You’re even prettier without the mask.” Adrian whispers into your ear and the warm vibrations of his breath make the hairs on your neck stand up pleasantly.

You see Harcourt and Chris watching you interestedly from across the van so you give a pronounced roll of your eyes at his remark. “And I can see you rolling your eyes at me even better now!” he adds earnestly.

The van hurtles its way towards Evergreen and Harcourt takes out her phone to snap a picture of you all. You listen to them reminisce about concerts while Adrian tries and fails to include you in the conversation. Chris suggests he asks you ‘Yes or No’ questions and he fails miserably. 

“What’s your favourite band?” You raise an eyebrow as Chris berates him.

“She’s British so I know she prefers The Spice Girls to Motley Crue!” exclaims Adrian “Right?” You nod and he beams.

A while later you pull up to the video shop. You listen as the team debriefs Murn on what happened in the factory. “This is good work,” he says, nodding at the equipment on the desk. “We're gonna need to sort through this but that can wait until tomorrow. You all have earned a rest.”

Adebayo raises a fist in celebration and you all file out towards the car park, laughing and joking. You and Adrian fall behind the rest of the group. “You know I really wish Economos had passed me the chainsaw. I’ve always wanted to kill someone with one.”

You give a small nod but your agreement is actually sincere - it would have been kind of hot if you had gotten the chance to see Adrian wielding the chainsaw. But after last night, you’re definitely biased. His face lights up at your silent encouragement. 

“See!” he yells to Chris up ahead “Blackbird agrees!”

“That’s only because she’s fucking you!” retorts Chris without turning around. You glance at each other and both put your masks back before exiting the building.

Vigilante’s pace drops and you match it- you can tell he’s prolonging your goodbye “I’ve got to get to work but do you need a ride home first? I’ve got the Vigalante-mobile.” he gestures to a beat-up old Chrysler Sebring. You shake your head and jerk your thumb over to Economos who’s waiting at his own car- you’re staying at the same motel. 

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asks. His eyes are obscured but you think he’s looking at your lips. Is he going to kiss you? You’re annoyed at how hopeful your inner monologue sounds. 

Your heart drops into the pit of your stomach as he places a gloved hand on your chin and tilts your head up towards his masked face. 

“Sorry about your lip. I didn’t realise duct tape was so dangerous.” You shake your head to say it’s not your fault. His thumb brushes the corner of your mouth and you resist closing your eyes and leaning into his touch. Economos clears his throat and Vigilante withdraws his hand quickly as if burned. You give an awkward nod goodbye and walk over to Economos’ car.

For fuck’s sake John.

You glare at him and decide to make him stop by a liquor store on the way home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back in your motel room you pour yourself a large whisky and run a shower. As the water is warming up you get a ping on your phone.

‘Emilia Harcourt added you to group ‘11th Street Kids’’

Harcourt shares a group photo of you all in the van. A smile creeps over your face as you examine it. You’re sitting next to Adrian and you just now realise his arm is resting on the back of your seat. Was he working up the courage to put his arm around you? He’s less sure of himself in the daytime than when he’s lurking in the dark as Vigilante. 

Notification light up your phone screen - it’s the 11th Street Kids groupchat. 

Peacemaker: [Hands up emoji]

Economos: So fucking cool.

Vigilante: [Merman emoji]

You wonder what Adrian’s emoji means. You type:

Blackbird: Nice one! x

You tap on the name “Vigilante” and your thumb hovers over his contact details, thinking about texting him. Or at least adding his contact details into your phone. Just in case of emergency. Another notification pops up.

‘Vigilante has added you as a contact’

Vigilante: Hey what’s up B- bird? [Penguin emoji] 

You’re relieved he immediately had the same thought. You still haven’t acknowledged what happened last night directly with him. This morning, in the cold light of day you felt ashamed of your one-night stand - not least how it ended. But now as the steam rises in the bathroom and the whisky burns your throat, you’re a little bit giddy that he messaged you. You contemplate for a moment.

Blackbird: Lmao that’s not even close to a blackbird! x 

Vigilante: What’s the X for? Is it a British spy code? 

Oh. Technically ‘x’ at the end of a text is shorthand for ‘kiss’. Back home almost everyone signs off like that to friends or family. It’s second nature to you when you write a message- words, space, x, send. Clearly, this cultural norm doesn’t translate well. You carefully craft a message to explain it to Adrian, trying to sound nonchalant.

