#god do I wish I could be normal about this godDAMMIT

[edierone]

the millennium kiss is going. to bother me. for the rest of Time

[themeraldee]

The Lucky Winner - Part 2

[Masterlist] [Part 1]

18+ Only | 7.3k | Homelander x fem!Reader | Early Season 1. Voice kink (mild). Roleplay. Established Relationship. Masturbation. Dirty Talk. Unprotected sex. 

Summary: After much deliberation you finally decide to meet your hero at a meet & greet.  

Author’s Note: Sorry if the ending of this feels a little confusing. I did have an idea for a retrospective Part 3 of this that would cover the events in between Part 1 & 2, clearing up the confusion a little bit, let me know if you'd be interested!

The metal detector beeps, finally letting you through after the hassle of emptying your entire bag and getting a full body scan. You quickly collect your scanned belongings and you scuttle along, almost sprinting across the now-empty hallway. You’re breathing heavily, holding onto the bag over your shoulder as you reach the right door. Panicked and out of breath you show your pass to the man working the door and he just about lets you in grumbling something about it being way past the time slot and how you’re the last one in. You ignore all of it, instead you focus on your breathing and move along. You inhale sharply through your nose, trying to mask just how winded that rush got you. 

You take your place as the last one in the line. Turning around just in time you see the door guy close off the room, not letting anybody else in. Phew. You just about made it. You smooth out your summer dress, adjusting the bag you had over your shoulder as you look around the hall. God, you’ll be waiting forever!

You knew it would be busy but having usually avoided convention centres it still hits you hard with how overwhelmingly packed the hall is. The ventilation and air conditioning could be state-of-the-art and it would still feel stuffy. Looking around you feel like one of the few people who didn’t bother dressing up like their favourite heroes. You see about thirty Queen Maeves at a quick glance, another twenty Black Noirs, a few of the Seven’s new member Starlight but the most prevalent one is easily a sea of Homelander knock-offs. The sea of cheap red, blue and white assaults your vision, making it actually pretty overwhelming to look around.

For once Homelander is actually drowned out in a sea of look-alikes where normally he stands out like a sore thumb in all his primary-coloured glory. Homelander. Just the thought of seeing him here makes you pick at your nails and bite your lips with anxiety. Sure, you’ve met him before. You’ve talked. You even had sex, really good sex, goddammit. You have history. But still, you’ve never done this. Not the in-public meet & greets that you decided to put yourself through today. But still, you’re doing this for him. 

The longer you’re standing at the end of the line the longer being surrounded by fans dressed in Spirit Halloween versions of the Seven’s costumes is becoming less comical and more uncanny valley. You only wonder what it feels like to them.

You slowly move through the line. Sighing impatiently, your nerves are slowly being replaced by irritation as you watch the interactions play out in front of you. You’re now close enough to see and overhear. Thankfully with each step you take forward the people in front of  you get what they came here for and they leave, making the hall a little more breathable. 

You’re now watching Homelander as he tends to each fan, all puffed up and high energy to replicate the vision they all have of him but you see how much he wishes to be anywhere but here. Most of the Seven do. Vought plucks them from what most expected to be their duties, like saving the world, and instead they drop them in front of cameras and paying fans. You watch as Homelander signs each piece of merchandise his fans bring him, one after another with a smile on his face.

Having seen part of his real self, or the extension of himself he doesn’t show the media you see the smile for what it is. Placating, empty, downright forced. Were you none the wiser you wouldn’t have thought to look past the showmanship but now you knew better. It was easy to notice his tells, his jaw ticks anytime he’s irritated, his eye twitches anytime he has to hold a smile for too long or anytime he’s forced to compliment someone. You overhear his booming stage-voice going, ‘you look great buddy, wear it better than I do!’ for about the twentieth time. The crowd eats it up, again, and somehow they’re blind to his tortured expression. Sure, he hides it very well but if any of them cared to look underneath the surface it would be glaringly obvious. Instead they look at him like the hero they want him to be. Flawless, perfect, serving their needs. The more you’re privy to this viewpoint the more it grates on you. He’s so much more than that! And you don’t understand how they don’t see it. More than that, you're angry that they willfully don’t want to see it. Why would they ruin the image of a perfect hero they look up to when they don’t care to know the person behind the suit in the first place. 

You shake your thoughts away, focusing on keeping up with the queue. Thankfully the hall has now almost emptied, few residual fans loiter around taking pictures of themselves in their costumes with the Seven members right behind them. As it’s almost your turn, and with that the end of the event, you clumsily pull out a postcard out of your bag clutching it in your hands getting it ready to be signed.

With each step you hear him clearer and clearer. Your heartbeat picks up and by the time the Homelander female cosplayer in front of you gets her very own, ‘you might as well take my spot, you pull it off better than me’, your heart is pounding so hard that you think it must grate on Homelander’s nerves. You rub the glossy paper of the postcard in between your fingers trying to distract yourself from the impending doom that’s bound to be caused by whatever comes out of your mouth. Even after all that’s happened between you two, all that history, you cannot stop yourself from feeling flustered in a situation like this.

You’re so stuck in your head that you don’t realise that the lady in front of you already left and all who’s left is…well, you.

You’re broken out of your trance by a familiar voice.

“Looky, looky, who's here? I can't believe you actually showed up at one of these.” There he goes, grinning like a Cheshire cat as he quickly looks you up and down. Already his eyes are glittering with excitement. Your heart skips a beat at his smile. It's more genuine. You see the annoyance seep out of him, his posture a little more relaxed. 

“Yeah…about that. I thought I couldn't really call myself a fan otherwise right?” You rattle off some lines and your anxious mess of a gut is slowly unravelling to make room for the coil of excitement replacing it. Sure, you’re nervous. How couldn't you be. But the place is nearly empty and there isn't much he could say that would get you as flustered as he did the first time.

“Here for an autograph? The one I gave you before wasn't good enough?” Right. Scratch that. You blush a bright red as the images flood back into your mind. And he's grinning so widely, clearly pleased with how he can so easily make you into a blubbering mess. Even if someone overheard, there’s technically nothing dirty about his words but the shiver they send down your spine along with the vivid imagery is enough to make you feel indecent in a public space.

“No—no! It was, um, great. I just—uh—wanted something a little more permanent.” You quickly look around seeing if anyone caught that interaction as if they could read your mind. Well, you are in a room full of superheroes, who knows what they can or can’t do. Thankfully, it doesn’t appear like anyone is interested in Homelander signing a photo for yet another fan. The rest of the Seven is slowly filtering out of the room, finally relieved of their duty.

“Alrighty-doo, let me sign that for you.” He takes his hand out prompting you to put the postcard in his palm. You do so, giving him a little timid smile. Your hands shake a little as you retreat them back by your sides. Catching the way his eyes linger on the movement you cover your shakiness by clasping your hands together in front of you.

“Is this all you want me to sign? Did you really wait the entire line for that?” He says his eyes squinting incredulously as he waves the postcard with his likeness in front of you. Without waiting for your answers he still places it in front of him reaching for his marker pen.

“What was I meant to bring?” You scrunch your eyebrows with confusion. Sure, you weren’t used to going to these events but you still brought something he could sign, that’s good enough, is it not?

“For starters, something that my signature won’t cover entirely.” 

“It’s fine if it covers it.” You brush off his concerns. Really you didn’t care about the signature as much as you cared about seeing him. So placement be damned.

You look as he uncaps the pen, turning the card around. It’s a photo of him in his hero pose standing against a very patriotic background. Originally it came in a pack of seven postcards, one for each member of the Seven. You don’t want to admit that you were so anxious over deciding whether you would even turn up or not that when it came to the day you forgot to bring an item to sign. Hence the pack of generic postcards you bought on the way when you realised that you forgot just about the most important item. This also turned out to be the reason for your tardiness, you spent way too long in the shop just angsting over the small selection of items you could even pick from. 

“You know it's a real shame you of all people didn't come dressed up. I'd like to see you as Mrs Homelander.” He says all cheeky and amused at the image in his head, while he’s fiddling with his marker pen, trying to start his signature for the third time but the ink has run out.  

“Oh no no no, I couldn't. I don't think it would be a good look on me. I mean nobody can rock the uniform like you do!” The idea of dressing up as him was ridiculous, you couldn’t just take that away from him. He’s more than a circus animal to you.

“You think I rock it?” He gives you a look, clearly fishing for compliments while he lets his voice rumble. He might not be in your ear but you still feel a shiver dance down your spine. You don’t think you’ll ever get over the effect his voice has on you. He just knows how to pull your strings. And what’s a puppet to do if not follow.

“It looks very good on you. The colour brings out your eyes.” You make an awkward gesture, pointing at your dress and then your eyes, as if it wasn’t obvious that those two had the same colour on him. You cringe internally but he always seems endeared by your awkwardness. You think it probably feeds his ego. You’re always such a mess in front of him and he slurps it up.

“Wowie, heavy on the flattery today are we?” He’s fiddling with his marker pen, trying to start his signature for the third time but the ink has run out.  “Oh for fucks sakes.” He tries another two times, the leather of his glove creaking with pressure around the pen. You expect him to snap it in half at this point but he just sighs and recaps the used marker, placing it down. He looks around, his jaw ticking as he mumbles, “where the fuck is Ashley…” He rolls his eyes, muttering something about being surrounded by incompetent idiots as he stands up. 

“Just, come with me, I think there are some spares in my dressing room.” He waves his hand, still holding the postcard in the other one.

“Are you sure? It’s really no big deal!” You feel guilty at the way his suggestion sends a shiver up your spine. You’re not entitled to it but the fantasy of him fucking you in his dressing room still plays out in your mind. 

“Nope, you waited your turn. You know I’m not one to leave my biggest fans empty handed.” He winks at you before he beckons you to follow him. You give a short nod and you scurry behind him like a little duckling, mesmerized by the sway of his cape swishing with each purposeful step. You feel your heart rate rise with every step, just being in his presence is overwhelming and the closer you get to his dressing room the more vivid your fantasy gets.

“Righty-ho,” Homelander says as he opens the door to his dressing room, fiddling around to pick up a spare marker. He presses the postcard against the wall signing it for you with a silver sharpie. You stand in the half open door a little awkwardly. Rather than focusing on him, you’re looking around making sure nobody sees you standing in Homelander’s dressing room. He tears you away from your paranoid thoughts as he hands the card back to you with a sing-songy, “there you go!” 

Your eyes widen and you gingerly take the postcard with a “oh, thank you,” and you gently put it back into your bag, not wanting to smear the ink. Part of you was disappointed that he genuinely took you here for innocent reasons. 

Like the open book you’ve always been to him he reads your facial expressions for what they are barking a laugh at the dumb-struck look you were sporting. “What? Did you think I brought you here to fuck you?” He leans against the doorframe, his tone a little condescending and mean. 

You really do your best to recover but your embarrassed blush and the spike in your heart-rate is such a blatant giveaway of your true thoughts. “N-no! I wouldn’t, of course not.” It doesn’t matter what you say in the moment, it’s not wiping the all-knowing smirk off his face.

“Jesus, you’re so easy, you know that?” His gaze is predatory as he looks you up and down again, this time slowly, reaaally taking you in. Before you know what’s happening he yanks you into the room, closing the door behind you. For all his strength he controls it well as you don’t end up with a dislocated shoulder after a move like that.

He cages you in against the door, leaning close to your ear so he can get his voice nice and low and he whispers, “For that kind of slutty behaviour I definitely need to fuck you.” You can hear the smirk in his voice. You love how easily he reads you, there’s nothing you can hide from and you know that these days, you’re his favourite book. In a way it’s liberating, it removes the thoughts behind actions, it removes the second-guessing. You know that he knows what you want. So you don’t have to make propositions and embarrass yourself further, he’s either gonna take you as he pleases or tell you to get lost. So far it’s always been the former. 

His gloved hand grabs the side of your jaw as he leans back and the woodsy, natural scent of leather whiffs past your nose. His other hand is less stationary, he brazenly glides his hand down your dress, generously palming your tits before he slides down further down your waist and back, settling on your ass. “Gotta teach you a lesson that you shouldn't be spreading your legs for men you don't really know that well.” He growls out tilting your head so he’s directly staring into your eyes with his impossibly piercing blues.

“You’re not just a man.” 

“Mhm you got that right.” He purrs all pleased at the obvious stroke to his ego. You’re all flustered, breathy and eager for him and he loves it. The pure adoration and love you give him so easily just flows through him, feeding that black hole starved for affection inside him.

He didn’t wait a second longer to kiss you, one gloved hand still on your jaw, the other quickly moving up to the back of your head pressing you into him. With a moan he kisses you, already acting like you’ve been starving him this entire time. His kisses are feverish, already hot hot hot as his lips ply yours open. You feel his shaky breath hot against your lips while the plush pillows of his lips are pressing against yours in a frenzy.

You wrap your hands around his neck for support more than anything. You know how he gets. Your heart rate has skyrocketed by now, beating hard and loud in his ears as he presses his tongue in between your lips, already wanting to be in you one way or another.

You part your lips for him just like you’d part your legs and you let him kiss you, heavy, hot and wet as he holds you with almost shaky hands trying to get as much as he can out of you.

His ravenous kisses don’t relax you, they make your body feel tight, wound up, always expecting and wanting more. At this moment you need him as much as he needs you. You grind your body against him with each more pressing and needy kiss. You know he can feel you through his suit, even though it’s handily hiding his hard-on. He still moans when you rub against him, clearly just as wound up as you are.

He pulls away, his eyes no longer that bright piercing blue but now his pupils are blown, his gaze lustful and heavy. His breathing is rough and stuttered. Even though he can’t get winded or tired his body is so strained that he pants for you like a thirsty dog.

Homelander takes his time to calm down, wanting to take control of the situation, he wants you to look up at him with those unsuspecting sweet wide doe eyes while he defiles you. And you do, you look up at him, panting out of actual lack of breath and you stare in reverence. 

There he goes, grinning like a shark again and you’re already waiting for the foul words that he’s undoubtedly going to thoroughly wet your panties with.

“Tell me,” he purrs out, seducing you with his dulcet tones. “How many times did you make yourself cum to my voice, huh?” He’s now leaning into your ear again, knowing this is where the occasional brush of his lips makes your body burn bright and hot. “Or to the memory of my cock inside you?” 

You expect him to be filthy and talk with no filter, it’s his specialty behind closed doors, but it still catches you off-guard. It especially does anytime you’re reminded of the time he utterly ruined you for any other man in your home, in your safe space, in your bed.

“I don’t know—many times. I, um, I lost count.” You don’t know exactly what answer he wants from you but you know that he will turn each and every one against you. His hair tickles the side of your face as he nuzzles into you with a small whimper before continuing. 

“Yeah? Maybe you should show me, do it for me. A little performance as a reward for all that I've done for you.” You hear the restraint in his voice. You know he wants nothing more than to just fuck you, have you fall apart on him. For him. But you also know Homelander loves to play. And he doesn’t want the game to be over yet. “You can do that for me, can’t you?” He goads you with that. Homelander knows just as much as he swallows up all your love and affection; you thrive on being reminded of how much you adore and worship him. How much you’d do anything for him. Anything. 

Homelander pulls back from you, his hands now firmly on your waist as if you were a flight risk.

“What do you mean?” You regain some sense of self after he gives your hot and flushed body a little break. 

“I mean you’re gonna sit your pretty ass in that chair, make yourself cum for me, while I watch.” He guides your body towards the further end of the dressing room where he points at a chair in front of a lit vanity table that’s still littered with make-up and brushes from when his team got him ready for today’s event.

Your body is buzzing with excitement but part of you is still a little embarrassed by such a blatantly open display. He wants you to sit in that chair, spread your legs and give him a perfectly lit view of the way you get yourself off? Yeah, that’s not the easiest thing you’ve ever done. But again, for him, you’ll do anything. 

“Well, what are you waiting for?” He pulls the chair out a bit tilting his head towards it. He looks at you, blatantly undressing you with his eyes. Literally, undressing. You may not physically feel his x-ray vision but the look in his eyes and the way he stops at your tits with a leery smile on his face is very telling. He doesn’t bother to hide how much he ogles, he knows how much it turns you on anyway. “Come on, panties off and hop on.” He clicks his tongue impatiently.

You sneak your hands under your dress and pull the hem of your panties down. You slide them down your legs until they pool at your ankles where you step out of them with your shoes still on.

Homelander chuckles to himself as he picks up the undergarment inspecting the damage. “You’re like a faucet, always fucking dripping wet.” He brings them closer to his face, inspecting the pair of Homelander-themed panties. He inhales the scent of your pussy now that it’s long seeped into the fabric. “I didn’t think these would be salvageable after last time.” He speaks as if he was talking about the weather and not pure debauchery while he indulges in the scent of your cunt.

“I got more pairs.” You said with a shrug as you got into the chair. You had to jump up a little as it was set on the highest setting for Homelander’s viewing pleasure.

You watch as he tosses the panties on the vanity table in front of you. “You’re gonna have to spread those legs some more.” He tuts with his tongue. You spread your legs as wide as you can in the chair and he shakes his head. “No, nope that won’t do either. Legs up on the arm rests.” He commands and as much as you want to comply, even you have your limits.

“I’m not that flexible!” You yelp out in amusement. “Wait!” You exclaim again except this time he easily manoeuvres you around in that chair with his stupid strength and you feel like a pretzel as you’re being pushed into the right position.

