#big mix of anger/protection/worry all in one

[sweetlullabyebye]

Charles Rowland being so chill about Edwin's fanboys

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Need a hand?

pairing: fuckboy!felix x afab!reader

genre: smut, enemies to ???

word count: 4.7k

synopsis: you need help assembling your new computer and the only available person is the guy you can't stand.

warnings: dom!felix, lots of teasing, protected sex (go figure), spanking, hair pulling, lots of 'good girl', fingering, oral (m), cum swallowing

a/n: enjoy🫶🏻 wrote this in a day, again, felix is my muse💕

~ divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

~ Masterlist

"What's in it for me?" he leans on the wall with that stupid smirk of his and those big stupid sparkly eyes.

Anger is already bubbling up inside you and your hand twitches, the image of you slapping him across the face and wiping that stupid smirk off runs through your mind.

"Can't you just do something out of decency?" you scoff and he chuckles deeply.

"Maybe I'm not decent." he shrugs nonchalantly, flicking his cigarette carelessly on the floor.

"You're littering." you cross your arms on your chest.

"And you're stalling. Do you want it or not?" he leans in closer to your face, his freckles on display for you to count.

Not that you care, of course.

Your nose scrunches up at the smell of cigarettes permeating off of him, mixed with his cologne and something distinct about him.

"Fine." you spit and he laughs, leaning away.

"No." he answers and your jaw drops.

"No?" you blink confusedly.

"Ask me again. Nicely. And I might consider it." he says, smirking again.

The urge to slap him out of existence comes back.

"I'll find someone else." you turn around, gritting your teeth.

"No, you won't." he calls behind you. "I know you're embarassed to ask for help. I wonder how you even managed to come to me."

"Shut up." you groan before turning to look at him again.

Instead of a smirk, there's a soft smile on his face and you curse yourself for feeling your heart flutter.

"Come on, dove. I know you're a nice girl and you can ask politely." he smirks again with his tongue in cheek.

You know he's not gonna give up until he gets what he wants.

"Please, come help me assemble my new computer?" you bat your eyelashes a few times for good measure and Felix chuckles.

"See, that wasn't so hard. I'll help you. But it comes with a price. I don't do things like this for free." there's a mischievous glint in his eyes, his tongue darting out to wet his plump lips.

You're totally not looking at them.

"What price?" you ask, your heart beating fast, partly in fear and partly in excitement.

"Oh. Don't worry about that, dove. I'll help you first, and then you'll help me." a shit eating grin spreads on Felix's face.

What did you even agree to?, you think.

He was your last resort, after asking seven of your other close friends (who were sadly close to him), they all turned you down with different excuses leaving you with no options but to ask the guy you hate.

"Whatever." you scoff and turn around. "Tomorrow, 7pm at my apartment. Don't be late."

"Sure thing, dove." he calls behind you and you wish you could curse him out.

Lee Felix.

The campus notorious fuckboy.

Everyone talks about him and his 'conquests', all the girls he slept with and then ghosted, but still every single one of them was obnoxiously crushing on him.

You'd hear them talk, how they wish he'd pick them next and a scowl would form on your face.

Do they not have any respect for themselves?

Though everyone talked about him, you never saw him with any girls.

You figured it's probably because you never attended any sort of parties, only keeping up with your studies and a few close friends.

Sadly, your close friends were friends with Felix and that meant you had to endure his presence.

Whether it was your go-to cafe, or a study session in the library, that asshole had to come and ruin your day.

He flirted openly with you and you'd always tell him to fuck off which only served to make him even more persistent.

He could have anyone he wanted and yet whenever he had the chance, he would throw a suggestive comment your way.

It was ticking you off constantly, and you knew he was playing a game, just trying to add another girl to his ever-growing list of fucks.

You weren't gonna give in.

But as much as you hated him, what you hated even more was the fact that his voice made your stomach flutter and his smile made your heart beat faster.

You'd be damned if you let that affect you, though.

That's what you thought, as you waited for him to arrive to your apartment.

Why are you nervous?, you think as you pace back and forth in your living room, biting on your nails.

Hopefully, he actually knows what he's doing since he brags about being a computer geek or else he'll just be wasting your time.

You frown when you notice that he's almost 20 minutes late.

What an asshole.

A series of knocks break you out of your thoughts and you make your way to the door slowly, letting him wait.

You peek through the peephole and see him standing there, in a tanktop, his hair messy, an unlit cigarette stuck behind his ear and shivers run through your body.

Why does he look so good?

He fidgets around as if he's nervous and you raise your eyebrow as he knocks again and runs his hand through his hair a few times, his plump lips pursed.

You stifle a laugh and decide to open the door.

"Took you long enough." he says with a straight face, obviously giving you the elevator eyes.

You hug yourself with your cardigan and squint at him.

"You're the one who's late!" you scoff in disbelief as he pushes past you and walks in like it's his place.

The audacity.

"Where is it?" he asks, grabbing the cigarette that was on his ear and taking out a lighter.

"You're not smoking in my apartment." you snatch the cigarette out of his mouth, throwing it right into the trash and he looks at you before his face breaks into a smirk.

"Bossy, are we?" he licks his lips.

You're totally not looking...

"Let's just get this over with." you say and turn around but notice he isn't following you.

"What is it now?" you look back at him as he crosses his arms over his chest, intentionally flexing his biceps and you gulp quietly, your eyes raking over his frame.

"What kind of host are you? You didn't even ask me if I wanted something to eat or drink." he says.

"You are insufferable." you scoff, but your cheeks heat up.

"Why, thank you." he bows a little. "I'd like some water, please."

"Fine." you all but stomp your way to the kitchen, contemplating for a moment to bring him literal ice in a glass and make him wait for it to melt.

But, you decide to be the bigger person and not get his arrogant teasing get to you.

"Here." you bring him a glass of water and he sips as he stares at you, and you know he's making sure to drink extra slowly just to get on your nerves.

"The computer parts are in my room." you say and Felix finally follows you.

As soon as he walks in, you can see him analyzing your room as he looks around.

Only then you realize how intimate it is to have someone in your room, taking a glimpse at your inner world and comfort place.

"Nice bed." he smirks, his eyes lingering on your soft baby blue blanket and a few plushies leaning against your pillows.

"Anyways. Here it is." you ignore his little comment, pointing at your table.

"Damn. You need this computer for what?" he asks as he looks over at the parts.

"I wanna start making games on Unity." you say and he chuckles.

"What's funny?" you think he's about to mock you, call you stupid for not knowing how to assemble your own computer yet wanting to do something so intricate like programming and 3D modeling.

"Nothing. I think that's cute." Felix's eyes travel all over your body again and you hug yourself.

"You're weird." is the only thing you can think of to answer, nervousness washing over you as the fact that you're alone with Felix in your room finally settles in your brain.

"This is gonna take a while." he hums.

"Alright, I'll just be on my bed then, catching up with my studies. Let me know if you need something." you say and he snorts.

"I thought you'd like to see what I'm doing so next time you don't have to call me if you hate me so much. It'll be like we're hanging out." Felix smirks and you let out an exhale.

"I'd rather not." you reply shortly before turning your back to him, deciding to ignore him.

You can hear him sigh, and for a while it's quiet, only some lofi music playing from your phone before you hear Felix handling the computer parts.

You concentrate on your book, highlighting the important sentences, and as you fall into a comfortable headspace, you almost forget about Felix.

Almost.

"Hey dove, you got something sweet to snack on?" his deep voice breaks your concentration and when you turn to look at him, he licks his lips suggestively and you have to roll your eyes.

He chuckles at your expression as you get up.

"I'll go see what I have."

You rummage through your kitchen cabinets and find some chocolate cookies which you serve on a plate and bring it together with a glass of juice.

"Thank you, dove." he smirks up at you and you just shake your head, making your way back to your comfy bed.

You're deep into your book when suddenly you feel your bed dip.

"What the hell are you doing?" you squeak when you turn around and see Felix leaning on your pillows, laying on your bed.

"Takin' a break." he closes his eyes with a smirk.

"You can't take a break on my bed."

"Why not? Am I making you nervous, dove?" Felix stares up at you and your heart starts hammering in your chest.

He has no right to look this pretty.

Wait, what?

"Hm?" he grins when you stay quiet.

"You have no effect on me whatsoever."

"Keep telling yourself lies." his voice dips lower as he sits up.

"Besides, it's rude to just lay down on someone's bed." you swallow nervously as Felix reaches towards you.

For some reason you can't move as you think he'll touch you but he doesn't, instead he picks up one of your plushies and looks at it.

"Do they have names?" he asks and you stare at him for a few moments before you start laughing in disbelief.

"What? It's a legit question." he shrugs, still holding the teddy in his hands.

"Why are you here, Felix?" you ignore him.

"To assemble your computer?" he bites on his lip.

He really should stop doing that.

"Yeah. So go do that."

"Damn, you're playing hard to get." he chuckles, leaning towards you.

"What is your problem?" you snap suddenly. "Didn't you like fuck half the campus? Why are you trying to get into my pants?"

His eyes widen a little, his lips falling open as he stares at you.

"I did what?" he chuckles.

"Don't act innocent. Everyone knows you're a fuckboy and you're just trying to fuck every girl here so you can have your list of conquests." you cross your arms over your chest, your mood becoming sour.

"Wow, people here really have a knack for telling stories." Felix chuckles again as he leans back on your pillows.

You frown as you turn to look at him.

"What do you mean?" you ask.

"Nothing." he gets up suddenly. "I'll finish what I started." Felix adds, not looking at you as he sits back at your table and continues working.

You can feel the shift in the air, the atmosphere becoming heavier than before and you sigh as you stare at his back.

You get back to studying, trying to ignore the weird feeling stirring in your stomach.

"I'm done." Felix announces after some time and you stand up slowly, making your way to him. "Do you want me to install Windows and stuff?"

"If you don't mind. I mean, not that I can't do it, it's just since you're here, you know..." you start babbling nervously and Felix chuckles.

"Relax, dove." he says with a smirk.

"I'm relaxed." you quip.

"Sure you are." he nods, his lips pursed.

You wonder what it would be like to kiss them.

What is wrong with you? You hate Felix, you think, mentally slapping yourself.

"Okay, it'll take some time to install." he leans back in your chair, his legs spread and just then you notice the sweatpants he's wearing and how they look kind of tight.

And how you can kind of see the outline of him.

"Want something? Just ask." Felix snaps you out of your thoughts.

Oh my god, you panic. You were openly staring at his dick.

He's wearing that shit eating grin on his face as yours becomes red.

"N-no." your throat is dry suddenly.

"Did I do good?" he leans towards you suddenly, making you jolt and almost trip backwards, the back of your thighs hitting the table behind you.

He smirks up at you as your cardigan slides off your shoulder, giving him a better view of your tits in the flimsy top you had on.

"I- yes. I think." you try hard to remain normal but nothing is normal about Felix standing up and trapping you between the table and his body, as his palms lay flat on the wooden surface and you gulp.

"Now you gotta help me, dove." he says, his eyes traveling from yours to your lips.

He looks as if he wants to devour you and you feel like your entire being is on fire when he's close to you like that, the warmth of his body radiating onto yours.

"W-what do you want?" you try to sound normal, but your words come out shaky.

Felix smirks proudly, knowing the effect he has on you.

"You." he answers simply and you sputter a little.

"Excuse me?" you look at him with your eyes wide.

"I want you." he repeats, his face serious, his dark eyes seem even darker, filled with lust and your knees buckle a little.

"You're crazy if you think-"

"Just one kiss. And if you hate it, I'll stop bothering you." he smirks.

"You're insufferable." your heart beats fast, your core throbbing as you feel your arousal drip on your panties.

"So you've told me, dove." he whispers, his lips dangerously close to yours.

"Fine. One kiss." you give in and before you can even utter anything else, his lips are on yours.

It's not what you imagined, you thought he'd kiss you hungrily and sloppily, but his kiss feels more desperate and slow, like he's been living and waiting just for this moment, just to have you under his spell.

You know everything about him, or you think you do, you know he's just a fuckboy, and you're the same as those other girls who fell under his charm but his lips are so addicting.

You're cursing yourself on the inside but you can't stop kissing him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders, your hand on the back of his neck, fingertips tangled in his dark hair.

Felix responds with a quiet hum, his hands flying to your waist as he presses himself into you and you gasp, giving him the opportunity to push his tongue inside your mouth.

He tastes like chocolate and cigarettes, like Felix.

You can't believe you're letting your sworn enemy kiss you.

His tongue explores your mouth, savoring the way you taste and swallowing the little moans you make as you pull at his hair.

Felix whines into you, biting on your lower lip before releasing it and leaning back.

His eyes are filled with lust and you're sure that you mirror his gaze.

"I take it you enjoyed that." Felix's voice is even more deep and husky as he observes your perky nipples poking against your flimsy top and your thighs subtly rubbing together.

His hands slide down to grab at your ass and you squeak, jolting and grabbing onto his arms.

"I- I..." you try to come up with some kind of witty answer but all that's running through your mind is letting Felix have his way with you.

You feel his hard cock pressing into you and he chuckles deeply when he realizes you have nothing to say.

"Cat got your tongue, baby?" he smirks, puffing his chest out and it runs right through you and lands into your core, more arousal pooling on your already soaked panties.

"You want more?" he asks as your lips tremble.

"Y-yeah." you say weakly, angry at yourself for being like this but at this point you were ready to throw everything out the window just for him.

You guess that he was just that good, and every girl fell for his charm and let him take her, and now you're going to be just another number on his list.

"Ask nicely, dove." his hand wraps around your neck and you gasp a little, leaning into his touch.

"P-please, more." your voice is almost unrecognizable and Felix laughs before grabbing you and turning you around quickly, his hand pushed into your upper back, making your front collide with the table.

You whimper as he slides off your cardigan, tossing it aside and pressing his middle into your ass hard.

"You're so sweet, my dove. Such a good girl." he holds you down, his other hand caressing your ass as he grinds into you slowly.

"Oh - shut up." you groan, feeling frustrated and needy.

"Don't be a brat." he warns with a little pinch on your flesh.

"Or what?" you challenge and he lets out a low chuckle before hooking his fingers in your shorts and pulling them down quickly, leaving you just in your panties, white with little pink flowers and he groans at the sight.

"So cute." he says and without warning his hand collides with your flesh as he gives your ass a hard smack.

"Ah! Felix!" you grip at the table, your eyes wide.

"Yeah, dove. Yeah. Say my name." he smacks you again and you wiggle, trying to move away.

"I warned you." he holds you down, pressed against the table. "Just be a good girl and take what I give you." he adds, landing another smack on your ass before his fingers slide on the wet patch on your panties.

"A-ah!" you whine as he plays with you.

"All this for me? I thought you hated me." he smirks.

"I- I do." you pant as he slides his fingers into your underwear, touching your wet lips and dipping his fingertips into your hole.

"She loves me though." Felix whispers as he leans over you, his fingers pressed into your clit.

"Oh-" you moan, jolting back into him.

"I bet she will love taking my cock even more." he adds and you whine, your brain turning into mush the more he teases you and talks to you like that.

"Mm." you hear him moan and look up at him just to see him licking at his fingers that were just on your pussy.

"F-Felix..." you moan, wanting him, needing him closer to you.

"Tell me what you want, dove." his hands slide on your thighs, ass and lower back and every touch feels like he's setting your skin on fire.

"B-bed." you whimper as he runs his fingers over your panties again.

"I thought you didn't want me on your bed."

The bastard.

"Please. Please." you beg, wiggling your ass and pushing it into his pelvis, trying to persuade him to stop teasing.

"If you insist." he smirks and picks you up so fast that you barely registered he got you in his arms as he laid you down on your soft blanket.

You turned to your plushies, feeling a bit weirded out as you reached out to move them.

"Let them watch." Felix chuckles with a smirk and you look at him, letting out a small giggle.

"Alright." you shrug and he wastes no time as he slides his tanktop off and you very obviously drool at the sight of his abs and nipples.

"See something you fancy?" he teases.

"Yes." you nod and he laughs.

"You're gonna love this even more." he says, taking his pants off and of course, he wasn't wearing any underwear, the fucking whore of a man.

His cock is hard and it springs out, smacking against his abs, all wet with pre cum and ready to be inside you.

"You're drooling, baby." Felix says, almost in a mocking tone.

"Am not." you quickly answer.

"Mhm." the shit eating grin is back as he puts his hands on your waist and slides your top up, taking it off.

"Wow." he stares at your breasts and you chuckle breathlessly.

"See something you fancy?" you tease him back and he throws his head back in a fit of laughter.

"Definitely." Felix bites his lower lip as his hands grab at your tits, massaging them and playing with your nipples, pinching them and pulling on them before he leans down and starts leaving kisses on your breasts.

You whine, needing more friction, your middle lifting up towards his, where his cock hangs delicious and heavy.

