#if I’m stupid enough to knuckle down and do it knowing full well that sending it out into the world would ruin me mentally

[ardentpoop]

wonder of wonders: feeling like your existence contributes nothing to the world makes it hard to want to stay in it

[roetrolls]

Reined In

“Are you out of your mind? Are you stupid? What the fuck is wrong with you!?”

“Benjin,” Veylin interjects softly, ineffectual plea glancing off you as Mallum stares you down.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you?” He shoots back, defensive. “I was doing you a favor!”

“A favor? What the fuck do you mean a favor!?”

“You were better off not knowing.”

“Better off?” You echo incredulously, heart hammering in your chest, The way it pounds against your ribs, you’re half convinced it wants to kick them out and go strangle the idiot itself.

“What good would it have done?”

“What- WHAT GOOD!? How about fucking safety, Mallum? How about not getting ambushed?”

“You wouldn’t–”

“I think we deserve a little fucking warning, Mallum!”

“You wouldn’t have been ambushed!” He shouts, fins flaring outward 

“Oh really? You know that? You can see the future now, Mal?”

“Fucking listen to me!”

“Oh, I’m listening! I’m all fucking ears! Go ahead, what vision did you have? Was it anything like his?” You cock your head at Zurven, tucked silently against Veylin’s hip at the edge of the room. 

You hate this. You hate acting like this, hate that they’re seeing you like this, but you can’t seem to quell the fury that roars inside your throat. The heat of it is enough to make your hands shake, and you clench them at your sides.

“I told Aderae–”

“Oh! Great! Aderae got to know before we did, I’m so glad! What a bond you two must have, sounds really beautiful.”

“Would you let me fucking finish!?” he snaps. “I told Aderae I saw them. You were safe.”

“Okay!? And what about you!?”

“What about me?”

“They have your fucking blood, Mallum! They have means to fucking track you, you don’t think we need to know that?”

“No! I don’t!”

“You don’t.”

“It didn’t concern you.”

“It’s fucking Harlan!”

“Yeah!?” Mallum throws his arms out in some semblance of a shrug, fixing you with a bewildered stare. “He’s not your problem, Ben! It’s not your job to save us from him!”

“He is my problem, Mallum! And I don’t expect you to fucking get it, but I thought you could at least use your fucking brain. This isn’t the kind of thing you keep from us. That’s not your choice to make.”

“Well maybe it should be!”

A dark cloud seems to descend over the room, over you, as the words leave his mouth. 

“Excuse me?” you ask, voice startlingly low in your own ears. 

The tension, thick and binding, constricts around your lungs. You flex an antsy fist in hopes of shaking it while Mallum watches you with expression unflinching, stone cold in his conviction that he has truly done nothing wrong. It sends another wave of anger crashing over you, searing and violent.

“You weren’t there,” you grit, uncomfortably aware of your own hands. You relax them just to clench your fists again, arms laden with an energy you don’t know how to dispel.

“That’s exactly why! None of you are going to be objective when–”

“This isn’t the fucking time to be objective! You put us in danger, Mallum, you put yourself in danger! Do you seriously not understand how fucked that is?”

“You were safe,” Mallum huffs again, his impatient indignation like a slap to your face. “I wasn’t worried.”

“Gosh, well in that case!” your sardonic tone is offset slightly by the volume of your voice. Try as you might, you can’t seem to lower it, locked into a shout that leaves your head pounding and your lungs pumping. “My bad, you guys, Mallum wasn’t worried! False alarm!”

“If you knew, you would never leave the hive again.”

“For good fucking reason!”

“I’m telling you, Benjin, it’s not a big deal!”

“YES IT IS!” you shriek, arms tensing as you are hit suddenly with the impulse to swing. A voice in the back of your head urges you to get your frustrations out, to strike the wall and allow the white-hot rage buzzing in your ears to pour through your arm into the world around you. You can almost feel it, like a phantom’s touch across your knuckles, aching, begging you to drive them into something with the full brunt of your emotion.

Your breath catches in your throat, anger all at once replaced with stark, overwhelming fear. That instinct isn’t yours. It shouldn’t be yours.

Chest heaving and head swirling, you take a small step back, eyes wide, then spin on your heel and storm from the room without a word.

[hangmanapologist]

lmao I sent that and then fell asleep for like 11 hours but I’m here now! *cracks knuckles* so Rhett has always been made fun of by his family for being hairier, his brother and father never really having much body hair themselves, but he has hair everywhere. it’s something he’s kinda insecure about. but with hookups it never really comes up because honestly they never get further than just wiggling their pants down far enough to get down to business, so that’s not really a problem. the problem comes when he first meets you. he doesn’t just want a quick one and done. he wants to take you out and treat you right, even if that means you don’t do more than a sweet kiss goodnight for the first seven dates you go on. but date number 8? it’s on. (you invited him in for “coffee” hoping that taking initiative would spark something in him. it does.) you’re straddling him on the couch, grinding and whimpering against him, enjoying the way his arm hair feels against the skin of your back where your shirt has come up. he’s so hard underneath you, you can’t wait to get at him so you slip down to the floor and start undoing his jeans when he’s like “uhhh… you don’t… it’s the first time so don’t feel like you have to” and you’re like 🤨 bc what? and when you express that you want to suck him off he’s like “…are you sure? I’m kinda hairy.” and you’re like “I know I like it” before going to town which blows. his. mind. after he cums you address what he said before and he tells you that it’s something he was made fun of and that other girls have complained that it’s scratchy and not cute. and you’re like “okay well they’re stupid. you’re hot and sexy and I love a hairy man. gonna floss with your chest hair.” and he full body blushes, mouth wide open in shock. his chin almost hitting the ground when you announce that you’re gonna ride his thigh. his eyes get glassy when he sees how wet his leg hair is as you’re moving against him. and you’re almost in tears because it feels so good. after you cum he gets you on your back and starts talking about “how puffy your clit is baby, is it all swollen because of my leg hair or because you wanna cum again? hmmm?” and then proceeds to eat you out until you’re wiggling away from overstimulation. he’s hard again and decides that it would be fun to make you ride him until you both cum again, his pubic hair scrapping again your sensitive clit makes you cry and it weakens your legs so you can hardly move and he’s like “oh poor baby. you need help?” then flips you onto your stomach, props your hips up and works you both over until you’re dripping with his cum. (you think your clit is gonna get a slight reprieve but his calloused finger makes its way around, getting you off one more time before he spills into you.) drooling and brainless on the couch he gently cleans you both up and gets you to bed. in the morning he’s trying to decide whether or not to sneak out because that was a lot for the first time and what if she didn’t like it and he’s spiraling when you roll over and play with his chest hair, kissing the smooth skin of his shoulder “morning cowboy. wanna go grab some breakfast? I’m starving after last night.” and he’s like “it wasn’t too much?” after kissing him to death, morning breath and all, you’re like “it was but in a good way and while we can’t do that every-time we will definitely be doing it again. now feed me.” y’all shower together and it’s not until you’re walking into the diner ahead of him that you’re walking a lil funny and he can’t help but be smug about it and wrap his arm around your waist, making sure no one looks at his girl funny. you enjoy breakfast and then the rest of your lives together.

THE HAIRY RHETT AGENDA IS ALIVE I LOVE THIS SONG

idk why him apologizing for being hair is so hot but

When he’s fucking you and he’s on top and you’re skin to skin you can feel his chest and stomach hair rubbing against you, especially your nipples and that’s what can send you over the edge a lot of the time!

[heckinconfusedparade]

Tails get Sick :(

CW: Emetophobia

In a tragic turn of events, Sonics healthy status has passed the bug to Tails.

Tails wakes up early in the morning feeling cold. He gets up to gather more blankets and discovers he has a headache.

He goes to Sonics bed and gently shakes him a little “Sonic.. Sonic wake up.” Sonic opens his eyes and sits up “oh hey.. didja have a nightmare? What’s wrong?” “I’m cold.. and I have a headache.” Tails sheds a single tear. Knuckles emerges from the hatch in the attic “I heard there was trouble and came as soon as I could.” Sonic pulls Tails into bed with him “your spidey senses were right this time, Knux. Someone’s got a little cold.” Sonic wraps his arms around Tails to warm him up. Knuckles gets a sad look “nooo.. baby brother we will heal you.” he makes the other two scootch over so he can hold Tails from his other side. Tails, content with brotherly affection and warmth drifts back to sleep.

Tom goes up to wake the boys in the morning and finds them all together like this. He snaps a photo, cause this is just too cute. Tails’ ear twitches, and he wiggles out of his brothers holds enough to turn to look at Tom “G’morning Daddy..” “good morning, buddy. Did you sleep well? Looks like you’ve gotten some good quality snuggles.” “I woke up feeling cold and had a headache, so.. yeah.” Tom lifts Tails up out of the cuddle pile “let’s check your temperature. Do you still have a headache?” “Mhm..” Tails lays his head on his dads shoulder “ok then let’s also get you something for that.” They head downstairs.

Sonic and Knuckles quickly wake up without their little brother in their arms and follow them down. Maddie knows what’s happening the moment she sets her eyes on the lil man. This is truly tragic times.

Maddie is unable to take another day off.. so Tom is staying instead! Sonic and Knuckles did not want to leave their baby brother in such a state, but agreed to go to school if they got hourly and eventful updates.

Tails is put in some cute lil airplane footie pyjamas and settles on the couch with a juice box. He’d be living his best life rn if it wasn’t for that stupid cold of his.

Whilst eating a some leftover soup, he feels it. He goes and finds the trash can to eject his lunch into.

Then he goes and finds Tom, who’s in the bathroom looking for the meds for Tails. He turns to see Tails standing in the doorway.

“Daddy I frew up..”

“ok Tails, show me where.” Tails takes him to the trash. Tom is thankful he didn’t have to clean it off the floor. While Tom is throwing out the trash, Tails is camping out in the bathroom.

On the second ejection he starts to cry. Full on sob. He’s not scared, or in pain, he just feels absolutely miserable and he has not lived a life long enough to know how to cope. Tom comforts him until the feeling passes, and cleans him up.

After they can confirm Tails can keep things down, he is given some light food and some water so he can have something in his system. He tries to fight the meds, but Tom pulls out with the “here comes the airplaaaaane” and to Tails’ delight, the kids meds aren’t absolutely atrocious. He likes bubblegum flavour.

Tails curls up on Tom for a nap, and Tom updates Maddie. Then while he’s texting Sonic and Knuckles, who are both on lunch break and hanging out together with their friends, as soon as they see Tom texting them outside of the hourly schedule, they have already arrived home.

Tom is not happy to see them home. Sonic and Knuckles on the other hand are happy to see that Tails looks ok.

Tom whispers, hoping to not wake Tails “what are you two doing here?? Get back to school now. You don’t have permission to leave, and I don’t want your mother getting a call saying you two have run off.” Knuckles brings a blanket and gives it to Tails “we were just worried. You were sending dots outside of our hourly schedule.” Sonic nods “yea. We’ve been worried allllll day. What happened?” Tom updates them. They’re heartbroken. Tom didn’t tell them that Tails cried, because that would be too much. Sonic feels bad that he passed his sickness to his little brother.

The two return to school and face some scolding from their teachers for leaving.

Tails wakes up feeling a little better. Tom takes his temp again, and the fever is gone. He’s still fighting a nasty headache and cough tho. Tom helps cheer the kit up by giving him a mint, and that HELPS A TON.

Tails looks at his father “daddy?” “Yea, Bud?” “Why do you and mommy lock the cabinet storing the mints?” “That’s because you’re a little mint stealin monster.” “Am not!” “Are too. Were you or were you not just going feral the other day over a left out tin?” “…” “I didn’t know you could hiss.” “Now you do!” “Any more secrets?“ “hmm…” Tails gets off Tom and stands up on the floor. He turns his feet around. Tom isn’t sure how to feel, for this kid is double jointed. “O-okay you can stop now-“ Tom says as Tails laughs and coughs his way back into his fathers arms.

Tom can’t help but laugh too, cause Tails’ laugh is super contagious.

Maddie comes home first. She immediately goes to hug Tails and kiss her husband hello. “Bleh!” Tails doesn’t like to witness the love. Maddie’s response is to lift him up and smooch his furry little cheeks. Tails’ giggle fit is a blessing.

Then the other two return. They have get well cards and get well soon balloons. Knuckles has a card signed by his entire class hoping Tails gets better. He might have orchestrated this. Sonic has cards from himself and his good friends. Tails gleefully reads through the cards and takes his balloons.

“You guys know I’m not dying right?” Tails says with a small smirk, “yea we know. We just wanted to make sure you know you’re loved and appreciated in this hard times and… whatever else Knuckles said during his long monologue about Tails Appreciation.” Sonic says. Knuckles huffs “you covered the main parts and that is what is important.” Tails smiles up at his big brothers “I love you guys!” “I love you too, little buddy.” “As do I, fox.”

[silverdelirium]

SWEET TOOTH | J.P

SUMMARY ➠ ice cream man!james fucks you in his ice cream truck

WARNINGS ➠ fingering, dirty talk, semi-public sex, praise kink, humiliation (?), pet names, bit of a breeding kink, not proofread

WORD COUNT ➠ 2.0k

A/N ➠ the long awaited ice cream man james smut ;) oh and this is for @hellounicorn <33

———

you were in that stage between dreams and reality when you heard it.

the small tune that you memorized since you started living in this neighbourhood— he always passed by in summer; and god, were you craving something cold and tasty to munch on when it was a thousand degrees outside.

you hummed in content as you lifted yourself from your bed, stretching your lips and rummaging through your closet in an attempt to find a comfortable and decent attire to meet james; as weird as it sounded, you wanted to impress the ice cream man and it was safe to say that you had developed a small crush— james had always been so nice to you, going as far as giving you free popsicles in exchange for a brief conversation.

the tip of your nerves went on fire as you stepped outside; spotting him buckling his belt. he was wearing a tight fit white shirt that had you drooling and shuddering.

——

“there you go, kiddo” chuckled james after delivering a chocolate ice cream to the last kid of the big crowd that had formed earlier.

he sighed in disappointment when he realized that you still hadn’t come out yet— he had purposely parked the van a few feet from your house, just so you could maybe pop by and have a nice chat with him.

truth is that james missed you. he hadn’t seen you since last summer and it had already been a shitty weather day, he knew you would be the only one to lift his mood up with that bright smile of yours.

james went back to the driver’s seat and as he finished buckling himself up he heard a small scream of his name upfront.

holy fuck— thought james.

you were wearing a small cute sundress that accentuated your figure in the best way possible, and when he let his eyes travel down to your chest, he caught a glimpse of your peebled nipples. leading him to get into the conclusion that you might only be wearing panties underneath that dress. his cock ached at the thought.

he stepped on the pedal lightly and drove closer to you, until the truck was right in line with your home.

“hi there, sweetheart!” he greeted, unbuckling his seatbelt and going into the back— where he was met with your face through the open window.

“hello james” you giggled “long time, no see, huh?”

“damn right you are, honey— i was starting to wonder if you moved out, what took you so long?” he spoke in a querying tone.

the tip of your ears and nose grew hot as you remembered struggling to find something cute for him. “oh— uhm, i was just— looking for my shoes you know?” you awkwardly chuckled, staring down at the five dollar bill in your hand as if it was the most interesting thing in the planet.

he gave you a bit of an amused look before shaking his head “whatever you say, pretty girl” your tummy fluttered as the nickname dripped from his lips like sweet honey.

“what would you like today, hm?”

“oh just— something sweet and creamy, like an ice cream popsicle” you shrugged, not noticing the effect your words had on james.

“i know something of yours that is sweet and creamy” he murmured under his breath. “what was that?” “oh, no nothing” he gave you a tight lipped smile, his cheeks dusting pink.

“right well uhm, the ice cream”

“oh shoot yeah— what uh” he paused to clear his throat “what flavor where you thinking of, petal?” and his sweet flirty persona was back on, as if the thought of having a face full of your pussy wasn’t replaying on his head over and over again.

“i don’t know” you groaned, almost embarrassed at your sudden indecisiveness.

“you can come in you know? take a look at the flavors and see which one catches your attention more” he offered, sparing you a small smile.

“won’t you get in trouble for that?” you cocked your head to the side. “i don’t mind” he shrugged, the corners of his lips still quirked up as he opened up the back door for you; already holding both of his hands out to help you climb in.

what a gentleman, you thought.

“there we go, honey. take your time.” spoke james as he patted your waist twice, sending a buzz of excitement all throughout your body that almost made you shudder on the spot.

the variety of flavours seemed so appetizing you started wishing you would’ve brought your whole wallet to buy all of them at once, but a peach flavoured ice cream would do.

as you went to give james the money he only chuckled and said “you know i wouldn’t charge a pretty little thing like you, your presence is enough” before handing you the sweet and throwing you a wink as he rested his back on the frame of the window.

the way his muscles flexed as he crossed them over his chest had you questioning whether you should’ve asked for his cock instead of a fucking popsicle—

and god… that damn shirt had your core clenching around air as your mind wandered about him fucking you in every position possible, he just looked so elegantly inviting.

“you done staring, sweetheart?”

shit. you didn’t even realize.

“oh my god, i am so sorry, i should probably leave” you nervously laughed, heading towards the back doors, only to have a large hand around your abdomen stop you.

holy fuck. james potter’s body was pressed against yours and you almost let out a moan as his breath fanned over the side of your petrified face.

“you can’t just leave me all alone in here, sweetie” his hand traveled lower down your mid drift. by now, your stupid peach flavored popsicle was long gone somewhere on the floor, melting. almost as much as you were against james’ hefty chest.

you swallowed thickly, blinking a few times to collect yourself as you turned your head to the side, it was hot breath against hot breath now; if only one of you made the first move—

“oh fuck this” he growled, disconnecting his palm from your pelvis and instead linking it with your jaw to have more access against your lightly chapped lips.

the lip-lock was vulgar and enticing since the start, both of you feeling the luscious sparks that it sent to your sex.

“i’ve been way too fucking patient” you heard him mumble as he took your lower lip in between his teeth, coaxing a whine as you felt your core drip with arousal. “bet you think about me when that pretty cunt is begging for relief, huh?”

“yes jamie, i do. i fucking do” you heaved, impassionedly grinding your bum against his bulging crotch. “i’m gonna fuck you nice and long today, baby. until all you can do is beg for more”

his words went straight to your sopping cunt as he waddled you forward, his mouth still on yours, to the window.

his lips detached from yours. “there we go baby, stay nice and loud for me, yeah? want the whole fucking neighbourhood to know who’s stuffing you full.”

your fingers gripped the edge of the window tightly as james nipped at your neck, his left hand bunching up your dress while the right one’s simultaneously prodded at your swollen button. “you came all bare for me, honey? bet you wanted me to fuck you good once and for all” he groaned, not giving you a warning as he slipped two fingers at once, leaving you a gasping mess as your knuckles turned white from holding on to the frame of the aperture you were leaned on.