He ends up hooking just one of your legs over the armrest letting you rest it against the vanity table and giving you a comfortable enough position but more importantly, giving him a great view. “See, there you go. Flexible enough.” He pulls off his gloves one by one, throwing them on the table, out of view. “Come on, show off for me,” He coos in your ear, his bare hands, hot and smooth, sliding up your legs picking up the hem of your dress on the way as he pulls it up.

You gasp at the view in front of yourself. In the lit mirror in front of you you see yourself spread wide, your pussy easily visible and glistening in the bright light. This might as well be a porn shoot with how well lit and visible all your parts are. As you instinctively start closing your legs Homelander presses your thighs down, barely putting any power into it yet you feel the unyielding strength thrumming through his fingertips.

“Don’t be shy, you know I’ve seen it all.” He tucks the skirt of your dress above your waist and behind your back. Your hand slowly slinks down to rest on the bunched up fabric of your dress.

He straightens up properly standing behind you, his hands land on your shoulders, close to your neck, squeezing softly. He watches you in the mirror. He extends his pointer finger pushing your jaw up so you look up and meet his gaze. “Keep going, spread that pretty pussy for me.” He growls in your ear as his eyes are locked on the way your fingers slide down your slit, your pointer and middle finger spreading your pussy open for him to see. “Just as I said, like a fucking faucet.” He chuckles at the sight of you drenched and dripping.

You blush at the way he’s staring so intently at your reflection. Your fingers tentatively run up and down, gathering the wetness on your fingers, bringing it up to your clit where you rub small, shy circles around it. You’re taut as a bow and struggling to relax.

“Stop thinking and start feeling.” Homelander purrs in your ear. “I know you can do this for me, can’t you?” His voice sends a hot flush down your body, and you feel your clit throb under your fingers.

“Yeah… I can.” You breathe you, closing your eyes for a second to take a deep breath. The tension slowly leaves your body as Homelander presses soft kisses down the side of your face as he leans over to your other side. You let your hand go on auto-pilot trusting it to know what to do. You suck in a sharp breath as he sucks on your jaw, giving it a little nip while you still circle your clit with a soft squelch of your slick.

“There’s my girl.” He watches as you breathe deeply, your eyes finally opening to watch as he descends more kisses down your neck. You shiver at the sensation, pressing in your fingers a little harder, at the right pressure in the right spot. You’re just about to dip lower, push a finger inside your wet, needy hole but Homelander speaks up. “Uh uh, nothing but my cock is going inside that pussy today so keep your fingers on your clit.” Your entire body prickles with heat all over at his words. He’s so brazen and upfront and no matter how many times you hear it it always makes your head spin and pussy throb. 

You nod a simple ‘okay’ and only ever slide your fingers down to collect more of your own slick. Homelander is whimpering with you as if just the sight of your pussy was enough to get him off. For him, it’s intoxicating. His senses enhance the way your slick squelches loud to his ears and the scent of your pussy just makes him want to stop this little game and rail you already. Yet, he’s a patient man when he wants to be. And more so, indulging in his own desperate urge isn’t as fun as watching you submit to him first.

“Eyes open.” Homelander interrupts the thoughts and visuals in your head. Your eyes snap open and you meet his sharp gaze in the mirror. You didn’t even realise you had them closed. “What were you thinking about?” He asks, almost testing you. As if saying, you better not be straying too far from the path he wants you on.

“‘M thinking about you fucking me.” You say meekly, your fingers rubbing at a particular rhythm now that you know will get you off. Your clit is already throbbing, aching under your fingers.

“Getting a bit ahead of yourself missy, first you’ll have to cum for me.” He says nonchalantly while he pushes the strap of your dress and bra down your free arm. As much as you’ve gotten more used to functioning around him, his voice still makes you dizzy, especially when he’s a master at saying the most depraved shit. 

You pause to help him get out of the other set of straps and when your arm goes up to slip out of the strap he gives your slicked fingers a little suck, tasting you with a pleased grin making you flush hot.

While you go back to rubbing your clit Homelander unclasps your bra from behind your back dropping it on the floor and he pushes your dress down, already groaning at the sight of your tits free for his eyes to feast on. He presses his hands against your tits from either side, groaning at the sensation of the plush pillows underneath his hands.

“That's a good girl, keep rubbing that clit.” He growls out an order, yet somehow he looks more frazzled than you while he's not even the one performing. “Open up,” he whispers, his voice frayed at the edges as he presses two fingers against your lips. Obediently, you open up giving them a suck and laving them with your saliva while you keep eye contact with his reflection. He moans at the raunchy display, his eyes glazing over as he pulls his fingers out. With both his hands back on your tits he pinches your nipples, overwhelming you with the different sensation of one being rubbed wet and the other dry. You whine at the sensation, your pussy throbbing with each hot breath you feel against your neck as he tucks his head against it.

He listens to your heart beat like a drum in his ear, while he gives your nipples all his love and attention. He whispers and moans sweet nothings into your ear whilst watching you rub harder and faster finding the perfect rhythm that has cascading heat climb up your spine. “Thaaat’s it, come on—fuuck—come on, you can cum for me. I know you can.” Homelander watches as your muscles tense, seeing your body just ready to snap. What really does you in is the way he’s whimpering like he’s the one getting off. It’s like he’s sharing all the pleasure you're feeling with you.  

You cum with Homelander’s lips whispering against your ear as you hold your breath, your body tense until it finally gives in and you feel the wave of heat and tingling pleasure wash over you from your core to your limbs. “Ohhh god.” You finally release your breath, your chest heaving with the release.

Homelander is less impressed. Clicking his tongue again against the roof of his mouth.

“Mhm that won’t do, you can do better than that. I’ve seen you cum better than that.” 

You barely have the strength to counteract his claim. This was easily one of your strongest orgasms and he’s trying to say that it was weak? Oh please. You shake your head. You know he’s just playing his little game of ‘I can do whatever the fuck I want’ so you let him.

“Come on, up you go,” He says as he pulls you up on your feet all wobbly and numb from the way you were sitting on the chair. He pushes the chair out of the way with enough force that it topples over with a bang. He bends you over the vanity table where you’re up close and personal with the mirror, watching Homelander’s reflection as he hurriedly unzips his pants pushing them halfway down his thighs. 

You can’t see his cock from this angle but you’re sure it’s rock fucking hard and leaking precum with the way he’s panting like a dog in heat. He’s not even in you and he looks about three strokes away from finishing.

“God, fffuck!” He grits out through his teeth before parting his lips letting a long groan out as the tip of his cock parts your folds, immediately finding your soaked hole and pushing inside with one long slide. He huffs and puffs, his head tilted back as he keeps his eyes shut with restraint. His cock is hot and hard inside you, giving your pussy something to quiver around. 

You’re overstimulated, your nerves totally fried and your body has still nowhere recovered from your performance of a lifetime but you still take him in. You push your ass towards him, whimpering yourself as you feel his hands land on your hips, holding you there. “Look at how your pussy just opens up for me. Taking me riiiight in.” Homelander’s voice is strangled and raspy as he hisses air through his teeth.

You whimper at the way his words leave you buzzing and mindless with pleasure. You prop your elbows against the table as he starts fucking you, dragging his cock agonisingly slowly at first as if he was so sensitive he was about to bust. 

Thankfully that gives you some time to recover and your pussy is no longer screaming at you that it’s too much. He gives you more and more with each thrust, letting out a breathy soft moan each time he hits home. Tip to hilt on every slide. 

His boots kick your legs together giving him a tighter, more pronounced feel. That’s where he really starts to pick up speed. He moves his hands up, gripping where the fabric of your dress is still bunched up as he wholeheartedly fucks into you, minding his strength of course, he gives you what you can take and not a drop more.

You’re so deliciously taken in by him that you barely remember where you are and that you reaaally shouldn’t be screaming and moaning at the top of your lungs. Against all odds, your body is still so wired up and wound up that you feel the climbing sensation prickle at your nerves, your legs quivering with each stroke.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Homelander pulls out of you unceremoniously and you whine.

“I was so close!” You pull a displeased face in the mirror, looking at his reflection.

“I know. And so does everyone on the other side of that door.” He mumbles as he picks up the panties he tossed earlier on the table except this time he balls them up stuffing them in your mouth. You protest around them, your eyes widening in shock and your body flushing with indecent heat when you get a remnant of your taste from the soaked fabric.

“I don’t need people barging in to see who’s screaming bloody fucking murder.”

He turns you around, swiftly picking you up and plopping you on top of the vanity table where you’re nicely lit from behind. “Now behave, the door’s not locked. I’d rather not have anyone see you like this. Capiche?” You nod fervently, at this point just doing anything to get him back in you. 

“Good girl.” He coos as he pulls your legs up wrapping his forearms underneath your thighs, his hands gripping the sides for easy control. And just like that he slides back into you. You give muffled little sighs into the fabric of your panties as he fucks you hard against the table, making it rattle on its legs. The littered makeup and brushes were now rolling off and in some cases breaking on impact.

“You’re always so fucking worked up. Just need someone to fuck you don’t you. Poor little fangirl, so obsessed with me she doesn’t even have time to date anyone else.” He gives you a sharp grin, his canines sharp like a predator’s would be. You body flushes with embarrassment at the almost degrading comment and with the way you’re gagged and fucked you feel like Homelander’s personal toy. 

He fucks you until your legs tremble in his hold and your eyes flutter shut with each press of his cock deep inside you.

He slows down with the literally mind-melting grinds of his pelvis against yours and instead he looks you straight in the eyes getting your attention. “Did you learn? Will you be good?” You nod. He takes the panties out of your mouth, leaving the now even more damp fabric back on the table. 

You keep your promise and you keep mainly quiet, biting your lips shut and only letting the occasional whimper out as he strokes a particularly good spot inside you. Instead you let your body do the screaming for you. You shake and tremble around him, all tense and hot and Homelander doesn’t need to hear you scream to know that you’re close.

With your lips free again he captures them, as if he’s been starved this entire time without them. He kisses you deep and wet while he bucks into you, slowly losing his impeccable rhythm as he’s so strung out for an orgasm it’s bound to happen any second.

“Ah—I’m, uh, close…” You nearly whisper out, all strangled and needy. Homelander nods, clearly just as far gone. He lets one of your legs go, instead letting you wrap it around his waist as he places his fingers on your clit, giving you the extra push to the finish line.

He doesn’t wait for you as he cums in the next, one, two, three, strokes. But he pushes through still fucking into you while his cock pumps you full of his load. You cum immediately after, it’s more the thought than the faint feeling of him finishing inside you that just pushes you over the edge. A burst of buzzing fireworks sparks behind your eyelids as you close your eyes shut through the euphoria sinking into your bones. 

You’re panting, catching your breath, moaning your residual finish in small whimpers. “Wow, that was—”

There’s a sharp knock on the door.

“Sir, you’re needed on stage in 10 minutes.” Ashley’s panicked shrill can be heard on the other side of the door and your heart stops for a second before realising it’s her. Ashley knows better than to barge into any rooms ever since Homelander’s shown interest in you. 

“Oh well, there goes the afterglow.” You mumble with a tired laugh. Homelander nods quietly as he tucks himself back in, finally spent and satisfied—for the time being at least.

Homelander looks at you with fond hunger, leaning in for a soft kiss. “Yeah. Sorry I have to cut it short.” He grumbles, displeased, as he nuzzles his face in the junction of your neck.

He pulls away, reaching for your bra and passing it to you so you could make yourself presentable again.

“Tell me, did you actually leave the door unlocked?” You ask. 

“No! I don’t want anyone else seeing you like this. Well. I want you out there with me, just not when you’re freshly fucked. That’s all for me.” He gives you a wide grin, unable to stop himself from peppering you with kisses, capturing your lips again hungry for them as if you’re constantly denying him air. 

“Thank you for today.” He breathes hotly against your lips. “You know how to indulge me, I really didn’t think you’d turn up.” He smiles against you, caving in for another kiss.

“What wouldn’t I do for you?” You say with an amused roll to your eyes, but it’s all light-hearted. He knows you really would do anything for him. 

“I haven’t found that out yet.” He rumbles all pleased as he helps you make sense of the mess he made of your dress.

“And you never will,” You beam at him, your heart pounding again but this time it’s just from that overwhelming love you have for him, the butterflies that don’t seem to ever calm down in his presence. Even though you’ve been secretly together for a couple of months ever since the fated phone call, the excitement hasn’t even begun waning yet. 

“Hey, you know, you’re a really great actress. Had me sold quite a few times. Maybe I should get Vought to cast you in a movie alongside me, huh?” He grins as he picks up his gloves, pulling them over his hands again. 

You have to laugh. Sure, you’ve enjoyed role-playing as the obsessed fan that you were a few months ago but it wasn’t all acting. 

“I wasn’t acting! Well, obviously I did with the ‘I don’t know what’s gonna happen’ part but beyond that I was really nervous to be with you like that in a public place. You know how I get. It’s not that I don’t want to be with you publically, it’s just a huge adjustment. So… baby steps.” You finally adjust your dress though you still very much look like you just got railed. 

“Come ooon, let me make you mine officially. Fuck this sneaking around. The people who need to know, know. The rest is not important.” He presents you with his sweet honeyed voice, and he’s cheating really, he knows how much it affects you.

In a way, he’s right. The people who matter at Vought know about you seeing as you’re up at his place every other day but there was something terrifying about announcing to the entire world that you were Homelander’s girlfriend. That’s nothing easy to get used to. He’s not just a celebrity. He is the celebrity. You will have to say bye-bye to the comforts of a private life. But maybe that’s all worth it for him. 

“Okay. How about you go do your job and I go do mine and when you see me for dinner we can talk about it again. Sounds good?” You said as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for another sweet kiss.

“Sounds good." He repeats before continuing with a fond, "I love you,” which always comes out a little strained. He’s never been able to say it without letting himself drown in the endless pool of emotions that are just swirling around inside him. 

“I love you too. Now go before Ashley has a heart attack. You’re already late.” You kiss him sweetly, adjusting his hair, making it look more purposefully-tousled, less ‘sex-hair’. You let him go, smoothing your hand down his suit. 

“Oh please, I’m the Homelander. Does the party really even start without me there?” He blows a raspberry into the air with a scoff.

“Sure doesn’t, babe.” You shake your head, amused as you watch him wave you off and shut the door behind himself.

You took the time to make yourself look more presentable but you couldn’t leave the room in the state you both left it in. So you collected the things that fell, you wiped the surfaces clean and you trashed whatever broke on the way. It’s the least you could do.

You looked into the mirror, almost not recognising the woman you’ve become over the past few months. Being someone who feeds off your endless adoration has done wonders for your confidence. You no longer feel crazy and obsessive. You’ve finally found someone who’s never gonna have enough of you. Someone who inhales your love like the oxygen he needs to breathe.

You revere Homelander less as an icon and more as a person, as a partner, these days. You know so much more of who he is now and strangely, while he scares others, you’ve never felt safer in his presence. Something about you two just clicks. It’s no wonder he wants to show you to the rest of the world. He wants to lock you in, have people forever associate with him.

And soon enough, there will be no way out.

[Part 3]

Taglist (you can add yourself to be notified anytime I publish a new Homelander story): @morishitoshi

[thewitchandtheassassin]

Honest (Agatha Harkness x Reader)

Summary: “Lady, I’m the manager and the only employee today. Get the hell out of my store.”

Words: 1070

Warnings: Language, suggestiveness??

A/N: I hate that lady and wish Rio had punted her into the sun. That's all.

-X-

From the moment you noticed the white-haired woman storming towards your counter, you knew you were in for a horrible interaction. Plastering a fake, cheerful smile, you greeted her.

“Good afternoon! Did you -”

“This place is a dump,” she hissed, slamming her goods onto the counter. “If my daughter was working in this place at your age, I would disown her. Are your parents proud of you?”

Blinking at her owlishly, you bristled with choked back fury. Truthfully, this wasn’t your normal job - nor was this your only job - but you were covering a shift for your mother, who’d taken your father to the hospital but couldn’t afford to close the small “mom and pop” shop. Being here was a favor, not your career, but some old, miserable bitch didn’t deserve your explanations and you weren’t going to dictate a dissertation of your life to a complete stranger.

“Do you need anything else?” you asked brusquely, scanning the few items before placing them in paper bags.

“Oh god, are you one of those hippies who forces paper over plastic? Get over it. Give me something that isn’t going to rip!” she hissed, digging out her wallet before her eyes go wide at the total. “With such horrible service, you’re still going to charge me that without some sort of compensation for my treatment? I’m certain you have some coupons or sale codes back there that you can use to fix your terrible mistakes. My god, do you need a roadmap?”

“H-horrible service? Ma’am, I…” you paused, looking at the stuff tucked into bags before shaking your head. You’d rather offer your parents money than accept this woman’s cash. “Get out.”

“I beg your pardon?” she sputtered, eyes narrowing in a manner you were certain she used to intimidate teenagers at the supermarket. “You can’t speak to me like this! I want your manager.”

Sliding the bags out of reach, you glared at her with unbridled disdain. “Lady, I’m the manager and the only employee today. Get the hell out of my store.”

“How dare you! I’ve been coming here for years! I’m good friends with the owner and when he hears about this…”

Your snort cut through her ramblings. “Oh, you know him, huh? Well, I’ll be sure to let my mother know her ‘good friend’ came in here acting like a rude, entitled, demented demon from the pits of hell instead of a civilized human being so that she knows to bar you from the shop. Anything else I can do for you before I call the sheriff - an actual good friend - to come escort you off the property?”

Mouth agape, you’d never seen a grown woman look so aghast before and truthfully, you didn’t give a shit. You weren’t some fresh-faced eighteen year old she could push around and bully.

