#ask me more if you want or if you need me to clarify something
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simpfordin · 2 days ago
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thanos hcs
thanos (choi su-bong) x fem!reader [au where you guys aren’t in the games]
whats good mamas i’ve crawled out of my hole to write y’all some hc’s…. and imma probably go right back in !! also please excuse my brain rot humor, it had to be done. this is mu first time writing thanos too soooooo be may be a luhh ooc. srry.
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🀥 su-bong is the type that [assuming he gyatt his money up] would give you his credit card for a day so you could spoil yourself
↬“i’m gonna be at the studio all day, so take this,” he says pulling his AMEX black card out of his wallet and handing it to you, “get whatever ya want, ma.”
🀥 he DEFINITELY calls you ‘ma,’ alongside ‘señorita’ and ‘flower’ (ngl he probably would also call you ‘woman’). he mayyyy even call you ‘shawty.’ :o
🀥 he’s not necessarily kendrick or tyler level famous, but thanos has a pretty decently sized fanbase. he’ll typically sells out smaller/medium sized venues. nevertheless, he invites you to every show, and whenever you’re there, he’s sure to preform 10x more (as a means to impress you).
↬what’s more is that he WILL be giving you vip treatment. wherever you want to watch from, whether that be in the wings stage right, in the audience, or even backstage on a screen (though he prefers that you watch him in person), he will make those accommodations. furthermore, he’s going to make sure that you have EVERYTHING you need, whether it be drinks, meals, comfortable clothes, and even simply a place to charge your phone.
↬“shes coming tonight, have someone go out and get those snacks she likes,” thanos nonchalantly ordered his manager whilst scrolling on his phone. “which ones sir?” he asked to clarify. “the ones she likes.” (side note he can be so difficult and for what…)
🀥 su-bong loves to make you blush and smile, and he specifically likes it when you get shy and (try to) hide your expression from him. its literally an ego boost for him; the fact that HE can make you blush and bashful.
🀥 now lets be honest… su-bong doesn’t do very well sitting with his feelings, which is why he tends to ignore them and instead opt for drvg use, clubbing, etc. however, ever since he started dating you, he’s learned to be more vulnerable, especially since a truly healthy relationship requires not only vulnerability, but honesty pertaining to feelings and emotions. it took some work and convincing for him show you his emotional side, however he eventually gave in (since he loves and values your relationship) and found that he feels comfortable expressing himself to you (but again, he can be difficult here and there, and he’ll avoid emotions/feelings if possible).
↬”whats wrong my love?” you gently asked your boyfriend, sitting next to him on the couch in his apartment. you could tell something was bothering him, and wanted to give him the opportunity express his feelings. he stayed silent for a few moments, avoiding eye contact as you rubbed circles softly on his right shoulder. “i’m just…. i’m not feeling great right now,” su-bong reluctantly answered, still avoiding eye contact at all costs. “im here for you if you want to talk about it,” you replied, gently embracing him, his head shaking ‘no’ in your chest. it may not seem like much, but this level of vulnerability to him is exponentially more than he has ever been comfortable with, and only you get to see this side of him.
🀥 thanos stayssss on tiktok. he’s always making stupid videos for his drafts, whilst posting “hard” videos, as he likes to maintain his tough persona. he also goes live simply because he can. you tend to be a frequent guest in these lives whether you like it or now.
↬ “c’mere ma,” thanos called, motioning you to join him in front of the camera. you furrowed your brows, silently shaking your head no, having zero interest in being on his live. however he insisted, “c’mon babe, let me show you off.”
↬he also goes live with nam-gyu, here and there, and the two talk about dumb stuff and always end up bickering [its giving martin & nle vs hamzah……. hopefully that reference ain’t too specific :,)]
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jcollinswrites · 2 days ago
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I'm the anon that sent the period ask.
Honestly, I didn't expect such backlash? Maybe I worded it wrong, but I was talking about what they would do for the MC. Like fuss over her and make sure she has everything she needs and comfort her in their own way. If you didn't want to answer the ask, you could have said so without making fun of it. I saw this ask in some other IFs and thought about asking, but as I said, maybe I worded it wrong. It's alright. No hard feelings. I understand.
I'm sorry, what?
You wanted to know how the ROs would comfort an MC on her period and instead you asked, and I'm quoting:
Let me ask the MEN,how would they react seeing a period blood strain on the F!MC's butt ?
?
I don't understand the mental gymnastics one needs to do in order to connect these two. If other authors can do that, well, good for them. I can't. To be frank though, I can very well imagine that the original asker (not you, obviously) DID mean what I thought it meant, and the first author who answered just assumed it was something more innocent, when actually, it was not. But, honestly... when you look at this question... what's the first thing that comes to mind? Because for me, it's all those stupid ignorant mf's who are grossed out by girls being on their periods. I'm glad that's not what you meant, and I also tried to answer the original question in good faith, but this ask is not worded in a positive way.
Also, I wasn't making fun of the question. I was completely serious. If anyone reacts in any way (other than being helpful) to a woman being on her period THAT MAN IS AN IGNORANT FOOL AND GIRLS, YOU SHOULD DUMP HIS ASS. But at the very least, that man needs some serious education.
Anyway, thanks for clarifying. The other question indeed sounds very different, and if you still want to know the answer, then here it is:
It depends on the MC. Because not everyone has bad periods. For some girls, it's horrible, for some, it's not that bad. The guys should know their girlfriends at this point, and they should know how to comfort them. There is no cure-it-all. They will all try to be helpful if MC needs it.
Sorry other messages in my inbox. I pulled this to the front because I was completely BAFFLED
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httpwintersoldier · 4 hours ago
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『 the intern | b. barnes x reader 』
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pairing: sub!bucky barnes x afab!reader words: *peter griffin voice* who the Hell cares summary: hiring yourself an assistant turned out to be a good choice... a pleasurable one, even.
cw: voyeurism (consented), exhibitionism, bdsm
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"If you send one more of these boys up to my office I will kill you and the boy. I don't need an assistant." You complained to your colleague, whom you ran your firm with.
"Y/N, you've been drowning in work. If you had someone to organize your papers and take your calls then it'd all run a lot smoother." He insisted.
You stopped in your tracks and faced him with a sigh, holding the bridge of your nose between your index finger and your thumb.
"Let's say I do hire one of these interns you keep sending my way, will you stop pestering me?" You asked, tired of being visited by unknown people every hour of every day you spent in the office.
"Yes." Your co-worker responded simply.
"Fine!" You threw your arms in the air dramatically, giving in to your colleague's wishes "I will hire an assistant."
Just as you said those words, a lost-looking boy passed by the two of you. The male couldn't be more than twenty-two, he had big, icy, blue eyes, that searched the room anxiously. He was clearly lost and nervous, holding a paper that looked like a curriculum. You smirked to yourself.
"You, boy. What are you doing here?" You asked out loud, pointing in his direction.
The man in question nearly dropped the paper and the folder he carried at the mere sound of your voice. He cleared his throat and composed himself quickly, walking over to you as he did so.
"I'm uh, I'm Bucky- James, James Barnes ma'am, I'm looking for Ms. Y/L/N? I'm supposed to have an interview with her." He clarified, looking between you and your colleague.
"Are you now?" You asked, glancing at your coworker.
The younger man didn't understand what that was supposed to mean, he was clearly confused and he had no idea if the tone you had used was good or bad. His big eyes blinked in an adorably anxious manner.
"Is this your curriculum?" You questioned, hinting at the paper he had in his hands.
Bucky looked at his hand, as if he had forgotten what he was holding, and then nodded in response to your question.
"Well? May I see it?" You asked, uncrossing your arms and extending your hand.
The boy was clearly confused, as far as he knew you were a random employee in the
"This is Ms. Y/L/N." Your colleague mouthed at the boy.
His eyes went wide and his skin was drained of all colour, realizing he was in front of his (possibly) future boss. Without saying another word, the boy extended the document he held, and you took it, skimming through the information.
"Harvard graduate, did charity work, went to a million after-school clubs..." You enumerated, with a sigh, and looked at your coworker while waving the paper around "They're all the same, Jacob, I need something different, something creative and unusual."
You handed Bucky his curriculum, and the boy swallowed thickly - that couldn't be good.
"What makes you unusual? Why do you want to work here?" You questioned.
If the younger man was already nervous, that just made the nervousness double down. He didn't expect an impromptu interview! His mouth went dry and Bucky could feel a bead of sweat drip down from his temple.
"I uh- I've read a lot about the CEO- about you, I guess and-"
"And yet you didn't know what I looked like?" You questioned curiously, tilting your head slightly.
"I just thought you'd be..." By the time Bucky realized what he was saying as his defense, it was too late, both you and your other coworker were already expectantly looking at him, waiting to hear the rest "older?"
You tried suppressing your laugh but a chuckle escaped you.
"You're hired, kid." You said, finally.
"What? I am?" Bucky's eyes went large in the most adorable way, bringing a small smile to your lips.
The man felt like he could breathe again, it was as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders - Bucky was sure he had butchered everything, and he had no idea why you had made that decision, but he sure as Hell wouldn't question it.
"I want you here tomorrow half an hour sooner, at eight-thirty, so we can discuss your contract and your responsibilities. Be late and I'll find another big-eyed boy to replace you. Got it?"
"Yes ma'am! T-thank you!"
You turned around and walked towards the elevators, side by side with your partner, that looked over his shoulder, at the smiling boy, before chuckling and looking at you.
"You just hired him so you wouldn't have to actually interview anybody else, right?" He asked.
"Yep." You glanced over your shoulder as well "Plus, he doesn't seem like he will give me much trouble."
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It was eight o' clock sharp when you turned the street towards your building, with a scarf around your neck, a big red faux-leather purse in one hand, and a hot latte in the other.
"What the Hell..." You muttered to yourself as you saw someone by the door of your building.
Was it a solicitor? Was it an annoyingly early meeting you had forgotten? Maybe a stalker...
As your heels clicked against the cement of the sidewalk and you got closer, the figure became clearer and clearer, and you were eventually able to make out who it was.
"Intern?"
You had said it loud enough for him to hear, apparently, as his head snapped in your direction.
"Good morning, ma'am!" He greeted politely.
"Call me boss, or Miss Y/N, ma'am makes it sound like I'm a grandma. How long have you been out here waiting?!" You questioned, as you got your card out of your bag and swiped it on the reader, opening the door of the building.
"Half an hour..." He admitted, following behind you "I didn't want to be late."
"I know you're trying to impress me, but don't do that. You do exactly what you are paid to do, no more, no less. You do it as best as you can, but if you overwork yourself or overdo what is already imposed on you, you're going to be opening doors to being exploited, and eventually you'll burn out."
Bucky pressed his lips together and nodded along, his eyes opening in shock as you gave him advice. His respect and admiration for you had risen to a new level, as you had chosen to give him useful advice instead of exploiting the situation.
"Don't be mistaken, I'm not being your friend. You are here to learn and I won't have someone leave my firm and make outsiders question our work ethic or our reputation." You finished.
You called the elevator and, when the doors opened, you both walked in. A red halo of light lit up around the number six as you pressed the button that took you to your office's floor.
"Remind me of your name again, Bucky, is it?" You asked as you looked in his direction, trying to remember what he had told you yesterday.
Bucky blushed deeply, embarrassed that he had introduced himself to his boss with his nickname.
"It's James, Miss, Bucky's my nickname." He explained, meeting your eyes and then instantly averting his gaze.
You nodded and took a sip of your hot drink as you thought about what he had just told you.
"How does one get 'Bucky' from the name 'James'?" You wondered out loud.
"It's from my middle name, Buchanan." The man cleared up, with a smile, clearly already feeling a little less nervous, after all of the small talk.
"Oh, isn't that cute."
The compliment sent his blood flowing everywhere. His cheeks were a deep shade of pink, and he lowered his head so it would be less visible.
A 'ding' echoed inside of the elevator and the doors opened once more, unveiling the floor that would be Bucky's daily terrain, but his eyes didn't even bother glancing around, as the chairs, computers and desks couldn't compare to the view right in front of him: your ass, perfectly shaped and tightly outline by your gray pencil skirt.
Bucky bit his bottom lip, and he swore he started salivating. Thankfully you didn't talk to him as you walked towards your office, because the man had been caught in a trance.
He was only brought back to reality when his body nearly slammed against yours. You unlocked the door that separated the rest of the floor from your office and walked around your desk, as you set your bag and your nearly empty drink on top of it. The male took a seat on the other side of the piece of furniture, stealing some not-so-subtle looks at your curves whenever he could.
"Here is your contract," you began, as you shuffled with some papers on one of your drawers and pulled out a document "it's pretty standard for an intern, there isn't a lot of wiggle room but we aren't completely intolerant to contractual changes, just bring it up to the legal department, as well as Human Resources."
Bucky swallowed dryly and shuffled in his seat as he took a peek at your cleavage when you slid the contract over to him. He could see the way your white bra hugged your breasts tightly, and for a second Bucky imagined what it'd be like if your undergarments were replaced by his hands.
"Your schedule is from 9AM to 5PM, you shouldn't need much training," You continued, not noticing how his gaze was fixated on your breasts "you will be just taking calls for me and organizing paperwork. Take everyone's messages and give them to me at the end of the day, if they say it's urgent you can bring it immediately. If anyone calls to schedule a meeting take down their name and I will call them myself, okay?"
The intern nodded along to what you said, trying to distract himself from the images of your body that plagued his mind.
"Well, that should be all, your desk is that one," you instructed, pointing at the place right outside of your office "get accustomed to it, you can bring whatever you want, some people bring pictures or whatever, but you have to keep it clean and organized at all times, this isn't a woodshop, it's an office. Got it?"
"Yes, boss." Bucky responded with a smile.
There was a feeling that creeped up within him, he had never met such a woman, one with such power, one that commanded such respect, be it due to her looks or personality - Bucky was instantly hooked.
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The workload was immense, but it wasn't anything complicated, so Bucky dealt well with it.
Half of the work day had already passed when your colleague, Jacob, walked in your office, stealing a glance over at Bucky.
"Looks like he's doing well, you haven't eaten him alive yet?" The man joked, as he plopped some documents on your desk and sat on the chair across from you, crossing his legs as he did so.
Bucky pretended not to hear, but he obviously casually eavesdropped as he wouldn't miss a chance to hear your pretty voice talk about him.
"You know what? So far so good. He doesn't bother me and the amount of idiots that I have to deal with on the phone has decreased by a lot."
"Are you admitting that I... was right?" Jacob teased, dramatically placing a hand over his chest and letting his mouth hang open in pretend shock.
"I wish I could fire you, I really do."
The man stood up with a chuckle and fixed his tie, before walking towards the door.
"But you can't, I'll see you in today's meeting, Y/N."
You jokingly rolled your eyes at your business partner and waved him off.
"Bucky? Would you please come here?"
Your words, although they were a mere request, felt like an order. The male would follow whatever you said without questioning, like a puppy and its new owner, and if you asked him to do something, he would drop everything and obey you. As such, Bucky dropped the files in his hand and stumbled into your office.
"Yes, Miss?"
"I'm getting a very important call today, one I cannot miss, so if you see this number on the telephone's screen," you said, scribbling down a number you copied from your computer on a piece of paper and handing it to him "call me. If they happen to call me while I'm in this afternoon's meeting, take the call, tell them that I will be right over, and fetch me. Okay?"
"Yes, miss." Bucky responded and, as he grabbed the paper from you, his eyes couldn't help to take a perverted peek at your breasts.
You licked your lips and smirked as you noticed his eyes trailing down to your chest, before meeting your eyes once more. Bucky had been eyeing you ever since he arrived, so it was something he no longer noticed he did, but you noticed.
You squinted your eyes and looked at him - how long had he been eyeing you like that? Had he done that yesterday? This morning when you met? Were you so uninterested about the intern that you didn't realize he was eating you up with his eyes. You placed your elbow on your desk, and leaned your head against your hand as you took in the boy's image.
He had a nice build, broad shoulders, nice arms, and a tiny waist that was accentuated by the belt of his pants. His eyes, you had noticed, were a beautiful shade of blue, and they would have been intimidating, if it wasn't for the seemingly permanent nervousness and admiration he looked at you with.
You found yourself pressing your legs together and biting your bottom lip, imagining what other looks those eyes were capable of giving you, but, just then, Bucky's gaze met yours.
The intern obviously didn't know what you were thinking, but your dreamy eyes and the lip caught between your teeth made him blush. When you noticed this reaction, you were brought back to reality - what on Earth were you thinking, fantasizing about an intern?!
You shook your head and got back to work, still in disbelief over what had gone through your head. Thankfully, no longer than an hour later, Jacob called you for the meeting, releasing you from your sinful thoughts.
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Meetings were stressful, and you had a deep distaste for them. Gathering around with a bunch of people, and listening to ideas that were seldom good was tiring, especially when it came to collaborations between firms - you had no idea how some businesses stayed afloat with seemingly no work ethic.
"Y/N, I see you got yourself a little treat there." One of the women from a parent company told you.
You cocked your head to the side and furrowed your eyebrows as you looked at her, not quite understanding what she meant. The woman pointed her chin towards someone and, as you followed that direction with your gaze, your eyes landed on none other than James Barnes.
For some reason that made you feel uneasy, was it, jealousy, perhaps? Like someone ogling what belonged to you, whatever it was, you didn't like it.
"Oh, him? He's my new assistant." You explained, pretending the comment hadn't affected you "Jacob insisted I get one to help with..." You paused, looking the other woman up and down "the more laborious people."
The subtle insult seemed to go over her head, as the woman was too busy appreciating Bucky's figure. Suddenly, her pupils grew larger and she straightened her body, a gross display that told you that your assistant was probably coming in the direction of the meeting room.
"Miss? That call you expected came through right now." His soft voice called.
You turned around and instantly stood up, thankful to be leaving that room.
"Jacob, fill in for me, okay? This call cannot be missed." It was more of an order than a question, and, after saying that, you closed the door of the meeting room behind you and followed to your office.
Your hand was already turning the doorknob when you looked over your shoulder, in the direction of the meeting room. The other woman's predatory eyes were still fixated on Bucky. You looked at the latter whom, like a puppy, stared up at you from the seat of his desk.
"Come in, I need you to take care of some unorganized files in my drawers." You lied.
The male very eagerly stood up and followed you to your office, closing the door behind him. You told him to organize the client sheets and partnership documents in alphabetical order (which would mess up the personal system you had, but you'd deal with that later), and got busy with the call you had to answer.
Bucky had become a master at multitasking in less than a day, as he was hypnotized - he managed to keep his attention on his work and on you at pretty much all times - but it was so hard to be so close to you and not fully give into his wishes. The man's eyes were fixated on the way you tapped your lips with the rubber of your pencil, and how you crossed your legs, one over the other, accentuating your hips in the most delicious manner.
You missed his hungry gaze for the first thirty minutes he was in there, but it soon became obvious. The call became simply a background noise, as you decided to drop your pencil on the floor and, very slowly, bend over to pick it up.
The blouse you wore exposed your bra and part of your breasts, and you watched attentively as Bucky's mouth hung open and his eyes doubled in size. You could see the tension in his body, and the way his hands gripped the paper a little tighter. Amused by this, you decided to take things further, hoping to get another look at his adorable, desperate expressions. You slowly stood up, phone still glued to your ear, and grabbed a random paper, before bending over and pretending you were taking notes of something regarding the call.
Your ass was up in the air and, although your back was faced to Bucky, you could feel his stare burning into you.
You felt dirty and exposed, there was a whole office outside, and yet, here you were, parading yourself in front of the new intern, whom had a clear fixation for your body. Wetness spread in between your legs, and you wondered how something could feel so wrong, yet so good.
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The remainder of the week was... exciting. You found yourself choosing progressively tighter and more revealing outfits subconsciously - but if you thought about it, the reason was obvious. At some point you wondered if Bucky had noticed you enjoyed the way he looked at you, but that proved to not be the case, as he blushed deeply and averted his gaze for the rest of the day when he realized you had caught him staring at your chest.
Friday came along and you were a little disappointed you'd spend the weekend without those pretty eyes devouring your body, but alas, a lot of work had been left behind and you'd have to spent the night in the office to make up for it, so there was no time to think about it - or so you thought.
"Mr. Barnes, what are you still doing here?" You questioned, as you found him, to your surprise, sitting by his desk.
You glanced at the clock on the wall above him, you weren't mistaken, it was 7PM, two hours past anyone's schedule, and you thought you'd be the only person in the building (besides security).
The intern looked up at you, with those irresistible, innocent, blue eyes, that stopped by your thighs, waist and breasts, before finally meeting your gaze.
"I uh, I haven't finished what you assigned me for today, and since you were here still I figured I could stay for longer as well." That was a lie, Bucky had purposefully delayed his work when he heard you tell your co-worker you were going to stay for longer, hoping he could spend more time around you, but you didn't need to know that.
You sighed, wondering if you'd be able to focus on your work if he was so close to you.
"Fine, leave whenever you'd like, Mr. Barnes. We have a shower facility in the building for employees in these situations, I'll go ahead and freshen up, feel free to use it in the future if you see fit."
You walked away, carrying with you a small bag containing washed underwear, without waiting for a response. You hoped a nice, hot shower would clear your mind and relax your body from the growing tension, but it would soon be revealed to have the opposite effect.