Felix smirks as he sucks on your nipple, swirling his tongue around the bud, his hands sliding your panties off as he throws them to the side.

The tip of his cock presses on your clit and both of you whine as he detaches from your nipple and looks down, taking his length in his hand and sliding it against your wet folds.

"Hey don't- not yet-" you shiver and he shushes you.

"Don't worry, I'll put on a condom." he reassures you before diving down to leave kisses on your hot skin.

He gets up suddenly, picking his pants off the floor and taking out a condom and you roll your eyes at him.

"What?" he rips open the packet as he looks at you.

"You came prepared." you say as he kneels between your legs.

"I'm always prepared." he smirks as he rolls the rubber on his cock.

Is it too late to back out now?, you think as his fingertips dance on your inner thighs before settling between your legs and playing with your folds.

You can't believe you're about to let Lee Felix fuck you.

You fell for it after all, you whine as he slowly pushes two of his fingers in, your pussy sucking them in like she was hungry for him.

"I don't think you even need to be prepped." he smirks, sliding his fingers in your warmth. "You're taking me so well already."

You can only moan at his words, arching into his hand.

He keeps smirking, fucking his fingers in and out of you as slow as humanly possible, driving you insane with frustration.

"Oh my god, Felix just fuck me!" you thrash against the soft blanket and he laughs, the jerk.

"Beg for it." he grins, sliding his fingers out and your pussy clenches around nothing.

"You're an asshole." you whimper and he raises his brow at you.

"Am I?" Uh oh. The look in his eyes becomes darker.

"Let me show you then. How much of an asshole I am." he mutters before gripping your body and swiftly turning you around, his hand on the back of your neck as he pushes your face into the pillow.

You gasp as he smacks your ass, your hands grabbing at the blanket.

He grips your hip and without warning pushes his length inside you making you moan loudly as he bottoms out.

The stretch is painful at first but your body is burning up for him and as he fits himself inside you, you clench around him, the pain turning into pleasure.

"See how she fucking loves me? She's trying to keep me in." he chuckles behind you and you whine, pushing back into him.

"Please, fuck me Felix."

He laughs as he gathers your hair in his hand, holding it in a makeshift ponytail.

"See, you can be so nice. You just need someone who knows how to put you in your place." he leans down to whisper in your ear, his lips brushing against your skin before he leans back.

Before you can even catch a breath, Felix pulls your head back harshly and sets a brutal pace, fucking into you fast, the sounds of skin slapping skin loud as he rattles your body with his.

"Yeah. Take it. That's it." he spanks you as he bullies his cock deep inside you, the tip kissing your cervix with every brutal thrust.

You can't even speak as you hold onto the pillow for dear life, a string of moans and curses spilling from your lips.

You're already close and you feel so embarassed because you've never been fucked so good that you're close to cumming in a mere minute.

Your legs shake as Felix continues his onslaught, both with his unforgiving hips and his hand smacking your ass, leaving red marks on your flesh, his other hand pulling your head so far back that you feel like you can't breathe properly.

"Cum for me, dove." he smirks as he feels you clenching hard around him.

"Y-yes, Felix, ah!" you manage to whimper as you explode all over his cock, coating him in your juices.

"That's what I like to see. Good girl." he continues fucking you and tears gather in your eyes as waves of pleasure keep running through your body.

"No one ever fucked you right, hm?" he snickers at the state of you. "Don't worry dove. I'll make sure you can never cum from any other dick except mine." he adds and fucks you even harder, which you thought was impossible but he manages to knock all the breath you had in your lungs and make you cum once again.

"Shit!" his hips stutter and he pulls out quickly.

"Come here." he almost growls as he rips off the condom.

You turn around on all fours, dizzy and ears ringing, your body still shaking as your pussy leaks.

"Open your mouth." he orders and you stupidly obey, too fucked out to protest.

Felix shoves his cock into your mouth, making you gag as you choke on his length.

"You're gonna take it all." he fucks into you a few times before he explodes, pushing deep into you and making you swallow everything.

"Shit." he whines as he pulls out and you cough a little.

"Are you okay?" Felix asks as you sit up, his hand reaching out to touch your cheek and you look at him like he has three heads.

"Why do you care? I know I'm just a number on your list now so you can drop the act and leave." your eyes water for some reason and Felix frowns.

"Why don't you first tell me what you heard about me, dove?" he comes closer to you even though you try to push him away.

"That you slept with half the campus and ghosted every girl you fucked." you say bitterly and he has the audacity to laugh.

"What's funny?" you spit, anger bubbling up inside you.

"You really believe everything you hear? It's just a story, y/n. I did not in fact fuck half the campus." Felix continues giggling. "I'm kinda flattered people think I can pull that many girls, though." he adds, shaking his head.

"Oh." you're flabbergasted for a moment.

"I only have eyes for one girl." he says, his hand caressing your cheek and you cough, choking on your spit.

"W-what?" you ask, still not processing what he's telling you.

"It's you, dove. Why did you think I flirted with you?"

"I thought you did that with everyone."

"Oh, you are so wrong and I'm gonna prove it to you. Starting with a date tomorrow?" Felix says and you're still sitting in disbelief.

"Don't look so shocked." he chuckles and leans in, kissing you gently, his arms wrapping around you as he lays you down again.

"Are you serious?" you ask.

"Dead serious." he presses his lips on your cheek.

"Alright. We can go on a date. You're still insufferable, though." you smirk at him and Felix laughs, his sincere laughter making you giggle too.

As he cuddled up against you, your bed a mess after your fun activities, half of your plushies forgotten on the floor, you're glad you had to ask him to help you.

"I think your Windows finished installing."

✨Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny @jeonginslefthand @porangporangmeong @laughatdanger @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @starlost-mochi-x @saintcosette @ooshyana

@lixies-favorite-cookie not me hearing your thoughts about fuckboy lix🤭

[noxturnals-void]

Slashers with an s/o that has scars

Characters include:

Jason Voorhees, Thomas Hewitt, Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, Michael Myers, Jesse Cromeans, Asa Emory

———————————————————————————

Tw: scars, mentions of abuse, mentions of self-harm, toxic relationships, mentions of death/murder, characters being their questionable selves

(The scars are a mix of self-harm and abuse)

This is just a big mix of comfort imagines.

Feel free to add your own thoughts/ideas.

———————————————————————————

Jason Voorhees:

He’s confused when he first sees the marks on your arms and legs. Were you in an accident of some kind? You’d never mentioned anything of the sort before.

He won’t bring it up until he sees more across your shoulders and back.

It takes a long, very awkward conversation on your part to explain when he expresses worry toward the marks on your body.

He understands what abuse is, but mainly in the form of bullying. Having to explain abuse at the hands of people you trusted was much different in his mind.

He’s absolutely heartbroken. How could anyone have hurt you like this?

He will bury the anger he has toward the people who hurt you, very gently pulling you into a hug and squeezing you to his chest.

That’s all in the past now. He’s here. He would never, ever let anything like that happen to you again.

Thomas Hewitt:

Oh, he knows.

He could tell the moment he laid eyes on you that you were just like him. Hiding your arms away and recoiling from anyone who got too close.

He tries not to make a big deal of it. They look old, so he won’t mention it.

That is, until he catches you changing one day. He sees the collection of deep marks across your back. He’s not stupid, he knows you didn’t do those yourself.

This time, he does bring it up. He’s not judgemental. He understands, probably better than anyone in his family.

When you feel comfortable, you share what happened to you.

He doesn’t push for details. He has enough imagination and his own experiences to supplement any information you decide to give.

He just pats you on the head, grunting low. His way of telling you it’s okay. You’re safe from those people.

You’re part of his family now, after all. He will protect you.

Bo Sinclair:

It doesn’t take long for him to notice.

Unlike him, you don’t hide your scars very well.

Maybe it’s because you don’t mind that he sees. Perhaps it’s because you sometimes forget they are part of you. He doesn’t know.

He asks about the scars the next time you two are alone. It catches you so far off guard you freeze.

You explain, trying not to go into too much detail. Someone you trusted hurt you in an unrepairable way. That was something he could understand.

He gets upset on your behalf, something in your story triggering a part of him he thought he’d buried deep down enough not to deal with anymore.

He doesn’t get sappy about his own scars, but he’ll show them to you in an effort to sympathize.

You’re not alone in your feelings. He reassures you that everything will be alright and that it wasn’t your fault. He’ll watch out for you now.

Vincent Sinclair:

He first saw the scars when you posed for him for a quick sketch.

He was tactful, pointing out the marks in a subtle way. When you don’t quite understand what he’s getting at (thinking you might be posing wrong or something), he walks over and uses his wax-coated hands to investigate your skin.

Was it some type of accident? Had someone done this to you? His blood boiled at even the thought of someone hurting you. 

When you opened up about the backstory to your scars, he withheld his emotions from your eyes. He was angry, of course. He wanted to hurt the people who had hurt you.

He holds you in his lap as he continues with his sketch. He doesn’t truly need you to pose for him. Your shape is already burned into the depths of his memory.

He gently massages his hand over the scars on your arms and legs while his other hand sketches.

It’s the closest he can get to telling you how perfect you are. You’re his muse. His heart.

He will never let you feel unprotected. He’ll keep you safe.

Lester Sinclair:

Poor guy is so awkward about bringing it up.

He noticed the marks littering your body some time ago but never dared to ask.

He was already pretty sure of the answer, but he preferred to hear your side of the story before making any assumptions.

Your story breaks his heart little by little. He cries for you, grieved you had gone through what you had.

He holds you, telling you you’re perfect and didn’t deserve what had happened to you. He’s so sorry you went through it.

He’ll whisper affirmations to you for as long as you let him. He is here for you now. You are not alone anymore. It is all in the past.

He’s got you, and he’s never gonna let you go.

Michael Myers:

He likely won’t point them out.

He knows, of course. You’ve changed clothes in front of him on more than one occasion.

Sometimes, if he’s got the mask off, you might catch him staring. Otherwise, you can feel his eyes trace the pattern of marks over your body.

When you talk about it, he listens. He might not sympathize or react emotionally like others do to your story, but he does listen. He does care.

No one but him is allowed to hurt you. The rage of someone else laying their hands on you has him itching for his knife.

Someone you trusted hurt you? What’s their name?You mention a location they frequented in the past. Got it.

He’ll hunt them down within the week.

You won’t question the blood on him when he comes home late a few days later.

He holds you close that night, not allowing you to move from his side until dawn.

You’ll understand his unusually clingy behavior when you hear about a recent murder on the news.

You’re his. They can’t hurt you anymore.

Jesse Cromeans:

He sees the marks across your arms one evening.

His phone drones a partially insensitive joke about the scars, but he sees the way you react to them being mentioned and leaves it be.

He doesn’t talk about them again until you’re ready.

He has a big ego on him, but that doesn’t mean he will force it out of you.

When you do tell him what happened to you, he’s furious. Someone hurt his favorite little piggy?

He’s going to hunt them down. Spann is already in the process of finding their address.

They won’t get a video, though. This isn’t a film; this is revenge.

When everything is said and done, he’s going on a shopping spree. A big bouquet of your favorite flowers, all your favorite treats, and your favorite series/movie in the disc player ready for a long night in.

You’re blissfully unaware of what has happened to cause this treatment, and he will keep it that way.

From then on, he reminds you that your scars do not change how he feels about you. You’re perfect. He made sure they won’t ever harm you again.

Asa Emory:

He’s scarily observant. It didn’t take him long at all to find out.

He asks directly, lacking a certain amount of tact someone else might deploy for this kind of conversation. He’s not one for beating around the bush verbally.

He’s surprisingly understanding when you tell him about your past abuse. He experienced similar things in his youth. He won’t share, of course.

He doesn’t use your scars against you like he would if it were something else deeply personal.

Usually, he’d discover a pressure point such as this and use it to manipulate you subtly. This is not a pressure point he will use often, if at all.

You’re his now. You belong to him in every sense of the word. Whatever scars you gain now will be from him and only him, and only when they’re done intentionally.

You’re his favorite pet in the collection. The marks across your body don’t detract from your value in his eyes.

He will create masterful works of art out of your past, enmeshing it with your future with him.

[marvelouslizzie]

You're Stuck with Me - Co-written with @notafunkiller

Summary: When you find out your boyfriend's cheating on you with his best friend, you immediately tell Bucky Barnes about the affair and propose revenge sex.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 6.9K

Warnings: 18+ smut, cheating, revenge fuck, language, oral sex (female receiving), protected and unprotected sex, praise and degradation mix, pet names, teasing, no mention of y/n

A/n: We are getting a little out of our comfort zone with this story. I hope you will enjoy it.

Please give my lovely co-writer @notafunkiller a follow. She's an amazing writer. You should definitely check her Bucky Barnes stories.

All work is ours, please do not repost or translate without our permission.

Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message us. Unless it’s hate. That’s never welcome.

"Are you sure?" Bucky asks, finishing your bottle of sparkling water. "I don't want you to cry and regret it after."

“Don’t worry, I won’t.” You sound so confident that even you are surprised. “It’s just sex.”

"Just sex." He repeats with his eyebrows raised. "You never seemed to me like the type of girl who would go for just sex, doll."

“Maybe you should’ve paid a little more attention. You would’ve realized you might have the wrong kind of impression.”

"Oh, really?" He leans in amused. "Big words."

“They're not. You just aren’t used to talking to me.”

"You're telling me you're not a commitment girl?" He presses the matter, not believing you even a little. You two might not be friends, but he figured out what type of person you are.

“I’m just saying I won’t regret having sex with you. The rest is your assumption.”

His gaze immediately drops to your chest. "You trust my skills that much?"

You roll your eyes. “Do you have to be this arrogant all the time?”

"Do you have to be a brat all the time?" He doesn't wait for your response, though, as he continues. "Oh wait, you can't help it. Totally in your nature."

“So women who don't stroke your ego are brats? Maybe I just don’t care that much about you. Did you consider that?” There’s a hint of anger in your voice but nothing more. He always manages to challenge you and push your buttons. “Maybe you aren’t the only one who didn’t like those double dates. Get off your high horse.” You add without missing a beat. You realized how bored and uninterested he was then. No matter what topic you were bringing up, he wasn’t open. That’s one of the reasons why you believe he thinks he’s better than anyone.

"Fuck." He shakes his head. "You and that mouth of yours. Do you see me going around and calling women brats?” He doesn’t wait for you to answer. “Those dates were absolutely horrible. Your little boy toy is the biggest loser I've ever met."

“You seem like a guy who would do that. You are not? Ops, wrong assumption I guess.” You make a fake I am sorry face. “He’s not my boy toy but I agree, he’s a big loser.”

He smiles when you finish your sentence, so satisfied. "Why do you enjoy pushing me so much? Does it turn you on?"

“How am I pushing you? Do you think this is pushing?” You don’t budge.

"What is it then?"

“I know you don’t like me and I am just giving you back that same energy.” You tell him the truth. That’s what you always do: you give the same energy people give you. If they are kind, you are kinder. If they are assholes, you are a bigger asshole.

Bucky snorts, running a hand through his hair. "Where was this attitude hidden around him?"

You breathe out loudly, not hiding how bored you are. “Are we gonna talk all night or are we gonna do this?”

He smiles in a way you never saw him smile before he leans in even more, invading your space. "It's been that long, huh?"

You make a face. “You can’t tell me sex with her was great. I saw their little sex tapes.” You can’t deny what he’s just said, but you can deflect.

He gives you the most surprised face. "What?"

“You heard me. If it had been a while for me, then it must have been even longer for you.”

"Indeed." His voice doesn't betray any emotion.

“Then stop belittling me. We both have been having bad sex and we both got cheated on. You aren’t better than me.”

"When did I say that, woman?"

“You always act like you are better than everyone.”

"That's just your assumption." He paraphrases you with the biggest smile on his face

“Prove me wrong then.”

And he does, looking at you for a couple of seconds. When you don't move, he finally grabs you by your chin and kisses you. He's not hesitant or testing, he's literally trying to claim your mouth as he wants to deepen the kiss by licking your bottom lip. When you finally give him access, his hand goes to the back of your neck, the contrast between his soft touch and his passionate way of kissing making you moan.

"Your mouth…"

“What about it?” You ask while still looking at his lips.

He kisses you again, like he's starved, his hand pulling your hair a little more. He tastes like some fresh toothpaste and a little chocolate.

"So sweet, yet so bratty."

“Do you have a thing for brats for something?” You pull him by his collar and kiss him again. He might be an asshole, but he knows how to kiss.

"Maybe just for a special brat."

“What does that mean?” You stop and look into his eyes.

He lets go of your hair and lowers his hands to your waist. "Tell me to stop and I will. Tap me anywhere if you can't talk and I'll stop. Get it?"

“Yeah. Same goes for you. Any lines you don’t wanna cross?”

"Just don't call me by someone else's name." He sighs.

“Fine by me. Don’t use any pet names you used for your ex.”