Someone needed to tell her a thing or two and good news, you had the time and the attitude to do just that.

“I need those -“

Slamming your hand onto the counter, your smile grew unsettlingly wide. “Well, bless your heart, guess you better go find somewhere else to get ‘em, huh?”

-X-

After your interaction with the woman the day before, you had little interest in keeping the shop open for your mother another day, but as she tearfully explained she couldn’t return until the next morning, you swallowed your distaste and did as she asked.

“It’s one more day,” you mumbled to yourself, forehead resting in your hand as you sat on the lone stool. “Just one more day.”

You had nearly dozed off when the bell above the door signaled the arrival of your only patron so far. Glancing up, you greeted the dark-haired woman with a faint smile and wave.

“Howdy, how can I help you?”

The woman slid her sunglasses up to the top of her head, pursing her lips in an odd way that had you singling in on the softest looking mouth you’d ever seen. She was beautiful and mysterious and goddammit, you were so gay.

“Do you happen to know who was working yesterday?” she inquired, earning a slow brow arch.

“Yeah…” you drawled out slowly, carefully. “It was me.”

“Oh thank god, I’m glad you’re not some sad teenager who cried after she left,” she muttered, eyes locking on yours. “You had the unfortunate displeasure of speaking with my mother yesterday and I came to apologize. Not so much for her sake, but for my own because your shop sells fabulous face care products I can’t get anywhere else in this godforsaken town and I do not want to end up banned from here.”

Blinking slowly, you nodded after a moment. “Uh, yeah, no, you’re fine. I never woulda guessed she was your mother. She always like that?”

“Cantankerous and miserable? Yes. Has been my whole life.”

“Christ, I feel bad for you,” you blurted, eyes widening instantly as she began to cackle. “Uh, sorry, that was supposed to stay in my head.”

Her lips curled into a wicked smile and it left your insides full of butterflies.

“I like a girl who’s honest,” she teased, offering a hand. “Agatha Harkness.”

You shook her hand, marveling in the smooth skin as you absently gave your name in return. You couldn’t help the way your eyes drifted to her lips before fluttering back up to her gaze.

“I saw that little glance - you’re not as sneaky as you think,” Agatha purred, delighting in the warmth that flooded your cheeks. “What time do you get off… work?”

Glancing at the clock, 5:23 stared back at you tauntingly. The place had been dead all day and at this point, you were just wasting electricity.

Throwing caution to the wind, you shrugged, smirking at Agatha conspiratorially. “Right now if someone gives me a good enough reason.”

“How about you buy me a drink as an apology for my horrible childhood and if it goes well, maybe I’ll find a way to thoroughly apologize for all the trouble you went through yesterday?”

The sparkle in her eye and the way she stared at your lips pointedly for a moment left your heart racing, beating like horse hooves against your ribs. You were nodding before you even realized it, running through your mental checklist for closing the store.

“Give me ten minutes.”

-X-

You closed it in six.

[latexb0n3z]

Unrequited Love, Lots Of Blow, and a Visit From Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man

CW; self-harm, sexual mentions, drug use, mental illness yadayadayada.

This was kind of a vent in some weird way. Crashed out earlier and had to write something to cope.

Logan woke up to the sound of something(s) shattering. Again.

“Goddammit, Wade,” he muttered, dragging himself off the couch. It wasn’t even 8 AM, and his roommate was already tearing through the place like a tornado.

Roommate. Logan still wasn’t sure how the hell that had happened. Wade had been crashing at his place “just for a few days” six months ago, and somehow, he’d never left. Logan had considered kicking him out more times than he could count, but something about the mercenary’s manic energy—and the raw, broken humanity underneath it—kept him from following through.

Logan pushed open the door to Wade’s bedroom, which looked like a war zone. Clothes, weapons, and takeout containers were scattered everywhere, and Wade stood in the middle of it, panting, holding the remnants of a lamp in his hand.

“Morning, sunshine,” Logan grunted. “What’s this about?”

Wade didn’t look at him. His face was bare, his scars catching the dim morning light. “It was an ugly lamp anyway.” The more Logan looked, the more was wrong. There was blood, literally everywhere. The bathroom mirror was broken, glass and MORE blood everywhere— the living room was a disheveled mess, a broken bottle of Jack, and a shattered cup like Wade had just grabbed the first thing that was near.

Logan crossed his arms. “You gonna tell me what’s really going on, or should I start charging you for broken furniture?”

Wade flinched, then dropped the lamp base to the floor with a clatter. “What’s the point, huh? You don’t care.”

Logan frowned. “You think I’d let you live here if I didn’t care?”

Wade laughed, sharp and bitter. “Let’s not kid ourselves, Logan. You let me stay because you feel sorry for me. Big, bad Wolverine, taking pity on the ugly stray.” He gestured to himself. “Well, guess what? I don’t need your charity! I’ll leave— and like you said, it’s ‘God’s best joke that I can’t die’ and it’s on all of us!” Even though dying is all he wished he could do.

Logan stepped forward, his voice low and steady. “This about the girl?”

That did it. Wade’s head snapped up, his eyes blazing. “Oh, so you did notice. Good for you, Sherlock.” He took a shaky breath, his words spilling out in a torrent. “Yeah, it’s about her- and everything else- and- and, It’s about how you’ve been all smiles and soft eyes around her. How you go out on these little dates, come home smelling like flowers and happiness or whatever the hell normal people do!”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “You jealous?”

Wade barked out a laugh, but it sounded more like a sob. “Oh, I’m so jealous, Logan. Not because I want her or anything—God, no. I’m jealous because she’s… she’s normal. She’s pretty, and soft, and someone you could actually care about.”

His voice cracked, and his hands clenched into fists. “Not like me. Not like this.” He gestured to his scarred face, his mismatched, worn-down body. “You could never like something like me, right, Logan?”

Logan stared at him, his expression unreadable. For a moment, the room was silent except for Wade’s heavy breathing, his manic pacing, his sniffles.

“You done?” Logan finally asked.

Wade blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“I said, are you done?” Logan stepped closer, his voice gruff but calm. “Because if you’re waiting for me to tell you you’re wrong, I’m not gonna do it.”

Wade’s face crumpled, but Logan kept going.

“You’re a pain in the ass, Wade. You’re loud, and messy, and half the time, I don’t know whether to strangle you or buy you a drink.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “But you’re wrong about one thing. I don’t let you stay here because I feel sorry for you. I let you stay because you’re worth putting up with.”

Wade looked up, his eyes glassy. “You’re just saying that to make me stop crying and breaking things!”

Logan snorted. “Trust me, I’m not the type to say things I don’t mean. And I don’t give a damn what you look like.”

Wade swallowed hard, his hands shaking. “I don’t believe you.”

Logan grabbed him by the shoulders, his grip firm but not unkind. “Then believe this: If I didn’t want you here, you wouldn’t be here. Got it?”

Wade nodded slowly, his breath hitching.

“Good,” Logan said, letting go and stepping back. “Now clean this mess up before I start charging you for rent.”

But Wade didn’t move and inch. He just looked down at the floor, and cried and cried. He just stood there, vulnerable, without any quips or witty comments to defend himself. Logan thought it was a pain in the ass, but he was still himself— empathetic no matter just how much he wanted to just tell the son of a bitch to get out.

“Wade?” He was sort of at a loss for words. Wade having outbursts wasn’t anything new— but just… standing there, crying. That was a sight to behold. His expression dropped,

“You have no idea, Logan.”

“You think you’re special, bub? I’ve been alive for two-hundred fucking years. I saw the invention of machine guns for one. You have no fucking clue what ideas I have, Wade.”

Wade finally looked up at him, his milky, yellowed eyes glazed over.

“Do you think I’m hideous?”

“What? I just said I don’t give a shit what you look like.”

“That wasn’t my question. I didn’t ask if you cared- I asked if I’m hideous.”

Logan gave him a once over. Wade already had the answer made up in his mind regardless of what Logan said.

He didn’t think Wade was hideous, but he wasn’t attracted to him by any means.

“Okay, Wade! Yes, fine, you’re hideous— that’s what you wanna hear right?! Seems like you’ve already made up your damn mind about the answer.”

Wade gave a half smile, and then just turned on his heel and left, slamming the door so hard it made the whole apartment vibrate.

—

And then weeks passed, and Wade never returned. He’d left all his things there, and Logan considered throwing them out after a while. He’d even left his mask on the couch, which Wade never left without.

Annie was her name, the girl. Soft, brown eyes and strawberry blonde hair, and a round face full of freckles. She wore blouses and skirts, and wedges with white little bows on top.

And Logan liked her. Loved her even. Fell for her harder than he’d wanted to. At first their relationship was casual— cute little dates that made Logan feel normal. And the best part— she was a mutant too. It was nothing impressive, mild telekinetic abilities. She could lift small objects from across the room and shut doors without touching them.

She was peaceful, and domestic and a soft body to lay on. He felt safe with her. She’d spend nights at his place since Wade had left- cooked food for him and let him rest his head on her lap while he stroked his head. Things had gotten serious between them in the weeks Wade had been gone.

They had hot, passionate, electrifying sex- made each other laugh so hard they cried and kissed- and then had more sex. Logan would take her against the counter, in the bathroom, on the couch, in the bedroom. Parts of their lives mingled together. Some of his stuff stayed at her place, and parts of her lived at Logan’s. It was unlike anything he’d had in a long long time.

Meanwhile Wade had been doing as much blow as possible and fucking off. Logan wasn’t the only one who hadn’t heard from him. Nobody had. He was torturing himself. He knew he couldn’t die, but he could feel pain. One night he’d played Russian roulette with himself off so much coke it would kill a normal human. He savored what intoxication he could get from alcohol for a couple minutes before the joy was killed by his healing factor.

He’d shoot himself in the head, blow his brains out only to come right back with only half the memories. He’d slit his own throat to choke and watch his ever replenishing blood gush out. He’d cut his fingers off one by one after each line, only to watch them grow back after a couple of hours.

He hadn’t showered in weeks, and smelled like death, blood and straight ass. He didn’t change his clothes, didn’t speak to anyone. Just restarted the same routine he did when Vanessa died. Trying to kill himself but never really dying.

Oh how he missed her. He wondered what she would say to him now, what she would think of who he was. He wondered if she’d be horrified seeing him, or if she’d have loved him anyway. He’d escaped the Weapon X program only to find out from Weasel that she’d been shot and robbed while hooking after he’d disappeared.

He’d had a couple years to reconcile with that… only to fall in love with Logan. What a fucking idiot he was, right?

Unrequited— though he knew Logan had considered him… sort of a friend.

Wade knew he was a pain in the ass, and pissed himself off too most of the time.

It didn’t matter though. He was hundreds of miles away from his life now, taking his shit show all the way to New York City, in the good old United States of America.

—

The New York alley smelled like garbage and rain, a mixture Wade found oddly comforting. The dumpster beneath him was cold and sticky in a way he didn’t want to think too hard about, but it didn’t matter. He was home. Or something like it.

He lay flat on his back, arms spread out like he was trying to make a snow angel on the grimy metal surface. His mask was half-pulled up, just enough to let him belt out an off-key rendition of Total Eclipse of the Heart.

“There’s nothing I can dooooo… a total eclipppse of the heaaaart!” he howled, his voice echoing through the narrow alley.

Somewhere nearby, a rat squeaked in protest.

“You’ve got an audience,” came a voice from above.

Wade froze mid-note, craning his neck back to see a familiar figure hanging upside down by a thin strand of webbing. The bright red-and-blue suit was unmistakable.

“Spidey!” Wade gasped, sitting up so fast he nearly fell off the dumpster. He was hopped up on cocaine, meth, angel dust, anything he’d managed to get his hands on tonight. “My second-favorite insect-themed hero! What brings you to my garbage palace?”

Spider-Man tilted his head, his mask’s lenses narrowing. “You’re laying on a dumpster and singing power ballads. Should I be concerned, or is this just a Tuesday for you?”

“Wednesday, actually,” Wade corrected, wagging a finger. “And I’m celebrating my triumphant return to the Big Apple! Came here with nothing but a bag of cash and a dream. And maybe some mild emotional baggage. But mostly the cash.”

Spider-Man flipped down to the ground, landing lightly. “I’m pretty sure that was illegal cash.”

“What isn’t, these days?” Wade said, waving him off. “Besides, it’s not like I’m hurting anyone. Unless you count your ears.”

Spider-Man crossed his arms. “You’re avoiding the question. Why are you really here, Wade?”

Wade leaned back against the dumpster, sighing dramatically. “You wouldn’t understand. It’s a tale as old as time. Boy meets mutant, mutant moves in, mutant gets jealous of said boy’s weirdly functional romantic life and flees to New York to sulk in an alley and reevaluate his choices.”

Spider-Man blinked. “Okay, wow. That’s… more personal than I expected.”

“Yeah, well, welcome to the Deadpool Show.” Wade gestured broadly at himself. “We like to keep things raw and unscripted. Keeps the audience engaged.”

Spider-Man crouched down, resting his elbows on his knees. “Look, I know we don’t… vibe exactly, but you seem like you’re going through something. Do you need help?”

Wade laughed, a sharp, hollow sound. “Oh, Spidey, my sweet, built like a gymnast summer child. I’m beyond help. I’m like a car that’s been totaled, set on fire, and then run over by a tank. But thanks for asking.”

“You’re not that bad,” Spider-Man said, though his tone was hesitant.

“Aw, you think I’m redeemable,” Wade said, clutching his chest. “You’re adorable! Like a little web-slinging therapist.”

“Seriously, Wade. You don’t have to do… this,” Spider-Man said, gesturing to the dumpster and the alley. “Whatever’s going on, there’s got to be a better way to deal with it than running away and singing ‘80s ballads in the rain.”

“It wasn’t raining when I got here,” Wade pointed out. “But, fine, I’ll bite. What do you suggest, Dr. Spidey?”

Spider-Man hummed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know. Maybe talk to the person you’re running from instead of hiding out here. Have an actual conversation.”

Wade snorted. “You think I’m the ‘talking about my feelings’ type? Adorable. Really, top marks for optimism. I already tried- got blood all over the poor guys’ apartment and broke his mirror… Oh- you know Wolverine- Wolvie- Logan? Yeah he’s alive again and I haaaave itttt bad, Spidey.”

Spider-Man sighed. “Wolverine… like? Like… The X-men’s Wolverine? He died! How the hell is he alive again?— wait, don’t tell me he came from a different universe or something.”

Wade tilted his head, clicked his tongue and made finger guns, “Ding Ding Ding! That’s exactly right.” He dropped his hands but remained looking up, studying Spider-Man for a long moment. “You’re way too good for this city, you know that? It’s like watching a Disney protagonist in Gotham.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Spider-Man said dryly.

Wade slid off the dumpster, landing with a flourish. “Fine. You win. I absolutely cannot go back to Canada anytime soon but— I will try to stop doing massive amounts of narcotics and cutting off my limbs are even though they just regrow.”

“You’re really a strange guy, you know that, Wade?”

“Yes— quite intimately actually. Very large part of the reason I’m torturing myself out here in the good old United States of America.”

Spider-Man rolled his eyes. “Quit your sulking, grab my hand.”

Wade raised a… well… what would be his eyebrow if he had any, but said, “Fuck it,” and took his hand.

Suddenly, he was suspended in the air, wind whipping past his ears as they swung through the towering skyline of New York. Wade let out a loud, exaggerated scream. “OH MY FUCK, SPIDEY, THIS IS THE CLOSEST I’VE BEEN TO FLYING SINCE THAT TIME I STRAPPED FIREWORKS TO MY BACKPACK!”

“Why does that not surprise me?” Spider-Man shouted back, his voice barely audible over the rush of the wind.

“BECAUSE I’M AN ICON OF CHAOS!” Wade cackled, twisting his body mid-swing to strike a pose, one hand outstretched dramatically. “LOOK AT ME! I’M PETER PAN BUT WITH MORE TRAUMA!”

Spider-Man groaned. “Do you ever stop talking?!”

“Do you ever stop being an uptight boy scout?” Wade shot back.

Spider-Man didn’t dignify that with an answer, instead twisting midair and flinging a web to the next building. The sudden shift sent Wade swinging wildly, his legs flailing.

“Whoa, whoa, WHOA!” Wade yelled, clutching Spider-Man’s arm like a terrified cat. “Careful there, Spandex Man! Some of us are delicate flowers who bruise easily!”

“You literally can’t die,” Spider-Man said, exasperated.

“Emotionally, Spidey!” Wade quipped. “Emotionally!”

Spider-Man sighed, expertly landing on a rooftop and depositing Wade less-than-gently on the gravel.

Wade sprawled out on his back, catching his breath. “That was either the most fun I’ve ever had, or I’m having a stroke. Maybe both.”

Spider-Man stood over him, hands on his hips. “You’re impossible.”

“Ha! Logan says that too!” Wade sat up, pulling his mask back down. “So, what’s the plan, boss? You didn’t just web-nap me for a heart-to-heart, did you?”

Spider-Man crossed his arms. “I didn’t exactly plan this. But you’re clearly in a mood, and I figured some fresh air might knock some sense into you.”

“Aw,” Wade cooed, “you do care about me! Admit it. I’m growing on you, like a sexy barnacle.”

“Don’t push it.”

Wade leaned back on his hands, glancing out at the city below. The lights of New York twinkled like stars, and for a rare moment, he was quiet.

“…It’s kind of nice up here,” he said after a beat.