“james!” you cried out quietly, rocking your hips back onto his fingers as the ones from his free hand made a path to your throat, lightly squeezing the sides.

his digits made wonders to your contracting insides, juices already making a sticky mess on your thighs as he curled them upwards, caressing your g-spot in a mouth-watering manner; the pad of his thumb made way to your clit, soothing it in tight figure eights as your legs shook, pulling small wails after wails from you.

feeling the thrill of the enticing orgasm building up, you brought one of your hands back to tangle itself on the male’s dark curls, only to have him tut at you as he removed his drenched fingers.

“wha— no! please!” you shamelessly begged, not giving a shit about anything else besides the ache on your heat.

james did nothing besides giving you a wicked grin as he let go of your neck, now focusing on lowering down his trousers— which quickly had you shutting up as you stared in fascination.

he was definitely the biggest you have had so far. a nice length with a thickness that would make a barbarous stretch feel so fucking delirious.

“i’m not sure if i can fit in that tiny hole of yours, precious. maybe i should just leave you like this” he fake pouted, a hint of amusement lacing his features as your bottom lip trembled at the thought of not having him inside you in the next fifteen seconds or so. “no! it’ll fit! make it fit” you mewled, rubbing your pooling cunt against his grith.

“so impatient” he chuckled, stabilizing your hips with his hands before forcing himself into you in one single unforgiving push, making you let out a small scream as your eyes shut tight.

james gave you a few moments for you to get comfortable before you rocked your hips backwards into his as a sign of consent. his hand travelled upwards to grope at your breasts as he thrusted deeply.

“my god, you feel like absolute heaven” he grunted, and even though you couldn’t hear him, the strain in his voice gave away that he was probably with his head thrown back, abs clenching and biceps flexed as his chest heaved, a sight for sore eyes truly.

your mouth stayed agape as his tip kissed your g-spot. your vision clouded with small black stars that had you genuinely question whether they were really painted in your house or not.

james started with a brutal speed since the start, the smacking of your skin against his was filthy and loud, you could only hope mr. benson wouldn’t go for a walk today.

the van rocked and lightly squeaked with every thrust of james’ and you tried your best to contain every loud moan and cry that might alarm the whole block. james had other plans though. “say my name baby, don’t hold back, i want to have your pretty moans fucking memorized”

you complied, throwing your last fucks out of the window and chanting his name like a prayer as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, his strong arms moving to hold you up by the bending of your elbows, causing your spine to arch in a perfect C as james continuously grunted in your ear.

“you’re gonna be absolutely cockdrunk after i’m done with you, honey” he groaned, speeding up the push of his hips and biting down on your shoulder as he brought you both closer to the edge.

“james! i’m gonna cum so hard, don’t stop please, don’t fucking stop” you sobbed, moaning uncontrollably as the coil in your stomach unravelled without any form of forewarning.

“there we go, cream my cock so nicely baby” whispered james, still fucking your quivering pussy through the orgasm with an aggressive pace. “oh fuck, this tight cunt is gonna milk me dry, yeah?”

you could only answer him with a whimper as your legs almost gave out on you if it wasn’t for him holding you up, a few more sloppy thrusts and he was spraying your fluttering walls with his cum, whines escaping his lips.

a breathy moan passed through your mouth as he pulled out, his load slowly flowing out of your puffy folds.

“you look so hot when you’re stuffed full of my cum, sweetheart.” rasped james, peppering your cheeks with soft kisses.

———

i’m tagging the people who clicked “all” in my taglist, dm me if you wish to be removed.

🏷: @selenesheart @siriusblackwifeeey @alohastitch0626 @remuslupinswhore @caosfanblr @memorycharm @abbott27 @elizabethrosedarling @samaraaaaa @malfoyspov @ildm4ev @kieracass4lyfers @acciodignity @methblinds @adrianscumslut @wh0re4blaise @dracomalfoys-wh0re @dlmmdl @lolooo22 @darlingmalfoy @littlemissnoname13 @riddleswh0rekrux @lostaurorax @alexavolturisblog @marauderswh0re1 @black-rose-29 @emma67 @mypainistemporary @mauvea @teenwolfbitches28 @lissa-duh @paniicing @alohastitch0626 @caosfanblr @memorycharm @youreso-golden @malfoyspov

[check your privacy settings if i wasn’t able to tag you ]

[paperjunk]

Screwdriver Please

A one-shot between Ames (Life or Death) and Rooster I wrote while enjoying the first Screwdriver I've had in a month. Yay for alcohol!

Warnings: None...that I know of...

Summary: The fight broke out faster than Ames could stop it, and by then, she wasn't in the mood to try and step between the two.

Leaning against the bar at the Hard Deck, her shot of Vodka still in her hand, Ames watched the squabble between Phoenix and Hangman with varying degrees of interest. Rooster's hip was pressing against her to her right as he ordered several more shots when she abruptly felt a hand grip her ass. Without a second thought, she pivoted, seeing only the man's Greenbay Packers t-shirt and blonde hair before she threw her drink in the moron's face. Unfortunately, before her fist could make the connection he so desperately longed for, a larger fist shot past her, and Rooster's knuckles made a fast link with the man's nose. She watched the asshole's head snap back, and a voice that sounded like thunder rolled out in a drunken rage. The next thing she knew, Rooster and the blonde were trading blows.

Ames stepped back, reaching for the freshly deposited shots Rooster left behind. Throwing one back, she watched the pair careen into the bartop several patreon's down. Sending people hustling to get out of their way, if not running. Some women cried out as the stranger landed a blow so hard Rooster went down on one knee, and several screamed again when his right hook met flesh and bone, throwing the blonde back several steps.

"I love that no one is trying to stop this," Hangman's voice rose over the din beside her. Ames could hear the smile in it without having to look back at him.

"No one's stupid enough," Phoenix replied, voicing Ames' thoughts for her. "Twenty says Rooster takes him," she said with a wide smile.

"Oh Phoenix, my dear, I'm not stupid enough to take that bet," he replied with a wide grin of his own.

Taking another shot, Ames watched Rooster's foot connect with the man's chest, the front doors breaking open as his body was sent tumbling through, and several people followed, cheering on the fight. Sighing, she picked up her third shot and followed after Hangman and Phoenix as they, too, found it hard to look away from the train wreck happening before them.

"So, how drunk do you think he is?" Fanboy asked, taking a swig of his beer, just as another blow landed, and the blonde swayed, feet staggering before falling back onto the pavement—where he stayed.

"Stupid drunk," Ames replied as two men tried to help the blonde up, who was quickly regaining his consciousness.

"Next time, don't grab a random chick in a bar full of Sailors," one of the men said, picking the fellow up from the ground.

"Aviators," Rooster shouted, brushing his fingers through his messed hair. "Sailors and Aviators!"

Ames watched as the crowd dissipated, leaving Rooster swaying slightly in the night. "See you two back inside," Hangman said with a chuckle and shake of his head.

"No fighting, Mom and Dad," Fanboy said with a broad grin and laugh as he pulled the doors closed behind him.

"You enjoy yourself there?" Ames asked, boots taking her across the pavement, dirt grinding out under each step.

"I wasn't about to let some idiot grab my girl," Rooster replied, rubbing at his cheek, which had a quick set of bruises forming if the red splotches across his face were any indicator.

"I don't need you to protect me, Bradshaw," she said, stopping in front of him. Looking down at the shot still in her hand, Rooster grabbed it, slamming it back.

"Again, I wasn't about to let an asshole grab you," he said, eyes dropping down to her to see a single brow raised in irritation. He knew that look all too well. He'd seen it one too many times when they were on base, and she thought the words that were coming out of someone's mouth were fucking asinine. Usually, the ones coming out of his.

"Air Force, or did you forget?"

Rooster sighed, rolling his eyes, unable to stop himself. That gained him a rather cold, hard look. "The guy was drunk off his ass, and you had to punch him in the nose," Ames started but was quickly cut off.

"If you were that concerned about the guy, you could have stopped me. Or, if you wanted, you could have just gone off with—" Suddenly, Ames took a rough hard step forward, boots throwing loose rocks and dirt across the parking lot in a skitter. Her abrupt aggression caught Rooster off guard, forcing him back a step in response. He still didn't understand how she could do that to him. He was 6'1", while she was only 5'7", the same height as Maverick, and not even Maverick getting in his face had made him take a step or two back.

"I'm going to stop you before you say something dickish," she retorted, snatching the shot glass from him. Green eyes never leaving his own brown-hued.

"I don't need you to protect me, Lieutenant."

"I know that," Rooster said, tossing his hands up in exasperation, "But it's not going to stop me from wanting to protect you. And I'm damn well going to!"

She stared at him a bit longer, her eyes narrowing just slightly before she took in a deep breath, sighing heavily as her lids fell shut.

"I know."

Rooster didn't stop the grin that pulled at the corners of his lips and quickly regretted it as he tasted the familiar warmth of blood running into his mouth and down his chin.

"Bradshaw," Ames said, reaching up to brush the blood away from his chin. "Idiot."

"Ouch," he said with a subtle smile, eyes watching her, fingers brushing against her wrist, the other hand at her waist pulling her in closer.

"Oh, that hurts?" she asked with a grin of her own.

"You could kiss me and make it feel totally better," Rooster said with a bright smile, ignoring the pain it was causing to do so.

Ames actually started to laugh, her slender shoulders rising and falling. "A drink then," she replied in her laughter and suddenly turned, twisting her body out of Rooster's arms and his reach. And he did reach out to stop her in his own laughter, only to miss by a few inches, forcing him to follow after her, fingers grasping bits of fabric and finally an arm as he caught up with her. His arms encircling her just before they walked back into the bar together.

"A screwdriver, please."

"What's that?" Rooster asked, pressing himself against her. Each breath and movement transcribed into her back. "A drink or a position?" He whispered into her ear just before pressing his lips to the delicate skin, his mouth finding its way down her neck and along one of her bare shoulders.

Rooster could feel her chuckle vibrate through him.

"For you? A drink."

A/N: Thank you for reading! XD

[subbymothpimp]

My entry into @aromansoul’s Boxer!Silco AU

TW: Blood, Injury, Graphic description of violence, angst, whump My entry, or an attempt on thereof, is set about a week or two after Arcane episode 3, so it features Act 1 Silco, Powder, and Sevika, as well as mentions of Vander and vague hints on Vanco.

I also focused on bare knuckle fighting instead of straight up boxing.

PART1 | PART2

This is part 3/5

Today without an illustration. I'm a bit too busy. I might make one later.

‘Til I’m laughing alone - ROUND 2

A tap of fists.

The first round was Kassal’s. Silco barely laid a punch. He knows he either raises the bar or goes down. 

And he won’t go down, ohh no. Not voluntarily anyway. He always fought till the end and this won’t be any different.

Jaw clenched, fists high and square in a closed stance, eyes wide and focused, he takes a deep breathe and-

Bell

-springs out of place before the bell is done ringing. A different technique, one more suitable to his lithe form.

A long step forwards, no dancing. Tendons tighten, right and left jab to Kassal’s chest. The third jabs at his throat. The younger man gurgles.

A potentially illegal move, too fast for the referee to register. Kassal falters after an upward haymaker to his lowered chin. 

Silco follows his backward stagger with a swift switch of his feet. Left front, right locks and turns as Silco forces the energy to spring up from the ball of his foot through the full left part of his body, higher, up, like a jolt up his arm, his fist shoots in a wide circle. A brutal hook onto Kassal’s right cheek sends the opponent tumbling to the side.

The two or three drunken steps Kassal performs feel more mechanical than conscious before he crushes to the floor.

Silco heaves, rolls his shoulder, turns to calm his heartbeat as the referee starts the first countdown of the match.

Silco’s left fist opens and closes, the knuckles are aching, his whole arm still vibrates with that vicious hit. The technique he chose is exhausting, always has been. Silco is not a tank type fighter, his strength lies in agility and stamina, but the fight is not well matched and he can’t risk getting hit more than absolutely necessary. He needs to bring his opponent down to his level. It’s worth it, not to mention this switch in approach finally got his blood flowing fast and proper; he can feel the adrenaline speeding his heart rate, pulsating in his throat and temples.

He’s feeling good. Excellent in fact.

The countdown only reaches five before Kassal climbs back to his feet. Their eyes meet, Silco’s are feverish with excitement, his opponent’s dark with fury.

The boy is mad because of that little dirty trick Silco pulled.

Good. Anger makes people do stupid things. Silco feels his busted lips twitching into a smirk.

A quick tap of the fists again, two steps away as both are now alert. Kassal is still dazed, his jab feels more like a testing move and Silco evades it by leaning back, retaliating with a straight of his own.

Kassal steps forward, fakes a jab, followed by a right hook into the ribs. Silco takes it, counter attacks with a right cross that separates them.

Now he has Kassal exactly where he wants him, until-

“Yeaah!! Give it to him, Silco!”

The high-pitched child’s voice somewhere close in the crowd breaks Silco’s focus.

Jinx? 

Stupidly, he glances in her direction.

The next thing he sees is a fist, just for a second before it blacks out his vision. Pain explodes in his right eye.

He grunts, stumbling backwards and lifting his arms into guard.

Not good enough.

A sharp hit into the stomach sends him another two steps back and that damned cage rattles behind his back. The black fog is still not lifting, white speckles dance before his eyes as he hears a heavy voice somewhere close to his ear.

“I can fight dirty too, old man…”

His vision comes back blurred and spinning just in time to register Kassal’s teeth-baring grin. His opponent stomps the heel of his boot down on Silco’s left foot, pinning it underneath while his knee prevents the smaller man from freeing himself.

Silco grits his teeth and desperately raises his guard again. Not that it matters. The swarm of hits that follow are indiscriminate, swatting his arms away from the sides.

Ribs and sides, left and right in quick session, left cheek, right jaw, left temple, right cheek.

Silco groans as something snaps in the right cheekbone. His defense falters in a wave of nausea, hands lower.

A straight hit square in the center of his face, strong enough that the back of his head crashes into the bars with a loud, dull thump that resonates in the arena. 

His eyes roll back and his vision is gone once again. Silco falls solid on his side with a weak gasp precisely as the bell rings.

*

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, wake up!” 

The voice means nothing in the numb fog, however the smelling salts beneath his nose are a whole different story.

Silco’s head snaps up, eyes frantic and wide as he draws a sharp breath.

“Are you with me?” Sevika slaps his cheek slightly to get his attention.

“Where?”

“Good enough. Close your eye, hold this.” Ever-practical, Sevika wastes no time, pressing ice wrapped in a wet towel to his right eye. Silco flinches, hissing between his bloodied teeth. His whole body clenches at the sensation. Pain radiates from every inch of his face and torso.

He grits his teeth and takes over the compress.

Sevika kneels and swiftly cleans the blood off of Silco’s mouth and chin, lifts his busted lip to see if his teeth are loose, then touches the sides of his nose, a bit more carefully, Silco winces away.

“Yeah, broken, huh?” Sevika utters with a hint of sarcasm, and leans closer, “Silco, pull out of the match. You’re a fucking mess and-”

“I’m so sorry, that’s my fault…” here’s that small voice again, riddled with tears and trembling. Silco takes off the ice to actually look at Jinx in surprise. 

The little blue-haired girl stands off to the side, chin shaking and eyes filling with tears of either anxiety or fear. Her hands, pressed into small fists, are pressing to the sides of her head. She whimpers and one of those small fists pathetically hits her own temple.

“I jinxed it! I jinx everything!”

Before she hits herself again, Silco catches her wrists, letting go off the ice pack completely.

“Stop it, listen!” He draws her closer, “You didn’t jinx anything, that was my mistake.”

“But I called you and you turned and he hit you and-”

“Because I wasn’t paying attention.” Silco stops her firmly. Jinx’s eyes dart over his face, her chin still trembling, threatening with tears. Silco smiles.

“Jinx…You were the only one to cheer for me. Thank you. Will you do it again?” “Do you… want me to? I won’t distract you?”

“No. If I win, it will be because you’re here.”

She smiles and Silco feels something break inside him. Sevika cuts their moment, drawing him back into the chair and forcing the ice pack into his hand again.

“Alright, very sweet, but we have only about a minute left. You keep icing. Hey, kid, I need two hands, you know how to align a broken nose?”

She grabs Jinx by the shoulder and drags her in front of Silco while she stammers.

“Sevika, no.” Silco protests, but she only draws her one arm around his head and pins it to her side. She ignores him, looking at the child.

“I’ll guide you. Both hands on either side of his nose, high up on the bridge, do it.”

“But…” Jinx’s hands hover. Silco tries to pull back.

“Sevika, seriously, no.”

“Look, if you don’t get it reset now, the doc is gonna have to rebreak it. You want that? Jinx, do it, fingers on both-."

Jinx grimaces with determination, presses both hands on either side of Silco’s heavily unaligned nose, and before either of them says anything, she snaps it left and down with a sickening crunch. Silco lets out a sharp, short gasp, trapped blood pours down his mouth. 

Jinx steps back to free the space for Sevika, who gives her a surprised glance.

“Nice. Good job, kiddo,” She wipes off the fresh blood and tilts Silco’s face up, taking off the ice pack and inspecting his eye.

“Listen, you have two rounds left. You got him pretty good the last time. Don’t let him corner you again. Keep your guard up, move, clinch him if you can. How are the ribs?”

“Still good.”

“Don’t let him hit you in that eye again. Offer him your torso if you have to.”

“Excellent advice, Sevika.” Silco scoffs quietly, he feels drained. Sevika waves her hand in front of his face.

“You’re laughing but one more shot on the right and you’re fighting blind, boss.”

The announcer calls for the next round. Silco frowns, thinking. The vision in his right eye is getting very bad, his sight is dominated by the left one now - everything is turning red and blurred as his bad eye supplements the ‘good’ one.

“Sevika, give me that smelling salt.”

“ You really shouldn’t have two-”

“No matter, give it to me, before the damn referee looks this way.”

Sevika glances at the arena, fishes out one of the capsules, and hands it to Silco. He crushes it between his fingers right below his nose. The strong scent makes his head snap back, eyes widen.

He discards the shattered glass into the crowd, feeling his heart rate spike with adrenaline again.

“Good luck!” He hears Jinx peep behind him as Sevika drags her out of the arena again.

[bonkie-barnes]

Spoons

natasha romanoff x gn!reader

word count: 2.1k

warnings: chronic illness, mention of medicine, self deprecating thoughts

A/N: this is me 1000% projecting about my guilt that comes with my chronic illnesses. they're kicking my ass rn. this is a vent fic, but if you resonate with this at all, i hope you enjoy :)

- - -

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The alarm clock on Natasha’s bedside table has been going off for a full minute already. You merely roll over and cover your head with Natasha’s pillow. It smells like her.

You have absolutely no energy to get up, let alone reach across the bed to turn the alarm off. Your head feels heavy and your body aches something terrible.