Blackbird: Sounds weird but it means ‘kiss’. It’s just how we end text messages in the UK lol :) x

Well, that was lame. 

Vigilante: So you’ve given me 2 kisses since we started this conversation?

Blackbird: Not exactly- It’s just a habit when I send messages to friends x

Vigilante: Oh

Maybe he just isn’t used to being friends with his hookups afterwards? And according to Peacemaker he has plenty- of hookups, not friends - sometimes they even have one-night stands together, with the same woman.

A small stab of jealousy twists in your side at that thought.

Not Peacemaker and Vigilante sharing a woman, God no, but that you’re probably just the latest in a string of casual encounters. After all, he didn’t kiss you this morning when you thought he might, outside the video shop. 

Blackbird: I can stop sending them if they’re bothering you? 

Vigilante: What would you send to someone who was more than a friend?

A lot of people back home would use ‘xx’ at the end of a text to a boyfriend- but you haven’t had any reason to do that for a while.

Throwing caution to the wind, you type a flirtatious message, delete it, reconsider, take another drink of whisky, type the exact same thing again then hit send. You hold your breath.

Blackbird: Probably nudes :) x Blackbird: Just kidding. Probably more x’s. ‘xx’ rather than ‘x’ 

It’s been a long time since you flirted with anyone. It makes you want to launch your phone across the room but instead, you stare at the screen in anticipation.

Vigilante: Damn, this is REALLY bad timing but my break is over. I gotta get back to work. Later Birdie.

You catch your reflection in the bathroom mirror- your face falls. Is he blowing me off? Like I did to him at the van this morning? You feel betrayed by your own disappointment but you probably deserve it.

Stepping into the shower, you sigh as the hot steam fills your lungs. Your hair still smells of bonfire smoke and you’re almost sad to wash it away because it reminds you of Adrian’s smoky and citrusy scent. Shampooing your hair, you think about how Adrian curled his hand through it last night when you kissed him.

Ugh - stop it. You simply cannot catch feelings right now.

You press your head to the cool tile on the wall as the water from the tarnished chrome showerhead flows down your back. You need to scrub yourself of any feelings you have for Adrian. Even if he did feel the same way, what would be the point of starting a romantic relationship nearly 5000 miles from home? Or when you work in a job that has you in a different country every month?

The water pressure is surprisingly strong and you’re grateful for it as it soothes your sore back muscles. Yesterday’s mission and the night that followed have left your body exhausted. There’s still a pleasantly dull ache between your legs from last night. 

You felt a connection with him like you’d never felt before. Like he was reading your mind. Every thought, every want, every need. 

The only thing that has ever come close to it is how well you fight together. It almost seems silly that you haven’t been able to admit that to him today but the sensible voice in your head reminds you that you have a job to do. 

Your hand slips down the nape of your neck to your chest and you think about his skin. Pale and covered with scars, though you couldn’t see them all in the darkness of the tent last night. You wanted to look at each one, you wanted to kiss every single scar, cursing whoever had caused the damage to his lean, sculpted body. 

You find your favourite lavender soap and as you wash your body from your toes to your head, you take note of your own scars. Several cover both of your legs from the jet crash, one deep one in the meat of your thigh where you were stabbed that one time, another on your forearm from when you were stabbed a different time, and one on your shoulder blade where you were stabbed… again. Perks of the job. But you really need to get better at not being stabbed. 

You wonder what he’s doing after this shift and hate that you hope he’s staying safe. He likes to prowl the streets at night looking for criminals and regularly ends up in life-threatening situations but you want him to go straight home - you all have enough to be getting on with, with the butterflies and everything. And if you ever want to get back home and in MI6’s good graces, this mission needs to be a success. 

You finish up in the shower and decide you’d better remind him.

Blackbird: Rest up tonight Adrian. We’ve got a big day tomorrow and need you to be awake x

A few hours later at 11pm your phone pings in reply. Having spent the night drinking whisky and watching terrible TV, your stomach twists with excitement at the interruption. 

Vigilante: Great! Just need to figure out what we could use instead of duct tape…

A pleasant tingle goes down your spine. He must have finished his shift at Fennel Fields.