Spider-Man sat down beside him, still keeping a cautious distance. “Yeah. It is.”

They sat in companionable silence for a while, the noise of the city far below fading into the background.

Finally, Wade broke the silence. “You ever feel like you’re just… too much? Like you’re this big, messy disaster that everyone tolerates but no one really wants around?”

Spider-Man glanced at him, surprised by the sudden vulnerability. “I think a lot of people feel like that sometimes., and trust me, you’re definitely a disaster. But… you don’t have to be.”

Wade turned to him, his tone light but his voice just a little too tight. “Wow, Spidey, you’re really laying on the compliments tonight. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to seduce me.” He said, sarcastically.

Spider-Man rolled his eyes. “Okay, and we’re back to that.” He blushed under his mask, a bit bashful. Everything was an innuendo to Wade somehow.

“Hey,” Wade said, nudging him with his elbow. “Thanks for this. The swing, the chat, the unsolicited life advice… it’s nice to know someone’s got my back, even if you are a dork in pajamas.”

Spider-Man smirked under his mask. “Anytime, Wade. Just… try not to end up sulking on a dumpster again, okay?”

“What a sweetie pie you are, Peter.”

“How the hell do you know my name? It’s not like yours is a secret… but I thought I was doing a good job at this secret identity thing…”

“I’m a mercenary, I know everything even if I don’t want to.”

Peter huffed. “That’s not an answer but… okay, Wade.”

Wade huffed and then tried to push his luck.

“I don’t suppose your kindness extends past swinging… like- a place to-“

“Absolutely not.”

“Oh come onnnnn! I thought you were all about being helpful.”

“Hey- I’m all for giving a little support but how do I know you won’t just break my stuff too?”

“One night?”

Peter bit his bottom lip under his mask in thought.

“Ugh, you’re such an ass. Give you an inch and it turns into a mile.”

Wade just stared at him, expecting.

“Fine! One night and then you’re back to whatever you have been doing.”

[bigsoftmarshmallow]

what exactly has trump done to warrant death??

you'd think he'd was attempting some sort of genocide, but all i've seen of him that could be considered bad is that he runs his mouth.

i'm honestly just really concerned by the amount of eagerness for blood that i'm seeing and i really don't want to believe that you're a homicidal person.

trump wasn't the only one hurt here. other people were hurt. and one of which may have been killed. and that isn't even counting the shooter themself.

this hate is... it's just toxic...

Normally I'm a lot nicer and able to explain better about things when asked, but when it comes to trump....

I'm painfully human, Anon. I have seen this wretched pile of shit rile people up, causing those weak minded and easily manipulated to do incredibly messed up shit. He may not have done it himself, but he is just as guilty and he disgusts me for what he causes people to do. He isn't a good human. He straight up said he would fuck his daughter if they weren't related. His own family tells of how he only looks out for himself. He makes people do such vile things, and is part of a party that hates the people I love. His antics cause nothing but mayhem. He may be a figure head, but he is the face of those who hate and cause harm and death to those I love and care about. To the disabled, to the LGBTQ+, to women, to those who are victims of sexual assault and rape and those trapped.

I'm genuinely not homicidal, but the gods know my rage and this is the best way to let it out.

I know Jesus and so many other religions say to turn the other cheek, to love thy neighbor, to do no harm, but goddammit I have a limit! I am a mortal human who is flawed, thus I can hate and wish for someone's harm. I'm very far from perfect.

In all honesty, I think this was a stunt. It was something that happened to Reagan back when he was gunna lose, and surviving an "assassination" will bolster his numbers and, unfortunately, rally people to his cause. I know someone died, but the government doesnt give a shit. These are the same people who stormed the capital on Jan 6th. You think they give any sort of shit for people if it will help their lord and savior- THE ANTICHRIST -Trump? Nope. Its a stunt. Propaganda. May that poor human rest in peace, unknowing they were fodder for Trump's cause. May god have mercy on their soul. Which God? That's for them to find out.

I won't apologize for my stance on this. I don't wish Republicans harm, but Trump is no Republican. A true Republican wouldn't put up with his nonsense. I fear the only reason republicans work with him is for the votes and publicity. Just as his sister said, Trump is out for Trump. Trump doesnt give a shit about you, and he certainly doesnt give a shit about me. He doesnt give a shit about any of his fans or cult followers. He cares for himself.

They shouldn't have missed.

[victortaylors-princess67-24]

Hey dad, I'm missing you so much right now. I've been crying off and on so much. Watching certain movies makes me cry, gods... I feel like a mess. heh. TJ has been taking care of me as best as he can, I’m having sushi for dinner. Heh. It’s odd, we’ll never have sushi together again. But every time I eat it I think about the first time we ever had sushi together. It took you forever to convince me to try it haha… Now I love it, especially the raw sushi.

Now every time I have sushi I will think of you, Christ this is so hard…. Now that you’re gone I have so much to say to you…. Like the Seahawks have won two games so far!! And… you can finally see the games… best seats in the world….everything reminds me of you now… I’m constantly thinking about you. I can’t listen to certain songs anymore because I burst into tears, or I start laughing then start crying…

Uncle Floyd sent me some really cool pictures of you!!! From when you visited Washington! TJ upscaled them as best as he could.

Here’s you, Floyd, and your mom Bonnie!! Floyd was looking through all of his pictures and was telling me about the visit. He thinks you were either 18 or 19 in this photo. So about ‘83-‘84. Not sure, but gods listening to him talk about the fun you had. Your first time on a ferry, or by the coast…. He wishes that he was a better brother to you.

But I told him that he was, and that no matter how little or how much he talked to you. You still loved him and cherished every single conversation with him. Even if it was through facebook haha. Cause I know you did, Floyd wishes he was a better uncle to us kids too. But I told him that he was doing his best. And that’s all us kids could ever ask of him as well. But he did tell me that he will step up more, and check in on us as his working season comes to a close. He misses you so much, his words and I quote “of course Vic has to go and pull this just as I’m just getting over our mom passing… goddammit victor…I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you more… I love you brother…”

He called me last night, and we cried together for a little bit. That’s what he said…. He sounded so heartbroken dad…. And slightly tipsy haha but he’s been trying not to drink as much as he usually does. Which I’m proud of him for that, I really am. I on the other hand kinda relapsed on my drinking…. In my defense! I didn’t have any weed. And Cameron offered me a six pack of Seagram’s. So I got a little tipsy myself, not drunk drunk like I would normally get when I’m depressed. But I haven’t touched alcohol since that Saturday night before your wake. So I’m proud of myself for that, and I’m sure you’d understand why I did that.

I can’t believe that tomorrow will be a week since your wake…. It doesn’t even feel real… it really doesn’t. It fucking sucks!!! I keep seeing your facebook account being active and it makes my heart lurch. I know it’s Kim, and it’ll be that way until your page is memorialized…. But it hurts seeing it active… like it gets my hopes up? I don’t know how else to put it…. Ugghhh I feel like I lost a little piece of myself when you passed… like there’s a little hole in my heart…

This is the only thing that makes me feel better, other than my partners and family. I love you so much daddy. So very very much. I’ll talk to you later. Tomorrow for sure!!! Toodles!

[asherdawg]

yea ok do what you like with this

God, I loved her. She was the most gorgeous woman I've ever met. She was sweet and nice. I loved her, truly. She was a sublime beauty. She was the best experience of my life. She had been blessed by Aphrodite, Aniwaa, Nefertem, and every fucking God there is out there. She was like a kiss from Mother Nature come to life. She was everything.

Maybe if I was normal, she'd still be here with me. Kissing my cheek and smiling sweetly at me. Telling me some silly joke. I always laughed at them, and I'd say it's not funny. If I could go back, I'd tell her her jokes are sweet.

Haha, goddammit.

You'd think my love for her was platonic, but I think I genuinely loved her. I don't care about sexuality, I loved her. Fuck. She was beautiful with makeup on, and with tears rolling down her face. She was beautiful when she smiled. She was beautiful. Fuck, man.

And maybe if I could have loved her better, I could tell her how I feel about her. Maybe if I was normal, then I wouldn't have to do this.

So if there's one thing I still feel for her, it's love.

I fucking hate myself for not being able to keep her with me. She had so much life in her eyes, fuck, and she was destined to live as a fucking queen. 

I guess some people have all or nothing mindsets.

Fuck.

I wish I could have kissed her again, told her how much I love her again, hugged her, told her I was there for her, something. I'm so fucking stupid. Fucking dammit. I don't feel bad about talking about my experiences with her, honestly. I don't feel bad about referencing her. I feel bad, though, when I see something she liked. My sweater she loved to wear. God, it looked so nice on her. Her favourite song. I don't know. It was my fault, I know it. I'm a terrible man. She is the only person who I ever could care for that much. I wish I could've married her. Fuck. Okay. This is so fucking stupid. (I guess it's better than what I usually do.) I'm writing as if I can apologise somehow.

I haven't stopped shaking yet

I think I'll have a cigarette

Fuck man I love her

And if you're reading this and feeling bad about how I referenced her saying how i should write about her, it's okay, i think

i dont know but she always liked when I'd make art in her name

and even if its basing a horrible relationship off her where the dude doesn't love the chick

It's okay that's probably how it was anyways

[mmmlonely]

This is so fucking dumb I shouldn't ever have to say that I need her. But I do. God fucking dammit I need her so bad it's stupid. Why couldn't I have just been a guy, one with an actual fucking dick, everything could be so much easier and I could get rid of all these stupid irritable feelings by myself and think nothing of it but nooooooo god hates me. I get to sit here and cry because I'm fucking horny goddammit and there's nothing I can do about it because acknowledging the fucking not-penis organ I have even exists makes me so so fucking uncomfortable I can't even explain it in words I feel like I'm gonna throw up from even thinking about it. I fucking wish I was exaggerating. The dysphoria is so so fucking real dude I hate this. But guess what else is real?? The fucking horny. Go Away goawaygoawaygoawaygoawaygoaway I'm gonna rip all my organs out. I just want to fuck her, man. She could fix me fr. One of my old friends told me I've probably been sexually frustrated for years and yeah! They were probably right. It could fix So Much in my brain if those hormones quit building up for 5 minutes. I just wanna fuck her is that so much to ask for god. Like actually, normally, With A Dick. And of course I say all this but the second I actually get the chance to do stuff with her I freeze up oh boo hoo childhood trauma no more horny when I actually should be. Not to mention the autism and being unable to read any social cues in that type of hella vulnerable situation (or even worse, catching every single cue but having no idea how to respond to them because I'm panicking so I just don't respond at all! And I have enough sense to recognize I should be doing something but not enough to know What!) Just kill me goddammit

[crmsnmth-journal]

1/30/2024

9:57 PM

I can't get her out of my head again. Not like the normal background noise that is those memories, but actually thinking of her. I hope her life turned out great, and I hope she's happy. I miss talking to her. And I wish we could reconnect. Not as lovers. I understand that that is dead. I'd never do it again. I really doubt I could handle losing her twice. I wouldn't survive that pain again. But I wish we still talked, or were connected on Facebook still. Something. Just to say hi. Remember me? And to warn her of my book. If I can't find a publisher, then I'll become the publisher. No matter what, I'm getting my story out there.

I had therapy today. I wish I could say it was doing something, but it's not right now. At all. It's just me being angry for an hour. Angry at nothing. Angry at everything. Angry at god. I still want to know what horrible thing I did for the last decade of my life to be as fucking miserable as they've been. I know I had some bad karma, but from the loss of D, to the death of my father, life sucks. It's a fucking joke now. I'm going to die alone. And I'm scared that that doesn't actually scare me. Not anymore. She'll always be the one that got away. Goddammit...I'd give anything just to get a hello. There's no way in hell I could reach out. I'm sure I was a disappointment. Although her ex-husband seemed to turn out to be a problem too, or they wouldn't have gotten divorced. I wish they didn't. I wish she had been right to go to him instead of me. I wish her life was nothing but perfect. And I feel I have to stay away. But that doesn't mean I don't fantasize about getting a message or a request or anything just to show that maybe sometimes she does think of me. That weird punk bastard with way too many stories and no real motovation. Even though I was a pretty shitty person, a liar, about everything, I was happy for a while there. Really happy. I should've died then.

Bro's gettin' scared.

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 121

All Dogs Go to Heaven/The End of Time Part 2

“All Dogs Go to Heaven”

Plot Description: Sent to investigate an apparent werewolf attack, Dean and Sam follow the clues to a mother and son with an unusual dog

(FINALLY someone listed Dean first. It is his birth right as the elder sibling)

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: probably not. Guy didn’t stand a chance, and he didn’t make any horrifically stupid mistakes

Crowley is fucking ruthless

I love the boys being absolutely RUDE, downright INSULTING to the cops while posing as feds

Damn, Sam. You said DEAN was the shoot first ask questions later guy. But now you don’t even wanna INVESTIGATE this guy before definitely declaring him a werewolf??

I’m sorry…what?? I mean, sure it was the dog. You could glean that from the description but…this is…it’s disturbing

Oh god, is the DOG THIS LADY’S EX(/a werewolf)???

SAM!!! That is circumstantial evidence at BEST. (And we know it’s not her)

Sam really would sell anyone to Satan for a corn chip these days. Damn.

Oh no. It’s not a werewolf, but I’m pretty sure it’s wildly disrespectful to indigenous people if *I* say what it actually is

SAM. *SAM*!!!! It shouldn’t be funny. But Sam addressing this dude like a literal dog (because that’s the form he’s taken the whole time) and then answering the guy’s “go to hell” with “already been. Didn’t agree with me” he’s so sassy

There’s THIRTY of them?? Oh…it’s…as Dean said, a sleeper cell. He was supposed to turn the family he’s been staying with once he gets the word

Sam noooo not the whistle and trying to get him to play fetch. Stoppppp

The entire episode is just me yelling “Sam!! No!!” He wanted Dean to take the shot on the pack leader even with innocent people in the way

Oh…so you can just shoot them normally, I guess?? It’s super anticlimactic when you can just shoot them normally, though Bobby usually has whatever the boys need to kill a monster, so it’s not like that’s typically a problem

Sam telling Dean the things he’s done since losing his soul, and then saying that even though things were harder when he had one, he wants to go back to being that guy. I won’t lie, if he’s not lying, I’m proud of him.

“Been On My Mind…”: Nope. 3.

“The End of Time Part 2”

Plot Description: The Doctor faces the end of his life as the Master’s plans hurtle out of control

I DON’T WANT HIM TO GOOOOO. I literally waited til the last minute I thought I could possibly get through this before midnight arrived. My decompression time after work needed to be a lot longer than normal

God…I kinda wish I knew more about Old Who. I know precious little about the Time Lords outside the Doctor and the Master (though obviously less about him).

Is it bad that Donna’s making me wanna dye my hair again? I’ve been really good at not because I might wanna go back to my natural color…but who knows??

HE CALLED HER HIS BEST FRIENDDDDDD 😭😭😭 like I know it but…to hear him say it

These moments between the Doctor and the Master…can you imagine having one person and one person only in the entire universe who could possibly understand everything you’ve gone through? And they do, and they HATE you, and you COULD love them if they’d only back down a LITTLE (aaaaaaaaand I’ve just described Touya and Shoto again. godDAMMIT)

THIS BODY WAS BORN OUT OF DEATH, ALL IT CAN DO IS DIE?!?!?!?!?!?! When will these writers from 2009/2010 stop hurting my feelings about 2022/2023 manga things????

Yeah, this rescue could be better

Wilf is so excited (if a little scared) to be in space. Bless him

I can’t tell if the camera just moved or if the ship actually fell a little…but it’s in SPACE WITH NO GRAVITY. It shouldn’t do that

Hilarious that “night has fallen” so all 6 billion or something people/Masters HAVE to start just listening as though there aren’t ones who are potentially still asleep from….like, does he have no idea about time zones? Bit of an oversight for a TIME lord, if you ask me

OKAY. Time out. There’s allowing whatever to happen in your sci-fi and then there’s allowing JUST ANYTHING to happen. The Time Lords threw a diamond from inside the time lock into a projected image of Earth from the end of time and it showed up on real Earth in 2009?? Come on…

Oh, sweetie, your condition just keeps getting worse

I still don’t trust this woman who talked to Wilf on the TV and has now found him on the alien ship

…the Master changed not just alive humans but corpses too? Skeletons?? What the absolute fuck

“We must look like insects to you” “I think you look like giants” 💔 The Doctor and Wilf have such a special and sweet relationship. It’s gonna rip my heart out when he’s the one who will knock four times

Oh wow. There’s a lot I forgot. Hearing Wilf tell the Doctor to not put the Master ahead of making sure that every human returns to being themselves

The terror on David’s face when he hears what the diamond is

(Ok I’ve got another Touya parallel to the Master, but I might have to wait and do an edit later because we are running out of time)

Of course the Doctor can just fix the ship, all parts of it…just like that in a couple minutes

I was gonna say “this is some Star Wars shit (neutral)” but that would actually be very appropriate for today.

Yeah, bestie, that’s what happens when you jump out of a space ship, through glass, onto a marble floor with no parachute

I AM SO FUCKING INTERESTED IN EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENED IN THE TIME WAR

I sympathize with this seemingly impossible decision…but the decision to destroy the gate is so great

AND THEN THE MASTER SACRIFICING HIMSELF AND GETTING HIS REVENGE ON THE TIME LORDS WHO IMPLANTED THE DRUMS IN HIS HEAD

(I might not end in time for midnight…this is a longer episode than I thought, I’m pretty sure now)

The melodrama of the Doctor’s agony in the box with the radiation vs it just ending and he just…gets up

Oh…he’s doing his farewell tour, saving his companions and/or their family members

Man, now we’re even in a Star Wars-esque cantina…I swear I didn’t do this on purpose

Oh, the granddaughter of the woman from The family of blood

Well, midnight came and we’re at Donna’s wedding

Wilf blowing a very tiny kiss to the Doctor as he turns and leaves 😭😭😭😭😭😭

GODDDD I FORGOT HE VISITS ROSE IN 2005, TOO

“The universe will sing you to your sleep” can you IMAGINE???