The list of chores you have to do around the house today sits uncomfortably in the back of your mind. The list of friends who have texted you about making plans to hang out sits there too. The idea of staying in bed all day sounds more and more appealing by the second. You know this because the alarm is still blaring into the otherwise peaceful morning air.

Just as you’re gathering the strength to sit up and turn the alarm off, Natasha walks in. She looks at her watch and her brow furrows in confusion.

“What are you doing, sleepyhead?” she asks you with a little smirk. There is concern in her eyes, though she masks it well.

You’re both fully aware the alarm has been going off for seven minutes straight now.

“Just tired, love. You know how much work it takes to reach over,” you say in a joking manner, hopeful that you can get past this without worrying her too much.

Natasha eyes you suspiciously for a second before giving in.

“How was your workout?” you ask her sincerely.

As she starts rambling about her morning activities, you feel a sense of shame. You’ve barely managed to wake up in the time it’s taken her to complete a full workout routine. Hell, you couldn’t even find it in you to turn the alarm off.

You finally focus on her rant as it comes to an end. Natasha is looking at you expectantly. Shit. She’s asked you a question.

“Huh?” you grunt.

She chuckles before answering, “I asked if you were ever going to get up and get in the shower, stinky.”

You put on a fake smile but fail to meet her eyes, the shame eating you up. It has been a few days since your last shower, but it’s just so hard to find the strength and energy to get up and stand in one place for more than a minute or two.

If Natasha notices the far away look in your eyes and the grimace on your mouth, she doesn’t say anything.

After one of the quickest and most unproductive showers you’ve ever taken, you find Natasha waiting for you in the kitchen. She’s taken it upon herself to make breakfast for you both.

You kiss her cheek and thank her as you sit down at the table. The warm cup of coffee she sets down in front of you is a godsend. The warmth emitting from the cup helps to diminish the pain in your knuckles, if only slightly. You send up a silent prayer to whomever might be listening that the caffeine will help with the fatigue today instead of making you sick.

Natasha sits down in the chair next to you with her own plate. She runs her eyes over you in a scrutinizing manner. She wants to think you don’t notice, but you do.

Clearing your throat in hopes to take her focus off you, you ask about her plans for the day.

“Oh, you know, mostly just busy work. I have a ton of paperwork to get through,” she tells you through an exaggerated sigh. “What about you?”

The list of chores screams at you again. “Mostly just some things around the house. Grocery shopping, laundry, boring shit like that.”

Natasha hums around a sip of her coffee. It surprised you just how much cream and sugar she takes in hers. It’s just one of the many unpredictable things about her that made you fall in love.

“Super exciting. I hate to miss out,” she teases you.

You crack a smile to appease her. Inside, though, you realize just how little she understands. These errands seem so simple to her, when to you, they are the most daunting of tasks.

You’re brought out of your thoughts by Natasha standing up to take her plate to the sink. She comes back to kiss your cheek and let you know she’s going to go get ready, before walking out of the room.

You suspect the amount of housework you’ll get done today will be minimal, so you decide to at least make Natasha some lunch. Maybe it will lessen the disappointment she feels when she comes home to see everything exactly as it was when she left, you think.

Your plan is halted as you’re making her sandwich. The stupid cover on the peanut butter jar is stuck. You can’t open it for the life of you. The guilt comes in like a tidal wave. You can’t even do something as simple as make lunch for her, your brain supplies for you.

Natasha returns from getting ready to see you standing in the kitchen with a glare on your tired face.

“What’d the peanut butter do to you this time,” she jokes.

“I can’t.” Tears well up in your eyes.

She comes up to wrap you in a hug from behind. She softly asks, “What can’t you do?”

“I can’t open the jar,” you mutter softly, feeling overwhelmingly embarrassed.

“It’s okay, love. Let me help,” she tells you delicately before kissing the spot under your ear. She can tell this is affecting you more than usual and wishes for nothing more than to be able to take away your distress.

You mutter a thank you before continuing to make her sandwich. You pack everything into a bag and write a small note to finish it off. You know Natasha loves the little messages you leave her periodically, and nothing will stop you from trying to make her as happy as you can.

Goodbyes are said as you both wander closer to the door. Natasha makes sure to hold you longer and tighter than usual. You don’t comment on that.

The silence that encompasses the room as soon as the love of your life leaves is suffocating. You can feel the exhaustion from purely getting up and getting ready creeping up on you. Logically, you know that you shouldn’t overexert yourself, but the shame is eating you up. Already on a roll, might as well keep on going, you think to yourself.

You go back to your mental to-do list and debate what to start with. The grocery store doesn’t sound terrible. Some sun would do you some good. It’s been a few days since you’ve seen the world that exists outside of your house.

Wandering back to the bedroom to get your phone and shoes, you try to push the fatigue from your mind. In your attempt to block out the tiredness, you fail to recognize the ever-present pain in your joints increasing. It’s only when you sit down and bend over to put your shoes on that you register the feeling. Your hips ache severely; so much so, that you can’t hold your position long enough to get your shoe on your foot.

This seems to be the straw that breaks the camel’s back, seeing as you immediately burst into tears. The pain mixed with your inability to do basic, everyday activities completely overwhelms you as you break down.

There’s absolutely no chance that you’re going to complete this task, let alone all the other ones on your list. You let out a sigh as you stand up and shuffle to your room, phone and shoes forgotten in the living room.

You let the weight of your emotions crush you as you climb into bed and under the covers, your wife’s pillow clutched closely to your chest.

Your tears cease to stop, even as you succumb to the sleep you so desperately wished to hold onto this morning.

- - -

Natasha comes home to an eerily silent house. On any typical day, she would come home to the noise of your favorite show or music softly playing, whether it be from a speaker or from your guitar. Your shared house consistently was filled with life and sound. It was one of her favorite parts of her day; coming home to you in your own element, laughing or singing. You are her home.

This newfound silence has her exceptionally worried. Even on your bad days, there was at least a laugh track coming from the TV or the smell of hot chocolate coming from the kitchen. Now, there’s absolutely nothing. For a split second, Natasha thinks that you may never have come back from the grocery. Her heart rate spikes. The sight of your phone on the coffee table and your shoes strewn haphazardly on the floor puts those worries to rest.

“Darling?” she calls from the entryway. There is no response. She carefully removes her boots and coat before moving through every room in the house, calling out for you softly in each.

She makes her way to the bedroom, lightly knocking on the door as she lets herself in. She sees the rise and fall of your chest and is filled with a sense of relief she didn't know she needed.

"Love? Are you awake?"

You grumble out an answer that could be understood as a 'yes'.

Natasha carefully sits down on the side of the bed that you are facing.

"Can you tell me what's going on?" she requests softly, in fear of upsetting the quiet environment of the bedroom and making things worse.

The tears that started up again when you wife called out the first time get even heavier somehow.

"Oh love, come here."

She carefully gathers you in her arms and rests your head on her chest.

"Does this have anything to do with the peanut butter jar this morning?"

You nod. One of your favorite things about your wife is her ability to observe and understand what you're going through.

"I just can't do anything today. Everything hurts and I'm so, so tired," you whisper, followed by a heartbreaking sob.

"It's okay love. Please don't cry," Natasha whispers back.

"But it's not! It's not okay!" You sit up from her chest to let out your rant. "You've done so much today and I could barely wake up. You work so hard and I should be able to do stuff around the house so you can come home and not have to worry about anything," you finish with a sigh.

Your wife puts her hand under your chin, forcing you to look in her direction. "Love, look at me. Believe me when I say that I don't care about the state of the laundry or if the pantry has been stocked. All I care about is you. All I want is for you to be okay. It's killing me that you feel like this and I can't do anything to take it away from you. What I can do, though, is tell you just how proud I am of you. You are the strongest person I know, and I work with the Avengers."

You giggled at that. Natasha smiles at your small second of happiness.

"Are you sure? Because I was going to get so much done today and I was trying to-"

Natasha cuts you off with a soft kiss.

"My love. Listen to me. All I care about is your health and happiness. If staying in bed and catching up on sleep is what you needed today, then that's all I expect from you. I never want you to hurt yourself trying to do more than you can. We all have limits. It’s okay to need a break some days. I love you and I am so very, very proud of you."

With a long look into her eyes, all you find is love and adoration directed towards you. There's no disgust or disappointment as you had anticipated.

"I love you too," you utter quietly.

Natasha smiles and leaves a long kiss on your forehead. "What if we got some pain killers and some food in you? We can even put on your favorite movie. Does that sound good?"

You nod. Natasha gets up to get you some medicine and to order some food, while you get your favorite movie loaded on the TV.

Later that night, when both your stomachs are full and your wife is obnoxiously singing along to the songs in the movie just to make you laugh, you realize just how loved you are.

You don't know how tomorrow will treat you, or the day after that. What you do know, however, is that Natasha will always be there to support and love you. Your pain level and ability to function is always an uncertainty, but your wife's love will never be.

- - -

A/N: as always, i try to keep it gender neutral. if you find a mistake, please let me know! feedback is appreciated! to all my chronic illness buddies out there: i love you, you've got this :)

taglist: @007giu

[junisfics]

teacher's pet* — eren jaeger

eren jaeger x puppy! reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings: smut / nsfw 18 + (mirrors, slight pet play, corruption kink, humiliation, mentions of f! masturbation)

notes: i was going to write a full length hard core pet play fic but i ended up running out of time so here's a little blurb :)

eren had your back to his chest as you both sat on the floor. your legs were spread out and up and over his thighs so you couldn't even close them if you tried.

you were squirming against his chest and the hard on pressing into your back, eyes squeezing shut because in front of you was a giant, full body mirror.

with only a skimpy tank top on, eren had you blushing and writhing in front of this mirror without even laying a finger on you. you felt so exposed, so vunerable.

you had walked to his dorm, just down the hall from yours, pushed open his door real quietly and tip toed into his room all sheepishly.

"eren," you had said, with your voice all tiny and submissive, "can you help me?"

and without even asking you what you needed help with, eren had said yes. you're his sweet little girlfriend; so dependent on him, so needy for him... of course he'd help you.

but he wasn't expecting you to tell him, with your eyes to the floor and fiddling with your fingers, "can't get off"

now, eren knew you were a virgin... you told him. and it was quite obvious. the way you trembled and moaned at the gentlest brushes of his fingers or lips, the way your hips stuttered when you got a good feel of his hard on. he thought it was the cutest thing.

but what he didn't know, is that you've never gotten yourself off before.

you've played with yourself, teased yourself, stuffed your little fingers inside your cunt until you were a shaky mess. but you could never bring yourself to an orgasm.

and tonight was all the same.

you were in your dorm, your own one at that, laid out onto your bed with your little hand shoved down your panties, two fingers curling inside you while you bit down on your other hand to muffle your moans.

and you were sure you were gonna do it this time, you were so sure of it!

but as quickly as your high climbed, your poor hand got tired just as fast. and you were a hot and bothered, frustrated mess when you explained to him what happened.

you told him that you've never came before, that you've never gotten to the best part.

and it made erens cock throb in his pants.

so, when he grabbed ahold of your hips and sat you down in front of the mirror, peeling your panties down your legs, he was determined to make you cum. he needed to feel you cream around his fingers for your very first time.

"look at you. so pretty for me, hm?" he mumbles, head tilted down so he can speak against your ear.

you had turned your head away from the reflective glass, vision narrowed as you buried the side of your head into his chest. every so often your eyes flit to the side to catch a glance of you all spread out for him, but they returned just as fast.

"c'mon, be a good girl 'n look for me." one of the hands around your waist slid up your chest to grab ahold of your chin, turning it gently to bring your eyes to the mirror.

his other hand tickles at the skin below your navel, sending waves of goosebumps over your exposed flesh.

"'s embarassing." you whine, eyes darting to the plush grey carpet on the floor beside you.

eren presses a gentle kiss to your hair, "no it's not, puppy. it's to help teach you."

"you gonna be a good girl 'n watch for me? watch me finger your cunt nice and good so you can learn how to do it yourself?" the hand against your stomach slides a little lower, teasing just above your clit, "'m not always gonna be here to do it for you."

you know that. you know that, physically, eren won't always be around to take care of you the way you really need it. so, you let your eyes skim over the carpet and inch up the glass of the mirror

"that's my girl," he says, voice low and velvety and dripping with sensuality, "if you take your eyes off yourself... i'll stop."

both of you were aching with anticipation. you just wanted him to treat you, finger you how you need it until you're cumming around his digits. you need that release, you need it from him.

and eren was desperate to have you writhing in his grasp, choking out moans for him as you gush for the very first time, and all over his fingers.

his fingers brush over your clit real soft, circling it slowly. he can hear your breath hitch, your little hands coming to the forearm that still has a hold on your chin. you were so sensitive, all fidgety in front of him and your body growing even hotter at his touch.

“eren —“ you speak no louder than a whisper, just enough for him to hear you.

he lets his hand fall from your chin to the bottom hem of your shirt, dipping up and under it and teasing the soft skin under your right breast. you jerked a little at the sensation.

“this alright?” he mumbles. you can feel his lips turn into a smirk against your ear.

you nod, quickly and desperately, taking your bottom lip between your teeth to stifle another whine. you realize then, that your gaze has shifted away from the  mirror. your head had fallen forward once he released your head and you were watching his fingers tease at you.

“head up,” he says, like he could read your thoughts. 

you bring your head up, your cheek brushing against his jaw as you rest back onto his shoulder. in the mirror, you see his fingers begin to slide lower, sliding through the slick arousal that’s gathered against your hot skin.

“you this wet for me?” he chuckles, sliding the tips of his fingers through your heat.

his comment makes your face and neck grow warm, crinkling your nose, legs attempting to close. but his own are in the way and preventing you from doing so.

“eren, this is humiliating,” you mutter, backing farther up into his chest like you were trying to escape. but you knew you weren’t. you were too riled up, to desperate for him to fill you.

“take a lick, puppy.” he teases, bringing his hand away from your cunt and up to your face.

you turn your head into his neck, eyes only flitting to his fingers for brief seconds to look at the creamy slick that’s gathered on his fingertips. you look up to him, eyes wide.

“be a good girl ‘n get my fingers nice and wet for you.” he smiles, looking down at you.

hesitantly, and eager to please, you turn back to his hand. you take his wrist in both of your much smaller hands and bring his hand forth towards your mouth. sticking your tongue out, you slide two of his glistening fingers inside your mouth.

you taste yourself on his skin, slightly bitter and tarte, and let his fingers press against the soft of your tongue to coat them in your saliva. he tells you to open your mouth as he pulls them out, to avoid your lips, and they leave your tongue with a slimey string of saliva in their wake.

the spit drips off his fingers and down your stomach before his hand reaches your center again. they’re warm, and wet from your tongue when they tease your entrance. eren can feel your cunt flutter against his fingertips.

“fuck baby —” he mutters, beginning to tease his middle finger inside, “oh god.”

your hands return to his forearm, the one that has a hand now palming at your breast, and etch your blunt nails into the sinew there.

“please, please,” your breath catches in your throat again, voice getting all shaky as he slides in just a little more and a little more until he’s two knuckles deep.

you’re so tight around him, squeezing his single digit so well. every shift of his hand has your cunt pulsing around his knuckles. 

“jesus fuck, ‘can feel you.” 

when his finger is to it’s hilt, he has it stay there for a little. he only moves it to curl it against your gummy walls and press against your sweet spot real gently. it has you keening.

“eren,” you whimper, your legs beginning to tremble over his own.

it was pathetic. he was only a finger deep inside you and you were falling apart, crumbling into a stupid mess before him.

his hand on your breast shifts upwards, his fingers grazing over your raised nipple and sending your head falling back against his collarbone. your back was arching into his dualty touches, your ass grinding against his hard cock.

“need more, please.” you beg with a breathy moan

you’ve lost all care towards memorizing his actions for later. because never, never ever, would you be able to possibly come close to replicating the pleasure he’s making you feel right now.

he slides his finger out of you, relishing the cries that leave your lips as he does so. then, he slips it back in real easily. you’re sucking him back in, clenching around him and begging for more.

he starts with languid pumps of that one finger, pairing it with dirty praises against your ear as you tremble and shake in his arms. your stomach was twisting so deliciously in pleasure; at an intensity you’ve never felt before.

he was skilled with his actions, you don’t even care if he’s done them a million times before, because the way his was making you feel right now had you so on edge. you thought you’d explode.

and then, as he pulls back out once more, he returns with another finger.

“oh my god.” your legs clamp around his own.

eren can feel your stomach tense up as he fills you even more. he can feel your breathing grow ragged and the volume of your cries become careless.

“fuck, you’re close aren’t you, puppy?” he asks. his tongue slips past his lips to lick at the skin of your neck, covered in a sheen of sweat.

“eren! i — i’m —“ your mouth falls open, legs thrashing around.

“fuck yeah, cum for me.” he mumbles, hand on your breast sliding farther up your shirt to grab your chin again, turning your head to him and taking your lips in his with a sloppy kiss.

it was messy, you gushed all over his fingers and hand and fuzzy carpet. you moaned into his mouth, his hot tongue licking against your own and the roof of you mouth. your body was spasming in his arms, ass grinding up against him as he rode through his own orgasm.

just from watching you, from watching your pretty little cunt squeeze his fingers and leak all over him, he came in thick hot spurts and all in his pants.

JUNISFICS © 2021

[seijorhi]

Rabid.

The brainrot was real, guys. Hope you like it :))

Kyoutani Kentarou x female reader

tw blood, violence, implied minor character death, non-con, smut, nsfw

There’s blood splattered across the back of his hands the first time you make the unwitting mistake of catching Kyoutani’s attention. He usually can’t be fucked wasting time wrapping his fists; the skin across one of his knuckles is split and raw from his last job, but most of the blood isn’t his.

And the other guy got off far, far worse.

But he wouldn’t have noticed – it comes with the territory and he’s never really given a fuck whether there’s blood on his clothes or not – if it hadn’t been for that tiny gasp.

That soft, sharp little intake of breath, and like the rabid dog they claim he is, he snaps to the threat.

Nobody else at the table notices, and you seem to realise your mistake, freezing up the moment those honey brown eyes flash and zero in on you. Your throat bobs unsteadily – you look like a deer caught in headlights. Startled. Terrified. 

Kinda fuckin’ adorable, if he’s being honest.

“I– I’m sorry, sir,” you mutter, ducking your head as you set down his drink with a tremor in your hand.

Vaguely, he registers Makki’s choked snort at the honorific – nobody’s ever called him sir before – but he can’t really find it in himself to give a fuck that the two of you have drawn an audience.

Not when you’re still frozen, hardly daring to draw breath at his side. 

You’re new, that much is painfully obvious, but not stupid. You know who he is – who they are, and despite his reputation, he’s never been one to get off on fear or some fucked up version of a power trip; Kyoutani simply likes the feeling of lashing out, beating the absolute shit out of some asshole just because he can.