Blackbird: Not that kind of big day. We’ve got a lot of video equipment to check x

Vigilante: I only need to patrol the neighbourhood for a few hours. Do you wanna join? 

Blackbird: Sure- I can see the headlines now, ‘MI6 linked to string of vigilante murders in Washington.’ x

Vigilante: Awesome! Will I come and pick you up? 

Blackbird: No! That was sarcasm Adrian x

Vigilante: Okay - your loss! A team-up would have been SUPER cool FYI. TTYL

Blackbird: Wait! What can I say to convince you not to go out tonight? x

Vigilante: Awwww, are you worried about lil ol’ me, Birdie?

Blackbird: I need you on top of your game tomorrow. Finding the butterflies’ food source is more important than ANYTHING else we’ve got going on right now x

Vigilante: Stopped reading after “I need you”. Admit you need me Birdie and I might stay home tonight [Penguin emoji]  

You get up and pace around the room. He’s so resilient even after you ignored him last night and outside the van this morning. You’re relieved he’s flirting again. And you can tell from his messages that all he needs is some reassurance that you’re still interested in him after your stand-offishness this morning.

You pause in front of the mirror at the vanity table, catching a glimpse of your exposed neck and the top of your chest flushed red again. And a familiar warm sensation pools in your lower abdomen as your mind wanders back into Adrian’s tent. 

Blackbird: I need you… Blackbird: to see something :) x

Vigilante: Ooookay?

Blackbird: But you need to be somewhere private. Such as your home. Alone. In your bedroom. With the door locked x

Vigilante: I have no idea what’s going on right now 

Blackbird: I will message you a special surprise if you promise me you’re home x

Vigilante: WAIT- are you talking about the nudes you mentioned earlier???

Blackbird: Only one way to find out. Prove you’re home, tucked up in bed with a cup of tea and NOT prowling the streets looking for crime x

Vigilante: On my way home RIGHT FUCKING NOW Vigilante: PS what kind of tea should I get?

Blackbird: I’m just joking about the tea x

In the bathroom, you take in your appearance in the giant, circular mirror. You’re wearing a plain white T-shirt and another pair of unexciting black cotton underwear. Looking over your shoulder into the bedroom at your suitcase, you curse yourself for not bringing at least one set of skimpy lingerie. But then again- why would you? 

After spending all day in a Kevlar and leather suit, all you want to do is to sink into something soft and comfortable. And, after more than a year of abstinence, you never thought you’d find love in Evergreen, Washington. 

A hookup, you correct yourself, you never thought you’d find a hookup in Evergreen.

You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head at your Freudian slip. You put your hands on either side of the sink and stare at yourself sternly. 

You are not so touch-starved and devoid of self-respect that you’d actually fall for Vigitlane.

Sure, he’s good looking and yes, you have an undeniable connection that you’ve never felt with anyone before but you remind yourself he’s a psychopath. A very enthusiastic and sweet one, certainly, but a literal vigilante murderer nonetheless.

Even so, you sort of want to look cute for the man who, you remind yourself again, is wanted on multiple counts of murder. Christ, what does that say about you?

He called you pretty this morning.

And you just rolled your eyes at him, concerned about what your colleagues would think. When what you really wanted to do was call him pretty too. Grab his stupid, pretty face, straddle his lap and kiss him, bite his lower lip, grind on him, leave love bites all over his neck. Right there in the van. The thought of it makes you feel feverishly hot.

You tie a knot at the back of your white T-shirt, pulling it taught against your body so that your nipples poke through the fabric and your curves are accentuated. You adjust the hips on your underwear so they show off more of your leg. You take a couple of mirror selfies - one with your whisky glass resting subtly on your chest - finger brushing your nipple and one of you sitting on the sink - back to the mirror and looking over your shoulder. Looking over them carefully, you decide you’re pleased- artfully sexy but nothing too wild. You want to give him a tiny little taste to reassure him you like him but no more. You both have work tomorrow morning, after all.

Your phone pings.

Vigilante: I’m home. I wish I’d seen your message before I went to the Starbucks drive-thru.