My heart hurrrrrts watching this. I don’t wanna say good bye to Daviddddddd

Oh hi Matt! You strange giraffe of a man

[makeste]

BnHA Episode 122, a.k.a. NOBUHIKO YOU'VE DONE IT AGAIN

THEY CAN'T KEEP LETTING HIM GET AWAY WITH IT!

oh my god.

so first off, let's just get the one big major criticism out of the way: this episode was definitely not up to the same high quality standards as the first third of this season. and hey, I get it! you're doing 24 episodes in all, you're on a time crunch, and you've only got so many animators to go around. and the quality of some of these earlier season 6 eps (118 and 119 especially) was seriously some of the best this series has ever had. by contrast, chapters 284 and 285, while still easily ranking among my favorite chapters of all time, definitely do not go as hard with the visuals as some of the other War arc chapters (that very last 285 page being the one standout exception).

anyway so yeah, it was still a slight disappointment, but I'm fine with it. it does mean Deku vs Kacchan 2 will still retain its crown as my all time fave, but the real meat of this episode was never going to be about the flashy visuals -- it's all about that sweet, sweet character development.

two more very minor criticisms before I get to the OMG nonstop gushing part of this post! one, they did cut out this scene from ch 282 where Tomura originally had TWO quirk-be-gone bullets in his possession and Kacchan actually destroyed the second one.

YOU THOUGHT WE WOULDN'T REMEMBER, BONES. BUT WE DID. so for everyone who is giving Kacchan his well-earned love, praise, and admiration today, don't forget to also give him props for saving Aizawa's other leg, or whichever other appendage this doubtless would have hit. my boy out here lowkey saving his sensei from being ReDestro'd.

and then one final nitpicky little quibble, which is that the anime subtitlers declined to use the "Catch-A-Kacchan" translation, despite it being the single cleverest translation of all time, and by far Caleb Cook's biggest and most important contribution to the BnHA canon. alas, twas not meant to be. BUT ANYWAY NOW ON TO THE GUSHING.

okay so first off, we all know that Aizawa is an absolute badass and the most metal motherfucker in this entire series, and that Shouto has by this point all but perfected the art of swooping in to save the day at pivotal moments, and that the U.A. kids all need ALL OF THE THERAPY GODDAMMIT, and that Deku is a COMPLETE LUNATIC who thinks that HAVING FUNCTIONAL ARMS IS OVERRATED ANYWAYS. yes and yes and yes and yes. and if you wish, you can read all about my thoughts on these things and more, here and here and here and here.

but you already know what I actually came here to talk about today.

first of all, YOU GUYS. the music. THIS FUCKING MUSIC, THOUGH. they used the exact same OST track that was used for the "why was I the one who ended All Might?" speech all the way back in DvK2. THIS IS OFFICIALLY THE "TIME FOR NOBUHIKO TO FLEX HIS VOICE ACTING CHOPS" MUSIC. A TRADITION HAS BEEN BORN.

anyway so if anyone needs me I'll just be sitting here playing this scene on repeat until the end of time. no big deal though. I can quit at any time. not like I'm obsessed with it or anything. I definitely love this scene and this character a perfectly normal amount.

All Might talking about how Katsuki understood from the get-go about how OFA was a secret that could put other people at great risk really hits hard in hindsight. especially when you realize that Katsuki really did know right from the start, and he willingly accepted that risk with no hesitation, and he absolutely did suffer consequences for it (it was his knowledge of OFA that led to him following Deku and subsequently getting involved in this battle). and I don't doubt that he has absolutely zero regrets.

okay but can we seriously just talk for a sec about the way Kacchan's anxiety is practically boiling over when he starts to ask All Might about the Fourth's cause of death?? I feel like this is one thing that kind of got overlooked at the time in the manga because we were so completely distracted by EVERY SINGLE OTHER DAMN THING IN THAT CHAPTER lol. but hearing it again here, you feel how worried he actually is about Deku, and idk why but it all of a sudden just hit me so damn hard.

"I'm worried about him. you are, too." because that truly is what this whole conversation is really about. or at least that's the driving force behind it. behind this whole episode, in fact. it's simple, when you get right down to it: Kacchan is afraid that Deku is going to die. it's literally been the biggest fear on his mind ever since Deku unlocked SIXQUIRKS. right from the start, his mind was immediately going to the worst case scenarios. he immediately deduced that OFA might have a deeper connection to AFO than any of them realized (shoutout to Kacchan for being the original "Deku is a horcrux" truther lol. ONE DAY HORIKOSHI WILL FINALLY REVEAL THE TRUTH AND PROVE US RIGHT). he instantly zeroed in on the sobering fact that all of the previous OFA users died young. and as he reveals here, he took particular notice of the fact that All Might seems to be hiding something about OFA IV's death, and he is goddamn PRESSED about it.

and I absolutely LOVE the way that Nobu voiced this part of the conversation. when he starts to question All Might, his breathing starts to pick up a little, and his voice starts to get louder, and the words start to spill out faster and faster almost like he's in a rush to get it all out, and his voice starts to crack just a little, and he goes from not looking at All Might to hesitantly, almost fearfully glancing at him from the side, and then finally turning to face him head on with his eyes all wary and his teeth gritted like he's bracing himself for the very worst (because he is).

and then he finally just asks him, "was it because you realized something?" and then he takes in this achingly hesitant little breath before finishing with, "...about One for All?" and just. the whole scene is just SO well done. like, he's seriously so fucking scared about this, though. but at the same time he just needs to know, and just. oh my god. and Nobuhiko manages to emote all of this so clearly, and that is such a difficult line to walk when you're dealing with a character like Katsuki who's always so hesitant to show his vulnerability. he has to portray these two separate layers of Bakugou at the same time -- the part of him that is trying his hardest to be nonchalant and matter-of-fact in order to hide his fears and emotions; while at the same time also portraying said emotions which are clearly seeping through anyway, regardless of his efforts.

anyway so yeah. I could talk about this for eighty years and never get sick of it honestly but let's move on.

let me tell you guys, I've been bracing myself for this scene for two full years, and it still kicked my ass. THIS SCENE HAD NO REGARD FOR HUMAN LIFE. literally RIGHT IN the feels. direct hit.

"he's always been that way." no, but guys. the regret when he says that. the way he states it with such simplicity and clarity. almost profound. this is just a truth of the world. this is just how Deku is. this is something that took him so long to understand, but now that he does, he can't fathom how he was never able to see it before. and then that ever-so-slight bitterness that creeps into his voice as he goes on to describe how he fucked it all up. ;_;

and then last but not least!!

"ijimeta." one word, in Japanese. it all comes down to that. and his voice gets so quiet. this whole last part of his speech is so quiet and so soft. but when he says this very last part, his voice wavers perfectly on that last word, and it just. sounds so resigned, somehow, but also just... almost faltering, for just a moment. you can hear the regret as clear as day, but you also hear the fear once again as he finally reveals this fact -- literally his biggest shame; the worst thing that he's ever done -- to All Might. his hero. just, damn.

anyway. so needless to say, despite my expectations being SKY HIGH, this scene absolutely met all of them and blew me away. as expected from the best fucking voice actor in Japan, according to me, a single lone person, whose subjective opinion is absolutely definitely not biased in any possible way.

back to the action! and Nobu getting to do his very best Deku impression lol.

can you believe this kid. one single nerdy analysis speech was all it took for him to start emitting such powerful Main Character Energy that even Endeavor got taken in and was just automatically following orders lol.

awesome choice of music here while Deku and Tomura continued to battle and Bakugou laid out his plan. you know it's good when they still manage to make you feel the tension even though this is basically just a generic action scene, and you additionally already know exactly what's going to happen.

I have no idea why, but that part with Deku's "Kacchan... my 'Deku' means 'you can do it!'" speech juxtaposed against the image of him going all out against Tomura with such fierce determination hit me like 100x harder than it did in the manga. I was NOT expecting that to be as powerful as it was. damn near gave me chills.

literally the only time I've ever been on board with the whole "FUCK YEAH, I'LL JUST BREAK ALL MY BONES AT YOU!!" deal lol. it literally makes no goddamn sense but this scene is just so raw.

THEN WE YEET THE ENDEAVOR!!!!

SO ON-BRAND. NO DEKU-INSPIRED PLAN IS EVER TRULY COMPLETE WITHOUT A GOOD YEETING.

and then the next few moments are some of the most legitimately unsettling of the entire series, as we have Tomura screaming at the top of his lungs while being burnt to cinders (and I mean, I love Tomura dearly, but I get it; he literally just Thanos'd tens of thousands of innocent people), followed by AFO's creepy fucking ghost hand reaching out all "LEND ME YOUR BODY~~~" which is a scene that absolutely NO ONE ASKED FOR but okay.

but then right afterwards though! when AFO finally did take over, and you hear that "TV shutting down" sound effect all of a sudden? and then the next few scenes with all the BKDK flashbacks are also weirdly TV-themed? I could not for the life of me figure this out at first, but now I'm actually thinking it could be a reference to the chapter 306 color page?

OR MAYBE NOT? I actually have no idea. anyway though it may have been random af but it worked for me, what can I say.

AND THEN THE MOMENT OF TRUTH AT LONG LAST.

THIS ACTUALLY IS SO PRETTY THOUGH?? LIKE I WAS NOT EXPECTING THAT COLOR COMBINATION AT ALL?

AND IT HAPPENS SO QUICKLY!!!!??? YOU BARELY EVEN HAVE TIME TO BLINK?!?!!

oh. my. god.

THE WAY THE MUSIC SUDDENLY GOT QUIET. THE WAY HIS NARRATING VOICE CAME ON AND, PRAISE EVERYTHING, IT REALLY WAS DEEPER. THAT REALLY WAS THE ADULT HIM. SAME AS DEKU. MY FEELINGS ABOUT THIS ARE SO FUCKING MUCH RIGHT NOW.

AND THEN THE FLASHBACKS!! THE SCENES OF THEM IN MIDDLE SCHOOL!! AND GROUND ZERO!! AND THEN CUTTING TO THE TWO OF THEM AS LITTLE BABIES, AND THE TV SCREEN ALL OF A SUDDEN SWITCHING TO COLOR??? AND THE HANDS??? THE REACHING?!?!

AND THEN?!?!?!

"HEY MAKESTE, IF WE GO AHEAD AND ACTUALLY MAKE THE VOLUME 29 COVER CANON, WILL YOU FINALLY FORGIVE US FOR ALL OF THE HALF-BAKED PAINFULLY OOC FILLER EPISODES AND OVAS?" WELL, STUDIO BONES, YOU DRIVE A HARD BARGAIN, BUT HOW CAN I POSSIBLY REFUSE.

AND THEN THEY FULL ON MURDERED ME!!!!!

that's right bitches. DREAD IT. RUN FROM IT. THE CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT ARRIVES ALL THE SAME.

holy shit. and then THE END CREDITS oh my freaking heart. words can't even describe.

Studio Bones out here not resting until they've succeeded in making EVERY SINGLE PERSON feel the MAXIMUM AMOUNT OF SADNESS THAT A HUMAN BEING CAN SUSTAIN. their callousness truly knows no bounds.

anyway so there we have it! part one of the spectacular season 6 Bakugou Katsuki Redemption Saga. I laughed, I cried, I cried, I cried, I cried a little bit more, and then I cried a little bit more after that. final verdict: yeah, it was pretty good.

[h0neypjm]

Just for practice | kth

↳ Summary: “I think we should normalise giving head to your friends as practice.”

↳ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader, slight Hoseok x reader

↳ Genre: Smut, pwp, some plot i guess, best friend! Taehyung

↳ Rating: 18+

↳ Word count: 5.3k

↳ Warnings: swearing, lip biting, hickies, oral (both female and male receiving), rough blowjobs, spanking, fingering, squirting, big dick! Tae, possessiveness/jealousy, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap pls), dom/sub themes, Taehyung calls reader lots of pet names (sweetheart, darling, good girl), degradation, biting, slight cockwarming

↳ a/n: I’ve been having major writer’s block while writing confident :( however, i saw this tweet which prompted this lil oneshot hope you enjoy

Jung Hoseok [ 2:15 PM ]

Am I gonna see you at Seokjin’s tomorrow?

You [ 2:16 PM ]

I’ll be there :)

Jung Hoseok [ 2:18 PM ]

You’re not gonna run away from me this time, right?

You [ 2:20 PM ]

No of course not haha

Jung Hoseok [ 2:21 PM ]

Is that a promise princess?

A sigh flies out of your mouth like wind through a window and you’re shucking off your glasses in an instant. Hoseok’s texts bringing back a flurry of memories that you wish to forget.

“Do you need help with your essay again?”

Your eyes are strained when they try to focus on Taehyung, your shoulders shrug in defeat. “No, I’m fine. It’s just-”

Taehyung knows immediately, he is your best friend after all. “Let me guess, It’s Hoseok isn’t it?” 

You slump in your seat while a pout is cutely drawn onto your face, you nod with dismay. “I really like him Tae, and every time we see each other, It’s like the universe has it out for me and tries to make sure I embarrass myself in front of him.”

Taehyung shuts his laptop because he knows there's no use in trying to write an essay while you speak about your utterly tragic love life. He thinks about your situation for a minute before he speaks.

“Yes, you might’ve spilled your beer on him and accidentally punched him in the eye, more than once. But, if he’s still texting you he’s obviously still into you. It’s a good sign sweetheart.” Taehyung pats your hand across the coffee table, a comforting smile adorning his handsome face.

Taehyung doesn’t know the full extent of your problem and the more you think about it the more embarrassing it becomes. So you smile back at him uttering a small thank you before turning back to your laptop.

Taehyung raises a brow, “wait, wait, hang on, something is still bothering you.” 

You frown, “it’s embarrassing.”

Taehyung shuffles around the corner of the coffee table as if you’re about to tell him a secret, though it’s just the two of you in his small apartment. “Just tell me, it can’t be that bad.”

“Taehyung it is that bad.” You tilt your head at him, pulling up the sleeves of your sweater around your tiny fists. “You’re gonna laugh at me.”

Taehyung feigns shock at your words, his hands placed on his heart for dramatic effect. “I would never laugh, and frankly I’m offended you think that low of me.” 

You roll your eyes, turning your body more towards him, deciding it wouldn't hurt letting Taehyung know the thoughts plaguing your mind. “Well, you know how Hoseok and I have been kind of flirty lately, right?” He nods in understanding. 

“I can tell he wants more than that, you know? His touches are small but I know exactly what he’s suggesting, and don’t get me wrong, the feeling is completely mutual because trust me I want that too. Really bad.” 

Taehyung hums, interrupting your soon-to-be graphic rambling. “I totally get it Y/N. Now let’s stop beating around the bush so I can help you.”

If Taehyung were a girl, this would be so much easier. You curse your eight-year-old self who just had to become friends with a boy because God, how do you even start?

Taehyung is a patient man, always giving you space before helping you but, in this situation, you feel it’s best to just rip the band-aid off. Taehyung if you can read my mind, please don’t laugh at me.

“I’venevergivensomeoneablowjob.”

You speak so suddenly, Taehyung’s not so sure he heard you correctly. “Huh?”

“Goddammit Tae”, you rub and your temples and avoid his stare. “I’ve never given someone a blowjob!”

His eyes are wide. “Oh” 

You hide your face into the table while your body internally cringes. At least he didn’t laugh. “See! You do think it’s bad.”

“I’m just surprised to be honest”, he reassures, leaning back onto his palms, strong brows pulled together in thought. “Shit Y/N, have you really never sucked a dick before?”

Sure, you’ve had sex many times (most of which have been extremely disappointing) but, it seems that most of your hookups want to get straight into fucking. No foreplay, no nothing. Just unseasoned, pleasureless fucking.

A groan rumbles out of your throat, “It just never happened! They were all about that hump and dump lifestyle I guess.”

Taehyung is utterly baffled at your statement. In Taehyung’s books, It is compulsory to treat every women like a queen. Preparing and edging them the perfect amount of times to see them crumble so sensually by his very doing. To Taehyung, seeing a woman cry out his name from experiencing the most explosive, leg-shaking orgasm was always his favourite part.

This is why Taehyung is absolutely shattered for you. “So, you’re also telling me no one has ever eaten you out?” You miserably nod, “that’s actually fucking evil!”

His words do not ease you one bit as you throw your head onto the seat behind you. “The way you say it makes me feel even worse. This is the sole reason why I run away from Hoseok and make a fool out of myself.”

Taehyung doesn’t say anything, the air floating around carrying an awkward silence. You don’t really care and you don’t expect Taehyung to think of a solution. Plus, you’re already embarrassed enough.

You might as well leave and ask one of your girlfriends for help, maybe finish your essay while you’re at it. You sigh, shutting your laptop and stacking your books together. 

However, the next sentence that flies out of Taehyung’s mouth makes you stop dead in your tracks.

“I think I’ve figured out how I can help you.”

Wiggling back into a comfortable seating position, you lean into Taehyung with interest. “And how might you help me, dear Taehyung?”