Bucky couldn't hold himself back when he heard you'd be taking a shower - you'd be completely naked, just a some meters away from him. Only a door separating him from the view he most craved. The picture he had painted in his mind, the picture that had, thus far, been only an imagination could be turned into reality, if only... No, he couldn't, he shouldn't... and yet he did.
As you undressed, you felt a small breeze come through, and you wondered if you had left the door open, you glanced over your shoulder to check, only to discover that Bucky was peeping, trying to take a peek at your body. When his eyes landed on your figure, you had already turned back around - he had no idea you knew of his presence.
If it was a show he wished, who were you to deny such a good boy something so simple?
You slowly peeled your skirt and your stockings off of your body, perking your ass up so he could get a good view of it. Your blouse was removed next, follow by a relaxed removal of your panties and bra. You stood before him, completely naked.
Bucky's mouth was dry, and he swallowed thickly, as if it'd bring any moisture to him. His face was painfully hot, and his cock excruciatingly hard. The man's hand gripped his shaft through his pants, slowly massaging his member to the sight of your body, as you bent down for no reason at all, other than to tease him.
Eventually you walked into the shower (as it would've been suspicious if you didn't). Bucky was going to follow you, to stalk you further into the room so he could take in more of your body, but, just as he had stepped into the door, the intern noticed your panties on the floor. Before he could think, his body was already acting - he grabbed your panties from the floor and dashed towards his desk.
Bucky pulled out his rock hard cock, sighing in relief as he was released from the confinement of his pants. The man took a good look wrapped your panties around his cock and threw his head back against the chair as he jerked himself off, taking in the scent of your underwear whilst remembering your naked body, your glistening pussy and your hardened nipples.
A whiny, strained moan echoed in the room, along with slapping noises. Bucky held himself back, wanting that feeling to last longer, but the pleasure was too intense, the images of your curves, that he yearned for so much, were too overwhelming. A strained moan left his lips as the man came, spilling all over your panties, his juices mixing with yours.
Bucky's chest was rising and falling at a rapid pace, his vision was still blurry, hair disheveled and sweat dripping from his forehead when he heard your heels clicking against the floor in the distance.
"Fuck-" He cursed under his breath, fumbling with his belt and jeans.
He hid your underwear behind your back, fixed himself up as best as possible, and pretended to be dealing with the paperwork.
When you turned the corner and came into contact with Bucky, you chuckled to yourself - he clearly had no idea just how nervous and guilty he looked.
"Mr. Barnes?" You called, walking over to him "The strangest thing just happened..." You told him, leaning your hip against his desk.
"W-What happened, boss?" His eyes wandered around the room, unable to fixate on one thing, and desperately avoiding your gaze.
"My underwear just went missing..." You began, leaning your ass further against the edge of the desk, making it harder for him to ignore the view.
"O-oh, really? That's uh, that's weird." Bucky responded, swallowing thickly and licking his lips.
From the corner of your eye, you saw the pink string of your lingerie dangling form the side of his chair. You bit your lip, bent over and hooked your finger on the waistband of the underwear, pulling it towards you.
"Funny, here they are." You said, in a flirty tone, as you held them up next to you.
Your gaze fell upon Bucky. The poor intern, whom was stiff in his seat, red in the face and wide eyed. His pretty eyes, shining with the faint light of the office, followed your figure, as you sat on the desk in front of him.
"Why is this here, James? And why is it dripping with your cum?" You questioned with sarcasm, fake indignation painted on your face.
His mouth open and closed, as his eyes frantically looked between your panties, your face and your body.
"Do you want to fuck me, Mr. Barnes? Do you want to know what I taste like?" You teased, slowly pulling your skirt up, flashing him your naked pussy.
"Yes. Fuck, yes please."
His eyes were glued to your cunt, and his voice came out almost in a desperate whisper, like a thirsty man seeing water, like a starving man catching a glimpse of food. Bucky scooted his chair closer to your body, and you spread your thighs so that he could fit in between your legs.
Bucky's mind was racing, he wondered if he had passed out and was having a wet dream. His warm hands were slowly placed on your inner thighs, squishing them lightly as if checking if the sight before him was real. The intern looked up at you.
"Can I?..." He asked.
His innocent face and soft voice whilst begging to eat you out made your stomach tighten in anticipation. You bit your lower lip, and nodded slowly. You weren't sure you had quite finished the nod, but Bucky's lips were on you the second you showed consent.
The man's hands wrapped around your body and brought you closer as he ate you out like a hungry man. His tongue was overwhelmingly good, circling your clit over and over, pausing only to tongue-fuck you.
"Fuck!" You swore, as one of your hands messed up his hair even more, by gripping and tugging on it.
Bucky was drunk on your taste, too hypnotized by your scent to notice you had started rocking your hips against his face, chasing the good feeling that started building up in the bottom of your stomach.
Your jaw dropped and your chest began rising and falling as you could feel the wave of pleasure building up in the distance. Bucky's tongue became fiercer when he heard your moans, and soon enough your thighs tightened around his head and your fingers tugged on his locks. Your hips rocked harder against his face as you came, and loudly so.
Once you freed his head from the grasp of your thighs, he pulled away from your cunt, his lips and chin were coated with your juices and his eyes were half lidded, as if he had received just as much pleasure from giving you head.
You placed two fingers under his chin, making him stand up before you. You gripped the man's chin and brought him forward, instantly commanding the wild kiss. Bucky's hands explored your body cautiously, threading the new territory carefully.
The two of you pulled away, and you couldn't help but to notice the painful looking bulge that had formed in his pants. Your index finger traced the outline of his cock, making the man hiss.
"We can't have this, can we?" You seductively questioned, as you stood up.
You placed a hand on the confused man's chest and pushed him backwards, until the back of Bucky's knees hit his chair. He sat down and watched as you knelt in front of him, in complete disbelief - there was no way a woman like you was going to suck him off. But there you were, unzipping his pants, and pulling his cock out.
Bucky hissed and a small, strained moan left his throat when your lips came into contact with his tip. You slowly took more and more of him, looking into his eyes as you did so. The man's eyebrows furrowed and his mouth opened, still shocked that you were actually giving him a blowjob.
Your hand followed the movements of your head, jerking him off as well, and the intern was overflowing with pleasure and excitement. Just as it had happened to you, his chest began heaving up and down.
"Let me fuck you..." He suddenly blurted out, surprising even himself.
Bucky didn't mean to say it, those were his thoughts, that he intended to keep to himself, but your lips around his cock and the way your tongue swirled around his member was driving him stupid.
"What did you say, baby?" You asked, with a perverted glint in your eye, as your hand kept jerking him off.
"Let me fuck you, please... I can't take it anymore, I need to fuck you, Miss." Bucky begged.
You didn't reply, you simply stood up, grabbed Bucky's tie, and pulled him along with you, as you walked into your office. You moved the papers and the computer out of the way hurriedly, and sat on your desk, before tugging on Bucky's tie once more and pulling him in for a kiss.
His hands grabbed your thighs and slowly inched closer to your ass.
"You want to fuck me, baby?" You questioned, as you ran a hand through his hair, but you already knew the answer.
"Please."
You guided his cock into you, feeling the delicious stretch of his shaft. A soft moan left your lips as Bucky sighed, almost relieved to finally be inside of you. You laid on the desk as the intern began slowly moving. He relished every moment, every second that your walls tightly squeezed him, and Buck wanted to take his time, but the need and desperation took over, forcing him to fuck you harder and faster.
Your whole body bounced with the unexpected strength of Bucky's thrusts - the intern was fucking you beyond your expectations, and it was obvious, from the pleasure-filled expression on your face, and from the unholy sounds that escaped you.
"Am- Am I being good?" He asked, gripping your hips tightly.
"So good... So, so good, baby..." You managed to say between moans and whimpers.
"Fuck-" Bucky cursed under his breath, feeling accomplished for bringing you pleasure.
His thrusts became sloppy and uneven - the man was close.
"You wanna cum, baby?"
He stole a glance at your face, momentarily peeling them away from your pussy, and nodded.
"Please, can I cum?"
"Go on baby, cum in me, make a mess."
Your words were orders to him, Bucky's body curled and he hovered over you, kissing and licking your neck to muffle his own moans, as his cock twitched inside of you, filling you to the brim.
You softly caressed the boy's hair and whispered praises, making the blood rush to his cheeks once more.
When Bucky came down from his high, he realized what he had done and pride, as well as embarrassment, washed over him.
"Wait here, Miss, I'll get you uh... a towel! I'll get you a towel to clean you up."
The boy was a good addition to the team, as it would seem, and you couldn't help but wonder just how helpful he would be
mdni banner credit: @cafekitsune
not proofread yet, enjoy
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dykedvonte · 3 months ago
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You ever just see a Mouthwashing take that makes you want to bang your head into a wall? I literally just saw someone claim Curly couldn't have been emotionally abused by Jimmy before the crash because he was in a higher position of power than Jimmy.
-Shrimp Anon
The mouthwashing fandom has shown me that people genuinely do believe that certain types of abuse are not as detrimental as other types especially when they deem those immune/resistant, ergo, believing one is objectively worse no matter how it affects the person nor the intersections of power, history and dynamics at play.
Get ready cause this is a yap session:
Cause like it's heavily implied that Curly and Jimmy's friendship was toxic and abusive, pointedly in the direction of how Jimmy uses Curly's belief/comfort in him. Curly wasn't forced to enable Jimmy but he was emotional and mentally on edge around him in almost every scene in some way. Mental and emotional abuse are not contingent on what positions you have at work. Yeah, he's Jimmy's boss but he was Jimmy's friend first and it's like getting into Psych discussion to talk about how social power tends to overshadow any perceived organizational power in the human mind. People are concerned about their jobs ofc but they tend to hang onto and put more value/investment into their personal relationships, hence why there tends to be laws and restrictions around mixing the two.
I always see the sentiments that "Curly is a grown ass man", "Curly is bigger than Jimmy", "Curly is Jimmy's boss", "He just needed a backbone" as criticisms of Curly and while I do agree that on the surface level all of these to be true and viable ways Curly could've taken more control of the situation, I often look at the parallels of Anya and Curly as victims of Jimmy pre/post crash.
The way Jimmy talks to Anya post crash is how he talked to Curly in the pre-crash segments. It's hard to pin-point mainly because we know he hates and wants nothing to do with Anya compared to his contrary but similarly handled obsessions with Curly. It's a weird sort of "honey-moon" effect of abuse Jimmy does in terms of emotional and mental victimization. He is always horrid to Anya, always talking down or questioning her abilities and thoughts in a situation, this of course includes the harassment and assault. However, he has a moment of attempted gentleness/conditioning when he question her about the mouthwash when she's contemplating drinking it at the table. The key difference is he has no personal investment in Jimmy outside wanting nothing to do with him, meaning there is no sort of romanticized version of him that he can condition her off of. He knows this, hence, why he always reverts to trying to make her to scared to oppose him.
This sort of give and take of "kindness" doesn't work on her because she knows he is just doing it to take more from her than whatever he could possibly give but it reflects even the "softer" scenes between him and Curly where he always rewords or rephrases Curly's sentiments and concerns to sound more shallow. He is feigning a deeper understanding by reworking Curly's emotions into something bad and needing to be hidden. Everything is laced with envy and resentment, an outburst just around the corner, I mean he even slams the table in the birthday party scene, a tactic in emotional manipulation to set the victim on edge and cloud their ability to respond. Even if Curly knows Jimmy won't get physical in that moment, the physical actions is intended to make him back down in the confrontation in case it does. This is something that is just not person specific. It ingrains itself into how you interact with the world and life and it shows in major and minor ways with Curly.
Post-crash, the abusive nature is more in tandem to the physical victimization Anya went through and the stripping of voice and autonomy we see take place. Like the parasite in HFIM, Jimmy speaks for Curly most of the time and puts words in his mouth, similarly to how he takes Anya's plans as his own. He very commonly, with the both of them mind you, supplements the worst aspects of himself into them; pettiness, selfishness, lack of understanding... And tries to cover himself with their best qualities; kindness, planning, initiative, etc...
These parallel are just to say that positional power has little to do with if a person can be abused and how it can even be flipped to further the abuse. There is no doubt that Curly could've picked up on Jimmy's envy of his position hence another reason he never confronted him as a Captain but as a friend as doing so would immediately put Jimmy in a space to be confrontational/combative.
I think the disdain some people have when they talk about the heavily implied if not implicitly stated emotional/mental abuse Curly experienced being Jimmy's friend is when treating it as an excuse to why he didn't do more. I can understand that completely because it is not an excuse to why he didn't do more but is a very real reason people in his position in these scenarios can experience whether in the context of a work or social environment. However, I also think the way people talk about it really does demonstrate a bigger problem when talking about abuse when somehow who is/was abused is either part of the issue or enabled it.
Harkening back to the sentiments about Curly's inaction regarding Jimmy, I think the exact phrases I used/have seen show how there is an inherent belief that it is easier to overpower the effects of emotional/mental abuse that go in tandem with the perception of Curly as someone who should be able to. There is not an age you suddenly stop being susceptible to abuse nor a set point or low where you realize how it has affected you. You don't suddenly know to stand up or put a face on to face your abuser nor admit that you inadvertently enabled them to subjugate someone else to the same treatment. Maybe it's my psych brain but their is this growing belief that direct action is somehow easy or always the best method with the game shows you instances where it is not always the case. In real life that rings true too. He should have done more, but it's not impossible to see why he struggled to find a way or didn't even if it makes us mad.
It's not easy to suddenly gain a "back-bone". You don't immediately want to resort to aggression, especially if it mirrors the type you were a victim to. You don't want to believe you allowed yourself to be treated this bad, let it get that bad or allowed something bad to happen to someone else. It is easy to be in denial, to retreat to your thoughts or make excuses to avoid the painful truth. It's frustrating but in a way we know is relatable. It why we both hate and love Curly for it. We know we'd be better, we think we'd be better, we like to think we wouldn't falter in the same ways but it's always easier to say that from the outside looking in. It's easy to see what he was doing wrong because we are seeing it, not him, but the game really does make you picture what you would do if this was your raw reality and it's why this debate about Curly seems so never ending/contradictory. We can all say what we'd do but bottom line is that's much different when you're in the moment with all the emotions and human feelings attached.
I personally think Mouthwashing tackles the themes of rape culture, enabling, toxic masculinity, types of abuse and patriarchy in ways that are meant to deconstruct the typical straightforward views we mostly have of these concepts and how little subtilities of them are just as, if not more, detrimental than the overt/obvious parts. The game deals with the idea of little details and bigger picture in a way to show that sometimes the bigger picture is not the issue but the little details that make it up. It's why I have a personal dislike of depictions of Jimmy as the typical horrible person who would of course do something like this because the game is about noticing the little warning signs, the foreshadowing and foresight.
It's why I dislike the typical discussion of "bro code" and "boys will be boys" for the game because the game makes a point to avoid the standard depictions of such. It is about the type of men who still enable despite not condoning, agreeing or even perpetuating harmful beliefs because they can't see the little details or the ways it seeps into their everyday. The severity is not obvious to them as it was not obvious to Curly, Swansea or even Daisuke the way it was to a woman like Anya. There are little details about Jimmy that should ring alarms but if you are too naive like Daisuke, too distant like Swansea or too conditioned like Curly, they are just off markers.
There is 100% more constructive/concise ways to say "Curly was a victim of Jimmy's abuse on an emotional and mental aspect that clouded his judgements and perceptions in the scenario" while also critiquing on the side of "Curly still had a responsibility to protect Anya as a crew mate and Captain that he failed to do due to biases and stigma's he failed to surpass" without the weird condemnation people give him about should've knowing better than to let himself be manipulated by a person he considered a close, if not family/best-friend and had his own reasons to trust initially. Also stop being weird about victims of abuse in general with this fandom, like sorry not everyone has a like social epiphany the moment someone's nasty to them. People are treating it like you immediately know when you are in a toxic relationship immediately or comprehend when a person is actively dangerous and either it's your fault for not knowing how to leave/cut them off or you deserve it. Like the hypocrisy of people believing how certain fans treat the story reflect their irl views but not their own is crazy.
End statement is: I honestly don't even know man, I've been writing this too long and just like no man on that ship was perfect or really helped Anya when it mattered and I feel like pitting them against each other in discussion on who did the least or most or how it was justified sucks cause in the end Anya always did the most and best thing for herself.
#i also think it is because mouthwashing is first and foremost a game about rape culture and the patriarchy especially in work spaces#regarding women and centering conversation around Curly a man rubs people wrong because it does overshadow that commentary#but it still mixes other topics into its initial theming and message on how abuse conditions you to accept certain things that are harmful#and how getting used to a culture/enviornment does not mean you are happy healthy or most importantly safe in it. I personally like to#explore those aspects where it mixes all the themes so we can discuss the ways you have to watch out for things because there is a differen#in the idea Curly enabled Jimmy just because they were bros and because he was an example of another man afraid to step out from what#is a still oppressive system that does try to punish those who act against it even if they fall in the category of those who would benefit#from it as Jimmy and PE 100% represent that sort of misogynistic system where men that would be “good” are altered until they follow line#in a way both on the personal and professional level as PE is the corporate lock out and Jimmy represents the social and its just the issue#that the discussion of it sounds like “in defense of men” when I am more so trying to discuss how it is much deeper than men being scared t#upset other men but complacency is rewarded by not becoming another person subjugated hence as all the moments Curly does try to do#something we can tie it back to how Jimmy reacts and a possible penality from PE where we now need to address the ways to combat those#two concepts so we dont get cases like Curly or Daisuke or Swansea where male avoidance of the issue is considered neutral or even good.#i think most of this boils down the perfect victim mentality to where if someone who underwent or is being abused is not a perfect example#or accpetible type than their abuse can not be considered a valid or substantial reason for effects on their behavior compounded with the#fact that Anya's abuse at the hands of Jimmy is a systematic issue that Curly is a part of even if unwillingly and was more physically#violating and topical cause sometimes i have to remind myself that all media is still critiqued through the lens of the culture it came out#in cause i do think about what if this game came out inlike 2014 like the conversations would be sooooooo different could you imagine it?#but back the before statement Curly isn't perfect but I feel like boiling it down if hes a good person or man is not the point of the game#but more so good people can still be part of the problem and the idea of condemning a person for one act creates a false sense of#rightouesness and justice that does not aid the victim and in fact aids the abusers in escaping blame for their mulitple behaviors as we se#how the men on the ship tend to blame Jimmy for just one act against them including himself while there is a plethora of things Anya is#concerned about with Jimmy#and its not that Curly just made one mistake with Jimmy but more so we consider his actions more damning because he didn't stop Jimmy#instead of focusing on the fact Jimmy did what he did regardless of Curly and the consequence because we already know he's bad n maladjuste#which is problem in the conversation where the individuals are blamed but the system and perputrator are overlooked in a sense of acceptiab#complacency as we know how they are and the lack of tangibility to personally affect them on a larger scale like I should just make a post#on like cutting out the face when it comes it confronting systems of oppression rather than tag talking but just ask me to clarify if#you want that like im jus trying to say we avoid talking about Jimmy and PE so much cause it is obvious what they do wrong that we make#the initial and inherent problem out to be one aspect someone in this case Curly does and the the constraints they use to force actions
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thedreadvampy · 7 months ago
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it's been a strange arc so far
when I was 19-21 and having an extremely imbalanced relationship with someone in their mid 30s I was like 'we are both adults so the fact that this is fucking me up is my fault'
when I hit my late 20s and saw how young people in their late teens and early 20s seem now I was like 'oh wait I was so fucking young I didn't know shit about my own limits or about managing relationships and I don't know why someone in their mid to late 30s would be into that except for nefarious purposes'
the weird bit is now I'm into my 30s - not even that far into my 30s - and while I still wholeheartedly believe that last thing about how young (and self destructive) 20 year olds are, I'm also kind of like 'huh, actually nobody I know that age has their shit remotely together and frankly the reason this fucked me up is because NEITHER of us knew what the fuck we were doing it how to cope, for different reasons and at different life stages, and there probably wasn't any malice or intent to control as much as there was Blind Flailing.'
#red said#this is about one specific relationship btw.#wanted to clarify that because there have been several men over 30 who fucked me up between the ages of 16 and 21#and i adamently do NOT want to keep pretending that was incompetence. that was predation. sometimes incompetent predation.#but with the person I'm thinking of? she really hurt me and the age gap and difference in life stage was a not insubstantial factor#but mostly she was just spiralling out really badly and i offered her something to hold and she did try to keep things balanced and safe#but she was very off balance at the time. so the fucking up was more that than it was about power or control#we were just both very stupid and very sensible at the same time which is a great way to dig yourselves deeper#and idk I'm like 2 or 3? years younger than she was when we met iirc#and the closer i get to her age the more I'm like yeah you know that's a human reaction. i can see how that happens.#and i kind of feel bad for the amount of bitterness I've held and malice I've ascribed because ultimately#i think it was just two people having different crises trying and failing to figure out boundaries around them#but this has come on really suddenly and it's kind of fucking me up as well#cause I'm frightened of falling back into patterns of oh it's never anyone else's fault that i got hurt#but i don't. thiiiiink so? bc it's really only this one thing. i am not making these excuses for other people.#idk. sometimes people just fuck each other up.#I'm not even sure i think it was a bad thing that it happened. a lot of bad happened but we also catalyzed a lot of change in each other.#i feel like the reason i keep picking at this is that it's complicated. it was not good. it was good.#she really fucked me up and she was a terrible friend to me at times. but she was also the first person to really look after me.#and she kind of helped me start to learn how to need other people. which was good.#when my grandma died she wrapped me in a blanket and cancelled her plans to watch TV on the couch with me#even though she barely knew me at that point#and she was one of the first people to consistently ask for consent and check in. and she did genuinely care about me.#but she also truly fucked me over a couple of times.#but mostly that was just because she was buried in a pit of despair and self loathing.#she seems a lot happier now. i hope she is. i don't know if i want to know her particularly but i think if she's happy she'd be nice to know
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yourgoldendeer · 3 days ago
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Jeez girl I regret looking up the arsenal fc tag cause I ended up on your bullshit again.