Blackbird: Lol :) But I’ll need evidence to verify your location x

Another notification. Adrian sends you a photo of himself holding a Starbucks cup- a mirror selfie. He’s got his Vigilante suit on but you can see the mask thrown on the large bed with comfortable-looking burgundy sheets behind him. Ugh, he looks so dreamy with his cute hipster glasses and wavy black hair. His room is very clean but bare- the only decoration seems to be his weapons, at least a dozen guns and several blades displayed on the wall. 

Blackbird: Do you sleep in an armoury!? x

Vigilante: What?? I sleep in a bed in my apartment!

You really do need to teach him about sarcasm.

Blackbird: I’m just joking - you DO have a lot of guns in your room x

Vigilante: Oh, the ones in here are just for display- you should totally come over and see the rest!!!! Vigilante: Anything cool in your motel room? 

Blackbird: IDK… this mirror is pretty nice x

You wander over to your bed as you flick through the selfies you took. Hesitating, you decide to send him the one of you sitting on the sink. 

Vigilante: Did you realise your reflection is visible?

You blink at your screen. Your ass is literally the main focus of the picture. 

Blackbird: That was sort of the point Adrian… x

Vigilante: NOICE!!!! In that case, I am SO glad I came home. I would literally never leave home again if you wanted me to. 

Fondness for him cascades through you and it makes your cheeks grow hot. He is so whole-heartedly earnest about his thoughts and feelings, it makes you wish you told him how good he looked when he sent you his picture. 

Does he know he’s good at getting you flustered over text? Your brows knit together as you remember Chris telling the group about their strings of one-night stands together and horror strikes you.

Blackbird: Adrian, I need you to know that if you show that to anyone I will not hesitate to murder you in cold blood. I’m not one of your women to be shared with Peacemaker. 

There's a pause and you watch the three dots moving as Adrian writes his reply. 

Vigilante: Okay first of all showing your pics to Peacemaker without consent would be classed as REVENGE PORN which - by the way - is ILLEGAL. I’ve killed people for less!!! Vigilante: Second of all there is no way I would ever break your trust Birdie. You are my second BFF.

Oh no, a pang of guilt. Of course, he wouldn’t do that. Another message pings. 

Vigilante: Thirdly you could never murder me because I am a much better marksman AND better in combat AND I know how to disarm you. 

You scoff silently. You could definitely beat Vigilante in a fight. 

Vigilante: And last of all, you are mine and I would never share you [Merman emoji]

You are mine. Your eyes rake over the black pixels on your screen. Mine. Fuck, why is your heart rate increasing? Warmth creeps in deep in your tummy. You smile and shake your head at his audacity. 

Blackbird: Ahem, yours?? x

Vigilante: Yup. At least your pussy is 

Blackbird: Hmmmm is that so? x

Vigilante: I’m the only one who can make you cum (and that’s including you btw) I can show you how if you’re nice to me for like 5 seconds.

Blackbird: I’m not sure I know how to be nice x

Vigilante: It was pretty nice of you to send me a pic of your ass… Vigilante: BTW I will delete that pic if you’re worried. Just give me 3-5 minutes with it. I know the drill - burn after jerking. 

You laugh silently but his consideration for your situation makes you melt. It makes you want to get on your knees for him to show your appreciation.

But he’s not here so instead you finish the rest of your drink in one quick gulp, lift the bottom of your shirt up, exposing your tits, snap another mirror selfie and hit send. 

Blackbird: Don’t delete this one x

Vigilante: Fuck, Birdie you have the most perfect tits I have ever seen. I mean it.  Vigilante: Even if I do delete it, this pic is now uploaded permanently into my spank bank. 

Blackbird: Is this all you needed to keep you off the streets? Just a little peek of me? x

Vigilante: YUP. And I am so fucking turned on right now. I wish you were here.

Blackbird: Show me x

Ping. Another picture. This time you need to sit down on the edge of the bathtub to steady yourself.

It’s just his body - he’s still wearing his Vigilante suit but a familiarly shaped hard bulge protrudes against the fabric. Your breath hitches and you can feel the steady beat of your heart pounding in your chest. You’re a bundle of nerves and you want to see more. Swallowing thickly you type:

Blackbird: You look v sexy in your suit <3 x

Vigilante: Birdie? Is that an actual compliment?! I think it’s the first nice thing you’ve ever said to me.