Because it feels good, gets his blood pumping.

Nobody would lift a finger to help you if he decided to take offence to your little slip up. And truthfully, he couldn’t give a shit – he’s used to people being on edge around him and it’s not like you’ve reacted any other way than how you’re supposed to. 

It’s natural for you to be startled, scared even. But not here, not with them. Here you should know better, because here is filled to the fucking brim with men like Kyoutani. Oh sure, they might be prettier, polished and charming like Oikawa, but you’d have to be a goddamn idiot to think the man hasn’t stepped over bodies he’s put in the ground to get where he is. 

At least Kyoutani never has to pretend to be anything other than what he is.

But a little blood in a place like this shouldn’t raise an eyebrow, and the way you’re staring at the table, eyes cast down and wide; Kyoutani can almost hear you cursing yourself out for your own stupidity. And it strikes him as he stares at you, drinking in every subtle shift in your body language, wondering why you don’t just tuck tail and run off like you so clearly want to, that you really don't belong in a place like this.

“Something the matter, Mad Dog?” a silken voice purrs, and he tears his eyes away from your trembling form to glance back at his boss, sitting at the head of the table. The brunette’s smiling idly, appraising the two of you and Kyoutani feels you stiffen beside him. 

You don’t dare open your mouth, don’t so much as twitch, not even as Kyoutani returns his attention back to you. By now the entire table has quietened down, most if not all of the gathered men staring at you and you – pretty eyes filling with tears, hands clasped together and trembling in front of your dress – look like you just want the floor to open up and swallow you whole. And somewhat selfishly, there’s a part of Kyoutani that wants to keep you there like that.

Not afraid, exactly. Just… there. 

He can’t explain it, doesn’t know why he hasn’t just told you to fuck off back to the kitchen, dismissed you with a grunt like he would have if any of the other servers had made the same mistake. He has bigger shit to worry about than some perceived fucking offence, but he finds himself pausing, drawing this little moment out for a lifetime before finally putting an end to it, “No.”

He jerks his chin, breaking the moment between the two of you to reach for the drink you’d set down before him, but still you don’t move, glancing between him and Oikawa like you’re afraid to move – as if you’re terrified that you’ve read this situation wrong and one wrong step and you’ll just make things worse. It’s so fucking endearing that he almost snorts, but it takes Oikawa’s voice, calm and level and almost kind to shake you out of your frozen state, “Run along now, cutie.”

You scamper off without a backwards glance, and if anybody notices Kyoutani watching you out of the corner of his eye while he nurses his drink, they have the better sense to keep their mouths shut about it.

And honest to god, it’s the last he expects to see of you. He’s not so stupid as to think you landed the job because you genuinely wanted it; people don’t end up in places like this because they have choices, they end up here because somebody somewhere along the line fucked up. 

This city’s filthy, full of irredeemable pieces of shit like him and it takes innocence like yours, chews it up and spits it out. If you were smart, you would have left after your little run-in with him, so why the fuck are you right back in their private room less than a week later, nails biting into your palm and resolutely refusing to meet his eye?

Oikawa’s busy rattling off a list of drinks he wants, but this time it’s Kyoutani who’s frozen in place, staring at you with a scowl that has you shivering even as you nod at the Oyabun. He knows Iwaizumi at least is watching him with some kind of morbid combination of curiosity and concern, can’t find it within him to care as you try and slip from the room, giving him as wide a berth as you can without it seeming rude–

Not wide enough. Before he even registers that he’s moved Kyoutani’s reaching out to grab your forearm – his grip not tight enough to hurt, just to stop you from running off on him again. And the little squeak that leaves your soft looking lips sends a ripple of something electric jolting down his spine, but you know better than to try and pull away.

God, he can feel your pulse racing beneath your skin, every terrified thump of your heart. It’s addictive, he thinks, the feeling he gets just from touching you. 

“Gimme a beer,” he grunts, waiting until you finally meet his eye.

The nervous little nod you give strokes some part of him he hadn’t realised existed. Kyoutani likes you like this; all timid and obedient. A little too much, maybe. 

There’s a sharp elbow in his side courtesy of Yahaba, and he reluctantly releases his grip on you, leaving you to scamper away once more. Cute.

Yahaba makes some snarky comment under his breath and he barely fucking registers it, fixated instead on the skin of his palm; still warm and tingling from your touch. His hands are rough, scarred and calloused, the skin over his knuckles split from another job last night, a little red and bruised – even as he tightens his fingers into a fist they sting just a little.

Guns have their purpose, he’s not against a knife if he’s feeling particularly fucking vindictive, but Kyoutani’s favourite has always been his fists. There’s something about the feeling of skin and muscle giving way beneath his blows, taking all that pent up rage and aggression and letting loose with his fists. It’s a kind of euphoria he’s never found anywhere else; not in women or men or drugs or alcohol. Nothing comes close to the feeling he gets straddling some pathetic piece of shit and beating the absolute fucking crap out of him.

Sometimes if he goes a few days without a fight, he gets a little jittery. Not like the tweakers do, it’s not withdrawal so much as… a building up of restless, rabid energy. He gets on edge, snaps more, lashing out over petty shit until some poor asshole makes the mistake of looking at him the wrong way and Kyoutani just fucking looses it.

He feels it now, that same burning itch under his skin. He’s never thought of his hands as anything more weapons, but touching you, the warmth of your skin, how smooth and soft it was–

Kyoutani wants to do it again. Wants to touch more of you. And he’s not so fucked up yet that he doesn’t realise how twisted this all is, how a guy like him doesn’t belong within a thousand miles of some sweet, cute innocent thing like you. But the world ain’t fucking fair; you’re here and for whatever reason Oikawa’s taken a liking to you and so whenever they’re at the club, you’re the one management send to make sure they’re happy.

And Kyoutani wonders, golden eyes burning a hole into your back as you hastily clear away their empty glasses, whether you realise that if any one of them asked for a dance or for you to get on your knees and blow them, you’d be expected to do that, too.

You might as well be on Seijoh’s payroll now, just be thankful that as far as that side of things go, they’re not the monsters that the rumours make them out to be.

Not that he hasn’t noticed Mattsun’s gaze drifting to your ass when you lean over the table to grab something, the older man shooting him a salacious wink when he notices he’s glaring.

Not that he hasn’t let his own imagination take hold, leaning up against the glass wall of his shower first thing in the morning. His fist pumping along his throbbing cock, wondering what it’d be like to see you on your knees, those pretty eyes full of tears, staring up at him as you swallow him down like the good girl he knows you are.

The thing is, he’s never made all that much of an effort to hide his feelings from the others. He doesn’t give a shit if it makes him the butt of their jokes, doesn’t care what they think about the way he watches you – his attention snapping towards you the moment you slip past the door, purposefully trying to avoid his gaze. Not that it ever does you much good. 

Oikawa hasn’t said shit, and that’s enough of a go-ahead as Kyoutani needs. It’s none of their fucking business anyway. 

You’ve managed to get under his skin, push him to the fucking brink when he goes more than a few days without seeing you. He knows you don’t want any part of this; that you’re still fucking terrified of him. Kyoutani’s never been one to chase after somebody who wants nothing to do with him – there are plenty of women more than willing to spread their legs for Seijoh’s big bad Mad Dog if he wants an itch scratched. There’s no good reason why he can’t get you out of his head, why you’ve sunk your teeth into him and refuse to let go – even when it’s clear that that’s so fucking far from what you intended with the blonde.

It doesn’t matter. At the end of the day, it doesn’t change shit; you’re his, whether you’re willing to acknowledge that or not.

And maybe he’s just living with his head up his ass, but he doesn’t quite realise how fucking inadequate this whole arrangement is until he needs a piss one night and ventures out into the club only to see some asshole trying to cop a feel and tug you down to his lap, his friends drunk and howling with laughter as you try to politely escape them. 

Distantly he registers that he recognises the piece of shit as some low level fucking drug lord who’s been all but sucking Oikawa’s dick trying to get a bigger piece of the pie, but in that moment, he honestly doesn’t give a fuck who he is.

Kyoutani just sees red. 

Nostrils flaring, steam practically pouring from his ears, he storms over. And adrenaline’s surging through him with every pounding beat of his heart, every synapse in his body’s electrified, ready to lay into this piece of shit for daring to lay a finger on what’s his.

He wants to beat him bloody, wants to fuck up his face – to whale on him until muscle and bone give way and there’s nothing left but bloody pulp where his head used to be. Him and his fucking friends.

But Kyoutani has his priorities, and he reaches you first, grabbing you by your elbow and ripping you away from them, a muscled arm curling protectively around your waist. And he’s deaf to whatever protests you have, to the excuses the pieces of crap in front of him offer up, can’t hear a goddamn thing over the pounding in his head as he fixes them with a snarl and all but drags you back to their room, shoving you less than gently in through the door.

“Stay here, don’t move until I get back,” he orders, and he loves you, he does, but when you open your mouth to argue, something inside of him tightens and snaps. He grabs you by the jaw, jerking your face up as he crowds in over you, golden eyes ablaze, “Not a fucking muscle, understand?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, crashing his lips down on yours to steal the kiss he’s been waiting fucking weeks for before stalking back out. 

Kyoutani is beyond caring about ramifications, Oikawa’s always given him a fairly loose leash to do as he pleases and if this is what puts an end to that so fucking be it; he’ll take you and go. But he hears Iwa and Mattsun on his heels and neither one of them are trying to stop him as he storms back towards the drug lord and his little cronies, so he figures the boss ain’t too fucking bothered with what he’s about to do.

And maybe if he’d had a clearer head, he might’ve found it funny how quickly the floor clears when he vaults the couch, grabs the asshole by the front of his silk shirt and heaves him forward, sending him careening face first into a table full of drinks. 

With the taste of you on his lips, the memory of this piece of shit’s hands all over you, Kyoutani doesn’t hold back. 

The others are gone by the time he, Iwa and Mattsun return, it’s just Oikawa casually leaning back in his seat, you sitting rigidly in the one beside him, his arm casually draped over the back of your chair. 

Kyoutani’s eyes flicker tensely between the two of you – he’s still on edge, still not right. He needs something more to feed that rabid fucking monster lurking beneath his skin, and his Oyabun knows it. 

Oikawa smiles genially, patting your knee for just a moment (and oh, how Kyoutani hates the flash of jealous rage that rears its ugly head when he leans over and whispers something in your ear) before standing up.

“Mad Dog,” he says, eyeing him with a shrewd look he recognises all too well. “We’ll talk tomorrow.” He nods at the two behind him and without another word the three of them exit, no doubt to try and smooth over the mess he’d just made.

Leaving Kyoutani alone with you.

And there’s a part of him that’s pissed off, because this was always gonna happen, but fuck, he was gonna make an effort. He’d wanted it to be nice for you… romantic, or at least as romantic as somebody like him was capable of.

You deserve that much.

His blood’s still thrumming, remnants of blind fury and jealousy and possessive need still burning through his veins. The fight wasn’t enough to sate him; it should’ve been – he’d left them in fucking pieces – but then again you’ve been toeing this line for a long, long time, and Kyoutani’s patience only goes so far.

He should at least take you back to his apartment, try and salvage this disaster of a night, but he knows deep down he can’t make himself walk out of here with you without taking what he needs.

He’s still not entirely in control, breathing hard as he stares at you, watches you fiddle with your hands in your lap, refusing to meet his gaze. “Stand up,” he says, his voice a rough growl.

On shaking legs, you obey, eyes flickering towards the doorway behind him, and distantly he wonders what you’re thinking. You’re foolishly naive, he’ll admit that much, but he doesn’t think you’re stupid. You know where this is going, and you must know that there is nobody and nothing that’s gonna stop what’s about to happen. Not even you.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and now he’s the one to draw in an unsteady breath. “Strip.”

You blanch, eyes widening in pure panic. And there’s a part of him that feels guilty, that knows he’s scaring you right now and hates himself for it, but any chance of rationality winning out fled the moment he saw somebody else put their hands all over you.

“Strip,” he repeats when you make no move to start taking your clothes off. “Or I’ll rip that pretty fucking dress off myself.”

Kyoutani adores that little catch in your breath, the way you bite down on your bottom lip as you give in, meekly reaching for the zipper at your back.

You’re so fucking beautiful, every mouthwatering inch of you. Tentatively, you glance up at him after your dress hits the floor, as if you’re hoping that that’ll be enough, that he doesn’t want to see all of you. Any other time, and the sight of you in your matching set of lingerie might’ve been enough to calm him, but it’s not what he needs tonight. 

His scowl deepens, and you’re clever enough to read between the lines. Your bra goes first, pretty lace panties joining the small pile of clothes on the floor a moment later. 

Good girl.

His eyes darken as he stares, hungrily taking you in. Soft tits, nipples pebbling under the cool air, he’s dying to touch them, suck on them, mark them up nice and fuckin’ pretty. The gentle swell of your ass, smooth, supple thighs he can’t wait to get his hands on, and that cute little cunt of yours, all his. His to play with, his to tease, his to claim. Fuck, this is better than all the images he’s conjured up of you in the heat of the moment, stroking his cock to get off with his head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut. He wants to compliment you, tell you how perfect you are, how cute you are – trembling naked in front of him, but he’s beyond words right now, hanging onto his control by a fucking thread as his cock twitches in his pants, all that blood rushing south.

You look like you’re about to burst into tears as you swallow, taking in a quick, hitching breath. “Kyoutani,” you begin in a soft, tiny voice–

And that last little thread snaps.

He’s on you before you can stop him, spinning you around and roughly slamming your hips up against the table. There’s no time to be soft or gentle, no time to even take off his pants, he just shoves them down to his thighs and reaches for his cock.

Fuck, he’d wanted to eat you out, to stuff you full of his fingers and make you cum on them first, get you nice and stretched out, but he’s still too wound up. Kyoutani needs to be buried inside of you, needs to fuck you – he’ll make it up to you afterwards, he swears it.

He’ll treat you like a fucking princess, just be good for him now. 

And the scream that shatters that calm night air should tear at him – he doesn’t want to hurt you, not ever, it’s his job to protect you – but he can’t focus on that when your pussy’s clamping down around his fat cock, a dizzying heat enveloping him as your walls flutter and squeeze against the unwanted intrusion.

It feels like fucking heaven. Kyoutani’s hands are everywhere; your tits, your ass, squeezing reassuringly at your hip when a broken sob leaves your lips. And he’s kissing at your shoulders, nuzzling at your neck even as his teeth nip at the sensitive skin, desperate to be as close to you as he can as his hips draw back and he pounds back in, grunting like a beast in heat.

He fucks you savagely, your hips slamming against the table with every thrust – there’ll be bruises no doubt, but he’ll look after those too. He swears to fucking god, he’ll take such good care of you. You’re gonna be his girl. You are his girl.

It’s easier than it should be to drown out your agonised cries and pleas for him to slow down, to chase his own pleasure within your tight, wet heat, his cock ramming up against your cervix with every stroke. 

He loves you, loves the feeling of being inside of you – fuck, Kyoutani doesn’t think he ever wants to leave. His fingers find your clit and you cry out, a shudder wracking your body that almost has him seeing stars with the way your pussy tightens and convulses around him in response. He loses his rhythm as he nears his end, hips jackrabbiting into your poor, abused cunt as his balls tighten.

You’re slick now, cunt drooling around him as he fucks you hard and fast, lewd slaps echoing out with every brutal thrust. Kyoutani knows he’s holding you too tight, knows it’s probably hurting but he can’t fucking care when he’s so close and you feel so fucking good–

His teeth sink into your neck as that blinding pleasure takes hold; his entire body seizing up, abs tightening as his orgasm slams into him. Kyoutani cums with a hissed snarl, crushing you against him as thick, warm spurts fill your perfect little cunt right up. He fucks you through it, a slow, lazy grind of his hips against yours as he milks his orgasm for all it’s worth, pressing gentle, soothing kisses along your collarbone while you sniffle and sob pathetically.

“Love you,” he grunts quietly – truthfully – letting your exhausted body collapse back against the table. And it’s now he regrets not having taken you home to do this on an actual bed, just so he could lie you down somewhere soft afterwards and curl up beside you. 

Still, there’s not much he can do but try and comfort you as best he can, rough fingers running soothingly up and down your back as he waits for you to calm down. He pauses after a moment though, staring oddly at his hands.

There’s blood smeared across his skin, caked under his nails, splattered up his tattooed forearms. And Kyoutani can’t help the satisfied smirk that tugs at his lips as he leans over to kiss your shoulder again, his cock still stuffed inside of you. 

Most of it isn’t his.

And the other guy got off far, far worse.

[zodiakuroo]

pierced

idk what to tell you this is just 2k of pussy eating (don’t blame me blame eren brain rot)

18+, minors dni

part 2

“What did you do?!” You say, incredulously. It’s a rhetorical question, you can see exactly what he’s done. Eren stands in front of you, shamelessly, with his pants and boxers dropped to his ankles as his flaccid penis hangs between his thighs. Your attention is mainly focused on the brand new, shiny titanium barbell that goes through the head of his dick.

“Do you like it?” You can tell by his posture and the shit-eating grin on his face that he’s incredibly proud of his newest body modification.

“Why on earth would you get a piercing there?” The bulbous head is just few shades of pink darker than the rest of his pale shaft. You wince in your seat, imagining what it would feel like to stick a needle right through your most sensitive parts.

“Well, it was a dare and Jean bet that I wouldn’t so I had to.” He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, fully aware of how silly it sounds as he says it out loud.

“Of course.” You mutter. What other chain of events would lead to your boyfriend coming home with a fucking Prince Albert. “Does it hurt?” You lean in just a little closer and notice the little bit of dried blood where the jewelry pierces his flesh.

“Nah. Didn’t feel a thing.” He says with a wink and begins dressing himself again before dropping down on couch next you, throwing his arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his chest.

“You’re such an idiot.” You giggle, nuzzling your head into his neck, inhaling the heady scent you’ve come to associate with him.

“There is one thing though.” His voice is softer, lacking it’s usual self-assured tone. He can’t say that he’s happy about what he’s about to tell you. In fact, had he known about this small detail beforehand he might not have gone through with that stupid dare.

“Hmm?” You respond noncommittally, too preoccupied by your current task of leaving gentle kisses on his jaw and giving him the soft affection you know he loves but will never ask for.

“No sex for a month. Piercer’s orders.” His eyes drift down cautiously to gauge your reaction.

You stop in your tracks and frown up at him. At first you think he’s kidding but no such luck. “Oh my god.” You groan. “You’re such an idiot.”

Three days.

A grand total of three days.

It’s sad really, but you should have seen it coming. Like Eren Jaeger’s libido would ever let him go a whole 30 days with no sex.

He blames you and the way you prance around the apartment in those tight, short shorts. How is he not supposed to want you when he has to spend the day watching your tits bounce around in that white tank top, nipples just barely visible through the fabric?