"I wouldn’t dream of it. What else?" He smirks.

“No degrading.”

"So no my little whore?”

“That doesn’t sound like degrading to me but another rule: Don’t say things you don’t mean. I don’t like that heat-of-the-moment bullshit.”

He seems to like your rules. "God, how did you date that asshole for 5 months?"

“I was just giving that so-called nice guy a chance and it got me here. How did you date that bitch for 8 months?”

"Woah. Bitch? Never heard you referring to a woman like this."

“I never liked her.” You shrug. And she cheated on him. So why not?

"Why?"

“I don’t know. I always thought she was full of herself. Always looking down at people.”

"Like me." He stares at you. "I understand."

“Not like that. She always talks badly about people. Most of the time, behind their backs. She always looks for a way to steal the spotlight. I actually wondered what you saw in her.”

"I won't talk about a woman badly, especially my ex, but I guess we just want to give people a chance."

“That woman cheated on you. With someone she called her best friend after you two decided to move in together. Maybe longer. But sure, make me feel bad about calling her a bitch.”

Bucky seems to think about it for a few seconds. You appreciate his non-talking shit about my ex policy, but in this case? Not deserved. They cheated on you for months. They could have chosen to break up, but they didn't want that. They pretended they are just friends, proposed double dates, lied and hid, and made promises. Your relationships weren't working perfectly well, your sex lives seem very shitty and probably there were signs about this affair, but you cannot blame yourself or Bucky for not seeing them. You deserved the truth. You just can't believe you two are actually in this situation. Giving the wrong people a chance… never again for sure.

"You're right. This is such a fucking shitty thing. I mean, at least fucking break up with me. God, we kissed them, fucked them after they were with each other." He makes a disgusted face.

“So we practically fucked each other already, you know?” You make a joke, trying to change the mood a little. It really is fucked up.

"They didn't see us having sex though." He shakes his head. "They managed to make the lamest sex tapes in history."

“Yeah, I am still traumatized by her fake moans.”

"Fake?" He snorts.

“Yeah, I know how sex is with him. No way those moans are real.”

"Maybe they are. Maybe she enjoys it. She likes him so much they decided this fucking shitty sex is worth it." He leans in and kisses you again suddenly and you don't understand if he's angry because he regrets being with her and getting cheated on or he regrets being betrayed because he wants her so much. You know they fought a lot from your soon-to-be ex, but 8 months are something after all.

You kiss him back nonetheless, enjoying the way his lips and tongue feel. You don't remember the last time you've been kissed this good. If you've ever been with someone like this… he's basically eating you with his mouth.

“It won’t take long for her to regret it. Talking from experience,” you say while kissing him back. You wanna know if he wants her back or not. Not that it matters. You are just curious. Maybe he wants to make her jealous.

"What she wants doesn't matter anymore, doll." He strokes your hair when he stops kissing you so you can take a deep breath. "You called me arrogant, right?"

“Yeah?” You answer hesitantly.

"Do arrogant people ever let themselves be humiliated?" He pauses. "I don't want something like this. Someone like this. I have absolutely no desire to keep a person who does this. I am a patient person, I try to work things out, but this? Never in a fucking million years. Nothing about this relationship was right, I suppose. What about you?"

“I don’t care about him anymore.” Your response comes immediately. You were completely done with him the moment you found out about their affair. There’s no turning back. It was like a switch. That’s why you are here with Bucky. “I tried so hard to make it work, thinking relationships are hard and we gotta put some effort to make it work. All bullshit. I’m done with him. I’m done with lowering my standards. Done with 5-minute sex, and ‘you turn me on so much, I can’t help it’ excuses. There’s no going back for me.”

You see his little smirk and can't help but touch his face. He is really one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen.

"I never liked him, and you know it. That small dick energy is unbearable. I think he'd have a heart attack if he even heard us. Can you imagine?"

“I… actually can.” You can envision how that would hurt him and his insufferable ego. “God, she would hate me so much.” You smile.

"Oh, she would. She's always been jealous of you anyway."

“And he hates that you don’t even have to be nice to make people like you. Now he would have an extra reason.”

"Fuck, doll." You feel his thumb on your neck and you shiver. "I'm gonna sound crazy, but wouldn't make you feel satisfied if indeed they heard us?"

You blink, trying to understand his offer. That actually would actually give you pleasure… knowing that he suffers just like you did. You also notice the pet name he uses. You never heard him use it with his (ex) girlfriend, so he’s keeping his promise. “I’d… really like that.”

"Yeah?" He leaves a kiss on the corner of your mouth. "A voice message?"

“Sounds better than actually calling.” You turn your face a little and kiss him on the lips.

"Look at you, you ignored me for months." He bites your bottom lip lightly.

“It wasn’t like you were friendly.”

Does he even hear you?

He takes you in his arms. "Bedroom?"

“Bedroom.” You wrap your legs around his torso in agreement as he leads the way.

"Left?"

“Yeah, hurry up.”

He opens the door with his elbow, then doesn't bother to close it as he lets you down. His hands find your blouse and you hear the ripping sound before you can raise your arms.

You’re surprised but not bothered. Truth be told, you find that very hot. But you still unclip your bra.

“Fucking hell.” He manages to whisper before he leans in and grabs your breasts, his tongue licking all the way down from your neck to your nipple.

You tug on his T-shirt and try to take it off while he’s busy exploring your body.

"You hid these from me."

“Not specifically from you. Move your hands up so I can take this off.”

"From who then?" He frowns and lets go for a second so you can take it off.

“From everyone, of course.”

"God, I wanna come all over them. So pretty.”

“Maybe you should make a mental list. Come on her tits. Come inside her mouth. Come inside her pussy.”

His eyes glow, and you giggle. "Who said I didn't?"

“You did?” You sound impressed. “Wanna share?”

"Wanna share my come? Sure." His fingers find your zipper and you gasp when he takes your pants off from one try.

“Oh, you are filthier than I thought.” You say to cover your surprise.

"You thought about how filthy I am?"

“You think I didn’t consider how this would be before offering a revenge fuck?”

"When?" He takes ahold of your underwear, and you're unsure if he wants to rip it off or simply take it off.

“I just told you.”

"I thought…" He blushes, realizing he misunderstood. It's an asshole move to assume that while you were with that prick, the thought of him like this has even passed your mind. "Forget it."

“No, no, tell me.” You pull him closer by his belt. “Let’s get rid of these.”

"Did you ever think about me before today?" He helps you take off his pants while finally getting rid of your panties.

“What if I did? Does it make me a terrible person?”

"Terrible." He nods, letting the pieces of your underwear drop on the floor along with his boxers and pants before he steps out of them. "So terrible." He kisses you, his hands on your hips, bringing you closer to his cock. You didn't even have proper time to look at him. "The worst."

“I knew it.” You play along. “What about you?”

"I thought about this mouth a lot."

“Just my mouth?” You nudge him by moving your hips up.

"Thought about fucking you in the bathroom."

“When?” Did he really want to fuck you before? He never looked at you twice or at least that’s what you thought.

"A few weeks ago… we… the office. You were with your little group. They were smoking and you wore that fucking lipstick that just blew my mind away. I didn't intend to. You didn't even notice me." He kisses you again but doesn't deepen it.

Everything he said takes you by surprise. You didn’t think that he ever paid attention to you, let alone notice your lipstick and get turned on by it.

“I noticed you, but I thought you were bored. You had a grumpy look on your face most of the time. I liked your blue shirt, though. It makes your eyes pop.”

He moans. Is it so easy to make him moan? you wonder.

"I'm always grumpy and arrogant, of course."

“You don’t seem that grumpy and arrogant right now.” You gently bite his neck and then soothe the spot with your tongue.

"Fucking hell, woman." You feel him grabbing your ass. "Tell me you have a condom."

“In that drawer.” You point to it casually. “But just so you know, I’m on the pills.”

He nods, contemplating for a little while before helping you get on bed and taking a condom from your nightstand.

You don’t question why he chooses to reach for it, yet you can’t help but wonder how it would be like to feel him without any barrier. Your mouth waters at the sight of his naked body.

Maybe, maybe you should let him fuck your mouth, too. Why not?

He quickly puts the condom on and before he can climb on bed, he looks at you. "What you said earlier about the voice message, do you still stand by it?"

You realize you actually forgot about them or why you are doing this for a second. “Yeah. I want them to suffer.”

"Good." He takes his pants from the floor and finds his phone quickly. You didn't even realize he had it when you undressed him.

“So what are we doing exactly? Recording a small part and sending it?”

"Ihm." He nods. "Want that asshole to hear what your real moans sound like." He finally sits on the bed and you spread your legs further apart.

“Only my moans?” You ask while he positions himself.

"No video," he says immediately, and you giggle. That wasn’t your question, but it’s okay. You wonder if he’s being possessive with you already or it's something else.

“I meant what about your moans.”

He smiles. "Yeah, of course, but I'm not a loud person." He drops the phone close to your shoulder. "You, on the other hand… I bet you're a fucking screamer."

“I guess we'll find out. Is it recording already?”

"No, uhm, can you… The code is 0478."

“Let’s start and then we can record when it gets really loud.” You try to sound normal, but you are surprised he's just told you his passcode.

"You sure? We can trim it. I don't want to interrupt you."

"Don't worry. I'm good at multitasking." You give him a smile. "But if you wanna record the whole thing, so you can get off to it later, just say that." You can’t help but tease him a little.

"No, no, it's alright. I just want you to feel good, okay?" He smiles, his hands making their way to your thighs.

"Oh, I will. Don't worry about that." You pull him closer by wrapping your legs around his body. As he pushes inside, you start to forget what you were talking about before.

"Oh, fuck me." He groans when he sees the shape of your mouth. Such a perfect O. You feel so good and he's not even halfway inside you. "You're so wet."

"I can do that." You cheekily respond. "But we would need to change the position." You ignore his second comment.

He kisses you as if he needs to taste you again to be able to breathe, his tongue quickly finding yours once you open your mouth. Your hand gets into his hair at the same time he properly gets inside you.

You moan at the fullness. You haven't felt this stretched for so long, but it doesn't hurt. It just makes you crave more.

"Such a brat when you only needed a good cock." You know he's intentionally teasing you, so you try to find a good response.

"We'll see how good it is."

"Brat." He repeats again and moves his hands to your breast. His thrusts are not constant as he tries to test what you like.

"Put your mouth on them already." You know he wants to. He has been looking at them since he stepped inside your apartment. And you want him to do it, too. The thought itself makes you moan.

"Are you ordering me?"

"Depends. Yes, if you like that. No, if you don't."

He takes a handful of your breast in his mouth in response, not only your nipple, his thrusts getting slower, but a little deeper at the same time. The sound of his tongue licking on your skin makes you close your eyes.

The way he sucks your nipple makes you think he likes taking orders. What a great turn of events, you think.

He switches to the other one quickly, giving it the same treatment, while keeping the pace.

"Do you like it?"

“Yeah, yeah.” You quickly respond. “I love it.”

"Faster?"

“Yep, faster.” You gently push his head onto your breast again, loving the double stimulation.

He moans excitedly as he resumes licking and playing with your breasts, carefully trying to leave a hickey around your nipple. "These are mine now."

He doesn’t mean that, does he? Must be the heat of the moment, but you agreed on not doing that. So you decide to remind him. “Don’t say things you don’t actually mean, remember?”

"I didn't forget, brat. Did you?"

He bites on your nipple, gently, but you still feel it.

“So you actually mean that?” You really want to know, so you ignore the fact that he called you a brat again.

"Mean what?" He leaves a kiss on your nipple to soothe any possible pain. "That these are mine?"

“Yeah.” You sound impatient. Why is he acting clueless now?

"They are, they belong to me. So does your bratty mouth." He kisses you shortly.

You can’t deny how his words turn you on even more.

"I imagined fucking you in a bathroom that day at the office." He groans. "So terrible of me, right? Imagining you with come dripping out of you, down to your thighs as you go back to work. Months of petty silence solved."

“If I'd known my silence bothered you that much, I would have been even more silent until it drove you crazy enough to do something about it.” You move your hips up to match his rhythm. “I just thought you just preferred not speaking to me because you didn’t like me.”

"I would have screwed everything up and fucked you, you understand?" He looks you in the eye, making it clear he is honest. "I would have become a horrible person, but not even that thought would have made me reconsider."

“Yet you didn’t do anything, did you? You never acted on it. You were just a grumpy man with terrible thoughts.” You just want him to know he’s not a horrible person, yet you can’t help but tease him a little at the same time.

"And you just needed the cock of that grumpy man with terrible thoughts, huh?" His thrusts are so much faster now. You wonder: how the fuck does he expect you to answer?

All you can do is whine and moan because somehow he manages to hit all the right places.

"My little cock whore." He groans. "Mine, okay? Just like I am yours."

“Jesus fucking Christ.” You can’t help but react. You find it so hot you can barely stay still. The way he talks during sex… They would really die if they heard you two. That makes you remember… You were supposed to hit the record button.

"Just Bucky. Or James."

“Where the fuck is your phone, Bucky?” You ask while trying to find it without actually looking.

He's confused for a split second, but then he remembers what you agreed on. "To your right."

You finally find the phone and unlock it quickly before dropping it without any care as soon as it starts to record.

"Oh, doll, you're too wet for me. So good." The sound of your skin slapping and the whimpers are so loud. You can’t contain yourself even if you try.

“Faster, please,” you say without thinking. It feels like you are already close. You don’t care if you have to beg for it.

"So greedy." He cries out when he feels your hands on his ass, pulling him deeper inside you.

“Fuckk. That feels good!” You moan loudly and arch your back.

"Holy shit."

He suddenly stops, making you open your eyes and giving him an accusatory look, but then you notice the phone in his hands. Oh, you forgot about it for a second and you have no idea why.

"Are you sending it?"

"Ihm." He doesn't just lock his phone after he is done. He freaking turns it off, surprising you. “I don’t want any interruptions. Want to fuck you in peace.”

You just pull him into another kiss, more passionate this time. You feel his right hand on your tummy, tickling you a little, before stopping down, above your clit.

“You close?” You ask him to make sure because you surely are.

"I'm trying not to come," he says honestly.

“Oh, you can. I’m close, too. I just need it a little faster.” His hand on your clit already makes you realize it won’t take much for you to fall apart.

He pulls back, taking his cock almost completely out, and the emptiness makes you whine. Then he thrusts with full force, making you moan so loudly that you can’t recognize your own voice.

"Fuck, look at you. And those sounds…" He brings his thumb to your lips. "Come on, be a good girl and show me how your pretty little mouth would take my cock. The one that's inside your pussy right now, ready to come for you."

“Such a filthy mouth.” You say while moaning. “Come with me so I can take that cock inside my mouth and show you what it can do.”

"God, come, baby. Please come." He is begging you at this point. His voice is so desperate and soft.

His neediness, the way he says those words finally pushes you off the edge.

“Oh god.” You try to breathe as the orgasm takes over your body, making you shake. Your mouth opens, letting out the most unfiltered moan you've ever heard from yourself. It is pure pleasure with no thoughts, no worries. Your heart and your head are on fire, begging for more. You want this feeling to last as long as possible.

He comes shortly after you, but you don't realize it until you hear his loud groan vibrating against your chest. His hips and ass cheeks are trembling under your touch as he seems lost in his world for a few seconds. You run your fingers through his hair, waiting for him to come down from his high.

“Oh god, baby." You feel his breath on your wet skin and you sigh. "Can I live here forever?"

“That good?” You can’t help but ask. He can feel your smile without looking at you.

He looks up. "Ihm. What about you?"

“Wanna get your ego stroked?” You ask genuinely. “Promise that you’re not gonna use it against me.”

He kisses your throat. "I don't make such promises, woman."

“Then you won’t get to hear it.” You expose your throat more while talking.

"What if I eat the truth out of you?"

“Eat the truth out of me?”

"Ihm. You know… when you're under sex spell, you become truthful."

“You are welcome to try.” There’s no way you are gonna turn down another orgasm like this one.

"Perfect." He leaves another kiss on the valley between your breasts and sighs. "Have to take this off first," he says, taking his cock out with a small hiss before standing up near the bed, watching you. "Where can I throw this away?"

“There’s a trashcan in the bathroom.” You point at it while getting more comfortable on the bed.

"Be right back."

You feel something cold on your back and realize it’s his phone. You put it on the nightstand, thinking about how he turned his phone off in the middle of the sex. You make a mental note to ask him to send you that voice message later, so you can remember how good the sex felt.

He comes back with your small semi-wet towel and watches you carefully. "Look, I meant what I said about eating the truth out of you, but only if you are okay with it. I won't ask again. I could always just leave, you know? No big deal." But you can see in his face it would be a big deal. Maybe he likes your company. The sex is amazing.

“Do you wanna leave, Bucky?” You already know his answer.

"No, I don't."

“Then come here and do whatever you wanna do.”