You’re no good at expressing your feelings but he needs to know how ridiculously hot he looks in his suit. A vivid image flashes through your mind of a masked vigilante breaking into your motel room, holding you down and covering your mouth while he fucks you. Fuck, the imaginary scene nearly burns a hole through you as you wander back to the bed.

Blackbird: Have you ever had sex in your mask? x

Vigilante: I basically only have sex in my mask. Secret identity is kind of a bummer. 

Except for last night. Though you did burst into his tent and catch him off guard. But how does he…

Blackbird: How do you kiss? Or…do anything else? x

Vigilante: Kissing, cuddling, eating pussy - three things I can’t do as Vigilante. You were the best thing I’ve tasted in a LONG time. 

You sit down on the edge of the bed and cross your legs, trying to stop yourself from squirming. The more turned on he makes you, the more reckless you become. In just a few texts you go from a tough superhero intelligence officer with a reputation to protect to a simpering mess with no regard for professionalism.

Blackbird: You are so fucking good at eating me out Adrian. I wish you were here x

Vigilante: You’re gonna make me jizz in my pants if you keep saying stuff like that. 

Blackbird: Hey not yet- I have more to show you x

Vigilante: Fuck. Seeing you talk like this makes me wish I could hear you in person.

Blackbird: You wouldn’t like me if I could talk again. People said I was very unkind - to put it mildly x

Vigilante: HAHA as if I can’t tell what all those eye rolls mean. You’re such a meanie but you LIKE me. 

Everything just bounces off of Adrian. Every cutting glance from you or dismissive comment from Harcourt. Even the time Peacemaker just let Goff torture him. The world is literally ending and Adrian is just riding the wave and enjoying being included in this mission. You wish you could take a leaf out his book and be less serious in the face of an alien invasion.

You hold your phone to your chest and lie back on the crisp white linen bed sheets. Staring at the ceiling you wonder what it would be like to be here with Adrian, in an actual bed rather than in a sleeping bag. Both uninjured and free to take your time, not worrying about other people catching you.

You take your T-shirt off completely this time. You snap a selfie with you laid back on the bed and send it to him.

The phone starts ringing immediately. 

‘Vigilante is requesting video chat’

Here goes nothing. You accept.

“Fuuuuuuuuck.” He drags a hand from over his eyes down his face. You hold the phone still above you. “I just had to check if you were real, Birdie. For a second I thought ‘What if last night was an insanely realistic wet dream and now I’m speaking to a snarky but sexy AI bot’. But you are real.” 

From what you can see on the screen, he’s shirtless too. As he stretches out getting comfortable on his bed, one hand behind his head, you can appreciate his broad shoulders and chest. A flicker of animalistic urge to bite the exposed underside of his arm leaps through you. 

You bring up the keyboard. 

Blackbird: I’m glad last night wasn’t just a dream either x

You watch his face as he reads your words pop up on his screen, blue light reflecting on his glasses. He lights up with a wide smile and it makes your heart leap. You tilt the camera down and gently run your fingers up and down your exposed stomach and tits, your fingertips gently tickling your skin. You hear his breath catch in his throat. You move the phone camera back up to your face and slowly, deliberately suck your fingers and move them inside your underwear to start gently circling your clit. 

Your phone remains pointed at your face so he can watch you sink back into the soft pillows and close your eyes as your movements pick up the pace.

“L- let me see. Please.” he chokes. You shake your head, the corners of your mouth turning upwards in a smirk. You open your eyes and nod towards him. You first.

He removes his hand from behind his head and flips to the back-facing camera so it’s almost like you’re watching from his point of view. He unzips his black kevlar-weave trousers and tugs down his boxers. His cock is hard already. You swallow thickly- you forgot how big he was. Taking it in his hand, he slowly jerks himself up and down. 

How did all of that fit in you? You need to inhale and exhale deeply, steadying yourself. You remember the stretching feeling as he slowly entered you, pressing his forehead against yours and checking you were okay. Oh fuck, the memory makes you speed your fingers up. You move the camera down your body so Adrian can see your fingers working in your underwear. 

“Hold on a sec.”

He pauses what he’s doing and urgently takes off the bottom half of his Vigilante suit. He recentres the camera and lets you see him now fully naked. You can see the strong outline of the muscles on his thighs and decide you’d quite like to bite them too.

“Fuck, I wish you were here. You felt so fucking good last night, the way you took all of my dick in that tent like such a good girl for me.”