He eyes you nervously, his fingers fiddling with his chunky rings, “You trust me, right?”

You smile, “yeah, of course, you’re my best friend Tae.”

An exhale puffs out of his mouth. “Why not practice on me?”

You almost choke on your spit. You definitely did not expect him to say that. “Could you repeat that please?”

A new glint of mischief sparkles in his eye. “Why not let me teach you how to give Hoseok the blowjob of his life and in return, I’ll eat you out”

Your brain is having a meltdown. 

“You’re fucking crazy”, you wail. “You actually want me to suck your dick?”

He brings his hands up in defence, “I think we should normalize giving head to your friends as practice, I don’t think it’s such a bad idea. Think about it, you get to learn and cum at the same time.”

You won’t lie to yourself, the proposal is tempting and in all honesty, Taehyung is hot as fuck. You will forever thank the Gods above for blessing you with the delicious sight that is your best friend. However, the proposition puts you in an odd spot.

Apprehensive about your thoughts, you state your unease, “I-I don’t know Taehyung, don’t you think this might ruin our friendship?” An exhale, “have you seriously thought of me that way?”

Taehyung chuckles, it’s deep and totally unexpected to your question. “Sweetheart, there are many things that go on inside my head involving you. And to answer your question, they’re not completely innocent.”

A startled gasp is ripped from your throat and your stomach flutters with a dangerous mix of nervousness, thrill and dare you say arousal.

Never in your life would you have imagined Kim Taehyung, your best friend since grade school, seeing you in such an inviting way. To make matters worse, It was intimidating to think about his fair share of experience and the long line of women backing up the fact that Taehyung was indeed some sort of sex demon.

Of course, you felt the same way. How could you not! The man was practically an incarnation of a Greek God. Broad sturdy shoulders that sat atop thick muscular thighs, and how could you forget his gorgeous fingers.

You’d die before you admit it, but there have been many nights where you have found yourself thinking about what his pretty long fingers could do to you. Those nights always ended with a mess of your sheets and a wetness between your thighs. It was your dirty little secret, however, it seems Taehyung also had some of his own.

His sharp eyes storm with darkness when he speaks, “don’t lie Y/N, I know you’ve had some dirty thoughts about me up in that pretty little head of yours.”

Pink blossoms over your cheeks like wildfire because he’s so terrifyingly right. “I don’t even need to touch you sometimes, one look and you’re a goner.” You gulp. “Look at you right now.” His gaze drops down to your thighs. “All my talking making you so needy, you need to clench your thighs to keep it together.”

He smiles, though it’s not his usual boxy, boyish smile. It’s dangerous and seductive almost smirking and shit when did he get so close to you? Your breathing is erratic and you have no idea how you could be so anxious yet so amorous at the same time. 

Your heart beats rapidly in your ears. “This is just for practice, right?”

Taehyung curses under his breath, “just for practice sweetheart.”

You don’t get to respond.

His lips are hesitant at first when they meet yours, yet his hands say the opposite. They start at your waist and tickle their way down to your stiff hands. Ever so gently, he pries them open, intertwining his long fingers with yours, and God, did his hands feel so right.

Your nerves dissipate slowly but surely as you allow him to explore your mouth with his skilful tongue. 

Much to Taehyung’s dismay, he finds you releasing your fingers from his own. Your hands flying to the nape of his neck, ultimately bringing him closer to you, deepening the kiss. Taehyung moans in delight when you tug at his long curls, you bite his lip in reply while lust paints your vision and dampens your panties.

Taehyung never knew he would miss the feeling of your lips against his when he painfully pushes himself away to situate himself comfortably on the couch. It was time for the lesson to begin.

You pout at the distance, trying to wiggle close until he motions for you to get into a particular position. Your insides swell with eagerness.

His voice is sweet and his hands are delicate when he tucks a few strands of hair behind your ear. “Get down on your knees for me sweetheart.” You obey immediately. He smirks at your sinking form. “Good girl.”

You swear right then and there your pussy had gained a working heartbeat at his words. The unfamiliar pulse thumping as if it were trying to break loose from the constraints of your sweatpants.

Your eyes are big and expectant, slowly drinking up the sight of Taehyung’s delicious figure seated above you. He sits on the couch like it’s his throne, legs spread to accompany your kneeling figure, and dominating stare pinning you down. A shiver runs down your spine.

“Wh-what do I do now?” You utter, making it known to Taehyung that he is in charge. He is in control.

Taehyung cocks his head to the side, using a decorated pointer finger to hither your hands towards him. Hesitantly, you raise both hands, lightly placing them down on his thighs.

A click of his tongue makes its way to your ears and you know you’ve already made your first mistake. Taehyung’s brows furrow, it’s obvious you need to make the next move but your brain is fuzzy and flustered. 

He sighs at your confused silence, bringing your small hands onto his belt. Oh, you know what you’re supposed to do now.  

“I thought you were smarter than this, how else are you meant to get my dick out, hmm?” The blush across your cheeks has definitely spread profusely from his teasing. Its once peachy pink tone deepening into an embarrassing cherry red.

The buckle of his belt jingles under your fingertips as you nervously undo them. You’re apparently too slow for his liking, Taehyung finishing the job by pulling his belt off his pants, leaving you to stare down at the large bulge covered by the fabric of his tight jeans. You thought you had your nerves under control but the way your hands start to shake is an indication that this is real. You’re really about to suck your best friend off.

Ever the observant friend, Taehyung is quick to notice the slight shake in your fingers. “Wait, stop.”

You do as he says, quickly settling your palms back on the thickness of his covered thighs. “Are you sure you want to do this? your hands are shaking sweetheart.” His voice is laced with concern, a total switch to his previous words.

Clearing your throat you reply, “oh, no, no I’m fine.” You lock eyes. “I just want to make sure I’m doing good so I can be good for him.”

Possessiveness flares within Taehyung’s chest and he has no idea why. Although he doesn’t let it show, he can’t help the swell of his ego at the knowledge that he’s the first to get you like this. Not Hoseok. Him.

So, he grins his wide boxy grin, dragging a finger down your warm cheek. “Don’t worry darling, you’re in great hands”

The commanding smirk etched onto his lips sparks a surge of confidence through your veins, begging you to finally touch him.

With a tug of your small hands, Taehyung’s constricting jeans are pried off the taut muscle of his thighs and are left to pool around his ankles. The excitement of finally being able to suck dick coursing through your body like lighting, and just like his jeans, Taehyung’s boxers are off in a second.

His cock springs, tall, hard and proud. Your jaw drops, Taehyung chuckles at your reaction. You feel an ooze of wetness pooling in your panties.

His size is nothing you’ve seen before, thick and girthy with an impressive length to match. You wince at the thought of fitting him down your throat.

The cold metal of his rings against your hands brings your attention to Taehyung’s handsome face. Without breaking any eye contact, he wordlessly wraps your hands around the thickness of his cock.

It’s warm and swells in your palm, your two dainty hands stacked on top of each other. Fingers trying so hard to wrap themselves around the sheer girth of his cock.

You’re not dumb, you know what comes next. With a sharp inhale you begin to stroke up his length, paying close attention to his facial expression to get an idea of how well you’re doing

Taehyung’s head tilts to get a better view at your hands, “grip it tighter for me… yeah fuck that’s it.”

His praise boasts you on, holding tighter onto his cock and gathering the slick of his pre-cum with a twist of your wrist. Your eyes remain focused on the way the skin moves with your hands and the way his tip glistens with arousal. You want to lick it.

“When you’re ready you can put your mouth- Ahh shit Y/N!”

He didn’t need to finish his sentence when you’re already so eager to have him in your mouth. You do what you think would feel best, sucking on the head of his cock like a sweet ice lolly on a hot summer's day. Your tongue tracing the thick circumference before dipping into his slit.

A light groan falls from his mouth as he watches you lap at the remaining pre-cum that glistens in the afternoon light. Taehyung almost forgets why he’s here, lost in your plump lips wet with saliva.

Right, he’s here to teach you how to give a blowjob. “Try and take my whole length in darling.” 

You nod, taking a deep breath, your mouth opening wider to take him in as far as you can. You try to keep your throat relaxed taking him inch by inch.

“That's a good girl”, he praises, “you’re doing so well for me.” 

Your knees squeeze together, acting to relieve some pressure on your aching heat. It had truly been a while since you got some serious action.

Surprisingly you’re able to make your way to the hilt of his cock, a choked gag sputtering from your lips.

A few strands of hair fall in your face, blocking your eyes in the process. Swiftly, Taehyung brushes the hair from your eyes while simultaneously lifting your head off of his cock. 

You release him with a satisfying pop, your eyes wide and makeup a little smudged. Taehyung coaches you through the next steps. “I want you to try and do that again, but when you come back up, lick the length of my cock and look at me while you do it.”

Humming in acknowledgment you grip the base of his cock before pausing. “Isn’t this what you like though? What if Hoseok likes to be touched in a different way?”

An unintentional growl bubbles out of his mouth. Oh how he wished he could take your mind off Hoseok and have you screaming his name, thinking about him instead.

He pushes down his discontentment with the other man on your mind, “men are simple creatures Y/N, just making out sometimes can get them going. And judging by the way you’re sucking my cock right now, I’m sure Hoseok will be crazy for you.”

As Taehyung explains the ins and outs of a man’s brain, you don’t make an effort to stop the teasing of his cock. His words sound slurred, they go in one ear and out the other, and besides the delicious length in front of you is much more fascinating.

For the time being you stare up at him, your eyes wide feigning interest in his words, all while you grip his cock in one hand and continuously lap at his tip with a kitten-like flick of your tongue. 

Taehyung finally realises that you’ve stopped listening when he feels the small yet downright sensual pleasure shooting through his cock. He grunts, pushing your hair back once again, “fuck, that’s hot. You’re so fucking good.”

His preoccupied hand squeezes the pillows beside him, the veins of his hands popping out. You do what he taught you, seductive eyes laser focused on him while your wicked tongue leaves a hot trail up the prominent vein on his dick.

“Shit Y/N you’re doing so well-”

You release him from your mouth disrupting his sentence, “can you fuck my throat?”

Taehyung swears his whole body just convulsed at your request. He looks away just so he can contain himself because holy shit.

Obviously Taehyung has thought about you being in this position, saying those words. Yet, no matter how many times he fantasizes this scenario, nothing would ever prepare him for those words to actually come out of your mouth with the most bewitching grin plastered on your pretty face.

He stutters, “I- no, I don’t know if you can take it darling.”

You grip his thighs, pout forming on those dangerous lips of yours, “please Tae, I want it. Want you to use me.”

Taehyung pushes the curls of his bangs away, a hiss steaming from his lips. “Alright, but if you feel any discomfort pinch my thigh, okay sweetheart?”

You’re impatient, “yeah, yeah, I can take your monster dick.” You place a small kiss on his thigh, “do your worst.”

His movements are all too fast, all too sudden. His fingers securing a death-grip on the mess of your hair before holding his cock up to your mouth. “You asked for it darling.”

Your mouth automatically widens, welcoming the rough intrusion of his cock as it slides all the way down your throat. A lewd gag fills the room.

A dark cloud of lust of dominance fogs Taehyung’s vision, his biceps flexing when he brings your head up and down his thick velvety length.

The room resounds with the filthy wet noises of your saliva covered lips pumping repeatedly. Taehyung breathes heavily through his nose, tilting his head against the cushions behind him. He keeps his hips still, yanking your hair at an obscene pace. A slew of curses and moans fly out into the air as he revels at the complete state of ecstasy you’ve put him under.

The heat of his member burns the back of your throat but you fucking love it. You open your teary eyes, gazing at his chiseled jaw and the way he shivers and groans above you. It only spurs you on when he glances back down, meeting your mascara ruined eyes.

It’s like a knee-jerk reaction. Taehyung harshly pushes your head all the way to the base of his cock. Your face is met with his abdomen, the hairs of his happy trail tickling your nose.

He leaves you there, and the burn in your throat rises, leaving you gagging, your throat tightening around him.

Taehyung believes after this he could never get the image of your messy docile eyes and tarnished lips out of his brain. He feels your throat constrict, “sh-shit, fuck Y/N, breathe through your nose.” You inhale. “That’s my good girl.”

He releases you from his member only to push your lips back onto him, going back to his beastly pace. “You look so fucking pathetic, you think Hoseok wants a messy girl like you?”

You gurgle around him, tears freely falling down your cheeks as you try to shake your head no. He only mumbles out a groan, his cock abruptly pulsing under your tongue like a steady heartbeat.

It's all too sudden when he releases your head off his length, a glob of drool dripping down your chin and onto your shirt. 

“Fuck sorry I was about to cum.”

Although your heart swells with pride you wonder, “why didn’t you?”

He runs a hand through his messy locks, “the purpose of this was to teach you, don’t you still want to practice?”

You’re smug with your answer, “I think I’ve got the hang of it now.”

He swipes a finger under your tear stained eyes, “getting cocky now are we.” 

You were cocky indeed, “well I did get you shaking under my touch didn’t I?”

He rolls his eyes, “get up you brat, I’m gonna show you what you’ve been missing out on.”

Fucking finally.

You won’t lie, you were probably most excited to finally know what it feels like to receive head. Your mind is still fuzzy from Taehyung’s rough ministrations as you slowly get up. You wobble slightly and Taehyung is quick to stabilize you with two strong arms holding the curve of your hips in place.

With his arms already around you he pushes you towards the couch, kicking his jeans off in the process.

Back flat against his plush couch you’re already stripping off your sweatpants and panties together in one. “My, my aren’t you eager”, he teases, a glint of shamelessness twinkling in his brown orbs when he drinks up the plushness of your thighs leading to your dripping cunt.

Holding your knees in the palm on his hands, he spreads them open to reveal the glossy folds on your heat. He kisses his teeth, satisfaction and hunger clear on his face. “Fuck, isn’t this a pretty sight.”

His words bring back a blush on your cheeks, you pull him forward, your lips inches away from his own. “Shut up please.”

And he shuts you up real good. Smashing your lips to his, he envelopes you into a feverish kiss, your tongues dancing the devil's tango.

His hands are adventurous, feeling the mounds of your breasts over your shirt. “Why the fuck isn’t your shirt off yet huh?” He tuts, pulling on the cotton fabric.

“I want yours off too.” You cutely mumble tugging at the hem of his shirt, to which he complies, tugging it off in one fluid motion. 

You peel your baggy shirt off just in time to see Taehyung's arm flex as he takes his very own shirt off. “Have you been working out? My God Tae, you're as big as Joon.”

He inwardly smirks because yeah he’s been working out and it's clearly paying off. He doesn’t want to show his glee however, “can we not talk about other men when I’m about to eat you out.”

You chuckle, eyes trailing down his buff arms to his v-line that leads to his dick like an arrow directing you to his treasure. You bite your lip, unclipping your lace bralette, “sure, sure, let’s get the show on the road.”

It’s Taehyung turn to drink up the sight of your body. “Fuck, always imagined what these tits looked like under all those tight clothes you wear.”

He’s really feeding into your praise kink. “Well, were they what you expected?”

He sucks on one immediately and you arch your back at the unexpected pleasure. “Even better”, he squeezes them in his palms, “they’re fucking gorgeous.”

He sucks a deep hickey under your left breast, leaving you whimpering with a hand tangled in his hair. “Always imagined what you sounded like moaning for me.”

You can’t reply, his touches burning through your skin. He kisses down your sternum to your stomach until he’s hovering above your aching clit, a tantalising grin on his face before he’s diving in.

“Fuck!” You wail at the unfamiliar yet mesmerising feelings. His tongue is stiff and pointed, flicking quickly up and down your bundle of nerves. 

The grip you have on his hair is deathly but it's the only thing in your reach that can ground you. He licks a long stripe down your sopping slit, keeping his sharp eyes on you the whole time.

“F-feels so fucking good Tae!” You almost scream. He cups his lips around your swollen nub sucking on it with a shit-eating grin on his face.

You’re too dazed to comment on it, reeling in the new pleasures you’re experiencing. You stare down at him, your eyes half opened and so close to rolling to the back of your head.

However, they almost completely open wide at the sight presented before you. With two long fingers, Taehyung is shoving them in his mouth, soaking them with his spit before rubbing them onto your sensitive folds.

You beg. “Put them inside.. Please.” Taehyung doesn’t make a sound only kissing your clit as he plunges his ring decorated fingers into you.

You’re so wet his fingers slide into you with ease. He groans at the sensation, his view focused on the way your cunt greedily sucks him in.

“Look at you, getting my rings all dirty you filthy girl”, he scolds watching the way your essence drips into the crevices of his intricate jewellery. 

Taehyung increases the pace of his long fingers, finger fucking you into euphoria. He doesn’t stop there, his lips returning to your desperate clit in a wet mess of your juices and his saliva.

You can feel your orgasm bubbling in your stomach. It's hot and feels so unlike any other upcoming orgasm you’ve experienced. His fingers curl inside of you, his palm slapping your folds with his rapid pace and his lips don’t give any sign of stopping.

“Taehyung- Tae, I’m cumming!” You really scream this time, your orgasm taking control over your body like a demon. 

You swear your eyes black out, your body shaking, a warmth gushing out of your cunt as it spazzes out.

Your chest heaves and you blink, feeling a damp pool around you. Oh God, Did you piss yourself?

“Holy fuck Y/N, I can’t believe you just did that.”

You sit up, embarrassed, an apology falling from your lips.

“You just squirted on me.”

You’re flushed, “I- what?”