He doesn't need to be told twice. You watch him drop to his knees and, at the same time, drag you closer to the edge of the bed as quickly as he can. You let out a surprised gasp, but it turns into a whole moan when he lifts your legs on his shoulders and starts licking you from your entrance to your clit.

“Fuck, you weren’t joking.”

He acknowledges your words by playing with his tongue around your clit. You move your hips slowly, up and down, just to create a little more friction. Your greed grows while you watch him eagerly lick every bit of your pussy.

You don't expect to feel his fingers at your entrance all of the sudden as you're focused on his tongue. And you especially don't expect him to curl two of his fingers and get them inside you at once. No warnings.

“Oh fuck, yes!” You find yourself grabbing his hair, just needing something to hold on to.

And he moans, buckling his hips in the air at the slight pain. The pace of his fingers matches his tongue, but it's not enough.

“Add the third finger.” You sound desperately close.

He is surprised, you can sense it, but he quickly does what you say, his tongue eagerly toying with your clit faster than before.

“I’m so close!” You warn.

He stops licking for a little and you try to move your hips to meet his mouth. What the fuck is he doing? No time for edging.

"What were you gonna say, doll? What did you think it would stroke my ego?"

“What?” You raise on your elbows, looking like a mess. “Really?”

"If you want my tongue, you give me an answer."

“You are unbelievable!” You sound so betrayed.

"I warned you not to cry, doll."

You really want to keep that thought to yourself, but the ache between your legs doesn’t care about your pride. “I can’t believe you are doing this right now.”

He gives you a small smile, and you see him leaning in again. You think you won, getting more comfortable, ready to come soon, but he only licks you twice, teasingly, and lets your clit go.

"Do what?"

You whine loudly. The feeling of his tongue lingers on your clit. “You wanna play dirty?” Maybe you can’t win this fight, but it doesn’t mean you can’t win others. “Fine.” You sit up a little, looking into his eyes. “It was the best orgasm I’ve ever had. Happy now?”

"Delighted. Now was it so hard? You get a reward for being my good and honest girl."

“Yeah, whatever.” You roll your eyes.

"Fucking brat," you hear him whisper right before his tongue finds your clit again, finally licking it in circles properly. He starts to move his fingers, too, and even though they are obviously not even close to the thickness of his cock, they feel incredible.

But you are too annoyed now, at the same time. A part of you just wants to hold back and not give him the pleasure of hearing you come. So he tries harder. You hear him whimpering as he takes your clit into his mouth, sucking on it. And you swallow a moan while your legs are trembling.

"Come on, baby." His fingers move faster, too. "Let it go."

Your whole body starts to shake uncontrollably, but you keep your moans to yourself, pressing your lips together tightly just out of spite. You can see he hates it, but he doesn't stop until you finish coming. And it feels amazing, but you are sure it would have been even better if you had let yourself enjoy it freely.

He sighs into your clit and leaves a kiss there before he stands up. "You're mad."

“No shit, Sherlock.”

"Ah, doll. Nothing can tame that mouth."

“More like actions and consequences. I wasn’t ready to share that, but you forced me to say it for an orgasm, so that’s what you get. An orgasm. Nothing more, nothing less.”

"Forced?" His face shows concern as he sits next to you. "That wasn’t my intention. The last thing I want is to make you feel trapped.” He seems like he’s confused. He looks around and meets your gaze again. “Do you want me to leave?"

“If you wanna leave, just leave, but if that wasn’t really your intention, you can start with apologizing.”

"I am sorry," he immediately says, taking your hands into his. "I was just trying to… be silly I guess."

“You wanted your ego stroked, I get it. We both need it after what happened, but… I don’t know. I just felt exposed.”

"I'm sorry." He kisses your cheek. "I might be a grumpy arrogant son of a bitch, but forcing…"

You start to tear up, hearing him say sorry this quickly. Fucking relationship trauma.

"Oh god, baby, I am sorry, I didn't…" he tries to wipe your tears with his thumbs. "I'm a jackass, but I swear I wasn't trying to force you. I thought it was just a game. My bad."

“No, no. This is on me. Sorry.” You try to take a deep breath. “He just never said sorry no matter how hurt I was. He always had an excuse. This is just… trauma I guess.”

"What a fucking douchebag. I can fuck him up really good, you know?" He suggests. "Just say the words."

“He’s probably already fucked up by the fact that we are fucking.” That thought cheers you up a little.

"His face deserves it, too." Bucky puffs and kisses your wet cheeks. "To be honest, this whole should I leave question comes from my relationship trauma, too. So you’re not alone. She either wanted me to leave or she left every fucking time we disagreed on something. She once threw my shoes out of the window just so I'd go. I don't know why we kept trying…"

“Oh.” You finally understand why he keeps offering to leave. It isn't about you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I thought you were just trying to get out when things get hard.”

"Don't be sorry. I prefer to talk on the spot, to be honest. Letting everything out is healthier. Don't "

“Or take a break whenever it’s needed. Doesn’t mean you have to leave though.”

"Yeah! Exactly."

You laugh a little. You never realized how similar you two are. Today is changing your perspective completely. “Your apology is accepted by the way, but under one condition.”

"What is that?'

“Tell me something about yourself that you don’t want me to know.”

He thinks for a second. "My breath smells like death in the morning. I can make your plants die if you let me."

You shake your head, amused. “That’s not good enough. Everyone’s breath smells bad in the morning.”

"What do you wanna know then?"

“Something on the same level of having your best orgasm.”

"I think you broke me."

“What?”

"You broke me." He repeats as if that is an explanation.

“In what way?”

He kisses you just as desperately as he did in the kitchen, as if this is the first time he kisses you and he can't ever get enough. "I want you for more than one time, do you understand?"

“Oh. Well… That can be arranged.”

"Yeah?" He drags you by your hips, placing you on top of his thighs.

“I would actually like that.”

He kisses you some more, letting his hands wander all over your body, stopping especially on your neck and breasts.

"You like it rough, don't you? Not complaining about me ripping your clothes off, loving the bites." He pulls your hair, just to prove his point in case you deny. You moan.

“Yeah, apparently you like it rough, too.” You don’t deny. Why would you?

"Of course I do, brat." He then turns you around suddenly. "All fours, please."

“Since you asked so nicely,” You stop for the dramatic effect and say as sarcastically as possible: “Boss.”

"Wanna make me your boss?"

“You are already acting like one.” You stand on all fours, pushing your ass back while lowering your head.

"Fuck! You're such a sight, you know?" Bucky's eyes don't leave your body.

“Am I?”

"I wanna look at you like this all day long."

You look at him amused. “I’m afraid I don’t have that much patience.”

You notice him shaking his head. "Of course."

“It’s rude to make me wait like this, you know?”

"Sorry, just wanted to remember this." Bucky feels a little bad for the thoughts he has. He mentally took a picture of you cause he can't ask this from you, right? You're not a couple, and even if you were, it doesn't mean exchanging or keeping photos like this would be okay.

His hips touch your ass as he positions himself at your entrance. "Any limits that come to your mind? I won't ask again."

“We already decided on the rules. I don’t think there’s anything besides them.”

"I'm not gonna hold back this time." Not completely… he grabs a handful of your hair as he thrusts inside you. "I'm gonna pound the fuck out of you and you're gonna take it like a good little girl, understand?"

“I understand. You won’t stop until I say stop.”

"Jesus Christ." He moans halfway inside you at the feel of your extra wet pussy. He feels out of breath just by standing still. "How…"

“Oh, fuck.” You nearly choke. It feels unbelievably good. This position is doing wonders.

"I didn't think-" he says, but at the same time doesn't move an inch. "Fuck, it feels too good, this pussy is driving me crazy. You are driving me crazy." He grips your hair harder without warning and starts to thrusts properly inside you, making sure to squeeze your left breast with his free. The sounds of your wet skin slapping make him curse under his breath.

“You didn’t think what?” You sound out of breath already.

"I cannot fuck you with condoms again." Technically he can, but he doesn’t want to.

You smile widely. “Why is that?”

"Because I am completely fucked."

“You like it that much?”

"Like it?" He puffs, unamused, and starts to finally pound you the way he imagined a few weeks ago. Maybe even harder.

“Oh, fuck!” Yep, he’s right. You are fucked, too.

"You might need to fix me very often, you know?" He drops his hand from your hair just to properly grab your hips. You can barely keep your position like this, his thrusts are so deep.

“Fix you?”

"Yeah. Fix my cock." Oh, that’s what he means.

“We can fix each other then.”

"Ihm." He doesn't say much after this, too focused on kissing your back and keeping the pace at the same time. He's ready to come any minute.

“Harder, Bucky. Please!” You need to come. Really desperately.

"How much harder?" He thrusts a little harder. "More or like this?"

“As hard as you can.”

He doesn't disagree with you, but you know he's holding back even when he pushes harder. And harder. And harder.

"I'm gonna come," he manages to moan. "Fuck I'm gonna come inside you, gonna make a mess. Tell me you… t-tell me you want my come."

“I want your come, Bucky, please. p Please, come with me!” You are already shaking uncontrollably.

"Fuck." That's all you get from him before he's coming, his fingers digging so hard into your skin that you moan again, dizzy from your orgasm.

He keeps moving, making a mess, indeed. It’s already dripping out, you can feel it.

"I came so much." You hear him say suddenly through fogginess.

You smile, resting your head on the bed still, feeling unable to move.

"Not gonna say anything?"

“I died and went to heaven.” You murmur. The orgasm is still running through your veins, making you twitch here and there.

"I've been in heaven for a while."

You finally turn around and look at him. “It was so fucking good.”

"No words." He slowly gets out of you and you notice how happy he is, not taking his eyes off your pussy. "It's gonna start dripping… all over your thighs and sheets. What a nice mark." He even brings a finger to your entrance and pushes back some come.

“Do you have a breeding kink or something?” You smile while asking.

"A breeding kink?"

“Yeah, do you know what it is?”

"Something to do with my come inside you?" He teases. His confusion seems to fade away.

“Yeah, and getting me pregnant.”

He groans, closing his eyes.

“They do that pushing the come back inside thing most of the time.”

"I guess I have a breeding kink." He smiles, accepting it instantly, and finally closes the gap to kiss you. "You might not get rid of me now."

“I knew it!” You point at him with your finger. “I wasn’t gonna get rid of you anyways.”

"Wanna keep me as your boy toy?"

“You wanna be my boy toy?” Your whole face lights up.

"You look quite excited."

“I never had a boy toy before.”

"No?" He shakes his head. "Time to change that. And as your boy toy, I should always make sure you're having a good time." He surprises you by spreading your legs again.

“No, no, no, no. It’s my turn.”

Bucky shakes his head. "Need to get you clean, and then we can do whatever you want, alright?"

“You are really something else.” You sound amazed.

He smirks. "And you're stuck with me. You're all mine now."

You don't get to say anything anymore as you feel his tongue at your entrance. So you just grab his hair, closing your eyes, your exes long forgotten.

“And you are all mine.”

[cece693]

ANOTEHR PART OF HR LOKIS BROTHER X BUCKY OLEALLSPE I LAV U 😭😭😣😣☺️

He's Cute Pt. 3

pairing: bucky barnes x male reader tags: ongoing series because people like this, which is weird cause I never thought this would go off, but I don't hate it, loki makes an appearance, bucky is protective over reader, having the 'talk', even bad guys have people they love

Bucky’s hands still shook with lingering excitement whenever he recalled your last date. The two of you had been going out for a while now—casual walks through the city, late-night movie marathons in the Avengers Compound, even that weekend trip to a cozy little café upstate—and with every new memory you made, Bucky found himself falling deeper in love.

He’d never expected life to feel this…comforting. Even the nightmares that sometimes plagued him at night dulled around you. You had a knack for gently coaxing him out of his shell, whether through quiet conversation or a playful nudge toward some new, exciting Midgardian treat you wanted him to try.

Yet, despite this whirlwind of affection, Bucky still couldn’t bring himself to say the words aloud. I love you. They stuck in his throat every time he tried, leaving him feeling both frustrated and a little guilty. It seemed too soon, too fast, too much. What if you weren’t ready? What if it scared you off?

So he kept that admission locked away, consoling himself with the fact that you hadn’t pressed him for big declarations yet—though you often looked at him with such tender warmth that he thought, maybe you already know.

The following morning, you greeted Bucky with your usual bright smile, eyes shining like you’d never seen a single hardship in your life. He knew that wasn’t true—you’d told him your share of Asgardian struggles and complicated family drama—but somehow, you still managed to see the world with a hopeful gaze.

“Good morning, Bucky!” you chirped, bounding into the common area. “Did you sleep well?”

He offered a small, affectionate smile. “Yeah,” he fibbed—well, half-fibbed, because seeing you now made every lost hour of rest worth it. “Ready for training?”

“Absolutely.” You picked up a spare towel. “But how about we grab coffee after? There’s this new flavor—mint mocha, I think? Wanda says it’s oddly refreshing.”

Bucky’s heart did that little flip it always did around you. “Sure,” he said softly. “I’d like that.”

You never made it to the gym—or to the coffee shop. Halfway to the training room, the shrill wail of the Compound’s alarm cut through the corridors. Overhead lights flickered ominously, and Tony’s voice crackled through the intercom: “All hands on deck—Loki’s back, and he’s making a huge mess downtown. We need everyone. Now.”

Your face fell, a complicated mix of worry and anger. The last time Loki caused chaos, it ended poorly for Earth and for your family. “I’m sorry,” you murmured to Bucky, already moving to join the others. “I know you’ve had enough of these battles…”

He shook his head, grabbing his gear. “Not your fault.”

Together, you raced to the Quinjet, where Thor and the rest of the team were quickly assembling. Thor’s jaw was set, eyes stormy with concern. He muttered something about Loki “never learning,” while Tony, Sam, and Natasha readied themselves for battle. Bucky checked his weapon, heart thudding. He threw you a sidelong glance—he hated seeing the anxious tension in your posture. I’ll keep you safe, he vowed silently, one way or another.

New York’s skyline was tinged green in patches—every illusion Loki summoned seemed designed to confuse both civilians and the team. Tony soared overhead, blasting illusions and trying to pinpoint the real Loki, while Bruce (in Hulk form) tore through illusions that tried to tangle him. Thor, you, and Wanda worked together to dispel the biggest illusions, your combined powers punching holes in Loki’s illusions wherever you could.

Bucky fired round after round at illusory beasts, his sharpened instincts helping him sense the flicker of what was real and what wasn’t. He kept an eye on you, too—whenever you paused to catch your breath, or pressed a hand to your temple from overusing your Asgardian abilities, he felt the urge to run to your side.

He didn’t see the sudden swirl of green magic until it was too late. A shimmering barrier snapped into place around him, cutting him off from the rest of the fight. Bucky spun around, rifle at the ready, but the illusions outside the barrier went oddly silent. The world beyond turned hazy, muffled, leaving him alone in a translucent dome of Loki’s making.

“Sergeant Barnes,” came a sardonic voice behind him. Bucky spun, rifle raised, to find Loki standing there, tall and regal in his horned headpiece, green robes swaying. His gaze was cold, but there was a particular glint in those eyes—like a predator toying with its prey.

“Loki,” Bucky growled, finger hovering over the trigger.

“Oh, please,” Loki drawled, waving a dismissive hand. “Drop your useless weapon. If I wanted to kill you, I would’ve done so long ago.”

Bucky hesitated, jaw set tight. He didn’t lower his rifle, but he didn’t fire either. Around them, the city echoed with chaos—screams, blasts of magic, and the roar of rampaging illusions. Yet here they stood in a strange, still corner, as if Loki’s mere presence had carved out a pocket of calm in the madness.

“What do you want?” Bucky demanded, striving to keep the tremor from his voice. He’d been in fights far worse than this—yet something about Loki’s eerie composure sparked a sense of dread.

“What I want…” Loki repeated, tipping his head in mock consideration. “Hardly matters. I’m only here because it has come to my attention that you’ve taken an interest in my dear brother.”

Bucky blinked, confusion warring with anger. “Thor? I’m not—”

Loki let out a theatrical sigh. “Not that lughead, no.” He narrowed his eyes, smirk twisting. “I speak of my younger brother. The gentler one—(Y/N). The one you’ve been courting.”

At those words, Bucky’s grip on his rifle loosened involuntarily, surprise flickering across his features. “That’s between me and him. Stay out of it.”

Loki’s predatory grin only widened. “Oh, how adorable. A mortal telling me where I can and cannot interfere.” Magic crackled around his fingertips, illuminating the sinister shape of his horns. “Let’s make something clear, Sergeant Barnes: I may indulge in chaos, but I do not tolerate anyone trifling with my brother’s heart.”

Bucky felt a surge of protectiveness over you, matching Loki’s venom in a different way. “I’d never hurt him. Don’t act like you know me.”