You writhe back into the pillows as pleasure begins to wash over you.

“Please… show me how you do it baby. Let me see that perfect pussy again.”

It’s too much, his words make you let out a small moan and - CRACK. The sound of glass breaking. You jump in fright. Fuck! The alarm clock on the motel bedside table is shattered in pieces.

“Woah, are you okay?” Adrian returns to the front-facing camera and adjusts his glasses.

You nod and show him the broken alarm clock. You check for any pieces that might have landed on the bed and he waits patiently.

“Hey at least it wasn’t your phone!” he says enthusiastically. You frown. You should have realised something like this would happen. It’s too dangerous to do this - especially on your own. “C’mon Birdie, it’s okay… I personally think it’s really hot that you could kill both of us by cumming. As far as powers go, you’ve gotta admit that’s pretty OP.”

You give him an embarrassed smile. “Is there somewhere you can balance your phone so you have both hands free?”

You carefully place your phone against the lamp on the bedside table and kneel on the bed in front of it. His eyes look you over from your head to where your knees connect with the mattress.

“Fuck, you look so beautiful,” You blush hot red again and he smiles reassuringly “I can’t believe I get to see you like this.” He is being so sweet and it’s killing you. Last night he was teasing you so much that you’re actually beginning to wonder if he was just getting back at you for being so rude to him the past few weeks. 

You feel exposed, almost the full length of your body is on display on your video tile. The thought of him seeing all of you out so brazenly makes the hairs on your arms stand up. You’re brave in the field but being so openly vulnerable takes a different kind of boldness you don’t get to exercise often.

Heart pounding in your chest, you slip your underwear off and throw them aside. That’s it, nowhere and nothing to hide now. He groans and angles his phone down his body so you can see him stroking his cock, a clear bead of precum leaks from the tip from it. 

You move your hands over your body and watch his eyes follow them. You pinch your nipples and move one hand down to your clit again. “Wait, Birdie, do exactly as I say,” he interrupts “We don’t want you sending a sonic boom through to Harcourt’s room this time.” You bite your lip and nod slowly, it would be embarrassing to say the least, having to explain why the wall between your rooms was rubble if something did go wrong.

“Get on your hands and knees for me,” It’s forward, direct but he says it with such confidence that you don’t even think twice about doing so, obediently. It reminds you of the way he effortlessly relays instructions at you in combat. “Now grab that pillow… lay your head on it and put your other hand down between your knees.” You feel your insides buzzing as you lie, literally face-down ass-up, waiting for him to tell you what to do next.

“Now use that hand to touch your clit for me.” This is obscene, you think but you do it anyway, your head on one side so you can look at Adrian on your phone. He drags his hand up and down the length of himself more slowly than before, taking his time and enjoying the scene in front of him. 

“When you start to get close you can turn your head into your pillow and let it out,” he says, watching your figure, side-on as your walls start to clench, begging to be filled. You allow yourself to test it out quietly, biting down on the linen and polyester and letting a small cry out. It vibrates but nothing else happens. You hear him let out a small whimper at the sight of you biting into your pillow. “Fuck, Birdie, have you ever thought about OnlyFans? I’d subscribe.”

The jape unlocks something in your brain. Shyness quickly disappearing, you turn your body another 90 degrees so that he’s looking at you directly from behind. You open up your knees wider and adjust the pillow so you can lie your head back down. All he’ll be able to see is your spread legs, ass and soaking wet cunt. Your fingers reach down to stroke your wet folds.

“Hooooooly fuck- that view. Keep doing that. No, wait- just your clit. I want to see your pussy leaking for me.”

Your muffled whine is impatient. It’s almost embarrassing how wet you are for him but you can tell from the way his breathing is getting quicker that he’s getting close, just from looking at you like this.

“Hey, look at me Birdie.”

You turn your head and look past the side of your body, and see him on the carefully balanced phone screen. 

“You know what you are, right?”

You bite your lip. I’m a slut, I’m a fucking slut touching myself on camera for you, Adrian.

“You’re mine. And that beautiful pussy belongs to me.”

Oh. It’s too. Fucking. Much. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t stop your fingers as they bury deep inside you curling up and tapping a frantic rhythm while the heel of your hand puts delicious pressure on your clit. 