Taehyung almost looks akin to a wolf hunting down his prey. “That was the hottest fucking experience of my life, holy shit I’m so hard.”

Well at least you didn’t pee on his couch. There’s a surge of overwhelming need for his cock to be inside of you. You’ve never felt this way before, it’s scary but so is this whole experience. It’s definitely one for the books.

Getting up on your knees you hold onto his shoulders, Taehyung raises a brow. “Fuck, I need to ride you, can I ride you?”

You think you just saw his dick twitch at your words. He grins, “just for practice?”

Your smile is sickly sweet, “of course, just for practice.”

His arms are strong when he shuffles into a seated position all while holding your hips above his awaiting cock.

He pauses, a flash of his normal self resurfacing. “You’re on the pill yeah?”

You peck his lips, “yes, now stuff me full.”

That’s all the confirmation he needs before he’s sinking you down onto his length. 

You both let out moans of pleasure at the feeling of being complete. The stretch hurts so bad but hurts so good. He fills you up so well it has you speechless, the air trapped inside your lungs refusing to be released until your walls are comfortable around his impressive girth.

Mumbling a soft curse, you swivel your hips in slow circles, getting used to his large size. Taehyung watches you, hunger written on his face as he licks his lips and examines the way you fit so perfectly on his lap.

You test the waters, holding onto his shoulders for support. You lift your hips and settle back onto his lap. He groans at the wet squelch it makes and slaps your ass, grabbing it in his hand to squeeze it.

You pick up the speed, pumping up and down, whimpering at how well he fills you up. You keep your gaze trained on the image of his dick disappearing in your heat and pulling out with a wet sheen.

Taehyung tucks a finger under your chin, bringing you close to his face to push his soft lips onto yours once again.

It’s weird to say, but you don’t think you can get tired of kissing your best friend. He knows exactly what you want and knows exactly how to make your head spin.

With his large hands of yours, you pick up the pace, slamming your ass onto his hips. You leave his lips, kissing the side of jaw and suckling a few lovebites behind his ear.

His voice is deep and sultry, “fuck yeah, that’s it.” You wail in his hold, pushing yourself to meet his thrusts below. Your thighs burn but the pleasure burns so much hotter.

You feel your second orgasm of the night rising within you and can tell Taehyung is close too. Taehyung assists you, using his thighs to push up into you. Your juices drip down onto his pelvis and both of your breaths get heavier.

His thrusts are fast and rough, creating loud slapping noises that echo around his empty apartment. He grunts, folding his head into the crook of your neck. He’s about to cum and so are you.

With one final gasp your release hits you like a truck. Your thigh shakes in his lap and Taehyung bites at the delicate skin of your neck. His warm seed shoots inside of you, eliciting a small sigh from your lips.

Taehyung releases his hold to lean back onto the couch. He keeps his softening cock inside of you, lazily staring at your fucked out expression.

You play with his rings, “well, how did I do?”

The shit-eating grin is back. “Hmmm, I think you may need more practice.”

[starryevermore]

overprotective ✧ sam wilson

angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

request: Ok but ya know the scene where Bucky annoys Sam and flirts with his sister Sarah? What if Buckys sister turned up too (reader) and Sams like “payback baby” … and then she agrees to a date? And buckys suddenly paying attention and is like hell nah?

pairing: sam wilson x barnes!fem!reader

summary: sam flirts with bucky’s sister. 

word count: 1,035

warnings?: slight au where everyone’s just normal folks, fluff, not proofread

MASTER SPY (PART 2)

Sam couldn’t tell if Bucky was actually interested in his sister or if Bucky was just trying to rile him up. Regardless, Sam was about five steps away from shoving Bucky off the boat and acting like it was an “accident”. Seriously, did friendship mean nothing to this guy?! Wasn’t the number one rule in the bro code that sisters were off limits? Did this guy have no integrity? 

The only thing stopping Sam from shoving off the boat was seeing how happy Sarah looked. He couldn’t remember the last time she looked so happy, smiled so big, seemed so carefree. From losing a husband to raising to boys to trying to keep the family business afloat…It was a lot for anyone. Even when Sam stepped in to help out, Sarah still felt so much pressure resting on her shoulders. But, even if Sarah was happy with Bucky’s flirting…that didn’t mean Sam had to be happy about it. 

Even if it was Bucky, a person he considered to be his best friend. A person who was his best friend. But his sister and his best friend? No way. Not a fucking chance. There were boundaries. Family was off limits. 

But, if he said anything? He knew it wouldn’t do anything. Hell, he had said something. And what did that get him? Bucky flirting with Sarah even more. 

Perhaps he should’ve paid more attention to Steve when he said that Bucky could charm any woman he met. Sam just thought that Steve was over-exaggerating. Because, back then, Steve had no game. Hell, Steve barely had any game when Sam met him. Bucky probably could’ve gotten one girl’s number in front of Steve, and Steve would think that Bucky wooed the entire bar.

But goddammit that blond fucker was telling the truth. 

“Bucky, I swear to god I’m going to—” Sam began to hiss when Sarah was out of earshot, having gone to get herself some lemonade. 

“Oh, are we threatening Buck? Count me in.”

Sam whipped around, watching as a woman stepped onto the boat. She looked familiar in the same way a relative of a close friend looks familiar. He looked to Bucky, trying to see if Bucky recognized the woman. Bucky was groaning, shaking his head. They knew each other, it seemed. 

“Not that I’m opposed to a beautiful woman showing up unannounced,” Sam said, “but who are you?”

“Y/N,” you said when you reached him, holding out your hand. “Y/N Barnes.”

Sam took your hand and brought it to his mouth without thinking, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “I would say I’m happy to finally meet you, but Buck never mentioned you before.” Sam looked over at Bucky, raising a brow.“You never told me you had a sister.”

“Half-sister,” you corrected. Sam looked back at you. “Raised separately. I actually didn’t even know he existed until about a year or two ago.”

“Well, I’m sure you’re wishing you still didn’t know he existed,” Sam teased. “I’ve been trying to ditch him for years, but—”

“—he sort of leaches on and won’t let go? Trust me, I know the feeling.“ You smiled, flashing your pearly whites at him. And though Sam didn’t consider himself the nervous type, seeing your radiant smile made butterflies take off his stomach. “He invited me. I hope I’m not overstepping or anything?”

“Not at all,” Sam assured you. “Hey, do you want some lemonade or something? Sarah, my sister, just made some. I don’t mind getting you a glass.”

“That’d be wonderful, thank you,” you said. 

Sam nodded, walking off in the direction Sarah had went. Behind him, he heard Bucky tell you “excuse me for a moment” before a flurry of footfalls came. Sam didn’t have to look to know Bucky was following him. “Can I help you?” he asked without turning. 

“Dude, don’t flirt with my sister!” Bucky said.

Sam grabbed a glass, waiting for Sarah to finish pouring herself some lemonade. When she finished, he took the pitcher and poured a glass for you. He could tell that Bucky was getting antsy, waiting for some snarky reply. And while Sam did have one on the tip of his tongue, he thought it was more fun to see Buck sweat. 

So, instead, he ignored Bucky, walking back over to you, Bucky still hot on his heels. “A lemonade for the lady,” Sam said, handing you the glass. 

“Thank you, kind sir,” you said, smiling at him. 

“Hey, I know we just met and all,” Sam said, smiling at you, “but would you want to go on a date sometime?”

“Absolutely not!” Bucky interrupted. “She doesn’t want to go on a date with you. She’s happy to be single.”

You ignored your brother, your smile growing wider. “Cold lemonade and an offer for a hot date? How could I ever say no?”

“Like this: NO. N-o, spells no,” Bucky said. 

“Oh, what, you can flirt with his sister, but he can’t flirt with me?” you asked, looking over at Bucky. “Don’t dish it if you can’t take it.” To Sam, you said, “How ‘bout tonight, at eight, maybe?”

“Sounds perfect.”

“It sounds horrible!” Bucky said. 

“I’ll see you then. Maybe sure to knock my socks off.”

“The socks are staying on!” Bucky said. 

“Oh,” you said, “and maybe make sure Bucky can’t interrupt us, yeah? Hate to see him ruin a perfectly good date.”

“You already read my mind,” Sam laughed. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”

“There will be no taking care of anything!” 

Sarah finally made her way back to the rest of you. “Speaking of dates,” she said, “why don’t we go out tonight, too, Buck? There’s this local art gallery that just opened that I think you’d like.”

“But—” Bucky whipped his around, looking between you and Sam and Sarah. Finally, he groaned, and said, “That…Yeah, I’d actually like that. But he’d better not break my sister’s heart!”

“If anything, I’d be breaking his heart,” you teased. You looked at Sam, and added, “Not that I plan on it.”

“Oh, darlin’, you could break my heart and I’d thank you for it.”

MASTER SPY (PART 2)

[villainous-thorn]

Hey I saw you take requests-this might be kind of weird but a villain giving a hero aftercare? Maybe after the villain was rough with the hero and they're a bit angsty about it? sorry if that's weird I love you writing

Thank you, lovie! And no, not weird at all, after everything I've written. Aftercare is extremely important! I hope this turned out to your liking! <3 cw: panic attacks, fear of abandonment, low self esteem, and obviously NSFW themes

“You did such a good job, love. You were perfect, you are perfect. I love you dearly.” The villain cooed, rubbing their lotioned hands across Hero sweetly. Too sweet, if you asked the hero, sickeningly sweet compared to the thrashing they had just delivered. The juxtaposition was nearly unbearable.

The two didn’t normally get too rough, Hero was relatively new to this stuff, but they couldn’t let Villain down. Anyway, it could be much worse, their established safeword hadn’t even crossed Hero’s mind during their session. This was incredibly tame compared to some of the videos they had seen. Yes, Hero could deal with this for now, for Villain’s sake, for them to have a good time, they loved Villain after all.

“You’re being dreadfully quiet, love.” Villain whispered, landing kisses along their lover’s neck as their hands worked through mild knots. “What’s on that gorgeous mind?” A peck delivered to their temple drew them out of their thoughts.

“I wish we did this part more often. S’nice.” Hero confessed, taking a sip of their tea Villain had prepared. Hero always was abysmal at relaying their true feelings, but Villain always found a way to coax it out of them, even if Hero wasn’t entirely sure of it themselves.

Villain’s personality was magnetizing, to say the least. And Hero? Hero was just… another hero. Disposable. It felt good for them to feel personally wanted for once, especially by someone so ridiculously wondrous and beautiful as Villain. So they would play along, they couldn’t risk losing them.

“Ah, you enjoy the pampering? We can most certainly do this more often, though I will expect some in return, of course. It’s hard keeping my skin this nice for you when I can barely reach some places.” They remarked, providing a faux frown, nimble fingers working into supple flesh delicately.

The wording made Hero’s stomach flip in the worst way, they felt a deep pit, a terrible gnawing. Hero needed to say something, “Villain, I…” Words failed them as their mind scrambled to find a cohesive thought, anything to speak, anything to voice their discomfort.

“I don’t like it.” The words seemed to tumble out, they swallowed, furrowing their brow as they closed their eyes. Maybe if they visualized the words, it might help?

“Don’t like what, my sweet? The tea? The touching?”

“I don’t like it when you’re like that.”

Oh shit. Oh shit.

Villain sat up, removing their hands from their lover. “When I’m like what?” Their tone was dangerously serious.

Oh, fuck, Hero fucked up. They fucked up and said that and now Villain was gonna leave and they would be alone and god why didn’t they just keep their fucking mouth shut. Stupid stupid stupid! Say something goddammit! They’re looking right at you! Take it back, take it back, you can fix this. Apologize!

“I- I’m sorry, I didn’t. Didn’t mean that. You know how my brain gets all jumbled.” Hero laughed it off, but not well enough. Villain’s resolve didn’t waver, “When I’m like what?” They asked more sternly.

Fuck. No no no no no no no no no! NO!

Hero folded in on themselves as their mind repeated the two letters. It was so deafening, they wondered if Villain could hear it. Tears fell as they hugged their legs to their chest, making themselves as small as possible, maybe they could disappear if they kept squeezing. Their breath was erratic, choking on sobs they could no longer hold in.

No no no no, they shouldn’t have said anything, Villain was going to leave, going to leave them alone and spent, no one ever stayed, no one ever cared, no no no no no.

Suddenly, Hero felt warmth surround them, leaning into it to weep openly. It was nearly a quarter hour before their crying ceased, mind cleared, and they were able to finally understand anything happening.

Villain was softly rocking them forward and back, petting their hair, kissing their temples and whispering comforts to them.

They hadn’t left?

“It’s okay, love. Just breathe through your nose. You’re alright. I’m right here. I’ve got you. I love you. I love you.” Villain continued their murmurs. Hero did as they were told and sucked in a shaky breath through their nose, letting it escape their lips.

“That’s it, good job. I love you so much. You’re okay, my sweet. You’re alright.”

“Y’still here?” Hero confusedly hiccuped out through sniffles.

“Still here. I’ve got you, love.”

Hero shook their head, “No, why are you still here? I- I… I failed. I fucked up.”

“You did nothing wrong, my sweet. Catch your breath, we can speak later.” Villain kissed a tear from the hero’s cheek, it was filled with promise, and love.

Villain still loved them?

Hero’s breathing returned to normal within half an hour, they both laid there as Villain lazily played with their lover’s hair, waiting for them to speak.

Hero cleared their throat, “Okay.” they rasped.

“Good job, my love. Go ahead, what don’t you like?”

“I. I don’t like the rough stuff. Some of it is okay, but it- it’s too much sometimes. And I don’t like being persuaded or um… What’s the word? Bargaining? Into something.”

“Example?” Villain knew how Hero’s mind worked, knew it would be easier for a specific moment to be cited.

“Uh, like when you said about wanting ‘something in return’, it set me off… Not the way you said it!” They defended, “Just the words. Reminded me of a few times I was fucked over during work and almost got killed. It just… I can’t.”

“I understand, love. I apologize. I didn’t know I had made you uncomfortable, I’m glad you told me. I’m proud of you.”

“You aren’t… mad? You aren’t going to leave, you still want me? You seemed mad before.”

“Oh gods above, no! Apologies, my sweet. I had gotten defensive, I thought you might not want this anymore. Any of this… Us…” Villain confessed.

“Baby, are you insane? I fucking love you. I would just prefer tender over rough.” Hero laid their lips on their lover's for a moment.

Villain laughed heartily, “And I you, my love. Any thing you desire, any way you desire.”

They lovingly nestled into one another. It might not be that bad to speak your mind after all.

[keilemlucent]

while your currently drunk you can think about what it would be like to go clubbing with keigo. His possessive nature would def jump out wanting to keep you close at all times. you’d rock against his body as he holds you close keeping a keen eye but also enjoying the way your body sways over him. if he’s also inebriated who’s to say he won’t press you against the nearest wall rubbing himself against you and whispering in your ear how he could take you right here and now 🥰🥰 just a lil something 

i am seeing this sober (and with my hangover cured lmao) BUT lemme tell u... the clubbing keigo brainrot is oh so 😩💕

(nsfw)

warnings: dubcon, a little yandere keigo, alcohol, drunk reader, drunk keigo, public sex, dacryphilia

...

Keigo is particularly possessive. Not necessarily in a way that is a cause for alarm, but more so something of note.

You've come to expect the way he hovers close to you in public. How he always wants to have his hands on you, whether that be the firm press of his palm on your lower back, or a tight grip on your waist with his chin hooked over your should. Really, any way he can, he stakes his claim.

It's a little more overt and shameless when the environment allows it to be.

Occasionally, there are small clubbing events for heroes and their company to unwind. Usually open bar. Frequently messy. But cell phones are confiscated at the door, so it's more than welcomed. Heroes really never get a chance to be, so why not be sloppy together?

Keigo loves to take you to them. He loves getting the chance to show you off and let anyone who looks your way that you are his. He curbs the urge in public, sure, but here? It doesn't matter. Here, there's hungry eyes that follow your every move, but they wouldn't dare try anything. Keigo doesn't let you out of his sight. Doesn't stop touching you, and he makes sure that anyone who looks sees how fucked you are for him.

After a few drinks, you’re bolder. Your words slur a bit, not enough to make him worry, but just enough for the sway and circling of your hips to be a little freer. You can get a bit bashful around so many pros, but with the stain of liquor on your lips you’re more than happy to dance the night away.

Keigo adores it. Loves that he gets to hold your hips almost to the point of bruising as you giggle and twirl to the club beats. He loves how unrestrained you both get to be, loves how you rock against him, back arching and neck craning to nuzzle of your nose against his jaw. He can’t tell if you’re just being sweet and gracious or quietly asking for more. 

He has subtle restraint, he always does, but with a few shots having burned his throat earlier in the evening... it’s easier to indulge. He guiltlessly drags you back into him, grinding against your ass. You roll your hips back into his, leaning into his wandering touches. He can feel your breath hitch as his hands slip lower and plays with the hem of your dress. 

Keigo wishes he had an ounce of shame (no, he really doesn’t, this is way too good) as he backs you into a darker corner, wings ruffled and raised. He gets a little rougher, pushing you up against the velour-covered wall, chest first. You flatten to it and brace yourself with sweaty palms. Sweet as can be, you flash him wobbly, wanting smile. You grind back into him, spine curved perfectly under the satin of your dress.

He knows people are watching, and honestly? Let them. Let them see how desperate you are. The strobing lights and neon obscure you enough that the details of you will be hidden, but they’ll know. Keigo’s wings ruffle at the thought debauching you in front of the impromptu, wanting crowd.