“But I do know you,” Loki countered, taking a step forward, voice dropping to a chilling hush. “You’re a man of ghosts, of nightmares. You wear your sins on that metal arm for the world to see. Don’t assume I haven’t researched your past. The Winter Soldier…” He let the words linger. “You have a trail of blood behind you, mortal.”

Bucky’s pulse pounded in his ears. He refused to look away. “That’s over. He sees me for who I am now, and I’d do anything to protect him.”

A pause, and Loki’s lips curled in something close to a sneer—though a flicker of surprise glinted in his eyes. “Oh, I believe you think that,” he said. “But let me be perfectly clear: I might make sport of realms; I might sow chaos when it amuses me. However, if you ever harm my brother—if you break his heart or drag him into your darkness—I will ensure your suffering is something legends are written about.”

A chill coursed down Bucky’s spine, but he refused to flinch. “I—care about him,” he said softly, fighting to keep his voice steady. “I’d never do anything to hurt him.”

“Good,” Loki whispered, eyes glinting dangerously. “Then we understand each other.” He paused, scanning Bucky’s features as though searching for lies. “He has always been different. Too kind for Asgard. My father often overlooked him, but I—” Loki’s lips curled in faint distaste, “I won’t.”

Bucky shifted, uneasy at this glimpse of Loki’s protective side. “If you really care,” he said carefully, “then let this go. Stop this chaos you’re creating.”

Loki rolled his eyes, giving a dismissive wave of his hand. “I’m not here to debate my plans with you, mortal. I’m here to warn you. Do right by him, or face consequences far worse than any Hydra program.”

Bucky’s hand tightened around his weapon. He hated being cornered like this, but a flicker of understanding—of pity, even—touched him. Loki’s brand of protectiveness was twisted, but it was rooted in genuine concern for his younger brother. “Message received,” Bucky said, voice gruff. Loki’s eyes narrowed one last time, as if to emphasize his threat. Then, with a theatrical swirl of his cape, he vanished in a burst of green light. Instantly, the barrier separating Bucky from the rest of the fight melted away, sound and motion crashing back in.

He stumbled slightly, adrenaline hammering in his veins. Looking up, he saw you rushing toward him over the rubble-strewn street, worry etched in your features. Behind you, illusions flickered and dissipated as Thor and Wanda worked together to dismantle Loki’s hold on the city. “Bucky!” you shouted, reaching him in a few quick strides. “Are you okay? Loki’s illusions—what happened?”

Bucky exhaled a shaky breath, lowering his rifle all the way. “He just wanted to talk. Threatened me if I ever—” He hesitated, mind flicking to the exact words Loki used. “If I ever hurt you.”

Your eyes widened, and you let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “He trapped you in the middle of a battle to warn you about me?”

Bucky nodded, swallowing a knot in his throat. He forced a small, wry smile. “Yeah. Guess big brothers come in all shapes and sizes.”

“Gods,” you muttered, pressing a hand to your temple. “I’m sorry he did that to you.”

“Don’t be,” Bucky said quietly. He reached out, resting a tentative hand on your shoulder. “I told him I wouldn’t hurt you. And I meant it.”

Something in your gaze softened. Around you, the remaining illusions fell away with shattering bursts of green energy. The Avengers closed in, readying for Loki’s next move—but for a moment, it was just you and Bucky standing there amid the debris, an unspoken promise shining between you. “Come on,” you said softly, covering his hand with yours. “We should help the others.”

Bucky squeezed your shoulder, nodding. “Right behind you.” And as the two of you headed off to rejoin the fray, Bucky felt a fierce protectiveness surge within him—one that matched Loki’s, if not in cruelty, then in devotion. Because no trickster god, no illusions, and no ghosts of his past would stop him from doing right by you.

[assassin-artist]

relationship chart for Mercy. used with permission, OG belongs to anghelikko on twitter!

quick explanations of each relationship under the cut (:

Cecil is the closest adult in her life at this point I think, so he gets a mix of trust and friendship from her. There's no friendship on his end not because he doesn't care about her on a personal level, but because he sees her more as a troubled child that he needs to look after than an equal to build a friendship on. There's trust on both ends because, despite the fact that Cecil is probably wary of both the twins + Oliver due to their father's actions, I think Mercy's willingness to understand Cecil's point of view with working with criminals and using whatever he has available has gone a looong way to making him respect her a lot more. He sees that she's open-minded and reasonable and it gives him a big sense of safety around her that he didn't have around the acting-on-moral-impulse Invincible.

Donald/Mercy is equally neutral and trust on both ends. I think Cecil would want to always be the one interacting with Mercy in order to build as much personal rapport as possible with this Viltrumite, so I doubt she interacts with Donald a ton outside of him occasionally giving her orders if Cecil is too busy.

William and Amber both get friendship with a bit of trust towards her. I think William has always been more of Mark's friend than Mercy's friend, so although they're somewhat close, they've drifted apart over the recent years and don't consider each other best friends or anything. She was decently close with Amber after the truth about Mark's identity came out (because as soon as Amber knew who Invincible was, she could put two and two together about the twin heroes...), but after the breakup and the split between the twins, I think Mercy would pull away from her because she just feels awkward about it all. They both trust her though because they know she's a hero and that she's doing her best to protect the world.

She's pretty neutral about Paul. Probably sees him very rarely, much rarer than Mark sees him because she's moved out and doesn't come back to the house very often. So I think he'd have to catch her by asking her to have lunch with him or something so they could get to know each other a bit lol. He wants to have a closer relationship to her because of course he wants to befriend his girlfriend's kids, but I don't think Mercy is that interested in it. I think in general she pulls away from a lot of friendships with non-heroes because she's always worried about getting them into trouble. She'd prefer to just be close with other heroes so she knows they can handle themselves if her and Mark's enemies come knocking.

Powerplex is a more obvious answer, I think. I think he hates Mark more than her because he would have personally seen Mark and Nolan fighting on that day, but Mercy probably wasn't there at the exact same time for him to see her and associate her with the trauma, even though it was well known that both of the twin heroes were there on that day. So he still hates her, thinks of her as a hero who gets a lot of people killed, but most of his anger is focused towards her brother. Mercy hates him because he's an unstable villain and he has a personal vendetta against her and her brother.

She's sort of neutral but leaning towards being friends with Allen. Allen would know about her hero and personal identity thanks to Mark being a little snitch, which she was mad about, but she figured that she could let it go because he's an alien so it's not like he's going to be telling reporters about her name or anything. I think they have few interactions together, but the few times they do talk with each other, it's generally a positive interaction. Allen understands Mercy's hatred of Nolan, even if he himself sees a chance of redemption for the man. Their relationship miiight be subject to change after Mercy learns about Allen's befriending and saving her father's life.. we'll have to see.

Now, Nolan himself... I've talked a looot about her relationship and thoughts about her father both before and after the betrayal. She loved him, was a total daddy's girl, and that was all wiped away the day he killed and abandoned her. Now she hates him and wants him dead, there's NO room in her heart for forgiveness towards him. Nolan probably hears from Mark (while they were on Thraxa together) that Mercy has NO intention of ever forgiving him for what he did, that she still hates him with a passion as if his betrayal was just yesterday, AND that she's been on a serious training regimen with the GDA for like 2 years since he left, and he goes "ummm haha i sure hope my daughter doesnt try to kill me like i tried to kill her. oh. hrmm. uh oh". I don't think he's scared in the sense that he thinks she could kill him - I think he's scared mostly because he doesn't want to fight again. Because there's so much hatred in her that a potential second fight can't end on a peaceful note. Someone is going to get seriously hurt or killed. He doesn't want that to be him (he needs to protect those he loves from his own people, after all) but he cant bring himself to do that to her again.. so there's fear at the idea of ever meeting her again.

Oliver and Debbie's relationships to Mercy have also been talked about a lot so I'll just give a very quick summary. Mercy loves them both, but her relationship with her mom is strained because of all the trauma of Nolan's actions, and Mercy moving out of the house or always being busy with GDA work means they don't talk that much anymore. She hated Oliver in the beginning bc he's a reminder of her father's abandonment and she saw him as a 'replacement' for Nolan's 'failed children', but then she put that aside and grew to love him as her brother. Recently, with his admiration of their father and going by kid-omni man, she has grown to fear that he would become just like Nolan.

Now the second chart... this is already getting pretty long lol, even though I'm trying to keep it to just one paragraph per relationship.. Sorry I got so much yapper DNA in me

Mark - their relationship has also been talked about a lot. They were very close twins, they remained close even after Nolan's betrayal and abandonment. But Mark began to forgive their father, to believe that he's a changed man who deserves redemption, and Mercy hates their father too much to ever believe that. The worst strain on their relationship was Mark leaving the GDA after the fight, but Mercy chose to stay. I think Mark would have considered that something like a personal betrayal. They're both very hurt right now.

Eve and Rex were Mercy's friends before all the trauma and splitting, and although their relationships with each other have been through some ups and downs, I think they still care about her and trust her as a hero. Even though both Eve and Rex agreed that she shouldn't have stayed with the GDA after the splitting, they still retain their strained friendship with her I think.

Amanda used to be someone Mercy admired as a hero, and they were sort of like close coworkers before, but after the GDA split I think Amanda would be angry at Mercy for staying. Amanda probably would have said something hurtful - something about how she can't believe Mercy would work for someone who 'tried to kill her brother' - and it would upset Mercy a lot and make her pull away. Very little interactions after the split, so they're both sore at each other still, but there's just enough of that old respect there to not be outright hatred.

Mercy hates Immortal. She put up with his distrust for a while, but one day came where he compared her to her father, or implied that she would betray them just like Omni-Man did, and that was the last straw for her. I think they would have gotten into a physical fight over something like that, so now she just avoids him altogether to not get into another fight. She would pummel him for what he said, it's just that she doesn't want to get in trouble with Cecil for it lol

Black Samson has her respect both because of his status as an original member of the Guardians, and because he chose to stay with the GDA after the split. She looks up to him for guidance sometimes, and he tries to give good advice to this young hero. There's not a personal relationship there, just a good working relationship.

Robot still has a trusting, friendly relationship with Mercy even after leaving the GDA. Amanda was very angry at Cecil and chose to leave bc she hated/distrusted him, but Rudy seemed neutral about it and it looked like he only left because he wanted to go with Amanda.. so I think Robot wouldn't blame her for staying and they could keep a friendly relationship. I think Mercy could still go to him for help if she needed something from him, and he still trusts her instincts and judgment as a hero.

Shapesmith really likes Mercy because she's very nice to him, I stated before that she probably shares her food with him whenever they're having lunch. She'd be patient enough to explain Earth things to him that he's confused about, and I think she'd be curious and want to know more about Mars from him too. She thinks he's pretty naive so there isn't a lot of trust in his instincts as a hero, but she still recognizes that he's pretty tough and can hold his own in a fight.

Dupli-Kate mostly has a neutral relationship with Mercy because they don't interact much in general, but when they do, it doesn't tend to be positive. Kate has the habit of saying mean things sometimes, and Mercy is just high-strung enough by season 3 that she'll shoot back with something just as mean. So the two of them often insult each other and just generally have a negative relationship.

Bulletproof's relationship is mostly neutral, but with him being one of the only flying heroes meant that they probably interacted while on missions more than she did with other heroes. Others had to drive or be flown, but the two of them could fly through the air and chat while on the move. Not a personal relationship, just... marginally closer than most of the others. They both trust each other's instincts and strength.

[steddieas-shegoes]

hate to remember you like this

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'angst with a happy ending' rated m wc: 1000 cw: mention of car accident, medical emergency, temporary amnesia tags: post-break up, assumed unrequited feelings, getting back together

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

"Eddie, it's Steve."

Robin's words echoed in his head as he boarded the plane.

He left Steve three years ago because Steve told him to go, told him that if his dreams were so big that he couldn't stay then he had to leave and not come back.

Steve refused to talk to him since, refused to visit when all the kids came to his shows, refused to show up to Christmas at Wayne's.

So he shouldn't be on this flight to see Steve.

But Robin had insisted that Steve asked for him, and Eddie couldn't ignore the immediate need to be there for him.

Despite time, distance, and the constant feelings of regret mixed with heartbreak and anger, he still only wanted Steve.

He didn't know what happened, just that Steve had been in a medically induced coma for over 24 hours and the moment he woke up, he was begging for someone to get Eddie.

Robin had mentioned that he didn't seem to have all of his memories, but didn't tell him any details on which memories he may be missing.

He sat in his seat and hoped that whatever he was walking into would be closure for his heart.

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

The kids were all sitting in the waiting room when he arrived at the hospital.

The moment Will saw him, hell broke loose.

"Who called you?" he asked.

"Robin. Are they letting people back?" Eddie asked.

"You shouldn't be here," Will said.

Eddie looked at his stance and couldn't help but smile. Will had grown incredibly protective of Steve after Eddie left, much to everyone's surprise.

"He asked for me. I promised I'd come if he ever needed me."

Everyone was quiet for a moment.

"Room 186. He was awake a little while ago, but they're only letting two people in at a time and Robin and Joyce have been with him for the last hour."

"Thanks."

Room 186 wasn't far down the hall. He could hear Joyce's motherly tone fussing while Robin sounded like she was rambling to herself.

When he walked into the room, his breath caught in his throat.

Steve was bruised, and half of his head was wrapped in bandages that looked like they needed to be changed.

But he gave Eddie a soft smile.

A smile he didn't deserve.

"Baby, tell Joyce to stop worrying herself to death over me. I'm fine."

Baby.

Robin and Joyce glanced over at Eddie, waiting for his reaction.

"I got it from here, Joyce," Eddie smiled at her and Robin, understanding coming over him swiftly.

"Alright, Eddie's got ya for a bit, but I'll be in the waiting room if you need me," Robin said, patting Steve's hand.

She gave Eddie a death glare on her way out of the room, silently suggesting that he would need a room at the hospital if he dared to hurt Steve in any way.

He sat down next to Steve, taking in his injuries.

"What took you so long?" Steve asked him, pouting slightly.

"Sorry, sweetheart. Got caught up with the band."

"But it's Wednesday. You don't have practice on Wednesdays."

Eddie sighed.

"Stevie, what year is it?" Had no one checked him for a concussion at any point in the last 12 hours?

"1988."

"It's 1991. You remember my band made it?" Eddie was going to get murdered by Robin for ruining whatever fantasy Steve's mind had settled on.

"What? But-" Steve's brows drew together as he tried to work through his own thoughts and memories. "You guys made it?"

"Yeah, we did."

They sat in silence while Steve processed.

Eddie felt the moment his memory started to come back, the room suddenly going cold.

"You left."

"Steve-"

"You left me," his voice broke, much like it had the night he screamed at Eddie as he walked out the door.

"I did."

"Why'd you come?"

"You asked me to. I'll always come when you ask."

Steve looked at him, his eyes heavy from whatever cocktail of drugs were flowing through his system, glassy with unshed tears.

"Then why did you leave?"

"You asked me to."

"I wanted you to stay. I always wanted you to stay."

"I wanted you to come with me."

They were both tense, Eddie's hands curled into fists against his thighs and Steve's body curling in on itself, preparing for a fight Eddie wasn't going to give him.

"I couldn't."

"I know."

"So, you'll leave again and I'll stay?" Steve asked, choking back a wet sound that Eddie recognized as a sob.

"I'll be here as long as you need me."

Steve searched his face.

"Why now?"

"Because you asked. Because I know what it's like to leave you and I know it's not worth missing you." Eddie gulped. "Because I love you too much to walk away from you again. Not unless it's what you want."

"I never want that."

"Then I'll be right here," Eddie reached for his hand, holding it gently in his own.

"You can't, though. You made it, Eds."

"I'll figure it out. We'll figure it out. Okay?"

Steve stayed silent for a while, but didn't pull his hand away.

"You'll stay while we figure it out?" he finally asked.

"Yeah. As long as it takes."

"Seal it with a kiss?" Steve asked, the way he did when he asked for Eddie to promise that he'd take out the trash, or stop at the store, or love him always.

Eddie leaned in and pressed his lips to Steve's.

Steve smiled as he pulled away.

"First thing to figure out: a new car."

"You totaled it?"

"She was good to me for so long. Unfortunately, she took things worse than I did."

Hard to believe looking at how swollen and bruised most of Steve was.

But they sat and talked through his plans for another car, something he could take on longer road trips to visit all the kids at school, see a few of Eddie's shows.

They'd figure it out.

[yourimagines]

What he likes about you fluff

* English is not my first language I apologise

* Triggers: Fluff

A = Admiration, what he absolutely adore about you: He adores how you understands his life, he loves they way you think and understands him. Your a kind person and he loves that

B = Body, what is his favorite part of your body: Your eyes, the tell so much and he loves to get lost in them

C = Cuddling, how he likes to cuddle: He's the big spoon, his arms wrapped around your body, protecting you.