> "haaland told y'all to act humble and clearly y'all haven't won shit so you are worse than us, act humble"
First of all, you make the critical error of forgetting WHO haaland said that to. Mikel Arteta. Let's leave the opposition manager dynamic out for now and remember that Mikel, for 2 years, was basically pep's apprentice at City. Haaland somehow having the gall to insult a man who worked with him, with his team and with his manager for 2 years on live TV is a pretty heinous act in and of itself. Let's also look at the context of the match, where, after a dubious red card (if you want to argue it's not dubious kindly don't, szboszlai committed the same "offense" a week later with no foul, and after wolves v arsenal I don't think you wanna argue that PGMOL is an impartial body if you want to come off as having any common sense), arsenal had to revert back to Mourinho tactics and somehow a team that had previously never done anything of the sort, managed to hold up a low block that took city 5 full minutes of extra time to break through. The same city (only major injury at the time was rodri) who got all your shiny trophies.
Secondly, yes, this team has not won anything. Why is that? Inexperience. On both the players and the manager, and this is something everyone in the arsenal sphere knows. And yet, we've come close. Closer than any other team to Manchester City, despite not having the finances, officiating bias (as shown in above para, michael oliver, but he is merely one of many many examples), or experience. I know to gloryhunters like most city fans the point of coming second is lost, but ask anyone who actually cares about football: SAF and Wenger was the greatest rivalry in the prems, despite the former completely outshining the latter. And yet, not for a single season, untill the last match did man u or arsenal fans mock each other (aside from the typical banter one expects from what had basically developed into a derby).
> "still not winning the league"
Man City away, liverpool at home, both Brighton games, wolves away. Do I need to give more examples of arsenal getting bent over by the PGMOL untill that fact goes through your thick head? On top of that, injuries. The only other clubs with injuries as bad as ours are spurs and city, and everyone can see they're both shells of their usual selves. Add to the mix the fact that edu gaspar left in the middle of the season and the board refused to replace him even with the oncoming January window.
As for your wonderful advice, don't you worry ma'am we've done that already. For 10 years. For a whole decade we have endured abuse and laughter, to our club, players and 2 extremely talented ex-managers (not to mention the arteta out crowd who must suffer from severe delusions). And yet, here we are. We keep our heads up, despite losses, despite injuries, despite being the refs' guinea pigs for what can fly under mainstream media. However, perhaps it is time for city fans to apply this advice too? Yesterday your manager set up some of the worst tactical decisions of his career, such as benching khusanov and playing marmoush out of his preferred position, and after an 18 year old LB scored against his side, visibly tried his best not to break down in tears. Haaland, despite scoring a goal, seemingly forgot how to make runs (and it's not me saying this: it's thierry henry, and before you argue he's stupid cause he's an ex-arsenal player, do remember he also played under pep's barcelona). Eras end, and pep has without a doubt begun to lose his grip in the game. But I'm no City fan, and I respect the man, so I hope you lot won't turn on him when he stops putting in the numbers.
This is already a very long post, and I'm sure you will use it to fuel your "arsenal fans are sensitive" headcanon, but for those impartial readers who stumble upon this, let me clarify, arsenal are not against banter. Viera and Keane physically held themselves back from killing each other. SAF and Mourinho literally had fistfights with Wenger, but it comes down to respect. No matter how much SAF cussed out Wenger, he hugged him at his farewell. Mourinho still refuses to agree with the man and yet never raises his voice against him. Had haaland not thrown a ball at Gabriel, not tried to throw his weight around on an 18 year old, not pretended like arteta's some lowlife, we would not have had this reaction.
im going to explain this like someone would explain it to a little kid bc some arsenal fans are very dumb wont say another word for it bc they are also very uh sensitive...?
haaland told your players to stay humble because they act and celebrate as if they have won a treble or a ucl or a prem (yk all the trophies city has won) so he said it for you guys to chill out and know your place. Now, the team and the whole fanbase got super offended even though everyone knew what haaland meant and he is right. However, the fanbase and your team have proven his point countless times throughout the season....and you just don't get it. This match probably means to you exactly what it meant to city to complete the treble or 4 in a row. We are not on the same level. That is just a literal fact.
now are city having a bad season...100% that is also a fact. However, even though we are having a bad season does this mean haalands point is not true? no. it is true. the past 2-3 years your whole arguement has been "well how can we compete with them" we've been shit. and your still not winning the league HAHAHA. so my advice to you arsenal people is to look on the inside and just maybe come to the conclusion you guys think youre the shit when you are simply not...?
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maydays-medbay · 1 year ago
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I've been thinking about the Ruination Corporation lore and I've started to play with the idea that the corps has kind of expanded over time, leading to many facilities where they run their shady dealings. These facilities will probably also have satellite sites/facilities where they store things and/or focus on the different aspects of what they do. With that being said, I now also realize that I'm going to have to think more about these different facilities and how they run. I'm definitely considering each of the Salvific Six getting their own facilities that they run (Paradigm's being the largest and most important) with the others being less grandiose and more hidden to the average onlooker, but with that comes another problem.
I'll have to create characters that run these extra facilities while these members are otherwise occupied, AND I'll have to consider making characters for the satellite facilities. There's....a lot of work ahead of me lol.
(Now that I'm thinking about it...maybe we'll see some old faces within the corps. But you didn't hear that from me 😉)
Each of the characters who run in the absence of a Salvific Six member are those sincerely trusted by the member to run their operations. I can imagine that many of the right-hand members are reflections of their overseer, though not all of them are.
(Keep in mind, many of these operations and facilities run independently and can sometimes clash with each other. When that happens, the members can gather at the main facility to have a meeting to clear things up, with Paradigm often having the final word)
The only exception to this rule would be Paradigm's facility, as I think they would entrust Vyrox with their tasks whenever they leave. Paradigm is the ONLY member that does this, as they simply find many of their rank-and-file members lacking. Their trust simply doesn't trickle down far enough for them to see any member outside of the Six to carry out their work, and even then, many of the members they'd find too self-interested to be able to adequately run their entire regime without catastrophic consequences.
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faaun · 2 years ago
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please delete your philosophy gpt-3 post. it's most likely stolen writing.
philosophy?? idk which one you're referring to sorry. also no . if it's the poetry one, see in tags. actually see in tags anyway. actually pls look at my posts on AI too . sorry if it's badly worded i'm very tired :')
#GPT3 is a large language model (LLM) and so is trained on massive amounts of data#so what it produces is always going to be stolen in some way bc...it cant be trained on nothing#it is trained on peoples writing. just like you are trained on peoples writing.#what most ppl are worried about w GPT3 is openAI using common crawl which is a web crawler/open database with a ridiculous amt of data#in it. all these sources will obviously include some published books in which case...the writing isnt stolen. its a book out in the open#meant to be read. it will also include Stolen Writing as in fanfics or private writing etc that someone might not want shared in this way#HOWEVER . please remember GPT3 was trained on around 45TB of data. may not seem like much but its ONLY TEXT DATA. thats billions and#billions of words. im not sure what you mean by stolen writing (the model has to be trained on...something) but any general prompt you give#it will pretty much be a synthesis of billions and billions and billions of words. it wont be derived specifically from one stolen#text unless that's what you ask for. THAT BEING SAID. prompt engineering is a thing. you can feed the model#specific texts and writings and make sure you ask it to use that. which is what i did. i know where the writing is from.#in the one post i made abt gpt3 (this was when it was still in beta and not publicly accessible) the writing is a synthesis of my writing#richard siken's poetry#and 2 of alan turing's papers#im not sure what you mean by stolen writing and web crawling def needs to have more limitations . i have already made several posts about#this . but i promise you no harm was done by me using GPT3 to generate a poem#lol i think this was badly worded i might clarify later but i promise u there are bigger issues w AI and the world than me#feeding my own work and a few poems to a specifically prompt-engineered AI#asks#anon
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alienzil · 6 months ago
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Nanny Danny
“That is a whole ass baby,” was the only thought running through Lex Luthor’s head when the scientist proudly showed him the tube containing Project KR. It was not remotely the sort of thing he would normally think and most definitely not what he had expected to be thinking the first time he saw the clone.
He’d been pleased when he’d read the reports indicating the success of KR after years of failures. Lex had poured millions of dollars and literally his own blood into ensuring a clone of the alien could be made, one that would be under his total control instead of the unknown aspirations of Superman.  He’d wanted to see the fruits of his labors personally but this…
It. No, not an it. He scrunched his tiny face and smacked his lips and…did he smirk? Was that HIS SMIRK on that baby’s face?! No. No. Babies this small didn’t smile or smirk. They passed gas and their sleep deprived and addled parents mistook it for an intelligent response. He’d heard enough inane conversations in the Lexcorp office about the various progeny of his employees to pick up on that but still. This child had Kryptonian DNA, not to mention his own contribution. Surely, he was far more advanced than the dribbling potato shaped lump of an infant whose pictures he’d been forced to smile and nod over when Mark from accounting had rudely shoved them in his face at the last quarterly budget meeting. Yes, that was definitely a smirk. His, that was his smirk.
“So as you can see its growth is well within expected parameters and we’re planning to start phase one of accelerating the maturation process tomorrow once the testing is do-”
“Take him out.”
“Sir? The testing can all be accomplished while it remains in the tube. There’s no need to-”
“I said, take him out. The project is cancelled.”
“What?! Mr. Luthor you can’t!”
“I think you’ll find I can. Now get me my son.”
*****
Two years later
“Call them again”
“Sir, I’ve called them seven times. They won’t answer.”
“Then call another agency!”
“There isn’t another agency, Sir”
Lex glared at his assistant who stared back at him impassively. Mercy stood by the door staring off into the distance and pretending she didn’t notice him being bested by his own secretary.
He stopped himself from shouting again and took a deep breath before asking, “Then what, exactly, do you propose I do Mrs. Anderson? Adjust my entire schedule around naptimes? Find a toddler size lab coat and safety goggles and bring my son with me to tour the new clean energy project on Thursday? Perhaps buy a tiny business suit while I’m at it for the next board meeting?”
“I’m not suggesting anything of the sort, Mr. Luthor. I’m telling you that no childcare agency in Metropolis will return my calls anymore. Most won’t even answer.  You’ve gone through 27 nannies in the last 3 months. You need someone better suited to your son’s…special needs.”
Lex snorted. “Special needs might be a bit of understatement. He can lift a car over his head and his favorite word right now is No.”
He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Thank you for…clarifying the situation, Marjorie. If there’s nothing else, you can leave.”
His secretary didn’t move. She looked at him like she was waiting for something and now that he was paying attention, he saw she was holding a file.  “Did you have a suggestion?”
Looking pleased with herself she responded, “Actually, yes, I did.”
“Well?”
She set the file on his desk and flipped it open. He looked down at the first page and raised an eyebrow, “What am I looking at here?”
“This,” she responded pulling out the top set of papers and spreading them out, “is the employee file and background check for Daniel J. Fenton, an intern that started in our engineering department about 4 months ago. He has one sibling, two parents and several close friends he regularly meets with. His current supervisor has nothing but good things to say about him and reports he gets along well with all his coworkers.”
She set out the next set of papers, neatly arranging them on the desk to be easily seen. “These are newspaper articles and screenshots of social media posts regarding a small town vigilante locally known as Phantom. The same small town, Mr. Fenton is from coincidentally. Also coincidentally, Phantom made his first appearance only a few weeks after Mr. Fenton was involved in a minor accident in his parent’s home laboratory when he was 14, the medical records for the incident are included.”
“Hmm,” Lex said observing several photos of Phantom and a younger Fenton arranged in order of similar poses and facial expressions and printed out side by side.
“Finally,” she said handing him the last set of papers directly, “this would be a report from the lab Mr. Fenton works in from an incident that happened yesterday. A test with a new protype went wrong and started a fire. Everyone evacuated per protocol when the alarms went off but one of the other interns was working on a programming issue off to the side of the lab while wearing headphones and didn’t hear the alarm or notice the fire. Mr. Fenton noticed his absence and returned to the lab to get him out.” She stopped talking and let him look at the last several pages in the file, a series of photographs of the lab.
“Is this ice?”
“Yes, it is. It’s several inches thick and covers half of the lab. It completely put out the fire leaving minimal damage.”
“This machine was moved?”
“It was. It was very close to the flames and would have required replacement if exposed to extreme heat or cold. That particular piece of equipment also weighs several thousand pounds and was bolted to the floor.”
Lex read through everything in detail then clasped his hands under his chin and stared at the photo of Daniel Fenton for several moments before turning back to his waiting secretary.
“Have HR send Mr. Fenton up. I’d like to offer him a promotion.”
5K notes · View notes
saintobio · 7 months ago
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐍 & 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑.
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rule #1: even if the world crumbles down in front of you, never, ever trust sylus with your heart. because even the fiercest flames can't match the danger of loving a man like him.
♱ pairings. sylus, fem!reader
♱ genre. angst, smut, boss/assistant, 18+
♱ tags. villain!reader, reader works for onychinus, reader is not l&ds!mc, set in the N109 zone, unrequited love, profanity, petnames (kitten, baby doll, darling, sweetie), unprotected sex, throatfucking (m!receiving), cunnilingus (f!receiving), cum-eating, slight dom/sub play, spitting, hair-pulling, spanking, biting, choking, overstimulation, bondage, blindfolding, lots of jealousy, possessiveness, yandere themes, stalking, blood, violence, usage of guns, allusions to prostitution, killings, death, *coughs* that one harley+joker scene.
♱ notes. 8.2k words. inspired by this song bcos i can’t stop thinking abt him for days
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“Boss is looking for ‘ya.”
It was already nighttime when you emerged from the library, only to encounter the eccentric twins, Luke and Kieran, lounging on the window sill as if they had been waiting for you to come out of your bat cave. They always donned their signature uniforms of leathered attire and beaked masks, an outfit reminiscent of Sylus’s mechanical crow, Mephisto. Behind their silhouettes, the red glow of the blood moon poured through the window, casting an eerie, crimson hue across the dimly lit hallways. Any normal person would have found such an atmosphere disturbing. 
But that was the N109 Zone for you—a dark, lawless, enigmatic place you called home.
“Is he in his room already?” you asked, quietly closing the door behind you. In your arm was a thick book, an archival file you had spent nearly two hours searching for. It contained records of historical events, of life before the Chronorift Catastrophe of 2034, before the Deepspace Tunnel was opened. Sylus had tasked you with finding the file for reasons he didn’t care to disclose.
A curious Luke tilted his head and swung his feet in the air as he pointed at the book. “Let me guess,” he began with a teasing tone, “Is that book some sort of Kama Sutra?”
Kieran’s snigger followed. “I bet it is, since it’s her birthday in a few hours.”
“Very funny,” was your quick retort. “It’s a history book, you idiots. Sylus needs it for something.”
The twins then let out a teasing coo. “Aww, so no birthday ‘fun’ for you?” asked Luke, “I thought sleeping with your boss would have its perks, too.”
Although his comment was meant to be a joke, you bristled at his jab at your professionalism. It had been a few years since you started this kind of relationship with Sylus, with him being your boss and the leader of Onychinus, and with you as his personal assistant and, well… escort. 
In and out of the N109 Zone, Sylus was a popular man for both good and bad reasons. His notoriety was mostly for his influence, and sometimes for his crimes. He was known to be unforgiving—a brute man who carried no conscience towards his enemies. One wrong move and you’d find yourself six feet under. Perhaps, that was what you admired so much about him. His aura, his domineering persona, his dangerous charm. He had mastered the art of seduction, the sin of hunger and desire. His power. There was no one like him. 
And so, you were the happiest woman alive when what began as an unrequited admiration eventually blossomed into something more. Spending more time with your boss played a pivotal role in gaining his interest towards you, because day-by-day he started to learn how much of an asset you could be for him. You were his prized possession. You were the most powerful weapon in his arsenal. Despite Luke and Kieran’s constant warnings of the abyss you were throwing yourself into, you were willing to be a pawn in Sylus’s game of chess. You wanted to be the Queen next to a King. Because that meant you were too valuable to simply set aside.
Yet Sylus was never one to clarify the nature of your relationship. He’d often say there was no need to clear up such a silly thing. All you knew was that when Sylus needed you, he had to have you. In all ways. He’d still act professional and distant depending on the audience. But behind closed doors, he spoiled you like a princess, treated you like a queen, and worshiped you like a saint. He was a sadistic, draconic man towards others, but he always had a gentle spot for you. Only for you. 
And that was a spot you would never, ever share with anyone else.
“Whatever. I gotta go see him,” you excused yourself from the two, just as one of them tossed a black box to you. “Is this my present?”
The twins jumped down from the window sill in perfect sync. “Advance happy birthday to the princess of Onychinus. Make sure to open the gift when boss is around.”
Your lips spread into a smile as you held the box in your free hand. Luke and Kieran giving you a gift was the last thing you would expect from them. “Why, thank you—”
“Yeah, yeah. You should go see him now,” said Kieran, pushing you forward by the shoulders. “Can’t keep boss waiting.”
By the time you reached Sylus’s door, the twins’ distant, mischievous chuckles then echoed down the hall. You couldn’t help but laugh and shake your head before grasping the door handles, stepping inside of Sylus’s bedroom with slow, measured steps. You didn’t know why you were nervous. As the door shut behind you, the familiar scent of leather, cardamom, and sandalwood immediately enveloped you like a fragrant, hallucinatory mist. However, his king-sized bed lay empty with the sheets still perfectly arranged. There were no signs of him anywhere, until the sound of cascading rainwater drew your gaze toward the bathroom, where his tall figure was visible through the frosted glass. He was engaged in a steamy shower, clearly unaware of the intruder that entered his room just now.
“Boss?” you called out, standing by his bed. “I’ll leave the file on your nightstand.” 
Receiving no response, you placed the book on the bedside table and waited for him patiently. Should you stay or should you leave? It usually depends on Sylus’s mood. There were nights where he wanted to be left alone, and nights where he craved your presence. His lack of response may be a sign to exit his room. But as you prepared yourself to leave thinking that Sylus purposely ignored you, a certain black velvet box resting on his nightstand suddenly caught your eye. Unlike the typical small box that might hold a ring, this one was more rectangular in shape and you were drawn to it like a moth to a flame. It was your curiosity that led you to touch the soft surface, wondering what lay beneath it.
Is it for me…?
“They say curiosity kills a cat.” Sylus’s deep, resonant voice broke your trance as he stepped out of the shower. Wrapped in nothing but a white towel around his waist, his muscular form was on full display as he approached you with assertive footsteps. Every curve of his muscle flexed as he moved. And his carnelian eyes sparkled with amusement, the corners of his thin, pinkish lips curving upward when he walked closer to you. “Touching my things without permission. Are you asking to be punished, kitten?”
Your heart raced as he closed the distance. Yet, maintaining composure around Sylus was a skill you had honed since the day you began working for him. “Oh, forgive me, master,” you merely teased. “It caught my attention.”
“Curious about the box or who it’s for?” he taunted, raking his fingers through his damp gray hair. Beads of water glistened on his bare skin, and you found your gaze wandering to his perfectly sculpted abs until you felt his finger lifting your chin up. “Eyes on me, honey. Don’t tell me you thought that velvet box was for you?”
So it isn’t? You suppressed a disappointed expression, but your clouded eyes betrayed you. “No, I… just curious.”
“Is that a sad kitten I see?” he asked, tilting his head to catch even the slightest changes in your expression. “You wanna open the box?”
“No, thank you.” Your stubbornness prevailed this time.
Sylus’s lips curved into a smile as he stepped closer, his arms wrapping around your waist and turning you gently. He then went on to open the velvet box and fastened a silver necklace around your neck. “Happy birthday, my darling,” he whispered into your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine as he planted a tender kiss on your shoulder. “That’s a red beryl crystal—one of the rarest gemstones in the world.”
Your eyes sparkled in awe as you touched the red pendant, feeling its exquisite value beneath your fingertips. Oh… to receive such beautiful, rare gem from the boss of Onychinus himself. You were too overwhelmed with appreciation as you turned and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Sy!” you exclaimed, your heart swelling at his effort. “It’s beautiful. I love it.”
He returned your gaze with a smug look. “You better love it. I sacrificed two gold bullets just to get that for you, sweetie.”