It’s not like you put up much of a fight anyways. The way that man has you wrapped around your finger, all it took was a few well-placed touches and whispers of how much he misses the way you feel and the way you taste. Just like that, Eren has you naked, legs hanging off the edge of the bed with his face buried in your cunt.

“Love this pussy.” He murmurs, nipping at the soft skin of your inner thigh. “Can’t live without it.”

He knows that he can’t be inside you. He knows. And yet he continues to torture himself because this is as close as he can get to what he really needs.

The rough pads of his fingertips massage your wall making you buck into his hand, silently begging for something deeper. He laps at you with his tongue, running it from your clit all the way down to your hole, licking up the slick that leaks out around his knuckles.

You feel the sparks of pleasure heating up your abdomen and you squeeze your thighs around his head, weaving your hands through his long, mahogany locks. ‘Eren’falls from your lips over and over in breathy mewls that only encourage him to keep going. His fingers put in double time hitting the special spot deep inside you while he seals his lips around clit and pulls it into his mouth. You dig your heels into his back to give you leverage to rut into his face as he pushes you closer and closer towards an inevitable orgasm.

You’re so hot and wet inside, squeezing so tight around his fingers. His mind conjures up memories of how good it felt to have your gooey walls clamping down on his dick and the soft cries you let out as he split you open.

He’s rock solid in his sweats right now and his cock hurts, sensitive tissue swelling and pulsating around his still fresh piercing. But he can’t think about that right now. All that’s on his mind is how badly he wants to be inside you right now. Any of your holes, it doesn’t matter which. But they’re all off limits.

Quite frankly, it pisses him off.

There is no choice but for him to take his frustrations out on your body. He slowly drags his fingers out of you, marveling at the way your needy cunt tries to pull him back in.

Before you can even protest Eren presses his fingers, still warm from your pussy and covered in your cream, against your lips.

“Open up.” He practically growls, voice thick with arousal.

You part your lips in response, letting him clean his fingers off using your tongue. Reflexively, you close your lips around them and begin to suck, moaning at the taste of yourself.

“God, princess.” He pants with his jaw slack. “Want your mouth around me so bad.”

It only motivates you to take his fingers deeper. Deep enough to make you gag as your drool runs down his knuckles while you swirl your tongue around his digits.

The way you look at him doesn’t help either. Usually you’d shy away from eye contact when he makes you do something embarrassing like this, sucking on his fingers like you’re sucking on his cock. But tonight is different. You stare straight at him with that heavy-lidded gaze, eyes glossy and full of want. The frustration is killing him, he can’t stand to look at you anymore so instead he gives his undivided attention to your cunt.

“Babe you wanna know something?” His breath fans over your soaked core, making you twitch in his hold. Something gives you the feeling that he’s not really talking to you, he’s talking to what’s between your legs. Although he’s not even looking at you, you still nod your head yes, so wound up you’ll take anything from him at this point.

“I read online,” He goes quiet for a moment, distracted at the way your weeping hole clenches around nothing, almost like it’s begging for him to fill it. “That dick piercings feel real good in pussy. I promise it’ll be worth it.”

Eren bends down to lick at your dripping hole, he slides his tongue all the way down, making sure not waste a single drop, stopping just above the tight ring of muscle making your squeal in surprise.

”Can you imagine it?” He drags is fingers from your lips, leaving a path of saliva down the valley of your breasts, across your stomach until he reaches your clit, rubbing the sensitive numb in slow, steady circles with his thumb while you fist the sheets trying to swallow the sounds he’s coaxing out of you. “How it’s gonna feel inside you? How it’s gonna hit that spot that makes you go dumb?”

Sure, he sounds composed but when you look down at him and see the way his pupils are blown wide, pretty pink tongue hanging slightly out of his mouth, you know he’s imagining it too.

“Gonna drive you crazy.” His calloused fingertips dig further into your pudgy thighs, clipped nails leaving little crescents indented in your skin. “Make you even more crazy for my cock than you already are.”

“Yeah ‘ren.” You gasp as he runs his tongue through your folds. “Wan’ your cock.” You babble mindless agreements at whatever filth he’s spewing, too fucked out and desperate for his cock to care.

Like the bastard he is, he chuckles at your response, satisfied with knowing that you want him just as bad as he wants you.

He leans forward and presses the flat of his tongue against your entrance, telling you (wordlessly) what he wants.

Beg

He wants you to beg for it.

And of course you oblige. You chant out ‘please Eren, please Eren, please Eren’ over and over again as if you’ve forgotten every other word.

He rewards for your obedience by pushing the slippery muscle into your hole, nice and slow savouring the way your tart essence covers his taste buds.

“Fuck- more please.” Your back arches off the bed in response but his left hand splays across your abdomen keeping you in place.

His right thumb is still rubbing you, pressing harder, going faster while he drives his tongue even deeper licking up all of your juices like a man starved. He devours you shamelessly, the sloppy sounds only drowned out by your pornographic whining. He thrusts in and out, in and out, in and out, fucking you with his tongue, making sure to taste every inch of you.

Your flavor is addictive, he can’t get enough. He grunts against with his face shoved against you, sending vibrations from your core, right up your spine. His fingers and tongue assault your pussy mercilessly, setting every single nerve on fire.

“Baby- ah- I- I’m close” you whimper, feeling tension brewing in your core, threatening to burst at any second.

“No.” The hand that was playing with your pussy comes down hard on your puffy clit, the sound of the smack echoing in the quiet room.

You let out a cry, so high pitched you can hardly believe it’s your voice.

“Can’t come until I do.” Just like that, he’s off of you completely, leaving you trembling without his touch.

The pain and frustration have tears brimming at your lash line. How cruel of him. To dangle an orgasm right in front of your face before yanking it away. You begin to stammer out pleas, begging him to touch you again, but they fall on deaf ears.

“C’mon princess. ‘S only fair right?” He looks up at you with the sweetest, emerald puppy dog eyes, juxtaposing the lewd way he licks the remnants of your arousal from his swollen lips.

It’s not fair at all. You weren’t the one who decided to get their dick pierced on a whim. Why should you have to suffer? But there’s too much blood in your throbbing cunt and not enough in your brain so you can hardly put together a coherent sentence, let alone argue with him.

“Gonna edge you like this every day yeah?” He shifts his body to hover over you, using his arms to hold himself up so that his nose barely brushes yours and stray stands of his messy hair tickle the sides of your face. “Till I get to fuck you again.” He dips down to kiss you on the lips. It’s barely more than a peck, far too chaste and gone far too soon.

“Christ, I can’t wait to fuck you again.”

[citrinesparkles]

welcome home.

jason todd x gender neutral reader. 2,086 words. notes: requested by an incredibly flattering anon as part of my hundred followers celebration! thank you again for the feedback, and for enabling me :) also was subconsciously influenced by this piece. warnings: arguing, discussion of danger, reader gets accidentally threatened, patching up wounds, lots more swearing than my usual (but it's all mild language). angst and comfort, i think. super dialogue heavy. this is so long and a little (lot) messy just. prepare yourself

"man," a robotic voice echoed dangerously through the dark living room, sending chills through you. "did you pick the wrong apartment."

luckily, the voice was familiar. "um, the one i live in?"

he choked out your name, startled, and you flicked on the light switch to find him frozen in place with a gun in his hand.

"right." you said tensely, glancing at it- which made him jerk his hand down, shoving the gun into its holster as though it burned him- and looking back up at the eyes of his helmet. "so, uh, i'll turn a light on next time."

"you shouldn't be home yet," he said stiffly.

"i texted you like, three hours ago to let you know i'd be home a day early."

he swore quietly. "my phone's in the river."

"how did it- you know what, at least that explains the radio silence. you didn't think to have someone else- anyone else- let me know?"

"uh." he paused, tensing almost imperceptibly for a moment. "no. i was, uh, i was busy. i'm sorry."

"busy, huh?" something felt very wrong, and not just the fact that he had nearly shot you. "okay, i'll bite, busy with what?"

"nothing important."

the sinking feeling in your stomach intensified and your eyes narrowed dangerously. "important enough that you forgot to tell me you weren't dead in an alley somewhere, when you knew i'd be texting to check in anyway. leaving me worrying in a hotel room in another city."

"nothing out of the ordinary, nothing to worry about." you were really getting sick of the sound of his modulator, but he continued before you could say anything. "go back to what you were doing, babe."

"yeah... uh, no." you stepped forwards and he flinched back defensively, making you freeze. "seriously, what is up with you tonight?"

"noth-"

"jason, i promise if you say nothing one more time, i'm going to lose my mind."

he shifted his foot back slightly, and you took a deep breath.

"okay," you conceded, raising your hands up in surrender and moving backwards yourself. "respecting your space now. that wasn't my best decis-"

your voice cut out when something under his jacket caught your eye.

something red.

"holy crap, jason, what the hell?"

he winced quietly. "you weren't supposed to be home yet, okay?"

"take that stupid helmet off already, would you?" you snapped, already moving to get the first aid kit.

"i would've gone somewhere else if i'd known, okay?" his voice, now clear and crisp without the filter, followed you down the hall.

"that does not make this better!"

"can you please not yell at me right now?"

you dashed back into the room, shooting a vicious glare at him. "jacket."

he slid it off gingerly, dropping it on the couch next to his helmet.

"can you get the armor, or do i need to help?"

even despite the domino mask he was wearing, you could tell he was rolling his eyes. "if i couldn't do it on my own, why would i have come here if i didn't think you'd be home?"

"hm," you took the piece he handed you and carefully set it on the couch, "maybe because you're a stubborn jackass?"

he grunted, sliding his undershirt off and passing it to you. "i don't wanna stain the couch with that."

"your priorities suck."

"it's the nicest piece of furniture we own!"

"it's still a couch!"

"it was expensive!"

"oh for crying out loud-" you threw your hands up again, this time in frustration. "fine! fine. i'll go put this in the tub and get a soak going. you-" you shoved the kit towards him pointedly- "start washing that off."

"how come you're calling the shots?" he snapped back petulantly.

"because my torso's in one piece."

"i have way more experience with this, i should be making the decisions here."

"oh, of course, my apologies!" your voice was absolutely dripping in sarcasm. "what, pray tell, would you have us do?"

he scowled at you for a moment before reaching for the first aid kit and flicking the lid open. "whatever."

you turned on your heel, stomping into the bathroom.

the shirt got thrown into the tub and the tap got tossed all the way on, and as the water crashed into the gray fabric, you took the opportunity to squeeze your eyes shut and breathe deeply.

you opened your eyes a minute later, finding the water dyed a rusty almost-red from blood.

his blood.

you turned off the tap- gently pushed the handle, this time, the fire in your chest now largely extinguished- and made your way back to the living room to find him running a rag over the space below his ribs.

"may i?" you asked softly, stopping a few feet away and holding a hand out to him.

his jaw clenched and relaxed three times in quick succession, but he finally sighed and dropped his shoulders before holding the rag out. "yeah, c'mere."

you worked in silence, being as gentle as possible. jerking your hand back and mumbling apologies when he hissed.

"s'okay, comes with the territory."

you pressed the alcohol-soaked towel back against him, and he sighed.

"that was stupid, huh."

a small laugh escaped you. "it so was."

"can we..."

"try that again?"

"yeah."

you pulled back, standing up straight to meet his eyes. "only if i can take the dumb mask off of you."

"i thought you liked the mask," he teased, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

"jason."

he chuckled, wincing again when it jostled his wounds. "ouch. uh, yeah, mask. g'head."

you gently pulled it from his face, setting it neatly on his other gear before running your thumbs across the line of adhesive it left on his cheekbones. "hi there."

"hey." he leaned into your touch, vibrant eyes fluttering halfway shut. "so uh, welcome home."

"thanks. could've done without the gun, though."

a choking sound tore from his throat, his eyes flying back open. "holy shit, baby, i almost-" he jerked back from you, no regard for his side. "you almost- shit, shit, are you- i'm so sorry, i didn't-"

"okay, woah, hey-"

"i could have killed you."

it was a whisper, horrified and harsh, and while it was technically true, his tone teetered on the edge of a dark space you had seen before and really didn't want him falling back into.

"yeah."

you desperately searched for the right thing to say, rejecting variations of "but hey, you didn't actually", "maybe you should be more careful about waving a gun at people", and one particularly unhelpful "no shit, sherlock".

finally, you settled on a quiet, calm "but i'm still right here, okay?"

his hand flew up to cover his mouth, doing absolutely nothing to hide the near panic written on his features. "i could have killed you."

"okay, so, in the future, we'll... we'll uh, we'll come up with some kind of system for letting you know when i'm home, or something."

"oh, like a phone?" he asked harshly. "the one i was stupid and sloppy enough to dunk in the harbor?"

"that wasn't- i'm guessing that you had a lot on your plate." you waved the cold, bloody towel in your hand at his wounds. it made him curl in on himself slightly, stepping backwards again until his back hit the arm of the couch.

"no excuses. i could have killed you."

"i-"

"no, i almost shot without saying anything!" he exclaimed, brow furrowed and eyes stormy. "i thought someone had broken in, and i got so- i don't even know, damn territorial or some stupid shit- that i almost put a bullet between your eyes. i could have-"

"jason!"

he screwed his eyes shut and dropped his head, roughly tugging his fingers through his hair. "i almost-"

"but you didn't. okay?" every fiber of your being wanted to hold him, to tug him into you and put his hand against your ribs and show him you were okay and breathing, heart still pumping, but he looked enough like a cornered animal that you half expected him to bite you if you tried. "c'mon, jaybird. a life like yours, can you really afford almosts?"

"life like mine, i can't afford to let anyone close to me. apparently, if the goons and thugs don't kill you, i will."

"that's not-"

"what if i hadn't said something?" he snapped venomously. "what if i'd lost more blood and was loopy from it? what if i'd come home with a concussion- again- and didn't think past 'point and shoot'?"

"jason," you finally interjected. "you think i haven't thought about that?"

his eyes, grim and vicious and so full of emotion that you thought you could drown in them, dropped to the floor.

"because it's not a secret that your life is risky. you're risky. i know that. but you're worth every ounce of danger, okay? i'm choosing this, choosing you, knowing full well what i'm getting into, because you're worth all of it."

"i'm not worth any of it."

"that's not your call to make."

"it-"

"you think i need you to make my choices for me?"

"no, of course not."

"you think im stuck here?"

"do you feel like you are?"

"absolutely not." you inched forward again. "i'm here because i want to be."

"...i just... i don't..."

"don't want me to get hurt?"

he finally looked back up at you, eyes watery and jaw tense. "or worse."

"i know, baby. i know," you sighed. "but that's part of life, right? and if the hurt's inevitable, i want the rest of my time to be as nice as possible, and you make my life better. make me better."

"by putting you in danger?"

"it's gotham, handsome, i'm gonna be in danger either way. at least with you, i know i have someone looking out for me. right?"

"always," he said immediately.

"okay then." you took the last step between the two of you slowly, watching for any resistance. meeting none, you brushed your knuckles against his. "i can't think of anywhere i'd feel safer."

"you know that's crazy, right?"

you hummed quietly. "nah."

"i'm being serious."

"me too."

he studied your face silently. you smiled softly at him.

finally, a sigh escaped him and he scooted his hand forward, wrapping his index finger around your own and squeezing gently. "you're sure you want this? i can set you up with a place downtown for a bit. you'd never have to see me again, never have to worry about... all of this."

"i've never been more sure of anything." you said it firmly, confidently, letting the words hang in the air for a few moments before popping one eyebrow up playfully. "why, need to make room for a side piece?"

a startled choking sound escaped him. "excuse me?"

"i mean, when you were talking about being busy, it felt kinda suspicious."

"what is wrong with you?" he asked, exasperation and laughter coating his voice.

"listen, you were being evasive!" his head fell forwards, resting on your shoulder as he laughed.

"i didn't want you to know i was bleeding all over the place!"

"why, didn't want me to worry?"

"exactly!"

you reached your free hand up, gently resting it on the back of his head and playing with his hair. "then maybe, just maybe, you should have gotten someone to tell me your phone went for a swim."

"fair enough."

you stood quietly for a long time, running your fingers through his hair and enjoying the feeling of his breath against your collar.

"i..." he muttered, pulling back to look in your eyes. "i don't think- um. i don't think i'm..." he groaned, gaze darting to the ceiling. "i love you. but the minute you have enough of- of all of this-"

"i won't."

"but if you do, i'll... i'll understand, okay?"

you squeezed his finger gently. "okay." you inhaled deeply, dropping the bloody towel you were still clutching and slid your hand forward to hold his completely. "can we get a bandage on that and go to bed, now?"

"....yes please."

---

"wait!" you yelled, throwing the first aid kit haphazardly onto the bathroom counter and racing after him into the bedroom, where he whirled around with wide eyes. "i love you too! i never said it back- i love you too."

"don't yell like that- i thought something was wrong!"

"me not saying it back is urgently wrong, jason!"

[jenoismydad]

For Your Eyes Only

its been a while since i’ve written nomin smut. this one took quite a while to write and its kinda crack but i still hope you all enjoy it. smut begins at the ♥️ incase you don’t want to read the plot.

Pairing: Jeno x Reader x Jaemin

Genre: Smut; Threesome, Fem Receiving, Male Receiving, Unprotected Sex

Words: 3.8k+

Synopsis: You take a naughty picture for Jaemin without realising that you accidentally sent it to Jeno instead. One wrong text leads to a night of immeasurable pleasure ;)

Warnings: None

»»————-　➴　————-««

It was 3 a.m. and you were unbelievably horny. After unsuccessfully attempting to satisfy yourself, you gave up and decided to call your neighbour cum fuck buddy, Jaemin, hoping that he was still awake and that he’d be kind enough to come over and help you out with your ‘problem’. Luckily for you, he picked up, and when you presented your case, he asked you to give him 20 minutes, during which time he’d finish playing a video game, shower and then arrive to tend to your needs. Still, since the offer was better than nothing, you agreed and decided to wait. However 20 minutes later, your doorbell failed to ring. So, you called him once again to check up and make sure that the offer was still standing. This time, Jaemin claimed that he’d only need 10 more minutes, but if you were to give him an incentive of sorts, then he’d consider hurrying up. He also ridiculously concluded by adding that doing so would be a win-win situation for you both as he’d get to see your boobs due to which you’d get to be railed by him sooner.

Since it all made perfect sense, there was no reason for you to say no to this newly introduced

proposition. All you had to do was click a picture and send it to him. That would be the end of that, and you’d both get what you wanted. However, you knew very well how Jaemin’s friends liked to snoop around in his phone. It so happened that you’d once sent Jaemin a rather proactive text, leading from which was an hour long conversation about all the dirty things you both wanted to do to each other. Later on, much to your horror, Jaemin informed you that it wasn’t actually him who you were sexting but instead, one of his buddies who’d borrowed his phone to ‘play some games’. It was amusing for Jaemin but the incident had scarred you beyond belief. The embarrassment you felt afterwards was immeasurable and so, you’d been careful with the way you made your booty calls ever since.