D = Dates, what his ideal date with you would look like: Going for a walk, looking at the beautiful views, being alone with people watching him all the time, that's what he wants to do with you on a date.

E = Emotions, how he express his emotions around you: When he express his emotions its always a mix of everything. a bit of crying but also anger and frustrations.

F = Family, does he want one? If he does, when: He wants a family with you, not only having having kids but also having pets together and that lovely house, growing old and being there for each other.

G = Gifts, how he feels about gift giving? What is his habit when it comes to this: He loves to give you your favorite snacks or some flowers, he also gives the best birthday presents, he buys what you really love and want. When he spoils you it's always spontaneous.

H = Holding Hands, when/how he likes to hold hands: old school holding you hand, fingers entwined.

I = Injury, how he would act if you got hurt: Upset, he would be really upset and worried about you. He hates to see you hurt, makes him sad and frustrated.

J = Jokes, does he likes to joke around with or prank you and how: You pull pranks on each other all the time, he's a funny guy and likes to see you having fun with him.

K = Kisses, how he likes to kiss you: He will cup your face and gently kiss you on your lips.

L = Love, how he shows you he loves you: He's always there for you, he always makes time for you, texting you and picking up his phone. He remembers the things you like so he can spoil you with it.

M = Memory, favorite memory together: Having a water fight together with his son, you teaming up with his son to get him all covered in water. laughing and running around his backyard.

N = Nightmare, what is his worst fear: That he loses you in anyway possible, that you don't love him for being him and not what he is now.

O = Oddity, what is one quirk he haves: He talks sometimes before he thinks about it, meaning he says sometimes things he doesn't mean

P = Pet Names, what he likes to call you: Darling, Love, Baby.

Q = Quality Time, how he likes to spend time with you: Doing stuff together, watching some movies, baking things, going out, everything as long it is with you.

R = Rhythm, what song reminds you of him: forever young, when you hear that song you think about him. He tries to stay updated about the newest trends, he doesn't want to be left out, he wants to be young forever.

S = Secrets, how open is he with you: He's open but tells you not everything right away, he likes to keep those things for himself, he doesn't want to bother you with his problems

T = Time, how long did it take you to get together: He knew he liked you but he wanted to take it slow because he's a father.

U = Upset, how does he acts when you’re upset: He tried to understand you and thinks how he can fix it. He lets you rant about it and tries to cheer you up afterwards.

V = Vaunt, what is he proud of, Does he likes to show you off: That you love his family, that you have a great bond with his son. He loves to remind people that you would be a great mother.

W = Warrior, how would he feel about you fighting? Would he fight for you: He would be pissed if you had to fight, he throws his hands for you.

X = X-Ray, how well can he read you: He can read you well, he knows when somethings up.

Y = Yes, how would he propose to you: On a walk, somewhere private bur romantic

Z = Zen, what makes him feel calm: knowing that you are okay, that your close to him and that you love him. Hearing your voice makes him calm.

[tytarax]

Okay! Feel free to answer this request when you feel comfortable! No pressure :3

Platonic yan Goomasu who has deluded himself into thinking reader is his baby sibling :) and is trying to hunt them down after killing off the remaining survivors in the area and is shouting out for them to come out of hiding while reader attempts to escape the ruined city in the hopes of hiding away somewhere else, but then Zamasu catches them anyways and drags them back to his cabin :333

The once-thriving city lay in ruins, its streets littered with debris and the remnants of what once was. Amidst the destruction, a single figure moved stealthily, trying to remain hidden. Y/N was desperately trying to escape the wrath of the weird dude who had decimated the remaining survivors. Zamasu, a twisted fusion of Goku Black and Zamasu (:P), had convinced himself that you were his lost younger sibling and was determined to find and protect you, no matter the cost.

"Come out, little one!" Zamasu's voice echoed through the shattered buildings. "It's not safe out here. Big brother is here to take care of you!"

You held your breath, heart pounding in your chest as you crouched behind a collapsed wall. The irrational fear of being found battled with the hope of finding a way to escape the city and hide somewhere safe. Every step you took had to be calculated, every noise avoided, as you tried to stay one step ahead of the deranged deity.

"Don't be scared," he continued, his voice carrying a disturbing blend of gentleness and authority. "I won't let anything happen to you. Those mortals were a threat, but I've taken care of them. You're safe with me."

You knew better. Safety was a distant memory, replaced by the constant terror of being caught by the god who saw you not as a person but as a possession. His delusions had grown stronger with every passing day, his obsession with you deepening as he eliminated anyone he deemed a threat to his "sibling."

As you carefully navigated through the rubble, your mind raced with possible escape routes. Maybe if you could reach the outskirts of the city, you could find shelter, somewhere Zamasu wouldn't think to look. But the sound of footsteps drew closer, each step a reminder of the relentless pursuit.

"There you are!" Zamasu's voice rang out, filled with twisted joy. He had spotted you. Panic surged through your veins as you bolted, running as fast as your legs could carry you. The uneven terrain made it difficult, but adrenaline pushed you forward.

"Don't run from me!" Zamasu's voice was laced with a mix of anger and desperation. "It's dangerous out here! You need me!"

Despite your efforts, his divine speed quickly closed the gap between you. Before you could react, his hand grasped your arm in a vice-like grip, yanking you back with a force that sent you stumbling to the ground.

"No!" you cried, struggling against his hold. "Let me go!"

"Shh, shh," Zamasu cooed, his eyes wide with a mix of frustration and twisted affection. "You're safe now. I won't let anything happen to you. You just need to understand that I'm doing this for your own good."

Tears welled in your eyes as you fought against him, but his strength was overwhelming. He lifted you effortlessly, cradling you in his arms as if you were a fragile child. The contrast between his gentle hold and the devastation around you was horrifying.

"Don't worry," Zamasu murmured, his voice soothing in a way that sent chills down your spine. "I have a place for us, away from all this chaos. We'll be together, just like we should be."

As he carried you through the ruins, your mind raced with thoughts of escape, but every movement only seemed to tighten his grip. Eventually, you arrived at a small, secluded cabin, hidden away from the destruction. Zamasu pushed the door open and brought you inside, setting you down gently.

"See? Isn't this nice?" he asked, his smile unnerving. "We'll be safe here, away from all the danger. I'll take care of you, just like a big brother should."

Despair washed over you as you realized the extent of his delusion. To Zamasu, this twisted version of care and protection was genuine, his mind warped by his own godly arrogance and insanity. And as you looked into his eyes, you knew that escaping his clutches would be nearly impossible.

For now, you could only bide your time, hoping that some semblance of sanity would return to the god who had lost himself in his delusions. Until then, you were trapped in a nightmare, a prisoner of a divine protector who saw you as his precious, fragile sibling.

Masterpost

DBS Masterlist

[todorokis-girl]

I Never Knew You Were Alive - Soulmate AU (V)

Chapter V: Last minute encounter

No actual dabi in this one

Chapter I: So it starts Chapter II: A late arrival Chapter III: belive of be doomed Chapter IV: What are we doing? Chapter V: Last minute encounter Chapter VI: Deciding to fall in love with you

masterlist

Next Chapter

taglist: @staygoldsquatchling02 , @alien-00715-blog

Note: I was gonna post this next week BUT I have some presentations and assignments to turn in, and I don't know if I could keep track of this. Plus I already started chapter VII (I have chapter VI done and ready to post later today, this was supposed to be chapter 1 but I wanted to add drama before this), so that will probably my focus next week.

The day had started like any other. The city bustled with life, the streets filled with people going about their routines. She had been on her way to meet Keigo, walking through a busy shopping district. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm, golden hue over the city. As she passed by a familiar convenience store, she decided to stop in and grab a snack, hoping to alleviate the stress of the day with a small treat.

Inside the store, the hum of the refrigeration units and the soft chime of the entrance bell created a familiar ambiance. She wandered down the aisles, her mind drifting as she absentmindedly picked up a packet of chips. Her thoughts were a mix of mundane worries and lingering memories of a past. The Todoroki family, Touya’s memory, the constant ache of his loss—they were always there, just beneath the surface.

As she reached the checkout counter, a sudden chill ran down her spine. She felt a presence, something or someone that made her skin prickle with a strange sense of déjà vu. Turning slowly, she saw a figure standing at the end of the aisle, partially hidden in the shadows. His posture was familiar, but it wasn’t until he stepped into the light that recognition slammed into her like a physical blow.

The figure turned, revealing the face she had once known so well. His eyes, deep turquoise and filled with a mixture of surprise and anger, locked onto hers. This wasn't the first time they had seen each other. Just a couple of days ago, she had been pressed between him and a wall in an alley; but his eyes seemed wilder than usual, angrier, and she had been feeling tension, irritation, and anger all morning. She didn't understand what had happened, but she did know one thing right now…

Run.

She dropped her bags immediately and sprinted out of the convenience store, anxiously looking around for a place to run to without civilians. It seemed impossible—she was in the middle of a big city. Next idea.

Heroes. She needed to get as many people out of the vicinity as possible. She couldn't do that right now, and she could feel the temperature behind her rise. She had to find help, find heroes who could evacuate the area. The heat was intensifying, and panic clawed at her chest as she darted through the crowded street.

"You're a liar" His voice, raw with betrayal and rage, echoed in her ears. His deep turquoise eyes bore so deeply into hers that the pressure on her chest, in her heart, seemed to increase exponentially.

Her breath came in ragged gasps as she rounded a corner, her mind racing. She needed to find a hero, anyone who could help mitigate the impending disaster. The familiar signs of the shopping district blurred as she focused on putting as much distance as possible between her and the man she had once known.

She knew there was no time to dwell on the past. She had to keep moving, keep running, and find a way to protect the people around her. She spotted one of the local heroes and stopped in from of him, hopping she was far enough for Tou... Dabi as she could. 

"Help, I need help clearing the area as much as posible" The hero looked her over with a corked brow "and I should listen to you why?"

"Damn it I dont have to for this" her breathing picked up and she started shaking "Thermifrost with Endeavors agency, League of villains member Dabi is chasing me, I can take him; but I can't deal with him and getting people out" her eyes settled on angry as she looked at the hero over "get the people out"

She started to feel the temperature rise behind her again, and her own feeling of fear and his feeling of anger increased with every second, making it cold would help her with him, and maybe saving one or two people, but she couldn’t stop him from doing any damage. 

“Yes ma’am!” She nooded and watched him run off screaing at people to move away, and left it up to him to get the help you needed 

She turned around and faced him for the first time since she started to run “I don’t know where this is coming from, or what I did to get you so angry” She was anxious, she wanted to avoid this, but as he walked up to her, slowly, with his arm slowly growin fire, she braced herself for a fight she didn’t want to have. 

"You chose them over me!" Deep turquoise eye bore so deeply into mine, the pressure on my chest, in my heart, seemed to increase.

"I didn't chose anyone over you Touya", anger, misplaced anger, seeped out of my word "I didn't even know you were alive!" A sob escaped me, which made the current situation so much more real. it had been years.. years of pain, thinking he was dead. How dare he? How dare he imply I chose anything in this situation, I chose the option that would have kept me closer to him. When he was dead.

"We have marks with each others names, we feel what the other feels", he took exasperated steps towards me getting closer and more menacing as he got closer, the feeling of safety slowly washing off me, would he hurt me? would he killme? "You're gonna look at me in the eye, and tell me, you didn't know I was alive?"

The question was one that burned inside me, ever since I found out he was alive, and it killed me knowing that he wasn't only alive, but with the villains, it drove me crazy and I could barely sleep. I wondered during the years why occasionally I would feel things that were simply not my own; but how was I to know? He was dead, it was a fact, he died in his fire!, so young, faking your own death that young wasn't realistic to think about. I didn't... other than sudden anger, sadness and occasional pleasure, the feelings didn't range far or even often.

"I didn't! I really didn't know, had I know ANY of this, I would hace been on your side no questions asked," I pulled my legs closer to me, the fight we had engaged in didn't fair well on my body. The burns from his fire were negligible, the burn from my own ice, though, if not treated soon could start causing decay "You think I wanted to sit by and let him do any of those things to Shouto? That it brought me pleasure in any way to say your mother hospitalized? Natsuo and Fujumi so neglected?" The tears finally started pouring out, this was emotionally too much, hopelessness and guilt was bubbling up and started to eat me inside "I don't care anymore, just, kill me if you have to"

The Todoroki's took me in, not because of me but because of him, for him. They swore he would have wanted me to be a part of their family, all the other soulmates of their kids were just as welcomed. Enji took it upon himself to look for all their kids soulmates, as soon as posible. We all knew how.... intense, Enji Tododroki could be, but we stayed for our soulmates. They weren't a perfect family, or even a good one; but I wanted Touya with me so badly, and his family was all that was left; his grave, his shrine, I needed him and I couldn't have him. Now what? It seems I never had anything of his at all.

"I'm not going to kill you" he said while slowly crouching down ro my eye level, the fire in his hand slowly being put out; the look in his eyes wasn't the thing giving his emotions away but the bond we had, I understood the resignation and the conflict happening in his heart "but, we are in a bit of a bad situation right now, doll" I swallowed thickly and rested the back of my head in what was left of the concrete wall behind me.

"I'm not leaving the kids to be killed" I said after a moment of silence, having had to steel my mind and build my resolve; making sure I understood what I was potentially giving up.

"I'm not going to leave the league" he replied after a deep breath, and I could hear the same resolve in his voice.

and, there in lies our problem.

I straightened up my head to look at him again, his hands reaching to the ice around me, I assumed to melt it "don't... it hurts"

He looked up at me and stopped, taking a quick Look over me. "You have to do something about the ice, or you'll be short an arm and maybe a leg"

The cold was starting to set, over my body, and as usual it started to build in my extremities, I could barely feel my nose and my fingers anymore.

I ignored him, the current situation not leaving my mind at all, my injuries could wait "What do we do?"

"What we've been doing," he hesitantly reached to touch my cheek, providing much-needed warmth, his thumb lightly brushing my nose. "I'm dead, sweetheart." He proceeded to hold my hands for a while, and I wished the warmth building up in my body could stay forever.

He immediately stepped away from me the moment we heard running, signaling that heroes were here. "Your help's here," he said something to himself, and slowly he was swallowed by some black goo. "Don't die on me, I gotta see you at the end of this, however that goes." Once he was gone, she felt the ice she had built break, and some heroes rushed in to help her.

"Are you alright?" Hawks was the first to reach her, the concern in his eyes overflowing. She nodded, though her mind was still reeling from the encounter. The warmth from his touch lingered, contrasting sharply with the chill that had settled in her bones.

"We need to get you to safety," another hero, Midnight asked, as she looked over the area, with a soothing voice, said as she helped her to her feet. "You're not injured, are you?"

"No, I'm fine, just need to get warm, or I’m gonna lose my fingers" she replied, her voice trembling. "He's gone now."

The heroes exchanged glances, a mix of relief and apprehension in their eyes. "Good," Midnight said, "but we need to take you to the hospital, any idea why this happened?"

She looked up at them deciding what to reply, she could tell them everything that had been going on, get herself on a watchlist OR she could lie to them, and live in constat panic hoping they won’t find out any time soon. She took a deep breath once she settled on her answer “No, I was at the convinience store, and he just attacked me” 

As they led her through the bustling streets, the golden hue of the setting sun seemed to mock her turmoil. She couldn't shake the feeling that this was far from over. His words echoed in her mind: "Don't die on me, I gotta see you at the end of this, however that goes." 

What did he mean? Was there still hope, or was it a final farewell? Her heart ached with the uncertainty, and the heroes' reassuring presence did little to quell the storm of emotions raging within her.

Hawks didn't leave her side, and insisted on sleeping in her room until her family arrives. She didn't feel good calling them her family anymore, knowing Touya was alive, she didn't feel like there was a place with them anymore. Before she could let the thoughts settle any further her hospital room door opened to reveal all the Todoroki siblings standing there.

"Are you alright?" She smiled at Shouto, and nodded showing him her fingers "I'm all warmed up, I'm only here for a couple hours to make sure nothing else is wrong" He narrowed his eyes at her and sat his hot side closest to her. As she smiled at him she greeted the others.

Hers or not, she loved them as if they were.

[books4ever03]

It's Oh So Sweet (18+ Rosquez)

Tags: 18+, public blowjob, Marc is a menace, protective Marc, revenge sex

Minors do not interact!

Wordcount: 2.6k

After 1.043 days Marc finally wins a race again. At home in Spain no less. But what happens when he finds out that his brother got taken out by one of Rossi's pupils?

Put that together with some old resentment and anger towards the Italian and mix in Marc winning in Italy the week after as well as a meeting and you get this. Whatever this is.

English isn't my first language.