“You…” Your eyes widened at the implication behind his words. Someone’s life was lost in exchange for your birthday gift. It was beyond your expectations to know that Sylus went to such macabre lengths just to surprise you, but banality was his worst enemy, and the last thing he would do was be called boring over things like birthday surprises. “...Well, thank you. I’ll treasure it forever, my love.”
“Now,” he said, abruptly breaking the sweet moment as he glanced at the other box on his bed. You realized he was scrutinizing the gift from the twins, which you had unwittingly left behind when you hugged him. His expression darkened slightly, clearly displeased at the foreign object on his bed. “Care to tell me where this is from? Or did some other bastard get you a present before I did?” he questioned, “Tell me his name, his identity. Give me his location.”
Chuckling, you cupped his cheek and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “It’s not what you think. Luke and Kieran gave it to me before I came here.”
Still unimpressed, he raised an eyebrow and nodded toward the box. “Who told you to receive gifts from other men?” 
“I…”
“Let’s see what’s inside, shall we?”
“I’m sure it’s just some…” you began, hurriedly untying the ribbon at the sight of Sylus’s growing pique. But as you opened the box, your mouth dropped in shock upon seeing a black lingerie set inside. An awkward laugh forced its way out of your mouth. Those two! “I… Ha-ha! They fool around too much. Don’t mind it. I’m just gonna throw it away.”
Sylus’s frown quickly transformed into a deep chuckle as he lifted the lingerie by the strap, his eyes widening with interest as he examined the lace corset. “Why don’t you try wearing it first, baby doll?” he suggested, an idea clearly forming in his mind. “It’s rude to toss aside a gift.”
He knows exactly what he’s doing, you thought, feeling your cheeks flush under his gaze. You almost lost your mind when he looked down at you with a roguish smirk, like he was an animal who’s about to devour his first meal in a long time. “You really want me to put it on?”
“Since it’s your special day,” he insisted, settling at the edge of his bed while keeping you positioned between his legs, “Let me help you with that.” His tone was more command than suggestion as he slowly unbuttoned your shirt, peeling it away from your body. “That’s it, be a good kitten. Just follow your master’s orders and you’ll do just fine.”
You felt his cold fingertips brushing against your chest as he slipped your blouse down, his hands reaching behind to unclasp your bra and set your breasts free. Instinctively, you shied away from the intensity of his gaze and covered your chest. But he was quick to grab your wrist, an eyebrow raised at your disobedience. “I’m sorry…” 
“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” he mumbled in a deep, orotund voice before continuing to undress you. His hand now fiddled with your pants, unzipping and sliding it down your legs in a painfully slow way. To your surprise, he had also pulled your underwear down along with your pants, leaving your lower body as bare as it could be. “Looks like my kitten’s prepared,” he said with a lowly chuckle, his gaze locked on your freshly waxed lady part. “But I’ll take my time before I devour you.” 
Taking a deep breath, you placed your hand on where his shoulder and neck met. All your clothes were discarded on the floor and you were nothing but naked in front of the very man you so deeply adored. He alone was the most perfect gift for you. “Boss…” your voice came out like a whisper, “About your upcoming transaction with Mr. Davis. H-He agrees to meet at the nightclub this Friday.” 
Sylus displayed a devilish smirk, noticing your effort in opening a subject to distract yourself from the compromising situation he had put you in. Though, instead of shaming you further, he had decided to play the part. “I’m surprised you managed to bargain with him,” he praised, slipping in a black, lace underwear up your legs. It barely covered your folds, and with Sylus’s warm breath tickling your cunny, you knew that your underwear would only be ripped apart sooner or later. “But then again, it must be your… irresistible charm that made him agree to meet up,” with a pause, he made a twirling gesture with his finger. “Turn around for me, sweetie.” 
You did as told, chest rising and falling deeply as your boss began to tie the corset behind you. It was too tight, but he seemed to have liked it that way, because your breasts were almost popping out of the padding. “I-I… Is it supposed to be this tight?” you asked, hesitantly, “I can’t breathe.” 
“It’s perfect.” He let out a deep chuckle before suddenly pushing you down on his bed. The sudden force left your heartbeat somersaulting, the anticipation and nervousness rising deep within you as you looked up at his predatory gaze. “Now, for the best part.” 
Sylus whipped out a handcuff and a blindfold from his drawer, and his first action was to grab your wrists and lock it within the silver handcuff around the headboard. The very next thing he did was cover your eyes with the blindfold, tying it neatly behind your head to deprive you of one of your five senses. 
“Sylus—?” You weren’t sure what was happening now, and hated that you couldn’t see his handsome face because of the blindfold. Your vision offered nothing but darkness, blinding you from whatever Sylus was planning to do with you in his king-sized bed. There were sounds of fabric rustling around you, the sound of clothing dropping to the floor, and the wet, sloppy noises near your face. When you felt the tip hitting your cheek, you realized it was Sylus touching himself, leaving you to imagine how he was stroking his hard length in front of your face, preparing his cock for a wild night ahead. “Are you—”
“Shh.” Your voice was cut off after he held a strong grip around your jaw, forcing your mouth open before the taste of his cocktip started entering your mouth. Not even halfway in, you already gagged from his cock. He was too huge for your mouth—too thick, too veiny, too lengthy. But nonetheless, despite the threads of saliva that waterfalled on the sides of your mouth, Sylus still shoved his entire length in. He didn’t care if you had started choking from his monstrous cock. He was too focused on burying his member in and out of your mouth, hitting your uvula, and allowing for tears to escape your eyes. “That mouth of yours is heaven for me, honey,” he said, your chin on his hand as he released a deep, guttural groan. “Move your tongue around it.” 
“Mmh—ngh!” Even if you were getting asphyxiated, fucking your throat was one of Sylus’s favorite foreplays. And so, like the obedient kitty you were, you started bobbing your head along to the rhythm of his thrusts. You also moved your tongue in circles around his shaft, and Sylus’s moans got louder, turning you on knowing that you were doing great at pleasuring the love of your life. You couldn’t even taste him enough, your mouth was too sore and numb at that point. 
Not even long after, he started angling his cock to your cheeks as if he was desperate to feel every inch of your mouth. When he pulled away, you released his member with a pop, and the string of saliva ended up coating your chin. While you couldn’t move your hand to wipe it off, you did try to move your wrists around the handcuff wondering if you could set yourself free. 
“Trying to break free?” Sylus’s voice was so near your right ear, the weight of his body becoming heavier on top of you. “We’re not done yet, darling.” 
A sloppy, open-mouthed kiss quickly calmed you down. You allowed Sylus to explore your mouth with his tongue, letting him lap you up like a meal he couldn’t stop eating. And with every bite on your lower lip, you were whimpering like a helpless cat. “S-Sylus,” you begged, “S-Sy… I…”
“Hmm?” His mouth was now on your neck, suckling and nibbling on the skin until they would leave purple marks all over. 
“Mmh… I want you.” 
“Not so soon, birthday girl.” Sylus’s teasing led to him pulling away from you. Now, you were unsure of his next move. But your chest only continued to move in an unsteady rhythm, the lack of sight heightening your auditory sense as a compromise. 
The next thing you knew, his manly hands started kneading at your breasts. He cupped them with such a force that made you stop breathing for a moment, focusing the sensation of his touch as he slightly pulled the padding of your corset to peek at one of your tits. In an instant, his mouth was attached to your nub. His tongue licked around your nipple, flicking it playfully before sucking and biting on your mounds. 
“Haaah!” 
“The twins did well in delivering this gift to you,” he made a subtle remark, releasing your tit from his mouth. His movements suggested he was moving down south, down to where your crotch was, and he only confirmed your thoughts when he began spreading your legs open and pulling your underwear to the side. “Look at how wet that pretty pussy is.” 
You moaned at the feeling of Sylus’s finger toying with your entrance. “T-The twins,” you barely said, squirming from the coil you were feeling inside your body. “What do you mean they delivered… the gift? Was it your idea after all?” 
Too bad you couldn’t see his face, but you were sure as hell that there was a triumphant smile spreading on it. “How else would they know your bra size, kitten?” he replied in a low voice before surprising you with the feeling of his tongue moving inside your slit, “Only I have access to your body.” 
Fuck, fuck. You were going insane. “Mhm—ngh! Aah!”
Sylus’s mouth was rough against your cunt, the tip of his nose tickling your clit as he continued spreading your labia apart to give himself better access inside your pussy. He completely devoured your sopping cunt, grunting and growling like a rabid dog as he alternated between french-kissing your pussy to burying his digits inside. His three fingers orchestrated deep and fast movements against your walls, with each stroke inside earning a wild whimper out of you. 
“Haaah—! Sylus, I… I can’t hold it… anymore.” 
He found your sweet spot soon enough, and chuckled darkly as you tried to squirm like a pathetic little kitty under him. With your legs dangling on his shoulders, he resumed abusing your sore cunt by fingering your vulva until you were at your seventh heaven. And as soon as you felt the need to pee, you knew he’d only pick up the speed of his fingers even more. 
“I-I… Please, Sy… I’m…”
For the first time in your life, you felt yourself squirting all over his bed. Your hips raised itself involuntarily, legs shaking violently on top of his shoulders. The overstimulation was sending you to ecstasy, as if you were in a place where every pleasure in the world was given to you. In your extremely vulnerable state, Sylus chose to grab the opportunity and forced all eight inches of his member inside. He hushed your moans and whimpers by kissing you on the mouth, his lips encasing yours in a loving and passionate exchange. 
This was the most erotic you had been with him. 
“You’re so fucking sexy to me, Y/N.” His cock moved fast and hard inside you. You could even feel his member twitching as your tight walls gripped him like vacuum, milking him of his every seed until he was fully drained. His lips then trailed around your jawline, then onto the valleys in between your breasts while he went on to thrust even rougher than the last. He plowed his cock inside you like there was no tomorrow, rutting and rutting and rutting like he was desperate to reach his own climax. “This pussy… Can’t get enough of your sweet pussy, kitten.” 
“Ah—aah! Mmh—ngh.” 
“More?”
“Y-Yes… please!” 
“Harder?”
“Mhmm!” 
“Faster?” 
“S-Sylus!” 
“Such a nasty girl you are,” he quipped, your hips now gripped by his strong hands as he sat in bed, readying for the final position. “Next time, I’m gonna eat your ass.” 
Gosh. You were already feeling limp under him. And when you felt his hands ripping your panties off, you knew it was game over for you. He was a hungry beast whose desire for lust would make him the worst sinner in hell. You couldn’t contain the loudness of your moans and whimpers as Sylus started thrusting into you at an otherworldly speed, your cunt feeling the soreness of his every slam. The skin-slapping sound dominated his entire room as your slick coated his entire length. At that point, he began biting on your lower leg, his cock doing its last twitch deep inside your cavern. He was balls deep inside, his bollocks slapping against your pussy with every jostle. 
“C-Cum…” you pleaded, “Inside me… Please.” 
But to your disappointment, Sylus pulled out. You didn’t know where he was releasing his seed until you felt the warm liquid shooting at your stomach. Three times you had asked him to cum inside, and he still continued to refuse. You thought your birthday would have been an exception, but Sylus was too smart for that. He knew knocking you up would ruin his plans. Getting you pregnant would make him lose his chances with her. 
“You can sleep on my bed tonight, darling.” Sylus easily released your hand from the cuffs with his evol, and did his own effort in untying the blindfold around your eyes. Little did he know that your tired eyes actually carried pain inside. “Close your eyes now. I’ll take care of the rest.”
You watched as he walked toward his nightstand, oblivious to the pessimistic thoughts swirling in your mind. If only she never existed in his life. If only she was you instead. 
“Sylus.” You fixed your gaze on his face. “I love you.”
His eyes widened in panic for a moment before he masked it with indifference. It was as if your declaration had caught him off guard, as if your years of devotion hadn’t already made it clear how deeply in love you were. 
“You shouldn’t.”
~~
The N109 Zone’s most famous nightclub was alive with pulsating lights and thumping bass on a Friday night, a den of excess and shadows where shady deals and dangerous liaisons were also par for the course. Sylus was dressed in his signature dark attire, leaning against a plush booth in the corner, and the red glow from the neon lights flickering off his white hair and crimson eyes. Meanwhile, you, draped in a red revealing dress that accentuated your every curve, moved with foxy grace as you joined Sylus at the booth.
Let’s just say Sylus didn’t exactly approve of your dress tonight. He thought it was revealing too much skin that was supposedly for his eyes only. But ever since the night of your birthday where he didn’t return your declaration of love, you started rebelling against your boss. Everything he disliked, you did out of spite. You did them out of the bitterness boiling inside you. 
Across from you two, in a secluded corner of the club, sat Sylus’s business partner, a man whose sharp suit and cold gaze reflected a ruthless demeanor. The table between you was littered with documents and blueprints, a clear indication of the shady business transaction underway—an armory deal of massive proportions, weapons, and munitions that could alter the balance of power in the underworld. Sylus’s arsenal of weapons could already destroy Linkon City if he wanted to, but there was no fun in that. It would be too much an easy disposal.
Nonetheless, Sylus’s eyes sparkled with approval as he glanced at the stacks of weaponry displayed before him. “I must say, I’m impressed,” he remarked with a sly grin. “The quality of your armory is unparalleled, Davis. You really outdid yourself this time.”
The business partner, clearly pleased, gave a curt nod. “I aim to please. But payment in cash alone doesn’t always satisfy, does it?”
Sylus leaned back, his gaze shifting to you. You were just settling next to him, your quiet presence commanding everyone’s attention as the low neckline of your red dress drew admiring glances from his business partner. Sylus was quick to notice the man’s eyes lingering on your breasts, a hint of predatory interest flickering in the old man’s gaze.
“Seems like my partner here is quite taken with you,” Sylus mused, hinting at a dangerous edge in his voice. “How about it? Would you like something other than money for your trouble?”
Mr. Davis’s eyes never left you as he smirked, a flicker of greed clouding his gaze. It was obvious to everyone in that booth that the old geezer was undressing you with his eyes. “What do you have in mind?”
Sylus’s smile grew sharper. “Y/N here is quite the treasure. If you’re interested, she could be yours for the night. Do what you want with her. What do you say?”
Unbelievable! Stunned by his words, you quickly turned to Sylus in protest. You couldn’t believe he was offering you like some whore to that old man, but you had to hide your disgust after meeting Sylus’s glowing carmine eyes shooting you a knowing look. Just play along and stay quiet, you could almost hear his voice in your head. 
Mr. Davis’s perverted gaze remained fixed on you, clearly tempted as he battled with the demons in his head. And at your boss’s signal, you were ordered to walk towards Mr. Davis apprehensively, sitting on his lap while keeping the disgust you were feeling from showing. His hand soon grazed your thigh, the other squeezing your breast. “That’s a tempting offer,” commented the old man, a triumphant grin on display, “But I’d be a fool to refuse a bad bitch like her.”
“Good,” Sylus said, his tone suddenly serious as he slid a sleek, black gun from the table. He idly toyed with the handgun, clearly unfazed. “Let’s finalize our deal then. I’ll just take this gun you’ve provided. Don’t mind if I do a little ‘quality testing’,” he added with a chilling smile, loading the magazine with .45 ACP bullets.
The business partner’s eyes widened in realization as Sylus’s hand tightened around the weapon. Panic soon flashed across Mr. Davis’s face before he desperately pushed you off his lap and scrambled to his feet, hoping to de-escalate the rift he had caused with the Onychinus leader. “Wait, Mr. Sylus! I-I didn’t mean to offend. I’m not going to steal your lady, I swear! Don’t—”
But just as you expected, Sylus’s expression remained cold and unyielding. With a swift, practiced motion, he pulled the trigger. The sound of the gunshot was sharp and final, cutting through the pulsating music and leaving a deadly silence in its wake. Mr. Davis quickly dropped to the floor, his eyes wide open and the hole on the side of his head leaking with dark, red blood. 
Your eyes remained cool and detached as you watched the scene unfold, your expression too unreadable for the killer next to you. You’ve seen worse things while living in the N109 Zone, right? was Sylus’s inner thoughts as he placed the gun back on the table, his gaze steady while regarding the now lifeless body of his former business partner. The carpet was now drenched with an unsightly amount of blood. 
Just then, the twins, Luke and Kieran immediately swung the door open with a guarded stance, worried that something had happened to the Onychinus leader whom you all served under. But upon looking at Mr. Davis’s fresh corpse sprawled out on the floor, both twins merely shrugged it off, praising their boss for dealing with the old man in a brutal fashion. 
“Leave us for a while,” Sylus instructed the twins, pulling you closer by gripping your waist, “If any of Davis’s men try to come in, kill them with no mercy.” 
“Roger that, boss.” 
As soon as the door was closed, Sylus turned to you, you recognized a demonic glow in his eyes as he tugged at the neckline of your dress. “You,” he spoke under his breath, “are testing my patience.” 
~~
You weren’t sure how to feel about it.
Heck, you couldn’t tell if you were even turned on by it, but Sylus fucking you in front of a dead man did bring in a rush of adrenaline in you. This was the fourth time he had killed a man for desiring you, and while he would usually play it off and say he was just feeling bloodthirsty at the time those incidents happened, this was the first time he was compelled to actually touch you next to a man he had just mercilessly shot. It was as though he was trying to prove a point, that dead or alive, no other man would have the pleasure of having you. 
“S-Sylus,” you let out a whimper, knees beginning to feel sore as your boss continued to hit you from behind, hips snapping against your bum in a rough, merciless manner. A stinging sensation was soon felt on your butt cheek as Sylus sent a hard, crisp slap on your ass. “Mmh—!” 
His nails dug into your hips, jostling you forwards and backwards so your ass could meet the base of his cock with how deep he was plowing himself into you. You had already creamed around his member multiple times that night, too satiated by the possessiveness Sylus was showing towards you, and yet, the signs of him stopping seemed to be a far end of the line. 
“Did you enjoy my show, kitten?” he asked, a question borne from feelings of spite, “Did you like how he was gawking at your tits? Look at his pathetic face now. You see that?” 
Sylus grabbed you by the face and forced you to look at Mr. Davis’s lifeless body for a good minute. A minute to remember such a ghastly image for the rest of your life. And only after he was satisfied at the fright in your eyes did he start pulling you by the hair, only to then wrap a tight hand around your neck. You couldn’t breathe. You were choking from his hand, restrained to receive any bit of air down your throat. The strong smell of iron, gun powder, and leather was also beginning to intoxicate you, and you knew you were a minute away from passing out. But Sylus was too enraged to stop, his mind was a toxic fire you couldn’t easily extinguish and the only thing you could do was allow him to take his anger out on you. 
“Hnngh! Sy… Sylus…” you cried, moaning as his hard thrust almost sent you forward to his business partner’s corpse. The pressure on your windpipe was too strong that barely any sound came out of your mouth. “Sylus, I’m all y-yours, my love. Ah—aah! All… yours.” 
He did loosen his grip on your neck, because he had pulled you by the chin to spit into your mouth. A string of saliva connected your tongue to his, your chest undulating in heavy breaths as he began to grope your tits from behind. “Dress like a whore again,” he whispered a warning into your ear, “and I wouldn’t hesitate to treat you like one.” 
Your mind, too numbed by the overstimulation all over your body, couldn’t fully grasp the words he had just spoken. All you knew was that he pressed you further down the carpeted floor, with your ass high up and your body down low. The next thing he did was to spread your butt cheeks apart to gape at the exact hole he was destroying. 
Sore. Too sore. Too numb. Too… Too… “Sylus, I’m g-gonna…” 
“Fuck,” he cussed, accelerating his thrusts at an animalistic speed, his deep breaths turning into a guttural groan as he chased his high. His cum was thick when they landed on your face, and the taste was sweet and salty when he forced the rest of his cum onto the back of your throat. You gagged as he hit your uvula, drool oozing at the corner of your mouth as you choked and yet managed to swallow every drop of his semen. 
Like a good girl, for him. Always. 
You didn’t exactly black out afterward. You were caught in a liminal state, not fully awake but not unconscious either, as you collapsed onto the floor. Sylus discarded you like a toy he’d grown tired of. If you had been more aware, you would have immediately noticed the abrupt shift in his behavior. The sound of his fading footsteps made you realize that the man you loved so obsessively had just left you in that booth, right next to a dead man.
“Y/N?”
“Y/N. Hey, you okay?” 
The coat soon enveloping your body wasn’t Sylus’s; it belonged to one of the twins, and you could feel yourself being carried in his arms. 
“Luke…?” you murmured weakly. 
“No, it’s Kieran,” he clarified, since his older brother was occupied with disposing of Mr. Davis’s body. “I’m taking you home.” 
You clung to his shoulder, your heavy-lidded eyes searching for Sylus’s distinctive white hair. “Wha—? Where’s he? Where is Sy—” 
“Boss already left.” His words felt like a blow. “You know he’s dangerous when he’s angry, so you should just go home for today.” 
You tried to wriggle free from Kieran’s grasp, confused by the sudden turn of events. “But what did I do? Why is he angry with me?” 
“It’s not you, just… complicated,” were the last words you heard before exhaustion overtook you, unaware that you were now outside the nightclub. 
Continuing to squirm from Kieran’s hold, you cried, “What do you mean complicated!”