He lays his body over yours, feathers shuddering in time with his heavy breath. You’re rolling your hips back into his crotch, his cock is hard enough that he’s leaking (who knew the thought of casual ownership got him off this much?)

His lips drag over your neck, teething at the soft juncture of your shoulder. You moan his name, voice cracking with desire that makes him wild. His forearm braces next to yours, and he presses you into the wall, makes you feel the weight of all of him, wings and lean muscle. 

He pulls from your neck with a growl and can’t help but pleased with the fat bruise he left behind.

“I should bruise you a collar of these,” He drips into your ear, teeth tugging at your earlobe. “If fucking you here doesn’t show everyone whose you are, that would get the message across, don’t you think?”

Your breath hitches from under the palm he slips over your lower tummy.

“Please, Kei’.”

He doesn’t know what exact thing you’re begging for, but he’ll give you everything. Anything. He rucks up your dress, and a hand slipping down the front of your panties and teasing along your slit, debating.

If he were at home, he’d take the time to prepare. He prefers to work you open on his fingers and tongue for a good while before fucking you. He doesn’t feel... right fucking you without you cumming once, twice, three times (as many times as you can stand), Under normal circumstances. But these weren’t normal circumstances.

His hold slips from your hip to your jaw, turning your gaze to his and goddammit, if the sight doesn’t take his breath away. Your eyes are glassy, pupils wide and inky, and your lips are parted, perfectly. Wanting and waiting. 

(He briefly debates fucking your throat but decides against it. He’d prefer to lick you clean on the limo ride home.)

Keigo presses his lips to yours, stealing your breath and licking into your mouth. It’s sloppy, he can feel the spit dripping down your chin as he massages your tongue with his. It’s fucking filthy and he loves it. The liquor is just making him ab bit more... honest.

He pulls away to unbutton his pants, untucking his breezy shirt to pull out his cock with a few lazy strokes. The little whine you give has him back on you, covering your body with his and teasing you sex with a single finger over your panties. 

“I’d make you beg,” he muses, softly against your ear again, “But I have a feeling you’re a little too impatient to do so properly.”

You sputter something, whether it’s a denial or affirmation, Keigo doesn’t care. He’s already pulling your panties to the side, and slipping two fingers between your lips, hardly prep at all things considered. 

Keigo spits down onto his dick and calls it good enough.

You rock back into him, shuddering and panting. You’re unabashed in it, ignoring the eyes in the room, all of your attention on him. The thought makes his cock twitch in his hand, and he can’t wait any longer. 

He hikes one of your legs up high and spears into you in one swift motion with a beat of his wings.

Your breath punches from your lungs and your palms smack against wall. You’re already weak in his arms, from the alcohol and Keigo’s thick cock splitting you. Despite the lack of preparation, you’re less tense than you could be. Thank god for vodka. 

All the same, Keigo starts slow. He wants you to hurt when this is over. He wants you to bear his bruises and imprints. You should be limping when he’s done with you. He’ll take care of you at home, patch you up how you both like so much, but for now--

He wants to leave an... impression.

Keigo picks up at his pace, gasping out a breath as he bottoms out, grinding against your ass and insides in a way that has you clenching and slurring out little pleas for more. And god, he’s happy to oblige.

He picks up his tempo, hand slipping tightening around your jaw, tucking your face to his and nipping at your lips. Your claw at the wall in front of you, but all of your leverage is in Keigo’s hands, and he uses it well.

The beat of the of the club music is the perfect tempo, the thump of it mostly disguises the slap of his hips against yours. But even the shadows of the rainbow lights can’t hide how he’s fucking ruining you. You’re hiccupping out cries for ‘more, please Keigo!’ loud enough that a few of his fucking colleagues have inched closer. It makes something in Keigo burn and he quickly goes for your neck again.

And sinks his teeth in hard enough for you to sob. 

It has you clenching around him, and he knows he isn’t going to last much longer. The rhythm has his insides clenching, and he wants nothing more than to fill you up--

The thought of it, of you leaking with him, has white explode around the edges of his vision. 

He spills inside of you, thick and hot and you gasp at the feeling. You fumble for his hand, and Keigo clasps yours easily, squeezing. The cant of his hips goes sloppy, just like the two of you. 

Softened, he slips out of you.  But Keigo is quick to replace his cock with two fingers, plugging you and tsking.

“You didn’t cum, did you, dove?”

You shake your head, still half-crying and needy, “N-no, I d-didn’t.”

“Can you keep yourself upright if I fuck you on my fingers?” Keigo muses, though it’s a genuine question. “Be honest.”

You swallow and rub at your wet, streaky cheeks, “I d-dunno. ‘M really shaky, Kei’.”

He already knows that, but it’s cute that you tell him like he’s not the cause of it.

“It’s a good thing you’ve got me then, isn’t it?” Keigo kisses your cheek, too kind for how filthy you are. “I’ll keep you up, sweetheart.”

You nod, give a little ‘thank you’ that gets broken as he spread his fingers in your cunt. His own cum drips down his wrist and he can't bother to care. He can’t bother to care about anything that isn’t the sweet little whines or the flush that is dusting your cheeks beneath tears and smeared makeup.

He bullies the bundle of nerves inside you without any care other than making you fall apart. Maybe it’s bad, the desire he has to force you to come undone by his hand in front of his peers. You’re his partner, and a bit illusive consider the relative secrecy of your relationship. 

What a goddamn introduction.

He slips another hand around your front and rolls your clit beneath to fingers. Keigo can’t help sucking another bruise into your neck, like the first one wasn’t enough of a statement. 

He speeds up his treatment as you breath gets more ragged, as you repeat his name to the flash of the strobes and lean back into him. You tense around him as you cum, crying out with a thump of your head against the wall. He holds you through it, not slowing or faltering as you shake and sputter.

Carefully, Keigo lets down the leg he’s had pinned. He anticipates how they falter, and already has an arm around your waist to keep you upright. 

“Thank you,” You murmur, your voice gentle and soft. Far too soft for what you’d just done. It’s sweet though, the way you’re pliant for him as he straightens you up.

You’re filthy, thighs covered in a mix of him and you. Keigo’s damp in his own boxer briefs and it’s not exactly... comfortably. And certainly not ideal for dancing.

You turn toward him. Your arms wrap around his neck and god, you’re too cute as you hide your face in the crook of his neck. Maybe you’re sobering up, or maybe you’re cock drunk, he isn’t sure. But it’s the same comfort that you need. He smooths a hand up your back, laying kisses over your temples and hair lines.

His colleagues are still watching, maybe more than before, because Hawks has a reputation for being a greedy, impulsive bastard, but what he doesn’t have is any reputation for being sweet. 

The vulnerability of it has him moving his wings to encircle the two of you. A bit of much-needed privacy. 

“How about I call us a ride home?” Flying drunk is never good idea. (He found out the hard way.)

You nod, gripping the front of his shirt, “I don’t think I can’t dance anymore.”

“I imagine you can’t, huh, dovey?” He teases with another peck to your cheek. 

You whine and beat his chest with your fist for a moment without a hint of ire. The night is still relatively young but given the drink in your veins and the cum in your cunt, perhaps it would be best to turn in for the evening.

(Or Keigo could fuck your throat on the ride home. The thought is still appealing.)

You mutter something unintelligible against his neck, and Keigo silently reminds himself to make sure you drink a bottle or two of water before bed. Maybe he can get a snack in your belly before you knock out for the night. 

(Or, maybe, Keigo could have his own ‘snack’ by cleaning your cunt with his tongue as you doze off--)

Keigo purrs with his thoughts as he tucks his wings to his back, ushering you to the exit, all the while feeling the (horny, jealous, surprised) stares of his colleagues at his back. 

[draco-and-tom]

Whose name?- George Weasley

WARNINGS: Unprotected sex, Dom!George, slight dry humping, Public sex, Unprotected sex, teasing, jealousy, slight hickey kink, possessive kink

A/N: barely edited on 3/29/21 for accuracy.

You were so excited for the summer this year. Normally you hate going home, but this year you get to spend it with your boyfriend. Your parents aren't normally nice to you, so when George told you that you could stay all summer you were ecstatic. All five of you walked inside the cozy home and set your trunks down. “I know it’s not much and you're going to have to sleep with me an-” you walk over to George quickly and hug him tightly “thank you,” you say into his chest. When you pull away you see a big smile on his face and can't help but smile back. He was the sweetest person you’ve ever known. “Come on then,” he said, grabbing your hand to hold in one of his, the other holding both of you’s trunks. You wave to the rest of the group as you walk up the stairs to Fred and George’s room. As room as the door opens you look at him, not able to help the huge smile that comes across your face. “I love it here,” you say “which bed is yours?”. George points to a bed and smiles. You walk over to your boyfriend’s bed and lay down, “Everything is so cozy”. George chuckled “glad you like it, love,” he said, kissing your cheek. “I don't know why you thought I wouldn't like sleeping with yall. I mean come on….. I get to snuggle with George Weasley” you laugh and he lays down with you. “You would like that huh?” he asked, wrapping you in his arms, you humming in response. “Love you” you mumbled, “love you too darling”.

You wake up to an owl squawking at your window. George could sleep through almost anything, not that he had a choice with how many siblings he has.  You get up and walk over to the window opening it for the bird. You recognized the owl, it was Oliver's. You take the letter from the bird’s beak and read who it’s for.                                 To: Fred & George. From: Oliver Wood You walk over to where your boyfriend is sleeping and smile at how peaceful he looked. You pepper George’s face with kisses, not being able to help yourself. George starts to wiggle in his sleep before he smirks with his eyes closed. You noticed, but keep on kissing him. “Nice way to wake up might I say” George opens his eyes to look at you when you stop kissing him. You rolled your eyes “Sorry” you said, trying not to blush, but feeling your cheeks burn. He chuckled “no please don't be sorry. It’s adorable honestly.” He leaned in and gave you a soft meaning full kiss before pulling away. “What’s that?” he said pointing to the letter. “Oliver wrote to you and Fred” George closed his eyes and put his hands over his face mumbling something like “goddammit Fred, fucking ass-” you pulled his hands away and could tell he was frustrated “What’s wrong?”. George looked up at you and rolled his eyes “Fred invited Oliver to play quidditch. I told him not to invite him” he groaned “It’s hard not to punch him in the face when he’s looking at you like he would take you up against the wall”. You blushed “George...he doesn’t like me like that. And even if he did I love you and only you. I'm all yours.” George nods. “Promise?” he asked “I promise”. George leaned up and kissed you softly and kissed you passionately. You kissed back, loving the feeling of his lips touching yours. You could always tell how much he cared when he kissed you. George flipped you over to where he was on top and started to kiss down your neck. You began to whimper as he sucked a mark on your skin until his hands started to tickle your sides. “AH GEORGE STOP THAT YOU T-TWAT” you screamed through your laughter. George stopped and you both laughed. “Thanks, George I was kinda getting into that before you ruined it!” he smiled “I know. I mean you should’ve seen it. You were whimpering and I could see your lip quivering, I even heard my name a couple of times,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows and you. You blushed and rolled your eyes. You look over to see Fred in the doorway with an almost scared look on his face. “Bloody hell you two, get a room”

When Oliver arrives

You and George are cuddling on the couch and watching some muggle movie when Oliver opens the door he walks in and looks you up and down. “Hello there Y/N,” he said “Hey” you responded before looking at your boyfriend to find he was already looking at you and tightening his grip on your body. “Hey y/n” Oliver tried to get your attention. You gave George a reassuring peck on the lips before looking at Oliver “Yeah?” you asked. “What's that bruise on your neck?” he asked, leaning closer to get a better look at it. “Well if you must know wood, it’s a hickey” Oliver backed up to his original spot and made a surprised face “hmm… kinda weird looking don't you think. It’s got a weird blob shape to it eh’? “. You rolled your eyes, starting to see what your boyfriend was talking about. You could feel George stiffen at his words. He tended to be confident in the moment, but self-conscious afterward. “Actually I  like them,” you say looking at Oliver “you know sometimes I wish he would do it more often to be honest with you”. Oliver looked at you like he didn’t know what to say, so you turned your attention to someone more important, your boyfriend. George leaned over to whisper in your ear “Is that true love? Cause if so… I'm sure I can make some arrangements”. George pulled back to watch your reaction. You felt your cheeks get hot and look at your hands in your lap, biting your lip “Mhm” you mumble.  George chuckles and kisses your cheek and you hear Oliver walk out of the room. “You know…” he whispered “I can't tell if seeing you flustered makes me want to fuck you into my mattress or cuddle with you, but I'm debating doing both,” he said, causing you to whimper. George kissed you on the cheeks and got up from his spot on the couch. “Well, I should go get the others so that we can plan out the whole quidditch thing,” he said. Once everyone was in the living room George and Fred spoke up “what are the teams?”. Ginny smiled “Well, I was thinking we could change our plans” she smirked. “Mom and Dad left a little while ago, so I thought we should play truth or dare”. Ron rolled his eyes “Really ginny, we aren't little kids anymore”. Ginny scoffed “Actually Ronald, you didn’t let me finish” you fought to keep in your laugh. Ron really does have a problem with cutting people off. “I was going to tell you that I have some  veritaserum,” she said grabbing a glass bottle out of her pocket, “thought we’d make the steaks higher. If you refuse a dare, or pick truth, then you have to take some” she smirked. “Oh, I'm so in,” you and George said at the same time.  George and you looked at each other and started laughing, making Oliver roll his eyes. The six of you all began to walk outside to the fire that Fred made for the game, before sitting in a circle beside it, Ginny set the bottle in the middle. “y/n” she asked “truth or dare”. You rolled your eyes and chuckled “truth”. She nodded her head and people around the circle laughed “okay. Take a drop” she gestured to the potion. You reach for the veritaserum and put a drop on your tongue. “Okay y/n” she giggles “Have you and George had sex, and if you have how good was he”. You can't stop the words from coming out of your mouth and immediately respond. “Oh yeah, a few times actually.” people around the circle laughed. “And for the second question… god yes. Don't even get me started on how good he feels,” you said “okay y/n that’s enough” but you continued “I mean god, I would be down to let him fuck me right now if you all weren't here.” Everyone in the circle starts to laugh except for Oliver and George. Oliver looked pissed and George was well smirking proudly.  “I mean he knows a lot more than he’ll tell you I ca-” Ginny cuts you off, giggling “Okay y/n, we get it,” she said, trying to catch her breath “it’s another turn,” she said and turned to George. “Truth or dare?” she asked. “Do you even know me?!” he asked, pretending to be offended. Ginny rolled her eyes “I dare you to go have 40 minutes in heaven with y/n”. George smirked and grabbed your hand, pulling you with him back into the burrow. Once you were inside George kissed you “Did the potion wear off yet?”. You nodded your head, “I think so.”. He hums “Do you touch yourself thinking about me?” he asked. You looked down at the ground and blushed. “Yep. It’s worn off,” he said and pulled you over to the couch. He lightly pushed you onto the couch and climbed on top of you. George kissed you and you wrapped your legs around his waist, feeling how hard he was. He took his lips off of yours and started trailing them down your neck, leaving marks along the way. “You’re already s-so hard” you whimpered “How could I not be? A few minutes ago you were bragging about how good I make you feel. As soon as you started talking I knew that I was going to have to take care of you later. Ginny’s a good wingman” he said, moving back up to your jawline. You whimpered at his words and the feel of his lips on your skin. “George I want you so bad. Please make me feel good” you said through your whimpers, causing his hips to buck against yours on accident. You moaned loud at the friction you’ve been needing. George smirks at your reaction, this time rolling his hips against yours on purpose. You moan louder “George! Please”. George moves his mouth up to your ear “Did you want something darling?” he asked. “Please fuck me George. I need you, all yours” you whine out. George groans “Damn right you are”. He gets off of you and starts to take off his clothes as quickly as possible, you soon follow his reactions. George moves over to the couch “come here beautiful” he said and you oblige. You get on top of him, unable to hold in your whines. You knew what was about to happen, George has fucked you like this before, It’s probably your favorite position.  Your boyfriend helped you lift your hips and aligned himself with your throbbing pussy before slowly pushing your hips down. “Fuck you’ve got such a tight little hole” he grunts. George’s grip on your hips tightened as he lifted you off of his cock and slid you back down. George got faster with every thrust. He was fucking up into you and you lived for it. “George” you moaned loudly, making the boy fuck harder and deeper into you. You writhed above him, taking everything he gave you. You started feeling yourself clench around George’s cock. “I'm so close George'' you whined “Me too,” he said between uneven breaths. George’s movements stop for a moment, hearing the front door squeak. George looked to the door frame and saw Oliver looking at them, deciding to let him hear you. He was going to make it clear that when you moan, you moan for him and him only. You didn’t know that Oliver was there, you were feeling too good to pay attention to your surroundings. George pounded roughly into you. You cried out broken moans of his name with every thrust. George kept eye contact with Oliver. George could tell that Oliver was pissed and didn’t give a fuck, he wanted George's girl. “Who do you belong to again?” he growled “You!” you moaned out and tucked your head to suck marks on his skin. “I'm sorry darling. I didn’t catch their name” he groaned “who makes you feel this good?” you moaned louder for him “George Weasley!”. George smirked at Oliver and knew how close you were, you get louder and -if possible- tighter. You cum hard, tightening around George’s cock and whimpering his name. George couldn't handle going much longer after hearing your pretty little whimpers and came inside of you. You lift your head and look to see what George was staring at “oh, hey Oliver”

TAGLIST: @georgeswh0re