Find me on ao3: Booklover03

@eternalsams

________________________________________________

He did it. He fucking did it. After two years, ten months, one week and six days Marc has won a race again. And it feels absolutely fantastic. As he crosses the finish line he doesn’t hide his pride. His excitement. So much hard work, so much pain and errors he had to endure. But it was all worth it. Every damn second. Marc feels unstoppable as he pulls into parc ferme. His team and family are already waiting for him with big smiles and cheers. Jumping off the bike as soon as he can he sprints towards them, falling into their arms and letting the pats and punches wash over him. He looks around for Alex, last time he saw his baby brother was third and Marc can’t wait to share another podium with him. To share his joy. His brows furrow in confusion when he spots Jorge and Pedro pull in behind him. Turning back to his team he sees a familiar figure out of his leathers and disappointment in his eyes, even though he tries to hide it with a big smile. But Marc knows his brother better than that. Pulling him into a tight hug he demands, “Tell me what happened.” Because he knows that Alex didn’t crash on his own. Not with the way his entire body is tense and the entire team goes silent as they watch their exchange. Something happened and they don’t want to tell him. Wrong decision.

Marc takes his brother’s face and gives him that look where the younger man knows there’s no way for him to escape before he answers. “It was Bagnaia. Rossi’s perfect little soldier.” But it’s not Alex who says it, even though the younger man’s eyes flash dangerously at the mention of a certain Italian. Marc slowly turns to look at their mother whose expression can only be described as thunderous as he processes what she just said. Ever since 2015 his mother has disliked the man who had hurt her boy. And that dislike had only grown with every instance that happened after that. When 2019 happened she had refused to speak his name or even acknowledge his existence. Marc has no doubt that if she were to run across him, they’d have to bail her out of the local police station holding cell. He’d take her out to one of her favourite restaurants right after and spoil her rotten for days but that’s a completely different story. Right now he’s looking at Alex whose jaw is clenched so hard he worries the younger’s teeth will shatter any minute. There is a fury in his eyes that awakens something deep inside of Marc. A similar feeling though much older. It had been years since he had last waisted any drop of emotion on the Italian, finally deciding that the man was not worthy of his thoughts. But here he was again. Wesleying his way back into Marc’s head and using not only his protege to do it but also Alex. The person Marc loves more than anyone else in the world.

He’d go to war for his brother who had to endure far too much already from the Italian and his people with his only crime being that he’s Marc’s little brother. “I will not stand for this. He’s taken things too far once again,” Marc says in a low voice and while his mother gives him a small but feral smile, his father just looks at him with tired eyes. It makes him look older, that look of disappointment and disapproval and it doesn’t sit right with Marc. But he can’t stand by while his baby brother gets caught in the crossfire. With a silent plea to understand directed at his father Marc squeezes Alex’s neck one last time before he’s being pulled away by an official for his interview. Before he knows it he’s up on the top step of the podium, the masses screaming his name while he’s being sprayed by Jorge and Pedro. He lets himself enjoy it while he can. He’ll deal with Pecco and the Italian later. Now he’ll let himself be celebrated like a hero who has just returned home after years of absence. And it is glorious.

As soon as he’s off the podium and manages to persuade his team to let him go take a shower he makes a b-line for the motorhome of his future teammate. He doesn’t bother changing out of his leathers. That can wait. First he needs to have a little chat with Bagnaia. He’s seen the footage of the crash and yes, while it could have been avoided, it was a racing incident. Both riders saw a line, an opportunity and went for it, neither of them baking down. That’s racing. Even if some people will never look at it like that. Marc knows this better than anyone. He doesn’t have to wait long after knocking for the door to open and a very exhausted looking Bagnaia standing in front of him. The younger man’s shoulders drop as soon as he sees just who’s come knocking and Marc can see that he’s bracing himself for a verbal lashing. Well, he’ll have to disappoint him.

“Are you okay?” He asks instead and watches with amusement as confusion takes over the rider’s face. “Some bruising. All okay. Alex?” Marc gives him a small smile, hoping that it will distract from the way he knows his eyes are burning. “He is the same. Maybe wait until next weekend to talk to him. You are going to talk to him, yes?” It feels more like an accusation than he means to but it does the job. The young Italian stands up taller and determination so similar to someone else fills his eyes. “Of course,” Bagnaia replies before nervously scratching the back of his neck when Marc stays silent. “I am sorry that it happened, of course. I hope we are okay?” It comes out hesitant and for a split second Marc sees the real Pecco. Not the golden boy protege persona he puts on for the media. For him. Marc looks him up and down, deciding the best way to approach this. “We are,” he says and watches the other rider visibly relax. “Counter to someone’s beliefs I am not looking for trouble. Especially not with a future teammate.”

The younger man doesn’t show it but Marc knows they both know who he means. Taking a step closer he smiles when the other doesn’t retreat. It’s going to be fun to see just how far the two of them will push each other next season, he thinks. “I want you to give him a message for me, yes? Tell him,” he says, breaking off for a moment just to see the younger man squirm a bit at the proximity. “Tell him that he can say about me whatever he wants. That he can even put his little lap dog and pupils on me on and off track. But-,” Another pause. “Keep Alex out of it. My brother has done nothing to him and still suffered for my - no, for our - mistakes. He has lost more than enough because of it all And I will not stand for it a single moment longer.” With a slightly feral smile Marc pulls back, letting the poor boy breathe again. “You will tell him, yes? Please? I would really appreciate it.” And with a pat on the younger man’s shoulder, he turns around and goes back to his own motorhome for a long awaited shower before he heads out to the club to celebrate some more. He did just win a race at home after all.

Even a week later the euphoria is still there and there’s a kick in his step as he walks through the paddock. He’s in enemy territory which always gives him that extra thrill. But today is special. Not only is he on pole - again - with Bagnaia starting a few positions behind him - again - but today is special. Because a certain curly haired Italian is in the paddock, only two garages down from his. And if that knowledge doesn’t send a tingle down Marc’s spine. He can hardly keep his grin in check as he makes his way onto the grid where his team is already waiting with the bike.

Part of him really hopes that Bagnaia passed on his message. It would be such a shame if he didn’t. But judging from the glares Bezzecchi keeps sending him all weekend, Marc has a pretty strong feeling that his message was passed on to someone. Speaking of the devil, the younger rider glares at him as he passes and Marc can’t help but mess with him, sending him a wink with a cheeky grin. If he does a questionable motion with his hand and tongue too no one needs to know. But he does throw his head back with a laugh at the deep red blush creeping up Bezzecchi’s neck as he remembers their encounter in the club’s bathroom the week before. Oh yeah, Marc’s going to enjoy teasing him about that. But first, he has a race to win.

There’s a comfortable gap between him and Bagnaia and Bezzecchi so after one last look over his shoulder he leans back on the bike, crossing his arms in front of his chest. No one can see it but he’s grinning under his helmet. And he knows if he looks into a mirror right now his gaze would be predatory. Because he already knows that he’ll be getting a visit later. And if that isn’t exciting. Once again he celebrates with the team, does the interview and makes his way up to the podium. But this time he’s flanked by two Italians in front of their home crowd. You could cut the tension with a knife. As soon as the last note of the Spanish anthem ends he’s sprayed with Prosecco from both sides before he gets even. Marc takes his time with Bezzecchi, making sure to aim right at his face and mouth, daring him to open it and swallow. But the younger man is stubborn as ever causing Marc to grin at him cheekily, sending him a wink before he turns his attention to his team.

He’s still on the high of his win when he walks back to his motorhome, still in his leathers that are now drenched in sweat and Prosecco. When he walks up to it, he sees a familiar figure leaning against the side of it in the shadows. If you didn’t know him, you’d miss him completely. But Marc knows him. He knows it every time that the other man is in his vicinity. A smug expression settles on Marc’s face but he quickly scolds it as he gets closer. Let the man think he’s the one with all the control. Let him believe that he still has power of Marc. For a moment he acts like he doesn’t see the man and just keeps walking when a hand shoots out from the shadows and wraps itself around his wrist in a tight grip. The Spaniard suppresses a smug grin. The game has officially begun. And he doesn’t plan on losing. He’s on a winning streak after all. It’s showtime. Feigning surprise he lets himself be pulled into the shadows and caged against the wall of his motorhome. He lets out a small curse that sounds like he just got scared. “Marc.” Taking a shuddering breath he swallows hard before replying. “Rossi."

Because he’s no longer Vale - not even Valentino - to him. No, that was a long time ago. And he won’t give in just yet. Make the Italian work for it a little bit. “It was a good race.” Marc wets his lips and a thrill shoots up his spine when he sees the older man’s eyes tracking the movement. So he does it again just to feel the way the hand around his wrist tightens just the tiniest bit. “It was,” he says, playing up the breathiness of his voice. “Why are you here, Vale? Why are you doing this? Why now?” He asks, breathless and makes a show of flickering his attention from the Italian’s lips to his eyes and back. Marc doesn’t miss the way the older man’s breath catches at the use of his nickname, his piercing eyes trained on the Spaniard’s lips as they form each letter. “Vale?” It comes out a bit whiny, just the way Marc knows he likes it.

He watches with satisfaction as the Italian’s control seems to waver with every passing second. Rossi curses under his breath. “I wanted to talk to you,” the older rider says while simultaneously leaning closer. Now their bodies are touching from head to toe and Marc can feel the way it’s affecting the Italian. Marc isn’t unaffected about this either, his leathers growing tighter. “Pecco told me your message.” The Spaniard hums, tipping his head back to look up at the man with heavy lidded eyes. “Is that all?” He asks and sneaks his hands down until they rest on the Italian’s waist. “I also wanted to congratulate you. For the win in Spain,” Rossi says, though his voice is rough and no louder than a whisper. Feeling daring, Marc brings his face closer, so close that their lips are slightly brushing against each other as he says, “Then congratulate me. Show me what I deserve for winning again.” It’s a dare, a dangerous one and for a moment he’s not sure if he just pushed too far and ruined everything.

But those worries disappear as quickly as Rossi sinks to his knees, opening Marc’s leathers as he goes down. The Spaniard watches him like a hawk, not wanting to miss even a single second, not even taking his eyes off the man when his cock is suddenly enveloped in wet heat. Letting out a slight hiss, he quickly buries his hand in the familiar curls, just resting there. Because he knows as soon as he pushes or tries to set a pace this game is over. Because as much as Rossi loves a dick in his mouth, he doesn’t like being told how to do it. So Marc just watches, groaning and moaning as the other man sinks down deeper on his cock, his throat fluttering around it. It’s nearly embarrassing how fast Rossi can still get him to the edge but right now Marc doesn’t care. All he cares about is that he has the Valentino Rossi on his knees for him, with his dick in his mouth and hungry for his cum. And who is Marc to deny him that?

Without a warning he thrusts his hips forward while simultaneously pushing the Italian’s head down, forcing himself as deep as possible as he crashes over the edge. Both of them are panting when Rossi slowly pulls off Marc’s spent cock, a string of cum breaking only when the older man flicks out his tongue. The Spaniard regards him for a moment, taking in the picture he makes with his hair all messy and face flushed. Not waiting for Rossi to get back up from his knees, Marc tugs himself away and zips his leathers back up just enough to be deemed decent. Looking down at the man who was once his idol, his hero, his friend and even his lover, he tilts his head and hums. “You should talk to little Marco. You could learn a thing or two from him.” And off he goes, leaving the Italian on his knees, stunned and confused, still hard in his trousers and cum dribbling down his chin.

[inukag-archive]

Jealously Inuyasha fanfics??

Hello there! We previously posted a list of stories centered around jealous Inuyasha, but we were able to find a few more below (featuring Inuyasha and/or Kagome as the jealous one). You might also want to check out our protective/possessive InuKag list, since there is some overlap of jealousy there too.

Happy reading!

GIF by @sleepy-edits

Jealous Hanyou by Ayster (M)

Inuyasha does not like what is his to be touched, not even a simple touch in a friendly manner. His too cute for her own good girlfriend- Kagome - works at a bar where she wears a bunny-nurse cosplay as her work uniform. When he finally gets fed up with all the horny idiots that hit on his female at work- he at last claims her as his.

--

The Jealous Are Troublesome to Others, but a Torment to Themselves by KuroNoHime (E)

Kagome's new, hot math tutor blows Inuyasha off his hinges and the girl of the future has finally had her quota on Inuyasha's constant, irrational jealousy. She brews a plan to serve Inuyasha some humble pie and make him admit his feelings for her.

--

Let me kiss your ramen-flavoured lips by @jeremymarsh & @turtleduckstudios (G)

Working as a freelancer has forced Inuyasha to leave Kagome far more than he would have liked and they’ve sort of gotten used to it. So when a well-paid job opportunity that could allow them to finally marry and secure the house of their dreams comes along he can’t refuse, even if it means they’ll be on different sides of the country for a long time.

Will jealousy and insecurities play their part too?

Or:

Inuyasha is a worrywart and that causes problems more often than not, but in the end, Kagome loves him too much to care.

--

InuKag - Jealousy by pastedpages (E)

A week after Kagome returns to the feudal era for good, Kōga shows up to see her—and Inuyasha isn't happy about it. Luckily for him, he's the only one she wants.

--

The Other Woman by legallyadragon (T)

Kagome never truly understood why Koga's baseless flirting bothered Inuyasha so much. After all, he knew she wasn't actually interested.

She understands a little bit better now, but Inuyasha shows her that she doesn't have anything to worry about.

--

Tits for Tat by @kitramune (E)

During Inuyasha's human night, Kagome ends up feeling something she hasn't felt in a long time. Luckily they have new ways of... venting that feeling, so to speak.

--

Maybe, Probably by @lavaffair (T)

They've been best friends since they were kids, and somewhere along the way, they fell in love. However, neither of them have confessed these feelings to one another. They vowed to always put each other first, and to stick by each other's side no matter what.

With finals week two weeks away, Inuyasha's classmate asks him for help to study for their big test. The same classmate who happens to have a massive crush on him.

For the first time, Kagome deals a hand with jealousy.

--

No One Else by @goshinote (G)

After exterminating a yokai in a small village, Inuyasha finds himself as the focus of a local woman's attentions. Since when is Inuyasha a ladies' man? Well, maybe that's stretching it.

--

Perfectly Flawed by dolphingirl0113 (T)

Inuyasha began to feel the cruel stab of jealousy. How was he supposed to compete with a copy of himself? A better copy? Someone without all of his flaws? “Kagome…please don’t leave me…”

--

Jealous Much? by Gfam89 (M)

Kagome is tired of the Kikyo and Inuyasha situation, so she goes home to get a break. She knows she can't be away from Inuyasha for too long, but when she meets another boy at school, how will Inuyasha react to her newfound 'friendship'

--

A Sealed Fate by @ajoy3fanfics (M)

Kikyou no longer wishes to drag InuYasha to hell, but rather pick up where they left off 50 years ago. Convinced that this is what will heal InuYashas heart, Kagome leaves the feudal era, sealing the well behind her. Or so InuYasha thinks...

--

Give Me Love - an InuAU by EnelyaTheSmall (T)

Inuyasha is a Mixed Martial Artist with an anger problem and Kagome is the breath of fresh air that he has so desperately needed.

--

Love and War by @starlingchildgazingatthestars (E)

Prompt: "We're not just friends, and you fucking know it."

Kagome is fed up with Inuyasha's obnoxious, jealous behavior, and they get into a huge fight. They may be childhood best friends, but this is getting ridiculous. They aren't even a couple! Or are they...?

--

Feel free to add your own recs in the comments or reblogs! Check our Masterlist of previous lists to see which topics we've covered.  After reviewing our submission guidelines, send us an ask (here).

[pokemoncardcritique]

CHARMANDER Illustrated by: MINAMINAMI Toke

Look at how grumpy that Charmander is! He wants to be out there with the Pidgey so bad right now, although probably so he can roast them for daring to near his home. I love that it captures the juvenile energy of a young starter. Charmander wants to go out in the garden so badly that it feels like pressing up against the window, getting as close as it can possibly be, somehow is better than not scrunching your nose up against a window!

That impotent anger is so cute and a really fun down-to-earth idea for some card art. The owner probably left Charmander on its own and it heard the Pidgey outside, and it went over to "guard the house" like a dog that has to bark at anything outside that makes a noise. It almost feels like Charmander here might be in timeout though. Is it grumpy because it used to be let outside but kept hitting the local bird Pokemon with Ember too much? Or does this little lizard take protecting its home far too seriously? If you look in the background behind Charmander there, there's a Glameow with one eye open watching. It doesn't seem too worried as it's resting, but like a big sister, sometimes you have to keep your eyes on the little guy so he doesn't somehow get himself in trouble!

The house exterior is very pretty here too, a nice painted look for a very lush and vivid garden. So many plants, I feel like that Charmander must not get outside too often or they'd all be roasted by now! Its tail is burning strong, possibly reacting to that grouchiness as it wants to shoo away the birds with some fire breath. The slight reflection of the Pidgey sitting on the windowsill is another nice artistic touch. I bet few people would think much about it if it wasn't there, but it does help establish that otherwise very clean window exists since it's so transparent.