“Luke and I tried to warn you, Y/N,” he said, grimly, as if he felt bad for you. “You’re not supposed to mess with his emotions. Those feelings are reserved for another.”
~~
The night air in the N109 Zone felt heavy and suffocating. It had been a month since Sylus had abruptly cut off contact with you, leaving you in a state of uncertainty, overthinking, and anger. When he had asked you to take a break from work, you already found his command suspicious, and then the silence that followed was a deafening confirmation of your suspicion. No texts, no calls, and every attempt to visit Onychinus’s base was continuously met with cold dismissal. 
With this, you found yourself at your makeshift gun range, the repetitive bang of the shots echoing in the dimly lit space. The targets were riddled with holes, each bullet a release of your pent-up frustration. Your thoughts were a tempest of spiteful musings: how you should have maxed out his credit card for everything it was worth if you had known he was going to just dump you. The thought of doing so now felt petty, but it also served as a bitter reminder of how easily he had discarded you that night.
But amid your rage, a more serious thought began to surface. Sylus’s avoidance wasn’t merely a cruel game or a sudden whim; it seemed to hint at something deeper, something more troubling. Was there something he wasn’t telling you? Had something happened that he couldn’t or wouldn’t explain?
You should probably confront him, but you needed a sign. Barging into Onychinus’s base without prior notice would be a suicide wish, so you had to have a reason on showing up unannounced. A sign. You desperately needed one, and perhaps the universe was toying with you, but the very sign you were looking for came in the form of a mechanical crow that landed on the lightpost. Its red eyes glowed like lasers through the night, tilting its head as it looked at your way. 
“Caw! Caw!” 
“Mephisto,” you breathed a sigh of relief. Did Sylus send him to watch over you? 
With your confidence growing back, you decided to finally confront the situation head-on. This cold war would bring you nothing but a painful whirl of overthinking. And so, you returned to Onychinus’s base that night, your anger tempered by a new, steely resolve. As usual, the base was as imposing and foreboding as ever, its corridors silent except for the occasional echo of footsteps.
Where is everyone? 
As you neared Sylus’s quarters, your heart pounded with a mix of dread and anticipation. You approached his door, and through the thin walls, you could hear soft, unfamiliar voices. Your breath was caught in your throat as you recognized a woman’s voice, distinct and unfamiliar, but laced with a strange resonance that made your skin crawl.
“From the beginning, you trapped me here, forced me to resonate with you, and even said we’re ‘the same’... One wouldn’t treat a stranger like that, so… don’t tell me you like me. Is this all so you can get my attention?” 
“You’re so gullible, kitten.” 
The twins, who were lounging nearby and keeping an eye on things as usual, saw you by their boss’s door and exchanged knowing glances. Luke, with his usual smirk, leaned in. “Oh, look who decided to show up. You’re just in time.”
Kieran, with a more serious tone, added, “He’s got a guest in there. A hunter from Linkon, with an Aether Core, no less.”
Your heart sank. The mention of an Aether Core was a dagger to your already shattered heart. Sylus’s connection to you had always been complex, but it was a lot different with this other woman he had been keeping an eye on for the longest time. They were marked by their shared Aether Core, which tied them together in ways you could never fully understand. To hear that he had met the girl he had been searching for with the same rare core was like a death knell.
“Since when did Sylus bring her here?” you asked the twins, struggling to keep your emotions in check. This was the real reason Sylus had asked you to take a break—he knew that the presence of this girl would push you to the edge of losing all sense of morality. For the first time in your life, he saw you as a threat. An enemy. 
Luke responded with a shrug. “A couple weeks ago after she leaked her information in The Nest. Boss has been trying to resonate with her, you see. So don’t mind their little bonding moments.” 
Kieran took the initiative to drag his older brother away. “We gotta get going. Don’t cause a scene, Y/N. You won’t like it when our boss is angry.” 
Disregarding the twins’ words, you pressed your hand against the door, the muffled sounds of conversation and the soft rustling of fabric seeping through. The realization of what this meant was crushing. Sylus’s soul was bound to this new woman in ways you could never compete with. And the anguish of this discovery broke you inside. 
Why? Why can’t it be me? 
With trembling hands, you turned the knob and pushed open the door just a crack to peer inside. The sight that met your eyes was enough to confirm your worst fears. Sylus was there, his attention fully on the woman from Linkon that he had pinned down on his bed, a tenderness in his gaze that had never been directed at you. 
Unable to bear the sight any longer, you quietly closed the door and retreated, and Sylus’s head turning in your direction only made you hide even further. You were already taking hurried steps before he could catch up to you. But then again, what kind of idiot would he be to leave that fragile girl alone to run after a woman he didn’t even care about? You were nothing but a placeholder for her, warming her seat temporarily before she finally came into the picture. And now that she was here, you were easily cast aside like worn-out clothing, no longer bearing any purpose for him. 
“…I hate you,” you muttered, the words barely a whisper as they escaped from your trembling lips. Running through the hallways had quickly become exhausting, each step felt like a drag with the weight of your emotions. “I hate you, Sylus.”
Your hands, shaking uncontrollably, grasped the Beryl pendant that hung around your neck. The sharp pain from the necklace’s chain digging into your skin only added to your anguish. And with a frustrated cry, you yanked the pendant off and hurled it down the hallway. The pendant skittered across the polished floor, its once-beautiful gleam now discarded like mere rubbish.
“What did we tell you?” The twins’ imaginary voices were mocking you in your head, their taunts reverberating through your thoughts as you headed out of the base with no footsteps following you behind. It became clear to you that Sylus had chosen to stay with the girl instead of chasing after you. “Just because boss gave you a chance, doesn’t mean he’ll actually date you! You poor thing! You’re just a game he likes to play!” 
“Stop. Stop!” You had to press your hands into your ear, suppressing the torture that your mind was creating.  
You decided to run away. Far, far away from Onychinus’s base. Far away from Sylus’s reach. 
Your footsteps echoed through the deserted streets, your mind still reeling in jealousy from the events you saw earlier. The image of the woman pinned under him, her dark hair and fair skin, had your hands shaking from the anger in your heart. She was as beautiful as he described, as radiant as he’d often whisper about in his dreams. And now that she was within his reach, did you really think he would let her go? 
~~
The night was cold, the air biting at your skin as you walked aimlessly, lost in a whirlwind of emotions and tortuous thoughts. The betrayal, the hurt, the lingering sense of being used—all of it churned within you, making your steps heavy and your heart even heavier.
“I… hate you,” you murmured under your breath. 
As you turned down a dark alley, a sudden prickle of unease crawled up your spine. You quickened your pace, but the sound of a second set of footsteps followed closely behind you. Panic set in as soon as you realized you were being stalked. 
Before you could react, however, a shadowy figure emerged from the darkness, blocking your path. The man’s eyes gleamed with malice, a cruel smile spreading across his face. “You no longer have Sylus to protect you,” he sneered, his voice dripping with menace. It was one of Davis’s men. “You're all alone now, and I'm going to make you pay for the death of our master.”
Fear gripped you like a tightrope, but before the man could take another step, a swirling mist of black-red enveloped him. The pressure of the mist seemed to squeeze his entire body, forcing him to his knees, his screams of terror cut short as if the mist were obeying commands from an unseen master.
You turned around, your heart pounding, to see Sylus standing at the edge of the alley. His domineering eyes bore into yours in a mixture of curiosity and cold calculation. “Should I kill this guy? Yes or no?” His voice was low and raspy. “My decision depends on you, kitten.”
Your gaze hardened after hearing the term of endearment he was now recycling with the hunter girl from Linkon. “I can handle him,” was your cold reply, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you. You drew your gun with a swift motion and fired repeatedly, each shot bouncing in the narrow alley. The man’s body crumpled to the ground, lifeless.
Sylus watched you with an appraising look. “Impressive. Still feisty as ever.”
You then pointed your gun towards him, but keeping a safe enough distance. “Why were you following me?” you demanded, your tone cold as ice.
A chilling laugh echoed through the alleyway. “My own assistant wants to kill her boss? Now, isn’t that a spectacle?”
“Shut up!” you yelled, finger tightening on the trigger. “I don’t care if one bullet won’t kill you. I can shoot you enough times to make sure you’d at least feel some pain.”
Sylus sighed before reaching into his pocket and revealed the necklace, the red beryl pendant glinting in the dim light. “You forgot your gift,” he said, his voice softening ever so slightly.
You stared at the necklace, feeling a sting in your heart that you couldn’t ignore. “I’m not worthy of such a gift,” you replied monotonously, “Give it to her if you want. And also, take this night as my formal resignation as your assistant."
Sylus’s eyes widened, a rare look of surprise crossing his features. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. It seemed as if he was truly, genuinely stunned, caught off guard by your decision.
I can’t back out now. You repeated it like a desperate mantra in your mind as you turned and walked away, leaving Sylus standing alone in the dark alley, the necklace still clutched in his hand. You were done with his games, done with being played. You were determined to leave him behind, until suddenly, he vanished into a puff of black smoke. Dark feathers floated in the spot where he had stood moments ago. To your shock, he reappeared behind you, his hand forcefully grabbing your chin to make you look up at him.
You struggled, trying to wrench his hand away. “Let go—”
But he silenced you with a bruising kiss, locking his lips around yours despite your desperate punches to his chest. He only pulled away when he felt your warm tears streaming down your face, looking at you with a gaze full of unwanted sympathy. Sympathy that cut deeper than any blade.
“Are you happy she’s back in your life?” you choked out, your voice trembling as you stared at him with tear-filled eyes.
Sylus responded with a hesitant hum. “I am.”
You inhaled shakily, his answer shattering your heart. “Then, why are you here?”
“...I don’t know.” His crimson eyes reflected the sorrowful glow of the moon peeking from behind his head.
“Do you intend to keep me as your lover?” you asked, forcing him to confront his true intentions.
Sylus took a long, agonizing moment to respond, as if wrestling with a tumultuous storm of emotions—the pros and cons, the rights and wrongs. Finally, he spoke, and his words were a dagger to your soul.
“No,” he said at last, his hand retreating from your face. He stepped back and turned the distance between you into a chasm of heartbreak. “It’s been nice working with you, Y/N. I’ll send you a year’s worth of salary for your dedication to me. This should be the last time we meet.”
The weight of his words crashed down on you like an earthquake, and the full reality of your situation made it hard for you to breathe. Yes, it was a gut-punch. You were breaking in half, your heart shattering beyond repair because the pain was too much. It was all too much for a person to take, and it twisted something dark inside you.
“If I can’t have you,” you began, your voice shaking with an amalgam of rage and despair, “then no one can.”
Sylus’s eyes narrowed. “Y/N, you won’t dare—”
“I’ll kill her,” you spat, your tone dripping with venom. Your vow was laced with a genuine resolve, as if it were a promise you had embedded in stone. “The next time I see her, I’ll end her in the most brutal way I can. I swear it.”
His eyes flashed with a sinister light, one eye emitting a faint glow like a candlelight in a dark room. “If you try to go near her,” he said, his voice low and menacing, “I’ll kill you first.”
A twisted smile spread across your face, and madness began to gleam in your eyes. Driven to the brink of insanity, you laughed—a wild, almost feral sound that scared even the rats hiding in the darkest places.
“Then, do it,” you challenged, the final thread of your sanity snapping as he raised a finger, and the tendrils of his black-red mist soon swirling around you and crushing your bones with its pressure. “You’ve already taken everything from me, Sylus. Finish what you started.” 
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SECOND PART
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cleolinda · 7 months ago
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I am not the first person to attempt explaining this, but let me tell you about some of the nuances of Bless Your Heart™. It does not solely or even usually translate to “you are a dumbass.” It is more subtle than that:
It is primarily a thing you say to clarify (or falsify) the tone of what you DID say
OR
it is secondarily a thing you say instead of something ELSE to maintain 1) plausible deniability 2) a moral high ground.
“Bless your heart”: You genuinely deserve blessings because you are going through it right now and you need them. Gratitude, sympathy. “I’m going to have surgery next week.” “Bless your heart! Is there anything I can do for you?” (“Oh, bless your heart for asking.”) Original face-value meaning.
“Bless your heart”: You need a blessing because God knows you’re lacking (manners, intelligence, common sense) right now. Synonyms could include “Well, isn’t that precious” or “Well, that’s different.” It often comes in clutch when you don’t want to tell someone to their face that they fucked up. Your nephew has mowed the front yard for you. He has also mowed over all your flower beds. “Well… bless your heart.” If you were going to use it as a stealth insult to someone’s face for a more egregious occasion, it would be this category. It can be a mean girl move (the classic “It’s so brave that you dress like that” vibe), but it’s also a way of saying, “I want you to know that I see what you’re doing and I don’t approve of it, and you fully understand I’m expressing that, but I’m not going to give you the justification to clap back at me because I didn’t SAY that.” Someone wears a fancy white bridal-looking gown to your cousin’s wedding: “Well, bless your heart, that sure is a dress!” (If they understand you: “What’s THAT supposed to mean?” Because they know, but they want to make you SAY it. Combat engaged.)
“Bless their heart”: I am sharing news (gossiping) about someone but I like them and I want you to understand that I do, truly, bless their heart. “It’s been so hard for her after her father passed. Bless her heart, I’m gonna make her that red velvet cake she likes.”
“Bless their heart”: I am shit talking someone and I want to cover my ass, of COURSE I am just concerned for them. “She wore white to her sister’s wedding last week! WHITE! Bless her heart, I guess some people’s children just don’t know better.” (“Well you know they say she was always after the groom—“ “NO! Bless her heart.”)
That last one is the BYH they would need to deploy (but didn’t) in the Make Some Noise clip, but I feel like it honestly wasn’t necessary because the “prayer request” already served as a cover for talking shit. It probably would have come out if they’d been allowed to keep the skit going and they needed plausible deniability for spilling juicier details that maybe Jesus didn’t actually need to hear about. Thank you for coming to my Performing Southernness While Being Neurodivergent talk.
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tokkiwrites · 2 months ago
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Hi happy holidays! Can you please do a Sergei kravinoff smut x innocent female virgin reader “babe in the woods” trope. Sergei is immediately fixated on reader and wants her to be his grude & mother of his children. He immediately marries and later takes her virginity. He hopes to impregnate her from their first time together. Ty!
thank you for this request, anon! and sorry it took so long to post. I've had it written, but it just took a while for me to get the smut part going. i hope you like it!
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Sergei Kravinoff × F!Reader ♰ themes of stalking, obsessive Sergei, kidnapping, Kraven is a weirdo and needs to be locked up, i would say innocent reader but more so an unbothered reader kind of, she is just confused, forced marriage, themes of Stockholm syndrome, loss of virginity, fingering (reader receiving), afab reader, unprotected p in v, Sergei wants to get the reader pregnant.
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The woods were quiet, save for the whisper of wind threading through the branches above. You loved this time of day when the sun filtered gold and green through the canopy, casting dappled patterns on the earth. It was your sanctuary, far from the clamor of town and the heavy, watchful eyes of others. Here, no one could accuse you of being strange, or sheltered, or too naive. You simply were.
The faint crack of a branch made you stop mid-step, your basket of wildflowers swinging lightly at your hip. “Hello?” You called, voice soft, hesitant. The forest had always been safe— or so it felt. until now, you had never had the need to question it.
He emerged from the shadows, and your breath caught. The man was massive. A towering figure, his broad shoulders draped in animal pelts and his chest bare save for the crisscrossing scars that marked him as something primal, dangerous. His face was angular, carved from stone, with piercing eyes that pinned you where you stood.
Sergei Kravinoff. The name would mean nothing to you, but to others, it struck fear—a hunter of men and beasts, a predator who bent the wilderness to his will. He did not speak at first. He only looked at you, as if you were some rare, delicate creature he had stumbled upon. The longer his eyes lingered, the hotter your cheeks burned.
“Who are you?” you asked, clutching the basket to your chest. His lips curved into a smile, though there was nothing warm in it. “I am Sergei,” he said, his voice low, thick with an accent you couldn’t place. “And you" he paused for a bit. " Should not wander alone in places like this. The world is not kind to lambs.” You blinked at him, confused. “Lambs?”
“You,” he clarified, taking a step closer. His sheer presence seemed to draw the air from your lungs. “Soft. Untouched. So trusting.” You took an instinctive step back, and his smile widened, as if he enjoyed your unease. “I—I’ve never seen you here before. Are you lost?”
“No,” he said simply, his eyes roaming over you with an intensity that made your skin prickle. “But perhaps I have found something worth staying for.”
It reeked of dangerㅡ death. yet you still came back.
Over the next week, you saw him again and again. Always in the woods, always watching. At first, you told yourself it was a coincidence. this strange man simply shared your love for the forest. But his presence became impossible to ignore. He never tried to speak much, yet his eyes seemed to devour you every time, as though he were committing every detail of your face to memory. You should have been afraid. You should have stopped going to the woods entirely. But something about him fascinated you. He was so unlike the boys in town, who stammered and avoided your gaze, intimidated by your quietness. Sergei was bold, unflinching. He seemed to look right through you, to the parts of yourself you didn’t even understand.
you little lamb.
“Why do you keep following me?” He tilted his head, his gaze softening though not entirely. “Because you are mine.” The bluntness of his words made your breath hitch. “I don’t even know you.”
“You will,” he said, stepping closer. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face, and though you should have flinched away, you didn’t. His touch was surprisingly gentle, reverent even, even if his rough fingers scratched your skin. “I have decided. You will be my bride.”
“Bride?” You echoed the word foreign and strange on your tongue. “But we’ve only just—” you laughed. surely it must be a joke. “You are meant for me, little lamb” he interrupted, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument. “I have hunted all my life, little one. I know when I have found my prize.” Suddenly, the world went dark.
maybe it was all just a bad and confusing dream. though his touch still lingered.
You woke in the morning to find yourself not in your small, familiar room. outside the window that overlooked the bed you were in, the forest. The air smelled of pine and smoke, and outside, the trees loomed tall and unyielding. Panic gripped you as you sat up, heart racing. “Where—” The door creaked open, and there he was, filling the frame with his imposing presence. “You are awake,” Sergei said, his tone calm, almost pleasedㅡ excited. He carried a tray with food: fresh berries, bread, and cheese. “Eat. Now."
“Where am I?” you demanded, your voice trembling. “Why did you—” He set the tray down, cutting you off with a look. “You are safe. That is all you need to know.”
“I am not! This isn’t right,” you said, tears pricking at your eyes. “You can’t just—”
“I can,” he said sharply, though his expression softened as he stepped closer. “I have waited long enough. You do not understand, but you will. I will take care of you. Protect you. You will want for nothing, my little one.”
You shook your head, backing away from him, but he caught your wrist with startling ease. His touch was firm, yet not cruel. “Do not fear me,” he murmured, his voice dropping to something almost tender. “I would never hurt you. You are too precious.”
Sergei did not wait long to make you his.
The days in the cabin blurred together, each one steeped in an odd rhythm. Sergei’s presence was constant, protective, and overwhelming. He would watch you eat, his sharp eyes softening whenever you complied. He brought you small gifts: wildflowers, trinkets carved from wood, pelts to keep you warm. He never let you wander far, always ensuring you were within sight. And though he never forced his touch upon you, you could feel the tension thrumming beneath the surface, like a predator waiting for the right moment to pounce.
In the evening, as the fire crackled and cast flickering shadows on the walls, Sergei sat across from you. He leaned forward, large hands resting on his knees. “It is time,” he said, his voice calm but unyielding. “Time?” you echoed, your throat dry. “For us to marry.” You stared at him, heart pounding. “I… I can’t. I don’t even know what you want from me. I—I never— You kidnapped me!”
“You were made for this,” he said, cutting you off. his eyes were setting you a-light, it made your skin prickle. “You think I do not see it? Your purity. Your innocence. You were meant to be a wife. My wife.” Tears burned in your eyes, but you blinked them away. “But I’m not— I need to marry someone I love!"
“You are ready,” he insisted, his tone softening only slightly. “I have waited long enough. It will be done."
And it was.
The ceremony was simple, ritualistic. Sergei had prepared everything. rings made from woven silver, a bearskin cloak to drape over your shoulders as a symbol of protection. There was no priest, no people, only the two of you and the forest as your witness. He spoke vows in a language you did not understand, his voice deep and reverent, as though he were offering you up to some ancient force. When it was your turn, your voice faltered, but under his watchful gaze, you repeated the words he taught you.
“You are mine,” he said at the end, taking your face in his hands. His eyes burned with possessive fire. “And I am yours.”
but every wolf gets hungry eventually.
When night fell, you found yourself sitting on the edge of the bed, your hands clutching the thick wool blanket. Sergei entered the room, his movements slow and deliberate. He had shed his usual pelts, his bare chest glowing in the firelight.
“You are trembling,” he said, his voice softer than you had ever heard it. He knelt in front of you, his massive frame now not so intimidating. “Are you afraid of me?” You couldn’t meet his eyes. "I don’t know... what you expect from me? What you w-want...”
“I expect you to trust me,” he said simply, his hand brushing against your cheek. “You are my wife now. It is my duty to show you what that means.” Your breath stopped as he leaned closer, his lips ghosting over your forehead. “I will not hurt you,” he murmured, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. “But you are mine, little lamb. Every part of you.”