You can’t see him anymore but he makes sure to narrate it for you. “That’s it. Think about me fucking you as you’re doing it, B.” You hear the wet slick of his own hand speeding up too.

You close your eyes and as you curl your fingers inside yourself, you imagine Adrian’s huge cock filling you up. The way he’d grab your hips, smack your ass and bite your shoulder as he thrusted deep inside you. 

“I love this angle. Keep doing that for me. Fuck, you look amazing like this.”

Letting out another sigh into your pillow, you feel the swell coming, feeling immense satisfaction that Adrian is watching you on his phone and furiously pleasuring himself, he too imagining that he was pounding into you deep from behind.

“You’re doing s-so good, baby. Such - such a good girl.” he stutters and inhales sharply.

In response you bounce your hips a little, in sync with your fingers, wishing you were backing up and gyrating into his hips. You take another peek at your screen to see his head leaning back and his Adam's apple moving as he swallows and clenches his jaw. He looks back at the screen and catches your eye “So… f-fucking… hot.” he pants. You feel another jolt of searing heat between your legs. Your pussy desperately clenches around your fingers, wishing it was his cock.

“Say my name when you cum for me. Come on, you can do it. Into the pillow.”

The pillow envelopes your face just in time for you to moan his name.

The whole bed shakes violently this time. You tumble straight into your release as you continue to whimper. It’s hot and wet and desperate, heat radiates from your centre, making your knees tremble weakly as the orgasm rips through you.

“I’m gonna- I’m - fuuuuck.” Adrian groans and you move your head again to watch him finish. His eyes squeeze shut and he shudders, thick ropes of cum shooting out onto his chest and stomach. 

You lie still for a few more moments, your leaking entrance still twitching and exposed to the camera while you eventually catch your breath. You crawl around to grab your phone and roll onto your back, holding the screen above you.

You both stare at each other, flushed and glowing with sweat. Adrian adjusts his glasses, wipes himself off with a towel and lies on his side, one arm propping his head up. You think it would be very comfy to nuzzle into the crook of his neck right now. Maybe you’d trace your fingers over his scars and listen to him talk about how he got each one.

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. And trust me, I’ve watched a lot of stuff.”

You smile in a self-satisfied sort of way and pull up the keyboard.

Blackbird: I like seeing you too. And hearing you talk to me x

“Okay, so we need to do this again in person next time.”

Blackbird: I’d like that x

“And can you admit you like me yet?”

You give him an indifferent jerk of the head but he reads through you and grins triumphantly.

Blackbird: Okay I DO like you Adrian. But I’m just not sure if we should be doing this at all x

“I get it if you’re embarrassed to be with me - we don’t have to tell the rest of the team.”

You shake your head fervently. Relief washes over his face. 

Blackbird: It’s not that… I can’t let myself fall for someone when I need to leave the country right after this mission x

You also don’t trust Amanda Waller or MI6 right now and don’t want to give them any personal leverage. But you can’t put that anywhere in writing. Even in an encrypted message to Adrian. It’d be too dangerous for both of you. 

“Wait - are you saying you’re falling for me?”

You freeze- your mouth opens stupidly as you reread your last message. Shit.

“Because Birdie I fell for you the first time I saw your burst someone’s head open with your sonic scream. You’re the hottest, most badass person I’ve ever met. And if you feel even sort of the same way, it would be stupid to ignore it- right?”

Blackbird: I think it’s stupid to even discuss it. We shouldn’t get attached when I live on another continent x

“Yeah but you’ll only live there if you actually survive!” he says with newfound enthusiasm “There’s like a really high chance we’ll both die pretty soon.”

Blackbird: And if we’re both fortunate enough to live? x

“Eh,” he shrugs “Sounds like a problem for future us to worry about. No point dwelling on hypotheticals.”

You wrinkle your nose but butterflies dance in your tummy with excitement. Okay, we’re doing this…. and if we both live long enough for me to go home, we can call it a summer fling and move on.

Blackbird: Fuck it. If we’re gonna die we might as well hook up a few more times… :) x

Adrian rolls onto his back and punches the air “Go out with a bang. Literally.” he pauses “Are you going to start putting two x’s at the end of your texts to me now?” 

You pull up your keyboard. 

Blackbird: Yes xxxxx

Chapter 3: The Spy Who Came Out in the Cold