To put it straight, you were reluctant to send Jaemin a few nudes in the fear that someone who wasn’t him might come across them. But after giving it quite a lot of thought, you realised that you were just too horny and impatient to keep dragging this out. If you wanted to get relieved so that you could soundly fall asleep, you needed to get Jaemin down here as soon as possible.

So, without so much as a thought, you opened your camera, took the raunchiest set of pictures that you possibly could, and sent them to him with a reminder that they were for his eyes only. After that you were left to stare at your phone screen, waiting to see if he’d gotten his ‘incentive’ or not. It took him a few seconds, but soon enough, he saw them. You didn’t know if he was at a loss of words or if he was just trying to send you a cheesy pick up line that he couldn’t quite seem to remember. He kept ‘typing’ but you never got a response and it was beginning to make you feel antsy. Just before you were about to call him again, you heard a knock at your door.

Feeling a sense of relief, you straightened yourself up a bit before opening the door. “Took you long enough-”, you muttered distastefully, pausing when you surprisingly met eyes with someone who was clearly not Jaemin.

“Jeno? What are you doing here?” you asked, extremely confused as to why your next door neighbour was at your house at such a late hour. He seemed conflicted, dazed almost, knuckles having turned white because of how tightly he was holding his phone. Something was wrong. You noticed this and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Is everything okay? Do you wanna come inside?”

He shook his head, nodding soon after, seemingly in a dilemma of sorts. You stepped aside, allowing him to enter your home. “Jeno what’s going on?” you asked once again, starting to feel concerned for your friend. He was usually always so calm and composed so his current demeanour seriously caught you off guard. For some reason he was fighting for words.

“Umm, I don’t know how to say this but, did you mean to send those pictures to me?” he spoke quickly, avoiding your gaze immediately after. Now you were at a loss of words. You weren’t stupid and you were pretty sure you knew what he was talking about. It didn’t take you too long to put two and two together. To further support your doubts, his deranged state plus apparent timidness suggested that he’d seen something horrific, something that he hadn’t intended to see and something that you were now realising must have been sent to the wrong person. As soon as it occurred to you, you checked your messages, feeling absolutely dreadful when your suspicions were confirmed. You’d sent your nudes to him instead of Jaemin. How, you did not know. What were you supposed to do now? Apologise? Even if you did, and even if he forgave you, you couldn’t live with the fact that he’d seen you naked, or semi naked or whatever. Jeno wasn’t someone who you could ignore that easily. He lived right next to you, you always ran into him in the elevator and down the halls and he was your go to 5 minute grocery store from whom you’d borrow eggs or laundry detergent, whatever it was that you’d run out of. He was very crucial and unavoidable so now, what were you going to do about this?

“Fuck, I-, I’m so sorry you had to see those. I mean, I wasn’t trying to send them to you.”, you began. “I don’t even send nudes. Like this was the one time, the one time that I did and look what happened.” Chuckling nervously you continued, “I guess you could say that I was super desperate, I mean-”

“Yeah, that’s not an understatement.”, Jeno mumbled, tilting his head with a subtle smirk. You stumbled over your words as you registered what he said. Pausing, you pursed your lips and uncertainly faced him. “What do you mean by that?” Jeno looked up at you and scratched his neck. “I could hear everything.”, he admitted, somewhat embarrassedly. “These walls are incredibly thin. You’d be surprised at how much detail they fail to spare.”

Your eyes widened, face turning a deep shade of red. He’d heard you masturbating. How humiliating. If the door wasn’t closed, you would’ve bolted. The uncanny amount of awkwardness that had settled over you both felt like it could crush you at this point. Why did he feel the need to tell you that? If you were in his place then you would’ve just kept it to yourself, no matter how awkward it would make you feel around him. It was enough that he’d seen your nudes, but this, this was practically the cherry on top.

But then, Jeno proceeded to say something so unfathomable, so completely unlikely of him, that it made you question whether the man standing before you was actually the same cheerful person that you’d been living beside for the past few years or if it was just another overly confident horny teenager on omegle.

“I could help out if you’d like.”

You wanted to scream, to run and hide somewhere where he could never trace you because how the fuck were you supposed to respond to that. So straightforward, so suggestive and so utterly shameless. It felt like he’d put you on the spot. If you said no then it would make things manifold awkward and you didn’t know if you could afford to bear that. If things ever became like that then the only choice you’d have left is to move out, which you once again, were beyond the means of affording. But that in no way meant that you were obligated to agree to his suggestion. So now the question arises...why on earth did you?

Though you’d claim that you’d never thought of Jeno like that, it was common knowledge that you had, at least once in your life, indeed wondered what he was all about. Whenever he wasn’t smiling he looked like a walking full course meal. Jeno was attractive, you would never deny that. And that thing he’d said about the walls being thin. Well let’s just say that you’d lived through a few endless nights of wondering what the heck that man was doing to drunken women in his dingy ass bed that had them screaming like that. It was enticing, it was exciting, and the more you thought about it, the more curious you were to find out. Other than that you felt like it would make things less awkward. He’d seen you partially naked. But if he saw you completely naked and you saw him completely naked then you felt like that would balance things out. Were you stupid? Yes you were. Were you insanely horny? Surprisingly, despite everything that had just happened, yes, you still were.

♥️

“Turn the lights off.”, you instructed with a smirk, pointing to the switch behind Jeno. He did as you said, chuckling when you pulled him towards your couch excitedly. Pushing him down, you quickly got on top of his lap and crashed your lips onto his. Jeno wrapped his arms around your waist, sighing into the kiss. Wanting to waste no time, your tongue brushed over his bottom lip. Jeno parted his lips, letting your tongue run over his. He hastily pushed your shirt up, messily pulling it off over your head. He then flipped you over, laying you down on the couch as he hovered over your body. “Can I just go for it?” he asked, grinning when you nodded. With your permission, Jeno shoved his hand into your pants and past your panties until his fingers ghosted over your clit. You gasped, anticipating his next move. Jeno chuckled and began rubbing soft circles into your clit. You let out a shaky breath, moaning when he dipped his head down to place wet kisses on the skin of your neck. For a second there, you got so lost in the feeling of his calloused fingers on your clit that you failed to notice the budding tension in your abdomen. It wasn’t until you came undone all over his fingers, that it occurred to you. Jeno didn’t stop however. He continued rubbing your clit, sending you into a frenzy over sensitivity. You mewled, hugging his body tightly. Your thighs snapped shut, nails digging into his shoulders as the sensation started becoming too much for you to take. “Take your pants off.”, Jeno spoke quickly, sitting up to do the same. You tugged everything off, laying back down on the couch, giving Jeno quite the sight of your glistening core. Once his cock was free of its restraints, he gave it a few hard pumps before lining his tip up against your slit. Your hips twitched at the ticklish feeling. You spread your legs wider, waiting for him to push into you. Leaning over your body, Jeno’s cock soon filled you up. The overstimulation had your pussy burning. But you didn’t mind anymore. Something about the way his girth pushed against your tight walls made you believe that you were in for something amazing. Holding himself up on his palms, Jeno began thrusting into your. Considering how wet you were, he didn’t have to build up his pace. You closed your eyes, basking in the feeling of his cock fucking you. It felt so good. It was exactly what you’d been craving for. Jeno maintained his fulfillung thrusts, not too slow but not too fast. You swore if he kept fucking you like that it would be enough to bring you to a second orgasm. But you were impatient and the desire to feel those euphoric waves crash down on you again was more demanding than you’d like for it to be. And so your hand sneakily came down to your clit, proceeding to add to the pleasure that you were already feeling. Sweat trickled down Jeno’s forehead as he chased his own high. Both of you were so consumed in your own pleasure that no one heard the lock jiggling. Your loud moans masked the sounds of someone entering your home. It wasn’t until the imposter actually said something, that you realised someone was watching you.

“How could you guys get started without me?”, an all too familiar voice whined.

Jeno froze in place. You on the other hand, were so close to cumming, that even though you’d seen Jaemin standing there, your fingers never ceased their movements. And as soon as your eyes locked with Jaemin’s, your orgasm hit. You’d never been in such a intimately awkward situation before. On one hand your body was springing with thrilling pleasure while on the other hand, you were flabergastedly staring at your fuck buddy. Talk about timing.

“Jaemin what are you doing here!”, you asked, not quite understanding how he’d gotten into your home. He furrowed his brows, seemingly offended. “Umm, hadn’t you asked me to help you out with your problem?” Still buried balls deep in you, Jeno looked between you and Jaemin, more confused than he’d ever been in his entire life. How could you have forgotten about Jaemin? Of course he was going to come over. But still, who let him in? “How did you manage to get inside?”, you asked, as you moved to sit up. Jaemin raised his hands in defence. “The door wasn’t locked. That’s not my fault. It’s yours.” He pointed at you accusingly. You rolled your eyes. “Still, you’re supposed to knock. You can’t just barge in-” “

Oh please.”, he interrupted, holding a hand up to stop you. “It’s not like you’re doing something I’ve never seen before.”

“When have you ever walked in on me having sex?”

Jaemin gave your question some thought. “Hmm? Now that I think of it, never actually.” He smiled bashfully, eyes darting over to Jeno. Jaemin clapped his hands. “This guy however, I’ve walked in on him countless times. Surprised that he actually stopped though. Usually he just ignores me and continues.”, Jaemin revealed. Jeno rolled his eyes and looked over to you. “Bitch always cock blocks me. But whatever, if he’s here now I think I can leave.”

Before he could pull out of you however, you grabbed his hand, halting him. “You didn’t even finish yet. Please don’t tell me you’re going to jerk off.” Jaemin nodded at your words. “Come on Jenny. Don’t disappoint yourself. Cum, and then you can leave. You’ve gotta finish what you’ve started.”, he added. Jeno looked at Jaemin. “What are you going to do then? Stand there and watch?”

Jaemin looked at you. “Well I could join if you’d like.” Jeno turned to you as well. “I’m fine with it. Are you?”

You looked between both boys. “Have you guys done this before?” You’d asked because it seemed like they had.

Jaemin nodded, walking over to you both. “This one time, Jeno got super duper day drunk and he called some girl over and then I came downstairs because I needed some eggs and they were doing it on the couch, just like you two were right now, and the girl pointed to me and was like ‘can he join us’ and so I joined them and then we had sex and it was really good and yeah.”

That was only one time though and Jeno was drunk. Something about the way Jeno had agreed to this made you believe that this was something that had probably happened more than once. As if he’d heard all the questions in your mind, Jeno continued Jaemin’s narration. “Jaemin was having a party at his place once. I hooked up with someone in his room and he walked in on us. Dude just joined in like it was nothing and honestly, it was super fun.”

“And were you drunk then?”

Jeno shook his head. “Surprisingly, I was not.”

That sure said a lot. Maybe this wouldn’t be that bad. You knew Jaemin was a good fuck and Jeno was proving to be right up to the mark. You’d never done something like this before but after everything that you’d been through tonight, what was the point in feeling embarrassed. You were ready to let go and lose yourself.

Jaemin undressed himself, and made you lay back down again. “Don’t gag on me y/n. I know you can take it.” You gulped, equally nervous and excited. Jeno pulled out of you, pumping his cock a few times before turning you onto your stomach. He pulled your hips up and pressed his tip into your slit. “Can we have a countdown Jenni?”, Jaemin asked, holding his own cock to your mouth. “No. And stop calling me Jenni, it’s weird.” Jaemin pouted but nonetheless, tapped your lips. “Open up y/n.”, he cooed. Jeno pushed into you from behind and resumed fucking you, the same way he had been before.

You spit on Jaemin’s cock, waiting for him to slick his length up before opening wide for him. Once he pushed his cock into your mouth, you wrapped your lips around his girth, swirling your tongue over his tip, just the way you knew he liked it. Jaemin smiled, holding your hair out of your face. With Jeno’s forceful thrusts, you didn’t need to bob your head over Jaemin’s cock. “Jenni, have you ever gotten your dick sucked by y/n? If you haven’t, I highly recommend it. Y/n ensures 100% customer satisfaction.”, Jaemin spoked happily. You snickered, sending a rumble of vibrations through his cock. Jaemin shivered and tapped your nose. “That tickled.”

Jeno scoffed at Jaemin’s childish tone. “Is he always like this?”, Jeno asked you. You gave him a thumbs up and pulled Jaemin’s cock out of your mouth. “He’s only serious when he’s about to cum.” Jaemin gasped and grabbed your jaw. “Who said you could stop missy?”

Jaemin shoved his cock back into your mouth and held your head down. Your nose was mere inches from his abdomen. You grabbed onto his hand, a sign that you’d gotten the message. You wouldn’t stop until he finished now. Jeno snickered and upped his pace. He fucked you nice and hard. Jaemin’s cock muffled your moans. Every time Jeno thrusted into you from behind, Jaemin pushed his hips into your mouth from the front.

“So Jenni.”, Jaemin started, clearly not close to his high. “How’d you end up here?”

Jeno grunted as he fucked you. “She sent me something that was meant for you. I came here to ask her about it. We ended up fucking.”, he explained, never losing his pace once. Jaemin nodded and raised a brow. “Wonder what she sent you. I never get nudes.”

“It was just a picture of her half naked. Her tits looked real nice though.”, Jeno shared. “Oh. If I’d have gotten them instead, I would’ve been down here sooner.”, Jaemin admitted. You weren’t too sure about that. You knew Jaemin would’ve made you reveal more than you originally had. “Can you send me the pictures later y/n? I’d really love to see them.”

You gently bit Jaemin’s cock, making him wince. He also effectively shut up and continued to remain quite thereafter. The sound of skin hitting skin soon filled the room. Jeno fucked you faster. He was close. You clenched your walls around his shaft, hoping that it would help him reach his high quicker. “Fuck. Do that again.”, he muttered, fingers digging into your ass. Pushing your hips backward, you clenched your walls around his cock again. Jeno groaned in satisfaction, ramming his hips into you one last time before filling you up with hot ropes of his cum. You hummed against Jaemin’s cock as Jeno emptied himself into you and eventually pulled out. Seeing that your pussy was now unoccupied, Jaemin pulled out of your mouth and quickly sat down on the couch. You threw your leg over his lap and lowered yourself onto his cock without wasting a second. Somewhere in the back you could hear Jeno fishing for his clothes. Jaemin sucked in a breath, undoing your bra with a simple flick of his wrist. He tugged the material off your body and went straight for your nipple, running his tongue over the sensitive bud.

“Good night guys.”, Jeno said, standing by your door. Jaemin pulled away from your breast and looked over his shoulder. “Good night Jenni! I hope we don’t keep you up.” Jeno made his exit, leaving you and Jaemin to be. Jaemin bucked his hips upwards, fucking into you from below. Loud moans poured out of your mouth as he rammed into you.

“Isn’t this what you wanted y/n. Didn’t you want to feel my cock inside of you like this?”, Jaemin questioned, losing the playful demeanour. You nodded frantically. “Yes, Jaemin. Oh god, yes!”You couldn’t even speak coherently because of how quick he was fucking you. You could feel Jeno’s sticky cum trailing down your thighs. It all felt so lewd but you would never complain about it. “Are you going to cum all over my cock y/n?”, Jaemin asked, noticing the way your moans became shriller. You didn’t answer him. You couldn’t answer him. You were too focused on the knot forming in your stomach to think about anything else. “Fuck I’m gonna cum.”, you moaned, fingeres tugging on his hair in desperation. Jaemin said nothing further and sped up his thrusts, hammering into you from below.

Your orgasm hit you so hard that your thighs began quivering at the strong sensation. You shut your eyes, a screen of white flashing before them as Jaemin slowed down a bit. He helped you ride out your high, grabbing your hips in order to keep you moving over him. Your walls were tight around his cock, and after a few more thrusts, he twitched inside you, soon emptying his seed into, just as Jeno had. After he pulled out of you, you fell onto the couch, suddenly feeling very fatigued. It was almost the morning now. God knows how long you’d been trying to fuck off your horniness. Thankfully, you were now fully and completely satisfied. “Aren’t you gonna clean yourself up?”, Jaemin asked, walking into your bathroom with his clothes in hand. You didn’t have the energy to move anymore. Jaemin came back, fully dressed, with a blanket and warm towel which he gave to you. You lazily ran it over your thighs, pulling the blanket over yourself soon after. Jaemin concluded that it was time for him to go home now. He bid you a farewell and was about to leave your house before he remembered that he had something to ask.

“Can you still send me whatever I was meant to see? I’d really love that.”

[cazimagines]

A Freudian Slip - Part 3

Part 1, Part 2

Masterlist

Synopsis: While a fight breaks out Zemo asks you to run away from him, you accept leaving on an eventful journey with him

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Smut

Author’s note: A final 3rd installment for ‘A Freudian Slip’ I hope you all have enjoyed this brief series! Next to come out is a sequel to ‘Perfectly Exasperating’

Bucky carried Zemo back into the house bridal style, his hands gripping tightly around Zemo’s legs and chest, and dropped him onto the sofa in the midst of the room. Zemo was knocked out from when John Walker had the brilliant idea to stop Zemo from smashing all the super-soldier serum by chucking his shield at him. You could see a nasty bruise forming on the top of his head where he was struck.

You gently run your fingers over the side of his face. At this moment he looked so peaceful sleeping, his lips pulled up into a natural slight smile, parts of his hair dangled down across his forehead, his face softened and not tensed like it usually appeared to be. You brush the hair back into its usual place, running your fingers over his feverish forehead.

You turn to Bucky and Sam, whose eyes burn into yours, millions of questions flashing through them, yet they remain unspoken. “I’ll look after him,” you tell them, turning your gaze back to Zemo's peaceful form. It was easier to stare at him than them at the moment.

“You and Zemo have been spending a lot of time together,” Sam states, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Because I’ve been making sure he doesn’t betray us,” You snap back, refusing to look at them

“Sam and I have been doing that as well and you haven’t seen us giving him bedroom eyes,” Bucky argues back, stepping forward, but Sam grabs a hold of his arm to stop him from going further.

“Look y/n, we’re just concerned about you. That guy a criminal, he could easily manipulate you,”

Your eyes flash to him angrily, “You think I would be easy to manipulate,”

“No, that’s not what I meant-” Sam says but Bucky interrupts him

“Yes. I know him, y/n, that is exactly something he would do. You can’t trust him,”

“I’ve told you already, I’m just making sure he doesn’t betray us. There’s nothing else. I’d appreciate it if you believed me,”

They sigh in defeat, glancing at each other, then back to you. “Look, I will not argue with you. Go get him the things he requires. Bucky and I need to check to see if we can find Karli. I might get a chance to talk to her again” Sam says and he and Bucky turn their backs, sending one last concerning look at you over their shoulders then disappearing.