His lips met yours— soft at first, testing, as though he feared you might shatter like porcelain. But when you didn’t pull away, his kiss deepened, a low growl rumbling in his chest. His hands cradled your face, his touch reverent, almost worshipful.
“I have waited for this,” he said against your lips, his voice thick with desire. “Waited to claim what is mine.” You didn’t resist as he laid you down, his hands tracing over your trembling form. He was patient, guiding you gently, his touch surprisingly tender for someone so fierce. But his intent was clear.
oh, little lamb.
rugged hands make their way up and around your hips as his bearded face stays flush against your tender neck. he was ready to devour you. Sergei looked up into your eyes and for the first time you've seen him smile. and as if all of the things you felt caused you fears melted away, so did you into his embrace.
his lips meet yours, and it all finally made sense. you could feel the hunger, the will in him to give his all right here, right now. you wrapped around him like vines on a tree, his low growl of approval making you clench around nothing. it all felt so new, yet familiar, as if somehow, this wasn't the first time. the forest outside sung as your quiet moans filled the cabin. Sergei discards all of your clothes with ease, leaving you in nothing as you stayed splayed on the bed. the fur coverings under, pooled around your body, the moonlight dripped on you like dew in spring and you looked like a precious painting.
with no time to wait, sergei quickly gets naked. it wasn't the first time you saw him like this, but it was the first time you saw it. to say all that fear bubbled up into your stomach was an understatement. you gulped down as your glossy eyes looked at him up and down. "Spread your legs for me." it wasn’t a request, it was an order. and you obey. spreading your legs you give him a full view of you dripping cunt, and sergei throws his head back with a low groan. you finally speak up. "IㅡI am a...a virgin." it all seemed so silly to say now. "I know." he smiles in the corner of his mouth. "Smelled it on you the first time we met." and you whimper. "I will get you ready now." somehow, you knew what it meant. He kneels in front of you on the bed, pulling you so that you thighs are right over his, your puffy lips on full display. two of his digits make their way up to your mouth. "Suck." you comply.
after that was done, his calloused fingers make their way between your folds, gathering up the juices you've been dripping. You whimpered softly and Sergei shushed you, rubbing small circles on your plushy thigh with his other hand. He pushes one of his fingers inside, and you can feel it. It didn’t hurt, not yet, it was just strange and new. the second finger comes quick after and he starts pumping them, swirling them around as his lips made contact with your swollen bud. Your eyes jot open as this feeling washes over you, and you can't help but let your legs shake uncontrollably. The fire wave envelopes you whole before it comes to an agonizing stop. You open your eyes again and above you is Sergei, his shaft in his hand as he aligns it with your asking entrance. "If it hurts...yell. Scream as much as you want. Hurt me back. I am here to teach you."
and teach you he does. he pushes in slowly and the stretch is agonizing, the pain making all of your muscles tense. "It's alright, I'm here, little girl." you let out a sigh, the tears slipping past your lids when you open your eyes. the moon engulfed Sergei in It's beautiful light, his silhouette looking as if it was carved out perfectly. a couple of inches, then some more, and some moreㅡ until he is fully inside. you bite down on your tongue, but Sergei preps soft kisses along your jaw and you seem to forget about the pain. "You're doing so, so good. So good for me." he hums, taking in a big breath of your smell before he snaps his hips slowly. In a few seconds, the burn turned into a delicious feeling you couldn’t quite describe. And though it felt so new, your body fell in place right into Sergei’s touch, as if it were meant to be.
When he finally started to move faster, his groan was one of triumph, a sound that you know will echo in your ears long after. “You will give me childrenㅡ" he said, voice low and ragged as he moved inside of you. “Strong sons and daughters. Our legacy will begin tonight.”
your legs quiver around him, but he leaves no room for mercy. Above you, he looked just as a predator ready to swallow his pray whole. you weren't one to fight back, and you really didn't want to. you back stayed arched against the coverings of the bed, fingers clawing at his broad shoulders as he pumped into you. your tummy was churning, and your head was dizzyㅡ you were far gone, too drunk on the way he perfectly hit that spot with each thrust. "You were made for me, made to take meㅡ fuck, you are so beautiful." you whimper, feeling that fire wave starting to take over again. your velvet walls squeeze around him, causing him to growl. Sergei leans forward, propping one of your legs above his shoulder, the angle making you gasp for air. you look up at him, eyes glossy with tears. An animal. His eyes grew darker, lips crooked in a smile before he delivered his final blow.
you come undone right under his fingertips, writhing and shaking as small pleads fall from your lips. You can feel his seed deep within you, threatening to slip out around his cock that was still inside of you, pulsing. "Good girl."
he prays it sticks.
Sergei’s obsession with you only deepened—he barely let you out of his sight, his touch lingering whenever he could. Yet there was a softness in him, a desire to make you happy, even as he bent you to his will.
He began teaching you small things. how to tend the fire, how to skin an animal, how to defend yourself should a predator come. But you were never allowed to go far. “Why can’t I leave?” you asked one afternoon, your frustration bubbling over. Sergei turned to you, his eyes darkening. “Because the world is cruel, little one. It will devour you. You are too soft, too trusting. Here, you are safe.”
“Safe,” you repeated bitterly. His jaw clenched, and for a moment, you thought he might lash out. But instead, he cupped your face in his hands, his gaze softening. “I would rather you hate me than lose you.” you were beginning to see the truth of it. his love for you was consumin and obsessive, but it was real. He worshipped you, protected you, but at the cost of your freedom. And yet, part of you began to adapt. To find comfort in his arms, in the way he looked at you as though you were the only thing that mattered.
Perhaps you were.
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melminli · 1 month ago
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Ddakji Man
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summery - you were always struggling to make ends meet, despite having three separate jobs and you doubted that that would ever change. it felt like you were working out of your own casket and it would probably be more sustainable to invest in one at this point.
pairing: (gong yoo/ji-cheol) the salesman x fem. reader
word count: 1.5k
contains: slight arguing, cursing but nothing too graphic tbh
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"Are you sure that you don't want to come?" One of your friends asked you a little sadly since you were about to leave the group. They rarely got to see you anyway, did you have to leave so early? "You never come with us when we go out for a drink, we miss you there, you know?"
You smiled a little tiredly as you strolled casually through the streets. "I'm sorry guys, I just have to work tonight." you tried to explain. Besides, I'm fucking tired and just want to get some sleep before then. I miss my bed.
Your best friend pouted as she hugged you from the side and you welcomed it, even if it made walking a little more difficult. "It's always work this work that. Live a little for once, all this stress is not good for you. You need a break." she spoke up before a thought came into her mind that made her a little furious. "Don't tell me that you're using work as an excuse to cancel on us. We can do something else if you want to. I'll even invite you, come on!"
You took a tired breath. I don't have any energy for this. "Trust me, I'd love nothing more than to get drunk with you and I'm not being sarcastic or anything." you clarified. Besides, I wouldn't work this much if I didn't have to.
"All right." she gave in unhappy. "We'll catch you one of these days, I can feel it..."
You laughed softly. "Please do," you replied and stopped in front of the stairs that led to the subway. This was the place where you had to part ways with the others and you did with a few more hugs. You enjoyed spending time with them and loved your friends with all your heart, but you were still happy to be a bit on your own now.
So you plugged in your cable headphones and played your current favorite song at the loudest volume before checking when the next train was going to arrive. Another twenty minutes? The last one must have just left. You decided to just sit down on a bench and wait while staring blankly around and quietly mumbling the lyrics to yourself.
A few minutes later, a person sat down next to you and you could see out of the corner of your eye that it was probably some kind of businessman or something. You didn't look closely out of politeness and turned your gaze somewhere else after checking the time on your phone.
"Excuse me." the unknown man tried to get your attention, but as expected, you could barely hear him over the booming music. He placed his briefcase in the space between you before leaning closer to your figure and looking towards you with a smile and finally, you seemed to notice his stare and turned in his direction. You took out one of your earbuds as you met his gaze. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"
The man leaned back again. "I haven't said anything yet. I wanted to ask if I could talk to you, do you have a moment?"
You looked around a little uncomfortably as he maintained uninterrupted eye contact with you. "Ehm, well..." you stumbled slightly over your words. "I'm not religious or anything, sorry," you replied, having no patience for another discourse about Jesus and the church. This is the fourth time this week, lucky me. You thought to yourself as you were about to put your earplug back in.
The salesman held a hand in the air to stop you from doing that to keep your attention. You just looked at him uninterestedly and waited, it was going to be a while before your train arrived anyway. A smile graced his face after you were willing to listen to him again. "That's not what I wanted to talk about, I just want to offer you a chance."
Your face tightened a little in disgust and you were quite irritated by now. He seemed to be waiting for some kind of answer and didn't say anything else, so you had no choice but to interpret his words. He doesn't look like that kind of guy, but I guess it's always the ones who look the most decent. "Listen to me asshole," you said openly this time, all politeness gone as you pointed at his chest with your index finger. "I don't know you, maybe you're one of those men who try to talk in riddles to seem mysterious or something, but right now it just sounds like you're looking for someone cheap to fuck." you replied as you tapped his tie with each syllable and leaned a little closer to him as you whispered. "And I'm not cheap, so you might want to look elsewhere."
This time it was you who grinned as he looked at you in surprise and he let out a small grunt after you finished your sentence. The salesman straightened his tie while watching your figure before reaching for his briefcase and revealing its contents, "That's too bad, but also not what I was talking about," he replied as you looked at the money and colored paper in confusion. "Have you ever played Ddakji?" He asked you as he took out the red and blue paper. You just shook your head. "That's no problem at all, we can still play it if you're up for it." 
Your gaze alternated from his hand to his face. Oh, so he's crazy. You finally concluded. I guess he is too handsome to be just a normal guy, huh. You turned your head away from him, something about the whole thing just seemed perverse to you. "No thanks, I'll pass."
"You sure?" He asked again, knowing he'd convinced you as soon as he brought the money into it. These people are all the same, she'll snatch the paper right out of my hands after I start talking a language she understands. "Every time you win, you get 100,000 won from me." He began, watching the look on your face. "But if I win, you owe me 100,000 won and -"
You sighed and interrupted him. "Yes, I'm sure. I still don't want to play with you, okay?"
This time the man looked at you with a cold, icy stare. A few minutes passed like this and you just tried to ignore his gaze, but then he started talking again. "All right. 200,000 won." he finally said, but couldn't seem to get your attention back. He tried again. "Is it because you've never played the game before? We can have a practice round if that would make you feel more comfortable." he tried again and got irritated when you continued to ignore him. He looked around the area as he considered his next move. Is she waiting for me to increase the prize money further? These people usually jump up happily at the first amount since they're so desperate. He tried to collect himself again. "500,000 won." he finally said. "I've got the money right here, you just have to go for it."
When is this stupid train coming. "Look, I don't want your fucking money, understand? I'm not a gambling addict or -"
"You may not want it, but you need it," he said, annoyed. This has never happened before, is she stupid? He then spoke out your name and described your miserable living situation as if you didn't already know about it yourself. "You also have quite a lot of debt for someone who is still relatively young, are you seriously going to turn down the money I'm offering you? For what, to prove a point or something?"
You didn't know what this man's fucking problem was, he should be glad that you didn't want to take his money, and how did he even know all this? You got up from your seat next to him when the train finally arrived and turned to face him one last time. "Fuck you," you told him and then went to the doors. You even looked out of the window at him as soon as they closed before you, to show him your the middle finger.
The man in the suit watched your figure irritated until it was gone and then, took the little card out of the inside pocket of his suit, that was meant for you. He turned it over a few times in his hand before closing the open briefcase with his other one. He had already played and lost a few Ddakji games in his life, which was the point of the whole thing - to recruit players for the actual game. However, the thought of what awaited them there meant that he was still in control of the situation. He was always in control of the situation. "I didn't loose, we haven't even played." he tried to reassure himself.
And yet the whole conversation with you left him feeling like he was utterly defeated.
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jinniejjam · 2 months ago
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Breaking Down Walls
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✎ CollegeBand!Bang Chan x nerdyAfab!Reader
✎ Nerdy College AU, Emotional, strangers to Lovers, 18+ MDNI! NSFW, Slight breeding Kink and bulge kink, creampie, cunilingus.
✎ 5,9k
✎ Synopsis: Bang Chan, the campus heartthrob, reluctantly seeks help from Y/N, a no-nonsense tutor who doesn’t trust boys like him. As late-night study sessions turn into something more, their differences blur, and unexpected feelings emerge, challenging both their walls.
A/n : hii guyss, another Chan X Nerdy again loll, i just love this trope so muchh! Enjoyy and please don't mind the typo or the grammatical error^^
— Bae
You stared at the email on your laptop screen, a sinking feeling pooling in your stomach.
Dear Y/n,
Professor Lee has recommended you for a special tutoring assignment. The student, Christopher Bang, has been struggling with his coursework and could use your expertise. We believe you are the right person for this. Thank you for your cooperation.
Best,
Academic Support Team
You groaned audibly and smacked your forehead against your desk. Christopher Bang. Everyone on campus called him “Bang Chan,” the lead singer of a campus-famous band. He was the kind of guy who was perpetually surrounded by a sea of admirers, always with an easy grin and a cocky confidence that screamed trouble.
You didn’t have time for trouble.
When Professor Lee mentioned this tutoring opportunity during class, you thought it’d be for someone serious. Someone who genuinely wanted help—not a guy who probably spent more time flirting than studying.
Still, you couldn’t exactly back out now. The professor had personally vouched for you. Besides, you needed the extra credit this gig offered. So, with a deep sigh and a firm resolution to keep things strictly professional, you emailed Chan back to arrange your first meeting.
"Tuesday, 4 PM. Library. Be on time."
It was Tuesday at 4:17 PM, and you were tapping your pen against the library table, glaring at the clock.
Of course, he’s late.
You had your laptop open, notes prepared, and a coffee you’d already drained. The quiet hum of the library did nothing to calm your irritation.
Just as you were about to send him a passive-aggressive follow-up email, you heard footsteps approaching.
“Hey! Sorry, sorry—I got caught up!”
You looked up to see him. Bang Chan, in the flesh. His dark hair was slightly messy, as if he’d just rolled out of bed, and his leather jacket was slung carelessly over his shoulder. He looked every bit the campus heartthrob you’d expected, complete with that infuriatingly charming smile.
“You’re late,” you said flatly, refusing to return his smile.
He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Guilty as charged. Traffic on the way here was brutal.”
“This is a walking campus,” you shot back, raising an eyebrow.
He grinned, unbothered by your sarcasm. “Touché.”
You sighed and motioned for him to sit down. “Let’s get started. I assume you know why you’re here.”
“Enlighten me.” He plopped down across from you, leaning back in the chair with an air of relaxed confidence.
You slid a piece of paper across the table. “Your midterm grades. Let’s just say they’re not exactly... stellar.”
Chan winced as he glanced at the sheet. “Yikes.”
“Yikes indeed,” you said dryly. “If you want to pass this course, you need to take this seriously. No distractions, no excuses.”
“Got it. Serious. No distractions.” He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand as he looked at you with those annoyingly pretty eyes. “But just to clarify—you’re not a distraction, right?”
Your jaw tightened, and you rolled your eyes. “We’re not here to play games, Bang.”
“Call me Chan,” he said with a wink.
You ignored him and opened your laptop. “Let’s start with last week’s lecture material.”
Despite your initial assumptions, Chan actually seemed... attentive. He took notes, asked questions, and even admitted when he didn’t understand something.
“Wait, so this formula—does it only work for linear functions, or can it apply to quadratic ones too?” he asked, frowning at his notebook.
You blinked. That was actually a decent question. “It’s primarily for linear functions, but there are variations you can use for quadratic ones. Want me to show you?”
“Please.”
As you explained, you couldn’t help but notice how focused he was. His pen tapped lightly against the notebook, and his brow furrowed in concentration. He even nodded along occasionally, muttering things like, “Okay, that makes sense now.”
It was... unexpected.
“So, do you actually want to pass this course, or are you just here because your professor made you?” you asked after a while, unable to hide your curiosity.
Chan looked up, surprised by the question. Then he smiled—this time, it wasn’t the cocky grin you’d seen earlier. It was softer, almost sheepish.
“I mean, yeah. I’ve got a lot on my plate, but I don’t want to fail. Music’s my thing, sure, but I don’t want to let my grades tank either.”
Something about his honesty caught you off guard. Maybe he wasn’t as shallow as you’d assumed.
“Well,” you said, clearing your throat, “if you keep this up, you might actually pass.”
He smirked, the cockiness returning. “Is that a compliment, tutor?”
“Don’t get used to it,” you muttered, trying—and failing—not to smile.
--
The next few sessions followed a similar pattern. You’d meet in the library, Chan would inevitably charm his way through your carefully constructed defenses, and you’d catch yourself noticing more than his academic progress.
It was frustrating.
“Okay, I think I’ve got this,” Chan said one evening, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied grin. “All thanks to my amazing tutor.”
You rolled your eyes, fighting the warmth rising to your cheeks. “Flattery doesn’t get you bonus points.”
“Good thing I’m not doing it for points.”
Your pen paused mid-sentence. His voice had dipped slightly, teasing, but there was something about the way he said it—soft and genuine—that made your chest tighten.
“Focus, Chan,” you muttered, flipping to the next page of notes.
“Right. Focus,” he echoed, but you caught the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
---
The tension reached a boiling point during one particularly late session. The library was practically deserted, save for the two of you tucked away in a quiet corner.
“Okay, last problem,” you said, sliding your notebook toward him. “Solve this, and we’re done for tonight.”
Chan groaned but picked up his pen. You leaned back, watching as his brows furrowed in concentration. He tapped the pen against his lips—a habit you’d noticed—and you quickly averted your gaze, pretending to check your phone.
“How’d I do?” he asked, sliding the notebook back to you.
You scanned his work, nodding slowly. “Not bad. You’re actually starting to get the hang of this.”
“Wow. Another compliment?” he teased, leaning closer. “You’re spoiling me, tutor.”
You snorted, shaking your head. “Don’t get used to it.”
But then, as you reached for your notebook, your fingers brushed against his. It was a brief, almost insignificant touch, but it sent a jolt through you.
You glanced up, and Chan was already looking at you, his eyes searching yours.
The air shifted.
For a moment, it felt like the rest of the world had fallen away, leaving just the two of you in that small, quiet corner of the library.
“You know,” he began softly, his voice barely above a whisper, “you’re a lot more fun to be around than you let on.”
Your heart thudded in your chest. “Chan—”
“Relax,” he said, leaning back with a playful grin. “I’m just messing with you. Unless... you don’t want me to stop.”
You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks betrayed you, burning with heat. “Goodnight, Chan.”
As you packed up your things and left, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something between you had shifted—something you weren’t quite ready to face yet.
---
The shift came unexpectedly a week later, during a particularly bad storm. You’d just finished your last class of the day when your phone buzzed.
Chan: “Library’s closed. Raincheck?”
You sighed, staring out the window at the torrential downpour. Normally, you’d jump at the chance to stay in, but something about the thought of Chan struggling with the material alone bothered you. Before you could overthink it, you replied:
You: “Come to my dorm. Bring your notes.”
Twenty minutes later, there was a knock at your door.
“Hey,” Chan said, slightly breathless. His hair was damp from the rain, droplets clinging to his leather jacket.
“You look like a wet puppy,” you teased, stepping aside to let him in.
“And you’re as welcoming as ever,” he shot back, but there was no malice in his tone—just the easy, teasing warmth you’d come to associate with him.
As the session went on, you noticed Chan seemed... off. He was quieter than usual, his usual playful demeanor replaced by something more subdued.
“You okay?” you asked finally, setting your notebook aside.
He hesitated, then sighed, running a hand through his damp hair. “It’s just... a lot. The band, school, everything. Sometimes it feels like no matter how hard I try, it’s never enough.”
Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice. For all his confidence, it was moments like these that reminded you he wasn’t as invincible as he seemed.
“You’re doing fine,” you said softly, surprising yourself with the sincerity in your tone. “You just need to give yourself some credit.”
Chan looked up, his eyes meeting yours. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the unspoken tension between you thickening.
“Thanks,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.
“You don’t have to thank me,” you said, your voice softer than you intended. “You’re doing the work. I’m just here to guide you.”
Chan gave you a small smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Still... It’s nice to hear. Sometimes, it feels like everyone only sees what they want to see, you know?”
You nodded, understanding more than you cared to admit. “Yeah. People look at me and think, ‘nerdy girl who has her life together.’ But they don’t see the rest—the doubts, the late nights wondering if I’m good enough, or if I’ll ever be more than just... this.”
Chan tilted his head, his eyes scanning your face. “Why would you think that? You’re... incredible. Smart, focused, driven—”
“Boring,” you interrupted with a bitter laugh.
“No.” His tone was firm, and the intensity in his gaze made your breath catch. “You’re anything but boring.”
The weight of his words hung in the air, pressing against your chest.
You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Instead, you looked away, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of your notebook. “You don’t mean that. You’re just saying it because... well, that’s what guys like you do.”
“Guys like me?” Chan repeated, his voice laced with curiosity.
“You know.” You waved a hand vaguely. “The popular, charismatic type. Always knowing exactly what to say to get what you want.”