This card is a very interesting mix of lovely artistry with the setting and style all in service of a very funny image of a Charmander who just wants to go out and play, even if it might play a little too rough and dangerous. This was actually one of the first cards I saw that started to make me look deeper into Pokemon card art again, all because an artist decided to take Charmander and not emphasize battle or its fire or anything like that. It's just one of those natural scenes that could happen when keeping a Pokemon around the house, your young companion wanting to be outside when it shouldn't be and getting grumpy about it. Who knows how many windows in the Pokemon world have the finger (and nose) prints of other Pokemon looking out the window wanting to run a little wild?

★

[logan-fields-official]

Gon Freecss and Killua Zoldyck with a bullied S/O

Hope this helps!

Gon Freecss-

Now Gon wouldn’t be very happy with this I mean he wouldn’t to be able to even understand why anyone would want to do this! Now Gon is very friendly as we know yet he can be very protective when needed. This is one of those moments when he’s protective. Now Gon would still try to be kind and handle this without violence but if needed he will use force and of course he will comfort you in the most sweet way.

-little story-

Gon Freecss sat alone in his room, staring out the window with a heavy heart. He had been feeling uneasy for the past few days, and he couldn't quite put his finger on why. He rubbed his temples, trying to push away the nagging feeling, but it only seemed to grow stronger. It wasn't until he received a call from his best friend, Killua, that the pieces started to fall into place. Killua told him about a recent incident at school – Gon's lover, [Name], had been bullied by a group of students and had kept it a secret from everyone, including Gon. Gon felt like his world had been turned upside down. He couldn't understand why [Name] would hide such a serious matter from him. He thought they were supposed to be able to talk to each other about anything, especially something as important as being bullied. Without a second thought, Gon grabbed his backpack and rushed out of the house, determined to find [Name]. He knew they would usually spend their afternoons studying at the library, so that was the first place he headed. Sure enough, he found [Name] sitting at a table, a pile of books scattered in front of them. But upon closer inspection, Gon could see the sadness in their eyes, the bruises on their arms, and the way they were trying to hide their face from him.'Hey,' Gon said softly as he took a seat next to [Name]. [Name] looked up at him, their eyes widening in surprise. 'G-Gon? What are you doing here?' 'I came to see you,' Gon replied, his voice taking on a more serious tone. 'Why didn't you tell me what happened?' [Name] looked away, their expression pained. 'I...I didn't want to bother you. It's not that big of a deal.' Gon shook his head, a mix of anger and concern bubbling up inside him. 'It is a big deal, [Name]. You were hurt and you didn't tell anyone. You didn't even tell me.'[Name] fell silent, their hands nervously fiddling with the hem of their shirt. 'I didn't want you to worry. I know how much you have going on in your life already.'Gon's heart swelled with love for [Name]. They were always so selfless, always putting others before themselves. But this time, Gon couldn't let them carry the burden alone.'You don't have to face this alone, [Name],' he said firmly. 'I may have a lot going on, but that doesn't mean I won't make time for you. I'll always make time for you.'[Name] looked up at him, tears brimming in their eyes. 'I'm sorry, Gon. I should have told you.'Gon reached out and took [Name]'s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. 'It's okay. We'll face this together. 'And that's exactly what they did. Gon made sure to talk to the school about the bullying and made sure [Name] felt safe and supported. He also made a point to spend more time with [Name], making sure they knew that they were loved and not alone. As they sat together at the library, studying and enjoying each other's company, Gon couldn't help but feel grateful for the strong connection they shared. They may have faced a bump in the road, but their love for each other was unshakable. And that was all that mattered to Gon.

Killua Zoldyck

HAHAHA someone dare bully’s his S/O YEAH NO- this man will not let that happen for long. The moment he finds out about this he’s gonna hunt the kid(s) DOWN. Like i can promise you they will not be alive much longer unless you convince him not to kill them.

-little story-

Killua Zoldyck was known for his sharp mind, quick reflexes, and deadly assassin skills. However, there was one thing that he cherished above all else - his lover. They had been through countless dangerous adventures together, facing off against powerful enemies and overcoming challenges as a team. But there was one thing that Killua never expected to encounter - his lover being bullied. As the news reached Killua's ears, he felt a sudden surge of anger and protectiveness overwhelm him. How could anyone dare to hurt his precious partner? Without a moment of hesitation, he rushed to their side, determined to put an end to the bullying once and for all. When he finally arrived, he found his lover sitting alone in a corner, their usual cheerful demeanor replaced with a look of sadness and dejection. Killua's heart clenched at the sight, knowing that his lover was going through something difficult and didn't tell him. 'Hey,' he said softly, kneeling down in front of them. 'What happened?' At first, his lover was hesitant to tell him, but Killua's gentle and reassuring presence convinced them to open up. They explained how a group of students had been picking on them for weeks, making hurtful comments and stealing their belongings. Despite trying to ignore it, it had taken a toll on their confidence and self-esteem. Killua felt a mixture of rage and guilt wash over him. Rage towards the bullies and guilt for not noticing his lover's struggles sooner. He wanted to hunt down those responsible and make them pay, but he knew that it wouldn't solve the problem. Instead, he took his lover's hand in his and made a promise. 'I won't let anyone hurt you like this again. From now on, we'll face this together. You don't have to go through it alone.' And true to his word, Killua stood by his lover's side every step of the way. He made sure to be extra vigilant and protect his lover from any further harm. He also taught them self-defense techniques, empowering them to stand up for themselves. But most importantly, Killua showed his lover unwavering love and support. He reminded them that they were strong and capable, and that the bullies were just insecure people looking for a target. Slowly but surely, his lover's confidence began to return. It wasn't an easy journey, and there were still moments when Killua's lover would feel down. But knowing that they had each other's backs, they were able to overcome any obstacle that came their way. In the end, Killua's fierce protectiveness and unwavering love had not only helped his lover stand up to the bullies but also strengthened their relationship. They had faced yet another challenge together and emerged even stronger as a couple. From that day on, Killua made a promise to always be there for his lover, no matter what.

[elfqueen006]

Running Red

A drabble for @themeatpit37's Slasher!Jack AU ft. my OC May-Rose and "Selene," my name for human Moonpie. Basically, it's a chase scene and I hope I captured the maliciousness of the villainous Jack in this.

Wanted to draw something but summer classes and shit cutting in on my fun. Figured I could scribble this up while it was in my head between free time.

Tw: injury, implied/referenced cannibalism and gore, blood and violence, implied death of character offscreen.

---

He fought like an animal. His head dips low and to the right, surveying her from all angles before taking a running start to pounce at her. May barely makes it out the way when she jumps to the side and scrambles back up, ignoring the throbbing in her left arm. It was still scratched up from his "claws" -- some kind of filed metallic material stuck to otherwise friendly, fluffy fur gloves.

Selene was hiding like she told her. Where, she didn't know, but somehow, she felt that was the best case scenario. 'As long as Jack can't find her.' She thought.

Her thoughts were already mixed up out of focusing on survival and worry for her godchild. She didn't know how long this fight would last. She couldn't find a second of opportunity to look inside any of her ex's compartments for a gun. She recalled in college, Ian said something along the lines of hoping he'd never have to own a gun, and she mentally cursed him to his grave. If he owned a damn gun he wouldn't be dead now.

Then again, could a gun work on this... thing? Not even the chair could keep him down. What could a bullet do against supernatural evil?

Jack's big eyes looked back at her from behind his plastic lion mask. She thought they were a bright brown, but everytime his focus was her alone they were a blood red. He didn't have a problem getting on his feet, languidly rising from the floor to stalk towards her again.

"Oh, lioness," Jack purred, "You can't protect your cub forever."

Her voice impulsively lashed out, "What the hell do you want from her?"

He shrugged, "Lion's gotta eat. It's what we do . Especially when the prides getting a li-i-i-tle too big." he hopped forward a few steps in tune with his words. Mays lips rose in a snarl as she backed up. The masked man snickered, and her anger rose over fear at how easily he made their continued survival into a sick little game. Her protectiveness of Selene and hostility towards him didn't add caution but fueled his "lioness" image of her.

Something else then clicked for May -- Jack ...Joseph... whoever he was. Is not a man, nor some freak in a mask, but a caricature of his former self. Someone who's abandoned humanity and empathy for carnal desire. A mascot for terror and evil, one he assumed with glee.

May wasn't sure how she could win against something like this... but she had to try.

She turned and fucking ran. There was no direction she was going with other than away from the predator. The click of nails followed close behind. He was probably running after her on all fours - the freak.

Ian didn't have much in his living area, but whatever May could find, she threw. She threw a small alarm clock and missed. She threw a lamp that he took like a fucking pro. And in her growing frustration she took the wooden stand by the couch and swung it down with surprising force. He cried out as it hit him over his shoulder, making him stumble backward. May didn't wait for him to regain balance.

Reaching over for a glass trinket on Ian's TV shelf, she flung it toward him. It crashed into his chest and she grinned, truly vindicated when he made a pained "Augh! "

As she turned to run, Jack winced, running his hand over his broad chest. Some glass had been lodged in the skin. He clenched his teeth as he pulled it one out with his claws, then two, and three. There were some tinier shards that just couldn't be grasped, making his skin quiver in discomfort. Then his attention was drawn to the familiar and yet jarring red liquid blooming from the cuts on his skin. They came as little droplets before trickling down over the fabric of his shirt.

Experimentally, he swiped a thumb over the blood and tasted it fresh off the fabric... the same. And yet, different. How could he pin that? It was almost the same as touching yourself. You didn't know why it felt different with other people, it just did. And just like an orgasm, you know it's coming, but with others you don't know how. That was part of the fun for him. Finding out different ways to make them bleed. Every wound, every cut, every bruise would open and send him up a fountain of gushing red gold. His reward for playing a different strategy with each kill.

He knew he bled, but it was rare someone showed him how. It was exhilarating.

[fgfluidity]

bartender (part 3)

Summary: bartender- English, ‘the one who mixes drinks’

Over time and betrayal, people and drinks both change. (sequel to pincerna)

Pairings: Damien/DA, Mark/Celine, Wil/Celine (all only mentioned)

Warnings: mentions of death, blood, alcohol (obviously); please drink responsibly

Bartender: 1 | 2

support me?

@opprose @volbeast @statictay @otterlyinluv @mirrorslament @alaroweq

II.

All his life, Damien always had his sister.

Perhaps not always physically, given her repeated, extended excursions to places both far and near, all in search of some paranormal truth, but certainly emotionally. She’d always write him back, however long the letters took to come, each with her advice or her teasing in the same thin, dark script.

When she was home, and he wasn’t busy with ever-increasing responsibilities, he would spend time with her. Her work was soothing, hypnotic-- just the thing to soothe his brain once it was full up, struggling under his immense (self-inflicted) workload. She’d let him sit in the corner, in one of the cushy chairs she saved specifically for those she entertained, all as she wiled away at her notes and potions.

She always preferred the hard-backed, wooden chairs to sit in. He couldn’t imagine why.

The thing about twins is, no matter how different they are, no matter how hard they try, some always see them as one entity. His father’s crowd, for example, always asked after the both of them at once.

He’d joked, once, that their names were DamienandCeline.

Even once she left home, they’d ask about them both, tinged with distaste and shame-- and, from the younger of the crowd, the ones closer to his age, with a bit of awe.

She was the one who made it out, after all. It comes with a certain mystique.

She loved mystique.

The longest they ever went without speaking was just after the news of her… dalliance… broke. She left the night Mark saw, leaving him to spread the news of the affair. For all intents and purposes, she just vanished.

He’d felt the wrongness, their ill-fitting nature, but he still didn’t say a word. Hindsight is twenty-twenty, after all; still, saying I told you so wouldn’t help anyone after the fact. He can’t claim pride in not saying it.

He also can’t claim pride in his letters to her, afterward. He went through many drafts, at first, looking for the right combination of concern and disappointment, and he waited anxiously by his mailbox for any response for weeks afterwards.

Even when he sent a second, third, fourth, increasingly worried, using her nicknames both sweet and cruel, hoping to cajole her into responding, she never did.

(“I just don’t know what happened to her,” he confided, once, staring down into his hands. “It’s been so long. I’ve tried everything short of tracking her down-- I’m worried.”

“I know,” his friend had said, eyes kind and sad, their cups of tea long-forgotten on the coffee table. They set a gentle hand on his arm. “She’s… I always thought of Celine like a cat. She’ll come when you stop calling her.”

“You think everyone you like is like a cat,” he teased, watery and weak. They tilted their head back and laughed, and he finally smiled.)

The next he saw her was at the manor, power shining behind her, her sharp tongue at its worst.

Then, after all of it…

His time in The Place For Broken Things-- her name for it, and he always knew it to be capitalized-- feels like a dream, and in retrospect, was.

For all her faults, Celine was powerful. She made that place so real, bolstered by dream-logic so he wouldn’t question, all to keep him safe and asleep.

For all her faults, even she bought into the lie that he was nothing but gentle and good, to be protected from all harm. Big sisters are like that.

She never slept once, though she went out every day with her gun into the blistering cold, fueled by her anger at something he couldn’t place until the very end. She didn’t stop, pouring all of herself into a sweet, meaningless dream so he could stay himself.

She never asked him what he wanted. If she had…

He wouldn’t be like this, now-- a shadow of a man, standing in a non-space between dark and light, substance and imagination. There’s nothing here but him. There’s no light, no air, no sound, no sense. Nothing but a faint sense of cold, him in his torn up suit-- body thankfully out of pain-- and a bottle.

This place is endless. He’s tried to chart it, bringing in paper and pens, a flashlight, anything he could to try and make sense of it; unfortunately, it’s emptier than space. There are no landmarks in the inky nothingness, and whatever light he tries to bring in snuffs out almost immediately, colorless and weak.

Nothing keeps its color here, nothing but the flashes when he uses his power.

For his entire life, she was there, a big personality he couldn’t ignore. Her bold, dramatic dress, her draw to power, her strong will and sharp wit-- even her dahlia perfume rubbed off on her letters home, her chiding in his mind when she wasn’t within a hundred miles of him.

He can’t hear her voice in his head, now. For all his time exploring, he hasn’t felt a hint of her presence.

Still, it’s the only place left to look. He can’t be without his sister, he just can’t.

It’s still odd to be here. He forgets his body doesn’t need, the feelings of hunger and thirst and suffocation dying off if he pushes past the initial discomfort. Phantom pains, vestiges of his humanity-- he doesn’t die, no matter how long he goes without.

It’s odder, still, how he can get here, how he can make things just by thinking. The first time a watering can appeared after looking at his parched plants, he about jumped out of his skin.

His friend would get a kick out of studying him under a microscope. He tries not to think about that too much.

Still, with his own experimentation, it comes easier and easier. With little but a thought, a twist of void, a glass and a corkscrew appear in his hand, and he sets to work.

“You used to drink this vintage all the time,” he says aloud, half hoping she’ll hear his voice and follow it. “It took me a long time to remember the name, though. Even longer to track some down. Time… keeps passing. Faster than it ever did.

“I never tried this one, you know? I kept to whites, or liquor. Red wine sort of scared me.” He laughs, looking into the glass as he pours. The wine has no color here, just dark liquid sloshing against the sides. “Can you imagine that? I’d bet you’d laugh at me. You always liked to make fun.”

He sets the bottle down on a table that appears out of nothing, and lifts that glass to eye-level. It’s about where wine should be, where the legs are involved, and it smells leathery, smoky.

“Well. Here goes.” He raises it higher, briefly, in a wordless cheer, before bringing it to his lips.

The wine certainly feels smooth. It isn’t crisp or bright like his preferred wines; it’s acidic on his tongue, drying his mouth when he finally swallows. It’s bitter, tannin-rich, and tastes just as it smelled. Cherries, too.

He winces, then sets the glass down by the bottle. “I don’t think that one’s for me,” he comments, sheepishly, to nothing. “I don’t think it should be for you, either. I’m going to try and expand your palate, one way or another.”

He looks out into the void, where nothing moves or makes a sound, and swallows hard around the lump in his throat. “I’ll… leave this one here for you in the meantime, though. I hope you enjoy it, Lina.”

He lingers a distance away for some time, watching the table where he put the wine. However long it is, he isn’t sure, but nothing shows up.

Just before he can raise his hand to make a portal out, dejected, something stops him. It’s nothing physical, but a tug in his stomach, a faint hope, perhaps, that keeps him looking.

There, in the distance, the wine glass gleams red, and the liquid sloshes.

Like a cat, indeed.

--------

Red Wine

--

140ml/5oz red of your choice (Pinot Noir, Cabernet Sauvignon, Petit Syrah, etc.)

Pour room-temperature red wine into an equally room-temperature red wine glass. Enjoy with dark chocolate, cherries, red meat.

Cannot be considered a cocktail anymore. Very dry, possibly even bitter, but not as strong as other spirits. Often kept in a cool, dark place.