You sigh looking back to Zemo who still slept peacefully unaware. A smile tugged on your mouth, but it twisted to a frown. You all knew damn well you had been lying. Whether you wanted to admit it, you liked Zemo. Every time you saw him, the urge to kiss his lips pulled you in. You could still feel his embrace, his kisses on your neck, shoulders, collar. The sensation of him inside you, touching you. You craved it more and more like he was your addiction.

You don’t know how you hadn’t gotten to this point of being so obsessed with him, where it had kicked in. You always found him attractive, from when you first laid your eyes on him as he broke out of the prison, you felt that attraction pull to him. You never expected it would be anything more though till that one embarrassing moment when you called him daddy in the undercover mission. You could still feel your cheeks burn up in embarrassment as you remembered that night, but you could also feel your body warm up as you thought about what happened in the alleyway. How he kissed you so passionately. So earnestly.

You had tried to deny your feelings, pretend it wasn’t there, and that kiss that never happened, but Zemo would not let you avoid him. Your eyes flickered to the bathroom and your breath hitches as you remember the intimacy you two spent together there. It was there you felt you truly saw Zemo for the person he was. A man who was lonely and broken from his past. A man who cared for you no matter what Sam or Bucky says.

You felt so scared when you saw the shield hit Zemo. Panic gripped your heart as you rushed over to him. John peered down at you like you were dirt as you cradled Zemo’s head in your lap. Sam and Bucky had run up to you and were surprised you were on your knees holding his head in your hands.

As you were observing him, Zemo's eyes cracked open, and he moaned in discomfort, bringing his hand to rub his eyes. Leaping up, you shouted at him to stay still as you fetched a flannel, running it under cold water, and brought it back to him.

He smiled as you handed him the flannel, the sides of his lips curling up like a cat. “Thank you” he mumbles.

“I’ll get you a drink,”

“You’re being very kind to me y/n,”

“Don’t get used to it,”

He snickered at your sudden switch to hostility, “Will we constantly be bouncing between kindness and hatred?”

You exhale, sitting down beside him, handing a glass of whiskey to him. “I don’t hate you, Zemo, though I really should. There’s something about you I just love and I can’t let go.”

You hesitate, both of you pondering over your sudden confession. Zemo raises the flannels of his eyes and looks over at you. His eyes, which are full of wonder, scan yours. You wanted to look away, embarrassed, but you couldn’t. You didn’t want to keep running away from how you felt.

“You terrified me earlier. I thought John Walker had killed you.”

His eyes switched to concern as his eyebrows furrowed, “I’m sorry I frightened you y/n. I- I never thought I would ever get over my wife and... I still love her but you enthrall me, you drive me wild because I want to know everything about you, feel all of you, touch all of you. It’s been so long since I felt this way and it frightens me.”

You reach out your hand to grasp his and he runs his thumb over your knuckles,

“Zemo I-”

The door opens and both yours and Zemo’s head snaps towards it as Sam and Bucky walkthrough. As quick as lightning, you let go of Zemo’s hand and strode away to the opposite side of the room. Zemo’s eyes sadly glance at you, then to his hand, and he lets out a sigh. He takes a sip of his drink, then pulls the flannel back over, his eyes settling down on the sofa.

Bucky rolls his views and wanders off while Sam grabs a seat at the table to work on his laptop. The silence was suffocating. At least for you. Sam seemed to try hard to concentrate on the laptop, but Zemo relaxed, sipping his drink and you pulled out your phone, playing a silly game to waste away the time.

“Were you ever offered it?” Zemo finally asks Sam. Sam’s gaze leaves the laptop looking at you, then over to Zemo.

“What?”

“The serum,”

“No,”

You glance between them, not knowing if you should leave or not. Sam didn’t seem to want to be engaged in a conversation, but Zemo wasn’t taking the hint.

“If you had been, hypothetically, that is, would you have taken it?”

Without a second hesitation, Sam replies, a harsh tone to his voice, “No”

“No hesitation. That’s impressive,” Zemo says, nodding in approval.

He raises his hand, taking off the flannel with a slight grunt, “Sam,” he says as he holds the flannel in his hand, his gaze unwavering from it.

“You can’t hold out hope for Karli. No matter what you saw in her. She’s gone. And we cannot allow her and her acolytes become yet another faction of gods among real people. Super soldiers cannot be allowed to exist.”

You look down to the ground, frowning at Zemo’s words, but Sam answers without hesitation, “Isn’t that how god's talk?"

Zemo’s eyes continue to glare down at the flannel, for once not speaking up.

“And if that’s how you feel, what about Bucky?”

“Blood isn’t always the solution” Sam finishes as you hear a door click in the background. As Bucky walks in, you get up and walk over to Zemo again, who sits up to let you sit beside him. He gently places his hand on your knee, your eyes flickering to each other, hiding the action enough so the others don’t see. Though you both say nothing because of the present company, it’s as if you could read each other's thoughts. You were both conflicted on what path to follow and because of that, you found solace in each other.

“Something’s not right about Walker,” Bucky mutters, shrugging off his jacket.

“Like we hadn’t known that from the start,” you mumble

“Well, I know a crazy when I see one. Because I am crazy,”

“Can’t argue with that,” Sam agrees

The two argue about the shield once again and you were preparing to stop them when the doors once again burst open and John Walker and his partner storm in. All your heads turn towards the disruption and you groan in frustration at seeing him.

“All right. That’s it. Let’s go. I’m ordering you to hand him over,”

Both Sam walks out in front of John to stop him from getting nearer Zemo. You stood up to go stand by him as well, but Zemo grasps your hand as he gets up, shaking his head. Your eyebrows turn down confused, but he doesn’t offer you an explanation.

With his other hand, he hands the bottle of whiskey over to you, then picks up his glass, dragging you over to the kitchen counter. You weren’t paying attention to what Sam and John were saying till a spear flew past them, imbedding in one pillar.

Your eyes widened as you saw Dora Milaje storm in.

One of them speaks in Wakandan to Bucky, obviously pissed. “Release him to us now” she orders in English. Zemo’s eyes glance anxiously from yours to them, his mind swarming with thoughts of how to get out.

“Hi, John Walker. Captain America.” John says walking over to them. They refuse to say anything to him, so he looks awkwardly away.

“Well, let’s uh put down the pointy sticks and we can talk this through, huh?” he says, patronising them. You wanted to facepalm because of his stupidity.

“Hey, John. Take this easy. You might want to fight Bucky before you tangle with the Dora Milaje,” Sam warns

John Walker however doesn’t listen. He proceeds to antagonise them till he finally places a hand on her shoulder and all hell breaks loose.

Both you and Zemo stand at the side watching John Walker fight them. Zemo sips his whiskey and offers you a sip. You smile slightly at his nonchalant attitude about the fight, letting him raise the glass to your lips as you drink.

Both Sam and Bucky eventually join in the fight as well, and once again you move to join them, but Zemo’s grip on your hand tightens. “Not now little one” he mutters

He peers around, watching the fight as you stare questionably at him, “Zemo what the hell is up with you today. Did that hit to the head get rid of your common sense” you whisper angrily trying to tug your hand out of his. Zemo rolls his eyes at you, clasping your hand.

“We need to go” he whispers urgently and tries to tug you towards the bathroom.

“What? Zemo, Zemo wait. What do you mean we?” You ask, grounding your feet into the floor.

He looks around at the fighting, his skin becoming whiter as he gets more worried. “We don’t have a lot of time y/n, please. I need you to come with me,”

You didn’t know where he wanted to go, or how he was planning on leaving, but you could see fear prickling in his eyes as he looked at you.

“What about Sam and Bucky?”

“They will be okay. Please y/n, I want to spend this time with you. I don’t want to do this alone,”

You stare into his eyes once more, then nod, finally making your choice.

You let him lead you back into the bathroom and close the door behind him. He quickly pushes the bath aside, revealing a passageway into the sewer.

“Ugh,” you say to yourself as you look down the hole. “Ladies first,” Zemo says, placing his hand on your back, the side of his lip curling up into a smile as he guides you over to the hole.

You shoot him a glare before grasping onto the ladder and clambering down as fast as you could, trying your best not to slip.

After a minute you reached the bottom of the ladder and Zemo arrived quickly after. It was so dark down there, but thankfully Zemo had a flashlight in his coat. Once again grabbing a hold of your hand, he guides you down a pathway.

“So this was the best escape plan you had?” you ask, your nose wrinkling at the unpleasant smell

“I’m sorry y/n, did you have a better plan?” he replies sarcastically

“Well, I didn’t know I was running away with you until a minute before,”

Zemo pauses, beaming the light on your face, making you cringe. He lowers it slightly. So it wasn’t in your eyes but still illuminated your face.

“I owe you a thank you for coming with me. I know it wasn’t a simple decision to leave your friends for a person you meet just a few days ago,”

“When you put it like that, you make me feel even crazier for making this decision,” you grumble

“But it’s okay Zemo, Sam and Bucky will be fine without me, and I wanted to be with you,”

Zemo raises his hand to cup the side of your face, his thumb running along your cheekbone. Quickly he pulls you to him, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. His spare hand holding the flashlight wraps around your waist as he holds you there, moving his lips on yours, which you reciprocate.

As suddenly as it had started, it ended. He pulled away slightly, his lips still brushing against yours. “Thank you, little one”

His nickname for you sends shivers along your spine and you let out a husky breath. He smirks at you, turning around, and continues to walk down the pathway.

Eventually, you reach another ladder that you can climb up. You blink a lot as you emerge into the sunlight, finding yourself on a random road.

“What now?” you ask

Zemo walks over to a car, jumping into the driver's seat, and pats the passenger seat next to him. As you get in beside him he easily hot wires the car and gets the engine started.

“So have lots of experience stealing cars?” you ask Zemo and he chuckles, “When you become a criminal you pick up a lot of new skills,”

“I suppose aiding with the escape of a criminal now makes me one as well. You bring about a lot of surprises,”

“I’ve been told I am quite surprising,” he glances at you, smirking as he drives, “And seductive,”

You slap the side of his arm lightly, “Eyes on the road, mister”

“Mister? I think I prefer what you called me before. Hm, what was that again?”

You groan as Zemo brings up that embarrassing night for you, “You’ll never let that go, will you?”

“You calling me daddy? Of course not. I quite like it,”

“Where are we even going?” you ask trying to direct the conversation somewhere else

Zemo turns from looking at you to the road, the smile on his face slowly fading.

“Sokovia,”

Your breath hitches as he says the name of his country, bringing back the reminders of his previous family.

“I want to see the memorial,”

You nod quietly, not sure what you could say.

For the next ten minutes, you two sit in uncomfortable silence. All previous moments where you were having fun had faded. Eventually, Zemo sighed in frustration and made a sharp turn in the car, pulling into a secluded spot on an empty road.

He turns off the car and turns to face you. “It seems to me we need to talk,”

You look to him then away, “I don’t think so”

“Y/n” he growls

“I said we don’t need to talk!” you shout, glaring at him, but you snap your lips shut as you realised how much anger had suddenly built up in you.

Recognition flashes in Zemo’s eyes as he stares at you, “This is about my family, isn’t it?”

You look away, your cheeks burning as you knew how ridiculous you were being.

Zemo nods his head, looking at the road ahead as he thought over what to say.

“You are part of the reason I want to go to the memorial,” he finally admits

It was your turn to look at him, puzzled. He pushes his lips together as he prepares for what he wants to say next.

“I love my family. Every day, I miss them. But I also really like you y/n. You are someone I want to spend all my time and money on just to make you happy. Every time I look at you, I want to take you, no matter where we are. And I feel I owe it to my family to visit the memorial to pay respect and to accept that it is okay for me to move on,”

It felt like with his words he had lifted an enormous weight off of your shoulders. Tears sprung to your eyes and Zemo looked panicked noticing them but you grinned, placing your hand on his shoulder.

“Thank you, Zemo,”

His fingers run along your arms and up to your face, tracing your jawline. His eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips and slowly move forward towards you. Once again he captures your lips with his but this time it was gentle like he was trying to savior you. You grasp the fur parts of his coat and try to pull him closer, you can feel through your kiss him smirking.

“Would you prefer to take this to the back seat?” he rasps and you nod your head quickly. You pull away from the kiss, shifting in your seat so you can clamber onto the long seat at the back of the car. Zemo holds onto your waist as he follows you through the back. He sits down on the seat and pulls you onto him so you were straddling his waist. His hands grip tighter to your hips as you go back to making out with him while you ground on his lap, feeling wetness stain your pants.

You smirked into the kiss as you felt Zemo’s trousers stiffen and a bulge appear as you grinded on him.

“Let go of me Zemo,” you sigh as you pull away from the kiss, hesitantly Zemo lets go of your waist curious to see what you were planning. It was hard positioning yourself with the limited space you two had in the car, but you sat on your knees, pushing his legs apart as you settled between them. You reach up and tug down the zip on his trousers, exposing his boxers. Zemo sits back and watches you as you tug them down, exposing his member.

Already some pre-cum had leaked from it, which you gladly licked up, running your tongue along its side. You traced the vein that stuck out, feeling it pulse against your tongue. Teasing him, you flick your tongue over the tip, hovering your lips just around it but not going further.

Zemo finally moves, impatiently he grasps your hair in his hand and pushes you down onto his member, making you take all of him. He lets out a groan, his eyes fluttering shut as he rolls his head back as he felt the heat of your tongue on his member. You suck your cheeks in to give him more pleasure as he pumps your head up and down so that his member could go in as far as it could.

You grasp his tights to position yourself better. You could feel aching between your legs as you longed for more, but at the moment all you wanted to do was please him. Zemo pushed your head faster, grunting, feeling pleasure swarm over him. He then suddenly pulled you off his member, grabbing your arms he lifted you, getting off the seat and pushing you on so you were lying down on your back.

“Forgive me little one” he purrs as his hands roughly grasp at your trousers and quickly pushes them down, exposing your pants. “I need to feel inside you” He runs his finger up them chuckling feeling the wetness soaking through.

“Do you have a condom?” he asks, looking in your eyes, “We don’t need one” you gasp, the urge to feel him swarming you.

“As you wish,” he says, immediately pushing your pants aside and slipping into you.

You moan feeling him stretch you out but as soon as he was in you he drew back almost completely out of you but snapped his hips back into you. He thrusts with all the strength he has, pushing your body up and down on the seat.

You wrap your hands around his back, your nails digging into his back as your body moves up and down with him. His head settles on your shoulder, where he leaves hickies. Every time he pulls back from kissing and biting you he would whisper things in Sokovian that you couldn’t understand but you were sure were endearing.

His fingers snaked down to find your clit and rubbed it, sending shock waves of pleasure to your brain. You let out a loud moan as you felt the knot in your stomach tightening. As if knowing you were close, Zemo's hips thrust deeper into you, hitting the right spot to make you let loose, your walls clamping down on him as you came. He groans into your neck, feeling your walls flutter around him. His thrusts grew more erratic till you could feel him twitch in you and his seed spill into you.

He pants heavily, finally looking you in the eyes. “I love you little one,” he whispers

You smile, placing a kiss on the side of his face, “I love you too... daddy”

He chuckles and finally gets off you.

The car drive after that was comfortable. Zemo liked to drive with one hand on the wheel while the one hand resting on your thigh, as if reminding you, you belonged to him and only him. Hours later, you finally arrived at the memorial.

Holding your hand, Zemo walks up to the sculpture. He speaks to himself in Sokovian first, getting whatever he needs to say off his chest. After that he turns to you, his eyes capturing yours as they were glazed with tears, “The loss of my country, of my family, broke me y/n, but in some twisted way I am not as upset as I was about it before because it led me to you. I don’t blame you for any of it, I know you had nothing to do with the Sokovian attack just like Sam and James. I’m so glad I could spend these last moments with you.”

You look at him confused, “These last moments?”

You suddenly hear footsteps approaching and you quickly spin around, seeing Bucky appearing behind you. Your head snaps back to Zemo. “Zemo what the hell is going on!?”

He smiles sadly at the floor, then back at you, grabbing your hands. “I’m afraid I must ask something hard of you y/n. Please, can you leave”

The breath left your lungs; it felt as if your entire chest dropped hearing his words.

“... What,”

“I don’t want you to witness what must happen next,”

Your gaze flickers from Bucky who was standing back letting you two have your moment to Zemo who looked desperately at you.

“I’m not leaving you, Zemo,” you state

“Y/n…”

“NO!” you shout

“Y/n I-” Bucky says walking forward, but one death glare from you quickly shuts him up.

“How could you ever ask something of me like that, especially after... after everything that has happened,”

“I should have told you y/n, I’m sorry, but I needed to spend these last moments with you because you are so special to me, I didn’t want to ruin the moment by telling you what was to come,” tears gush from your eyes as you shake your head at him, He steps closer to you, holding your head in his hands, using his thumbs to wipe away your tears.

“And because I love you, I don’t want you to see this. You know there is no other way out of this. It has to happen, and it’s okay, I’m ready. Just like I could with my wife, I know you’ll be able to move on and find someone who will give you everything I can’t and never will because you deserve so much better than me,”

“I love you,” you whisper, the hot tears spilling down your cheeks. Your eyes examine every detail of his face, trying to ingrain everything in your mind.

“I love you little one,”

He pulls you into one last kiss, gentle, but the romantic moment drowned in sadness.

You pull away. Turn around. You don’t look at him. You can’t because you know if you do you won’t be able to leave. You glare at Bucky though you know as well as Zemo it isn’t his fault. You walk a slight distance, just enough so that they are out of sight, and then you collapse on the floor.

Your hands into the ground, pulling at the dirt as you let all your pain out, trying to hold in your sobs. How is it you had fallen for that man so quickly? You loved him; you had risked giving him your heart, and he was pulled so quickly from you. You felt betrayed; he didn’t tell you what he was planning, but you couldn’t bring yourself to hate him for it either.

You don’t know how long you stayed there, but you opened your eyes when you felt a shadow fall over you. Looking up, you saw one member of the Dora Milaje looking down at you.

Your eyes widen in surprise, and then you gasp, connecting the dots. “Zemo'' you whisper, jumping off the ground and running back to where you last saw him. Sure enough, as you arrived you saw him being escorted to the Dora Milaje aircraft.

Hearing your footsteps, Zemo glances over at you. Sadness flickers in his eyes as he stops walking to look at you, but they grasp his shoulder, forcing him to look forward and to keep moving. You watch as they escort him away, till you couldn’t see him anymore.

Bucky walks over to you, looking at the floor guiltily.