His expression softened, and he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “You’ve got me all wrong.”
You glanced at him, skepticism evident in your eyes. “Do I?”
“Yeah,” he said simply. “You think I have it all figured out, but most days, I’m just trying to keep my head above water. And if I seem like I know what to say, it’s only because I’ve spent my whole life trying to make people happy. It’s exhausting.”
His honesty caught you off guard, and for the first time, you saw him—really saw him—as more than just the confident, untouchable guy everyone adored.
“I didn’t know you felt that way,” you admitted quietly.
“Not many people do.” He smiled faintly. “But I feel like... I can be real with you. Like I don’t have to put on a show.”
Something shifted in your chest, a warmth spreading through you that you hadn’t expected.
“Same,” you murmured. “I don’t know why, but... you make me feel like I can let my guard down, too. It’s scary.”
“Why?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Because... I’ve spent so long convincing myself that people like you and me don’t mix.”
Chan reached out then, his hand covering yours. The gesture was gentle, tentative, as if he was giving you the chance to pull away. But you didn’t.
“Maybe we’re not so different,” he said softly. “And maybe that’s not such a bad thing.”
You looked at him, your breath hitching as his thumb brushed against the back of your hand.
“Chan—”
Before you could finish, he leaned in, his face inches from yours. His eyes searched yours, asking a silent question.
When you didn’t pull away, he closed the distance, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was hesitant at first—testing the waters—but quickly deepened as you responded.
Your hands moved almost instinctively, one tangling in his damp hair while the other rested against his chest. His heart was racing, beating in time with yours as the kiss grew hungrier.
Chan pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours. “Is this okay?” he whispered, his breath warm against your lips.
“Yes,” you murmured, your voice trembling with the intensity of the moment.
That was all the encouragement he needed. His lips found yours again, more urgent this time, and you felt yourself melting into him.
The books and papers scattered across the table were long forgotten as he pulled you closer, his hands resting on your waist, anchoring you to him.
The storm outside raged on, but inside, everything felt still—like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you.
“You’re incredible,” he murmured against your lips, his voice raw with emotion.
Your heart swelled at his words, and you found yourself smiling despite the heat of the moment. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
Chan chuckled, the sound vibrating against your skin as he pressed kisses along your jawline, trailing down to the sensitive spot just below your ear, a shiver ran through you, and you tightened your grip on him, pulling him impossibly closer, for the first time, you let yourself stop overthinking. You stopped doubting his intentions, stopped worrying about what this meant. In that moment, it was just you and him, tangled together in a whirlwind of affection and desire, and it felt... right.
The intensity between you grew, as the room seemed to shrink, leaving just the two of you in your shared bubble. Chan's hands trailed gently along your waist, his touch firm but careful, like he was afraid you might dissapear if he pressed too hard.
"Wait," you murmured suddenly, pulling back slightly.
Chan froze immediately, his hands dropping to his sides, his breathing was ragged, his lips slightly swollen from the kiss. "What's wrong?" He asked softly, concern flickering in his eyes.
You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. "I just... i need to know this isn't just a game for you."
He blinked, clearly caught off guard by your question. "What? No. It's not a game. Why would you think that?"
You shrugged, avoiding his gaze. "Because guys like you—"
"Stop saying that," he interupted, his tone gentle but firm, he gently cupping your cheek, his thumb brushed lightly in your cheek "I'm not some stereotype, neither are you. I know i've got reputation but that's not who i am—not when im with you."
His words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity. Slowly, you looked up, meeting his gaze. There was no hint of the cocky playfulness that he usually do. Instead, his eyes were full of something deeper, Something real.
"I like you," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Not just for this. For everything. The way you so passionate about what you do, the way you don't take anyone's crap, the way you challenge me to better."
Your chest tightened at his confession, a warmth spreading through you that felt both terrifying and exhilarating.
"I like you, too," you admitted, the words tumbling out before you could stop them, seeing him in that vulnerable state make your heart weak.
Chan's lips curved into a soft smile. "Good. Then let me prove it to you."
Before you could even respond, he kissed you again—this time slower, more deliberate. It wasn't just about the heat or the tension, it was about connection, it was about trust.
As the kiss deepened, you found yourself letting go of every lingering doubt. Your hands moved to his shoulders, pulling him closer, and he responded by wraping his arms securely around your waist.
The storm outside seemed to mirror the intensity between you, thunder rumbling in the distance as the rain pounded against the window.
Chan's hands slip up your sides, his touch leaving a trail of heat in it's wake. His lips moved from yours to your neck, pressing soft, open mouthed kisses along your skin, sucking the skin under your colarbone untill it turn purple, marking you as his.
"Chan," you breathed, your voice barely audible above the sound of your own heartbeat. he reached for the hem of your sweater, his hands firm as he yanked it off with sudden force, sending it flying across the room. The fabric brushed your skin before it landed, discarded in the corner.
He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark with desire but still full of that same tenderness "Tell me if it's too much," he said, his voice husky but laced with care.
"It's not," you assured him, your fingers tangling in his hair. "Its perfect."
The words seems to spur him on, and he captured your lips again, his kisses grow hungry.
Before you knew it, you were pressed against the edge of the desk, the paper and books scattered around the desk now laying on the floor. He trail kisses from your neck down to your clothed breasts, his fingers brushing against the plush skin, squeezing your tits with his big hands.
Your breath hitched at the contact, and he paused, his gaze meeting yours. "Is this okay?" He asked again, his voice steady despite the beat between you.
"Yes," you whispered, your cheek flushing.
He continue to assault your tits, yanking the bra off to suck on your right nipple, making you let out a loud moan from the feeling of his warm tongue swirling around your perked nipple, he let go of your right nipple to lick and play with your other nipple, giving it the same service, making you squeze his shoulder from the sensation.
His hand trail your curve and gripping your waist, he let go of your nipple with a pop, he smilled—a soft, almost shy smile that made your heart flutter— he leaned in to kiss you again.
His hands were still on your waist, his grip firm as he guided you to stand, before you could react, he was lifting you effortlesly, the next thing you knew, you were perched on the edge of the desk the cool surface hitting the back of your thigh sending a shiver down your spine.
He stepped closer, his breath hot against your ear as his hands brushed the side of your body, pulling you in with a controlled intensity. His fingers traced the curve of your hips, lips still attached to yours— his tongue slipped in to your mouth—guiding you closer until you were flush against him, the proximity sending a wave of heat through you.
He pulled back slightly from the kiss, "Look at me," he murmured, his voice low and commanding but tinged with something softer, something you couldn't quite place. You met his gaze, your breath hitching as he leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. "Spread your leg for me baby."
Chan’s eyes flickered with something dark and unreadable as he waited, giving you a moment to decide. The tension in the air was almost unbearable, and the quiet hum of the room felt louder than anything.
You could feel the heat between you two growing, the closeness undeniable as his fingers lightly traced the inside of your thighs, his touch a contrast to the urgency in his eyes. Slowly, you shifted, obeying the unspoken command, spreading your legs just enough for him to move closer.
He leaned in, his breath fanning over your lips, but he didn’t kiss you right away. Instead, his hand found its way to your jaw, tilting your face up to meet his, searching your eyes for something—permission, reassurance, understanding. His thumb brushed over your lower lip, his gaze softening for a brief moment.
“You’re sure?” His voice was barely a whisper, the weight of his question settling between you, the intensity in his eyes matching the tension in your body. His hand was still on your thigh, but there was something so much deeper in his touch, as if he was waiting for you to guide him, to tell him you were ready.
You nodded, your voice caught in your throat. You didn’t need words anymore. The pull between you two was magnetic, and you knew that despite the hesitation in your chest, there was no turning back.
He smiled softly, his lips brushing against yours for a brief moment, the kiss slow, tender, before his lips parted from yours, trailing down to your neck. His breath was warm against your skin, sending shivers through you. As his hands slid further up your body, his movements were deliberate, almost teasing, drawing out the anticipation.
He move his hand to cupped your aching core, "So wet already, hm? So eager aren't we?" Your heart pounded louder now, the room seeming to close in around you. Every touch, every breath felt amplified as you finally let yourself sink into the moment, unable to resist the pull of everything that had been building between you.
He paused again, his gaze meeting yours, that soft, unspoken understanding passing between you two. And then, as if to confirm the depth of what was happening, he murmured, “I’ve wanted this... wanted you... for so long, you have no idea what you've done to me" he said with a hoarsh groan falling from his lips, while his hand still drawing small sircle around your bundle of nerve making you squirm and moaning mess for him.
"Mmh chan, please." You were not even sure what you were begging for, but you just need him to ruin you into a complete mess with his touch.
He chuckled, low and deep, a sound that sent shivers down your spine making the wet spot on your panties even more visible.
Chan didn't stop swirling your clit watching you squirming under his touch, chasing your pleasure like a cat in a heat.
"Sshh sshh, patient kitten, patient." He said, stopping his finger movement on you, leaving you whining in the lost of contact. But not too long after, Chan lowered his height, pushing your knees to spread your leg even wider for him, displaying your damp panties.
You moan to the sight, him kneeling between your leg, spreading you open like that was never on your bingo card. Chan look up to you, drawing a small sircle on your inner thigh, asking for your consent once again, you nodded eagerly, you already so wet it literally drenched. "Please, Chan" you whine, feeling so desperate for his touch.
He chuckled, seeing you so desperate like this is so cute but also turning him on, Chan hook his finger to move your drenched panties to the side, displaying your glistening pussy clenching around nothing. He mutter "Fuck—" from the sight, "You're leaking baby, holy shit" your pussy is so wet—drench even— he bet he could slide right in right then and there, but he didn't want to rush, he wants to take this moment slowly, savoring every inch of your body, worshiping it, he wants to make love to you.
He began to run his finger up and down your slit, teasing the clit with his thumb, brushing it slowly making squelching noise from how wet you were. "You hear that baby?" He said, looking up to watch your fucked out expression, lips swollen from how much you bite it to muffle your sound, eyes looking down at him, you look so pretty like this—he thought.
Seeing you enjoying his action, Bang Chan started to get bold, he lick a fat stripe along your fold making you let out the most pornographic sound that you don't even know you could. "Ahhh Chanh fuck" eyes rolling back to the back of your head, the feeling of his warm tongue on your pussy is top notch, you never feel this good before. He continue his action, licking your cunt skillfully leaving you breathy and a moaning mess, hand fall to his head, gripping his hair for the overwhelming pleasure, that sent a shiver down his spine, the sound that u made is enough to make him rock hard and trying so hard not to bust in his pants.
"Fuck baby, keep moaning my name like that mmhh you taste so sweet" he said while giving your clit a kitten lick, making you feel a knot bubbling in your lower belly, a strange feeling that you've never experience before.
Your moan getting louder in each flick of his tongue, Chan knew that you were so close, he try to elevate the pleasure, he insert 2 finger into your hole, making you scream and tug his hair harder, the painfull stings on his scalp sending a rush right in to his throbing cock making him moan onto your pussy, the humm create a buzz who made you clench on his digit, making the knot inside your belly tighten, you are so close.
"Chanh i–i nghh fuck" the words die in your throat, he chuckle, quicken his finger pace, pumping his finger into you faster, curling it in the right spot where you can see the star.
"Cum princess, let go, cum on my mouth like a good girl you are" he keep hitting that certain spot with an unbelievably quick pace, making you break and cum on his mouth, your orgasm washes over like a tsunami, leaving you breathless from the intense orgasm you just had.
Chan sit up from his position, licking his lips clean, your wetness spreading all over his chin, the sight is blissful making you blush so hard, heat rushing up to your cheeks seeing him covered in your cum.
His smirk grew wider as he leaned in, his fingers sliding down to your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. “You’re blushing, darling,” he teased, his voice low and smooth, dripping with mischief. “Did I make you shy, or was it the way you screamed my name?”
Your breath caught in your throat, his words sending a wave of heat rushing through your entire body. You tried to look away, but he caught you, gently pressing his forehead to yours. His scent enveloped you—warm, intoxicating, and entirely him.
“Don’t hide from me now,” he whispered, his nose brushing against yours. “I want to see every bit of you like this. All messy, all mine.”
His lips found the corner of your mouth, pressing a feather-light kiss that sent sparks racing through you. Then another kiss, softer, right below your jaw. Each touch was deliberate, leaving you breathless and clinging to his shoulders for balance.
“Chan,” you finally managed to whisper, your voice shaky but laced with yearning.
He hummed against your skin, pulling back just enough to lock eyes with you, "Say it again," he murmured, his thumb tracing your lower lip. His gaze was dark, filled with something unspoken yet undeniable.
Your lips parted, and before you could even utter another word, his mouth was on yours— hungry, claiming, leaving no room for hesitation. His hand reaching to the waistband of your panties, sliding it down to your ankle, leaving you bare for him, the cold air hitting your core sent a shiver all over your body, making you gasp from the contact. His hands sliding back to your waist, pulling you flush against him, grinding his rock hard cock on your bare pussy.
The contact drew a chorus of moans from both of you, the raw pleasure sparking between your bodies like fire. “You feel that, baby?” Chan groaned, his voice thick and ragged, hips grinding against you with deliberate force. “Fuck… look what you do to me.”
His lips parted, his breath shallow and uneven as he took in the sight of you beneath him, flushed and needy. It was enough to snap the last thread of his patience. Without wasting another second, his hands moved with purpose, fingers fumbling slightly as he unbuckled his belt. The sharp clink echoed in the heated air, sending a thrill down your spine.
His gaze never left you, dark and full of promise, as he freed himself, his cock springing to life in his hand. “I can’t wait any longer, can i baby?” he murmured, the desperation in his tone making your heart race but the way he still asking for your consent is making you melt, you nod eagerly, muttering a soft "Please," that makes Chan groaning in return.
Your breath hitched as his hand returned to your waist, steadying you as the tip of his cock brushed against your entrance. The sensation sent a jolt of electricity through you, and your fingers instinctively gripped his shoulders, holding on for dear life.
“Relax, baby,” Chan murmured, his voice softer now but no less commanding. “I’ve got you.”
Slowly, he pushed forward, the stretch making you gasp, your body adjusting to the delicious intrusion. His low groan vibrated against your skin as he buried himself inside you inch by inch, his head falling to the crook of your neck.
“You feel so perfect,” he whispered, his voice shaking with restraint. “So tight… so warm… just for me.”
Your nails dug into his back, your mind hazy with pleasure as he finally stilled, letting you catch your breath. He pressed a tender kiss to your shoulder, his hands stroking your sides soothingly, grounding you in the moment.
“Tell me how you feel,” he urged, his lips brushing against your ear.
You couldn’t find the words, overwhelmed by the fullness and the way your bodies seemed to meld together. Instead, you let out a shaky moan, tilting your hips slightly in response. That was all the encouragement he needed.
Chan began to move, pulling out almost completely before thrusting back in, slow and deep. The sensation was maddening, each roll of his hips perfectly measured to drive you wild. He set a pace that was both tender and commanding, as though he wanted to savor every second while still unraveling you completely.
“Look at me,” he said, his voice rough but filled with affection. You opened your eyes, meeting his intense gaze. The way he looked at you—with unbridled desire and something much deeper—made your heart skip a beat.
“You’re mine,” he murmured, punctuating his words with a deep thrust that left you gasping. "And i'm going to show you exactly what that means."
His words sent a shiver down your spine, the possessiveness in his tone making your core tighten around him. Chan groaned at the feeling, his control slipping as he snapped his hips harder, pulling a cry from your lips.
“That’s it,” he rasped, his hands gripping your hips as if anchoring himself. “You’re taking me so well, baby. So good for me.”
Each thrust seemed to claim you further, his movements growing more desperate as your moans filled the room. The sound of your bodies meeting was intoxicating, mixing with the broken gasps and groans that spilled freely from both of you.
“Chan, please,” you whimpered, your body trembling under his relentless rhythm.
“Please what, baby?” he teased, though his voice was strained, his forehead damp with sweat. He slowed his pace just enough to drive you insane, his cock dragging against your most sensitive spots with every deliberate stroke.
“Faster,” you pleaded, your nails digging into his arms. “Don’t stop.”
His smirk returned, though it was softer now, his lips brushing against yours in a fleeting kiss. “Anything for you,” he murmured.
With that, he adjusted his grip, pulling your legs higher around his waist as he slammed into you, deeper and harder than before. The angle was devastating, and you cried out, your body arching into him as pleasure coiled tight in your stomach.
“That’s my girl,” he groaned, his voice rough and full of pride. “I can feel you, baby. You’re so close, aren’t you?”
You nodded frantically, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. His lips brushed your ear as he whispered, “You’re gonna take everything I give you, aren’t you? Let me fill you up, baby. Let me make you mine in every way.”
The heat pooling in your stomach surged at his words, the thought pushing you even closer to the edge.
“Yes,” you whimpered, your voice trembling. “I’m yours. Always.”
“That’s right,” he growled, his pace quickening, each thrust hitting deeper. “Gonna fill you up so good. Gonna make sure you feel me for days.” he said, and his palm pressing to the buldge visible on your lower belly, where his cock going in and out.
The tension inside you snapped with his words, a wave of ecstasy crashing over you as your walls clenched around him. You cried out his name, your body trembling as pleasure overwhelmed you.
Chan cursed under his breath, his hips stuttering as your release pulled him over the edge. He buried himself deep with a guttural groan, his warmth spilling into you as he held you close, his grip on your hips unrelenting.
“Fuck,” he panted, his forehead pressing against yours as he caught his breath. “You’re perfect. You were made for me, baby.”
As the intensity of the moment passed, the room fell into a quieter, more peaceful rhythm. Chan pulled out slowly, carefully adjusting you so that you were no longer perched on the desk but supported against him, still breathing heavily. His hands gently cupped your face, his touch tender and reassuring.
“Hey, baby, are you okay?” His voice was soft, the previous urgency replaced by a genuine concern. His eyes searched yours, his gaze warm and comforting.
You nodded, still catching your breath, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I’m okay,” you whispered, your hands gently brushing his chest as you let your head rest against him.
Chan let out a breath of relief, his hand sliding down to your back as he pulled you closer to him, his warmth grounding you. He held you against him, his lips brushing your forehead in a soft kiss.
“You were amazing,” he murmured, his voice thick with affection. “I’ve got you, alright? Just breathe, take your time.”
His hands continued to move gently over your skin, tracing circles along your back and shoulders as if he were trying to erase any tension that might have lingered.
After a few moments, you met his gaze again, your heart still racing but feeling safe and cherished in his arms. “Thank you,” you said softly, your voice trembling just a little. “For being so gentle…”
He smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “Anything for you, baby."
Chan leaned in and kissed you again, slow and tender this time, his lips soft against yours. When he pulled back, he continued to hold you close, his hands never leaving your body.
“You’re perfect," he said, giving your lips a light peck.
The air was still heavy with the aftermath, but now it felt like a calming silence, the love and care in his words washing over you like a warm tide. You stayed close, letting the quiet moments stretch out between you, savoring the feeling of his presence.
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clockwayswrites · 3 months ago
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A Bird in the building is worth to in the car. Or something. Part 23
yes, I do have too much fun with these part titles masterpost
The efficiency that Danny and the kids were ushered, privately and securely, into the parking garage and the waiting car with was impressive. Bruce gave the order and then in a breath they were at the car. Unable to fight the instinct, Danny had kept his wings around the boys the whole way, as if he could protect them from the world.
Even in the car Danny still wanted to protectively drape his wings around them. He was grateful when both boys let him. He was grateful that Mr. Pennyworth didn’t comment on the wings at all. He just wished Bruce had gone with them.
It was completely understandable for Bruce to have to check on the situation and the people who had been in the building before leaving, but it left Danny feeling on edge. It would be better once Bruce was back in the car, and Danny knew that everyone here was safe. If it had been possible, he would have preferred to wait in the safe room. With the incoming cops that hadn’t been wise.
What felt like too long later, Danny watched Bruce walk towards the car through the tinted windows, flanked by very alert security. The door opening and closing felt very final. Danny let out a breath he hadn’t exactly been holding, but had still felt clogged up in his chest.
Bruce leaned across the center console and part way into the back seat. “Are you all alright?”
“Yes, Father,” Damian said where he was just barely leaning into Danny’s side and cradled by a wing.
“Yeah,” Tim said. “But, B, he was following me. He said he saw me going into the building. He called me a dormouse. I didn’t… I didn’t even notice him until he came into the building.”
Danny carded talons through Tim’s hair, hoping to calm himself as much as Tim or else he might go back and show the Mad Hatter how terrifying he could really get.
Bruce didn’t look any more pleased at that. “We’ll look into it, and I’ll pass along the information too. We’ll have to put some security on you for a bit in case he has others under control who are still after you.”
Tim frowned at that and Danny couldn’t resist leaning over to press a kiss to Tim’s hair, as presumptuous as the act was. “Let us protect you, hummingbird.”
Tim looked up at him. “Hummingbird?”
Danny just gave a little shrug. It seemed to fit. He didn’t think too much about it. It fit in the same way as being able to wrap his wings around them and the need to protect them.
“And what about you?” Bruce asked.
Danny glanced at the other man, tilting his head quizzically.
“Are you alright?” Bruce clarified.