“I’ll see him again,” you tell Bucky

“y/n I don’t think-”

“I’ll see him again, Bucky. You can count on that”

Taglist: @sinister-sleep @cable-kenobi @faustlyaccused @chipster-21 @icarusinstatic @yallgotkik @montypythonsholysnail @bunniwritesx @checkurwindow @huntheimpossible @jayxkelsi @avgravy @prestigious-tea @wonderwoman292 @there-goes-thefighter @multiyfandomgirl40 @freyjasamael @ineffablebean @aloyssia @hannahbal-the-fannibal

(I can't tag some of you, I'll keep trying but maybe check your invisibility)

[bonky-n-steeb]

𝑅𝐸𝑀𝐸𝑀𝐵𝐸𝑅

PART ONE

𝙇𝙊𝙆𝙄 𝙭 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍 | 𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙑𝙀 𝙍𝙊𝙂𝙀𝙍𝙎 𝙭 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍

𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬: Bored after staying on Asgard your entire life, you decide to sneak on earth. But what happens when Steve falls irrevocably in love with you, the Queen of Asgard, wife of Loki.

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦: yandere, obsession, death, violence, cursing, manipulation. If you find any of this triggering, please DNI. Also inform me if I left something out.  

ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇᴛᴀ ʀᴇᴀᴅ, ᴀʟʟ ᴍɪsᴛᴀᴋᴇs ᴀʀᴇ ᴍɪɴᴇ

As you know my previous account got deleted and therefore I have to post this again... Hope you guys like it!

SERIES MASTERLIST || MASTERLIST

You sat reading a book in the ethereal gardens of the Palace, with your back pressed against a tree. Loki had brought that book from Midgard. You loved reading, and Loki always got you books from all over the nine realms. That’s how you had bonded in the very beginning.

As you read the book, you had a feeling you already knew what was going to happen, as if you had already read it. So, you closed it and stared at the grand garden before you. Filled with plethora of flowers, the sweet smell diffusing in the air, the palette of colors pleasing the eye.

“Do you need something?” Your maid asked. You shook your head, “I don’t, and even if I needed something I would take it myself.” You gave her a smile at that.

You were the daughter of a common farmer; you were independent since your birth. You had a habit of doing everything by yourself and even despite it being years since marrying Loki, you still couldn’t quite get adjusted to maids. They weren’t servants for you, they were your friends. Your humility and intelligent was something Loki had fallen head over heels for.

The entire Asgard was happy and wonderfully surprised when Loki had announced that he would be marrying you. A common girl with barely any powers was marrying the God of Mischief and the king of Asgard; that had generated quite the rumors, some even thought it was one of his pranks. Even you were worried, but Loki had chased all your worries away.

Despite Thor being the elder brother, Loki had been crowned as the king. Though Thor was powerful and had immense strength, he neither wished to be the king, nor did he have the time to be one. He was rather busy with Midgard and thus Loki had taken the mantle.

When it came to you, even despite being the God of Lies, Loki never lied. He was the best husband you could ask for. Taking your opinions in consideration, asking for your help, cherishing you, loving you more than anybody else. He didn’t rule Asgard alone, no, he ruled Asgard alongside you.

You had changed him; from the selfish Loki whose heart was filled with vengeance, you had made him into a noble and beloved king. But still he never stopped pulling pranks on you, and you took it just as lightly. He was still very mischievous at his heart and you had accepted him with all he brought along.

There was just one thing he didn’t allow: you visiting Earth. And that was only because he was worried for you. The people of Midgard had not taken his attack lightly, and they were still very much furious. Though they were now on good terms, he didn’t want anything to happen to you. You were his everything.

And visiting Earth at least once was one of the only things you wanted. Literally everyone had been to Midgard except you. Even Loki and definitely Thor frequented Midgard, but not you. Once a month you both used to come to that topic and he would brush you off, promising you to take somewhere else. And that maybe fueled your need to go to Midgard even more.

“What are you thinking about, my love?” When you heard his sweet yet authoritative voice, you smiled softly. Lost in thoughts you hadn’t even noticed he was sitting beside you. You inhaled deeply, “I was thinking about the forbidden fruit. I was thinking what would go wrong if I went to Midgard. Just once Loki, just once. That’s the only thing I ask of. I’ve heard the Earth is circular, unlike Asgard!” You asked giving him your best puppy dog eyes.

“Now my beloved, how many times, huh? How many times do I have to list the reasons why you shouldn’t visit Midgard. I won't be able to live if something happens to you. I will go insane, there won’t be a point in living.” He gently took your chin between his fingers and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek.  

“I know Loki, I love you too. But aren’t your relations with Earth better now? And Thor goes there all the time and so do you! And I have powers Loki!” You had the powers of making anyone reveal the truth. You were a rarity; a commoner with powers. Your ability to extract truth was really an ace at your side while ruling Asgard.

“We don’t know if someone is holding any grudge. I can’t risk it. Ask me anything, I will search the entire universe for it and bring it upon your feet. Just not Earth. Now I don’t want to ruin such a perfect day by arguing with you.” Before you could speak further, he shut you with a kiss.

As you both laid in each other embrace, you got lost in the abyss of his eyes. “Oh Loki, do you know how much I love you?” With eyes full of mischief, “Well you do know a certain way to show your love, my beloved wife.” He quipped.

~~~

Today Thor was leaving for Midgard. And at the same time, you had made your plans to sneak. You had started wondering if Loki had a mistress there, well what else could be his reason for not permitting you to visit Earth.

One part of the plan was already in action. You had shared your concerns with Heimdall. He had been awfully quiet but when you had pleaded and asked of it as a favor for his Queen, he had agreed. On the condition that you would return within 3 days, or else he would pull you back to Asgard. You had happily agreed.

The plan was simple, while he would transport Thor, you would go too, you just had to stand close enough to Thor. All excited, you got ready in the best of your clothes. You knew they didn’t dress like this on Midgard, but you had an impression to make as the Queen of Asgard.

The dark green silk robe complimented your emerald wedding ring; you wore button earrings and connected them to your hair clip with chains. You let your hair down but not without braiding few locks of hair; your right index and ring fingers were adorned with your best rings. You wanted to wear your crown, but decided it would be too much for Midgardians; after all you were going there for vacation, you had no plans of ruling earth.

Not many were there to say goodbye to Thor, the Prince travelled very frequently. You were glad that today neither Loki nor the warriors were there. “Goodbye Thor, have a safe journey!” You said as you stood a little too close to him. It was your signal for Heimdall to transport you to Midgard. “Thank you, sister...” before Thor could complete his sentence, you were both sucked into the wormhole.

~~~

It was a.... cool experience to say at least. To be honest, you had no idea. You had kept your eyes closed through half of the journey, and you had probably screamed your throat dry. You did travel through the Bifrost at times but Loki always held you tight. Today though you were spinning all by yourself in the rainbow tunnel. Thank the Norns, it was over faster that you expected.

As Thor landed gracefully in the Avengers compound, you landed straight on your ass and skidded halfway across, bruising you elbow and knuckles.

Thor’s voice boomed aloud, as you tried to get up rubbing your aching ass, “Oh dear Sister! Are you alright?” He said as he helped you get up, “Well, Heimdall didn’t tell me how to land.” You tried to lighten the mood.

“There must have been some mistake. Don’t worry I’ll call Heimdall to send you back.” He said softly while rubbing your elbow as he began praying to Heimdall.

“Uhh, well Thor, that’s not needed. And this... this wasn’t an accident at all. I kind of made a deal with Heimdall and he sent me here...” Thor’s eyes widened with shock and what you thought was anger. You had never ever seen Thor get angry at you, ever. And you were truly scared now.

Thor and you were best of friends. It was as if you two were siblings, not Thor and Loki. As you looked at him now, you knew you had truly screwed up. You knew your decision would anger Loki, but his anger you could handle. You weren’t quite sure about it with respect to Thor.

“You did what? You aren’t supposed to be here! You are going back to Asgard before anyone sees you.” He held you by your elbow and it hurt like hell. “But Thor,...” you tried pleading. Maybe you had not guessed the extent of your family’s anger correctly and you knew you were going to pay for it badly.

“I wasn’t asking you.” He said in an impersonal tone. “You need to understand this is for your own good.” You were tired of listening to the same thing over and over again for so many years. And you finally snapped.

“Tell me the truth Thor! I know that’s not the only reason, why don’t you people want me to come here? Does... does Loki have a mistress here? Huh? I’m so sick of listening to you people give me all kinds of stupid reasons to keep me away from here! You know, if maybe you had not reinforced the fact that I’m not allowed to visit Midgard again and again, then maybe I wouldn’t be so obsessed with coming here.” You couldn’t hold your tears back.

“It’s not what you are thinking, trust me sister, Loki only loves you. But we need to go now and don’t use your powers on me.” You snatched your hand away from him. He was correct in guessing your intentions, you were going to use your powers on him to make him say the truth. But his anger held you back. After all, he was your family, and this visit to earth was just three days long.

“There’s one catch; you can’t take me back. I told you, I’ve made a deal with Heimdall. It includes that He won’t open the Bifrost for me to leave Earth until the evening of the third day!”

~~~

The Avengers were all gathered in the briefing room. Thor was coming back and they needed to discuss an important upcoming mission. As Steve stood telling everyone about the mission, they could hear the tell-tale noise of the rainbow tunnel as they called it.

Tony yawned loudly and stood up from his chair, he was least bit interested in the meeting and just wanted to get out. “Thor is here. We should go meet him.” He said stretching. Steve rolled his eyes, while Nat and Clint got up.

“We can continue, Thor knows where to come.” Steve interjected. “I guess Tony is right on this one.” Wanda said shrugging. Before they could continue, they heard the noise of Thor and a lady arguing. Her voice was vaguely familiar.

“Let’s go!” Tony said excitedly as he hoped to get a little more spice on this dull day. Reluctantly even Steve joined the entire group as they walked outside. Thor was facing them and from his gestures even they knew he was truly angry. The lady had her back to them, her golden magic swirling around her hand, showing her anger and annoyance at Thor. She was dressed in the finest fabric.  

Thor stood still and suddenly stopped fighting as he saw literally all of the Avengers looking at the two of them with keen interest. You saw his stunned and somewhat worried expression, so before he could stop you whipped your head around.

The moment you turned, Steve’s heart stopped in his chest. He couldn’t believe his eyes. This was not true; this couldn’t be true. You were just like in his dreams, if not more beautiful. Your eyes pulled him in like sirens calls. Your voice a sweet balm on his heartache. You looked like a goddess, and he was sure you were one. But, how could you possibly be here? So very real, standing in front of him in all your grace, just as if to taunt him.

You tilted your head in confusion, all of them, literally all of them were staring at you as if they had seen a dead person walk out of the grave. “Uh, well, you must be the Avengers I’ve heard so much about! It was rude of us to fight out here, and I apologize for the commotion. Let me introduce myself, I’m Y/N, The Queen of Asgard and the wife of the beloved King Loki.”

As you said the words, all of the Avengers’ eyes widened with confusion, as fear and anger gripped their hearts.

[dreamsmp-au-ideas]

wooohooo MCU gremlins drabble

Thor and Bruce examined the burn patters swirling on the remains of a wall, as Tony and Steve chatted to themselves.

“It’s been a month since these so-called Four Warriors were summoned, and we still haven’t found them. And now we know they have energy-based weapons.”

“But don’t you think that’s strange? These Warriors have been in New York for a month, and this is the first we’ve seen of any sort of attack.”

“Ahem.” Thor stood up. “I’m afraid that you are incorrect, Man of Iron.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

Bruce stepped in, data pad in hand, which he passed to Tony. “The burn patterns here are too sporadic to be man-made. They look like natural lightning- or the kind of stuff Thor can summon. If I didn’t know this came from the middle of the city, I’d say the wall was just struck in a storm.”

Tony hummed. “So, what are you saying? Instead of the Warriors running around my city with weapons, they’re running around with superpowers? That’s worse!”

“Tony, you have to calm down.”

The Thunder God shook his head. “Actually, I have seen this kind of lightning before. It was made by a child of the stars- your people do not have a name for their race.”

Steve blinked. “An alien?”

“Yes, but one forged in the heart of a star. That is not the concerning thing about these markings, however.”

“What is it?”

“They are powerful, but wildly inaccurate. Whoever shot these blasts was not trained to use them effectively.”

“Meaning?”

“They are either a non-combatant... or a juvenile. I would tend towards the latter, as a fully grown star child would have more power in their blasts.”

Tony’s eyes widened. “It’s a kid? You’re sure?” He stopped. “Fuck.”

“Language.”

“Shut it, Rodgers. I just remembered something.” He tapped the data pad. “When we fought that weirdo with the staff, we saw a bunch of teenagers.”

Steve made a noise of realisation, and his heart sank. “Four teenagers. I thought they’d been caught up in the blast, so I made sure they got out safely. I only saw two of their faces- but they were definitely just freaked-out kids in over their heads.”

Bruce took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “Are you saying he summoned teenagers to do his dirty work? Are you saying the dangerous Warriors SHIELD has been tracking are kids?”

“Most likely stranded kids, if they’re still in the city.”

“Fuck.”

Steve didn’t admonish him this time.

——————————————————————————

A good thing about a city that’s constantly under attack is that nobody looks at a beat-up teenager twice, except with pity. Tommy knew that from back in L’Manberg, and it still rang true in... wherever the fuck they were. New York? He kicked a rock. “Fuckin’ stupid name. I would have come up with a much cooler one.”

Purpled scoffed, but there was no malice in it. “Uh huh.” The Starborne kept an eye on the entrance to the alley, fingers flexing around a hidden knife. He wouldn’t be caught unawares again. “You’d have named it L’Yorkberg or something.”

“Like I said, a much cooler name.” Tommy shot his friend a grin, and the wall behind them promptly disappeared. A tall figure with a hood over his face beckoned them through, the wall clicking seamlessly back into place behind them.

Finally, safety. The house they’d found was abandoned, and if anyone had come across it they’d be... confused. Random chunks of soil, sand and marble in perfect cubes were scattered around the room, and every surface was covered with random bits and pieces of machinery.

Purpled swept some scrap metal off of a cube of granite, and emptied out the bag of food he’d snagged on top of it. “I got enough to last us the week. I don’t think they saw me, but we should go to a different store next time to be safe.” Tommy passed the hooded figure a handful of first-aid kits. “Did Tubbo get that fridge working?”

The hooded figure- Ranboo- nodded. “Yeah, put the meat and stuff in it so it doesn’t go bad.” That had been a shock- food in this world spoiling over time. They couldn’t get ill from it, just Hunger, but it was still unpleasant to eat. The worst part of it was that they couldn’t just stock up on bread and wait for someone to find them, they had to constantly go out to get food. At least the first-aid kits were just a precaution.

The ram hybrid in question leaned into the room. “Hey, guys! Did you run into any trouble?” Tommy shook his head emphatically, while Purpled looked sheepish. “No...”

Tubbo put his hands on his hips. “What happened?”

Purpled coughed, embarrassed. “We kind of got mugged. They wanted this green paper stuff we found.” Tommy puffed out his chest proudly, wings flicking mischievously under his hoodie. “Purpled kicked the shit out of them, you should have seen him! Zapped them right through a wall.”

The ram’s eyes lit up, radiation symbols dancing in his pupils. “Sick!”

Ranboo, on the other hand, looked slightly panicked. “Uhm, aren’t we trying to keep a low profile?”

Tommy shrugged. “Eh, we had our hoods up, plus there’s a fuckin’ million people in this city. It’ll be fine.”

Tubbo clapped his hands together twice, banishing the nervous air that had grown in the room. “Right. Ranboo, you’re still banned from the kitchen after the Spaghetti Incident, so Tommy, it’s your turn to cook.”

——————————————————————————

Tony Stark was not good at waiting. It took approximately seven seconds for JARVIS to illegally download the CCTV footage of the attack, and about sixty for everyone watching to see what had really happened. It was still too long for him.

Two teenagers were walking down an alleyway, one in a red hoodie and one in a purple one. They were talking together and laughing about something.

“Red has blond hair, blue eyes, about 6’3. I think he’s got a dyed white streak in his hair.” He’d roped Natasha in for this, her spy training making her excellent at spotting details others would miss. “Purple has lighter blond hair and... purple eyes? Huh. They could be blue too, just a trick of the light. He’s shorter than Red, maybe 5’11?”

One of the teenagers swung his bag at the other with a grin on his face. The other yelled at him. Two older men appeared at the other end of the alley.

The spy’s eyes narrowed. “Two adults, 20-25, Caucasian, wearing beanies and dark clothing. They’re armed, one of them is nervous but the other has done this before.”

One of the men pulled a gun, and the other cracked his knuckles. The teenagers scowled.

“Huh. Interesting. Red and Purple aren’t afraid of them. They look... annoyed, but not scared.”

The man with the gun lunged forward, and was promptly knocked through a wall with a blast of electricity. The other man froze, and the teenager in red hit him over the head with a bag, before bursting into nervous laughter.

Nat’s eyes widened. “Holy shit. Okay, now I get why you wanted me to see this.” She looked at Tony. “Mutants? Have you contacted Xavier yet?”

Tony shook his head. “Not just mutants. Thor thinks Purple is an alien. Called him ‘a child of the stars’ or something.”

Shadows appeared at the end of the alleyway. The teenager in red swore, the words clearly visible despite the silent recording. He tore off his hoodie to reveal a large pair of wings, and grabbed his purple-clad friend. The pair flew out of sight of the camera.

“Red might be a mutant, we don’t know. Neither of them are showing up on any databases. No birth records, schooling, missing persons reports, anything.”

Nat sat back in her chair. “Right. You got any idea where they went after this?”

He shook his head. “Not one. We can assume Red landed in a remote area and hid his wings, before meeting up with the other two.”

She rose an eyebrow. “Other two?”

“There were four teenagers at that battle, remember? Just after four great Warriors were supposedly summoned.”

Recognition flashed in the spy’s eyes. “You think they’re the Warriors? They’re a little young.”

“Oh, I’m well aware. Steve was pissed when we put two and two together and Bruce nearly Hulked out. Kids don’t belong on a battlefield.”

“What do we do now?”

“Look for patterns. Where we see them, and when. JARVIS is looking through all public cameras right now, and he’s already found Red and Purple stealing food from a nearby store a couple of times.”

“No sign of the other two?”

“Not yet. Although, they could just be better at hiding. Hell, one of ‘em could have invisibility powers or something. Hard to tell.”

She shook her head. “I doubt it.”

Tony recognised that calculating look in her eyes. “You’ve figured something out. Alright. What’ve you got for me?”

She steepled her fingers together. “Put it this way. You’re a kid, and let’s for argument’s sake say you’ve been summoned to an unknown city, possibly even an unknown planet. You’re lost, and you’re evidently not able to get money or food, if you’re stealing from stores regularly.”

“Right.”

“If one of you has invisibility, why risk the visible ones getting caught? Why not just send them instead? No, my money is on Red and Purple being the most inconspicuous.”

He cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

“They’re the easiest to blend in- the most baseline human-looking. And considering one’s an alien and one has wings, that’s saying a lot. The other two might not be able to go out in public without causing a scene.”

“Huh. I hadn’t thought about it that way. But it makes sense.”

She shrugged. “Or the other two could be injured. Red was holding a bag full of medical supplies.”

“Shit. We need to find them, and fast.”

!!!!!

:D