“He was not before the event,” Damian jumped in quickly. “He was obviously fatigued and suffering from either a headache or over stimulation from the noise.”
“Or both,” Tim added. “We thought he might be leaving to go home.”
“I was just leaving to get lunch,” Danny sighed, even though they weren’t wrong about the rest.
Bruce frowned and held his hand out, which Danny just blinked at.
“Hand, Danny,” Bruce explained. “I want to check your pulse.”
Danny froze. He was suddenly, excruciatingly aware that his hand was still tipped in talon and small feathers. He snatched his hand out of Tim’s hair, worried now that his hand alone had been too much, as distorted as it was. He crossed his arms, hiding his hands against his body.
“I’m fine.”
Bruce didn’t pull his hand back. Instead his whole face softened in a sad way that confused Danny.
“We aren’t afraid of you, Danny,” Bruce said. His voice was a comforting low rumble that Danny wanted desperately to trust. “You’ve been nothing but kind to my family and today you kept them safe. The physical changes you went through to do that do not scare me.”
Danny glanced down and away, trying to avoid looking at any of them in the tight space of the car. “They scare me.”
Damian clicked his tongue and leaned further into Danny’s side, further in under the wing. Tim reached for a hand. Not wanting to accidentally hurt Tim with the sharp talons, Danny reluctantly let him take it. Tim wrapped his own fingers confidently around Danny’s.
Bruce still waited with his hand out.
Danny chewed on his lip, an old nervous tick. Bruce waited. The boys stayed close. Finally, Danny let out a huff of air and offered his hand up to Bruce.
“Your pulse is a bit erratic,” Bruce said after he had counted Danny’s pulse along to the ticking of his watch. He didn’t let go of Danny’s hand after it, instead he ran his thumb against Danny’s wrist. The touch almost made Danny shiver in a good way.
“I, ah, adrenalin crash, I figure,” Danny said once he could find his words.
“Are you alright returning to the Manor so that we can keep an eye on you?”
“Oh I get asked this time?” Danny teased. Teasing was easier.
Bruce just chuckled. “Well you are awake.”
“I… yes,” Danny answered. It was less about him being looked after and more so that he could look after the boys. If he went home now, he’d worry all night.
Mr. Pennyworth finally started the car. “Will you be needing medication or any such health items from your apartment, sir?”
Danny shook his head. “I keep some extra doses in my bag. And really, just Danny is alright.”
“Then to home, Master Danny.”
Danny tried not to miss the touch as Bruce pulled away and buckled in for the drive.
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veltana · 10 months ago
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Unleashed - Avengers!Bucky/Fem!Reader
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✦ Pairing: Avengers!Bucky Barnes/Fem!Reader
✦ Word count: ~4,2k
✦ Rating: Explicit
✦ Warnings/tags: Sex pollen adjacent kinda, smut, a bit fluffy, one shot, possessive!Bucky, co-workers/friends to lovers, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex, vaginal sex, multiple orgasms, forced orgasms, orgasm denial, dirty talk, praise, creampie, pet names (doll).
✦ Summary: During a mission, Bucky is exposed to something that removes his inhibitions and all he wants is you.
✦ Note: Previously posted on AO3 since I have basically no time or energy to write new stuff. It was titled You’re what I need before but I always hated that title so I decided to re-name it. Bucky is kind of an asshole in this, but it's just because he wants you! As always, reblogs, comments, and asks are very welcome ❤️
Masterlist | AO3
The worst part about watching from afar as a mission goes to shit is that you feel useless. Even as you dispatch medics for the team all you can do is tell them, "Help is on the way."
Captain America shouts orders that you hear through the comms. The wait feels endless until the crew of the quinjet declares that they have spotted the team and there's not much else for you to do but look at your monitors and wait for an update. When you get the call back that the team is secure you breathe a sigh of relief, but then the next message is to prepare the medical staff to receive multiple injuries and chemical exposure. You ask the crew to clarify, but they are too busy, so when you notify the medical center, they prepare a quarantine room.
Sometimes you wish you had a superpower and could be there with them instead of staring at your monitors and doing endless calculations on whatever the team needs. But then when they return they always compliment your work and tell you they don’t know how they managed without you. You try to remind yourself of those moments at times like this.
Once the quinjet is docked and everyone has been accounted for you push away from your desk and remove your headset, taking deep breaths and trying to calm your heart. A moment later a message pops up on your screen, probably because they couldn’t reach you through your comms. [Bucky wants you to come down here]
Your heart does a little flip in your chest, making you scowl. He is your friend and probably injured, you have no idea why he would be asking for you, but it’s not because he feels the same way you do. You grab your tablet and head to the MedBay.
When you get down you take stock of the situation. Nat and Steve have some scratches, Sam's arm is broken and Wanda has a few cracked ribs. Tony is bruised, his suit had taken most of the damage. You look around for Bucky but don’t see him anywhere and quickly deduce that he must be the person currently in quarantine.
When you get to the wing, you’re almost too scared to go in, afraid to see what could have happened to him. Inside, you find a team of medical personnel discussing Bucky's condition with him through a glass wall. His hair looks damp and he's wearing standard-issue quarantine clothing, soft black pants, and a black sweatshirt. When he sees you standing patiently at the side he says. "You can come back later. I need to talk to her more than I need to talk to you. Go away." His voice comes from speakers in the ceiling.
You're shocked by his behavior but smile apologetically as the white coats pass you on their way out. When you get up to the glass you hiss. "Bucky, what is wrong with you, don't be rude.” "You make it sound like I'm never rude otherwise," he laughs. "You're not rude to healthcare professionals, you know better." You glare at him as you wake your tablet. “Now what did you need me for?”
"Do you like me?" he asks. Your mouth falls open and your heart starts to beat faster. You’re happy your vitals aren’t monitored as you quickly collect yourself and try to deflect his question. "Of course I like you Bucky, you're my friend." But now it feels weird to look at him and you find a spot on the wall far behind him to focus on.
"What if I want more than friends?" is his next question and despite your best efforts, hope warms your chest. This is not happening. Of course you toyed with the idea of you and Bucky, he is always sweet to you, and if he has the chance he brings you gifts from the missions. But you’ve told yourself repeatedly that he needs someone stronger, who can keep up with him in the field and you’re not that person.
"Can we have this conversation when you are not high on some HYDRA drug?” you ask, trying to keep your voice from betraying you. They are monitoring everything in the room. And there is a sheet of unbreakable glass in between you both. If you're going to confess your feelings, it won't be like this.
"I'm not high," he huffs. "My mind has never been clearer." "I still think we should have this conversation later." "Doll, look at me." The command in his voice is so strong you don’t think, you snap your eyes to his and they are so blue and soft.
"I will feel the same tomorrow, and the day after, whenever this drug wears off but now is the only time I can't hold my tongue," he explains. You place your hand on the glass and he does the same on the other side. "It will be fine Bucky, I promise," you say just as the door opens and Steve walks in, making you pull your hand back to your side. He's showered, in a fresh pair of clothes and he swings his arm over your shoulder.
"Stop hogging her time Bucky, I know for a fact that she also needs to debrief," he smiles but Bucky looks as if he's seeing red. Through gritted teeth he presses out, "Get your fucking arm off her, punk. She's mine."
You and Steve burst into laughter because it has to be a joke, but then Bucky punches the barrier with his vibranium arm. The glass doesn't crack but both you and Steve stop short and step away in shock. Steve removes his arm and says, "I'll meet you upstairs." Before quickly heading out.
You turn to Bucky and point at him, anger rising in your chest. "What is wrong with you? Steve is your friend!" "That is what it’s like in here every day,” he points to his head. You're taken aback by his statement and his wide feral eyes. Clearly, whatever he was exposed to had messed with his head and he's not himself. “Bucky I need to go,” you tell him, and before he can protest you continue. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” You smile feebly at him and are out the door before he can say anything else.
After debriefing and having dinner you go to bed early. Your head is spinning with the day and most of all, Bucky.
It's way past midnight when you wake to the soft closing of your door. Since you always sleep with a night light the soft warm glow reflects off his left arm and leaves no doubt about who has entered your room. You blink at him but before you can ask a question he rasps out, pleading. "I need you. So bad. Please doll, help me." He moves closer to your bed.
You quickly remove your covers and get up, glad the giant t-shirt covers you to your thighs, ready to spring into action. "Anything Bucky, what do you need?" You stop an arm's length from him, but all he does is reach his hand out to cup your face, letting his thumb stroke your cheek. There is a wild look in his eyes but you keep calm. "I can't get you what you need if you don't tell me," you whisper, meeting his eyes and watching as his brow furrows.
"I need you. Right now. If I don't get to touch and taste every inch of your body I'm going to lose my mind," he confesses in a low voice. His words shock you and you hitch a breath. You’re not sure what you’re supposed to do. You have this great friendship. If things were different you would not have minded taking it to another level, but with the day in mind and the fact that he somehow got out of his containment room you say, "Bucky, you’re not yourself, you need to get back to-”
"Doll,” he interrupts with a hard voice. “For once, I feel more like myself than I have in a long time. The only thing the drug did, I think, was remove my inhibitions. For once I feel free. My mind isn't controlled by HYDRA or by fear that you'll reject me. All I know is that I crave you and I can't be quiet about it anymore.”
"Bucky… I…" your whole body is flushed with warmth from his words and you're not sure how to respond. "I dreamt about you and couldn't stop myself from going over here. I don't want to hurt you, doll, but I'm not sure this drug will let me leave. All I wanna do is move closer to you.” You swallow hard as he continues, thumb still stroking your cheek. “Ask FRIDAY to get Steve, or the Hulk if you want me to leave."
Instead, you step into him, making up your mind in an instant and resting your hands on his chest. "Stay, I'll be glad to help you with anything you need," you whisper honestly and by the way his eyes widen there was still some doubt in his mind that you would reject him.
Instead of saying anything his vibranium hand grasps your waist and pulls you closer. There is no escaping the smell and size of him and his hands on you got your pussy throbbing for him already.
"I hope you understand what you've agreed to," he whispers, leaning closer. "Once I have you I won't stop, you'll never be rid of me. I'll claim you against every surface of this fucking compound if I need to." That makes you whimper and press harder against him. "Fuck you'd like that huh? Are you a kinky little thing? Like getting fucked where people can see you and hear you moan, do you want people to see my hard dick spread you open?" "Fuck Bucky!" You exclaim and lean your forehead against his chest. Maybe that idea excites you or maybe it is just that the word ‘claim’ sounds so primal.
"You're going to tell me all your little secrets later, doll. But now, I'm going to take what's mine." And with that, he crushes his lips to yours. He backs you towards the bed, kissing you the whole time, letting his hands explore you. When you land on your back, he stands over you with eyes like a predator about to devour its prey.
You shuffle up until your head rests on the pillows, spreading your legs for him. Without taking off any clothes he crawls after you, settling on his knees between your legs and placing his hands on the headboard, crowding you with his large frame. "Mine," he whispers and it makes a shudder pass through you. He ruts his clothed cock against your core, slicking your underwear even more and making you whine, gripping the sheets under you.
"Yes," he almost hisses as the length of his dick presses on your clit and forces a mewl out of you. It's been a long time since you've gotten laid. "Bucky," you plead. "No doll, I'm going to enjoy every fucking second of claiming you, from the outside in. Did you think this would be hard and fast and that I would be gone before you knew what happened?"
He lets go of the headboard to put his elbows beside your head instead, his weight on you, pressing you down into the mattress. "When I leave you will long for me, spend every waking second wishing I was still inside you. I want your cunt to be permanently drenched so I can fuck you whenever I please." He kisses you forcefully and any coherent thought that was left in your head flees. "And when you're too sore to take more of my dick in your pussy I'm going to do the same thing to your mouth and ass."
He rids you off your t-shirt and instead of having to move from between your legs to pull off your underwear, he rips them apart. "Ah!" you exclaim when the force of his movements jolts you but he takes no notice, he just stares at you, letting his hands roam up and down your sides, up to your tits, cupping them and caressing your nipples with his thumbs.
Whimpers are coming from you with every pass of this touch. Then he moves down and lays on his stomach, not saying a word as he sweeps his tongue over your pussy before he starts devouring you with a throaty moan.
It doesn’t take long for the first orgasm to take you, his movements are precise and his words and actions have made you hornier than you’ve ever experienced. Or maybe it's because he is the hottest person you’ve ever laid eyes on and he only wants you.
When you’re finished and sensitive he dips his tongue into your hole to taste you and groans loudly, lapping up the wetness from your orgasm. "Better than I've dreamed of," he says when he pulls away. Now you’re the one that must be high because you can't help but giggle. "You seriously dream of me?" "All the time, doll. Every night when I go to bed I wish you were with me and then you plague my sleep with your soft curves and radiant smile."
You're about to tell him how his laugh makes you warm and fuzzy on the inside but at that moment he sucks your clit into his mouth, cutting out every thought in your brain. He's gentle but not hesitant, it's as if he's feeling you out and when you make a particularly loud sound he continues the same movement, making your whole body go hot.
The second orgasm is intense enough to send aftershocks through for a long while afterward. Bucky lays his head on your thigh as you tremble, caressing your skin and letting the fingers of his right hand skim over your opening.
Despite what he's already given you, you still crave more. His fingertips never come close to where you need them and when you whine at the back of your throat Bucky smiles up at you. "Don't worry, I'm not even close to done with you, but I don't want you to pass out on me.” One of his fingers glides inside, making you take a sharp breath just because it feels so good. Once again he is careful, moving slowly, listening to your breath and your body.
"Please Bucky, I need more.” "No need to beg, I'll give you everything you want… in time," he breathes and kisses the skin on the inside of your thigh. Slowly he moves his finger in and out. You're sure it's a form of torture. The sweetest kind there is. Your breathing is labored and when he finally adds a second, you start to quiver.
He nips at your skin and then kisses it before speaking. "You look like a goddess, doll, eyes filled with lust, your skin is gleaming. I'm going to worship you until you're tired of me.” "Never gonna happen," you whimper. Then his thumb lands on your clit, making you cry out. Everything is so sensitive and overstimulated.
"I don't- Bucky, I don't think I can again," you tell him even though his touches are causing your insides to melt. "Yes, you will," his voice is soft but the command is clear. So instead of trying to speak again, you sink further into the madness that is him playing with you. The third one takes its sweet time but you never feel rushed or stressed that it's taking too long. Bucky isn’t in a hurry.
Then it’s suddenly there, crashing through you. "Fuck Bucky, fuck you're gonna make me come." "So good for me, let me feel you come on my fingers," he urges. "I'm going to lick them clean afterward so make sure you get them nice and wet for me. I want as much as you'll give me." The climax reaches its peak and you come with a cry of his name, body convulsing and your hand shooting down to tangle in his hair.
"Just like that doll," he smiles up at you and holds your gaze when he pulls out his fingers and sucks them clean, moaning while he does. It's a filthy sound, but it turns you on as if he didn't just make you come for the third time. Then he dives in between your legs again, licking at your skin and your soaked hole. Letting go of his hair all you can do is just lie there, writhing, as he somehow coaxes a fourth orgasm out of you.
“Fuck me,” you plead when he pulls back. “I need you inside me Bucky.” This time he takes pity on you and moves away to take off his clothes. When he’s naked he kneels between your legs again and you spread them as wide as you can. "Want me, doll?" he asks with a smirk. He swipes his cock through your mess and then uses his hand to coat himself with you. "Yes," is all you can say. Both you and Bucky stare as he pushes his dick into you, filling you up completely. Of course, he takes it torturously slow this time too.
"This feels better than any dream I've ever had," he whispers almost in awe. You grip his biceps and arch into him, pushing him deeper, faster. That makes him tsk but smiles at the same time as he pushes the rest of the way, finally seating himself. Without giving you a chance to relax he starts fucking you, his cock pushes perfectly against your insides, pulling sounds from you that you haven't made in years.
He sits back on his heels lifting your ass effortlessly until your weight is resting on your shoulders and neck. It's like he is in a trance, pulling you onto his cock over and over again. Your body is his, your mind has fled, and all you see and feel is just him all around you. His eyes keep changing between his dick filling your cunt, your bouncing tits, and your half-lit eyes as if he is not sure where to look. "Mine," he rasps and thrusts hard to empathize the word. "All mine. Say it."
It takes some time for your brain to connect to your mouth and form the words but his gaze never leaves you. "Yours," you whimper. "I'm yours, Bucky." There is a familiar heat low in your belly that's steadily spreading through your limbs. It makes you wiggle and move because it's overwhelming. He is overwhelming in the best sense. Whining you reach down to rub yourself but he slaps your hand away. "I thought I told you, it's mine. I own this cunt. If you wanna touch yourself you have to ask permission." It's as close to a growl as is humanly possible and you don't understand how he can be so cognizant right now, because your brain is like putty. "Can I please rub my clit Bucky, I wanna come on your cock so bad," you cry.
"Good girl," he praises, and when he calls you that, your mouth falls open with a keening sound, gripping the sheets even harder, pulling at them because you want to come so bad. "Do it, show me how you get off when you're alone in bed without me." Everything is slippery and sensitive when you start with your fingers and you immediately know it's going to go fast. With his previous words in mind, you ask. "Can I come?" He meets your eyes with a wicked smile. "Fast learner. Yeah, you can come… when I tell you."
You rip your hand away, afraid you might fall over the edge at any second. The sound out of your throat is almost a sob. "Don't be like that, doll, I thought you said you couldn't do it more times?" "I can-I can! As many times as you want just please let me come." "Fuck, I like it when you beg with my cock in you." But he doesn't say anything else, just continues fucking you. He's not even winded while you're straining your entire body. Your hand wants to move back, anything to relieve the pressure inside you but Bucky was very clear and you don’t want to disobey him.
Then he pulls out and drops you onto the bed, but you don't get to relax because he flips you onto your stomach and pushes one of your knees up to the side before he presses in. His dick hits your G-spot dead on and you scream into the pillow under you. Bucky chuckles right by your ear. "Guess I found it." He's merciless, his hips hit your ass hard and if it weren't for his weight pressing you down you would soon hit the headboard.
"Bucky!" you wail because it's too much. You're losing the last pieces of your mind to the sheer force of the pleasure and you're scared you're never going to be able to come back to yourself. Then his hand presses in between you and the mattress. "Rub yourself on my fingers, make yourself cum. Fuck my cock and come all over me doll." You brace yourself as best you can and move your hips as he keeps almost completely still, just shallow thrusts in stark comparison to what he was doing to you just moments ago.
His fingers slide along your clit, his cock brushing your G-spot over and over again. You're breathless, sweat breaking out along your skin, but the climax you're chasing will be well worth it. You just know it.
"I can't fill you up until I’ve felt you come around me," he grunts, his voice tight with holding back. You whimper, the feeling of fire flushing your whole body, and building up to an eruption like no other. "Yes, yes, yes," he chants low in your ear. "That's it, come for me, make me proud. Fuck it feels so good." And he starts moving again "I'm going to fill you fucking full of my cum. That's it!"
The heat in you breaks and you come with a shout of his name, shaking under him. It gets even more intense when Bucky finishes right behind you, groaning your name. He collapses on top of you but his hips are still moving, slowly, as if he doesn’t want it to ever end. Neither would you but your body is wrecked.
When he finally rolls off, you're so close to falling asleep, but he picks you up and carries you to the bathroom. "Pee." He points and you want to tell him that you know the drill, this isn't your first time, but all that comes out is a grumble before he closes the door behind him and you sit down on the toilet.
When you're done, you stumble out and have a moment of panic, thinking he left. But then the door opens and Bucky returns with two bottles of water, handing you one before leading you to the bed and sitting you down on the edge. Gratefully you drink and lean against his shoulder before asking. "How do you feel?" "Better than I have in a long time," he answers, kissing your forehead. You chuckle. "Yeah I have a magical pussy, it can cure anything," you joke and it makes him laugh. "You should get back to quarantine," you comment. "Before anyone notices." He shakes his head. "No I'm staying here, I'm never leaving you again." He takes the bottle from your hand and places it on the bedside table together with his own. Then he crawls beneath the sheets and you go after him, letting him envelop you in a tight embrace before you fall asleep.
Alarms blare and you wake with a start. "FRIDAY what's going on?" you ask out into the room. “Sergeant Barnes has escaped his confinement.” The voice echoes through the room. You sigh and glare at Bucky grumbling beside you, like the loud signal is just a regular alarm clock. "FRIDAY please inform the team that Bucky is here and everything is fine."
A second later the sound dies and with a sigh you get up to pull on yesterday's discarded t-shirt and find a pair of pants. Right when you're done there is a knock on the door and Steve asks, "Everything okay in there?" You open the door enough to show yourself. "We're fine, he broke out during the night and came here." "Oh," Steve says and there is a hint of blush on his cheeks.
Then you feel a presence behind you and Bucky’s arm goes around your waist. "Mine," he says and you can't see him but he's probably glaring daggers at Steve who backs away. "We'll be okay, I'll alert FRIDAY if I need help," you tell Steve. When you close the door Bucky turns you before pushing you up against it and kissing you hard. "Mine," he mumbles against your lips. "Fucking caveman," you tell him. He grabs you around the waist and throws you over his shoulder. "I'll show you caveman," he says and carries you to the bed
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